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Post by Ethan Hunter Potter on Oct 20, 2016 14:12:43 GMT -5
The last few months had been some of the longest in his life, but they had also brought him back to reality in a way he hadn’t believed was possible. Somehow, after a couple of years of getting worse and worse on drugs, he had finally managed to overcome it. Granted, being kidnapped by a mad man and forced to detox over the two week period he had been held captive definitely played it’s part – though to be honest a lot of that time was a blur, it all ran together – but vivid memories of pain, the pained screams of others and that insane laugh and that creepy smile of Cato Blackwell’s – it was like a horrible nightmare he almost didn’t escape from.
Since then, it’s been nothing but a constant battle in his mind – trying desperately to go back to the drug-filled, care-free lifestyle he had been so used to, but being forced by – his conscience? Some need to be a hero? Insanity induced during his time held prisoner? Whatever it was, it had turned his perspective around – he needed to be clear headed again – he was a genius after all, and he was kidnapped so easily, all because his mind was clouded by numerous drugs, on top of alcohol and anything he could get his hands on really. He absolutely wasn’t going to let that happen again.
After the first successful meeting he was able to pull together for the newly formed Dumbledore’s Army, he set the next meeting a few weeks out – giving him time to let his body go through the sick feeling of quitting everything, all over again. It was now almost two weeks out – and the only things he had done were smoke cigarettes and a joint here and there to relax, or when his still healing shoulder and arm were acting up– and finally he was starting to look more like himself again, healthier again.
To his surprise, it actually felt refreshing to have his mind back again – in a not-constantly-intoxicated state he had been able to think about a lot of things. For one, he kept going back to the night he had spent with Ariana Zabini – they saw each other in classes, but their eyes hardly ever met. In all honesty, he was planning to go to a party – temptation of pills and other drugs around him or not – just in hopes of having a few drinks with her once again. She was one of the only people he had met who seemed to understand him – and she hadn’t entirely given in that night either, and he couldn’t get her off his brain for long at a time.
Of course, with his mind free for the first time in almost a year, he had his focus in many places – and aside from the sexy Slytherin girl he hoped to see more of, he was also making plans for moving forward with Dumbledore’s Army. He had a notebook filled with nothing but different defensive spells that they were only being taught “in theory” during classes – and ones they were supposed to have learned but never did – he was determined that if a fight ever came to Hogwarts again, there would be students prepared for it.
When he wasn’t working on stuff for Dumbledore’s Army he was mostly holed up in the Room of Requirement anyway, to smoke as he worked on his school work – which he had finally caught up on after his time captive and the month in St. Mungo’s afterward. However, after so much time healing up, he was really itching to get back to Quidditch – the only thing that could truly take his mind off of everything – and unfortunately with how severe his injuries were, he was still a month away from taking his place back as Captain of the team and it was driving him crazy.
Today, when he finished up his last paper for the week, he leaned back on the couch in his private oasis of a room that the Room of Requirement provided and decided a month away from being cleared to fly, didn’t mean he was still banned from getting back into shape. He massaged his sore left shoulder some and then gathered up his things, then making his way back to Gryffindor tower to change into a pair of gym shorts, a t-shirt and running shoes – he stuck his wand in his pocket and headed out to the grounds.
It had been quite some time since Ethan had gone for a proper run – at first it was his recently broken leg that stopped him – then it was feeling sick from quitting the pills all over again – but now he was finally starting to feel like himself and he wanted to keep that feeling up. He started at a jog when he left the main entrance of the castle, sprinting by the time he reached the lake – he ran around the lake once and expected himself to feel tired – but the adrenaline was pumping and he felt a rush from the quick movement, so he kept it up.
Soon enough, Ethan had run around the lake once more, then slowed to a jog again, this time headed down past the forest and into Hogsmeade. The village was relatively quiet today and to his liking not many people took notice of him. It was a nice change – when he first returned to school, after the papers ran his story for weeks, it was all eyes on him and he couldn’t stand it. Everyone wanted to ask him something, but no one was brave enough to come out and say it.
Finally starting to feel tired, Ethan slowed to a walk just past the Shreiking Shack, and wandering all the way to the practically abandoned playground at the edge of the small village. When he had first turned thirteen, this had been his favorite spot in the whole village – he had a lot of memories here, some good and some he wished he could forget. Panting and sweating now, Ethan plopped down in the grass and took his t-shirt off, scars from his recent encounter with Blackwell still clearly visible on his back, chest and looking particularly nasty on his shoulder and arm.
Before the incident, he probably wouldn’t have even bothered putting on a shirt to run – but now the scars brought more attention than he wanted. At this point however, he figured he was far enough from the school and the village that he would likely be alone, and so he wasn’t going to worry about it for once. Still panting, he wiped his face with the balled up shirt, and sat there in the grass, simply taking in the cool spring air and letting his mind wander once again.
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Post by Albus Severus Potter on Oct 25, 2016 14:18:39 GMT -5
Albus Severus Potter had no idea how to help his son after the incident. Albus felt like it was his fault that Ethan had been taken. Cato had explained to him in a very recent letter that he still hadn’t shared with no one that it was because of him that he had took Ethan but he wouldn’t say why. Albus had sat in his office for most of the night, all night staring at the letter. He couldn’t stop thinking of it. Maybe if he hadn’t been who he was he could have kept Ethan safe better. Maybe he should tell Ethan the truth, about his past. He never told his kids who he had been but they would find out eventually. The children of the terrible Albus Potter. He should just do what Sirius told him before and come clean with everything, especially now after everything Ethan had been through. He had visited Ethan as much as possible before he was released from St. Mungos. He just didn’t know when the time was right to tell his son about his past. He didn’t tell his wife though that he was going to tell Ethan because he didn’t want her stopping him in case she didn’t want Ethan to know. He knew that Ethan needed to after everything and if what Sirius was telling him was right he had to talk Ethan out of starting the DA and getting himself killed. He couldn’t let that happen. He went to the school to find his son. He first apparated to Hogsmead and when he was passing by the playground he saw his son. A frown came across his face as he saw the scars that covered his son now. Albus could remember a time that he used to do that to people, including his own family. He had done that to his wife even. She had a scar on her face that he had put there one time when he had her holed up in a room in the castle. He was brought back to that day, to her screams, to everything he had done to her. The other cuts on her had heal but the one on her face didn’t, it was a reminder to Albus of everything he had done and that he couldn’t get away from it. He walked over to his son, who was sitting on the ground. Albus walked with a cane, ever since an incident with his leg during a war he started. He sat down next to Ethan stretching his leg out the best he could and rubbed it for a few minutes. He sat his cane to the side and started at the ground. Pure silence. How had he gotten here with his son? His own flesh and blood? It was his fault. He could have done better. He was busy repairing his image to the wizarding world so his kids could grow up in a world they wouldn’t have to worry about having his name to them that he forgot about them at some point. Finally, Albus spoke. It was hush and his voice was hoarse from the lack of sleep and saying anything for a whole day and a half basically. I am sorry Ethan he said as he looked at his son. Words: 553 Tagged: Ethan Hunter Potter
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Post by Ethan Hunter Potter on Oct 26, 2016 1:40:32 GMT -5
Panting from running so far and so hard after not having done so in months, Ethan sat there in the grass, taking in as much air as his lungs would allow – never again would he take little things for granted, not even something like being able to breathe – there had been times in that dungeon with Blackwell when he had been gasping for breath, unable to get even one full breath, whatever spell had done that it had been terrifying the first couple of times – then he learned the faster he passed out, the sooner Blackwell would release the spell – sometimes he had even pretended to pass out just so it would stop – at least at first.
It was quiet today, nothing but the sound of the wind rustling leaves in the trees and the occasional squirrel or rabbit making noises or birds chirping – it was relaxing and he couldn’t help but be glad he had decided to come out for this run. However, that feeling was immediately ruined when he heard the loud popping sound nearby, indicating that someone had apparated to the small wizarding village. Once upon a time he may have ignored the sound – but now he had a slightly more paranoid side and he looked over his shoulder really quick, just long enough to catch a glance at whoever it was.
Then he groaned softly seeing his father headed up the street to the village. Perhaps he would get lucky, and his dad was merely here to get something from the village – but he had a feeling that wasn’t what was going on here. His father had been far more persistent on seeing him than he had in years – in and out of his hospital room at St. Mungo’s more than he had seen him in probably the last year before that – though part of that was because for a while Ethan had been avoiding his father all together.
His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the sound of his dad’s footsteps and the cane hitting the ground with every other step growing closer to him – he never turned to acknowledge his father as he came and sat in the grass next to him, stretching out his bad leg. Unconsciously, Ethan moved just slightly, putting the tiniest bit more distance between the two of them – he had a feeling his Uncle Sirius had figured out his plans for reviving Dumbledore’s Army and told his dad – who wanted to talk him out of it – and that just wasn’t going to happen.
Silence filled the air around them – the wind had even died down some, adding to the silence as though the world knew the tension between the young man and his father sitting on that playground. Whatever it was his dad had come here to say, he hoped he would just say it soon, so he could get on with his day. Then suddenly, his father finally spoke, softly, as though he hadn’t spoken to anyone in days. “I am sorry, Ethan.” he said. Ethan looked to his father and shook his head, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” he told him – and it was truly how he felt.
He wouldn’t blame his father for what happened to him – if he had been more alert, more clearheaded and not so focused on drugs then he would never have been taken in the first place. In his eyes, it was his screw up that had cost him months of his life and nothing else. Sighing, eyes still locked on his fathers, he said “If all you’ve come to do is apologize again, then you’re wasting your time, okay?”
Why had he decided to come up to the school today of all days – the one day he had decided to do something to relax and actually succeeded, now interrupted because his dad felt the need to apologize again? It was just insane, it was like his father had some sort of “Ethan’s enjoying himself” sense that makes him feel his presence is required, when he would much rather be alone with his thoughts.
Ethan’s eyes went from his father’s gaze back to the t-shirt, balled up in his hands, which he had been unconsciously fiddling with the entire time he spoke. It was frustrating – he knew his father was coming from a good place, or at least he hoped – but he just didn’t know the first thing about him, making it impossible for him to talk to him about anything. He put the t-shirt back on, holding his left arm in close while doing so, then he moved a bit further from his dad, but only to stretch, trying to remember to do so more often these days until his muscles were back in shape.
As he pulled his left arm in towards his chest to stretch there was a loud popping sound and he shut his eyes tight in pain for a second and rolled his shoulder back to a relaxed position slowly – he was still pushing it with that shoulder, he knew it. His arm held close to his chest still he let out the breath he had taken in sharply when his shoulder popped, then sighed, reaching into his pocket with his right arm and grabbing his pack of cigarettes, lighting one – the best distraction for pain he had at the moment. He had almost forgotten his dad was there and he looked over again, “So? Was that all you came for or was there something else you needed to talk to me about?” he asked him, then taking a long drag off his cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke between him and his father.
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Post by Albus Severus Potter on Oct 29, 2016 16:52:48 GMT -5
Albus just wanted to take his son into his arms and hold him close to him. He didn’t want to let Ethan hurt more than he had and Albus had finally realized that the more he worked to keep his kids safe and to give them a better life from his name, the worst off it was for them because he wasn’t around. Albus needed to be around for his kids. He had no business missing anything else. He had to tell Ethan about him though. He had to tell all his children more about him when the time came but because of what Ethan went through he had to know now. He had no idea what his son had went through. Ethan had told him a little bit of what happened but he still couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. The guilt of not being there helping him still haunted him. He knew Sirius forced him to stay back, and literally forced him but he had no idea if Ethan even knew that. He wanted nothing more than to go face off against Cato and rescue his son. The pain of that alone was too much for Albus sometimes. He just wished he had a way of telling Ethan that. It was hard to talk to the boy anymore and Albus was never good with feelings. He sat there in silence trying to think of something to say. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” When Ethan said that his son had no idea how wrong he was. “If all you’ve come to do is apologize again, then you’re wasting your time, okay?” “So? Was that all you came for or was there something else you needed to talk to me about?” He had really messed up with his son. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I came to tell you and show you more about me. If you let me he said and with a wave of his wand Albus brought the school’s pensive over to them. They were in a secluded area and wouldn’t be bothered. Sometimes showing is better than telling he said looking at Ethan. He hoped his son would do this and allow him to try to explain why he worked so hard to give them all a better name to follow. It was just so hard to think about that he had to show his son the worst part of his life. Words: 415 Notes: Sorry this sucks but I wanted to get it done before I left for the concert <3 Tagged: Ethan Hunter Potter
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Post by Ethan Hunter Potter on Oct 29, 2016 22:59:00 GMT -5
As he sat there in the grass, watching as his dad sat there next to him, Ethan was trying to figure out what it was that his dad had come here for. It wasn’t simply an apology – there was more to it than that. There was something about the way his father carried himself that always gave him away to Ethan – he could tell when his dad was stressed, angry, sad or upset, just as he could with most people without much effort – but today his father was a mixture of things, and it was the reason behind it that he couldn’t quite seem to figure out.
Ignoring his dad while he stretched for a moment, his sore muscles thanking him for it up until he tried to stretch his left shoulder, which ended painfully. He held his arm in close and lit a cigarette, before remembering that his dad was sitting there as well. Finally Ethan had enough of trying to figure his dad out today – he was looking guilty and upset, or maybe sad, it was hard to tell for some reason. Eventually he asked his dad what he had come here for, telling him that if it was simply to apologize again then he needed to be on his way, before exhaling a cloud of smoke that lingered between them.
I came to tell you and show you more about me. If you let me, his father said to him and Ethan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. When he was young, he had looked up to his father, but never really understood why he had so little time for him and his siblings. As he got older, he had just learned to accept it – and he started to keep to himself more and more. Things like Quidditch and his grades and such he would tell his parents in passing – but they never questioned him about any of it, not even to see any of the reports from school with his test results – they always just trusted what he told them and he took that as they didn’t have an interest, rather than that there was just too many things they have to deal with.
His father summoned the pensive from the school, which to this day was still kept in the headmasters’ office. Ethan had seen it a few times – and had taken one trip inside it with his history professor when he had questions about the legitimacy of their textbooks. Sometimes showing is better than telling, his dad said, his voice finally starting to become slightly less raspy after talking some more. Looking at the pensive, Ethan wondered what it could possibly be that his dad wanted to show him, about himself. However, his curiosity was growing, even if his dad didn’t really want to know about him, perhaps if he got to know his father better, he could understand why.
Ethan is a brilliant individual – and understanding people was something that intrigued him because people did some horrible, horrible things – and yet some did amazing things – he wanted to know what made people the way they are, why they act the way they do and why they do the things they do. However, he found that the more he learned about people the less he tended to like them – which was why he was a very distant individual, with a very cynical outlook on life and a difficulty in trusting anyone.
One of the reasons he loved Quidditch so much, other than the challenge it posed physically, was the fact that it had specific rules – and players abided by those rules. There was a simplicity to it that he absolutely loved. Yet today he found himself veering back into the questions he had for years, about why his father was the way he was, why he seemed so uninterested in the lives of his children – and he was hoping that perhaps this afternoon he would be able to get some insight to that.
Taking another long drag off his cigarette, Ethan looked up at his father finally and nodded, ”Yeah alright, you’ve got my attention.”
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Post by Albus Severus Potter on Dec 12, 2016 0:37:10 GMT -5
Albus knew he needed to figure something out about Ethan. The only way he figured he could do that was to show him his past no matter how hard that might be. He had to fix things between him and his son and hope things weren’t this messed up between him and his other children. Once the pensive arrived to them he put it in a secluded spot so no one would bother it or them once they went in. Albus would say that he was indeed nervous about this, but it was the only way. He had to show his son the worst parts of his life to show him why he wanted everything for Ethan and why he was the way he was. He took a deep breath and with his wand took out a few pieces of his memory placing them into the pensive. They are going to go in order of when they happened okay. So just stay close to me when you go in he said. He sighed and took another breath and dove his head into the water and then he was falling. It was an endless fall, well that was what it felt like until he finally fell into a familiar house. This is where all his trouble started. He saw his thirteen-year-old self and his best friend Scorpius in Draco Malfoy’s study. Albus sighed as he watched his younger self pick up the book he knew he shouldn’t and of course the flash of green light that erupted throughout the room. Albus had shielded Ethan’s eyes so it wouldn’t hurt his eyes too much as it had his the night it happened. Albus watched the night unfold, watched the smoke pour into his body as he stood there helpless to change any events of his past. He didn’t say a word. He knew this was the beginning of the downward spiral that the middle Potter child was about to take in life. All the events in his seventh year, all the tragedy that he would endure, started here. All because he couldn’t listen to a grown up and not open a damn book. We…uhm…should move on Ethan he said. Words: 367 Notes: Sorry this sucks but I wanted to get it done tonight <3 Tagged: Ethan Hunter Potter
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Post by Ethan Hunter Potter on Jan 29, 2018 0:15:33 GMT -5
It was such a frustrating feeling – torn between wanting to tell his dad to just go home, so he could go back to the Room of Requirement and have a drink or smoke a joint and being curious about why his dad had come here to talk to him today. In the end, his curiosity got the better of him when his dad summoned the pensieve from the school – that wasn’t quite what Ethan had been expecting, and so it caught his attention. Exhaling smoke that’s exactly what he told his dad and then he watched as his dad got up and went to put the pensieve somewhere it and they would be safe – Ethan got up and followed. He watched as his father tapped his wand to his temple, extracting pieces of his memory, wispy silver threads that attached to the end of his wand until he dropped them in the basin.
“They are going to go in order of when they happened okay. So just stay close to me when you go in,” his dad said before diving his head into the pensieve. Cigarette still between his lips, Ethan followed suit, dropping face first into the basin, followed by the familiar experience of falling for what felt like ages before his feet finally met a solid surface again. He took his cigarette back in his fingers, exhaling another cloud of grey smoke as he looked around at the house they were in. He saw what he recognized from pictures at his grandparents’ house as a teenage version of his dad – and someone who must have been a friend of his who seemed somewhat familiar.
They watched as the night played out, his father picking up a book that he clearly shouldn’t have – and a flash of violently bright green light flared from the book. When his dad attempted to shield his eyes he pushed his fathers hand away, “It’s fine, I want to see what’s going on,” he said softly, taking another drag off his cigarette. They watched smoke pour out of the teenage Albus’s body – and Ethan was trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. It was clearly some form of ancient and dark magic – but what would come of this? What did this have to do with the way his dad was today? It seemed this first memory was creating more questions for him than it was answering. He watched intently, not saying a word, and then things started to fade away.
“We…uhm…should move on Ethan,” he heard his dad say, and Ethan nodded, taking the final drag off his cigarette and putting it out on the bottom of his shoe. He stuffed the butt in the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and simply nodded that he was ready to move on to the next memory, hoping that maybe this next one would start to answer some of his questions.
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