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serverusslaype · 7 months

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Shameless, pt. 7

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

omg hi guys… this chapter was so long and hard to write (that’s what she said), I got stuck many times, but here it is!! It’s definitely not my favourite chapter so.. it was sort of a filler one, just to establish some information and plot sort of thing. The next chapter will be a little more interesting because we will be starting Prisoner of Azkaban woooo!!

Okay. So here is part 7, don’t kill me. It’s kinda long again, almost as long as part 5, if not longer!!

LETSAGOOO!!

The crack in your curtains caused a stream of bright, blinding sunlight to stir you awake; a raspy and throaty groan bubbling in your throat as the pounding pain of an alcohol-induced headache began to stab at your temples. Nothing better than a hangover, right?

Another strangled groan left your lips as you rolled over in your bed, your arm falling out from underneath the covers. As quick as lightning, you tucked it back in once the cool and chilly breeze began to nip at it. You cracked open your eyes, noticing that you'd left your window open during the night, and you'd hardly even bothered to draw your curtains properly. You slapped your hands against your face as you tried to wrack your brain for any indication as to how the hell you ended up like this. Gods, did you get blackout drunk? It certainly felt like it...

A stab of pain struck your chest as you remembered Snape ordering you to get out of his office late yesterday afternoon. You quickly skipped past that memory with a soft yet strained sigh and found yourself with Hagrid in a forest. Ah yes, you went to go see Buckbeak after bumping into the groundskeeper. You continued to think back, soon finding the culprit of your hangover. In your mind, you were currently sat in Hagrid's hut, your fingers wrapped tightly around a goblet of Elven wine.

Oh, yes, you thought, wincing slightly as the memory of the two of you drinking at least two, possibly three, bottles of it together. You unwillingly sat up in your very messy bed, your hair sticking out in all sorts of directions. You groaned again, squeezing your eyes shut as you slipped out of it and stumbled towards your window and braced yourself for a moment before ripping them open.

"Fuck!" You croaked out, stumbling back as the blinding light broke through. It was like someone had just chucked a flashbang grenade in your room. Your eyes burned and you felt like shoving your head down a very dark hole. Wait, what time was it?

Quickly throwing a glance to your right and checking the clock on your wall, you sighed in slight relief, noticing it was around ten in the morning. Perhaps it was time to go for a walk to clear your head - more to subside the throbbing that was currently attacking it.

Strolling down the corridors, you were rather keen to get outside and breathe in the fresh air; the thought of it made your body tingle. Considering it was Winter break now, you had opted to wear a casual, below-the-knee dress. It was a deep forest green, almost emerald. The sleeves reached your wrists and it had an elegant and square neckline that showed off your collarbones. The skirt was circular, so, if and when you twirled around, the skirt would flare outwards.

Nearing the corner, your eyes flicked to a darker, unlit corridor, a rush of unpinpointable dread suddenly surging through your body. You immediately stopped in your tracks at the uncomfortable feeling and turned towards it, narrowing your eyes. You couldn't figure out why your body had reacted so unusually to the darkened corridor. You stared for a few more moments before walking away, glancing at it confusedly as you passed by. It was probably just your hangover-induced anxiety making things up in your head.

As you rounded the corner that would take you to the stairs down to the ground floor, your eyes were immediately met with a dark, harrowing pair that you had come to adore - regretfully, might you add. You froze in your spot, unsure of what to do or say. It felt like someone had just cast Petrificus Totalus on your body. You swallowed harshly as Snape's eyes stared back at you, obviously in the same predicament. Neither of you said anything. In all honesty, you were too hungover to deal with this.

It felt like someone had stolen the air from Severus's lungs the moment he laid his eyes on your tired form. Seeing you dressed in such a beautiful, elegant emerald dress made it hard for him to breathe normally. Last night, when you tried to kiss him, that didn't make it any easier on him. It took all of his strength to step away from you. He wanted to kiss you, obviously, but he didn't want it to happen like that. Not that it could, anyway. With Snape's vast, traumatic and dangerous history, he couldn't put you in harms way because of his emotions. He wouldn't allow it. He couldn't bear to see you die, you didn't deserve that, and he didn't deserve you.

As another several seconds of silence passed, Snape seemed to ground himself. His posture straightened, and he resumed his dramatic walk to continue stepping past you. He pushed his distracting thoughts of you to the side of his mind, his eyes tearing away from you and staring straight ahead as if he hadn't just spent the past couple of seconds staring at you like you were the most beautiful being he'd ever laid his godforsaken eyes on. In fact, he acted like you were never there at all. As he passed right by you, your lips twitched and your eyes began to burn again. Gods, you hated how easily he could influence your emotions with a singular action. You stood still in your place, balling your fists in an act of silent rage, sucking in a shaky breath with a muffled sob; your teeth biting down unbearably hard on your bottom lip in a weak attempt to hide your cries.

You were suddenly wishing you'd never returned to Hogwarts, even though it was your lifelong dream the second you walked through those doors. The only thought on your mind right now was Hagrid, and even then you were doubtful his happy energy could cheer you up. You thought it was also rather selfish to come running to the man the second you were in tears. He wasn't your stuffed animal that you cried into each night. However, you could really do with his presence right now, so you pushed those thoughts aside, for now.

So, there you were, rushing off down the stairs; the clacking of your heels echoing throughout the stairwell like a choir singing in an empty cathedral. You found yourself running the second you reached the outside, your lungs burning from the way you were breathing so raggedly. The cold breeze had never felt so good against your skin, and you dared to say it felt more comforting than when Snape had taken your hand when you offered him a dance in his office two nights ago.

Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks now, your fingers flying up to wipe them away in an aggressive, careless fashion. Hagrid's hut was coming into view as you continued to run across the dull green grass, specks of wet mud and soil painting your shoes and ankles. As you reached the crookedly built hut, you slowed down and bent over with your hands on your knees, waiting for a moment to catch your breath. Perhaps some more exercise would do you good.

Suddenly, you heard the creaking of Hagrid's door opening. "Oh, 'ello, Y/N," Hagrid said happily, a surprised smile painting his face as he stared down at you. Though, he quickly noticed you weren't okay. "Are ya cryin' again?..." He questioned softly, noticing the way you slowly leant upwards, your eyes puffy and red once again. Hagrid looked at you with such sympathetic eyes that you were worried he was going to set you off crying again.

"No," you lied as your voice broke and went up an octave, your fingers rushing up to grab the bridge of your nose. "...Yes." A frustrated sigh left your lips.

"D'ya wanna talk abou' it?" Hagrid asked cautiously, his eyes searching you for an answer. You hesitated for moment, debating whether to pour your heart out to him - to tell him how much grief Severus Snape, of all people, was causing you. He wouldn't believe you for a second.

"Err, I don't think you'd believe me." You laughed dryly, your heart twisting into a conflicted knot as you thought about the raven-haired Potion Master.

"Try me." Hagrid tilted his head at you gently. You scrunched your nose up at him and swallowed. This was going to be a long and tiresome conversation.

That was the last day that you could remember running to Hagrid in tears, which was around a week ago now. You'd told him as much as you could without making yourself seem like a complete fool, however, you weren't exactly convinced - despite Hagrid's multiple promises - that he didn't view you as one now. Having feelings for the most emotionally inept, cold and ruthless wizard at Hogwarts was not an easy feat, and you wished things were different for you. Perhaps if you were a tough, brave Gryffindor or a sly, witty Slytherin, you'd be able to handle it. However, your little Hufflepuff heart was at the end of it's tether and Snape's nonchalant and cruel words were starting to chip away at the walls you'd built around it to protect it from even more harm.

You were a little late to dinner this evening, and so you didn't have much of a choice in seating. The last chair available was the one next to Snape, and you were incredibly tempted to just leave it for the night, however, your stomach was gurgling like a mad baby as you had skipped lunch earlier to catch up on some grading. You pursed your lips and silently cursed yourself for such a silly choice. Biting down on the bullet, you sucked in a deep breath. With one foot forwards, you began to pad towards the empty chair, placing your hand on the back of it to draw it outwards, purposefully creating an ear-piercing screeching noise to piss off Snape. It undoubtedly worked, as a whirl of petty pride settled in your bones as his head snapped up to look at you, his eyes piercing you with a deadly glare.

"Apologies," You said in a low tone, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. You sat yourself down, not bothering to look at him.

"Perhaps you should be sitting with the students," Snape said bitterly, glancing to the tables in front of you, "considering you're willing to act so childish." There was a bite at the end of his words, his voice spiked with irritation.

"I think you'd suit them better, Severus." You replied, gritting your teeth, still avoiding his eyes.

"You must be deluded to think that." He scoffed at you, his lips turning downwards into a cruel sneer.

"Going to tell me to leave again?" You bit back at him. Snape's head snapped towards you again. Clearly that comment got underneath his skin.

"Going to barge into my office again, when you were clearly unwanted and unwelcome?" Snape's lip twitched as he stared at you, his deep, cold voice penetrating you like a spear. It was your turn to be hurt. You felt your heart twist and your eyes burn at his words.

You let your eyes fall to your hands for a moment, wallowing in your hurt. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, and spoke once more.

"I pity you." Was all you said, voice quiet and timid. In your head, you were trying to win the unwavering war against the tears forming in your eyes. Gods, you loathed how emotional you were sometimes. Wouldn't life be so much fucking easier if you were a sociopath? Psychopath, maybe? You suddenly found yourself envying the unfeeling and socially-detached dark witches and wizards that caused havoc amongst the wizarding world.

No, life would probably be easier if weren't so hung up on such a cold-blooded man.

"That is rather comical," Snape said, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "Do you remember that night I found you inebriated in the corridors?" You turned towards him, that familiar rush of butterflies exploding in your stomach as your eyes met his for the first time tonight. You hated and loved the feeling. It was like a drug to you, a highly illegal one at that.

You were quiet, a blush burning into your cheeks as you and Severus continued to stare into each other's eyes, silently playing a game of Chicken. Snape stared at you, scrutinising you. His taunting tone had caught your attention, and it scared you. Had you done something so stupid that night to force him into pretending like you didn't exist again?

"Of course you don't." He sneered at your lack of an answer, his unbrushed hair falling to the left a tad as he tilted his head at you in a condescending fashion. "Too busy indulging in your own selfish pleasures with that gigantic oaf that dwells with the creatures in the Forbidden Forest. Fitting, really, wouldn't you say?"

Your mouth fell open at the way he'd insulted Hagrid, and you really could not believe what you had just heard. "Excuse me?" You scoffed.

"Need I repeat myself?" Snape grunted, his fingers flying up to massage the bridge of his nose in irritation. Your brows furrowed in utter confusion and partial anger at him. You'd let him insult you, but insulting anyone else that you held dear to you was crossing the line.

"Why must you be so rude and horrible at times, Severus? You were so different in your office that night," you sighed exasperatedly, "You were a totally different person." You added quietly, your voice soft. Snape shut his eyes for a couple seconds, his brows slowly furrowing together, silently fending off his emotions that were dying to break through.

"That night was a mistake. You never should have come." Snape spat. Your eyes widened in shock at his words, and you could almost hear the crack that split your heart in two. Did he really just say that to your face? He really... felt that way? That night when the two of you crossed a line, he thought it was a mistake, something to forget about; to dismiss like it was nothing. How could he possibly think that? You saw the way he looked at you, and you had been sure that there was something more between the two of you. The way he held you so softly and tenderly had almost cemented it for you. And now he was saying it wasn't real.

"Don't say that." You clenched your jaw, biting back your emotions. "That night meant something to me, even if you told me to leave prematurely."

"That's a pity, then, Y/N, because it did not mean anything to me." Snape hissed at you. He was mocking you and his voice grew colder and more ruthless by the second. Something changed within him, and it was breaking your heart. The two of you had been fine before that night- fuck, was this your fault? Your chest tightened at his knife-like words and you felt like crying again.

"That's not true." You said softly, grasping at straws to keep your emotions in check.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Severus seethed. He looked furious now. His eyes were merciless, and the dent between his brows had deepened tremendously as he frowned at you. As you stared at him, you saw no flicker of a feeling nor emotion on his face. He was cold. Unmoving. Maybe he had just accepted your hand that night to appease you. Merlin, did he do that out of pity? Another wave of anger and embarrassment seeped into your balled fists.

You didn't reply, you didn't even want to give him the time of day after that conversation. That seemed to have settled it for you. Snape did not feel the same way as you did for him, and you needed to move on. You were only going to cause yourself more hurt if you didn't.

The first day of Spring at Hogwarts had finally sprung, and the grass had shifted from a dull green to a rather vibrant green. Beautiful shoots of pastel-coloured flowers began to appear along the pathways to and from the castle, painting the once dreary-looking area bright. As much as you thought the season of Winter could be beautiful at times, nothing compared to Spring. You adored the flowers that bloomed, and the influx of little insects and creatures that began to buzz busily around the fauna. On the way back to your classes, you'd found yourself bending down to sniff the greenery; a pleasant, soft floral fragrance filling your nose and heart with joy. If you hadn't been able to become a Herbologist, a Florist would have been your second choice for sure. Plants, flowers and anything herby made you happy.

Currently, you were hurrying yourself back to the greenhouse, and you were running a little late after having a pleasant conversation with Minerva in the hallway. You reached the greenhouse just in time, albeit a little out of breath after running to make up the time lost.

"Sorry I'm a little late," You announced to the class, panting and smiling a little apologetically. "How is everyone today?" You asked, standing in front of the table that you had fallen asleep on all those months ago whilst tending to the Mandrakes. Your stomach tied itself into an anxious knot as memories of you and Snape in his classroom brewing the Mandrake Restorative Draught began to replay like a broken record within your mind. It was a bittersweet feeling, and you were rather unhappy at the reaction your body was having to the thought of him.

A chorus of 'good' and 'okay' broke through the silence, and you nodded softly, your smile widening as you glanced at the students. "Lovely," you said, sighing, "So-"

"Professor, why is there a note from Professor Snape here?" Draco Malfoy voiced inquisitively, holding up a piece of parchment. As Draco spoke his name, your stomach dropped. The sunlight shone through it, revealing Severus's ridiculously neat handwriting, sending a knife through your heart. You clenched your jaw and paused for a moment. Why did he have to be everywhere you looked? Everything was tainted with him, and you hated it.

"Erm," You stumbled. Blinking rapidly, you walked over to where Draco was and took it from his pinched fingers, your eyes scanning over the piece of paper repeatedly.

'Y/N,

Keeping to my promise, I've left this note to let you know that I have kindly borrowed an ounce of aconite.

Severus.'

Your breathing hitched at the sight, and it suddenly felt like you could either faint, or scream; you could not tell. You didn't believe he would truly remember your request all that time ago, yet here you were, reading that exact thing. The two of you hadn't spoken much - barely, if anything - and you thought you'd healed from this fucking mess. Clearly, from your body's reaction, that was a delusional lie that you had wholeheartedly believed. Your fingers and toes were tingling with pins and needles and it was sending you into a frenzy.

"Professor?" Draco's curious, yet worried voice pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced up at the boy, a blank expression on your face.

"Yes?"

"What's Professor Snape doing leaving you little love notes?" He quipped teasingly, an amused glint twinkling in his blue eyes.

"Excuse me?" You said quietly, in complete disbelief that he had just uttered those words.

"Well, it seems a little perso-" You cut him off before he could finish.

"Detention, Malfoy," You interrupted him, physically unable to hear more about it. The whole class was now staring at you, and you could feel your heart start to beat faster once more; a sign of anxiety. This was very out of character for you, and they all knew it. Something wasn't right. "This evening."

Almost immediately, Draco scoffed at your announcement, clearly stating his disagreement with it. "What, why?!"

"Do not push me today, Mr Malfoy." You said sternly and Malfoy silenced himself, a little shocked at your unusual authoritative tone. You looked back down at the note in your hand, your eyes tracing over every letter that Snape had elegantly scribed. Some of the students had silently deduced that your change in persona was perhaps to do with Snape.

Gods, you could not believe this. Who does he think he is to suddenly start leaving notes? Why is he doing this now? You didn't need this, you didn't want this anymore, and yet he had dug up your feelings once more like a dead body at the graveyard. All those weeks thinking you were done feeling something for him was a lie.

You angrily shoved the note in a drawer to your left and sighed heavily, walking back to the head of the table. A look of shock had found itself on the faces of your class, and you instantly felt guilty. The thought of paying the Bat a visit slipped into your head, and it twisted your guts. You'd only tell him it wasn't necessary anymore to leave notes, but you were so persistent before about it, you'd only make yourself look like a weak fool, and that was one thing you were not going to do in front of Snape.

"I apologise, I'm just having a bad day." You mumbled, closing your eyes for a moment to recoup your brain. "If we could all just... behave well today, I'd really appreciate it. I'll even take back your detention, Mr Malfoy." You added, glancing at the platinum-haired boy. His eyes lit up at the sound of losing his detention you'd angrily assigned him.

"Alright, let's begin, shall we? You'll be learning about Fluxweed and it's properties and uses."

As time went on, more and more notes began to appear in your greenhouse. You and Snape hadn't spoken since that late Winter evening in the Great Hall when you were late to dinner. He'd clearly shown what he thought of you, so, you were completely confused as to why he was putting in the effort to leave all of these notes. If he hated you so much, wouldn't he just not tell you he'd taken things to further piss you off? You felt like he was doing it on purpose to torment you.

You'd let his notes pile up and gather dust in your drawer, some of them crumpled up when you'd lost your temper and broken down in tears in your greenhouse, upset and heartbroken by the tainted relationship you had with Snape. You wished things were not as they were. Gods, the pain that seared through you each time you locked eyes with the man was unbearable. Be it in the hallways, the corridors, or the Great Hall across the dining table, he'd truly broken you, whether it was intentional or unintentional. You were ruined.

Were you really that fucked up in the head that a man like him was the only man you desired so badly? Why couldn't you just move on from him? You'd begged and prayed to the gods above, day and night, to free you from his chains, but they didn't listen. Each long and tearful night, you wondered what you did to deserve this suffering. There was nothing quite fucking worse than unrequited love.

The thought of going to tell Snape to stop sending the notes and just to take what he wanted without telling you circled around in your mind almost twenty-four-seven hours a day. Each time you were about to do it, you'd back out. You couldn't backtrack like that, you dreaded the thought of him thinking you weak; that was one thing you would not do.

All verbal communication that was considered chit chat or small talk between you and Snape had ceased to exist by the time Summer rolled around. You had to distance yourself from him if you wanted to move on. You were hurting. Terribly. All you wanted to do was talk to him, or even just be around him, but it wasn't fair on you, let alone the fact that he probably didn't even want to talk to you anyway - the last words he spoke to you said it all. The only thing left that could be considered 'communication' between you two was the notes he'd scribble down each time he visited your greenhouse, and each time you found them, you found yourself numb to the pain that pricked at your skin each time your eyes skimmed over his stupidly perfect handwriting.

Not completely numb, but numb enough.

Tonight was the last night at Hogwarts until September. On one hand, you couldn't wait to leave and be free of your grief for a month and a half, and on the other hand, you were dreading it. Part of you was screaming at you to stay and fix things with Snape, and the other part was crying to you, telling you that you had to leave, and that it was true he felt nothing for you. You thought back to the beginning of the year when things weren't tainted and completely fucked. It was heart-wrenching to reminisce on those days. It almost brought you to tears thinking about the time you and Snape had got along during the Duelling Club, when he was almost beaming with pride after watching you dominate Lockhart. From then on, he was hooked with you, but you'd never know that.

For Snape, he was dreading the Summer without seeing you. He'd absolutely fucking hated the past few months. The only thing that kept him going through until the end of the year was seeing glimpses of you around the castle. If he was honest with himself, he deeply regretted kicking you out of his office that night. That was when it all went to shit. He'd fallen victim to his fear again, choosing the selfish, easy way out. Perhaps he'd be happy with you right at this current moment if he just let you stay. Perhaps he'd be kissing you right now, holding you impossibly close to his body, embracing you and breathing in your addicting scent. Perhaps the two of you would even be spending the Summer break together.

Merlin, how did he fuck up this bad? It was too late to take anything back now, that's what he thought, at least. He'd deemed your relationship dead, unrevivable. He'd truly messed up.

"At last, the school year has come to an end," Dumbledore's old, wise voice boomed through the Great Hall as he stood at his golden Owl Lecturn. All of the students and staff were listening intently. However, you found yourself looking at someone entirely different. "This year has been challenging for all, and I hope we can all take some well-learned lessons home with us for the Summer, to come back refreshed and ready for the next year here at Hogwarts." Was the last thing Dumbledore said before you zoned out into a daydream.

Your eyes were glued to Severus, lingering on his features that you'd grown to adore and loathe. You hated him at this current moment, but Merlin, you couldn't deny how handsome he was. The way his dark, black shoulder-length hair framed his long and pale face was like an art piece. You let your eyes travel down to his shoulders, your mind growing hazy and distracted as you began to think how it'd feel to touch him again, your fingers running through his hair as he pressed his lips against your neck, his hot breath tickling your sensitive and bare skin. You'd have your chest pressed flush against his as he worshipped your body with precise skill, working it like he'd known it for a thousand years.

On the other hand, you wanted to scream at him, curse him for the rest of his life, just for the cruel way he'd treated you during this year at Hogwarts.

Your provocative fantasy came to a crashing halt when Hagrid leant down to whisper in your ear.

"Yer starin', Y/N." He mumbled awkwardly, eyes still attached to Dumbledore. You blushed furiously, slightly embarrassed that Hagrid, of all people, had caught you mentally undressing and eye-fucking Snape. He was the one you had confided in the past months, so he knew how you felt about Severus - every single emotion.

Apart from one.

"Oh," You cleared your throat, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the Potions Master. Deep down, you were unsure you'd ever fully move on from Severus, it just didn't feel... right.

"Thought ya hated 'im." Hagrid mumbled again, a hint of teasing in his tone, but he kept his voice low as Dumbledore spoke.

"I... it's complicated." You sighed quietly, taking a risk and glancing at Severus again. Your heart dropped slightly when he wasn't looking back at you. You shouldn't be surprised, nor disappointed. "I just can't wait to get out of here for the Summer."

And just like that, Dumbledore announced the end of the year. You couldn't help but smile the moment the Victorian house came into view as you Apparated from Hogsmeade to Windsor. Being back home at your humble abode in Berkshire sent a feeling of relief and peace through you. It almost felt like the past year's travesties hadn't even happened. When not teaching, you lived in a quaint cottage in the Windsor countryside. It was set down a quiet lane, overlooking the historic and iconic Windsor castle in the distance; a field of horses and summer flowers sat opposite it. It was rather dreamy, and you were incredibly thankful to your late grandmother for leaving it to you in her will. The house was built with red bricks, adorned with a pretty, white trim set around the triangular rooves. Vibrant green fauna decorated the edges of the large windows, almost framing it like a photograph.

Your favourite part of the house was the garden. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small and it was perfect for just you. Bushes upon bushes of roses and lilies lined the edges, and your heart warmed at the sight of the bees buzzing around them all. With a strained sigh, you walked into the cottage, the familiar smell of candles and fresh lilies hitting your nose. It was a refreshing change from the usual dusty and musky smell of Hogwarts.

As you walked into your living room and dining room, you couldn't help but feel a little pang of sadness shoot through your chest. You'd imagined yourself here with Severus a couple of times, eating breakfast early in the morning, watching the sunrise as it gently woke the world up with it's warm, amber rays. And suddenly, all over again, you were a mess. You let yourself cry. You didn't hold them back, nor bottle them up. The fear of being caught had disappeared. You were alone.

As the tears rolled down your cheeks, your body began to feel hot; anger and frustration bubbling within your chest. Everything that you'd held to yourself at work was starting to crumble and fall, collapsing all around you like ash. Your eyes burned like a fire in a furnace as you squeezed them so tightly shut, silently begging for this pain to be over. You balled your fists, your nails leaving a painful imprint on your palms as you released them with a strangled gasp, your sobs becoming uncontrollable as your mind began to torture you with the memories of the past year.

'Have you no brain?' Taunted Snape, his lips curling into a disapproving sneer. You remember the way your heart beat pounded relentlessly as he leaned in towards you, his squinting eyes piercing you like a needle into a balloon.

'You are still that silly girl who did not think before she spoke.' He'd chastised, sending you into a small fit of rage.

'Lockhart came to me,' You'd said after he accused you of being nosy in other people's problems. 'Poor choice, clearly.' He'd replied bitterly, glaring down at you.

'Severus, you may call me Severus.' He said calmly, earning a surprised frown from you. The moment you broke through to him, and he'd finally accepted you as a colleague - nothing more, nothing less.

'Nicely done.' He'd muttered to you, his face proud but muted, as you'd defeated Lockhart in a duel. You were sure there was something else lingering in those eyes that day, but you could never put your finger on it.

'I wasn't the best student for you,' you'd laughed softly in his classroom, stirring the Mandrake Draught. 'No, but you weren't the worst.' Snape had replied with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

'Don't believe anything that gloomy bat says,' Madam Pomfrey's stern voice suddenly echoed in your mind.

You were thinking back to the moment you had caught Severus's eyes in the Great Hall when Dumbledore was acknowledging your tremendous help with the Mandrake Restorative Draught. He was gazing at you proudly, a small yet hesitant smile upon his lips.

Then, your most cherished memory with Snape flooded your mind. You felt more tears begin to pour from your puffy, reddened eyes as you reminisced in your living room.

'Dance with me?' You'd asked quietly amongst the hammering of your nervous heart, as the slow and melancholic rock song played softly in the background, holding out your hand for Snape to take a hold of. He'd taken your soft hand in his cold, calloused one, and you pulled him slowly to the middle of the room. You remembered how nervous yet happy you were, the way your eyes sparkled with silent joy as you stared up at Severus, his other hand settling safely on your waist. The two of you relished in each other's company, swaying slowly, side to side, gradually breaking down the highly impenetrable guard that he'd had up.

It broke your heart all over again, as his harsh, sudden words pierced your ears.

'Get out.' Snape had ordered, taking you by surprise.

You had been so close. So close to finally breaking into his walls, and at the last moment, he'd built them all up again, double the defences.

Tomorrow was a new day, and you'd deemed it a good time to take your mind off of everything. You needed to get out of your house. It was sending you into a fucking frenzy. So, you chose to Apparate to London - more specifically The Leaky Cauldron. Okay, it was a terrible idea, but you just needed to see other people - people you didn't know, and people that... Severus didn't know.

So here you were, standing outside of the pub, hesitant on entering. You were getting cold feet. Maybe you should just go to Diagon Alley instead, and browse the pretty shops filled with artifacts, wands, fresh smelling books and magical sweets. In all honesty, that sounded more enthralling than sitting in a dim pub, nursing a mug of whiskey.

As you were about to turn on your heel and head to Diagon Alley, a weirdly familiar voice called your name.

"Y/N?" You frowned, your head turning slightly to find the source. It was a man for sure, and it was ridiculously familiar. Shit, where have you heard that voice before? "Y/N L/N?"

You spun on your heels, your eyes almost popping out of your head as no one other than Benjamin fucking Bluewater stood in front of you. He wasn't that weaselly, little nuisance anymore. No, no, he'd grown. And grown like hell he had. He stood at least six feet tall, a five o'clock shadow peppering his rather well-defined jawline and mouth. His dark hair was no longer styled in an embarrassing bowl-cut, it was thick and pushed back, accentuating his strong forehead, and prominent cheekbones. You found yourself blushing whilst looking at him.

"Holy shit, Benjamin Bluewater?" You gasped, shaking your head lightly at him in disbelief. A million-dollar grin broke out on his face. Good lord, you thought, he'd really changed...

"The one and only." Bluewater chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets bashfully.

"You look... great." You were speechless. This could not be happening. Your heart was pounding so fast that you genuinely could not comprehend anything. Merlin, were you dreaming?

"As do you, Y/N." He grinned at you again, sending goosebumps up your arms. His eyes flicked from yours to the Leaky Cauldron behind you, and he gestured towards the pub with a nod. "It's been a long time, would you like to, err, grab a drink or something? It'd be nice to catch up." Benjamin smiled politely at you. Shit, what the hell, why the hell not? Fuck it.

"I'd love to." You returned his smile, shrugging your shoulders gently. Benjamin's smile grew into a grin as he placed a gentlemanly hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the pub.

"So, what's new with you, then?" Benjamin asked, his eyes flicking over your reddening face. You swallowed nervously, laughing.

"Erm, well, I'm working at Hogwarts as a professor." You replied nonchalantly as the two of you strolled to the bar area.

"Are the professors that taught us still there?" He asked curiously, showing genuine interest in what you were saying. It was nice for once. Severus was so scarce with that.

"Yes," You laughed lightly, though you winced slightly at Snape passed through your mind. "McGonagall, Flitwick, Dumbledore, Hagrid... all of them are still there." You avoided his name.

"Is that grumpy git Snape still there?" Bluewater questioned, his face twisting into a expression of distaste as he glanced at the barkeep. A small ripple of sadness washed over you, you knew Snape wasn't a favourite with the students, but he wasn't exactly a bad... no, no, he was a terrible person, you corrected yourself. We are no doing that right now.

"Yeah." You nodded, pursing your lips.

"He was a bastard, always had it out for me." Benjamin tutted. You winced a little at his words. You might have a tainted relationship with Snape, but you still cared deeply for him, and it hurt you when people spoke badly about him, no matter what he did.

"Well, I doubt your pranks did you any good." You quipped playfully, trying to lighten the mood. A mischievous grin spread across Benjamin's sculpted face. You felt your knees tingle.

"I was an arsehole in school, I'll admit that. I don't know how I survived Hogwarts, honestly." A hearty laugh left Benjamin's lips. "I bet it's a pain working with that schmuck." He added bitterly, ordering two bottles of cider for the two of you.

"Yeah," You laughed awkwardly, glancing away for a moment, tears pricking your eyes a tad. You hated how your heart ached at the way Benjamin insulted Severus. "He's... well, he's Snape, you know what he's like." You finished quickly, desperate to change the subject. "What are you up to now? Something fancy surely?"

"I wouldn't say fancy, I just work at the Ministry." Bluewater shrugged nonchalantly, taking a swig of his cider as he handed you the other bottle. "I'm the Junior Undersecretary." He said, staring at you, almost like he was waiting for a reaction. Your eyebrows raised a little at how casually he admitted that.

"Oh, really? Wow, that's... wow, I really did not expect that." You said honestly, a little shocked at his confession.

"You didn't expect that?" He repeated, laughing, taking another swig.

"Well, no, not after how you were in school, Benjamin!" You scoffed, grinning.

"Ben," he corrected you, smiling, "Benjamin is too formal. Feels like I'm talking to my mother." Another laugh left your lips. Well, his charming and comedic personality certainly hadn't changed, that was for sure.

"Alright, Ben," You smiled coyly, eyeing the small peek of skin poking out from his unbuttoned shirt. You flicked your eyes back up to him, and he tilted his head at you. "Being the Junior Undersecretary, does that mean you've met the Minister for Magic?"

"Only a couple times."

"What's he like?" You asked, sipping on your cider, prompting Ben to lean in towards you. Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden close proximity.

"Between you and me, a bit of a delusional man." He whispered, his brown eyes gazing a little too deep into yours. For a split second, you were transported back to the times you and Severus were at each other's throats in the corridors of Hogwarts. You cheeks flushed at the thought, and you quickly pushed it to the side, your body stiffening.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, the man's bound to go insane any day now, really. Think the job's taking a toll on him." Ben said, his eyes glancing around the pub, observing the hustle and bustle.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised," You frowned. "That's a hell of a job."

"I'm sure it's nothing compared to being a professor at Hogwarts though?" Ben teased, making you roll your eyes.

"Very funny," You smiled, averting your eyes from him for a moment. "I mean, it's hard, but not impossibly hard. The grading takes a toll sometimes, but the rest of the time it's quite rewarding. Seeing your students learning from you, it feels like you've achieved something."

"Let me guess, Herbology?" He cocked a brow at you, another similar gesture that Severus did. Can he leave your mind for one day? Fuck.

"How did you guess?" You replied sarcastically, smiling.

"I don't know, but if my memory serves me well, you were rather gifted at the subject," Ben admitted, playing along with you. Your smile widened at his compliment. "And let's not forget that you were obsessed with all sorts of flowers, plants and herbs, carrying them with you everywhere you went!"

"Oh, gods, yeah..." Your cheeks reddened at the thought, slightly embarrassed at your younger antics. "At least I didn't go around planting stink bombs amongst other things in classrooms."

"At least I wasn't a Herbology nerd." Ben quipped playfully, inducing a gasp from you.

The two of you spoke for hours in the pub, until it reached around six in the evening. You'd totally lost track of time.

"It was lovely seeing you again, Ben." You smiled up at your old classmate, your eyes flicking between his blue ones. As much as he was attractive, you weren't sure there was a spark there, not like the one you'd felt with Severus.

"Likewise, Y/N," Ben replied, grinning handsomely at you. "Erm, do you think you'd like to see me again? Perhaps on... Friday? Seven o'clock?"

"Are you asking me out?" You chuckled incredulously, in slight disbelief. Ben's grin brightened as he stared down at you. Surely Benjamin 'the menace' Bluewater wasn't asking you out.

"Yeah, if that's okay. I'd always thought you were rather sweet." He said casually, making your cheeks burn. "I suppose it helps that you're absolutely stunning, too. Always a bonus."

"Aren't you a flirt?" You laughed lightly, considering his offer. You pondered for a moment. Maybe it'd be good to go on this date, maybe you'd see something in him. Maybe it would help with your whole... Snape situation. Maybe you'd actually heal. So you accepted it. "Sure, I'd like that. Send me an owl." You smiled softly up at him.

"Your address?"

"If it's meant to be, it'll find me." You grinned cheekily.

"Ahh, I see how it is!" Ben returned your grin, his cheeks a little merry and red from the alcohol the two of you'd consumed. You hummed flirtatiously in reply. "Well, it was a pleasure, Y/N. See you on Friday." He said, confidence clear in his tone. You cocked a challenging brow at him.

"Oh really?"

"Really." Ben nodded. He reached down and took your hand gently, pressing a soft kiss upon your knuckles to bid you goodnight; prompting your cheeks to pinken once more tonight. "Goodnight, Y/N." He let go of your hand, a soft laugh erupting from your lips.

"Goodnight, Ben." You smiled at him, watching him turn and walk away, disappearing into the night.

You weren't sure about this, but it felt good to have your mind on things - or someone other than Severus.

Part 8!

okkkk I hope you guys don’t kill me for the last part, ooooo. I thought it might be fun… ehehe

Thank you for reading, let me know what you think!! I can’t wait to start the next part, I’m so excited!! My brain is buzzing with ideas for Prisoner of Azkaban 😎 love you guys. don’t forget to sleep and eat 🖤

Taglist: (I hope I haven’t missed anyone)

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

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@sonoluvr22

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missmeasured · 2 years

Text

I made some fluff!

Severus Snape and The Chamber of Secret Growing Affections and Confusing Feelings

Word count :1200 ish

Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Object of Affection

Warnings: a swear word or two.

Summary: The new teacher's assistant is charming in a way that Severus can’t help but be affected by.

“Oh bollocks.” Snape muttered under his breath as he rounded the corner into his classroom and found the new teacher’s assistant hanging out of the cupboards on the far side of his classroom.

The new aid was something of a conundrum for Severus. They were irritatingly charming. And not in the usual way that charming people were irritating. They did not force their attentions on people, rather they had an annoying tendency of drawing them in and making them laugh when they least expected it.

Just yesterday in the staff room everyone was gathered around slagging off the new Defense against the Dark arts hire, Gilderoy Lockhart, and the sweet smiley thing had made him choke on his cup of tea with unexpected laughter when they had called him a “caped cunt”. Snape hated to admit it, but they really lit up a room, especially with unexpected vulgarities. Severus felt so uncomfortable with this newfound sensation of being grateful when the stranger arrived to join his normal comfortable group. It was contrary to his nature.

The other reason Severus was consistently made so uncomfortable by the teacher’s assistant was currently staring him in the face. The eager thing had purchased themselves several repeats of what they no doubt deemed a suitable aspiring teacher’s apparel. On its surface the clothes were guilty of nothing, plain white shirts, and several colours of the same set of tweed wool garments. It was the fit that was the problem. They had so nicely chosen a cut that suited their body and the wool clung then swept away in a manner most enticing.Their waistcoats truly drew the eye in, two rows of brass buttons on each one in a V shape. It was not good either way, look down the V and there was their waist, looking like it needed hands placed on either side and look up the V and their chest was there, so nicely encapsulated in wool and white shirt. Now this fresh hell of their rear end protruding from his cupboards when he had not expected to be so presented with it.

“Oh Severus! Is that you?” They exclaimed when they hear his approaching footsteps. They started wiggling out of there and the Potion’s Master forced himself to look away. “I don’t want you to think I’m snooping. I saw your list you left me on your desk and I saw no reason not to get started right away since you have a free period. So far I took out all the textbooks and cleaned them. I was just getting rid of some cobwebs before I put them back.” They announced cheerfully as they stood up.

Snape nodded. “Thank you.” He said tightly, for he could think of nothing else to say. He noticed today’s necktie was green with white dots. They had seventeen colours of necktie and counting. It bothered the dungeon bat that he knew how many neckties he had seen them wear. It bothered him more that they had a black snooty mark on their nose and it was disgustingly adorable.

“You have something on the end of your nose.” He informed dutifully. They fished for a handkerchief and wiped at their face.

“Did I get it?” They asked.

“No.” Severus answered and then, before he knew what was coming next they had taken their glasses off and were looking up at him with their surprisingly lovely eyes and wiping at their nose more, leaning in closer, asking for assurance that they have gotten it now. Worse, they hadn’t gotten it, leaving Severus no choice but to take the handkerchief from their outstretched hand and dab at the tip of their nose and now that their glasses were pushed up into their hair he could see there was more on their cheek. He followed the soot across the face of the annoyingly alluring aid.

“Thanks!” They smiled as he finished. “I have an appointment to help the golden blunder after you, and you know how foppish he is. Would probably send me off the scrub up before I was allowed to enter his rooms.” They laughed and magiced the books back into the newly clean selves. “What else can I help you with, Severus?”

Why did his name sound different in their mouth? Why did their voice colour it in that way? “Nothing really. Early in the school year I do not need much assistance. In a few weeks if you can help me run potions result testing, I find that the most useful.” Severus informed.

“Ah gotcha. Test the sleeping draughts and what not?” They ask, putting their glasses back on.

“Yes.” Snape answers, feeling the need to step away now that the cleaning of the smudge was complete but not wanting to make it uncomfortable.

“As long as you promise not to make fun of me if I snore!”

“I don’t make…fun…”

“I’ll make it fun. Don’t worry.” They winked at him. Actually winked at him. “If you don’t want to use me any more I guess I’ll go see Clocktart.” They rolled their eyes, which got so sparkly when they were smiling. Severus suddenly felt he must have tied his neckcloth too tightly.

“If you wish… I could scrounge up some more things to do if you would rather spend time down here than go up to see him.” Severus offered tentatively.

“Could you?” They asked, turning back from leaving and coming back over. “Gilderoy really has no trouble treating me like a lackey. I’d love to hang out down here if you have something for me.”

Severus didn’t really have anything for them to do, he suddenly realized. He had been about to brew an example potion for his 7th years. “How are you at chopping?”

“I’ve been told I’m quite good with my hands.” The little grin at the corner of their mouth always made Severus feel quite wary. Is that smirk friendly? Couldn’t possibly be anything more than friendly.

“Well if you’d like, you can help me prep ingredients. I will have to check your work, I’m very exacting when it comes to preparation. Just so you know what you’re getting yourself into.” The head of Slytherin warned.

“Oh I don’t mind you looking over my shoulder. I’ve always been glad when someone tells me what to do and exactly how to do it.”

There were a great deal of things Severus would like to show them exactly how to do. He had to shake them all out of his head. It was only September. There were a lot more months of having this tweed covered, bespectacled, smiley person under his nose and he knew he needed to stop mistaking their twinkly eyes for flirtation.

Still, later in the morning when they called him over and asked him to correct their form using his hands he had to wonder. When they walked behind him while he stirred, they placed a hand on his back. Just to let him know they were behind him? When they got them both a glass of water while Severus was in the middle of brewing without his asking for one.

When the potion was finished and they were on their way out, they stopped right beside Severus, rested their fingertips on his wrist and said “Thanks for saving me from spending all day with that self obsessed nightmare. You’re my hero.”

So many possible responses came to mind and none quite right so Severus just smiled and tried not to read into the lingering fingers. He went back to to the brew, preparing a vial, and he almost didn’t realise the lingering smile he wore on his lips. When he did, he whispered “Bullocks” under his breathe once more.

#fanfiction #severus snape fic #severus x reader #severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #snape #Severus #snape fluff #fluff #short reads #pro snape #snaddy #severus x oc #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader

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whatsortofschoolisthis · 1 year

Text

Merula: One day I'm going to say "fight me" to the wrong person and someone is just going to deck me.

Talbott: Oh, trust me, that day may be closer than you think.

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Sean: If murdered, I want a closed-casket funeral. However, towards the end of the service, please have the organist play "Pop Goes the Weasel" over and over until everyone in attendance is staring at my coffin with mute, horrified anticipation.

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Bryn: we're about to die! do you really want your last words to be sarcasm?!

Rowan, sarcastically: no of course not! I wanted them to be words of joy at our eminent demise

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Tonks/Jae *accidentally does something well*: ah shit I’ve given them standards now.

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Jae: The secret to life is to always use more spinach and less rice than you think you'll need.

Penny: The second secret to life is that fresh air, warm sun, and a cup of tea will make your problems small enough to start handling.

Hecate: The third secret to life is that violence sometimes really is the answer.

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Ismelda: And that's why I don't have a boyfriend.

Barnaby: You know, I think there's a lot of reasons why you don't have a boyfriend.

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R: Be careful, there is a fine line between surveillance and stalking.

Professor Rakepick: Yeah, getting caught, which I don't plan on.

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Professor Sprout: Do you have any tips on how to get rid of ants?

Hagrid: I'm assuming diplomacy has failed.

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Sean, after surviving every vault adventure: The universe does not want me or my family dead. It does not want us happy but it does not want us dead.

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Rubin: Okay, now, to review, if a stranger came up to you and said "I'm your mom's friend, she told me to pick you up" what would you say?

Kit: I would say "You are lying, my mom doesn’t have any friends!"

Rubin:...

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Merula: Everyone has called me 'Boris' all day. I think Hecate paid them to

[Later]

Hecate: Absolutely. Five galleons each, and it was totally worth it.

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Liz: Remember, bird-watching goes both ways.

Felix: That's vaguely threatening, thank you.

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Chiara: You remind me of a Russian doll.

Victor: Aw, thank yo—

Chiara: Full of yourself.

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Madame McGonagall: Severus, do you hate children?

Snape: What? No, no, I don't hate children! I can't hate children! Children are excellent! Raising rugrats is my raison d'etre!

Professor Flitwick: How do you feel about friskergibblins?

Snape: What the hell is a friskergibblin?

Professor Flitwick: A friskergibblin is a creature that looks, sounds, and acts exactly like a human child, but is not a sapient creature and does not possess the rights and protections of personhood.

Snape: Oh. Throw every single friskergibblin into the sun at your earliest convenience, please.

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Charlie at the Hogsmede Festival: Are you having fun?

Ben: No. I’m having dark, disturbing thoughts that I don’t like to talk about.

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Cecil Lee after having his werewolf investigation interfered with: What is your problem?

Sean, interfering to protect Chiara: Would you like that list to be in alphabetical order, or based off the severity of them?

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Tonks: Kit, are you sure you don't wanna use my graduation speech? It goes like this: Later, losers.

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Pitts, annoyed: Hey. Let’s play a game. It’s called “See who can be quiet the longest”.

Kit:, in detention Cool! Rubin loves that game!

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rainreignrayn · 1 year

Text

Obliviate (Chapter 15: A Home Once More)

The next day was both the beginning and end of many things.

Immediately upon entering the Great Hall, Draco’s ears buzzed fresh with the news of the trio’s disappearance. It was one thing to hear it in the privacy of the Houses each, but another thing entirely for them to all mix and gossip together.

“They were normal, that’s what I don’t understand,” insisted Dean Thomas as Draco and Blaise walked past the Gryffindor table.

“No the hell they weren’t,” Weaselette snapped at him. “They’ve been whispering to each other for weeks, faking smiles, making excuses. Hermione especially,” she added on. Draco’s hearing sharpened, and he pretended to stop Blaise to talk to him in an attempt to win him a few more seconds.

“Hermione’s always like that, Gin,” Seamus Finnigan countered.

Weasley’s tone rose in pitch. “Really, Seamus? Has she? Hermione’s just always been slumped and cold as my tits?”

“I like her,” Blaise whispered. Draco flicked the inside of his arm, and pulled the both of them closer towards the shadows of the lined alcoves.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Seamus sneered, his entire expression morphing into disgust. “We were never their friends, no matter what we thought.” He looked around at their group and motioned vaguely with his arm. “Yesterday should have been clear enough. Not a word to us, and the cowards left us to fight by ourselves. To suffer under Snape, alone.” He scoffed and shoved his plate away. “Gryffindors, my arse.” Seamus swung his legs over the bench and stormed out of the hall when he was met with the silence of his table.

Parvati Patil hesitantly spoke up. “You don’t… You don’t think there’s any truth to that, do you, Gin?”

Ginny Weasley straightened her spine to the likeness of a board, her chin held high. “I know there isn’t.”

“But—”

“I know there isn’t, Parv, because Hermione did not spend nearly a month avoiding me, slipping out of the dorms at night, refusing to make future plans with me, and closing herself off from the world— her friends —all because she was running away with my boyfriend and my brother.” Ginny’s voice only got tighter with each word, stiff as her spine and cold as her tits.

Dean placed his hand on the table between them, pity in his eyes. “Maybe that’s exactly why.”

It was this moment that Draco would one day pinpoint back to when asked how the Gryffindors lost Ginny Weasley’s faith.

The last of the Weasel line slapped her hands on the table and stood up. “I’m going to find McGonagall,” she said flatly. “You can sit here on your sad fucking arses.”

“Ginny, wait,” Parvati called after her retreating form, distressed.

Draco couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation on account of Theo jumping on his back and nearly sending him to the ground.

“I can’t believe you socks left without me!” he cried, fastening his arms around Draco’s neck.

Draco grappled at his wrists. “You’re—choking—fucker—I’ll kill—”

“When are you going to realize ‘sock’ isn’t a real insult? And you took too long brushing your teeth,” Blaise commented, standing leisurely as Draco was on the brink of death.

“You still found offense with it when I called you that, though. And my taking that long was not my fault,” Theo defended as Draco shoved him off. He yelped as he was put in a headlock. “The mudblood—ow, Malfoy! —told me all that shit about the cavities and it gave me anxiety—”

“Please, thirty seconds is more than enough,” Blaise said, walking to Slytherin’s table. Draco followed, with Theo hunched over in tow.

“Thirty seconds? Zabini, you odorous bastard, your teeth are going to fall out when—fuck off, Malfoy, I’m sorry —you’re fat and thirty. Do you know the kind of money that you’ll have to put towards procedure after procedure—”

“Have you forgotten we’re wizards? We have magic, we don’t need dentists.”

Theo stilled. “Oh.” He scrunched his face in the forty-five degree angle under Draco’s arm. “What the fuck did she do to me?”

Blaise smiled broadly as he sat down and grabbed a plate. “How sweet. Little swot and bigger swot.”

A collective gasp and enraged shouts from the Gryffindor table had all heads turning. Dean Thomas was screaming at Snape with his arms outstretched.

Snape, who had the tip of his wand digging into Ginny Weasley’s throat.

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed, standing up.

He ignored them all. Every student and professor in the Great Hall held their breath. “You,” he snarled, “will watch your tongue, blood traitor.”

But Ginny Weasley remained unwavering. She glared at the man before her—her teacher of so many years. “You call yourself Headmaster—” he jerked her chin up— “but three of your students disappeared under your watch, and you have done nothing to find them.”

“Severus,” McGonagall repeated urgently, taking quick steps toward the pair. The Patil girl held Dean back, motioning for their friends to remain at bay.

Any false step would get the Weaselette killed.

“Was the lockdown simply a day off, Ms. Weasley?” Snape replied monotonously.

“You searched for less than six hours and forgot about it.” Her chest heaved in barely contained rage. “You spent their entire time at this school singling them out. And now you offer no help nor interest in their disappearance, even with all your power.” She spit directly on his face. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had them killed.”

Theo took in a sharp breath.

Snape closed his eyes as her saliva made a path down his cheek.

And then he opened his mouth—

“Everte Statum!”

The blow from McGonagall’s wand sent the headmaster flying across the hall, far from the throat of Ginny Weasley.

The Gryffindors surged forward and crowded around her, while half of Slytherin began the new round of shouting. Draco, Theo, and Blaise remained frozen in their back corner.

Theo gripped onto Draco’s forearm. “Holyshitholyshitholyshit.”

Minerva McGonagall stood in a half-crouch between the House tables and Severus Snape. “Mark this as the day you betrayed Hogwarts, Severus,” she called fiercely, wand lined to its target. “You may have killed Albus, you may have given in to the Dark, but the moment you raised your wand to harm a student, you have given up the castle.” She took a step forward. “And this castle has given up on you.”

Snape flung a ball of light in McGonagall’s way, who raised a shimmering shield and threw a Confringo. Spell after spell, they seemed to trade back and forth.

Seemed.

Snape blocked most of McGonagall’s spells, to be sure, but he threw back varying forms of ‘magic’ back at the Gryffindor figurehead.

It was when one stream of light among a flurry of others hit McGonagall’s robes before she put up a shield, somehow leaving her unharmed, that Draco understood.

Severus Snape had not thrown a single spell. He was only blocking, and feigning.

Draco couldn’t figure out why.

Almost all students had their wands out by that point, should a jinx fly astray, but then McGonagall flung a Reducto that sent the Great Hall’s glass wall shattering.

Someone in Hufflepuff started crying. A First Year in front of Draco started shaking, too, and he reached forward and put a silent hand on his shoulder, slightly pulling him back towards safety.

Just the way Lucius Malfoy did to Draco and his mother whenever the Dark Lord walked into their manor.

“What’s in her hand?” Blaise whispered.

McGonagall had pulled out something wrapped in white linen, and she used her wand arm to incarcerate and levitate the bloodied Severus Snape to the open night air. She shot him backwards, and in doing so she simultaneously let go of the wrapped object, only pinching the end of the now-empty cloth.

A golden snitch flew out, and made a beeline to Snape’s chest.

And then he twisted into nothing.

rainreignrayn on AO3

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justtluffythings · 10 months

Text

HOME: Book 4 - CHAPTER SEVEN

MASTERLIST

“Here you go, darling.” Madam Rosmerta smiled warmly as she placed a glass of Butterbeer on the table in front of Veronica, who had been sitting in a booth alone at the back of the Three Broomsticks since early that morning enjoying a rare moment of freedom. She hadn’t left the castle grounds in weeks as her days mostly consisted of hiding in the library or Snape’s office, and the only time she ever went outside was for Quidditch practices and matches. Last month, thanks to Veronica, Maribelle had finally managed to improve her marks enough to rejoin the team, and Emily had been working them all to death to make up for lost time. So while this meant she got to see the sun and breathe in the fresh air often, it was never a relaxing experience.

That morning, Gryffindor had a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, so Veronica had taken the opportunity to de-stress and grab a few Butterbeers, knowing she wouldn’t run into Charlie or Tonks as long as she left the pub before the game was over. As she took a sip of her drink, she let it flow through her and warm her up. She had opted for her Butterbeer hot as the weather was still chilly in March and a cool draft was let in each time the door opened. However, the warmth of the delicious drink did nothing to silence her thoughts. It didn’t feel right missing a Quidditch game; she had been to every single game in some capacity since her first year at Hogwarts, whether it was as a spectator or a player. She was always there cheering from the stands, but this year, she only attended the games she was playing in. She hadn’t watched any of the other games. She felt pathetic; while the rest of the school was gathered together enjoying their Sunday morning game, she sat alone in an empty pub wishing she could just have her best friend back. She missed him beyond words, and the constant pain she felt was becoming too much to handle.

Just then, Veronica felt something brush her arm, causing her to jump and look up into the eyes of a Weasley. When did he get here? She had been so lost in her own head that she hadn’t seen him come in or even felt him sit down beside her until his arm brushed against hers. Shouldn’t he be at the game?

“Hiya, Ronnie. I thought I might find you here.”

“Bill? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be watching your brother’s game.”

“Charlie has enough people cheering him on. He won’t notice that I’m not there. You, on the other hand… he’ll notice you aren’t there. He always notices your absence, you know?”

“He might notice, but he sure as hell doesn’t care. He’s too busy with his girlfriend to care about me anymore.”

Bill’s head fell to the side as he raised his eyebrows at her. “You don’t really believe that, Ron. He cares about you more than he’s cared about anyone. He loves you. You know that. You could never be replaced.”

“Oh yeah? It seems to me that I’ve been very easily replaced. He’s forgotten all about me.”

“Clearly it’s been a while since you’ve seen or spoken to him because if you’d seen him at all recently, you would know how much this is affecting him. He’s devastated not having you around.”

Veronica leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms as she glared at him. “Bill, can we drop this please? I know this is tough for you because he’s your brother and I’m like a sister to you, so being caught in the middle isn’t an ideal situation, but he’s your flesh and blood. You have to take his side, and I get that-”

“I’m not taking his side! I agree that dating Tonks was a stupid thing for him to do-”

“That’s not what I said! He likes her, and he’s allowed to do what he wants. I don’t own him.”

Bill rubbed his face frustratedly. “Veronica, I-

“Bill, I’ve gotta go, alright? I really don’t want to be having this conversation with you. Besides, I’m upset with 11-year-old me to begin with for even letting you trick me all those years ago into confessing my feelings for your brother; you shouldn’t even know about that. And you shouldn’t have to be caught in the middle of our little fight. So I’m sorry for doing that to you, but I really do have to go now. The game’s just finished, and I need to get out of here before Charlie and Tonks see me.”

“What? How do you know the game is finished?”

Veronica smirked as she shrugged. “I got Athena to watch the game and let me know when the snitch has been caught. I just saw her out the window.”

Bill shook his head and rolled his eyes at her antics. The things she was willing to do to avoid Charlie never ceased to surprise him. “Where are you going to go? Please tell me you aren’t planning on locking yourself up in the library for the rest of the day. It’s a beautiful day today.”

“Well, I’m hoping to stop by the lake for a while. I know Charlie keeps going back every Saturday morning at our time to see if I’m there, but that’s the only time he goes. He won’t be showing up today. Plus, he’ll be busy with her, so I want to go see Squish again and enjoy the fresh air while I still can.”

“Fine, go. But let me ask you one thing first. How long are you planning on avoiding him? When is it going to end? You’re best friends…”

Veronica smiled sadly before pulling Bill into a quick hug. “I don’t think we are anymore, Bill. I’ll see you later.” And with that, she walked briskly out of the pub and down to the lake, hoping to enjoy some peace and quiet at her favorite spot. All she could wish for was to have ten minutes without thinking about Charlie. However, that was always much easier said than done.

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strangersinwinter · 2 years

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in which (portrait) Severus Snape meets Albus Severus (and Scorpius). Many thoughts rushed into his head...

Fuck there's another one

What did he say his name was?

Lol idiot has on the wrong House colours, fu- wait a minute....

Wtf is it with these Potter genes, do they just clone themselves or what, this is ridiculous!

No seriously wtf did he say his name was???

There was a long awkward silence......

#snape: so i see potter's taken to talking shit about me to his own spawn how dreadful #albus: no he actually said really nice things about you #snape:....say sike right now #scorpius: hello professor!! :D i'm scorpius his best friend!! :D it's an honour to meet you!! :D #snape: oh what fresh hell is this #i just really love albus and scorpius #two pretty best friends #and i just want some severus snape out there to know he was appreciated #and a child proudly carries his name #a chaotic but lovable child #severus snape

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thebadgerclan · 3 years

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His Turn

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: You’ve cared for him, now it’s his turn to care for you...

Pain. That was all you felt: in your limbs, in your neck, in your head. Hell, your skin even ached. Your leg throbbed with every step, bones screaming with every step, the wound from the necrosis curse not quite healed yet. Madame Pomfrey had kept it from killing your flesh and needing an amputation, but the wound remained, healing unbearably slowly. Bruises littered your skin, remnants from the battle that had nearly claimed yours and your husband’s lives. To sum it up; you felt like a reanimated corpse, craving rest more than anything.

But you couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. Because of Severus, you pushed forward. His injuries were far more severe than yours, his pain deeper than yours. The puncture wounds in his neck were healing far slower than yours, Nagini’s venom preventing the skin from stitching itself back together at a normal rate. Your husband needed you; he needed you to be strong, he needed you to take care of him, so that’s what you’d do.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, breathing deeply, eyes shut tight. Standing for too long left you nauseous and winded, but Severus was hungry, so you’d get him something to eat. Part of your mind, which is to say, most of your mind, felt that if you didn’t look after Severus, he would die. He’d come so close to death after Nagini’s bite, spending a week in the hospital wing hooked up to IVs, unconscious, thick bandages wrapped around his neck. Severus was still bedridden, but he was awake and lucid. Weak, tired, but alive.

Slowly, you made your way back to the bedroom, a plate in hand, the other trailing on the wall. Severus was propped up on a mountain of pillows, bandaged around his throat, a book on his lap. “Here you are, love,” you said, trying to sound peppy, but your voice betrayed you. Your husband had indeed noticed your fatigued state, but for the most part, he’s choked it up to how hard you were working to care for him. But now, as he watched you stagger over to him, shadows under your eyes so dark they might have been painted on, breathing heavily, limping, he realized that wasn’t the case at all.

“Y/N, darling, are you alright?” “Hmm? I’m fine, Sev. Perfectly fine.” You were lying, and you both knew it. And as you sat down on your side of the bed, a little too hard for his liking, Severis took the plate from your hand and set it on the bedside table. “Y/N, look at me,” he said, taking your face in his hands. As soon as he touched you, he felt you deflate, going limp, leaning into his touch. “Oh sweetheart. You’re hurting, aren’t you?”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you nodded, letting the weakness and vulnerability you’d felt for days spill over. “Yes, Sev. I’m in so much pain.” Your husband felt his heart crack clean down the middle, and he shifted you so you were tucked into his side, your face in his chest, his arms tight around you. “Y/N, my love, why haven’t you said anything?” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes.

“Because you’re hurting too, and you almost died, and there’s part of me that thinks you still might, and I need to take care of you,” you explained, breath coming fast, tears pouring down your face. Crying made your head hurt worse, but you didn't care, you couldn’t stop. “I need to take care of you, Severus, because I’m so damn scared of losing you. I almost lost you, and I won’t let it happen again. But Sev, I’m so tired, I can’t keep this up. Everything hurts; it hurts to walk, to stand for too long. Merlin, I’m so tired.”

Severus pressed a long, lingering kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Oh Y/N, my love. Sweetheart, you don’t have to keep doing this. I am not going to die, Madame Pomfrey reassured us of that. I’m getting better, Y/N, you don’t have to work yourself to the bone. You need to rest and heal too, my darling.” “But-” “Shhh,” he interrupted, looking into your eyes, which were brimming with tears. “I appreciate you taking care of me, but you need to stop. You’ll shut down soon, and I won’t let that happen.”

“I’m just still so worried about you, Sev,” you said, and he nodded. “I understand, sweetheart. But you’ve taken care of me for weeks, let me take care of you now.” You lifted your head so you could look at your husband properly. “Are you sure? You’re still on bedrest, I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.” “I’m sure, my love. Madame Pomfrey said I can start getting up and moving a bit if I’m feeling well. And I am. So, it’s my turn to take care of you.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off of your chest, like you could breathe again, and fresh tears spilled over. But these were tears of relief; relief that your husband was getting better, that he was feeling well enough to get out of bed after weeks, relief that you could rest and heal, that Severus would care for you as you had cared for him.

“I love you,” you whispered, Severus wiping your tears with his thumb. “I love you, Sev. Thank you.” “You needn’t thank me, my sweet. I will always take care of you. I love you too, Y/N. I’ll take care of you now.” You smiled, resting your head back on Severus’ chest, his heartbeat against your ear, lulling you into a deep, dreamless, content sleep.

#severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #snape x reader #snape x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert

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onbeinganangel · 3 years

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warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich

not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)

damned if you do it and damned if you don’t

(draco/harry, 1.8k)

Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.

He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.

A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”

Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”

Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.

It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”

It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”

It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”

But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.

Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.

Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.

Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”

He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.

Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.

“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.

And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.

“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.

It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“

Draco tries to move towards the voice.

“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.

“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”

“Harry.” His Harry.

“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.

“I won’t let you.”

Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”

And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.

“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.

Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.

“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.

And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.

He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.

“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.

“But—“

“I know, darling. Me too.”

Darling? Harry… too?

“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.

Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”

#i may actual edit this and pop it on ao3?#i kind of like it?#thank you starry baby for this delicious prompt #warmup ficlets #drarry #m writes #angst with a happy ending #cw blood #cw injury #cw violence

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Ten Things I Hate About You

Muggle!Born!Reader X Draco

Summary: Request: @thelostandweeping If it is possible may I request a Draco x Muggle reader. Reader is really bad at potions so Snape has Draco tutor the reader. The reader doesn't like Draco but he finds her bluntness and her ability to be aloof interesting and tries to win her over. She later shows she's actually very kind and sweet. They become best friends and later together.

A/n: Okay this... but add a bit of Shakespeare and ABBA and you’ve got yourself a deal. This is super cute and a bit angsty and 100% pining. Let me know what you think! It’s currently 2am and I’m crying over these dorks. Love you guys so much

“Not Malfoy!” I distressed, standing. “Professor, please. I need to pass this class,”

“And you will do so, if Mr. Malfoy tutors you,” Snape hissed. “I don’t have to do this Miss Y/l/n, I could watch you fail and be quite fine with it.”

Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and sat back down. Snape’s eyes narrowed at me.

“You and Mr. Malfoy will meet here every Friday afternoon.”

“Yes, Professor,” I sulked. “Thank you, Professor,”

“Now get out of my sight,” He snapped, and I stood, huffing out of his office and into the hall, nearly running over Malfoy.

“Watch it, mudblood,” He snapped, shoving me aside.

“Watch yourself,” I snarled, shoving him back.

He looked surprised at me, as if no one had dared to ever retaliate against him. Stupid self- righteous prat. That I needed. I made me loathe him more. I growled and stormed away, throwing my stuff onto the table in the Great Hall, sitting beside my friends.

“Well, that’s not a pretty face,” Ernie gave me a teasing look. “Snape that bad, huh?”

“He’s making Malfoy tutor me!” I lamented. “I think I’d rather fail,”

Shocked gasps rose around my small group of friends.

“Look here he comes,” Susan nodded to the door and sure enough, the blond prick was storming his way over here with murder in his eyes.

“You!” He sneered, stalking up to my table.

“What about me?” I gave him a cold look.

“You’re a filthy little mudblood who just ruined my Friday afternoons!” He shouted.

“And you’re a heinous misogynistic asshole who I have to deal with every Friday afternoon instead of going to Quidditch practice so forgive me if I’m not weeping at your feet begging for forgiveness,” I snapped, standing, my arms folded.

Onlookers of our conversation let out a low gasp of surprise as Malfoy stammered for the next thing to say. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting.

“Cat got your tongue?” A smirk spread across my face. He drew his wand, pointing it at me. I didn’t flinch.

“Mr. Malfoy!” I heard the familiar voice of McGonagall. “Wand away! Unless you wish to serve detention,”

My smirk grew to a grin as I watched Malfoy stomp his foot and storm out of the room, shoving a few first years out of the way. A few clapped and cheered at the encounter before getting scolded by McGonagall.

I dreaded Friday. More than I dreaded anything. I’d rather never listen to music again if it meant I didn’t have to listen to Malfoy teach me about Potions. Okay, well, maybe the situation wasn’t that dire... but I was considering it.

“You’re early,”

I hadn’t even closed the door and he was already snapping at me.

“Hello Malfoy,” I gritted, turning to see him already standing over a cauldron, ingredients laid out around the table.

“Let’s just get this over with?” He nodded me over, his eyes still trained on the knife and leathery skin in his hands.

I shed my robe and rolled up my sleeves, going to hover beside him.

“Can you tell me what this is?” His voice lost some of the snap to it as he slid the crushed hide into the bubbling brew.

“If I could do you think I’d be here?” I huffed, grabbing my textbook and notes, flipping through the pages.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” Draco snatched the book from my hands.

“Give it back!” I shouted, reaching for the textbook.

“You won’t get better if you’re cheating,” He disappeared the book with a wave of his hand.

“That was my book! Malfoy, I swear to god!”

We were toe to toe, inches from each other. There was a calm, careful, infuriating smile on his face and anger on mine.

“Now, tell me, little mudblood,” He took a careful step back. “What potion is this?”

I narrowed my eyes at him and with a deep breath I looked over at the grey sludge that boiled in the pot. My eyes took inventory of the ingredients that were laid around the desk.

“Knotgrass?” I guessed, picking up a jar inspecting it.

Draco gave a seldom nod. We went on like that, until I had named all of the ingredients that were before us.

“I know this!” I groaned, rubbing my face. “I should know this!”

“Well, why don’t you?” Malfoy smirked. “It’s quite simple,”

“If it was simple,” I gritted out. “I wouldn’t be here,”

My book was suddenly back in his hands.

“It’s easier to find a potion by looking at the index. You know the ingredients, find them and cross reference,” He handed it back to me.

“That’s... actually really smart,”

I took the book and flipped to the back. It took some time, but I eventually flipped to the page I felt was right: Polyjuice Potion.

“Well done,” He didn’t smile, but he wasn’t quite scowling. “Perhaps there is hope for you yet, little mudblood.”

“Watch it,” I growled. “I’m still not above punching you,”

“What would you like me to call you then? Little shrew? Spitfire? Gorgon?” His smirk was back.

“Oh, kiss a dementor, Malfoy,” Grabbing my things, I ditched him and the Polyjuice Potion, heading outside into the setting sun to clear my head with some fresh air.

______________________________

Draco sat back, leaning against the table, watching you storm out. Your adamant hatred for him was quite amusing. The fact that you needed him to pass Potions and your loathing of him, made him laugh to himself as he began to clean up with a quick flick of his wand.

“I am to glad to see that my office is still intact,” Snape mused, flowing into the room. “I can’t say I had high hopes for you two,”

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Draco admitted. “She’s... bearable.”

“Is that sentiment I hear Mr. Malfoy?” Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” Draco scoffed. “A challenge.”

“You’re absolutely daft!” Pansy dismayed later that night in the common room. “You really think you can tame that shrew?”

“Do you doubt me?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Besides, I wrangled you in, and I put up with Crabbe and Goyle, and you have not been to a family dinner of mine. Y/n? She’s a piece of cake.”

“Ten galleons says you’re wrong,” Pansy held out her hand.

“You’re on,” Draco grinned as he shook it.

The next Friday, you just as riled and furious as you had been last Friday, and it was almost enough to make Draco laugh. Every other girl seem to... how did you put it? Weep at his feet begging for forgiveness? That seemed about right. But you? Oh, he was right, you were a little spitfire. Especially when you were frustrated because you couldn’t figure out how to brew Sleeping Draught. He left that tutoring session smiling to himself, watching your livid form head down the hall.

The next day Draco wandered down to the Quidditch Pitch, surprised to see you out there alone, running drills. You had mentioned giving up practice to let him tutor you. Thinking back to his bet with Pansy, he shed his robe and grabbed his broom from the closet, changing quickly, and headed out into the air after you.

“Bloody hell!” You screamed, nearly falling off your broom. “What the fuck is wrong with you Malfoy!?” You hovered feet from him, covered in sweat and dirt.

“Well, at the moment, the chance of losing a bet,” He grinned.

“Shouldn’t have taken it then, asshole,” You rolled your eyes, balancing on your broom as you stretched out your arms. “But I meant why are you here? Are you following me now?”

“Not particularly, I leave my stalking abilities for Potter. Nothing to waste on a mudblood.” Oh, he loved watching the fire grow in your eyes as he called you that.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” You snapped, flying away from him, taking a lap around the pitch.

He followed. You sped up. So did he. When you pulled straight up, it was all too easy to follow. He could hear your aggravated growl as he chased you around the pitch. You stopped short and he nearly ran into you, having to swerve out of the way. Your face was a mask of calm and disgust as you shook your head and landed, heading for the locker rooms.

“How’s the shrew?” Pansy asked later that week. “Still think you can tame her?”

“Patience Pans,” Draco chuckled. “These things take time,”

It wasn’t hard to figure out your schedule that week. It was even easier to make sure that he was there just long enough for you to notice him and then watch your mood sour as you stalked out of whatever room the two of you shared.

“Hey there, Spitfire,” Draco grinned leaning against your table at the library.

“What?” You snapped, not looking up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry I forgot, in this society, being male and an asshole makes you worthy of my time.” You shot him a deathly glare. “Bugger off, Malfoy,”

“You hate me, don’t you?” He smirked. “I get under that muggle skin of yours,”

“I really don’t think you warrant that strong an emotion,” I leaned back in my chair.

“Maybe another strong emotion then? Because they say if a girl constantly rips of a guy it means she likes him.”

“Am I that transparent?” Your face fell flat with you tone. “I want you. I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” Rolling your eyes, you went back to your book. “Go find some other girl to fuck, Malfoy,”

“Ooh, see but that, there. Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?” He grinned and sat beside you, taking your book.

“Malfoy!” You hollered, only to be scolded by Pince. “Give me my book.”

“Now where have I heard that before.” Draco flipped through the pages of your book. “Ugh, a muggle book, I should have known,”

You snatched it from his hands and cradled it to your chest.

“You wouldn’t know a good book if I hit you in the face with it,” You snarled, grabbing your bag and storming off.

The few students who were watching the encounter quickly turned back to their work as Draco glanced around the shelves of books, noticing the missing space your book left in the shelf and the plethora of similar books.

“Shakespeare?” Draco mused, drawing a book into his hands.

________________________________

“He’s obsessed! He won’t leave me alone!” I cried in frustration. “I wish he’d go back to stalking Potter because I’m sick of it!”

“Have you ever considered that maybe he likes you?” Hannah asked.

“Likes me?” I snorted. “Ah, yes. Because calling me a mudblood, or a shrew is just a tell of flirting,”

“He called you a mudblood?” Ernie demanded.

“Calm down, I can handle myself.” Rolling my eyes, I sulked, standing. “I’m going to the pitch, anyone wanna join?”

There was a resounding chorus of ‘no’s. Which was probably a good thing. I needed some time alone to think and blow off steam. After a few hours of running drills I headed back to the locker rooms. Wiping my face with a towel, I jumped nearly a foot when I saw that I wasn’t alone.

“For the love of god, Draco!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

“Well, hello to you too,” He smirked. “And I do believe I have quidditch practice,”

I pursed my lips and slammed my locker shut. His irritating casual conversation still had the ability to make my blood boil.

“I hope you fall to your death,” I snapped, heading towards the girl’s showers.

“Well, there’s a way to get a bloke’s attention,” He smirked, leaning effortlessly against his locker.

“My mission in life,” I smiled cheerfully. “And I’ve obviously struck your fancy, so the world makes sense again,” I sighed wistfully and deadpanned.

“See you Friday,” He smiled politely.

I let out a sound of disgust and shoved down the urge to go back in there and punch him in his perfect face. The days until Friday seemed to fly by, mocking me with their abruptness.

Taking a deep breath, I walked into Snape’s office, where Draco was waiting for me, the same lazy smile on his face. I didn’t say a word as I shed my coat and rolled up my sleeves, taking out my book and notes.

“What in the bloody hell is that?” Draco stammered, almost knocking over a vial of Wormwood—I think.

“What?” I looked around then behind me. “What are you playing at?”

“Around your neck!” He gestured, annoyed.

“Headphones?” I chuckled, easily sliding them off. “You know... music? Your lot do have that sort of thing, don’t they?”

“I don’t see what... headphones—” As if the word was foreign to his tongue, “—have to do with music,” Draco scoffed.

“You can listen to music anywhere?” I slid them off from around my neck and pulled up my portable CD player from my bag. “Have you really never seen a CD player or headphones?” I was baffled. “I don’t know what I’d do without music,”

“CD?” Draco frowned at the player in my hands.

“Yeah, Mom just send me ABBA’s Gold album and I’m a bit obsessed,” A slight pink touched my cheeks. “I’ve been wanting it so long,”

“ABBA?”

I laughed and shook my head, shoving both my headphones and CD player into my bag. “Maybe I’ll show you one day,”

It took less time than expected for me to figure out that he had a cauldron of Veritaserum in front of me. And maybe I genuinely smiled at Draco and fought the urge to hug him because, Potions really was making sense to me now. I would never understand how he managed it, but he could teach it in a way that I understood.

“Hey Draco?” I paused at the door on my way out. He looked up from cleaning, his careful blue eyes meeting mine. “Thanks,”

I hated that I wasn’t annoyed at him when he found me in the library again.

“So, is this for Muggle Studies then?” Draco nodded to my book, sitting the incorrect way in the chair next to mine, resting his arms against the back, almost nonchalant.

“No,” I rolled my eyes, slipping off my headphones, pausing the CD. “On contrary to popular belief, we muggles aren’t uncivilized. I do enjoy things like reading and art and music,” The annoyance in my voice was false.

“I’m aware,” Draco grinned that lazy smile again.

“Oh, so you think you know me then? Have enough from stalking me these past weeks?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Not like we’ve spent the last few Fridays together...” He drawled. “And I think I’m getting there.”

“The only thing you know about me is that I’m muggle and suck at potions,” I muttered, turning back to my book.

“You’re interesting,” Draco shrugged, causing me to backtrack and frown.

“Is that all I am to you? Something to ogle at? Maybe get a laugh in here and there with your pureblood buddies?” My voice went back to being venomous. “Just because you're pureblood, doesn't mean you can treat people like they don't matter!” I grabbed my belongings and stormed out of the library, fighting tears.

________________________________

Draco hated that you were right. And he hated that he almost made you cry as well. He hated that you could see right through him. And he hated that he felt any of this at all.

“The bet’s off,” Draco hissed to Pansy.

“You know what that means...” She grinned mischievously. “That means you have to do my homework for a week, and you pay up.”

Draco forked over the coins, not missing them in the slightest.

“She too much for you then? Not able to tame our little mudblood shrew?” A wicked grin curled on her face.

“Don’t call her that,” Draco snapped. “You don’t know a thing about her,”

“She’s a mudblood, Draco,” Pansy sat up, looking concerned. “Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for her?”

Draco didn’t have an answer for that.

He didn’t have an answer for any of this. As he laid in bed that night, staring up at the satin green that draped over his bed, all he could think about was the hurt on your face and in your words. It was different from your remarks before, those he could brush off easily. But not the tears in your eyes or the betrayal in your voice. Pansy was right, he shouldn’t care at all. You were beneath him. A mudblood, muggle born, shrew.

But he fucked up.

Because now you were so much more precious than that and he let you do it to him. He gave you the place in his heart where you resided.

That Friday he almost didn’t expect you to show. When you did, after the initial shock, there was an apology rushing to his lips, but held back by his pride. You barely looked at him that day. Your movements were muted, gentle. You murmured soft answers.

“Why are you doing this?” It was the first thing you said to him that wasn’t some ingredient.

“Tutoring you?” He raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head and took a deep breath. “All of it—what's in it for you?” Your eyes met his and he felt like you were reading him like one of your books. “What’s your game, Malfoy?” It hurt more than he thought as you switched back to the use of his surname.

“So, I have to have a motive to be with you?” He snapped back defensive.

“You tell me.” The tone of your words had him weak at the knees, gripping at the table for support.

“Can’t I just enjoy your company?” Draco snapped, slamming the book closed. “We’re done for the day,” He shook his head, looking down at the table beneath his hands.

You left without another word, but a glance back to him that had him reeling. He wanted to call out after you, but the words were trapped by fear and uncertainty.

Draco still watched you in the halls and in class whenever he could steal a glance. You seemed to always have your headphones in and your head down, nose in a book. Snape informed him about mid-week that your grades were adequate and that the tutoring would end promptly. He should have been happy about that. And a month ago he would have been more than glad to be rid of you... but he made a huge mistake.

He fell for you instead.

And you hated him. For everything he was and is. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry that you closed yourself off from him. He didn’t blame you. Things were as it should be, and the world could spin around and not threaten to implode.

It was absolutely ludicrous. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Every night, he slipped on headphones, and fell asleep to ABBA singing about love and loss behind the safety of his closed bed curtains. Sometimes he could almost hear your gentle voice whisper the lyrics, broken and defeated. Maybe he whispered a few back to the memory of you. Maybe a tear or two slipped out.

Maybe he sent you a note in class. Maybe it said that he was sorry and understood why you hated him. Maybe he deserved to watch you crumple it up and shove it into your bag and not give him a second glance.

Maybe enough was enough.

Determined, one crisp spring morning, Draco rose. After tucking away his guilty pleasure, he didn’t bother with house colors as he pulled a jumper over his dark wash jeans, scouring the castle grounds for you. It shouldn’t have been that hard, he had your scheduled memorized for Merlin’s sake, but still you evaded him.

To be fair, you didn’t evade him at all, he just wasn’t paying attention to your curled-up form in the Quidditch stands.

He called your name and gritted his teeth when you didn’t look up. He tried again.

“Go away,” You pulled your arms tighter around yourself.

He didn’t. Instead he sat down beside you, not saying a word. You two sat in silence that about killed him when you spoke up again.

“Did you win... your little bet?” Your voice was broken. “Did you tame the shrew?”

“You knew?” Draco gaped.

A soft shrug fell from your shoulder. “I know what people say about me...” A sigh escaped your lips. “And Pansy’s always one to hold anything she can over me. She’s my cousin, you know... my mom was a squib...”

A frown fell on Draco’s face at the new information. How had he not known that? Pansy was always near him and well, he did stalk you for about a month. Maybe you had been right, and you were nothing more than a spectacle to him until that last week...

Your careful eyes were trained on the empty pitch before him. No emotion was evident on your face... maybe an air of melancholy.

“I... I’m sorry,” Draco glanced down. “You were right about me... about everything.”

“I really don’t want to talk about...” You sighed. “Things we’ve gone through...”

A smile tugged at Draco’s lips. He knew those words. And it was so like you to quote them at him. He wondered how many other times you had gotten away with quoting song lyrics at him.

______________________________

I could feel Draco’s eyes study my face and the small smile that rested on his. I glanced over at him an eyebrow raised in question.

“You can’t just quote song lyrics at me,” He toyed, the familiar irritating smirk on his lips.

“I can do whatever I please,” I snapped, my cheeks flushing that I had been caught. Then it dawned on me. “Wait—”

A laugh escaped his lips. A wonderful sound that I had never heard before. One that I wanted to hear again.

“I was curious...” He shrugged, nonchalant seeming.

“You... listened to ABBA? A muggle CD? And you... know the words?” I gawked at him. “Who the hell are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?” I couldn’t help the smile on my lips.

“I’ve been asking myself that for about a week now,” He grinned, then looked down, his smile dropping.

“Draco?” I asked softly, reaching out for his hand. His blue eyes met mine, hesitant. “It’s... you don’t have to... I know you can’t...” Fumbling over my words, I couldn’t find the ones that seemed to fit right.

He reached out, the hand I had seen for weeks on end delicately handle ingredients and potions, just as precisely reached out and tilted my chin up.

“Tell me,” He whispered. “Have I messed up so badly that you can’t forgive me? That you won’t take a chance on a... how did you put it? Heinous misogynistic asshole?” There was a teasing smile on his lips that somehow moved to be inches from mine.

“Who’s quoting song lyrics now?” I mused softly, “And what kind of idiotic question is that?”

“That’s all I needed to hear,”

His mouth was on mine then, and I couldn't fight him. Not because he was possibly stronger than me—but not by much—but because my will crumbled into dust the second our lips met. So, I kissed him back. His hands memorized my face, the same way mine were tracing his, and, in the brief seconds when his lips were free, he whispered my name.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” He breathed out. “I’ll do better,”

"Don't promise me anything," I whispered softly, my hands falling to his shoulders. “Next week you might change your mind... or Pansy might—”

His lips were on mine again, silencing my words and doubts.

“Will you please try to hear what I'm telling you? Will you let me attempt to explain what you mean to me?” His stark eyes pierced mine as he cradled my face. “I am so sorry. I know I’m an asshole, and I know I’ve fucked up—” I started to protest but his thumb brushed over my lips, keeping them closed “—I have. And for a while I thought it was because I fell for you, but I see now is that it was because I didn’t fall for you sooner,”

“Sap,” I mumbled against his thumb, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

His hands fell and I drew him into a hug. He held me close and for a moment, I just let him hold me. No fears, no doubts, no malicious thoughts, no blood status, no magic. Just two teens and something that might be love.

.................................

“Pansy is actually going to kill me,” I whispered, hesitating outside the Great Hall doors.

“Not while I have a say in the matter,” Draco pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head. “And besides... what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

I walked into the Great Hall, hand in hand with Draco. There was the clatter of dropped dishes and silverware and a collective gasp that fell into a hushed silence. Hundreds of eyes were on us.

“Well, that could have gone worse...” Draco muttered under his breath and I snorted a laugh, shaking my head, letting him pull me to a nearby table.

Nervous chattered and hushed whispers filled the hall. I guess they had good reason though. Draco and I had both tamed the other shrew.

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helnjk · 3 years

Text

Lost In The Night - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x fem!gryffindor!reader

Requested: yes

Ello! Hope your not too busy. If you could, could you write a prompt #42 and a prompt#46 together as in, in one story.. If you could that would be lovely and if you can't no worries! ♥️;

Hey if your requests are open could you do a prompt #42 & promot#46 for draco. Much appreciated!

“what the hell were you thinking?” “who hurt you?”

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Umbridge & her quill, blood, slight angst but with a happy ending!

Summary: Somehow, Umbridge finds a way to ruin everything. Luckily, Draco is there to pick up the pieces and hold you tight.

Prompts are in bold

---

Being in Gryffindor was great. Being a Gryffindor dating a Slytherin, not as great. Being a Gryffindor secretly dating a Slytherin who just so happened to be Draco Malfoy, a little complicated.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Draco, but he chipped away at your armor little by little until he held your heart firmly in his hands.

You could tell that something was different about him around third year, he was less of an entitled prick and actually managed not to bother your housemates much that year. It seemed like he finally managed to get it in his head that he wasn’t any better than the rest of you, despite his pure bloodline.

It was fourth year that you had started actually paying some more attention to him. Your eyes automatically finding him whenever you were in the same room together. He noticed too, sending you discreet smirks that caused a flutter in your stomach. One day in Potions he decided to sit by you instead of his usual seat and you merely raised an eyebrow at him. That was when the note passing began.

Hogsmeade this weekend? He wrote down on a scrap piece of parchment beside his ingredients, pretending to take down notes on what was brewing in his cauldron.

You asking me out on a date, Malfoy? You wrote back, managing to slip it back to him while Snape had his back turned.

Possibly. Was his only reply.

It’s gonna take much more than that for me to say yes.

Neither of you could continue passing this note between yourselves as your attentions turned back to the complicated potions were brewing and Snape had begun making his rounds around the room.

It wasn’t unusual after that for you to find scraps of parchment shoved into your books or between your notes, all containing Draco’s distinct handwriting. The contents of the notes were never the same, sometimes he would tell you about his day, other times he would write down clever little jokes or interesting food combinations for you to try out. Soon, you had found yourself eagerly waiting for these little messages and tidbits of information about the blonde haired boy.

The Astronomy tower is my favorite place in the whole castle. It’s nice to just sit there and be with my thoughts.

The Giant Squid is a girl. Don’t ask how I know.

Next time you’re down in the kitchens, ask the house elves for some vanilla ice cream and a plate of fresh chips.

It wasn’t long before you finally agreed to go on that date to Hogsmeade.

After that, your feelings for Draco bloomed quite quickly. Discrete study sessions in the library lasted long into the night, little gifts would appear in your bag or on your bed when you would have a rough day, subtle touches were shared whenever you had class together. You two were never seen publicly displaying any kind of affection though, which made it seem like you guys weren’t exactly dating.

You were fine with that kind of set up, preferring to keep your love life private and away from prying eyes. It also helped filter out the gossip about you and the questions you knew your friends would ask if they knew. They thought your friendship with Draco was a little off-putting, but chose not to say anything because they saw how he was different from your first few years in Hogwarts.

Fifth year was a little more tricky to deal with since Umbridge was around and stomping around like she owned the place.

Tensions were high as she constantly berated and belittled Harry, calling him a liar and embarrassing him in front of everyone in class. You were friends with him, Ron, and Hermione and of course you knew the truth. It made your blood boil that she thought she could treat him, or any other student for that matter, like that.

Draco, on the other hand, chose to keep quiet and keep out of Umbridge’s way. He didn’t want to get on her bad side, understandably, since his father was so closely involved in the Ministry.

“The more you keep your head down, the better love,” He would say as you complained to him about how awful she could be to Harry during your study sessions at the library, “I know for a fact that she wouldn’t hesitate to make you use that damn quill too if you gave her any reason. I don’t want you going through that.”

For the most part, you listened to his advice.

One day, however, you were just so over everything Umbridge had to say. She had gotten a dig in at Harry and his “lies” one too many times during class and you had just lost it.

“Oh shut up,” You snapped out loud.

Hermione’s head snapped to yours as quickly as you had said it, eyes wide in panic. Even Harry, who was trying his hardest not to retaliate because of his already sore and cut hand, gave you a look that said don’t bother.

“Excuse me?” The toad dressed in pink sent you a sarcastic smile, “What did you just say?”

You felt Hermione grip your arm as if to say please don’t. You shook her off.

“I said, shut up.” You spoke clearly, “You have no right to be ridiculing, and frankly humiliating, someone who is just a student and a minor, especially when you’re in a position of authority.”

The whole room was silent. Usually those who got on Umbridge’s bad side were those who chose not to follow her stupid educational degrees, or who spoke of Voldemort’s return. No one had ever called her out so publicly and straight to her face.

“Detention for the rest of the week, Miss Y/L/N. For speaking out of turn,” Was all Umbridge said.

You rolled your eyes but stayed silent, heart hammering in your chest when the realization of what exactly detention with her meant. A puff of breath escaped your lips and your mind wandered for the rest of the period, none of your friends bothering to ask if you were okay, clearly seeing that you weren’t in the right headspace.

The first few days of detention, you didn’t tell Draco where you were going, just saying that you were busy those nights and couldn’t really spend as much time with him as you liked. He was skeptical, but understood nonetheless. Every night before you two split ways, you going to Umbridge’s office and him heading for the dungeons, he would gently kiss you on the lips and whisper a soft I love you.

Those little reassurances were what helped you power through every sting of the words “I will not speak out of turn” on the back of your hand. As each detention wore on, though, you could feel your strength wavering.

On Friday night, the last night of your detention, you walked into Umbridge’s office and every breath you took shook from nerves. Your hand hadn’t healed from the previous night and it was more than painful. It pulsed as you waited for her to give you the go signal to start writing, and four hours later, it was red and raw. Blood dripped down from the edges of the words that no doubt left a scar and you couldn’t help the tears as they escaped the corners of your eyes.

The moment you stepped through the threshold of her office and into the silent corridor, a sob escaped your lips. You couldn’t bear to go back to Gryffindor tower yet but it was way past curfew and you couldn’t be seen wandering around the corridors. That meant that you found yourself in an empty alcove, trying to contain your tears and murmur quick healing spells on your hand.

You felt like such a baby, letting that foul woman get the better of you, but there was no mistaking the damage she did on you, both physically and mentally.

“Y/N?” You heard someone whisper. You nearly jumped out of your skin, quickly wiping your eyes with your good hand and strategically hiding the other as you saw Draco at the end of the hallway.

“Draco,�� You breathed, “What’re you doing out so late?”

“Prefect duties, it’s my turn to patrol tonight,” He said simply, “I could ask you the same thing, are you alright?”

A beat passed as you debated on what your answer should be.

“No, not really.” You replied weakly, knowing that he would see right past any form of lie or distraction you could create, eyes glancing at your bloodied hand.

He was quick to take notice too, “Who hurt you?” He said before rushed forward, gently cradling your injured hand in his.

“You can take a guess,” You muttered as his eyes scanned over the words etched onto the back of your hand.

“Oh darling,” He murmured, making his way into the alcove and gathering you up into his arms, “How did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed into his chest, “You should’ve heard her! She was going on and on about how malicious and not right in the head she thought Harry was. I couldn’t just sit there and let her talk about him like that. You know that he’s telling the truth, he shouldn’t be singled out and punished for that! I called her out on it and she gave me detention the whole week.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked more harshly than he intended and you felt like a toddler being scolded, “I told you that keeping your head down wouldn’t land you in situations like this.”

You knew he meant well and that he was just thinking of your happiness and safety, but with the rush of emotions running through you tonight, you didn’t want to be treated like a child. All you wanted was to be comforted and you had foolishly thought that Draco could give that to you.

“Oh sod off, Draco,” You huffed, pulling away from him and wincing as you lent on your injured hand, “I didn’t ask for a lecture, I’ve had my fill of that for today I would think.”

Tears had started to form in your eyes again as your frustration grew at your boyfriend. It had been a long night and this was not how you had seen it going when you spotted him down the hallway. You were about to move and make your way back to Gryffindor tower when you felt his hand softly grip your wrist.

“Hey, I’m sorry I snapped.” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back to his chest, “I just don’t like knowing that you got hurt when it could’ve been avoided.”

“I know,” You mumbled, still slightly put off at the boy whose arms enveloped you and whose scent was already calming you down.

Before you knew it, he was standing and sending you one of his trademark soft smiles that never failed to melt your heart.

“C’mon, you’re staying with me tonight.” He said, taking your uninjured hand in his and tugging slightly to get you to start moving.

“What if Umbridge catches us?” You asked, fear creeping in at the thought of more detentions being doled out to you. The thought of Draco having to go through it too made your stomach churn.

“She won’t.” He said confidently, “And if she does, I’m a prefect and she’s favors Slytherin anyway, I can tell her that I’m escorting you back to your dorm.”

The two of you walked silently hand-in-hand all the way to the slab of wall that indicated the Slytherin dorms. Draco gave you a large jumper to put on once you got to his dorm, as he went about getting ready for bed. The familiar scent of his cologne was enough to help you relax as you sank into the soft mattress and closed your eyes. Soon you felt the bed dip and Draco once again wrapped his arms around your waist.

A contented sigh escaped your lips as he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I love you,” He mumbled against your shoulder, “You know that right?”

Turning to face him, you sent him a soft smile, “Yeah. I love you too.”

For a while, Draco was content leaning down and pecking your lips every so often. No words were spoken and none were needed as both of you basked in the presence of the other. After a while, your stomach grumbled as you hadn’t had much to eat before your detention with Umbridge. The nerves were too much for you to stomach anything substantial.

Draco shifted away slightly and asked, “Do you want me to go grab you something from the kitchens? I’m sure the house elves would be happy to whip something up for you.”

You only shuffled closer to him, letting his warmth wash over you, “I’m alright, I’d rather be with you anyway.”

He gave out a soft hum and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting you know that he heard you. It wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy x reader

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sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

Note

HELLO MY FLUFF QUEEN!!! i’m here to request a hogwarts!au with “you had no idea, did you?” and MORK🗣LEE🗣PLS🗣

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, QUEENIE 💕

member: mark lee Hogwarts!au prompt: “you had no idea, did you?” word count: 971

— ⚡️✨—

for the past week at breakfast time, a snowy owl has been dropping off the sweetest letters in front of you. you were shocked for the first two days, flabbergasted that you had a secret admirer in the first place, but after that, you find yourself on the edge of your seat, waiting for an envelope to drop into your waiting hands.

your most recent letter waxed poetic and left your heart racing way after your first meal and into your last class of the day: double potions with gryffindor. you’re practically skipping to your classroom, feeling lighter than air with your house robe flowing behind you.

finding your usual spot in the potions classroom, you plant your bottom down into your seat and hum a tune while taking out all your necessary materials. your seatmate and friend, mark lee, sends you an amused look. “you’re happy today,” the gryffindor says, raising a brow at your humming.

you laugh, waving the envelope you just received in front of his face, “i got another letter.”

“what does it say?” mark asks curiously. you look at him and you see something else swimming in his eyes but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

“none of your business,” you sing back. he chuckles at your antics with a cute scrunch of his nose.

professor snape walks into the room and his presence commands silence, a hush falling in the classroom. he instructs you to turn to a certain page before announcing that the lesson would focus on brewing amortentia— the most powerful love potion in existence. the potion never actually imitates love but only causes a powerful infatuation with the person you give it to. mark panics for the first couple of minutes but refuses to tell you why, sputtering nonsense instead.

when your table’s potion is successfully brewed after two failures, curiosity takes over your head. you are well aware that amortentia’s scent is unique to each person and you suddenly wonder what mark smells.

“hey, markie,” you call.

“‘sup, dude?” he answers casually as he continues to stir the concoction in your cauldron out of sheer boredom. you notice him taking a few whiffs of the potion before signing happily. there’s this dopey, lovesick grin on his face.

“what do you smell?”

your question catches him off guard and he drops the ladle into the cauldron, making a bit of a mess on the table. “oh shit,” mark curses.

“bloody hell, mark,” you whine as droplets of the potion wet your notebook. you look at him, his lips forming into a small pout and you can’t help but giggle at his cute expressions.

“stop laughing at me,” he complains, blushing at his clumsiness, and your laughter increases in volume. it only stops when snape takes points away from both of your houses.

not long before suppertime, you find yourself making your way towards the owlry with a letter addressed to your mother in hand. hearing someone else in this particular tower at this time of night isn’t common so you sneak a peek behind the wall. you’re beyond surprised to see mark there, petting the same snowy owl that delivers letters to you every morning.

he’s cooing as the owl nuzzles into his touch and you can’t help but smile at the adorable sight. your eyes then zero in on the envelope he’s holding. it looks so similar to the stationary you receive each day and when he hands it over to the familiar owl, it all clicks in your head.

“markie,” you call out to him and he catches sight of you in the doorway. his eyes widen at your presence and he quickly waves his animal companion away with a swish of his hand.

“you didn’t see anything!” mark yells.

you shoot him a smug look that tells him otherwise, sending him into a blushing mess. “merlin’s pants,” he says under his breath.

“so, it’s you then?” you smile, taking a step closer to him. your pet owl, noticing your presence, perches herself up on your arm for some attention. you slip her your letter and a snip of food as she rubs her head into your hair. you give her one last pet before she flies out the window, heading straight to your mother.

“y—yeah,” he confessed with a defeated sigh. he rubs the back of his neck out of embarrassment. “you had no idea, did you?”

you take a few more steps until you’re standing right in front of him. mark does his best to avoid eye contact, his brown eyes darting from wall to wall. you smile at his nervous antics— if it the other way around, you’d probably react the same way too.

“not until just now,” you reply cheekily.

he groans, “you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“then how was i supposed to find out you were my secret admirer?”

“i don’t know, i was getting there.”

“sure you were,” you tease. your head is reeling and your face is flushing.

“stop,” mark whines and you can’t help but indulge in reading him for a few moments more, loving the way he squirms.

wrapping your arms around his middle, you snuggle into his chest and he shyly takes you in his hold. he smells exactly like the potion you brewed earlier— fresh laundry and a bit of lemon and mint.

“markie,” you say into his chest. he hums a reply, letting you know that he’s listening, and you feel the soothing vibrations. “does that mean in potions earlier…” your sentence drifts off but mark knows exactly where you’re going with it.

he chuckles, smiling down at you with the goofiest grin. it sends you heart racing and you feel so incredibly lightheaded. “yeah,” he laughs, “it smelled just like you.”

#neowritingsnet #prompt drabble game #Mark Lee #Mark Lee scenarios #Mark scenarios #Mark imagines #Mark Lee x reader #NCT x reader #Hogwarts au

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 3 years

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Foxtail & Wolfsbane Part 6

Summary: Your lifelong obsession to hunt down the Nine-Tailed Fox has not gone as expected, and seventeen years later, you find yourself coming back to the place where it all started: Hogwarts. However, with Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban and Headmaster Dumbledore’s hire of a certain Professor R. J. Lupin, you suddenly find yourself intertwined in the fates of those with whom you thought you had parted ways with long ago. [Multi-Post Story] [Rowan Scamander x Reader] [Remus Lupin x Reader] [Young Sirius Black x Reader] [Tristan Graves x Reader] [Severus Snape x Reader] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Reference to Bullying.] *Note: Rowan Scamander and Tristan Graves are OC characters. *Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

Note: Part 6 does not contain any smut. I have also uploaded Part 7 today, which does have smut.

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

By the time you woke up the next day, almost everyone was gone, on the Hogwarts Express and heading home for winter break. A wonderful glittery feeling of anticipation arose in you as you realized that you had the castle practically all to yourself for the rest of the break.

You looked at the clock on the wall. You’d slept past breakfast, but if you hurried, you could catch lunch. Then, you wanted to pick up on where you’d left off in your research on the Nine-Tailed Fox. You had started to trace out your map of where you were headed as soon as you graduated, and you were itching to finish it over winter break.

So, you scurried down to the lunch table before the food disappeared, and after stuffing a couple muffins into your bag, you ran up to your hiding spot. You made your way up the narrow stairs, and pulled yourself up, huffing a little. However, just as you started towards your map, you inadvertently froze, because Remus was lying back against the window, and he was dead asleep.

Your mouth fell open. You’d figured that Remus had gone home with everyone else. It never even crossed your mind that he would still be here over winter break.

You hesitated, not wanting to wake Remus up. But as you gazed at him sleeping away, with his back against the warm window, you became worried that the back of his neck would burn from the sunlight coming through the glass.

You pulled off your Ravenclaw sweater and tried very hard to sneak it around his head. You succeeded, because Remus was sleeping very deeply. You paused, wondering what he had been up to last night, during the Yule Ball, that had made him so exhausted today. Oh, wait… You sighed, as you did your best not to think about it anymore.

Having accomplished your mission, you started to turn away when you noticed what seemed to be a fresh scar on his neck. You frowned, and then you leaned in a little to have a closer look at his scar. With the way Remus was leaning back against the window, you could see his throat and, because his jumper hung so loosely off of him, you could also see down to his collarbones.

He’s covered in scars. Why does he have so many scars? Isn’t there any way to heal them all? You slowly leaned forward, until your lips were hovering just over his scar, nearly touching his neck.

Remus mumbled something vaguely, and he turned his head to the other side.

You blinked awake, with your senses coming back to you. Merlin, what the hell do you think you’re doing? you berated yourself. The poor boy’s sleeping. Leave him well alone, you creep.

Still crouching down because of the low ceiling, you turned around so that your back was to Remus’ front now. You started to move away like some awkward, long-legged crab, when suddenly, Remus shifted behind you once more. You paused, wondering if your movement had woken him up.

Then, one over-long, cozy sweater sleeve passed over the front of your chest. You expected to be pulled back, but Remus merely slumped forward, still asleep, with his cheek half-pressed against the back of your head. Then, his head slipped down onto your shoulder. But you must not have been very comfortable as a headrest for his height, because Remus suddenly brought up both arms and brought you even closer, dragging you into a hug, so that you were suddenly sitting smack in the middle of his legs. He was still sleeping, only now he was draped on top of you.

“Oh…” you breathed out softly. You weren’t quite sure what to do, but before you could move, Remus’ scent hit you – a warm, homey scent of something like earl grey tea, chocolate, and old favorite books.

You slowly bunched up into a little ball, bringing your knees up. Once you set his arms on your knees, you carefully laid your head down on his arms, feeling the slightly scratchy yet still very soft and comfortable sensation of wool against your cheek from his jumper. Inhaling the lovely scent of Remus Lupin, you prayed for your fluttering heart to still so that you wouldn’t wake him up. Your prayer must have worked, because you found yourself falling asleep in his arms.

Just before you fell asleep, you felt yourself breathing out slowly, and your heart felt so light and joyful.

Ah, ah, ah, that tiny voice in the back of your mind whispered. Look at you, getting all attached.

No, your more defensive side argued back. I don’t know Remus. Not really. So how could I have feelings for him?

But you want to get to know him, don’t you? the other voice said accusingly in your head.

I suppose that’s true, you admitted to yourself. I would like to get to know him. Your hands snuck up and gently clutched onto Remus’ arms. His arms were so frail and thin, but still, when they were all wrapped around you like this, you couldn’t help but feel so very warm.

Yes, I’d like to get to know him very much.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Remus woke up, he initially experienced a long moment of grogginess. Last night had been a particularly unforgiving full moon. Literally, the full moon had torn apart his flesh and bones for the wolf within him to come out. Transforming back meant less ripping, but far more aching.

This morning, Madam Pomfrey had given Remus an increased dosage of medication. The extra medicine helped with the aches, but it had also sent Remus’ usual sleep schedule off-kilter. Remus had crawled up here, thinking that you wouldn’t be back until after winter break. He had been gazing at your maps with a mixture of admiration and tender curiosity. But before he knew it, the soft sunshine coming in through the window had sent him straight to sleep.

Imagine Remus’ surprise then, when he woke up, not feeling horrible, as he usually did, but feeling quite comfortable and warm – almost healed – especially towards his front. Why do I feel like I’ve got a pillow or something wrapped in my arms? And what’s this scent of something like… like forest breeze, but with the slightest hint of something like an ocean? Or is it floral? Some seaside flower, maybe… Without meaning to, Remus was pulling you closer and softly nuzzling into the side of your neck, brushing his nose against your hair as he hazily tried to place your scent.

You were sleeping, too, and you unconsciously let out a soft sound when you felt Remus lean into you like that. That soft breath, almost spilling into a whine, was what finally woke Remus up. He was usually quite a light sleeper. In fact, he might have woken up a lot earlier, if he hadn’t been convinced that your shape and scent were all simply a part of some lovely, lovely dream.

But as soon as he realized that this loveliness was you, actually you, and not just a dream, Remus panicked. And it wasn’t simply because he was startled to have you in his arms (though this alone was cause enough for panic), but when Remus saw the back of your neck peeking out from the curtains of your hair (as you were slumped forward and resting your head on his arms), that horrible werewolf instinct to bite came out of nowhere and -

No! Remus immediately tried to stand up, and he became an instant mess – your sweater fell from his shoulders and he bumped his head on the low ceiling. Suddenly deprived of any support behind you, you fell back against his legs. Remus quickly reached down to help you up, only to have his long jumper sleeves get in the way.

“Bollocks,” he cursed, trying to free his hands to get to you.

Sleepily, you mumbled, “Bol…locks?” You looked up at him and yawned a little. “G’ morning, Remus.”

Remus paused. His heart thumped in his chest. “It’s – It’s afternoon now,” he told you, trying to hide how flustered he was.

Still with your eyes half-shut, you turned around a little, and you tugged at him gently, pulling him back down. “Sit back down,” you mumbled. “Or else you’ll bump your head on the ceiling again.”

Remus slowly and shakily sat back down. As he did, your eyes opened and you found yourself staring at his newest scar again. Blinking a bit sleepily, you frowned as you reached out and dazedly traced it with your finger.

Remus shivered. Then, before he could stop himself, Remus reached up and quickly grasped your hand in his. “Please don’t,” he whispered.

You paused. He sounds so fragile.

“Why…?” you murmured. “Why are you always getting hurt?”

Remus had no answer for you. He could only stare into your haunting gaze, until finally, he just mumbled, a bit pathetically, “I tripped over James’ broomstick.”

You paused, knowing that there was no way tripping over a broomstick would result in such a perfectly linear scar. But you instinctively knew better than to press him on this. Instead, you said softly, “Okay,” and you hugged him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for a long, sweet moment.

* * * * * * * * * *

As the day carried on, it began to rain outside, and the mild, sunny winter’s afternoon melded into the beginnings of a cold winter storm.

“Remus.”

“Yes?” Remus tried hard to hide the flutter he felt in his heart as he glanced up from his comic book (that Peter had lent him) to look at you. The fact that you had slipped into calling him by his first name still brought him joy to no end. But you made it appear so casual; you weren’t even looking at him while you called his name. Instead, you were staring down at your favorite Ravenclaw sweater.

“Look!” you cried out indignantly, suddenly holding up the sweater. “That’s you!”

“What?” Remus said nervously, the smile sliding off his face as a bolt of fear struck through him. Have I upset her? But why? How?

“That’s your footprint, you idiot. And on my favorite jumper!”

Sure enough, Remus’ shoe print was plastered on the back of your jumper, because of how Remus had panicked and hastily gotten up, only to have your jumper slip from his shoulders and get trampled under his feet.

“Why does your foot have to be so big?” you wondered aloud. “Are you secretly Bigfoot?”

Remus paled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

At this, you broke and laughed. “Of course you didn’t, Remus.”

“Although…” you laid the sweater back down on your lap as you quipped, “it is my favorite jumper.”

“Is it really bad? Did I rip it? I could – I s’pose I could patch it up for you…”

You looked back up at Remus and saw his guilty expression.

“Oh, Remus,” you sighed. “Don’t look so worried. I was only teasing. It’s nothing a quick Cleaning Spell won’t fix, you know that.”

You came towards Remus until you were sitting next to him, your back on the wall besides his. “But I wouldn’t mind if you put a patch on it,” you told him. “I like the idea of my jumper matching your cardigan.”

Remus looked a bit embarrassed as he tried to explain, “It’s not exactly a fashion choice. I do it because – um, to make clothes last longer. I don’t think you want - ”

You held up your jumper. “Please? I’ll trade you for it. I’ll do something you want me to.”

Remus’ mouth fell open slightly. “Er, it’s really not advisable. Patches aren’t exactly trendy.”

You smiled at him. “And have you ever known me to be a trend-follower?”

“Well, no,” Remus admitted.

You held out your jumper to him again. “Please?”

Remus hesitantly looked down at your jumper, with his footprint on the back, and then up at you, and then back down at the jumper. Finally, he sighed. “All right. Let me get my stuff, then.”

You watched Remus go down the stairs to head back to Gryffindor Tower. As soon as he was gone, you also raced down as fast as you could to the kitchens, where you asked for two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

* * * * * * * * * *

You watched with fascination as Remus expertly mended your jumper, putting a small beige corduroy patch on the back of the blue jumper. You loved that there would be a patch of him, of Remus, on your favorite piece of clothing.

“How did you learn to mend clothes so well?” you asked him curiously.

“My mother taught me when I was very young.”

“Oh.” You hesitated, wondering if you should ask Remus about his family. You knew that family could be a very touchy subject for some people (it certainly was for you), and you didn’t want to make Remus upset. But you were very curious, so finally, you ventured to say, “Remus, I didn’t know you were going to be at Hogwarts over winter vacation. I assumed you’d go home.”

“I thought the exact same about you,” Remus replied.

You shrugged. “I guess I could go home, and I do feel a little bad about not going home. But they don’t really want me there.”

“They?”

“My mum and brother.”

“Ah.”

“What about you? Why aren’t you going home?”

“Um…” Remus paused. Well, whenever I go home, my parents are very loving, but they always want to try new anti-werewolf treatments on me, and it’s humiliating and painful. Remus carefully lifted one shoulder up into an awkward shrug. “I s’pse… it’s just…” He fumbled over his words, not knowing what to tell you.

I knew it. I shouldn’t have asked that. That’s a sore spot for Remus, you realized quickly. You reached out and gently brushed back the stray curl of hair that had fallen in front of his face again. “Remus,” you said softly, “you don’t have to answer, and you know you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Remus tried to keep his eyes down on the ground between you two, but he couldn’t help except to look up at you. Then, he became aware of how your fingers lingered on his face, gently tracing another of his old scars. He blinked. Then, he slowly shifted away from you.

You frowned a little, but you let your hand drop. A brief moment of silence passed. But in that quiet moment, both you and Remus could hear the wind whistling outside heavily. The two of you turned around to look out at the window.

“Wow, the snow’s really piling up out there,” Remus noticed.

You nodded. “Makes me want to go outside.”

Remus looked over at you. “Go outside? Shouldn’t it make you want to stay inside, where it’s safe and warm?”

You were already shaking your head back and forth. “No,” you insisted. “I want to be outside, out there.” You pressed your palms against the window, causing the glass to fog up around your hand. Wistfully, you murmured, “The Nine-Tailed Fox loves snow, Remus. I bet if I went out there now, I could find one…”

Remus gazed at you, watching your soft breath and your small hands mist up the cold window. “Why do you want to see the Nine-Tailed Fox so much?”

You paused. Your eyes fell onto the window, no longer looking out at the snow.

All at once, Remus became nervous that he had asked you a too-personal question. He blurted out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to pry, either.”

You merely smiled a little. “Why are you sorry? You’re silly, Remus. I’ve never known anyone as thoughtful as you.”

You turned away from the window and came over to Remus, sitting down beside him. “I was just thinking about how to answer you because no one’s ever asked me that before. Everyone just, you know, writes me off as weird.”

You paused to gather your thoughts for a moment. “I guess there’s just something so beautiful about the idea of a mystical spirit who can shape-shift.”

Remus twitched nervously beside you. Shape-shift, he thought anxiously, and a chill ran down his spine.

You continued, “You know, for a Nine-Tailed Fox, the older they grow, the more tails they have, and the stronger their powers become – especially their powers of disguise. But it takes a while. You have to live at least a hundred years to get your second tail.”

You paused. “I guess it’s a bit sad, actually, now that I say it out loud. They must be very lonely, waiting for their tails somewhere out in the snowy forests.” You sighed softly. “But you see? For a Nine-Tailed Fox, their ability to disguise themselves is their power. At any point, they could transform into spirit form and roam the world freely. But for me, I’m… stuck. When I go home, I’m stuck. When I’m here at Hogwarts, I’m stuck. I can’t seem to be who I want to be without being ripped down, somehow. I just want to move on from all this. I want to be free.”

Remus stayed silent, letting your words wash over him. His heart ached as he, too, so deeply understand that desire to finally be free… His hand clutched your jumper, which was in his lap, tightly for a moment.

“Remus,” you whispered, still gazing out of the window, where the powdery snow was beginning to fall in earnest.

“Hm?”

“Can I tell you something?” you asked him. Your voice was quiet and controlled, but inside of your chest, your heart was thundering. You were about to confess something that you’d never confessed aloud.

Remus replied easily, “‘Course. Anything.”

I wonder if I’m making a mistake admitting this. It makes me feel too vulnerable to say it aloud. But… But…

“…It feels bad. It feels really bad,” you whispered. “And it’s scary.”

Remus frowned. “What feels bad?”

“When people make fun of you,” you admitted. “When you’re caught in a net, and people are laughing at you because they think you look ridiculous struggling on the floor, trapped in ropes. When you’re helpless except to see people breaking your things, ripping your clothes, and they’re still laughing at you.”

Remus’ breath caught. He knew exactly what you were referring to.

“It feels like you could die, and people would still just be laughing.”

You felt your eyes starting to become wet. No, no, no, I’m not going to cry, you told yourself. Don’t dump this all on Remus.

Remus didn’t know what to say. A tiny part of his heart was happy because you’d finally trusted him enough to tell him about how you were struggling. But mostly, his heart just hurt for you, seeing you so scared and vulnerable.

Remus bit down on his lower lip, and he thought desperately of what he might say to you to make you feel better, but he couldn’t come up with anything. Finally, he scooted over to you. He gently pulled you away from the window, and he tugged your jumper back down over your head. You blinked in surprise, as you felt the soft fabric bunch up around your shoulders.

“Arms up,” Remus told you, and though his voice indicated that he was more than a little embarrassed, he went through with it as he helped you put on your jumper, guiding your hands through your sleeves, and finally tugging down your jumper until it was on correctly.

Then, he said to you, “Look at the back.”

You looked over your shoulder, and in the glass window’s reflection, you could see the back of your jumper, and you saw that soft little beige corduroy patch now covering where Remus’ footprint had been.

“If you think it looks strange, you can be honest with me. I can just take the stitches out,” Remus said.

But you shook your head, and your eyes lit up in clear delight. “I love this! Thank you, Remus!”

Remus smiled at you, but he also cocked his head a little bit, as he was surprised that you liked it so much. People usually look down on patches as a sign of poverty or laziness. Why is she so happy about having one on her favorite jumper?

What Remus didn’t realize, of course, was that you associated that patch with him.

You looked back at Remus, and suddenly, your smile fell. “Wait, Remus, I was supposed to do something for you, too. In return for you stitching this patch onto my jumper. And all I did was… complain to you.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Not at all.”

“No,” you insisted, moving closer to Remus. You reached out and softly put your hand on his arm. “Really, let me do something in return. You did me a favor. It’s only fair I do something for you, too.”

“It’s really not necessary,” Remus assured you. As Remus spoke, he instinctively shifted back from you. Your hand slipped down on his arm, until your fingers brushed over the back of his hand.

“Please?” you said, just then, gazing at Remus with unintentional puppy eyes.

Remus paused.

A beat passed between the two of you, and in that short second, Remus’ mind just about melted into a puddle.

Oh, God, he thought in his head. Look at her. She’s sitting there, reaching out to me, and pleading for me…

And still, you were waiting patiently for him to say something.

Her eyes, I didn’t realize how soft her gaze could become…

Finally, Remus managed to murmur, “You already did it.”

“Hm?” you asked, puzzled.

“I was wondering if you’d ever trust me enough to tell me how you felt about what was happening to you,” Remus explained. “Selfishly, I wanted you to trust me.” Selfish, because I’ll never tell you about how I’m a werewolf, Remus thought to himself. Selfish, because I’ll never reciprocate the vulnerability you’re showing me now.

You gave him a confused look. “What?

“I’m glad you told me,” Remus repeated simply.

Remus saw the way your face scrunched up, almost in distaste, and he chuckled softly. She hates seeming weak, doesn’t she? She’s almost like Sirius, in that way.

“But don’t you… I mean, for so long, I’ve been putting out this image that I don’t care,” you murmured. “And all this time, you knew? You’ve just been waiting for me to say it?”

Remus smiled warmly at you. He admitted, in a soft tone, “Something like that.”

“Remus.” The way you said his name turned it into a statement of disbelief and irritation. Here you were, telling Remus something you’d never told anyone, expecting it to be a surprise, and Remus was already two steps ahead of you, already fully knowing this about you and ready to embrace you with open arms. It was so much compassion and charity that frankly, you felt like throwing up.

Seeing your expression turn even grumpier, Remus thought he’d better explain himself. “I thought you were very brave for the way you acted, but I don’t really believe that those things can’t affect us. We’re only human.”

Only human. The words rang out in Remus’ mind. Bitterly, he thought, I wish.

Still disappointed in yourself, especially when you wanted to appear strong in front of Remus, you began to turn away from him, but then you heard Remus say quietly, “What I’m saying is that I understand why you want to see the Nine-Tailed Fox so much. I can see what you mean about wanting to be free.”

“And…” Remus said softly, “I’m also saying to you that I wish you’d let me be there for you when you’re struggling or scared. You’ve got to know by now that I wouldn’t ever judge you for being hurt.”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t dare move. You were glad that you had turned your face away from him. But you thought to yourself, I wonder if Remus can hear it – the sound of my heart beating a hundred miles an hour…

After a moment, you turned back around to look at Remus. Your gaze went straight to the strange scar on Remus’ neck. You murmured aloud, “You, too, Rem.”

It was Remus’ turn to drop his gaze, as he thought to himself sadly, if she really knew, she would never say that…

You sat there uncertainly, as Remus was now looking everywhere except at you. Oh no, you thought, biting down on your lower lip, as you saw Remus’ brow furrow, I said something wrong, didn’t I? But I meant it. I want to be there for him, too.

“Remus…” you called out softly. Why is it that every time I reciprocate his kindness, Remus suddenly becomes so distant from me? Am I doing something wrong? I don’t mean to pressure him or anything like that.

“Yes?” Remus replied too quickly for it to be natural.

You fell silent, now gnawing anxiously on your lower lip. But after a moment, you forced yourself to exhale and say, “Just, the hot chocolate’s getting cold.”

“Ah. Right. Thanks.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, you woke up to see the entirety of the Hogwarts grounds covered in fresh, glittering snow. You raced upstairs and pulled a flustered Remus out of Gryffindor Tower, dragging him down the stairs and out of the castle into the winter wonderland.

“W-Wait!” Remus called out, right as you tugged him straight into a pile of snow.

“Pf!” Remus suddenly inhaled a mouthful of snow. You’d been so busy pulling him along that you hadn’t been looking in front of you, and you had consequently walked straight off the path and into the tall snowbanks lining either side of the path down to Hagrid’s.

“Remus!”

A moment later, Remus felt the snow around him shift. You were furiously digging your way into the snow to him. You grasped his arm and gave a solid yank – and he was out again.

“Sorry!” You hurriedly brushed the snow off of him.

“It’s all right. But where - ?”

“To get Artemis, of course!”

Five minutes later, Hagrid was shouting out after you, “Don’ go out too far, now!”, and you were racing into the Forbidden Forest, with Artemis already bounding out in front of you.

Remus was just as graceful as you, but not as energetic because frankly, he was confused as to what the hell you were doing. Naturally, he was lagging behind a little ways.

“Artemis!” you called out.

The little fox stopped and turned its small head back towards you.

“Wait for our friend!”

Artemis obediently came trotting back to you. You carefully picked her up and cradled her in your arms.

Remus caught up to you only a few seconds later. He smiled when he saw the two of you. He reached down to pet Artemis’ head, but Artemis hissed angrily at Remus.

“Artemis!” you chided. “What’s wrong with you? This is Remus. He’s your friend.”

Remus sadly drew his hand away. He tried not to let it show on his face. “It’s fine,” he said, managing a smile.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured, gazing down reproachfully at Artemis. “Don’t hiss at him, okay? It’s not polite, Art.”

“No, really,” Remus told you. “Besides, Artemis has sharp senses, doesn’t she? So, maybe you should trust Artemis’ instinct, too.”

You paused. I should trust Artemis’ instinct, too? What does that mean?

But before you could think on the question any further, Artemis pushed her little snout into the front of your cloak pocket, and you felt her gnaw at your wand.

“Hey! Don’t do that, either.” You hastily pulled Artemis away from your chest. Instead, you grasped the little fox under her front legs and held her up in the air. “That’s my wand. Why do you keep trying to eat it, huh?”

“She probably senses the magic coming from the wand,” Remus remarked thoughtfully. “I’ll bet that Artemis sensing all this magic around her makes her feel insecure, and she wants to be magical, too.”

“Oh…” You sighed, and you tucked Artemis back into your chest again. “All right,” you said softly, “I guess you can gnaw on it a little. But only a little, you understand? It’s my wand, not a fox pacifier, if there even is such a thing.”

You swore you felt Artemis’ mouth go up at the corners, flashing into a little grin at her victory. She bit the wand again, but then she sprung out of your arms and bounded happily through the snow.

You closed your eyes and counted to ten.

“What’re you…?” Remus began -

Ten! Your eyes flashed open.

“Come on, Remus!” You raced off into the snow, tracking Artemis by following her tiny little pawprints in the fluffy snow.

Only a few seconds later, your footprints were marked along the snow along Artemis’, and just a few more seconds after that, a larger pair of footprints were indenting the snow right along yours.

* * * * * * * * * *

That evening, Professor Flitwick came to give you a letter from your younger brother. It was a Christmas card.

I guess Mum still insists on using Muggle mail, you thought. The post comes late every year.

You opened the letter, and you saw your younger brother’s handwriting scrawled out on the page. The letter said:

“Merry Christmas! I hope you’re doing well at Hogwarts, although I don’t really understand why you aren’t coming home for the holidays. Is it normal for magical students not to come home for the holidays? Anyways, Mum keeps saying that you probably won’t be able to come for my graduation, either, but I’m sure you will – if you can, of course. No worries if you can’t. But the point is, I believe in you.

Mum also says that I shouldn’t get so caught up in our family being together, that you wouldn’t give up magic for us in any case, but I don’t see why the two have to be mutually exclusive. I love you, sis, and I’m thinking that should be enough for us, right? Anyhow, take care, be warm, and love you lots.

Your younger brother.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Remus arrived at your hiding spot later, he found you sitting on the floor and staring at your maps on the wall. But there was an open letter lying beside you, which was clearly not in your handwriting.

“Did you get post?” Remus asked you conversationally.

“Yes. A letter from my brother.”

“Oh. And how is he?”

You hesitated, tracing the geographical line across the mountains on the map with the tip of your finger. “He’s fine. I think.”

“And… are you?”

You didn’t answer for a long moment. Then, you said, as firmly as you could, “I will be.”

“But you aren’t now?” Remus’ voice was sad. Sad for you.

You didn’t respond right away. You knew you had to be strong, and yet, when you heard Remus’ soft voice, it was difficult for you to keep putting up your front. Conflicted, you ended up remaining silent.

“May I read this?” Remus asked gently, reaching down to pick up the letter.

“Sure,” you said quietly.

You waited for Remus to finish reading it before you mumbled out, “It’s true, I guess. I wouldn’t give up magic for my family. Mum is right about me, not my little brother.”

Remus folded up the letter again, and he set it back down on the ground.

The two of you were quiet for several minutes.

“Don’t worry about it, Remus,” you said, trying to sound dismissive. “I’ll get over it soon enough.”

Remus nodded, but he looked entirely unconvinced. Then, a minute later, Remus asked you, “You missed Defense against the Dark Arts that day, right?”

“What day?”

“That day McLaggen tried to trip you.”

“Oh. Yes. And he did trip me. I didn’t notice the string around my ankle until after I’d fallen.”

“Well, we reviewed Patronus Charms again that day,” Remus told you, and he kept his voice even and calm. “I can show you, if you’d like.”

You watched Remus curiously as he pulled out his wand.

But then, Remus stilled. Oh no, he remembered, my Patronus is a… wolf. I hate conjuring it, and I don’t want her to see it. She’s so quick. What if she figures me out? He sighed and lowered his wand.

“Remus?”

“Maybe you should do it. It makes more sense if you do it,” Remus fibbed.

“Oh, okay.” You went over to your bag and fetched your wand before coming back to Remus.

The simple sight of you walking over to Remus, coming to sit beside him, with your worn-out sneakers softly padding across the wooden boards and you in your oversized lump of a sweater with your head ducked down and wand clutched to your chest, made Remus’ heart go awry. He tried to hide it, however, subtly shifting away from you as you sat beside him. You pretended not to notice, as you waited patiently for him to start explaining the Patronus Charm to you.

“Right, so, you know what the Patronus Charm does: It conjures positive energy to deflect negative energy,” Remus explained, smoothly slipping into his “teaching” mode. “To do that, you need to think of a happy memory, the happiest one you have. You have to feel yourself brimming with happiness.”

“That’s just it,” you replied. “I can’t think of one.”

“Nothing?” Remus said, surprised.

“I have happy memories,” you told him quickly. “Just nothing strong enough to create a Patronus.”

“Hm…” Remus slowly ran his knuckles across his chin a few times. “Well, let’s try the Charm with your strongest memory, for starters.”

You frowned. “Are you secretly thinking that I’m ungrateful?”

“No - “ Remus began quickly.

“ – Because that’s how I feel,” you finished, the guilt seeping through into your tone. “See, my happiest memory is my younger brother being born. But for some reason, he didn’t get to come to Hogwarts. Apparently, he’s not magical enough, which is completely idiotic, as he’s far more imaginative than me. Whenever I think of him, I get so happy, but I feel so guilty. If you saw his face, Remus, the face he makes whenever I leave to come back to school… That’s why I don’t go home for Christmas, you know. Even though I’m sure it makes me an even worse sister, I don’t want to have to see his disappointed face again when I leave after the holidays.”

Remus’ mouth fell open, and he stared at you, unsure of what to say in response.

“Never mind. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told you all of that,” you said hastily, picking up your wand. “Um, okay, so – Expecto Patronum!”

Nothing happened, of course.

“All right. Wait, just wait a moment,” Remus told you. He reached over and grasped your wand hand in his, and you blinked as you realized how large and graceful Remus’ hands were, with his fingers wrapping so easily over yours.

“I think I know where you’re going wrong. See, it’s not just automatically the ‘happiest’ memory. It’s the memory that genuinely makes you feel warm and compassionate and light inside. So, don’t pick a memory you associate with guilt. You might think that you were supposed to be happy, but that’s not true happiness.” Remus shifted behind you, so that he was still holding onto your hand, but now he was sitting behind you, his legs outside of yours, his chest pressed to your back, and his chin just over your shoulder as he leaned forward.

“It can be a simple memory,” Remus told you. “It can be a quiet memory.”

You slowly closed your eyes. Simple… Quiet… Like this moment now…

“Lose yourself in it,” Remus murmured into your ear. “Allow it to surround you and fill you up. Feel the warmth in your mind and your body.”

Lose yourself in him… Feel his warmth… His kindness, and his body all around me, keeping me warm and safe… Remus… You let out a long, quiet breath.

Remus’ lips softly grazed your ear, as he whispered, “I think you’re there. Say the spell now.”

You could feel his warm breath brush across your cheek. In a quiet, yet powerful whisper, you spoke aloud, “Expecto Patronum!”

You gasped as a silver animal sprouted beautifully from the tip of your wand. First, it seemed like a vague wisp all tangled together, but then something began swishing – and then it fanned out, to create several tails, until they were all swishing beautifully through the air one after the other…

“Oh Merlin,” you breathed out, as your Patronus grew to its definite shape, illuminating the entire attic room with beautiful silver light.

Your Patronus dashed happily across the room, swift on its feet, and then it dove down and came to you. Your eyes widened and you sunk back a little into Remus’ chest as the silver animal paused right in front of you, only inches from your face. Remus quickly wrapped both of his arms around you, instinctively hugging you against his chest. However, the silver animal merely bent its head down and gave you a ghostly lick on the tip of your nose before it disappeared.

“That was a fox, wasn’t it?” Remus murmured aloud in awe.

You nodded, as you slowly realized what you had just seen.

Remus began to wonder aloud, “How many tails - ?”

“Nine of them… Nine Tails!” You suddenly leapt onto your knees and turned around, still in Remus’ embrace.

“Careful!” Remus said. “Your knees!”

“Never mind that!” you cried out joyfully. “Remus! Don’t you see?” You flung your arms around Remus, hugging him so tightly to you. “We were the first ones to see the Nine-Tailed Fox! We saw it together!” You felt like crying, you were so happy.

Flustered, Remus’ hands awkwardly caught you by the waist. He tried to hold you up a little to prevent you from scraping your knees on the floor again. He had noticed that your knees had finally started to heal after McLaggen’s cruel prank on you, and he desperately wanted to keep you from hurting yourself again. But you didn’t care, and you continued to squeeze Remus in your arms with all of your might. Your embrace was tight enough that Remus was kind-of having a hard time breathing, but Remus didn’t mind – in fact, he loved how tightly you were holding him. And after a moment of being in your arms, Remus just couldn’t help himself. He slowly melted into your touch, and his hands slipped over your sides until he had his arms around your waist, too, and he was embracing you right back. God, he was holding you, and you were so warm and little and excited in his arms, and if only he could keep you in his arms forever, Remus knew he would never want for anything again. And you were so happy; and your happiness made Remus’ heart feel lighter than it had in a long, long time.

Remus squeezed you even tighter in his arms, and you yelped softly in surprise before you both broke out laughing, still holding each other and enjoying being with each other in that odd space of yours, filled with maps and documents – all on the Nine-Tailed Fox. And Remus, too, slowly found himself falling in love with the beautiful idea of the fox because it humanized the wolf within him.

A moment later, you buried your face against Remus’ shoulder so enthusiastically that you tackled him right to the floor.

“Sorry,” you said breathlessly. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

But a second later, you were beaming brightly again.

“Oh, that was amazing!” you whispered fervently. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I didn’t – uh – do anything,” Remus replied, blushing all over his face as he felt your soft little body pressed up all along his. You were both lying on the floor now, with you lying on top of Remus.

“’Course you did,” you responded at once. “It would never have happened without you. I couldn’t even cast a Patronus until tonight. I never even dreamed it would be the Nine-Tailed Fox.”

You rested your head against Remus’ chest, and you smiled to yourself, just enjoying this perfect moment. You closed your eyes and you envisioned the silver fox in your head once more, and you counted all of the tails in your mind’s eyes.

Remus carefully lifted his head to see you curled up on top of him, with your eyes shut peacefully, and a beautiful smile gracing your face. With the way you were lying on top of him, Remus could also see the small patch on the back of your jumper that he’d sewn on for you not too many days ago. He swallowed as subtly as he could.

But the next moment, his heart leapt into frantic mode again, as you mumbled out sleepily to him, “Remus, you have… really nice hands…”

Remus’ eyes widened, and he stared at you until he was sure that you were fast asleep. Then, he gently laid his head back down onto the floor, and he lifted his hands up carefully into the air. He stared up at them, puzzled but pleased. His mind was spinning; he was dizzy from everything that had happened in this the past hour with you.

As the minutes ticked by, you shifted ever so slightly on top of Remus, but your tiny movement immediately made Remus react protectively. His hands came up at once to catch you, if needed. But then, Remus realized that you weren’t about to slip off of him, that you’d merely moved your head just a little to nestle your cheek against his chest.

She looks so comfortable lying on top of me, Remus thought, blinking down at you, for he was a bit tired himself. But I wonder if she’s cold. I know she’s wearing her jumper, but I wish I had a blanket or something to wrap her with. Remus could spot his scarf in the corner of the room, but it was too far away to reach it from where he was lying, and Remus was loathe to move one jot. Finally, Remus’ hands naturally came up, as if to hold you. But then, he awkwardly stuttered to a stop.

No, he berated himself instantly, as he had been trained to do ever since he became a werewolf.

In that moment, everything that his mother and father had said to him over the past years rang out in his mind:

“My precious son, we love you so much, but you cannot form too deep a bond with anyone. You understand why, don’t you, Remus? It’s just not safe, for you or for them.”

“Remus, my boy, we know you have a group of friends at school. That’s good. But never be alone with someone, all right? You know what we mean by that, don’t you? Don’t be too close with just one person. It won’t end well.”

But surely… He peeked down at you, as you snoozed away on his chest, with a few strands of your blue hair stuck to your cheek, and the rest of it fanned out over his chest. Surely this is all right. She’s just a friend, isn’t she? Like James, Sirius, and Peter. Like Lily. She’s just a friend.

And I didn’t want to bite her. No, it was just a – a moment of confusion from just waking up and – Right, I would never want to… bite her. Remus swallowed nervously. His heart was pulling in two completely opposite directions: in one direction, it was purely friendship, and he could be with you; and in the other, it was something more than friendship, and he couldn’t be with you anymore.

Yeah, just friends. Right. Remus tentatively brought one hand up and gently patted your back, and he watched you with such a warm gaze as you let out sleepy mumbles of contentment in time to his softly and soothingly patting you, until Remus’ hand stilled as well, resting on the back of your jumper, right over where the beige little patch was. Remus, too, fell asleep, with you still lying right on top of him. It was difficult to say who felt warmer and safer in that moment: you, lying on top of Remus, with his hand on your back, keeping you to him, or Remus, who was kept warm by your soft little figure all nestled up against him and protecting him from any of the cold drafts that whispered their way through the invisible cracks in the old glass window.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Mm… Rem…?”

Hearing your soft, sleepy voice, Remus woke up to see you waking up on top of him. You were blinking awake, still lying on top of his chest, lashes fluttering about as you came to consciousness, short blue hair a right mess, and with one cheek pinker than the other because of how you’d fallen asleep with your cheek pressed up against his chest. In that moment, Remus knew he was done for. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He wanted you. He didn’t know if this was love, or infatuation, or what, but he didn’t just want to be your friend. Damn it, he wanted to wake up with you like this every day.

The poor boy was barely conscious, and certainly far from coherent, when he realized this. So, naturally, the first thing that came out of Remus’ mouth that morning was, “Fuck.”

“Huh?” you said, face all scrunched-up with confusion and because you were struggling to open your eyes against the bright rays of sun streaming through the glass window.

Faster than you could comprehend, Remus gently but very firmly grasped your little waist with his hands. He set you down on the floor besides him, so that you were no longer on top of him. Then, Remus grabbed his scarf from the ground, wrapped it tightly around your neck, murmured a soft but frantic “good morning” to you, and then raced out of the room. You sat there, stunned, with a thick Gryffindor scarf around your neck. You wondered what had just happened, trying to make sense of the atmosphere left-behind by Remus’ carefully-tamped-down-yet-undeniably-and-remarkably-chaotic behavior that morning.

* * * * * * * * * *

Remus didn’t come back up to your hiding spot – our hiding spot, you amended in your head - that day. You had hoped he would, but in your heart of hearts, you weren’t surprised. Because you could feel it. You could feel that Remus didn’t want to get too close to you. Every time you did something slightly more intimate than normal – like when you pushed his stray curl out of his face or your fingers brushed the back of his hand – he would hold still for a couple of seconds, letting you do whatever it seemed like you wanted, but then he would subtly shift away from you, making you let go of him and moving away from you. You knew that certain things were okay, like when you leaned your head on his shoulder to take naps, or when you let him hug you and use you as a pillow as he took naps, when you were both tired from studying or just tired from life, but that was all.

It only makes sense, though, since he already likes Dorcas, you acknowledged to yourself, even if that recognition made you feel lonely. Remus is a gentleman, and a decent person. He wouldn’t want to give me the wrong message. I’m sure he’s only so close to me now because we’re basically the only two people in our year still at the school.

It made you feel sad, but still, you truly wouldn’t mind not touching him at all, as long as you got to see Remus. You just liked being around him. For one, Remus made your hiding space feel like something much more charming than it actually was, as he had slowly (but neatly) filled the space with tea pots and cups, books, records, chocolates and now, even some knitting stuff.

Besides that, there was something about Remus’ gentle and unassuming nature that meant that his mere presence made him a constant bright spot in your life. And he didn’t have to do anything special to make you feel better. It was fine if he was quiet or tired or grumpy on a particular day. All of that was okay. It just made you more caring, because you wanted to cheer him up the same way that he managed to cheer you up.

So far, the way you had dealt with this was by trying to quietly support Remus. For example, you never pressed Remus about how he got his injuries, or about how exhausted he was when he showed up some days (so exhausted that on those days, you stayed close to him all evening because he was liable to fall asleep on top of at any given moment). You also never asked about his family or his financial position, though it was clear from the way he patched his clothes and squeezed out every bit of ink from his ink pots that he wasn’t exactly well-off.

Sometimes, though, you wondered if your relationship might progress in some manner if only you were brave enough to openly talk about relationships and about intimacy. But you didn’t want the subject of Rowan to come out at all, not when you felt that no matter how resolved the issue was in your head, there was some un-closeable and undefined gap still existing in your heart.

You sighed and fell back, lying down on the floor. You wondered if you were lying where Remus had been lying this morning. Waking up with him had been so unexpected, but so wonderful. You imagined that he was underneath you again, keeping you feeling anchored to something warm and safe. Your hands fell softly on either side of you and gently patted the floor on either side of you, wondering if you’d feel anything remaining of Remus’ warmth. But of course, there was nothing. You let out a long sigh as you stared up at the ceiling of the room.

What do I do now? Do I just let it go, or do I try to talk to him? If I talk to him, what could I possibly say?

You gave a little groan and you rolled over onto your side, bringing your knees up to curl up on the floor. Why is everything about relationships so difficult?

* * * * * * * * * *

It was the last day of winter break. You hesitantly played with the wrapping on the chocolate bar in your hands for a long moment, before you found the courage to knock on Remus’ dormitory door.

“Remus? Are you in there?”

Inside of the dormitory room, Remus’ quill stopped on his parchment. He’d been sitting at his desk, trying and failing miserably to get some of his homework done before the first day back tomorrow. Upon hearing your voice, he froze.

Then, he heard you say, uncertainly, “Should I… just go away? I can leave you be, if that’s – if that’s what you want.

Wait, is she really going to leave? Remus jumped up to his feet, and he hurriedly crossed his room to open the door.

Your eyes flashed up at Remus, just as his eyes flashed down to see the chocolate bar in your hands. Seeing Remus staring at your hands, you announced awkwardly, “Um, yes. Here. A favor returned.”

“It’s your favorite chocolate,” you informed him. You reached out and stuck the chocolate bar into the front pocket of his cardigan. You were careful not to touch him, but that left the chocolate bar in a precarious state, almost hanging out of his pocket.

Remus only nodded.

“Remus,” you began, for you had prepared a whole speech of what you were going to say. But in that moment, his eyes met yours, and you found yourself going mute.

But then, he murmured, “Yes…?”

You shook your head a little to clear your mind, and then you said, in as firm a voice as possible, “Listen, I never meant to make you uncomfortable. And it seems like you’ve already promised someone that you wouldn’t be close to another person.”

How does she know? Remus thought, as he took in your words. I promised my parents, and I promised myself, that I wouldn’t get too close to anyone. But how could she possibly know that? And if she knows that, then does she also know about my… my condition?

Remus barely managed to give you a stiff nod.

His heart dropped straight into his stomach when you sighed and replied, “All right, I get it. You should be careful, then. Because, you know, if you’re too careless with your love, I think you could hurt the very person you love…”

You were talking about Rowan, of course, but Remus froze at your words. In his mind, they were almost verbatim what his parents had said to him, and of course you didn’t know this, but Remus had been fighting off the guilt of spending all this time with you alone, even (and especially) the days right after his full moon transformation. Because, as his parents had told him many times, there had been incidents where werewolves, right before or after the day and night of the full moon, had had preceding or remaining after-effects of their werewolf psychology, and they had been physically violent towards any humans near them.

But I’d never hurt her, Remus had promised and soothed himself. She has the most soothing presence in the world. Watching her get lost in her research, seeing how she lights up when she talks to me about how she’s going to take off right after graduation to be the first person to see this fox in over a thousand years, her scent and her softness, those little ties and sweaters she wears that look so nice on her, her pretty blue hair and how it glints in the sunlight, and most of all, the way she touches and looks at me with such light in her eyes – a certain peace, and almost… gratitude? She reaches for my hand or leans on my shoulder as though nothing’s wrong with me. I feel like a human being around her. I feel valued for me around her…

However, there had been times, particularly the day before or after the full moon, when you’d held his hand for a bit too long or you’d leaned in to show him some research you’d been working on, only to have your hair fall forward and to expose your neck to him, and the sight of your soft little neck would cause Remus to… to… Remus would shrink away shamefully, unable to look at you while desperately trying to be subtle in how he was moving away from you. Still, Remus would see your face fall, and you’d bite your lower lip carefully before also shifting away, no longer talking about the research that had so excited you just two seconds ago. Remus hated that, hated taking away your excitement, hated taking away your lovely brightness, hated discouraging the natural way you looked at him or touched him… But he couldn’t take the risk of hurting you. He simply couldn’t.

And now, to hear you say with such certainty: “If you’re too careless with your love, I think you could hurt the very person you love,” Remus suddenly was terrified – terrified that you somehow knew what he was, a monster, and that you were warning him, maybe even accusing him of being around you. He had gone silent for several minutes before he heard you say, “Remus? Hello?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry,” Remus muttered.

Your brow was furrowed, and you slowly licked your lower lip in thought as you studied Remus. Why did he suddenly become so tense? Is it because I mentioned Dorcas, albeit indirectly?

“Remus, I’m not trying to assume anything about your relationship with her,” you said earnestly, desperately trying to clear up the air between you two. “I was just saying that if you’d promised her something.”

At this, Remus frowned, too. “What? My relationship with who?”

Oh, am I not supposed to know? you wondered.

You quickly backtracked. “No one. But I know there was that girl you wanted to ask to the Yule Ball, and I was saying that if it bothered you that I… I sometimes touch your hand or your hair, that – um - ” You were mortified at this point. “- I could stop all of that.”

Remus’ brow was no longer furrowed, but his mouth had fallen open.

You were looking determinedly off to the side, and your hands were behind your back, as you clutched your own hands together nervously.

You waited for Remus to say something, anything, but he was stubbornly staying quiet.

Finally, you burst out loudly, “I just like being around you!”

You both stared at each other, astonished at what had come out of your mouth.

But that was when Remus realized that there was no way that you knew that he was a werewolf, because if you did, you certainly wouldn’t be saying anything like that, right? So, Remus managed to unstick his tongue to the roof of his suddenly very dry mouth, and he merely said, “Well, that’s fine. Because we won’t hurt each other, right…?” Remus winced when he heard himself say that, for he had subconsciously spoken aloud that question so that it lingered in the air with an ominous “…”

But there you were, nodding so easily and so beautifully as you agreed, “Of course we won’t hurt each other, Remus. We’re friends, and we always will be.”

“Friends…” Remus repeated, again adding a “…” to the end of that word. Friends. He should be happy. He should be feeling the same that he felt when he first heard you call him by his first name. But in fact, he wasn’t quite satisfied with how lightly that word rolled off the tough. He wanted something heavier to speak out like “partners” or “lovers.”

You had paused. Remus could have sworn he noticed your little throat swallow, too, before you said softly, “If you want to be, I mean.”

“If I want?”

“Yeah, if you want me.” Hearing yourself, you hastily added, “As a friend.”

“Yes…”

Remus said yes, but why did he say it so uncertainly? Is it because he doesn’t want to be my friend, or is it because…? Your heart thumped soundly in your chest. Should I ask…? No, it’s too frightening. But still, I want him to know that…

You whispered aloud, in a voice most unlike your own, “Remus.”

“Yes?”

The chocolate bar you’d put in Remus’ pocket was starting to fall out. You reached out and softly poked it back in. Then, running your finger lightly along the gold foiling of the wrapper, going up and down in little strokes, as you murmured softly, “Remus, we can be… we can be anything you want to be.”

Remus’ gaze traced up your finger, running along the chocolate bar in his pocket, up your arm clothed in your favorite jumper, up your shoulder, up your neck, to your face, and when Remus caught your expression, he noticed how sad and anxious you looked. For some reason, it seemed to have cost you a lot to say that, and Remus wasn’t sure why, but it just about broke his heart. He wondered if somehow you had sensed his disappointment and you were trying to make up for it by forcing yourself to offer yourself to him. Because there was no way you actually felt anything for him, right, beyond friends, as it were…?

Not wanting to burden you in any way, Remus forced himself to say, “Yeah, uh, friends. Friends who don’t hurt each other.”

You looked up at him for a moment, but your eyes flashed away so quickly that Remus couldn’t see if your expression had changed, whether it had lightened or darkened. You only repeated his words, mumbling, “Friends. Who don’t hurt each… other… Yeah, okay…”

Why does she sound so sad? Remus wondered, caught entirely off-guard by you. I don’t want to cause her any pain. That’s why I said what I thought she wanted to hear. But why does she look and sound all melancholy?

In that moment, Remus felt a crazy, desperate urge to kiss you. He made a sudden motion, causing you to reactively grip the front of his cardigan while abruptly looking up at him. Remus blushed, halting his hands, which were reaching for you. Instead, he awkwardly snatched his cardigan out of your hand, murmured hastily, “Well, then,” and nearly slammed shut the dormitory door in your face.

As soon as the door had shut, Remus regretted everything. Oh Merlin, how could I have shut the door like that? I nearly smacked her in the face with the door. How could I have - ? Oh, bollocks, what have I done? Shit, how do I save this? Think, Remus John Lupin, think!

On the other side of the door, you found yourself blinking in surprise, still just as confused as you had been before this conversation. Slowly, you began to turn away, feeling depressed at how royally you had screwed this all up, when a small scrap of paper came sliding out of Remus’ dormitory door. You paused as the slip of paper hit your sneaker. You reached down and picked it up. It said, in Remus’ endearingly unruly writing: “Thanks for the chocolate.”

You carried the scrap of paper all the way up to your hiding spot. You lifted up your oldest map on the Nine-Tailed Fox, and you carefully pinned Remus’ note underneath the map. Then, you put the map back over it and used your hands to smooth the map back out. When you felt the soft, torn edges of Remus’ note under the map and under your sliding palms, you wondered what on earth had just happened between you and Remus.

Ironically, Remus was thinking the exact same thing up in his dorm room, as he set the chocolate bar you’d given him on top of his homework and gazed at it. In a way, it was funny - absurd, even - how neither of you had any clue what the conversation you’d just had actually meant. Just then, Remus tiredly flopped over onto his desk, burying his head into his arms. But a moment later, he turned his head and peeked open one eye. Then, he slowly reached out with one finger and he began to run his fingertip lightly along the gold foiling on the wrapper…

Tagged Users: @areomalfoy

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #marauders era #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #foxtail and wolfsbane

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adam-banks2024 · 3 years

Text

Bliss

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Adam steals you during a long study session to go play some hockey like the good old days.

The scent of parchment paper filled the Great Hall, along with that of fresh ink. You could see it shine on the paper if you were seated directly in front of a tall window. The most light comes through during sunrise and sunset, but at the time I’m studying, I wasn’t there during those hours.

It was almost noon on a Saturday, but here I am, studying. These tables were a place I usually enjoyed, mostly because of the large quantities of food, but it soon had become the place that gave me migraines and a strong urge to doze off every now and then.

Ever since I started my sixth year, the advanced potions class had turned into a monstrosity that I wasn’t sure I could handle. At first, it started with a few trips to the hall every month. Then it turned into weeks...and now I’m studying during most of my free time.

I can’t understand why I’m struggling with this class in particular. In all of my other classes, I’m performing above average. Apparently, I just can’t get the hang of “the art that is potion-making.” God, if I hear one more uninspiring word from Snape I might jump from the Ravenclaw tower.

At this point I had been studying for at least four hours now, and I hadn’t even eaten anything that would resemble breakfast. Unless two stale crackers count. The best part about the whole situation is that I had only managed to memorize the ingredients of one potion in my whole time studying. One. So, still, I must persist. Because I do not want to spend a study hall with Snape. I let my grade fall once and suddenly I found out how awkward and unsettling an hour with the professor was. It’s not like he would even help me. He just told me to read from the book and stared at me the whole time. As much as I hate to admit it, having no time to relax was better than spending any extra time with Snape than I had to

As I reached across the table for more ink, a separate hand was already there.

“Hey.”

A long, dark robe hung from his shoulders, and a green and grey scarf was loosely wrapped around his neck. His cheeks and nose had a blush, while the rest of his face appeared icy. He carried a bag with him that had unorganized papers going every which way.

“Oh hey, Adam. How’ve you been?”

Adam passed the vial to me and I dipped my quill. He put his belongings on the table and sat on the bench.

“Pretty good. You?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the mess.

“Eh. I’ve been better.” My voice was laced with tiredness and a pang of hunger. Nothing that would have been noticed, though.

He paused for a moment and then spoke again. “What’s wrong, Snape got you down because he couldn’t meet for a study session?”

I snorted. Me missing Snape? Yeah, sure, in his dreams. It took me a few seconds to compose myself before I responded. “No. Quite the opposite actually.” Adam hummed in response and gave a small laugh.

Once the noise subsided there was an awkward pause. I was waiting for him to respond, and I honestly didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t had a decent conversation with the kid since the beginning of fifth year. Now we’re almost done with our sixth. I decided that maybe if I returned to my studies, he’d take that as an opportunity to drop the conversation.

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to open my book before he cleared his throat. “Gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” He leaned his arm against the table and rested his head in his palm, fingers twiddling with the feather of my quill.

I sighed, slouching in the process. “Yeah. Social interaction has been foreign to me.”

Adam moved his other arm to the table, resting his head in both hands now. “Well I’m glad that you were just studying and not being torn apart by the whomping willow.”

“Haha, yeah. I think I would prefer the willow.” We both laughed, knowing that potions class was hell. Well, I assumed that he thought it was hell.

“Ahh, don’t say that.” It looked as though he was trying to think of what words to say. Mouth opening and closing, eyes darting everywhere. He must have pieced together what he wanted to say. “You should join me and the guys for some skating.” I shrugged my shoulders, not answering. I knew that if I entertained the idea at all then I wouldn’t be productive the rest of the day, so I decided to read over my notes to get my mind off the subject. Still, Adam persisted. “Maybe take away some of your stress?” I paused. A break sounded really nice, but could I really afford one right now, or even have enough energy?

“I don’t know, Adam. I have an exam on Tuesday.”

Adam stood up and walked around the table with a childlike bounce in his step. “C’mon, y/n, it’ll be fun. Just like old times.” Now he was sitting right beside me, his lip now forming a pout.

“Well...I guess skating for an hour or two couldn’t hurt. What time were you thinking?” He pulled me up. “Right now!”

All of my belongings were still in the hall, but I don’t think Adam had any regard for that. He seemed extremely excited that I had agreed to go skating with him. Well, and other people. Obviously. It’s not like it was just an invitation with him. They probably just needed an extra player so the teams were even. Whatever the case, I was glad to leave my studies for a few hours.

We earned glares from the portraits as we ran through the west wing haphazardly, bumping each other as we went. Giggling filled the air and it was just like it was a year ago. There was no awkwardness, no distance. It was like we had stayed in touch the whole time we were apart. I’ll have to make a mental note to not let that distance between Adam and I grow again.

“So, this is where I leave you.” I smiled at him as I turned to enter the Hufflepuff common room. “Well, for a moment. I don’t really want to get yelled at for being in another house.” Adam shifted his feet.

“Oh. lighten up, cake eater.” He didn’t say anything, just stared at me. “Okay fine. If you’re that much of a stickler to the rules, you can stay out here.” He gave a sheepish grin.

As I walked up the stairs to my dorm, I wondered how that kid was even in Slytherin. He follows the rules, he’s super kind, and he brightens the room. Then again, you find tons of kids who break their house’s stereotypes.

I ended the thought as I reached to grab a coat, scarf, and my skates. It had been at least half a year since I used them, so there was no doubt that I would be a little rusty when I got back on the ice. Once I was all bundled up, I made my way back to the hall where I found an Adam Banks standing in the same position that I had left him.

He gave a small smirk as I exited. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He hooked his arm through my arm and started to tow me to the frozen lake that was above the Slytherin common room. A blush drew to my cheeks, but I wrote it off as the scarf I adorned. Thankfully he didn’t notice. He was so focused on getting to the makeshift rink that I don’t think anything could have phased him. Not even Dumbledore in a bright, pink dress.

The trek was long, but there wasn’t a lot of snow, so that made the trip more enjoyable. As we neared the lake, I could see the other guys in the distance. I could only make out Connie and Guy because they were holding hands, but there were four other people that I couldn’t see out on the rink.

“Who’s all gonna be there today?” I looked up at Adam. The blush on his nose was even darker now because of the cold.

“Umm, Charlie. He had the idea in the first place. Averman wanted to come too. I think Connie and Guy. And then we asked Julie and Goldberg so we had goalies.” He smiled as he spoke, his love for hockey apparent.

Adam and I had played together when we were first years, but we hadn’t really known each other then. That’s where I first learned how to even skate. While I was still getting the bearings, Adam was already an extremely skilled player. When we were closer he used to tease me about it all the time, but he eventually stopped, and then just stopped talking to me all together. Maybe that’s why I’m so excited to go skating with him. After all, there’s no better feeling than reconnecting with an old friend.

The lake was pretty bare aside from two makeshift goals on the ice, and a few benches on either side. There weren’t any blue or red lines that we would have for actual games. Just plain ice.

“And you’re sure the lake is frozen enough?” Images of me falling through into the chilly water invaded my mind.

Adam shrugged his bag from his shoulder, “I’m a hundred percent sure. And if I’m not, I personally allow you to punch me.”

I rolled my eyes as I started to sit on one of the benches, putting a skate on. “Wow. how convincing.” He didn’t respond, so I just laced up my skates. Looking at the other people skating around, I wasn’t so sure how good I was gonna be. It had been at least three years since I’d really played a game of hockey, and you could clearly tell that these people practiced consistently.

I stood up once I laced my other skate, and started to make my way to the ice. Much to my surprise, my balance wasn’t awful. I could successfully skate and stop without much effort. There were still times where I would wobble or need to regain my balance, but I should be able to hold my own.

Adam brought me a stick and nudged my shoulder. I almost tripped, but I caught myself before anything else could happen.

“You’re real funny, Banks.” I spoke through gritted teeth, still struggling to stay afoot. He offered both of his hands out to help me gain my bearings again. To my surprise, he started skating backwards, pulling me forward. I laughed, “where are we going?”

I could see Adam’s breath as he laughed with me. “To play, silly goose.” An amused expression was painted on his face while speaking, and he gave a big smile after. I started to skate with him instead of just letting him drag me along. After a moment, he just stopped. Because physics exists, I kept sliding and bumped into him. I almost fell but Adam grabbed me by the elbows before I could drop to the ice.

When he pulled me up, our faces were only an inch or two apart. The world around me seemed to fade until it was just Adam. Neither of us had said a word, we just stood there. Staring at each other. It was in that moment when I realized the blades of my skates were slipping on the ice. I didn’t really know why, because the lake was definitely frozen over, like Adam had said. It might have been because my knees had locked

Then I noticed the slight tug on my arms. I realised I was being pulled, not slipping. I was being moved at such a tiny rate that it was almost unnoticeable. Almost. As I neared Adam’s chest, I simply stopped breathing. My heartbeat sped, and I slowly started to lose my hearing. This feeling that I was only now feeling, had it been there the whole day? At the table, running through the hall, walking to the lake. Was it there the whole time? I was just to blind to have seen it. All of the time Adam and I had spent before we lost touch, was the feeling there too?

Once there was no more room between him and I, Adam started to part his lips. My stomach was instantly in knots, and my mind preparing myself for the moments that were to come. Nothing else was said, and Adam closed his eyes. With no hesitation, he closed the gap between us, and pressed his lips against mine.

There were no fireworks. No sparks, no pits in my stomach. Just pure bliss, as I kissed the boy that I met in fifth year.

#mighty ducks #the mighty ducks #adam banks #adam banks x reader #mighty ducks imagine #the mighty ducks imagine #adam banks imagine

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theeslytherinslut · 3 years

Text

12 Grimmauld Place (8/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post-Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,130

Warnings: gross imagery

A/N: Next chapter will have the trio! Don’t worry the smut is inbound, I love me a slow burn lol. I have a feeling this will be a fairly long story, possibly pushing 20 chapters cause I’m only just coming up on the storyline I had in mind lmao

As Snape pushed open the hospital wing doors, the girlish voice you'd heard earlier returned, and this time you were stunned to find it was arguing with Dumbledore. Surely no student in their right mind would argue with Dumbledore.

“I’m afraid that whatever is behind that door doesn’t concern you, Madam Undersecretary,” Dumbledore said serenely. Glancing warily at Sirius, you found him giving you the same look. So it wasn’t a student. You recognized the title as well, possibly from filling out paperwork for work. Work...the Ministry...Sirius Black sitting right next to you, a very much wanted Sirius Black.

“Sirius, it might be best you transform now." Madame Pomfrey said before you could. Sirius shot her a shocked look, and she shook her head. "Oh, don't look so shocked. Of course I know--and I'm not the only one, you know. Now, go on. I don’t believe that woman is going to be sated by Dumbledore.”

And sure enough, a second later, the woman pushed open the doors, and Sirius’ hand slipped from yours. Looking over, in Sirius’ spot sat a large black dog, panting slightly. Bewildered, you stared at Sirius’ new form as a small, toad-looking old woman pulled back your separating curtains.

“What is this?” she hissed, looking to Madame Pomfrey. She was dressed entirely in an alarming shade of pink, which made her resemble a bubblegum ball. Feeling slightly nauseated, you tore your eyes away from her vivid color, but not before noticing her face was also pink in agitation.

“This is a patient,” Madame Pomfrey responded icily, barely looking up from your leg. Thankfully, it seemed she’d ceased her draining until Sirius was able to support you once more.

“She isn’t a student, what’s she doing here?” the woman asked, barely looking at you.

“She used to be,” you retorted, stung by the lack of empathy. She seemed not to hear you, but instead stared expectantly at Madame Pomfrey.

“I shall treat any who seek medical attention, regardless of their status within the school.” Madame Pomfrey said, drawing herself up to her full height.

“I don’t believe that’s your decision to make, dear.” the woman said in a sickly sweet voice. Your temper flared.

“As Headmaster, I bestow upon Madame Pomfrey the ability to treat whoever she sees fit. So, unless you plan to bodily remove Mrs. Y/L/N, I don’t see why this conversation can’t be continued in a more conducive setting. I do believe we’re keeping Y/N’s wounds from being drained.” Dumbledore said, gesturing down to your leg. “Decaying drought,”

The woman let out a ghastly noise as she looked down, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, that’s nice. Really love being gasped at, as if being mauled weren’t enough.” you quipped, unable to hold your tongue. Sirius growled at the woman, and her eyes fell to him.

“There! Now that can’t be sanitary, can it? It’ll have to go,” the woman said, reaching out to pull Sirius from the room. It seemed she was determined to assert some sort of authority over the situation. Sirius growled more loudly and now raised himself to stand on all four legs; whatever dog breed he’d chosen was massive, and he stood almost as tall as she did. Looking at him, he looked truly terrifying. His long fangs glinted in the light pouring in from the massive windows and his hackles were raised as he viciously growled at the squat woman before you. He looked more wolfish than like a dog.

“I’d advise against that, Madame Undersecretary. I do believe he holds a certain affinity for Y/N. Dragging him from her bedside might not get you the results you so wish to receive.” Dumbledore smiled fondly down at Sirius, who still stood barring his long fangs at the woman.

“Well,” she gasped, pulling her short, stubby hand from Sirius’ reach. “Cornelius shall be hearing all about this, Dumbledore. I must say it is most unusual for a prior student to be treated by staff during the school year, nevertheless joined by her mangy mutt.”

“I should expect nothing less,” Dumbledore said, serene as ever, “Now, shall we? Unless you wish to see the effects of an expertly made decaying drought on the human body?

She made a face and peered back down at your angry leg, and you were sure to meet her gaze with an icy glare. She cast a look around at the group of you, and you suddenly remembered Remus’ unconscious body in the next compartment. Hoping she wouldn't look around, you held her eyes with a glare. Thankfully, she seemed unable to find anything worth staying for and allowed Dumbledore to sweep her from the room.

Madame Pomfrey let out a string of words that made you proud, and you smiled at a now human Sirius, his hand slipping back in yours.

“That was Dolores Umbridge. Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and by all accounts, simply the very worst of humanity.” Sirius explained, absentmindedly running his thumb along the outside of your hand. Madame Pomfrey still bustled about agitatedly, but you knew she’d soon return to you.

“What’s she doing here? Surely Dumbledore would never hire such a horrible woman?” you asked. It’d been a while since you’d been at Hogwarts, but that you knew.

“Of course not. She was placed here by the Minister. Fudge is becoming intensely paranoid--and about all the wrong things. As I’m sure you’re very much well aware of, he refuses to acknowledge,” and casting a look at Madame Pomfrey, he cut himself off, “You-Know-Who’s return. Instead of dealing with the real enemy--the only true enemy of the whole of the wizarding world--he instead has set his sites on Dumbledore. As I’m sure you’ve read, he’s already got the Daily Prophet to work on subduing and poisoning the public against him and his claims. They’ve even begun to go after Harry now, too. Cowards. Complete and utter sodding tossers, the whole lot of them--”

“Sirius, there are students in here,” Madame Pomfrey hissed, swatting him lightly with an empty medicine bottle.

“Sorry, Poppy. Anyway, Fudge -is so deluded he thinks Dumbledore is using Hogwarts to train up young wizards for a fresh, formidable, wizard army.” Sirius said

“He’s what?!” you laughed, sure he must be exaggerating.

“He’s gone completely round the twist. Thinks Dumbledore’s training up all these children to get them to storm and take over the Ministry. Utterly fuck--sorry, completely nutters. So, he’s placed Umbridge at Hogwarts, fulfilling both the vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts and a fiercely loyal mole. Word is he’s working on drawing up the plans to take over the school completely. This just being the first of many steps.” Sirius explained. Madame Pomfrey leaned in and gasped at his story.

“Take over the school? That wretched woman?” she said, holding her hand to her mouth in horror. Sirius nodded grimly, and a look of intensity came over Madame Pomfrey’s features.

“Well, I don’t cave so easily,” she said, sniffing haughtily at the thought of being under Umbridge’s thumb.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor,” Sirius smiled up at her.

“Gryffindor?” you said, shocked. I mean, it made sense for Madame Pomfrey to attend Hogwarts in her youth, but you’d never really thought about it--much less what house she’d belong in.

“Yes, Gryffindor, but I never let that cloud my judgment, Slytherin,” she sneered playfully at you. You and Sirius let out a laugh, yours dying much quicker as she came back towards you.

“Alright, dear, last one. It looks like his pinky claw didn’t quite reach you,” she said, grimacing as she spoke.

Wrapping my fingers around the bed frame and Sirius’ hand, you nodded.

And like always, it was hell. Screaming, you tried to quiet yourself, but it was to no avail. Your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as she worked her way down your leg, pushing out the rotting flesh

“Y/N?!” a voice yelled groggily. Cursing, Sirius slipped from your grasp and disappeared from view. Despite Sirius’ absence, Madame Pomfrey continued.

“Almost done, ‘few more seconds, dear,” she said.

Casting a look down, your head spun at the image below you. Your limb looked more zombie-like than human. It was a horrible mixture of deep burgundy, black as the infection ran down your leg, and purple from your enlarged veins highlighting here and there.

“Remus! Contain yourself!” Sirius scolded. You knew you should shut your mouth to calm him, but it didn’t seem possible with the imagery added to the sensation. Finally, she stopped, and you fell back against the pillows once more, vision blacking round the edges as you fought to regain your breath.

Then, what sounded like a dull thud followed by a groan sounded, and Remus burst through the curtains. What he saw brought him to his knees.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s not as bad as it looks?” you said, trying to force out a laugh. It came out as a strangled cough, though, as your throat was raw from yelling.

“It’ll be alright, Remus. She’ll be fine by this time tomorrow, come on,” Madame Pomfrey fretted over Remus, and you could see her soft spot for your brother remained.

“But...” he trailed off. Words seemed to fail him, and he gestured weakly to your grotesque limb.

“Well, sit down, drink this,” she said, forcing a lavender-colored liquid into his slightly shaking hands. “Calm down, and we’ll explain. If you go roaring off again, I’ll have to knock you out with something much stronger than the last,” she threatened, lowering her eyes at Remus. With a sudden fondness, you remembered her disdain for chaos in her wing.

“Oh, Sirius,” she sighed. He’d just come in clutching a bloody nose, but seemed amused rather than angry.

“Remus!” you said, shocked at your brother.

“It’s quite alright, love. If someone were trying to keep me from you while you were screaming like that, I’d do the same.” Sirius smiled at you. A tingly feeling brewed in your chest at his words. “Excellent right hook, Moony,” he complimented, bowing slightly at his friend.

Tonks followed in soon after, rolling her eyes at the two of them. You met her eyes, and the both of you mouthed ‘men’ at each other whilst shaking your head.

As Remus laughed weakly at Sirius and downed the rest of the liquid, a small boy in scarlet and gold came to collect Tonks. With a wave and a glance back at Remus, she was gone. The effects of the potion were instantaneous; his hands ceased their shaking, he sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

“Now, then,” Madame Pomfrey sighed, “Her leg. It seems our favorite furry little friend seemed discontent with the marring effects of his claws alone and dipped them in what we’ve found to be a decaying drought.”

Bracing yourself for his reaction, you were extremely shocked to find him reasonable still.

“You’ve got Severus making the antidote, then?” Remus asked logically.

“I’ll take a dozen of whatever that was for later,” you breathed at Madame Pomfrey. Remus was such a reasonable, logical person in every situation, except when it came to you. When it came to you, however, he was much more reminiscent of his wolfish counterpart.

Everyone laughed lightly at your comment, and you sat up slightly, most of the pain fading.

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now, dear. You rest. Though, I daresay at some point your friend here will have a trio of visitors,” she said, twinkling at Sirius.

Sirius smiled in realization, and you were happy he got to see his godson early--even if it did take you suffering from a poisonous werewolf attack.

“I’ll be staying, Poppy,” Remus said, pulling up a chair. You opened your mouth to reason with him, but he stopped you by lifting his hands, and you sighed--there was only so much the potion could do.

She cast wary glances at Sirius and Remus.

“You know, I don’t believe there was a single night in which the two of you were in here that didn’t end in various bangs, pop, and screams.” Suddenly, her demeanor was very intense and McGonagall-like. “The first will be tonight. Or you’ll both end up in an empty cot!”

“Poppy, we are adults, you know,” Remus reminded her, smiling lightly.

“Oh, like that ever stopped you lot,” Madame Pomfrey said, giving them each a stern stare as she left.

“We’ll be on our very best behavior, Poppy,” Sirius said solemnly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“You two will be the death of me,” she sighed, whisking away back to her desk, a concerned look on her face.

******************************

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