the history of magic meme

[1castle4houses]

welcome to AU hell

RULES;

1. tag in
2. tag around!
3. mix and match - pick a setting from the first column and an AU from the second column (or use RNG if you like to live on edge -- there's 10 prompts per column)
4. have fun

HINTS;

We welcome and encourage all OCs. Add a little blurb about your character so other players have an idea what to play with, and feel free to add your preferences and permissions.
Ship, don't ship; make out, don't make out - all is fair game.

PROMPTS;

Setting	AU
1. Ancient	a. Soldiers on the same side
2. Middle Ages	b. Arranged marriage
3. 1600s	c. Great new discovery
4. 1700s	d. Childhood friends
5. 1800s	e. Met on the road
6. 1900s	f. Rags and riches
7. Roaring 20s	g. Members of two feuding houses
8. 1940s	h. It's all about the art
9. 1970s	i. Co-conspirators
10. WILDCARD	j. WILDCARD

Comments

AAAAAH AMAZING!!! <3 <3 <3

[timenssecundus]

"To die will be an awfully big adventure."

He got it. Pale rays of light tiptoed across the waters; and by and by there was to be heard a sound at once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world: the mermaids calling to the moon.

He looked up from nothingness to see her hand on the table; then looked further up to her eyes.

She's leading him gently, by exactly the right landmarks. Maybe the older him, mid-war, would be less able, but this Remus goes so readily, ready for all the confirmation that she not only knows him, but he may also know her.

(…which also means, yes, older-him would agree with present her: younger-him is a much better advocate and intermediary for himself, obviously much wiser on this front than he'll grow to be. But then…
First War—embedded with werewolves, bereavement and alienation from Marauders an unrealised trauma on its own, 1978-1981. End of the world, Halloween 1981. Homelessness 1982-1986. Near-total hermitry, 1987-1993. Horribly, the worst for Remus Lupin was yet to come. And "It's not true that suffering ennobles the character; happiness does that sometimes…")

There are qualities that stay the same, at least. One, likewise, is being a good listener.

When she recounts the books' judgments on metamorphmagi, he makes a sound of angry shock. Shock, clearly, that he didn't already know most of this—so many connections not only, as she's excellently pointing out, to his situation, but to all of his studies; but, yes, another of her points proven: actually rather an obscure subject. …And anger because, exactly… "Don't these pillocks know the harm they create," he… yeah, the word, more literally than usual, was growled. In part, feeling like a guard dog, in defense specifically of her.

When she mentions Bellatrix Lestrange, Remus's expression, intently listening, had a new aspect, like a rain, wash down it. A slightest change of frown, not better or worse, just… specific.

He hesitated on this one. "…I shouldn't tell. Because you know him. So you may know already, but maybe especially for that…" He bit his lip, then slightly shook his head. "Just promise not to show you know. All right? …The reason I took my specialty in Defense Against the Dark Arts. …I got into it cleaning up after Sirius. He is so… afraid… so violently opposed… to being like… those members of your extended family—that mindset of the House… the strength of that anger and resistance, itself… when he gets angry, it kind of explodes and… he becomes exactly like that." He looked down, and now his hand moved ever so slightly closer to hers. "I'm so sorry."

When she said she was rambling, he gave a disagreeing exhalation and self-deprecating smile. Compared to me? But he stayed quiet to keep listening.

Decidedly human. Yet another new kind of silence as he digested that.

The song… her voice… When silence fell, Remus looked utterly wrung out. Like he'd been laughing or weeping or he might start either or both.

If he were older here and now, he might have asked if he could kiss her. But it was maybe better he wasn't. He didn't actually want a snog anyway… he wished he could lie down with her somewhere warm and curl up together like cats until they both felt calm again, and safe.

But I do feel safe with you. …I get it. I'm sorry I won't feel safe enough everywhere else.

"Thank you," he finally managed.

[metamorphical]

The shock amuses her, and touches her, as does the offense taken on her part. "I lucked out. I know that. Two books not known in most circles? I was allowed to write my own narrative about metamorphing. But you know..having someone to talk about it would have been nice, yeah?" But she didn't have that luxury. "I read about everyone else instead. Vampires. Yetis. Werewolves. The last ones were the closest I could figure to me. And I wondered..if the things I had read about me was shit, then how much else was shit too?" It's why she holds such little judgment about the what of a person and so much more of the who. It doesn't hurt that her own monsters are human as human can be.

As for Sirius, she nods solemnly. "It's all one of those..what are they called? Self-fulfilling prophecies, isn't it? Try so hard to steer clear from something that you end up becoming what you didn't want?"

But when Remus thanks her, she smiles and lifts her eyebrows a little. She should be thanking him. So she does. "Thank you. I know it's hard..opening up. And I really appreciate every time you do."

Each time he does, she genuinely cherishes it. And not always the shiny things, the happy things, though she loves that. But the scary things. The things that help her understand how to keep him safe. The world isn't ready to be that safe harbor for either of them..but if she can just be a little calm in the storm, a little safety net for him to come home to, then she can let him be the same.

She pauses for a moment before voicing a part of that thought. "..I work with a partner, as an Auror. And I like that. Having my partner's back is just as important as knowing they have mine."

[timenssecundus]

Protecting each other

Another shy, but this time hopeful, smile dawned on Remus's face. This was definitely the kind of question they probably weren't supposed to ask… But he'd just broken his One Rule, and it was better having done so. So why not give it a try. And I really appreciate every time you do—

"So we do get there?"

[metamorphical]

So we do get there?

Tonks smiles, a tinge of wistfulness briefly there before it brightens more. "I'm fairly sure we want to." She hopes so, at any rate. And this, the ability to talk with him in his younger and more open self, gives Tonks a sort of confirmation of it. That it's not as one-sided as she sometimes worries.

The timing is awful, of course. And she knows that plays a part as well. It's a screwed up paradox, considering that without the war she and Remus might not have gotten close to begin with.

She mentally shakes that off and lifts her eyebrows. "I do have my ways of making you talk." She grins cheekily. "And you humor me with it."

[timenssecundus]

A smaller journey, to be sure, but a journey has definitely happened in this conversation. The way he meets her eyes and the small smile that rises to them is restored to how they began—but now also so different. Contains all the levels and leagues that they've now traveled.

"I can't wait," he said softly.

But he has to. Because they can't pursue anything now. Risk interfering with it then.

Not least because, right now, he's underage. And even in a place like this, that probably wouldn't be good on any level.

[metamorphical]

"Keep that thought close, yeah?" She requests with a warm smile. Tonks hopes it's enough to get him through the tougher times ahead of the young man. If in some fashion or another. However this works.

She taps her fingers against his lightly, playful and ready for a subject change. But before the next bout of mischief can be decided upon, she notices the bedknob -- still on the table but now with the petunias strewn around it rather than on it -- glowing a warm brassy red colour.

"Think that's our lot." She glances over to her companion with an apologetic smile.

[timenssecundus]

His eyes darted between hers and the bedknob… then, seizing the impulse, he took her hand and… (obviously at the last second) decided not to try to kiss it, but did squeeze it.

"I'll remember," he vowed—with the tiniest edge of desperate hope.