Running Backwards Chapter Two (2015-03-31)

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I was going to vomit. Okay, no. I wasn’t really going to. But it felt like it. Don’t get me wrong, I was still as happy as ever to be going to Hogwarts. But nerves twisted up inside me, a dark knot in my chest and a sharp tangle in my throat. Hogwarts was magic and magic was amazing; but magic was also dangerous. Magic meant logic didn’t work, meant horrors beyond the laws of physics. Magic meant my two decades of experience in another life wasn’t enough of a safety net, and the fall would be so much worse than not getting perfect marks on a primary school math exam.

But surely it meant something? Maybe… maybe the reason why I remembered my past life is because of magic. Maybe that was my accidental magic–because I don’t remember doing anything else fantastical, but I had been a pretty mellow child. And surely my karma was still decent enough, right?

Second-guessing would get me nowhere. And, at the very least, I had two years before things started getting weird. Moreover, Harry’s first three years had been dangerous for him but for everyone else it had been… well, not safe–considering the troll and the basilisk and the dementors–but survivable. And survivable was good enough for me. As long as I didn’t do anything over wrong, or interfere with canon, I would survive.

It’s these kinds of thoughts that make me nauseated.

My mum was the one to bring me to King’s Cross–it was only fair, since she couldn’t go to the Diagon Alley trip, and my father had to begin preparations for his actual students–and followed after me with a quiet, amused smile. Which quickly slid into shock as I forcefully shoved my luggage cart at what she thought was a normal stone pillar, only for it and me to disappear through to platform 9¾. She composed herself quickly enough, because in the half-minute it took her to join me she was back to her normal calm smile.

The Hogwarts Express really was beautiful–a gleaming red which brought to mind candy apples and Christmas, all childhood nostalgia and warm glows. Families were bustling around saying their goodbyes, some returning students meeting with their friends. There were so many people and so many voices and it was too much. Suddenly, I felt my physical age too keenly–I was an eleven year old leaving home for an extended period of time. My confidence faded and I turned to cling to my mum, face pressed into the soft cotton of her dress.

She threaded her fingers through my hair soothingly. Another woman nearby spotted us and cooed, “First year? Some of them get like that, it’s perfectly normal. Soon enough they’ll be dashing away as quick as they can. My eldest is in her third year already, she’s already gotten on the train. This here is Arthur, it’s his first year too.” The woman gestured to the boy next to her, dark skin lightly flushed with embarrassment. I couldn’t help but match it, since my clinginess was literal and, thus, worse.

“This is Rey. This shyness is a surprise to me, he was practically bouncing off the walls to get here,” My mum responded for me, and immediately my preemptive homesickness was cured. Arthur and I met each other’s eyes and in that moment, powered by shared mortification, we became friends without saying a word to each other.

“Okay, mum! Rey and I are going to go on the train now.” Arthur blurted, beginning to push his cart towards the boarding areas.

“Bye, mum,” I murmured with one last hug before trotting after Arthur, thankful for the escape. When I caught up to him, I couldn’t help but sheepishly introduce myself, “So… I’m Rey Chason. Rey is short for Reyniero. Uh. I was just a little overwhelmed, you know? I’m a muggleborn so it’s my first time seeing everything.”

Arthur snorted good-naturedly, “I’m Arthur Ellis. The platform stops being so exciting when you’re dragged along to drop off your sister. I guess it’s just weird to be boarding the train for once, instead of just watching it leave.”

We helped lift each others’ trunks onto the train, exchanging small talk all the while. He was a halfblood and wanted to know what it was like growing up in the muggle world, and vice versa for me. It was a little difficult since, without knowing what to ask, we were mostly exchanging random tidbits about our lives, but it was nice. Looking for a compartment wasn’t too difficult, though we did avoid the ones that already had groups of older students. We finally happened on one that only had two other kids who were either our age or not much older than us.

The boy was the one to offer us seats when we poked our heads in, even getting up to help us with our trunks, which was awfully nice of him. The girl asked us for our names, a little blunt but not unkind. We answered, repeating the usual light introductions to our fellow passengers.

“And you?” Arthur asked, in turn.

“We’re both first years, though we both grew up in the same village so we already know each other. I’m Stephanie Fawcett,” she said with a sharp grin and a toss of her hair.

The boy’s smile was much softer, but just as bright. With how friendly both of them were, it looked like this would be a pleasant, relaxing trip. That is, until he said, “I’m Cedric Diggory,”

Damn it. So much for not interfering.

~

A/N: I guess I didn’t get to Hogwarts yet. And yes, now OC has a name! Reyniero Chason. Also, Arthur Ellis is based on this random video game character. S. Fawcett is mentioned in the books as also having grown up in Ottery St Catchpole like Cedric. I chose Stephanie because… uh, the theme is royalty. That is, Reyniero means “ruler’s advisor” and Arthur and Cedric are names of historical(/mythical) kings. Stephanie means crown.

Untitled (2015-03-30)

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There was this girl who was amazing–she was smart and talented and determined and flawed, but still amazing. I use the word ‘was’ because she ‘is’ dead now. And it sucks.

I never knew her personally, in fact, I didn’t even know her name until after she died. I didn’t bother to learn her name until after she died.

Delia Nemenzo

This applies to seven other people: the number of people who died during the Belmont Science Expo.

Xavier Gray
Vera Fay Young
Richard Dallan
Trina Davidson
Min-Sol Chung
Brenda Felix
Chester Amon

I didn’t know any of them. Not all of them were presenters, not all of them were students. I’m sorry I can’t do more for them, or for the loved ones they left behind. At least for Delia Nemenzo, I can do one small thing.

I was there at the Belmont Science Expo when the explosion happened. I got out relatively unscathed, considering I was in the blast radius–a broken wrist, a concussion, second-degree burns on my arms. Most of my equipment is still usable–though I did have to get my camera lens replaced, and a new cellphone. My mom cried, she had been worried–she had known I was there for a job, but she hadn’t known what happened to me.

I had been hired to record the Expo and make a short film summarizing the event. It was kind of difficult, since I was only allowed the one camera and, due to security concerns, I was the only one with a camera so I couldn’t just edit together other people’s footage and call it a day. But nothing unusual, I had done it the previous two years. It seemed crass to make one of this year’s Expo; Belmont University agreed. I’m somewhat ashamed to be thankful that they didn’t take back the deposit.

I had been filming the presentations, obviously, since they were the centerpiece of the Expo. Delia Nemenzo was in the midst of hers during the explosion. I recorded her last moments of life. In a less morbid statement, I also recorded student interviews before their presentations. She had been bright and happy and nervous as she answered the scripted questions. I hadn’t cared then. But I do now.

And I know some people who would care even more.

I don’t know if it’s insensitive, or harmful, but I have a DVD for the Nemenzo family and some flowers for the casket.

~

A/N: Uh… I’m not sure where this came from? I kind of had an idea where… this spun into a murder mystery kind of thing, but all told from the POV of random minor characters. Like, the barista in the detective’s favorite coffeeshop noticing a picture in the casefile, or a concerned bus driver remembering seeing certain people during a time when they were supposedly elsewhere carrying something suspicious. Just little people doing little heroics. This particular drabble above is meant to be that the filmmaker recorded some activity/person that actually brings to light that it was a murder not just an accident.

Also, I hope I am not accidentally using someone in real life’s name. If I am please let me know so I can change it.

Running Backwards Chapter One (2015-03-29)

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Unsurprisingly, I was eager to go to Hogwarts–Magic! How could I not? It was only every child’s dream, ever!–but my parents, my mother in particular, were not impressed by my reasoning. Thankfully, they found Professor Flitwick’s arguments convincing enough, and it probably helped that I offered to continue my non-magical schooling via letters and during the summer. Elective home education would be easy enough: my father was a secondary school teacher and, given my memories, I had already established myself as a rather intelligent if indifferent student.

It wasn’t that I doubted Hogwarts, but I was hesitant to put all my eggs in one basket. Considering I was a muggleborn and how much prejudice I would be going up against, there was a possibility that my Hogwarts education would be the only time I’d experience the magical world. After I graduated, I might very well have to come back to the normal world. It was a sobering thought, and yet, motivating. If all I had was seven years of magic, then I was going to make the most of it. And, really? Seven years of magic was more than I had before.

Professor Flitwick’s visit had taken up a large part of the morning, so much so that my parents invited him to have lunch with us. But he reluctantly refused, and thanked them politely, because he still had two more letters to deliver. I tried not to let the disappointment show overly much in my expression, but I must not have done a very good job, because my parents and the professor chuckled.

“We’ll be seeing enough of each other at school,” Flitwick reassured, “Having lunch with a wizard now might seem interesting, but soon enough you’ll be one too.” And with that statement bolstering my mood, he left.

My enthusiasm to go to Hogwarts didn’t wane at all during the remaining months of summer, despite having to already live up to my promise by beginning my home education curriculum. My parents were both happy and relieved at this, I had never been one for passion and to them it might have seemed problematic that their child never got excited by anything. They were supportive. And if their preparations and advice were more fitting to give a young adult going to university, instead of a child going to boarding school, none of us remarked on it.

Soon enough it was September, and with the arrival of autumn came the highly anticipated Diagon Alley trip for school supplies. School supplies. Loving book was one thing, but school supplies? Magic was truly amazing, if it could get me so excited about that.

All the muggleborns of my year were instructed to meet outside the Leaky Cauldron with our parents–it was a little funny that all of adults were unable to see it, while all the kids could–until Professor McGonagall arrived to lead the group into the alley proper. There were maybe fifteen of us, and in the casual introductions and chatter I didn’t recognize anyone’s name. Which made sense, the series had been mostly from Harry’s point of view and he probably didn’t know all the names of the people in his year much less the class two years above him. Regardless of if they were named characters, they were still people, still children about to embark on a magical adventure–just like me. Solidarity was a big factor in making friends.

The day was hectic with McGonagall herding the dazzled students and parents throughout Diagon Alley for all of the required materials, so while I certainly became friendly with my future yearmates I wouldn’t say I befriended them. Some of the other children did just seem to click, but not all, so I didn’t feel too bad about it when my father and I got home. And I was still amazed from the experience of being in the magical world that I didn’t get caught up on such a small matter–I could make friends later, there would be time.

~

A/N: I guess the next “chapter” will be either the Hogwarts Express or the school itself. I’m surprised I’ve written this much, actually.

Running Backwards prequel (2015-03-28)

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I’ll admit, dying as a twenty-four year old in 2015 then waking up as a newborn baby in the year 1978 was rather shocking. On the one hand, I’m Buddhist, so I feel vindicated knowing that samsara is real and my karma was good enough not to have been reborn as a bug and immediately squashed. Or, at least I was raised Buddhist in my first life, which is chronologically after my second life… Which leads to the other hand: I was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to remember your past lives, much less that technically your past life is in the future.

So, no, I suppose the actual reincarnation wasn’t surprising to me; I was just getting caught on those fiddly little details for no reason. Or perhaps I just wanted to distract myself from my grief. Because even though I’m the one who died, I still lost my life–my family, my friends, my history, my identity–I have a valid reason to mourn.

It only took me a little while to get over it–give or take a few years. My new parents always seemed thankful that I was a quiet, solemn toddler. It was a little worrying to them, true, but better than having a shrieking, ill-mannered child like most other parents. But, eventually, I moved on. This life isn’t so bad. And in all honesty, it was pretty fun to be a kid again.

It’s pretty much the same as last time–I guess I wasn’t so good as to be reborn as royalty–if a decade or so earlier than my memories. Sure I kind of missed Pokemon and some of the cartoons from the 90s, but the 80s weren’t so different. Less reliant on video games and television, sure, but I had always been more of a reader than a gamer. Luckily, most of my favorite children’s books had been published before the 90s.

Well, my absolute favorite children’s books wouldn’t be published until the late 90s, but I had other activities to keep me occupied. It was enough that I still held the series dear in my memories; and I suppose I could be patient enough to wait until 1997 for the first book. But perhaps I spoke too soon.

In July of 1989, just a few months after my second eleventh birthday, my mum opened the door to an particularly interesting man bearing an even more particularly interesting letter. The man, shorter than my average eleven-year-old height, introduced himself as Filius Flitwick, Professor of Hogwarts. One of my future teachers. My parents took some convincing–by way of Professor Flitwick charming the coffee table to canter around the room, the tea set levitating around it in a whimsical orbit–but eventually they believed. I didn’t even need that much.

I suppose I wouldn’t have to wait so long for the Harry Potter series if I was already in it.

~

A/N: Prequel for this brainstorm, aka the Hufflepuff OC. Yes, I know Flitwick is Ravenclaw’s Head of House, but I figured multiple staff members help deliver letters to muggleborns and it’s not like they know which House they’ll end up in pre-Sorting. And Flitwick is cool.

If I’m going to be completely honest, the title is a reference to “The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger (original narration by Randall),” and although I was tempted greatly… calling it Honey Badger Don’t Give A Shit would probably give readers the wrong idea.

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https://jacksgreysays.tumblr.com/post/114823347784/audio_player_iframe/jacksgreysays/tumblr_nlwtr61s801u7pteb?audio_file=https%3A%2F%2Fa.tumblr.com%2Ftumblr_nlwtr61s801u7ptebo1.mp3

The Ballad of Lapis Lazuli

[lyrics by andwereallwevegot in this post and some modified from these lyrics in the episode The Message. Just to be clear, andwereallwevegot’s lyrics are bolded, the altered canon lyrics are italicized.]

Her name was Lapis Lazuli
She was trapped in a mirror
a prisoner long forgotten
and it couldn’t be clearer
Her name was Lapis Lazuli
She came from far away
She never really liked it here
She didn’t want to stay

Lapis Lazuli, you fled into the bottom of the sea
Lapis Lazuli, you were so mad, but then you came around to me

Her name was Lapis Lazuli
She gave us quite a scare
One morning when we went outside
the ocean wasn’t there
Her name was Lapis Lazuli
It wasn’t an attack
She took off for the world she knew
and gave the water back

Lapis Lazuli, you flew away to outer space
Lapis Lazuli, we were friends but you still wanted to leave this place

Her name was Lapis Lazuli
She sent us back a call
An urgent warning from the stars
That darkness soon would fall
Her name was Lapis Lazuli
She sounded so alone
The Home that she had found at last
was not the home she’d known

Lapis Lazuli, they thought you were a criminal
Lapis Lazuli, I know your friendship comes through subliminal

Her name was Lapis Lazuli
She wanted to be free
She’d felt so trapped so very long
by us and them and me
Her name was Lapis Lazuli
I wish it wasn’t so
She took her captor in her arms
and dragged them both below

Lapis Lazuli, you chained yourself to the bottom of the sea
Lapis Lazuli, I know you can’t, but I wish you’d come back to me

Her name was Lapis Lazuli
I knew her for a while
I might not see her anymore
[But] I’m glad I saw her smile

~

A/N: Throwing my hat into the ring! I love how many different versions there are (which you can find here). I also tried to incorporate the melody Steven sings in The Message.

Please excuse my pitchy-ness in some parts… and the parts where I forgot how many syllables I had left in each line. Also, I realize I should have made that last note fall not rise since it was the ending. Ooooh well. I hope you enjoy 😀

edit: mp3 can be downloaded here (mediafire)

Growing Strong (Burning Bright) Chapter One (2015-03-27)

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“I have never lied to you,” The man asserts, though he keeps his posture and expression loose and submissive. He is standing in front of a desk; and though his suit and shoes are of very high quality, they are rags in comparison to what the man behind the desk is wearing.

The man behind the desk, the first man’s boss, stays silent.

The employee gives in after the moment stretches taught like a noose around the neck, “I just didn’t tell you everything,” He wills himself not to fidget with his tie.

Again the other man remains silent. Expectant.

“It happened almost two decades ago, and I was told not to say anything… and after I left home, it didn’t matter anymore. So I just never brought it up,” It was a different part of his life and a different world which he had only ever existed on the periphery.

“And yet, here we are,” The boss intones, no hint as to what he wants next from the conversation. In truth, he is not angry, he does not feel betrayed. There is nearly nothing this particular employee of his can do that will cause animosity between them; he has been loyal and hardworking and his skills are nothing to scoff at. But secrets within the firm can be a hindrance at best, dangerous at worst, and the firm is more important than one employee.

“Here we are,” The employee parrots numbly. Now his posture has slumped further, the submission no longer a front.

“Do sit down, Evans,” And as if he were a puppeteer, a casual wave of his hand prompts Evans to obey, “The situation isn’t ideal, but that’s because of those Italians, not you. If anything, you can help the firm salvage this,” At this, the other man regains his composure, mind completely in business mode. “You’re one of the few who can stand up to those monsters, but that’s not enough. Not when it seems every damn family has a full set at their beck and call. We need a new department. One specifically designed to battle them. And if they have monsters…”

Evans looks at his boss, determination gleaming in his eyes, “We’ll use magic,”

~

A/N: Prequel for the HPxKHR idea brainstormed here. I still don’t know how British organized crime works, but since this is in the KHR world of mafia/organized crime, I figure I can take liberties. Basically, instead of the mafia’s “family” mindset, the British organized crime uses more of a “company” framework. So it’s not territories and bloodlines, it’s industries and functions. Different firms have different focuses– drugs, racketeering, gambling, assassinations, etc. – I guess Evans works one that’s more interconnected, though. Or one that’s more international relations.

Externality drabble (2015-03-26)

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When creating her cover identities, it’s easy to build from memories. Those half-remembered dreams of a place that doesn’t exist; of people she’s never met during a time that never happened.

(Don’t build from memory. It’s dangerous.

Does it matter if they’re not real memories?)

Appearances are easy. She (didn’t) spend over a decade looking at their faces, listening to them speak, watching them move. So are personalities. She (doesn’t) know their dispositions inside out, what they fight for and how they do so.

She gets some details muddled– How old were they when they got this scar? Did they always cartwheel into battle, or only during spars? And she is forced to improvise, in order to adapt them to her new world.  but her creations are unmistakably them. No one else but her know the originals, and so there is no one to point out any mistakes.

They all wear black, because it never made any sense to her for ninja not to wear black, but that doesn’t mean they wear all black. Fashion is different in this world, because fighting is different in this world, but she tries to stay true nonetheless. And each of them have pops of color, just a little reference to their heritage and the fires that once burned within.

When she makes them, it rings hollow in her chest. She misses them, but what she builds aren’t really them. Just empty reflections of a past life.

~

A/N: So… I may have missed the deadline because I was creating online dolls of various characters and well, when I realized what time it was I guess my brain was still in that mode. An Externality drabble! It’s so vague though that it really could be anything, I guess. But in less annoyingly vague terms: Tetsuki, a double SI!OC in the Naruto world creates “cover identities” from her past SI!OC life in the KHR world.

Adventures of Jack and Ness (2015-03-25)

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They’re best friends in the way that usually people confuse them for siblings or lovers or even, horrifically, that one time in a Starbucks, both.

“We don’t look that much alike,” Ness mutters, but glares suspiciously at her warped reflection in Jack’s spoon.

“And it’s obvious that you’re far too busy having unresolved sexual tension with Henrietta Stowe. You wouldn’t cheat on me, would you?” Jack pouts, bottom lip jutting out ridiculously.

“Don’t worry darling, I wouldn’t cheat on you with Henrietta Stowe…” She pats his shoulder in mock comfort.

“Aw, thanks.”

“… with Joy Guerrero, though? Yes. I would drop you in a heartbeat.” Ness grins, unashamed.

Jack’s pout grows even more exaggerated, before likewise shifting into a matching grin, “If she ever deems either of us worthy, I would do the same.”

~

A/N: Yes, very short. My apologies. Unrelated to the Cat’s Meow universe…

Growing Strong (Burning Bright), HPxKHR crossover/fusion brainstorm (2015-03-24)

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As previously mentioned in my A Year With The Moon brainstorm, here, I’ve been wanting to do a proper outline on another idea. Namely, the HPxKHR crossover/fusion. I had stated that it would be about, or partially due to, Rowan(/Bromley/Branton) Evans, aka brother to Petunia and Lily Evans, aka uncle to Harry Potter. And a mafioso. And it would feature the Ministry Six plus surprise Hogwarts student as the newest batch of Flame users in organized crime.

The idea was that there was a third Evans sibling, because mystical things ought to happen in threes and it makes the lifestyles of the Evans sisters more interesting if–instead of a dichotomy, it were more of a branching (like the Peverell brothers). Lily is still the only magic user, but that doesn’t preclude Evans brother from using Flames. In fact, it would explain Harry’s “power he knows not” is literally the power is from the Evans side of the family.

Anyway, Evans brother–leaning toward Branton or Rowan, the former sounding more like a “normal” name, but the latter having cool connotations–is older than Lily, definitely. Not sure if I want him to be older or younger than Petunia… though going by the whole birth-order psychology, it would make sense for her to be the middle child. I could throw in twins for the hell of it, but… meh. So the eldest Evans child, instead of escaping Cokeworth by status jumping (like Petunia) or joining a magical society (like Lily), escaped via crime. Eventually going into organized crime… somehow. Obviously I’ll need to do some research on organized in the United Kingdom and figure out how to make it more KHR flavored, though obviously the British Firms are far less flamboyant and showy than the Italian Famiglia.

I don’t think Evans brother is the head of a British firm, but he may be something decently high up. Probably due to the fact that he may be one of the few British criminals to have unlocked his Flame. Regardless, he is tasked with finding more Flame users either to supplement the firm’s standing in the international crime community or because there may be a specific need for a full set of Flame users in reaction to the crazy shit going on in KHR canon.

He’s going to look close to home, since it might just be genetic and perhaps all the weird magic stuff Lily did was actually Flames. But Lily disappeared more than a decade ago, married to some uppity magic ponce, so it’s easier to track down his other sister. Except, lo and behold, Lily’s son also lives with Petunia. That makes things easy. Obviously Petunia isn’t going to let her precious Diddy-kins join a firm, for all that Dudley is the one in an actual gang, but she could care less what happens to her nephew. And if it gets her older brother off her back then so be it. She knows that he’s in organized crime, but he’s impeccably dressed and rich and willing to play it off as legitimate employment in front of her husband. He just needs to borrow their mutual vagrant of a nephew for some manual labor, aka Flame training.

I should mention here that this would probably go down in the summer, between Prisoner of Azkaban and Goblet of Fire. Well… actually. Hm… the main reason I want to do this is because Harry is a representative for a “fourth school” which Evans uncle can use to his benefit to recruit more magic/Flame using kids. But it’s only until he gets to Hogwarts that he realizes that magic and Flames are different. And it parallel’s Tsuna’s situation with Reborn, in that Reborn appears when Tsuna is 13/14.

Anyway, because Flames aren’t magic, Evans uncle has to figure out which kids actually do have Flames. Obviously the (future) Ministry Six have Flames, but I need one more. Probably more students have Flames, but I really just want Evans uncle to focus on a core set (enough to match those Italian Famiglias) because he’s not actually here to make a school he’s here to recruit weapons for his firm. Since he’s got his hooks into Harry due to the family thing, he’s going to build his set around him. Which obviously means that Harry is the Sky. From there I have various headcanons for Flames and for who should be the Seventh (or if some of the Ministry Six should even have Flames… hm…)

Definitely: Hermione – Storm (or Mist), Luna – Mist (or Rain)
Probably: Neville – Sun (or Rain), Ron – Lightning, Ginny – Cloud (or Storm or Sun)
Maybe: Draco, Susan, Hannah, Blaise, Cho, Cedric, Fred, George, Lee (actually, I’d prefer Lee over the twins…)
I don’t necessarily want blood status to equal Flames or not. Some purebloods are probably unfairly gifted with Flames, but since it’s not magic they just don’t use it.

Anyway, it basically shakes out to–at first they’re really pretty shrewd and outright in using each other. A sort of “I need a student and you want to get out of the Dursley’s house. This way we both win.” Then with the addition of more students it’s like, “I need to recruit more people and you apparently need help with this tournament.” And it then develops into, “I’m going to help you kill that sob that killed my sister, that way you don’t have any more obligations and you will join the firm.” Finally, eventually turns into, “The blood wards will work on me too. We’ll live together. And if you happen to have a giant pet dog that can double as an magic adult recruit for my firm then fine.” I’m not saying he revolutionizes organized crime, but his firm definitely gets perks of having a direct line to the magic world. And it gives them an unexpected additional edge against the Famiglia.

If I were to write it… it’d probably only be Fourth year, in depth, and maybe some smattering of later years to show the changes to the war. And an epilogue in which the Vongola Tenth Generation meet the… ugh, I don’t know what to call them. The Phoenix Guard? … the Flame users of the British firms.

Some tidbits/character interactions:

Kingsley Shacklebolt hates Evans uncle’s guts. HATES. It’s fantastic. Because he’s very obviously a criminal but Shacklebolt has no jurisdiction 😀 Tonks, on the other hand, probably outwardly hates him too because Aurors stick together, but inwardly thinks he’s really cool. He’s closer to being a secret agent than she’ll ever be.

Severus Snape doesn’t necessarily hate Evans uncle, but he does feel discomfited. Because it reminds him of being a child in Cokeworth. And while Petunia was overtly jealous/spiteful of Lily and Severus’ magic, Evans uncle was pretty nice in the rare occasions when he was around. He was probably Severus’ first positive male role model (which is hilarious all things considered), and while that faded with Severus’ realization (or at least perceived realization) sometimes the past his hard to shake. It probably doesn’t help that the last time they saw each other, Severus and Lily were still friends (so, like, two decades ago) and Severus wants to cling to that notion.

Sirius and Remus are ambivalent toward him for differing reasons: Sirius doesn’t really mind the crime part, enjoys the “training Harry to be kickass” part, but he’s jealous of the whole “I’m a reliable uncle and can actually follow up on my promises. (The secret is to not make sappy ridiculous ones).” Remus, on the other hand, is bothered by the crime part a little. Especially with how easily (at least it seems so to Remus) he is recruiting everyone including students. He’s fascinated by the Flame training (and maybe even has Flames himself? And thus is an eager student) but reluctant to join the firm  in exchange. While he’s not jealous of the whole “reliable uncle” thing, he doesn’t appreciate his shortcomings being aired in public–he’s poor, he doesn’t fit in either the Muggle or magical world, he couldn’t even meet Harry until he was a teacher, but in Evans uncle is rich (from crime), he seems to be slotting into the magical world easily for a Muggle, in less than a year Evans uncle has already done blah blah blah.

What I’m really unsure about is how Dumbledore feels. I don’t actually want Evans uncle to just storm in there and fix everything. It takes him a while. There are obstacles in this journey both emotional and physical and political and whatever. So he has to be VERY careful in the beginning not to piss off Dumbledore. Maybe at first, Evans uncle implies that Flames are magic but that he didn’t have much more than a squib did and probably didn’t register as a muggleborn until after he had a near death experience (Dying Will) which allowed him to access the internal energy.

I have some less coherent brainstorming for a HPxKHR idea on my lj here but nothing specific to this Evans uncle idea.

I’m not against Evans uncle actually being an Evans aunt, but I did brainstorm this with an uncle specifically in mind.

edit: now titled Growing Strong (Burning Bright)

Untitled (2015-03-23)

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Surprisingly, it was Laila that solved the mystery. Or, at least, brought to light that said mystery… wasn’t.

“Oh, I know him,” she quipped sleepily from her seat in the corner booth, which had been, since the day she stepped through the doors, reserved solely for her use. Dandelion the cat sprawled elegantly next to her while Tommy the human lay curled up on her other side. Both of their heads were in her lap, gently being scratched, and they both had identical looks of half-lidded bliss. With all the blankets and pillows around her, and the Cat’s Meow’s only tea set in front of her, she looked like an ailing, well attended child-queen.

Jack, having already shed his Thunder persona along with his dignity with the appearance of Mr Tuesday, felt no shame in butting into the scene. Tommy growled at him, but grudging sat up properly to give him room to sit.

“Who is he?” Jack tried not to shout at her, though his eagerness was undeniable. Ness couldn’t have possibly heard, being too far away and busy with drink orders beside, but she glanced in their direction. Warningly at him in particular, “Please,” Jack amended.

“He works for CRO-Tech Industries, he’s like… second in command there,” Laila explained, “Suleiman Isidore is more well-known, but he’s not the only genius inventor,”

“How do you know that?” Tommy asked, as eager to know more about her as Jack was to know about Mr Tuesday.

“Oh. Well, Suleiman is my cousin.”

~

A/N: Continuation of the other post from today.

Well, I guess I’m connecting the Cat’s Meow universe to this drabble also.

And… to be completely honest, most of my original fiction is like… different parts of the same coherent universe.