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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

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The Princess & The Playboy (Part 5)

Summary: While meeting Dean's parents went smoothly, the reader's may be a different story. Meanwhile, Dean confides in Eric he knows a secret of his that sheds light on Eric's past actions and the boys set their plan in action...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: 👀

_________

Dean POV

I woke with a jerk, eyes flashing open as a small surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I sighed, closing my eyes as glimpses of a nightmare ran through my mind. I was honestly surprised at how long I’d gone without one.

I wondered if Y/N ever had that recurring dream about not being able to get to Max in time like I did with Sam. I turned in bed, scooting closer, searching for her warm body to curl up against. When my arm reached out to find her though, all I discovered were cold sheets. My eyes popped open again, the clock on her nightstand showing it was almost six in the morning.

I was due to get up in half an hour but Y/N could sleep in. Given how she’d told me just last week she was a night owl, my thoughts wandered to not so great places.

Either she was missing or she was so stressed about her parents visit she was losing sleep over it. The fact she lived in fucking Fort Knox led me to believe it was the later.

I stretched in bed before wandering over to the closet, smiling at the previously empty side. I stayed over most every night, even if the most intimate thing we did was a cuddle. We hadn’t officially said I had a drawer or anything like that but I had a space in the closet for some personal items. Mostly it was fresh underwear and socks but Y/N had hung up a few things that hadn’t belonged to me. Just things she thought it’d be “nice to have” around.

Including a dope ass robe that looked way too freaking comfy on the chilly morning. I threw it on and wrapped my arms around myself, humming as the fleece warmed my cool skin. I wasn’t exactly a robe guy and suspected this thing cost more than some people’s rent, but it did feel damn good.

I trudged through the dark house, ears perking up as I made my way towards her home gym. Piano notes filled the air and I saw light spilling through a cracked door, a soft melody breaking through the quiet.

“Endless,” breathed out Y/N, smashing her fingers against the keys, her eyes closed, face contorting like she didn’t like that sound. “Endless,” she sang softly again, moving her fingers to a lower note, her face less critical.

I didn’t want to disturb her and tried to close the door. Unfortunately, it was enough to prick her spidey senses because next thing I knew, a hardcover notebook was smacking me in the forehead.

“Oh my god!” she gasped, covering her hands with her face as she shot up. I rubbed my temple and picked up her papers, Y/N moving my hand away before I even straightened up. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” She guided me to the couch in what looked like a studio, taking off quickly and returning in less then thirty seconds with a small first aid kit. “I’m fine, I swear.”

She ignored me, dabbing a cotton ball with alcohol before lighting pressing it against the cut. I winced, Y/N frowning as she found a butterfly bandage and stuck it on.

“I am fine,” I said again, taking hold of her cheeks, smiling sleepily before pecking a light kiss on her lips. “I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. I shook my head, pulling her to sit in my lap.

“I’m not. You’re kind of a badass. Plus with an arm like that I’m thinking we get you in as backup QB. If you ever got sick of singing, I got a job lined up for ya.” She didn’t smile like she usually did when I teased her though. “What’s wrong? It’s one little bump is all. No biggie.”

“I woke you up early and you need your sleep and now I’m sure you have a headache on top of that and I have my stupid parents coming in this afternoon and you’re not going to be to stay over like normal because god knows what they’ll say and I’m so behind on the next album already and-”

I put my hand over her mouth to stop her, Y/N blinking as tears welled up in her eyes. Fuck, she ripped my heart out when I saw her like that.

“Listen, listen,” I shushed her, Y/N wearily watching me. “I am fine and I’ll tell you if I’m not. You are exhausted, honey. You have not caught up from when you were on tour for half the freaking year. I want you to go back to bed and I’ll talk to Eric, make sure your morning gets cleared. All I want you to do is get some sleep. Someone from your team can grab your parents and entertain them until tonight where I will come over to have dinner with you and then I will stay over like always. You’re not going to worry about any other shit. Promise?”

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around me in a deep hug. “My parents stress me out whenever they visit. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t say sorry,” I said, pressing my lips to her ear. “I just want you to get some sleep. Now do you promise?”

“Promise,” she mumbled, burying her face in my neck. She sighed softly and it was only a few beats later I realized her breathing had evened out, fast asleep. My girl really was at the end of her rope. As gently as I could, I carried her out and upstairs, tucking her into bed before changing. Downstairs, I filled up my thermos with coffee and made Y/N some pancakes she could reheat for lunch later.

“Good morning,” said Eric quietly. I glanced left, his body drenched in sweat, most likely from the gym. “You’re up early a lot.”

“My day starts at eight on the dot, sometimes sooner. I get fined if I’m late,” I said, taking a mug from beside the sink and filling it up for him.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a long sip. “You guys get Tuesdays off, right?”

“Yeah but I normally work it and review game film. Gotta set a good example for the team.” I wrapped up the pancakes on a plate, putting a sticky note on top. “I turned off Y/N’s phone. She needs to catch up on sleep. I know she’s busy but please let her sleep late today and cancel any morning meetings she has. And make sure her parents stay away until this evening. She’s worried about them and I told her I’d be here when they get here.”

“Can do.” I nodded, washing up the pan and taking another sip of coffee. “Dean.”

I turned around from the sink, Eric leaned back against the counter. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry again for how I treated you before. Y/N’s always deserved someone good. I’m glad she finally has that with you.”

“Thank you,” I said, holding out my hand to him. Eric shook it, a quiet beat passing. “Do you think you and Sloane have a chance of working things out?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t even want her forgiveness. I just want her to know my reasoning and that I regret it. I just need her to know that I never thought she was weak or incapable and especially that I didn’t string her along. I always loved her. Even if I fucked it up for good.”

“I’m no relationship expert but why didn’t you go to her in the hospital?” I asked, Eric taking a seat at the island with a sigh. “Like, is there any possible reason you could tell Sloane about why you left?”

“You blamed yourself for your brother’s abduction when there logically was no reason to. For years you did.” He stared me down and nodded. “Now imagine that feeling of guilt but you know you fucked up. The intel was bad and you were distracted and imagine Sam or Y/N were taken, beat to hell, every inch of skin battered. And it was 100% your fault. Your job was to protect them and you screwed up. Would you be able to walk in that room and sit there, your mistake staring right back at you?”

“Were you abused as a kid?” Eric’s eyebrows shot up fast before his jaw clenched.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” he snapped.

“Survivors often blame things out of their control on themselves because they’ve been conditioned to,” I said, raising my chin. Eric closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

“You did a background check on me,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t use Sloane for it if it makes you feel better. No one knows except me and I plan on it staying that way. I wanted to know who the fuck you were was all.” Eric nodded, inhaling sharply. “Does Sloane know about your dad?”

“No and it doesn’t matter. I screwed up-”

“You probably ran away because you’re conditioned-”

“I’m a fucking solider, Winchester. My sack of shit father has been dead and gone for a very long time. I did not run away from Sloane because of some childhood trauma crap. I was a shitty person. Case closed.”

I stepped closer, looking down at him with a hard face. “Y/N and I were barely adults when we got our trauma and it’s still inside us. Don’t you fucking dare try and say it had no effect because it did. It made you a protector. It also made you expect Sloane to do or say awful things to you when you did go in that room. You’re smart enough to know I’m right.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Eric grit out, shooting daggers at me. “I wasn’t there when she needed me and that’s that.”

“Do you know why Y/N let me in? Because I talked to her, because I was vulnerable. Big bad bodyguard and you’re too scared to tell the girl you love all your secrets.”

“So what? I tell her and nothing changes so what’s the fucking point? I still hurt her.” I grasped his shoulder, shaking my head at him.

“Buddy, we both love two badass strong women. You’re right, Sloane could tell you to fuck off. Or she can finally understand and maybe forgive you. A guy like you isn’t the bad guy, no matter how much you tell yourself.”

Eric lowered his head, his shoulders rising when he breathed deeply. “I can’t. I’ve never told anyone. Shit, my own sister doesn’t even know.”

“Well you can practice with me if you ever decide you do want to,” I said, patting his back. “Take care of Y/N for me today.”

He hummed, Sloane waiting out front by my SUV when I left.

“What are you doing here so early?” I asked. Sloane rubbed her eye, opening the car door.

“I was working on understanding Y/N’s security protocols,” she said, still rubbing her eye.

“At six in the morning?”

“I wake up early. Is that a crime?” she snapped, her eyes red rimmed. I glanced back at the house, Sloane glaring at me. “What?”

“You overheard me talking to him, didn’t you.” She kept my gaze, only a slight tick of her jaw giving her away. “You’re in jeans and a t-shirt today.”

“So what?”

“So maybe your outfit choice doesn’t have to be the only change you make. You could talk to him-“

Sloane held up a hand. “I am not talking about this with anyone, including you. Understand?”

“And the world thinks I’m the emotionally immature one around here,” I mumbled, sliding into the passenger seat. Sloane slammed the door shut and I winced. I could only hope the rest of the day turned around.

Late Afternoon

“Winchester.” I blinked my eyes, noticing the conference room was mostly cleared out. Benny waited by the door as I grabbed my playbook and quickly followed after. “You alright, man?”

“Yeah. Just need to get some sleep,” I yawned, my phone buzzing in my pocket. My agent was having a field day today, fending off offers left and right from companies wanting to capitalize on my recent popularity. Thankfully Brad was a good guy and he knew what I was and wasn’t willing to endorse.

And any mention of Y/N meant they got an automatic rejection. No questions asked. I wasn’t about to profit off the fact people knew she was my girlfriend.

My phone buzzed again and I reached into my pocket, surprised to see Eric calling. “Uh, hey. What’s up?”

“What time do you get done with work?” Eric asked. I shrugged, waving for Benny to go on ahead of me back to the locker room.

“About an hour. Why?” Eric sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“Listen.” The phone got quiet for a moment, faint footsteps in the background. But then I heard it. Heard it loud and clear.

“Liars and cheats and oh you dirty, dirty sneaks! Like I’m the stain on your perfect life making it bleak!” Y/N sang loudly through the phone, her voice raw while her fingers slammed piano keys.

The noise dissipated, Eric clearing his throat. “Good news, she wrote a song for her record this morning. Bad news, her parents showed up early on their own and they had a massive blowout. I guess they saw the cake you guys made for Max and freaked.”

“...You wouldn’t call me with this unless you were concerned, would you.”

“Girl’s always used music to process her feelings. But she’s sort of bawling in there and I’ve promised in the past to not interfere when it comes to her parents.” I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. “She’d rip my head off and probably yours if we went in there and talked to her. She’ll either be calmer in an hour or be halfway through another song.”

“I’ll be there in forty five,” I said, heading for the locker room. “Don’t tell her.”

I could feel his hesitancy on the other end. “Did you say not to tell her you’re coming over?”

“Yeah. Let her stay in her studio. I need to talk to her parents. Alone.” Eric was silent for a beat and then another. “Tell me the truth, buddy. Does Y/N exaggerate about her folks or do they say some fucked up shit to her sometimes?”

Eric breathed heavy, a door closing, the sounds of the outdoors surrounding him. “They already don’t like you. Her mom called you a man whore and her dad flipped that she wore your jersey the other night. So I guess you got nothing to lose.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they like me. But they will change their act if they want to be part of their daughter’s life. They can’t hurt her like that everytime she sees them.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, kid,” said Eric, opening a car door. “I’ll pick you up at the stadium.”

“I distinctly recall you hating my guts.” Eric scoffed, a sliver of a smile on my face. “Oh, I forgot. You loved me from the start, right?”

“Don’t push it, Winchester,” he said. “Get back to work. I’ll see you in a few.”

One hour later I was bouncing my knee in the passenger seat of my truck, Eric pulling into Y/N’s driveway. If my conversation with him over the past twenty minutes was anything to go by, Y/N had been far too kind regarding her parents.

They’d blamed her for Max’s kidnapping. Said it straight to her fucking face when she was eighteen years old. She was a kid and they told her it was her fault. Seven years later they told her they wished she was the one that was dead and they were burying. Called her a brat and diva for being upset on the day of Max’s funeral. Blamed her for paparazzi invading their moment. Blamed her when she tried to talk about Max or hear stories from when they were kids, told her not to speak his name, not when she screwed up his life. The day they “buried” her brother, their relationship had been done for good. They had no problem taking her money though, playing the warm set of parents when they needed to.

Y/N was not about to be forced to hide in her own home just to get away from people who clearly didn’t give a rats ass about her.

A strong hand gripped my shirt collar as Eric parked, my gaze shooting over my shoulder.

“Hey. I fucked up because I was too protective of Sloane. I don’t want that to happen to you,” he said. I nodded, Eric still leery. “She still loves them, Dean.”

“I know. And if she hates me for what I’m about to do, then she hates me. But her parents need a wake up call and I’ll be the bad guy. Like you said, they already hate me so no harm no foul.”

“They’ve been by the pool,” said Eric, dropping his hand. I slid out and gave a nod to a few of the security guys in the shack I recognized. I walked around the side of the house, nerves flaring up like this was a freaking super bowl for some reason. Sure, I’d like it if Y/N’s parents were friendly and she had a good relationship.

But she didn’t deserve their shit. I just hoped it didn’t turn into a screaming match immediately.

I inhaled slowly as I found the older couple relaxing under the umbrella on the patio.

“Hi, I’m Dean Winchester,” I said as I approached, both their heads turning toward me. “Y/N’s boyfriend. I think the three of us need to talk.”

“Excuse me son but I don’t think we have anything to discuss aside from the fact you're not the kind of man we want dating our daughter,” said her father. I sat down in an open chair at the table, leaning forward with a smile.

“See that’s funny. You think you have a right to have any say in your daughter’s love life. Regardless of the fact the media portrays me as someone I’m not or that your daughter is thirty two years old, you think you have the right based on what? That she’s your flesh and blood? As if you gave an actual shit about her. It’s just us, no need to pretend.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” said her mom, voice on the edge of something dangerous I didn’t like. “Who the fuck are you to say that crap? Of course we love Y/N-”

“There you go being funny again,” I said, narrowing my eyes, looking between them both. “I would never blame my daughter for something that wasn’t her motherfucking fault. I wouldn’t wish her fucking dead or call her names or forbid her from speaking of her missing brother. I certainly wouldn’t snap at her for making a cake to celebrate her brother. If you two really hate Y/N that much, just stay the fuck away. I’m sure she’ll keep giving you as much money as you ask for.”

To my surprise, they didn’t get angry. Y/N’s mom simply stood and wandered off towards the pool, holding a hand over her mouth. Meanwhile, her father closed his eyes, lowering his head.

“At least you have the decency to not lie about it,” I said. “You people are fucking disgusting to come into your daughter’s life like nothing’s wrong when you’ve hurt her as much as those kidnappers did. He was her little brother. She knows she was late to pick him up. You have no idea how hard she’s working to start to feel like it was simply something out of her control.”

They were both silent, still not looking at me.

“Where the hell were you two? Why wasn’t it your responsibility? Why not the parents of Max’s friend? The police? The damn kidnappers? Why’d it fall on the shoulders of an eighteen year old girl? Because you’re weak people, that’s why. It’s why you keep blaming her. You have no idea how lucky you are she’s strong. Telling her you wished it was her in the ground? She might have followed up on that, you morons. She deserves to be able to remember Max openly. She deserves to believe he’s still out there somewhere, even if you don’t. She deserves parents better than you two. I’m only sorry I wasn’t here sooner to say it to your faces.”

I stood up and headed for the back door, her mom making a sort of hiccup sound.

“We never forgave her for not picking Max up on time,” she whispered, lowering her head. “When she gets…I get so angry at her when she wants to bring him up.”

“So much of our lives changed because she wanted to sing. Our privacy. People always offering fake tips about Max. It hurts so much and we keep blaming Y/N for that pain,” said her dad. “We know we shouldn’t but we don’t know how to stop.”

“Try some fucking therapy,” said Eric, walking around the near side of the house, my eyes darting to his. “This is your official notice. You are both banned from this property and contacting Y/N until further notice. Pack up your things and you will be escorted to your hotel.”

I stared at him wide eyed, Eric raising his chin, ignoring me.

“Now!” he barked. Y/N’s father rose slowly, something steely about him.

“My daughter ask you to do that? Because I’m not leaving without her wanting me gone,” he said. Eric stepped closer, getting in his face.

“My job is to protect Y/N from threats and I am sick of you two coming in here every year and fucking breaking her heart. Get some damn therapy and deal with your shit or never, I mean never, fucking contact her again. You want something, you deal with me. Now get the fuck out.”

Roughly five minutes later Eric and I watched them both be driven down the driveway, my eyes still stuck on him.

“Keep staring like that Winchester and I’ll think you have a crush,” said Eric, giving a satisfied nod when the gate closed again.

“You said you’re not supposed to interfere with her parents.” Eric shrugged, giving me a smirk.

“She wants to fire me, she can. But those assholes send her spiraling and I’m sick of standing there and watching it. Kiddo was a fucking shell for months after what happened the day of the funeral.”

“I thought I said I had it handled.” Eric spun around and headed back for the house. “Eric.”

“Just cause you can do something on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” he said, opening the door, holding it open. I slid past him into the foyer, Eric patting my shoulder. “Go take care of her. I’ll face the music later.”

“Doesn’t seem your style to hide,” I said, Eric spinning back around to head out, pausing in the doorway.

“I have an appointment…therapy,” he said quietly. “Probably going to be a waste of time.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Eric shrugged. “I’ll put in a good word with the boss for you.”

“Just focus on taking care of her. I can wait,” he said, leaving and pulling the door shut. I closed my eyes and ditched my bag by the base of the stairs, walking quietly down to the studio.

I knocked once, poking my head inside, frowning as I found the room silent.

And Y/N nowhere in sight.

I flinched when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, a small body hugging me tight. “Y/N, we should-”

“The team in the shack texted I should watch the security video in the back. I heard the whole thing.” Her head burrowed between my shoulder blades, squeezing me hard. Soft, mumbled cries filled the air, my heart aching for her. Slowly, I turned in her embrace, her face hiding away in my chest when I came to face her. I gently shushed her, one arm around her back, one around her shoulders as I tucked her head under my chin.

“I’m sorry I upset you but I’m not sorry I set them straight. You don’t have to put up with people that won’t take accountability for their actions. So be mad with me and Eric but we saw how much it hurt you. We don’t regret it. The only-”

“You think I’m mad at you guys?” she whispered, raising her head, puffy, red rimmed eyes staring back. A quiet laugh slipped past her delicious lips, her head shaking as she laughed harder. “You’re such a goof, Winchester. That was…that was what they needed to hear. Thank you for saying it when I couldn’t.”

“Maybe they’ll get some help for themselves and things can get better,” I said, even if I didn’t believe they would. I’d happily be proven wrong but I wasn’t counting on it. Y/N shrugged, not seeming to have faith in the idea herself. “Can you play me something?”

“I just wrote two new ones,” she said, catching my head shake. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Nothing particular. Just want to sit and listen to you poke around if that’s alright.” She smiled, taking my hand and leading me inside. She left me at the couch and wandered to the piano bench, rolling her shoulders with a heavy inhale.

“You like rock and grunge,” she said, tapping a key, her head cocked as she did it over and over. “Think I could pull off a few alt rock songs?”

“You can do whatever the hell you want to, sweetheart. Pretty sure you could throw bagpipes in a song and make it go number one.” I caught her smile as her fingers started to dance, hips starting to sway in her seat.

“Normally I come up with music before the lyrics,” she said, something rhythmic and heavy in the air. “You know people think because I’m the pop princess that’s all I listen to. Never would think Metallica inspired a good number of songs on the last album.”

“You partial to Zeppelin?” I asked, her smirk stronger, the puffiness around her eyes going down.

“Everyone loves Stairway and for good reason but I’m a Kashmir girl,” she said, my eyebrows raising. “Surprised?”

“No. Think I fell in love with you a little more is all,” I chuckled, getting up and taking a seat on the edge of the piano bench, watching her fingers move quickly, a hint of both songs coming through. “I am sorry about your parents, sweetheart. I wish things were different.”

“Me too,” she said, flurrying her fingers before abruptly pulling back. “But I won’t ever completely forgive myself for Max as long as they’re in my life. At least how they are right now. S’like Sloane said, even if you're strong, sometimes you want someone else to be strong for you.”

She bumped my shoulder, a coy smile sneaking onto her face. My hand found hers, clasping them together. “We take turns and it’ll work out how it’s supposed to.”

Her head rested on my shoulder, nodding once. “I don’t want to be sad anymore today. Do you want to go out to dinner?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” I said, kissing her temple. “People will probably take pictures of us though.”

“I really don’t care anymore,” she said, squeezing my hand. “If I want to go out with my boyfriend, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“That’s my girl.”

Sam POV

“Eek! Y/N and Dean went out! In public!” squealed Cecilia from the kitchen island, showing her phone to Sebastian’s event planner. The woman in her mid-thirties gave the phone a passing glance, probably wishing she could plan a party for one of them instead of fucking Seb.

He was even more of a dick whenever it got to close to him hosting one of his stupid ass parties at the house.

But the piece of shit’s desire to mingle with the rich and famous on a regular basis meant Max and I had a real shot at our plan working. I worked at the end of the island, near the open planner with a tentative guest list, my back blocking the camera.

All I had to do was slip the piece of paper from my pocket into the planner and hope the event planner added Y/N and Dean to the list without too much thought.

Without getting caught of course.

And assume that the super detailed planner lady would just go ahead and invite two of the most popular people on the planet right now willy nilly.

That was all assuming Max didn’t get caught in his part of the plan. Or too hurt. Or dead.

Shit, we really were laying it on the line for this one.

A few moments later, we all heard the loud thud, our heads snapping towards the front of the house. I moved fast, taking the split second opportunity to place the paper in the planner. Then I was off the second Max groaned, playing the role of concerned friend.

Sebastian knew how close we were, that we considered ourselves brothers. Even if we were both scared shitless about the consequences of breaking a rule, he knew I’d abandon my “job” duties to go to him if he was hurt. So I rushed through the front hall to where a few security guys were already surrounding a grunting Max on the floor.

“I’m fine,” grit out Max, even though we could all see the growing bruise on his cheek. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to hit his head. He tried to sit up, a few of the security guys urging him to stay down. Ironic considering they were the ones they’d kill us if we ever got caught.

“What the fuck��” said Seb, coming out of his office, staring at the scene before him.

“He fell down the stairs, boss,” said a guard, Max brushing the guy off and sitting up, wincing a bit.

“I said I’m fine,” said Max, his movements proving that was a lie. He was hurt. Hopefully just bumps and bruises. But that was key.

If we wanted a believable story, one of us had to get fucked up in the process. And unfortunately for Max, he was beyond shitty at rock papers scissors and had to take the fall. Literally.

“He needs to rest,” I said, forcing my way into the crowd, helping Max to his feet with another wince. I didn’t wait for a response and started taking him towards our room, Seb’s tsk making us both freeze.

“Andy, make sure he’s alright and then Max should rest the remainder of the day. Sam, I trust you can complete all unfinished chores yourself?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” I said, reluctantly letting Andy take my place and help support Max. I watched them disappear down the hall, Seb turning to another guard, Frankie.

“Explain yourself.” The guard stared at Sebastian, his thick swallow heard loud and clear. Sebastian stepped closer, until his nose was jammed right against the young guard’s. “Why the fuck did you punch my house staff in the face after he fell?”

I stared at Frankie, Sebastian smirking when he saw my face.

“His knuckles are scrapped, Sam,” he said, turning back to Sebastian. “Question is why the fuck do you think you can touch my fucking property?”

“The guy doesn’t respect me,” said Frankie, finding his voice. “Doesn’t laugh at my jokes, don’t call me sir.”

“He knows his role and abides by it. You on the other hand need a reminder,” snapped Seb. “Sam, dismissed.”

I quickly went back to the kitchen to finish my vegetable prep. On the one hand, Frankie was about to have a world of shit thrown his way which normally I’d feel bad about. On the other, I hated his guts and he’d hit Max for no damn reason so he deserved what was coming to him.

“Take a tylenol in six hours and ice that ankle,” said Andy, patting Max’s shoulder from where he looked him over. We shared a quick look before Max headed for our quarters, the event planner shaking her head.

“That’s why I always say you need a stair runner on those grand staircases, be damned the design.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” said Andy with a role of his eyes. Cecilia eyed me up and down before looking at her phone.

Weird…

“What do you think about maroon?” asked the planner to her just as I caught Seb storming across the hall to his office.

Yeah, today was not about to be Frankie’s day.

It was late when I finally finished with the chores. I was a better cook than Max so I normally handled dinner and prepping snacks and lunches. But doing all of Max’s cleaning on top of all of mine meant I was exhausted and starving for my own dinner.

“Sam.” I turned my head in the dim hallway, Sebastian sitting in his office, sipping on a glass of what I guessed was very expensive whiskey. “Come in here, please.”

I swallowed. The last time I had a late night conversation in that office, I was being branded by the poker in the fire place. God, if he was going to kill me hopefully it’d be fast.

I entered the room, pulling the door shut when he waved his hand. “Yes, sir?”

“How’s Max?” I clasped my hands behind my back, lowering my gaze.

“I haven’t seen him yet. I’d assume he’s resting.”

“You’re a hard worker, Sam. Always appreciated that about you. Max too,” he said, standing with his glass. He spun slowly, taking a sip. “You know what I like most about you boys though?”

Oh God. I was so dead.

“You’re loyal,” he said with a grin. “Sure, it took us a little bit to get there but you were young men. I made plenty of mistakes when I was twenty too. Now…now you boys know your place and I haven’t done a single thing to either one of you since. That’s the kind of trust I know we have. It’s loyalty. Something I seem to be lacking with some of my men.”

I raised my head, Sebastian finishing off his drink.

“Frankie’s…no longer with the operation. That kind of boy wants my head. All he sees is how to get rid of me. And I won’t say I liked the way he looked at my daughter.”

Okay. Good news, Frankie was dead and buried out in the woods out back. Bad news, Sebastian was in one of his killing moods which normally didn’t stop at one body. Mob bosses were like that.

“It’s too bad you and Max aren’t suited for this kind of work. You’re the kind of boys I could trust to be successor,” said Seb, refilling his glass from the bottle on the desk.

“That’s very flattering of you sir,” I said, his chin raising.

“Those are my issues to deal with though. You and Max on the other hand, I can promise that even when I step down and am long gone, you’ll always have your places in this organization. You were a big investment and it’s paying off. I don’t want all that effort to go to waste,” he said, clasping my shoulder. Fuck, I could literally taste the bile pooling up from my gut.

“Thank you sir,” I said quietly, fighting back a shake when he ruffled my hair.

“If only Cecilia were a man. This kind of work doesn’t lend itself to women…although she does have enough rage inside her to handle it,” he said, walking over to his desk, my eyes widening for only a split second when I saw the planner there. “She fucking slipped that singer and Dean Winchester’s names on the guest list. Can you believe that? The balls on that kid.”

Fuck. It didn’t work. It didn’t-

“I guess it’ll make her happy though,” he sighed, cracking a smile when he looked at me. “And I wouldn’t mind meeting Dean Winchester. I bet I could get him to sign my jersey in the game room.”

“I know how much you enjoy the LA Wolves. I know your work is…stressful,” I said carefully, Seb allowing it. “Perhaps Miss Cecilia wouldn’t be the only one to get some happiness out of the guests.”

“This is why I like you, Sam. Always looking out for the big guy,” he chuckled, nodding his head. “She practically begged when I asked her about it earlier so I suppose if I get a benefit out of it too that’s a happy accident.”

I forced a smile, Seb humming to himself.

“Alright. Go and tend to your friend. I have work to do.”

“Yes sir,” I said. I was quiet in the house as I made my way to our room, closing our door with a quiet thud. Max sat up from the twin mattress, a shiner on his eye and some bruises covering his arms and legs but otherwise in one piece. “It worked.”

“It worked?” asked Max, a smile growing on his face as I nodded. “It fucking worked!”

“Yup. Now we just got to hope they accept,” I said, kicking off my shoes. “Although…we may have a problem with Cecilia. Dickface confronted her about the names, thought she slipped them in. She covered for us. The way she looked at me in the kitchen earlier, I think she knows I did it.”

“The kid is smart and knows her dad’s in the fucking mob. Maybe she’s got a gut feeling something’s not right. Let’s just hope she keeps her mouth shut until after the party,” said Max. I tried not to worry about her right now. I think she knew enough to not say anything.

“So now we just wait for them to accept a random ass invitation to a party for a guy they’ve never heard of.” I sat down beside him, Max still all smiles.

“Have a little faith, Sammy. We made it this far. Who knows? Two weeks from now we could be free men.”

Free or dead. One way or the other, I had a feeling our stay at the Sebastian household would be coming to an end very soon.

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x #dean winchester x you #football au #series

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wastelandmoony · 10 months

Text

Déjà Vécu: Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen : Hope

Summary: A sad one, I'm sorry.

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only!, mentions death of a parent, angst, anxiety/overwhelming feelings, language, mentions of death and self harm, mentions of abuse, mentions of drinking.

Read on AO3

Companion Playlist

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

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December 23rd, 1974

The letter arrived two days before Christmas, scribbled in James’ messy handwriting.

Come to mine when you can. It’s Remus.

They had planned to spend part of Christmas break together at the Potter’s, but not until Boxing Day. She tried not to think about the actual context of the message, instead steeling herself against the onslaught of grief and sadness threatening to break down her carefully placed walls. Tossing the parchment onto the bed, she quickly raced to pack her trunk, which luckily had been barely touched since arriving home only a few days prior. Her parents understood completely when she explained why she needed to leave so abruptly, though rightfully disappointed to not be seeing her longer over the holidays, and requested that Mrs. Potter send an owl when she dropped them off at Kings Cross on January 2nd.

Mr. Potter had been the one that helped her parents connect a floo system to their house, he was adamant that it would be necessary to have any connection with the magical world, and it was something that she was eternally thankful for at the current moment (the thought of waiting through muggle travel would have killed her). Waving sadly, she watched as her parents faces became blurred in the green flames, twisting and warping until the familiar outlines of the Potter’s sitting room came into view. Fleamont stood by the window with a cup of tea, staring thoughtfully out over the garden. At the sound of the rushing flames, he spun unperturbed towards the fireplace and greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hello there! James said you would be arriving shortly.”

She gripped the handle of her trunk self-consciously, “I’m sorry to show up earlier than anticipated, are you sure it’s okay that I stay this long? I don’t want to be a burden—“

“Nonsense, you’re always welcome, all of you are” Mr. Potter took hold of her bags and set them down beside a large scarlet armchair, “You better not let Effie hear you talk like that either, she’ll be beside herself thinking you felt unwelcome in our house.”

She gave him a sad smile, noticing how tired he looked. The war effort must be worsening, she thought, making a note to talk to James later.

“I’ll have these taken up to your room,” Mr. Potter motioned towards her belongings, “the boys are in the kitchen if you want to join them.”

She trailed her fingers along the wainscoting, once again looking at all of the old family portraits adorning the main hallway of the manor. Their smiling faces filling every frame with love and happiness. In the center of the hall, she stopped at a small oval portrait of a young James and his mother. He couldn’t be older than two years, sitting atop of her lap with his wild hair and bright eyes. Euphemia gazed down at her son with such devotion and unbridled joy. She thought of Remus and choked on the lump in her throat.

In mid-November she had accidentally stumbled upon a letter written to Remus from his father Lyall. Once a week for the past few months, a shabby tawny owl would drop a small letter onto his plate during breakfast, to which Remus would quickly tear open, eyes flying wildly over the short sentences. He’d then tuck the parchment into his pocket or a book, and carry on as normal, showing no emotion whatsoever. The weekly updates on his mother were seen as a small kindness to Remus, courtesy of his father, but she just saw it for what it was: basic human decency, something no one should have to suffer for.

After oversleeping one morning, she realized halfway through the day that the Defense textbook needed for that afternoon was currently sitting atop the trunk in her dormitory…on the opposite side of the castle, with only minutes to spare before class began. Ripping the sketchbook from the depths of her bag, she hurriedly scribbled out a message to Remus, who would be passing by shortly on his way to Arithmancy:

Can you lend me your DADA book for this afternoon?

She tapped her fingers impatiently against the spine waiting for a response.

Of course, meet me outside the Defense tower.

A short time (and a brisk sprint) later, he handed over the book with a soft smile, promising to save her a seat at dinner that evening, and she quickly rushed to class. As she tossed her bag onto the floor beside a desk, the book fell from underneath her arm, tumbling dramatically onto the stone below. Sighing, she quietly picked it up, righting its bent pages and placing it onto the desk. A wrinkled piece of parchment caught her eye beside her bag, and she leaned down to retrieve it. The handwriting was sharp and uniform, one that she didn’t recognize, but as she began to read, the realization of who the author was sunk in.

Dr. Watson is concerned about her lungs. She’s refusing more medication. He said to make her comfortable.

I will not expect you home for the holidays, your mother doesn’t need anymore stress.

-Lyall

The hand holding the parchment was shaking by the time she was through. It read like a cold office memo or a military order, right down to the signature, though the context behind the writing was anything but. It was filled with contempt, and such deep rooted disdain for a son who’s only crime was existence. She slipped the parchment back between the pages, against her first instinct to set it on fire. Remus wouldn’t have wanted any of them reading it, so she swallowed every emotion clawing at her insides, threatening to rip through muscle and bone like a caged animal.

None of them questioned it when James announced that Remus would be staying with him for Christmas break a few days later during dinner. The four boys conspired about plans and pranks for the holiday, and she caught Remus’ eye briefly from across the table. He was laughing, but the sound was hollow, any spark left had been snuffed out.

Tearing her eyes away from the portrait, she continued down to the kitchen where she found Peter and James sitting solemnly at the table, his mother alternating between multiple pots on the stove. At the sight of her, James jumped up to envelop her in an almost bone-crushing embrace.

“Oh! Hello dear! You arrived just in time, dinner will be ready in about an hour,” Mrs. Potter shot her a smile from across the tiled floor. If Fleamont was exhausted, Effie was dead on her feet. She’d lost a significant amount of weight since last summer, face gaunt and angular, accentuating the dark circles beneath her eyes. She could only imagine the amount of pressure they were under, a thought that twisted the guilt in her stomach for showing up here earlier than planned.

“Sounds perfect, thank you so much,” she tried to reciprocate the smile, to show any bit of appreciation she could, but fell short when she looked back at James.

“The letter arrived this morning…” he trailed off, handing over a crumpled up piece of parchment. The same sharp, uniform handwriting stared back at her.

Your mother passed at 6:12 this morning. If you’re needed at home, I’ll send an owl.

“Where is he?” Her voice fell to barely a whisper. He nodded sadly towards the back door.

She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and let herself out of the French doors into the garden.

The sun was beginning to set, casting the grounds of Potter Manor in a bronze glow. The pond in the distance shone brightly, geese fluttering their wings against the surface. Patches of thick snow still lingered from weeks prior, clinging to life and refusing to melt even in the face of the warm rays of sunlight. There was an analogy there, one she was too tired to formulate at the moment.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the cold air, hoping the chill would invigorate her nerves. The scent of Mrs. Potter’s cooking permeated through the door, mixing with the brisk December weather and wafting clouds of…smoke?

The smell broke her from whatever semblance of calm she had tried to grasp, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of Sirius seated on the low brick wall surrounding the garden, cigarette hanging from his downturned mouth.

“He doesn’t want to talk,” he stated dryly, taking a drag and blowing the smoke upwards.

“That’s fine, he doesn’t have to, but I’d still like to know where he is,” she crossed her arms and moved closer. They’d been on rocky terms since the quidditch debacle a few months ago, still undoubtedly friends, but not outwardly cordial; both too stubborn to hash it out.

“Why’re you here?” She asked, squinting in the blinding rays of light emanating from the oncoming sunset.

“…because he’s my best friend?” His voice was like the sharp edge of a knife as he shot a threatening glare towards her.

Holding up both hands in apology, she shook her head, “That came out wrong, I’m sorry. I meant…do your parents know where you are? I thought they hated the Potters?”

Sirius’ face softened, becoming almost amused, like he had a joke he was dying to tell, “They don’t care what I do anymore. I can come and go as I please.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with her, but at the moment she had more pressing matters to worry about.

She motioned towards the cigarette as he took another pull, “What’s going on here?”

He shrugged, grinning smugly, “Why all the questions? Concerned about me?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, “I don’t have time to deal with you right now, Black. Where’s Remus?”

“Back by the orchard. Like I said, he doesn’t want to talk, so don’t expect much from him.”

She nodded, trekking out towards the apple trees at the edge of the grounds. Their bare, twisted branches came into view after a few minutes of walking, a lone slumped figure sitting just on the edge of the tree line.

“Rem?” She called softly, bracing for the worst.

He turned his head quickly, eyes wide and full of stomach-churning sadness. Resisting every urge to rush to him, she was a little surprised when he stood up and took a few long strides to her. He’d been crying, eyes rimmed red along with the tip of his nose, which added to the flush on his scarred cheeks from the cold. She wondered how long he’d been sitting out here.

She reached out and traced a hand over his arm, feeling the soft wool of his jumper, “Remus, I’m so sorry—“

Without warning, he hugged her, fisting the back of her jacket as sobs wracked his willowy frame.

“She’s gone…” he choked into her shoulder, “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”

The sound shattered her heart. Remus had always shown more emotion around her, but never this caliber of sadness. She couldn’t imagine losing someone so close, let alone one of her parents; she didn’t even want to entertain the thought.

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered into his hair, holding him tighter as her own tears began to fall.

They stayed clinging to each other for a while, Remus finally calming enough to breathe evenly, and her tears ceasing to flow freely anymore. When she mentioned dinner in the hopes of cheering him up, he asked to stay out a bit longer, not ready to deal with the pitying expressions from his best friends and the Potter’s. So they sat at the edge of the orchard, Remus’ head in her lap as she played with his sandy hair. She didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions, didn’t say a word, she just waited for him to be ready.

“She was good, y’know,” Remus said suddenly, eyes blinking up at her, “The best of any of us Lupin’s, really.”

She pushed a strand off his face, “You’re the best out of anyone, Rem.”

He closed his eyes and hummed, “She wasn’t scared of me, never made me feel like less of a human. I was too young to remember what my father was like before my accident, but according to my mother he was sweet. I have no doubts that he loved her, the circumstances just became too much…for both of them.”

He must’ve felt her hand still in his hair, because the tone of his voice changed.

“Up until she couldn’t get out of bed anymore, the morning after the full moon she would sneak down before my father woke up and slip me some chocolate. It always made me feel better, even if just for a little bit…”

“Is that why you always have emergency chocolate on you?”

He nodded silently in her lap, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

She bent down and kissed his forehead, fighting back the tears that clung to the corners of her eyes.

“I think I’m ready to head back now,” he murmured, sitting upright and dusting off his corduroy pants. He helped her up, keeping hold of her hand as they made the journey back towards the manor, slow and steady, one step at a time.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #marauders era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #marauders x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x you #james potter fluff #Sirius Black slow burn

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believinghurts · 3 years

Text

Their Daughter

Chapter 5

Author’s note: I use Grammarly to fix my mistakes, but there could still be some so sorry for that. Also, I am getting back into writing and am hoping to have a few more works out soon! Please reblog, like, or comment feedback is appreciated.

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: None? Sirius being a d*ck? Maybe language, but I don’t think so.

Regulus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stroked his niece's hair. He was mad at his brother for basically throwing away the only good thing that had ever come from the Black family. Sirius was too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of him. As children, Sirius often told Regulus that he was their family's favorite and that it bothered him, but if he knew what it was like to be less loved then how can he love Harry more than Ali? He understood that Harry was Sirius's Godson, but couldn’t he love Ali and Harry equally? If Sirius made the effort maybe Ali and the other children could even be friends. His heart ached from the emotional battle that Ali was going through right now. Even if Sirius didn’t see it, he and Remus did. Ali’s light was dimmer than before and when she was lighting up again after finding out Sirius never came for her, Sirius just had to go and snuffed it out.

Carefully sliding out from under Ali and placing a pillow under her head Regulus left the room. He shut the door behind him casting a locking spell so she wouldn’t be bothered. He needed to speak with Remus first before doing anything. They needed to decide what to do about Ali. As much as Regulus wanted to spend time with her before she went back to school he didn’t want her to be this upset anymore. He walked into the study to find Remus and Nymphadora sitting near the fireplace.

“How is she?” Nymphadora blurted the question as soon as she saw her cousin. Remus had owled her after Ali had gone to her room. The older sister in her wanted to go up to Sirius and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“She’s asleep for now. All the fighting has exhausted her. I honestly don’t know what to do. I want her here, this is her home, but if Sirius doesn’t stop acting like the brut that he is it is going to hurt her more. Speaking of Sirius, where is he? It’s quiet.” Regulus flopped down on the chair across from Remus and Nymphadora raking a hand through his hair. His worry for Ali was causing him a headache. On one hand, he wanted to send Ali to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the remainder of summer, but on the other, he wanted to hold her close and have her stay in her home where she belonged.

“Sirius left with Harry after you went upstairs. He hasn’t been home since. The Weasleys stepped out to Diagon Alley to get the kids stuff for school.” Remus replied. He was secretly thankful that the house was mainly empty. This way at least Ali could come down if she felt like it without the chance of someone bothering her. Remus was having the same thoughts as Regulus about keeping Ali at home virus's sending her to the Manor. He just wanted his niece to be happy. The hope that he had of Sirius and Ali having the father/daughter relationship was gone. If only Remus could get Sirius to open his eyes to the pain he was causing to the girl, but Sirius was nothing if not stubborn.

“I think I am going to write to Cissa and see if she can keep Ali for the rest of summer. If that’s what it takes for her to be happy then so be it. We can see her off at the -“

“I don’t want to leave,” Ali’s voice interrupted. “I want to stay here with you. Please don’t make me leave. I can handle it, I promise.”

Ali knew that she and Regulus were going to have to talk about the fact that she called him dad, but that was a private conversation. Right now she needed to convince the adults in the room that she didn’t need to leave. She could take Sirius. Yes the words that he had said hurt her and the actions he did tonight furthered that hurt in her heart, but she was done. She didn’t owe him anything, and it was clear she knew that he didn’t want to be her father. She had meant what she said to Regulus. He was her father in all the ways that counted. He loved her unconditionally, was always there for her, and protected her.

She went and sat on the couch in between Nymphadora and Remus who wrapped an arm around her pulling her close to his chest. “It might be best if you went and stayed for the rest of the summer at the Manor, Al. This isn’t good for you mentally. We all can see how drained you are.”

“No, this is my home. I can handle it. I have you all plus the older Weasleys and Fleur. You'll protect me and if I need to get away for a little bit I’ll owl Blaise or Draco to go to Diagon Alley or something. I want to spend time with you. Times are hard right now and you never know when you are going to lose someone and I would like to have as much time with each of you just in case.”

Regulus leaned forward taking Ali’s hand in his, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to happen to us. I love you more than you could ever imagine and if you want to stay here you can.” Ali smiles brightly at that before Regulus cut her off, “but you have to tell me, Remus, or Severus, if anything happens. And you have to come out of your room. I am not having you locking yourself away again. Got it?”

Ali pounced on Regulus, hugging his neck tight. She was excited to spend some more time with her family. She had meant what she said about never knowing when something was going to happen. Wizards had been disappearing all over London and she was genuinely scared something was going to happen to her loved ones. She was going to make it a point to take plenty of photos and make enough memories to last a lifetime the next couple of weeks.

Regulus held his niece tight, fighting back the tears when she whispered, “Thanks, Dad,” into his ear. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but this was one title he was going to wear proudly.

Remus’s voice interrupted the moment, “wait for a second, why are you going to owl Blaise? We have an agreement, young lady, no boys till you're thirty!”

Ali’s giggle was music to those in the room with her, and for the first time that summer they all saw Ali smile at home the brightest she had since everyone arrived.

————

The rest of the day was eventful which was something that everyone was thankful for. Nymphadora left shortly after spending some time with Ali since she had something to attend to with Moody, so that left Regulus, Ali, and Remus to watch the Star Wars movies in Ali’s room. Kreacher brought them snacks while they made a fort on the floor. Ali was incredibly content laying on the mounds of pillows in between her Uncles. When she was younger they would have movie nights like this once a month until she started Hogwarts. Even then she and her friends carried on the tradition in the boy's dorm since Draco was often present at the ones hosted at home. She wished that she could have Draco over now, but knew that if she brought him here then everyone in the house would throw a fit about it, maybe it was something to bring up to Regulus later.

Molly called them all down for dinner shortly after the second film ended. Leaving the mess on the floor the trio made their way downstairs with Ali trailing behind her Uncles. She could feel her nerves spike the closer she got to the dining room. She thought about excusing herself stating she wasn’t hungry, but the loud growl in her stomach gave her hunger away. Everyone had already sat down beside Harry and Sirius when they got into the room. Regulus pulled the seat out next to him for his niece. Fleur shot her a smile when she sat down by her uncle with Charlie on her other side. At least she was sitting near someone who didn’t hate her.

Chatter and the sounds of forks on plates filled the room as everyone got their fill of Molly’s meatballs and onion sauce. Everyone broke off into separate conversations. Remus, Regulus, and Arthur talking about the Ministry, the younger Weasleys, and Hermione talking about Quidditch, Bill and Fleur about their upcoming wedding, and Charlie and Ali talking about his work in Romania. “What are you planning on doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ali shot a glance over at Remus who was doing a terrible job of disguising his eavesdropping on the duo. “I am thinking about becoming a professor. I like creatures obviously so I was thinking something along those lines, but I also like Herbology. So maybe that. I just know I want to teach.”

Charlie shot her a grin. “Have you thought about where? I know Hogwarts has Sprout for Herbology and Hagrid was doing Care of Magical Creatures, but you still have three more years of school so maybe they’ll need someone by the time you're done.”

Ali shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she wanted to leave England and travel for a bit but knew that if she brought it up now it would be a fight or something so she bit her tongue. “Maybe.”

The noise came to a halt when the door slammed open in the living room. Everyone hopped to their feet, wands at the ready. It felt like hours had passed before the intruder walked through the door. “Sirius! Harry! Merlin, you scared us all.”

“Sorry, it’s raining hard and we were in a rush to get back home.” Sirius shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone retook their seats beside Milly who served Harry and Sirius. Ali tried her hardest to keep from looking at the latest duo that entered, not wanting to cause any more trouble or to give Sirius a reason to lash out at her.

Dinner passed rather quickly, conversations flowed in their small groups. Charlie had gone with Fleur and Bill on a scouting mission shortly after eating, while Fred and George worked on new products for their shop. Ali was in her head thinking about asking to go to meet Pansy in the coming days to look at a new book shop. Pansy wasn’t much of a reader but was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house. She was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up Molly was smiling softly at her while handing her a letter in a dark blue envelope. She instantly knew who the letter was from since only one person used that kind of envelope when writing her.

“This came for you, dear, when you were with your uncles. I didn't want to bother you then I almost forgot just now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Ali smiled at the kind woman. Despite her feelings towards most of the Weasley children, their parents were quite nice.

Molly patted her cheek before walking off. Ali started to rip the top off when she got Regulus’s eye and he winked at her. He knew who the letter was from having met the boy a few times already. Her cheeks flushed and continued to do so while reading it.

Dear Supernova,

I hope you are surviving the dreadfulness that is upon you right now with all the people in your house. Yes, Draco told me what was going on yesterday when I finally threatened to out his crush if he didn’t explain why we hadn’t been seeing you a lot this summer. I have to say I am quite hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. Best friends I thought. Just joking, but seriously you could have told me about him and I wouldn't have said a word to anyone.

I miss you, Supernova. We’ve only got to see each other once this summer and we both know when school starts you will have a book shoved in front of your face in the first three minutes. Could we get together sometime this week? It has been awful at home and if I have to hear Draco's voice one more time without you there to tell him off for being annoying I may throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Your uncle may not agree, but you could come to stay at mine for a night. Mother agreed to it as long as Regulus does and we have separate rooms. If you can't, maybe I can come to you? I don’t really care what the redheads have to say about me being there so don’t worry about that. We have much to catch up on; like the fact that you got Headgirl and also didn’t write and tell me. I had to find that little tidbit out from Parkinson's. Don’t worry we’ll catch up whether that's soon or on the train.

love,

Zabini

Ali felt a pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t meant to forget to fill Blaise in on her life but it had been so crazy recently she hadn’t got to write anyone much. In all the truth no one knew that she had gotten Headgirl. She had gotten the letter from Flitwich a few days after the Weasley’s arrived and completely forgot. Although she told her Uncles she didn’t want to go anywhere spending some time with Blaise sounded nice. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off she looked up to find Regulus and Remus looking at her with amused smiles on their faces.

“What’s you got there, Ali?” Remus asked, causing her cheeks to flame red. She wasn’t scared to say that she wanted to hang out with a boy. She did it all the time whether it was Blaise, Theo, or Draco; it was more to do with the fact that she was about to ask to spend the night at a boys' house. Even if they were going to be in separate rooms and they had fallen asleep cuddled together weeks prior at the Malfoys, something none of her Uncles knew, it was going to be a little fight to get Remus to agree as he made the ‘no dating till you’re thirty’ rule when she was five and asked for a boyfriend for Christmas.

Looking around she noticed all attention was on her even if the other adults in the room were making it seem like they weren’t listening while the children openly gawked. “Uhm,” she was cut off by Severus stepping into the room. Great, now she had to face all three Uncles. Where were Dora and Cissa when she needed them?

Severus hugged her quickly before taking a place by Regulus. “Who's the letter from Ali?” He asked her letting her know there was no getting out of it and that she was going to have to spill the beans.

“It’s from Blaise,” A look of amusement passed Regulus’s face, making her think that he knew what was in the letter already while Remus looked like he was going to snatch the letter out of her hands and read it himself if she didn’t hurry up.

“And what possibly could it say to have your cheeks looking like the inside of Gryffindor common room?” Regulus teased further.

She coughed trying to get her nerves resealed. “He was saying that we need to catch up before school starts, and invited me to come and stay with him and Mrs. Zabini for a night this week.”

Remus grunted while Regulus smiled. Ali had to hide a giggle as she noticed all the other mouths in the room had dropped to the floor. Ali knew that except for Hermione and Harry the Weasley’s never stayed or had anyone else with them.

“Can I, please? His mother said we would have separate rooms and she will be there as well as the house-elves. We only got to see one another once this summer. He said if I can’t he could come here, but honestly, I think the first option is better. Please?” She pulled out her best puppy eyes and pouty lip. She was not above begging for it but didn’t want to do so with everyone staring at her.

Regulus looked over at Remus. Ali could see the silent conversation going on between them. Regulus’s head inclined slightly toward Ali which she hoped to Merlin was a good thing. Remus looked back at his niece with a look in his eye she couldn’t read. “Rosalynn said you’ll have separate rooms?” Ali nodded her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “And you’ll stay in them?” Once again she nodded, although she knew that they more than likely would be in the family room till late hours in the night. He looked back at Regulus, “you have no problems with her going?”

“No, I already knew about it. Rosalynn wrote about two days ago. If she wants to go, that's fine. You know Rosalynn will look after her as she does Blaise. And the Heavens know that boy would jump in front of the Knight Bus for Ali.” Regulus chuckled at Ali's shocked expression.

“Y-you knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali struggled to get the words out.

“Rosalynn said Blaise wanted to ask you. She was just giving me a heads up, knowing how Remus is with boys and you. You know we talked quite often, Als.” Regulus winked at her.

“You may go,” Remus stated. She was shocked she didn’t have to put up more of a fight.

“WHAT?” Sirius shrieked. He knew that Regulus would let her go to the Death Eaters house, but Remus? He thought he could count on his ‘friend’ to at least say no. “You’re letting her go to the Death Eaters house? AGAIN? Who's also a boy and staying the night? Are you mad?”

Remus looked at Sirius with disdain, “No I am not. She is a good girl and Blaise has been her friend for years. Rosalynn loves her as much as we do and would never let anything happen. And for God's sake quit calling everyone a Death Eater.”

“Outrageous.”

“Sirius, you have no say in what she does. You gave that up last night. Ali is a good girl who makes good choices. Not only that but she also deserves a little something since she got Headgirl this year, don’t you think?” Regulus smirked as he saw the Granger girl's face fall.

“You got Headgirl?” Hermione whispered to Ali with disbelief lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I did. Draco got Headboy I believe, but it may be Theo. I haven’t asked yet.”

“Why do you and Draco get Head of Houses? Why not Hermione and -“ Ali cut her dear Godbrother off.

“And who? You? Ron? Why would any of you get Head of Houses with all the trouble you bring in? Sneaking out, stealing things, picking fights. We do have the highest marks in most classes as well as treat others equally unlike the likes of you.”

If looks could kill Ali would be dead three times over. In all honesty, she kinda felt bad for the younger Weasley boy seeing as all of his older brothers, bar Fred and George had been Headboy. But then she thought about the trouble he and his friends had caused her and her friends as well as others over the years. Harry preached about equality among the houses but she had witnessed many times when younger Slytherins were picked on by Gryiffndors. Hufflepuffs generally didn't have any problems with the other houses so long as everyone was being just. Ravenclaws tended to keep to themselves unless it really involved them. Whereas Slytherins preferred to stand up to those picking on other Slytherins especially the younger ones. Slytherins were always made out to be the bullies when in general if you got to know them people would notice that they are a lot more than what their parents used to be.

Ally had heard the stories of how mean James and Sirius were to those in Slytherin even if they never did anything to them. She believed in harmless fun could be had pulling pranks, but tricking someone into going to a place where a werewolf was was downright cruel. She had no doubts in her mind that James and Sirius were once good people like her Uncle Remus is now, but seeing as Sirius still acts like a child those doubts were becoming known.

“I just think that Slytherins shouldn’t be Head of House when all you will do is favor your own, and treat everyone else like dirt,” Ron stated.

“Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing?!” Molly exclaimed.

“It’s alright Mrs. Weasey. I am used to hearing such things come from them and others in their house,” Ali looked Ron in the eyes, “You seem to forget that I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin. I do not favor anyone and will not when I start Head Girl duties but know this. I will give you as many detentions as you deserve if you are caught bullying, harassing, belittling, any of the other houses. You may think that Gryiffndors are the bravest of the houses and maybe you are in some ways, but you are cowardly in others. Maybe some Slytherins are as bad as you make them seem, but Harry,” she turned her head slightly to the side, “you seem to forget just which house Peter Pettigrew was in when he was the one who betrayed your parents. And Regulus was in Slytherin but seems to be more loyal to his friends and family than that rat was.”

“It seems that Alianova has given you all something to think about as you're getting ready for bed,” Molly stated looking at all the children present in the room. Her face grew red when she saw that none of them had moved a muscle. “Now.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, jumped from their seats and booked it to the stairs scared of Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. At some point, Charlie, Fluer, and Bill came back from scouting. Charlie ruffled Ali’s hair causing her to grin. “Good job, kid. You’ll make a great Head Girl.” Bill and Fleur nodded in agreement. “Nothing happened while we were out. We’ll give a full debrief tomorrow, but we will be heading to bed as well. Good night everyone.”

Molly walked to Ali and pulled her up out of her chair before placing both hands on Ali’s pale cheeks. “Don’t you worry, dear, I will be talking with all of them in the morning. You made a lot of valid points, and I for one am proud that you are Head Girl.”

She kissed her forehead before taking her husband to go to bed after waving her wand to get the kitchen clean once again. Arthur offered Ali a small smile before disappearing behind his wife. Sirius scoffed at the behavior which everyone heard but chose to ignore.

Ali turned to her three Uncles, waiting for the answer about going to her friends, and the scene that just played out in the kitchen.

“I am proud of you as well, Alianova. You have done excellent, and I know it is Remus and Regulus' decision about going to Blaises’, but I see no problem with it. I will stay in the guest room. Come get me if you need me. Good night, Ali.” He hugged her tightly, making Ali tear up slightly at the thought of Servus being proud of her. It also made her giddy at the thought of rubbing it in Draco’s face since Severus is his Godfather and never said such a thing to him.

Remus followed after Servus, wrapping his niece in a bear hug around her shoulders. The height difference amusing Regulus to no end seeing as Ali only came about midway in Remus’s chest. “You may go as long as it’s okay with Reg, and you stay in separate rooms. I am a little mad though that you didn’t tell me yourself about getting Head Girl, but I am still incredibly proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do, not even Harry.” The last part was whispered in her ear. He kissed her forehead, before heading to his room.

With the three Blacks being the only ones left in the room. “I don’t think you should go.” Sirius’s voice was venomous as he thought about his only child, his legacy, spending time with Death Eaters.

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you think isn’t it?” Regulus smirked at his older brother. He was not going to take this away from his child. “Ali, you may go so long as you stay in your separate rooms whenever the two of you decide to go to sleep because I know from having all your mates over it will be late.” He walked to Ali cradling her freckled face in his hands. “I am so proud to call you my daughter. Even after all that you have been through in your life you have still managed to form your own beliefs and thoughts as well as stand up for them. You deserve Head Girl over anyone else, and hopefully, you get to share it with one of your friends.”

Ali dove into her Uncle's chest. Tears welling up into her eyes at the thought that he really did think of her as his own even if she already knew it. It was nice to hear out loud. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, dad.” She kissed his cheek before heading to her room to write Blaise.

Sirius felt his anger sore to new heights when he heard Ali call Regulus dad. He had enough courtesy to wait till she was out of earshot before grounding out, “We need to talk, Regulus.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black x niece!reader #remus lupin x niece!reader #harry potter oc #severus snape x niece!reader #sirius black x daughter!reader #draco malfoy x platonic!reader #blaise zabini x reader

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Wretched Candy

Lucius Malfoy x reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: bad spell casting, break ups, cheating but not really, semi panic attack at meeting a Boggart, Lucius and his pure blood thing

Author’s Note: oh shoot guys, my first fic that I planned since the hiatus bitches...and it’s Lucius fucking Malfoy who has no audience but you know what I really liked this.

Disclaimer: I added some of my own elements to some spells. I am aware that it’s not how it actually is lol

Summary: You and Lucius were together when you were at Hogwarts. You are surprised to meet Draco years later.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

You remembered your days at Hogwarts well. Most people lived them like they were going to be the end of their days. People like those were the head of the Quidditch team, a Head boy or girl, a prefect.

The place was as magical as everyone said it was. The walls gleaned with wonder and mystery. There were places that were sure to be the doom of some students. Classes that could result in death, if not handled correctly. Although you had never really thought about the death count, you were sure it was up there. No one would give an honest answer if you asked back then though.

You were just a student.

And a rather mediocre one at that. At least at first.

You were sitting in the back of your Potions class. First day of class, your third year. You had your own friends here and there and you were close enough with people in your own year but no one in this class.

You floated from person to person. There wasn’t a set of people that you could be found with. You had to assume that it was in your best interests to float. You looked up at the sky and saw the door open as the next person came into the class. People had begun filing in, finding their seats and their friends. You didn’t know the Professor, he was new. You weren’t sure if he would move you all around later but for now, everyone was looking for a place to stay all year.

You recognized Narcissa Black walk in and take a seat next to one of her friends. You watched her smile rise and fall as other people she knew walked into the room, sitting beside her. There was quickly a group at the front of the class but one seat remained, beside her, empty.

You were looking down when Lucius Malfoy walked into the class. You had taken your cauldron out of your bag, placing it carefully on your desk. The seat beside you was still empty but you expected it. When Lucius sat down you were noticeably intrigued. Not surprised, just intrigued.

You raised an eyebrow at him but he was not looking at you. He was bringing his much too expensive silver cauldron out of his bag and placing it beside yours. Narcissa watched him as he did so and you realized that she had been hoping he would sit with her. You didn’t know that they had ever been together but if they were, they were clearly going through a rough patch.

It would be ample entertainment to try and draw a rift between Noble houses like Black and Malfoy. Perhaps potions wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

He finally met your gaze, as you had been staring at him for a moment longer than necessary.

“Starring isn’t very polite,” he told you. You shrugged.

“Did your daddy buy that caldron for you from the top shelf in Diagon Alley?” you asked him. He gave you a sly smile.

“I picked it out, actually,” he told you. You raised your eyebrow and scoffed, looking away from him.

“You got a tongue on you Malfoy. Is that what caused you and Lady Black to break up?” you questioned him. He shot you a look and you knew you had taken it a bit too far but you didn’t owe anything to Lucius Malfoy. He had quite a reputation for being a stuck up rich boy around the school. Living under his fathers thumb...a prick regardless.

“Her name is Narcissa,” he told you. “What is your name?”

“Y/N.” He waited for you to give him your last name and you did not. He was too hung up with the family stuff, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“Alright Y/N. Would you like me to move and sit with her?” he asked. He had an enviable poise to him. You slowly leaned back in your chair and brought your quill feather to your nose. You pursed your lips and leaned forward again.

“Why don’t you stay? I could use some entertainment. You’re not bound to the back left corner seat if you and Narcissa get better.”

Class began then and you and Lucius Malfoy were too intrigued with each other for it to go nowhere.

==========

Over the next few weeks, you would come to Potions and write each other notes, slipping them under the table. They started out with simple curiosity. It was two classes in when he pressed you for your family name and you gave it to him. It wasn’t anything fancy but you were a pureblood and you knew that was important to him.

Every time you came to class you expected him to leave the spot and go back to Narcissa. He didn’t speak to you out of class and you barely paid him any mind.

When you looked back, you knew you were in love with him. You had prided yourself with being able to withstand Lucius’s charms but you hadn’t. You had fallen for the sly smile and mysterious gaze. His silver hair that was cut just above his shoulders looked more and more appealing with each passing Potions class.

You couldn’t let yourself fall in love with him. He was in love with Narcissa.

One day she didn’t show up to class. That wasn’t unusual, everyone got sick every once in a while.

“Where's the princess?” you asked him. He took off his scarf as he sat down beside you. His eyes flicked to Narcissas empty seat.

“Her sisters and her are taking a week vacation. Don’t ask me where, I do not know.” You also had a feeling that he didn’t care. You glanced over at him.

“Aren’t you gonna miss her?” Your voice was a little more emotional than you had wanted it to be. He didn’t look at you.

“Why are you so hung up about her?” he asked. You raised your hands in a sarcastic defiance.

“Sorry lover boy, I won’t bring her up anymore.” He leaned back in his seat and didn’t say anything more until class started.

That class he handed you a note as everyone was dismissed. You took it and read it the second he was out of sight.

‘Astronomy tower, 8 sharp’

=======

You hadn’t taken an Astronomy class yet so you had to do some hunting to make sure you went to the right place. After too many stairs and having to unlock the door with magic, you were able to slip in undetected. Lucius was waiting for you there, standing beside a railing in the dim lighted room.

“You wanted to see me?” you asked, voice small. You had attempted to slip hide your emotion but failed miserably. You walked up to stand beside him and leaned against the pillar. He turned to you and without warning, kissed you. You pulled away quickly, unsure of his intentions and suddenly feeling very flustered. “What about Narcissa?” you questioned, holding his cheek in your hand.

He did not answer so you kissed him again.

=====

Hiding a relationship with Lucius Malfoy had become to be more tedious than you had expected. He would lend you his scarf, even though you had your own, and people tended not to notice. A part of you was fine with the subtlety but you also wanted to be known.

You were your own person but you were also his...for the time being at least.

Narcissa returned to school and you watched her more carefully than you had before. She didn’t even seem to be more than acquaintances with him but then again, you probably looked the same way.

But after classes he would sneak you away places. He would be romantic, he would show you a side to him that you had never seen before. His touch was tender and loving. His home was hard and challenging. Lucius confided in you and you tried to confide in him as well. Your relationship was easy.

You ran your hand through your hair as you sat in the Three Broomsticks. Hogsmeade was alive with students and teachers alike, enjoying a nice day off from everyone's studies. Lucius leaned back in his chair and there was clearly something bothering him.

“So are you going to speak or am I going to have to get you something more to drink?” you asked. His empty cup of cider sat in front of him. “What will it be then? Another cider? Butterbeer? Pumpkin juice?” He shook his head and glanced at the door as another group of students came in.

“No, it’s alright.” He didn’t say anything more though. You rubbed your cold hands together and then took a drink of your butterbeer.

“Lucius…”

“Don’t push it.” His voice was harsher than usual and you took the hint. You stood up and walked over to talk to someone else. You mingled around Three Broomsticks for a while and Narcissa came to talk to Lucius. You were pleased to see that he wasn’t very responsive to her either.

“Hows you and Malfoy?” one of your friends asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Nothing is going on with me and Lucius.”

“Oh yeah?” You gave her a look but Lucius had walked up behind you.

“Let’s go,” he muttered. He grabbed your arm gently and you nodded.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Your friends nodded and gave you looks as you left but you ignored them. Lucius and you walked through Hogsmeade and his breathing seemed to get more shallow.

“My parents sent me an owl,” he said carefully. You shoved your hands in your pockets. You should have brought gloves.

“What did it say?” He looked over at you and noticed how you were shivering. It was snowing pretty well. He took off his scarf and handed it to you and you took it gratefully. “Thanks.”

“I...let’s not talk about it.” You nodded, deciding giving him space would be the best for both of you. You were going back to the school soon anyway and would be going to your separate dorms.

You reached in your jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of candy.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked, an amused look on his face.

“Candy shop. I shoved it in my pocket while you were paying for yours.”

“Stealing isn’t good darling,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Thank you mister obvious.” You grabbed his hand and put some of the candy in his hand. “Enjoy,” you said with a smile. He unwrapped one and popped it in his mouth.

“This is wretched.” He was laughing.

“Well I didn’t look when I grabbed!”

======

You remember the day that Lucius Malfoy branded you well.

You were walking to Defense Against Dark Arts. Your mind was elsewhere and you hadn’t been listening to instructions the whole week so when you came in to find that you would be fighting actual Dark Arts, you were flabbergasted and wildly unprepared. You genuinely weren’t even sure what the monster was.

You could slack off in some other classes but not DADA. Sometimes, you didn’t even trust the teacher to make sure they would save you if you couldn’t save yourself.

You thought about skipping, taking the mark downs for the day but it would be hard without predetermined planning. The teachers tended to look around the halls for stray students.

You slipped into the back of the class and listened to the teacher as he spoke.

“Today we will be dealing with Boggarts, as you likely know already. I trust you’ve all practiced saying the spell at home.” You hadn’t. You furiously flipped through your textbook pages in a last dodge attempt to be prepared. “How about you Y/N? Would you like to start us off?”

Your head shot up and all eyes were on you. You saw nervous looks and it didn’t make you feel any better. If students who had been actually paying attention were nervous, then you had every reason to be.

Prideful and with a hard look on your face you stood up. Your teacher gestured for you to walk in front of a wardrobe and quickly the other students stood behind you. You raised your wand but still had no idea what you were meant to say.

What was a Boggart?

Your Professor opened the wardrobe and your greatest fear stepped out. You froze. You kept chastising yourself in your head, you should have been listening, you should have been listening, you should have been…

The thought was the only thing that kept you from becoming paralyzed with fear.

Your greatest fear took another step toward you and you could faintly hear your teacher speaking and your classmates gasping and whispering but all you could really focus on was that you should have been listening.

Suddenly the thing was struck down and you could breathe again. You fell to the ground, your body suddenly feeling exhausted. On your knees you did not feel embarrassed all you could feel was relieved.

You felt hands on your upper arms and assumed it was your Professor that had saved you but was surprised to turn and see Lucius. He wasn’t even in this class.

“Lucius…” you whispered and before you attempted to hug him in thanks, you registered his face. Shock, worry...you couldn’t put your finger on it. Then all at once, completely unreadable. You swallowed. “What is it?” He was knelt on the floor beside you and he reached forward, taking a piece of your hair in his.

Your hair, once Y/H/C, was now silver like his. Just one strip amongst the other natural colors.

“A side effect of reckless spell casting,” your Professor said. “Shouldn’t you be in class Mr. Malfoy?”

He stood up, hard and professional demeanor back. “I saw she may need help and stepped in.” You were holding your new strip of silver hair in your hand, trying to get a good look at it.

“Is it permanent?” you asked. Your teacher turned to you and leaned down, feeling your hair. He pursed his lips.

“Afraid so. Riddikulus is a spell that should be cast only by the person with the fear or someone who has been doing it for years. I’m afraid Mr. Malfoy is neither. It’s a branding that the spell was done wrong, that you did not complete it.” You scrambled up to your feet and the embarrassment set in.

“I’m sorry Professor. I will do better next time,” you promised and you meant it but truthfully you just wanted the attention to be off your new hair do.

“I trust you will. Now Mr. Malfoy, aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”

Lucius barely gave you a glance as he left the room.

====

You walked into Potions with your head down. People were talking about Lucius and yours little incident and you didn’t need more people gawking at your hair change. You sat in the same spot and only then is when you decided to look up at the classroom.

Lucius was sitting beside Narcissa. You tried to hide your surprise but you didn’t do it very well. A small, heartbroken look on your face was evident to everyone. He wasn’t looking. He didn’t spare you one glance as class went on.

As he was about to leave you yanked his arm toward you, not caring who saw. His face was unreadable as he looked you in the face. You found yourself relishing in his gaze, after being deprived of it for so long.

“What-”

“I thought I wasn’t bound to the seat?” he told you and his words felt like daggers. You let him go just as quickly as you had grabbed him and stepped back.

“You’re right.” You could tell that your words had hurt him a little bit too but he barely showed it. If you hadn’t been paying keen attention you would have missed it. He walked away, Narcissa Black at his arm.

====

As everything in school did, the gossip about the two of you subsided. Lucius never gave you a proper explanation and you never asked for one. You grew to resent him through your final years and your grades went up.

But every time you looked in the mirror you were reminded of the very quick and fleeting fling you never should have had. Constant proof that at some point you had belonged to Lucius Malfoy.

===

- Years Later -

You put down the parchment papers on each desk. Things had changed since you were a student at Hogwarts but not a lot. The desks in the Potions room were likely the same and the textbook requirements definitely were. It made your teaching job a lot easier.

You were teaching a first year class this year, among others. They would start filing in soon. This was your first first year class you were teaching so you really wanted to be prepared. You glanced in your reflection in the cabinet glass doors. You took a deep breath, adjusting your hair. Even after all these years, the streak of silver remained and you had all but forgotten the story of how it came to be. Lucius Malfoy had been nothing but a matter of your past since you left Hogwarts as a student.

The door opened and the first group of kids started to come in. You picked up your attendance sheet and sat down on the teachers desk as people started to take their seats, picking and choosing which friends to partner up with.

You flipped through the textbook as well, opening up to the right spot and getting your last preparations done as the kids sat down. When everyone was seated you looked up with your best teacher smile.

“Welcome first years, to Potions.” You glanced at everyone quickly and your eyes landed on a boy sitting in front. He was whispering with the boys beside him, silver hair, sitting right in Narcissa's old seat. You looked down at your attendance sheet and found what you had suspected...Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. You quickly regained your composure. “I’m going to go through attendance, if you would please raise your hand when I call your na-”

“What happened to your hair?!” someone in the back called. You pursed your lips.

“I dyed it. Now, let's start with A’s.”

====

Draco paid you no mind. You asked around and found that his mother was in fact Narcissa, as you had suspected. You weren’t sure how to feel. It didn’t feel right, that you were sure about. Maybe you were just jealous because you hadn’t gotten married. Sure, you had had your fair share of flings here and there but nothing serious.

You supposed Lucius was a fling as well. It was only a couple months anyway.

But you were not expecting him to show up to the school. You had been comforted in the fact that you didn’t have to see him or Narcissa again so when he showed up, you were noticeably shocked.

Lucius stood beside Draco as they walked down the hallway.

“I will have a conversation with Dumbledore about this, don’t you worry.” You tried to walk past them but Lucius stopped just as you were about to pass.

“Y/N?” You looked up and feigned surprise. You smiled politely, like it wasn’t bothering you that he was there. He looked so much older but almost the same. You couldn’t deal with it.

“Lucius? Oh hello!” You stopped, holding your books close to your chest. His face was somewhat softened, the menacing look he usually had all but gone.

“Draco, go on ahead. I want to talk to an old friend.”

“Professor Y/L/N?” Draco accused.

“Professor?” Lucius said professor but he was really hung up on the fact that your last name had not changed.

“I’m the Potions Professor,” you explained. Lucius had a sly smile creep onto his face.

“Go on Draco.” Draco listened this time and walked forward. The hallway was empty except for the two of you.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you lied. “Draco is a smart boy.” He nodded, gaze following his son as Draco disappeared behind a corner.

“As I was.”

“I was your Potions partner for a good portion of our third year and I beg to differ,” you joked. He raised an eyebrow amusingly.

“Still have the quip of a teenager.”

“And you still have the poise,” you said. He nodded. You were both silent for a second and he reached forward, deleticly grasping your silver strand of hair.

“I never believed that Professor when he said it was permanent.”

“Well it is.” You stepped back and his hand hung in the hair for a second before dropping.

“I suppose I should apologize for leaving you all those years ago,” he said. You shook your head.

“We were just kids you don’t have to-”

“You deserve an explanation.” You didn't expect him to say that. The Lucius you knew would not succeed to any wrong doings he had ever done. “The letter I received from my parents detailed that I was to marry Narcissa if I wanted to or not. In the end I did want to.” He hardened his face into an unamused mask. “I couldn’t face you.”

You always had wondered. You had truly loved him, even for only a moment. You nodded, the understanding showing on your face.

“Thank you for telling me.”

You started to walk away, desperate to go cry somewhere as the feelings all resurfaced but he grabbed your arm.

“Draco should have been yours.” It had been a lapse of judgement on his part but for a moment he truly believed it. Your faces were very close and you couldn’t hide your contempt for his words. He was right but you would never say that. You couldn’t say anything else so you yanked your arm out of his grasp before walking down the hall again. You got only a few steps before turning back around.

“Lucius?”

“Yes?”

“I never thanked you for saving me from that Boggart. Perhaps we’ll get a glass of cider sometime. As thanks,” you said because you needed to say it. You couldn’t leave it like this. He raised his chin and smiled.

“And some wretched candy.”

You grinned and nodded knowingly.

“I’ll pay for it this time.”

“I believe you.”

#lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy imagines #harry potter imagines

210 notes · View notes

olderthanthemorning · 3 years

Text

gold rush (bill weasley) part 1

pairing: bill weasley x reader

summary: “everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.” bill weasley is a golden boy, but i don’t like a gold rush. (based on the song “gold rush” by taylor swift)

wc: 3.1k

warnings: none, someone walking in on someone else but nothing dirty, swearing

a/n: hello! so i didn’t mean for this to be so long lol but anyway, there will be more. once again, a song has inspired me to write. i feel like gold rush totally describes bill and so i tried to run with that. as always, i would love comments/feedback. also if you like it please reblog/follow! i want to start taking requests!

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what a cliche it would be to be hopelessly in love with bill weasley. the charming gryffindor was the poster child of his house, his year, and his family. don't get it twisted, it wasn't that he didn't deserve all the praise; he was kind to younger students, witty in his classes, and bloody brilliant in your shared defense against the dark arts class. you just found it a little funny that everyone he met instantly fell in love with him. how could you take someone like that seriously?

"so you really don't think he's cute?" your friend, rose, asked you as you entered the great hall, the smell of fresh bread and pumpkin juice temporarily distracting you.

"no, that's actually not what i said. he's quite fit, it's just think people make too much of a big deal about it. sometimes i think you'll wet yourself when he looks at you in the corridor." you threw yourself down at your table and started reaching for the pile of sandwiches in the middle of the table. if you two wanted to make it to the beginning of the gryffindor vs ravenclaw game, this would have to be a quick lunch.

"well it's not everyday you see an arse like that in the corridor!" rose says. taken aback by her forward statement, you shove her shoulder, "gross, rose." after a few more minutes of conversation and inappropriate comments from rose, you down the last of your juice and pull your companion off the bench and toward the door.

you could hear cheers long before you were close to the game. after finding a spot with your house, you saw madam hooch release the snitch and the players shoot up to start following the quaffel. a flash of red hair passes in front of the stands as another weasley, charlie, flies at lightning speed.

The game was action packed, but not short. your cold muscles ached a bit as you moved them to walk into your dorm and sit on your bed. as if reading your mind, your roommates crowd into the bathroom to start the showers. you groan, knowing that at this rate, it'll be an hour before you can warm yourself with hot water. then a thought crosses your mind. the prefect bathrooms. your sister had been a prefect years before and had told you where they were, something you were silently thanking her for now. you gathered your towel and robe and slipped out of the room before anyone could ask where you were going.

The prefect bathroom was large and dimly lit, something that made it seem even colder when you walked in. on the far wall there was a myriad of knobs, all leading into a large bath that looked like it could hold your entire upper level herbology class. throwing down your stuff on a nearby bench, you rush to turn all the knobs you can, as blue, and green, and sparkling gold liquids splash into the basin along with steaming water. you slid out of your cold clothes and into the tub, hissing at the difference in temperature between your skin and the water. the water was heavenly and you sunk in until your shoulders were under the water, pulling your hair up from the nape of your neck so not to wet it. the room had filled with the scent of lavender and honeysuckle, and you closed your eyes to take it in.

suddenly there was a creak that you immediately recognized as the door opening. 'fuck, fuck, fuck,' you thought. you could chance jumping out and hoping the person didn't see you naked or you could wait to get caught. you decided that your clothes were too far, and started frantically ushering as many bubbles to you as possible, trying to cover your body. you turn your back to the entrance just as you see the shadow of someone begin to round the corner.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry i didn't realize someone was in here." you wanted to curl up into a human ball of embarrassment. not only did the voice belong to a boy, but you knew exactly which boy it belonged to, and it rhymed with will beasley. unsure of how to respond, you just let out a nervous laugh, not wanting to let your voice give you away as someone who was definitely not a prefect.

"okay, well... i'll just come back later." you waited until you could no longer hear footsteps to climb out of the tub. once dry and wrapped in your fluffy robe, you reentered the hallway, but only after sticking your head out to make sure bill wasn't waiting by the door. as you walked back to your dorm, you could only begin to imagine all the teasing rose would give you when she found out he had seen you in the bath. luckily, by the time you cocooned yourself in your comforter, she was already asleep. you would have to tell her in the morning, or maybe you wouldn't.

by breakfast the three days later, the bath incident had left your mind. after the first 24 hours, you felt sure bill hadn't suspected anything, and even if he did, there was no way he could tell who the student in the bath was. you had to pause with the spoon of porridge halfway between your bowl and your mouth, because rose's impression of flitwick had made you burst into laughter. an owl fluttered down in front of you, dropping an envelope with your mother's handwriting on the front. you ripped it open and began to read.

"Dear y/n,

Hello love, I hope you're doing well with all of your classes this term. I'm writing to tell you that we'll be spending part of the Easter holiday with one of my friends and her family. Her name is Molly and she has two sons at hogwarts. Be sure to say hello to them, Molly says they're nice boys. The three of you can leave school together to travel home for break. I miss you dearly and can't wait to hear about your term in person.

love always,

mum"

rose put her chin on my shoulder to read the letter. "i didn't know your mum was friends with the weasley's," she giggled, obviously thinking about bill. "yeah, well that makes two of us." to be honest, you never really realized your mum had close friends. there was no reason for her not to, it had just never occurred to you that your parents were people outside of being your parents.

"actually, it makes four of us," you whipped around to see bill and charlie, a letter you assumed was similar to yours grasped in bill's hand. "my mum wrote they met here as kids and ran into each other a few weeks ago in diagon alley." his easy smile was attractive and his hair fell effortlessly into place, with one soft strand too short to be pushed behind his ear. it looked almost like someone had written it in, it was so perfectly placed.

"wicked," escaped rose's lips as a strained whisper. you elbowed her, praying that she would come to her senses and start acting like a real person.

"listen, i got to run to practice, but let's meet in the main entrance tomorrow morning, yeah? 10am?" charlie butt in, reaching around his brother to grab a banana off your table and without waiting for even a nod, turned to catch up with the rest of his team at the other end of hall.

"sorry about him, he's..." bill was suddenly looking down at you with a slightly funny expression, a small grin on his face.

"preoccupied?" you finish his sentence, marking the first words you've said since he approached you.

"yeah," then, he leans down close enough that only you can hear him when he says, "next time you go for a soak, i suggest trying the orange blossom bubbles," maintaining eye contact with you the whole time.

taken aback, you feel yourself get blush and lean back, your brow furrowed, "what? how did you-"

"i didn't realize you were so interested in astronomy, y/n," he says a little louder, standing back to his tall figure and casually tapping the back of his neck.

you mimic his motion and remember the small tattoo of a moon that sat at where your neck met your shoulders. you close your eyes and cover them with one hand. maybe if you shut your eyes hard enough and clicked your heals he would disappear. or even better, you would. "i'll see you tomorrow," he sent another cheeky smile and turned to walk away, hands in his pocket, laughing quietly to himself.

"um... what the fuck," rose spoke, making you realize you were still watching his back. "what was that about? how does he know about your tattoo?"

"he might've walked in on my while i was bathing a few days ago," you said, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

"WHAT?!" it was even louder than you expected. honestly, you loved rose but bringing attention to herself, and by proxy, you, was something she had a knack for, but not in an endearing way.

"would you calm down please? everyone was taking too long in the showers so i went to the prefects' bathroom and he came in. he only saw my back so i didn't think he knew who it was, but i forgot to account for moony back there," you rolled your eyes, how could you forget about something that you had chosen to put on your body forever?

"merlin, that's so not fair, do you know what i would give to be seen naked by bill weasley?" once again, you were slightly horrified by a comment made by your best friend. this is what you didn't understand about everyone's fascination surrounding bill. even as he walked away, you had noticed a handful of other students following him with their eyes. it was a fact that bill was attractive, beautiful even, but the way people would do anything for his attention freaked you out. being treated like that had to go to someone's head eventually.

"okay, that's enough of that. i'm just glad he didn't give me detention or something," you went back to your breakfast, although you were no longer very hungry.

the journey to the weasley's cottage by the sea was uneventful. in the morning, you boarded the hogwarts express with charlie and bill. you didn't speak much, but read a book in your shared compartment while charlie talked to bill non-stop about the latest quidditch techniques. "and i've been reading about dragons, and how they fly, and i think it would be really cool to try some of their flying patterns on a broom. it would be really hard and i'd have to make a few adjustments, because obviously i'm not a huge majestic creature, but if it worked, it'd be brilliant!" you looked up to see charlie on the edge of his seat, trying to mark some of the flying patterns, and looking intently at bill, as if waiting for him to be just as excited. "that sounds great, charlie, really. how did you start on about dragons?" bill quickly caught your eye and tried to share some of the amusement his brother brought him. "hagrid gave me a book, they're really something, bill."

your party gets off at king's cross, and you followed the older boy through the station, until he stops in front of a women's toilet. "uh, i think the men's is over there," you said pointing behind you. charlie laughed. "hah," bill faked a monotone laugh, "there's a portkey inside that will take us to shell cottage. dad said it was a," he looked down at a paper in his hand, "toilet brush. lovely. right, we have three minutes until it leaves. ladies first." he gestured and you entered the room. it was somewhat cramped with the three of you and your trunks, but in the corner was a white, and thankfully clean looking, toilet brush. you grabbed it and held it out for the others to hold on too. after about 10 seconds of waiting, you felt your body being pulled up and then like you had just jumped off a high diving board at a pool. falling, but strangely still feeling like you were upright. before long, your feet hit solid ground again, well somewhat solid ground. the sand made your landing shaky, as it moved under your weight. you looked up and saw a cozy house with warm light glowing from the windows.

after lots of introductions and even more hugs, you finally settled yourself in to a guest room. the view was beautiful. the sun was just starting to set over the sea, the orange hues reflecting off the vast water. putting away the last of your things, you walked down the stairs and announced to your mum and molly that you would be going on a walk. they nodded and made you promise to be back for dinner before returning to their conversation. as soon as you got to the beach, you slipped off your shoes and feel the cool sand swallow each of your toes. it was crisp, but not too cold. you walk for a bit and then sit down on a dune, just taking in the picture the world had created for you.

you see a figure walking toward you and, as it gets closer, you notice it's bill. "mind if i join you?" he asked.

"of course not," you watched him as he sat. "it's beautiful here, your family has a really lovely house."

"thanks, mum has a talent for making any place feel like home." he looked out at the water, but for some reason you kept looking at his face, trying to find details. bill felt your gaze and his eyes met yours. normally, you would've looked away, but a new confidence allowed me to hold his eye contact. "so, tell me more about your tattoo." you chuckled, you should've known it would come up at some point or another.

"i got it with rose on holiday using fake muggle IDs," you explained.

"any special meaning behind it?" he asked, his eyes were now flickering from yours to your neck.

"nope, just liked the art," it was true, you knew you wanted to get a tattoo but didn't want something that held too much weight, so you got something that was simply beautiful.

"that's cool," he said, reaching to touch it with his index finger, "did it hurt?" you shivered at the contact and he pulled away, "sorry."

"no, that's okay," you said turning slightly away from him so he could see it better and indicating that he could touch it. he went back to tracing it with his finger, leaning in to get a closer look. "it didn't hurt as much as i thought it would. but now that you've seen it, it's only fair that you tell me if you have any secret tattoos."

you heard him laugh, "obviously, i've just got the gryffindor lion across my chest, nothing crazy," he joked. you smiled and turned back to him.

"seems very fitting for you."

"oh yeah?"

"charismatic prefect, brave older brother, top of our DADA class? if you were any more gryffindor-y you'd be called godrick," you poked fun at him and leaned back to lay down.

"merlin, you make me sound unbearable."

"well–" you start to trail off only to feel a foot hit your knee, just hard enough to show playful anger. "alright, alright, kidding!"

"do you know what you want to do after school?" he asked, also lowering himself to the ground, but staying propped up on one elbow, his body turned to you.

"not exactly, i really like herbology and history of magic, so maybe find a job where i can study how wizards lived in the past? like how they used plants and stuff" it was something you had thought a lot about, but hadn't really found an answer that fit well.

"you'd be great at that." you shot him a skeptical look. "what? it's not hard to notice you're brilliant in herbology. sprout has you practically teaching half the lessons." you felt a blush spread across your cheeks, and felt thankful that the sunlight was starting to dim. you hadn't even realized you two shared that class, you were always more occupied in the nearest plant.

"what about you?"

"something to do with defense against the dark arts, mcgonagall told me about a career in curse breaking that sounds good. i think it'd allow me to travel, which is a plus."

"that sounds amazing," you say, your mind whisking you away to all the places you wanted to see.

"you can come and visit me, wherever i am." bill chuckled, letting another heart-breaker grin fall into place on his lips.

"and what makes you think we'll keep in touch after we leave hogwarts?" the tone turning back to a lighter banter. you push yourself up onto your elbows

"well, for one thing, our mums. but i also just have a feeling." you're betrayed by your cheeks heating up again. you look into his eyes and find sincerity. they're a deep blue, almost like they've been taken from the nearby water. once again you're reminded of his handsomeness, but this time it's a little different. maybe it's because you've talked more and he's shown you the things he's taken time to notice in you. but his beauty feels warmer. like it was only for you, like it could engulf you. you can see he's started to move closer, and you start to mirror his actions. your eyes move from his to his lips and the light stubble that runs along his jaw, and back again to his eyes. "can i...?" you close your eyes and start to nod, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours, until, "kids! dinner!" and just like that, the moment is ruined. the two of you open your eyes and put space between yourselves. you clear your throat and stand up, brushing sand off of your legs.

"we should get back," you say.

"uh, yeah, totally." he says, also standing and following you back to the house.

on the walk back, you make sure to stay a few steps ahead of bill to allow yourself some time to think. what had just happened? did you like bill? surely it was just a weird moment following a minor existential crisis about the future right? you should just forget about it and try to focus on spending time with you family the rest of the trip.

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coffee-imagines · 4 years

Text

Wrong Houses Pt 2

part one

Pairing: Draco x weasley!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I wasn’t sure what I was going to do for this but then I got an idea and got excited so here we go :) I’m glad a lot of you liked the first part. Also can we talk about how iconic Molly’s howler to Ron is in the movie?

Summary: After a letter home an unexpected surprise arrives during lunch

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You’d started crying the second your face hit your pillow, the feelings from the past five years hitting you all at once. You felt overwhelmed, your body shaking when your cries turned to sobs. There was no way you could go home now, not after what Ron had told you. You felt like a bother to your family, and inconvenience that they had to deal with because of your differences. The sound of footsteps made you hide your face deeper into the pillow and try to calm your shaking, thinking one of your dormmates had come back to get something.

“Y/N.” Draco’s voice filled your ears, his hand softly touching your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, knowing you would only cry harder. “I’m here, it’s okay.” He assured you, helping you sit up before he pulled you in for a hug. You clung to him, crying into his neck while he whispered reassurances in your ear and rubbed your back. It had taken a while but you finally stopped shaking, your tears falling silently, hitting Draco’s neck and sliding down wetting the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t… I don’t want to...” You stuttered out, trying to find your words but Draco shushed you, playing with your hair to try and calm you down fully before you tried speaking again. You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes trying to focus on Draco instead of everything else. “I don’t want to go home.” You whispered in his neck. “I don’t ever want to go back home.” You sniffed, hugging Draco tighter.

“You don’t have to. My parents actually like you. I’m sure if I write a letter home my mom will let you stay with us.” Draco explained and you nodded, pulling your head away from his neck. Draco’s heart clenched when he saw your tear stained face, the complexion of your skin almost matching your red hair, your nose even redder and your bottom lip still quivering. “You’re going to be okay.” Draco reassured you, leaning down to kiss the tears away. You closed your eyes, and a small smile made its way on your face when Draco softly kissed your eyelids.

“I’m going to write a letter to my parents. They should know I’m not going to come home.” You explained softly and Draco nodded in agreement.

You took a deep breath, reaching over in all of your belongings to get a paper and a quill. It took a while before the quill touched the paper. You were trying to find the right words to say. Writing the letter didn’t make you happy, it hadn’t been like you really wanted to leave your family, but at this point you felt like it was the only way it would make them happy and stop worrying about how you turned out. There wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t feel guilty about how everything had turned out, and you refused to spend the rest of your life being reminded of something that was out of your control.

Molly and Arthur Weasley,

I know I don’t normally write home, but I have something important to tell the both of you that just can’t wait. I have suspected that I have been a disappointment to this family since my first day here at Hogwarts, and according to Ron’s words my suspicions are correct. It hurts to think that I have ruined the legacy of my own family and not been sorted into what we perceive to be the correct house. Although I’ve also upset everyone with my relationship with the Malfoy’s son, that I won’t apologize for. I refuse to apologize for something that makes me happy, but I will apologize for the mistake that was made by me being sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like the rest of the family.

I unfortunately cannot change the past, but I will take it upon myself to change the future and not continue to burden everyone in the family with my presence. I will hopefully be staying with the Malfoy family, but if not then I will find another way. I no longer feel like I am a part of this family, and although I haven’t for a while, being called a disappointment to my face is where I have to draw the line. It doesn’t bring me any pleasure writing this letter. It pains me that I will have to leave my family, because although I care about all of you greatly, I guess that doesn’t go both ways. Any of my things that Ginny can use she can have, but the rest I will give to the twins to sell in order to help them with their plans for the future. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the child you wanted and I’m sorry that things had to turn out the way they did. I will miss all of you greatly, but I understand if you don’t feel the same toward me.

Good wishes always, Y/N Weasley

Your hand shook while you wrote, the words coming out in shaky lines, some tears falling onto the page that made the ink smear. You sniffed and bit your lip to keep yourself from balling all over again, squeezing your eyes shut when Draco placed his hand on your back.

“Don’t touch me.” You whispered softly and shook your head. You were trying too hard to keep it together, but you knew if he tried comforting you you’d only break down again and let it all out. Draco’s hand moved away from you and you let out the breath you were holding. Clearing your throat and wiping your face you stood up, grabbing an envelope you folded the letter silently before slipping it in. You wrote everything you needed down on the front and you turned to Draco. “Come with me?” You asked, your eyes soft showing how much you’d actually been hurting, but your face almost looked as though you hadn’t been crying, the only thing giving you away was your puffy eyes.

Draco nodded and stood up, walking as close to you as you allowed him. All the way to the owlery you would move a bit away anytime Draco brushed against you, walking in silence. You had nothing else to say, wanting to forget about everything with your family, you even went as far as thinking about changing your hair a different color so you wouldn’t resemble any of your family members, but you knew you couldn’t. A small pit formed in your stomach when you watched the owl take off with your letter, but you took a breath and brushed off the feeling, finally grabbing Draco’s hand when you both walked back to the Slytherin common room.

That night Draco had sent an owl home to his mom about your situation, asking if you’d be able to stay and start living with them for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. The following days you’d avoided your siblings like the plague, especially Ron. You were lucky enough to only have one class with your brother, and you both sat on opposite ends of the room. You’d felt his eyes on you during class, but you never looked in his direction, wanting to put as much distance between you and your family that you possibly could. You wanted to get used to them not being in your life anymore, and not living with you anymore. This had been the only time you were happy to be a Slytherin, being in different houses making it easier to not see them. The only time you had to actually see your brother’s were at Quidditch games, and you were glad that those were the only times, knowing you wouldn’t have been able to handle anything more.

Everything had started taking its toll on you, every day you would be mentally exhausted, a heavy weight seeming to hold you down. Draco wasn’t the only one who had noticed this, your entire house could see it, and it only made the rival between the Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s thicken. Slytherin’s had always stuck by their own through anything and you’d definitely proved how much you belonged in your house over the years, shocking even the people who had thought the hat had messed up your first year.

You were resting against Draco’s side, picking at the food on your plate. You’d lost most of your appetite, usually eating when Draco would be with you, but today had felt different. It had been hard throughout the past few days, and the second you’d gotten up in the morning you felt more exhausted than you ever had before. You smiled softly when Draco started playing with your hair and you finally decided to start eating when you felt your stomach grumble softly. You kept your head on Draco’s chest while you ate, wishing you’d been able to stay in the common room with him instead. Owls started flying overhead but you ignored them, not expecting any mail to come from home since it never did.

“Ronald Weasley!” Your mother’s voice filled the great hall making your head shoot up from your plate. You watched in amazement, your family owl flying over and sitting on you after dropping a letter in your hand. “How dare you speak to your sister that way! I am absolutely disgusted! I want an explanation sent home and an apology to your sister right this instant! If I hear anything from her about you again I’ll have you brought straight home!” Your mother yelled in your brother’s face and your face turned red in embarrassment. The howler turned to the rest of your sibling but you drowned it out, looking down and opening the letter that had been dropped in your hands.

Y/N,

Don’t you even think about leaving. Your father and I care about you dearly, and we do not agree with what your brother has said. We will have a discussion as a family when you all come home for the summer. Let me know if they give you any more trouble.

Love, Mom

You smiled down at the letter in your hand. Although short, it had everything you needed to hear in it. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard all the Slytherin’s around you laughing, pulling your attention to the Howler that had barely finished scolding all of your siblings. Ron had been walking across the hall almost in shame, almost every student laughing to themselves at the scene they had just witnessed. You watched anxiously, wondering if he was going to come over and make your mother’s words seem like nothing. The rest of the Slytherin’s watched with you, surely making Ron’s nerves way worse because of all the eyes that had been on him. You’d been surprised to even see the teachers watching the scene before them.

“Y/N listen.” Ron started, rubbing the back of his neck, his face already red. “I’m sorry for being a prat. I was upset and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He explained, your attention averting to the sea of red hair that had been making their way over. “We all don’t care that you’re in Slytherin. It’s just weird to us, and we need time to get use-” He continued but you cut him off.

“Five years isn’t enough?” You asked softly, biting the inside of your cheek. You felt overwhelmed, feeling too many things at once made your bottom lip threaten to quiver.

“We don’t mind it.” The twins explained and Ginny agreed next to them. You knew they hadn’t cared, but hearing it seemed to make you feel a bit better. You turned your attention to Ron, waiting for his explanation.

“We used to do everything together, then we came here and separated and I didn’t like it.” Ron explained, shocking you. “I know I should have talked to you about it instead of pushing you away all these years but I never knew how. I just wanted my sister back, but instead I pushed you away and hurt you instead and for that I am sorry. Really.” Ron apologized, making you nod slowly.

“Thank you.” You whispered, looking down at your lap trying to think. “I need time.” You explained looking back up to Ron.

“How much?” He asked hopefully, and you bit back a smile.

“I’d say about five years.” You tried saying seriously, but you and your other siblings ended up laughing at the look on Ron’s face. They turned to walk away and you nodded to Ron, knowing the both of you would most likely talk later that day.

“My mom said you can come stay with us whenever you need to if you still want.” Draco explained breaking the silence, holding a letter you hadn’t noticed before.

“I don’t think I will just yet.” You smiled, watching your sibling walking back to the Gryffindor table turning and kissing Draco’s cheek softly.

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Tag list: Let me know if you’d like to be added

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evening-starlight · 3 years

Text

Daddy’s Best Friend

I tried posting this three times and each time Tumblr crashed so we’re trying again. woohoo

Master List

Word Count: 1498

Amaris smoothes down her dress as a knock sounds from her closed door. Tom walks in after Amaris invites him in. "Your dad sent me to come fetch you." He stops in the doorway, looking at the woman in front of him dressed in a dark red, sleeveless dress. She rolls her eyes with a groan.

"Thank God it's you," Amaris says, holding out her arms and doing a slow twirl. "Do I look well enough for the party?" Tom's throat runs dry, and his mind races with all the thoughts he's been trying to ignore the last two weeks.

"Breath-taking, Darling." Amaris smiles at the compliment. "C'mon, your dad's waiting." Tom offers his arm to guide Amaris into the backyard, where William had set up a welcoming home party for her. "You ready?" Tom asks as they reach the back door.

The look Amaris shoots up at Tom conveys every annoyance she feels. Tom laughs and has security opens the french doors. Applause erupt as Amaris steps out, her arm on Tom's and a fake smile plastered on her face.

Amaris would rather be anywhere else but here, in anything else but this. But she'll stand there and greet her dad's colleges and make conversation with the old men for her dad. She did a lot of things for her dad, for his company she's set to inherit. Not that he ever asked her to, but Will went into a deep depression after her mom died, and Amaris was the first to help pull him out. She would do anything to make her father smile like he used to.

"Amy," an awful, nasally voice screeches from across the lawn. Cleo Hubert, Amaris's 'best friend.' Amaris fakes yet another smile and hugs the woman. They met in junior high, where Cleo sucked on like a leech on Amaris's riches. She couldn't quite shake Cleo off, no matter how many times she's tried. Cleo didn't try to come visit Amaris in Paris either. That year was the best year of their friendship.

Cleo had a habit of being a total bitch at parties, so Amaris steered her away from her father's high-end clientele. "Hey, Cleo," Amaris greet through gritted teeth. "I thought you were still in Rome?"

"Well, Daddy William invited me home because he knows how much you love me," She squeals, throwing her arms around Amaris's shoulders with a leg pop. Amaris finds Tom's eyes and mouths for help. Tom looks away with a wicked smirked and goes back to talking with Juno. That asshole. "I'm so glad you're home, Amy Boo. You left me here all alone." Cleo pouts, hands still on Amaris's shoulders. "I missed you so much."

"Cleo, I've told you many times, I don't like being called Amy. You're allowed to call me Amaris or Mari." Cleo lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing her head back.

"Amy, baby, you know I call you Amy because I can't say my 'r's." Amaris removes Cleo's hands and holds them between the two women.

"I'm delighted you showed up, but I need to get back to the party. I'll call you later, okay?" Cleo waves a hand in Amaris's face.

"Don't worry, girly. I'll just be over there getting a drink, finding myself a sugar daddy." Before Amaris can stop her, Cleo skips off to the open bar. Tom appears next to the worried Amaris.

Tom laughs as Amaris smacks his chest. "You're a mother fucker, Tom Hiddleston. I can't believe you left me with that." She gestures to the woman getting a pink alcohol drink. Tom's arm finds its way over her shoulder like it belonged there as he chuckles.

"You think I wanted to deal with her? She's the definition of a hot mess." They watch as Cleo downs her drink and asks for another in a minute flat. "Jesus, I'll fix it," He sighs as she starts to chug the second drink.

Amaris's eyes travel down Tom's back, focusing on the tight-fitting pants and the way his legs go on for days. She heads back to the small group of businessmen she left, picking up the conversation where it's at.

Tom's attention slowly drifts from Cleo over to Amaris. The way her white teeth glisten in the sun as she laughs at the jokes being thrown around and the way that the red dress adorning her body hugs in the right places, accentuating her curves. She looks nothing less than ravishing. Tom orders two old fashions, one for him and the girl he can't get off his mind, while Cleo talks his ear off about something he could care less about.

Amaris smiles as Tom hands her the drink, slipping his arm around her waist as he joins the conversation. She leans up to whisper in his ear, "Did you take care of Cleo?" Tom curses and leaves once again to take care of Amaris's stupid friend, who ruins everything for him.

While babysitting Cleo, Tom drinks a bit more than he was planning on. So he ends up retreating inside the house to calm down and drink some water. Tom doesn't hear anyone come in behind him, only jumping when someone sets a hand on his shoulder while he fills up a cup in the sink. "Jesus," He curses, turning to see who frightened him.

"Had a little much there, Tommy?" Amaris asks, a teasing smile gracing her beautiful features. She looked so wonderful standing there, hand on Tom and smile genuine. He continues to look her over, admiring how breathtaking she really looked. How had he not seen this before? She was his perfect girl, standing right in front of him. Maybe he was just drunk. He reminds himself. "Woah, Tom." Amaris laughs, reaching across him to turn off the tap as water overflows onto Tom's hand. "Let's get you downstairs to calm down, yeah?"

"I'd like that," Tom replies, taking a drink from his filled cup before leaning into Amaris. She giggles and helps him down the stairs, into the basement where guests weren't allowed. "You know?" Tom slurs once Amaris drops him on the couch in the downstairs lounge.

"What?" Amaris laughs as she bends down to help Tom get his shoes off. He stops to look over her ass, which looks perfect from his drunken perspective. He remembers his train of thought when Amaris sits next to him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're not a kid anymore. You've really grown into yourself." Amaris laughs as Tom leans over to rest his head on her shoulder. She runs a hand through his hair, keeping him grounded. "I'm sorry I got drunk at your party," Tom apologizes.

"Don't be. I was ready to be done anyways. I saw you come inside and took my chance to dip. So really, I should be thanking you." Tom nods, eyebrows pull together as he nods, sitting up to look at her.

"Exactly, you're welcome." Amaris laughs and pats his knee. "You're beautiful," He adds, raking his eyes over her again. Amaris blushes and thanks him quietly. "You know? Since you've been back, I've been baffled. Honestly? You came back a totally different girl," Tom stops himself and shakes his head. "Woman. You're a lovely woman, Amaris."

"Well, thank you, Tom. I appreciate your honesty."

"Can I be honest again?" He asks, leaning in closer to Amaris and whispering. Amaris nods, a small smile on those beautiful pink lips of hers. Tom leans all the way in, kissing her. She lets out a small squeak before kissing him back. This was everything she wanted since she was sixteen. But he was drunk. Amaris pulls away and sets a hand on Tom's chest to stop him from coming closer.

"You're drunk." She whispers.

"Drunk words and sober thoughts," Tom remarks, eyes hooded as he looks at her. She felt like the only person in the world with the way Tom focused his drunk attention on her. Amaris always wanted to be that girl to Tom, but not like this. He was drunk and taking advantage of that for her own gains would be wrong.

Tom lays his head back on her shoulder. "Get some sleep, Tom." She whispers, running a hand through his hair while he starts to nod off. William meets Amaris upstairs after she tucks Tom in on the couch downstairs.

"You alright, Owl? You look like you've seen a ghost." He asks as he pulls her into a quick side hug.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine, just feeling a tad tired. Tom passed out downstairs after babysitting Cleo all night." William laughs and shakes his head. "Why'd you invite her?"

"I promise you I did no such thing. I can't trust her around my clients." He laughs. "Must have gotten word from her mother. You know, the city gossips." Will and Amaris laugh together as they make their way back outside as the sun starts to set to finish out the last hour of the party.

Taglist: @queenofallhobos

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #i got 99 problems and tom hiddleston could fix everyone of them #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #love #romance #affair #paris #love affair #study abroad story

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princessofravenclaw · 3 years

Text

Time Changes

Paring: Draco Malfoy x Reader && Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: This is my first EVER imagine/fanfic so pls be nice!! I’ve had this idea for a while but haven’t ever actually done anything about it. I’ve got more ideas to continue but we’ll start with this. If there’s spelling/grammar problems, don’t come for me!! Ya girl is not an English major. This is based off the “19 years later” but doesn’t follow that story line!

Italics is a flashback!!

September 1st. Walking into King’s Cross Station brought back a flood of fond memories. You remembered the first time you ever entered those doors. You had grown up hearing all of the beautiful things Hogwarts offered from both of your magical parents. The day you received your Hogwarts letter was the best day of your life. Now, here you were, hand in hand with your husband and three children, sending off your oldest and middle child to start their journey at the magical school. How lucky were you? You had married one of your childhood best friends, Harry Potter. Though you two never looked at each other as romantic partners until after Hogwarts, you loved being his wife. The two of you had been blessed with two boys and a girl. Today, the family of five would be downgrading to three, as James and Albus would be boarding the Hogwarts Express. You would still have your sweet Lily with the two of you at home. You stood back with your daughter as Harry helped calm Albus’s nerves. James had already said his goodbyes and boarded the train with his friends. Hermione and Ron would be sending off their daughter, Rose, this year. They engulfed her in hugs, saying their goodbyes. You watched fondly as you ran your fingers through Lily’s strawberry hair. “Why can’t I go with them, mummy? It’s not fair!” Lily exclaimed, breaking your gaze from your husband and son. You chuckled and leaned down to kiss her head. “You will have your chance, my love. You’ll have your letter soon.” She looked up at you, bearing her father’s bright eyes, and smiled. “I hope to be in the same house as you, mummy.” You smiled and nodded, hoping the same. You loved being a (Y/H). Albus and Rose boarded the train together, waving more goodbyes through the train window. Harry had joined you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Can you believe it, love? We only have one more to send-off.” He said before kissing your temple. You smiled and leaned into his kiss. “I just hope they don’t have to go through everything we did as kids.” Ron pipped up. “They will do great, Ron. I know it.” Hermione said, wiping a tear as she continued to wave as the train pulled away from the station.

Once the train was out of sight, you all began heading back to the exit when a pair of cold, grey eyes met yours. A pair that you had not seen or wanted to see in many years. The pair that belonged to Draco Malfoy. What was he doing here?! Your husband felt you tense up, stopping to look down at you. He followed your eyes and saw exactly what was causing the problem. He knew of your history with the Slytherin blonde boy. You loathed him from the minute you saw him your first year. He constantly bullied Harry and your friends, jealous of Harry’s fame. Things began to change, however, during your fourth year. Draco had been dared to ask you to the Yule Ball by his fellow housemates. He accepted, wanting to make the night terrible for you. You accepted his terrible invitation, as you couldn’t find a date and you had a slight feeling there was something more to the invite.

“Are you mental (Y/N)?! You’re seriously going to take Draco’s invite to the ball?!” Hermione shouted. You silenced her immediately, not wanting Harry or Ron to find out, at least not yet. “Well, I don’t exactly have a date, Hermione. I wasn’t lucky enough to get someone like Viktor.” You didn’t mean it to sound hurtful, part of it was jealousy, as every girl wished the Tri-Wizard Champion had asked them. You looked at your long, black ballgown in the mirror, running your hands down the front out of nerves. You picked black for two reasons, one, you always loved the color on you, and two, you felt the color matched Draco’s cold heart. “Ready, then?” Hermione asked, breaking you from your trance. Nodding, you spun around and headed for the Great Hall. As the two of you approached the Great Hall, you could hear Draco and his idiotic friends laughing. You rolled your eyes, asking yourself why you decided to do this. Harry and Ron stood at the bottom of the stairs, Ron catching a glimpse of Hermione first, leaving him speechless. Harry followed his gaze and also became silent. The two of you smiled and began the descent down the stairwell. You looked over to the opposite side as your two best friends to where Draco stood. ‘He does clean up nice', you thought. Making eye contact, he stops mid-sentence with Crabbe and Goyle. You notice his Adam's apple bob up and down, indicating a hard swallow. Hesitantly, you separated from Hermione and approached the Slytherin boys. “What in the bloody hell is she doing?” you heard Ron ask the two other friends. Hermione just patted his shoulder before locking arms with Viktor, also surprising Harry and Ron. Draco let his eyes run up and down your figure, taking you in. “(Y/N) ... you look…wow…” Draco said, stumbling over his words. Did Draco Malfoy just compliment you? Chuckling, you looked down at you dress. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself.” He stepped closer, putting an arm out for you to grab, “Shall we?” As you picked up you dress with one hand, you looped the other through Draco’s as he led you into the beautifully lit Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle stood amazed, glancing between each other and the two of you confused. Yes, they were part of the dare, but they didn’t think it would play out like this.

While Draco isn’t a dancer, you two did manage to slow dance to a few songs. Draco was a true gentleman when placing his hand on your side and holding your hand with the other. This surprised you, knowing the reputation his family has for being so cold. “I really did mean what I said, (Y/N). You look amazing.” He whispered in your ear. Feeling the coolness of his minty breath sent chills down your spine. You could not understand why; did you feel something for Draco deep down? “Thank you, Draco. So, was this truly a dare, or did you want to go with me?” He flashed a smile. “Even if it was a dare, I think it’s worked out pretty well, don’t you?” he teased.

After that day, you began to share lingering stares during classes and in passing in the halls. Soon, those lingering glances became notes passed during class, which lead to sneaking out of the common rooms late at night. The two of you had kept what you had under wraps, knowing how much would be coming your way if the school found out. All anyone knew, except Hermione, was that you two attended the Ball together, and even that was a ‘dare’. Your relationship began to fall apart during the sixth year, however. His family had pressured him to become a Death Eater, now baring the dark mark on his inner forearm. You despised it. Watching it move on his arm made you physically ill. You knew he had been put up for a ‘special mission’ from Voldemort, but he could never tell you what it was. You found out, though, after seeing Professor Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy Tower that night. Draco had ran off with his parents and other Death Eaters, not returning to finish the school term. Once the term had been completed, you joined together with your three best friends to find the remaining Horcruxes. Your parents weren’t thrilled you would not be returning for your final and seventh year, but there was a war that needed to be fought.

Draco stood near the exit of King’s Cross, wearing one of his famous all-black suits. His hair is still as striking blonde as you remembered. Facial features the same, just a little more aged. A woman stood slightly behind them. You recognized her as Astoria Greengrass, a fellow Slytherin. You remembered her from school, and she always stayed a little too close to Draco for your liking. Did they have a child the same age as one of your boys? “C’mon, love, let’s get Lily home,” Harry said, placing his hand in the small of your back and kissing your temple again. You loved it when he did that. Harry was always so caring and affectionate towards you, even after all these years. Draco watched the interaction, making you wonder if he even knew you ended up with Harry. Surely, he knew.

Ginny had tried to run towards Harry during that final battle in the courtyard as he dangled from Hagrid’s arms. Voldemort cast a spell her way, knocking her back and causing her head to hit a rock. She was carried inside the castle so Madam Pomfrey could help. She tried everything, but Ginny was gone. It took a long time for Harry to mourn and return to normal. He truly loved her. You suffered as well, not in the same extreme as Harry, but still in a poor mental state. You ignored Draco’s letters. Draco and his mother had managed to avoid Azkaban; however, his father wasn’t so lucky and was sentenced again. Eventually, Draco’s owls became more and more spaced out until they stopped coming altogether. Your father offered to burn his letters, as you refused even to open them. You decided not to, instead shoving them in a bin hidden from sight. Hermione and Ron became tired of seeing their two other best friends so depressed and decided to invite yourself and Harry to dinner one night. Once all together, it was as if nothing had changed and no time had elapsed. Ron and Hermione were very happy and very much in love, leaving yourself and Harry out. The two of you vowed to keep in touch better, as you both worked at the Ministry together, different departments, but still. You two shared your hardships and struggles, finding comfort in one another. One thing leads to another, and now you sit holding his hand with three beautiful children.

The following morning was bizarre. Not hearing the bickering of the boys was strange. The house felt empty and quiet, which is something that you had not had in ages. You would now have to practice only making breakfast for three instead of five. After Lily was dropped off at your parents for the day, the two of you headed to the Ministry to start your workday. Harry could tell you were still thrown off by the events from the previous day. “I’m fine, really.” You said, squeezing his hand. “I have a hard time believing you, (Y/N). He can’t hurt you now. It’s been ages.” He said, trying to reassure you. “I know, just seeing him brought back so much.” “It’ll be alright, love. All of that is in the past. You’ve got me now, know it?” Harry leaned in and pecked your lips. “Come get me if you need me today, okay?” Harry said, walking in a different direction than you were. Harry worked as an Auror, and you worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures along with Hermione.

Walking into your office, you said hello to your receptionist. “Mrs. Potter, your first appointment is already in your office.” She stated bubbly. You looked at her puzzled. “I thought my first meeting was much later?” you questioned. She looked as confused as you. Taking a deep sign, you walked into your office and was in disbelief at what stood by the window. Draco. How did he find me? He turned to face me as soon as he heard my bag hit the floor. “Draco, you need to leave.” You said as firmly as you could. All you wanted to do was scream for Harry, but his department was on the complete opposite side of the Ministry from you. “Don’t.” Draco spat. “I needed to speak with you.” He continued. “And I need you to leave before I call someone.” He laughed. “Oh, is your Potter going to come to save you? He’s already taken you away from me once, and I won’t let him do it again.” He said before reaching into his suit pocket. You stood there, not knowing what he was planning to do. Draco pulls out what looks to be like a Time-Turner. Hermione used one during our third year to ensure she was able to take all of her classes. It was said all of those devices in existence were destroyed. How did Draco get his slimy hands on one? “How-how did you...” you trailed off, your mind racing as to what his plan was. “A gift from my father. The only one left. You know how this works, right (Y/N)?” he said, stepping closer to you. “Draco…” you started, but before you could push him away, the extended chain was draped around your neck along with Draco’s. His fingers moved the locket quickly before you could think or do anything.

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#draco malfoy imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #imagine #fanfiction

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panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

odd one out {draco malfoy x reader}

Words: 11.3k

Summary: You’re known as the only Weasley without magic. Draco Malfoy has always taken great pleasure in teasing you for this, and you have always been ready with a retort. Your bickering with the Malfoy boy has gone on for years, but is it all done in bad blood?

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - i can’t stop writing for Harry Potter and that’s really just what you’re all gonna have to put up with.

---

You don’t want to be here.

You don’t belong here, as you’ve been reminded a grand number of times throughout your seventeen years of living. To these people, you are nothing more than the unlucky one, a mistake. To these people, you are weaker.

The halls of Hogwarts aren’t exactly unfamiliar to you, despite being the only person in your household who never properly attended. You’ve been here many times throughout your life, visiting sick family members, accompanying your parents when they don’t trust you enough to leave you at the Burrow.

It’s your twin brother, Ron, who is in need now.

When you walk into the infirmary, he’s sitting up. Your mother squeals, throwing herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as you and your dad approach in a slow and careful manner, not wanting to startle Ron any more than Molly has already managed.

But even as you walk in and scowl at him, you can’t deny the relief that floods your system; the owl sent by McGonagall hadn’t even been fully read before Molly was slamming it down on the table, gathering her robes and telling you to get ready to leave. You had been busy doing your own school work, tucked away in the room you share with Ron during holidays, but was now barren besides your stuff.

He had been poisoned, according to your father. Nobody knows how, or by what, or by whom - just that Ron had drank something given to him by Professor Slughorn and had immediately started foaming at the mouth.

Now, however, he looks in good enough health that you don’t see it as a problem when you slip your hair tie from your wrist and flick it at him from across the room. He yells, flinching so fast he nearly takes Mum’s head off as she clings onto his neck.

Mum spins, glaring at you. “He’s ill!”

“He’s fine,” you reply, slipping onto the seat next to his bed. “How have you managed to poison yourself, then?”

Ron scowls. “I didn’t poison myself. Someone else did.”

“Who pays enough attention to you to want you dead?”

“Y/N!” Mum hisses. “At least give it a minute before you both start bickering.”

You and Ron roll your identical eyes before Ron sighs, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “None of you should be here. You know that, right? With all the stuff going on with You-Know-Who-”

Dad waves a dismissive hand. “We won’t let something like that keep us from making sure you’re okay.”

You raise your hand. “I personally said I wasn’t prepared to die just for you, but-”

“Y/N!”

But looking down at Ron, you see him smiling; you smile back. You know all too well the kind of boredom he must be feeling right now, all alone in the medical suite with nothing but his thoughts and Madame Pomfrey keeping him company. You remember all those Christmas’s when he would come home and tell you to be quiet when you complained about how lonely the house gets with everyone gone - now he knows how it feels.

Mum and Dad move on, telling Ron about how Bill sends his condolences and how the twins will be popping in soon to see him; you sit back, gazing around the room. Although you can use none of the stuff hung around you - in fact, it would most likely kill you if you tried - you know exactly what each piece of equipment does and how it is used. You reach out and gently twiddle the lid on a jar of unicorn hairs.

The door to the medical suite opens. You glance over your shoulder just as Madame Pomfrey peeks her head through the curtain, a grand smile on her rounded face.

A grand smile that falters as soon as she sees you.

This happens all the time; it’s one of the reasons you don’t like being inside Hogwarts if you can help it. You’re known by name amongst most of the staff, and none of them dislike you nor discriminate against you in any way - but they’re weird around you. They never know what to say, are never certain how much you understand compared to everyone else in your family.

“Molly, Arthur, Y/N!” Madame Pomfrey exclaims. “Minerva told me you’d all arrived a little earlier than expected.”

She shoots you yet another glance, giving you an uncomfortable smile. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you, Y/N. How is the - uh - studying going?”

Muggle studies. She wants to say Muggle studies.

“Good,” you reply, already standing up. “I’m just gonna go to the loo a quick minute. Give you more room to work around Ronald here.”

Ron reaches for your hand. “Don’t leave me with-”

“Get well soon!”

You duck out of the medical suite and into the hallways, immediately pressing your fingertips to your temples; you hate it here, hate it so much, have never felt so out of place than you do right now, and it doesn’t even make sense. You know just as much - if not more - than some of the people in this god damn school. Just because you were never able to perform any of the hocus pocus bullshit they’re able to perform doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re talking about. You grew up around it. You lived it - still live it.

You sigh and start down the hallways. You aren’t even sure where you’re going - you just know you’re not heading in the direction of the bathrooms. You pass a few people on the way, people who don’t know who you are or what you are, people who see you within the walls of Hogwarts and don’t even consider that you might not have the same abilities as them.

You smile; it might be your last chance to exchange niceties with them before they realise who you are and start avoiding you.

You turn down into another set of corridors, these ones empty as everyone filters into separate classrooms. They look quite spooky when deserted, unnaturally clean with the brick walls encasing you; you run your fingers along them, mind wandering to what it would be like to be within these hallways every single day for ten months out of the year.

A ghost swooshes over your head. You close your eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable-

“The Squib Weasley! The Squib Weasley!”

“Afternoon, Peeves. How are you?”

“All the merrier for seeing you!”

“Oh, yes. You always do enjoy taking the mick out of me.”

He swoops down and bunks your head; it doesn’t hurt too much, considering he’s a ghost, so all you do is glare at him as he kicks off the wall and bounces back up to the ceiling.

“Do a magic trick, Squib! I want to see a magic trick!” The ghost cackles, the bells on his hat jingling. “What about a nice card trick? They’re popular amongst non-wizard folk.” A storm of playing cards suddenly rain down upon you, and Peeves laughs even harder.

This is the kind of treatment you fully expect from Peeves. You look down at the puddle of cards, kicking them as you say, “I’m afraid I’m not that skilled. I can’t do any tricks, I’m afraid.”

“Useless Squib Weasley!” He bonks you on the head again. You growl, jumping up and swiping at his foot, but he merely kicks away from you, laughing even louder. “Useless Squib Weasley! Useless Squib Weasley!”

“Get out of here, you idiotic little corpse!”

Your head snaps round, blood draining from your face at the sound of that voice; you know it all too well, of course, considering it’s coming from a person you would much rather avoid.

Peeves cackles in your face one final time before vaulting down the corridor. His laughter only echoes so far before you and Draco Malfoy are left in complete silence, the only sound being his polished black shoes clicking against the marble floor as he walks towards you.

You look up at the ceiling, squeezing your eyes closed. “Malfoy.”

“Weasley.” He stops. Opening one eye, you can see he’s stopped directly beside you, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his robes, a smirk on his face. “What brings you here? I know it’s not the magic.”

“How did you figure that one out?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Mm.” You look at him. “I was visiting Ron, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business, of course.”

“One thing I never understood about you was how you can have such an attitude with someone like me.”

You raise a brow, pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Someone like you?”

He pulls his wand from his pocket and twirls it, casually, between his fingers. “A wizard.”

He says it like he’s talking to someone who has never heard the word before. He’s smirking like he’s expecting you to gasp and say “Wizard?!” He’s acting like you haven’t heard the exact same comment a thousand times before.

You nod slowly, watching his wand rotate. “Are you gonna try and hex me or something? Pretty cowardly of you, Malfoy, considering I have no way to defend myself.”

His smile fades into his customary scowl; he tucks his wand back into his robes, instead choosing to intertwine his hands behind his back. “You shouldn't be walking the hallways on your own, Weasley. Security measures have been heightened since the Dark Lord came back.”

“So I’ve heard,” you reply. The casual tone to your voice makes Draco’s eye twitch; you take a point for yourself in this silent competition the two of you have going on. “I felt like I was the safest one, considering Voldy-mort isn’t really interested in Squibs, is he?”

“That’s not the point; I can’t just be letting outsiders walk about.”

“I’m not an outsider. Dumbley-dore knows me just-”

“Stop with the stupid names-”

You lean forward, speaking louder just to annoy him. “Albus Dumbley-dore knows me just as well as he knows you. In fact, he probably knows me better considering he’s taught the majority of my family. How many Malfoys has he taught? Two? How many Malfoys has he liked? Zero.”

Draco glares. You smile, enjoying how easy it is to wind him up. He probably approached you thinking you would find his mere presence intimidating; he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Well,” he drawls, straightening up. “I’ll be letting Professor Snape know of your presence, and the attitude you’ve taken with me. I’ll let him handle it.”

“Oh, Snape! Goodness, it’s been a while since I last saw his ugly mug. Let him know my parents and I will be staying in the Hogs Head for a few days if he wants to pop in for a chat.”

Draco growls, turns on his heel and stomps back the way he came; your laughter follows him, uncontrollable. It’s one of the few things you enjoy here at Hogwarts - seeing Draco, winding him up. You will never understand why he continues to approach you every single time you come and visit. He knows nothing he can say will affect you, as you grew up with five older brothers and a younger sister with an attitude - you’ve heard it all a hundred times before.

----

“See, this is so much more fun than Scrabble.”

You scowl, glaring down at the chess board. The moving pieces seem to have something against you. No matter how hard you concentrate, or which direction you direct your little white pieces to go, you never seem to be getting any closer to winning this game.

“Concentrate, Y/N,” Ron urges. He’s been laughing at you for the past hour and a half. “Where does your bishop need to be?”

“If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll be directing my bishop right up your-”

“Y/N Weasley, enough of that!”

You jerk upright, sending the chess pieces scattering. The curtain is pushed open, revealing your mum, dad and Professor Burbage. Mum stands with a scowl on her face whilst Professor Burbage and Dad chat animatedly to one another, barely even registering the people around them.

“Honestly, who taught you to talk like that?” Mum grumbles, bustling over to Ron. She places the back of her hand against his head and scowls. “Your temperature is going up again, sweetie. Have you been drinking the potion Madame Pomfrey gave you?”

“Yes,” Ron grumbles, swatting Mum’s hand away. “It’s just warm in here. She never lets us open the bloody windows, Mum. It’s like I’m in prison!”

But Molly isn’t paying attention; after checking up on Ron, her attention snaps immediately to you. You meet her gaze and raise a questioning brow, freezing in your seat. It’s never good when Molly Weasley has her eyes on you.

“You alright, Mum?” you ask cautiously.

“Professor Burbage wanted to talk to you, dear,” she replies, and your heart instantly dips into your stomach,

Your head snaps round to where Burbage and Arthur are stood; they’ve stopped their animated chatter now, Arthur with one arm around Burbage’s shoulders whilst pointing at you with the other.

“This is Y/N!” Arthur exclaims. “Our little Muggle-expert. Honestly, Charity, I’ve worked in Muggle Artefacts for ten years, but I’ve not learned half as much from them as I have from our Y/N here.”

Your face flushes. “Dad.”

“Oh, don’t be humble, dear!” Molly exclaims, gripping your shoulders. “We were just telling Professor Burbage here all about your little solo trip to London a few months back, how you navigated the trains perfectly - ordered their own food and everything!”

Ron snickers. You slap his arm.

Burbage looks at you. Her eyes look tired, strained, her hairline thin and hair itself even thinner. Her nimble fingers are twisted in front of her, and she says nothing as she continues staring at you.

You glance at Molly, desperate for a bit of help, but Molly isn’t looking back. She continues massaging your shoulders as she says, “Of course, we don’t let any of them out on their own anymore - not with everything going on, but goodness, we were just so proud of Y/N when she came back in one piece. Apparently the train took an hour and a half to get from London to Birmingham! How bizarre is that?”

“Oh, Molly, dear,” Arthur tuts. “How many times have I told you that Muggle transportation isn’t the same as wizard transportation?” He shakes his head, turning to Burbage. “I’ve told her a thousand times, I really-”

Professor Burbage lurches forward and grabs your hand. You gasp, stumbling off your chair as she vigorously shakes it, nearly ripping your arm from its socket. Behind you, Ron has stopped snickering and is instead watching the scene unfold, clearly uncertain about what is actually happening.

“Y/N Weasley,” Burbage says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s an honour to meet you finally. I taught all of your brothers, so I did - all except Ronald, who apparently isn’t interested in Muggle Studies.”

Molly sighs. “We told him-”

“You didn’t tell me anything!” Ron exclaims.

Burbage ignores them both. “I know you’re no Muggle, of course - it would be insulting to say you are - but I did always find Squibs most interesting characters. They’ve got one foot in wizard life, one foot in the Muggle life. It really must be an experience, shifting between two very different worlds.”

“Uh….”

“Go on, Y/N,” Arthur urges. “Tell her about London. Tell her about the. . . the - What was it called? The peasant?”

“The pheasant, Dad. It was a pheasant.”

“Oh!” Burbage cries suddenly, making you flinch back. “I’ve heard of those! Birds, are they not? Quite ugly little things, but very big. Very big for birds…” She trails off, muttering to herself. The entire time, her hand remains firm in your own, refusing to let it go as if in fear of you running away from this seemingly important conversation.

All you want to do is run away.

“Anyway,” Professor Burbage bursts, “I’ve just come in to ask if you’d like to attend my next lesson for a few minutes. I’ve got a N.E.W.T. class coming in and I know for a fact having someone like you involved in their learning would do them a world of good.”

Oh goodness, no.

The answer is immediate. The mere idea of standing up in front of a classroom of wizards to walk them through how you were the one genetic failure in the family is enough to make your stomach turn. You open your mouth to express this, but Arthur jumps forward before you have a chance.

“That would be an honour, Charity. An honour for Y/N and the family!”

Your eyes widen. “Actually-”

“Wonderful!” Burbage exclaims, grabbing your arm again. She wrenches you out of Molly’s grip, already ushering you out of the infirmary, the sound of Ron’s uncertain grumbles following you out. At least your brother can see how uncomfortable this idea makes you, but his chunterings don’t make any difference.

“Professor,” you beg, stumbling after her as she leads you through the crowded hallways. “Professor, I really don’t have anything to say to your N.E.W.T. students or whatever. I’ve been to London on my own once, and it really didn’t go as smooth as my dad is making it out to be. I nearly got mugged, like, four times, and there was this guy with a knife-”

“Here we are!”

You glance over; lining up against the wall is a group of seventeen year olds, all of whom are staring at you in a mix of confusion and amusement. Some of these people know exactly who you are, considering they’re in the same year as Ron, whilst others merely see a very distressed individual dressed in casual robes.

“Good afternoon, class,” Burbage begins, refusing to let you go into her classroom or to let go of your arm. “I hope we’re all well. Please enter, and take your books out.”

The line of students files into the class, and you and Burbage follow close behind. Your heart is racing, eyes flicking back and forth along the students currently scooping textbooks and wands out of their bags, whispering amongst themselves. Burbage’s classroom is decorated with moving pictures of Muggle buses and trains, Muggle supermarkets and schools - all of which you probably know less about than anyone else in this classroom.

Burbage pushes you towards a seat in the corner, kindly telling you to make yourself comfortable. You give her your best smile and sink into the plastic, crossing one knee over the other, resisting the urge to bury your head in your hands. Every eye is on you. Every single one.

You bite your lip and look around, and that’s when you spot him.

Of all people in Hogwarts, you never once would have expected to see Draco Malfoy unpacking a Muggle Studies textbook. The boy from a family of Muggle haters. The boy who spends every waking moment ensuring every non-pure-blood wizard in his vicinity is completely miserable is stood in a Muggle Studies classroom.

“Malfoy?”

His name bursts from your lips before you can stop yourself. You slap a hand across your mouth, turning to Burbage with an apologetic look that she raises her brows at, but refuses to comment on. Instead, she barrels on with the lesson.

You glance back at Malfoy, who is now staring at you with an open mouth; he’s going to laugh at you. Seeing you sat in the corner is going to bring him such amusement. You can already hear the jeers he’s probably going to throw at you as soon as this bell rings, how he’s going to make your life a living hell for the short period of time you’ll be here.

“Okay everyone, now that we’re settled, I’d like to introduce you all to a special guest who has so kindly offered to overlook our lesson today,” Burbage says after her introductions.

“Actually, Professor, I’d rather-”

“This is Y/N Weasley, one of the few Squibs I’ve had the honour of meeting.”

The class goes silent. You bite your lip, ducking your head into your hands before anyone can see the horror that is currently rising to the surface - you want to scream.

“Y/N’s parents were just telling me a few minutes ago that Y/N went into Muggle London - remember our last few lessons on Muggle London? - all on their own! Isn’t that incredible?”

“Terrifying,” Malfoy jeers. “What a hero!”

You grit your teeth - it’s started.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Draco! What an honour it is to be in the presence of such a brave soul.”

You look up through a slit in your fingers, giving Professor Burbage a pleading look, a silent plea for her to just stop, to just get on with whatever lesson she had planned while you sit in the corner and mind your own god damn business.

But she just smiles brightly. “Tell me, Y/N - how did the Muggle’s react to having a Squib walking amongst them?”

You lift your head, purposefully avoiding a glance at Malfoy; even without looking at him, his snickers are unmistakable. “They didn’t know I’m a Squib, Professor. I just looked like a normal person.”

Burbage’s eyes widen. “Really? They couldn’t even tell?”

“But Squibs are so obvious,” someone jeers from the far side of the classroom - looking over, you’re pretty certain you recognise the man as Zacharias Smith, someone Ron has always taken a disliking to, but only because Hermione threatened to go out with him one time. “Could they not feel the uselessness coming off you?”

You scowl. “Have you been paying attention in Muggle Studies at all? Squibs don’t give off a bloody scent, you dumb little-”

“But I thought Muggle’s dress differently to us,” a girl in the front row interjects, raising her hand pointlessly.

“They do, dear,” Burbage replies. “They tend to wear. . . shorter clothes. No robes. Correct, Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So how were you not recognised as a Squib?”

“I wore Muggle clothes-”

“Your older brother told me Muggle clothes can make a wizards skin burn-”

“Y/N isn’t a wizard, you idiot. They’re a Squib-”

“They’re the same thing!”

“No, Squib’s don’t have magic, wizards do.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Gregg, or I swear-”

“Alright, class, enough!” Burbage exclaims, but it’s too late for that now. Questions are being fired at you from all directions, questions that seem most innocent to the oblivious but which actually cut pretty deep into the thick skin you possess.

The word Squib in itself doesn’t sit right with you - you’ve never identified as a wizard nor a Muggle, but there’s something about that word that just puts a bad taste in your mouth. Maybe it’s the way it’s spoken by others - like an insult, a sneer rather than a simple term. Maybe it’s the implications it holds - here is a person who comes from a family of people who can basically do whatever they want. Here is a person who comes from a family seen as mystical, but they are not the same. They were not blessed in the same way even though all odds were saying they should have been.

You swallow thickly, glancing over at Malfoy for a reason you cannot pinpoint - it’s not like he's a source of comfort. It’s not like he will be any different than the ignorant wizards currently yelling question after question at you. Nonetheless, your eyes find his, and it’s with a jolt that you realise he’s staring right at you with an almost worried expression on his face. A tilt to his head, brows furrowed, lips pursed.

You don’t know why you do it. You mouth the word help in his direction, and immediately he stands.

“Everyone shut up!” he hisses. “Giving me a bloody headache!”

The class fades into silence. Malfoy grunts, sits back down and ushers for Professor Burbage to continue the lesson, which she does with only mild hesitance. It’s clear she now realises that bringing you here today was perhaps not thoroughly thought through, but you don’t make a move to leave. You sit in the corner of the classroom as she goes through the lesson plan, keeping your head ducked in an attempt to ignore the stares.

Once the lesson plan has been explained, Professor Burbage tells the class to get on with their work before she says, “Y/N will be walking around to help anyone who needs it.”

You roll your eyes; will wizards ever get the hint?

You push yourself up from your chair and start your rounds of the classroom, ignoring anyone who actually asks for your assistance. At this point, you just want the lesson to be over so you can head back to the infirmary and play Ron in a game of Scrabble - you’re much better at Scrabble than he is, and winning a few rounds will boost your dignity after those horrific chess games you played earlier.

“Excuse me, can you help me with question-”

“Piss off.”

“That’s not very nice, Weasley.”

You stop dead. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I need help with question three - as I just asked.”

You scowl, glancing at him over your shoulder. He’s smirking, twirling his pen between his fingers in a way not unlike how he had twirled his wand only a few hours prior. You take a few steps back and glance down at his work.

“‘What mode of transport should a Muggle use if they want to move a sofa from one place to another?’” you recite. “Oh, come on, Malfoy. You’re not that thick.”

“Just give me the answer.”

“No. You’ll never learn if I just hand it to you.”

He scowls, kicking your shin beneath the table. “Are you alright?”

The sudden subject change nearly gives you whiplash, though it’s not nearly as shocking as the soft note his voice has suddenly undertaken. Your gaze snaps to him, an eyebrow raising. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You asked me for help literally two seconds ago. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“I’m fine. Just - uh - a little shy when I'm the centre of attention.”

“A Weasley, not liking attention? That’s a first.”

You flick his ear. Malfoy grunts, swats your hand away before saying, “Why did you agree to come here?”

“I didn’t agree to anything.” Before you can think better of it, you tug the stool out from beside Malfoy and sit down, leaning over in an attempt to look like you’re just helping him with his work. “She came into the infirmary with my parents and basically dragged me in here - you know how my dad is with all that Muggle stuff. He wouldn’t let me say no.”

Malfoy snickers, pretending to write something down. “Is it true you wore Muggle clothes?”

“Don’t start….”

He raises a hand in mock surrender, that stupid grin forming on his face. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I heard - what is it? - Adidas? I heard they’re very comfortable-”

“You’re taking the mick out of me,” you hiss, slapping his arm. He bursts into laughter, and the noise seems to startle even him, as he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, face turning bright red.

“I hope it’s just Muggle Studies we’re discussing over there, Draco!” Burbage calls.

Draco scowls, slowly lowering his hand before he glances at you and says, “I hate this bleeding class.”

“Mm, I gathered that. Never took you as the type to be interested in what Muggle’s get up to.”

“I’m not, but it’s an easy N.E.W.T.”

“That’s what they all say.” You nudge his elbow. “Just admit it, Malfoy; you’re interested in Muggle activities.”

“Shut up, Weasley, or I won’t help you out of your next ambush.”

You snicker, pushing away from the table. “There won’t be another ambush. I’m not stepping foot back in this classroom if I can help it.”

“That’s what I said during my O.W.L’s, and now look where I am.”

“See, this is when my Muggle education comes in handy; no need for crappy lessons like this.” You clap him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Malfoy. Have fun learning about vans.” You tap question three on his paper. “V-A-N. You’re welcome.”

----

Hogsmeade is a good place to be for a Squib.

Magic isn’t necessarily expected. You can walk through the streets and nobody will be under any illusion that you’re different. It’s freeing, a rare experience when you spend half your life either not fitting in amongst wizards, or not fitting in amongst Muggles. There is no in between for you.

Today, Arthur and Molly permitted you and Ron some time to go into Hogsmeade together before you and your parents are due to depart to the Burrow again, where you will grudgingly continue your Muggle classes, steeping in your own boredom.

The streets would be considered empty if not for the abundance of Ministry officials littering the area; they stand outside every shop, talking to passers-by, warning them of the danger they are in by simply being outside. Kingsley Shacklebolt - a good friend of yours - gives you and Ron a stern look when you pass him standing outside Olivander’s.

“I thought Molly and Arthur would know better,” he says. “You two should be inside at all times.”

“It’s like the Order wants us to go insane,” Ron mutters when the two of you are walking away from what was undoubtedly about to turn into a proper scolding. “Honestly, what are the chances You-Know-Who is just going to turn up in the middle of Hogsmeade? I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere he doesn’t like the Saturday crowds...”

You and Ron continue to shop for a little while, though none of the stores particularly interest you. You love looking at the architecture and the fancy colours of each shop, but when you can’t really use any of the stuff being sold, the architecture isn’t enough to keep your attention seized.

Nonetheless, you trail after Ron because this may be the last time you are able to see him until Christmas, and you’ll be damned if you let your last few days of company go to waste. The colour is back in his face, that tiny sway to his walk returning now that the poison has officially cleared his system; though you will never admit it to him, the worry you felt sitting at his bedside these past few days has been eating you alive. To see him back on his feet and grinning again is like Christmas come early.

“Oh!” He latches onto your arm, snapping you from your daze. You follow the direction in which he is pointing, throwing your head back to groan into the air when you catch a glimpse of Quality Quidditch Supplies, Ron’s favourite place in the whole of Hogsmeade.

“Oh, come on!” Ron exclaims, dragging your protesting form forward. “Just a little look to see if they’ve got anything new in.”

“Why would they have anything new in?” you hiss, pressing a foot against the door frame in your attempts to make Ron let go of you. “The Quidditch season started months ago! Everyone’s already got everything they-”

“Don’t make me hex you!”

You groan, letting your foot slip to the floor. Ron tugs you into the shop after him, a bright smile on his face as soon as he lays eyes upon the Quidditch sets propped up on the far side of the shop. He scurries off, leaving you to awkwardly pluck at the bits and bobs that - apparently - have something to do with Quidditch. Growing up, you always found the concept of Quidditch to be quite intriguing. Charlie would never let a single family dinner go by without ranting about some team or other, and you were always inclined to listen.

However, you were never able to properly play. The only way you could ever fly a broom was when one of your older brothers would get it off the ground first before placing you upon it - which never really had the same effect, and has left you in many bad states over the years. Your mum put a ban on it when you were seven years old, though that never stopped Charlie Weasley from letting you have a go on his broom every now and then.

You glance over at the broomsticks as the memories pop into your head; they are magnificent looking. It’s with hesitance that you stalk over to them, running your fingers along the bristles at the end, imagining the magic seeping from your fingertips into the broom, watching it lift off the floor purely because you wished it to, because you want it to fly and nobody else.

You don’t even crave an expensive one, not like Harry’s, or Ron’s new one that he got when he was made a Prefect. You just want one - any of them would do, as long as they work, as long as it’s yours.

But that will never be the case.

You bite your lip and look down; this always happens. You’ve been able to push past these feelings of uselessness pretty well during this Hogwarts visit, but they push to the surface now.

“Oi! Weasley!”

You stumble away from the brooms, very nearly knocking over a display case filled with different Quaffles as you do so. Draco laughs, wading towards you with that long-legged stroll of his, and that stupid smile plastered all the way across his face. Him catching you ogling the broomsticks, knowing full well you can’t actually use one, is really the thing that tops off this already quite disastrous trip.

“What are you doing out of the castle?” you ask quickly, struggling to stop the display case from wobbling.

“I’m a Prefect. I can do what I want.”

“And you want to stand here and take the mick out of me, I suppose?”

Draco raises a brow, glancing behind you to where the broomsticks are mounted on the wall by invisible bonds. He looks back down at you, tilts his head and says, “Feeling a bit envious today, Weasley?”

You roll your eyes, hands still messing with the display case. “I really don’t - for the love of - I really don’t have the - Oh, my goodness, can you just use a spell and straighten this bloody thing?”

Draco laughs, but does as you say. With a flick of his wand, the display case stops wobbling and you can safely lower your hands to your sides.

“Thanks,” you grumble. “As I was saying, I really don’t have the time to sit here and listen to you go on about your fancy spells. Mum wants me and Ron back at the castle in about half an hour, so-”

“Oh, plenty of time!” And before you can pull away, Draco has wrapped an arm round your shoulders and is steering you back towards the wall of broomsticks. With his wand outstretched, he points to each one, uttering their names into your ear like a teacher giving a student a tour.

His breath tickles your neck, and you’re not sure why you’re so aware of it. His fingers are cold against the tiny bit of shoulder peaking from your robes, and again, it’s startling how aware of his touch you are.

“Have you ever flown one of these before?” he asks, after telling you what each one is called - this is information you already know, of course, considering you grew up in a household of Quidditch fanatics, but you let him ramble on anyway.

“No,” you reply. “Well, not on my own. My brothers had to get the broom off the ground for me and then I would ride around on it for awhile until the magic wore off and I - uh - landed.”

Draco hums. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Yeah. It is. It’s just stupid, and painful.” You shrug Draco’s arm off your shoulder and spin. “Quite like this conversation. Can I leave yet?”

Draco raises a brow; it’s that facial expression that always gets to you, no matter how many times you’ve seen it. You and Draco have watched each other grow up in tiny little bursts - you came to visit Hogwarts multiple times within the school year, and every single time, you somehow managed to have some sort of run-in with Draco. The two of you have bickered with one another from day one, but this facial expression is one that has always, always made you want to punch him.

“I’ll walk you back to the castle,” he says. He turns on his heel and starts walking before you have a chance to decline his offer. You splutter, frantically scanning the shop for any sign of your twin brother - it’s when you spot him talking to Seamus Finnigan that you groan and decide to give in to your fate. You have to jog to keep up with Malfoy.

“I know the way back,” you say, stumbling over your robes.

“I’m sure you do. That doesn’t mean I can’t accompany you.”

“I really don’t think I should be leaving without telling Ron first…”

“Ronald will handle the journey back perfectly fine on his own.” Malfoy glances back at you. “Plus, I don’t think Ron would like to hear what I have to ask you. It’s probably best we’re on our own.”

You falter, heart skipping. You don’t like the sound of those words, especially coming from someone as unpredictable as Malfoy.

You raise a brow, ignoring the way he smirks as he turns back, giving a passing group of third year girls a nod.

“Don’t look so worried, Weasley. The wand is staying beneath the cloak.”

“It’s not the wand I’m wary of.”

His smirk turns into a grin. “I was going to ask you if you’d fancy a trip to the Quidditch pitches later tonight.”

You stare at the back of his head as if doing so will somehow unravel the joke he’s clearly trying to pull right now. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t correct himself, doesn’t even snicker, though you can’t miss the way in which he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his robes.

“Sorry,” you reply sometime after. “I just. . . Can you repeat that?”

He groans. “It really isn’t a difficult question.” He looks over. “And it’s not a date, either. I just thought you might appreciate a little bit of flying time on the pitches before you leave.”

Is this Draco Malfoy being nice? If you weren’t currently witnessing it first hand, you wouldn’t believe it to be possible. You pick up your pace a tiny bit, just until you’re walking directly beside him when you say, “I can’t fly a broom, and you know that.”

“You just told me your brothers used to help you; I can get it off the ground, and then you take it from there.”

“And you don’t mind me using your broom? You’re not scared I’m going to break it?”

Draco shrugs. “I have more than enough Galleons to pay for a new one, Weasley, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” you mumble. “But I - uh - I guess I could do that. It doesn’t sound too bad.”

Draco glances down at you. “I’ll meet you at the pitches at nine o’clock then.”

“Nine o’clock it is.”

---

You have to tell your parents you’re going to visit Ron.

They’ll never let you leave otherwise, not with Voldemort still breathing. Honestly, you can’t even blame them for the protective pull they’ve put on you, though you also can’t help but notice just how much stronger it is over you than it is for Ron - your twin brother had been in the infirmary after being poisoned only a few days prior, and yet they let him roam about Hogsmeade as much as he wants.

“You know it’s probably Ron they’ll go after before they come after me,” you recall telling them over dinner one night. Your mother hadn’t even looked up from her food, though you saw her jaw twitch with the idea you had just implanted in her head. “He’s the one that’s best mates with Harry.”

“You and Harry are also good friends,” your dad says, pointing his fork at you.

“Right, but not - like - best friends.”

“Y/N, we’re not discussing this over dinner,” Molly had snapped. “You’ll do as we say, and that’s final!”

Now you feel like you have no choice but to lie.

You inform your parents that Ron has asked for your company during his next study session in which he wants you to check over his essay and correct any spelling and punctuation he’s messed up on; a lie, of course, but Ron’s genuine lack of skill when it comes to basic spelling and grammar is an easy enough lie to ride upon. Your parents immediately permit you to leave, kissing you goodbye before sending you off to the castle under the moonlight.

The Quidditch pitches themselves are magnificent when it’s dark.

You’ve never been to a proper Hogwarts Quidditch match; you went to the Quidditch World Cup with your family a few summers ago, but you’ve always wanted to see Ron or Harry play.

Or Malfoy.

The rings stand tall, glittering gold in the darkness. The lights from the commentator’s stand have been kept on, and it’s almost as if night time doesn’t exist. You can see everything perfectly; the audience stands, the rings, the soft grass you are currently walking across to reach the very centre of the field where Draco Malfoy stands, his broom at his side, his robes fitting him perfectly.

He gives you a smile when he sees you. “I thought you’d gotten lost. Navigating around this place without magic can be a real pain.”

“As I’m so often reminded.” You nod to his broom. “A Nimbus 2001. Not bad.”

Draco shrugs, though his smirk is evident. “It’s carried me well.”

“Is that why you’ve never caught the Snitch?”

He scowls at you. “Do you want to fly it or not?”

You slowly reach a hand out, gently brushing your fingertips along the wood. It really is pretty - you can already imagine Ron’s face when you tell him that you somehow managed to have a go on a real Nimbus 2001, something Ron couldn’t even dream of doing.

You lift your gaze. Draco is staring at you, watching the adoration on your face, reminding you that you will forever be unable to do as he does. You flinch your hand away and stuff it in the pocket of your raggedy robes.

“Let’s have a look, then,” you say. “Get on it and show me how it works.”

Draco sets everything up. You watch him closely, recounting the steps you have memorised for no reason at all, steps you are intrigued by but will never use. He gives you one final look before he mounts the broom and takes off.

And he’s just as beautiful as you imagined.

You’ve seen Quidditch matches. You’ve watched players soar through the air for hours on end, watched them swerve between hoops and dodge Bludgers with an efficiency similar to that of a bird. You’ve seen it all, but it’s quite different when you’re watching someone like Malfoy have the sky all to themselves. There’s no dodging, no jerky swerves, no expressions of frustration. It’s just Malfoy and his broom, swerving between nothing, grinning down at you.

His blonde hair flashes silver every time he flies in front of the commentator’s lights. You place a hand on your forehead, blocking out the beams just enough to see him do a loop before he yells out your name and waves.

You laugh, unable to help yourself. Jumping to be seen a bit better, you wave your arms violently back and forth, hoping for no reason at all that Malfoy can see you, that he’s smiling down at you, having fun-

He does a final loop and then crashes to the floor, dirt flying up all around him, splattering his robes and his face, but he’s laughing and smiling as he jogs back to your side.

“Wow,” you say, giving him a round of applause. “That was good, Malfoy.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he replies. “Your turn?”

You nod enthusiastically, watching Draco set the broom up until it is hovering in the air between you.

“The magic bits all done now,” he says. “I’m assuming you know how to work the rest?”

You place your hand on the broom; immediately it deflates, becoming heavy in your hand when it should feel light as air. You frown, dropping it to the floor.

“It stopped working,” you say.

Draco hums in confusion, bends down and picks it up. He tries again, getting the broom to float before he steps back and you have another go. Once again, the broom deflates and crashes to the floor between you.

“Well, that’s bloody annoying,” you grumble. “Walked all the way through Hogsmeade and this is what I get for it?”

Draco picks up the broom again. “Don’t be so dramatic. If you want to have a go, I’ll just get on with you.”

You falter. “What?”

He swings his leg over the broom and motions for you to get on behind him; there’s plenty of room, but the mere idea of soaring through the air upon the same broom as Draco Malfoy is a bit intimidating.

“Listen, mate.” You take a cautious step back. “I know my family can be a bit of a pain when it comes to you, but I never had any issue with you. If you want me dead, you could have just-”

“Oh, for the love of-” Draco surges forward, grabs a handful of your robes and rugs you onto the broom behind him. You yelp, having only seconds to grab onto his waist before he’s kicking off the floor and suddenly you’re in the air.

You bury your head in his spine, groaning against his robes; you were so prepared for this, and yet the abruptness with which he took off has your stomach reeling. The wind pelts your face. The world gets smaller and smaller and smaller below you…

You peek an eye out from Malfoy’s robes, the breath leaving you in an instant. Hogwarts really is a wonderful sight to behold when you’re looking at it from above; the lanterns flicking subtly in the hallways, the shadows of passing students drifting by the window, the smoke billowing from the many chimneys dotting the castles exterior.

“Bloody hell,” is the only way you can articulate your feelings.

Draco laughs, the noise reverberating against your cheek. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s. . . more than nice,” you choke out, finally pulling away from him completely, though you keep your arms wound around his waist. “Is this what you see during every Quidditch match? ‘Cause you clearly don’t see the Snitch all that often.”

Draco jerks the front of the broom. You simply laugh, even as you’re forced to tighten your grip on his waist to stay in the air.

“It’s a little different,” he replies, shooting you a playful glare. “There’s always so much going on in a Quidditch match, it’s difficult to stop and focus on the scenery.”

“That makes sense.”

Draco hums, jerking his broom to go in the opposite direction. “I hope that’s not another dig at my Seeker skills, Weasley.”

“If the shoe fits, Malfoy.”

The broom is directed into an abrupt nosedive.

You screech, pressing your head - yet again - into Malfoy’s spine, as if being unable to see the floor will mean you are not heading directly towards it. The wind whistles loudly in your ears, though not loud enough to cover Malfoy’s cackling laugh as he tugs and suddenly the broom is soaring back into the air.

You pant, lifting your head, darting your eyes left and right. “What the hell, Malfoy?”

“Did that scare you?”

“Of course it did! Why would you do that?”

He glances at you, grinning from ear to ear. He doesn’t even have to say anything - you get the message. He’s always had fun teasing you, and that isn’t going to stop tonight.

You roll your eyes, slapping him on the back. “You’re the absolute worst.”

“So you’ve told me.”

It’s silent after that. The two of you fly circles round the Quidditch pitch until it gets too cold for Malfoy to grip the handle properly. He heads back to the ground, feet skidding against the floor, one hand winding around and gripping your waist to stop the impact from hurting too much.

You stumble off the broom, grin evident on your face. “That was incredible!”

Malfoy lazily picks at the handle, not looking up when he hums in agreement.

Your excitement is palpable, screaming through your system at a million miles per hour. You clap your hands, doing a tiny twirl in the middle of the Quidditch pitch purely because you can, because you’ve just flew, because Charlie is going to be so damn proud of you-

You open your eyes to see Malfoy staring at you.

He’s wearing an expression you have never seen him wear before; dazed, almost, like he doesn’t quite know how to process what he’s feeling or seeing. His lips are slightly parted, hands limp so his broom falls halfway to the floor. His blue eyes stare into your own, and slowly he starts to tilt his head.

Your cheeks heat up, and you quickly look away. “Don’t look at me like that, Malfoy.”

He doesn’t say anything for a number of minutes, and you’re suddenly much too nervous to look up to see why. You can still feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your head, even as you keep your eyes trained on the grass beneath you.

And then suddenly Malfoy takes a step forward. Just a single step, but it’s enough to put you nearly chest to chest with the Slytherin. You can smell the wind clinging to his clothes, the fresh scent of grass and a slight undertone of sweat. You can hear his breathing, suddenly much more shallow than it was before.

You risk a glance upwards, not entirely sure why you’re not moving away from him, making some remark about how weird he is or how badly he annoys you. All words have died on your tongue, and it’s understandable when you look up to see him staring right down at you, not a single flash of humour upon his face.

His hand is on your cheek in seconds; your breath leaves you in one clean swoop, the feel of his palm making your heart jump.

“Your smile is. . . very pretty,” he says, so quietly his words could easily be mistaken for the wind.

“Draco…”

“Come back to the castle with me,” he continues. “I can convince McGonagall to let you stay in the Slytherin common room.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

His grin flashes in the dark, sharp and perfect. “If you want to accompany me. If you-”

His words are cut short by Molly Weasley bellowing your name from across the Quidditch field.

You leap away from Malfoy, very nearly falling over your own robes in the process. Malfoy himself looks suddenly flustered, running his ringed hands through his hair and looking away from the blinding lights in an attempt to hide the pink hue of his cheeks.

“Y/N Weasley, do not ignore me!” Molly screeches, and then she is Apparating in front of you and seizing you by the shoulders, shaking you. “ARE. YOU. INSANE?”

“Mum!” you exclaim. “Bloody hell, Mum, calm down!”

“CALM DOWN?” she cries, voice cracking. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! Can you even begin to comprehend the fright your father and I got when we sent an owl up to the school to check how you and Ron were getting on, only to be told that you weren’t even in the Hogwarts castle?”

Guilt falls heavily on your shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Oh, you will be.” Molly grabs your wrist and starts stampeding across the field, muttering things like “early grave… grey hairs….can’t believe” beneath her breath. You, however, don’t even fully register what she is trying to say as you turn and glance at Malfoy, who is standing stock still in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, watching you go with his broom hanging limp at his side.

Molly Apparates back to the Hogs Head, and that’s the last you see of him.

----

“Please tell me it’s a joke.”

You don’t even look up.

“Y/N, please tell me Mum was just pulling my leg.”

“I don’t-”

“Oh, god, you can’t even look at me.” Ron falls into his chair and grabs a hash brown, stuffing it in his mouth. “You were out with Malfoy?”

You wince; the volume with which Ron always insists on speaking has never made sense to you. “Not for very long,” you lie. “And what’s it to you who I hang out with?”

“Good point,” Hermione chirps. “But Malfoy, Y/N? Really? You could do so much better.”

Something burns in your chest, an overwhelming urge to tell the two of them to get their judgemental noses out of your business; however, you know doing such a thing will do nothing to persuade them that nothing is going on between you and Malfoy, so you instead choose to scoop some cereal into your mouth and pretend you hadn’t heard.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Ron continues. “Malfoy’s a Prefect, for crying out loud. What’s he doing sneaking out of the castle in the dark?”

“Clearly he wanted to see Y/N,” Hermione says.

“Well, yeah, but why? Y/N’s a Squib!”

“Thanks, Ron,” you grumble.

Ron groans, nudging your elbow. “You know that’s not what I meant; most people don’t have a problem with you. But Malfoy - he’s a different cup of tea altogether, isn’t he?”

“How so?”

Ron shrugs. “He’s just a close-minded little weasel. Can’t see anyone being anything other than pure blood.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “How many times do I have to remind you, Ron? Y/N is a pure blood - they just haven’t got the magical abilities.”

Ron waves a dismissive hand. “Either way, I’m surprised Draco hasn’t tried humiliating you a thousand times already.”

“Have you ever actually had a real conversation with Draco?” The words are out before you can stop them. Hermione and Ron cautiously glance at you, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, don’t tell me he’s buttered you up,” Ron says. “Not you. I have to bloody live with you!”

“He hasn’t buttered me up,” you shoot back. “I just don’t see why I should completely boycott him just because you lot don’t like him. He’s nice to me.”

Ron scoffs. “He’s nice to me. You know what that sounds like, Y/N? Sounds like you’re fraternising with the enemy; getting cuddly; abandoning the side that put clothes on your back-”

“Oh Ron, honestly!” Hermione hisses, slapping his arm. “Give it a rest; Y/N can like whoever they want.” She nods at you, giving you a small smile. “I’m happy for you.”

You smile back, even though her words do nothing but fluster you; she speaks of you liking Malfoy as if you outright said you liked him, but you never did. To be honest, you don’t even know what your feelings are for Malfoy; after last night, you will admit to feeling something, something that was always lurking beneath the surface but refused to make an appearance because every time it started to rise, Malfoy would say something to Ron, or you, or he would just be ignorant and you couldn’t bring yourself to admit what you were feeling for him.

But last night, things took such a sharp turn. So sharp, in fact, that you haven’t even fully processed what any of it means, or what you’re meant to do now, or how you’re meant to approach the topic with Malfoy the next time you see him.

Breakfast finishes, and it’s nearly time to leave. On any normal day, leaving Hogwarts is the highlight; you can escape the stares and the uncertain questions. Now, however, as you, Ron and Hermione stand up from the table and get ready to go downstairs where you are due to meet your parents, you can’t help but feel a little. . . incomplete, as if you didn’t finish something you set out to do on this brief trip.

Harry catches up to you all as you’re wondering down the staircase. “You lot couldn’t have waited?”

“We’re on a schedule, Potter,” you reply. “Molly and Arthur Weasley cannot be left waiting.”

Harry rolls his eyes, pulling you into a brotherly side hug as you arrive in the main hall; sure enough, Molly and Arthur Weasley are nowhere to be found, and not a single person is surprised.

“Always late,” Ron grumbles. “I just want to get rid of you.”

“Shut up.” You pull Ron into a hug. “Try not to get poisoned again before Christmas, alright? I won’t be able to handle Mum on my own if Percy doesn’t show up again.”

“It’s not me we need to keep an eye on,” Ron says, pulling away. “If I put you on a leash, do you think that will keep you away from the Slytherin boys?”

Harry splutters, head snapping up.

You groan. “Nothing happened with Malfoy and I!”

“Oh.”

Your heart drops.

And it shouldn’t. The sound of Draco’s voice - that quiet, innocent little oh - should have done nothing to faze you, but it does. You whirl around and there he is, standing on the bottom step with his hands swinging by his side and his face strained with his attempts to keep that strong expression upon it.

“Sorry. Looks like I’ve walked in at the wrong time,” he sneers.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron spits. “Can’t you see we’re a bit occupied at the-”

“Draco…”

Malfoy’s blue eyes flick to you. A muscle tenses in his jaw before he shrugs, turns on his heel and starts walking back the way he came.

Your heart is beating so fast. It feels heavy. Your eyes are burning, unshed tears rising to the surface even though none of it makes sense; you weren’t lying. Nothing did happen between you and Malfoy last night - nothing serious, nothing physical.

But you would be a liar, a downright fool, to claim nothing changed. Soaring through the sky on the back of his broom, watching the stars glide past, laughing louder than you have laughed in many, many months - something did happen, whether it was physical or not.

You turn, eyes finding Ron’s immediately. He’s scowling until he meets your gaze and notices the desperation there; his twin, the strongest of his siblings because you’ve been the most misunderstood your entire life, yet here you are, on the verge of tears because you don’t know what to do.

Ron’s expression softens. He looks over at Harry and Hermione, neither of whom seem to have read the room and have since continued their chat about Harry’s Defence Against the Dark Arts homework.

Ron sighs, steps forward and says, “Go. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you went to the loo or something.”

You’re off in a heartbeat.

If last nights endeavours don’t give away your feelings for Malfoy, then the speed at which you dart back up the stairs certainly does. The hallways are empty besides the odd stray ghost, all of whom you ignore as you search desperately for any sign of Malfoy roaming amongst them. It seems like all is lost until you eventually round the corner leading to the library and very nearly crash right into his back.

He’s leaning against the wall, though he spins around as soon as you make an appearance. His eyes widen, mouth opening but you’re speaking before he can say anything.

“For gods sake, Malfoy! Why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?” you pant, slapping his arm. “Do you know how difficult it is to run up those stairs when they’re moving like that? No, of course you don’t, because you can just Apparate or whatever it is you lot do to get from one place to another.” You groan, clutching the stitch in your side. “Please don’t let me leave here without an explanation.”

Draco stares at you open mouthed, seeming too stunned for words.

You close your eyes and say, “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“What are you-”

“I don’t think nothing happened between us last night.”

Draco pauses. You lean forward, pressing your forehead to the wall in exasperation; your side is still aching, and time is running out, and you’re no longer all that confident in the fact that Draco feels the same way.

“I think. . . I think we were very caught up in the moment,” you hurry on. “It was dark, and the lights were a little romantic-”

“Romantic?”

“And obviously we’re both very confused, because we hate each other, you know? That’s kind of like our thing! You take the mick out of me, and I take the mick out of you, and then we don’t see each other for a good few months and then it restarts, and-”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yes you do. You always have.”

Draco places a hand on your arm, gently easing you away from the wall. Your eyes open, hands trembling with anxiety but that doesn’t stop Draco from slipping his fingers between your own.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “Do you wanna know a bit of a secret, Weasley?”

Your heart jumps. “Uh. . . Go on then.”

“Last night when the broom fell every time you touched it? That was me. I was making it fall so I had an excuse for you to fly with me.”

You blink. In any other situation, with any other person, that news would absolutely infuriate you. But now, you look up into Draco’s eyes and you see that soft, cheeky smile and you can’t even bring yourself to feel anything besides absolute fondness.

Nonetheless, you scowl. “You really are a little rat, aren’t you Malfoy?”

He throws his head back and laughs, and that does it for you. You grab his chin, pull his head down and kiss him.

His hands find your jaw immediately, winding through your hair as the world disappears and trouble doesn’t exist. It’s a weird feeling to be so at peace with someone who is the definition of destruction, someone who was born and raised to cause havoc. You silently wonder who taught him to be so gentle.

Draco pulls away first, eyes still half-closed, tongue swiping so casually across his bottom lip, as if savouring the feel of you. You are less graceful, stumbling away from him enough to exclaim, “So that broom would have stayed up if you weren’t messing with it? I knew it!”

Draco rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand to pull you back towards him. “Don’t pretend you didn’t prefer flying with me.”

You scowl. “I would have preferred having the option.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better; let’s see who can catch the Snitch quicker.”

Draco pecks your lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

----

“Draco, fly straight! Fly straight!”

“Why would I do that? The Snitch isn’t-”

“Just fly straight!”

Draco groans, tugging the broom in the direction you’ve ordered. Up ahead, Ron and Charlie twist around each other, eyes scanning the garden for any sign of the little golden ball you’re all desperately searching for. Charlie is good - you know this, have seen him play Quidditch too many times to deny such a fact. Now, however, you’re determined to give your boyfriend a point.

“Has Weasley spotted it?” Draco calls over the wind.

“There’s three Weasleys in our vicinity, Draco, you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

“Ron. Has Ron spotted the Snitch?”

You glance over your shoulder. “No, he still looks like he doesn’t know where he is.”

“Oh, good.” Draco speeds up then; you cling onto his waist, keeping your eyes firm on Charlie up ahead. “What have you got planned, Weasley?”

“Give me a minute.” You push yourself up using Draco’s shoulders; your boyfriend cries out, averting his eyes from the path ahead to look up at you as you balance on the back of his broom, a trick Fred and George taught you when you were only little.

“What are you doing?” Draco yells, reaching round with one hand to grab your knees. “You’re gonna fall!”

“Just keep flying straight!”

“Oh my-”

Charlie tries to whizz past, knowing full well what you’re planning to do - he’s seen this trick a million times before, has always claimed it to be cheating. In your eyes, you can’t really cheat if you’re nothing more than a bystander.

And that’s what drives you to leap forward and crash onto the back of Charlie’s broom.

In the background, you can hear Draco cursing, his own broom swerving left and right before he manages to get it together and spin back around. Ron is laughing. Charlie is fuming.

“Get off!” your older brother exclaims. “You said you wouldn’t do that!”

“Give Draco a chance,” you say through giggles, before you slam your hands into the front of Charlie’s broom, directing it to the floor. Charlie yells out your name, thrashing against your hands, but this is something you’ve been doing from the age of eleven, when Fred and George figured out they could use their younger sibling to their advantage, despite the fact you can’t actually fly a broom yourself.

Charlie’s broom crashes to the floor and the two of you roll off it. You scramble up and sprint to the far side of the yard before Charlie can grab your foot and pull you back down for a scolding.

It’s with the professional on the ground that Draco is able to snatch the Snitch right out from under Ron’s nose. You cheer when Draco holds the golden ball in the air, jumping and clapping in your excitement.

“That was cheating!” Ron yells.

“I said that, mate,” Charlie calls back, but neither you nor Draco are listening. Draco comes back to the ground, stumbles off his broom and rushes towards you, the Snitch still in his hand. You jump into his arms, giving him a hug as he laughs heartily in your ear.

“That’s one way to win a Quidditch match,” he says. “Don’t do that again, though. Nearly gave me a bloody heart attack when you stood up.”

You pull away, keeping your arms around his neck. “Aw, were you worried about me?”

Draco scowls. “I’ll push you off the broom next time.”

You chuckle and press your lips to his. He melts in that way he only seems to when it’s you he’s melting into, his arm tightening on your waist, the other pressing the Snitch against your neck.

“Oh, bloody hell, Y/N-”

You pull away from Draco just as your mother appears in front of you, red-faced and furious.

“AND HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO STOP DIVING BETWEEN BROOMS? DO YOU WANT TO GET YOURSELF KILLED? HONESTLY, CHARLIE COULD HAVE DIED! Oh, hello Draco, dear - would you like some toast?”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter x reader #draco #draco fanfiction #draco fanfic #draco fic #draco x reader

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chishiyas-wig · 3 years

Text

Shattered

Chapter 1

Summary: Hunter randomly ended up in the human realm when he was 3, and 11 years later he finds himself in the boiling isles, where he meets Lilith, the raven lady

Camilla: Hunter, WAKE UP!

*Camilla had been telling Hunter to wake up for school in the past 15 minutes. She sighed as she put her coffee mug down on the table in the living room. Well atleast Luz was sick so she didn’t have to deal with waking her up today. Hunter finally came down after 10 minutes*

Camilla: Mijo you’re going to be late again!

Hunter: I know I know-

*Hunter grabbed his bag and headed for the door*

Camilla: Are you sure you don’t want breakfast?

Hunter: Yes mama, I’m sure. Byeee

*Hunter went out the door and waited for the bus. He opened his bag to drink some water but then a white owl appeared out of no where and took one of his school books*

Hunter: Huh-GET BACK HERE-

*He chased after the owl who entered an old looking house. A portal thingy opened and the owl went inside it. He closed his eyes and decided to go inside too. Hunter opened his eyes and checked his surroundings. He seemed to be in a wierd place with..trash*

Hunter: What kind of wierdo lives here….

*He got exited the place and saw the owl giving his book to a lady with raven hair and turquiose eyes*

Lilith: Hmmm…good job Snowball. We can use this book as fire for the kindling

*Hunter grabbed his book, turned around, and ran to the portal thingy*

Hunter: excusemethatsminethanksbyeeee-

*the portal closes*

Lilith: Oh you’re not going anywhere

*Lilith grabbed Hunter by his arm and snatched the book away*

Hunter: im sorry please don’t hurt me i was just trying to get my book ba-

Lilith: Hurt you? Why would I hurt you?

*Lilith tucked her hair behind her ears*

Hunter: Uhhh-wait your ears-

Lilith: What?

Hunter: I thought I was the only one with ears like that

Lilith: What do you mean? All witches have ears like that

Hunter: Witches?

Lilith: Yes

Hunter: Ok, well, I reeeaally need to get back home

Lilith: Where did you come from anyway?

Hunter: I came from that wierd portal

Lilith: You came from the human realm?

Hunter: Uhh...yeah I guess

Lilith: Why would you be in the human realm?

Hunter: The "human realm" is my home

Lilith: But you're a witch

Hunter: Look, I am not a witch, I need to get back to the human realm, now

Lilith: I don’t know how you ended up in the human realm. But, this is the demon realm. The Boiling Isles. Witches and demons live here

*Lilith took Hunter’s hand and lead him outside. She points to people*

Hunter: Woah. Wait this is all real?

Lilith: Mhm

*'This can't be real. It has to be a dream or something' he thought*

Hunter: You people do magic?

Lilith: Of course we do

Hunter: Well then if I’m a witch how come I’ve never been able to do magic?

Lilith: Can you cast a spell circle?

*Lilith makes a spell circle*

*Hunter tries but nothing happens*

Hunter: I’m not a witch. I can’t do magic

*he sighed*

Lilith: Well maybe you just haven't figured how to do it yet. I mean, you did come from the human realm, right? You never did magic before, maybe you just need to try to do magic for some time

Hunter: I-I don't know..this all still feels unreal. But, I do want to learn magic. Maybe if I do, I'll finally belong. I should be going back, but now I feel like I want to stay

Lilith: Hmm...isten kid, let’s make a deal. You can stay with me and I’ll teach you magic, but only if you work for me

*He thought about it for a while. 'Should I really stay? I guess I should. Only for a little while though...mami would be really worried...but I'm sure she'll be fine. I'll go back later. I really want to learn magic'*

Hunter: deal

Hunter: Now, for introductions….my name is Hunter

AN: I'm sorry if it's bad or if there's any mistakes. I might post another chapter...

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33934000/chapters/84386152

#the owl house #toh #shattered au #toh shattered au #toh hunter #toh luz #toh camilla #toh lilith #lilith the raven lady #toh au

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hellothirteenhere · 3 years

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen x Harry Potter

I feel as though every fandom has that obligatory multichapter Harry Potter!AU. Of course, that’s not to say that our amazing writers hadn’t been writing fic within this universe. (For example, check out seadawnn’s ‘Conquest of Hearts’ - Wholesome™ Itafushi that makes me smile every time I read it.) But I’m interested in seeing how a full-blown Jujutsu Kaisen universe would be like in an alternate Harry Potter-setting. So! I’ve been thinking long and hard about how it would play out and here are my headcanons for our very own Golden Trio! Couldn’t quite place them definitively in their Hogwarts Houses, so I would love to hear your opinions on where each of them should go, as well as your own personal headcanons.

Yuuji Itadori | Gryffindor/Hufflepuff (5th Year)

Ok, so here's the thing: typical shonen protagonist conventions tells me to put Yuuji Itadori in Gryffindor. And it makes complete sense! We see that he's brave - fucking demon possesses you and all you say is "What are you doing with my body?"?. But he's also willing to admit when he gets scared, like when he first faced a Special Grade. GryffindorJock!Itadori who is the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team is a mental image I'm not willing to let go of anytime soon. However, Yuuji is also an incredibly kind individual who just wants to save other people. Hufflepuff!Yuuji is that guy who is popular with everyone at Hogwarts, he cooks meatballs in the kitchens at midnight as he talks to the house elves as though they were close friends, and he would definitely take a curse or two in order to save his friends if the situation calls for it.

Background

Yuuji grew up as a mostly normal kid. Sure, there had been strange (almost magical, somehow) instances here or there but he was an energetic enough child that it never really occurred to him to dwell on them for too long.

As long as he could remember, it was just him and his grandfather. Supposedly, Yuuji had an older brother. But for some reasons that his grandfather refuse to tell him; he had to go away when Yuuji had been very young. He doesn’t even remember what his older brother looked like. But then again, Yuuji can’t even remember what their parents had been like - so he doesn’t really feel as though there was anything lacking in his upbringing. After all, how can you miss something you never had?

On his eleventh birthday, his grandfather solemnly sits Yuuji down and tells him that he was a wizard. He was a “Pureblood” - and potentially very powerful - wizard. His grandfather had been born a squib but he had known enough to explain to Yuuji the basics of the world that his parents had once belonged to.

Imagine: “Yer a wizard, Yuuji.” “….Sweet.”

His grandfather then hands him two things:

First, a letter from some Hog-Wash-Hagwarts?? Warthog? School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that he was to attend. His parents had gone there as well to learn magic.

Second, a long, sturdy piece of polished wood. When grandfather had taken it out of its box, Yuuji had looked at the wand skeptically - almost a hundred percent sure that the entire thing was one huge joke. But his grandfather was no prankster, after all, because as soon as his fingertips touched its surface, he felt a warm glow rush into his fingertips.

According to his grandfather, the wand had been his mother’s, passed on to his grandfather for safekeeping after she had died all those years ago.

When asked about the whereabouts of his father’s wand, his grandfather’s face turned dark. It was with Yuuji’s older brother, he said. His older brother who had also been attending the same school that he would be.

Headcanons

Itadori is one of the best Defense Against the Dark Arts students of their year. He also gets great grades for Charms and, much to everyone’s surprise, Potions. A Chaotic Good™ through-and-through, Itadori tends to forget to follow the very strict instructions that Potions Master Kento Nanami wrote at the blackboard, and yet despite eyeballing the ingredients, his Potion turns out great every time. HOW? No one knows.

His dorm room is filled with Muggle posters - it just feels too weird to have a magical poster of a tall woman with a big ass greeting him every time he woke up or entered his dorm room. He learned the hard way that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing when Todo gifted him a moving poster of Jennifer Lawrence.

He tries his best to collect Chocolate Frog cards, bless his heart - but he always tend to lose them in the journey between Hogwarts and his home every summer. Little does he know that Kugisaki and Toge pilfer the ultra-rare ones that he somehow manages to pull in a semi-regular basis.

Megumi Fushiguro | Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw (5th Year)

Primarily, I want Ravenclaw!Megumi Fushiguro as an aesthetic. We already know that he likes to read non-fiction books in his spare time (babes, i love you but that is nerd behavior), and he's shown that he's very sharp and intuitive when it comes to battles. He is also very knowledgeable about the Jujutsu World. Also, pretty boy looks damn good in blue. I can just imagine Megumi as the quiet, brooding Ravenclaw who is somehow friends with every insane person in Hogwarts. However, Hufflepuff!Megumi embodies who he is as a character. He's loyal to his friends and family, selfless when it comes to protecting the others, and he's willing to work hard behind the scenes even if he doesn't get recognition for it. We also saw how Megumi was willing to be the sacrifice bunt if it meant that Kugisaki had the chance to move forward during the baseball scene.

Background

Megumi came from an aristocratic Pureblood family, the Ancient and Most Noble House of Zenin. An extremely powerful wizarding family rumored to be distant relatives of Salazar Slytherin himself. Only - his father Toji had been born a Squib who married his mother just to spite his conservative family. Much to his surprise, however, Megumi was born not only an incredibly talented wizard but also the first parseltongue of the Zenin family in years.

Professor Gojo - back when he was still an Auror and not the DADA instructor at Hogwarts - came to the Fushiguro family household after he had apprehended Fushiguro Toji or, as the wizarding world commonly knows him as: the Sorcerer Killer. Much to his surprise, he doesn't find Toji's wife nor his stepdaughter - instead, he finds tiny Megumi talking to his pet garden snake, Orochi. He ended up taking Megumi under his wing, letting him live at the Gojo family’s home and later taking him to Diagon Alley a week before he started in Hogwarts.

Gojo buying Megumi his pet owl, Nue.

No, YOU’RE crying.

Of course, the Zenin family kick up a fuss about custody. It's only Gojo's status as the strongest wizard alive - as well as his well-placed threat to make the knowledge that the notorious Sorcerer Killer had once been a Zenin known to the wizarding world - that keeps them quiet.

Headcanons

Megumi's best subject is Care of Magical Creatures - though he’s also great at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Students are, by school regulations, only really allowed one (1) pet (an owl/cat/toad). And legally, Megumi has his horned owl, Nue. It is, however, an open secret within the Hogwarts community that Megumi Fushiguro walks around the castle with his pet snake Orochi wrapped around his wrist under his cloak. No one questions that Megumi arrives at Hogsmeade, conveniently trailed by the same black and white dogs every weekend. His roommates learn to turn their heads the other way when the bunnies under Megumi’s bed escape their cage.

He used the expansion charm in order to house his ever-growing collection of pets. Imagine Newt Scamander’s suitcase but, instead of a large sprawling space, it’s a cozy room filled with books and pets and pet paraphernalia.

He’s not competitive enough to play Quidditch, but he attends every game to support his friends. He also attends their practices sometimes but just sits at the pitch to read his book, do homework, or take a nap.

Half-Veela!Megumi make brain go brrrrr

Kugisaki Nobara| Slytherin/Gryffindor (5th Year)

Out of everyone, I had the hardest time placing the Kugisaki. I feel as though Slytherin!Kugisaki is the girl who dropped everything in order to go live in the city - the girl who was willing to do anything, even join a career with a high possibility of dying, just to follow her dreams. She is unapologetic about being herself, highly resourceful, and is one luxurious queen. But Kugisaki is also incredibly brave - unafraid to stand up for the girl who was being ostracized by everyone in their part of the countryside. I implore you to imagine Gryffindor!Kugisaki pulling the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat in order to save other people.

Background

Kugisaki is a Muggleborn who used to live in the quiet countryside. She’s an incredibly talented witch who started showing signs of magic at an early age - something that had frightened her, especially because it was clear that it also frightened her parents. She tried to suppress her abilities, trying to fit into society for a while - that is, until a girl named Saori moved in from the city.

Saori had been a Pureblood witch who had grown up in the Wizarding World. She had been the first person told Kugisaki that her magic was a blessing instead of a freak of nature or something that she had to hide. Saori talked to Kugisaki about the wonders of their world that she would one day get to take part in. She told Kugisaki about Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and all these wonderful places that she would get to go to.

However, because they were a Pureblood family, Saori and her family did not know how to integrate within the Muggle community. Not too long after their arrival, horrible rumors about their family started spreading - that they were cultists, satan worshippers, etc. Eventually, they decided to move away from the country. Before leaving, Saori made Kugisaki promise to find each other one day and to never turn back on who she truly is.

When Kugisaki first received her letter from Professor Shoko Ieiri who mysteriously appeared in their doorstop the night of her eleventh birthday, the professor explained to her parents about magic and the wizarding - only, Kugisaki was only half listening.

Unlike her parents, she wasn’t surprised one bit - it was only a matter of time, after all, and she was finally going to get to go to Hogwarts. Surely, Saori had already graduated by the time she entered but it was definitely one step closer to finding her childhood friend.

Headcanons

Kugisaki has pretty good grades all around - but she is definitely known as the best in their year at Charms. She also has great grades at Defense Against the Dark Arts. She and Yuuji definitely almost failed History of Magic, though. They have too much energy to just sit quietly and take notes in class - especially one taught by a ghost.

Every store owner in Hogsmeade knows Kugisaki by name - and by extention, they know Yuuji and Megumi too. She has long since mastered the art of dragging her friends all around the shops and still not paying a single Knut by the end of their Hogsmeade visit. At the end of every visit, Yuuji and Megumi swears that it would be the last time and yet, every visit, she still manages to wrangle both of them into coming with her

In Potions, Kugisaki is a force to be reckoned with. Her cauldron always appeared to be on the verge of exploding and yet, somehow, a supernatural force (or by the sheer strength of her own willpower) seem to keep her from completely fucking up every time.

BeaterNobaraBeaterNobaraBeaterNobaraBeaterNobara

COMING UP

Slytherin!Sukuna Ryoumen

Ex-Auror-turned-DADA-Professor!Gojo

Potions-Master-not-Professor!Nanami

Slytherin!Maki Zenin

Ravenclaw!Inumaki Toge

Hufflepuff!Panda

52 notes · View notes

mother-shipper · 3 years

Text

I Could Not Ask You Where You Came From

I Could Not Ask You Where You Came From:(AO3) Tired of being such a disappointment to his father, six year old Steve decides maybe it would be better for everyone if he just...disappeared. When a human appears in his forest, Billy wants him gone. But what should have been a quick ridding of a pest, soon turns into something longer, better, lovelier.

Steve ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He didn’t care anymore. It was dark and the brush was high, the twigs and saplings cutting against his skin. The light of the moon barely broke through the canopy, and Steve could only just make out the trees around him. It was dangerous. He knew that. But… why did it even matter anymore? He wouldn’t be leaving the forest. That was the point. His feet hit the dirt, loud in the silence. All the creatures of the night had gone quiet as they always did when predators came near. Steve didn’t know how long he’d been running or how far from home he was when his foot caught on a tree root. He was sent flying forward, hitting the ground hard. He whimpered as pain rolled through him, sniffling and finally letting the tears flow. He couldn’t even run away right. He couldn’t even get kidnapped. His father was right. Steve was a disgrace and that was all he would ever be. He sat up and wiped at his nose with his sleeve. Who was he kidding? Even the fae wouldn’t take a child as useless and stupid as him. He moved to lean against the trunk of the nearest tree, pulling his knees up to his chest. His own father didn’t even want him. Steve buried his head in his folded arms and wept, the pain in his heart winning out.

When the sun went down, the forest came to life. Flowers started to glow, pinks and purples dotting the forest floor and shedding their light on everything around them. The stags wandered the tall grasses, their racks taking on the same ethereal glow. Small birds, the color of glittering jewels, flitted about. Everything came to life in a way no man had ever laid eyes upon and as the forest woke, so did her guardian.

Billy rose from his nest, stretching his arms high above his head and his wings out so wide the feathers quivered. He rubbed at one eye and looked down from the heights of the tallest tree in the forest. Moths came to flutter about his head, playing under and around his horns. They spoke in whispers, telling him the news of the land. He laid his head on the edge of the nest and listened, eyes still heavy as he fought sleep. But there was something that snapped him awake instantly. A human. There was a human in his forest. Billy's bright blue eyes snapped open and he growled.

"Where?"

The moths whispered to him and flitted away, winding around and down the trunk of the tree. Billy spread his wings wide, flapping them once, twice, then dropping out of the canopy. He spread his wings and let them catch him. They carried him on the wind, gliding through the trees. Mushrooms and frogs scuttled along beneath him as he flew but he wasn't looking to play. Not right now. Not with a threat in their midst.

Billy was fast and silent. His feet touched the ground and he spotted it. It was so… puny. Billy crept closer, inspecting. It was all curled up, sniffling and crying pathetically. Billy tilted his head curiously, eyes narrowing. It could be a trap. Humans were vile, sneaky creatures. They couldn’t be trusted. But… he’d never seen such a tiny one. This didn’t look like any man he’d ever seen. Billy leaned in carefully, sniffing at it. It smelled human. Billy’s nose wrinkled in disgust. The human’s head lifted suddenly, brown eyes big and wet and startled where they fixed on him.

“You’re a human,” he said, eyes narrowing. “But you’re so small.”

The human sniffled and wiped at its eyes. “So are you.”

Billy growled at that, puffing himself up as big as he could get, feathers fluffing up indignantly. “I’m big enough!”

The human stared at him, transfixed on his wings and his horns when it seemed to dawn on him. His face turned nervous.

“Are you here to steal me?”

Billy snorted. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a fairy.”

“Oh.” Billy didn’t know what he was talking about but this human said it so confidently that Billy didn’t want to seem stupid for not understanding. He paused. “No. Are you here to kill me?”

“No!” The human shouted. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a human,” Billy sneered.

“I… no.” The human stared at him for a moment. “I’m Steve,” he finally said. Billy didn’t answer. “If you don’t want to steal me then why are you here?” Billy folded his arms over his chest, leaning over Steve. “Do I come to your house and ask you why you’re there? No. This is my forest. You don’t belong here, so get out!”

Steve looked wounded by that and it gave Billy pause. He thought the boy might start to cry again.

“Why are you here anyway? All the animals your kind like to murder are sleeping. You won’t find anything to hunt.” “I didn’t come to hunt,” Steve said softly. “Then why. Are. You. Here?!” Billy asked, punctuating each word with a stomp of his bare feet. “Go. Home.”

“I can’t,” Steve answered quietly. “I… they don’t want me there.”

That caught Billy off guard. Didn’t want him? “But… surely you have a mother,” he spat, “a father. A family.”

“He hates me,” Steve said, his voice small and thick with coming tears. “I make him mad all the time. And that makes my mom sad. Then they fight and it’s all my fault. So I left.”

That made Billy’s chest ache. The smell of gunpowder and burning flesh filled his nose and the angry screaming of men ringing in his ears threatened to take over and he had to shake it away.

“Well, you can’t stay here. No humans are allowed in my forest. Not ever.” Steve sighed sadly. What was he going to do if even the fae didn’t want him? He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know where he was now. Billy planted his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

“You wouldn’t make it out here anyway. You should be happy I found you before the bears or the wolves.” He held out a hand for Steve. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your village.”

Steve took Billy’s hand reluctantly and let himself be pulled up. Billy’s strength surprised him as he found himself on his feet in a split second. It was as if he weighed nothing. The fairy let go of his hand and turned to survey the area. After taking stock of their situation, Billy nodded to himself.

“Alright. This way.”

Billy took the lead and Steve followed close behind. Right before his eyes, Steve saw the forest start to transform. Reacting to the presence of its guardian, it all came alive. He stared in awe as the world around them shifted. The darkness was chased away as bluebells bloomed and cast a blue glow at their feet, lighting a path through the trees. The moss gave off a bright, fluorescent green light in speckled patterns. Fireflies started to float through the air, circling around them.

“Wow,” Steve breathed. He stopped, turning to take it all in. One of the fireflies lighted on his nose and Steve giggled. He crossed his eyes, trying to get a better look at it. “What?” Billy asked.

“It’s so pretty,” Steve answered. “Is this what it usually looks like?”

“No.” Billy leaned down, touching one of the bluebells gently with his fingertips. It sparkled at the contact and made the softest, sweetest ringing sound Steve had ever heard. “The humans still rip the flowers up this far in. There’s way more closer to the heart.” “I wish I could see it.”

Billy turned to Steve, looking him up and down. He took in the awed look on Steve’s face, the gentle way he scooped the firefly from his nose to cradle it carefully in his hands.

“Come on,” he told Steve, turning off the lit path. “If you think you can keep up, that is.”

Steve watched as the fairy took off at a run, dumbfounded for just a moment before his brain caught up.

“Hey, wait!” He followed after the winged boy, running as fast as his feet would carry him. He never took his eyes off the glistening, black plumage and yet he was suddenly gone. Steve skidded to a halt. He looked around at the darkened forest again searching for any sign of his guide.

“Where’d you go?” He called. Steve turned in a circle and looked up into the treetops. Curling his hands around his mouth, he shouted. “Hello?”

“Shhh!”

Steve reeled around. Blue eyes stared into his, so close they nearly touched noses and Steve shrieked. He stumbled backwards, arms wheeling to try and keep balance and Billy hooked a finger in his shirt, tugging him back into balance again.

“Are you all this easily startled? And loud.”

Steve didn’t answer, just tried to catch his breath from all the running and the scare on top of that. Billy smirked.

“Alright. I guess I’ll take it easy on you.” He turned away again and laid his palm against the bark of the nearest tree. Everything began to glow again. This time there were more colors. Pinks and purples mixed in with the blues of the bluebells. The trees glittered with their speckles of green and even the mushrooms started to give off soft light. A new pathway was lit, showing them the way to wherever this fairy boy was leading Steve.

Steve didn’t ask questions. He followed after the other boy again, sticking closer this time. The shining eyes of owls and lizards and other night time creatures looked out at them from the trees and Steve wanted to stop. He wanted to look at them all up close. To touch them. Instead, he stayed with his guide as they moved ever forward. Billy slowed to a stop on the path, turning to face Steve.

“Close your eyes,” he demanded.

Steve covered his eyes obediently. Satisfied, Billy pushed Steve through the opening in the trees and out into a clearing.

“This,” he said smugly, “is my forest.”

Steve peeked through his fingers carefully at first. He gasped and dropped his hands at once in awe of what was before him. The whole place sparkled with light. There was a pond, the fish beneath the water lighting it with their scales all glowing in different colors. The cattails waved back and forth, bathed in the light of both the water and the dragonflies that clung to them, looking like they were made of glass. Fireflies and moths floated around in the tall grass. It was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen.

“Pretty,” he breathed. Billy smiled proudly.

He walked past Steve out into the lush, tall grass and flopped down into it. Fireflies clustered where the grass had curled out around him, almost like a cradle. He stretched his wings out beneath himself and sighed.

“How come it never looked like this before?” Steve asked, crouching down at the edge of the pool to look more closely at the gemstone fish gliding along beneath the surface. “The grown ups all say it’s so dark and scary out here.”

“Because,” Billy frowned. “The forest doesn’t like them. It hides from monsters.”

“But… Mr. Hopper says the monsters are in the woods. He says they eat kids like me up.”

“Well, he’s a liar,” Billy snapped, sitting up. “Humans are the monsters. They come into the forest and just take things that aren’t theirs. They cut down the trees and kill the animals and pick the flowers without even asking.” Billy curled up into a ball then, arms wrapping around his knees. “Humans ruin everything.”

Steve stared at the fairy boy, eyes wide in surprise. He had never done that. Ms. Joyce and his mom and his dad had never done that. But… Steve thought of his father. He thought of the screaming, the anger, the disappointment. His eyes turned sad and he looked down into the water, swirling his fingertip in the coolness of it as the fish circled.

“I think my daddy’s a monster,” he nearly whispered.

There was a silence that hung in the air between them, both lost in their thoughts which were more similar than they knew. Steve could feel the other boy next to him though he never heard him move. It was still, quiet, comfortable. Then a hand just barely nudged Steve and he tipped forward.

“Hey!” He shouted indignantly just before he fell forward and splashed into the water. It was just barely deep enough for Steve to go completely under and he surfaced, spluttering.

“What was that fo-!” The fairy wasn’t on the bank where Steve had last seen him.

He brushed his sopping wet hair back out of his eyes and scanned the shore, turning to find Billy only inches from him again. Only his eyes peeked above the water and they sparkled with mischief. Billy came up, cheeks big and he spit a fountain of water at Steve.

“Hey!”

Billy laughed and Steve felt the annoyance bleed out of him. Instead, he looked at Billy, the water dripping from his blonde curls and glistening droplets clinging to his freckled face. He looked happy. Steve liked to see the boy happy. He splashed Billy back and the boy sputtered in surprise. He hadn’t expected retaliation but he took it in stride and splashed back at Steve. It turned into a water war, the two of them bobbing around the pond on their toes and aiming swipes at each other.

They were having fun but it was still the middle of the night. The water was cold and only getting colder and Steve, being human, could only handle so much. His lips started to lose color and his teeth chattered but he still kept going, not wanting to give in to Billy. The fairy noticed though. He stopped splashing and grabbed Steve instead, pulling him onto the shore. They were both breathless but giggled happily. Billy shook himself off, water flying everywhere and making the dragonflies scatter.

Steve curled into a ball, shivering and teeth chattering through his grin. He had never been allowed to play like this before. His father didn’t like him to associate with the commoners. He told Steve it “made them think too much of themselves.” Now that he had the chance, he didn’t want it to end. But Billy seemed to have other ideas. He sat behind Steve, not caring that he was getting all wet again and wrapped his arms around the shivering, human boy. He pulled Steve in close and curled his miraculously dry wings around them both.

“Why didn’t you say you were cold, stupid?”

“I’m f-f-fine,” Steve tried to argue as though his chattering wouldn’t give him away. “Y-you’re j-just m-m-mad I was w-w-winning.”

“Were not,” Billy huffed.

“W-were t-t-too.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “You can’t get too cold. When things get too cold, they die.”

Steve just shrugged. “W-wouldn’t have to g-go home then.”

Billy frowned but didn’t answer, just curled tighter around Steve to warm him up. They sat together like that for a while, Steve asking questions about the forest.

How did the plants and bugs glow like that? Could everything in the forest do it? Which tree was the tallest? Which thing was his favorite? Steve’s favorite were rabbits. Did he have any rabbit friends?

Billy listened and answered as best he could. Magic. Not everything but a lot of them. His tree was the tallest in the whole forest. He liked the luna moths the most and he was friends with everything that lived in his forest.

“Everything?”

“Of course. It’s mine. I take care of it and I take care of them.”

Steve huddled closer. “It must be nice to have so many friends. I wish I had some.”

“You don’t have any friends?” Billy asked. Steve shook his head.

“Daddy says I’m not s’posta mingle with the commoners. He says I need kids of status to play with. But we’re the only blue bloods in the village so I’m not allowed to play with anyone else.”

“What’s a blue blood?” Billy asked, his nose wrinkling.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugged. “But dad says we’re the only ones.”

Billy huffed. Humans were so strange.

Birds started to chirp in the trees, waking with the first lightening of the sky. It wasn’t yet sunrise but the inky darkness was starting to lift and go gray with the first signs of morning.

“Come on,” Billy said, standing them up. “I’ll take you back now. I know a shortcut.”

A now dry and warm Steve followed after Billy reluctantly. He didn’t want to go back. He had planned on disappearing. But the forest wasn’t his home. It was Billy’s. They moved through the trees, flowers blooming up to guide them just as they had before and it wasn’t long until they reached the treeline. Just beyond the brush, Steve could see his house, still and quiet as his family and the servants slept.

“I’m Billy,” the fairy told Steve, breaking his train of thought. He looked over but the boy was looking straight at the dirt, hands behind his back. “And… you can come and visit the forest again. If you want to.”

“Really?” Steve smiled wide.

“Yeah,” Billy told him. “You’re okay. For a human anyway. So you can come back.”

Billy brought a hand out, revealing one of the bluebells. He offered it to Steve. “Just ask the flowers. They’ll show you where to go.”

Steve took the bluebell with a smile, holding the flower in his hands gently.

“And make sure you give it water, okay?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll take good care of it. I promise.”

Billy watched Steve cradle the flower he’d given him as if it was the most precious thing in the world and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

“You better,” he answered. “And I’ll know if you don’t.”

Steve just smiled wider. “I’ll come play again soon. Promise. Bye, Billy!”

Billy watched Steve go, feeling an emptiness settle in his heart. Steve would come back. He promised. And Steve wasn’t like other humans. Billy trusted him. With a flutter of wings, Billy was gone, returning to his forest as Steve settled down in his bed.

“Are you the only thing from the story books?”

Billy tilted his head curiously at Steve. The two of them walked along the forest path, Steve doing his best to keep up with the forest guardian.

“What are those?”

“You know,” Steve insisted, climbing over a tree root that Billy floated over with ease. “Storybooks. Once upon a time and happily ever after? Princes saving princesses, knights, all that stuff.”

Billy shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

Steve paused there, astride the root of the tree, and looked at Billy in surprise.

“You’ve really never read a story before?”

“Reading is a human thing,” Billy sneered. “We don’t need your symbols. We tell our stories.”

Steve rolled his eyes, used to Billy’s distaste for things he deemed too human by now. He’d been coming to the forest for a few years by this point and he was still learning new things every time he wandered there.

“But are you the only one?”

“The only what?” Billy asked.

“The only magic thing. There’s fairies in the books but there’s different kinds. Big ones and small ones and mean ones and nice ones. And there’s magic animals too.”

Billy smiled. While it was decidedly human, he couldn’t help but love Steve’s curiosity. The wonder he found in the mundane, as if every day was his first. Billy led Steve further along. He took him deeper into the forest than ever before. They pulled to a stop at the foot of the most magnificent sight to behold in such a magical place. The tree was huge. Hundreds of years undisturbed had allowed it to tower above all the others. It was so thick around it would take ten men at full arm’s length to wrap around it. Steve stood and stared up at it, awestruck.

The heart of the forest.

Billy made a gesture with his hand and one of the roots beneath Steve shuddered. Steve yelped in surprise and clung to it as it started to rise. It pulled itself up and out of the dirt, stretching higher and higher toward the canopy until it paused at the top. Cradled at the apex of the branches, safely hidden in the thick leaves, was a large bird’s nest. It was big enough to fit two adults and Steve gaped at it.

Billy landed inside it, plopping down cross-legged in the center.

“Come on.”

Steve hesitated. He looked over the edge of the tree root, seeing just how long the way down was which made him cling tighter.

“Don’t be a baby,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “You won’t fall if you’re in the nest.”

Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting himself slide down the root until his feet hit the edge of the nest.

“There you go,” Billy told him. He reached out and tugged Steve gently backward. Once he was safely on the floor, the root began its descent back to its home in the dirt.

“What lives here?” Steve asked, marveling at the structure that surrounded them.

“It’s something very dangerous,” Billy said. He narrowed his eyes, curling his hands into menacing looking talons. “A beast with claws and horns.”

Steve swallowed hard, holding onto Billy. His eyes flicked around, looking for any sign of the creature.

“It’s really strong and fast,” Billy continued. “And it’s the handsomest thing in the whole forest.”

Steve snorted and shoved at Billy’s chest, laughing as he realized what Billy was doing.

“You doofus.”

“What?” Billy grinned. “You asked.”

Steve looked out over the forest from above, seeing just how far it reached. He could see for miles. Even Steve’s village was visible from their perch, the tower of the manor jutting up among the distant, simple cottages.

“You can see everything from here.” “Yeah,” Billy told him. “That’s kinda the point.”

Steve ran a hand over the lip of the construct. “It's softer than it looks. Did you build it yourself?” Billy grimaced and looked away. Steve had noticed that every so often, one of his questions would strike a nerve. Whatever it was that was upsetting him, Billy never said and Steve didn’t push.

“Hey,” Billy said, recomposing himself with a plastered-on smile. “You wanna see something cool?”

“Yeah!”

Billy rose to his feet and moved gracefully along the ridge of the nest. He circled around to one of the thick arms of the tree. Laying his palm against the bark, he whispered something under his breath that Steve couldn’t make out but that tickled his senses. As he spoke, vines began to materialize and weave themselves along the branch. They made their way down to the nest and began to ensnare it with long, green tendrils, weaving around until the outer walls were covered in an intricate pattern. Steve watched with wide eyes as the vines settled before bursting with pink blooms.

“Pretty!” Steve ran a finger gently over one of the velvety petals. “How do you do that?”

“Magic,” Billy answered, plopping down beside Steve again.

Drawn by the flowers, butterflies came to surround them. They fluttered around the nest, landing on the blooms to drink their fill of nectar. Steve was completely enraptured by it all. A butterfly landed on his shoulder and Steve marveled as he heard a tiny voice in his ear.

“The forest is the town of trees

Where they live quite at their ease,

With their neighbors at their side

Just as we in cities wide.”

“They can talk?” Steve asked, turning to Billy.

“Sort of,” Billy answered. He leaned back on one arm. He raised the other up, held out a finger and one of them landed there, lazily flapping its wings. “They can only repeat things they’ve heard and usually only in those funny patterns.”

“The world is so full

of a number of things,

I’m sure we should all

be as happy as kings.”

Billy smiled softly at it. “I think it makes it easier for them to remember.”

As though the flowers were an invitation, all sorts of things began to gather around and join them in the tree top. There were lizards that glimmered like jewels darting around and clinging fast to the rough tree bark. Birds flitted around the branches above them with feathers that seemed to glow under the sun as they chirped to each other in harmonies. Mushrooms scuttled around on tiny legs, laughing and chasing each other around at their feet.

“Is it what you expected?” Billy asked.

“Better,” Steve said, cradling one of the little mushrooms in his palms where it bounced happily. "What about unicorns?" Steve asked, eyes wide and bright.

Billy's face fell again.

“No,” he answered solemnly. "They left… when she left."

"Who?"

Billy didn't answer. He went quiet, fists clenching at his sides.

"Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, Billy stood. He took two steps back to the edge of the nest and, without a word, dropped backward and fell head first from the tree.

“Billy!”

Steve rushed to the side and leaned out, looking for any sign of the other boy but… there was nothing. It was as if he just vanished.

“Billy,” he said, softer this time.

There was a sudden tap on his shoulder and Steve startled, reeling quickly around. Billy was there, standing behind him as if nothing had happened and cradling something to his chest.

“What are you-” Steve started.

Billy cautiously opened his cupped hands and a little reptilian head poked out. Its scales were a fiery orange color, its belly a bright yellow and pale, tiny horns sprouted from its head. Its blue eyes raked over Steve suspiciously before crawling out of Billy's hands. Its long, slinky body scaled Billy's arm to perch on his shoulder. A lengthy tail curled around it, leathery little wings flapping.

Steve stared at the creature, open mouthed and starry eyed.

"Is that a dragon?!"

"Her name's Max," Billy said softly. "She's the only one left so I have to keep her extra safe. Even if she's a pain sometimes."

Max snorted indignantly and nipped at his ear. Billy flicked her nose in retaliation. "Most of the time!"

Steve smiled. "I think she's pretty."

Max turned her attention to the human in their midst and tilted her head curiously at him. She was hesitant and didn’t seem to trust him, much like Billy when they first met. Seeming to decide he wasn’t worth her time, she made her way down Billy’s body again. The mushrooms surrounded her immediately and began climbing all over her in delight. They bounced and circled her, trying to coax her to play with them much to Max’s clear displeasure. She squeaked her offense and tried to nip at them but they were fast. Steve knelt down and gently shooed them away and Max took the available escape by slithering up Steve’s arm instead. From her higher perch, she gave another indignant squeak at the little creatures below.

Steve laughed and Billy felt his heart flutter in his chest.

Steve stepped carefully through the house, mindful of the creaking boards and the rickety third stair. He didn’t need anyone waking up. It was hard enough to get time to himself these days. Father insisted he had to learn to be a gentleman and that meant more tutors than ever before. That meant sitting at a table for hours getting rapped on the knuckles for picking up the wrong fork, people constantly pushing and pulling him upright to keep his posture perfect. It meant falling asleep when he was meant to be studying the great poets and his father being even more demanding of him. Steve didn’t have a free moment during the day and he presumed that was intentional.

He donned the dark cloak he kept tucked in the cupboard beneath the staircase, pulling the hood over his head as he carefully crept through the kitchens to the servants’ entrance. It was small and hidden and much quieter than the ornate, front entrance. It also led directly to the gardens which was the fastest route to his goal, the reason for his father’s hawklike focus on his whereabouts. Steve slipped into the darkness of the forest.

Navigating the high brush and dense undergrowth was second nature by now. Steve didn’t deviate from his original path, heading steadily deeper until he was certain he was no longer visible to the sleeping houses of the village. When he was sure it was safe, he paused and reached into his breast pocket. From it, he pulled the beautiful, clustered bluebell. It had survived through eight whole winters, never faltering. It was Steve’s most treasured possession. Cradling it in his hands, he whispered to it.

“Take me to him.”

He watched as the flower began to glow just as it had every time before. It wasn’t long before the rest of the forest followed suit. Dormant flowers opened and luminesced and the fireflies Steve so loved came to swarm around him in a flurry of light. He smiled as they rose around him, letting them guide him along the path. Steve loved this place so desperately. He felt wanted here. He felt whole in its wild embrace. Flowers and fireflies and so many other animals came out to greet him and followed along closely. He was no longer a predator here. He was a guest. A friend. But the most important creature was still missing from the scene.

Steve kept going, deeper and deeper until he reached the heart. Dropping his hood, Steve smiled and approached the trunk. He laid his palm against the bark reverently. The energy pulsing beneath his touch was comforting and it never failed to inspire awe in him. There was so much life here. It was home to so many things. It was the epicenter of the magic that protected this forest and all that called it home. Steve laid his forehead against it and smiled.

“May I go up?�� he asked politely. There was a rush of warmth through him. Permission. Carefully, Steve found a familiar foothold and started to climb. Hand over hand, picking around for each safe place to put his weight, Steve made his ascent. He knew this tree better than his own home by this point and the creatures of the forest surrounded him in welcome.

He was just over halfway up when his confidence betrayed him. He got careless and missed his footing. Steve slipped, his eyes wide with fear as he realized he was plummeting back to the forest floor. His stomach was in his shoes and his heart raced as branches and leaves blew past him, none of them strong enough to catch himself on. His brain finally caught up with what was happening and Steve closed his eyes and let out a terrified scream. Then everything just… stopped. There was no rushing wind, no sensation of falling. Hesitantly, Steve peeked one eye open.

Billy smirked down at him, his eyes shining with mirth and his arms supporting all of Steve’s weight where he cradled him against his chest. He held Steve as though he weighed nothing, his otherworldly strength making the task look laughably easy.

“That’s five,” he teased, setting Steve back on his feet on the forest floor. “You’re such a clutz.”

“That is not five,” Steve argued, his cheeks flushing pink as he pouted at Billy. “I would have been fine if I hadn’t been distracted.”

“But you were,” Billy argued smugly, “and you fell and I saved your life. For the fifth time.” “You could have just helped me up in the first place,” Steve complained.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes at the fairy. Billy was taller now, Steve only just surpassing him. His blonde curls were longer, thicker and wild looking. His appearance was starting to shift as Steve’s was. Baby fat still clung to his freckled face but the rest of him was getting steadily leaner. Steve had become more lanky than lean but his body was still plump and rounded in places, belying his tender age of fourteen.

“Well, if you’re going to be that way, maybe I’ll just keep my gift to myself,” Steve huffed.

Billy’s eyes went wide and his smug face fell.

“Wha- I-” Billy spluttered. “You can’t do that! I saved your life!”

“And then you made fun of me.”

“That’s not how presents work,” Billy pouted. “You can’t just change your mind.”

Steve gave an exaggerated sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Fine. I guess you can still have it,” he teased.

Though he tried to seem disinterested, Steve was too good at reading Billy by now to miss the undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. He reached into his pockets, finding the cool, leather binding he was searching for. Steve pulled out one of the small poetry books his tutor had given him, offering it up for Billy. He wasn’t a big fan. Most of the time, he didn’t understand the appeal of the pretty language and imagery. Why not just say what you meant? But Billy loved it. Steve had taught him how to read long ago and the other boy could never get enough despite his initial dismissal of reading and writing as “human stuff”. Steve wondered just how excited Billy would get if he knew about libraries.

Billy took the book in his hands, turning it over with starry eyes.

“It’s a poetry book,” Steve told him. “I know you like them and I thought maybe you could teach the butterflies some new ones.”

Billy ran his palm over the cover, feeling the dips in the leather where the letters were painted in a glittering gold.

“Aren’t they going to notice when you come to class without it?” Billy asked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Probably. I’ll just tell them I lost it. It’ll take at least another month to get a new copy from the bookseller so I won’t have to sit through any more poetry lessons in the meantime.”

“No,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. “Just lessons on how to eat and stand and dress and ugh! I don’t know how your kind has survived this long if you’re still learning all that.”

Steve laughed. “It’s not really learning how to do those things as much as it is learning the proper way. I have to learn how to be a gentleman.”

“That’s dumb,” Billy said, nose wrinkling. “Why can’t you just be a Steve?”

Steve felt his heart twinge at the question he’d asked himself so many times. Why couldn’t he just be him? Why wasn’t that enough? But those arguments with his father were fruitless and only widened the rift between them and left his mother upset.

“It’s not all bad,” Steve told him instead. “Some of it I actually like. I’ve had a few dance lessons now and they’re actually enjoyable.”

Billy rolled his eyes harder, letting his head drop back and groaning dramatically.

"Why do humans have to put rules on everything?” He protested. “You don't learn dancing. You feel it."

"But sometimes the learning is the fun of it,” Steve told him. “Here. Let me show you."

Steve stepped up to stand toe to toe with Billy, gently taking the book from his hands. Max glided over next to them, coming up to about Billy’s hip now and finally able to support her own weight with stronger, more practiced wings. She took the book from Steve and headed up the tree with it without being asked. It would go with all the other things Steve had gifted Billy, tucked away in a little hollow where it would be safe.

Billy looked flustered as Steve turned his attention back to him and took his right hand.

“This hand goes here,” he said, guiding Billy’s hand to rest on his shoulder.

“And this hand goes here.” He clasped Billy’s waist with his left hand, the palm fitting there like it was made to. “And…” He clasped Billy’s free hand in his, holding them up to shoulder height.

“There,” Steve said, smiling at Billy. The boy’s whole face burned red, his blue eyes staring pointedly at Steve’s collarbone, refusing to meet his eyes. “This is stupid,” he grumbled but Steve didn’t pay it any mind.

“It starts like this.” Steve took a careful step forward with his left foot, giving Billy time to move his own foot back.

“Then this.” He moved his right foot forward and to the right, waiting for Billy to follow. Billy stared down, trying to keep up with Steve’s movements and pick up on the pattern.

"Don't look at your feet. Just follow my lead."

"Why do you get to lead?" Billy protested.

"Are you teaching me then?"

"Alright, alright."

His feet came together, right foot back, left foot back and left, feet together and back where they started.

“See? It’s easy.”

“I don’t know,” Billy said. “This is weird. And there’s not even any music.” “Sure there is,” Steve told him. “Just listen.”

Billy paused, straining his ears to hear but there wasn’t anything coming from the town he could pick up.

“I think you’re hearing things.”

“Nope. It’s all right here,” Steve insisted. He started to move, counting out loud to himself in threes.

One. The croak of a frog. Two, three. Crickets chirping. One. An owl hooted. Two, three. Doves cooed to each other in the trees.

Billy stared at Steve in awe. He was listening to the forest. The sounds Billy knew so well he all but tuned them out by now started to jump out one by one, coming together into a beautiful symphony. Steve listened to the forest and heard it singing to them.

Billy moved with Steve, letting the human that had bonded so deeply with his forest guide him. Steve smiled encouragingly as they moved just a bit faster. “See,” he told Billy. “You’re getting it.”

Yes, Billy thought, he was. He let his wings spread out behind him, broad and strong and, with one powerful stroke, lifted them both off the ground. The rush of air swirled around them, picking up the leaves and flower petals in its pull. The fireflies followed in a brilliant display and they were surrounded by a glowing cyclone. Steve laughed brightly as he watched them but Billy’s eyes were only for Steve. When the human’s chestnut eyes met his, shining and happy, soft, he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. Billy pulled Steve in closer to him. Their bodies pressed together and Billy hesitantly moved in.

His eyes slid shut and his lips pressed against Steve’s. Steve breathed in sharply, unprepared for the sudden gesture and even less prepared for the spark it sent through him but that didn’t stop him from kissing Billy right back. It was awkward and chaste, neither of them knowing what they were doing, only that it felt… right. Like Steve’s hand on Billy’s waist, it fit.

They separated and Billy pressed his forehead to Steve’s.

“I… that was-”

“Good,” Steve finished, hearing the uncertainty in Billy’s voice and stopping it in its tracks. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” Billy asked softly.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed back. He smiled wide and leaned in to kiss Billy all over again.

Steve laid in the tall grass, staring up at the stars and tracing the constellations with his finger.

“That one’s Ursa Major. The bear,” he explained. Billy snorted a laugh and pushed the hair back off Steve’s forehead, the human’s head pillowed in his lap.

“I think you’re seeing things.”

“No, really. Look,” Steve told him, tracing the lines again. “There’s the head and the body and there’s the legs.”

“They all just look like stars to me,” Billy said, shrugging. “What took you so long today? I thought you were done with your human lessons.”

Steve rolled his eyes affectionately. “They’re fancy human lessons, thank you very much. And yes, I’m done with my lessons.” Steve paused, staring up at the sky again. “I had to help with preparations. Apparently we have guests coming. Some nobleman and his wife and daughter are coming to stay with us.”

“Don’t they have their own home,” Billy scoffed. “Why do they need yours?”

“I think dad just wants to show me off,” Steve said. “He’s always so worried about appearances. I guess now that I’m eighteen, he figures I know enough to not embarrass him and he wants to compare me to the other nobles.”

Billy frowned at that. Why should Steve be measured against other humans? As if any of them could compare to his Steve anyway. Steve was so special no other human could ever hope to measure up. More important than that was how much Steve seemed to hate so much of this high society stuff he was forced into.

“Why don’t you just leave?”

Steve laughed. “And go where?”

“Here.”

Steve looked up at Billy in surprise and Billy stared back, cradling Steve’s cheek in his palm.

“You could stay. Live here with me. You never have to go back to that house or those people again.” He stroked his thumb back and forth over Steve’s soft skin. “We could be together all the time. Just like this.”

Steve looked at Billy longingly. To live here and leave all of the trappings of his life behind, all the expectations, to be with Billy, sounded like a dream. But…

“My mother,” Steve said softly, his face falling. “She always tells me I’ll disappear in here. She begs me not to come because she’s afraid of losing me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

Billy frowned, turning his head away.

“I want to,” Steve told him. “You know I do. Being with you is what I look forward to every day. It’s what’s kept me going this long. But I have a responsibility to my family too.”

“They have a responsibility to you, Steve. They’re supposed to love you. The real you. Not turn you into some performing pet to entertain their friends.”

Steve’s chest ached. He knew Billy was only angry on his behalf but hearing it so bluntly from the other boy’s lips made it hit so much harder.

“They’re humans, Steve. They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed you just like they do everything else.”

“I’m human too, y’know,” Steve said softly, stopping Billy short. “Aren’t you worried I’ll ruin this place? Ruin you?”

Billy’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “That’s not… It's different,” Billy told him. “You’re different. You’re not just a human. You’re Steve.” Billy leaned down, folding himself almost in half to touch his forehead against Steve’s. “You’re my Steve.”

Steve reached up, tangling his fingers in the wild mane of Billy’s curls. “And you’re my Billy,” Steve said softly. “That’s never going to change.”

They stayed that way for a moment, the two of them just soaking each other in. They didn’t have much longer before Steve would have to make his way out of the forest again. He would have to return home to his family and his duties and Billy would be left to wait for his return.

As the sky turned from black to grey, Steve and Billy said their goodbyes and Steve took the familiar path through the forest, crept through the gardens and into the stillness of his home. He came through the kitchens, tucked his cloak back into the cupboard and rounded the stairs, ready for bed.

“Did you think you got away with it?”

Steve froze, ice flowing through his veins and chilling him to the bone. James Harrington was perched at the top of the stairs, his face stony, rage simmering beneath the surface and burning behind his eyes.

“Father, I-”

“Do you think this is a game, Steven? Do you enjoy getting the whole town talking about the Harrington boy making deals with the fae?”

“I haven’t-” Steve pleaded but his father cut him off harshly once again.

“I’ve given you everything, boy, and this is your idea of gratitude? Have you any idea how much your education cost?”

Steve glared at his father, his jaw set. “I never asked for that.”

“No. Of course not. You just expect everything handed to you. You have no regard for this family or how hard I worked to make the Harrington name mean something!”

“I don’t care about titles,” Steve snapped. “I don’t care about classes or all these made up rules! Why do humans have to put rules on everything?!”

The second it left his mouth, Steve knew he’d made a big mistake. The silence was deafening between them. His father’s face went pale, his expression horrified.

“I-I… I didn’t-”

“So it’s true,” James hissed. “You’ve seen the devil, boy.”

That made Steve angry. No one would speak about Billy that way in his presence.

“The only devils I’ve seen, father,” he spat, “are among men.”

It was quiet again, the rage in his father visibly building. He went purple with it before his arm flew out and he grabbed hold of Steve’s upper arm with a bruising grip.

“Clearly you can’t be trusted with your own safety,” he growled. “So I’ll have to save you from yourself.”

James dragged Steve along by the arm, pulling him so forcefully Steve struggled to keep up. He tried to fight his father’s grip but the man’s hand was like iron around him. He hauled Steve up and up and up, dragging him up the stairs to the tower. At the top of the staircase, he threw Steve forcefully through the open door. Steve hit the floor and slid, his back colliding with the opposite wall.

He cradled his arm, staring at his father in anger and fear.

“The lady Buckley will be arriving in three days time,” James roared. “And when that happens, you will be wed.”

“What? You can’t-!”

“I can and I will! And until that happens, you will remain here. Perhaps you’ll come to your senses by then.”

His father slammed the door shut and Steve’s stomach dropped when he heard the lock click.

“No.” Steve scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the door. “No!”

The handle wouldn’t turn no matter how much he tried. In blind fear and rage, he pounded against the heavy, wooden door over and over, screaming to be let out. They couldn’t do this to him. They couldn’t lock him in here like some prisoner. He screamed himself hoarse, desperate for his freedom, wishing he’d never left the forest and stayed with Billy like he wanted. He wished he’d stayed home.

Billy was sick with worry, pacing circles around the heart of the forest. Something was wrong. Steve hadn’t come back yesterday. Not in the light of day nor the dead of night. Steve had never just not shown up before and Billy was at a loss. He couldn’t exactly go looking. What was he meant to do? Walk the streets of the village asking if any of them had seen Steve? Billy could never bring himself to set foot on the desecrated land, the stolen forests of men. And if he was seen… It was sickening to even think about.

No. Billy could never go to Steve. But he wasn’t alone in his concern. The whole of the forest was restless. He needed answers. They all needed to know if he was safe. Billy stopped pacing and reached out a hand. A mocking bird flew down from the trees and settled on the offered perch, watching Billy intently.

“I need you to go to the village. Listen to everything. If anything happened to Steve, they’ll be talking about it, right?”

“Listen to everything,” the bird repeated, mimicking Billy’s voice perfectly.

“Good. Go.”

The bird flew off, leaving Billy behind. It flitted from tree to tree, lighting on branches and making its way through the forest to the village. It was a lot of ground to cover for a little bird but she would do her best. Everywhere she saw humans together, she would land and listen.

“That Jim is so handsome, isn’t he?”

“I heard he used to be a knight before he came back here. Such a shame about his daughter though.”

Nothing about Steve at the laundry pool then. She took flight again. The window of the bakery was her next perch.

“I don’t know how they expect us to finish such a big cake in such a short time.”

“They’re paying us well enough to rush it. Don’t complain.”

“Still, it’s not going to be nearly as pretty as it could have been.”

Nothing here either. She took off again, this time to the town square. There were many humans gathered here, all setting up for some sort of gathering. The ladies weaving flowers into an archway were where she found what she needed.

“I hear the Buckley girl got caught in bed with her handmaiden,” one woman half whispered. “Everyone’s talking about it. They say it’s why she hasn’t been able to find a suitor back home.”

The other woman clicked her tongue and shook her head. “How unfortunate. She’s such a pretty girl too.”

“Still,” the first woman said again. “I don’t think it’s quite on the same level as our lordling. I wonder if they know what they’re signing up for. Disappearing into the woods like that and coming back ever since he was a child? It just doesn’t make sense unless he…”

“Oh yes,” the other agreed. “I heard from one of the servants that he confirmed it himself. Confessed it right to his father’s face that he made a deal with them.”

“Oh dear. I think someone ought to warn the Buckley’s, don’t you? That’s nothing to muck about with. Imagine the effect such a thing might have on their children.”

“You’d better not,” the second woman hissed. “If it gets out we blabbed to the Buckley’s and ruined this arrangement, Lord Harrington will make our lives a living hell and then throw us to the wolves.” She fastened on the last flower, wiping her hands on her apron. “Young Lord Steven will be wed tomorrow and that’s that.”

There it was. That was what she needed.

“And that’s that,” she repeated to herself, startling the women below.

“Oh, you nasty thing,” the first woman scolded. “Shoo! Off with you.”

She swung a rag at the mocking bird, chasing her off the archway. That was okay. She had to get back anyway. She had to report back to Billy. She made her way back through the forest just before the sun began to set. Billy was waiting, curled up in the hollow of the tree with his treasures. He had the book of poetry open, the binding of it cracking in places and worn smooth in others. Max was curled up around the rest of the trinkets from their human to protect it. Only Billy was allowed to touch the hoard. The mockingbird landed on Billy’s knee, shaking out her feathers and looking up at him.

“Well,” Billy asked, setting the book in his lap. “Did you find anything out? Is he okay?”

The mockingbird lowered her head, hesitating.

“Young Lord Steven will be wed tomorrow and that’s that.”

Billy’s heart sank. No. That couldn’t be right. Steve wouldn’t marry someone else. He loved Billy. He said so.

“I have a responsibility to my family too.”

His stomach sank and he felt like he would be sick. His chest tightened and his vision blurred with tears.

“I’m human too, y’know. Aren’t you worried I’ll ruin this place? Ruin you?”

Billy gasped for breath around a sob. He should have known better. You couldn’t trust humans. They take everything and leave you bleeding. He looked down at the book in his lap and the overwhelming grief was replaced with anger. How could Steve do this? How could his Steve, the one who gave him everything, who chased the loneliness away, be so heartless? How could he abandon him to loneliness all over again?

Billy roared, slamming the book shut and throwing it as hard as he could. It spiraled away through the trees, crashing somewhere out of sight. He moved to the pile of things Steve had given him. The stuffed animal, the flower crowns they made together, the toys and all the pretty rocks he found but refused to take because they belonged to the forest, every last thing was thrown from the tree. One by one, they flew from view, landing wherever they may. Billy never wanted to see them again. He never wanted to see Steve again. He never even wanted to hear his name.

Never again would a human be allowed in his forest. Never again would anyone be allowed in his heart.

When it was all gone, Billy stood there panting. His chest and shoulders heaved with every breath. He threw his head back, letting out a roar that echoed through the trees and rattled the ground. Everything fell silent. So painfully, deafeningly silent. He was so angry. He wanted to fight, to hurt, to take. But there was nothing left to throw. Every sign Steve had been here was gone… Steve was gone. And just like that, the anger leached out of him. It dissipated like the morning fog and all that was left was the hurt. All he had left was an empty sadness. There was a hole in his heart. Billy dropped to his knees and wept.

He wept for what felt like an eternity. He wept until he had no tears left to give. Max curled around him, laying her big head over his shoulder to pull him close to her scaled chest. She had never seen Billy hurt like this. Nothing here did save for the trees, the last living witnesses to his first earth shattering heartbreak. Only they and Billy remembered the forest that was and the wound of losing their matriarch, Billy’s mother. Only they could see the scars it left behind.

When he was exhausted, Max carried him out of the hollow and up into the nest. He laid there in silence, draping himself over the edge and playing idly with one of the pink flowers that still decorated his home. The sun had sunk down, giving way to darkness. Billy just felt… numb. He glanced up, his eyes landing on the village and sending another spike of pain through his heart. But something gave him pause.

The tower. There was a light in the window. Billy had never seen it lit before. He was filled with anger again. Perhaps that was Steve’s bride. She must be up late, glowing in the excitement of tomorrow and knowing she would have Steve all to herself. Billy growled. He needed to see her. He needed to know just who would presume to steal Steve away from him.

Billy got to his feet, brow furrowed and jaw set. He dropped from the tree, free falling until he came close to the canopy of the smaller trees. His wings snapped open and he pulled up sharply into a glide. He let himself coast on the air currents as he made his way silently over the woods instead of through them. Let the humans see him and heaven help any of them that had something to say about it. He approached the tower, pulling up to land on the outer sill. The gust from his wings blew the windows inward, extinguishing the lamp that had led him here so the glow of the moon was the only light pouring into the room.

A gasp drew Billy’s attention to the corner of the room where a figure was huddled. There. This had to be her. But something didn’t feel quite right. It was no woman, he realized. He sniffed the air and picked up the familiar scent of Steve. Steve and tears. Billy stepped down off the sill, bare feet hitting the floor soundlessly. He could see Steve better now, bathed in pale blue light. He was curled in a ball, his eyes puffy and cheeks tearstained. He looked so small. So lost. In an instant, Billy was brought back to that first night in the forest and he could see clear as day the lonely little boy who’d come into his forest looking to disappear.

Steve half laughed and half sobbed as he realized Billy was really here. He sniffed and wiped furiously at his eyes, turning to Billy with a watery smile.

“Are you here to steal me?” he asked, his voice unsteady. Billy’s heart skipped a beat.

“Are you here to steal me?”

“Why would I do that?”

Billy dropped to one knee in front of Steve, cradling his face in his hands so gently. He leaned in and kissed Steve for all he was worth, searing his claim into Steve’s very soul. Steve returned it with all the need and fear and relief that had ruled his world for the last two days. Fresh tears spilled over and as they pulled apart, Billy brushed them away.

“Forever and ever.”

Steve choked out a sob and threw himself into Billy’s arms. Billy held him tight, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. He didn’t dare let go, lest Steve disappear all over again but he soothed him just the same.

“I’m here,” he told him. “I’ve got you now. You’re mine. My Steve.”

“And you’re my Billy,” Steve cried.

The sound of footsteps thudding up the stairs pulled them from the moment, reminding them they weren’t out of danger just yet. Billy growled, standing to his full height and facing the door with his wings spread wide. He dared any of them to try and lay a finger on Steve. He would kill every last one of them.

“Billy,” Steve pleaded. “No. Please. Just get me out of here.”

Everything in him wanted to stay. He wanted to make an example of them for anyone who would ever dream to take Steve from him again. But…

“Please,” Steve breathed, leaning against Billy’s back. “I want to go home. Take me home.”

It was a plea Billy couldn’t ignore. They were nearly here. If they were going to run, they would have to act fast. Billy grabbed Steve and ran for the window. The wooden door burst open behind them, men screaming at them to halt. But Billy paid them no heed. He gripped Steve to his chest and dove through the open window, ascending steeply.

“Steven!” a voice boomed. “Don’t you dare!”

Billy paused, turning to look at the arrogant old man that leaned out the window. The man that dared to spew threats. Billy clasped Steve to him and breathed in deep, letting out a roar that shook the very ground. All the glass in the house shattered, the sharp tones ringing through the air in resonance with the frightening sound that poured from deep in Billy’s chest. The look of fear in the man’s eyes gave Billy more satisfaction than it probably should but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned away, back toward the forest. Back toward home.

“I’ve got you,” he told Steve gently. “We’ve got you.” Below them, the forest began to light up, welcoming them both in.

“You belong to the forest now.”

Steve clung to him. “Part of the forest,” he said, his voice soft and reverent.

“That’s right. And it will always protect you. I will always protect you.”

#Harringrove Big Bang 2021 #Fanfic #Maleficent inspired AU #Fae Billy #Noble Steve #Childhood friends to lovers

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fly-like-a-phoenix · 3 years

Text

House of Lust (part 3)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: Violence.

The trip was very long, maybe longer than he expected. The nice green fields slowly began to show in front of his eyes, reminding him those beautiful times before the catastroph in Charenton.

The asylum was close to his actual location. He remembered the way very well. It wasn't so close to Paris as people thought. In fact, it was closer to the Nuns' home and some rich villas.

François started to think about those immense houses, those mansions. Villa d'Évreux should be one of those, he said to himself. But the owner of the carriage continued to beat the horses with the whip.

It wasn't so close. It was so far he didn't know where he really was. Extremely tall trees were both sides the carriage, and he couldn't see the fields, only more and more woods.

The coachman suddenly stopped. "We're here!" He shouted. François looked at the sky. It was getting dark. Night was arriving, and he was in the middle of nowhere.

He got out of the carriage, confused as much as that time when he learned that Madeline, that pure, innocent child, was the one helping the Marquis to publish his work, copying his books, using the gift of writing and reading that he taught to her to be in the evil side.

"Is it... In here?"

"No! Haha." The coachman laughed, his strong voice filling the empty way as a bird singing at the break of dawn. "You have to walk from here. I can't keep going. I'm not allowed. But you can, you have the invitation."

Was it really an invitation? For what? His parents promised him a roof and maybe a hot meal for a few days, nothing else. He started to think he knew nothing about those friends of his family. And he didn't knew what he was going to do in there.

Was he going to work? Or give the childs some art and literature classes? He was good at it, and he was still thinking the cell never was an impediment to him. Maybe he was a little crazy, but he still had that part of the Abbé in him, the art lover.

"Alright... How much is it?" He asked, taking out the money from his jacket.

"Eighteen francs." The coachman said, receiving the coins. "Have a nice day, monsieur!" He added, moving the reins to a side, making the horses to turn around and make way to Paris again.

A nice day? It must be at least seven or eight o'clock by now. The owls, crickets and other nocturnal animals' sounds were the background music to his ears while the sound of his own boats cracked the land under his feet, arms crossed to his chest, covering himself of the increasing cold.

And now rain started to fall. Almost running a little, he saw some lights. It weren't the moon and stars, that actually were the only lighting he had those few miles he walked. Those were oil lamps. It was a house in a hill. The now famous to his vocabulary Villa d'Évreux.

He walked the way to the entrance. But suddenly he was in front of the giant iron fence. Maybe he got confused because of the lack of lighting to point the real way, almost 165 feet from where he was.

He didn't find the way to the entrance again. What else could he try? Clapping? Screaming an obvious "Hey!" to the windows? Maybe both were good ideas, more now that the water was making his clothes so wet.

He did both things, one after another, multiple times. Nobody listened. He walked again, trying to find the road, but he couldn't do it. So, he decided to be the intrepid and rebel cell man again. He climbed the fences. And in less a minute, he was in the property.

As he walked to the building, he felt not only the mud under his feet, but also strange noises inside the mansion. Like people screaming because of pain. But maybe those were just the voices in his head trying to take control of him again.

The next that happened wasn't clear. He felt a noise behind him. But he didn't knew if that was a person or a big dog. He only remembered seeing all black after something hit his head.

When he woke up, he recognised the oil lights. But he couldn't feel the rain falling over his body, only the sound of it. He was inside a room, smaller than his Charenton cell. But it wasn't so different. He was chained to the wall, the iron of the handcuffs scratching his skin again.

He saw his clothes covered of mud and water, feeling the dirt in his face and hair too. When everything in the asylum happened, he accepted he belonged to the cell. But now, he was asking to himself what the fuck was happening.

"Hum... Hello? Is anybody there?" He asked to everyone that could be out the cell. "What's going on? Where am I?"

Suddenly, a man opened the door and came into the cell. He didn't say anything. Just approached to him, a started to hit him. François tried to defend himself from the man fists, but he was a real beast that left the place after he was in the floor, trying to breath normally.

Almost fainting because of the hits, François felt some blood coming from his nose and eyebrow, falling slowly to his neck and into his clothes. He raised himself in his forearms, but these didn't resist the pain of his body, and he fell again.

But out of nowhere an angel came in, a really beautiful woman whose face he didn't see very well, but whose arms he felt around his body, trying to make him get up without sucess before blackness arrived to his mind again.

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria99 @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @beautifulyoungprospect @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @joaqz-phoenix @ajokerfangirl

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#abbe de coulmier #abbe thirst squad #quills #joaquin phoenix #marquis de sade #abbe de coulmier x reader #joaquin phoenix x reader

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snapefiction · 3 years

Text

#2. Christmas Card - Snapemas Challenge

A/N: Day 2 of #Snapemas! I hope you’ll like it! :)

Idea from @deepperplexity ´s Writing Challenge !

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Pairing: Student!Severus Snape x Student!Reader (kind of?)

Warnings: Bullying, Mentions of a wrecked Home

Word count: 2273

Y/N - Your Name

#2. Christmas Card

Cautious to not make a sound the young raven head boy made his way through the corridors that seemed to be endless. Hoping he wouldn’t meet Potter and his pack of idiots on his way to his Potions Class with Professor Slughorn. His life wasn’t doing him well and to be honest he was more than just sick of it. Every day became an endless torture and drained every drop of energy out of him. The Fact that he was still getting out of his bed everyday was a wonder. He felt like - he knew- he was a dead man walking. Not because he did something sinful, no, but because Potter and Sirius in particular decided to turn his life into hell. As if it wasn’t enough that his Parents were treating him as badly as imaginably possible he got bullied almost every moment of his school day. Thinking about all of this made him clutch his books closer to his chest.

He really wished for an friend or at least someone to talk to. But there was no one. Yes, he got quiet well along with Professor Slughorn. But that was different. He taught him Things he really found interest in and was the first person ever who was showing any kind of positive interest in him. But he still was a Professor.

Merlin had some Mercy with the sad boy and he gladly didn’t meet his bullies on his way to class. The cold temperature at the dungeons remembered him that Christmas was coming soon. As he prepared his materials for class he couldn’t get his mind of having to go back home. His Father was even worse than the Marauders and would try everything to make Severus regret that he was born. If he only knew that he wasn’t quiet happy about being alive as well he probably would be mad at him for that as well. Potions, which was his last class for the day, went by quickly and so Severus could finally make his way towards the Libary to grab some new books before heading to the dinner. This Time he wasn’t as lucky as earlier. Potter already awaited him before he could slip into the great hall and just grab a Toast and maybe a Muffin.

,, Aww Snivellus, I heard you are going back home over the Holidays? Not even Dumbledore wants you around on Christmas.“ The Head of the Gang, the arrogant Swine Potter spat those words towards Severus before he almost choked on his Laughter.

,,I bet that not even your Mother wants you around.” Black now added and just hit a Nerve Severus wasn’t aware of he still owned. ,,Shut up you idiot!“ Quickly he laid his Hand on his wand just in case that Potter was up to something again or if his attack would remain just vocal this time.

You felt the tension from afar. Something was wrong and you knew you had to do something against it. Looking around your table you couldn’t spot any type of issue happening. Fast you pushed yourself up from the table just so you could get out of the great hall and finally spot what caused you your unease. It were Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and your Brother Remus Lupin. Again they picked up on Severus Snape the Young Slytherin. Oh, you hated it whenever someone got treated badly.

- Flashback -

You knew who Severus was because you often heard Remus and his ,,Friends” gossiping about him. Once, back at home when everyone of his friends went back home you dared to ask Remus some questions about Snape. ,,Remus?“ Quickly he looked up. You loved your Brother unconditionally but this topic laid like concrete on your chest. ,,Yes, yn?” His usual dreamy smile invited you to the seat next to him on his bed.

,,Can I ask you something? You got to be completely honest, okay?“ Nervous you watched him tense up a bit before nodding shyly in agreement.

,,You can ask me any-"

,,Why do you bully this Slytherin boy so much? What did he do?” The words rushed out of your mouth so fast that you feared he didn’t catch up everything you said. His following silence filled the room with empty assumptions. Watching his hands fidgeting around with a Thread from his trousers.

,,I don’t have many friends, you know.“ He then breathed shaky. ,,I tried to talk to James and Padfoot but… I don’t know. I don’t like it either but they’re the only friends I got. And Severus was just.. there.. kind of.” Remus voice was trembling and you knew he felt sorry for Severus and like his hands were tied.

,,That’s not okay. He’s always alone, does he even have friends? And you worry about losing Potter and-“

,,I’m not proud of it either, YN.” ,,It’s such a pity that you choose to be selfish when it comes to other people’s wellbeing. I really wished you’d be better than .. them.“ Leaving his room you couldn’t stop but feel pity for Severus and anger about your Brothers little Boyband. From this day on you told yourself you won’t ever let this behaviour slide again. If Remus wouldn’t stand up for whats right, ethical right, then you’d do it. Periodt.

Watching how Potter used his wand to let Severus fly around made you angry. He treated him like a gummy figure. But it was even worse that your beloved brother again did nothing.

,,Expelliarmus!” You shouted towards Potter who was more than just surprised about this sudden attack. ,,Remus, what the hell is wrong with your Sister? Is she out of her mind?“ Out of the corner of your eye you could see how Severus quickly grabbed his belongings and rushed into the great hall.

,,Shut up, Potter. Your behaviour is more than just disgusting. If you want to fight, fight against me, you wimp.” Your voice rose and instantly made James shit up. ,,Y/N, just leave, okay? Merlin, that’s non of your business!“ Remus tried to shove you back into the great hall but you just turned around to face him and whispered: ,,Don’t Make me use Silencio on you, idiot.” Tearing away your arm you just shook your head towards the rest of them and walked back to your seat. Knowing this won’t have any type of revenge following because that’s the one thing Remus would never allow them to and they would never hurt someone this close to them. As you looked over to the Slytherin Table you saw Severus sitting alone in front of an empty plate. He was rubbing his head, probably out of pain from his downfall, before he drank something from his cup and picked up his fork. Wondering what’s on his mind you just copied his movements. First taking a sip from your water and then starting to eat some broccoli and potatoe slices.

As the Christmas break neared and you received multiple cards from your close friends, housemates and even one from your Head of House(which just wanted to let you know that your courage was truly admireable and wished you a merry Christmas) you couldn’t deny but admit that those little cards made you feel loved. Slowly you slid the colorful cards into your suitcase before looking through your cupboard again. Your Christmas Shopping Spree from early November made you buy an additional Christmas Card for someone special this year.

It wasn’t a secret that Severus never got Mail or Presents and this, besides all the other sad truths about this boy, made your heart tear apart for just another few millimetres. Over the last few Months or maybe even year you couldn’t deny that there weren’t some sort of butterflies in your belly whenever you saw him. Yes, you felt Pity because Potter was more than just a pain in the ass but you also liked him for .. for everything he was. He was really smart, a rare gift that People Potter sadly didn’t own. He was gifted in Potions and knew ways of brewing you didn’t even considered plus he was, if you got past his hard shell, a really nice Boy. You were too shy to ask him to be friends or something but sometimes, when courage hit you, you sat down across of him in the library to just let him know that there was someone not hating his pure existence but appreciating it to the fullest. Even though you never talked to him you knew it was your time to make the first step of introducing yourself. He hasn’t rejected you until now so why would he after receiving something like a Christmas card? Closing your cupboard you quickly went over to your desk with the spare Christmas card in one and your feather in the other hand.

It was the last meal before the train would arrive and he’d have to go back home. It felt like a hangman’s meal. Every bite made him want to choke on it. He could feel how the chicken laid like stones painfully in his stomach. Some Students weren’t even attending at the Breakfast before the Train arrived. He hear them in the common room saying how nervous they were and how they couldn’t eat anything out of pure excitement. How that must feel like? Would he ever know? Laying down the fork he thought it would never come a time for him to feel safe and happy. He sighed and let his head hang low.

As something in front of him moved he quickly looked up. The last thing he needed was Peeves or some students bothering him now. He just wanted to sulk in sorrow until he had to catch the Train back to London. Confused he had to notice how an young owl landed right in front of him. He had never seen it before so his skeptics was appropriate. Scanning the Envelope he almost didn’t believed his eyes. It was addressed to him! Taking the Envelope still being curious and cautiously he traded an piece of his dinner with the Owl as an payment. As it flew away he carefully watched around. Was it a prank? Was someone watching him? No one even seemed to take any notice of him. So who would write him a letter? Shoving it in his robe he quickly made his way to his room so he could read it in the safety of some privacy. Almost running to his room he couldn’t stop thinking about who’d write him a letter. His feet couldn’t run any faster but he still tried to speed up so he could finally discover his new possession.

Reaching his room, falling onto his bed and closing the drapes with a small spell he tried to open it. The Envelope seemed to be stuck and as he grew more and more impatient he notice a small sentence on the back of the envelope. ,Do not open until it’s Christmas Day.“ A deep sigh left his throat. It was casted with an spell. Torture! Making him all tensed up and then making him wait another 48 hours! How would he even be able to wait until then? Unsatisfied he closed his eyes.

To his surprise the time until Christmas went by fast. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Envelope he got. The whole Train ride long, the whole time he had to spent with his parents while eating dinner together or just in general he could get his mind to think of something positive. It was exciting. He had no doubt anymore that anyone would prank him. A tingle spread through his whole body as he finally sat down on his bed, laying his book aside, and finally carefully tearing open the envelope. He was slightly shaking as his eyes carefully watched the Christmas card. It was draped in glitter and colourful pictures. The card was as cheesy as could be- but he loved it. He never had gotten a Christmas card himself before. Also it was rare to receive anything at all. So this was better than anything he had ever gotten. He was sure about that. Almost forgetting that there was a Text inside of the Card he eased his eyes from the glittery pictures and finally got to read the writing.

,,Dear Severus, from the bottom of my heart I wish you a Merry Christmas. I hope you’ll get the best presents this year and have the best holidays as possible. This Card is a reminder that there’s someone appreciating you. Don’t care about that Potter Dunderhead and his idiot friends they’re not worth it and just jealous of you. Sometimes I am too because I’ve never met someone intelligent as you are. Maybe, I really hope so, next year on Christmas I can call you a friend of mine. Again, Merry Christmas, Severus. And a happy new year.

x’

He admired the beautiful handwriting before realising what all those words meant. All that made his teeny tiny heart flatter. There was someone he didn’t knew that was liking him? Someone who cared? A smile formed on his face. Banning his sorrow and just leaving a shimmer of hope. He couldn’t hear his parents shout to each other anymore, he couldn’t feel the cold of his room creeping into his skin, the darkness from the outside didn’t bother him anymore and he forgot anything bad that had happened this school year. It all didn’t matter because there was someone thinking about him.

Merlin, This was the best Christmas ever.

Click here to read Part #3. Smiles of the Snapemas Challenge!

Taglist: @deepperplexity

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#snapemas #snapemas2020 #snape x reader #snape x y/n #severus snape x y/n #Severus Snape x reader #severus snape #snape #my writing #prosnape #snapefiction

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

Cat and Mouse

Tiny bit edited but I’m so tired.

Kuroo x fem reader college AU.

explanation of the home layout in my head- three story mansion type. You walk in the big double doors and see a double stair case. The main floor has a study room, giant living room, a kitchen in the back, and a big bathroom. The second floor up the stairs is a big open room with another stair case in the back right corner that leads up to a landing that has a door that leads to another bathroom and the Farther up is the third floor that is just bedrooms. This house is OSHA violation but don’t dwell on that. It has a big backyard with a pool and volleyball court. It’s the volleyball teams frat house.

College AU where Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima,and Hinata all go to the same college. Kuroo isn’t on the volleyball team but is always at the games and house hanging out when he’s not studying for his heavy medical exams.

The songs I talk about were just the ones that were playing while I wrote. Music feeds my creativity.

Word count: 3k +

Warnings- swearing, drinking, drugs, immaturity

▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼

The moment you stepped into the frat house you regretted coming. The first party of the semester that you were invited to because you just got added to one of the frat guys group in a biology class, which honestly threw you off because the boy that asked you to come was super sweet with the cutest tangerine hair.

“A great way to make friends” you roommate said and then she promptly ditched you when she saw an old friend high school, she didn’t know that they went to the same college now and had to catch up, she told you to go get a drink to loosen up so you tried to make your way to where you hoped the kitchen would be in this god awful huge frat house.

The walls were lined with volleyball posters and more volleyball paraphernalia. You knew your school had a huge team but you didn’t know any more than that, you guessed this was the volleyball boys frat house and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a picture and the same tangerine boy from your class was in it along with his team. “Huh” you say to yourself, your voice drowned in the music.

When you find the kitchen you take a shot, then one more, then a third for good measure before getting a can of soda from the fridge. You didn't care for nursing drinks, you liked to just get the alcohol in and then drink something you actually liked.

You took a yellow solo cup and filled it with cocoa puffs you found in a cupboard and then left the kitchen, you didn’t know anyone so you thought you would walk around and see what this place had to offer besides drunk college kids and volleyball.

You walk around the first floor, there was a pool in the back surrounded by people in bathing suits drunk and yelling, you laughed when a guy got hit in the face with a volleyball and as he looked up to get mad at whoever hit him, he caught your eye looking at him from the open sliding glass door. He was handsome, tall with messy black hair and a goofy smile. He had long arms and a white button up with rolled up sleeves tucked into distressed black jeans and black vans. He winks at you and you can’thelp but laugh and wave. You tip your cup back, pouring some of the cereal in your mouth before walking away from the door, not noticing how he started to make his way over to you.

When he gets to the door he looks around for you, trying to find where the angel went, he caught sight of your back on the other end of the room heading up the stairs and he takes off through the crowd with a smile on his lips.

You walk up the left side of the double staircase, making your way past drunk people and couples making out, to the top where you find a large room filled with more people and several games of beer pong happening. You catch the eye of tangerine dream and raise your cereal glass to him with a smile before tipping more cereal into your mouth and walking around the crowd to the next staircase, your skin buzzing as the alcohol gets to your system.

“Kuroo!” Hinata says as he makes it to the top of the stairs “Hey Kid! Great party” Kuroo says, his eyes scanning the room for you again, catching your hair as you walked up the next set of steps. His eyes finally focused on the small guy, he was saying something but Kuroo wasn’t hearing him, his mind was on you and the way you smiled at him. “I’m sorry Hinata. Do you know where this girl went? She was wearing a jean jacket and black shirt and had a soda and a cup?” Hinata thinks back to you and grins “H/C hair? And super gorgeous?” Kuroo nods “yes her” Hinata laughs “she went upstairs, you just missed her”

You walk around the top floor, it was all bedrooms and a few of them had socks on the door so you avoided those. You walked into one of the rooms that had an open door and flipped on the light. There was a king sized bed that was made and you were shocked that it actually smelled nice. You spot a lit candle and smile, tobacco smoke was the scent and you really liked it.

You walk around the room, looking at the posters of music and led lights around the edge of the ceiling. You looked at the standing mirror in the corner which was basically just a picture collage. You recognized a few of the volleyball team in the pictures and deduced that this room belonged to the player with the silver hair and golden eyes.

One whole wall was a chalkboard and you squealed when you saw a big bucket of chalk. You set down your soda on the dresser and picked up a piece of blue chalk and started doodling around his notes as you ate some more cereal. You drew hearts and several other shapes before drawing an owl in the middle of the wall and then wrote a note that said ‘great room, love the candle’

You leave the light on when you leave the room, making your way down the hall and checking out the other rooms, you set a record to play in the last one and listen to a song by an artist named Shelly as you admired dinosaurs on the bookshelves lining the top, swaying to the beat as you snooped through the messy contents on top of a dresser, hair care products, notebooks, and books lined the back and coins and pens were were in front. You grabbed a pen and a notebook and ripped out a page, folding and ripping off a perfect square before using the extra paper to write a note. You turned the small square of paper into an origami T-Rex, the only origami you knew, and set it next to his plastic figure of a triceratops. You write a note and place it next to the Dino, it said ‘rawr means...’ with a heart and a bad doodle of little foot from the dinosaur movies of your childhood

Kuroo made his way down the hall, avoiding all the socked ones but stopping in Bokuto’s room when he saw the light was on. He notices your soda still on the dresser, the cool condensation no doubt going to leave a mark on the wood. He looks through your doodles and chuckles at the owl. When he noticed your handwriting, that stood out among Bokuto’s horrid chicken scratch, he smiled again. ‘Who are you?” he writes by your note before making his way out and into different bedrooms.

You finish your snooping and head back to Bokuto’s room for your soda you forgot, passing a room that had some shouting and laughter but thinking nothing of it. You grab your soda but notice the response by your note, made by someone other than the person who lived in this room “who am i huh?” you pick up a red piece of chalk and write ‘just a girl’ before leaving the room and heading back down stairs.

Kuroo didn't mean to go into the bedroom with two people doing the deed in it, he didn't notice the sock that fell to the floor, but he couldn't help but laugh at the way the poor guy who was stripping, hestill had on his socks, one black and one a white tube sock that was up to his shin. “Sorry man” he says with a chuckle after he gets yelled at and quickly exits the room. He makes his way to the end of the hall and in the last room the light was still on smelling like a floral perfume, he was so close! He noticed that the record was still playing and smiled at how cute this was. Noticing your little Dino you left and another layer of tension finds it’s way to his heart. When he leaves the room he catches your back as you walk down stairs again. “Fuck” he says and takes off down the longer than normal hallway.

You walk around the room with the beer pong and smiled at HInata when she saw him again “hey do you want a hit?” a voice calls out and you finally notice the couch facing the windows in the room, completely hidden from the rest of the room. It was like it was it’s own little high universe in the middle of chaos. A few people were sitting around with brownies and bongs. You laugh “i might as well” you say and sit down in the middle of the group, sinking into the couch and disappearing from the room.

“What strain?” you ask as you hold your soda and cup between your thighs and grab the bong and a lighter from the nice girl beside you “uh i think it’s stoney pebbles” you nod “that’s a good one” you take a deep hit and lt out the smoke slowly in smoke rings. You giggle a few times before taking one more hit and passing it. “Hey i’ll trade you a brownie for that cereal” a guy says from the floor in front of you “deal dude” you say and pass him your cup before he hands you a homemade pot brownie that was wrapped in plastic.

God where was she! He thought as he looked around “hey did you find her? She just came down” Hinata asked and he shook his head “I’m always one step behind” he says as he looks around, admiring the smoke rings he saw come up from around the couch. Him and Hinata make their way around the big second floor room, looking at everyone closely to find you.

You talk a little to the group, exchanging numbers to match up whenever with the girl who you learned was named Sofia. You stand from the couch and stumble, giggling when floor boy, named Tony, caught you by your hips and steadied you. “Thanks man. See you guys around” you say with a wave as you take your soda and make your way back down the steps, taking a bite of the brownie as you went along.

“Dude!” Hinata says and points across the room to the stairs again “Fuck!” Kuroo exclaims, catching the attention of Tony. “dude that girl just gave me a cup of cocoa puffs. She's an angel!” Kuroo laughs your cup had cereal in it of all things, he guessed you were the one doing the smoke rings as well. He took off through the crowd again, trying to get to you.

You make your way to the bottom of the steps, brownie half eaten and you wrap it up, sticking it into your jacket pocket for later as you finish your soda and head back to the kitchen for another. You feel the weed mix with your alcohol as your body gets more relaxed. You grab another cup, filling it with some chocolate chips you found in a cupboard labeled “Hinata”, making you remember that it was the tangerine cutie boy from your class. You put pretzels on top of the chocolate chips and grab a bottle of water this time to try and get ahead of your dehydration you would feel in the morning.

You ignore your roommate full on sucking face with her friend from highschool on the couch in the study room and make your way to the living room where someone was playing halfway decent music while the furniture was pushed to the walls. You find the phone that was connected to the aux and picked it up, chuckling when the phone unlocked on the first try, 1111. You searched for a song on spotify, one that was stuck in your head since yesterday, Pain by King Princess, and set it to play next. The phone vibrates in your hand a text pops up in a banner, from ‘mom’ it said ‘Dinner tomorrow night, you’re still bringing the rolls right?’ smiling you flick it up and away as you go to your spotify profile and click follow before adding your signature playlist to whomever’s account this was. You place your cup and water on top of the table next to the phone and feel the music hit your soul as your song starts playing.

“There you are” he says to himself as he watches you mess with his phone on the table by the speakers, smiling when he saw you smile and holding his breath when he saw you flick away a notification. When you set his phone down he snapped back into action, making his way through the room over to you. You were now swaying around with the loud music, your arms swinging softly and your feet moving as you danced, you looked elegant and sweet dancing around with a smile on your lips.

You chuckled when someone grabbed your hand, spinning you around in a few circles before his hands landed on your rib area on your back, the heat sinking through your jacket and shirt, making you wish his palms were on bare skin. When your eyes focused you smiled “guy who got hit with volleyball” you say and he laughs “angel with the sweet smile” he quips back and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Kuroo” he says and you feel your heart skip “y/n” you say back and he grins “beautiful name for a beautiful woman” you laugh “does that line even work?” The song had changed to a slow song and your hands made their way to his shoulders as you swayed together in the dimly lit room.

“It has once or twice honestly” he admits and you shake your head “i’m not an easy girl to get Kuroo” you say and now it was his turn to laugh “oh I know that. I’ve been trying to find you all night” you cock your head “you have?” he nods “I liked the record choice in that last bedroom. And the drawings in Bokuto’s room” you laugh “you should have just yelled for me” he laughs “I could have. But you have led me down a pretty amazing adventure” you blush “i'm glad you think so, but why were you trying to find me?”he leans in close to your ear “to tell you how captivating you are and ask for your number”

you feel your cheeks get warmer at his proximity “that’s so cheesy i'm tempted to say no” he laughs “i’m just being honest beautiful” you roll your eyes “yeah sure. And next you’ll say that you dont talk to anyone else like this and i’m a special case” he mocks feeling hurt, a hand clutching his chest, “oooh it burns” he says sarcastically and you laugh “it only burns because it’s true”

he shakes his head “it’s not though” he smirks and you run your hands down his shoulders and chest, feeling his toned body beneath his shirt “oh yeah pretty boy? Then what is the truth?” he’s moved his hands to your hips and is now leading you as you dance from another faster paced song “the truth is this, I may have the looks, the ego, but I dont sleep around. I go after people I want to truly get to know. And you, sweetheart, are someone I would eally enjoy getting to know” you chuckle, your ears feeling warm as you look away with a smirk “okay Kuroo, i will trust you, but if we get to know each other and i find out you are really just a smooth talking asshole I have no issues calling your mom to talk” he laughs and holds you closer to him “my mama would love you” you roll your eyes, ignoring the way that made your heart pump quicker.

“So why do you want to get to know me so bad?” you ask as the music changed again, to a slower song again. He looks down into your eyes with a smile for a moment, until you can't help but smile back at him “that's why. Your smile. It’s beautiful and your eyes are kind.”

your breath hitches and you lean up, kissing his cheek “that was sweet i don't even care if it’s just a play” he raises his arms in the air, his fingertips almost hitting the ceiling fan “i’m not playing!” he says and you chuckle, pulling yourself close to him as you side step to a ‘put your records on’ over.

“Okay, okay. You’re not a player. I’ll trust you Kuroo. Does this house have a pet in it? I saw a leash by the door in the kitchen” he laughs and nods “Sasha, she's a golden retriever, she's probably in the garage” you bounce a little on your toes “lets go” you say and grab your water and cup of snacks, holding them in one hand like you used to with drinks when you were a server, the only skill you retained from those years at the Olive Garden, well i guess you also learned how to steal mints but that didn't matter in real life.

You hold out your free hand towards him “don’t lose me again” you say when he laces your fingers together and he chuckles “yes ma'am” he replies and you blush, shaking your head.

The garage had a jeep inside and several different sports boards on the wall, skateboards, snowboards, skis, you name it, it is in here. You hear jingling and a tail hitting a cage when you flip on the lights and you laugh as you open the cage. You shove your cups into Kuroo’s hands before the 75 pound dog jumps on you, pushing you to the ground to lick your face. you enjoyed the way Kuroo laughed when you hugged the doggy and kissed its face as you laid on the concrete. He sat down on the step and pet Sasha’s side as you held you.

You end up sitting side by side on the step, your back covered in dog hair and dirt but you don't care, as you keep ‘magically’ passing the dog’s toy between you both, causing her to get confused and tilt her head to the side as she watched it yet again disappear before reappearing in Kuroo’s hand behind his back. It was unreal to the dog, once you threw the toy she took a moment to really stare at it before running after it.

“Hey Kuroo” he hums “yeah?” you lace your fingers again and he pops a few of the chocolate chips in his mouth as you speak “you meant it when you said you want to get to know me? You’re not just smooth talking your way into my pants?” he squeezes your hand and turns so he can look at you in the eye “I meant it. I don’t want to smooth talk my way into your pants. I want to get to know you and take you out on an amazing date when you feel like a queen-” you lean in and press your lips to his for a second before pulling away with warm cheeks “what if i want to smooth talk my way into your pants huh?” he throws his head back with a small laugh “is that what you’re trying to do to me y/n?” he asks and you laugh with him “no. No. I want to get to know you too. You’re handsome and sweet” he blushes “thank you y/n” he whispers as he leans farther down to kiss your lips again, softly at first but more heated as you go, his tongue swirls slowly around with yours, the taste of salty chocolate filling your mouth from his tongue. his hands in your hair and on your cheek, your hands find their way into his hair as you moan into his mouth. He buys your bottom lip as he pulls away, your lip slapping against your teeth when he lets go. “oh pretty girl I want to make you mine” you chuckle and roll your eyes “I’m gonna make you work for it Kuroo” you whisper and he kisses your lips softly again, pulling back just a fraction to say “i’ll work as hard as i need. Believe it” you nod “good boy” you whisper and you see something flash in his eyes before you stand with a cheeky grin “wanna go draw penises on Bokuto’s chalkboard?” he stands up next to you and grins like a fool “a woman after my own heart” he brushes away a fake tear and you chuckle, taking his hand after he finishes cleaning up the dog toys and putting Sasha back in her crate.

You laugh as you compare your different penis drawings on the chalkboard wall, everything erased except for your note and owl. You laugh as you point to his extremely small one he drew “is that a self portrait?” you joked and he gasped “no way!” he exclaims and you just smile knowingly, man gives off major BDE. you draw a picture of a sunflower garden as he writes by your note ‘just the prettiest girl i've ever seen’

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