Chapter 17
Marauder's Den
December 25th 1998
Early Morning
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, casting soft golden light through the windows of the cozy French cottage. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pine from the Christmas tree that stood proudly in the corner of the room. Its branches sparkled with tinsel, silver baubles, and hand-carved ornaments that gleamed in the early morning light. The large, crackling fire in the hearth added its warmth to the room, casting a comforting glow over everything.
Around the tree, nestled on plush, warm rugs, the children sat in eager anticipation. Harry's eyes were wide with excitement, his hands already clutching a bright green ribboned package, a big grin stretched across his face. He was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, a bit too jittery for his usual calm demeanor.
"Come on, Harry! Open it already!" Neville urged, his voice brimming with excitement as he gripped his own present—a small square box wrapped in shiny gold paper. The others echoed him, though with varying levels of impatience and cheer.
Sirius, lounging in an armchair by the fire, exchanged an amused look with Remus. "I think we may have created a monster," he whispered with a grin, nodding toward Harry, who was already tearing into his present with wild enthusiasm.
"I don't know if I'd call that a monster," Remus chuckled softly, sipping his coffee. "I think it's the magic of Christmas." He glanced around at the rest of the group—Alice and Frank sitting on the couch, Augusta and Minerva sharing a moment of quiet contentment nearby, and Amelia, the ever-vigilant protector, keeping an eye on the children as she smiled warmly at the scene.
The children were laughing, helping each other unwrap their presents. Susan gasped as she opened a box containing a set of colorful magical quills, each one with its own enchanted ink. "These are perfect! I've been wanting new quills!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up.
Charles, ever the lover of oddities, jumped up and danced around the room with a small stuffed dragon that puffed out tiny streams of smoke when squeezed.
Julius, who had recently started showing an interest in magical creatures, unwrapped a soft leather book on care for magical beasts. His eyes shone with delight as he immediately opened it, flipping through the pages with awe. "This is amazing!" he whispered, showing the others a drawing of a niffler. "I'll be able to take better care of the ones I'm looking after!"
Octavius, with a more reserved smile, carefully unwrapped a set of shimmering silver chess pieces that moved and changed positions on their own when touched. "Brilliant," he muttered, his fingers lightly tracing over one of the pieces, a small knight that trotted across the board.
The room hummed with joy as Harry tore into his own gift. His eyes lit up as he pulled out a brand-new broomstick—lightweight, sleek, and perfect for flying. "A Comet 260!" Harry practically shouted, holding it up to show everyone. He couldn't believe it. "I can actually fly on my own now! This is—this is brilliant!"
Sirius was grinning ear to ear, clearly pleased by Harry's excitement. "I thought you'd like that. You've been eyeing brooms all year."
Harry threw himself into Sirius's arms in a hug. "Thank you, Sirius!" he said, voice full of gratitude.
Frank, chuckling from his seat on the sofa, looked to Remus. "Looks like someone's going to be the youngest seeker in history."
Remus just smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. "It's nice to see them so excited."
Minerva, watching the scene unfold with a small smile, leaned in close to Augusta. "It's moments like these that make everything worthwhile, don't you think?"
Augusta nodded, her eyes twinkling with joy. "Absolutely. The children bring so much life to the house. It's a blessing."
As the morning wore on, they continued unwrapping presents, each one more delightful than the last. Remus gave Julius a small but incredibly detailed model of a hippogriff, which Neville immediately began trying to animate with his wand. Amelia gifted Susan a beautifully embroidered cloak, while Frank had found the perfect set of training books on magical herbology for Neville, who was already muttering the Latin names of plants with intense concentration.
The laughter and the joy seemed endless as they all shared breakfast together, feeling like one big family. In that room, with the warmth of the fire, the soft hum of voices, and the undeniable love that filled the air, Christmas had never felt more perfect.
December 25 1988
Marauder's Den
10 Pm
It was late in the evening, and the warmth from the fire crackled softly in the background, casting a gentle glow over the room. The house was quiet now, the children tucked into bed after a long day of celebrations. Sirius and Amelia sat in the parlor, a comfortable distance between them, but the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air. It had been years since they'd had a conversation like this—honest, raw, unguarded.
Sirius stirred his drink slowly, his eyes fixed on the swirling liquid, avoiding her gaze. He knew this conversation had been coming, and he wasn't sure how to approach it. The guilt still gnawed at him, even after all these years. The betrayal he'd caused Amelia, the pain he'd inflicted upon her, was a weight he hadn't been able to shake.
Amelia, on the other hand, sat still. Her posture was straight, but the air around her was tight, controlled. She had waited so long for this moment—her heart had been broken once, but it had taken years to fully understand the impact of it, and she needed answers. Tonight, she was ready to confront him.
"Sirius," she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice trembled slightly but remained steady. "We need to talk."
He looked up at her then, his eyes clouded with regret. "I know," he whispered, his voice low.
Amelia didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Why did you do it? Why did you cheat on me with Casey?"
Sirius flinched, his heart sinking at the question. He had braced himself for this but hearing her ask it still cut through him like a knife. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to gather the words he had buried for so long.
"I thought... I thought it was the only way to protect you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "You know how dangerous things were getting. Voldemort was coming after blood traitors, and I couldn't... I couldn't bear the thought of you being targeted because of me. I thought if I made you hate me, if I made you believe I was just a terrible person, you'd stay away. I thought it would be safer for you that way. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. I couldn't tell you that I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away."
Amelia's breath caught in her throat as his words washed over her. It was a horrible, twisted logic, but she could almost see it. She understood, on some level, what he had been thinking—yet it didn't make the pain any less sharp. She had loved him, trusted him, and he had shattered that trust. But the betrayal wasn't the only thing that hurt her now. It was the idea that he had kept this from her, that he had thought she couldn't handle the truth.
"Why Casey?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was a sharpness to it now. "Why did you pick her?"
Sirius looked down, guilt clouding his features. "She was... she was jealous of us from the beginning. She made it clear she didn't like how close we were, how I was always there for you. She was always the one pushing for my attention, always trying to make you feel inferior, but I never saw it, not until it was too late. She knew how to manipulate me. It was easy for her. I... I let it happen because it was easier than confronting the truth. It was stupid. It was wrong."
Amelia's hands clenched into fists in her lap, the memories flooding back—how Casey had always been there, always hovering, always making sly remarks, always acting like she was the one who should be with Sirius. It hurt even more to know that Sirius had let it happen, that he had chosen to give in to that manipulation.
"Don't you see?" Amelia said, her voice cracking now with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "I am a blood traitor, too. That wouldn't have mattered! I would have stood by you through it all, even if the entire wizarding world turned against us. But you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. You thought I wouldn't be able to handle it, that I wouldn't be strong enough. But you were wrong."
Sirius's chest tightened at her words, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Amelia, I..." he trailed off, unable to finish. He wanted to explain, to make her understand, but he knew no explanation would ever be enough.
"I'm so sorry," he finally said, his voice raw. "I was a coward. I hurt you when I should have been protecting you, and I will never be able to make up for that. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I regret it every single day. I never meant to cause you that pain. It was a stupid decision. I Thought I was doing what was best. I was wrong."
Amelia's gaze softened, but her resolve remained. She took a long breath, her heart still heavy with the weight of the past. She had listened to his words, heard the sincerity in them, and for a moment, she could almost feel the sincerity of his apology deep inside. But she wasn't ready to let go of the hurt yet. Not entirely.
"I accept your apology, Sirius," she said, her voice steady, though it trembled slightly. "I do. But you haven't been forgiven. Not yet." She paused, looking him directly in the eyes. "Maybe one day, but not now. You broke me, Sirius. And it's going to take time to rebuild that trust. But I believe you're trying. And that means something."
Sirius nodded, his heart heavy with the knowledge that this was only the first step. But it was a start, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. "I'll wait for as long as it takes," he promised quietly. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Amelia didn't respond, but the faintest hint of a smile touched her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the words shared between them. In that moment, amidst the hurt, there was the faintest trace of healing—a beginning, a promise that maybe, just maybe, things could be repaired.
December 26 1988
Marauder's Den
11 am
It was a chilly morning when Fleur finally arrived, the magic-infused carriage she'd come in pulling up with a soft whoosh on the snowy grounds. The kids had been waiting eagerly, peering out the window from the cozy parlor. As soon as the door swung open, Fleur stepped out, her pale blue robes shimmering in the sunlight, her platinum blonde hair cascading around her shoulders like a veil of silk. She was, as always, absolutely stunning, but this time, there was something even more captivating about her—the air of mystery that surrounded her Beauxbatons experience was palpable.
"Fleur!" Harry exclaimed, his face lighting up with excitement as he rushed toward her.
Neville, Susan, Charles, and Julius followed quickly behind, their faces equally eager. Even Octavius, the eldest of the group, looked unusually animated, leaning forward to see her better.
Fleur smiled warmly at them all, her eyes twinkling as she hugged Harry tightly. "I missed you all!" she said. She looked at the others, they were enveloped in another round of hugs.
"Well?" Charles asked, practically bouncing on his feet. "How's Beauxbatons? Tell us everything!"
Fleur chuckled, brushing off the snow from her robes before sitting down beside them on the large, cushioned armchair by the fire. She grinned at the group, happy to finally have a chance to share her adventures. "Oh, Beauxbatons is... magical." She said, her words drawing them in like an irresistible spell.
The others gathered around her eagerly, eyes wide. Fleur began to speak more animatedly as she recounted everything.
"The castle is enormous, and the grounds are even more beautiful. There are these lush, manicured gardens, and when it's not snowing, we have these grand walks by the fountains. You wouldn't believe how grand the fountains are! One of them is dedicated to the Flamels—the alchemists, Nicolas and Perenelle." Fleur looked around the group to make sure they were all listening closely. "The water is said to have healing properties. You could sit by it for hours, just taking it all in."
"What about your classes?" Neville asked, eager for more details. "Do they do anything different than at Hogwarts?"
"Oh yes, there are many differences!" Fleur replied, leaning forward. "Our classes are more... elegant, I guess? We have a lot of focus on refinement, but also on practical magic. There's a lot of emphasis on potion-making, care of magical creatures, and charms, of course. The professors are all excellent, especially Professor Deneuve, who teaches Transfiguration. She's so precise—it's like watching art being created right in front of you."
"Sounds like it's all fancy," Julius said with a grin, nudging Fleur playfully. "What about Quidditch? Do they play that at Beauxbatons?"
Fleur's face lit up at the question. "Oh, we play Quidditch, yes! The pitch is enormous, bigger than Hogwarts, and we have different types of brooms too. The teams are incredibly competitive. You'd be surprised how aggressive the matches can get," she added with a knowing smile.
Neville's eyes widened. "What about the team? Do you play on it?"
Fleur's laugh was musical as she shook her head. "I haven't played yet, but I'm thinking about trying out for next year. There are some very good players at Beauxbatons, but I have confidence I could get on the team."
"You'll do it, Fleur!" Susan exclaimed, her voice full of admiration.
Fleur smiled gratefully, then her expression shifted to one of contemplation. "But not everything is easy. The girls... some of them, especially Casey, are a bit difficult. They don't always like that I've been made to feel so welcome. There's some jealousy, but that's expected, I suppose."
Harry, who had been listening intently, suddenly found himself sitting a bit closer to Fleur. He could tell there was more to the story—there always seemed to be more, with Fleur.
She caught his gaze and winked, sensing his curiosity. "Don't worry, Harry," she said, laughing softly. "It's nothing to be worried about. I can handle it."
Harry nodded, feeling reassured by her confident smile, though a part of him couldn't help but wonder what she wasn't saying.
Fleur shifted slightly, leaning back in her chair and glancing at each of them with a smile. "But enough about me," she said, her tone shifting to something lighter, more teasing. "Tell me about all of you! How have you been? What have you been up to?"
The kids took turns recounting stories from their adventures over the past few months, all the while Fleur listened attentively, asking questions and laughing along with them. Harry noticed how easy it was to be around her—she had a way of making everything feel like it was the most important thing in the world.
Finally, when it felt like the day had stretched on forever, Harry sat down next to Fleur, his excitement still bubbling inside.
"What's your favorite class so far?" Harry asked, his eyes wide as he turned to her.
Fleur leaned her head on her hand thoughtfully. "I think I love Care of Magical Creatures the most so far. We had a class with Hippogriffs last week, and one of them—his name is Zéphyr—he let me ride him! He's very stubborn but kind when you get to know him. Charms is a close second though."
"That's amazing!" Harry grinned, his thoughts instantly running wild with images of Zéphyr. "I can't wait to see a Hippogriff someday."
"Maybe you will," Fleur said, her smile softening. "You all should visit Beauxbatons sometime—then you can meet Zéphyr in person."
"Deal," Harry said, his voice filled with wonder.
The afternoon wore on, filled with laughter, shared stories, and the kind of warmth that only comes when you're surrounded by the people who truly matter. It was a simple moment, but to Harry and the others, it was a precious one.
Wizengamot Chambers
January 12, 1989
9 am
The grand chamber of the Wizengamot was as imposing as ever, its high arches and dark stone walls echoing the weight of centuries of magical law. The long rows of seats were filled with the most powerful witches and wizards in the magical world, some perched on the edge of their seats, others sitting back with practiced ease. At the front of the room, behind the high podium, sat Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, his long white beard gleaming in the dim light as his wise eyes scanned the room.
The gavel came down with a sharp rap, and the low hum of conversation ceased immediately.
"Order!" Chief Warllock Dumbledore's voice rang out, calm and soothing. "The Wizengamot is now in session. We have many matters to discuss today, and I trust that all members will approach these proceedings with the gravity they deserve."
The room fell into a hushed silence, and Sirius Black, seated among the other members, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Though he had attended many Wizengamot meetings before, the stakes always seemed higher with each new session. His eyes flicked to his fellow members, many of whom were old family names—their robes regal and their faces lined with years of political maneuvering.
"Let us begin with the first matter," Dumbledore said, his voice soft but carrying. "A new law proposed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement regarding the regulation of magical creatures, particularly the growing problem of rogue beasts terrorizing both magical and Muggle communities."
Sirius sat up, his attention sharpening. The issue of rogue magical creatures had been a hot topic ever since the Dark Lord's return. Various species had begun to behave erratically, likely influenced by the instability in the magical world.
Amos Diggory, Head of the Department of Magical Creatures, rose from his seat first. "The proposal is simple: the Ministry will place a registry on all known magical creatures that are not classified as 'domesticated' under the Statute of Magical Creatures Regulation. This will require owners to register creatures that are classified as 'dangerous' and submit them for monthly evaluation. Any unregistered magical creature found roaming in a public area will be detained and the owner fined or imprisoned. It is an approach to protect both magical and Muggle communities from further incidents."
There was an uncomfortable shift in the room. Sirius did not approve of this proposal. Many creatures in the magical world, though rare, were misunderstood or poorly regulated—not inherently dangerous, but dangerous when mismanaged. It was not enough to regulate the creatures; the owners and their intentions should be examined more closely. Sirius raised his wand and waited,
"Lord Black has the floor," Dumbledore said.
"I do not disagree that rogue creatures pose a problem, Lady Diggory." Sirius said, rising to his feet, "but I believe this law fails to take into account the distinction between a creature that is dangerous and a creature that simply has been mistreated or abandoned. We cannot make sweeping judgments about entire species without context. I propose we include provisions for rehoming and rehabilitation before any punitive measures are considered."
Several members murmured their agreement, and Lord Diggory raised an eyebrow but nodded in recognition.
"Noted, Lord Black," Dumbledore said, and the motion was referred to a subcommittee for further review. "Let us move on."
Sirius sank back into his seat, his eyes scanning the faces of his fellow members. There were no easy answers to the challenges ahead, but he hoped that the balance between safety and empathy would be maintained.
"The next matter we must discuss," Dumbledore continued, "involves a new proposal concerning the rights of Muggle-born witches and wizards, particularly their protection in light of the growing number of attacks by extremists. The law would provide stronger protections for Muggle-borns, ensuring that any attack against them would be classified as a hate crime and subject to harsher penalties."
Lady Greengrass, a silver-haired aristocrat whose name was whispered in the most exclusive circles of wizarding society, rose to speak. Her voice was smooth, cultured, but carried an unmistakable edge.
"While I agree that Muggle-borns should be protected," she began, "this new law goes too far. It gives Muggle-borns special status, creating a divide between them and pure-bloods that further foments discord. We risk painting Muggle-borns as victims, when in reality, many are perfectly capable of defending themselves."
Sirius clenched his fists, but he knew better than to jump in immediately. Lady Greengrass had her own agenda, and it was clear she was playing to the old guard of pure-bloods.
"I must disagree, Lady Greengrass," said Lord Abott. "We are not talking about giving Muggle-borns more power, but rather ensuring they are afforded the same protections as any wizard or witch. The attacks we have seen on them are not random—they are part of a larger, dangerous trend that we cannot ignore."
Sirius felt a surge of pride as Lord Abott spoke up. It was easy to forget that many of the older generation of pure-blood families, like the Abotts, stood for something different, something better. The motion was passed overwhelmingly.
"Let us now turn to the last matter of the day," Dumbledore said, his tone a bit more serious now. "A new proposal for the restructuring of the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, particularly in light of the growing concern over the increasing number of underage magic violations."
The room fell quiet again. This law, a direct result of the Ministry's increasing anxiety over young witches and wizards accidentally revealing magic to Muggles, was a contentious topic. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had been under pressure to tighten restrictions on underage magic, particularly in the aftermath of several high-profile incidents involving young witches and wizards.
Lord Fawcett, a stern wizard with an angular face, rose to speak. "The proposal calls for harsher penalties for underage magic, including a mandatory review of magical education and discipline for any child found to have violated the underage magic law. It also calls for more surveillance of magical households and more frequent inspections by the Ministry."
Sirius frowned. This law, in its current form, was far too authoritarian. It felt like another step toward tightening control over families, particularly those who lived in areas that bordered Muggle communities. Sirius raises his wand and waited once more.
"Lord Black has the floor." Dumbledore stated.
"I can't support this, Lord Fawcett," Sirius said, standing once more. "Underage magic is often a symptom of a larger issue—whether it be a lack of magical education, familial support, or an overbearing environment. Before we go punishing children, we need to look at what's happening in their lives. You can't expect to prevent underage magic with laws alone."
The room murmured its disapproval, but Sirius was undeterred. "If we want to address this issue, we must invest in our schools, our families, and our community. This law is a band-aid, not a solution."
"I second that," Lord Longbottom said, Sirius nodded politely at his friend.
Lord Fawcett, ever the stickler for rules, glared at him but did not challenge him directly. Dumbledore intervened before the matter could escalate further.
"Indeed, a review of the law is warranted," Dumbledore said, his tone conciliatory. "We will be forming a committee to investigate alternative approaches to underage magic violations, focusing on education and community outreach."
The meeting was long, and the tension never quite left the room, but one thing was clear: Sirius was determined to protect the rights of witches and wizards, regardless of their blood status or age. As the session drew to a close, he exhaled, his thoughts swirling with the weight of the day's decisions. There was much to be done in the coming months, but Sirius would not sit idly by. His family's future—and the future of the wizarding world—depended on the choices made in this very room.
"Lord Black, a word?"
Sirius turned as Lord Alexander Davies approached, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Of course, Lord Davies," Sirius replied, his exhaustion forgotten for the moment. He had his work cut out for him, but there were still allies to be made—and battles to be won.
"Lord Black," Lord Davies greeted him with a nod, his voice cool but not unkind. "A moment of your time, if you please?"
Sirius straightened, giving him a polite smile. "Of course, Lord Davies. What can I do for you?"
He didn't immediately respond. Instead, He stood there for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the room as if to make sure no one else was listening. His expression was a mix of calculation and something else—something that made Sirius wonder if this conversation was about more than just politics.
"I wanted to speak with you about the vote on the new laws," Lord Davies began, his voice lowered so it wouldn't carry too far. "And about your… stance on the proposal regarding underage magic."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, his attention fully on him now. He had been expecting the topic of the magical creature registry, or perhaps the Muggle-born protections, but the discussion about underage magic had been particularly contentious.
"I assume you're not here to scold me about my objections, Lord Davies," Sirius said with a half-smile, though he was certain his words didn't fool her.
Lord Davies' lips twitched, though his expression remained serious. "Not scolding, no. I don't believe I need to do that. I'm more curious about your reasoning. It's not every day I see someone so adamant in opposing a proposal that has the backing of most of the Wizengamot."
Sirius sighed, glancing around the chamber as though seeking for something to anchor his thoughts. He met his gaze again, the weight of the situation clear. "It's not that I disagree with the need to protect our children from rogue magic, Lord Davies. But the law—this law—treats the symptom, not the cause. Underage magic violations don't simply happen in a vacuum. There's often a reason behind them—stress, family circumstances, and yes, sometimes the environment. By focusing on punishing children, we're failing to address the root issue."
Alexander's brow furrowed slightly, and he took a step closer. "I understand your point, but how do you propose we deal with children repeatedly breaking the law? We cannot simply ignore the danger. We've seen enough incidents that put both the magical and Muggle communities at risk."
Sirius shifted his weight, a troubled look crossing his features. "I don't believe we're ignoring the danger, Alexander," he said, using his first name with an ease that felt both natural and carefully considered. "But making these children the targets of punishment doesn't solve anything. We should be focused on understanding them—on giving them the support they need. The Ministry needs to invest in better magical education, better familial support for at-risk children. And we need more preventative measures, not just penalties."
Lord Davies paused, as though considering his words. He wasn't one to be easily swayed, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps respect, or maybe just contemplation.
"I don't disagree with you," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "The Ministry has long ignored the larger social issues in favor of punitive measures. I've seen firsthand the effects of that approach, especially among families who are already struggling. But it's not an easy fix, Sirius. Some families—some children—simply don't have the support they need."
Sirius nodded, his gaze softening. "I know. That's why we need a better system. One that addresses the whole problem, not just parts of it."
Lord Davies studied him for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh. "You've always been passionate about these things. It's one of the things I admire about you, Black."
His words hung in the air, and Sirius raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected him to admit that. He had always known that Alexander Davies was a force to be reckoned with in the political world—uncompromising, methodical, and unyielding in his quest for justice.
"You've always been the voice of reason in this chamber," he continued, his tone thoughtful. "I'll give you that. I can't promise the laws will change overnight, but I'll make sure your concerns are heard, Sirius. I'm willing to see if we can find a more balanced approach to this issue. You've made your case—and you've done it well."
Sirius didn't speak immediately. There was something in his words that made him feel both relieved and cautious. Lord Davies wasn't easily moved, and for him to agree to bring the issue up again was significant.
"Thank you," he said at last, his voice sincere. "I appreciate that, Alexander."
He nodded, His expression softening just a little. "We might not always agree, but I know we both want the same thing in the end: a safer, fairer world for our children. Just don't expect me to start agreeing with you on every issue, Black. I'm not that easily persuaded."
Sirius chuckled softly. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Lord Davies gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Then I think we understand each other. I'll be in touch once the subcommittee on underage magic has met. In the meantime, don't cause too much trouble. And do tell Ameilia Hello for me."
"I'll try my best," Sirius replied, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and determination.
As they exchanged one last look, Sirius couldn't help but feel a shift in the room. There was no grand reconciliation or sudden agreement between them, but in that moment, the foundation for something more—a tentative respect, perhaps even an alliance—had been laid. For the first time in a long while, Sirius felt that the fight for a fairer future was something he could face alongside others who shared his vision.
AN: I did some research and so far, I cannot find who was the head of the Department of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in 1989, So I made it Amos Diggory.
Lord Davies is the father of Roger Davies and Chester Davies. Roger is Fleur's date from the fourth book/movie and Chester is a Ravenclaw Prefect in Hogwarts Mystery. Their blood status is unknown, so I made them pureblood for this.
Also totally winging it with any Laws and shit in this story.
Sextant: When I originally wrote this I was going to have it be a Molly!Bashing fic. Read a lot of those back when this started. Changed my mind and then never changed it later.
Mutant Ascension: ? Did you have a point, or did you just want to rant? Snape isn't a good guy in this fic. Nor does Lily not know this. You left this review of chapter 2. I assume it was because of the letter. She was his friend. Yes she knows he did bad things. She never found out how bad some of the things he did were. But he was her first friend in the wizarding world. She still holds out hope that he can return to the light because I believe that's who she is. Lily was a loving person (to me at least), she wanted to see the best in people, but she admitted that she didn't think it would happen. Its not wrong for people to hope that their ex friends will change and come back to them.
Klester: Just assume Neville got handed to someone else in the room.