#quantum intro

Instead of writing the longest intro possible I’m just gonna ignore Harry’s background BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW IT ALREADY !!!!!!!!!! thx

depression tw, death tw, war tw, PTSD tw

AFTER HOGWARTS.

So, the war is over ( a war that Harry has grown up fighting, mind you, the boy hasn’t had time for much else, has he now ? ) and people look to a teenager to continue being what he has been for the last seventeen years ( but what they’ve also rejected, when it suits the current tide of war ). But Harry James Potter doesn’t care much for being a beacon of hope ( of clarity, of light ), anymore. He’s not their symbol ( but at the same time, he knows that he will always be just that ).

The aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts itself is a blur, for him. Tugged in every direction. Not so much a man, more of an object, something that his entire world feels entitled to. But he’s exhausted ( has he been able to breath properly for the last year, at all ? ). It’s too much for any seventeen year old, yet people expect him ( the boy who lived, never just Harry ), to carry it with gratitude, with a smile, with bravery. 

The days after the final battle, he feels very little, barely anything at all. All he really does is sleep.

The mark on his back is gone ( the one on his face isn’t ), but it doesn’t feel like it. Sure, he doesn’t have to fear for his life anymore, but the crowds are relentless. Suffocating him. He’s grieving, and all the masses ( the strangers, people who think that they know him because he’s famous ) want to do is hug him, shake his hand, clap him on the back. He tries to be understanding ( they’re grieving too, logically, he KNOWS that ). But by now, Harry is growing a little bit tired of being everyone’s emotional-support-boy-who-lived.

Anyways, a few weeks after the war ends, Harry falls off the map. Disappears from the grid. Could not be found, through any means. Some of his friends say that he rented a muggle car and drove through Europe. Others say that he just slept, refused to leave his house, so exhausted and depressed that he couldn’t be reached. Others are firm in their belief that he was busy hunting down the last of the Death Eaters. No one truly knows what Harry did, during those months. Only those closest to him have a vague idea.

He eventually returns, a little bit better. The weight on his shoulders lighter. Back to his former self ( though, he’s not quite sure who that was, this war has tried to consume him since boyhood ). His smile comes easier, it’s less weary. He has that Potter sparkle back in his gaze ( the one that makes his eyes look less like Lily’s, more likes James’, despite what the color might tell you ). He’s not at peace yet, but he will be ( his scar hasn’t hurt in months, that’s a start ).

Harry finds solace in his friends, that much has not changed. It was them he fought for, and it’s them that he continues to live for. The war never changed Harry’s capacity for love.

So, he’s back. People still look to him ( and they think that they know what he will do, ALWAYS always, always ). He can’t escape their eyes, their whispers, how they think that they know him. Most of the time, he hates it. But he’s also the type of guy to poke fun at it, doing his best to not take himself too seriously. Everything’s easier, that way.

Maybe he does it out of habit, or out of duty, but he does what he thinks will make the most people happy and joins the Aurors ( they had been nudging him in their direction ever since Voldemort fell, who wouldn’t want the famous Harry Potter in their ranks against the dark? ).

But Harry is just Harry, and Harry is so tired of being Harry Potter. For the first year after the war, the poor guy could barely go out for a drink without being mobbed, you know? The excitement eventually ebbed out ( thank god ) and became less exhausting, but it was still there, in smaller waves.

ANYWAYS ---- so he’s an auror. He doesn’t hate the work by any means, but he feels as though he has just gone from fighting one war, to fighting another. Which is really the last thing he needs right now? He still suffers from night terrors, about his friends dying, about Voldemort ( not so much Voldemort as other people remember him ----- in his dreams, Harry sees the Voldemort in limbo, at King’s Cross ). Eventually, those will go away too. Partly.

The Wizarding Wars have taken a lot of things away from Harry, and for that he is silently angry, a little bit, all the time. The war he fought may have ended —— but it’s still taking things from him. His agency, for one thing. Did he want to become an auror? Well, it would have been ONE possible path, but perhaps not the one he would have chosen first. Ever since the war, everyone just keep looking to him, to have him continue being the symbol of hope and greatness that he was during the last year of the war. But Harry is just Harry, you know?  Not much has changed since that evening when Hagrid came to get him, all those years ago. But people just assume to know what The Chosen One will do next, and Harry’s just sort of…. along for the ride, for the most part, when it comes to that and his public image. Right now, he is just doing what he thinks is right, for the greater good. He does what he thinks is expected of him, what he thinks will make the most people happy. He’s not thinking of himself, at least not yet. I don’t think Harry even realizes that he has grown resentful, a little bit bitter, angry. 

With that said, I really like the idea of post-war Harry as the biggest troll possible when it comes to the media. All those ridiculous rumors you read in the papers about The Boy Who Lived are often started by Harry himself !!!! It’s his way of gaining some of that agency back but also he just thinks it’s a fucking blast. 

Constant bad jokes about how 'he didn’t die for this’ and ‘did we really defeat Voldemort so that you could’.... are PRIME coping mechanisms too!!!! 

Never actually finished school but totally got away with it because he’s Harry Potter. Finally some perks, am I right.....

Overall, Harry IS concerned with being a good role model for the younger kiddos, but that year after the war? Harry was in a dark place, not fit for returning to school. Not fit for returning to anything, really.

Harry is a really good teacher and we ALL know this, so why isn’t this man teaching? It would be much better for his mental health too. Damn it.

With that said ----- I think this version of Harry will either continue down the auror route, eventually become head auror, but devote his life more to teaching the new aurors and reshape the auror department. BUT I have also always adored the idea of Harry returning to Hogwarts as a professor, taking up the position as the Defense against Dark Arts professor. We love full circles in this house !!!! I also think that would be really good for Harry, to be surrounded by kids ( who wouldn’t have really lived through the war, the boy who lived would just be a myth to them, it would be less dramatic, they’d soon forget that Harry has ever been anything other than their professor ).

Never really replaced Hedwig. These days, Harry uses various messenger birds and owls, mostly borrowing those of his friends. He did adopt a dog, though. 

I don’t think Harry will be fully at peace until more time has run its course. He has been through so much trauma, way more than any man ( much less a boy ) should ever have to experience. The scars may fade ( no, not THAT one ), but they will never quite heal, not for him. BUT he will be at peace, eventually.

TLDR: Harry is an auror, right now. He hasn’t washed off his past, but he has come to terms with it, in a way. 

PERSONALITY & OTHER FUN STUFF.

Harry Potter is compassionate, selfless, kind. Good at seeing the good. But also petty, impulsive, seething, moody. Bad at letting things go.

So incredibly brave, but shouldn’t have had to be? An eleven year old should not under any circumstances be led into the lion’s den and that’s that on that.

Has a hero complex, but it’s one that was forced upon him ( do not get me started on Albus Dumbledore, it will take up the rest of the intro ). Harry was LITERALLY just Harry, until suddenly, he wasn’t. 

The sheer dumb bitch energy of this man sometimes....... Thank god for Ron and Hermione is all I’m gonna say.......

Masks a lot of his trauma and pain with bad jokes, sarcasm and a seemingly carefree attitude. Tries his best to play down a lot of things ( his pain, his fame, his trauma, what he did during the war ). But he has a really serious streak too.

With that said, Harry does struggle with PTSD and survivor’s guilt. 

A total smart ass ( there’s no need to call me sir, professor? ). Harry has a sharp tongue aND is often much sassier than he should be, especially when challenged / when he sees something as unjust / when there’s someone that he just doesn’t like. But that sharpness can seep into his everyday life too.

Like I mentioned earlier, Harry is a total troll and will leak the most outrageous rumors that have 0% truth to them to the press. It’s all in good fun. Most of the time.

Honestly that thing Dan Radcliffe did when he wore the same shirt everyday for a month so that the pictures of him would all be un-usable is peak Harry behavior.

Harry would ultimately LIKE to forgive the remaining Death Eaters, the ones who has repented ( eg. The Malfoys ), but he is having a hard time with it. He is prone to spite and pettiness, and forgiveness ultimately doesn’t run easy in his veins. But the attempt IS there, and he doesn’t want to live with a sliver of bitterness in his heart, you feel?

The war hasn’t so much hardened him though, as it has softened him. Sure, it has made him weary, careful, closed off. But it has also made him kinder, more empathetic, more understanding, stronger in his sense of self.

Isn’t as rich as he used to be. Used a large chunk of his fortune after the war to help victims of the war to get back onto their feet. Anonymously of course. Harry has no desire to make headlines, ever again.

Refuses interviews. Most of the time. Only The Quibbler will get an ounce of truth out of Harry.

TIME CLASH.

Harry has always had a family ( a found family, his friends, family doesn’t end in blood ), but suddenly everything has been amplified, he has his parents back, his godfather, their friends. But they’re all his age, they don’t recognize him ( but he barely recognize them, either ---- if it hadn’t been for staring himself blind at their photographs, he wouldn’t know them ). It’s basically like The Erised Mirror Extreme Version, for Harry.

But there are also The Death Eaters ------- and the fear of having to go back, be the figurehead of yet another war that he has to sacrifice EVERYTHING for. Frankly, Harry has had quite enough. He doesn’t want to be their Atlas, anymore. But at the same time, his parents are back. And he doesn’t want to lose them again. AND he knows that they’d fight this war for him. Which makes him want to fight this war for them. Can you see where I’m going for this? It’s a really tumultuous time for Harry, he’s confused and just a little bit lost.

AND then there are the KIDS !!!!!! HIS KIDS !!!!!!!!! It’s a total mind fuck, Harry doesn’t feel ready to be a father, nor does he feel that the world is ready for him to have children. But his children are all grown up and from the future. He wants to protect their future, their peace. 

HEADCANON ONE:

Character Name: Victoire Apolline Delacour-Weasley

VICTOIRE: Seventeen years of hearing stories about those who died on her ‘birthday’ before her. Over a decade of not celebrating it when she realized what it meant to others. Of course, she understands that this is the burden she carries – while her cousins bear namesakes of those who had fallen before them, she is the painful reminder of the day they lost people – so they could win freedom. She is the h e l l f i r e that is left after a victory, scorching technicolor brutal memories into the minds of those who were left behind. Still, she is a Victory none the less, and her family adopted her the day of a horrible day when she was a baby. They chose her instead of the pain, they named her after the good instead of seeing the bad.   APOLLINE: The french derivative of the name Apollonia which comes from the Greek god, Apollo. Apollo, the god of the sun, prophecy, music, beauty, healing, poetry, plague and so much more. It could be said that Victoire is her own brand of beautiful – of course the Veela genes help ( or do they? ) but if there’s anything she’s gotten from this namesake it’s the love of music. She’s sure that if she wasn’t going to work with dragons when she was older it would be with music – something she practically speaks as a language. The name might sound too flowery or too soft for Victoire – but her grandmother from which she was given this name was still a Veela. She still had the siren song that was deadly to almost associated with her name. Still, just because Victoire is comparable to a constantly raging storm – she has times where parts of her mother and grandmother comes out.   DELACOUR: While she embraces the Weasley, Victoire also embraces her mother’s French heritage. If there’s anything of her mother, of this side of the family that comes out – it’s when she speaks French. She refuses to call her mother anything but maman, and will quickly switch to French around her during Weasley-Potter-Lupin gatherings at the burrow to make her feel even a little more comfortable. For Victoire, the Delacour name embodies softness and embodies femininity that she’s not always connected to. It reminds her that she’s not been alone in being discriminated against or objectified, that others understand what it’s like to be in her place to some extent. It’s then that she’s able to embrace the girl, that she’s able to feel like one and not always so at war with her body and herself. WEASLEY: If the other parts of her name didn’t already come with enough precedence – perhaps the name ‘Weasley’ was the icing on the cake. She couldn’t be prouder to be a Weasley, no matter how much fussing her grandmother does or how everyone is in everyone’s business – Victoire knows she is lucky. Vic is well aware of how privileged she is & how her infamous family of blood traitors are lucky to have the life they do. Even though she looked different from some of her family, so did so many of her other extended family members. She took comfort in the fact that Weasley-Potters were a mixed bunch, in personality, in races, in ideals, and her being different was celebrated. There may have been a thirst to know her heritage the older she got, one that would later be quenched, but her real family were the Weasley’s. They chose her, they were better than her blood family ever was, not that she could remember them.

Pronouns & Gender:   She/Her. Victoire identifies as Genderqueer.

HEADCANON TWO:

gender dysphoria tw

C h a n g i n g. From the minute Victoire was born, she was always fidgeting, always moving and her first display of magic was at 4 years old, when she tried to change her hair blue like Teddy’s. Instead, it changed her beautiful crop of dark brown into a dirty blonde. Often, she’d find herself envying Teddy’s abilities to change, feeling uncomfortable in her skin and angry that it wasn’t as easy for her. As she grew older, she came to understand  what her body was, what it would be and that she’d never be able to change herself like Teddy or change herself at all. Any change that she’d make would be permanent and she found herself not wanting that in the slightest. Not wanting to limit herself because while Victoire loved her feminine side – there was something she felt growing in her soul that was just … something else. It didn’t have a label but it became her, it was her, and it was confusing but it was who she was. Victoire did research and after a while the closest thing she could find to what she felt her gender was the term: genderqueer. Of course, after she realized this she told her parents, getting nothing but support from them. A reason they’ve let Victoire dye her hair so much and wear clothes that some parents would have heart attacks at, is so she feels like she has an option to be who she is. Even though they know that their child will be who she is with or without their permission, they figure helping her along the way in a world where there are many people who are against what her gender is & think it’s unnatural. They are Vic’s parents after all and after a war where they lost family and friends who gave their lives so their children could have freedom  – it seems trivial to ever fuss over something like gender. At twenty seven, Vic is more comfortable in herself but still struggles. She keeps it to herself instead of talking about her own dysphoria because it seems trivial compared the war going on around her, compared to so much else.

HEADCANON THREE:

About: ( SELF HARM MENTION, VIOLENCE MENTION, MISOGYNY MENTION )

Storm with skin. The performer. { Secret Strategist }. Masochistic with sadistic tendencies because she is just so filled with A N G E R ( being sexualized at a young age, her ass pinched on her first Hogsmeade trip, and so so much more that she doesn’t have a language to explain it in — only violent actions ). N o t that she’d let you know.  Warrior, no,VALKYRIE more of a DRAGON than a girl ( if she ever was a g i r l in the first place ), fiercely protective of the people she loves — and if you dare mess with her family, friends, or any of the sort, you better run for oblivion.  V I C T O R Y in her veins that she will hold onto until her dying breath.

Victoire Weasley is more than just a simple human being, she’s the true embodiment of what it means to be a storm with skin. Enigmatic even.

Victoire is quite sure of who she is, what she wants in life & what she will get, she’s quite sure of everything that she is —-

                …but in those moments she blacks out in pure rage — she’s not so sure.

She’s h o r r i f i e d. In those moments where she looks for pain like she’s a drug addict and it’s her next fix, she mortified. She can’t remember how it quite started – a punch to the wall there after a fight, a purpose slap in the face, anything that released the rage she had. Victoire didn’t dare release it on the people she loved because she’d never be able to forgive herself for that, but it grew. The feeling grew and soon she had to hurt herself. But she can remember when she knew. When she needed reminders, when she needed blood and big bruises to litter her body. It’s something she’s so ashamed of, that she hasn’t let on to anyone. A reason Victoire craves fights and sometimes throws them is because of this masochistic need to hurt herself – just letting people beat her to unconsciousness. Her anger is so great, so c o n s u m i n g, there’s the small hope if she finds a way to release it somehow – it’ll go away.

              “I will always scare; and more than anyone else — myself.”

It was in House of Serpents that she learned there is grey. There is moral grey, and it’s where she lives. With a heart so big, so W I D E, that even she doesn’t realize it’s part of the reason her anger can consume her. Feeling things for Victoire Weasley is never half arsed, it’s full arsed, and her passion, her ambition, could be the death of her. Her ambition to save the ones she loves, to protect her family. F a m i l y. A word redefined by Victoire fucking Weasley.

But when you meet her, she’ll s m i l e. She’ll laugh, she’ll charm you most likely and she’ll talk about the fact that Freddie Mercury is much more interesting than John Lennon, thank you very much. How Johnny Cash, Jeff Buckley, Arctic Monkeys, HAIM, and Aerosmith should be listened to at least once a day and how if she wanted anyone’s singing voice besides Freddie’s, it would be Hayley Williams, no doubt. She’d take off her shirt to show you the tattoos that run down her back, tell you about the ones that s n a k e down shoulders, arms, legs and how they’re ones dedicated to each and every one of her family members. For her best friends. For past people she loved. With child like w o n d e r m e n t and pure genuine glee, she’ll talk about her dragon, Mercury, and how her and Hagrid planned to try to start a campaign to get real dragons at Hogwarts — or at least they had. Never has she doubted being a Dragonologist and never has she had so much peace.

          HELLO. hey. hi. my name is drew and i am twenty-one years. currently going back to school - taking advertising & marketing courses. canadian - sagittarius & birthday twin to jane! also currently intoxicated and writing an intro, bad choices amirite? love you, thank you for reading this ---- if i remember i’ll list a few wanted connections down below!! 

note: the whole intro contains mentions of death --- there are however no graphic descriptions nor any written gore. 

fabian rhys prewett. older than his brother by two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. doesn’t mean that he acts like it ---- if anything it’s quite the opposite. temper from hell and a wild streak to match. gryffindor through and through though not necessarily in a good way. stubborn and brash, willing to sacrifice himself to the cause without a second thought to the consequences.

[ grief tw ] it’s 1980 and he ---- blinks and wakes up in 2029 and if that isn’t just fucked up. he’s in the future and now there’s no war ---- but his parents are still dead. killed by enemy soldiers. he wants to scream or maybe to cry or just to break something because he can’t escape the loss. the grief twists at his stomach before punching him in the ribs, a breath caught in his throat escaping as a low grunt. they’re gone and he had been gone and now he was alone. 

fabian had always been close with his mother; in the way that only a child reliant on their parent’s guidance could be. she was the one who pulled him out of his anger and into the world, the one who taught him to be more than angry when he thought that might be his only choice. he listened to the stories and the praises with a grin on his face until he grew up into the man that she had always hoped that he would. and then she was gone and he started to forget her lessons, trying to cling to that childish connection. 

in his grief he became a man twisted towards vengeance ----- never turning down the chance to fight, always finding his way to front lines. the world handed him hell on a platter and he handed it right back, convinced as ever that he could change the world through his building anger. every wrong move pushed him closer to the edge ---- one resulting in his demotion at work, another leading to the end of his relationship, all leading him further down the spiral. [ end of grief tw ]

 and then --- SLAM --- he was here able to see how his strategies had played out for him, or rather how they hadn’t gotten a chance to, because he died ---- alongside his brother surrounded by death eaters and missed out on all that life had to offer. the news hit him hard and he had to reexamine all of the things that he had been doing, but with that reminded came the fact that he had technically already died. what happens to dead things that come back?

 he had heard rumors of things that happened to people who avoided death ---- had heard legends of men withering away into nothing because they wanted to survive. and he, albeit accidentally, avoided his death and was now, he figured, living in a world in which himself and his dead body existed. what would happen if he never died? fabian just doesn’t know and so for once, he is being uncharacteristically cautious.

there’s another thing about this timeclash: how is he meant to approach these family members who grew up in a world without him? should he ignore them or approach them or find some sort of hidden messaging system? there had to be a way to figure out what to do but he just can’t put his finger on it ---- oh well, best to take it slow he supposes.

facts:

his birthday is august fourteenth and he is a leo sun with a libra moon and a capricorn ascendant which means that he is: caring & witty & creative while also tending to be anxious & indecisive & obsessive. he tends to be overly optimistic, viewing most situations through rose-colored glasses, all the while expecting people to like him and shedding parts of himself to fit other’s expectations. 

the parts of him that called to gryffindor were bravery, chivalry and a ever present willingness to sacrifice himself ---- but there were moments where he felt that perhaps he would have been more at home in hufflepuff. he too valued kindness and equality and in truth maybe the fabian he wanted to be for his mother would have fit in among the badgers. but who he was without guidance? that was all brash and reckless and with a tendency to get swept away by the storm. 

played quidditch when he was in school and was good but not amazing ---- still occasionally plays pick-up games though the amount he played definitely decreased during the war. 

specific connections: ( all connections are open regardless of gender )

the one that got away ( mauraders era / any alignment / 1 total ): before. in 1980 -- they had broken up a few years previous over the growing divide in their beliefs and fabian’s behavior --- or maybe they didn’t want to be without someone who was constantly risking everything fabian -----   but it was mostly amicable either way; fabian marked it down as another loss and ignored the burning in his chest. now. what’s happened, happened, or maybe not. 

i knew you when ( mauraders era / death eaters & neutrals / 1 total ): they knew each other when everything was different --- there was a war going on and they were on opposite sides. now they’re here and one ( or both ) of them are rethinking their ways, do they know too much for things to ever go differently?

burn slow ( any era / any alignment / 1 total ): it’s easy to understand why they’d be drawn to each other --- similar interests, similar stories, similar tastes --- but it’s harder to see that neither of them are what’s best for the other. they’re slowly tugging each other towards disaster and neither of them see the storm coming.

alive ( golden trio era / order of the phoenix / 1 total ): there’s bound to be a weird moment when you recognize a face from an old picture --- a picture in which everyone is dead even more so. but perhaps it’s strange enough to pull you in. that’s what happened --- the shock of seeing someone that should be dead and a brief encounter. they talk now but there’s still that quiet doubt that fabian is really here.

general connections:  ( all connections are open regardless of gender )

friends ( casual, acquaintances, co-workers, close, family friends )

rivals ( career based // other )

people who call fabian out about self-destructive behaviours

HEADCANONS

Madeleine is one of four children. She has a very strong sense of family and loves her siblings immensely, even if there is a tendency to argue and be competitive. Even more so, she loves her father a great deal, and could almost be considered a “daddy’s girl” given her tendencies to act a perfect angel when he is around.

She was raised around Quidditch. Between a mother who played in school and a father who commentated, it was bound to be a big part of daily life. In school, Madeleine played Chaser, just as her mother had, though bits of her father always came through when watching friends and fellow players on the pitch - a constant stream of comments on their form with the more-than-occasional critique thrown in.

Chocoballs, pepper imps, jelly slugs. Three of Madeleine’s favourite treats, despite her lack of a big sweet tooth. She’s been known to keep a packet of any - or all, depending on the day - in her bag, just in case she or someone she cares for get a particular craving. 

became a commentator as a professional because she didn’t want to hear any comparisons to her mother outside of school

has a complex about it from time to time

highly sarcastic

likely to get in trouble for it one of these days

more than anything wants to enjoy life

backstory ( 1955 - 1973 )

amelia bones grows up happy. with two older brothers & a set of loving parents, there was such room to grow. her parents are openminded and supportive and allow her fire and mind to expand and grow. she grows up valuing family and empathy and acceptance and fairness, and will always fall back on these values.

a bit of background on her parents: 

her father comes from the bones family, which has been a prominent magical family in eurasia for centuries (mostly for their influence in politics & international cooperation, and their progressiveness). after the global wizarding war, her father’s grandfather and his wife migrated to england after he was offered a position at the ministry, which he got offered due to his efforts during the war. word of their (good & wonderful!) reputation then spread in the UK, too, and they soon became a respected pureblood family (not that they cared about blood status, not at all, and i think plenty of purebloods didn’t care much for the bones --- too progressive and idealistic and proactive).

amelia’s father followed in his own father’s footsteps and joined the department of international cooperation, through which he met irmak, a turkish witch who worked for an international ngo advocating for worldwide women’s rights. they started as coworkers, and soon fell for one another and soon marriage followed, and then their three kids

amelia loves her family. they’re her entire world.

she was the last of her siblings to go to hogwarts, which just made her all the more excited, i think. amelia envied her brothers for getting to go before her, though, very much so. either way ---- amelia was a hatstall, stuck between hufflepuff and slytherin, stuck between her deep sense of justice and her cunning ambition. in the end, she was sorted in slytherin, but she would have thrived in either house, really. 

she walked towards that green-and-silver table with such pride in her face and back, proving that she’d fit right in

i think she was sorted in slytherin in the end as her ambition allows her to do more with her sense of justice. it’s the road towards her goals, her goals being reaching justice and righteousness and her ideals.

anxiety / panic attacks / alcohol & smoking / self destructiveness / burn out tw || amelia put immense pressure on herself all through hogwarts, not only wanting the best grades, but also wanting to be a helpful and put together individual. in her fourth year, she burns herself out --- there’s no energy left in her body. she started having more panic attacks, her anxiety growing with the pile of assignments she was unable to finish, and amelia -- for a while -- lost sight of herself, unsure how she was ever able to be so productive, to do so much. 

amelia starts smoking. she starts drinking. she yells at the whomping willow. she finds release in anything that will quiet her brain and she loses control, for a while --- detentions grow, as do her absences in class, and her grades drop. after a few months, she steps to slughorn, telling him that she’s not okay, that she needs help. (i imagine he was a bit startled, not by the news (as there had probably been reports of the change in amelia’s behaviour), but by the way she approached him, so maturely.)

admitting she wasn’t okay was the main step she needed and soon amelia was learning where her weaknesses lied, and how she could cope with stress, and how she should dose her work so she wouldnt end up this way again. and slowly but surely, amelia rebuilt her good grades, and prepared herself for those looming OWLs. end of tws

her last three years at hogwarts are spent studying, hard. amelia also became prefect & eventually head girl ( this is not definitive! just. putting it down in case ), and spent the rest of her time preparing for a career at the ministry --- that was where her ambition lied, after all. especially with the turmoil and unrest growing in the wizarding world, amelia’s sense for justice GREW, and she wanted to do something about it badly: the ministry was a flawed system, that much she knew, but she also knew that there were good people there (her dad, her grandfather, etc.) and that there was always room for change and growth

amelia cares SO MUCH about justice, it’s just something she’s always done. she has a very deep sense of justice herself, is very just in judging and approaching people. she’s also open about this & will call you out on her shit ( i imagine she did a fair amount of this in the slytherin common room ) but in a calm and collected way

ended up graduating with seven NEWTs, all with either E’s or O’s. we stan an overachieving icon. 

post graduation ( 1973 - 1980 )

anxiety tw | amelia started working as an administrative assistant at the wizengamot, interning under a member at the same time, slowly climbing the ranks and preparing for a successful career. it’s stressful, and sometimes anxiety inducing, but amelia sticks to her coping mechanisms that she’s developed over the years (both good and bad) and mostly thrives. end of tw

(parental) death, murder, grief tw | when she’s twenty, her parents are murdered. at that point, amelia had still been living at home, but she’d been at work when it all happened --- returning to a dark mark above the place she grew up in. her parents had been murdered for not meeting the vision of what purebloods were supposed to be, another pair of victims of a cruel war ( and the start of the bones’ downfall :( )

self destructiveness tw | amelia fell back in old patterns for a while, forgetting to take care of herself, raging against a world that wouldn’t listen. she took the time she had gotten off work to grief and drowned herself in distractions and things that only seemed to make things worse, in the long run end of tw

and then she returned to work and was done. done, with feeling like she’d drown in her grief, and so she turned cold. it wasn’t hard -- amelia had always been quite levelheaded, able to look at situations with emotional distance and objectivity, and now she did the same with her life. she joined the order as well, even though she had previously doubted them ( she thought them unorganised, chaotic rebels, and she had to eat her words, partly, after she joined ). amelia grew bitter and secretive and cynical, but she worked harder than she had ever before, wanting to see a better world as soon as possible --- for her brothers and their families, for all the families still whole, for fucking everyone, to be honest.

death of children tw | re: her brothers and their families, she thinks that theyre both stupid for having kids in this time. look at what happens every day! look at what happened to their parents! why would you risk orphaning your children?!

not that she voices those opinions. they’re dark and mean and she swallows them and keeps them locked up. 

of course, she was kind of right. edgar and his kids did die. lmao. when she found out, though, she didn’t think “told you so”, she just hated herself a bit more. end of all tws

right now, amelia is a legal advisor at the wizengamot, assisting with cases, working on arguments and compiling evidence, always bristling at how useless aurors are at paperwork. she hates the ministry, partly, but wants to fix it from within. her dream is to get a seat at the wizengamot, and eventually grow further, too. her ambitions run deep, as does her idealism, and together those will get her far.

she’s also more closed off than she was before. i think that amelia was a lot warmer as a teen, and definitely a lot more spontaneous. now, though, she is focused deeply on the tasks at hand and cynical, scared of loving more people than she already does. there’s more to lose when you have more people you love, and all that stuff --- but still, amelia is kind and approachable, but there’s always a hint of distance and coolness. 

does Not take good care of herself. amelia sleeps too little, drinks too much coffee, does not eat enough fruits & veggies and constantly abandons her needs when there’s other, more important things. and there are always more important things ( especially considering she seeks for them )

death & murder tw | the timestamp kind of sent amelia into a state of despair, for a hot second. learning that her brother and his family were killed in the war chilled her to her bones. learning that she was murdered in the far but near future confused her, and scared her. she took a moment to recenter herself, to take in all this new information, and then got to work. i imagine that amelia just stormed into the ministry/the dmle and started working to fix this, using her future position as an argument to have a proper role in the developments. ( merlin knows that the ministry can use a good set of brains, after all, and she has a more than good set. ) she also stuck with the order, of course.

amelia also took it upon herself to research a LOT about the future fates of people she suspected of death eater activity, to know who to trust and who not to. read a lot of archived newspapers and such over the past month. too many. end of tw

personality & details

career woman. fuck the glass ceiling, she’ll break it with her high heels and kiss the shards with her red lipstick and grin while doing it. amelia is successful and will be even more successful and nothing but death can stop her from reaching her goals

in the end, that’s why she was killed --- bc she was unstoppable. if it wasnt for voldemort, she WOULD HAVE become minister for magic, mark my words

caffeine dependent as fuck

kickboxes to let go off some steam and cropped up Stress. she has been doing it ever since her the summer after her fourth year and has a mean right hook and can break your nose if she wants to, but chooses not to. (would rather fight you with words, anyway.)

a levelheaded, realistic queen. 

workaholic, pls tell her to take a break!!!!

she has a deerhound doggo called jimmy and she loves him SO MUCH. dogs are Everything to amelia. she loves dogs so much. 

“men ain’t shit” -- amelia bones, thrice a day, at least

daughter to a brilliant journalist named marilyne delacroix, dominique was brought up by a woman who loved her so completely that it completely shrouded the fact that she was going to be raised without her father in their one bedroom apartment

given the nature of marilyne’s work, dominique was often left with fleur, dominique’s aunt, and her husband bill whenever marilyne went off on stories

thus, dominique found herself in england with her extended family when the story marilyne had been chasing had caused her death 

as dominique’s godmother, fleur took her in as her own child, to which she didn’t understand initially, but has found herself especialy grateful for fleur and bill 

dominique didn’t know someone could hold so much sadness in them until she’d lost her mother; being the only person in her life, it felt like a part of herself had been torn from her, leaving a gaping hole she felt could never be filled

parts of that whole were sealed over with the love and care fleur and bill gave her, a love that dominique returned ten fold

so much pain was still left, though, that she felt the need to protect herself in whatever way she could

although one can’t say dominique is cold; there’s a fire there, behind her eyes, she can be seen as detached; although she loves her family, her entire family, she let few inside. she was friendly enough, and actually enjoyed socializing and parties and having fun, but she didn’t do romance, nor did she let people come into her life easily. 

she doesn’t do romance, but she does do fun, which means she’s slept with ... a lot of people [WANTED CONNECTION]

oFfiCiAL hEaDcAnOnS:

Rabastan is adopted. His mother struggled with infertility throughout the years, due to the extensive inbreeding in the Lestrange Family tree. Although his parents did manage to have a son, an heir, Mrs. Lestrange craved another child. In 1964, when the Lestranges had exhausted all other options, they quietly adopted Rabastan from Korea. It wasn’t so much of an adoption as it was a sale. His birth family was a storied Korean pureblood family had fallen onto hard times. In exchange for a hefty sum, they sold their youngest son to the Lestranges. Rabastan was old enough to know who he was, know his birth name (Yoo Sungmin) and miss his mother. He learned very quickly, under threat of his new father, to not speak of these things.

Rabastan was devastated to be sorted into Hufflepuff. He cried, tears stinging his eyes, nose red as he sulked all through that first welcoming feast. He pushed away any kind housemate who tried to cheer him up. He felt as though he had disappointed his parents, let down the family name they’d so graciously given him. This mood continued for several weeks until Rabastan decided that if he was going to be stuck in Hufflepuff, he’d be the best damn Hufflepuff at the school. Rabastan put countless hours into study and practice. He quickly rose to the top of his class and stayed there all through his seven years at Hogwarts. In truth, his loyalty to his family and hardworking tendencies made him a perfect Hufflepuff, though he’d not admit it.

Rabastan was born on April 23rd, 1960 in Guri, South Korea. His first language was Korean though he has lost his fluency after more than a decade of disuse. He is fluent in both English and French and has working knowledge of old English, ancient Greek, Latin and several other ancient languages. His wand is Cedar wood with a phoenix feather core, 9 1/2″, and rigid. Rabastan is unable to produce a patronus of any kind.

freeform shit:

rab is completely superfluous second child who is visibly not blood related to any of his family and is hella self conscious about it

has major imposter syndrome bc of it tbh

he works rlly hard but never feels like it’s good enough

also highkey resents ppl who don’t work hard and get to the top anyway like he’s struggling it’s not fAIR

petty little b

super nerd, spent most of his time at hogwarts studying

especially languages??? and like how language and magic are so intertwined??????

also like words won’t judge him for not being good enough

polygot king but refuses to learn non-human languages like mermish or gobledegook

like excuse u he’s not conversing with beasts

would do anything for his family and their legacy even tho he’s never felt accepted by them

has devoted his life to their belief system, won’t stray, wants to make them proud

water rat and a taurus it’s not important but i spent a lot of time figuring it out

idk what else to put if you have any other questions hit me uppppp

TW: death, child death, blood, alcoholism (vaguely)

yoho guess what, edgar is a reckless idiot who somehow has gotten even more reckless and yall are gonna have to put up with it! he’s also just as likely as harry to name his next kid albus so there’s that tidbit of info. his favourite colour is lilac. now here’s some worse info:

I.

the child of relevant members of wizarding community AND purebloods, things could have gone much differently for edgar, but that’s a fact he’s taken long to comprehend. the role his loving family, that believed in him every step of the way, played is one of love for edgar, but not something he’d, until rather recently, attribute to the way his story goes - not the way his story ends. their values, their love, their care, his siblings; they were truly so important in the makings of him.

irmak and ender were a strong tree, with branches all around him for protection, softening every blow and fall.  their safety and encouragement nurtured a deep desire within him to do whatever he set his mind to, regardless of the consequences. after all, if he tried hard enough, he’d get all of his wishes. as a child, edgar wasn’t learning how to fly a broomstick as fast as his friends and siblings, and he didn’t have any particular wish to take the heights, but his assumed failure only propelled him to try harder. for hours upon hours, he’d lose balance, fall to the ground and then get back up, knees dripping blood. his father found him at dinnertime, taking rounds around the house, conquering for the sake of conquering alone.

that tenacity never left the boy, determining his future within the gryffindor bravado, his push for better grades, his detentions and self-made heartbreaks, all because the riot in him would not let him stand still. hexes and kicks, edgar quickly became known as one not to anger, a likely future brutal auror, given his yearning for justice even after the smallest of infractions, like a group calling a muggleborn slurs after potions class - because the world was his to conquer, should he chose to, and he had nothing else to choose. 

entitled, they called him. edgar always prefer to see himself as an idealist instead. 

the moral code passed down by his family was instrumental in the shaping of who he became. eddie always knew wrong from right, and that certainty let him see the world as black or white, with no room for the indecisions his classmates exhibited, or the inconsistencies of the ministry, every newspaper headline contradictory with the previous. the world around him seemed to tip toe and edgar knew only how to slam in. 

his ways kept him close with a variety of friends, but especially to the other rowdy ones, unafraid to speak their minds and go just far enough to be thrown in detention once more. his ways also cost him the biggest thing he’d been after all of hogwarts: the prefect badge. 

II.

becoming an auror had a certain allure to it. an outlet for the flaming energy inside him, and for his yearning for justice, being a source of scenarios in which he could play the detective, a role he so enjoyed. training was brutal, however, and every day passed, his desire to live forever beneath a badge kept diming. edgar’s lack for motivation was noticeable, as if the light in his eyes had purely shut off, and his mates encouraged him to pursue other paths.

politics was out of the question, too grey for him. healing bored him to death (and he was never that great at herbology anyway). eddie considered journalism for a while, but the likely future of a dusty desk at the daily prophet, carrying out their at times sensationalist work, made him not want to read a newspaper ever again. but edgar couldn’t be adrift. he’d made damn sure all his life he was pushing himself to be the very best possible, edgar with a plan, edgar ready to make a dent on the world. to accept defeat would have very easily broken him. 

after short stints in ministry offices (from clerk, which lasted all of four days, to secretary, security, forgotten offices who’d hire pretty much anyway with decent grades) he became a hit wizard. his intellect suffered, not through any fault of his coworkers, but due to it being so damn close to auror work, except he couldn't call the shots, not could he investigate, piece together the puzzles like he so loved. in the meantime, he’d sought direction in life elsewhere: that pretty girl from the bar just at the end of his street whose talks of muggle films and news had always kept him for hours, drink in hand, too enthralled to sip. he hated the trickery of politics but he could hear her explaining the iron curtain for hours. anna had stuck around through every change, knowing little of the context of it all. then a little more. and a little more. small breaches of wizard law, small TREASONS. he’d moved in with her, shown her a spell or two. in a few years she was meeting his family, watching his cousins fly in a broom, reading his newspapers with the moving images and scary news of impending conflict. (even marrying the fool, later down the line)

hit wizard work is brutal, and it began to show. despite being an outlet for his inner riot, it put him in vulnerable positions, and anna worried - that simply had to stop. especially when she became pregnant. 

to this day, eddie isn’t certain who dropped his name in the department of mysteries - he suspects his father, or perhaps dumbledore, who’d begun seeing him more often (he did enjoy placing pawns in place, not that edgar would acknowledge such a grey-area) - the young man found a letter inside one of his kitchen cabinets. another later that day inside his pocket. he as being summoned, should he wish to go. an interview followed. for hours, edgar sat - lies, he paced around in excitement - solving puzzles, enigmas, philosophical debates; the stuff he left at hogwarts and at auror training. at last, something that brought that light back, filling him with interest. there were no limits, no bureaucratic doors closing - the questions were secret and so were his answers. the puzzle solver was hired the following day, circling through various sub-departments until he got settled doing research on the subject of death a year before the shift of time. the questions that troubled him the most involved immortality and the concept of a chronological finish line. he laughs at that now. 

the secrecy of his job was always the hardest part. eddie was never one to keep secrets, especially not when excitement ran through him, and he often spilled results and theories that had been found just because he couldn’t contain his excitement in.

sidenote: he’s a very gestural person. speaking for edgar means moving around, big physical gestures, arms flaying, a proper demonstration.

the conscience instilled in him in the past was raw energy when combined with his entitlement.the very same characteristics were what drew dumbledore to him, with a position in mind. edgar couldn’t say no to a side-job as a revolutionaire.  there, along with his work, was a change to leave something of value behind. plus, he had personal skin in the game then. his future wife was a target, he was a traitor, his children heresy. 

eddie had, as well, his experience as a hit wizard, which made him useful for field work. that same bravado and need to fix the world made him devoted with reckless abandon. dumbledore was a figure he worshipped, unable to see the flaws in their own plans. there was no way he could have made himself bigger of a target during the war, especially when it was not nearly as quiet of a fact as it should have been that he was an unspeakable, with access to untold knowledge - especially one his enemies looked for. a traitor who knew too much and was too damn stupid to keep that to himself. edgar was a man with lots to lose living in the shoes of a man with nothing to lose. 

that very year brougth another major event besides new career, the order and his first child: the murder of his parents, in the very hosue he’d grown up in, the very hosue his younger sister still lived in. visibly freaking the mold, perhaps even called traitors, the bones were a proeminent thorn in need of ripping out, and edgar got lost in the confusion of the year. he let it fuel him, of course, but he didn’t allow himself to properly grieve, nor to be present for his siblings who also needed to grieve. from a young age he’d been told to walk away if he was angry, to not mix such a horrible feeling and family, and that’s just what he did. the world was broken and it burned him from inside out so he stepped away and dealt with it (poorly) on his own, a decision that came to haunt him the following year once the dust settled. he’d left them, the one promise edgar couldn’t have broken - they’d needed each other and he’d left. not that he’s apologised as of yet, all these years, but the shame of his decision comes to light at times.

III. (the death tw and child death tw applies very heavily in this whole part)

the future comes with many harsh truths to take in. they won, but not really. the world had barely changed, so what was the point of all the sleepless nights, all the wounds he’d healed, all the missions he’d led? what was the point of standing proud in front of the masked foes? what was the point of burying his friends one by one? what was the point of dying as his children cried upstairs?

those were the news that truly shock him. edgar knew he’d get himself killed eventually, even if he did his best to deny it. but reckless, he didn’t think they’d come for anna, or for his three children. he’d set up protections, just in case, of course - wards around the house and portkeys in specific places meant for emergency escapes - but how could have expected a terrified seven year old to remember where they kept the music box that would take her to grandma’s house? the futility of it all hit him like a wave. 

edgar dug in as soon as he learned, damned be the questions his line of work had taught him to ask. time didn’t matter, not at all. what did was the bloodshed his story told. which friends wouldn’t have made it either. his sister, who’d survive only to have to fight the same war again, with worst odds. himself. his family. a bottle of firewhiskey next to the folders he’d gotten from ministry friends and connections. both vices, drinking and learning the painful details of the truth, were self-destructive tendencies he’d thought he’d long escaped. perhaps that was the bones curse, to always crawl back to whatever wrecked them even more in times of hurt.

every newspaper article, trial transcript and even the crime scene photographs he chased hell and below to get his hands on. it was addictive, to learn exactly how much he could blame himself, how much he could blame the war, and who he should exert vengeance on. by now, he knows how to draw a timeline of the event better than any auror on the case, minute by minute, victim by victim, player by player; as he obsessed over it for the first week and a half, non-stop. 

they’d followed him for days, believing him to be a way to the prophecies they searched, or to answers they might seek. and to take down a traitor. a rebel traitor at that. he’d been too blind to notice. they’d chipped slowly at his wards. they’d broken in one wednesday night, at dinner time, shortly before anna and the children had gotten home. edgar didn’t see them there when he put away his coat, when he saw the bags of takeout on the kitchen counter, when he asked the eldest, dahlia, if she had homework to do. like rats in the walls. 

he’d died downstairs. edgar broke a chair against the wall when he learned. he’d died downstairs, hand reaching up, head rested on the second step. after short but brutal torture, in which he seemed to have revealed more secrets than most whistleblowers, he still died downstairs, his moral sacrifice for nothing - but he was probably desperate, he thought, desperate to reach up, where anna, dahlia, oscar and oliver hid, from where he heard his son yell for him, from where he heard the toddler cry, from where he eventually heard anna scream in horror. even if he’d died upstairs too, he just wanted to be there, the last barrier between the world he’d brought upon his family and them. no matter how much furniture and vases she threw at death eaters, anna came to a wand fight ill prepared, and she was the first to go. the small one in her arms too. oscar followed, holding a shoe - it was the wrong one, the portkey shoe just a meter away. and edgar tried to run, to climb, but he remained downstairs, not nearly as close. dahlia was later, he read, assumingly because she was the hardest to find - underneath a bed. 

three weeks. that’s all he had until then. if the time shift had happened three weeks later, he’d be dead. 

the aftermath was a mess. muggle neighbours heard yelling and called the police while aurors arrived, but not soon enough to stop the confusing murder of a whole household from hitting local news. in 2029, it’s a cold case, has been for decades. but edgar had learned the truth wizardkind knew and he let him fuel him. after darkness, he bounced back with the flaming hope that made him join the order: he could change things. if he tried hard enough, harder than LAST time. if he just worked hard enough, edgar could fix this and forget there’s a grave with his name - but he can’t. ever since it happened, he visits it nearly weekly. it was looking old, nearly forgotten, like the world had moved on without him, without his family, without amelia, without his fallen revolutionary friends. he’s cleaned them up, put some flowers on them. you see, this time he’s actually a man with nothing to lose, nothing he hasn’t lost before. 

no amount of puzzle solving can erase the fact that he should not exist right now - edgar feels very much alive, perhaps more than ever before, now that blinding rage courses through him and now that the past is past and he has nothing to lose by trying a new timeline. but another him, just a few WEEKS older, is bone and dirt beneath a tombstone in his hometown, so now he searches for answers.

edgar is driven by the riot in his head, still very much the son of the revolution, even if his war ended forty-eight years ago.