what if – knitting in the dark

my-mind-palace-blog:

hopelemorgan:

thisacelovessabriel:

marauders4evr:

Harry Potter AU where Harry is hiding in the cabinet in Borgin and Burkes. And he sees Lucius grab Draco with his cane. And he hears the hiss, “What did I tell you?” And he hears the quiver in the blonde boy’s voice, “Don’t touch anything.”

And Harry knows.

Because he’s used the voice that Draco uses for the past twelve years.

He knows.

Because now that he’s lived with the Weasleys for over a month, he knows that that’s not the way that a father’s voice should be.

He knows.

He’s heard Vernon use that voice over and over again, day after day, year after year.

And he knows.

And he acts.

Because really other than being a spiteful little git, at this point, Draco really hasn’t done anything to truly harm Harry. And Harry’s twelve. He’s still young, still innocent, easy to forgive, easy to let his “saving people thing” get the better of him.

He doesn’t do magic. Not really. At least, he doesn’t mean to. Well, he does. But he tries to stop himself. Though it’s not a very good attempt. Either way, the jars on the shelves all shatter, their contents falling onto Lucius’ head.

And Harry bursts out of the cabinet and he grabs a very startled Draco’s hand and he pulls him out of the shop. And they’re running down the dark, grim, streets. And it’s not long before they get lost since Harry doesn’t even know where they are, let alone where they’re going.

But Draco knows exactly where they are and so he tugs Harry down a road and around the corner and suddenly, they’re in Diagon Alley. And Harry’s shocked and confused because how could such a terrible place exist next to such a wonderful one?

But they don’t have time for that now because Lucius is charging after them, green spells bursting out of the end of his wand. And Draco lets out a scream and Harry (bless him) wonders aloud what kind of spells the green ones are.

And Draco is tugging his arm so hard that he thinks it’s going to come out of his socket. And the boys run as fast as they can, pushing through the crowd, and Harry’s probably apologizing and Draco’s screaming at him to move and apologize later.

And Harry sees the mob of red heads and he’s screaming for their assistance.

Fred and George spot him first, right as their mother is asking, “Where on earth could Harry be?”

“Found him,” the twins say.

Gasps. Screams. School supplies tumbling to the ground.

And Arthur and Molly, oh Arthur and Molly, veterans of the original Order of the Phoenix, drawing their strength from parental love, they don’t even hesitate. They grab Harry and Draco and Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Fred and George and Percy and they shove them into the nearest shop.

And the kids are all huddled together, Percy and the twins standing in front of the younger ones, and it’s Ron who manages to whisper, “What’s Malfoy doing here?” Before Hermione stomps on his foot.

And the duel!

The duel is fantastic.

Arthur and Molly verses Lucius.

Just close your eyes and imagine.

And soon Arthur is able to summon other Ministry workers. Including a strange looking man with a strange eye, a man whose skin is slightly darker than Hermione’s, and a girl with bright pink hair who is barely older than Percy.

The battle’s over before it even begins. These strange new people grab Lucius and Apparate away and of course he’ll buy himself out of trouble in no time but at least the immediate threat is gone.

Gilderoy Lockhart timidly steps out and squeaks that it’s a shame that he wasn’t there to stop the duel, that he knew just the hex that could have finished it.

The crowd falls into the streets, praising Arthur and Molly who are quite flustered by all of the attention. Fred and George are clapping their parents on their back, doing a sort of chant. Ron is bragging about how he managed to get a shot in (he hadn’t). Percy is excitedly talking to his father about the legal procedures that Lucius will face. Ginny and Hermione are going around, collecting all of the school supplies that they dropped. Ginny finds a rather unusual book but she dismisses it as something that her parents bought and stuffs it into her bag.

And Harry and Draco. Harry and Draco are staring at one another, not saying a word but having a conversation nonetheless.

Molly finally says that they ought to get back to the Burrow, away from this post-battle excitement. The kids all groan but she and Arthur push them back to the Leaky Cauldron so that they can use the Floo. Draco shuffles along, not knowing where else to go. It’s not until Molly gestures towards the fireplace with a smile that he realizes that his life is about to change.

From there…well…I’ll let you think of the possibilities…

I’m sorry but i need the 200k word fanfic on my desk by this evening. Them’s the breaks, i didn’t make the rules, you know.

where.is.the.damn.fan.FIC.GMODSHDODNSO

https://archiveofourown.org/series/959625

I generally don’t read much Harry/Draco, but I’m a sucker for a great what if? AU, and this is a really awesome idea, so I’m gonna give it a go. 🙂

copperbadge:

Well, remember, the Hulk as an experiment in re-creating the super-soldier is very recent — I’d have to check with Mage for the precise date but I believe it only dates to the Ed Norton Hulk film. But to make it easy, let’s stick with MCU for now and ignore the comics, because in MCU Hulk was an attempt to re-create the Super Soldier Serum, though Bruce Banner wasn’t apparently aware of that.

I don’t think we’d see the Hulk sooner, at least in America, but the why of that is a complicated one.

If Erskine had lived, the Serum formula would have been in his control, which I don’t think was an accident; Erskine came from Nazi-controlled Germany and he presumably had a very healthy paranoia about authority. Even if the US had no plans to kill him, he knew that they wouldn’t dare think about it so long as he was the only one who knew the formula. It also meant he could exercise the same rigorous quality control on later test subjects that he did when choosing Steve. Phillips, for all his likeable qualities, was a military man in wartime and like most of the people he represented, he wanted the biggest, dumbest asshole to get the treatment — if Erskine didn’t control who got it, then the Army would start shoving men like Gilmore Hodge into the Sarcophagus of Pretty. And as we know, in the Sarcophagus of Pretty, good gets better, and bad gets worse. So you either get a lot of indestructible bullies, or you get a lot of dead ones. Erskine won’t have that.

So you have Erskine who is willing to make super soldiers but who is not going to unless they pass his personal inspection. The government’s still getting its soldiers, even if it’s not getting them super fast. Maybe they want more than Erskine is willing to give, but a bureaucracy at rest tends to stay at rest; as long as Erksine’s willing to play ball, it’s unlikely that anyone but a psychotic would push for parallel experimentation just so they could get more soldiers, and highly unlikely it would get funding.

There was a fanfic once, I wish I could remember where, that had one character talking about how it was a good thing Erksine died, because then the genetic arms race would have kicked into high gear, and you’d get armies of Super Soldiers running around fucking shit up. Another character pointed out that no — if personality affects how one reacts to the Serum, then what you get for candidates are people like Steve Rogers — people who will not use their power for personal gain, who will not blindly follow orders, and who will not stand to see the powerful dominate the weak. So what you end up with are a bunch of rational, thoughtful, stridently anti-authoritarian and nearly indestructible men who are trained to work well together and collaborate to achieve their goals. I can’t think the military would want too many of them.

If we did see a Hulk, I don’t think it would be an American one; I think it would be the product of Russia, post-war, trying to break the cold war stalemate by producing its own super soldiers with partial information taken from spies in America.

A literal Red Hulk, if you will.