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  1. Public Bookmark *


    Where Naruto is concerned, does anything ever go according to plan? She's here to court chaos.


    22 Oct 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Ghost of an uncertain future:

    The world is a beast of a burden, but it’s a weight that Naruto has carried all her life without regret. And yet more than anything than this moment she feels weary and hammered down.

    This is the last resort.

    The world she once carried now has the lingering stench of decay, ash falls freely in a mockery of light rain, and the earth cracks with a thirst for sun and water. The only sound is the howling wind as she steps on this dry earth steadily making her way to what represented the pinnacle of shinobi civilization. There are not even ruins to allude to once stood here, what it represented, the will of the people who built it, nor those who inhabited it and carried on the will of fire.

    But there yonder.

    Yonder is the rocky precipice, the mountain that proudly boasted the faces of the fire shadows that led the Village Hidden in The Leaves. Now beyond there lies nothing, the mountain is gone, gone, gone.

    Naruto comes to stand before it, and then looks around her.

    Uchiha Madara has finally made the world in his image.

    And Naruto will undo all his hard work.

    ‘Kurama, will this work?’

    In the ether Kurama stirs, he ruminates on giving her the response he’s given her for every time she voiced this question. To Kurama it matters not, he was there at the beginning, he will be there at the end. He is primordial, he is eternal, and at the root of his being that has grown apathetic with the passage of time something stirs, for Naruto is different. In every cycle of humanity, he meets an extraordinary human, but Naruto’s shadow encompasses them all.

    ‘Yes.’ The wily fox grins at her sharp intake of breath. She’d been bracing herself for a negative response, but this will work, Kurama will make it so. Bend the rules that bind him in this cycle and use those seldom used powers that would drive humanity to madness. Just a touch, and perhaps Naruto will come away from this unscathed.

    Naruto nods and straightens, she bites her thumb and runs the bloodied appendage down her arm. Ink appears in intricate matrixes, dancing across her skin before coalescing at her feet and spreading into a seal. Naruto proceeds to draw on chakra that would require a platoon of jonin, and with it comes Kurama’s ancient essence, triggering the seal.

    The world around her explodes into awesome hues, and before her the very fabric of the space time continuum yawns open, Naruto does not hesitate to step through.


    Naruto wants a utopia, Kurama believes Naruto's goal is a pipe dream, after all utopia means no place.

    Humanity is fickle, this is something that has never changed through out the numerous millennia of his existence. Nevertheless, he believes that she is capable of ushering in an era of peace, and her legacy will follow, but it too will eventually become lost to the ages.

    Peace is a lie.

    Does that mean he will stand in the way of her dream? Nay, his purpose in this cycle is as a harbinger of destruction or peace. In this he chooses neither, he'll dwell in the gray.

    He is an ally that helps when called upon, lending his power, fighting the good fight.

    He is a confidant, giving advice of wisdom, words of warning as Naruto makes plans.

    He is a spectator, curious to see how Naruto will twist this world into her vision of peace, how ruthless she will be to those who will get in the way, how they will burn for her peace.


    Shadow clones remain her most resilient tool, and with it Naruto begins to gain what she has lost.

    And she resolves to be better.

    At her best the world still burned.


    Sometimes there’s a voice in her head that shouts “Naruto, no!” Particularly, when she’s about to cause some form of mayhem.

    Sometimes that voice has the deadpan tone of a scarecrow, sometimes the exasperated tones of Hokage-jiji or Ero-sennin.

    Sometimes that voice will take on the desperate tones of her mother or father, sometimes both, or what she thinks their voices would sound like had they been around to witness her shenanigans. But sometimes… sometimes when the mania is at its zenith that voice would take on a litany of all five.

    But regardless of her conscious feeling guilt, Naruto resolutely tells it to fuck off.

    In this moment, that voice sounds like Hokage-jiji telling her, “Naruto, NO!”

    And Naruto grins.

    There is nothing quite like life or death experiences to bond people together. Or in this case causing mayhem and damning the consequences.

  2. Public Bookmark *


    Fuck. Not once had he ever considered his soulmate would be anything other than a black woman. His opinions on that are already far too solidified to allow for anything else.

    Yet green eyes and a carbon copy soulmark are telling him otherwise.

    Fuck this shit.


    21 Oct 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “I hope you know what you’re doing, Harrie.”

    “Of course I do; all the money in the Black family vault is going to be spent helping those less fortunate get their feet under them. I can almost hear Sirius cheering me on.” At that, Hermione does crack a true grin, no doubt picturing the same thing as Harrie. Her godfather’s beaming pride, knowing hundreds of years of blood money was going right into helping muggles live a better life. Given the undertones that N’Jobu had hinted at regarding Erik’s (N’Jadaka’s?) past, Harrie cannot think of a more justifiable cause. With the profit money she gets from her shares in Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes going to aiding any muggleborns that required in, with the Order straightening out the Ministry, Harrie feels there’s no better time to skip town and country than right this moment.


    She doesn’t start in Africa. It wouldn’t feel quite right, almost like she were trying to cut right to the heart of the problem without addressing all the little delicate issues. Harrie, no matter her attitude and her record, is not going to be a hammer to slam down on the issue. Not this time. This doesn’t require blunt force, it needs a delicate hand, patience and persistence. In this, she must be Neville; tending to a plant that’ll wither without her constant input. Instead, Harry heads west to South America. She finds little wizarding enclaves, shares her knowledge with them. She meanders through shanty towns, sees the poverty and the disease. The latter she can deal with, even if it means sneaking into homes at night to heal people on the down-low. The former… for the former, she reaches out back to the goblins. Relations are still tense, even though Harrie had made sure to proclaim to the papers the goblins had allowed her to steal something of Voldemort’s, that they’d played a critical role in his defeat and that she’d never have managed to pull everything off if they hadn’t been in on it. Just so the bank can save face, but the lie still leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Soon enough, she owns fields, great big stretches of land where magical plants that can pass off as muggle are planted; every last one requires people to tend to them. Soon enough there are workers earning a living wage and the profit Harrie begins reaping from the goods she sells back to England is funnelled into another vault for the express purpose of aiding more people.

    She sweeps through Brazil and Peru, heads on down through the countries until sea standing at the very edge of the South American continent. Then, she decides to start on the little islands that dot the seas around South America before she makes her way up to the next continent. She tires working on her tan but the English blueblood of her father runs true; there’s no sun kissed complexion to her skin and it is only through the power of magical skin-protection products that she doesn’t roast like a lobster. Being out here, seeing the world… it’s clear that humanity itself has a problem. There’s oppression everywhere; it can be found in every little thing and it’s never solely on the colour of a person’s skin. Harrie sees women humiliated for wearing skirts just a shade too short than thought acceptable by men who really shouldn’t get a say in how a lady dresses (she starts an argument with them), she stops two men from getting beaten simply because they love one another (she can hear the ghost of Uncle Vernon’s cruel rants, his racist and homophobic jokes that he’d thought appropriate for tea parties). It’s not just race human’s can find fault with, it’s gender and sexuality and thoughts and actions. It is as if people cannot simply appreciate individuality and freewill, the freedom to make your own choices and embrace what makes a person unique. Maybe it’s because she had so much more going on during her life than being able to look out of her small circle and acknowledge this, but Harrie feels a little sick with it all.

    She sets up adult help centres to get people with poor opportunities jobs, she sets up community collage courses that allow a student to pay back their fees (and the only fees Harrie will allow is those that are non-profit) once they’re working. During this montage through South America and a few small islands, she has to make three reappearances in England to plug some changes to the law. All progressive changes that she agrees with utterly; better welfare for house-elves, equal rights for muggleborns, better rights for squibs. She pushes to keep the ball rolling, rallies the people and it almost comes easy now. Leading people through war is difficult; in companions, capitalising on that to keep the momentum of change rolling isn’t so bad.

  3. Public Bookmark *


    In the summer of 1994, Sirius returns to Grimmauld Place. There is a godson to take care of, innocence to prove, and magic to explore.

    In other words, Sirius plans his way back into the Wizarding World, and Harry Potter gets to eat hearty meals.


    19 Oct 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    They were alone on the beach; the Blacks used to come here often, to an unplottable area they had won over from a Scottish clan a long time ago, and nobody used it nowadays. Sirius remembered hiding there for a time in his early days a fugitive, the first time he could feel free because he was sure that there was absolutely nobody who would bother to go there. The Blacks had been absolutely mad about their privacy, and so he knew it was safe.

    He didn’t voice any of this to Harry, though. Harry had time to learn of all that, to learn Sirius, and he had years ahead of him to know Sirius’ pain. Sirius would spare him, if he could; Harry had enough of his own pain to fill in the whole ocean.


    There had been long evening talks in that old room beneath a charmed sky, private enough that it was only two of them, godfather and his godson, private enough that even Remus would never intrude. And it was them that led Sirius and Harry here, to the grey sand and the equally grey sky, great like a promise.

    ‘I always thought it would be bluer’, Harry remarked, observing the waves crushing with a loud but soft sound.

    ‘It can be’, Sirius said, thinking of the sky and the night, and of the sea. ‘But I think it’s okay as it is’.

    ‘Yeah’, Harry said. He wasn’t looking at Sirius; instead, his eyes followed the waves, straining as everything around them was darkening.

    ‘Eloquent’, Sirius teased, without a real sarcasm behind it. Harry shrugged. They had made a conscious choice to come here close to the nightfall; tomorrow, they would walk early to see a sky hopefully clearer, brighter, like a future.

    ‘Shall we, kiddo?’, he asked. Harry turned to him; his face was pale in the last moments of the grainy dusk.

    ‘You don’t want to wait for the stars?’, Harry asked. That’s what they’d planned; coming here at dusk so they could wait until sunset and stargaze. The weather was supposed to change soon and Sirius knew that with enough warming charms they could manage. Harry could even sleep if he wanted and Sirius would watch over him. But still, now with the night coming dark ink, Sirius thought that there was no reason to wait.

    ‘Why should we wait, Harry?’, Sirius asked gently. ‘I’m a star, you know’, he joked, thinking about his own name, and then his thoughts returned to Harry. ‘And you’re going to be one soon enough’.

    ‘Are you sure, Sirius?’, Harry asked. Sirius thought it was heart-breaking he needed to reassure his godson still; but he knew they needed more time, and now they had it.

    ‘Sure’, Sirius confirmed. His voice was light. His intent was not. He hugged Harry with one arm, placing the other hand on his own heart. ‘Ready, kiddo?’

    Harry didn’t say anything, but took a deep breath and nodded. Squeezing his arm – and oh, good, Harry was not cold – Sirius focused on his feelings: his wish to protect Harry in Lily and James’ stead, his love for the little toddler he had known a long time ago and for the brave teenager he knew now; his pride of everything Harry was and everything he was going to be; the sense of companionship and trust he shared with his godson just now. Sirius drew this all out of his magic, forming a ball of light; this one was not a silly thing he would entertain himself with. This one was important.

    Next to him, he could see Harry doing the same. Sirius felt pride at the thought of his godson mastering this aspect of wandless magic at such a young age – and he added this feeling to the ball of light too, for good measure. For Harry, he would make the sacrifice as strong as possible.

    And so he took his wand out and made a cut on his palm, mixing the magical light with his blood. He had been thinking of using a knife, but additional magic wouldn’t hurt, and he wanted Harry to have as much protection as possible. Beside him, Harry reached his hand palm up, and Sirius gently muttered the same spell. Harry winced and Sirius couldn’t help but apologise, but then his godson shrugged and pressed their lights of magic together. Intently, they pushed the light up into the air and watched it float higher and higher, into the dark sky.

    ‘Rigel’, Sirius said. It sounded right. ‘Harry James Rigel Potter. Welcome to the family’.

    Harry grinned and gave Sirius a hug. Sirius didn’t think it was the sea breeze on his own face so he must have been crying. He sacrificed that, too, as a thank you.

    Together, they sat there, in the cool air, waiting for the stars.

  4. Public Bookmark 84


    Twenty-eight year old Lord Harry James Potter-Black really didn't know how he was brilliant enough to take the business world by storm but be stupid enough to get roped into teaching rich brats for a year. Well, at least the Weasley twins weren't there.

    Ongoing- published 3/25/12


    18 Oct 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    He never understood what made golf so appealing, so in his curiosity, he tried. To his surprise, golf wasn't quite that bad. It took a lot of precision and luck to succeed in golf- it had taken him a couple of months to graduate from newbie to decent. Plus, he got to build connections while he played golf- connections were important no matter what.

    And it was the same connections that he build up that would bring him to a perfectly pink school in Japan.

    It had started out pretty normal one day at a golf course in France- he was playing golf with the other geezers like normal. And then that darn Yuzuru Suoh started talking a mile a minute. At first, he thought nothing of it- the man was a talker, and he was rather proficient at the long lost art of tuning people out. He really didn't know much of him, only that he had a son and ran a school in Japan.

    "... and I can't find a teacher for the new business course that's in the second years' curriculum" Suoh said, pretty much oblivious to the fact that Harry was paying more attention to his golf ball than he was to him.

    "Mhm."Hmmm... to aim high, or to aim low- that was the question.

    "The old teacher skipped out on me last second, and now I can't find anyone. I can't just find any old teacher- I only want the best for my students. Most business teachers just lack the personal experience that I'm looking for." The man babbled on.

    "Mhm." High- definitely high.

    "You're retired, right?" Suoh asked, suddenly struck by an idea.


    "Great! So you'll take the job?"

    "Mhm- wait. What?" Harry asked, finally paying attention to what was going on.

    "Great! School starts on the fourth of August. Be there at this address" Suoh scribbled down an address in Japanese "One week before school starts, and we'll talk about your living arrangements, pay, benefits, and the like." The headmaster handed him the piece of paper with an enthusiastic smile. Harry could have sworn he saw hearts spontaneously appear around the man.

    "Wait- I don't-" Harry began.

    Unfortunately, the elder Suoh's phone just happened to right at that minute. With a practiced gesture, he excused himself to take the call. Two minutes later, the man was back and looked to be in a hurry.

    "I'm sorry, but I've got to go. It seems like my son got himself into another situation at the school. Have a nice vacation- I'll see you on the twenty-eighth of July!" The normally composed Suoh hurriedly threw everything into a pile and drove off on his golf cart as if the devil himself was on his heels.

    Needless to say, since he left Harry in the dust, he never heard what the young multi-billionaire was going to say. After staring at the empty spot where that insufferable man once was for a good minute, Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. How did he get himself into situations like this? Really, the amount of trouble he attracts is ridiculous. He knew that he was a living, breathing statistical anomaly, but this was just plain weird.

    Well, I did say that I was bored. Harry mused. He wondered how Light was handling his company- last heard, the boy genius was investing in renewable energy sources. With half an army of engineers and architects, the company was churning out patents like nothing else. Much like himself, Light was talking the business world by the storm- quite literally kicking it off its axis. Though he supposed that it was good that Light steered clear of Europe (well, Greece) in general.

    With a sigh, Harry gathered his golf equipment and got onto his golf cart- he had preparations to take care of if he was to move to Japan in two months.

    Now standing in front of an Ouran Academy, Harry wondered if he should have avoided golf in the first place. Surely he wasn't cut out to be a teacher at the ripe old age of twenty eight. Well then, he mused, I guess I'll be stuck teaching rich brats for a year. It can't be that bad- at least the Weasley twins aren't enrolled in the school.

    Famous last words, Harry James Potter-Black. Famous last words.

  5. Public Bookmark *


    “There's a potion we can brew to check. It's more reliable than a muggle test,” she offered after a few seconds.
    And this was why Harry loved Hermione with all her heart.
    “I'd like that,” she said weakly.

    She'd honestly never expected to be a teenage mother, but somehow, Harry beat out her parents in the 'young parent' department. Now she just needed to track down the father to share the news...


    18 Oct 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    George looked a little uncertain for a moment, before he sighed and asked, "Is this really what you want?"

    Harry considered George -and the question- seriously for a long time. "I didn't plan this," she started slowly. "If I had gotten to choose, I would have probably waited a few years, but." She shrugged.

    George nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. "Well, if it would happen to anyone," he mused with a small grin audible in his voice.

    Harry snorted and smacked him half-heartedly on the upper arm, before hugging him back.

    "What was it you wanted to tell us before you went all... pregnant on us?"

    Harry eyed George with dry amusement a moment. He realised that she was pregnant all the time now, right? Even though you couldn't tell yet. Hopefully, she would be for the next eight months or so, too.

    "I just wanted to tell you that I found out his full name," she said, waving a hand at her stomach.

    George blinked. "And?"

    "Kyōya Ootori," Harry said with a slight smile, before she let it fall off her face with a sigh. "I'm still a long way from tracking him down, though. I'm not even sure he actually lives in Britain; he was here for business."

    George looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if he should. In the end, he came to a decision. "You don't have to tell him, you know?"

    Harry blinked. She'd never really considered not doing so. "I really think I do," she said. "I mean, wouldn't you want to at least know?" She gazed at George, who gave a slow nod. "I will tell him, give him the opportunity to be part of it if he wants, but if he doesn't, then I think we'll be just fine here." She smiled slightly.