#auror!reader

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Azkaban Prison - Sirius Black X Female Reader

Title: Azkaban Prison

Sirius Black X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Rita Skeeter (Mentioned), Harry (Mentioned), James (Mentioned), Lily (Mentioned), Pince (Mentioned), Voldy (Mentioned), and Reader's parents (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 1,903

Warnings: Azkaban, sarcastic Reader, Auror Reader, very brief mention to drinking/partying, crying, sort of sad, set during the second book/movie, nicknames, banter, teasing, flirting, slight angst, and fluff

"Dropping off another one, Miss L/N?"

You gave the man at the security desk a stiff nod and an equally stiff smile, "Yep! I just don’t know where they keep coming from." You answered sarcastically as the witch you brought in was taken to her cell.

The man, whose name tag spelled out 'Stanley Parloose,' only grumpily nodded before he gestured for your wand. "Wand, please."

"Alright, don't get your trousers in a twist," You grumbled, taking out your wand and handing it to the man, who then sat it on the Wand Weigher.

"Is that all you are here to do?" Stanley asked, looking up at you, past the rims of his thickly-framed glasses; his bright blue eyes almost judging you as you rocked on the balls of your feet.

Looking off, you pretended to think about your answer before giving the man a grin, "I don't know... You wouldn't allow me to go up a couple of floors, would you?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as the man sighed heavily.

"You're the middle-tier Auror, Miss L/N. What do you think the answer is?" Stanley asked boredly, resting his head in his hand as he looked up at you.

You pouted slightly, crossing your arms over your chest, "I think the answer is no, but it's worth a shot every time." You muttered as the man snorted, looking down at his paperwork.

"Correct again, Miss L/N," Stanley teased, smirking as you scoffed.

"I could have you fired, Mr. Parloose." You snapped, watching as the man's smirk grew.

"You may work for the Ministry, Miss L/N," Stanley sang, laughing when you huffed, "But, you know that your name is not on the list. I can not permit you to travel up there for you are-"

"I'm not someone with strong ties or anything. Yeah, I know. It's bollocks." You tilted your head as you stared down at the man, "But... You know... I think I can have Rita Skeeter interview you some time..." You trailed off, watching as the man's eyes widened slightly before he cleared his throat.

"Rita Skeeter? You know her?" He asked, trying to hide the fact that he was very intrigued by the idea of an interview by the witch.

You smiled, knowing that you won this battle, "Of course, I do! She's a very dear friend of mine. We are like this." You emphasized, crossing your fingers together to show how close you were to the - annoying - woman. "I'm sure she'd love to do an exclusive interview with the security guard of the most formidable wizard prison, who also allows me access to the floor I'm not supposed to be on." You told him, his eyes widened even more as you stepped forward to lean lightly on his desk, pretending to examine your nails.

"You're bluffing..."

"Am I?" You countered, staring down at the man, gaze unwavering, "You know... She once told me that she had a thing for brunettes. And that she may or may not be single." You drew the fishing line, and Stanley took the lure.

"Fine. You can go up there for no more than ten minutes. No more, no less." He told you, pointing his quill at you with a less-than-threatening glare.

You grinned, smiling bright, "Thanks, Stanny." You sang, pushing off the desk and turning on your heel.

"Hey! Don't call me that!" You heard the man yell as he glared at you.

"Whatever you say, Stanny-boy!" You yelled back.

You quickly made your way up and up the tower of Azkaban, your mind elsewhere as you thought about your boyfriend. It had been years since you had last seen him, eleven years to be exact.

You remembered the last night you saw Sirius Black. You had just watched your two best friends, James and Lily tie the knot. You partied, drank, ate, and danced with Sirius and your friends. You didn't remember much after that, just you and Sirius flooing home, and crashing on the couch together. That morning, you got ready to visit your family for the month, packing your bags, eating breakfast with Sirius, and kissing each other goodbye before you flooed to your family home. What you didn't know was that that was the last kiss you and Sirius would share.

Oh, how you wished that you were there when they took him away. But you knew that there would be nothing you could do. That was why you became an Auror in the first place, rising in the ranks slowly to finally reach the point that you could see him again - albeit sort of illegally.

It was dark, and you stumbled slightly as you found his cell. Peaking through the small window in the metal door, you felt the air in your lungs escape you, and you cursed under your breath. Sirius sat in the corner of the room, legs up against his chest, arms wrapped around him, the sunlight shining down upon him from the thin window.

"Sirius..." You muttered, just enough that his head lifted at the sound of your voice, eyes rapidly flickering around the room - as if he had really gone insane, imagining your voice - before he found the small portion of your face peeking out from the window on the door.

"Y/N?" His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and you swallowed back the lump forming in your throat at the sight of him. You nodded your head, pushing up to rest your forehead on the metal door. You didn't say anything, afraid if you did, you would cry. You heard and watched him move, the scraping of his skin and his prison clothing against the wall as he pushed himself to his feet. His hand reached out for you, just brushing against your cheek before he almost flinched back in fear that it was all a dream, that you weren't real. "Y/N," He repeated, voice louder this time as if he was making sure that you were really there.

"It's me, Sirius." You responded softly, looking at him through the window, seeing his eyes staring right into yours. “I’m here.” You frowned deeply upon seeing how thin and frail he looked, "My poor baby, what have they done to you..?

"How are you here?" He asked, ignoring your question, staring at you with those gray eyes that you missed so much.

Licking your bottom lip, you gave him a small, nervous smile, "I'm an Auror... And I may or may not have bribed the security guard to let me up here." You admitted sheepishly, feeling your heart race in your chest as his lips twitched slightly at your confession.

"Oh, Y/N," He said, moving the tips of his fingers against your cheek, a soft chuckle leaving him as you leaned into his touch as much as you could from the window's small opening. "How come you haven't seen me before?" He asked, his thumb stroking your skin as your eyes fell shut.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, feeling tears burn behind your eyes as you looked back at him. "Stanley, the security guard, is surprisingly hard to crack. If I had known that he had a huge crush on Rita Skeeter, I would've used that instead." You admitted, shrugging slightly as a small, breathy laugh left Sirius.

"It's been so long, my love," He muttered, "I haven't seen you in close to a decade." He murmured, a soft look appearing on his features as he took in every detail of you that he could make out from the terrible lighting.

"It has..." You agreed, "I missed you. A lot." You told him truthfully, giving him a watery smile as he looked at you with such sorrow and adoration it made you weak in the knees. "But, we will get you out of here, and I will take you far away from this place." You told him, your eyes flickering around his cell before they returned back to his face. "I just need time... I- I can get you out, I just need-"

"Shhh..." He hushed you softly, stroking his dirty thumb over your bottom lip, but you didn’t care, "It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I know how the Ministry works. They've done a lot of wrong by me... But you... You will make it right again. You're too good for this world."

You couldn't help the tears that flowed down your cheeks as he spoke, his voice deep and soothing, "I love you, Siri." You whispered, watching as he smiled at you, and it was like the stars in the night sky.

"I love you too, my little treasure," Sirius said, voice soft and rough with emotion.

Blinking rapidly, tears burned the back of your eyes as you cleared your throat lightly, "Are you alright?" You asked, before huffing, shaking your head slightly, "That's a silly question. You don't have to answer that." You laughed slightly as you wiped away your tears, "Is there anything I can bring you next time? I think I can get Stanley to let me up here again... I can bring food maybe or-"

"You..." He responded, interrupting you, smiling when you blinked up at him in confusion, "You're all I need, Y/N... You and your little smile that melts me into a puddle every time I see it. Your soft hair that always smells like summer."

"Sirius," You sighed out, your smile growing uncontrollably at his words, "Became a poet, have you?"

"The thought of you has kept me sane," Sirius muttered, glancing around his cell quickly before looking back at you, "How's Harry?" He then asked, swiftly changing the topic.

"Little Harry?" You asked, "He's doing as good as he can, being the Boy Who Lived and all."

"Is he doing alright at Hogwarts?"

"He is. I try to visit Hogwarts as much as I can to check up on him. I gave him that picture of James and Lily for his twelfth birthday." You told him, "He's a lot like you, really. James too. He gets into so much trouble. Aside from the trouble You-Know-Who causes." You bit your lip briefly, narrowing your eyes playfully, "And that's funny coming from you. It took a lot of convincing to get you to even do your homework."

Sirius laughed, and it was a beautiful sound, and you would be lying if you said you didn't want to hear it more often. "You got me there… You’d never see me in that library. Pince hated me."

Your smile dwindled slightly, looking down at your Muggle watch, "I have to go... Stanley only gave me ten minutes." You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling like the worst person in the world for leaving.

"I understand. You do what you have to, treasure." He told you, though his eyes were begging and pleading for you to stay.

"I'll try and come back and see you. I promise." You muttered, reaching your hand up to touch his, your fingers just brushing against his own as he gave you a nod.

"I'll be waiting for you." He replied, and you could feel your heart in your throat as you smiled at him, taking one last look before you left him to go back to the floor you were not supposed to be on.

---

Main Masterlist | Harry Potter Masterlist

#cute #fluff #x reader #slight angst #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #x you #x y/n #request #anon request #requested by anon #harry potter #hp #hp fandom #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x female reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x auror!reader #auror!reader #harry potter fanfic

[pinchofhoney]

Hiii, could I please request post-azkaban sirius x reader while they're staying in Grimmauld Place, the reader is an Auror and is part of the Order of the Phoenix and comes home from working all day to find Sirius drunk and depressed. Thank you!

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

post-azkaban!sirius black x auror!reader

world count: 1.8k

warning: no use of y/n, fluffy angst, hurt/comfort, loss of hope, mention of drinking alcohol, slight signs of depression

summary: Maybe there are wounds that prove resistant to the time.

a/n: hello, and thank you for your lovely request! i hope you will be satisfied with what i have written for you!!<33

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @lonelywitchv2 @alexxavicry

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

"Bye, Aidan. I'll see you tomorrow," you smiled kindly at your coworker and adjusting your bag, which had slipped off your shoulder, you started down one of the corridors in the Ministry of Magic.

Walking away from your office door, a tired sigh escaped your lungs. Being an auror had always been the realization of your biggest dreams, but today marked one of the worst days in your entire career.

The day began with a jarring summons from the Ministry's emergency line. A sorcerer, suspected to be a Death Eater, had resurfaced with a newfound malevolence. Dispatches arrived, delivering grim news of a series of brutal attacks in a one of the small wizarding village. And of coures, as one of the seasoned aurors leading the brigade, the mantle of responsibility to untangle this dark puzzle was firmly draped across your shoulders.

Arriving at the village, you were met with scenes of devastation that could make even the bravest witch or wizard falter. The ominous insignia of the malevolent magician was etched indelibly onto the slate-gray sky, casting an eerie luminescence over the vicinity. The villagers were visibly scarred, bearing not only the physical aftermath of the onslaught, but also the emotional wounds inflicted. Hours were spent meticulously extracting tales from shaken witnesses, weaving their stories into a tapestry of dread. The narratives were harrowing – curses and hexes had been hurled with a chilling precision, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake.

The physical remnants found at the scenes of the crimes painted an equally distressing picture. It was abundantly clear that the wizard had honed their craft, preparing a deadly amalgamation of spells that left victims scant chances for survival. The results of these assaults lingered in your thoughts, each grim picture etching itself into your mind as an unrelenting reminder of the horrors this dark conjurer could unleash.

Yet, the challenges presented were far from over. The Death Eater seemed perpetually a step ahead, expertly setting snares and diversions to obstruct your progress. The dynamic transformed into a vexing and exhausting chase, where each lead seemed destined to culminate in a frustrating impasse.

As the day marched onward, the strain on your team became increasingly tangible. Tensions escalated, nerves grew taut, and the fervor to apprehend the wizard intensified. Your team pressed forward, unwavering in their determination, even in the face of the adversary's guile and potency. A mounting sense of desperation took root, fueled by the fervent desire to deliver justice to the afflicted and bring an end to the grip of terror.

And now, the weariness that had been slowly encroaching had deepened into a bone-deep fatigue. The lack of headway and the emotional toll of the day weighed heavily on your spirit. With steps heavy, you navigated the halls of the Ministry toward the exit, your stomach's protestations reminding you of your hunger. Breakfast had been but a fleeting memory, enhancing the anticipation of a shared dinner with Sirius in the comforts of your Grimmauld Place abode.

The thought of recounting your day to him, knowing he'd offer comforting words, wrap his arm around you, and gently press a kiss to your forehead—reassuring you that tomorrow will hold the promise of progress—made you feel impatient.

Since Sirius's managed to escape from the nightmarish walls of Azkaban, you both became inseparable allies, always ready to lend each other a hand. Well, mostly it was your role to help him. His grim tenure within the prison had inflicted wounds far deeper than the physical; the bars and Dementors had taken a heavy toll on his mental strength.

The scars left by Azkaban's haunting existence marked him in ways that went beyond the surface. The ceaseless shadows cast by the Dementors had gnawed at his spirit, causing wounds that cut to the core of his mind. The years of isolation had turned his thoughts into a maze of torment, an unending cycle of despair that seemed insurmountable. His own thoughts, compounded by the Dementors' soul-draining presence, had eroded his sense of self and purpose.

After his release, returning to the world was like an awakening filled with confusion. The noise of life's complexities clashed with the monotony of his prison life, leaving him adrift amidst a sea of overwhelming emotions. It was as though he was trying to put together a puzzle with many pieces missing—confused, fragmented, and unsure.

Your warm companionship offered a lifeline, a connection to reality that he desperately needed. Your constant presence gradually broke down the walls of solitude he had built within himself. After all, you were someone he knew as well as he knew himself—his love from long ago, from his school years, and your paths reconnected by complete coincidence. Through patience, empathy, and countless conversations, you helped him slowly navigate the turbulent waters of life after Azkaban. You became the guiding light that led him through the maze of his fears, showing him that life still held moments of beauty and purpose worth cherishing.

Day by day, moment by moment, you were there to listen, to comfort, and to remind him of his intrinsic worth. The scars left by the prison might have been permanent, but your unwavering support had a way of easing the pain and helping him rediscover the parts of himself that he believed were lost forever.

Stepping out onto a gray London street, you took a look around, briefly studying the faces of people as they passed by. Sharing a smile with a stranger in a coat who met your gaze, you turned in the direction of the flat. On your way, you made a quick stop at a nearby shop, procuring an assortment of snacks for a leisurely evening shared with Sirius, and as the tune of your favorite melody danced on your lips, you headed towards Grimmauld Place.

Upon entering, the familiar scent of dust enveloped you, and an unusual hush pervaded the space—a silence rarely encountered in this residence. Not even the creaking of the wooden floor beneath the begrudging feet of Kreacher reached your ears. Lowering your shopping onto the floor, you shed your damp coat, which had captured the essence of London's air, and, retrieving the bag once more, ventured deeper into the depths of the Black's house.

“Sirius?” you called out as you proceeded down the corridor, your voice carrying a note of hopeful expectation. Yet, the silence that answered was deafening, and a sense of concern began to creep into your thoughts. He was meant to be waiting for you at home.

Curiosity propelling you forward, you navigated the dimly lit spaces, the house seemingly holding its breath. Eventually, your steps led you to the kitchen, where you found him. He was sitting by the table, like a solitary figure amidst the shadows, his gaze fixed emptily on a distant point with a glass of alcohol in his hand.

“Sirius?” you addressed him once again, this time softly, your voice infused with a mix of tenderness and apprehension. As you drew closer, you noticed the distant look in his eyes, a reflection of a mind caught in the grips of haunting memories. The weight of his past seemed to hang heavily upon him, leaving his usually vibrant spirit, that you were familiar with, dimmed and worn.

With a sigh that carried a hint of sorrow, you reached out to touch his arm gently. “Are you alright?” The question was simple, but it held layers of understanding, a recognition of the battles he fought within himself.

He turned to you, his eyes finally focusing on your presence, and a fleeting smile graced his lips, though it was faint, like a star struggling to shine through the clouds. “I... I just had a rough day,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability.

Stepping closer, you closed the physical distance between you sitting next to him, your concern palpable. “Are these voices returning again?” you asked softly, already knowing the answer. Azkaban had left scars that ran deep, and there were moments when those scars resurfaced with a vengeance, tormenting him with the worst moments of his past.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hand. “Yeah. They... they were louder today, more vivid.” His admission was accompanied by a sigh, a sigh that carried the weight of the pain he couldn't quite put into words.

Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. “You don't have to go through this alone anymore, you know,” you said, your voice unwavering. “I'm here for you.”

A mixture of emotions flickered in his eyes – gratitude, relief, and a lingering hint of the darkness that still clung to him. With a shaky exhale, he set the glass down on the table, his hand finding its place in yours, seeking the connection that grounded him.

“I just... I didn't know how to cope today,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “The memories were too much, and I thought... I thought maybe alcohol could numb them, even if just for a little while.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your heart aching for the pain he carried. “I understand, Sirius. But you don't have to face this alone, and you definitely don't have to numb the pain with alcohol.” Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, a gesture of comfort and reassurance. “We'll face this together, okay? I bought some snacks, we will cook dinner, as we planned, yeah?”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. Then, as if finally allowing himself to let go of the burden he'd been carrying, he nodded. “Yes, alright.”

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips, a testament to the strength he drew from your presence. With a deep breath, he let go of the glass, leaving behind the fleeting comfort it provided. Your touch, your words – they were the lifeline he needed more than anything else in that moment.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze once again before letting go, your fingers interlacing for just a brief moment. Then, with a small grin, you stepped back, your resolve unwavering. “Great. Let's start with dinner then. I got all our favorites.”

A spark of interest ignited in his eyes, a flicker of the Sirius you knew and loved. “All our favorites, huh? You spoil me, you know that?”

You chuckled softly, the sound carrying a touch of playfulness. “Well, someone's got to take care of you, right?”

With a playful wink, you turned towards the direction of the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. “Now, let's see if we can create a masterpiece out of these.”

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black angst #sirius black headcanon #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black one shot #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black x reader #no use of y/n #auror!reader #harry potter #harry potter universe #harry potter fanfiction #hurt/comfort #angst

[goldenbuckyyy]

LOVER

Summary: An inside look into the happily ever after between you and Draco that is well deserved.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), raw sex, synchronized orgasms, slight dirty talk, cream pie, making out, established relationship.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had always been wanting to write this little epilogue for my favorite little story, Heather. Please read my previous post which is just an explanation into why I hadn’t posted in a while! I hope you enjoy this. Title inspo: “Lover” by Taylor Swift.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one. 

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Shhhh, baby. You gotta be quiet,” your husband rasps into your neck, his deep voice sending goosebumps loose all over your skin, as he licks a small strip up to your chin as he proceeds to nibble on your bottom lip. His warm, soft hands touching your skin which makes you feel like you're burning underneath him. 

You clench your eyes together to try and make sense of all of the different sensations you’re currently feeling. 

A strangled moan chokes its way out of the back of your throat as he angles his hips upwards to go in deeper as you instinctively wrap one of your legs around his waist to give him better access. Your hands touch his soft skin around his waist as you hold onto him, gripping tightly into his flesh. 

Your bodies synching together like they always have. Even after all these years. No amount of time would ever come close to being enough. You’re always going to want more. 

More. More. More. 

Your husband steals your moans as he covers your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours softly, and your arms wrap around his neck to pull him into you. One of your hands moves into his hair, tugging at the roots gently as his own hands move to grip onto your hips, and you both start moving together. Speeding up when you start feeling the familiar ache in your lower belly. 

You both pull away from each other's necks, smiling when you both notice the same reflexes, and you reach up to kiss your husband's sweet mouth once more. His thrusting only grows rougher and deeper, but still moves with caution and it makes your entire body erupt in chills as you both moan into each other's mouth when you climax together. 

Always together. 

Your toes curl into the bed as your husband continues to thrust into you, spilling himself completely into your warmth, and you peck his lips a couple times as he leans his forehead against yours. Both letting out loud pants and small giggles. A cheeky grin overtakes his face as his eyelashes flutter against his creamy skin. 

His beautiful silver eyes meet yours as he kisses the tip of your nose and then he slowly pulls out of you which makes you whine at the loss of contact and he flips down next to you. He chuckles deeply as he rubs his chest, which is moving rapidly as he comes down from his orgasm, and his fingers brush against your breast. 

His fingers caress your naked skin around your chest, “God, I love you. I love how we’re still in sync even after all this time.” 

“So do I,” you whisper back sweetly to him as you reach over to him to kiss his cheek, which makes him flush like he always does, and you slowly start getting off the bed. You use the bedside table to steady yourself as you stand up. 

“It’s starting already?” He yells after you as you speed walk into the master bathroom that you are so incredible thankful for at this second because you feel like your bladder is about to burst. 

“Shush,” you exclaim back with a giggle as you proceed to finally sit down on the toilet and have yourself a wee. Your entire body relaxes at the feeling and you look down at your protruding belly. 

Three months to go. 

You reach over to grab your belly oil and rub it all over your stomach as you relax for a second. You almost jump off the seat when you hear your husband's voice from the door. 

“You’re a sight, my love.” 

“Draco!” You exclaim with an eye roll as you watch him watching you. He stands against the bathroom door, leaning against it, still naked, and you let yourself take in his body in its full glory. 

You take a minute to admire his muscular posture with his lean frame. You admire his creamy, milky skin which is covered in bruises. Which were caused by your mouth. Always leaving them everywhere because you absolutely loved to mark him up. You always made sure they were in places that could be hidden underneath his Auror robes. 

He still brought up the one time you accidentally marked him above the collar mark and everybody teased him for weeks until it faded away. Especially since Draco never used glamour charms on his skin. 

You admire his long legs with his equally long torso and you loved how tall he was. He always made you feel safe and secure in his arms. You lick your own lips as your eyes land on his valuable member. 

Your stomach tingles as he slowly strokes himself, still a bit hard for your morning activities, and you let out a laugh. 

“Stop it,” you demand as you clean yourself up and proceed to wash your hands. You stare at him from the mirror with a small smile. 

“Stop what?” He questions with a smirk as he goes to the toilet to do his own business. 

“I’m already pregnant with your sixth offspring because of that thing!” Your eyes looking wide at his cock in his hands. 

Draco lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle as he cleans himself up. “Technically it’s only your fifth pregnancy!”

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love it,” he whispers as he places a big kiss into your warm cheek causing you to giggle again. 

You leave him be as you walk into your shared walk in closet. You pull over a matching pair of baby blue knickers and a soft bralette. You wiggle your way into your comfiest pair of black leggings and soft knit white jumper. You slip your feet into your fuzzy gray slippers and start making your way down the hallway. Your ears are perking up trying to hear any signs that your kids are up.  

You start making breakfast the muggle way, thanks to Hermoine for teaching you, and you’re humming along to a song when the first sign of life invades your senses. 

You feel small hands sneak up on your belly as you smile brightly, pausing as you mix the eggs, and look down at bright gray eyes looking up at you. 

“Good morning, mummy!” Your little five year old daughter, Aries, whispers as she shows off her bright toothy smile. 

You bend to kiss her forehead as she giggles, “Good morning, my little angel. Where’s your brother?” 

She rubs your belly lightly as she then skips to her usual chair around the family table, “Brushing his teeth, mummy.” 

“Did you brush yours already?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and she giggles even louder. 

“Duh, mummy!!” 

Right on time, Aries' twin brother Phoenix, comes running down the hallway.. excessively loud and giggling as your oldest ten year old son, Scorpius is chasing after him. Your seven year old, Leo, is walking behind them slowly. Yawning and rubbing his eyes lazily as he trails into his seat at the table as he moans out a good morning to you and blows you an air kiss. 

“Be careful!!” You yell after them as Aries only watches them with a smile on her face as you continue cooking breakfast. You hear louder footsteps as Draco comes into the kitchen, ready for the day in his Head Auror robes, and holding your three year old daughter in his arms. 

He reaches you, pecking your lips sweetly as if you didn’t just spend the morning wrapped around him, and lets you kiss Lyra’s soft cheek as she smiles at you. Her tiny hand touches your hair slightly. 

Her eyes that match yours watch you as Draco walks away from you and tries to wrangle up all the kids for breakfast before he has to leave for work. 

The kids are all yelling, moving, and proceeding to sit in their favorite seats. You and Draco proceed to move in sync together as you both gather plates for the kids. Moving to fill each with cut up pancakes, scrambled eggs, cut up strawberries, and each kid getting their favorite drinks. You quickly make Lyra a yogurt bowl with extremely small slices of strawberries on the side and a cup of her favorite milk. 

Bumping hips and sneakily smiling at each other. 

Draco starts handing each one of your shared kids their own special plate and drink as you make your own plate along with your husbands. 

You set the plates down as you hand Draco’s hot coffee that’s under a stasis charm as he hands you a thankful smile and passes you your own cinnamon tea in your mug. 

The room is soon filled with loud children talking.  Scorpius and Leo arguing about what to do today after daddy gets home. Debating on if they should play quidditch or have a family movie night since it’s Friday. Which means daddy gets the weekend off. Aries and Phoenix are munching on their breakfast loudly and making silly faces at each other which causes them to giggle excessively at each other. Lyra sits in her high chair as she observes her siblings with a silly little smile on her face and trying her best to eat her yoghurt with her tiny pink spoon. 

Draco feeds her small bites of his own pancakes as Lyra happily accepts them. 

“What are your plans today, baby?” 

You hum as you finish your bite of food, “Hermoine and Pansy are coming over today. They say they want help with the wedding planning, but I think they’re having godchildren withdrawal.” 

Draco snickers at that with a slight eye roll, “Of course they are. Our children are the best.” 

You smile at him, “So, Pansy told Theo and now he’s coming over with the kids as well.” 

Draco nodded his head, “I’m sure Potter is happy about that.” 

“Anything to get Theo away from his nesting habits and begging Harry for another baby,” you say with a soft smile as you think of your best friends. 

Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, “I’m sure his baby fever will end once he sees your pregnant belly and our adorable Lyra. Didn’t they just adopt baby Sirius?” 

“Baby Sirius is going to be four already! Then Lily and James are already Scorpius age. Theo is just scared of empty nesting, but Harry says he wants to wait until this big case he’s dealing with passes.” 

Draco hums in agreement, “I wish we were like that.” And he proceeds to give you a soft teasing smile.  

You poke him with your fork and shake your head, “We have kids basically every two years, these twin girls are the last ones!” You eye him with an authoritative look. 

“Anything you say, my love.” 

“Do you think Hermoine and Pansy will ever adopt or have kids of their own?” You ask as you watch Lyra to make sure she’s eating. Draco doesn’t miss the tone of your voice at your question. 

“You’ve noticed the way Hermoine looks at your belly, huh?” 

“I have,” you reply softly. “It’s just.. Pansy always says she’s okay with just being a godmother, but ‘Min…” you trail off with a sad smile. 

Draco reaches over to your hand and squeezes, “I understand, trust me. Maybe get a second with Granger and just talk to her about what we’ve noticed.” 

“Maybe. I don’t want to overstep,” you say as you sip your drink. Scorpius is the first one that finishes eating and he quickly thanks you for breakfast with a kiss on your cheek as he moves to start washing the dishes. You admire your first born for a second and can’t help but love how much he looks like his father and how big he’s gotten. 

The same milky white skin with bright pale hair and even with the same matching gray eyes. His exact copy. Oh, you can’t help but tear up at how much you love your first baby boy. The first baby that made you a mother and taught you about a mothers love. 

The one who made you want a million more babies. 

Leo and Phoenix soon start helping clean up the plates as Draco helps Lyra get cleaned up. Aries helps him as you use your magic to clean up the table and Lyra’s high chair. 

You hum in contentment as you proceed to kiss the cheeks of all your kids. Scorpius blushes, Leo kisses you back, Phoenix and Aries giggle, and Lyra pulls you in to attack you with kisses and hugs. Draco soon jumps into all the loving before he has to floo to work. 

Draco piles all the kids into his arms as he squeezes them into his arms and then tells them to go play before their cousins come over. 

He gently pulls you into his arms as one of his hands slips underneath your jumper to rub your belly as he kisses your lips sweetly. The feeling of his lips on your sends sparks all over your body like it always does and you savor his taste. 

“I love you,” you whisper into him as he smiles against your lips. 

“I love you more,” he whispers back with a couple more pecks against your smiling mouth. 

“Be careful and I’ll see you soon,” you kiss your lips one more time as he steps into the fireplace. 

“Always am, my love. And I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he says with a wink as he grabs a handful of floo powder and calls out his location. He bursts into green flames and your hearing soon fills with the sounds of your children’s giggles and loud voices playing together.  

You take a moment to take it all in. 

Loving the same boy… now man for as long as you can remember. The amazing life you both have built. It was never easy and there have been many hardships, but it was incredibly worth it. 

What a beautiful life you both had built slips into your mind as you smile to yourself in pure bliss. 

#draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader fic #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x y/n recs #draco fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n fic #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #established draco malfoy #head Auror draco malfoy #draco fic #draco lucius malfoy #draco smut #draco x you #draco x wife!reader

[writing-intheundercroft]

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties.  You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.  

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages.  Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons.  Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded.  So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day.  You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching.  It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people.  You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.  

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”  

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose.  “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch.  I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly.  It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow.  At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another.  You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson!  Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.” 

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit.  He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion.  Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel.  He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice.  It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out.  And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years.  The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work.  You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.  

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine.  It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her.  “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think.  You’re at the top of your field.  You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you.  The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy.  Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom.  It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital.  It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes.  Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains.  Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline.  Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward.  Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames.  A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth.  There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information. 

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful.  Lost a few–even more are bleeding.  It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them.  Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name.  Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain.  And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them.  The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.  

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects.  His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them.  They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love.  You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath.  The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the  blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.  

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised.  Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year.  You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars. 

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting.  He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to.  Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest.  You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut.  The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later.  In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.  

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done.  From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included).  Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital.  But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them.  Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring.  They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened.  You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you. 

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest. 

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied.  Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps.  She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.” 

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.  

“How is Sallow?  The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you.  Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door.  It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!” 

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you.  He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns. 

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really?  I’ve lost five damn years in my head?  What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.”  Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed.  Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie.  Was it a lie?  You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back.  “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay.  We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?” 

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water.  Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel much better,” you assure him. 

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes.  He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere.  But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period.  It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.  

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body.  With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him.  The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso.  Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.  

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy.  He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room.  You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago.  You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered.  Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.  

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off.  His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union.  You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you.  You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.  

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch.  Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her.  She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here?  It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you.  I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth.  That we ended amicably.  That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt.  Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde.  It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact?  Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home.  Visitor hours are over.”  you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry.  I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours.  I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks.  Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart. 

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave.  You’re finally able to start your rounds.  Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward.  Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week.  Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in.  Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep.  He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart.  Nothing particularly new, and no memories back.  He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies.  It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell.  A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops.  You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.” 

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian.  Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me.  Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that.  I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again.  You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably.  One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.” 

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely.  You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles.  It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child.  It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”  

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.  

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.  

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully.  Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning.  Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean.  It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound.  You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue.  His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me.  I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that.  I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve.  Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.” 

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him).  “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument.  “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer.  It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters.  You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl. 

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it.  She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him.  He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me.  Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian.  You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else.  Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him. 

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind.  Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable. 

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice.  That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.” 

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold.  I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?” 

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies.  You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).  

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron.  When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man.  He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles. 

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face.  The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful.  Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable.  And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore.  In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen.  He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights. 

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight.  You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname.  And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room.  But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you.  At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes. 

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily. 

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them.  Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars.  They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart.  I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure.  That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have.  You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that.  So I packed my things and left.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back.  After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work.  Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted.  Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love.  He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley.  Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror.  A damn good one.  The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others.  I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you.  We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks. 

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement.  A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it.  But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged.  It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight.  And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay.  That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly.  “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him. 

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t.  And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him.  From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger.  And that’s good–it’s good for us now.  It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy.  I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man.  That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you.  But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly.  You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love.  You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest.  I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together.  The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy.  Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat.  Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration.  At least he was when you were younger.  Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even.  The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.  

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.  

The words replay in your mind.  It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years.  That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.  

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened.  That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself. 

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room.  You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion.  Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual.  Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.  

This is it.  This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed.  It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red.  You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan.  There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives.  The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings.  You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs.  Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included.  Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group. 

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head. 

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin.  He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon.  For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door.  Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub.  Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.  

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers.  You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one.  Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker.  It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room.  He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).  

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night.  He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life. 

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him.  I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life.  He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs.  The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk.  Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face.  He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.”  You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin.  The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine.  You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done.  That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.  

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you.  You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place. 

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips.  It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years.  You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer.  His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think.  So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving.  You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body.  He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest.  Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past.  But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.  

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week.  And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #Auror Sebastian #Auror Sebastian Sallow #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #writing-intheundercroft #this one got a little out of hand #should I write a smutty part two?????

[matchavellichor]

A Midnight Reuniting - Pt.2

dark!Sebastian x f!MC - Angst - 2.8k words - ao3

Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Heavy Angst, Auror Ominis Gaunt, Mentions of Blood, Mentally Unstable Sebastian

A/N: Wasn't originally planning on writing a part two but got some requests so here you go!! (first part here)

Flashes of green and red. Spells cast with a particular breed of viciousness, incantations dripping with malice. The familiar sensation of crucio flaying your nerve-endings apart in the scriptorium. Solomon’s body falling limp to the floor of the catacombs. Dead, unseeing eyes. 

Sebastian’s eyes. Amber clouded with scarlet, a particularly grotesque shade of red, like the blood covering his hands. The blood covering your hands where he’s clinging to you, pleading with you, holding on. Smearing it all over you until you’re drenched and drowning.

The stench of dark magic on his clothes, his hair, him. The evidence of everything he’s done, suffocating and all-encompassing until it fills your lungs like thick, black smoke. Until you’re clawing at your throat, scratching at the hand around your neck— his hand, little black dots clouding your vision and—

You wake up gasping for air, a cold sweat making your camisole cling to your torso. Sebastian’s sitting up beside you immediately, tender hands smoothing back the hair sticking to your cheeks. A sympathetic voice, low and sleep-rough, telling you it’s okay, that he’s with you. Because he understands. Because he’s spent too many nights waking up in the same manner, with nothing but frigid stone in a desolate cell to cradle him.

He tucks you back against his chest, urges you to fall back asleep with soft reassurances in your ear, a hand running up and down your back. You don’t tell him that you can’t. You don’t tell him that your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, or about the gut-wrenching pit of dread that’s been settled in your stomach since he arrived. 

You’re unable to relax, even after Sebastian’s own breathing steadies out, his arms around you going lax as he falls back asleep. You wait a few more moments before you slip out from under them, careful, cautious movements as to not rouse him, bated breath.

The clock on your wardrobe tells you it’s a little past three in the morning, and you’re surprised you’d managed to get even an hour of sleep after everything that’s happened tonight. You glance back at Sebastian. Moonlight seeping through the window beside your bed illuminates his sleeping figure and he looks so much younger asleep. More delicate, vulnerable. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you tell yourself. You fight the urge to climb back into his arms. 

You make your way towards the door slowly, silently, your breath catching in your throat every time the hardwood under your feet creaks, heart hammering in your ears. The second you successfully slip out, you dart towards the kitchen. 

You scour over every countertop, pull open drawers and cabinets. You know it was here last, you had used your wand to heat the water for your tea, but even as you scan every square inch, it’s nowhere to be found. The search renders just as futile in the living room. You feel hopeless. Defeated. Trapped. 

Even if you had the willpower inside of you to use it on him, to stop him, to defend yourself, you’d be unable to. You’re defenseless, both physically and emotionally. He’s cornered you, body and mind. Ensured you’d have no way of resisting. 

There’s the rattle of a doorknob and your heart stops in your chest.

It’s not from down the corridor though, not from the bedroom. Someone is trying to open your front door, quiet and inconspicuous, and even as you’re conscious of this fact, you’re stood frozen still, just watching. 

The quiet click of the lock unlatching following a silent alohomora, the door opening with a slowness that’s mindful of the creak, intentions to be undetectable. 

Ominis stands in the doorway in his auror robes, his wand arm outstretched firmly in front of him, the tip of the wood glowing red. There’s a rigidness to his stance that tells you he’s on-edge, poised for combat, expecting a threat.

Probably not the wisest idea to pounce on someone so highly-trained in combat with his wand out, but you’re so relieved that you’re wrapping your arms around his neck before you can even think properly. You bury your face in his chest in shuddering breaths and it works out in your favor in the end, because at least you’re not immediately flung across the room with a depulso.

His wand lowers, tucked away in its holster, his other hand coming up to hold you tighter to him, and you can tell by the way his muscles drop the tension in them that he’s just as relieved to see you. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His hands run down your shoulders, arms, groping, feeling for injuries. Worry running rampant through his blood.

“I’m alright, I’m—I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry, I came as soon as I found out,” His hands find your cheeks, frantic, as if he needs to feel you to assure himself that you’re genuinely alright. “Gods, I was so scared. I knew he’d come here, that’d he try to do something to you—”

You shook your head. “He…he didn’t do anything, he—” You can’t stave off the tears that well up in your eyes, the thickness in your voice. “He’s not well, Ominis, he needs help, he—”

“It’s alright, I’m here now,” He hushes your panicked breathing, lets your fingers curl into the front of his robes, lets you cling to him. “I’ll take care of this. The DMLE is already aware, they’ll take him back and—”

“No!” You object immediately, pulling away, and you’re surprised by your own hostility towards the idea, how terrified the notion makes you. You sniffle, shaking your head, attempting to calm yourself. You try to think rationally, even if your heart’s too heavy in your chest to have a single reasonable thought. “Maybe…maybe we should think this through, maybe we can work something out.”

“Do you hear yourself?” He’s taken aback, brows furrowed in concern. “He’s a murderer, he—”

“That was years ago, Ominis!” You retort, conscious of the fact that you may well be coming off just as mad as Sebastian. You can’t help yourself. The vulnerability you saw in him tonight makes you unwilling to let go with such ease. Your conscience would never let you survive it.

“By gods, he’s gotten inside of your head,“ Ominis mutters, unbelieving. His hands find purchase on your shoulder, giving you a little jolt, attempting to knock some reason into you. “Listen to me, he’s dangerous. Do you understand? We’re leaving now and letting the ministry handle this. I’m taking you somewhere safe—”

“I…I can’t just leave him,” You shake your head, tears still stinging at your eyes. “I can’t do that to him again, Ominis,”

“Are you aware of what he did to escape?” You swallow the lump in your throat at the thought. You don’t want to know, but Ominis tells you anyway. Forces you to be confronted with reality, makes you swallow down the bitter taste. “He bludgeoned one of the wardens to death, caved in a man’s skull with a blunt object and—”

“A dinner tray,” Sebastian stood leaning against the wall of the hallway, wand drawn and twirled carelessly between his fingers. Not the slightest bit fazed by the presence of the blonde. There was the subtlest quirk of his lips at the corner, nonchalant, amused. “I caved in a man’s skull with a dinner tray.” He clarified. “Wasn’t too hard,” He sighs, indifferent, almost bored. “Awfully messy, though.”

Ominis’ head shoots towards the direction of Sebastian’s voice, immediately pulling his own wand from his leather shoulder holster, pointing it in the direction of the brunette.

“Come on, now,” Sebastian frowned. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“It’s over, Sebastian.” Ominis muttered, firm and authoritative. Speaking to the man in front of him, his best friend, as he would any other criminal he’d come upon on the job. But deep down, you could see the glint of misery in his eyes. How it’s ruining him to be in this position. “You’ve done enough harm already. You had to have known it would end like this.”

“End like this?” Sebastian grins. “Oh, but it’s only just begun.”

“There’s a dozen aurors making their way here as we speak, you have nowhere to—”

Sebastian laughs, entertained. “Always the dramatics with you, isn’t it?” He fiddles with the wand in his hand. “I’m not going back, Ominis.” He takes a step closer, eyes darting between you and Ominis, observing the way the blonde’s positioning himself, a protective barrier. His eyes narrow, fingers tighten around his wand. “You can step away from her now.”

“You’ve gone mad.” 

“Of course I’ve gone mad,” He seethes, voice raised. “Years , in an empty cell. Years, where the closest thing to human contact I’ve received is the overseer who brings me my meals. Years abandoned, betrayed, by the people I trusted the most.” 

“I'm sorry, Sebastian.” Ominis says and his tone falters, deviates from its strong and commandeering lilt. Vulnerable. Devastated. As if he’s bearing witness to a gruesome trainwreck, a sick happening of fate that he was unable to prevent. Guilt-stricken. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop you before you did what you did. I’m sorry for not having noticed the signs sooner…I’m sorry for failing you.” He firms his stance, definitive. Braced and unyielding, despite the feeling of his heart splintering in his chest. “But I’m not sorry for locking you away. I won’t be sorry for preventing you from doing any more harm.” 

“I’m not your failure, Ominis.” There’s the briefest flash of sympathy in Sebastian’s eyes. A consciousness of the fact that he’s the maker of his own bed, the digger of his own grave. But recognition is not the same as acceptance. “And I will not let you make me your tragedy.” Sebastian adopts his own offensive position. “We’re leaving. Now you can step aside or—”

Ominis casts the first hex. A stupefy, one that Sebastian quickly deflects and veers off to the adjacent wall. An array of picture frames are flung off their hooks, shattered glass and splintered wood littering the floor. You flinch from the impact, but you’re barely able to react. To do anything except watch the combat unfolding in front of you.

Sebastian responds with a confringo, quickly blocked by Ominis’ protego. Sebastian is quick, vicious. Out for blood. 

Ominis is quicker. Favoring stunning jinxes or immobilization spells. Even without the gift of sight to his advantage, he’s flawless. Trained, calculating. Swift, fluid movements, years of experience under his belt. 

What Sebastian lacks in technique he makes up for with pure, ardent severity. Callous, unfeeling. The lengths at which he’s willing to go to come out victorious is evident in every flick of his wand, every spell gritted out through snarled teeth.

Ominis manages to deflect nearly every ruthless hex that makes it out of Sebastian’s wand with finesse. Nearly every. 

A depulso catches him in an opening, his reaction time a mere millisecond off-kilter. He goes flying into the far wall of the sitting room, landing on the floor with a sickening thud. 

Time seems to still, only the sound of your blood roaring in your ears. You don’t know why you just stare. Holding out such hope for him to get up, to keep fighting. But it becomes very clear, very quickly, that he’s not getting up anytime soon. At this horrifying realization, you’re darting towards him. Kneeling by his body in the same instant. 

Staring down at him, limp and unmoving, you immediately break into hysterics.

Not the soft, sorrowful kind of tears you’ve shed enough of this evening, but the manic, desperate kind of sobbing. 

The kind where you break into dry-heaves, and you can hardly even think straight, let alone get oxygen into your hyperventilating lungs, because Ominis is out cold in front of you, and he’s breathing, but it’s shallow and labored, and there’s a gash on the side of his head, and there’s blood. Too much of it. Too much blood streaking his blonde hair scarlet, too much blood on your trembling hands where you’re holding his head, and—

“Get up.” 

You don’t budge. You can’t even bear to look at the man who hovers over you where you’re knelt on the floor. You choke on your sobs, shake your head in refusal. Still clinging to Ominis, willing him to wake up.

“Get up.” He’s yanking you roughly up by your arm, forcing you to your feet before you can protest again. 

“What did…what did you do,” You stumble over your words, incoherent, frantic. “You…you…he’s—”

“He’ll live.” Sebastian’s voice is foreign in your ears. Muffled, like you’re underwater. Like you’re not really there in the moment, but hovering over your body, looking down at the room as a nightmare unfolds. You can’t tear your eyes away from Ominis crumpled at your feet, red streaked over his pale skin where you ran your hands. 

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sebastian’s hands are cupping your cheeks, forcing your eyes away from the unconscious figure slumped on the floor. “It’s alright, deep breaths,” He encourages, soothing, patient. Inhale, exhale. Repeat. “— there you go, good girl, just like that.” 

“It’s done. It’s over.” He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him. Thumbs rubbing the stickiness from your cheeks, the tears clouding your lashes. “It’s you and me, yeah? Always been you and me?” 

He presses his lips to your forehead, a tender hand stroking the back of your head before he’s pulling away. “We’re leaving now.” 

He swings open the front door, cold making its way in, a shiver down your spine. Frigid. Unforgiving. He makes his way to the open doorway, but you don’t follow. You’re frozen in place, feet glued to the floor, fists tense at your sides. Outside, beyond where the orange light seeping from the cottage reaches, is just darkness. Pitch black, void-like. It terrifies you.

You don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave Ominis, the warmth and light and familiarity of the cabin. Security. Refuge. Outside, in the woods, is uncertainty. Outside, you’re forced to accept the reality of what you are. Accomplice. Fugitive. In love with a monster.

He notices your apprehensiveness. Stares for a beat of a moment. Patient. Understanding. But you’re certain that if it came down to it, he’d drag you out by your hair, kicking and screaming, if he had to. He’s not prepared to let you go. Even if he ends up destroying the both of you in the process.

He walks back over to you, taking your chin in his hand, tilting your head up. A thumb brushes over your quivering bottom lip, sympathy in his eyes, because he understands how it feels to be this scared. Petrified. His hands run down your shoulders, trying to still your trembling.

“Remember when we used to run through the woods in fifth-year, little vigilantes?” He smiles, rueful, nostalgic. A devastating kind of sadness. “It’s just like that. We—we’re looking for Ashwinder camps, hm? That’s all. Doesn’t that sound nice? Just like old times?”

You shake your head because you can’t force yourself to make-believe the same way he has, even if you try. You wonder how long it took for his brain to compartmentalize into this little fantasy world it’s created to protect itself. Stowing away his traumas, the truth, in a closed-off corner in the back of his mind. Sacrificing its own sanity so the hurt stops. A morbid act of self-preservation. 

You try to glance back down at Ominis at your feet but his hand is on your jaw, firm, forceful, pulling your attention back towards him. “It’s alright, don’t— don’t, hey, it’s just you and me,” Words meant to be soothing but feel like a knife wrenched in your chest, twisting and dragging through flesh. “Come on now, be a tough girl for me.” He pleads, and it’s the same vulnerability that’s haunted your dreams for years. “My brave girl.”

You shake your head, resistant. More hot tears spill over your lashes, carving paths down your cheeks. It’s irrational. You’re half-convinced you’ve gone insane yourself. But you wrap your arms around his neck, bury your face into his collar. Like a child seeking comfort for a skinned knee, even though they’re scrapes and bruises that he’s responsible for putting there.

“Oh, darling,” He frowns at your sobs, pulls you tighter into his chest. “It’s alright. Don’t you worry. Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions —you understand, don’t you? He was trying to hurt us. I had to stop him, I had to. ”

“Everything will be alright now. I’ll take care of us, I swear it.” He hushes against your hairline, lips pressed to the top of your head. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Just you and me.” He whispers, and his arms around you tighten. Suffocating. A terrifying, asphyxiating feeling in your chest that you stifle, pretend doesn’t exist. Stow away in a closed-off corner of your mind and try to compartmentalize. Just like he has.

“Always.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #sebastian x mc #ominis gaunt #auror ominis gaunt #dark sebastian sallow #angst #sebastian sallow x reader

[your-nanas-house]

On her desk

◇ Pairing: Auror!Sebastian Sallow X secretary!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, short, quickie on a desk

◇ Summary: Y/n finds herself in a unusual position at work.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

When Y/n had shown up for work that day, she hadn't at all expected what was about to happen, not that she minded of course.

She had prepared herself as she did other days, a modest outfit but still eye-catching, pretty appropriate for a secretary, even if she was only an auror's secretary. For the young woman to work in such a department, despite not fighting on the outside, was still a privilege, especially after she ended up under the wing of the head auror Sebastian Sallow, only two years after she managed to graduate from Hogwarts.

It was supposed to be a duller day than normal since most of the aurors were on a mission where Sebastian also had to go, but luckily or unluckily for Y/n the young man had stayed there, at the ministry with her.

Just a few hours passed since she sat at her desk, staying alone for the very first time with her boss, and honestly, she did not know how she had ended up on her own desk, her legs spread wide and her skirt around her waist, with Sebastian's large hands on her tits which were covered only by her lace bra.

His hard cock deep inside her, while his usually well-buttoned shirt hung open so that he could show off his muscular chest streaked with hair and freckles.

Their bodies were slightly sweaty and both were almost on fire from the heat they caused upon contact with each other; the usual din in the room was not caused this time by the many voices of the workers but by their skin colliding with each movement of the Auror's hips.

The papers Y/n was working on were scattered all over the floor but neither of them cared, both of them too caught up in the approach of their climax.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #auror sebastian sallow

[captainsophiestark]

Hard Hitting Questions

Theseus Scamander x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Prompt: "I don’t want you to do that”

Summary: Y/N finally got her big break at the Daily Prophet and has the chance to cover a big Ministry press conference solo. Unfortunately, the Ministry is an insanely big and confusing building, and Y/N might not even be able to make it to the press conference without a little help from a kindly stranger.

Word Count: 1,735

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I swore under my breath as I looked around my surroundings, trying to find any sign of the room I was looking for. The stupid Ministry hallways all looked exactly the same, and nothing I could see gave me a single clue.

After years of working for The Daily Prophet and gradually working my way up from intern to reporter, I'd finally been trusted with a solo, lead story covering a Ministry press conference. It was a dream come true, and I'd come up with plenty of good questions after spending a week carefully familiarizing myself with the issue. None of it would matter, though, if I got lost in a hallway and missed the press conference all together.

"Excuse me?" I whirled around to find (to my horror) a tall, handsome man standing before me, looking slightly confused. "Can I help you?"

I tried not to grimace at his question as I responded.

"I'm quite alright, thank you." A lie, that sounded unconvincing even to me. "I just... uh, I'm here for a press conference and it's my first time covering something like this, especially solo, and I must admit I'm a little bit lost..."

I trailed off, trying not to give in to the tidal wave of stress about to overwhelm me. The man, thankfully, gave me a kind smile which somehow set my heart racing and put me at ease at the same time.

"Don't worry, this place can be a maze. I still get lost sometimes," he said. "I can walk you to the press room. It's on my way to a meeting I need to get to, anyway."

"Oh! I don't want you to do that..." I tried to brush him off, feeling my face warm a bit as I did. "I wouldn't want to make you late for your meeting..."

"Nonsense," he said, quickly waving off my concern before giving me a dashing smile. "If there were any need for me to be concerned about being late, I wouldn't have stopped to talk to you in the first place. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I didn't stop to help someone in obvious distress?"

He met my eyes with that same charming look, and I couldn't help giving him a smile of my own in return. He was handsome and kind, and if he was insisting, I didn't see a reason to turn him down.

"If you're sure..."

"Completely. Please, follow me." With that, he started off down the hallway, leaving room for me to fall into step beside him. "So, you're a reporter, then?"

"Yes. With the Prophet. I started as an intern, and now I've finally worked my way up to covering lead stories." I couldn't help beaming at the statement. I'd worked very long and very hard to get here, and every time I thought about the fact that it was finally paying off, my heart soared.

"Well, congratulations then," he said, shooting me another smile as we turned down another corridor that looked exactly the same as everything else around it. "I'm sure you'll do wonderful with this press conference then, too."

"I certainly hope so," I said, unable to hold back a slight nervous laugh. I focused on taking a few deep breaths as we slowed to a stop in front of a massive oak door. I could hear the excited buzz of a room full of people behind it, and even though I was insanely nervous, I was also excited beyond belief.

"This is your stop," said the man who'd quite literally saved my day. He opened the door and held it for me, and I gave him a quick smile as I darted through.

"Thanks," I said, quickly surveying the room even as I carried on the conversation. "By the way, I didn't catch your name. I'm Y/N-"

I turned around to face the man, but he was already gone. I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed, although he'd told me he'd been running off to a meeting himself.

I quickly put the man out of my mind as I found a seat in the crowded room. All the Ministry Officials scheduled to be on the panel were present but one, thankfully, saving me from being the latest person in attendance.

I took a deep breath and glanced down at my notepad where I'd listed all my questions, the pulled out a quill so I'd be ready to write down everything they said. A moment later, the door at the front of the room flew open, and the man who'd helped me find this room strode on stage.

My mouth dropped open as I watched him walk all the way to the middle seat and sit before the nametag for the Head of the Auror's Division.

Theseus Scamander. I'd just met, walked with, and been helped by Theseus Scamander, one of the primary subjects in the story I was reporting on today.

Theseus's eyes scanned the room as he took his seat, and after a moment, they landed on me. He took in my gobsmacked expression and grinned before quickly looking down at the table, clearly trying to hide a laugh behind his hand.

Unbelievable.

"Alright, now that we're all here," the moderator began, looking from Theseus out into the crowd of journalists. "Let's kick things off with the questions I'm sure you all have about our latest press release."

As one, the crowd of journalists (me included) shot to our feet, clambering to be heard and picked over the noise of everyone else. The moderator selected a few of the men who'd been coming here and covering Ministry events like this for many, many years, and I had to take a deep breath to keep the frustration from getting to me. I shouldered my way forward a bit and raised my hand as high as it would go, and the moderator's eyes finally swept to me.

"Yes, you. New girl."

"Y/N Y/L/N, The Daily Prophet," I identified myself to the panel and then met Theseus' eyes. He still had a spark of warmth and humor there, and I could tell he was fighting a smile as he looked at me. He was very handsome, and he'd completely saved me earlier, but I'd come here to do my job. I wasn't about to change that for anything or anyone. "My question is for Mr. Scamander. With anti-muggl sentiment initiated by Grindelwald still on the rise even in the wake of his capture in the US, what makes you so sure any of the new measures being implemented by the Ministry will have any kind of impact?"

Theseus looked shocked, and then impressed, before he marshaled his expression again and cleared his throat.

"Well, I'm glad you asked..."

Theseus, to my relief, had an excellent answer to my question and the next few follow-ups. I took careful notes for the rest of the press conference, and when it came to an official end and everyone started filing out of the room, I got more than a few compliments and impressed nods from my fellow journalists.

I was absolutely floating on Cloud 9.

I took my time packing up my notebook, quill, and everything else that I usually threw haphazardly into my bag, trying to savor the moment and convince myself everything had, in fact, been real. I was just straightening to leave when I felt someone come up next to me.

"You did a fantastic job." I turned to find Theseus there, smiling at me with his hands in his pockets. "Were you pulling my leg when you said this was your first press conference of this magnitude?"

I smiled, and I couldn't help feeling a little giddy at his words and his presence.

"Nope. This was my first time ever playing in the big leagues. I'm just glad you couldn't tell."

"Not at all. You asked better questions than half of the people who've come before you."

I smiled again, trying not to get too carried away.

"Well, thank you. And thank you for helping me get here in the first place, too. I think my debut as a hard-hitting top reporter might have been a little less impressive if I'd missed the actual press conference."

Theseus chuckled, and when I looked back at him we shared a smile. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, and even though it felt like the conversation should be coming to an end, I couldn't bring myself to go.

"So..." Theseus started, showing nerves for the first time since I'd met him. Which, admittedly, wasn't that long ago. "I know this may be a long shot, but I have to ask... is there any chance you'd like to get drinks with me sometime? Completely separate from our professions, of course."

I stared back at him, not wanting to completely jump to conclusions. He looked at the carpet, the walls, and just about anything but me as the silence stretched on, so I finally cleared my throat and forced myself to speak.

"Like... for a date?"

Theseus turned bright red. "Well, yes. If you... if that's something you'd be interested in."

"I'd probably need to talk to my editor, but... I'd love to, Theseus."

"Really?" he asked, finally meeting my eyes with an expression of relief and hope.

"Yeah, really. You seem like a really good guy, and I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'd like to get to know you better, too. Can we plan on Friday evening? I can pick you up from work, if it wouldn't cause too big of a stir."

I grinned. "That sounds perfect, Theseus. Just as long as you know that my article isn't going to change at all based on the fact that we have a date."

"I'd never expect it to," he said, back to his smiling, confident self as he offered me his arm. "May I walk you out?"

"You may. And not just because I really don't know how to get out of here," I said, taking his arm. We shared a laugh, and the butterflies in my stomach didn't calm down until well after I'd left the Ministry of Magic.

Needless to say, I couldn't wait for Friday.

#fictober22 #Harry Potter #fantastic beats and where to find them #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #fantastic beasts imagine #fantastic beasts fanfiction #fantastic beasts oneshot #theseus scamander fanfiction #theseus scamander imagine #theseus scamander oneshot #1920s #wizarding world #Ministry of Magic #head auror #theseus x reader #The Daily Prophet

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

I have read and written some Sharp fanfics and it seems many of us agree on this and i think that's beautiful

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #aesop sharp #professor sharp #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x reader #meme #we love tall hairy ex auror #walking testosterone

[just-another-star-47]

Auror Special Force

💠 Mission: Build a snowman (complete)

There was a knock on the door to Sebastian's office and, looking up from the papers he was working on, he signaled for whoever it was to come in.

"Sir...?"

MC pushed her way into the small room, which was crammed with books and folders, the walls hung with awards and trophies that Sebastian had already collected despite his young age. Her gaze flitted briefly in the direction of the basilisk tooth, which stood in a glass cabinet in the cupboard, before her eyes fixed on Sebastian, who was looking at her in anticipation.

"Sir... would you build a snowman with me?"

Instead of an answer, silence settled in the room as Sebastian looked at her, furrowing his brow and blinking several times. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, only to close it again and make another attempt.

"You're asking your commander to build a snowman with you, recruit?"

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and shrugged her shoulders.

"None of the others wanted to."

"And so you thought it would be appropriate to disturb me at work - to build a snowman?"

Her gaze flitted briefly out of the window, only to meet Sebastian's penetrating gaze again.

"Otherwise I wouldn't be standing here, sir."

Sebastian's jaw tightened for a split second before he shook his head and wiped the slight smirk off his face with his left hand. Sighing, he stood up and grabbed his coat, nodding his head towards the door as he threw it on.

"Come on then, I've got some paperwork to do today."

With a broad grin, she clapped her gloved hands together, "You won't regret it, sir."

"I'm not so sure about that."

Turning to him again and again, she ushered him out.

"Think of it as a well-deserved break.

"I'm quite sure I wouldn't be doing anything like that during my break."

Ignoring his objections, she formed a ball with the firmly caked snow and pressed it into her troop leader's hand.

"Roll it."

Sebastian's eyebrow shot up as he replied in amusement.

"Oh? I see you've taken command, recruit?"

Grinning, she readied the second ball in her hands.

"Perhaps you will discover completely new abilities in me."

Rolling the small snowball on the ground into a larger globe helped Sebastian hide his grin from her and for a while the gusting wind and the crunching of the snow was the only thing that could be heard.

"Your instructions were imprecise, recruit, what globe am I moulding here? Head, torso, legs?"

"Which globe would you like to mould, sir?"

This time Sebastian couldn't help but laugh, and he straightened up to watch her, as she slowly drew her circles, rolling the snow globe in front of her.

"I think my snowball would make a good torso."

"Then stay where you are, I'll come to you."

She accelerated her movements and pushed the ball in front of her. More and more snow clung to the surface, steadily enlarging it. When she reached Sebastian, he carefully placed one ball on top of the other. While Sebastian was now moulding the snowman's head, she was improving the existing body.

"Now we just need stones and sticks for the face and arms."

With their hands on their hips, they both tilted their heads and looked at the basic structure of the snowman.

"We're in a wasteland of ice and snow. Stones and sticks are a bit scarce."

"Have you ever been told that you are extremely pessimistic?"

The troop leader stood puzzled while she scraped through the snow in search of the aforementioned materials.

"That's simply the truth."

She snorted and shook her head: "I expect more drive and motivation, sir! After all, you've done very well so far."

Watching her silently, Sebastian remained motionless: "I have a sinking feeling that you're making fun of me, recruit."

"I would never dare, sir," she hid a mischievous grin.

Mumbling to himself indistinctly, Sebastian shook his head again and finally trudged back into the house.

Her wide-eyed gaze followed him, and for a moment she stood rooted to the spot, unsure whether she had gone too far. Chewing on her lower lip, she shovelled the snow aside with her boot, but her gaze was not directed at the ground in front of her.

As the door slammed shut again and the snow began to crunch under the weight of a person, she spun around, and a wide smile lit up her face.

"You're acting like Father Christmas just stepped in front of you."

His comment made her look down and bite her bottom lip as his eyes lingered on her form, slowly travelling over her face.

"MC..." he tapped the underside of her chin to get her to look up, but the utterance of her name had been enough. Their eyes found each other for a moment before Sebastian held out a carrot to her.

"For the nose..."

She looked down at the vegetable in amazement, her brow furrowed until she understood what he was talking about.

"Oh...wonderful!"

She placed the carrot in the centre of the face and then reached for the pieces of cabbage that Sebastian held out to her in his open hand - forming eyes, mouth and buttons. Then they both stood in silence in front of the snowman and looked at it closely.

"Maybe a scarf is what's missing...".

She didn't even get round to unwrapping her own from her neck, as Sebastian had already taken his off and wrapped it around the snowman.

"Satisfied?" He looked at her, his expression soft and attentive, earning a warm smile from her.

"It's perfect."

❆⋆❆⋆❆⋆⚔⋆❆⋆❆⋆❆

LOGBOOK: All missions here.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow xf!reader #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow x reader #auror special force au

[moon-witchs-world]

The Chosen One

Harry Potter x fem!WitchReader

Fluffy short story  

820  words

Summary:  A year after the Second Wizarding War, when the Chosen One defeated Voldemort, you meet Harry Potter at Auror training. You can’t help but feel drawn to him, but not for the reasons he expects. 

His green eyes were so bright you had a hard time focussing on anything else. 

Sure, he had a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt that had made him famous before he could even talk, but that was not what interested you. He looked kind, a bit lost and you couldn't deny he was very attractive. He sat a few seats away from you, drinking in every word your instructor spoke. You tried very hard to focus on what the instructor was saying, but you were distracted by the man with the messy hair and bright green eyes. You knew you should focus, it was just your first day of Auror training and it had always been your dream to become an Auror. After leaving Hogwarts with Outstanding grades you knew this was the career for you. 

‘Thank you for listening. Please enjoy your lunch, we’ll continue in an hour,’ the instructor suddenly said, which was followed with the noise of people talking and chairs being pushed back. You waited for the room to empty and then walked to the cafeteria. You suddenly felt very vulnerable and alone. You knew no one here and everyone else seemed to have made friends already. You passed several tables where people were sitting together, talking animatedly. Then you saw him again, sitting by himself, chewing on a piece of toast. You hesitated for a moment and then decided to sit down, you quickly introduced yourself and he shook your hand politely. He didn’t say his name, obviously used to the fact that everyone in the Wizarding World knew his name already.

‘Harry, can I ask you something?’ you had gathered all your courage to ask the man with the messy raven hair a question. 

‘Yes, I did defeat Voldermort. I was the Chosen One and killed him. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?’ he said angrily.

When you didn’t respond right away, he looked at you. 

‘Wow, you obviously have anger issues. I wasn’t going to ask anything about that. I wanted to ask if you wanted to help me with the Patronus Charm. I heard you’re really good at it and it’s the only charm I’ve been struggling with,’ you snapped back. You got up and were ready to walk away when he grabbed your wrist.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just.. Three people already asked me about Voldemort and I just don’t want to talk about it anymore’

‘I understand. I’ll leave you alone then,’ you answered coldly. Harry didn’t let go of your wrist. 

‘Please, forgive me. Sit down. I’ll answer your questions about the Patronus Charm.’ You hesitated for a moment, but you couldn’t resist the pleading look on his face. 

‘So I guess you’re not used to having a normal conversation anymore. You know, being the Chosen One and all,’ you said teasingly after you had sat down and Harry had poured you a cup of coffee. 

‘You’re the first person I meet to ask about something other than Voldemort in a long time,’ he replied with a smile. 

‘Honestly, I don’t really care about that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously very grateful you defeated him and all, but I mean, you probably talk about it all the time.’

‘Not when I can avoid it. Everything has been said. Multiple times. It’s time to look at the future.’

‘I agree. I am surprised though, to see you here, training to become an auror. I can imagine you’ve had enough of fighting the dark arts for a lifetime or two,’ you said, it was something you’ve been wondering about ever since you saw him this morning. He grinned. 

‘My friends say I’m addicted to danger, that I am always looking for trouble,’ he explained.

‘Are you?’ you asked. 

‘I feel like trouble always finds me,’ he replied with a smirk.

‘Well, I’ve been called worse,’ you answered quickly. 

‘I… didn’t mean. I.. I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. You put your hand on his arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. 

‘I’m kidding, Harry.’

The relief on his face made you laugh. For a moment you both ate in silence. It felt like you had known him for much longer than just today, there was something familiar about his presence. 

‘You know, the Patronus Charm is quite complicated actually. It would be best if we practised it for a while. You’ll learn a lot faster that way than just talking about it,’ Harry suddenly said. You looked into his green eyes, not sure what to say. 

‘We can start tonight, if you want to,’ he added. 

‘Sure, if you are free tonight,’ you answered quickly. You had no idea where you had picked up the courage. Usually when you saw a cute guy you didn’t say anything and hoped he wouldn’t notice you, but with Harry things were easy, it felt nice and comfortable to talk to him. 

‘We can go to my house, I have plenty of space. I live alone, you see,’ he explained.

‘Okay, that’ll be great,’  you answered. 

‘I look forward to it,’ he said with such a beautiful smile it filled your stomach with butterflies. 

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter short story #harry potter x fem!reader #fluff #fanfiction #hogwarts #auror #the chosen one

[arthenaa]

Upcoming Auror! Sebastian Sallow x Auror! Reader Fic Details <3

Hi guys! As some of you may know, I'll be doing a Seb Auror Fic soon which will be based in the Philippines <3. Since there's no wizarding lore yet in the PH, i've decided to set the setting first before moving w the story. Here are the details below!!

MOODBOARD

Setting:

Mid-1800s, Philippines.

Hogwarts Legacy Setting will be adjusted slightly before the events of the fiction. (At this point I suggest just not getting into it too much im getting confused as well lmfao)

Details:

(About the Filipino Wizarding Community)

Philippine Magic has deep roots in the dark arts. Wizards and Witches back then often used and were masters in the arts of dark magic. It was often a misconception that the dark arts were inherently evil and while it did hold some truth to it, it all depends on how it's used. Filipino Wizards and Witches value the proper use of dark magic to use it to help people rather than harm them. However due to the misuse of said magic because of its great power, there is then a rise of magic users who seem to use it for personal gain. So these Wizards and Witches adapted their form of dark arts into the magic that can help combat sinister magic. This evolved into healing magic which is the main core of Filipino wizardry.

Marahuyo en Mahika Akademya | Philippine School of Wizardry

(place of reference: University of Santo Tomas)

A school formed to preserve the ancestral magic and history of Filipino Wizardry, Marahuyo en Mahika Akademya is a School of Magic for Wizards and Witches in the Philippines. Founded by Maria Ana Flordeliza Santos, she opened the gates to magic users so that they may expand their knowledge, academic prowess, and capabilities in the field of magic. The school's patron deity is Bathala, the god of creation and the being who granted mahika to the people.

The process of acceptance is quite peculiar. At the young age of 11 is when young wizards and witches will be doing a sacred ritual also known as Pagtawas. While the ritual is used to detect supernatural illnesses, it also detects magical traces within the person. It is a form of healing and a sacred ritual to determine one's fate. A piece of the person's hair will be burned on a special type of candle and then its wax will be poured into a basin. If the wax produces an image or a form according to the person's true self (some form a type of animal or plant) then the person does indeed have magic. If nothing happens, there is no magic within them. From then on, their parents will be responsible for the basic magic curriculum. At the age of 15, they will then be brought to the Akademya by carriages driven by the Tikbalang tribe. They have 5 years of magical curriculum to learn during their stay there. There are three houses to be sorted in Marahuyo en Mahika;

Mayari

known for their bravery, strength, determination, ability to excel in their most desired fields and leadership. They are categorized as the warriors.

Colors: Navy Blue and Beige

Hanan

known for their optimism in the unknown, courage in taking risks, perseverance amidst challenges, and an open perspective in life. They are categorized as the pillars.

Colors: Gold and Bronze

Tala

known for their willingness in helping others, their need for knowledge, vast creativity, and wisdom. They are categorized as the shepherds.

Colors: Cyan and Silver

Philippine Bureau of Magic and Wizardry (aka PhilMaj)

(place of reference: Las Casas Filipinas De Acuzar)

The official governing office of the Philippine Wizarding Community. Inspired by Britain and America's Ministries of Magic, the PhilMaj was to be open not only to the PhilMaj community but to wizards all over the world thus the name in English. Founded by the 5 great Maharlikas (aka Aurors), the organization was created to protect the Filipino Wizarding Community from outside threats which includes 'SeroMahi' (Sero (Zero), Mahika (Magic) or the Muggles basically).

The PhilMaj exists independently and separates themselves from their seromahi counterparts as they see seromahis as a threat to their existence if they are to be found. With the Philippines experiencing a great force of oppression from outsiders, PhilMaj has done its best to stay hidden and away from its affairs (they are specifically known to hide too well that they have not encountered any type of exposure to the seromahi community. They, unfortunately, have strict rules regarding wizard —seromahi relationships and usually wizards or witches with mixed bloodlines take long processes to enter PhilMaj. MaraMahika (school) is an exception as it accepts all magic users despite their blood lineage).

Aurors also known as Maharlikas are divided in Divisions. Division I is for investigation, Division II is for order and Division III is social relations.

PhilMaj has different departments to tend to concerns.

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Department of Protection of Magical Tribes and Folk

Department of Control and Care for Magical Creatures

Department of International Social Relations

Department of Magical Education

Department of Magical Businesses and Endeavors

Department of Magical Transportation and Building

Department of Recruitment and Referrals of Wizards and Witches

Department of Mysteries

Current location of PhilMaj is in Manila, Philippines. (Guarded by the Siyokoy Tribe in the waters of Manila Bay, the waters open like a door as it parts the way underground where the PhilMaj Headquarters reside)

____________________________________________

A/N: i have a shit ton of details in my notes but im sharing the general lore or idea of the magic world in the philippines. this counts as a teaser as well 😎 lmk if i've miswritten something or if some things dont line up. you guys can add ideas as well and ill add them in my notes hehe (if you wish to be included in this fic's taglist, reply to this post or any of my posts regarding this fic ty !!)

#arthenaa #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #arthenaa auror seb fic #teaser

[theaskywalker]

Imagine working as an Auror at the British Ministry of Magic and falling in love with Theseus Scamader

Masterlist

#fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts the crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beasts the secrets of dumbledore #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #imagines #fantastic beasts imagines #1930s #england #auror #ministry of magic #falling in love

[morvantmortuary]

#morvant mortuary #vol. ii: summer #not a screamer this one just didn’t post when I thought it would #original queer horror #queer horror fiction #slasher ocs #southern slasher ocs #necromancer ocs #hector morvant-casares #hector emile morvant-casares #hex morvant-casares #hector and his reader #maxi morvant #maximilian vincent morvant #aurore morvant #aurore marie morvant #rora morvant #possible eye strain

[writing-intheundercroft]

Wreck My Plans - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 8,734

Rating: E (Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Pregnancy, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: You try to share some life-changing news with Sebastian, but it seems he has other plans. Specifically, recruiting you to join one of his missions.

A/N: Auror Seb is back! I've been writing this one in the background for a while. Who was going to warn me that writing action sequences was hard??? Next one for auror Seb is a prologue to the series :)

“You’re sure?” You ask, swallowing thickly as you process the information your fellow healer has just told you.

“Very.” She smiles broadly. “By the looks of it, ten weeks or so.  You never noticed any of the symptoms until now?”

Your hand flies down to pet your stomach, and the tiny bump that now seems obvious.  How could you have not known?  

“I figured I was just hungrier,” you admit. “Tired from the transition to the day shift, adjusting back to the time zone after traveling.”

“Yes, well no more international travel for you.” the healer advises. “Not until the baby is born.  I daresay, you might not be traveling for quite some time, especially with a young babe in hand. How’s that house in Marunweem coming along?”

You’ve been bragging about your fixer upper for months now; Sebastian has really made a dent in the work, adding another bedroom and fixing up a porch on the backside of the house.  During the week, Sebastian is poised and collected, proving time and time again to his superiors just why he deserved the promotion to senior auror.  On the weekends, he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt unbuttoned as he hammers away at the wooden planks.

More often than not, you’re ripping his shirt off for him, or situated below him on your knees.  He works so incredibly hard for the two of you and the life he wants to give you; it's hard to keep your hands to yourself.

You start piecing together the timeline, what you’d been doing all this time; when you remember where you were at, you blush at the thought.  Ten weeks ago, you and Sebastian were in Sicily, enjoying your first real holiday as a couple.  He spared no expense, renting a palazzo from an Italian wizard he’d met through a contact in the department of international magic affairs.  You’d spent three glorious weeks by the sea, eating fresh seafood and exploring every inch of Sebastian’s body at night.  

“Sebastian!” You swatted at him.  

He grinned at you, his fingers plunged inside of you.  It was positively deranged the way he began fucking you with his hand, the seed he’d just spilt inside of you pushed further in.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly. “You did agree to have my baby a few months ago, if I recall correctly…”

Sebastian’s swollen lips descended upon yours, hungrily kissing you.  To your surprise, his thick length started to swell again, clearly aroused by your whimpering and the wet sound of his spend being manipulated, pushed even closer to its goal.

“You’re incorrigible,” You laugh against his lips as he situated himself between your legs again. The room was dimly lit, only deeply burnt candles illuminating the room you’d called home for the past few days.

“What can I say?” Sebastian whispered, teeth grazing your chin. “I’m insatiable for my fiancee.”

You took in a sharp breath when you felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against your heat again. “That’s the third time tonight,” you gasped as he slid into you with ease.  Your body knew who it belonged to–Sebastian was no intrusion. Your head tilted back against the pillows, moaning as Sebastian laved his tongue up and down your sweaty throat. 

“I don’t care,” Sebastian grunted, slowly rolling his hips against you. “Three–fucking–weeks–ungh, all I want to do is have you in bed, naked, for three whole weeks uninterrupted.”

You clutch onto him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as you flutter around him again. 

“Ma’am, are you listening?”

You blink out of your daydream, looking back up at your healer. 

“What did you ask?”

“I asked if you’ve been doing any strenuous activity lately.” The healer asks.

You turn bright red, brushing the back of your neck with your hand. You’ve been bedding Sebastian nearly every night, at least when the two of you aren’t exhausted from work or feeling ill.  Neither of you ever minded to track your courses, considering they’d been tricky after years of an off-kilter schedule at St. Mungo's. 

“I’ll take it easy,” you assure the healer, who doesn’t seem all that convinced. She lets you off with a blood renewing potion and some vitamins, and you leave St. Mungo's in a daze.

Your first instinct is to run straight to the ministry, barreling into Sebastian’s office with the news.  But on second thought, it’s probably news best saved for home–you’d rather not have the most important news of your life shared in front of his colleagues. Instead, you make your way to Diagon Alley to pick up supplies for dinner, stopping by the owl post office to send a note to Poppy.  You haven’t heard from her in a little while, but you know she’ll be over the moon when she reads the news.

All is well in your life, you think.  You’ll have to move the wedding up–Ominis and Anne have been insistent you wait until the next spring, once the frost has thawed and you can have a May wedding.  You’d really rather not host your newborn at your wedding, so late autumn will have to do.  Perhaps you can sneak away to Feldcroft for the weekend with a few friends in tow, take an unbreakable vow in the center of the hamlet–

“I’m home,” You hear a voice call out.

Dropping the ladle, you wipe your hands on your skirts as you rush to greet Sebastian at the fireplace.  Skidding into the living room, your smile falters when you see the gruff expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Sebastian shakes his head, hanging his coat on the rack next to the fireplace. “Long day,” he mumbles, sliding past you to go straight into the bedroom.  You feel a bit deflated–Sebastian is rarely one to avoid your touch, but tonight is different.  You hear the bathroom door slam, the faucets turning as he fills the bath.  From what you can remember, Sebastian is only ever this grizzly after a bad day at work.  Either bad news on a case, a perpetrator that’s gotten away, or the most dire, losing a colleague. 

You tiptoe up to the bathroom, rapping your knuckles against the wooden door. 

“Come in,” Sebastian sighs.

You slip past the door, kneeling next to the clawfoot tub.  Sebastian is submerged in steaming water, bubbles dissipating in the water.  Work has been particularly stressful–he’s gone a few days without shaving, dark stubble coating his chin.

“What’s wrong?” you ask gently.

Sebastian lolls his head back against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling. “We’ve got a real pain of a case on our hands.” he mutters, tilting his head to look at you.  It’s an unspoken question, one that doesn’t need asking–he should know by now that nothing he ever shares about his cases ever leaves the four walls of your home.

“International dragon breeding ring.” He states, the water splashing as he pulls up his knees under the water. “Seems like they were trying to raise some Hebridean Blacks in the highlands.  Clearly didn’t know how to handle their dragons, so the crew was burnt to a crisp by the time we got there.”

“That’s horrible,” you shake your head.

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “I never, ever want to see bodies like that ever again.” he gags. “The worst part is now that they’re all toast, we’ve lost our only lead to the larger gang.”

“I’m sorry.” you pout, stroking his hair.

Sebastian sighs. “It’s okay.  I’m just quite tired for the day; I had a sausage roll on my way home from the office, I think I’ll just tuck in to bed early tonight.”

He notices you visibly shrink, knitting his thick eyebrows together. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“I made dinner.” you say sheepishly. “Your favorite.”

Sebastian gives you a wry look. “I’m sorry, love.  Rain check?  I really do just want to get in bed.”

Sebastian can’t see the way your hand hovers over your abdomen under the lip of the tub.  And while you’re desperate to share the news, you’d rather do so when he’s in a better mood. The last thing you want is the happy memory of your pregnancy announcement being marred by troubles at work.

“It’s fine, really.” you assure him. “I’ll pack it all up so you can take it to lunch tomorrow, bring a bit for the boys.”

Sebastian snorts, beads of water dripping from his arms as he lifts them out of the water. “I’m sure Everett and Andrew will love that.  Those two rarely ever see a home cooked meal.”  

“I’m not sure what those boys would do without me.” you say sarcastically. “Ominis was right–I have to stop feeding them so often; they’re coming back week by week like stray cats.”

“Oh please, you love babying the two of them.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. 

The word has your smile faltering, and Sebastian tilts his head, giving you a sympathetic look.

“It will happen, you know.” he puts a hand under your chin, tilting it up towards you. “I know it’s upsetting that it’s taken this long, but it’ll all work out in time.”

“Oh, that’s not–”

“Perhaps we should wait until after the wedding,” Sebastian suggests. “I mean, that’s surely the more proper thing to do. Plan it out, do it the right order.”

You turn bright red, swallowing thickly; Sebastian really has no clue. “We’ve never been proper, the two of us.”

Sebastian lets out a low chuckle, eyes darting down to your lips. “No, I don’t think we have.” The pad of his thumb traces over your lips, slipping between them.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian breathes. “I finish washing up, and I meet you in the bedroom for a cuddle.”

“Something tells me we’re not going to be cuddling.” You raise an eyebrow, eyes darting down to Sebastian’s free hand, which has slipped underneath the water and between his legs. 

“No, we’re not.” Sebastian says, voice low and needy.  Your eyes flit down to the surface of the water, rippling with every stroke of his hand. “Get in the bed, now.”

You smile, biting down on your lip as you do what he says. After all, it won’t be long before two becomes three, so you want to relish these nights for as long as you can.

You wake up when Sebastian presses his lips against yours.  He’s never been very good at kissing softly–almost always, your fiance kisses you with enough fervor to wake you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, nosing your cheek. “I wanted to kiss you before I left.  Got a message that I need to be in the office earlier than usual–all hands on deck.”

You open your eyes, blinking up at him.  He’s fully dressed in his suit, auror badge pinned to his coat pocket.  His work bag is at his feet, last night’s carefully wrapped leftovers next to it.  From the window behind him, you can see the sky is still black, a smattering of stars filling the sky.  It has to be four, maybe five o’clock in the morning.

“Send Everett and Andrew my love,” you yawn. “Tell them to enjoy the short rib.”

Sebastian snorts, mouth descending upon yours once more. “I’m starting to think you like them more than me,” he teases, nipping your lower lip with his teeth. “Have a good shift today.  I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You don’t follow Sebastian to the fireplace, instead electing to fall back into your bed for a few more hours of sleep before your shift at St. Mungo's. You’ll tell him tonight, you think, putting together the plan while you dress for the day.  Perhaps roast chicken and potatoes for dinner, and a cake with the good news on it.  You’re buzzing, eager to execute your plan once you’ve gotten home. So much so, you completely miss the owl sitting in the window, clucking at you while you hum over your cooking.

It’s only when the owl threatens to bite you that you pick up the note, deflating the minute you see the DMLE logo.  

Urgent case.  All hands on deck–we’ve been ordered to stay in the office until further notice; might be traveling internationally too.  I’ll send an owl when I know more. 

xx Sebastian

You shrug off your worries; this isn’t exactly unexpected. Given the high risk of Sebastian’s job, he’s often sequestered to the office or traveling for a case, sometimes days at a time. Perhaps the waiting will make your reveal all the more special.  You can picture Sebastian falling to the ground in front of the fireplace once you tell him after much time away from home.

After two days, you’re worried.  Come five, you’re irritated.  Ten days later, you’re thoroughly mad that this case has wrecked your plans.

It takes nearly all your willpower not to break down the doors of the auror office.  On the bright side, Sebastian knows well enough to reassure you of his good health via owl post. Per usual, he can’t say much, except that there had been a considerable development in their dragon breeding ring case.  He’s been bunking up with Everett and Andrew in the office (the two bachelors also sending thank you cards for the feast you’d cooked) and he’s quite miserable without your company.

Sebastian’s owl post gives you some peace over the miserable days, especially considering the onset of your morning sickness.  It seems that since your brain has accepted the concept of being pregnant, your body has decided to follow suit.  You’re lucky that there are plenty of other mothers working at St. Mungo’s beside you, each of them offering a sympathetic smile or a packet of crackers once you've emerged from the bathroom.

You’re just returning from a trip to the porcelain throne, wiping the corner of your mouth, only to hear your name once you pass the ward matron desk.

“Oi, ministry man is looking for you,” one of your fellow healers says, jerking their thumb back towards the ward matron’s desk. 

You whip your head around to see a sharply dressed man standing at the desk, seemingly annoying your ward matron.  He’s older and gray; there’s something familiar about his face.

It clicks–he’s Sebastian’s superior officer.

The blood drains from your face as you walk towards him, hands clenched in fists. “Can I help you?”

He says your name, bowing his head slightly. “Augustus Green, we’ve met before. You’re Sallow’s fiancee, aren’t you?”

“Is he alright?” you ask, panicking.  You instinctively press a hand to your stomach.

“Oh goodness, I should’ve started with that,” he admits sheepishly. “Sallow is fine, no cause for alarm.  I’m here to summon you for an appearance at the office.”

“Summon? Me?” you gape up at him. 

“All the information is here,” Green says impatiently, handing you a manilla folder. “And a letter for your matron to excuse you from your duties.”

It’s all a blur from there, the ward matron clicking her tongue disapprovingly when you hand over the letter.  With that task out of the way, Officer Green starts herding you to the closest floo flame.  It feels as if he’s got you by the back of your robe, pulling you into the green fire. You grip the manilla folder tighter, swallowing down the vomit in your throat.  Floo travel is safe while pregnant, but certainly not comfortable. 

When your eyes open, you’re standing in an unfamiliar office.  You know where you are though–the ministry, the DMLE office specifically.  The furnishings match Sebastian’s office, except this one is clearly larger.  There’s a woman organizing files in the corner, quickly standing to greet Officer Green on his return.

“Marlene, put a kettle on, why don’t you?” Green huffs, walking over to his chair. “And summon the task force team.  Meeting in my office.”

You cross your arms over your chest–it’s Marlene of all people, one of Sebastian’s former flings.  She gives you a phony smile, eyes flitting down to the diamond ring on your left hand.

Well, you suppose the crestfallen look on her face makes the trip to the ministry worthwhile. 

As Marlene passes through the doorway, a group of aurors makes their way inside.  A few unfamiliar faces, but then three of your favorites–Andrew Larson, Everett Clopton, and Sebastian.  Sebastian is giving you a proud grin, chest puffed out.  You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and his once sparse beard is now growing thick.  It takes all of your self control to not throw yourself into his arms, relieved to see that your fiance is still well after being away for so long.

The aurors line up against the wall, awaiting instructions.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve asked you here,” Green states, folding his hands on his desk. “We’re assembling a task force team to work on a sensitive case. We normally wouldn’t operate on foreign soil, but considering the abductee is a British citizen–”

“Pardon, abductee?” You interrupt. 

“Yes, details will be in your briefing.” Officer Green states, pointing down to the folder in your hands. “Our officers have spent the last few months tracking the smaller units of an international dragon breeding ring.  They’ve gotten sloppy since we’ve started apprehending their top breeders, and have since retreated to their home base in Norway. A British citizen has been abducted by the ring leaders of the operation, likely due to her expansive knowledge on Norwegian Ridgebacks.  Miss Sweeting is a well known magizoologist–”

Your throat goes dry, and for the first time in days, your stomach is churning from anxiety, not from morning sickness.

“Miss Sweeting was abducted from her home–sign of forced entry, her wand and personal effects were found littered throughout the property.  Our auror department has uncovered evidence that leads us to believe the criminals are keeping her on hand with the dragons to provide guidance in their breeding efforts.”

Officer Green carries on. “The task force comprises several of our best aurors, some of which were classmates of Miss Sweeting and have a personal interest in her safety. You were recommended to join the task force by Officer Sallow,” Green continues. “Considering your relationship to Miss Sweeting, and experience with dragons in the past.”

You blink at the senior officer, mouth agape. “But I’m only a healer, sir.”

“A healer will be extraordinarily important for a mission like this,” Green points out. “With the imminent danger–”

“You saved half the department once,” Andrew Larson blurts. “Rather have you on our team if we’re facing dragons and dark wizards in one go.”

The room dissolves into nervous giggles as Green swats at Andrew.  Sebastian, however, is completely unphased, smiling at you as if he’s signed you up for a field trip, not a mission across international lines to save one of your best friends.  If Poppy wasn’t the one in danger, you probably would’ve wrung his neck by now.

“As I was saying before Mr. Larson so rudely interrupted,” Green rolled his eyes. “We need a healer on the task force. We will pay you for any days missed at your regular shift, and a bonus upon return.  That, and all accommodations in Norway–”

“I’m sorry, Norway?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes, where we believe the perpetrators are keeping Miss Sweeting to assist in the breeding of their dragons.” Green interjects, tapping the briefing folder again. “We have a portkey scheduled to depart in an hour. Please review your folder beforehand.”

You hardly listen to the rest of the briefing.  The rational side of your brain is screaming at you to tell the truth–you’re pregnant, the healers just said to limit international travel, and you hardly think you should be jumping into battle with a dragon breeding ring in your condition.  Is portkey travel even safe during pregnancy?  

Your thoughts scream at you as Green dismisses the room; before your brain even registers movement, your feet are scuffling towards Sebastian’s office. He’s standing at his desk, two large duffle bags side by side. You shut the door with trembling hands.

“I took the liberty of purchasing some things you’ll need,” he says cheerfully, digging through the bag. You hold out your arms as he pushes a pair of trousers and a shirt into them. “Some wool stockings and your base layers, it’ll be cold, that’s for sure…” he trails off.

“Sebastian,” you swallow thickly. “Sebastian, I–”

“I’m sorry if this is coming across as a surprise.” Sebastian shucks off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt. “That, and for being gone for so long.  It was all hands on deck with the case; I’ve been bunking up in here with Larson and Clopton.  You have no idea how badly I want to be home.” he groans, slipping a new undershirt on.

Your brain is frazzled. You want to be angry at him, to be worried, but your heart is thumping in your chest.  It’s been too long since you’ve seen him, and you’ve been worried sick.  Your body’s first instinct is to wrap your arms around him and inhale his familiar scent.

Sebastian laughs when you do so, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know, Pet. As soon as this is done and dusted and we’ve got Poppy home, things can go back to normal.” he murmurs against your hair.

You nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, inhaling his cedar cologne. “Are you sure this is safe?  I'm not in dueling shape.” you admit sheepishly.  In your youth, you would’ve charged into combat headfirst without warning–years of working in St. Mungo's has you untrained.

Sebastian laughs, his beard tickling your face. “Safe? You’re the best duelist I know–besides myself, of course. You’ll be fine.  Besides, we mostly need you for healing purposes.  That magic of yours works a trick on burns.  Remember–”

“In the Undercroft, when you accidentally blew up a barrel of mead.” you snort at the memory.  It hadn’t been funny then, watching Sebastian writhe on the floor from the burns.  You’d fallen at his side, instinctively using your ancient magic to siphon the pain. He was healed in a matter of seconds, and it set you on the trajectory to become a healer.

“Precisely.” Sebastian licks his lips. “That, and to be with Poppy. I’m sorry, I wish I could have told you sooner, but we weren’t allowed to say.” He pulls a wand from his desk–Poppy’s wand, white ash wood with a swirling handle–and presses it into your hands. “You should hold on to it, for safekeeping.  You can give it to her once we rescue her.”

You look up at his chocolate brown eyes, lids dotted with freckles.  You want to tell him–you need to tell him–

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian pouts. “You’ve always said you wanted to come to work with me.”

You open your mouth, trying to find the words, but you can’t.  You’ll be fine, you think.  What’s one more trip?  Besides, you’ll do anything to ensure Poppy is safe.

“I don’t like your beard.” you blurt.

Sebastian roars with laughter, rubbing his jawline. “I knew you’d hate it; Clopton and Larson were egging me on to grow it out.  I don't have a razor here; I promise I’ll shave it when I get home.  Now, come on, let’s get you dressed all warm and snug. We've got a portkey to catch.”

“I’m sorry–I thought I had your size memorized.” Sebastian mutters, helping you unlace your corset.

You wince, a low hiss coming out from your lips as you let the offending garment fall to the ground.  Assessing your torso in the blurred mirror, you can see lines from the whalebone pins left in your skin.  Your hand instinctively rubs over your stomach silently apologizing to the babe inside of you for being squished all afternoon.  

“The portkey couldn’t just drop us off here, at the inn?” You complain, slipping one of Sebastian’s clean shirts over your head.  

“We couldn’t draw attention to ourselves, you know that,” Sebastian tuts. “Besides, I thought you enjoyed hiking?”

“I enjoy hiking when it's planned.” you groan, falling back against the bed. “Almost thought I’d ask Andrew to cart me up the mountain.”

Sebastian starts unlacing your boots, letting the heavy shoes fall to the floor.  Your woolen stockings are peeled off next, laid out next to the fireplace to stay warm.  He carefully unlaces and works your trousers off your legs, draping them over a stool.  

“I am sorry.” Sebastian says, climbing into bed next to you.  Your muscles are sore, legs like jelly after the long trek.  Knowing this, he pulls your legs into his lap, working his thumbs into your calves to massage them. “I thought it might be fun.”

You snort. “Fun? Sebastian, we’re on a mission to find Poppy, who's been taken hostage by dragon dealers. That hardly sounds like fun.” Your head falls back against the pillows, which have definitely seen better days.

“I know, but they were looking for a healer to join the force, and I knew you were the right person.” Sebastian reminds you, nimble fingers moving down to massage your sore feet. “Besides, it’s kind of fun to work together, isn’t it?  Reminds me of the good old days.”

“Ah, yes, the good old days.” you parrot back to him. “Us, running like vigilantes around the highlands. Stealing bounty from old chests, blasting away at acromantulas.”

“What can I say?  We were spirited teenagers.” Sebastian chuckles.  His fingers slow, making deliberate circles in the arch of your foot. “I wanted us to have one more good adventure before we settled down, got married.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. “We won’t have adventures after we’re married?  Thanks for the vote of confidence.” you jest.

“You know what I mean,” Sebastian shrugs. “After we’re married and we’ve got kids in the house, we’ll be boring old parents.” he wrinkles his nose. “Might as well bank up a few good stories for the children while we still can.”

Your smile falters. “Do you really think we’ll be that boring?”

“We’ll have to be, won’t we?” Sebastian sighs. “I’ll probably take some time off after the baby is born, of course.  And when I’m back to work, I’ll ask to be reassigned to low risk cases.  So, in the meantime, I’ll enjoy all the tough stuff while I still can.”

You should tell him.  You really do need to tell him.

You don’t.

He sounds so glum, trading in a life of adventure and danger for nappies and lullabies.  Perhaps his interest in fatherhood was just spurred by the renewal of your relationship. It makes sense that he’d start thinking more clearly now that it’s been nearly a year together.  Merlin, maybe he’s already bored of the little life you’ve created together–the house on a hill, far from the bustling city.  The logical side of your brain reminds you that Sebastian loves you, dotes on you, hand and foot (quite literally, the man is still massaging your feet).  Yet the irrational side of your brain, likely flooded with pent-up hormonal energy, reminds you that he hasn’t been home in days . 

“You still love me, right?”  Gods, the words sound pathetic coming out of your mouth.

“Of course I do.” Sebastian’s eyes widen. “How could you think otherwise?”

“It’s nothing.” you say quickly, waving him off. “Just a stupid intrusive thought.”

Sebastian clicks his tongue, pushing your legs from his lap.  You stay, perched on your elbows, watching him move in between your legs. With a mischievous smile, Sebastian picks up your foot, pressing a kiss to your ankle.

“Then it seems I’ll have to work extra hard to put those thoughts to bed,” Sebastian whispers lowly.  His tongue laves circles up your calf, eyes trained on you while his mouth moves up, up, up your thigh.

“You colleagues are in the other room.” You croak.

“We have magic, don’t we?” Sebastian teases. “ Silencio should do the trick, unless I’ve made you forget basic spellcasting.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your throat.

It’s against your better judgment, but you reach over to the side table to grab your wand.  Flicking it at the door, you mutter the silencing charm under your breath.  The room suddenly feels like a bubble, no noise from the outside world permitted in, and vice versa.

“We can’t go crazy,” you whimper as Sebastian takes a deliberate lick, pressing a kiss to your center. A moan slips from your mouth, head crashing against the flat pillows. “We have to wake up– oh, yes, right there –ugh, Sebastian, we have to wake up early.”

Sebastian grins, teeth grazing your skin lightly as he presses a languid kiss to the crease of your thigh. “I won’t keep you awake too long.” he promises, before diving back between your legs.

Sebastian knows you–almost a little too well, you think.  Somehow he knows the sex you need is tender and soft, his hips rocking into yours while he whispers how much he missed you, how he longs to come home to your bed.  His hand ghosts over your abdomen, but you quickly pull it up to your lips, pressing soft kisses to his worn knuckles. When he comes, face buried in your neck, he can't stop telling you how much he loves you. It isn't long before Sebastian drifts to sleep, lightly snoring against your skin with his arms wrapped around you. His beard tickles your shoulders, but you’ve missed him too much to push him away.

You flick your wrist at the candles, quickly extinguishing the fire.  With only pale moonlight streaming in through threadbare curtains, you pull the blankets up to your neck, focusing on Sebastian’s steady breathing.

Steady. Unwavering (except the time that you broke up…well, he’s more than made up for that by now). Dependable, devoted. Sebastian is going to make the most amazing father. You shut your drooping eyelids, reassuring yourself that Sebastian will be excited when you finally get to share your news.

“I'm freezing.” you spit out, shivering from the cold air.

“We’ve been waiting for hours,” Everett complains, recasting an anti-fogging spell on his glasses. “Larson should’ve made contact by now.”

“We have to stick to the plan,” Sebastian bites back. “Larson was to make contact with the dealers, send a signal leading to his location.  If he didn’t by sundown, we’d abandon the post and go back to the inn.”

While Sebastian had kept you busy the night prior, Andrew had gone undercover.  Your sweet Ravenclaw friend is unassuming, and quite the actor it seems–he reported at breakfast to say the breeders had given him coordinates to a meeting point, where he’d be given the opportunity to purchase a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg. Poking at his poached egg, Andrew assured the group that he’d send a patronus signal for back up once he’d identified the location of the operation.

Waiting for Andrew’s signal is excruciating, the better half of the day spent sitting around a now nearly burnt out campfire. You were pacing back and forth in the snow, drumming your fingers against your throat.  While you’re sure Andrew can hold his own (he has for years now, Sebastian tells you–a surprisingly astute duellist, much improved from his days in Crossed Wands) you hate the idea of your cheerful blond friend being alone.

Sebastian stands up, brushing snow from his pants. “It’ll be dark soon,” he muses. “We should start heading down to the inn soon.”

Your eyes widen. “And leave Andrew?”

“Andrew is an auror, Pet.” Sebastian reminds you. “One of our best.  He’ll be just fine getting down the mountain on his own.”

“If he needed back up, he would’ve called by now.” Everett tries to assure you, wiping his fogged up glasses again. “Gosh, I hope we’re only here another day or so–I fear my chomping cabbages are dead by now, I’ve been away from home for too long.”

“We can’t possibly leave him,” you gasp, stomping your foot in the snow. “I won’t allow it.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to argue with you, but clamps it shut when the sky darkens.  

“Take cover!” he roars, grabbing you and tackling you to the snow.  You gasp, curling into him as he rolls you behind a collection of boulders. In seconds, Everett has joined you.  His mouth is hanging open, staring up at the massive dark spot soaring above you.

“Sweet mother of Merlin,” Everett gasps. “Is that–”

“A Norwegian Ridgeback,” Sebastian grunts, tucking you in tighter to his chest. “A young one, based on the size, but still dangerous.”

Peeking over Sebastian’s shoulder, you can see a young dragon soaring overhead.  You can see the cracked collar, chains hanging from its neck. The poor beast is clawing at the collar, a high pitched squeal coming from its mouth as it flaps its wings. When its jaw opens, you can see the flames curling up from the back of its throat.  Sebastian backs into you, an arm curling around your waist to keep you shielded from the heat. 

“Protego!” you hear a familiar voice scream. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Sebastian spits out.  He peeks around the boulder, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as his jaw falls open.  You stand to sneak a peek, equally shocked at the sight before you.

Andrew is running, bloodied with gashes in his clothes.  His blond hair is matted down and you’re not sure if it’s from blood or melted snow.  Wand extended, Andrew casts a shield charm to protect himself from the fire and waves of green curses.  His arm is looped through a short brunette’s, her wrists bound in goblin-forged silver cuffs. It’s Poppy, who is yelling at Andrew to avoid hurting the young dragon. Several breeders are chasing after them, firing curse after curse on Andrew’s heels. 

“A little help here!” Andrew roars, waving his arm the second he spots his colleagues.

The aurors break into action with little hesitation. Sebastian and Everett waste no time sprinting towards their partner. It feels like you’ve barely had a second to blink before the flashes of red and green start clashing around you.  Sebastian jumps to avoid a well-aimed shot, rolling to the ground before firing a countercurse at his attacker. His hair is covered in powdery snow, cheeks red from the cold as he fires off a defensive spell set.  You watch him, mouth agape, barely registering his voice calling out your name. 

“Get Poppy out of here!” Sebastian hollers. “Both of you, before the dragon circles back!”

Right, you think, shaking out of your stupor.  You run, feet slowed by the snow, towards your friend.  She grabs your hands as soon as you reach her, staring at you in a panic.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Poppy shrieks.

Over her shoulder, you can see one of the breeders teeing up a spell.  With ease, you raise a boulder from behind him to knock him down the hill.  In doing so, you’ve drawn attention to yourself, the other breeders realizing that you’re a bigger threat than anticipated.

“Here for you,” you assure her. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Poppy panics. “I got your letter, the morning they broke into my flat–”

“That’s the least important thing right now,” you screech, firing off a countercurse; the rebound is so strong, both of you are nearly knocked off your feet.

“But the baby!” Poppy shouts. “This isn’t safe!”

“Now is hardly the time to be scolding me,” you argue, panting as you channel your ancient magic to disintegrate one of your attackers. “The baby will be fine, I’m more worried about you!”

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

Now you’ve really let the cat out of the bag, you think between spell combinations. You pause in place, braid whipping through the wind, to see Sebastian staring at you across the way.  His eyes are as wide as saucers, blinking rapidly as his mouth opens and shuts.

“Congratulations, guys!” Everett yells sarcastically, glasses now fully fogged from the fighting. “Think we can discuss this another time?”

“You’re pregnant?” Sebastian shrieks.

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” you pant, dodging a curse, “but you’ve been gone, I only just found out the day before you left–”

“We have to get you out of here!” Sebastian panics, running towards you from across the field. “You’re pregnant!  This is unsafe!”

“We don’t have time for this conversation!” You roar, casting confringo on the poachers drawing near.

“Careful with the heat, it’ll be bad for the baby!” Sebastian chides, but you roll your eyes.

“You got me into this mess, Sallow!  Both messes, I might add.” You say through gritted teeth.  It’s true–he’s the one who got you pregnant in the first place, and then volunteered you to join a covert mission. Honestly, you might find his rapid shift in attitude hilarious if you weren’t being rained down upon by flames and curses.

“We had sex, is that bad for the baby?” Sebastian asks. “For him? Or her?  Oh Merlin, what if it’s a girl–”

“I’m sorry,” Everett raises a brow, sidestepping a diffindo that had been thrown his way. “The two of you were shagging last night when we were supposed to be preparing for a mission?”

“You two are disgusting!” Andrew spits, casting stupefy on his assailant. 

“Can someone please figure out a way to get me out of these cuffs?” Poppy roars, shaking her still shackled wrists. “And does anyone have my wand by any chance?”

You curse under your breath, wiggling Poppy’s wand out of your too-tight breeches. She grasps her wand with both hands, wincing as you channel your ancient magic into snapping the metal.  Her wrists are rubbed raw from spending weeks in chains, but she shakes them out as she reacquaints herself with her wand.

The sky goes dark again; the dragon circles in the air, flapping wings causing the entire battle to cease while everyone braces in the snow.  

“You need to get out of here,” Sebastian hisses. “I’m begging you–”

“And leave you here, with this lot and the dragon? Absolutely not.” you snap. “The father of my child needs to see another day.”

“Hello!” Everett screams. “There’s still a fight going on here, if the two of you haven’t– ouch !”

Both of you turn your heads to see Everett laying in the snow, groaning.  One of the breeders is stomping towards him, twirling his wand in hand.  Nostrils flared, you push Sebastian aside and aim your wand.  With barely even a flick, the man is thrown back against the snow, a disconcerting crack ringing through the air.

Not your boys , you think.  You plan to see all of these aurors back to London, alive and without injury.

“Poppy,” you yell, firing basic casts at the approaching breeders. “Can you secure the dragon?”

“Working on it!” Poppy’s voice is muffled, her wand between her teeth.  You can see her, your little firecracker of a friend, trying to scale the rocks to get closer to the dragon.  As the country’s leading expert on dragons, you hope she’ll have the dragon under control before long. She’s babbling towards the beast, cooing reassuring words as it snorts steam.

“Bertie, calm down.” You hear Poppy cluck at the dragon, her hands held high. “It’ll be alright–”

Andrew, who has foregone his wand, punches one of the breeders squarely in the nose. Shaking his hand out, he turns back to Poppy. “Bertie? Bertie, who you were droning on about while I was trying to rescue you, is the damn dragon?” he yells. “The one who was trying to kill us just a bit earlier?”

“I was alone!” Poppy shrieks back. “You try being alone with just dragons for two weeks, you would start naming them too!  And he was not trying to kill us, he’s just afraid–”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hollers. “Can you two behave?”

Sebastian is shouting at both Andrew and Poppy, and doesn’t see the breeder approaching from his left.  His arm is raised, a knowing smirk on his phase as he brandishes his wand at your fiance. Sebastian is too preoccupied with scolding his subordinate to notice the flickering red tip of the breeder’s wand, teeing up what you can only imagine is the cruciatus curse.

You don’t have time to shriek.  Instead, you feel your anger bubbling up through your fingertips, the telltale signs of your ancient magic starting to spill from your hands.  You’re running, wand arm raised, about to attack when you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs.  Your body betrays you, losing balance as you crumple to the snow with no control.  There’s a sharp ache in your head, ears ringing as you try to make sense of what’s going on. As if life is stuck in slow motion, you see a sizable boulder plop into the snow next to you.

A fucking rock.  You’ll be damned if you let a rock take you out.

Trying to stand, your knees buckle beneath you.  The sharp ache in your head starts pounding, and you can’t stop blinking your bleary eyes. Fingers grazing your temple, you’re shocked at the slippery sensation on your fingertips.  Droplets of bright red dot the pristine white snow, and despite your fuzzy vision, you can tell that it's your own blood on your hands.  

“Oh, shit.” you slur.

It feels like you’re underwater (a sensation you know well from the Keeper’s trials during your fifth year).  Things are slower, soupier almost.  You can see Sebastian’s head turn when another auror shouts at him, and he narrowly misses a flurry of red bolts aimed at him from one of the attackers.  Skidding in the snow, Sebastian fires a counter curse that knocks the breeder off the edge of the cliff.

Someone is shouting your name, and Sebastian turns his head.  You think you’ll remember the look of horror on his face forever, a twisted grimace as he dashes towards you.  You want to sit up, but your body says otherwise–your head is pounding, and perhaps it’ll feel better if you sleep.  Sebastian is patting your cheeks with cold hands, repeating your name like a prayer as you hear the commotion ensue behind the two of you.

“Stay with me,” Sebastian pleads. “I’m sorry–”

You don’t hear anything after that. 

When you open your eyes, you’re in St. Mungo’s.  Specifically, the intensive care unit, your own ward.

“What the hell?” you mumble, leaning up on your elbows.

“Oh thank Merlin, you’re awake.” Sebastian sighs with relief.  You turn to look at the brunette next to you–his head is in his hands, dark waves unkempt and tangled from sleep. His beard is the longest you’ve ever seen it, shaggy and uncombed. After taking in a deep breath, he launches himself to your bed, fingers pressed against your pulse.  Once he’s determined that you are in fact well, he presses a firm kiss to your forehead.

“Is the–”

“The baby is alright,” Sebastian smiles. “Healers have been checking on you two probably twice an hour for the last two days.”

“Two days?” you gape. “I’ve been out for two days?”

“It was a nasty hit.” Sebastian shudders. “I was so worried about you, I haven’t been able to sleep,” he admits.  The chair next to you has become his little nest; bundles of blankets are tossed on the floor, a hospital grade pillow squished into the back of the chair.

“What happened?” you wince as you sit up. Sebastian immediately places more pillows behind your back, handing you a cup of water from the night stand. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone is alright,” Sebastian assures you. “Everett broke his arm, but that was quick to mend.  Andrew looked like a champion prizefighter, that’s for sure.  I think he likes the black eye, he thinks it makes him a bit more popular amongst the ladies at the pub.”

“And Poppy?” You ask between gulps. Merlin, you really must have been out for two days–you’re positively parched.  Before you can set the cup down, Sebastian casts aguamenti and you’re happily sipping once more.

“Safe and healthy.” Sebastian promises. “Let’s just say Bertie the dragon really bonded with Poppy while they were imprisoned together.  He made quick work of the breeders.”

You blink at your fiance, brows furrowed as you try to make sense of his comment.  When he bares his teeth and clicks his jaw open and shut, you cover your mouth with your hands.

“He ate them?” you gape. 

“Well, it was us or the breeders.” Sebastian scoffs. “Better them than me.”

“I suppose that’s why the dragon was chasing after Andrew,” you muse. “He thought Andrew was trying to kidnap Poppy, not save her.”

“Spot on.” Sebastian laughs. “Speaking of, there are some people who’d like to see you.”

The door opens, and your friends spill through the door as if they’ve been waiting right outside the entire time.  The normally stoic Anne runs to you, clutching your forearm. Ominis stands over her, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.  

“I can’t believe the two of you.” Ominis shakes his head. “Battling a dragon in the first trimester.”

Sebastian furrows his brow. “Hey–I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”

“And I would’ve gone regardless.” You declare, pulling Sebastian’s hand into your own.

Andrew, Everett, and Poppy file into the room after your sister and brother-in-law. Everett has his arm in a sling, while Andrew still looks like hell.  Poppy has a few bandages on her hands, but she easily slides down at your side next to Anne.  The brunette girl gives you a teary eyed smile, mouthing her thanks.

“First mission and you get taken out by a damn boulder.” Andrew laughs.  His knuckles are bruised and cut, black eye starting to go green around the edges. “I thought you’d be an asset to the team, but you ended up a liability.”

“Oh shush,” you wave him off, pressing your hand to the soft edge of your belly. “You needed me.”

“That we did,” Everett says softly, squeezing your hand. “Thank you.  I would’ve been clobbered off the cliff if it weren’t for you.”

“I can’t believe you volunteered to come along pregnant.” Andrew blurts. “Are you insane?”

“It was for Poppy.” You admit, winking at your favorite magizoologist. “I’d do anything for her.”

“Well, I must demand that you start relaxing.” Poppy declares. “You shouldn’t lift a finger for the rest of your pregnancy.  If Sallow volunteers you for any missions, Bertie will take his head–you have my word.”

“Rest assured she won’t be doing anything but relaxing from now on.” Sebastian says firmly, crossing his arms. “I’ve already had a discussion with the ward matron about your leave of absence–”

You hold your hand up. “Sebastian, I’m not going to stop working. You know that.”

“You’re going to take a few weeks off to rest,” Sebastian continues. “Trust me, the matron told me they’ve had enough of your puking.”

You lick your lips, eyes roving the room as you take in the scene.  It’s all of your favorite people in one room, the people your child will know best.  You imagine your child growing up with them–visits from Aunt Poppy and her wild beasts, dinners with Andrew and Everett. You swallow thickly imagining Anne and Ominis doting over your newborn, and tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Are you tired?” Sebastian’s voice brings you back down to ear, his gentle murmur in your ear.

You nod, squeezing his hand.

“We’ll all be off, then.” Ominis announces. “Anne and I will get started on planning your elopement.”

You wipe at your eyes, which are now properly tearing up. “You don’t need to plan our wedding.” You let out a watery laugh.

“You’ll have the best wedding.” Anne assures you. “Certainly better than ours; I still remember Sebastian’s dates fighting on the dance floor–”

“I think that’s a story for another time,” Sebastian interjects hastily. “My wife is tired, she should get some rest.”

The motley crew files out of your hospital room, each promising to follow up with you in the days to come.  Ominis has to practically tear Anne away from you, your sister-in-law spouting questions about wedding cakes while her husband pushes her out the door.  He winks an unseeing eye at the two of you, his best friends, before the door clicks shut.

Immediately, Sebastian is climbing into your bed, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“We’re having a baby.” Sebastian says softly, his large palm flattening over your belly. “You’re having our baby.”

“We’re having a baby.” You echo, turning to him in the bed.  The hospital beds at St. Mungo’s aren’t big by any means, and Sebastian will have a backache if he sleeps with you–but it doesn’t look like he’s planning on going anywhere.

Sebastian’s eyes are trained on you, hungrily taking in every detail of your face. “I can’t wait,” he garbles out, eyes watery. “You’re giving me a family.  Gods, I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” You ask gently, pressing a palm to his cheek.  Tears start streaming down his face, sniffling his freckled nose.

“For everything . Dragging you into a mission with a fucking dragon,” Sebastian laughs. “For tackling you on the mountain. Being gone for nearly two weeks, not giving you the opportunity to tell me.  For wasting so much time–for not making you my wife earlier. Merlin, if I hadn’t been such a bonehead five, six years ago, things could’ve been so different–”

You press a fingertip to his lips. “I won’t have them any other way,” you whisper. “I’m so happy. You’re happy, aren’t you? You’re not upset?”

Sebastian laughs harder, shaking his head. “I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to be a father.” he says gleefully. “How could I possibly be upset?”

You chew on your lower lip. “The night I meant to tell you, you said something about us waiting until after the wedding. And at the inn, you seemed so worried that we’d be boring once we had a baby. Rather thought I was ruining your plans for us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I can't believe I ruined the surprise.  Darling, I was being an absolute cad that night; I can't believe I didn't see it coming.  You'd made my favorite dinner, and I turned it down for a sausage roll.” he says dramatically, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry about what I said at the inn. Pet, you and I could never be boring. Not while we’re together.”

“And you’ll be okay getting married earlier?” you ask nonchalantly, drawing circles on his chest. “Even if it wrecks our plans for a spring wedding?”

“I’ll marry you tomorrow if you let me.” Sebastian murmurs. “Fuck the plans. The only thing that matters to me is our family.”

You pull Sebastian into a hug, face nuzzling into his beard. He’s whispering into your ear–promising to shave his beard, to finish the flooring in the second bedroom as soon as he’s back home. He’ll take a few weeks off now that this case is over, and perhaps he’ll apply for low-risk cases now that he’s a father. He talks about your wedding, about how you can still get married in the center of Feldcroft if he can conjure enough tents.

Your eyelids are drooping, head resting against his chest when you think back to the topic of weddings. 

“Earlier when Anne was talking about her and Ominis’s wedding–you had two dates?” you ask sleepily. “What was that about?”

Sebastian lets out a roar of a laugh, pressing his lips against your hair. “A story for another time.  It’ll make you laugh, I promise.” he assures you. “I’ll tell you when you wake up.”

You nod, shutting your eyes.  Tucked into Sebastian’s arms, you fall asleep against his chest.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #writing-intheundercroft #auror sebastian sallow #dad sebastian sallow #domestic sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #ngl I love andrew larson in this series #ominis and anne would plan great parties #poppy is a bamf per usual

[your-nanas-house]

During a night

◇ Pairing: Professor Ominis Gaunt X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: slightly smut, angst, forbidden relationships, alchol

◇ Summary: Ominis Gaunt accept to go at a pub with his friend Sebastian Sallow.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I'm not posting so much lately but I'm alive and I have already wrote a lot of stories...I just need to find the willing to translate them all. There will be a part 2 and a part 3 where Sebastian will meet Y/n again. Let me know if you are interested, darling..and if I should write it.

The evening when Sebastian Sallow managed to convince his friend Ominis Gaunt to go out with him for some fun was an evening that everyone would consider to be 100% English with rain that started and stopped whenever it wanted, fresh air and lots of people with umbrellas ready.

The streets were not very crowded, Ominis could only hear the sound of the rain tapping softly but firmly against the surfaces it encountered on its path, there were no shouts or voices of other people apart from that of his brown-haired friend.

The Gaunt had only accepted the invitation that evening because he had nothing else to do and needed a break from the demanding tasks that a Hogwarts professor had, he had also agreed to wear what Sebastian had chosen for him which was a very British outfit but one that made him feel comfortable and that was also quite comfortable despite being made up of several pieces.

He didn't know for sure the plans for that evening because Sallow had decided to keep him in the dark, taking him to a place unknown to him; it wasn't a familiar place, there were a lot of noises, music in the background, different smells that could confuse anyone and voices of all kinds. Ominis had no idea where he was, he didn't feel very comfortable there, but Sebastian assured him that he would have a good time after he had a couple of drinks and forgot his job.

The young man spoke as if it wasn't the first time he had done so, which worried the Gaunt's heir but not enough to engage in the conversation right then and there, so he decided to accept the firewhiskey he was given as he made an attempt to relax listening to his friend complain about life and badmouth his fellow Aurors.

The evening continued in this way until gentle footsteps followed by female voices interrupted them, Ominis could not see who had stopped to speak to them but from Sebastian's tone he could guess they were young women; there were three distinct voices, two squeaky and one sweet as honey.

He heard their clothes move and then guessed that they were moving to sit at the table with them, Ominis could hear from the tone of voice the girls' visible interest in them but dared not say anything, letting Sebastian enjoy himself and speak for them both.

That was until the two girls proposed to go dancing with the others, Sebastian accepted almost immediately getting up and turning to the third girl hoping she would go with them, a slight hint of his interest hidden in his tone of voice, probably also in his gaze but the young girl refused not wanting to dance amongst so many people.

This way Ominis Gaunt and the young stranger were left alone at the table; she was the first to open her mouth and start a conversation with him, her voice was sweet, seductive and decidedly pleasant just like her perfume.

It had been some time since the young Gaunt had thought about interacting romantically with a person of the opposite sex but that evening, perhaps because of the alcohol, he wanted to get to know this witch better, whose name he discovered to be Y/n.

They drank a few drinks together, talking and joking, their bodies grew closer and closer, their legs almost brushed against each other, they could almost hear the soft sound of the fabrics of their clothes touching and they could also feel each other's warmth with the scent that was slowly driving Ominis crazy.

When he opened his mouth again to speak he was interrupted by Y/n who warned him that he had seen Sebastian leaving the pub without him; this statement made Ominis pause for a moment not knowing how to react, whether to follow Sebastian or to stay there with Y/n. The decision was soon than made, it was practically immediate as soon as Y/n hesitantly placed her hand on the man's muscular thigh, slowly caressing it as she made him a proposition that Ominis would never normally have accepted if it had been another stranger asking him, but with her he accepted it immediately trying not to look so desperate.

They both stood up and he let her take his hand, guiding him to a more secluded area of the club until they entered a room, Ominis could recognise the fact that he had changed areas because now the noises were more muffled and less deafening than before.

He didn't have to do anything because Y/n took the initiative, pushing him gently against the nearest wall, her lips connected with his neck leaving small wet kisses followed by little licks that reached his collarbone before they ended; the wizard's breathing was heavy, his head was leaned against the wall slightly tilted towards the ceiling, his arms motionless at his sides as he let Y/n take care of him, driven by lust.

Their lips met in a hungry kiss, Ominis' arms wrapped around her small body like a snake, drawing her even closer to him.

Her legs latched onto his side and their positions quickly reversed, leaving the wizard in control as well. He was grinding rapidly against her, almost like an animal in heat, causing her to moan in pleasure followed by gasps and meows.

They both needed more but a voice all too familiar to Ominis interrupted them 'Ominis? Are you in here? It's getting late shall we go back to Feldcroft?"; it was Sebastian's voice.

Sadly that deep voice brought some sense back to them both and the two slowly parted awkwardly, exchanging a quick kiss as a farewell before going separate ways.

The sweet and delicate smell mixed with the spicy act continued to haunt Ominis' thoughts until school started again and he had to concentrate on his lessons like he was doing at that very moment, lost in thought as he waited for his students.

His thoughts came to an end when a voice brought him to reality, a warm, honey-sweet voice, a voice he had heard months ago and was now speaking to him again "Good morning Professor Gaunt".

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter, @huntress-valkyrie

#ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x y/n #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis smut #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow #auror sebastian sallow #maybe future sebastian sallow smut

[cutefoxybubble]

Hi!! :)

how about some headcanons or an imagine about Theseus and reader (from another department in the ministry) flirting at work and just being cute whenever they see each other

xxx

yes sure! thanks for requesting

Theseus Scamander || Headcanons

Pls don't mind my bad grammar eh

Theseus Scamander x Reader

AGHHHH THESEUS SCAMANDER. I just love him, don't mind me lmao :)

okay so where to begin like-

Being a member of the Oblivator squad from Department of Magical Accidents and Casatropes you would often be required at the fields and the Auror Office

Yes, They do need the help of your team to clean up the evidence when Aurors make slips up infront of muggles in their missions

And you see him. Oh dear Merlin. Theseus

It's not the first time you've caught him staring at you whenever you two work together

and there went your heart beating like crazy

He would just stare at you even more, just because he knows it makes you flustered and all

Oh how bad you wanted to wipe off that smirk off his face

He clearly knows what he's doing

You two are friends somehow

Also not you taking every chance to visit The Department of Magical Law Enforcement at work

You would wave at him if you see him while you're passing by

or just stop by his office if he's free

And dear boy, doesn't that makes his heart flutter

He would run up to you, pausing whatever the work he's doing. Yes, the same Theseus Scamander who is dedicated toward his work would do that just to speak to you.

He likes to ruffle your hair every chance he gets much to you annoyance

He would invite you to have a coffee time to time

Oh the things his smile does to you

He'd tease you a lot, just to get your annoyed reaction

"It's fun to mess with you," he would say

You being you would compliment him all the time. Which leaves this badger a blushing mess

He would clear his throat, the tips of his ears gone bright red

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" He asks

"I don't know, am I?" You would say, while continuing to do so ;)

One time you expressed your worry about him fighting Grindelwald and he hugged you. YES. he's a hugger, remember?

He would hold both your hands together and will assure that he will be careful

This man would do anything to gain your attention

Him suddenly sneaking behind you and scaring you to death, which led you to punch him in the face one time. Unexpected

Small notes at your desk, a flower or a cup of coffee in the mornings

You had to patch up his bloody nose, and you didn't even try control you laugh

I hope u enjoy it heh. Idk if it's good but yea-

anyways thank u for being patient and for the request again 😭<3

#theseus scamander #theseus x reader #the secrets of dumbledore #fantastic beasts 3 #headcanon #character x reader #fluff writing #being cute #lol #wizarding world #head auror #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beats the crimes of grindelwald #request writing