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weasleyreidstyles · 5 months

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Serendipity

chapter two

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slight mind manipulation?

series masterlist; previous part; next part

At some point during the feast, you managed to sneak your way onto the Gryffindor table, sliding into the seat beside Ginny, who was sat with Dean Thomas to her other side, who shifted uncomfortably everytime Ron glared at the hand that was grazing his sister's.

"Nice face, Harold." you say sarcastically. "Who healed the break? It looks rushed."

"Thanks Meadow." he snarks before deflating further in his seat as your eyes tracked him for more injuries. "Tonks walked me from the train."

You hummed in acknowledgment before you went over the unhealed scabs and dried patches of blood with wordless spells which always left your friends marvelling at your skill.

"There. Now your face is pretty as ever." you say smirking, patting Harry's cheek which he swats away. "Can't have the 'Chosen One' at his worst now, can we?"

"Piss off." he grumbled but it was only banter between two friends.

"How are you, really, Harry? Where'd you disappear to on the train." you wanted to hear him say it, even if you did trust Theo's word.

"I was right about Malfoy-" he starts before you interrupt him.

"So I've heard. You've taken up stalking as a hobby now, Potter? That's low." you chuckle, which turns into a full on laugh as he glares at you, annoyed.

"He's a Death Eater." he lowers his voice, but his admission sucks the happiness right out of the air. "He was talking about some task that Voldemort has for him."

He pauses as if his mind is trying to catch up with the words tumbling from his mouth, before he looks directly at you, as if he's staring through you.

"You've seen Nott today right? And Parkinson?" you nodded. "What did they talk about? Did Nott talk about his father being caught at the Ministry? Or did-"

You raised a singular brow at your friend as if to say 'are you finished?'.

"Yes I saw them today, in the Prefects' carriage. We just caught up with small talk and some gossip about some Hufflepuff couple. Nothing more." the lie was quickly thought out and also not too far fetched – Pansy had mentioned something about a new couple in passing before you'd parted ways on the train.

"Nothing about tasks or creepy shops?" Ron asked as he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. You watched him, discust painting your features.

"Nothing about tasks, and certainly nothing about creepy shops. Please chew with your mouth closed, Ronald. Seriously Harry? Stalking?"

He only shrugged at you before turning to his plate of food. He was clearly put out about something and you would bet all your galleons that it had to do with the couple next to you, who were being nauseating, to put it lightly.

You and Hermione giggled as Ron muttered about his sister and her boyfriend showing any ounce of affection in front of him, sharing a glance as Harry continued to glance at them before looking away, visibly annoyed.

When Dumbledore began to stand in front of the House tables, you slipped back into your seat beside Luna; in the corner of your eye you watched as Theo gave you the subtlest of nods.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore announced, smiling broadly, his arms outstretched wide as if he were embracing the whole room. That's when you, and the rest of the Hogwarts student body, noticed that his right hand appeared to have started decaying at a rapid rate.

You made eye contact with Pansy who looked as horrified as everyone else.

What the fuck? She practically screamed into your mind as the sound of people whispering swept through the hall.

Dumbledore merely smiled before he shook the sleeve of his purple and gold cloak over his hand.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."

You drowned out the rest of his speech, like you do every year, instead conversing with Pansy in your head.

It looks like his hand has physically died. You say to her. It's got to be dark magic of some sort.

But what business does Dumbledore have messing with that sort of evil? She sounded as nauseated as you felt just thinking about it.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" Dumbledore said, prompting the man that you had yet to meet to stand up. "-is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

You swivelled in your seat to find Hermione in the crowds and mouthed 'potions?' to her with confusion written all over your face.

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"But if he's the Potions Professor, then who will be teaching Defence?" Cho spoke from across the table.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Well that answered that question.

"No!" you giggled quietly with Luna as everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Harry, who had shouted so loudly but didn't seem to care, Snape and Dumbledore.

And suddenly Defence is my least favourite subject. Theo spoke, making you choke on your drink as you laugh.

As if oblivious to the uproar his announcement just caused, Dumbledore waited only a few moments before the hall descended into silence once more, before continuing his long winded speech.

"Now as everyone in this Hall is aware," he pointedly looked anywhere but in the direction of the Slytherin table, "Lord Voldemort and his followers once again walk among us and gain strength and numbers everyday."

Suddenly the heads that were staring in Harry's direction turned pointedly to where Mattheo Riddle and his friends were sitting. Instead of shying away from their gazes, like Pansy and Daphne Greengrass and few others did, he continued to stare ahead at Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was garnering.

The silence seemed to strain painfully as Dumbledore spoke. But you seemed to zone out of what he was saying. Something about the castle's protection wards being fortified and strengthened; extra security; stricter curfew at night, etc. You took in none of it, instead focusing on your friends at the Slytherin table, who grew paler by the second. You'd watch out for them this year, especially Theo. None of them deserved to be put into the position they no doubt would all be in, come Christmas time.

Dumbledore's blue twinkling eyes swept over the students once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Your lessons tomorrow.

You wished it was as simple as school work, but you knew it would be anything but.

~∞~

You woke up early the next morning, the anticipation for what the day may bring making your anxiety skyrocket as you got ready to leave for the Great Hall, in which the ceiling sported a brilliantly blue sky, only a few clouds dotting the illusion. You met the Golden trio there, who were busy discussing Harry's theory about Malfoy.

"Well obviously Riddle's already inducted." Ron muttered as you sat down, a speck of blue, in a sea of red. "He is his father's son, after all."

"Still going on your Malfoy-is-a-death eater spiel? The day has hardly begun." you said as you piled scrambled eggs onto a plate, ignoring the pointed look that Professor Mcgonagall gave you as she handed out her House's timetables.

Ron seemed to be getting more agitated by the second as another group of third years on the table beside your's pointed between the four of you and whispered, not so discreetly, about what happened in June.

"It's rude to point." he snapped, sending a glare their way, causing them to turn around, cheeks painted with embarrassment.

"So sixth year looks very bare in comparison to last year, doesn't it." you say, steering Ron's glare from the backs of their heads while you looked over his timetable.

"I love being a sixth year already." Ron said, his mood brightening visibly thanks to your interference. "And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up in the common room and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione berated as you laughed.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, Ronald." you say with a smirk as Professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to the four of you. You'd already gotten your timetable the from Professor Flitwick that morning and found out that you were in the same classes as Hermione. You both finished off your plates and left Harry and Ron in favour of getting to Ancient Runes, where Theo and Riddle were waiting for you.

Reaching the classroom, you spotted Theo immediately and went to snag the seat beside him, but Pansy beat you to it with a playful smirk.

"Come and sit by me, Princess." you glared at your two friends as you turned around to find Riddle with his arm stretched over the back of the spare seat of his desk. "I don't bite."

"Somehow I highly doubt that." you mumbled as you searched for Hermione, who had chosen to sit near the front of the room, the seat beside her already taken. Traitor. She only looked at you apologetically before turning around.

You slumped into the seat, pointedly ignoring him as you took out your things. You could hear Theo and Pansy laughing at your expense so you sent a small stinging jinx wandlessly their way, smirking when they yelped in surprise.

"Smart girl." Riddle mumbled to himself, probably not intending for you to hear, but your cheeks flushed all the same.

"So was Theo lying about your disastrous ability to desipher runes, or was that just a way to get me to agree for your...help?" you ask, still choosing to igore him.

"Oh I assure you I'm quite terrible, Princess. Awful. In fact I'm not sure how I got back into this class, if I'm being entirely honest." he said it with a shrug before he smirked at you again. "I'm sure you can help me. You are top of the class, after all."

"Actually Mione was top of the class at the end of last year. Why not ask her?" you ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. He had turned to look directly at you, but his hand was still on the back of your chair.

You try, and fail, to push it off, sneering at the muscular appendage in offence. Damn him and his strong, quidditch arms.

"Theodore doesn't trust Granger, he trusts you. Therefore, I'm putting my trust into your...abilities to help me out."

Lovely. His words carried a double meaning. You were really considering hexing Theo and Pansy again for putting you in this situation.

His huff of laughter along with the burning pinch at the base of your skull were the only indications that he'd heard your thoughts.

After Defence, wait for me so that we can discuss the nature of your lessons and my apparent tutlage.

You ignored him for the rest of the lesson, but wordlessly agreed, nonetheless.

~∞~

You were complaining to Hermione the whole walk to the Defence classroom, and while she was amused, there was underlying worry in her responses.

"So he wants you to tutor him?" she asks curiously.

"Not a clue why." you say flipantly. "If I was him I'd much rather you taught me."

"Well I am a muggleborn, for starters." she says self-depricatingly and continues speaking, not allowing you to rebute her statement. "And you're still at the top of the class. Christ, you can do most spells non-verbally and wandlessly, far better than I can. I think I'd rather you than me, too. No offence."

You only smiled sarcastically at her. "I don't think anyone would willingly tutor him. Perhaps I should bargain a favour with him instead."

You left out the part where he was already fulfilling a kind of favour, for Theodore and Pansy, no less.

"One class in and my shoulders already ache." you whine as you rolled your shoulder to ease the pain that your heavy bag was causing. Harry and Ron met you outside the classroom a moment later, staring, horrified, at Hermione's armful of heavy books.

"We've gotten so much homework for Runes already." she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Now I see why we have so many frees this year." you grumble.

"Shame," Ron said with a yawn, before smirking at the two of you.

"Just you wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

The Defence classroom was gloomier than ever, but thankfully it was no longer sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with plates of cat photos. The dark curtains were drawn across the windows and the only light came from the numerous candles that dotted the room, insighting a headache when you tried to read the blackboard. Snape's personality appeared to shine all over the room, from the odd portraits to the weird contraptions that littered the space.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and I require your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

His dark, beady eyes scanned the room.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." he set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a low voice that you desperately wanted to drown out. But the burning sensation at the back of your skill prohibited you from doing just that.

No. Pay attention. Riddle was becoming a thorn in your side, and its only the first day.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Each time a neck is severed, it sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Someone read up on their Greek mythology this summer. You say to Theo, who smirks behind his hand.

"Your defences," Snape continued, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse-" he waved a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony; "-feel the Dementor's Kiss-" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall; "-or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

You really did drown him out this time. Thinking about his wording. To your knowledge, only his followed gave him the name 'the Dark Lord', so why was Snape using that name? You filed away the information as he paced across the classroom.

"....you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, pointledly looking in your direction where your hands stayed glued to your sides, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she stated, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."

The Professor's beady eyes landed on you once more, a challenge present in them.

"Miss Meadow, come up to the front." everyone's eyes were on you as he beckoned you forward, so you obeyed. "I want you to demonstrate this skill. On me." He motioned for you to stand on one side of the room, while he stayed at the other.

You shook off your limps and, using your wand rather than just doing it wandlessly, you shot out a disarming spell, which Snape blocked.

"Good. Now try again." he said as he shot his own disarming spell at you, which you wordlessly blocked with a flick of your wand.

This back and forth continued for five or so more minutes before Snape managed to catch you off guard and disarm you with a minute flick of his wrist.

"Very good. Now following that example, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

People paired off, you choosing to partner with Mione who looked determined to perfect this new skill. Everyone who was part of the DA in the previous year were practically experts at casting spells, but none of them, bar you, could perform the Charms wordlessly. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud, including Ron, which only made you laugh as you watched as Harry blocked his every attack.

Of course, Hermione had gotten the hang of it within ten minutes of practice, as did Theo and Zabini and Riddle. Harry and Ron were still struggling, along with Pansy and Lorenzo.

To say you were bored was an understatement. Snape had already known that you were skilled with wordless and apparently wandless magic too, which meant that he could clearly see into your mind – yet another reason why Riddle needed to teach you control. The only other interesting thing to happen was Harry blatently sassing your Professor, which left you and Hermione gaping and Ron, Dean and Seamus grinning at him.

Once the lesson had ended, Snape in a more abysmal mood than usual after Harry made a fool out of him, you lingered in the corridor, waiting for Riddle to leave so that you could get the interaction over with.

"Hey Meadow! You coming?" Ron asked loudly from the end of the hallway. He looked at you with an odd expression on his face which morphed into unwilling understanding when you felt Theo's presence beside you.

"I'll be there in a bit. I'll meet you in the courtyard." you shout back as you turn towards Theo and his friends.

"Some lesson that was, right tesoro?" Theo asks you as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulder, steering you in the direction of the rest of his group, who were looking between you, Theo and Mattheo with matching expressions on their faces.

"What the hell is she doing here, Nott?" Malfoy asks, looking at you with distain. You glared back at him, about to respond when his familiar deep voice answers instead.

"She's here for me." Riddle says. "Go on ahead. I won't be a moment."

Its Zabini who steers Malfoy away from his glaring contest with you, and Theo who wordlessly wishes you luck with a pat to the top of your head.

"So you're going to teach me control?" you ask as you lean against the nearest wall. He rolls his eyes and wraps a giant hand around your wrist.

"Yes." he hissed. "But not here. How stupid are you? Talking about it out in the open, by a classroom, nonetheless."

Your eyes only widened in mild surprise as he began dragging you down the corridor in the direction that his friends went, but he turned into an empty broom cupboard instead.

"Salazar, if you wanted to get me alone like this there were far better ways of asking Riddle." you say sarcastically, but your eyes show a teasing challenge as you stare up at him.

"Was that an offer, Princess?" he asks with that wicked smirk of his.

"Read the room, Riddle. I'd rather sleep with a troll." you snark.

"Suit yourself." he chuckles before his face sets into that serious look he seems to have mastered in his years at Hogwarts. "The first step to learning full control is learning how to ground yourself."

You look at him expectantly which made him roll is eyes.

"You have to find a happy medium in your head that allows you to keep control of what you don't want people to see, and who you let into your head." he explains motioning to his own head as he speaks.

"So that horrible burning feeling in the back of my skull whenever you get in my head-" you begin.

"Is only there because it lets you know that someone unwanted is using Occlimency on you. The fact that you can't block me out is what we need to work on. Does the same happen with Theodore and Pansy when you communicate with them?"

"No. They're presence is wanted. Yours," you trail your eyes up and down what you can see of his tall frame in the dark, "is not."

"Well until you do accept me in your subconscious, it'll continue to hurt and it'll hurt more when you're trying to block it out." he says and to demonstrate he begins rifling through your thoughts and feelings with little to no effort, that burning sensation appearing like a pinch once again. You cradle you head in your hands, a cry escaping your lips.

Walking to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, anxiety knawing at your insides.

Harry's Malfoy-is-a-death-eater spiel.

Your mini-dual with Snape.

How you want Riddle to rip your clothes right off your body and have him take you-

That wasn't right. You managed to mentally push him right out of your mind with more effort than you reckon it would take for you to haul a quaffle into the goal. It made your head ache.

"What the fuck was that?!" you snap, hitting his arm.

"You're a fast learner. Well done. It takes most people multiple sessions to do what you just did." he looks...proud. It stirs something strange in your gut.

"What did I just do?" you asked, intrigued, scared, confused.

"You just succeeded in blocking me out of your head." he smirked lightly, almost showing a ghost of a smile.

We're going to have lots of fun, Princess.

He was still in your head. His deep voice filling every corner of your mind, but that burning sensation was no longer present. It no longer stung and he was no longer able to rifle through your thoughts. Only converse with you, like you could with Theo and Pansy.

"We'll do this twice a week, until you can block me out without thinking about it." he said as he walked towards the door, leaving you standing motionlessly in the dark.

~∞~

icl the whole plot of this is heavily inspired by my beloved xaden and violet's bond with all their mind talking and arguing🤭🤭 (minus the dragons, etc)

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #professor snape #ravenclaw x slytherin #serendipity series

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cuffmeinblack · 2 months

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2 for andrew or 8 for leander ehehehehehe

Last Chance

Andrew Larson x f!reader

“Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.”

Tags: explicit | drug use | sex | admission of feelings

2k words

A/n: Unexpectedly confident Andrew? Sure, why not. I need to stop writing smut when I'm sick. Thank you for the request m'love <3

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

Quite how you found yourself in the boathouse on the last night of term wasn't clear. It had likely been the only unoccupied place in the entire castle grounds. The astronomy tower had been claimed, as had most of the classrooms and even the greenhouses—a flash of ginger and rustling amongst the dittany had you rushing out of there before you saw anything that would require scrubbing from memory. It was cool despite the hot weather, the spray from the lake soaking every inch of the worn planks underfoot that flexed and creaked with every tentative step. None of this mattered, though, once you met Andrew's warm chestnut eyes that seemed to draw you in, quite literally. He was so close, so warm and solid and tempting. Expectation hung thick in the muggy air despite the very innocent request that you'd prefer to find somewhere quiet to talk, away from the raucous parties within the castle.

When Andrew finally broke the silence it was with small talk. “I can't believe it's really over.”

“I know. It's bittersweet, isn't it?”

You pulled a small tin out of your robe pocket, the Honeydukes logo scratched and worn from years of use. Andrew watched, likely expecting an offer of a sherbet, but inside lay a healthy stash of mallowsweet, already rolled and neatly packed. “Do you want one?” you asked, expecting an emphatic ‘no’ from the straight-laced Ravenclaw, but to your great surprise he nodded. You smiled and offered the tin, his delicate fingers pinching a cigarette and holding it awkwardly as far away from his body as humanly possible. “Would you do the honours?”

Andrew blinked and then withdrew his wand, producing a tiny flickering flame from the tip. The first drag warmed your throat and filled your chest, the potent mallowsweet working wonders to calm your nerves that you knew had everything to do with being here with Andrew. The man himself spluttered a little but got the hang of it after a while. The quietly stifled coughs and the way he tucked his hand under his opposite arm and shuffled about as if he had no idea how to stand was so endearing you might have kissed him then. You'd been saying as such for over a year, and now…now it was too late.

“I didn't think you'd take me up on the offer,” you admitted.

“Well, it is our last night, and I don't know how many opportunities I'll have to do so working for the Ministry.”

“You’re right, my money's on opium.”

Andrew's eyes widened and you chuckled and nudged him playfully.

“Is there anything you'll regret not doing before you leave this place?” he asked, suddenly serious.

You blew a stream of smoke into the air and tossed your stub to the ground where it fizzled, flame dying beneath your boot. The question was innocuous enough, but it was as if he'd read your mind, or perhaps correctly discerned why you both stood in the dank boathouse on a warm Summer's night. The truth had seemed far too risky to speak until now. The friendship you'd cultivated with Andrew was special; a fragile and beautiful thing that you couldn't bear to lose due to one unrequited admission. Besides, he was to relocate to London and you…well, you would be sent wherever Gringotts deemed necessary, tracing old rumours of forgotten treasures. You'd made peace with the fact; the nomadic lifestyle you'd expect from your chosen career path. Until now.

“There is one thing,” you replied vaguely, watching him closely. He leaned back against a wooden pillar and gazed down at the lapping waters that swayed the row boats with a faint and rhythmic clatter. To hell with it. “I regret not asking for more between us.”

He swallowed hard, and exhaled heavily. You weren't sure if he'd expected the answer or not, but either way it had unsettled him. When he looked up through the strands of dislodged ashen hair, your heart momentarily stopped. His pupils were blown, cheeks flushed the softest pink you'd ever seen. Everything around him grew hazy and dreamlike.

“Me too. I've been a bit of a coward, haven't I?”

He stepped closer now, salt spray unable to mask the scent of mallowsweet and patchouli. Maybe a hint of citrus.

“Maybe we both have been.” The mood suddenly shifted from awkward anticipation into something solemn and regretful. It really was too late. “We could have been good together, I think.”

Andrew sighed and slipped a hand around your waist, the movement sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. His nose brushed the tip of yours, lips parted and warm, shuddering breaths mingled for far too long. The tension was unbearable and your fingers were clasped so tightly into the cloth of his shirt it must have strained at the seams. He might have been considering his actions—how wise this was, the pros and cons of giving in, like a truly analytical Ravenclaw—or perhaps he was just too shy to close the distance.

“If you kiss me I don’t think I’ll want to stop,” you muttered. It might have been a warning, or maybe an enticement, but it was the truth. Another sharp inhale and a tighter grip, now Andrew’s lips hovered so close to your own there was barely space between to draw your own breath. There was something distinctly intimate about sharing each other’s air.

“Is that a promise?” His reply sent more than a shiver up your spine—it set your very nerves on fire, insides squirming and tension pooling. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you nodded, practically falling into the kiss that followed. Your back hit a wall soon after in the frantic and desperate entwining of bodies, as if a dam had exploded the moment your lips touched. One more chance to make a memory, one final hurrah. This was setting you up for heartbreak come morning, but none of that mattered now, not in this blissful moment when you finally got the answers to the questions of how Andrew tasted, what his body felt like pressed against you, how he kissed and touched and moaned (delicious, firm, enticingly, possessively, breathily). His mouth was at your throat and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. The way he encircled your waist to hold you in place, the gentle suction at your nape and the leg that slid between your thighs spoke of a confidence and experience you hadn’t expected.

“I can’t stand the thought of anyone else…,” you said before he slid you forward onto his thigh. The friction made you gasp his name, right into his waiting mouth.

“Don’t,” he breathed back.

His body had stilled except for the circles his thumbs pressed into your waist, and then he pulled back just enough to look at you. There was more than friendship, more than lust in that look.

“I wish we had done this last year,” you admitted.

“Would you still have taken the job as a cursebreaker?”

“I don’t know.”

He smiled sadly and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. “If tonight is all we have, let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.”

The words elicited such a visceral reaction you almost whimpered and you pulled him firmly by his shirt to close the distance between you. Your hand found his hair and gripped him tightly, letting the last of your inhibitions melt away with his kiss. Tears of longing fell behind closed lids, the pain of time wasted and what could have been driving you closer. Your fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons, the last two ripped away in a desperate need to feel his skin warm against yours. Andrew had already shrugged off your top layer with deft hands and was exploring the slope between neck and shoulder with his tongue. Words weren’t enough, so instead you concentrated on the frenzied merging of body and soul.

A large hand kneaded your breast as he groaned against your skin, and then you felt the unmistakeable hard length grinding against your hip. His name fell unbidden from your lips in a heady haze of arousal and sweet pleasure. His other hand had found its way between your thighs and was gently caressing the fabric of your undergarments. It wasn’t enough to relieve the throbbing ache, not at all, no matter how much you ground your hips against his fingers.

“Andrew, please...” You pleaded without shame, dipping your hand below the hem of your skirt to pull at your underwear and wriggle free with his help. His hand came back up to meet bare skin, then pressed further to find you wet and quivering.

“Fuck.” The expletive caught you off guard and was as shocking as Andrew having his fingers circling your clit. You let out a shuddering moan of relief as his slick digits began a rhythmic caress. You were vaguely aware of his cock nudging your hip again and his tongue sliding across yours between gasping moans. It was rather sloppy and entirely wonderful. Your fingers managed to unbutton his trousers whilst partially dazed and writhing with the sweet escalation of your climax. You felt the weight of him, his girth filling your hand. Then he let out an absolutely filthy moan once you started to stroke him.

“I need you inside me right now,” you commanded.

His fingers carried on their tight circles as he thrusted into your hand—as if he hadn’t heard you at all—until suddenly the pressure was gone and he retreated. As if he’d slapped you, your mouth fell open in shock and indignation until he spun you around, hands planted firmly against the wall. His cock slid between your cheeks whilst he spread your legs and pressed his chest against your heaving back, kissing every available inch of skin around your neck, jaw, forehead.

You braced yourself as you felt him nudge at your entrance, dripping wet against his twitching cock. Nails scraped the wall and gathered dirt beneath your nails and your head fell back against his shoulder as he pushed inside you. The stretch was gloriously satisfying, and once he’d filled as much as you could take, he turned your head to press his lips to yours. There was no time for second guessing, no question of turning back now.

Stars perforated your vision as soon as he started to move in earnest, withdrawing almost all the way before plunging back inside you, over and over again. He found your breasts again, massaging in time to each roll of his hips. Groans and gasping moans filled the cavernous structure, loud and completely unimpeded. His name, your name, begging for more and harder, faster, until you couldn’t stop the explosion that rattled your brains and turned your body to a limp mess. The orgasm tore through you, only barely aware of Andrew holding your neck as he pounded into you before shuddering and spilling his release, warm and wet and so copious it ran down your thigh. Your hand that looped around the back of his neck kept him close as the last pulses faded away. Not that he seemed interested in going anywhere; he held you tightly and murmured against your skin for quite some time.

It was so perfect you almost wept.

“Ask me to stay,” you said, quite unexpectedly.

A moment passed, silent.

“Stay. Stay with me.”

Perhaps it was the beautiful afterglow but when you looked back at your so-called friend you couldn’t say deny him. The thought of leaving felt unthinkable, the mere suggestion that you go your separate ways and love another was unacceptable. A great lump formed in your throat when you kissed him again, the terrifying truth that he meant more than the career you’d planned for yourself.

“Ask me again in the morning.”

“Will you change your mind before then?” he asked.

“No, but I like the illusion that it’s a hard decision.”

Andrew smiled, his shy demeanour returning despite still being buried inside you. It had started to rain, the gentle patter a soothing backdrop as you both cleaned up and dressed, slowly and with plenty of lingering gazes over one another. You saw warmth and affection reflected in his eyes. As he took your hand without question, you realised it was time to return to the festivities and revel in the fact that the entire trajectory of your life had just changed. Maybe it was reckless, but you supposed some things, some people were worth taking a chance on.

#andrew larson #andrew larson x reader #andrew larson fanfiction

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 year

Text

Leona: Hey, Crowley. I see no point in holding an Orientation if we're just going to receive only one student.

Vil: I agree. And you even made sure that no other students would attend except us housewardens.

Azul: It seems serious since you didn't forget to invite the housewarden of Diasomnia.

Malleus: What's that supposed to mean?

Azul: *clears throat*

Crowley: This is a special case. Apparently, the Ministry of Education has allowed them to study in our school in hopes of learning more about their curse.

Kalim: Wait. Curse?

Idia: Great. I feel like I'm getting this one.

Riddle: Is this curse dangerous to other students?

Crowley: Under certain circumstances, yes.

Leona: And you're putting us in danger. What a great headmage you are.

Crowley: You flatter me.

Leona: ...

Crowley: Anyway, I'll open their gate now.

The housewardens: *noticed him wearing thick gloves and using a crowbar to open the coffin*

Azul: Headmage? Why don't you want to touch their gate?

Crowley: I can't be careless with this.

Azul: ...

Crowley: There. It's been opened up.

The housewardens: *in anticipation*

MC: *sits upright*

Crowley: Good morning, MC. What can you say about the travel?

MC: ...Nothing pleasant.

Vil: Ooh. They have quite a gentle voice.

Crowley: I apologize with that. It's time to meet your schoolmates and upperclassmen.

Malleus: Hmm... They seem familiar.

Kalim: You know them, Malleus?

Malleus: No. But they resemble a family I know.

MC: *has to get out of their own, tripped over in the process*

Leona: Pft—

Riddle: Don't laugh there, Leona. Here, I'll assist yo—

MC: Please don't. I can get up by myself.

Crowley: Keep your distance, Mr. Rosehearts.

Riddle: ... Alright.

Crowley: Kindly proceed to stand in front of the Dark Mirror to see what dorm you're going to be in.

MC: Would that be necessary? I'm only here as a specimen.

Crowley: Please don't say that. You're a student of Night Raven College.

MC: Says the one who tried to flee our residence.

Crowley: ...

Vil: You did what, headmage?

Crowley: Don't mind that.

Crowley: Anyway, we need to proceed with the process of admission. *smiles*

MC: *steps in front*

The Dark Mirror: Reveal the shape of your soul.

MC: ...

The Dark Mirror: *looks horrified* Oh no. Why... Why are you here?

Crowley: Dark Mirror, what dorm is appropriate for them?

The Dark Mirror: Nothing! They should never be close to anyone!

MC: *looks slightly pained with that*

Crowley: *clears throat* Looks like the Dark Mirror is not feeling well today.

Malleus and Idia: ...

Malleus and Idia: I'll take them.

Vil: Wow. You two are volunteering.

Idia: You said this one has a curse. We're the same so maybe we can get along.

Malleus: I have no other reason than thinking the Dark Mirror is being disrespectful.

Riddle: There's no way the Dark Mirror would utter such nonsense.

Azul: Riddle is right. Headmage, what is their curse and why is the Dark Mirror terrified of them?

Crowley: It seems like I have to be honest with all of you...

MC: I'll do it.

MC: *turns to face the housewardens*

MC: My name's MC. And I hold the curse of death's touch.

MC: Me, being the embodiment of demise.

The housewardens: De...mise?

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst riddle #twst azul #twst leona #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleus #twst crowley #embodiment of demise

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sailtomarina · 9 months

Text

Make it right

Draco spat the blood out of his mouth before wiping his chin clean. Shame burned low in his stomach at the reality of it all: his return to Hogwarts after the trial, his sentencing to ten years of Ministry work following graduation, and his inability to defend himself under the strict guidelines of his probation. Each day brought with it new tortures in the form of taunts, hexes, and fists. The worst part was that he didn’t even try to avoid punishment. He chased it the way his friends used to take potions—often, and in great quantities.

Like, for example, today.

He could have walked away the second class ended, made his way back to the castle and the safety of his dorm room. Instead, he’d watched Hagrid saunter off into the Forbidden woods to gather Acromantula venom, gathering his belongings in as slow a manner as possible.

He’d seen the way Finnegan glared at him throughout the entire duration of class, how he’d exchanged whispers and nods with the other wizards near him.

The jelly-legs jinx hit him just as he made to stand with his bag, sending him sprawling face first into the boulder towards which he faced. He’d turned his head just in time to avoid a broken nose, but the impact on his teeth still cut up the inside of his mouth.

“Why didn’t you move, or at the very least, block that?”

He didn’t have to turn around to recognize that voice. It was the voice he heard in his dreams tinted with screams and piss and so much blood.

It was the voice he most desired and feared. Of anyone, she was the one who most deserved justice against him. He wanted her to kick and scream at him, call him all the terrible names he knew fit.

“Because it’s the very least I can offer them.”

She cast the counterspell, and Draco stood to brush the dirt off his clothes, leaving smears in their wake. He could use a charm to vanish the mess, but he hardly ever used magic outside of classes anymore. The weight of his wand felt like clasping the hand of a stranger now, rather than the comforting friend it had always been in the past.

“Scourgify.”

The marks he’d left behind vanished. He turned around to yell at Granger for her meddling and complete lack of self-preservation. The words never left his lips, instead becoming trapped on his tongue as she moved the tip of her wand up to his face without the slightest hesitation. Was this the moment he’d been waiting for?

“Episkey.”

The sharp pain in his cheek faded to nothing, and he probed the spot with his tongue to verify the cuts had healed.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Her actions didn’t make any sense to him. She shouldn’t be here, cleaning him up and casting healing spells.

“Righting a wrong,” she said, her voice calm and steady as if the response was only natural.

“Righting a wrong.”

He couldn’t help but repeat what she’d said, in utter disbelief at the implication. “Are you daft?”

“What’s daft, Malfoy, is you seeking out every single person looking for petty revenge.” Her rebuke was quick, slapping him with her disapproval.

“Finnegan deserves some satisfaction just as much as I deserve punishment,” he choked out. This was the first time he’d dared utter them aloud, even though he’d said them to himself a million times and more. He chanted them, repeated them almost like a prayer each night.

“Looking for pain the way that you are doesn’t make any of it right.” Her gaze, a clear shade of light brown like the honey he stirred into his tea, pierced him straight through. She saw too much.

Then again, she always had.

Trapped under his eyes the way that he was and feeling a rare moment of naked honesty, he again let out more of his true self.

“I don’t know what else to do.”

At that admission, she cocked her head to the side, chewing on her lip like she often did when considering a particularly trying problem. Her brows rose, lighting up as an idea came to mind.

“Catch.”

Not a half second later, her bag was flying towards him. He caught it just before it hit the ground, the weight of the shelf’s-worth of books she must have stuffed into it nearly knocking him on his arse.

“Bloody hell, Granger, this thing must weigh more than a hippogriff,” he grunted, hoisting the bundle more evenly into his arms. She smirked at the gripe, remembering a specific hippogriff and his specific blunder then.

“You’re my study buddy now, and you’ll accompany me to and from class and the library until graduation. Your choice, of course.” Spinning on her heels, she started her ascent back to the castle with the full expectation of his acquiescing to her offer.

Draco’s mind went through a series of mental gymnastics over the turn of events as he watched the distance increasing between them. He could drop her books and go his own way. Malfoys didn’t bow to others.

Unless they were Voldemort.

Or sentenced to Azkaban.

Or…

He could swallow his pride and follow the witch. Maybe she knew the real meaning of justice. Maybe she could help him figure out who he was outside of the family name and the Mark.

His mind made up, he grit his teeth and took the first step towards a future of his own making. He found Granger stopped and facing his way as she waited. The smile that stretched across her face when she noticed him moving hit him as hard, if not harder, than her ridiculous bag.

A smile for him rather than at his expense.

With she the giver and he the recipient, the smile took on a whole new meaning. Perhaps instead of seeking his own pain, he could seek joy for her and, just maybe, for himself.

WC 999

Juuuuuut shy of 1K, let's go!

Twitter prompt from DramionePrompts

#dramione #dramione prompt #draco malfoy x hermione granger #dramione prompts #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #draco malfoy

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simplifiedemotions · 1 year

Text

Who Said That?

You see Hermione Granger in phases.

She’s the girl you learned to hate before you even set eyes on her bushy hair and too-large front teeth. Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood, you think, point, and snarl, and expose the delight of her tears to those around you.

For a moment, this thought: didn’t mother tell you that making a girl cry wasn’t part of a proper Pureblood upbringing?

But then you shake off the feeling, think: Mudblood. She is not the same.

Oh, you will find out how wrong you are in the years to come.

—

Her slap in third year makes you boil with rage.

It isn’t until later, when your hands are shaking and the sting on your cheek blooms red, that you remember the hurt in her fiery brown eyes.

Did you cause that?

Not that it matters, you reassure yourself.

You ignore the twinge of something that feels stupidly like guilt, and go on to tell everyone about the savageness of Muggles.

It’s only right.

Right?

—

Periwinkle blue. A fluttering of dress robes. How could Viktor Krum demean himself so low as to take the girl with filthy Muggle blood to the Yule Ball? Any girl could make a pretty face with the right charms and pouty lipstick. One such girl hangs off your arm at this very moment, though Pansy’s nails are sharp and you can’t help but wince.

You see Granger twirling in your periphery, her entire face lit up in a way you’ve never seen before.

When you see her crying later on the bottom steps of the Great Hall, her makeup splotched and her smile vanished, you think, maybe, that her smile was at least preferable to this look of devastation.

—

You’ve barely looked at anyone this year.

Every time your ribs expand, there is poison being dusted across your bones.

Death Eater. The name finally makes a sort of twisted sense.

—

You confirm her identity in order to protect Potter’s, and bile forces its way up your throat, lines its way on the walls bordering your trachea and sticks there like an old friend.

Later, when the memory of her screams rattles your bones and makes you break out in a cold sweat, your throat refuses to upend itself.

That, too, is a form of guilt.

—

The sickly sour taste remains, as you float through the first half of your eighth year.

She is one of many who stare at you as you wander the castles like a ghost, but it’s only her stare which makes heat creep up your neck.

Unrelenting shame clouds you through most of the year, until you feel sick with it, until your bloodstream is more shame than blood.

Dirty, dirty, blood, but you’re only talking about yourself.

—

You work with her now, as part of your probation. Two years at any Ministry of Magic department willing to take on an almost murderer.

Some twisted sort of faith brought you both here. She’s smiling through a grimace and you stare off at a wall behind her head.

“I know I wouldn’t have been your first choice—” she starts, and you surprise yourself with the bark of laughter you let out.

She’s glaring at you when you meet her eyes.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sure,” she says primly.

“No.” You stand firm, not wanting this to be a rerun of the first eight years you’ve known each other. “I’m just surprised you took me on.” The admission hurts, but pride is no longer a comfort you can afford.

She looks staggered, and you almost want to smile. She’s so expressive, and it’s the first time you don’t feel a pressure rising inside you at the thought that she’s rather pretty.

“Well,” she says after a moment, “shall I explain your position?”

—

It becomes routine, working with the girl who wants to save the world. You expect most of the reason Granger took you on is that no one else will work the mind-numbing hours she does.

That, and she seems to have a knack for taking on broken things.

Of course, you have no choice. You call her an evil little chit, but she only grins.

It only takes the first year: the accidental brush of hands, the way she forces you to eat when at first you only settled for tea, and a persistent Granger-shaped stubbornness, when you realise you’re already half in love with her.

—

It’s eight years of working together with her, when you finally crack. Somehow, it makes sense that you would have to atone for the eight years in which you made the wrong choices. You’re not sure if you believe in balance, or even the thought of your redemption, but you’re a selfish man, and the way Granger looks at you makes you believe in something more.

Even after probation, you stayed on. You became her second-lead for several projects around feature legislation for magical creatures.

It’s this: the way she is clearly jealous when one of the witches at circulation asked if you wanted to go to dinner with her.

(You declined.)

It’s this: the way she snuggles into you when she makes you watch b-rated Muggle films.

(Her warmth is a foreign relief. You don’t deserve to have your arm around her, but you still can’t help but tighten your hold, wanting to make sure she isn’t just a figment of your imagination.)

It’s this: when she comes swerving into your hospital room after you were attacked in Diagon Alley, promising revenge on whoever hurt you.

(A four-year wand probation for the two men who attacked you, and two broken noses.)

“My wand slipped,” she says innocently, and even though it hurts your ribs, you can’t stop laughing.

It’s this: a drunken kiss, started after a drunken fight, when she screamed at you at the top of her lungs about how stupid you were for assuming it was one-sided, and how dare you, how dare you, Draco Malfoy, not notice how she’s felt for so long.

“I’ve waited longer, Granger,” is all you say, as your hands curve around her face.

She smiles. “Who said that?”

In another few years, you’ll tell her about your eight long years of wretched pining, and she’ll admit that her crush on you started back in eighth year, when you were assigned as Potion’s partners and she couldn’t stop staring at your hands.

She always did have to come first in everything.

But, for now: finally, finally, the last scene.

She sighs into your mouth like you're air, and you recoil. You’re air mixed with noxious gas, and you don’t want to hurt her. You’ve hurt her enough.

She opens her arms, and you, you pathetic Draco Malfoy, sink to your knees and‌ press your face into her stomach. Her touch is a balm against you. The softness of her delicate fingers as they weave into your hair.

She is the tremble that makes up your heart.

“Forgive me.”

It’s benediction. It’s you, begging, quite literally, on your knees.

It’s hope then, when she gets to her knees in front of you and gives you a smile.

Yes, you think, as she closes the distance and presses her mouth to yours, as you remember her in fourth year, with a smile lighting up her face.

Her smile is the thing you want most.

#dramione #Dramione fanfic #dhr #dhr fanfiction #Hermione Granger #Draco Malfoy #my writing

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hpsaffics · 7 months

Text

✨ WLW Wed: Ginmione ✨

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

Currently: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley Previously: Teacher/Student (see list)

—

💫 LONG (>10k) 💫

Written in the Body by poetheather [M, 319k]

Being tortured by by Bellatrix changes Hermione in a big way. She decides that no one else is allowed to write her life and is determined to live her life her own way. This includes going after the love of her dreams. Now all she has to do is figure out who they are

Distractions by @morningsound15 [T, 86.7k]

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

Image of You by angelic1_hp [M, 73.3k]

The engagement party of Ron and Hermione is one that Ginny really didn't want to attend. Ginny has tried to lose herself in alcohol, sex and a relationship with a man she could never love until the one she really wants comes back into her life.

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

Ginny doesn't remember giving the reporter the quote, but she's certainly never been one to back away from a challenge. And she's certainly not going to deny that she's in a relationship with Hermione just to make a few bigots feel better about themselves. Or, Ginny accidentally outs Hermione to the whole Wizarding World. Fake dating shenanigans ensue.

The Thing With Feathers by @maraudersaffair [E, 25.4k]

After Ron’s death, Hermione feels adrift with only her books and Ministry job to keep her grounded. This all changes when she accepts an invitation to Ginny’s Quidditch match and catches herself wondering: when did Ginny get so fit?

Gluttony by Ely_Baby [E, 11.2k]

The Second Wizarding War damaged people more deeply than they'd like to believe.

—

💫 MEDIUM (3-10k) 💫

Last Minute Admission by flooj9235 [G, 9.8k]

In the last moments before the Trio heads off to hunt Horcruxes, Hermione takes a moment to tell Ginny something important.

Unexpected Pleasures by kerisempai [M, 7.1k]

A case of mistaken identity leads to questions for Hermione.

Like That by Robyn_Iwanagi [T, 6.5k]

Ginny's never minded sharing a bed with Hermione when she stays over, well, if you don't count that she has a—frankly, massive—crush on her... And she's still got a couple days before the World Cup, and ... She has no idea how she's going to manage. And thats not even getting started on the cuddling.

Five Times Ginny Asked Hermione To Marry Her by icerose92 [T, 5.4k]

It took Ginny a while to get Hermione to agree to marry her.

Wishful Thinking by @owlswithfins [T, 4.2k]

Harry and Hermione are both in love with a Weasley. Like canon, but gayer.

The Witches Are Coming by @neontinkerbell [E, 4.2k]

Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger get their bloody revenge, then they Get Some.

—

💫 SHORT (<3k) 💫

Sneaking by tealeaf523 (ConstantComment) [E, 1.2k]

Hermione and Ginny keep disappearing together; the boys are about to accidentally find out what they've been up to.

Untitled by Anonymous [T, 1.6k]

Ginny is all warmth and strength and movement.

handing you my whole life by @evadwrites [M, 1.0k]

Hermione thinks she’s destined to kneel before Ginevra Potter, always begging for scraps. For years, she will wonder whether Ginny’s willingness to offer them was born out of cruelty or kindness. The question will remain unspoken, unanswered.

The Practical by Jude [M, 285]

Ginny thought everything was going along swimmingly. And then Hermione pulled the book out from under her pillow.

—

🌙 Want more Ginmione? 🌙

Ginmione: Tag on Tumblr | Tag on AO3

WLW Library: Tumblr | Tag | AO3

#hp saffics #hp femslash #hp wlw #ginmione #hermione x ginny #wlw wednesday #wlw library

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azaadsamachar · 2 years

Text

गाजीपुर: अतिरिक्त शुल्क वापसी को लेकर छात्रों का अनिश्चितकालीन धरना जारी

Ghazipur: Students continue indefinite strike for refund of additional fee गाजीपुर(आज़ाद-समाचार)। पीजी कॉलेज के छात्रनेताओं का समूह पूर्वांचल विश्वविद्यालय जौनपुर द्वारा बीए, बीएससी, बीकॉम, बीपीई, प्रथम वर्ष के द्वितीय सेमेस्टर के परीक्षा फार्म में लिए गए अतिरिक्त शुल्क 500 रुपया छात्रों को वापस कराने को लेकर पीजी कॉलेज के छात्र संघ भवन पर अनिश्चितकालीन धरने पर बैठ गया है।सभी छात्रों ने एक स्वर…

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#admission in university & college #Education #Hrd ministry #Purvanchal #strike #uttar pradesh

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extremewritersblock · 1 year

Text

"May I have this dance?”

Another Pretend Date Drabble Because I Have No Self Control

Hermione x Draco (x Ron)

Warnings: bittersweet story/not exactly a HEA/pining Draco

“Decided to go stag again, I see?”

Draco, who had been slumped quite unattractively in his chair, turned from his table to see Granger approaching, taking confident strides across the Ballroom.

Typical of her to catch him in his most unsightly moments. He stood from his seat, bringing his glass of firewhisky with him.

“Of course,” he said, holding the drink to his chest in an attempt to make himself seem more aloof, “You wouldn’t believe the number of women I had to turn down just to come to this thing alone.”

He took in the sight of his coworker - for whom he had not been waiting, honestly - and in response, promptly shut his jaw which had boldly dropped open, like an admission to the entire assembly of Ministry personnel here that he had feelings for Hermione Granger.

Which he did not.

Tonight, Granger wore a dress of - well Draco wasn’t entirely certain of the color, though it looked to be some hybrid of blue and purple - that pooled at the floor and accentuated her - assets. Thin, flowy sleeves fell off her shoulders, exposing the entirety of her neck, all the way down to the peak of her chest, where he willed his eyes to avoid lingering, despite it being strenuously difficult.

Which was a naturally male reaction to all women, present company included.

Her hair was up in a sort of bun, with a few curls left out near her face - surely to act as a distraction from the cleavage - and she wore a smile that could’ve ignited every candle in the room.

He means that in a not at all romantic.. platonic sort of way.

Granger smiled at him and gestured to his glass. “Which drink are you on?”

He raised it. “Still nursing my first.” He knocked back another gulp, probably so that he wouldn’t mention the - chestiness - of her gown.

She tutted, mockingly. “You’re behind on your usual quota.”

“Ah,” Draco sighed jokingly, grinning like a fool, no doubt, “but the night is still young.”

“Hermione Granger!” called a grating voice from a few tables over. There, with her terribly blonde hair and her heavily jeweled spectacles, was disgraced journalist Rita Skeeter saying her goodbyes to the straggly looking wizard she’d been talking to.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Granger groaned. “She wasn’t supposed to be attending tonight!”

She ducked behind him, but Draco was confident that Granger had studied enough about basic Mathematics and surface area to realize he could not properly hide her.

“Why does it matter if she comes to talk to you? You’re the most - scandal-less person I know.”

“I’m dateless,” Granger said. “That’s newsworthy enough for the likes of Rita Skeeter.”

Draco failed to hide his surprise. “You’re - not here with anyone, tonight?”

“Ron was my date.” She ditched her effort to hide and came to stand beside him, playing absently with the fabric of her dress. “Before we - well, I’m sure you know -” Her gaze dropped to the floor.

Draco didn’t know, not directly, but he’d heard about their breakup through the usual office gossip. He hadn’t believed it, though - office hearsay was often largely false, or either very far removed from the full truth.

Apparently, this rumor just so happened to be true.

Granger was single.

Draco filed away his feelings of elation for later consideration because the sadness causing Granger’s eyes to tinge red suddenly had Draco clenching his fists and eager to punch a Weasley.

“What does it matter that you’re here alone?” he asked. “There are plenty of people here without dates.” It was after speaking the last syllable of this sentence that Draco epiphanized that, perhaps, he’s not so good at offering condolences.

“Have you read the Daily Prophet lately?" He hadn’t, but he knew, these days, it was plagued with fabricated stories about Potter and his gang of friends. “These reporters are all looking for their next story. My being here without Ron is front page news,” she finished in a huff.

Suddenly, Draco had a most brilliant idea as to how he could help her.

“If you think she’ll make your,” careful, Draco, be sensitive, “situation into tomorrow’s headline, then just tell her I’m your date.” He added a shrug for extra aloofness.

However, whenever Granger snorted at this idea, he felt slightly less inclined to help her.

"Hermione!” the blonde reporter said again, this time close enough to reach out her hands and pull Granger into an air kiss on either cheek.

“Rita.” Hermione returned the greeting with significantly less enthusiasm. “I’d heard you couldn’t make it tonight.”

Draco, effectively invisible in the sights of Rita Skeeter, finished the last dribs of his firewhisky and placed the empty glass onto his table.

“Where’s Mr. Weasley? Off to fetch you a glass of this,” Rita hiccuped, “decadent chardonnay, I hope?”

Draco glanced up from the table to see Granger with her head bowed and her cheeks a very telling shade of pink.

Rita Skeeter obviously noticed it, too.

“Oh? No Mr. Weasley tonight? I do hope everything’s alright between the two of you?” Though the reporter’s voice feigned sympathy, her eyes glistened like she’d just struck gold.

“I - we’re just -” Hermione stuttered.

In an act of panic, or otherwise a dire need to prevent Granger from all forms of sadness, Draco walked back to the women and daringly wrapped his arm around Granger’s waist. He quickly found out that her gown was backless as his hand rested, frozen, on bare skin just above her waist.

“Actually, Ms. Skeeter, I’ve been bestowed the honor of escorting Ms. Granger this evening.” Hermione’s head snapped to look at him, whether about his hand placement or his words, he wasn’t sure.

As if a cloak of invisibility had just lifted off of him, Rita regarded Draco for the first time, with more - joy than he had been expecting.

“Draco Malfoy,” he too was pulled and forcefully air kissed, “as I live and breathe. Lots of tragic family history in recent years. Mind if I,” a levitating quill and notepad materialized, “ask you a few questions about that?”

“As tempting as that sounds, Ms. Granger here was just in the middle of accepting my invitation to dance.” He looked at Granger expectantly.

“I was?” Granger asked.

“You were?” Rita looked back and forth between the two.

“I - I was,” she confirmed.

“Oh, to be young again.” Rita wiped away a nonexistent tear from underneath her spectacles and vanished her quill and notepad. “Do be sure to find me again when you’re done? We have so much to catch up on.” And with a newly emptied glass of chardonnay, Rita Skeeter sauntered away, towards the bar, most likely.

“Bestowed the honor?” Hermione taunted, looking up at him.

“What? I was trying to sell it.” Draco shrugged. He began to walk them away from their table, far away from the bar, his arm still sitting comfortably on her waist.

Granger sighed deeply. “I think we might’ve given her a different headline to publish.”

“Does she always corner you at Ministry events like this?”

”Usually. She’s been trying to catch me in a scandal for years. My theory is that she’s still miffed about the whole...jar incident.”

Draco perched an eyebrow. “Jar incident?”

Granger paused her steps, looking sheepish, like she’d said something she wasn’t supposed to have said.

“I - may or may not have trapped her in a jar when she was in her animagus state. During our fourth year.”

“You what?”

She fluffed the skirt of her gown before crossing her arms, staring at the back of Ms. Skeeter with a grimace that was unique to only Granger.

“She deserved it. I try to mention it every time we meet, though it’s become less potent over the years, unfortunately.”

“And here I thought she was about to make you cry.”

“Cry? I was trying to think of a legal hex I could use but nothing came to mind.”

“You’re merciless.”

“I had even prepared a joke for her this time. It was going to be hilarious.”

“Indulge me.” He started their walk again.

“I was,” her mouth curved upwards as she brought a hand to her lips to stifle the laugh already bubbling up. “I was going to ask her if she’d - if she’d caught the stomach bug.” Hermione had barely finished the last word before the laugh burst from her lips.

Draco smiled too, merely in pity at her horrifically bad joke.

“I’ll believe that joke hits harder when one has consumed more than a single glass of fire whisky.”

As though she’d just realized Draco still had his arm around her, Granger laughed softly, “She’s gone now. You don’t have to put up the act anymore.”

“On the contrary, Granger, my services have not yet been completed. As your pretend date, I not only stave away unwanted journalists, but I also offer one uninterrupted dance. Free of charge.” He stepped back, letting his hand glide across her waist as she left his hold, then held out his arm to her. “May I have this dance?”

She pretended to take a moment to contemplate his offer, leaving him waiting just a moment longer than awkward.

“Well,” she said, finally, “if it’s free.” Granger grinned that candle igniting grin, sliding her arm through his and he walked her the short distance to the dance floor.

The light fragments from the floating chandelier made the stone flooring look like stained glass under their feet. The song playing was slow in tempo. Granger’s eyes grew slightly wider in panic.

“Oh I don’t actually know how to slow dance - ”

Draco fixed his expression in mock surprise. “You mean the incredible Viktor Krum didn’t slow dance with you all those years ago?”

He pulled Granger into him, holding up his other hand in a waltz pose. She positioned her hands reluctantly, one around his waist and the other clasping the hand he held out to the side.

“I was fifteen! What we did was less of a dance and more of a shuffle -”

He tightened his grasp on her waist. “Don’t worry, Granger. Just follow me. I’ll show you what to do. Just try to keep your toes touching mine.”

She nodded, glanced down once at her feet, and they were off.

Without taking his eyes off of her, Draco moved backwards, slowly enough that she could anticipate his step easily. And again stepped to the side, making sure she understood which steps he wanted to follow. And again.

Step, 2, 3. Step, 2, 3.

“Am I doing it right?”

“You’re a natural.” He chuckled in a way only Granger could make him. “Though, believe it or not, it would be easier for you if you weren’t staring at your feet the entire time.”

“Where am I supposed to look?”

“Look at me.”

She did and he was suddenly fifteen again, but this time, he’d asked Granger to the Yule Ball like he’d wanted to.

And she’d said yes.

After a short time like this, slow and steady, Granger became comfortable enough in her steps that he felt the tension leave her body. She became lax in his arms, letting herself enjoy being spun around the room. Draco, too, began to relax into their dance, snaking his arm further around Granger’s body. He felt where the fabric stopped at her lower back and let his fingers rest there again. She didn’t oppose.

He was surprised at how easily she let him lead her around the dance floor. There must be many more competent dancers here than he, yet here she was, dancing with him. They twirled around the room, concerned about nothing but themselves and the placement of their feet.

At some point, her cheek fell onto his shoulder. He rested his head on hers.

She didn’t oppose.

Time felt infinite, the room empty except for the warm body in his arms. He lost count of how many rounds they’d traveled around the floor until the song - too soon - came to a close. As the band issued the final notes of their song, Draco coaxed Granger into a dip. Her head fell back in laughter, a sound better than the music they’d just danced to.

Basking in the euphoria of their dance, they left the dance floor with full smiles and chests heaving.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked, bringing a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her breathing.

“Years of suffering through parties at the Manor had me learning how to dance. To avoid the dull, aristocratic conversation, of course.”

“Mm,” Hermione nodded. “A smart divergence.”

Her smile froze as she became lost to something behind him. The curves of her lips drew downward and her soft expression hardened. He followed her gaze to see a red-haired man standing at the entrance of the room.

Weasley. What impeccable timing.

The look on Ron’s face was stoic, forlorn, as if he’d been the one abandoned by Granger tonight instead of the other way around. The git had the audacity to beckon to her before taking a step back and disappearing again through the heavy doors.

“I should go talk to him,” she said slowly, almost like a question, as if she weren’t sure that was the right decision. Draco’s mouth opened to protest, to tell her to ditch Weasley and dance with him again, but there was a sadness in her eyes, true sadness this time, that brought his lips together, thin lined.

Granger began to walk away from him before she turned back to say, “Thanks, Malfoy. For the dance. For Rita.” She placed a hand on his arm.

He nodded through the inexplicable tightening in his chest. “You owe me, Granger. The dance may have been free, but I insist on some form of repayment for getting rid of Skeeter.” He meant his taunting to sound light, but a heaviness to his tone caused his joke to fall a little flat.

Still yet, Hermione humored him.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, a ghost of her earlier smile returning to her lips. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” She bunched the fabric of her gown in her hands, so as to not trip over it in her exit. He watched her dress billow behind her, a blur of blue and purple, as she followed Weasley out of the room.

Whatever you want, it’s yours.

Draco had never heard words so devastatingly false.

#dramione #dramione drabble #Draco x hermione #Draco malfoy #Hermione granger #ron weasley #dramione fic #dramione fanfic #pretend date #drabble #harry potter #dhr #dhr drabble

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legacygirlingreen · 1 year

Text

Christmas with the Sallow Family: Chapter 2 Admissions // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary:

Sebastian’s world majorly shifts as he finally realizes that the girl he cares for isn’t always going to be safe from danger.

Notes:

I’m back! And for those who were ever so patient and kind I am posting a second chapter very shortly after this so stay tuned… I apologize if anyone hates angst or injury, but we couldn’t move through the story sunshine and rainbows all the time. I promise once you make it past the bump in the road it’s worth it… We are slowly starting to see Sebastian loose his concerns over propriety…

So this is your warning now: There are mentions of blood and injury. Mentions of minor abuse. Brief mentions of nudity as well.

Word Count: 9,500 +

Also a reminder this is part of a larger work, previous part found here: https://www.tumblr.com/legacygirlingreen/712553086792712192/christmas-with-the-sallow-family-chapter-1

It had been a few days since the night where Sebastian and and the girl shared their first real kiss. For the most part they had kept things as light as possible, with a few brief stolen moments when they found themselves alone - regrettably due to Solomon those moments being few and far between. Their days had been filled with Sebastian being forced to help Solomon outside with physical labor, while Ominis stayed indoors to attend to Anne. As for the new student, she spent most of the day studying up on things she had missed during their first 4 years at hogwarts and keeping Anne from becoming lonely.

A few days into their holiday Professor Fig sent word, asking her to meet him at a ruin off the coast not far from Feldcroft. While it took some explaining to Solomon that they girl needed to briefly depart for an important task with one of the professors, he reluctantly relented. Solomon half expected the whole thing to be a ploy from his nephew to get the young girl alone without his watchful eye, but when he saw the letter with official seals from the school he understood they could not forge such a document. He had heard rumors that the girl had abilities beyond even the strongest witches and wizards working at the ministry, however he had yet to see such power demonstrated in his home.

It was difficult to watch her leave, but Sebastian had grown acclimated to her missions with the professor. While Fig’s note was not very revealing if there would be danger, the sinking feeling in his stomach lead to him holding her tighter than normal, as well as press a longer kiss between her eyebrows not caring about Solomon’s presence witnessing him do so. He expected an earful at her departure, however had yet to receive one.

Solomon noticed the way Sebastian kept moving about their small farm with anxiety and worry for the girl, deciding that while his nephew’s actions that morning toed the line of improper, in some small way may have been warranted. It didn’t take a genius to see how much the young woman had grown such importance to him in the brief amount of time they had been in each other’s lives. It was almost astounding how much they seemed to have a deep rooted respect and admiration within the few months she had been at Hogwarts. Some of the best divination seekers often spoke about the way some peoples lives were inherently destined to be intertwined, an instinctual bond easily forming. Solomon wondered if his nephew was one of those rare and deeply fortunate wizards to have discovered his perfect match at all, let alone at such a young age…

The sun was just starting its decent from the sky, when Sebastian began to truly worry. Without the girl around, his uncle had not said anything as Sebastian removed his shirt at the intensity of the labor. His shoulders slowly had grown covered in dirt and sweat at the day’s work. He was finishing up repairing their stone fences with Solomon when a loud crack and feminine scream sounded the air. Not far from the side of the house stood Professor Fig, with her ashen looking frame thrown over his shoulder as she clutched her blooded side. Her hair tumbling from its braid, and the dark clothes she must’ve changed into after leaving, looked even darker around the area she was clutching.

Sebastian hadn’t even heard his uncle yelling at him to grab his shirt before he was running towards the professor and the girl. His long legs broke into a fast stride as he quickly vaulted over the stone wall and launched himself towards Fig. He could have cared less at his disheveled and dirty appearance nor the mouthful he was destined to receive for his lack of dress.

Sebastian quickly made his way around her body, helping Fig as her weight was slowly starting to become a bit much for the older man.

“We ran into some trouble with some of Ranrok’s loyalists along the coast. Usually it’s not a problem but I became cornered and she jumped in front of me before I could stop her…” Fig tried to explain to Sebastian as he pulled her into his side. She shifted in pain, more color draining from her face as he imagined the blood loss to be starting to set in.

Solomon finally had caught up, having started off on Sebastian’s heels as he did not want the boy showing his bare chest for the young woman to see. As his stern eyes made out his nephew holding the girl, who’s wound seemed worse for ware, he softened his gaze. Sebastian looked frantically, examining her face as she was still struggling to keep herself from crying out again. The girl had strength he would allow her that. Her eyes slowly rolled back in her head as Sebastian held her face in his dirt covered hands.

Solomon tossed the boy’s discarded shirt at him, as Sebastian pressed it to her abdomen in an attempt to slow the bleeding. “Quickly, get her inside” he found himself ushering them all towards the house, his old habits as an Auror rising to the surface.

She stumbled against Sebastian’s side, as his height stretched her torso more than Fig’s had. She struggled to keep herself upright and in a moment of quick thinking, Sebastian briefly stopped. He quickly scooped her up underneath her bent knees to carry her bridal style towards the family home. With her good arm still wrapped around his neck, and her face now coming to rest against his collar bones he found some solace as her breath fell on his bare chest. She mumbled something against his skin, yet in his hast he hadn’t been able to make out what she had said.

“Just hold on, I’ve got you” he said softly, briefly allowing himself to look into her eyes as he moved as fast as his legs could carry him towards the Sallow home.

Anne and Ominis quickly split apart from where they had both been sitting next to each other when Sebastian bust in the door. At first the pair was scared they had been caught, but as Anne’s eyes landed on how Sebastian was holding her and the way he had been moving with haste, she grabbed Ominis off the bed and pulled him into the corner.

Fig and Solomon rushed in behind the boy, as he slowly lowered the young woman onto one of the beds inside. Solomon quickly began rushing around, trying to find some of the medical supplies he kept in the cottage as Fig made his way to the girls side. Sebastian was still next to her, holding his now stained shirt tightly to the wound as his other hand attempted to brush the loose strands of hair off her sweat soaked forehead. She let out a loud gasp for air as her wild eyes settled on his deeply concerned brown ones.

“ Seb-“ she tried to speak to him, but as the air was slowly proving difficult to enter her lungs she struggled.

Anne began to shout, asking what had happened when Solomon loudly roared amongst the chaos for Ominis to remove his niece from the scene. Ominis, quickly obliged, having to forcefully drag the sickly girl from site. The boy, while confused at the extent of the circumstances due to his lack of vision, could tell from the shouts alone something was deeply wrong. Anne’s last look into the home before Ominis forced her into the slowly chilling air was her twin brother’s face as his eyes wide with fear glanced from her own back down at the girl.

“I tried to use a healing charm but the wound was too deep. Wiggenweld is not going to be strong enough for this.” Fig said, as he knelt next to Sebastian, explaining his attempts at helping the girl before apparating away from the scene.

“I wanted to take her back to Hogwarts but she demanded I bring her here.” Fig continued his explanation for the girls fragile state as Solomon made quick work at the potions table in the corner of their home.

It pained Sebastian to see her in such as state. Her mumbling slowly was turning incoherent and her body was slowly beginning to shake under his hands.

“I need to see what kind of wound I am dealing with to know how to treat her” Solomon called out, rushing over to where they all leaned over her mangled body. Fig quickly nodded, grabbing his wand to aid the former Auror. Sebastian removed his shirt from her gash and set out to start undoing the buttons of her vest when Solomon slapped his hands on top of the boys. The pair of hands landed onto her chest with a violence smack and she screamed out, eyes flying open at the contact.

Her scream caused him to jolt violently as he reared back at Solomon shouting “What is wrong with you?!” Sebastian could have cared less at his uncles use of force against him, but the unintended consequences of hurting his beloved was enough to make him want to bring fists upon the older man’s face.

“Boy, I will not be having you use this as an excuse to undress that girl, join your sister outside.” Solomon said the venom dripping from his words as Sebastian’s eyes flared with all the anger in his body.

“I am not leaving her side.” Sebastian abruptly stood, eyes mere inches from Solomon’s as he shouted back at his uncle with enough force to shake the house.

“You most certainly will. I will not stand by as you disgrace this girl more than you most likely already have.” Solomon boomed back.

The words hit Sebastian like a slap to the face. He immediately saw red. Fig quickly found himself in the midst of a screaming match between the young man and his uncle as his young companion was bleeding out. As the two argued he slowly set out to make work of the clothing that was stuck to her wound. He cut away enough of her linen top to both maintain modesty and allow them to see the damage the Goblin’s sword had infringed upon the girl. The professor watched as y/n’s eyes cracked, and her hand slowly inched back towards the young boy trying to reach for him. He took that as his moment to cut in between the two screaming men.

“I hardly believe this is the time for such an argument. Sebastian please aid in keeping our friend distracted as I imagine given the nature of her injuries, treatment may provide painful. Mr. Sallow, I believe that she has taken damage to her lungs and is slowly starting to struggle with breathing. If you could assist me in repairing the damage.”

Sebastian’s eyes quickly snapped back to her at Fig’s wise words attempting to defuse the situation. He found himself nodding at the man’s suggestions before retaking his spot next to the wounded girl. Until this moment he had been unable to dwell on the situation, his body reacting in an attempt to keep her calm. As she continued to struggle to breathe, and more blood spilled onto the bed, the direness unfolding finally hit him.

Suddenly Sebastian was holding Anne in his arms after she had been cursed. His then smaller and weaker arms struggled to carry her down the hill as she screamed in pain. The smell of smoke in the air and the yelling of his neighbors defending the town against attack clouded his senses. His sister slowly slipped from his grasp in the cold night air of Feldcroft as he yelled for help.

Sebastian was much younger, in his parents basement as their bodies lay cold on the floor. He kept pulling at his mother’s arm, trying to get her to wake up, but she did not move. He begged her to hold him, to muse his hair, to look at him. Again he tried to lift her, only to have her arm fall to the ground, limp.

He refused to loose her in the same way .

Sebastian had not realized that his inability to breathe was coming from the sob he had been choking back. He leaned his forehead to her shoulder and violently shook as his uncle and the teacher rushed about, trying to produce a potion that would be able to save the girl. Solomon briefly became distracted from trying to find some ashwinder eggs when he heard the gut wrenching sob leave his nephew, who was leaning over the injured girl as his whole body violently started shaking. Solomon worked faster in an attempt to calm the storm brewing under his roof, for the girls sake but also Sebastian’s. There was a reason he didn’t want his Nephew having to see something so violent.

Only after the sound, similar to a wounded animal, had left the young man did he feel a faint hand against the back of his skull. Feather like fingers brushed the soft tips of his hair before falling away again as she gasp out again in pain.

Fig made quick work of assisting the older Sallow in concocting whatever potion the former Auror thought to be the best option in the circumstance. He glanced back at his companion as her eyes were closed and her eyebrows scrunched in pain. The professor noted the way the young man clutched her small hand in his, pressing his lips against the blood stained skin as he whispered softly against the back of her hand.

Sebastian attempted to smooth out the wrinkle in her brow as he attempted to control his own fear. He needed to remain strong for her sake. He still found it difficult seeing so much color having left her skin. It reminded him too much of his mother and Anne. He would’ve given anything to return the usual rose tint of her cheeks back.

She opened her eyes slowly, trying to find Sebastian in the haste. His cheeks had been stained with a tear and she had heard the sob he let out at her own expense. She hated knowing that it was her causing him such anguish. While the pain coursing her veins was unbearable - the Goblin’s enchanted blade having cut deep into her skin - her concern for the young man was stronger than worry for her own safety. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek, carefully brushing the tear from his face, before it abruptly fell back to the bed as the pain became too much to bear.

Fig rushed over to the pair, now holding the vile Solomon and thrust into his hands seconds before. “Quickly, help raise her head” he shouted at Sebastian as Solomon made quick work finally examining the wound. Sebastian brushed her hair back one more time, before helping Fig lift her head.

“She needs to drink it before I can close the wound” Solomon said to his nephew, who simply nodded taking the bottle in his hands. He carefully held it to her lips helping the girl ease the potion down her throat. He removed the bottle when he was sure she had swallowed the last of it. A small drop lingered at the corner of her lips, and slipped down her chin before he wiped it away with his thumb.

“Now what?” Sebastian said, noticing that while her breathing was slowly becoming more steady, she remained in discomfort and the cut along her stomach remained open and bleeding.

“You both need to hold her down” Solomon said before he turned his wand to her wound. The moment he started using charms to close the cut, she started screaming. She pushed back against Sebastian’s firm grasp, who was attempting to both sooth her, and hold her to the bed. Eventually the bleeding stopped and Solomon returned to standing at the foot of her bed.

Sebastian allowed his grasp to relax as she slowly leaned into the bed, letting out a small relieved sigh. Covered in blood, sweat and tears she laid in the bed looking like a rag doll.

Fig turned towards the older man, beckoning him outside as Sebastian slowly allowed his hand to trace patterns along the sides of her face and neck. He let his other hand drift towards her right hand, holding it tightly in his own. He thanked Merlin and whatever God must exist for allowing her to skirt death in their living room.

The girl, havinf finally come down from the pain enough to properly process the world around her in more than just rushed glimpses, attempted to properly speak to him.

“Sebastian” she finally was able to make out his name, and while deeply traumatized but the events of the evening, the sound still made his heart soar at how she always spoke the name his parents had given him unlike anyone else on the planet.

“I’m right here, I didn’t leave you. I won’t leave you.” His words came flying out and he wasn’t sure if it was from his own fear of watching her struggle, or that he was concerned for her panic, but he felt the need to remind them both how lucky they were.

His kind eyes returned to her limited field of vision as she lightly squeezed his palm. A small smile worked its way onto her face as she said “water.”

He quickly jumped up, rushing around to find the small basin usually in their kitchen along with a tankard and a rag, before making his way back to her. He could hear his Uncle’s and the Professor’s muffled voices outside but for the moment he couldn’t care less what his guardian or the teacher were saying.

As he eased himself onto the bed next to her, he slowly brought the cup to her lips, helping her as she drank the much needed liquid. When she was finished he removed the tankard from her hands and soaked the cloth in the basin before bringing it to slowly start washing the mess from her skin.

She slowly let her eyes close as the man washed away the traces of tears, sweat, grime and blood from her face. She hummed as his movements were gentle. Sebastian made the conscious effort to cover her bare skin, still with a lingering mark from the gash, in case others returned. Instead he focused on cleaning her hands and face. It wasn’t long before the whole group, Anne and Ominis included, made their way back inside.

Anne immediately rushed to her new friend’s side as Sebastian stood to allow his twin space to sit. He had worried that the strife would cause Anne unnecessary anguish, however she appeared fine, as she collected the girls hands in her own. Deciding to give them space, he moved towards Ominis in an attempt to give the concerned boy insight as he couldn’t exactly see all that had happened.

“Is she alright?” Ominis inquired, trying to get a better grasp of the situation.

“She will be alright. Those goblins did a number on her though.” He said, venom in his words at the thought of Goblins taking not only his sister from him, but also the woman he loved.

Ominis was unsure how to proceed. The events of the evening had sent him into a frenzy as Anne was beside herself with worry at the screams coming from in the house. While the panic seemed to have only lasted briefly it was enough to shake them all to the core. He had heard Sebastian and Solomon shouting at each other as the young Slytherin girl let out the most torturous sounds. Ominis half wondered if she had been hit by an especially powerful crutio given how violently she was reacting. Sebastian felt his friend’s clammy hand on his shoulder.

“Are you not wearing a shirt Sebastian?” Ominis asked in disbelief. Sebastian let out a small chuckle, remembering he had tossed it aside when they made it indoors as it was covered in blood.

Professor Fig made way towards the group of teens. The look in the older mans eyes was sorrowful. “I apologize for returning her in such a state Mr. Sallow. I made you promise to keep an eye on her, however I failed to do the same. I know you care deeply for my young prodigy. I have full confidence you will take good care of her until we return to Hogwarts.”

Sebastian was stunned at the mans words. He hadn’t felt any anger towards the man, understanding that her own selfless nature was the reason they ended up in the situation, not neglect on Fig’s. Sebastian had witnessed it in the troll attack, in moments they stumbled upon groups of Goblins or when they fell into a spider’s den. She was always the first to push him out of harms way before throwing her ancient magic at whatever foe opposed them.

“I will guard her with my life , sir” he said holding out a hand for the Professor.

“You are an honorable young man Mr. Sallow.” Fig responded, shaking Sebastian’s hand before moving to speak with her.

She allowed Anne to examine the growing scar on her abdomen as her breathing was slowly returning to normal. While she was severely uncomfortable at the sweat and blood soaked clothing she laid in, she considered the fact she was still breathing to be a notable exchange for discomfort. Fig came to stand behind Anne as Solomon called his niece, nephew and the Gaunt boy out to allow them privacy. In speaking to the Hogwarts faculty he was informed both of the young woman’s ability and her selfless act - something the retired Auror respected and realized needed protection that was beyond what even Fig could provide.

Fig sat along the bed next to her as he tried not to look at the young woman. The blood surrounded her reminded him of the guilt he had been carrying from the moment she had called out as the goblin’s blade pierced her skin. He tried to get her to proper medical care, but her strong insistence on getting back to the Sallow boy made him decide her wishes were more important given she had taken a stab meant for him. He felt bad barging into the small Scottish Hamlet with an injured teenage, but in some small way he knew her instance on keeping her ability to a closed community of those she trusted to have been a wise decision. After all, a former Auror would most likely be able to fix battle damage more than a school nurse who’s worst injuries often included upset stomachs.

“I wasn’t expecting a Goblin to pack such a mean swing there” she said, attempting to break the awkward looming in the air.

“Thank you, my young friend” Fig found himself earnestly thanking the girl.

“Thank you for bringing me here and not to nurse Blainey. That woman has the largest stick up her arse I swear to Merlin. Well, second largest stick behind Madam Scibner.” she said slightly coughing as she chuckled.

“The Sallow boy, he seemed quite distraught for a moment there.” Fig responded. While he wanted to bring her to the school matron or St. Mungos he understood why she wanted to be close to those she cared for.

“He lost his parents and now Anne is also unwell. I feel bad about causing him anguish, but a selfish part of me wanted to be able to say goodbye had things…” she trailed off trying not to think of what would have happened.

“I see you have grown to carry a strong flame for young Sallow since school began. Should I… owl your family on the matter or do you intent to inform them of this…” Fig was unsure what exactly the girl and Sebastian were in terms of titles.

“My family is aware that I have started courting a young wizard from school, and while they are disappointed it is unsafe to visit during the holidays, they trust my judgments”. She had informed her mother of her growing interests back when she initially started harboring a flame for the boy after the day in Hogsmeade. Her mother, who had already begun the search for a proper suitor in the muggle world was delighted knowing that she could discontinue that search.

Fig was almost taken aback by knowing his companion and the dark haired Slytherin boy were allowing their affections to move so quickly, yet when he thought back to how impatient himself and Miriam had been at that age he understood their urgency…

“Mr. Sallow is a strong young wizard, he shall continue to help push you in your studies I presume... I am glad you have found such a companion at Hogwarts.” Fig smiled, knowing that in the few months she had been at the school, her life had become filled with much danger and expectations that would crack a normal person under pressure. It made him glad to know that she had someone who could look after her well being, and be there at the end of the days to make sure the human parts of her would remain in order.

“I shall let you rest, I look forward to seeing you both return to Hogwarts in January. Take care my young friend”. With that Fig stood abruptly and left the cottage, bidding a quick goodbye to the Sallow family as he departed the town. He tried not to notice the way Sebastian’s eyes were trained on the ground, glassed over or the way Solomon’s face was burning red. Fig decided to table the words he heard as he walked through the door to leave the hamlet. He should speak with Assistant Head Matron Weasley upon his return to Hogwarts about the boys current living conditions…

Solomon escorted the young adults back inside and noted how the young girl was attempting to stand on her own. She still looked dreadful covered in the grime and blood of the day. While they had managed to heal the major injury she suffered, she still had smaller ones to attend to. He sighed, pulling his nephew’s shoulder in an attempt to stop him before Sebastian was able to cross the threshold of the living space back to her. The words that had been exchanged between them outside still rung in his ears.

“I have half a sense to make you pen the girls father asking permission to move forward with an engagement, as I cannot trust you to maintain propriety given what I have witnessed today.” Solomon spoke quickly as he shoved Sebastian roughly against the side of the house after their departure to allow the professor and her a moment of privacy.

Anne let out a small gasp at Solomon’s roughness towards her brother, but Ominis moved between them, attempting to shield her from having to see the extent of their conversation. He took out his wand, casting a simple “Silenco” charm on the pair both for Anne’s sake and for the girls sake indoors. The young Gaunt boy knew how the men were constantly at each other’s throats, and today had proved to have enough tension, without an argument between the Sallow men.

Sebastian swallowed hard at his uncles demands, feeling as the stone stung into his still bare back and his uncles hands left what he imagined would turn to bruises on his chest. Before he could get a word out Solomon continued to yell at him.

“You deliberately disobeyed me, staying in such an improper state next to that girl. I am your guardian, you do as I say, no matter the circumstances. You truly are your father’s son. How much longer before she too ends up at our doorstep unwed and with child like your mothe-“

Sebastian felt the angry tears already pooling in his eyes at the mention of his father, but when Solomon spoke with such degradation towards his mother and y/n he snapped. It was then he finally realized that Solomon no longer stood a head taller than him. His brown eyes looked into his Uncles and he pushed the man’s hands off his chest, taking a step forward. A eerie calm in his voice as he strongly spoke back to his guardian. “You will not speak that way about my mother.”

The edge in his tone paired with the chilling calm in his demeanor almost startled Solomon, as he realized his nephew was threatening him at the poor mentioning of Twin’s mother. Sebastian stood taller as he had taken a step towards the man and Solomon realized he was taking a stance on this issue in ways he had never seen from the young man.

“I will not allow you to make the same mistakes as your father.” Solomon fired back, his tone slightly softening despite him taking a step closer.

“I. Am. Not. A. Mistake.” Sebastian shouted into the night. He reached his hand up to his neck and clutched at his hair almost violently. He had listened to several years of his Uncle’s claims that their parents accidental fall from propriety into love, before they could be wed was what ruined the Sallow family name. He was reminded of how his mere existence continued to be a symbol of all his uncle hated in his father. He was done listening.

Anne watched in horror as Sebastian fought hard against the anger, sorrow and other surging emotions to keep himself upright. He maintained his composure the best he could. While she was unable to hear what they were arguing over due to Ominis’s charm she could tell it was not good. As she sucked in a deep breath, Ominis was there to pull her tighter in reassurance.

“Anne is not a mistake. I am not a mistake. My father loved my mother more than anything in this world.” Sebastian continued his rant as he attempted to slow his breathing. He felt his fingers itching towards his wand and while under normal circumstances he might have whipped it out, the fact he knew she was just a few feet away through the door, still somehow breathing thanks to his Uncle’s quick work was enough to keep him from loosing control. He just kept trying to imagine her eyes looking up at him reassuringly. He had to keep it together for her sake.

“If he loved her than he should have wed her before he defiled her. I will be damned if you do the same to that girl.” Solomon shoved Sebastian again as he continued to yell and this time Sebastian defiantly was unmoved by his uncles shove. Ominis sensed due to the way Anne had begun shaking in his arms that maybe someone needed to hear the words being thrown about and dropped the charm just as Sebastian spoke.

“I love her. When I decide to wed her it will not be because you have forced me to do so. It will be because I want to. I would never defile the woman I care for so deeply.” Sebastian responded with no malice in his voice, as it slipped out in a confident and collected tone. He was done allowing his uncle to get under his skin. Sebastian was done screaming and slowly tried to cool the scorching anger that had been coursing his veins as his uncle yelled at him. Instead he did his best to focus on how lucky he was that she had survived her injuries. The luck he felt standing at her side. The way the stars aligned so perfectly in allowing him to love such a woman. The way that despite how much he hated his Uncle, he owed the man so much given how he had kept her alive.

Sebastian’s eyes slowly went glassy as he defiantly held his uncle’s gaze. Solomon’s anger remained, however shock slowly worked its way unto his features at his nephew’s bold admission. The door to the cottage swung open as Professor Fig stepped outside. He also heard the boy’s bold claim…

Sebastian didn’t jump as his uncle’s hand made contact with his shoulder in the home. He merely allowed himself to be turned around, no more energy left in his body as the fighting and trauma the day was finally setting in as his adrenaline was disappearing. Solomon let out a sigh, attempting to massage the tension in his brow with his other hand as he maintained his hold on his nephew: his grip softened. “Please take her to the tent to get some rest. After a day like today I think everyone needs some shut eye. I… I apologize for being harsh.” Without an explanation Solomon turned and walked away to check on Anne.

Not wanting to dwell on the stress of the evening he decided to simply collect her and retire to their solitude from Solomon. He just wanted to spend all night holding her in his arms until the sun reappeared, putting to rest this terrible day.

“Hey you” she said horsely as he reappeared at her side. He allowed a small smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes cross his features as he moved to grab her from the bed to escort her carefully outside. Before he grabbed her he decided to avoid another unnecessary argument with Solomon, grabbing his uncle’s discarded vest on the other bed.

Sebastian shrugged the black vest on, not bothering with the buttons as he slowly moved the blanket she had been wrapped in from her body. He tried not to grimace seeing the blood that had accumulated under her as he slowly lifted her the same way he had done before, standing with her tiny body nestled in his arms.

He tipped his nose into the crook of her neck, briefly inhaling her faded sent of lavender before slowly making his way outside.

Anne and Ominis followed the pair outside and once inside the tent, Anne went to their shared room to conjure a bath for his injured lover. He continued to hold her wordlessly in his arms as he watched Anne move about the space, attempting to make it so she could help the injured girl remove the blood that had caked itself into her skin and hair.

Ominis remained in the entry way of the girls space listening to the quite shifting of Anne rushing about and Sebastian’s heavy breathing against the girls skin. She simply allowed herself to be held by the boy as her eyes remained closed, and her head laid against his tall frame. No one knew what to say after the chaos.

It wasn’t long before Anne asked Sebastian to set her down on the small stool next to the wash bin and he obliged reluctantly. Carefully he bent his knees to lightly set her on the stool before standing again. His hand cradled her cheek in his warm hands as she hummed relieved at the contact.

“Sebastian you should consider doing the same.” Anne gestured to the way he had her dried blood on his stomach from where he had carried her.

“You are probably right” he said unmoving despite Anne’s attempt at shooing him from the room. She understood him not wanting to leave. Anne also was finding it difficult to swallow the lump in her throat after she spent time outside listening to the girl screaming and her brothers sob, along with the fight from Solomon. His admission earlier in their yard was ringing in her head as she recognized that the day must have taken a deeper tole than she realized on her other half.

Her eyes trailed on the way the wash bin had filled with bubbles and her body was aching to clean itself of the day’s horrible experiences. She hadn’t even had much anxiety about the fact that Sebastian was only a few feet apart and had yet to see her without clothing, nor the fact their blind companion was lingering in the doorway not speaking. Just as she was about to remove the rest of her top she heard Anne offering Sebastian a compromise as he seemed unwilling to leave her side for long.

“How about I help her get in the tub and since there’s enough water and soap to keep you from seeing her um… indecent… you can come back once she’s in?” She offered, knowing damn well no one in the tent cared about rules of being proper or what was okay to the adults around them. They just had to pick up the pieces in whatever fashion they could, as even their unique circumstances held much weight on how the four teens ended up there to begin with.

Anne was still cursed and slowly withering away. Sebastian was fighting ever obstacle to accept that, while still trying his best to find a cure. Ominis had no family that cared for him. She held a power that made it dangerous for her safety, as well as her families. The four would forever be knit together in a familial bond, shared trauma and the present danger that loomed over them. At the end of the day that mattered more than marital status or propriety.

Sebastian simply looked to the girl for confirmation and she nodded her had at Anne’s idea. The pair knew that Anne and Ominis would not mention the act to Solomon, especially given how scared her brush with death was still lingering on the air for all of them.

He turned to leave the space, taking Ominis with him as he left. He heard the girls hushed whispers and the small groans leaving her as the movement must have still been hurting her. It took all the strength left in his aching body to not rush back in at her pained noises.

As he waited for Anne to re-emerge he sat on the ground, removing the worn boots from his feet in silence. Ominis sat by the fire pit in the center, attempting to start a small fire to keep them warm.

“I didn’t know you felt so strongly for our new friend” Ominis said after the first flames licked the wood he set in the fire pit.

Sebastian looked at his friend, who shifted awkwardly to sit on the large pile of cushions in the center of the room. “I am just glad she is okay.” He finally responded to Ominis, who only could find it in him to nod.

It wasn’t long before Anne returned wordless and she sat beside their blind companion and Sebastian moved to go back to the side` room.

Under other circumstances he may have been nervous knowing the girl was in the area completely nude, only veiled by water and soap, but after today that was the last thing on his mind. He knew that if Solomon were aware he was in here, he would cart them both off to the ministry for marriage immediately but for now Sebastian couldn’t be bothered to care. Let the man do it for all he cares .

Anne had conjured a few candles to allow the girl the ability to see in the dark room of the tent and he smelt the familiar lavender soap she always uses. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat on the small stool next to the basin.

She laid in the water, allowing the warmth to envelop her still cold body. She slowly brought a cloth over the plains of her sore body, washing away all the filth she had accumulated. She tried not to grimace as the water turned a murky pinkish brown.

Sebastian watched as she attempted to lift her hands into her hair, stopping short of undoing her braid with a huff of annoyance. Without asking he leaned forward, unwrapping the band she usually tied around the ends to keep it together. His fingers were luckily still fairly clean from where he had attempted to wash her earlier. His deft hands slowly undid the plait she had done that morning and before long her hair was free from its restraint.

“Thank you” she whispered out, enjoying the way his hands had handled her with such care. She looked over her shoulder to see him silently nod.

“Can you tip your head back?” He asked her quietly and she did as he asked without question. Sebastian reached for the floor where Anne had left a small pitcher. Taking his wand he cast a small charm to clean the water of the tub as its color had become quite concerning with all the blood her body was covered in.

She sighed as he gentled poured the warm water over her skull to dampen her wild locks. Sebastian ever so gently took his time using some soap he found to clean the dirt from her skull. She couldn’t help but appreciate the way his slender fingers caressed her hair, separating the dried blood from the strands. He was as gentle with his actions, and she found her body relaxing at the feeling of the warm water washing over her head. Before long he finished his task of cleaning her hair, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the top of her head before sitting back again.

She turned around to thank him when she saw how filthy he was in the semi-dark room. “Anne wasn’t wrong when she said you also needed to bathe” she said with a small chuckle.

He allowed a small smile to work its way on his face as he looked at her. Even now she looked so beautiful with water clinging to her hair and exhaustion on her features. A dark bruise was starting to form across the side of her face and she had a small split on the corner of her lip. “And how do you propose I do that? You are hogging the tub.”

He meant for it to come out as a quip but when she scooted her body forward wordlessly as she gestured behind her, and he panicked. The shock of the day finally wearing off as he realized what she was insinuating.

“I can wait for you to finis-“ he started in but she interrupted him.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone right now.” Her words carried the exhaustion he knew she must be feeling. Almost dying really takes a lot out of you .

Sebastian felt like he was in a trance as he turned his body away from hers to slowly start peeling the vest from his shoulders. He peaked over his shoulders to make sure she wasn’t looking at him and instead he found her bright eyes looking at him with curiosity.

“Hey, no looky.” He playfully quipped as she turned around again with a huff. He saw her scoot forward a bit more in the basin, leaving a spot for him once he finished removing his clothes.

Sebastian slowly peeled his pants down his long legs along with his socks. He had debated removing his briefs but decided that would be too much. Maybe some other time he thought but for now he didn’t want to risk his member making direct contact with her soft skin, nor allow her the opportunity to notice the way it was slightly hardening.

When he turned around he noticed how she was still not facing him, and slowly made his way to the tub. Holding the sides as he lowered himself into the enchanted water he let out a groan.

Before long he found himself seated behind the girl, who slowly turned around to face him. He turned bright red as she looked at him with an intensity he didn’t want to acknowledge knowing his sister was only separated by a small flap… He knew that just below the bubbles along her chest laid her unclothed breasts, and while it was often difficult to tell their size and shape due to the layers of clothes, he had spent an unhealthy amount of time trying to picture what they would look like. He also figured if he truly wanted to, he could reach out now and touch them and she most likely wouldn’t mind.

Sebastian watched as she lifted the small rag up to his chest, slowly scrubbing away the mire along his collarbones. He didn’t say anything as she took her time carefully washing away the mess on his torso. When she finished cleaning his ribs he swiped the cloth from her hands, wanting to avoid a situation where she accidentally brushed his briefs.

Shewatched as he ran the rag over his legs that were covered in dark brown hair. She had noticed the small patch of hair that had rested between his pecks on his chest when she had cleaned the area. More reminders at his manhood she hadn’t been able to see until now…

When he finished he handed the rag back to her as she slowly brushed it over his face to finish cleaning the mess along his chin and hairline. Again, she noticed how he had developed a small bit of scruff on his chin and upper lip. It had slowly made its appearance after Halloween, but it was finally becoming undeniable that they young man should probably begin shaving more regularly.

“Can you turn around?” She asked him. He simply nodded and she took a deep breath knowing that to retrieve the pitcher he had used to help clean her hair, she would have to remove her upper body from the water’s protection.

Just as she eased herself up on her knees to lean over the side of the tub she slipped, pressing her weight onto the newly developing scar and let out a small whelp. At her discomfort Sebastian turned around without thinking. He hadn’t been expecting to see her removed from the water from the waist up.

She had quickly pulled herself back from the side of the tub, holding her hand to the fresh scar, but that action left her breasts exposed. Sebastian tried his best to avoid looking at them the best he could, but he was a young man after all. A young man who was in love with the woman naked in front of him. His eyes couldn’t help but trail over the subtle slope of the way her chest lead into the curve of her waist. Sebastian couldn’t deny how he lingered on the way the light reflected on her perfectly shaped breasts. Or how he was committing to memory the size, shape and color of her lovely nipples. He immediately felt a pulse in his manhood and he was glad he kept the briefs on.

Her eyes looked panicked as she realized he was staring at her breasts. She truly had only meant to grab the pitcher, and return to the semi-modesty of the waterline to wash his hair in the same way he had done for her. Yet here she found herself trapped in his gaze as his eyes softened at the exposed expanse of her upper body. She quickly wrapped her arms around her torso the best she could, self conscious knowing that she had never been barren to another person, let alone a man.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, remembering why he had turned around in the first place. His eyes remained on her breasts despite her arms now covering her nipples. She couldn’t help but notice the way his chest slowly was turning pink and his eyes were growing darker. She simply nodded, unsure how to proceed. Realizing the pitcher was just out of her reach, and would require more of her to leave the water, she decided it best to ask Sebastian to grab it instead.

“I was… trying to grab the um…” she trailed off as he leaned closer to her in the water. He stopped when he arrived directly in front of her eyeline before reaching up and over the side to grab the tool with ease. Instead of handing it to her, he set it on the stool with the soap he left out when he joined the tub.

“You are so beautiful”. He said, chocolate eyes meeting her own before pulling her arms from covering her chest. He quickly moved away, turning around again, allowing her to wash his hair as he tried to calm the raging emotions he felt at seeing her nude.

She felt the deep blush forming on her cheeks as she slowly began to pull his head to lean back in the same manor as he had done for her. While she usually would take time and attention to focus on his hair, as she knew how much he enjoyed her showing physical affection in that way, she felt the need to rush now. She needed them out of the tub before they both did something they couldn’t come back from.

“All done” she said washing the final suds away from his wet brown locks, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to face her again as she looked directly at his naked chest. Sebastian nodded, standing from the water, briefs tightly clinging to weight in the garment. She looked directly at the way the now soaked clothing clung to the curve of his buttock. And when he turned to face her the little remaining air in her lungs left noticing the way a small trail of dark hair led into the one part of his body that remained clothed. Or the way the fabric pulled against his member… Oh Merlin .

Quickly the Slytherin boy grabbed a towel left near the side of the tubs edge, wrapping it around his waist before grabbing the other. He turned his head to the side, holding it out for her. Taking a deep breath she stood quickly, allowing him to wrap it around her shoulders to hide her modesty. The pair made quick work of stepping out of the water, facing away from each other as they dried. Sebastian was running the towel over his hair when he heard her towel drop to the floor.

He couldn’t find the strength to continue as he attempted to look at her body. Her back was still to him as she was sliding a thin nightgown over her head. Her backside still completely barren for a brief moment as she pulled it down over her bottom. With the pain she was facing and the fact the boy was only a few feet behind her, not attempting to hide his glances at her naked form she decided to forgo undergarments until the morning.

She turned around and he quickly tried to disguise his staring by continuing to towel off his hair. While she was unsure how much he had seen, she noticed the quick flash of his eyes before it was hidden again behind the towel. She would bring it up another time .

“How do you plan on getting clean clothes Mr. Sallow?” She said playfully questioned noticing he was still only wrapped at the waist with a towel. He swallowed at her question, not really thinking of what he was to do until now.

“Well, it’s nothing Anne hasn’t already seen and Ominis well..” he trailed off with a chuckle before stepping towards her. He carefully helped lead her over to the bed she had been using before helping her situate herself.

She still couldn’t help but look at the way his freckles laid scattered along his collarbones and the sparse hair along his chest. She wondered what it would feel like to touch her hands to the soft skin there.

“I shall be right back, don’t move” he said, carefully pressing a kiss to her hairline and dropping her wand onto her lap before striding out of the side room. She hadn’t even seen him grab her wand, but she figured it would be best to remove the wash basin from the room so no one tripped over it in the middle of the night. As she cleaned the room from the bed she tried to not dwell on how they had both just been naked in each other’s presence as two young adults who were both not wed nor engaged. Under other circumstances she may have felt guilty for her actions, however given how the day had transpired she found very little to care about. In fact, the prospects of doing it again excited her. She wanted to know all the ways his body would continue to develop into a man and he continued to fill out.

He returned very shortly after departing, wearing a pair of loose fitting trousers and a sweater. In his hands he held a small tankard full of water, a loaf of bread and his wand. “Here you should try and eat something” he said quietly handing it to her. She took it graciously, breaking off a small piece and then almost inhaling it.

“I guess you were hungry” he said with a chuckled whisper. When she quirked her eyebrow at his quiet tone he replied “Anne and Ominis are passed out together near the fire. Really cute how she’s holding him I may add. ” She simply hummed and continued to eat.

Remembering he also must be hungry she broke off a small portion offering it to him as he laughed at the crumb on her split lip. He wiped it away and opened his mouth slightly, allowing her to place the small piece in his mouth before he closed his lips around the bite, also lightly kissing her digit in the process. They continued passing the bread back and forth in silence.

Once finished she laid back slightly on the comforting bed with a sigh. He moved towards the headboard, sitting next to her. Unsure how to proceed, he took her hand in his, holding it close to his chest.

“Thank you for staying with me today. I am sorry you had to see that” she finally found the words that had been plaguing her mind for a while.

“You don’t need to thank me nor do you need to apologize.” He said, stroking the skin of her hand as he spoke.

“I did not mean to frighten you with my injury.” She said looking up to finally meet his eyes in the dimly lit room.

“I am just glad you’re okay.” He spoke with sincerity. His hand went to cradle her cheek as she had a single tear now rolling from her eye.

“Please stay with me” she asked and he nodded. He climbed off the bed temporarily, allowing her to pull back the covers and clabber in before he followed her lead.

“How do you sleep in a sweater? I would burn up.” She said laughing as she lifted the wool fabric.

“I don’t.” He said bluntly.

“Then why did you put it on” she laughed as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Because I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to lay next to you or sit along your bedside and its likely to get chilly in the evening.” He spoke honestly, no sense in lying to her.

“Well how do you normally sleep?” She asked, voice trailing off towards the end.

“Without a shirt.” He responded with a slight wince in his voice. “But I can keep this on -“

“No, you should get comfortable. Besides its not like I haven’t spent the whole day looking at you without a shirt on now” she responded with a soft laugh.

Sebastian decided to not question her demand and leaned up enough to pull the offending material over his head before laying back down beside her. He laid on his back, eyes trailed to the tent’s ceiling as she turned away from him, her back pressing into his shoulder.

“Sebastian?” She whispered out as he turned his head towards her frame. She had turned her face enough to look over her shoulder at him. He quirked an eyebrow to ask what she needed and she took a deep breath before continuing. “Would it be improper to ask you to hold me?” She asked looking at his eyes.

“I think we are past improper at this point Love” Sebastian responded as he rolled onto his side and scooted closer to her. He was disappointed as her face moved back to resting on the pillow facing away from him, but that feeling dissipated as he felt her hand reach back to grab his own, pulling it around her body and to her chest.

Sebastian was careful as he tried to avoid her wound as he laid his arm along her side. His body curved around hers as he wrapped her in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder as y/n hummed.

“I love you Sebastian.” She said as she nodded off.

“I love you more” he barely made out before he let the darkness take him as well.

Notes:

Thank you to everyone who has been so kind in the comments thus far. I truly appreciate every single one!

Next part:

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #ominis gaunt #professor fig #solomon sallow #anne sallow

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy;harry potter

word count: 1794

request?: yes!

“Would you be willing to write Dramione. A little take on the classic Granger Family Reunion where she her cousins try to shame her but then she gets to show off everything she’s earned and worked hard for. I live vicariously through these kinds of fics. My extended family sucks and I always wish I could do something like this.”

description: in which her muggle cousins try to make fun of her, but she gets to brag to them about all the good things she has in life, including her boyfriend who is there to witness it all

pairing: hermione granger x draco malfoy

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Very few of Hermione’s extended family knew the truth about what she and Draco were. It was a hard secret to keep, but they weren’t allowed to tell anyone outside of her parents and grandparents since the rest of her family were Muggles.

The story they told her family was that she went away to a private school at the age of 10 and that’s where she met Draco. Now that they were graduated, and Hermione was living with Draco in the Wizarding World and interning at the Ministry of Magic, the story had changed to say that she was working at a small business owned by Draco’s family while she waited to hear about college admissions.

Hermione always dreaded her family reunions. She had always been the black sheep of her family. Her cousins were always so judgmental of her; they always had something negative to say about her no matter what she said or did. If it weren’t for her parents and Draco’s insistence, she’d probably never go to a family reunion for the rest of her life.

The next Granger family reunion was a few weeks before Christmas. Hermione was already home to spend Christmas with her parents, so she couldn’t even come up with some excuse to get out going.

Hermione found herself stood in a corner on her own in her aunt’s house while the rest of her family conversed. No one was trying to speak to her and she was almost grateful for that. She was thinking about finding Draco and the two of them making their escape before anyone knew they had gone.

“‘Mione!”

Hermione tried not to cringe as her cousin, Elizabeth, walked over to her. She threw her arms around the young witch in a bone crushing hug, signifying to Hermione that she had already had a few too many drinks.

“Hello Lizzie,” Hermione said, awkwardly patting her on the back. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m lovely! You know how much I love the holiday season!”

I know how much you love the wine, Hermione thought to herself.

“So, where’s your sweetheart?” Elizabeth asked. “Don’t tell me he didn’t come this year.”

“He’s just over there, talking with mum and Aunt Lydia,” Hermione responded, nodding in the direction where Draco was stood with her family.

As if sensing them looking at him, Draco looked over at the two Granger women. He met eyes with Hermione and gave her a small smile, which she reciprocated. She was glad to have Draco there with her. It made the whole event much more bearable to get through, and she knew that if she wanted to go at any time before the end of the night, Draco would happily go with her.

“Oh, he is certainly fond of you,” Elizabeth commented. “Look at the way he’s looking at you. That’s pure love right there.”

Hermione couldn’t stifle the giggle that bubbled from her lips. “I would certainly hope so.”

“So why hasn’t he put a ring on that finger yet?”

Any ounce of amusement that Hermione was feeling drained from her immediately. Here we go. The judgement about the littlest things. Never mind that she and Draco were still in their post secondary, still only in their early teens, had only been together four years. Not to mention that marriage wasn’t exactly necessary when they were already living together.

Hermione gave her cousin a sickly sweet false smile and said, “Goodbye Elizabeth.”

She tried to walk away, but Elizabeth shot a hand out to grab her arm and stopped her in her tracks.

“Wait! Come on, I didn’t mean anything by the question,” she insisted. “I was just asking.”

“Seems you should be asking Draco that question,” Hermione responded, coolly.

“Should be asking me what question?”

Draco appeared next to the cousins, sliding an arm around Hermione’s waist. She tried to relax into his touch, but it seemed almost impossible. Now that the metaphorical damn had broken, she felt ready to leave before any more scrutiny came her way.

“Lizzie was asking why you haven’t proposed to me yet,” Hermione said.

Her cousin’s face turned crimson red. “It was just a simple question!”

“It was a judgmental question.”

“Love, why don’t we get you a drink?” Draco interrupted. “Excuse us, Elizabeth.”

Hermione was steaming as Draco led her to the kitchen. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything she may regret. She knew that Draco’s offer to get her a drink was just to get her away from the situation that was upsetting her, but now that she was here, she started pouring herself a glass of wine.

“God, they’re all such catty assholes,” she muttered as she downed her glass. “I can’t believe I keep coming to these get togethers.”

“You’d feel bad if you didn’t,” Draco said.

“Would I? I think I’d feel much better about myself if I didn’t have a bunch of my supposed family making me feel like a useless nobody every time I see them.”

“But you’re not a useless nobody.” Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. “You are the best witch I have ever met in my life. You helped to defeat the most powerful wizard of all time, and now you have an internship at the Ministry of Magic. Personally, I think you’re amazing.”

Hermione smiled a little. “They don’t know all that.”

“They don’t need to know that. You know that, and I know that.”

He learned forward and placed his forehead against Hermione’s. She smiled and leaned into his touch.

“You know how to make me feel good,” she said.

“I like when you feel good. You get that cute smile on your face when you feel good.”

Hermione giggled and closed the space between them. She was grateful that Draco had come with her, and that he was always so willing to be by her side when she needed him. Maybe she could convince him to take her home early so they could have some time alone before her parents got home.

“There you two - oh!”

Hermione and Draco pulled away from one another and looked over to see Hermione’s mom in the doorway to the kitchen. She buried her face in Draco’s chest as she felt it heat up with embarrassment.

“Your Aunt June wants to do the family toast,” she told the two lovers. “We’re all gathering in the lounge.”

Hermione internally groaned.

The family toast was another self-indulgent practice at these Granger family reunions. It was when the family gathered around so that whoever was holding the reunion could make a big speech about how proud they were of the family and all the accomplishments everyone had been through. Of course, there was always backhanded compliments made at Hermione’s expense.

Seeing Hermione’s distaste, Draco whispered, “After the toast we’ll leave. I promise.”

Hermione leaned into him and they walked into the lounge where the rest of the family was gathered.

As to be expected, the “toast” reached 10 minutes and Hermione’s eyes started to gloss over. Her Aunt’s voice was droning on and on about the year her kids had (with some brief mentions of her husband) to a point where Hermione was falling asleep standing up. She leaned her head against Draco’s shoulder and closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Draco covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“My dear brother, Wendall,” Aunt June said. “Another great year for you at the office. And Monica, as wonderful as ever, always so good to my baby brother.”

Hermione’s parents politely smiled.

Aunt June turned her attention to Hermione to add, “Joined tonight by their wonderful daughter, Hermione, and her boyfriend, Draco.”

When her Aunt June went on to speak about someone else almost immediately, Hermione felt her already thin patience run out. Before she could stop herself, she said, “That’s it?”

Everyone turned to look at her. Draco put an arm around her waist, supportively, but knew to let her go wherever this was going.

“What do you mean?” Aunt June asked.

“You spent over 10 minutes talking about your own kids and how ‘successful’ they were this year when all they did was just barely pass their classes and one of them quit yet another job. But you can’t even spare a couple of minutes to talk about how I’m doing this year?”

The room was awkwardly silent. Hermione’s parents hid their proud smiles behind their glasses of wine while Draco wore his openly on his face.

Aunt June let out an awkward laugh. “We hardly see you, Hermione. You can’t blame us for not knowing what you’re doing?”

“So you can’t call my mum and ask? Not even a simple ‘How is Hermione doing’ every once in a while?”

When her aunt didn’t respond, she continued, “I graduated my high school classes with the top grades of my class. I got an internship with a very important business to me that could forward my career, and I moved into my own apartment with Draco, where we adopted another cat together. So, I have been just as successful as any of you. You just opt to ignore it because I didn’t go to college right away or I’m not engaged or working a high paying job even though I’m still only 19.”

Her anger had reached its boiling point and she knew it was time to go. She took hold of Draco’s hand, mumbled a quick “See you at home” to her parents before leaving. A quiet murmur rose through the room as they left, only being cut off by Hermione slamming the front door shut.

As they got into the car, Hermione let out a frustrated groan. “I’m never coming to one of these ever again. Never! They do this every time and I’m goddamn sick of it! If they want to treat me like this, then I’ll - ”

Draco took hold of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. The gesture both shocked and comforted her. She melted into the kiss, leaning into his touch.

“Was that to shut me up?” she asked when they pulled away.

“A little,” he admitted. “But also because I think you’re amazing and I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself in there.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming to these horrendous gatherings with me.”

“I’ll go to another hundred horrendous events for you, love.”

Hermione kissed Draco again. “Let’s go back to my parents’ place. I want to be as far away from here as possible, and I want to be cuddled up with my boyfriend and a nice mug of hot chocolate.”

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