Manacled

“James Potter used to say that war is hell. I used to agree with him. But now—I think he was wrong. War is far worse than hell. You’re no sinner; this is not a fate you deserve."

Lucius Malfoy had been standing mere feet from where Hermione was caged when he looked up at Ron and snarled “This is for my wife!”
Then he cast a curse that turned Ron’s blood gradually into molten lead. Hermione watched as the curse slowly crept through Ron’s body, destroying him from the inside out. She’d been helpless to do anything—helpless to spare him in any way.
Arthur Weasley had been left permanently addled by a curse during the war. He cried, not even understanding why he was in pain or that he was dying.
They had left Molly for last. So she’d watch all her children die.
Remus had lasted hours longer than anyone else. His lycanthropy kept healing him until he just hung there, unresponsive. Finally, someone shot the Killing Curse at him out of boredom

now my thoughts (spoiler here & there)

“I would do almost anything to have saved them. But when it comes to Light and Dark Magic, it matters. It’s never worth giving into the Dark Arts, no matter what you think you’ll get from it. The Order is going to stay Light.” (harry says)
Something inside Hermione snapped. “You’re not Light if you let people sacrifice themselves in order to keep your hands and soul clean.” She sneered at him.

"You don’t think Good can just win,” Harry said. The reproach in his voice was heavy.
“Everyone who wins say they were good, but they’re the ones who write the history. I haven’t seen anything indicating that it was actually moral superiority that made a difference,” she said as she murmured the spells to repair the fractures.

1. “Worrying about me, Mudblood?” he said with a sneer. “I have to admit I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Don’t take it as a compliment,” Hermione said stiffly. “I felt sorry for Umbridge when he tortured her too but I’d gladly dance on her grave.”
His mouth quirked with amusement. “Unfortunately, the snakes ate her.”
Hermione found herself smiling before she could stop herself. Malfoy gave a barking laugh.
“You are a bitch,” he said with a faint shake of his head.

2. “I’m training you,” Malfoy said abruptly
“Fine,” she snapped, her expression twisting in faint derision.
“You look so bitter,” his expression was vicious with mockery. “You’d think I just demanded you fuck me rather than not. Disappointed?”
“Only in your dreams,” she said, shooting him a glare.
“Every night.”
She rolled her eyes

3. "You’ve got several fractured ribs, a concussion, and internal bruising. It’ll take me ten minutes to fix it. Strip—from the waist up.”
“I thought that was my line,” he finally said as he reached up stiffly and unfastened his cloak, letting it pool in a careless heap on the floor. “If you wanted me so badly, you only needed to ask.”
“Yes. Nothing gets me going like the sight of an abdomen mottled with purple and green bruising.”
“I always knew you were a sadistic bitch.”

4. The corner of her mouth quirked sadly, and she looked down. Draco rested his forehead against hers, and she closed her eyes. It felt as though their souls were touching

5. “Love isn’t always as pretty or pure as people like to think. There’s a darkness in it sometimes. Draco and I go hand-in-hand. I made him who he is. I knew what his runes meant when I saved him. If he’s a monster, then I’m his creator. What did you think was the source of all his rage?

1. “Draco stared at her. “So who cares for you, Granger, if Potter doesn’t?”
She blinked.
“I don’t need anyone to care for me,” she said stiffly, but her voice shook. “It wasn’t an accident, Draco. I chose to reduce my casualty value.”
His expression hardened. “You let yourself become expendable to Potter.”
“The more weaknesses Harry has, the more vulnerable the entire Resistance is.”
She hadn’t thought Draco could look angrier than he already did, but he suddenly looked ready to explode.
“When I think I can’t hate Potter more, he finds a new way to prove me wrong,”

2. “Despite how cold he acted, his name was apt; he was a dragon. He kept walls of ice around himself, but there was fire in his heart"

3. "Draco, who worried about her more than anyone else did. Who had devoted time he couldn’t possibly have trying to train her and keep her alive. Because he just wanted her to be alive" (once they succeded in escaping voldy)

4. “She saw his hand twitch before he gripped his wand in a fist. His eyes were suddenly boyish and uncertain.
He had no idea how to do anything but be a soldier."

5. “He didn’t sleep if she left.
She tried slipping quietly into the next room to explore the bookshelves, but he appeared in the doorway within two minutes, wand in hand. She grabbed several books off the shelves and returned to their bed"

His tone was freezing. “After all, not every single horror that I’ve ever imagined has happened yet. Losing you and spending sixteen months trying and failing to find you. Finding you tortured and broken. Keeping you as a prisoner in this house. Raping you.” His voice was growing raw with grief and rage. “Having to hold you in my hands, and feel you in my head while your mind was ravaged. Finding someone raping you in my garden—”
“He didn’t,” Hermione said quickly, her chest constricting. “He didn’t. You got there in time.”
His eyes flooded with relief, but his mouth sharpened into a razor-edged smile. “Well, there’s that.”
He gave a short laugh and looked down at the floor. “Where was I? Ah yes. Finding you with your eye nearly gouged out because my wife had attempted to blind you. Finding you bludgeoning yourself against a window. Watching you waste away because I’d gotten you pregnant. Arriving to see you collapse and then learn that the damage from your Occlumency and the foetal magic was so severe you might not ever wake up—that I might have killed you.”
He had turned white. His lips thinned as his mouth twisted and then curved into a sneer. “Is that not enough? There are, undoubtedly, still unexplored depths to the potential misery between us. Should we endeavor to achieve all of it?”

“Hermione, I’m tired.”

“Have you seen yourself, Granger? There’s hardly anything left of you.” His eyes were wide as he stared intently at her. “Living is not worth it to me if you’re the one who keeps paying the price for it.”

i mean look at these lifeless eyes

“Your father has to go. He can’t stay here.” She choked. “He—he—he—”
She gestured down at herself. “The entire foyer is covered in blood. There were things hanging from the chandelier—intestines, I think. It’s on the portraits and all the orchids I brought back from France, and my new robes! The whole room is ruined. Mrs. Thicknesse was supposed to come to tea with her daughters and several other ladies planning for the celebration—now I’m going to have to cancel because most of the house is smeared with blood, and Bobbin says there are corpses piled by the gate. Make him go.”
“Get off this estate!” Astoria nearly shrieked. “Get off. Get off! Get—”
A razor-fine line of scarlet suddenly bloomed across the pale skin of Astoria’s neck.
Hermione watched, eyes wide with horror. A sort of gasping, burbling sound emerged from Astoria’s throat as her head toppled off her shoulders, and her body sank to the ground.
Lucius stared down at the fresh corpse at his feet, and his eyebrows arched approvingly. “You’re much quieter now,” he said, bending over and cocking his head at Astoria’s face where it lay in the white gravel. Her expression had gone limp and blank.
Lucius wagged a finger towards her. “Stay like this and, in time, perhaps my opinion of you shall improve.”
Hermione peered around Draco in shock.
Lucius straightened, sighing and tilting his head back in the sunlight. “The estate feels better already. My father used to say there’s nothing like fresh blood to fertilise the roses.”

🛼🛼🛼🛼🛼🛼others🛼🛼🛼🛼🛼🛼



ew why so cute

”The newspapers around the world featured a picture of Ginevra Weasley emerging from the rubble of a castle, her face filthy and streaked with blood. The brutal scar on her face was the first thing the photo clearly made out. She tossed her head back, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and cold triumph as she stepped into view, dragging Voldemort’s corpse behind her”

i was like :

’When Topsy finally let go of Draco, she went over to gather James into her arms and carried him away, still sobbing’