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lara-kaminari · 4 years

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Pink pill - Felix Rosier x Reader (MC) One-shot

Summary:

- Hey Tulip, do you remember when Felix Rosier asked me for a MC headache pill? - Yes, Tonks. And? - Maybe, accidentally, I gave him another kind of pill. -You mean...? -Shit, yeah.

Contenido:

Félix luchaba con sus propios sentimientos esa tarde en la biblioteca junto a MC. Ella estudiaba junto a él, pasaban el tiempo juntos antes de ir al partido de quidditch que se disputaría; otros de los amigos de la rompe maldiciones estaban allí, pero no les daba importancia.

Apenas podía concentrarse en el libro abierto frente a él; su amiga reposaba su cuerpo contra el estante de libros, sus piernas estaban cruzadas, y por alguna extraña razón le parecían fascinantes. Se preguntó cómo se sentiría simplemente acariciarlas o reposar su cabeza en ellas, bajó su vista de nuevo hacia el libro. Nada de eso pasaría, él se graduaría pronto y ella se quedaría a disfrutar la vida de una adolescente de quince años, ¿por qué se repetía constantemente su edad? Tener diecisiete años no es una edad tan avanzada, quizá podría…

Ella lo estaba mirando, ¿por qué lo estaba mirando? Oh no, ¡él también la veía! No lograba bajar su mirada, como si estuviese congelado y entrenado para verla a los ojos. Sintió su garganta volverse seca, su mente era atacada con preguntas sin respuestas ¿acaso iba a revelar sus sentimientos? ¿En la biblioteca? ¿Susurrando románticamente?

— Siento que mi cabeza va a estallar por leer tanto, ¿podrías pedirle a Tonks una píldora para el dolor? — Preguntó con voz dulce; no podía negarse a esa sonrisa amable, parecía apenada ¿por qué? Haría cualquier cosa por ella.

Asintió y se acercó a la metamorfomaga que estudiaba junto con la pelirroja.

— Disculpa Tonks, MC dice que necesita una píldora para el dolor de cabeza ¿tienes alguna?

— Oh claro. — Rebuscó entre su mochila y sacó un pastillero, era una cantidad inusual de medicamentos. Ella notó su sorpresa. — Estuve ayudando a la señora Pomfrey en esto de curar personas, déjame ver… ¡Tiene que ser esta!

Le extendió una píldora rosa y él le agradeció antes de irse, revisándola bien notó que tenía un corazón grabado, algo cursi para ser un medicamento.

— Aquí está tu salvación. — Dijo melodramático mientras le entregaba la píldora con una reverencia. Su compañera río ante el gesto y la tragó sin más. — ¿Estarás bien? Recuerda que iremos a ver el partido, los gritos de la multitud no serán lo mejor si sigues con tu dolor.

— Estaré bien, seguramente me recuperaré rápido.

Ella volcó su vista al libro, y Félix tuvo oportunidad de volver a espiarla a escondidas. Esta vez se tomaría el tiempo necesario para analizar cada una de sus facciones; sus pestañas eran tan largas y estaba seguro que era natural, algunos mechones de cabello caían sobre sus mejillas esponjosas ¿tendría oportunidad de apretarlas alguna vez? Se deleitó con sus labios, estaban heridos porque MC los mordía según su estrés o ansiedad, él podría morderlos también si eso la calmara.

¿Otra vez con esos pensamientos? Era imperativo concentrarse en su futuro y no en una chica de secundaria, pronto estaría trabajando en la reserva de dragones en Rumania, cumpliendo su mayor sueño y dedicándose a… Oh, ella desprendió los primeros dos botones de su camisa y empezó a agitar su mano para darse aire ¿Tenía calor? Inusual, no se encontraban en una época especialmente calurosa. De cualquier manera, era estúpido intentar encontrar lógica en la manera de ser de MC, ella iba contra toda normativa escrita y no escrita.

— Félix, no me siento bien. — Susurró; sostuvo su cabeza con su mano mientras intentaba mantenerse de pie. Se sintió un tonto por no darse cuenta antes de su estado, era momento de mantener los pies sobre la tierra. — ¿Puedes llevarme a nuestra sala común?

— Tranquila, te tengo. — Tal parece que se perderían el partido. Varios alumnos de slytherin pasaron a su lado con las caras pintadas y banderines, al menos con la Sala Común en silencio podría descansar y sentirse mejor.

Tal como predijo, no había nadie allí. La acostó en los sillones frente al fuego mientras verificaba su estado, sus mejillas estaban tan rojas y su temperatura corporal no hacía más que subir, ¿Sería fiebre? Al menos podría redimirse cuidándola y atendiendo cada una de sus necesidades.

Ella se incorporó y comenzó a quitarse la camisa sin pudor.

—¡Espera! No hagas eso aquí, ve a tu cuarto y ponte una pijama al menos. — Dijo mientras la detenía. Ella se veía diferente, le hizo un puchero mientras volvía a desabrochar los últimos botones de su camisa.

— No quiero ropa, tengo calor.

— Bien, pero no puedes desnudarte aquí sólo porque sí. — Volvió a levantar la prenda y se la extendió, intentando con todas sus fuerzas no ver lo que no estaba permitido.

— Llévame a tu habitación, necesito acostarme. — Suspiró, al menos allí podría tenerla controlada. Fue su guía hasta el cuarto, ella seguía sin cubrirse la parte posterior del cuerpo y temía no poder controlar sus ojos si ella no se cambiaba.

Dejó a MC en su cama mientras él se encargaba de asegurar la puerta, lo último que necesitaba era dar explicaciones sobre porqué una chica semidesnuda estaba en su cuarto y específicamente en su cama. Simplemente era la fiebre y las alucinaciones, la chica que conocía jamás podría haberse quitado la camisa frente a tu muchacho por algo tan banal como un golpe de calor ¿O sí? Desgraciada caja de misterios que jamás podría entender. Apoyó su frente contra la madera mientras sostenía el picaporte, intentaría que durmiera y si no presentaba mejoras iría corriendo con la señora Pomfrey.

Al voltear creyó que también estaba alucinando, ¿era la fiebre? ¿Se transmitía tan rápido? Imposible, esa mañana estaba bien y ni siquiera había presentado síntomas. Entonces, ¿Por qué estaba viendo a MC completamente desnuda en su cama? Ni siquiera en sus mejores sueños habría imaginado algo así, eran demasiados detalles para ser producto de su joven mente. Su cabello alborotado, las mejillas rojas como manzanas, la redondez de sus senos y como sus propias manos acariciaban cada centímetro de ese joven cuerpo. Una de sus manos bajó más, excedió el límite entre lo real y lo imaginario, se estaba tocando a sí misma.

No sabía cómo reaccionar, ninguna palabra salía de su boca ¿Qué podía decir? Su propia mente lo traicionaba pidiendo más, ansioso de escuchar los sonidos que ella emitía cuando dejaba entrar y salir sus dedos. Se acercó a pasos lentos hasta estar frente a su compañera, una vista única y tan perfecta, el movimiento de su mano era mágico y se retorcía de placer como una ninfa del bosque. Tuvo que sostenerse de las columnas de su cama para no saltar sobre ella en ese mismo instante, si estaba alucinando no quería ser devuelto a la realidad.

Ella abrió sus ojos para verlo directamente.

— He hecho esto muchas veces pensando en ti, Félix. — Esa sonrisa, la forma en la que mordió si labio. Se quitó la ropa con una rapidez no humana, necesitaba seguir escuchándola, aprovechar cada segundo de ese sueño divino.

Se posicionó sobre ella para robarle los primeros besos, una boca tan dulce e inocente, diciendo las cosas más obscenas. Lo atacó una urgencia desesperada por saborearla más, su lengua se enredaba con la suya provocando que ella pasara sus brazos alrededor de su cuello y apegara más su cuerpo. Su toque era tan real, al fin podía morder esos carnosos labiosos y hacerlos suyos; sintió su entrepierna palpitar urgida por ser tocada. Como si leyera su pensamiento, ella bajó su mano y masajeó lentamente su miembro.

Estaba mal, ¿por qué lo estaban haciendo? Maldita sea, él era su prefecto y su figura de autoridad. Si no se detenían ahora podrían romper más reglas de las que deberían, todavía podía salvarse la situación si le explicaba que… Su boca lo traicionó al soltar un gemido de placer, MC estaba usando sus dos manos para estimularlo y sus labios besaban y mordían su cuello desprotegido. Aún estaban a tiempo de parar, sólo necesitaba…

— Rómpeme, Rosier. Siempre quise que fueras el primero.

Al diablo con las reglas.

Sus dedos encontraron el camino hacia su agujero, estaba tan mojada y caliente. Jugueteó un rato viéndola pedir más mientras acariciaba su clítoris con el pulgar, sus dedos se abrieron y cerraron igual que unas tijeras, dispuesto a prepararla él mismo. Su lengua recorrió uno de sus senos, succionando y mordiendo con cuidado.

— Te preparaste muy bien para mí. — No lograba descubrir el origen de su creciente hambre sexual, ¿el deseo se mantuvo resguardado tanto tiempo? Ya no poseía control sobre su propio ser, fue demasiado tiempo observándola en la biblioteca e imaginando escenarios indebidos que borraba lo más rápido que su cerebro le permitía. Ahora ella estaba allí, temblando de éxtasis y proclamando su nombre entre jadeos.

Abrió sus piernas, y se posicionó para entrar. Echó un último vistazo para observar a aquella chica sonrojada, desnuda, y ansiosa que pedía por él; iba a volverlo loco, era su especialidad. Empujó hacia adentro con cierta dificultad, su amante se sujetó de las sábanas con fuerza y gritó su nombre mientras arqueaba la espalda; aumentó la fuerza de sus empujes maravillado por como sus senos se movían al ritmo de las estocadas, por como sus ojos seguían en él y le dirigían una mirada de puro deseo.

Era tan bueno que rayaba lo fantasioso, mordía su labio con fuerza para asegurarse a sí mismo que no se había desmayado en la biblioteca y que no despertaría en la enfermería con una MC actuando normal a su lado para cuidarlo. Su parte lógica lo interrumpía para recordarle que estaba mal y era más difícil de lo esperado poder quitárselo de encima.

— Félix, no pares… Necesito más…

Un prefecto debía ayudar a sus estudiantes, ¿no es cierto? Le dio vuelta con agilidad, acarició su espalda y notó que portaba un pequeño lunar detrás de su cuello. El sonido de gemidos volvió a sacudir la habitación; se movía rítmicamente contra las caderas de su amante, dejando escapar suspiros de excitación y placer. Con sus manos a cada lado de su pequeño y suave cuerpo, se sujetó para asegurar su fuerza en cada empuje.

MC deslizó su mano por debajo para acariciar su clítoris, era consciente de que pronto acabaría y se lo hizo saber a su acompañante. Quería ser llenada por su esencia, soltó un gemido al imaginarse a sí misma chorrear la sustancia espesa y blanca de su prefecto; su cuerpo se tensó cuando él tomó su cabello y tiró su cabeza hacia atrás, su mente estuvo en blanco unos segundos hasta que sintió como perdía la fuerza en su cuerpo. Jadeó y se dejó caer contra el colchón, estaba envuelta en una neblina de éxtasis, su único momento de lucidez apareció cuando Rosier acabó dentro de ella.

Él cayó rendido a su lado, con su respiración agitada y sin poder creer que realmente se había acostado con una estudiante ¡No sólo una simple estudiante! Era la rompe maldiciones más conocida del colegio, la chica que no temía meterse en problemas y quitarle puntos a Slytherin, ella flotaba sobre todos con su hermosa sonrisa y esos ojos tan...

MC lo estaba viendo ¿Por qué lo estaba viendo? Cierto, el sexo. Inesperado, irresponsable, contra las reglas y tan maravilloso.

— No esperaba que todo esto ocurriera así. — Dijo con voz suave. Félix tragó saliva, ciertamente había sido una sorpresa para ambos. — Primero quería confesar mis sentimientos, invitarte a salir, comenzar una relación y luego...

— Espera. ¿A qué te refieres con sentimientos?

— Te amo, Félix.

Sonrió, pasó tanto tiempo negándose la posibilidad de amar y ahora ella aparecía para cambiarlo todo. Se inclinó para besarla y ella le devolvió el gesto, pero lo profundizó más rápido de lo que esperaba.

— Todavía siento calor, ¿podemos hacerlo otra vez?

— Creo que tendremos que ir a un lugar más privado, ¿qué te parecería ir al baño de prefectos? No es un mal lugar para tomar un baño.

#felix rosier #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x reader #felix-rosier-x-mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #jacob sibling #hogwarts mystery #felix rosier au #felix rosier one shot

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

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Necessary Monsters (1/16)

Summary: His first instinct is to pull her flush against him, and his second is to push her away to disguise his desire for the first. Neither seem appropriate for the setting and Felix settles for reaching a single arm around her to pat her back carefully.

No one at Hogwarts, staff or student, can remember a more heated build-up to the Quidditch Cup. The final match may be between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but the tension has set the entire school on edge. Even the professors have been caught playing sides. McGonagall has neglected to assign homework to Gryffindor the week leading up to the match, and there's a rumour Snape has excused the Slytherin team from Potions classes to fit in extra, secret trainings.

When the long-anticipated day finally arrives, students begin filing into the stands before breakfast to ensure they have decent seats, and by mid-morning there isn't an empty space anywhere. The stadium itself seems to vibrate with the collective anticipation.

It does not escape the notice of the more observant older students that the spectators appear to be evenly divided into crowds of red and green. Some people sport both colours simultaneously. A match like this would usually show the rest of the school united against Slytherin, the seats filled with red and gold and roaring lions. But enthusiasm for Slytherin is at an all-time high. Its Quidditch team is enjoying a popularity the house has not seen since before the first Wizarding War. For once, the palpable tension has little to do with which houses are playing and more to do with the players themselves.

Because it isn't just Gryffindor versus Slytherin, it's Weasley versus Windsong.

Both sixth years and captains of their respective teams. The former commonly believed to be the best Seeker ever trained at Hogwarts and the latter famous for her aerial acrobatics and ability to play any position with ease. Efforts by the opposite houses to knock each out of the running has forced both to travel with an entourage for the last month. An entourage that more often than not includes each other as it's a well-known fact that Charlie Weasley and Juniper Windsong are not only Quidditch rivals, but close friends.

The teams walk onto the pitch to tumultuous applause, the two captains coming to face each other on either side of Madam Hooch. They're surprisingly close in height, and the grins they flash at each other, hidden from most of the spectators, are genuine, if competitive. They shake hands, the teams mount their brooms, and the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle is drowned by the roar of the crowd as the players soar into the air.

The game begins, and Felix Rosier isn't sure he's ever been so nervous in his life. Which is ridiculous, he tells himself. He's faced down furious, fire-breathing dragons; why on earth should something as silly as a school Quidditch game have his heart thumping violently in his chest?

He grips his knees tightly as he watches the Slytherin Chaser identified as Skye Parkin by commentator Murphy McNully tear off down the field with the Quaffle. She performs a complicated little flying manouevre that confuses the Gryffindor Keeper and earns the first goal of the game. The stands erupt. Felix realizes he's dizzy from holding his breath. He exhales forcefully and reminds himself that he's not invested in the outcome of this match.

"Relax, friend, what will happen will happen. What can we add to the match by worrying?"

Felix cuts his eyes across to the young man next to him. It's been a few years, but he recognizes the disheveled hair and unshaven chin of recently graduated Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Orion Amari.

"I'm not worried," Felix insists.

Orion nods. "A healthy perspective."

The crowd roars again as Skye Parkin approaches the Gryffindor goal posts at break-neck speed. Murphy McNully's magically amplified voice carries smoothly across the noise.

And will we see a second Slytherin goal in as many minutes? Parkin shoots and - No! Blocked by brand new Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood!

"The new Gryffindor Keeper is well balanced, is he not? Skye will have to alter her tactics to get past him," comments Orion sagely.

Felix merely grunts in response. His focus is on the pitch, though his eyes aren’t following the progress of the Quaffle.

"You are Felix Rosier, aren't you? Slytherin's prefect from a few years ago?" Orion asks.

Felix gives a short nod.

"I heard you were in China studying dragons now?"

"Peru," corrects Felix tersely.

"Ah." Curiousity peeks through Orion’s unflappable veneer. "You know, I cannot remember ever seeing you at a Quidditch match before. Even when you were at school."

Of course, Felix thinks, it would be just his luck to be stuck beside the one person in the entire stadium more interested in conversation than the game.

"I never cared much for Quidditch. Waste of time, really," he says brusquely, hoping the former Captain will be offended enough to stop talking to him. But Orion merely nods again, face impassive.

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Although, yours makes it all the more unusual for you to be here."

Felix sighs. "It's an important match for... Slytherin," he says, before turning on Orion abruptly. "You've graduated as well, Amari. What are you doing here?"

"Showing support to my Quidditch family, of course," Orion replies. "We may graduate from school but we never graduate from our friends." He turns to inspect the progress of the game. "And, as you said, it is an important match. Especially for the new Slytherin captain."

Felix's heart stutters, but before he can respond the people around them are on their feet. McNully's commentary can just be heard above the renewed screams of excitement.

And Weasley dives! Is that the Snitch there on the ground? Could this match be over before it truly begins?

Everyone in the stadium, Orion included, is watching Charlie Weasley dive toward the grass below. Everyone except Felix, who closes his eyes, too nervous to look. One shaky breath, then two. The spectators burst into a mix of delighted cheers and disappointed cries.

Foiled! By the brilliant beating of Windsong and Lee!

At the sound of her name, Felix's eyes automatically. Just in time to catch a glimpse of Juniper Windsong swooping by the stands where Felix sits, as she takes a victory lap around the stadium. Felix’s stomach does a pleasant flip, and he has to fight to keep his face straight.

Everything from Juniper's wide grin to her perfect posture is exceptionally confident as she controls her Comet 260 with only her knees, both hands wielding her Beater's club. Squinting, Felix can just see Barnaby Lee opposite her across the pitch. Together, the two of them keep possession of a Bludger, hitting it back and forth to each other rapidly. Then, with a casual-looking flick of her wrist, Juniper sends it hurtling toward an unlucky Gryffindor Chaser. The Chaser dives out of the way of the Bludger, leaving the path to the goal posts wide open for Skye Parkin to score again.

"They make quite the team, do they not?"

Felix can just hear Orion's voice under the cheers and applause. He purses his lips tightly, but Orion continues as though he hasn't noticed.

"Such an easy rapport. It is indicative of true harmony both on and off the pitch. Perhaps more teams should consider choosing Beaters who are romantically involved."

"They're not romantically involved,” corrects Felix hotly. "Not anymore. They broke up last summer. They haven't been together all year."

"Interesting," Amari murmurs. Felix feels the younger man's eyes on him, but he keeps his gaze steadfastly forward.

The Slytherin Chasers make their way up the pitch in possession of the Quaffle. Felix recognises Skye Parkin's attempt to set up some sort of Quidditch play. He isn't sure of its name or its purpose, but he feels certain it does not involve a second Slytherin Chaser snatching the Quaffle away from Skye at the last minute causing a scuffle in mid-air. A Gryffindor Chaser nearby takes advantage of the confusion and swoops down on them from above. The Chaser nicks the Quaffle and tanks off down the pitch before Skye can gather herself. The red and gold waves in the stands stamp their approval.

Orion shakes his head. "That Chaser is not working in harmony with his fellow players."

Felix's eyes narrow at the offending player. "That's Marcus Flint. He's been driving Windsong mad all year. Doesn't want to take orders from a girl, apparently."

Madam Hooch's whistle rings through the Stadium calling for time out. Juniper Windsong and Skye Parkin land hard near the Slytherin goal posts, Skye ranting at the captain before her feet are even on the ground. Felix is too far away to hear any words, but it's obvious from Skye's wild gesticulations toward Marcus Flint, who has landed nearby, what the conversation concerns. Felix's jaw begins to ache, and he realizes he's been gritting his teeth.

"You know quite a bit about the inner workings of the team for someone who does not care for Quidditch," observes Orion, watching Felix instead of the players on the ground.

Distracted by the sight of Juniper now berating the sullen-looking Flint, Felix answers, "Juniper mentioned him," without thinking.

"I see," Orion says. "I did not know you were so close with our resident cursebreaker."

"We...write.” Felix’s cheeks redden in spite of himself.

"Peru is a long way to come to support a pen friend." Orion's tone is unassuming, but the heat continues to spread down Felix's collar.

"I happened to be in the country," says Felix defensively. "And, as she mentioned being nervous about the game and I had some time on my hands, I thought I'd stop by. That's all."

Orion makes no further comment as the Slytherin players return to the air. Felix steals a quick glance at his pocket watch, fervently hoping the match will not last much longer.

His hopes are dashed as another hour passes, Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle nearly the entire time. Felix is grudgingly impressed by Skye Parkin's performance. She whips between the Gryffindor players as easily as if they were training dummies, although Flint continues to be a thorn in her side. Juniper is forced to fly between them more than once to stop their in-fighting.

Usually Felix would be bored to tears by now, but he can't keep his eyes off Juniper as she flies expertly about the pitch. The way she manages to keep track of the entire game at once, occasionally calling out plays or advice to her team, all while flicking Bludgers at the Gryffindor seeker is fascinating to him. Felix knows admittedly little about Quidditch strategy, but even he can see Juniper's goal is to prevent the Weasley boy from catching the Snitch at all costs. She and Barnaby Lee shadow the fiery red-head about the pitch. No matter how fast he flies, the Gryffindor Seeker cannot seem to shake the Slytherin Beaters.

The fourth time Charlie Weasley spots the Snitch, the little gold ball is fluttering near the same stands in which Felix and Orion sit. Felix has a perfect view of Juniper as she bats a Bludger directly at Charlie's outstretched hand. In the split second he withdraws to avoid breaking any fingers, the Snitch disappears. Juniper grins cheekily at the furious Seeker, and Felix's stomach somersaults again.

Well folks, we're an hour in, and the score stands at 160 points to 40 for Slytherin! Seems like Gryffindor's usual strategy of relying on a quick win by Weasley just isn't working for them this time! Felix can detect a note of glee in McNully's commentary.

Tensions in the air have reached a fever pitch, and Felix has to stop himself from wringing his hands visibly in his lap. Marcus Flint seems to have elected himself Slytherin's enforcer. He abandons any attempts to score in favor of knocking into Gryffindor players who fly too close to Skye Parkin. The third time he does this, the unfortunate Gryffindor Chaser nearly falls from her broom, and Madam Hooch calls a foul. Felix watches Juniper fly right up next to Flint, grabbing his Quidditch robes by the collar and speaking fiercely into his face. Felix wishes he were close enough to hear what she's saying. He can guess, from the way Flint yanks his robes from her grasp and flies off angrily, it isn't encouragement. Felix runs his fingers through his hair nervously.

Play resumes as the Gryffindor Chaser shoots a penalty shot and scores. The cheers from the crowd have only just begun when a collective gasp ripples through them. Charlie Weasley rockets upward, lying flat against his broom for extra speed. At the far end of the pitch, Juniper hits one Bludger and then the other frantically at the Seeker who manages to dodge both.

"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter," Felix mumbles under his breath as Weasley stretches his arm above his head, fumbling for the tiny gold ball.

Out of nowhere, Marcus Flint smashes into the Gryffindor Seeker's side, knocking him from his broom entirely. Weasley doesn't fall far before his arm is caught by a teammate, but the Gryffindor fans in the audience howl in outrage.

Foul by Slytherin Chaser Flint! There's Madam Hooch's whistle and it's a penalty shot for Gryffindor - but wait! Looks like Slytherin Captain Windsong has called for time-out.

The green-clad players swoop toward the ground. Felix watches Juniper stalk over to Flint, anger in her every movement. In spite of the distance between them, Felix fancies he can hear Juniper shouting at the rogue Chaser, who bellows right back. Flint is a good head taller than his Captain, broader as well, but Juniper squares up against him undaunted. She points a furious finger across the pitch to the changing rooms. Flint shakes his head, lips moving rapidly. Their argument lasts one tense minute before Flint, snarling, shoves Juniper away from him, hard.

Felix is on his feet without realising, blood pounding in his ears. He's not alone. The stadium around him appears to have exploded. Down on the grass, Barnaby Lee and another Slytherin player drag Flint away from Juniper, herself now restraining a shrieking Skye Parkin. Some primal instinct orders Felix to get to the pitch to assist, the fact that there's nothing he can do having no bearing whatsoever. It takes all the self-control he possesses to force himself to return to his seat.

Madam Hooch lands in the middle of the fight, blowing madly on her whistle. Felix's eyes widen as he recognises Snape crossing the pitch toward the scuffling team, as well. There's a few minutes heated discourse between the Slytherin Head of House and his Quidditch Captain before Juniper breaks away, breathing hard. She holds a swift, secret conversation with Skye, their heads bent close together, then she hands her Beater's bat to Madam Hooch and signals her team to remount their brooms. All except Flint. Felix watches, mouth hanging slightly open, as Snape escorts the furiously railing Slytherin boy back across the pitch and into the changing rooms.

And it looks like Windsong has booted Marcus Flint from the Slytherin team and is taking his place as Chaser! Slytherin will now be one player short for the most critical match of the entire year! A bold move for the new captain.

"Can she do that?" Felix asks, stunned, as the team waits for Madam Hooch's whistle to resume play.

"If she has done it, then it can be done," answers Orion mystically.

Felix brings a hand up to trace the long scar running down the side of his neck. He feels ridiculously helpless. He wishes vainly that he had never come to the match. If he'd had any idea how stressful Quidditch could be, he would simply have caught up with Juniper afterwards, and spared himself this torment.

The game begins again in earnest, and if Slytherin had a monopoly on the Quaffle before, it's nothing compared to now. Between Skye and Juniper, the Gryffindor Chasers barely have a glimpse of the ball. Slytherin gains another 30 points in less than ten minutes.

And Slytherin is now up by enough to win the match even with a Gryffindor Snitch capture! One has to wonder how this will affect Weasley's strategy...

It's obvious even to Felix that the Gryffindor Seeker has slowed his incessant circling of the pitch. Presumably, he’s waiting until the Chasers score more points, but it seems unlikely Gryffindor will ever catch up. While Oliver Wood manages to save about one in three shots at the goal posts, the Gryffindor Chasers cannot manage to wrest the Quaffle from Skye and Juniper. Although, Felix thinks he can detect a slight lag in the Slytherin Chasers' movements. He wonders if the lengthy game hasn't begun to tire them.

At 300 points up for Slytherin, the spectators begin to be restless. The buzz of scattered conversations can be heard amid the regular cheers.

"Is this a typical length for a Quidditch game?" Felix directs the question at Orion, and the young man gives his enigmatic smile.

"There is nothing typical about a Quidditch match. Each is unique," he replies knowingly, before adding: "This one is rather long, though."

Sudden shouts in the crowd around him cause Felix to look up. He’s in time to see Weasley dive once more, just in front of his stand. As Felix watches, Barnaby Lee zooms forward, Beater's bat poised to aim a passing Bludger at the Seeker, but a shrill whistle distracts him before he can execute the attack. Half the players on the pitch, and Felix in the stands, follow the source of the noise to the Slytherin Captain. Juniper hovers near a goal post, shaking her head frantically at Barnaby.

Felix furrows his brow, confused. "What, does she want Weasley to catch it?" he asks incredulously.

Orion's smile blossoms into something less mysterious and more genuine. "Charlie Weasley is a good friend of Juniper's. Perhaps, she wants his team to lose with dignity."

Felix's face twists in distaste. "Or perhaps she just wants the game to be over," he argues, as Charlie snatches the golden blur hovering just above the ground.

"That too," Orion agrees, and the stadium around them erupts.

Supporters of both sides are screaming and crying. Felix finds himself on his feet with everyone else, caught up in the wave of adoring Quidditch fans applauding uproariously. He watches the Slytherin team hit the ground, brooms forgotten as they reach for each other in a giant, scrum-like embrace. Felix realizes the back of his robes are soaked through with sweat as though he too has been flying nonstop for hours.

Students swarm from the stands like locusts to surround the new Hogwarts Quidditch champions. Felix is just considering whether or not to attempt pushing through them when he catches sight of one lone, green-clad figure moving against the crowd. Juniper forces her way through the ecstatic Slytherins to the end of the pitch where the Gryffindor team has landed, slightly more subdued. Charlie Weasley's bright red hair is visible even from high in the stands. Felix can make out the Gryffindor's reluctant grin as he extends a hand toward the approaching Slytherin. Juniper ignores it. She pulls the short, stocky boy into a tight hug, and Felix's stomach, writhing nearly non-stop for the entire match, suddenly turns to lead.

Beside him, Orion says into his ear, "So, what do you think of Quidditch now?"

Felix scowls, unable to rip his eyes away from the spectacle below him.

"Absolutely pointless," he grumbles.

In spite of her scene on the pitch and its obvious implications, Felix decides it would be a phenomenal waste of time to have endured such a painfully long match without seeing Juniper after all, so he joins the throng traipsing from the Quidditch Pitch to the Hogwarts' dungeons. Although it has been a few years, Felix is sure he's never seen the Slytherin common room so crowded. It's impossible to see to the wall opposite, the room is so tightly packed with cheering, jumping bodies. He's certain there aren't this many people in the whole of Slytherin house. Sure enough, Felix catches a glimpse of Penny Haywood and another Hufflepuff girl with spiky pink hair passing out Butterbeers and talking animatedly.

"What in Merlin's name are Hufflepuffs doing here?" Felix mutters to no one in particular.

"Quidditch has a way of bringing people together." Felix rolls his eyes hugely as he recognizes Orion's mellow voice from beside his shoulder. "As does Juniper Windsong."

Felix bristles but says nothing. It's true, Juniper's friend group has always been diverse. It's a trait he usually admires in her, but Felix isn't well-disposed to her inter-house friendships just at present. He has only a moment to brood over this, however, before enormous arms grab him from behind and lift him off his feet.

"Felix!"

He recognises the enthusiastic voice of Barnaby Lee. The muscular boy gives Felix another hard squeeze before lowering him back to the floor.

"Nice to see you too, Barnaby," Felix gasps, winded by the rib-crushing hug. He straightens his robes and glances around self-consciously. Quidditch team members are filing in behind Barnaby, and Felix's heart skips a beat as the crowd around them gives an enormous cheer. But it's only Skye Parkin entering the common room with the Quidditch Cup held above her head.

"What are you doing here?" asks Barnaby excitedly. "I didn't know you were back from China!"

"Peru," Felix corrects, attempting to scan the players behind Barnaby as casually as possible. "And yes, I arrived today."

"Just to see us play?"

Felix fixes his gaze on the extremely tall, well-built young man in front of him. Barnaby has grown-up significantly since the last time Felix saw him, but he hasn't lost any of his boyish good-looks. Felix recalls Orion's comments about Barnaby and Juniper from the Quidditch match, and his already bad mood continues to sour.

"No, of course not," he replies curtly. "I've applied for a transfer to the Romanian Reserve. My interview is next week."

"Wow! That's amazing!" Barnaby's face is full of awe, which soothes Felix's temper very slightly. "But... how did you know we had a match today?"

Felix repeats his now practiced excuse. "Juniper mentioned it in her last letter, and, as I was in the country in time, I thought I'd drop by."

"So, she doesn't know you're here? C'mon, she'll be so excited to see you!" Barnaby grabs Felix by the wrist before he can reply and wades into the sea of bodies, pulling the former prefect in his wake. Felix is careful to stand as close to Barnaby as possible to keep himself from being swallowed by the crowd. He isn't usually bothered by cramped spaces. He's spent the last three years in a variety of tight quarters. But something about the heat and noise and sweat from the excited bodies around him makes him feel dizzy. He closes his eyes, allowing Barnaby to drag him forward, and so he hears Juniper before he sees her.

"Look, I warned him all year. If he wasn't going to be a team player then he wasn't going to play on the team."

Felix’s eyes snap open automatically. A cluster of people in festive green face-paint block his view, many of them busy loudly protesting Juniper's words.

"Weasley would have caught that snitch without Marcus! He saved the game!" says one petulant voice.

"That's how Slytherin plays! It's about doing anything to win!" insists another.

All pretense of nonchalance abandoned, Felix cranes his neck over Barnaby's shoulder. He’s just able to glimpse the back of Juniper's head. Her hair falls in waves, much longer and more kempt than he remembers.

"Look, no one wants to win more than I do!" she argues, and Felix swears he can actually hear her smile. "Well, except maybe Skye."

There's an outburst of appreciative laughter from her audience.

"But cheating is a cop-out," Juniper continues. "It means someone else is really better than me and I couldn't beat them on my own. I told Flint, I wanted us to win because we were the best or die trying, but cheating to make that happen is just the same as losing."

"Yeah, and it's nothing to do with the fact that it's Weasley he knocked about," says a sly voice from somewhere in the crowd.

The outcry around her is divided into loud cheers and raucous laughter, but Barnaby's voice cuts through them.

"Juniper! Juniper, look who's here!"

Barnaby steps aside just as Juniper's head whips around. Her eyes widen in recognition as they fall upon Felix. He has a split second to worry whether he should keep his face neutral or attempt a smile, before she flings her arms around his neck, dragging him into an eager embrace. Felix's first instinct is to pull her flush against him, and his second is to push her away to disguise his desire for the first. Neither seem appropriate for the setting. He settles for reaching a single arm around her to pat her back carefully.

Juniper pulls away, leaving her hands resting on his shoulders. She's grown quite a bit if she can look him in the eye while doing that.

"You're here! I can't believe you're here!" she babbles excitedly, her face transported by her wide smile. She laughs giddily and hugs him again, and as Felix inhales that familiar aroma of lavender and something else he can't identify, all his ill-feeling evaporates.

However entangled she may be with anyone else, Barnaby Lee or Charlie Weasley, it's suddenly as meaningless to him as Quidditch. Her scent, her arms around him, her body pressed up against his, all confirm for Felix what he's suspected for the past year: he's in love with Juniper Windsong. And he's come back to Hogwarts with the express purpose of telling her so.

Read Chapter 2 | View all stories on the Masterpost

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ardentmuse · 5 years

Text

Felix Rosier x Reader Masterlist

Last Update: September 19, 2019

Oneshots

Common Welsh Greens 😢😍

#felix rosier #felix rosier imagine #felix rosier x reader #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #hphm #hphm imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #reader insert #harry potter masterlist

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rosiersgirl · 6 years

Text

GOODNIGHT, LOVE OF MINE

•

PAIRING: Felix Rosier x Jacob’s Sister

SUMMARY: Felix never believed in love, until his eyes found hers.

WORDS: 956

MASTERLIST

Felix Rosier wasn’t a strong believer of romance.

He wasn’t a believer of happy endings, princesses in flower crowns or midnight kisses under the pale moonlight. No.

Felix was a believer of working hard in silence, becoming the best and taking what he wanted with no mercy… Just like his father, and the father of his father.

Felix Rosier stayed awake at night to study. Practiced charms and potions until perfection was reached and felt pride on not only becoming the best wizard Slytherin had seen... But on being the best at everything.

Felix Rosier took calculated risks, seeked the probability before making choices and never allowed himself to fail. He embraced discipline as an old friend and respected his adversaries as much as his own friends.

Felix was raised to never show his feelings.

Just like his father. And the father of his father.

And he never did…

Until she showed up.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N).

The very first time he’d heard her name, he sighed. Of course another reckless (Y/L/N) had lost Slytherin a handful of points… She was indeed as much trouble as her brother Jacob.

So Felix Rosier did his job as a Prefect. Lecturing her on how important House Points were. Reminding her to study for her classes. Teaching her how to duel. Helping and watching as she became one of the most amazing witches of her age.

And it wasn't until the beginning of her fourth and his seventh that Felix realized (Y/L/N) would certainly be his hardest goodbye by the end of his final school year.

The Common Room was empty when she walked in, taking a seat on the couch by his side and sighing heavily. Felix could feel his heartbeat dancing, conjuring a storm of his own feelings inside his chest. Suddenly, his brain lost interest for the pages of his heavy book. The room became too small and Merlin’s beard, why did (Y/N) had to smell so good all the time?

“You know…” She started, frowning her eyebrows. “It’s two hours past curfew. You should be asleep by now.”

Felix couldn't help but chuckle.

“You do realize… I’ve been waiting for you to come back for the past two hours and thirty minutes” He sighed “And I also just happened to watched you walk in, right?”

She smiled, wrinkling her nose.

“Thought you wouldn't miss me.” She shrugged her shoulders

“(Y/N)...” Felix forced himself to read the first line of his page for the tenth time, fighting the nauseating feeling inside his stomach. Miss her? He missed her every second his eyes couldn't find hers. “That’s never going to happen.”

How couldn’t he?

(Y/N) wasn't a princess waiting for her savior.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress.

Merlin’s beard… She managed to rescue herself from so many troubles that Felix couldn't help but feel in awe of her presence. Felix avoided her eyes, losing a battle and paying no attention to his book.

“Right. I keep forgetting the number one from your endless prefect duties: spy on me so I don’t lose house points.”

Felix fell silent. Waiting for her had nothing to do with his duties.

Her beautiful and kind eyes burned into his soul oh, so gently… Setting his entire world alight. With flames that now burned through his vein, longing for her touch.

Hoping secretly, for her safety,

Dreaming that one day - maybe. If he was good enough.

Worthy enough.

She would come to fall in love with his broken soul.

Because being good at everything had lost meaning since she came around. Seeking glory and power became nothing but a suffocating nightmare. A dream that wasn’t his anymore. Felix Rosier - a man who never believed in romance, wanted nothing more than the chaos of falling in love.

“I think I’m ready to go to bed...” Her cold hands touched his forearm gently. “See you tomorrow?”

Felix stared into her eyes for the first time since she walked in. It caused him so much pain to actually see her. To see the pain hiding behind her beautiful eyes. The heavy bags of exhaustion under them. The lack of crimson color in her cheeks, possibly from missing so many meals in the Common Room. The faded scar across your cheek...

He reached over and tucked a small strand of (Y/H/C) hair behind her ear. Felix felt the desire of pressing his lips against her soft ones.

“Congratulations on getting 50 points during Transfiguration today.” He cleaned his throat, watching as she smiled, closing her eyes. “Try not to get in trouble and lose them by tomorrow.”

Her laugh echoed inside his hollow chest and he watched as she stood up and walked away.

“Excuse me? We both know I’m the backbone of this house.” She rolled her eyes. “You are very welcome, by the way.”

And just like that… Felix Rosier, the one who never believed in romance would gladly drain the waters of every single ocean, lake and river and call it rain to wash away the pain hiding behind her painted smile.

“Goodnight, Rosier.” She winked, disappearing from his view.

“Goodnight, love of mine...” He whispered back, almost inaudibly. Running his fingers through his own hair and embracing the sweet perfume of the woman he loved, dancing inside his lungs.

And just like that, he couldn’t think about nothing but (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Longing for the chaos her soft lips could bring to his life and waiting patiently for the day he would make her, his. Because Felix Rosier would always work hard to get what he wanted. And right now he wanted nothing more than (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

#felix rosier x mc #felix rosier #felix rosier x reader #barnaby lee x reader #bill weasley x reader #charlie weasley x reader

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loverosier · 6 years

Text

Redamancy

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Felix Rosier x Female Jacob’s Sibling

SUMMARY: Years after Hogwarts, your family arranged a marriage between you and your former Prefect, Felix Rosier, who only seems to see you as a friend. Eventually, you and he must talk about the state of your relationship.

WORDS: 3,478

WARNING: Mention of death

A/N: Argg this is not my best work but I really like the arranged marriage trope/au. The og draft had so much more angst but I wasn’t feeling it so I tried to minimize it as much as I could. So here it is...semi-angst?? Anyway, thanks to all the lovely people who supported Unsubtle! :) I need to give more love to other characters so I don’t know when you’ll see a 3rd Felix fic from me (although I might write short follow up ficlets to this story).

England, at that moment, was drenched in sunlight. Peering out the window from the confines of your kitchen, you could see the willow tree’s sweeping canopy of light green leaves sway in a rhythmic manner. You reluctantly averted your gaze from the tranquil tree to pour fresh boiling water from the kettle to a cream white teapot. The teabags steeped in the hot water and soon colored it green.

You delivered the teapot and several teacups to your living room’s coffee table just as a knock sounded on the door. “Coming!” you yelled as you settled the tray on the table and rushed to the front door. When you opened it, you were welcomed by the sight of your old friend, who wasted no time to leap at you and encircle her pale arms around your figure.

At twenty-one, your blonde-haired friend looked stunning as ever. Slim, tall, and pretty, Penny was not someone you would easily miss in a crowd, especially when she was a renowned owner of a potion shop in Diagon Alley, where you sometimes stopped by on days that St. Mungo relieved you of your mediwitch duties. “Am I late? Is Rowan here yet?”

Your lips quirked upward and you shook your head. “No, don’t worry,” you said and gestured a hand towards your sofa. “Come, sit. I brewed some tea for you and baked some pastries. Rowan should be arriving soon.”

As if on cue, you heard faint rumbling and you whipped your head to the empty fireplace across the room. A few seconds later, the rumbling intensified and the fireplace burst into emerald flames. When the flames abated, two figures you recognized to be Rowan and her small daughter Alisha stepped out. Rowan dusted off the Floo powder from Alisha’s sundress and then her own clothes before moving to pull you into a tight hug. “Merlin’s beard, it feels like I haven’t seen you both in years!”

You pulled away and rolled your eyes. “It’s only been about two months, Rowan,” you said as you watched her embrace Penny. Pulling your attention from them, you spotted Alisha rooted in the same spot near the fireplace, nibbling on her fist and curiously scouring the room with her big brown eyes. You approached her and knelt to her level. “Hello, sweetheart. Would you like some sweets? I have sweets on the table.” You offered her a hand.

Alisha looked over your shoulder at her mother and back at you. Shyly, she nodded and grasped half of your hand with her tiny fingers. You stood up and lead her to the coffee table, not missing the tender smiles on both of your friends’ faces.

Rowan and Penny seated themselves around the coffee table near you and soon, you fell into a chatter about the things that happened over the last few months: Ilvermorny's teaching job offer to Rowan; Penny’s sporadic love interests; the strange injuries you’d witnessed at St. Mungo’s; and even catching up with your other friends’ lives who you hadn’t spoken to in a while because of busy schedules.

While you chat with your friends, you couldn't help but dote on Rowan’s daughter on the side. At last, the conversation shifted from Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban to you. “I still don’t understand why you don’t have children yet,” Rowan pondered out loud. “You and Felix would be such good parents, I’m sure of it.”

You gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’m a busy mediwitch and Felix . . . well, his job at the Ministry isn’t any easier.” It was true. Your differing schedules meant that you and Felix were hardly at home at the same time. Although, that wasn’t truly the reason why even two years into the marriage, you and your former Prefect remained childless.

After Felix graduated back in your third year, you’d lost contact with him, but you had heard whispers of his success and rumors that you did not have the heart to repeat. Your life at Hogwarts as a not-so-secret curse-breaker went on until you broke the curse on the last vault in your seventh year and you were hit with the harsh realization that your missing brother Jacob had been long gone.

Your family took Jacob home and buried him. And along with him, you buried any chance you had at a future of being a curse-breaker. The fire in you had diminished. You wanted to leave your past of troubles and mischief behind.

You graduated from Hogwarts and went back home, where you often walked the halls by yourself, lamenting over how lonely the house had become in your brother's definite absence. Your mother and father turned to the dark arts to cope over his death. They had never opposed the fanatical pureblood ideals in all the years you’ve known them. Now, they made it known that they wholly support it and You-Know-Who.

When you turned nineteen, they arranged a respectable marriage between you and a pureblood man: Felix Rosier, your former Prefect who you hadn’t seen in more than six years. At first, the arrangement proved to be uncomfortable for the both of you. You remembered being squeamish and him being aloof when you two were left alone to socialize in light of the engagement announcement. For a few months even after the marriage, your relationship wasn’t well, but after some time, your relationship fell into a pleasant friendship. And it has stayed that way even now.

“I hope he's treating you well.” Penny’s low voice cut through your thoughts.

“Of course,” you replied and patted Alisha’s head before facing your friends. “Felix has always treated me well. He is quite the gentleman, really. He respects my opinions and my boundaries, and he doesn’t hesitate to put my well-being above his.”

Penny looked at you and sipped on her tea. Out of all your friends, she was the only one to know that things weren’t always this way between you and Felix. Your relationship with him back at Hogwarts was that of a mentor and his successor, but after you wed, he had become cold and distant. You never knew why, but then again, you never set to find out

“Do you love him?” Rowan asked, and her question caught you off-guard that you almost froze in your seat.

When you didn’t speak, Rowan began to stutter out an apology. “No, don’t apologize. I was just reflecting. Felix and I are good friends, so of course I love him, but I know that’s not want you meant to ask,” you said. “I’ll admit . . . I love him. I find myself wanting to spend more time with him.”

“Does he know?” Rowan asked. You stared at your hands folded on your lap and sighed.

“He doesn’t.” He could not know. How could you tell him when he has never given you a reason to do it? Many purebloods married to keep their line pure. More often than not, their marriage was devoid of love. You and Felix were just another statistic to this fact.

Penny and Rowan must’ve sensed the discomfort in your voice. After the silence your reply entailed, you returned to discussing Sirius Black. Before long, the sun turned golden and painted the sky a blend of yellow, bright orange, and red. Alisha had dozed off with her head on your lap and her short legs sprawled on the sofa. After several minutes, Rowan took the sleeping Alisha from your lap and into her arms and prepared to bid you a goodbye.

“You better come and visit me before you move to America,” you said to Rowan, who replied with a “of course!” She tossed Floo powder into the fireplace and the same emerald flames from before came into view. Rowan cradled Alisha in her arms and flashed you a smile before she yelled the name of her residence. The fires engulfed her and she disappeared.

“I guess I should go, too. I need to head home soon,” Penny said. She slung her bag over her shoulder and turned to you with her arms spread wide. You grinned and let her arms envelop you. While in her arms, she whispered to you, her lips almost brushing against your earlobes: “You should tell him. You never know, he could be feeling the same way.”

You pulled away and shook your head. “And if he doesn’t? I’m afraid that it would ruin the friendship we’ve built, Penny. I’ll keep my feelings to myself. Our friendship is good enough for me.”

Penny wordlessly took your hand in hers and squeezed it. You wished she could stay; she has always been there for you in your loneliest times. You knew that once she was gone, you would be back to being alone in this big house until your husband returned from the Ministry.

Penny raised two fingers to her forehead in a salute and disapparated. Just like that, the house was silent again. You gazed out of the window that overlooked a whole field of wild white and lavender flowers and caught sight of the same willow tree you were admiring in the kitchen. Its drooping branches and leaves swayed less now. You read in a book once that the willow tree gives hope, safety, and a sense of belonging. You hadn’t felt that in a while.

As you turned away, your last words to Penny echoed in your head. Is it really enough? the voice in your head was faint, but it rang loud and clear in your mind.

To pass the time, you decided to clean the library. When Felix left the Rosier manor and insisted that the two of you to live by yourselves in this house, you’d opposed to having house-elves. There was no reason to have them when both of you kept your home neat and orderly in your spare time. Besides, you had no children.

You walked into the library with a feather duster in hand. As you cleared the surface of the mahogany table at the center of the room, you knocked over a shallow box. It fell and envelopes poured out onto the floor. You quickly knelt to pick them up.

Most of the envelopes were browning and some were torn open while some remained sealed. You examined the writings in the back of the envelopes. All of them had stamps and the penmanship was elegant. They were all addressed to Felix Rosier, and the return address was written at the top left corner below a woman’s name—a name that was familiar but you could not remember.

“YN?” the voice startled you. You looked over your shoulder to see Felix towering over your kneeling figure. You saw his eyes shift from you to the envelopes in your hands. With light and slow strides, Felix came to your side and started picking them off the floor and into the shallow box. You inhaled his scent—an aroma of coffee and bread. He must’ve stopped by a coffee shop in Diagon Alley on his way back.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured and helped you to your feet. “I haven’t had time to dispose of them,” he said. You, however, did not take notice of his words. You were too occupied with searching your mind for any mention of that woman and trying to attach a memory to her name.

Cool fingers lightly touched your arm. You blinked and found yourself mesmerized by Felix’s warm chestnut brown eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“The writer of the letters,” you said, stumbling over your words, “who’s she?”

Felix retracted his fingers, cleared his throat and fiddled with the knot of his necktie. In almost two years you’ve been his wife, you came to identify this behavior as his way of showing that he was nervous. Whether he was aware of that or not was a mystery to you.

“She was my girlfriend,” he said after some hesitation, “before I married you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You remembered where you’d heard that name from now. You had heard it from the lips of a gossip in Diagon Alley.

When you and Felix wed, the wizarding world watched the two of you with careful eyes through the newspapers. You were Jacob’s sister, a pureblood witch famous in your own right for opening the cursed vaults, and Felix was one of the wealthy yet tarnished Rosier family’s heirs. The union certainly elicited some gossip, and one of them that you heard was that Felix was romantically involved with a woman, and his betrothal to you forced him to break it off.

What a horrible thing, you thought. Is that why he was so cold to me when we married?

“Do you still talk to her?” What you meant to ask was if he still loved her, but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth.

“No,” he said with seemingly no hesitation and walked past you to reorganize the surface of the mahogany table. “I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

“Oh.”

Silence reigned in the room until Felix, with his back turned against you, said, “You should go to bed. It is late and I don’t want you to wake up in the morning exhausted. I will take care of the library.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. You stared at his back. Although he said he no longer had contact with her, you felt unease and doubt creeping in. You were his wife but did he love you like he loved her? Could he love you like that? Deep down, you guessed the answer, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Do not worry about me, YN,” he said reassuringly. Still, he did not face you.

There was an impulse, a sudden urge for you to open your mouth and say something, but you only clenched your jaws tight. You decided then that maybe you’ll take Penny’s advice, but not at this moment.

With a final look, you left the library and headed to the bedroom you shared with him. Having already changed into your sleeping clothes earlier, you laid comfortably on one side of the big, cold bed and draped thin sheets over your body. The clock ticked as you laid still, waiting for Felix to open the door and lay by your side.

You stayed awake for what must have been hours, but he never came. Soon, your eyelids became too heavy. You looked outside and saw the bright stars that dotted the night sky gaze back. Then, the darkness welcomed you.

You slowly opened your eyes and propped your body on your elbows. The night sky greeted your sight first. Behind the translucent curtain and glass door leading to the balcony, the silver moon and stars shined bright. It could’ve had you in a trance if only soft snoring did not pull you from its enchantment. You jerked your head to the sound of the snore and found your eyes fixated on your husband.

A sudden realization occurred to you. Yesterday—the day after Penny and Rowan visited—you’d fallen asleep on the sofa after a tiring day at work. You didn’t recall waking up and coming up to your bedroom.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Did he carry me here?

Felix slept on his side, his body facing you. His chest rose and fell slowly and his lips parted to let out the soft snores you heard. Even in the dim lighting, you could make out his sharp cheekbones and jaws that you wanted to trace with your thumb. You inclined your head towards his and hovered your hand above his face. Your fingers lingered centimeters above his cheek before you sighed and untangled your body from the thin blanket.

The floor was cold underneath your bare feet as you strolled towards the balcony, running a hand along the smooth marble balustrade. The summer night air was chilly, but your body was still warm from sleeping under a blanket and being so intimately close to Felix so it did not bother you. In the distance were silhouettes of houses and trees, and the crickets filled the night with their song. You leaned onto the balustrade and breathed in. The sullen night soothed you, and you closed your eyes to familiarize yourself more with it and to get lost in your thoughts.

You kept them close for a while, even when you heard the glass door slide open, even when you shivered from the cold, and even when his footsteps stopped some unknown distance behind you. “It’s cold out here. You should come back to bed,” Felix said.

You made no sound. There were footsteps again, and then there were none. You only opened your eyes when you felt him drape a thin yet cozy blanket over your body. Felix stood beside you, his back straight. His hands were clasped together behind his back and his eyes were aimed at the night sky. He noticed that he did not wear his glasses tonight.

“Something on your mind?” he asked a few moments later. You looked away from him.

“Just thinking,” you said and pulled on the blanket to wrap your body tighter.

“I can tell that it’s troubling you. You can trust me, YN.”

“I know,” you replied and reflected on his words. Almost as low as a whisper, you asked, “Do you resent me?” You felt Felix freeze beside you.

“For what?”

Your mouth suddenly became dry so you swallowed before you continued, “They made you leave her for me. At least, that’s what I heard.”

“Oh,” Felix gave a soft sigh. You felt his eyes burning through you. “The past is in the past. I don’t hate you, although I do admit that I was too cold to you at first. For that, I am truly sorry. It was never your fault.”

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you said and looked at him under your lashes. There it was again: a question burning at the back of your throat, itching to come out, and Felix sensed it.

“There’s something more you want to say,” he stated.

Sometimes you hated how easily he could read you. You heaved a sigh before you began, “Can you . . . can you ever learn to love me? I know we married because of convenience, but . . .”

He didn’t say anything, and somehow, it felt like a thousand needles piercing your skin with heavy force. “Never mind, sorry, that was a foolish thing to ask,” you said quickly with a nervous laugh.

“No, just unexpected,” Felix finally spoke. “You are so brilliant, did you know?” he murmured, “Sometimes I wonder why you allowed yourself to marry me. I have never been a good husband to you.”

You frowned. “Hey, that’s not true.”

He only responded with silence. Somehow, you knew that what you said didn’t reassure him.

A few moments passed and you shivered more even under the blanket. The night wasn’t turning out well, and you wanted to sleep it away. “You’re right, Felix. It is cold. We better come back to bed.” You turned to leave, but Felix caught your wrist. The sudden gesture almost made you let go of the blanket.

“Wait, I never answered your question,” he said.

“Oh, listen, you don’t really need to—”

“Please, I think you’d want to know.” His brown eyes were serious and pleading, and gentle like his grip on you. “I can learn to love you, but if I’m being honest, I think I already have.”

That took you by surprise. “You have?”

“For a while now, I keep finding myself thinking of your laughter and smile. I will not lie and say that it didn’t make me smile too,” he said. “I didn’t know how to tell you. For two years, we have been treating each other as friends, not lovers. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

He was doing exactly the same thing as you! You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, and Felix shot you a confused look. “It’s just that . . . well, you’re also describing me and my feelings,” you said.

Felix smiled and let go of your wrist. “I guess we’re an odd couple.”

“I suppose,” you said and mirrored his expression.

Felix closed some spaced between the two of you and cupped your chin gently. “If I may, Mrs. Rosier . . . I would like to make you smile and laugh. I would like us to love each other, the way it should have been.”

You stared into his brown eyes and for the first time in a long time, you felt hope, safety, and a sense of belonging. Just like that beautiful willow tree that you admired. “That would be lovely, Mr. Rosier.”

[Hey guys! I’m trying to really improve my writing so feedback on any of my fics is very appreciated!]

#felix rosier #felix rosier x reader #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery #hphm #fanfics #my fanfics #penny haywood #rowan khanna

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kikyozoldyck · 6 years

Text

i. two wrongs, no right

PAIRING: felix rosier x jacob’s sibling

SUMMARY: this isn’t what you wanted to happen and that’s not what he’d meant to say

Felix is sat in front of the fire, engrossed in a heavy text on the holistic principals of magical Mediterranean plants, when he becomes aware of your presence across the room. (Although he must admit, he is always acutely aware of your presence.)

“I thought, you were going to Hogsmeade with Rowan and the Weasley boy,” he says, his dark eyes following your long, graceful strides.

“His name is Bill,” you laugh, stopping in front of him, “and I was until I realized that I was on a date with them when I could be on a date with you.”

“Right, Bill.” He repeats bitterly, doing his best to ignore the acidic taste the name leaves in his mouth.

“What have you been doing all night?” you ask, with a sway of your hips that anyone else would mistake as innocent, “Besides missing me, of course”

He tells you, “Some light reading,” and gestures to the thick book in his hands

“I think you need to rethink your definition of light, darling.” you scold in good humor, gently tugging the book away from him, conscientiously marking his place before you shut it.

“My Herbology O.W.L. is on Wednesday,” Felix says as you put your hands on his shoulders and settle in his lap, one knee pressed against the outside of each of his thighs.

Without a thought his arms come up to your waist, steadying you. "You work too hard." You tell him for the millionth time since you’ve known him.

"It’s almost as though I care about my future," he says wryly as you brush the curve of his cheekbone with the tip of your nose, laughing softly.

"I bet you know that book back to front." You tease, pressing a soft kiss against the apple of his cheek.

He doesn't contradict you. You smile, drawing yourself closer until your lips are only a fraction of an inch away from his. "And I bet I could make you forget," you add, so quietly that if he were a centimeter farther he might have missed it.

Then, you kiss him, finally, and quite gently, then again, and again. When you draw back, he leans forward automatically, chasing your mouth. (Felix wonders, a little despairingly, and not for the first time, who taught you to kiss like this. He's thought about asking, but never actually has; thinking of you kissing someone else leaves him testy and brooding.)

"I doubt it. I have an excellent memory," he tells you, and he can feel the warmth of your breathy laugh on his face. One of your hands slides down from his shoulder to tilt his chin up, then skims down his throat and fists lightly in his tie. Felix feels a pleasant shiver roll down his spine, and then your mouth at his collar, curving into a smirk.

Out of a mix of love, lust, and pure impulse he digs his fingers into your waist. The next thing he knows, you’re yelping in pain and shoving his hands back to him.

He can’t help the awful way his voice breaks when he says your name, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Only now that he’s looking at you, really looking, can he see the sweat collecting at your brow and the glassiness in your eyes, “I’m fine, really.”

“You’re not,” He whispers, cautiously placing his hands where they were before.

“Felix…” You choke out as he gently pushes his hands under your shirt, cold fingers coming in contact with your bare skin, “Don’t.”

He lifts your shirt, revealing the bruise blossoming across your abdomen. It’s large and tender, coloring around your naval and up your side a deep, awful purple.

“It looks worse than it is,” he hears you tell him, “Nothing serious. Just a bruise. A large, painful one, but still just a bruise.”

He can practically hear the wheels in your head turning, trying to produce an acceptable lie, but the truth hits him harder than any knockback jinx. (Though, he’s not entirely sure why he hadn’t pieced it together before: why else would you and Rowan have skipped supper? Why else would you be out with Bill fucking Weasley?) “I thought we agreed you were done with the vaults.” He says, in the voice, you dubbed his ‘prefect tone’. You huff defiantly at him and climb out of his lap, the moment clearly over.

And you laugh but it’s angry and defensive, devoid of any of the melody and joy Felix loves so much, and snap, “No, Felix, you agreed I was done with the vaults!”

“Because you are going to get yourself expelled! Or worse,” Felix stands up, grinding his teeth, “dead!"

“I can take care of myself, Felix!”

He laughs, humorless and cruel, “No, you can’t! I mean, Merlin’s beard! Look at yourself!”

“I don’t expect you to understand-“

“-You’re right I don’t!”

“-But I need to find my brother!” You tell him, your voice shaking from behind your teeth.

Both of your voices have been gradually increasing in volume. Felix drops his, saying quietly, but no less venomously, “Jacob is gone and he’s never coming back.”

The expression on your face alone is enough to make him realize immediately that he’s made a huge mistake: it looks the same as it did the day Rowan had ended up in the infirmary after breaking into the Ice Vault, which is to say in a single word, broken. (He'd spent all night huddled up next to you by the fire, promising you over and over again Rowan would be fine, before tucking you into bed with a cup of hot, sweet tea with a gentle kiss on your forehead.)

You suck in a harsh breath, opening your mouth to reply, no doubt with something equally as poisonous, but instead, you turn and silently walk out of the common room.

He thinks about calling you back to him. (About begging your forgiveness. About forgiving your recklessness.) But he doesn’t instead he stays planted on the couch and tries distracting himself with the proper preparation of gillyweed.

Then, when hours later, you still haven't returned, he leaves too.

#angst #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #felix rosier x reader #felix rosier #hogwarts mystery

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felixweek2k18 · 6 years

Text

We hear ya!

Jazzy and I were talking in our discord chat about the positivity we were receiving and I couldn’t help but go ahead and say something about this!

First and foremost, you guys have no idea how much this means to us! I’m speaking for Jazzy here but to see the response coming from all of you is something we would never have anticipated! And yes, I am talking about the reblogs, replies, likes, and the tags! Oh gosh the tags!

Excuse me for a while but I had to screenshot the tags as it really made our day! Is it weird to say that we’ve fan girled a little bit whenever we see tags?

Anyway, as I have mentioned time and time again, we are sooo looking forward to your creations and we can’t wait for this event.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for spreading the word, thank you for the positivity and thank you for giving this event a chance!

Keep on spreading the word, people! 😘

-Alia

#harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts mystery #felix rosier week #felixweek2k18 #spread the positivity #felix rosier #thank you so much!#hphm #jacob’s sibling #MC #you guys have no idea how much this means to me!#hphm felix rosier #felix rosier x jacob's sibling

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benscursedkid · 2 years

Note

hello! it's been awhile~

i saw your holiday prompt andddddd

yes, may i request prompt number 20 for Diana and Felix (yet again, yes) where Diana stays at Hogwarts after knowing the reason why Felix doesn't go back to the Rosier Manor for Christmas? ( Rosier Manor? does that even exist? let's just pretend it does <3)

if you no longer take requests, then it's fine! you can ignore this ask and pretend it didn't happen!

20. “you’ve been ranting about your family’s holiday celebrations since october and you seemed really excited but you found out i’m staying at hogwarts by myself and decided to stay with me wow i like you”

They were playing wizard’s chess. Diana hates wizard’s chess. But, as unlikely as she is to admit it to his face—at least, not yet—Diana likes Felix. And Felix likes wizard’s chess.

You see where this is going, right?

Still, Felix did not go easy on her. This is their second rematch and as much as it may pain her pride Diana will not be asking for a third. At that point all the losing is more painful. Time to cut her losses and all that.

“Shouldn’t you be packing?” Diana asks after a long pause, doing her best to just get this match over with. Her shoulders are slightly hunched over the table and her chin rests in her palm as Felix contemplated his next move.

“Shouldn’t you be winning?” Felix quips back, a small smirk lifting the corners of his mouth as he takes another one of her pawns. “Or at least not losing this badly.”

Diana pulls a face at him and carelessly moves a piece on the board. “Seriously, though. You don’t have much time left. Train departs tomorrow morning, Felix.”

Another one of her pawns captured. Felix shifts slightly in his seat across from her. “Well, maybe that’s because I’ve decided to stay here for the holidays. Train fare is horrible these days, anyway.” He waves the awful lie off with a dismissive hand but Diana does anything but write it off.

“What? Why? You never stay at school for the holidays.”

“My, someone’s perceptive.” He comments dryly but at Diana’s look he sighs, their game of chess forgotten. “Look, truthfully my residence has never been the most…festive place, nor are my parents very festive people so I thought that I would stay here this year. It’s really not as big a deal as it may seem.”

“Really? The Rosier Manor isn’t bursting with charm and holiday cheer? Color me surprised.” Diana teases, though her tone is a little flat, as though her statement held something else beneath it.

Felix shrugs casually, but even his casual looks elegant and holds a practiced grace. “Mother prefers the word ‘mansion’ these days. She says she’s trying to modernize.”

“Cute, but totally not the point.” Diana sighs and pushes the chess board to the side to rest her elbows on the table. Felix’s eyes flash to them but quickly retreat at her flat look. When she speaks again, her tone is hushed and much softer than it was before. “Felix, are you sure that’s the only reason?”

He looks up at her like a scolded child. He clears his throat, trying to shake it off but Diana can count on one hand the amount of times she’s seen him look that small. “It’s…not exactly a fun place to be, Diana, even at the best of times. It’s cold and dark and the entire place feels like an empty cardboard box with seventeen rooms and only three people living in it. Is that what you want to hear?”

Diana’s brows pinch together in concern, her expression a twisted mix of pity and sympathy. “Why didn’t you ever say this before? Why wait until now to decide to stay here?”

“To answer your first question,” Felix arches a brow and Diana flushes just slightly at the callout. “It was never relevant before. It’s not like it’s a good icebreaker for casual conversation. Secondly,” he gestures vaguely with his hands in detached frustration. “By this time next year we’ll have graduated and become contributing, independent members of society. I suppose I thought this was long overdue. My father certainly wasn’t happy about it but it’s not his decision anymore. And I’m tired of letting him control mine.”

“And you’re okay with that?” She asks, doing everything in her power not to reach forward for his hand. “Because the castle will be just as empty as your house. You know that, don’t you?”

“Anywhere is better than there.”

“And what if…what if I stayed here with you?”

Felix pauses, looking at her in pure bewilderedness. Confusion is written all across his face as he sends her a slightly disbelieving look. “I can’t ask you to do that for me, Diana. You’ve been talking about your holiday plans since Halloween.”

And dammit, she loses the fight with herself, reaching across the table to grab his hand. She refuses to look at their hands, sitting on the table right in front of them. Looking at it will make it serious. Heavy. It must remain casual. Friendly.

“You’re my friend, Felix. I have forever to spend time with my family, but I’d hate for you to trade one misery for another. It’s the least I can do.”

Felix’s eyes soften as he looks from her face to their hands and he clears his throat again, looking away with a deepening blush on his cheeks. “Yes,” he rasps and his blush deepens. He clears his throat again and Diana suppresses a giggle. “I suppose it is, isn’t it.”

“Don’t push it.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #holiday prompts #felix rosier #hphm mc #hphm jacob’s sibling #jacob’s sibling #diana venera #felix x mc #felix rosier x mc #felix x diana #felix rosier x diana venera #seasonal prompts #hp holiday prompts #exert

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eleanorsayreplays · 4 years

Photo

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #jacob's sibling #felix rosier #felix x mc #slytherin

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domaslut · 1 year

Text

MC spilling tea.

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aria-xue · 5 years

Text

Happy (Late) New Year

I barely draw Barnaby so I thought I’d do something special! I wanted to post this on the first but didn’t get a chance to. sorry!

Good luck in 2019! I love all of you guys!

#hogwarts mystery #barnaby x mc #barnaby lee #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #jacob’s sibling #new years #2019 #here starts the vaguely related tags:#andre egwu #tulip karasu #felix rosier #chester davies #original character #penny haywood #hphm #jane court

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lara-kaminari · 4 years

Text

Pumpkin Plant

Chester es meticuloso, calculador, le gusta tener todo en su lugar. Lamentablemente, la presencia de una chica conocida cambia todo lo establecido en su vida.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500024/chapters/64583131

Pairings: Chester/MC, Felix/MC

Chapter 1: Pergamino de color rosa pastel.

La vida de Chester Davies solía ser tranquila, en lo que cabe. Tenía una vida organizada, meticulosa, con cada elemento en su lugar y eso le gustaba. No se privaba de ningún placer en particular, disfrutaba del alcohol como todos, el buen sexo y demás. Nada de eso interfería en sus deberes en la Oficina del Uso Incorrecto de la Magia en el Ministerio, era un excelente mago y su vida llevaba un rumbo excelente.

Hasta ese día.

Las señales estaban allí, debió sentirlo en el aire, en el murmullo de la gente. Es ahora cuando se pregunta: ¿Cómo pudo ser tan ciego? Pero su destino había sido sellado, como un sobre extraoficial repleto de sellos e indicaciones de tinta roja. Camina hasta su oficina, poco tendría que importarle los chismes de la oficina, ¿acaso no están allí para trabajar?

—Chester. —Llamó Félix, pasando su brazo sobre los hombros del chico.

—Rosier. —Respondió con una sonrisa.

—Te ves tranquilo, imagino que eres ajeno a las recientes noticias.

—¿Por qué debería tomarlas en cuenta?

—Te involucran.

Chester se detiene, Félix quita su brazo de encima y lo mira con una ceja levantada. Davies está experimentando una sensación nueva, es el terror y el odio recorriendo sus venas, ¿acaso los directivos han tomado una decisión respecto a su trabajo que no se le ha informado de antemano?

—No te despedirán. —Aseguró Félix.

—Serían unos tontos si lo hicieran.

—Pero es peor, mucho peor.

—Ve al punto, ¿será una reducción de sueldo? ¿tendré que hacer recortes en el personal? ¿el departamento recibirá menos presupuesto?

—La sorpresa está en tu oficina, yo no puedo involucrarme. —Respondió Félix, levantando sus hombros. —Soy un Auror, iré a hacer lo mío.

—Te odio.

—Escríbeme después.

Se mantuvo frío y servicial mientras caminaba en dirección a su oficina, no permitiría que un par de rumores tontos lo confundieran. Puede encargarse de lo que sea, es bueno negociando; tiene que pensar en eso cuando su mano toca la perilla de la puerta y la gira más lentamente de lo que le gustaría.

Allí está su jefe, ¿le preocupa? No, tienen buena relación. Chester ha demostrado ser uno de sus empleados más competentes en el departamento, ¿a qué le teme? Claro, a la otra presencia en la habitación. Es una mujer joven, tan joven que parece apenas haber terminado sus estudios en Hogwarts.

No es sólo la juventud lo que llama su atención porque, además de que reconoce a la chica, ella está vestida de una manera algo... Estrafalaria. El cabello recogido y poco ordenado está decorado con diminutas flores de todos los colores, su ropa pareciera haber sido escogida por un artista daltónico, ¿ese es su mejor intento por verse elegante? ¿por qué está usando tantos colores? ¿quién usa una falda larga con zapatillas acordonadas? Sólo ella, por supuesto. La única, la inigualable, la perfecta curse-breaker de Hogwarts.

—Davies, te presento a tu nueva compañera. —Anunció su jefe. —MC está aquí para servirte y ayudar en las tareas que puedas darle.

Chester parpadeó varias veces, intentando despertar de esa pesadilla.

—¿Puedo hablar con usted? Sólo un segundo, sin ella presente.

Gracias a Merlín que él aceptó, de cualquier manera, sentía que podía charlar aun con la chica allí porque ella parecía muy entretenida con los elementos del escritorio. ¿Acaso nadie le enseñó a mantener sus manos alejadas de las pertenencias ajenas? No, todo estará bien. Hablará con su jefe y llegará a un acuerdo satisfactorio.

—No la quiero aquí. —Dijo Chester rápidamente.

—Su padre tiene muchas influencias...

—Al diablo con su papi, ¿por qué no se va a otro departamento? Se viste como un maldito circo y arruinará nuestra imagen.

—Su padre la quiere trabajando aquí específicamente, ¿por qué no le pides a ella que te cuente la historia? La encontrarás hilarante.

—Amablemente solicito que...

—Es tarde, tendrás que acostumbrarte a su presencia.

Entonces... Sí, su destino ha sido marcado por una mujer indeseada. ¿Puede acostumbrarse al repentino cambio en su vida? Probablemente necesite mucho café y whisky de fuego, el suficiente para hundir los malos pensamientos. En tanto regresa a su oficina, se encarga de analizar cada detalle de la chica. ¿Por qué tuvo que ser MC? La conoce, o la conocía, fue su prefecto en Hogwarts y ella siempre se metía en problemas que le dificultaban la vida.

—Tiempo sin verte, Chester. —Dijo MC, jugueteando con sus collares de cuentas.

—“Señor Davies”, vamos a dejar ciertas pautas en claro.

—Claro, “Señor Davies”. —Corrigió MC con una risa divertida. —Supongo que te estarás preguntando por qué estoy aquí.

—Sería útil tener una explicación adecuada.

—Es una larga historia, ¿cómo te lo explico? —MC levantó sus piernas en la silla y las cruzó, provocando un gruñido molesto en su nuevo jefe. —Resulta que tengo dieciocho años y estoy en la edad ideal para casarme, ¿puedes creerlo? Es una especie de tradición familiar o algo así, entonces... Tengo que buscar un buen candidato y sé quién es el ideal, se lo comenté a mi padre y... Aquí estoy, intentando ganarme el corazón de quien podría ser mi nuevo esposo.

—No, no lo entiendo.

—Estoy enamorada de Félix Rosier, desde Hogwarts, así que estoy trabajando en el Ministerio para tener más posibilidades de conocerlo y que se enamore de mí o tendré que casarme con otro pretencioso pretendiente rico. —Explicó MC. —No era exactamente mi plan terminar en tu oficina, pero la vida trabaja de maneras misteriosas y sé que tú eres un buen amigo suyo.

—Lo que me estás diciendo es que hiciste una llamada rápida a papi para que cumpla tus caprichos y...

—Espera, espera, espera. —Interrumpió MC, agitando sus manos y creando un tintineo por el contacto de sus brazaletes. —No tengo esa clase de relación con mi padre, ¡estoy obligada a casarme! Así que, si estoy en esos términos, me gustaría que fuera con alguien que me guste.

—¿En serio crees tener una oportunidad con Félix Rosier? ¿Te has visto en el espejo? Él es uno de los sangre puras más aclamados, su familia forma parte de los Sagrado Veintiocho y la mayoría de las mujeres están detrás suyo por su fortuna abundante.

—No me interesa el dinero.

—Claro, tu papi debe darte el suficiente.

—De hecho, mi padre nunca me ha mantenido. —Confesó MC con simpleza. —Vivo sola con mi propio dinero, no tengo mucho y probablemente me echen a la calle en unos meses, pero...

—Excesivos detalles que nunca te pedí.

—¿Puedes ayudarme? Por favor. —Suplicó MC juntando sus cejas y haciendo una expresión de pena. —Sólo necesito conquistarlo y casarme con él, desapareceré de tu vida en cuanto todo haya terminado.

—Bien, te organizaré una cita con él y...

—¡Así no! Yo tengo que hacer el trabajo, tú sólo deberías darme la información correcta para que pueda acercarme.

—¿Es una maldita danza de apareamiento o qué? Nos llevará toda la vida.

—Lo lamento, son mis reglas. —Sentenció MC, cruzándose de brazos. —No quiero que Félix sepa aun sobre mis sentimientos hacia él, eso provocará un rechazo absoluto.

Chester suspiró hastiado, apenas esa mañana las estrellas estaban en perfecta posición, ¿qué es este peculiar desastre de la naturaleza? Comienza a hacer cálculos, es bueno haciendo cálculos, esta ardua tarea le llevará un par de simples meses y nada más que eso. Conoce a Félix, sus actividades, lo que le gusta y disgusta, será sencillo. Su vida volverá a la normalidad en cuanto ella se vaya lejos, entonces el equilibrio ecológico de su existencia se restaurará.

—De acuerdo, pero esto seguirá siendo una tarea del trabajo.

—Suena bien para mí.

Ella agitó su varita, en diagonal a su posición frente al escritorio de Chester, hizo aparecer su propia estación de trabajo. Una mesa con volados blancos, brillos en la tela que la cubría y plumas de colores chillones, incluso los pergaminos tenían un aniñado color rosa pastel. Chester se masajeó el puente de la nariz, suplicando a Merlín que su martirio acabara para volver a la agradable rutina que lo reconfortaba.

Si MC se queda en silencio, sólo escribiendo y atendiendo los tediosos archivos, puede acostumbrarse a su presencia. Entre tanto, se concentrará en mover los hilos que facilitarán un final a esa historia.

—Mira, dibujé un perrito. —Dijo MC, levantando su pergamino rosado con una sonrisa, enseñando su obra de arte.

Será más difícil de lo que pensó.

#harry potter: hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #harry potter #jacob's sibling #felix rosier #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #felix rosier x reader #chester davies #chester davies x mc #chester davies x jacob's sibling

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

Text

Necessary Monsters (6/16)

A/N: Well, as of recent game updates, my story is now AU. I considered rewriting this chapter, and I do reserve the right to go back and change it later to keep to canon. But for now, I'd like this chapter to stand in memory of a character that had no business dying (looking at you, JC).

Summary: "I need a favor." "You what?" "Don't be a prick." "Oh, off to a champion start, you are."

The only thing worse than an alarm clock is an enchanted alarm clock. Felix is sure the squat, tin object takes malicious pleasure in stabbing him to consciousness with its incessant brrrring. He groans and slaps a hand in the direction of the trunk currently serving as a bedside table, but the clock dances away from Felix's outstretched fingers, its shrill ring sounding suspiciously like laughter. Groping about in the dark for his wand, Felix waves it at the clock, now doing an ungainly jig beside the bed, and it falls forward onto its flat face in disgruntled silence.

Stumbling to the wardrobe, Felix pulls out shirt, jumper, and trousers without looking, then stares about him in the darkness for his boots. The outline of one peeks from under the foot of his camp bed, and he trips over the other on his way toward it. Sprawled across the floor, all sense of urgency knocked from him, Felix fumbles for the treacherous shoes and tugs them on with heavy fingers. He reminds himself he's only 22, which is far too young to be this ornery about his turn at night-shift. He knows the one week a month of reversed sleep cycle, and the impish alarm clock that comes with it, aren't the real reason his nerves are on tenterhooks. But they certainly don't help.

Still spread-eagle on the cold, rough wood, Felix allows his eyes to fall closed as he sends up a silent prayer to whatever entity is responsible for managing his cosmic affairs: Please, please let it come today, he thinks, over and over again, until sleep begins to trickle back through his veins.

As the breathing of its current master deepens and slows, the alarm clock rights itself and toddles across the floor towards his ear. It rubs its hands together in undisguised glee.

The Romanian Reserve is not at all what Felix had expected. It reminds him of what he always imagined work in an office would be like: shifts and staff meetings and performance reviews. In Peru, Felix's schedule was set by the sun or the activity of the dragons he tracked. Here, he flicks his wand over a time card in the main building and marches past the hall of tiny rooms to the cramped office where the equipment is stored, and which he has to share with the Senior Dragonologist for the Peruvian Vipertooth.

Luis Rashbold takes up almost the entire closet-sized room. Leaning back in the only chair with his feet propped on the small desk, both pieces of furniture creaking in distress, he dictates his report to a typewriter clicking away on its own. He's only a decade older than Felix, but full of the self-assurance that comes with being one of the youngest researchers to achieve a senior position.

Felix reaches across the desk and snatches the paper from the typewriter, glancing over the events of the day.

"Any change?" he asks Rashbold without looking up from the parchment.

"None. That she-dragon of yours is still hell-bent on getting to Alicanto before the mating season ends. But it shouldn’t last much longer. The summer's half gone."

Sharp pangs constrict Felix's chest at the reminder, but he breathes through them.

"The rotation started over today, didn't it? Who do we have this month?"

Rashbold flicks his dark ponytail back over his shoulder. "Lambton. And do try and go easy on the lad, the healer quit this morning. "

"You're joking. He hasn't been here a fortnight!"

"I've known shorter," Rashbold shrugs unconcernedly.

"And the one before that only got here a few weeks before I did." Felix steps around the desk, carefully avoiding Rashbold's dirt-crusted shoes. "Is the job jinxed or something?" he asks as he lifts the fireproof gauntlets and chest-plate from their hooks on the wall, eyeing the sweat stains on the inside of the equipment with distaste.

"Doubt it," replies Rashbold, sliding another piece of paper into the typewriter. "Most people just aren't cut out for dragons." He catches Felix muttering a cleaning spell under his breath and shakes his head.

Felix pulls the chest-plate over his jumper, glancing at the papers scattered across the desk.

"Did the post come yet?" he asks with a practiced nonchalance that does not fool the older man one bit. Rashbold cracks a wicked grin.

"Sorry, nothing from your secret admirer. What's it been, a fortnight now?" As always, heat rises in Felix's face unbidden, and Rashbold's grin becomes a laugh. "Too bad you didn't pick the Fireball, mate. Your face would make excellent camouflage."

Felix stomps from the room, cheeks still bright red. Rashbold's infuriating laughter follows him down the hall.

Disappointment begins its natural evolution into bitter anger as Felix strides quickly out of the building's backdoor and down the gravel path. He wastes a few minutes wishing apparition was permitted on the Reserve. It's only a twenty minute walk to the Vipertooths' habitat, which is practically nothing; it takes the Horntail dragonologists an hour to get to their plot, housed at the very back of the Reserve. But work is the only thing keeping Felix sane just at present. Each minute of silent walking is a minute he cannot stop his brain sliding into anxious thoughts about what might be happening to Juniper so many miles away.

When Felix first arrived, Juniper's letters, while abysmally short, had at least been consistent. No longer half a world apart, Felix received her owls almost every other day, a privilege he had been denied for many years and did not take for granted. He could tell by her wobbly and often unintelligible penmanship, Juniper's hands had not yet improved enough to make writing an easy task. Nor had her attempts to charm her quill into writing for her been successful either, she explained in her first letter, since she couldn't hold her wand steady enough to cast anything. But after being discharged from St Mungo's and purchasing a quill that took dictation from Flourish and Blotts, her letters were once again full of news: How she had been excused from end-of-year exams; how she still had no memory of her attack or attackers; how Dumbledore had insisted she spend the summer at the Khanna tree farm, an out of the way country house with many magical protections surrounding it.

Felix got the distinct impression from her letters that Juniper was frustrated with the decisions being made for her. She had been expressly forbidden from leaving the Khanna property, except for regular visits to St Mungo's, and Dumbledore and the auror, Moody, checked in on her frequently. But Juniper offered no further information about her protection detail or her recovery. As always, she kept her letters to questions and comments about Felix's new life in Romania, though even those seemed more careless with each owl. Then the frequency of her letters dipped. By the end of July, they had stopped coming at all.

Worry now keeps Felix in a constant state of nerves. He's sure someone would have contacted him if something had happened to Juniper; another attack or a sudden relapse. He remembers Snape's warning about uncharacteristic behavior, and more than once has sat down at his desk with the intention of consulting the Slytherin Head of House. But he isn't sure if a mere lack of correspondence qualifies as unusual, particularly in light of her condition. It's entirely possible Juniper is simply too busy, with her recovery and her other friends, to keep up with their new fast-paced writing schedule. Still, the vacuum of silence he's left in without her letters makes him edgier with each passing day.

Work is the only relief Felix has from the continual parade of worries and what-ifs. And today's arrival of the new junior assistant, a position that rotates between different species on a monthly basis, ensures Felix has no extra brain space to think of anything except keeping the nervous young man alive and relatively unhurt.

Ten hours later, dripping with sweat, dirt, and blood, Felix trudges slowly back across the Reserve just as the sun peeks over the horizon. Pulling off his gauntlets and stretching his sore muscles, he waits for the ever-present torment to reassert itself. The desperation to hear from Juniper, even just a few quick lines to know she's alright and hasn't forgotten him, is a physical ache nothing will soothe. Two weeks is long enough to be objectively concerned, he decides. The time has come to send an inquiry.

Debating which of her many friends to write to, Felix is startled to hear his name being called from somewhere ahead of him. He focuses on the figure in the foreground: a tall, muscular man, though that describes most of the dragonologists here, but with the addition of a cowboy hat, which can only mean one person.

"Hey there, Rosier!"

"Grahame," Felix inclines his head wearily at the Reserve's resident American, who trots toward him with an irrepressible grin.

"I got - shit, you're a mess!" the dark man exclaims cheerfully, as he looks Felix up and down.

"May I help you?" Felix replies, trying to keep irritation from his voice. The American is a junior dragonologist as well, though several years older. Felix doesn’t usually mind the man’s company, but he isn't in the mood for conversation just now. Fortunately, Grahame appears to be in his usual hurry. He thrusts something at Felix as he passes.

"Rashbold asked me to hand that to you on my way. Said you'd want it asap!"

Felix looks down at the object Grahame is pressing into his hands. It's an envelope.

"I - yes. Thank you." He tries to sound aloof, but can't keep excitement from slipping out around his hasty words.

“No worries," Grahame assures him, walking backward to keep sight of Felix. "Catch you later at the pub?" The American pronounces the final word with a fake accent and wry chuckle, but Felix doesn't notice. His entire attention is given over to the envelope in his hands.

The name on the back isn't written in Juniper's writing. Felix isn't positive, but he thinks he recognises the small, cramped script of Rowan Khanna. The morning feels suddenly chill. Fingers trembling, Felix unseals the envelope and pulls out a small slip of parchment. He reads the half-dozen lines once, and then again. Then he starts to run.

"Rashbold!"

"Rosier?"

The Senior Dragonologist looks up from behind the desk, taking in Felix's breathless state in mild curiousity. Felix props an arm against the doorjamb, clutching a stitch in his side.

"I need...a favor," he gasps.

Rashbold guffaws. "You what?"

"Don't be a prick," Felix growls as best he can while still panting.

"Oh, off to a champion start, you are," the larger man chuckles. He falls back against the chair, which squeaks in protest, and kicks his boots up onto the desk. He tries to fold his beefy arms casually behind his head, but the office is so small he smashes his elbow against the wall.

"What could I possibly do for you, Rosier? Never been to Peru, have I? Never chased a dragon across mountains and through forests for weeks without sleep. Don't see how I could possibly help someone such as yourself who's so much more experienced, so-"

Felix can't even feel indignant as he interjects, "This isn't a work favor. It's - personal."

Rashbold's sarcastic smile slips a little. He notices the frantic look in Felix's eye and the parchment crumpled in his hand and asks, more seriously, "What's wrong, then?"

"Something's come up. Back in England, and - I need to take a bit of leave."

Rashbold lets out another raucous laugh, this one incredulous. "What? You can't! You just got here. You're not eligible for six months at least, and even then you know Guivré hardly ever approves-"

"I know!" Felix interrupts, "That's why I need you to cover for me."

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure." Felix runs a hand through his hair in distraction. "A few days, maybe."

Rashbold shakes his head. "Nothing doing, mate. I'm jiggered as it is, I can't pull double shifts that long. I've not got enough wide-eye potion left."

"Please!" Felix's abject pleading shocks both himself and the older man. "Please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent."

Rashbold looks Felix up and down, then shakes his head again, his expression now apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Rosier. But Stella's on me about my hours as it is. If I try to pull something like this, I'll wind up in divorce."

The larger man shifts his gaze to the desk, lifting papers about at random, unwilling to look Felix in the eye.

Felix takes a heavy breath. "Fine." He tosses the gauntlets and vest in the general direction of the wall.

"Hold on." Rashbold stands in alarm. "You're not still going, are you?"

"I have to."

"But, Guivré will fire you if he finds you've gone without leave! I know you're still a bit new here, but you should know what he's like by now."

"I don't have a choice." And Felix is surprised to find his voice even and calm. It's a career-ending decision he's about to make, but somehow, he's entirely removed from any anxiety about it. It's the same feeling of clarity and focus he's used to experiencing in the wild, when circumstance demands immediate action without the luxury of second-guessing.

Rashbold crosses his arms. "Is this about your mysterious letter writer?"

Felix considers a lie, a family crisis would probably garner more sympathy, but his habitual blush betrays him.

"Yes."

Rashbold snorts. "You're seriously going to throw away your position for some girl? That won't even write?"

The heat in Felix's face becomes irritation.

"No. I mean, yes, I am, but she's not some girl. I mean, she is a girl, but..." He struggles to find words to describe everything between him and Juniper to this man who doesn't know either of them and whose business it really isn't anyway. "She's more than just a girl. She's - she's important."

"More important than your job?" Rashbold fixes the junior dragonologist with a shrewdly calculating stare that Felix hadn't considered the other man capable of. Felix holds his gaze steadily, and nods just once.

There's a short silence while Rashbold considers. Finally, the older man heaves himself back into the groaning chair in resignation.

"Alright, look. I can cover you for the week-end. I'll say you got a bad bite and are taking the cure." He points a large finger at Felix. "But if you're not back by Monday, you're on your own, alright?"

Felix's knees almost buckle with relief.

"Thank you, Rashbold," he manages, but the other man waves his words away with a massive hand.

"Don't thank me, just don't make me sorry."

The Khanna tree farm is as picturesque as a Christmas card in the mid-morning light, but Felix isn't in the mood to appreciate the scenery. Security measures have prevented apparition around the property for a league in every direction, so for the second time that day, Felix is forced to race on foot through the grounds. He pelts up the walk to the main building, and bangs on the door with his fist.

It's barely a minute, though it feels like an age to Felix, before the door opens and Rowan Khanna stares eagerly out, face falling slightly when she recognises him.

"Oh. Felix. I thought, maybe you were-"

"What's going on? Where's Juniper? What's happened?" he interjects in a breathless rush. Rowan's dark cheeks turn suddenly fuschia.

"Oh. Um...well, it's sort of complicated."

"What do you mean? Your letter said Juniper needed help."

Rowan stutters wordlessly, shifting her weight between her feet, face still unusually coloured, and Felix's frayed nerves snap.

"Khanna, I've left my job without leave to be here! Tell me what's going on. Now!"

The door opens farther and Felix is surprised to see Penny Haywood standing behind Rowan, expressive face full of worry.

"Are you here about Juniper?"

Felix rolls his eyes hugely. "Yes!"

The blonde girl tugs Rowan aside by the sleeve, allowing Felix to step over the threshold.

"That's good. We need all the help we can get."

A few silent minutes later, Penny is brewing tea while Rowan and Felix sit at the kitchen's wooden farm table. Rowan stares nervously down at her hands, picking at splinters in the wood. Felix takes several deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep his temper under control. If Juniper were in immediate danger, they would surely have taken him to her. But if she isn't, Khanna is going to receive an earful for putting him through all this.

"Where is Juniper?" Felix asks, with what he considers impressive calm.

"She's...not here," Rowan admits, and silent tears spill from her eyes before she can stop them. She wipes them with the back of her sleeve, knocking her glasses askew, and Felix digs his nails into his palm to stifle his panic. He calls up his old prefect skills and speaks as soothingly as he can.

"Khanna, just...calm down, and tell me what's-"

"She's alright," Penny says, turning from the heating kettle to face the table. She's mercifully tear-free, but looks concerned enough to contradict her statement. "She's not...not been attacked again or anything like that. It's - " she sighs deeply. "It's hard to explain.'

Felix closes his eyes in a quick plea for patience. "Please, try."

Penny leans back against the cooker.

"When was the last time you heard from Juniper?"

"Why?" asks Felix suspiciously.

"Because I need to know how much you don't know."

"It's been...two weeks," he admits. "but before that she wasn't saying much about what's been happening to her."

Penny hugs her arms about herself, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, while Felix drums his fingers against the tabletop in agitation.

"Okay. You know Dumbledore made her come stay here for the summer, right?"

Felix nods.

"Well, the thing is...at hospital, she seemed alright. Normal, you know? She was making plans for the summer and next term, like she always does. Even the healer said she was recovering better than expected. But...once she got here, she...changed. We thought she might just be ill or something. She was..." Penny glances toward the ceiling, presumably searching there for the right words. "Subdued, I guess. She wasn't eating, said nothing tasted of anything. And she couldn't sleep. Or wouldn't."

"What do you mean?" Felix interrupts.

"She started having these awful nightmares," says Rowan in a quiet voice. "She'd wake up screaming, didn't - didn't know where she was. It was...scary-" She sniffs, but manages to keep herself from tears. "So, she sort of stopped sleeping. At night anyway. She'd kip a bit during the day, but she'd stay up all night just - just sort of pacing and stuff. It was weird. And then she started - started..." Rowan's lip quivers violently and Penny steps in.

"She started acting, well, really kind of nasty. Snapping at Rowan, and just...really irritable all the time. I've been here a good bit, so I saw it too. It reminded me of Beatrice last summer, you know after being trapped all year. Just...not like herself at all."

Alarm bells go off in Felix's head.

"Did you tell anyone?" he asks. "Her healers or Dumbledore?"

Penny looks down, uncomfortably. "I thought it would get better. Juniper's a lot stronger than Beatrice. Stronger than anyone. You know what I mean, stuff doesn't really get to her like other people."

"I mentioned it once to Healer Early when she was here," Rowan interjects, "but she said there wasn't anything she could do. Something about how magic can't heal the mind and Juniper would just have to...get over it, somehow."

Felix frowns at this.

"I thought Juniper was visiting St Mungo's a few times a week? Why's the healer coming here?"

Rowan and Penny exchange significant glances.

"Did...did Juniper not mention?" Penny asks cautiously.

"Mention what?"

The kettle behind Penny whistles and she turns hurriedly to prepare cups, leaving Rowan to explain.

"When she took the floo to hospital, she'd have these awful sort of attacks. Like, doubled over in pain. For a really long time. And it made her hands worse." Rowan looks down at her own hands lying limp on the table, reciting her words blandly as if they were lines from a textbook. "The healer said the damage to her nerves from the Cruciatus Curse was pretty bad. And that can make magical transportation hard on the body."

Felix raises his eyebrows. "So...Juniper's not supposed to use the Floo network anymore?"

"Or apparate," Penny adds softly without turning around. "She didn't get to take the test with the rest of us."

Penny pours hot water into three cups, and sends them floating across to the table with her wand. Seating herself between Felix and Rowan, she makes a production of adding milk and sugar to her cup, stirring for longer than strictly necessary. Rowan purses her lips around the rim of her tea cup without waiting for it to cool, the steam fogging her glasses. For several minutes, the only sounds are the chink of porcelain and the gentle sipping of scalding liquid.

"Is this...permanent?" Felix manages eventually.

Rowan's cup clatters as she drops it back onto the saucer. She shakes her head violently from side to side.

"No! The healer said it should get better! That she might even be able to take the test next summer! It - It really wasn't...that big of a deal."

But Felix doubts Rowan's dubious tone convinces even herself. Juniper has always been accustomed to quickly mastering spells far beyond her year. And apparition is considered a rite of passage. He can only imagine just how "big a deal" being unable to apparate would be to Juniper.

"After that," Penny continues, still swirling her spoon through her tea. "Everything just got so much worse. I've - I've never seen Juniper so unhappy."

She trails away, staring miserably down into her cup. Felix waits as patiently as he can with his heart racing like a locomotive, but neither girl seems about to continue the story.

"So, does that mean Juniper's back at St Mungo's, then?"

Rowan busies herself cleaning the fog from her glasses, looking anywhere but at Felix.

"No," admits Penny. "See...we thought that maybe it would cheer her up to see her friends, since she's not supposed to go anywhere. So we invited them to come. We had everyone visit in shifts. You know, Barnaby and Andre one week, then Bill and Charlie. And then," Penny's chest heaves with her steadying breath. "Tonks and Tulip. They came up a couple of weeks ago, and they thought Juniper...needed to get out a bit."

Felix almost knocks over his still-full cup of tea. "But Dumbledore said she wasn't to leave the farm!"

"I know," Rowan moans, covering her face with her hands. "I tried to tell her. I knew she'd get into so much trouble if they found out, Dumbledore and Snape and that auror. But, you know what she's like."

"And Tonks and Tulip don't set any store by rules either," Penny adds in disapproval.

"But - but," Felix splutters, "where would they even go? If Juniper can't apparate-"

"Tonks has a muggle motor," explains Penny glumly. "Her dad taught her to use it. So, they all went into the city one night."

Felix struggles to keep his frustration at the two students in check. He's only four years their senior, but they suddenly seem ridiculously young to be watching out for Juniper by themselves.

"To be fair," offers Rowan timidly. "Juniper did seem a bit more herself when she got back. Or at least, she was talking again, laughing, you know?" She lowers her head to her teacup, slurping loudly.

"And I guess that encouraged Tulip and Tonks," says Penny, now fiddling with her tea spoon. "So when they left they...they sort of took Juniper with them."

"What? Where?" barks Felix in alarm.

"London," Penny and Rowan say simultaneously.

"London," Felix repeats. "So, it's taken you the better part of an hour to tell me that Juniper's run away to London?"

Both girls look uncomfortably at the table. Rowan's lip quivers violently again, but Felix's mounting frustration smothers the part of him that cares about such things.

"Surely, you wrote to me as an afterthought." Felix's voice trembles with poorly suppressed fury. "Presumably, two of the smartest witches of their year would know to contact Dumbledore immediately. Or Healer Early. Or that auror. Someone in the same country and able to ensure Juniper's safety in a timely fashion."

By the end, Felix's words are a venomous snarl, and Rowan begins to sob again. Penny looks from her to Felix, eyes pleading.

"Juniper didn't want anyone to know! She made Rowan promise not to tell anyone at the school. She - she wasn't very nice about it, either."

"And-and-and I didn't w-want her to get into trouble," wails Rowan.

Rising from her chair, Penny puts her arms around the other girl's shaking shoulders.

"We were afraid if we told Dumbledore or anyone else, Juniper might be expelled. And Rowan didn't want to break her promise," explains Penny in a soothing voice, stroking Rowan's hair. "Barnaby was the one who suggested we write to you, because...Juniper never said we couldn't tell anyone, just not anyone at the school. And you and Juniper write and she looks up to you. We thought she might listen to you if you told her to come back."

Felix is unsure whether this is true or just flattery designed to quench his anger, but either way it has the desired effect. His whole body relaxes as worry and concern take a backseat to a newly re-kindled hope growing rapidly into excitement. Perhaps this is the opportunity he's been waiting for: a chance to help Juniper when she needs it most. This isn't the monster he'd always imagined saving her from, but it could do in a pinch.

For a few minutes, Felix indulges in a half-plan, half-fantasy of knocking on Juniper's door in London, reveling in the look of shock and awe that crosses her face upon seeing him before she throws herself into his arms, just like at the Quidditch match. Well, perhaps with a few more tears, only natural given what she's been through. But all the horror is sure to melt away as he holds her, murmuring comfort against her hair, until she turns her face to his, eyes full of appreciation and something else he's only ever imagined...

Felix pushes back from the table decisively.

"Where in London?"

Chapter 7 | Masterpost

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