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kaetastic · 4 years

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Where Have You Been? 2

pairing: Harry Potter x Slytherin!Potter!Aunt!Reader (no incest- just aunt and nephew battlin’ through evil :)), (possible future evolution to pairing with Sirius Black)

summary: After years blinded from the tainted power and lies, Y/N Potter finally sees the truth. The truth that urged her to clamber out of the hole created by the Dark Lord. Will young year-2 Harry accept the absence of an aunty he didn’t even know he had?

word count: 4.8k

warning: fluff, heavy angst, guilt, mentions of death

note: lately, i haven’t found myself writing as much, i don’t think it’s w****r’s b***k, it’s just me being distracted by so many other things lmao. thank you for waiting this long for the second part, i’m pretty sure there’ll be a third :)) there’s no harry in this but i wanted to keep the pairing consistent

Harry was just a thirteen-year-old boy. He was a young wizard, trapped in the walls of muggles who wished they had nothing to do with his kind. There was no other safe place for the boy. If Y/N had not fallen into the rabbit hole that branded the mark on her arm, maybe she had the chance to keep her nephew with her. Y/N could do nothing about it. Despite her ideas of getting him out of that suffocating house, to finally enjoy the presence of someone she shared her blood with, to show him what magic truly was, she knew it would only place great danger onto him. Her life which had slanted down like that anticipated, fingers-digging-into-the-railing part of a roller coaster had gone from a flowery childhood to having no other alive family member if Harry was to be excluded.

If the time she had been on the run was to be calculated, it would’ve roughly been thirteen years. Thirteen years of shifting houses to houses. Although, one year, she had feared for the loyal followers to be sent to capture her, the rest twelve, she had to constantly check over her shoulders for a sign of Aurors who were on a mission to chuck every last death eater into Azkaban. Y/N hoped the day where she would not have to leave a bed to enter a new one would come. The witch didn’t mind if it was sooner than said, it would be nice to open windows to the scorching sun with a cup of warm tea in her hands. It would be nice to walk on open streets without a heavy, ominous clock over her head. It would be nice to walk on the streets, not pathways that had been littered with spit.

Although, the sweet victory taste she had dreamed for had turned bitter, acidic to her tongue as if those scenarios she wondered on for hours had been nothing but bait, a tease. The Privet Drive might’ve not been the best place for Harry, but it was the safest for the boy. Well, safer than going on the run with his aunt who had to keep glancing over her shoulders in case a shadow scurried after her.

Even though the wizard had suggested he could follow her since she had magical blood, just like him, the witch had no choice but to turn him down. Even the frown on his face had embedded itself in her memories. The disappointment at the rejection of a better life with the sister of his father had plagued Harry’s time at school. Not before Y/N told him to not mention their meeting to a single soul. It might’ve been hard for the young boy, but he somehow managed… well, apart from his two other friends he had found a strong connection with. Harry had mentioned the name Hermione and Ron during the heart-aching conversation of the early morning in his bedroom. Unfortunately, it had been cut short when the witch had realized the time.

Y/N was sick of scrambling around, running away and cowering from everything. Because she had not only feared the suppressed group that had gone either into hiding or had lied to not face the terrible consequences but also the Aurors. Aurors who had tied a price tag around her head. She couldn’t even defend herself. By that, the witch meant that the way her head had wrapped around the wrong she had done placed her perspective in an angle some people would not believe. In simpler words, Y/N believed- no, she knew that they wouldn’t spare a speck of mercy onto her soul. Even though she had thought of surrendering herself with hands high in the air, the Potter had not been dumb. Not to forget, she had pride. Pride to not give the golden trophy right into the hands of the Aurors.

Then, she made a move. It had been a risky path she fell into, but she moved her Queen piece across the chessboard. The only piece she had defending her sole King. Y/N sent a letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts. Despite her worry about his response since he was in fact, the creator of the Order of the Phoenix, there was no need to overthink of the great wizard’s reply. Dumbledore waited for the day, not losing a bar of hope for the return of the witch. The day she would clamber out of the dark hole she had stumbled into. Taking a chunk of his busy and occupied time, the wizard had made time for her. It was not long before they met up at the place he had chided to her when she was just a twelve-year-old, the place he told her where one should go before they die. Although, the place didn’t live up to the wizard’s words as it had been nighttime, the perfect and safe time for her to be out of her lodging, and it had recently just rained.

“There isn’t anything I say that will defend for what I have done. What I’ve done… it’s unforgivable.” Her gaze trailed down to brush over the clumpy doughs of the drenched soil. The stretched-out shapes had been filled in with the recent shower from the tears of the clouds. Although, the teardrops had been pure, innocent without a speck of tainted colour, now- it was just clouded. Y/N wished that was how she remembered her horribly chosen youth. Unfortunately, it had all been crystal clear. Despite her trying multiple choices of blurring out the wrong she had done, every single moment plays in her head every night. It sat in her mind, permanently.

With her lack of interaction with other wizards to minimize her appearance to the wizard community, obliviating herself wasn’t really an option. There had been some… pathetic muggle suggestions such as hurling her head against a wall. It didn’t take her long before she discarded the idea that would only cause more harm than good. Even though she wished she would not be reminded of such memories, she then remembered one of the few hopes that kept her hanging on that cliff.

No one was placed at such a position like Y/N’s. Well, other than someone she had grown to associate with the passing of years while she was a death eater. Is it still ‘was’? Was the thing she needed to yank out of her chest in the past? The ‘tattoo’ still remained. As time passed, it had faded from the prominent ink. Even though Y/N felt joy unfurl in her chest at the thought of it becoming non-existent, ready to see her bare arm once again without the hideous memory from her past, it lingered. The mark stayed to torture her every second. The branding on her arm had been the last string that labelled her as a death eater. She had not found anything to remove it. Y/N had gone through books after books, crumbling pages to flying lines, unreadable handwritings to hidden, enchanted chapters. None had given her an ounce of hope she needed.

“There have been many people who’ve done nothing but wrong their whole lives, yet, they always had something to say. What makes you an exception?” The man quirked up, his silvery eyebrows jumped at her figure with his infamous words that had been packed full of knowledge and riddle. It had always been like that, ever since she was just a child, the man who still rocked his extensive beard had become a prominent feature. Although, the two lost contact as she dived into the side she was warned about during dinner. Dinners that lasted short, a smudged out memory. Y/N pressed her lips in thought, fingers twiddling without a slight intrusion in her head. A habit she had grown up with. And like as always, he cut her off with another sentence for her to process. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned in the letter that you have not done more than maiming someone.”

“In the name of the Dark Lord.”

“Yes, but it was for your survival,” Dumbledore interjected. Oh, he always had his way with his speeches and his sentences.

A sigh brushed her lips, creaking into the heavy air of the light wind toying with the hairs of trees as if they were puppets. Pushing her legs to rest her back against the bench that had been damp from the previous shower, Y/N murmured without peeling her eyes away from her fingers, “He killed Regulus. Regulus never came back, you know? After a trip, he was gone… forever. That’s what made me doubt my choices. His death was the sole reason I had left.”

“Regulus Black. Sirius’s younger brother.”

Y/N hummed while her arms slithered to wrap around her body, the chilling kiss of the air had been merciless to the defence of her clothing, “Regulus Arcturus Black. Whenever I was lazy to call his name even though it’s just seven letters, I called him ‘R.A.B’,” She let out a chuckle since it had been her joke for the boy to embrace the three letters as his signature, before the corners of her lips curled down in realization. “Although, now, I seem to find the longer being comforting.”

“There’s no need to worry, what matters most is your safety. You must try to stray away from any sight of those who may seem interested. I will write a letter once Harry starts his third year.” Y/N nodded even though she was slightly reluctant to the life she would have to shift her own foot in. Deep down, she knew, no matter what other’s would say to comfort and calm down her nerves, she would always have something to fidget about. Something that came in the package when one falls into the Death Eater’s path.

It had barely been a month since she had met with the well-known headmaster, and Y/N hadn’t exactly found peace in continuing her life of being a criminal. The ability to sit still in a seat for longer than fifteen minutes was non-existent. Thoughts ran, scrambling from one side of her head to the other without rest. Every second, she would always have something to think of. A smart decision she made during her Hogwarts years was focusing during classes despite her side chores, so, it only became helpful when she needed a vial of ‘Draught of Peace’ or ‘Calming Draught’ to calm down her relentless thoughts.

Harry recently started his third year at Hogwarts as the letter sent by the one and only, Dumbledore. The wizard had reminded her as he had promised; although, she remembered the day the students would be going back to school. Y/N could only stare into the abyss while she dreamed of walking onto the ground of the school once more. Oh, to feel the chilling stone walls during winter. She could only dream.

It was for the safety of her nephew, and for her to stay in hiding that she didn’t write to the boy; even though she desperately wanted to. So, Y/N spent hours on the crooked wooden desk which had been slanted down, the folded piece of newspaper had begun to damp in the humid air, melting into the floor. The witch wasted hours of her day that flew by once she completed the letter to her heart’s desire. Days that stretched out when she didn’t occupy herself.

She could barely count the number of lines she had scribbled down onto countless yellow sheets of paper. After a day of jotting down hefty block of paragraphs that was enough to build castles, she would stuff the pile of letters away, under her bed, or she would try her best to cram the sheets into the minuscule gaps between tattered books and the shelves. Most addressed to her nephew, now, just unsent thoughts that had been occupying her head, and desires of her heart which she had no one to pour out to.

There was nothing Y/N could do. She was edging to the last sentence of her book, the last chapter of her story. If she was to stay, all she would have is Harry. Even so, she didn’t have him. The young wizard was hurled into the palms of her sister-in-law, muggles who hated whatever wizards were capable of.

Maybe the only reason she reached out to Dumbledore was because she had information, intel that would be impeccably useful to the Order. Things the members wouldn’t even be able to smear against, things they can’t even imagine. Comparing herself to some members of the organization who had achieved great things in the available tasks by the Ministry, Y/N had seen far more than some of them has. She has seen gruesome sights, sights she wished she had glanced away from. However, she knew, she knew he was watching.

That was her lifestyle now. The witch would have to suck it up, swallow the truth and deal with the reality she was stuck in. Stranded in a sole, pathetic room of a sad excuse of a building. Y/N had barely left the place she would have to call home. There had been multiple times the owner had tried to usher the lady out for a quick talk, Y/N did not want to risk anything. The only walls that had been present in the rented room were for the loo, that- she was grateful for.

Then, news broke out into the wizarding community, it cracked over their heads like a spoiled egg, the yolk oozing out in a battered pace before it splattered into a squelch. News that sent everyone into a frenzy, news that made heads poked into corners of streets before they proceeded to walk the route they had been used to for years. News of the notorious Sirius Black breaking out of Azkaban. It was impossible. No one had fled away from the prison. He was the first.

However, unlike most, Y/N knew things some didn’t know. It was not belief, rather, she knew the truth. Sirius Black did not do the things wizards and witches had whispered into each other’s ears. He was not capable of said-things. Y/N had met the man from his tight friendship with her older brother. Friendship that people had poked at him for being weak since he had shown his back to James. Those people knew nothing. They didn’t know how close they were for James to bring the boy to live at their house. They didn’t know that her parents had seen Sirius as their son. No one knew the truth, yet, they still let their words slip up into stubborn rumours.

During her years of being a death eater, side-by-side with Regulus, her head held high without a quiver in her bone, Y/N had heard and seen things. Maybe some of them she should’ve not even eavesdropped on. It would’ve cost her life… she still did so. Y/N was meant to be in Slytherin, it was destiny that she had denied ever since the hat had spoken, and she saw her brother’s expression falter at the declaration. Despite her opposition to the situation, she wore the new shoes perfectly. The first few years, she was as close to her brother as she was before, any time she saw him in the corridor, she would wave, or they would pick up a desultory conversation. With that, he had introduced his friends. Y/N could see the tight rope around them, bonds she can’t see broken. Or so she thought.

Then, it inched to her fourth year when she truly distanced herself. No, nothing would be blamed onto Regulus, no idea of his would be looked upon for the dead could not even defend himself. Y/N fell onto the path her parents had prominently warned her about. Their occasional talks about people who were surrounded with an aura that would send shivers down their spines sparked into muffled ears. Those lectures and lessons were all forgotten as Y/N found comfort standing beside the person she could not tear herself from.

Walburga would accept the girl with warm embrace. Although, that came with its consequences. Y/N had to sit at the dining table, next to Regulus while the woman rambled poison-filled words about her parents who were not ashamed to be in the presence of muggles. The blinded girl did as her blurred head told her to do so, she tolerated the blows to her gut. It was only rare times when Regulus would speak up to stop his mother from hurling more onto the meal made by the elf. Despite Walburga’s hatred for Y/N’s parents, the woman had mentioned countless times that she had filled in the shameful place of her other son. Y/N was sure the empty space in her house had been plucked in with Sirius Black.

Regulus would just be flushed with crimson red whenever his mother had brought up the two. She always took the chance to talk about how good they looked next to each other. There were few, forgotten times when she had dropped the word marriage. However, there was nothing but friendship between the two that would constantly burgeon, blossoming every second of every day. Walburga would swat it away, not believing them.

It was true, despite the pureblood mother believing the two had something going on. It was nothing but friendship. Sure, there had been gentle kisses against cheeks, but it was nothing more.

Everything then fell apart. She didn’t know who was amusing themselves by having a poke at the blocks of her life, but she knew it had wavered her platform. It was Regulus, then, it was her mother and father. The night when the elf had stumbled into the Grimmauld place, an ominous locket in his grasp, Y/N’s head went into a frenzy. She had never seen the creature look so distraught. The only reason she had remained at the house was because she had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t until days she would piece everything together. Regulus had gone, so the house-elf had confessed. The truth was not to be told to his family. How did anyone expect her to stay at the house she had made unforgettable memories? Y/N left, not even a farewell or a note for the family.

The two had whispered conversations of the truth of becoming a death eater, they would do so under their breaths, afraid of who might listen. Whatever Regulus did, she did too.

Kreacher said he had been ordered by Regulus to go back home with the locket, leaving the wizard to die. Y/N had screamed at the creature for his pathetic words, thankfully, Walburga nor Orion was at home. The two Slytherins had discussed of the Dark Lord’s attempt to murder the house-elf before they dived into countless pages, all so they could land to assume that the locket had been a Horcrux. The two eighteen-year-olds had just found out the deepest secret of the Dark Lord. And one of them died with the truth, while the other ran for her life.

If it wasn’t enough, Y/N could not even attend the funeral of her parents. The people she had not spoken to for years. She had listened to the words on the street that it was to Dragon Pox. It was then Y/N had to sit through excruciating months before she had the chance to visit their graves. The last she had seen their faces was a photo she had absent-mindedly packed before she had run away from home. If seeing her parents in flesh was in consideration, it was the sobbing mother who could not calm her hiccups in tears with every caress of her husband’s warmth. The photo might’ve been the best mistake she had ever made.

In the midst of 1980, thoughts that would only surface when the sun no longer exists had steered the witch away from the path she thought she would be on until she bled to death. Just before she allowed the thought of living her life on the run consumed her, she had planned and listed out everything that would come as consequences if she was to proceed. That was when she tumbled over something. Still a death eater, she had stumbled upon the voice of a man who had been deeply trusted by her brother conversing with none other than the leader of the dark. His squeaky voice poured out every information he had about James and Lily. However, that was not the thing she had eavesdropped on. It was the fact that the man was Peter Pettigrew, the boy who would trail with the group. All so he could fall under the protection of the Dark Lord. What a grave mistake he had made.

Y/N didn’t know what it was in her, but she then cut off any ties with the death eaters. That sounded easier than it truly was. There would be nights when she would feel her arm burn, flames piercing into her skin. He was angry, furious- she knew. All she could do was clutch onto the frigid sheets of the bed around her inflamed arm. She lived and survived, something she didn’t know how she came out successful, and lived her life on the run, always on edge. She stayed at multiple places, hoping the dark lord and his goons had not found her. To her luck, the pain dimmed down, she had only felt the faintest of a sting at the mark.

Then, it was the unseen, unfortunate death of James and Lily. Y/N didn’t waste a second when she had heard a man regurgitate the words at the bar to sprint towards the house. The motionless figure of the man she once had picked on for accidentally wearing her jumper of an adorable bunny. So, she cradled his chilling body while streams of tears gush out of her eyes. There was no one left for her. That was, until she reluctantly pulled away from the corpse to follow the boisterous cries. Up the mess of a corridor and into a nursery with planks of wood decorating the floor She was met by a gruesome sight of her sister-in-law, flat on the ground, and the relentless toddler who the dark lord feared, her nephew.

Even though Y/N wished to spend more time, she had no choice but to peel herself away. She apparated away once she jumped through the window. Not long after, it was the rest of the Order’s turn to take in the event.

Y/N knew there had been some death eaters who remained loyal to the dark lord despite his fall. Some had been locked up in Azkaban, while the rest still sauntered over streets casually. She knew some of them would be chasing after her, she knew the Ministry was searching for her, so why did she fall for the words scribbled by Dumbledore to meet up with Remus?

“Sirius didn’t kill James and Lily.” Remus nodded, his eyes finding the sight of the pond to be more captivating.

“I know.”

“Sirius didn’t murder those muggles.” Remus nodded once again.

“I know.”

“You know, yet, you had not defended the man when everyone’s ears had been stuffed with lies.” The wizard could only press his lips, lost in thought.

“Y/N, listen, we haven’t exactly been on the same path, but I feel like we are now,” The witch’s eyebrows furrowed. Remus swung from the same bench she had sat with Dumbledore. “I wanted to meet you when Dumbledore had told me he had met you. Although, I didn’t have a good excuse to do so. Now, I do.”

His ominous words had only made her fingers crawl towards her wand. Neck snapping towards the rustling of leaves, she shot up from the seat, the wooden stick pointing towards the source of noise. With a spell murmured by Remus, her wand was out of her hand. She didn’t want to falter her gaze from the shadow that poured out of the bushes, but she couldn’t help her expression morphing into that of betrayal. Remus didn’t bother to send a face to comfort her.

Y/N felt every muscle in her body freeze, every fibre was pulled taut before they remained stationary. The black dog paced towards her at a casual pace, almost approaching her carefully. Its eyes, it looked familiar. She had seen it somewhere. And no wonder… she had. Before her eyes, the dog transformed into a man who was dressed in tattered and shabby clothing of dull colours. The face of the man who had been plastered all across newspapers and streets, “Sirius?”

Maybe she should’ve panicked first, to why he had even put himself at risk, her even, but she reverted to another path. She saw Regulus in him. The infamous Black’s dark hair which Regulus would gingerly trim and take care of had flourished on Sirius’s head.

“You’ve got to be joking me,” Y/N gushed out, the corners of her lips curled up in amusement even though she felt anything but amusement. “Are you out of your mind? You truly have gone insane in Azkaban.”

The witch turned to face Remus, “You too. Is this the plan of yours? What? To bag me up for the Ministry?”

Remus sighed out, his fingers splayed out against her wand, “Sirius wanted to meet you, the reason, he had not told me. This meeting is not a trick, no one knows Sirius is here.”

“Will you be holding my wand throughout this?” The man could only give her a slight nod of his head. Y/N let out a frustrated huff. “Fine, get on with it, I can’t wait to leave the country after this.”

“Do you know of Peter’s boundaries?” Sirius’s voice sounded hoarse, raspy as if he desperately needed water. Maybe that’s what happens when one has just escaped a prison which was believed to prevent escapes.

Y/N’s face transformed into that of an offended expression, “Peter Pettigrew?” Once the man confirmed with a nod of his head, Y/N scoffed at the accusation. “What makes you think I know where he is?”

“Well, you two bear the mark,” The words fell off his tongue without a care for her. “You two sold yourselves to Voldemort, it would only make sense if you knew where the traitor is.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I have no idea of where he is.”

Seconds morphed into minutes, minutes of Sirius’s eyes beaming onto her, “Have you bothered to search for him? Did you even know he was the one who sold out James and Lily to Voldemort?”

“I know a lot of things, Black,” Y/N sneered. “To satisfy your endless questions, I’ve done everything I could to find him when I happened to stumble upon his voice at the Malfoy’s home.”

“You knew that Peter was meeting with Voldemort and you didn’t bother to spend a cent on the thought that it would be James and Lily’s fall? Were you too busy snogging my brother?”

The mention of Regulus sparked up something in her chest, something that spun through hurricanes, Y/N’s expression hardened at the sight of the man, “Do not speak ill of Regulus.”

“Still defending my brother? You two never parted away from each other, every corner I turn at school, you two were always side-by-side.” Sirius could feel the corners of his lips curl up.

“Sirius,” Remus interjected to stop the man, he knew this would not go well if the convict had not held himself back.

“How hard it must’ve been for you to see him gone.”

Y/N could feel her fingers furl with every word he uttered, “He was your brother.”

“Was. I was exiled from my family, remember? You would remember clearly, I remember the day you left home to stay at that horrid place.”

“Sirius, that’s enough.”

“No! Remus! She must know the pain she inflicted onto her parents when she stepped away from that house, the sadness James drowned himself in when he couldn’t find any way to invite you to his wedding.”

“Would you stop mentioning my brother?”

“Oh, so now you consider him with sentiment? What happened to avoiding us?”

“Are you done? I had only prayed the meeting with Remus to be civilized, yet, here you are.” She sneered.

“Why do you fear of talking about James? Are you turning away like a coward? Now?”

“I don’t want to talk about James because I’m not in the mood for it, Sirius.”

“When are you in the mood then? Is it because you are saddened by the fact that you couldn’t take Harry when you visited their house?” Y/N accidentally allowed her eyes to widen at his words “You didn’t think we wouldn’t know?”

“I was in no position to take Harry.”

“You were in every position to take Harry!” Sirius yelled out, his veins popping up to bulge into the air. “You are his blood! His aunt! His godmother!”

“His what?”

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hartigays · 4 years

Note

“I’m in love with you." "Shut up and kiss me."

1. “I’m in love with you.”

4. “Shut up and kiss me.”

steve comes in from the cold with a shiver, knocking his boots against the doorframe to shake loose any remaining snow.

there’s a thin trickle of snot dribbling from steve’s nose, and he wipes it off with a gloved hand, sniffling. he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that his nose is red and chapped after the hours he’d spent outside clearing the traps.

“we get anything good?” hopper asks. he’s squatting by the fireplace, tossing some logs and sticks into the flames.

steve brandishes the belt of rabbits and squirrels he’d collected, smiling. “we did pretty good, all things considered.”

joyce is the first to jump up, examining their kill with a gleeful smile. it’s been a few weeks since they’ve gotten this much in the traps, and they’re in dire need of protein. steve wants to strip a rabbit clean and roast it over the fire to feed el right then and there, her sunken-in eyes concerning him more than anything.

“good thing, too,” joyce says, sighing happily. “we need it. help me in the kitchen, will ya, hop?”

the two disappear into the kitchen, and steve makes his way into the living room, crouching down by the fire to warm his hands. the kids are gathered around under an assortment of blankets; el is curled into max’s side, and will his mimicking their position with mike. dustin and lucas are huddling for warmth as well, curled up under the same flannel blanket.

“we eat tonight?” el asks, fixing steve with inquisitive eyes.

steve nods, leaning over to ruffle her hair. “sure are, kid.”

it’s been over a year since the world went to shit, every corner of the earth crawling with the living dead. they still aren’t sure how it happened, but they’ve managed to adapt as best as they can as a group, under the circumstances.

steve has been thankful since day one that he’d been with the party when this shit went down, rather than home alone in his big, empty house.

joyce and hopper had been holding a family dinner when the world basically ended, so steve had been in the company of them, all the kids, nancy, and jonathan when the first of the flesh-eaters staggered its way onto the porch. el had taken care of it quickly, but it was the first of many.

after that, they’d stayed at the byers house for as long as they could, but it’d been a matter of time before they’d needed to go on the move in search of food. along the way they’d come across robin and heather, trapped in robin’s house with the rotting corpses of her parents.

it hadn’t been more than a few days after picking them up, everyone parked in their cars in a vacant lot trying to ride things out, that a herd had passed through. the group had fought with all their might, but they’d been hopelessly outnumbered.

that is, until one crazy motherfucker with enough firepower to rival a small army came blazing through, blowing the head off of anything that had once been dead and since came back to life.

and that motherfucker had been none other than billy hargrove.

billy had survived the first wave of flesh-eaters by letting them overrun his house, using neil as bait. steve hadn’t asked too many questions about why billy had been so comfortable using his father as a tasty snack for the living dead; he’d met neil once or twice, he didn’t need to ask.

and one good thing about neil was his tendency to stockpile weapons. which, in any other situation, might not look so good. but in these times, it was nothing short of a blessing.

an unfortunate casualty of billy’s neil-turned-zombie-snack plan had been susan. according to billy, he’d tried his hardest to get her to leave with him and max, but she’d refused to leave neil’s side. even after neil turned into a flesh-eating monster, trying to rip her head off, susan had declined to leave her home.

it was only a matter of time before she became dinner for a pea-brained flesh-eater. billy had to pull max away as she kicked and screamed, initially not wanting to accept her mother’s fate. but it was too late - the moment susan had gotten a chunk ripped out of her neck by the thing that had once been her husband, max stopped fighting.

it’d only been a few days later that they’d swung in and saved the party’s collective ass, staving off the now near-inevitable fate of every living creature on this planet. that fate being the inevitability of being torn apart by flesh-eating monsters, only to be reanimated as flesh-hungry monsters themselves.

now, the group is holed up in a dilapidated home that had once been a bed and breakfast of sorts, just trying to ride this shit out without losing their heads. and they haven’t lost anyone yet, by some miraculous stroke of luck.

that isn’t to say that they don’t worry every day that each hour might be their last. but they’re thankful for the small things.

steve acknowledges this now, as he appraises the group of kids before him. although they’re more like teenagers now, having grown up far too fast during all of the chaos.

el opens up the blanket she’s sharing with max, gesturing for steve to come get warm. he accepts her invitation gratefully, curling up under the blanket as another shiver runs through him.

“cold,” el says, her eyes meeting steve’s. she has a hand covering his icy fingers, her brows furrowed in concern. “too cold.”

“don’t worry, kid. i’ll warm him up.”

the voice comes from the hallway, and a moment later billy appears at the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with a toothy smile.

steve can’t help but roll his eyes, even though his stomach does a little flip-flop. el’s eyes flit between them, her brows coming even closer together in confusion.

“ugh,” nancy groans from the kitchen. steve sees her shoot billy a disapproving look. “keep it in the bedroom, hargrove. there are kids here.”

“hey, we’re like, old now. we know what sex is!” dustin protests.

steve chokes on his own spit, his cheeks heating up. “we are not having sex! i don’t even - that’s not even - i can’t believe - that’s just - it’s just. it’s wrong - we don’t even -”

billy gives steve a look, his brows raised, and it effectively cuts off steve’s rambling protests. because, okay, it’s not like billy is wrong, per se. steve has seen billy’s dick more than his own in recent weeks. but really, can anyone blame him? like, it’s the end of the world, for fucks’ sake. it’s not like he has many options to choose from.

and it doesn’t help that billy is, like, disgustingly hot, even after having not showered in months.

maybe steve is just weak. or maybe he’d thought about riding billy into the sunset more often than not before the world decided to go and practically spin off its axis. either way, he doesn’t hold himself solely responsible for having fallen into bed with billy the moment billy had used a cheap pickup line when steve had taken a few too many sips of toilet wine, and had stayed there ever since.

steve heaves himself up off the floor, scuffling over to billy to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “quit it. they don’t need the details.”

“but i like the details,” billy protests, though it’s more to be annoying than to actually argue.

billy tugs steve in by the lapels of his coat, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. steve can’t help but smile into the kiss, his heart doing little somersaults in his chest.

“you did good with the traps,” steve tells him, bumping their noses together. “got enough to last us ‘bout a week.”

“told you they’d work,” billy says, sticking his tongue out. “and you said i was too much of a city boy. better pay up, princess.”

steve rolls his eyes, despite the fact that he’s pulling billy in closer. “i stand corrected. happy now?”

“ecstatic.”

billy leans in for another kiss, but steve steps back with a cheeky smile, backing into the kitchen despite billy’s disbelieving look.

steve helps joyce and hopper strip and clean their kill, stringing up most of it above the fire to form jerky in the smoke. the rest they cook up for their evening meal, finally having enough food for everyone to go to bed with a full stomach.

later, after a long evening spent laughing and eating around the fire, the group turns in for bed, sated and full. steve offers to take on cleanup duty for the evening, so he’s the last to make his way to his room, trudging up the stairs with an armful of blankets.

billy is already laying in bed, lounging in nothing but sweatpants, cocooned in their comforter. they’d originally shared a room with nancy and jonathan, but the two had switched to bunk with robin and heather once they realized billy didn’t care whether or not they were present when he wanted to get laid.

it’s not like steve really cared either - billy is tight and warm and all the things steve wants to bury himself into after a long day of trying to survive. and it can’t be said that billy isn’t a giver either - he has a dick and he knows how to use it. steve can attest to that fact. he’s experienced far too many days of not being able to walk straight to say anything less.

and billy’s appetites aren’t anything steve can complain about, because they now have a room to themselves. which is nice for reasons other than being able to pound each other into their mattress. they can stay up late whispering to each other, talking about the future and their dreams and how they feel.

turns out billy isn’t just busting it open for steve’s monster dick. he’s after steve’s heart, too, and steve is more than happy to give it to him. despite billy being an absolute tool in high school, he’s turned out to be a soft-hearted romantic in the midst of the apocalypse.

“you’ve gotta stop alluding to our sex life in front of the kids,” steve says as he crawls into bed, having changed into a warm set of flannel pajamas that he’d grabbed from a wal-mart on one of their many food runs.

billy just looks at him, his blue eyes big and innocent. “but how else will everyone know you’re mine?”

steve snorts, snacking billy’s bare shoulder. “i think you’ve made that abundantly clear. seriously, hop is gonna force us to sit down with him and have ‘the talk’ if you don’t cut it out.”

“sounds sexy,” billy says with a wink, and steve can’t help his cackle. “‘sides, they said it themselves. they’re not kids anymore.”

“it’s still weird,” steve groans. “and you act like they don’t hear us railing each other nine times out of ten. the walls here are like paper.”

“railing each other, huh? i don’t believe you. i think we need to test that out to see if that’s actually what we do.”

steve shoves billy with a groan that’s half a laugh. “oh my god, you’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“only for you, sweetheart,” billy tells him, tongue poking out between his teeth.

“shut up and kiss me, asshole.”

billy normally would challenge steve given the insult, but not tonight. instead, he rolls over, tugging steve in and sealing their lips together with a contented sigh. steve isn’t sure if it’s because he’d been gone for hours clearing the traps, or if billy is just in a cuddly mood, but steve certainly isn’t complaining. he just kisses billy until both of their lips are swollen and bruised.

it’s when they break apart that billy fixes steve with a wide-eyed stare, his chest heaving a little. “i’m in love with you.”

steve’s heart feels like it stops in chest, and his mouth pops open in surprise. “wait, seriously?”

it’s not what steve means to say, but it’s not innaccurate. he is in disbelief, just a little. billy looks kind of self-conscious, his eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. he rolls onto his back, putting some distance between them.

steve reaches out and catches billy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “hey, i didn’t - that’s not what i meant. i mean, i love you too. i thought that was obvious.”

billy’s head snaps over to look at him, his eyes narrowed. “yeah? you’re not just saying that ‘cause i’m the only hot piece of ass left within a fifty-mile radius?”

“you were the only hot piece of ass within a fifty-mile radius before the world ended,” steve mutters, his thumb rubbing across the softness of billy’s skin. “i mean, seriously. i didn’t need the dead to rise up for me to know that.”

“oh,” billy says, and steve can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “thought you were only in it ‘cause you didn’t have any options left. y’know, nancy having ditched you for stalker boy and robin liking pussy and all.”

steve shoots billy a disbelieving look, snorting softly. “billy, you literally had me getting hard for you in the showers after basketball practice. doesn’t bother me than you’re not a girl, if that’s what you’re worried about. i fucked tommy when i was fourteen.”

billy chokes out a surprised laugh, and it echoes around the room. “you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“nope.”

“well, shit. thought you were straight as an arrow before all this,” billy says thoughtfully. “would’ve paid to see you fuck hagan. bet he cries when he cums.”

“nah, he giggles. which is somehow weirder,” steve laughs. “wonder if he’s dead.”

“dunno, saw him with perkins at the school when everyone was gathering there for that refugee camp they kept talking about. got overrun, last i heard,” billy says with a shrug. “maybe he made it out.”

“i hope so,” steve hums, then shrugs when billy gives him a pointed look. “he was my best friend once upon a time, you know. just ‘cause you’re jealous doesn’t mean i hope he’s dead.”

“yeah, yeah,” billy snorts, rolling his eyes. “can we fuck now? i need to get the image of you pounding hagan out of my mind.”

“why, that get you worked up?” steve teases, poking at billy’s cheek with his index finger.

billy just catches steve’s wrists in his hands and rolls him onto his back, straddling his hips and pinning him to the mattress. steve can’t help but giggle when billy leans down to kiss him, tangling his fingers in his curls when billy releases his wrists.

the world is a bleak place these days, but steve has carved out his own slice of happiness despite it. smiling into billy’s kisses, the warm weight of billy on top of him, grounding him, steve knows he’ll do whatever it takes to defend his little piece of paradise.

and maybe it’s not what steve envisioned for himself back when he was an idealistic teenager. but he’s not going to argue it. it’s not like they have much left to find joy in, after all.

steve will take whatever piece of it that he can get.

send me super sappy prompts!

#i love me a good apocalypse au!!#hope u like this bby 💕💕#harringrove #my fics #ask #dracula-incarnate

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angelicspaceprince · 4 years

Text

Dewey x Crafter Reader Headcanons

Ive fallen down a rabbit hole of crafting and I can't get up. Help me. I write hcs to help save my soul

I'll also edit when I have computer access so then there is a read more button or whatever they're called, I can't find it on mobile

Wrote directly onto the tumblr app so if there are any mistakes that's why. No betas, we die by our spelling and grammar mistakes here

You were a crafter before you met Dewey, having taken up most crafts by the time you were 17

Sewing, needlepoint, embroidery, cross stitch, knitting, crocheting

You'd experimented with them all and even though each one had its merits, you definitely had your favourites

Then life happened. You had to start working, unable to attend college, and soon you had no time to craft. If you were awake, you were working

Mostly low paying jobs to cover rent, bills etc, taking on as many shifts as possible

It was actually during one of your shifts you met Dewey

You started working at a local music shop, mostly serving and organising CDs when a very excited Dewey rocked up, wanting to find the newest release for one of his favourite bands

You got to talking and realised that you had similar music tastes and, even though you really wanted to get to know him more, you had to remain professional. You were still on the clock

Luckily for you, however, you were invited to go see a group of local bands performing to celebrate your friend's birthday

You recognized Dewey the moment he stepped on stage and was in awe at his musical skill

You figured it'd be weird to go up to him and start talking because a) if he didn't recognize you then having a stranger come up to you and say that you remembered him from work would be odd and b) if he DID recognize you from work that'd be even odder

You didn't want to give off stalker vibes, so you stayed at the bar, content just to leave it

Dewey, however, saw you in the crowd and had a different plan in mind

Still riding the adrenaline high from being on stage, he walked straight up to you

"I don't know if you remember me, bu-"

"I remember you."

"Oh."

You both blushed heavily as you shift in your seat. "Drink?" You offered. "I....I liked talking to you earlier, I'd like to talk some more."

Dewey positively beamed at that, sitting down next to you as you effectively start ignoring your friend's birthday party celebrations in favour of talking to the man in front of you

The rest, as they say, was history

You ended up dating pretty quickly after you first met, moving in with each other after only dating for 6 months

It was an accident, you had your power cut off (again) and it was the middle of winter. Dewey offered you a warm place to stay temporarily and after 4 weeks of looking for a new apartment, he just said "you're already living here, just move in with me."

It made things easier, now there were two people contributing to bills

Rent was never paid in full, but something was always sent in

Patty wasn't impressed by that but Ned wasn't as fussed, just happy to have something coming in

It helped that he really liked you and felt that you were a good fit for Dewey

Even though things still remained tough, you were happy just to have a roof over your head and someone who loved you

When Dewey started working for Horace Green, things became easier

Bills were paid with his paycheck, yours became groceries and fuel money

Even then, for the first time in a long time, you had spare cash

Most went into savings but being able to afford your own Netflix account? Felt amazing

Despite having a bit of extra money, some habits were hard to break.

You rarely bought clothing from anywhere but thrift stores and Walmart, Dewey prefering Walmart but essentially doing the same thing

Unfortunately, that meant the clothing you had bought wasn't always the best of quaility, especially when Dewey was the one wearing it

Just the nature of his jumpy, clutzy, accident prone and slightly messy self meant you were constantly buying him new shirts and mending his sweater vests

To be honest, it was getting old

You'd also been missing crafting for a while so. Two birds, one stone

The next time you were in Walmart alone, you grabbed yarn and knitting needles and on the few days a week you were home alone, slowly you started to knit him some new sweater vests, using an old one that was beyond repair as the template to make sure each one fit

The first one was just a plain, fadded red to get yourself back into practice before slowly beginning to add simple designs similar to the few he owned now

Then a couple of weird themed ones, a couple of his favourite bands, one with music notes in the design, one that was birthday themed, one with mini guitars, whatever amused you and you thought would amuse him, you knitted onto the sweater

Each vest took three weeks to make. By the time his birthday came around, you had made him ten new vests, having kept it a secret the entire time

You were super nervous when he opened up his present, but the giant smile on his face was worth it, excited with the concert tickets you managed to get for the two of you (in the pit, of course) and with each new sweater, he got more and more excited

"These are amazing babe! Where did you get them?" He asked as he got up to try his favourite (the one with a replica of his Gibson knitted around the bottom) on

You go quiet. "I....uh.....I made them."

He looked over at you like you just admitted you had found a cure for cancer

You'd neglected to tell him of your crafting past, it never came up so you never said

Now, however, he was keen to see you craft

He never even dared to try it out for himself, but enjoyed watching you knit or crochet without looking at your work, watching TV or chatting to Dewey as you just continued to work

Every year, he got at least two sweaters from you, and you made sure to knit a sensible one and a silly one

What amazed you was the fact that Dewey seemed to have fewer accidents

He took extra special care of all of the stuff you make him, never spilling so much as a drop of coffee on them and tried his best not to get them snagged on the one sharp part of the doorway into his office

One day he came home, nearly in tears

You were folding up laundry but you dropped everything and came rushing over, thinking the absolute worst but instead he simply pushed something into your hands and said "I'm so sorry"

Turns out, he took off his vest when he came in to play a song with the kindergartners, something he now does daily as part of his role as music teacher

He didn't notice one of the kids grabbing it and wandering off with it

It was covered in paint, one of the Gibsons were cut out and the yarn was beginning to unravel, despite clear attempts to keep it from doing so

It was ruined

You hush Dewey as you pull him close and reassure him it's ok, you can make him another one

It took a while to settle him, he treasured everything you made him and he allowed one to get ruined

But once you assured him it was fine and you knew it was an accident, you ended up spooning in the couch as you mentally start planning the new sweater

A month passed when he found a wrapped up parcel on his desk

He was running late, didn't have time to grab a coffee and accidentally grabbed his vest with a massive hole in the back rather than one of your handcrafted ones

Still, he made it to the classroom before any students arrived, so he quickly opened it up and a huge smile plastered its way onto his face

A new sweater vest that was near identicle to his ruined one, a bit cleaner and better designed than the old one

You'd also made him a pair of socks, something you'd been experimenting with, with the AC/DC logos on the side

He found the note at the bottom 'Hope you have a good day. I love you. Y/N. P.S. These are not allowed near the kindergartners ❤'

He quickly changed into the sweater, feeling so much better than he did 5 minutes ago

The socks became his lucky socks and he'd wear them to his gigs, stating that it was like you were up there with him

He shushed you when you pointed out that it meant he was technically stepping on you, telling you "you know what I mean" before giving you a kiss

He'd give you requests for scarves, beanies, the lot. Socks were for bed or performances only, apparently, but everything else was worn whenever

You even made beanies and scarves for members of the band who wanted them, each having the School of Rock logo on it plus the kid's name

Dewey loves wearing and telling everyone about the stuff you make because he thinks it's absolutely incredible you're able to create something like this

And he treasures everything you make him

Most importantly, he's there to listen when you rant that the yarn isn't working like it should, or just about crafting problems in general, and be an ear as you problem solve an issue and is there to celebrate the victories when it finally works

Gets really good at yarn shopping too, picks up the brands you prefer and learns to read the packaging labels

Just

He loves the fact you can create something just like he can

#school of rock musical headcanons #school of rock headcanons #school of rock the musical #school of rock musical #school of rock #dewey finn headcanons #dewey finn/reader #dewey finn #dewey finn x reader #ama writes #amas stuff

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loveyouforevergrace · 3 years

Text

My Friendship With Grace

Grace and I met in my eighth grade math class, though it was seventh grade for her. She was honestly way too smart to be in the class, but she was required to have a math class on her seventh grade schedule, so she got pulled into the advanced algebra class for eighth graders. She barely showed up most days because she went to a special group where she learned concepts and formulas that I won’t get around to until my senior year of college. On the days Grace did show up however, she pestered me a lot. Being pestered wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, I didn’t mind her too much. She had braces, I had braces; she was kind of a nerd, and I was kind of a nerd too--it worked out. I would desperately try to figure out the answers of my homework (I still don’t quite understand trigonometry), and Grace would take my phone and play games on it for the entire class. I was definitely fond of her, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. If someone had told me that the eleven year old girl clicking away at Tap Tap Fish on my iPhone SE would grow up to be my best friend, I would’ve told them they were crazy.

Grace and I have an incredible amount of overlap between our interests, which is coincidentally how we reconnected as I went into high school and she stayed in middle school. I was playing a god awful video game with my friends one summer afternoon, League of Legends, and somehow ended up on a team with Grace in it. She entered the call and I recognized her squeaky voice immediately, so we both got talking again pretty quickly. At the time, we bonded over our unfortunate addiction to video games, and our love for Panic! At the Disco, though I like to believe our interests have become a little more refined in recent years. These days we like to go shopping, or just talk about clothes nonstop. We watch anime together, and we’ve moved on from sucking at League of Legends to building dreamy treehouses in Minecraft. In my opinion, our music taste has definitely developed too. She’s fallen down the K-Pop rabbit hole, whereas I’m a bit more into R&B and hip-hop. Despite our differences, I can always trust Grace with the aux cord. Deep down, I don’t think either of us is entirely out of our pop punk phase either. We’ve definitely had some interesting moments in the kitchen as well, whether that’s making an actual meal, or messing around with those DIY cooking kits meant for children. We did once make an entire Thanksgiving dinner for our friend group, and it was pretty damn good if I do say so myself. Additionally, we’re lovers of all things cute (which is definitely reflected in our Thanksgiving pie), and whenever I’m visiting her, we go on frequent Daiso (a chain of dollar stores with objects imported from Japan) trips to stock up on stationary, matching keychains, and other silly trinkets we don’t really need.

That’s the one disadvantage to the friendship--I have to visit Grace, and I don’t mean a walk across the street, a twenty minute bike ride, or even an hour long drive. I mean a three hour plane ride. Right before my freshman year, Grace’s dad got a new job opportunity working in Seattle, Washington. Essentially, she was torn out of the Midwestern cornfields and dropped off at a new trendy school in a new trendy neighborhood on the west coast as soon as we had started getting close. However, this didn’t stop us from deepening our bond. We did a surprisingly good job at staying in touch, and for the past five years we’ve been able to text for hours a day and call several times a week. As much as we both wish we could meet up at a small cafe for weekly study sessions, it’s just not possible, but we improvise. I’ve spent many nights on the phone with Grace while we watch cheesy animes, eat cut up fruit, and work on our homework. We miss each other like crazy, and COVID hasn’t made that any easier, but the saying “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” couldn’t be any more true.

When Grace and I do get the chance to be together, we go all out. I don’t know any friends who hang out quite the way we do. I don’t know anyone besides Grace who I’d be comfortable sharing a bath with while we wait for our lasagna to finish cooking in the oven. None of my other friends will have a candlelit dinner with me while listening to the Minecraft soundtrack, nor will they wake up at six in the morning to eat strawberries with me while we watch the sunrise. We once found out we were gonna be in the same airport at the same time, and decided to eat breakfast together before we had to part ways. We spend hours walking around the Mall of America since none of the malls in Washington even come close to comparing. One time we went to the art museum and pointed out any sculptures and paintings with two people in them that reminded us of ourselves.

That brings me to another point - Grace and I are insane at gift giving. With her sheer artistic talent, and my uncontrollable spending habits, we really do each other justice. Those sculptures that I mentioned Grace and I compared ourselves to? She made me a mini version of them for Christmas. No one else has ever taken the time to do something like that for me. This goes both ways. I know no one has ever gifted Grace an enormous package filled with nothing but merchandise from her favorite Sanrio character, Keroppi, or gifted her an entire outfit (complete with accessories) on her birthday. Even the letters she writes to me feel like tiny presents, they’re always handwritten and covered in adorable little stickers. She seals the envelopes with a wax stamp and everything. No one has ever done something so romantic for me before, not even my last boyfriend who I dated for two years.

I can tell Grace literally anything, and she can tell me anything too. I’ve found that in most relationships, there’s always certain things you can’t say to the other person. I’m bound to clash with almost everyone in my life at one point or another, and I can’t vent about someone’s BS to their own face. Even though things do get talked out with them eventually, it’s often after I have a lot of reflection and planning on how I want to discuss things. Grace is the exception to that--I can tell her anything. We almost never fight or get upset with each other. In fact, the only time we’ve ever had friend problems was when a girl at Grace’s school wasn’t too fond of me dating her ex-boyfriend, and she tried to mess with our friendship as a result. As you can probably guess, we got it figured out pretty quickly.

The bond Grace and I share is definitely not a common one to find. I’ve had friends tell me how badly they wish they had a friendship like Grace and I have, and honestly, I don’t blame them. I love every single one of my friends so much, but there’s such a great connection Grace and I have through our enjoyment of general dumbassery, but also our appreciation for things that are romantic and adorable. She’s the homemade whipped cream to my strawberry pie, the Dancing Figure #1 to my Dancing Figure #2. I want Grace to be in my life for a very long time, and I don’t doubt that’ll happen. I can’t wait for us to fall victim to the 50% divorce rate when we’re in our forties, and realize that “she was the one” all along. And I’m only half kidding.

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shes-the-smoke · 5 years

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ryden fic recommendations:

1. throam (obviously)

set in the 1970s, ryan is a famous musician and brendon is a roadie who goes on tour with the band. very long, very emotional. 9.5/10

2. in case the scene gets nasty

hs au. ryan and brendon are rivals and get stuck in detention with each other. typical “enemies to lovers” fic. 7/10

3. infinite sometimes

hs au. i haven’t read this in a long time but i do remember that it was very fluffy and cute. one of them has trauma to work through and the other helps. 6/10

4. the black rose season

college au. ryan is appointed to join a fraternity in order to find out more about a secret society that may or may not exist. so many plot twists, kinda cliche at the same time but overall good. 7/10

5. the red-eyed owl trilogy

hockey au. ryan is an nhl player, and brendon is hired as his teams physiotherapist. i’ve read this one so many times, it’s so angsty and amazing. 9/10

6. back to the place

my favorite fic besides throam. ryan takes brendon back to The Cabin a few years after the band went there the first time. angsty and beautiful. 10/10

7. down the rabbit hole

ryan goes to spencer’s wedding, where he sees brendon again. so good, so angsty. 8/10

8. abomination

hs au. ryan’s dad is a pastor, and being gay is wrong. then he meets brendon. this fic is a little cliché but i still really liked it. 7/10

9. sk8er boi

brendon didn’t like picking his little sister up from her ice skating lessons, but hey, at least the coach was hot. very good very cute fic, but hard to find. 8/10

10. first base

hs/baseball au. ryan’s on the school baseball team and brendon is in love with him. 6/10

11. your heart’s a mess

one year since the split, and brendon’s not doing too well. pete comes up to a plan: make ryan fall in love with him again. this one is cheesy but i liked it. 7/10

12. the impossible is possible

hs au. brendon moves high schools and meets a disturbed teen named ryan. i don’t remember much from this story because i only read it once, but it was good. 6/10

13. my heart speaks

ryan works at build-a-bear workshop, and brendon comes in way too often. cute fic. 7/10

14. posing in a ballroom

ryan and brendon are both from well off families. ryan develops a crush, brendon and spencer are step brothers. this one is controversial, whoever reads it either really likes it or really doesn’t. it has step brother incest in it, and i couldn’t get past that. 4/10

15. gold and coal

set during the london industrial revolution era, ryan is dirt poor and works in a factory. brendon is his boss’s son. this one is so good, i’ve read it multiple times. 8/10

16. a little more touch me

brendon has a thing for ryan’s hands. i was recommended this one not knowing it was basically pwp, but it was still good. 5/10

17. the remarkable misfortunes of ryan ross

fantasy au. brendon is prince with a “preference” towards boys. his father, the king, gets him ryan as a “present” until his desires pass. what happens is not at all what you’d expect. massive tw for this one. it’s very violent and hard to read at times but it’s an incredible story. 8.5/10

18. no use in turnin’ on your light

ryan is a folksinger who moves in next door to brendon during the summer of 1963. kind of slow burn but so good. 8/10

19. miguel sanchez’s grand slam of love

tennis au. ryan is the greatest tennis player there is, until a an up-and-coming newbie beats him at his own game. a rivalry is born, and blossoms into something more. this one is so underrated, i love it. 9/10

20. footsteps in the snow

fantasy/soulmate au. in a world where soulmates used to exist, two people might have found each other against all the odds. this one is just so good, i love it. 8/10

21. iron, neon lights, and weed

brendon wants a record deal more than anything. but when he’s suddenly thrust into the las vegas underground music scene, he falls for someone who, unfortunately, isn’t interested in attachments. great fic, i’ve read it a few times. 8/10

22. the key of victory

brendon goes on a music game show where all the contestants live in one house. there he meets ryan. this fic was a little different and i liked it a lot. 8/10

23. filthy lucre

brendon is a hooker, and ryan is the son of a billionaire. they keep meeting. i love this one, i’ve read it multiple times. it’s unfinished but has enough chapters that it doesn’t seem like it ends abruptly. 9/10

24. burning down cathedrals

brendon is a musician who gets ryan signed. 7/10

25. two weeks in hawaii

ryan is left at the alter by his fiancé, and goes on his honeymoon alone. he meets brendon. this one was a little fast paced for me, but still so cute. 8/10

26. oh doctor doctor

hospital au. ryan ross is the head surgeon, and brendon has fallen in love with him. it’s just so cute. 6/10

27. coffee

coffeeshop/hs au. ryan works at starbucks, and brendon moves in with him and jon. very angsty, but very cute. 8/10

28. this happy ending’s just beginning

brendon wants to be in a disney land parade. fortunately, a certain prince can get him exactly what he wants. cute fic, cliché but good. 7/10

(the last three fics were recommended by the amazing @incorrectthroam)

#panic! at the disco #p!atd #ryden #ryan ross #brendon urie #jon walker #spencer smith #the heart rate of a mouse #throam #fic rec #fanfic #fanfiction #ryden fic #ryden fanfiction

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 3: Ruby

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry wants to be good enough, and Y/N is confused.

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Word count: 5.5k

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Chapter 2: Castles In The Air - Y/N can’t stop worrying about Harry, but she isn’t the only one.

The next morning, Y/N showed up at work like nothing was wrong. With a smile plastered on her face, she busied herself by doing all the tasks in the bookstore, including the ones assigned to Alice. She thought if she didn't have time to sit down and rest, she wouldn't think about yesterday, but once in a while, she still got tempted and ended up checking her messages. All she'd received were those annoying phone ads, nothing from her boyfriend, not even a breakup text. She had to prepare herself for the worst.

While lost in thoughts, Y/N heard her boss calling out her name and hopped off the stool to go see what he needed. The man was sitting behind the reception counter, hunching down so his face was nearly in contact with the page as if his thick glasses couldn't do their job. He was writing something and immediately looked up when Y/N said his name.

"Here you are," said Eddie as he pushed his glasses upward as it kept sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Last week you asked me for five days off from the 24th to the 28th, right?"

Y/N furrowed her brows, looking quite confused as the man squinted his gray eyes at her. "You said your best friends were getting married?"

"Right! Yeah, they are...they are getting married!" She chuckled nervously, making that truthful answer sound like one of those excuses she'd used to get away with being lazy. Her two high school best friends, Celine and Amala, were getting married in three weeks in Holmes Chapel. They'd always talked about how they had wanted to say "I do" right by the lake where they'd had their first date. And Y/N had even volunteered to be their maid of honor. She wanted to blame the recent drama for distracting her, but there was no justifiable excuse for being a shit friend.

Eddie closed the notebook as he put down the pen, his lips formed a hard line. "Unfortunately, I won't be here that week and Alice cannot be alone in the store."

"No!" Y/N gripped the edge of the counter, shaking her head so fast it might fall off. "That's my best friends' wedding, Ed! I'm their maid of honor!"

"I'm sorry, Y/N. There's nothing I can do."

"Come on, sweet Eddie! You know I cannot miss the wedding!" The girl pleaded, her hands clasped together as she rested her elbows on the counter, blinking her eyes at him.

Eddie gulped and out of habit adjusted his glasses again. He appeared more like a teenage boy than a thirty-year-old man. It wasn't just his ageless face; it was also the fact that he still lived with his parents and had never kissed a girl. Y/N found out from his mother, who often brought him lunch and embarrassed him as any mother would, as if it wasn't already obvious. No matter how hard Eddie tried to act cool, he still got nervous around Y/N and Alice, which was why they constantly took advantage of his naivety to get what they wanted. This time, however, he stuck to his decision.

"No means no, Y/N." Eddie shook his head, unfazed by how fast her smile dropped. "You've been here for 225 days, and today is the first day you've actually worked. You're lucky I'm still paying you."

"I...worked when you weren't here."

"Nice try, but the answer's still no."

Just like that, he got to his feet and walked back inside. Y/N intended to follow, not wanting to give up so easily, but as soon as she took a step forward, the little bell above the entrance got her full attention. She turned quickly, opening her mouth to say hello only to freeze when she saw who it was.

"I'm here for the pretty girl named Y/N," Harry said with a warm smile that made her stomach go fuzzy. She was speechless for a moment before finally snapping out of it as he came closer.

"The pretty girl named Y/N isn't here. This one is all you've got." She pressed her lips into a grin as color heightened on her sweet oval face.

"This one is enough," Harry replied calmly, leaving Y/N once again tongue-tied, and confused. Since they met again in Holmes Chapel, he'd been acting weird and she'd been wondering a lot. Was it because he still had feelings for her, or was there something else she did not know? It would not make any difference to know the truth now she was with Isaac. Still, she couldn't help but think about it over and over again. And if Isaac was right, that Harry was still in love with Ruby, what was the point of him looking at her this way?

"Uhm...I'm here to return your jacket." Handing it back to her, he pressed his lips into a small grin to ease the awkward tension between them.

"How do you know I work here?" She asked with caution, watching him put the jeans jacket on the countertop.

"I asked Niall." Of course, Y/N thought to herself, taking a deep breath. For a second she had hoped he'd talked to Isaac, but that idea seemed so far-fetched for now Isaac didn't even talk to her.

Biting her lip, she pointed to his injured knee. "Thought you weren't allowed to leave your house."

"I'm not." He chuckled slightly, giving her a shrug. "But I got bored."

Thea rolled her eyes at the playful answer she had expected. With a smile, she thanked him for returning her jacket, but then said, "I really like to chat, but as you can see, I'm on my shift."

"Oh." He gave her half a smile, shaking his head. "Can you give me five minutes? I wanna show you something."

Yes, she could give him five minutes. She had given him many years of her life, so five more minutes wouldn't make a big difference. But what if they did? What if those five minutes drove them down the same dead-end road again? The hug they had shared in the hospital lasted no longer than five minutes, and it had brought them so much trouble with their significant others. So even though that sounded like a simple yes-no question, but to Y/N, it certainly wasn't simple.

Her thought process was cut short by Alice's deafening scream which nearly broke all windows in this place. Eddie had to drop whatever he was doing at the back to see for himself what was happening here. And his reaction when seeing Harry, though not as dramatic as Alice's, was somewhat similar.

"H-Harry Styles!" The man laughed loudly, admiration lit up his face as he threw his hands in the air. "Harry Styles is in my bookstore, everyone!"

Needless to say, Y/N was shocked. It was only then that she remembered Harry wasn't just Harry. He was also that award-winning actor whose face was everywhere on billboards and magazines. She had known him her whole life thus she sometimes forgot how big and famous he'd become. She might have to get used to this at some point.

"Hi! How can we help you, sir?" Alice said as she pushed Y/N aside with her hip to catch Harry's attention. Eddie was even more competitive. He grabbed Alice's elbow, pulling her back to take her place and speak loudly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles! I'm the store owner and whatever you're looking for we—"

"I'm here for Y/N actually," Harry interrupted the man, pointing to his Bambi, and the smiles on Alice's and Eddie's face had never fallen so fast. They looked at each other, then at Y/N, then at each other again. It didn't take too long for them to figure it out.

"Wait, Harry Styles is...your friend?" Y/N could only nod, watching Alice's massive blue eyes grow even bigger as she turned back to Harry. "Y/N is like a sister to me so can I please take a photo with you?!"

"Me too!" Eddie jumped right in, raising his hand. "I...I want a photo too...please?"

It was no surprise that Alice was crazy for Harry, most of the girls her age were. What Y/N could never have guessed was Eddie being obsessed with Harry too. He seemed like one of those hardcore sci-fi nerds, not someone who would go insane for an actor in romantic movies. But she could judge him later, now was a good opportunity to ask for that one-week off.

"Ed." She tapped the man on the shoulder but he brushed her hand right off. So she tried again by raising her voice. "Ed, hey, about my request—"

"Take as many days off as you want," said Eddie as he pushed her out of the way to pose for a selfie with his favorite actor. He seemed so excited, making her wish she could film this and make fun of him later.

As soon as he finished, Alice jumped right in and didn't hesitate to ask for a kiss on the cheek. She said she wanted to make her Instagram followers jealous, and so Harry laughed and asked which cheek she wanted him to kiss.

"Okay, that's enough. Harry must go now," Y/N spoke once they had taken the photo. She managed to free Harry from Alice and pushed him towards the entrance, but he refused to leave and insisted on showing her something first. She couldn't have guessed what it was, yet she knew they could never talk when the other two were here. So while Alice and Eddie were busy sending those photos to everyone, Y/N took Harry to the furthest aisle from the entrance. Now they could have their conversation in peace.

It was so quiet here that even the sound of them breathing became loud, and she was afraid he might hear how hard her heart was thumping. But Harry was just as nervous, his ragged breathing gave himself away. It wasn't their fault that the aisle was so dark and narrow, they both stood with their backs against the shelves, but if either took a step forward, her forehead would touch his chest. That would be very awkward, she imagined.

"Five minutes," she whispered, crossing her arms while holding his stare. And when his dimples appeared, her heart melted fast like ice-cream on a hot summer day.

Y/N remembered this feeling, vividly. In fact, she hadn't felt it with anyone else besides him, and it scared her because she didn't want to fall down that rabbit hole again. Tucking a loose strand behind her ear, she cleared her throat and gathered all the confidence she had left to smile back at him. "So, you were gonna show me something?"

"Oh, yeah...right." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head like a nervous teenage boy as he turned on his phone. Y/N always thought the gesture was endearing, and every time he did that, her heart swelled again. She took a small step closer to look at the screen, muttering a faint "sorry" when her arm slightly bumped against his. Though they had hugged twice, she hadn't noticed until now that he was wearing a different fragrance. She must stop herself from thinking about his new scent, and why she still remembered what he smelt like a year ago to compare.

"Gemma sent me these this morning," Harry said as he showed her the photos of his home in Holmes Chapel. They had finished repairing it, and now the place looked as good as new, perhaps even better. "Robin's youngest daughter is moving abroad, so he and my mum are selling his house and moving back into ours."

"That's great, Harry!"

"Yeah." He chuckled at her excited reaction. "Mum is so obsessed with the garden, I don't think she'll ever want to be away from it for too long."

"She and I both," Y/N said with a soft grin. "When I was little, your mother's garden was like Wonderland to me. I used to envy you for it."

The memories made Harry smile. "But you have Marcy now. I think she did a great job taking care of your house. The flower garden was beautiful before the storm."

"How do you know how it looked before the storm?" Y/N asked in a doubtful little voice and the man in front of her froze to the spot. He wasn't supposed to know about Marcy's flower garden since he had never seen it before. When he came back to Holmes Chapel, that garden had been destroyed, and it was impossible to tell how beautiful it used to be.

Now Harry's good-looking face was taut with angst. He shouldn't have been so careless. If she found out he'd seen the garden when he came back last year, for her, would she start acting distant towards him? He'd lost her as a lover already, he couldn't bear the thought of losing her as a friend too, not again.

While his mind was racing with thoughts, he blurted out the first thing he came up with, "your dad sent me some photos."

"When?"

"After the wedding."

Y/N said nothing else, but judging by that quizzical look, he knew his made-up reason didn't fool her. Harry hoped she would let this go, because if she asked Bradford and found out he was lying, he wouldn't know what to do.

Their private moment was, once again, intruded by Eddie and Alice, who seemed thrilled to know Harry was still here. Eddie immediately showed Harry the online article on his tablet. "You're doing another movie with Ruby Ellis?!" He asked, to the actor's surprise.

"Are you two back together?" Alice jumped right in, both hands clasped in front of her chest. Harry stole a quick glance at Y/N as he prayed she would believe him instead of them.

"We were never together," he said.

"But you should be! You two are the reason I'm bisexual."

"Alice!" Y/N cried out. As harmless as Alice's inappropriate joke sounded, it surely made Y/N and Harry uncomfortable. If only Harry could reassure her she was the only woman he loved. But how would he say those words and make them sincere, when in reality he was still sleeping with Ruby?

"There's more chemistry between you and Ruby than a science lab," Eddie added, seemingly proud of his own joke because Alice was laughing as well. Y/N, on the other hand, could only twitch her lips to show amusement which wasn't even there. Harry's eyes were fixed on her, yet she didn't spare him a single glance. It now began to dawn on him that all effort he exerted to prove that he'd changed, would all go to waste if he kept sneaking around with another woman. It was easy to believe in the obvious, and right now, to Y/N, the obvious was him loving Ruby, and not her.

"Isaac!" Alice shouted, causing Harry to turn his head to the end of the aisle. His brain stuttered for a moment and every part of him paused for his thoughts to catch up. Isaac looked him in the eyes, it wasn't the type of look someone would give their best friend. And Harry felt his limbs go numb for a second there.

"We just found out Y/N knows Harry Styles," Alice said happily, hugging Y/N's arm but the older girl didn't react. Her mind was racing a mile a minute and the big lump in her throat kept her from breaking this awkward silence. Harry already knew it was time for him to go.

"It's nice catching up with you, Y/N," he said and left so fast he forgot about goodbye.

Y/N didn't know which was worse, Isaac and Harry acting like two strangers, or Harry calling her Y/N instead of Bambi. Her limpid eyes stayed on the man she once loved until he was gone, and soon shifted back to the man she was supposed to love. Now that Eddie and Alice had followed Harry to the door, she was left alone with Isaac, surrounded by an overwhelming silence.

She had been expecting a call or a text from him since last night, but now he was here, she felt more afraid than relieved. All the things she had planned to say to him had vanished at once. Her face went pale, and she was picking at her arm as he approached.

"Can we talk?" He asked her.

There were two questions Y/N hated the most: this one, and "do you love me?" She hated to say them but she hated to hear them even more, yet now she was about to face one of them or both. Taking a deep breath, she gave Isaac a small nod, and they stood in the same positions she and Harry had earlier. But instead of ease and contentment, all she could feel now was anxiety and fear.

Looking down to avoid eye-contact, she noticed Isaac tapping his right foot rapidly. She could guess confronting her had really frayed his nerves. He stood with his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment. The tense atmosphere surrounding them didn't help them feel less trapped.

"I'm sorry about last night," he spoke at last. "I could've handled the situation better, but I...uhm...It wasn't right to raise my voice at you and say what I said..."

"You don't have to apologize," she cut him off but he raised both hands to stop her there.

"I do," he asserted, shaking his head fast. "But...I'm not only here to apologize. I think we really need to talk...about us, and Harry."

"Nothing happened between Harry and I. I swear," Y/N blurted. "You have to trust me. I would never do that to you."

"I know. But I wish you had," Isaac muttered, his voice was weak and hoarse. He could tell from the way her face scrunched up that she didn't get it, so he had to explain. "I wish you'd done something wrong, so it wouldn't be so hard to let you go."

"What...what do you mean?" Y/N gulped, her hands were shaking so much she had to hide them behind her back. She didn't want to believe this. She couldn't. "Are you...breaking up with me?"

Isaac's silence was already the answer. Y/N knew that look on his face, and she'd seen it once before when her first love came to tell her they would not work. She had never thought she would see it again, at least not on Isaac, the one person she was sure that would never leave her.

"You know I love you," he lowered his voice to a whisper. Sadness soon transformed her face as she reached out to hold his hand. "And I love you," she breathed. "You know I do."

"Not the same way that you love him, not as much. Never as much." That statement sent Y/N straight to silence. Her heart was pounding out of her chest as he looked into her eyes to make sure she heard every single word he said. "I know you want to believe we're good together and you should be with me. I've been telling myself the same thing, but a part of me always knew we'd been a lost cause from the start. And it's on me because I should've given up when you pushed me away. I should never have taken advantage of when you were most vulnerable to step in."

"No, please don't say that. You did nothing wrong..."

"Hey, hey, it's alright." Isaac held her pouting face as his lips curved into a small smile, but she knew he was far from happy to say these words. "It doesn't matter who's at fault. Maybe we both are..." He exhaled while stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "But it's time for me to let you go. Not because I don't love you or that I'm angry at you. I love you, I do, and I know you love me too. But there's always gonna be him. And a relationship won't work if we're not each other's one and only."

"We were happy," Y/N blurted as she looked at him with lifeless eyes.

"Yes, we were." Isaac gave her a small nod, not breaking their eye contact. "But we won't be happy forever if we continue lying to ourselves. You believe you should be with me because it's easier than being with him. But let me tell you this, when something's easy, it doesn't always mean that it's also right."

With one last kiss on her forehead, Isaac walked away without saying goodbye. Maybe he was so quick to leave because he couldn't show her how hurt he truly was. But watching him go was definitely heartbreaking. And soon after he had left, Y/N collapsed onto the floor, hugging both knees as the color drained out of her face. There were so many inquiries spinning in circles around her head. What was happening? Was this reality? Was that an official break up? Had she lost Isaac forever? But most importantly, was everything he'd said correct?

In the pit of her despair, Y/N finally came to acceptance. The thing that scared her more than Isaac being right, was the fact that she would always love Harry most of all, even when she wasn't his one and only. And then came the biggest question for herself, what was she going to do about it?

Bitch. Slut. Whore. Cheater. Liar.

Nothing that Ruby hadn't seen.

She logged out of Instagram, secretly cursing herself for even checking the comment section. She had worked in this industry for too long to believe she would get used to the hate. Still, she was glad nobody was blaming Harry for what had happened. Everyone assumed he and her ex-fiancé James were both victims of her 'evil scheme'. They could believe whatever they wanted, she couldn't care less, as long as it didn't affect Harry's reputation.

"Ms. Ellis?"

The soft voice at Ruby's bedroom door caught her full attention. She rose from the bed and secured the strings of her pink silk robe before turning to her assistant. "So?" Her expression hardened fast. "What did they say, Liv?"

"Mr. Fischer was on the phone with him, and he refused to delete that tweet."

"He said so himself?"

"Yes, Mr. Fischer told me to tell you that—"

"Son of a bitch!" The actress cursed aloud as she quickly grabbed her phone to search for her ex's contact name. She held the device with one hand, shoving the other into her golden locks and asking her assistant to leave her alone.

"You shouldn't call him," Liv spoke, her voice trembled with concern. "Mr. Fischer said—"

"Mike is my manager, not my boss. I don't have to do everything he tells me to do," Ruby grumbled, her glare frightened the young girl, giving her no other choice but to hurry out of the room. Soon after the door had fallen shut, James picked up the phone. He barely finished half of the word "hello" when Ruby raised her voice with anger. "Delete that fucking tweet, asshole!"

"That's not the way you speak to your ex-fiancé, love." His scornful laugh drove her up the walls, but she let it go and head straight to the point.

"You can go on the Internet and say whatever you want about me, play your victim card, I don't fucking care. But leave Harry out of this."

"You worry about that kid or your new movie with him? But judging from how your so-called fans react to the cast announcement, I think the movie will flop anyway."

"He's more a man than you are. Because only a kid would go on social media to spread lies and beg for people's sympathy," she spoke through gritted teeth. "I told you the truth, and you asked me to marry you anyway. But now you're telling the world you didn't know about me and Harry, that he convinced me to break off our engagement? I knew you were an asshole, but this is just pathetic...Maybe leaving you was the right thing after all."

James seemed unbothered by everything she had said. If anything, he sounded amused. "Don't be so mean, sweetheart. Without me, you would still be a nameless waitress and have men grope you for some extra cash." He chuckled lowly. "I built you up and I can cast you down easily. You should be thankful I don't intend to ruin your life for good."

Ruby shook her head as she released a wry laugh. "You insecure asshole, you've always been intimidated by me. All you've ever done from the start was putting me down and making sure I wouldn't outshine you. I can't believe I used to love you."

"Neither can I." His answer froze her to the spot. "Because, darling, I never loved you."

She tried to hold it in as she exhaled, yet her lips trembled and her eyes teared up. She thought she might lose it any minute now. That wasn't enough for James though, the asshole made sure he wrecked her completely as he went on. "You're just another talentless dumb blonde. Why would I be intimidated by you? Without that pretty face, you are nothing. You can't even act, the only movie scenes that people will remember you from, are the ones of you spreading your legs."

"You fucking cunt..." Her voice was full of breath as her eyes squeezed shut. "If you think I'm afraid of you, you're fucking wrong."

"Because you're afraid of everything, is that right? I don't blame you, sweetheart. It's not your fault that no man takes you seriously. No one will love you for real, Ruby. Not even that boy."

When James hung up, Ruby stood in that same position like a statue. She tried to steady her breath until her assistant burst into the room and told her James had deleted his tweet.

"Ms. Ellis?" Asked Liv as she saw the vacant look on her boss' face. The actress laid down her phone without saying a word and put on a smile as if nothing was wrong.

"Told ya I could deal with that son of a bitch," she said, laughing slightly.

She knew James was wrong, at least about one thing, she might not be the best actress, but she knew she was a good one. Her fake beam had fooled Liv into believing her happiness was genuine. But as the girl left, so did the smile on Ruby's pretty face. Sometimes she forgot not everywhere she went was a movie set, and now it felt terrifying to even be true to herself.

Thinking for a moment, she took her phone and searched for 'Love' in her contact list. Harry had set that name for himself and she'd never changed it, even when they had ended a long time ago.

⌲ Have you gone on Twitter?

She waited patiently, and her heart sighed in relief when the reply came.

⌲ Love: No, why?

⌲ Nothing :)

⌲ Just wanna ask if you saw the article.

⌲ Love: The cast announcement right? They used a TERRIBLE photo of me.

⌲ Love: But yours looks great.

Ruby was beaming now. That sentence was enough to erase the previous phone call from her mind. Just as she thought she couldn't be any happier, his next message arrived.

⌲ Love: I'm right outside your door. Are you home?

⌲ Yes, give me a sec.

She tossed her phone aside, wasting no time to run downstairs and greeted Harry at the door with the tightest hug. Her happiness probably confused him, but she wouldn’t tell him anything, not James’ tweet, not even the horrible things the bastard had said to her. Now he was here, and she was no longer afraid.

Maybe her elation had prevented her from seeing his reluctance. She shut the door and grabbed his hand. “Sit, I’m gonna make you a cup of tea!”

“Actually, I’m only here to talk,” he mumbled as his fingers slipped right through hers, leaving her confused for a second. Laughing nervously, she said, “we can talk while having tea.”

“It’s gonna be quick.”

Ruby ignored that statement and turned to walk back inside. Something seemed wrong, but as usual, she hoped if she kept on pretending, everything would turn out fine. This, however, wasn’t the case.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Those five words stopped her dead in her tracks. Simple as they were, their weight could crush her numb body to dust in an instant. Her arms fell slack to her sides as she looked back, her deep-set eyes widened at him. “You can’t do what anymore?”

“Us...” He confessed, nodding slightly to confirm whatever she thought was right. “I’m so sorry, but...I can’t.”

She took a deep breath, hoping, with a crooked smile, she could cover up the fact that her heart was speed-racing. “Do I deserve to know the reason?” She wished he had hesitated but it seemed like he already had an answer.

“I’m in love with someone else,” he said without pause. Ruby’s golden brown eyes fell shut as she took a deep breath then let it all out. She was even surprised by how she remained this calm, or she was so hurt that her brain couldn’t function anymore.

“Y/N.” The name made Harry flinch as he met her eyes once again. “That’s the girl, right?”

He didn’t have to answer, she already knew it was a yes.

“You know,” she began again, glancing at the ceiling as she chuckled softly. “When she first said her name, I could‘ve sworn I’d heard it somewhere else. Then I got home and kept replaying it in my head. Y/N...Y/N...Y/N...” She paused, pressing her lips into a lopsided grin as her eyes fell back on him. “And then it hit me, I’d spoken to her on the phone before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it was two or three years ago I think,” she recalled, looking so indifferent to the way he furrowed his eyebrows. “It was when we called it quit the first time. We didn’t talk for a week and you went to Holmes Chapel for a funeral. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah.” His voice was barely audible.

She exhaled and continued. “The first night you were back in London, someone called you on the phone when you were in the shower. The girl said that her name was Y/N, and asked me to tell you to call her back. But you’d never mentioned a Y/N to me, so I assumed she was just a fan that somehow got your number, and I didn’t say a word to you about that. Never had I expected that...Y/N would be the one you chose over me today.”

She stopped to study his face, letting silence take over for a moment before she asked, “do you hate me for not telling you that she’d called?” Slowly, he shook his head. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Because she’s dating Isaac?” She emphasized the name as if to make a statement. With tears in her eyes and her jaw tightened, she knew he expected her to yell at him, but instead, her voice trembled. “She’s dating your best friend...Why are you still in love with her?”

His answer was nothing she could have foreseen. “You don’t have to be with someone to be in love with them.”

Ruby had prepared herself for the worst, but she hadn’t thought it would hurt this bad. Her mouth set in a hard line, she couldn’t even face him now that her eyes had flooded with tears. Her elbows pressed into her sides as she hugged herself, making her body look so small. Then she pointed her shaky finger to the door and told him, “please leave.”

Harry only nodded as she turned away so he wouldn’t see her cry. In that instant, she wished he had said he was wrong, and he never wanted to hurt her feelings. But all that she received was “see you at the table read.” And just like that, he walked out.

Alone, and again, afraid, Ruby dragged her heavy feet to the sofa and sat there with her face in her hands. Her eyes shut tight as she tried to drown out James’ voice. But it kept growing louder and echoing through her ears as if he was living inside her head.

“No one will love you for real, Ruby. Not even that boy.”

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aidanchaser · 4 years

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @somebodyswatson, and Aubs

Chapter Twelve Silver and Opals

As soon as the door to the cell closed behind her, Tonks slumped against the cold stone wall. She breathed out a silent prayer of gratitude that at least she did not have to deal with dementors on this trip to Azkaban. As horrifying as it was that the dementors had left and were loose around England, she was not sure she could have survived this visit otherwise.

“Alright?” Proudfoot asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tonks gave him a wan smile. “Alright. Except that the guy doesn’t know anything. Don’t know why Scrimgeour’s insisting we keep him.”

Tonks pushed herself off against the wall and followed Proudfoot down the stairs of Azkaban’s western tower. Her interrogation with Stan Shunpike had gone exactly as she’d expected. Stan had pleaded innocence, said he didn’t know anything, he’d been exaggerating, he’d been trying to impress people.

“I suppose even people who pretend to have associations with Death Eaters ought to be taken seriously. Prevents people from….” Proudfoot rubbed the side of his head and winced. Tonks didn’t think he noticed it anymore, but it had become a tick of his whenever he thought too hard about something, a remnant of his duel with Pyrites last spring. “Sorry. I guess I just mean we’ve got to take any threat seriously.”

“I don’t blame Scrimgeour and Robards for having him brought in,” Tonks said, and tightened the scarf around her neck as they reached the large doors leading out of Azkaban, “but I think he’s learned his lesson, don’t you? He’s not going to give us anything useful.”

The doors out of Azkaban stood nearly as tall as the castle wall itself. They were each a meter thick, crafted out of ironwood and reinforced with bands of steel that were then reinforced with enchantments that left the metal glowing an eerie silver. On either side of the doors were two security trolls who towered twelve-feet high, nearly as high as the door, and beneath them stood two burly wizards, arms folded over their chest. As Tonks and Proudfoot approached, one whipped out a Secrecy Sensor and the other a Probity Probe. Without further prompting, Tonks and Proudfoot raised their arms over their heads and waited until they were cleared. They’d done this a hundred times. It was standard practice before going into the office these days — so Tonks went in as little as possible.

When the guards seemed satisfied that Tonks and Proudfoot were exactly who they said they were, they ordered the trolls to open the doors.

Each troll grabbed the enormous handles attached to a wheel and chain and pulled. With a loud clanking and a low-pitched creaking, the doors to Azkaban opened, just enough for Tonks and Proudfoot to squeeze out, and then they slammed closed behind them.

The North Sea crashed around them, drenching Tonks’s hair and clothes. She pulled her cloak tighter and shivered, and reminded herself to be grateful that it was not her job to stand out here as a guard.

The two wizards who did have the unfortunate duty of protecting the gates outside of Azkaban handed them their wands, for no wands were allowed inside Azkaban. Finally, she and Proudfoot were able to Apparate back to the Ministry. It was not quiet, at least not as quiet as the late night hours usually were. A pair of witches waited at the golden gates for Security to let them in. Another wizard stood by someone in bright green healer’s robes, having a whispered discussion. Several Hit Wizards lined the Floo Network entrances, prepared to detain and interrogate anyone who appeared suspicious. They were not far from the new, gaping hole in the Atrium, while the Ministry figured out how they would replace the Fountain of Magical Brethren that had been destroyed in Voldemort and Dumbledore’s duel.

Exhaustion kept the two of them quiet as they headed through security and up to the Auror offices. Anne Scrimgeour was there, ready with their assignments for tomorrow. Just seeing the scroll in Anne’s hand made Tonks’ exhaustion level increase twofold. She hadn’t even finished her day, and already tomorrow’s task was looming in front of her.

She slumped into her chair and carefully flattened the scroll out over her desk. Part of her hoped it might be hunting down Fenrir Greyback, though she knew that Marcy had been put on that trail weeks ago. Instead, she discovered she was scheduled to be at Hogwarts for the weekend.

The Ministry had, of course, insisted on extra security for Hogwarts. They wanted round-the-clock Auror patrols of the corridors and grounds in addition to all the extra protections Dumbledore and the Ministry had already placed on the school. Dumbledore had, in turn, submitted a list of Aurors he deemed appropriate to patrol Hogwarts — meaning, Aurors who were also in the Order.

Shacklebolt was still working with the Muggle Prime Minister, and the Longbottoms were in charge of the recently added Dark Wizard Detection and Detainment Task Force, so it was mostly her, the Prewetts, and Moody. Moody was still technically retired, but he at least helped guard Hogwarts when he was needed. Tonks did not think there was any favour Dumbledore could ask of Moody that Moody would not give, and that was a hard level of respect to earn from Moody.

Padfoot leaned on her desk and craned his neck to get a look at her assignment. “Hogwarts? I got Knockturn Alley rounds this weekend with Savage. How did you even get on the Hogwarts list? You’re still the youngest of the Aurors — Diggory doesn’t count, and don’t tell me he does. He’s got three years of training to get through, just like we all did.”

Tonks tucked the new orders into her coat pocket. “You were still out for your injury when Dumbledore made his list. I’m sure that’s all it is. Did you write your report yet or are you just harassing me to procrastinate?”

When their reports were finally done, and they’d approved each other’s account of their interrogation of Stan Shunpike, they finally left the Ministry of Magic. Proudfoot, while not his usual cheery self, was his usual chatty self. He talked about his sister’s plans for a holiday in Florida in an effort to escape what was likely to be a harsh winter, the strange smell that had started to creep into his flat that he hadn’t had time to investigate fully, and a half-dozen other things on their wait in the lift and their walk out of the Ministry.

The night sky over London was dark, not a single star visible. Tonks was only able to find the moon, a vague, silvery light behind the cloud cover, because it was nearly full. Tomorrow night it would reach the peak of its cycle, and someone she loved very deeply would endure a lot of pain.

“I know a great twenty-four hour place,” Proudfoot said, pulling Tonks out of her staring contest with the hidden moon.

“What?”

“I thought you just said you were hungry.”

Perhaps she had murmured an agreement accidentally. And, as she thought about it, she actually was hungry.

Tonks checked her pocketwatch and groaned. “I can’t. I’ve got to be at Hogwarts first thing in the morning.”

“Hogwarts patrol is easy enough. Dumbledore’s got all the security in place, hasn’t he? You’ll wander around, get yourself an excellent meal, and be done with the day.”

Tonks did not think a Hogwarts patrol would be as simple as all that, but she agreed with him that it would be easier than today had been.

“Fine, but I need to let my mum know I’m alright. Hopefully she’ll believe me.” With a muttered incantation, Tonks summoned her Patronus and sent it off to deliver her hasty apology and promises she was alright.

It wasn’t until she saw Proudfoot staring at her, dumbfounded and scratching the side of his head, that she realized he was only familiar with her quick rabbit, not the lumbering silver wolf. An apology leapt to the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, unsure what she was to apologize for. Not telling him she’d fallen in love?

Proudfoot was the one to apologize. “Sorry. I thought — I dunno what I thought.” He continued running his hand through his thick brown curls and let out a long, slow breath. “A wolf, huh?” His patronus was a Kneazle, a far cry from the one she’d just revealed.

“Yeah — a wolf.”

“Used to be…?”

“A rabbit.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He frowned, eyes still on the space where her wolf had vanished. “It’s the old legend, isn’t it? Patronus changing to match someone you love?”

“I didn’t ask the wolf, but — well, I ‘spect so.”

“And I haven’t heard about them because…?”

“Because it’s complicated.”

“Well, my food offer still stands. Tell me all about him. Or her.”

Tonks, who knew how hard it could be to extend friendship to someone you wished would love you, appreciated his offer more than she could put into words.

Proudfoot led Tonks towards a caff around the bend of the Thames. It was a few miles to walk, but the cold, fresh air felt good after so many hours in Azkaban. It also made it easier to talk.

“Start with their name,” Proudfoot prodded.

Tonks thought that was the last place she wanted to start. It would be easier if Proudfoot didn’t know who she was talking about and didn’t make a number of assumptions based on Lupin’s previous run-ins with the Ministry.

“He’s a friend of my cousin. So I knew him growing up. Always thought he was sweet, y’know? And funny. I mean, I really looked up to my cousin — Mum always thought he was a bad influence, but you know my Mum.”

“In concept,” Proudfoot laughed. “Just promise me the cousin you’re talking about is Sirius Black and not Regulus Black? Or Draco Malfoy?”

Tonks had never been more grateful for Proudfoot’s sense of humor. It was why the two of them got on so well. “Of course I’m talking about Sirius.”

“And the friend isn’t James Potter, is it? Because I think I can point out some quick problems with that relationship.”

“I do not have a crush on James Potter! Stop — did you want to hear about him or not?”

“You didn’t give me his name, Tonks! I’m just making sure the reason you’re keeping him secret isn’t because he’s already married to a very powerful and terrifying witch who has it in for the Ministry.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. It was sudden, uncontrolled, and brief. She couldn’t remember if she’d laughed in the last month. She couldn’t remember if she’d laughed at all since Voldemort’s return was finally public. Since she’d had a real conversation with Remus. But it was funny to hear how the Ministry felt about Lily Potter.

“I’m not in love with Potter. Promise.”

“Alright, alright, carry on.”

Proudfoot led her through a garden along the bank of the Thames. On any other day, Tonks might have worried he was trying to make this walk romantic, but she found it so much easier to breathe, now that he knew she wasn’t interested in him. She wished she had tried to talk to him about it all sooner, but they’d danced around the line between friendly and flirty for so long, she hadn’t known how to bring it up. Perhaps an accidental discovery like this was the only way for them to move forward.

“So I always sort of liked him,” she said, “but it was just a silly crush, you know? I dated at school and everything, but, well, I dunno, after I finished at Hogwarts I saw him at a party and I just — it all hit me all over again. My heart got all jittery, and I didn’t want to leave, even when my mum and dad left. I just wanted to keep talking to him. But then there was Auror training, and I was so busy and exhausted all the time —”

“I remember Moody ran you hard.”

“Yes! It was miserable, but worth it… Anyway, this past year, we’ve spent a lot of time together and — I dunno, I thought he finally saw me as an adult, not as his friend’s kid cousin. I thought that maybe he liked me too.” Tonks felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she instead latched onto her anger at herself for being so upset. She shouldn’t be reacting this way. Unrequited love hurt, but it was nothing worth crying to a co-worker about.

“I’m sorry.” And Proudfoot sounded like he meant it. There was no relief in his voice that Tonks wasn’t actually taken. There was no hope that because her love was unrequited she might turn her feelings to him. He was just sympathetic.

“When I tried to talk to him about it, he said there was nothing to talk about. It hurt, but I knew I could be alright with it. Even if he did have feelings for me and just wanted to be stubborn and deny it, fine. If he wanted to date someone else, fine. If he was content with his own company, fine. I could make my peace with that. But he….” She sighed and ran a hand through her thin, mousy brown hair, wishing that she could turn it back to her favourite vibrant pink. “It’s just a lot more complicated.”

Proudfoot considered this. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, following the occasional Muggle automobile that passed them along the embankment. His hands were in his pockets, presumably one on his wand, and Tonks hastily shoved her wand hand into her pocket. She’d been using her hands to assist her talking, but she knew Moody would have criticized her for taking her hand off her wand for even a moment.

“What reasons has he given you for not wanting a relationship?” Proudfoot finally asked.

“He says I don’t deserve him because he’s old and… and sick. He thinks I ought to fall in love with some young attractive Auror instead of him — his words, not mine.”

Proudfoot’s face flushed and a grin spread across it. “So he knows me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. But yes, he’s seen you before. He knows we’ve worked together. And it just makes me angry that he thinks he can tell me who I should fall in love with!”

Proudfoot nodded. “Yeah, I see that. Has he admitted that he shares your feelings? It almost sounds like he’s making excuses to avoid hurting your feelings — and failing spectacularly, I might add.”

“I thought that for a bit, but then I talked it over with Sirius, who knows him best. Sirius said he does have feelings for me, that Sirius is sure of it. Sirius seems to think the problem is that Remus doesn’t want to deal with his own feelings and insecurities, so he’s running from them.”

“Oh. This is about Remus Lupin. I see.”

The tone of Proudfoot’s voice turned from as comforting as her mother’s homegrown herbal teas to as cold and icy as a dementor’s chill. Tonks felt her hurt and anger stunned into temporary submission as her brain tried to work out which part of Remus Lupin it was that made Proudfoot so angry. Was it that he finally had a name and a face for Tonks’ love? Was it the werewolf thing?

Tonks did as she did best: tried to brush it off with a joke. “What? Would you be less upset if I’d said it was Emmeline Vance?”

Proudfoot did not see the humor. “I just think what he is matters. You can’t have a serious relationship with someone like that.”

So it was the werewolf. “Glad to have your opinion on it,” she said coolly.

“I just mean that you ought to think about it practically. He certainly is. You can’t live with someone with that kind of condition — it’s dangerous! You know he never registered himself? And imagine what might happen to your children —”

“Merlin’s merchant, Proudfoot, where do you get off talking about me having kids?”

“I’m just looking at it in the long-term. That’s all.”

“And I was so glad to have a friend to talk to about it.” Tonks rolled her eyes, embarrassed by the gratitude she’d felt just moments ago. “You’re unbelievable. Sirius is in love with the man and he’s a better comfort about all of this than you are.”

Without checking for Muggles and without waiting for another poor, insensitive explanation from Proudfoot, Tonks Disapparated, leaving the man she had — until just a moment ago — considered her best friend standing alone on the roadside in London. She Apparated into her mother’s garden, with no care for the mint plant she trod over, and stomped into the house.

Despite the late hour, Andromeda Tonks was still up with a book in her lap, and looked relieved to see Tonks. Her relief turned into concern when she actually took in Tonks’ expression.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing. It’s fine, Mum,” she grunted, and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door closed.

“Nymphadora!” her mother shrieked, with the same strength and indignation she’d used throughout Tonks’ teenage years.

As another set of footsteps stomped up the stairs behind Tonks, the house seemed to groan with weariness. It had endured hundreds of similar arguments as Tonks had passed through puberty and into adulthood; it was likely to endure a hundred more.

Tonks was barely out of her coat when her mother threw the door open.

“Nymphadora!”

“What, Mum?” She was so tired of every adult treating her like a child, and she wished she knew how to stop herself from responding as if she still were a child.

“You know better than to come barging into this house at ungodly hours making that kind of noise —”

“Because you haven’t just woken half of the neighborhood yourself —”

“Don’t interrupt me! I’ve been up half the night, worried sick about you, and you brush me off like I’m little more than a house-elf —”

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’m tired. It was a long day.” Tonks hung her coat in her wardrobe, simply because her mother was still standing in her doorway and she knew she’d get another scolding if she left it on the floor.

There was a heavier set of footsteps in the hallway, joined by a loud yawn, and her father came stumbling down the hall, dressed in his nightclothes. He joined her mother in the doorway. “Dromeda, Dora, must we do this now?”

“She’s the unreasonable one!” Tonks said, raising her voice more than she meant to, an old habit of an oft-repeated phrase growing up. “Shouting like it’s the end of the world at Merlin knows what hour of the night!”

“I’m the unreasonable one? I’m just asking for the bare minimum — the absolute least you can do is say hello when you come home. Some basic decency is all I ask for in this house.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, Mum. What else do you want? I’ll remember to send my Patronus earlier next time.”

“You have no idea what it’s like, waiting up with worry while you’re only child is off fighting who-knows-what and who-knows-who and —”

“Yeah, and I ‘spect I never will. I was at Azkaban half the day, and I’ve got to be at Hogwarts in the morning, and I’d like to get just an hour of good sleep in, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Ah,” Ted Tonks said, and stifled another yawn. “There it is. Did you have another run-in with Lupin?”

“No! Dad — just go back to bed.” Her cheeks flushed, and had she been thirteen instead of twenty three, her hair would have burned bright red with embarrassment.

“Are you really still interested in him, Nymphadora?” asked Andromeda. “It’s been nearly six months since you’ve even spoken to him.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum, I’m aware. You say it like I can help it.”

“Oh, please. You are not the protagonist of some Russian novel who can stand around waiting for him to reform bad habits and realize he’s been in love with you all this time. You cannot mope about —”

“I’m not moping!”

“Then change your hair. Fix your nose. As much as I love seeing my face on my daughter for once, I miss seeing your father’s. You’ve let this man take a wonderful gift from you, and it’s growing ridiculous.”

“Dromeda,” Ted said, and put his arm around his wife, “don’t pretend you were any less romantic about love when you were her age. I recall several impassioned speeches about what you thought of your family’s philosophy, and how you didn’t care what it cost you, you would have me no matter what.”

Andromeda’s face grew red. “That was different! We had each other — and we had a plan —”

“It’s not the same, but it’s not that different,” Ted said. “Come on, let’s get to bed before any of us say something we’ll regret in the morning. Will you be home tomorrow night, Dora?”

Tonks, still furious with her mother shook her head. “No. I’m at Hogwarts this weekend. I expect I’ll be home on Monday.”

Andromeda’s face was shrewd. “Why not come home tomorrow night? London’s no closer to Hogwarts than we are.”

“Let it go, Dromeda,” Ted said. “She’s an adult, and if she wants to keep throwing herself at this, that’s her choice.”

Andromeda did not look like she was going to let it go. “This conversation isn’t over, Nymphadora.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Brilliant. Can’t wait until we pick it up again.” She considered never coming home again, but the last thing she needed was her mother pounding on the Potters’ or Weasleys’ doors, demanding to know where she was and how to get to the Order’s headquarters in London. As her bedroom door closed, and she was finally alone, she reminded herself that her parents were simply looking out for her. Her mother cared, as difficult as that could be to see. Tonks tried, as she tried every night in the middle of this war, to count the things she was grateful for, and having two living parents who loved her was at the top of the list.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

At the bottom of Tonks’ list of things to be grateful for was the weather. Though she’d been glad to have the dementors out of Azkaban just yesterday, she was already wishing them back. Hogwarts was bitterly cold, and it wasn’t even November.

Tonks doubled her scarf around her face to shield herself from the biting cold atop the Astronomy Tower. She leaned over the edge of the parapets and watched the students file out, all successfully passing Filch’s Secrecy Sensor. She thought about how many times she’d tricked Filch during her time as a student, and wondered if his Secrecy Sensor was as reliable as he’d insisted.

Tonks watched until she saw a group of four wrapped in Gryffindor scarves — one with short, messy dark hair, another with long untidy red hair, someone with dusty blonde hair, and someone with long, thick, curly hair — set out from the castle to brave the icy cold wind that blew down the path to Hogsmeade. Tonks was, as her Auror assignment said, guarding Hogwarts in Dumbledore’s absence. But more than that, she was guarding Harry.

And she’d expected him to head out into Hogsmeade, which is why she was up here on the Astronomy Tower, watching to make sure he’d gone, though she’d been hoping he wouldn’t bother to brave the weather. With a disappointed sigh and a curse on courageous Gryffindors, Tonks cast a simple Disillusionment Charm on herself and mounted her Comet Two Sixty. She wasn’t used to having to resort to spells for Disguise, but she’d gained a lot of practice these last few months.

Her gift hadn’t vanished right away. It had been slow, like exhaustion creeping in as the day grew longer. At first, she’d thought it simply was exhaustion. Changing her appearance became like stretching an over-extended muscle. It hurt, and she could do it, but not for long. Then the things she did without a second thought seemed to take all of her concentration. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her jaw — the things about her that mirrored her mother that she had spent her whole life disguising, first out of spite and then out of habit — all relaxed into their natural shape. Until one morning, she found she was unable to shrink her nose or soften her cheekbones. She could not grow her nails into claws or turn her hair from brown to pink.

She’d thought it was the war that had worn her out, but when she had seen Remus after his transformation last July, she had known exactly why she was so tired, so exhausted. The war was something she had trained for, and she’d been trained well for it by Mad-Eye Moody. Falling in love with someone who repeatedly tormented himself — not just on the full moon but on each night of his life — had never been something she’d prepared for.

Tonks landed her broom just outside the Three Broomsticks and tucked it away in a shed behind Rosmerta’s pub. She’d retrieve it later.

For now, Tonks walked the streets of Hogsmeade. She was familiar with its layout, having visited enough times as a student. It wasn’t particularly crowded, with how terrible the weather was. Still, she found it strange to watch the clusters of students hurry from shop to shop. It wasn’t too long ago that she had been one of them, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. The only students she could possibly know were the seventh years, who had only been bitty firsties when she’d been in her final year. She didn’t think she’d recognize any names.

The students she did know — Harry, Hermione, Neville, and the Weasleys — were nowhere to be seen. Tonks tried to think of where Harry might go. She knew he’d been to the Hog’s Head before, but from what she understood it had been a special occasion. She wondered if he was continuing Dumbledore’s Army now that Umbridge had been deposed, if he’d decided it was still necessary with Snape in charge of Defense.

Tonks wandered the path down to the Hog’s Head, but it didn’t seem like any students were particularly interested in braving the long walk to the edge of town, away from the warm, inviting shops. When Tonks did open the door to the Hog’s Head, she was greeted by the smell of animal dung and an unwelcoming grunt from the barkeep. The place itself was empty.

“Wotcher, Aberforth,” she said as she approached the counter.

Aberforth half-growled. “Don’t have time for your funny business, Nymphadora.”

Tonks wished she felt anything like funny business. With the loss of Proudfoot, Aberforth was the last person left in her life she could joke around with. “I’ve outgrown all that,” she said with a shrug. “Just checkin’ to make sure you aren’t serving Firewhiskey to firsties.”

“Not unless they’re as wrinkled as shrivelfigs. Or if you’ve got another student that can make their face look as weathered as mine.”

“Just me, far’s I know. Any interesting shrivelfigs come through?”

“In this weather?” Aberforth stroked his beard. “‘Dung came in here, tried to sell me something. I gave him a firm reminder he was banned. Are you going to buy something or did you just come to annoy me?”

A drink sounded tempting. “Sorry, but I’m working. Maybe tonight.”

“Butterbeer for the road, then?”

Tonks could not resist something warm in this terrible weather. As grumpy as he was, Aberforth was an excellent salesman. Or maybe he was just trying to unload his dusty collection of butterbeers on unsuspecting Aurors. Tonks’ lips curled back in disgust as he handed her the glass bottle coated in a quarter inch of muck, as if he’d unearthed it from the floor.

“Cheers,” she said, and tucked the glass bottle into her coat. At least it was warm.

She left Aberforth, cheered by the interaction. She’d once made the mistake of impersonating Dumbledore in her third year in order to get herself a drink at the Hog’s Head. It had gone terribly, but how was she to know that the barkeep was the Headmaster’s estranged brother? Aberforth had promised not to tell the school what she’d done as long as she promised not to let everyone know who he was. It had been a fine arrangement, one Tonks had leaned on and abused to get the occasional free drink in her later years.

As Tonks headed back to the shops in the center of Hogsmeade, she wished she’d spent time practicing warming charms instead of Disillusionment Charms. The wind was picking up, and she was pretty sure there was a storm coming.

She caught sight of Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione exiting Zonko’s and hurrying across the street towards the Three Broomsticks. They didn’t seem to notice her, which she was grateful for, though disappointed they’d chosen the Three Broomsticks. She couldn’t very well go in and have Harry recognize her, but she did very much want to get warm.

She ducked into Gladrags. Though most of the window was plastered with Death Eater wanted posters, there was a space in the corner where she had a good view of the Three Broomsticks. Tonks settled into the corner and when the shop owner asked her to buy something or leave, she simply flashed her Auror badge. He ignored her after that.

Harry and his friends stayed in the Three Broomsticks just long enough to enjoy a nice, warm butterbeer before heading back into the cold. She waited until they’d passed by Gladrags before heading out into the cold herself. The butterbeer in her pocket wasn’t especially warm anymore, and she pulled her coat closer to stave off the bite of the windchill.

She squinted up at the castle, and wondered if she ought to take her broom back. The wind was picking up, and she didn’t have any desire for her Comet to get caught in a gale and have the both of them into the Whomping Willow. She also had no desire to walk into the wind. In the end, Tonks chose the lesser of two evils. She pulled her collar tight and trudged up the path towards the castle. She had barely crested the first hill and taken in the vision of the Black Lake, with white caps on its traditionally mirror-smooth waters, when a blood-curdling scream cut through the air.

Tonks bolted into a run. The glass bottle in her coat pocket swung like a pendulum as she hurried towards the sound, wand out, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of distress. The scream continued, even as she ran, and as she mounted the ridge where she had last seen Harry, she saw a young girl, hovering six feet in the air just at the end of the bridge that crossed the Black Lake, screaming with all her might as the wind whipped around her. Tonks had barely taken two more steps when the girl collapsed to the ground in a heap. Five students clustered around her. Tonks saw the one she thought was Harry run towards Hagrid’s hut. That was good; Tonks was still far enough away that Harry might reach Hagrid first.

Tonks searched for more strength to put into her sprint, but it felt like no matter how hard she tried, she could not run fast enough. Then, as her feet left the well-worn path and hit the hard, stone bridge, she tripped and sprawled onto the ground. She heard the glass in her coat pocket shatter, and the left side of her chest grew wet and warm. She did not even stop to consider the sensation; she only cursed her clumsiness and picked herself back up.

When she finally reached the end of the bridge, she skidded to the young girl’s side, this time intentionally slamming her knees into the bridge. Hagrid and Harry were just steps away.

“Get back,” Hagrid shouted at the students as Tonks ran her wand over the girl on the ground.

The girl was still screaming and writhing in pain. Tonks hated these kinds of curses, the ones you could neither see nor defend yourself against. She was not very good at treating them, either. Snape was better. And Hagrid was faster.

“Get her to Madam Pomfrey,” she said, though Hagrid had knelt down to scoop her up as soon as Tonks pulled her wand away. “And get Snape!” she added as he ran off with the still-screaming girl in his arms.

“Is anyone else hurt?” Tonks looked at the five students — Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and a girl she’d never met.

They all shook their heads.

“Did someone attack her? What happened?”

The girl Tonks did not know pointed at some brown wrappings on the ground. “It — it was when that package tore,” she sobbed.

The wrappings were nearly soaked through, and as the wind whipped the loose edges around, Tonks saw something glittering underneath.

Ron knelt down and reached for the package.

“Don’t —” A jinx shot from the end of Tonks’ wand and knocked Ron backwards. She hadn’t meant to use the Knockback Jinx, but she’d been so determined to keep Ron away from whatever was in that package, she’d reacted without thinking.

Harry knelt next and, before she could even open her mouth, said, “I’m not going to touch it!” Instead he reached for the wrapping, and pulled it back to reveal a stunning opal necklace, glittering with iridescent greens and blues and whites.

“I’ve seen that before,” Hermione gasped. “Or one just like it. It was on display in Borgin and Burkes this summer. The label said it was cursed. Katie must’ve touched it.”

“Where’d your friend get this necklace?” Tonks looked at the group of students. They all looked at the girl.

“That’s why we were arguing.” The girl started to shake, and Hermione put an arm around her. “She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for someone at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it…. Oh! Oh no — she must have been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!”

“She didn’t say who’d given it to her, Leanne?” Hermione asked.

“No —” Leanne hiccuped on another sob. “She wouldn’t tell me. I said she — I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to the school, but she wouldn’t listen, and then I tried to grab it from her and —” Leanne let out another heaving sob and buried her face into her hands.

Tonks appreciated how calm Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry were as Hermione patted Leanne’s shoulder, and how carefully Harry and Neville examined the necklace. They had what it took to be Aurors, or maybe they’d just been through enough to make them that way.

Tonks took off her wet cloak and tossed it to Ron. The warm butterbeer had quickly grown cold, and Tonks thought she’d be better off with no cloak than a cold one. “Wrap it in this. Do not touch it — do you understand?”

Ron nodded solemnly and used her cloak to scoop up the necklace. “Why is it sticky?”

“Hippogriff piss,” Tonks said, and didn’t feel any urge to even smile at her own humor. “I need you to run on ahead and get that to Snape. It’ll help him treat Katie.”

Ron, though he looked pale, did not ask questions. He did as Tonks said and hurried on ahead.

“Come on,” Tonks said to the rest of them. “Let’s get out of this wind and get somewhere warm.”

Hermione kept her arm around Leanne’s shoulder as they walked up to the castle. Harry fell into step beside Tonks.

“Do you think Katie will be alright?” Harry asked as they trudged into the wind.

“I don’t know,” Tonks answered honestly. “You lot were in the Three Broomsticks just now, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me everyone who was in the Three Broomsticks.”

Harry frowned. “I dunno — Ron, Neville, Hermione, and me. A Slytherin from our class. A couple of warlocks… Katie and Leanne…. I dunno who else. It was kind of full with the weather so bad.”

“I thought Mad-Eye would’ve taught you better.”

“What do you mean?”

Had Tonks been her usual self, she would have scrunched up her face into her wizened mentor’s shape. As it was, she simply mimicked his voice. “Constant vigilance!”

Harry looked appropriately reprimanded. “I didn’t think about it in Hogsmeade. It’s so close to Hogwarts, I thought it was — I don’t know, safe?”

“Doesn’t matter where you are. How many times have you been attacked in places you’ve felt safe?”

Harry didn’t answer, and Tonks didn’t need him to. She could tell from his face it was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

“I think it was Draco Malfoy,” he said suddenly.

Tonks raised an eyebrow at him. “You sound certain.”

“He saw the necklace in Borgin and Burkes this summer,” Harry said. “Remember I told you we tailed him?”

“You didn’t tell me he purchased something. You told me he bullied Borgin into repairing something for him.”

“Right but — he could’ve purchased it. Or he could’ve gone back and purchased it.”

“Did you see Malfoy in the Three Broomsticks?”

“No, but there were a lot of people there.”

“And you think a lot of people would not have noticed a young man in a Hogwarts uniform slip into the girls’ bathroom?”

Harry considered this. “Leanne didn’t say Katie got it in the bathroom, just on her way back from the bathroom.”

“Alright, that’s a fair point, but I’ve got one more question.”

“Okay.”

“Katie — she looked like she’s a sixth or seventh year?”

“Seventh.”

“She a good duelist?”

“Yeah. She was in the D.A. She’s on the Quidditch team, too, ever since she was in second year. Good reflexes.”

“You think if Malfoy so much as approached her in the girls’ bathroom or anywhere in the Three Broomsticks with his wand out she wouldn’t Stun him or even shout?”

Harry didn’t answer, as they climbed the steps into Hogwarts. Filch growled at them and waved his Secrecy Sensor, but McGonagall came running down the stairs and waved him away.

“Let them in, Filch,” she said. “My office, all of you.”

Tonks could not help but feel like a student again as she trooped into McGonagall’s office. Ron was already there, with Tonks’ wet and sticky coat draped over the back of a chair. The necklace was nowhere to be seen.

“Well!” McGonagall said, and shut her office door firmly behind her. “Hagrid says you are the ones who saw what happened. Mr Weasley, I hope you’ve caught your breath enough to tell us what’s happened.”

“Leanne’s the one who saw it all,” Ron said. He still sounded short of breath, and Tonks was proud of him for putting in so much effort.

Leanne, between sobs and hiccups, was able to tell McGonagall what she had told Tonks: Katie had entered the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks and come out with a strange parcel and acting very odd, and they’d argue over delivering the strange package, until they’d torn the package in their argument. At this point, Leanne became inconsolable, and neither McGonagall’s stern demands nor Hermione’s gentle coaxing could convince her to finish her story.

“Go up to the hospital wing, then, Leanne,” said McGonagall in a kinder voice than Tonks had ever heard from her, “and have Madam Pomfrey give you something for shock.”

Leanne rubbed her eyes and obediently left the office.

“What happened when Katie touched the necklace?” McGonagall asked. She was looking to Tonks for answers, but Tonks did not have any. She looked at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville.

It was Harry who hurried to answer. “She rose up in the air,” he said, “and then began to scream, and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore please?”

McGonagall frowned, clearly uninterested in this change in topic. “The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter.”

“Away?”

“Yes, Potter, away. But I assure you, we are in quite capable hands regardless. Now, is there anything else you have to say about today’s incident? I believe I am most needed in the hospital wing.”

“That’s about it, Professor,” said Tonks. “I’ll see these four back to their common room.”

“Thank you,” McGonagall hurried out of the office without another word. Tonks could see Harry burning with frustration, but she ignored it, instead looking at the Quidditch Cup sitting on a shelf in McGonagall’s office. She felt bitter at seeing it here, especially after so many years of Charlie Weasley crushing her team in Quidditch.

“Who do you reckon Katie was supposed to give the necklace to?” Ron asked as he handed Tonks her cloak.

Tonks shook her head. “I doubt we’ll know unless Katie can tell us.”

“Whoever it was has had a narrow escape,” said Hermione. “No one could have opened that package without touching the necklace.”

Tonks led the four Gryffindors out of McGonagall’s office and towards the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

“It could’ve been meant for loads of people,” said Harry. “Dumbledore — the Death Eaters would love to get rid of him. Or Slughorn — Dumbledore reckons Voldemort really wanted him and they can’t be pleased that he’s sided with Dumbledore. Or —”

“Or you,” Neville whispered.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, prepared to comfort Harry, but Harry only shrugged.

“Couldn’t have been, or Katie would’ve just turned around in the lane and given it to me, wouldn’t she? I was behind her all the way out of the Three Broomsticks. It would have made much more sense to deliver the parcel outside Hogwarts, what with Filch searching everyone who goes in and out. I wonder why Malfoy told her to take it into the castle?”

Tonks sighed. “Harry, the Malfoys have been searched as thoroughly as anyone has ever been searched. And I find it far more likely that a woman cursed Katie with the Imperius Curse and had her deliver the parcel.”

“He could’ve asked Pansy Parkinson,” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Pansy couldn’t curse a toad to sing.”

“Whoever it was,” Ron said as they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, “wasn’t very slick, were they? The necklace didn’t even make it into the castle. Not what you’d call foolproof.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed. “It wasn’t very well thought out at all.”

Tonks examined each of the brave Gryffindors and considered her own Auror training. They all had the temperament for it, if nothing else. And they were asking all the right questions, the ones she’d been asking herself since she’d seen what had happened.

“What was it about the plan that went so wrong?” she asked them, curious to hear what they’d noticed.

“Even if Leanne hadn’t thought it strange, Filch would’ve caught the necklace with his Secrecy Sensor when they walked in,” said Neville.

“And no one’s really traveling alone these days,” said Hermione. “Someone like Leanne being suspicious was practically guaranteed.”

“Anyone could have opened the package,” said Ron. “Or like what happened — it opened accidentally and Katie got cursed.”

“The possibility for collateral damage was high, and the chance of success slim,” Tonks agreed. “So what does that tell us about the culprit?”

“Someone not very bright,” said Harry, “like Malfoy.”

Three pairs of eyes rolled in unison. Tonks sighed and shook her head.

“Not necessarily. What happened to Katie requires a certain level of skill. And brilliant people can make foolish mistakes. But it does tell us she’s definitely inexperienced. You four thought quickly today and reacted coolly in a stressful situation. That’s something to be proud of. Stay vigilant, alright?”

They each nodded and Hermione said, “Dilligrout.” The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open. Ron helped Hermione inside, then followed. Neville scrambled over the large step into the common room. Harry, though, hesitated.

Tonks thought he was going to give another argument for why Draco Malfoy had been the one to curse Katie, but instead he said, “How long are you staying at Hogwarts for?”

“As long as I can be useful. Mad-Eye should be here ‘round supper time. He might be a better help for Katie, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Are you… Are you going to see my parents at all tomorrow?”

Tonks wished she had control over her Metamorphmagus ability if only so she could hide the blush creeping up her neck. “I’m supposed to spend the night with your mother, actually. I hope she won’t worry too much if I’m late.”

“Oh — does that mean… does that mean he’s coming home tonight?”

“As far as I know, he’s planning to, yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“I’m glad someone can keep Mum company, too.”

“I’m happy to do it. Your Mum’s cool. You’re lucky, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Go on, before your friends worry that you’re having a tryst with a mature, older woman.”

Harry pantomimed searching high and low, and even peered around the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Huh. I don’t see one around.”

Tonks stuck her tongue out at him and playfully shoved him into the short tunnel into the Gryffindor common room.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

That night, when Mad-Eye relieved Tonks of her duty, she trudged back down the path to Hogsmeade. The wind had died down, but it was still bitterly cold, and she didn’t have a cloak. She had her butterbeer soaked cloak draped over one arm, and the only thing really protecting her from the cold was the knit scarf around her neck.

Though Tonks would have loved to stop in the Three Broomsticks for a proper warm butterbeer, to make up for the broken, dirty one, but she was expected at the Potters’ Hogsmeade cottage, and she didn’t dare delay any more than she already had filling Moody in on the events at Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin had not come home for the full moon at the end of August, but he had returned for September, of his own accord. Lily had said he was reluctant and sullen about it, but regardless, he’d finally come home.

Unfortunately, all of that bitterness and irritation that Remus brought home with him carried over into the full moon. It wasn’t just that he’d surprised Lily by showing up on their fireplace hearth an hour before sunset, asking if it was alright to stay the night. It wasn’t just that Lily had needed to put together a half-dozen potions on little notice. Whatever it was that Remus carried with him into the full moon had nearly ripped both him and James to shreds, and Lily, with the help of the Potters’ house-elves, had barely managed to keep the two of them alive.

So this month, she’d asked Tonks to help.

When Tonks reached the cottage, she knocked, and was surprised when one of the Potter house-elves answered. Tonks hadn’t really been properly introduced to them, but she thought this one was called Picksie.

“Miss Tonks!” the house-elf squeaked. “A moment —” The small elf squeezed her large, purple eyes closed and snapped her fingers. There was a blue spark, and Tonks felt a shock run from her head to her toes. She jumped back, startled, and fumbled for her wand.

The elf, however, opened her eyes and smiled. “It is you! Come in, come in.” She stepped aside and motioned for Tonks to enter. “Picksie has been practicing, detecting Polyjuices and hidden curses! But you is you, so come in, come in!”

Tonks could not help but smile as she walked in. Picksie’s pride in her success was contagious. “Impressive. House-elves might make better guards than trolls if they practice as hard as you.”

Tonks was not certain whether house-elves could blush — the only one she’d had any real interaction with had been Kreacher — but she thought that Picksie was glowing with pride.

“Thank you, Miss Tonks! You is very kind. Mistress Potter is in the kitchen, finishing a potion.”

Tonks let Picksie show her the way. She’d never actually been to the Potters’ cottage. She knew James had purchased it to be closer to Lily during her brief stint as a Hogwarts professor, but she wasn’t sure why they’d held onto it all these years. It certainly came in handy on a night like tonight, when their house was occupied by a bloodthirsty werewolf, and the Order’s headquarters were little more than a way-station for overworked Aurors these days. The life that had returned to Grimmauld Place when the Order had needed a London base had all but vanished after the Ministry was no longer the primary battle ground. Even Regulus wasn’t around as much. Tonks had heard he was on a special mission for Dumbledore, separate from the Order’s task, but she couldn’t recall who had said it to her.

Tonks didn’t find this cottage much more homely than Grimmauld Place as she looked around. The fireplace was empty, and the furniture was covered. It was clear that the Potters didn’t spend much time here.

The kitchen Picksie led her to was smaller than Styncon Garden’s, which said a lot, considering that their kitchen there was not especially large, not compared with homes like Grimmauld Place or the Burrow. There was enough room for a woodstove and a hand-pump sink. It seemed that James hadn’t been looking for grandeur or comfort when he’d bought the house. He’d only been looking for somewhere close to Lily.

Lily stood over the wood fire, waving her wand over a cauldron. Picksie waited in the doorway until Lily had finished her spell and used her wand to siphon the potion into a bottle before announcing Tonks.

“Mistress Potter — Miss Tonks is arrived. Picksie is doing the checking of her myself. Miss Tonks is who Miss Tonks says.”

Lily smiled. “Thank you, Picksie. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. Tonks can help me with the last of the Blood-Replenishing Potions. Why don’t you check on Mellie and get some rest?”

Picksie bowed and disappeared with a pop.

“Is Mellie alright?” Tonks asked.

“She’s old, and more and more tired these days…. But we all are, so maybe it’s nothing.” Lily corked the bottle of thick red liquid and set it into a box. “One more should do the trick. I wish I could brew these in advance, but they only last about forty-two hours, and I never know how much I’ll need.”

“Depends on his mood, doesn’t it? How was he tonight?”

“Better with Sirius gone, I think.” Lily rubbed her eyes and leaned against the sink. “You haven’t heard from Sirius or Emmeline, have you?”

“I read his report about two weeks ago. It seemed like they had a lead.”

“I’m just worried that she threw herself back into the field too soon after her recovery… and for Sirius to take a mission that would take him so far from us for so long….”

Tonks worried, too. But she had a feeling Sirius had run to give Remus less excuses. The last thing he’d said to her in July had been, “Whatever I’ve been doing to help him hasn’t worked in all the years I’ve known him. Maybe I’ve mucked up too many times to make it right. I don’t know….”

Lily stared at the fire as it slowly burned itself out. The dim, flickering light danced in her green eyes, and it made it hard for Tonks to tell if she was near tears or not. “If Sirius isn’t back next month, he’ll miss Harry’s Quidditch game.”

“No one ever said any of this would be easy,” said Tonks.

“No, but I don’t understand why Remus has to make it harder on everyone.” Lily shook her head. “Sorry — I know that isn’t fair to say. I just….”

Tonks knew what she meant, though. They couldn’t blame Remus for going through something difficult, any more than Tonks could blame herself for not being able to use her Metamorphmagus ability. They each had their own boggarts to confront, and all of it happening in the middle of a war only made things more difficult on everyone.

So Tonks didn’t press Lily to explain. She simply began to help clean up the cauldron Lily had abandoned on the fire. She wasn’t the best at cleaning, and she fumbled each time Lily handed her a glass vial, but Tonks did her best to help Lily prepare another bottle of Blood-Replenishing Potion. Lily didn’t seem interested in talking while they worked, and that was okay. Tonks focused herself on the task at hand, making sure not to break anything or accidentally drop anything into the potion. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d passed Potions at N.E.W.T. level with her consistent clumsiness, other than through sheer determination to become an Auror.

When the potion was safely sealed and labeled, Tonks put it in the box with the others. There was one potion glowing light blue — a fresh batch of Burning Bitterroot Balm, she guessed — and the rest were red potions with dates and times scrawled on them, going back to noon yesterday.

Lily made them a quick cup of tea, using her wand to heat the water instantly. Tonks took a moment to be in awe of Lily, who seemed a master of the house-keeping charms that had eluded Tonks, Potions, which had always been a challenge, and dueling, which was the only thing Tonks had ever shown a talent for. Tonks had spent her life mastering one thing and working hard to be passable at others; Lily seemed to have it all under control. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Harry his mum was cool.

“Thanks again for helping me.” Lily led Tonks back into the sitting room and pulled a cover off of the sofa so that they could sit. “It’s nice not to sit up alone, praying everyone’s alright.”

Tonks carried the warm mugs, and was careful not to spill as she handed one to Lily. “I think you’re doing me a favour just as much. It’s nice to know that I can do a little something for him, even if it isn’t a lot, even if he won’t talk to me.”

Lily used her wand to light the fireplace, then curled herself up into the corner of the sofa, hands wrapped tightly around her mug. “I can’t understand it, really. But I’ve never been good at understanding Remus.”

“I thought you two were close.”

“Close, yes — we tell each other almost everything. We spent a lot of time together as prefects. I almost made him my chief bridesmaid,” she laughed, “but I don’t understand him. I was rather harsh with him last July.” Lily blew on her tea and took a sip. Her gaze was not on Tonks as she spoke; she seemed to be staring at something much farther away.

“I didn’t know about his condition until our seventh year. I’d always assumed he understood what I was going through because he had a Muggle mother. I’d never dreamed it was because he knew better than I did what it was to be persecuted by wizards. But I always fought to prove myself. I was loud, angry, and maybe not willing to hex someone who mocked me, but I’d certainly outshine them in class. Remus was always quiet, secretive, and avoided people as much as he could. If he hadn’t been roommates with Sirius and James, or at least with people like them, I don’t know that he would’ve ever made friends.”

“It’s a bit different, though, isn’t it?” said Tonks. She flinched as she took a sip of tea and found it still too hot. “I just mean — being Muggle-born. You had ten years at least of a normal life.”

“I suppose. Though I always knew I was a witch. I had… a friend who was a wizard, who knew all about Hogwarts. But he never — well, while we were children — he never did treat me differently because I was Muggle-born. I suppose Remus never knew anything like that, not until he met James and Sirius. But we’ve all been friends for twenty-five years now. And I know what he goes through isn’t easy, but I’m so tired of him tearing himself up over it. I don’t know how to make him understand that we love him, not despite what he is but including what he is.” Lily closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

Tonks ran her thumb along the edge of her mug. She took a moment to let the steam warm her face before blowing on her tea and taking a sip. It didn’t hurt so badly as her first sip, but maybe she’d just burned the feeling out of her tongue. “Sirius says he’s just using the werewolf bit as an excuse so he doesn’t have to deal with his feelings.”

Lily hummed in agreement. “I’m sure that’s part of it. James described you as a catalyst, and I think that’s the best way to put it.”

“I don’t want to be anything — I just want to be me. And part of being me is loving him. But that part of me is making it harder to be myself, to be the person I know that I am.” Tonks bit down on her lip, realizing her words were heading dangerously close to thoughts she had been trying so desperately to avoid.

“Love changes us.” Lily’s smile was fond and distant. “You should’ve seen the way it changed James. I changed, too. James made me learn patience and humility, two things I’d never bothered with before. The love that makes you better is the one you want to keep around.”

Tonks was not sure she had changed for the better, at least not in these last six months. She liked spending time with Remus. She thought he made her more empathetic, more considerate, and more careful. Lately, though, she wasn’t happy with the ways she’d changed. She didn’t joke the way she used to, and she knew the loss of her Metamorphmagus abilities was an unfortunate effect. She supposed those losses weren’t because of her relationship with Remus, but because of how he had shut her out.

“What do you do when parts of him are good for you and other parts aren’t?”

Lily was quiet. Tonks wondered if she’d fallen asleep, and her question had gone unheard. She thought if she closed her eyes for even a moment, she might slip away too.

But then Lily said, “I think that’s why relationships are hard work.”

Tonks added emotional wisdom to the list of things Lily excelled at.

Tonks watched the fire as it slowly burnt out, intent on keeping a vigil all night, but at some point, Lily was shaking her shoulder gently. Tonks looked out of the window to find gray daylight creeping in. She stretched and groaned, stiff and sore from sitting on the sofa for so long. It was a familiar feeling after a life full of naps in odd places.

“Time to go already?”

“Just about.” Lily’s eyes were rimmed red and puffy. Her long red hair was a tangled mess. Tonks decided that she had no interest in looking at her own reflection.

They gathered up the potions and the house-elves. Tonks belatedly remembered her broom was still tucked away in Madam Rosmerta’s shed, but there would not be time to grab it. There was no telling what state Remus and James would be in. She just had to hope it would go unnoticed a bit longer.

Picksie, as a house-elf, had the ability to Apparate into Styncon Garden, and Tonks found it incredibly convenient, having made several uncomfortable Floo trips herself. She disliked traveling by Floo. She was always nervous that she would step into the wrong sitting room. Apparating was far more efficient.

Picksie’s ability also allowed her to Apparate around the grounds of Styncon Garden, which meant they did not have to waste time looking for James and Remus. Picksie was able to check the grounds quickly and return them to the kitchen for Tonks and Lily to treat immediately. With a pop, the house-elf was gone, and with another, she had returned to the kitchen with two very beat up and bloodied men.

As they had discussed beforehand, Lily prioritized the bite marks in James, and Tonks was to heal as many of Remus’s injuries as she could.

What caught her attention first were several punctures in his chest and abdomen that dripped blood. What worried her more than the blood was the way Remus gasped for air. Something, whatever it was that had gored him — Tonks couldn’t imagine what — had probably punctured a lung. Or if it hadn’t, any internal bleeding could be pressing on his lungs and even keeping his heart from beating properly. He may have had both a punctured lung and internal bleeding, judging by the pair of dark purple, heart-shaped bruises on Remus’s chest. Quickly, Tonks ran her wand over Remus’s abdomen, focused first on repairing the deepest of his wounds. Blue light pulsed at the tip of her wand, and she concentrated on that combination of Charms and Transfiguration that made up the root of healing magic. Her father’s voice filled her mind, reminding her of the basics of healing injuries. “The body wants to be fixed, and knows what to do; you’re just helping it along,” he had always said.

She did not have a lot of experience with internal wounds, and found it challenging to work on what she could not see, but she trusted in her own skill, and when his breathing was no longer strangled gasps, she dragged her wand over each of his external wounds, drawing blood away from cavities and knitting together open veins.

Once the immediate danger was settled, and she was certain Remus’s heart and lungs were working appropriately, she took an assessment of everything else. He seemed to have several misaligned joints, which Tonks thought odd injuries, but they were easy enough to set straight. There were also several superficial cuts and scrapes that she left alone, and three breaks in one of his legs that she set, but did not heal for fear of overtaxing his body. When she was confident she had done all that she could, she Levitated his body into the sitting room.

The last time Tonks had been to Styncon Garden, the sitting room had served as a make-shift hospital room for Remus and Sirius, and it looked as if it had not changed. Lily had thrown down towels and padding over both the floor and the furniture, then covered the entire room in white sheets.

Tonks gently set Remus down on the sofa and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. He was cold and clammy. She hurried back into the kitchen, careful to step around Picksie and Lily, who were still at work on James — Tonks glimpsed a deep bite mark in his stomach as Picksie lifted a cloth so Lily could drip dittany over the wound — and dug a Blood-Replenishing Potion out from the box. She hurried back to Remus’s side and woke him just enough to get him to drink. Some of the potion spilled as she uncorked the bottle, staining the white sheets with bright red blooms, but Tonks had not expected to be perfect at this. She hadn’t been doing this for years the way Lily had.

Once Remus had finished the potion, with minimal loss down his chin, Tonks helped him lay back down. His eyes closed and he immediately slipped back into sleep. Not only was the transformation itself taxing, and running around at night exhausting, Tonks had needed to draw on his body’s own stores of energy for the healing. It was likely that he would be asleep for a while.

Tonks turned to help Lily, only to find Picksie lifting James with her own wandless magic and setting him down on a set of cushions not far from the sofa Remus rested on. Lily was two steps behind her, uncorking a Blood-Replenishing Potion. “Tonks, please get me another one,” she said, and Tonks rushed to follow instructions.

By the time Tonks returned with another potion, Lily had already gotten James to drink the first one without spilling a drop. Tonks made sure to uncork the second one before handing it to Lily. She thought she saw tear streaks on Lily’s face, which startled her, but she forgot as James coughed and spluttered.

“Hold him still, please —”

Tonks rushed forward and helped hold James’s shoulders still. She realized she was staring at the scarred half of his face and quickly focused on Lily instead.

“No,” he mumbled, half-awake. “I can’t do another —”

“James, please, you lost so much blood.”

It took a bit more coaxing, but Lily was able to convince James to finish the second bottle. Tonks helped him lay back down and pulled a blanket over him. Lily recorked the bottle and pushed herself back to her feet, but James grabbed her hand.

“Lily —”

She knelt back down and squeezed his hand.

“Lily, I can’t do another full moon. Not with him like this. Not without Sirius.”

“I know,” she said. She brushed some of his dark, messy hair out of his face and tears fell from her cheeks onto his. “We’ll talk to them both. We’ll make it work.”

Tonks looked away, embarrassed to be intruding on this private moment. She did not know what had happened during September’s full moon, but she knew that in July, Sirius had been the one to take the brunt of Remus’s anger, and James had largely been unscathed. She wondered if something had changed between them, or if James had simply become a surrogate for Remus’s anger.

Her eyes caught on something familiar on the mantelpiece. There, tucked among photographs of James and Lily, Remus and Sirius, and Harry, was a wand. Curiosity seized practicality and Tonks crossed the room to examine it more closely. She estimated it was just over ten inches, with a darkly polished handle, and a fine twist to the wood before it tapered off into the end of the wand.

“It’s Remus’s,” Lily said softly.

Tonks turned. Lily was still seated at James’s side, holding his hand, but James appeared to be asleep. Lily wiped her cheeks with the heel of her free hand.

“Remus left it here last May.”

“I thought he broke his wand dueling Bellatrix.”

“Yes, his first wand. He got a new one when Barty Crouch stole his wand a few years ago, the one you’re holding now. He used it for about a year, until Regulus took his old wand back when he killed Barty. It was that one he was using to duel Bellatrix. He never did care for the replacement wand, and hasn’t picked it up since his duel. Says he doesn’t need it when he’s talking to other werewolves.”

“Doesn’t he Apparate?”

“I suppose he doesn’t.”

Tonks set the wand back down carefully beside the jar of Floo powder. Lily extricated her hand from James’s with similar care.

“Watch them for me, will you?” Lily asked. “I’m going to help Picksie take care of the kitchen. I think James left half his blood in the floorboards.”

“Is it always this bad?” Tonks asked.

Lily shook her head. “I think it’s a lot harder, not just because Sirius is gone, and what that means to the both of them but — well, I think simply it is much harder for a deer to manage a wolf than for a dog to manage a wolf.”

Tonks suddenly understood all of Remus’s wounds. She imagined what it must have been like for James, who maintained his reasonable senses during the full moon, to have to corral a wolf in the body of a prey animal, to know he could defend himself but not in any way that might injure Remus too terribly until it was nearly sunrise, and help would be on the way. Tonks could see why he was so desperate to not let another full moon pass in this fashion.

She walked back to Remus’s side and settled herself into the small space between him and James, listening to their steady breathing. Though she knew Remus had passed a violent night, and those violent feelings were still trapped inside of him, he looked peaceful like this. Worn down in the corners of his eyes and in the grey in his hair, and gaunt just hours after a transformation, but peaceful. There was a thin scar that split his lower lip in two, and a striking set of stripes across his nose, but she did not think they made him any less attractive. She’d always been intrigued by her cousin’s best friend, this man who was quiet, respectful, and yet had somehow managed to capture the attention of someone as wild and loud as Sirius Black.

Remus’s breathing changed, and Tonks was pulled from her reverie. She pressed two fingers against Remus’s neck and checked his pulse. It was steady. She let out a sigh of relief, and, just to be sure, took her wand and ran it over his chest again. She saw no sign that anything had torn or open, felt no injury she had not repaired. Her own heartbeat slowed as she realized Remus was alright.

Then his eyes fluttered open and her heart rate picked up once more. They were green like Lily’s though not as striking, and they seemed strangely unfocused. They settled onto Tonks’s eyes and she wondered for a moment what colour they were. Were they her more usual warm brown? Had they settled into her mother’s grey eyes? Were they something else entirely? Something out of her control?

“Well this is a cruel trick,” Remus whispered, and smiled wryly.

Tonks’ mind whirred like a Snitch desperate to be free of a Seeker’s grasp, but she found no answer, no way to interpret the strange words and expression. Remus only made it worse as he reached up and pressed his hand to her cheek.

“I always knew I hated myself but I didn’t think I’d punish myself with a vision of you with his face.”

Before Tonks could protest that she was not a vision and that this was her face, just her unaffected face, Remus pulled her close and kissed her.

He tasted like blood. He smelled like morning dew. She had not expected to feel the raised scar on his lower lip, but she did. For a moment — the briefest of moments — she closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe this was real, and that she wasn’t going to pretend, for his sake, that he truly had been dreaming.

She pulled herself away and swallowed down the tears that swelled in her throat. “You should rest,” she said.

“You won’t be here when I wake up,” he protested.

“No,” she said. “I won’t.”

Despite her honesty, it seemed that the brief attempt at wakefulness was all he had, and he returned to his proper dreams. Tonks wondered if she would continue to feature in them. It was unfortunate she had never mastered Legilimency. There had been a special course for Aurors, but it required the steadiness of a one-track mind. Tonks may have been stubborn enough to succeed at difficult challenges, but focusing on one thing alone was too much for her.

Which is why her mind was still spinning down several different paths, spiraling out of control. Remus had kissed her. He had not thought she was Sirius. He had not thought she was someone else. He had known who she was, and had only noted she looked like a Black, that she looked like Sirius. He had known who she was and he had kissed her.

But he had thought it was a dream. Did it make a difference?

She wondered if that moment was the only one she would ever get.

She wondered if that moment made everything better or worse.

“Everything alright?” Lily asked. “Tonks?”

Tonks still had her wand on Remus’s chest. Though her mind was running at a hundred miles an hour, she had not moved an inch.

“Fine,” she said, though she could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She shoved her wand into her pocket and rubbed her eyes until she did not feel like she was about to break. “He’s alright — I just had a little…. It was nothing.”

“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve got to go back to Hogwarts soon, don’t you?”

“Twelve on, twelve off,” she sighed. She was supposed to be there by nine in the morning, but Mad-Eye had made her swear not to come back until noon. She’d overworked her shift to make sure Katie was cared for, and he’d made her promise to take her entire break. She checked her watch. It was nearly eight am now. She might have fallen asleep on her feet or curled up under the portrait of Sir Cadogan if she’d had to be at the castle by nine.

“I have a few hours,” she said.

“I made a room ready for you yesterday, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

Lily warned her to skip the fourth step on her way upstairs. Tonks thought remembering on her way up was simple enough. Remembering on her way back down would be harder.

Tonks collapsed into bed, not even positive it was the right bed. She could be in Harry’s bed for all she knew, but she didn’t care. Even her worries over Remus vanished when her head hit the pillow, and she knew nothing but sleep.

When her pocketwatch alarm did finally chirp at her, reminding her it was time to return to Hogwarts, the warm afternoon sun was spilling over the bed. It was warm, and she did not want to leave it for the brisk wind of Hogsmeade. Why did Hogwarts have to be so far north anyway?

But she had a job to do. Tonks pulled herself out of bed with a lot of grunting and groaning and stumbled downstairs. She skipped the fourth step largely by accident, after nearly tripping over the fifth, and returned to the sitting room.

Lily was there, but she had fallen asleep on the floor, not far from where James had been laying. She did not see James, but she noted that the door to James and Lily’s bedroom was open. She was glad James was awake and on his feet. She ought to be polite and say goodbyes, but she didn’t want to disturb any of them.

That, of course, all fell apart when she reached for the Floo Powder and dropped it to the floor. The ceramic bowl crashed into the stone hearth and Tonks swore under her breath. It was easy enough to repair, but the damage had been done. She heard movement behind her, the rustling of sheets. She prayed it was Lily. Her prayers went unheard.

“Tonks?” Remus said in a quiet, groggy voice. It was such a raw tone, and Tonks wished he would repeat her name that way over and over again. That prayer went unheard, too.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

As she scooped Floo into the newly fixed jar, she reminded herself not to turn around. She could not let him see her face. She could not let him realise his mistake.

“I just came to make sure you were alright,” she said. “Sirius and the Potters aren’t the only ones who get to worry about you.”

He was quiet as she replaced the jar of Floo Powder on the mantle. She told herself not to turn around. She told herself to throw the powder in and just go. He was alright, he was awake, and she did not need him to know that he had really kissed her. It would only hurt him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t be here?”

“You shouldn’t care.” It was such a vulnerable whisper, Tonks wondered if he still thought he was dreaming.

“But I do,” she said, with as much of her own vulnerability as she could muster.

“Well don’t,” he snapped.

Remus was the most reasonable and empathetic person Tonks had ever met, but in this one thing he was proving to be so unreasonably stubborn. She couldn’t understand how he could tell her to simply stop caring, when surely he, of all people, knew how little control you had over who you fell in love with.

She turned around, and it brought her no joy to see his tired, defeated face slacken into shock then twist into horror as he saw the proud Black family cheekbones and her strong jawline, so like Sirius’s. She knew the horror was not at how she looked but at the realisation of what he’d done.

“Fine,” she said. “If you don’t want to talk like adults, we won’t talk like adults. When you’ve decided that you’re ready to be friends again, and actually talk to me like another human being, let me know.” Tonks threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped through the green flames into the Potters’ cottage in Hogsmeade. She let the cold, brisk wind dry her tears as she continued her solitary walk back up to Hogwarts castle.

#harry potter and the half-blood prince #nymphadora tonks #remus lupin #harry potter everyone lives au #hp everyone lives #hbp

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 years

Text

One-

A Stranger Things Fanfic

Chapter Five- Part Three

Phina and Nancy make their way to the field, hearing Jonathan's gun going off. Once they get to the grassy area, they see him shooting at some cans set up on tree stumps.

Phina smiles at her friend as he misses every single shot. Nancy also smiles in amusement.

"You're supposed to hit the cans, right," Nancy asks as they get closer.

Jonathan looks at the girls and smiles, "no actually, you see the spaces between the cans? I'm aiming for those."

"Well then you're a perfect shot Jonathan," Phina smirks sarcastically.

He does a little fake bow, making Phina snort. She loved when he was sarcastic, he learned it all from her.

Nancy sets her things down, Phina following suit. Jonathan starts to reload the gun.

"You ever shot a gun before," he asks Nancy.

Nancy laughs, "have you met my parents."

Jonathan snorts, "yeah, I haven't shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday, he made me kill a rabbit."

"A rabbit," Nancy asks.

"Yeah," he shrugs, "guess he thought it would make me into more of a man or something. I cried for a week."

"I remember that, I went over and had to take all of your meals to your room cause you wouldn't leave," Phina says.

"Jesus," Nancy whispers.

Jonathan looks at her, "I'm a fan of thumper."

"I meant your dad," she says, sighing a little.

"Yeah. Lonnie's a real PoS," Phina laughs, "doesn't care about anyone but himself."

Jonathan nods, "yeah, I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point. But I wasn't around for that part."

Nancy gestures for him to hand her the gun and he looks down awkwardly, "yeah, just uh, point and shoot."

Nancy nods and takes the gun, "I don't think my parents ever loved each other."

"Must of married for some reason," Jonathan says.

Nancy raises the gun up, "my mom was young, my dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac, and they started their nuclear family."

Jonathan shakes his head, taking a glance at Phina who just nods, "screw that."

"Yeah." Nancy closes one eye to aim. "Screw that."

She shoots, the bullet hitting one of the cans. She smiles and looks at Jonathan, who smiles back. Phina looks in between the two of them with a wide smile. Perfect.

The three teens walked through the forest, Phina leading about twenty feet ahead. Nancy and Jonathan hung back, together, and Phina didn't mind one bit. She looked around the forest ahead of her, admiring its beauty. By now, almost every single tree had lost all of their leaves, which now crunched beneath Phina's boots.

Phina sighed, she loved being in the forest, it brought her a comfort that couldn't be found anywhere else, it even soothed her ever on going headache. Something about the way the trees reached for the sky, as if grasping for heaven, with its claws out. The roots of the tree shielding her from the damned below.

Not to mention the colors. Her artists soul yearned for any and all color she could find, the forest bloomed with it. Even this deep into fall, the fiery oranges and reds calling out to her fiery heart. She wish she had her sketchbook and her colored pencils. She'd capture the essence of its beauty on a page.

She was brought out of her mind by the sound of Nancy's voice, "you never said what I was saying."

"What," Jonathan asks her, confused.

"Yesterday, you said I was saying something, and that's why you took my picture," she explains.

"Oh, I don't know," he says, flustered, "I guess I saw this girl, you know, trying to be someone else. But in that moment, it was like you were alone, or, you thought you were. You know, you could just be yourself."

Silence, and then Nancy speaks, "that is such bullshit!"

Phina turns around as Jonathan says, "what?"

They had all stopped, and Nancy turned to Jonathan, "I am not trying to be someone else. Just because I'm dating Steve and you don't like him."

Jonathan shakes his head and starts walking again, "you know what, forget it. I just thought it was a good picture."

Nancy walks after him, "he is actually a good guy."

"Ok," Jonathan says sarcastically.

"Yesterday, with the camera." They both stop again. "He's not like that, at all. He was just being protective."

"Yeah, that one word for it," Jonathan says, waking away again.

Phina rolls her eyes as Nancy says, "oh and I guess what you did was ok?"

"No, I never said that," he defends himself.

"He has every right to be pissed," Nancy shouts at him.

Jonathan stops again and turns around, "ok, alright, does that mean I have to like him?"

Nancy stops, "no."

"Listen, don't take it so personally ok," he says and steps towards her, "I don't like most people. He's in the vast majority."

He turns and walks away, again. How long are they gonna play this stupid game? Phina groans to herself.

Nancy looks around, "you know, I was actually starting to think you were ok."

Jonathan stops, again, "yeah?"

"Yeah," Nancy answers, "yeah. I was thinking, Jonathan Byers, maybe he's not the pretentious creep everyone says he is."

"Guys," Phina groans, trying to stop their stupid bickering, she was getting irritated now.

Jonathan starts to walk back towards Nancy, "oh I was just staring to think you were ok. I was thinking, Nancy Wheeler, maybe she's not just another suburban girl, that thinks she rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does, until that phase passes and they marry some boring one time jock who now works sales, who lives out her perfectly boring life at the end of a cul-de-sac, exactly like their parents who they thought were so depressing."

"Would both of you shut the hell up! Right now, you both suck, and I couldn't give a damn about who's wrong or right. I'm out here to find whatever took Will and Barb, so save your petty bullshit for the high school where all these stupid little arguments belong. Got it! Good," Phina yells at them fed up with their crap.

They look at her like scolded children, both of them nodding.

"Now shut the hell up and look for this gods damned thing," she growls and turns on her heel in the direction they were previously walking.

They follow her with their heads down, not noticing the shift in the trees. Not noticing how the branches coiled and uncoiled, copying the motion of Phina's clenching and unclenching fist.

Night time had fallen, and Phina had slowed down to be next to her sister and Jonathan, for safety. They pointed their flashlights ahead, walking and listening to the forest around them.

Phina stopped, listening to a noise she had heard. Nancy stops to, also hearing the noise.

Jonathan turns to the girls, more so towards Nancy, "what, are you tired?"

"Shut your sarcastic ass up Byers," Phina whispers, listening harder.

"What," Jonathan asks, a little shocked at her words.

Nancy sushes him, "I heard something."

Phina nods, pointing her light in the direction the noise is coming from. She walks towards it and the other two follow.

The noise becomes clearer, a distressed and painful whimper. As they got closer, Phina felt her heart painfully lurch.

A deer lays on its side, injured, bleeding everywhere. Phina covers her mouth, to keep a small cry from escaping. She kneels down next to the doe, reaching a hand out to stroke her.

Nancy kneels besides her, "it's been hit by a car."

Phina nods, tears building in her eyes.

Nancy looks back at Jonathan, "we can't just leave it."

Nancy grabs the gun she had sat down and looks at it, Phina shifts back a little as her sister aims.

"I'll do it," Jonathan says, noting Nancy's distraught face.

"I," she starts to protest, remembering his story from earlier.

He grabs the gun, "I'm not nine anymore."

Phina looks into the animals eyes, you'll be ok. The animal stares back, an almost thankful look in its eyes. Then it's being pulled back, almost to quickly for Phina's eyes to process. She falls backwards and into her sister, who helps her up from the ground.

They all breathe heavily, "what was that?"

"I'm willing to bet that's what we came here for. Come on," Phina waves, tracking the trail of blood the deer left behind.

The other two hesitate, glancing at each other before following. The blood on the leaves glisten in Phina's light. Jonathan and Nancy shine their lights around, Jonathan holding the gun up as well.

The trail suddenly stops, making Phina stop and look around.

"Where did it go," Nancy asks shakily.

"I don't know," Jonathan breathes, "Do you see any more blood."

"The trails gone, like it vanished into thin air," Phina answers.

Phina turns and walks away from the two, Nancy almost doesn't notice, but when she does, she follows. Jonathan, unfortunately, doesn't notice.

Phina shines her light on a tree, for some reason, it calls to her. At the base of to tree is a hole, which emits a low noise that sounds more like a growl than anything.

"Phina, what are you..."

Nancy looks at the tree and then at her sister. They creep slowly over to the tree, bending down to look at it. A gooy substance is all over it, and blood. The girls look at each other, the same question on there mind, should we go in?

"Jonathan," Nancy shouts, but they had gone to far, he couldn't hear them.

"What could go wrong," Phina shrugs, she's read enough horror novels to know those where the most fatal words she could've said, but, she didn't give a damn.

She starts to climb into the whole, a sputtering Nancy going after her. They climb through the tunnel, coming out on the other side. Phina helped Nancy up and looked around.

It looked like the forest they were just in, but different, more sinister. Particles float around them in the air, the color of the forest void. It felt utterly wrong to Phina, yet familiar, like she had seen it before. No, she shakes her head, that's crazy.

The girls look around and start to walk away from the tree, their flashlights beginning to flicker. Phina hits hers a few times and it stops.

They jump as a noise comes from their right. They whirl their lights on it, and are met with the monster feeding on the deer.

Phina grips Nancy's hand, so tightly that she'd probably leave a bruise, but Nancy squeezes back just as hard. They slowly back away, one step at a time, staring at the monster. Nancy steps back and a strange vine thing crunches under her foot.

The monster turns towards them and roars loudly, it's mouth opening up just like the drawing Phina did of it. The girls bolt.

"Jonathan!"

-1868 words-

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #strangerthingsfanfic #strangerthings #slow burn #romance #one

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lorelylantana · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1: Catalyst

Sing, oh stars in the heavens above, and through me tell the story of that great warrior.

Tell me how she danced across the battlefield for the sake of her adopted country,

Sing the song of the storm of blades as she slashed through her enemies,

The story of her journey to that shining castle on a mountain,

Tell the tale of her rise to power and glory,

Sing of the . . .

Wait

No seriously, I think this is a problem.

See? This is the story I was telling you about.

It seems like a normal story to me.

It’s not I swear! Just keep watching.

Alright let’s get this over with so I can go back to being dead.

When you read the epics and hear the legends, you expect every great tale to have a remarkable beginning, some sort of sign or omen warning of turbulent times. Whenever I look back to that day I can't help but wonder at how unremarkable, how ordinary, that turning point was. One decision. One mistake to turn the tide. And one mistake can bring entire civilizations to their knees.

Or maybe I was just bound by destiny. Maybe, as arrogant as it may seem, I was born for this life of mine. All I know is, for better or worse, this is the day it starts.My mother was driving me to school on the way to her law firm when she spoke.

“Allie, sweetie, how is school going?” I looked up from putting the finishing touches on purple eyeshadow to glance at her.

“It’s going well, we started to read The Outsiders in English, and I’ve already read ahead,” she nodded, knowing that I usually did this with English assignments.

“Just don’t let that get in the way of completing the work from your other classes,” I smiled at her and assured her I wouldn’t.

“I’m worried about you, Allie, the principal called me yesterday and she said she suspects you’re being bullied. Is that true?”

I tensed, this was a conversation I had been dreading for months. I quickly recovered and put up a smile.

“I’m fine Mom, really. You shouldn’t be worried, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Just because you can handle something doesn’t mean you should.”

I gazed out the window to avoid looking at her. I knew she was right, but I didn’t see a way to stop those teasing me. I tried everything they teach you to when you were a little kid. I tried being nice to them, and they scoffed. I tried to ignore them, but they kept coming, so I gave up on making peace. Now whenever someone tried to mock me I just found whatever flaw I could find and threw it back at them as fiercely as I could. Mom sighed, pulling into the drop off lot.

“Allie, I’m worried-”

“Just forget about it,” I snapped, not wanting the conversation to go on.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

I opened the car door to leave, relieved that I didn’t have to face anyone just yet. I strode toward the entrance, ready to begin the morning as I had every day for the past three years. I slammed the school doors open and the hall crowd quieted, turning to stare as I stepped inside. I stood and waited with one hand on my hip as the crowd lowered their eyes and parted for me, not wanting to be caught on my war path. Once clear, I continued on my way, black high heeled boots cracked against the floor as I made my way to the cafeteria, staring down anyone who dared to meet my eye. I took my seat at the center of my table, as always, to wait for the first bell to ring.

When the harassment reached the point where my friends abandoned me, they stopped sitting at my lunch table. Back then, we sat at the back of the room, away from the eyes of teachers and hall monitors. Shortly after, I decided to move to the center of the cafeteria, I arrived before the clique that typically sat there, and when they saw me, they quickly migrated to the now vacant back table. Now I could always expect the center table to be empty for me each morning.

Before I could relax, however, I was approached by the one person who made an effort to annoy me each morning. He gave me a once over, noting my bodycon dress and leather jacket. He raised his eyebrows at the yellow carnation necklace I bought after reading a book on the language of flowers.

“Impeccably dressed as always, I see. Really Alice why do you even bother? No amount of footwear will be able to drag you out of the rabbit hole you’ve fallen into.”

Word around school claimed Lance was the son of Genevieve Pendragon, the author that famously brought the Tales of King Arthur to life. In her novel series documenting a King in a country named England and claimed a throne by drawing a sword from a stone and went on to found an organization of knights that gathered around a round table. I admired her work but thought that her son could use a bit more revision before being released into the world. He didn’t bother me much at first but pretty soon he became the pack leader of those who got a kick out of toying with me. Lance wasn’t the cruelest of the culprits but he was certainly the most frequent.

His popularity made him infuriating. He often looked down at me from the throne being a seemingly chivalrous scholar on the school soccer team bestowed upon him. His eyes in particular caught most girls’ attention. They were a dark, night sky blue, framed strands of smooth raven hair that seemed to captivate anyone he spoke to.

Unfortunately for him, that affect never had much sway over me. After all, his throne once belonged to me.

“What I do and don’t wear is none of your concern, Lance, and My name is Allie, not Alice. Get it right or go bother someone else,” I snapped, irritation making me harsher than usual. Lance recoiled, looking taken aback for a moment before recovering.

“Someone’s feisty today, hmm? It appears someone’s woken up on the wrong side of the looking glass.”

Harmless as he was, that didn’t stop him from being obnoxious. It was really a shame though, because Alice in Wonderland was one of my favorite stories before he showed up.

“Yes, it seems I did, I was unfortunate enough to land on the side with you in it.”

He looked as though he was about to respond before the bell rang. I hurried to get my bag in my locker and march to english class. I made it to my seat just in time and took out my copy of The Outsiders.

“Good morning class,” called Ms. Grean from her place at the front of the room,

“Today we will be finding and analyzing examples of foreshadowing in the novel. Now when Ponyboy refers to the lit end of a cigarette-”

A piece of paper landed on my notebook. All over the page there were crude drawings of white rabbits and card soldiers, at the top was an attempted depiction of me dressed as Alice in front of the Queen of Hearts. Below the caption said: ‘Off with her head!’ I sneered. I didn’t know who they thought they were dealing with, but a scrap of paper certainly wasn’t worth my time, especially if it was sent by a coward too rabbit hearted to sign their work.

I casually got up to throw the paper away, wary of any attempts to trip me. Tossing the sheet into the recycle bin, I reaffirmed my disdain. After a few rounds of getting shoved into a corner by hostile groups of students a half-baked attempt at mockery was of little consequence.

The bell sounded the end of class and a reluctantly headed to P.E. As soon as I walked into the gym I saw the obstacles set up on the field inside the track. Mr. Barnes had the girls running exercises for the gymnastics unit while the boys took the pacer test inside, which I was grateful for, because it gave me a reprieve from Lance and his constant annoyances. My relief, as I was soon to find out, was short lived. It began when I was running laps around the track, taking care not to step in puddles left by the previous night’s storm. The track itself was mostly dry, with a few wet spots here and there. Along the edge, however, there was a large murky pool where the pavement dipped. I was wary of it because I was running along the outer ring of the track. I was coming up on it for the third time when a shout was heard over the girls’ pounding feet.

“Hey Alice! Long time no see!”I groaned. The voice belonged to none other than Rose Hart. She was built like an amazon and had long red hair tied back in a braided bun. She was one of my main tormentors aside from Lance but where Lance acted out more often than Rose, her attacks were more severe, and often resulted in minor injuries.

“For what must be the hundredth time, Rose, my name is Allie, not Alice.” She only snorted as she continued to stalk toward me until we were at arm’s length. We were both the same age but she towered a full five inches over me at 5’9. I forced my face into an expression of apathy as she opened her mouth to retort.

“Are you sure, Allie? Because last time I checked you were as mad as a hatter, so the name Alice suits you better, don’t you think?” I clenched my jaw, normally these kind of remarks were standard practice, but I found they ground on my nerves more than usual today.

“Rose I really admire your persistence in being pathetic but to be honest craning my neck to look down on you does grow tiring so could you go somewhere else? I don’t want to waste my time talking to you when there are more intelligent conversations to be had.”

Rose’s face went blank, other than correcting my name, I never talked back to her in favor of ignoring her. All was quiet, but then I felt her hand grab my shoulder and shove me into the water behind me. I didn’t really think about what I did next; all I knew was that I was angry. For years I had been tormented, teased, and made fun of, but now I was done. I was done with so many days ruined by the humiliation, of constantly turning the other cheek. I was sick and tired of the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I had to reign in my anger. If she wanted to fight then so be it.

Before I could register the action I drew my leg back from my position on the ground and lashed out against her knee. She fell back with a yell but I was already up and walking away. I tracked muddy water into the gym as I made my way to the locker rooms. The boys had finished their test, and were resting as Mr. Barnes went outside so the girls could start their sit and reach test. I slipped his notice as he made his way behind me, so I stormed across the gym unhindered.

Lance came up to me as I was opening the door to the locker room, his face flushed with concern when he saw the state I was in. His words came out at a rush.

“Blades, Allie are you alright? You’re not injured are you?”

I bared my teeth at him and continued on, flicking my hair as I tore past him to splatter mud on his face before I yanked the door to the locker room open. Before crossing the room I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I saw my slightly upturned nose smeared with mud and brown eyes framed by raven hair that now hung in wet clumps around my face. My bangs came down above my eyebrows until it hung lower at the corner of my left eye.

I spent more time than I would have liked analyzing my reflection. The longer I gazed at the mess the more I looked like someone down on their luck. I looked like someone who let themselves be pushed around so I stood up straight and began to clean my face. I turned away after wiping the mud from my face and went out the door. I had a brush in my bag. I fought back tears and gripped the locker door.

I wouldn’t let myself fall apart. This had happened before and I would deal with it the same way I always did. Instead of crying I walked around the side to the school where a dense forest grew and the sidewalk was trapped by grass that grew tall and unchecked.

I searched the ground before I found a trail of flattened plants that marked where the thief broke off to walk in the forest. Whoever took my bag had emptied its contents and hung them along the trees, each item deeper in the wood than the last. The trail led pretty deep into the forest, ending with my necklace in the dirt. After fixing my necklace around my neck I sat down against a tree’s trunk, emotionally exhausted, and finally let myself cry.

I looked like I didn’t care, like I was above all of the harassment, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t take its toll. How had I fallen so far? One day, I’m the talk of the town, then the next I’m a pariah. I refused to believe I was the problem, but being shut out still hurt everyday.

It doesn’t matter how badly it hurts, though, I refuse to break.

The air started to hum and I looked up, startled. The trees around me had changed. I didn’t recognize the woods anymore. It seemed as though the forest exploded with life. I could hear the flutter of birds wings and the wind rustling the leaves.

The scent of fresh air felt intoxicating, a taste of spring in the midst of winter. My vision sharpened, the green of the trees and the rich blue of the flowers lining the forest becoming more vivid than ever before. I felt like I could grasp lightning in the sky and drag it crashing down to earth.

I stood there for a few moments, drunk on this newfound sense of power. I closed my eyes and felt the air hum with energy and crackle along my skin and settle in my palms and solidified. Startled I looked down at my hands to find each curled around a small dagger. It shouldn’t have been possible but somewhere in my bones I knew I made them. I knew how easy it would be to send blades flying into any target my eyes landed on.

I dropped the daggers like they were coals and backed away into a tree. I wasn’t bloodthirsty. I was a target of the bulk of the student body but I didn’t want to kill anyone.

Why did holding those daggers feel so comforting? So natural?

“Hey, I found one,” called a gruff voice from behind me.

I whipped around, accidentally sending another blade in the direction of a voice. For a split second I was terrified I would kill the old man who spoke. His hand lashed out and the dagger froze in mid air, trapped in what looked like a glass bubble. The dagger twisted as his hand spun and brought it to his face for closer inspection.

“Nice craftsmanship, though I don’t really appreciate being attacked so early in the day. I haven’t even finished my coffee,” he grouched, waving a coffee cup in my direction with one hand while absentmindedly sending my dagger into the woods in the direction he pointed it at with the other. A squirrel scurried up him and settled on his shoulder and gazed at me without a trace of fear.

“What’s going on?” I asked with a quaking voice. The man took an obnoxiously drawn out sip of his drink before speaking. His clothes were strange, a black cloak covered a silver breastplate emblazoned with a black dragon and black trousers. A hood was drawn over pale purple eyes surrounded by smile lines.

“They didn’t brief you on this before they sent you over? I should report your world’s praetor.” he inquired with a raised brow. I shook my head. Not wanting to create anymore wayward weapons I curled my hands into fists and tucked them under my arms. His old lavender eyes softened.

“You poor thing, scared of your own magic. You must come from a stale world.”

“A what?” I quivered, still shaking.

“A stale world. That’s what we call places where magic doesn’t come naturally to humans. Magic is intuitive here, though every person has a different way of manifesting it,” his voice took on a strict, clipped tone, like he was talking to a recently recruited soldier.

“Where is ‘here’?” I asked, calming down.

“We’re in Ivaline, the world that connects all worlds. More specifically speaking we’re in Spade, one of four countries.”

“Wait. How do I get home? I can’t stay here my mom and dad will be worried. I have to go back,” I stammered, sure this man would understand where I was coming from but he shook his head.

“It’s not quite so simple. Getting into Ivaline is easier then getting out. Ivaline connects all worlds, so most gateways between worlds lead into Ivaline. If you’ve seen doors shaped in trees or stones, or a shadow where it wasn’t supposed to be, that’s a gate. Stepping through it will put you to the country your most compatible with. Your soul’s drawn to it, see? The thing is in order to get back you have to know how to make a gateway in this world that leads to yours and from the looks of things you come from a stale world, so the connection between the two probably hasn’t been documented.”

“So I’m stuck here? I can’t leave?” I despaired as tears started to roll down my face. I looked down. A dagger formed in my palm at will only this time my hand shook

“I hate to say it but you may not belong in your old world anymore.” The man’s voice was soft but stern, the voice of a parent when telling a child a harsh reality.

“What do you mean? Of course I belong there. It’s all I’ve ever known,” I protested with quivering lips only to have the man shake his head.“The magic within you has been unlocked. Brought to the surface. It’s a part of you now. Even if you returned right now that’s no guarantee you will be treated the same as you were when you left.”I threw the dagger into the ground.

“You think I don’t know what that feels like?” I sobbed, “I know what it’s like to be singled out. I can handle it.” The old man’s tilted his head and regarded me again.

“Just because you can handle something doesn’t mean you should.”My head snapped up.

“What?”

“Facing adversity is admirable, yes, but if the challenge doesn’t benefit you it’s okay to leave it behind. If you don’t pick your battles wisely you may collapse from the strain when the one that matters begins,” he said and everything stopped. I looked to the sky, so blue and vast, not at all like the dreary clouds that hung over my school. My school, where everyone put me in their crosshairs. And all I did was take it.

Why did I do it? Up until now I seethed in my own indignation, furious with the world for dragging me down so low. But what if I let that anger go? Would it be easier? Could I be happy?

“Do . . . Do you think things could be different? Could things get better?” I asked, voice still broken and shaking from tears. The old man smiled.

“Now that’s up to you, now isn’t it?” the man said with a smile, and I smiled back.

“Yes, it is. Thank you,” I said as I wiped the last of the tears from my face.

“Good. Now what’s your name?” the old man asked, taking a small pouch from inside his cloak.“Allie. Allie Sage.”

“Pleased to meet you Miss Sage. The name’s Carrick. Now my job is to send new arrivals like yourself north, toward the Spade capital,” he introduced himself, pulling out a silver gauntlet as he did so. He took my hand then, slipping the cool metal over my forearm. The metal warped magically to fit my arm and was engraved with an eagle with its talons around a sword. On the end closer to my wrist there was a built in compass whose needle didn’t quite point north.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This marks you as a student bound for the Spade palace. This world is used to newcomers see? Other worlds have become accustomed to sending some of their youths to Ivaline every year, so every nation has their own policies in place for taking care of those newcomers and assimilating them into the population. Here in Spade you’re to travel towards the capital, where you’ll be trained in our lifestyle and eventually choose a trade. You’re to travel alone but the compass on that gauntlet twill point you in the direction of a family paid by the government to house you and buy any supplies you may need. The nearest town is Avanye, you’ll know it by the barracks and training fields. Off you go, and best of luck to you.”

This seems like a normal beginning to me. Good call going a few hours back in time by the way. Gives Allie some character before she becomes the protagonist.

Thanks, but the beginning isn’t the thing I was talking about, it happens later in the story, a couple books ahead.

So why did you bring me so far back? Just show me when it happened.

I want you to get to know her first.

Why?

Because . . .

Because what?

We might have to bring her here.

. . . . What?

Just listen-

Are you insane? You know how dangerous that is?

That’s why I want you to watch. I think she can handle it.

But what could possibly justify making her a Tale Spinner? What did you see that was so bad?

Just watch her okay?

Find out what kind of person she is before you judge.

. . . Fine . . .

#original novel #original content #writing #fiction #fantasy #spade #Eagles Rising #The Spade Chronicles

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