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valentineforlemonandcherry · 1 year

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Foxtail & Wolfsbane 40

[Multi-Post Story] [Rowan Scamander x Reader] [Remus Lupin x Reader] [Young Sirius Black x Reader] [Tristan Graves x Reader] [Severus Snape x Reader] *Note: Rowan Scamander, Tristan Graves, Susana Holmes, Cas Carneirus, Henrietta Weiss, Thomas Picquery, and Magdalene Clarke are OC characters.

Note: Part 40 does not contain any smut.

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

Remus stood at the top of the hill, watching you. At long last, he had done what he’d always wanted to do, but never let himself – come after you.

As per usual, Remus was having the time of his life overthinking everything. What if this was overkill? What if it wasn’t my place to come after her like this? What did I mean by coming here, anyways? I mean, I know what I meant by coming after her. But what if she doesn’t wish for me to come after her like this?

Shut up, you, a rather wolfish voice snarled at Remus’ overthinking brain. Only she can tell you what she wants from you. Go to her. Go to her now.

Gathering his resolve, Remus finally made to step forward, to come down the hill towards you. It all would have made for a very romantic and heroic moment – except Remus had made the same mistake that you had of standing in one spot for too long. He tripped in the soft snow and lurched forward dramatically. Parchment sprayed into the air as Remus lost all sense of control over his own body and ended up tumbling magnificently down the snowy hill, in exactly the same path as you.

“Remus!” you cried out, suddenly breaking out of your nervous thoughts. For in that moment, seeing Remus rolling pathetically down the hill, you became quite certain that this was real life and that that was truly Remus. As Remus let out a loud “Oof!”, you recognized, yes, right, definitely not a hallucination rolling down the snow like that!

You ran up the snowy hill, but you couldn’t make it very far. Thankfully, since Remus followed the same line down the hill that you had, he rolled right to you. You caught him at the bottom of the hill. You hurriedly turned him over (you’d smushed him face-down into the snow a bit as you’d caught him) to check if he was all right. “Merlin, Remus! Are you okay?”

Remus blinked up at you. You saw his eyes wander up to the sky and he blinked even harder, shutting his eyes tightly before opening them. His mouth dropped open as he stared hazily up.

You urgently grabbed the front of his shirt. “Remus! Answer me – are you all right?”

“Er – to tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure,” Remus replied. “I’m – I’m somehow seeing four skies.”

“Oh.” You breathed out. “You’re fine.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Now sit up.” You helped Remus up. You brushed the snow from his face. You tucked his stray curl back up to join the rest of his hair (though it flopped right back out anyways). “Remus,” you said, still in disbelief, “what in the world are you doing here?”

Remus’ eyes flickered up to yours. He answered, in a steady, decided voice, “I came after you.”

“How did you know where to find me?” you asked. “I mean, how did you find this place?”

“You,” Remus replied.

“Huh?”

“Back at Hogwarts, you told me stories about an ancient forest and how it was renamed in modern times as a Japanese forest.”

“I told you about that?”

Remus nodded. “I remember because you were very excited the day you made the connection. You made me look at all of your maps and you nearly swallowed your quill whole.”

You stared at Remus, awed by how much he recalled.

Just then, Remus clarified, “Unfortunately, that was about all I could remember. I had to go to the library to do some research. See…” He began to rummage about in his pockets. Only, they were all empty.

You nodded at the stray pieces of parchment rolling merrily along the hills, going in every which way. “Was that your research?”

“Oh,” was all Remus said.

You laughed softly. “If it makes you feel any better, I tripped down exactly the same way you did.”

“I gathered that,” Remus replied. His eyes lingered on your face as he murmured, “You have snowflakes on your cheeks…” He reached out and hesitantly brushed the snow off your cheeks.

Oh, you thought.

“And your lips…”

The warmth of Remus’ fingers brushing over your lips made you stay very still, as you hoped that he would name another place on your face to touch.

“And your eyelashes…” Remus brought up both of his hands and gently cradled your face. You closed your eyes as Remus swept his thumbs over your eyelashes to brush your eyes free of snowflakes.

You breathed out slowly.

“There,” Remus murmured. He let go of you.

You opened your eyes. You were sure your cheeks were flushed, but so were Remus’.

“Ahem.” He coughed and turned his head away from you. “So this is the mythical realm?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you come back here?” Remus wondered. “Isn’t the Nine-Tailed Fox gone?”

“The Nine-Tailed Fox is gone,” you agreed. “Only I don’t understand. Why didn’t she take over my body? She evolves into her most powerful state when she receives her ninth tail. I know she did. I felt it. Her incredible surge of power. I even felt her immortality for a moment. She must be healthy and thriving, somewhere out there… But then, how am I alive? The bargain I struck with the Fox was that I would be the vessel through which she gained her ninth tail and she would grant your wish - ”

Remus made a sudden motion. But when you looked at him nervously, he immediately stilled. He watched you with an intense gaze, waiting for you to go on.

“But I woke up. I know I was asleep for a long time, but still, I’m awake. Then, I realized that Artemis was gone…” You gripped the hem of your jumper. “And the other day, Tonks told us about Rowan’s message: He said that he’d taken back all of his creatures, but there were other, new creatures. That’s when I began to wonder – to hope - ” Your hands turned into tight fists, bunching up the fabric.

Remus’ eyes flashed knowingly. “You think Artemis might be here.”

“Yes,” you confirmed in a fearful whisper. “But I can’t really explain why I think that and I don’t even know what to look for. It’s only an instinct.”

“It makes sense to me,” Remus said firmly. “Not everything that makes sense has to be logical. Clearly, just look at this place.”

“That’s true,” you murmured, feeling more hopeful since Remus seemed to understand what you were thinking.

You and Remus got to your feet. The two of you turned around uncertainly, taking in the vastness of the realm and the dizzying paradox of all four seasons existing in the same time-space all at once.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” you admitted.

“That’s all right,” Remus replied comfortingly. “This isn’t a bad place to take a walk, you know. Perhaps we’ll think of something along the way.” He made to step forward when -

“Ah, wait,” you said suddenly. “There’s something you should know. Time works differently here. When you leave, you may find that months or even years have passed in the real world. Maybe you should go back now.”

Remus’ brow furrowed. “Time skips?”

“Yes. So if you’re worried about that – if you have anyone waiting for you – you should go back.”

Remus shook his head lightly. “Never mind that. It’s all right.”

“But - ”

“I understand what you’re saying. I’m glad you told me, so I know. But the truth is, even if I went back to the real world right now, I’d spend my time worrying about you, anyways. So, it’s best if I stay with you.”

You fell silent. Isn’t Tonks waiting for him? Isn’t he worried about worrying her? A part of you – the narrow-hearted, jealous part – didn’t want to say anything, but your desire to do the right thing and your desire for Remus to be happy easily won out. You blurted out, “What about Tonks?”

Remus cocked his head at you. “What about her?”

“Is it all right to leave her?”

“Well, yes, I assume she’ll be busy with Auror exams.”

“Oh.” You felt yourself become even less certain of what to say. Finally, you decided to compromise. “Well, let’s do our best to be quick then. C’mon, Remus!” You grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward.

Surprised, Remus stumbled forward. Narrowly avoiding stepping on your heels, he tripped to the left. “W-Wait!”

Poof!

A muffled cry sounded out. You turned around frantically, only to find that you had tugged Remus right into another huge pile of snow.

“Hold on!” You hurriedly pawed at the snow, digging him out. When enough of the snow around him had disappeared, you grabbed his waist and yanked him out. You repeated, embarrassed, “Sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

While you were standing in front of him and apologizing for your short-sightedness, Remus suddenly recalled a previous time when this exact same thing happened. You’d dragged Remus out of Gryffindor Tower to celebrate the first major snowfall at Hogwarts. Overexcited, you’d pulled him right into a pile of snow. You’d done the same thing then as you had now – pulled him out and apologized. Afterwards, you’d gone to Hagrid’s to fetch Artemis and the two of you went racing off into the Forbidden Forest. Remus remembered being thankful for the snow because it tracked both of your prints so that he could follow you both into the woods. He couldn’t quite keep up with you and Artemis, as the two of you seemed to have an unspoken routine and easily bounded together over logs, rivers, and hills. You had only lost track of Artemis once, when you let her have a long head start to race off and hide from you. When that happened –

You caught Remus’ bright eyes at once. “What is it?”

Remus said excitedly, “I think I know a way for you to find Artemis.”

Your whole frame lit up with excitement. “How?”

Remus recounted, “Remember you put a little bell around Artemis’ neck? You used to call her whenever you couldn’t find her. You would lift your wand and say - ”

“Corusco!” you finished breathlessly.

“Exactly!”

But then, you wilted. “Oh… But I don’t have my wand anymore.”

Remus rummaged around in his pockets again. He let out a sigh of relief when he found his wand. He pulled it out and offered it to you. “Use mine.”

You took his wand with curiosity. Unfortunately, you could immediately feel that this wand rejected you. It did not consider you its owner, in any way. As you wrapped your fingers around it, a sharp sting ran up your hand.

“Ow!” You accidentally dropped the wand, as a stinging burn ran through your hand.

Remus started, surprised.

“Sorry,” you said. “But I don’t think your wand likes me, Remus. It zapped me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You made to pick it up, but Remus stopped you. Not wanting you to get hurt again, he grasped your wrist to halt you and he picked up the wand himself. The wand slid naturally into his hand, fitting gracefully in his large palm and sitting easily in his long, graceful fingers.

“Here, let’s try this.” Remus stepped around you, until he was standing behind you. He held his hand out and told you, “Grasp my wand. Lightly now – and carefully, mind you.”

You gingerly picked up Remus’ wand from his hand.

“I’m going to hold my wand with you, so it’ll sense me,” Remus explained. He slowly folded his hand over yours. His hand covered yours, and suddenly, your hand was so warm, with his fingers covering yours and his palm nestled against the back of your hand.

Since Remus was quite a bit taller than you, he had to hunch over somewhat to keep the wand at a comfortable height for you to hold. He naturally shifted closer to you, until his chest pressed lightly against your back. You jolted slightly, nervous to have him so close to you.

Remus misunderstood; he thought that you were still nervous about his wand rejecting you. “Relax,” he whispered. His chin slid softly over your shoulder and he murmured into your ear, “If you trust me, the wand will lend you its strength.”

You breathed out, willing yourself to calm down.

“That’s right,” Remus encouraged you, speaking very softly. “You can do it. Channel your magic through me.”

You closed your eyes and leaned back a little against Remus.

Remus’ eyes flickered down to you. When he saw you leaning against him, he couldn’t help but think, Lovely, you’re still the same, aren’t you? You look just as you did when I first taught you the Patronus… You trusted me then. You trust me now – even after everything. I’ll give you my magic, Lovely. I’d give all of it to you, if I could.

In a quiet whisper, Remus told you, “Say the spell now.”

You took a deep breath and then you whispered fervently, “Corusco!”

Ring! Ring, ring, ring!

You gasped.

Ring, ring, ring!

“Where’s the sound coming from?” Remus wondered, looking this way and that.

You furiously scanned the many landscapes, too, until – “There!” you cried, punching your other hand into the air to point. Far out in the winter terrain, a silvery little figure came dashing forward. You had to squint to catch it at first, as it was quite a small figure. Once you caught a glimpse of it, though, you could follow its figure was it wove through the trees, flashing through the dark forest that covered most of the winter horizon. It had quite a ways to run – but that was all right, you could meet it halfway, because you were running towards it, too.

You sprinted forward as fast as you could. With each step, your heart became increasingly full of anticipation – until you cried out in a desperate, aching voice, “Artemis! I’m coming!”

All of a sudden, you came across a huge river which blocked your path. No! Please! Let me find a way to cross! Please, please, please! To your dismay, the river had no obvious crossing point and the current looked very fast. Worse still, since the riverbank was covered with tall flowers, you lost sight of Artemis.

Meanwhile, Remus was fighting against the same, tall flowers, trying desperately to find you. “Lovely! Where’ve you gone?”

“Here, Remus!” you called out.

Remus reached you. Instantly, he realized what the situation was and how distressed you were. “Oh no. He held out his wand again. “Do you want try once mo - ?”

Ring! Ring, ring, ring!

Remus cut off. Both of you lifted your heads and tried to peer through the thick meadow of flowers as the bright, clear sound of a bell rang out nearby.

“Art?” you called uncertainly, unsure of which direction the sound was coming from.

Ring! The sound was even clearer – meaning it was quite close.

Then – “Arf! Arf, arf!” A lithe, full-grown, yet still slightly small fox burst out of the flowers and tackled you to the ground.

“Artemis!” you shouted, recognizing her at once. Her fur was silver now, but there was no doubt that this was Artemis.

Remus started, flustered by how you’d been tackled to the ground. Only, you were too busy shouting with joy and rubbing your beloved fox all over her head and tummy, just how she liked it. “Art, it’s you! Oh Merlin, it’s you!” You sat up and threw your arms around her. Burying your face against her fur, you cried, “You’re alive!”

Artemis barked joyfully, happy to hear the sound of your voice, too. However, when she heard you say the word “alive,” she suddenly quieted.

You stilled, too, immediately noticing her reaction. You lifted your head.

Artemis turned her head and she looked at you knowingly. She looked as if she were waiting for you to catch on…

“You’re not alive, are you?” you realized. “That is, you’re not alive in the way you once were, the way I am…”

Artemis gave you a slow nod.

“You can’t leave this realm,” you recognized. “You’re a mythical creature now. You’re like the fox, before she got her ninth tail. You’re immortal, but you’re a creature of this realm.”

Artemis nodded again.

You breathed out. “How did this happen to you?”

Instead of answering, Artemis nuzzled you again, rubbing her now-silver little snout against your shoulder. You brought your hand up and petted her lovingly. But this time, you realized how cold she was and how she didn’t seem to have the same weight as she did before.

“Are you all right?” you whispered to her.

Artemis’ eyes turned into pleased little crescents as she smiled, in her own, mischievous fox way.

“Yeah? You’re happy here?” you confirmed.

Artemis let out a bright bark.

Your heart panged. You felt happy for Artemis, but you also felt sad because you realized that she wasn’t coming back with you. Still, you tried to be grateful just for this moment of reunion and for the fact that she was all right. “Okay, then,” you said softly. “That’s the only important thing, anyways.”

You slid your arms around her and hugged her again. “I missed you so much. Did you know that? I was so worried when I couldn’t find you.”

Artemis let out a small bark. You noticed how her bark was much more clear, even melodic, now. She truly is a creature of this realm. You whispered to her, “Guess you’re not my earthly fox anymore, huh? You’re my mythical fox now.”

Artemis wrapped her tail around your waist. She let out a happy purr.

“Oh,” you remembered, “that’s right. You always wanted to be magical. You used to chew at my wand all the time. It was basically a fox pacifier.”

Artemis grinned again – and she looked rather smug.

You laughed softly, finally sure that Artemis was truly all right. “So, you got your wish, after all. Good for you, Art.”

Just then, a harsh, unexpected bark sounded out from some distance away. “Woof!”

You started. Artemis bounded jubilantly to her feet and she replied with a welcoming bark of her own.

“Who is she calling to?” Remus asked you.

You shook your head, unsure. I expected Artemis to be here, but what other creature could possibly be here? you thought, surprised. Rowan said that he took all of his creatures back. So, what creature could it be?

Then, you saw it – a spry, but quite sizeable wolf was making its way deftly through the flowers. The wolf pushed its way past the final row of flowers and joined you, Remus, and Artemis.

Remus hurriedly pushed you behind him and held out his wand. But Artemis walked forward and nuzzled the wolf. Friend, Artemis was saying clearly, and she was right, for the wolf nuzzled her back. He was very gentle with her, pushing his snout lightly and affectionately against her small frame.

You stuck your head out and peered around Remus. What is that creature? Is it really a wolf? But why is it all silver? Is it a mythical creature, too? But it’s a different kind of silver from Art. Art’s a grey-silver and the wolf is a pure silver. You peered even more closely at the wolf. What’s that on it’s chest? Like an emblem… Hm, it’s a perfect circle. Is it just a coincidental mark?

Right at that moment, the wolf stopped nuzzling Artemis. He straightened up to his full height and looked at Remus.

“What? What do you want?” Remus said apprehensively.

The wolf let out a single, gruff bark.

Your eyes widened. A perfect circle – it’s a moon! A full moon!

“Remus!” you gasped, shocking him. He nearly stumbled back. You caught him, as you said breathlessly, “That’s you!”

Remus turned his head so fast he nearly bumped your head. “What?”

“That’s your werewolf spirit! Look! There’s a full moon on its chest!”

Remus whipped his head back around and he looked closely at at the wolf’s chest. When he saw the symbol and recognized it as the full moon, his breath caught. “You’re saying that’s me?”

“Yes,” you said, certain of it now. “That’s your werewolf spirit, Remus. So, this is where he came to, after he left your being.”

Remus knelt down, peering at the wolf. In a trembling voice, he whispered, “You’re me…?”

The wolf walked up to him.

Remus shivered, but he stood his ground and remained crouching, so he could come face-to-face with the wolf. The wolf was quite an impressive size, and when he moved, his strength could be felt and seen in his movements. Soon, the wolf was face-to-face with Remus.

Remus put his wand down and lifted his hand.

The wolf slowly pressed his snout against Remus’ hand.

When the wolf’s nose touched Remus’ palm, Remus breathed out suddenly. “Merlin, it’s really you. I can feel the energy of the full moon coursing through me.”

The wolf blinked up at Remus. Their eyes met.

Remus swallowed hard. Then, he whispered darkly, “But you’re a monster.”

Offended, the wolf let out a harsh breath and immediately turned its head away from Remus.

You held your breath, suddenly afraid.

“You made my life so difficult,” Remus continued in a harsh, bitter whisper. “You were the reason why I was always ill, why my family broke apart, why I could never get a job, why I’m a burden to all my friends, why I could never allow myself to love someone, why I questioned whether life was worth living, why I hated myself…” Tears slowly dripped down Remus’ face. He whispered, in an utterly broken voice, “But seeing you like this, as a true wolf, all I can do is pity you. I denied every instinct and craving you ever had and I blamed so much of my own failures on you. I’m sorry for our miserable existence. Still, I couldn’t give into you. Don’t you see? I had to resent you.” Remus broke down, sobbing.

You fell to your knees beside Remus and you hugged him tightly. “Sh, Rem,” you whispered kindly. “It’s all right. It’s okay to hurt. God knows how long you’ve held this all in.”

The wolf let out a displeased snort. He made a sudden motion, as if to take off. However, Artemis let out a low whine. She nodded her head at you. The wolf stared at Artemis, then at you, and then back to Artemis. Artemis nodded again. The wolf’s curiosity got the better of him, and he began to sniff at you.

Hearing the wolf, Remus lifted his head. When he saw the wolf coming closer to you, Remus quickly wiped away his tears and pulled you close to him.

“It’s all right,” you reassured him. “He’s not going to hurt me.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asked you, his voice cracking even in that short phrase.

You nodded. It was your turn to gently put your hands on his cheeks and to cradle his face. You assured Remus, “You’re not going to hurt me.”

The wolf was now sniffing at the hem of your cloak. You turned your head towards him. “Hello,” you said pleasantly. “We’ve never met.” You paused and amended, “Not properly, anyways.”

Remus shamefully looked away from you. You tightened your hug on Remus, but you kept talking to the wolf. “You’re friends with Art, I see. I’m glad. I was forever trying to teach Art to like you when you were with Remus, but I’m not sure Art ever really took to Rem. Now we know for sure that it was Remus that Artemis didn’t like and not you, huh?” You laughed, finding the thought quite funny.

The wolf looked at you skeptically. Clearly, he didn’t trust easily. Still, he seemed satisfied enough with you as he made his way back to Artemis. When Artemis saw him coming back, she bounded forward happily to meet him. The wolf tried not to appear too pleased at first, but when Artemis managed to lick his face, the wolf clearly softened. He laid down on his tummy so Artemis could lick his face without having to jump up.

You smiled. “Look, Remus. They really are friends.”

Remus didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened as he watched Artemis and the wolf together.

After a moment, the wolf stood up. He let out a soft, but quite low grumble. Artemis’ ears and tail perked up. Then, with a merry yelp, Artemis took off. The wolf waited patiently for about ten seconds and then, with a powerful leap off of his hind legs, he was off, too. Artemis’ barking got louder and louder the closer he got to catching up, until she was barking furiously, clearly laughing in her own way, as he managed to catch him to her.

Then, the most incredible thing happened. As Artemis and the wolf (Lupin, you thought in your head) ran through the field together, the flowers immediately around them began to light up with a silvery glow and to ring.

You gasped when you realized that the flowers were snowdrops. The Nine-Tailed Fox’s crystal-clear melodic voice, Artemis’ old bell sound, the snowdrops… All of it has come together.

You and Remus got up onto your feet and both of you in the magical sight of the field of snowdrops lighting up and ringing its merry winter bells as the two forever-mythical spirits ran off into the wintery forest. Though you didn’t know it, they were running back home, to a small, warm cave at the foot of the mountains. The entrance to the cave was framed with tiny, white foxtail ferns and a single, sturdy wolfsbane plant guarding the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Neither you nor Remus were quite yourselves as you headed for the door leading back to the real world. However, when you neared the doorway, you caught sight of something that shocked you back to your senses. You grabbed Remus’ arm and squeezed hard.

“Is something wrong?”

You nodded up ahead. “Look at that.”

Incredibly, where there used to be only a silver glimmer – all but undetectable unless one knew to look for it – there was now a proper doorway. It was floating in the air, but it was very clearly a metal doorway. What was more, it was framed with white and pink flowers. It looked like the flowers had grown up and around the metal doorframe.

Oh, you realized, so that’s why there were white and pink flowers framing Remus when he first appeared. He was stepping out of the door.

“A doorway,” you said, awed. “That wasn’t there before.”

“It wasn’t?”

You shook your head. “I wonder if that means…” You hesitated. “Remus, will you hold onto my hand? I want to try something, but please pull me out if I ask you to of if I scream.”

“Scream? Why? What are you planning to do?”

“I just want to test this door.”

“Are you sure it’s all right for you to do this?” Remus said nervously, following you to the door. “Can’t we throw a branch through it? Or can’t I do it instead?”

“No, no, I’m sure it’ll be all right,” you said. “Now, please hold my hand.”

Remus took your hand in both of his and clutched onto your hand tightly.

You stood before the doorway and then you carefully put your hand through the door.

Whoosh! You gasped when you suddenly felt a rush of wind hit your hand.

Taking no chances, Remus immediately yanked your hand as hard as he could. You were yanked right into his arms. “Oh!” you breathed out.

“Are you all right?” Remus said urgently. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m fine.” You laughed. “Sorry I made you nervous.”

“But what was all that about?” Remus asked you. He didn’t seem aware of the fact that he was all but crushing you in his arms, even though he had to look down far enough that his chin almost touched his chest as he peered down at you.

“I wanted to check if that doorway was a stable doorway to the real world,” you informed him. You put your hand on Remus’ chest and he instinctively relaxed, letting you go a little.

“And is it?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes. There’s no doubt about it. The wind I felt was wind from the real world. Even more incredible, it’s stable enough that people can come and go as they please.” You frowned slightly, though, as you wondered, “But how could a door be built here? I thought it was condition of a time crystal that it be totally independent of all other notions of time.” You looked up at the sky. Remus followed your gaze, tilting his head up to the sky too.

“It must have something to do with how there are four seasons here now,” you guessed.

“What do you mean?”

“It used to be only winter here. And there were no creatures. Well, Rowan’s creatures were here, but they weren’t of here, strictly speaking.” When you mentioned Rowan, you suddenly had an idea of what might have happened.

You stared once more at the doorway. This time, instead of paying attention to its structure or the beautiful flowers gracing it, you looked closely at the metal. It looks like the same metal that Tristan’s watch was made of, you thought. Hm…

Remus’ voice broke into your musings. “Shouldn’t we get out of here? I don’t mean to rush you, but now that we know Artemis is all right and if we’re worried about time skips…”

Ah, right. Remus has to get back – to his real life and to Tonks, you remembered. “Right.” You stepped away from Remus, slipping out of his warms. With a small sigh, you murmured, “Back to the real world we go.”

I shouldn’t be sad, you reminded yourself. I’ve found Artemis and Remus has found his happiness. This is what I wished for, after all. It’s all right if I’m going back alone. Even if Artemis can’t come back with me, even if the Nine-Tailed Fox is no longer in my soul, and even if Remus is with somebody else, I know I’m strong enough to find my own way.

Standing in front of the doorway, you reached out to Remus and said warmly, “Thank you, Remus, for coming after me.”

Remus slid his hand into yours. Grasping his hand, you stepped through the doorway, and the both of you returned to the real world.

* * * * * * * * * *

As it was, Tristan’s watch, which Rowan had planted in the ground near the doorway, had grown to create the metal doorway.

The fundamental principle empowering the Graves’ metal magic was fate. Fate is a stable concept of time because it constitutes a prior determination. However, fate is also a flexible concept because it can accept the notion of ‘progress’ within it without losing its original meaning. Fate is the confines within which humans exert free will. As such, the metal of Tristan’s watch introduced a notion of determined progress, of circularity, without breaking the notion of ‘eternity’ that the ice phoenix’s heart was underholding (and which underpins the very existence of this realm). In this way, progress is accepted as a ‘part’ of eternity so long as it remains pre-determined and circular – in other words, so long as it does not introduce change into the environment. Thus, the four seasons occur all at once here.

And where did the seasons come from, you may wonder? Well, just as the mythical realm influenced Rowan’s creatures, so those creatures influenced the mythical realm. As Newt and Rowan always said, magical creatures are more powerful than wizards and witches in the magic that they produce. Frank had forged a summer for the mythical realm – a summer full of dazzling thunderstorms, but with an even brighter sun. Nula had offered the colors of her lovely, exuberant ruffles to create the autumn foliage of the mythical realm. And Sil had given his iridescence, playfulness, and adaptability to craft a blessed, twinkling, though slightly mischievous spring. They had left something of themselves here in this mythical realm: seeds of their spirits. However, it was only after Rowan planted Tristan’s watch into the ground that those seeds sprouted into the full being of four different seasons.

‘Infinity’ now took on a new meaning in the mythical realm. That was how the mythical realm, created by the ice phoenix and protected by the Nine-Tailed Fox, was not only restored and taken back from the succubus, but revived and reinvented into a much livelier place, where myth was invited to explore and grow itself, rather than simply being frozen for the sake of being preserved.

As for the Nine-Tailed Fox, she had in fact returned briefly to guide Artemis’ spirit here. When she arrived, she felt the ice phoenix speak to her soul. My, my. Look how you’ve grown. A full Nine-Tailed Fox. Your family would have been very proud of you.

The Nine-Tailed Fox held her head up proudly and swished her gorgeous, full tails. She playfully showed off before the ice phoenix, who laughed merrily. But then, the Nine-Tailed Fox noticed the four seasons, and she gasped aloud. Seasons! There are seasons in the mythical world?

Yes, there are.

How your heart has grown, my friend, the Fox whispered, almost afraid of her happiness. You don’t even need me to be a guardian of this world anymore, do you?

No, the ice phoenix agreed. You are free to wander wherever you’d like without having to worry about this realm anymore. He sighed. I’m sorry, my old friend, I never meant for this realm to become a burden for you. I’m glad you’ve found your true freedom now.

Please don’t, the Nine-Tailed Fox replied. You kept me alive by giving me a home, both in life and in sacrifice. When I had no mother or father to run to, no tails to hide in, you lent me your wings for comfort. You wrapped them around me as though I were your own. That was how I survived those long years. I may be free but my heart is always with you, in this wonderful realm that you’ve created and hold steady. That’s why this little fox, Artemis, will be able to live there.

At this, the ice phoenix chuckled. So, you brought her here.

The Nine-Tailed Fox blinked. That’s how it worked out.

The ice phoenix observed, She’s quite a young spirit.

Yes.

And she’s in love.

Is she?

Yes. A wolf spirit came after her, you know. He arrived just now, on the other side of the mountains. They’ve just met, and yet they’re clearly in love.

The Nine-Tailed Fox smiled an elusive, mysterious smile. Well, well, imagine that.

Yes, just imagine.

The Fox’s tails swirled in the air. Her paws itched. She was ready to take the many universes out there by storm.

Go, the ice phoenix urged. Live your destiny. You’ve earned every right to be the true Nine-Tailed Fox that you are.

I’ll come back soon, the Fox promised.

Don’t. Be happy. Be free, the ice phoenix said decidedly. Besides, you’re immortal and I’m eternal. We will meet again someday. Until then, I’m happy to wait. I’m happy imagining your freedom. It’s how I’ve always wanted to spend my eternity.

The Nine-Tailed Fox lifted her head and howled. It was a powerful sound. The force of her howl caused a gush of wind to rush over the mythical world. Lightning crackled in the summer world; new flowers burst into bloom in the spring world; the variegated foliage shivered mightily, all at once, in the autumn world; and out in the icy, winter world, a small fox and a weary wolf howled together in reply, the way they might howl at a moon.

The Nine-Tailed Fox’s eyes glimmered brightly. Her lips pulled back and she bared her teeth ferociously. A low, thrumming growl ran through from the tip of her nose down to each of her nine tails. Then, the Nine-Tailed Fox bounded up into the sky. There was a bright, silver flash and a busy flurry of nine tails swishing brightly in the four-colored sky – and she was gone, off to live the spiritual adventures befitting a true Nine-Tailed Fox.

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #foxtail and wolfsbane #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders era

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momo-t-daye · 2 years

Note

In love with the newest piece with Tobias and Eileen (and Snape trying to flee to Jamaica before anyone discovers he's not dead) <3

I like fanworks where Tobias and Eileen are more humanized in, and when the Snape family has a complicated relationship.

Tobias and Eileen having moments where they are trying to be good parents without knowing how to go about it (i.e. Eileen trying to comfort Severus after the break-up with Lily, but saying all the wrong things) or just being mismatched with a problem (i.e. Tobias trying super hard to teach his son how to scrap the muggle way after the bullying is mentioned vs Severus' "I'm a wizard; I hex them").

I especially like when something big happens (like the werewolf prank going really terribly wrong or the end of the Second War) and Tobias/Eileen having that explosive moment of "THAT'S MY SON!" or that quiet, aggrieved "that was my son."

I'd recommend You're Not My Son by hbpx09. I wish it was a series because I want to see Tobias and Severus team-up against Voldemort.

Also, To Fix A Ruptured Heart by ekaterinasnoww19601998. The writing is a bit choppy and (maybe) a little too fluffy, but I've never seen another fic try to do time travel with Tobias and Eileen as the main protags., and I do hope that the author keeps adding on to it.

I like when Tobias and Eileen have moments where they are trying to be good parents without knowing how to go about it (i.e. Eileen trying to comfort Severus after the break-up with Lily, but saying all the wrong things) or just not being the right kind of parents for Severus (i.e. Tobias trying super hard to teach his son how to scrap). I usually HC Tobias and Eileen as children of parents who didn't know how to parent or were mismatched with their children to.

I especially like when something big happens (like the werewolf prank going really terribly wrong) and Tobias/Eileen having that explosive moment of "THAT'S MY SON!" or that quiet, aggrieved "that was my son."

Thank you so much Anonymous, I had a fun drawing the silly comic of sniper!Tobias having saved the day (and I’m afraid it has spawned more silly thoughts as I am wont to do) and I’m glad that you like it (the joke of Severus faking his death in the Shack and running off to Jamaica is an old one, there’s some good art of Sev enjoying his post-war life on a tropical beach)!

I am very fond of giving characters, especially the side characters (…and ones that barely appear but are deeply connected to characters (…Severus Snape…) that do appear but really need to be examined after events unfurl to be understood), more depth and personal history and humanity (and hilarity). I mean, I have a soft spot for Petunia Dursley (in her aspect of Tuney/Tuna Evans) for crying out loud!

I like to see messy and visceral and multifaceted characters scrambling rough-edged through the briars of the day-to-day whilst dragging the baggage of yesterday (and, as a silly person, I really like it when they also get the chance to stop and breathe in a metaphorical glade of sublime levity).

Severus Snape having complicated, spaghetti-tangles of feelings about his parents (who were generally not good parents when they remembered to parent their son, but who each had moments that paragons would strive to match) is something that I find compelling.

I definitely agree with your headcannon of Tobias and Eileen being children of parents (or guardians) who didn't know how to parent/were mismatched to parent the children they had. Just, they did not start the long cycle of sorrow, the chain of hurt people, that Severus was born into, but they also weren’t able to break from the track they’d been set in before their son was born. I wrote out some of my young!Eileen headcannons here, maybe I’ll get around to doing something about Tobias at some point or another too.

I have not read “To Fix A Ruptured Heart” by ekaterinasnoww19601998, but I have read “You're Not My Son” by hbpx09 (that one was actually inspired by this post)— I really enjoyed how the author conveyed Tobias becoming more unnerved by the Severus he didn’t know.

(Also, “That WAS my son”???? “WAS”???? Ouch! Painful story in four words there!)

I think you might enjoy some of the stories by Jaxon on Ao3 like this one or @sneverussape’s Tobias Snape art (this is one of my favorites)!

#The Snape family #I think I've figured out how to add links and gotten carried away

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blackbeauty15 · 1 year

Text

cold,warm

chapter 2

warnings: contains drug use don’t move any further if you have a problem with that!!

you did not expect him to be open about his feelings ,

and your right he wasn’t

he’s been here for a week and there is barely any conversation between you two besides when you dress his wounds. other than that nothing . it wasn’t fully bad though.

his voice had gotten better and it was easier for him to eat. While you were at work helping children at an adoption home , he tidied up a bit making sure when you came home you didn't need to do much. Even though it was a small gesture you really appreciated it. It was the thought that counted more than anything.

that’s how it would be all week ,until today.

After a tiring day that was very stressful all you wanted to do was curl up and die. so you went straight home straining a smile while fixing severus dressing and walking right in your room .Going straight to your stash under your bed gabbing the jar seeing what it obtained you smelled it , a sigh of happiness left your lips.

now time for the party to get started

~ ~~~~~~~~~~~

severus to say the least was actually surprised you had barely spoken a word while tending to his wounds. he found that quite odd because every time coming from work you would try to talk to him making return short answers back. he wasn’t always the greatest at small talk,but that was obvious. he wasn’t really used to people trying to actually interact with im except of his close range of friends like dumbledore or Minerva,and well that was pretty much it.

he could tell she was trying, he really could and for that he was thankful. but he and she both knew it was gonna take more than small talk to actually be out of an acquaintance level.

while he was in mind a weird smell interrupted them, it was an odd smell to him to say the least, like woody and herbal but burning. He decided to ignore it but couldn’t any longer when the smell got too pungent .

Miss.L/n Severus said with a little base in his voice.

he called again but a little louder after that didn't work, Severus found that odd. He wasn’t trying to sound cocky but whenever he called she was right there to aid him, not that he needed much aiding.

Severus got up questioningly and quickly from his lying position on the couch. Miss L/n? The closer Snape got to your bedroom door the more he could start to smell the pungent earthy smell again. He wrinkled his nose a little to the unfamiliar smell and loudly but quickly knocked.

Miss L/n i just wanted to check on you he said awkwardly it makes him feel like he’s back in hogwarts as a little teen knocking on a young girls door.

come in she said softly

He slowly turns the handle of the bedroom door opening it and sees Y/n laying face side up on her bed with he head pointing to the door squinting as if to see if that was really him.

fessor, heyyy buddy. she says with half lidded eyes and a goofy smirk leaning her head up off the bed. she pats the spot on the right side to her.

Severus slowly sits down on the spot she patted awkwardly not knowing what to do. It's been forever since he’s been in a womens room. He examined the room taking in the beautiful plants that hung in each corner or the soft fur rug that he could feel through his thin white socks. The colors of led light made the room even cooler.

finally turning to her he looks to his left finding Y/n laying on her back again entertained by the calling which had moving stars on it. Y/n held the burning plant to her lips slowing in healing then exhaling seconds after letting smoke leave her lips.

Snape was stunned to say the least. what she said questionably this is that keeps me from fucking people up she says chuckling at his raised eyebrows.

here y/n gave him the plant you just inhale lightly then exhale.

Snape hesitantly took the rolled plant, examining it lightly before placing it between his lips and did as told. y/n patted his back while snape coughed dramatically.

you’ll get used to it y/n stated while smirking talking of the weight of her body off of the elbows and laying back down severus took that last a que to so the same.

he didn't feel it at first but after 2 good minutes he felt what she was feeling. wow he stated amazed looking at the stars on the ceiling. does it always feel this way he questioned.

yeah its amazing right she said smoothly with a slight smirk looking at him, god he looks hot.

thank you he said now turning his attention to her with a smirk of his own i can read mind you know.

a slight gasp came from her lips with wide eyes you gotta be shitting me. Severus just laughed, turning his eyes back to the stars. you're not too bad yourself he said boldly, gosh this plant is really getting to me. y/n was happy he went back to focusing on the stars because even though she was black she did blush.

The soft R&B music played blindly threw the room as she began to think maybe this was the best time to get information out of him.

hey professor she asked steadily

the professor hummed letting her know she was being listened to

is it okay if i know more about you she asked slightly scrunching up her shoulder waiting for the no, but it never came.

instead what came from him was

what do you want to know ?

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yan-senna · 2 years

Text

Flirtation and Jealousy (SS, LM, NM)

By yan-senna

Other links to the one shot: Wattpad / AO3

One shot schedule list

Want to be tagged when I post a fanfic?

Introduction:

This one shot contains Severus Snape x reader, Lucius Malfoy x reader and Narcissa Malfoy x reader. I only own Y/N who is 18+ years old.

This is a request from @narcissasbrat as well as an anon here on Tumblr. Thank you both for your request!

Severus is invited to dinner at Malfoy Manor where he brings a date, his assistant who is also his girlfriend. He however gets jealous when Lucius and Narcissa start flirting with her.

I hope you enjoy!

PS: You can send requests!

Word count: 2k

Published: 11/9/2021

———————————————

TW: Alcohol, flirtatious & seductive behaviour and jealousy

Severus Snape is a happy man. He still can’t believe that he’s in a relationship with the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on - Y/N Y/L/N, his assistant.

At first, he barely acknowledged her. However, after the poor assistant kept trying to talk with her boss, he couldn’t keep ignoring her - they do need to communicate after all.

After a while, he became smitten with her. But he never admitted his feelings as he believed it was one-sided - who could love Severus Tobias Snape? Surely, no one.

Imagine his surprise when the same woman admits her feelings towards him - he almost thought it was a joke.

Now, ten months later, they are in a happy relationship.

The only ones who know besides themselves are Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. Those two did bet when the two lovebirds would admit their feelings towards each other.

Spoiler alert - Minerva won, much to Albus’ dismay. Ten Galleons!

None of the students know. Severus and Y/N both agreed on that - the Potions Master wouldn’t be as feared and respected if they find out that he has a soft spot. Well, at least respected by his Slytherins.

Neville Longbottom would stop crying from fear whenever he sees the Potions Master if he knew - that just can’t happen, right?

Right now, Y/N is walking in the hallways, heading towards the library. Severus is out of books to read, and she promised to bring him a new one.

Just as she’s about to enter, she accidentally bumps into someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir! I didn’t see you!” Y/N apologies.

The man chuckles. “No need to apologise, young lady. It isn’t every day a beautiful woman bumps into me” he says, smirking at her.

She blushes. “Oh, t-thank you, sir. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, by the way” she says as she extends her hand.

The man takes her hand to his lips as he kisses her knuckles. “Lucius Malfoy” he says as he introduces himself.

Y/N smiles at that. “I believe Draco Malfoy is your son, yes?” she asks, thinking of the Slytherin student. The boy is very talented in Potions.

Lucius nods. “That’s correct, he is my son. Which is the reason I have come here to Hogwarts as I need to speak to him. I’m afraid I will have to leave now, Ms. Y/L/N” he says as he gives a sad smile.

Y/N nods, understanding. “Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy” she says, smiling at him.

“Likewise, Ms. Y/L/N. I do hope we meet again” he says, giving her a charming smile. He then leaves.

Y/N wonders if she will ever see him again.

The next day, Y/N decides to apparate to Diagon Alley. She wants to buy a book that she has been waiting for ages to be released, and it’s finally here!

It can’t be bought in Hogsmeade as Diagon Alley is the only place that sells the book, which is why she’s heading there instead.

Severus wanted to accompany her, but he sadly had to attend an important meeting with the Headmaster.

As Y/N apparates there and enters the book shop, she immediately grabs the book. She has a big smile on her face. She can finally read it!

She then decides to buy a book for Severus as well - a book she knows for sure he hasn’t read before.

Once she has paid for the books and leaves the book shop, she notices a dress in the nearby clothing shop’s window. It’s absolutely gorgeous - it’s a dark green long dress with thin straps.

She decides to enter the shop. As she does so, she accidentally bumps into someone. Y/N’s face turns bright red. That’s the second time she bumps into someone, what is wrong with her?!

She then gives the woman an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, madam!” she apologises.

The woman smiles. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I don’t mind that such a beauty bumps into me - quite the opposite, in fact” she says as she chuckles.

Y/N’s cheeks turn even redder, if that’s even possible.

“W-well, my name is Y/N Y/L/N” she says, hoping to let her cheeks calm down a bit.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Narcissa Malfoy, but you may just call me Narcissa or Cissy” the woman says.

Y/N is surprised - that must be Draco Malfoy’s mother! What a coincidence that she literally bumped into both of his parents in such a short amount if time.

She doesn’t even think about the fact that both of them have flirted with her.

“So, what brought you in here, Ms. Y/L/N?” Narcissa asks her curiously.

Y/N smiles. “You may call me Y/N, Narcissa. And I was actually looking at that dress over there” she says as she points to the dark green dress.

Narcissa hums. “Well, Y/N, that dress would definitely suit you. You absolutely have to buy it! I’m afraid I will have to leave now as I have an appointment. I do hope that you will bump into me again someday” she says as she smirks.

Y/N blushes once more. “T-thank you, Narcissa. I do hope so too… To meet you again, not to bump into you, of course!” she quickly says, facepalming herself internally for saying that.

Narcissa chuckles before waving and leaving the shop. Y/N then buys the dress and hurries back to Hogwarts, hoping not to bump into any more people.

A week later, Lucius and Narcissa are making sure that everything is perfect in Malfoy Manor. Severus is coming for dinner, and he’s bringing a date.

Yes, a date! They are both so happy that their friend finally found someone. It will hopefully make him less grumpy.

As the house elves do the last chores before the guests arrive, the two Malfoys are sitting in the living room, having a glass of firewhiskey.

Lucius can’t help but think of Y/N Y/L/N. He then smiles at the thought.

Unbeknownst to him, so does Narcissa.

“What are you smiling at?” he questions, looking curious.

“Nothing. What are you smiling at?” she repeats.

“Nothing” he simply says before taking another sip of his firewhiskey.

Just then, the house elves announce the arrival of the guests.

“Ah, Severus! It’s so good to see you, my friend” Lucius says as he greets him.

He then widens his eyes a bit when he sees her - Y/N Y/L/N. So does Narcissa.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy, Narcissa. It’s good to see you both” Y/N says as she shyly smiles.

Severus huffs. She did tell him of her encounters with the Malfoys - they better NOT try anything.

Lucius and Narcissa look surprised. Severus and Y/N are… dating? They both then smirk.

Well, let the competition begin.

“Ms. Y/L/N, it is good to see you as well. Come in, have a seat” Lucius says as he gestures to the couches.

Severus and Y/N both enter as they sit down. Narcissa then hands them a glass of firewhiskey.

“Here you go, Severus” she says as she hands the first glass to the Potions Master.

She then smiles seductively as she hands the other one to his assistant. “Here you go, Y/N” she says as she makes sure their fingers touch.

Y/N smiles as she takes the offered glass. “Thank you, Narcissa” she says before taking a sip.

Narcissa gives a proud smile while both men scowl.

An hour later, dinner is served. Y/N is sitting next to Severus while the two Malfoys are sitting next to each other on the opposite side of the long table, facing their guests.

As they are eating their meal which is worth three Michelin stars, Lucius smirks. “I must say, Ms. Y/L/N, that your dress is very pretty. Almost as pretty as you” he says as he praises her looks.

She’s wearing the dress she bought in Diagon Alley when she bumped into Narcissa.

Y/N shyly smiles. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy” she says as she thanks him.

“No need to be so formal, you may call me Lucius” he says, giving her a seductive smile.

Both Severus and Narcissa glare at Lucius who glares back at them.

Oblivious to what’s going on, Y/N keeps eating the delicious meal.

An idea then pops into Severus’ head. He starts to touch her inner thigh while kissing her neck.

“S-Sev, that tickles!” Y/N says as she giggles. Severus smirks when he sees the Malfoys’ jealous faces.

Two hours pass as they finally finish the main course, the side dishes and the dessert. Which was absolutely delicious, by the way. As Severus and Lucius are discussing Draco’s school work, Narcissa turns to Y/N.

“Oh, Y/N, I have to show you my newest dress! I just bought it and need a second opinion” she says, giving an innocent look.

“Of course, Narcissa. I would love to!” Y/N says in a cheery voice.

Both women leave the two jealous-looking men as they enter Narcissa’s walk-in closet which is bigger than most people’s living room.

Narcissa then grabs a black strapless dress. She snaps her fingers as her clothing changes into the black dress.

“So, what do you think?” she purrs.

Y/N blushes. Narcissa is indeed a beautiful woman - a woman who looks even more beautiful in such a dress.

“You look… stunning” she replies, looking at Narcissa in awe.

Just then, Lucius enters. He glares at his wife who merely smirks at him.

He then clears his throat. “Severus told me your love for books, Y/N. Might I show you my personal library?” he questions.

Y/N’s eyes sparkle as she gives a bright smile. “I would love to see it, Lucius!” she exclaims, not being able to resist looking in a library.

Giving a proud smirk, Lucius leaves the walk-in closet with Y/N as he guides her by touching her back, leaving a furious Narcissa behind.

The two of them then enter the library. Y/N can’t believe her own eyes - it must be the biggest library she has ever seen! And she has seen A LOT.

“Wow, impressive” she simply says, lost for words.

Lucius chuckles. “You may take any books your heart desires” he offers.

Y/N can’t control herself as she hugs Lucius tightly, so happy to get a book. “Thank you, thank you!” she says in a happy tone.

She grabs three books - she doesn’t want to be rude and take too many.

Severus then enters, growling. “We should leave, Y/N… It’s getting late” he says, trying not to show his anger. Jealousy is written all over his face.

Oblivious to his tone as she’s used to it during the lessons, Y/N looks outside the window in the library. Merlin, it’s dark outside!

“Oh, you are right, Severus! It is getting quite late” she agrees.

As the Malfoys follow their guests to the door, Y/N turns to look at them. “Thank you so much for having us, I have had a good time” she says as she smiles.

Meanwhile, the three others glare at each other which Y/N doesn’t seem to notice.

She then hugs Narcissa. “Thank you for showing me your dress, Narcissa. You looked absolutely stunning!” she says, praising the woman. Narcissa smirks as the two men growl.

Y/N then hugs Lucius as well. “Thank you so much for the books, Lucius! I cannot wait to read them!” she says as she squeals. Now it’s Lucius’ turn to smirk.

Y/N then approaches Severus. “Thank you so much for bringing me here, Severus. I truly had a lot of fun” she says as she then kisses him on his lips.

Severus immediately kisses back, keeping her close by wrapping his arms around her protectively.

Once they finish the kiss, he gives the Malfoys a triumphant smirk. A smirk that smugly says “Ha! She’s mine”.

Y/N then politely waves as she and Severus leave, apparating back to Hogwarts.

Lucius and Narcissa might have flirted with her, but Y/N Y/L/N is Severus’ girlfriend after all.

———————————————

Author’s note:

If you liked this, then you might also like Mysterious Husband (SS)!

The next one shot is “Love in a Chaotic World” (V/B) while the next HP one shot is Always Alone (SS x student! reader).

Taglist:

@nickangel13

#harry potter #fanfiction #severus snape #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #severus snape x reader #lucius malfoy x reader #narcissa malfoy x reader #reader #one shot #one shots

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justafairytailofinnocence · 2 years

Note

An you write teen serverus snape x reader when they do love potion in classes and he snape relises he loves the chubby female ravenclaw reader

Hello dear💖, thanks for your request, so sorry for the long wait.

Teen Severus Snape x Reader🎇🖤Hope🎆

“Flubberworm mucus,

Combine slowly with stone bezoar and bat wings-“

I had always succeeded in potions, it was my strong point, never once did I fail a class even more, so it was all I had. I had never befriended anyone aside from someone whom I betrayed, but that was a long time ago. I still see her and every time I do my heart wrenches with regret, I had no idea that it would affect me this bad until another student walked in class.

I had never seen such beauty but unfortunately my heart was still hurt from when I betrayed Lily. “Hello is this seat taken?” the young girl asked, “I’m in Ravenclaw you see, I didn’t mean to disturb you” I looked and looked at her as my mind fell adrift to the girl’s eyes.

“Um sure” I spoke awkwardly “Your rather quiet for a Slytherin huh, normally they speak about their plans or purity”. “I’m y/n by the way, and you are?” she asked in a soft voice “S-Severus Snape” I was so shy it was annoying.

I couldn’t even speak to the girl’s face; I was a blushing mess and often the teacher reported me. “s-sorry sir, I didn’t mean to dismiss you” I was quietly ashamed however I never thought of the moment the girl did something aspiring to my eyes. “No Professor, it was me, I was the culprit Severus was only engaging in my conversation” he looked at the brave Ravenclaw.

In that moment I realised this small crush was no longer apparent, but something more had yearned. Perhaps it was just a fantasy, but the girl had entranced me to the point, I think a crush was over exaggerated rather more.

“I’m in love with you”

My mind was settled on the conclusion, and no longer did I feel the lingering pain I had once with Lily. I felt confident, lustful, adoration and all the rest of the words that collide with love. My heart was healed, I knew this girl gave me hope, a hope in which I would’ve never thought I would ever experience again.

I quickly got up as the Ravenclaw left class, “Y/n! wait!” I ran to her, I breathed in heavily. Looking into her eyes, never had I blushed redder. “Ha what’s going on you look like a red beet sev” she laughed “I, I, I” Merlin if I could obliviate myself it would be now. “Don’t worry, now what did you want to ask me” Y/n seemed rather excited, the good thing Is I won’t get bullied every time I attempt to talk to her. “I, uh I love you- I mean your hair, I love your hair” I died inside, I died right there on the spot, Merlin I would rather a dementor then this.

The girl began to laugh, I was astounded, I had made a fool of myself and even more so disappointed the newest addition to my love life. “My hair is rather beautiful, isn’t it” she seemed rather happy, she wasn’t gagging nor repulsed by my appearance. “Come let’s go to class together mr Sev” she held out her hand as I took it.

We walked together to class and in my mind, I knew hope was on my side.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta✨

#Harry potter oneshot #Teen severus snape #Severus Snape x reader #Severus snape #Severus snape oneshot

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Beautiful Ghosts

Ghost!Reader X Draco

Summary: Request: @sydthekid1518: I had an Idea for a draco fic, where y/n is a ghost that’s fairly popular with the students and staff, and draco falls for her and stuff? And then maybe y/n and Harry create a plan that would allow reader to come back to life and stuff and be with draco.

A/N: Happy spooky season to all and to all a good night filled with Draco Malfoy. I’m so excited about how this turned out and that I got it done before Halloween because the odds weren’t looking to hot not gonna lie, but here it is and it’s beautiful. As always, let me know what y’all think,,,

“Y/n, please don’t disturb my students,” Snape droned with a monotone voice.

“You’ve got no power over me, Severus,” I laughed, ghosting away from his Slytherins working on Polyjuice potion.

“But I do have control in this classroom, dead or not Miss Y/n, this is my domain,” Snape argued, ruffled.

“I’m eternally bonded to this school. It’s my domain more than it is yours,” I countered, perched on his desk.

“Blasted ghosts,” A boy muttered, catching my attention, “No respect for authority,”

Tilting my head, I made my way over to him, studying the young Slytherin. He was about the age that I was when I had died, moved on, crossed the veil—whatever. His steady grey eyes and twisted sneer told me all that I needed to know about him.

“Another Malfoy,” I mused. “Interesting... And where’s your respect for the dead Mr. Malfoy?”

His eyes went wide at the idea that I was addressing him at all. Like I spooked him. Imagine that, a ghost spooking someone.

“Enough Ms. Y/n. Kindly refrain from scaring my students if you must stay,” Snape intervened. “I’m not scared,” Malfoy shot back.

“Boo!” I teased before passing through the walls of the dungeon and into my favorite spot in the entire castle, even living: the library.

I never had so much time on my hands before being dead, and now I could just take a book and read. Pince had been able to enchant them in such a way that I was able to hold them and turn their pages still. I was in the middle of a riveting tale about a boy who never grew up and had his destiny forced upon him and could fly. Perched on one of the tops of the shelves, I was lost in another world of magic.

“I didn’t know you could read,” I heard the same condescending voice from Severus’ potions class earlier that day.

“Little Malfoy,” I smiled down at him, closing my book. “And why would you assume that? I don’t look that stupid, do I?”

“Well, no,” He fumbled. “But you’re a ghost, you’re dead,”

“Yes, and I like to read, anything else?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t call me little Malfoy. My name’s Draco,” He huffed.

“But it annoys you,” I mocked a pout. “And you are a little Malfoy, a bit taller than your father, but young all the same,”

“Who are you calling young? We’re the same age,” His voice raised enough that Pince had to shush him.

“I was born in 1776, I think you’re a little young,”

“1776!?” Draco’s eyes bulged. “But... how? You’re...” Pince hushed him again. I floated down and perched on the desk, trying and failing to contain my laughter.

“Oh, so now you care little Malfoy?” I teased lightly. “What happened to your dismissal of spirits not hours ago?” He didn’t have an answer for that. He just stared and didn’t dare to meet my eyes. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you some time, but you’re going to be late for McGonagall if you don’t get going,”

Flustered, Draco headed out of the library and I watched him go. Knowing that Remus had a class this hour with the infamous Harry Potter, I headed over and perched on a desk in the back.

“Miss Y/n,” Remus acknowledged, “Perhaps you’d like to aid us today as we learn about ghosts and spirits?” Even though he had grown quite a bit over the years, there was still the same shine in his eyes when he was able to teach—even if it wasn’t a rag-tag group of marauders.

“So... you’re a ghost?” A young Hermione asked, a girl who spent a lot of hours in my library.

“Yes,” I smiled at her. “There are different types of ghosts however,”

“Oh, yes, Poltergeists, Funnels, Whisps, Orbs, and Shades,” She said matter-of-factly.

“Exactly, and Hogwarts has them all,” I looked to Remus who nodded for me to continue. “Most of you know that Peeves is a Poltergeist, a trickster loud ghost. Sometimes they were loud and violent, sometimes... well sometimes you have something like Peeves.” The class laughed.

“I’m sure you all have heard of the Grey Lady?” Remus interjected. “Helena Ravenclaw was murdered by the Bloody Baron and spends the rest of her days here at Hogwarts, they are both what we classify as Funnel ghosts. Ghosts who visit loved ones or loved places,”

“What about Whisps?” An intrigued Weasley asked.

“Well, most others are Whisps,” I explained. “Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar, and most others you see strolling about. There is no strict reason that they’re here, other than they chose not to move on, or felt their work on earth was not completed.”

“Orbs are normally the spirits of animals or humans travelling about,” I continued, “They mainly show up in photographs. It wasn’t till after I died that cameras were invented, and they were found,”

“Any what kind of ghost are you?” A shy kid in the back asked. The class of kids turned to me, all expectant.

“I’m a Shade,” I explained. “It means that when I died, I wasn’t meant to. My soul knowing that, remained, and here I am,”

“Shades are very rare in the Wizarding World,” Remus cut in, “Not many are killed before their time, and many of them are very young,”

“Aren’t Shades allowed to come back though?” Hermione asked. “Because they were wrongfully killed? Doesn’t fate allow them another chance?”

Remus and I shared a look. I remembered when he had asked me that same question when he was no more than a third year as well. There was a solemn sorrow in his eyes.

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly. “There is a possibility, but the odds are almost impossible. Most of them have to do around prophecies.”

Class had ended, and Hermione waved as she went to leave. I lingered behind a bit with Remus for old times’ sake. He was one who had always been kind to me. I was one who never judged him for being a werewolf before he found his marauders.

“Sirius escaped from Azkaban,” He whispered softly, his gaze fixed on the papers on his desk. “I... I thought I was over it. Over him. He had my best friends killed,”

Pity flooded my chest as I hovered over to him, my hand ghosting above his.

“That wasn’t your fault Remus...” Was I going to give away the truth that I knew? Or would I keep it a secret? “And it wasn’t Sirius’ either,”

“How can you say that!” Remus slammed his hand on the desk. “He gave away Lily and James’ location! Then he killed Peter!”

“Remus,” I shook my head. “I can’t tell you everything, because it’s not in the stars, but... your friend isn’t who you think he is,”

A quiet moment passed between us and rather than get upset at me like I had thought he would, he spoke softly and surely.

“You’re... you’re saying there’s hope?”

“There’s always hope,” I offered a soft smile. “For all of us... even me,”

“How are you doing with that? The prophecy?” He asked.

I sighed and shook my head. “I might really be stuck like this for the rest of... forever...”

“Is there anything...?”

“No,” I denied softly. “Interfering with a prophecy can ruin it,”

“Can,” Remus stressed. “Not that it will,”

“But is it worth that risk?” I countered. “I could lose my one shot to come back. To be human again,”

“If I could be human again, I’d take any chance I could,” Remus’ eyes held a sadness that very few could sympathize with. One of those was me.

“Perhaps you’re right,” I murmured and let him be, drifting around the halls for a bit then back to the library to think some more and maybe find the right answer.

What I didn’t expect to find however was Draco, fast asleep where we had spoken earlier, draped over a few books and handwritten notes. I hadn’t noticed the late hour, sometimes time did elude me, and the days seemed to run together.

I didn’t want to wake the young Malfoy, instead, I peered at the books underneath him. Potions books, it seemed. Supposing that a Slytherin might have a partiality to Snape’s class, there was no need to question why he’d rather work on this subject than the others. Knowing Pince would chase Draco out of the library if he didn’t wake, my notion to not disturb him fell to the wayside.

“Malfoy!” I whispered loudly. “Draco, wake up!”

It was useless to try and shake him awake, I wasn’t able to. I could however pull the book out from under his resting head. So, I did.

“Bloody hell,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What’d you do that for?”

“You fell asleep?”

“And that was the only way you know how to wake a person?” He snapped, blinking into consciousness.

I gave him a flat look and reached out to touch him. He shied away, but it was in vain because my hand passed right through his material body.

“Oh,” He muttered. “But you can touch the books?”

“Pince and I worked on that together,” I informed him. “Did you think I would spend eternity and not figure out how to read?”

“I... uh,” He stammered, blushing a bit. “How come I’ve never met a ghost like you before?”

“And that means?” I pressed, perching on the desk.

“Well, all of the other ghosts are... I don’t know... stuck in their ways? Not sad about being ghosts? Haven’t kept up on things like reading?”

“You think I’m sad about being a ghost?” I mused.

“I... you—I mean,” He stammered, looking down in embarrassment. “You just seem... optimistically hopeless,” It was almost mumbled through his exhaustion.

“You know those words have opposite meaning, right?” I teased softly. “And... I’m a Shade. I doubt you’ve met another before like me,”

“A Shade?”

“Do you not pay attention in Remus’ class?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t have his class until tomorrow,” Draco dismayed. “And it’s a stupid class anyway,”

“Defense against the dark arts isn’t stupid,” I refuted. “Especially with Remus teaching it,”

“You knew him then... when he went here. Professor Lupin,” Draco noted.

“Yes,” Lost in thought, a quietness passed before I spoke again. “When you learn what a Shade is, you’ll understand,”

“You could just tell me,” Draco whined, listlessly tired.

“But then you won’t pay attention in class,” I smiled. “Go on to bed, Draco. I’m not going anywhere,”

____________________________

Draco sulked in bed that night, thinking about you. Thinking about what a Shade was. Of course, he didn’t wait for class in the morning, instead he took out his DADA book and began to read up on ghosts. And he read. And read. And read. And barely found anything about what a Shade was. All that he knew was that you died when before your time. Maybe that was why he saw the sadness in your eyes.

He had every intention to be at Lupin’s class that day, but having Mythical Creatures beforehand, things hadn’t gone as planned.

“There’s always one,” Your voice sounded amused. “Why am I not surprised it was you, Little Malfoy?”

“It was the bloody hippogriff,” Draco snapped back.

“And somehow I don’t think that’s the entire truth,” You mused, hovering at his bedside. Until Pomfrey gave him the clear to leave, he was stuck with you.

“Won’t you just leave me alone?” He groaned, closing his eyes and laying back on the lumpy pillows of the hospital cot.

“Did you not want to learn about Shades? You’re going to miss Remus’ class after all,” The smile he heard in your voice made him look over to you, skeptical.

Your offer was tempting. Very tempting. He didn’t care much about magic other than excelling at it, therefore things that didn’t pertain to his advancement—mythical creatures and the like— held no inkling to him. And yet, you were a mystery he didn’t mind learning about. He wanted to know more about you. And you specifically.

“I guess, since I’m stuck here,” He tried to play it off as nonchalance, but you raised an eyebrow at him, seeing right through his charade.

“Well, Little Malfoy,” You hovered and perched on the end of his bed. “What do you know?”

“I... uh. Shades are people who have died before their time,” He stammered, not sure why he was so nervous.

“Quite,” You nodded. “Anything else?”

“Our book didn’t have anything else,” He admitted.

You went pensive a moment then nodded. “I suppose that you’d learn more about me in Divination than the Dark Arts,”

“Divination? You’ve got to be bloody joking! That class is a circus!” Draco exclaimed, wincing when he moved his arm too much.

“Perhaps,” You didn’t berate him, but seemed to be lost in thought once more. “But all Shades are tied to prophecies.”

“All of them?” Draco pressed.

“The fates understand that these souls left before their time, and give them another chance, a prophecy... to come back and live one more time.”

“So, you have the chance to live again?” His genuine curiosity seemed to shock both of you. “How?”

“If the prophecy is fulfilled, then I get to live again,” You said it as if it were obvious.

“So, why haven’t you, I don’t know... fulfilled it?” Draco asked.

You laughed something sad and soft. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve read every prophecy, every book, every scribble. I’ve tried everything... after so many centuries, you give up hope and accept your fate,”

“But this wasn’t your fate,” He argued back. “You were meant to live, back then, whatever that life was,”

“Do you know what happened when I was young, before I died, Little Malfoy?” You spoke, and he could hear the age in your voice though you liked no older than he was. It was your sorrow that aged you. He waited for you to continue. “I was born in 1776, the year the Americans went to war with the King of England. At the time we were living in the French countryside with my aunt because my father had gone to fight in the war. He was a general,” A smile ghosted your lips. “My father died in the war... the battle of Yorktown... that’s what it’s called today. Back then it was just a letter and inheritance money that went to my brother,”

“Hang on, you’re saying that your father fought in the American War of Independence? Under the king?”

“So, he can be taught,” You smiled at him. “Yes, the king at the time was a wizard and until parliament and the ministry were born and declared that muggles and wizards should rule themselves. Of course, the ministry was formed in the beginning of that century, but it took the war for them to call the final straw.”

“So, your father died in the war, that doesn’t explain what happened to you,” Draco pointed out, deeply invested.

“Well, tell me, what happened in France after that war ended?”

“The French Revolution,”

Your warm smile had the same effect as the sun. “Yes, and as I said, I was in France at the time, being tutored at home for the summer. Muggle girls weren’t allowed to go to school back then... I travelled to Hogwarts to receive schooling and even then, I was only allowed to learn Herbology and Potions. At least those two classes stayed the same,” You sounded sad and wistful. “But the revolutionists were going for the rich, any sort of rich. And at the time, they saw knowledge as wealth and power, and I had a reputation for being able to read and attending a private school out of the country and well...”

“They killed you because you knew how to read?” Draco distressed, sitting up, enraptured by your tale. “That’s so... stupid,”

“It was. But perhaps it was my own fault, I wouldn’t deny that I could read. I was proud.” Your smile faded again as melancholy settled on your face. “Now it seems that’s all I do. Fate is funny like that...”

“You’re free to go Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey’s voice seemed to draw you both from whatever world had been created with your words.

He had to blink a few times to come to grips with the fact that he was currently in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, and not centuries behind, trying to imagine death for the reason of knowledge. There was an awkward moment between the two of you as you both seemed to realize that you were no longer int eh late eighteenth century. You offered a smile and left without another word, a curious look on your face as you left.

That was the last time he saw you that day, and that week for that matter, but he always wondered what you were doing. What were you reading today? What was your prophecy? Was it really as hopeless as you said it was? Was there a reason that he found himself caring?

______________________

“Oh, hello Harry,” I stood from the corner of Remus’ office, intrigued that the young Potter had come. He looked so much like his father that my heart ached for Remus and to imagine what he felt when he saw Harry.

“Y/n,” Harry seemed surprised. “I... uh... you know Professor Lupin?”

“Well I was here when he went to Hogwarts himself, so yes, I’m quite fond of him if you can believe it,” I smiled as Remus eyed the situation.

“Is there something that you needed Harry?” Remus asked, trying to sound professional, but I could hear the sentiment in his voice.

“The map...” Harry turned slightly pink.

A smile grew on my face. “You have the Marauder’s Map?” I almost laughed. “How in the world did you get that? Oh, if your father knew,” I did laugh this time.

Remus shot me a sharp look and Harry looked at me in wonder.

“My father? You knew my father?” The realization seemed to dawn him.

“Yes, well,” Remus interjected sharply. “Don’t get caught again Potter,”

“Why haven’t you told him?” I demanded as soon as Harry left. “Remus, come on, that’s not fair to Harry,”

“I’m not the one to tell him though! I can’t be!” He protested and I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“Remus, I’ve known you a long time. And I’ve known James and Lily. They would want you to talk to him. They would want you apart of his life,” I argued, or perhaps encouraged softly.

“Maybe you’re right,” Remus mumbled.

“Of course, I am,” I smiled. “It’ll work out Re, with Sirius, and with Harry,”

“I hope you’re right,”

I left him to his thoughts and on my way to the library, I was ambushed by the younger Potter. Not that I wasn’t expecting it, I knew that Harry would have questions for me as soon as he knew I knew his father.

“Hello Harry,” I smiled.

“You know about my dad,” He burst out, hope in his eyes and tone.

“And your mother,” I smiled and perched on the windowsill nearby.

“Can you tell me about them? Please?” His eyes went glossy with tears that he blinked away.

“Your mother was bold, but still kind and gentle. She looked out for the little guy. She rooted for the underdog and protected the younger years of any House. She was always kind to me. Her and Remus both.” The memory was fond, if it was a memory. Did ghosts have memories after they were dead?

“And my dad?” He clung to every word.

“He... was a bit like you. Always finding trouble whether it was his fault or not. Totally deserved to be smacked a few times... but the war changed him. He grew up rather quickly. Into a protective caring young man. Almost everyone had eyes for him, but he only saw your mother,”

“Do... you think they would be proud of me?” His gaze dropped to his beat-up sneakers.

“Harry,” I called his attention. “You’re their son, they’ll always be proud of you,”

“But—”

“No buts,” I interjected. “That’s all it takes for you to make them proud, I promise,”

He nodded and mumbled a thanks before taking off toward the Gryffindor dorm. Finding solace in the library, I began to read again. Maybe a week had passed. Perhaps two. I wasn’t sure. I was so wrapped up in my books that I became lost to time. Until a blond-haired boy came in, his nose stuck in a book.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again Little Malfoy,” I smiled, from my perch in the library. He didn’t acknowledge me, causing me to frown. “Draco?” I ghosted down and perched on the table next to him. “Are you ghosting a ghost?”

Though he ignored me I could see the smile that twitched at his lips. That gave me little hope. “Is everything alright?” I asked, genuine concern coloring my voice.

“Ask Potter,” Draco snapped. “You seem to fancy him lately,”

“Excuse me?” I was taken aback. “Harry? He just wanted to know about his parents, that’s all,”

Draco frowned at this and he finally looked at me. “His parents?”

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like he has a lot of people who know his parents and are willing to tell him anything. Dumbledore has made almost everyone vow not to talk to him, but what good is a vow to someone who’s already in the grave?” I shrugged. “Poor kid knows nothing,”

“I...” Draco didn’t seem to have the words. Instead he looked back down at his book. I smiled and rolled my eyes at his antics.

“If you care that much, you are still my favorite Little Malfoy,” His cheeks tinged pink and I laughed. “You’re something else Malfoy, you know that?”

“Says the girl who died for admitting that she could read instead of lying,” He raised an eyebrow at me. I chuckled and shrugged.

“Says the boy who avoided me for what, two weeks, because I talked to a boy about his dead parents,” I mused.

“It wasn’t two weeks,” Draco grumbled. “Nine days,”

“Oh, forgive me,” I laughed. “Nine days.”

He smiled and looked back down at his notes. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him smile and not sneer.

“So, nine days,” He prompted. “I assume you haven’t left the library... read anything interesting?”

I laughed and somehow the hours passed as Draco and I spoke about books and stories we had read as kids, and the ones we were currently invested in. It shocked me to know that he was an avid reader, of fantasy novels, nonetheless. Though I had read just about everyone that he had mentioned, there were a few that I added to my mental list of his that I said I would check out. He seemed sincerely happy at my interest of the books he read.

“Father thought they were childish,” He muttered when I asked him about it. “Fairytales and fantasies,”

“That’s stupid,” I scoffed, and Draco gaped at me, aghast that I would dare to call something his father said ‘stupid.’ It made me pause. “You... you know you don’t have to always agree with your parents,”

His gaze cast downward. “I don’t want to disappoint them,”

My face furrowed. “You’re they’re son, that’s enough for them to be proud,”

“You don’t know my parents,” He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I think the last time they were proud of me, is when I was sorted into Slytherin.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I protested.

“You don’t know my parents,” Draco argued again.

“I do,” I retorted. “Or I did,”

The notion seemed to dawn on Draco as he stared up at me with wonder in his eyes.

“You did,” He realized. “Can you tell me about them... have they always been so...”

“Strict?” I offered.

“Suffocating,” Draco supplied.

I pressed my lips together and thought a moment.

“Your father, perhaps. I never spoke to him much, and he never paid me mind. But you mother,” I smiled at the memories that came flooding back. “She was bold, cunning. She loved her sisters with a fierce passion.” My smile. “The three of them were some of the brightest witches I’d ever seen,” I glanced over to him. “You have her eyes, her same spirit,”

A smile drew on his lips as his face turned a soft shade of pink. “Do you know that because you’re a ghost?” He mused.

“No, I’m just a girl who can read character pretty well. After seeing so many faces pass through here, and reading so many stories, there are those who stand out and stay with you. Your mother... she stood out to me. And I can see her in your eyes,” My demeanor softened as I realized the words I was saying and if I could have, I would have blushed.

“Thank you,” He whispered as the clock chimed a late hour.

“You should head back,” I sighed softly. “Get some rest,”

“Why don’t I ever see you near the Slytherin dorm?” Draco asked, gathering his things.

“I’d rather not cross paths with the Baron,” I admitted.

“The Baron? Why?” Draco frowned; his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Never you mind,” I smiled. “Get to bed Little Malfoy,”

“Don’t call me that,” He grumbled, trudging out of the library.

The night progressed as did the month and I went from one book to another, soon searching for a book I hadn’t in a long time. My diary from when I was alive. Published as its own book that I had found a few decades ago. Tucked into the pages was what held my fate. My prophecy.

I went to the shelf in which I knew my book had its home, but it wasn’t there. Instead a sliver of time carved away by my missing book. Drifting over to Pince I asked her about where my book had gone. She told me that Malfoy had checked it out and had it for about a week—since the day we spent in the infirmary together.

For the first time in a long time I felt... embarrassed that my story and thoughts were on display for anyone to read. I never cared before, but this felt different.

Cursing the late hour, I knew that there was no way to get to Draco now. The Bloody Baron was protective about other ghosts coming into the Slytherin dorms. I’d have to find him in the morning then. I considered loitering outside the Slytherin portrait, but I also did not want to go anywhere near the Bloody Baron. I had heard and read enough.

So instead I headed to the Astronomy Tower to watch the stars again, having silent conversations with them, wondering if they’d ever grant me life again.

“You’re glowing,”

The voice startled me enough that I actually jumped. The irony of scaring a ghost. I turned to see Draco behind me, his eyes glued to my shimmering skin.

“Yes, all ghosts do it under the moon and stars,” I noted. “By the way, can I have my book back?” I stood, going over to him.

“Your book?” He questioned.

“My book,” I restressed. “My diary? That you have from the library? The one that has my—” I stopped myself.

“Your prophecy.” Draco finished, offering me the book that he had drawn from his robes. “Yeah, I know.”

I stared at him curiously, pulling the book back into the security of my arms, where it belonged. That uncertain feeling returned to my chest.

“You know it’s rude to read a girl’s diary,” I retorted, defensive.

“It’s a published book in the library, anyone can read it,” Draco rolled his eyes. I gave him a flat look and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, have you figured out what it means?”

I sighed softly and shook my head in defeat. “The only thing I’m sure of is the great star is Sirius,”

“Sirius, like Sirius Black? Escaped Azkaban criminal?” Draco exasperated.

“Well, the star is his name sake. But I’m sure you of all people know that Draco,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Your family has a knack for celestial namesakes. If I remember correctly, Sirius is your mother’s cousin,”

“What?” Draco demanded. “No! There is no way!”

“Draco,” I reached out for him in vain as he paced in anger and confusion. “Draco will you calm down?” I nearly shouted.

“Calm down!? How can I when I know that I’m related to that criminal!?” He demanded.

“Sirius isn’t a criminal!” I argued back. “He didn’t kill Peter or those people!” I gasped, covering my mouth in shame, my eyes wide. That was a secret that I wasn’t supposed to tell.

“What do you mean he didn’t kill those people?” Draco sneered, stalking up to me.

“I—I’m not supposed to...” I took a step back, ghostly tears welling in my eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to... Merlin,” I cried, sliding to the ground.

Draco’s demeanor changed from anger to worried and concerned. Not that I noticed through my distress. I felt as if I had just betrayed one of my best friends.

“Y/n, what... what in the world are you talking about?” Draco asked sitting beside me, a failed attempt to reach out and comfort me.

“I promised. I promised I wouldn’t tell what I knew until the time was right,” I sobbed. “Bloody hell, he’ll never trust me again,” I squeaked.

“Who?” Draco demanded.

I looked at him, wide eyed with fear, shaking my head softly. “I... I can’t. I’m sorry Draco,”

I dematerialized and rematerialized in a quiet portion of the castle grounds, away from the rest of the students, among the woods. The trees welcomed me and the further I walked in, the less tied to the castle I felt. I came to a lake and sat beside it. Crying tears that would never fall in my undead state, I stared at the water and my lack of reflection.

“I’m so sorry Sirius,” I wept softly. “I didn’t mean to tell him... I was just defending you,”

“I’m surprised you kept the secret this long,”

Again, I jumped, startled by the voice behind me.

“Hey there Spooks,” Sirius gave a lopsided smile, the years in Azkaban resting in his eyes and in the lines on his face.

“Sirius,” I gasped. “What are you doing? It’s not safe here!” I protested.

“I couldn’t leave my girl to cry, now could I?” He smirked, before his expression sobered.

“You should,” I sniffed. “I’m so sorry Sirius, it slipped out,”

“I know,” He held his hands up in a calming effort. “I knew it would, and it’s okay. Who did you tell? It wasn’t Moony was it?”

“No,” I looked down. “But you need to tell him Sirius, he deserves to know,”

“He won’t even talk to me. He thinks that I betrayed James and Lily and killed all of his friends,” Sirius toed at the dirt—the same tick he had in his Hogwarts years when he had been caught in a lie or prank.

“But you didn’t,” I protested. “He still loves you Sirius, I can see it in his eyes and when he talks about you and James...”

“He—no,” Sirius shook his head. “That’s not for you to worry about,”

“Do not make me mother you,” I threatened. “Talk to Remus,”

“I will,” Sirius sighed. “When the time is right,”

“As a girl who’s waited for centuries for the right time... talk to him as soon as you can,” There was a pity-filled look on his face that I brushed off.

“Any luck with that? Your prophecy?” He seemed almost hopeful.

“No,” I sighed. “But there is one who took the time to ask this year. Like Remus did his first year,” The memory was a soft spot for both of us.

“You were his first friend,” Sirius smiled at the same memory. “So, who is it this year?”

“Little Malfoy,”

Sirius snorted. “We both know you don’t have a sense of humor, drop the act,”

“I’m ser—” He gave me a look and I paused to rephrase. “I’m telling the truth. It was Draco who asked, who read my diary, and knows about the prophecy,” I hesitated. “He’s also the one I told,” My gaze dropped to the ground waiting for the backlash.

“Malfoy!?” Sirius demanded. “You told Malfoy!?”

“I’m sorry! I told you I was sorry!” I shouted back, bristling, feeling my body shudder. Sirius seemed to notice and took a few paces away and composed himself.

I dared to speak. “All he knows is that you didn’t kill Peter. That’s all. I’m so sorry Sirius,” I turned, and he was gone. “Fine! Leave!” I shouted. “Like always... like everyone...”

I let out a scream of frustration that was carried away with the wind. Letting out a sigh of defeat I wandered up to the castle again.

“Y/n?” For the third time tonight, I jumped at the call of my name. It was Draco again.

“Draco, look,” I started. “I...”

“No,” He stopped me softly. “I’m sorry... I...” He shook his head and took off down the hall towards the Slytherin dorms. Chasing after him, he was too far gone, and I was face to face with the Baron.

“Oh, could this night get any worse?” I shouted to no one in particular. “I don’t mean to trespass, apologies.”

“Stay out of my territory and away from my students, you little harlot,” The Baron sneered.

“Gladly,” I growled back. “Arse,” I muttered as I ghosted back to the upper levels of the castle.

Utterly lost on what to do, I found myself by the Black Lake, staring up at the moon and stars. I stayed there until the sun rose over the dark waters, painting the valleys in a golden light. I remained there, watching the sun and moon dance in the sky in an unchangeable waltz that continued for eternity.

“They said you were out here,”

I didn’t jump this time at the sound of his voice as the moon rose to her duet again.

“Hello, Draco,” I murmured softly. “Come to watch the stars with me?”

“Sure,” I could hear the smile in his voice as he sat beside me on the bank of the lake, the only sound was the music of the night, the lake lapping at the small beach, and his gentle breaths.

“I... I’m really sorry,” He murmured softly. “For that night, I didn’t mean to get so angry. I wasn’t upset with you...” Silence fell softly between us. “My parents never told me... I wrote to my mother...” My eyes widened as I gazed over at him, his pale skin almost having the same affect that mine did in the moon light. “I never knew...”

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“Merlin don’t apologize to me,” He laughed hopelessly.

“Well I did sort of freak out on you, so... sorry.”

He shrugged and his gaze fixed on the moonlit water. “My father thinks it’s absurd that I’m talking to you... and I think my mother is slightly worried about me for it,”

“Any particular reason?” I mused.

“Father has always been against those different than him in any way... my mother probably worries that I’m not making friends...talking to ghosts...” A smile toyed at his lips at the mention of his mother.

“Are we not friends then?” I teased lightly, causing him to laugh.

“Sure,” He rolled his eyes at me, this time causing me to laugh. “Do you miss them?” He asked after a quiet moment.

“Who?”

“Your parents... your family?” He seemed almost afraid to ask.

I pondered the question. “Yes, sometimes... but I’ve spent a lot of years wasting tears that will never fall over people I can never see again... you move on and learn to live after a while... well as much as a ghost can live,”

“You can’t cry, can you?” He came to the fact easier and saner than most did.

I shook my head. “I can feel bitter sorrow, the worst loss, but I can never shed a tear,” I chuckled humorlessly. “The irony, I have the most to mourn and I can’t even cry,”

“I’m sorry,”

I shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time without being able to cry... just reminds me that I’ll never be quite human again,”

“But you could be,” He had more hope than I ever had about the fact.

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “That stupid prophecy,”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,”

“You’ve haven’t spent centuries wondering what it meant,” I argued back:

“In the days when evil lurks around every corner;

The condemned will become innocent;

And the innocent will become condemned;

True love can reanimate a deceased heart;

Under the star of Great Dog;

She will become alive as time is altered;

Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.”

“True love,” I scoffed again; my lips pressed together. “Like some sort of stupid fairytale,”

“I thought you said that fairytales weren’t stupid,” Draco raised an eyebrow at me smirking.

“They’re not,” I rolled my eyes. “Believing that there’s true love out there to save me? That’s stupid,”

“Then maybe there’s no hope for any of us,” Draco sighed. “If someone like you can’t find true love, where’s the hope for the rest of us,”

A smile ghosted me lips at his words as I looked over to him, his eyes still trained on the water.

“You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that Malfoy?” His eyes darted to mine as his cheeks tinged pink.

“Will you come back inside?” He asked softly. “The library isn’t as interesting without you there,”

“Sure,” I smiled warmly at him.

Fall turned to winter turned to spring, and Draco and I spent a lot more time together than I cared to admit. He was almost easier to talk to than anyone else I had met. And that was saying something, because I knew Remus Lupin, who was fascinated with my fascination of the young Malfoy.

But all the same, I found myself crave Draco’s company more and more and cursing the Baron for not letting me see him while he was in his dorm. It was rough when he came down with a cold and I wasn’t able to see him for a week. No number of books could distract me from the fact that he wasn’t there to talk to. That he wasn’t here to talk to me. I had never missed anyone like this before.

But when he felt better, we’d press curfew to mere minutes just to get another word in with each other. Then he’d have to be human and I’d have to remember that I didn’t belong in his world and never could. It didn’t stop me, however, from finding and talking to him the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Then there was a day in late spring that caught my attention as Sirius had finally gotten to Harry and his friends, but things had gone from bad to worse as I watched the scene unfold, doing the only thing I could think of, I spirited away to find Remus. He would know what to do, he would know how to help.

After I had explained what I had seen, Remus grabbed his wand and took off towards the Whomping Willow. I followed him, and as soon as I left the castle, I felt the dark presence of the dementors around me.

“No!” I shouted, going up to meet them, and for the first time in a long time gave into my spiritual power, long enough to hold them off and let Remus pass through safely.

I hovered over the Shrieking Shack, keeping the dementors as bay, away from Sirius, away from Remus. They didn’t dare to go near my pure light that was amplified by the full moon. Soon I saw the three of them emerge, Peter in chains, when the light of the full moon hit my little Remus.

With a cry of desperation, I did my best to keep the dementors away as I watched the horrors unfold before me before I couldn’t take it any long and chased after Remus, who was not a wolf into the wood.

“Remus!?” I shouted; my voice lost with the wind. “Remus, it’s me! Please come out!” I caught sight of Hermione and Harry and gestured that they should leave, and quickly. “Remus!?”

I heard a growl and turned, seeing golden scared eyes.

“Hey,” I cooed softly. “You’re alright, you can’t hurt me,”

A pained howl left his lips.

“I know,” I replied. “But you’re going to be alright, let get you back, yeah? To Prongs and Pads, they’re waiting for you.” Tears I wanted to cry weren’t shed at the pitiful heartbreaking whine that left his lips.

But he let me lead him back to the Shrieking Shack all the same. I stayed with him until McGonagall and Dumbledore came. There was a soft thank you from the both of them. I drifted back to the castle, pacing in anxiety.

“Y/n?” It was Draco’s voice. I turned.

“Draco, it’s not safe!” I squeaked. “What are you doing out of bed!?”

“I had to see you,” He confessed. “There are rumors, about Black and Lupin... I thought you’d... Are you alright?”

“Draco, really,” I glanced around, cursing that I couldn’t drag him inside to where it was safer. “It’s not safe for you out here,”

“Bloody hell, Y/n, what about you!?”

“I’m already dead! So, unless you’d like to join me!” I shouted, realizing after the fact what I had said. “Draco, I didn’t mean that,”

“You’re keeping things from me,” It was a broken accusation. “About Sirius, about Remus,”

“Draco, please,” I pulled away. “I... I have to go, I have to make sure that he’s alright,” My eyes trailed up to the top of the tower, knowing that I may have been the reason that Sirius was in chains again.

“No!” Draco shouted, drawing my attention.

He had never demanded anything of me before, not like this. It wasn’t the fact that he told me to stop, it was the notion that he had found his own voice in it that caused me to pause. I waited for him to continue.

“I’ve spent all year, all of my three years here, knowing you, and getting to know you and I’m not going to let you walk away again! I want to know! I don’t want this you can’t tell me act. If anyone, you can tell me. Can’t you trust me? Please,” His voice broke, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Draco,” My non-material heart broke a bit as he stood before me, vulnerable. Shaking and terrified I nodded. “Remus... is a werewolf. Sirius is an Animagus. Peter betrayed the Potters, and Sirius went to confront him. Peter faked his death and killed all those people and it was blamed on Sirius...” In my nervousness I began to ramble:

“...and Sirius and Remus confronted Peter tonight and Harry and his friends were there and I had to fight off dementors so that Sirius would be okay because I couldn’t bear to see him get hurt for something he didn’t do and then I had to go and help Remus because it’s a full moon and he won’t hurt me but for the love of merlin he will hurt you so will you please go inside!”

Draco gaped at me, in utter disbelief.

“Please Draco, go inside,”

“Only if you come with me,” He recovered.

My thoughts for Sirius were forgotten as I took a step closer to him. Instead, all I could see and focus on was the heartbreak on his face and the hand that he held out for me. A hand that I wanted to accept but knew that I couldn’t because I would phase right through him. Never had I loathed being dead so much but in that moment when all I wanted to do was comfort him.

For the first time in almost two hundred years, tears slid down my cheeks. I barely noticed.

“Please,” His voice shook as did his hand as it remained extended to me. “Please, Y/n,”

The moon fell behind the mountains as the sun shed her first light onto us.

And with reckless abandon, I reached out for him, for his hand. In desperation and false hope, closing my eyes, knowing my heart would never break more that in the next few moments for not being a part of his world.

Then my hand felt softness and warmth.

I gasped and jerked back, and Draco seemed to realize this as I did.

“You just...” He stammered.

“I...” Trembling, I held my hand up, the sunlight no longer passing through it but refracting off of it. I finally reached up and felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks as I gasped in pure joy.

“I’m human,” I laughed, “I’m human!” I marveled at my rosy skin and the soft green fabric of my dress as I felt the grass beneath my feet. After a moment, I, at last, looked to Draco, who seemed to be frozen in a state of wonder and disbelief, and almost... scared.

“Draco,” I called softly, “It’s me,” I offered my hand to him, the grin not leaving my face.

“You’re... and...”

I nodded and smiled, taking a step closer to him. “Not scared of ghosts, are you?” I teased softly.

He finally laughed and took my hand, pulling me close, into the comfort of his arms. I began to cry again because for the first time in two hundred and fifty years, I was hugged. I clung to him, my fingers marveling at the softness of his shirt, trailing up into his hair.

“Merlin,” Draco pulled away softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,”

Before I could ask him what he meant—or argue that I had been waiting longer than he ever had—he pressed his lips to mine, and in that moment, I swear I could have died all over again in his arms.

In the days when evil lurks around every corner,

The condemned will become innocent,

And the innocent will become condemned.

True love can reanimate a deceased heart,

Under the star of Great Dog,

She will become alive as time is altered;

Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.

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loeyparker · 4 years

Text

hurt her to save her - d.m

pairing: draco x fem!reader

word count: 7k

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture

plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort

a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3

Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.

Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.

By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.

“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.

Draco felt so small under their gaze.

“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.

“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.

Draco didn’t move.

Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.

“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.

“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”

“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.

Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”

“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.

“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”

“I know.”

Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.

“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”

Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.

“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.

However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.

He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table – which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.

Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.

Draco thought you looked so beautiful.

He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.

Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.

You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.

“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.

You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.

It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.

Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.

Until that night.

It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.

You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.

You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.

You were having a great time.

“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.

“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.

“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.

“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”

You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.

“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.

The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.

So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.

You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.

You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.

Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.

He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.

“None of your business.”

“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.

“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.

“You know about that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.

However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”

Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.

“What are you even doing there?”

“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.

“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”

Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.

You smiled proudly at his question.

“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed ��it was quite funny.”

Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.

“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”

“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then- “

“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”

“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”

You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”

Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.

Things slowly started to shift after that night.

The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.

Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.

Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”

And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.

You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.

Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.

Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.

You didn’t want to see him after that.

But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.

Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.

“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”

Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.

A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.

Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.

You quietly sat next to him with a huff.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.

After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.

Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.

Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.

“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.

And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.

But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.

“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”

Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.

Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.

You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.

On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.

He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.

You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.

A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.

“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.

He ignored you.

You felt like throwing something at his head.

You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.

“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.

You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.

No words came out of your mouth after that.

You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.

His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”

And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.

That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.

With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.

Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.

You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.

You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.

“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.

“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.

He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”

Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.

“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”

Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.

“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”

The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.

“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.

“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”

He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.

“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”

“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.

He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”

Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.

Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.

And there it was.

The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.

Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.

“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “

“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”

“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.

“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.

“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.

Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.

You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.

“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”

You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.

“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”

All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.

“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.

You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.

“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #hhtsh

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mrs-snape5984 · 2 months

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“I will love you unconditionally…”

“Come just as you are to me, don't need apologies. Know that you are worthy!” (“Unconditionally” by Katy Perry)

Feathers. Feathers everywhere. The teenagers were panting heavily from their previous childish pillow-fight, staring at each other with red, sweaty faces. But something about the whole mood seemed to change…shifting into something else…something unfamiliar. The sudden tension between Severus and Julia became palpable, wavering in thick air. His voice cut the awkward silence between them. “What is this all about, Jules?” Brushing the cheeky strand of hair - which seemed to have a life on its own…always falling over his left eye - out of his face, Severus glanced at her, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t know, what to think about her latest antics. Would she be the next person, who would abandon him? He knew it…he shouldn’t have gotten too attached to her….he shouldn’t have allowed her to break through his walls. “You’re pathetic, Severus!”, he scolded himself internally, coursing his heart for this feeling of hope, that he had given permission to grow in his chest. “You should have known better than that.”

“Sevy, I…”, her voice broke mid sentence, when she recognised the familiar expressions of annoyance and disappointment in his face. No…this was not supposed to happen! This was the moment, when Julia knew, that she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She couldn’t lose him! Her friend! Her companion through thick and thin! Taking a deep breath, Julia took his hand in hers and revealed her deepest feelings for him. It was now or never!

“Sevy, from the very first moment, when I've seen you in the Great Hall...this way too skinny, raven haired boy with his adorably crooked nose and those beautiful - and yet so sad - obsidian eyes...l've been fallen head over heels for you!”, she blurted out…feeling her heart beating up to her throat. There was no way back for her now, that was for sure.

“Jules…what…”, but before Severus could react to her blunt confession, Julia stopped him from talking, shaking her head vigorously. “Listen to me, Sevy! Let me explain this to you. It’s…it’s your soul!”, she stuttered nervously, stumbling over her own words.

“Your soul has always seemed to be surrounded by some kind of magnetic field, Sevy. And my poor soul is constantly lingering on it…desperately trying to get attached to yours.” Julia’s cheeks went scarlet, but it was too late…she couldn’t stop herself from confessing her feelings to her best friend anymore.

“I’m like a goddamn moth…”, she uttered nervously, “and you…you’re the light! I…I can’t help myself…you…you’re all, I can think about!”

„I am…the light?“ Severus was speechless. Never would he have considered himself as a light…and especially not as a light to someone! But he couldn’t say anything further to his best friend‘s confession…not since Julia just didn’t stop talking!

„I don't expect anything from you, Severus. My love for you is…unconditionally…and…undeniably.“, she continued with her flow of words. This wasnt new to Severus, he knew Julia’s habit of losing herself in an endless stream of rhapsody over the most random things. But he had never expected to become the subject of her rambling speech…and she still didn’t come to an end!

„I will find you inside your own darkness, Severus...no matter, where you are…no matter, where you’re hiding yourself from the world! I want to be the light, that leads you home. I will break through the cage, you've built around yourself. And I won't ever let you go!“, declared Julia boldly before she interrupted herself, holding her breath. Suddenly, there was only one thought left in her mind: “Oh no…what have I done?!”

This was a little snippet from one of my more innocent stories, which I’m writing in my sleepless nights in order to cope with my own situation…and gosh, I’m so fucking nervous to share this with you all for the very first time.

Even though I’m someone, who always seemed to be quite self-confident towards others, I’m only a very insecure and overly sensitive person on the inside. My whole life, there was always one thought in the back of my head: What if I’m not good enough? What if I’m nothing but a failure?

And since I’m struggling with this cruel disease ME/CFS, which completely cuts me off from the life, I’ve used to known…my insecurities and vulnerabilities are growing even deeper. So, this is a sign of trust, you wonderful people of Snapedom! I’m trusting you with a tiny piece of my heart…a tiny piece of my true self.

My friend, the wonderfully talented artist @snake-queen7, drew this beautiful artwork of Sevy and Jules in the middle of their pillow-fight….and you did a fantastic job, my dear! Thank you for letting my fantasies come to life…for allowing me to feel alive again through your excellent art!

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

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harrypotterandthefandomaccount · 3 years

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breathless

pairing: severus snape x fem!reader

request: Hi, first things first I love Your work. I'd like to ask for a request for Snape. It's where snape first meets y/n and he instantly falls for her. Kinda like love at first sight

warnings: none.

note: severus snape is welcomed at 12 grimmauld :’) also the description of the order and grimmauld place is rly shitty in this but this is a drabble so nothing too serious. enjoy!

you were one of few to believe in love at first sight as nowadays, all one had to do was trick another into drinking amortentia. however, the idea of locking eyes with your one true love, feeling your heartbeat quicken and palms grow sweaty, felt much more humane than a silly potion.

the moment you laid eyes on severus snape, oh my, you felt as if you had drunk an entire gallon of amortentia.

never would you have thought that the meeting place between you and your love would be 12 grimmauld place, but when your life is intertwined with harry potter’s, anything is possible.

when you had become an auror and a part of the ministry, you had no idea how fearful, yet easily swayed, your fellow wizards and witches were. you had known lord voldemort was back; it truly was not a shock. however, talking about him seemed to only put you in bad light of those who wanted nothing to do with the evil being. becoming annoyed with those in your own community, you followed kingsley shacklebolt and eventually became part of the order of the phoenix. quietly, you fed the order information about sirius and the knowabouts of Voldemort, helping out any way to clear sirius’ name and spread the awareness of the dark lord’s resurrection.

after harry had been attacked by two dementors, both you and kingsley had become the advance guard, vowing to escort the young wizard to 12 grimmauld place. it seemed silly sometimes, having trained and experienced aurors escorting the harry potter to the safehouse, but it was necessary, as kingsley put it.

once entering the townhouse after a quick patrol, you heard familiar voices echoing from the kitchen. with scrunched eyebrows, you remembered the house being empty before you left, save for molly and the kids. shuffling your shoes off your feet, you softly padded towards the room before pausing at a long string that stretched from the third floor, an ear attached to the end. with a giggle, you picked up the ear, whispering, “you know you kids shouldn’t be meddling, hmm?”

fred snickered besides george and the rest of the teens, “sure, princess, but tell us what you know after the meeting, yeah?”

you put a hand on your hip, “and why would i do that, fred weasley?”

george then took the other end of the listening device, cackling, “because mom won’t tell us the juicy bits! plus, one of our professors is in there - new ears, new sets of eyes. why can’t we be in the loop?”

you glanced down at crookshanks who was enjoying his time rubbing against your leg. kneeling down carefully, you whispered once more, “for your own protection, George - and the rest of you.” with a slow hand, you gave crookshanks the ear, happily munching on it as you heard gasps of ‘ouch!’ echo from upstairs.

walking into the kitchen, you spotted molly right away. with a soft laugh, you kissed her check as a greeting, “your kids and their friends have serious evesdropping tendencies, mrs. weasley.”

she scoffed at the mention of her kids doing such, “ever since fred and george opened that joke shop, they’ve made it their mission to hear everything about these meetings! i really outta storm up there-”

sirius black stood up from the table to greet you, “y/n, my love! thank you for coming; you know your presence is always welcomed.”

you gave a smile, “always happy to help my best friends. . .and kingsley too, i guess.”

that earned you a grumble from the old man himself.

saying your last few greetings, you were met with a new pair of eyes. my, did these eyes bore into you - but in a way where you relaxed immediately, feeling safe in his presence. you looked over him, noticing his wrinkles around his eyes, showing his traumatic past and most likely harrowing future. your heart ached.

his eyes had stories to tell you, imagining your face on the parallel side of his pillow, listening to what he had to say. his nose asked to be touched by your delicate hands, waiting to feel your pointer finger slowly stroke the one thing he had always been insecure about.

his lips begged to be kissed with love, with a softness he had never known. a softness he had longed for with lily, but had never received.

his own eyes traveled over your features as if he was committing them to memory, terrified that if he skipped over one detail, it’d all go to waste. however, severus felt as if he had all the time in the world to memorize you, understand you.

remus cleared his throat, “once you two are done undressing each other with your eyes-”

severus’ face grew red in seconds, “lupin, you dunderhead, there was no such -”

you tried to hide a smile as you whispered, “I wasn’t necessarily undressing him, in my defense.”

kingsley threw you an unimpressed look, “hopeless romantic, hmm?”

remus continued, “proper introductions are in order. y/n l/n, this is severus snape, potions professor at Hogwarts. severus, this is y/n, an auror for the ministry and one of our best insiders.”

you waved your hand, “more compliments my way, please!”

severus enjoyed your energy, your warmth, your confidence, but most importantly, your tranquility. you seemed so peaceful, yet ready to fight for what you believed was right. he grew breathless; you were so etheral.

meeting his eyes again, you grew breathless once more, wanting nothing more than hold him close and tell him it was okay. you enjoyed his own aura, the mystery of his life, the unknown, but most importantly, the yearning to be loved. he truly deserved to be loved.

severus never believed in love at first sight until he saw you. locking eyes with your own had become his greatest achievement, but also his greatest downfall. he had fallen in love at first sight, and now, he was breathless.

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mrsseverussnape · 3 years

Note

Ahhh congrats! A lovely little one shot of a female reader and Sev with the song “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” by Queen?

A/n: Thank you!💖 Since i love oldies more than any other music, i was inspired by your request the most! Hope you will like it, i enjoyed writing it. It is kinda cliché but whatever we love cliché💁🏼‍♀️😂

Characters: young!Severus Snape x reader

Theme: fluff

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Potions was your last class of the week and when the lesson ended you felt so relieved; it was a hell of a week with tons of homework and plus to that your best friend Severus was acting odd for whatever reason. Even in the potions class which is his favourite, he was odd. This has started to bother you and you decided to ask him what is going on when you were alone. You two have decided to sit in the garden after the classes since it was such a nice May day; sun was shining, birds were humming, spring wind was breezing. You and Severus made your way to the big oak tree and sat under its shadow, this was your favourite spot in the whole school. Normally you and Severus would be sitting there for hours and would talk about everything and nothing, basically you would just enjoy each other’s company but today Severus wasn’t even doing that. The moment you arrived here, he has started to play with his bag; taking books out and putting them back in. he was clearly avoiding you and you finally blurted the question out.

“Sev why are you acting weird!?”

The question caught him off guard, he was looking like a deer caught in headlights. “I gotta be cool, relax…” Severus thought to himself. He was aware that he was being weird lately, he wasn’t stupid not to understand that but he wasn’t sure how to explain this to her so he decided to act like he has no idea what she is talking about.

“What do you mean Y/N?” Severus tried his best to avoid eye contact, but your gaze was way too strong to avoid.

“Hmmm let’s see Severus; not even 20 minutes ago Professor Slughorn asked you what do you smell from the Amortentia and I quote you “rain, herbs and -a long wait- burned toast.” BURNED TOAST!? Care to explain?”

“Maybe I like burned toast…” Severus mumbled while picking some grass.

“You don’t even like over-cooked food Sev, burned toast is another level. Tell me what is going on? We tell each other everything! Maybe it is something I can help.” You moved closer to him and rested your hand on his upper arm to comfort him.

Your sympathetic smile made him feel butterflies in his stomach and your touch… He knew blood rushed to his face when his heart beat quickened, these emotions were very new to him; he has never received them truly or felt like that about someone. “I must get ‘round to it, I ain’t ready.” Severus thought. It was painful for him to hide his feelings from you but also he wasn’t quite sure that you have feelings for him more than just being best friends. The chances were; he could tell you his feelings and you returned them back but the second option was he could tell you and you may run away, your friendship could be ruined forever and he would die from embarrassment.

“Sev…?” your soft voice brought him back to reality, he was so lost in his mind and wasn’t aware he was taking so long to answer.

Severus looked into your sparkling eyes, his heart swelled with love and he decided to shoot his shot. But he couldn’t make up a sentence and stuttered words together.

“I… feel things… y’know people do… I just can’t handle it but I kinda like it…This thing…”

“Maybe you can be little bit more specific Sev? I don’t understand.” You gave him an awkward smile, you had a guess and it was making you go crazy out of excitement.

“This thing called… love. Crazy little thing called love…” Severus finally blurted it out, he was ready to leave if he sees a disappointed look on your face but to surprise him, you jumped onto him for a hug. He wrapped his arms around you shyly. You pulled away after a while giggling and looked at him sweetly.

“So you like me huh?”

“Yes…” his cheeks were a dark shade of red under your teasing gaze.

“Guess what!? I like you more!”

242 notes · View notes

valentineforlemonandcherry · 2 years

Text

Foxtail & Wolfsbane Part 16

Summary: Your lifelong obsession to hunt down the Nine-Tailed Fox has not gone as expected, and seventeen years later, you find yourself coming back to the place where it all started: Hogwarts. However, with Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban and Headmaster Dumbledore’s hire of a certain Professor R. J. Lupin, you suddenly find yourself intertwined in the fates of those with whom you thought you had parted ways with long ago. [Multi-Post Story] [Rowan Scamander x Reader] [Remus Lupin x Reader] [Young Sirius Black x Reader] [Tristan Graves x Reader] [Severus Snape x Reader] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Rough Sex.] [Warning: Slight Degradation.] [Warning: Nonconsent.] *Note: Rowan Scamander, Tristan Graves, Susana Holmes, Cas Carneirus, Henrietta Weiss, and Thomas Picquery are OC characters. *Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

“And we didn’t sleep together last night.”

It wasn’t the words that bothered you. Rather, the words were a source of utter relief.

It was the vision of Tristan Graves’ expression – his emerald eyes glinting in the lowlight, and his brows drawn together, as if he were truly insulted by your assumptions of him, that kept bothering you.

“Because you don’t seem to realize that I just saved your life.”

“Because, if nothing else, I trust Rowan Scamander.”

You groaned softly, and you buried your head in your hands. What does all of this mean? Why does it feel so complicated?

You had left London to simplify your life, to return to yourself, the girl that you were before you fell in love for Remus, and even further back than that, before Rowan had first torn open that capacity of human connection within you. Instead, you now found yourself mired in all sorts of unspoken crossways, and you didn’t know what to do.

“You know nothing about persuading people, do you?”

You sighed. Tristan had been spot-on with that observation, not that you would ever admit it.

No, I can’t persuade people, you thought to yourself, not without a bit of ire towards yourself. But I at least try to do right by people.

You still didn’t trust Tristan, but you felt that if he was truly an ally, it hadn’t been right to treat him the way you had been treating him.

With more than a bit of reluctance and resignation, you finally decided, Fine, Tristan Graves, but I’ll try to do right by you.

* * * * * * * * * *

Two soft knocks sounded out in Tristan’s room.

Tristan was still sitting back in his chair, with his hand covering his face. Thinking it was Susana, he murmured, “Enter.”

However, the hesitant way in which the door creaked open alerted Tristan to the fact that it was not Susana, but -

“You.”

Tristan’s blunt greeting immediately set you off the wrong way. Your eyes narrowed. Damn you, you thought. I try to pull together enough maturity to do this one good deed for you, and you threaten to wreck it all in one word.

You kept your dignity, however, as you merely replied, “Yes. Me.”

Walking into the room, you set down a bowl of water on the table next to his chair.

Tristan stared at you skeptically. “What are you up to?”

“You have bruises on your cheek. I noticed them in the hallway.”

“Oh, you noticed them, did you?” Tristan repeated bitingly.

You paused, not understanding why he sounded so scornful.

“Those marks are from you,” Tristan’s voice seethed with annoyance.

You began hesitantly, “I don’t remember - ”

“I saved your life. You tried to punch me.”

“Ah.” A light flashed in your dark eyes as the memory of trying to take a swing at Tristan in the alleyway intruded upon your mind. But you quickly retorted, “You were squishing Artemis.”

Tristan scoffed. “Why are you so protective over that thing? She’s not even magical.”

You immediately thumped him in the chest. “Shut up! Art is a special fox!”

“Ow!” Tristan groaned.

Shit, I came in here to make things right! Wincing, you lamely switched to uncomfortably patting his chest as you hastily apologized, “Sorry, sorry. That was completely unintentional.”

Tristan’s jaw tightened. You could practically hear a variety of angry retorts clinking through what you swore was a mechanical brain.

“You shouldn’t insult someone’s pet, though,” you muttered grumpily.

Biting back another insult, Tristan finally asked, in a tightly controlled voice, “What are you here for? I didn’t call for you.”

You frowned deeply at him. “Haven’t you learned by now that I don’t come and go at your beck and call? Maybe you don’t realize this, since your only relations are with your maid, Susana, and those Aurors that you try to order around – but not every relationship is comprised of a dialogue of orders, Mr. Graves.”

“I said to call me Tristan.”

“Well, I just said I’m not at your command.”

“That wasn’t a command, you fool.”

“Then, what was it?”

Tristan scoffed. “I don’t know. I suppose that was just… just me, asking for a courtesy.”

Tristan’s softer phrase took you aback. But the moment had hardly begun to set in, when Tristan followed up with the biting remark, “Or are you immune to acquiescing to those, too?”

You glowered at him.

“Anyways,” Tristan said, determinedly ignoring your hard stare boring into the side of his face, “you never answered my question. What are you here for?”

You simply continued to glare at him.

Without turning his head towards you, Tristan said simply, “If you don’t care to answer, I don’t care to have you here, and I’ll send you right out - ”

“I was intending to heal your bruises.”

At this, Tristan looked over at the bowl of water, which was filled with medicinal herbs. He raised a very skeptical eyebrow. “How do I know that it’s not poison in there?”

You rolled your eyes. Kneeling down at his side, you pushed him back gently in his chair. “Really,” you said, as you dipped a towel into the bowl before wringing it out, “how do you get through life, being as cynical and suspicious as you are?”

Tristan didn’t reply, but he allowed you to press the damp towel against his cheek without comment.

“Of course,” you suggested smoothly, “if you were to give me my wand back, then I could heal you even quicker.”

“Not a chance,” he replied at once.

After a few minutes, you carefully removed the towel.

“Does the skin feel less tight on your cheek?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

“Good. That means that the swelling has gone down.”

“Are you a Healer?” Tristan asked, watching you fold the towel.

“No.”

“Then, why are you so familiar with healing waters?”

You shrugged. Because I wanted to take care of Remus.

Eyes downcast, you made to turn away, but Tristan abruptly grasped your wrist. He pulled you back just enough to look into your eyes.

“What?” you asked.

Tristan’s eyes searched yours, rather intensely, as he asked you in a low murmur, “Who are you right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you yourself, or are you -?”

Just then, Susana came racing into the room. “Master!” she shouted. “I’m sorry, but they had a warrant! I couldn’t stop them!”

You and Tristan rose to your feet as four Aurors entered the room, with the last shouldering Susana aside. The group was led by none other than Thomas Picquery.

Tristan’s eyes narrowed, and his hand immediately headed towards his back pocket –

“Stop right there.” Henrietta Weiss gave Tristan a sharp look. “If you move your hand one inch closer to your wand, I’ll have to restrain you.”

“What is this nonsense?” Tristan hissed, as his hand stuttered to a pause.

“We decided that it was in our best interest, including yours, if we were to place this girl under formal watch,” Thomas replied. His voice was as quiet as ever, but this time, there was a solemn ring to it. He meant business.

“Here.” Theodore Fontaine, a young man with caramel locks with an almost reddish tint and wearing handsome black robes, held out a piece of parchment. “It’s the warrant to search your home.”

“Granted by?”

“Seraphina Picquery.”

“Of course,” Tristan said tautly, and his voice was nearly a growl. He threw Thomas a sharp look. But Thomas did not waver as he stared back as Tristan.

“This girl has somehow tricked you, Tristan,” Henrietta said sternly, jerking her head at you. “We’re sure of it. When she produced that mysterious silver cloud of smoke in the Chambers, it was an enchantment on you.”

“I did not enchant him,” you protested, crossing your arms across your chest. “Why would I have? I don’t want to stay here. It’s you lot who insists on keeping me in this godforsaken country.”

“Well, then, why else would Graves consent to house you himself? The only person this benefits is you, missy.” A fourth Auror, Gregory O’Brien, a late middle-aged man with an easy, loping grace, but very quick eyes under a thick, grey brow, posed the question. As he spoke, he raised his wand and pointed it straight at you.

“Because I prefer not to have her killed by you lot,” Tristan replied, and he stepped firmly in front of you.

“Tristan. What are you doing?” Thomas was now gazing at Tristan with an almost forlorn expression on his face. “She’s an Obscurial. She could kill you. If your father knew about this - ”

“Well, he’s not here, is he?” Tristan hissed. As you were standing behind him, you noticed Tristan’s shoulders stiffen.

“Step aside, Tristan,” Thomas said quietly. “Or else we will have to use force. Justice Picquery has authorized it.”

“You mean, your mother authorized it?” Tristan scoffed. Then, he stood up straight, and opened his hands before him, showing that he wasn’t holding his wand. Raising an eyebrow at the four Aurors before him, he spoke in a voice of supreme confidence. “Well, then. Take her. If you think you can.”

There was a split second of silence.

Then, a chorus of voices simultaneously burst out, “Stupefy!”

Four Stunners shot right at you.

Tristan, in astounding quickness, grabbed you and pulled you down, ducking behind his bed.

“What are you doing?” you hissed at him. “You should be fighting them back!”

“I am trying to make sure you’re all right,” he snarled back at you.

“Thank you, but I am fully capable of ducking and hiding,” you whispered back. “I’d rather you just take them out.”

You realized that with it being four against one, there was only so long that you and Tristan would last on the defensive.

“Oh, well, excuse me for being ignorant of your amazing agility,” Tristan retorted so dryly that the sarcasm literally dripped off of his voice. “Next time, I won’t bother.”

Another volley of Stunners rang out over your head.

“Great,” you groaned. “Now, we’re definitely on the defensive. Why aren’t you getting your shots in?”

“Excuse me, I don’t see you with a wand,” Tristan remarked, as he carefully looked over the edge of the bed to see where the Aurors had gone.

“So?”

“So, no wand, no strategic talk, all right?” Tristan grimaced as another Stunner came flying right at his face. He barely ducked in time.

“Well, that’s because you took it away from me,” you reminded him. You chose that moment to poke him in the ribs. “Give it back.”

“God damn it, keep your hands to yourself,” Tristan growled at you. “I’ve got enough on my hands without you annoying me.”

Footsteps rang out as Aurors spread out, surrounding the bed, so that when you and Tristan were finally confronted, there would be no way to escape the room. Gregory guarded the window; Henrietta by the door; and Thomas and Theodore ran around the bed towards you and Tristan.

“I say now or never,” you hissed at Tristan.

“Finally, we agree on something,” Tristan breathed out. Then, he leapt up, shouting, “Obscurus!” At once, copious amounts of grey smoke bloomed from his wand.

Tristan quickly yanked you onto your feet. Tucking you against him, he rolled the two of you across the bed. As soon as you both landed lightly on the other side of the bed, Tristan whispered, “Stupefy.”

Gregory, the Auror standing beside the door, was promptly Stunned. He started to fall over. You closed your eyes, wincing in anticipation of the noise Gregory would make when he hit the floor. However, to your surprise, Susana, who was also standing by the door, was unexpectedly quick. She managed to catch Gregory before he fell and she laid him down quietly on the floor.

Tristan then shoved you to Susana. You stumbled, as Tristan gave you no warning, but Susana grabbed your hand and yanked you forward before you could trip over. Susana wrenched open the door and pulled you out of the room.

The sound of the door opening alerted the remaining Aurors as to your position, and a fight rang out once more. It was a testament to Tristan’s incredible magical prowess that he managed to keep Thomas, Henrietta, and Theodore from leaving the room.

Meanwhile, Susana took you out into the main hallway. You expected her to lead you out of the house. Instead, Susana turned around, slammed you against the wall, and grabbed you by the throat.

You choked, and your eyes widened in shock. “S-Sus - ?” You couldn’t even get a word out, she was squeezing your neck so hard. But her eyes, they seemed so… empty.

You scrabbled at Susana’s hands, trying valiantly to free yourself. What is going on? Why is Susana trying to hurt me? Isn’t she loyal to… to Tristan?

Your vision was starting to go hazy. You could hear your own heartbeat thudding frantically in your head. I can’t – can’t breathe…

When the fight first broke out, Artemis had scurried over to Tristan’s bedroom. However, she skidded to a stop in the hallway when she smelled the smoke. She paced nervously in front of the closed door, wondering where you were.

When Susana suddenly pushed the door open, Artemis furiously leapt towards the hinges to avoid getting hit by the door, but that meant that she was sandwiched between the door and the wall. It took Artemis a long minute of pushing with all of her might against the heavy door to finally slip back out into the hallway. That was when she saw that Susana was trying to hurt you.

Artemis came bounding down the hallway, growling as angrily as she’d ever growled, but Susana kicked her away with an astonishingly sharp punt of her foot. Artemis whimpered pitifully as she crumpled to the ground. She tried to bound back up, but she was dazed and hurt.

“Art…” you choked out. “R-Run…” Your mind blinked out, and your head fell forward. White static flickered numbly through the abyss of your mind…

* * * * * * * * * *

At that moment, the most shocking thing happened. You heard a loud, ferocious roar coming from behind you – no, from you. Then, a spurt of blue fire suddenly engulfed your entire body.

Susana screamed and hastily leapt back from you.

You lifted your head, only it wasn’t you anymore. Your narrowed, lifted eyes promising death and revenge and the white, fluffy ears on your head that twitched angrily were definitely not your features. What was even more incredible was that behind you, no less than eight tails were swishing furiously behind you.

Artemis whimpered loudly. She scampered back until her rump hit the wall behind her, and she clumsily fell onto her rump with a confused bark.

Susana gasped and she quickly lifted her wand at you. “Stupe -!”

You snarled, and one of your tails flashed out at her, quicker than lightning. Susana shrieked as she felt your tail hit her hands. It was as though a bolt of burning flame shot through her hands. She cried out in pain, and her wand clattered to the ground. Taking advantage of her vulnerability, you leapt on top of her, jaw open to reveal your fangs.

At that very moment, Tristan, still shouting out defensive spells, fell back into the hallway. He was finally forced out of the room.

As Tristan fell to the ground, he heard Artemis’ panicked, confused whimpering and Susana’s loud cry of pain. Tristan turned his head to see the most astonishing sight: you, complete with your ears and tails, sitting on top of Susanna, and clearly leaning in towards her to –

“Stop!” he yelled.

But his moment of distraction cost him. Thomas’ Cutting Hex caught him. Tristan groaned as the spell ripped through his shirt. Only a second later, blood began to spurt out of his shoulder.

You turned your head at Tristan’s shout, and something in you – your consciousness – began to stir awake again. The Fox growled, frustrated, but she was forced back within your soul.

You blinked awake, only to find yourself completely dazed. You frowned when you saw Susana beneath you, with shock written all over her eyes. “What…?” you began.

You lifted your head to see Tristan staring at you with a horrified expression. “Tristan…?” you mumbled out. Then, exhausted from being inhabited by a spirit far more powerful than you, you slumped over, unconscious.

Artemis let out a pitiful, worried yelp. She forced herself up onto her feet and began to scamper over to you, to check on you. Only, she never quite made it to you.

“Get her!” Henrietta raced out into the hallway with her wand already raised. Thin, black cords burst out from the tip of her wand, and they wrapped themselves tightly around you.

Artemis barked in shock, and she made to bite and paw at the ropes. But Henrietta shooed her away with a swift slap of her hand.

Meanwhile, Thomas pointed his wand directly at Tristan’s chest. “Please don’t try anything.” Tristan glared up at him, but he didn’t try to move.

Behind them, Theodore was holding Gregory up. “Back to headquarters?”

Henrietta nodded. She reached down and grabbed your limp, tied-up form by the shoulder. Artemis was sly enough to leap up and lithely hang onto the ropes crisscrossing your back. The situation was hectic and tense enough that no one noticed the little fox who was determined to stay with you, even if you did smell very different all of a sudden.

Neither did anyone notice the displeased look that Theodore gave Susana, who was still sitting on the ground, looking completely confused as to what had just happened.

* * * * * * * * * *

“She’s not an Obscurial!”

“Of course she is! There’s no other explanation!”

“Yes, there is.”

“What, then? What is she?”

“Are we still banging on about this?”

The Aurors were gathered in the Chambers, and there was a full-out argument going on. You were still unconscious, but you had been chained back into the suspect’s chair. Artemis was in your lap. The other Aurors had tried to take Artemis away from you, but Artemis had bristled and put up a spectacular fight for such a little thing, snapping at everyone’s fingers and pawing left and right, until Tristan finally stepped in and convinced the other Aurors that Artemis was an ordinary fox, a non-magical pet that didn’t pose a threat (except to everyone’s fingers if they kept trying to take her away from you), and that she should stay with you.

At that point, Theodore had burst out, “I don’t care about the bloody fox! What I care about is the Obscurial!”

With that comment, the gathering had erupted into a full-blown shouting match.

Now, Tristan was standing in front of you, arguing with the twenty-four other Aurors that made up the Committee. While the other Aurors yelled at him, Tristan glanced back at you, sleeping in the chair. He was worried about you, worried about the physical effects of your transformation.

At that moment, the grand doors to the Chamber opened. Tina Scamander, a tall, thin, woman with chin-length brown hair and determined, flashing brown eyes, walked into the room.

“What is this I hear of an ambush on the Graves’ residence?” she demanded. “By our own Aurors, nonetheless. Is this true?”

“It was authorized, Tina,” Henrietta responded at once.

“By whom?”

“Madame Justice Picquery.”

Tina’s eyes narrowed. “I shall be having a word with Madame Picquery.”

Tina’s gaze fell on your unconscious figure. “Who is this girl? Why have you tied her up?”

“Because she’s an Obscurial!” an Auror from the back called out.

Tina turned to Tristan. Her face was solemn. “Is that true?”

Tristan shook his head. “No, ma’am, it’s not.”

“Then…?”

Tristan sighed deeply, as he finally decided to reveal, “She’s possessed by a Nine-Tail Fox.”

For a moment, there was only a stunned silence. Then, a tumult of jeers and boos rang out.

“That’s a fairytale, for Merlin’s sake!”

“You can’t possibly expect us to believe that!”

“It’s true,” Tristan said firmly. But no one was listening to him anymore.

“Utter nonsense!”

“Those things aren’t even real!”

Tina’s immediate instinct was to disregard what Tristan said. But after many years of being Newt’s wife, she had learned that such tales could very well be true. Still, Tina would have to hear more before she made up her mind. This was clearly not a decision that could be made lightly.

Finally, Tina spoke quite loudly, though still with impressive calm, “Pause the proceeding. In any case, the girl requires medical attention. Whatever she may be possessed by, the girl still has a right to her own life. We will disperse for now.”

The Aurors grumbled among themselves, but no one dared to disobey Tina.

“Tristan,” Tina said, turning back to him, “take that girl to your office, and look her over to make sure her injuries aren’t too serious. I’ll ask for some medical balm to be sent up to your office.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“After that, come to me. But make sure she can’t escape from your office.”

“Ma’am?”

“As much as I’d like to, I can’t believe you merely at face value. Besides that, if what you say is true, a Nine-Tailed Fox promises dangers of its own sort.”

“Are you asking me to chain her up?”

Tina sighed. “It’s either that or the MACUSA holding cell.”

Tristan finally nodded. Turning around, he picked you up from the chair and carried you up to his office.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ugh, my head is pounding… You tried to move, only to realize that your wrists were cuffed to a metal chain, which was attached to the ceiling above you. You were all strung up, with your arms over your head.

You tried to fight the chains, but to no avail. You groaned in exasperation. Meanwhile, it was impossible to ignore the heavy burning between your legs. Your entire body felt feverish; in particular, you were sore right between your thighs. You were nearly whimpering with need, even though you were all alone.

What is going on with me? you wondered in your head, deeply unsettled. This is hardly the time to feel this way…

Just then, the door opened, and Tristan Graves walked in. The moment you locked eyes with him, a voice whispered fervently in your head, That’s him. You need him. You need to be satisfied.

“Awake?” Tristan said simply, closing and locking the door behind him.

You glared at him. Despite the fact that your head was ringing, and your lower lip was trembling slightly with need, you managed to blurt out in your trademark questioning tone, “Where’s Artemis?”

“She’s safe. She’s with the MediVets.”

“She’s hurt?” Your heart stopped.

“Only a little. She’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

But if Tristan’s answers meant to calm you, he had another think coming. Through gritted teeth, you asked him furiously, “Why am I chained up like this?”

“It was the condition on which I could bring you safely to my office.” Tristan walked over to you. Reaching out, he gently tugged at a strip of cloth wrapped around your neck.

You tensed when you felt his fingers brush against your neck. Oh, God, you moaned in your head.

When the bandage fell away, he said, with some satisfaction, “Good. You’re healing quickly.”

“Graves,” you growled. “What the hell is going on? What happened to me?”

Soften your voice, little one. You’ll scare him away with that growl of yours.

But Tristan merely lifted an eyebrow at you. “Well, you’ve certainly got your spirit back.”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you aren’t inhabited by that Fox anymore.”

Your brow furrowed. Your heart thumped with anxiety. “W-What?” you whispered, stunned. “What did you just say?”

Tristan frowned. “Wait,” he said, in a voice of total disbelief, “you didn’t know?”

The chains rattled loudly as you strained against them, trying to step closer to Tristan, to grab him and make him explain himself. “Did you just say I was – was inhabited by the Fox?” you sputtered out.

“You truly didn’t know?” Tristan’s eyes widened. She isn’t trying to fool me, after all. She isn’t hiding anything from me. Rather, she doesn’t know. My God, she must be very confused by all of this.

But… how can she not know? Tristan hesitated, thinking hard. Then, his lips parted and he let out a soft breath as he suddenly understood, oh, she’s never seen herself in her Fox form.

Meanwhile, your frustration had reached an all-time peak as Graves seemed to ignore you. “Graves! Explain yourself.”

Tristan stood there for a long moment. Finally, he murmured softly, “I can do better than explain. I can show you.”

You paused, taken aback by how quietly he spoke. Usually, he gets angry when I snap at him like that. Untrustingly, you replied, “Show me what?”

“You’re aching right now, aren’t you?” Tristan asked, glancing down at your shivering thighs.

“No… Why would I be at a time like this?” Your voice dropped into a mumble by the end, but you still held your chin up defiantly – which unintentionally exposed your neck to him.

Tristan hesitantly reached out. His hand hovered lightly against the side of your neck for a moment.

You shivered all over, as just the suggestion of his touch traveled all the way down your spine in a humming, golden glow.

Keeping his eyes on you and not missing the little tremor running through your entire body, Tristan whispered to you, “Are you sure?”

“I – uhn - ” You quickly bit down on your lower lip to control yourself. You swallowed hard. Then, making sure to speak very carefully and intentionally, you enunciated, “What has that got to do with any-thing?”

Tristan stepped closer to you until his chest pressed lightly against you. You glanced up at him, startled, as warmth immediately began to bloom between the two of you.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I feel it, too. You can’t help it. Neither can I. Because we’re under the influence of someone else.”

“What?” You had to tilt your head back a little to look up at Tristan, and Tristan quickly grasped your chin in his hand. He gently pressed his fingers against your cheeks. Another tremor passed through you, sending wonderful little vibrations down to your tummy. Oh… Just to be touched. Your body tensed, with your thighs tightening, and your brow furrowing for a moment.

“You need this,” Tristan whispered knowingly. “And I’ll show you why.”

“Show me why…?” You repeated, and the fragile vulnerability that you usually kept so well-hidden finally bubbled up to the surface.

Tristan felt your chin trembling slightly in his hand. He paused, and the two of you locked eyes. For a moment, an indescribable connection locked between the two of you.

Tristan raised his fingers and snapped them. Your chains finally fell away.

You were eager to be free, but your body wasn’t ready. To your surprise, you found yourself beginning to slump onto the floor. Tristan managed to grab you by the waist, holding you up.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. You pressed your hands against his shoulders, to push him away, when Tristan asked you, “Don’t you want to understand why all of this is happening to you?”

You stilled, remaining in his arms as you considered what he was saying. “And you can show me…?” You looked up at him. For once, you weren’t challenging him or showing your annoyance. For once, you were truly wondering if he could give you an answer.

“I can,” he replied confidently. “If you’ll let me.”

A beat passed. Finally, you gave him a slight nod.

Tristan abruptly made you turn around in his arms, positioning you in front of him. You were suddenly gazing at the darkened window of his office, which reflected none other than you and Tristan, standing together, with you wrapped into his arms.

“Watch yourself,” Tristan whispered into your ear. He reached around you before slipping his hand down your tummy and into your pants – and into your boyshorts, too.

“No… I don’t want to – to see myself like this. It’s too embarrassing,” you stuttered out, even though your breath hitched at the wonderful thought of being touched between your legs.

You tried to look away, but Tristan’s other hand caught your face and he forced you to hold still, to keep staring at yourself in the window.

“It’s not out of vanity that I ask you to watch,” Tristan told you, his voice as firm as ever. Then, you felt his fingers push against you.

“Nngh…” A soft moan fell from your lips, glancing across the air in a whisper as light as a feather.

“You’re so wet already,” Tristan murmured wonderingly. “Have you just been sitting like this in my office?”

“I wasn’t sitting,” you reminded him grumpily.

“Still, you were soaking through your panties with this wet little cunt of yours while waiting for me to come back?”

You flushed with embarrassment, and you refrained from answering.

“I may not know you very well,” Tristan whispered in your ear, “but I do know that when you fall silent, it usually means you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop it,” you murmured, as a pinkish tinge traveled lightly across your cheeks.

Tristan smirked a little. For, despite his calm, neutral tone, Tristan found your warm, wet, little pussy so very inviting to him. In fact, he couldn’t help but wonder how many of his thick fingers you could take in that tight little cunt of yours.

Probably not very many, despite how wet she is, he thought to himself wryly. She’s clenching already. Fuck, I can feel her pussy throbbing even though I’m just touching her clit. Mm, she’d feel so good wrapped around my cock, wouldn’t she?

Meanwhile, you were having trouble holding back your own unexpected escalation of responses. You went from “Do I really want him to touch me?” to “Oh, God, please fuck me. Or at least give me your fingers” so quickly.

“Hah…” A soft breath hinted at your state, at how you were so intensely affected by his mere touch.

Hearing your little pant, which even Tristan could tell was an unwilling admission of how good he was making you feel, Tristan glanced at you – only to find you with your eyes tightly shut.

“Keep your eyes open,” Tristan reminded you sharply, as he rubbed your cum deep into your pussy. Then, he dragged his glistening fingers up and down your clit, stroking your little cunt.

“I can’t,” you moaned. “I truly can’t. It’s like I’m not – not in control of my body… Ah…”

“I told you, neither of us are in control.”

“What does that even mean?” you huffed out.

“It means that you need to be touched,” Tristan whispered to you in a low, husky voice. “And I need to touch you.”

“Why you?” you asked, confusedly, even as your body was begging you to just go along with it, anything to feel his touch again.

“Because you’re calling to me, you sly little fox,” Tristan murmured to you.

As he spoke, his warm breath passed over your cheek, and you squirmed a little.

“You need to cum. I can tell how badly you want it, you know,” Tristan whispered, making you feel painfully aware and embarrassed of your own body, reacting to his every touch like that.

“No, it’s not… Well, I don’t know,” you mumbled. Your hands came up and you clutched desperately at Tristan’s arm as you felt his fingers make a mess out of your already wet pussy. Finally, you whispered in a tense, yet soft bloom of a confession, “…Yes.”

“Mm,” Tristan breathed out softly, as he continued to massage your pretty clit in tight little circles. “Tell me, are you always this wet?”

“N-No,” you panted out.

“You sure? Because I think you were just as wet last time,” Tristan whispered.

You stiffened in Tristan’s arms. He was teasing you. “Don’t say things like t-that – Ah…” You bit down against your bottom lip, as a sudden wave of pleasure flared up between your thighs. You shifted uncomfortably in Tristan’s arms, pressing your thighs together a little to stop yourself from – from – Oh God, I want to cum already?

You let out a sharp huff of air. It’s embarrassing, but yes, I want it. I need it so bad. I want to cum. Please, please, please, don’t stop, don’t stop touching my little pussy. Uhn, yes, yes, yes…! Tristan was starting to rub you harder and harder, and that warm sensation between your legs was starting to get all thick and sweet and dripping.

“Look at you, already about to cum. You wanted this so badly, didn’t you?” Tristan murmured, and his breath gently tickled your ear.

You flinched slightly, and you drew your left shoulder up towards your ear a little. Tristan straightened up, letting you rest your head against the inside of his shoulder.

But you hardly noticed this small act of chivalry as your attention was… otherwise occupied. Tears were beginning to swim in your eyes, and your hips were unconsciously bucking against his hand.

“Wait,” Tristan murmured to you. After all, he was trying to draw the fox out of you. He knew that if he gave you that burst of passion too quickly, the Fox might become satisfied before she influenced your physical form. That would negate the whole point of this little “exercise.” Tristan leaned down again and he said to you, “Just let me show you - ”

But you shook your head, and Tristan felt the edges of your blue hair whipping back and forth across the front of his chest.

“I can’t anymore,” you confessed in a tight, pressing voice. “I can’t wait. Just let me – let me cum on your hand.” Your tone finally betrayed how truly overwhelmed you were. Even though he was only touching your clit, your entire face was getting flushed and your thighs were tightening and shivering all over in anticipation of cumming.

Tristan sighed, frustrated with you. “You’re such a helpless little thing.” But he slid his hand further down to cup your pussy – that way, you could grind against his palm.

You breathed out as you began to move your hips back and forth against his broad palm. “Uh, yes… Just like that…”

Tristan growled softly, as he felt his own energy becoming quite tense as he heard you starting to give way and let him know how good he was making you feel. Tristan wanted to push his finger into your tight little hole, but because he had his hand in your boyshorts and your pants, there wasn’t enough room. At least, there wasn’t enough room to push his hand back and forth the way he needed to properly stuff you full of his fingers.

Even now, as Tristan was moving his hand inside of your boyshorts to please you, his wrist was pushing up against the waistband of your pants and boyshorts, until the top button of your pants threatened to pop free and go scattering off across the wooden floor of Tristan’s office.

Suddenly, Tristan’s hand disappeared. You started to protest, but before you could voice your complaint, Tristan had yanked down your pants and boyshorts down to your thighs with a vigorous yank. Then, Tristan’s fingers quickly fumbled back up over your thighs and – His bare fingers were suddenly sinking into your sweet, sweet folds. They weren’t stuffing you full, not just yet. Rather, he was pushing his fingers against your pussy lips, only to then spread them open, with his index and middle fingers holding your pussy open.

“Oh,” you huffed. Your hips shifted back and forth as you tried to subtly guide his fingers to your pussyhole. Fuck, I need to be filled, you groaned in your head. “Nngh, G-Graves…”

“Stop squirming,” he ordered you, and he gave your pussy a sharp little slap.

You whimpered and stilled at once.

“And it’s Tristan,” he reminded you impatiently. “I’m getting tired of having to tell you my name.”

“Okay, but please… Please just – just…” you mumbled out tiredly. Your vision becoming all hazy and red with want, as though dreamy red roses were bursting into existence before your very eyes. “Just touch me,” you finally finished mumbling out.

But Tristan merely rimmed your pussyhole with your own, sweet cum.

“Graves,” you stressed. “Please.”

He ignored you, continuing to tease you. His other hand was now gripping your waist, keeping you from squirming against his hand anymore than he wished for you to.

You groaned. “Fine. Trist – Ah!”

You never did finish saying his name, as Tristan chose that moment to finally slip his finger inside of your wet, aching pussy.

Oh! Oh, oh, oh, you moaned out in your mind. Yes, this is the feeling I’ve been craving. Only deeper, and faster, and harder, and more. More, please…

Tristan pulled his finger out of you quickly, not even giving you time to really enjoy the feeling of his finger sinking into your aching little cunt.

You frowned, but you didn’t remain disappointed for long, as Tristan pushed two fingers into you as deep as he could. You moaned lowly, as you felt his thick fingers sinking inside of you fast enough to spread your velvety walls open. However, your low moan quickly escalated into a higher, softer, and breathier pitch, until you hit a soft, trembling, little “ah,” just as he pushed his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your cunt.

You shivered deliciously against him, and Tristan nearly praised you. Nearly. He caught himself just before his little compliments of “good girl,” “sweet little cunt,” and “sound so pretty, moaning like that” spilled out of his mouth for you.

You tried to sneak your own hand down, to touch your clit while Tristan stuffed your tight, pink, little cunt with his fingers. But Tristan, ever quick and unrelenting, deftly grabbed your hand to stop you.

“What?” you murmured defensively.

“So impatient,” Tristan sighed. But to appease you, he slid his hand down. Now, he had two fingers pumping in and out of your pussyhole, spreading your glistening wetness everywhere, while with his other hand, he massaged your clit quite roughly, rubbing it, stroking it, and even pinching and tugging at it a little.

“Oh God,” you choked out. “Nngh…!”

This time, when he heard your beautiful moans, Tristan was unable to help himself, and he found himself saying things to you that he never intended. He breathed out a soft murmur, “Good girl, taking my fingers so well.”

You blinked blurrily in surprise. Is he… praising me? Tristan Graves, whispering sweet words of praise right into my ear? Who would’ve thought?

But you were hardly in a state to question the situation. Tristan was beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you faster and faster, so that the friction right at your pussyhole suddenly increased. He was spreading you out on his fingers, and the tighter you became, the faster he gave you his fingers, loving how your little cunt was squeezing all over him.

“Ah…” you breathed out heavily. Your hands had come to rest on Tristan’s forearms, and were now inadvertently following his movement, going up and down, as Tristan ravaged your pussy with his demanding, firm hands.

You felt warmer than ever right between your thighs, and that warmth was starting to spread deeper inside of you, right inside of your little cunt, as you felt his fingers push and push and push at your pussy walls.

Unlike Remus, who often made a point of giving you little breaks – asking you if you were going to cum, giving you soothing kisses, or nuzzling your cheek with his nose so that your heart wouldn’t burst aflame from all the love he was giving you, Tristan was completely different in the way he was with you.

He makes love the way he speaks to me – a gentleman, sure, but rough and demanding, you thought. Mmm, it feels so different from Remus. But, in it’s own way, I suppose it’s rather – fuck, ah – intoxicating… Oh, God… Does it even matter? I want to cum so bad.

“You keep forgetting…” Tristan’s voice startled you, as he reminded you yet again, “look.”

You managed to open your eyes to look at your reflection in the window. It was just in time, too, for that was the moment when your hair changed into a long, flowing silver mane. Even more astonishing, a soft pair of white fox ears suddenly popped out the top of your head.

You gasped in surprise, but Tristan’s hands, still working away on your clit, pleasuring it with rough little circular rubbing motions against the flat of his fingers now, and having worked up a steady, pleasurable rhythm to finger your pussy, stretching out your tight little pussyhole and pushing repeatedly at your throbbing, hot walls, made it altogether impossible for you to speak coherently.

You barely managed to gasp out an incomprehensible, “No! W-Why-? H-How-?” before the pleasure flooding your body rendered you helpless, except to squeak out, in breathless little pants, “Ah, ah, ah!” in time to Tristan finger-fucking your wet little hole. He let out a soft growl, and he added a third finger, making you all but whine in heated, suffocating pleasure.

Why does it feel so good to have his fingers inside of me like that? It’s only Tristan, and it’s not like he’s fucking me with his cock, but Merlin, it feels so very intense, you mused blearily to yourself. Your eyes were now all wet and glossy. You stared numbly at the window, not quite believing that that was you in the window, with your fox ears twitching on the top of your head.

What was more, despite the fact that your thoughts on Tristan and having him pleasure you like this were going back and forth like a pendulum, there was no denying the expression of relief and pleasure on your flushed, bright face. It went beyond mere relief to have your cunt was finally serviced just as it needed to be, by the skilled, demanding fingers of a charismatic and powerful young man. For, if the Fox ever had a favorite type among her prey, one could not deny that her preference was for just the sort-of moody, yet principled (one might say Byronic), character that Tristan Graves presented himself to be.

The Fox purred inside your head, but only partly in satisfaction. Mostly, she craved more. She wanted you, her little puppet, to be made love to by this gorgeous, impressive young man. It would feed her, nourish her, heal her.

But you didn’t understand any of this quite yet. Instead, you’d gone all hazy as the conflicting waves of deep pleasure and even deeper want collided in your body. Your head fell back on Tristan’s shoulders and you panted loudly, gasping into the air. The air feels so thin… And it feels like all of my nerves are buzzing…

Tristan suddenly stopped. His hands disappeared altogether, leaving you empty, wet, and wanting.

A voice growled angrily in your head. Before you knew it, you’d turned around, grabbed Tristan’s shoulders, leaned forward, and given him an angry little bite on his chest.

“Ouch!” Grimacing, Tristan grasped your shoulders and – bam. He instinctively pushed you away from him, until your back hit the bookshelves behind you.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“Why did you stop?” you asked him, nearly hissing at him. In your head, you continued, Don’t you know I need you right now? Can’t you feel how wet I was getting for you? If only you’d kept your fingers in me a little longer, and I’d have finally cum.

“I stopped to talk to you,” Tristan replied, irritated. “Did you already forget why I started to touch you? It was to show you your form.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly remembering. Oh, right, it wasn’t about pleasure at all…

Tristan nodded at your fox ears. “Do you believe me now? About the Nine-Tailed Fox possessing you?”

I’m possessed by the Nine-Tailed Fox? Possessed…? The weight of his words and your realization suddenly hit you all at once. You reached up, and with nervous, fumbling hands, you felt your own ears. It’s all… all soft and fluffy… Oh, no. You closed your eyes, and you slowly shook your head back and forth. Frankly, you were terrified. How could you not be? Supposedly, you were possessed by a mythical creature.

I don’t understand how this could have happened, you thought worriedly. But even as you thought this, a very particular memory invaded your mind:

Two figures, one lying in the freezing snow, and the other hovering above her, with its paws out on either side of her prey’s body, lying in the snow before her…

“What need have you for a human soul?”

“If you are so hollow, to the point where I can literally feel the emptiness in your soul, then I shall occupy that space and use it to escape this wretched forest. Yes, you will be mine and nourish me in an entirely new way.”

A soft, haunting laugh suddenly rang out – and then – SNAP!

You screamed, as the Fox’s fangs shut with a harsh growl, ripping your face off – or so it seemed…

“Are you all right?” Tristan’s calm, measured voice cut through your horrifying memory.

Tristan had watched as you’d shrank back against the bookshelves, and he had noticed when you started shuddering, with your hands fumbling all over your own fox ears.

“I don’t… I can’t…” you began, trying to find your words. Tears slowly filled your eyes. Your hands gently pressed down on your fox ears, folding them down against your head, as if you wanted to deny their existence. Shaking your head, you whispered, “How could this be? This isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted to find the Nine-Tailed Fox. I – I thought I was chasing freedom, not… not this.”

Tristan gazed at you. While his eyes weren’t at all gentle and compassionate, the way Remus’ would have been, they weren’t entirely devoid of sympathy, either. He murmured, almost to himself, “Rowan always said that when it comes to a battle of the soul, mythical creatures are far stronger than us. I didn’t believe him, but it seems that he’s right.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, still whispering faintly.

Tristan sighed. “Listen, I’m not an expert on the Nine-Tailed Fox,” he admitted, “but I know a thing or two about spiritual possession. I’ve had reason to study it prior to meeting you.”

“Spiritual possession?”

“Yes. In your case, the Nine-Tailed Fox has clearly possessed you, and is now inhabiting your body with you,” Tristan explained. “Now, once a spirit forms a connection with a host, the spirit is loathe to let go of the host. Often, it’s because the spirit depends on their host for survival. For example, an Obscurial usually cannot live without its host. I imagine the same is true of your Nine-Tailed Fox. She could not be in this world without means of inhabiting your body.”

You recalled the Fox’s words yet again: “If you are so hollow, to the point where I can literally feel the emptiness in your soul, then I shall occupy that space and use it to escape this wretched forest.”

You gasped to yourself, as you realized, The Nine-Tailed Fox was trapped in that legendary forest, in the very heart of Japan. She was trapped in a place where time had stopped, where it was winter forever, and she could only prey on unwary travelers. When she realized my soul was hollow, she knew she could inhabit it – and she did. She used me to get out.

“Thus,” Tristan continued, unaware of your inner epiphany, “whenever your life is threatened, the Fox takes over your body to use her powers to save you – or rather, save herself.”

“So, when I fell unconscious in the Chamber, when you used your Electrifying Spell on me, or when I was attacked today, the Fox appeared through my body?” you wondered aloud, awed by the mere possibility of your words being true.

Tristan nodded. “Exactly. However, when the Fox uses your body to wield her powers, both her spirit and your body become depleted with energy. You, as a human, require sleep and food. But the Fox…” Tristan reached into his jacket, and he pulled out a very familiar journal.

“That’s mine!” you blurted out. “Those are my notes on - ”

“- The Nine-Tailed Fox, yes,” Tristan agreed. “Tina and I went over these notes in her office while you were healing. I noticed something that you wrote down.” Tristan read aloud from your journal, “‘Whenever a Nine-tailed Foxes transforms into human form, they turn into a beautiful young lady, described in legends as ‘nymph-like.’ The Nine-Tailed Fox takes on such a disguise because it feeds off of passion. Sexual energy is usually the most concentrated form of passion. Thus, the ‘nymph’ disguise allows the Fox to lure in lovers, and the Fox then makes love with their prey. Afterwards, the Fox eats the souls of weaker lovers, but the Fox lets stronger lovers go because they provide nourishment for a far longer time.”

Hearing Tristan recite your own research to you, you were suddenly reminded of yet another memory:

Rowan pressed himself up against you, pushing you against the wall of the train compartment. He gripped your hair tightly in his hair, as he whispered in a cold, unrecognizable voice to you, “I think you’re lying, little nymph.”

“Nymph?” you breathed out, not understanding this strange nickname for you.

“You’re the one who told me that foxes disguise themselves as beautiful nymphs. I told you, I keep my guard up around beautiful young women.” His hands tightened in your hair, and you moaned softly.

You paused, catching yourself. Why am I suddenly thinking about that?

Tristan shut the journal, drawing your attention again. “As I was saying, when the Fox appears through your body, she’s depleting her energy. To nourish and heal, apparently, she requires… passion.”

You let out a short breath of awed understanding. So, that’s why I’ve been feeling such a need to be touched. It’s the Fox, telling me that she needs nourishment.

“So,” Tristan summed up succinctly, “whenever the Fox senses your heartbeat going up, she thinks that you are in trouble. She takes over to save you, because she needs you to survive. Whenever that happens, she becomes hungry. The more power she exerts, the hungrier she becomes. Today, I saw you in what I imagine is your full hybrid form – short of turning you into herself, an actual fox. So, you must – well, she be… famished.”

At his last word, a tight little place deep inside of you thumped. But, for the first time, you finally had some understanding of what was happening. Finally, you could hear and identify the Nine-Tailed Fox within you whispering to you, Come now, all I’m asking for is a little nourishment.

You recognized her voice – at once as bright as frost-covered diamonds and as alluring as silk sliding over one’s skin. Oh my God, it’s really her, somewhere in my soul.

Tristan stood there, gazing at you and studying you. He cocked his head to the side a little as he asked you, “You are hungry, aren’t you?”

The Fox purred silkily in your head. Yes, we’re hungry, sweetheart. The man standing before you; let him make love to you. That’ll do the trick… for now.

But now that you were aware of the Fox inside of you, you were able push back against her. And Tristan’s voice had alerted you to the dangerous nature inherent in the Fox. So, you looked up at Tristan and you asked him, very deliberately, “Before we go any further, tell me: Is your soul strong?”

Tristan hesitated. He contemplated his answer before he finally admitted, “My soul is broken. It has been for years. Still, I reckon there’s enough of it to feed that Nine-Tailed Fox within you.”

The Fox sighed admiringly in your head, adoring the confidence with which Tristan spoke. She whispered to you urgently, He definitely has a strong soul. You can’t do any better. Let him give us our energy back.

But you shook your head, fighting against the Fox in your mind as you said to Tristan, “What if I drag you into this with me? If you aren’t strong enough to satisfy the Fox… I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know that I could save you from her. She is far stronger than me. I can feel it, even now.”

You saw Tristan’s stern expression fall as he realized that you were trying to protect him. He didn’t say anything, but he walked over to you. He slid his hand under your chin and gently pushed your head up. He gazed into your eyes for a long moment, searching for that silver light. But in that moment, the silver light was very subtle, and it was unquestioningly your own bright, glittering, dark eyes gazing back up at him, full of worry and concern and uncertainty.

Tristan’s lips parted. He spoke softly, almost mournfully, as he told you, “As I said, I reckon I’ll be all right. So, don’t feel guilty, and take me.”

It was the permission you – and the Fox inside you - were desperately hoping for. You threw your arms around Tristan, leaping lightly onto your tip-toes to hungrily press your mouth to his.

Tristan was surprised by how fervently you kissed him, and how tightly you squeezed his shoulders. He’d thought he was fully aware of how desperate you were to be touched. But now, as you finally let yourself show how badly you wanted this, wanted him, he realized that you had been holding back quite a bit.

Tristan started to adjust himself to properly receive you as he was taller than you, but he quickly realized that he didn’t need to because you pressed yourself right up against him, until you were just a shivering little thing all but melting into him.

Your soft, warm lips pressed eagerly against his, encouraging him to part his lips a bit more for you. And when he gave in to you, you wasted no time in locking your lips with his, and all the while, you were shivering right up against him.

Tristan reached up and pushed your long hair back from your face before his hands traveled down your curves. When you felt his hands grasping at your sides like that, you breathed out. Exhaling softly, you really did melt in his hands, as you softened right into his grasp.

Tristan nearly moaned. You were so sensual like this. Your body seemed to follow the very curve of his hands, and he found that you fit his grasp so very perfectly. Somehow, your hips were also already right up against his, rubbing softly against him, and Tristan couldn’t help but think about how they, too, might do more than just fit perfectly in his hands, how he could grip you by your hips and hold you in a position where he could just take you.

Tristan suddenly growled softly, as he was secretly getting carried away by his own imagination. But it was impossible not to, when he was with you like this.

Feeling his growl hum softly against your lips, you hesitated, pulling back a little as you silently wondered what had made Tristan react like that. Then, almost as though you sensed Tristan’s train of thoughts, you blushed beautifully before him. Your eyelashes fluttered as you looked down, and the fire in the fireplace made little crescents appear on your pretty face, just below your eyelashes, casting those familiar, soft foxtail-fern-patterned shadows under your eyes. You couldn’t see yourself, of course, but if you had, you would have been reminded of Remus, and how Remus’ long eyelashes often made it seem like there were angels landing lightly atop his eyelashes and casting light silver shadows under his eyes. Your eyelashes weren’t quite as long as his, but they still resulted a pretty enough spell anyways, mesmerizing Tristan.

Tristan reluctantly removed one hand from your waist, but he did so to touch your flushed cheek.

“You’re… so warm,” he whispered, his voice somehow muffled by the sheer intensity of the intimacy that had sprung up between you two.

“Too warm?” you wondered. “Do you need me to step away?”

“No,” Tristan replied quickly. “I want you closer.”

“You do?”

Instead of answering you, Tristan just pulled you back to him. He kissed you again, but this time, the focus had switched over to how you were touching each other. Your hands roamed around everywhere, and some heavy petting ensued as you explored each other’s bodies. You ran your hands up and down Tristan’s strong arms, before traveling all the way up to his shoulders, then dropping down to feel his firm, broad chest and then dropping down even more to touch his sculpted abs through his vest and his shirt. Meanwhile, Tristan was slowly pushing you up against the bookshelf, with his hands gripping your waist, then stroking your hips, and then smoothly gliding over your little tummy, before dipping down to roam all over the front of your thighs and even traveling back to grasp your ass for a moment, and then finally tracing the curve between your waist and your hips over and over again.

In-between this heavy, hot sessions, full of wanting kisses and roaming hands and desperate panting into each other’s mouths, Tristan managed to breathe out, “There’s no – uhn – need to rush. I’m not – I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded fervently, pulling back a little and staring up at him with half-glazed eyes as he talked to you. But as soon as he had finished making his remarks, you kissed him right as you’d left off – needily, wantingly, achingly. You desired him so much – or at least, the Fox within you did. A soft purring grew within you, making your body vibrate and tingle all over with a strange, lively sensation. Everywhere Tristan touched you, it was like your body was responding at an atomic level, pleading for more, more, more.

And Tristan, well, he couldn’t help but give it to you. While he wasn’t feeling that deep, hungry ache that you were feeling, that need to be filled until your aching body was completely satisfied, Tristan was feeling another effect. He was very slowly falling – not in love – but into a deep and intense connection of sexual intimacy with you. It was a difficult feeling to explain. In fact, Tristan himself wasn’t even sure if it was a feeling or an experience. All he knew was that he didn’t mind at all that he had you the way he did. He didn’t mind one bit having your warm, shivering form in his hands, and pressing his lips against your soft mouth over and over again, and gently pushing your hips down against the bookcase behind you with his own hips. In fact, all things considered, Tristan Graves was incredibly accepting of the fact that he happened to be the man who had to offer his soul to you. And what was truly incredible was that this acceptance came from a man whose primary resolution in life was to make something great of himself, to sacrifice himself not for the good of a single person, the way his father had insisted, but for the world. So, why was he now content with looking after you?

In truth, what neither you (even with all of your research and dreaming) nor Tristan (with his lust for power and glory) could fully comprehend was the incredible power of the Nine-Tailed Fox. In fact, no one of this generation could possibly understand the Fox’s full power. Because while the concepts of sexuality and passion have been made out in modern society to be something obscene and crude, sexuality and passion once imparted a far deeper meaning, celebrating a dynamic physical energy that blossomed to the point of an exercise in spirituality. Humankind needed a capacity for rationality and reflection, of course, but to be limited to those two capacities was to invite a slow, but painful suicide. Passion, in whatever form, was the balancing ingredient – the element that re-introduced the will to live amidst all of the thinking that humans often pursued endlessly. Sexuality was special because it combined this journey of finding a thoughtful, yet spirited life, with our ability and need to connect with another human being.

Thus, the Nine-Tailed Fox didn’t just lure in those she found attractive for her own sake. She also fulfilled her promise of a blissful night – she satisfied her partner, too, and not just their physical desires, but the neglected aspects of their soul, too. In fact, while the Nine-Tailed Fox wished to avoid men with weak souls in the first place, even when she did have to resort to eating their souls, she would do so only after granting them the deepest pleasure, sending them into a nirvanic state of ecstatic and pleasure before they left this world. To translate this into the physical world, it meant not just that the Fox had the ability to provide great romance, but it meant that she could invoke a certain atmosphere, enhancing not just the feeling, but the entire experience of pleasure between her and her lover. So, yes, it elevated physical senses, allowing our physical forms to reach a level of physical ecstasy otherwise impossible. But that expression of ecstasy was actualized through many layers, not just the physical. It was a far more subtle exercise of power than we could appreciate today, for it played upon time-old notions of sexuality and spirituality, with the most enticing of all of those notions being power.

That, in large part, was why Tristan could not help but give in to you. He had his rational reasons, of course – to figure you out and to keep the Nine-Tailed Fox under control by keeping you by his side, where he could watch over you. But the Fox’s wiles were also definitely at play here, though Tristan didn’t notice it yet. For while Tristan Graves was a most upstanding gentleman with an exceptionally sturdy soul, he was far more power-hungry than most young men his age, and that rendered him extremely susceptible to the Fox’s influence.

In fact, that was part of the reason why the Fox liked Tristan. She was enamored by Tristan, certainly, but she also knew just how to play him. See, the Fox was not like you. You might have loved Remus even when he didn’t love you back; but the Fox only felt attracted towards those she could offer something of value to, and in return, be valued herself. Therein lay your spiritual resistance to her.

At the moment, however, the Fox was clearly winning out, forging an excellent connection between you and Tristan. She had, after all, saved your life today, only she had spent nearly all her power to burst out of you like that, and she had even drawn on the power of her tails to protect you. The least you could do for her, she thought, was to heal her and nourish her again by making deep, passionate love with this charming young man.

Thus, now, the Fox kept pushing you in her subtle, clever way, to want more and more and more… Make love, she whispered to the both of you, and she influenced your body language to reflect that want for this handsome young man. She pushed you ever so gently from within, showing you just the right way to blush and bat your eyelashes for a man. And to her delight, Tristan responded to you, touching you in all the right ways until he was clearly meeting your level of feverish want.

More, the Fox kept whispering. More.

How…? you wondered, not even really aware that you were responding to the Fox.

He’ll show you, the Fox replied. Follow his guide. Because you need to pleasure him to then have him pleasure you. And that’s what you want. That’s what we need.

Sure enough, as you and Tristan kept kissing, Tristan’s hands wandered up and slid into your long, silver hair. He gathered your hair into one hand. Then, he gently pushed you down onto your knees. As you fell onto your knees, your hands slid down Tristan’s abs and then separated to run over his hips.

You looked up at him wonderingly, with your hands resting lightly on his hips.

But Tristan minced no words, as he said to you bluntly, “You know what I want.”

Hm? you thought. Then, realizing the position you were in, you realized, Oh.

You leaned forward a little uncertainly, with your hands traveling back up Tristan’s fine body.

Tristan gazed down at you, watching as you attempted to undo his vest instead of his pants. But he let you be, even if his cock was throbbing uncomfortably against the inside of his zipper right now.

When you finally finished with the buttons of his vest, he quickly shrugged it off of him.

But then, you and Tristan both sighed when you saw that underneath his button-up vest was… his long-sleeved button-up shirt.

“Damn it, Graves. Too many buttons,” you grumbled.

“Forget the shirt. Just undo the belt,” Tristan returned easily. He saw your brow furrow and your fox ears droop ever so slightly at your annoyance over his attire, which Tristan, despite his impatience, found quite amusing.

But thankfully, you were already muttering, “Oh, fine.” Despite how grumpy you pretended to be, it honestly didn’t take much convincing for you at all to undress any part of Tristan right now, and you quickly made to tug at his belt buckle. You yanked rather impatiently at the silver buckle on his black leather belt.

Finally, you’d gotten his belt off, and you wasted no time sliding your hand into his briefs.

Give him a little show now, a silky voice whispered in your head. If he’s a man of taste, he’ll appreciate all the little bells and whistles you give him.

I don’t know what ‘bells and whistles’ mean. Remus always told me he liked everything I did…

The Fox snorted in your head, entirely unimpressed. Focus on the charming man in front of you, will you? But don’t overthink it. Just do as you feel you should.

You hesitated. Then, leaning forward, you rested your cheek on Tristan’s hip and turning your head a little, you gazed up at him. Meanwhile, your hand wrapped warmly around his shaft. You slowly began to run your hand up and down, coaxing his cock to grow stiff for you.

Tristan saw the way your own shyness flickered in the darkness of your eyes before the dancing silver light around your irises blossomed, overtaking your own hesitation with a soft flame of fire that was, no doubt, light reflected from the warmth tingling between your legs.

Tristan groaned softly in his head. He couldn’t wait to fuck you. He had to have you, and he knew it. To resist you was a lost cause. He needed to feel you, and he needed to feel you in all ways – to feel your soft little mouth on him, but also to feel your pretty pussy taking him in. He needed to hear you cry out for him as he made you take his cock deep until he was hitting up against you over and over again, and then – he needed to see how much more you would shiver for him, until you were cumming uncontrollably all over his cock. That – all of it – was what Tristan needed. But to get there, he needed to be ready for you. So, he said to you commandingly, “Tighter.”

“Okay,” you whispered, and you obediently wrapped your hand around him a bit tighter, gathering your fingers into a little fist.

Tristan breathed out softly, feeling your warm, soft hand go up and down his length. Your index finger kept slipping just over the tip of his cock before your ran your hand back down again.

“Does it feel good?” you whispered, rather curiously. You’d only ever done this for Remus, and despite what you told the Fox, you were sure that Remus, with all his gentleness and kindness, would never admit even if you pleasured him unsatisfyingly.

Tristan, however, was equally unhelpful in his own way, for he merely said, “Your mouth would be better.”

You blinked, a bit confused. However, only a moment later, you felt that gentle, silky hum vibrate through your mind, and you found yourself opening your mouth for him.

Tristan’s hands slid quickly into your hair and he guided you to his cock. Then, he pushed your head down a little impatiently so that suddenly, his cock was filling up your mouth entirely. You nearly gagged, but a voice hissed in your mind, Relax. Give him that little throat of yours. You can take it.

You whimpered slightly, and your hands curled up into little fists on your knees. You closed your eyes, and you tried to breathe through your nose. That helped you to relax your throat. But as soon as you had relaxed your throat just a bit, Tristan’s cock immediately pushed in, making use of your pretty little throat to pleasure himself.

Tristan groaned again. “Fuck,” he cursed. So wet… and warm… Mm… And she’s panting all over my cock. I can feel her warm little huffs all over me.

After only a few moments of fucking your throat open, Tristan thrust his cock quite deep into your throat. You whimpered and your hands shot out to press against his thighs. When Tristan felt your hands suddenly push against him, he quickly let you go. With his own hands, he abruptly grabbed onto the bookshelf across from him. He gripped the wooden edge tightly as he barely stopped himself from cumming right there and then, in your cute little mouth.

You coughed a little and you wiped your eyes. You weren’t crying, but your eyes had welled up somewhat with that last thrust.

Good, the Fox said soothingly in your head. Now, you’ll get your reward.

That was when Tristan said gruffly, “That’s enough. Get up. I need to be inside you now.”

You slowly and unsteadily got to your feet. You had to be careful getting up because with the way Tristan had his arms out, grasping the bookcase behind you, you were already caught between Tristan and the bookshelf. So, you had to get up almost perfectly straight in order not to bump into Tristan or the bookcase.

Once you were standing again, your brow furrowed a little as you realized how heavily Tristan was panting. You couldn’t see much of his face, as he had his head lowered to catch his breath. But you could make out the way his chest straining under his button-up shirt. You hesitated, as your fingers itched to reach forward and unbutton all of those fancy buttons…

However, when you pressed your hand against Tristan’s chest, you could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and you stopped as a sudden wave of sadness washed over you. Tristan is someone, too. A man, with a heart and a soul and a mind… If I’m only drawn to him because of the Fox within me, is it right to treat him this way? To take what I want just to satiate the mystical spirit within me, that, after all, I was foolish enough to spend my entire life chasing after? Having fun, the way I did with Sirius, is one thing. But this intimacy between us, if it’s not real, isn’t it cruel to keep up this illusion? Tristan Graves could be somebody else’s Remus Lupin. Who am I to treat him this way?

When you kept your hand pressed against his chest, just over his heart, and didn’t move for a long moment, Tristan looked up at you. Noticing the way your soft silhouette was shivering against the bookshelf, Tristan murmured, “You’re trembling. What is it?”

You replied, “We’re strangers, Mr. Graves.”

Tristan scoffed a little. “Yes, we are – and we will be until you remember to call me Tristan.”

But you didn’t respond to Tristan’s witty remark. Instead, you mumbled, with your eyes downcast, “It’s not that I don’t want to make love with you. I… do.”

Tristan lifted his head at last at your confession.

But you went on to say, “However, the last man who made love to me… I loved him, and I can’t imagine making love with someone I don’t anymore. And I don’t want to treat you as if you mean what he meant to me, if I don’t truly have feelings for you. It’s not right, and it’s not fair – to you or to me.” Your second confession lingered in the air in a painful, hovering whisper, entirely wiping away the tender effect of the first.

Tristan was silent for a long moment. Then, you felt the back of his fingers flutter over your cheek as he wondered aloud, “Why did the Fox decide to inhabit a naïve girl like you?”

Lifting your eyes to meet his gaze, you retorted defiantly, “I’m not naïve. Sleeping only with the man I love doesn’t make me – Oh!”

As you replied to him rather angrily, you had unintentionally grabbed onto the front of his shirt, accidentally popping off a button.

You changed tune at once, saying in a flustered voice, “S-Sorry!”

Tristan sighed and shook his head at you. “Why would I care about that?” he asked you.

“Huh?” you said, a bit confused. “I ripped your button…”

Tristan suddenly grabbed your hips and pushed you back roughly.

You breathed out sharply as you felt your back hit up against the wooden bookcase behind you. “Uhn!”

While Tristan pushed you back against the bookshelf and pinned you down by your hips, he also leaned forward and dropped his head a little to press his mouth against your warm, slender neck.

“Tristan?” you whispered, almost afraid.

“I don’t care about my shirt. So, don’t apologize for it,” Tristan murmured, as he kissed your neck softly, letting his lips linger over your soft skin.

“Oh…” Naturally, your hands, which were now pressed up against his chest, gripped wantingly at the thin shirt he was wearing, but the fabric was too stiff to be clutched at.

“But I hate your shirt,” you breathed out to Tristan.

“Well, I’m not going to apologize for it, either,” Tristan murmured back. Then, he sucked hard at your neck.

You sank back against the bookcase as Tristan was sucking on your neck a little too hard for your liking.

Tristan’s hands quickly slipped up your back. “Where are you going?” he whispered. “Don’t run away.”

“But – But I – Oh…” You moaned lowly as you felt Tristan’s body pressing up against yours, following you to stay as close as he could to you. In particular, his hips were pushing rather hungrily against yours, and all the while, he was kissing your skin aflame and leaving all kinds of suck and bite marks on your neck. He tried to leave them on your shoulders, too, but your shirt was in the way.

Tristan reached up and he felt your breasts, kneading them through your shirt and bra with his strong, firm hands.

“I like your shirt,” Tristan told you in a perfectly gentlemanly voice.

Then, he proceeded to rip it easily in his hands, tearing it right in half and off of your body.

You gasped, and Tristan took that moment to capture your open mouth in a hot, passionate kiss - but not before he told you, “See? I told you, you have to learn how to get what you want.”

Unfair, you thought in your head. Just because I was trying to treat his fancy shirt nicely, and this is how I’m repaid? Bastard.

The corner of Tristan’s lips twitched. You felt it, as his mouth was pressed fervently against yours. He paused in devouring your mouth to whisper knowingly, “You’re insulting me in your head, aren’t you?”

“W-What?” you huffed out, surprised at being caught.

“I can tell,” Tristan told you. “Even the Fox can’t charm that away.”

When he saw your reluctant, yet admitting expression, he gave you a satisfied smirk.

“Shall we tame the fox between us?” he asked you softly.

You paused, and your eyes flickered up to his. For a moment, you studied the way his emerald eyes blinked mysteriously in the low, flickering firelight of his office. Because while he was clearly teasing you, and a bit condescendingly at that, there was something soft in his voice, as though he genuinely meant to take care of you.

But why?

Despite your doubts and fears, you did, in fact, find yourself trusting Tristan Graves more and more. But you yourself didn’t quite know why. And most importantly – was it the Fox that wanted to trust him, or was it you?

Before your thoughts could put a pause to what was happening again, you unexpectedly felt Tristan slip his hand up into your silver hair. Then, a second later, he slowly and teasingly ran his finger up and down the side of your soft little fox ear.

Oh… Your ears twitched, and the Fox within you purred most happily at this small little acknowledgement of her existence. Without meaning to, you let out a soft, tantalizing moan. Tristan smirked at you for a brief moment, before he leaned down and kissed your shoulders, which were his prize for ripping open your shirt. Tristan lavished your shoulders with such attention that you were sure to have a marks all over your shoulders, too, in addition to your neck, which was already sprouting with a pretty pattern of pink and mauve patches from Tristan’s many love bites.

Your hands fluttered uncertainly over his strong chest before finding their way up to his broad shoulders. Tristan wasn’t like Rowan, who hugged you to him as he took you, or like Sirius, who found all kinds of ways to gently, but inescapably grip, choke, and spank you, nor was he like Remus, who kept your safely tucked away underneath him and held your hands as he made love to you and whose slender frame was perfect for hugging. No, with Tristan, you had to find your own way around his strong, unrelenting stature.

Feeling your hands scrambling to grip his shoulders, Tristan took the opportunity to slide his hands under your thighs and bring you up, sitting you on the edge of the bookshelf, so that you were a little taller than him.

A soft huff of breath left your lips when you felt yourself being set down on the shelf. Tristan, feeling your little pant brush across his neck, immediately put his hand against your cheek, and guiding your face down towards him, he leaned forward and kissed you again.

Perched on the edge of the bookshelf and being gently pulled forward to meet Tristan’s kiss, you instinctively held onto Tristan to make sure that you wouldn’t fall off. Your arms were snug around his shoulders now, pulling him closer to you. As he stepped closer to you, his hips pushed your thighs open. You felt your thighs slid over his hips, until he was standing right in-between your legs, pressed up against you. When his cock pushed up against your pussy, you both groaned aloud. You pulled away from Tristan’s kiss and naturally arched your back in response to the sudden jolt that ran between your thighs. Your head fell gently against the books behind you for a moment, and your ears twitched.

Meanwhile, while you were leaning back like that, Tristan was making short work of the rest of your clothes. You hardly noticed when he unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor, or even when he started to quickly strip your pants off of your long legs.

However, when he pulled your bottoms off, one of the cuffs caught on your sock. Tristan gave a firm, impatient yank, and the jeans went flying off – as did the one sock. The sudden jerk also made you slide forward. You were already right on the edge of the bookshelf, so Tristan quickly grabbed you by your waist to steady you.

By now, your shirt, all ripped open, was lying in tatters around your waist, and your bra was gone, revealing your perky little breasts, and when Tristan made to grab you, his hands grasped your bare waist. And when you felt the heat of his hands on your bare skin, your breath hitched.

The Fox was ecstatic. You could almost feel her tails swishing inside of your soul. The softest purr began to hum out a gorgeous melody within you, and the next time you looked up at Tristan Graves, your eyes were stunning – silky and alluring and dazzling. Meanwhile, your glistening silver hair fell down in long, soft waves on either side of your body, curling just at the ends to rest softly at the sides of your breasts.

Tristan paused, his breath catching for just a moment. My God, having her in her silver fox form is so enticing. No wonder the Nine-Tailed Fox can outwit so many men out of their own souls. It goes beyond beauty, straight into the ethereal. And to be able to have her like this, to be able to make her mine… The sense of power it promises, the sense of satisfaction it teases, is incredible. After all, that’s what beauty is all about isn’t it? Sex. And sex, in turn, is power… To have a woman who so clearly symbolizes all of those things is dizzying.

Still holding onto him, at that moment, as if on cue, you slowly began to push your hips against him, rubbing your little pussy over the bulge in Tristan’s pants.

Without meaning to, Tristan let out a soft, “uhn…”

You looked up at him and you pressed a kiss against his chest as you continued to rub yourself against him.

“See?” you whispered to him. “If you’d let me take your shirt off, you would be feeling my lips on your bare chest now...”

“Yes,” Tristan agreed, his cock now throbbing in his suddenly too-tight pants, “but we have other things, more pressing things, that we can’t wait to feel.”

“That’s true,” you mumbled, as you continued milking his cock through his pants and pressing hot, feverish kisses against his chest. You kept your face pressed softly to his chest for so long, giving him little kisses in time to pressing yourself up against him and rubbing your clit up and down the outline of his cock, that when Tristan finally pulled you away, your cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink.

“Tell me what you want from me,” Tristan told you, as he cupped your face in both of his hands and leaned down to kiss you passionately again. “Tell me what you want to feel.”

“You already know,” you mumbled out, eyes shut. Your hands slipped down from his shoulders and held onto his sides as you kissed him back.

“Yes,” Tristan agreed, after a long minute of kissing. Pressing his lips against yours again, he murmured, “But tell me anyway.”

“Um…” For a moment, your true personality shone through, and your hesitation and relative inexperience revealed itself. But then, the Fox began to dance around in your chest again, and you found yourself knowing exactly what to say.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered to him, pausing only to slip your tongue across his lower lip for the briefest second before saying, in a tantalizingly warm voice, “I want to feel you filling me up with every inch of you. I want to feel you forcing my little pussy open, when I’m still all tight for you. Make me feel you, Tristan. That’s what I want. It’s the only way you’ll satisfy me. And I promise, I promise to be very…”

Tristan shivered, when he felt your lips graze his jaw as you continued to whisper, “very good for you. All I want, all I ask, is that you remind me exactly who I belong to tonight, by giving my aching little cunt exactly what it needs – to be filled up… all the way, over and over again, with you.”

“Fuck,” Tristan breathed out. “Fuck.”

You smiled lightly to yourself, a sly Fox’s smile, but you hid your smile by giving Tristan another line of kisses down the side of his neck.

With so much energy pent-up inside of him, Tristan growled in a deep, bear-like, voice, “Enough of that. Enough. I just – I want you. Lay back.”

“I can’t, silly,” you told him, blinking up at him again. “You have me against a bookshelf.”

“No, like this.” Tristan pressed his left hand against your chest, slowly pushing you back against the bookshelf. But with his right hand, he carefully dragged your hips forward right to the very edge.

Then, Tristan slowly and steadily ran his hand down the length of your torso, starting from your throat all the way to your lower tummy…

However, you reached down and you caught his hand in yours just before he touched you between your legs.

“You want me?” you whispered to him, clutching onto his fingers and holding them hostage for a moment. You brought his fingers to your mouth and you slowly opened your lips. Lifting your head a little, you took his fingers into your mouth and sucked on them.

Tristan breathed out sharply.

“I told you… I confessed to you how badly I want you,” you whispered to him, mumbling a little around his fingers. “You have to tell me something, too.”

Keeping his fingers in your mouth and still sucking away, you then spread your thighs open a little on top of the bookshelf.

You slowly reached down, with your hand following the same path that Tristan had just traced down your body – only you let your hand fall down further, and then, you tantalizingly began to touch yourself. Tristan’s eyes dropped down your body, now exposed so beautifully before him. He held his breath for a moment when he saw the way your fingers were pushing against your boyshorts, and he realized that you were starting to play with your clit, before your hand slipped down even lower to press against your little pink pussyhole.

As you did, you bit gently on Tristan’s fingers, and you stared at Tristan with dazzling eyes as your stroked your little cunt sensually, playing with yourself until that little puddle in your boyshorts grew wetter and wetter…Your thighs twitched, and your breathed out, and that soft huff sent a sudden burst of air across Tristan’s now-wet fingers, still in your mouth. Tristan’s fingers pressed lightly against your tongue for a moment, as he became quite stiff with his suddenly overwhelming want of you.

Tristan had to swallow to get his voice back, to whisper to you, “Let me touch you.” It still sounded like a command, but it was spoken so fervently that it was as close to begging as you’d ever heard Tristan get.

But that wasn’t enough. You needed him to respond to you. So, you whispered back, even though you were aching too, likely even more than he was, “Tell me.”

Tristan lifted his other hand, and he ran it down your body, stopping to cup your breasts before his palms traveled your lines down to your toned tummy. But he stopped there, sensing that he wasn’t allowed to touch you, that you wouldn’t let him have you, until he made his confession, too.

So, he finally admitted, “Yes. I want you.”

You bit your lower lip softly as you looked up at him, taking in his confession. But Tristan was gazing down between your legs, for he could see your sweet little pussy outlined in your wet boyshorts, waiting for him, just waiting to be filled and satisfied with an absolute pounding. He reached down and pulled your hand away from between your legs, as if to say, I’ve made my confession. You’re mine now.

“Hold onto the bookcase,” Tristan told you, in a muted, tight voice that was barely above a whisper. “And lift your legs for me.”

You slowly reached out and did as he asked, pressing your palms against the wooden bookcase on either side of you. Tristan reached down and he pulled your boyshorts off of you. They fell to the floor with the softest little swish. Then, you lifted your trembling thighs enough to let Tristan see you completely bare and spread open for him.

Tristan let out a soft moan when he finally saw your pretty pink pussy, so perfect and already glistening wetly for him.

What a cute little cunt, especially for such a tomboy, Tristan thought to himself, and he smirked a little. Makes me want to fuck it full of cum, to just drench her pussy all over with thick, hot cum. My cum.

“You really are so wet,” Tristan told you. A soft smirk appeared on his face as he teased you, “Maybe I do know why the Fox chose you.”

“Shut up,” you blurted out, but you were blushing a little.

“Fine.” Tristan lifted his eyebrow at you before he began to tease you again, saying, “Then, shall I go -?”

“No, no, don’t do that,” you said hurriedly, reaching out and gripping at his arms. “Don’t go.”

“Then, you had better be on your best behavior for me,” Tristan said softly, and he ran his fingertip along your lips before pushing it back into your mouth once again, making you breathe out, “ah,” before he traced his wet fingertip down your neck, chest, tummy once more. This time he kept going, dragging his fingertip over the inside of your smooth, strong thigh and down to your sensitive little clit…

You shuddered softly as his fingers gently massaged your clit a few times before slipping further down.

“Ah!” You gasped louder than intended as Tristan slowly pushed his finger inside of your tight, wet hole.

“Fuck, you’re going to be tight,” Tristan murmured.

You squirmed, both from feeling his finger delving into your pulsing warmth, and because, in the back of your mind, you were still a bit uncomfortable with the idea that…

“You’re really going to make love to me?” you asked him.

“You don’t want me to?” Tristan asked you. He paused, though he still kept you up against that bookshelf. “I thought we confessed that we want each other. Isn’t that enough?”

You hesitated, looking up at him. “Well, yes,” you said softly. “I suppose so. It’s just that…” At that very moment, most miraculously, a snowflake skittered across your vision. You blinked in surprise. Then, another snowflake fell, and another, and another…

Close your eyes. Trust me. I’m not going to hurt you, for our interests are currently aligned. And I won’t let him hurt you, either, my pet. But I need my strength back, and so do you.

By making love with a stranger? Is that really what you want?

Yes. Not everything is about love, my poor child. Sometimes, in the absence of love, we must find other ways of healing.

Tristan started as you uncertainly slid down a little ways. Tristan’s arms immediately came up to catch your legs, so that your knees were hooked over his elbows as you lowered yourself until your pussy was flush to his bulge. In doing so, it only took a few seconds before your wet cunt soaked through his pants and left a little wet mark right up against where his cock was straining against his pants.

Tristan’s jaw clenched and he tightly grasped the bookcase on either side of you, and as you slipped down even more, Tristan could feel the plushness of your soft little ass rub up for a moment against his wrists.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Tristan told you hoarsely. “First you want me, now you don’t. I keep asking you: What do you really want? Answer me.”

You paused, suddenly feeling guilty. But the truth was that you did want Tristan, and yet, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you weren’t supposed to be doing this with anyone other than… Remus. Not only because of the feelings you had for Remus, but also because of how he had always treated you with such kindness. It wasn’t just betraying your feelings to sleep with Tristan. It could also be betraying him, Remus. After all, Remus was the only man who had ever told you that you tasted sweet…

“Before we make love, I want you to taste me,” you whispered. “If you still want me then, we can… make love tonight.” You swallowed hard. Tell me I taste bitter. Tell me that… that…

Tristan blinked, not entirely sure what you meant by all this. Nonetheless, he slowly lowered his head, and simultaneously, he slid his hands under your ass and brought you up to his mouth, too, so that you were leaning back on your elbows on the bookshelf, while the rest of your body was lifted in the air, held up by Tristan’s strong arms. Now, his hands were on your ass and your pussy was so close to his mouth, so close to being kissed, to being tongued, to being tasted…

“Mm.” You breathed out a short, sharp puff of air as you felt Tristan’s lips press against your wet cunt.

“What – What do I taste like?” you asked him at once. “Bitter?”

Instead of answering, you felt Tristan’s tongue lavishing your little clit. “Ah…” You struggled to gather yourself, as you mumbled out, “Wait, t-tell me what I t-taste like. Uh…”

However, Tristan merely replied, “You taste like you want to be fucked.”

“I – I do?” you stuttered out uncertainly. Now, you were the one uncertain about where all of this was going.

“Yes,” he replied very matter-of-factly, “you do.”

Tristan suddenly yanked you forward, and you gasped and hugged him to keep from falling. With your legs folded up against his torso, you immediately made to cross your feet behind his back to keep yourself anchored to him. Meanwhile, with your arms tightly encircling his shoulders, and your face pressed to his chest, your pussy was now flush to his lower pelvis. You barely had time to comprehend the position you were suddenly in when Tristan managed to reach down and guide his stiff cock to your wet little pussyhole.

Feeling his cock beginning to push at your pussyhole, you whimpered, more than a little shocked, but still undeniably wanting it. You just felt so hot between your legs. For fuck’s sake, your little cunt was throbbing and dripping all over the place for Tristan’s cock. But it still frightened you to think about what was happening. It was so against your nature to let a stranger have you like this… You shut your eyes and clutched onto Tristan tightly.

But the Fox had a few choice words for you. Don’t lie. Your little sessions with Sirius Black weren’t exactly out of love, either, the Fox hissed at you. And with Rowan Scamander, can you truly call that love? Besides that, can you really tell me that you knew Remus Lupin? Drop the innocent act.

Right as the Fox finished speaking, Tristan finally pushed his cock inside of you.

“Ah!” you gasped loudly against Tristan’s chest as you felt his cock absolutely spreading you open.

Tristan groaned, and you felt his hot breath pass just above your fox ears, and you shivered. “I was right. Your little cunt’s so fucking tight.” At the last word, Tristan thrust up into you.

You whimpered, and your hips trembled. You couldn’t quite go anywhere, though, as he was holding you up, and you were hugging onto him with both your arms and legs. Your knees were still flush against his obliques, and your thighs were tightly wrapped around his waist as much as possible, with your feet (with only one sock still on) neatly crossed against his lower back.

You did your best to pull yourself up, however, hugging him tighter until your arms slipped from his shoulders to his neck and you managed to get your chin up from his chest to barely nudging against his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Tristan asked you sternly, feeling you try to tug yourself up him.

“I’m, um…” You just clutched onto him and stared up at him. Then, you slowly lowered yourself back down, blushing, until your warm little cunt was sitting right above the tip of his cock.

Tristan, however, whispered right into your ear, “Keep going. Sit on me. I want to feel that warm little cunt of yours open up for me. And I want you to be the one who initiates.”

You realized what Tristan was doing: He was giving you a chance at a final out. You shut your eyes. Oh, Remus, I wish it were you. But you’re not here anymore.

Still hugging Tristan around his neck, you let yourself slid down a little further on his body and –

“A-Ah -” Your breath caught as you felt Tristan’s cock push past your pussy lips and then split your tight little hole open.

“Mmm…!” You moaned desperately as you felt Tristan finally enter you.

Tristan’s jaw clenched. With the way he was holding your legs up and his hands gathered at the small of your back, you felt his palms push harder against your back and his fingers start to press into your skin.

“Come on,” Tristan said, and his voice was harsh as his teeth were gritted together. You stared up at him, and Tristan was sure that you could not comprehend how very tight you were for him, all stretched out and shivering on just the tip of his cock. “Take me deeper.”

But it had been such a long time since you had made love, and with Tristan, you were still so tense. It was hard not to be tight and tense. And Tristan’s cock was so hard. He was going to split you open until you begged for mercy. Even with just the tip of his cock inside of you, you could already tell.

However, you could tell that Tristan was growing impatient, and besides that, you wanted to feel more of him inside of you. You took a shuddering deep breath, and you slipped just a little further down.

“Uhn.” You’d only taken half an inch more and yet –

“Tristan,” you whispered in a trembling voice. “Please. I don’t think I can – um - ”

“What? Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re…” You flushed as you admitted, “…you’re too big. You have to push yourself into me.”

Tristan sighed in resignation. “Fine. Should’ve known you were a pillow princess.”

“A what?” you said, highly insulted.

Keeping silent, Tristan carried you over to his desk, which was clear in the middle. He laid you down on top of it. Then, he helped guide your legs up until your feet were propped up on the edge of the desk, on either side of Tristan’s hips.

Then, Tristan, with one hand on your inner thigh to hold you in place, and the other guiding his cock to your sex, stepped forward. His hands slipped up your curves and over your shoulders, landing on the desk on either side of your head, as he leaned over you.

Tristan stared into your eyes with an adamant gaze. You gazed back into his startling green eyes curiously. For a moment, you thought you saw something like a grey wisp of cloud in one of his eyes.

But just then, Tristan closed his eyes and he thrust his hips forward, pushing his thick, hard cock into your tight pussy at last.

“Ah! F-Fuck!” you gasped aloud, as you felt his cock cram into your tight cunt, absolutely filling you up right from the start, and forcing your walls apart for you to take him. You immediately started panting. “Ah, ah, ah!”

Tristan saw the way your little fox ears curled at the tips, matching the way your toes were already starting to curl up, too.

“Does it hurt?” Tristan huffed, hovering over you.

You shook your head. “N-No, it’s not that it hurts… But it feels so intense. And it feels…” Your voice drifted off uncertainly, as more snowflakes began to spiral down from the ceiling above the two of you, even though that made no sense whatsoever.

“Do you see it too?” you whispered to Tristan, staring past his shoulder at the air above him.

“See what?”

“The… The snowflakes falling all around us.”

Tristan hesitated. He did see them, but he didn’t want to admit it, as that would be admitting that the Fox had great power over him. He silently watched you for a moment, and he saw the dancing snowflakes reflected in your eyes, and he watched your cheeks flush pink, as though the air was really getting colder around the two of you.

“Is this - ? This isn’t real,” you whispered. “Is it?”

Tristan just continued gazing at you for a long moment. Then, he murmured, “I don’t know, honestly. But if you’re lost, so am I.”

Your eyes flickered back to his, and in that moment, you knew that he was right there with you, experiencing whatever madness the Fox had introduced into both of your lives.

And just like that, it was like a curtain fell across the rest of the world.

The world beyond the curtain was a monotonous, snow-covered landscape where nothing lived. Not even dreams could survive beyond the curtain.

But here, in that quiet space of hushed and wavering intimacy between you and Tristan, dancing lights appeared between the two of you, floating from one heart to another, and the memory of hope still survived. Now, in this moment, it was as though you and Tristan made a silent pact to keep all of the world’s dreams safe between the two of you, to hold them warm in the heat between you.

Because the world outside was unbearably cold, and all the fire in the world could only be felt by touching each other.

This marked contrast between the hope that Tristan offered, and the coldness of the world beyond him, explained why your nerves were so frenzied and ablaze, to the point that taking just the tip of his cock rendered you breathless, because in your mind, you were already anticipating each and every little touch between the two of you.

Tristan felt the same way, except that he was also under the spell of the Fox’ lure, with the Fox dragging him towards you, so that Tristan leaned into you and was more adamant on wanting you and making intense, passionate love to you in order to keep that fire alive.

So, when you ran your hands through Tristan’s hair, right at the nape of his neck, and you whispered to him, “Make love to me,” Tristan willingly pushed his hips against you, taking you roughly. And when you moaned lowly in response to taking Tristan’s cock, Tristan kept going, working himself into you inch by inch with thrust after thrust, until you felt like you were burning between your thighs. But again, it wasn’t that it hurt. You were so wet; you could definitely take it. Rather, it was the incredible intensity of it all – of letting him have you like this, on his office desk, and of spreading your legs out for him like this, and gripping at his hair, and moaning for him while he gave you exactly what you wanted in hard, deep thrusts…

Tristan let out a hard, sharp breath, and then he started to build up a quicker rhythm, fucking your tight little pussy open with his cock. He shuddered as he felt a silvery tingle run down his spine, too, and he marveled at the way you were shivering underneath him, lying back on his desk. Your fingers were buried in his hair, and Tristan could feel your hand trembling a little, too, even as you managed to tug gently at his hair.

As Tristan began to push into you more and more, you started to slide back on the table, for his thighs were pushing into yours. Your legs were slowly lifted into the air as Tristan leaned over you further, pushing your hips up to pound into your pussy deeper. Your long silver hair eventually spilled out over the other edge of the desk and it swayed in shimmering waves as Tristan pushed his long, thick cock into your perfect little cunt over and over again.

You were whimpering and clutching onto him, with your head fallen back against the table and your eyes tightly shut as Tristan took you as his. You hardly noticed that you were sliding so far up the table.

But you did notice when Tristan reached down and dragged your thighs back to him. He pulled you to him until your thighs were flush along his hips, meaning that his length was sheathed all the way inside of you.

Your hands shot out to your sides as you felt his cock kiss your cervix. You accidentally knocked over a pile of papers that went flying into the air, only to fall to the ground lazily, in a fashion not unlike the snowflakes that cast a lovely haze over both you and Tristan as you made love on his office desk.

Tristan, too, had closed his eyes, and he was losing himself in the pleasurable and intense sensation of making love to you. With each thrust inside of you, his thighs brushed against yours, and your thighs were soft and warm and felt like butterfly wings brushing up gently against his skin. Besides that, your pussy was squeezing at him harder and harder at each thrust, and to be able to push his cock into you again and again and again was nothing short of heaven for him.

Unable to have enough of you, Tristan began to take you harder and harder, rolling his hips against you as he kept you pinned down on the table and your thighs pressed flush to his hips. And just to see you like this, with your legs splayed out for him, split open to let him fuck your tight cunt, and to see your little tummy tense as you cried out in time to his fucking you… Tristan growled, and his hands curled up onto fists on either side of your head as he took you quite roughly now. A sheen of sweat appeared on both your foreheads – Tristan because he was taking you so hard, and you because you were doing your best to take his rough pounding in your poor little stretched-out cunt.

He’s fucking me so hard, you whimpered in your head. And yes, perhaps Sirius had been even rougher back then, but at that point, you hadn’t had any real expectations of what sex should be like. You’d only been with Rowan and that had session of love-making on the train, what with it being your first time and being so overwhelmed by the unexpected realization that you had feelings for your best friend of six friends, had made the entire experience a bit blurry for you. But after Remus… Even when he gave you such a hard pounding that last night, he’d still let you clutch onto your pillow and cry out for him, and when he finished, he let you snuggle up to him and he’d softly pepper the top of your head with kisses. But there was none of that here. Tristan was making you feel good – very, very good – but it was incomparable to the pure, tender feeling of simply being loved…

Little one, you must let yourself heal, a soft voice purred in your head. Stop dragging yourself into the past. Isn’t it enough that you have this handsome young man doing his utmost to satisfy you now?

Look at you, he’s taking you so fervently that you can barely draw breath. And you still want to waste your soul on remembering a man who never loved you back?

You shut your eyes and as your mind returned back down to earth, you realized that you were panting very heavily.

At that moment, Tristan finally fucked you deep enough that the tip of his cock hit up hard against your cervix. You reached out and hurriedly grabbed the front of his shirt. In your mad grab to hold onto something while that intense, heady mixture of pain and pleasure jolted through you, you accidentally ripped out several of the buttons and Tristan’s shirt fell open.

You moaned and you tried very hard to grasp onto him, but you were unable to find any hold against his sculpted chest. Consequently, you were reduced to slamming your hands back down on the table. This time, you lifted yourself up into the air, arching your back for him beautifully, so that your tummy pressed up against his abs for a moment.

Tristan paused, and for a moment, he slipped his hand under that pretty arch in your back and he ran his hand up and down the small of your back to try to soothe you. He’d felt his cock hit up against your center, and he knew that that must have surprised you. That half-moan and half-whimper you’d let out when he hit up against you had been so adorable that Tristan almost felt bad for taking you so roughly.

But you seemed to enjoy it, judging from how you were reaching for him so wantingly that you’d ripped his shirt open (and didn’t even seem to notice it), and judging from how your thighs were becoming sticky with all of the sweet cum dripping from your pulsing little pussy.

So, even as Tristan tried to soothe you, he kept himself fully buried inside you. She feels so incredible. Mmm, her sweet little cunt, all wrapped around my cock, pulsing so wetly and hotly all over me, and still so incredibly tight. Uhn, fuck, she’s milking my cock so well.

Tristan’s mind was slowly turning into an incoherent blur of desire for you, and he was increasingly determined to have you here all night to satisfy him. And watching you shivering and panting for all you were worth while pinned underneath him, Tristan could tell by the softness in your cries, the snowflakes dotting your hair and eyelashes, and the silver gleam present in your eyes whenever you blinked, that the Fox inside of you was still far from satiated.

But what Tristan didn’t realize, what no one but you felt was that the Fox was using your body to satisfy her far more powerful being. Thus, although being sexed and fucked and touched like this all felt amazing, it was also way too much stimulation for you. You were burning between your thighs, and your abs were burning, too, because you were so tense and couldn’t breathe properly from being taken so roughly. Your face was quite flushed and your eyes had gone hazy as silver lights blinked out in front of your eyes. Your mouth had fallen open, too, and you were involuntarily moaning and moaning and moaning… The only time you weren’t moaning was when you were whimpering or gasping instead.

“Shush,” Tristan said softly, as he was still trying to soothe you. He finally paused and leaned down to kiss your sweet lips.

“M-Mm – Ah - Mm,” you panted desperately into his mouth, trying your utmost to catch your breath, and Tristan calmly and patiently swallowed all of your moans for you.

After a moment, when you had finally opened your pretty, dark eyes, Tristan asked you, “Are you all right?”

Hearing those simple words made your eyes fill with tears, because every time that you had made love with Remus, you had heard those words over and over again. He had been so careful with you, and God, you had loved him so… so much…

You held back your tears. Instead, you merely nodded your head. And when you felt the tears threatening to line your lashes, you quickly lifted your head and hid your face in the crook of Tristan’s neck. At the same time, you wrapped your arms and legs around him, too.

“What is it?” Tristan asked you, feeling the tears creep across your eyelashes and against his neck.

“Nothing,” you mumbled out. “I just… I want to feel like I’m yours.” Not because I really want to be yours, but because I no longer want to feel like I’m still Remus’ when our relationship is long gone now. A single tear streaked down Tristan’s chest, only to fall and hit the silver lock necklace around Tristan’s neck.

Tristan paused. Then, he whispered, “I can do that. Just hold on to me.” Tristan kept one hand on the table, to support himself. But with his other hand, he reached up to cradle your head against him. And then, still keeping you anchored underneath him, lying atop his desk, Tristan began to move his hips again, taking you again. But his movement was far gentler and more sensual this time, giving you a softer (though not exactly gentle) rhythm - not just giving you a rough fucking that made your legs go all wobbly and made your tummy burn - but giving you his cock in a way that was slow enough that Tristan could continue to hug you to him, so that you could feel safe with your face buried against the warmth of his neck.

Still, Tristan slipped his other hand down under your bum and he guided you gently into a position where you were all curled up underneath him, presenting your pussy to him that let Tristan still take you quite deeply, even if not roughly. And with your face tucked against his neck, Tristan could feel the way your breath caught at the end of each thrust. Tristan closed his eyes and he held you to him as he made love to you like this – not gently, per se, but with a slow intentionality that let his heartbeat find and match yours.

Though neither you nor Tristan noticed, you were reflected together in the darkened window, for the world was falling into nighttime outside. You were curled up underneath him and hugging him, and he was holding you against him as he pushed himself into you over and over again, until soft waves of pleasure finally began to crest in your tummy, at last beginning to soothe the intense fire that you’d been feeling ever since you’d encountered the Nine-Tailed Fox. It was clear even in the reflection that there was undeniably a light, snowflake-like energy between the two of you - not love, no, far from it, but still, a sweet and shared tenderness, nonetheless.

The Fox, of course, with her immense spiritual capacity, wasn’t even close to satisfied. Nonetheless, feeling the hurt within you bubbling up from the depths of that hollowness in your heart that the Fox had occupied, the Fox quietly let you have your way in this moment. Even though she knew that these waves of light washing over the darkness in your heart would slowly force her out, still, she waited for you – a mere human - and gave you a chance to force her out.

With Tristan making love to you like this, you finally began to relax the barest bit, and slowly, you fell back against the desk again. But still wanting to feel connected to Tristan, you brought your hands up and, pressing your warm hands against Tristan’s sharp, chiseled face, you led him down until the two of you were kissing once more. You breathed out softly and you gently wrapped your legs around his waist and squeezed your thighs against his sides.

You felt Tristan’s body finally relax too, finally soften against yours, so that he leaned into you and melted against you. His right hand buried itself deep into your silver locks now. With his other hand, he grasped your hip and held you in place as he kept making love to you. You were both struggling to catch your breath, but loathe to stop kissing each other.

But the moment was not to last, as Tristan once again felt himself needing to chase that sense of pleasure he knew was buried somewhere deep in your tight little cunt, and he began to push into you harder and harder. Moans sounded out between the two of you, and wet, sloppy sounds began to ring out as Tristan started to unashamedly use your little cunt to make himself cum – and oh, you loved it, you loved it so much, because it felt so good. For a moment, caught up in this whirlwind of strange tenderness of kisses, all mixed up with the aggressive rhythm of his cock ramming into your sweet, tight cunt over and over again, you felt your mind go completely blank. Your vision went white and it was snow – all snow – only this time, instead of feeling lonely and cold, it felt glorious and feverishly hot.

“Oh, God,” you breathed out. “Tristan, I- I’m s-so close. I’m g-going t-to cum. Ah!”

“Cum.” That was all Tristan said, but the word fell from his lips so naturally that you heard the acceptance within it.

Nodding a little, you shut your eyes tightly, and your entire body tensed from head to toe. Tristan felt your cute little abs tensing against his body, and the softer middle of your tummy pushing up gently against him, too, as your breathing escalated, as you let out soft little, “Ah, ah, ah!”s until finally – your breath hitched. Your taut, perky little nipples pressed up against Tristan’s bare chest momentarily while your hands grasped desperately at his upper arms.

There was a moment of complete, pent-up silence. Then -

“Nngh – Hah, ah!” you panted loudly, and your soft pink lips fell wide open in a loud, needy gasp, right as you came for Tristan.

Tristan moaned as he felt your cunt throbbing desperately all over his cock. “Mm – fuck – good girl,” he whispered to you adoringly. “You cum so well. Your little pussy gets so tight, doesn’t it?”

You whimpered. Only a moment later, Tristan felt your sweet cum drip down his cock.

“Maybe you are worth it, even if you are a pillow princess,” Tristan murmured.

“I am not,” you shot back, still huffing and panting.

Tristan smirked, for you’d played right into his hands. Because, as he felt your little body twitch and shiver underneath him, Tristan suddenly thought that while it was all well and good that he got to hold you like that as you came for him so sweetly, he also wanted to see you. He wanted to see your wet little pussy going up and down his cock, and he wanted to see your face better as you moaned for him.

Thus, you’d barely finished cumming when Tristan suddenly lifted you up from the desk. You blinked in surprise as Tristan smoothly traded places with you. He kept his arms around you for as long as he could to make sure that you wouldn’t slip off of him. Even when his arms finally slipped away from you as he lay back, his hands found your waist and he sat you down firmly on his thighs.

“What are you doing?” you asked him uncertainly. Your shivered as you felt your cunt still thumping along, and a glistening pool of cum still gathered between your thighs, drenching Tristan’s strong thighs, which you were sitting atop of.

“What does it look like?” Tristan asked you, with a sense of liveliness that you’d never seen before glimmering in his vivid, nearly jewel-like eyes. His eyes locked onto yours as he commanded you, “Ride me. Unless you want me to keep calling you a pillow princess.”

But you didn’t listen to him at first. In fact, you barely heard him. As his words registered only dimly in the back of your mind, you were too busy taking in the sight of Tristan Graves lying back on his desk for you, now with his shirt open to reveal his chest and the silver lock necklace lying atop his handsome chest. But it wasn’t even that he looked very handsome all of a sudden (which he did), but you were quite taken aback by how young and carefree he suddenly looked. He looked his age, for once, and not five years older, as his intense sense of duty and his unwavering focus usually made him seem.

“What? You don’t want to?” Tristan asked, mistaking your curious and studying gaze for a new version of the defiance that you had so often treated him to.

“No, um, I will,” you said, speaking softly. Inside of you, the Fox purred happily, encouraging you to go on. You put one hand on his chest and leaned forward. Then, you reached back with your other hand and guided his cock to your flushed, pink, little pussy. Holding your breath, you slowly sat back down on him. Tristan watched as your beautiful cunt swallowed up his cock again, and he groaned appreciatively in his head. Seriously, what a pretty little pussy she has. Even prettier when it’s all covered in her cum like this. I could watch her tight little hole get fucked all night…

This time, you were able to take his cock all by yourself (without his having to push his cock into your squeezing little cunt and fuck you open) because you were all warmed up and ready now, so you weren’t as stiff as you were before.

Still, you involuntarily let out a shivering, breathy gasp as you took him in because he just filled you up so very well - mind-numbingly well, even. You gave yourself a moment to adjust, slipping both your hands onto his chest and shifting your hips from side to side to coax your pussy walls to spread open to take him again.

Tristan moaned aloud when he felt you shift on top of him, with your smooth thighs slipping over his strong hips and your cunt twitching wetly all over his cock. He whispered, a bit hoarsely, “Well, then. Don’t keep me waiting.”

You nodded. With your hands gathered primly on top of his chest, you dutifully began to grind your hips into him. The motion was a soft and sensual rocking motion. Tristan breathed out in pleasure, as he felt your pussy walls gently, almost shyly, slide up and down his cock repeatedly.

“Does it… feel good?” you wondered aloud, gazing down at him.

Tristan pondered his answer for a moment. Yes, it feels damn good, he thought, but he also knew it wasn’t enough to make him cum. Still, you looked so damn cute, with your tummy rolling in little waves, your thighs pushing forward and then back rhythmically, your perky breasts bouncing just the slightest bit, your silver hair coming to fall gently in front of your face, and your cute little ears twitched every once in a while as you fucked him softly. So, Tristan let you believe, at least for a few minutes, that this was all you were going to have to do for him.

“Yes,” he murmured in reply. “Keep going. Just like that.”

“O-Okay,” you replied, in a soft mumble. You did your best, repeatedly raising your hips and then sitting back down gently on his cock.

Tristan certainly enjoyed the view of you sitting atop him like this. Your aura glowed with this subtle, silver haze, as if adorning you with little snow crystals all around your silhouette. Your aura was that of a perfect little nymph, and the way your silver hair flashed enticingly behind you as you moved your hips against him to pleasure him made Tristan breathe out a little harder than he normally would have from such a gentle rhythm. Because the sight of you was making his heart pound a little faster, and the sheer influence you – or the Fox, rather – had over him was intensifying the love-making a hundred times over.

Tristan watched you shuddering away so lightly on top of him, as you rolled your hips gently against him. You wouldn’t look at him, though, preferring to keep your head down a little, and as your head dropped lower and lower and you leaned forward on your hands more and more to move your hips more sensually, Tristan felt the tips of your long silver hair brush up against his chest and he could hear the soft little moans that kept spilling from your lips as you worked yourself against him.

Her thighs look so pretty like this, Tristan thought, as he glimpsed through the curtain of your silky silver hair how your legs were spread out across his hips and starting to strain from the effort of lifting yourself up over and over again to have him inside you.

Finally, Tristan reached down and he grasped your waist in both his hands. You started, lifting your head a little and blinking down at him.

“What?” you asked him.

But your question was immediately answered as Tristan lifted you by your waist, pushing you up just a bit higher into the air than you had been before, and then sitting you right back down on on his cock. He let you sink down gently, but then he gave you that extra little push down on him - You gasped loudly when you felt his cock stuff you full, to the point that you could feel his balls pressed up against your pussyhole. However, you’d barely let out a gasp, when Tristan was lifting you gently again, and then sitting you back down. Over and over again, he had you bouncing all over his stiff cock, with your sweet, cum-soaked little pussy making the absolute most of his cock, milking it for all you were worth, and your hips were twitching in the most adorable way, and –

“A-Ah,” you stuttered out. Your hands couldn’t even stay on his chest with how he was making you go up and down on his cock. They fumbled awkwardly and uncertainly all over his chest before finally slipping up your own thighs because Tristan kept making you bounce higher and higher. Finally, your hands reached for his, as he was still holding you tightly by the waist, and you held onto his wrists quite tightly as he guided you up and down, quicker and quicker, harder and harder…

“Uhn,” you breathed out softly. “Ah, ah, ah, T-Tristan…!”

“Mm, fuck,” Tristan groaned out. “Your little cunt’s so wet. Uh, I need to cum in this tight little pussy.”

Your eyes flashed open. You started to cock your head to the side as you thought dizzily, Cum… in me?

At that moment, however, while still bouncing you on his cock, Tristan started to thrust his hips up from the desk, to meet you in the air.

“Ah!” you cried out loudly. Stars popped out in front of your eyes. He was inside of you even deeper than when he’d been fucking you on the desk before. At least then, he had been the only one moving his hips. But now, you were both fucking each other, because he was lifting you up and pushing you back down just as he thrust up to be inside of you.

You moaned lowly as his cock hit up inside of you, hard, rough, and deep. Your hands shot out, but came pitifully short of being able to reach down to his chest. Finally, you clutched your hands to your own chest and you whimpered, shaking your head a little, as you felt his cock pushing hard against your cervix over and over again. Your little pussyhole was flushed all pink again because fuck, he was so incredibly deep inside of you, and he kept taking you and taking you. His grip on your little waist was like iron. It reminded you of a cage, which you would ordinarily hate, but still… you found you didn’t mind it so much at the moment.

Tristan felt how exhausted you were getting. You were starting to slump over on top of him, nearly begging to let you hug him or at least have something to hold onto.

Also, Tristan could feel how very tight you were getting, and he knew that you were very, very close to cumming. He thrust into you harder and harder, wanting to feel you cum for him, needing to feel your cute little cunt squeezing as tight as it could all around his stiff, throbbing cock.

He started to pound into you from below. You bit your lower lip quite hard and you shut your eyes.

It almost hurts… He’s taking me so hard. But why, then, does it also feel so satisfying? I need him to stop. Yet, I never want him to stop.

Tristan thrust again, and you whimpered. Fuck, how deep is he inside me? It feels so… so incredibly… Ah! N-Ngh…

Shivering, your hands slipped down your body all the way to your tummy and you felt for a bulge, but no, you realized, Rowan’s still the only one who can make my tummy bulge with his cock.

But still, Tristan brought forth his own level of intensity, and the Fox’s hand in making the sex feel all the more potent wasn’t helping matters.

“Ah!” you whimpered. “T-Tristan, s-so deep, I – Ah! Ah, ah, ah!”

Your eyes jolted as Tristan hit up against you so hard that for the first time, it stung a little. By this point, your hips were pushed up in the air not just because Tristan was lifting you, but your hips were being lifted with every thrust of Tristan’s hips because he was ramming into you hard enough to push you up into the air with every thrust.

You started to shiver all over. “Oh G-God,” you bleated out. “‘S too much. T-Tristan, please, please…”

“You’re about to cum,” Tristan groaned out to you. “I can feel it. Just cum for me. Just let go.”

“I c-can’t,” you whimpered.

“Why not?”

“B-Because… Nngh,” you huffed out. Suddenly, you threw your arms around yourself, hugging yourself, and you moaned loudly. “Uhn!”

Tristan’s brow furrowed. For a moment, he swore that he saw the silvery shadow of a fox’s tail from behind you. But he blinked, and it was gone.

As the tension finally started to splinter and snap within you, you suddenly arched your back and fell backwards. Your hands landed on Tristan’s thighs and your breasts were thrust into the air, and your tummy became taut and tight as you arched back like that. Your thighs were shivering badly.

Tristan moaned appreciatively, and he kept going, kept fucking that tight little hole of yours, determined to make you cum on his cock just like this.

“Uh, uh, uhn!” you moaned out. Your soft, fluffy, white fox ears were flopping softly now. As were your little feet, still with one sock on, because your feet were resting on his thighs and he was fucking you hard from below, with his thighs rising and falling.

You did your best to take Tristan, as he fucked you from below hard enough to make your breasts bounce with every thrust, and the inside of your thighs became bright red as he took you hard and fast and rough.

“Good girl,” Tristan muttered in a harsh, tense voice. “Good girl, taking me like this… Fuck, you’re a little slut, aren’t you?”

You barely managed to whisper, “N-No…” when Tristan let out an explosive growl and he rammed his cock in you as hard as he could.

“Nngh! Y-Yes! Ah!” A choked half-moan and half-whimper left your panting little mouth. Then, you let out a defeated little “uhn” as you suddenly fell forward, collapsing on top of Tristan.

Tristan immediately wrapped his arms around you, and he held you down against him, as he whispered in a ragged voice, “Can I cum in you? Your sweet little cunt’s been asking for my cum all night. Let me give you what you want. Let me cum in you.”

Flustered, you replied quickly, “U-Um, n-no, I don’t think we should do that…”

“Why not?” Tristan’s voice dripped with impatience. He needed to cum now and he could think of no better place to do it than where he was right now – buried in that tight, hot, twitching little cunt of yours. “We need release. You need release.”

“But…” you protested softly. The Fox growled angrily at you in your head, and your body thrummed with want. You jolted and gasped softly, and you shivered underneath Tristan as your little cunt throbbed hotly.

Tristan groaned. “Your little pussy wants it as much as I do,” he told you. “I can tell. I can feel your cunt shivering all over my cock. I can feel how wet you are for me. And just look at you, all flushed and panting and – Mmm…” He feverishly kissed the side of your neck. “I want you. I want to cum in you. I need to cum in you. You’re so fucking tight, and warm, and wet, and I – Uhn, fuck…” Tristan’s heady groan made you blush.

Your head spun, as you slowly took in the sight of Tristan coming undone before you.

Tristan Graves, losing control… He’s so very… Well, I don’t know how to describe it. He’s as demanding as ever, but there’s such an intense vulnerability in him when he’s like this… You paused. For a moment, you considered giving him what you wanted. Just for a second.

But then, coming to your senses, you shook your head and you pushed yourself off of Tristan, breaking his hold on you. You managed to say softly, between pants, “I can’t, I can’t let you d-do that.”

“Fine,” Tristan grunted. “I won’t until you give me permission. But you can’t hide the fact that you want it just as much as me. I can tell, little one, despite all the fuss you make.”

You blinked in surprise. Little one? Doesn’t the Fox call me that, too? Does he know something? Or is it merely a coincidence?

Tristan reached down, slipping his arm around you. He wrapped his hand around his cock and he quickly ran his hand up and down his cock. Looking back, you watched for a moment, watching how Tristan’s muscles in his arm and abs rippled as he pushed himself to cum. Watching him like that turned you on more than you cared to admit. But you’d already rejected him.

The Fox growled in your head. At least give him a satisfactory ending of some kind. Don’t you want that, too? … Little one.

You scooted a little closer to Tristan, unsure of what to do. You hesitantly slid your fingers onto his shoulder and you tapped his shoulder twice.

Tristan paused, and he looked up at you. “What is it?”

You paused, a bit confused in your own head as to what you wanted.

Tristan gave you a moment to speak, but you just stared at him, thinking through in your own head what you wanted from him – or rather, what you wanted to do to him.

Tristan was starting to run his hand back up and down his cock again, and he let out a soft pant before he murmured, “If you don’t know, then, give me your mouth.”

“Hm?” you said, not sure you were understanding him. Does he want me to kiss him?

“Let me have your mouth.”

You paused. Then, you leaned forward a little and slowly parted your lips, thinking Tristan was going to kiss you.

Instead, Tristan suddenly reached out with his other hand and he grasped the back of your neck. Without being too rough, but still being quite firm, he hastily guided your head down, almost dragging you by your neck down his body, and then he pushed his cock into your hot, wet mouth just as he came. Tristan groaned. A sharp sense of relief hit him as he emptied himself right into the back of your throat.

“Take it,” he groaned. “Take it, all of it. In that pretty little mouth of yours. Just like that. Fuck, yes.” He thrust gently into your mouth, riding out the last waves of intense pleasure as he came for you, came right into your soft, wet little mouth.

Your eyes were wide open, your own wet pussy leaking with your cum as you were suddenly leaning over Tristan, sitting up a little from your prior position where you had been sitting on your knees, as Tristan had unconsciously been pulling you towards him more and more until he finally came.

As Tristan came in your throat, his other hand, no longer wrapped around his cock, fumbled down your back and over your ass for a moment before his fingers found your wet pussy. With a squelch, he shoved two of his fingers back inside you.

“Mmpfh,” you moaned out, as you still had his cock filling up your mouth, and you were still feeling his hot, slightly salty cum filling up your little mouth. Finally, Tristan whispered harshly, “That’s enough. Now swallow it.”

You lifted your head and you started to swallow his cum. But adorable, soft stuttering sounds came out of you as you tried to swallow, for Tristan was still gently pumping his fingers in and out of your sensitive pussy. “Mm, mm – ah! Mm, mm, mmm…” That soft string of half-hums and half-startled whispers sounded so very pretty.

Tristan smirked a little when he heard those tiny little hitching sounds before his cum finally made it down your throat.

“Come here,” Tristan whispered to you.

You slowly slid to your side, so that you were still sitting up, but your knees were now folded on your side, and you slid over back over to Tristan’s head.

Tristan lifted his arm and he touched your throat gently. “I’m inside you,” he whispered. He slowly traced his hand down to your tummy. “All the way to here.”

You blinked at him curiously, for swallowing his cum like that had soothed you somehow. And now, well now, truth be told, you wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. You blinked slower and slower, until you were nearly falling asleep right then and there.

But Tristan seemed to have other plans, for he suddenly pulled you up over him again – only this time, he had positioned you to sit… right on top of his face.

“Um, what – what are you doing?” you asked nervously, quickly startling awake as you felt Tristan’s warm hands gently grasp your ass for a moment before you felt his fingers trace the curve of your ass down until he was gently spreading open your pussyhole for him.

“You asked me what you tasted like,” Tristan reminded you. “And I want to know.” Then, without any further warning, he delved his tongue into your cunt.

You gasped, and your hands flew to his hair and you gripped at his hair as Tristan ate you out roughly, some might say as fervently as if eating you out was an act of worship for. His nose was buried right up against your clit. He didn’t do that lapping motion with his tongue that Remus did and that you loved, but Tristan tongue-fucked you fast and deep, making sure to taste whatever cum was left warm and sweet in your little pussy. Once he pushed his tongue inside of you, he curled it up inside you a little, and then he shook his head a little, so that you could feel his warm tongue pushing at your cunt.

You were already so sensitive, so overstimulated… You unconsciously tried to close your legs, burying Tristan’s head between your thighs as you tugged on his hair. But Tristan reached up and held your thighs apart so that he could make you finish in his mouth. You had asked, so he was going to have his fill, and taste you to his heart’s desire. And truly, as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t deny that it still felt so good, so good, to have a man tasting you and touching you like this.

Tiredly, you came again. And when you came, an intense whimper left your mouth because yes, it felt so amazing, but you were so overstimulated.

Tristan hurriedly sat up and you slid down his front right into his lap, and Tristan grabbed your face with both hands and he kissed you hard, shoving his tongue into your mouth to make you taste yourself. Finally, when he parted from you, a thin line of cum glistened brightly from his mouth to yours before it broke.

Tristan stared at you with an incomprehensible gaze before he whispered, “There. There’s your answer.”

You sat awkwardly in his lap, not sure of what to do or say, but with a steady stream of cum dripping out of your pussy, and the taste of your own cum in your mouth, and besides that - Tristan’s cum traveling to your little tummy.

“Well,” you mumbled quietly, “um…”

Tristan finally broke, and he chuckled when he heard that uncertain sound come from your mouth.

“You know, you look as confused as you sound,” he told you. “One of your ears have given up entirely and gone to bed before you.” He reached up and gently pushed your fox ear back up.

Oh. You shivered slightly on his lap, as the feeling of ice begin lightly running down your head, all the way down your back, tingled through your body.

“Well,” Tristan commented, a bit wryly, “I was going to ask you if the Fox was satisfied yet, but judging from that shiver, she’s not.”

No, I’m not, the voice confirmed in your head.

“We’ll have to try other things to see what she likes,” Tristan said, and you couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. But for the moment, Tristan simply sat up, and he wrapped an arm around your waist so that he could set you down gently on your feet again.

“Get dressed,” Tristan told you. “I think Tina’s going to call for us any second now. In fact, I rather think we should go and see her first. It’ll make a good first impression for you.”

Tristan reached up and lightly dancing his fingers against the front of his ripped-open shirt, he murmured, “Reparo.” The shirt fixed itself immediately, almost as though an individual hand was stitching it right back up for him.

Trying to ignore the fact that your legs were quite tingly, you went around the room to fetch all of your clothing and put them back on. After you had dressed, you sat and waited for your heartbeat to calm down. You kept glancing at yourself in the window to see if what Tristan had said was true.

Sure enough, when your heartbeat was close to normal again, your ears disappeared entirely, and your blue hair came back.

“Good, you’re you again. Then let’s go.” Without further ado, Tristan opened his office door. You followed closely behind him. Tristan began to step out of his office, when he suddenly froze. He threw his arm out, immediately shielding you.

You held your breath, but -

“Cas.” Tristan’s voice broke out in a sigh of relief. “You surprised me. Why are you standing in the dark?”

Cas turned towards the two of you, and you could see that her mouth was set in a grim line.

“Tina called for you,” Cas said shortly. Then, she turned on her heel and left.

Tristan frowned, but he didn’t say anything. “Very well. Guess we missed our chance to make a good impression.”

“Yes, but we were busy,” you mumbled, a bit embarrassedly.

Tristan looked over his shoulder and back at you. He gave you a little smirk in reply to your comment. But then, his mouth smoothed out again, and his demeanor returned to its usual, businesslike manner. “Follow my lead,” Tristan commanded, lowering his arm. “And stay close.”

You did stay close, secretly clutching the end of his cloak as you followed him as best as you could on your now very obviously wobbly legs. It’d taken a minute for the after-effects of so much intense sex crammed into one evening to catch up with you. But it certainly has caught up to me, you thought to yourself rather wryly, as you followed Tristan down the dark, narrow hallways of MACUSA. So much love-making. I wonder if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. You sighed. What is happening to me? Making love with Tristan Graves? It felt good, sure, but I really have nothing in common with him. I must be going crazy. Or else, this Nine-Tailed Fox inhabiting my body is completely crazy. But how am I supposed to tell the difference? What if this is all a dream? What if I wake up tomorrow, in Remus’ arms, and I find out that none of this actually happened? What then?

Still thinking hard to yourself, you followed Tristan around a corner. With your unsteady legs, you accidentally hit your shoulder on the corner and you stumbled forward – right into Tristan’s back. Tristan quickly turned around and he helped you upright again. But when he saw the way you were immediately gripping at the front of his shirt, clutching at it as you found your feet again, he lifted an eyebrow at you.

“Truly,” he said, “why did the Fox pick you?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Just walk, Graves,” you told him.

He scoffed. You returned the favor by poking him straight in the chest.

Tristan rolled his eyes at you before he turned away and began to walk down the hallway again.

Yeah, I must’ve been completely crazy to let Tristan Graves make love to me.

As you dutifully tromped down the hallway behind Graves, while still calling him names in your head, you swore you heard the Fox snicker slyly in your head. But you couldn’t imagine why.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the Potters’ house, thousands of miles away from the Graves’ residence, James and Lily watched Remus worriedly. Remus was reporting the all-clear for his shift, as he had been patrolling Diagon Alley that evening. But his eyes, already so weary before, seemed more grey than hazel, and he never seemed to look anyone in the eyes anymore…

“Remus,” Lily said softly.

Remus stopped reciting the details of his watch, and his gaze fell morosely onto the table.

“If you… If you need to talk…” Lily began, very hesitantly.

But Remus was already gone, pushing his chair away from the table and striding out the door, and into the starless, half-moon night, where he could – where he had to - suffer alone.

James sighed deeply. Lily came over to him and nestled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. James kissed her forehead.

“Is Remus going to be all right?” Lily asked worriedly.

More than anything, James wanted to reassure her, but in truth, all he could say was, “I don’t know, Lils. I just don’t know.”

“How did it all happen, anyways?” Lily asked. “Why did they break up?”

James’ eyes tightened. He had heard about what happened from Sirius, but he wasn’t sure how to explain it all himself. Finally, he replied, “Remus decided to let her go, rather than have her find out that he was a werewolf.”

“Oh.” Lily closed her eyes. “That’s so sad. Poor Remus…”

“Yeah,” James mumbled, depressed. He squeezed Lily tightly in his arms and hid his face in her neck as he whispered, “Poor Moony.” James’ heart was aching deeply for his best friend. Remus might believe that he deserved nothing, but James felt, as you had, that Remus deserved the world.

If only he could see that, James thought to himself. If only he could have let himself love her…

Tagged User(s): @areomalfoy

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #tristan graves #tristan graves x reader #remus lupin #foxtail and wolfsbane

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