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evergone · 3 months

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Lonely

Theodore Nott x Legilimens! reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Description: The reader has no friends until destiny (in the form of a boy named Theodore Nott) does everything to make her feel like she belongs.

In your first year, you were put in a dorm by yourself. You heard so many times that this was a gift — a sign of your good fortune, Professor Trelawney said — as everyone else in your year group had to share with someone else, but you, the introvert you were, were left to your own devices. Despite these assumptions, you quickly discovered that sharing a dorm was central to establishing friendships, and you spent the vast majority of your high school life friendless and alone.

At times, your boredom and your loneliness were so all-encompassing that you would read the minds of the first years who you knew wouldn’t be capable of sensing the imposition upon their thoughts. None of them thought of much. The boys were preoccupied with daydreams of girls and music (most of them were very into hip-hop as was the popular culture of the nineties), and the girls were nearly all stressing about parties and school work.

You were as much at ease with your situation as one could possibly be. You were of the mindset that if there was nothing you could do about it, why bother? Everyone had their cliques, their friends, and you were just the one to be left out. Your only goal was to get through the remaining year, then you would leave school, rent a house somewhere obscure, become a writer or an archaeologist or something else fun, and start your life over again. But it appeared that destiny had other plans.

Destiny, that supreme, omniscient, omnipotent concept that dwindled above and twisted within the interactions of all peoples, came to you in a free period you were spending in the library. The period before had been Charms, but that was of no consequence, neither was the fact that you had no more classes until later that night when you would make the journey to the Astronomy tower. You were sitting at a desk in the far left corner of the library, tucked between the pages of a number of books written by Z-named authors of some incredibly niche portion of history when Madam Pince’s high-pitched and troubled voice disturbed your rather unproductive attempts to finish your homework.

Ever bored, and hardly ever entertained, you leant to the side to see around the long bookcase. To your surprise, your eyes immediately met with a pair of blue ones. The irises were mere spots lost in the oceans of colour and they darted between you and Madam Pince, desperate for assistance. Behind those eyes, you could hear his mind asking for your help. If you was slightly smarter, you would’ve avoided this person’s gaze altogether and returned to your work.

“Madam Pince,” you said before allowing yourself a moment to think, and the frustrated librarian’s head turned to you in owl-like frustration, “Is everything okay?”

“Not at all,” she said, her voice an angry whisper, “Mr Nott should be in class, instead, he’s here violating my books!”

You glanced at the owner of the eyes. The green lining of his robe told you he was from your house, so you knew him even if only from afar. He hung out with the big group of your housemates most of the time, but you’d observed that he often sat by himself in the common room and the others intruded on his personal time. He was tall — probably six feet or so — and thin, with hair that was darker than blond, but most definitely not as dark as some of his friends’ hair. In the traditional sense, he was handsome, but you’d heard him speak in class before, and his voice bore an awkward intonation as if to speak was to curse which made him seem almost as nerdy as yourself. Despite this, every movement he made seemed elegant no matter his emotion, this was so inherent of a feature that even in that moment — when he was so clearly itching to turn and run — he was like a swan. His name was Theodore Nott, and you’d never spoken to him before.

“He’s supposed to be helping me with my homework,” you blurted out and Madam Pince quirked a pencilled-on eyebrow, “You know I’m terrible with, uh, Ancient Runes.” You both had that class together.

“Yeah,” nodded Theo as he stepped around her and stood by your side, “The professor said it was okay, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“As am I,” she frowned, “Tell her not to let this happen again.”

“Yes, Madam.”

With an irritated hum, she left the two of you alone. Theo turned to face you once she was out of earshot, and let out a sigh of relief before sitting down on the edge of the desk you were at.

“You’re in Slytherin,” he said obviously, “What year?”

You sucked in a breath of air, “Sixth. Yours.”

“Oh.”

His brain exploded with a million thoughts at once, his conscious and subconscious fighting for dominance. You could hear the embarrassment as he reprimanded himself for not knowing, and the confusion as he searched his memories for some sign that he had, in fact, seen you before.

“We have Potions together, and Astronomy, and Divination, and Ancient Runes, and… most of our classes, actually.” You shrugged without a care.

Theo cringed, “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.”

“I don’t really make my presence known,” you said, “So don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Theodore Nott,” he introduced himself, hand outstretched towards you, “What’s your name? I don’t want to make the same mistake next time.”

“Y/n L/n,” you said and shook his hand. It was soft and had no callouses at all.

“I best be off, I’m missing Arithmancy.”

“Boring.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled and left the library.

Over the course of that afternoon, you were unable to tear your mind away from Theo, and none of your homework was completed as a result. You didn’t go to dinner in the Great Hall. Your mind was much too preoccupied to eat.

At eleven-thirty, your alarm sounded, and you washed your face in preparation for Astronomy. Professor Sinistra demanded that all her students wore their uniforms for her classes, even if said classes were at midnight, but there wasn’t a single person who ever did that other than Hermione Granger. Everyone else tended to pull their robes overtop their pyjamas and call it a day, yourself included.

The lesson wasn’t all that interesting as Sinistra had the class chart some stars for the whole hour. However, you barely managed to get anything done because you were so distracted by Theo who was sitting peacefully at the opposite side of the tower amongst his friends. Including Theo, there were five of them (you didn’t include Crabbe and Goyle, who you always thought were less friends than goons, or Millicent Bulstrode or Tracey Davis, both of whom you knew were periodically hated by the others). Two girls, three boys.

Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and finally, Theo. At seventeen, his hair was a mostly consistent length of woody brown curls that sat fluffily on his head — if anything it was maybe a bit shorter on the sides. His eyebrows were thick as they always were, and in that particular Astronomy lesson, they were hard pressed against the tips of his long eyelashes that seemed almost too feminine to belong to him. By far the most intriguing and attractive aspect of Theo was, of course, the prominent mole on his left cheek that stole your attention away from a tight-lipped smile he had thrown your way.

Your immediate reaction was to blush and avert your eyes, but upon glancing back and noticing he was still staring, you offered him a short wave. He nodded in response before turning to Draco and saying something too far away for you to hear.

The next morning, or, perhaps, later that morning is the right expression, you went to breakfast in the Great Hall. Not having eaten dinner the night prior had left you so completely starving. You could’ve eaten a pegasus. You sat down on the edge of the Slytherin table by yourself, and loaded a plate with two eggs, about five slices of bacon (it very well could have been more, your memory isn’t perfect), a piece of toast, and a spoonful of baked beans.

“Where are all your friends?”

You looked up to see Theo standing over you chewing on the end of a breadstick.

“Why do you ask?” you questioned.

“Because you’re sitting here by yourself and it looks a bit pathetic, L/n,” laughed Theo teasingly.

“I don’t really have any friends.”

“Oh,” said Theo, “Sorry I asked.”

You shrugged, and as he glanced to the middle of the table you shoved as much of the baked beans into your mouth as possible, and quickly swallowed them. Merlin’s beard, you were so embarrassed.

“Give me a sec,” he said absentmindedly and you almost thought to use your Legilimency on him, “I’ll be right back.”

He placed his breadstick in front of you as if it were a deposit meant to reassure you that he’d be back, but you weren’t fazed either way. You watched as he jogged over to his group of friends and started chatting with them, but never sat down. With his right hand, he motioned back at you, and you glanced away as the rest of them turned to get a good look at you. Suddenly, you were concerned about how well your makeup was applied, and if your uniform looked good, and if there was still too much food on your plate. And then, all of them stood up with their plates, and followed Theo over to sit around you.

Most of them sat on the other side of the table, but Theo sat next to you, and Blaise by his other side. He introduced you to everyone: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, himself (“but you know me already,” he’d joked).

“It’s crazy to think we don’t know you despite being in the same house as you for the past six years,” said Daphne and Pansy elbowed her in the waist, sending her a death glare.

“Excuse her,” Pansy smiled awkwardly, “She’s a bitch.”

Your ears tickled at the word. You weren’t used to people calling those they were friends with such vulgar names… You weren’t used to the idea of friends at all.

Draco started rattling off about half-bloods and “that darn Potter,” spurring his friends into a rather heated conversation. They laughed and cackled loudly at each other, entirely easy around you as if it didn’t matter at all that they didn’t know you.

“Is this okay?” Theo asked you in a whisper once the group had moved on to another topic of conversation.

“Yes, this is nice,” you responded with a blush over your cheeks as you tried not to smile, “I don’t remember the last time I spoke to so many people.”

Theo’s eyes softened, glazed with a thin layer of water that informed you of his empathy. He felt your loneliness as if it was his own. The image of a young version of himself locked in his bedroom, wailing for his long deceased mother, flashed in his memories and seeped into your brain. An involuntary consequence of your extraordinary Legilimency talent.

When Saturday finally arrived, you slept in the whole morning. You only awoke at the sound of a knock on your door followed by a series of laughter at ten o’clock. You rolled out of bed, and for a moment stopped in horror of your hair in front of the mirror to quickly tie it up, and then opened the door.

You were surprised to see Pansy and Daphne there, but even more so when Daphne asked, “It’s Hogsmeade day, why aren’t you ready?”

“Huh?” You said, squinting at the light of the hallway.

“Theo sent us up to grab you, get some clothes on and let’s go,” said Pansy as she pushed past you and slipped into your room, Daphne hot on her heel, “Merlin’s beard, there’s absolutely nothing in here.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve got it all to myself,” you muttered.

“Oh, that’s got to be terribly boring,” said Pansy.

Both of the girls made themselves at home as they rummaged through your drawers looking for something nice to wear. They were both dressed very well themselves, and it made you a little self-conscious to think they were going to see all your cheap clothes.

Pansy threw a sheer white shirt you didn’t know you had and a pair of bootleg jeans onto your bed while Daphne kicked over some matching joggers and a big white handbag you’d stolen from your mother.

“It is terribly boring,” you said.

As the three of you descended the stairs (after you got dressed, of course), you could already hear the sounds of masculine voices teetering on yelling at one another. One of them you knew to be Theo’s, and while you weren’t particularly familiar with them, you were inclined to assume the other two voices were Draco and Blaise. At the bottom step out of the girls’ dormitory hallway, you were proven correct when you saw them bickering like old men at a weekend golf tournament.

Draco was the first to notice the three of you, and his grey eyes lit up at the sight, “L/n, come settle an argument for us.”

You walked to join the small group and stood beside Theo, your handbag held meekly between your fingers, the nails of which had magenta paint flaking off them.

“Your mate Theo here—” Draco gestured to him with an uninterested hand, and you nearly laughed at the idea that Theo was your mate more than he was any of the others’— “Thinks that we ought to have a Legilimens registry like we have for Animagi. Frankly, I think it’s absolutely blasphemous that we even have one for Animagi; let them run wild, I say! What are your thoughts? Don’t mind the coincidental pun.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit biased in this conversation,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you mean?”

The faces of the group stared at you with raised brows, and eyes that glistened with interest, and you were red from the attention.

“Well, I’m a Legilimens,” you admitted, “So, I’d have to disagree with you, Theo, for my own sake.”

“Are you really?” Theo asked to break the silence, and you nodded shyly.

“That’s so cool!” Daphne all but squealed, “What number am I thinking of?”

“Seven.”

She brightened with delight, and slapped Pansy’s arm, encouraging her to try your magic out like a little game. Pansy did just that, and you ended up going around the whole group, describing what they were thinking of. Eight. Twelve. Bakery. Seven. And Theo was questioning why you weren’t already on the way to Hogsmeade.

With that final thought, they grew disillusioned by the game, and you began the walk to Hogsmeade.

You’d never been into town with other people before, not that you went much at all. You usually stayed in your room, or wandered the halls, towering over the first and second years who weren’t allowed to go on weekend Hogsmeade trips yet. But there you were, forming one kink in a string of knots engaging in stimulating conversation about the current condition of the world, and even boring conversation about the homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts which, to you, seemed so thrilling even if only for the fact that it was verbal discourse in some form. You’d forgotten what it was to converse with others.

“Is there anywhere you need to go once we get there?” said Theo once you were nearing the end of the path and closing in on the town.

“I would have been awake before Daphne and Pansy got to my room if I planned to go anywhere today,” you joked and he smiled, “If you don’t mind, I might just go wherever you go.”

All he offered in response was a hum, and it left you thinking that you’d somehow made the air around you awkward. You’d later come to learn that he was just like that, never much of a talker if he thought the situation didn’t call for it.

Almost instantly after you passed sign that read ‘Welcome to Hogsmeade,’ the group dispersed, and Theo and yourself were left to do as you pleased.

Your companion, it seemed, didn’t have much he wanted to do either, so he led you to the Three Broomsticks. Kindly, he offered to pay for a butterbeer or two, but you didn’t think you were close enough for that, so you humbly told him it was alright. You sat in relative silence until our drinks arrived when Theo struck up some conversation.

“What have you been doing all these years by yourself, L/n?” He asked.

“I don’t know… Stuff…”

Theo laughed, and you laughed along with him. Your mind was frazzled by the alcohol, which kept refilling itself as you chatted on, and every so often you found thoughts that didn’t belong to you creeping into your mind, but you couldn’t place who they belonged to. It was just the odd word — sad, or pretty, or damned, or Y/n.

“Nott, are you and Malfoy good friends?” You asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You seem to argue quite a bit.”

“He’s just like that,” said Theo, “Likes to start shit for no reason, that one.”

You giggled, and he grinned happily. Another person’s thoughts seeped into yours once again, that time a full sentence: ‘I love her laugh.’

The bell that hung over the entrance to the Three Broomsticks jingled, and though you couldn’t see it behind you, you watched as Theo’s expression morphed into one of guilt. You turned over your shoulder, and made out the figures of the four people who had come with you. Each of them were wearing a disappointed look on their faces.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?” asked Pansy, her tone equal parts concerned and amused.

“Nothing,” said Theo.

“Yeah, if ‘nothing’ is code for drinking all day,” said Blaise, “Snape’s gonna have your asses for this.”

The others guided yourself and Theo back to the castle. Your hand was attached to Pansy’s forearm, Theo’s arm was slung over Draco’s shoulder. By the time you reached the Slytherin common room, You were sober enough to move on your own, and thus, started your way up to your dorm.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked curiously. He was far away enough that you couldn’t smell his breath which stunk like the vomit he’d expelled from his body halfway through the walk back.

“My room,” you said.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head and then closed his eyes from the dizziness. “It’s sleepover night. You have to come to our dorm, I made room for you on my bed.”

“I used to sleep there because he’s got the best mattress out of the three of them, but we figured you might prefer to sleep beside him than Blaise,” Daphne explained.

“Oh,” you breathed, “Do I need to contribute anything?”

You hadn’t had a sleepover before. You didn’t know the proper protocol. You assumed one would need to bring at least their pyjamas and a pillow, maybe some sweets of some kind to share. But Theo shook his head, and you were in the boys’ room before you knew what was happening.

The boys’ dorm room was the opposite of yours. So exquisitely full, and intricately messy. The three beds were all the same size as yours with dark green bed hangings, and each about a metre apart.

Closest to the door and to their small shared bathroom was Theo’s bed. On the right, beside the door to the bathroom, he had a tower of books that acted as a wall. His sheets were black, but his pillows and blanket cover were a dark oceanic blue-green. There wasn’t much room, but you spied a large mess under his bed which you assumed was what he’d removed from the bed to make space. On his bedside table sat a small lamp that provided the only light in the room before Daphne declared it was far too ‘dark and gloomy’ and turned on the central light.

On the floor, directly under the light, there was a large medieval-style rug that bore our house crest, and the others sat on it lazily, ushering you over.

“I need a smoke,” said Draco, and he walked over to the window where the ashtray was.

“Me too,” said Theo as he also moved to the window, “You want one, L/n?”

“I’ve never smoked before.”

“Then I shouldn’t get you in the habit,” he smiled, “It is such a terrible habit to have. Costs more than it’s worth.”

He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Draco, and they both lit them with their wands.

“Does it taste nice?” You asked.

“Not particularly,” said Theo.

“Why do you do it then?”

“You’re so curious, L/n,” Draco teased.

Theo playfully slapped him on the chest, “Leave her alone,” he said, and then turned to you, “I’m an addict.”

“That’s got to be bad for your lungs, Nott,” you frowned, suddenly concerned.

“Don’t you worry about him,” said Pansy, a knowing smirk on her lips that told you she was well aware you’d continue worrying.

The night went on much shorter than you wished for it to. You’d hoped, perhaps too eagerly, that none of you would ever sleep. Far too much did you enjoy being awake with those people who you’d met too late in yout life. You were truly happy to have met them because for all the simple joys you’d managed to discover in your time alone, none were half as happy as those grand joys you found with them

You all took turns getting changed in the small bathroom (Theo lent you a shirt to wear), then you all slid into our respective beds. You were nervous about sleeping beside Theo because, in truth, you didn’t really know him. But he placed a pillow between you, and only faced you for a moment — a moment in which there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher, a moment in which you attempted to read his mind all too late — and then he kissed his fingers, and he touched them to your head, and he turned the other way.

“Did you sleep well?” Theo said once he noticed you were awake the next morning.

“I’ve never slept beside someone before,” you explained nervously, “I think it was a decent experience. I hope I didn’t move around too much.”

“Not at all, L/n,” he said.

A hum escaped your mouth, and you were acutely aware that Theo was watching you as you stared up at the roof of his room. Painted on it, Sistine Chapel-style, was a beautiful lush green forest.

“L/n. It’s so formal to call you by your surname.” Theo let out a disapproving tut.

“I call you by yours?” You said as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“You’re the only one who does.”

“It’s your name!” You raised your voice slightly before lowering it again so as to not wake any of the others up. “What else am I supposed to call you?”

“Theo,” he said, “That’s what everyone calls me.”

“And what false-name shall I bear, then?”

He chuckled quietly as he finally sat up. He raised his long arms in a stretch that exposed the bottom of his stomach and his V-line, and you glanced away until he returned his arms down to a cross in front of his chest. You took notice of his hair, which was awfully messy in the morning, and you thought he should get his hands on a bonnet to take care of it, but then you thought he probably shouldn’t. A silk pillow would’ve done him wonders, though.

“A nickname for Y/n,” said Theo, “How about Y/n/n?”

“I suppose that will do,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, but inside you were screaming with excitement. A nickname! You’d never had a nickname before.

“Oh, you suppose, do you?” he teased.

Your amused smile betrayed your insincere attempt at a pout, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t let anyone else call you Y/n/n, alright?” said Theo, and you crossed your brows in question, “I want it to be just an us-thing. They can call you your full name at most.”

He was extraordinarily bossy. But it was sweet. Heartwarming, even.

“Wait, but if everyone calls you Theo, I want something just for us, too!” You blushed at how overly familiar that sounded, but Theo’s rosy cheeks filled you with conviction. “How about Teddy?”

Giddily, he smiled at you, “Say it to me in a sentence.”

You frowned, but obeyed, “I like being your friend, Teddy. — How was that?” He nodded happily, “You say one for mine, now.”

He thought for a moment, trying to decide on a sentence to say.

“Read my mind, Y/n/n.”

Always, he had to boss you around. But, again, you really didn’t care. It was just nice to have someone to boss you around. To think that only at the beginning of that week, you had no friends at all… Now you had so many, and all thanks to destiny. All thanks to your Teddy.

A breath, and then you forced your way into his mind. There was a picture there waiting for you, a memory from Monday. A memory of you, except, you seemed to glow. You’d seen yourself in a million mirrors and memories over the course of your life, but never had you looked so beautiful. And then, there were words.

“I’d like to go on a date with you, Y/n/n.”

Your eyes snapped open as you left his thoughts to belong to him alone.

“What?” You asked, your ears red.

“I think you’re absolutely brilliant, Y/n/n. Please, go on a date with me?” Theo smiled.

He inched closer until your noses touched and you could barely tell each others’ features apart. Each of you were just blurs of colour.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Teddy.”

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phas3d · 2 months

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Toxic Traits || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: manipulation, violence, almost dubcon (theo)

contains :: tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

summary :: their worst toxic traits - i always see these but it's the same stuff everytime and i wanna add some new traits that are toxic imo (i need goddess by laufey to come out RIGHT NOW IM SOBBING ON THE TOILET)

TOM RIDDLE overly controlling

You knew that getting with Tom meant a lot of things about you would need to be changed in order to fit his life style, because God forbid he change himselfIt was foul tasting, you went into this knowing how bad Tom was yet still craved him like how little kids eat slime.

Quitting some clubs was fine, you didn't care for them that much anyways and hanging out with Tom in the library to sit in silence was SO much more fun.

Seeing your close friends was out of the picture completely because Tom didn't understand why you would need anyone besides him. Having friends was an indirect insult to him since it mean he wasn't fulfilling you enough.

Picking your own clothes was banned from day 1 once you got together, because how you were perceived also reflected onto him. He was head boy after all, he had a reputation to keep up. Not to mention he was the future heir to Voldemort's evil plan, meaning you needed to be perfect in every way.

Everything you said from now on would be chosen by Tom. Every morning Tom would cast a spell to be able to enter your brain so he could give you every answer to say. It didn't matter that it was potions class or flying class, he would tell you what to say.

If he had any reason to believe you were being mischevious or planning anything without his knowledge, he would use "legilimens" at any time of day when he wanted to, because he had a right to your own mind. He forced himself in your brain, viewing every traumatic event and happy event you've had. And if he didn't like those memories, he would change them.

At first you thought he would take your traumatic memories, making you happier and fuller of life. But, he took your happiest memories and mended them to fit his face into it. Memories of your mother brushing your hair and calling you beautiful were wiped away and replaced with Tom calling you beautiful, despite him never ever saying that.

Dating Tom leads to you becoming a shell, an empty hallow shell with no life besides the life Tom planned. And no matter how much you tried to fight back, rebel, or plead for mercy, it was too late. Once you agree to be his, he forever has ownership of you.

MATTHEO RIDDLE violent habits in front of you

Fighting was one of Mattheo's hobbies, no matter how much you begged him to stop. At first it was cute, he was saying it was so you could fix his wounds and so he could protect you from creeps. It was the first time you've ever felt protected by someone, safe to walk out at night and safe to wear whatever you wanted.

But overtime, his anger was seen in more places than you predicted. Gaming was a small one but you knew it was possible. He lost a game whilst playing with his friend and he angrily shoved him while laughing. You just though the was playing rough, but his friend got up whilst gently holding his new bruise that Mattheo just made. Mattheo said sorry and the two made up, simply "boys being boys".

In sports you would see this a lot too, but it was expected. He was the beater on the Quidditch team making him bound to be aggressive. But once Slytherin was down 50 points, he began to take matters into his own hands. He chucked a ball straight into the benched already injured Gryffindor team, earning him a red card and being benched himself.

Beating his own dorm room was unexpected since the dorms would heal any imperfections daily. But when you went to his dorm, you saw the huge holes in his wall that pierced through the drywall and almost into the brick walls behind it. He shrugged it off when you questioned him, saying he always does that to relieve stress when he runs out of weed or alcohol.

You ignored all of the red flags but then his ex girlfriend reached out to you over text. She wrote a long message sharing how Mattheo was toxic in every way possible. How he would gaslight and lie to her constantly, how he would cause scenes in public to embarrass her, and how he almost hit her. He got so angry to a point where he swung at her but she dodged it, running away from him and instantly telling the first professor she found.

After that, she broke up with him but he wasn't done with her. He spammed her with countless texts and calls, all of which were threats in some way about how if she ever spoke up he would find her. He even sent his friends to watch over her since the school separated the two. He even

THEODORE NOTT will cheat on multiple times (and guilt tripping)

He was one of the most wanted boys in Hogwarts, so when you started dating you felt honored. Out of all of the girls he could have chosen, he picked you and wanted you. Of course a few girls began to become bitter towards you but you didn't care, they were irrelevant anyways.

Everything was perfect in the beginning. He showed you off, went to every event you had, and even took you on multiple shopping sprees to buy whatever you wanted. Compliments from him would come every hour and each was sweeter than the last. It was just like the fairy tales you read and the ideal couples online.

But as time progressed, he wanted to do more too quickly. To him, sex was just a casual thing he could have whenever he wanted. But to you, it was much deeper and you wanted to have more time, which was completely reasonable since you've only been dating for about 3 weeks.

You expected him to be understanding like he usually was, to reassure you it was okay and he would wait. But instead, you met a shocked Theo as he shook his head to snap out of it. He asked you again, to double-check that you weren't joking and when you repeated yourself he was even more surprised. He scoffs, as if you just insulted him and he poked his cheek with his tongue.

From that day on, you noticed a shift in his attitude. His hourly compliments turned from hourly to 3 every day to 1 every day to none. His hugs and kisses were completely limited and only done when he was in public. Hanging out became rare, meaning you only saw each other during your shared classes.

You did everything you could to get him back, needing his love once more because you knew no other boy in this school was capable of treating you as well. But no matter what you did, he never was as sweet as he once was. It hurt, but you knew exactly why he was acting this way and you felt guilty despite knowing you shouldn't. So you decided to let into his wishes, allowing him to have sex with you.

You went to his dorm, ready to talk to him about it and give him consent (which you barely felt). But as you stepped into his already open dorm, you saw him banging some other girl on his bed. The same bed you two used to cuddle and laugh on, the same bed that he brushed your hair so delicately on, and the same exact bed where he first ever said "I love you".

But for some reason, as if he casted a spell on you, you couldn't bring yourself to feel angry at him but only disappointed in yourself for not fulfilling his wants. The girl in his bed scrambled away, throwing on random clothes and apologizing to you as she ran out whilst Theo sat there staring at you with a cold and emotional look.

His eyes were something you loved dearly about him because they were so filled with emotion, as if his soul was trapped into his eyes. You always hated when people said their eyes changed colors, but Theo's genuinely did.

And from his eyes, you could tell everything he wanted to say without even hearing his voice. You could hear the silence. The piercing silence in the room silently said, "It's your fault for not letting. I needed it and you couldn't fulfill what I needed, so I got a replacement."

You were hoping you would hear him say "It's not what it looks like!" or "I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me!" but he didn't say anything, no defense. If anything, the pure embracement of his cheating was 100 times more hurtful than denial.

But for some strange reason, a stupid and idiotic voice came into your head to forgive him. To give him what he wants to keep him. To give up your whole self to secure the temporary happiness he would offer.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE prioritizes everything but you (and love bombing)

Everyone views Lorenzo as the boy who shouldn't be in Slytherin, the only good one, the pure and cute-sy one. But as you got further into your relationship, you realized it was simply an act. It wasn't fully wrong, Lorenzo did have sweet parts in him and he was better than 70% of the Slytherin boys but he still had major flaws. There's no way a man can be friends with Mattheo, Tom, and Theodore and not be toxic as well.

At first, he was amazing to you. Flowers, chocolates, dates, movie nights, and so much more. It was like the dream rom-coms you watched growing up. But overtime, he stopped showing love to you and focussed his attention back into his life.

You tried your best to be understanding, but once again you sat alone in your own room crying as you scrolled through everyone's Instagram stories. Post after post featured Lorenzo surrounded by girls and guys, drinking, smiling, and dancing. But you weren't even invited or even told of it at all. But Lorenzo seemed to be having fun.

It was like this every day for months on end as you waited for the sweet Lorenzo you once loved. It was as if his plan was just to woo you in and then continue on with his perfect life. All he needed to do to make it even more perfect was secure a beautiful girlfriend and then he was set,

No matter how much you begged or cried for him to come back, he never did. Not even when you were on your knees begging for him to at least spend the night with you because you missed him. He rolled his eyes and comforted you, obviously wanting to leave the entire time. His words were so perfect yet his facial expression and body language lacked, making you question how easy it was for him to say the perfect words only to never mean it.

Even when you threw up from stress of school work and insecurities stacking up on you, he sighed and held your hair back. His touch was so warm, you've been lacking it for ages. But once you barfed again, he instantly groaned and let go of your hair, letting your hair fall into your face and vomit. He quickly ran to the sink to clean himself and then leave the rooom, disgusted by you. He left you there, alone on the cold bathroom floor to clean yourself up.

Even when you were sobbing and having a full blown panic attack, he wasn't there for you. Your knees were shaking and you could barely stand, feeling as if your entire body was no longer yours. Air was impossible to collect into your lungs as if they were never inside of you in the first place. Tears streamed so heavily down your face that they crawled down your neck and your collarbones. But he never wiped a single tears, instead handing you a box of tissues while he stared at you with no expression on his face. Although your brain was running 100 miles per hour, you could tell his face was a mix of disgust and pity, as if he was a doctor helping his crazy patient.

And whenever you did try to leave, wanting better for yourself- he never let you. Once you'd say you wanted to leave, he'd get teary eyed and beg on all fours for you to take him back, chanting how he was so blinded and stupid and stress and blah blah blah. Yet you fell for it every time, because you knew that once you took him back it would be the honeymoon phase once again.

One time you did fully break up with him, tired of the mistreatment and love bombing. But once you went to class you saw everyone's eyes on you, whispering to each other about how you were apparently a "crazy ex girlfriend" who made Lorenzo ball his eyes out. When you went to confront him, you saw him panicking and barely being able to breathe: just like how you were when you begged for him to love you.

#slytherin boys #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x y/n #angst #harry potter #harry potter x reader #one shot

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year

Text

Legilimens

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Tags: explicit | smut | dominis | sort-of voyeurism | light choking

2.3k words

A/n: Here we go again.

Ominis was far from an ordinary wizard—as a pureblood descendant of Salazar Slytherin, he was a Parselmouth, meaning he had inherited the ability to talk to snakes. He was born blind but Ominis didn't often see this as a handicap—he had his wand which had formed a unique bond with him, enabling him to navigate more easily around the world. He had realised from a young age that he also possessed another rare ability, though it had been many years until he learned it had a name—sighted wizards would call it Legilimency. It was something you could learn, but some people were born with the talent, including Ominis. He had consumed books about Legilimency as soon as he arrived at Hogwarts, burying himself in the library for days at a time in an attempt to understand it more. But, Ominis was not a normal wizard, and thus his Legilimency was not entirely usual.

The literature often highlighted the need to maintain eye contact in order to probe the mind of the subject. The eyes were the window to the soul, after all. What Ominis experienced was different to most accounts he'd read, whereby the Legilimens was able to view memories in vivid detail—his was more of an innate empathic ability to feel emotions attached to thoughts. This could be intensely uncomfortable as he felt others' emotions as if they were his own. If he focused on a person sufficiently, all the better if he were able to touch them, he could hear their memories. He had tried this on Sebastian, with his permission, of course—being able to enter his mind was disconcerting for the first time, like wading through a turbulent sea with a wicked undercurrent, each wave a new memory or subconscious thought. It had left them both with a headache, and Ominis a new appreciation for his friend's experiences.

Ominis rarely thought to use his ability—though his empathic ability was incredibly useful for detecting deception—until he met you. You were an enigma—when you arrived at Hogwarts, Ominis had scoffed at everyone's enthusiasm for the new fifth year, the new subject of gossip. Your entrance had been legendary, and the gossip thickened with rumours of your daring battle with a troll, your ability to wield an ancient type of magic. You were also seemingly impervious to Sebastian's charms. You were, like Ominis, nothing but ordinary—you were a truly extraordinary witch.

Ominis found his interest in you grow exponentially. He wanted to know more, but he had the distinct impression that you were less than willing to share what you deemed to be superfluous details. Ominis supposed that attitude came with being so extraordinary, that your more mundane interests were buried. But Ominis wanted to know every minute detail. And so, for the first time in years, he considered using his gift.

The first time the thought crossed his mind was during a particularly boring History of Magic lesson. You sat next to him, as you most often did, trying to stay awake, as most of the class often did. Ominis was bored, and curious, so he reached out with his mind, listening to the sound of your breathing and eventually found you. Ah yes, there was the boredom. Ominis smirked and chuckled softly. He heard you shuffle in your seat, the brush of your hair against your robes as you turned your head towards him. The change in your thoughts hit Ominis like a broom to the face, the unexpected shift to the overwhelmingly visceral feeling as you looked at him had his heart pounding in his chest—arousal. Ominis wasn't sure he'd understood the feeling at first, though the tightness in his trousers was certainly an indication that what he'd happened upon was intensely pleasurable.

Ominis felt his cheeks burning as he shuffled in his seat, the friction against the fabric making him ball up his fists in frustration. He knew he should stop, but how could he now? He heard you fidgeting next to him, tapping on the desk with your finger, and focused on you again. There you were, your aura—he reached out and found the jumble of thoughts and memories, at the very forefront of your mind was your current train of thought, tantalisingly close. Ominis continued to pull at the thought and was completely unprepared for what he found.

"Please, Ominis, touch me," your usually strong and confident voice whimpered.

He heard a muttered reply, in his own voice, but it hadn't come from his lips.

"You're so wet, you naughty girl. Have you been thinking about this all day?"

Ominis pulled away from your mind, his head spinning and gripping the edge of the desk in front of him. It took every ounce of willpower for him not to gasp out loud as his cock twitched eagerly in his trousers.

"Are you okay, Ominis?" you asked from beside him.

"Yes, just a headache," he managed to reply.

"Me too."

Ominis had felt intensely guilty for probing your thoughts, though his intentions were innocent—he was just curious, he wanted to know more about you and your interests. Given what he now knew, the urge to find out more was almost overwhelming—he wondered if what he'd heard had been a one-off, fleeting thought.

You arrived in the common room that evening with Sebastian, chatting animatedly about a book you'd found in the restricted section of the library. Ominis frowned but didn't press the matter, the last time you two had been in the restricted section all hell had broken loose a few months later, but you were both so intensely curious people with a thirst for knowledge. As was Ominis, though his curiosity was almost entirely focused on you. You settled down onto the sofa next to him, the sweet scent of your hair wafting past Ominis' nose, as Sebastian took the armchair opposite.

"What are you up to, Ominis?" you asked.

"Just a little light reading," Ominis replied, patting the book on his knee, though truthfully he'd just been daydreaming about you.

"I need to start our History of Magic essay if you want to join me?" you asked.

"Yes," Ominis replied, far too quickly. "May as well make a start."

"Coming, Sebastian?"

"Mmm? Oh, no, you go ahead, I want to read more of this book," he replied.

Ominis privately thanked Sebastian's intense interest in the new book as you fell into step with him, walking down the hallways to the library. The room was quiet, even by library standards, and the study area was almost empty, with only a few whispered voices coming from the bank of desks. Ominis settled into a chair on the table furthest away from the chatting students and you sat next to him, pulling books, parchment and quill from your bag. Ominis had no intention of studying, however, though he pulled his own supplies from his bag and lay them out on the table in front of him, opening the book and pointing the tip of his wand at the contents page, then flicking to the section on Goblin riots.

Your breathing had settled next to him as your hand flicked through the pages of your book and your quill scratched on the parchment, scribbling furiously. Ominis pointed his wand at his book but didn't cast the incantation to read the text, instead turning his attention to you. It was easier to find you now, your familiar aura and the feel of your mind. Ominis slipped into your thoughts with much less effort this time, ignoring your concentrated efforts on the incredibly boring essay and instead delving deeper into your memories. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, only that he would know when he found it. He caught glances of your childhood, your time at Hogwarts, and Ominis felt a pang in his stomach as he heard Sebastian's voice and the unmistakable sound of him kissing you. Ominis withdrew, but he was lost amongst the turbulent wash, until he clung onto something familiar—himself.

His voice was unmistakably his, but it was saying words he had never said—this wasn't a memory, this was a fantasy. The rush of euphoria hit him, the unmistakable, hungry wanting was intense and addictive to witness. Your voice was breathy, moaning his name over and over again and whimpering softly. Ominis' face was burning, the blood rushing to his cock as he tried to control his breathing.

"If you don't stop whining I'll have to gag you," Ominis' rough voice said.

You whimpered again and Ominis heard the unmistakable slap of skin on skin.

"I told you to be quiet," he growled.

Ominis heard your muffled protests before he withdrew again from your mind, rather more forcefully than he'd intended.

"Argh, my head," you moaned next to him.

Ominis' own head pounded, the pressure behind his eyes intense. His heart was racing trying to make sense of what he'd witnessed, but he couldn't concentrate. He'd never felt such intense frustration as his erection throbbed painfully under the desk. He reached down and adjusted himself, letting out an unintentional gasp at the touch.

"Ominis…?" your voice whispered next to him.

Ominis groped along the table, finding your wrist and pulling you to your feet. He gripped his wand and led you out of the study area, pulling you roughly alongside him out of the library and towards the one place he could guarantee some privacy.

"Ominis, what in Merlin's name is going on?" you asked.

"You'll see," Ominis replied.

By the time you both stepped into the Undercroft, Ominis was absolutely feral. He pinned you against the cold stone wall, his shaking hand tracing from your chest up to your neck, where you gasped, your arousal so obvious even without Ominis' empathic ability. His fingers gripped you under your jaw and his lips found yours, sucking on your lower lip eagerly. Your lips were so soft, your tongue so wet and inviting, eagerly licking Ominis' lips between erratic breaths. When you whimpered, the sound was already familiar but so very exciting, and Ominis found himself tugging at the clothing beneath your robes, discarding your tie and breaking more than a few buttons in his haste to remove your shirt. The rest of your clothes followed as Ominis threw off his own robes and your hands tugged eagerly at his trouser buttons.

His hand on your jaw ran down your neck, and oh, you liked that. Ominis' hand stilled, his grip tightening around your windpipe and pressing you lightly into the wall. Ominis was careful, he didn't want you hurt, but you were obviously enjoying it. From what he'd seen, he'd figured out your particular sexual proclivities, and Ominis was more than happy to abide by your desires. Your hands had finally managed to tug down his trousers, his painfully hard cock released from the restrictive fabric, and Ominis groaned at the release of pressure.

"Get on your knees," he growled, releasing his hand on your neck.

You were more than eager to do as you were told as Ominis felt the grip of your small hand around his shaft and the exquisite warmth of your mouth enveloping his cock, your soft tongue twirling over his sensitive head. Ominis groaned and laced his fingers in your hair, pulling your head towards him until he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, good girl," he muttered.

Your moans were music to his ears as his orgasm built quickly with every eager movement of your head. Ominis groaned as he teetered close to the edge, but he wasn't ready for this to end—he wanted you to be satisfied, after all.

"Get up," Ominis said.

The suction on his cock released as you stood up in front of him and Ominis ran his hands over your naked torso, your skin pricked with goosebumps from the cold air in the cavernous room. He found your soft breasts, and the erect nipple that he took between his thumb and forefinger, teasing it as your moans rang in his ears. Your hands were in his hair, your lips on his neck, running soft kisses along his skin and nipping just below his ear. Ominis shuddered and his hands headed south, roughly pulling up your skirt and tugging at your underwear. You pulled them down, allowing him access to between your legs, where Ominis was greeted by the warmth and wetness of your arousal. Ominis parted your lips, running a finger over your swollen clit as you shuddered beneath his touch, sliding his digit inside you. He added another finger, your soaking entrance stretching easily to accommodate them.

Ominis was dizzy and feverish with want. He'd never imagined he could have this effect on you, and it was exhilarating how your normally composed and intimidating exterior crumpled at his touch. He removed his fingers, running his hands around your waist and gripping you by the flesh of your behind, lifting you off the floor and pinning you with his weight against the cold stone wall. You made a surprised sound and gripped his shoulders as Ominis lowered you onto his cock.

"Oh, fuck, Ominis," you gasped.

Ominis grinned as he thrusted into you, moaning from the tightness around his head. He knew he wouldn't last long, you felt too good, but he had one thing he wanted to do first.

"Shut up, or I'll have to gag you," Ominis rasped, replaying the memory of your fantasy.

You whined loudly in response as your walls contracted around his cock, tipping him over the edge, releasing his pent up desire inside you as you both gasped for breath. Ominis' arms were shaking as he withdrew from between your legs and lowering you to the floor, leaning his head against your forehead. You brushed your lips against his as your hands ran over his torso gently.

"Merlin, Ominis, what was that?" you gasped.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy it? It's like you've been in my head," you laughed.

Ominis bit his lip but kept his silence—some things were better kept secret.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt smut

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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 4 months

Note

Share your lastest WIP! If you want 👀

which one 🥲😂😭💀 i have a few - will this do?

“They’re quite odd, aren’t they?”

Abraxas is snickering when he says it. He’s just loud enough to grate - nothing new - but in what should be the quiet sanctity of the library, his tone sufficiently pulls Tom from his reading.

His eyes lock on Abraxas across from him and flick to the ‘they’ in question.

And, of course, it’s the Grangers.

Since entering the magical community, Tom has learned a thing or two about their societal norms. An interesting component being that it is surprisingly challenging to be seen as ‘odd’ here. A wixen can be any number of things: lazy, stupid, poor, muggle - the list goes on, but ‘odd’ is a category used sparingly when directed towards each other. Much unlike the muggles Tom has known and grown his whole life around.

He was always seen as odd by them - freakish - and continues to be whenever he returns to the orphanage for summer. So he doesn’t much care for the word.

Besides, if anything, the Grangers aren't even worth gawking over and snickering about. Their worst can be summed up to anti-socialistic, codependent, and exclusionary behaviours - probably a trauma response from the war. They clearly have no interest in playing house with their dormmates or the rest of the school, so why bother?

They are sitting beneath the second-story stair landing where the elves have managed to shove one last table. It’s one of the more tucked away and private places on this level — a place Tom would not consider and will not consider; he needs to be visible, available — and they’ve claimed it like it’s never belonged to anyone else. Like it was placed there just for them. Their ease of acclimation to Hogwarts as a whole has certainly raised some eyebrows, yet still, he isn’t concerned.

He had also known Hogwarts was his home the moment he had stepped foot in it, after all. He is not so foolish as to believe himself an outlier.

Hermione Granger’s hands are waving wildly, turning in circles and gesturing in a vague sphere-like shape. She’s talking aloud - not that Tom, or anyone else, can hear it - and doesn’t seem to like what she’s saying, given the harsh line between her brows. Ronald Granger is sitting in front of her and starts shaking his head. He says something and reaches across the table to take her wrists — expands them — the sphere becomes an oval.

Harry Granger sits beside them pensive, with his head down and reading carefully from a book in his hands. He starts to turn the page but pauses; he frowns and looks up.

He looks right at Tom.

Granger blinks once, slowly. He mouths something, but it’s not directed towards Tom because his siblings turn to look at him. It only lasts a moment before they suddenly turn around to stare at Tom as well, their eyes wide and alarmed.

Tom watches on as Harry Granger slouches - maybe sighs? He shakes his head and palms his face in something like dismay. It doesn't take a legilimens to read his lips now—

“You are both such idiots.” He says.

The corner of Tom’s lips curl. It’s possibly a smile. He’ll never call it that out loud.

“Very,” he finally replies to Abraxas.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #my fic #unnamed fic #pov: tom #knights meeting #555 words exactly #must be a sign #if you believe in that sort of thing #thank you for sending in an ask - i won't lie when i first saw it i wasn't going to post anything because i only read the first part #and i was thinking - no one shall demand anything of me #but then i saw the second half #😂😂😂😂😂#also this should look familiar #i've posted something related to it before - but i've made changes #for starters i gave them all hermione's last name instead #at the hour i am posting this - hopefully no one will see it 😂

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hpsaffics · 9 months

Text

💋 WLW Wed: Fake Pretend Dating 💋

A biweekly HP femslash rec list made by the lovely members of the HP SAFFICS (18+) discord server. See all previous rec lists in the WLW Library.

Currently: Fake Dating Previously: Pride (see list)

—

💄 Long (>10k) 💄

Killing Me Softly by @looktotheedges [Hermione/Narcissa, M, 96.7k]

When Ginny gets hurt in a wronski feint gone wrong, Hermione is on hand to take her away from the swarming fans and straight to a quieter part of St Mungo's. Where the only mediwitch around is Narcissa Black. Healer and master legilimens. And apparently Hermione's thoughts are rather loud. Oops.

Distractions by @morningsound15 [Hermione/Ginny, T, 86.7k]

Ron and Hermione have recently broken up, and Ginny — concerned for her best friend — has decided that the only thing for Hermione to do now is to date someone new to make Ron jealous. And who better than Hermione’s best friend (and coincidentally Ron’s younger sister) to drive him absolutely mental?

sometimes you amaze me by burstofpeony [Hermione/Pansy, T, 54.3k]

Hermione’s on track to become the youngest Minister of Magic in history. There’s just one issue-- the polls hate her. Well, the polls hate her gayness, specifically. When a solution is presented that could fix everything, who’s she to decline?

Rumour Has It by Melacka, @artymakeart, @showknight [Hermione/Ginny, T, 31.2k] WITH ART!

Ginny accidentally outs Hermione to the whole Wizarding World. Fake dating shenanigans ensue.

i was born for this by toulouser [Marlene/Dorcas, T, 18.7k]

The one where Dorcas becomes Remus' fake girlfriend to make Sirius jealous. Turns out, she was trying to make someone else jealous as well.

Trust A Few by @violetclarity [Hermione/Pansy, T, 13.2k]

Hermione has a pregnant adopted sister, parents who don’t believe she’s bisexual, and a crush the size of the Great Lake on Pansy Parkinson. Taking Pansy up on her offer to be Hermione’s fake date to her parents’ Christmas dinner could solve at least one of those problems...but it could also make everything worse.

—

🌹 Medium (3-10k) 🌹

Sincerity of Feeling by @bafflinghaze [Fleur/Hermione, G, 5.6k]

“That is correct. I am going to the Yule Ball with Hermione Granger. Now run along, you little boys.” She flipped back her hair and strode past them, and this time, stopped for none.

Catching the Snitch by abluestocking [Padma/Ginny, G, 5.5k]

In which a Ministry dinner, a sibling rivalry, and a Quidditch tournament changed the course of Padma Patil's life in a way she never expected.

she wears shorts skirts by @thelizbian [Marlene/Dorcas, M, 5.3k]

Regulus Black- Dorcas's best friend and next door neighbor, 4.5 GPA despite skipping a grade, soft at heart. Marlene McKinnon- Cheer captain, popular, smart, perfect. Dating Regulus? James Potter- Captain of the football team, popular, rich. Unlikely ally? Dorcas Meadowes- Confused as fuck.

Slytherin Altruism by @owlswithfins [Hermione/Pansy, T, 4.3k]

Suddenly someone slid into the booth across from her. “She,” the woman corrected, setting down her purse and smoothing her skirt. “Sorry I’m late, babe. You know how it is down at the Prophet.” Hermione’s mouth fell open as she stared dumbly at one Pansy Parkinson.

—

🍷 Short (<3k) 🍷

campanula by @fullmetalruby [Fleur/Tonks, G, 2.9k]

Campanula (bellflower)-- representative of gratitude, humility, attractiveness, and everlasting love.

Rescuing Pansy by anxiousgoat [Pansy/Tonks, G, 2.4k]

In which a sad Pansy is comforted by a hot genderfluid stranger who is very very happy to help her out.

Two Truths and a Lie by @karasunova [Hermione/Tonks, G, 1.5k]

It began with a favor, as these things are usually wont to do. (in which Hermione enters a fake dating scheme which turns into a real dating scheme which turns into much more than she bargained for)

More Than Just Maintaining Cover by knowyourincantations [Tonks/Ginny, M, 1.4k]

Tonks and Ginny frequently go undercover as a couple, but they've never had to sell it like this before.

—

👠 Want more Fake Dating fics? 👠

Fake/Pretend Relationship: Tag on AO3

WLW Library: Tumblr | Tag | AO3

#hp saffics #hp femslash #hp wlw #wlw wednesday #wlw library #fake dating

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drarryficrecs · 2 years

Note

can you rec some fics with good, intricate plots? at least over 100k

These are my favourite types of fics thank you for sending this in!!! I actually had to cull a lot of this list because otherwise it would have gone forever, so please enjoy my finest selection of long, intricate, well written drarry fics!

● All Life Is Yours To Miss by Saras_Girl. Rated M, word count 114k.

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

● Special Gifts by oldenuf2nb. Rated Explicit, word count 129k.

Ten years after a devastating accident costs Harry Potter the love of his life and leaves him with life altering injuries, he is asked to return to Hogwarts to help the child of an old friend, with the help of an old adversary.

● Evitative by Vichan. Rated M, word count 222k.

In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn.

Then he gets the bad news: he’s been accidentally expelled from Hogwarts, and he needs to be sorted again. Everyone is confident that he’ll go straight back to Gryffindor, but with what he's been learning, Harry’s not so sure.

● All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound. Rated Explicit, word count 149k.

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

● Turn by Saras_Girl. Rated Explicit, word count 306k.

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

● Kaleidoscope by Saras_Girl. Rated Explicit, word count 104k.

If Harry’s honest, the last thing he needs is a house full of Draco Malfoy, but partners are partners, and perhaps, the thing he wants the least will turn out to be absolutely everything.

● Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl. Rated Explicit, word count 364k.

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

● What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym. Rated M, word count 131k.

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

● Twist Of Fate by Oakstone730. Rated M, word count 302k.

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

● There's A Pureblood Custom For That by Lomonaaeren. Rated M, word count 105k.

The day that Harry stops Draco Malfoy and his son from being bothered in the middle of Diagon Alley starts a strange series of interactions between him and Malfoy. Who knew there was a pure-blood custom for every situation?

● The Ordeal Of Being Known by louisfake. Rated M, word count 146k.

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter.

#drarry #drarryficrecs #long fics #faves #wizarding politics #legilimens!draco #auror!harry #professor!drarry #post hogwarts #basically every tag ever tbh

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loneamaryllis · 9 months

Note

I only now saw the two asks you got for the PH what if Harrie got pregnant and your answers and I am freaking out!!! They made my day! Aaaa, yesss, PH Harrymort babies! Voldemort doting on Harrie while she's pregnant... 🥹🥹🥹🥹 Love how Harrie would use it to help her friends out ❤️

If there are twins or triplets Voldemort really would be insufferably smug, he would never stop gloating about it, poor Harrie 😭

I, on the other hand, would die laughing at the Malfoys finding out. Can you imagine? Lucius will die of alcohol poisoning how much he'd start drinking, imagine three little identical Potter devils running around while having their father’s cunning and are never caught in the act of stealing from the kitchen and stealing books from the library. Extra chaos if they're natural Legilimens and are already doing some tiny bits of magic 🤣🤣🤣

Voldemort would probably marry Harrie at that point if she gets pregnant...

Which is literally Harrie's worst fear, whenever I re-read her reaction to that in PH I cackle so much 🤣🤣🤣🤣 The fact Harrie's more scared of marrying Voldemort than letting him fuck her... Girl has her priorities in check. 🤣

I now wish for a pregnancy scare in PH! Harrie almost getting a heart attack when her period is late the next month, asking Narcissa to get her a test because Voldemort absolutely must not find out. Voldemort, of course, finds out and rushes to Harrie. And Voldemort being maybe disappointed if it comes out negative. He experienced the rush of possible fatherhood and now he's curious about that feeling... And him thinking of Harrie's stomach swollen with his child... 👀👀

Healer: My Lord, you have been giving Miss Potter potions to prevent pregnancy. The potions are doing their job correctly.

Voldemort: 😔😔😔 (sad Dark Lord noises)

Sending love ❤️❤️❤️

Hehe, yes, lots of thoughts on babies and Harrie's and Voldemort's reactions...

Lucius would just fuck off. He'd abandon his manor, relocate somewhere else, take his family with him. He'd pitch it to Voldemort by telling him he feels him and Harrie needs more privacy, haha.

Mmm, pregnancy scare... Maybe? I'll see if I can work it in somewhere. Poor Harrie doesn't need that, but that'd make for a fun chapter to read. And yeah, Voldemort would be, "Well, now that I think about it..."

Oh, I'm thinking about Riddle's reaction now... Not sure if he would be disgusted, or if he'd want to use the situation to manipulate Voldemort...

#precious horcrux tag

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dhr-ao3 · 15 days

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Something In The Rain

Something In The Rain https://ift.tt/NbDh06c by Kielnia She was halfway up the stairs when she caught a faint scent of sandalwood. Initially, her mind, still preoccupied with thoughts of the past, naively scanned her surroundings for an object that could emit a similar scent. Once, she would have reacted faster. She turned around as the spell hurled her wand from her hand. He stood at the bottom of the stairs. The night was so dark that to the untrained eye, he might as well have been mistaken for a coat rack. For a moment, neither of them moved. „It's the end, Granger,” The simple words were spoken almost in a whisper, as if they were in a library or during an exam, in the back row. —————————————————————————- Voldemort wins the Great Battle of Hogwarts and seizes control over the world of both humans and wizards. The Order of the Phoenix is shattered, and those who survived live in hiding. Ten years later, in the war-torn London, the last living member of the Golden Trio appears. A high price is set on Hermione Granger's head, and many are eager to claim the reward. It's a story of loneliness, escape, and the consequences of bad decisions, but mainly it's a story of longing. Words: 1737, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Voldemort (Harry Potter), Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Seamus Finnigan, Molly Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Nott Sr. (Harry Potter), Gregory Goyle, Albus Dumbledore Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Post-War, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Adult Hermione Granger, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Adult Draco Malfoy, Violence, Mental Health Issues, Character Death, Death, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Major Character Injury, Forgiveness, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Legilimens Draco Malfoy, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Hermione Granger is Not Okay, Hermione Granger is Bad at Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, dramione - Freeform via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/FOWHSJX April 16, 2024 at 01:32PM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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thedrarrylibrarian · 2 years

Note

Hey there! I was wondering if you could suggest something with some sweet sweet Dumbledore bashing? Thank you so much for your good work!

Hello! I'm so glad you've been enjoying the library! Your holds have arrived!

Manipulative Dumbledore

We Were Never A Family by @runnfromtheak (2,500 words, rated M)

You have many marks, many signs of loss and pain – because pain, as you know, is taught, and the Dursleys were excellent teachers.

Anger by sadbibarnes (2,941 words, rated G)

Draco learns about the cupboard and bonds with Remus.

Crucio by @stargazing-enby (3,367 words, rated T)

This is how their journey together starts: with an Unforgivable, a confession and the incessant dripping of a faucet.

Potter's Ravine by @mystickitten42 (23,126 words, rated E)

Harry is undeniably numb. Still reeling from the sudden death of his godfather, he’s back at the Dursleys and everything seems hopeless. One day bleeds into the next. But, as they say, nature abhors a vacuum… Draco is unimpressed. The Dark Lord and his infernal giant snake have taken over Malfoy Manor and he’s confined to his rooms. He feels like a prisoner and it’s just not right. He’s a Malfoy. Itching for confrontation he decides to go visit Harry Potter.

Things don’t go according to plan.

Weapon of Choice by @lou-isfake (25,641 words, rated T)

Sir Malfoy is in need of a sword. The blacksmith isn’t supposed to ask why.

The Ordeal of Being Known by @lou-isfake (146,637 words, rated M)

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

#rec list #drarry rec list #drarry fanfic rec list #drarry fanfic recs #drarry #drarry fanfic #manipulative dumbledore #the drarry librarian #harry potter #thedrarrylibrarian #draco malfoy #draco/harry #harry x draco #harry/draco #lots of love and happy reading

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legilimens-library · 11 months

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Y/N: *kisses Severus’s cheek*

Severus: What was that?

Y/N: Affection

Severus: Disgusting

Severus: …

Severus: …Do it again.

#alan rickman #harry potter #severus snape #severus x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #pro snape #pro severus #fluff #legilimens library

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artdepleurer · 3 months

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✨️ happy evil author day ✨️

snippet from the durmstrang au i will maybe hopefully finish someday

“Legilimens,” she verbally casts, opening her eyes to find herself in the Hogwarts Head Dorms. She recognizes it immediately after having spent a year of her life hiding away, avoiding a certain Gryffindor Golden Boy.

Tom sits on a deep green armchair, watching as she experimentally wanders through his mind. Her fingers hover above a bookshelf, a small smile gracing her features at the knowledge that they had organized their thoughts in much the same way. Curiously, she pulls a book from the shelf, throwing herself into the infirmary as Madam Pomfrey looks on. Tom wraps his arms around a crying Marietta Edgecombe, an angry bout of boils formed along her forehead. Marietta looks up at him with puppy-dog eyes. The scene flashes to St. Mungo’s as Marietta desperately seeks a cure for the jinx that scarred her years later, unable to be concealed even by the strongest glamor.

Tom looks at the young woman with a face of inimitable pity and compassion. Above Marietta’s eyebrows is written the word SNEAK.

He reaches forward in his white hospital robe. With a push Hermione is back in the office, staring him down in disbelief.

“That was you, wasn’t it?” His expression is neutral, non-accusing. “She never did say what she did to earn it. May I?”

Tom wordlessly enters her thoughts. She sits in her favorite chair, in her favorite corner of the library. He steps toward the shelf with an ease that causes her to grit her teeth. He pulls a book from the shelf and they are in the Ravenclaw dorm room. Hermione holds a pillow to her chest, cheeks pink as Marietta kicks her feet over the edge of the bed.

“Viktor kissed me,” Hermione admits, burying her face in the pillow. Marietta lets out a little squeal, the flash of jealousy in her eyes unhidden in memory. “You must promise you won’t tell a soul.”

“Of course not,” Marietta lies, holding out a pinky. “I swear!”

Hermione and Tom stand by the Black Lake. She peers from behind a tree that she had hidden behind to finish her charms reading. A group of girls walk by, giggling about how all the naughty things that Miss Hermione Granger had done in order to secure herself a Yule Ball date.

“Did you?” Tom’s voice echoes through her head. She feels him searching and pushes him out, slamming the door in his face.

“That was uncalled for,” Hermione scolds, feeling her pulse quickening, breathing becoming ragged. Her chest feels tight.

“You’ll need more than a potion,” Tom observes, face expressionless. “You suffer from a panic disorder, don’t you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is very much my business.”

“You knew what I meant,” she huffs, her chair scraping against the hardwood as she abruptly stands. “I’m going for a walk, I’m sick of having you inside of me.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Tom smirks, and her cheeks redden at her accidental innuendo. She slams the door behind her, breathing quickly through her nose.

Her fingers itch for a potion she will not find. Tom did not allow her to take the vial, suggesting (or, rather, demanding) that she come to the infirmary each time she required a dose. He knew that she needed it, that fucker. He knew exactly what he was doing.

#tomione #academic rivals #head boy and head girl

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moongurl95 · 7 months

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Chapter 7.5 – In Light of Recent Happenings

Ominis Gaunt may have been blind, but he was not entirely sightless as his peers would have thought of him.

After all, if one of them would have at least listened in during their early years in History of Magic, it wasn’t exactly a secret that Salazar Slytherin was born a gifted Legilimens. Although what the books may have failed to note was that it was an ability that could be passed down to his descendants, which Ominis used to his full advantage.

Having the sentience of his Hornbeam wand was one thing as it helped map out shapes and corners he’d rather not make a fool of himself bumping into, but Ominis still almost always found himself coming back to the vibrancy that the human mind afforded, and this was also how he familiarized himself with the concept of colors.

Though be it as it may, growing up with a childhood like his had taught Ominis to be careful in reading just about anyone’s mind, especially those of his family. However, that didn’t stop the young Gaunt from his own curiosity in wanting to find out more about his peers the moment he started his education at Hogwarts.

Free from his stifling upbringing, Ominis mostly contented himself with Anne’s enthusiastic retelling of events the moment he’d confided with the Sallow twins of his innate ability back in their first years—her mind had always been a vibrant stage of imagination and life, even though Ominis mildly questioned Anne’s exaggerated descriptions on some thing or the other, he best preferred it compared to how she was now after the curse.

And despite Sebastian willing to step in for the absence of his sister, Ominis always found the Sallow boy’s mind to be a chaotic array of thoughts— informative, yes— but Sebastian’s mind was a library of various topics that only he knew where to find, and the moment he’d sense the constant headaches that came off Sebastian, Ominis tried to keep himself from relying on his friend altogether. He was in a place with no shortage of thoughts, after all.

As long as Ominis kept himself from curiously wanting to breach any of his professors’ minds or prodding too far into the vast thoughts of the student populace, he’d found himself managing to stay afloat in his daily studies and wanderings inside the castle. It was during these instances that the young Gaunt observed how each individual’s mind was set up— from Garreth’s thoughts listed down like a potion recipe just waiting to be brewed, to Amit’s constant droll of dates, constellations and pending assignments— Ominis came to the conclusion that these were each person’s form of retreat, so what made their new fifth year classmate any different?

For all his curiosity, Ominis of course didn’t miss out on the chance to try to find out more about this newcomer, although what he’d fail to disclose to Sebastian up till now was how he was frustratingly met with silence every time he tried to glean into the new Ravenclaw’s mind. He was well aware of her thoughts being there though, just nicely secured inside a quaint looking home by what looked like a cliffside. Ominis would then just find himself sitting at the porch that made up this house in her mind as he dejectedly spied the lock on the door leading in, the only sounds that flowed into his mind were the gentle lapping of waves over the cliff.

Ironically, these were the very sounds that lulled him into a restful nap in remembrance, having challenged himself to stay awake during his first class in attendance with Professor Binns, sleep had then found its way to Ominis during his free time after. He’d chosen a discreet spot by the side of the stairwell in the Bell Tower entryway, when he’d been jolted into wakefulness at the panicked huffs that came barging in through the double doors.

He chose to remain silent as he heard the scared whispers about a Troll being in Hogsmeade, their voices trailing off towards the North Hall. Although incensed at his rude awakening, Ominis took this as a sign to continue on with the remainder of his day, thinking of dropping by Sebastian’s class to ask if the boy had gotten a head start on their Charms assignment already.

To Ominis’ surprise however, Professor Weasley was said to have dismissed her class earlier than usual and that none of Sebastian’s classmates had even seen him in attendance that afternoon.

With the halls now filled with whispers of the supposed Troll attack in Hogsmeade, and the portraits gossiping over how Ferdinand Pratt spotted the notorious gang leader, Victor Rookwood, at The Three Broomsticks, Ominis tried to brush off the slow, uneasy feeling rising in the back of his mind.

The Undercroft provided a moment’s reprieve against the surmounting thoughts that started to plague the young Gaunt, giving him enough time to gather his bearings until dinner time came around that evening when Ominis’ suspicions were brought to light.

“You saw Beatrice heading to Hogsmeade this afternoon??”

Ominis noted a girl’s hushed question sounded heavy with worry as he passed by the Ravenclaw table to find a seat for himself, before he stopped in his tracks at what he heard next.

“Yes, and she was being accompanied by Sallow earlier too.”

The young Gaunt then knew that the empty pit he felt in his stomach wasn’t just due to wanting to sate whatever hunger he was initially feeling, in fact, food was the last thing on his mind as he slowly turned towards the voice who had mentioned his friend. His wand projecting an outline of a boy just about to get seated, but it was the glimpse of memory he’d gleaned that confirmed the speaker’s identity— seeing from the other boy’s eyes the back of a brunette girl following after Sebastian pass the bridge, along the Forbidden Forest. That was the last time anyone’s seen of him.

“Larson.”

The Ravenclaw he’d called after remained standing, turning towards Ominis who had stepped closer towards their table as he quickly did a mental sweep, taking note that the curious stillness he’d come to identify with their new classmate was absent from the group of seated Fledglings, “She hasn’t come back yet?” Ominis asked aloud before he could stop himself.

“Beatrice hasn’t.” Larson answered slowly, not sure where Ominis was going with his line of questioning before realization seeped into the boy’s tone as he asked in turn, “And Sebastian hasn’t as well, has he?”

A stifled gasp was heard across the table where Larson stood, “We should ask the professors for help.” Ominis’ wand indicated a girl turning to the other beside her, identifying them as Samantha Dale and Constance Dagworth from the mental image he’d seen from their dorm’s plaque— roommates of the new student.

“I’m sure the professors would have already notified each of us if they were caught in a worrisome situation. All we can do now is wait.” Ominis said in an even tone, not wanting to give the other Ravenclaw cause to exaggerate the current predicament. Anything to keep anyone from the faculty to send an owl to Feldcroft, to keep Anne from worrying too much, and most importantly, to keep Solomon from finding any further fault towards Sebastian.

And wait he had, dinner went on to be a tasteless affair as Ominis caught himself from spying on any of the professors at their table on the podium, he gathered that Professor Weasley left her seat earlier though, and he tried not to think about the gravity that the Troll attack in Hogsmeade had caused when even the new student’s guardian, Professor Fig hadn’t come for dinner.

In the end, Ominis gleaned through enough thoughts in the Great Hall to conclude that it was Professor Weasley who had assigned Sebastian to accompany the new fifth-year, though it was still beyond Ominis as to why, however. Still, he was already planning on how to ask the Deputy Headmistress in a roundabout way concerning the whereabouts of his friend, when he heard the telltale whoosh of flames from a nearby Floo Flame just as he was passing by the Hogwarts’ Architect statue.

“Professor Weasley’s certain to hear about the Troll attack soon if she hasn’t already. Didn’t want to risk another detention from getting back after hours.”

At distantly hearing Sebastian’s voice, Ominis couldn’t help feeling the weight of worry lift from his shoulders, although a frown instantly marred his features upon hearing what their new classmate had to say next, “I was hoping you’d consider heading to the Hospital Wing before retiring for the night? Just to be certain an actual medic properly tends to your head injury from earlier…”

“Nothing a good night’s rest wouldn’t fix. The thing you should concerned yourself with was our plans on supposedly spending Study period together, remember?”

Ominis had to keep himself from snickering at Sebastian’s too obvious attempt at wanting to spend more time with the new student, only shaking his head at the girl’s almost tired reply, “Alright, I think I owe you that much at the very least.”

“And I think you’ll need to tell me why Victor Rookwood has you in his sights, at some point.” Ominis then tensed at the mention of the dark Wizard’s name, furrowing his brows at the thought that they’ve directly come across the infamous crime lord, “But we can talk about that on another time. For the moment, I should bid you good night.”

Choosing to stalk back to the Great Hall Floo Flames, it didn’t take long for Ominis to quietly mull over what he’d heard Sebastian last say in the privacy of their dorm, this was an interrogation he’d rather keep behind closed doors after all. So he patiently waited, silently tracking Sebastian’s steps as the boy finally entered their shared room, before deciding to approach as his wand traced his friend’s form against the dark.

“Sebastian. What is this I’ve heard about Rookwood setting his sights on the new fifth year?”

Ominis truly only meant to catch Sebastian off guard, so was surprised when the boy let out a “Gah!” in exclamation before stumbling back over his own pajama bottoms with an ensuing ‘thud!’ that projected an image into Ominis’ mind— a petite face framed with wavy brown locks against vibrant eyes of green that darkened as she looked up at him in concern, her hand was raised to touch his face when—

“For Salazar’s sake, Ominis! What did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that??!” Sebastian grunted from wherever he fell against, making the riveting image disappear from Ominis’ mind.

“Judging from your rather lively reactions, I’d say there was no reason for me to worry after all, but you and I both know anything involving Rookwood spells trouble, Sebastian.”

“Merely a case of mistaken identity amidst the Troll attack, is all. Relax, Sirona had us covered.”

It was obvious there was more to the afternoon’s events than what Sebastian was willing to tell as Ominis tried further probing, “And what of the Troll?”

“Singer handled the first one and well the second—”

“Wait— the second?? There were two Trolls in Hogsmeade this afternoon???” The young Gaunt had asked in disbelief, never having heard of such an incident with Trolls, especially two, barging into the quaint Wizarding village.

“Yes, Ominis, try to keep up. As I was saying, we handled the second Troll.”

“You? You and the new fifth year?? How?”

“As it turns out, it didn’t seem like only sheer, dumb luck that gave Beatrice the upper hand against me during our mock duel in Hecat’s class this morning.” Sebastian’s almost fond musing had Ominis narrowing his eyes before he let out a huff in exasperation.

“Sebastian. I know Anne would get ecstatic at the idea that you’re curious about this new student but, Beatrice seems—”

“Ominis.” At Sebastian’s suddenly quiet tone, the young Gaunt chose to hear his friend out first, “You wouldn’t be writing to Anne about today, would you?”

At this question, Ominis closed his eyes before turning back to walk towards his own bed’s direction as he slowly answered, “Between the two of us, you were the one who promised not to give your sister too much grief, didn’t you?” He smiled to himself hearing the other boy grumble something undecipherable before hearing a bottle being uncorked from Sebastian’s direction as the unmistakable scent of Dittany wafted in their room.

“I take it from your attire, you’ll be skipping our first class in Astronomy tonight?” Ominis asked in passing as he secured the exclusive star charts made for him in his robes’ pocket.

“Weasley did say something about excusing me from the remainder of my classes…” Sebastian now groggily said, clearly close to falling asleep despite Ominis still hearing rustling coming from his side of the room.

Choosing to leave his friend to rest, Ominis instinctively raised a hand in front of his face as he heard Sebastian mentally call out his name, efficiently catching a small package, the engraved symbol on the front that Ominis felt was enough indication on what it was.

“What is this, a bribe?” He asked with a hint of a laugh, still pocketing the pack of Peppermint Toads.

“Appreciation, actually…” He’d heard Sebastian’s soft reply from his bed, only broken by a yawn as Ominis stood long enough by their door, ensuring Sebastian had already drifted off when he silently closed the door behind him.

The echo of his footsteps against the steel flooring seemed loud amidst the last two images Ominis had managed to glean from Sebastian’s mind as he fell asleep— it couldn’t be a case of mistaken identity when Rookwood was adamant to stand his ground against a faceoff in The Three Broomsticks, and the reason for setting his sights on the new fifth year was… The flash of magic before the Troll disintegrated into dust was blinding for Ominis, basing from what he glimpsed off Sebastian’s memories, and Beatrice seemed… to be quite the magnet for trouble.

Taking in a steadying breath as Ominis stepped into the Slytherin Common Room, he let the sound of being under the Black Lake envelop his senses as he closed his eyes, all the while trying not to picture the piercing pair of verdant eyes that looked back at him in his mind’s eye.

next chapter ⤜⤏

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hl mc #hl oc #beatrice hayes #hogwarts legacy characters #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian x mc x ominis #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #writing in progress

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indigobackfire · 2 years

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Fankid: Indigo × Barnaby

Sawyer Sinclair Silverwood-Lee

RAVENCLAW | SEPTEMBER, 2002 | ENTP

Born: Isle of Mull, Scotland;

Looks: Relatively tall with tawny skin and chocolate brown hair that's quite wavy, big green eyes with thick eyelashes and eyebrows, dimples to her smile and soft cheekbones;

Patronus: Spider monkey;

Pets: Lychee, the white-bellied Caique parrot that she carries everywhere like a pirate, and Chuffy, a scrawny turned fat domestic longhair;

Fav Subjects: Maths, Arithmancy, Magical Theory, History of Magic, Potions, Alchemy, Wizarding Literature;

Least Fav: Herbology, Charms (one bc she doesn't like dealing with the mess and the smells/and the other bc she already masters the subject and finds it boring);

Extracurriculars: Flying, Ancient Studies, Physics Applied to Magic, Magical Sea Creatures, Wand Mechanics, Mathmagicians (class/club), Law and Political History of the Wizarding World, Magic Applied to Culinary Arts, Debate club, Music; (listen she's a chew more than you can swallow type of girl)

Boggart: Losing her family / The shadow boy she sees since childhood;

Hobbies: Reading fantasy, sci-fi, and biographies on inventors (and on her weaker days, a romance or two), playing the piano, putting apart both muggle and magical devices, training pets to do tricks, swimming, doing all types of puzzles, training her technical drawing, and karaoke with Vesper.

---

After many losses, Sawyer is the baby that comes into their lives unannounced yet wholeheartedly welcomed. A perfect mix between the two yet with big green eyes that leave no doubt about her genealogy, she's the apple of their eyes and would've grown quite spoiled if they were different people. Growing up with a legilimens for a mom certainly shapes her into a blunt and sincere girl, edges deeply softened by her father.

Though her looks never lie, the early signs of her prodigy leave both parents questioning where she could've gotten her intelligence from, which she first demonstrates with her interest in math and art, and her ease of learning writing multiple languages, all despite being homeschooled by Indigo most of her childhood. They later invest in tutors (given how early her magic began acting up sending her to a muggle school would be unwise).

In the subject of magic, her access to the family's libraries allows her plenty of knowledge on basic magic many years before she sets foot on Hogwarts which makes her a restless and uninterested student in her first years until she finds herself capable of invading more advanced classes in secret instead of attending her own. Unfortunately, the imbalance in understanding easily alienates her from her year mates, driving her to befriend much older Ravenclaws with similar interests.

But it's in her youngest cousin, Vesper, she finds her very best friend who despite the difference in age and sorting remains as such since their childhood, throughout the years they share in Hogwarts, and beyond. While Sawyer represents control, Vesper, spontaneity, and together they make quite the unstoppable duo especially with both being eager learners and fearless explorers.

While not a legillimens like her mom nor a seer like her father, Sawyer does have a strange connection with dreams, hers and others, (which I'm still in the process of discovering) that makes her nights restless and reality occasionally deceiving. She also has a more druid-like connection to the dead thanks to her Celtic origins, but something she discovers much later in life.

With her looks and sympathetic personality, she earns several admires, but getting to know her truly is a tough task with her ability to illusion openness, talking a lot not saying anything. She has a hard time being vulnerable and understanding romance, which is why despite all the flirting she's known as a hard-to-please girl. She's often drawn to extroverted and messy types despite considering herself quite cool and collected.

For the time Maxwell's in Hogwarts, she's part of his band playing the keyboard, and joins in after that whenever their official pianist gets sick or busy with personal life. Beyond the piano, she can also play the guitar and a little violin.

Her biggest obsessions in life are integrating technology and magic, not leaving any rock unturned, and understanding time and its complexities, including time travel. Needless to say, her curiosity more often than not lands her in great trouble.

#sawyer silverwood lee #barnago #aesthetic #hphm fankids #oc profile #decided to make one in this format for saw #you DONT know how many times I've remade this moodboard #the more you know a character...#I really wanna understand her character more cause I'd love to write her story one day #Well at least part of it #Anyway understanding her won't be complete until I understand Vesper so she'll be next

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carewyncromwell · 9 months

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"Everyone’s a writer -- painter -- poet! Everything is avant-garde or chic!

We’ll be in the know before we know it... When you’re in the know, it’s -- Oh, it’s magnifique! To find in Paris what you seek..."

~"Paris Holds the Key (to Your Heart)" from Anastasia (musical)

x~x~x~x

Jacob Cromwell's graduation from Hogwarts truly was an underdog story, to most people's minds. After getting roped into the likes of R, losing his two closest companions to petrification and death respectively, getting expelled, and finally getting trapped in a magical portrait for seven years, it was something of a miracle when he was able to turn it all around with nothing but his astounding intellect and magical talent, graduating with full honors in the spring of 1991. Many presumed that after the trauma he'd undergone, Jacob would settle into life at home with a respectable new career in the Wizarding World -- his sister Carewyn certainly did, taking a much more peaceful job at the Ministry of Magic as a lawyer.

Jacob, however, celebrated his graduation and freedom by traveling the world and doing and learning as much as he could -- and in those travels, he ended up making quite a name for himself, not as "that delinquent Jacob Cromwell," but as a freelance magical researcher. One of those people who took immediate notice of Jacob's brilliance in this regard was a witch who ended up becoming a very good friend of his -- the statuesque Headmistress of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Olympe Maxime.

It all started when Jacob finally -- after pecking away at it off-and-on for about two years around his travels and random Cursebreaking expeditions -- finished a scholarly essay applying the principles of Muggle chemistry to various Potions ingredients. It was a subject he'd first experimented with in his fifth year at Hogwarts (right in the middle of his Potions OWL, ridiculous as it was), but Jacob had felt more prepared to return to the subject after doing more research and even covertly sitting in on a few Muggle chemistry classes while traveling abroad. Then over the span of the next twenty months, he wrote out a full piece on all of the research he'd done, adding in some theories about a variation of the periodic table possibly being applied to various Potions ingredients and how applying the principles of organic chemistry to Potioneering could spur the invention of new Potions. Jacob sent a copy of his essay to his former professor and friend, Horace Slughorn, and the ex-Potionsmaster reacted with great enthusiasm.

Pleasantries aside, though -- Jacob, my boy, your essay! I spent an absolutely lovely afternoon reading it over a glass of brandy, and I was simply enraptured by it! I hope you don't mind, but I've already sent a snippet of it off to a friend of mine who writes for The Practical Potioneer, to see if he'd be interested in publishing the whole thing in some future edition -- such a thing awaiting your explicit consent, of course.

Jacob enthusiastically gave Slughorn the "go-ahead" to send the rest of his essay along, if his friend expressed interest in publishing it. Later that year, when Jacob came home for Christmas, he was able to surprise his mother and sister with their own first editions of the potioneering magazine containing his essay. Lane was so delighted and proud that she actually ended up bursting into silent tears.

"The Practical Potioneer," she breathed, her wispy voice choked with emotion. "Oh, Jay...I used to read that every month, when I was in school...whenever the Hogwarts library got in a new copy that I could check out...and now..." She brought her hands up to cradle her son's cheeks, "...now my little Blue Jay's gotten published in it!"

Jacob opened his arms in anticipation of the big hug his mother gave him, squeezing her tight. Despite being just as strong of a Legilimens as Carewyn, he'd never been as good at sensing people's emotions as she was -- but in this moment, he was positive: his mother was so, so proud of him. And that feeling filled Jacob up with so much vindication and warmth that he too felt close to tears.

Both Lane and Carewyn would put Jacob's article in positions of honor. Carewyn framed all four pages of Jacob's essay and mounted them on the wall of her office under a print of Hogsmeade village Badeea had painted for her. Lane herself left the magazine with her son's essay out on the side table by her favorite "reading window" for the rest of her life, and she shared it with every single one of the few visitors she invited to her cottage.

x~x~x~x

As fate would have it, a French Potioneer traveling abroad on holiday picked up several Potioneering magazines from the countries he visited, so as to read them on his long train ride home. One of those such magazines ended up being that very edition of The Practical Potioneer, and the French wizard was thoroughly charmed by the theories presented by the British researcher called Jacob Cromwell: so much so that he translated the essay into French and then sent it and the original magazine to the French Wizarding World's main newspaper, Le Cri de la Gargouille. The paper then published the translation of Jacob's essay in their paper in February 1994, specifically as part of their Mode de Vie Magique section -- a section that was, in fact, a favorite of one Olympe Maxime.

About a week after Le Cri de La Gargouille printed Jacob's translated article, Jacob received a letter via owl post that was sealed with a light blue seal marked with a cursive "B" over two crossed wands.

Monsieur Cromwell, Firstly, I must apologize if this letter reaches you more than once. When seeking out an address for you, I was informed that you currently have no permanent address, and so I had to get creative to find a way to contact you directly. Fortunately it seems that the Owl Office in Paris is most resourceful in locating witches and wizards while they are on holiday abroad. But now, to business. A week or so ago, while reading La Cri de La Gargouille, I came across your essay regarding the application of Non-Magic chemistry to our own Potioneering, and to put it simply, I found it absolutely enthralling. I profess no expertise in Non-Magic science, aside from the psychology books I've read by Non-Magic authors, but your knowledge of the two subjects is clearly thorough, and your conclusions in comparing the two were fascinating. Your application of Non-Magic chemistry to Potioneering is a subject I would like very much to share with my older students, in preparation for their entry into the Wizarding World. And so it is because of this that I cordially invite you to the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for a high tea on the afternoon of March 1st, at 3 o' clock. Please RSVP as soon as possible -- I hope that since my return address is so prominent, your response should not take long to reach me. Chaleureusement, Olympe Maxime Directice of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

x~x~x~x

To say Jacob was thrilled at the prospect of visiting the famous Beauxbatons Academy would be an understatement. He was so over the moon at the prospect that he sent letters to Carewyn, Lane, his best friend Olivia Green, Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick and Madam Rosmerta about it, before he finally calmed down enough to remember that he hadn't even RSVPed to Madame Maxime's invitation properly.

Salut, Madame Maxime! Mon français n'est pas très bon, mais j'ai pensé que je devais répondre dans votre langue, parce que vous m'avez écrit dans mon langue. Le français est une belle langue aussi -- c'est ma préférée des langues gallo-romantiques. J'aimerais beaucoup te rendre visite! J'ai lu beaucoup de livres sur votre école. Je ne peux pas attendre! À bientôt! Jacob Cromwell

Jacob then had to immediately set about making travel plans to France. First he took a boat from Rebun Island (his current location) to Tokyo; then he took a very long plane ride from Tokyo to Frankfurt, Germany; once he'd gotten his bearings, he then took a train to Paris, where he was able to take the Floo Network from le Place Cachée to the Wizarding village of Lapinfort, by the outskirts of Lourdes. It was in Lapinfort that Jacob was handed a response from his sister Carewyn, which had arrived via owl the previous day.

Dear Jacob, I just got your letter. I can't believe you're actually going to visit Beauxbatons Academy! I know how much you've always wanted to go there, and to know you've been invited there by Madame Maxime herself...I'm so proud of you! I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm rereading your letter as I'm writing this and I can't stop smiling. Truly, though, I hope you get on with Madame Maxime, and that your lecture for her students goes well. I met Maxime once when she accompanied my school friend Penny's penpal Aurelie Dumont on a visit to Hogwarts, and she's a very glamorous woman. But please, Jacob, I'm begging you, don't make ANY comments about her size -- she's even taller than Hagrid, and I get the feeling she's secretly very self-conscious about it. The last thing I want is for you to make a bad first impression!! As the French say, "bonne chance!" Write to me as soon as you get this, and then be sure to also write to me all about your meeting, after it's over -- I want to know everything. Love you, Carewyn

Jacob wrote Carewyn a quick note to let her know of his safe arrival. Then, once he'd finished, he went into town and found a carriage led by flying horses that could take him over the Pyranees mountains and to the famous Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

It was truly as beautiful of a school as Jacob's books had claimed. Just as Hogwarts was a mysterious, grand stone castle, Beauxbatons was likewise a kind of palace, though one far more ornamental and delicate: a true French chateau, framed by elegant gardens trimmed with fairy lights.

As Jacob disembarked from the carriage, he found himself enchanted by the tiny seashells embedded into the cement paths that led through the gardens. He soon found himself wandering the left of these paths, rather than looking for the entrance properly, and found himself embarking on a quest to locate the center of the hedge maze he'd found himself in. It wasn't until about a half-hour later that he found his way back out and to Beauxbatons' entrance.

When Jacob reached the grand, white front doors, they sparkled with silver sparkles as they opened for him. Clearly the school knew this was a welcome guest, rather than an enemy -- Jacob's eyes lit up at this thought, and only became brighter seeing the school's interior.

The ceilings were even high than Hogwarts's, and shining as bright white as a spring-time sky full of angelic clouds. The halls were framed by large, beautiful, painted marble columns trimmed with gold, as well as countless living portraits trimmed with ornate ivory frames. There were crystal chandeliers decorated with colorful glass flowers and ivy that sparkled with even more fairy lights. Living statues were mounted in displays of honor down the hall, and they all turned their heads to look at Jacob as he passed. Everything was so bright and pristine, and yet not flimsy. There was power here, inside of this ageless, seemingly fragile beauty: the kind found in the Greek Parthenon or the palace of Versailles.

"Ah...Monsieur Cromwell."

Jacob looked up, startled, to find a very foreboding, but beautiful woman dressed all in light blue satin with a white feathered-shawl around her shoulders, approaching him. She was large before she got close, but once she had, she towered over him, nearly as tall as the ceiling.

Like Hagrid, Jacob recalled.

The thought of the friendly gamekeeper, as well as of Carewyn's letter, made Jacob grin from ear to ear.

"...You must be Madame Maxime!"

"Oui," she said lightly. "You are late, Monsieur Cromwell -- I expected you 'alf an 'our ago."

The Directice's dark eyes flitted over the much smaller man, taking in his incredibly informal white t-shirt and jeans with muted disapproval.

Jacob, however, was blissfully unaware of this.

"Oh yeah -- sorry about that!" he said brightly. "I was just exploring your gardens -- fabulous hedge maze you've got, on par with the one at Villandry Castle. I think I found at least one of its treasures in my wanderings -- that is, if you don't count the absolutely beautiful Herbology specimens...nearly got caught in that French Devil's Snare, when trying to examine your color-changing peonies. But at the center of the maze, I found your garden of wood nymphs -- "

Maxime looked very startled. "You found eet?"

"Yeah! Bloody brilliant use of Concealment Charms, though -- took me about ten tries, before I got the order of turns right...but yeah, so I found the garden in the center, and that tree...absolutely stunning! I don't even know what breed it is exactly, maybe a variation of Wiggentree, but it's exquisite! Is it unique? It surely must be -- I've never seen one so big! Anyhow, the wood nymph Queen wasn't so keen on me getting close, but once I showed her I meant no harm, she pointed the way out for me...who knew wood nymphs would be so keen on Whitney Houston? Though really, I don't blame them -- Whitney's got a wicked set of pipes -- obviously I couldn't do her song the same justice she would've, but hey..."

Many a person had found Jacob's talkativeness exhausting to deal with, in the past. Even Jacob's first friend and love Duncan Ashe had frequently had to tell Jacob to shut up now and again, whenever he'd go off the deep end in rambling. Surprisingly, however, Madame Maxime didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable or overwhelmed -- if anything, her expression bloomed into something a bit more intrigued.

"You zaid zat you not only found our garden for ze wood nymphs in less zhan an hour," she said, "but zat you also earned zheir favor? Monsieur Cromwell -- I do not zhink you are aware of quite how rare zat is."

Jacob cocked his eyebrows, smiling fully. "Why, because of your Concealing magic? Ah, well, I am a freelance Cursebreaker, a lot of the time...puzzles are my favorite thing. And magical creatures are always groovy -- you should meet my friend Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts, he's swell with creatures..."

"What I mean is zat conquering zat maze is a test all seventh year students must face 'ere at Beauxbatons, in order to graduate," Maxime said, her smile spreading more fully. "And most only reach ze garden, before 'aving to quickly leave it. Ze wood nymphs are very protective of zheir tree -- which, yes, is a one of a kind specimen: I rescued it on a trip to Greece myself," he eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief.

Jacob blinked. Then his face broke out into a bigger smile than ever, his skull-like light blue eyes positively alight with delight.

"So does that make me worthy of touring the hallowed halls of your Academy, Directice?" he asked, raising his eyebrows eagerly.

Maxime beamed. "Quite worthy, Monsieur Cromwell."

"Groovy!" cheered Jacob. "Because I was meaning to ask about your school's architecture -- everything I've read about Beauxbatons states that it was built in the 13th century, but all of the decor and landscaping I've seen since I got here is distinctly Baroque -- more properly, Rococo-inspired, which wasn't popular until the 17th century at the earliest. I would assume Beauxbatons has gone through some structural changes thorough-out the years -- understandable, given the history of war on France's borders, in contrast to the isolated Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is situated -- but are these original from that period, or was it brought back in a revival, after the fall of Napoleon and the virulent anti-monarchist views held by the common man had calmed enough that such beauty could be celebrated again, rather than solely condemned?"

Maxime indulged Jacob's questions as they walked down the long hall and then up a grand staircase to her office. Once there, she offered Jacob some tea (which Jacob drank to be polite) and a dish of endlessly duplicating chocolate madeleines (which Jacob couldn't stop eating). While drinking their tea, Maxime asked Jacob some questions of her own about the kinds of magical research he'd been working on, which prompted Jacob to go off on a tangent about poisons and antidotes, which in turn got Maxime eagerly talking about the perfumes she mixed herself, using the flowers grown in the Beauxbatons gardens.

"Truly, it iz also not zo different from your non-Magique 'chemistry,'" said Maxime. "Just as with Potions, you zimply need zome zort of essential oil, a proper base, and zhen different 'notes,' to achieve ze desired effect. Combine jojouba oil, lavender, and rose with just a 'int of Lady's Mantle as a top note, and voila! You have a perfume zat not only makes you feel relaxed and beautiful, but makes you both smell and appear even more beautiful, to ze people around you."

Jacob's eyes lit up. "Using Beauty Potion ingredients in perfumes! What a groovy idea! I can't wait to tell my Pip -- she's always liked lavender as a scent..."

Maxime beamed, clearly very pleased by Jacob's enthusiasm. "You can zee why your piece about applying non-Magique chemistry to Potions interested me zo much. I would frankly love to 'ear 'ow you'd explain your theories to my students...if you would be willing to let me 'sit in' on your lecture."

"Of course!" Jacob said at once, without any hesitation. His grin was so big he could hardly contain it. "Mais oui! I'd be honored!"

Maxime and Jacob would go on to talk for another whole hour, long after the tea was gone. It was only then that Maxime brought Jacob downstairs toward the Potions classroom, where a set of seventh years had just filed in, and introduced Jacob to the class before settling in the very back of the room as he started his lecture. Although Jacob went on quite a few long tangents in his lecture, his enthusiasm captivated the French students, so much so that they couldn't even look down too much on the weird Briton with the crazy hair and sloppy clothes. He was so animated and intelligent when he talked that soon all of the students were raising their hands and engaging with him, asking follow-up questions and even challenging his conclusions, which Jacob reacted to with almost more enthusiasm than he did to the questions. By the time Jacob's lecture was through, Maxime's eyes positively radiated with how charmed she was by this tiny, quirky little wizard with the messy curls.

"You will have to visit again, when next you publish anozher zuch work," she said insistently.

"Oh, totally!" said Jacob eagerly. "I'd love to come again sometime. Even just to explore some more -- your school really is smashing! I'd love to see your library next time..."

"Mais oui -- but of course."

Jacob's enthusiasm clearly pleased Maxime greatly. It made her give a slightly-too-hard pat to Jacob's cheek that ended up more feeling like a slap.

"Au revoir, Monsieur Cromwell," said Maxime with a warm smile. "I do 'ope zat you shall visit France again soon."

Jacob blinked. Then he smiled a bit more awkwardly.

"Well, uh...my travels kind of keep me on the move. I don't really know when I'll be anywhere a lot of the time -- I just sort of figure it out as I go along. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to come back sometime, obviously! And until I do, I could always send you letters, if you'd like. I love sending letters," Jacob added with a grin.

Maxime cocked her eyebrows. "You do not zeem to like receiving zhem quite so much, if you do not have a proper return address."

Jacob laughed uncomfortably. "Oh no, it's...not me not liking receiving letters, I just...keep forgetting to file for a proper collection box, with the Owl Office. Pip's always getting on me for that -- she ends up getting most of the letters for me, and she thinks it'd be a lot easier if people just sent them straight to me, rather than her having to figure out where to send stuff to me based on what I tell her of where I'm next going..."

"Your 'Pip' iz right about zat," said Maxime with a cool smile. "I would zuppose she is just too nice to tell you to stop making 'er pick up after you."

Jacob laughed a bit more fully, though still rather uncomfortably.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right..." He smiled a bit more fully. "All right -- when I get a proper collection box, I'll let you know straight away."

"Good," said Maxime. "I would not like to 'ave to zend three of ze same letter again. I am not ze zort of woman who likes to appear desperate."

Jacob laughed again despite himself. "Desperate? I wouldn't have said that. I thought that it just made you determined, honestly. It sounds like just the sort of thing my Pip would do, to make sure she reached me."

"I have met your zister before, Jacob Cromwell, however briefly," said Maxime, her wry smile widening a bit. "Zo I know, both because of 'er and because of your clear esteem for 'er, zat your comparison is a great compliment."

Jacob grinned. "Better believe it is."

Sure enough, with Madame Maxime's prodding, Jacob opened up a collection box with the Owl Office and enchanted it so that his mail could seamlessly appear in a collection tray on the desk inside his portable room in a suitcase. With this, he was able to receive and send letters a lot more quickly and efficiently -- and it was because of this that Jacob received the news of Cedric Diggory's death so quickly from both Carewyn and Maxime and he was so quick to return home to the United Kingdom in the spring of 1995. Jacob would lose touch with Madame Maxime when she went with Hagrid to negotiate with the giants, but they would reestablish contact after her during the War and especially after, when they no longer had to send messages in code.

The two would remain friends for many years to come, sending letters and gifts to each other while Jacob was traveling. One of Jacob's favorite gifts from Olympe Maxime ended up being a custom cologne she brewed for him, made of cocoa beans, leather, Egyptian musk, and Lady's Mantle. It was a scent Jacob wore chiefly on dates, when he really wanted to look and feel his best, and whenever anyone asked him about it, he was always incredibly proud to boast about his talented friend, the stately Directice of Beauxbatons herself.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #jacob cromwell #madame maxime #carewyn cromwell #horace slughorn #lane cromwell #yay jacob content!#I kind of felt like exploring jacob's dynamics with certain characters the way I did for carewyn with umbridge #though this one's obviously a much lighter example #another relationship I wouldn't mind exploring is the bill and jacob relationship #because yeaaaaah jacob kind of resents bill even though he knows he's not a bad person and he's his sister's bestie #but bill kind of 'replaced' jacob in carewyn's life to a degree as older brother figure for a while and that stings #and because bill is so like carewyn in a lot of ways there are definitely points where jacob has secretly felt #as though bill was a better 'brother' for her than he was #not that it'd be easy for him to articulate that either because of his own pride or because he's not as smart emotionally as carey is #but yeah anyway I find it funny how much easier it is for jacob to make friends with people who are older than him than his age #rosmerta flitwick slughorn...even mia who I've written about elsewhere ends up seven years older than jacob thanks to the portrait thing

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