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#I think it was Snapes ghost
gotoemopunk · 4 days
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Don't give the phone to an absent-minded wizard who can barely think when his loved one is around. This will lead to disaster!
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Text:
Harry: *goes live, messes with the camera, says something, points the camera at Draco*
- We're finally going on a date and you're here reading...
Replies:
Pansy: ????
Blaise: Congrats. Finally.
Pansy: You're dating?????
Ron: Harry, you're live.....
Hermione: What book is he reading?
Pansy: DRACO WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD ME
Ron: Mum called me because Bill called her and asked if it's true. Harry what have you done...
Luna: Oh, this is simply splendid, Harry. Your wrackspurts are a perfect match.
Dumbledore's ghost: Harry, what wonderful news! I'll drink my favorite tea and candy to celebrate. Always happy to have you as my guests.
Pansy: Dumby's here???
Pansy: Sorry, professor, I didn't mean you.
Blaise: Lol.
Seamus: WHAT'S HAPPENNING IN HERE
Ron: Harry confused a story with a live broadcast...
Pansy: Harry came out of the closet.
Seamus: Closet? They seem to be outdoors. Are you talking about the clothes?
Pansy: Nevermind.
Snape's ghost: Unfathomable.
___
(Aaaand i know you want this one)
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Oh, and I have no idea how to work the broadcast, so sorry if it doesn't look believable enough
284 notes · View notes
dilf-lover99 · 1 year
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Playing Pretend | J.P.
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Pairing: James Potter x Female Gryffindor!Reader
Summary: When Reader's best friend James requests her assistance capturing the attention of Lily Evans, the two decide to make some changes to their relationship. Sort of.
Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers / fake dating (two superior tropes), not much of a slow burn (sorry guys), a healthy amount of pining, maybe a teeny bit of angst if you squint, a kiss, i think that's it this is like the softest thing i've ever written
Word Count: 5.1k
a/n: i'm sorryyyyyy !!! i'm sorry i ghosted you, i promise it was an accident ! i've been working a TON lately, but i finally found a bit of time to write and i missed it so much. i hope this was worth the wait ! let me know what you think. p.s. love u lots<3
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There were three things in life of which you were certain.
The first is that, no matter how skeptical one may be, the sorting hat irrefutably knows best. Being sorted into Gryffindor on your first day at Hogwarts was the greatest thing that ever happened to you, it introduced you to the friends who became your family.
The second is that you will never, swear on Merlin’s beard, read a book you’ve borrowed from Remus in the bath; Some lessons are best learned after making mistakes.
The third, and most important, is as follows : James Fleamont Potter is, and always will be, your very best friend.
You’re confident that there’s nearly nothing in the world the two of you wouldn’t do for each other if asked.
James has always been there for you in times of need, with a comforting embrace or a ludicrously ill-advised joke. He always talks out your problems with you, agreeing with your side of the situation even when you think you’re in the wrong.
There’s not a single problem the two of you haven’t been able to overcome together.
You’ve also spent countless waking hours of your life pretending to hold a flicker of interest in the precise mixture of colours in Lily Evans’ eyes, the scent of her hair, or wether or not she laughed at James’ joke that day.
The price of friendship, you suppose.
“This is the year, (y/n), I can feel it!” Your bespectacled best friend announces from his position sprawled across your bed on his stomach.
You withhold the good-natured urge to roll your eyes, exhaling an small breath through your nose with a smile, “You say that every year, James.” Ceasing the previous circles you were spinning in your desk chair, you make eye contact with James and continue, “Though I admire your persistence, perhaps it’s time to give it a rest? Maybe take up another hobby? Clearly quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough to leave Evans be.”
“Ha Ha.” James grumbles sarcastically. The two of you have conversations like this regularly, though your attempts to divert his interests have consistently proven futile. “It’s different this year. I’m different this year. I’m trying something new,” He slowly pulls himself up from his relaxed position, now sitting at the edge of the bed to face you directly, “If you agree to my plan, that is.”
“Well, that depends,” You hesitate, eyeing your best friend suspiciously. Over the course of your friendship you’ve always had a difficult time saying no to James, which has gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble.
“Is there any part of this plan that could result in our expulsion? Or worse- Will my hands be stained again? It took me weeks to get the dye off my fingers after your last so called plan.” 
Without recounting each and every detail, James’ last plan involved the two of you, a pint of florescent pink hair dye, and the head of an unsuspecting Severus Snape, and resulted in semi-permanent dye-stained hands and a rather stern talking-to from Dumbledore.
James laughs mirthfully at the memory, “Come on, people loved that! We loved that!”
“Yes, we did.” You agree with a grin despite yourself.
James throws a wink your way, shaking his head amusedly before speaking again, “No, this’ll be nothing like that. Entirely free of repercussions, I swear it.” His tone resembles that of when he’s asking you for a favour, and judging by the way he’s dancing around the words, you have a feeling you’re not going to welcome his idea with open arms.
“Alright, Potter. Out with it, will you?” You voice lightly, “It can’t be worse than any other plan you’ve had.”
“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” He rushes out, the shadow of a blush forming evenly across his pale cheeks at his own words.
“O-kay,” You draw out, eyes wide, “Perhaps I was wrong.”
“I know it sounds mad, but hear me out.” He starts quickly, “I was talking to Pads about it and he was all ‘Maybe if you weren’t so available all the time, she’d actually want you around’” He lowers his voice an octave, a dramatized attempt at impersonating your shared friend, “And I know what you’re going to say, ‘Why would you take relationship advice from Sirius of all people’” His voice raises higher now as he butchers an impression of your own, “But he had a point! And I thought, well, I wouldn’t be available if I had a girlfriend, would I?” 
You’re unsure if you should interrupt him or not, equal parts amusement and disapproval swirl around in your brain as he speaks.
“But I couldn’t do that to a real girl, y’know?” If he notices the icy glare you shoot his way at this, he does a bang-up job pretending he doesn’t, “Just string her about whilst I’m in love with Evans- But I could pretend! And who better to pretend with than my own best girl?” He finishes with a smile so sweet you almost forget the preposterous nonsense he’s just spouted.
Almost.
“There are about ten things wrong with what you’ve just said- Eleven if you count that horrible impression of me! Merlin, James, do I really sound like that to you?” James chuckles at you, running his lithe fingers through the charming mess of his curls.
“Don’t answer that.” You speak before he has a chance to reply, abandoning your chair in favour of standing in front of him.
“You really have gone mad, haven’t you? What exactly do you think is going to happen? She’ll see us together and be overcome with jealousy? Leaving her no choice but to confess her undying love for you?” You highlight the absurdity of his proposition, poking fun with dramatic sighs and emphatic hand gestures.
“Well it sounds a bit nutty when you say it that way, with your sarcasm and the like, but yes. That’s what I’d like to happen.”
“It’s not going to happen, James.” You deadpan.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not how it works!” You state, humour and disbelief mingling together, “If she doesn’t want you now, why’d she want you after you get a girlfriend? And if she did, would that really be the type of girl you’d fancy anyhow? A boyfriend-wanter?” 
James chuckles amusedly, completely missing the nuance of your words, “Boyfriend-wanter?” He echoes teasingly.
You sigh emphatically, taking a seat on the bed beside your best friend, “You’ve lost the plot, mate.”
James’ previous contentment is no longer at the forefront of his emotions, instead there’s a vulnerable sincerity that tugs at your heart strings with all its might. “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but if there’s even a chance of it working, I just- I have to try, (y/n),” His warm hazel eyes are boring directly into your own with a distinct sense of desperation as he mutters a final, “Please?”
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“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, James.” Your voice wavers with nerves at the thought of walking hand-in-hand with James into the Great Hall where all your friends sit, blissfully unaware of the delusional plan James has concocted to win the affections of Lily Evans.
“Come on, (y/n), it won’t be so bad. You used to love holding my hand.” James jests with an irritatingly loveable grin, not-so-subtly referencing the ancient crush you harboured toward him in the beginning of your first year.
“Yes, very well, James. I had a crush on you when I was eleven. I also slept with a Beatles nightlight and cut the crusts off my toasts.” You’re starting to wonder how on earth you could’ve agreed to this when James grabs your hand, intertwining his slender fingers with your own and giving a gentle, reaffirming squeeze.
“Thank you for doing this. I know it’s barmy, truly, but it means everything that you’re willing to try.” His voice is softer than you’ve heard in a long time, and in the back of your mind you can’t help but think this is the boy you’d fancied all those years ago.
You squeeze his hand back assuringly, “I’d try anything for you.” You smile sincerely.
“Oh really? Should you have happened to change your mind about a certain prank involving-”
“Almost anything.” You interrupt with an amused roll of your eyes.
The two of you share another smile before turning toward the looming entryway to the Great Hall.
“Shall we, darling?” James emphasizes the final word teasingly.
“We’d best, before I change my mind, love.” You retort.
You’re familiar with the expression ‘so silent, you could hear a pin drop’ but you’ve never experienced anything of the sort. Until now, that is.
The moment you and James walk through the doors, all eyes are on the two of you. More specifically, all eyes are continuously moving from you, to James, to your intertwined hands, then back again.
In the two days since you agreed to James’ scheme, you’ve remained confident that it wouldn’t work, surely nobody would believe you went from best friends to being in a relationship overnight.
Your confidence was misplaced.
As the two of you walk closer to your usual spot at the Gryffindor table, your hand squeezes James’ tighter than you’d like to admit, painstakingly aware of just how many eyes are on you. You can hear the poorly concealed whisperings of each gossiping classmate you pass by, “Finally!” “See, I told you they were shagging.” “What does he see in her?” The latter may have stung just a bit.
“Alright?” James whispers close to your ear, fuelling another buzz of observations from your peers.
You nod your head perceptibly, a tad caught off guard from all the attention you’re receiving, “Yes, swell. You?”
“To be determined.” James tugs your hand gently, signalling you to stop walking as you’ve reached your destination at the Gryffindor table.
“Good morning.” You greet your friends with a smile in an effort to maintain normalcy. Taking your usual seat, Sirius is on your left and James sits to your right beside Remus. You promised James to keep the plan a secret from everyone, including your shared best friends, but with the way they’re looking at you now, you’re ready to spill your guts.
“Good morning? S’that it then?” Sirius starts incredulously, “The two of you leg it in here holding hands and we’re supposed to go about our day as normal?” 
“I think what he means to say,” Remus interjects, his tone soft, a welcome juxtaposition from Sirius’ brash one, “Is that this-” he gestures between you and James with a mild wave of his hand, “Is new. We hadn’t realized the two of you were… Romantically involved.” His statement ends as more of a question, a gentle probe to explain what’s going on.
You look to James, raising your brows questioningly as if to say you've created this plan, now you have to do the ground work.
He gets the message.
“It is a bit out of nowhere, isn’t it?” James smiles, not so subtly making eye contact with Lily, who’s sitting directly across the table, “We spent all these years as friends and never thought twice about it, um- But then…” He trails off, realizing he’s not half as good a liar as he’d hoped he was.
You close your eyes with a deep sigh, knowing it’s now your responsibility to make this believable.
James Potter and his bloody plans.
“It’s alright, James, love,” You speak up after he’s gone silent, “We can tell them.” He’s going to owe you for this, and you intend to cash in the favour for once, “I’ve fancied you as long as I’ve known you.”
Your friends are paying more attention to you now than they have to anything, ever, clinging onto your every word, “Bit embarrassing if I’m honest, cos’ you never really saw me that way.” 
You remember hearing once that the most believable lies stem from the truth, and though it was back in year one, and hardly went as deep as you’re leading on, this is a version of how you’d felt about James at one point in time.
You work hard to fight back a chuckle at the look of pity on Dorcas’s face as she takes in your words, “But, I guess after I finally stopped trying to get you to see me that way, that’s when you actually started to.” Now you’re just discussing the plan in plain sight, though your friends are drinking it up quicker than their pumpkin juice.
James squeezes your hand with a firm grip, as if to warn you not to say anything more and spoil his plan right in front of Lily.
But he’s also looking at you with a discernible note of gratitude in his eyes, never quite tiring of your knack for rescuing him in these situations.
“Yes, quite right, love, I’ve seen the light. Thank you all for tuning in, this concludes the interview portion of our breakfast. Now, over to Padfoot for the weather!” James voices deftly, eyes scanning Lily for any semblance of a negative reaction, and failing to hide his displeasure when all she offers in return is a bright smile and a soft “Congratulations, you two!”
That could’ve gone better.
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“Figures the first time I’ve a date to one of these things, he’s only going for another girl.” You voice to James in the other room as you struggle to reach the zip on the back of your dress. 
You’re joking, though it’s not lost on you that this is the only time someone’s asked you to be their date to a dance. But you aren’t inclined to waste the opportunity. You’ve picked out a lovely dress and your hair is behaving particularly graciously tonight.
“Come on, love, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of offers once our plan takes off. And tonight’s the night! I’ve a good feeling about it.” Ever the optimist, your best friend.
“Oh, bugger off!” You shout frustratedly after multiple unsuccessful attempts at zipping up.
“I wasn’t trying to upset you! I only meant-” James’ panicked tone brings an instant smile to your face, all previous traces of dissatisfaction long gone.
“Not you, James, my dress. I can’t get the bloody zip to go up!”
“Oh,” He chuckles minutely, “Well c’mere then, let me help.” 
It’s a proper cliche, you think to yourself. Like something you’d see in a cheesy romance film, when the girl walks down the staircase in a fancy dress, everything’s suddenly in slow motion, and the lad’s just standing there thinking how am I just now realizing how beautiful she is?
It’s a proper bloody cliche, yet it’s exactly how you feel as you walk into the room and see James standing there in his dance attire.
His crisp white dress shirt is clinging faultlessly to his chest and arms, the muscles he’s defined playing quidditch showcasing themselves quite proudly, the black fabric of his dress pants pulled taught against his thighs. His mop of dark curls sits charmingly atop his head, a perpetual vision of captivating chaos. His rounded glasses are resting perfectly on the bridge of his nose, shimmering hazel eyes blinking delicately from behind them.
How are you just now realizing how beautiful he is?
“(y/n)?” James’ voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you’re thankful beyond words that he can’t hear your thoughts.
“Yes?” You clear your throat, simultaneously attempting to clear your mind.
“Turn around, love, I’ll fix your zip.”
Right.
His nimble fingers make quick work, sliding the zip from the small of your back to the top of the dress, a subtle trail of gooseflesh makes itself at home along the skin that’s been gently grazed by his own.
“There we are. Go on then, give us a twirl.” James’ playful voice sounds, you oblige good-naturedly and give a quick spin.
“That’s a lovely dress. Is it new?” His eyes scan your frame appreciatively, not quite as lengthy as the tour your own eyes had taken upon him moments ago, but you feel your chest grow tighter at the thought that, just maybe, he could be having one of those cliche moments too.
“As a matter of fact it is,” Your smile grows as you think back to the day before, when Dorcas dragged you and a reluctant Marlene to Diagon Alley to buy your outfits for the dance, “It’s her first dance with a date! Not just a date, a boyfriend. We have to pick the perfect dress.” She was far more excited than you were, especially considering it isn’t a real date, but her enthusiasm had made it a day to remember. “If Dorcas were here, you’d have just made her entire week.”
“Do you know what Lily’s wearing?” 
Not an unexpected question in the slightest.
What is unexpected, however, is the pang in your chest at it.
That’s new.
“No, I don’t. Sorry. ” You say, not particularly sorry at all.
“Are you alright?” James’ voice is laced with confusion at your sudden shift in mood.
Curse your best friend for knowing you so well.
“Mhm. Shall we go?” You place a smile back on your lips, taking care not to let it fall this time.
“After you, your majesty.” James answers in his most posh voice, gesturing toward the door and lowering his head in a mock bow.
It’s not real.
When you first agreed to James’ plan, this thought brought you comfort, peace, even. It’s not real, thank heavens, and it will be over before you know it.
Why does the thought feel so violent now?
Why is it tearing at the seams of your mind with each of his gentle touches and crooked smiles?
Why are you so reluctant to let go of James’ arm when you arrive at the dance?
And why have you spent the last twenty minutes sitting here, watching James watch Lily, as an unwelcome sense of envy blooms in your chest?
Because you wish it was real.
“Oh, come on! That was proper funny!” Sirius’s voice sounds from beside you, pulling you away from your internal revelations.
When did he get here?
“Was it?” You question. Your words come across sarcastic, but that’s a farce, you’ve no idea what he said.
“Yes, it was actually. You were just too busy making eyes at Prongs to notice.” 
And when did he get so observant?
“I was not.” You lie.
“Right,” Sirius starts, not believing you for a moment, “This is my life now, is it? My best mates’ll be too busy snogging to laugh at my jokes? What a cruel fate. Worse than death, really. Just put me out of my misery now.” He throws himself back into his chair melodramatically, posture now resembling a sickly figure in an old victorian painting.
What a drama queen.
Still, you feel the need to reassure him. Cutting off his theatrics, you place your hand on his bicep, giving a tender squeeze of affirmation, “Leave it out! I could never be too busy for you,” He straightens at that, lips lifting into a grin as you continue, “You just have to tell funnier jokes.” His grin disappears faster than it formed.
“Cheeky!”
You continue bantering back and forth, resulting in a fit of laughter that finally breaks James’ gaze from Lily. 
He focuses his attention on the two of you, unwilling to acknowledge the feeling blossoming in his chest when he sees your hand on Sirius, a brilliant smile having overtaken your face.
“Care to dance, love?” James questions, faster than you have time to process.
You remove your hand from Sirius’ arm, sparing a glance toward Lily. He’s trying to make her jealous, that’s why you’re here after all. But she’s not looking at you and James. In fact, she’s looking in another direction entirely.
“I’m alright mate, thanks. Take (y/n), though.” Sirius quips, ushering you onto your feet.
James guides you to the dance floor with a gentle hand on the small of your back, spinning you in a half circle to hold you properly once you’ve reached your destination.
Your heart is beating at an accelerated pace but you’re doing your damndest to hide it. “Is she looking?” You question softly, hiding any dejection from your voice.
“What’s that?” James asks.
You wonder how he didn’t hear you, his eyes having been glued to you since you started dancing. You were beginning to wonder if you had something on your face.
“Lily,” You start again, “Is she watching us?” You don’t know why you ask again, you’re not sure you want to know the answer.
“Oh. Yes-” James clears his throat, “Yeah, she’s looking.” 
Right.
His eyes never actually waver from your own. He doesn’t do much to pretend that he’s spotted her in the crowd or discerned wether she was looking or not. To be honest, he’d forgotten about the plan for a moment.
The song ends but before you can move from James’ hold he pulls you closer, “We should keep dancing.” He mumbles, then continues, almost as an afterthought, “Y’know, make it look more realistic.” 
But he couldn’t care less about that right now, he’s simply not ready for you to leave his arms.
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It’s been six weeks since the plan started, an entire month and a half of pretending.
And you don’t think you can pretend any more.
Pretending to be James’ girlfriend isn’t the hard part. In fact, it’s the best part. Countless days of holding his hand in the Great Hall and resting your head upon his shoulder in the Gryffindor common room. Those moments are purely blissful.
Pretending that your feelings for James aren’t real? That’s the hard part.
In the beginning, James had started calling you love or darling for show, a way for you to appear more like a real couple. He must have grown accustomed to it, because they’re all he seems to use anymore, even when nobody else is around.
And your heart still skips a beat each and every time you hear it.
Somehow, it’s become routine for you to do your homework while watching his quidditch practices, despite the fact that Lily has only ever seen you there once. You tried explaining this but all James had said was “That’s alright, having you here helps me play better.”
Now you attend every practice.
You don’t know how to respond when your friends tell you how happy they are that you and James have gotten together, that they can tell how deeply you care for him. They’re right, partially anyway, you do care for James deeply.
But you’re not together. Not for real, anyway.
And it’s driving you mad.
Which is why you’ve decided that it has to end.
You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, ever since the night of the dance, when you realized you wanted more. But you weren’t sure what to tell James.
If you tell him the truth, that you’ve fallen for him, it could end your friendship, which is a chance you’re not willing to take. But you’ve also never been good at lying to him, he knows you far too well.
You’ve finally decided on a good old-fashioned half-truth.
You’re going to tell him that the plan hasn’t been working, that if he wants to get Lily’s attention he’ll have to go about it another way. Spending another year watching him pine over Lily won’t be easy, but it can’t be any harder than this; Seeing what a wonderful boyfriend James would be, being so close to the boy you want but never truly being able to have him.
The soft click of your door notifies you of James’ arrival. Taking a final deep breath, you find your eyes meeting his own, willing yourself not to get lost in them and lose your resolve.
“Hello, love. How was your day?” James questions earnestly, taking a seat in your desk chair, his eyes hold an undetectable glimmer of adoration as they take in your figure.
“I think we should break up!” You rush out at once, afraid if you wait another second you’ll chicken out again.
James’ eyebrows pull together in a wistful display of despondence, “What? Why?” His voice is rather melancholy and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being broken up with for real. 
You sigh dispiritedly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed as you face James.
“Think about it. The plan isn’t exactly working, is it? I mean, when was the last time you even talked to Lily?” 
James is quick to defend, “We’ve just spoken yesterday! In the common room, remember? When you and Moony were talking about that smarty-pants book, she was all ‘your girlfriend’s too good for you, potter’, and I told her she was right. Surely you remember that?”
You fight back a smile at the memory, of course you remember that, you think of his words about as often as you breathe.
“James that was last week.”
He stops for a moment, counting the days on his fingers before deciding you're correct, “Okay… Alright, well, that doesn’t mean we should break up! We’ll just- We just have to try harder.”
You shake your head in opposition, but he speaks again before you have the chance.
“We can make it work, I know it.” James’ voice holds a perceptible air of desperation.
He knows you’re not really dating, right?
“Come on, James, it’s for the best. Surely you’re tired of me by now.” You joke, trying to appear unaffected by the nuance of your words.
“No.” James voices immediately, sounding as though he’s offended at the very idea of it, “I’m not tired of you. I could never be tired of you.”
“Have you any idea how much harder you’re making this?” You mumble under your breath, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unheard by James.
He’s looking at you softly, almost tenderly and he lowers his voice a bit, no longer on edge, “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Try again.” James tilts his head, pushing his glasses up when they attempt to slide from the bridge of his nose.
“I just don’t think we should do it anymore, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” He knows very well that’s not all. He can tell by the way you’re avoiding eye contact that there’s more to it.
“Yep! So what do you say, friends?” You finally chance eye contact, holding your hand out to shake his own in an effort to regain control of the situation.
His hand grabs your own and holds it delicately.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“Nothing! I’m saying plenty of things. Loads of things. Things, things, things!”
“(y/n).” He states plainly, though he’s unable to hide the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, “If there’s something going on, you can tell me. We can tell each other anything.” He’s pleading with you now.
And you aren’t sure if it’s his words, or the way he speaks them, or the fact that his hand is still grasping your own, but you’re unable to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth.
“I can’t keep pretending, alright? You’re driving me mad.” Both of your eyes widen at your confession, and James takes his hand back smoothly.
“Oh,” He clears his throat, a teasing undertone returning to his voice, though you can discern a hint of sadness in his eyes, “It’s you who’s tired of me then, innit?”
“What? No! That’s not-” You sigh frustratedly, standing from the bed and beginning to pace a small path back and forth on the floor, “James, if it were possible for me to be tired of you, it would’ve happened a long time ago.”
He breathes out a chuckle at this, visibly relaxing once he realizes he must’ve misunderstood.
You stop pacing, looking at James as he stands up in front of you.
“Can we start this whole thing over? It’s gotten a bit confusing if I’m honest.” You question.
“No, it’s okay. You were right, it’s best we call it off now.” James starts, adding quietly, “Before anyone gets hurt.”
Your gaze snaps up to his own, confusion etched upon your features, “Why- Why would anyone get hurt?” You swallow thickly, ignoring the sudden uptick of your pulse.
James sighs, bringing a hand up and running it through his curls, “Because it’s true. What you said before, about the plan not working. It’s not. And If I’m being honest, I couldn’t care less. I haven’t given a thought to the plan, or Lily, in weeks.” 
You know he can’t mean it the way it sounds, he can’t mean it the way you want him to mean it. But your heartbeat is racing rampant at the possibility that he does.
“And it’s why I don’t want to end things,” He continues, “Because, the way I see it, if something makes you sad when it’s ending, it must’ve been pretty wonderful while it was happening.” He’s rambling, but the contents of his words, and the fact that they’re directed at you, makes you want him to go on forever.
“You’re my best friend, and you always will be, I swear it! But, I just… I can’t help but want more.”
You’ve heard enough.
Well actually, you could never hear enough, but you’ve heard enough to propel yourself forward, urgently pressing your lips to James’ own.
He wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t waste a moment once he realizes what’s happening. 
James places his calloused hands on either of your cheeks, gently pulling you closer to himself. He smiles slightly into the kiss when you bring one of your own hands up to the nape of his neck and run your fingers softy through the curls there.
The kiss feels as though it’s lasted forever, and yet you never want it to end. But your lips part a fair distance as you rest your foreheads together in contentment, taking a moment to catch your breath.
“So that’s what you meant when you said I was driving you mad.” James teases, donning a grin so beautiful your heart could burst just from looking at it.
“Yes, I suppose it is.” You try to sound annoyed but you’re sure you’re missing the mark, wearing a blinding smile of your own.
“Well that settles it then,” James loops his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, “No more pretending.” His delicate lips meet your own once more in another intoxicating embrace.
Note to self : James Fleamont Potter’s plans don’t always end in disaster.
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realititrip · 1 year
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my Red Error AU for @dpauzine :D You can also check out the full zine here
The story in this AU follows Valerie after getting suit upgrade from Technus. Of course it's more than that and things start getting out of hand pretty quickly.
First it was the little things, barely noticable, but still there like studying becoming easier or her reaction time to attacks being faster. Valerie brushed it off.
This was going on for around 2 weeks without change until Phantom approached her after a fight where they had to team up to take down a more dangerous ghost. "Um Red? Your eyes glowed red for a second there and i wanted to ask if you were okay?" he said but Val just snaped at him to better mind his own business or else he'll be the one in her thermos next time she sees him. Phantom flew away then but the worry she saw in his eyes was stuck in her brain.
Valerie spent the rest of that night staring at the mirror in her bathroom looking for the red glow but never found it. Until a few days later when she woke up with sore eyes. Went to the mirror and saw red around the edges. It's fine it's FINE don't panic you'll figure it out girl.
After some thinking she figured new suit must be the source of the problem. Since it was fused with her body Val couldn't take it off, but it wasn't causing harm to anyone so she probably overused it or something that's why the red showed up.
And oh honey, you couldn't be more wrong.
Her vision changed. Those are definitely NOT the same eyes she had last week. The iris looks more mechanical, like there's something moving and shifting in it, like a robot or cyborgs, she thought. Everything is clearer, in higher quality, she can even zoom in and out if she so desieres. When she puts the suit on there's just /more/ of everything. Around the edges of her vision Valerie can see health statistics, ghosts in the area and other important information she needs. The familiar green eyes are gone, replaced with red.
The next change was her hair. Problem was they didn't look like hair anymore. Thick and think cables, any kind, running down her back. This really started freaking her out. This is where it started becoming too much and the situation she's in started sinking in. She needed help. But who even could do anything about it? Her dad would just worry even more, Phantom isn't an option, the best tech guy in town doesn't know she's Red Huntress and she's not going to change that.
So Valerie made a plan to wait for Technus to show up and catch him before Phantom. It surprised her the ghost was actually useful and explained what he could. Of course there was the threat that she'll destroy Technus if he won't but. Details.
Apparently her "hair" could be used to connect with any sort of device. She needs camera footage to check out ghost fight details? done. Wes talking about his phone freaking out because of ghost pictures? she can get that easily. The cables act like another pair of arms and do exactly what she wants.
Technus has a theory that the reason behind all of this was because he used too much of his powers on her. Since it was more than a normal human body could handle thus the changes.
He warned that there's a possibility she'll develop something similar to a ghosts core, the thing that stores all her power, the source of it. Since she's still human, Valerie thought it wouldn't happen, but fate seems to hate her, so here we are, with a triangle on her forehead that seems to be slowly growing in size every day. Honestly, it's not so bad, pretty easy to hide. The worst part about it is that if the core got damaged she must go to Technus for help.
But other than that, she's fine, for real this time.
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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months
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Serendipity
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chapter nine
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): mentions of drugging (love potion) and brief mentions of poisoning (like right at the end)
series masterlist; previous part; next part
The library is your sanctuary. A place you can go to ease your mind and satiate your need for more knowledge. Usually you're not disturbed while your here, but Mattheo seemed to find a new joy in persistently annoying you.
You had been completing an essay for Defence that Snape wanted to be completely for two days time, when the calm air around you changed with the announcement of his chaotic presence.
"I thought you had Quidditch practice." you say, not taking your eyes off of your parchment as he takes the empty seat beside you, thigh brushing your's.
"Finished ten minutes ago. I got bored." he says noncommittally. His hand has found it's way to your thigh, tracing barely-there patterns with the tips of his fingers. You tense on instinct before relaxing almost instantaneously.
"Don't you have friends for that?" you snark as you spare him a single glance before you continue working.
"I'm offended that you think we aren't friends, sweetheart." he says with feigned outrage.
"Friends don't do what we do, Matt." you whisper. If it weren't for his already close proximity, he probably would not have heard you. His hand begins tracing firmer patterns, tracing longing lines of comfort.
"No, I suppose they don't." he muses with the ghost of a smile. He's tracing your figure with inquisitive eyes, now a honeyed brown in the sunlight reflecting in the windows.
"Do you want something?" you ask, turning your head to face him, your breath hitching in your throat at just how close he was to you – his lips a fraction of movement away from your's. "We're in public," you say, with a breatheless stammer.
"I'm starting to find that I don't care where we are, anymore." he says just as quietly, eyes flickering between your mouth and fluttering eyes. "What have you done to me?"
"I haven't done anything." you snicker, your nose brushing imperceptibly against his, gaze landing intently on his plush lips.
"We're lucky your favoured spot is so closed off between the shelves, Meadow." he mumbles, his voice dropping to that low rasp you've come to appreciate over the months. "Because that means I can do this, with little consequence."
He kisses you then. Hard and passionate and with entirely too much feeling for something that wasn't supposed to be anymore than a transactional friendship to help out a mutual friend.
~∞~
Much to your delight, Mattheo stayed with you a little longer before the feeling of his quidditch gear, still dirtied from practice, became too much to comfortably bare. He left with a lingering peck to your cheek, something entirely too affectionate for you to properly process.
Not ten minutes later, your solitude was once again interrupted.
"What the hell is going on between you and Riddle?" Ginny's hissing whisper filled the quiet atmosphere, who landed in Mattheo's previously occupied seat with venomous grace.
"Nothing." you say with furrowed brows, lowing the book you were scouring for Siphon lore, to your lap. As far as you knew, Ginny was only aware of your tutor sessions with Mattheo.
But all these weeks of lies and deceit was bound to blow up in your face sooner or later, you just weren't planning on the most ferocious of your friends to figure it out first.
"Don't bullshit me." she snapped, keeping her voice low. "The tutoring sessions? The continued trips to the Room of Requirement? It's so bloody obvious, Meadow."
"I swear. Nothing is going on between me and Riddle." His name felt foreign on your tongue – he hadn't been 'Riddle' to you in months. Ginny only gave you a look that screamed her disbelief in you.
"Right and it wasn't him I saw leaving this little nook about ten minutes ago?"
"How's Dean?" you ask, swiftly averting the subject off of you. She sighs tiredly at your denial and relaxes into the cosy sofa, a contemplative look on her freckled face.
"I think we're over. The relationship is done and dead. We weren't compatible at all." she sounds resolute, but you could tell that she felt the pain of heartbreak. She leans her head on your shoulder and accepts the hug that you wrap her in. "I just wanted to feel something. I've pined for Harry for practically six years but-"
"I know. I know." you comfort her, quietly soothing her as she leans further into your embrace. Ron's younger sister had been a stellar part of your life for as long as you could remember. Her infatuation with your best friend was what prompted a friendship – at first she had been jealous of the attention Harry gave to you but when you confessed that you had a crush on a fellow Ravenclaw, she admitted to liking Harry and you sought to help her in any way you could. Of course the one thing you couldn't remedy was Harry's blatent obliviousness to his surroundings.
"I wouldn't be angry if there was something going on between you and Riddle, by the way." you hear her mumble into your neck. Your eyes involuntarily close with guilt.
You needed to tell someone you could trust in your circle of friends. It had been knawing away at you all this time.
The guilt.
"If you trust Nott and Parkinson as much as you do, and you're willing to be in Riddle's presence, then I trust your judgement." she says, sitting up with red rimmed eyes to look at you. She squeezes the hand that isn't still wrapped around her and that's all it takes for your resolve to crumble.
"Promise you won't freak out." you mumble and she looks at you weirdly before she agrees. With a deep breath, you do what Mattheo had been teaching you, and wordlessly you enter Ginny's mind. You can see the moment she realises what you're doing, but she doesn't flinch away like you expect; she watches you in awe instead.
He's been teaching me to better control my Legillimens abilities. You tell her cautiously. You can feel her disbelief and her curiosity at your words so you continue speaking to her wordlessly.
I've been teaching myself since the end of fourth year when He returned. Theo found out during one of our first patrols last year and that's really how I became better friends with him and Pansy too. Now that- Now that you-know-who is back they- Theo told me that he was going to have Mattheo teach me to do it defensively and keep my mind locked from enemies. In return, I'm going to help them all.
"How are you going to do that?" she says, her whisper so quiet you could barely hear her.
"I don't know, Ginny." you sigh. "With Harry so suspicious of Malfoy, I don't know how I'll convince him that they're on our side."
"Fuck what he thinks." she says, squeezing your hand again. "What your doing could help not only the Order, but it could save them, too. Have you thought about going to Dumbledore?"
"I have but-" you pause, hesitant to share the most vital piece of information you know.
"But what? Is there something else?" she asks, her curious tone edging to something else.
"There is. But you must promise not to tell a soul. Only me and Matt– only me and Riddle know about it. But I think Dumbledore knows– and Remus was acting strange when I asked him for help about it over Christmas."
She motions you to carry on and you know she'll keep her promise because she practically screams it at you mentally.
"I'm a siphon." you say and when Ginny goes to speak you swiftly interrupt her. "I know it sounds bizarre but it's true. Remember when Katie was cursed? I somehow absorbed some of that dark magic and fainted as a result. Mattheo figured it out first and we've been using the tutor sessions as a rouse to research about it."
"Siphons are rare. I don't think I've heard anything other than bedtime stories my mum used to read us when we were little. They're folklore." she says, awed. You sigh and throw your head back against the top of the sofa and groan in frustration.
"We keep getting the same information over and over again. It's incredibly annoying." you admit and you snap your head up when Ginny begins snickering. "What?"
"And how do you alleviate that frustration, Meadow?" she smirks, "A tumble in the Come and Go Room? How scandalous!"
You gape at her, but that only makes her laugh harder; the distant sound of Madame Pince shushing the two of you doesnt help either. "For Rowena's sake Ginny! Stop laughing!" you say but her laughter is infectious and you can't help but join.
"Hey I don't blame you, he's far too attractive for his own good."
Tell me about it. You say with a grumble and she lets out a loud snort that promptly ends with the two of you being kicked out of the sanctuary of the library.
"Your secret is safe with me, Meadow. I promise."
Somehow, admitting your greatest secret to someone lifted a giant weight from your shoulders. Perhaps having someone like Ginny in your corner was a good thing.
~∞~
The Ravenclaw Tower holds an abundance of the best rooms in the whole castle; from the tall ceilings of the common room with constellations painted like glittering sparkles, to a miniature astronomy tower that over looked the Black Lake and the mountainous highlands that surround the castle grounds.
Or maybe you're just biased.
Your dorm room is another place of solace for you. It's a little different to the library, however. Your dorm is place where you find peace and serenity away from the troubles of schoolwork and the stress of keeping up with your friends' woes. Hardly ever are you disrupted once the door to your room is closed off to the outside world, only the occasional murmur of conversation from girls passes by to get to their dorms interrupts the quiet atmosphere.
You needed a break from everything. Harry had somehow managed to go from Professor Slughorn's favourite student to his most failured prodigy after asking him about Horcruxes as per Dumbledore's instruction; Hermione believed that the library had actually failed her when she (and you) had no such luck finding any information about them and Ron appeared to be so wrapped up in his relationship that you rarely saw him outside of lessons and meal times.
It was at times like this that you yearned for Mattheo's presence which scared you half to death. He had been attentive with you as of lately, no longer was he grueling and rough with his Legillimens lessons and he made an effort to help you search for books in the library to aid in your research for your siphon abilities. You hadn't told him about Ginny, but you had a feeling that he just knew somehow that she was now aware of the arrangement.
He had a knack for always knowing everything.
You did feel a little bad, since it was Ron's birthday and you always spent it (and each of your respective birthdays) with the Golden Trio. This year your friendships with them seemed distant and awkward, like the thread holding you altogether was strained and fraying. But when you got a frantic knock on your door to find Harry supporting the intoxicated redhead you call your best friend, you let them in with no hesitation.
"What the hell is wrong with him? Did he have too much to drink? It's not even gone lunchtime." you say frantically as you and Harry turn to watch Ron stare into space with starry eyes.
"The cauldron cakes," Harry muttered tiredly, scraping a hand through his unruly hair, "the ones from Romilda-"
"Romilda? Did you say Romilda, Harry? Where is she?" Ron turned his gaze to you, his eyes wide and unseeing. "Meadow! You're a girl. You must know her, can you introduce me? I love her."
"Merlin's beard." you say incredulously, mouth agape. "He ate the spiked chocolates, didn't he?"
Harry only nodded. "He ate them like ten minutes ago. I don't know what to do."
"Well you're the Potions master, Potter." you say with a grimaced smile and he only glares at you in response. You shake your head. "You'll have to take him to see Professor Slughorn or Madame Pomfrey for an antidote. Better to have someone who knows Potions inside-out to help."
"Okay. Okay yeah– good." Harry stutters as he drags Ron towards your door. "Are you coming?"
"Oh– no I'm doing some research. Or trying to, at least. Still not one mention of Horcruxes in anything I've read." you say as you stand at the threshold of your door. "But tell him I'm never letting him live this down once he's all cured."
An hour later, you eat your words as Ginny bursts into your room with tears streaking down her face. Because someone had poisoned her brother; if not for Harry's quick thinking, he would be dead.
~∞~
a little bit of a short chapter, mostly because its only a filler before shit kicks off 😃😃
more soft matty for you all xxx
taglist:
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serverusslaype · 6 months
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Shameless, pt. 8
Severus Snape x professor!reader fic
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Shameless Masterpost
omg hi guys.............
i'm so sorry for leaving it this long, i just literally could not write anything, my brain was absolutely fogged up - probably because i had covid unknowingly lmao. this is another long chapter so i hope this makes up for it! <3
thank you for reading and for all your kind messages and support, i appreciate you all so much. i know i say this constantly but i really mean it. stay safe and keep healthy, guys!! love you :')
let's get this train on the ROAD!!!
The summer of '93 was an interesting feat, to say the least. Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and you'd found yourself dating someone you never thought you would.
You had not expected yourself to be caught up in a whirlwind type of romance, especially not by someone you'd despised back in school. Yet, here you were, arm in arm with none other than school menace, Benjamin Bluewater. The two of you were currently strolling through Hogsmeade, wide smiles spread across your rosy-cheeked, cold faces. The snow crunched beneath your feet as Ben wrapped an affectionate arm around your waist, pulling you close against him. You failed horribly at trying to hide the bashful smile that picked at the corners of your shivering lips.
"I'm gonna miss seeing you every other day." Ben said, giving you a squeeze.
"Yeah," you hummed happily, glancing up, "this summer has been very..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words. Ben glanced down at you, a lazy half-smile reaching his lips.
"Unexpected?" He chuckled, finishing your sentence for you.
A grin broke out on your face and Ben leant down to plant a soft kiss against your smiling mouth. "Definitely." You replied against his lips, nodding softly, letting your eyes fall back to the powdery-white trail in front of you as he pulled away. "You can visit me if it gets too hard." You teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow. It'd only been a month and a bit of seeing Ben, but he really had you hooked. Each time you saw him, the agonising thought of you and Snape melted away from your mind a little bit more. You felt like you'd finally got control - he was no longer dictating how you felt. However, you did feel a tad bit guilty. At times it felt like you were using Ben to get over the broody Potions Master. You didn't dare tell him about it either, you were pretty sure that he wouldn't take it well - in fact, you were certain he wouldn't. How would he believe that you'd fallen for the man that used to cause the pair of you grief in school? For starters, he used to be your teacher all those years ago, and secondly, in Ben's mind, he considered Snape an ugly old git.
"I think you'll be the first to crack, Y/N." Ben nudged you back, prompting a playful scoff to fall from your mouth. Ben's lips broke into a grin, pleased with your reaction.
"As if," You choked. "Wait, who was it again that turned up at my door the day after our first date? Oh yeah, you." You scrunched your nose up at him and poked out your tongue, though, your attention was soon hooked by the flash of what looked like a figure dressed in all-black. Your breath caught in your throat as your head snapped to the left, eyes flicking desperately between the forest of pine trees, searching  for what you thought you had seen. Ben picked up on your change in behaviour almost immediately.
It couldn't be, you thought, heart suddenly beginning to race.
"You okay?" His bushy brows furrowed at your unusual skittish demeanour, clearly worried about you. Ben's alarmed voice did not compute in your head. "Hey," His hand slipped from your arm and fell to your wrist, tugging it at it to pull you from your thoughts, inducing a soft gasp from you as you spun on your heel to face Ben. It looked as if you had just seen a ghost of some sort.
"What?" You questioned softly, blinking. Ben stared at you.
"You look like you've just seen a ghost, Y/N." He said, concerned. You swallowed and wet your lips, looking down at the ground as he brushed his thumb tenderly against your wrist.
"I'm alright." You looked back up at Ben, placing a forced smile upon your lips. He didn't seem convinced, though he didn't press you. He gave you the benefit of the doubt. "Just, err, just a little on edge, you know with, erm, the whole Sirius Black thing." You lied, a nervous chuckle leaving your throat.
"I don't think the mass murderer known as Sirius Black would bother himself with a place such as Hogsmeade, Y/N." Ben smiled, almost amusedly at you. You stayed silent, not sure what to say. Ben let his blue eyes to flick between yours, almost like he was attempting to read your mind. You broke the connection and glanced away, an uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. Ben sighed gently and looked ahead of the two of you. The town of Hogsmeade was settled in the distance, shrouded in a cloudy mist. An idea popped in his mind. "Would a tea or a hot beverage of some sort make you feel a little better?"
"Um, yes, I could go for a tea." You nodded lightly, looking back to Ben. A small smile graced his features as he let his warm hand slip into yours. The corners of your lips tugged upwards a little. Ben felt at ease once more as your pretty face was lit up with that bright smile of yours. He couldn't resist placing another sweet kiss upon your lips.
"Alright. Let's go, I know just the place."
You laid on your bed in your quarters at Hogwarts, the pale sunlight peeking through your curtains was slowly ceasing as the evening began to set in. Your mind was constantly reeling back to yesterday afternoon. You continuously replayed the memory of the flash of black in your mind, attempting to put a name to what it was. A sigh of frustration left your lips, leading into a groan. You refused to acknowledge who you thought it was. There was just no way.
All those feelings and thoughts that you'd buried and hidden away with the idea of Ben started to creep back out of it's cage and it frightened you. Perhaps it was foolish of you to think that you'd move on so quickly. A month and a bit was definitely not enough time to heal. Yes, you were unquestionably foolish to think that forty-three days was a satisfactory amount of time to rid yourself of the thought of someone you had been near almost every day for a year.
Whatever, you thought. It'll pass. It will... won't it?
Gods, now you were doubting yourself. You knew you still felt deeply for Snape, of course you did, you spent almost a whole year in his presence, but you thought dating someone else in the meantime would have solved some of that. Jesus, that's messed up. Were you just using Ben to get over Snape? This was so wrong on so many levels. You liked Ben, truly you did, but you always found yourself comparing him to Severus. The way he spoke, the way he moved... your mind was plagued with him, and you were an idiot to think that locking away the thought of Severus would do anything but help yourself. You did this to yourself, and now you deserved to deal with the consequences. You just had to act like your feelings for him didn't exist, maybe that would help. …Maybe it wouldn't, but that was the best idea you had right now.
You needed to clear your head, and badly. Your buzzing thoughts were starting to drown you. You quickly slipped out of your bed and headed out of your room, quietly shutting the door behind you. Just as you were about to turn around to walk down the hallway, a tall, shabby looking man stood in your way. He had light brown hair with flecks of grey in it, a fluffy moustache and a rather painful looking scar was scraped across the middle of his handsome face.
"Oh- hello," You said in surprise, confusion evident in your tone. The man smiled at you jovially, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He looked rather tired and pale. You tilted your head at him, furrowing your brows.
"I apologise for scaring you," The man pursed his lips as he attempted a light-hearted joke, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm Remus, err, Remus Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." He added, his eyebrows raising a tad.
"Oh, yes, of course!" You instantly smiled, your cheeks turning a little red out of embarrassment. Lupin found it rather endearing. You scolded yourself for forgetting soemthing so important - Dumbledore had mentioned this the day before you left for Summer break. "I'm so sorry, it had totally slipped my mind. My name is Y/N L/N," Your smile widened as you held out a friendly hand for him to shake. "I'm the professor of Herbology here at Hogwarts."
"Ah," He nodded, returning your smile and shaking your hand. His grip was firm. "Lovely to meet you. I hope we get along well, Professor L/N." Remus said trustingly, his hands returning to his pockets. You clasped yours together, resting them against your hips out of habit.
"I'm sure we will, and please, call me Y/N." You grinned. Remus gave you a curt nod. "Is this your first day here?"
"Teaching yes, but in regards to having been here before? No." He replied.
"Oh?"
"I attended Hogwarts as a small boy, so it's a little nostalgic walking round the place again." Remus explained, earning a surprised look from you.
"It seems as though every single teacher here also used to be a student here." You laughed lightly, inducing an amused smile from the new professor.
"It seems that way, yes." Remus nodded.
"Well, I hope to see you around, Remus." You smiled politely at him, noticing the way he slumped slightly in posture, almost like he was trying to hide himself. Remus returned your smile and dismissed you with a nod, continuing past you with a slow gait. You let yourself think for a moment. Those scars looked pretty horrific, they looked rather... deep. A grimace twisted your facial features as your mind raced with quite gruesome and morbid theories on how Lupin had acquired those wounds. You shook your head rather vigorously as if to relieve your mind of the grisly images that were popping in and out of it.
The hallways and corridors of Hogwarts were peacefully empty once again. Students, old and new, were still back at home preparing for the next school year that began in just a couple days. Goosebumps erupted on your body out of anticipation as you thought about what the year could hold - though, you were mainly excited to get back to teaching your beloved subject. In fact, you'd missed it a lot over the summer. More than you expected to, despite the distraction called Ben.
A tiny smile flickered on your lips at the thought of him, your eyes glued to the floor in front of you as your feet carried you forwards, a cool chill wrapping itself around your bare shoulders. You were wearing a thick-ish, buttercup-yellow night dress; the sleeves reached your wrists, but it was a little baggy up top, causing the wide neckline to slip partially off your shoulder. The chill made you quickly pull it up with your fingers, enveloping yourself with your arms.
Bumping into Professor Lupin outside your room had caught you off-guard. The thought of grabbing a coat of some sort had slipped from your mind the second your curious and confused eyes fell onto him. You shivered slightly, cursing yourself for being so forgetful sometimes. It might have been late August, but Scotland's freezing climate left no survivors.
"Did you not think it unwise to go around strolling in such... poorly thought out attire, Professor L/N? It is almost as cold as the arctic." That deep voice that had caused you so much grief and heartache shot through your head like a stray bullet. You froze in your position, your breath hitching as you refused to turn around to acknowledge the man that spoke with such articulated words it seemed laughable. You felt like you couldn't move. Like you were in a glue trap, like a little mouse.
Eventually, you thawed. "I'm not cold." You replied shortly, reluctantly turning around to face Snape. Your heart instantly sped into a gallop as your eyes fell onto his tall, brooding figure. Then and there, thought of Ben entered your mind as you stared at the Potions Master, immediately comparing the two. You knew Ben didn't make your heart race like he did. Your shoulders suddenly slumped with guilt. You shouldn't be thinking any of this. Ben was good for you, he treated you with kindness and respect, and most of all, he actually liked you.
"Your trembling figure says otherwise." Snape tilted his head at you, scrutinising you. Right then you wanted to shrink down into nothingness. You couldn't bear to feel so vulnerable underneath his eyes. Somehow, Snape looked better than the last time you saw him. And you hated that. You were sure you looked utterly terrible right now.
"I'm fine." You said sternly, dragging out the syllables as you fought back the bitter glare that was itching to break out onto your face.
"Fine, hm..." Snape drawled, almost mocking and sarcastic, letting his dark eyes drop down your figure, studying your improper outfit. You hugged yourself tighter at the sight, cheeks suddenly burning as you felt rather self-conscious. His brows knitted together suddenly, like something had just clicked in his mind. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"
You hesitated. "I forgot to grab one." Snape's brow arched at you disapprovingly. You fought the urge to groan at him. "I bumped into the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, outside my door." You explained, tone flat. "It's not like you care whether I freeze to death or not anyway." You added, rather bitterly. Snape narrowed his eyes at you, glaring. He did care, but he would never show it. Not right now, at least.
"Lupin?" He repeated, ignoring your last comment as his jaw ticked out of irritation. You frowned at his odd reaction. "I suggest you stay away from him, Professor L/N. For your own..." Snape trailed off, pondering on his words as he let his eyes sweep over you in a patronising manner. "...good." He uttered, almost like a warning. You were completely and utterly confused. Why did Snape seem so unwelcoming towards Lupin, he'd just joined Hogwarts, unless there was... history between them? Was there?
"What's wrong with Remus?" You asked, eyes narrowing in curiosity and suspicion about his feelings regarding the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Snape's jaw clenched at the sound of Lupin's first name, almost like he flinched. "He seemed perfectly kind and pleasant earlier."
Snape didn't reply. A harsh, exasperated sigh fell through your nose as you rolled your eyes at the enigmatic man before you, growing tired of his games. Why did he always act so cryptic? What was the problem with telling you the truth? Would it be so bad?
Before you could protest and poke at his mind, Snape began to stalk away from you, prompting a curt scoff to leave your lips. Your teeth were gritted out of frustration as you stared at the back of his head. Christ, he really hadn't changed - he was still pissing you off at an almighty rate. At this point, it was impressive.
"Hey!" You exclaimed, forcing Snape to halt in his tracks. He turned his head to the left, silently encouraging you to continue. "Would you just answer me?"
"I don't owe you anything." Snape said rather coldly. You clenched your jaw rather angrily at his rude reply. Jesus, will this guy ever just bite the bullet for once and give in?
"When you tell me to 'avoid' Professor Lupin, I think that demands an explanation as to why I should, Snape," You said, shaking your head at him like he was daft. "You must be delusional to think otherwise!" That must have struck a nerve within the Potions Master, as he swiftly spun around, his cloak turning with him dramatically like a bat, making you shrink in regret. He stormed over to you, footsteps heavy and determined. You backed yourself up, a little unnerved by his sudden and intense approach towards you. Snape got right up in your face and you could feel his hot breath dance across your skin, sending anxious goosebumps down your spine. It felt like your heart was about to fall out of your chest from the high gear it had suddenly kicked into. 
How could- no, why was your body still reacting so fiercely to Snape? Weren't you meant to be focusing on Ben?
"Lupin is not who you think he is, Y/N." Snape warned, snapping you out of your thoughts. It nearly sounded like there was a hint of concern in his voice, like he was worried about you. You had to laugh at that, as if Snape - the man who had pretended like you didn't exist for half a year - cared for you. He'd never stoop to such a pathetic ideal. You brushed the hurtful lie under a dusty rug in your mind, averting your attention back to the pair of deep, obsidian-coloured eyes that sat mere inches away from your own.
"And how do you know that?" You challenged, a hint of venom in your voice as you mocked his serious tone. Snape sneered at you, leaning back from your face, like he was disgusted.
"Your ignorance is blinding." He replied bitterly, still refusing to explain anything to you. At this point he seemed like a child to you. From his the way he glared at you, and reeled back from your agitated little form, Snape seemed to be disappointed in you. You didn't think he had a leg to stand on with that idea.
And so, that was your last straw, you couldn't hold in your frustration anymore; it felt like all the pressure that had been building up beneath your skin was coming to a rise and it had finally burst at the seams. "Jesus, Snape!" You cried out, infuriated, your hands flying up to pull helplessly at your hair. "Why is it so hard for you to answer me?! Are you so incapable of that?!"
Snape seemed a little taken aback by your outburst as the ill feeling of deja vu began to seep into his bones. This felt a little too familiar: it reminded him of that night he found you drunk. Yet, right now, you were stone-cold sober, and still shouting the same things at him. In regards to your outburst, he truly hadn't seen it coming, and yet, he was almost always aware of how you were feeling. He could read you so easily. To him, you were like a book he'd read almost a thousand times. He remained quiet again, unsure of how to reply to your instantaneous combustion; a briefly-lived feeling of worry that he'd add more fuel to the fire.
He couldn't reveal the reason to you. He'd given Dumbledore his word that he would not speak of Lupin's condition. In fact, Snape had doubted Dumbledore's usually-wise judgement when he mentioned that he'd hired Lupin. The Potions Master thought the Headmaster had gone mad for openly inviting a werewolf into Hogwarts, let alone allowing him to teach classes full of children. And then, he'd found himself roped into producing the Wolfsbane potion so Lupin could keep his wretched condition of Lycanthropy at bay. Snape still doubted the whole idea. He knew it was doomed from the very beginning. Balancing the safety of Hogwarts on the constant, perfect production of a potion and the hope that Lupin was competent enough to remember to take it each day of the preceding week of a full moon?
Doomed, Snape thought.
Despite your best efforts of attempting to force the answer out of Snape, he knew you'd figure it out sooner or later once you noticed which ingredients he'd be borrowing from you. He had faith that you were smart enough to work it out. So, he stood straighter in front of you, wordlessly giving you his answer as he turned around to walk away from you.
No.
"A warm, warm welcome back to you all!" Dumbledore's raspy voice boomed through the Great Hall, the applause from students and staff alike to quickly quietening down. You were seated comfortably between McGonagall and Hagrid, and it felt awfully similar to last year. Just a year ago, you had no idea what you were strapping yourself in for. "Before we indulge ourselves in this delectable feast, I'd like to welcome Professor RJ Lupin, who will be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said, turning around to gesture to Lupin with eccentric, wrinkly hands. The professor stood up goofily with anxiously-clasped hands, giving a grateful nod to the Hall as they applauded him. He caught your eye, and you sent him an encouraging smile, ignoring Snape's distasteful face beside Lupin.
"Good luck, professor! Now, our teacher for the Care of Magical Creatures for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken than none other than our own, Rubeus Hagrid!" The Headmaster announced as he spun around to gesture to the half-man-half-giant sat happily beside you, a genial smile spreading across the Dumbledore's face. Applause and whoops erupted in the Hall once more as Hagrid gave a short nod and a cheerful smile to the hooting crowd. You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, prompting him to stand up, his large belly shoving the table forwards with a sharp screech; a handful of glass goblets falling over and smashing. McGonagall looked up at the newly-appointed professor rather disappointedly before eyes her goblet that now laid shattered before her.
"Finally, on a more describing note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will until further notice play host to the dementors of Azkaban, until such a time Sirius Black is captured." Dumbledore said, a stern and serious tone taking place of his usual reserved one. Gods, how could you have forgotten? Mass murderer Sirius Black was still on the loose. Apparently the thought of Snape was enough to distract you from a highly important news article. And now, one of the most feared creatures of the Wizarding World was going to be lingering around Hogwarts? This was not what you signed up for. Your teeth started to chew against the inside of your bottom lip anxiously.
"Will they be on the school grounds?" You whispered to Minerva beside you, failing miserably at trying to hide the shaky fear within your voice. She instantly looked at you, smiling softly. You'd always had a phobia of dementors, and now the fact that they were going to be lurking around the school had put you on edge. Merlin, can this year get any worse?
"I'm not sure, my dear." Minerva replied to you quietly, subtly noticing the fear swimming in your eyes. The older witch placed a hand upon yours in an attempt to soothe your anxiety. "There's nothing to worry about, I assure you." You merely nodded at her, unbelieving. Nothing to worry about, sure. It's not like some savage, minacious murderer is on the loose.
"The dementors willl be stationed at every entrance to the grounds." There goes your sanity. "Now, whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities, a word of caution: dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt, and the one who gets in their way." You hated the way that Dumbledore spoke of the dementors, and it hardly settled your trembling and anxious mind. No, in fact, it bloody well worsened it. The old man was basically saying if you get in their way, it's a death sentence. They have no sense to decide whether you're a threat or not, or they just don't care.
Either way, you were screwed. You could not produce a Patronus charm, let alone a corporeal one, and it was something that played on your mind a lot. You could never find the right memory to do so. Every happy memory you flicked through in your mind, it just wasn't happy enough. So, if you came into contact with a dementor, you were, let's say, royally fucked. Was your life that sad?
"Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you, give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving. But, you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light." The Headmaster finished with a cryptic riddle, making you sigh a little heavier than expected, catching an intrigued look from Hagrid. Sorry, but what the fuck does that even mean, Dumbledore? You were well aware that Dumbledore was undoubtedly an ingenious and powerful wizard, but sometimes, the things that came out of his mouth just sounded like nonsense. Maybe he just said those random things to keep up his mysterious act.
As you looked up from the nervous, fidgeting fingers in your lap, your eyes locked with that same pair of black, emotionless ones that were staring so deeply into yours just last night. Immediately, you looked away, your cheeks flushing red out of embarrassment, and perhaps, suppressed affection. There was that weighty feeling of guilt again, finding your shoulders once more. Ben's smiling face materialised in your mind as you shut your eyes, attempting to rid yourself of the buzzing feeling that Snape had awakened within you. With just one look into his eyes, you were melting back into your old ways.
You heard the creaking of a chair shift beside you as a gentle mass poked your side. "A'right down there?" Hagrid questioned quietly, noticing your subtle change in demeanour. You were suddenly stiff in your seat.
"Yeah, yeah, fine thanks, Hagrid." You cleared your throat, avoiding those two addicting pools of inky-black.
"Hmm." Hagrid hummed beside you, obviously skeptical about your curt response. He let his eyes flick to where you were previously looking, his stomach sinking as he spotted the broody cause of your sudden mood change. Hagrid didn't bother pressing you for answers, he knew you had enough on your plate, and he would rather you come to him. The last time you spoke about your problems regarding Snape, you were in tears, or you would burst into tears, there wasn't really an inbetween.
Silently, you were thankful that the newly-appointed professor beside you chose to keep shtum.
As you glanced back to where Snape sat, he was completely avoiding your eyes too, however, as you continued looking over in his direction, the wave of a hand beside the Potions Master caught your eye. Flicking your gaze to the right, you noticed it was Lupin waving sheepishly at you, a kind smile tugging at his scarred lips. You returned his smile and waved back, turning to the professors beside you as he glanced away from you.
"Professor Lupin seems to be a kind soul." You commented outloud, a genial smile upon your lips. McGonagall glanced at you, eyeing your curiously.
"Yes," She agreed slowly, her eyes gently dissecting you. "Have you met before?"
"No, I just bumped into him a couple nights ago, by my door."
"Yer' door?" Hagrid repeated in an octave higher than usual, intrigued.
"He just happened to be there when I walked out." You frowned, wide eyes looking up at the gigantic man, trying to understand what he was insinuating.
"Right, right." Hagrid quickly said, almost awkwardly as his cheeks reddened a tad, averting his eyes from your suspicious ones. Minerva's lips quirked into a small, amused smirk as she glanced between you and Hagrid. "Well, this food looks delicious, ay?" He cleared his throat, raising his brows as he glanced down at your plates that were now burdened with a generous amount of steaming hot meat and vegetables. You couldn't help but laugh softly to yourself at Hagrid's awkwardness. It was sweet to you.
Before you let yourself indulge in the plate full of food in front of you, you dared to look in the direction of a certain gloomy individual. Snape had already begun to eat, which surprised you. He usually takes a few bites and retires to his office, but this time, he'd stayed. You frowned to yourself as you stared at him, observing the glum way he kept to himself, avoiding any kind of conversation. Once more, you found yourself yearning for him. And yet again, your heart and mind were telling you two different things.
"Isn't that a Mimbulus Mimbletonia plant, professor?" Came Neville Longbottom's curious voice, his inquisitive eyes dragging over the plant you held cautiously in your arms. A cheery smile graced your lips as you nodded at the boy.
"Yes, indeed it is, Mr Longbottom." You said proudly, inducing a thrilled smile from Neville. "Can anyone tell me what it's uses are?" You asked, glancing around your greenhouse at mostly confused faces. You had an inkling that none of them would know the answer, perhaps apart from Hermione or Neville, who you noticed seemed to excel in Herbology. Though, Hermione wasn't in your class this morning. So to you, it was all down to Neville.
"Stinksap, right?" Neville answered quickly, his bunny-like teeth sticking out from underneath his top lip as he stared at you, awaiting your reply.
"Correct, and what can we use stinksap for?" You questioned, your smile widening at Neville. A sense of accomplishment suddenly tickled your body - maybe your students were listening to you and learning. You were a little worried that you hadn't exactly made an impact on them. As you got lost in your fretting thoughts, a light voice you weren't familiar with caught your attention. You turned towards the dark-haired girl, her deep blue eyes lighting up with confidence as she retrieved you from the abyss that you unfortunately called your mind.
"Stinksap can be used in certain potions as it contains very good healing properties," Alisa Arumina spoke up, earning a tilt of your head. You nodded at her, encouraging the girl to continue. "However, you have to be extra cautious when handling such a plant as this one since it will squirt out rather rancid smelling sap. Hence the name, stinksap." She finished, a sheepish smile upon her lips. You grinned proudly at her.
"Yes, lovely! Ten points to Ravenclaw, Miss Arumina." You carefully placed the plant down upon the table you were all gathered around. Before you could continue on to explain how to care for it, a distraught sounding voice called from behind you, at the door to your greenhouse.
"Professor L/N," Madam Pomfrey called out, her voice shaky. Immediately, you spun around with a worried frown upon your face. She sighed. "There's been an accident, do you have any mature Mandrakes ready for use? A Wiggenweld potion is required at once." Madam Pomfrey's eyes looked afraid. This must be serious, what the hell happened? You thought as your heart began to anxiously pick up in pace.
"Err," You stumbled over your words, blinking quickly. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll have them delivered to you immediately." You nodded in a poor attempt to assure the terrified look upon Madam Pomfrey's face. It didn't work.
"I'm afraid Professor Snape has asked for you to go to him right away." She said regretfully. Of course he fucking did, you groaned inwardly. 
"Is it so hard for you to come and retrieve the Mandrakes yourself?" You demanded as you burst through Snape's classroom door, your irked eyes finding Snape's startled ones. Though, just as quickly as he had looked startled by your sudden entry to his room, he had returned back to his usual angry glare, shooting it directly at you.
"Is it so hard for you to knock before entering?" Snape grunted at you, rubbing his fingers in circles against his temples. He lifted a hand and patted the empty space on his desk beside him. "Place the mandrakes here." You scrunched up your nose at him in disgust,
"I'll put them there once you tell me what the hell is going on."
"Your dear friend, Professor Rubeus Hagrid, thought it wise to introduce the children to a hippogriff on their first lesson together." Snape sneered as he rose from his desk in a slow and intimidating manner, his hands splayed out across the deeply grooved, dark wood surface. "I knew he was an oaf, but I at least thought he had retained some form ofhuman intelligence. Perhaps even common sense!" He exclaimed, his brows glued together in fury. Your brows mirrored his own as he insulted your friend. "A student was injured, Professor L/N, a student of my house." Ah, so that's why he's so upset. "Draco Malfoy." Riiight, it's adding up now, you thought, your anger simmering down slightly at the utterance of a student being injured.
You knew Hagrid wasn't incompetent, he was smart enough to not put students in the way of danger, but maybe this was a very big mistake. Perhaps he was too... eager. A hippogriff is a highly dangerous animal, especially if the students are not taught how to approach one beforehand. A strained sigh left your nostrils as you clenched your jaw, averting your eyes from a fuming Snape.
"Is he alright?" You asked, hesitating. "Hopefully he didn't lose a limb..." You muttered whilst perching yourself down upon a stool to your right.
"By the grace of the gods, Malfoy's arm was merely scratched," Snape seethed, clearly still very angry. Maybe it'd be best if you just left now, you did leave your class unsupervised for this visit. The thought of being a hypocrite niggled at your mind as you thought back to the time you'd chastised Lockhart for doing the same thing. But, this wasn't the same thing right? This was urgent, his was... whatever, you're better than that babbling, bumbling baboon anyway.
"So, it wasn't even a big injury...?" You repeated, frowning. "A little... scratch and you're almost losing your hair over it?"
"I think you're missing the point, Professor L/N, as always," Snape scoffed at you, earning a resentful glare from your eyes. "Hagrid has proved himself to be incapable of handling a class safely. I mean, a student injured and sent to the hospital on the very first lesson? Seems like a bad omen, if I do say so myself."
"Oh, please, Snape," A frustrated, heavy sigh left your nostrils again as you glanced to the side. "It's his first day!" You laughed incredulously, defending your friend. Sure, Hagrid might have misjudged this lesson by a smidge, however, you knew he would never put students in harms way.
"His first day, and his incompetency has resulted in injury!" Snape replied bitterly. He clearly didn't like Hagrid, and it was very obvious. He only ever spoke bad about the man, and it angered you. Hagrid was more than just an... 'oaf'. "Those... beasts... should have never been allowed at Hogwarts, regardless." Snape's nose crinkled in disgust.
"Give him the benefit of the doubt!" You cried out at Snape hopelessly. "And Buckbeak is a perfectly good hippogriff, you have no idea what you're talking about."
"How would you know that?" Snape's lips curled up into a distasteful sneer once again. Your cheeks ran hot as rage boiled beneath them at his comment.
"Because I know Buckbeak, Snape," You seethed at him with your fists balled, "Buckbeak would never do such a thing unless he felt threatened or insulted!" A hand flew up to wipe at your face, your breathing becoming ragged and hopeless. As you glanced back at Snape, he paused for a moment, his lips curling into an amused, incredulous smirk at your words. He couldn't believe what had just fallen from your mouth. Did he hear you correctly? Were you truly so delusional?
"You 'know' Buckbeak? Don't be absurd, Y/N." Snape huffed at you, his eyes narrowing as the corners of his lips tugged downwards disdainfully. "Buckbeak is a wild creature, it is hopelessly foolish of you to believe you can understand, much less, tame one!" He said, strained, his knuckles turning white from the aggressive, vice-like grip he had on his desk.
"These creatures are deeper than you think, Snape," you frowned, eyes stormy and reckless, unknowingly searching for trouble. His long fingers flew up to massage the bridge of his nose, clearly growing more fed up by the second. "Perhaps you'd understand if you had a heart within that empty chest of yours." A curt, exasperated sigh tore from your nostrils. Though, before you could take back your words, a blanket of regret wrapped itself around your seething body, your once-stormy eyes widening a tad as the realisation of what you had just uttered began to seep in. The sudden silence in the room was unbearably thick.
Snape's eyebrow twitched as he raised his head. Slowly, he fixed you with a dark, scrutinising gaze, rendering you speechless. Your body froze. "Bold, today, are we?" Snape's deep, stinging voice cut through the quietness like razors, reaching your ears like a thousand sharp pins.
You didn't answer him, fearing you might provoke him further. You'd never seen him like this. Dark, unnerved, fervent. It was terrifying to you. Perhaps you did cross the line. Gods, what had you done? Couldn't you have just brought the Mandrakes and sodded off? Jesus.
Snape marched towards you without a word, his cloak billowing out behind him like a flag. You couldn't help but notice the fury emanating from every single inch of his body, prompting your cheeks to flare up in a wild, raging blush. You had no time to defend yourself from Snape's long, cold and slender fingers as they clutched your jaw in force, shooting a frightening yet delicious shiver down your spine. A soft surprised gasp escaped your throat as he pushed you off of the stool you were sat on, a loud bang breaking through the silence as it clattered to the floor. Your back was instantaneously pressed against the table behind you as Snape shoved your backwards from the hold of your jaw, your eyes pooling with sudden panic as his fingers tightened against your skin, bound to leave marks. Fearfully, the palms of your hands flew to steady yourself against the edge of the table he'd rammed you against; your back arched painfully as he leaned right into your face, a spine-chilling scowl adopting his features.
The two of you were mere inches away from each other. Snape bared his teeth at you in a sneer, almost like he was revolted by your presence. He let his thumb slip upwards from your chin to the skin just beneath your bottom lip, pressing it against your teeth. Your eyes were forced to stare into his, his ones cold and penetrating in a way that only Snape's could be. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears that at this point that you were afraid you'd go deaf. 
Both of your chests heaved laboriously, leaning against one another, like you'd just sprinted for a mile without stopping for a break. As you stared into Snape's threatening eyes, you felt your body numb, his signature scent of sweet wine, books and smoke invading your nose like it was nothing. Against your will, your body welcomed it and you felt yourself relapsing from the addicting smell. With wild eyes locked together, you saw something else swimming in his wicked, black eyes. They almost looked pained, helpless, maybe even like they were... yearning? Your eyes flicked over his face gradually, slowly drinking him in. Whilst the two of you stared at each other, trapped between one another's body, a fluttering sensation slowly materialised in your gut, prompting your eyes to fall to Snape's angry, quivering lips. The undeniable urge to press your lips against his own was scratching at you like a desperate caged animal. You inhaled sharply and blinked, averting your hungry eyes back to his own, distracting yourself from such thoughts. Again, you found yourself lost in him.
Before you even had a chance to look deeper, Snape's bone-chilling voice tore you from your thoughts. You felt as if he'd noticed you spotting something deeper lingering within him.
"Get. Out." Snape spat, roughly releasing you from his grip, your hand flying up to soothe your aching jaw. You stood there, your arched back and splayed out hands against the edge of the wooden table, flabbergasted. Snape stalked back to his desk acting like the previous minute did not just happen. For once, you obliged and stood up straight, your feet immediately rushing forwards to carry yourself out of Snape's classroom in absolute silence, face blank with shock. As you shut the door behind you, you paused in your footsteps for a moment, eyes locked absentmindedly on the cobblestone ground in front of you.
What the fuck had just happened? Can the two of you no longer have normal interactions? You always have to be at each other's throats each time?
Your fingers lifted up to your face and traced where Snape's fingertips had been pressed into the skin on your jaw, a dull soreness emitting from the area as you touched it. That's definitely going to leave a mark.
Fuck.
You just hoped Ben didn't visit you for another week or so. There was absolutely no way you could explain this without it seeming super fucking suspicious. Oh jeez, Ben. How were you meant to face him when you'd just been on the verge of kissing Snape? It was just in the heat of the moment, obviously... Was it? Did he feel it too? No, of course he didn't, he looked like he wanted to kill you.
A frustrated groan bubbled in your throat as you stomped away from Snape's classroom door, heading back to your class.
Merlin, were you fucked.
Part 9!
hey guys.... i hope you enjoyed this part, i apologise again for how long it took me omfg. i'm ashamed. :( i just couldn't get the creative juices flowing, then i got covid (which im still battling). like bruh give me a BREAK PLEASE.
anyway, i already have part 9 planned out so i'm hoping it wont be as long to type up!! <3 love you guys.
please let me know what you thought!! also what are your patronuses if you have one?! mine is a snowy owl :)
taglist: (i hope i haven't missed anyone or added anyone by accidient!! if i have i'm sorry and please tell me!!)
@a-laufeyson
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indigo-scarf · 1 year
Text
Draco DID want to be a Death Eater (and here’s why)
If I had a Sickle for every time I’ve read that Draco became a Death Eater against his will, forced by either his father or Voldemort, I’d be as rich as the Malfoys. However, that is not true in canon, and Draco is much more compelling and tragic for it.
It’s explicitly shown in HBP that Draco was enthusiastic about serving Voldemort in the beginning. Bellatrix, who’s ever eager to call out any unfaithfulness to Voldemort, defends Draco:
“And I will say this for Draco: he isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect —” (HBP2)
Draco himself gloats about it:
“Well, you never know,” said Malfoy with the ghost of a smirk. “I might have … er … moved on to bigger and better things.” [...] “When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't. It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown.” [...] Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring. “I can see Hogwarts,” said Malfoy, clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of the blackened window. (HBP7)
And he’s preoccupied with the “glory” he thinks he’ll get by completing his mission:
“I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!” (Draco to Snape, HBP15)
“[Snape]'s been offering me plenty of help — wanting all the glory for himself — wanting a bit of the action — [...] But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favourite any more, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!” (HBP29)
Of course there are threats and fear involved, as well, since this is Voldemort we’re talking about, but it’s both the carrot and the stick. When Draco starts to think he might fail, he focusses on the threats, hence:
“No one can help me,” said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. “I can't do it... I can't... It won't work… and unless I do it soon... he says he'll kill me…” (HBP24)
Nonetheless, as per the previous quotes, he oscillates between being terrified of failure and chasing the rewards of success up until the very end, in the Astronomy Tower.
As I've argued extensively in my Hand of Glory meta, I see Draco’s becoming a Death Eather as an attempt to both prove himself to his father and to prove himself better than his father.
It’s not that Draco has lost love or respect for Lucius, but he still wants to take the opportunity to make his father finally see his value by out-doing him. If Lucius’s DoM blunder triggered the Malfoys’ fall from grace, Draco’s success will earn them even more honour than they had before.
At the same time, though, Draco’s actions are not truly emancipatory because his father remains the point of reference that determines his worth.
Ultimately, Draco’s motive for taking the Mark is less about belief in the cause, and more about his daddy issues paradox: wanting to prove himself a grown up man, but doing so in a desperate, rash bid for the paternal validation he so sorely lacks.
Draco starts HBP insisting that he’s “...not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother”, and “perfectly capable of doing [his] shopping alone” (HBP6), but by the end of the book he’s feeling quite incapable of doing things alone, and still struggling with his need for approval from a father figure.
To me, this is much more interesting than simple external coercion. Draco’s own lack of independent self-worth is what leads him to destroy his life, and what renders him unable to be dissuaded from it. He dismisses anyone who tries to warn or help him, because he assumes they must share his own repressed lack of belief in himself, and marches solitary and obstinate towards his own ruin.
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midnightstargazer · 16 days
Text
Taylor Swift lyrics for the Marauders Era characters
James
The tricky thing is yesterday, we were just children, playing soldiers, just pretending, dreaming dreams with happy endings
It turned into something bigger, somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed
Lily
So you were never a saint, and I've loved in shades of wrong, we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts, but this love is brave and wild
The whole school is rolling fake dice, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes
Your little hand's wrapped around my finger, and it's so quiet in the world tonight
Sirius
I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad, and that must be why
I rewind the tape, but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost, sending signals to be double-crossed
Sometimes giving up is the strong thing, sometimes to run is the brave thing, sometimes walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing
Remus
You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding
You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart
I've been having a hard time adjusting, had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting
Peter
We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde, until I switched to the other side, it's no surprise I turned you in, 'cause us traitors never win
Narcissa
I want you to know, I'm a mirrorball, I could change everything about me to fit in
And I feel my castles crumbling down, and I watch all my bridges burn to the ground, and you don't want to know me, I will just let you down, you don't want to know me now
Andromeda
Holding my breath, slowly, I said, you don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?
I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
And I can still see it all in my mind, all of you, all of me, intertwined, I once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden
Bellatrix
They say I did something bad, then why's it feel so good?
The rumors are terrible and cruel, but honey, most of them are true
Regulus
When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe
And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts, memories feel like weapons, and now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering
I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone
Snape
I don't trust nobody, and nobody trusts me
All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret
You're on your own, kid, you always have been
72 notes · View notes
chakkll · 7 months
Text
Gorgeous
Fred Weasley x gender neutral!reader
Synopsis: You and one of the two most popular students in school have always had a bit of a rocky relationship; the two of you constantly either pulling pranks or insulting each other (all in good fun, of course). However, little does Fred know, you’ve been crushing on him. Hard.
Inspiration: “Gorgeous” by Taylor Swift
Word Count: 1.8k
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“Oh, come on!”
You groan, now completely soaked after simply exiting the bathroom because of a certain Weasley—or, as you like to call him, Weasel. Dripping wet, you have no choice other than to walk right back into the bathroom and quickly think up a solution to your immense discomfort.
You can feel water ooze out of your socks every time you take a step, and it only fills up your shoe just to be soaked back up by your socks. You hastily hurry into a stall, close it behind you and take off your socks and shoes.
Getting that out of the way, you turn around and ring out your socks into the toilet. You can hear a faint giggling from outside the stall.
“That Weasley boy got you again, didn’t he?”
A rather high pitched voice whom you’ve spoken to many times pipes up from above you. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Myrtle, not now.” You sigh as you angrily ring out your socks, and your obvious annoyance only makes the ghost giggle even more.
“Such a mean boy, constantly playing pranks on an innocent student,” Myrtle pauses, and you can hear a small squeak come from her. “Reminds me of my whole existence!” Myrtle lets out a small sob.
Not having the energy to comfort the now sobbing ghost, you just sigh once again and continue to ring out your socks until water finally stops coming out.
“Myrtle, I’d comfort you, but I’m kind of soaked and late for potions,” You softly call out, but receive no response. “Must’ve gone to a different bathroom.” You mutter and step out of the stall.
“So annoying, constantly playing ‘harmless’ pranks,” You use air quotes when saying harmless as you whip out your wand. “Doesn’t that idiot know when to stop? Snape will have my head for being late!” You grumble as you perform a quick drying charm (“exaresco!”) on yourself and, soon after, your socks and shoes. Slipping them back on, you quickly do the same to your bag that had the same unfortunate fate as you, lug it over your shoulder, and run out the bathroom.
“That Weasel, making everything so unnecessarily difficult! Can’t he just give it a rest?” You mutter as you make the long trip to the dungeons.
Mumbling incoherent plans to murder Fred, you soon make it to the classroom. “Why can’t he be like Ron? Or Ginny?” You cautiously approach the door, quieting down. Every inch of you screaming to just skip the class because of how late you are, you slowly push the door open, only to see Snape sitting at his desk, staring at you with great disapproval evident on his face.
“Ah, (L/N), nice of you to stop by.” Snape sneers, his hands folded on the table in front of him.
You force an apologetic smile onto your face, feeling the whole room’s attention on you. “I apologize for being tardy, Professor. You see, as I was exiting the lavatory, a pail of water was poured onto me.” Since you sit with the twins, so knowing the Weasel is quietly watching you give your story to Snape—most likely with a smirk—only manages to piss you off even more.
Snape’s disapproving stare doesn’t let up. He only purses his thin lips, though it’s a little hard to tell under his crooked nose. “Ten points from (your house).”
You slowly nod. “Sorry again, Professor.” He ignores you. You take this as the go-ahead to sit down. Everyone’s attention is back on their own potions as you approach the table you normally sit at. However, instead of there being two redheads, there’s only one.
Silently sitting down in your stool, you quietly take out your potions book. “No George today?” You coolly flip through your textbook as Fred looks to you.
“Nope, he’s in the Hospital Wing.”
Your brows furrow in confusion and worry. “The Hospital Wing? Why?”
“Testing one of our newer products; long story short, it didn’t end well for George.”
“Ah.” You nod as you flip to the same page Fred has his textbook opened to. After a few moments of awkward silence, you can feel Fred’s gaze on you again as you read through the ingredients for your assignment; a Laughing Potion.
“What’s got your pants in a bunch?” You can hear him smirking as you start to chop the alihotsy leaves.
Rolling your eyes, your chopping starts to become a little more aggressive. “Why, nothing, Weasel.”
“Aw, really? Nothing at all?” He continuously stares at the side of your face with a teasing smirk. “So you aren’t mad at me?”
“How could I ever be mad at the worst Weasley?” You set the chopped alihotsy leaves to the side as you start to heat your cauldron.
“Aw, that’s mean, (Y/N).” You glance up to Fred’s face, seeing him pout like a four-year-old. You resist the urge to smile at the cute expression, going back to laying out your ingredients.
When Fred realizes that you’re ignoring him, he lets out a dramatic sigh and rests his head on the table. “(Y/N),” He softly calls.
After being met with only the sound of students hysterically laughing into their cauldrons, Fred frowns. “(Y/N).”
You feel a soft tap on your right shoulder—Fred is sitting on your left—so you look up, only to see Angelina Johnson smiling bashfully at you. “Hey, (Y/N), can I ask for a little help?” And the two of you get into a fruitful discussion about how many Puffskein hairs you should put in the cauldron at a time. This only makes Fred’s frown deepen.
Soon enough, Snape orders Angelina back up to her table and for Fred to focus—you snicker quietly when he whacks Fred over the head with his book—and you go back go your potion, pouring in clear spring water.
Fred has been calling you for the past few minutes, and each time you act like he doesn’t exist.
“(Y/N), look, I’m sorry if my prank upset you,” Fred’s usual teasing tone is long gone, replaced with a soft and apologetic one. “I didn’t think it would have made you late; I’m sorry.”
Staring into your cauldron with wide, surprised eyes, you look over to Fred. He’s awkwardly smiling at you, his cheeks tinted pink. After staring at each other for a few seconds, you sigh softly.
“Damn it.” You curse quietly and look away from Fred. When he hears your reaction, his brows furrow in confusion.
“It’s fine. Just… don’t do it again.” You murmur just loud enough for Fred to hear, and he brightens instantly.
“Oh, good! I thought you were gonna say I looked stupid.” He chuckles bashfully and you silently curse again.
“No, you looked cute, dummy,” You think to yourself, feeling your cheeks warm. “And don’t chuckle like that—it’s too damn sexy.”
You quietly cover your face as you turn back to your cauldron and continue to brew your Laughing Potion.
Throughout the rest of the period, you and Fred joke around with each other—every once in a while you flirt, but you brush it off, thinking he’s just teasing—until you two have to laugh into your potions.
“And it has to be genuine hysterical laughter. You can’t force it.” You remind Fred as he just shrugs.
“I can make you laugh any day, this should be a piece of cake.” You roll your eyes at his confidence, but soon enough, the Weasley has you crying in laughter because of his idiotic pickup lines, and it soon turns into a pickup line battle.
This makes Fred start to laugh uncontrollably as well, and you two barely remember that you have to be laughing at your potions; not just near them. So, you redirect your laughter to the unfinished potions.
Even though you’ve laughed enough, you two continue with the battle.
“Hey, hey, I’m not trying to get in your pants, I just want to invest in them.” Fred cackles loudly when you manage to get it out, and his laughter makes you laugh more.
“I’m learning about important dates in history; you wanna be one of them?” Fred’s line makes you wheeze, and you two are laughing so hard it actually hurts.
Soon, Fred falls off his stool laughing. “Oh Merlin, are you okay?” You choke out, wiping tears from your eyes.
Fred’s laughter momentarily stops as he looks you dead in the eye. Your laughter dies down, expecting him to say that he’s actually hurt.
“Ugh, you see this? Now I need to visit Madame Pomfrey too, all because I fell for you.”
You two hold a dead stare, but it doesn’t last long, because soon you two are hysterically laughing again. After a few seconds, you find yourself fallen on the floor with Fred.
Snape comes over and whacks you both over the head when he realizes you aren’t working on your potions, and the two of you soon get back onto your stools. Quietly throwing jokes at each other, you both somehow manage to finish the potion just before class finished.
After you pack up and hand Snape your vial of Laughing Potion, you two exit potions together, still giggling about the class.
“That was so terrible, why did we laugh at those stupid lines so much?” You snort softly as you two make your way to the Great Hall for lunch.
“Hey, you’re still laughing.” Fred grins at you mischievously and you only playfully shove his shoulder in return.
“Hey, seriously though,” You look up, only to see Fred’s expression completely serious.
“Stop doing complete emotional 180s.” You think to yourself as you wait for the boy to continue.
“I really am sorry about the prank earlier.” Fred apologizes once again, and you can tell how genuine he’s being by just one glance at his face.
You only wave a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“No, I’m really sorry.” You can feel your cheeks heating up. Why? You don’t know.
“But, I think I might know a way to make it up to you.” Fred’s genuine expression is replaced with a slightly teasing, slightly flirty one.
You tilt your head in confusion, silently urging him to continue. Fred grins.
“Let me take you out on a date, and like I said earlier, it’ll be one for the history books.”
You stare at him, your eyes widening in confusion and disbelief. “…Huh?”
“Let me take you out. The Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow, we can go to the Three Broomsticks, Zonko’s, Honeydukes. Whatever you want. Just let me take you on a date.” You can tell that Fred is nervous despite his confident front.
When you realize how serious he is, you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. “You… you’re interested in me?”
Fred nods bashfully. “Thought it was obvious, with the pranks ‘n all.”
You shake your head softly, chuckling to yourself. “…Sure. Take me out.”
Fred brightens. “You won’t regret this.”
“Yeah, I hope so.” You sarcastically reply, only making Fred laugh.
“Meet in the courtyard?”
You nod, the two of you grinning like idiots at each other.
“Great. See you tomorrow, gorgeous.”
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sleepstxtic · 7 days
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Fluff Fest: Dead Pigeon Edition - Masterlist
@maesterchill and I bring to you the masterlist of works from the Fluff Fest: Dead Pigeon Edition! All 22 works are 2k or under (with the exception of our multi-chaptered fics). You can find them below! Thank you so much for following along <3
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Hungry Face by @themiddleofwonderland | Explicit Draco's been at the cottage for a week.
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Asphalt and Asphodel by @jtimu | Mature Harry and Draco take a road trip.
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Spellbound by @wolfpants | Explicit Draco Malfoy's crime ring have captured the one asset they know will get Harry Potter's attention: his son, Albus. With their location in France no longer untraceable, Draco must move Albus to the next safehouse. They're alone, in a shitty Muggle car in the middle of the European countryside, and the tension is about to hit its crest.
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Camp Crystal Wood by @leahrocky | Explicit Harry is hired to be a camp counselor at the newly reopened Camp Crystal Wood alongside his very best friends. When he finds out Draco Malfoy will be there as well, he knows he's in for a boatload of trouble.
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Carnivorous Plants and What to Feed Them by DrPansyParkinson | Mature Neville Longbottom's too busy at work to find a girl to date, but when the perfect witch walks through his grandmother's flower shop doors, he'll stop at nothing to dance with her.
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bad omen, right? by @maesterchill | Explicit George Weasley is a busy man.Busy managing a very successful joke shop, and a moderately successful social life, and a less-than-successful sobriety issue. Certainly far too busy to spare a single thought for something as everyday as his talking mirror. So, it's only when his girlfriend Angelina is helping him decide what to wear for his fortieth birthday party that evening that he finally sees it. A glimpse of his long-dead brother, silent and unspeaking. Which, as all wizards know, can't be a good omen.
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Soft Love by @just-a-whorecrux | Explicit Albus has the best birthday ever. 😌🧸
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Waters of the Womb by @annanother-thing | Explicit Two decades is too long, and Ginny is finally free from the girl in the mirror.
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Garden Scene by CreepingMyrtle | Mature   Narcissa welcomes Lucius home from Azkaban. It’s a warm night, not yet dark, and, as he speaks, her heart collapses inward on itself until it is as hard and dense as a hagstone, calcified around its gaping hole. She thinks she will perhaps never cry again. “Yes, darling,” she says, and “Here, there’s something I’ve been wanting to show you.” She summons his favorite robe. She leads him to the garden.
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A Drowned Man by @apricitydays-lazynights | Mature Is there anything in this world more restorative than a bubble bath?
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Mushroom Hunting by @apricitydays-lazynights | Mature Ollivanders wands are crafted with only the finest materials, proudly sourced locally using sustainable practices.
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A Soft, Low Strain by @dodgerkedavra | Explicit Harry can’t help that it feels so good.
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poison every little thing by veradubhghoill | Explicit “Yuck,” Draco says in a tone of such vehemence that Harry feels a sudden, violent pang of longing for the Draco Malfoy he’d known in Hogwarts.
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Aged unto perfection by @maesterchill | Mature Draco and Harry enjoy a tipple together on their honeymoon.
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Hold me like water by @uncannycerulean | Mature After the war, Draco starts frequenting bookshops all over London, not knowing what he is looking for. Until he finds Harry, who is looking for something, too.
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This Messiah Needs Watching by @themiddleofwonderland | Explicit The baby comes the day after Draco's birthday.
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The Dancing Hours by @dodgerkedavra | Explicit Harry begged. Draco couldn't say no.
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His Ghost by @sleepstxtic | Mature “I saw his ghost," Hermione says.
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Bridal Rose by @dodgerkedavra | Explicit Harry would do anything.
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Gutless by @sillywives | Explicit Malfoy is sick. Harry is getting better.
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I would love you if you had a worm by @elskanellis | Explicit Living in the Room of Requirement during Snape's tenure, Ginny has had to do a lot of things to help her community survive. Saving Seamus Finnegan might be the most difficult thing yet.
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Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes | Explicit Harry has been pining for years. It's time he finally makes his dreams come true.
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mybutcheredtongue · 2 months
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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased
Harry Potter timeline Sirius Black x fem!reader
CHAPTER SIX (see full series list here)
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1992
You feel your breath catch in your throat, stumbling backwards at Peeves' words. Remus rushes forward to place a steadying hand on your arm and you swallow hard, brushing yourself off. You don't want your students to see you like this.
You look back at the torn canvas, viciously slit and ripped.
Would Sirius really do that?
Why would he even want to get into the Gryffindor Tower?
You can feel the other teachers looking at you and you attempt to steady your racing heart, though not to much success.
"P — Professor Dumbledore, we need to get the children out of here," you say meekly, and he nods slowly.
"Yes, yes...please, lead these students to the Great Hall. Professor Snape, please go get the Slytherins, and Professor McGonagall and I will collect the rest," he says, and you nod shakily, smiling weakly at the Gryffindors.
"Alright, everyone, let's go...Percy, will you please help me?"
Percy nods affirmatively, striding to the head of the group and marching forward towards the Great Hall.
Remus looks at you with worry laced in his features and you just shrug at him. You have no idea what to do.
The students stand in the Great Hall, chattering worriedly between themselves, before you're eventually joined by the rest of the school and faculty.
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore says as McGonagall and Flitwick close all doors into the Great Hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will all have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Girl and Boy in charge. Any disturbance should be reported immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts."
Dumbledore pauses, about to leave the Hall, and says, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."
He waves his wand casually and the long tables fly to the edges of the Hall and stand themselves up against the walls; another wave, and the floor is covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," he says, exiting the Hall. You glance at Remus and quickly scurry after the Headmaster.
Outside, the entire faculty have gathered, grim looks on their faces. Many of them are just staring at you, and you just swallow nervously, looking down at your shoes.
"How could he have possibly gotten in, Professor Dumbledore?" McGonagall asks in disbelief.
Snape tuts. "Perhaps he had inside help," he says, looking pointedly at you.
You glare back at him. "Yes, Severus, you got me. I helped Sirius get in the castle just so he could go slashing at paintings!"
"Well, considering how you foolishly maintain that that madman is innocent — "
"He is innocent!"
"Then why, pray tell, is he breaking into the castle and 'slashing at paintings''?" Snape snaps and you falter.
"I — I don't...I don't — "
"Enough. I do not believe a single person in this castle would let Black in, Severus," Dumbledore intervenes calmly, though Snape still glares accusingly at you. "Now, there is an escaped convict in our school, and we must find him. Severus, you take the West Wing. Minerva, Filius, the courtyard and outer grounds, please..."
He glances at you, a sympathetic look on his face. "I think it's best if you stay with the students."
You nod wordlessly, eyes stinging, before turning around and returning to the Great Hall. The lights are out and the students appear to be trying to get to sleep, though most are whispering quietly between themselves. It's only illuminated by the silvery ghosts bobbing in the air, talking seriously with the Prefects, and the starry night sky above you.
"Did you find him, Professor?" One student pipes up as you enter and nearly all heads turn to look at you.
You sigh, shaking your head. "No, Mr Thomas, not yet."
You make your way through the sleeping bags, arriving at the head of the Hall and place your forehead against the wall in disbelief.
Why would he do that?
Why was he trying to get into Gryffindor Tower?
Was he looking for you?
No, surely not. How could he know you work here?
No. He must have been looking for something else.
Someone else.
But who?
You spend the next while full of thoughts and questions before Dumbledore finally enters the Hall, and heads for Percy. You glance up at the enchanted ceiling, and you estimate that it's around three in the morning. Snape then enters soon after, speaking with Dumbledore, casting a judgemental look your way. Probably trying to convince Dumbledore to fire you or something. Lock you away, maybe.
You watch as Snape then leaves, and Dumbledore makes his way over to you. You mentally prepare yourself for the onslaught, wiping away the silent tears that have stained your cheeks.
"Any sign of him, sir?" You ask nervously, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
He shakes his head. "No, I am afraid not."
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're not sure whether you should be glad they haven't found him or to be worried that they haven't found him.
Maybe he really was looking for you. Found out about your job somehow. Maybe he's angry that you never visited, never wrote him letters. Not that you were allowed to — the Ministry always said that such a dangerous criminal doesn't deserve such kindness.
"Headmaster, I swear to you I had no involvement in this. I know I've always said he's innocent, but I would never compromise the safety of my students like that," you splutter desperately, looking up at Dumbledore in worry.
He just nods as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "I know. I trust you."
Something in the genuineness with which he says those words makes your eyes water again and your bottom lip tremble. You sigh shakily, putting your head in your hands.
"I just...I just had so much faith in him. I was so certain..." you whisper. "But now...I don't know. I'm just so confused. I don't understand why he would do that. Why would he ever do that?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
You laugh humourlessly, kissing your teeth. "Perhaps all those years in Azkaban really did turn him mad. Maybe I really have been acting like a fool all along. I feel so stupid."
"Seeing the good in someone does not make you a fool," Dumbledore replies gently.
You smile weakly. "You may be the only one who thinks that."
Dumbledore says your name softly, comfortingly. "Often, it is the ones we love that cause us the most pain. When an outsider tells you to stop loving someone who has done something wrong, it is never as easy as they think."
"I just don't want it to feel like a waste. Like I wasted my wedding, my home, my life — loving a bloody murderer," you spit, looking away from him and inhaling deeply.
Dumbledore says nothing for a moment, before speaking quietly, "Do you feel as though you married a murderer?"
You pause, thinking hard for a moment. You remember all those times Sirius kissed you. All the times he told you he loved you. You remember how much fun the two of you used to have together, even more, when you were with your friends. With James and Lily. You remember how James and Sirius were connected at the hip, two sides of the same coin. They were brothers in every way but by blood. You remember the pure joy and pride on his face when he held his baby godson for the first time. You look down at the wedding ring around your finger, twisting it. It's been easy to twist ever since you got it, as you've fiddled with it every time you've been worried or anxious about something. You remember him slipping that wedding ring around your finger on the happiest day of your life.
"No, I don't."
He doesn't respond to that, simply giving you a small, understanding smile, and leaving you.
⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。
The next few days, Sirius is the talk of the school. If you got a galleon for every time you heard his name during your classes you'd probably be able to buy the castle.
It's almost like your school days. Well, back then it was talk of how handsome he was. Now, it's conspiracies of how he got inside the castle and just how demented he actually is.
One class, you're correcting homework while your third-year students work with their telescopes, and Seamus Finnigan throws a question your way:
"Professor, do you know how Black got into the castle?"
"No, Mr Finnigan," you respond curtly, not looking up from your work.
"I reckon he tunnelled under the ground," he says simply.
You shake your head tiredly. "Perhaps."
Days later, you hurry down to the Quidditch pitch, cursing angrily at the torrential rain currently battering your face and body. You shuffle into an empty seat, squinting out onto the pitch. Everything looks grey and murky, the rain and wind overpowering everything.
You can barely even see the players, though you do notice Harry getting thrown around in the wind from time to time. You're shivering beneath the multiple layers you're wearing, and as much as you love Quidditch, you're just waiting for the match to be over at this point and you can return to your lovely warm quarters.
Lightning flashes, and as you skim your eyes around the pitch, you have to do a double take when you see something that makes your breath catch in your throat. There, directly across from you, in the topmost, empty row of seats in the far box is the silhouette of a shaggy black dog. You blink rapidly, leaning forward to see if what you're seeing is really real.
Harry whizzes past on his broomstick, momentarily blocking your line of sight. When he's gone, so is the dog, and you sigh, leaning back in your seat again.
Maybe I'm finally going mad, you think.
And then you really do think you're going mad, because an eerie silence suddenly falls over the stadium. It even feels like the wind is holding its breath.
A horrible cold washes over you, even colder than you already are. Movement catches your eye and you look to the pitch, noticing at least a hundred cloaked figures gliding creepily along, looking up at the Quidditch players.
You stand up in shock, and watch in horror as Harry starts to sway on his broomstick, before slipping and plummeting towards the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, you plunge your hand into your pocket and produce your wand, yelling, "Aresto Momentum!"
Harry's fall slows, and he lands semi-gently on the pitch floor. You run down to the pitch, just in time to find Dumbledore, outraged and bellowing furiously at the Dementors. He casts his patronus and the silvery phoenix drives the Dementors out of the stadium. Then he magicks up a stretcher for Harry, and walks with him out of the stadium. You follow them in worry, glancing behind you to see Cedric Diggory clasping the golden snitch in his hands, as he talks rapidly with Madam Hooch.
Harry is fine, of course. Madam Pomfrey fetched large bars of chocolate and left them on his bedside, muttering angrily about Dementors on school grounds and chatting furiously with Dumbledore, who was equally angry. You leave soon after Harry arrives at the hospital wing, thinking that his friends and teammates may find it odd that you're there.
You spend the rest of the evening mulling over your sight of Sirius. You have no doubt that that was his animagus, but you're not sure whether you imagined it or not. Would he really be that stupid to watch a Quidditch game when he's on the run?
Part of you wouldn't be surprised at that. Can't keep that man away from his favourite game.
You remember when he was a Gryffindor chaser, playing alongside James. You commentated during your time at school, and while you were supposed to be focused on the game itself, most of the time you were ogling Sirius whizzing around the pitch. And getting reprimanded by McGonagall for not being impartial — but that's beside the point.
⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。
→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡
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momo-t-daye · 7 months
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Momo's unofficial Snapetober for 2023
I have had such a delightful time with Snapetober the last couple of years and wanted to celebrate Severus Snape again this October!
Since I haven’t seen an official list of prompts for 2023 just yet (if anyone does have an official list, please do let me know! I don't want to step on toes), I compiled a list from a few previous Snapetobers, Inktobers, etc. and then added in some other words that struck me as October-ish and/or autumnal and/or Snape-esque to challenge myself If anyone else would like to participate with my unofficial prompt list, that would be glorious and I’d be thrilled!  It is such a treat to see all sorts of new Snape art and thoughts and creativity and all the ways the Snapedom can have fun with a concept and theme.
As I understand from previous years, the Snapetober rules are that you can do any number of prompts you fancy, combine prompts (I will!), respond to prompts in any order and on your own schedule (Snapetober can last until March and beyond if that is the timetable that works best for you!), and/or use prompt lists from previous years and that entries can be anything you wish to create from fic (any length, format, point of view, pairing, alternate universe or canon, featuring any additional characters), art (in any style and any level of effort), head-canons, plot bunnies, mood-boards, ballads, etc. etc. just so long as it is focused on Severus Snape and it is yours (also, if you have older art that fits a prompt that you want to circulate upon the metaphorical refrigerator, I think that’s awesome and would love to see it!)
I expect this list is a bit more plant and animal themed (because that is where my brain resides most of the time) and I did gravitate towards words that tickle the tongue (if there are any words that don’t translate well or don’t quite make sense, I am happy to try to help clarify). I hope there is sufficient wiggle room in the prompts to be interpreted in any direction!
Foliage
Harvest
Path
Home
Smoke
Mushroom
Corvids
Crepuscular
Invention
Flight
Water
Amphibian
Ephemeral
Perpetual
Serpent
Filthy
Apple
Gaze
Hands
Spider
Paradox
Power
Remembrance
Maze
Mask
Superstition
Bats
Scarecrow
Pumpkin
Ghost
Costume
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starrystormwritings · 7 months
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Peace
Peace
Master List <3 Request List <3 Marauders Master List
Remus Lupin x Reader
A/n: AHHHH Taylor Swift <333
Summery: But the rain is always gonna come if your standing with me
Warnings: injuries, blood mention, insecurities, constant reassurance within a relationship, song lyrics within the fic, swearing
Word Count: 1627
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(NOT MY GIF)
Our coming of age has come and gone,
Suddenly, this summer, it's clear.
I look myself in the mirror as I wash the blood off of my hands. The gash up my arm still stung slightly due to the sing of the rubbing alcohol but the bleeding has stopped thanks to my little first aid kit.
We've only been out of Hogwarts for three weeks and the full moon had come around.
Me and Remus were hoping the rest of the gang would be available to help him but only Sirius was free and I had found myself showing up too early and standing a little too close.
I never had the courage of my convictions, As long as danger is near.
I step out of the bathroom of our little apartment to see Remus sat on the sofa with his head in his hands.
I sit myself next to him, speaking in the bravest yet gentlest voice I can muster.
"Hey.."
He looks up at me slowly with stained cheeks, watery eyes and a new scar creeping up his neck from under his shirt.
And it's just around the corner, darling, 'Cause it lives in me.
"I'm so sorry." He chokes up between a sob, flinching away as I try to place a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey it's not your fault."
He finally allows himself to melt into my touch, silently and softly crying into my shoulder as I run my hands through his curls.
No, I could never give you peace.
"I can't believe I hurt you." He says as he finally collects himself, sitting up from my shoulder.
"That wasn't you, you didn't mean to do it." I say, brushing some hair behind his ear, allowing my hand to linger on his cheek.
But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm, If your cascade, ocean wave blues come.
"Why?"
"Why what?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow at him as I trace his features with my thumb.
"Why are you here, with me. Living this life. You deserve so much better than this."
He wipes another tear off his face with the sleeve of his jumper whilst shaking his head.
"Because I love this life. And I love you."
All these people think love's for show, But I would die for you in secret.
"But why?" He looks at me with an expression full of pain, regret and guilt which made my heart break on the spot.
"Remus Lupin your intelligence, personality, face and most of all heart is why I've always loved you. Do you really think that I would've punched Snape in the nose in third year for making fun of you if I didn't love you? Or ran into the forbidden forest, at night, without my want in our fifth year just because I thought you might've been hurt? I've always loved you Remus and I love this life, our life, because I have you in it."
The devils in the details, But you got a friend in me.
He nods slightly, a single tear rolls down his cheek as he prepares himself to speak again.
"But this is my life. I'll always have this.. this burden to carry on my shoulders. I don't want you to have to carry it as well. I'll never grow old with you in the way you want, or be able to give you any calmness or serenity in your life."
"It's much easier to carry something heavy if you ask for help, and serenity is boring anyway."
I smile at him, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
Would it be enough, If I could never give you peace?
A ghost of a smile crosses his face as he nods at my words before taking another shaky breath.
"But I hurt you. I lost control of myself and hurt you. And I have no way of guaranteeing to you that it won't happen again. Your the most important and perfect thing in my life, I would never be able to forgive myself if something serious happened to you. What if Sirius wasn't there? What happens when it's just me and you here? I try my best to keep you as safe as possible and yet the only harm that's come to you is from my own hand."
Your integrity makes me seem small, You paint dreamscapes on the wall.
"I'm not afraid of what might happen Remus, because I know that if anyone can handle it it's us."
I take his hand into my own, placing them in my lap as I run my thumb back and forth the side of his hand.
"Plus we'd be so lucky to get rid of James, Sirius and Peter. As if they'd never leave us alone. And even if they did we'd manage."
He chuckles lightly at the mention of our co-dependent friends and opens his arms to me as if to offer a hug.
I talk shit with my friends, It's like I'm wasting your honour. And you know that I'd, Swing with you for the fences.
~27 days later~
"I made chocolate cake, I know it's your favourite." I say with a smile, placing the plate into the table next to the seat he was reading in.
"I'm trying to read, leave me alone."
"Oh, I'm sorry I just thought I'd try and cheer you up."
I move to sit next to him, placing a soft hand on his knee, causing his head to snap up.
"What part of I'm trying to read don't you understand? Leave me alone." He moves away from me with a cold glare.
Sit with you in the trenches, Give you my wild, Give you a child.
I climb into bed cold and lonely as his side remained empty despite the late time that was being displayed on the clock.
I understand that the effects and the stress of the oncoming full moon was effecting him but his harsh and cold attitude still upset me.
I pull the fabric of his sweater that I'm wearing closer to me in attempt to regain the familiar comfort of his embrace around me as that side of the bed remained empty.
Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, Family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother.
I awoke with my head resting on his chest as fingers gently comb through my hair.
I sleepily look up at him with hurt and lonely eyes and the expression of guilt, remorse and adoration that he returns to me with explains all the guilt and sorrys in more ways than his words can.
I just nod in understanding and cuddle closer to him.
"Try to be safe tonight. Please." I say looking away from his eyes.
Is it enough? But there's robbers to the east, Clowns to the west. I'd give you my sunshine, Give you my best.
"Y/n!" I hear James's voice shout from downstairs, accompanied by the clattering and banging of my furniture being knocked over.
I quickly rushed myself down to see what was happening to be met with the sight of James and Sirius lowering Remus's weak and bleeding body onto our couch.
"Shit.." I say whilst biting my lip, trying to assess the damage to my boyfriends torso from the skin that was on display.
"Grab the first aid bag." James says whilst shuffling the pillows around to allow Remus to sit as comfortably as possible.
"And some ice." Sirius added, undoing the top few of Remus's shirt buttons. Allowing the gashes and scrapes on his torso to breath and be easily treated.
I nod, quickly running to our kitchen "Keep him awake!"
But the rain is always gonna come, If you're standing with me.
"I'm sorry for ruining your night." He whispers lightly as he laid across my chest, his cuts and bruises now cleaned and treated,
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
He nods despite his face clearly  showing that he doesn't believe a word I said.
"I just can't believe that this is the rest of my life." He choked out another little cry as I kissed his forehead gently. "I mean what about a well paying job, or kids? I'll never have the freedom to do that."
I was unable to muster up a response, instead pulling him closer into my arms as I allowed him to cry for as long as he needed to.
But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm, If your cascade, ocean wave blues come.
"I can't believe I found you, somehow despite my constant misfortune in life I'm still the luckiest guy alive because I have you by my side." He kisses my lips with a delicate smile, caressing my face softly with the back of his hand "Thank you, for ignoring the loudness that comes with me. And for helping me learn how to love others and myself despite it."
All these people think loves for sure, But I would die for you in secret.
I blush softly at his words and peck his cheek "Remus not only was my life boring without you but it was also loveless. You've made me unbelievably happy and filled my life with this amazing light and love, I can only hope I've began to do the same for you."
He smiles at me, the both of us admiring one another faces for a moment before he pulls be into a deep kiss.
The devils in the details, But you got a friend in me. Would it be enough, If I could never give you peace?
He pulls away with a smile, keeping his face close to mine as he spoke.
"I have a question to ask you, and before I ask I want you to understand that I won't hold it against you if you say no. I can understand why you wouldn't want to and the only thing I want is for you to be as happy and as content in your life as physically possible. That's the only thing that could make me truly happy." He took my hands into his own and took a deep breath.
"Remus just ask me, what is it?" I say with a giggle, trying to reduce the obvious anxiety he was experiencing.
Would it be enough, If I could never give you peace?
"Will you marry me?"
Would it be enough, If I could never give you peace?
"Of course I will."
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sebbianas · 9 months
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i have finally sat down and did the math so here’s all the speak now songs and what marauders ship i think of for each and what lyric stands out to me
Mine - wolfstar - braced myself for the goodbye ‘cause that's all I've ever known then you took me by surprise you said, "I'll never leave you alone"
Sparks fly - jegulus - it's just wrong enough to make it feel right
Back to december - jegulus - you gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye
Speak now - nobleflower - you wish it was me, you wish it was me dont you
Dear john - lily about snape - you are an expert at “sorry” and keeping lines blurry
Mean - mary’s theme song - someday i’ll be big enough so you cant hit me (her outliving all the people who tormented her)
The story of us - black brothers - this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less but I liked it better when you were on my side
Never grow up - black brothers/black sisters - I won't let nobody hurt you won't let no one break your heart and even though you want to please, try to never grow up
Enchanted - pandalily - my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again
Better than revenge - rosekiller (in their toxic era) - you might have him but i always get the last word
Innocent - regulus’ theme song - today is never too late to be brand new
Haunted - jegulus - stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had but I still mean every word I said to you
Last Kiss - jegulus - And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe
Long Live - marauders to each other - I had the time of my life with you
Ours - marylily - seems like there's always someone who disapprove they'll judge it like they know about me and you and the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do the jury's out, but my choice is you
Superman - (not marauders but) drarry - And you'll leave, got places to be, and I'll be okay I always forget to tell you, "I love you" I loved you from the very first day
Electric touch - dorlene - all I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life and I want you now, wanna need you forever
When emma falls in love - james’ theme song - when Emma falls apart, it's when she's alone she takes on the pain and bears it on her own cause when Emma falls in love, she's in it for keeps she won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave
I can see you - jegulus - and I could see you being my addiction you can see me as a secret mission
Castles crumbling - sirius after the prank - power went to my head and I couldn't stop ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off and here I sit alone behind walls of regret falling down like promises that I never kept
Foolish one - rosekiller - you will say you had the best of intentions and maybe I will finally learn my lesson
Timeless - jily - I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray we'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made and you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless"
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heidi891 · 1 year
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I believe Snape is autistic
(FYI: I’m autistic myself and I have autistic children.)
He’s lonely. He doesn’t really have friends. We know of Lily, we also hear about Lucius Malfoy, but we don’t really see their friendship which in my opinion is much less close than fans believe. As a student he’s so alone that no one but Lily tries to stop the bullying.
He doesn’t participate in any social meetings. He’s quite miserable during the Christmas in Harry’s third year. He patrols the corridors and the grounds instead of attending the Yule Ball. He doesn’t stay for dinner after the Order meetings. He only attends the DE meetings because he has to.
His peers at school think he’s weird. Lily’s friends from Gryffindor don’t understand why she’s friends with him. When Harry asks why the Marauders bullied him, Sirius says he was different, weird, he was an "oddball". Autistic children and teenagers are often bullied because they are perceived as not normal, awkward, weird.
He doesn’t make a normal eye contact, he stares a bit too much. It can be partly explained by Legillimency, but he stared too much even as a teenager.
There’s a difference between how he speaks as a teenager and as an adult. It doesn’t sound entirely natural, he definitely had to put effort into that. It’s partly because he doesn’t want to sound like a poor man with a northern (?) accent, but autistic struggle with fluent communication may also be a reason.
He insists on precise definitions: Legilimency is not mind-reading, ghosts are not transparent but they are imprints of departed souls. He’s irritated that Harry has "no subtlety" and he doesn’t "understand fine distinctions".
He’s quite rude. He might be just *evil*, but he may just not fully understand how cruel he actually sounds. From his point of view he’s just honest and doesn’t beat around the bush. OK, maybe he’s a little mean, but not cruel… right?
He uses sarcasm (a lot of autistics actually do), but he doesn’t really appreciate Harry’s and other people’s sass, he treats their words too seriously.
He usually speaks coldly / calmly / without much emotion.
He’s usually dispassionate, he has limited facial expressions. Many autistic people also have a "resting b!tch face" unless they try to look more "normal". Perhaps he isn’t always as hateful as Harry thinks, perhaps it’s just his face.
He seems a little oblivious to other people’s emotional state and seems to analyse their behavior more intellectually.
He has special interests: Dark Arts / DADA and Potions.
He has his own collection of Potions ingredients, including rare ones, collection of weird jars (I guess they may contain some Potions ingredients, but also he may like them because of visual stimming aspect) and vast collection of books at home.
His Potions ingredients must be very orderly, he knows immediately that something is missing and what it is.
He "loves" rules. Students are breaking the rules? He takes points or gives detention. The Marauders are bullying him? He wants them expelled. (While Harry deals with the bullies on his own.) He’s caught Sirius whom he believes to be responsible for Lily’s death? He’s going to hand him over to the Ministry and the Dementors. (While Sirius and Remus want to murder Peter themselves.)
Since Snape likes rules and order, Harry who is a bit wild and unpredictable annoys him.
He doesn’t wash his hair as often as he should. It could be partly because of his poor background (he was neglected, he wasn’t taught to take a proper care of his hair, he didn’t even have a real bathroom as a child), partly because he has no one to look nice for, partly because of the Potions fumes. Autism might make him care less about his appearance. (He does care about hygiene though. Apparently he shaves regularly and Harry would certainly notice if Snape was dirty or smelly. His sallow skin and teeth have nothing to do with hygiene, it’s a result of his poverty and malnutrition.)
He stimms: He’s shredding leaves as a child. He’s flexing his fingers after the Shrieking Shack incident. During the Occlumency lessons he’s touching his lips with his finger while he’s thinking.
He has some sensory issues. He wears the same, a little baggy robes (they flutter as he walks). He’s sensitive to light: his Potions classroom is dim (it’s in the dungeons, but he could brighten it up with magic); he makes his DADA classroom dim, even though it’s no longer in the dungeons; when Harry comes to his first Occlumency lesson, Snape waits for him in a dark room. (You know, people don’t do things like that because they’re evil, it doesn’t make sense).
As a teenager he walks "like a spider" and generally he isn’t good at sports (we see him on a broom three times: in a memory of his unsuccessful flying lesson at school, being very pale and probably frightened after refereeing the Quidditch match in PS and trying to curse a DE and missing during the Battle of Seven Harrys).
John Nettleship whom Snape was partly based on was probably autistic.
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Text
Summary: Snape is learning how to use technology. You teach him and then he starts to get a little too confident.
Requested by: @chococatkay
(This isn't a oneshot, but more like a listed oneshot, if that makes sense. You'll see what I mean.)
Contents: Strong language, mentions of sexual interactions, dirty talk, dom!Snape, sub!reader.
Read below cut!
(Bold font is Snape talking.)
Teaching Severus to use technology is like..:
•"Ok! And this is how you call!" *calls him on their phone*
- *he hangs up*
- "Hey, what gives?"
- "I can talk to you from here, why would you call me?"
- *groans* "Sev, I'm trying to help you."
• *texts him* "Hey, I'm going to the grocery store, need anything?"
- "who is this?"
- "Sev, it's me y/n...your partner?"
- "Oh! Y/n, dear, how are you today?"
• *he texts you* "👻👻👻👻👻👻👻🤑🤠🤔😱"
- "um, babe, you alright?"
- "what are these?"
- "emojis"
- "👻"
- "do you like them?"
- "👻👻👻"
• "Darling, look at this picture I captured of the school today. The sun shone on it beautifully this morning!" *proceeds to show you the picture, proud*
• *calls you*
- "Sev, I'm at work babe. Can I help you with anything?"
- "Oh, sorry dear. No, I just wanted to say I love you. I suppose I could have just texted you. Apologies. Good bye!"
Random things:
• your name in his phone is "My Love"
• he really loves the ghost emoji
• takes pictures of lots of things he thinks are interesting and sends them to you
• his lock screen is a picture of you in his robes because he thinks it's a silly picture of you
Light NSFW:
• he rarely sends pictures because he worries about privacy
• he gets extremely cocky with dirty talk over texts and over the phone
- "wait until I have you in my arms, darling..."
- "I can sense your attitude, even over text. I suggest you correct it before I get home tonight, my dear."
- "I am a Professor my love, perhaps I need to teach you a lesson..."
HARD NSFW:
• after he gets more comfortable with texting, he gets more comfortable in other ways..
- "I know you're desperate my darling, but remember to have some patience. Or do I have to nail it into that pretty little head of yours tonight.."
- *you send him a picture* "Oh my, you should be more careful sending things like that to me while I'm at work. You could get me in trouble. But, by the looks of you...it seems like you want to be in trouble. You're asking for it, with your legs all spread out like that. I suppose you wish your hands were mine, right darling?"
• *you text him, frustrated*
- "What's taking you so fucking long to get home? I need you, sir! I'm going to touch myself if you take any longer."
- "Watch your tone with me. I have found myself to be busy. If you keep acting like a spoiled brat, then I might change my mind about fucking you senseless when I get home. Be patient and behave, y/n."
• "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you today, my darling. I've been craving you. Prepare yourself for tonight. I'll give you a real treat, love. As long as you're good.."
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athenadione · 3 months
Text
deals and desire (we’re playing with fire)
Spreading my Christmas Cheer! I think this might be my favorite one yet. I really hope you guys enjoy this one. You have no idea how much it means to me to be part of a close-knit fandom. I have extra comments in the author's note and you can read it on a03 HERE
Rated: T (Harry Potter AU)
Words: 9,741
The halls at Hogwarts are rambunctious during class changes, and Raven does her best to avoid most students while walking to her next lecture. For the most part, she succeeds, with the occasional Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff calling out to greet her. 
There’s chatter all around her with the excitement of the upcoming Yule Ball. Hufflepuffs bound around her with laughter, ignoring the groans of Griffyndors who are no doubt imagining the horrors of dressing up. One group of students in the hall is taking bets while another teases a younger Slytherin about asking a fellow girl to go with him. 
Raven keeps walking, her robes flowing behind her as ebony locks blow in the wind when she reaches the covered bridge. It’s snowing.
It’s the first snowfall of the year. 
There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips before they part, and she watches her breath materialize before her. Ivory fingers slip from beneath her robes, and she cups her hand, catching a few flakes. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the snow. 
It had always been such a sharp contrast to home—fire and brimstone and blood-stained cloaks.
The air around her is silent and she watches them continue to fall, already beginning to cover the ground below. 
It captures the attention of others who walk outside with her. Tensing as the crowd grows, she withdraws her hand back inside her cloak, intent on walking across to the other side. Her next class starts soon, Advanced Potions with Snape. It wouldn’t be good to be late. 
Another sharp gust of wind catches in her hair and she suppresses a shiver, feeling goosebumps rise on her flesh beneath her robes. 
“Bloody hell, Raven, did you not hear the announcements yesterday about the weather?” 
The yell from across the bridge becomes rapidly closer, and Raven releases a sigh, able to recognize his voice from anywhere. Insufferable prat. Never mind the fact that no—she did not hear about the announcements yesterday about the weather. She’d been nose-deep in a book instead, but he doesn’t need to know that.  
“Honestly, Damian, I don’t have time for this. I’m going to be late—”
Raven turns on her heel, only to run straight into his chest. Barely managing to keep hold of the books in her arms, she finds herself unable to move when Damian traps her there. He takes his scarf in his hands and begins to wrap it snugly around her neck. The rough fabric brushes her nose and she gets a whiff of his expensive cologne. Some kind of earthy scent with a hint of spice. Ugh, why does he have to smell so good? 
“Don’t argue with me Raven, you could catch a cold walking out here without proper wear. You need to take care of yourself.” 
Feeling her cheeks growing red from more than just the cold, her eyes also widen when he takes off his beanie to place it on her head. Words of refusal catch in her throat as Wayne shakes his hair to rid the indentions, and unruly curls pile over his brows into his lashes. 
“Really, as a prefect you should be more responsible. Who would take your place if you get sick? Luna? You and I both know that would be a disaster.” 
The warmth of his beanie seeps into her scalp and the tips of her ears when he places it on her head. She blushes even further as he takes time to brush a stray hair out of her face. 
When emerald eyes peer into hers with expectation, she clears her throat, feigning irritation, “I’m not going to get sick, Damian, and besides I don’t see how this is any of your business.” 
Damian raises a brow, undeterred as snowflakes begin to fall into his hair. 
“As your colleague, I have an interest in your health. I’m not going to keep up with your prefect duties, and don’t you need all the time you can get to finish your application for the internship at the Ministry?” 
“Well yes but—wait how do you know about—”
“No excuses Ravenclaw, and you have…” Damian glances down at his watch, “less than five minutes to get across campus to make it to class.” 
“You’re an insufferable arse—”
“Four minutes, better hurry,” he flashes her a grin. 
Raven curses, not bothering to look back at him as she rushes in the opposite direction. 
Snape doesn’t tolerate tardiness. 
.
Raven still has the beanie after class and she hates how warm it is. 
She sheds the scarf shortly after class starts, with it being a hazard to potion making and all, but can’t bring herself to take off his beanie. 
That smell, his smell, has forever enraptured her senses. 
It distracts her the entire class, to the point that she accidentally picks up dried mallowsweet instead of dittany leaves for her Wiggenweld potion. Thank the gods Jinx catches her before she drops the ingredient into their cauldron. The mouthy Slytherin has more than a few choice words for her almost costly mistake. 
Raven, of course, is grateful despite the word-lashing. 
She can’t afford to fail any classes now that she’s getting ready to submit her application to the Ministry. Which reminds her that she needs to fill out the reference page next. Surely Professor McGonagall will agree to write one.  
She makes a mental note to ask during her office hours later in the week. 
Raven climbs the remaining stairs leading to the common room. As prefect she gets her own room, and it’s the greatest. She had made a small reading nook in the corner, right next to the window that overlooks the entire courtyard. And it’ll be the perfect spot to watch the snow. 
When she reaches the top, the bronze eagle knocker is already waiting. 
“Glittering points that downward thrust. Sparkling spears that never rust. What am I?” 
She shoulders her books onto her hip while she thinks. Then she gives the eagle a victorious smirk, “An icicle.” 
The eagle answers with a grinding noise while the lock turns. Then the door swivels open, and Raven steps inside. 
The waft of an amber and cinnamon candle hits her first, lightly covering the scent of incense and old books. She takes a deep breath, relishing in the way that it immediately soothes her. 
“Green and blue, they make a beautiful hue. Like the sea.”
Raven sighs and snags the beanie from her head. No reason to keep it on now that she’s inside. 
“Hey Luna,” Raven says, ignoring her previous statement. 
“I see more green in your future. Birds of a feather, stick together, through the weather.” 
Raven blinks, then snorts, “Cute. Speaking of the weather, have you seen the snow? It started falling right after lunch.” 
“Oh yes, very magical,” Luna lets out a dainty sigh, “there’s nothing like a snowfall at Hogwarts. Look—” she points out towards one of the glass windows in the common room, “the spirits have come to play. Such mischievous beings,” she says as her shoulders shake with mirth.
Raven turns in the direction Luna points, finding nothing but a blast of wind. It doesn’t phase her though. Luna’s unique ability allows her to see things that the average witch can’t, herself included. 
“And I’m sure they’re having the best time,” Raven throws a small smile at Luna, then nods politely as she walks towards her room. The rest of the way is silent, which she’s grateful for. 
She opens the door to her dormitory, places her books on her desk, and plops into the oversized papasan chair with a final sigh of relief. Beside her, the snow continues to fall in earnest outside the window. Its display across the courtyard is nothing short of grandeur. 
She kicks off her boots and waves a silent spell to light the nearest candle. Soon after the smell of peppermint fills the room and she breathes in deep, relishing in her safe space. In here there’s no one to pry, no one to question her attendance here because of her heritage. It’s just her, and whoever she wants to be at this moment. 
And right now she just wants to fall asleep reading and watching the snow, and it’s exactly what she plans to do. Until she spots Damian’s beanie on top of her books, bringing with it a conglomeration of emotions that Raven tries, and fails, to shut out. 
She can admit that there’s something between them. Just out of arm’s reach, and if she’d just be brave enough to stretch for it…
But she can’t, even if she wants to. There are a number of reasons why it’s a bad idea. The first is her reputation. Even if she’d never been a Death Eater, she's still the daughter of one. Associating with Damian Wayne, his name of which is very well-known in the wizarding world for helping defeat you know who  would be disastrous. A scandal even. Raven had previously thought she’d come to terms with it all—the knowledge that because of her father, there are so many doors that will never open. That being allowed to attend Hogwarts is a dream she’d never thought possible, and that it might be the only good thing to come from everything that had happened. 
Before her first day here she was ready, had sharpened her proverbial sword, and was prepared for the backlash.  
She’d never been prepared for the young Slytherin with dark, unruly curls and emerald eyes to introduce himself to her first. Or the smile greeting her that had taken her completely by surprise—confident and steady. 
She hadn’t been ready for Damian Wayne at all. 
Even now, years later, she’s not ready for the door that he doesn’t realize he’s trying to open. His hand is on the handle, already turning, and Raven really, really, wants him to. 
For once in her life, she wants to see that door open. 
But Trigon had already branded and sealed her fate years ago. 
Raven sighs, tearing her eyes away from the beanie while simultaneously banishing the boy who owns it from her thoughts. She’d have to see him again on prefect patrol tonight, but for now, she’s going to watch the snowfall and focus on the doors that she can open. Like the application to the Ministry that Professor McGonagall personally orchestrated for her as headmistress. 
Demons like her don’t deserve to dream of something more. 
Her eyelids begin to droop as she looks out her window, curled up in her chair under a blanket, and she slowly falls into a dreamless sleep. 
.
Damian’s already waiting for her in the great hall when they meet for patrol. When Raven reaches him she practically shoves his beanie at his chest, “Here, you can have this back now that we’re not outside anymore,” she tells him. 
He looks down at her, brows furrowed, before he pushes it back into her hands, “Keep it. I have a million more back in my dorm. Besides, who else is going to make sure you stay warm on the way to class?” 
“No one, and especially not you. I’m no one’s responsibility,” she huffs. 
Damian flashes her a look of irritation, “You’re not a responsibility, Raven, you’re a friend. Suck it up and take the beanie, or I’ll just keep bringing you more if I see you walking around without one.” 
Raven stares at him, then acquiesces, “Fine, I’ll keep this one—but don’t expect me to say thank you for harassing me into this.” 
“You’re welcome,” Damian gives her a light smirk, then gestures towards the staircase, “Now shall we get started? I’m pretty sure I heard some giggling earlier, probably those fifth years again.” 
“Again?” Raven sighs, pulling out her wand, “Better start with Lumos.” 
“Good idea.” 
They walk up the stairs in silence for a few minutes, both listening for the sound of footsteps. Sneaking out after hours has always been an appeal for students since the dawn of time. With the ball coming up, however, the mischievous antics have seemed to increase tenfold. The fifth years they caught making out in a dark corner last night is unfortunately just the tip of the iceberg. 
When they both enchant their spell, Raven can’t help but notice the way that the light of Damian’s wand bounces off the wall next to them and reflects onto his face. It highlights the angular shape of his cheekbones and gives his starking green eyes an ethereal glow. When he turns to look back at her she feigns nonchalance and waves her wand forward as it casts the hallway in a warm glow. 
“Looks like if they were here they’re long gone now,” Raven says as they turn a corner. 
Damian hums in agreement. “You know tomorrow is the last Quidditch game before the semester is over. We’re playing Griffyndor, are you going to watch?” he asks. 
Raven shrugs non-committedly, “Maybe, although reading in my room under a blanket sounds like more fun.” 
“Oh come on,” Damian turns to her fully, stopping her in the middle of the hallway, “You have to come. Whoever wins tomorrow takes the Quidditch Cup. Don’t you want to support your fellow prefect?” 
She rolls her eyes, “Since when do you care that I come to your game? I haven’t been to one all year.” 
“Well I haven’t asked before because I know you don’t like the cold, but this is the last game, the championship game, and I’ll feel better if you come,” he admits. 
Raven turns her head to cover the light dusting of pink heating up her cheeks because OhMyGodsHeKnowsIDon’tLikeTheColdAndHeGaveMeHisBeanieWithoutASecondThought.
“I don’t see how me being there will make you feel better, or even help you win,” she says, shoving down her initial embarrassment.  
“Does there have to be a reason why? I want you to be there, you can be my good luck charm. I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” he says smoothly with a smirk growing on his face. 
“Oh yeah? How so?” she asks sarcastically and starts to patrol once more.  
“How about a wager if you come watch me play?”
That stops in her tracks. Then she turns to him fully, until they’re face to face. The warm glow from their wands cast a more intimate light around them as they look at each other. Raven has to tilt her chin up to look him in his eyes, just to see that they’re filled with something dangerous. It sends a shiver down her spine. 
“Okay, I’m listening,” she pretends to pick at a piece of lint on her uniform. 
Damian’s smile turns wicked, “If Slytherin loses then I’ll owe you a favor. Any favor you choose. Anytime. And I have to do it, no matter what.” 
It sounds like a trap, and if she knows Damian, then she knows that he definitely has something up his sleeve. She might be a demon, but he’s the devil. Cunning and devious and sinfully attractive . 
And she’s about to make a deal with him. 
“And if you win, then what do you want?” 
His eyes darken in satisfaction, and it lights a fire in her lower abdomen. She tightens her hold on her wand as his tongue darts out to lick his lips before speaking. 
“If I win, I want a date to the Yule Ball.” 
The words no way are immediately on her lips, ready to be spoken, but at the last second, she stops herself. A date to the ball is a small price to pay for the chance for a favor from Damian Wayne, who’s family most definitely has the influence to help her get the internship at the Ministry. So what if there’s a part of her that wants to go with him? Even more importantly, he wants to go to the ball with her, and there’s another part of her that’s thrilled by that. 
“Deal,” she says, “I’ll come to the game tomorrow, and if you win then I’ll go to the ball with you. But if I win , then you’re going to help me write my essay for my application.”
“Deal. See you tomorrow then, Raven. Don’t forget to wear my scarf too,” he says playfully. 
Raven rolls her eyes. “Oh bugger off you prat. Let’s hurry up and finish, I’m knackered. I had to do room inspections early this morning before class.” 
“Right, one more hallway,” Damian replies, leading the way back to where they started. 
The new swagger in his step as he walks away doesn't escape her notice one bit. 
.
It’s the first time she’s attended a Quidditch game since…well since her first day at Hogwarts. Back when she was still under the magnifying glass of the public eye and had not so subtly been run out of the stands. 
This time it’s different. Most are polite, with the occasional glare or two from families who had been affected the most by Voldemort’s short reign. After a decade though, the retaliations have seemed to settle down. Now she can enjoy the Quidditch game in the stands without any fear for her life. 
Last night the snow turned into sleet, so each step under her boots is accompanied by the loud crunch of ice. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her thickest cloak, thankful that she listened to Damian and had decided to wear both the scarf and beanie again. At the very least she’ll fit in with the rest of Slytherin, who’ve already started their gimmicks in the stands against the Gryffindors. 
She can see each puff of breath as she continues the arduous walk through the ice, grumbling to herself about how magic exists for a reason and at the very least someone could have shoveled the sidewalk. Then she casts a silent heating charm around her hands, relieved at the immediate warmth filling her pockets. 
Finding a spot in the stands is more difficult than she thought, and after a couple of minutes of searching, she has half a mind to turn back around completely. She’ll just tell Damian later that their bet is off when she hears a familiar voice call out over the rest. 
“Hey, Ravenclaw, where ya goin’?” 
Raven turns to find Jinx a couple of rows high, smiling big and cat-like. She shoves her way through the crowd to reach her, then tugs on her arm, “You can’t just stand there and wait for people to move, you have to make room yourself,” she says, pushing back through to her row. Jinx barks at the few people who don’t move to get out of the way, making quick work of the path back up. 
“You’re a lifesaver,” Raven tells her when they get settled. 
“Yeah, yeah, you can make it up to me by not fucking up our next potion’s class. Why’re you here anyway? I’ve never seen you at a Quidditch game before.” 
Raven bites her lip before deciding to tell her the truth, “Damian asked me to come watch him play.” 
“Are you serious?” Jinx raises her brows and snorts, “That’s hilarious. Pansy is going to be pissed. She’s been bragging for months about how her family is trying to negotiate a marriage contract with Wayne.” 
“They still do those?” Raven asks, befuddled while declining whatever mysterious liquid Jinx offers from her flask. 
“Yeah, the purebloods do. Last I heard the Wayne’s weren’t very receptive though. I’m sure Damian’s determined to make his own choices,” Jinx flashes her a look from the side. 
“You can’t tell anyone, I don’t want to cause Damian or anyone else any trouble. Just being here is enough to get people talking,” Raven says. 
“So what? Fuck ‘em,” Jinx takes a small swig from her bottle, “Most people here don’t have anything better to do than talk anyway. They don’t know shite about the real world and probably never will.”
Raven admires Jinx’s blas é outlook on life. Her indifference gives her a confidence that shows in her stance, not caring about what anyone thinks about her or anything else for that matter. While it’s an attitude that Raven has yearned for herself, she knows that there’s also repercussions to not caring about the world or anyone in it. For her the consequences are astronomical. 
“Maybe not, but their families have real influence over my life, and I’d rather not get caught in the middle of another political war.” 
“Fair enough,” Jinx shrugs, “I won’t say anything if that makes you feel better.” 
“Thank you.” 
There’s a short pause, then Jinx asks, “Soo, you haven’t seen Wayne in a uniform yet have you?” 
“No?” Raven asks, uncertain by the motive behind her question. 
Jinx’s mischievous grin is back on her face as she takes yet another sip from her flask. “Oh, you’re in for a real treat. Just wait, they’re supposed to start in a few minutes.” 
Raven gives her a look, one that she hopes shows her irritation, as they wait. Everyone else seems to quiet down too, anticipating their entrance. 
When they come out, Raven has to physically stop herself from dropping her jaw. Dear gods. Damian’s tight uniform long-sleeve shirt clings to the muscles of his arms and his chest. His trousers hug his body like it’s a second skin. The roar of all the cheering around her can’t distract her from the way he glides through the air on his broom—like flying is second nature. The way his gloved fingers grip the handle ignites something inside of her, and she flushes. 
Damian flies around in a circle around the stadium, and their eyes meet when he passes their stand. He flashes her a smile and then winks, and Raven’s surprised that she doesn’t just melt into a puddle right there on the spot. She offers a small wave and smile of her own in return, just before he moves on. 
“Hot right?” Jinx elbows her in the middle and Raven scowls, saying nothing. She crosses her arms and watches the rest of the players fly in. 
Beside her Jinx screams when the commentator introduces the Slytherins. Damian’s name is called last as the seeker. Raven knows the basics of Quidditch, and that it means that he’ll be spending the entirety of the game trying to find the snitch. 
The game is surprisingly engaging, and towards the end Raven finds herself standing on her feet, leaning towards the field. The two teams are neck and neck, and Gryffindor scores with under a minute left. 
Just when it looks like Gryffindor is going to win, Damian comes hurling down in the middle of the field. He crashes in the ice-covered dirt, and everyone is dead silent as he rolls to a stop. Then he throws his arm in the air, revealing the snitch captured in his hand. 
The commentator blares through the speaker a moment later, announcing Slytherin as the champion. 
Raven laughs in disbelief as the crowd around her storms the field. She can’t believe he managed to pull off a win like that. Then her heart drops into her stomach as reality sets in. She has to go to the Yule Ball with Damian Wayne, and she doesn’t even own a dress. 
Looks like she has some shopping to do. 
She thinks about waiting around to congratulate Damian, but the swarm around him and the rest of the team is growing rapidly. It’s fun to watch for a minute as everyone jumps up and down around him, patting him on the back as he raises the Quidditch Cup in the air. The toothy grin on his face warms her in a way that her charms never will.  
Eventually, she turns away to make the trek back to her dorm. 
It’s much colder now as the sun is beginning to set, and more slippery too. Unfortunately, her combat boots only help so much. She’s about a half mile out when one step slides against a particularly slick piece of ice. She loses her balance, and prepares to fall when a hand grips her elbow to help steady her. 
“I’m going to have to follow you around everywhere to make sure you’re taken care of aren’t I?” 
Raven turns in shock to see Damian behind her, easing her back onto both feet, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating your big win?” she asks instead of answering his question. 
“I wanted to thank my good luck charm for coming to my game, and to make sure she doesn’t back out of our bet,” he says with a tease, appraising her clothes. She can see the approval in his gaze to see her wearing his attire. It makes her feel a bit weak in the knees, but she decides to blame that on the ice. 
“Don’t worry, I don’t have any intentions of backing out. I’m a witch of my word,” she says. It’s one of the only things she has. “I’ll have to take a trip to Hogsmeade for a dress though.”
“Get a green one,” he says quickly, “You look good in green.” 
“Noted,” she replies, sending him a smirk, “You know if we show up at the ball together people will talk? I don’t exactly have the best reputation around here.” 
Damian shrugs, “You’re not your father, and people will eventually see that.” He starts walking with her, and Raven is highly aware that he has not let go of her elbow. 
“Well, you may be the only one,” she quips back. 
“All the better, then I can keep you all to myself,” his grin is bordering on cocky, like he has a special secret that no one else knows. Raven chokes back on a retort, unable to hold back the flush at the back of her neck. It’s a good thing she covered up with his scarf. 
Then she sighs, “Damian, you know it’s going to be more than just talking. People are going to come for me when they see us together. Some will probably try to ruin whatever chances I have of a future.” 
He’s silent for a few minutes, the only sound around on their walk is the crunch of their boots on the ice. A light wind breezes between them, and Raven suppresses a shudder from the cold. Damian must notice, because he presses his side in closer to hers, sharing his warmth. 
“Raven, don’t you think it’s time to show everyone that they’re wrong about you? You shouldn’t have to hide anymore. I won’t let anyone bother you at the ball, I promise.” 
Raven chews the inside of her cheek, mulling over his words. For so long she’s been hypervigilant about everything she says or does, fearful of how some people will interpret her intentions. Maybe Damian’s right, and it’s time to stop running. How long will she let her father and his actions hang over her head? 
“I’ll hold you to that promise—but you’re buying my dress. If everyone’s going to be staring at us I might as well be the best looking one there.” 
Damian’s laugh echoes in the cold air, and Raven can feel his shoulders shake against her, “Deal,” he says. 
Raven promptly nods, and the rest of the walk back they talk about plans to go shopping next week. By the time they reach the entrance to Hogwarts Raven realizes that she’s no longer cold. 
She feels like Damian has just lit every part of her on fire. 
.
Raven is nervous when she reaches the top of the stairs. Below, the ball is in full swing, and Damian’s waiting for her. She wrings her gloved hands together, before swiping a ringlet from her pinned hair out of her line of vision. Then she places her hand at her chest, just above the sweetheart neckline of her sparkling emerald gown. The sheer, matching cape clasped around her neck feels a little tight. She takes a moment to rearrange it around her before letting it fall delicately around her shoulders and down her open back. 
She has half a mind to walk away, and she probably would if it hadn’t taken her all of two hours to get ready. That and the thought of disappointing Damian sends a pang through her chest. 
I can do this. Just a short walk down the stairs where the entirety of the student body can see her, and then she can pull Damian into a corner and hide the rest of the evening. She takes a deep breath and takes the bottom of her dress into her hands, lifting just an inch so that she doesn’t trip over her heeled feet. 
When she steps into the limelight she nearly grimaces as the chatter seems to die down all at once, all to stare at her. She can feel her heartbeat hard and fast in her chest, and her breaths are coming in short pants when she spots Damian at the bottom of the stairs. 
He looks…awestruck. It takes her by surprise, and it distracts her from the rest of the stares. She focuses on him, and his reassuring smile, and by the time she reaches him she’s not so nervous anymore. 
“You are stunning,” he says, reaching out for her to take his hand. She does, and he starts to lead them to a less-crowded area. 
“You’re looking handsome yourself,” she tells him. His black suit and robe must be tailored to his exact measurements, because it fits him perfectly. There’s not a hair out of place, and the Wayne insignia ring on his forefinger shines bright. He looks every part the eligible bachelor that Jinx says he is. 
“Thank you,” he says, pulling them into a corner that’s out of the foot traffic to give her a moment to collect herself. Raven takes the time to admire him fully, all the way down to his leather Santoni shoes. He’s so gorgeous he’s hard to look at. 
“And thank you for coming,” he murmurs somewhere close to her ear, his breath sending goosebumps rising on her arms. 
“Don’t thank me yet, I’m sure I’ll get you back for this somehow,” she teases, grinning at his snort. 
“And I look forward to that, but for now I’d love to show you off on the dance floor. Is that okay?” he asks, aware of her earlier unease. 
“As long as you’re leading because I have two left feet,” she says. 
“Deal,” he replies, taking her hand in his again, “I won’t let you fall Raven, you have my word.” 
“Good,” she says, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. There’s still a lot of staring as they walk by, but for some reason it doesn’t bother her as much with her hand in Damian’s. 
The song starting is slower, and the dance is a simple waltz so she’s confident enough to not trip. Still, she relies heavily on Damian’s queue as he twirls them around. After a few minutes, she gets lost in the sparkle of his eyes and the way they hold her own. They dance for what feels like close to an hour, as one song blurs into another, but time doesn’t exist at this moment. They’re just wrapped up in each other, and everything else just fades away. 
Then he dips her, and the outline of his frame is encased in the glow from the chandelier above them. The sight of him is beautiful and breathtaking, and it’s everything she never knew she wanted. 
When he brings them back upright and the song ends, they’re nearly nose to nose. Something between them shifts, and Damian’s eyes dip lower from her eyes to her lips. His nose brushes against hers, almost lovingly. She’s certain that he’s about to kiss her, and she’s about to kiss him back, and that tonight is something she’ll never forget. 
Their lips are just about to meet when someone from behind her bumps into her side, and Raven tumbles over. Then Astoria Greengrass is in her face, babbling an apology just as the flute in her hand pours an unknown liquid over the front of Raven’s gown. 
Damian, true to his word, keeps her from falling, but Raven can’t find the words to thank him—too focused on what could have been. Now the moment is lost forever, and they both know it. 
“Oh my gods, I cannot believe how clumsy I’ve been,” Astoria fusses over Raven’s gown, “I am so sorry, truly, I’m completely mortified. Please, let me help you to the ladies room.” 
“No thank you,” she says, wrenching out of her grasp, “I’m perfectly fine going by myself, although I appreciate your offer.” 
“If you insist, but really it’s no trouble to tag along—”
“Again, thank you, but I’m really okay.” Raven takes a step backward, picking up on the malice blaring in Astoria’s aura. She’s about to escape from the scene entirely when Astoria seizes her wrist in a tight grip. 
Then Damian breaks her hold and pulls Astoria away from her. He growls something in her face that Raven can’t quite understand, but she doesn’t need to. The rage clear in his eyes tells her everything she needs to know. That what happened isn’t an accident, it’s sabotage. 
Damian sends Astoria scurrying off with a squeak of terror, but Raven is already turning away. The front of her dress is covered in something sticky and although it’ll only take a second to fix it with a spell she desperately needs a moment alone. 
Damian tries to talk to her, “Raven, I’m so sorry—” 
She cuts him off, not able to take another apology, especially from him, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back okay?” 
“I’ll go with you.” 
“No,” she waves him off, “I promise it’ll just be a minute. Please, excuse me,” she rushes off, not waiting to hear his reply. Not able to stand there a second longer, because she had been so close to a dream she thought was too far out of reach. And then it had been taken from her. 
Raven pushes the door open to the bathroom, heels clacking on the linoleum. When she reaches the sink she takes hold of it with both hands and looks into the mirror. Her chest is heaving with panicked breaths and bites her lip to keep from sobbing. Her hair is askew from her dash from the dance floor, and her cape is hanging haphazardly over one shoulder. At least her makeup is still nice, and as long as she doesn’t cry her mascara should stay put. She focuses on the spill next, murmuring a few charms to clean it up after getting her breathing under control. 
She’s a few minutes away from deeming herself capable of going back out when one of the bathroom stalls opens. Pansy Parkinson walks out in a slinky black gown with a villainous smirk growing on her face as their eyes meet in the mirror. 
“It looks like you missed a spot, need some help?” she asks haughtily. 
“No thank you,” Raven ignores her in favor of soaping up her hands to wash, “I’m managing just fine.” 
“Actually I don’t think you are. Do you know how many people are vying for Damian’s attention? Compared to them you’re just a drop in the bucket.”
Raven stills, anger heating up her face, before continuing to wash her hands, “I think I’ll let Damian decide who he wants to give his attention to.” 
Pansy draws closer, “You might think this is just a game, but it’s not. You think what Astoria just did to you is bad? That’s just the beginning if you continue down this road. I’m only going to warn you once, demon. Stay away from Damian Wayne.” 
Her hands shake with thinly controlled rage as she washes the water off, which she knows Pansy assumes is fear from her smug smile. Raven takes the time to dry her hands before she turns back around and faces the Slytherin directly, “Trust me when I say I know all too well that this isn’t a game, but you don’t really know who I am. I’ve walked a very thin line to get where I am here at Hogwarts. I still walk that line. Every. Day.” She pauses to ensure she has Pansy’s full attention, “If you do anything to mess that up for me, I will have nothing left. And when I have nothing left, I’ll show you just how much of a demon I can be.” 
The color slowly drains from Pansy’s face, and Raven cocks her head innocently, “You’re looking a little pale, Pansy. Why don’t you take a minute to freshen up? I think I’m going to go out and enjoy the rest of my evening . ”
That seems to bring the girl’s color back redder than before as she grits her teeth, gripping her clutch so hard Raven can see the white of her knuckles. “You’re going to regret the way you just spoke to me.” 
Raven rolls her eyes, “The only thing I’m regretting right now is entertaining this conversation with you.” 
“You have no idea who you’re messing with. My family can make your life a living hell, and if you stand in my way then I’ll make sure of that myself.”
Raven's laugh is hard and cruel, “You’ll never be able to make my life worse than the hell I’ve already lived through. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go back out to my date . Unless you want to take this up with the headmistress instead?” 
A myriad of emotions cross Pansy’s face, before landing on something lethal. Her eyes narrow as she steps close enough that Raven can smell her rosy perfume, “Watch your back, demon filth,” Pansy hisses, pushing past her and storming out of the bathroom. 
Although Raven should feel victorious for standing up to Pansy, she mostly just feels on edge. This is her reality if she wants to be with Damian. Always looking over her shoulder for someone that’s desperate to take her place. Forced to play the role of a viper and strike back twice as fast to protect herself. 
She takes another minute to collect herself in the mirror before following Pansy out of the bathroom shortly after. Then Damian is immediately at her side, handing her a cup of water, “Are you okay?” he asks.
Raven musters a smile, and accepts the glass gratefully, “Yeah I’m okay, just some girl talk.” 
“Pansy?” 
“Yep.” 
Damian runs a hand through his hair, disheveling a few of the strands, “I should tell you that her family’s been trying to make a marriage contract happen between us for years, but my father’s turned them down three times already. I don’t think they know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“So it seems,” she says, slightly amused. 
“Do you want to go for a walk outside? I think we could both use the fresh air.” 
“Yeah,” she breathes, “That would be great.”
As Damian guides her towards the exit leading to the school gardens, a commotion catches her attention. Just out of her peripheral vision, before the party fades from view, she spots Jinx across the room, tossing her own drink at Astoria. 
Raven suppresses a chuckle as a funny feeling in her chest grows. So maybe she isn’t completely alone in this. Maybe she has a few friends who won’t hesitate to defend her. That’s a comforting thought, and she takes it with her on the walk, allowing it to shroud around her like a shield. 
Maybe demons can dream after all. 
The first thing she notices when stepping outside is the sky. It’s clear, nearly a full moon, and the stars are just as bright. It bathes the gardens in a celestial glow, and the snow covered grounds makes it all look surreal. 
She takes a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air. It helps to clear her mind, especially as Damian’s hand settles on the small of her back to steer her towards a gazebo outlooking the central yard. It’s covered in fairy lights, and she’s delighted to find that there’s a warming charm when she steps inside. 
“Feeling better?” Damian asks, his hand traveling up to brush her arm. Raven nods while enjoying the view. 
“Much, this was a good idea,” she bumps him lightly, “Thanks.”
“No need to thank me, what happened earlier was my fault. I should have known that Pansy and Astoria were planning something.”
Raven props her elbows up against the wooden rail, and looks up at the sky, “No, it wasn’t your fault,” she glances back at him, “I’ve been dealing with discrimination since my first day here. This really isn’t anything new.” 
“Still, I wish that I could have protected you from it, somehow.”
Raven smiles at his blatant concern, “I used to think that if I stayed quiet and kept my head down that everyone would just leave me alone. Try and graduate without a fuss,” she chuckles drily, “I was stupid to think maybe that could be enough.” 
Damian covers one of his hands with hers, capturing her attention.“You’re definitely not stupid Raven, but you are a fighter. You’re one of the bravest people I know. To have hope like that, even knowing that people might treat you differently because of what happened? That’s admirable.” 
Something stirs in Raven’s chest at his words. A spark that lights a fire within her, “You’re right, I am a fighter. I deserve to have the same opportunities as everyone else, regardless of my family name. I can dream about anything I want—and I’m starting with that internship.” 
Damian’s smile is wide, “That’s my girl.”
Her stomach makes a little flip at his words, but she doesn’t let that stop her from throwing her arms around his neck, “Thank you Damian.” 
His arms tighten around her after getting over his initial shock from her touch, and his chin rests gently on the top of her head, “You’re welcome Raven,” he leans back to look down at her, “Now how about you tell me what really happened in the bathroom, and maybe I’ll consider giving the next book in that series you’ve been reading all semester.” 
Raven ignores the fact that Damian obviously keeps up with her reading habits, and looks at him with a raised brow, “The next book doesn’t come out until next summer.”
“I may or may not have the author’s copy.” 
“You do not,” her eyes light up at his smirk, “How did you manage to get one?”
“I pulled a few strings,” he trails, choosing not to indulge any further. 
“I cannot believe you!” 
“I’ll show it to you later. It was going to be your Christmas present, but now it’s my bargaining chip.” 
Raven sends him a mock glare, “That’s not fair, it’s my present.”
“Nope, it’s not fair at all,” Damian grins, “So spill first—then you’ll get your present.” 
She bites her lip, “You have to swear that you won’t do or say anything about it to anyone else.” Even though she had threatened Pansy earlier, she never intended to say anything to Damian about their conversation. 
“So something did happen?” his eyes bunch together with concern, “Did she or Astoria hurt you?” 
“No, no one hurt me,” Raven sighs, “I’ll tell you what happened but I’m serious. I don’t want anyone getting in trouble, that’ll just make everything worse.” 
“I promise,” Damian holds out his hand, “Pinky promise.” 
With a smile she interloops her pinky with his, “And you better be serious about that book. I expect it to be in my hands before the night’s over.” 
“Don’t worry, we’ll go right up to my dorm to get it after you tell me everything. ”
Raven rolls her eyes and feigns annoyance, but the grin obvious on her face betrays her true feelings. So they sit down on the closest bench under the gazebo, and Damian leans in close as Raven starts to recall her confrontation with Pansy. She lays a hand softly on his arm when his hands clench, nearly shaking with unbridled and righteous rage. They continue to talk until they’re both calmer, and ready to put the events from the evening behind them. Then their conversation evolves to other things—her internship, his family—everything and anything they can think about. 
The longer they spend together the harder it gets for Raven to keep her hands to herself. She reaches out to rub a comforting hand down his arm as he talks about the strained relationship with his parents. Then she smacks his shoulder when he jokes about that one Niffler incident last year. (They had chased it down for nearly an hour before trapping it in a corner…right before it jumped right on top of her head). 
He listens intently as she talks about her wishes of becoming a part of something bigger than herself. Together they dream about the world they want to create. 
As it starts to get later and the warming charms begin to fade, Raven follows Damian back inside and through the halls to his dorm. She waits outside while he grabs her book, and then together he takes her hand and they walk to Ravenclaw common room. 
Students are filtering in and out of the halls, all still filled with an excited energy from the night. Raven’s thankful they’re not on patrol duty tonight, and she holds her book close to her chest with the hand that’s not holding Damian's. 
Witches and wizards whisper to each other as they walk by, but Raven doesn’t care. She’s too focused on the warm, fuzzy feeling growing in her chest as Damian’s thumb strokes lightly over the back of her hand. 
The door to the common room is wide open when they get there. Damian insists on walking her to her room, and from the amount of inter-house couples visiting she figures it won’t hurt to add another Slytherin to the mix. There’s a part of her that’s a little anxious about Damian seeing her room, but the larger part that just wants him closer keeps her walking. 
She lets go of Damian’s hand to open the door, missing his warmth, and she holds it open wider for him to follow her inside. 
“Yeah, this is almost exactly what I imagined your room would look like,” Damian says, voice full of amusement. His eyes quickly scan her room, taking note of the high black shelves—each stacked to the top with books. Another in the corner is full of potion ingredients. Her walls are painted a dark navy blue (her house colors of course), and her gray blackout curtains are pulled back, putting the courtyard below on full display. 
“Oh bugger off,” Raven places her newest novel on the desk, fingers lingering on the cover, “You know how much I love books and dark colors.” 
“That’s true, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a book in your hands,” he teases back. 
“Well they’re book free for now,” Raven wiggles her fingers at him, “but I don’t know if I’ll be able to say the same in the next few minutes.” 
He smiles, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Well I’m glad you like your present. Happy Christmas Raven.” 
“Happy Christmas Damian. I feel bad though, I didn’t get you anything.” 
“Of course you did. Tonight with you was my Christmas present, the best one yet.” 
There’s something in his eyes that looks like before when they were out on the dance floor and enraptured in each other. Now they’re in the safety of her room with no one to interrupt them, and it sends Raven’s heart racing. She wraps a hand around the back of her neck, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 
Damian steps closer, and Raven sucks in a soft breath. She so desperately wants to grab him by his lapels and pull him forward to meet her lips. How many times had she daydreamed about snogging him? Too many to count. Now that he’s right here, inches away and leaning in, she feels herself pulling away. Despite how perfect she imagines it will be because Pansy’s words are stuck in the back of her mind, telling her that all she’ll do is hold him back. 
And her heart breaks just a little when he pulls back too, concern clearly written on his face, but all she can do is turn away. 
“I think we both should get some rest,” she whispers, her voice shaky but clear enough for Damian to realize that this is goodbye. 
He looks at her and Raven thinks for a moment that he might argue. Nothing has ever stopped him from doing just that before, but he doesn’t. Instead he sighs, “You’re probably right,” he says, taking her hand in his once more. Then he brings it up to his lips and gives it just the barest of kisses before letting it go, “sweet dreams Raven.” 
“Goodnight Damian.” 
She has to bite her lip as she watches him turn away to keep herself from calling him back. When he shuts the door she slumps on the bed, the fabric of her dress crinkles as she sits, and she drops her face into her hands. 
She spends the rest of the night wondering what would have happened if she didn’t care about what anyone thought and just kissed him anyway. 
.
The fall out of last night with Pansy isn’t as bad as Raven thought it would be. 
Rumors fly of course (both literally and figuratively), but she’s surprised to find that just as many people seem to take her side as they do Pansy’s. 
Regardless, being at the center of attention is always something that Raven tries her best to avoid. So when witches and wizards flock to her from all houses in between class changes she’s nearly at her wits end by the time she gets to her last one with Snape. She sits down with a huff as some students turn back to look at her. After a well-placed glare they turn back just as quickly. 
Jinx applauds her, “Nice glare Ravenclaw, you have a lot of Slytherin potential.”
“Thanks,” Raven grumbles, “But I’m trying to distance myself from Slytherin right now.” 
“This doesn’t have to do with a certain Slytherin prefect and Quidditch cup champion does it?” 
“How did you know? It’s not like the entire school is talking about us right now,” she mocks, then sends Jinx a smirk, “Although I will say there’s a lot of people also talking about how you humiliated Astoria last night.” 
The smile Jinx gives her is downright evil, “You don’t know how happy that makes me. If we’re being real though she had it coming since first year.”
In a rare moment of vulnerability Raven gives her a warm smile, “Thanks for sticking up for me Jinx, that honestly means a lot.” 
“And I’ll do it again,” Jinx flips her vibrant pink hair over her shoulder, “Hey listen. This thing you kind of have with Damian—it’s good you know that right? I saw him at lunch, he doesn't care about the rumors. He just asked about you, and if you were okay. ” 
Raven sighs, “I like him, Jinx. A lot. I just…I’m not good for him. I have so much baggage, I’m afraid I’m going to drag him down.” 
“You’re an idiot, and I mean that in the best way,” Jinx rolls her eyes, “Anyone would be lucky to have you.” 
“Awh, how sweet of you to say,” Raven says drily. 
“I know, I’m really channeling my inner Hufflepuff. Don’t expect that to last though.” 
Raven shakes her head, but smiles nonetheless as Professor Snape starts class with hiss to quiet down. 
They’re well into creating their next potion when Jinx bumps her shoulder after handing over the fluxweed. 
“Just think about giving it a chance.” 
Raven doesn’t have to ask her what she means. Damian’s been the only thing she’s been able to think about all day. She nods, and they finish their potion together in silence. The rest of class goes by fast and she makes the trip back to the common room after telling Jinx goodbye. Then she shuts her door to her room and the rest of the world, deigning to read her book in isolation as everyone else starts to pack. 
She doesn’t know when she’ll see Damian next, but she can’t quite make herself go out to search for him yet. 
Mostly because she’s afraid of what he’ll say if she tells him the truth.
.
There’s only one part of the year the corridors at Hogwarts are empty, and Raven looks forward to it every time it comes around. Everyone else leaves to go home for Christmas break, all except her of course, but that’s okay. Hogwarts is more of a home than her father’s manor ever was. Now especially. It’s quiet and calm, and safe . 
Soon everyone will be back for the spring semester—but at least for now she can breathe again.
For the first time in a while she finds herself relaxing in front of the fireplace in the living area. Tucking her fuzzy-socked feet underneath her, she leans back into the couch with her wool blanket. While pulling out the book Damian gave her she hums to herself with gratification at the snow falling steadily outside the nearby window. The only thing that can make this perfect is—
“Tea?” A voice calls out behind her. Raven turns, cooling her features to hide her surprise when she finds Damian there, with a mug in each hand. 
“Damian? I didn’t know you were still here?” She takes the cup with thanks, bringing it to her nose and breathing in. There’s a hint of something herbal and sweet—almost fruity like apples, and it’s wonderful. Chamomile. 
“I’ll be leaving this evening,” he says, taking a seat on the couch next to her, “I wanted to stay back for a bit before I go.” 
She thinks about asking why, but she knows that Damian is about to tell her himself. She feels the undercurrent of his emotions in his aura, each one just as complex as the other. There’s something brewing underneath, bubbling as he draws closer. 
“Thank you,” she murmurs, taking an experimental sip. It fills her with warmth and sends tingles down to the tips of her toes. She knows they should talk about why she’s been avoiding him. She opens her mouth to give him an apology when he cuts her off, 
“I have another present for you,” Damian says, and Raven notices the letter in his hand for the first time. She raises her brows, tentatively reaching out for it when Damian hands it to her. 
“What is it?” she asks, turning it over. The Wayne’s wax seal is stamped onto the back and her fingers brush over it. It’s gold with a large W in the middle, surrounded by a crest and a sword at the top, intertwined with vines. 
“It’s my father’s recommendation letter. I told him about how you’ve been wanting to apply for the internship at the Ministry a while ago and he wanted to help.”
Raven feels her heart skip a beat. After Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Snape both agreed to write her a recommendation, she only needs one more. A letter from Bruce Wayne is pretty much a guaranteed acceptance. This is her opportunity to show the Ministry that she’s not her father. This is life changing. It’s everything. It’s…too much. 
“Damian I can’t accept this, it’s too generous,” she holds the letter back out to him, “I don’t deserve this.” 
“Raven,” Damian says, capturing her wrist in his hand to stop her, “You’re going to be fighting to prove people they’re wrong about you for the rest of your life, all because of your father. I get a chance to help because of mine. Take it, because this will be an uphill battle. You’re going to need all the help you can get, and it’s okay to let us—let me help.” 
Tears well in the corners of her eyes. Never has she been presented with such generosity without someone trying to serve their own self-interests. The sincerity in Damian’s voice is overwhelming. He wants to help her because he can, and that’s it. 
“I don’t know how I could ever thank either of you for this,” she says, taking a shaky breath. 
Damian smiles and tenderly reaches out to brush her hair out of her face and behind her ears. “You can come visit home with me and thank him yourself if you want. Everyone would love to have you, especially Alfred. He’s been wanting to meet you ever since I came home talking all about you during first year.”
Raven laughs through her tears, shaking her head, because this can’t possibly be real. Except it is, and Damian’s smile is hopeful, mirroring the hope now blooming in her chest, and his thumb is brushing away the tear that rolls down her face. 
She doesn’t know how this will go—doesn’t even know how to navigate a courtship, but she does know she wants to try. Damian’s worth it. 
“Deal.” 
His grin lights up the entire room, “Can I kiss you now?”
Raven nods enthusiastically, “Yes, please, I want that very much.” 
“Good,” he murmurs against her mouth, “Because you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to snog you.” 
“I think I have an idea,” she says, closing the rest of the distance. 
Their lips meet for the first time, and her eyes slide shut as she breathes in his scent. The same one from his beanie that had driven her crazy. Just like the way he holds her tight as if she’ll disappear forever in an instant, and the maddening path of his hands sliding up and under her sweater to feel the bare skin of her lower back. 
When he deepens their kiss, and she moans softly into his mouth, she thinks about how she never wants to be sane again.
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