#second chapter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lorifragolina · 4 months

Text

Harringrove- The Book

Made the second chapter for the @harringrovestorychallenge

Here you can find the first chapter tw: blood, injuries

CHAPTER 2

Billy opened his eyes, driving back from sleep by an ache in his shoulder.

He also felt the dull pain on his face and back, for his father’s hits, and the dry tears on his face.

He indulged a little in the snuggle on Steve’s chest, and then he started hearing the life noises in the house.

“Harrington,” he whispered, shaking him a little.

Steve started protesting. Billy shushed him

“Quiet, Harrington,” he closed his mouth with a hand. “You have to go,” he kept whispering with urgency.

Steve blinked, confused. He hugged a crying Billy last night, watching him falling asleep, and finally he let the sleep win on himself too and fell asleep holding Billy.

“Go away, quick!” said Billy again, more agitated. He cocked an ear again to the house and breathed frantically. “If he finds you here… if he sees your car…” he whimpered, a point of fear in his voice.

Steve collected his shoes. “He does it… often?” he stupidly asked, and Billy’s face crumbled when he nodded.

“He likes to… check his work,” he said again, hopelessly.

Steve couldn’t find something else to say. He climbed the window, but before jumping he leant to kiss Billy again.

Billy pecked him and smiled.

“Can I call you? To see you later,” whispered Steve. Billy shook his head.

“No… but you can call Hagan. I… sort of hung out with him later. At the arcade, maybe”.

Steve sighed. “Tommy and I aren’t friends anymore, but… I’ll figure it out”.

Billy nodded and Steve jumped off the window in the still dawn air, running to his car. He saw Billy turn back and close the window.

His heart sank while he went away, while a sharp fury and a hot rage were growing into him.

He planned to swallow his pride and call Tommy Hagan, but luckily he had not to. Lucas called him to drive the party to the arcade, naming Max among other things, so he agreed to drive them to the Palace.

Billy, Tommy and Carol were already there, casually chatting, and sat on a bench in the parking lot. “You in for the movie tonight?” said Carol, chewing her gum. Popping.

“‘M kind of grounded,” muttered Billy. “Except for driving shitbird,” he sighed, and whatever Tommy was about to say, died on his tongue as he saw the Beamer parking slowly at the other side of the lot, after passing slowly in front of them. He was sure Harrington glanced at them before stopping.

Billy gulped, unnoticed by the other two, when the kids stormed out of the car, and Steve came out too looking casually around, fidgeting nonchalantly with something, and then, as he was doing it all the time, he walked to them, lighty waving a hand. He was playing cool, but Billy’s heart started to run wildly when he looked furtively and saw him chewing his lips nervously. Tommy muttered something.

“Hagan. Carol,” he tilted his head, without answers. “Hargrove,” his voice pitched a little higher. “Do you have light?”

Tommy and Carol, a cig hanging on their lips, didn’t move. Billy forced himself to count three Missisippis before waving his Zippo in front of him.

“... and a cig?” added Steve, trying without success to unlock his eyes from Billy’s. Billy scoffed and took his packet, giving him one.

“Fuck, it’s the last,” he complained, ligthing it for Steve. He took a drag.

“I’ll buy you more,” Steve tilted his head to the store, and Billy jumped up.

“Will be better,” and he followed him through the park.

He felt the sting of Tommy's glance on his shoulders, but didn’t look back. He tried to avoid looking at Steve, though.

“Wanna kiss you,” Steve whispered when they were alone.

“Don’t”.

“Wanna hold your hand,” insisted Steve.

“Don’t,” Billy blushed a little and smiled at him, clinching his hand. He fucked up all the discretion and looked him in the face.

Steve bought the cigs. “Movie tonight?” he tilted to the Family video.

“I’m kind of grounded,” he repeated and sighed, sinking his hands in his pockets.

Steve sighed too. “He… did something again…?”

Billy shook his head. “Don’t wanna talk about it now”.

Steve stared at the scratches Billy had on his hands, because he didn’t want to risk staring at his very face, and felt again the fury and the rage.

“Take the bat,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I have a… a nailed bat in the trunk,” Billy raised an eyebrow really suddenly, but Steve waved a hand. “Long story. I’ll tell you another time,” and then he moved again to Tommy and Carol.

He tried to be natural, and Billy too, but it wasn’t easy. When they finally went away and the kids started to come out of the arcade, Steve hid the bat in the trunk of a baffled Billy, grabbing his hand with a soft glance.

They tried to be discreet at school. Only talking casually in public, coldly, and fighting in the court. Kissing and touching and taking off clothes in their car after school. “I’ll have house free this weekend,” said Steve next Thursday, cuddling under the blanket in Billy’s car. They’re freezing their ass and couldn’t properly snuggle anymore in the car. They couldn’t even be completely nude that week.

Billy whined for pleasure and expectancy.

“You’re in for the movie tonight?” Hagan stopped him in the desert hallway, a half grin on the face. Billy jumped a little, surprised. He blinked trying to think of a good excuse.

“Or you’re still grounded?” continued Tommy. Billy started to nod, relieved. “With the cute ass you’re fooling around?”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. They had been suble, cautious… he panicked and couldn’t hide his pale look to Tommy.

“Don’t worry,” said Tommy, nodding lightly.

“How do you…”

“Come on, dude. You two are going away together from Tina’s, Steve appeared from nowhere around us and you two are chirping like love birds all week… we first thought you two fistfighted, but it was pretty clear that you have another kind of fight”.

Billy blushed furiously.

“But don’t worry. I knew you’re not really into bitches. I wouldn’t bet on Harrington, but he’s hot. Count on me for anything”. Tommy smirked, blinked an eye and went away to Carol. Billy had to lean a little to the wall, sweating and breathing heavily.

Steve looked out the window. The sky was gray and heavy with rain, and Billy was already a little late. He had popcorn and some treats, some movies, a blanket on the sofa, and he changed the sheet on his bed, he shaved and combed his hair and put a new polo and his best jeans on. He was nervous, and he kept looking at his watch. He heard the noise of the car screeching while it started raining. He jumped at the door as he saw the car coming at a crazy speed and almost crashing against the wall with a terrible brake noise. It was dented and broken on the front, and Billy crawled to the open door wielding the bat, covered in blood.

He had half of his jacket ripped, his hair glued for sweat and blood, his face also covered in blood, and the tears he was crying made a clean path on his cheeks.

“I… I tried to… I had to… I don’t know… I don’t know…”, he whispered frantically, before collapsing in his arms, whining and staining him with blood too.

The howling broke the silence, while the rain soaked them, in the cold, freezing wind.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #Harringrovestorychallenge #second chapter #tommy hagan

26 notes · View notes

creamymilkk · 2 years

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * ♡. 🥤 Different Type Of Love 🥤 .♡

Call me (call me) my love . Call me, call me and we'll take a ride call me (call me) on the line. Call me, call me in to overtime Call me

༉‧₊˚ #Vance Hopper x reader

. ˚₊ ꒱ Pairing/Pairings: Vance Hopper and F!Reader.

༉‧₊˚ -Format: Fanfiction.

× &﹕Summary: You got a official date with Vance Hopper

×﹕♺ AUTHOR’S NOTE(S): Chapter 2!! The amount of love I’m getting is crazy! So 2.3k words :) I recommend listening to the playlist while reading.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

masterlist | Requests: OPEN | tags:@niniackerman @steveharringtonnbat @ethanhawkestan @kimbleplays @brady-bo0 @ihearteddie-munson

“It’s Vance…Vance Hopper..” he said, still on the floor. ‘Why did you ask him for his name?! That was so dumb of you already knew his name.’

Your thoughts were quickly cut off short when he grabbed your hand and pulled himself up off the ground. “So are you okay?” You asked him.

“Other than my butt stinging. Yeah… I’m okay.” He joked. You laughed at his comment. You didn’t know what to do, you're not good with conversations!

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” You said to him turning your back towards him. Slowly walking away wishing you had talked with him a bit longer.

“Hey! Wait a second.” You turned around seeing Vance quickly walking to you. “Do you ever want to hang out?” He asked, looking at you.

‘Is he trying to ask me out?’ you questioned yourself. You almost said ‘yes!’ Keyword. Almost. Until you remember you already had plans.

“Uh maybe another time. I already have plans.” You answered. He kinda looked a bit sad when you said that. Which made you hate yourself for saying that.

“Or..” he looked a bit confused but brightened a bit. You took out a piece of paper and a black pen and handed the paper and the pen.

“Or you could write down your phone number and we could plan out when we can hang out?” You stated well mostly preyed that he would do that. “Yeah sure.”

Vance took the paper and pen then wrote down his phone number. Then quickly handed it to you “I will call you when I have time. Have a great day Vance.” You said to him.

You quickly walked away with a radiant smile and bright red checks. you couldn’t believe you had the Vance Hopper phone number. He wanted to hangout with you.

You could’ve shouted out of happiness, you couldn’t wait until you could call him. You opened the paper.

‘***-***-**** i can't wait until we can officially hang out :) - V.H’ you went scarlet red. His handwriting was messy, sure. But it was Vance's handwriting.

You sighed happily then you realized that you needed to go with JENNIFER AT THE DINER! You almost forgot after talking to Vance. You quickly ran home to get the money and at least try to look better.

“Color me your color, baby. Color me your car Color me your color, darling I know who you are.”

You already heard the music playing inside, the diner was a light colorful baby blue color. With some baby pink color in some places.

There were many people in the diner since it was a very popular hang out spot, for people of all ages.

You walked inside and you already saw your friend. Jennifer is sitting in one of the booths, already seeing the menu. You walked up to her.

“Hey Jennifer, sorry for being late.” “I literally thought you stood me up!” Jennifer said, looking up to you.

You just nodded and sat cross from her, “so why are you late? You normally are always on time.” She stated.

“Oh well it’s becau-“ You were quickly interrupted.

“Hello my name is Jenny. Are you two ladies ready to order?” A lady asked both of you, she was wearing the diner’s uniform.

A bright blue baby dress with a baby pink apron with some white in her dress. She had her hair in a bun, with bright red lipstick that stood out. The lady named Jenny had a smile on her face when she was looking at you and Jennifer. With a notepad so she can write down whatever you two were going to order.

“Two milkshakes! A vanilla one and..” Jennifer said while looking at you for an answer.

“Uh..a strawberry one please.” You spoke.

The lady named Jenny wrote down what you two said, looking up from her notepad. She looked at you both.

“Coming right up!” She quickly walked away from your guy's table.

“Come up off your color chart. I know where you're coming from.”

“Anyways, why were you late?” Jennifer repeated her question.

“Oh right!” You said looking brighter, you slowly started smiling.

In all honesty you couldn’t wait to tell Jennifer what happened with you and Vance. It was a dream come true, the fact you got Vance Hopper phone number. And the cherry on top was he wanted to hang out with you. Yes you!! You couldn’t believe it.

“So you know me and Vance always walk in the same direction for school?” “Duh, you told me already.” Jennifer replied.

“So basically he asked to hang out and he gave me his phone number!” You quickly told her.

It was so quickly that Jennifer couldn’t even process what you even said. Thankfully she did.

“Call me (call me) on the line. Call me, call me any, anytime.”

“No way! No fuc-“ Jennifer was cut off by the server.

“There are you two milkshakes.” She spoke while sitting down with your guys milkshakes on the table.

“Is that all?” “Yeah that’s all.” Jennifer answers to her quickly, trying to make her go away.

The server just smiled and walked away, “Anyways! NO FUCKING WAY!!” She smiled at you. You can totally know she was so happy for you. She was grinning ear to ear giggling like a little girl.

“He totally has eyes on you, I mean Vance never gives out his number.” Jennifer stated she was right, Vance never gives out his number. Since he doesn’t really asks girls, all he does is try to beat his score on Pinball.

“Well I don’t know if he has eyes on me, for sure.” You added a straw inside of the milkshake and took a sip of your strawberry milkshake.

“Oh come on! It’s just the lowdown.” Jennifer said, also sipping her milkshake.

“Call me, call me any, anytime. Call me (call me) I'll arrive. You can call me any day or night.”

“Maybe he just wants to be friends?” You spoke looking at her. You did really think he just wanted to ‘hang out’ and you just got the wrong idea. I mean why you? There are many prettier girls that already have a crush on Vance. But a small part of you really thinks he asked you out.

“Wait what did the paper say?” “Oh here!” You took out the paper that had the number.

Jennifer laughed a bit “Jeepers creepers! He has such horrible writing.” She said while putting the paper down.

You laughed too “I know right!” “Okay how about this. We do a little sleepover and call him?” She said with a smirk.

“Maybe you two can ‘officially hang out’” Jennifer stated like how Vance wrote in the paper.

You smiled “That would be amazing!” You saw Jennifer smile “awww! You really do wanna hang out with him.” “NO WAIT I MEANT THE SLEEPOVER!”

Jennifer laughed hard “I know! I know! Just call your mom if that’s okay. There’s a phone next to the entrance.” She started drinking her milkshake.

“Call me. Cover me with kisses, baby. Cover me with love. Roll me in designer sheets.”

You headed to the phone and put in your mom's phone number for work. Your mom quickly picked up.

You spoke before she could. “Hey mom, I was wondering if I can stay overnight with Jennifer.” You said.

“Of course honey! That would be perfect since I have the Night Shift.” “Okay thanks mom.” You spoke nicely.

“Stay safe.” Then your mom hung up. “I wish you talked to me like that.” Jennifer giggled, you turned around.

“Oh shush!” You laughed.

“I'll never get enough. Emotions come, I don't know why. Cover up love's alibi. Call me (call me) on the line.”

You two walked back to Jennifer's house, the sky already dark and you could see the stars in the dark blue sky. Jennifer unlocked her front door and opened it.

“Your parents aren’t home?” “Nope, they needed to go with my aunt or something.” She answered you with a smile.

You two headed for Jennifer's bedroom, you had already been in her room before. She has a bright and sort of dark yellow wall, with many different types of posters. With different brands and people like the ‘Runways’, ‘Blondie’, ‘The Go-Go’s’, etc. Her room was a mess but still clean at the same time. On her floor, there were magazines, different types of books, and some make-up scattered around.

It was very different from your room. There was a table with a mirror with different kinds of makeup all around. She also had magazines about different places she likes loved to read about. The room smelled like Coca-Cola and strangely enough like sweet food. On her bed there were plushies and on the bedside table was a phone.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to clean my room,” Jennifer said with a bit of embarrassment in her voice.

“Don’t worry about it. I don't mind at all.” You replied. I mean, in all honesty, you didn't care. It's her room, not yours.

You sat down on her bed while Jennifer was going to her Vinyl. Going through a box with records. “Any recommendations?” she spoke with a sweet smile on her face.

“Nope, it's up to you,” you replied, getting a magazine that was right next to you.

“Okay!” Jennifer answered sweetly, grabbing a record. The record quickly started, you remembered this song from the diner quite fast.

“Color me your color, baby Color me your car. Color me your color, darling I know who you are.”

“Wait Jennifer did you pick this from the diner?” you questioned her without looking at her, you have a small smile on your face.

All she did was nod while mumbling the lyrics, you still had the magazine in your hand and you turned it around. It was some sort of boy band? There were three boys in total. The first boy was in the middle with long blonde hair sitting down, the second one was on the right side standing with short brown hair, the third boy was on the left side with jet dark black hair looking kinda mad.

“I see you have taste.” Jennifer spoke sitting on the bed next to you.

“I totally think the black hair boy would be a nice kisser.” She said, smirking and giggling.

“Really? He looks like he hates life.” You laugh pointing at his face.

“I bet you like the blonde one.” She replied giggling winking at you.

“Come up off your color chart. I know where you're coming from. Call me (call me) on the line.”

You didn’t understand what she was trying to say until you looked at him again. His hair kinda looked like…

Vance’s hair.

You blushed hard “w-what! No.” You said, shaking your head.

“Aww someone’s blushing,” Jennifer said cheekily.

“Wait!” Jennifer spoke rather quickly, her face looking like she had a bright idea. Though you couldn’t know what her idea was.

“Call me, call me any, anytime. Call me (call me) I'll arrive You can call me any day or night”

“We- I mean YOU should call Vance’s” Jennifer quickly added.

You were lost for words, you had Vance's number. You should wait for him to call you right? I mean what could you say to him?? Without being weird about it or awkward. Should you guys just talk about something random or should plan out when you two can hang out?

Jennifer could easily tell what you were thinking. It was like she could read your mind. “Ok, you could know… Do some small talk and go on a date,” she states like it was something easy.

“Easy said than done,” you replied to her.

“Call me. Cover me with kisses, baby cover me with love. Roll me in designer sheets.”

“Since you are such a baby.” Jennifer quickly reached into the pocket of your jacket. And swiftly grabbed the note with Vance's number on it.

Then typed in his number on her phone. ‘Shit.’ you thought. “Wait no-” “it's ringing!!” Jennifer said quietly.

The phone was picked up. “What's cracking?” a sort of rough voice answered.

Jennifer was gigging and she shoved the phone onto you. You were lost with words, you didn't know what to say or even do. Your thoughts were quickly cut off by Vance.

“I'll never get enough emotions, I don't know why. Cover up love's alibi”

“Uh…hello?” He sounded annoyed. “Hey it's me,” you told him your name.

“Oh hey.” His voice was much softer and nicer than before. There was an awkward pause. Until Jennifer gave you a soft push on your shoulder.

“Right, so I was wondering when we could… You know hang out,” you spoke a little quiet since you were shy. You didn't know what to do.

“Oh! Uh tomorrow??” “yeah..that works,” you replied to him. Before you could end this really awful conversation. Jennifer took the phone.

“IT'S A DATE.” then hung up. “WAIT WHAT?” you said to her.

“Call me (call me) on the line. Call me, call me any, anytime. Call me (call me) I'll arrive when you're ready we can share the wine.”

“Come on, you two were so awkward in an annoying way and also in a cute way.” she answered smiling.

“See it wasn't that bad!” “It was bad. It was awful.” you spoke.

“IT'S A DATE.” Vance heard in a different voice, not yours. Then the person hung up. He didn’t know who the hell that was, but right now he didn’t care for one second. He got a date with you.

He was blushing just a bit. Then he grew a love struck smile on him, he couldn’t wait to see you on your guys official date.

“Call me.”

#Spotify #requests open #vance hopper #vance hopper x reader #inbox open #female reader #the black phone #vance hopper the black phone #the black phone 2022 #the blackphone vance hopper #the black phone fanfic #the black phone fandom #cute fluff #different kind of love #my first fanfic #my fic tag #second chapter

1K notes · View notes

will-solace-aaaaa · 2 months

Text

Chapter 2: My Dog Can Fly

Once Ariel and I had left, she showed me where she found me. This place had some sort of different feeling, like some crazy vibes. There were so many weird little creatures, I didn't think I was in England anymore.

There were little animals that looked like flowers and mushrooms. They were so tiny that they could probably fit in your hand. 'Aw, that's adorable!' I said, because they were. I wanted to step on one. 'Where are they going?' I asked as we continued walking into the forest. 'And what are they?' 'They're plants.' Ariel informed. 'Oh.' 'Not a very creative name.' I said (very smartly). 'No, they're plants that have been enchanted by magic users.' Which is stupid because magic doesn't exist. 'Magic doesn't exist.' 'Yes, it does,' 'especially here. This is a magical forest.' Oh, that makes me look really dumb. 'I knew that.' I said because I did. I one-hundred percent know that.

The forest did feel like it had some ominous magical stuff everywhere. Ariel informed me that the unnaturally tall trees that I fell into were so tall because of the magic in the ground and nature, and sometimes it can make the smaller plants sentient (hence the weird flower creatures). Ariel said they were called Asi.

The further and further we got into the forest, the taller and taller the trees got; every step felt like it was being watched. We stopped. 'This is where I found you.' She said, pointing to a pile of blood. Woah, was that all my blood? 'What were you doing this far into the forest? It feels... creepy.' 'The deeper into the forest, the more magic there is. I usually don't go this far, but I heard screaming and a large thud,which i presume was you.' She said, and if I fell around here, then Ruby shouldn't be that far!

'Why is the forest magic, And how did it happen?' I asked, the thought had been chewing at my mind for a while. 'Well, 16 years ago, a queen named Lilith had come to Emaia. She said that she wanted to make a deal with the king that her son, Killian, and his daughter, Eliza, would both get married when they were old enough. But the king said no because he knew Lilith was a magic user and that anyone who was to make a promise to her would have no choice but to follow it through. That was her magic.'

'You see, magic users are people that have been born with powers, and no two magic users have the same ability.' I didn't sign up for a history lesson. She continued anyway, though.

'Some say what made the king really decline, though, was that Lilith was dangerous. Her kingdom, Fenadi, were known for their magic users; Lilith's father had caused destruction throughout the entirety of Emaia because his magic would decay anything. He could destroy anything with just touch. There was a war between Emaia and Fenadi, and many lives were lost, the Queen of Emaia had died by the hands of Lilith's father, so the proposal of his daughter someday marrying the grandchild of the man who killed his wife had outraged him.' Wow, this was the most interesting history lesson ever. And I hate history, so that's saying a lot.

'When he declined Lilith's offer, though, she was angered. She had gone out of her way to try and mend both the kingdom's reputation within each other. Lilith had decided that she had been disrespected, and so she had waged another war on Emaia. A war of which is still going on. The king banned all magic users from ever entering his kingdom after that and-' There was a noise in the distance. Some kind of animal it sounded hurt. 'Ruby?' I said before dashing towards the sound. 'Eric, wait!' Ariel said as she ran after me. The animal had sounded injured. Was it Ruby? Was Ruby hurt?

I ran. I ran as fast as I could, tripping over logs and bumps in the ground. The noise was definitely Ruby. It sounded just like when she wanted my food, even though she had just eaten. God, Ruby must be hungry. I'll be sure to get her some amazing food. 'Agh!' I tripped, allowing Ariel to catch up to me.

'Eric! You can not just run off like... that.' She trailed off. 'What is it?' I said, looking up at her as her face twisted into one of alarm and confusion. 'Is...' she started. 'Is that Ruby?' She said, pointing towards a dog-like creature.

That was Ruby, alright.

It was her, just, it wasn't. Ruby looked the same except for the red scales covering some of the patches of her fur, the stubby horns coming out of her head, and a pair of scaly, golden-red wings.

'Ruby?' I said cautiously. She looked over at me for a second before recognising me and running up to me, licking my face and making it wet with dog spit. I would've been really grossed out if I wasn't so happy.

'Ruby!' I said, giggling and wiping my face with my clothes. Sorry, Sebastian. I still hadn't gotten my own clothes yet so I've been wearing the biggest clothes ever. Like, I get that he's buff, but I'm pretty bulky too, if I do say so myself.

'I thought you said she was a dog. Why does she have wings?' Ariel said, doing something that looked like a silent prayer. 'She is! Well- erm, was.'

'Okay. Okay. That's fine. That's cool. It's totally not a dragon dog thing that could probably kill us all. Nope. Cool.' 'Hey! She's a she, not an it.' I said as Ruby licked me again. How could Ruby kill us? Just because she has wings and scales now doesn't mean she's gonna hurt anyone! Ariel is just being dramatic.

Ruby seemed to be limping. 'Come here, girl.' I said as she came over to me. I grabbed her paws and saw that she had some scrapes and cuts on them. Well, it's better than what happened to me.

'Wanna go back now? I'm getting cold.' Ariel said, gesturing at the sky. Damn. It was almost pitch black. Thanks a lot, history lesson. 'Yeah, let's go. Come on, Rubes.' I said, picking her up, careful not to hurt her.

Even when we got out of the magic woods and back to the house, I couldn't seem to shake the feeling of being watched.

1092 words

Published 27th Febuary 2024

#jericho williams #book #second chapter #updated version #wattpad

10 notes · View notes

jomiddlemarch · 2 months

Text

(I measure time by how a body sways)

Part II

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, with a subtle wiggle of her fingers in his general direction. His heart was still beating and he was able to let out his next breath, so she hadn’t cast a wandless curse in his direction but then, the night was young. She sounded prim, as if she were channeling McGonagall at her most Scottish schoolmarm, if you left out Minerva’s well-known appreciation for good single malt Scotch and fit young men in Quidditch gear.

“Brandy. Armagnac. From the Malfoy cellar,” he said. She gave him what could only be called a speaking look, her lips pursed. If he were not terrified and about to piss himself, he would have found it utterly adorable.

“Why?”

“Bill said you don’t like Firewhiskey,” Draco replied.

“You’d asked?”

“No, he suggested I bring something. If you agreed to meet with me,” Draco said. Bill had not implied any if, far from it, but Draco felt it was best not to have Hermione think her acceptance had been the default expectation.

“You think I’ll need a drink? To talk with you?” she said. She was less ready to take umbrage and somehow more hurt; he’d put her on the defensive, despite his best efforts. She was also tired, he could tell that from looking at her, if he hadn’t already heard it from Bill and Cosima, her assistant, who had required much placating and a box of Honeyduke’s finest filled chocolates to agree to rearrange Madam Granger’s schedule to accommodate him. “I can’t decide whether you’re suggesting I can’t cope or that I won’t want to.”

She didn’t say Or that this isn’t a professional meeting, it’s a date, an assignation. She didn’t say Or you want me tipsy, you’re heard I’m an affectionate drunk.

She most certainly did not say either of those.

He would actually have combusted or winked out of existence, he’d be busy greeting plenty of people on the other side of the Veil.

“You’re being very gracious to meet with me and I wanted you to be able to have something worth drinking, if you chose to avail yourself. I took Bill’s advice because he knows you better than I do,” Draco said. He was fudging the truth, but not terribly.

“He’s got some nerve,” Hermione said. She settled though, relaxed into her chair.

“I believe it’s the exceedingly great confidence of a man who convinced a French half-Veela to marry him,” Draco said. “You can call it nerve if you prefer.”

She laughed then, a merry sound he’d have to remember if the evening went as horribly pear-shaped as he anticipated it would. He did not have Bill’s confidence.

“What’s it about? This,” she gestured around the private room, the curtains drawn, the table between them with the brandy bottle and two fat-bottomed glasses. “Us.”

“I want to begin by saying how deeply I appreciate you granting me this time to confer, Madam Nimue Granger—”

“There’s a bottle of very good Armagnac sitting right there. You’ve known me since I was eleven. We sat through that benighted travesty of an experts panel in Ravenna with the Dante impersonator together. Call me Hermione, Draco,” she said.

“All right, Hermione,” he said.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said lightly.

“No. I suppose not,” he said.

“But what you have to tell me is. Hard, I mean. You find it difficult, you went to Bill,” she said.

“He’s good at difficult things,” Draco said.

“He is. You’re stalling,” she said, smiling a little. “Shall I promise not to hit you again?”

He laughed, suddenly, choking on it. Her brown eyes were bright, her hair pulled back from her face with some Mugglish clip, the hollow at the base of her throat delicately shadowed. He wanted to protect her but the only threat he could see was himself.

“I trust you will restrain yourself,” he said.

“But not that I won’t feel the urge,” she said, shaking her head. “Intriguing.”

“I think you’re the only person who’ll be able to understand what happened, what caused it,” he said. “I wouldn’t have come to you otherwise—”

“What is it, Draco?”

“I can’t explain it—it was nearly a fortnight ago, I woke up, and this was, it was like this,” he said, unfastening the cuff of his sleeve, rolling it up his forearm, above his elbow. Stretching his arm across the table so it was fully exposed to her view, the new brand vivid against his fair skin.

“Lumos maxima melissa,” she whispered, the words of the spell barely more than breath on her parted lips. The light in the room altered, had the diamond clarity of the operating theater and the gentle slip of a summer daybreak.

And then she took hold of his arm, her hand circling his wrist.

Draco kept breathing because it was required, but it became work, to move the air in and out as she touched him, her magic vital in her fingertips. Her gaze was focused on his arm and he understood suddenly how Harry had defeated Voldemort. He kept his head bowed, waiting for her to say something, do something.

She let go of his arm and left it resting on the table. Then she shrugged off her robe and shoved up with loose sleeve of her knitted jersey, extending her own arm beside his.

“About a fortnight ago, I woke up and it was like this,” she said.

“Fuck me,” he exclaimed, staring at her skin. There was the subtlest flicker…

“You’re not imagining things. The stars twinkle sometimes. Eltanin and Aldibain,” Hermione said. The two brightest stars in the constellation Draco, etched on her skin in the shape of the dragon, its mouth open, its body coiled and draped, Hevelius’s creature, one he’d pored over when he’d learned what his name meant. His name on her arm, if one knew how to read it, not his fox Patronus, not the purple hyacinth that meant I’m sorry.

“A fortnight, you said?”

“It must have been the same time your Dark Mark changed,” she replied. “I woke up with the most horrid headache. Couldn’t get a pain potion to even touch it, but it was gone by the end of the day.”

“You must have a theory to explain it,” Draco said.

“Not a terribly good one, since I was missing some critical data,” she said. “Are we supposed to drink the brandy now?”

“If you don’t need to look at anything in more depth—”

“I saw that scar on my own arm every day for the past fifteen years. The only difference is that it’s on your arm now. I can safely assume you’ve tried a number of charms and potions to remove it or divine its provenance. It’s still there and you came to me,” she said, sounding just as she had every time she gave a lecture to a scholarly audience she considered her peers. “I think we can have some brandy and then discuss everything.”

“Everything?” he repeated.

“You’ve met me. I don’t do things by halves. But we can pace ourselves,” she said.

“Why aren’t you more…” he trailed off.

“Upset? Angry? Freaked out? Hysterical?” she said as he shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d pick any of those words but they’re worth saying. I’m not more shocked because it was the first change that was an impossibility. Once that happened, all bets were off. And also, because it’s you.”

“It’s me,” he said. “You were offended when you thought I wanted to get you drunk—”

“That was offensive, that’s why,” she countered.

“Why does it being me make a difference?” he asked.

“First of all, it’s hard to believe that what you just said was the King’s English. Secondly, it makes it better. It makes it something I can be curious about, not horrified,” she said, pausing, looking at him with her head tilted to the side, inquisitive, lovely. “It’s not your Patronus, is it?”

“No. My Patronus is a fox. A very diffident and hard-to-coax fox,” he said.

“I didn’t think your Patronus would be a dragon. Too on the nose. It would be embarrassing with your name, to be so concrete,” she said. She glanced over at the bottle, which Draco took as his cue to open it and pour out a generous measure for them both. She let the belly of the glass warm against her palm before she took a sip. “Mmm. That’s gorgeous.”

He took a swallow from his own glass before he spoke, letting the brandy take the place of the words he’d almost uttered you’re gorgeous you’re everything.

“Are you more interested in why it happened or how?” he asked. He could make an effort to pretend their conversation was solely academic, professional, impersonal—some word that was mature and appropriate, that wasn’t about him driving her away with a confession of his feelings. It didn’t matter that Bill had said she cared for him, they could still be friends. Sitting across from her, the last thing he wanted was to see that light in her sherry brown eyes go out, her face turned away from his.

“Yes,” she said and grinned.

“Did I deserve that?” he said.

“Probably not, but you’re so bloody serious. Whatever happened, it’s not the end of the world,” she said. “We’ve both lived through that. This is nothing like. We’re sitting here, drinking brandy and we have wonky brands on our arms that involve magic we don’t understand, and it’s all right. It really and truly is.”

“You’re only trying to make me feel better,” he said.

“Is it working?” she asked.

Draco considered. Her question and the shape her lips made asking it, the arch of her eyebrows over her expressive eyes, the way she sat, her hand curved around the brandy glass. He was still in one piece as was the bottle of Armagnac, the table, the door and all the panes of glass in the windows.

“I think it must be,” he said.

“Good,” she said. She took another sip of the brandy, closed her eyes for a moment. “Did you feel anything, right before it changed?”

“I was ill the night before. Fever, chills. Tried to sleep it off,” he said.

“Fine the next day though?”

“Yes. Except that the mark wasn’t the same. I felt dizzy when I saw it, but I think it was the shock, not part of an illness or any other magical process,” he said.

“It seems unlikely that there was an infectious agent or magico-immunologic trigger, since we were nowhere near each other for a shared exposure and I can’t recall anyone around me being ill or dealing with a toxic substance,” she said.

“It’s not impossible though,” Draco said.

“No, but that doesn’t make it likely. The physical symptoms were probably associated with the magical signature alteration. The designs are quite detailed and the original enchantments were cast by a very powerful Dark wizard and witch,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said.

“What? Why?”

“For making you revisit Bellatrix torturing you. For making you remember what Voldemort did, what I did for him,” Draco said, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. Wishing he dared to toss back everything left in his glass and pour himself another. A double.

“I haven’t forgotten. You’re not making it any worse. It’s better, actually, because I’d sort of come to terms with the scar on my arm and when it changed, I felt like I didn’t have control of my body. I didn’t know why your signifier had replaced her slur,” Hermione said.

“You knew it meant me?”

“Not immediately. But there’s such a thing called a library, Draco, and I’m particularly fond of spending my time there, researching, when I’ve got a puzzle to solve,” she said. “I didn’t exactly want to tell anyone, certainly not you.”

“Not ever?” Draco said.

“Not without knowing more,” she said. She fiddled with her glass, bit her lip. “I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to ask you to meet with me. If you hadn’t asked me.”

“You’re a Gryffindor’s Gryffindor. You’re brave enough for anything,” he said.

“You say it as praise. I hear a sentence,” she said. “It’s exhausting, being brave enough for anything when no one is. Not me, not Harry. Not you.”

“No one’s ever accused me of bravery,” he said.

“Maybe you don’t talk to enough people,” she said. “Or listen to them.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he said.

“Do you know if anyone else’s Dark Mark has changed recently?” she said, returning to their ostensible reason for meeting. Draco had totally given himself over to wherever she wanted to take the conversation and was focusing on pacing himself with the brandy.

“I’m not in contact with most of the others who have one,” he said, stumbling a bit over the choice of others, not wanting to say Death Eaters, not wanting that degree of their past in the room, between them. “But I haven’t heard anything and neither had Bill.”

“Just us then,” she mused, startling him with the casual ease with which she said us.

“It would seem that way,” he replied.

“But it’s not an equal swap, is it? You have my scar, but I have your name in a rebus-esque fashion,” she said. Draco frowned. It had been quite some time since he’d been unable to understand what she was saying.

“A rebus is a Muggle puzzle,” she explained. Now she frowned, a thinking deeply frown, not an unhappy one. Draco felt obscurely pleased he knew the difference.

“Perhaps it has to do with the casters?” he offered. “Who they were or their intentions?”

“That’s an interesting angle. Not sure how we’d disambiguate it—”

“As terrible as she was, Bellatrix was not Voldemort’s peer in terms of magical power. Even before you take into account all the Dark magic he used to amplify his ability, his original reservoir was at least an order of magnitude greater than hers. Probably more like three,” Draco said.

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked.

“I’m familiar with some of what he did early on. Bellatrix did try to emulate him in all ways. She wasn’t able to sustain the majority of the spells he’d used. I found a journal she kept. She only managed about a third of them and she had more backlash from the potions than he did,” Draco said. “If he had been the one to curse you in the ballroom, at best you would have lost your arm and magic. You probably wouldn’t have survived. You would have tried to fight back, that first instant, whether you thought about it or not. Your magic would have been compelled to resist him. He would have either been amused or annoyed, but either way, he would have intensified the curse. That would have been it.”

Hermione, killed. Draco didn’t think he would have been able to make a sound then. Imagining it now, he felt the keening of his soul at the prospect, the urge to tear the very Veil itself.

“That’s…frankly, I don’t know what that is,” she said. “Daunting? An odd relief? The stuff of nightmares?”

“M’sorry,” he said, gulping down some brandy.

“It’s all right. It does make me think more about intention though. Because the Dark Mark changed after Riddle was destroyed, once it was untethered from the caster. But it didn’t kill all its bearers. It was like the spell reverted to its initial intention, without the warp Riddle put on it to make it the Dark Mark. Even so, when he branded his Death Eaters, it was supposed to be, well, I guess sort of a good thing? Joining his side. From his perspective, it was an initiation rite, a membership token. Whereas Bellatrix wanted to humiliate and hurt me,” she said.

“Yeah,” Draco said.

“Maybe it’s not to do with the casters. Maybe it’s you,” she said.

“It’s my fault?” he said.

“I didn’t say it was your fault. You might be the inflection point. Your Dark Mark changed. Your name replaced my scar. Maybe we don’t need to overthink it. It’s about you,” she said. As if it were good news, an answer she’d been hoping to discover.

“Me,” he said.

“Something changed in you, something that involved your magic. Something significant enough to overwrite the Dark Mark and to alter my scar, perhaps because you were there when I got it. Or because of the Black lineage,” Hermione said.

“I did something and you have to deal with the consequences. Again,” he said.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But you say consequences like it’s a bad thing. Like I wouldn’t prefer having a beautiful constellation with twinkling stars appear on my arm instead of a disgusting slur that never stopped hurting carved into me by a mass murderer,” she replied.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better,” he said. She’d do that, however sincere she sounded.

“If you do, that’s great. I’m telling you how I feel. I feel better. Given the chance, I’d have chosen this,” she said.

“You felt sick when it happened,” he pointed out.

“For a day. I was in the infirmary after Dolohov cursed me for a solid three weeks, dosed to the gills with potions Snape had to brew specially and an anti-emetic to keep them down, since they all tasted vile,” she said.

“I didn’t know that,” he said.

“What happened to you? What changed?” she asked. He sat there, silent, without a clue where to begin. She frowned, thinking, clearly impatient with him or doubting that he’d ever come up with anything helpful.

“The Dark Mark represents your greatest regret,” she said. “It used to be the cabinet, right?”

“Yes.”

“And now it’s my scar,” she said. “You regret what—witnessing me being tortured? Me being hurt? Not being able to do anything to stop it? Ever saying that word?”

“Yes. All of it. All of it, Hermione,” he said.

“You regret it more than bringing Death Eaters into Hogwarts?” she asked, her eyes steady upon him. There was a curious lack of condemnation in her expression and tone, as if she might understand.

“I do,” he said.

“Why?”

There was no universe where she didn’t ask the question, no timeline, no reality he could ever inhabit. She was Hermione Granger and she would always want to know.

“You know why,” he said. “You must—”

“I need to hear it. From you,” she said.

“I’m in love with you,” he said. “When I understood that, that’s when it changed.”

To her credit and earning his everlasting gratitude, Hermione did not toss back the rest of her brandy. In fact, she didn’t touch the glass at all. She kept looking at him. If she had been a Legilimens, she would have been inside his mind in an instant; he could not have Occluded to save her life, let alone his.

“When?”

“Hogwarts—”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“Let me explain. When we went back to Hogwarts, to talk to the students. When you told me you were sorry. When you said they’d let me go hang. After everything, you saw that in me now and said something. I’d already liked you, so much, I’d already wanted you, but that was when I knew I loved you, that I’d fallen in love with you. I’m sorry—”

“You’re sorry?” she said.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, I’m sorry for burdening you with this, my emotions, when you don’t want it and you’ll feel compelled to be gracious. Or you’ll be embarrassed, you won’t feel we can be friends any longer, because I’ve put this between us and it can’t be undone. I don’t regret loving you, I regret having to tell you, when you don’t—”

“You’re awfully sure of how I feel for someone who has not asked me. Unless you dosed the brandy with Veritaserum. If you have, I have to tell you that it’s a Class 2 offense and also that I found a prototype antidote potion recipe among Snape’s things and I finished it off, so that won’t affect me,” she said. She was less prickly than she had been a minute ago. In fact, she was smiling her little superior swot smile he’d once found insanely provoking and now adored for being a glimpse of the girl she’d once been.

“You finished it off?” he said.

“That’s the part you want to focus on?” she replied. “Not the asking me how I feel? Fine. Snape’s first draft was solid, but he didn’t account—”

“I’m scared. To ask you,” Draco said. There was his act of bravery, his Gryffindor declaration: he was a coward.

“Why?” she asked and it was clear she wasn’t taking offense or taking the piss or getting ready to smack him. Her forefinger traced the round curve of the brandy glass and she was waiting for him to answer, wanting him to explain himself.

“Because you’re honest when it counts the most,” he said.

To his surprise, she laughed.

“Another time, I’ll let you know all the ways that statement has been disproved, but I appreciate the…aspiration of it. I’m flattered,” she said.

“I wasn’t trying to flatter you,” he replied.

“I know. I know you mean I won’t lie to you about how I feel and I won’t. Not to you. Not now and not about this,” she said. “It’s only, you should know that in another circumstance, I’d say whatever I thought I needed to. Right now, what I think I need, what you need, is for me to be direct—”

“I don’t want to lose your friendship,” he interrupted.

“You won’t,” she said. “Telling me you’re in love with me won’t make me stop being your friend. I like you, Draco.”

“All right,” he said. He sounded crestfallen even to himself, when he should have been overjoyed that he hadn’t made her walk out, curse him or throw the expensive brandy in his face. “That’s fine then, that’s more than enough—"

“I care about you,” she said.

“As a friend,” he said. He’d moved on to sullen. She smiled, tilted her head to the side. The stars twinkled on her arm.

“As a friend. And more than a friend,” she said.

“You don’t have to say that,” he replied.

“I know I don’t. Except I do, because it’s true. And lying to you doesn’t suit my needs,” she said. “It’s a dreadful relief, that your Dark Mark changed. I was going to have to glamour Bellatrix’s curse back onto my arm around you and I can’t tell you how much that would have annoyed me, but I couldn’t let you see your name on my skin, could I?”

“Um, no?”

“It wouldn’t have taken you but a second to see what it was. To recognize your name. It would have been the most embarrassing declaration of affection I could imagine or at least I’d have tried to convince you it was just some magical excrescence.”

“Some magical excrescence?”

“See, you never would have believed it. Maybe if Luna said something like that, but me? It would have been horribly awkward and now, it’s not,” she said, finishing up rather pertly, as if she were tying a bow on a gift.

“You care about me as more than a friend,” he said, testing it out.

“That sounds quite roundabout, doesn’t it?” she said. “Shall I make it sound better?”

He nodded.

“I love you,” she said. “I’m in love with you. You are also a good friend. Better?”

He nodded again. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks pink. She’d barely touched the brandy. He shook his head and she frowned.

“No?”

“It would be better without this bloody table between us,” he said.

She laughed, turned her palm upwards and flicked her fingers slightly, murmured Mitto adte and then she was sitting in his lap; she might have tumbled off except he’d instantly wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer.

“That wasn’t an Apparition,” he said because it didn’t seem polite to simply start snogging the living daylights out of her.

“No, I found a way to do a reverse-Accio on a person,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to use it.”

“I believe you found it,” he said and then it didn’t seem polite not to start kissing her. One could say what one would about him, but he’d been raised with exquisite manners.

#dramione #second chapter #hermione x draco #draco POV #post-hogwarts #canon au #epilogue what epilogue #love confessions #Draco is SUFFERING #Hermione creates new spells #laps are sat upon #romance #angst #the dark mark

10 notes · View notes