#ellie hopper

[usernoneexistent]

November's outfit

Finally we have Ellie Hopper @thatravenpuffwitch and she is so cute! I got to play with so much texture and brushes and have fun with her. The skirt very much screams Weasley with the patchwork and the cosy fashion works so well with her.

#mmo23 #hogwarts mystery #ellie hopper

[thatravenpuffwitch]

Ellaby 🌱

#ellie hopper #barnaby lee #ellaby #hercules the bowtruckle #hphm #barnaby lee x mc #my doodles #redraw of my Ben and Ismelda Incident doodle #but this time in color

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 11: Foul Play

A/N: With the Quidditch season becoming increasingly ugly, the players try to find ways to not fall foul of Marcus Flint’s schemes. Hufflepuff team members belong to @that-scouse-wizard and @thatravenpuffwitch. Warnings: description of sports-related injury, mentions of ableism.

Artemis may have missed the Quidditch match in her attempt to uncover the identity of the stranger leaving messages for the Cabal, but she didn’t mind. Thanks to Tonks and Penny, she was given a full debriefing on the game over breakfast the following morning. 

“Honestly, you thought our match was bad,” Tonks muttered, shaking her violet-haired head. “I’ve never seen a game played with so many fouls.”

“Well, that’s Marcus Flint for you,” said Penny, leaning in towards them and lowering her voice. “Murphy McNully says that he’s the youngest team Quidditch Captain there’s been in over fifty years. But, Waveney Wiley also told me that Marcus’s dad threatened the previous captain so that he would be one this year. You see, originally the captaincy was meant to go to Bakari Nyoka-”

“Their Keeper?”

“He was their Keeper, but he’s quit the team. The captaincy fiasco was one thing, but after he heard Flint’s plans for the team to play as dirty as they have been… Well, that was the last quill for him.”

“What I’d like to know,” said Tonks, slapping her palm down on the table so hard she almost tipped over her pumpkin juice, “is how we stop them from taking the whole bloody Cup. They thrashed us, and now they’ve absolutely batteredRavenclaw. This new method they’re using is paying off, and we can’t stand for it. Someone’s got to do something!”

But Artemis couldn’t see what could be done. If neither their match nor Ravenclaw’s could be re-played, the Slytherins would remain in the lead for the Quidditch Cup. 

However, it seemed like Tonks was not the only one trying to think of a way to stop Flint’s foul play from succeeding. As she and her friends left the Great Hall, they found all three of the other Quidditch team captains engaged in what looked like a somewhat furtive conversation at the other end of the Hufflepuff table.

“We are well and truly out of the running this year. There’s no chance of us winning the Cup now,” Andre was saying, a comment to which Murphy made a low humming noise in response.

“Technically, there’s very few things that have an absolute chance of zero,” he told Andre. “But, I see your point. With Gryffindor’s win in your first match, and Slytherin beating you-”

“Oh, darling. There’s need to beat around the bush,” Andre shook his head sadly. “They annihilated us.”

“In that case, Slytherin’s annihilation of you yesterday gives them a point lead of five hundred and forty over you. That does make your likelihood of winning the Cup incredibly slim, I’m afraid. Less than thirteen percent. Charlie’s team would need to beat us with a margin of two hundred and sixty just to put them on an even keel with Slytherin going into the final, and then they’d have to not fall foul of Slytherin’s… well, fouls.”

“True,” said Andre. “Unless…”

Charlie’s red eyebrows furrowed. “Unless?”

“Well, I heard that a good strategy was right up Murphy’s alley.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

That was exactly what Artemis, who had paused to listen to the conversation, wanted to know. Apparently, Tonks was just as curious as she was, because she linked arms with Artemis and steered her over towards the boys.

“Wotcher, lads,” she said, plonking herself down next to Charlie and squashing his chin between her thumb and forefinger by way of greeting. “What’s this? Quidditch strategising, are we?”

“Yes, actually,” said Andre. He pouted slightly. “Although this is a meeting for captains, so-”

“That’s a shame, Andre, because this table is looking rather male dominated.”

“Well, now it’s looking rather Hufflepuff dominated.”

But Tonks was not going to give up that easily. “I just think you need to have more diversity in the group.”

“I think we’re already pretty diverse,” Andre replied. “Charlie’s poor, I’m black and gay, and Murphy is in a wheelchair.”

“Precisely. If there’s going to be a strategy, he’ll have to convey it to one of us in the air, won’t he?” Tonks raised her violet eyebrows and Andre sighed heavily.

“What were you saying, Andre?” Charlie asked diplomatically, and Andre shot a sulky look at both Tonks and Artemis before replying:

“Okay, so we all agree that Slytherin simply can’t be allowed to win the Cup this year, don’t we?” 

“Alright.”

“Yeah.”

“Agreed.”

“Yes, but allowing doesn’t come into it,” Murphy shook his head. “It’s Quidditch, there are too many variables over which we have no control. A good strategist allows for these variables, but even then, none of us can have complete control over the outcomes of the games.”

“Can’t we?” Andre raised his eyebrows. “Because I think we could, darling. After all, of the three matches left this season, two of them are being played by our teams alone.”

Artemis frowned. “Wait. You don’t mean…”

“Rigging the matches?” Charlie finished her question for her. “Andre, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Charlie, my love, I’m afraid that I’m being deadly serious.”

“But that’s cheating!”

“So what? It’s no less than what Flint and his lot of poorly accessorised Neanderthals have been doing all year,” Andre shrugged. “They want to play dirty, we are all more than capable of that. Some of us more so than others, I expect.” Smirking, his gaze drifted down to the knees of Artemis’ jeans, still ripped and grass-stained from her tussle with the Whomping Willow the day before. “Artemis, darling, I don’t even want to know what you’ve been up to recently.”

Artemis scowled at him, and he winked at her theatrically. Charlie cleared his throat loudly and the attention turned back to him.

“Andre, we can’t rig matches,” he said shortly. “Cheating like that, it’s just stooping to their level.”

“Okay, I see what you’re trying to say, but hear me out. Slytherin have cheated their way to a win in every single game this season. And they’ve hurt players in the process. Poor Abigail is going to have a black eye for weeks after what Flint did to her yesterday, and he’s laughing about it. The boy thinks he’s invincible, and he needs to be taught otherwise. Now, is it not our job as upstanding senior students to teach him that valuable lesson?”

“It still sounds like cheating to me,” muttered Artemis. “Right, Tonks? Tonks?”

But rather than doubtful, Tonks looked tempted. 

“I mean, he has a point,” she shrugged. “Normally, I’d say no way, but Marcus is such a prat. Just look at how he was with you at the start of our match, Murphy.” She gave Murphy a sympathetic look, and he inclined his head.  “I just think that if we can stop him from getting the satisfaction of winning, it might just wipe that stupid smirk off his face. I’m more concerned about how we do it without getting caught, honestly.”

“Ah, I’m already one step ahead of you there, Dora,” said Andre, looking straight at Murphy. “Thankfully, we have a master statistician in our midst. So, the next match is played by all your lot. We work out the biggest point margin Hufflepuff can beat Gryffindor by to give them a good advantage going into the final without it looking suspicious, and then, after Gryffindor play Slytherin - and hopefully win, as long as their Beaters don’t knock Charlie clean out of the sky-”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, Andre.”

“You’re welcome. Now, after your match against Slytherin, it’s us against you, Murphy. What I’m thinking is that once we know how many points Slytherin will have at the end of the season, you might be able to work out the most statistically plausible way to get enough points in our match to take the Cup from right under Flint’s nose. Sound doable to you?”

“Theoretically speaking, yes,” Murphy said quietly. “I just don’t know how I feel about cheating my way to a win.”

“Well, don’t look at it as cheating, just… making it an even ground,” Andre shrugged and rose from his seat. “Have a little think about it, darlings, and let me know the plan.”

With that, as well as a swish of his scarf, Andre left. Charlie and Tonks soon followed suit, still quietly debating the issue as they walked out of the Great Hall. Murphy, for once, was completely silent, staring thoughtfully at the mug of coffee on the table in front of him. 

“You’re not considering this, are you?” Artemis asked him, and he said nothing in response. “Murphy, this is wrong! Think about Orion, and what he’d say about balance and fairness and… I dunno, stars or fate or something.” Murphy laughed, but it was a hollow laugh, and Artemis sighed. “You’re really thinking about doing it, aren’t you?”

“Artemis, you saw the way Flint looked at me before the first match of the season.”

“Yeah, but-”

“People have looked at me that way ever since I can remember. Like they think I’m less than them, just because I’m in this thing,” Murphy gestured to his wheelchair and shook his head. “I’ve always been ‘that wizard in the wheelchair’, and then I got this captaincy and thought that it would be different, but… Now I’m just ‘that captain in the wheelchair’. And I see people looking, I know they all think that I’m not capable, because I can’t ride a broomstick, and I want to prove them wrong. Not just Flint, all of them.”

“I know, and you will. You’re a brilliant captain, even without a broom, because you are so good at numbers and strategies and all the other stuff I’m not clever enough to understand, but you are. You’re really clever, actually.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. You know, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw.” Artemis shook her head, and Murphy continued, “I asked to be in Hufflepuff instead.”

Artemis frowned. “Why?”

“Because of what Helga Hufflepuff always said: ‘I’ll take the lot, and treat them just the same’. I thought that the chances of me being able to fit in would be higher if I were in Hufflepuff, that I’d be seen as an equal to everyone else for a change. I just wanted to be treated fairly. But life isn’t fair, is it?” 

“I guess not,” said Artemis. “But Murphy, rigging Quidditch matches won’t make it any fairer.”

“No. It won’t,” Murphy smiled sadly. “Which is why I won’t do it.”

“You won’t?” 

“No. If I’m going to prove that I can be a winning Quidditch Captain, I’m going to win fair and square. It’s not impossible. Nothing is, statistically speaking.”

The following weekend, Artemis and the rest of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team gathered in the changing tents, the sounds of the rest of the school echoing in through the canvas from the stadium outside. Murphy cleared his throat as he wheeled himself inside, and the team picked up their broomsticks to gather around him.

“The match should start in precisely one and a half minutes,” he told them, “so I won’t spend long giving a speech. However, I do want to make sure that you’re all clear on our strategy. I’ve been speaking to Weasley about it, and we’ve both decided that given Slytherin’s latest performances, we want to make this a good, clean game, with no fouls whatsoever from either side. Let’s show them how real sportsmen-“

“And women,” Tonks interjected, waving one hand in the direction of the majority of the team members and inadvertently hitting David Willows in the face.

“And women” - Murphy nodded - “play Quidditch.”

The start of the match was far more sportsperson-ly than that of the last match Artemis had played. Before the game began, Murphy and Charlie shook hands under the watchful gaze of Madam Hooch’s hawklike eyes, each nodding at the other in recognition as they did so.

“Good luck, mate.”

“And to you.”

Murphy went to Madam Hooch’s side and Charlie returned to his position on the starting line-up, ready for the four Quidditch balls to be released. As the Golden Snitch was freed from the box, he cocked one eyebrow at Artemis and shrugged, a small smirk playing on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him and glared stubbornly, and he laughed, immediately rising into the air as the Quaffle was released. 

Artemis set off after him, as per the strategy Murphy had given her before the match; Charlie was incredibly good at slipping away out of sight when he wanted to get an advantage on the Snitch, and neither she nor Murphy intended to let him do just that.

Once the the game was in play, it was just as clean as Murphy and Charlie had promised it would be, but that did not meant that the competition wasn’t fierce. If anything, the match was faster paced than any Artemis had ever seen or played in. Barely thirty minutes into the game, goals had been scored and saved by both teams, which seemed incredibly evenly matched.

“Spectacular save there from Hufflepuff Keeper, Amelia Booth,” announced Lee Jordan the commentator. “The score remains twenty to Hufflepuff, ten to Gryffindor.” Amelia threw the Quaffle back onto the pitch and Jordan continued, “Booth passes to Costa, Costa to Haywood, Haywood to Hopper.”

Below, the Hufflepuff Chasers were advancing across the length of the pitch in formation, making small passes between themselves. Artemis watched them for almost a minute before realising that, in doing so, she had stopped marking Charlie, who had taken the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. She swore under her breath as she looked for him, and saw him several yards away from her, hovering metres above her head. She rose up to meet him, and as she did, one of the Hufflepuff Chasers accelerated towards the scoring zone, Quaffle in hand, her curly blonde hair whipping in the wind behind her.

“That’s Hopper of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle again, and she’s flying straight for the Gryffindor goalposts! She shoots, and… YES! Well done, Oliver! I mean, Wood saves the goal, not that I care as an impartial commentator. Gryffindor’s reserve Chaser Angelina Johnson picks up the Quaffle - shame she can’t pick up the hints I’ve been trying to give her all year, but that’s girls for you…”

“Jordan!”

“Sorry, Professor. Anyway, Johnson loses the Quaffle to Beatrice Haywood, what force of nature that girl is. Also a force of nature, however, is Fred Weasley… Or is that George? It’s hard to tell from here. Anyway, a Bludger from one of the Weasleys is sent straight for Haywood, but it looks like Tonks of Hufflepuff is getting ready to- Ooh, that was close!”

Several feet below Artemis, Tonks had entered the fray to beat a Bludger away from Bea Haywood, and in her enthusiasm to do so, almost hit Angelina Johnson with her bat. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Charlie dove down to see what had happened, Artemis instinctively following behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tonks was saying to the Gryffindor Chaser, the hand that wasn’t holding her bat pressed to her mouth. “I didn’t hit you, did I?”

The girl shook her head and after a brief discussion with Madam Hooch, it was decided that, as Tonks’ error was clearly accidental and no harm had been done, that no foul had been committed.

“Just be glad that you missed,” said Madam Hooch, with a stern glare at Tonks. “Free pass to Gryffindor.”

“We don’t need a free pass, Madam Hooch. There wasn’t a foul.”

Tonks shook her head. “Nah, Charlie. Have the free pass.”

While Charlie and Tonks were debating with Madam Hooch which team should take possession of the Quaffle once the game restarted, Artemis took the opportunity to scan the pitch for a glimpse of the Golden Snitch. As luck would have it, she caught sight of the tiny glimmer of gold flitting around the opposite side of the pitch. A furtive glance at Charlie confirmed her suspicion that he was too busy to have seen it, but whilst the time out was still in session, she couldn’t fly after the ball. However, as the Quaffle was handed back to Angelina Johnson and Madam Hooch raised her whistle to her lips, Artemis allowed her broom to drift slowly in the direction of the Snitch, ready to begin her chase.

As the match recommenced, Artemis zoned in on the tiny ball, her eyes fixed on the sparkle of gold in the distance as she pushed her broom forward to accelerate. Having drifted away from Charlie during the time out, she was a lot closer to it than he was, but she knew that her advantage wouldn’t last long. As much as she would have hated to admit it to herself or to him, she knew that he was a much better flier than she was. 

Sure enough, over the sound of the wind blowing past her ears, she could just about hear Lee Jordan announcing: “Hexley in hot pursuit of the Snitch, but Weasley is gaining on her!”

But though Charlie was the better flier, she had the better broom. And though he had skill on his side, Artemis had the wind on hers; it caught the tail of her broom as she pushed forward to accelerate further and sent her flying faster still, away from Charlie and towards the Snitch. 

She might beat him this time, she realised. She might actually beat him.

“Looks like Hexley’s managed to put some more distance between herself and one Weasley, but she’s heading for two more!”

In either side of her peripheral vision, bright red blurs were approaching Artemis, and as they flew closer, she was able to recognise the Weasley twins, both with their Beater’s bats raised.

On her right, Fred swung at a Bludger and it whizzed her way, and she ducked out of its path, leaving it to fly over her head and straight towards George on her left. He swung, too, and the Bludger was sent back in her direction. She swerved away from George’s Bludger, but she had now been delayed in her chase for the Snitch.

“Have you lost something, Artemis?” George called out, as Artemis scanned the pitch once more. But the Snitch was gone. Fred began to laugh, and she glared at him.

And then she saw it. Somehow, the Snitch had managed to fly back towards her without her realising, and was now hovering just by Fred’s ear. She smirked, and flew towards him, once more in pursuit of the ball.

“Stop her, Freddie!”

But it was too late, the twins had sent their Bludger in the opposite direction, and there was nothing Fred could do to stop her, not now that the Snitch was so tantalisingly close, so close she could almost reach out and-

SMACK!

A deafeningly loud noise reverberated around Artemis’ skull, accompanied by a searing pain at the back of her head. Her ears ringing slightly and white dots starting to appear in her vision, Artemis raised her hands to the spot from which the pain was radiating, and felt that her hair was damp. She pulled her hands away and looked down at her now red palms, which were starting to look fuzzy. 

“Huh,” she said, as she slid sideways off her broom and fell down into a world that had suddenly turned black.

The first thing Artemis saw was a deep red light. Then she heard the voices, lots of them, overlapping with each other and with the quiet ringing noise that echoed between her ears. She frowned, and after feeling her eyebrows move, opened her eyelids to reveal a shadowy figure of a person standing over her, their face obscured by the blinding light behind them. She blinked, and another shadow appeared, and then another.

“Okay, she’s awake,” said a voice - Chiara’s voice. “Everyone give her some air, please.” The shadows moved away, and Artemis attempted to push herself up to a seated position, but a hand pressed on her shoulder, and Chiara’s voice told her, “Don’t get up. Just stay there and get your bearings, while I look at your head.”

Artemis nodded - it hurt to nod - and propped herself up onto her elbows to see what was going on around her. The rest of Quidditch players had landed their brooms, and were gathered around the pitch nearby, with Tonks and Bea Haywood at Artemis’ side, and Charlie and the Weasley twins deep in a loud and obviously heated conversation with Madam Hooch and Murphy.

“You’ve taken a really nasty knock here, Artemis,” Chiara told her. 

“A Bludger?”

“Not quite,” Tonks muttered darkly, holding up a large wooden bat almost identical to her own. “Turns out the twins were so inspired by my accidental foul, they decided to give it a go themselves.”

Said twins were rushing over to Artemis, with Charlie and Madam Hooch continuing their conversation as they followed behind. Charlie was still almost shouting - or perhaps his voice just sounded louder because of how badly her head hurt - despite the fact that the twins were now at her side apologising profusely.

“We’re both really sorry, Artemis. Are you okay?” one of them asked, looking less anxious after Chiara nodded. Behind him, Charlie’s face was still tense.

“No thanks to you and your bat,” he said, in a voice that was laced with barely disguised fury.

“Hey! It wasn’t my bat, it was Fred’s. Honestly, you call yourself our brother…” 

“We can’t delay the rest of the match forever,” said Madam Hooch impatiently. “Poppy, is she fit to…” Her voice tailed off and she did a double take at Chiara before asking, “Miss Lobosca, where is Madam Pomfrey?”

“She’s had to go and treat a student who’s been had a nasty run-in the Whomping Willow,” Chiara told her. “She asked me to take over here.”

“Right. Well, do you think Hexley fit to play?”

“I don’t think-”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Artemis, sitting bolt upright and ignoring the way the world began to spin around her as she did so. “I can keep playing.”

Chiara sighed. “Artemis, I think you need to sit this one out. You have a concussion.”

“No. No, I want to play,” Artemis insisted, and the small crowd around her exchanged looks of doubt. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. And Fred and George have both apologised, so it’s all good.”

She gestured at the twins, who frowned in perfect unison. No one said anything for a moment, until Charlie cleared his throat.

“Uh, Artemis… That’s just George,” he said, stepping sideways to reveal another twin behind him. “Fred’s over here.” 

It was strange, but now that Charlie mentioned it, there were two of everyone nearby: two Chiaras, two Tonkses, two Murphys, two Madam Hooches, and two of each of Professors McGonagall and Sprout, who had just arrived at the scene.

“Is everything under control here?”

“Certainly, Minerva. We were just ascertaining whether Miss Hexley was in a fit state to continue playing. As it happens, she is not.”

“I am,” Artemis protested, clambering up to her feet and swaying slightly, earning herself a fresh round of sceptical stares. “I am. Right, Chiara? Tonks? Murphy?” When none of them agreed, she turned to the person she knew would back her up. “Charlie?”

But even Charlie wasn’t on her side today, because he shrugged and shook his head. 

“You’re concussed, Artie. I’m sorry.”

Furious, Artemis’ jaw dropped open, and though she tried to protest, it was no use, for everyone had already started to speak over her and she was feeling dizzy again.

“There we have it,” said Madam Hooch. “Let’s get back to business, without Hexley.”

“And without Fred and George,” Charlie added, and all eyes turned to him, with the twins protesting in overlapping voices.

“What?”

“You can’t send us off!”

“We’re family!”

“It’s Quidditch!”

“They have a point, Weasley. Sending uninjured players off the pitch is not in the rules.”

“I don’t care, McNully. You and I agreed we’d have a clean match, and I told my team as much. If they don’t want to listen to my instructions, I don’t want them on my pitch.”

Professor McGonagall tutted. “Really, Weasley. I don’t think that’s quite necessary.”

“But I do,” Charlie replied shortly. “And with all due respect, Professor, I’m the Captain of this team, not you.”

With that, he mounted his broomstick and took to the sky, leaving the others in a baffled silence that was broken by the sound of Tonks’ low whistle.

“Well, Bludger me.”

Artemis was escorted directly to the Hospital Wing, unable even to watch the rest of the match, though why she couldn’t have waited for the game to finish before she left, she wasn’t sure. Madam Pomfrey was too busy attending to her other patient to do anything but occasionally glance at Artemis and make sure that she was still breathing, and was still preoccupied when the rest of the school returned from the pitch and the sound of hundreds of footsteps echoed into the hospital from the corridors outside.

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey being so busy meant that Chiara, Tonks, and Penny were able to sneak into the Hospital Wing without her noticing, their pockets filled with sweets, and told her about the remainder of the match in hushed voices.

“Well, Charlie obviously caught the Snitch-”

“Of course he did,” Artemis muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“- but, because Gryffindor had no Beaters to stop them, the Hufflepuff Chasers did manage to score several goals before that,” Penny continued, smiling proudly. “Bea scored a hat-trick, you know.”

“Good for her.”

“It means that even though Gryffindor won, the difference between the scores wasn’t that big,” Tonks said, popping a piece of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum into her mouth. “Murphy said that if Slytherin and Gryffindor end up fairly evenly matched and we do well against Ravenclaw, we still have a decent shot at the Cup, at least.”

Artemis nodded, but it wasn’t the Cup that she was annoyed about. Before she could say anything, however, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened once more, and the girls were joined by Charlie Weasley and Jae Kim.

“Wotcher, lads. What brings you here?”

“I wanted to make sure my idiot brothers hadn’t done too much damage,” said Charlie, with smile that was almost a grimace.

“And you, Jae?”

“Huh? Oh, I just thought I’d come and see how Hex is doing, you know,” Jae shuffled over and peered at the back of Artemis’ head. “Hm. Looks like you’ve been pretty well patched up. Well done, Chiara. Good job. Very impressive.”

His hand flinched as if he were about to give Chiara a thumbs up, but hastily stuffed both fists into his pockets as the others stared at him.

“Right,” Chiara blinked. “Thank you, Jae.”

“You’re welcome. Any time.” 

Jae cleared his throat, and Charlie shook his head at him. Judging by the awkward silence, Artemis was not the only one who didn’t know what to say.

“So, anyway…”

“What is this?” a sharp voice echoed through the Hospital Wing as Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind a curtain that was closed around one of the beds. “This isn’t visiting hours. All of you, out!” Reluctantly, Artemis’ friends filed out of the hospital. All except one. “You too, Mr Weasley.”

“Oh, I’m not visiting. I’m injured.”

“You don’t look injured to me.”

Charlie held up his right hand and grimaced. “I think it might be a repetitive strain injury. Seeker’s hand, you know?”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Well, you’ll just have to wait. I’m dealing with a serious Herbology-related incident at the moment.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Charlie shrugged, and once Madam Pomfrey was safely back behind the curtain, lowered his voice to tell Artemis, “I don’t actually have Seeker’s hand.”

“I know.”

“I don’t even know if Seeker’s hand is a real thing.”

“Not in the hand you don’t use to catch Snitches with, it isn’t,” Artemis muttered, glaring at Charlie’s left hand. “I nearly caught that one today. I would’ve had it if it weren’t for Fred.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am. Really sorry. I actually brought you something to make up for it,” Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a walnut-sized golden ball, which he held between his thumb and forefinger, smiling. “See? It’s the Snitch. They can only use them for a game once, so McGonagall said I could keep it. I thought you might want it.”

Artemis pouted.

“I don’t want your pity Snitch,” she said, her haughty expression giving way when she saw the disappointed look in Charlie’s eyes. She sighed heavily and threw herself backwards, trying her hardest not to wince as her head hit the pillow. “I just… I’ve never gotten to play against you in a proper match, only in fun games before. And every time, you’ve won. This was the first time I would have been able to beat you, and it was the last time we’ll ever get to play against each other, so I won’t get another chance.”

“Of course you will,” Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowing.

“No, because we’re all leaving Hogwarts, aren’t we? We’re going to go off and do our own things, and we won’t be all together here anymore.”

“I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t be friends anymore, or that none of us will ever see each other again.”

“It doesn’t?”

“I mean, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, that’s for sure,” said Charlie, half-smiling. “He held the Snitch out to her once more. “Go on. Take the pity Snitch.” When Artemis hesitated, he added, “Take it, and after exams are done we can release it and race for it. Loser buys dinner once we’ve left Hogwarts, deal?”

“Fine. Deal,” Artemis said, taking the Snitch from Charlie’s outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Charlie sighed. “Look, I know it feels like everything is ending. It feels that way for me too, but to you it’s worse, because here… Well, Hogwarts is like a home to you, isn’t it?” Artemis said nothing, just turned the Snitch over in her fingers. “I’m not saying it to upset you, I just… I’m trying to say that you’re not going to lose anything worth losing. Not a home, not a family. Alright?”

It took Artemis a second to reply, but she nodded her head and whispered, “Yeah. Alright.”

“Good.” For a moment, Charlie looked like he might hug her, but instead he shrugged and looked over his shoulder at the curtain behind which Madam Pomfrey had disappeared before adding, “Right. I should go before Madam Pomfrey comes back from treating whoever it was that got Whomped earlier and realises there’s nothing wrong with my hand.”

Artemis froze. “What?”

“There’s nothing actually wrong with-”

“No, I mean… Someone got Whomped today?”

“Yeah, Chiara mentioned it during the time-out. I’m guessing that’s what Madam Pomfrey meant by the ‘serious Herbology-related incident’.”

“Who was it?”

“I dunno, I was on the pitch,” Charlie frowned. “Why?”

Artemis opened her mouth to answer his question, but shut it again as Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtain and walked across the Hospital Wing to her office. She shook her head.

“It’s not important. I can tell you later,” she said. When Charlie gave her a quizzical look, she nodded her head at the door. “Quickly, before Madam Pomfrey gets back.”

Charlie still looked as if he wanted to know more, but he made his escape while he could. Once he was gone, Artemis glanced at Madam Pomfrey’s door before padding across to the bed with the closed curtains and pulling them open. The moment she did, Artemis’ mouth fell open.

“It was you.”

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #hphm #the hexley saga #charlie weasley #murphy mcnully #andre egwu #penny haywood #nymphadora tonks #chiara lobosca #jae kim #david willows #ellie hopper #amelia booth #beatrice haywood #fred weasley #george weasley

[phoenixresistance]

The Phoenix Resistance- Book 2 Chapter 28 FINALE!

A/N: Well... here we are on the last page. Nine months all lead up to this. This is the ending for now but make sure to stick around for the character epilogues in the next few weeks for more endings!! As always: Mina belongs to @lifeofkaze and also Ava in mention. Artemis in mention belongs to @the-al-chemist and both Henry and Ellie belong to @thatravenpuffwitch. Enjoy!

Ministry of Magic, Atrium, London - May 2nd, 1998, 6:13 AM

A few hours went by as they waited. The atrium was completely silent for all of them but Devon. As much as she tried to push out the thoughts of her friends, they kept sneaking in. Each one of them were scared, some more than others.

Many of them paced back and forth, occasionally glancing down the dark rows of fireplaces when they thought they heard something, forms stiffening and the grip on their wands tightening only to relax when nothing came out of the darkness. Devon stood directly behind the barricade, never taking her eyes off the entrances. Her legs were stiff after hours of standing and the pain in her ribs was steadily getting worse but she refused to sit down, even after multiple suggestions from Henry. Dried blood that wasn’t hers caked her pants and hands.

It was just after sunrise that finally they saw exactly what they were dreading. A green light flickered and flashed deep within the darkness and they heard the roar of flames as a figure emerged from the floo network.

Mina and Eloise stood up from their places by the statue and they all approached the barricade as a group with their wands pointed forwards.

“Hey, stop right there!” Kaari called out loudly to the figure that got closer and closer.

The tension in the room relaxed as out from the shadows stepped a man with dark skin and rich purple robes. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. Everyone’s wands dropped to their sides, except Devon who remained in place, her wand shaking slightly.

“If it’s really you, tell me your favorite type of bread,” Devon sent into Kingsley’s mind silently.

“Cinnamon raisin, of course,” she heard him reply back into her own mind.

“So, did we win?” Kaari inquired.

“Yes. Harry Potter has defeated Voldemort once and for all,” Kingsley’s deep voice filled the empty silence.

What followed was shouts of joy and exclamations of relief. Devon stood staring forward in shock before her knees finally gave out and she collapsed to the floor. All the adrenaline in her system crashed and the weight of the entire war came crumbing down upon her shoulders, like Atlas holding up the sky. Everyone was safe. Nobody else was going to die under her command.

“Dev! Oh Merlin, are you ok?” Henry immediately rushed to her side and scooped her up.

“Yea, I’m fine. I just need to rest for a second,” she signed.

Kingsley had climbed over the barricade and now crouched down next to them, his hand outstretched towards Devon who shook it gladly.

“Thanks for holding down the fort, Marlowe. I’ll take it from here,” he smiled gently.

“There’s one more thing I need to do, if you would allow me? In fact, I could really use your help, Kingsley,” Devon signed and pushed herself to her feet, Henry supporting her from one side.

...

With Kingsley’s help, the Phoenix Resistance wrote and printed one last newspaper together. This one, however, had no enchantments placed upon it to obscure the words.

Witches and wizards all around England watched as papers appeared with a flash from their floo networks and fell gently from the sky, a dark winged shadow accompanying it. The gold fiery Phoenix symbol blazed at the top of the paper, now visible to all.

Headlined right at the top with large letters said “Harry Potter Defeats The Dark Lord!”

The paper also went into great detail debunking the false muggleborn propaganda that was spread during the war. It included some damning evidence against many Death Eaters, calling them out by name. The puppet government was also revealed to the public. Pius Thicknesse had been under the imperius curse and Voldemort was the true leader during the war.

With that, the Phoenix flew one last time. However, this time it didn’t fly under the cover of night and it wasn’t exchanged by the hushed whispers of people in taverns. It also wouldn’t erupt into fire and burn away. This time it was persistent and loud.

At the bottom of the paper, where usually there was a blank space, now was filled with words.

“By Devon Marlowe”

The author of the Phoenix Paper was finally revealed.

As for what was to follow in the next few months after, Devon Marlowe would work under Kingsley as one of the head lawyers for the Death Eater Trials. The information she presented from the notebook she kept during the war was instrumental in the arrests and trials that followed.

The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London - May 6th, 1998, 5:04 PM

The next few days passed in a blur for most of them. Kaari was more drunk than he was sober as he had a celebratory drink with anyone he came across. Devon on the other hand had buried herself in her work.

Tonight, however, Henry had managed to tear her away for a moment. The two of them held hands as they entered the Leaky Cauldron. Heads turned and hushed voices whispered as they made their way to a small table in the corner that already had many figures crowded around it.

“Hey, is that her? The former leader of the Phoenix Resistance?”

“No way.”

“Look at her scars. Of course it’s her.”

“Then those people at the table.. are they-“

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” Kaari loudly exclaimed, raising his tankard high in the air. Clearly he had started drinking early.

“C’mon, grab a seat!”

“What seat? You guys couldn’t find a larger table?” Henry laughed, pulling up a few more chairs from a nearby empty table.

It looked like they were the last ones to arrive. Along with Kaari Arcano, the table was surrounded by Mina Pendleton, Ellie Hopper, and even Eloise Yaxley. It was a shame that Ava Campbell and Artemis Hexley weren’t here, but Devon knew they were here in spirit.

Once everyone got settled, Kaari ordered a round for everyone. They spent the next little while in idle conversation. Each of them took turns talking about their day and what they had gotten up to in the last few days. Devon found herself laughing often, something she rarely did the last ten months. They were finally free from the darkness.

A bittersweet sadness sat in Devon’s chest as she couldn’t help but compare this to one of the first drinks she had in the Lone Star. Back then, it was just her, Henry, and Kaari. Their family had certainly grown since then. However, they had also lost family.

Immediately after they had sent out the last Phoenix Paper, the five of them left after their coup on the Ministry to deal with their fallen friends.

Mirai Wilson was cremated, matching their other fallen companion who was already ash. It was easy enough for Kaari to sneak into the back garden of the Wilson Manor, as he had done it once before. There, he watched as her ashes were picked up by the spring breeze and scattered through the grass and flowers. As long as Lenwin and Kiri stayed there, they would be close to her. Even if they didn’t know it. Lenwin would discover a piece of parchment jammed into the kitchen window, telling him of her passing in the line of duty. Her life was given so that many others would live.

Eleanor and Eme’s ashes were somewhat mixed and intertwined as they laid upon the Ministry floor. The Resistance combined them and after some discussion, they decided to take a trip to Pendle Hill together. Four hundred and two years after they were born, the twins finally returned home to rest.

The Resistance stood side by side and watched as the ashes blew up into the slowly darkening sky as the sun set over Pendle Hill. After a while, they all said their goodbyes and parted ways. Not forever, of course. They would always be friends.

It was now only a few short days later and they had reunited once again to have one last drink for the ones that they had lost. It was then that Devon stood up.

“To Mirai and Eleanor,” she signed before hoisting her tankard up high.

“To the Resistance,” Kaari added after translating for Devon.

The others stood up and joined her in her toast, their glasses lifting high into the air. They were surprised when their voices were joined with many others, echoing out around the entire tavern, their glasses raised in solemn recognition.

“To the Resistance!”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #the phoenix resistance #tpr #devon marlowe #kaari arcano #henry mcclarnon #mina pendleton #eloise yaxley #kingsley shacklebolt #eleanor amaranthine #mirai wilson #ellie hopper #artemis hexley #ava campbell

[unfortunate-arrow]

Congrats on 250 followers, Arrow! 🧡☺️

Can I request a moodboard for my MC Ellie? Thank you!

Eleanor Florence “Ellie” Hopper

Hufflepuff • INFJ • Auror • Herbologist • Artist

#thank you! #ellie hopper #hphm #hogwarts mystery #my aesthetic #250 followers celebration #hope you like it! #and that the quotes fit her well

[ellie-e-marcovitz]

Happy birthday to Ellie Hopper! @thatravenpuffwitch

#ellie hopper #a multitude of universes #birthday

[rosieshipper]

🍩, 🥨 for el,🧋, 🍦?

- @badpretzels

@badpretzels thank you so much for the ask!!

🍩; When you're having a bad day what would your familiar f/o do to cheer you up?

I would imagine El would probably cheer me up by trying to make us both the biggest plates of eggos she could get her hands on and then either put on some music try to dance with me or just flip through the channels on tv until we find something we both like

🥨; For ones with younger f/os, does it sometimes feel like you're more naïve than them? For ones with older f/os, do you ever feel like you're taking care of them more?

I would say me and El are on the same level of naivety, considering we both didn’t get to experience a lot of our childhoods since we were both kidnapped at a young age and kept in a lab for a huge majority of our childhoods, coming back into the world, a lot of things were new for the both of us

🧋; What traditions in your irl family do you imagine celebrating with them?

Game night, definitely! We have a huge collection of board games that we both play together on our own and with our dad, game night is definitely one of our favorite traditions!

🍦; What life lessons would you most likely be taught by your familiar f/o? What life lessons would you most likely teach them?

A life lesson that El would probably teach me is to not take things for granted, slow down and enjoy what I have before moving on to bigger things, enjoy what I have left of my childhood. And as for a lesson I would teach El, it would be to be careful but also not too careful

#self shipping #self ship #selfshipping #self ship community #self insert #selfship community #f/o #stranger things #eleven stranger things #eleven #eleven hopper #el hopper #ellie hopper #jane hopper #little sis el

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

---

this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #background jargyle #background ronance #but it’s pre every relationship #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #robin would die for steve #steve harrington has bad parents #but jim hopper adopts him because i said so #steve and eleven have a sibling bond #he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way #this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think

[where-our-stories-start]

"Gruff, jaded man accidentally adopts feisty child" has got to be one of my favorite genres

#found family #adoptive fathers #news of the world #captain kidd #johanna kidd #the sea beast #jacob holland #maisie brumble #stranger things #jim hopper #eleven hopper #el hopper #jane hopper #the last of us #tlou #joel miller #ellie williams #treasure planet #long john silver #jim hawkins #game of thrones #davos seaworth #shireen baratheon #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #leia organa #princess leia #sandor clegane #the hound #arya stark

[love-toxin]

Okay but miscommunication trope is only super yummy when there’s a happy ending. Liiiike reader thinking they’re getting kicked out of their relationship in the fruity four, they’re not wanted anymore, maybe even bring replaced (ie with someone like Chrissy), and so every little sarcastic quip or ignoring is seen by them as the others not loving them anymore 🥺. Until one day it all comes crumbling down and I can’t decide with is more angsty, you breaking down telling the others they don’t love you anymore, or you trying to be brave by announcing you’re leaving and the fours hearts just dropping as they try to scramble to convince you to stay and why?! Why are you leaving!?!?! Please! But of course, happy ending when everything’s properly explained and angel is reassured they could never all fall out of love with them ❤️

oh.......miscommunication trope, you say? >:)

(cws: fruity four, gn!angelface, jealousy, post-s4, PTSD, huge miscommunication trope, domestic arguing, you have a tattoo + kinda shitty parents + bad home life, chrissy's a jealousy target, breakups, jopper appearance, you're childhood friends with jonathan, mentions of grief, an almost car crash, very mild head trauma, crying, angst with a happy ending--stick with me angels!)

Sometimes you wish Chrissy would just disappear. Just--poof--and she'd be gone.

It's awful of you to think, but you can't help it. She's just always around, ever since her breakup with Jason she's been by the house much more frequently. You were happy for her at first, because you liked her up until then, and she's always been nice to you. Plus, your partners saved her life back when all that crazy stuff with the Upside Down happened, an event you weren't privy to until after the fact, when you started dating them.

But she's always on Eddie, always chatting him up, always giggling at his attempts to cheer her up, and now she's attracted the attention of your other partners too. They're good friends, and that's good, but....why can you not shake this feeling that there's something more going on? That the arm touches over his jacket and the inside jokes aren't as friendly and harmless as they want you to think?

It's worse than that, though. The honeymoon phase is clearly over--cause all four of them just brush off your concerns, insisting that you're overreacting or just not addressing them at all. So you haven't been piping up when a joke hurts your feelings, and you've bitten your tongue when one of them has to reschedule something you've planned, and it's gotten to the point that they've wondered why you're so quiet all of a sudden. Why would they care? You think with a sour feeling in the back of your throat, rubbing the tattoo on your arm that Eddie gave you and wondering if that was just practice for someone else. You're not oblivious to the way Chrissy is slowly being invited into gatherings and dinners with everyone.....just like you were in the beginning. And after an especially heated fight with both Eddie and Robin, the worst one you've ever gotten into in your entire relationship, he got so pissed off that he just told you not to come to the dinner they had planned, and they'd take someone who actually wanted to go.

That was a couple days ago, and the air in the house has been strained for nobody else but you. You're equally as hurt by Eddie yelling at you as Robin silently going along with it, even though you slammed your bedroom door in her face when she tried to follow you, and waited until Eddie tugged her along to leave before you allowed yourself to cry. You're sick of the feeling that none of them really care for you, that you've been demoted to a piece of furniture in the house, because they've clearly lost interest. And they don't care when your things start disappearing from the house, when the clothes in your closet start dwindling, leaving behind nothing but the ones they've bought for you--no, they'd rather moon over Chrissy fucking Cunningham, and you've just taken all you think your heart can handle.

"I'm going out!" You call into the house from the front door, without any of their four voices responding. When you sigh, turn, and step out to turn the corner of the house, though, you bump right into one of them.

"Oh! Hey, baby." Steve steps back and readjusts the paper bag full of groceries he's got his arm around, keys halfway tucked into his pocket. "Where you off to?"

"Um....just, uh, gonna go visit my parents." You weren't really expecting him to pry, with how in your head you've been lately. But you're not gonna relent just cause one of the people who promised he'd love you forever, yet somehow can't be fucked enough to find the time to even watch a movie with you, asked you a question that remotely shows an ounce of concern.

"Your parents?" He blinks, shifting again to rest the bag on his hip. "You sure?"

That tone is so irritating. You used to love that almost parental sense of duty, the desire of his to know every detail of every problem so he can solve it. But now, you just feel suffocated, even though you're more distant from all of them now than you've ever been. "What, I'm not allowed to see my family?"

"Hey, that's not what I said! hold on," He moves to put the groceries inside, but you wave him off and start walking past him, your tone clearly frustrated as you encourage him to just forget it. But, in a tizzy, Steve hurriedly sets the bag down on the ground and runs to catch up with you, his hand descending on your arm only to be swatted away--but not for long, when he grabs it again and grips it tighter as he turns you to face him. "Jesus, wait! What's the big fuss? Did I do something?"

"Let me go, Steve." You refuse to look him in the eyes, but you can't break his grip. Why can't he just let it go, so it's less painful? "I don't wanna drag this out."

"Drag what out?" Finally, it dawns on him as his eyes dart from the keys clenched in your hand to the windows of your car parked in the driveway, boxes clearly piled up in the trunk and in the backseat that none of them seemed to notice you moving.

".....So that's it? You're breaking up with us?" Steve says it with disbelief, like he's expecting you to say something or anything different. It's almost a little satisfying when you respond in the way he never could have expected, even though he should've by now. Even though it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it comes up.

"You know what? Yes. That's exactly it." You finally wrench your arm out of his grip, and each of those words sting as they come out, but you won't cry, you refuse to cry in front of Steve today. "I'm leaving tonight, and I'm never coming back to Hawkins again."

"Why?"

"Ask your new girlfriend."

"Who? Wait--Chrissy?" He shakes his head, and what comes out next is more cruel than you wanted to be--but he just won't get it, it won't happen unless you make them realize why they don't want you anymore.

"Wow, the jock has a brain! Well done, Stevie." He grimaces at once, and god, you wish it would all stuff itself back into your throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being such a-"

"I know you're in love with her, Steve! For fuck's sakes, I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" You shout into the broken silence of the front lawn, wishing from the deepest reaches of your heart that this could all just be a horrible nightmare. Not reality. You don't want to be facing those big, soft eyes of Steve staring back at you in shock and pain, so you just turn your head and hope he doesn't see how much you're shaking.

"I get it, okay?! She's prettier than me, and nicer, and she doesn't have my fucking issues--and you guys clearly like her. It's like I don't even exist when she's around." You move aside to gesture towards your car, keys clutched in your hand so they won't fall or get taken from you, because you know Steve is reckless when he's upset. "None of you even noticed I was packing. Nancy fucking helped me put a box in yesterday."

Just then, both your heads turn at the sound of a car approaching--and just in time, you realize it's Eddie, his van's tires crunching the gravel of the long driveway as he pulls up to a stop beside your car. And lo and behold, sitting in the front seat with a smile on her face is her. Chrissy waves to you through the window, and as if your heart isn't in the process of shattering into shards that dig into your lungs, you raise your hand to acknowledge her back. You turn back to look at Steve one last time. Memorizing his face, because you know you won't ever see him again, as you take a few steps backward and hand him your parting words.

"Don't break her heart, Steve. It sucks."

With that, and with nothing but confliction reflecting back at you on his face, you turn on your heels and make your way around your car, bidding Eddie and Chrissy a stiff goodbye as they get out of the van and you get into your car. You reverse, roll back out of the driveway, and shift gears to start puttering down the road. And as soon as the house is out of your rearview mirror, that's when you feel those tears spilling out that won't stop until well after you pass the Leaving Hawkins sign on the side of the road.

A week into your new start in the city, you haven't gotten any more closure than when you left.

Living with your aunt isn't great, but it's something. The apartment is small, and you still haven't found a new job--you did call the Palace to inform them that you were quitting, though, to which you were greeted with nothing but indifference as you left a message on the answering machine. Figures that nobody in that town would miss me, you think, but you can't dwell on it for too long, because then you'll start thinking of them and it'll have you sobbing into your pillow again. Even worse is that you can't even fully express your pain to your family, your aunt, anybody--because they'll all think you're a freak, and it won't be surprising that your "relationship" ended so badly. You don't even really speak to your parents or your family in the first place, so you can't expect them to show you any sympathy. In fact, if they said anything to you, it would probably be that you should be glad it's over so you can live a normal life.

You don't want normal. You want your Robin talking your ear off about something gross for hours, you want Eddie burping into your ear and laughing, you want Nancy falling asleep on top of you and drooling on your chest, and Steve--you want Steve to come over while you're both on your breaks, talking with his mouth full and stealing bits of your lunch while kissing you in between each bite. You want that love back, you want it so badly it hurts, it hurts your heart every time something reminds you of them.

Maybe that's the worst part. That they don't want that anymore, they want someone that can share those memories with of that terrible tragedy, who knows how they feel and relates to those nightmares that wake them up in a cold sweat, who they can compare scars with and laugh with now that it's all over. They want someone scarred but beautiful, someone perfect, and you can never be that way no matter how hard you try. It explains why you haven't gotten a single phone call, or a letter, or anything since you left, and that treatment extends into your second week in Indy and right into the third. But it doesn't get any less painful, even when you get a job at a convenience store around the corner to busy yourself and help with the rent. Nor when you try going on a date or two, just to spend the whole dinner staring off into space as they talk and wondering what the people you loved are doing right now.

While you're behind the counter at work, your thoughts often drift back to that house by Maple Drive. The path around the back that leads into the woods, where Eddie would take you out for a smoke and to watch the stars for awhile--always with a walkie on hand, just in case, as Steve used to say. The pool that often sits empty, and sometimes you'd look out the window to see Nancy lifting up the cover on it to peek underneath, before breathing a visible sigh of relief and briskly walking away. Sometimes even in the middle of the night, creeping out the sliding glass door in her pajamas. And you remember that bed you often shared with Robin, who gets so clingy when she sleeps....and you wonder if she's sharing it with Chrissy now, if the cheerleader you always thought was such a nice girl is occupying the spot you thought would be yours forever.

Your brow furrows as you stock Camels on the shelf behind the counter, sliding each one into the perfect spot but feeling an itch of irritation when they don't line up. Is Eddie holding her right now? Is he coming up behind her every morning, and nuzzling his nose into her cheek as she stirs milk into her coffee? Is Nancy cuddling her and chatting her up about whatever project she has going on right now? Is Steve picking up her bag, and insisting she let her boyfriend hold the heavy stuff while she sits and looks pretty? They probably are. And they're probably much happier doing it with her, than they ever were with you.

Something thuds on the counter behind you, and you sigh without a sound as the gruff voice at your back asks for a pack while you're at it. Your fist squeezes around the box you've got in hand, and when you turn on your heels to toss it on to the tabletop and reach for the scanner, your eyes widen, and so do the ones on the moustached man that's towering in front of you with a petite woman at his side.

"Hop?"

You breathe out the name, trying to regain yourself as quick as you can--you're pretty used to keeping your tears back now, adjusted to having a straight face so nobody will pry or prod for your feelings. The former sheriff of your hometown that you used to duck out of sight from, laughing and hiding your goods with Eddie right behind you, is standing at your counter with a shocked expression, along with Joyce Byers who seems just as surprised to see you here. And with little else you can think of, you clear your throat and try to crack that tense silence.

"Uh...so, you two on vacation, or someth-"

"Are you fucking with me?"

Hopper cuts you off, hands bracing the edge of the counter as he looks you up and down, the two glass bottles of Coke getting shoved aside by him to fall over and roll across the counter as he reaches across the barrier to grab your arm. Without much struggle, because you have no clue what's going on, you allow the older man to yank your wrist up and turn it over, Joyce hurriedly pushing up your sleeve with her gaze pinned to your skin, like she's desperately searching for something that has nothing to do with your confused questions spilling out on top of each other.

When they've finally uncovered that patch of skin they were looking for, the two of them share a look between themselves, before finally looking back up to acknowledge how baffled and worried you are. It isn't until you scan down to see what they found that the pieces start coming together, the black ink of the tattoo Eddie gave you when you first started dating peeking out at you. It's just a thin, mid-sized black circle on your inner forearm, with five points reaching outward like a sun. But the detail of it has always enchanted you, Eddie's diligent stare as he inked it into your skin burned into your mind. You've considered getting it covered since then, but....you can't bring yourself to do it yet.

"I'll call it in," Hopper says cryptically, stepping back and turning away to bring out the walkie from his belt and start mumbling into it. In the meanwhile, you're left with his partner, and the lady you've practically grown up with since she babysat you a long time ago. You often forget that time, when you and Jonathan would run around her backyard with sticks and rocks to try and build your own castle, while his baby brother watched from the stairs and giggled at your antics. You were so young, and so carefree, it seemed....but it was a happy time, one of few before you met those four.

"Honey, you're alright?" Joyce's voice quivers, anxious for the answer, but you nod as soon as her question registers because you hate to see her like this.

"Ye...Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She circles round the counter, coming right in for a hug that you return without question. The squeeze is tight, like a mother's embrace upon returning home from a long time away, and you instantly feel a pinch of guilt for neglecting to include her in your plan to leave Hawkins. Now that you think about it, you really didn't tell anyone, except....

"-Kid, relax, we're coming there. No, do not get in your car, sit your ass down so you're there when we get back! Jesus," Hop gets more animated as he talks over the channel, and your hug splits as your head swivels towards the sound of a familiar voice through the static. Steve.

"Are they there? Let me talk to them! Please, Hopper, let me hear their voice-"

It's so frantic, desperate. The first time you've heard one of their voices in what feels like your whole life, and you have to struggle not to cave, bringing a shaky hand up over your mouth as you whisper a "What's going on?" to Joyce. And with your ears perked up, you can distinguish the background noise in the transmission--there are three other distinct voices, talking just as fearfully amongst themselves as they also try to get through to Hop. Nancy, Eddie, and Robin, each with as much indignation as Steve, who must be holding the other walkie.

"We're coming down right now, kid. Just try to calm down in the meantime." With that, Hopper shuts the antenna and gestures for you to follow him, the sweet woman at your side holding your arm as you obey him, like she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. You're led out of the light of the fluorescent bulbs overhead to Hop's truck parked by the curb--you at least have the sense to fumble with your keys and lock the front door before you leave--you let him open the door and sit yourself in the backseat, and shakily buckle yourself in as they get in front with promises to explain everything. Still struck dumb with shock to the point that it hasn't really registered that you just left work in the middle of your shift.

But you get an idea of what's happening when you turn your head, and catch a glimpse of a scattered stack of papers on the seat beside you out of your peripheral. Tentatively, as Hop starts up the ignition, your fingers brush over one of the nearest pages--and when you lift it up to survey it closer, the two of them notice you and share another sobering look between them. What's staring back at you is undeniably, unmistakably, a missing person's ad. And the picture is one you recognize immediately, because it's yours. Your photo, details of your last sighting, a description of your tattoo, a list of things for people to look out for....

"You really worried everyone back home, kid."

Suddenly, a bitterness rises up inside you, and the paper crumples slightly as you realize what's really happening. "I'm fine. I just...decided to get out of Hawkins."

"Yeah, well, maybe tell your roommates that, first."

"Hop-"

"They didn't care! I told Steve anyways, so what's the big fucking deal?" Even though Joyce flinches at you raising your voice, you can't be quiet right now. Anger is something you've been almost too numb to endure these last few weeks, but now you could just put your fist straight through Hopper's window--they put up such a fuss for what? To drag you back to that shitty inbred town in the sticks, just to make sure they didn't want you in the first place? It's bullshit.

"They sure as shit care!" Hop shouts right back, casting his signature scowl over his shoulder as he drives through semi-empty streets. It's so late, and so dark, it's unlikely there'll even be many pedestrians. "Do you realize how many times Nancy Wheeler has shown up on my doorstep, begging me to go on another search and rescue for you?! They're worried sick!"

"Why?"

There's silence for awhile, very tense silence, before you repeat your question that says much more than just that one word.

"....Because they thought you were gone. They thought you were there."

There. That's what he means--the other world, the Upside Down. The place you've never seen, only heard horror stories about and snatches of descriptions of when you comforted one of them during a night terror. The missing people, the murders, the experiments....they're all so hard to believe, but then again, you can't deny Will's remarkable return from the dead or Barbara Holland's coverup death, both of which you've been close enough to to know that there's no way they're just elaborate lies.

So they were worried you had died. That your disappearance wasn't of your own volition. They're going to be in for an unfortunate surprise, but by the tightly shut locks on Hopper's truck doors, you know there's no getting out of this until he brings you right back to drop you in their laps.

"We came here to look for you. Your mom finally told us you had an aunt in the city." Joyce offers you another piece to the puzzle, but your mind is still stuck on the fact that your ex-partners seemed so desperate over the walkie. They....they wouldn't want you to die, but that doesn't mean they want you. Figures that your parents would make it more difficult for two of the only people that even remotely have any concern for you too, they're probably profiting off all that glorious attention of having a missing child.

"I have a life here, now. I don't want to go back." Lies. You know it's all lies.

"Listen, kid, whatever happened with your friends, I promise it's not worth throwing in the towel. You've gotta see things through." Clearly it's not worth an argument, you'd rather save your energy at this point. You're gonna need plenty to face that hard conversation you know is coming, when you're gonna have to confirm to them directly that you're moving on. No more running away, or hiding from the problem. You have to face it.

"You don't know anything about me, or them."

The already long drive drags on even longer in the silence that follows, and you make a mental note to call your aunt when they get you back to Hawkins, so she doesn't freak out when she comes home to an empty apartment. You can imagine your manager's gonna call and cuss you out before firing you for leaving the store unattended, too, and you groan and let your head hit the seat behind you. Now you're gonna have to find another job, gonna have to explain to your aunt what you did....or maybe she won't even notice your absence, not until someone makes a fuss about it.

Your mind is left racing with so many thoughts and worries that the scenery passes by without note, the moon barely shining any light on the landscape, like it's all one huge plain with little dots for buildings and trees. Like one big hellscape, but it's numb and frozen over with nothing left but a mocking echo of the world that's no longer here. You don't even really recognize your surroundings until a couple hours have passed, and the Welcome To Hawkins sign zips by and has you sitting up in your seat. Just as you pass it, though, you think you see the glimmer of another set of headlights, a rarity on these quiet streets--and then your whole world shifts violently.

"Shit!" Hop curses as he swerves suddenly, and Joyce shrieks as you all nearly careen off the road and into the ditch, your head cracking against the window and bouncing off for you to clutch at it in pain. A groan is all you can get out when he calls back to you, the dizzy feeling making you a little sick, but as you lift your head and the truck rolls to a stop, you spot the culprit of that downright suicidal speed driving that nearly caused a head-on collision.

Your heart is pierced with a deep chill immediately. You'd recognize that van anywhere, and that curly mane of hair as the driver stumbles out his door even moreso. He's not hurt, just dazed--and for the moment, your brain doesn't immediately go to the question of why you should even care. As he stands there in the road, in the dark, Eddie's form is lit up by the headlights still shining without a flicker, but he doesn't flinch even when it must be glaring directly into his eyes, just holds a hand up to block it out. And when they meet yours as you lean over the console to see him, he doesn't wait a second, hurrying around the passenger's side of the truck to fumble for the handle of your door. With a click, and the light above you switching on as a beeping starts to emit from the vehicle, Eddie's suddenly cramming himself into the backseat with you--and there's tears already wetting his cheeks as he grabs you in a hug, gasping in a shaky lungful of breath like he's shocked he's really touching you. Crying and mumbling into your hair, Eddie buckles when you squeeze him back, falling victim to that desire in the deepest part of your soul that just wanted to hold him again.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it baby, I didn't--everything I said, I swear, I was being such a fucking moron-" He starts babbling from nowhere, and his voice itself is a comfort, having not heard it next to your ear for so long that it aches now.

"Eddie-"

"You're mine, okay?! You're my everything!" He cries, burying his face even deeper into your neck and inhaling whatever scent he can get. You're stunned into staying limp, letting his hands grab and squeeze at you wherever they land--his curly hair tickles your cheek and sticks to it, and that sensation alone drags tears up to the surface, only allowing them to spill when you hear him whispering those croaked pleas of "I love you, I love you, I love you" until you're crying right along with him. It's been so long since you heard it, you'd started believing it was never really true.

It takes minutes that feel like hours for you to both calm down enough to look at each other, your face cradled in Eddie's rough hands as he sniffles and murmurs a "You're so beautiful" so innocently sincere, that it instantly makes you wish you had never left. He smiles, and the world that seems so dark grows a little brighter around you. You're not even privy to the looks Joyce and Hopper are giving each other in the front seat, clearly a little surprised at the passion you two share that nobody else has ever seen. But they know. And when Eddie starts pulling you out of your seat with the promise to take you back, Hop only reminds him to drive safely before he allows you two to shut the truck's door and circle round the vehicle with Eddie's arm clinging to your waist. The air hits you, cool and dry, just like it always is in Hawkins. And when he opens your door for you and waits for you to clamber in, before getting in on the other side and fumbling contently with his keys, you're not sure you really know what to expect. He briefly elaborates that he'd gotten worried, and that he's just glad he spotted Hop's truck before he'd sped all the way out of Hawkins and missed you--but it doesn't last, because soon he's grabbing your thigh and sighing out a breath of relief.

"We'll talk about everything when we get home. For now, I just want to hold you." Eddie offers his hand to you, giving it a grateful squeeze when you slip yours into it and interlace your fingers together.

They'll all hate me for real, this time.

That's exactly how the drive goes, Eddie's shoulders relaxed even as he steers with one hand, and navigates while stealing glances over at you with relief written all over his face, and brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles every so often. But he's just one. The other three....your heart sinks as you run over that last conversation you had with Steve, the way you'd ignored Robin completely, and how you pretended everything was absolutely fine with Nancy up until the moment you left. And it somehow dawns on you only then--they thought you were gone, that you had been taken to the Upside Down, and your heart sinks as you watch the trees pass by in clusters while that dread creeps closer down the road that's so familiar.

Not even the comforting warmth of Eddie's hand could drive that thought out of your mind, even less so when he turns and you hit that patch of gravel that leads up the driveway. He'll stop soon, and you'll be facing the music....and when Eddie shifts into park, you sort of float from your seat to the walkway where you threw your feelings back into Steve's face, and up towards the front door that Eddie opens for you before you cross the threshold into the house. It does feel like home, and you don't want to lose it right on the welcome mat, so you blink away any tears that threaten to spill before you quietly follow him into the living room.

Three heads turn to look your way, too inundated in conversation around the coffee table to hear the door opening, but that stops the second their eyes land on you. Steve and Robin are the ones sitting closest to where you stand, but Nancy's the one that makes her way to you first, her lower lip already quivering enough to break into a sob as she crosses the patch of carpet to throw her arms around you. She's strong enough to grip you tight enough to hurt, but too weak to keep herself on her feet, and you end up sinking to the floor with her as your name floods out of her lungs on repeat, getting louder and louder and louder until she's wailing. You could swear the walls rattle with the volume she cries at, completely coming apart in your arms like you've never seen her do before.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She shouts, yet her voice is like a child's, wobbling and whiny and so miserably pitiful that it pains you even to listen to it, especially when she's clutching you so close to her body--so afraid that you won't be there when she pulls away, so she refuses to. You don't have any right to cry when she's so distraught, but with your head over her shoulder, the other two watch your lips curve downwards and your eyes screw shut into a flood of tears that won't stop easily.

"I'm sorry, Nancy. I'm okay." You whimper, burying your face into her curls until your lips brush her jawline, and she shudders into each gentle, praiseworthy kiss that you press there. Up until her sobs subside, and she breaths a sigh of relief that you can feel from her chest against yours, each one sinking and rising into each other as you breathe along with her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore."

She shakes her head, and finally pulls herself back to look at you, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks when she gets a good look at you. Nancy touches your face, thumbs away your own tears--and you know she's not just looking at you, but the girl she lost so long ago, whose smile she sees in yours on those days she misses her the most dearly. "I never wanted you more when I thought you weren't coming back," She whispers back. "How could I not want you? I love you."

The kiss she lays upon your lips is breathtaking, shaking and sweet and just....everything. Everything you missed and craved like air and water and life.

You're already halfway into her embrace when she laughs out that half-hearted joke, walking back with you a couple steps when you throw yourself into it. And she squeezes you so tight, so hard, the kisses a flurry of needy, fluttering touches all over your face until she somehow finds your lips--and when she does, she makes that last one a kiss you won't shake off for days, the feeling tingling your lips even when she pulls away. Still rubbing that spot on your back that she knows is sensitive, Robin grips you in an even harder hug that nearly cracks your spine, and whispers into your ear: "I'm so happy you're here with me." before she kisses you one last time, last one, she swears, fingers crossed behind your back. But then, she takes notice to the man standing just a foot away--and she lets you go to turn you around, her fingertips grazing your arms as you finally face him.

"Yeah, she, uh....she cried, like, every night," Even as Robin says it and breaks the quiet, she herself is rubbing tears from her cheeks, trying to keep that smile going as you stand and Nancy loosens her hold. She moves aside for Eddie to lay his hands on her shoulders from behind, and keep her steady on her feet. "So did Steve. I told you he cries when we watch Princess Bride!"

"I-I....I didn't mean it, Steve. I never...I've never thought you were dumb." Your voice comes out as a whimper, fingers fiddling with each other as you endure that big, brown, wide-eyed stare.

"I know." He breathes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wants to move, he's antsy, but he won't take another step. "I know, baby."

"Can I hug you?" Steve just nods, but his lip quivers and his features gain that pathetic, sad puppy look, because he was hoping and praying you would say those very words. Your heart soars as he meets your step forward and flings his strong arms tight around your body, crushing you with his huge stature but never loosening up. He instantly brings his hand up to cradle your head against his chest, kissing the crown of it with so much firmness that you know he's reaffirming you're really standing in front of him again.

"I shouldn't have let you leave. I should've slashed your damn tires." He chuckles along with you at the lighthearted crack at breaking the tension, until he chokes up again into a sob. "Nobody could ever replace you. And I swear, I'll never break your heart again."

Steve holds you for a long time, squeezing you and kissing you and brushing strands of hair from your eyes to just look at you, surveying the face of the love he feared he'd never get to cherish again. It's a long time coming, and when he's done, there are three other warm bodies in the room that need attention from the sweet thing they've been killing themselves over these last few weeks.

From there, they catch you up with what had happened in your absence. Steve had walked off to clear his head after you left, and hadn't returned until late in the day--burst through the front door during an unusually quiet dinner and sent them all into a panic, when he realized you really had left and you weren't coming back. The four of them had jumped into action to split up and look for you, Nancy contacted your parents and other family while Steve and Robin tried to find some hint of your whereabouts in the house, cracking open your drawers and notes and realizing how much of your stuff was missing. Meanwhile, Eddie had driven in circles round Hawkins and the outer city limits, trying to find any trace of your car in the dark with the help of passing streetlights.

When those attempts had failed after stretching out into the next day to mid-afternoon, and with your very unhelpful parents insisting they had no idea where you could've gone, that's when your partners had started printing out missing person's flyers and put in an official report with the sheriff's office. And, seemingly having forgotten that you were really the only one who ever checked the voicemail at work, your message tendering your resignation had been errantly erased by your manager--worrying them even further when they questioned him, because if you were really planning on moving away like you said, how could you not tell your employer? It wasn't like you. Their fears had only gotten stronger from there.

The worst had yet to come, though. Because when your car had been found on the side of the road way out in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from Hawkins and completely destroyed, the four of them had reached the point of no return. The plates had been torn off, but it was your exact make and model of car, and what were they supposed to believe? That it was just coincidence? That's what Hopper had tried to reassure them with, tried to insist that plenty of cars get found gutted out in the bush, but they couldn't be convinced that it was just some freak happenstance and delude themselves to think that you were fine and dandy somewhere else. The same thing had happened to Max's stepbrother, and they all knew how that had ended.

So started the search parties, the nights spent staying up and studying maps by lamplight, the microwave meals in place of home cooking and sleeping in shifts by the phone, waiting and hoping for some kind of clue to your whereabouts to appear. Finding you had become more important than eating, proper sleep, showering, or attention paid to anything aside from looking towards the horizon to see if you would magically walk back into their lives.

And all that time, you had believed nothing but that they couldn't care less where you were, or what you were doing. When in reality, they could think of nothing but you. That was what had led Eddie to nearly crash into you as you re-entered Hawkins, having been pacing the living room for those long hours after Hop's call until he just couldn't take it anymore--despite the other three trying to stop him, he had dashed out to his van and peeled out of the driveway like a lunatic, just for the slightest chance that he might be there when you needed help. It was so stupid, so reckless, and you'll remember that moment he came rushing around the side of the truck to get to you forever.

Despite them reassuring you about Chrissy, too, when the tears have dried--promising you she's nothing but a friend, and they would have no problems limiting her interaction with all of you from now on--you wave it away, smiling off your stupidity and letting them know that it's fine. You were just being dumb, acting crazy, but you're fine now. And Eddie's eyes narrow at that.

"You're not crazy." He murmurs absentmindedly, and says nothing more until he can slip away from your reunion, and reach the phone in the kitchen. While you're busy dealing with your other partner's crippling absence of affection, he taps his blunt nails into each button, numbly dialing the number he's memorized until the ringing starts and stops.

"Hey, Chris. Angel's back home."

"Oh, that's great! Oh...Eddie, I'm so happy for you. You must be relieved-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, no hard feelings, but....you're my friend, so I'm just gonna be straight. Don't come by the house anymore."

"I--what? Really? I....Eddie, I'm sorry, if I did something to upset you-"

"No, no, nothing you did. Well, not really. But I know how you feel, Chris, and I can't really ignore it anymore." He swallows deeply, and sucks on his teeth as he tries to think of some better way to say it. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel the same. I never have, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like that might change."

"......So that's it?"

"That's it. We can still be friends, but we need space for awhile first, and I'm not gonna ignore you flirting with me anymore. I'm in love and it's not gonna change. Sorry."

"Can we at least talk about it, Eddie? Please? I'd rather talk this out in person."

"No. Bye, Chrissy."

He thuds the phone back on the receiver just a little too hard, and brings his hand up to rub at his neck and try and get the ache out. That didn't feel good, having to confront one of his very few friends with a truth he just wanted to ignore--but the sick feeling he has now can't even compare to how he felt when you were away, and it's an easy decision to make in that regard. He'd take you over her any day. It's a bit of a guilty feeling, but he knows it's the truth even if it hurts Chrissy's feelings, and he's happy even so.

"....Yeah, I missed you real bad, sweetheart. Don't you ever think I wouldn't....or else you are crazy."

"Eddie?" You call out from the living room, and following that sweet voice to its source, he feels himself light up at the sight of you settled back into the couch. Legs tucked up in Robin's lap, halfway into Steve and Nancy's, looking so comfortable and cute as you look up at him. You're where you belong. He's so distracted by the glee and relief of having you home, he didn't even realize how quiet it had been between you all until he came right back from his task. You say nothing more, just hold your arms out to him--and when he gets close enough, you capture him with those pretty eyes of yours, and melt away any ill feeling as you pull him into your chest.

#fruity four #fruity four x reader #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #eddie munson x reader #robin buckley x reader #jim hopper #joyce byers #st 4 #stranger things #eddie's angelface #ellie writes #anons

[odetokeons]

i love the tough, grumpy, intimidating, big guy and the small, but incredibly powerful and badass kid they reluctantly adopted cinematic universe

#the best fictional trope fr #my favourite father-daughter duos #jim hopper #eleven #eleven hopper #stranger things #the hound #sandor clegane #arya stark #game of thrones #logan wolverine #laura #x-23 #logan (2017) #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #hbo the last of us #hbo tlou #tlou series #tlou show #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo

[usernoneexistent]

Magical Milestone Outfits 2023 Part 2

Second set of outfits from July to December and realised how much more autumn and winter colours I used here for the background. Here I definitely started experimenting more with brushes to get certain texture. I want to thank everyone again for their wonderful OCs and the chance to get to draw them.

Starting from top left; My own Juniper Moss, Julian Bennett @slytherindisaster, Wendy Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch, Indigo Silverwood @indigobackfire, Ellie Hopper @thatravenpuffwitch and Madeline Orionswan @madelineorionswan

#mmo23 #magical milestone outfit #hogwarts mystery #part 2 #this is has been so fun to draw everyone #juniper moss #julian bennett #gwendolyn gordon #indigo silverwood #ellie hopper #madeline orionswan

[thatravenpuffwitch]

Psycho Killer (Anything’s Possible)

A/N: This was written for the @hp-12monthsofmagic January theme: Anything’s Possible (if you’ve got enough nerve). Warnings: Sirius Black slander (I’m sorry but everyone thinks he’s a murderer 😩)

July 1995 — Auror Office, Ministry of Magic

“You two have a lot of nerve thinking you can just ask Shacklebot to put a couple of Junior Aurors on the Black case.”

“Shut it, Dawlish,” snapped Tonks.

Ellie gently elbowed her pink-haired friend in the ribs and smiled politely at Dawlish.

“Is Auror Shacklebolt in, then? We have some theories and strategies we’d like to present to him,” she said in her most professional voice.

John Dawlish was the worst example of an Auror in the Ministry’s pocket and ending up on his bad side was the last thing Ellie needed right now.

During Fudge’s post-Tri-Wizard Tournament briefing, the Minister had informed them that Barty Crouch jr. was likely working as a “lone wolf” and that there was “no cause for alarm”. Regardless, it had been all hands on deck for the Auror Office. Ellie had spent the last week either being sent on wild goose chases around the countryside or stuck at her desk buried under a mountain of paperwork. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

Ellie had promised her grandad that she would keep her head down and pretend to disbelieve Dumbledore, but with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s most devoted follower still at large she had to do something useful.

“Listen, I’m not saying I think you’re incompetent,” sneered Dawlish, completely ignoring her question. “But the fact is that you are inexperienced, and if we’re going to capture Black we need seasoned Aurors working on this investigation. Shacklebot is the best we’ve got and if he says Sirius Black is in Tibet then Sirius Black is in Tibet.”

“I know. But the Black investigation has stalled, surely you can see that, and Tonks and I have reason to believe that he may be in the country at this very moment.”

“And what makes you think that?” Auror Dawlish smiled sardonically.

“We would be happy to share our research with you after we’ve been put on the case,” Ellie replied cooly.

A long exasperated sigh came from the cubicle next to Dawlish as Marlow Sinclair stood up from her desk. Auror Sinclair was a dark-haired woman in her 40s and one of the only other female Aurors employed by the ministry.

“Give Holmes and Watson here a chance, John,” she said. “Shacklebolt’s in his office. Good luck.”

“Who and who!?” Dawlish asked Sinclair loudly.

Ellie followed Tonks who walked determinedly toward Kingsley’s office, barged right in without knocking, and dumped their plans across his desk.

“What exactly are these?” said Kingsley in his low voice, glancing between them, seemingly unfazed by their dramatic entrance.

“These,” said Ellie as she straightened the maps and papers on Kingsley’s desk so he could properly see them, “are how we capture Sirius Black.”

Just as they had rehearsed, Ellie and Tonks launched into an explanation of their plans, speaking quickly for several minutes until Kingsley held up a hand to stop them.

“This is good work. Excellent, really. But there is a question I must ask you both.”

“Go ahead, sir,” Tonks said.

“Do you believe Albus Dumbledore when he says that You-Know-Who has returned?”

Ellie felt her heartbeat speed up, but she kept her face neutral as she quickly weighed her options. She had known Kingsley all her life and was basically his protégé. He was a smart man and Ellie couldn’t picture him actually buying into Fudge’s garbage. But he was also highly respected in the Ministry and as their boss, could still sack them if he felt he needed. Then she thought about her grandad’s warning: “Don’t make trouble for yourself. Any Auror not following the herd will be out.”

“Of course not,” Ellie said evenly.

“Absolutely not,” Tonks echoed her sentiment.

“Well done, both of you. That was very convincing,” Kingsley said with a casual smile. He got up from his desk and wordlessly waved his wand at the door behind them.

“It’s the truth,” Tonks said, subconsciously placing her hand on her wand.

Ellie said nothing. Was this some sort of test? Reluctantly, she reached out with her Legilimency and gently brushed Kingsley’s mind. She felt no hostility, only Kingsley’s usual calm mixed with something that felt like amusement.

“I’ve been talking to Alastor Moody,” he said with a nod to Tonks before settling his brown eyes on Ellie. “And to Lugh Hopper, just last night before he left for Nepal with your brother.”

“My grandad? But I was with him last night,” Ellie blinked in surprise. She had so many questions.

“In fact, he called me just minutes after you left the pub. I hope you don’t mind I finished your nachos,” he chuckled. “We met with Professor Dumbledore shortly after. We know that you want to fight outside of the restraints of the Ministry, so myself, Lugh, and Mad-Eye have recommended you.”

Ellie let out a breath. Everything was about to change.

“On behalf of Albus Dumbledore, I would like to offer you both a place with the Order of the Phoenix,” he smiled proudly. “Oh and about Sirius Black… there’s something you should probably know.”

#hp12mom #ellie hopper #nymphadora tonks #kingsley shacklebolt #hphm #golden era fic #my writing

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 8: The Capture

A/N: Artemis attempts to gain two separate victories, but instead manages to find something else entirely… Ellie Hopper belongs to @thatravenpuffwitch and David Willows and Amelia Booth to @that-scouse-wizard. Warnings: Ableism and poor sportsmanship.

The Halloween Feast had been just as much fun as Artemis had expected, and she was grateful to Merula for persuading her to go. She was even more grateful the next morning, when Merula approached her at the Hufflepuff table over breakfast and promised to keep an eye on Victor Ketsueki’s mysterious extracurricular activities for her.

“Really?” said Penny, with a sigh. “Honestly, Artemis. I really don’t believe that Victor is the thief.”

“And I really believe that he is.”

“That’s only because you don’t like him. Why would he even steal all those things?”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s to pay for all his stupid new clothes,” Artemis suggested.

“But Jae said half of the things weren’t even that valuable. You know what they all were, though?”

“Shiny?”

“Reflective,” Penny corrected her. “Which means that it wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever for Victor to take them, because vampires don’t even have a reflection.”

Artemis sighed. There was no point in arguing. At least this month there would be a good distraction from the search for the thief and the endless N.E.W.T. preparation: along with the dark nights, cold winds, and morning frosts, November brought with it the first two matches of the Quidditch season. 

The first match saw Andre Egwu’s debut as Ravenclaw Captain, and his team’s defeat by Gryffindor. The following weekend marked the Hufflepuff’s first game, in which they were up against Slytherin.

“Last week’s match was a relatively close run thing, which means that although Gryffindor is in the lead, it is only by a small margin,” said Murphy, as the team gathered in the changing tents before the start of the match. “Now, I’ve been hearing the odd rumour about the Slytherin team’s strategy this year-”

“Penny told me that they’re planning on cheating!”

“There are only so many fouls they will be able to get away with,” Murphy said. “Keep level heads, work steadily on getting that points advantage, and the match should be ours.”

“Will be ours,” said Tonks, a confidence in her voice that didn’t quite match the white knuckles that gripped her Beater’s bat.

“Well, we can’t know that for sure. There are no certainties in Quidditch, after all. But you’re a strong team, and our strategies are sound. I’d say that the probability of our success is fair to good.”

“Thanks, Murph. Great pep talk.”

Murphy beamed at the compliment, and led the team out onto the pitch, where the whole school had gathered to watch the match. Up in the commentary box, a second year Gryffindor boy had taken over Murphy’s former role, and Artemis saw Murphy’s eyes flicker upwards as the boy began to speak.

“And here comes the Hufflepuff team, captained by Murphy McNully, who taught me everything I know. The Hufflepuffs actually have the greatest ratio of female to male players, with Beater David Willows being the only wizard on the team. A very lucky bloke, if you ask me. I’m sure that he’s been having the time of his life in those changing tents…”

“Jordan,” a second voice, which Artemis recognised as that of Professor McGonagall, growled into the microphone.

“Sorry, Professor. What I meant to say is that I’m sure David Willows has been behaving like a perfect gentleman, and that this respectful behaviour is bound to carry through onto the pitch,” the new commentator said quickly. “Whether the same thing can be said for the Slytherin players remains to be seen. New Captain Marcus Flint has put together a rather formidable side, but I have been reliably informed by one of the final year girls - I didn’t catch her name, but she was very pretty, blonde, great-”

“Jordan!”

“- personality, Professor McGonagall. I don’t know what you thought I was going to say there. So, my charming seventh year friend told me that someone else told… Anyway, rumour has it that Slytherin’s Bakari Nyoka has quit the team after a disagreement with Flint over some of his more unorthodox strategies for the game. Whether Flint has anything dodgy up his sleeve, and whether new Seeker Terence Higgs will go along with his shady schemes… Wait, what was that, Professor?” There was a dry whisper through the microphone, before Jordan sighed audibly and added, “Professor Snape has asked me to point out that these comments are merely - what was the word? - conjecture, and that there is no evidence to suggest that the Slytherin Captain intends to engage in any form of foul play. Okay, but I’m just saying what I’ve heard, Professor. What now?”

As Jordan continued to have a hushed argument with Professor Snape in the commentary box, both the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams lined up in the centre of the pitch. Murphy wheeled over to shake hands with Flint, the Slytherin Captain, who made a point of bending down to reach him, a patronising smirk on his face. Behind him, a couple of the other players sniggered. Artemis glared at all of them, especially the Seeker, Higgs. 

“I’m going to catch the Snitch from right under his big, ugly nose,” she murmured to Tonks. 

“I’ll throw my bat at him,” Tonks concurred, already brandishing the Beater’s bat. 

“Isn’t that a foul?”

“Dont know, don’t care.”

The two of them, along with the rest of the players, rose into the air, high above Madam Hooch and Murphy, who remained in the centre of the below. Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth, and took hold of the Quaffle in her hands. With the blow of the whistle and an upwards throw of the Quaffle, the game began.

“Look at them go!” Jordan shouted. “Hufflepuff’s Ellie Hopper takes possession of the Quaffle, dodges a near-tackle, passes to Beatrice Haywood. Haywood takes the Quaffle towards the Slytherin goalposts - oh, that was close - and she passes to Cordelia Costa. Ooh, tough luck, Hufflepuff! Pass intercepted by Flint; Slytherin now in possession.”

The Slytherin Captain passed the Quaffle to one of his fellow Chasers, who carried the ball towards the Hufflepuff goalposts, flanked by Flint and the third Slytherin Chaser. She kept hold of the Quaffle, not passing to either of her teammates, and therefore not giving the Hufflepuff Chasers a chance to intercept. Ellie Hopper flew beneath the group as Bea Haywood attempted to fly into their formation, clearly looking to knock the Quaffle out of the Slytherin Chaser’s hands for Ellie to catch, but she was elbowed out of the way so hard that she was almost knocked off her broom. 

As the Slytherins approached the scoring zone, Flint suddenly accelerated towards the goalposts, where Amelia Booth was guarding the three hoops. Her eyes widened as he flew straight at her, and seconds later, he had collided with her, knocking her clear out of the way of the goal as the Chaser with the Quaffle took aim. With no Keeper to stop it, the Quaffle flew through one of the empty hoops, and a roar of applause rang out from the Slytherin stands.

But above the din of the spectators came a sharp whistle. On the ground, Madam Hooch was calling to the Slytherin Chasers and Amelia, beckoning them down to the ground to talk to her. Keeping one eye out for the Snitch, Artemis flew lower so that she could hear what was being said.

“I didn’t know it was a foul, Madam Hooch,” Flint was telling the umpire. “That’s how my family always used to play.”

Madam Hooch pursed her lips. “Stooging has been a foul for a long time-”

“Since 1888,” Murphy interjected.

“- a fact which you, as team Captain, should be well aware of,” continued Madam Hooch. Flint opened his mouth to argue and she held up a hand to stop him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the excessive use of elbows on Miss Haywood, either. I know that you know cobbing is a foul, Flint, I’ve penalised you enough for it over the last two years.”

“It’s not my fault she got in the way of my elbows…”

Madam Hooch blew her whistle again, drowning out the Slytherins’ protests, and the players took to the sky once more.

“Slytherin score, but because the goal was the result of a foul, it is disallowed,” Jordan announced. “Hufflepuff is awarded two free penalties, one for the foul of Keeper Amelia Booth, and one for the foul of Beatrice Haywood.”

Bea and Cordelia lined up to take their penalties, and though the Slytherin Keeper saved the shot that Bea aimed at the goal, the Quaffle soared past his outstretched fingers after it left Cordelia’s hands and went straight through the hoop behind him.

“Costa scores!” shouted Jordan, over the applause from the Hufflepuff stands. “After all that, the score is ten points to Hufflepuff, nil to Slytherin!”

Artemis took both her hands off her broomstick to clap, but quickly replaced them as a Bludger soared past her, the turbulence it caused in the air buffeting her sideways. She frowned, looking in the direction from which the Bludger had come. The Quaffle was not back in play yet, which meant that the Beaters should not have been aiming Bludgers at other players. 

It seemed that once again, however, the Slytherins were not playing by the rules. Behind her, one of their Beaters still had his bat raised, a hard expression on his face. But it was not Artemis that his glare and his Bludger were aimed at: it was Cordelia. Artemis’ mouth dropped open.

“Cordelia, look out!”

It was too late; the Bludger that had just flown past Artemis continued its trajectory, soaring through the sky towards Cordelia Costa, who was facing the other way. The Bludger hit her over her hip, and the force with which it did so sent her lurching forward and to the side, and off her broomstick. She fell downwards, slowing magically as Madam Hooch put down the Quaffle to cast a spell. 

Artemis turned back again to look at the Beater who had aimed the Bludger at Cordelia, but he had already lowered his bat and was looking the other way.

“Ouch! A rogue Bludger makes contact with Costa, knocking her off her broom and out of the game! What a rollercoaster this game is turning out to be!”

“What’s a rollercoaster?” Tonks asked Artemis, flying to her side.

“No idea,” replied Artemis, “but that wasn’t a rogue Bludger, it was that Beater hitting it at her!”

Tonks’ yellow eyebrows furrowed. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“We need to tell Madam Hooch.”

But with Artemis as the only witness, and the Slytherin Beater swearing blind that he hadn’t done it, Madam Hooch was unable to do anything about the foul.

“It’s one person’s word against another, I’m afraid,” she said, eyeing the Beater sceptically. “As you were, everybody.”

The match recommenced, but now it was more like a battle than a game, with both teams fighting tooth and nail to get a lead over the other. Though the Hufflepuffs were down a Chaser, they were able to hold on to their point advantage. Thanks to the combined efforts of Tonks and David Willows, the Slytherin Beater who had knocked Cordelia off her broomstick suffered the same fate himself, and due to several incidents in which the Slytherin Chasers were caught cobbing Beatrice and Ellie, they were awarded even more penalties. 

“Hopper scores again, making the score seventy to thirty,” Jordan informed the crowd. “But what’s this? It looks like Hexley has eyes on the Snitch!”

Jordan wasn’t wrong; Artemis had indeed seen the Snitch, and was already in hot pursuit of the little golden ball, accelerating across the pitch in order to catch it before Higgs the Slytherin Seeker, who was already on her tail. But Artemis was faster, and she was gaining on the Snitch, almost there now, so close to reaching out and -

“HEY!” 

Artemis shouted as Marcus Flint the Slytherin Captain moved straight into her flight path, too quickly for her to brake in time before she hit him. Luckily, she had her body flattened against her broomstick into a diving position, so rather than being thrown off it, she was able to grip and roll with the broom as she veered off course. In doing so, however, she had lost sight of the Snitch.

Unfortunately, Higgs had not, and before Madam Hooch had the chance to blow her whistle to award Hufflepuff yet another penalty, the Slytherin Seeker had captured the ball. The game was over.

“Flint blocks Hexley, allowing Higgs to get the Snitch! Hufflepuff end the game with seventy points, but Slytherin win with one hundred and eighty!”

The Slytherin stands erupted with cheers, and the Slytherin players all soared over to Higgs to congratulate him. Meanwhile, the Hufflepuffs flew back down to the ground and trudged back to the changing tents dejected, disappointed, and angry.

“I don’t understand why there can’t be a rematch,” said Chiara, frowning over the top of her Butterbeer. “If the Slytherin Seeker only caught the Snitch because their Captain tried to knock Artemis off her broomstick, then why wouldn’t they say that it didn’t count?”

“Because that’s not how Quidditch works,” Penny informed her. “Besides, Snitches have flesh memories. They are issued for each game, so they know exactly who caught which Snitch when. They’d have to order a new Snitch to call a rematch, and it’s not like they’re cheap. And anyway, Marcus Flint has already been telling everyone that he didn’t mean to block Artemis, he was moving out of the way of a Bludger, and that’s why he ended up in her way instead.”

“But that’s a lie!”

“Well, yes, I know that. But it’s what he told Laila Farhat and Waveney Wiley, and they seemed to believe him when I spoke to them.”

Artemis rolled her eyes and finished her Butterbeer. One week after the Hufflepuff’s defeat, the match was still anyone could talk about in the Common Room. She had hoped that going out to the Three Broomsticks would give her and her friends something else to discuss, but clearly, she had been wrong. 

“Anyone want another?” she asked, seeing that Rosmerta was free at the bar. “It’s my round.” 

Madam Rosmerta greeted Artemis as if she hadn’t seen her in years rather than in weeks.

“I’ve been hoping you’d pop in,” the landlady told her, after she had released her from a tight hug. “I’m starting to really book up for Christmas, and I was wondering-”

“If you can rent out my room?”

“Whether you wanted to stay here over the holidays,” Madam Rosmerta said pointedly. “If you don’t, I’ll rent out the room, but I thought I’d offer it to you first.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Because I like having you here, love.”

“Oh,” Artemis bit her lip. “The thing is, Ros, my friends are all staying at the castle, because it’s our last year to do it, so…”

“That’s what I thought,” Rosmerta smiled. “I just wanted to check.”

“I can still come and visit you, though. Because we’re seventeen we can leave the grounds as long as we sign in and out and are back before curfew.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Ros, summoning over a set of pint glasses. “Four pints?”

“Five,” Charlie Weasley walked out from behind the bar and placing another glass on the counter. “I’m just going on my break. I’m guessing you lot won’t mind me joining you?”  

“As long as you don’t mind everyone talking about last week’s Quidditch match,” Artemis rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we lost. I don’t know why we need to keep going on about it.”

Charlie’s lips twitched. “You know, you can’t catch the Snitch every single time you play Quidditch, Artemis.”

“I know, I just… Hang on. You’ve never played a game and not caught the Snitch.”

“No, that’s why said you can’t do it. I obviously can,” Charlie grinned. Artemis pulled a face at him.

“I liked you better before anyone fancied you,” she said, before sighing heavily. “Anyway, it’s not my fault that Flint got in my way.”

“No, he definitely blocked you on purpose. But luckily the point margin was fairly low, all things considered.”

“That’s what Murphy said. He’s gone through the numbers and if we manage to do well in the next couple of matches we can still win the Cup.”

“That reminds me,” Madam Rosmerta stopped pouring out Butterbeers and reached into her pocket. “Talking of winning… I saw this and thought of you.”

She handed Artemis a folded scrap of newspaper, and frowning, Artemis unfolded it and read aloud:

“‘This marks the Daily Prophet’s Forty-Ninth Annual Photography Award, and this year, the theme is ‘Beasts’. Entries due by the thirty-first of December 1990. First prize award of fifty Galleons.’”

“I thought you might like to enter,” Ros smiled. “Put that camera of yours to good use, maybe win yourself some money.”

“Yeah. I might be able to take a photo in Care of Magical Creatures class,” said Artemis, nodding slowly.

“Or you could try tracking something,” Charlie suggested. “Your Great-Uncle must be great at tracking.”

“Yeah, but he’s not back from South America until the new year, and the competition closes at the end of December. He took me with him tracking a couple of times when I was little but I never learnt that much. Not enough to find anything by myself, anyway.”

“Well, I could go with you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Artemis asked, and Charlie shrugged in response. 

“Course not. It would be good to get some real practice in,” he said. “We can take our broomsticks into the forest tomorrow evening, if you like?”

Artemis smiled and pocketed the newspaper.

“Hopefully, I’ll have more luck getting this photo than I did getting that Snitch,” she muttered darkly.

Unfortunately for Artemis, it quickly transpired that tracking was much harder than she remembered it being. 

“Any luck?” she asked Charlie, who was crouching next to the roots of an old and incredibly gnarled tree.

“None,” he grimaced. “Sorry, mate. I was expecting to find more than this. Maybe we should come back some other time.”

“Might be for the best. We’ve been here for three hours and all we have is one picture of an owl and a few of Borf.”

“I really like the ones of Borf.”

“They’re good, I just don’t know if a wolf is what the Prophet means by ‘beast’. They might be looking for something more magical,” Artemis frowned. “And anyway, I don’t think they’re good enough to win.”

“They might be,” Charlie shrugged. “Tell you what. How about we go to the next clearing and if we still haven’t found anything, we try again next weekend?”

It was worth a try, Artemis supposed, and so the two of them made their way deeper through the trees to the next clearing. It was lighter here, and the shadows of the trees cast abstract shadows on the ground, which was strewn with the remains of the autumn leaves, their fiery colours contrasting with the still green pines. If it had been the scenery alone she needed to photograph, she would have been happy, but sadly, there was not a beast to be found.

Or was there? From somewhere in the undergrowth came a rustling noise and the sound of of a twig snapping. Artemis looked across at Charlie, her mouth already open ready to ask him if he had heard the noise, but he placed his finger to his lips, frowning. Clearly, he had already heard it.

“What’s the matter?” whispered Artemis. “Why do you look-”

Artemis’ question was answered before she had finished asking it. From out of the trees stepped a centaur, his dun coloured fur blending into the tanned skin of his bare chest. Recognising the centaur’s face, Artemis breathed a sigh of relief, and she saw Charlie’s shoulders relax as he did the same.

“Torvus,” said Charlie, lowering his head slightly as he addressed the centaur. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

“Unsettled,” came the centaur’s answer. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“We live in unsettled times,” replied Torvus, and his dark eyes rested on Artemis momentarily. “It has been a long time since we last saw each other, Charles Weasley. You are grown. You must take more care in the forest, now.”

“I will do so. Thank you,” Charlie nodded.

“As must you, Artemis Hexley. You must take particular care.”

Artemis’ nose wrinkled. “Why?”

“We live in unsettled times,” Torvus repeated himself. “There are many who might blame you for this. Thankfully, many others will see that you could be the one to find the solution, and will protect you as such. Do you still have the amber I gave you when you were a foal?”

“Yeah, I do,” Artemis said, choosing not to mention that she had never been a foal.

“Do you have it with you now?”

“Um, no...”

“You should have it with you every time you venture into the forest,” said Torvus, and his dark tail swished. “Why haveyou come to the forest?”

“I’m taking photos,” Artemis told the centaur, holding up her camera to show him. Torvus shifted on his hooves, frowning at the camera. 

“Photos?”

“Yeah, I have to take a photo of a beast. It’s for a competition, you see.”

“I do not see,” said the centaur. “What are photos?”

“Oh, right. Well, a photo… It’s a sort of picture, but not painted or drawn or anything, it’s real,” Artemis’ eyebrows furrowed. “It’s like you can capture something you’ve seen, a memory, and hold it so you can keep seeing it, so you don’t lose it or forget it.” Torvus still looked confused, so Artemis held up her camera once more and told him, “Here, let me show you. Just stay still a moment.”

Artemis raised her camera to her eye and pointed it at Torvus, who tensed up, eyeing the item with a look of mistrust on his face and one hand instinctively resting on the bow at his hip. She pressed the button, and when the photo printed from beneath it, held it against her chest for almost a minute before looking at the result and handing it to the centaur. 

“Here,” she said. “This one is of you.”

“It is like a reflection,” Torvus murmured, looking at the photograph of himself. “The likeness is uncanny.”

It was a good likeness, and an excellent photo, far better than the one Artemis had taken of the owl, and even better than her favourites of Borf. The dappled light was shining on Torvus’ fur, his muscles tensed and his face hardened as he looked directly at the camera. He looked dangerous and wise and wild, human yet animalistic.

“Torvus, I was just wondering… As a centaur, would you say that you are a being or a beast?”

“A beast.”

“Why is that?“

“To menfolk, putting a name to something is a step to understanding it. For them, understanding something a step to controlling and exploiting it. We centaurs understand that there are many things that we will never understand, nor be able to control. We abide by the laws of nature, not those of men. If that makes us beasts in the eyes of wizards, I would prefer to be a beast.” He scraped one hoof on the ground, his tail whipping suddenly. “I understand now. You wish to use this likeness that you have captured for this competition of yours.”

“No. Well, not necessarily,” Artemis shook her head, although now that Torvus mentioned it, she realised that she could well do just that. “I was just asking because I meant to ask you the first time we met, and I never did. I should have done, because my friend wanted to know. She was interested in the answer, you see, and now… Well, she died, and now she won’t ever know, but I still wanted to find out for her, even though she’s gone.”

“This friend meant a lot to you,” Torvus said quietly, and Artemis nodded her head. “You have suffered a great loss.”

He held the photo out, offering it back to her. But even though Artemis knew that it could well be the photo to win her the competition, using it - using Torvus - felt wrong somehow. 

“You can keep it,” she said to him. “It’s a photo of you just as you are now. One day you can show it to your foals and they will know what you looked like when you were young.”

Torvus placed the photo into his saddlebag, a pensive look on his face.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you, Artemis Hexley,” he murmured. “Maybe we need not be so wary of you, after all. We shall meet again, I am sure of it. Take care of yourself, Charles Weasley.”

“You too, Torvus,“ said Charlie, but Torvus had already turned from him and returned to the trees from whence he had come. Charlie watched his leave with his head tilted to one side. “That’s strange.”

“I mean, he’s always been a bit strange,” Artemis replied.

“Not his behaviour,” Charlie shook his head. “I just thought I heard something on that side of the clearing, and he came out from this side.”

He fell silent and seemed to be listening for something. Artemis followed suit. Charlie was right. There was a noise coming from the other side of the clearing. The two of them exchanged dark looks, and both raised their wands as they walked across the clearing to investigate.

At the base of a tree, a patch of ferns was rustling, and a soft snuffling sound was coming from it. Charlie pointed at Artemis’ camera, and she held it in position to capture another shot. She nodded at Charlie, who waved his wand, and the foliage parted to reveal…

“A Niffler?” Artemis said out loud, lowering her camera. “What in the name of Merlin’s hairy back is a Niffler doing here?”

“I dunno,” Charlie said, and the Niffler ran up to him, snorting at his boots. He frowned deeply. “Artemis, I know one Niffler looks very similar to another, but… You don’t think that this one looks really familiar, do you?”

Artemis tilted her head as she looked at the Niffler, who looked at her and chirped excitedly.

“Sickleworth, is that you?” she asked it, and the Niffler jumped up and down, making a noise like coins jingling as it did so. “It is you, Sickleworth!” 

Sickleworth ran over to Artemis and leapt into her arms. He had not grown since she had last seen him, but he was heavier than she remembered him being. Far heavier. Frowning, she reached into his pouch, ignoring his indignant snorts, and took out the first item her fingers reached: a gold pin-badge shaped like a Snitch. She rolled her eyes and laughed quietly. Why had no one thought of this before?

“You know, Charlie, I think we’ve just captured our thief.”

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #hphm #the hexley saga #murphy mcnully #ellie hopper #david willows #amelia booth #nymphadora tonks #beatrice haywood #penny haywood #chiara lobosca #charlie weasley #madam rosmerta #torvus

[urdisappointmentsmovieblog]

Grumpy loners adopting random children trope >>>

#stranger things #tlou #the last of us #the mandalorian #the witcher #atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #into the spider verse #lego batman #jim hopper #el hopper #eleven hopper #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #joel and ellie #din darjin #mandolorian #mando #grogu #grogu djarin #baby yoda #the child #geralt #geralt of rivia #Cirilla #cirilla fiona elen riannon #miles morales

[elliespuns]

I just found out that Ellie & Joel were an inspiration for Eleven & Hopper. I will never be the same.

#the duffer brothers said so in an interview #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie and joel #joellie #jim hopper #eleven hopper #eleven and hopper #stranger things #the last of us game #tlou game