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hufflepuffwithaslytherinkink · 1 year

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Tacenda - Chapter 17 Snippet

Eleanor grabs a book and settles down as Liv has her nap. Joe left just before their parents and intends on spending the entire night at Ben’s so Eleanor has the entire house to herself.

Blissful peace.

She’s lost in the plot when she hears muttering outside. She lowers her book furrowing her brow, the noise stops and she starts to read again assuming it was just someone in their garden.

She gets through a page and a half when she hears scuffling.

Eleanor bookmarks her page before walking to her bedroom window and looking outside. She freezes seeing a tall dark-haired figure in a cloak climbing up the tree by her bedroom window.

She quickly pulls her window open to throw something at the person when they turn their face towards her.

“Theo?” She asks her mouth falling open in surprise.

Thank God she sleeps at the back of the house.

“Um, yeah.” He states, clinging to the tree tightly. “Maybe you should keep your voice down. It’s probably best your brother doesn’t know I’m here.”

Eleanor blinks at him. Had she gone into a food coma? That happens at Christmas right?

“Why are you here?”

“Maybe we could talk about that once I’m inside.” He says adjusting his grip slightly, he seems to be struggling. “Any chance you could give me a hand?”

Eleanor lets her eyes travel over him before realising how high up he is from the ground.

“Oh fuck, hurry up and get in.” She gasps reaching out of the window and holding her hand towards him.

He reaches out using her to stabilise himself before placing his foot on her windowsill. Thank God the tree is so close to her room.

“On 3.” He says.

“What?”

“1, 2, 3.” On 3 he kicks himself away from the tree and towards her, Eleanor lets out a startled scream as he flies through her window and knocks her backwards.

They land on the floor Eleanor letting out a gasp as her head hits the carpet, Theo landing full force on top of her.

He manages to put his arms out preventing most of his weight from landing on her but they’re still tangled together on the floor.

“What was that?” Eleanor cries out, rubbing the back of her head.

Why did he do that? Why was he even there? Why did he climb a tree?

“Shh.” He hushes her, his eyes darting to her door. “Someone might here.”

Eleanor lets out an annoyed grunt as she tries to move.

“No one’s here.” She tells him.

“What?” He looks down at her, his eyes full of surprise. They’re truly mesmerising. “So I didn’t have to climb up a tree?”

“No you didn’t have to climb up a tree. We have a front door you know.”

“I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

“Yes because climbing a tree is so inconspicuous, we have neighbours you know. One’s who aren’t accustomed to seeing people in cloaks or teenage boys climbing into my bedroom window.”

Theo smirks down at her. “I’d hope not. Glad I’ve got to be another of your firsts.”

Eleanor shoots him an annoyed look giving him a shove to get him off her.

Theo goes back willingly, seeming surprised at how he’s lying on top of her.

“Why are you here?” She asks sitting up and wincing at a pain that shoots across her backside.

Theo looks at the floor his face falling into a melancholy expression.

“I just needed a breather.” He says bringing his knees up to his chest.

Eleanor watches him for a second. “Theo, are you okay?”

Theo turns to look at her his lips pressed into a tight line.

He takes a shaky breath before answering. “I’m sure I will be.”

“Oh Theo.” Eleanor says shuffling towards him and placing her hand on his knee.

Theo stares at it with a strange expression, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

Eleanor goes to ask him what’s wrong when she hears Liv start to cry.

Damn it, she forgot she was babysitting.

“What is that?” Theo asks looking towards her door with a horrified expression.

Eleanor clambers to her feet rubbing her backside as the movement sends another wave of pain across her bum.

“My little sister… are you staring at my bum?” She asks shocked as she notices Theo watching the movement of her hand.

His eyes widen shooting to her face.

“No.” He says quickly before his face pulls into a cocky smirk. “I could help though if you like.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes as Liv lets out another cry. She quickly turns making her way towards Liv’s room.

She picks Liv up holding her close, comforting her as she kisses away her little tears.

“I’m sorry sweetie, was it scary waking up alone?” She coos walking back into her own room.

Theo is stood by her bookshelf examining the contents, he quickly looks up as she enters carrying Liv his eyes widening.

“What’s the matter?” Eleanor asks. “Never seen a baby before?”

Theo shakes his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

Eleanor watches Theo’s reaction as Liv buries her face in Eleanor’s jumper.

“Come here then.” She says walking over to her bed.

She settles herself down cuddling Liv, who’s no longer crying.

Theo watches them anxiously.

“She won’t bite.” Eleanor laughs. “She’s only got about 4 teeth anyway.”

Theo eyes Liv dubiously before walking over and sitting down beside Eleanor.

Eleanor holds Liv so Theo can see her.

“Oliva this is Theo, Theo this is my little sister Liv.” Eleanor says making Liv giggle before babbling utter nonsense.

Theo raises an eyebrow. “Um pleasure to meet you. Can she understand me?”

Eleanor shrugs. “I think so but she doesn’t really understand what things mean at the same time. Like she knows us and she cries for mum and dad. She knows her bottle and her favourite toys but she wouldn’t know about things like clothes, she doesn’t care you’re wearing a cloak, same as she wouldn’t care if you were naked.”

Theo gives Eleanor a startled look before smirking.

“Is that you trying to get me naked Eleanor?” He teases.

“Oh piss off.” She states making him snigger.

“I’m just teasing. Although you’d only have to ask.”

What does that mean?

Liv starts to grumble.

“I don’t think she likes your jokes.” Eleanor tells Theo as Liv grumbles again, pressing her fist into her mouth.

“Sorry.” Theo quickly apologises.

Eleanor chuckles resting Liv against her shoulder.

“She’s just hungry, come on I need to make her a bottle.” She says scooting off the bed and walking towards the landing.

Theo waits a moment before following after her, he stares at them both curiously.

Eleanor bounces a grumpy Liv as she puts the kettle on and start to pull out what she needs. Theo watching her with fascination.

Once the kettle has boiled she turns to Theo.

“Could you hold her for a minute? Just whilst I use the hot water.” She asks.

Theo looks petrified but nods silently all the same. Eleanor smiles at how cute it is he’s scared of her tiny little sister.

“Here.” She hand Liv over, adjusting Theo’s grasp. He gives her a scared glance before looking down at Liv who’s staring at him wide eyed.

They stare at each other silently before Liv bursts into loud giggles.

Theo lets out a startled laugh. “Hi.” He says in a shocked tone.

“She likes you.” Eleanor states mixing the baby formula.

Theo grins as he bounces Eleanor lightly.

“I like her.” He says.

Eleanor grins at him before focusing on the formula again.

As soon as the bottle’s made she walks back to her room, Theo following slowly with Liv. Obviously scared of dropping her.

She smiles as he sits beside her on the bed still cuddling Liv to his chest.

“Do you want to feed her?” Eleanor asks.

Theo looks at her with a horrified expression. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“It’s easy.” Eleanor states putting the bottle on her side table. “Turn her like this, that’s it. then put this muslin across her, hold the bottle like this. Perfect. Now just hold it and she’ll do the rest.”

Theo watches with wide eyes as Liv drinks the bottle, her little fingers wrapping around Theo’s that hold the bottle.

“This is nice.” He mumbles. Eleanor nods watching them.

“I enjoy it.”

Theo gives her a quick smile before turning back to Liv.

“She looks like you.” He states.

Eleanor startles at that she looks down at Liv, she supposes they do look alike. They have the same shaped face and strawberry blonde hair.

“Except for the eyes.” Theo continues. “Her eyes are brown, yours are sky blue.”

Eleanor freezes hearing that. She never thought Theo would know what colour her eyes are.

“I suppose.” Eleanor replies.

“No suppose about it.” Theo continues. Liv turns her head away from the bottle and Theo instantly panics.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

Eleanor shakes her head taking the bottle from him. “No, she’s just full. She only has one bottle a day now, two if she gets hungry at night we’re trying to get her off them completely and onto just solid food but it’s good for nutrients or something.”

“Right.” Theo nods though Eleanor has a feeling he doesn’t have a clue what she’s on about.

“You know she might need winding.” Eleanor says. “She’s pretty old but sometimes she struggles with getting her own wind up still.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“It’s just getting the air she swallowed with the milk up, she can do it herself usually but not always. If you put her on your shoulder like this, yep and then pat her back gently. Harder than that. Perfect. Don’t be surprised if she burps, that’s the goal.” Eleanor tells him.

Theo continues to wind Liv giving her a startled look. Eleanor giggles, not only at Theo’s reaction but also the surrealness of it all.

Theo Nott is in her bedroom winding her baby sister. What is happening in the world.

To make things even better Liv not only burps but is sick down Theo’s back.

Eleanor gasps, her eyes widening at the pure white baby vomit traveling down Theo’s black cloak and possible soaking into his suit underneath.

“What was that?” He asks.

Eleanor reaches forward taking Liv from him.

“I’m sorry but she was a little bit sick on you.” She cringes.

Theo strains his head back trying to see, pulling a disgusted face before gagging.

Eleanor can’t contain her laughter.

“Eleanor this isn’t funny.” Theo complains.

Eleanor snorts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just be thankful it didn’t come out of the other end.” She states.

“What?” Theo asks in horror.

Eleanor giggles again. “It happens. Hang on I’ll get you some of Joe’s clothes and I’ll put yours in a wash.” She states placing Liv on her bed. “Watch Liv for me.”

She quickly runs out of the room hearing Theo talking to Liv as she goes.

“Don’t laugh, this is your fault.”

She smiles at the stupidity and cuteness of it.

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lixxpix · 17 days

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forbidden fruit - nishimura riki

slytherin!niki x ravenclaw!reader

warnings: hogwarts au, pureblood/muggleborn society, use of slur "mudblood", a lot of angst, betrayal, lots of swearing, fluff, use of third person pov, niki's friends basically being assholes, threats and mentions of death, can get a bit dark at times i guess, idk man idk how to write tws

genre: coming of age, enemies(ok not really but society issues and stuff) to friends to enemies to lovers, hogwarts au

status: coming soon... (taglist open!)

author's note: aaa i'm so excited for this omd >< taglist is open for this fic!

sneak peek...

"you really think i would make friends with a mudblood?" he sneered, upper lip curling up in disgust as you shrank backwards, his friends smirking at your heartbroken expression.

"i-"

"filthy mudblood."

two words snarled at you. two words that broke your fragile glass heart as you crumpled, leaving you heartbroken and hurt. two words that completely destroyed whatever friendship the two of you had managed to build up, leaving only ruin in it's wake.

@capri-cuntz @vixialuvs @enhagvrl @judeduartewannabe @livnmsy @heeseungspookie @ming-h0e @istphanie @soobs-things @kangseulgithegreat @hohohobo @asteria-wood @belowbun @gudkc @hearts4itoshi @saintriots @mora134340 @riksaes @ak-aaa-li @strawberrymilkyum @heart4hees @lovleybahiyyih @yjsunzi @yoonzns @firstclassjaylee @baekxo07 @rk1stars @luminouskalopsia @wonniesverse @starseungs @sleepdeprivedline @soobiary @kpop-fanatic-lover16

(i'm so so sorry if the tags aren't woking, i'm fixing it TT taglist is still open tho!) (some people might get re-tagged multiple times in this but so sorry for the false alarm, i'm just trying to get the tags to work)

#enhypen #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #riki x reader #riki nishimura x reader #hogwarts au #angst #betrayal #pureblood society #pureblood culture #fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen au #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen angst

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taexoxosgf · 2 months

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If ur requests are open can i request a renjun smut??

i'm so mad i couldn't find some fics on my old recs smh

full fic + smut

Soulmatch™ — App-grade your love life! [ love app au ]

Wrong for you [ friends to lovers ]

high waisted shorts [ strangers to lovers au ]

Huang renjun and the MUGGLEBORN [ pureblood ravenclaw!renjun + muggleborn ravenclaw!y/n ]

One Foot in the Golden Life [ rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader ]

love station [ strangers to roommates to friends to lovers ]

smut

quiet down [ bodyswap-ish AU, sex shop worker reader ]

not the same [ crush!renjun x fem!reader ]

dirty laundry [ roommate renjun x fem!reader ]

paint me naked [ Painter! Renjun x Muse! Reader ]

DON'T FUCK YOUR ROOMMATE [ roommate renjun x fem!reader ]

handle me [ customer!renjun x stripper!reader ]

KINKTOBER DAY 26 — COCKWARMING [ renjun x fem!reader ]

To taste the forbidden fruit [ friends to lovers ]

bad habits [ established relationship ]

in a king-size, say i’m your queen [ prince!renjun ]

untitled [ renjun x fem!reader ]

backstage [ idol!renjun x idol!reader ]

all i ever wanted [ friends to lovers ]

meet me on the rooftop [ idol!renjun x staff member!reader ]

kinktober day 01 [ established relationship, Capnolagnia ]

stolen [ store detective!renjun x shoplifter!reader ]

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ur-local-anti-hero · 5 days

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Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other.

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them.

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters.

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious.

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom.

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life.

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding.

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed.

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair.

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter.

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him.

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room.

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her.

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror.

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak.

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago.

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little.

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest.

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell.

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time.

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’.

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears.

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it.

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time”

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile.

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you.

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue.

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle.

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic.

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore.

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking.

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace”

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air.

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened.

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating.

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son.

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised.

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways.

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony.

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity.

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by.

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet.

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders.

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on.

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise.

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell.

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends.

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle.

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere.

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek.

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong.

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket.

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place.

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?”

“I do”

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?”

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride”

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture.

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face.

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James.

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you.

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo

#marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter #marauders fic #james potter x reader #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter fic #james potter x yn #james potter fanfic

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talesofadragon · 5 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: Theodore Nott came to learn that an inciting incident can alter the course of history. Lucius Malfoy’s fall led to Draco’s dark mark and the death of Dumbledore. The rise of the Dark Lord urged Harry Potter into hiding and Death Eaters into prominence. And then there was Amycus Carrow, with his tainted hands on Y/N, who forced Theodore Nott to do the unforgivable.

Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic description of violence, panic attacks

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 5.8K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐬. The lines between the two flow steadily, each following its own cadence. And yet, despite their distinct course and the light years between them, they somehow find a way to draw parameters of joint space. Somehow, someway, they eventually overlap—meeting each other at the apex of catalysts and the twists between junctures to shape history and write the present.

Today starts like most stories do: quaint and subtle, setting the tone for an inciting incident that will tip this fable on its axis.

It’s a typical day, or as typical as it could get during Y/N’s last year at Hogwarts. She’s sitting at the far end of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, donning the same apprehensive expression as all her classmates. The turmoil that governs the halls is a jarring contrast to the flourishing and effervescent school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts once was.

In this mangled reality, there are specks of the idyllic tales she’s heard about, and witnessed, growing up. Slytherins and Gryffindors sustain their infamous rivalry while in search of their individual purpose, purebloods hold themselves on par with Merlin himself, and more often than not, students find refuge in a forgotten nuke in Hogwarts when the burden of magic becomes too heavy to bear.

In the first drafts of the story, Hogwarts held its students under one embrace. But now, as we’re nearing a hazy end, an isolating veil drapes over the school, fracturing it into fewer than four houses and dividing it more than ever before.

“Now, as Barty Crouch Junior has so tirelessly shared, you have already been acquainted with Merlin’s three most formidable spells,” Alecto Carrow, one of Voldemort’s trusted Death Eaters explains. Her heels dig into the marble floors of the classroom, their screeches ricocheting across the walls in warning.

“The Unforgivables,” her brother Amycus eagerly finishes. His yellow teeth wither under the dim light of the darkened sun as his arms open wide. It’s unsettling how he and his sister welcome such misfortune so openly.

As it happens every single time the Carrow twins revel in the darkest boulevards of magic, Y/N shifts in her seat until she’s nearly imperceptible. Each time, her eyes rove the expanse of the classroom, seeking out the comfort of peculiar hazel eyes. Within just ten seconds, her wandering gaze comes to rest on the idle brown walls, a weight of defeat settling upon her.

Upon her reluctant return to Hogwarts this year, Y/N was met with a torrent of unimaginable changes, starting with students being separated not only based on their house but also their blood status.

Purebloods became a procession of peacocks—majestic, refined, otherworldly. Only allowed to flick around with students of the same upper class.

Half-bloods, on the other hand, belong to inconsistent ideologies. They teeter on the precipice of honor, waiting for Death Eaters like Umbridge and whoever else is in the Ministry to decide their fate.

Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.

Y/N doodles a few meaningless shapes, swirling her quill around the parchment as she thinks of Theodore. Lately, it's become increasingly difficult to talk to him, let alone spot him, with all the changes in place.

Her classmates know she’s not paying attention and that she's only pretending she has her nose buried deep in her notes. Her quill, which scratches against the parchment, is nothing but a ruse to get the Carrows off her scent.

This class truly has nothing to offer except for a modicum of nostalgia and a barrage of abuse, so if the Carrows are so gullible to believe that Y/N is actively listening, then so be it.

By now, she takes it a step further, looking up to meet the eyes of the young children brought forth by the Carrows. She’s mastered the art of stoicism to a T, gazing at their expressions without showing a measly emotion. But every single time, she finds herself transported eons back to a time when things were drastically better.

Her memories vary, depending on whatever catalyst she encounters. She recalls seeing a girl with ginger waves once, and her mind acted on autopilot, bringing her back to the times she and her friends would huddle in their common room to animatedly talk about the latest Weasley prank.

At the previous hints of pink, she remembered Umbridge when she was finally escorted outside of Hogwarts grounds.

And today, her memories are not too different. Bittersweet at best and wistful at most.

She finds a boy biting down on his lower lip. He’s a Gryffindor, judging by the color of his tie, more so by his audaciousness when he decides to lift his head and contain his fear. His eyes are hazel, edging closer to honey brown underneath the dim light of the classroom. And her mind is cruel enough to conjure the image of Theodore hovering above her naked body with lustful hazel eyes and abused fiery lips.

Theodore doesn’t particularly fancy his eye color—he doesn’t quite fancy much about himself. He’s not oblivious to his popularity, but unlike Draco Malfoy, who shines like the stars, Theodore Nott glows like the moon in a dance of subtlety and intensity; a paradoxical luminosity that always leaves Y/N in awe.

He never particularly bothered her during their first couple of years at Hogwarts, which explains why they never interacted until their fifth year. Back when Umbridge was foul toward the student population, especially vile toward anyone of lesser blood.

Dennis Creevey, who had been a first-year at that time, fell victim to her malice. His penance for being born to muggle parents was bloodily etched on his hand. Y/N tried to help him, even though her own hand was hurting just as badly. The healing spells didn’t counter the dark magic infused in the quills, and while she could handle the pain, the poor eleven-year-old couldn’t.

"May I?" a voice softly breathed from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to see the unexpected sight of Theodore Nott, dressed in an emerald green tie and an aura of pristine silver. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and her hands trembled, a reaction heightened by the delicate hints of cinnamon swirling in the air.

When Theodore pulled out his wand, Dennis cowered. And to her surprise, Theodore’s face fell. Yet he quickly covered his crestfallen expression with a mask of pure stoicism.

Y/N’s gaze meandered away from the Slytherin and settled on the young Gryffindor. “It’s okay, Dennis,” she recalled herself saying at the time, even though she hadn’t mentally given her words the green light to tumble out of her mouth. Both Dennis and Theodore seemed equally surprised, turning their heads her way. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Maybe it was the softness of Theodore’s hazel eyes, or maybe it was how he abstained from touching the boy's bruised hand and elected to kneel to his level. To this day, Y/N doesn’t know what exactly made her fall for Theodore at that exact moment in time.

Yet, all she knows in certainty is that she’s in love with Theodore Aurelius Nott. Pureblood, Slytherin Elite, Son of Darkness. But what can she do if one glance at his hazel orbs leaves her drowning in the depths of his moonshine?

“Miss Y/L/N!”

Y/N’s head jerks when a protruding voice disturbs her reverie. She chances a glance at the front of the classroom, finding Alecto Carrow’s lidded eyes on her. Bright and sage, a stark contrast to the malevolence nestled within them.

“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.

“Given your diligence in recording the theoretical aspect of The Unforgivables, I believe it’s time for you to engage in the practicalities of said lesson,” Alecto announces with a tone that leaves no room for negotiation or refutation.

With a sharp nod, she ushers Y/N out of her seat, beckoning her over until she's two steps away from her. Y/N stands idly, unaware of whether she's going to role-play as the tormentor or the tormented. But her internal questions are answered the moment Amycus Carrow shoves the Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes into her line of sight.

"Go on." Alecto wears a sinister expression as she levels Y/N with a taunting smile. "Demonstrate your aptitude to the class.”

Y/N doesn't step back nor does she shy away. She clings to the apathetic front she's adopted from her boyfriend, her gaze falling on the young boy, and her thoughts drowning out Alecto's sharp voice. By the time Amycus asks her to draw out her wand, she's mustered up enough confidence to answer with a terse "no."

“What do you mean no, you insolent brat!” Alecto bellows, being the first to succumb to her temper. For a snake, she is known to be as hot-headed as a lion.

“I refuse to perform any curse on anyone,” Y/N clarifies, purposefully refraining from calling her “professor.” And if she had half a brain cell, perhaps she would’ve figured it out.

“Is that so?” Alecto challenges.

“Yes.”

“Very well, despicable half-breed. You know the rules. You’re either the rodent or the snake. Guess you’ll always be the former.”

She's calm and aloof on the outside, but Y/N is dreading what’s coming next. She’s never fallen victim to the Cruciatus, though she has heard all about it from Theodore and his friends—even once from Harry.

She watches with steady eyelashes as Alecto draws her wand and points it at her. Although the curse is released, and screams reverberate across the walls, both Alecto and Y/N remain silent.

To Y/N's horror, the young Gryffindor boy thrashes on the ground with clenched fists and agonizing wails. Above him, Amycus stands like a conductor, his wand beckoning the crooked notes of the boy's voice to rise to a crescendo.

Finally, the screams die down, extinguishing and feeding the anguish of every student at once. Amycus turns to address the class, dismissing them all except for one. “You go ahead, Alecto,” he directs toward his sister. “If the little mouse wishes to squeak, then she’ll have to suffer graver consequences than what you have to offer.”

Whatever Amycus has in mind seems to appease Alecto. Her expression is mirthful as she grabs the robes of the young Gryffindor boy and sweeps him out of the class, using his body as a cleaning broom.

The students all file out, their glances lingering on Y/N. As the last of the students leaves, Amycus turns to the young girl.

“Your wand, Miss Y/L/N,” he demands. Y/N debates not giving it to him, but she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll come and collect it himself. So, she reluctantly hands it over. “Ah, pretty little thing. What’s the core?”

“Dragon heartstring.”

“Fitting for a spitfire like you.”

“I thought I was a meek little mouse,” Y/N counters, making Amycus grin.

“You are a lot of things, little girl,” he replies as he twirls her wand in his hand. “The wood?”

“Larch.”

“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Amycus voices out. If Y/N’s a mouse, then he seems to enjoy being a cat. His long and calloused fingers trace her wand while he circles her, trying to break her resolve. “What does the wood say about you?”

The question strokes her ear, carried by Amycus’ ghastly voice. Y/N stills, not seeing where he’s going. She jolts as Amycus taps the wand against her thigh, particularly the exposed skin between her skirt and stockings.

“It’s best paired with wizards and witches who possess hidden talents,” she replies tersely.

The hum coming from her side indicates that Amycus is listening—paying attention, though, not so much, considering he’s rather preoccupied with poking her skin with her wand while rotating around her.

He’s playing with his food, Y/N tells herself, knowing this is just another trick of his. Somewhere in his sadist brain, his senses are sparking with delight at the prospect of Y/N’s discomfort, relishing the power he has over her.

A part of her wants to jam her wand in his eyes, pluck his eyeballs out, and proceed to stuff each in his nostrils. But another part of her stands idle, not even blinking as he keeps up his ministrations.

Amycus smiles, taking up more of her personal space. Y/N’s senses are lit on fire as he traces her wand across her body. “Is your mouth a part of those talents, filthy witch? You don’t talk much, but rotten girls like you must know how to use their mouths.”

“To scream, I presume,” Y/N breathes. Her quip hits Amycus right in the face, and the maniac grins. His face is painted with a nefarious glee, that of a predator eager to feast on its prey.

SA and Attempted Rape Content Begins Here. Skip Through This Scene by Scrolling to "Scene End."

The unsettling sensation against her ribs dissipates when Amycus pulls the wand away, but the apprehension still lingers. As she mentally prepares herself for the inevitable pain that comes along with the Cruciatus, Amycus’ hand cups her chin, and his molten lips crash against hers. The sensation is so crippling and unfavorable it sends her tumbling back into the table.

The pressure on YN’s cheeks intensifies until it becomes sharp and metallic. Fingers dig into her flesh, paving a path for Amycus’ tongue to follow. Though her hands slap against his chest, legs flailing around, he continues his exploration in the depths of her throat.

It feels like he’s finally thrown her off a cliff, yet with all the energy Y/N can muster, she pushes his body away and slaps him across the face.

He looks at her with unadulterated rage. Y/N forgoes reading his face in favor of bolting toward the door. But before she reaches the handle, she’s yanked back by her robes. The fabric tears, as does her heart. Amycus then throws her on top of the teacher’s desk and catches both her wrists in his hand.

“Pitty your blood is impure, little witch. If you had to match your filthy mouth with something, I’d rather it be your pussy than your blood.”

“Get off me,” Y/N enunciates with a quiver in her voice. It seems to feed Amycus’ wicked desires because she suddenly finds him nipping at her neck in pure delight.

“You’ve disobeyed my direct order. When witches are bad, they’re punished.”

“You’re sick!”

“And you’re delicious.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, burying his face further in the junction between her neck and shoulder. His kisses are filthy, heavy, frigid. They make her body feel like ice—they make her feel as if she's been snatched and thrown into the depths of the Dark Lake.

Amycus' hands grab her waist and flip her over until her gaze meets the darkness of the desk’s wood. If the sensation of the wand against her thigh left acid in her mouth, then Amycus’ fingers left her with bile overwhelming her senses.

“What a pretty little ass you’re hiding under here. It was made to be ruined.”

Y/N doesn’t have time to panic. In fluid movements, Amycus lifts her skirt, rips off the shorts she typically wears beneath, and spanks her ass.

She yelps, struggling against the hand against her back that’s keeping her on the desk. She’s hit one more time and then two and three. The slaps are forceful and fiery, leaving her skin scalded and singed.

A roar erupts from the depths of her soul when she feels a finger easing her thong. The force of her scream catches Amycus off guard, enough for Y/N to elbow him and dive to the ground for her wand.

“Cruc—”

“Oh, so now you want to cast it!”

With ease, Amycus manages to slap Y/N’s wand away. He ruthlessly places his palm against her stomach, pushing her back to the ground.

Her head aches from the force of the blow, a scream barrelling through the space between her lips when Amycus towers over her, digging his obsidian nails into her skin.

“It’s a shame that the most delightful toys happen to be the filthiest. Maybe this will teach you and your kind that you will forever remain beneath us.”

Y/N cries as Amycus incapacitates her lips. She squirms underneath his body, vaguely aware of the fabric he’s tearing in half, though oblivious to what clothing item it belongs to.

She tries to non-verbally cast a spell, but her mind is too distracted to focus on the incantation. All she knows is that she needs to get Amycus off her. And yet, no amount of strength in her hands or her spells manages to draw him to a stop.

His spit traces her lower lip, tantalizingly closing the distance between her mouth and collarbone. Y/N shudders, bellowing at the thought of his saliva trailing her skin.

She wails, screams, and shouts until she realizes that Amycus probably cast Silencio without her knowing. Though futile, she tries to push his body weight off her, even resorts to kicking his ribs.

It doesn’t work... until by some miracle from Merlin himself Amycus’ body flies toward the back wall, releasing her.

Scene End

Y/N gasps, pushing her palms against the tiled floor and lifting herself to a sitting position. Her chest heaves as she looks at the discarded fabric of her skirt, the scattered buttons of her shirt, and the remains of her robe that are haphazardly strewn across the room.

Faint sounds register at the back of her mind. A heavy breath, mirroring her own, emanates from behind, accompanied by an erratic heartbeat that matches hers. Amidst it all, she picks up on Amycus’s forlorn groans, muffled by the surrounding darkness. Resilient ropes now bind his hands and feet, rendering him completely motionless.

“Get Y/N out of here,” a voice orders. It’s far away—at least, Y/N thinks so. But despite the fog around its edges, she can somehow sense the enmity lacing it.

Before she can process the shadows creeping closer to her side, a robe is draped over her shoulders as arms wrap securely around her.

She thrashes against the man holding her, trying to repel his hands from her body. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says in a low octave. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise you. He can't touch you anymore.”

The voice carries a bit of an edge, yet it’s the most soothing sound she’s heard all day. Her lips quiver as she internally fights with her thoughts, head spinning and shaking in defeat.

The halls around her move fast, time seemingly irrelevant at this point. She’s crying and mumbling incoherently, burying her face in the fabric of this stranger’s clothes, which smell like a familiar blend of mint and citrus.

The robe is wrapped tighter around her shoulders, and she receives a faint squeeze as she’s brought up a staircase. Words are whispered, a door is opened, and voices mingle with one another until a delicate tone enters her headspace.

“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?”

“It’s Y/N,” the male voice, the one belonging to Draco, replies. Draco kicks open a door and places Y/N on the bed. She wails even more at the action, curling herself into a ball—at this point, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified.

“What the hell happened to her?”

“Lower your voice, Pansy! Can’t you see she’s scared enough?”

Pansy stutters for a few seconds before asking again, “Who did this to her?”

Draco hesitates, looking between the two young women. “Amycus,” he replies. And though it’s barely a mumble, it’s enough to send Y/N spiraling.

Pansy’s jade eyes tread carefully as they peer over Y/N’s frail body. She sees the red marks on her hands and the blood that seeps from the cuts on her face. “Cruciatus?” she asks, but something in her tone makes it obvious that it’s just wishful thinking.

“No,” Draco answers. Y/N’s sniffles and shudders fill the air as Pansy and Draco exchange silent glances. Y/N clutches her throat, rubbing it to try and get herself more oxygen.

“What do we do?”

Draco's footsteps echo as he retreats toward the door. “You're going to her clean up. If Theo hasn’t killed Amycus yet, I’m going to join him in his pursuit.”

There was something in that last line that clamped agony around Y/N’s heart, squeezing like a vice. She wept, only vaguely conscious of Pansy’s soothing touch in her hair and the remnants of Draco's anger looming around the room.

The mirror in the bathroom captures two girls in its glassy frame. One of them is put together while the other looks worse for wear. Y/N stares at her wild reflection, moroseness painting her irises. A tiny sob escapes her barely parted lips, and Pansy decides to tear Y/N’s attention away from the broken girl staring at them through the mirror.

She softly holds Y/N's hand and helps her to the shower, turning her head when Y/N undresses and then carefully cleans her blotched skin. Once they’re done, she lends Y/N some pajamas and underwear, giving her the privacy and space to change into them before helping her dry her hair.

Wordlessly, Pansy leads Y/N away from the mirror. Her grip is firm as she swings open the bathroom door. Y/N squints against the sudden invasion of light from the room beyond. Her gaze takes in the expanse of her surroundings and the rich emerald hue of the Head Dorm's walls. Then, her eyes lock on two men. One with platinum blond hair and the other with brunette locks, both embracing the shadows with deadly intent in their fiery eyes.

She bristles, caught between shying away and clutching the attention she’s receiving from them. Y/N doesn’t dwell on their appearance for too long, afraid to develop the ability to read their eyes and stumble across the shame and pity possibly nestled within them.

Pansy whispers something under her breath, which Y/N fails to hear under the barrage of despondency she finds herself in. She feels Pansy’s hesitant touch on her forearm, briefly catching her and Draco retreating away, the door to the room closing behind them in a soft thud.

Silence runs freely around the room, undeterred by the confined space. Its loudness disturbs Y/N, forcing her to wince. She wills herself to say something, but all the words are lodged in her throat, searing it from the inside out.

Theodore takes a deep breath, the sound piercing the stillness in the air. But his words don’t leave his mouth the same way his gaze never paces beyond a fixed point on the ground.

“Why are you not looking at me?” Y/N asks. She’s surprised that she’s articulated her thoughts even though she doesn’t have enough strength to speak.

Theodore shakes his head. “I can’t”. His words have finally forced his gaze away from the ground, although he’s refusing to settle it on her.

“I wouldn’t look at me either. I get it.” Y/N sniffles. Darkness clouds her sight. She’s tired and aching, barely finding her grip on reality.

She wants to scream, and she wants to cry, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. Like her mainframe has been hijacked and forced to shut down.

Something in her periphery catches her attention. Theodore is now standing before her, hands trembling by his sides. They move to embrace her waist, to hold her shoulders, to cup her face; but they never do. They only trace invisible lines that mirror her figure. It’s then that she notices the fray in his gaze. Instead of the rejection and the indifference she expected to find, there’s dejectedness, misery, and pain.

“I would look at you forever if you let me,” Theodore answers with his hands hanging in the space between them. “If you would still allow me.”

“Touch me,” Y/N retorts. Hold me, find me, fix me, love me.

And Theodore does just that with unprecedented gentleness. He traces her cheeks with his thumb and pulls her by the waist closer to his side. His nose nuzzles her neck, breathing in her scent. His lips press against the shell of her ear, his warm breath penetrating her soul and sending a fond tingle down her spine.

He touches her, not like she’s a porcelain doll or a bomb about to detonate. Theodore touches her like she’s the most precious piece of art he’s ever encountered, and he’s afraid that even one stumbled breath could force her colors away.

“I love you,” he confesses. A loan tear accompanies his declaration, inscribing the words on the fabric of Y/N’s soul. “And I am so sorry. So sorry, my love, for what my absence and negligence have put you through.”

“Theo…”

“No, Y/N. Don’t. Don’t try to say anything.”

Theodore wipes her tears, gently tucking some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Y/N nods, allowing her boyfriend to hoist her in his arms and carry her to bed. She hides her face in his neck, absorbing the lingering traces of his sandalwood perfume.

When he places her on the bed, she notices the change in his demeanor as soon as she tangles her legs with his and rushes to press his hands against his chest. Her eyes fill with tears, and she fails to prepare herself for the rejection that she’s afraid might be rushing her way.

To her astonishment, Theodore pulls her into a tighter hug, as if seeking a connection beyond the surface, binding together not only their skin but also the intricate layers below—souls, hearts, atoms.

“Did he…” Theodore pauses, choking on unspoken words. “Did he go far?”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and Draco came just in time.”

“Barely,” Theodore denies. A stolen glance gives Y/N a clear view of his clenched jaw and crestfallen expression. The war may be looming, yet to find its way to the Wizarding World, but it has already made a dominion in Theodore’s features.

“Just in time.” Minutes pass while Y/N is cocooned protectively in between Theodore’s strong arms. They encase her, filling her being with the placidity and the tenderness that was robbed of her some time ago. Her eyes close, darkness not as fearful as it seemed now that Theodore’s hands are weaving through her hair, and his voice is carrying a tender lullaby. “How did you know?”

Theodore’s hands falter and the lullaby ends on an abrupt note. His arms pull Y/N closer to his chest as he ruefully explains what happened, “A Gryffindor boy found me. He was frightened and jittery. At first, I thought it was because Draco and I were standing together. Then he said something about Defense class, the Carrows, and the Cruciatus. Your name got suddenly tangled in the gruesomeness of it all, so I rushed to the class as far as I could."

“They wanted me to hurt him,” Y/N whispers in a small voice.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

Theodore looks at her with glassy eyes. “I know you would never.”

His hands sooth Y/N, featherless touches easing the altercation in her soul. She meets his gaze, heart shattering at the pain he harbors. She knows it’s not easy for Theodore to be a silent witness to torture and heartache, understanding his unconscious pursuit of absorbing pain and rooting it in his very being.

“Please,” she begins, “please, Theo. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t.”

He declines vehemently, “I promised to protect you from the darkness, within me and beyond me. And I have clearly done neither.”

You had no way of knowing! Y/N argued in her head. You, alone, cannot stop this madness! So many rebuttals swarmed her head. She wanted to pelt Theodore with every single one of them until some sense got knocked into him. “Darkness,” he says so loosely as if he’s ever exposed her to any of it.

All her memories of Theodore exuded radiance, softness, and peace. He’s only ever steered her away from the darkness, whether it was from Umbridge’s rage back in their fifth year or Bellatrix’s terror at the end of their sixth.

To hear him speak of himself like this, as if he’s one of them, a shadow branded by the mark of death, hurts her more than everything Amycus did to her.

“What did you do to Amycus?”

The name causes Theodore’s heart to falter beneath the palm of Y/N’s hands. Her eyes trace the veins of his neck, astounded by the voraciousness of their color as his anger escalates. “Do not say that vermin’s name.”

Darkness, Theodore would call it if he sees himself now. And yet, all the world is witnessing according to Y/N is a darker shade of love and concern: just as sincere, a lot more warm.

“Carrow,” she concedes. “What did you do to Carrow?”

“I wanted to kill him,” Theodore answers, studying Y/N’s face for a reaction. “I almost killed him.” If he was looking for disgust or worse, fear, he couldn’t find it.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Draco called for Snape.”

Y/N hums, absentmindedly reaching for Theodore’s hand. He hesitates when he feels her fingers entwining with his, his entire body tensing up. Y/N whines, and he takes a deep breath. His fingers lace hers, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, treasure. No one but that scum is. Snape said nothing. He bound his hands and escorted him to his office.”

“Good,” Y/N replies.

“That’s not all,” Theodore intercedes, catching her attention. She shifts in his arms, waiting for his next words with a bated breath. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What?” came Y/N’s question, loud, sharp, and clear. It resonated across the room, its intensity surprising her.

“I didn’t kill him,” Theodore admits. He’s moved now, body peering away from Y/N’s hold to better study her features. She keeps them the way they are, with no sign of the acrimony or the resentment she suspects Theodore is looking for. “But I uttered the curse. Draco countered it somehow, and it rebounded. Hit the wall instead. It cracked it, the same way I cracked every single bone in his body and watched him bleed.”

As the words fill the space between them, Y/N rushes to grab Theodore’s hands. She inspects them, surprised to find them bruising. How did I not notice this? She whimpers at her late realization—her neglect. But now that his marred skin is beneath the scrutiny of her gaze, she notices that the blue and purple hues are rather dull in comparison to his story.

Almost as if Theodore understood her silent concerns, he says, “Cruciatus.” Y/N bristles, though her body is traitorous. It jolts, feeling the residue of the invisible needles and acid-laced knives. “Sectumsempra and a number of other curses that flew out of my mouth without thought when I saw you lying on the ground, bloody, bruised, broken. Torn apart by a mediocre middle-aged man, who deserves nothing but to be decapitated, torn limb by limb, until there’s not even a speck of his ashes left on the—”

“Theo,” Y/N calls. Her voice quivers, mirroring the tremble in her body provoked by those words. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Theodore sniffs, head bending down.

Y/N rushes to answer, shaking her head violently. “No. I can’t… I can’t watch you tear yourself apart over something you had no control over.”

“I—”

“Listen to me! Listen to me and not the lies inside your head. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it burn? More than a Fienfyre cast by the Dark Lord himself. But you weren’t there—no, Theo, come back to me and stop traveling in time inside your head.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Theo defended. “Merlin, Y/N. I was supposed to be there! To stop all of this from happening. You’re in pain more than I am. So, stop subduing my anger!”

“I’m subduing your self-deprecation! I’m not blaming you, and I will not fan the flames of your anger. You had no way, no way, of knowing Carrow would do this.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he answers with a little less fight and a lot more shame.

“And you did, Theo,” Y/N assures, bringing herself closer to his side. “You got me out. You saved me. In time.”

“Barely!” Theodore screams, a deluge of tears running down his cheeks and burying his resolve in their undertow. “But I will save you this time. I’ll get you out. Both of us. I’ll take you away, somewhere you won’t be judged for your blood or your mistake in choosing me.”

“You’re not a mistake,” Y/N refutes, begging him to see. “Look at you. You call yourself a vision of darkness when your love and care are shining through.”

“My love is darkness, viciousness, and cruelty.” It’s almost as if he’s the one begging her to understand.

Tears cascade down Y/N’s cheeks, the saltiness and bitterness of them incomparable to Theodore’s words. “Your love is fierceness,” Y/N professes, taking Theodore’s breath away, “seamlessness, and warmth.”

“I made you live through pain,” Theodore pleads, hoping she agrees. But she doesn't.

“And I will live after it. With you.”

The confession shatters the last of Theodore’s resolve. He pulls Y/N closer, resting his chin atop her head and enveloping her in a secure embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he cries. His fingers weave through her hair, gripping the back of her head, anchoring himself in her presence—convincing himself that she’s here. “You are so strong, treasure. Stronger than life and death, brighter than light, and fiercer than shadows. I love you, my Y/N. And I swear on your head and on my mother’s last breath that I will protect you even if I have to do the unforgivable. No one will ever hurt you ever again.”

“I know,” Y/N nods as Theodore kisses the crown of her head. Each breath he takes, every word he utters, stitches through her soul, mending the threads of herself. “And I love you all the more for it.”

“You’ve endured a war. I’ll be damned if I let you face another,” Theodore promises, capturing Y/N’s lips and seamlessly merging his soul with hers.

Tomorrow remains uncertain, and control extends only so far across the horizon. Yet, with Theodore by her side, Y/N finds the darkness considerably less formidable. Even if he's willing to commit the unforgivable to shield her, forgiveness is a given. His love is the tranquility that follows the tempest, and she's ready to navigate through destruction with Theodore.

I never expected to write about a topic as painful and sensitive as SA or rape.

Hearing the multiple accounts of women around me made me see how these experiences are prevalent yet scarcely communicated. When I wrote this piece, it was with no intention to diminish the seriousness of the issue but rather use this platform as a conduit to raise the matter and bring it to light. Whether you’ve been personally impacted by this disheartening situation or witnessed someone close to you go through this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are incredibly brave for enduring this, and there is no reason to feel ashamed. You lived through it and will live after it with even more fierceness and courage than you've ever had.

If you ever feel like talking, please know that I am here to listen, without judgment or reservation. 🤍

All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

#harry potter fanfiction #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott imagine #theo nott angst #theodore nott imagine #overprotective theodore nott #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #hp fandom #theodorenott

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mrsriddlenott · 3 months

Text

Ex!Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader

Angsty asf,Break Ups, Language, Voldemort, Wizarding War.

Summary: You and Mattheo were just wrong for each other, destined to be ripped apart. He hurt you trying to protect you, and even apart is trying to protect you still, but he can’t think of everything.

“We’re done okay, I am done. I don’t want this anymore Mattheo,” You screamed as he stopped, shocked in front of you, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“What are you- you’re not saying….” You scoffed as he approached you again, stepping back so he couldn’t touch you like he so desperately wanted to. “You can’t be serious y/n we basically just started.”

“No we didn’t! That’s the fucking problem, we’ve been doing this for months and I thought it meant something to you and then I find out your friends don’t even know who I am??” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as he tried to speak, “You wasted my time, if you wanted to just be fuck buddies I’d have been fine with that and I would have kept it a secret for you if you asked but you made me feel like…..” You laughed at your own stupidity as you turned away from Mattheo’s pleading eyes.

“Princess I didn’t just-“ You cut him off before he could finish, turning back around yelling as tears welled in your eyes, “You lied to me Mattheo, you said you wanted something real, you told me you wanted someone you could trust and that you had finally found someone and all along you were the untrustworthy one!” Mattheo’s hands fell to his sides as he tried to form words, but nothing would come out.

“Were you embarrassed of me?! Is that why? Did you feel like all your rich, perfect friends would hate you for being with me or did you just want me for fun until you needed to find the pureblood future wife your father expects you to have!?” You breathed heavily as you registered your words, his eyes shone with tears at the mention of his father and only locked on yours for a second before turning to your door and tugging it open.

Mattheo stopped, weighing the odds before turning back to you with tears in his eyes, “I’d much rather marry you….but that can’t happen because he won’t allow it. I guess we did waste our time after all.” And in a matter of seconds he was gone, from the dorm, the school, from your life, no one actually knew were he went but there were rumors he left to join his father’s cause, which you just couldn’t allow yourself to think were true.

It had been weeks since you last saw his face or heard his voice, after months of seeing each other in every second of free time it hurt to wake to the reminder that you were alone. But today was different, when you dressed and returned to your bed after a morning shower a neat envelope awaited your arrival, you recognized his hand writing immediately and tore it open.

Y/n, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I’ve done now, when you hear it you’re going to hate me and the thought breaks me. Please don’t blame yourself because I had to, I could never let him hurt you and despite everything I did to keep you safe he found out about you. He made me do things I can’t say here, things I see in my dreams on nights you stray from them but I promise one day you will be happy and safe. I will give up my life to make it so.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to fathom what Mattheo had done, what his father could have forced him to do. What he had done to protect you. You crashed to your knees, sobbing and wishing you could somehow get a timeturner to go back to that night, beg him to stay, apologize for being so stupid. Of course he had kept you a secret for your own protection, the son of Voldemort couldn’t be walking around with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who could barley pass by. He had kept his friends in the dark so they couldn’t tell anyone, he had snuck you around the school, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted you safe. You had to get him back, no matter what he did in his father’s name he was yours and you were his, always.

By the next week everyone had heard the stories, Muggle and Muggleborns being tortured, “traitors” to the cause being executed, you didn’t know if he was involved, not for sure but a part of you knew. There were signs, people whispering about a new lord in training, a new way for Voldemort to gain power using his son as a weapon. It wasn’t long before most of Mattheo’s friends had gone too, making it all the more obvious where he had gone. It hurt you more to know he was doing it for you, every name of the missing and dead reminded you it was all to protect you. You began to lose hope that you’d ever see him again, that he was lost, forever his father’s minion.

You sat with your back against the cold stone wall of the astronomy tower, letting the smoke of an un-hit cigarette waft past you as you lost yourself in a deep thought. You had been having trouble sleeping, imaging the awful things being done to Mattheo and by Mattheo was bad enough but it only got worse at night. You’d found yourself gravitating to Mattheo’s spot often these days, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what life would be like in a few months. You’d be gone from Hogwarts for good, and who knew what that meant for you now, you had just begun to imagine leaving into the world alone when the sound of rushed footsteps caught you off guard, but not more than the voice that came with the halt of shoes on marble, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be in your dorm,” He spun around to watch the door, cursing to himself as though a plan had gone terribly wrong, and you supposed it had.

He looked tired, his hair disheveled with large bags under his eyes and his voice seemed different, harder, “You need to get the fuck up now and run, just go hide somewhere please if they see you they’ll” He was cut off by the sound of more boots quickly ascending the steps up the tower before he was grabbing you and aggressively trying to shove you into a closet too late.

“There’s the girl,” a gruff male voice shouted as the door swung open, “Knew if we followed you we’d find her.” Mattheo’s head hung as his voice broke, “no, no, I didn’t do it all for nothing.” He turned quickly, his arms out and blocking you body with his, “He can’t have her, I did everything he asked.”

“Clearly not since you’re here,” a second, larger man, cackled out, “Didn’t Daddy tell you to sit tight up in your mansion Pretty Boy.” The man laughed as though he was the funniest man alive as everyone stared back and forth, recognizing all four of us wouldn’t be leaving this room if things didn’t go as planned. “He can’t have her.” Mattheo spat again, with less conviction.

“Well you know the deal Handsome, and the Dark Lord is tired of waiting on your decision, you take the mark, we leave this pretty little thing alone and you never speak to her again….if not we have orders to make her death last awhile.” You flinched behind Mattheo’s muscular frame, not at your impending, excruciating death, but at the thought of Mattheo officially joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. If he had the mark there was no way out, no convincing the courts to spare him, even if he survived after all he had done that mark is a one way ticket to a Dementor’s Kiss. “No Mattheo you can’t”

Mattheo turned to you as your voice shook, tears falling down both your faces as he grabbed your cheeks tightly, kissing you as though you were air and he was hyperventilating. His head rested on your forehead as he thumbed your tears away, “I don’t have a choice Baby, I love you and I always will.” He tugged you into his arms, his lips next to your ear as he whispered low enough just for you to hear, “I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you, but I want you to live your life, when you get out of here run and forget me, become a Healer like you wanted and know I’m looking out for you.” He slipped away from you, leaving one final kiss on your temple before he was tugged from the room and from your life.

And you knew, from your safety, that he had taken the mark and would eventually take his father’s place as the Dark Lord if the war didn’t end soon. Maybe then, with all that power, he could end the war and return to you, a fantasy that gave you hope in the darkest days of the war.

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orobaxis · 1 year

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I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #anne sallow

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hp-hcs · 1 month

Text

• smut• and lead us nott into temptation — asshole! pureblood! dom bottom! theodore nott x male! muggleborn! catholic! sub top! reader

requested by 🦈 anon! (aka my silly goofy lil guy <3)

WARNING: if you don’t like sacrilegious shit or gay male reader inserts, KEEP SCROLLING

i’ve got enough religious trauma to last me many lifetimes, so writing this one was just like ✍️🥲📿

tws: ⚠️dub-con⚠️, 🔞smut mdni🔞, literally no plot, manipulation, coercion, amab reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, pure blasphemy ngl, inappropriate use of religious prayers, lot of shit talking about the catholic church, gratuitous use of em-dashes, gratuitous use of the pet-name “angel”

you and theo are dormmates or something? idfk man this is literally just 2.2k words of depravity

not edited cause tbh i’m hella embarrassed that i wrote this

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“…hallowed be thy na— Theo?”

“What are you doing?” your roommate asked as he stepped inside your shared dorm, his eyebrows furrowing as his gaze focused on the rosary in your hand.

“Praying,” you mumble, cheeks flushing under his heavy stare.

“You’re religious?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You believe in all that Muggle deity bullshit?”

“Yes.” You stiffened, lips twisting in distaste at his choice of words.

You could physically see his pupils dilate at your affirmative answer.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. “So you’re…what, celibate, or whatever it’s called?”

You startled at the sudden change of topic.

“Um…abstinent, yes,” you corrected, taking a step backwards as he moved closer.

“Shit,” he cursed again. “That’s fuckin’ hot.”

He kept moving forward, crowding you back against the wall. You squeaked when he rested his hand against the wall beside your head, blocking you in on one side. He gently, but firmly, gripped your jaw in his other hand. His gaze raked up and down your body.

You gulped. “Th-Theo, what’re you d—”

He cut you off with a harsh kiss.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was Theo biting your bottom lip hard enough to bleed, tightening his grip on your jaw to wrench it open, and shoving his tongue in your mouth.

You were frozen, the rosary slipping from your fingers and hitting the floor with a loud clatter. After an aggressively…passionate? possessive? minute, Theo pulled back.

“My sweet little angel,” he cooed, gently stroking the side of your face. “So pretty and pure.”

Your skin prickled under his touch, at the way his eyes darkened with hunger. The way his gentle caress belied the drop of blood running down your chin.

He looked like sin. The way his hair curled above his ears, his pretty pink lips dotted red with your blood…

He looked like the Devil himself.

“I want you to fuck me, Y/n,” Theo murmured unabashedly into your ear.

Your knees trembled. Your heart raced. Your eyes were so wide, it was near painful. “Wh-what?”

“Please, angel? I want you to fuck me,” Theo whispered against your lips, a sensual tone in his voice.

“Or,” he sighed over-dramatically, really playing it up, “if you want to remain a prude, you can tell me to stop right now and I will; no hard feelings.”

You trembled. What were you doing? Why were you even considering this?

Theo’s hand remained on your waist, and he ran his thumb across your bottommost rib in a steady pattern, back and forth, as he waited for your answer.

“L-Leviticus 18:22,” you spluttered, doing your damn best to ignore the way the sunlight streaming through your dorm window highlighted and accentuated Theo’s gorgeous bone structure. “Th-thou shalt not lie with m-mankind, as with womankind: it is a-abomination.”

“That’s not a no.”

“That’s not a yes!” you argued. “Besides, lust is a sin of its own!”

“No, this doesn’t count.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an abomination, not sex. Says so right in your little book. So therefore…” his fingers wandered down to the waistband of your trousers, dipping teasingly underneath to ghost over your hip bone before retreating. “Therefore it can’t be lust.”

It was the most backwards logic you’d ever heard.

But it was hard to think about turning him away when the heel of his hand was suddenly pressing against the front of your trousers.

“I-it…it isn’t?” you choke out, a confusing new sensation sparking in your stomach. “A-are you sure?”

“Of course,” Theo said, so confidently that you couldn’t help but believe him.

“I-if you’re sure…” you trailed off, eyes widening as Theo dropped like a rock, his knees hitting the flagstone with a resounding crack that you wished you could record, just so you could listen to it over and over and over again.

His impatient fingers fumbled with the button of your trousers, yanking them and your boxers down to your mid-thigh in a single smooth motion.

You flushed bright red at the mere notion of being naked from the waist down in front of another person; let alone Theo, the boy who’d been your roommate for the last eight years.

He kept his gaze firmly locked with yours, those unnervingly dead eyes framed with sinfully long lashes, as he flattened his tongue against the base of your dick and licked a long, slow stroke up the length of it.

“Oh, fuck—” you cursed, your head falling backwards and hitting the wall behind you with a solid thunk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.” He grinned, his thumb swiping over the head of your dick and collecting the dribble of precum that was steadily leaking from the tip before spreading it around.

You whined pathetically, your thighs shaking as a moan was wrenched from your lips. Theo grinned wickedly at how debauched you already looked.

Without a speck of hesitation, he closed his mouth around your dick, his clever tongue teasing the underside. He hollowed his cheeks around you and you gasped out a choked-off moan.

Theo’s hand snaked up and found your wrist, guiding your hand to the mess of curls on the top of his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping onto a handful of it for dear life just to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming pleasure. Honestly, the only thing keeping you from falling over was Theo’s tight grip on your hips.

“Shit shit shit shit—”

He pulled off of your dick with a sinful pop.

“Keep reciting,” Theo rasped, his voice already rough and breathless.

“Wh-what?”

“I interrupted your prayer when I walked in here. Keep reciting.”

You gulped, licking your lips nervously as you tried to remember where you’d left off before fully giving up and just starting the Our Father over. “O-Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Th-thy kingdom come, thy w-will be done, on Earth as it— hah~”

Your head fell back against the wall again as Theo sucked furiously on the tip of your dick, all of your thoughts going out the window.

Theodore, that bastard, pulled off again.

You whined at the loss. “No- d-don’t—”

“Ah ah ah,” Theo chided, patting your thigh. “You stop, I stop. Keep going.”

You hissed out a displeased grumble before returning to your prayer as he returned to his S-tier dick sucking. “O-on Earth as it is in H-Heaven. G-give us this d-day our— Theo— daily b-bread—”

His fingers slipped down from your hip to brush against the sensitive skin behind your balls.

Your hips jerked forward on instinct, and Theo moaned like a cheap whore around your cock as it was shoved down his throat, his nose suddenly buried in your pubes.

“And f-forgive us our tre-trespasses…” you panted, fingers tightening their grip on his hair as your eyes squeezed shut.

There was an odd sensation, like a coil tightening, behind your belly button. It was strange, although not unpleasant.

“…as we f-forgive those who— who trespass aga-against us.”

Theo pulled away again. You opened your mouth to curse him out—Heaven knows he deserved it, the damn tease—when he got to his feet and promptly shucked off his shirt and trousers, dropping his boxers without a hint of modesty or insecurity.

You stared, mouth agape, as Theo wandered over to his bed, seemingly in no hurry. He slowly splayed himself out on his bed for you, casting a wandless lubrication charm with a sly grin and an easy, relaxed posture that was belied by his achingly hard cock practically touching his stomach.

“Close your mouth, angel,” he purred, beckoning you closer with two fingers. “You might catch flies.”

You took a small step forward, entranced by the sight in front of you.

“Keep praying, angel,” Theo murmured, running a hand through his already-disheveled curls—which only served in making his just-fucked hairstyle even more pronounced.

“A-and lead us n-not into temptation,”—Theodore Nott was nothing if not temptation in its purest form—“but deliver us from evil.”

You took another step closer, then another, until you were by his bedside. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Theo echoed, reaching for you with one hand. His fingers knotted themselves in your shirt, yanking you down on top of him.

He grabbed the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours. You wiggled, kicking your trousers and boxers off from where they were still stuck around your knees before pulling back to gasp for air.

Theo grabbed the front of your shirt again, yanking on it. “Off.”

You complied without a second thought, tugging your shirt off over your head in one fluid motion.

Theo groaned at the sight of your body as you tossed your shirt God-knows-where. He grabbed the back of your neck again and tugged you into another passionate kiss.

“One day, ‘m gonna ride you,” he mumbled against your lips, running a possessive hand over your stomach. “My fuckin’ gorgeous boy. But today, you’re gonna fuck me.”

He pulled you fully on top of him, your knees between his, your forearms flat against the mattress on either side of the boy underneath you.

“Y’know, I never told you to stop praying,” Theo murmured, reaching downwards. His fingers tightened around your cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it closer to his ass and pushing his body down against it.

You swallowed nervously as you took the not-so-subtle hint, taking a deep breath before slowly pressing the tip in and continuing your Rosary. “H-Hail Mary, f-full of Gr—ah!—ace—”

You had to pause then to bury your head in the crook of his neck, your breathing coming in shaky gasps. Your body zinged with pleasure, your toes curling.

“That’s it, baby,” Theo cooed, petting your hair gently. “Doing so good. Keep going. Makin’ me feel so good.”

“Th-the Lord is with thee. Blessed art th-thou amongst women—” you whispered breathlessly against his sweaty skin, pausing again for another second to compose yourself before you very slowly and hesitantly pressed in further.

Theo’s knees tightened around your hips as he dug his heels into the backs of your thighs, urging you closer. “Sh-shit— angel, I need you to go in all the way. C-can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

You nodded and took a deep breath, and slowly and carefully pushed yourself all the way in, bottoming out inside of him after an agonizingly long moment.

Theo gasped sharply as soon as you were fully seated inside of him. His fingers tightened their grip on your shoulders until his nails managed to break the skin. You leaned down to press your lips against his—much more gently than he had—and moaned into his mouth at the slight sting from his nails.

Theo sighed in pleasure against your lips and returned the kiss. “M-move, angel. Need you t-to move.”

You slowly pulled nearly all the way out, your eyes fixed on his face. You wanted to document every facial expression, every muscle twitch, everything that Theo did while underneath you.

Watching his lower lip tremble as a moan spilled out of him had to be your breaking point. Your hips snapped forward of their own accord, quickly filling him back up. “A-and blessed- is- the- fruit- fuck- of thy w-oh!-mb, Jesus.”

His head fell backwards with a loud cry, his nails raking up your back as he scrambled for anything to cling onto. “Yes! Fuck— harder!”

“H-Holy Mar— shit! M-Mary, Mother of G-God…”

You sped up, driving into him faster and harder with every frantic demand that left his lips. You let out a high whine as Theo leaned up to suck on the tender flesh under your jaw with a feral-like possessiveness. Red and purple marks had already begun to bloom along your neck and jaw.

The coil in your stomach tightened even further.

“Th-Theo, I don’t— wh-what’s—?” you stuttered, panicking at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Y-you about to cum, angel?” he panted. He stroked a gentle hand over your lower abdomen. “You feel s-something funny right here?”

You whimpered and nodded frantically. “P-please— I’m gonna—”

“No. Hold it, angel.”

“Wh-what?”

“You don’t get to finish until you finish your prayer, baby boy.”

You hissed in discomfort. “P-pray for us sinners—”

Your words were interrupted by a high-pitched moan from Theo as his back arched off the bed. He started chanting your name, over and over again, like a prayer of his own.

His fingers scrabbled for a hold on your shoulders as he tightened around you. “Shit shit shit— ‘m not g-gonna last— fuck! Cum for me, angel,” Theo pleaded, his nails digging further into your back and leaving long marks that quickly blossomed into a rich pink color.

“Nowandatthehourofourdeath!” you rushed the last line with a near-shriek as the coil in your abdomen exploded, your toes curling again and your vision going white. Your arms buckled and you collapsed on top of Theo, who was experiencing the exact same thing as you.

You both just laid there in a sweaty heap, limp and boneless from your respective mind-blowing orgasms.

“Amen,” Theo said softly, finishing your prayer. He casted a wandless cleaning spell on the both of you before gently wrapping his arms around you and stroking your scratched-up back as you both came down from your highs. You let out a pleased purr at the feeling of his soft touch gently brushing over your stinging scratches, a wordless spell from Theo methodically coating the marks with a numbing topical ointment.

You echoed the sentiment after a moment of catching your breath, content to just cuddle with him in this moment. You pressed a kiss to the side of Theo’s throat and whispered a singular word against his skin, “Amen.”

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott smut #theo nott x reader #male reader

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yanxidarlings · 5 months

Text

ik i should focus on requests but i just have some ideas

what if the reader from the slytherin x dormmate reader series ended up in ravenclaw? (spoiler alert he now has a ravenclaw yandere harem) will address the slytherin side of this conundrum in another post but for now i present

YANDERE HOGWARTS: RAVENCLAW BOYS X DORMMATE READER

"ravenclaw" the entire hall falls dead silent, m/n l/n, from the famous l/n family? the purebloods that have been in slytherin for centuries? a ravenclaw. the young boy had a look of horror on his face as he sat there in shock.

the sorting hat was taken off his head and mcgonagall ushered him towards the ravenclaw table. "no- but" he squeked out as he was sat with the rest of the first year ravenclaws. he felt himself bumping into someone as he sat down, oh my god did i just touch a mudblood, m/n thought, stealing a glance at the person- boy, who was next to him, merlin help me i'm going to hell.

"names michael corner" m/n heard the faint voice of another boy, his handoutstretched as the prefect led the first years up the ravenclaw tower stairs. do i have to do this walk everyday, m/n thought to himself as he stared ahead blankly. "you alright, mate?" the boy walking next to m/n spoke once again, waving his hand in front of m/n's face.

taking it one step further, the boy poked m/n on the cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts - "get your hands off me you filthy-" "quiet down first years, this is the entrance to the common room" m/n was cut off by the prefect, sending a glare the boy - maxwell?, myles? michael?.

• yeah so homeboy reader was not prepared to get sorted into any house but slytherin. i mean ig ravenclaw is better than hufflepuff or god forbid gryffindor but by a small margin.

• dude kinda misses his slythergremlins sure they were annoying but at least they aren't going to suck the magic out of him like the muggleborns in ravenclaw were.

• so reader doesn't really get off on the best foot with his new dormmates, probably says something offensive, and boom, now his dormmates hate him. not to mention his childhood friends who got sorted into slytherin as expected started giving him the cold shoulder.

• okay so they don't hate him but he does feel like the odd one out. yes his first question when he arrived at the dorms was their blood status's and he purposely moved his bed further away from them just so he didn't accidentally catch half blood cooties but it only took him six months to stop scrubbing down the shower before taking one incase one of them carried a virus that would convert him into a blood traitor.

TERRY BOOT (fancast fionn whitehead):

• terry boot is probably the most offended of the three, the other two take the readers behaviour in relative stride but terry get's pretty bothered. is it because he's upset that reader doesn't like him or is it because he's actually offended? the world may never know

• at some point he started going through readers stuff, just to make sure he isn't trying to poison us, but steals little keepsakes like socks, pins and the l/n family signet ring that sent the reader on a rampage for an entire month before he gave up on finding it.

• the winter break after that, reader came back to hogwarts with bruises all across his legs.

"you fell down the stairs? is your coordination that poor or are you getting an early start on the hereditary alcholism in your family" terry scoffed, arms folded, a sceptic expression on his face as he observed the boys bruised limbs.

m/n scoffed "the l/n house has moving stairs you dimwit" he quickly closed the door to the bathroom "you nearly fell down the staircase on the way to potions last term" he added from behind the door. terry frowned, did he see scars on l/n's arm as well? he reached down into his pocket and gripped onto the signet ring he had taken from m/n's bedside table in november.

maybe i should give it back, he thought as he observed the pattern on the ring. as he approached m/n's bed, he began searching for a place to put the ring - on the table? inside the little cauldron? under the bed.

terry kneeled down, moving the sheet's out the way as the shoved it under neath the bunk. you know what, he called me mudblood last year, he can suffer. and with that, boot took the ring and hid it back in his pillowcase.

• terry is a denial kind of yandere, at least in this case, he justifies his actions in his mind and see's nothing wrong with what he does. stealing their stuff? friends share things all the time, stalking them? no he's just going in the same direction, manipulating them? he's sorry if they feel that way but that wasn't his intention.

• his initial dislike of the reader is what fuels his obsession, he simultaneously hates them, wants to be them and wants to be with them. terry thinks he wants the reader to become more accepting of life outside the pureblood bubble he was raised in but once he does and is able to function without the help of his dormmates, terry becomes abominably jealous.

• oh, you ate dinner all on your own without having to wait for terry and anthony to sit next to you and protect you from actual muggleborns? the audacity.

MICHAEL CORNER (fancast owen teague):

• michael is nowhere near as offended as terry, he honestly finds the readers behaviour kind of amusing if not a bit weird. but all purebloods are weird like that, besides it's impossible to hate someone with such a pretty face.

• his darling might be a bigoted blood supremacist but they're his bigoted blood supremacist. he's not as pressed about educating the reader about equality as terry he just figures that eventually the reader will fall madly in love with him and decide that true love is more important than the bloodline and then they'll have 10 babies together and live happily ever after.

• so please don't burst his bubble and act disgusted or blatantly reject his advances. michael really tries to ease his darling into his affection but doesn't really understand that going from sitting next to each other in classes is not one step below sleeping in his bed with him.

"what on merlins beard are you doing" m/n yelled as he swiftly kicked michael in the stomach, flinging the other off his bed. with an oomph, corner placed a hand on his stomach "ow, what is wrong with you" he whined, shifting to lean on his elbows, staring at m/n with a shocked expression "i should be asking what's wrong with you - have you not heard of personal space"

michael clicked his tongue, his eyes rolling "surely we've known each other for long enough to have sleepovers.. you know what a sleepover is right?" "i've never even seen your family tree and you want me to share a bed with you" m/n let out a scoff "you half-bloods are like cavemen merlin help me" he laid back and covered himself with his blanket.

blinking, michael fell silent for a moment "would you like me to get you a copy?" he finally asked, elaborating when the irritated boy muttered what from under the blanket "i'll find my family tree records and give you a copy if you'd like" he replied surely, a smile gracing his face.

m/n pulled the blanket down from covering his face, "well" he started, furrowing his brows, as if deep in thought "i guess so?"

• michael is the only one who openly pursues a romantic relationship with the reader. the darling can never tell the other two's true intentions but god damn is it obvious that michael's goal is to put a ring on it.

• even in fifth year, when he had a few girlfriends, he could. not. leave. reader. alone. literally invited his darling on his dates with ginny and then cho and made several inappropriate propositions and talked about the reader too much on the rare occasions that he was alone with any of his girlfriends which is why they all broke up with him pretty quickly.

• "m/n" "what" "cho broke up with me can you date me instead" "wtf"

ANTHONY GOLDSTEIN (fancast tarjei sandvik moe):

• anthony is intrigued by the reader the moment they sat next to him on the night of the sorting ceremony. any attempts he made at befriending his darling fell on deaf ears. so.. he couldn't help but want to take a look into his mind. and he was a natural born legilimens so it's not like his darling would notice.

• becomes protective of him almost immediately after. his darling is just so fragile and needs someone mature like anthony to make good decisions on his behalf. anthony is quick to cut off his darling from his childhood friends, so that when they got over their shock over the readers sorting, reader would be too attached to his new best friend to want them back.

• he won't let the darling out of his sight, when he studies in the library so will they, they should also take the same classes as him so he can help them with their homework. will mess with their dreams if they try to distance themself from him.

what a poor baby, anthony cooed to himself as he watched m/n from a distance. his cheeks red and tear stained as he bit his index finger, a sob escaped his lips as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

sure, anthony could have stopped riddle, nott and malfoy from shoving m/n around and calling him vile names, but then he would miss out on m/n's endearing sob session that came afterwards.

in the corner of his eye he spotted malfoy on his way back, and swiftly rushed in, hooking his arms with m/n's and dragging the other off with them "wh-" "malfoys on his way back" anthony picked up his pace "were you were watching the whole time?" m/n asked shakily. anthony pulled them both into another corridor, turning to face m/n "yes" he blinked "and you didn't do anything!" the red-faced boy choked out.

anthony smirked "you.. wanted me to come and defend you from malfoy and his goons?" his heart skipped a beat as m/n remained silent, looking defeated "no- i just- uh... i don't- i just" m/n stuttered, face flushing even redder as he stared at the ground.

• anthony infantilises his darling, treating him as a child that can't do anything right. it gets even worse in fifth year when he becomes a prefect: "dumbledore made me a prefect and not you because he knows you can barely tie your own shoelaces"

• goidsteins a lil condescending towards his darling, he exaggerates their mistakes and downplays their achievements. anything to make them dependent on his constant presence. he feels bad sometimes but when they come running to him for everything, it's all worth it ✨

• unlike other groups of yanderes *cough* the slytherins *cough*, these three don't have much of a problem sharing. they're already good friends, and aren't nearly as possesive as some yandere's (le slytherins) not to mention; at first, it's only michael who is openly pursuing the darling romantically.

• terry and anthony don't realise that they like the darling in the same way michael does until like, fifth year. sure there had been cuddling, shared showers and a bit too much emotional intimacy for 'just friends' but what can you expect from a bunch of nerds 😔✋.

• the ravenclaws foster one hell of a dependant relationship with the reader, becoming the only people he isn't nervous around, convincing him everyone else wouldn't be as understanding and his old friends hate him they want him dead so they promise to look after him in return for.. access to the l/n's private library.

• no they expect affection and loyalty back also as soon as they all graduate readers going to move out of his family home and move in with them dormmates for life right?

• no they aren't the worst yandere's not by a milestone but there's just something so suffocating about them.

• the darling will eventually be pressured into a poly relationship with the three. yes they actually ask him if he wants to date them but it's a rhetorical question it's either yes, or no and they start spiking his water with amortentia - then it's also yes.

• as ravenclaws, they realise that violence is not the answer, mind control is. disobedience, rejection, and provoking jealousy will result in the use of the imperius curse or a love potion.

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 9 months

Note

Hi darling,

I hope you’re good. Honestly, I’m astounded by the loveliness of your work. Your writing is so seamless and beautiful, and your ideas are alluring.

I hope you’re okay if I flood your inbox with requests soon.

I’d love to see what you can concoct for a Draco fic in my head. It’s such a shame we never got to deeply explore this character and his potential. So, here’s a hypothetical scenario: the reader is a muggleborn Gryffindor and a member of Golden Trio (or in this case, quartet). When she’s captured by the Snatchers and tortured by Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor, will Draco step up against his family to protect her?

I would love to see your take on this🤍

all too well

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of torture and dissociation, swearing !not proofread! (Obvi), English isn't my first language so excuse the mistakes 🤍

thank you for this idea, I tried my best ❤️

"What else did you take?", the woman shouts.

She has been screaming like this for minutes, hours, days. You don't remember how long you have been laying on the marble floor, how many times the cruciatus curse has hit you.

You don't remember where you are or who the woman is.

She has black curly hair and an angry face that resembles Andromedas if you look close enough.

She points her knife at you, plays with it in front of you to scare you; when she gets bored or annoyed she hits you, with curses that make your whole body tremble and burn.

The room is spinning, the tall walls seem to keep growing taller and you constantly have to fight to keep your eyes open and search for the light.

The floor hurts your head as the woman throws you around; "How did you get it" she keeps asking," what else" , she shouts.

Your brain can't form the answer she demands, and your eyes can't help but let tears fall.

As you look away you make out more faces.

Three people, two of them looking at you with a strict face, you deserve this, the say without having to speak, it is written all over their eyes.

One of them however looks at you with a scared face, his eyes tremble as they scan your body, not entirely sure what he is looking for. He knows you are hurt, he knows he can't help you, but he keeps looking, doesn't let you go, he stays with you.

You stare into his eyes, cold and silver, burning you with one look. His hands hold his wand with a tight grip, turning his knuckles white.

Who are you, you wonder. You must be important, you think to yourself; you feel important.

Please remember him, you beg yourself. The woman keeps screaming, keeps hurting you but you can only focus on him.

"Draco", the other woman whispers.

Draco.

And with that you remember everything.

Many years ago, when you didn't have to run for your life and survive in the woods;

When home was the red and golden common room, and your three best friends;

When the only things that bothered you were Ron stealing food from your plate and History of Magic class lasting way too long;

you had fallen in love

It was doomed from the start, you knew that of course. You were a muggleborn witch and he was a Malfoy, a pureblooded purist Slytherin; how could it ever work out between the two of you?

You remember the first few years, how his constant insults at you and your friends left you fuming and screaming.

You relive quidditch matches, how sure of himself he was before every match and how he would look at you with a sneer after losing to you.

You can still hear his annoying comments during class or before duels. Shut up Malfoy, you used to shout at him

"Shut up.", you mumble as you remember your past and the woman hits you with another curse.

Then your thoughts take you back to last year.

Draco Malfoy had gotten taller over the summer, his hair had also grown he had dropped his usual sleeked-back look that you mocked. You always knew he was handsome, like you also knew he was a shallow asshole. He was more quiet though, didn't seem to pay attention to his friends or to his teachers.

You would often find him alone; walking in the corridors with a skeptical look on his face.

One particular night you caught yourself tossing and turning in your bed. You were afraid; afraid that you wouldn't be able to save your parents or your friends from Death Eaters. You felt sorry for Harry, you wanted to help him carry the burden that was forced on him all those years ago.

School was also stressing you out, and all these thoughts formed a heavy burden that sat on your chest every night. So you decided to give up hopes of sleep and dreaming and let your feet carry you down the dark and quiet corridors.

That same night you spotted Draco Malfoy rushing somewhere on his own.

You don't remember why but you decided to follow him; maybe it wasn't exactly a decision that you made, but more of a pull that you felt.

You recall walking and turning, going up stairs and getting lost in the hallways.

As you turned one more time, you were met with two angry gray eyes looking at you intensely.

"Why are you following me?", he said.

"Where are you going?", you replied as you raised your wand.

Quickly accuses started flying out of your mouth, "Harry was right, you are with them.", you remember screaming at him and then flying backwards from a spell he cast on you.

“Shut up.” He shouts “You have no idea what is happening.”

"Are you helping them? Do you have any idea what you are doing?" you continued screaming as you stood up.

You remember then how he dropped to the floor and caged his face with his hands.

"I don't know what to do. I don't have another choice." he kept repeating more to himself than to you.

Up to that point Draco Malfoy was to you a spoiled rich wizard, who couldn't see past his privilege and his family's name.

He was cruel to your friends and a blood purist. He was a Death Eater.

But the way he looked now; like a helpless boy made you realize how little say he had in his life.

You knelt down next to him and said softly "Why don't you tell Dumbledore, maybe he can help?".

He laughed mockingly at that and replied "Dumbledore can't save anyone, let alone me."

You stayed in silence kneeling next to him for minutes, trying to think of a way out.

"Malfoy" you broke the silence "Whatever you are doing for them, delay it."

He raised his head and looked at you.

"Delay it, until we find a way to fix this.", you finished

"Why would you even bother and help me? They want to kill people like you; they-", he said but didn't finish

they are killing people like me you finished in your head for him.

For a few moments you couldn't say anything; he was right. You should just go to Dumbledore and tell him everything; let him deal with that, but you couldn't leave him alone.

You couldn't refuse help to the person who needed it the most. Even if he would never ask for it; perhaps that was precisely why.

"It's the right thing, isn't it? Someone has to do it.", you exclaimed

"How very Gryffindor of you." he said with a roll of his eyes and then out of nowhere "Thank you."

"You have to work with me, trust me; in order for this work.", you said and he agreed.

With that began secret meetups and words of comfort.

You weren't enemies or friends. You were a team.

You were the person that helped him through everything, the one who listened when he cried and offered him a shoulder to lean on when everything broke down.

It was strange at first; but it was the right thing to do, and you were brought up to do just that.

You quickly learned that his company was nice; he was nice.

He could be funny when he wanted to and you found out that you had a lot in common.

“Why do you act so different in front of everyone?”, you asked him once.

“Different how?”, he asked back

“Like an emotionless selfish dick” you replied easily “When in reality, you care and protect those you love.”

“Sod off” he said and then “Even if that were true, I suck miserably at it.”

“The protecting or the caring part?”, you asked with a calm voice

He looked at you then with a curious look before turning away and sighing “Both.”

"Both." you whisper now and he can barely hear it.

"What?" the woman shouts, thinking you have an answer to her questions.

"What?", you remember shouting at him when he revealed his plan to you; their plan to kill Dumbledore and attack the school.

"Be quiet!.", he insisted, you could tell by his eyes he was distraught too; he didn't want this- didn't want any of it.

"I did everything I could to slow it down, I shouldn't even be telling you this; they will kill us both.", he muttered as every flicker of hope inside him was dying out.

"I am telling you this to protect you, win you some time, go.", his eyes were ice cold, piercing through you and his hands were griping your arms tightly; almost shaking you.

You couldn't say anything; you remember feeling as if everything he had just told you was fake. Dumbledore couldn't die, Draco wouldn't kill him, he couldn't.

And Hogwarts, your home for all those years, couldn't be attacked by them. It was the safest place on Earth.

Until it wasn't.

That was the last conversation you had with him. After that you weren't sure you would ever see him again.

You followed Harry; of course you did, you couldn't leave him alone, not after everything he'd been through and everything you witnessed together.

You thought about Draco often; mostly at night when everyone was asleep and nature kept you company; you stared into the night sky and tried to find his constellation.

You thought you could talk to him that way; "I am alright" you would say "Are you?" you always asked.

But no answer came.

You would replay every interaction, every conversation. You tried to remember his features; the exact grey of his eyes and his blonde hair. His look when he smiled (which wasn't often) and the way he played with his wand when he wanted to avoid your eyes.

Nothing ever happened between the two of you; nothing physical at least. Because the safe haven you two built had to have meant something.

Everything fell apart when you were caught.

You were alone and hurting; your friends were at best locked up somewhere and you couldn't think of a way out.

You couldn't think.

All you could feel was pain; everywhere

And then you saw Draco and every interaction; every feeling started playing again inside your head. You began living every moment from when you met him up to your last conversation.

"Go!" that is what he said to you then.

It was unbearable; you kept losing him over and over again, the story kept replaying and you couldn't pause it.

You couldn't stop and marvel at the good moments.

The way he held your hand when he needed comfort but didn't know how to ask for it;

Or his laugh when you both remembered your early years; how you both knew nothing, weren't prepared for the nightmare that would follow.

"Make it stop.", you heard his voice say and it took you back to third year and his constant complaining during Care of Magical Creatures.

"Stop.", his voice said again, closer now. “She clearly doesn’t know anything, we are wasting our time.” He kept repeating.

It is real, you realized, it isn't your memories or your fantasy, it is him.

As you move your head to get a closer look at him you hear footsteps getting close.

You hear your friends and then realize they aren’t alone, they’ve got help. We might survive this, a voice inside tells you.

All that hope crumbles down as the woman, Bellatrix you remember, grabs you and points her wand at you.

“No one moves.” She says slowly; her eyes wide open scanning the faces of everyone.

She doesn’t see Draco though, who shoots a Bombarda at her and quickly runs to your side.

His parents stand still and shocked, his fathers eyes darkening as time passes.

“What have you done?” He asks him and then Bellatrix gets up to start running towards you.

It’s chaos; what happens next. Spells shooting everywhere, wands flying out of hands. You can’t keep your eyes open for a long time, can't keep yourself up, you feel hands; his hands holding you tightly, never letting you fall.

And then you all land somewhere before the world darkens.

You can hear waves crashing into the shore and the smell of salt air fills your lungs.

You open your eyes slowly and let out a hiss as you feel pain everywhere.

Sprawled out and asleep on a chair in the corner of the room you see Draco and then your eyes land on Harry sleeping next to you.

You wake him up with a gentle nudge on his head and he smiles.

“What happened?” You ask.

He needs a few minutes to fully wake up and grasp the fact that you really are awake and alright.

“It was a bloody nightmare, but you’re awake now. I’ll go get Ron and Hermione. We have been taking turns watching you.” He says in a rush and gets up

“Wait, what is he doing here?” You asked

“He helped, hasn’t left your side since, didn’t bother with his injury without healing you first.”, Harry said not amused at first but then a sincere look painted his face.

“You have a lot of explaining to do” he warned “but later”

You just watched him exit the room and tried to process what he had just said to you.

“Potter is always loud then”, said Draco sarcastically and his voice made you jump a little. “Sorry.”

You couldn’t say anything back to him, you couldn’t even believe he was there.

He stood up and made slow strides to get close to you, until he reached your bed and sat at the spot near your feet.

You saw then the injury Harry was talking about, he had bandages starting from his shoulder tightly wrapped around it and ending down to his chest.

“What happened?” You say softly and point at the white bandages.

He let out a laugh at that “Unbelievable.” He exclaimed.

“What” you said annoyed, your eyebrows raised in a funny way that reminds him of arguments in classes and loud corridors.

“It’s” he stammered “You” and as he stared at your face with a look filled with adoration he said “Nothing.”

He swallowed loudly and explained with an amused look on his face “Got stabbed with a knife, by lovely aunty Bella.”, he pointed at the spot under his shoulder, close to his heart.

And then you remember the Manor, his aunt; Bellatrix and the questions.

Your face darkened at that and your body started shaking lightly- you hadn’t realized until you felt Draco’s hand on your shoulder rubbing lightly “You are okay, we are safe here.”

“We?” You asked and felt tears running down your cheeks “How- why are you here? What have you done?”

He smiled at you and replied “You said so yourself. I protect the ones I love.”

“I just wish I was better at it. Fix my timing and all.” He joked at the end

You really started crying then and felt him getting closer “I am sorry I didn’t do anything sooner, I should have stopped her. I am sorry.”

You felt yourself staining his shirt with your tears but couldn’t bring yourself to stop or talk; couldn’t say anything to comfort him. So you only shook your head it’s fine now, you are here.

You felt his tears falling on your head and held him closer.

The past didn't matter right now; your friends reaction could wait and the War would be won, you were sure of it.

Now, you would figure it out together; just like before.

bonus:

-So, how much longer do we have to stand here and watch- that?

-As long as we have to Ronald, be quiet now!

fin

So, um as usual I am deeply sorry for any mistakes!

Also, this was very out of my comfort zone and I am not mad about it at all, I just hope it lives up to your expectations a tiny bit and I also hope you enjoyed it.

Till next time

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy angst

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