#bertie botts every flavour beans

[orderoftheavengers]

“Boh”

Summary: Maleficent Jadis rejects her Death Eater family and goes by a Muggle-sounding nickname, M.J.

House: Ravenclaw

Blood Status: Pureblood  

Wand: Wytch Elm, 11 inches, Thestral tail hair

Broom: Hates flying; prefers teleportation methods

Patronus: Crow

Specialties: Potions, Charms, Legilimancy, Occlumency, Numerology, magical drawing, teleportation, and her own spell: "Boh"  

Sorting:

The Jadis-Wandson family was not pleased to see Maleficent break family tradition and go into Ravenclaw. Largely lacking in the rest of her family's Slytherin ambition, M.J. drifts wherever her curiosities take her. She's extremely observant and perceptive, even compared to the rest of the Ravenclaw class. She hides and reveals her deductions with her dry wit. She excels at Potions, Numerology and Charms, but failed Muggle Studies miserably. Though noble and brave when necessary, M.J. is no Gryffindor. She's terrified of heights and doesn't even like flying, instead preferring Appiration (which she illegally mastered before beginning her first year—with some push from that Slytherin family, no doubt). Her fighting style is pragmatic, and while she cares about social justice, she tends to lack Peter's idealism. Ravenclaws are known to think outside the box, and if MJ isn’t a Goth Luna Lovegood, then I don't know what she is. Wand:

MJ’s favorite tree is the Wytch Elm, because of the famous murder. Due to her fascination with death, the Thestral hair core is no surprise. She sure that every wand she tried at Ollivander's "malfunctioned" until she got one the Gothest-looking stick in the store. But Ollivander always admired the most eccentric wand owners, and pegged this kid as a fellow Ravenclaw long before M.J. even considered that she might not go straight into Slytherin. For the rest of her school career, M.J. thought of Ollivander as an inspiration, and took joy in perplexing and creeping out her fellow classmates and professors with her eccentricities just as the old wandmaker did with his customers. "A Fusion of Luna Lovegood and Moaning Myrtle, with a dose of Bellatrix LeStrange!"

...is how M.J.'s classmates, and occasionally professors, described her, when they thought she wasn't listening, and wouldn't take it as a compliment. M.J. disdained her mother's family, the blood-purist Jadis house; but she outright disowned her father's, the infamous Wandsons (murderous dark wizards from the States). The Wandson family was closely related to the Blacks, hence M.J. sharing traits with her Aunt Bellatrix, Uncle Sirius, and cousin Nymphadora Tonks. Since all of her good relatives were dead, she tended to hang out with ghosts more than the living, at least until becoming friends with Peter and Ned. She regularly surprised her classmates by literally appearing out of thin air. She usually popped up to make dry, quippy observations over a copy of the Quibbler. She frequently interrupted Filch's detentions to draw moving, talking pictures of wizards in crisis.   By early second year, it was "kind of obvious" to MJ that Peter Parker was the Spider-Wizard. Shortly before this, she'd invented her first spell, at age twelve. That previous summer, M.J. had upset her family, by bluntly pointing out all of the reasons her cousin Delphi couldn't possibly be related to the Dark Lord. All of this, after brushing off her being dusted by Thanos and resurrected with a blasé pragmaticism. "Boh" It was during a class trip to Beauxbatons that M.J. casually showed Peter her new spell: "Boh." What does "Boh" do? It's a conjuring spell, that shoots any short-term need out of one's wand: fire, water, light, a forcefield, Bertie Bott's beans, you name it. The spell only lasts seconds, but it's a lifesaver in a pinch. "Boh" would go on to serve the group well when battling dark wizards like Mysterio. Obliviate! Even the most powerful Memory Charm, cast by the world's most powerful sorcerer, doesn't have 100% of a hold on M.J.'s mind. When a dweeb named Peter Parker enters the Leakey Cauldron and orders a butterbeer from her, M.J. knows instantly that she's seen him before, and there's something very significant about him. For some reason, she thinks of him whenever she casts "Boh."  

AN: I really enjoyed cooking up this backstory for Hogwarts M.J. I'm not thrilled with how "No Way Home" ended, but it worked perfectly into this Potterverse AU.  

#michelle jones #mj #spider-man #mcu #order of the avengers #marvel #Hogwarts house #hogwarts au #ravenclaw #wand #digital art #fan art #art #leaky cauldron #bertie bott's every flavour beans #poton #wizard card #tony stark #peter parker #black dahlia #necklace #spiderman no way home #feather #magic #fantasy #au #chibi #boh #italian

[that-starry-eyed-girl-22]

Idk how some people use only one personality trait to describe another person. Like, "Oh, they're funny" or "Oh, that person's smart".

I'm funny yet serious. Smart but stupid. Introverted yet extroverted. Frank but diplomatic. Talkative yet occasionally quiet. Energetic but tired. Sarcastic but polite. Calm but anxious. Pragmatic yet imaginative. I'm like the human equivalent of the BeanBoozled challenge or Bertie Botts Every Flavoured beans, you never know which flavor you'll get until you try it. Maybe it should be called oxymoronic personality disorder.

#personality #funny #rant #funny post #sarcasm #harry potter #Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans #potterhead #confused #why am i like this #astronomy #life #smart #serious #introvert #joke #idk who i am #BeanBoozled #oxymoron #meme

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」

Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]

Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

Warnings:angst, smut, fluff

Words: 13.5k

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[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]

Dear Uncle Ben ,

Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?

Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."

So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.

This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).

So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help

Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,

Y/N

P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.

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After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Y/N

Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.

P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).

Love,

Uncle Ben

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After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.

He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).

"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."

I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.

"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"

I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."

"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.

"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"

I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."

"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.

When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"

"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.

He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."

A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"

Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"

The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.

Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.

Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.

Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."

kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.

And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate

Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .

Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.

Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.

As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.

Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.

Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library

The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.

Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?

"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.

Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.

Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?

and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.

the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.

I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.

"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"

He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.

Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."

As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.

"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.

-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"

he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"

Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."

His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.

"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.

Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.

Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"

A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"

“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."

His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..

"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.

Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.

"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.

"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."

"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."

He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."

Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."

His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.

The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."

He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.

But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.

Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"

Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.

"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"

He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”

"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"

He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.

"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"

"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."

“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "

Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."

Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"

A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .

The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.

I saw him.

He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.

But then, our eyes met.

His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.

Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.

"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”

Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.

He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"

"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."

His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"

Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"

Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."

"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.

Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"

He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.

"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."

He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.

"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."

Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"

"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.

A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.

He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."

"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”

I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.

He backed away, eyes wide.

The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.

"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."

Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"

He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."

Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.

"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"

Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"

The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.

Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"

Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers

The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.

Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .

"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.

My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.

"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"

The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.

My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.

Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.

The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.

One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.

The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.

"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.

He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."

“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."

"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."

A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.

He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."

He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."

A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .

Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.

"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."

He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"

I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."

Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."

I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."

Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.

the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.

A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.

But then I saw him.

Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.

"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.

He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.

With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."

"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."

"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.

The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."

My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”

The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .

“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."

His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.

"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."

He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “

A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.

He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."

His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.

"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."

"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."

The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.

"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."

The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.

"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.

He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture

Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.

The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.

Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.

Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.

One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.

It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.

What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.

The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.

Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.

Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.

Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .

Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.

My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.

The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."

Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.

Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.

A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.

Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.

Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.

The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.

In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.

The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.

His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.

In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.

The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.

His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.

"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"

He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.

"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.

He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.

"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.

My heart hammered against my ribs,

"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.

Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.

"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.

Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."

Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “

"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."

A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.

"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."

Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.

"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."

Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…

Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.

Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."

The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?

Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"

Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."

"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."

Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.

Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.

I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.

The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.

A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.

The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.

Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.

Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.

With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.

Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"

He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.

"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers

His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."

The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.

"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"

His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"

My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"

Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"

I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."

A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “

"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."

"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."

My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.

"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."

His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"

"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"

Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"

Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.

“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms

his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee

"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .

"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.

"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."

My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .

"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.

He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.

"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."

As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.

"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."

"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.

Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.

"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."

My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.

"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.

I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.

"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."

"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."

My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said

his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."

"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."

his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.

Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.

He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.

He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.

But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"

"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?

"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.

His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.

"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."

He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"

before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again

"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.

"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.

His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .

"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.

"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.

"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"

Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.

"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "

"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.

The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.

"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."

With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.

His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.

"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"

His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."

A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."

His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.

"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."

Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.

A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.

"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"

He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?

"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.

The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.

"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.

A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.

The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.

This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.

Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple

My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.

"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .

Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.

A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .

“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.

“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.

"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.

“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .

A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.

My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.

" good girl , Come for me, love,"

A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.

"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."

His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.

"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.

His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.

"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.

He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.

My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.

"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.

 “Is that gonna fit?” 

 

 “I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.

He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.

“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."

A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .

As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.

It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.

“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.

As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.

"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.

"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.

I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.

“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“

"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .

"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.

I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .

Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.

"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.

"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.

Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.

He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"

I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.

"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

BONUS SCENE.

We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration

Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?

“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"

"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"

"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"

My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…

“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.

"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.

My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.

"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.

My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.

" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.

My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.

“you're holding hands! "

Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."

My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"

Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."

"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."

"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.

Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

Tag list :

@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff

#slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys #mattheo smut #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #smut #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire imagine #fluff imagines #mattheoriddle

[animasola86]

News travels fast in Hogwarts - Option 2

Notes: This is one of the options you have at the end of this oneshot.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader Genre: Fluff/Angst // Words: 1.1k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: You wake up from a weird dream (or do you?) and find yourself in the arms of this freckled boy.

WARNINGS: Angst? Implied infidelity? A tiny bit of spice, nothing to worry about.

You stirred, tossing and turning, moaning and groaning, your body on high alert. It was when two arms wrapped around your middle and pulled you against a warm body that you slowly relaxed, your thundering heart calming, your breaths easing until you sighed deeply.

“Are you okay?” a soft, low voice rang in your ear, and the sound of it made your eyes flutter open.

First you blinked in confusion, then you furrowed your brows before you followed the sudden urge to turn around and stare at whoever had asked you that. Your heart jumped back into terror mode when you noticed two brown eyes looking at you in the semi-darkness of the room, warm and deep and twinkling, and a playful smirk playing around a very inviting mouth.

“What's wrong, love?” Sebastian asked quietly, his arms tightening around you, his freckled face slightly concerned now as you kept staring at him.

“I... uh...” you stammered, your body stiffening in his hold. “B-bad dream, I suppose...” It had been a dream, right? Confusion washed over you as if you'd put your head in a cloud, rendering you completely speechless.

He raised a hand and caressed your cheek, smiling softly. “Well, you're awake now, it's alright,” he whispered, slowly scooting closer until his face was barely an inch away from yours. He felt so familiar, and you felt so warm and safe in his embrace, and yet it was all strange, as if something wasn't right. Something was off. Were you still dreaming?

Your hand almost moved on its own as it slid over his warm chest, up his throat, around his jaw, your fingertips gliding over his freckles as if they wanted to connect the dots, mapping his face in gentle motions. Your fingers dug into his messy hair, your thumb tracing the shape of his lips. He watched you patiently, unmoving, curious.

“Is this real?” you then breathed, slowly leaning in, your hot breath ghosting his chin.

His thick eyebrows furrowed slightly before one of them arched up in confusion. “Do you think this is a dream?”

“It feels like one,” you whispered, tilting your head, staring into his dark eyes, your lips almost brushing against his.

“I'm not sure if I should be flattered or concerned,” he replied with a smirk, his low voice vibrating through your very core.

You blinked slowly, your tongue darting out of your mouth to wet your lips, brushing against his in the process. He took the invitation and pressed his mouth to yours, his hands on your back pulling you even closer. You gasped into the kiss, but quickly indulged him and met his eager tongue, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself fall into his touch.

It felt like old times and new adventures all at once. So familiar, like a comforting cup of tea, a taste you were so used to, but then also like a box of Bertie Botts Beans, every twist of his tongue against yours like a new flavour you had never experienced before, luckily only the good ones. You gripped his hair tighter as you deepened the kiss, and he groaned quietly into your mouth.

The noise made your eyelids flutter, and when you looked at him, he was watching you too, his motions growing slower before he gave you a peck and leaned away slightly, breathing just a little bit rougher, as did you. Your fingers eased over his messy locks, while his hands rubbed soothing circles into your back.

You were still confused.

“What was that dream of yours about?” he asked softly while you settled your head back into the pillow.

Biting your lip, you stared into his eyes, quickly getting lost in their warmth. “Us,” you whispered then.

He raised an eyebrow. “And why was it bad?”

“Because we were... not like this... not together...” you stammered, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions and memories in your heart and mind.

A shadow crept over his freckled face. “Well, love, we're not,” he then said darkly.

“What?” you breathed in confusion, your lips tingling.

“We're not together,” he stated, his voice low, a hint of sadness clinging to his words.

“But... we're... here...” you breathed, frowning deeply, your hand pressing against his warm chest, your own heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you felt his thrumming against your palm. “Together in bed...”

A sigh escaped him. “Well spotted, but it's not like you think...”

You didn't know what to think anymore. None of this made any sense. “What are you saying?”

One of his hands cupped your cheek, his warmth seeping into your skin. “You're with somebody else.”

His words made you stiffen immediately. Your eyebrows furrowed so much you felt your head starting to hurt. Your mind was racing, head spinning, thoughts tumbling over each other, various emotions colliding violently. “What?”

He sighed loudly, his breath ghosting your trembling lips. “You changed your mind, love. Can't you remember?”

You stared at him, feeling hot and cold at the same time. Something vile crept up your throat. “It... wasn't a dream?” you managed to croak out, your voice breaking in disbelief.

His eyes wandered over your face, he neither confirmed nor denied it, he only grabbed your face and pulled it towards him, his nose nuzzling against yours.

“Play along,” he whispered, like an echo of whatever happened earlier, dream or not, and then his lips were on yours again, his kiss as desperate as you could remember, intense and hungry, so passionate you quickly felt light-headed as you forgot to breathe through it.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and the world blurred at the edges. All you felt was his warmth, his eager mouth and tongue, his arm pressing you against his hard body. His hand moved down your front, and you only noticed the bold move when his fingers pressed between your thighs. A surprised moan escaped you.

“Yes, love, be as vocal as you want, let them hear who you really belong to,” he breathed into your mouth.

You couldn't move, you couldn't do anything, and frankly, you didn't want to. You wanted him to kiss you breathless, touch you like he used to touch you, and you wanted to show everyone how lucky you were. The thought of holding hands in public brought the image of another face into your clouded mind, and a sudden cold washed over you as two dark eyes stared at you, creases deepened in disappointment.

Your confused whimper was swallowed by a captivating mouth before the world stopped spinning, and you fell into deafeningly quiet darkness.

End notes: Aaaand are you any wiser now? Or is this just another dream? A dream within a dream? Was it real all along? (I honestly could keep the loop going, and IT WILL ALWAYS BE TUESDAY! But I'll leave that up to you!)

Do you want to go back to the first option? Do you think she'll wake up in somebody else's arms again?

And if you read this in succession: were both correct? What was a dream and what not? Again, that is totally up to you!

Original post - Option 1

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow angst #angst #drama #reader insert #fem reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot

[uhohwhathaveidone]

Can I request Sebastian x m!Hufflepuff MC

Them spending their first date in Hogsmeade :>

HiHi! There was another request asking for a M!Hufflepuff mc with their first kiss with Sebastian and I smashed them together and this was the product!

First Date (S.S)

I've never been on a date but if I did it would be to an art museum, probably. I visited a whole bunch one time maybe 2-3 years ago, was very fun. And again, I know I said maybe yesterday that this would be late, I didn't mean to be this late! I hope you enjoy <3 Why do I keep the reader and Sebastian bantering, I will never know. Also, I wanted to tag this on AO3 with hand holding and? That was not an option, ya nasties.

      You smiled as you followed Sebastian down the path to Hogsmeade, your scarf blowing into your face as a cold breeze blew by. “Should we go out today? It’s a rather cold day out.” You said, speeding up to walk beside Sebastian. He shook his head as he smirked at you. “Chickening out already? We haven’t even walked into the village yet!” He laughed, making your cheeks heat up. “I am not chickening out! I just don’t want to get a cold while we’re out here.” You said, shaking your head as you wrapped your yellow and black scarf tighter around you. “Those are the words of someone trying to get out of a date with his favourite person, you know.” You sighed, giving up as you raised your hands in defense. “Fine, but if you get sick, I told you so. Hate to get sick on a date, though.” Sebastian chuckled in response, pointing to the sign that read Hogsmeade. “Just up ahead, last chance to back out.” Sebastian said, turning back as he raised his brows at you. You shook your head as you walked past him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him into the village. “Now you sound like you’re trying to get out of a date.”

      Sebastian led the way as he pointed to Honeydukes, smiling at you in a way to ask if you wanted to head in. You smiled back, nodding as you made your way to the entrance. You were hit with a mix of sweet scents as you walked through the door, the warm atmosphere greeting the two of you. “We should pick up some sweets, I hear that the Fizzing Whizbees are really good!” Sebastian stated, grabbing your hand, and pulling you to where the balls of sherbet were. “What are they, exactly?” You asked, peering into the container. Sebastian shrugged as he picked out a few, handing some change to the cashier. “Only one way to find out, hm?” He asked, holding out the treat for you to take. You smiled nervously as you took it from his hand, watching Sebastian pop the candy into his mouth before taking a bite yourself. You smiled in excitement as it began to pop in your mouth, a tangy orange taste mixing with the sherbet base as you chewed. Sebastian furrowed his brows in confusion as his eyes widened, not expecting the fizzling pop that now invaded his mouth. “Popping candy? That’s a new one.” He said, covering his mouth as he spoke to not drop any of the treat. You nodded, enjoying the sweet yet tangy delight as you watched Sebastian’s face change with each new pop.

      You pointed to another shelf of candy as you walked past Sebastian, picking up a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “Say’s here that you could get popcorn or…. earwax? How would you even?” You said, reading off the box as Sebastian walked over. “Are you afraid of some earwax?” You raised a brow at him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Definitely not. But could you handle…. Squid ink?” Sebastian frowned in disgust, grabbing the box from your hand as he read the flavours. “Squid ink? Who would ever want to risk that?” You shrugged, paying for the box and turning to Sebastian, motioning for him to open it. “I’m not eating these with you.” He said, handing you the box. You frowned as you bit the inside of your cheek. “Sounds like you’re afraid you’ll get all the gross flavours. But it’s fine, I’ll just eat these on my own.” You shrugged, picking out a bean and popping it into your mouth. Sebastian watched you in horror, taking the box from your hands and looking at the label. “You didn’t even check what that could have been! You could be eating grass right now, you know.” You shrugged, smiling as the taste of green apple started appearing as you bit the candy in half. “I’m already winning.” You said, pointing to the green bean on the back of the box. “Green Apple.” “You’re a crazy man, you know that right?” You shrugged, offering a piece to Sebastian. He sighed as he took it, eyeing it suspiciously. “Which one is this?” You looked at the box, smirking. “Blueberry.” “Go on.” “Or soap.” Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh as he popped the candy into his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepared for the worst. You watched him, smiling as he opened his eyes in confusion. “It doesn’t taste like either of those things. Are you sure you read it right?” You shrugged, looking at the box again. “What do you taste, then?” Sebastian frowned, taking in the taste as he tried to put a name to it. “Earthy? It doesn’t really have a taste, to be honest.” You snorted, covering your mouth as your shoulders shook. Sebastian frowned at you, snatching the box from your hand. “Dirt?! You didn’t say it would be dirt!” You continued to laugh as you shook your head. “I didn’t read that far, I figured those were the only two options!” Sebastian sighed, closing the box up and placing it into his bag. “I’m going to grab us some Sugar Quills for the road, please don’t try anymore strange candy, yeah?” You nodded, smirking as you looked at another shelf containing Chocolate Frogs.

      You chatted with Sebastian as you walked down the cobbled path, looking at shops as you passed by. “I’m feeling quite parched from all that candy, what about you, Sebastian?” You asked, nodding in the direction of The Three Broomsticks. Sebastian thought for a moment before nodding. “I could go for a Butterbeer, I’ll buy for us.” You shook your head as you walked over to the doors. “I’m buying, it was my idea.” You said, opening the door for Sebastian. He scoffed, shaking his head as he waved to Sirona. “The date was my idea, so naturally I feel like I should be the one buying for you.” You sighed as you walked over to a table in the corner of the tavern, smiling as Sirona made her way over to you. “Welcome back! What can I get you lads?” You went to open your mouth, only for Sebastian to put his hand on your shoulder as he smirked. “Two butterbeers, please. I’ll be paying for it too, so don’t ask him if he wants the bill.” You looked at Sirona, tight lipped as you sent her pleading looks. She smiled as she nodded, leaving to make the drinks for you. “You are impossible to deal with some times, you know that?” You asked, looking over at Sebastian. He shrugged, smirking at you. Sirona came back with the drinks as she sat them down, sending you a good luck wink before returning to the bar.

      “Look at that! Never in my life have I seen something more beautiful.” Sebastian sighed, taking one of the drinks as he smiled. You shook your head as you took a sip, smiling as you tasted the butterscotch. You glanced over to Sebastian as you set the drink down, coughing as he smiled at you, pointing at the foamy moustache he had received from the drink. “It suits you, though I doubt you’d be able to grow one as marvelous as that.” You joked, shaking your head as he frowned. “I would certainly be able to grow a moustache like this, and it’d be even better.” He scoffed, wiping the foam onto his sleeve as he looked over at you. You took another sip of your drink, feeling the soft foam at the top decorating your lip as you sat it down again. “You know, I think mine might be better.” You said, smiling. Sebastian shook his head as he crossed his arms. “We can’t both have a cool looking moustache. So, leave that to me, yeah?” You shook your head. “No way. I look way better with one.” Sebastian sighed, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I suppose you do.” He muttered, biting the inside of his cheek. You smirked, straightening up in triumph as the foam began to drip off your lip. You quickly wiped it off as you chuckled. “What else do you want to do? We have the whole day, you know.” Sebastian asked, resting his head in his hand. You brought a finger up to your chin, pretending to ponder his question. “You didn’t plan very far ahead, did you?” “To be fair, I didn’t think you’d actually agree to something like this.” “And yet I did.”

      Sebastian paid Sirona for the drinks as the two of you left the tavern, looking around for the next shop to visit. “How about Madam Puddifoot's? Might find some new tea blends we could try.” You offered, gesturing to the small tea shop. Sebastian nodded as the two of you walked over. “Our supply in the Undercroft is getting low, it would be best if we refilled it before Ominis got upset.” You smiled as you walked into the shop, the strong aroma of different blends of tea leaves mixing as they filled your senses. “Well, that wasn’t here the last time I visited.” Sebastian whispered, picking up a bag of tea leaves as he read the label. “What kind of tea is it?” You asked, looking over his shoulder. “Butterbeer. Apparently, it’s new.” You picked up the teacup with a sample of the leaves inside, sniffing it. “It certainly smells like butterbeer. Perhaps we could try it out?” You breathed, continuing to smell the leaves as vanilla and butterscotch warmed the air. Sebastian shrugged, keeping the bag in his hand as he looked through the other bags of tea. “What kind of tea would you want? I’m sure you have a cup or two in your dorm.” He said, peering at the different bags. You looked with him, biting your lip as you browsed the different flavours. “Elderflower tea is rather good; I could make some for us every now and then.” You said, picking up the bag labeled with a flower. Sebastian gently took the bag from your hand as he studied it, reading the ingredients. “Elderflower blossoms, good choice if I say so myself.” He said, sending you a smile as he handed the shopkeeper some coins. “Where to next then?”

      You gently pet the small Pygmy Puff as you softly cooed at it, its big eyes looking up at you. You called for Sebastian, gesturing for him to join you. “Look how fluffy it is! Most of it is just fur too, without it this little guy is probably the size of a small mouse.” You said, patting the fluff that surrounded the creature. Sebastian looked at it skeptically, slowly raising a hand to pat its soft fur. “Is it a Hufflepuff thing, liking these kinds of creatures?” He asked, eyes widening as you shifted the Pygmy Puff into his hands. “I wonder if I could keep him as a pet?” You asked yourself, walking over to the shopkeeper. Sebastian sighed as he looked down at the small puff of pink fur. “You’re almost as cute as he is, you know. Almost.” He said, poking the top of its head with a finger. It squeaked at him, as if it understood what he said, turning around in his hand and looking back at the cage it came from. “Oh, did I insult you? My apologies. You can go back if you wish.” You stood behind Sebastian, smiling softly as he talked to the Puff, gently placing it back into its cage. “What did you say to upset him?” You asked, causing Sebastian to jump. “You can’t do that! What if I had that thing in my hands still?” He gasped, frowning at you as you laughed. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Let’s go, it’ll get dark soon.” Sebastian looked back at the Pygmy Puff, furrowing his brows. “I thought you wanted to keep it?” He asked, following behind you. You nodded as you opened the door, slipping out with Sebastian. “I did, but the shopkeeper said that he was a bit stubborn. Told me to come back another day and have a look.” Sebastian scoffed as he shook his head. “Stubborn is right.”

      You continued to walk around the village, checking out a few more shops that caught your eye. Sebastian smirked as he pointed to the Shrieking Shack, watching as you shook your head. “Absolutely not, they say it’s actually haunted!” You said, stopping at the trail that led up to it. Sebastian scoffed as he walked ahead a bit, turning around as he raised a brow. “Scared of some ghosts? One of our professors is a ghost, you know. You can’t be that scared.” He said, crossing his arms. You shook your head as you frowned. “I’m not scared of ghosts, but it isn’t even time for scary stuff yet. You’re the one that gets scared easily anyway, how do I know you’re not using that as a ploy to grab onto me?” Sebastian felt heat rush to his cheeks as he dramatically placed a hand to his chest. “Me? A ploy? If anything, you’d be the one holding onto me.” You scoffed, walking up to him with a brave face. “If you’re so sure, then let’s find out, yeah?” “After you then.”

      You stayed close to Sebastian as you sneaked into the building, going through a door in the back. Cobwebs littered the corners of the walls, and you felt the urge to sneeze as you kicked up some dust. “So much for being scary, seems like it’s just an abandoned workshop or something similar.” Sebastian sighed, looking around. You shook your head as you followed him, the hair at the back of your neck stiff as you turned the corner. “Perhaps the ghosts are taking a break?” You said, shrugging as you stood next to Sebastian. He sighed, taking a final look around the room before turning around. “I guess we will never know if you would grab me if you were scared. A shame really.” You lightly swatted his shoulder, puffing your cheeks. “I knew it was just a ploy! You were never good at hiding your plans, Sebastian.” You said, turning to see Sebastian in the doorway, frozen. “Sebastian? Come on, I can’t move it you’re in the way.” You sighed, grabbing his shoulder. “Shut up.” “What?” “Look.” Sebastian pointed to a corner of the hall, a rocking chair by the window occupied it. “It’s a chair, Sebastian. You’re not telling me you’re afraid of a lone chair.” He covered your mouth with his hand as he kept pointing, your eyes widening as it rocked slightly. You grabbed Sebastian’s hand from your mouth as you got closer to him, whispering. “Maybe it’s just a draft? It’s pretty common in old houses.” He shook his head, still watching the chair as it slowly rocked. You sighed as you watched it with him, glancing over at him every so often in confusion. “Okay, maybe it is just a draft. Let’s get going, then.” He breathed, releasing the breath he had been holding. You nodded, taking the lead as you walked toward the door. You reached for the handle, about to turn it when a crash sounded behind you. Your eyes widened as you quickly turned, met with Sebastian who grabbed onto you, pulling you with him as he opened the door and ran outside.

      You stood outside the shack with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Sebastian stood next to you, shaking his head. “What was that? That wasn’t a draft back there!” You shook your head, smiling as you looked over at him. “What are you smiling about?” He asked, his cheeks red as he tried to steady his heart. “You grabbed me. Looks like you were the scared one.” You breathed, your shoulders shaking as you laughed. “I was trying to get us out, thank you very much. If anything, you squeezed my hand until just a moment ago, I can already feel it bruise.” You shook your head as you straightened up, walking over to Sebastian with a smile. “Sure. Come on, I’m starving.” “You’re starving after all that?” “Wasn’t scary. If anything, it was funny to see you so scared.” “Shut up.”

      The two of you sat at a table in the Hog’s Head, talking as you ate. “You should have seen your face; it was like Professor Sharp caught you sleeping in his class. Pure horror.” Sebastian scoffed, chewing his food. “Laugh it up, next time you’ll be the one running away with your tail between your legs.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink. “I look forward to the day that happens.” You continued to eat as the warm air kept you cozy and away from the dropping temperatures outside, Sebastian’s cheeks were slightly pink as the two of you talked. “Would you want to head back to the Undercroft after this? I’m not sure how late it is, but if we make it back in time we could still hang out before we have to be back in our common rooms.” He asked, glancing over at you as you nodded. “I would like that, but I’m not sure we will have time for it, we’re already pushing curfew as we speak.” Sebastian sighed as he nodded in agreement, looking down at his empty plate. “I suppose you’re right. We should head back then.” You nodded, standing up and walking over to one of the servers, smiling at Sebastian as you paid for dinner. He scrunched his nose as he watched you, glaring at you playfully when you walked back. “Shall we head off, then?” You asked, offering your hand. Sebastian flushed a bit as he nodded, taking your hand as the two of you walked out of the pub. You shivered as the cold air bit your nose, causing you to shuffle closer to Sebastian as you walked.

      “You wouldn’t be so cold if you had your scarf on properly, you know.” Sebastian stated, stopping in the middle of the trail back to Hogwarts as he turned to you. You huffed in response, your face heating up as Sebastian unwrapped your scarf, sighing to himself as he wrapped it around you properly. You shivered once again as you rubbed your hands together, the cold breeze that had blown through making both of your noses red. “I’d offer my scarf to you as well, but then you’d be blind. Although,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked over at you. He took your scarf once again, causing you to frown. “If you keep taking my scarf, I’ll be a popsicle before we even make it to the castle.” You huffed, crossing your arms. Sebastian shook his head as he took his own scarf off, wrapping the Slytherin styled fabric around you instead. “Mine’s warmer, trust me.” He said, taking your scarf and wrapping it around his own neck before taking your hand again. You blushed as you pushed the scarf up with your shoulders, covering your cold nose with the fabric. Somehow, it did feel warmer. Perhaps the Slytherin’s got specially made scarves for them, or maybe it was because it came from Sebastian, but you didn’t question it. You smiled as you breathed in the lingering scent that Sebastian had, hints of cedar and smoke soaked into the warm fabric.

      You sneaked around the halls as you made your way back to the Hufflepuff common room, Sebastian walking next to you. “I don’t see any Prefects around, perhaps curfew hasn’t started yet.” He said, pulling you behind him as you walked up a flight of stairs. “No one really sneaks around the Hufflepuff common room either, so I doubt they need to stick around for long.” You whispered, pointing down a hall that led to your house. Sebastian sighed as he slowed down, taking his time as he walked with you towards the barrels that led to the cozy interior of the common room. “You’re stalling.” You smirked, glancing over at Sebastian. His freckled cheeks turned a light pink as he shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m walking at a normal pace, thank you very much.” You chuckled as you kept hold of his hand, basking in the dim lights of the hall and the warmth in your face. You reached the entrance shortly after, and you stood there awkwardly as you said good night to Sebastian. “This was fun, right?” He asked, avoiding your gaze as he looked around at the walls. You nodded, grabbing his shoulder. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be. I wouldn’t want to be with any other Slytherin.” Sebastian glared at you for a moment, raising a brow. “Just a Slytherin?” You chuckled as you shook your head. “Not just a Slytherin, of course. I had a lot of fun, though. Perhaps we should plan for another one soon?” Sebastian’s cheeks grew darker at the thought, stuttering out a response. “I- yeah! I mean, yeah. Sure. Whenever you want?” You nodded, blushing as you moved closer to Sebastian, placing your lips onto his in a small kiss.

      Sebastian stiffened up at first, not expecting the sudden contact, but he quickly melted into the kiss, placing a hand to your cheek. His soft, perhaps a little chapped, lips tasted like a mix of butterbeer and dinner, both of which you had in the past hour, and you smiled. You continued the kiss for a few moments longer, pulling away for air as the two of you smiled. “You can keep the scarf; it looks good on you.” Sebastian breathed, adjusting the scarf around your neck. You nodded, poking your scarf that decorated his neck. “You can keep that one too, it’s a nice pop of colour compared to the dark wardrobe you usually wear.” He chuckled, placing another kiss to your lips before waving to you as he walked away.

#sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hufflepuff reader #harry potter imagine #hogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy imagine #hand holding #soft Sebastian #first kiss #first date too #male reader

[intotheseas]

Hello 👋. I hope you take requests. I have just a little tiny one. I would give my arm and leg to see someone being brave enough to call us a MUDBLOOD in a way Ominis and/or Sebastian could hear. Ahhhh, the angst and drama would be perfect for a crippling insomniac reader (like myslef) Thank you so much in advance. Love your work btw

One, I'm honoured you'd say that, so thank you! Two, absolutely! Writing violence is kinda foreign to me, so this is short and I'm sorry if it's awful haha. Also, I hope you don't mind but I took this as an opportunity to play around with present tense a little. Here's what I came up with. Hope you like it! :)

Tainted - 1,014 words - contains graphic violence, read below the break or here on AO3.

The library’s floor-length windows cast the last of the sun’s light across Sylvia’s table. The dusty smell of books and sound of pages turning surrounds her, lulling her into a stupor. She’s yawning, diligently scratching the last of her essay onto parchment. Plans for a night spent by the fire with her friends Ominis and Sebastian form in her mind when a malicious voice speaks behind her.

“Can’t believe they let that filthy Mudblood into Slytherin. It’s like this school doesn’t stand for anything anymore. What’s the point of being proud of your house when they’re allowing any old trash in now?” The voice is cruel, mocking. Clearly, he wants her to hear. 

The bitter words cut at Sylvia like a blunted knife. Mudblood? Yet another thing to learn about this strange new world. Compared to the orphanage she spent her life in, Hogwarts is another beast entirely. Coming in as a fifth year has been intimidating enough, but the politics and prejudices of wizardkind mystify her. She assumes she’s supposed to feel insulted, but it’s difficult when she doesn’t even know what the word means.

Sylvia turns around to see two older Slytherin boys leering at her and sniggering. Probably seventh years, she guesses. She meets their eyes, an eyebrow raised. “Sorry, Mudblood? Care to explain?” 

They stop laughing and glare. “We don’t speak to subhumans,” one retorts. Venom drips from his voice, and Sylvia’s a little surprised at the overt malice in his eyes. She hasn’t spoken to them once, yet they clearly hate her. “Do all of wizardkind a favour and go back to the muggles. Your kind isn’t wanted here,” the other boy says. They rise from their seats, passing her in a huff, the latter knocking his bag roughly against her shoulder.  

She stares after them, bemused. Insults are nothing new to her; she’s more than used to hearing things like “worthless”, “peasant”, and “pity case” from muggles. They stopped hurting a long time ago. Growing up in an orphanage quickly taught her to fend for herself and stay out of petty arguments. Sylvia shrugs, returning to the last words of her essay. 

Later, she relaxes in front of the fire with Sebastian and Ominis. The warmth is comforting as they joke and share a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. Sylvia has a soft spot for Ominis and picks the nastiest beans out of his pile, furtively puts them in Sebastian’s for a laugh. His expressions when he tastes the earwax flavour are all the reward she needs. It’s a comfortable dynamic the three have built in the months since Sylvia came to Hogwarts, marked by a love language of banter and trust. 

She’s about to open another box when a hand grips the back of the sofa, knocking against her shoulder. “Dirty fucking Mudblood, already getting cosy with Slytherin boys, huh? Bet you’re as easy as your blood is filthy.” She turns back, meeting the eye of the older boy who taunted her in the library. She’s about to tell him she doesn’t know what a Mudblood is, but Ominis is already on his feet and facing the boy, his wand out. His face contorts into a livid scowl.

“Pardon? Care to elaborate, Williams? Or perhaps you’d prefer to fuck off.” His voice is icy. 

Williams sneers. “No surprise that the Gaunt blood traitor would defend the Mudblood. Is it just the two of you, or do you share her with Sallow?” 

Sebastian barks out a laugh. His arms are crossed, a defiant look on his face. “Why? Are you interested in joining?” 

Sylvia leans over to Sebastian, whispers. “What on earth is a Mudblood, anyway? He called me that earlier in the library, too.” He looks back at her, the humour gone from his eyes. 

“It’s pretty much one of the worst things you can call someone,” he mutters back. “Means someone who has magic but was born to muggles. It’s supposed to imply their blood is dirty.” 

Sylvia laughs. “Wait, that’s supposed to be hurtful?” She turns around again, tilts her head up proudly and meets Williams’ eye. “Why should I feel insulted by something I have no control over? If you wanted an excuse to talk to me, you could have just said hi, you know.” 

Williams’ jaw clenches, his eyes narrowed. “Know. Your. Place. Mudblood,” he spits. His fists shake at his side for a moment, and then he slaps her, hard. The crack of his open palm against Sylvia’s face stuns her for a moment, and when she gathers her wits, both Ominis and Sebastian are already on top of him. 

Ominis holds the boy down by his robes while Sebastian lands blows on Williams’ face. “Call our friend a fucking Mudblood, will you? How’s this feel?” William’s head smacks against the stone floor with a loud crack as Sebastian lands one last punch. Blood trickles from his mouth, bruises already blooming across his cheek.

Sebastian stands up and spits on him, his face a mask of utter disdain. “It’s filth like you that taints the name of Slytherin, not muggle-borns. Fucking disgusting.” He looks at the crowd gathering to see the spectacle. “Anyone else want to call anyone a Mudblood?” 

No one speaks.  

He kicks Williams’ side and returns to the couch, grabbing the box of sweets from Sylvia. Ominis joins them. “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he murmurs. “Utter pettiness. If that happens again, come to us. We’ll take care of it.” 

Behind them, Williams crawls toward the exit to the common room. Sebastian turns his head casually. “By the way, Williams, you tell anyone about this and they’ll hear all about what you’ve been calling Sylvia!” he sings. “Hope you have Wiggenweld handy!”

“You guys really didn’t need to do that, but…thanks,” Sylvia says. She feels warmth spreading in her chest. It’s a little foreign to her, but not unwelcome. Maybe it isn’t so bad to depend on others, she thinks. She picks out the grossest beans from Sebastian’s pile and tosses them into the fire.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy imagines #hogwarts legacy requests

[starstruckwillows]

jess! i have a request!

okay, so maybe this one is like where y/n is a shy hufflepuff and doesn't talk too much to people who aren't her like... three friends. so when she gets paired up with james potter in potions and they get to talking and get to know each other and become friends. and james starts to realize with the help of siri that he has a crush. a huge crush. and everytime y/n smiles at him he feels as if he's about to fall over. and she smiles at him like all the time. passing in the hallway, great hall, hogsmead. like all the time. and eventually he is pushed into confessing his feelings builds up the courage to confess his feelings

if you don't feel it, no preasure!

♡ three confessions - j.p ♡

el i love your brain omg

starstruckwillows 🂱

pairing; james potter x reader

category; fluff

summary; just james potter being weak in the knees for the girl he was partnered with in potions

warnings/content; snape, one swear

other; fem!reader, hufflepuff!reader, shy-ish!reader

the only thing that ever, ever made you competitive was potions class.

desire to overcome all your competition rarely cropped up in your nature, but severus snape pulled that fight from you.

his smug face when he beat you to an answer, his gritty laugh when his friends teased muggleborns, his simpering to slughorn when he insisted tipping over your cauldron was an accident.

so absolutely nothing could've made you happier than the professor announcing a group project, in which you would not be paired with who you sat next to now.

"we want to get to know some new people!" slughorn grinned.

getting to know new people was not your fortè, but getting away from snape was too good to worry.

you ended up seated next to james potter, one of the loudest, most confident student you knew of. while the prospect of working with someone so sociable made you tug at your sleeves selfconsciously, working with snape's worst enemy seemed fitting.

slipping into your newly assigned seat, you began reading over the project, feeling james' eyes on you.

eventually, he prompted, "hi. i'm james."

and, awkward at the angle, stuck out his hand for you to shake. you smiled and took the offer, as you introduced yourself.

he nodded enthusiastically with a smirk, "alright, cool! i'll confess it to you now, potions is not something i'm exactly brilliant at."

from a slimy git who sabotaged your work, to the sort of person in a group who left it all up to you. still an alright trade, you thought.

"yeah, no worries. i'll get the research done over the weekend, and you can copy it out on the report. just for the handwriting, y'know."

the messy-haired gryffindor seemed taken aback, nudging his glasses up his face, "no, no, i'll do my bit. i jus' meant my terminology is a bit rusty."

you felt bad for assuming, apologizing quickly, but he brushed it off, and you arranged to meet at the library.

due to being chased out by pince twenty minutes in, her adamant shushing not affecting james in the slightest, you then arranged to meet at the three broomsticks.

but all james' friends showed up, so he got distracted with talking to them, eager to link you into their conversations too, so you once again arranged to meet, this time just at a bench near the main hogsmeade village.

and how was it his fault the travelling carnival showed up, and his pocket money had just arrived, and he insisted the two of you play at least a few rounds of accio-a-duck. so you made, again, new plans to meet in the hufflepuff common room.

when he was done being totally fascinated by all the plants, making the acquaintance of your three friends, and marvelling at the sheer amount of blankets, you both ended up totally abandoning the project to see who could eat a whole pack of bertie botts every flavoured beans the fastest.

"if i didn't know better, i'd say you were messing up the work to keep spending time with me." you teased, feeling significantly braver than you had since you were three.

james chuckled, "and what if i was?"

you rolled your eyes with a laugh, shoving his shoulder before pulling out the parchment and books to actually start.

"new confession, as lovely as you are i think it was this work making me procrastinate. i've never seen something so dull." he groaned, only two minutes in.

unfortunately, you finished it there, and your impromptu hangouts came to an end.

but a new friendship was somewhat nurtured by then, and you found yourself smiling to him when you passed him, to the intense amusement of your friends.

james would always wave back with vigor, ruffling his hair even more.

and one day, when you left the great hall, your soft smile caught him so off guard that it took him a full five seconds to wave.

"give the guy a break, you're gonna melt him." one of your friends smirked, poking you in the ribs.

"huh?" you turned with a frown, entirely baffled.

"he looks like honey on a hot day everytime you deign to glance his way."

you scoff, ignoring the heat that rose to your cheeks, "you're being silly."

your friend said nothing in reply, just a short laugh before skipping off. you were confused at being left behind, before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

turning with a slightly frightened jump, you met james' eyes.

damnit, they do look like honey.

a shock of fluster rushing back into you made your eyes drop to the ground.

"hey, did you maybe want to go for a walk?"

the uncharacteristic tone of anxiety caused you to remeet his stare. eager to banish the nerves from his face, you nodded, doing your best to supress the smile you wanted to let loose when he interlinked your fingers with his.

a sharp whistle made you both turn, sirius using a disgruntled remus' shoulder to prop himself higher as he yelled, "prongs, don't forget what i said! you're-"

"a stag not a pussy, yeah i know." he grumbled, and though there was no way sirius could've heard, he seemed appeased, and james led you away quickly.

though you didn't understand what was going on, the blush spreading across james' cheeks made your stomach flutter.

when the two of you reached the grounds, walking in comfortable silence as james swung your arms in the closing distance between you. if it wasn't quiet, you would've giggled at his antics.

he stopped, reaching the edge of the black lake where you both sat, shoulders touching. even though you didn't meet his eye, you knew he was staring straight ahead when he started talking.

"so, er... i wanted to tell you something. and i didn't want there to be loads of pressure, so i thought i'd tell you here, where it's a bit more quiet."

you squeezed his hand reassuringly, silently urging him to go on.

"i confessed to you that i wasn't good at potions, which was true. then i confessed that i thought the potions essay might kill me, and that was definitely true, but it wasn't really what i wanted to say."

with a deep breath, he stumbled quickly through his next sentence, "i wanted to confess that i really, really like you. and even though we've sort of accidentally been on a date or two, i want our next one to be official. that is, if you'd also like that."

the joy spread across your face faster than you thought it would, willing yourself not to whisper as you replied, "i'd really like that."

and that was the three confessions of james potter, a story he retold a little too proudly as you showed off the ring, years on.

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly

#starstruckwillows #fluff #marauders #marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x hufflepuff #james potter x shy!reader #hufflepuff #hufflepuff!reader

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

The problems I have with HP's world building and the Wizarding World as a whole can be summed up perfectly with Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. Sounds like a appropriately whimsical treat for a secret magical society. But, they beans flavoured like bodily fluids. We know there's ear wax and vomit flavoured beans, but I bet there are... other flavours.

And the question is, why? Why do that? Why sell something to children where there's a chance they might end up eating a bean that tastes and smells exactly like human shit.

Like, obviously, Rowling wrote it as a funny bit in a children's book that I doubt she expected people to dissect and nitpick over twenty years after she wrote it. But, in-universe, it shows that wizards just lack basic common sense. it's a wonder they made it to the 21st century without going extinct.

As weird as it sounds, I actually find the wizarding world fascinating in that it makes an eerie amount of sense: it's just not what JKR nor anyone else thinks it is/what it's supposed to be.

There's a larger post to be made but to me the wizarding world reeks of an extremely isolated and inbred society, complacent in their use of a technology they no longer understand and slowly forgetting aspects of that technology including the underlying fundamentals, neighbors to very different societies they feel threatened by for all they won't admit as much, and a society that has roots in western traditions but missed out on much of the Enlightenment/Post Enlightenment British history.

So, we see a world that's like Britain but... not...

The professors are there to teach, not go provide emotional guidance or emotional intervention of any kind with the students (read anti-bullying measures). There doesn't seem to be a child welfare or any kind of welfare system in place (orphans get a stipend to attend Hogwarts, but we see no mention of a wizarding orphanage/foster care system or money allotted to those like Ron Weasley who are poor but not Muggleborn). There are two historians ever mentioned and from what we see of Hogwarts a History it is not a modern western historical approach that's covered there. Everyone's extremely closely related and there are no actual positions beyond those a) made for yourself through entrepreneurship b) the ever bloated Ministry. They have no understanding of Muggles at all and those who claim to or wish to tend to be... grossly offensive is the only word I can think of.

It's a great satirical world of a decaying society and, most important, not quite one we'd be familiar with.

But this has nothing to do with your actual question (well, it does, but it's tangential).

To get back to the damned beans, from what we see, the wizarding world loves practical jokes and slapstick humor. Given they're wizards, serious injuries seem relatively easy to repair. If you start vomiting slugs all day, there's a potion for that. If you lose your bones, there's a potion for that. Blow off your hands, there's probably a potion for that.

What that means is that physical injuries in the wizarding world tend not to really matter. Unless you're using dark curses (see Bill's torn up face in HBP), you can probably get whatever it is fixed quickly. Which means that wizards find slapstick style practical jokes very funny.

Which gets us back to the candy.

The beans aren't alone, there are also the acid pops that actually burn through your tongue, blood pops that taste like blood, chocolate frogs which will jump away from you, ice mice that do... something I forget, but point being that we see wizards get very excited about the prospect of not only magic in their candies but some element of danger/just awfulness with it.

That's the exciting gamble of the beans. Sure, you might end up with a nice flavor, you might, but then you could end up with vomit or diarrhea flavored. When the latter happens, you can make a big show to your friends, "OH NO, I GOT THE VOMIT BEAN! OH HELLS, I GOT THE VOMIT BEAN! THIS IS THE WORST! I GOT THE VOMIT BEAN!" and everyone laughs at and with you over your terrible rotten luck over getting the vomit bean while Jimmy over there got strawberry.

It's kind of like a demented version of playing one of the first few editions of Mario Party: someone's going to be fucked over, that's just how the game goes, the delightful enjoyment of it is seeing who the loser is and lording it over them when you steal all their stars they eat the vomit bean.

Basically, you're kind of right about Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean. They exist because it's funny, I just think the wizards find it funny too.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #the wizarding world #anti the wizarding world #meta #headcanon #opinion

[1-800-papaya]

Fur, Claws and ButterBeer

Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!OC! Estelle Scamander Warnings: None

Estelle sighed as she sunk into the plush red bench seat. The year had been dull, with no suitable replacement for the Care of Magical Creatures professor; the class had been cancelled. Her grey tabby cat, Nimbus, rested his head on her lap and nudged her hand, seeking pats. Staring at the rolling hills in the distance, Estelle wondered if at least one of her brothers remembered what today was. She reflected on her past year at Hogwarts. With one less class on her schedule, Estelle had more time to explore and focus on other subjects. This year's yule ball hadn’t been as exciting as Estelle ever remembered; her eyes drifted towards the trunk with her initials hoisted above the opposite bunch. The soft yellow knee-length gown had looked lovely on her - well, in her opinion, it did. The dress had not ended the night pretty; Missy Mcgoran had thrown Mulled wine at her, and now an ugly red stain marred most of the dress.

Estelle was broken from her thoughts when the door to the compartment roughly slid open, Her closest friends spilling into the compartment. Dean and Tyler were laughing about some stupid joke or action involving a second-year, falling unceremoniously onto the opposing bench. Mattheo followed, his signature smirk on his face as he sat beside her; Mattheo ran his hand through Nimbus’s fur.

“It’s a pity you and Marcy couldn’t get that stain out; it truly was a lovely dress on you”, spoke the dark-haired Slytherin. His eyes followed Estelle’s and her focus on the trunk. “How would you know you were too busy swapping spit with Lacy Fargraves?” Came Tyler's teasing tone; he and Dean had stopped laughing long enough to listen to their friend's conversation. Mattheo looked cautiously at the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, whom he could tell wanted him to spill the secret he’d held for the last four years. “I wasn’t swapping spit; I was trying to get more butterbeer for miss sweet tooth over here”, Mattheo defended himself before poking his thumb at the girl. Estelle merely shook her head and moved Nimbus off her lap to greet the trolley witch. “Four chocolate frogs and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, please.” “5 sickles deary”

Estelle shoved the box of Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans into the open arms of Dean and Tyler before sitting back down. The rest of the train ride back to London seemed to flash by outside the widow in a blur. Before she realised it, the Hogwarts Express was pulling into King’s Cross. The group of friends slowly made their way off the train, and soon enough, they were bidding each other goodbye before running off to greet their families. Mattheo was the last to bid Estelle goodbye, his eyes lingering on his friend, who seemed to have still a slither of hope in her hazel eyes.

“Hey, you’ll write over the summer, yeah?” He nudged her shoulder, shaking the poor girl out of her thoughts.

“Sure, I'll try, Mar” She spoke before sighing heavily and casting a quick spell to shrink her belongings to a small enough size to stuff them into an extended pouch. “I’ll see you in September.” Estelle waved goodbye after picking up Nimbus’s cat carrier.

Mattheo watched as Estelle disappeared through the platform portal, Her long brown hair swaying slightly behind her.

#hogwarts oc #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander #theseus scamander #harry potter

[thetorturedpoetsintern]

You remember the collective headcanon of the snapedom (thank you for it @smilingformoney) that Severus smells like cinnamon?

Well, read what's written as a side note near the description of cinnamon as a potion ingredient.

Like I was just doing a bit of research about measurement units used in his class to be able to make a converter app and 💥BOOM💥.

Now we all know why he smells like that: it's actually a common potion ingredient and it also happens to be his favourite flavour of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

Like imagine him finding a way of separating the cinnamon ones from the rest and eat those nervously during breaks (because sugar gives him relief and those remind him of easier days).

*fragment from the pdf of the advanced potion making book i never knew existed before my little research

*edit: found out thanks to @halfbloodprince137 that this book is made by AlarmEighteen (click the link to go to their Instagram profile). Thanks for pointing that out! 🤍

#severus snape #snapedom #pro snape

[gellertalbus]

Albus: alright but think about this. If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same

Gellert *mouth full of bertie bott's every flavour beans*: kill two

#grindeldore incorrect quotes #grindeldore #i can see Jamie with a mouthful of beans cristal clear #gellert grindelwald #albus dumbledore #ggad #hp #albus x gellert #dumbledore x grindelwald

[jfleamont]

For the Beatles prompts, if you feel inspired by it: She's got a ticket to ride, and she don't care ✌🏼😊

Hello and thank you! This one seems a bit tricky so apologies in advance if it sucks lol

The last few days of term are always spent like this, leisurely lying in the sun in front of the lake without a care in the world.

That's how it used to be, at least.

The row with Lily - which, coincidentally, happened in the same exact spot where he's sitting now - is still fresh in his mind, and he can't stop thinking about it.

For the first time in his life, he wishes he hadn't provoked Snape, and he says as much to Sirius, who's eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans with Peter.

“What? I thought you'd be happy.”

James turns abruptly in his direction. “What the fuck should I be happy about?”

Sirius pops a green bean in his mouth; he doesn't react, so it must be apple. “She stopped talking to Snivellus, haven't you noticed? She finally sees the dickhead for who he is. Honestly, she should thank you, you did her a favour.”

James groans. “Yeah right, I'll make sure to tell her that.”

Sirius looks over James' head and smirks. “Looks like you won't have to wait for long to do that.”

He can't help it: he turns his head, and sees her walking towards the lake along with her friends. Her pale legs are exposed, and his gaze lingers there.

They wave in their direction - Lily simply smiles at Remus, then resumes her conversation with Marlene - and sit a few feet away, far enough not to be eavesdropped.

“Mac, want any beans? Playing with Peter here is no fun, he spits them all out,” Sirius shouts.

Mary grimaces, looking at Sirius as if he's asked her to jump off the Astronomy Tower. “I'm not eating any rotten egg flavoured beans again after you tricked me last time. You're disgusting, Black.”

Annoyed, he throws a bean at her. “And you're so stuck up that you can't take a joke. Do me a favour, yeah? Relax, get laid, go on holiday... Take your pick.”

“Merlin, who hurt you? Sounds like you need that more than me,” she replies, thrown off by Sirius' sudden venom. “And for the record, I am going on holiday. With Lily.”

James, who has followed their exchange, looks at Lily once again, only to find her already staring at him.

“Yeah?”

“We're going to France to visit Mary's cousin,” Lily replies evenly, still looking at him.

Her expression is indecipherable, but the fact that she isn't avoiding him gives James some hope.

“I suppose owl post will take longer to get there, then?” James inquires hesitantly. He doesn't want to anger her, but he figures this is a rather safe question to ask.

The thin line of her lips now makes him think he might be wrong.

“Maybe I'm leaving specifically because I'm trying to avoid being bothered, has that though crossed your mind or is that big head of yours still empty as ever?” she snaps.

James puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn't—”

“You've never owled me in five years, why start now?” she speaks over him, suddenly irritated.

He doesn't know what to say.

Lily doesn't wait for an answer: she gets up and storms towards the water, probably to cool down a bit.

“Give up, Prongs. She's got a ticket to ride and she don't care,” Sirius whispers, and pops another bean in his mouth.

James sighs. “Fucking great.”

#beatles prompt game #jily #jple #jfleamont rambles #harry potter #james potter #lily evans #asks #beatles drabbles

[princessma1foy]

Hermione stared out the window, clutching her knees to her chest as she watched the English countryside fly by.

What if it was all a mistake? What if she wasn’t magic enough after all? She’d be laughed out of class her very first day, her spells would fail despite her careful studying…

She sighed, the sound echoing throughout the empty compartment. Hermione had been careful to leave space for another person to sit next to her and across from her, but everyone had walked past, friendships already formed.

What if she couldn’t make friends? Was she too late? Everyone else seemed to know each other, what if Hermione was too late?

A knock on the door drew her out of her worries. Hermione turned in surprise as a small, blond haired boy opened the compartment door.

“Is this compartment full?”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Not at all!” She patted the bench across from her eagerly.

The boy slid down onto the seat. “Thanks,” he said with a small smile. “What’s your name?”

“Hermione Granger,” she said excitedly. “And yours?”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” he said. He paused thoughtfully. “I don’t know any Grangers. Are your parents Muggles, then?” He looked wary.

Hermione hesitated. Draco was the first person her age who’d talked to her since she’d been thrown into this world. Would it really be a big deal to tell a little white lie in order to fit in and not scare him away?

“No, they’re not Muggles. We’re from… France. That’s why you probably don’t know them,” she explained.

Draco’s brows furrowed thoughtfully. “Oh. That makes sense, then. So what house are you hoping for? I know I’ll be in Slytherin, of course. My whole family has been,” he said proudly.

Hermione’s smile returned. “That’s great! I read that Slytherin gets a bad rap sometimes, but Merlin himself was in Slytherin, so they can’t be all bad.” She grinned. “You’ll be one of the best ones, I’m sure of it.”

Draco’s cheeks tinged pink.

Hermione continued. “I’ve heard Gryffindor is known for their bravery and determination, so I think I’d like to be there. Or Ravenclaw - I love reading and studying,” she added.

Draco’s eyes lit up. “If I wasn’t Slytherin, I’d want Ravenclaw too! Have you learned any spells?” He asked curiously.

The rest of the train ride was spent excitedly discussing the spells they’d learn together, Hermione listening in wonder as Draco described the castle, and laughing delightedly as they shared a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.

And when Hermione was sorted into Ravenclaw, Draco clapped so hard his hands hurt, eyes shining with joy as his new friend joined him at the House table.

#dramione fandom #dramione ff #dramione lover for life #dramione fic #dramione fanfic #dramione fluff #dramione microfic #dramione #a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff #god they’re going to suffer so much later #dhr drabble

[nitewrighter]

While we're on the subject of Harry Potter fuckery, there's a memory that recently popped up for me.

So like... in 2001 the first Harry Potter movie was coming out, and like, even before the movie was in production there was actually a lot of Harry Potter merchandise--a lot more than pretty much any other kid's fiction you might find-- but the movie allowed the merch market to really explode with all of these promotional materials. Among them was Jelly Belly releasing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. And like, you know anyone who read the book or saw the movies can tell you there was this running gag about "They mean every flavor! Some flavors are earwax or vomit or boogers!" And like, in the book, those flavors were supposed to be very rare and you had to be incredibly unlucky to get one--this was not the approach Jelly Belly took. Jelly Belly made a point of including earwax, vomit, grass, skunk spray, and booger flavors among the butterscotch and strawberry and green apple. Like any Jelly Belly box, they had the little flavor guide for the different beans, so you would actually know full well when you were biting into a nasty one. So being kids, and being as obsessed with Harry Potter as a 90's kid might be in 2001, we got our hands on a box.

So like, normally when you eat a jelly bean that's a flavor you don't like, you just go "Ugh, buttered popcorn" or "ugh, black licorice" and move on. This was not the case with Bertie Botts. After eliminating all of the reasonable flavors the consumption of the candy soon turned to a morbid ritual where we would dare each other to eat the nasty flavors. Grass wasn't so bad, but vomit and earwax would literally have you running to the bathroom to spit them out into the toilet.

I just remember my dad looking on with disturbance edging into mild horror as my brothers and cousins and I dared each other to eat the terrible beans and would promptly sprint to the bathroom to spit them out in the toilet and desperately try to wash the flavors from our mouths from the sink faucet. Despite being a teacher, and very passionate about kids reading, my dad never got into the Harry Potter craze ("He doesn't do anything, he just reacts to things happening to him" my dad would always say) and like, it got to the point where he said, "Why would they even put those flavors in there?"

And we were like "Dad, it's Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."

And he's like, "Okay, but don't have to eat them if they're that bad."

And we were like "Ugh, Dad, you don't get it, it's Bertie Bott's Every Flavour beans and we're wizards."

I wrote recently on re-watching The Chamber of Secrets and being surprised at all the "sucks to your ass-mar" casual cruelty of the kids in that movie. And like looking back, it is crazy to see a younger version of yourself eating this nasty thing, and inflicting the nasty thing on your siblings and cousins just for the sake of feeling closer to a fictional world. I dunno, watching all the Kotaku article writers and streamers try to justify themselves for playing a game that has a super antisemitic plot and actively lines the pockets of a hateful transphobe, on some level I kind of feel what my dad felt... watching his kids eat vomit-flavored beans.

[ellorypurebloodculture]

#random poll of randomness

[foxglovevibes]

MC, after they and Sebastian enter the Room of Requirement and find Garreth exactly where they left him a few days ago: Garreth, what in Merlin's name are you doing?

Garreth, turning to look at the with a manic gleam in his eye and soot covering his face: the same thing I've been doing for three days! trying to figure out why specific ingredients behave differently when passed through a sieve!

Sebastian, looking unimpressed at the mess of crushed up candies littering the floor: with bertie bott's every flavour beans?

Garreth, turning to glare at him: I needed something bigger than peas now, didn't I?

MC, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder: Garreth, when was the last time you got any sleep?

Garreth, moving away to squat beside his mess of crushed bertie bott's beans and other assorted candies: I don't know, two, three days, not important. I don't need sleep, I need answers. I need to determine where in this swamp of unbalanced formulas, squatteth the toad of truth.

MC, turning to look at Sebastian after they stare at the redhead in silence for a few minutes: toad of truth, is that a wizarding thing?

Sebastian, slowly pulling out his wand to avoid startling an oblivious Garreth: no, that's a crazy thing.

#hogwarts legacy #foxglovevibes #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #foxglove writes #hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes #hogwarts legacy sebastian x mc #garreth weasley #big bang theory