XIV. Burning

QUILLKILLER!!!

“some people don’t deserve redemption” redemption isn’t something that’s deserved, it’s something someone does. it’s making the choice to change the way you live your life, to be better, to do good things instead of bad things and try to make up for the bad things. and everyone can and should do that, at any time, no matter what they’ve done. we can’t change the past, but we can choose what kind of person to be now and in the future. we have the responsibility to do so. it is so completely not about “deserving.”

Can i say something problematique for terminally online millenials and people born after that point: I think the seeming lack of ability or willingness to call one another and chat on the phone with friends unprompted or out of the blue contributes to whatever hellish loneliness everyone is talking about feeling these days. Say what you want about boomers and old people but those guys mostly knew how to keep in touch with each other. Idk man call a bitch today

It started slowly. The accidental brush of scarlet robes as they hurriedly passed one another in the dreary ministry corridor. Sweaty elbows bumping together, simultaneously drawing wands in combat. A gentle sweep of long cool fingers against Harry’s as he handed over crumpled departmental memos. The barely there press of a lithe body as Harry reached around to retrieve teabags in the auror’s kitchen. A warm breath on Harry’s cheek, huffed out laughter at Weasley’s latest one-liners at pub night after work. A pointy shoulder, strength and sinew crushed against Harry’s at the bar, and those soft grey eyes never leaving his face. Searching, then dropping low to Harry’s parted lips. An insistent knee pressing between his thighs, heated hands clutching at hips. It started slowly, but it would finish fast.

Did you seriously reblog a post defending the sanctity of life of pedophiles?

You did not read that post.

I understand that it might be difficult, because of the knee-jerk reaction we all have when it comes to this topic. I admit I also had the emotional first-response of disgust. But I urge you to go back and try to read it again, when you are cool-headed.

Stating that 'murdering people we find disgusting is not the moral high ground it feels like', is not the same thing as 'defending the sanctity of life' of anyone.

And while it feels good to emotionally say 'we should kill all (people who do bad things that cause harm to others)' this does not actually accomplish what our brains think it does.

From the post:

denying the humanity of people who do horrible things accomplishes exactly three things:

give cover to people who haven't been caught yet by allowing them to use their humanity as "proof" of their innocence

silence any criticism of societal structures and institutions that facilitate those horrible things by putting the focus on individuals who are assumed to be so uniquely monstrous that the ways it was made easy for them are irrelevant

provide a shortcut to dehumanize anyone you feel like killing: simply accuse them of doing a horrible thing

Listen, to me, listen:

I know that we are all human and when we see someone committing evil things, we feel justified and good, and we want to use our teeth and claws to rip them to shreds. I KNOW it feels incredible to reply to pain and harm with equal violence.

But on an ideological level, if you EVER hope to understand how emotional manipulation and dehumanization on a social level works, you NEED to be prepared to unwrap this delicious i-can-murder-that-person-and-feel-rightous burrito.

You need to understand why it is not the swiss knife of justice that it feels like.

You need to know that it can and will be used to kill innocent people who don't deserve it, and you will not even notice.

Because if you can justify murder with a simple 'if you fit into this category you automatically don't deserve to live' then you are supporting an authoritarian regime, who can and WILL happily take the easier job of convincing you that some person that they need dead fits the description (of a person you've already agreed doesn't deserve anything but a swift and unquestionable death).

This is why, when they needed the gays to be feared and hunted, they labeled them 'pedophiles'. This is why they're now doing this to trans people. This is why dehumanization is a tool of oppression, not justice.

There is way to fix injustice in the world and protect children without becoming easier to manipulate and trick.

microfic prompt | day 2: black

They sit in the centre of the orchestra—expensive seats for opening night. The boy is rapt by the overture, but grows inevitably restless, like all six-year-olds would, by the third aria. Harry watches from up in the mezzanine as Draco pulls Scorpius into his lap, rocking him softly to the opera singer’s bellowing vibrato. He’s asleep in Draco’s arms by the finale of the first act.

He’s still asleep when Harry approaches them outside, under the marquee, with a sea of gowns and tuxedos passing around them.

“Potter,” Draco says, breathless and familiar, like it hasn’t been seven years. Like he hasn’t been caught in a world-ending lie. Like he isn’t holding the end of the world in his arms. “So, you’re back.”

“I’m back.” Harry keeps his shaky hands shoved deep in his pockets, staring and staring at the black curls tucked against Draco’s pale neck. Sorrow sings through him with all the power of a chorus.

“I thought he’d have your hair,” Harry says.

May Prompt Thingy!

Part 11 - Forgotten

Malfoy’s shouting at an aide again.

“-Potter’s forgotten more magical theory since we arrived five minutes ago than you’ve ever learned in your entire sorry life-”

“Not going to ask for help again this time?”

“Mm?” Harry’s not paying much attention to Ron. Hard to, with Malfoy really in his element like this.

Ron sounds amused. “Never mind. You’d think this lot would want to cooperate considering they’re the ones getting cursed on the reg.”

Harry grunts. “These are the same idiots who thought it was both sensible and necessary to create a Pureblood Cultural Preservation Society and then used it to lobby for some of Grindelwald’s greatest blood supremacy hits.”

“-certainly hope you’re not suggesting that there may be an issue due to his Muggle lineage? Because that would be a breach of the Equality Act 2004, Section 5, Subclause 32A-”

“Oh my God, he just got spit right on that guy's face.” Harry was a bit breathless.

Ron laughs. “You’re absolutely fucked, mate.”

AO3

Prompt List

Part 1 - Key | Part 2 - Black | Part 3 - Coffee

Part 4 - Pathetic | Part 5 - Hang | Part 6 - Floral

Part 7 - Yawn | Part 8 - Crystal | Part 9 - Puzzle(d)

Part 10 - Scene

It's not a memory Harry will ever forget—Hermione, stressed out of her mind, clutching a little blue box from the muggle pharmacy. She'd kept messing up the charm, which was the real giveaway that she was panicking, so Harry had gone to buy it.

He sat on the other side of the bathroom door.

It was shit timing. She was in the middle of her second year exams for magical law school. Ron was in Japan for the four weeks of the Quidditch World Cup, having been selected as one of just two assistant coaches for England after his meteoric rise as the junior coach for the Chudley Cannons, taking them from bottom of the league to third place nationally in just two years.

When Hermione comes out of the bathroom, Harry sits up straighter. "What'd it say?"

"It's not immediate," she says, voice high. She sits on the floor beside him. "We have to wait a few minutes." Hand trembling, she casts a countdown charm, then puts her head between her knees. Harry rubs a hand between her shoulder blades.

When her wand vibrates, she shakes her head, voice still high-pitched. "I can't look. I can't."

So Harry climbs to his feet and walks into the bathroom, to find the little plastic stick resting on the counter.

There are two pink lines, a perfect match.

Hermione looks up at him, face already wet, and he crouches down in front of her. "It's positive."

She bursts into fresh tears. "I c-can't have a baby. I can't! But Ron—Ron's g-going to h-hate me if I—if I get rid—"

"Shhh, shh," he pulls her tight against his chest. "No he won't. Ron loves you. It's okay. You don't have to start—" Something lodges briefly in his throat. "—a family yet." He smooths a hand over her bushy hair. "It's way too soon. You haven't even finished getting fifty degrees."

Among the great, big heaving sobs, she gives a broken, snotty laugh into his shirt.

Six years later, two weeks after his twenty-seventh birthday, Hermione is the one smoothing his hair back as he retches into the toilet. He's been feeling shit for days, and he's fucking over it. Finally, he sits back against the tiles, stomach muscles aching.

Ron's in the doorway, rocking baby Hugo to sleep. "Blimey, Harry. What did you eat? Slugs?"

Harry snorts weakly, reminded of second year. Eat slugs, Malfoy. Malfoy, his auror partner of almost two years now. Malfoy, who's been shagging him quite thoroughly for the last five weeks. Harry misses him, which feels pathetic, given he's only gone to Paris for three days with his mother. But it feels like a fucking lifetime when Harry's feeling so under the weather.

"I don't know," he answers, coughing at the lingering taste of bile. "I tried some Pepper Up, it hasn't helped at all."

"Harry," Hermione says slowly, a peculiar look in her eyes. "Have you been seeing someone?"

"Um. That's… a bit out of the blue." He presses a fingernail into a nearby line of grout, dropping his gaze.

"That's not a no."

He feels his face grow hot. He and Malfoy still haven't had the 'what are we' talk yet; there hasn't really been a lot of talking in general, to be honest. "Yeah. I—think so. I mean I am. Yes."

"Okay." She pulls out her wand, and Harry eyes it, alarmed. "I'm going to cast a... diagnostic charm on you. I want to check something."

"O...kay?" he echoes, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his t-shirt. "I'm not under a love spell or anything."

"No, that's not—" She does a complex charm pattern in the air, and a pale blue glow fills the room.

Ron sucks in a sharp breath. "Holy fuck, are you saying he's—?!"

Hermione nods, eyes bright. "Harry—"

"Ten galleons it's Malfoy's," Ron says in a rush.

"Ron!" Hermione scolds. "Now is not the time! And I'm not taking that bet, I'm not stupid."

"Excuse me," Harry says. "What the fuck are you guys talking about?"

She crouches in front of Harry, and takes his hand.

"Harry. I think you're pregnant."

Match 👶 Day 16 of @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean’s prompts. Full collection on ao3.

DRARRY JAYVIK !!!!