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dawnjeman · 5 years

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Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Building a Forever Home

Happy New Week, my wonderful friends! I am so glad to have you on Home Bunch today. Thank you for your visit and I hope you enjoy every minute of it! I really can’t tell you how excited I am to be featuring my friend Kristyn of @blackard_modernfarmhouse. I told her a few months ago that if I had to build a home, hers would be my inspiration. I love how airy every room feels and the layout. It’s perfect for a family with kids.

Here she explains more about her beautiful home and her style.

“Hello Friends! My name is Kristyn of @blackard_modernfarmhouse, and as I’m typing this I’m still in shock that Luciane asked me to be a part of this wonderful series. We just completed our build of a modern farmhouse in Southern Indiana, and I can’t believe how many times I referred to HomeBunch during our design process. I just hope I can pay it back by helping someone to make a decision or inspire them in someway.

If you follow me on Instagram then you know I’m very passionate about helping people through the building and design process because I know how challenging it is firsthand. I just want to inspire people to follow their gut and strive to give ideas to help make your home aesthetically pleasing but still being super functional for a young family! Another thing that will stand out is that you will probably see vintage rugs scattered throughout our home, and that’s because I own a Vintage Rug Boutique @violetvintagerugs. I love bringing that touch of old and uniqueness into people’s homes-it adds so much charm.

A little bit about us…. My husband Barry and I were high school sweethearts, endured a long distance relationship for four years, and married after we graduated college. After he attended Law School and I attended Culinary School, we moved back to our hometown and started a family. Fast forward ten years later…. we run across Studio McGee’s Windsong Project and I can still remember the moment when I looked at my husband and said “that’s our house!” We had our house for sale the next week, sold within a few days, and started planning our dream modern farmhouse. We knew we wanted the classic feel of farmhouse charm but that edginess that comes with a modern home. Most importantly we still wanted functionality for our family, while achieving the look we were aiming for. We tried to merge all three and after months of planning we came up with the design of our home. My must-haves were a light and bright feel with lots of windows so we could let the outside woods in. We also wanted an open feel, but with rooms still feeling defined.

So here we are, finally in our house, turning it into our home with our three kids, two hairless cats and a rescue dog. I hope you can gain inspiration and see our heart in this home.”

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Building a Forever Home

Our house is situated on four wooded acres in Southern Indiana. We love being tucked away here where it is quiet and peaceful, and honestly we don’t have shades on most of our windows because it is so private.

Wrap-around Porch

We knew we wanted lots of porches because we love to be outside.

Porch Columns: Boral North America.

Flooring

We chose Pennsylvania Blue stone for the flooring and tongue and groove stained Poplar to warm up our white exterior.

Porch Flooring: Pennsylvania Bluestone – similar here.

Porch Ceilings: Tongue and Groove Poplar stained English Chestnut.

Garage Doors

Garage Doors: Clopay Coachman Doors.

White Exterior

From the beginning of designing, we knew we wanted an all white house with clean lines, but we wanted it to be a mixture of materials. We decided on Celect siding, mixed with white painted brick to add texture. We wanted black windows to add that modern feel, and mixed a traditional black shingled roof with a metal roof over the porches to add that farmhouse touch.

Siding: Celect – Premium siding from Celect Cellular Composite Siding by Royal.

Brick: Custom paint to match the siding.

All Doors and Windows- Sun Windows; Aluminum Clad on Outside and wood inside.

Front Door Paint Color

Black Windows and Doors Paint Color: Sherwin Williams SW 6961 Black Magic.

Exterior Sconces

We opted for gas lanterns instead of traditional lighting because we loved that rustic and romantic look that the gas lanterns provided. At nighttime, it looks magical- even from inside you can see the twinkling glow.

Gas Lights: Gas Light Pro.

Foyer

Our entry opens up into our piano room, which we also call the green couch room. Playing the piano is a passion of mine, so I knew I wanted a room dedicated to it.

Staircase

Upon walking into our home, you are greeted with a traditional staircase with black glossy railing and shiplap walls.

I wanted a staircase that I could drape garland from each year!

Garland: Pier one – similar here.

Piano Room

We did the grid wall to add texture and create a focal point, and added a bistro modern sconce for hints of brass and black.

Coffee Table: CB2

Artwork: Juniper Print Shop.

Couch

My favorite color is green and the second I saw this couch I knew I had to have it!

Couch: CB2.

Large Christmas Wreath: Target.

Christmas Pillows: Target.

Piano Room Chandelier

Chandelier: Restoration Hardware Bistro Globe Chandelier – similar here & here.

Rug & Piano

Piano Room Rug: CB2.

Piano: Steinway and sons Boston piano.

Living Room

Our goal in our living room was to create a light and bright atmosphere that still felt warm and cozy. Instead of doing an originally designed two story Great Room, we changed it to a vaulted 15.5 ft ceiling covered in shiplap. We wanted the black chandelier to be a focal point, as well as the giant picture window.

Chandelier: Restoration Hardware 63″ Camino Chandelier – similar here & here.

Textures

It’s really important for me to bring in lots of textures to create a cozy space. We added hickory shelves in the built ins, caramel leather couch, grey treed chairs, a black and brass ottoman, chrome hardware, striped linen pillows. I’m a big fan of mixing metals as well as materials!

Couch: Restoration Hardware – similar here, here & here (chunky look).

Leather Ottoman: McGee and Co.

Rug: Wayfair.

Media Unit

The house originally was framed with a fireplace in the living room. I walked in the day it was framed, and it just didn’t feel right. I felt like it needed more windows. The woods behind us are so beautiful I knew I wanted to see more of them! So we took the risk and moved the fireplace outside on the back porch and put a giant picture window in there. Everyday I’m so thankful I followed my gut.

Chairs: Article – similar here. Other Beautiful Chairs: here, here, here, here & here.

Storage

We definitely like to watch TV (we are a big WWE family) so we knew we wanted a big entertainment center. I wanted shelves for the pretty stuff, but also storage for tv equipment and kid toys.

Ivory Sofa

Couch: Article – similar here & here.

Checkered navy/white throw: Schoolhouse Electric.

Layout

The living room opens to the dining room and kitchen.

Dining Room

I knew I definitely wanted open concept with our home and I love that the dining table is in the middle of the kitchen and living room. Each space feels defined yet open.

Dining Chairs

Chairs – Serena and Lily.

Dining Table & Chandelier

Dining Table – Pier One, no longer available – similar here & here.

Chandelier: Visual Comfort – similar here.

Window

The windows open up right to the woods. It makes our entire kitchen and living room area full of natural light.

Hardwood Flooring

Wood flooring: Mohawk Engineered Hickory, Sawbridge – unfortunately they are discontinued – similar here.

Naturally Beautiful

If you follow me on Instagram, then you know this area gets so much natural light and it is my absolute favorite thing about our home!

Kitchen

The kitchen was the most important place to me, because before I owned my rug shop I was a chef and caterer. I love to cook, and not only that- I knew this is where we would spend the most time as family. They say the kitchen is the heart of the home, and man, it is ours! This is my favorite space in our whole home! We do homework at this island, eat dinner here, work on art projects, host holidays. It is our most used space!

Island Pendants: Rejuvenation.

Island Dimensions: 10 ft x 3’7”.

Paint Color

Wall color, trim, cabinets: Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Cabinetry

Cabinets: Custom Inset Shaker Cabinetry by Fehrenbacher Cabinets.

Stove: Wolf.

Pot filler: Delta.

Counterstools

Bar stools: West Elm.

Practicality

I wanted our kitchen to be a really functional space. Functional storage was a must. I added more drawers instead of door cabinets because I feel they are easier to get to and things don’t get lost in the back of a cabinet.

Smart Thinking!

My favorite thing about my kitchen is our pull-out sheet pan drawer. I was so tired of jamming sheet trays and large cutting boards into a tiny cabinet.

Rug: Violet Vintage Rugs.

Knives

I added a knife block drawer to help keep my counter clutter free!

Cabinetry: Custom – Similar Option: Here & Here.

Utensils

We added utensil dividers so all the utensils don’t get tangled. It helps keep things more organized.

Cabinetry: Custom – Similar Option: Here.

Kitchen Windows

The kitchen windows were a must have. I wanted to be able to see my kids in the backyard, watch the deer each morning, and let as much light in as possible. We wanted the outside to be pulled into our home as much as possible.

Kitchen Sink

Kitchen sink is by Kohler .

We also added a servo drive unit to our trash can so all you have to do is barely nudge it with your knee, hip, etc and it pops open. Great when your hands are dirty or full when you’re cooking and cleaning.

Kitchen Faucet

Kitchen Faucet: Kohler.

Backsplash

I wanted our space to feel light and bright so we chose white cabinets, and knew the windows would pop. I decided to tile the whole wall to create a focal point!

Backsplash: Discount Glass Tile Store – Subway tile backsplash- 3×6 matte white (similar). Grout: French Grey.

Kitchen Shelves

Floating shelves: Hickory custom stained/built to match floors. – similar here & here.

Sconce above floating shelves: Schoolhouse Princeton Long Sconce.

Kitchen Hardware

Hardware: Atlas, Sutton Place Pull & Atlas, Browning Knob.

Countertop

Countertops: Aureastone Quartz, Lincoln.

Paneled Refrigerator

We chose to hide our fridge and freezer with a panel, making everything look like cabinetry.

Fridge/Freezer: Sub-Zero, 36 in.

Mudroom

This may be our most functional space in our home. We combined a mudroom with pantry to create almost an extension of our kitchen.

Rugs: www.violetvintagerugs.com

Print: Schoolhouse.

Lockers

The lockers were a must have with kids, and especially adding doors to them.

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Baskets above cubbies: Target (no longer available) – similar here & here.

Hardware: Atlas, Sutton Place Pull & Atlas, Drawer cup pulls.

Kids Stuff

The insides are always messy, but at least with the doors that space stays looking clutter free. We added drawers on the bottoms for shoes, art supplies, and knick knacks. I’m all about hiding my mess. We also added an outlet in each locker for electronic charging!

Similar Hooks: Here.

Pantry

The shelves with all of the food are hidden on the other side of the wall so unless you physically walk into the pantry you can’t see all of the food mess.

We placed a countertop in here to keep our kitchen counters from being cluttered with appliances, like a toaster and mixer. We also added big drawers underneath for easy snack access for the kids.

Our coffeemaker is in the pantry, and one thing we did was add a water line to the coffee maker so we never have to fill it with water.

Food storage bins: Target.

Coffee Maker: Keurig B150P.

Countertop: Aureastone, Lincoln .

Shelves

Because we opted to eliminate the door to the pantry, I wanted functional open shelving since you could see into the pantry from the kitchen. I wanted to be able to display pretty dishes and bowls, while still having easy access to them.

Study

The one room in our house that isn’t white, is my husband’s office. I can still remember when he told me he wanted it black, and I thought he was crazy. Now I’m glad I listened to him. The walls are shiplapped in Sherwin Williams Black Magic.

Rug: Violet Vintage Rugs.

Door Hardware – Emtek Hardware.

Cabinetry

We chose brass fixtures to accent the black. We put the printer on a rollout to hide it inside the cabinet.

Black & Brass

We chose brass fixtures to accent the black. We put the printer on a rollout to hide it inside the cabinet.

Hardware: Restoration Hardware, Spritz pull brass – similar here.

Library Lights

Library lights: Restoration Hardware – similar here, here & here.

Laundry Room

Having a large laundry room was a must-have for us. I feel like I live in here (as most moms can relate), so I wanted it to be bright and colorful. I chose a cheery green wallpaper, and love that I have a desk where I can do work while I’m working on laundry.

I wanted laundry basket cubbies where I can store clean laundry to be put away and I also needed a utility sink where I can bathe our hairless cats and use for laundry.

Laundry Wallpaper: Discontinued – Other Beautiful Wallpaper: here, here & here.

Laundry Chair: Target.

Flooring: Hex Matte White Tile – similar.

Lighting

Laundry Lights: Schoolhouse.

Subway tile: Same as kitchen – Subway tile backsplash- 3×6 matte white (similar).

Grout color: Delorean grey.

Wall

We also placed our iWallDock on this wall. We use it to control all of the music in our home and for security cameras.

Water Fountain

We have a water fountain right outside the door, which is the garage entryway as well. The kids run in, grab a drink, and head right back outside to play! When they are thirsty- I just point ha! We really went for functionality in our home!

Drinking Fountain: Kohler.

Step Stool: Here.

Mirror: Rejuvenation.

Sconce: Visual Comfort.

Powder Room

I wanted this to be a fun space since I knew everyone would see it. I added the fun patterned cement tile for some interested, added board and batten to the walls, and a basket wall for some warmth.

Again, I’m always switching out a vintage rug in here.

Sink

The double Kohler Brockway sink is great for hand-washing before dinner, especially because it has two faucets!

Sink: Kohler.

Faucets: Kohler.

Soap Dish: Kohler.

Flooring

Flooring: Cement Tile shop – similar here.

Baskets: Etsy.

Boys Bathroom

I went for a industrial/modern look in the boys bathroom, using contrasting black tile in the shower, industrial sconces, and black hardware.

I added warmth with a vintage rug and white oak mirrors.

Mirrors: Rejuvenation.

Wash Your Hands Sign: Target.

Vanity Countertop

Countertop: Quartz, Aureastone Lincoln.

Faucets: Rohl.

Hardware: Knobs & Pulls.

Lights: Schoolhouse Electric.

Vanity Lighting

My favorite feature about the vanity is the toe kick lighting that is motion activated. Great for kids in the night!

Toe Kick lighting: Kichler.

Rug: Violet Vintage Rugs.

Shower Tile

Shower floor tile: Discount Glass Tile Store, Black matte hex 1 inch – similar here.

Floor Tile: White 2 inch hexagon tile – similar here.

Shower Faucet: Kohler.

Bull Picture: Wayfair.

Daughter’s Bedroom

This wallpaper is the star of this room. I wanted her room to have a cheerful and whimsical vibe.

Wall Color: BM Chantilly Lace.

Wallpaper: Hygge and West, Daydream, Blush.

Swan Blanket: Homegoods – Other Beautiful Kids Bedding: Here.

Rug: Violet Vintage Rugs.

Chandelier: Pottery Barn Kids.

Bed

Bed: Crate and Barrel Kids – similar here.

Duvet: West Elm.

Striped Pillows: Pottery Barn.

Other Pillows: Target.

Dollhouse: Hearth and hand Magnolia.

Daughter’s Bathroom

My daughter’s bathroom was the only room with a colored vanity. I loved this retro blue and it inspired me to go with a retro vibe in her bathroom. Cabinet paint color is Benjamin Moore Woodlawn Blue.

Flooring: White Penny Tile.

Grout Color: Dark Grey.

Mirror: Rejuvenation.

Sconce: Schoolhouse Electric.

Art: Lynne Millar.

Faucet: Kohler.

Cabinet Hardware

Cabinet Hardware: Pulls & Knobs.

Master Bedroom

We wanted our bedroom to feel calm and serene. We also don’t have shades on our windows since we live in the woods. The sunlight is our alarm clock.

Throw: Mcgee and Co.

Bed & Bedding

I love to add textures on my bed as well- cotton, linen, velvet- give me it all!

Bed: From local furniture company – similar here, here & here.

Duvet Cover: Arhaus.

Side table: Wayfair.

Lamp: Pier One.

Rug: Loloi.

Ceiling

The ceiling was intended to mimic a barn ceiling to help bring in that farmhouse feel.

Lighting: Wayfair.

Master Bathroom

I always have a vintage rug in here to add character and I wanted something unique for our flooring.

We chose wall mounted faucets for the modern look and easy clean up!

Vanity lights: Schoolhouse Electric.

Cabinets: Custom inset cabinets by Fehrenbacher Cabinets in Chantilly Lace by Benjamin Moore.

Mirrors: Rejuvenation.

Sinks: Kohler.

Faucet: Kohler.

Cabinet Hardware

I wanted to mix metals in here so I did black metal hardware and lighting, but kept our fixtures chrome.

We put an outlet in the drawer for the hairdryer, etc.

Countertops: Aureastone, Lincoln.

Vanity Hardware: Knobs & Pulls.

Towel Rings: Delta.

Towels: Mcgee and Co.

Floor Tile

Tile: Cle Tile, Cross Encaustic Cement Tile.

Shower Wall Tile

Wall Tile: Discount Glass Tile Store – Subway tile backsplash- 3×6 matte white.

Shower floor tile: Black matte hex 1 inch – similar here.

Tile Wainscoting

The master bathroom also features a subway tile wainscoting.

Light above tub: Schoolhouse Electric.

Tub

We knew we wanted a clawfoot tub to add that vintage feel.

Bathtub: Kohler.

Tub faucet: Kohler (discontinued) – similar here.

Vintage Runner

Vintage runner is from Kristy’s shop; Violet Vintage Rugs.

Artwork

Prints: Juniper Print Shop – Frames: Cb2.

Playroom

During framing we had a weird wall in the playroom area, and it just had the roofline of a dollhouse in my imagination. It inspired us to build this little playhouse in our playroom for our daughter. I love decorating it for all of the seasons.

Outdoor Fireplace

We originally had planned to put a fireplace inside our living room, but I really wanted to let more natural light into our living room. So, we ended up moving our fireplace to our back porch and replacing it with a giant picture window. Now we love having all of the natural light in our living room, and the fireplace outside has been an amazing addition.

Cozy

With the electric ceiling heaters, plus the fireplace we can use our porch year round.

Home-Sweet-Home

I love being surrounded by all of the trees.. watching the trees bloom, watching the leaves change, and watching the snow fall.

Making Memories

Our long winding driveway is something I always envisioned my home having. I love that my kids can go exploring in the woods, our dog can roam our property, and I can watch the deer each morning through the kitchen windows.

Many thanks to the super-talented Kristyn for sharing all of the details above!

Make sure to follow Kristyn on Instagram to see more of her beautiful home and visit her vintage rug shop!

Have a Blessed week, my friends!!!

Best Sales of the Month:

Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

Serena & Lily: Free Shipping on Everything with code: NEWGOALS

Wayfair: Massive Rug Sale! Up to 75% OFF!

Joss & Main: Up to 80% Off on Clearance

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Anthropologie: Extra 50% OFF Sale Items!

Posts of the Week:

Interior Design Ideas: Home Renovation.

2019 New Year Home Tour.

Belgian-style Modern Farmhouse.

Stone Cottage-style Home Design.

Custom Craftsman-style Family Home.

Newport Island Beach House.

New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram.

Before & After Home Renovation.

California Duplex Home Design.

Stone Lake House.

Australian Beach House.

Family-friendly Home Design.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Canada.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram.

Georgian-Style Manor with Traditional Interiors.

Transitional Home Design.

Interior Design Ideas.

Grey Kitchen Paint Colors.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: California Beach House.

Follow me on Instagram: @HomeBunch

You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch

See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives.

“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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late-to-the-fandom · 11 months

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63%

63%. Has your character ever experienced deja vu? Do you happen to know why

Yes, and yes I do! Renathal spends the majority of the below chapter experiencing a flavour of déjà vu, although since Why is basically the story’s central mystery, I’ll leave it a “mystery” for now ☺️

Thanks for the ask!

#tag games #renathal x maw walker

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late-to-the-fandom · 11 months

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61%!

61%. Describe a scenario that has impacted your character and caused them extreme happiness

Well, gosh, I like to think I’ve devoted the last year of my life to describing these scenarios 😂 here’s my personal favourite one, where I take Renathal through two scenarios that cause both extreme distress and extreme happiness (in that order).

Thank you for the ask!

#tag games #renathal x maw walker

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late-to-the-fandom · 11 months

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19%. How does your character's living space reflect their personality?

Oh I like this one! So, I think Darkwall Tower expresses Renathal’s personality well - precisely organised; tastefully, if slightly pretentiously, decorated; and secretly sentimental. See below story for more - I do love getting to play around in Darkwall in this story ☺️

#tag games #renathal x maw walker

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late-to-the-fandom · 11 months

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My battery percentage asking the important questions:

27%. Does your character ever get violent when feeling any certain emotions?

27 - Does your character ever get violent when feeling any certain emotions

Thank you! Renathal is typically well controlled, but can definitely be goaded into violent rage! See here for example:

#tag games #renathal x maw walker

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late-to-the-fandom · 11 months

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My battery percentage oc ask game!! 71% (I just checked lol)

71 - What are your character's three clearest memories

Why, clear memories of the Maw Walkers? I wrote a whole story on the Maw Walker’s clearest memories, both good and bad (mostly bad) here!

Thank you!

#tag games #renathal x maw walker

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

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In Love & War (3/3)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been so kind as to comment on this story and even kinder in their patience for how long it took to complete. I’ve never struggled so much to write anything, and I might still be staring at an unfinished draft if it weren’t for the help of the most incredible, @navirosera, who listened patiently to my ranting, raving, and complaining and provided the spark to help me finish. I really can’t thank you enough.

I have posted the remaining part of the chapter at the bottom so it’s in its proper place. If you’ve already read the first part of this, just keep scrolling till it looks new.

Part 3: Quatervois

You hold your left hand up against the glass of the window. The setting sun catches the diamond of your ring, creating lines of rainbow light. It gives the impression your whole hand is sparkling. You smile. It's only a modest sized diamond set against a pale gold band. But it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Something out there I should be jealous of?"

Arms encircle your waist. A warm body presses against you from behind.

"'Out there'"?" you echo playfully. "Oh, I suppose there is a lovely ocean view. I hadn't noticed."

Felix rests his chin on your shoulder to see what's caught your attention.

"You know, I really ought to get you another one. Something better. With a diamond you can actually see."

You spin around in Felix's arms.

"Don't you dare. I love it. It's perfect."

Felix glances at your hand now resting against his chest. He frowns at the ring slightly.

"Hardly perfect. It's ridiculously small. It barely counts as an engagement ring."

You wrinkle your nose at him. "Then why did you pick it in the first place?"

A hot blush creeps up Felix's cheeks, a sight you find intensely amusing.

"There's a face I don't see often,” you laugh softly.

A change comes over Felix. His eyes widen, and he leans away from you, dropping his arms. He peers into your face intently as if he's seen something he doesn't like. You’re worried you must have offended him.

"I wasn't poking fun," you assure him soothingly. You close the distance he’s created between you, reaching up to take his still heated cheek in your palm. "I like it. Makes you look younger."

Felix's eyes soften. "Do I look old then?"

"Far too old for me." You shake your head in mock concern. "What my friends will say when they discover I've eloped with my prefect, I can't imagine." Your face suddenly clouds. "Why did we elope? Was there a reason? I mean, it was lovely little chapel, but it would have been nice to have my friends there. And Mrs Weasley will be so disappointed when she finds out.”

Felix swallows. “The war, remember?” He hides his face in the crook of your neck. “Everyone choosing sides. We didn't want them to be uncomfortable."

"Oh. Right."

On some level you're aware this doesn't make sense. But the vibrations against your throat send lightning through your body. The answer no longer seems important. You run your hands through Felix's hair as he places hot, slow kisses up your neck, under your chin. When he reaches your lips he murmurs against them: "Let me buy you a new ring. Please."

You shake your head. Your nose nuzzles his with each small movement. "No. This is the one I want."

You’re at a loss for how this sweet statement could cause your new husband to look so unhappy.

"Not again! That's the second time this week!"

The sudden exclamation startles you from your reverie. You lift your head from its resting place against your hand. You’re in the Burrow's kitchen with an irate Mrs Weasley, not a villa in Nice with Felix. The sun setting outside the window had brought the memory back.

Mrs Weasley wads the offensive letter up and throws it into the fire.

"I mean really, and at the last minute, too. So inconsiderate. I suppose that sort of thing is acceptable in France, but you'd think manners would be the same everywhere, wouldn't you? Pass me that cutting board, dear."

You rise from your chair and reach up to pull the cutting board from a high shelf. You could easily retrieve it with magic, but you need the distraction. It's precisely the reason you've moved to the Burrow. Mrs Weasley's strict regimen of conversation and domestic work keeps your mind from wandering. Most of the time.

You offer Mrs Weasley the cutting board, then lean against the counter. You force yourself to pay attention to her diatribe.

“I'm sure it's a phase, but I do hope it will pass soon. Once he grows out of that hair and that earring," Mrs Weasley shudders. "And that's really the most telling, isn't it? Any woman who likes that sort of thing can’t possibly be any good. You don't approve of it, surely?"

You look up from where your gaze has fallen to your hand and shake your head vigorously.

Her opinions safely confirmed, Mrs Weasley returns to the cutting board. She directs her wand to a veritable army of knives that begin dicing vegetables with gusto. "Like I say, very telling. Bill never used to be like this. He would never have dreamed of sending an owl last minute saying he wouldn't be at dinner. I mean really! What if we'd had something important to discuss? What if-"

You stare at the ring on your finger. It's the same one from your memory: a single, small diamond, a band of pale gold. Humble, but an auror's salary isn’t high. And this is definitely the ring Talbott had given you.

You relish the ability to call this memory to mind. You, dusting the curtains in your cheery flat when Talbott suddenly appears behind you. He presses a small blue box wordlessly into your hands. Your heart stops when you open it.

Talbott isn't one for material gifts. You never ask them of him. You had intended, once you were married, to find a simple wedding band to indicate your new status. For Talbott to think of it himself means more than you can say in words. Instead, you spend a long, fervid night showing him.

You close your eyes, savouring the echoes of bliss reverberating through your body. Until a question wheedles its way in like a leech.

Why would Felix have pretended the ring was his? Even for a second? It didn't fit Felix's extravagant style at all. He hadn't been happy with it, that much is clear from your newly remembered honeymoon scene. So why didn't he remove it after obliviating you? Replace it with another?

The inconsistency bothers you. Against your better judgment, you tentatively prod your brain for an explanation. But while your memories from before the fateful spell all seem to be intact, the days immediately after remain fuzzy.

"...talking about visiting her family, and it's much too soon for that. Imagine going all the way to France for a girl he's really only known a short time. I didn't meet Arthur's family until..."

You shake your head firmly, clearing it of unwanted thoughts. You'll never understand what Felix did. You're not supposed to be thinking about him, anyway. You straighten, and interrupt Mrs Weasley mid-sentence.

"Can I do something to help, Mrs Weasley?"

"Oh," Mrs Weasley stops abruptly. "Well, I really only have the potatoes left to mash, and that’s just -"

"I'll do it.”

You walk to the sink before Mrs Weasley can argue. A pot of peeled and boiled potatoes waits expectantly. You tap the masher with your wand and set it to work with vigour. You can feel Mrs Weasley's eyes on you, but you keeps yours fixed to the sink.

After a moment, Mrs Weasley returns to her knives, now scraping the diced vegetables into a bowl. "You know, I was thinking," she says in an airy, would-be-casual voice that instantly puts you on your guard. "I'd planned for four, and it would be a shame to let all this extra food go to waste. Why not invite your young man to dinner?"

The masher spins wildly in the pot, spilling potatoes over the side before you can correct it. Mrs Weasley continues as though she hasn’t noticed.

"It's been some time since you last saw him. And goodness knows, he looks like he could use a solid meal. What he must be eating without anyone to take care of him..."

You remember the assorted debris of take-away strewn about your old flat's kitchen table. A short stab of pain punctures your lungs. Imagining Talbott alone in the ruins of the home you once shared robs you of air.

"Y/N, the masher!"

"What?"

You look up to find the masher dancing across the counter, trailing potato in its wake. You break the enchantment and return it to the pot, then reach for a dish towel. You try to mop up the soggy potato droppings, but your vision is blurred by tears.

The dish towel is plucked gently from your fingers. You look up through wet eyes to find Mrs Weasley peering at you in concern.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to press. I understand if you need more time to-"

"It's not that, Mrs Weasley," you say, through sniffs. "I just...I... I miss him. I miss everything."

"You know, dear," Mrs Weasley says delicately, "Arthur and I have had our fair share of rows. Why, I remember one in our seventh year, nearly ended us. I couldn't eat a bite for weeks. But, there's never a problem two people can't solve if they're just willing to talk through it."

You sigh heavily, wiping your hand across your eyes. You let yourself sink into a kitchen chair.

"Talbott doesn't talk, Mrs Weasley. I'm the one who always solves these sorts of problems. I've never minded, but this time...this time I just don't know how."

Mrs Weasley flicks her wand at the masher. It resumes its duties at a more stately pace, and she draws the chair next to yours.

"Talbott is a good man, dear. A bit strange, and - well, I do admit, I'd rather hoped you and Charlie would...well...that doesn't matter now - what I mean to say is Talbott loves you. I'm sure he doesn't expect everything to be just the way it was all at once. But you have to start somewhere or it'll never come right."

You worry your lip between your teeth. You don’t know what Talbott thinks of you right now, and you’re afraid to find out. But Mrs Weasley's arguments chip away at your fear. You do want to see him again. And Talbott is unlikely to come find you himself.

"I suppose I might...send him an owl."

Mrs Weasley's smile is so bright it hurts to look at it.

"Really? Oh, that's wonderful! I'm so thrilled. Here, let me do it. You go get dressed!"

"What?"

"Well, you can't let him see you in that!"

You look down at your clothes: an old house dress of Mrs Weasley's and a jumper of Charlie's, both extremely baggy.

"Mrs Weasley, Talbott's seen me in just about everything."

"Yes, well, a little bit of effort never hurt. In fact, why don't I pop down to Diagon Alley before the shops close and pick up some of those delightful little cakes he liked so much last Christmas. I'll send the owl on the way. Now go!"

It's useless to argue with Mrs Weasley when she's in this state. You climb the stairs, listening to her chatter to herself as she pulls on a travelling shawl. For the first time in days, you manage a weak smile.

You spend a few minutes prodding your wand across an old summer dress from Mrs Weasley's school days. You've never excelled at the sort of charms Andre used to transform clothes into something magical, but you do your best. The end result, if not exactly fashionable, doesn't look as though two of you might fit in it. You run a brush through the tangled knots in your hair, and, after a minute's debate, decide in favour of lipstick.

You feel distinctly foolish.

It makes no sense to be dressing yourself up to meet the man you've lived with since you left school. Even less so to be this self-conscious about it. But Mrs Weasley's excitement has apparently infected you. Your stomach is full of swarming butterflies. It reminds you of your very first date with Talbott.

You cross to the looking-glass and inspect yourself critically. While you may feel like a teenager again, your reflection shows quite a bit more wear. Your face is pinched and wan, like someone recovering from a long illness. You lean in closer, practicing a smile. Something moves in the corner of the glass.

You whirl around, fumbling for your wand. The room is empty. It must have a been a trick of the light. Instinct puts you on your guard, however, and you inspect the room again, more slowly. As your eyes pass the window, you catch a glimpse of something moving in the yard. You blink, and look again, unwilling to believe your eyes.

Felix is picking his way across the long grass, surveying the Burrow with a mixture of distaste and apprehension.

Your brain stalls. Thoughts peter out as soon as they begin. You don't know what to do, what to think, what to feel.

Felix glances up. You know he can see your silhouette in the window. It's in the way his rich brown eyes suddenly catch fire.

"Y/N, I know you're there," Felix calls softly. "I just want to talk to you. Please."

A battle begins inside you. Part of you wants to hurl a curse out the window at Felix. Part of you wants to hide under the bed. But neither of these are in charge of your feet. You're walking out of the room and down the stairs before your brain catches up to what you're doing. It stops you just before you reach the kitchen door. You can't really be considering this. Felix has proven exactly what he's capable of. Walking out there to him is like walking into a snake pit.

Only this time, you know. You're prepared. You're not the girl of a year ago, naively believing she could be just friends with a Rosier. Nor are you his thrall. Your head is as clear as it's ever been. And you have things you want to say. You clench your hand firmly around your wand, and step outside.

You keep your eyes on your feet as you walk. Just taking even steps requires considerable effort. You stop when you see Felix's shoes. It's several seconds before you're able to raise your gaze to his, and then it takes all your self-control to keep your jaw from dropping.

You've never seen Felix this worse for wear. His robes are so rumpled he might have slept in them. His hair is untidy, his nails unclean. There are circles under his eyes as dark as bruises.

Pity, and something else you refuse to name, well up inside your throat. The desire to put your arms around him, to stroke his cheek or straighten his hair, anything to fix his face into something less pained, is overwhelming. You hate yourself for it. You quickly recite every terrible thing Felix has done in your head. But you've never been able to stay angry with Felix when he looks at you like that.

"Y/N." Felix says your name like a prayer. You will your heart not to break. You keep your voice as expressionless as possible.

"What do you want?"

"I - I just want to talk," Felix repeats. "To ex-explain." His impassive mask slips as he stutters. For some reason, this display of nerves inspires you with confidence.

"I already heard your explanations. What else could you possibly have to say?"

Felix rubs his palms against his trousers.

'That wasn't - I mean - I didn't get to...to say everything I needed to. It was all so..." You don't think you've ever seen Felix so lost for words. You grip your wand tighter to stop your hand reaching for him. "I didn't get to explain myself clearly. Explain what happened. Why I...I did what I did."

At these words, your desire erupts into rage. It's almost a relief to finally feel it. You let it boil your blood, vibrate in your limbs. You clench your fist around your wand so tight your knuckles turn white. As if the immensity of Felix's crimes could be summed up in a few simple words.

"You mean, why you obliviated me? Why you erased Talbott from my memories and ruined both our lives?" The bitterness that's festered inside you for weeks spews forth like lava. "You lied to me, Felix! You let me feel like I was going mad! You forced me to marry you, and then kept me locked in your house like a-"

"But I didn't!" Felix's cry is anguished. It only fuels your fury.

"How...dare you! How can you really think I'm that stupid? That I would fall for that? I remember everything Felix! I heard you admit it, and I know I'm not insane. Denying what you've done won't change anything, it just makes you look pathetic.”

Felix flinches as if your word were a curse.

"I'm not denying what I did. I did...obliviate you. And I did lie. But...I didn't force you to marry me."

"Just because you didn't hold a wand to my head doesn't mean I wasn't forced. You can't get out of this on semantics."

"I'm not trying to get out of anything," Felix says quickly. He looks up, staring at a point just near your ear. "Look, I made you forget him...Talbott. I thought...without him to worry about or pressuring you to stay...I could convince you to run. Go visit your relatives in America. But I-I don't know...maybe the spell went wrong. I've never used a memory charm before. But you seemed to forget everything. You weren't sure who you were, or where you were. I was terrified."

Felix takes a step closer. You know you should stop him, but you're hooked to his words. Your anger flounders as you struggle to find this memory, to prove Felix is lying yet again. But all you remember is Felix's wand pointed at you...then nothing.

"I didn't know what to do," Felix continues. "I couldn't just leave you there, or - or send you to another country while you didn't even know your own name. So I...I took you home. With me. I thought...maybe I could figure out a way to undo it. Or something. I don't know, I never had to find out. When you woke the next morning, you were better. Or at least, you knew who you were and who I was. But...I suppose the spell had worked because you didn't remember...Talbott." Felix's fingers twist at his sides. "But then you - you saw the ring and you asked if... we were...engaged."

You look down at the diamond ring on your hand. Something in the way it catches the light reminds you of a moment in the Rosier kitchen: leaning against the butcher's table, your head pounding, a fog across your senses; Felix standing in front of you, as nervous as he is now. You hear your voice ask a question, and you hear Felix's response...

"I didn't know what to say! I didn't know how to explain the ring without mentioning Talbott, and I didn't know what else you remembered or-or how you felt about me. I just...I wanted you. I've always wanted you, so I...I said-"

" 'Only if you want to be'."

Felix's eyes meet yours. There's a soft, eager light in them, as if the memory is something he cherishes.

"You...remember that?"

'I didn't until just now."

You stare at the Felix in front of you, but your mind is faraway. Back in the kitchen, watching Felix wait for your answer. You stood there, your aching mind picking through its tangled memories, sorting through all your moments with Felix. The way he'd always been there for you at school. The way his seriousness made you laugh, and his little touches made you shiver. The decision was as easy as breathing.

"I said, yes," you whisper into the air.

Felix says nothing. He only nods.

The emotions writhing within you evaporate. Anger, desire, everything you've felt toward Felix is suddenly missing. Wind blows, and it sounds like a foreign language. The world around you is as unfamiliar and threatening as a different planet. You don't know how to exist in it. You can only stand, frozen and unsure.

After a minute of silence, Felix continues.

"I know I shouldn't have let you believe it, or - or let it go as far as I did. I should have sent you to America, like I meant to. But... I couldn't help it. I love you. I always have." Felix's hand jerks oddly, as if he meant to take yours before thinking better of it."I told myself it was better this way. That you were safer with me. But...you were right. I did it for myself, and I - I'm sorry. I know it doesn't fix anything, but I am. And, I want...to make it up to you."

This time, Felix lets his hand reach for yours. You make no move to stop him. He strokes your limp fingers delicately, as if they were made of glass.

"I made a mistake, and I - I hate what it's done to you. But I love you, Y/N. You can't pretend I don't. And if you'll let me, I'll spend my life making it up to you."

You can only stare. Your brain has forgotten how to form words. Felix is just beginning to look concerned, when the door to the Burrow's kitchen opens with a bang. The sound breaks your spell, and you rip your hand away.

"Get - off - my - land!"

Mr Weasley marches across the grass toward you, Mrs Weasley and Talbott in his wake. Mr Weasley's wand is stretched out in front of him, but Talbott gets there first. He sends a quick, silent hex flying across the yard. Felix has no time to block it. He throws himself to the ground to avoid the red light, then rolls into a crouch, wand at the ready.

"Come inside, Y/N, quickly!" Mrs Weasley grabs your arm and yanks you away. You let her drag you back toward the Burrow. Your legs are too weak to walk on their own. You watch Talbott hurl spell after spell at Felix, who blocks them as he beats a hasty retreat. He reaches the edge of the Weasley property, and with a last glance in your direction, disapparates.

"Sit here, dear. Let me make a cup of tea." Mrs Weasley pushes you into a chair. "I should never have left you alone, I can't believe I-"

Her prattle is interrupted by the slam of the kitchen door. Talbott tumbles inside, breathing heavily, still clutching his wand. His head swivels until he finds you.

"Why was he here?"

It's the first time in weeks you've stared into Talbott's yellow-gold eyes. They're flashing like you've never seen. You search for your voice. Your brain is still racing.

"What was he doing here, Y/N?"

Talbott stalks closer, his movements rigid. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You have no frame of reference for Talbott angry with you.

Mrs Weasley clears her throat. "Now really, Talbott, I don't think that's-"

"He just...came to talk." Your voice is a low rasp, but it cuts cleanly through Mrs Weasley's protests.

"To talk?"

"Yes."

A feral sort of growl escapes Talbott's throat. He turns, kneading the back of his neck viciously. He paces to the kitchen door, then back again, like a caged animal. It's almost frightening. But you're sick of feeling confusion and fear, and you're sick of feeling sorry. You'd rather be angry some more. You stand, letting the rage you couldn't finish venting on Felix flow through you again.

"So you talked?” Talbott spits the words, each syllable tight and clipped. "You talked to him after everything he's done? After you know what he is? He's a Death Eater, Y/N, and a liar. That's who you want to talk to?”

"At least he cared enough to come find me - unlike you." Your words shock Talbott into stillness. “I just disappear, you get some letter that doesn't even sound like me, and you just write me off as lost?"

Talbott is rooted to the floor. He can't move, even as you advance on him.

"What Felix did was terrible, Talbott. But he did it because he loves me."

"You want me to do something terrible to prove I love you?"

"I just want you to do something!"

Talbott's nostrils flare. His upper lip twitches like he's holding back a sneer.

"So, you'd like me better if I were more like Felix Rosier? If I kidnapped you? Cast spells on you to make you do what I want, like a puppet?"

"I wasn't a puppet!" Your vision blurs red, and you lose all control of your tongue. “Felix didn't force me to marry him, Talbott, I wanted to! When I didn't remember you anymore, I realised I was in love with him and I wanted to be with him. That's what he came for. To remind me of that."

The ghost of your words lingers in the kitchen for several minutes, each as long as years. Talbott's face is entirely blank. Mrs Weasley's hands are clapped over her mouth in horror. You don't care. Saying it out loud releases a weight from your shoulders. It leaves you light-headed and exhausted.

"So...you do love him."

It isn't a question. Talbott's voice is resigned. Guilt tugs at your heart, but you can't really feel it. You're too tired to feel much of anything.

"I don't know. I don't know...anything anymore." You fall into the nearest chair. You drop your head into your hands, your eyelids heavy. "I feel like I'm two different people. Like I've lived two different lives. I was happy in both of them, but... I don't know which one I am now. Maybe neither. I don't know how to choose."

Talbott blinks. It draws curtains over his molten eyes.

"You don't have to choose."

He turns and walks away from you, without a backward glance.

There's no reunion dinner that night. Mrs Weasley sends you straight up to bed. You hear her and Mr Weasley conversing in low tones into the wee hours of the morning. You pull the pillow over your head. You don't want to hear what they're saying about you.

It's two days before you're ready to rejoin the rest of the world. Another before you can eat and drink again properly. One more day, and you're participating in conversation, if only to nod or say, "Of course, Mrs Weasley." By the end of the week, you're as close to normal as you were before Felix's unexpected visit.

The days don't bring you any closer to an answer, but they do bring you further from heartache. You find it's easier to turn your mind from memories of Felix now you've confessed your love out loud. It's as if the feeling has lost power over you. Each day, the loss of him hurts slightly less.

The hardest part of your life now is how little you can do for the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore's task for you reminds you unpleasantly of your school days: to lay low and let others handle it. You would happily ignore this if you thought you might be useful, but the truth is, you don't know how to help. There's no mystery to solve, no secrets to uncover. Just ones to protect.

Still, you attend each meeting, week after week. You help Mrs Weasley with the dinner beforehand and the cleaning afterward. You pay attention to the news that's shared. You contribute what insight your experiences offer.

But mostly you watch Talbott.

Talbott attends almost every meeting, but you never speak and he never approaches. He sits as close to the door as he can manage, and bolts the moment the meeting ends. He's careful never to turn his eyes on you. You watch him just the same. It’s so long since you’ve been in his presence without something horrible happening. Every movement he makes is mesmerizing, the way it always was at school. His sharp nods, his slow blinks, the tapping of his finger against the table you're sure he's unaware of.

You miss Talbott, you realise. Or maybe you just miss the part of your life he represents; the life you built together. The damage done to it seems irreparable. Though you spend many nights wracking your brain, you can think of no way to fix it.

Talbott may choose to ignore your eyes on him, but Mrs Weasley does not. She, at least, is not content to watch and wonder. She renews her encouragements that the two of you talk. She attempts to seat you together at meetings. You deflect her machinations as best you can, but Mrs Weasley won't be thwarted forever.

One evening she insists on arriving at Grimmauld Place earlier than usual. "It's a large meeting tonight, dear," she explains, a little too airily, "so we'll need to start dinner early. And I promised Sirius I would take a look at the drawing room curtains, he thinks the doxies are moving back in."

Sirius is sitting at the end of the kitchen table when the two of you enter. You call a soft greeting, but he merely lifts a hand and grunts. He's staring at a notebook on the table in front of him, as if waiting for words to appear in it. You light a fire with your wand and set water to boil, then begin chopping onions.

As you work, you notice Mrs Weasley shoot furtive glances at the clock. Her attitude is strangely expectant. Something about her nervous energy raises your hackles. When the doorbell clangs, you have a sneaking suspicion who it might be.

"I'll get it!" she says with entirely too much enthusiasm. You narrow your eyes at her as she leaves.

"Bit early, isn't it?" grumbles Sirius. You don't reply. You're listening hard to catch the sounds from the floor above. You hear the front door open, and the murmur of low voices. Your heart stutters as you recognise them both. Mrs Weasley returns to the kitchen with a stiff Talbott in tow. Her face is practically glowing.

"I'm so sorry, dear, Arthur must have got the times mixed up! The meeting's not for another half hour. We're just getting dinner ready, but there's a good bit to do. Perhaps you might be willing to pitch in?"

Talbott stops moving when he notices you. His head darts about the room, searching for an escape. There's a twinge of heartache at seeing him so desperate to get away from you. You turn back to the onions, face burning.

You hear Talbott mumble something about not being much good in the kitchen. Mrs Weasley ignores this entirely.

"Oh, just a bit of slicing. Nothing too difficult! A simple severing charm will work if you're uncomfortable with a knife."

Mrs Weasley drops a cutting board and several loaves of bread on the table. Even with your eyes down, you can see Talbott's hands in your peripheral vision. You wield your knife with extra care, worried you might sever one of your own jittery fingers.

The only sound in the room is the dull thud of blades on wood. After a minute, Mrs Weasley speaks into the awkward silence.

"Well, while I have you two here, I think I'll just pop upstairs and take a look at those curtains. Sirius," she calls, and you hear Sirius stir. "Why don't you show me which room they're in?"

"It's the curtains in the drawing room, Molly."

"Why don't you show me," Mrs Weasley says slowly behind a clenched smile. You can't see her face, but you're sure her eyes are boring into Sirius. He must have taken the hint. You hear his chair being pushed back hastily.

"Oh! Right, of course. I'll show you."

You close your eyes in a plea for patience. You're not sure whether you want to laugh or cry or throw an onion at Mrs Weasley's retreating back. When you open them again, Talbott is watching you. He looks away as soon as your eyes meet.

How long has it been since you were this close to Talbott? Close enough that you could reach across and touch his cheek, if you wanted. If you were still allowed.

Something changes in the room. It takes you a minute to realise what. The sporadic sound of Talbott's knife has stopped. You glance up and find him staring at your hand. You see thoughts race behind his molten eyes.

"What's wrong?" you ask softly, and feel instantly foolish. What isn't wrong in Talbott's life at the moment? You don't expect him to answer, but after a quick gulp he says, "Your ring." He nods at the naked skin of your fourth finger.

Your blush is almost painful. It's been so long since you wore your engagement ring, you've actually forgotten to miss it.

"I...took it off. It didn't feel right...under the circumstances."

Talbott doesn't reply. His head moves in something that might be a nod or a twitch. His eyes return to his cutting board.

You work in silence. A silence you grow quickly to hate. It feels ridiculous to be this uncomfortable around the man you've known for years, a man you know better than anyone else. You used to be able to read his silences so well, interpret meaning from his every change in posture. But you suppose you're both different people now. Each unsure what the other is thinking.

The tension reminds you of something. When you remember what it is, you can't stop a small chuckle. Talbott's head jerks up, eyes registering alarm.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

Talbott only blinks.

"At the start of third year?" you remind him. "When I decided I wanted to become an animagus, and Tulip said I ought to talk to you?"

"I remember," Talbott says. After a beat he adds, "Why?"

"I was just thinking...I think that's the last time I was this nervous to talk to you."

Talbott's eyes shed some of their armor. You catch a glimpse of the man you remember underneath.

"Why were you nervous to talk to me?"

"You were so...intimidating." You smile. It's a rusty, disused expression on your face now. "And you looked like the last thing in the world you wanted to do was talk to me. I was sure you must not like me for some reason."

It had taken so much courage to seat yourself at the Ravenclaw table that day. You'd defeated a cursed vault, battled yetis and werewolves, and Talbott's piercing gaze had made you more nervous than any of them.

You return to chopping, but Talbott remains still.

"I did like you. I'd fancied you since first year."

The knife slices cleanly through the pad of your finger. Drops of blood sprinkle the onions, but you barely notice. You're looking at Talbott in wonder.

"You never told me that."

"Your finger." Talbott nods at your bleeding hand.

"Why did you never tell me that?"

Talbott doesn't answer. He walks around the table toward you. Your heart beats louder with each step. He pries the knife from your suddenly clenched fist, and takes your bleeding hand in his. He taps his wand to your wound and murmurs a spell. The skin seals back up flawlessly. Talbott returns his wand to his pocket, but he doesn't release your hand.

Your gaze is drawn to his face by an impulse you can't control. Talbott's molten eyes are on your mouth. You watch his lips part, his tongue wet them nervously. But he doesn't speak. He doesn't move. You recognise the symptoms. You know he's trapped in his head. There's no parchment or quill to hand, but that tradition really belongs to two different people.

You lean in to Talbott's face until your lips are a breath apart. You pause, waiting for permission. Talbott hesitates, and your heart stops. Then he closes the narrow space between you. Your lips meet, then meet again. You had forgotten what it feels like to kiss Talbott, or maybe it was never like this before. Your lips tingle, and your skin crawls with desire to be touched. Talbott's mouth is careful, almost reluctant, as if he's sure you'll be gone in a moment. You want to promise him you won't be, but neither of you could believe that now.

When Talbott doesn't draw you to him the way you're used to, you pull away. You search his face for answers. Yellow-gold eyes meet yours, begging for something you don't understand. You've always been the one to figure out the next move, but this time you need his help.

"Talbott." Your voice is a whisper. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Talbott murmurs. He closes his eyes so you can't see him think.

"I don't know how to fix this," you admit softly.

You lower your gaze to your hands. Your fingers are still twined together.

"Maybe you can't."

You look up, your heart horribly still. "Is that...what you want?"

Talbott untangles his fingers from yours.

"I want you to be happy. Even...if that's not with me."

You don't know what to say. You open your mouth hoping the right words will appear on their own, when he kitchen door bangs open.

Talbott jumps away from you as if hexed. You look up, expecting to see Mrs Weasley.

It's Professor Snape. By itself, this isn't unusual. Snape is a member of the Order, and he attends every meeting he cannot avoid. It isn't his presence that's cause for concern, it's his unfamiliar expression: one of pale fear. A look you've never seen on the forbidding Professor. The implication leaves you cold. If something has happened to worry Snape...

"What's wrong, Professor?" you ask.

"Potter," and even Snape's voice is missing its usual sneer. "Where is Black?"

You must look ridiculous, you think to yourself, sprinting through the Ministry for Magic alongside Talbott and Sirius in a sundress of all things. At school, there was always time to dress carefully before running into danger. But Harry Potter and his friends are trapped in the Department of Mysteries, and you're determined to help, no matter what you're wearing.

"What are they doing here?" Mad-Eye Moody addresses Talbott as the three of you reach the lifts. "They can't be here. They're not aurors."

Both you and Sirius begin to argue at once. Your recitation of all the dark wizards and dangerous creatures you've defeated is drowned by Sirius' roars of, "I'm his godfather!" Your words reverberate through the huge, empty chamber until Moody slams his staff against the ground for silence.

"There's no time. Just get in!"

The four of you squeeze into the lift where Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, and Tonks are already waiting. The small space throbs with tension as the lift makes its impassively slow descent.

"Isn't there another way?" Sirius barks, slapping his wand against his leg.

"No," says Kingsley shortly.

Moody shuffles about to fix his normal, beady eye on you.

"Seeing as neither of you are aurors, and you ought not to be here in the first-"

"I am Harry's godfather!"

"Then make him your responsibility!" Moody snaps at Sirius. "You, Remus, and Y/N: find the students and get them out. Leave the Death Eaters to us."

You give a sharp nod. Talbott shifts uncomfortably next to you.

The lift finally settles. Your party is out and running before the doors click shut behind you. Moody leads the way through the Department of Mysteries labyrinth, a strange instrument in the hand not holding his wand apparently providing him directions.

"This way!" he calls, leading the group through another door.

Adrenaline courses through you as you run. It's a feeling as familiar as your old school robes. This is your element. For the first time in so long, you’re unburdened by confusion or indecision. When you burst through a door to find black-robed figures surrounding two students, you know exactly what to do.

In front of you, the aurors advance on the Death Eaters. Their spells fill the room with light and sound. You wait until the Death Eaters have turned to face this new threat, then descend toward the dark-haired boys, yanking them into a crouch behind a stone step.

"Where are the others?"

You have to shout to be heard over the noise of the duelling around you. The boy with glasses - Harry Potter, you realise by the scar - rips his eyes away from the fight.

"Up there! They're still in that other room." He gestures at a different door than the one you entered through. "The girls are all unconscious, I think. And Ron - one of those brain things got him. You have to help them!"

You twist around, searching for Sirius or Lupin. Sirius is a few rows down, a wide grin on his face as he duels. Lupin, you don't see at all. You cast about for threats, but the boys don't appear to be in immediate danger.

"Stay here," you order them, feeling a bit of a hypocrite. "Wands out, heads down."

Keeping your body low to minimise your target, you sprint up the stairs. None of the Death Eaters have a glance to spare for you, and you make it to the door unmolested. Before you push through it, you can't help but look back, scanning the fight for yellow-gold eyes.

Talbott is dueling a Death Eater nearly twice his girth. You watch, transfixed. You've never seen Talbott move like this. He's usually twitchy, better in the air than on his feet. Now, as he duels, his movements are smooth and precise. He twists to avoid a purple spell, then spins back, sending a stunner of his own. It catches the Death Eater in the chest, and he drops instantly. In spite of everything, you grin.

As if able to feel your gaze, Talbott's eyes find yours across the room. You nod your head at the door to indicate your direction. Then, with a last look at Talbott, you hurtle through.

Desks and shelves and heavy tables indicate the room is some sort of office. Only every single piece of furniture is now overturned or collapsed. You step with caution, but still manage to slip. The floor is slick with liquid. You notice strange, jelly-like objects floating in the shallow pools - the brains Harry Potter had mentioned? You take care to avoid them as you search for signs of the students.

"Hello?" you call softly. There's no answer.

You reach the middle of the room and survey your surroundings. There's a door just ahead; another to the side. You're considering which is more likely when you hear shallow breathing nearby. You ready your wand, then hesitate. It could be one of the students, hiding from you. Ron or Ginny would know you right away, but not the others.

"It's alright," you call again. "I'm here to get you out. I'm a friend. I'm with the Order."

"Well, hello, Friend with the Order."

You whirl around. A tall figure in a black hood emerges from behind a fallen cabinet. Without pause for thought you yell, "Stupefy!" but he easily sidesteps the spell. You cast a quick shield charm, blocking his return attack, then steady yourself for another. But the Death Eater hesitates. His hood flicks to a space over your left shoulder. On instinct, you dive to the side. Red sparks explode through the air where your body had been, thrown by a second Death Eater behind you. His spell hits the other masked figure in the arm and he howls in rage and pain.

"Watch where you're aiming!" he snarls, clutching his injury.

You use the second's distraction to throw yourself behind a desk. You lean back against it, breathing through your nose and thinking past your racing heartbeat. The wreckage of furniture forms an almost unbroken wall for several metres. If you can just make it around without them noticing...

One of the Death Eaters shouts a curse. Red light slams your hiding spot into the wall with a crash. But you're already two desks away, flat against the floor and crawling carefully. Your dress snags as you press close to the wall of splintered wood.

"Just kill her!"

"Rosier said not to kill until we're sure Malfoy has the prophecy. You want to go back to the Dark Lord empty-handed?"

"That's the students, not the Order members.'

These words make your heart stutter horribly. Your hand slips on the wet floor.

"Over there!"

Heavy footfalls sound nearby. You straighten, but only make it to your knees before two hooded figures loom over the desk. There's time to aim a stunning spell at only one. The Death Eater you hit drops instantly, but your stomach still clenches in dread. The other's wand is pointed at your face and his spell is already half voiced.

"Avada-"

You throw yourself flat, your only hope that the spell might miss. You hold your breath, waiting for bright green light.

But the rest of the curse never comes. There’s the thud of a body hitting the floor. Then rapid footsteps. You roll over quickly, wand at the ready.

"Y/N?"

Felix's black hood is thrown back. His rich brown eyes gaze down at you, swimming in fear and relief. You squeeze your own shut to stop yourself staring. It's been so long since you've seen that expression, you'd forgotten how much you missed it. Or maybe you've never been so glad to see it. You take in large gulps of air, trying to catch your breath.

"Are you alright? What are you doing here?“

Felix's panicked words remind your of your mission. You push yourself up with a groan, skin smarting where it's smacked the hard floor. Felix bends hastily, holding out a hand. You hesitate for only a second before letting him pull you to your feet.

It's a moment before either of you can speak. Felix inspects you from head to toe, presumably searching for injuries. You straighten your dress, trying to hide your blush. You wish you were wearing something more substantial.

"I...thank you...I guess," you say at last, to your shoes. You're not quite ready to look Felix in the face.

Felix doesn't answer. You lift your gaze, head buzzing with nerves, and catch him staring at your hand.

"You're...not wearing your ring," Felix says haltingly. An eager light flickers briefly in his eyes. "Are you and Talbott...not-"

Your face contorts in annoyance. You cross your arms to hide your hand.

"Is this really the time?"

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Felix answers, "No. No it's not." Hints of concern reform on his features. "Y/N, you have to go. Now."

"I'm not going anywhere,” you insist hotly. “Not until I find the other students."

"They're safe. Relatively. As safe as I could manage. If the aurors hurry, they can get them out in time.”

"What do you mean, as safe as you can manage?"

"We have them rounded up in another room," Felix explains rapidly, eyes darting nervously to the doors. "I convinced the others we could use them as leverage, so they're not about to be killed. I'll make sure the aurors finds them, I promise. Just trust me."

At the word We, you can't suppress a shiver. It isn't the pleasant sort of shiver Felix usually inspires.

"Trust you?" you repeat, adjusting your grip on your wand. "You're a Death Eater, Felix."

Felix makes a noise of exasperation. He shuffles in place, as if desperate to be gone.

"That doesn't mean I want students to be killed. I'm not a murderer."

"How could I know? You've already proven you're more than willing to lie to me when it suits you."

"That was to keep you safe! " Felix almost shouts in frustration. "Exactly what I'm trying to do now!"

He makes a sudden movement as if to grab your shoulders. You jump back, wand lifting on instinct. Felix freezes. He eyes your wand, and perhaps you're only imagining hurt in the lines of his face. When he speaks again, his words are fast and strained.

"Y/N, I made a mistake. An awful mistake, and I'm paying for it every day I'm not with you. Every day I wake up and realise I have - have nothing." Felix's voice cracks briefly. "I know I deserve that. I deserve for you not to trust me. But you have to believe that all I want in the world is get you out of here alive."

You wish you didn't believe him. It would make everything so much easier. But in spite of his crimes, your instinct about Felix hasn't changed. You can't imagine him ever doing anything to hurt you. On purpose, anyway.

"If that's true," you say softly, "Then help me get the students out. Because I'm not going anywhere until I do."

It's clear from Felix's grimace how much he dislikes this plan. He runs desperate fingers through his hair, searching for cracks in your resolute expression. But your face remains firm. Felix is finally forced to sigh.

"Alright. Follow me."

Felix leads you through the twisting labyrinth of rooms and corridors, most showing evidence of a fight. Doors are splintered or hang off hinges, and you have to watch your feet to avoid scattered piles of broken glass. You're just beginning to be concerned about how far in you are when Felix stops outside a heavy, un-battered door. A low mutter of voices carries from inside.

"Stay here," Felix whispers. Catching sight of your raised eyebrows, he adds, "Please. There are guards. I'll need to get rid of them."

"I can help," you whisper back, but Felix shakes his head. Only your desire to find the students quickly keeps you from further protests. Reluctantly, you lean against the wall out of sight of the door. Felix readjusts his black hood before sweeping into the room.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, you press your ear to the jam. You can hear Felix's footsteps walking away, his voice mingling with the others. You lean in closer, trying to make out the words, until a deafening bang from inside makes you flinch. You hear footsteps again, this time coming closer, running fast across hard floor. You grip the doorknob but hesitate, unsure whether to intervene.

Someone shouts an incantation. There's a heavy thud, and a voice cries out in pain. Felix's voice. Without thinking, you grab the handle and fling the door wide.

It takes you only a second to locate Felix, hood askew and blood dripping from his face, on the floor in the middle of the dimly lit room. Another hooded figure looms over him, wand out and aimed.

"Stupefy!"

Your jet of light hits the Death Eater square in the chest. Without waiting to watch him fall, you swing your wand from side to side, searching for enemies. But the only other robed figure you see lies prone beside a door set into the opposite wall.

Felix groans. You step forward quickly, holding out your hand and helping him struggle to his feet. There's a long, clean gash down the side of his face. You're surprised at how sick the sight of the wound makes you.

"Are you alright?"

"I - yes, of course. That was..." Felix rubs the back of his neck, not quite able to meet your eye. "Thank you."

You're saved from thinking up a reply by a muffled cry from behind. Three girls and a boy, all dressed in Hogwarts robes, are huddled against the wall as if thrown there, each trussed up in snaking, black cords. Only one is awake and struggling.

"Ginny!"

You skirt the fallen Death Eater and drop to the ground, using your wand to sever Ginny's bonds. As soon as you tug the cord out of her mouth, Ginny croaks, "Y/N, he's one of them! He's a Death Eater, too!"

You follow her frantic gaze to Felix, standing awkwardly in the background.

"It's alright, Ginny. He's a friend."

Felix blinks, and for a moment his face is filled with the soft joy you love so much to see. Then a door slams.

Felix whirls around, wand raised, and you're on your feet only a second later. But no attack comes; no spells fly. You glance between the doors on either end of the room, but no new hooded figures appear. Instinct suddenly chills your blood and you scan the floor instead.

"Where's...the other one?" you ask haltingly.

Felix's eyes widen as he understands. He shoots a panicked look at the place where the Death Eater had fallen, but his body is nowhere to be seen. Felix sprints to the far door, pressing his ear against it.

"He...must have gone to get the others."

Felix runs his wand across the door frame, sealing it with a squelch. You turn back to Ginny, struggling to stand on what looks like a broken ankle. You mutter, "Episkey" and watch the swelling in the ankle subside, then inspect the other three students. It isn't immediately clear what's wrong with them, but none react when you attempt to use magic to wake them.

"We'll have to carry them," you tell Felix, at your side once more. "You take Ron and I'll get the taller girl. Ginny, do you think you could carry the blonde one? She looks the lightest."

"This isn't going to work." Something in Felix's voice makes your skin crawl.

"Why not?”

"It’s too late. The rest of the Death Eaters will be here in minutes. Even if we use magic to carry them, we'll never make it to the lifts in time."

A leaden weight sinks in your stomach. There's too much truth in Felix's words for you to deny. You cast about for counterpoints, solutions, some sort of foolproof plan, but your brain comes up short.

"Well," you say, forcing yourself to breathe through your panic, "We'll just have to try. Maybe there's somewhere we can hide, or-"

A second slam in as many minutes almost shatters your brittle nerves. You fumble with your wand, aiming it at the door nearest you this time, and almost drop it when you recognise the intruders.

"Talbott," you breathe in relief. "Tonks, Lupin, thank Merlin! The students are here and we've got to get them out. Now. Death Eaters are on the way..."

But Talbott's face steals the words from your lips. He's staring at Felix with eyes so molten they might be made of fire. When he speaks, his voice thrums with suppressed hatred.

"Drop it." Talbott gives a curt nod at Felix's half-raised wand.

Felix's gaze flicks warily from Talbott to Tonks, her wand also lifted, to Lupin, ignoring the stand-off and kneeling to inspect the unconscious students. You notice all three are pale and grim-faced, and you wonder what else has happened. But there isn't time for questions now.

"I said, drop it!"

"Talbott, wait!" You step quickly in between the two men. "Felix led me here. He was keeping the students safe."

Talbott doesn't even blink. If it weren't for his reply, you'd wonder if he heard you at all.

"One half-decent act doesn't make him any less of a Death Eater."

"But he isn't helping the Death Eaters, he's helping us! Helping me. He saved my life from a Death Eater that-"

"This isn't about you!" Flame flickers in Talbott's eyes. "This isn't about us. This is my job. We're rounding up all the Death Eaters. You'll have to plead his case to Mad-Eye, if that's what you want."

The thought of trying to convince Mad-Eye Moody to give Felix a second chance makes you blanch. You open your mouth to argue, but this time it's Felix who cuts you off.

"You won't have to worry about in any of that in a minute. A dozen powerful wizards are on their way through that door." Felix jerks his head toward the other end of the room. "I highly doubt you'll be able to round them all up just the three of you."

Talbott spares a wary glance at the far door.

"He's right," Tonks chimes in, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "Let's get the students out first, then come back with Mad-Eye and the others."

Tonks lowers her wand, and moves to help Lupin with the unconscious teenagers. Lupin has already lifted the taller, bushy-haired girl over his shoulder, and uses his wand to levitate the unconscious Ron. Tonks mirrors his spell on the small, blonde girl. She wraps her free arm around Ginny to help keep weight of her still-tender ankle.

"We'll never make it at that pace," Felix says darkly, eyeing the careful way Lupin manoeuvres Ron toward the door. "They'll catch us up before we're halfway to the lifts."

"You're not going anywhere until you drop your wand!" Talbott tries to point his wand around you at Felix, but you move with him, blocking his view. Behind you, Felix snorts.

"And leave myself unarmed when they all surge in at any second? I've betrayed them! They'll spare me about as much mercy as they will you."

A soft sound from the far end of the room suddenly stops your heart. All three of you fall silent as you watch the doorknob turn slowly. It rotates each way once, then stills. You hold your breath, braced for another loud slam, but the door remains closed.

"Tonks," you say into the trembling silence, "You and Lupin, take the students and go."

Lupin is two steps ahead of you. He has Ron through the door already, and waits impatiently for Tonks. But Tonks looks from you to Talbott uncertainly.

"I think...we ought to stick together."

"We'll be right behind you," you say. "We'll give you time to get to the lifts." You try to smile reassuringly, but your mouth doesn't remember how. You can only hope you sound more confident than you look.

Tonks continues to hesitate, until a hard thud on the opposite door makes her and Ginny both jump.

"Come on!" Lupin calls from the other room. Tonks shoots a final, unsure look at Talbott before forcing the eerily floating blonde student ahead of her through the door.

Another thud, then the sound of voices echoes from the other side of the room. The doorknob rattles again, violently this time. The noise seems to shake Talbott from his unswervable anger. His wand wavers before finally abandoning Felix for the far door, his eyes reflecting frantic thought.

"What spell did you use on the door?" you ask Felix, your voice betraying your nerves. Felix's answer is equally unsteady.

"It's a variation on an imperturbable charm. But it's not impenetrable. With enough of them, they can break the spell." Felix's head snaps toward you, mouth set in a thin, grim line. "Y/N, you need to leave. Now. Go with the others."

"That's ridiculous, we stand a better chance with three of us.“

"He's right." Both you and Felix look at Talbott in shock. For the first time since entering the room, Talbott meets your gaze. "You need to go."

"I'm not leaving you," you argue, holding Talbott's eyes. You're close enough that you can watch the fire in them melt into liquid, like a churning yellow-gold ocean.

"Please, Y/N, go." And there's a pain in Talbott's voice like you've never heard. "I can't lose you. Not again."

Your heart breaks gently at Talbott's confession. Exactly as it had when he first managed to pen those words. You wish you could promise him something, anything to assuage his fear. But the far door is shaking now. You've run out of time. You take a breath, steeling yourself for a last stand, the way you have so many times before. Facing death is nothing new for you, but you don't want anything to be left unsaid if it comes.

"Talbott." You close the distance between you in short, measured steps, as though worried he might fly away. "I did get lost...but I found my way back. You led me back. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again. I - I promise." Your fingers brush Talbott's softly, asking permission. "Whatever happens, happens to both of us."

Talbott's fingers close around yours on instinct. He grips your hand tightly, all his attention on you as if there were nothing else in the room.

"Do you mean that?"

You can only nod, your words exhausted. But he sees the answer in the spark of your eye.

"Y/N." Talbott releases your hand to reach for your face. He strokes your cheek in careful wonder like he's forgotten how. You close your eyes, reveling in his touch.

"Go."

The word startles both of you. Talbott let his hand fall abruptly. You turn to face Felix, unable to hide a slight blush. Talbott's mere touch has made you so dizzy you can't comprehend Felix's meaning right away.

"What?"

"Go. Both of you, go." Something has changed in Felix’s voice. It's no longer nervous. It's no longer anything. It's empty and lifeless, like the voice of a corpse. "I'll distract them. Tell them some story. Buy you enough time to get to the lifts."

You shake your head slowly. "No...Felix, that's...there must be some other-"

Felix takes your chin delicately in his hand, and your voice trails away. You feel Talbott shift beside you, but Felix moves no closer. His empty eyes merely wander your face, as if trying to memorise each part of it.

"Y/N. Let me do this. For you. I-" His voice cracks like dead leaves. "I never meant to hurt you."

The pounding on the far door intensifies. The heavy wood splinters, and light pokes through from the other side. If anything else can be seen, your vision is too blurry to catch it. You close your hand around Felix's, trying to blink back the tears. There's so much you want to say to him. To this man who handles you so delicately, looks at you like treasure, loves you like you're the only thing in the world that matters. But you aren't sure there are words to explain how you feel. You can only nod, and say inadequately, "I know."

Felix releases your face, then locks eyes with Talbott.

"Keep her safe."

Talbott's jaw tenses once before he manages a short nod. He grasps your hand again and tugs you gently toward the door.

You take a last look at Felix Rosier, watching you walk away from him.

"Go," he says once more.

Felix turns to face the oncoming noise. And you turn and run the other way, Talbott at your side.

You don't stop running until you reach the lifts. Talbott guides you back through the labyrinth of rooms, never loosing his grip on your fingers. There's no sign of Tonks, Lupin, and the students, and you can only hope distantly that they've made it out alright. Once inside the lift, you throw yourself against the wall. Your breathing comes in short, painful gasps and hot tears still threaten the corners of your eyes.

"Are you alright?" Talbott's voice is so quiet you almost miss it under the sound of blood pounding in yours ears.

You glance up at Talbott, blinking through your tears. He stands stock still, eyes alert and tense. You choke back a mad laugh. It reminds you forcibly of teenaged Talbott: the awkward, anxious boy you fell in love with almost instantly, whose stillness hid such depths and inspired the best in you.

"Yes," you answer honestly, wiping your eyes. "I'm - I'm alright." You take a shuddering breath, trying to settle your swirling thoughts. "Talbott... I-"

There's no time to worry about finding the right words. Talbott takes your face in his hands and stops you with a kiss like wildfire. He clutches you to him, dragging his hands across you artlessly, trying to pull you into him until you occupy the same space. It's a closeness you've craved for so long, and your hands are no less wild. You can never have enough of this. Enough of him.

You tear your lips away, gasping for breath, but Talbott won’t release you. You're forced to speak against his neck as he clings to you for life.

"Talbott, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You repeat the words over and over. You can't think of anything else to say. Talbott's head shakes where its pressed against yours.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"What?"

You struggle to ease Talbott’s hold on you just enough so you can meet his molten eyes.

"You've always come after me. All the time I've known you, our whole lives - I run and you come find me. And the one time you needed me to come find you, I didn't. I was...too afraid." Talbott tangles his fingers in your hair, closing the fraction of space between you again, until his forehead rests against yours. "But this time, I promise...I won't let you go. Not ever again."

For once, it's you that can’t give your thoughts voice. When the lift doors open, you and Talbott are still clasped together, speaking softly in a language that communicates feeling better than words ever could.

Epilogue

"Good morning," you whisper huskily in your husband's ear.

He groans without opening his eyes. You giggle softly, trailing breathy, teasing kisses up his neck, under his chin. His lips part, inviting yours into a lazy, lingering kiss. When you pull away, his eyes remain firmly shut.

"You're sleepy this morning," you murmur.

Talbott cracks an eye. "You know, some people sleep in on their honeymoon."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. Some people even enjoy it."

You trace his collarbone with a finger. You can hear Talbott's breath catch.

"Strange. I enjoy my waking life a lot more than dreams."

Talbott stirs, at your touch or your words. He rolls you over in his arms until you're pinned beneath him. You revel in the sensation of being very slightly crushed by the body you adore.

"What's so great about it, then?" Talbott asks in dry amusement. "The smell of the sea, or the sound of the waves, or the room service that means we never actually have to get out of bed?"

You grin, and shake your head against the pillow. "None of the above."

"Really?"

"Really." You trail your fingernails lightly up and down Talbott's back, savouring the feel of his warm skin. Talbott shudders under your hands. He locks eyes with you, his molten, yellow-gold stare saying everything you love to hear. He leans down to murmur against your lips:

"What then?"

You smile. Your mouth meets Talbott's and you say in between tantalising kisses:

"I'm Mrs Talbott Winger. I'm your wife. I'm on my honeymoon - in the middle of a war, where we're being constantly hunted - but...I'm with you. So I'm better than safe."

Talbott's only response is another kiss, but you know exactly what he means.

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

Text

In Love & War (2/3)

Part 2: Retrouvaille

You look down at the parchment in your hands, then back at the dilapidated building in front of you. The numbers match. This is the place. And a more unlikely setting for a casual conversation, you can’t imagine. You have to walk several flights of stairs to reach the top flat. You knock tentatively on the stripped-paint door, but it swings open at your touch. In spite of the sun shining behind you, the room within is shrouded in darkness.

The thought of what Felix would say if he knew where you were and what you were about to do stops you before you enter. Felix, so all-consumed with your safety he thinks of almost nothing else. To walk into such an obvious trap after everything he’s done for you feels like a betrayal of the highest order. But the darkness ahead doesn’t frighten you nearly as much as the dark gaps in your memories. You're convinced now something is wrong, something is missing from your mind, and you cannot shake the feeling that Talbott Winger will be able to shed light on it.

And if it turns out to be a trap, well, it's been a long time since you had a decent duel.

You light your wand and push past the creaking door. It's a studio loft flat, the entirety of which could fit inside the Rosier mansion's second-best dining room. Your light arcs across the walls, scanning the dark for potential dangers. There's a worn but comfortable-looking sofa, soft curtains fluttering gently over the windows, and cheerily painted picture frames decorating the peeling walls. It might have been quite homey once, you think. Only now nearly everything is coated in a thick layer of dust and debris. A table near the kitchen alcove is piled high with used dishes and old fish-and-chip wrappers. You wrinkle your nose at the smell of stale food. There's a noticeable absence of animals or insect life, however, and you wonder whether the flat is entirely abandoned after all.

Movement at the corner of your vision makes you jump. You look up, wand gripped tightly. A wavy pattern of light dances across the wall behind the table. A strange, flickering light, like the reflection of water. You step closer, searching for the source, when a picture hanging at an angle captures your attention.

Even beneath the layers of dust, you recognise the yellow-gold eyes of Talbott Winger. A teenaged Talbott Winger, standing awkwardly at the edge of a group of young people wearing Hogwarts robes. As you stare, one of the other teenagers grabs Talbott's hand, dragging him closer. The students all smile and wave toward the camera, and Talbott's friend leans over to kiss his cheek. Several of the students cheer and Talbott's face turns a fiery red, but he smiles in spite of himself and doesn't pull away.

You inspect Talbott's cheeky companion with interest. You squint at the face, trying to make it out beneath the dust and dirt. Something about them is painfully familiar. The figure turns to face the camera again, and shock like a thunderbolt roots you to the spot.

“Y/N.”

You whip around to find Talbott lurking near the door watching you. His wand is held at his side, but it doesn't occur to you to be afraid. Your head is reeling at the photograph's implications.

“What is this?” You gesture at the picture.

Talbott does not reply. He’s once again the self that seems most natural on him, brooding and silent.

“Why am I in this photo? Why am I -“ You glance back at the picture to confirm what your mind is struggling to accept. You - a teenaged you, dressed in school robes - leaning in to kiss Talbott's cheek as you wave to the camera.

“Were we.... together? At school?

Talbott is still unwilling, or unable, to answer. He takes a few wooden steps toward you. You gather your wits enough to point your wand at his chest.

"Stop!" you demand. You rake your free hand across your scalp, grappling for an explanation. "This is...some sort of trick, isn't it? You're trying to get information from me. About Felix.”

Talbott only shakes his head. His eyes look almost as panicked as you feel.

"Then why can't I remember you? Why can't I remember any of this? Why doesn't anything make sense?"

"Your husband," Talbott pronounces the word with disgust, "is lying to you."

Your heart skips a beat.

"That's...quite an accusation." The tremor in your voice belies your arch words. A light has clicked on in your head, but you don't want to look at it.

It makes sense. It's almost the only thing that makes sense. Felix's refusal to answer questions, to explain anything to you, to let you go anywhere... You've always known he was hiding something. You simply trusted him enough to let it go, at least for the time being. But lying? You picture your husband's adoring eyes and careful hands cupping your face. It's impossible to imagine Felix doing anything to hurt you.

"Alright then. What is he lying about?"

"Everything."

Talbott takes a tentative step, eyes asking yours for permission. You hesitate. Then you lower your wand. You hold your breath as he walks, but Talbott stops on the other side of the table. He pushes aside greasy newspaper wrappings to reveal a stone basin underneath.

"A Pensieve?"

You've seen one just like it in Dumbledore's office. You wonder if it isn't the same one, it looks so similar. What is it doing here?

"I don't know what he's done to you, but I think it's a powerful memory charm," says Talbott. He takes a small vial from his pocket and empties it into the Pensieve. "So you're not going to believe me if I tell you. But I think if I show you...you might remember."

The contents of the basin begin to swirl. Talbott takes a step back and stares at you pointedly. You understand what he wants you to do. But it's madness to put yourself in such a vulnerable position with this man you cannot remember. You shouldn't even be considering it.

You stare at the swirling basin. It’s filled to the brim with memories. And memories are everything you’ve been missing for so long. You approach the Pensieve, and, without letting yourself think anymore, plunge your face inside.

Tendrils of liquid mist writhe about you as you sink in a swirl of light and colour. Fragments of memory play out quickly in front of your floating body: you see yourself, a ridiculously young you, watching in awe as a gawky yellow-eyed boy becomes a bird in the middle of the Hogwarts courtyard; then a version of yourself only slightly older peers anxiously through a gap in a bookcase, hands fiddling with your hair, until the young Talbott on the other side whispers, "My answer is yes," and you watch your own face light up in unrestrained joy.

Another swirl of mist turns the room into starlit sky, and the teenage you and Talbott are perched on the edge of the courtyard fountain. Talbott's hand inches across the stone toward yours. You meet him halfway, grinning furtively, your fingers just brushing his before Talbott grips them tightly, as though you might run away at any second. Then the courtyard morphs into a greenhouse, stars still winking overhead, and you're holding hands with Talbott across a table. The teenage you holds her breath, and you can feel your own present-day chest suddenly still, as Talbott leans over and places tentative lips on your cheek.

You reach up to touch your own, older cheek as if the imprint might still be there. Then your fingers brush your lips. There's a burning there, as well, and you suddenly know where the next memory will be just before the swirling mist subsides.

The owlrey, at sunset. You and Talbott sit cross-legged on the straw, books spread out between you. You're supposed to be studying, you remember, but you can't keep your eyes off the boy next to you. He's staring at his book with all the appearance of unflappable focus. Then he darts a glance at you from the corner of his eye. The younger you smiles. In a rush of boldness you can feel as well as see, the younger you presses your lips to Talbott's in the whisper of a kiss.

Echos of exhilaration, and a sudden horrible fear that you've gone too far, rush through your veins as if the moment were happening to you again. Then Talbott reaches for your teenage self, yanking you closer, his mouth open in a desperate, un-practiced, entirely un-self-conscious kiss. Your first kiss.

You remember it now. You close your eyes, but the scene continues to play behind your eyelids. Your awkward teenage fumbling with lips and teeth and tongue, interspersed with giggles and later with breathy sighs. That kiss had meant everything to you. It had lulled you to sleep at night for so many years. It was the memory that inspired your patronus. How could you have forgotten it?

You open your eyes again. Images continue to flash in quick succession and your dizzy brain tries desperately to keep up. There's you and Talbott in the library passing notes to each other between the bookcases; laying out on the grass with Talbott, your fingers intertwined, watching the stars and sharing secrets; stolen moments with Talbott in the owlrey, discovering each other's bodies slowly and sweetly; Talbott cradling you against him at Rowan's funeral, ignoring the whispers and raised eyebrows of the students around you; Talbott's burning face and pleased smile as you kiss his cheek for your graduation photograph.

Each moment ignites a flame of recognition inside you. You try to remember everything all at once, itemize every moment you've somehow forgotten. But your head feels like it's breaking under the barrage of memories.

Then the mists converge and settle into a scene more still and focused than the others. A slightly older Talbott stands stiffly in the middle of an empty studio flat. You recognise it as the flat you've left your body in. Only it's less dusty and dirty, and there's sunlight streaming through open, curtain-less windows.

You look around for your younger self, but Talbott is alone. These must be Talbott's memories then, not yours. He's rubbing the back of his neck so hard he might wear the skin away, and shooting panicked looks around the empty room. His yellow-gold eyes dart to a window. You can tell he's fighting the urge to take flight. Then the door to the flat swings open noisily. It slams against the wall and a rain of plaster sprinkles to the floor.

"Whoops!" you hear your own voice say. A you, slightly older than the graduation photo and with different hair, staggers into the flat. There’s a tower of boxes balanced in your arms. "Guess we'll need to fix that."

You flash a grin at Talbott, but it fades when you catch sight of his expression.

"What's wrong?"

Talbott says nothing. He figdets with the pocket of his trousers and doesn't meet your eye.

Carefully, you tip your boxes to the floor. You take slow, deliberate steps toward Talbott, as if approaching an extra skittish bowtruckle.

"You don't...I mean...you've not changed your mind, have you?"

If anything, Talbott looks more anxious than before. He shakes his head so violently hair swings about his face. He stares at you, mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a baby bird. Your younger self considers this for a moment. Then you take a deep breath and say, "Okay. Hold on."

Pointing your wand at the boxes, your younger self murmurs, "Windgardium Leviosa,” levitating them carefully to the middle of the room. The boxes settle into even columns until they form a wall about waist height. You dig through the top box and come up with parchment and quill. Then you slide down one side of the cardboard wall. Your hand sneaks around to pat the space on the other side.

The present-day you smiles as you watch Talbott take the proffered seat. You know what this is. It’s the ritual the two of you invented at school, whenever Talbott's anxiety robbed him of speech. What others often mistook for haughty silence, you discovered was really Talbott trapped in his own head, too overwhelmed to explain his thoughts aloud. So you wrote him notes. You left them in the owlery, or his schoolbooks, or slid them between bookshelves in the library to where he waited on the other side. You let him write, at his own pace, everything that was on his mind, until the panic subsided and he could speak again.

As you watch, your younger self scribbles a single word on the parchment, then slides it back to Talbott. You don't have to look to remember what it says.

Hey

Hey yourself, Talbott writes, sliding the parchment back.

You don't seem excited about moving day. Is it the flat? I know it's rubbish, but I can fix a good bit of that.

Talbott grimaces before writing in his careful hand: I don't mind about the flat. It's ours. It's perfect.

So why the long face?

This time, it takes Talbott minutes before he's able to pen the words, I'm afraid, and push the parchment toward you.

Of what?

Talbott's hand-writing is now a hasty scrawl. What if some dark wizard I'm tracking comes looking for me and finds you instead? What if I'm not here to help you?

Your younger self grins. Talbott, I outduel you every time. I'm more worried about you going to work without me.

The corner of Talbott's lips twitch before his face clouds again. What if you change your mind later?

I won't.

The next words come slow and shaky. Talbott presses the quill so hard to the parchment ink bleeds through.When he's finished, Talbott tosses the parchment aside. You have to stretch your arm around the boxes to reach it.

I don't want to lose you.

And you remember without having to look the little pinpricks of tears in yours eyes as you read this. You set the parchment down and crawl around the boxes to Talbott's side. You settle yourself across Talbott's lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your forehead to his.

"You aren't going to lose me. I promise."

Then Talbott's hands are everywhere at once: roaming through your hair, down your arms, across every bit of your body he can reach. His mouth takes yours like a drowning man fighting for air. Even now, so many years later, you can feel your heart stop with the force of that kiss. There's nothing gentle or careful about his clutching fingers or his hungry lips. It's a primal, animal sort of need that makes you gasp and tremble and wrap your legs around him.

Talbott pulls you harder against him, as close as you can possibly be, but it isn't close enough. It never is. Not after you've removed every layer of clothing separating you, nor when he pins you to the ground, your frantic movements testing the integrity of the floorboards. You always need more of him. It's why you can make a promise like that with such certainty.

What on earth could have induced you to break it? What could possibly have made you forget this moment?

The memory melts into mist again, and when it reforms you see a different face smiling at a version of you not much younger than you are now. A face with rich brown eyes, and a superior smirk you know by heart.

"Rosier, this is a surprise!"

Your exclamation echoes into Flourish and Blotts where Talbott, examining a book, looks up sharply.

"Indeed. It's been a long time, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you again."

Felix takes your hand and offers it a kiss, accented by a mock bow. He winks, and you laugh at the little display.

The scene shifts again, and now you're watching yourself and Felix chat across a table at an outdoor cafe. Only you’re watching from the rooftop of a building a block away. You wonder why, until you spot a great eagle next to you, piercing yellow-gold eyes fixed on the you down below. You squint in the same direction, wondering if you can get closer. Except, as you take in the cafe's coloured awning, you realise you know this memory already. You've thought of it before: catching up with Felix for the first time after you graduated.

You can see Felix's lips move, but the words are muffled. Talbott must have been too far away to hear anything clearly. Felix reaches across the table to stroke the back of your hand. You remember the way the casual flirtation made you shiver. He says something Talbott can't hear, but you remember the words exactly.

"Perhaps I could take you to dinner sometime. I'd love to hear more. I've...quite missed you, Y/N."

And your own reply as you pull your hand gently away. "That...sounds lovely, Rosier. Felix. But I'm afraid I am seeing someone already."

You offer an apologetic smile which Felix accepts with grace.

"Of course. Maybe, as friends then? If you're comfortable?"

But Talbott can't hear this exchange. He can only see your eager nod and the brief embrace you and Felix share before parting.

"We were just friends," you whisper to the eagle, but of course, he can't hear that either. He takes off from the building in rapid flight, wings beating the air violently. And the memory congeals into mist once more.

Scenes continue to play before your eyes. You watch time pass in snatches of moments, but you take in very little of what's happening. Because something has clicked in your brain, and your mind is finally supplying forgotten memories of its own. Talbott, wandering the flat you share, taciturn and brooding. Nothing you do or say can cheer him. Your questions go unanswered, your notes ignored. You remember your growing frustration and concern with your distant partner. His change toward you hurt. You can still feel the ache, like a bruise against your chest. It was as if all the years you had spent carefully building trust with him had never happened. You couldn't understand it.

But with Talbott's memories to fill in the gaps, everything makes sense.

You never mentioned your lunch with Felix to Talbott, nor any of the meetings that followed. You knew Felix's Death Eater family would have made any friendship between him and Talbott impossible. So you kept it hidden. You thought. Guilt sours your stomach until you're afraid you might be sick. What must Talbott have thought of you?

The sound of your own voice raised in frustration snaps you back to the scene in front of you.

"You have to talk to me!" you cry, fingers fisting in your own hair. "I have been so patient, Talbott, but I can't drag words from you all the time. You have to help me! You have to tell me what's going on in your head. If you don't love me anymore, then just say so! Anything is better than this."

"Of course, I love you," Talbott mumbles. He's edging toward the window, retreating from the fight. Usually, this would make you stop and think through your actions carefully. The last thing you ever want to do is scare Talbott away. But this time, angry agitation courses through you. You can still feel the echo of it bubbling in your veins, keeping your better judgment at bay.

"Then why? Why would it be so awful to be married? We've lived together for years, I don't understand why it's so different."

Talbott's yellow-gold eyes plead with you to hear what he cannot say. You understand now the fears he could not put into words. But your younger self only waits impatiently, arms crossed, while Talbott shakes his head.

"We just...can't."

The memory shifts again, and you're watching yourself from a great height. Rain pelts from the sky in angry bullets. They seem to pass right through your strangely floating body, but they run heavily off the wings of the eagle next to you: Talbott, gliding soundlessly above your younger self, as you sprint across the Rosier estate to the manor house. You rap hard on the front door. It takes only a moment for it to open and a surprised looking Felix to allow you to dart inside.

Talbott circles the manor several times, you floating along beside him, before he catches sight of light and movement in a ground floor window. He dives, and you dive with him. You know you can't actually be hurt in someone else's memory, but still you squeeze your eyes shut as the ground hurtles toward you. You don't reopen them until you hear the scrabbling of talons against ground. Talbott settles himself in the shadows beside a window looking down onto the butcher’s table in the kitchen you know so well. The two of you watch as Felix pours you a cup of tea, and your younger self pours out your heart.

This time you can hear words between your sobs: almost incoherent confessions of how worried you are about your partner and how confused you feel about your relationship. Which means Talbott must be able to hear them too. He must also hear Felix when he finally speaks into the silence that lingers in the wake of your rambling.

“Y/N, do you think...if you hadn’t met him, hadn’t dated him at school...would you have considered...me when I asked you? As something more than a friend?"

Your younger face scrunches up in confusion. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, I confess, I did fancy you a bit in my first year. Or, did you know that already? I wasn't much good at hiding it."

Felix's face turns bright red.

"I did not," he replies carefully. He tries to hide his blush behind his tea cup, but you see it and giggle around wet hiccoughs.

“There’s a face I don’t see often.”

Felix grins sheepishly. "Then, I suppose I ought to confess that I...I quite fancied you as well."

Your younger self nearly chokes on a sip of tea. "What, when I was 11?"

"No, I mean...for the last few years. Now, in fact."

You stop laughing, and Felix continues hastily.

"I know this might not be the best time to say it, but...it seems like there never is a best time. I've waited for years. I didn't want to - I mean - I wanted to wait until you weren't with him anymore, but Merlin knows when that will be. It doesn’t seem like anything he does will induce you to leave him. But he doesn't appreciate you, surely you can see that now? How could any man be so cold to you? Make you worry like this? Make you wait?"

"So...this whole time..." your younger self says in growing agitation, rising from the chair. "We weren't really friends? You were just...waiting for me to break up?"

"Of course not. I mean, of course we were friends. Are friends," Felix says, standing quickly. "I - I misspoke. I just thought...maybe it would help you to know...you have other options." He runs a hand through his hair. "This was the wrong time.”

"Yes, it was."

"I apologise," says Felix quietly. He looks so unhappy you wonder how your younger self can stand to be so cold to him. It's hard to remember a time when Felix, carefree and smiling, wasn't at the forefront of your desires. But, as you watch your younger self flee the house, you know that in spite of everything Felix had to offer, you had only ever been in love with one person.

"Talbott!"

The memory blurs into another, and your younger self is startled to see Talbott waiting for you in the street outside your flat. It's still pouring, and both of you are soaked to the skin. But Talbott is babbling, something you've never seen him do, and you're too shocked to suggest adjourning somewhere dry.

'I'm sorry," he says, taking your hands and clenching them between his own. "I'm so sorry. I know I'm - I can't say the things I mean. Even when I need to, when it's most important. But I do mean them. I mean... I love you."

"I love you, too," you're quick to assure him.

Talbott shakes his head, water flicking from the ends of his sopping hair. "I've never understood that. It didn't seem real, and... I think I've just been waiting all these years to lose you somehow. But I don't want to lose you. And I certainly don't want to be the reason why I lose you."

Your jaw goes slack. You know you ought to say something in response, but shock has frozen your tongue. This might be the most emotion Talbott has ever confessed at one time. He takes your stunned face in his hands. "What I’m saying is... I mean, I'm asking if you'll marry me."

A little bubble of joy grows in your chest. A bubble you force yourself to pop.

"Talbott, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I just...I love you, so much. And the way you've been recently... I know you're hurting and I don't know why or how to help and it hurts me too, but... you're never going to lose me. We don't have to be married for that to be true. I'm yours, I'm always yours. I promise."

Talbott presses his mouth to yours in a crushing, breathless kiss. His lips know a language that communicates feeling better than his words ever can. You inhale his need for you and return it in kind. The rain dripping into your nose forces you to part for air.

"Please marry me," he whispers into your hair. "I want to. I want you. I want...us."

You can feel the joyous bubble expand within you, pushing everything else aside. Until there's no room for confusion or sadness or fear.

"Do you really mean that?"

Talbott can only nod, his words exhausted. But you see the answer in the spark of his yellow-gold eyes.

"Then, yes!" You cling to Talbott as though the rain might sweep him away. "Yes!"

Tears leak from your younger eyes, lost in the rivers of rain. It's a moment before you realise your older self is crying as well. You sob quietly into your hand, even as the mists swirl about once more, carrying away one of the most meaningful moments of your life. Lost, for so long. Like you promised Talbott you would never be.

How? the word pounds against your aching brain. How? How?

The rain fades into mist and the mist reforms into the inside of your flat. In spite of the light shining through the parted curtains, the room is oddly shadowed. There’ s something different about it. Something is missing you can’t quite put your finger on.

You hear a choking noise and turn to see Talbott, sitting at the table. There's a piece of parchment in his hand. His yellow-gold eyes are liquid, and as you watch, a tear rolls down his sharp nose. He makes another strangled choking sound, and you realise he's crying. Your memories may still be settling, but you're certain you've never seen Talbott cry before. The sight wrenches your heart from your chest. You want to throw your arms around him, even though you know he can't feel it.

Instead, you stare at the parchment in his hand. It begins, Dear Talbott, and it ends in your signature. The writing looks like yours, if a bit tidier than you usually bother with. You scan the contents of the letter, eyes widening with each line. You're leaving? You've changed your mind? You're marrying Felix Rosier, instead? You can't recall ever even thinking these things, let alone writing them down. A phrase jumps out at you from the parchment: You've never appreciated me, I see that now. The words are horribly familiar...and you blanch as you remember where you heard them.

The memory starts to dissolve. You glance around desperately. You want to re-read the letter again. You want to be absolutely sure before you allow the shadow in your mind to take full form. But the flat becomes the entryway to the enormous manor house you know so well. Beside you, Talbott steels himself with a breath, then pulls the bell.

The door opens, and Felix's wand appears first. He holds it just low enough to keep the minimum requirement for civility, but the threat is unmistakable.

"What do you want?" he asks Talbott coolly.

"I want to see Y/N."

Felix's eyes flick briefly over his shoulder as if checking for something. He replies in a lower voice:

"She has no wish to see you."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you like."

Felix attempts to close the door, but Talbott throws his shoulder against it. He squares up to Felix as if he might simply push past him. Neither man is particularly brawny, but Talbott has the height advantage. Their scuffle is quickly solved when Felix pokes his wand directly into Talbott's chest forcing him to step back.

"You did something to her, didn't you?" Talbott says, yellow-gold eyes bright with fury. "You wrote that letter. You...you kidnapped her."

A brief, hard swallow is the only indication of guilt Felix betrays.

"It hardly matters. It's over between you either way. Y/N is safe now, that's what's important. There's nothing you can do."

"You don't care about her safety!" Talbott's voice is almost a shout.

'Don't you dare!" Felix suddenly snarls, shocking both men into a short silence. Felix composes his face and continues more quietly, "Her safety is all I care about. And if it had mattered more to you, perhaps things would have been different."

The glint of concentration in Talbott's eyes is a look you've seen before. You know he's thinking quickly, debating his next move.

"You won't get away this," he finally says, his voice a soft and venomous hiss. "I won't let you."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise."

Without another word, Felix pushes the heavy front door closed. Just before it slams shut, you see a figure dart down the corridor behind him. You recognise your own wide eyes make contact with Talbott's in surprise. Then the mists swirl about you again. This time, they envelope your body like a whirlpool lifting you up, up, up...

Until you’re stumbling out of the Pensieve, reeling and gasping for air. You lean over the table, gripping the edge until your knuckles turn white. You take deep, slow breaths, your eyes closed. Your mind is whirling, frantically sorting through everything you've seen, everything you now remember.

Felix, you realise, and your insides twist sharply. Felix had done something to you. What? Your battered brain supplies a forgotten image of Felix's wand pointed at you, his eyes full of fear and pleading. His mouth moves frantically, but the memory still lacks sound.

Your own name being called tears you from your vision. You turn carefully, leaning against the table for support. The sudden recovery of everything your mind was missing is wreaking havoc with your body. Your knees wobble. You feel dizzy and seasick. And the sight that meets your eyes does nothing to settle your symptoms.

"Y/N!"

Felix says your name again, but he isn't looking at you. His eyes are on the wand Talbott aims at his chest. There are notes of concern in Felix's voice, but his wand arm, pointed at Talbott, is entirely steady. The two men watch each other, tensed for action. Both shoot quick glances your way, but neither can do more without dropping their defence.

"Are you alright?" Felix calls over his shoulder.

You blink, but don't answer. Your mind throbs so badly your vision blurs, but for once you know you can trust it.

"You lied to me." Your voice comes out a croak. You briefly wonder how long you've been in the Pensieve.

"What?" Felix sounds panicked.

"You did this to me," you say slowly, the words leaving a terrible taste in your mouth. You don't want them to be true. But the sound has caught up to the picture in your head of Felix's wand pointed at you. You can hear his spell clearly. "You...obliviated me. You made me forget. How...how could you do that?"

Felix tries to step closer, but Talbott sends a hex at the floorboard near his feet. With a snarl, Felix throws a curse back at Talbott. Talbott ducks and weaves to the side just in time. The spell hits the sofa, sending it flying against the wall with a crash. Both men straighten, and raise their wands at each other once more.

"Stop it!" you yell as loudly as your pounding head will allow. You hold your own wand out, but your arm shakes too much to be menacing. You fight a wave of nausea threatening to capsize your stomach. Both Talbott and Felix turn to you in concern. Felix is nearest. He shuffles backward toward you, still keeping his wand on Talbott.

"Take another step and I swear I will kill you."

You glance up at Talbott. You know from the set of his jaw and the glint of purpose in his yellow-gold eyes, he means exactly what he says.

"No." Both Talbott and Felix drop their wands a fraction, looking at you in varying degrees of surprise. "I want him to explain." You keep your face as expressionless as possible as you fix your eyes on Felix. "I want to know why you did this."

For once, Felix doesn't blush. Instead, colour drains from his face until its almost translucent. And when he speaks, his voice is as unsteady as your legs.

" Y/N, I swear, I didn't want to do it. But I had to! You wouldn't see reason. The Dark Lord, he - he considered you a threat. Ismelda Murk, she told him everything about you - everything you did at school. He wanted you dead, or on his side. I told you to leave...to run...to stay safe. But you wouldn't. You - he -" he spits the word in Talbott’s direction, "insisted you stay and fight.

"And for good reason," you say hotly. "The Dark Lord has to be stopped. He's evil."

"That doesn't matter!" Felix shouts. "This isn't about good and evil, it's about alive and dead. All I wanted was to keep you alive. You wouldn't listen to me, and I didn't know what else to do. I just wanted to keep you safe."

Felix's eyes are anguished, but you feel no compulsion to comfort him. Ice creeps through your veins, freezing your heart, shattering your sympathy.

"No you didn't." Your voice cracks with brittle fury. "You didn't care about keeping me safe. If you did, you would have just wiped my memory and sent me to France or America or somewhere he wouldn't find me. You didn't do this for me. You did this for you." Your voice rises in volume until you're almost shouting. "I chose Talbott. You wanted me, and I picked Talbott and you couldn't stand it."

"Because it's foolishness!" Felix bellows. A shower of red sparks erupt from his wand. "He's a frightened little bird, he can't keep you safe! He flies away at the first sign of a fight. I took you from him, and he didn't even attempt to come and find you. The way I would have. The way I always-"

Talbott's curse is completely silent. Purple light hits Felix in the chest and he falls heavily to the floor. He lays still, eyes closed, and you gasp in spite of yourself.

Talbott sprints the length of the flat in a second. He throws your arm about his shoulder, and half-drags you past the unmoving Felix.

Your stomach heaves as you ask, "Is he-"

"He's not dead," Talbott says viciously. "He's not worth anyone's soul."

You can't reply. Each step you take increases your risk of being sick all over Talbott, so you focus on your feet. Picking up one after the other. As you stumble out the door, you cannot help but look back. The sight of Felix crumpled on the floor sends a crack through your heart's icy veneer.

You want to tell Talbott to stop. You want to come up with a plan; something that will fix everything, the way you always do. But your mind is too exhausted to think anymore. You close your eyes and let Talbott wrap his arms around you, hoisting you down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom, he clutches you against him and disapparates.

You sleep. You don't know for how long. You're looking for someone, someone calling your name. A voice you know... a voice you trust. A face swims into focus and you smile as you recognise it. Then it points a wand at your chest, and the spell echoes over and over in your mind. Obliviate. Swirling mist wraps itself around your body, trapping your arms and legs, constricting your chest, your throat. You're sure your head is about to explode.

You jerk into consciousness, breathless and sweating. You fumble for Felix to wrap yourself in his arms, but the bed next to you is empty. And entirely too narrow to be yours.

Then you remember. You're in the house of an escaped convict who, it was explained to you, had been falsely convicted after being framed for murder by his purported victim, both of whom were also unregistered animagi. And somehow, that's only the second strangest revelation you're wrestling with.

Your wrap the blanket around you and take stock of yourself. Your head still hurts miserably. Most of your body aches as well. But your mind is the strongest it's been in a long time. Sleep has cleared away the last vestiges of fog. You know exactly who you are and what has happened to you. It's a cruel irony then how much you wish the last 24 hours were just an awful dream.

There's a knock at the door. You have no desire to talk to anyone at the moment. You open your mouth to say so when a voice calls, "Y/N, are you up?"

The tension in your shoulders eases a fraction as you recognise who it is.

"Yes. Come in."

The door creaks open slowly and Bill Weasley sidles inside carrying a tray.

"Mum wanted to make sure you ate something. She didn't get to feed you last night, and you know how she is. Thinks you might starve to death overnight."

The sound of Bill's nervous prattle is immensely comforting. Bill, the big brother you wish you'd had. Bill, whose advice you value above anyone else's. For him, you're able to manage a weak smile.

"I don't know if I can stomach anything just at present. But I might take a cup of tea if you have it."

Grinning in relief, Bill sets the tray down on the bed beside you. You take the steaming cup and hold it against your chest.

"So, how are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm..." You want to say fine, but your mouth can't even form the words. You simply stop talking and squeeze your eyes shut again.

"Yeah, that's sort of what I figured."

A few minutes gentle silence rests between you. You sip your tea, hoping the warm liquid will settle the roiling in your stomach. Deep down, you know it's futile. It isn't really your stomach that's sick, it's your heart. But you don't know how to deal with that problem just yet, so you focus on Bill instead.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in Egypt?”

"Oh, I took a desk job to help out the Order. You knew that, didn't you?"

You shake your head. Bill flushes, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Oh. I guess it might have been after you..um..."

It's Bill's turn to trail away.

"I imagine I've missed quite a bit," you say as casually as you can, raising the cup to your lips again.

"Yeah, but...there'll be time to catch up on all that later. Mum isn't going to let anyone bother you till you’re well again. She's been terribly worried about you, you know. I mean, everyone has, but...when Talbott said you'd run off with that Death Eater, I thought Mum was going to march right up to the house herself and drag you out by your ear."

Bill chuckles, but you can't join him.

"How could anyone think I'd really done that? Joined You-Know-Who?"

Bill's face falls. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "No one liked it much. It didn't make any sense. But the way Talbott explained it you'd left some letter saying you...you loved him. And love can make people do pretty mad things."

You can't say anything to that.

"Do you...want to talk about it?"

You shake your head.

"Alright. I'll leave you alone, then."

Bill pushes off from the bed. He sets the tray of uneaten food on the bedside table, and starts for the door. His hand is just turning the knob when you call him back.

"Bill?"

Bill doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. He scoots onto the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You lay your head against his chest, and sob.

For days, you keep yourself locked in the dusty bedroom of Grimmauld Place. Food is brought to you, occasionally by Mrs Weasley or Bill, but you pretend to be asleep whenever they arrive. You wait until after they've left to choke down what food you can stomach. You know you need to eat, but hunger and thirst have both abandoned you.

Occasionally, you hear the sounds of gentle knocking or whispered conversations outside your door. You recognise the voices of your friends, wanting to see you, and Mrs Weasley shooing them away. You're glad for it. You aren't ready to speak to anybody.

Your ailment isn't a mystery to you. You know you're heartbroken, you just don't want to think about why. What does it say about you that you wake each morning craving the presence of the man who tricked you, lied to you, erased your memories? You can barely stomach the knowledge yourself. You don't want to think about what anyone else would say if they knew.

Instead, you sleep as much as possible, and wait for the pain to subside.

You're lying in bed one afternoon, letting the little sun the window permits warm your bones, when you're startled by the sound of shoes outside your door. You close your eyes, hoping whoever it is will see you sleeping and go away. But the door doesn't open. A scraping, scuffing noise reaches your ear. It stops, and the hall is quiet once more.

You wait for a count of ten, then roll over in bed and open your eye just a crack. Something is laying on the floor. Curious, you sit up. It’s a piece of parchment and a quill, stuffed under the crack in the door. You leave the shelter of the bed and tiptoe across the room. You pick up the parchment and read the word, Hey.

For the first time in days, you smile. Turning, you slide down the door and settle onto the ground. You listen to the breathing on the other side, and close your eyes.

This is what it felt like to be you, before Felix. When the only place you could ever imagine yourself, the only place you wanted to be, was with Talbott. The mysterious, awkward boy who tugged at your heart strings. The man that settled your soul and set fire to your body. To be back-to-back with Talbott again is the comfort you desperately needed. It's returning to your own bed at the end of a long, tiring day.

You turn to the parchment on your knees.

Hey yourself, you write and stuff the parchment and quill back under the door.

You can hear the faint scratch of the quill, then the parchment returns.

How are you feeling?

You mark out several answers before deciding on, I don't know.

That makes sense. Talbott leaves a few lines of space before, I've missed you.

You smile sadly. I missed you too.

Really? His reply is an eager scrawl.

Really. Even when I didn't know what I was missing, I knew I was missing something. And after I saw you in Diagon Alley, I knew deep down it was you. Even if I didn't know why. Somehow, this doesn’t seem like enough, so you add, I’m sorry.

It's not your fault, Talbott sends back. His handwriting is even. No ink blots or shaky pen strokes, nothing to suggest the statement is hard for him to admit.

I know, but I'm still sorry.

This time, Talbott's reply takes longer to reach you. So am I. I should have figured it out sooner. I should have known you wouldn't have left like that. I should have come after you.

You hesitate. But the whole point of the ritual is to communicate the things you need the other to know, but are too hard to say out loud. So you let yourself write, Why didn't you?

You can hear by the quill, stopping and starting again several times, how hard it is for Talbott to admit.

I did once. When you first got back from France. I did a fly-by of the house. But you were with him. You looked happy.

You stare at the words. You wonder what moment Talbott had caught you in. You and Felix reading in the study, glancing at each other over the tops of your books? Together at the piano, where you took every opportunity to brush your fingers against his? Dancing in the ballroom? Laughing in the kitchen? Or wrapped around each other in one of a million places all over the house? It makes your face burn to think of Talbott seeing you like that.

"Were you?"

You start at the sound of Talbott's voice as he whispers the words from around the closed door.

"Was I what?" you ask quickly.

"Were you happy?"

You release a long, deep sigh. "I...I don't know. I thought I was happy, but... I wasn't myself."

"Did you really...love him?" The word twists Talbott’s voice. You know how hard it must be for him to say.

"We were just friends, Talbott. I know I should have told you a long time ago, I just-"

"No," he interrupts, "I mean - when you...forgot me. Did you love him then?"

You don't know what to say. "He...he was very kind to me." It isn't really an answer to Talbott's question. But it’s all the confirmation he needs.

"Do you love him now?"

The answer sits on your tongue, heavy and uncomfortable. You want to spit it out, to confess. That’s what the ritual is for. But you can’t force it from your mouth. You sit frozen, unable to speak. You wonder if this is what it’s like to be Talbott.

“Even after you know what he did to you?” Talbott says, unable to keep bitterness out of his voice. “Even though he's a Death Eater?”

"He's not just a Death Eater," you snap. You only realise how defensive this is until it’s too late. There’s no sound from the other side of the door. Talbott’s breathing seems to have stopped. "I mean, he doesn't want to be a Death Eater. He's just...frightened."

Talbott doesn’t answer. You hear shoes slide against the floor. Then footsteps echo down the hall. You strain your ear until the only sound left is your own thudding heart beat. You have to close your eyes again to keep the tears from spilling.

You've spent days so lost in your longing for Felix, you forgot how badly you miss Talbott as well.

Part 3 | Masterpost

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

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Thanks to @plasticdodecagon for the tag! It was so sweet, made my day. Thought doing this might help as I get back into my characters.

Choose your 5 favorite creations (art, fics, edits, etc.) over the past year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world! Tag as many creators as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

From least to most favourite (all HPHM)

5. Happy Christmas Merula Snyde - This was the first thing I ever wrote that got any attention, and it’s still my number 1 most read story on A03. I wrote it in about 20 minutes, and honestly I feel like that shows. I’ve never understood why people liked it so much, and I’ve never been particularly proud of it except that it proves I can occasionally write something under 5k.

4. Dragonology 101 - A big ticket item on my “Things to do before I turn 30″ list was to finish a story, any story, from beginning to end. I loved writing, had 8 million little drabbles and excerpts, but I wanted to sit and finish something to prove to myself I could. I did, and I’ve never been so proud of myself. I go back and forth about whether I think it’s any good or not, but it’s complete and that’s what counts.

3. Necessary Monsters Chapter 2 - This chapter is the first thing I ever wrote about Felix Rosier. It was just a random conversation that popped into my head as I became obsessed with his character, and it was so fully formed it was like I was listening to it instead of writing it. It was the first time I ever understood what authors mean when they talk about characters writing themselves and the author just having to get it all down. Nothing’s ever come so easy before or since, and it was the starting point for all of my Felix stories.

2. In Love & War - This story is the secret lover I met one night that implored me to leave my stable relationship with Necessary Monsters and spend a few wild, passionate weeks with it wherever it would go. It came out of nowhere and completely changed me as a writer. It was the most stressful, tear-riddled thing I’ve ever written, but I would be a very different person if it hadn’t happened.

1. But my favourite thing I’ve written this year is not yet published. It takes place in a later chapter of Necessary Monsters, but I’ve decided to publish it as a teaser since I’m currently so slow to get chapters out (and to prove I really do have this story under control). It is the conversation that inspired the story’s title and sums up its theme, as well as the theme of my own life just at present. It’s the only thing I’ve ever written that has been so personally meaningful that I actually quote it to myself throughout my day.

Juniper, to Felix: “I guess I just don’t want to hate my whole life, you know? Even the bad parts. I want them to mean something. I want to be able to look at them and say they had to happen, that they were necessary. I mean, we don’t hate dragons for being what they are, right? I mean, they’re dangerous predators that would kill us soon as look at us. The best you can ever hope for with a dragon is to appease it, it’ll never really be your friend. But we keep them around. We respect them. Some really strange people even love them. We don’t let them run around free, you know for everyone’s safety, but we don’t begrudge them their existence. Because without them the world would be a much less interesting place. And probably, without our own monsters, we’d be much less interesting people. Or at least that’s how I’d like to think about all this. Some day.”

Tagging: @heiwa457 @iconsumevideogamelore @whatwouldvalerydo @freedomqueen @rompemaldiciones Just to name a few exceptionally creative and inspirational people.

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

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I don’t know if you mentioned this somewhere and I missed it but what is the other smell juniper has thats not lavender that Felix is always smelling? Or maybe its supposed to be a later reveal. Saw it several times and I wondered about it

I apologise that I’m just getting around to this. It’s not mentioned anywhere, it was just a running bit. But here you go:

“What sort of perfume do you use?”

Felix’s face colours slightly as he finally voices the question he’s wondered about for years.

“What?”

“Your perfume. What is the smell supposed to be?”

Juniper blinks. “I don’t...wear perfume.”

It’s Felix’s turn to sound confused.

“Yes, you do.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can smell it on you now.”

Juniper eyes widen.

“What do I smell like?”

“Lavender,” Felix says promptly, managing to keep his blush to a minimum. “But something else as well. I’ve never been able to figure out.

Juniper’s eyes are still wide, but there’s realisation growing in them.

“Ohhhh, I know what it is.”

Felix waits for Juniper to explain.

“I have these satchels I put in my clothes drawers. My mum made them for me when I was little. They're supposed to keep your clothes fresh. They’re full of flowers and herbs and stuff. I know there’s lavender in there. It must be that. I didn’t know it was so noticeable.”

Juniper tries to surreptitiously sniff her own jumper while Felix processes this information. It’s always struck him as strange that someone so blasé about their clothes and appearance in general would take the time to apply perfume. This makes much more sense. But it doesn’t answer his question.

“So, what is it?”

“What is what?”

“The smell. The other smell. Not lavender.”

“Oh that,” Juniper grins. “It’s juniper, of course.”

#felix rosier #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm mc #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier fanfiction #dragonology 101 #necessary monsters #juniper windsong #felix rosier x juniper windsong #fanfiction #backstory #head canons #felix rosier’s amortentia smell #hphm fanfiction #hpma mc

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

Text

When you get a mad idea for a Felix x MC x Talbott fic but you’re only half way through your current one...😳

#guess im juggling two stories now #thats fine i didnt need sleep #hphm #hogwarts mystery #felix rosier #talbott winger #hogwarts mystery mc #juniper windsong #necessary monsters #dragonology 101 #felix rosier fanfiction #talbott winger fanfiction

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

Text

Necessary Monsters (2/16)

Summary:

There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it's almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her face with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear and he can hear her breath catch.

This is not at all how the evening is supposed to go.

In his fantasies of their reunion, Felix has envisioned himself at Juniper's side, regaling her with tales of tracking Peruvian Vipertooths in the wild, roughing it in tents for months on end, wrestling with the dragon that left the long, thin scratch down the side of his neck. He's pictured exactly how her eyes will look, wide and riveted to him, as he casually relates his near-death experiences. To be the center of her undivided attention, that's the feeling he's craved for almost a year now. And he's gone to all the trouble of finishing up in Peru in time to endure a ridiculously stressful Quidditch game, not to mention the loud and over-crowded after-party, all to bring his fantasy to life.

Instead, Felix is left sulking on the sofa nearest the fire place watching as Juniper chats with a crowd of Quidditch enthusiasts, her eyes on Orion Amari as he waxes philosophical. She leans comfortably against the wall beside the common room's stately grandfather clock. Her lips quirk in the slightest of entertained grins as she lifts her bottle of Butterbeer to her mouth and takes a sip. She's positively glowing, the happiness coming off her in waves that bolster the spirits of her surrounding admirers.

Felix is in despair.

It's not as though he hasn't considered worst-case scenarios: that Juniper might prefer to think of him as a sort of surrogate brother, or feel dating him to be a betrayal of Barnaby, her ex and his friend, or, the most horrid of notions, that she might even have feelings for someone else. All these possibilities he’s come to terms with, prepared counter arguments for. It's simply never occurred to Felix he might have any sort of competition.

What began as an embarrassing flight of fancy three years ago has, through their consistent correspondence, evolved into something more, and Felix has finally accepted that the girl he's come to know so well through letters is not only worthy of his affection but might be the only one capable of inspiring it. Now, he realizes he has still been picturing the awkward young teenager he spent so much time with his last year at Hogwarts, with baggy jumpers and unkempt hair and nothing to recommend her to anyone. This young woman, laughing and chatting easily with the people around her, is poised and confident. She has accomplished things, proven her worth, grown into herself. And he isn't the only one who's noticed.

Felix catches Barnaby staring at her, adoration practically oozing from his eyes and lips. Murphy McNully hasn't been more than his chair's width away from her at any given moment the entire evening, following her everywhere she goes, talking a hundred words a minute. And no matter how hard he tries, Felix cannot shake from his mind that awful image of Juniper grabbing Charlie Weasley around the neck.

He scowls into his drink. He isn't prepared for this, and one thing he's learned from years of dealing with dragons is you're always more likely to lose a fight with one when you're on the back foot. It's better to leave it and try again when you have the advantage.

Felix stands reluctantly, debating whether to say goodbye or simply disappear. He casts a last look toward the grandfather clock where Juniper and her friends have congregated, only to discover she isn’t there anymore. A few students in green face paint remain re-enacting their favorite moments from the match, but Orion Amari and Murphy McNully have disappeared as well. Felix’s stomach gives a violent lurch as he considers what this might mean.

A hand on his shoulder causes Felix to jump. He turns to find Juniper, perched on the back of the sofa, smiling face startling close to his own. Her touch is light, but Felix is as incapable of movement as if her grip were iron.

"Have you been over here this whole time? I've been looking for you," Juniper says brightly, eyes peering directly into his. Her eyelashes are darker than he remembers, and he wonders if she's wearing makeup or if that's just something that happens to girls as they get older.

Felix takes a shaky breath, trying to arrange his face into a cool, unconcerned expression.

"Well, you've had quite the crowd of fans, it's no wonder you couldn't see." He tears his eyes from hers to survey the room. "Where is McNully, by the way, I thought he'd glued you to his chair with a permanent sticking charm."

"It's getting late. I had to kick all the non-Slytherins out* before the other prefects cotton on and come looking."

"Yes, an inter-house after-party. I was shocked," Felix comments mildly. He re-seats himself with his back to the fireplace so he can face Juniper, who throws her legs over the side of the sofa and slides down next to him.

"I'm quite proud actually," she says, and she sounds it. "Anyone can celebrate a win, but to get your competition to celebrate your win?" She grins and lifts her Butterbeer in a toast to herself. "That’s talent."

Felix smiles in spite of himself and tilts his own bottle at her in salute.

"Yes, you are clearly talented."

They drink in silence for a moment, and Felix casts his eyes around, trying to distract himself from the acute awareness of her knees so close to his they're nearly touching. Students are still scattered throughout the common room, but it's now mostly smaller groups engaged in private discussions. He notices it's far less noisy than it was an hour ago.

"So," says Juniper, propping her arm up on the back of the sofa and resting her head against her hand. "What are you really doing here?"

Felix's attention is dragged back to the girl across from him, and his heartbeat quickens.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you hate Quidditch. You can't expect me to believe you came all this way just to see the match."

Felix gulps, and hopes she doesn't notice.

“You thought I would miss your moment of triumph?" he asks archly.

"Felix," says Juniper, and he shivers. No one else says his name just like that and Felix has missed hearing it. "You said your interview was in a fortnight and I know how your boss is. You could barely get away to see that girlfriend of yours - what's-her-name- all last year! You expect me to believe he let you off to watch a school Quidditch game?"

The way she's looking at him now - suspicious and concerned, a little amused and something else he can't put his finger on - ignites a fiery excitement in Felix's chest.

"Why do you think I'm here, then?" he asks carefully.

"I don't know." Juniper looks down at the Butterbeer bottle resting in her lap. "I guess it's just one of my greatest fears that one day I'll get a letter from you saying you've decided to give up dragons and go back home and marry some pure-blooded dimwit who doesn't know an Opaleye from an Ironbelly and wander around your giant manor house bored out your mind at some meaningless ministry job.” She says all this a little too quickly for it to be off the top of her head.

Felix stares, momentarily distracted from the sensations she's inspiring in him.

"That is your greatest fear?"

"One of. I said one of."

She breaks into a self-deprecating chuckle that Felix can't help but join. And this is exactly the moment he's pictured for this evening. Juniper's full attention on him, laughing and smiling, conversation flowing between them as easily in person as in their letters. Confidence appropriately boosted, Felix relaxes against the arm of the sofa.

"Well, rest assured, I've done nothing of the kind. They moved the interview to next week. Apparently, the vacancy at the Reserve needs to be filled as quickly as possible and really it's all just a technicality anyway. And I arrived in the country with enough time to make it to the match, so I came.”

Juniper scrutinises him for a moment, trying to determine if he's telling the truth.

"Honestly?" continues Felix, casually laying his arm across the back of the sofa until his hand is just inches away from hers. "I really don't think I could go back now. Working with dragons, it's..." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a word that captures everything he feels about his new life. It isn't the first time he's searched for this or the first time he's come up short. "Just...incredible. Better than I ever imagined."

"I can tell. It's a good look on you," Juniper declares with a lop-sided grin.

Felix can feel heat creep up the sides of his face, and wishes frantically that he knew a spell to keep from blushing. But he's almost giddy at her praise.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah.” Juniper makes a point of looking him up and down in a way that causes the blood to rush out of his face and settle elsewhere. "I mean, you still look like you, just - you know - a bit wilder, bit less refined."

She leans forward, gesturing toward the long, thin scar running down his neck and her hand is only a hair's breadth away from his skin. Felix’s fingers spring up to touch the wound reflexively.

"More scarred, you mean."

Juniper watches him trace the raised line. "I think it makes you look dashing," she says with a wink.

Felix forces his fingers back down and lifts his bottle to his mouth in an attempt to keep her from seeing the foolish grin plastered to his face.

"You look happier than I've ever seen you either. It's nice." Juniper's voice is strangely thoughtful, and something about it causes Felix to lower his bottle and inspect her more closely.

There's a twitch behind her casual smile that he doesn't remember, as though it's harder to wear than it used to be. And there's a hard quality to her eyes he doesn't recognise either. That, more than anything, makes her look much older, and a different feeling stirs in Felix's stomach. It's the same sort of primal concern he felt when Flint shoved her during the match; a base urge to make whatever it is that's hurting her go away.

"You look... tired," Felix concludes, and Juniper laughs, although now he thinks he can hear the effort it requires.

"You are really bad at compliments," she remarks, and takes another swig of her drink.

"Juniper?" Felix clears his throat, unsure how to proceed. This was not part of the conversation he had hoped to have this evening, but it feels suddenly necessary. "How are you... really? With - you know - everything?" he finishes lamely, unable to put his worries into words.

"You're referring to this year's cursed vault debacle, and everyone who’s trying to kill me and my friends, and the whole fiasco with my brother?"

"Yes. That."

"Fine."

Felix raises both eyebrows.

"Really. As fine as you could expect,” Juniper assures him, and if he didn't know her so well he would probably be convinced. "If I look tired it might be because I've had Quidditch trainings every night for the last month as well as exams to study for. I seem to remember you spent much of your sixth year tired as well."

She raises her Butterbeer to her lips again. Felix notices the bottle is empty.

"That's all it is?" he asks skeptically, though he isn't sure what he wants her to say. The idea that Juniper might suddenly collapse into his arms, full of tears and in need of comfort is strangely enticing, but he can't imagine her actually doing so. Three years in the wild among trained Dragonologists, and Felix has still never met anyone stronger than Juniper Windsong. Sure enough, she pulls herself up until her back is ramrod straight and looks him directly in the eye.

"Yes, Felix, that's all it is. I'm done with curse-breaking and vaults and mysteries. You were right all along. I need to focus on my future. That's what I'm doing now."

Juniper sets her empty bottle of Butterbeer down on the table with a note of finality and inspects the common room around her. It's the piercing gaze of a prefect searching nooks and crannies for rule-breaking students, and Felix almost laughs out loud to see it on her face.

She really has grown up, he muses, and suddenly remembers all the things he's intended to say and do this evening. It hasn't gone exactly the way he wanted. He's had no opportunity to impress her; no chance to use any of the stories or carefully-crafted lines he's rehearsed in his few free moments. But he wonders if he can't salvage something of his original plan.

"Speaking of the future," Felix says as casually as he can, setting down his own Butterbeer so his hands are free. "How are you and Barnaby?"

Juniper grimaces. "That's not the future, that's the past. You know we broke up almost a year ago."

"Yes, he's been heartsick all year," confirms Felix.

"He has not!"

"I've a whole host of letters that say otherwise."

Felix means it to sound teasing, but Juniper looks so unhappy he instantly regrets it.

"Don't tell me that," she moans, running a hand through her hair. "What was I supposed to do? At what point should I have told him, 'I don't feel the same way about you'? After another year? After school? After he proposed?"

It's as close to distress as Felix has ever seen from Juniper, and a rush of confidence and courage propels his hand across the back of the sofa to brush against her fingers, currently digging holes into the leather. The brief contact sends sparks dancing over his skin.

"I didn't say you did the wrong thing," Felix says consolingly.

To his utter astonishment and delight, Juniper leans her head down to rest her cheek upon his outstretched fingers, her eyes squeezed shut. And if Felix thought his skin tingled before, it's nothing compared to this. A sensation like lightning surges up his arm and to his head, leaving his brain fuzzy and unfocused.

"I hate that I hurt him," Juniper sighs, eyes still closed.

"He's alright." Felix is careful to keep his voice even. "He's resilient. And he's enjoying his time as a renaissance wizard." His lips quirk briefly at the words.

Juniper jerks her head up to shoot a warning look at Felix. "Don't laugh. He's learned loads. More wizards should spend time in such pursuits."

"You're absolutely right," Felix concedes. Juniper doesn't seem about to lay her head back down, he notices wistfully, but she hasn't moved her hand from where it rests just under the tips of his fingers. He pauses before venturing as casually as possible, "And what about McNully?”

"What about him?"

"Well," Felix draws out the word, stroking the pad of his thumb across her knuckle lightly, impressed at his own daring. "He stayed awfully close to you all night long, and I noticed his commentary seemed a bit biased on your behalf."

"What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes flicking toward his fingers teasing hers. Felix smirks.

"He called you the beautiful, brilliant beater at least three times."

Juniper snorts, shaking her head dismissively. "We're just friends."

"The same way you're just friends with the Weasley boy?" Felix’s heart races as he finally addresses the issue he fears most.

At this, Juniper breaks into a fit of strange giggles. Which isn't quite the emphatic denial of feeling Felix was hoping for. He says nothing, pointedly, waiting for her mirth to cool. When it does, she lowers her gaze to her lap again and chews at her lip in thought.

"I think... maybe, I'm not really any good at...all that." She gestures vaguely with the hand not trapped under his. "I mean, life-and-death stuff I can do, that's easy, but dating?" Her fingers tap nervously against her leg. "Honestly, I think relationships are more stressful than curse breaking or Quidditch or exams. I just don't know if I'm really cut out for...that sort of thing."

"You are," Felix contradicts her, entirely without thinking.

Juniper tries to raise her eyebrows at him, but they remain firmly glued in place and all she manages to do is crinkle her forehead into lines. It's such a familiar expression after all their precarious talk, and Felix is transported back to his seventh year, learning the ropes of dragons with the fourteen year old version of the girl across from him. The girl who nagged him, and frustrated him, and caused him no end of trouble, and eventually, helped him see his life in an entirely new light. Re-inspired by these memories, he slides his fingers between hers delicately, his heart beating double-time.

"It's like a dance," says Felix softly, adjusting himself on the sofa a little so their knees meet. "You just need the right partner."

It's a line Felix has saved for precisely this occasion. It's always sounded good in his head, but something in his delivery feels off. He cringes inwardly, saved from debilitating embarrassment only by Juniper's expression of wide-eyed astonishment. There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it’s almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her eyes with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear. He hears Juniper’s breath catch.

"Ahem."

The clearing of a throat, slight yet somehow sinister, startles Felix so badly he nearly falls to the floor. He turns hastily to the entrance wall where Professor Snape is hovering, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed almost to slits. Felix's face is so hot he's afraid it might catch fire.

"Do excuse me for interrupting," Snape intones in a voice entirely free of apology, "But it is high time Mr Rosier took his leave, as he is no longer a student at this school."

Juniper leans across the back of the sofa to face her head of house, and Felix marvels at how unaffected she seems to be by Snape's sudden arrival, or the intimate moment he's caught them in.

"Professor, do you think if I were to achieve some remarkable Quidditch Cup win that also ensures Slytherin the House Championship, you might let my guest stay a bit longer?" Juniper asks, her face even but her eyes alight with sarcastic humour.

Snape's supercilious expression does not change.

"Miss Windsong, that is the only reason your 'guest'," his lips curl unpleasantly at the word, "is still here at all. And the only thing saving you from detentions every evening now until the end of term."

Juniper throws a quick glance at the grandfather clock and does a double take.

"Merlin's beard, is it really after one?" She jumps up from the sofa and spins around quickly, taking in the disheveled state of the common room.

It's miraculously free of students, Felix realises with relief, and he can only hope it's been empty long enough no one has witnessed the end of their conversation. He gets to his feet awkwardly, smoothing back his hair.

"I apologise, Professor. I lost track of the time," Felix says to the entrance wall behind Snape's head, unable to look the intimidating teacher in the face. He walks quickly around the sofa to the stairs, resigning himself to the fact that he won't be able to say the sort of goodbye he'd like, when he notices Juniper just behind him.

"I'll walk you out,” she announces, with a small wink.

Snape quirks an eyebrow. "It has not been that long since Mr Rosier was last here. I'm sure he's quite capable of finding the way on his own."

His voice is as icily unbroachable as Felix remembers, and yet Juniper meets his gaze evenly.

"Of course, sir, but the halls are dangerous. You never know when some new curse will just suddenly appear. It's really best if he has some protection." And she strides purposefully toward the entrance wall without a backward glance at either wizard.

Not daring to speak, Felix follows her as fast as dignity will permit, passing Snape with a very slight nod. He expects the Potions Master to stop them at any moment, but it isn't until Felix steps through the parting bricks and into the dungeons beyond that Snape speaks again.

"Miss Windsong," he warns, his voice a deadly, carrying whisper. "On no account are you to leave this school, or there will be severe consequences. Slytherin Quidditch champion or not."

The bricks close back up between them as Juniper nods her concession.

Felix is momentarily stunned. He's never known anyone to take such a careless tone with the Slytherin Head of House and live to tell the tale.

"Shall we?" Juniper gestures up the hall with a wave of her arm. Felix shakes himself internally and follows her through the dungeons.

"So, is Snape going soft or are the two of you best mates now?" he asks as they walk. Juniper smiles.

"He's the same as ever, but I think we've reached an understanding. You know, he really cares about his students deep down. "

Felix makes a small noise of disbelief at this.

"Deep, deep, deep down," Juniper amends.

Felix is far from conceding that any level of Snape, no matter how deep, could be described as "caring”, but he's more concerned at the moment with how to recapture the intimate mood he had achieved before they were interrupted. He casts his mind about for an appropriate segue, but Juniper, as always, plunges in first.

"So, whatever happened to what's-her-name anyway, your French girlfriend?"

Felix finds its hard to believe Juniper really can't remember his now ex-girlfriend's name as many times as he's written it.

"Aurelie. And it didn't work out."

"Oh," says Juniper with only the faintest trace of sympathy as they mount the stairs to the Entrance Hall. "Sorry."

Felix snorts unbecomingly. "Really? You only spent a year telling me how I could do better.” He's surprised to see Juniper's cheeks turn pink in the candle light.

"Well yes, I just mean...you know...break-ups are always hard, so I'm just...sorry you had to go through...that."

Her struggle for words, the blush she wears so prettily, and the way she's looking anywhere but at him all seem like encouraging signs to Felix that perhaps, in spite of his inability to make this evening conform to the perfect scene he’s envisioned, it may not be entirely unsuccessful.

"Don't be," he tells her. "No one was heart broken about it, except perhaps my parents."

"Ah, yes. Pure-blood expectations and all that." Juniper grins as they cross the Entrance Hall. "So, they send you any new prospects yet, then? Applications to look through?"

Her question wears the costume of a jest, but Felix thinks he can hear something else behind it and his stomach wriggles in pleasure.

"I've told them I'll be far too busy for the next year adjusting to this new position."

"I'm sure they took that quite well."

"Oh yes, with equanimity."

They reach the enormous double doors and Juniper, slightly ahead of Felix, pushes them open and steps through first, waiting for him to follow. But Felix stops firmly on the other side of the doors.

"Juniper, Snape said you were not to leave Hogwarts. And no matter how chummy you might think the two of you are, there's no way he doesn't get you for that kind of rule-breaking. You'll ruin your chances for Head Girl, not to mention the house points you'll lose. Get inside, now."

There’s something of the prefect back in his tone and expression, but, as always, it fails to intimidate Juniper into obedience.

"Don't worry," she replies, amusement colouring her words. "I'm not bothered about being Head Girl. Rowan's better for it anyway."

Felix crosses his arms and doesn't budge.

"Besides, Snape said I wasn't to leave the school, he didn’t specify the castle itself. The grounds are perfectly safe."

"You've been attacked on the grounds more than once. And not just by students."

Juniper sighs exasperatedly and rolls her eyes.

"I’m sure Barnaby’s accounts are highly exaggerated. And if it will make you feel better, I won't go the whole way, just down to the road, alright?"

Felix hesitates. He isn't ignorant of how dangerous Hogwarts has become in the last two years. There are more than just Cursed Vaults Juniper has to contend with now, and the part of him that feels responsible for her well-being has a definite bad feeling about her walking back to the castle on her own so late.

"C'mon, Felix. I don't really want to say goodbye here in the hall, do you?'

That argument strikes a powerful chord with him. And against his better judgement, Felix allows himself to be persuaded.

"So, do you know how long you'll be in the country?" Juniper asks in a would-be-casual voice as they descend the grassy slope leading from the castle to the road into Hogsmeade. "The term will be over soon, we should get together sometime before you leave."

It takes a sincere amount of effort for Felix to reign in his simultaneous excitement and regret as he admits, "I'm afraid I won't be here past next week. As soon as the paperwork is complete, I'll be heading for Romania. I didn't want to stick around too long and give my parents more time to nag at me."

"Oh yeah, of course," agrees Juniper easily, but there's a very slight note of disappointment in her voice, Felix thinks. The time has come to take a risk.

"But, once I'm settled...you know, it's not like Peru where I was in the wild all the time in tents never knowing where we were going to be. The Reserve is safe. Well, relatively safe. There's lots of people."

He's babbling, which is ridiculous because he's practiced this so many times. It's incredible how much harder it is to focus around her than around man-eating dragons.

"You could always come for a visit, if you wanted."

"Really?" Juniper asks with genuine excitement. "That sounds fantastic!"

Relief prevents Felix from fully concealing his smile. "I know you'll be swamped with your NEWTs, but I thought you might stay for the Christmas holiday. If you're not too busy, of course."

There's a brief moment of hesitation on her part, and Felix forgets how to breathe as the worry he's misread everything that's passed between them this evening constricts his chest like a python. But when Juniper turns her head toward him it's with a grin so wide she hides it behind her hand.

"I would love to, Felix. If you're serious."

Felix stops. He makes a point of looking Juniper in the eye as he assures her, "I'm very serious," and the colour spreading across her cheeks, just discernible by the light of his wand, convinces him she grasps his deeper meaning.

The cool night wind tosses her hair gently, and Felix has a brief vision of his hand reaching forward to caress the side of her face, her eyes widening as he leans in to her, and their lips meeting softly in the perfect kiss he's dreamed of for longer than he cares to admit.

It's the opportunity he's been waiting for, and Felix takes a slow, steadying breath. But as tries to recall the words he's prepared for this moment, he discovers his mind is entirely blank. He freezes, mouth slightly open. He's reminded forcefully of a night years ago when he stood at the edge of a valley overlooking his first ever dragon, desperate to climb in but unable take a step.

After a laden moment, Juniper looks away, blush deepening, and trudges off down the hill.

“Then, I’ll see you in a few months, I guess," she says over her shoulder, her voice pitched higher than usual. "Always assuming next year's drama doesn’t do me in.”

It’s a joke, a throwaway comment meant to ease the tension, Felix is sure, but it prods a secret, highly-sensitive nerve, causing him to wince almost visibly. It frees his captive limbs, and Felix quickly catches Juniper up. He grabs her hand to force her to stop and face him, no longer in a mood to appreciate the way her pupils dilate.

“Juniper,” he says, his voice as earnest as he knows how to make it. “Promise me you're done. Really done. With curse-breaking and-and all the creatures and...you know, life-threatening situations in general."

"Felix," Juniper replies, with a nervous giggle, glancing between them to where his hand clutches hers. "You know I can't promise that. This is Hogwarts! We're always in danger. If it's not Cursed Vaults and assassins, then it's werewolves or yetis or free-range chimaeras." The concern in Felix's face does not fade, and she sighs. "But I promise I'm finished looking for danger.”

"And your brother? You're finished looking for him, as well?"

Juniper stiffens. "That's different."

"Only because it's worse," he insists, but it's the wrong thing to say. Juniper tugs her hand from his and places it on her hip defiantly.

"It isn't a choice. I have to help him."

"Juniper!" Felix's voice is almost pleading, and he would be mortified if this wasn't so important.

She meets his gaze with her patented look of grim, un-swayable determination. It's an expression Felix hated when he first met her, and he feels an echo of that again. It's a defense he's never been able to crack.

"Felix, Jacob needs my help. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. He can't do this all on his own. And I can't just abandon him." Juniper tries to force a reassuring smile. "But I will be careful. I promise."

Uncomfortable silence stretches between them, neither sure what to say next. The sound of rustling grass from somewhere close by causes them both to start.

"I should get back. Before Snape comes looking for me," says Juniper awkwardly, stuffing her free hand into her pocket. "But...I'll see you at Christmas? If you still want me?"

Felix watches Juniper’s face searching his for confirmation, and he sighs.

"Of course," he says, his voice resigned.

Felix watches Juniper climb the hill in the dark with a pang of longing. He briefly considers running after her, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him, making her understand exactly why her safety is so essential to him. But he knows it would be pointless. Schoolboys vying for her affection, Felix might compete with. But he knows there's no argument in his arsenal that will ever convince her to choose him over her brother.

A/N: *Canon divergent: I've always thought it a bit ridiculous for all the Quidditch characters to be in MC's own house, so my own personal head canon is that Murphy McNully is in Ravenclaw, the house I think suits him best.

Read Chapter 3 | View all stories on the Masterpost

#felix rosier #felix x mc #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #jacob's sibling #juniper windsong #felix rosier x juniper windsong #felix rosier fanfiction #hphm mc #hphm #hphm fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #hogwarts mystery fanfic #dragonology 101 #necessary monsters #dragons

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

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Necessary Monsters (8/16)

Warning: this chapter will contain M rated themes including alcohol abuse, sexual situations, and some iffy decisions that I'd like to make clear I do not condone. PLEASE NOTE that just because characters act a certain way does not mean I agree with their actions. While I have refrained from including any smut out of respect for people who don't care for that sort of thing, I did write it. So the explicit version of a certain scene from this chapter can be found in my new story, Advanced Dragonology, which is where I'll be sticking all the smutty excerpts I'm not including in the story proper to keep it from being NSFW. It is posted only on A03 here or Wattpad here in order to comply with Tumblr’s content agreements.

Summary: "That was..." "Unexpected?" "Very." "So, does that prove this is real?" "If I say no, will you do that again?"

Proper socialisation is an essential part of a pureblood upbringing, so in his first seventeen years Felix has attended what he considers an excessive number of parties. Which is why it doesn't occur to him to be nervous until he steps up the squat house's ramshackle walk and realises he has never attended this sort of party: a gathering thrown by young people for young people, specifically for the purpose of "having fun". Although, wincing at the loud thumps of what he can only assume is intended to be music, Felix wonders exactly whose idea of "fun" this could possibly be.

The front door is slightly ajar; lucky, since he doubts anyone could hear a bell over all the noise. There's no host to greet him or make the necessary introductions, so Felix is left to stand awkwardly just inside the run-down east end townhouse, hands stuffed in his pockets and feeling entirely out of his depth.

A quick glance around at the crowd of milling teenagers informs Felix he isn't dressed appropriately. Exceptionally casual muggle attire appears to be the evening's dress code from what he's able to make out. Darkness also seems to be the fashion at this sort of party. There's hardly a candle to be seen anywhere, most of the light coming from a single flickering floor lamp tucked into a corner. There's a thin cord trailing from its base into the wall, and Felix remembers this from Muggle Studies as a tell-tale sign of a muggle invention. He puts two and two together, and his eyes widen in panic.

This is a muggle house; a muggle party. What on earth would Juniper and her friends be doing here? Tonks must have given him this address as a joke.

Fumbling behind him for the doorknob, Felix is just considering what sort of retribution would be fitting for the idiotic Hufflepuff, when a sudden outburst of applause draws his gaze to the corner of the packed room. Half a dozen teenagers are clustered around one garishly-dressed person and Felix's eyes narrow as he recognises the spiky pink hair. Tonks, grinning toothily, throws a jacket over her head then sweeps it off with a flourish, revealing hair, still short and spiky, but now electric blue. Another round of cheering and clapping from the spectators, and Tonks takes a dramatic bow, tripping over her own boot-laces. Felix can only stare, indignation flagging in the face of his open shock.

"Never seen a metamorphmagus before?" says a voice near his ear.

Tulip Karasu appears just beside Felix's elbow, leaning in uncomfortably close to be heard over the din. She's wearing muggle clothes as well, and considerably few, at that, but it's hardly the most concerning thing to Felix at the moment.

"I've never seen a metamorphmagus reveal herself in front of a whole pack of muggles, on purpose and in direct violation of the International Statute of Secrecy, no," he retorts waspishly. His voice is almost lost in the room's overbearing babble, but Tulip seems to understand the gist at any rate. She shakes her head with a wry smile.

"They're her cousins, or something. Her father's muggle-born," she says loudly into his ear again. "Besides, muggles don't believe in magic. Tonks could turn herself into a bear right there in front of them, and they'd still say it was a trick. It's fantastic."

Tulip glances around Felix.

"The rest of the entourage with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know," Tulip shrugs a shoulder. "Rowan Khanna...Penny Haywood."

It's painfully obvious, even in the dim light, that Tulip's nonchalant attitude is all a show, but whatever's happening between the tiny Ravenclaw girl and her Hufflepuff counterpart does not interest Felix in the slightest.

"No. I came alone. To see Juniper." Felix's brow furrows suddenly. "Please tell me she's not outside showing off her Comet 260 or something?"

Tulip's enigmatic smile sours slightly.

"Don't worry. Everyone's favorite curse-breaker is currently getting soused in the kitchen. Drinking contest, I think." Misinterpreting Felix's expression, she adds, "Don't worry. She always wins. Always wins everything, doesn't she?" And she saunters off in Tonks' direction without further comment.

It takes Felix several minutes to navigate the dark, over-crowded hallway and locate the dingy kitchen. He's relieved to find it more brightly lit then the rest of the house, and slightly quieter. A linoleum table takes up most of the room, covered in plastic cups full of unidentifiable liquids. A long bench set into the wall lines one side of the table, and at its end sits a girl with curled hair sipping through a plastic straw directly from a sloshing pitcher. A group of mostly male on-lookers eggs her on, giving a raucous cheer when she finishes. The girl pushes the empty pitcher away from her with a cry of triumph, and it isn't until she looks up that Felix is positive it's Juniper.

"Felix?"

He can't quite hear her over the continued cheering, but he recognises his name on her lips, painted an unlikely shade of electric pink. She's smiling, which might have been a good sign if it didn't seem so vacant, and she gestures at him wildly with a wrist full of clinking bracelets. Juniper's fans all turn to see who's captured her attention, and Felix pushes through them primly, seating himself next to Juniper, rather closer than strictly necessary. He shoots his patented prefect's glare at the gaggle of boys, most of whom take the hint and sidle away.

If Juniper notices her audience disperse, she doesn't show it. She hooks her wrist around a plastic cup and pulls it toward her. She plucks the straw from the pitcher with two fingers, and Felix is pleased to see her grip last long enough to drop the straw into the cup, before leaning down and chugging the drink nearly in one gulp.

When she finally comes up for air, Felix leans in close to her ear.

"Can we talk?"

Juniper turns so their faces are suddenly very close.

"I doubt it. It's quite loud in here." She smiles lop-sidedly, but her eyes are still dark and dead-looking underneath a thick layer of blue powder.

"Then, let's go somewhere else," urges Felix. Juniper shakes her head.

"Half the reason I come to these things is specifically because it's too loud to talk," and Felix has no counter-argument for that.

Juniper drags another cup across the table and leaves it in front of Felix, then pulls a third toward herself and inserts her straw once more. At a loss for anything else to do, Felix lifts the drink to his lips, but he can only take a small sip before returning it to the table in disgust. He swallows hard, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste.

Next to him, Juniper smirks. It's a nasty expression when combined with her empty-looking eyes. She dunks her straw into Felix's abandoned cup and leans over it. The drink hadn't tasted exceptionally strong to Felix, just rancid, but three plus a pitcher in less than five minutes seems dangerous. He's about to voice his concern when Juniper looks up.

"But would you like to dance?"

"What?"

Juniper nods at the dark room just beyond. It's full of people clumped together in groups and pairs, and Felix stares helplessly at the mass of bodies, their movements hardly recognisable as dancing. Even if he had the inclination to join them, he wouldn't have the first idea how to mimic them.

"I - I don't...really...I mean - that's not - "

"Suit yourself," Juniper interrupts with a shrug. She has to climb across him to exit the bench, using his shoulder for support, and once again Felix's entire attention is devoted to the sight of Juniper's legs, now covered only in black stockings. Not the kind worn with school uniforms, but the sort full of large, criss-crossing holes, like netting.

Without sparing a backward glance at Felix, Juniper joins a small cluster of girls just inside the other room, all moving in time with the thudding beat, arms rising and falling, close but not quite touching. Perhaps it's the current lack of blood in his brain, but Felix can suddenly see the appeal of the movements, clearly designed to call attention to certain parts of the body, and for the remainder of the song he's caught up in enjoying the sight. Juniper is smiling, and from here he can't see the haunted look in her eyes, and he can pretend it's the Juniper he knows, enjoying herself with friends like there's nothing wrong at all. Until the music changes seamlessly into a song with a more intense rhythm, and several young men take this as an invitation to join Juniper's group. Far from looking harassed, the girls seem to enjoy the company.

One particular boy positions himself just behind Juniper; far, far too close for Felix's liking. He runs distracted fingers through his hair, that primal call to action he associates with danger to Juniper tugging at him furiously, demanding he intervene. He contemplates whether a banishing charm might go unnoticed in the dark, or a stunning spell. He's just considering whether a Bat Bogey hex is too much, when the boy's hands are suddenly on Juniper's waist, guiding her back against him, and a mad rage erupts in Felix like he's never known. He stands, unsure what he's going to do but determined to do something, and his sudden, sharp movement knocks drinks from the table. In the split second he looks away to inspect the spill, there's a small bang, then a loud scream, and when Felix's head whips back round, the young man is on the floor.

The song plays on like nothing has happened, but the dancers around them have all stopped and stepped back, their collective whispers carrying over the music like rushing water. Juniper's chest is heaving, her head flicking warily from side to side. She reminds Felix of a cornered Vipertooth, evaluating its enemies, searching frantically for an escape route, and something about the comparison and the adrenaline still coursing through him activates his instincts. He crosses the room determinedly, grips Juniper by the elbow and pulls her out of the sea of muttering on-lookers, back through the kitchen, and out a door he hopes is an exit.

The warm night air hits him in the face as they step into the narrow alley between this house and the next, mercifully empty except for rubbish bins. Juniper rips her arm from Felix and totters a few steps away. She leans against the brick of the building, hands over her face, still breathing heavily.

"What happened?" asks Felix, voice calm in the way it always manages to be when he's focused.

"I didn't mean to. It - it just...happens sometimes."

"What did you do to him?"

"Just the Knock-Back jinx. I think."

Felix raises a curious eyebrow. "You can use your wand, now?"

Juniper shakes her head behind her hands. "No. Like I said, it just happens. I can't control it. It's like - being a little kid again, when you're angry and the magic just - just comes out." There's panic or hysteria at the back of her voice, and Felix reaches for his most soothing tones.

'It's alright. I doubt anyone saw you. And you're over seventeen, you don't have the trace on you anymore. You're not in trouble."

Dropping her hands, Juniper stares at Felix and the ice in her eyes make him shiver.

"What would they do, anyway? Snap my wand?" She tries to laugh, but it becomes a dry heave. Nerves begin to threaten Felix's composure.

"Juniper," he takes a step toward her, cautious as if she were an injured dragon. "Why don't you let me take you -" But Felix stops, unsure how to finish. Now he thinks about it, he isn't sure where to take her. The same idea occurs to Juniper.

"Where? To Tulip's house? She'd love that. Her parents don't even know she's gone. And I doubt anyone's been in my family's house in years. Unless maybe Jacob's camped out there." She forces another bitter laugh, clutching her stomach tightly.

"What about Khanna's place, then?" Felix suggests, when inspiration strikes him. "Or Hogwarts! Dumbledore won't mind, I'm sure of it. He's worried about you. Everyone is."

Somehow, this is the wrong thing to say. Juniper snorts, and tries to stand up straighter against the brick wall, an echo of anger flaring up behind her dark eyes.

"No. I'm not going back there. You know they're only worried about me because I'm the Cursebreaker." She pronounces the word like some vile epithet. "You think if they didn't need me for information or weren't worried I might turn out like my brother, they'd care about me at all? Dumbledore or Snape or the aurors? They don't worry about anyone else's safety! They don't keep tabs on Beatrice or any of the other students who've been hurt at the school. It's because they need me to take care of everything for them. That's the only thing I'm good for." Juniper wipes at her eyes viciously with the heel of her hand, smearing blue and black lines across her face. "And I can't even do that now, so, really, I don't matter at all, do I?

Felix shakes his head slowly, taken aback by this heated rant.

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is!" insists Juniper doggedly, wrapping her arms about herself as if the night were cold.

"That's not why I'm here," Felix argues, but Juniper only rolls her eyes.

"You're here because they sent you. If you're really here at all. This whole thing could just be some awful dream." Her words dissolve into a groan, and she slides down the bricks to the ground, arms clenched around her knees. Felix watches her in mounting frustration.

"Juniper, do you realise I left my job to be here? Without permission, without telling anyone. Probably, I'll end up sacked when they notice I'm gone, but I came anyway. Because I care more about you. And you know that I never cared about cursed vaults. I always wished you weren't so wrapped up in curse-breaking. I'm not here to help anyone use you for all that rubbish. I'm here to help you."

Juniper looks up at him, eyes still empty but her mouth trembling slightly. "I don't need help," she says stubbornly. Then she turns and heaves against the side of the building.

It's lucky, thinks Felix vaguely as he kneels next to her, that none of this happened three years ago, before he spent time in the wild. He can only imagine how he would have reacted to a girl vomiting in front of him when he was still at school. But Peruvian Vipertooth venom leaves one exceptionally ill, even after taking the cure, and Felix has spent more than his share of days sick as a pig, waiting for the toxin to leave his body. He's helped others on his expedition team, as well, so he lets practice take over, gathering Juniper's hair back for her and producing a handkerchief from the tip of his wand. Felix waits for the contractions in her stomach to subside, wishing uselessly that one of the bins next to them would suddenly turn into a dragon, maw open and flames spitting. Because that's more the sort of monster he'd prefer to rescue her from.

After a few minutes, Juniper climbs shakily to her feet. Felix takes her arm to help her, but she pulls away, letting the brick wall support her weight.

"I'm fine," she mumbles, wiping her hand across her mouth with a grimace. And Felix's temper, so patiently tamed throughout this entire bloody evening, flares unexpectedly.

"Are you physically incapable of saying anything else?" His sudden shout makes Juniper wince. "Juniper: You're. Not. Fine. And the only person who expects you to be is you. And pretending like you are isn't helping you or anybody else. Now, I can't make you let me help you - and you can carry on acting like a bloody idiot if that's really what you want - but you'll have to put up with me following you about everywhere because I'm not going to let this go."

Felix stops, panting slightly. He pushes back a bit of hair that's fallen into his eye. His anger now vented, he feels like a prat for shouting. He knows being angry at Juniper, so obviously irrational, won't solve anything, and he waits for her bitter retort or angry retreat. But Juniper only shakes her head, eyes still closed, and it isn't until tears leak from under her eyelids that Felix recognises her shaking as silent sobs.

"Juniper," he steps forward and reaches carefully for her, and for once, Juniper doesn't pull away. She leans into him, arms trapped against his chest, and buries her face in his shoulder. Felix can feel her crying quietly. "Juniper, I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No," she interjects, voice muffled against his robes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Felix, I - I'm a mess, I know it. I'm such a mess right now. Everything's just - wrong, and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know why I'm like this right now. I don't know - how I feel or - or anything, and I'm - I'm so sorry."

Felix lets her cry, stroking a cautious hand across her hair. Tentative relief trickles through his veins, giddy and intoxicating, but a part of him can't help feeling ultimately disappointed. Supporting a crying, hopeless Juniper is far less romantic in real life than in his fantasy.

"Come on," he says quietly once her shaking has mostly subsided. "Let's get you out of here."

Juniper lifts her head from his shoulder and dabs at her eyes. "I can't apparate," she admits. Her face is too red and blotchy to tell if the confession embarrasses her.

"We can take the Knight bus. I've never actually ridden it before, but I think-"

"No!" Juniper shakes her head frantically, her curls coming unpinned. "No, please - I don't want anyone to see me like this. It'll be in the papers, for sure. That Skeeter woman's been sniffing around me all summer."

Her voice quavers again, and Felix wraps one arm tightly about her shoulder, pulling her against him to support her weight.

"Alright, alright," he reassures her, coaxing her feet forward. "We'll think of something else." They shuffle awkwardly out of the alley. "Aren't there muggle motors that take people places? Can't remember what they're called. Not buses."

"You mean a taxicab?"

"That's it." They turn onto a road lined with houses, but no motors. Felix guides her down the walk in the direction of city lights.

"How do you know about taxicabs?" Juniper asks between sniffles.

"Muggle studies," Felix admits. "You need at least an OWL in the class to work at the Ministry."

They have to walk another block before they reach a street full of lit shops and the occasional passing motor. Felix flings out an arm and one screeches to a halt. He fumbles with the handle on the door, struggling with the mechanism until the exasperated driver climbs out to assist him, mumbling about drunks. The man eyes Juniper suspiciously as she clambers into the back of the motor, giggling through scattered hiccoughs.

"Where are we going?" she mumbles as she leans back against the plastic covered seats. Felix climbs in next to her, eyeing the inside of the car dubiously.

"The Leaky Cauldon," he says as the driver returns to the front. The man glares at Felix from his little mounted mirror.

"You off your face?"

"Do you know, I've never actually been in the Leaky Cauldron before. Except in passing," remarks Juniper. She inspects the shabby room from her seat near the fireplace, lit in spite of the warm summer night. "It's nice."

"It's alright," shrugs Felix. He wishes he had somewhere more impressive to take her, but his room at the Leaky Cauldron is the only place he could think of where Juniper would both be safe and where they might have an uninterrupted conversation. After washing the vomit, tears, and smeared makeup from her face and having a quiet sit by the fire, Juniper seems in strangely serene spirits, and Felix sits across her nervously, wondering how to broach his desired topic.

"You stay here often?" inquires Juniper politely.

"When I'm in England."

She cocks her head curiously. "Why don't you stay at home?"

"I'm not currently welcome there. Not until I'm ready to 'give up this ridiculous dragon nonsense and return to my family obligations,'" Felix quotes wryly, but Juniper doesn't smile.

"I'm sorry."

Felix shrugs her sympathy away. Silence ticks between them again, and Juniper settles deeper into the winged armchair, closing her eyes. With her elaborate makeup gone, Felix thinks she looks pale again. Her hair has come out of it's pins, and something about the way the new length frames her face makes it seem thinner.

"Why did you cut your hair?" he asks.

Juniper sighs. She opens her eyes, but keeps her gaze firmly on the fire. Her fingers fiddle absently with her fallen curls.

"Sometimes, I sort of...space out. I feel like I'm back there - like it's happening to me again."

"I thought you said you couldn't remember what happened," Felix interjects sharply.

"I can't," Juniper confirms. "Not fully. Not like a story I could tell. It's just...bits and pieces. And they sort of...pop into my head sometimes when I'm not expecting. Or I have nightmares - I don't even know if they're about what really happened or if they're just my imagination - but I wake up and I...I don't know if I'm awake." She shudders. "That's the worst. Not knowing what's real. Not trusting myself. I thought - I don't know - I thought...if something were different about me - like my hair - then... maybe, it would be easier to tell the difference between the past and the present. Does that makes sense?"

"Sort of," Felix agrees vaguely, although he's not at all sure it does. "Does it work?"

"No." Juniper shakes her head. "Not when I need it to, anyway. The whole world just feels so...unreal sometimes. Like, for all I know I'm dreaming, and maybe I just cut my hair in my dream." She sighs heavily, and rubs the heels of her hands against her eyes as if they ache. "Maybe all of this is just a dream."

Worry crawls up Felix's spine. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe I am cursed." Juniper pushes off from her chair and sidles to the window, arms clasped about herself. "Maybe I'm still in hospital and none of this is really happening."

"Juniper," Felix says firmly, trying to call her attention back to him. "You know this is real."

She shakes her head, back still turned.

"I don't know. I don't know what's happening with me. I just feel so..." She leans her forehead against the glass. "I don't know what I feel."

Felix stands, one hand rubbing nervously at the scar across his neck, entirely unsure how to approach this strange admission.

"I think...that's probably normal. Considering," he offers carefully.

"Not for me," argues Juniper, turning from the window and raking her fingers through her hair. "I'm scared all the time. I never used to be scared of anything, and now...I jump at shadows or sudden movement or people touching me unexpectedly." She pushes off from the sill and paces the room in quick steps. "It's like it is in a duel. You know that feeling? When you're dueling someone and your whole body is just ready...ready for action, ready to dodge a spell or attack. All tense, and defensive. But it's like that all the time. I can't shut it off, and it's...exhausting."

On the last word, Juniper leans back against a bed post. "Even when I sleep I have these awful nightmares and I'm more tired when I wake up then I was before. I know it's making me mad. I watch myself acting mad and stupid, and saying these horrid things to people. To my friends. Maybe I have gone mad." She lets her head loll back against the wooden post. Felix approaches her tentatively.

"I think, if you can be worried that you're mad, then you're probably not." He says reassuringly.

"I don't know. None of this seems very likely, does it?"

"None of what?"

"All this? You?" Juniper lifts her head to look at him, gesturing vaguely about the room. "Why would you be here when you're supposed to be Romania. That's not rational, is it? Probably you're just a visual representation of my conscience or better sense or something." She chuffs a mirthless laugh.

"I'm here because I was worried about you," Felix reminds her.

"But isn't that exactly what you'd say if I made you up in my head?" she retorts.

There's something about this abstract train of thought that irritates Felix. It's irrational, which means it isn't an argument he can win with facts. But she's finally talking, perhaps more than she's talked to anyone since the attack, and he's afraid to say anything that might shut her off again.

"So, how can I prove that this is real?" he asks, hiding his frustration. Juniper shrugs listlessly.

"I don't know. Say something...unexpected. Something I couldn't make up."

Felix wants to laugh, wildly. He's full to bursting with things he's never said to her that he's dying to say: that he loves her, that he's never really loved anyone but her, that he'll do anything to make her better again. He screams the words in his head, as if she might hear them if he just thinks loud enough, but he can't force his mouth to speak.

Instead, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her soundly.

A/N If you want the explicit version of this next scene, visit one of the links above, but be sure to return for the end.

It's in no way the perfect first kiss Felix has fantasized about: full of sparks and unspoken declarations of love. Juniper isn't expecting it, so her mouth isn't ready and their teeth clash. A few seconds of decidedly unromantic fumbling, and he pulls away to inspect her reaction.

Juniper's eyes are wide in surprise, but for the first time that day, there's a light behind them Felix recognises. She doesn't move, only stares. She wets her lips, shoulders heaving with the force of her shaky breath.

"That was..."

"Unexpected?" Felix provides when she cannot find the word.

Juniper nods, smiling faintly. "Very." And it's her smile. Her real smile. And her eyes. And the relief is a rush almost as heady as his proximity to her body. Felix's smile in return is small but genuine as he asks softly:

"So...does that prove this is real?"

Juniper meets his eyes the way she always has, quietly confident and determined to get what she wants.

"If I say no, will you do that again?"

This time, it's exactly how he pictured. Juniper's lips are so soft against his, they're almost insubstantial. She pauses after each long, light kiss, lips lingering on his mouth for a moment as if to savor it.

War rages in Felix as he tries to keep himself calm. Somewhere underneath the excitement and relief and joy of finally getting what he's wanted for so long, there's nagging doubts over whether this is really a good idea. But the need for more is stronger. He slides his hands into her hair, pulling her face closer to his to deepen their kiss. There's no resistance. Juniper softens against him, opening her mouth to let him explore. She presses her trembling hands against his shoulders, steadying herself against the onslaught. It's minutes before they break apart for air, still clinging to each other.

Felix wonders if its possible to get drunk from the alcohol in someone else's mouth. It's what she tastes like, and it leaves him heady and unbalanced. It's not at all what he imagined, but what with her has ever been?

Juniper's eyes are glassy as she stares transfixed at his lips, and Felix has to fight a primal urge to press her hips as tightly against his as he can. Some voice at the back of his head is warning him to stop, now, before things go too far. He opens his mouth to find a way to tell her, when Juniper bites the corner of her lip and the words evaporate. Felix grips her waist until she's flush against him, the way he's wanted to do since he saw her at that Quidditch match months ago. She's on her toes to make her body line up exactly with his, and the pressure against his trousers drives him mad.

It's really only minutes, but Felix isn't aware of time as he explores her body. It's another thing he's never managed to picture correctly, but it's better than he dreamed. So focused on feeling everything, Felix doesn't notice when Juniper move her hands until they're against skin. His skin. His shirt is untucked from his trousers, and her fingers slide under the waistband and there's another rush of blood and his mouth is suddenly dry.

We can't, thinks Felix automatically as Juniper's fingers trail across his lower belly, tracing the light outline of muscle. But is there a reason? Or is it only because it isn't usually done this way? There's dates, time spent, he thinks frantically, you have to earn the right. But Juniper never does anything the regular way. And haven't the best parts of his life always started with her dragging him along somewhere unexpected? Then her hands stroke across his hip bones, and Felix's body makes the decision for him.

His hands creep up her legs, where there's more muscle than he expected, and Felix wants to take time to explore them more thoroughly but he isn't in charge of his movements anymore. His fingers are just there when Juniper jerks, and this time her gasp isn't quite the same. There's something less pleasant in it, and Felix's skin turns cold as he pulls his hand back, unable to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

She stifles his apology with her lips, kissing him with new furvour as she fumbles for his wrist, pulling his hand back into place.

"It's good," she murmurs against his mouth. "So good, I've just...I've never actually done...this before."

How hasn't he thought of that? Felix cringes with shame. Perhaps because Juniper was dating Barnaby at the same time he was with Aurelie and so he'd just assumed all relationships follow the same natural progression. True, she and Barnaby were still in school, but that hardly means anything. School can't have changed that much since he left, and students were always finding ways to do this in spite of their prefects' best efforts. It never even occurred to Felix to hope that Barnaby hadn't had her first, he simply chose to overlook that fact in all his fantasies of her. The sudden knowledge that he might be the first, perhaps the only person, to touch Juniper like this is both elating and terrifying.

Felix is suddenly acutely aware of the rickety iron bed, and the peeling paint, and the raucous sounds from the pub below. This isn't romantic. There's nothing about this room or this situation that would make for a beautiful memory. He might be able to see past that, but this is more than their first time, it's her first time. Felix is sure he doesn't understand what that means for a girl, but he thinks, in general, it's supposed to be better than this.

"Juniper,' he mumbles against her mouth. "This-this isn't right."

"What?"

Juniper freezes against him. He can feel her frantic heart beat against his chest, and he wraps his arms safely around her waist speaking into her hair.

"I mean...not like this. You're...this...it's supposed to be...perfect," Felix finishes, thankful she can't see how red his face his. He can feel her giggle, causing her body to ripple against him deliciously.

"Perfect? My life is hardly a novel, Felix."

"Special, then," he insists, his lips now pressed against her ear, searching for a safe place to kiss her that won't add any further fuel to the fire already burning through him. But Juniper turns, on her toes again, so she can press her forehead against his and speak directly at his face in a breathless voice

"It is special. I'm with you." Her trembling fingers slide across his cheeks, burying themselves in his hair. "It should be you. I want it to be you."

If Felix kept a diary, he would have accused her of reading it. How else could she know exactly what he's always wanted to hear? He can't suppress a shaky gasp. His lips brush hers as he asks:

"Are you sure?"

Juniper meet his gaze steadily, eyes dark, but a different sort of dark than this morning. There's something on fire behind them as she nods.

"Positive."

And for all the ways this isn’t how he planned, it's still perfect. Because it's her. It's them. The two of them together, finally joined the way they're supposed to be, as close as two people can get.

A short time later, Juniper shifts underneath Felix as their heart rates return to normal, and he rolls to the side to keep from crushing her. He snakes an arm under her to pull her back against him, not wanting to be away from her body for a second. Juniper curls up half beside, half on top of him, and rests her head on his shoulder, eyes closed and smile tired, and Felix realises she must be nearly as exhausted as he is.

"Juniper," he says softly, trying to infuse her name with everything he's feeling. Any other words would surely sound trite in the wake of what they've just done. Her smile widens, though her eyes remain shut.

"Felix," Juniper answers in a voice as full of meaning as his, and Felix sighs, familiar warmth spreading through his chest the way it always does when she says his name. Only now he has brand new memories of the way she can say his name, and he clutches her more tightly against him, satisfied in finally having one dream play out just right.

Felix wakes up in little waves. There's soft warmth surrounding him he doesn't understand, until the memory of Juniper from last night returns and he smiles. He reaches out to stroke her hair where it lays pooled on his chest and his hands clench against fabric. He opens his eyes. It's a sheet draped across him. And the bed beside him is empty.

Felix shoots up, instantly alert. A quick scan of the room reveals he's the only one in it. Throwing back the sheet, Felix leaps from the bed and searches the floor for his clothes. He has a vague memory of shedding them somewhere around the bed's foot, but they're nowhere to be found. He swivels around, looking for any kind of clue, and this time notices his robes laid across the chair by the fireplace. Definitely not where he let them drop in a careless heap the night before.

An uncomfortable writhing wakes in Felix's stomach as he tugs on his trousers. This is not how he was hoping this day would begin. He fumbles under his robes for his shirt only to find it isn't there. He barely has time to contemplate this new mystery when the door opens and Juniper enters, a tray with two steaming cups and a plate of scones hovering beside her. She starts upon seeing him, cheeks turning rosy, and Felix realises she's wearing his shirt on top of her skirt and stockings from the night before. The look is less openly suggestive than her sheer blouse, but he finds the sight of her in his clothes impossibly arousing.

Juniper's thoughts seem to be somewhere near his own. She grins sheepishly, still blushing, and turns to push the door closed. The tray makes its own way to the little table near Felix and sets itself down.

"Morning," says Juniper, and her voice is almost bright. So much like what Felix remembers of her, and he wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He settles for smiling at her as she lifts a mug from the tray. It's a beer mug, he notices, the kind with a large handle on the side and she threads her entire hand through it, balancing the other side with her wrist. His smile falters a little.

Juniper plops heavily onto the edge of the bed, curling her legs up underneath her and breathing in steam from the mug. Felix glances wistfully into the remaining cup, a regular tea cup, and entirely bereft of the coffee he craves. Forgoing drink, he sits down carefully beside Juniper, self-consciousness beginning to twist his stomach into knots. There's no reason he shouldn't be allowed to lean across and kiss her, surely? But something about her sipping tea, eyes wandering everywhere but at him reminds him too much of mornings with Aurelie, and the memories play havoc with his confidence.

"How are you feeling?" he asks uncertainly, watching Juniper sip her scalding tea without a wince.

"Honestly?" She ponders this a moment, before replying candidly. "Awful. Absolutely miserable. The worst I've ever felt in my life, I think." She takes another sip of her drink before adding, "But, if I can admit that, then I guess I'm a good sight better than yesterday, right?"

Juniper looks at Felix as if in confirmation, but he isn't sure what to say. His face is blank, an exact match for his current thoughts. Juniper sets her mug carefully onto the floor.

"Had to borrow your shirt, I hope you don't mind," she says, interrupting the awkward silence, and beginning to undo the buttons. "I had to run a quick errand. And I thought Tom might chuck me out if I showed up downstairs like this." She indicates the ridiculously thin and clinging fabric underneath his shirt that served as her blouse from the previous evening.

"Of course not," murmurs Felix. It's a moment before he processes her words, distracted as he is by her new state of undress, but before he can ask any questions, Juniper continues.

"I may need you to conjure something up for me to wear, if you can. I've got a fair bit to do this morning and I can't do it in this. And I don't really carry my wand much anymore," she admits with a small, resigned smile.

This rouses Felix from his stupor. He scoots across the rumpled sheets to sit closer to her.

"Juniper, it's...good that you feel a bit better, but you really shouldn't overdo it. If there's things you need to do, let me take care of it. You need to take it easy for a while. Get back to Khanna's before that Auror - Moody - finds out."

This time, Juniper's smile reaches her eyes. Which still seem tired and sad, but no longer have the terrifying dead look of yesterday.

"Felix," she begins, then shakes her head as if overcome with what she has to say. "You are...extraordinary. But you can't do everything for me. I've got about a dozen apologies I need to make and they need to be done sooner rather than later. Starting with you."

"Me?" Felix raises his eyebrows in surprise. "What for?"

"Everything." Juniper shifts on the lumpy mattress to face Felix more fully. "Ignoring you. Worrying you. Making you come all the way up here. Just being stupid and selfish. You've no idea how embarrassed I am about all this."

"You don't have to be embarrassed," argues Felix, but Juniper interrupts, face screwed up as if in pain.

"I could have cost you your job, Felix!" she exclaims. "You've given up your whole life for this job, and worked so hard, and this is the second time I've almost jeopardised that. But I promise it's the last." She takes a steadying breath and picks at the fabric criss-crossing her legs. "Look, I'm not pretending like - like I'm better or-or back to normal or anything, I know I'm not. I don't even know what normal looks like for me anymore. I'm sure it's not what it used to be. But, I think...I might be past the worst of it now. Entirely because of you." Juniper shoots him a small, embarrassed smile. "I think... I'm thinking more clearly than I have in a while, and I- I know the direction I need to go, even if it's going to take me forever to get there. So you don't have to worry about me anymore. And I- I just need to know that nothing's changed - between us, I mean."

Everything in Felix's chest crumples. His insides sinking toward his feet, leaving his legs heavy and leaden and his head too light. Keeping upright is suddenly the only thing he can concentrate on. Juniper, still looking determinedly at her legs where she's plucked a hole in the fabric of her stockings, notices nothing.

"I know I've still got a long way to go, and I think the only way I can get through it is if I know that you're - that we're - still friends. That I haven't messed that up being...being stupid."

She finally lifts her eyes to peer furtively into his face, and Felix can't imagine what it looks like now, but it feels like it's been turned to stone.

"Of course," he hears himself say, and Juniper sighs, shoulders relaxing in relief.

"I know it doesn't make up for everything I've put you through, but," she fumbles with the waistband of her skirt, retrieving a small slip of parchment. "I've got a portkey all arranged for you. It's set up to leave in an hour, and it'll actually take you inside the Reserve itself. Or it should. I've got it from a, well, a source that owed me a favour, and he's really only semi-reliable at the best of times, but he staked his hoodie on this portkey working, and that's really the highest promise I could wrench from him."

Felix listens to Juniper prattle on without really hearing. At some point, she pauses, and inspects his face more closely.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Felix can't respond. He doesn't feel anything. He feels nothing when they say goodbye, a brief embrace and an awkward smile all Juniper is willing to bestow. Nor when he arrives in Romania, marching straight to the Peruvian Vipertooth grounds to relieve Rashbold, who is fortunately too exhausted to ask many questions. Felix continues to feel nothing as he takes the next shifts, his body going through the familiar motions without the help of any conscious thought. It's only when he returns to his quiet, dusty room, crawls under the tatty sheet of his camp bed, and buries his face in his pillow that tears finally come.

Read Chapter 9 |Here’s the link to the Masterpost.

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