desdonna



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Stiles got Scott into trouble. It was a fact of his life at this point. Stiles had gotten him arrested, turned into a werewolf, onto the lacrosse team, and grounded six ways from Sunday after trying to use Kool-aid to dye his hair and instead dyed the tub. And then, well. The Sheriff meant well, and Scott and Stiles knew that, but it kind of drove Stiles up the wall and he accidentally blurted out that he was engaged to Scott to get his dad to stop. Scott didn't really mind, though. He'd done weirder things for Stiles.

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    10 Jan 2019

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Harriet Lily Potter was left on the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive. They called her ugly and gave her Dudley's hand-me-downs. They would tell people that she went to a boarding school for troubled young women. Dudley still offered to stick her head in toilets, and she still learned to snap back, "Really, Duds? The poor toilet's never had anything as nasty as your head down it, it might hurt it," and run.

    Harry was the kind of girl who came home with scabby knees, who snuck the kitchen shears in the dead of night to snip her dark messy hair short.

    She wondered, as she curled up in her cupboard, if Vernon and Petunia would have loved a niece who was pretty instead of scrappy, who had soft hands and never burned the bacon at breakfast.

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    28 Dec 2018

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Molly tried her best. When Harry had told them, Arthur had asked excitedly, "is this a Muggle thing?" Hermione had hurried out a "no!" and a frantic history of gender diversity in the wizarding world.

    "It's just that I'm a girl," Harry had said, and Arthur had nodded and asked her about how telephone booths worked. He would call her by the right pronouns until the day he died at the respectable old age of one hundred and thirty three, and he would make it seem easy.

    But Molly had to try. Hermione explained things faster and higher-pitched every time Molly messed up a pronoun. Molly frowned and muttered and put extra potatoes on Harry's plate at breakfast. Harry slept in Ron's room, which didn't bother either of them but which made Hermione scowl.

    Harry got boxes of sweets and warm hugs, as Molly chewed things over. For her fifteenth Christmas, the Weasley sweater she would receive would be a bright, friendly, terrible pink.

    The next time Harry visited, Molly put her on Ginny's floor to sleep-- for some definition of sleep that involved Hermione hissing threats at three in the morning if Harry and Ginny didn't "shut up about Wronski feints, do you know what time it is."

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    28 Dec 2018

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    On the train platform, Harry suffered a hug from Remus, a hair ruffle from Sirius, and a "don't do anything I wouldn't do" from his mother, and then he ran for the brick wall, cart rattling before him. The snowy owl they'd gotten him hooted softly in protest. Harry had named her Ororo after the Muggle comic books his mother had introduced him to. Lily took Harry to the comic store every time he sat through a whole visit with his aunt, uncle, and cousin and didn't kick anybody unless they kicked him first.

    Bill tried to wipe some dirt off a dodging Ron's nose. Ginny complained loudly about being left behind. Fred and George ran off to see Lee Jordan's spider. People watched the Weasleys from all directions--they were hard to miss--and Ron's shoulders slowly rose up and up to his reddening ears. He missed the big empty orchards behind the Burrow already.

    Ron was one of the last people on the train. He slid past staring eyes and finally stepped himself into an almost unoccupied compartment-- there was just one small boy tucked in there. He had messy dark hair, slightly askew round glasses, and a comic book held up in front of his nose.

    "Is it okay if I sit here?" said Ron. "Everywhere else is full."

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    28 Dec 2018

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Lily remembered her sister, how there had been a time she was curious and delighted about magic, before it slowly sank in that she could look and not touch.

    The last thing Petunia had said to Lily before she died was a chilly goodbye, ending a holiday dinner where they'd had a shrieking row in the entryway. Petunia had said 'freak' and Lily had hissed 'better than this, better than this being my whole fucking world, Tune, do you even see yourself, are you happy--'

    And now here was Dudley Vernon Dursley fussing himself to sleep as Lily walked the halls of the Godric's Hollow house. His tiny soft hands with their tiny soft fingernails curled under her chin, the same way Harry's always had.

    She passed James, who was gently bouncing his way up the hall the opposite way. "I think he's asleep," James mouthed over Harry's tousled head. His hair was the same mess, his head bent down as he peered at his sleeping son.

    Lily stopped where she stood, her nephew heavy on her chest, her husband smiling, her sister buried. "James," she said. "How are we going to do this?"

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    28 Dec 2018