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poeticallyspiteful · 10 months

Note

Hi there.

Maybe a newt x f reader where reader its a healer ( doctor) . reader was a friend of theseus and they were working on a case from the Ministry of magic. Thank you so much ❤️

kiss it better

newt scamander x reader

fluff (making out)

cw: unedited, blood, a lil bit of ~suggestiveness~/(okay a lot a bit of suggestiveness i write like a romance novelist sometimes lol sorry not sorry), making out, newt is ripped and hot as hell

summary: newt gets injured and theseus knows the perfect person to kiss it better.

notes: thank you so much for the request love!!! i wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for with this one so i just used my imagination so i do hope you like it. feel free to request something more if you don’t though :))

16+ please!!

“theseus, this is ridiculous, let go of me.”

it was a small cut, just a little one. a small mishap with alone of his creatures, that was all. such a tiny little ailment.

“it is bleeding profusely and goes all the way across your stomach, newt!” theseus exclaimed, pulling his brothers coat sleeve like a child dragging their parents through a candy store. “she’s very nice, you know that.”

oh, newt knew you were nice— that was the problem. you were so nice, so pretty, so incredibly everything that newt could hardly bare it. years and years of friendship with you and he could hardly even contain his joy at the sound of your laugh, at the mere sight of you. it made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to exist when all he could focus on was you.

“you’re working a case, theseus,” newt sighed, allowing his brother to pull him up the stairs to your apartment. “she’s probably reviewing files or something, it would be rude to interrupt her work.”

but the scamander brothers were already outside your door, and theseus was already knocking. before newt could brace himself for the wave of love sickness that would inevitably hit him the second he saw you, the door swung open and there you were; nice, pretty, perfect.

“hi newt, theseus,” you greeted, chest heaving (you may have ran across the apartment the second you’d heard their voices coming down the hall) “what can i— oh merlin’s beard.”

newt looked down, unsurprised to see the blood had seeped through his white shirt. he gave you a lopsided smile and you rolled your eyes, a pitiful attempt to avoid eye contact with the boyish man before you.

“come inside.”

theseus all but shoved newt inside, already straightening out his suit and brushing the left over floo powder off of his shirt. he looked up to you and his brother, unphased by the confused look on your faces.

“well, i best be off.”

you gawked at him. “your— your not going to stay?” you asked. he shook his head. “theseus! your brother is injured and you’re leaving?”

“we have a case!”

“it’s really okay,” newt said, bashfully, suddenly reminding you of the reason they were there.

scoffing, you turned back to newt, waving your friend off. “workaholic,” you murdered as you began searching for your emergency bandage kit.

and with that, theseus shut the door— but not before sending his brother a mischievous wink. newt felt a shiver down his spine.

sneaky bastard.

you finally found the small red box, pulling it open and rifling through it for a disinfectant and some gaws, as well as a mini suture kit.

glancing up at newt through your eyelashes, you hummed expectantly. “shirt off,” you ordered, some foreign sort of confidence surging through you.

newt swore all the brain cells left his mind. “pardon?” he chocked, suddenly not too concerned with his injuries.

“i can’t exactly fix you through the shirt. now c’mon, we don’t have all day,” you explained.

quickly, newt obeyed, shedding his baggy coat and undoing the bloodied buttons. very quickly, he felt exposed, but the bashful look on your face made him feel more smug than anything.

you had never seen newt shirtless before now, but my lord, did you wish the sight to be engraved in your mind till the day you died. you could see the viens that traveled up his tanned arms, and as shocked to see his biceps had been rather toned under that jacket all this time. his freckles spanned all down his chest and arms as well, dancing around the thin scars across him.

for a man so cute and clever, he was sure an enthralling sight to see.

clearing your throat, you finally looked down at the wound intently, relieved to see it didn’t look like too hard of a fix. with some shallow sutures and cleaning, he’d be better in no time.

“not too bad,” you murmured without thinking, entire body going cold at the implication. shit. the clever smile on newts face grew. “i— i meant the cut isn’t too bad, doesn’t look, y’know, infected.”

“good,” newt agreed, leaning back on his arms. his abdomen tensed at the movement and he hissed at the pain. “ouch.”

before you could look at him too closely, or think too much apparently, you knealt down infront of him. however, as he opened his legs to allow you space between them, you realized the predicament you’d put yourself in.

holy fucking shit.

you looked up hesitantly, feeling your heart race at the way newt looked down at you; nervous and kind, like he was just as surprised by your position as you were.

“this might sting a little,” you announced, trying to redirect his (and yours) attention back to the real reason you were on your knees.

carefully, you wiped the cotton pad across the cut, cleaning up the blood around the wound. newt hissed again, hands gripping the blanket laid across your couch. you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the wound.

“almost done,” you reassured, finally looking up to see newts eyes screwed shut in pain. quickly, you dabbed at the far end of the wound, bringing your hands down quickly. “all done.”

newt sighed in relief, swallowing roughly. he glanced down to his stomach, feeling his head buzz as you looked back up at him. “whatcha thinking, doc?” he teased.

you could’ve died at the irony. you could not tell him what you were thinking right now.

“well, it’ll only need a few stitches at the edges there on the left, but it should be fine otherwise. just some bandages and you’ll be good,” you answered.

“no magic?” he asked.

“sadly, my regulations to do these sorts of healing charms only spans as far as britain,” you replied. “i’m working on getting the papers here in the states, but for now, just my handy work.”

newt smiled, another grin which made you weak in the knees. “your handy work is quite good.”

you ignored the heat in your face from the praise as you began you sutures. you felt newt shiver under your hands as they fluttered across his stomach, tracing the stitches and looking for any imperfections. finally satisfied with the stitching, you taped some bandages across them, and stood up once you were done. three easy steps, and nothing went wrong—

as you took a step back, you stumbled over the edge of your rug, fumbling backwards as you tried to regain your balance. before you realized what had happened, you felt newts hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you forward.

and forward was onto his lap.

you had spoken too soon.

you caught yourself with a tight grip on his bare shoulders, the skin soft and hot under your hands. your face was barely an inch from his, and your eyes met his in a brief moment of panic.

“s-sorry, i just didn’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table,” newt whispered, eyes darting form your eyes to your lips and back again nervously. he seemed very regretful of his action at first, but he didn’t budge to move you off of him, hands gripping the flesh around your hips.

“t-thank you,” you stammered, gathering all your strength not to squirm in his arms, your heart beating faster than your blood could pump.

newts eyes found yours again, thumbs making small circles in your hip bone. “have i ever told you that you’re very pretty?” the low rasp of his voice could’ve made you faint on any ordinary day, but given that you were practically straddling him, nothing could’ve made you more lightheaded. “especially up so close.”

“newt,” you whispered.

“what, love?”

“please kiss me.”

newt closed the gap without a second thought, kissing you gently. his lips were soft, but needy, pulling away and coming back for more over and over and over again. his hands traveled from your hips all the way up to your head, resting on your jaw. you moved your hands up his neck, playing with the curls on the nape.

you whined as he pulled away entirely, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. “why’d you stop?”

“isn’t there a rule about strenuous activities post surgery?” he teased, laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips briefly; he had waited too long to do this and he didn’t wanna stop now. “making out seems pretty strenuous to me.”

“i’ll kiss it better.”

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #fanfic #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander fluff #fluff #newt scamander imagine

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hjparisian · 9 days

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time doesn't wait for you- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x fem!reader w: angst, sad, cussing summary: a few years after the war, theodore is forced to step back onto the grounds of hogwarts, where he finds an old lover he misses. a/n: something about writing theo angst has me all :D but reading it is like D: anyways sorry for breaking your hearts

Theodore had no intentions to join in on this event. In fact, he wanted to avoid this whole thing entirely. He almost succeeded too if it wasn't for his best friend Blaise randomly apparating to his apartment earlier that day begging him to join.

"Come on Theo."

"No," he told him. "There's no point in going."

"There's always a point in going to a party."

"It's not even a party, more like some idiotic get together."

The 'party' in question was a reunion and a celebration of the ending of the war. All Hogwarts alumni were invited, no matter the age or the house you were in.

"It will be a party when we're there."

Classic Blaise, it was like the war never changed him.

Unlike it did to Theodore.

"Still. I'm not going."

Blaise rolled his eyes at the boy on the bed. "Come on man, Draco will be there with Astoria and her sister. Mattheo and Enzo are going too. It won't be a real reunion without you."

Theodore groans at his best friend's insistence. "You're not gonna give up are you?"

"Nope," Blaise says. "You're always locked in your apartment ever since your hearing at the ministry."

Ah yes. That. Because of Theodore's father allegiance with the Dark Lord, he was questioned for working along side him. They were not wrong though. His father made him to join the Death Eaters in his sixth year. Luckily for Theodore, they ruled it as him being forced to join by his father and was just given some community service.

"Not always," the boy grumbles.

Blaise snorted. "Yeah, sure." The boy walked to Theodore's closet and began rummaging through his wardrobe.

"What are you doing?" He asked him.

"I'm helping you get ready," Blaise told him. Theodore groaned.

"Come on Theo. Just go for a bit, you don't have to stay for the whole thing. What's stopping you?"

Theodore remained silent, his head in his hands. Despite his silence, Blaise was able to figure it out.

"You're scared to run into her, aren't you?"

Theodore sighed before nodding his head. "It's been forever since I last saw her, during the war," he mutters, looking at his best friend. "I never got to explain everything to her."

Blaise sat on the bed next to Theodore. "Mate, it'll be alright. I'm sure she understands why you left her."

But Blaise never witnessed the hurt in her eyes when Theodore broke things off at the beginning of sixth year, nor when he saw her during the battle at Hogwarts. Theodore just shook his head.

"I don't know."

"You might not even see her," Blaise said to him. "I heard there's quite a bit of people going. Plus we will be by your side. I know Enzo misses you."

Theodore sat and thought for a bit before answering. "Fine. Only because you probably would make me go either way."

Blaise had left Theodore to get ready at his own place, promising to meet up with him at Hogsmeade where they would travel to Hogwarts together.

The boy stood in front of the mirror in his room, gazing at his opposite. The person staring back at him was only a shell of what remained of him, the war and his father torturing him. Would she even want to look at him?

He shifted his gaze to the small clock on his nightstand, indicating it was almost time for him to leave. Theodore was half tempted to stay home and not go, but he couldn't, knowing Blaise would probably be on his ass if he didn't show.

Theodore half-willingly exited the comfort of his home to apparate to Hogsmeade to meet with his old friends. As soon as he arrived, the boy began wandering around in search of his old mates, until he found a head of white-blonde hair.

"Theo!"

A girl with dark shoulder length hair wrapped her arms around him in a hug, catching him off guard. The girl stepped back, taking a look at her friend.

"It's been forever! I was starting to get worried about you."

"It has been," Theodore states. "But I'm alright, no need to worry Pansy."

"We have every right to," said Enzo. "You barely reached out to us. Not since the trials. Even Mattheo over here has been reaching us and he had it worse." Mattheo nodded at Enzo's words.

"I've been busy."

"We're all together now, so does it matter?" Blaise points out. "We should start heading towards the school."

The group begun their trek towards the school. Everyone was all catching up with each other, updating how their lives have been. How Draco had begun dating Astoria not too long after the war, how Enzo and Mattheo had recently got an apartment together, Pansy's fling with some witch she met on vacation, and Blaise's many rendezvous.

Theodore remained silent, taking in all information, until Draco's voice cut through the air.

"So Theo, you haven't told us what you've been up to."

"Yeah, last I heard was you having to do some service for the Ministry after your trial," Mattheo said.

"I haven't been doing much," Theodore began. "Mainly reading. Picking up the odd job here and there."

"Didn't you want to be a healer?" Astoria inquired. "I remember Draco telling me that a while ago."

Theodore looked at Draco who looked away, looking a bit embarrassed. Theodore remembered confiding in the Malfoy boy about this one night during their teen years, but he knew he couldn't. Not with his father wanting him to join the Ministry like him.

Another person had known about this dream career. And she was the one person who encouraged him to pursue it. He still remembers what she said to him about it

"Who cares what your father says? That bastard doesn't know shit. You would be a wonderful healer. I know you've healed my heart," she teasingly says.

Theodore shivered at the memory.

"I did."

Before the group could ask anymore questions, the voices of others caught their attention. They had arrived at the castle.

Theodore let his eyes wandered as they walked towards the Great Hall. The last time he stepped on these grounds, they were in shambles. Sometimes he still sees it in his nightmares.

The Great Hall seemed brighter than the boy remembered. Perhaps it was the gold and silver decorations lining the walls. Instead of the four long tables, there multiple round tables around the room. It reminded Theodore of the Yule Ball.

He remembered how he felt the night of the Yule Ball. He built up the courage to ask out the one girl he had a crush on. Granted, Enzo kept annoying him about it, saying if he wasn't going to ask her out, then he would.

Needless to say, Theodore asked her out the next day.

He was nervous. The moment he saw her in her gown, he felt time stop. He was a lucky man that day.

"You know Theo, I was waiting for you to ask me," she tells him while they danced.

He smiles shyly. "Sorry. Just needed a little push I guess."

"It's alright," she tells him. "I would always wait for you."

Theodore shook the memory from his head, trying to tune in to what his friends were talking about. A nudge from the person next to him caught his attention.

Enzo leaned towards Theodore. "Hey isn't that (Y/N) over there?" He looked over to where his friend was pointing to see his former lover, talking to the Patil twins.

She looked gorgeous in Theodore's eyes. The way her hair was styled. The way her dress sat on her shoulders. The way it framed her body. The way her eyes still sparkle like they did back in their schools years. It felt like the Yule Ball all over again.

Oh god, shit feels deja vu.

Theodore continued to watch as she interacted with their old classmates. Seeing her laugh at something Hermione Granger said made something flutter in his stomach.

He didn't even realize how long he was staring until a pair of fingers were snapping right in front of him.

"Hey, Theo!"

Blaise stood right by him, for how long or when he got there, Theodore didn't know. He turned to his mate and looked at him.

"Been trying to get your attention for a bit," Blaise told him. "What were you looking at?"

"Nothing," he quickly said.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, not believing a word he said. He looked in the direction of where Theodore was gazing a few moments ago. He paused when his eyes set on something and they widened, realizing who his friend was staring at.

Blaise smirked a bit. "Ooohh, I see. You were looking at her."

"What? No I wasn't," Theodore denied. It was blatantly obvious that he was.

"Just go talk to her."

"No."

"What's going on?" Mattheo asks.

"Nothing. Nothing is going on."

"He's been staring at his ex this whole time," Enzo tells him.

"(Y/N)?" questions Draco.

The whole Slytherin gang was staring at Theodore, curious about what's going on.

Merlin put me in Azkaban, Theodore thought.

"What happened between you two?" Astoria questioned. Merlin shut up.

As Mattheo was about to answer, Theodore cut him off. "Just didn't work out." But oh how he wish they did. Astoria nodded her head, deciding not to probe any further.

The topic came to an end thankfully as Enzo and Mattheo went to grab drinks and Draco and Astoria started chatting with Daphne. Theodore stood by Pansy and Blaise as the two were talking about who knows what.

He let his gaze wander again to her. (Y/N) was with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, talking with some of the former Gryffindor quidditch players.

"Do you miss her?"

Theodore looked towards Pansy, staying silent. The boy let out a sigh before answering. "I do."

"Why don't you just talk to her?" She asks him.

"I can't."

"Well, why not?"

"He's scared," Blaise says. "The last time they've talked to each other was after the break up. Then she found out he was a Death Eater during the war."

"You broke things off because of that, didn't you?" Pansy inquired. Theodore nodded his head.

"I didn't want her to get involved in that bullshit."

"You need to talk to her Theo," the dark haired girl told him. "She probably heard about your trial, (Y/N) has to understand what happened."

"Pansy's right," said Blaise. "The war is over, people are healing and moving on. I'm sure she will understand."

But Theodore hasn't.

"No."

"Mate, come on. We both know you miss her."

"Yeah. I'm sure she misses you too. You just have to try-"

"I said I'm not gonna do it." He was started to feel frustrated.

Pansy starts to reach out toward the boy. "Theo-"

"I'm getting a drink." Theodore walks away from his mates, who watched him leave with concern.

The boy walks towards the refreshment table, grabbing a glass of elf made wine. He began downing the glass, until a sweet familiar voice caught him off guard.

"Theo?"

The boy turned around to see the one person he's been thinking about this whole night. Of course the first thing to happen as soon as he saw her was for him to begin choking on the wine he was drinking.

"Theo!" The girl exclaimed as she rushed to help him. The girl conjured up a cup of water for him to drink as he stopped coughing.

"Merlin are you alright?" (Y/N) asked him.

"Yeah, was just surprised that's all."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's alright. Not your fault," He tells her.

The two stood in silence until (Y/N) broke it.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Theodore nods. "It has. A couple years actually."

"How have you been?" She asks him.

"Been alright," Theodore says to her. "Hasn't been a smooth couple of years but I've managed. How are you?"

"I've been well. Been working at the ministry. It's a lot but has helped put my mind off other things." (Y/N) said. "Have you gotten a job at St. Mungo's yet?"

"Huh? What for?"

"You know," (Y/N) began. "As a healer?"

If Theodore had to be honest, he wasn't expecting her to remember. Hell, he would've thought she would forget all about him. "No."

"Really?" She looked at him in confusion.

He nodded his head. "Just a lot going on since the war. Also I don't think anyone would want a former death eater treating them."

He noticed her breath hitch at the mention of him being a death eater, but decided not to say anything about it.

"Well, I think you shouldn't let that stop you," she tells him. "It wasn't deemed as your fault anyways, your bastard father made you."

"You know about my trial?" The boy was a little shocked.

She smiled sheepishly. "I read up on it a bit. Yours and Mattheo's trials were mentioned in the Daily Prophet."

Theodore felt his face go cold as a small oh left his mouth. He should've expected it, considering he's the son of one of the most well known Death Eaters in the country.

"So I guess you understand why things ended the way they did between us," Theodore tells her. "I didn't want anything to happen to you because we were together."

"I mean, I didn't really understand at the time," she tells him. "The trial gave some clarity, but I kind of understand it now."

He nodded. "I hope you know I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Theo," she says, giving him a small smile. "I'm glad you're okay now." Was he really though? He wouldn't say.

He felt his heart quicken at the thought that she was glad he survived the war. She still cares about him, at least that's what he was telling himself.

Maybe, just maybe, if she still cares about him, she may have missed him. Pansy could be right. And maybe, he could get her back. Just maybe.

Theodore decided to take chance, taking Pansy's words to heart. "Hey (Y/N)." She hummed in response.

"I just want to say, that I really missed you." He felt his heart running miles. "And I truly am sorry for what happened between us."

"It's alright, Theo. It's in the past," (Y/N) said, smiling at him.

"But I was wondering," Theodore pauses. "If you would be willing to give it- us, a second chance."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, not expecting this. Sadness seemed to cloud her features soon after.

"Oh, Theo," she started. "I'm sorry but, no, we can't."

Theodore felt his heart crack. This was not what he was hoping for. "Why not?"

(Y/N) looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "I'm engaged Theodore."

It was at that moment when Theodore noticed the diamond ring sitting on her left hand. How did he not notice it?

"With who?"

"With Harry."

Theodore couldn't believe it. He didn't want to.

"We started talking more after the war," she tells him. "With us both at the ministry, some things just led to another."

The boy felt like choking. Like something was in his throat, but he manages to get out one word. "Why?"

"Theodore what did you expect me to do?" She burst out, tears glistening in her eyes. "We were broken up. I couldn't just sit around begging for you to come back. I had to move on! Time doesn't wait for you."

All he could do was stand in silence as (Y/N) attempted to stop the tears from flowing. The pain in her eyes brought back the memories of when he broke things off. Oh how he wish he didn't do it. How he wish they could've just stayed together.

"I'm- I'm sorry," was all he could mutter out.

(Y/N) just shook her head. "I think I should go back to Harry. But it was nice seeing you. Think about the healer job."

She patted his shoulder as she left. Theodore watched with blurry eyes as she walked towards The Boy Who Lived, who wrapped an arm around her waist. Oh how he hated that git and how he wished he was him right now.

It was at that moment Blaise and Pansy appeared at his side. Pansy's voice catching his attention.

"Hey Theo, you alright?"

He shook his head. "I- I lost her."

The love of his life had become the biggest loss of his life. How he wished time would travel back to when they were happy little fourth years.

But unfortunately for him, time doesn't wait for anyone.

#harry potter #theodore nott x reader #harry potter x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott angst

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lixzey · 7 months

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to the moon and back

Once upon a time, there was a wizarding family that was powerful and mighty. Nicholas Selwyn was the last of their family, and he and his wife Calliope had yet to have a child—an heir to continue the Selwyn name.

Then a miracle happened: Calliope had finally borne a child. A child born of the Selwyn and Rosier bloodline, the heir for whom they have waited so long. On the summer solstice of 1962, a daughter was born. And she was given the name Y/N, a fitting name for a princess. Families from the Sacred Twenty-Eight came from all around to offer gifts and praise for the little girl.

Among those families were the Blacks. Walburga and Orion Black had two sons. An almost two-year-old Sirius clung to his father's leg, hiding from everyone else. While the almost-one-year-old Regulus was sitting comfortably in his mother's arms.

“Oh, Calliope, you are glowing!” Walburga Black praised the new mother, balancing her son on her hip. Walburga peered over the little girl that was bundled in a pink swaddle in Calliope's arms. “She's a darling!”

“Yes, she is.” Calliope agreed with a wide grin. “The sweetest angel I've ever seen.”

Calliope looked up at the tiny hand that was a few inches away from her daughter's face. Six-month-old Regulus had his tiny hand over the newborn's face, seemingly admiring her.

“It looks like Regulus likes Y/N.” Walburga laughed, beaming at her son. Suddenly, Regulus' smacked Y/N square in the face.

“Regulus Arcturus Black, you do not hit women!” Walburga scolded the boy in her arms, who had no idea what was happening. Meanwhile, the little baby in Calliope's arms was screaming her head off, her face red as her cries echoed in the banquet hall.

Calliope soothed her daughter, an amused smile on her lips as she glanced at the little boy who had just hit her child.

"Oh, hush, Walburga. The boy doesn't know any better; he's just a boy.” Calliope chuckled. “I think he just really likes my daughter.”

“Regulus has great taste, then.”

“Maybe one day they'll fall in love.” Calliope mused, a twinkle in her eye as she looked at the little boy who had his eyes locked on her sleeping daughter. Walburga laughed, shaking her head. “We'll see.”

June 21st, 1968

Selwyn Manor was filled with colourful decorations, bright pink and lavender ribbons, and balloons lining the parlour and hallway. There were beautiful floral arrangements in tall vases, and even pink and purple flowers have been planted in the garden outside.

It was Y/N's sixth birthday, and she was beyond excited. Her mother and father opted not to throw another lavish party, but the house elves insisted on decorating the manor according to their young mistress' desires. Calliope and Nicholas proposed that instead of a party, they would take her on a summer trip to France as a gift for their daughter's birthday.

“Mummy, how do I look?” Y/N asked, twirling around as she modelled the dress in front of her mother. She was wearing a frilly lavender-coloured dress made by Miffy—their house elf—that doted on Y/N far too much.

Calliope beamed proudly at her daughter. “You look enchanting, mon ange.”

The little girl furrowed her eyebrows. “Mon ange? What does that mean, mummy?”

Her mother chuckled. “It means 'my angel' in French, my love. This summer, I'll be teaching you French, alright?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, nearly jumping with excitement at the mention of learning another language. “When are we going? When, when?”

“We'll just wait for your father to finish up at the ministry, my love. After that, we'll go ahead.”

“Okay, okay. Can I go to the garden now, Mummy? I want to play with Miffy.”

Calliope laughed. “Alright, alright. Just don't get messy, okay?”

Y/N nodded before darting out of the room, the little house elf hot on her heels. Calliope shook her head at her daughter amusedly. Her little girl is going to get along quite nicely with the youngest Black son.

“Both of you shall be on your best behaviour for the whole summer in France; do you understand me?” Walburga reminded her sons, her gaze narrowing at her eldest. “Do you understand me?”

Sirius tried his best not to roll his eyes at his mother, but he failed miserably. “You've told us that at least ten times this week, Mother.”

Walburga glared at her eldest, letting out an annoyed sigh before turning to her youngest with a smile. “Do you understand, Regulus?”

The boy nodded, not wanting to get on his mother's bad side, like Sirius always did.

Walburga beamed at her youngest son, patting him on the cheek. “We are to leave eave at six in the evening, after your father gets done with business. You two better be ready to leave before five.” She turned to her eldest, snarling at him before turning and walking away from the young boys.

“Reggie, wanna go play in the garden?” Sirius asked as soon as their mother was out of earshot, a mischievous grin on his face. Sirius was often the troublemaker between the two, always rebelling against their mother's rules. Sirius despised their parents' belief in blood supremacy. It was a load of dung, according to Sirius, who loved watching muggle children play out in the streets in Grimmauld Place.

“But mother said to behave, Sirius.” Regulus hissed at his brother. Regulus hated it when Sirius got in trouble with their mother, usually persuading Sirius to go along with their mother's wishes in order to keep him from getting punished, but his brother was one stubborn git.

“Come on, Reggie,” Sirius urged, wiggling his eyebrows. “It'll be fun! We can pretend to have wands and duel.”

Regulus rolled his eyes at his brother. “If Mother-”

“You're goody-goody with the elf; ask him to zip his mouth.”

Regulus scowled. “That elf has a name, you know.”

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So, are you coming or not?” Regulus sighed before giving in and following his older brother outside. As soon as the two boys got outside, Sirius looked around in search of a branch they could use as make-believe wands.

“Aha! Here you go, baby brother, a wand.” Sirius grinned, passing a thin branch to him. Regulus eyed the branch in his hand. “Do all wands look like this?” He asked, his nose scrunching in disgust.

“I dunno, s'pose so,” Sirius shrugged. “Bella's wand looks like a wonky twig, though.” Regulus cringed at the mention of their eldest cousin.

“I don't like Bellatrix.” Regulus muttered.

Sirius chuckled. “Who doesn't? Bella's a bit...mad. Glad we're not spending summer with them this year.”

Regulus smiled at the thought of spending the summer away from London. It was going to be their first time in France, and both boys were ecstatic. They have heard so much about the Black estate in France from their uncle Alphard, who spent all of his summers along with his siblings in the estate. Sirius and Regulus could not believe that their mother was once a happy child, much to Alphard's amusement.

“You think Mother and Father will leave us alone in France?” Regulus asked, fiddling with the stick in his hands.

“They do it every day, Reg.” Sirius rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Walburga Black was not the maternal kind; she had no patience for things related to child care. She decidedly left it all to the house-elves to care for her sons.

“Right,” Regulus cleared his throat, “so are we duelling or not?”

Sirius gripped his wand and waved it around. “Prepare to duel!” He grinned mischievously, aiming the faux wand at his brother. “Jelly legs!”

Regulus pretended his legs had turned to jelly and stumbled around clumsily. Making Sirius burst out into laughter. Regulus quickly turned and pointed his wand at his brother. “Tickles!”

Sirius twitched his nose and looked around himself, pretending that he could feel the invisible tickles. He aimed his stick at his brother again. “Eat slugs!”

Regulus fell to his knees, pretending to vomit on the ground with a smirk. The garden was filled with giggles from the two boys as they duelled each other.

“That was fun!” Regulus laughed, trailing behind his brother as they carefully walked back inside the house.

Sirius turned to look at his brother and grinned triumphantly. “Told you.”

“You two look filthy!” Sirius and Regulus turned around, only to see their mother glowering at them.

“What did I tell you?” Walburga seethed at her sons. Regulus hid behind Sirius, who stood defiantly in front of his mother. “We just went out to the garden, Mother.”

“Kreacher! ” Sirius and Regulus flinched as their mother's shrill voice echoed through the house.

There was a loud popping sound, and the elf appeared next to their mother. “Mistress be wanting Kreacher?”

“Take the boys and make them look presentable. After that, pack their trunks for the summer.” Walburga ordered the elf before yanking Sirius by the arm and pushing him to Kreacher. Regulus whimpered, shifting under his mother's gaze, before walking to his brother's side.

“Keep them in line, Kreacher. We leave at six sharp.”

The elf bowed. “Yes Mistress. All shall be done, oh yes, shall be done.”

“Oh, for Merlin's sake! Hurry up!” Walburga screamed for her children. It was already five forty-five in the evening, fifteen minutes before the Blacks had to leave. She turned to her husband with an annoyed look. “Go get your children.”

Orion let out a loud sigh before turning to walk up the stairs to the boys' room. “Bloody woman, treating me like a dog.” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that!?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Orion quickly ran up, evading his wife's anger.

“Boys, what's taking so long-” Orion opened the door to his sons' room, expecting them to be slacking, only to see Sirius fixing his brother's hair.

“There you go, Reggie!” Sirius declared proudly, handing his little brother a mirror. “You look good, if I do say so myself.”

Regulus took the mirror and looked at himself. His curls were slightly slicked back, with a few tendrils hanging loose and framing his face perfectly. Regulus grinned, passing back the mirror to his brother. “You should do my hair often, Sirius.”

Orion smiled at the sight of his sons. He never had that kind of bond with his own brother. He opened the door and stepped inside, the smile gone from his lips.

Orion cleared his throat, making both boys jump. “Boys, come on. Your mother's waiting downstairs, and you know she's not fond of waiting.”

“Yes, father.” Sirius turned to Regulus, taking his hand in his. “Come on, Reg, summer awaits!” All three of the Black men descended down the stairs. Walburga scowled at the sight of her oldest son's hair.

“I said to look presentable, Sirius.”

Sirius smirked, running a hand through his black mane. “I am presentable, Mother."

“You little-” Walburga raised her hand to strike her son when her husband cut her off.

“Just get in the fireplace, Sirius, Regulus,” Orion sighed, shaking his head. When they didn't move, he lightly pushed his eldest. “Now!”

Both boys scrambled to the dusty old fireplace, Regulus gripping the ends of his brother's robes. Sirius had a grin plastered on his lips, provoking his mother further.

“Get a handful of floo powder, Sirius,” Orion ordered. Sirius turned to the pot of black powder on the side of the wall, taking a handful of it in his small hands.

“Now you must say this clearly; otherwise, you and your brother would get transported to the wrong place. Black Manor, Dinard, loud and clear, Sirius.” The seven-year-old boy nodded, clearing his throat before loudly speaking.

“Black Manor, Dinard!”

Green flames engulfed the two brothers as they were transported into a beautiful sitting room. The smell of wood and spice immediately invaded their nostrils as soon as the two boys stepped out of the fireplace. Sirius and Regulus were awestrucked. The manor in France was far better than Grimmauld Place.

It was a sight to behold. It had a grandiose feeling, as if it had been lifted straight from the pages of an old French novel.

The walls of the elegant room were a deep forest green, the shade of which had been carefully matched to the hue of the lush gardens outside. In the centre of the room was the focal point, a large emerald green velvet sofa that seemed to invite anyone to sink into its depths. On either side of the sofa were two matching armchairs, upholstered in the same emerald velvet. The cushioning was studded with silver buttons that shone when the sunlight hit them, and the legs were carved from dazzling marble. Behind the sofa, the walls were lined with large, dark wood bookcases and cabinets filled with fine silver trinkets and antique books. An old-style grandfather clock was tucked away in the corner, counting down the minutes with its sombre ticking. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, and Persian rugs covered the floor.

For illumination, several grand candelabras rested on the tables and were held aloft by marble pillars, which were intricately carved with rococo details. Each candelabra was adorned with five burning white candles that cast a soft, golden glow over the room.

A grand piano sat in the corner by the arched window, while a gleaming bronze chandelier hung above it. There were gilded mirrors on the walls with silver frames that gave the room an extra sparkle. There were huge windows around the room, with rich green velvet curtains in a silver pattern parted in the middle to let light in.

A place of true elegance and sophistication. It was as if every detail was chosen with care, from the luxurious green and silver brocade that draped the walls to the gleaming marble floors and the grand mahogany-framed clock overlooking the room.

The flames roared again, revealing their parents. Walburga stepped out and immediately screamed for a house elf.

With a loud pop, a small elf appeared. It looked better than what Kreacher looked like. The elf wore a tea towel around its waist and a huge green ribbon atop its head.

“Mistress be needing Dilly?”

Walburga turned to her sons. “These are my sons, your young masters. They will be spending the whole summer here. I trust that my sons will be taken care of.”

“Dilly will take very good care of her young Masters; yes, she will. Only the best for the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

Walburga nodded curtly before turning her attention to her sons. “You both shall be on your best behaviour for the whole of summer. Do you understand? If word gets out to me that you two show anything less of what I have taught you, there will be consequences.”

Regulus visibly gulped, shifting under his mother's gaze. “Yes, mother.”

Sirius looked unaffected by their mother's gaze. “Yeah, yeah, behave and all that.”

Suddenly, the fireplaces erupted into green flames once more. Out stepped a little girl with long (y/h/c) hair tied in pigtails and bright (y/e/c) eyes dressed in a frilly lavender-coloured dress. She was clutching a white-stuffed bunny in her arms as she looked around.

“Greetings, little one.” Orion greeted the little girl, who gave him a small, shy smile. Y/N fiddled with her hair as she stood by the fireplace, waiting for her parents. A little while later, the flames erupted again, revealing Nicholas and Calliope Selwyn. Y/N quickly hid behind her mother, clutching the skirt of her robes.

“Walburga, Orion, it's been so long,” Calliope greeted, taking a step closer to the Black matriarch, leaning in for a hug.

Y/N eyed the older woman curiously. She had aristocratic features, high cheekbones, and full lips, making her look regal and elegant as she stood. The little girl tugged on her mother's skirt. “Mummy!” she whispered fiercely, tugging on her mother's skirt harder. Calliope pulled away from the raven-haired witch with a chuckle as she looked down at her daughter.

Regulus looked at Y/N with an unamused look, scrunching his nose in annoyance. “She looks like a spoiled brat.” he whispered to Sirius, who nodded in agreement.

Walburga smiled down at the little girl, which shocked Sirius and Regulus. “You must be Y/N.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the older woman. She looks scary, Y/N thought before promptly hiding behind her mother's back.

Walburga chuckled. “She's a bit shy, I see.”

Calliope laughed. “Oh no, my daughter is anything but shy.” Her gaze then fell onto the two boys huddled in the corner.

“Sirius, Regulus, come forward and introduce yourselves,” Orion instructed. Both boys stepped forward, standing tall and proud.

“Sirius Orion Black, the third at your service.” Sirius grinned proudly before bowing, his long hair falling over his face.

Calliope laughed at the young boy's enthusiasm. “You've gotten bigger since the last time I've seen you, young Sirius.”

“My name's Regulus, Regulus Arcturus Black.” Regulus smirked proudly, bowing like his brother.

“My, my, such well-mannered boys.” Calliope praised.

Walburga beamed proudly. “I taught them well.”

Sirius snorted, making Regulus chuckle. Their mother did not teach them anything because she threatened them if they did not comply with all her rules.

"Y/N, darling, introduce yourself to Mr. and Mrs. Black, my love."

“No.” Y/N huffed behind her mother.

“Come on, darling. Introduce yourself; tell them how you love dressing up.” Nicholas chuckled, nudging his daughter from behind his wife. Y/N reluctantly stepped out, a scowl etched on her lips. “Y/N Artemis Rosier Selwyn.” She introduced herself with a curtsy.

“Sirius, Regulus, go ahead and kiss Y/N's hand like a true gentleman.” Walburga urged, pushing Sirius slightly.

Sirius grinned mischievously as he took Y/N's hand and softly placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I am pleased to meet you, my fair maiden.”

“Likewise.” Y/N gave him a small smile.

Regulus rolled his eyes at Y/N. She looked like a girly girl. And he hated those kinds of girls. His cousins Narcissa and Andromeda were like that, and it wasn't fun. The two older girls would always drag him and his brother into whatever they pleased. And it annoyed Regulus more than it annoyed Sirius.

“Go on, Regulus,” Walburga urged her youngest son, who scowled.

“Hello, Y/N. I'm very pleased to meet you,” Regulus said, his tone annoyed.

“Pleased to meet you, Regulus.” Y/N curtsied. Regulus walked back to Sirius, only to be stopped by his mother. “Ah, ah, ah!” She urged her son, pushing him to kiss Y/N's hand.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as Regulus' face contorted in disgust. He looks conceited, and Y/N wanted to punch him in the face just because of it. Regulus reluctantly took her hand, scrunching his nose in disgust before kissing her hand as quickly as he could.

“So happy you could come.” Regulus sneered.

“So happy to be here.” Y/N said with a sickening sweet voice, rolling her eyes at the boy.

“She's a darling, Calliope. Such a fine young lady!” Walburga complimented the little girl with a smile.

“Yes, she is.” Calliope chuckled, beaming at her daughter.

“But don't let that innocent face fool you. She has the famous Rosier temper.” Nicholas laughed.

“Ah yes, the famous Rosier temper.” Orion agreed. “I do believe we all know what that temper is capable of.”

“Ah, so you've been a victim of it?” Calliope asked with a smirk.

“Cygnus' wife, Druella.” Orion laughed. “Let's just say that I couldn't utter a word for a week.”

All the adults burst out laughing, leaving the children confused. Regulus perked up at the mention of his aunt Druella, whom he liked the most because she gave him the most sweets.

“I remember that! Drue was absolutely furious that you called her fat once when she was pregnant with her first.” Walburga snorted, almost forgetting about her manners.

“Mummy, can I go play?” Y/N asked, interrupting the adults' laughter.

Calliope looked down at her daughter. “Why don't you ask Mrs. Black, mon ange?”

Y/N scowled, much to her father's amusement. She then reluctantly turned to Walburga, with a pleading look in her big, bright eyes—a look her father knew so well.

“Can I please go and play, Mrs. Black?” Y/N asked, her voice sweet and innocent.

Walburga chuckled. “Yes, my dear. After all, the manor will be your home for the summer. Go ahead and play in the garden with Sirius and Regulus while your parents and I catch up.”

“Thank you!” Y/N grinned before running out to the garden.

Sirius chuckled while Regulus groaned. “What a total bummer.” He couldn't believe he was going to be stuck with her all summer long. Regulus was sure she didn't like anything that he and Sirius liked to do, like quidditch or playing in the dirt. She looked so stuck up, and it made Regulus want to run away from her. He'd rather get chicken pox than be in the same room with her.

Walburga cocked an eyebrow at her sons, telling them to go and follow Y/N. Sirius ran outside to the garden with Regulus hot on his heels. The boys spotted Y/N sitting on the grass as she looked up at the starry sky.

“Whatcha lookin' at?” Sirius asked as he sat beside Y/N.

“What do you think I'm looking at?” Y/N said sarcastically, not batting an eye at the two boys who were beside her.

“Ouch, venomous.” Sirius grinned, scooting closer to Y/N. “You looking at the stars? Looking for me, huh?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the older boy beside her. Her eyes then landed on Regulus, who had his lips curled into a scowl, as if it were normal.

“What are you scowling at?” Y/N snapped at Regulus.

“Nothing,” Regulus sneered, turning his gaze away from Y/N. He couldn't stand her; just looking at her made him want to vomit. Y/N rolled her eyes, wanting so badly to just run away and never come back.

“Your brother's a git.” Y/N whispered in Sirius' ear.

“He'll grow on you.” Sirius promised with a smirk.

“Regulus looks conceited.”

Regulus' ears perked up at the mention of his name. He was conceited!? How dare she!?

“What did you say?” Regulus snapped, stepping closer to Y/N.

Y/N smirked. “You heard me.” She then turned back to face the stars.

Regulus huffed, his annoyance towards the girl turning into anger. He walked up to the flower beds and scooped up a handful of mud before walking back to Y/N and Sirius.

“Oi, Y/N!” Regulus yelled. As soon as she turned around, Regulus threw the clump of mud at the younger girl.

“My dress!” Y/N shrieked as mud splattered across her face and dress. She tried to wipe it off, but it was of no use. She glared at Regulus, who was smirking. Y/N balled her hands, clenching them into tight fists before storming up to Regulus and punching him square in the nose. Regulus stumbled back as he clutched his bleeding nose.

“You git!” Y/N screamed angrily as she tried to land a punch again. Regulus then pushed Y/N into a nearby bush. “I hate you! I hate you to the moon and back!” Y/N screamed at him, standing up and running back inside the house.

Sirius and Regulus burst out in a fit of giggles. That girl is certainly a spoiled brat.

“Mummy! Mummy! He threw mud at me!” Y/N shrieked as she approached her mother from the Black's back garden. Her dress was covered in mud, her pigtails were dishevelled, and she had twigs and leaves stuck in her hair. “Mummy! Regulus threw mud at me!” Y/N yelled again, tears forming in her big, bright eyes.

Meanwhile, the boy in question was snickering from behind the large oak door.

“The little spoiled princess got what she deserved.” Regulus grinned triumphantly at his older brother, who was trying his best not to burst out laughing at the sight of little Y/N Selwyn, stomping her foot at her mother and father, demanding that they do something about Regulus' behaviour towards her.

This was not her idea of fun.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @lilmaymayy @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @starrystormwritings

457 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 5 months

Note

violent stalker mattheo riddle.... each guy and girl readers ever spoken to? damn wdym they showed up beaten up the next day and they dont even know who did it ????

i feel like he'd also get violent with reader and ykw .... im so insane id let him beat me bloody .

"i'm doing this because you're not listening to me, sweetheart. how else am i supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn't do?"

hey uh, future requesters: giving me a line of dialogue or smth to build around means i’ll finish your request WAY faster. tysm anon 😭

requests open

prometheus — yandere! insane! stalker! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

wow! there’s a fuck ton of really fucking dark violence, murder, torture, manipulation, abduction, and horrific domestic abuse in this! please be careful if you choose to read this!

1.5k words!

i jokingly took a sociopathy test with a couple of friends earlier today and i scored like really high so uh dunno how to feel about that

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Am I…am I in trouble or something, Professor…?”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and she looked at you over the rim of her glasses. She folded her hands together neatly where they rested on her desk before speaking. “Not for now, no. Relax a bit, dear. The law states that you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

“That’s not- that doesn’t really make me less nervous.”

The professor opened her mouth to speak again when a chime alerted her to an incoming floo call.

With a wave of her wand, the flames flared green and a genial-looking man stepped out of the fireplace. He brushed soot off of his robes and grinned brightly as soon as he caught sight of the professor.

“Minerva! Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid Quincy isn’t going to make it. Corbett is sick, poor thing, so he’s staying home with him today,” the man gushed, evidently quite close with the professor.

“Oh, send them both my well wishes, Hez, dear. Anyway, this is the student you asked to see, Y/n L/n,” she motioned towards you.

The man gave you a cheery grin—far too cheerful for this early in the morning—and held out his hand for you to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mx. L/n. I’m Auror Hezekiah Ackerly. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?”

You dubiously shook his outstretched hand, a bit put off by his bright grin that never seemed to dim. “Sure.”

“Wonderful!” the Auror pulled the second office guest chair closer and sat down across from you. “Let’s get the easy questions out of the way. Do you have many friends? Or maybe a small, close-knit group of people you regularly hang out with?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck kind of question was this?

“Uh, I guess a close-knit group?”

Auror Ackerly summoned a notebook and quill, writing quickly. “Who belongs to this group?”

Seriously, this felt more like being at a psychiatrist’s office than being questioned by a government official.

“Er, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger? And sometimes Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood?”

Seriously, what was going on?

“And do you have any…romantic relationships? Any troubles or issues there?”

Your eyes narrow. “What’re you playing at?”

“Cormac McLaggen was found dead in the Forbidden Forest this morning,” Professor McGonagall cut to the chase, interrupting Auror Ackerly. “You were the last known person to have spoken to him, and several of your peers attest that they heard an argument break out between the two of you last night after dinner.”

Your eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. “Dead? Wh- how?”

“That’s what we at the Ministry would like to know,” Auror Ackerly interjected smoothly. “You’re not in trouble, Mx. L/n, but I am here to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.”

Your jaw dropped.

They thought you did this?

~~~

You sat at a table, alone in some room deep inside the Ministry building.

You huffed, folding yet another paper crane from the stack of sticky notes Ackerly had oh-so-thoughtfully left for you after your interrogation.

You set the finished bird on the table, the small pile of origami cranes you’ve made while waiting slowly getting larger.

Peeling off another sticky note, you started folding another when a nice-looking man in well-pressed robes entered the barren room and stopped in front of your table. He looked down at you with mild bafflement.

“L/n, I presume?”

“That’d be me,” you mumbled, adding your newest crane to the pile.

The man smiled gently before waving a hand over your paper birds and enchanting them to fly.

You tried to hide your awe as you look up at the cranes that floated and soared around the room.

The man smiled at your reaction. “It’s quite nice to finally meet you, Mx. L/n. You’ve been the topic of many a discussion today.”

“I’d imagine so, yes,” you said dryly. “Not many teenagers accused of murder coming through the department, huh?”

He grinned. “Not really, no.”

The man pulled out the other chair at the table, sitting down across from you and rifling through the thick manila folder he held.

“Are you here to interrogate me some more?” You asked suspiciously. “Ask Ackerly, man. I already told him everything I know.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m your lawyer, Mx. L/n.”

You blink. “I don’t have a lawyer. My family can’t afford that.”

“You always have the right to an attorney, Mx. L/n,” he said kindly as he held out his hand to you. “Octavian Foxglove, Esquire.”

“Y/n L/n, but you already knew that,” you greet, shaking his hand.

He smiled again.

He was a very smiley man.

He laid out the manila folder and turned it around on the table so that you would be able to see it.

The first paper on top was a copy of your school records, with a bright red PRIMARY SUSPECT stamped over the top of your picture.

You grimaced.

Your lawyer nodded sympathetically. “There’s a photo underneath that page, by the way. Supposedly the last photo we have of McLaggen still alive and, uh…it’s not looking great for you, in all honesty.”

You moved your school records page aside, finding a standard moving photograph paperclipped to the inside of the file.

It showed, quite clearly, you speaking with Cormac McLaggen in a hallway. Picture-Cormac angrily threw his arms up in the air and silently yelled at picture-you, while your body language in the photo loudly screamed ‘furious & upset’.

He was right. It wasn’t a great look.

“And there’s only one thing I need you to- oh, where is it?” He dug through the inside pockets of his robes, procuring a pen. “Aha! The next page has a simple contract. I just need a signature stating that you either accept me as your public defender, or would like to request someone else from the Ministry to handle your case.”

You nod, flipping the page to the contract he indicated. Mr. Foxglove smiled again and held the pen out to you.

As soon as your fingers made contact with the pen, you vanished.

~~~

You stumbled blindly, almost falling to the floor before a hand caught your elbow and steadied you.

“Easy, careful.”

You whirled around, surprised to see a different man in Mr. Foxglove’s clothes. He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

“Woah- slow down, kid. You’re fine.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m- was your lawyer,” he shrugged and smiled. “Augustus Rookwood, at your service.”

It dawned on you. “It was a portkey,” you breathed. “The pen. It was a portkey, wasn’t it?”

“Clever kid,” he sounded impressed. “Now c’mon. The boss wants to see you.”

You followed the man without complaint; half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that Augustus Rookwood was an Azkaban escapee charged with at least forty counts of first degree murder.

Pretty simple choice.

It looked like you were in a wealthy aristocrat’s house. Er, mansion, more accurately. The hallway you were walking down was old and stuffy and dusty, and the overall aura of Dark magic that permeated the very air of the house sent shivers down your spine.

Rookwood led you down a flight of rickety stairs to the first floor, and then down a narrow hallway and into a study, where he left you without another word.

The study itself was old. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust except for the pristine and polished bureau right in the center.

(Obviously, ‘the boss’ was sitting at this desk.)

((Villains tend to be predictable like that.))

However, you were surprised to see that ‘the boss’ was-

“Riddle?”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, a wide grin spreading across his face as he hurriedly got up from his desk.

“Y/n, darling, hello!” He gushed, practically skipping over towards you before pulling you into a very uncomfortable hug. “Sweetheart- oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it here safely! Rookwood really is my only competent assistant; I must be sure to give him a raise.”

You froze up at the unexpected hug, your arms remaining stiffly by your sides. He let go after a moment, but remained just a bit too close for comfort.

“Hopefully the Ministry didn’t give you too hard of a time,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty grin. “I promise Ackerly’s a good man. When he’s, y’know, in control of his own body.”

Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “What?”

“Just a little Imperius, darling, no worries. Did you like your gift?”

You blinked, thrown off by his rapid changes in subjects. “Uh- gift?”

He smiled proudly. “McLaggen? He won’t bother you anymore, see?”

All the color drained from your face.

“You killed Cormac?”

He nods, grinning. “Uh-huh. I heard what McLaggen said to you last night in the hall, and I don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You repeat, your lip curling in disgust. “You’d better not be referring to me.”

Mattheo paused, looking at you in confusion. “What else would I be talking about?”

You scoff in shock, shaking your head. “Yeah, nope, I’m out.”

You turned around without further preamble, marching out of the room and towards the front door that you’d passed earlier. Mattheo laughed and followed you out of the study at a leisurely pace, seemingly unworried.

“Where are you going to go, darling? As far as the general public is concerned, you’re on the run after brutally murdering a classmate. You’re Wanted with a capital W, sweetheart.”

“I’ll figure it out,” you snarled, storming towards the front door.

“Y/n…” He warned, drawing his wand and pointing it at you. “Get back here. Now.”

“Fuck off.” You spat over your shoulder, not sparing him another glance.

That was clearly not the thing to say. As if in slow motion, you heard a dreaded word fall from his lips.

“Crucio!”

You were struck with pain that was so overwhelming, so blinding, so agonizing, that you were sure you were going to die.

You were only half aware that you’d fallen to the floor at some point as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over you. You could feel your bones creaking and grinding together, your skin splitting apart only to knit itself back together just to be torn apart again, like you were some fucked up wixen version of fucking Prometheus.

You were only vaguely aware that you were speaking, pleading. Pleading not for the Unforgivable to be lifted, but for him to just end it, end you, entirely.

“K-kill me! Kill m-me…please!” You begged, blood trailing down from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin. You must’ve bit your tongue hard for it to bleed like that, and the sting from that wound while you speak is just too overwhelming when combined with the pain from the Cruciatus Curse.

Then all at once, it stops.

You gasp for air, your entire body trembling and numb as you lay sprawled across the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

Mattheo kneeled down by your side and cupped your face in his hands with a kind of tender gentleness that felt deeply wrong coming from him.

“See, I’m doing this because you’re not listening to me, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn’t do?” He cooed softly, gently wiping the blood from your chin with the sleeve of his shirt.

You flinched back at his touch. Your body—still wracked with uncontrollable quivers and trembles—tried in vain to crawl away from him.

“Oh no, honey- hey, honey- I promise it’s all over, okay? You were so so good for me. But you see now that you’ve got to stay with me, right?”

Your jaw quivered and your still-stinging tongue felt thick in your mouth, yet you managed to spit vicious hatred towards him.

“G-go to hell.”

A flurry of emotions crossed his face: surprise, anger, guilt, and disappointment; all of which were topped by the underlying aura of pure sadistic glee that exuded from him.

“Oh? Do you need another lesson or two before you learn?” He sighed and shook his head patronizingly. “Very well then, darling. Crucio!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: What will happen as you walk inside the snake pit? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 43: Sympathy for the Devil

You appeared in a large hall. Their invitation turned into a paper heron, flew out of your hands and up in the air before blowing up into small little gold specks, a rather elaborate spell for an invitation, which easily showed the amount of time and money the Rosiers had put into their party. Evan’s father, Arkalis Rosier, was a relevant political figure in the British Ministry, so it made sense.

He was basically the main aid of Harold Mitchum (the current minister) and was actively looking to secure the position in the next election. He was also an ambassador for the Ministry and had met your father during some of his trips, although he had already heard from him since he was close to Orion and your father and Orion went way back.

Either way, if this party was part of his quest to secure his position in the 1980s election, he was definitely doing a fine job at pampering his guests with bright and colourful tricks, among luxuries. You couldn’t say much about the food, but the small snack table displayed near the far corner of the room looked mouthwatering.

“Silas! You made it,” said a man as he approached your father. You swallowed, he looked exactly like Evan, except older, and with a thick scar across his left eye, which looked glassy instead of dark green as the other one.

“Of course. Arkalis, we wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” your mother responded with a bright smile and extended her hand towards him. She did always tend to shine in social situations; shiny grin, elegant manners, and incredibly persuasive stance, she managed to make every single person feel at ease when she was around. You sometimes wondered if it was because of the fairy bIood, running much thicker through their veins or because she had learned, and adapted to your father’s needs.

The fairy bIood made sense, after all, the fae were known for their lavish parties and alluring abilities to humans and wizards alike.

Your father extended his hand and shook the man’s hand, who promptly turned to you. “This must be your daughter.”

You extended your hand politely, channeling a similar energy to your mother’s, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rosier, I am–”

“Oh, I’ve heard plenty of you,” he said with a smile. You swallowed. “Horace told me about the time he teamed you up with Evan on potions, he mentioned you had done a delightful job.”

“Right,” you added as you relaxed.

“Darling, you didn’t tell us you were friends with Evan,” your mom intervened, looking at you softly.

“I didn’t?” you asked nonchalantly. “Must have forgotten,” you shrugged it off. “You know how busy it’s been since I got to the new school, with all the classes and adapting and meeting new people, new teachers and so forth.”

“Of course, of course,” intervened Arkalis. “The young girl is right, you cannot expect her to tell you every single thing.”

Well, at least he’s nicer than his child, you thought as you looked at Arkalis and nodded in agreement. Your father, who clearly thought you befriending Evan would be an excellent political advantage was looking at you with a rather stern face. Holding back from speaking but not quite hiding his feelings completely. You pouted in return and continued nodding along with Arkalis.

Eventually, Arkalis had to go and your father grabbed your arm, gently pulling you to him and whispering through gritted teeth, “You didn’t think it would be clever to tell us you are friends with his son?”

“I am so far from being friends with Evan Rosier I might as well be on a different planet entirely,” you responded as you tried to shake his hand off. Even though he had grabbed onto you gently, the fact that he had done it was upsetting, especially with how much it reminded you of being manhandled by Barty and his gang.

Your father huffed and let your arm go, you pulled it back and gave him a rather defiant look, “What? Don’t tell me I now must also make friends that are politically convenient to your career?”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you did.”

You looked at the ground bitterly, remembering the bruises on your neck and the scraping on your knee and the splinching you had gotten on that November moon, then turning back to him with a calm expression, “Wouldn’t it?”

“Darling,” your mom intervened, pulling your father from you by hooking her arm with his, “It’s the Sallows, let’s greet them,” she added, your father’s gaze softened for a second, as if he could see through your brave façade, but he turned back to your mother shortly after, and walked along with her to greet the other family.

Right, go, who gives a fuck anyway, you thought bitterly as you took off in another direction, straight to that food table that had caught your eye a few minutes ago. You picked one of the small bruschettas and took a small bite of it as you looked through the window. Smoked Salmon, you realised as you savoured it. Outside, the sun was starting to set, the gardens were vast and covered by a thick layer of snow, and there was some kind of hedge maze that appeared to be surrounding the property. Perhaps with several spells to keep the muggles away from their house. It was actually rather clever.

There were a few crows perched on the hedges, black and contrasting with the layer of snow as they picked out something from their branches. While they gave the outside a rather ominous look, it also kind of made sense, considering the heritage of the Rosiers. Some people thought they were related to the eldest Peverell brother, in fact, you had heard rumours of Arkalis looking for the Deathly Hallows, even if most people considered them nothing more than fantasies.

“What are you doing here?” a scolding voice asked.

You turned around hastily to find Regulus leaning against the table with a sneaky smirk in his mouth. You sighed, “Godric, Reggie!”

His smile widened and he shrugged, “Fancy seeing you, I spotted your parents earlier, imagined you’d be here too.”

“Well you’re as clever as sneaky, congratulations!” you said before taking another bite of your bruschetta, it was delicious.

“You shouldn’t be here though,” he added in a more serious tone, “I overheard my parents talking about–”

And then it happened, the two large doors at the entrance of the hall snapped open and a man walked inside, making the most dramatic entrance you had ever seen in your life –and you were dating Sirius Black. He looked about as old as Arkalis, except this man was much better looking, not to say Arkalis was ugly –then again, you might have been biased because you despised his son.

Regardless, something about the man was oddly familiar, he had dark hair arranged in a perfectly put-together hairstyle that swooped in a rather elegant way. He was wearing dark wizard robes, although vintage looking, clearly expensive since the material flowed with a cadence that only the finest fabrics could match. He had a charming smile plastered across his delicate features as he approached Arkalis, easily greeting him like an old friend.

You watched with curiosity, the room seemed awfully silent since he walked in, there weren’t even whispers, Regulus had gone quiet too, as if they knew the man, as if they feared him. You looked at him again, at the elegant curve of his handsome nose and that’s when you knew who he was. You pictured him with a robe, darker lighting, in a blurry photo somewhere in the Daily Prophet that insisted on avoiding the subject.

“It’s Voldemort,” you whispered as you swallowed thickly, in absolute disbelief of what was going on around you.

You’d expect someone to scream, someone to pull out their wand or at least someone to apparate the hell away, but everyone seemed perfectly fine with the fact that the self-proclaimed dark lord had just busted the party like some sort of Maleficent from the sleeping beauty.

“Reggie, do you know who that–”

He shook his head in response, not because he was responding to your question, but rather in a warning manner, clearly telling you to remain as silent as the rest of the people in the room. You gave him a look combined with a sigh and you saw his jaw tighten as he nodded his head. Another warning. Whatever was about to happen, couldn’t be good. You were in the middle of what could possibly a tеrrorist attack–

Except you weren’t.

“Tom, a pleasure to have you here already,” Arkalis said, approaching the taller man with a bright smile, as bright as the one he had greeted your dad with. No, brighter actually.

It took 10 seconds of the following exchange for you to realise that you weren’t in the middle of a tеrrorist attack but rather that you were at their dinner party.

Does my father even know? You wondered, and then you spotted him amiably talking to Orion, who seemed as relaxed as possible with the entrance of the Dark Lord into Arkalis’ party. Of course he did, you thought as you tried to hold back a scoff.

You looked around carefully, not a single wizard seemed perturbed by the situation, not a single one had raised their wands against the man. Even Reggie looked relatively at ease as he witnessed the entire exchange, as if he had seen something similar happen before, that’s when the eerie thought crept up: He has seen this before. And of course, he had, he was the perfect child, polar opposite of Sirius. When you met him he was always scared of doing something that could enrage his parents, terrified of their reaction to him even thinking the wrong thing.

While Sirius had rebelled against his parents, Regulus had set out to be the ideal child, following their orders to protect himself from the wrath his brother often faced. His survival mechanism was to be the perfect Black child, and if his parents were Dark Wizards then he would have to become one too, at least until he was old enough to flee.

You looked at him with a pained expression, feeling the same way you had when you figured that he hadn’t been the one to tell on you, but rather been forced to do it, life had been unfair to him then, and was being unfair to him now. And you had no idea if you could even find a way to help him. It was in moments like that, when you realised how much he was like Sirius, both trapped, just in different ways.

But then again, were you any different? Weren’t you also at the party talking to dark wizards like they were any other influential person in society? Weren’t you standing there, like every single other person, looking at the interaction without raising your wand?

Of course, you didn’t stand a chance in a duel against the Dark Lord, but wouldn’t the right thing be to try? Wasn’t that what you had been training to do? No, that’s not it either. You remembered a conversation you’d had with Nightshade before you started training, she had said you were talented, but that wasn’t the end of it, your father’s contacts were a key factor here. If you managed to gather enough information tonight, perhaps then you could use that information against them in the future.

In the end, you’d do what your father has asked you to do from the very start, play the role of the perfect little politician’s daughter, smile and nod and charm people in the same way your mother did often, all in the simple effort to get something useful out of their head’s tonight. You took a deep breath, all that occlumency you had been practising would be more necessary than it had ever been.

“Excellent, why don’t we eat now?” Tom asked with a charming smile, “I believe you have a surprise prepared for later tonight.”

Evil doesn´t always look the part, you thought as you stared at him, he had a charisma similar to that of your mother, if a little sinister. He walked alongside Arkalis, who was quickly joined by his wife Astoria Rosier, an elegant, fair-haired woman that looked far younger than she could possibly be. Orion and your father followed next, along with a few other people whom you hadn’t identified yet.

“Not everyone will dine with them I assume?” you said turning to Regulus.

He shook his head in response, “Only some of us will.”

“Of course,” you said with a nod, you too were expected to sit on the same table as them.

You walked alongside Regulus and a few more people towards one of the doors, you saw Evan joining their parents. Barty was at the party too, you had spotted him in the distance earlier, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be part of the few selected, since he had stayed where he was, talking to a girl whom you didn’t recognize from school, but that oddly reminded you of your boyfriend.

When you reached the table inside the private dining room, you realised the seats had been tagged for everyone. Tom, as Arkalis kept calling the most evil wizard alive, had taken the head of the table while the host, and unsurprisingly, Orion, had taken the two seats next to him. Your father was right next to Orion and there was a rather young man with pale blond hair, as long as Lily’s but completely straight. He couldn’t have been much older than you, he looked in his early twenties at most, a child.

Your mother was close to your father, Astoria and Walburga right next to her. From there, there was a stern-looking man who you didn’t recognize and a curly-haired woman who looked about as unhinged as Barty. It was your position on the table that you found dire, you were sitting across from your mother and in between the long-haired blond, who looked displeased by having you sitting there instead of someone else and none other than Evan Rosier. When you saw his name next to yours on the small floating name tags, you had to bite your tongue to avoid the displeased sigh that was just about to escape your mouth.

When you sat down, the small paper with your name displayed on it disappeared, and on your plate appeared a fresh-looking salad. Evan sat down beside you a couple of minutes afterwards.

“Evan,” you greeted with a tight smile and a simple nod. Yes, you had to play a part, that didn’t mean you’d have to be best friends with Evan Rosier for the night. Why was Regulus so damn far away? You swore he was about the one other person in this entire party with whom you’d actually want to be sitting and there were about seven other people in between the two of you. You took a deep breath and turned to your salad as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire dining room, perking your ears when you heard Orion speak again.

They mentioned something regarding the salad being fresh, which you thought was the most philistine compliment someone could ever give, and then they started going on about the weather. Apparently, it had been an abnormally cold winter in England this year. And while White Christmas’ weren’t uncommon, they were a lot more rare than they had been in the past few years.

You heard your mother say something about global warming to Walburga, who seemed puzzled as if she had never heard the term in her life, which in hindsight she might not have since she lived in her own little pure-bIood wizard bubble and tended to stay the hell away from muggle news. Your parents always knew what was happening with the muggles, they thought it was important to stay informed to be able to maintain the relationships between the muggle world and the wizarding world as forthcoming as possible.

You stabbed a small piece of tomato and brought it to your mouth as you thought of how stupidly prosaic the small talk of dark wizards was. Were they holding back because it was a Christmas dinner? Were they all going to pretend Voldemort wasn’t sitting at the head of the table, eating the same boring salad as the rest of you?

How did they even manage to accomplish all their evil deeds if they were just talking about the scores of the latest quidditch championships? Okay, that was Evan talking with whoever was sitting beside him, but still. These people were supposed to be the most dangerous wizards on the planet and yet they were–

“So tell me, how is the little errand I asked for going?” Asked Tom.

There it is, you thought as you sat a little straighter and paid closer attention to their conversation. By now the salad had disappeared and there was a broccoli soup sitting across from you, the taste was actually pretty good, quite cheesy. Apparently, cheese was the right choice no matter how morally diverse the audience you were hosting was. Although, you weren’t sure their audience really was all that morally diverse, except for you and perhaps Regulus.

“Excellent,” Arkalis responded as he turned to Tom, he looked awfully pleased with himself. “They’re downstairs, waiting for the show.”

Tom took a spoon of his soup and then smiled. You saw a snake slowly creeping up his chair, and he seemed awfully comfortable around her when he noticed. The snake hissed and he said something back to her. He speaks parseltongue.

Now, that might not be new information for Dumbledore, but it was to you. The Daily Prophet didn’t talk about all the skills the Dark Lord had honed through the years. It’s ridiculous, you thought. What if someone tried to use serpensortia against him and got killed by their own spell? Of course, someone who thought that spell was enough to go against Voldemort was going to get killed later on anyway. Regardless, it should already be common knowledge what he was good and bad at.

“Good, I suppose we’ll be enjoying the spectacle when the dinner’s done?”

“Indeed,” Orion said this time around. “Things must be prepared for the ceremony.”

Ceremony? What fucking ceremony? You thought as you took another spoon of your soup. You tried to keep your eyes on it, as if not to seem like you were prying.

“Is the soup really that interesting to you?”

Godricbedamned, not now fuckface, you thought as you turned around to Evan, “It’s really good, actually. More interesting than you and your friend gushing about your quidditch crushes for sure.”

The blond man next to you, whom you had now learned was Lucius, snorted when he heard your reply while Evan clenched his jaw and looked at his parents nervously, as if trying to make sure he hadn’t caught your exchange. You followed his gaze and then turned back to look at him with a slight smirk. So that was a low blow then? You thought as you recalled, he had only talked about male players with his other friend.

Oh, it’s because Daddy doesn’t know. Better leave the subject behind. You weren’t planning to out him, no matter how much of an asshole he continued to be, even if last time he had actually gotten Severus off your back. Speaking of him, it was a delight not to have to see his long face around, looks like his family didn’t make the cut to be invited to the pit of snakes you were currently in.

“At least I have someone that’s interested in talking to me.”

“If I was interested in talking, I’d have already struck a conversation Evan, not all of us are eager to say every single thing that comes to mind.”

“You wish.”

You hmphed at that and turned your head to the other side, “Lucius, would you mind passing me the salt?” you asked politely. He turned to you a little confused at first, as if he was surprised you had talked to him and then nodded, handing over the salt to you an instant later. “Thank you. Your shoes are very elegant, by the way.”

Lucius seemed both surprised and pleased that you had noticed his shoes. They were impeccable like he had either bought them for this event or had them cleaned and polished. He had walked with slow decision as he approached the table earlier, and when you spotted his shoes, you realised why he was being as careful with them as he had been with his hair throughout the night. This man cared about looking good.

“Oh, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I got them custom-made by a very elegant designer, you might have heard of him, Alistar Shoman.”

Gotcha!

“You’re telling me that’s a pair of Shomans? That’s incredible.”

Lucius seemed pretty pleased with the conversation, you threw a side glance at Evan who just scoffed and turned to speak to his friend again, all the while you looked at Lucius and pretended the history of the Shoman company was the most interesting thing in the world. Perhaps it was just slightly more interesting than the broccoli soup.

Then you heard your name drop from Orion’s mouth and you turned to him with the most polite expression you could muster.

Fuck. You had been paying so much attention to Lucius’ stupid talk to prove Evan wrong that you had missed the one bit of relevant information they had been talking about, and now they were calling you for some reason. What a miserable spy you would make.

“Yes, Mr. Black?” You asked.

“We were just talking about the fact that we’ve been so busy that we haven’t been able to go watch the Quidditch Matches recently, but we’ve been told they have been outstandingly interesting.”

You felt the tension in his voice, they probably knew you had sought against Regulus in the Slytherin vs Gryffindor Match.

“They have been,” you said with a nod. “Quidditch is certainly something intense at Hogwarts, all of the teams are incredibly capable. It certainly has been a challenge to be able to keep up with my position.”

Orion laughed at that, “Such modesty.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond to that but with a small smile. “Slughorn told me you were one of the most promising players,” added Arkalis. “Some teams are already considering you…”

That actually caught you by surprise, you loved quidditch, but you had never actually considered making a career out of it. Lucius turned to you with newfound interest, as if now that he knew what you were capable of you had become actually interesting to him, beyond whatever fashion talk you had held earlier. It was hard to hold the urge to glare at him for it.

“I’m sure all of the players in this table are as good as me, or even better,” you said, thinking of Regulus, and playing your role of clever guest, even if you had given Evan a compliment with it. It wasn’t a lie, Evan was a good chaser, but he was also a total asshole.

“And yet, your team won in the last match,” Arkalis said, making sure to look down on his son as he spoke the last line.

You didn’t turn your gaze to Evan but you could tell he had lowered his gaze from the little you saw in the corner of your eyes. No wonder the boy was like he was, his father was even worse than him. You felt a little pity towards Evan, even if you still disliked him thoroughly.

You decided driving the conversation to a different subject would be the best thing to do before things got even more tense. “How did you meet Professor Slughorn?” you asked, managing to have a genuinely curious look on your face as you did.

“We studied with him,” replied Tom, turning to look at you with a chill-inducing smirk, both charming and dangerous at the same time. He definitely had that cult-leader vibe going for him, no wonder so many people were so eager to follow him, it wasn’t just because he was powerful or because of their shared hate towards muggles, most of the men in the room shared those 2 characteristics. The one thing that made the difference was how much more charming this man was in comparison. “We were both in the Slug Club too, weren’t we, Arkalis?”

Arkalis hummed in response, “Indeed, he used to say Tom was the most brilliant student he ever taught.”

“He likes playing favourites,” you added with a smile.

“He does indeed,” agreed Arkalis, and eyed his son again, his gaze reproachful and thunderous. “He told me you and Evan made an excellent team.”

You remembered that day and tried not to shudder at the thought of Evan’s hand squeezing your injury, “Right we did,” you said as you placed your hand on his shoulder, making sure to dig your nails enough to make him uncomfortable. “He’s delightful to work with,” somehow you managed to make that sound honest rather than sarcastic. “He’s especially good at measuring and mixing.”

Arkalis seemed pleased with your praising of his son, and you thought they might start talking more the more pleased he was, especially since his wine wasn’t refilling fast enough. In fact, every single person in the room seemed to be drinking moderately, as if they were trying to keep their heads clear for whatever surprise they were talking about earlier.

“We’ve been friends ever since, haven’t we Ev?” you added with a charming smile.

“Right,” Evan added, “Best friends.”

Arkalis seemed pleased with the response, your father still looked irritated over the fact that you hadn’t told him about your friendship with Evan, even more so since he thought you lied to him earlier when you said you and Evan were light years away from becoming friends. The rest of the table seemed to buy your lie, except for Regulus who was looking at you with a rather anxious look on his face. While he didn’t know everything Evan had done to you, he had a pretty good idea of some of the things based on things he had heard at the Slytherin table.

You smiled shortly and then someone who you didn’t recognize said something to Arkalis and drew the conversation away from the two of you. Evan leaned over, “What the hell are you playing at?” he asked.

“I’m playing my role as a nice guest, how about you play the one of a nice host and we pretend we don’t hate each other’s guts for the night?” you retorted. “Your father seemed pleased enough about our friendship or whatever.”

“You shouldn’t have come tonight.”

“As if I wanted to,” you scoffed and turned back to listening to the adult’s conversation, they were now going on about the Ministry of Magic. They mentioned something about how he was now doing exactly what he was meant to do and you felt chills run down your spine when you spotted Voldemort’s smile.

The Ministry is on his hands, no wonder there is no news about him on the daily prophet. Just how many deatheaters are out there? All infiltrated on normal day jobs and working towards making the world a much darker place… the idea was horrifying, and yet everyone at the table seemed incredibly pleased with it.

Eventually, you finished dinner, Tom was the first one to stand and he said something about it being time for a show. At this point, you dreaded finding out whatever the hell was his idea of entertainment, from what you’d heard, it couldn’t have been good.

You were on your way towards the exit, trying to find Regulus again when Arkalis walked beside you and offered you his arm, “Darling, would you mind talking to me for a second?” he asked, using a charm similar, but not nearly as masterful as the one Voldemort had.

You looked around trying to find Regulus, of course, Arkalis had asked, but the way he had said it was enough for you to know that it wasn’t actually an option to say ‘no’. Reggie was a few feet from you and he sent you another anxious glance before Orion intercepted him.

“Sure, of course,” you replied as you felt Arkalis’ hand over your shoulder, urging you for an answer, you hooked your hand in his and followed him to a different room, completely missing the absolutely terrified look on Evan’s face.

“How may I be of help to you, Mr. Rosier?” You asked calmly, whatever reason Arkalis had to bring you to the library, it was not intending to hurt you, at least you hoped it wasn’t. And the chances were low since it would be a very stupid decision to make considering who your father was, and how close he seemed to be to Orion, who, you had concluded, was closer to Voldemort than Arkalis, even if they had studied together.

Whether you liked it or not, your parents’ connection to Orion Black, was the reason you were safe in this party.

“You’re friends with Evan, correct?”

You heard a shuffling at the end of the room, turning to look but finding nothing, you narrowed your eyes in that direction only for a second before turning back to Arkalis, he didn’t look like an overly patient man, “Indeed.”

“Excellent,” he said with a nod and then smiled, a smile so warm and kind that you might have bought his good intentions if you hadn’t been deterred by the thing that left his mouth afterwards, “You would tell me if he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing, right?”

Like threatening to throw me off the astronomy tower, choke me and throw me off my broom along with his boyfriend? Sure, you thought.

“Something he shouldn’t be doing?” You played dumb, that seemed to always do the trick for people like Arkalis.

“I’ve heard some rumours about my son.”

Rumours? You wondered. Whatever the hell is he–

“People have been saying he’s really close to a boy in school.”

“Evan has many friends,” you responded, just now guessing what Arkalis could mean.

“Closer than that,” he told you. “It’s a… deviation that happens to muggle men often?”

Fucking hell, you thought when you realised what he meant. Arkalis wants to know if Evan is gay, but the way he approached the subject, using the words “deviation” and “muggle” with such derision. You tilted your head slightly, trying not to look offended by his homophobia.

“I’m not sure I understand, Sir, Evan has many friends.”

“I mean, does he have a boyfriend?” Arkalis asked.

There it is. You played surprised at that. You heard another movement on the side, “Oh, Merlin no!” you said surprised. “I would definitely know if Evan had a boyfriend,” you said, trying to sound as confident as possible. It wasn’t completely a lie, you did know.

Then you felt Arkalis trying to prickle at your mind, looking for something, inside of it, the truth, you realised. And then you gave him what he wanted to see. You used every single ounce of mental power to conjure up one image and one image only. Evan pushing you against the railing of the Astronomy tower, hand in your throat and leaning onto you, the same way it had happened then except, there was no one else, and rather than lean over to threaten you, Evan was leaning over to kiss you.

You tried to hold your thoughts of disgust at the image being projected on your mind as much as possible, but you knew that, at least that scene, would get Arkalis off of Evan’s back for a while.

No, you didn’t like Evan, you’d go as far as to say that you hated his guts, but no matter how much hate you harboured for the blond, you would never out him, let alone to a clearly abusive and homophobic father like Arkalis. Take it as the good deed of the day, you thought as you used memories of kisses with Sirius to make the scene more realistic.

Eventually, Arkalis stopped digging inside your mind and you felt relief wash over you, allowing the horrifying image of kissing Evan Rosier to dissolve. Arkalis pulled back with a pleased smile. “What a deceptive little thing,” he said as he looked at you with a smirk and grabbed onto your jaw to pull your head up slightly. You gave him an innocent look in return, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

Does he know I’m trying to trick him? Did he notice?, you wondered as you moved your hand towards your dress pocket to try and find your wand.

“Pardon?” You asked meekly.

“We all thought you were dating Orion’s eldest son,” he said Sirius’ name with scorn, and you had the urge to spit on his face, you somehow managed to hold back.

“I am dating Sirius,” you replied with an innocent frown, voice still soft, still playing a part, Arkalis had to think you had no idea he had dug inside your mind.

His smile just widened, “Of course, my bad,” he said with a smile and pulled his hand away from your face. “If you see Evan tell him I’m proud of him. He’s got a good eye for women.”

You swallowed thickly but managed to give him a confused nod in response. It was meant to be a compliment, and yet it made you want to puke, you definitely did not like Arkalis better than you did Evan. You didn’t even like him better than you liked Barty.

“Uhm… of course, Sir,” you replied, still playing dumb, his smile grew wider and he bowed his head before exiting the room.

When he was gone you allowed yourself to sigh, shutting your eyes as you thought over everything that had happened. And then you felt a hand in your arm, gripping tightly, just like he had back in potions class.

“What the hell was that about?” Evan asked from behind, he looked absolutely baffled.

“Oh, Evan, you were the one eavesdropping then,” you replied with a sigh and shoved your arm to try and pry his hands off of it. So fucking handsy, you thought as you remembered his father’s stupid hands on your jaw. “Do you mind?”

Evan seemed just as puzzled and slightly angry now too, and while he didn’t let go of you entirely, he did loosen his grip, which you were thankful for. “Why did you–? What the hell did you tell my father?”

“You know, the right way to express what you’re feeling right now is to say thank you,” you replied annoyed, you hadn’t saved his ass for him to be a total asshole about it.

He finally let your arm go completely and passed a hand through his hair, “What I mean to say is, you know about me and Barty, you could have told him, gotten rid of the two of us in an instant, my father would have probably sent me abroad to some other school if he found out and yet you… made him assume I like a woman?”

You sighed, “Look, Evan. I don’t like you, okay? You’ve been an asshole to me from the fucking start and frankly, I wish I could beat the fuck out of you sometimes, but there are lines that I’m not willing to cross. No matter how much of an asshole you are, I would never out someone just because I dislike them, let alone to someone like your father.” And then you scoffed, “Muggle-deviation, fucking hell, just say gay.”

Evan was speechless after that, he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what he should say or if he even should. Perhaps he really should thank you for covering for him, but even that would feel empty. What you had done might have been one of the nicest things anyone had done for him in his entire life, but how could an enemy be the one to do that?

“I– I mean I–”

You sighed again, “Just… leave it,” you said and left the room, and an incredibly confused Evan inside of it.

Evan disliked you, he disliked you for throwing a Quaffle on Barty’s face and breaking his beautiful nose, he hated you for being a know-it-all, he hated you for being good at quidditch and he hated you for being such a self-righteous prick who considered herself better than him. He hated you for constantly teasing Barty and Mulciber and Snape, he hated you for how reckless you were and for picking up fights with people who were bigger and stronger without backing down from them. And his whole idea of you was crumbling down because he wasn’t sure he would have done the same thing in your position. If he knew how to destroy you, would he have hesitated?

Would he have saved you too?

Evan sank to the floor and started to cry, he wasn’t sure if the thick salty drops falling from his eyes were from angry or relieved tears. He didn’t know why he was crying, he just knew he couldn’t stop. The complexity of his emotions churned within him. You had the power to vanish him, you could have told his dad and the one bit of happiness he’d found would have been gone in an instant. He wouldn’t have seen Barty ever again.

Did you even know how much you had done for him in that 5-minute talk you’d had with Arkalis?

Years of hiding, years of being careful, years of feeling like he was wrong, and that what he liked was poisonous, deserving of mistreatment and scorn, years of dreading his father finding something, anything that could out him. All gone in a small little chat, where you barely even fucking spoke. The smile Arkalis had made, the relief in his eyes –the acceptance– that made Evan want to cry even more. Because no matter how great he was, no matter how perfect he was, he would never, ever be truly accepted by his father. Never would he make him as happy as you had by implying to him he liked a girl.

He was miserable, and out of all people, you had been the one to make his sorrow, even if it was just slightly, less painful, less burdensome and less suffocating.

Yet, despite the relief, Evan couldn't shake the lingering bitterness that consumed him. He resented you for knowing his weak spot, and yet, beneath the layer of resentment and anger, there was a tiny ember of gratitude, a flicker of acknowledgement for the unexpected reprieve you had granted him. As he sat there, tears staining his cheeks, he wasn’t sure he could continue hating you anymore.

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A/N: This might be one of my favourite chapters to write. I really like those emotionally charged scenes, but you've probably already noticed. Also, even antagonistic characters have feelings and boy, do some of them run deep... Poor Evan (I told you guys I did like the Slytherin boys, but the rivalry still exists. Even if, to their different points of view, the villain might just be, well: us. Love, Lils xx

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reysdriver · 2 months

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Sleepover | R.B.

You and your family finish off a tiring day with a makeshift sleepover — dad!regulus x mom!reader

warnings: mentions of death (a kid's pet goldfish dies), nightmares, just general parental exhaustion i guess

words: 1.6k

a/n: I've been working on this fic on and off for like a month lmao, but this is my comeback to writing so boom

It’s been a long day. Ascella has been fussy all week, Aurora’s pet goldfish died, so you had to have that talk with her and Perseus plus a fish funeral, and then later, Aurora fell while playing outside and scraped her leg up pretty badly.

And on top of all of that, the Ministry of Magic needed Regulus to work late tonight.

So, that long day got even longer since it was just you taking care of the kids.

By 7 o’clock in the evening, the two older kids kept asking you where their dad was, and all you could tell them was that they would have to wait and see while bouncing Ascella on your leg to quell her tantrum.

Aurora and Perseus eventually listened to you and ditched asking you questions you didn’t know how to answer for a hand-clapping game they had made up the other day, but that was also dropped the second they heard the front door unlocking.

The kids rushed to the door and pounced on Regulus, each choosing one of his sides to hug tightly.

Your husband laughed. Not at the children, but at how he hadn’t even gotten the chance to take his shoes off before they latched onto him.

“Daddy!” They squealed, arms wrapped around his thighs and their faces squished against his waist. “It feels like you’ve been gone a hundred years!”

“A hundred years?!” Regulus parroted sarcastically. “Well, you all look wonderful for your old age!”

They laughed at their dad and let go of his legs. “You look exactly your age!”

Regulus does an exaggerated gasp. “Well, sounds like no dessert for you two for the rest of the week! And get me your mom and your sister who isn’t mean to me.”

The children looked at each other frantically, not realising Regulus had been joking about the dessert. Perseus speaks up for the both of them. “We’re sorry, Daddy! You don’t look a hundred years old, we promise!”

“Alright, I forgive you. Just get your mom and your sister so I can tell them I changed my mind about the dessert.”

Eager to earn their after-dinner sweets back, your two oldest kids run back to you in almost perfect lockstep.

“Daddy’s here!”

“Oh, is that who was at the door?” You feigned surprise, standing up with Ascella. “Come on, honey. Let’s go see Daddy, huh?”

When Regulus saw you and your baby girl walking his way, his lingering smile doubled in size. He hung his jacket up on the coat rack and held out his arms so he could get more hugs from the two of you.

Ascella’s frown disappears to morph into an expression that matches her father’s. She babbled and squirmed in your arms until you were able to pass her over to Regulus.

He pressed a couple of kisses to his daughter’s soft hair, which only made her more excited than she was when she saw her dad for the first time of the day.

Regulus brought his attention off of Ascella and onto you while you watched the two of them laugh and play. You didn’t think you were letting the events of today show on your face, but Regulus seemed to pick them up immediately.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just happy you’re back home.”

Regulus understood what you meant and didn’t press. He just went back to teasing your youngest daughter. “Did you three make it a long day for Mummy? Huh? Did you give her a hard time today?”

Ascella just kept laughing as he tickled her sides and kissed her cheeks.

◆◇◆◇◆

Insistent that she would have trouble sleeping in her room without her fish, Aurora begged to stay with you and Regulus for the night.

You wanted to say no. You’ve been putting Ascella to sleep in the bassinet beside your bed while she’s been sick because she keeps waking up in the middle of the night in a fit of cries and screams. If Aurora slept in your bed, she would have to deal with that as well. Regulus said that it would be fine, so Aurora gladly hopped into your bed, dragging her stuffed rabbit behind her.

While she still wanted to chat before bed like you expected, when you reminded her to whisper because Ascella was asleep near you, she quieted down quickly and fell asleep soon after she stopped talking.

After that, Regulus joined you in bed. Aurora had taken up a fraction of both your side and Regulus’ of the bed, but she had mainly been sprawled across your husband’s half, so he just pushed her over enough for him to lie down.

Now you and Regulus laid across from each other, one little girl lying between you. You smiled sympathetically at the fact that you couldn’t hold each other like you usually would because of Aurora, and Regulus made the same face back.

“I’m sorry I had to work late.” He said quietly. “I know it wasn’t an easy day today. I know me having to stay later than usual didn’t help.” Since coming home, he had heard all the stories about today’s happenings, and he felt worse and worse with every one.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “These kids may be a handful, but there’s nothing about them that’s too much for me.”

“Well, I’ll still try to avoid working late from now on. You never know what a day is going to be like with them.”

“All I care about is that you’re here now.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great company to have.”

You could tell by his little grin that he was expecting you to laugh and argue with him, but he didn’t say anything you could push back against. Instead of fighting him on it, you just put out your hand for him to take in his.

“You are.” You told him sincerely. “For me and for the kids. And everyone else, too.”

He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to your palm. You smiled but held back a giggle, careful not to wake either of your daughters who were sleeping in your room tonight.

Regulus kept his mouth on your skin, moving his kisses further along. It started with your palm, then he trailed over to the ball of your hand, your wrist, your forearm. You tried silently shuffling closer to him so he could reach more of you, but he detached himself from you when you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door.

“Come in, honey.” You called quietly.

The bedroom door opened, and you could hear Perseus sniffling as he made his way across the room. You and Regulus both sat up, concerned for your son, and you held out your arms. Perseus accepted your invite and hugged you tightly, wiping his tears on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, not letting go of your son.

“I had a bad dream. I got scared.”

“Are you still feeling scared?”

He nodded, unlatching his arms from the hug. “A little.”

Regulus spoke up from beside you, still keeping his voice to a low hush. “Do you want to sleep here?”

Again, Perseus nodded, then he crawled onto your lap. You lifted up the covers so he could lay down beside you.

Your husband reached over and tousled your son’s hair lovingly. “We’ll keep you safe here.”

You enveloped Perseus in your arms and kissed the crown of his head while rubbing circles on his back. “Do you want to talk about your bad dream?”

He sniffled into your neck and shook his head. That was okay. You weren’t going to force him to talk and upset himself even more. It was good that he was enjoying your company and feeling safe in your arms.

“That’s alright.” Regulus told him. “We can just all cuddle and enjoy this little sleepover here tonight. How does that sound?”

Perseus lifted his head up to look at Regulus and attempted to muster up a smile and a nod. “That sounds good, Dad.”

You smiled, happy that Perseus was already feeling better than before. “Yeah, we’re all gonna have a nice sleepover, and then we’re gonna have a great day tomorrow?”

Today wasn’t a great day, but you would do anything in your power to make sure tonight was good and tomorrow would be even better.

Perseus nodded sleepily once more at your proposal. “That sounds good too, Mum.”

You started rubbing his back once more to help him calm down and fall asleep faster. It seemed to be working as his breathing became more steady and his heartbeat was going back to normal.

“Goodnight, honey.” You told Perseus, even though you were sure he was too tired to hear you.

You looked up at Regulus, who was watching you lovingly from the other side of the bed. You were certain that if your bedroom wasn’t full of your sleeping children, you would have lunged across the bed for him the second you saw him gazing over at you.

“We should go to sleep too.” Regulus broke the silence. “Don’t want to risk waking them if we stay up and talk.”

You shot your husband a sweet grin. “You’re right, as always. Plus, the faster we get to sleep, the closer we get to the great day we’re gonna have tomorrow.”

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x fem!reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black angst #regulus black fluff #dad!regulus #dad!regulus black #dad!regulus x mom!reader #dad!marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders angst #marauders fluff

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phoward89 · 2 months

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Summary: Coriolanus is bed ridden and healing from his dance with poison, but that doesn't stop him from his political scheming. When he finds out that his political rival lusts after you, he warns you and makes you promise to help poison the man once his District 12 contact comes through and sends him your apothecary book.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus,mentions of blood, cussing, slapping, talks of sex work and mistresses, um that's pretty much it

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Chapter 7:

You had placed Coryo on bed rest a couple of days ago so he'll be able to attend his late wife's funeral. He'll be weak, but at least he'd be able to go to the funeral looking a bit better than he was the night he came home, barely able to stand on his own two feet from the poison he drank.

A funeral that Ma and Strabo Plinth were arranging. They, surprisingly, live in the apartment underneath the penthouse on the 11th floor. You met them when they came over, wanting to check on Coryo; let him know that they'd take care of all of Livia's funeral arrangements.

Ma Plinth was a warm, frumpy woman that just had a motherly aura to her. She talked your ear off and kept stuffing her homemade cookies (she called the little brown scallop-edged things biscochitos) into your hand as you sat with her in the main room while her husband talked to Coryo in the master bedroom.

Apparently, they tried the townhouse he lived in with Livia first, but when they were only met with an Avox, they decided to try the Corso penthouse.

Ma Plinth was so sweet and friendly. She even offered to help you transition into life in the Capitol as a person coming from the districts.

“It can be so difficult adjusting to life here when all you know is the simple life of your district; your traditions. I'm only one floor away if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Did she know something you didn't? Because your stay in the Capitol with Coryo's only temporary, until Victor's Village in 12 is done being built.

Meanwhile, as Ma Plinth showered you with motherly affection, her husband had his own talk with Coryo. The talk about the funeral was brief, but that wasn't the only thing they were talking about.

No.

They were also talking about you.

“I take it that girl's the victor you had me sponsor during the games.” Strabo Plinth told Coriolanus, a knowing look on his old, wrinkle-weary tan face.

“You're correct, Sir.” The platinum blonde nodded. Adjusting himself against his pillows and headboard, he added in, “She's the one I had you sponsor, ensuring her Victory by being sent that pocket knife.”

“Is she staying with you now?”

“Yes, we're living together.” Coriolanus nodded.

“She won't be as valuable for you to sell if she's used, Coriolanus.” Strabo remarked in a business-like tone.

“I'm not selling her, Sir. I'm keeping her for myself.”

“So, she's your new mistress.” Strabo surmised. He could see the appeal the girl had to his adopted heir. She was from District 12 and the Head Gamemaker had spent some time there in his youth…

“No, she’ll never be my mistress.” Coriolanus shook his head, causing Strabo to frown. “I'm going to marry her; make her my First Lady.” The ailing platinum blonde told the older man, only to bluntly ask, “Have you heard anything about the president's condition? His age and health’s been declining; the council must be close to declaring him incompetent.”

“I received a call this morning from my contacts, the president’s cabinet along with the ministry plans on declaring him incompetent and naming the Senate temporary rulers for Panem until a campaign season and election is held.”

“Sir, how soon will I be able to declare my intentions to run as the youngest President of Panem?”

“Within the next 3 days, but I do advise you to rethink your rash decision to marry that victor. She has nothing to offer you and your presidential campaign.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don't tell you what to do about your private affairs so I'd appreciate it if you showed me that same respect.” Coriolanus seethed, his voice ice cold and clipped, as he narrowed his eyes at Strabo Plinth.

The Plinths haven't been by since the day after Coryo poisoned himself while killing his wife, but they did slide a note under the door about the date and time of the funeral.

A note you just picked up after hearing the knock on the door while in the kitchen, making Coryo a glass of warm salt water to gargle with in order to help his mouth sore heal faster.

The sore was large, red, bloody, and inflamed. But, you knew that by gargling with warm salt water the sore wouldn't get infected; ooze puss, but would begin the healing process.

So, with a glass of salt water in one hand and a note in the other, you made your way to the master bedroom you share with Coryo. Your unofficial boyfriend.

“The Plinths just left a note under the front door.” You told him, announcing your presence; causing him to close his book and put it aside.

“Is that what's in your hand, darling?” Coryo asked, baby blues flittering towards the paper you're holding, as you made your way over to him.

‘Yea, it's the details for Livia's funeral. I thought you'd need to see it.” You explained, placing both the note and the glass of saltwater on the nightstand.

Before you could back away, the bedridden platinum blonde grabbed your wrist and sighed, “I know you're still upset with me for drinking that arsenic based poison, but please, just stay with me for a while. Keep me company, yea?”

“I've been keeping you company since you brought me here, Coryo. I'm just trying to let you get some rest so you can build up your strength.”

“I'm healing up just fine, Y/N; you're taking such good care of me, but I would like to spend more time with you then during meals and check-ins on my condition.”

“Coryo, you need your rest.” You told him, only to remind the light curly haired blonde what happened the last time you spent time with him. “Plus last time I was in bed with you, you tried to get me to mess around with you.” Before the head gamemaker could utter a word, you finished your thoughts with, “You're too weak for that right now. You’re on a broth diet and have a painful, bloody sore taking up your entire right cheek. Sexy times should be the least of your worries right now, horny goat.”

“Did you really just call me a horny goat, my darling rose?” Coriolanus incredulously asked, a brow raised in amusement. “I can't say I've ever been called that before.”

“Read your note and gargle with your salt water. I have to make your chicken broth.”

“Perhaps you could shred some of the poultry into my bowl when it's done?”

“No, Coriolanus. Your stomach's not ready for solids yet.”

“You're lucky I'm sick and in bed, otherwise I'd slap you for your bratty behavior.” Coriolanus darkly hissed, his icy eyes narrowed with promising madness.

You didn't say a word, just yanked your wrist out of his hold and left the bedroom.

You had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn when it came to loving (which you certainly weren't doing yet) and living with Coriolanus Snow.

The head gamemaker's bored to death in his sick bed. Coriolanus would much rather be in bed with you, stuffing you full of his cock until you cry from cumming multiple times. But, since you're so strict about his recovery, he’s stuck staring at the 4 walls of his bedroom, looking out the window, reading books, and mentally scheming up plans of presidential grandeur.

Tigris came over to check on him; to drop off your closing interview dress as well. Since you’re busy making broth, you told the stylist to just drop the dress bag in the master bedroom and to let Coriolanus know that you'd be bringing him something to eat soon.

Truth was you’re also busy avoiding having to deal with Coryo. Man’s worse than a baby while sick in bed.

And for some reason he's always-

ALWAYS

-horny.

Doesn't matter that he's still weak from poisoning himself. He wants you and isn't shy about letting you know it.

You know once he's healed you're in for it. The thought excites you, even tho you'd never admit it out loud. Hell, you won't even silently admit it to yourself. But maybe that's because Ashlie, your brother's girlfriend, told you that such things shouldn't be addressed or dwelled upon.

Oh boy, were you in for a rude awakening whenever Coryo gets better and has his way with you.

But you won't mind; in fact you'll welcome it.

You were finishing up brewing the broth for your man while his cousin, the famed stylist, visited with him in your shared bedroom.

“You can't have her sit with you at Livia's funeral, Coriolanus.” Tigris told her cousin, staring at him as he sipped some green tea (that you’re making him drink instead of his preferred Earl Grey due to the healing properties it had) while in bed, propped up against some pillows, against the headboard. Waiting for you to bring him some broth and a new book to read.

“Why not? She's mine.” Coryo asked, blood from his large and painful mouth sore had seeped into his tea. Staining the rim of the teacup crimson; making his cousin feel uneasy as she stuffed your interview dress, which Coriolanus deemed your funeral dress, back into the garment bag after showing it off.

“Your wife just died, Coriolanus. You can't be presenting her on your arm for your elite to bid on her while at a funeral.” Tigris told the atinum blonde, hoping that her words would knock some sense into him.

He just couldn't parade you around a funeral, tempting the rich for the biddings. It wasn't right. In fact it was disgusting. At least he could wait until the gala after the crowning ceremony to debut you for bidding.

Even the thought of him doing that disgusted the fashion designer.

“That is not what I'll be doing, Tigris!” Coriolanus angrily shouted, feeling his mouth sore burn and seep blood. Slamming his teacup on his bedside table, causing some of the rich, green liquid to slosh over the crimson stained rim, he barked, “I've told you, I'm making Y/N my wife. She will never ever be touched by anyone, but me.”

“Yes, well, at least with you laid up in bed from food poisoning she gets a break from you touching her.” Tigris said, feeling relief for your plight. She felt sorry for you on so many levels. She wished she could do more to help you, but all she could do was design your commissioned dresses and offer you a gentle soul for friendship during your tough time.

Coriolanus narrowed his baby blues at his cousin, the kind hearted woman who raised him to be good even though he decided to become evil. “What the hell is your problem, cousin? I've done so much for you and you treat me like shit.”

The stylist debated whether or not she should tell Coriolanus what her problem with him was. On one hand, she didn't want to upset him, but on the other hand she knew that she couldn't keep her feelings to herself for much longer. Deciding to just tell him the truth, Tigris tilted her black and blonde stripe-haired head at her cousin, only to say, “Your time as a peacekeeper in 12 changed you, Coriolanus. Something inside of you snapped and you became cold, cruel, and evil just like your father.”

Coriolanus’ eyes burned with a cold-blooded rage at Tigris’ words. He was insulted that she called his father, the great General Crassus Snow evil, let alone himself that.

Tigris’ shoulders shook with sorrowful anger while revealing her true feelings of, “I do appreciate you for giving me the opportunity to become a well known designer, but I despise you for making me a stylist for the games. For pimping out those Victor's all so you can gain money that you don't even need, Coriolanus.”

“Yes, well, you always were too sweet and tender-hearted for your own good.” Coriolanus scoffed, rolling his eyes in a dramatic show that he felt his cousin was too soft. Too weak. Too naive. Too ethical and moral for the dark world they lived in. “Now, if you're done trying to guilt trip me- which won't work because I'm completely fine with being the villain in your story- could you go back to your boutique and design Y/N a proper interview dress.”

“What's wrong with the one I just hung up for her?”

“Tigris, cousin, I already told you that dress is perfect for her to wear to Livia's funeral since it's black with pearl accents and a matching, large floppy hat.”

“You're going to make a fool out of yourself with her on your arm at your wife’s funeral, Coriolanus.” Tigris huffed warningly as the sound of the phone ringing echoed down the hall and into the master bedroom.

“No, I won't.” Coriolanus snapped. “Oh, Tigris, I'd like for my darling rose to have white rose accents on her interview dress.” Coriolanus said, reaching for his discarded teacup. “Do you think you can handle that, cousin?”

Before Tigris could say yes, you came rushing down the hall while calling out, “Coryo! Somebody from the presidential cabinet’s on the phone for you!”

“Well, as lovely as our little chat’s been cousin, we both have duties to attend to.” Coriolanus told Tigris, his tone very curt and formal, as he placed his teacup on the table and stood up.

Tigris nodded solemnly, only to turn around and go over to the door. Right as you entered the room, she exited. “Please, let me know if he hurts you. If you need any help.” She whispered softly in your ear, brushing her shoulder against yours in a show of running into you (to cover up her whispers from her eagle eyed cousin).

You didn't say a word, just gave her a polite smile before making your way over to Coryo, who was rummaging thru his dresser drawer.

“What're you looking for?” You curiously asked, stopping by the blonde man's side.

“My damn pajamas that I never wear.” He told you. Gesturing to the closet with a flick of his wrist, he ordered, “My blue dressing gown’s in there, please get it for me.”

“You have a housecoat?” You asked, holding back a giggle.

“It’s not a housecoat, it's a dressing gown, Y/N.” Coriolanus harshly snapped as he found the pair of navy blue silk pajamas he was looking for. Quickly, he tossed on the shirt, not even bothering to unbutton it, while berating you with, “You're not in the districts anymore, so please, refrain from talking like it.”

“You might take the girl out of the districts, but you can't take the districts out of the girl.” You scoffed, grabbing his precious baby blue dressing gown aka housecoat as he quickly pulled on his matching navy blue pajama pants.

Coryo might be recovering from his stint with the poison, but his backhand was still strong. You staggered, and would've fallen on your ass if it wasn't for him grabbing your arm to keep you upright. Snatching the dressing gown from you, he snapped out the order of, “Don't you ever sass back again to me, Y/N.” Letting his grip on you go, he hastily put on his dressing gown while remarking, “You know I don't tolerate brats; I'll beat you into submission if I have to, my darling rose.”

You just let out a huff and shook your head incredulously. If he thought that he was going to just smack you around every time he thought you were bratty then he had another thing coming. You'd tell him too, after he's done with his phone call.

“I'll tell them you'll be there in a minute, Coriolanus.” You told him, disdain dripping from your tongue as you spat out his name, before storming out of the room and down the hall.

Coriolanus looked like shit as he sat down at the mahogany desk in his study. He looked drained with dark purple bags under his eyes. His platinum blonde curls were messily sticking up every which way and he had blood staining the corner of his lip since his mouth sore was open and large.

He picked up the phone and pressed the button to transfer the video call from the living room to his study. When the caller appeared on his screen, he was met with the head of the War Council, General Prometheus Byzantine- who was also a member of President Ravinstill’s cabinet since he was the head of the War Council.

A position that Coriolanus felt that he deserved after killing Dr. Gaul a decade ago, since after all he was her assistant.

But no….

President Ravinstill felt that he was too young to be in charge of the War Council and named General Byzantine to the position while anointing Coriolanus Head Gamemaker and giving him a punny seat on the war council.

Oh, how he hated that general.

He thought about offing him, but decided against it since another military great would just replace him. Instead, Coriolanus decided to climb the political social ladder and make allies (allies was a loose term) with anyone that could boost his election potential.

And once he became a senator, well, he knew that he had the perfect political background to successfully run for president. Which is why he started to slowly poison President Ravinstill during meetings about the games. The man was old, so it'd just look like natural causes took him. An illness of sorts.

It was perfect, his plan.

And it worked, since he was getting a call about the president being made unfit to rule the country.

“Good day, General Byzantine, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Coriolanus politely asked the man who had stolen his rightful spot running the war council.

The man he assumes will be his biggest threat and political rival while running for President of Panem.

“Good Day, Head Gamemaker Snow.” The general responded. “I’ve called to inform you that the cabinet’s met with the ministry and we’ll be announcing later tonight that the president is unwell and unable to enact his duties to the country.”

“So, the Senate’s in charge for the time being.” Coriolanus concluded, subconsciously tonguing the sore in his cheek since it stinging and hurting.

“Yes.” General Byzantine nodded, only to go into a lengthy explanation of, “There has to be a preliminary between those intending to run in order to see who the top 2 contenders are; then there has to be a campaign season and an election. All of which must be scheduled with enough time for tours, campaign speeches, debates, and related functions.”

“So, it'll take at least a year?” The platinum blonde, who looked like the pale horse of death itself, asked the former war hero- who he despised.

“Typically elections are held in November, but only the preliminary can be held this November.” General Byzantine told Coriolanus, who had already figured out in his head what he just heard.

“So, over a year then.”

General Byzantine nodded, before changing the subject with the remark of, “I saw that the new victor answered your phone. She keeping your dick wet as you cry over dearly departed Livia?” A sinister smirk formed on the general’s tan face as he darkly remarked, “When you're done stretching open her tight holes, I’ll pay your high price for her. Hell, I'll pay double what you want to charge for that pretty little district whore.” Tipping his head back, General Prometheus Byzantine chuckled, “She’s too beautiful to be district scum; has the looks of a Capitol whore tho.”

Hearing General Byzantine insult you and confess that he wanted you as his personal Capitol whore had Coriolanus' blood boiling. He was seething, seeing red like a raging bull. How dare that bastard want you.

Wasn't it bad enough that he stole his rightfully inherited position as Head of the War Council from him? Now he wanted to make you his personal whore. And wanted Coriolanus to break you in for him too. Oh, how dare he.

HOW DARE HE!

HOW.

DARE.

HE.

Coriolanus stared the general down, his icy eyes hard as stone. His baritone dripped with a firm possessiveness as he said, “My darling rose isn't for sale, General Byzantine. She is mine and I don't share what's mine.”

“Oh, Coriolanus, I'm sure you'll get tired of your little victor turned mistress once the novelty’s worn off.” The general said in a know-it-all type chuckle. “Call me when that happens and we'll talk about pricing. I have to call up some other senators about President Ravinstill, but have a nice day.” General Byzantine told Coriolanus before hanging up on him.

You heard a loud crash coming from Coryo's study. Even tho you were mad at him for slapping you (again), you were worried about him. He was still weak, had at least another 4 days until he's healed up enough to put your mind at ease, and you were concerned that he fell down.

Without a second thought, you turned off the stove and rushed to his study. When you stepped (more like ran) inside you were met with Coryo hunched over his desk, that was cleared of everything that had been on it. All kinds of things including the small desk sized video phone were scattered on the floor.

You quickly realized the crashing you heard was the platinum blonde sweeping everything off his desk in a flash of anger. What got him so upset? His call couldn't have been that bad, could it?

“Coryo, you need to calm down and rest.” You told him, appearing at his side and helping him back into his large, leather desk chair.

“I can't just calm down, my darling rose.” Coriolanus snapped, his tone full of aggravation and cold hard hate. You arched a curious brow at his remark, only for him to grab you by the waist and pull you onto his lap. “General Byzantine wants to take you away from me and I can't have that, baby. I can't lose you, you're mine and belong to me.” He ranted as you placed your hands on his shoulders while straddling his lap.

Holy hell…seems like his call with a member of President Ravinstill’s cabinet wasn't all professional. Coryo's remark made you wonder what happened, so you asked him, “I thought we belonged to each other, Coryo. Why would some general want to take me away from you?”

“Because he's lusting after what's mine, Y/N.” Coryo told you, his large callused hands holding you close to him. Anchoring you, preventing you from moving away. “He stole the position of Head of the War Council from me when my predecessor, Dr. Gaul died. I was her assistant and should've been given both her Head Gamemaker position and her position as the Head of the War Council, but General Prometheus Byzantine convinced President Ravinstill that I wasn't experienced enough for the position; had himself placed in it instead and had me given a seat on the council as a junior member.”

You kept your face neutral and just nodded at him, urging him to continue with his rant. Maybe if he gets everything off his chest he'll be able to nap; leave you alone for a bit.

If you're left alone, maybe you'll be able to use the phone to make a quick call to the mines to speak with Rein. Or maybe to the Hob to see if Ashlie’s there. You missed your family- terribly, and didn't want them worrying too much about you since your timeline of post-game events was different then other victors.

Usually, a victor already did their exit interview and had their crowning and victory ball at the presidential palace by now, but given how Coryo was suffering from adverse effects of an arsenic based poisoning, all of your events have been postponed. Coryo said that he'd arrange for your events once he was better

But you knew that your family must be worried sick about you. They expected to see you by now, if not in person then on tv. And after you collapsed out after winning your games, well, you know that Rein and Ashlie must be worried sick about you.

Coryo’s long fingers dug into your hips. His icy blue eyes were raging with a fiery anger as he spat out, “That bastard told me, very crudely, that he wants you once I'm done with you. That he'll pay for you; make you his whore.”

Your eyes widened in horror at his blunt words. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Coriolanus claimed that you belonged to him; that he wanted you by his side.

“Coryo, you wouldn't whore me out to some old general to, I dunno, get on his good side? Would you?”

Horror crossed over the platinum blonde man’s features. How could you think that he'd do such a thing? You were his obsession, his possession, his Victor, his darling rose, his baby, his girl.

You're his girl.

And only his girl.

Coryo cupped your cheek, the one he kept slapping and bruising, only to lean his forehead against yours, “Y/N, my darling rose, you're my girl. You belong to me and I don't share what's mine with anybody.” His breath was hot against your skin; the smell of blood wafted into your nose- the metallic, tangy scent should've curdled your stomach, but it didn't.

Perhaps your time in the games had changed your sense of smell when it came to blood, considering you smelt so much of it for nearly a week.

Coryo's baritone sounded out into the air with the promise of, “We belong to each other, Y/N. You're my girl and I'm going to marry you before fall comes. I promise, you'll be mine and only mine.”

“You're going to make me permanently yours by marrying me; making me your wife?” You asked for clarity, because if his answer was yes then you had one condition to the marriage he was forcing you into.

“Yes.” Coriolanus told you, his baby blues full of nothing, but honesty. Which, for him, was a rare feat in itself. “I’m going to marry you right away, after filing the K-1 Visa paperwork, and I'm going to make you my First Lady.”

Now it was your turn to look at him wide-eyed. “Make me your First Lady…” You let out in disbelief. “You're going to run for president, since President Ravinstill's old and frail; might be incompetent.” You told Coryo, even though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Yes, I'm going to become President Snow and you're going to be First Lady Snow.” Coryo told you with such strong conviction. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, only to tell you, “General Prometheus Byzantine is not only my political rival, but he's a danger to you, my darling.” Locking his eyes with yours, he revealed, “Smiley hasn't gotten back to me yet, so I don't know if your apothecary book's been sent out to us, but when we get that book I need you to make me a poison to give to the general.”

“Coryo…” You sighed, the weight of his words hitting you straight in the chest like a ton of bricks. Yes, you did tell him you'd make him plant based poisons with safe antidotes to take beforehand, but you weren't expecting him to cash in on that offer so soon.

“I have to poison him, Y/N.” He told you, his voice firm, but velvety smooth. He pulled you in close to him, making you lean your head against his chest, as he declared, “It's the only way to ensure that you're safe; that I make it to the presidential palace, baby.” Carding his hands thru your hair, he sighed, “He's too dangerous to the both of us kept alive too long. He's got too much power; could very well beat me in a preliminary poll if I don't get rid of him now.” Coriolanus' voice shook with a deep rooted bitterness as he spat, “I won't give him the chance to overpower me; take you away. I promised to keep you safe and I'm going to do that by getting rid of him.”

“I knew I'd have to kill for my survival in the arena, during the Hunger Games, but I thought I'd be done with killing for my survival once the games were over.” You honestly admitted into his chest.

Coryo ran a hand up and down your back while telling you, “All of Panem's an arena and life's nothing, but one big Hunger Games. There's two types of people in this world, the weak who don't survive and the strong who’ll do anything to survive; who are the victors.” Looking down at you, he said, “You and I, my darling rose, are victors.” His head dipped low, so that his lips were ghosting over yours, as he told you, “Snow lands on top and you, my dear, are now considered a Snow.”

Your hand strokes his cheek, as you firmly tell him, “If I'm to be your wife; your First Lady Snow, then you'll stop smacking me in the face to teach me manners.” Before he could protest, you barrelled on with, “I refuse to end up like so many of the girls do in 12, beaten and broken by a man. I won't just sit around and let you slap me around every single day.” A dead serious look flashed in your eyes as you told him, “If you ever and I mean ever lay hands on me again then you better hire a taste tester because I will put something in your drink.”

Coriolanus smirked at your words. You truly were a victor. Only a victor would have the nerve to threaten him. Only a woman worthy of the Snow name could level with him. Give him an ultimatum.

Yes, your demand intrigued him because it meant that you agreed to marry him although you had one condition.

And that one condition he would grant you.

But only you, because if any other woman in Panem said those words you said to him, well, they'd be dead before dusk.

But you were different. You were his Victor, his survivor, his other half that he'd polish and shine up to be presentable on his arm in front of the Capitol citizens.

“I won't hit you out of anger again. You have my word, Y/N.” Coryo promised you. “But you must promise me to act more like a capitolite. We need to have a pure and pristine image while I'm running for president.”

“When do you plan on announcing your presidential campaign?” You curiously asked. You secretly hoped that it wouldn't be too soon. You just wanted to figure out how to navigate your new life in peace without the media chasing you down because you're with the game maker turned politician.

“The answer to that, my darling, will be revealed all in good time.” Coryo told you before nipping at your neck.

Trying to wiggle free from his grasp, you reminded him, “Coryo, you're still recovering.”

“You're such a strict nurse, not letting me have what I want even tho I'm feeling better.”

“Stop trying to fool me, Coryo. I know you've still got a few more days to go before you're in tip top shape.”

“The day you declare me with a clean bill of health’s the day I’m going to fuck you so hard into our mattress that you won't be walking right for a week.” Coriolanus told you, his tone blunt and full of the promise of things to come.

Things that you're not sure you're ready for. Things that you know will happen with him, since he's so determined. Things that you know you'll let happen because, deep down, you find him to be the most beautiful man you've seen in you're entire life and you want him too. You want him even tho you know you shouldn't.

You're the victor of the First Quarter Quell and he's the Head Gamemaker that has large aspirations of becoming the President of Panem. It's a match made in hell at best.

But your man's a serpent and you’re losing yourself to him; will eat the forbidden fruit that he offers you.

You'll be his partner in crime; his other half in his poisonous schemes.

But you don't know that yet. All you k ow right now is that he needs you to help him kill to keep both of you safe, he craved political power, is determined to make an honest woman out of you after murdering his first wife, and he wants to fuck you til hw blows out your back.

And whoever said that life would go back to normal after winning the games was full of shit.

Because nothing about your life’s normal right now.

But normalcy is overrated, isn't it?

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

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wingedhallows · 2 months

Text

choose your next words very carefully; sirius black

pairing: sirius black x reader | 0.5k words plot: severus can't keep his mouth shut and sirius is quick to jump into defence. authors note: i haven't posted in almost two weeks, it's just a little something i had in my drafts, so here u go :)

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You couldn’t believe how the mood shifted when Sirius and You joined the meeting. Harry had embraced both of you in hugs, kisses and hair ruffles from your side and compliments from Sirius. You loved the boy to the moon and back.

“Here you go!” Molly smiled at you as a cup of firewhiskey found its way into your hand, the liquid was much needed considering you would see people you would rather avoid.

“So, Y/N.” Albus started, your hand was on Sirius’ shoulder while he was sitting next to Harry.

“Any news from inside?” Albus was referring to the Ministry. You’ve been an Auror since Harry was born and you had a quite helpful intel on what was going on inside the walls.

“No, Fudge is as paranoid as ever, Crouch is running around like a chick without its head.” You took a sip.

“Same old, considering they’re on my back because of my husband.” Albus nodded, a hand at his chin, thinking.

“There must be something else.” Severus threw in, hands on the table. Sirius’ hand found yours, his head cocked in a daring manner.

“Considering you’re so far up Fudge’s arse-”Severus-” Albus threw in but Sirius had jumped to his feet, wand extended in Snapes direction.

“I advise you to choose your next words very carefully, Snivellus.”

You watched him, the way his hand shivered with anger, his jaw slacked to restrain himself. His long hair almost covered his face and suddenly you saw him, the old Sirius, the Sirius who had fought Severus and his friends with a smile on his face.

The Sirius who planned pranks with James, Remus and Peter all those years ago. You saw the light, the fire which still burned inside of him.

“Sirius, calm down.” Minerva threw in, hand raised to push his wand down. Your hand found his shoulder again and he retreated his wand, his jaw relaxed again.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife in that manner again, you dirty old toerag.” He barked as he sat down again.

“Being well informed doesn’t mean I’m up anyone’s arse, but, Severus, you should know yourself what it’s like to be up someone’s arse, right?”

You paused to cock your head in a daring manner.

“Considering you’ve buttered up Voldemort quite well over all these years.”

Harry had to hide his laugh and you raised your glass in Severus' direction.

“Cheers to that, toerag.” You laughed and took the cigarette from the ashtray where Sirius had left it. His hand found yours and you bent down to kiss his cheek.

“Cunt.” Sirius muttered as he turned his head to place a kiss on your mouth. A smile spread on your lips.

“Well, I believe that’s settled then.” Albus sighed as he shook his head. Tired of being surrounded by adult children.

#harrypotter #hp fanfic #marauders imagine #the marauders #marauders era #harry potter fanfic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #severus snape #minerva mcgonagall

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aanoia · 4 months

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I Don't Know Who You're Talking About

Remus Lupin x reader words; 2817 warnings; angst, blood, sad, murder, the usual part two this is so cutesy (NOT!) I wrote this on my phone in the car so if there's any mistakes thats my excuse. Also Y/m/n stands for your/marauders/nickname because ofc you're a Marauder and of course you're an animagus. like duh.

“Remus, it's a full moon tonight, you can't go. We can't risk that.” I persisted, staring holes into the back of the boy's head.

He turned around angrily, “Why does it even matter, Y/n?” He yelled, and a drop of spit flew from his lips. “After everything that's happened, you're gonna stop me from going to that traitors trial?”

“If you're gonna act like this, yes! I am going to stop you.” I yelled back, taking a step towards him as my voice softened. “And we don't know if Sirius was framed or not, he's our best friend. Do you really think he'd do something like this?”

Remus shook his head, his shoulders dropping, “I think it doesn't matter, because James and Lily are dead. And Peter! Someone needs to be punished for it, and all the signs point to him.”

I frowned, “I don't think he did it.”

“Well, you think wrong.” Remus said, turning back around and walking out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Remus, I swear to Merlin, if you apparate to the Ministry-” I was cut off by the loud cracking noise of apparition. He didn't even grab his coat.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I said coolly as I sat next to Remus. He shook his head, anger radiating from his skin.

“You're ridiculous.” He muttered and I scoffed.

“There's no way you're taking your frustration out on me, right now.” I flashed a smile at a woman I recognized from Hogwarts, she smiled back sadly. I focused in on the middle of the room, where an empty cage was being rolled out.

“I can't even talk to you. You’re so annoying.” Remus stood up but was stopped as a new cage was rolled in. I gently pulled him back down as we stared at Sirius. He was caged and muzzled like a dog.

Remus squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. Sirius’ clothes were torn, his usual fancy jacket he stole from his mother covered in dirt and blood. He looked around the room frantically, eyes wide and tears streaming down his cheeks. He made eye contact with me and placed his hands on the bars, silently begging me to believe that he didn't do this, he could never.

I gave him a look of worry as the Minister cleared his throat, “Sirius Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black, you are here today under the accusation of working with He Who Must Not Be Named and the murder of twelve muggles, one witch, Lily Potter, and two wizards, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. How do you plead?”

The moment the muzzle was off his mouth he answered hastily. “Not guilty!” Sirius screamed, his voice shaky and broken. He shook in his cage, “I didn't do it, please! I would never hurt my frie-”

“Silence!” Crouch demanded, holding his hand up, his ring glinted in the candlelight. “We need not hear more.” He scribbled on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy standing next to him. The boy studied the paper.

He nodded, “Of course, sir.” He left the room quickly.

There were quiet whispers floating around the room, speculating what the young boy could possibly be searching for.

“Now, because there seems to be a lack of witnesses, which I am sure is just how you wanted it to be, unfortunately we cannot blindly believe that you are innocent.” The boy came back into the room, holding a small vial of clear liquid.

“Veritaserum.” Remus mumbled and I nodded.

“It's a good idea.” I whispered.

The vial was brought up to Sirius’ lips, who drank it willingly, thankful to finally have a good alibi.

“I will ask you plain and simply, did you reveal the hidden location of James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord, resulting in them being murdered and their son orphaned?”

Sirius shook his head, “I did not.” My shoulders relaxed as it felt as if a weight had been lifted. Remus still looked at him coldly, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Did you murder that group of muggles, and your own friend, Peter Pettigrew, leaving behind only his finger?”

“No, I did not.”

The room was silent as Crouch thought. They glanced between the man behind bars and the one upon a podium, his stare belittling. He glanced at the empty bottle on his desk, and back to Sirius before whispering to a man beside him.

I glanced at Sirius who was already looking at us. He gave me a small smile and I returned it.

“It is probable.” The man said quietly, but still in earshot.

Crouch nodded and banged his hammer, “It has been decided. The Veritaserum that was given to was a flake. So, under Mr. Barty Crouch, Minister of Magic, you plead guilty, and are sentenced to life in Azkaban.”

Some people cheered, others let out yells of protest. Remus slipped away, walking out of the room angrily.

“No, that's rubbish.” I yelled as he began to be rolled away. He screamed in fear, going crazy inside of the cage.

I stood up and pushed past people, carefully jumping down to the floor and below the Minister. The room silenced again and the cage stopped dragging across the floor. Everyone had their eyes on me.

“Let me talk to him.”

Crouch looked amused, “Miss-”

“It is only a custom. Tradition, even. You must allow me a word with Sirius Black before you send him off. It's in the books.”

Crouch glanced at the book as the boy flipped to the pages. He sighed as he read the words, telling him that it was indeed allowed for loved ones to speak with the person before they are sent off.

“I'm afraid he cannot be out of his cage, it is not up for discu-”

“I can talk through the bars, can I not?”

“Fine. Follow them.”

I followed them out quietly, ignoring the angry stares I got from people, even the spit that they shot at me, landing right in front of my feet. Once we were in the hall, the men stood to the side and I walked up the cage hastily, putting my hands on the bars.

“Sirius, I'm going to ask you this once, and only once, and I need you to tell me the truth. Whatever you say, I will believe you. Did you or did you not kill James and Lily?”

Sirius looked me straight in the eyes, desperate, “Y/n, please, I would never.”

“It's a yes or no question.”

“No. I didn't.”

I paused, before grabbing his hand through the bars, “I believe you. It's okay, I'll figure this out.”

His eyes filled with tears again and being this close I could see the heavy bags below his eyes. His hair was a ratty mess and his skin was blemished and dirty.

“Did you know she was pregnant?” Sirius asked and my eyes widened.

“She was?”

“Yeah. They were going to tell us all on Christmas, but James let it slip to me.”

I took a deep breath, “Oh my.”

There was a moment of silence between us, neither daring to break the quiet atmosphere.

“Does Remus hate me?” He whispered and my heart broke.

“I don't know.” I answered honestly and he nodded, his eyes averting to the bottom of the cage.

“I didn't kill them. I'd never. He was my best friend, my brother.” Sirius began sobbing. “I've already lost him, and Lily. I've lost my godson. And now Remus. I can’t lose you, Y/n/n, I can’t.” he cut himself off with a gasp.

“It's time to go.” One of the men said, beginning to drag him away.

“I can’t lose you!” Sirius yelled as he was dragged away.

“You won’t.” I whispered before I looked up at the man as he was dragged away, “Sirius! I love you!”

He smiled sadly, “I love you too, Y/m/n!”

I rubbed my hands together quickly as I walked up to the front door. I placed my hand on the freezing knob and opened it, silently cursing myself for not locking it before I left.

It was half an hour until sundown, so I immediately apparated home to help prepare Remus - and myself - for the night. It was probably going to be one of the hardest he's ever experienced, and I felt terrible for him.

“Remus?” I called out, only to get no response. I furrowed my brows taking my jacket off slowly, “Baby, I know you're mad but I still want to help you tonight.” Still, nothing.

I set down my bag and slipped off my shoes before quietly walking to the bedroom.

“Rem?” I asked softly, pushing open the door and expecting to see him sitting on the bed, head between his hands as he cried softly.

But he wasn't. In fact the room seemed to be the same as it was before I left. The bathroom was dark and empty. No sign of Remus anywhere.

I walked to the kitchen, hoping to find him sipping from a mug of tea while staring out the window, like he usually is. But there was nothing.

I slipped on my coat and threw on my shoes, ignoring my bag as I quickly left the house. I pulled out the flip phone Remus had insisted on us getting.

“For easier communication.” He’d say.

I struggled to work the muggle device, but managed to send a quick ‘where r u?!’ text. At this point, the sun was beginning its descent and the full moon shone brightly.

I paused for a moment, thinking of any possible place he could be.

“The Shrieking Shack.” I said quietly to myself, immediately apparating to the raggedy house.

However, just like our own, it was also completely empty, save for one man.

“Professor Dumbledore?” I asked quietly. The older man turned around and smiled gently. I didn't fail to notice the tears he wiped from his cheeks.

“Ah, Miss L/n, or is it Lupin, yet?” Dumdledore asked.

I shook my head, “Not yet, no. But speaking of the man, has he been here?”

Dumbledore looked around, “No, I'm afraid not.” He glanced out of the window, at the light in the darkening sky. “It is a full moon tonight, isn't it?”

I stood beside him with a sigh, “That it is.”

“And the night of Sirius’ trial as well, what unfortunate timing.”

“I'd have to agree.”

“You cannot find him?”

I turned around and leaned against the window sill, “No. We were fighting, before the trial. It's been rough for everyone and we took it out on each other.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Ah, it happens. I suppose, however, you should spend less time with this old man, and more time finding who I would assume to be a werewolf by now.”

I opened my mouth to answer but was cut off by a loud howl. The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, and the werewolves were born.

“Well, it seems you'd be correct.”

“Was that him?” Dumbledore asked.

I shook my head, “No, his howl is deeper. I assume that was a female.”

“Ah.”

I shifted my feet, feeling awkward. “Uhm, I'm gonna go look for him.”

“Take a blanket.” Dumdledore said, handing me a brown bundle of cloth.

“Thank you.”

“Go.”

I nodded and pushed open the door. I sighed at the heavy snowfall, looking into the distant trees. It was going to be a long night.

The tears started as the sun made an appearance again. The weight of everything finally hitting and pressure built behind my eyes.

“Remus, please, where are you?” I called out, my voice hoarse and salty tears slipped into my mouth. I wiped the running snot from my upper lip, my shoulders shaking.

I passed a tree and the bright color of red caught my eye. A blood trail. I followed it eagerly, a small sob leaving my lips and I clutched tightly onto the blanket. It led behind a rock, where my heart broke.

Remus lay there, naked and in a fetal position. He had long cuts all along his body and the snow around him was trained red. He shivered in the snow and his lips were blue.

He glanced at me weakly, sadness filling his eyes. “Y/n.” He whispered, his voice almost non existent.

I snapped out my daze and grabbed onto him, quickly pulling him to his feet and wrapping the blanket around him. He clutched onto me and cried, I cried with him.

I apparated to the house silently and he fell to his knees, I followed him, holding him in the kneeling position.

“It’s okay.” I whispered, biting back my own tears as he sobbed. “It’s okay.”

He cried, “It’s not!”

“Remus, let me clean you.” I said softly, wiping my tears after a few long moments.

“Okay.” He whispered, staring ahead blankly.

It was quiet, again, as I cleaned and bandaged. A few times he'd cry again, and I'd let him, figuring it was better to continue what I'm doing. I led him to bed and closed the curtains so the sun didn't shine through.

“Do you feel better?” I asked quietly once I got into bed.

“I'm not sure I feel much of anything, right now.” Remus said, facing his back towards me.

I looked at him sadly and turned over, closing my eyes and finally letting sleep overtake me.

When I woke up the bed was empty. I sighed, assuming he was in the kitchen or living room. I used the bathroom and walked out of the bedroom. I walked out into the living room.

“Remus?” I asked. He wasn't there. I looked into the kitchen and he wasn't to be seen. The deja vu of the night before was prominent. “Are you serious?”

A note sat neatly on the fridge. I glanced at the magnet, it was a picture of Remus and I smiling wide, faces pressed against each other. We got it from a muggle - or no-maj - vendor when we visited america. I noticed the second one we had was gone. I shook my head and took the note from beneath the magnet.

I immediately recognized the handwriting as Remus’. I stared at the letter, the one assigned to me. The last letter of my name was splotchy, stained with a tear.

I gently tore open the letter.

Dear Y/n,

I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I'm so sorry for what I'm doing.

I am so scared. With James, Lily, and Peter dead, and Sirius in Azkaban, I just don't know what to do.

You mean the world to me. You're perfect, beautiful, intelligent, witty, talented, you're everything good and nothing bad. At this point you are the world for me.

Which is why I have to do this. I can't drag you down to darkness with me, I'd never forgive myself. I know this will hurt you, it's hurting me too, but I also know you can get through this.

I want you to be happy, and I think that's impossible if I’m in your life. So I'm taking the liberty to leave it. My stuff will be magically transported once I find a place to stay, keep the house, you deserve it more than I do.

I love you more than life itself.

with the deepest of regrets,

Remus

P.S. you are worth EVERYTHING! don't ever settle for the bare minimum.

I dropped the letter and stared out of the window. The snow fell gently, piling up on the ground. It felt rather similar to the quiet tears dripping down my face. In the span of four weeks, I had lost everyone important to me. I didn't realize I had any tears left to cry.

I suppose I'll have to get a dog to keep me company now.

“Welcome, Professor L/n.” Dumbledore greeted.

I smiled at the group of teachers that came to welcome me. “Thank you, I appreciate all of you. Especially you, Minnie.” I said with a wink and Professor McGonagall laughed wetly, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

“Okay okay, let's not suffocate her on her first day. Dinner is in an hour, I trust you to find your room.” Dumbledore said and I nodded as the teachers dispersed.

“Severus.” I called out and the man stopped in his tracks. I walked over as he turned around and pulled him into a tight hug. He looked at me weirdly once I pulled away. “I know you loved her too.”

He knew exactly who I was talking about, “I have no idea who you're talking about.”

“I know you don't.” I smiled and began walking towards my room.

“I’m sorry about Lupin.” He said and I paused.

“I have no idea who you're talking about.”

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suugarbabe · 10 months

Text

Saint-Like

Here we are my darlings, the long awaited George one shot based off of this ask.

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word Count: 3k (told ya it'd be a bit long)

Warning: mention of blood, angst, kissing

Professor Moody stalked about the living room giving a speech that did not make anyone feel any less uneasy about what was about to transpire. “Potter, you’re underage, which means you still have the trace on you.” Harry looked up confused, “What’s the trace?” Moody placed both hands on his walking stick for support, “It means that if ya sneeze the ministry is goin’ to know who wiped yer nose. The point is we have to use those means of transport that the trace can’t detect, brooms, thestrals, the like. We go in pairs. That way if there’s anyone out there waiting for us, and I reckon there will be, they won’t know which Harry Potter is the real one.”

Harry looked confused, “The real one?” Moody’s face turned up slightly, a grin forming as he grabbed his infamous flask from his jacket pocket. He stirred the flask with a swirl of his wrist, “I believe you’re familiar with this particular brew.” Harry immediately shook his head, “No, absolutely not.” Hermione rolled her eyes behind him, “Told you he’d take it well.” Harry continued, voice strained, “No, if you think I’m gonna let everyone risk their lives for me-” Ron cut him off abruptly with a sarcastic tone, “Never done that ‘ave we?” Harry turned to face his friend, “No! No, this is different! Taking that, becoming me? No.”

“Well none of us really fancy it, mate,” Fred piped up, smug grin across his face. “Yeah imagine something went wrong and we end up a screwy, specky git forever,” George teased, smiling alongside his twin. “Everyone is of age here, Potter,” Moody spoke up again, “They’ve all agreed to take the risk.” A short man in the back spoke up just then, “Technically, I’ve been coerced.” He turned to Harry, “Mundungus Fletcher, Mista Potta, always been a ‘uge admirer.”

“Nip it, Mundungus!” Moody scolded. The small man’s head went down, turning back to his spot in the back of the room and staying quiet. “Alright, Granger, as discussed,” Moody nodded toward the witch. Hermione walked past Harry, gripping a patch of hair at the back of his head and pulling harshly, pulling out several hairs. “Blimey, Hermione,” Harry rubbed the back of his head. Moody instructed Hermione to drop the hairs in the polyjuice potion in his flask. The potion began to bubble as Moody stirred it around with another twirl of his wrist.

“For those of you who are not familiar with the polyjuice potion, fair warning, taste like goblin piss,” Moody stated comfortingly as he handed the flask to Fred. Fred took the flask from him, “Have lots of experiences with that, do ya Mad-Eye?” Moody continued to stare at Fred, face blank and unchanging. Fred let out a sigh, “Just trying to diffuse the tension…” Those in the line all took a large swig, first Fred, then George, followed by Mundungus, Fluer, Ron and lastly Hermione. You stood next to Hermione and watched in amazement as the row of people all slowly started changing, skin bubbling to transform into Harry.

You watched your George shrink several inches and he transformed. His clothes became far too large for his frame. “Is this how you feel when you borrow a shirt from me, love?” he looked over at you, a smile on his - well Harry’s - face. You shook your head, cheeks becoming a shade darker than before, “You know it’s really hard to take you seriously when you look like that.” He shrugged as he started to get dressed in the same exact attire as Harry. The goal was simple, pairs would travel with a Harry look-a-like towards the Burrow. Mad-Eye said he anticipated an attack by death eaters and that the risk was high. You and George agreed to be involved immediately, no questions asked.

Once everyone was changed you all filed outside, you grabbed your broom. You hopped on, George floating next to you on a copy of Harry’s broom. Moody stood at the end of the drive, announcing it was time to leave. You both took off together, staying close by one another. As you got deeper into the clouds, it looked like a lightning storm. Moody went further ahead of the others. In an instant you were seemingly surrounded by black cloaks swishing by spells being thrown on either side of you. You turned to find George, you had to assume he was still the Harry closest to you.

You knew you were close to the Burrow. You looked over to check on George once more just in time to see a death eater point their want towards him. You panicked, not knowing the spell they would speak and instantly flicked your wand toward George, “Depulso!” George’s body slid farther away from you, narrowly missing the spell, or at least almost. You noticed his body go slightly limp, his broom altitude dropping quickly. You dove after him, grabbing him in your arms and speeding toward the barrier around the burrow.

As soon as you were through the barrier you headed to land, nearly crashing into the cornfields. He still looked like Harry as you fervently started checking his body for damage, “C’mon Georgie, wake up. You’re okay, right? You’re okay.” His head was bleeding, you turned it to the side, noticing his left ear nearly missing, “Oh, Georgie.” He turned his head back and forth, mumbling something. You put your ear next to his mouth and he mumbled again, “Y/n/n, yer…kneeling on my hand.” You jumped up, and he attempted to roll over to his side. Thankfully he was still mostly Harry, you threw one of his arms over your shoulder, your arm around his waist, doing your best to take hold of most of the weight.

You stumbled out of the cornfields, seeing a few of the others that made it before you two. Harry, the real Harry, was quick to come to the other side of George, helping you take him inside the Burrow. Molly turned from the sink as soon as she heard commotion, eyes glued on the now changing boy back into George. “Oh my boy,” Molly rushed over as you and Harry laid George on the family sofa. Remus walked in with another Harry that slowly turned into their normal self, challenging each one making sure they weren’t an imposter.

You ignored the background noise, focusing solely on the red head in front of you. You got a washing cloth from the kitchen, dowsing it in cool water to begin to clean his wound. As you approached the sofa again Molly snatched the rag from your hands, a glare upon her face as she pushed in front of you to tend to her son. Fred entered the Burrow, rushing to his twin’s side. It was silent for a long moment before Fred spoke, “How’re you feelin’ Georgie?” George’s eyes were still closed, taking slow deep breaths as he responded, “Saint-like.”

Fred shook his head, “Come again?” George smiled softly, “Saint-like. I’m holy. I’m holy, Fred. Ya get it?” He then pointed to his ear. Fred just shook his head again, smiling, “The whole wide world of ear related humor, and you go for ‘I’m holy’. It’s pathetic.” George winked at you before responding to his twin once more, “Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” You laughed softly at his ability to ease a room in even the most stressful of times. Molly turned at the sound of your laughter, glaring at you once more. You could understand her feeling protective, but you were unsure why she was taking her anger out at you.

You attempted once more to get closer to George now that he was talking to others more, but Molly was quick to step in front of you. “I think you’ve done enough for tonight dear,” Her voice was low but stern. You were sure confusion was written across your features, “What do you mean, Molly?” She gestured toward the other room, “Maybe it would be best if you kept your distance for the night.” Her face told you not to argue with her. While she was usually the soft and comforting one, she could instill fear when needed.

You took the hint and went into the other room, pacing back and forth. You kept playing with the rings on your fingers, one in particular George had gifted you last Christmas. You wished you could talk to him, it pained you being pushed away like this. Pained you so deeply you swear you could feel it on your side. Your right side. You placed your hand onto your torso, wincing as you touched just below your rib cage. You lifted your shirt slowly, peering down to see a deep gash. “Bloody hell, that’s not good,” with the realization of your wound you felt more light headed. You assumed the lack of adrenaline also played a part in this. You turned back towards the main living area, intentions of calling out for someone when everything started to fade around you.

—------------

George moved to sit up, laughing slightly at the several members of his family fawning over him. He looked around searching for the face of the one person who’s voice he hadn’t heard since he landed at the burrow. “Where’s Y/n?” George went to stand up, albeit a little shaky. “She’s just in the other room, I asked her to give you some space,” Molly rubbed his arm in comfort. He started walking towards the room, “Why would you do that mum?” He walked a little quicker towards the next room. He turned the corner to see you laying facedown on the floor.

George rushed over, shouting for someone, anyone to come and help him. He turned you over, noticing how slow and shallow your breathing had become. He did the same inspection you had done just an hour prior, checking your face, your neck, down your arms. He ran his hands down your sides, your body involuntarily twitching as he reached your wound. He lifted your shirt as Remus and his father came to kneel next to him. George gasped as he saw the deep gash on your side, the edges burned black clearly from a dark spell. “What do I- how do we fix her dad, you have to fix her…” George’s eyes brimmed with tears, pleading to his father. Kingsley came to join the older two men, encouraging George to stand back.

George stood there, tears streaming down his face as Remus, Arthur and Kingsly worked over your body. George was still recovering himself, swaying back and forth as his anxiety and blood pressure got higher. “C’mon, Georgie, let’s go sit you back down before you’re the next to pass out.” George reluctantly followed his twin. As soon as he was sat on the couch, Molly came rushing to his side again. George’s face was in his hands, making his words come out muffled, “Mum, please, I love you, but please give me some space right now.”

“Oh, darling, wha-why?” Molly stood up confused. George shook his head, “Mum you told her to go over there, to leave everyone else, to leave me. Why? Why did you do that? She was in there alone! Who knows how long she was passed out for!” George’s voice got higher and higher with each word. Molly took a step back in shock. “George, she- she was supposed to protect you. She was paired with you to keep you safe and look how you turned out, you could have died George!” He stood up instantly, face screwed in anger, “Well now she might die, mum.” And with that, he stomped up the stairs, two at a time until he reached his room.

—-----

What felt like hours later there was a knock on George’s door. He kept his face in his pillow, shouting back, “Go away.” He heard the door open regardless of his wishes. He remaining in his position even though he heard footsteps approaching him. He felt a dip in his bed before he heard your voice teasing him, “Don’t want to see me, is that it George? I heard I was all you could talk about.”

He turned over so quickly he nearly knocked you off the bed. He grabbed you onto his lap and embracing you tightly. You hissed slightly, causing him to pull your body away from his and he glanced down at your side, “Oh, y/n/n, I’m sorry, how’re you-how does it look?” You leaned back slightly, lifting your shirt to show him your waist wrapped in bandages, “Looks about as good as your head.” You touched the side of his face gently, fingers dancing over his damaged ear. His eyes closed at your touch. He relished in your presence, brain mulling over him almost losing you just hours earlier.

He hadn’t noticed himself become emotional until he felt your thumb wipe a tear off his cheek. “Why are you crying, Georgie?” Your voice was so soft, always a comfort to him. He shook his head, realizing how daft he’s been, “I’m just so stupid.” You laughed lightly, another mesmerizing sound to him, “What are you talking about?” He opened his eyes, though they were still downcast, “Y/n, I haven't been honest with you. Erm, honest with myself either, really.” He felt your fingers lift his chin, making him look into your eyes.

“You know you can tell me anything, no matter what you can tell me,” you wore a soft smile on your lips, doing your best to encourage him to continue. He just stared at you for a moment, taking in how gentle your eyes looked at him, the bit of dirt still on your cheek from earlier in the night, how soft your lips looked right now. George was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice you getting closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck now, still waiting for him to respond to you.

“It’s just…I…,” he trailed off, eyes shooting to your lips, back to your eyes and down again. You just nodded, closing the gap further, “I know, Georgie, me too.” And then it happened, your lips were on his and he was in heaven. One of his hands cupped your face as his other steadied on your hip, your lips slotting against one another fervently and with purpose. You felt his tongue glide against your bottom lip and granted him entrance without hesitation, allowing him to explore your mouth and deepen the kiss.

He attempted to pull you even closer, hands grabbing at your waist. You pulled back with a hiss, both forgetting about your injury. “Oh Merlin, I’m-” You shook your head, smiling, “It’s okay Georgie, I’m okay.” You cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb across his skin, “You scared me tonight. You can’t scare me like that, I thought I was gonna lose you.” He chuckled at this, “Yeah well I could say the same to you.” You shook your head, smiling at the red head, “You know I realized something tonight.” He looked at you curiously, “Oh? And what’s that.”

“I love you Georgie,” you bit your lip, waiting on how he would respond. He reached up, his thumb lightly pulling your lip from your teeth, “I love you too, Y/n, so much.” He leaned in to kiss you once more, your lips just barely grazing each other when you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway. You both turned to see Fred, leaning against the door frame with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“As adorable as that was to witness, there’s someone downstairs wanting to talk to you both,” Fred pushed himself off the frame, turning to leave. He grabbed ahold of the frame quickly, popping his head back into the room, “If I wasn’t clear, I was talking about mum.” You climbed off of George’s lap, allowing him to also stand up from the bed, “Thanks genius, didn’t quite get that one.”

You walked with George down the stairs, fingers intertwined while doing so. Molly’s eyes clocked the connection immediately, her face becoming more apologetic than before, if that were even possible. She met you both at the bottom of the steps, wrapping you in her embrace immediately, “Darling, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for how I acted, what I said to you, it was rubbish, truly.” She pulled back, tears brimming her eyes. You shook your head, “Molly, no. He’s your son. You just love him so much, I understand the feeling.”

You looked up at George who gave you a small smile and a wink in return. Molly, missing nothing, quickly wrapped her arms around both your necks, planting kisses on each of your cheeks, whispering in your ears, “We’ve been waiting for this, your father and I. Probably another reason I was so emotional earlier.” George leaned back, “What dya mean you’ve been waiting?” Molly simply smiled, “I know the look dear, you’ve had it with her for, gosh, how long now Arthur?”

“Since year 5 for them both, Moll.” Arthur yelled from the other side of the room. You felt your cheeks burn, surely visibly red for everyone to see. George was also blushing, not realizing how blatantly obvious he had been over the years. Fred came up behind you both, slinging an arm over each of your shoulders, “Thank Merlin for that though, yeah? He wouldn’t nearly have been as passionate about where you were if he wasn’t always looking for you in a room. Probably would’ve been longer before we realized you were passed out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah, he really was a Saint for me tonight, wasn’t he?” Fred looked at you puzzled, “Come again?” You pointed at George’s bandaged ear, “He’s holy Fred, Saint-like.” Fred just groaned, rolling his eyes as he pushed through the both of you. George however smiled, grabbing your chin and planting another kiss on your lips with a smile.

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k2padfoot · 10 months

Text

Finding Her

Draco x Y/n

summary: The Malfoy’s forbid you of pursing their son after years of a relationship with him. When the war broke out they wanted him as far away as possible from you and your unborn child. Months later Draco learns the truth.

warnings: tad bit of angst, crappy parents, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Rain was pouring down all around you as you raced towards your flat after a long day of work.

Your flat is on the second floor of the building so you made a run for it up the stairs and straight for your front door.

After rummaging through your work bag for your keys you finally unlocked the door and were startled to see Ginny Potter standing in your dimly lit living room.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to see Ginny at your home, the Potter’s have been by your side through so much lately you truly have no idea where you’d be without them. Ginny had always been one of your best friends so when she found out you were about to be a single mother without a job she of course offered her help.

Harry and herself had set you up with an apartment 15 minutes from their home, Harry even got you a job at the Ministry to help with your bills. Ginny being an experienced mother already helped you in many ways to prepare for your child.

“Ginny? My God you almost gave me a heart attack.” you laughed as you sat your bags down and flipped on the kitchen lights.

“So what’s up?” you asked her as you rummaged through the fridge trying to find something to eat.

Ginny had already sat herself down at the breakfast bar across from where you stood, “I know we just saw each other this morning but I had to come quick because this couldn’t wait.”

Your head quickly spun around to face her, “What can’t wait?”

Ginny sighed roughly before continuing, “It’s Draco. He’s at our house—

“I’m sorry but did you just say Draco Malfoy is at your house?” you interrupted her.

“Well if you’d let me finish you would’ve heard the rest.” She said and you nodded at her to continue. “He came looking for you Y/n. He kept rambling about how he’s been back looking for you and that it’s driving him crazy not knowing where you’ve been.”

Your face went flush, “He’s been back?”

“I guess so, and he’s been spending all of his time looking for you. I won’t lie to you Y/n, he’s drunk right now and the only thing he keeps saying is how he needs you. I wouldn’t have came if it wasn’t necessary, he just doesn’t want anyone else but you and we can’t seem to help him no matter how hard we try.” Ginny did her best to explain.

You felt like you were going to break out in a cold sweat any second now, “I-I don’t where I’d start Ginny. He has zero clue about all of this.” you gestured to your pregnant belly, “And I haven’t seen him in over 5 months, what would I even say to him?”

“You don’t need to worry about that okay? Your showing just enough that we can still hide it with an oversized jumper and some sweatpants. All you need to focus on right now is speaking with Draco, I know you don’t want to but I think he needs you Y/n.” Ginny explained.

You exhaled sharply as you thought about the many possibilities of how this could go, “Alright, I’ll change and we’ll go.”

When you arrived at the Potter’s home your feet stayed planted to the ground before you. “Y/n are you coming?” Ginny asked as she opened her front door.

Feeling the bile crawl up your throat you hesitated for a moment, “Y-yeah, yeah of course.” You bit your lip to hold back the bile in your mouth as you stepped into their home.

“Here let me take your coat and I’ll start us some tea.” Ginny told you as she shook your coat off of you and hurried away to the kitchen.

“Y/n? Oh I was really hoping you’d come.” Harry said to you as he exited the living room.

“Y-yeah. So where um, where is Draco?”

“He’s upstairs at the moment. I took him to our guest room hoping he’d sleep it off but that was only an hour ago, I bet he’s still awake up there.” Harry let you know.

You nodded at him before looking up at the dim lit stairwell and hesitantly making your ascend up the steps.

You stopped in front of the guest bedroom, you closed your eyes for a moment trying to prepare yourself to go in. You took a deep breath and turned the door knob which to your dismay revealed an intoxicated Draco Malfoy tossed in the sheets.

“Draco?” you whispered, “Draco are you awake?”

A barley conscious Draco jolted up from the bed, “Huh? Y-yeah I’m up what’s wro— Oh my god Y/n is that you?” He was shocked to see you standing before him nonetheless.

“Hi Draco.” you replied.

“W-what are you doing here?”

You moved closer to the end of the bed he was still sat in, “I came to see you. Ginny was over at my place earlier and she said I was needed here.”

You could see he looked ashamed, “Oh God, I’m so sorry Y/n she shouldn’t have bothered you with this.” Draco tried apologizing as he ran his hands through his messy blonde locks.

You sighed softly, “She didn’t bother me at all. She said you needed me, so here I am.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “And you actually came?”

“Well yeah, I’m standing right here aren’t I?” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I guess you’re right.” he agreed.

Your eyes narrowed in on the man before you, it had been far too long since you’ve seen that beautiful face. “So what’s going on Draco? Why’d you come looking for me now?”

“My mother told me everything.” He explained as your stomach turned.

“Sh-she did?”

“Yeah, she told me how she basically threatened your life. How her and my father made sure you were out of the picture, made sure I wasn’t able to love you.. or to love our unborn child.” Draco told you at the same time he wiped few tears away with his sleeve.

Your eyes went wide at his words, “So you know everything?”

“I do. She told me the entirety of it about two weeks ago and I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

Your heart dropped, “Draco I’m so—

“Don’t. Just- just hold on.” He was saying as he got out of bed, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” He apologized while attempting to fix his messy hair and unbuttoned shirt.

He stood before you staring at you in astonishment, “It’s amazing to see you Y/n.”

You smiled faintly at him feeling your cheeks heat up, “You too Draco.”

He exhaled slowly, “God Y/n, I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I thought you had moved away and started a whole new life.” Draco told you as his eyes began to water once more.

You gasped at the idea of Draco thinking you didn’t want him. “Draco, I’m so sorry. I-I thought I had no choice but to stay away from you, if I would’ve just realized your parents were lying then may—

“Stop, don’t do that.” He interrupted taking a few steps closer, you could see his fist clenched at his side in an effort to stop himself from reaching out for you. “Please don’t try to blame yourself. I should’ve looked harder for you, I just can’t believe you were still here the entire time.”

You let out a deep breath, “I know, but you couldn’t have known the truth.”

Draco nodded as he looked at you once again, but this time really looked at you. “Y/n, y-your belly it’s so, so—

“Pregnant?” you joked.

“Well yes but you are absolutely glowing. I just can’t believe that’s my baby in there.” Draco nervously said.

“Yes, yes he is.”

Draco’s mouth went wide, “Did you just say he?”

You could feel your heart flutter at his excitement. “I did.” you assured him.

“Oh. My. God. Wow, I-I have a son?” Tears brimmed at his eyes as he grinned ear to ear.

You nodded back at Draco, “I was thinking of naming him Scorpius.”

“Y-you remembered?” He could barley say between soft sniffles.

You smiled to yourself, “Of course I did. I just know he’s going to have your gorgeous blue eyes.”

Draco slowly approached you with caution until he saw that look in your eyes, the one that told him he never even had to ask your permission in the first place.

Gently he placed his hands on your belly softly caressing the womb that protected his son. “So perfect.” He whispered. “I can’t wait to meet you.” Draco told the little boy you were carrying.

Without warning his tender hands moved from your stomach to around your waist. Draco pulled you in close kissing you like it was yesterday. It was an intense kiss that made your entire body warm, his lips moved against yours like lightning and you were lost in him once again.

You both finally pulled away from each other to catch a breath when Draco gently cradled your face in his hands, “I love you, and before you say anything you don’t have to say it back. I just need you to know that okay? I need you to know that I love you and I’ve never stopped. I will never ever stop loving you and our son.”

You placed your hands on top of his own, “Well I do have something to say.” You told him as Draco could feel his palms turning clammy and his pulse race against time.

“I love you too.” you said with a beaming grin that Draco immediately reciprocated.

Without warning Draco had swooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bed, gently placing you on it.

You laid back against the sheets as Draco stared at you from above. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.” Draco kept repeating as he softly caressed your face. “My perfect girl carrying our perfect baby.” Draco cooed, his hands gently rubbing your belly now.

Watching Draco in awe of you and the baby you created together brought tears to your eyes that you just couldn’t help but let fall.

You smiled through soft sniffles and tears as you observed him only for Draco to notice you as well. “Y/n/n? Baby what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

“N-no, no of course not” you tried to tell him between soft cries. “I’m happy Draco, I promise these are just the happy tears.” you smiled through them.

Draco let out a soft giggle, “Good, because I am going to do everything in my power to keep you and our boy happy, to keep our beautiful family safe. I adore you Y/n and I am just so beyond grateful I finally found you.”

“Me too Dray, me too.” You smiled at him.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #hp imagines #draco masterlist #draco malfoy x y/n #draco fanfiction #hp world #hp imagine #draco x you #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco fics

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year

Text

Fight or flight

Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Tags: explicit | smut | rough sex | light choking | Auror!Sebastian

3.8k words

Summary: A raid goes horribly wrong and both you and Sebastian blame the other. Anger and forbidden desire get the better of you.

A/n: I honestly just wanted to write hot angry sex with Sebastian, and the thought of him strapped with a leather wand holster was rattling around in my brain for far too long. Scroll to the bottom for bonus audio!

What a fucking disaster. The raid you'd spent months planning and hours of your free time fretting over, had fallen apart at the seams at the last second. It could have meant glory and recognition for your team, for the entire Auror department, if only Sebastian Sallow had been a team player.

All you had to show for it was a few inconsequential arrests. The dark wizards responsible for dozens of deaths had once again slipped through your fingers. You'd never felt more dejected after a raid than you were now, the frustration was close to boiling over and whoever happened to be in your path would soon feel your uncontained ire.

It didn't take long for your quiet stewing to be interrupted by a voice from behind you.

"A word?" Sebastian asked, though it was more of a demand.

You narrowed your eyes and with a dramatic huff, pushed past him, stalking into his office. You began pacing the creaking wooden floor in front of his desk which was strewn with papers and various magical objects. The sneakoscope on top of a stack of parchment was whirring excitedly, as it often did—there was no shortage of deception occurring in the Ministry of Magic building.

Sebastian stepped into the room, slamming the door behind him which shook on its hinges with the sheer force of his anger. He yanked at the buckle on his wand holster, the leather strap falling open against his heaving chest. Leaning forward onto his desk, he let out a deep sigh, almost a growl of barely-contained frustration.

"What was that? I had him," he spat, slamming his hands onto the wood, his stare fixed at his knuckles, growing whiter by the second.

"You had him? I was about to make the arrest before you came barging in. You were meant to be holding onto the brother," you shot back, ceasing your pacing.

Sebastian's eyes flashed menacingly as he looked up at you, and you were reminded of just how dangerous he was. A cold shiver ran down your spine at the look usually reserved for his targets.

"You should've let me make the arrest," he said, his voice steady, but deadly.

The comment only served to rile you up, a fierce indignation rising like bile in your throat as you shouted your reply.

"You can't help yourself can you? You own fucking ego always gets in the way."

"My ego? It should've been my kill. Mine."

Sebastian had moved with the quickness of a predator honing in on its prey, his dark eyes boring into you. You involuntarily stepped back under the heavy stare, your breath growing shallow as your thighs hit the desk behind you. He was so close, his breath hot and heavy against your face, the few inches he had on your height enough to make you feel entirely trapped. Prey.

"Kill? You're insane," you breathed, your voice quieter but still dripping with venom. "I should report you."

Your hand flew to your wand but he was quicker, grabbing your wrist with a painful grip. As he pinched the nerves and tendons, your fingers twitched, sending your wand clattering to the floor.

"Figure of speech."

There was more than anger in his dark eyes as they glittered menacingly. A flash of something visceral—desire. Desire for you, or a desire to punish you—you weren't sure which, but knew you'd be getting the same treatment anyway.

Your treacherous body had responded already as you tried to squirm out of his vice. The adrenaline surge had quickened your pulse, now beating rapidly against Sebastian's commanding grip. Fight or flight. All the blood reserved for your reasoning and self control seemed to be pooling between your legs, an intense and infuriating ache settling.

You were by no means weak and helpless, even when disarmed. Your knee jerked, aiming for Sebastian's weak spot—a low blow, literally, but he thoroughly deserved it. He was a quick duellist, all grace and elegance amongst his raw power, and he anticipated your move before you'd even made it. With a twist of his hips, he'd dodged your attack and used your own momentum against you, hooking a leg behind yours and sending you off balance.

With a yelp, you ended up falling onto the desk behind you, Sebastian looming over you with a devilish smirk.

"Nice try. We ought to practice duelling some time. You have a tell when you're about to attack."

You growled and smacked him hard across the face, leaving an angry red imprint across his freckled skin. Sebastian seemed to consider you for a second, his eyes dragging lazily back to your own from where they'd been so mercilessly displaced by your hand only a second ago.

You'd crossed a line and were about to pay for it. Perhaps, that was why you'd felt the need to provoke him. Deep down, you wanted his retaliation—you could feel it pressing into your hip as he straddled your leg.

Sebastian grabbed your other wrist, his nails digging into your skin, leaving angry red marks to show his displeasure. That may have been his intention, but there was pleasure in the pain, and the gasp that left your mouth wasn't meek or fearful, it was one of desperate arousal.

Your breath had grown ragged, unable to tear your eyes or limbs away from him. His head was dipped towards you, a look of deadly intimidation across his face—his eyebrows knitted slightly in a frown, lip curled and neck flushed red. Your eyes followed the tinge of the skin down to his heaving chest, the colour disappearing underneath the fabric of his open collar.

His wand holster dangled under his arms, the handle tantalisingly within reach—if only you had some spare appendage to reach with. Sebastian smirked as he followed your gaze, knowing exactly what you were thinking and reveling in your defeat.

His erection twitched against your thigh and your hips instinctively bucked against him. Sebastian tightened the grip around your wrists, now pinned against the wood beneath you as he seemed to fight the urge to react. You returned his satisfied smirk and pressed yourself into him further, leaning your head back and biting your tongue between your teeth.

Sebastian dipped his head to growl into your ear. "That's how you want to play it?"

You shook your head mockingly. "You're fucking insufferable. Only you would get off on this."

You hated him enough in that moment to want to curse him into oblivion. The months you'd spent planning that raid had been ruined by his need to be the best at everything. To prove he was every bit as worthy of applause and admiration as the so-called Hero of Hogwarts.

The worst part wasn't your fury, it was the fact you wanted him to prove your statement wrong. And you were wrong—he wasn't the only one absolutely brimming with pent up frustration and long-held sexual tension. Your underwear was saturated with forbidden desire and your heart beat to the rhythm of his steadily grinding hips.

He loosened his fingers wrapped around your sore wrists, but before you could do anything he had a hand against your throat, the firm pressure against your windpipe more of a threat than the word he uttered.

"Don't."

You glared at him as your hands stilled around his forearm, the rage in his blood pulsating under your fingers. You dug your fingertips into his tensed muscle, glancing down to where your bodies were joined together. The head of his cock pressed against the straining waistband of his trousers with every synchronised rock of your hips; a patch of wet arousal darkening the grey fabric.

You licked your lips, returning your gaze to his eyes with a shuddering breath. You were goading him, willing him to take you—he was weak in this regard and you both knew it. You'd claim it a victory if he succumbed, though so would he.

Sebastian pushed into you hard, his stiff erection grinding against your hip bone. A moan coiled up your throat and spilled out of your mouth and the last drop of any self control he once held evaporated.

He was gone in a flash, consumed by lust and fury with only one solution to both ailments. He ripped the waistband of your trousers, the button flying off and ricocheting off a glass table lamp with a faint ping as he tugged the garment down your hips.

It was awkward and slow with one hand still pressed against your throat. Unwilling to show him any mercy, you let him struggle until your lower half was bare, his legs pushing yours to the side until he was planted firmly between them. His hand slid between your thighs with a heavy sigh and a knowing grin.

"Oh I knew you wanted it, you're fucking soaking," he teased.

His fingers slid between your folds, circling your entrance to coat his digits with your slick arousal. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and you realised why—you'd stopped struggling against him in that moment.

"Fuck you, Sebastian," you sighed, your head spinning.

Sebastian pushed his fingers inside you, making you gasp and flinch until he started his slow pulsing, seemingly teasing the tension out of you with every press of his hand. Your muscles relaxed, the frown falling from your face as you watched his intense and concentrated expression.

How long could you hold on to your anger? You were teetering on the edge of a precipice; a decision to be made whether to flee or give in to your basal urges and fall willingly into the abyss. There'd be no turning back from Sebastian Sallow—he was possessive, intense and utterly irresistible.

You unwrapped your fingers from around his arm, pushing his holster from his shoulder. His arm twitched as he watched you, making sure you weren't about to pull his wand and blast him across the room. But as the leather fell to the floor with a thud, he finally released your throat, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss.

You scarcely could have called it a kiss—more of a battle of tongues for dominance. Whatever it was, it made your heart race and core ache and dopamine-addled brain scream out for more, more, more.

His fingers curled and pulsed inside you, drawing moans from your mouth, captured by his own. He consumed every whimper and gasp with hungry need, joining the chorus with his own deep groans as he rocked his hips, desperately seeking friction.

Loathe as you were to put him out of his misery, you wanted him too badly—his fingers, whilst thoroughly enjoyable, were a poor substitute for what he held inside his trousers. You were losing your resolve, overcome with lust. Some Auror you were.

"Fuck, Seb," you muttered.

You fiddled with his shirt buttons, revealing his burning skin, hot to the touch and flushed red under his thick hair. Deciding to deal with the repairs later, you ripped the remaining buttons open, tugging the cotton over his broad shoulders littered with bruises and the odd scar; thin lines of white tissue that refused to colour along with his blush.

Whatever possessed you to run your tongue along them probably had something to do with the increasingly rough pulsing between your legs. Sebastian shuddered and ripped his hand away from your heat, pulling open his trousers with a groan as his cock sprang free.

You drew your eyes away from his battle-worn skin to gaze down at his manhood, your eyebrows peaking and eyes softening to a begging look as you whimpered your approval. You'd almost forgotten why you were so angry. Almost, but not quite.

"Son of a bitch," you muttered, wrapping your hands around his neck to attack his mouth.

You bit his lower lip hard, the taste of iron on the tip of your tongue as you drew back, and his hands retaliated with a rough shove of your hips back into the desk, the wooden edge pressing into your behind. He leaned you back, your weight hanging by his neck and the strength of your abdomen.

His cock pressed against your sensitive and swollen clit, rubbing a teasing few strokes before gliding to your entrance and pushing inside. You cried out, a stinging sensation prickling the skin as he stretched you so suddenly and unceremoniously. His girth took some getting used to.

You took him inch by glorious inch until he could push no further and Sebastian pulled out slowly, his lips parted and dark eyes fixed upon you. Gripping the flesh around your hips, hard enough to bruise, he pulled you back onto his cock with a loud moan. Again and again and again.

Your core muscles gave out at the pounding, the pleasure rippling through you relaxing your whole body as you fell back onto the desk. You squirmed as the various clutter dug into your back, pulling the sneakoscope from under your left arm and rolling it onto the floor where it smashed with a gust of magical energy.

"First you…ruin the job," Sebastian seethed between forceful thrusts. "Then you come and…destroy my office."

"It's your fault—I'll fucking break whatever I want in here you absolute arse."

He pulled your legs up around his waist, shifting you towards him with a grunt. Your arousal dripped down his shaft, coating his carpet of curly brown hair as he continued thrusting into you, deeper and deeper. He'd settled into a rhythm, mind-numbingly perfect—steadily building the pool of tension inside you that would soon explode.

You hated that he felt so good, you were so angry at him but your body had reacted to his provocation with desire as quickly as his had. Now you were limp, a toy made only for his pleasure as he took out his frustration on you—and you fucking loved it.

The daggers you shot at him softened with every thrust of his hips, his cock slamming into you as you filled the room with pleasurable moans. Thank Merlin the Auror offices were regularly charmed to be soundproof.

His lip bled from where you'd bit him, and you knew he'd make you pay for that sooner or later, but the sight only awoke something animalistic inside you. You'd seen him bruised and covered in blood before, whether his own or someone else's—it had been the frequent subject of your fantasies; something you'd never admit.

You pulled him down on top of you and he met you in a kiss, passion pouring from his mouth with each moan, his fingers wrapped painfully around the strands of your hair. You met the pain in your scalp by dragging your nails down his bare back, causing puffy welts and staining your fingertips with his blood.

Sebastian inhaled sharply, resuming his grip on your neck as he slowed his thrusts to an agonising pace.

"I'll make you pay for that," he whispered, gazing down at you.

You whimpered, squirming under his grip. Your vision blurred slightly as you gasped against his palm and he pulled away slightly. He denied you the air you desperately needed by kissing you again, his hand moving from your neck to trace your jaw as he resumed his previous rhythm.

The lull only served to intensify the pleasure as he started to fuck you again. You were approaching your climax and desperately sought your release, but the satisfaction it would give him would be unbearable.

There was no averting it, he felt too good. His lips on yours were soft, warm and had that sweet metallic tang that sent your head spinning. As your tongues glided over each other and your breath turned to gasping moans into his mouth, you stilled, unable to stop the explosion if you’d tried.

Your legs shook as you met your release, clenching around Sebastian's hard length and pulling a deep groan from his throat. You were gone. Completely and utterly gone from this mortal plane. The pleasure ripped through you like a dangerous undercurrent, your body writhing as your walls contracted over and over again.

It was bliss—here there was no anger, no thoughts of the failure you’d just endured, only Sebastian.

Sebastian slowed his pace only as you started to once again go limp, your arched back flattening onto the cold wood beneath you and your eyes fluttering as your orgasm ebbed away. He released your mouth, an unexpectedly tender moment as he brushed his lips against your cheek before pulling away.

"Are you finally going to apologise?" he asked quietly.

Your mind was still added from the explosive orgasm and it took you a few seconds to realise what he'd asked. With a fresh surge of anger, you removed your hands from his skin, stubbornly planting them on the desk next to you.

"Absolutely not."

He pulled out of you swiftly, your walls still clenching, now around nothing. You whined and shot him an incredulous look, squeezing your thighs together and shifting your hips as you rode out the last of the pulses between your legs.

"You're an arsehole, Sallow," you gasped.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you gave him a disapproving stare, quickly growing distracted as you took in the sight before you. You'd always thought him attractive but dear Merlin was he a sight to behold.

Underneath his standard-issue Auror's uniform was the body of a man who took his job seriously. He was physically fit, muscular with a slight softness you loved. You had a dying urge to run your hands over his body, but particularly what had been inside you just moments ago.

Sebastian's cock was red, swollen and dripping in arousal—his thick white precum mixed with your own slick glistened in the soft office lighting as you stared completely unabashedly. He smirked under your lustful gaze, his hand wrapping around himself and gliding slowly along the length for your viewing pleasure.

"Time to return the favour," he said.

You gave him a deadpan glare from your exposed position on the desk.

"I could bite your cock off."

"But you won't," he said with a chuckle. "Because you want it, I can tell you're practically drooling over there."

He was right, and it was infuriating. You sat firmly on the desk, refusing to move until he grew tired of the standoff, pulling you off by the arm. You hid a smirk as you knelt on the floor, your bare knees already uncomfortable against the hard wooden boards.

Saliva pooled in the well of your mouth as he yanked the hair tangled in his fingers, your lips parting willingly to take his head into your mouth. He tasted of you, and him; your shared passion mingled on your tongue. He shuddered as you ran your tongue along the underside of the tip, humming appreciatively as your hands trailed up his bare thighs.

Before they could go any further, Sebastian slid his hand around to the back of your head, firmly holding you in place as he started to thrust his hips. You suctioned your cheeks as he threw his head back with a deep groan, sliding his cock into your mouth further each time.

"Yes, yes. Just like that."

The sides of your lips curved in a smile as sinful moans fell from his lips, the rhythm he’d built up becoming faster and his thrusts harder. From your vantage point, he looked to be in ecstasy—his expression softened, eyebrows peaked and lips parted, muttering something unintelligible.

The way he bucked his hips became more erratic and uncontrolled the further he slipped into bliss, every inch filling your mouth and sliding down your throat as his grip on your head became tighter and tighter. Your scalp burned, your eyes stung and throat felt thoroughly abused and yet you moaned through it all; the look on his face was reward enough.

The hands on his thighs felt his muscles tense and shake, and you knew he was approaching his peak. Both of his hands gripped your hair as he pushed his cock into your throat and held you there, the invasion making you gag as the muscles in your throat contracted around his head. Sebastian growled, holding you in place until you smacked his leg and he grinned, pulling you off coughing and spluttering with tears streaming down your cheeks.

He wasn’t done with you yet—he still chased his release, grinding his hips against your face. The moment he looked down to meet your gaze, you knew you were a goner. The anger in his eyes had melted away, only a plea remaining. He stared down in almost reverence as he gasped through the last of his thrusts before tumbling over the edge.

His seed shot down the back of your throat and filled your cheeks; the viscous liquid came thick and fast with each pulse of his cock and you lapped it up eagerly, moaning around him all the while. Sebastian finally loosened the grip on your hair as he came down off his high with a deep sigh and you jumped at the relinquishing of control by wrapping a hand around the base of his length, teasing every last drop of his cum onto your waiting tongue.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, continuing to watch you with ardent admiration.

With a flick of your tongue met with a shuddering gasp, you pulled your mouth away and swallowed dutifully, licking your lips as if you’d enjoyed the most satisfying meal of your life. Sebastian had slumped back on the now thoroughly ravaged desk, his hard work littering the floor and crumpled beyond recognition as you made your way to your feet.

Your skin on your knees was raw, your throat bruised and neck tingling, whilst Sebastian nursed a slightly swollen and bloody lip, his back looking like it had been attacked by a rabid animal. Despite it all, your anger had subsided to manageable levels, and hadn’t that been the point of it all?

Pulling on your clothes, you shuddered to think of the state you were in as you scraped back your hair and smoothed out the creases in your shirt to no avail. You spotted your wand on the floor and picked it up, twirling it over in your fingers as you watched the man you hated and loved in equal measure.

“I’m still furious with you, Sebastian,” you said tiredly.

“And I’m furious with you too,” he replied with a smirk, buckling his holster.

Sebastian pulled you towards him by the waist, snaking a hand around the back of your neck as your lips met in an impassioned kiss, the last of your fight melting away.

“Good, glad we’ve cleared that up,” you said meekly, disentangling yourself from his grasp and retreating towards the door.

You gave him a final look over your shoulder before turning the handle, meeting the devilish smile on his handsome face and realising in that moment that you were now absolutely the property of Sebastian Sallow.

Bonus audio:

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x you

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 4 months

Text

SHE CAN'T COMPARE

Pairings: George Weasley x fem!reader Summary: George's girlfriend broke up with him, and he tells you why Warnings: mentions of a break up Note: I'M ALIVE!

you were sat on the gryffindor couch, next to Fred and Angelina as you waited for George to show up.

no one had seen him since the morning and you were starting to get worried.

you had been informed that he got broken up with earlier that day by his now ex after you were looking for him.

her response was short and rushed, making it more than clear to you that she didn't want to be talking about it.

but it was her cold and harsh tone that made you believe something bad happened.

after a while of just sitting around you sighed and got up

"that's it, i'm looking for him" you looked at your two friends as they looked up with a look that asked 'are you sure?'

"something might of happened to him, or he just needs someone right now, you guys head to bed" you grabbed your sweater and headed out of the common room

you looked around corridors and courtyards, trying to find his large, lanky figure somewhere sitting around, moping

you sighed before climbing up the steep stairs of the astronomy tower

you had thrown on your sweater well before leaving the main castle to escape the winters' night

you finally got to the top and noticed his dark figure leaning against the side, his back to you as he stared off into the mountains in the distance

you walked over to him and held your breath, not sure what reaction you would get from him for being here

"Georgie?" you whispered as you stood behind him,

you heard him sigh "hey, love"

his tone didn't hold the amount of sadness you would of expected

"i heard what happened, are you alright?" you said quietly as you went beside him, looking at his face as he stared up at the stars

"yeah I'm fine" usually, you wouldn't believe that statement, but from the look on his face when he said it, almost made you think he really was ok

"did she tell you why she... you know?" you spoke carefully

"i never loved her the way i should of.." he clicked his tongue

he really didn't seem sad or disappointed, although you sensed a tone of regret

George had been your best friend since childhood, your fathers working together in the ministry meant going over for dinner a few times a month to almost once a week when you and the twins complained about not seeing each other for a while, having connected instantly.

you knew him like the back of your hand, but right now, you couldn't. you couldn't read him, he just seemed, dull, or deep in thought

"what do you mean? it seemed like you loved her a lot" you frowned

he shook his head with a chuckle

"she never compared" was all he said

"George?" you tilted your head

for the first time tonight, he looked down at you, but with a smile

he chuckled again dryly before looking back up at the sky

"of course she didn't compare" he murmured

"compare to what, George?"

George took a deep breath before speaking "to you"

you looked down at your feet, confused by his words, what did he mean?

after a moment of silence he spoke up again, taking it that you didn't understand

"I didn't love her, hell how could I?"

you looked up and saw him already staring at you

you were still frowning, not computing any of this

"how could I possibly love her when you're right there?" he shook his head, towering over you

it was only then when you realised how close you were, you felt his cold breath fanning over your face as he stared at you intently, but softly

"I don't-" you started before he cut you off

"-she told me she loved me, guess what i said" he huffed

you shrugged "what'd you say?" you asked softly

"i said 'i love you too, Y/n' can you believe that? all the times throughout all the 6 months of us dating and all the i love yous, i chose today to say your name instead of hers" he smiled in amusement

you opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it

"i mean sure, i cared about her.. but at the end of the day, it's always been you, it would never be her and she realised that, i feel like she always knew"

"George..." you looked up at him in surprise as he gazed at you.

his eyes held a longing that almost made you weak in the knees, they held a passion and a type of love that made butterflies fly around your stomach

they held such care and softness that made you want to fall into his arms and stay there forever

you've had feelings for George ever since you can remember, but never acted upon it in fear he only saw you as a friend, or worse, a sister.

it could of been the way he teased you over everything, but in a nice way

or it could of been they way he always made you laugh

or the way he kissed your cheek before going off to bed

or the way he always got you your favourite treat from honeydukes without asking

or the way he always stood up for you.

you don't know what it was that made you fall for him, but you did, hard

"i should've known, all these years i've felt something for you, how could it of taken me a girlfriend to realise that i couldn't love anyone but you?" he shook his head in disappointment

"George..." you smiled sadly

"my heart calls your name, even without me knowing it, without me having to try.. my heart belongs to you, it always has" he stepped forward

you smiled up at him but raised your eyebrows, realising he's said all these beautiful things except the 3 words he's been trying to say this whole time

he saw your smile and grinned before pulling you into his arms

you instantly relaxed into his warmth as his strong arms wrapped around you

"i love you" he whispered

"I couldn't tell" you said sarcastically with a teasing smile on your face

"shut up" he shook his head with a laugh

you look up at him, resting your chin on his chest as he holds you

"i love you too, George" you smiled, emphasising his name, still teasing him

"since when are you the tease?" he raised an eyebrow

"ever since you became a softy" you smirked

"I'd rather be soft for you than anyone else" he shrugged

"we should get back to the castle, it's probably way past curfew now" you tried pulling away but he wouldn't let you

"not so fast love, are you forgetting something?" he raised his eyebrows

"what am i forgetting?" you tilted your head

"the best way of showing love and affection" he smirked

you frowned before you felt his lips on yours

the kiss was short and sweet before he let you go to hold your hand and leading you down the tower, going back to the castle.

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#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasly x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hp imagines #imagines #oneshot #fluff #fred weasley #oliver phelps #x fem!reader #george weasley x fem

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draco-tyler-mikes-paramour · 1 year

Note

May i please request a slytherin reader where she gets in trouble with umbridge and is punished with a "i must not tell lies" scar on her arm. She tries to hide it from draco but he finds out? Ive always wondered how draco would react ;) thank you in advance!

yes i’m on it!! x

draco malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader

tw: torture, violence, mentions blood loss, angst, fluff reader discretion is advised. And this is quite long

seeing between the lines

you knew it was a bad idea joining Dumbledore army after Harry had asked. But after all, Hermione was your best friend, to Draco’s dismay and you were the go between being a Slytherin you had access to the plans of the Inquisitorial Squad unfortunately led by your boyfriend Draco.

You felt awful lying to him but you were also angry at him for trying to destroy Harry and his friends, the DA to be specific which he was yet to find out that you were apart of. However it all fell apart for you very quickly when you were discovered by Crabbe and Goyle practicing defence spells with Parvati. They escorted you both to the office where you were met with the shocked face of Umbridge. You gave the two boys a fleeting death stare as to warn them off of telling Draco that you were part of the DA. “Restrain them.” Umbridge smiled as the Slytherin boys tied your hands to the chair.

“I am truly disappointed girls. Why ever were you engaging in such treacherous magic.” she clasped her hands together as you and Parvati glanced at one another fearfully. “In all due respect Professor, we were just having a little bit of fun it was nothing serious.” She furrowed her brows, still with that wicked grin on her face and walked towards you slowly “Don’t lie.” you shook your head “I’m not professor.” the next two seconds were a blur as she smacked you straight across the face “I told you not to lie Miss y/l/n. With many years of experience in the ministry I know a defence spell when i hear one. Unfortunately you will have to face consequences now.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes from the sting of her slap as you saw yourself in the mirror she had also drawn blood from your cheek. She turned to Parvati who was practically shaking in her chair “Are you practicing defence magic with other members of your class Miss Parvati? Like Mr Potter perhaps.” you knew how good of a liar Parvati was “No Professor. Of course not, it’s against the rules.” Umbridge took that bait.“One month detention. You can go now Miss Patil but I’ll watching you.”

The gryffindor girl nodded before being released and practically running for her life out of Umbridge’s office. “Now what to do with you Miss Y/L/N.” you struggled against your chair and she shushed you “Now now. What’s all this commotion? You’ve disobeyed the rules surely you realise you deserve to be punished.” you shook your head squeezing your eyes shut. “You think i don’t know about your….relations with Mr Malfoy. Which too, is also forbidden in my school. I suppose I should punish you for that too. However Draco has been more that helpful in assisting me to keep this school in order so I’ll spare that punishment…for now.”

She circled around to her desk draw, taking out her wand, a piece of paper and a pen. “I would like you to write lines for today’s punishment. You will write I must not tell lies seven hundred times on this piece of paper. You will not be released from my office until you have finished.” Crabbe released one of your hands “Wait outside the door please boys and lock it.” Umbridge explained. Your stomach dropped and you picked up the pen with a shaky hand before you started writing. I must not tell lies I must not tell lies I must not tell lies. as you began to write line number 15 you felt a sharp stinging pain in your arm.

You rolled up your sleeves and saw your own writing cutting into your skin. You eyes began to water again as the pain got stronger. You pleaded with Umbridge as she sat watching you, the happy expression never leaving her pug-like face. “Please…no.” you said in choked whisper. She sighed and shook her head “I feared you’d say that Miss Y/L/N. Now carry on or I’m afraid I will have to take matters into my own hands. I don’t like disobedient children.”

You carried on writing, each sentence cutting in the same spot in your arm making you cry out in pain until you could no longer write. Umbridge took clear joy from your punishment and stood up coming around her desk once more “I’m afraid you’ve left me with no choice but to carry out it myself.” she fluttered her eyes with evil intent. “You’re the devil.” you cried , straining against the chair “That is an a terrible thing to say to your headmistress. You horrible little girl.” and with the flick of her wand she carried on the sentences, carving into your arm making you scream out in pain.

It went on for almost 4 hours. Even Crabbe and goyle felt bad and knew that they wouldn’t be the only ones able to hear your blood curdling screams that could wake an army. But everyone knew where they came from and who was causing them. The who would be the mystery unless the boys and Parvati were to tell people that it was you being punished which they probably would. When you were finally released, it was nightfall and you were seriously injured. “Mr Goyle please come back in.” when the boys opened the door and crabbe nearly passed out from the sight of you, half of you soaked in your own blood and struggling to stay conscious, surprised you were even alive.

“I hope you learned your lesson Miss Y/L/N.” You dragged yourself to the hospital wing assisted by Goyle “You tell Draco… and i’ll kill you.” you choked out at the boy holding you up. He said nothing and nodded. Goyle was going to tell Draco no matter what you said. Madame Pomfrey attended you immediately, luckily there were no other students in the hospital wing. She patched you up with a sympathetic look of deep concern on her face “Stay here till morning and then you can go back to your dorm. But you must rest for a few days. You lost quite a lot of blood.”

You sighed weakly lying in the hospital bed as pomfrey connected your bandaged arm to an IV and within minutes you were asleep. When you awoke the next morning you felt a hand holding yours. Opening your eyes you were met with the puffy red face of Hermione. “Mione.” you smiled groggily. “I’m so relieved you’re okay.” she wiped her tears and rubbed her thumb over the top of your hand. She helped you sit up in your bed fluffing the pillows behind you “I’m guessing Parvati told everyone.” Hermione shook her head “Just the DA. To keep everyone vigilant.” You bit the inside of your cheek nervously “Could you hear it? When Umbridge was punishing me?”

She cast her eyes to the floor “I was in charms class at the time but I’m pretty sure everyone could Y/N. You know thats how Umbridge frightens students to follow her orders. Remember when it was Hannah?” you rolled your eyes “I know. But everyone will gossip about it today.” Hermione gave you a weak smile as you continued “Wait. Draco’s in your charms class.” “Don’t worry Y/N. He looked visibly uncomfortable when it was happening but I don’t think he could tell it was you. Parvati covered for you and told him you were studying in your dorm and didn’t want any distractions from anyone. Whether or not he listened to her is another matter entirely.”

“Right well I better not waste anymore time he’ll be looking for me.” You insisted. Hermione shook her head “It’s sad really. He’s your boyfriend yet…” you finished her sentence “Yet he’s the head of the inquisitorial squad determined to rat everyone out just keep him and his idiot friends out of the trouble. Mione I know, I currently hate him for it.” She helped you up out of bed as madame pomfrey came over. She took your bandages off to reveal a fresh red cracked scar reading i must not tell lies.

Hermione observed your arm with a deep frown on her face “Oh Y/N….” you shrugged dejectedly as pomfrey collected a clean uniform and set it down on your bed. “I’ll still do whatever I can to help. Even more so now this happened. That she-devil needs to be chucked out of this school.” You pulled on your uniform making sure the scar was hidden under your jumper. Your arm was sore but it wasn’t unbearable you prayed Draco wouldn’t notice but you knew that facing him was going to be difficult for you.

You walked slowly back to your dorm, deliberately stalling. However it was no use and before you knew it you were making your way through the door of the common room. Of course there Draco sat on the plush green sofa. You immediately felt a lump in your throat and pretended not to notice him like it would solve the problem. He watched you walk by small smile on his face at your absent mindedness. As you got to the bottom of the stairs you felt is his arms wrap around your waist “Where are you off to my darling? I knocked on your dorm this morning but you weren’t in. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” draco sighed into your neck.

you turned yourself out of his hold looking up at him to meet his icy blue gaze “Sorry went to the library I’ve just been studying a lot. I’m still quite busy Draco so I’m gonna get back to my dorm” his brows furrowed “But I didn’t see you all day yesterday. Had to put up with all that screaming from Umbridge’s office and Patil, a gryffindor, letting me know that youd locked yourself in your dorm to study. Cant I just hang out in your room or you can come to mine-“ you felt yourself beginning to choke up and get angry at his words so you cut him off “Draco. I’m busy. Not now.” and you took off up the stairs as he stood rejected watching your figure retreat into the dark hallway.

You threw yourself on your bed sobbing into the pillows. You had no idea how to act in front of Draco. You were so angry yet you loved him so much. For the rest of the day you showered and got into some comfy clothes before catching up on some schoolwork and getting some more rest. You felt your stomach begin to rumble so you got up again and trudged your way down to the great hall. You came down into the common where unfortunately Draco and all his friends were still sat. Blaise noticed you first and nudged the blonde boy. Draco looked at you hopefully as you ignored him once again.

“Y/N.” he called out to you. Internally cringing you faced him with a polite smile “Hi.” he scratched the back of his head “Did I uh- do something?” you shook your head as you felt the anger bubble within you “It just seems like I have. You’ve been acting really off with me today. Are you feeling ill? You don’t look well. You’ve been studying too much.” you rolled your eyes as your saw the other boys listening in on your conversation “I’m stressed, I need to study I already told you. Or is that not okay? I don’t want to do this in front of your mates Draco.” you turned to go back to your dorm but he grabbed your arm. The one with scar making you cry out in pain. He noticed immediately “Shit, are you okay darling? Did I hurt you?” You stepped back from him “No it’s fine. I just want some alone time Draco, please.”

You went back to your dorm even though you were starving and after an hour you eventually gave in. Giving it one last attempt you headed down to the great hall without any attention seeking from your boyfriend. Crabbe, Goyle and Draco were still sitting in the common room although this time there was no laughing or joking that could be heard “We have something to tell you.” Crabbe played nervously with the hem of his robe “Okay? what?” Draco looked at the boy suspiciously “You won’t like it.” Goyle admitted.

The slytherin prince sat back into the sofa “Well now you have to tell me. Is it to do with the DA? Cause you know we need to go to umbridge immediately if there’s information you’ve found.” Goyle sighed “No but well..sort of. Its complicated.” Draco frowned “For God sake spit it out.” “It’s Y/N.” Crabbe confessed “What are you talking about?”But if there was ever worse timing for you to return the from the great hall, this was it. you heard the heated exchange between the boys and caught Goyle ratting you out to Draco as you opened the common room door

“We saw her performing a defence spell with parvati so we took them to umbridge’s office. But we didn’t realise Umbridge was going to punish her with the lines. So the uh…the…the screams were hers. She was bleeding, that’s bit of an understatement really. And then I took her to the hospital wing after Umbridge had…finished with her. But I had to Draco.” You stormed into the room “Goyle! You asshole I told you not to say anything.” you yelled as Dracos heart dropped and eyes widened with horror as faced you.

“What? You mean yesterday when…all those screams..that was you.” his body when numb. “Yes. it was.” You eyes produced fresh tears as they flicked between the three boys “It’s your fault. All of you. Especially you Draco. You and your stupid fucking mates, you’ll do anything to destroy Harry. This is what your doing to people. To me. The person you love and the people trying to save this school from deatheaters and voldemort.” You screamed at him,rolling up your sleeve pointing at your arm with tears streaming your face as he stared at you as you headed off back to your dorm.

Draco ran after you shutting the door behind him “Y/N I-“ you cut him off, shouting “That monster of a woman tortured me for hours for using one defence spell. One. I nearly died! And yes I am part of the DA before you ask. I have to be if I want to survive in this school. God, Draco if anyone should be helping us it’s you! You hate your family and everyone knows they’re deatheaters anyway.” admittedly you felt bad for saying it but it was true. You turned away from him, sitting on your bed and sobbed “Go on turn me in then.” silence. You faced him again “If you have nothing to say then leave.”

he sat down and suddenly grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he whispered over and over as tears streamed down his face “i love you. forgive me.” his gaze flicked to the scar on your arm, feeling wracked with an overwhelming guilt. You both held each other until your crying had turned to sniffles. Draco held one side of your face as he cradled the rest of your body “I can’t tell you how much I regret acting this way. You wouldn’t have suffered if I hadn’t have been Umbridge’s pet. That woman deserves Azkaban.”

You smiled “It’s true. You’ve definitely made yourself even more hated than usual. You know that Umbridge is insufferable and inquisitorial squad is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. You lot made a lot of people suffer.” Draco hung his head in shame “I know. I promise I will spend a lot of my free time hating myself.” you giggled nuzzling into your boyfriend “Well I’m glad you feel that way. Though there is one thing you could do. You could stay in the inquisitorial but you wont tell on anyone. Make Umbridge think everything’s perfect and let the DA carry on to drive her out the school.” He nodded “If it protects you, I’ll do anything.” you gave him a stern look “So you’ll stop going after Harry too?” He sighed “Yes I will stop going after Harry. I’ll even talk to my father and the ministry about Umbridge.”

He kissed you deeply stroking your hair “I promise, anything for you. Now let’s rest and let me take care of you sweetheart.” You laid in your bed with Draco, his arms wrapped tightly around your body coaxing you off to sleep. And for the first time in a long time you felt hopeful about the future.

hope it’s not too dramatic lols. Also if you are following my Draco series I’m am still continuing with it I’m trying to finish the next chapter xx

#draco fanfiction #draco fluff #draco imagine #draco angst #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco smut #draco malfoy imagines #draco x y/n

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yanxidarlings · 4 months

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hello !! I've been really interested in your "not slytherin" writing and i think i have reread it more than 20-ish times hahahah since it's really good and you're the reason why i am invested in all these fan characters (since i didnt see what their appeal was before reading your work).

and now speaking of it, I'm now thinking about a specific "what if?" scenario, and that is; what if the suffering the reader goes through becomes so much to the point it transforms them into an obscurial? they have pretty much oppressed all their emotions, all their negativity, for four years— and it broke them. and the angst would be so good for this. the reader would definitely be more than distrustful. they're afraid that since their name has already been burnt off their own family; they would soon be expelled or even worse taken into the ministry for how dangerous they are to the other students. and this would definitely up the yandere factor to another level. they're aware theyre at fault for most of the reader's suffering, and that a single trigger would cause them to burst but then they can't do a single fucking thing about it or else.

not a request, but it's something ive been thinking about for a long time now !! (I'm really new to the hp fandom and ur writing definitely made me want to read more into them so I'm glad i stumbled upon it suddenly ^^)

dude, broski, broskilenski, ur a wizard of some sort because HOW ELSE COULD YOU READ MY MIND

i was considering making the reader an obscurial (my favourite fanfiction trope by far) but hesitent incase it was too farfetched but I HAVE BEEN GIVEN A SIGN

was sitting on not slytherin aye p2 but this ask has given me the inspiration to write

so without further adieu, with compliments to the other not slytherin p2 ask

jaythes1mp asked:

Could you do a part two of your latest fic (at this time) — YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?

Where all the sudden suffocating affection they’re showing him after years of tournament makes him leave Hogwarts because he’s so terrified. He knows they couldn’t have changed, since they’re still threatening anyone near him. But once news gets around to them that he’s leaving for good? How would they take the news? And if they learn that he’s been disowned from his family? Would that be a good or bad thing — because now they can’t arrange a marriage. And it would be harder to find him if he got out of their grasps.

Would they be forced to team up? Would they force him into an unbreakable vow or blood pact??

Please do my request, I’ll beg. Just ask, I will actually get on my knees and beg. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

i present

YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE? P2

“remember, you have to do anything to be slytherin, no matter what it takes” draco's words replayed in m/n's head. he'd replayed that sentance so much it had become distorted, is that even what he said m/n thought to himself, watching the train pass by.

under his eyes were bags the size of boulders, he hadn't slept in days. not since..

"excuse me, sir" a voice rung in his head. m/n shook his head, he wanted it all to go away, go away, go away- "mister, i'm gonna have to ask you for ID" somesort of internal wiring within him snapped "GO AWAY" m/n screamed, finally turning to face to the person- man.. muggle police officer, that had been addressing him.

the officer moved back, taking a strange device off his uniform and speaking into it "i'm gonna need back-up, barkley" whilst the man was engaged, m/n made a run for it.

"GET BACK HERE YOUNG MAN" the police officer bellowed, chasing after the teenage boy.

running through, down the subway and onto the train tracks, the officer gave up the pursuit. sooner or later the boy would be run over by an oncoming train in the tunnels.

after running for who knows how long, m/n finally slowed to a walking pace. then he stopped. the sound of a horn filled his ears, the pitch black tunnel illuminated by the vehicles headlights. i

it was getting closer

m/n looked around, there was nowhere to go in the narrow tunnel

closer

tears filled his eyes, but instead of sobbing he began laughing, only to break out into a fit of sobs and then revert back to laughter.

it was too close

suddenly a BANG was heard as the train came to a stop, the tunnel filled with black mist, which had somehow crushed the head of the train.

it was not natural, it was.. dark magic.

• it was on the front page of the daily prophet the next day 'OBSCURIAL SIGHTING IN SOUTH LONDON SUBWAY' obscurials were no common occurance, the last one was reported in the 1930's, new york.

• it wasn't a cured illness, no, the circumstances of it's development had simply become less common. children of all blood status' had access to education in order to facilitate their powers, and there were muggleborn programs across the world to ensure they did not develop one either.

• it had the ministry stumped. there were no leads on the obscurus, nor was a body found to sugget the outburst had caused the hosts death.

• albus dumbledore was no stranger to obscurials, he had lost so much to them, his sister, his nephew — but he knew well what power the host of one held. and the key role one could play in the coming war.

• which is why he had to find the obscurial before the ministry, or lord voldemort did.

"i am not here to hurt you, m/n" the headmaster called out, slowly approaching the young wizard, who's wand was drawn. "what spell do you plan to use, child?" the older man chimed, it was no secret m/n l/n was never the best with applied magic, like he was with potions or magical creatures

m/n's wand arm shook, "petrificus totalus" upon speaking the words, his wand shot out a spell, of which dumbledore blocked. hitting into the ground, the concrete began to degrade.

terrified, m/n dropped his wand, eyes glassy and wide "i didn't- i have to go" he stuttered out

"there are people who will hurt you, who will use you as a weapon" dumbledore moved closer to the boy who was now shaking "i can help, you can help, you don't have to be the monster the obscurus compels you to be" they were now face to face, or beard to cheek, as m/n couldn't break his eyes away from the concrete.

when the boy nodded, the headmaster took his arm, and a loud POP sounded through the air.

the next day, m/n attended breakfast as if he had not been missing for the past two weeks.

the headmaster had given him his own room under the guise of spacing issues, perhaps having an escape would make this year less hellish, or maybe spending too much time alone would exuberate his growing instability.

at least he could kill one of his tormenters without any witnesses now.

a couple people stared at him as he made his way to the great hall, lovegood had even greeted him. albeit she held the quibbler she had with her close to her chest.

"salazar!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim from behind him, arms wrapping around him "where have you been, l/n" he didn't like the way malfoy was looking at him, it was soft "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-"

m/n was quick to shove off malfoys embrace, rather roughly, before turning around to walk away.

he was pulled back, he now saw malfoys eyes were glassy, as if he was about to cry. what a baby, m/n thought, he wasn't listening to whatever bollocks was coming out malfoys mouth, instead he just glared "and i'm sorry if i was the reason-"

"malfoy, just go cry about this to the house elves, they get paid to care i don't"

and with that, m/n was off, ignoring zabini and nott who were staring at him as he shoved past.

• as the days went by, his tormentors wouldn't leave him alone, but they weren't doing what they always had, they were being nice. which scared him even more. perhaps because niceness was so foreign or because he knew it had to be a ploy for their next big trick.

• he wanted to be left alone by them but there was no way out. they held him in chokeholds they called hugs and suffocated him with what they called kisses.

• they sat with him in class and one of them was always partnered up with him, but they just wanted to sabotage his grades, and get him expelled.

• they were no longer hostile towards him but towards each other, whenever one caught him with another, they'd fight each other with wits or fists.

• they dragged him to their dorm every night and drew sticks to decide who he would be stuck with for the night. he never slept those nights, they were just waiting for him to fall asleep so they could do something horrible.

• but he rarely ever slept at all these days, which is what contributed to the paranoia that led him to leaving.

• the only reason he stayed was for headmaster dumbledore, who had been attempting to help him learn to control the obscurus, to no avail. when the headmaster was outcast by the ministry, there was no reason to stay and wait to get caught for what he was.

"do you understand your fault, mr l/n" the sickeningly sweet sound of umbridges voice filled his ears, it was more painful than the cuts inflicted on him by the quill he had been forced to write with.

blood was trickling down to the floor, the words that he had been made to write indecipherable, covered in the blood they had drawn. "i must not disrespect the high inquisitor" he uttered, teeth clenched.

"i don't think you understand, mr l/n, twenty more lines"

he remained still, staring at the blood on the carpet, then at the decorative plates embeded with cats, and then at umbridges face.

"i quit"

"pardon, mr l/n?"

m/n stood up out of his chair, dropping the quill on the floor "i'm leaving hogwarts" he threw his wand on the table he had been forced to maim himself at, before storming out of the room.

• the news soon reached the slytherins that their beloved m/n had left the school, leaving them bewildered.

• when draco tried to find the reader by having his father get in contact with the l/n's, it finally hit them that m/n had been disowned, rendering their previous efforts to keep him useless.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaise is probably the most crushed. his entire plan involved arranging a marriage with the reader, which was now impossible. but what upsets him more is that m/n never even told him. five months and not one mention of being disowned.

• he's mad at the reader until he comes to know the reason for the reader being disowened - because of all he and the other slytherins had done to make it seem like he was a blood traitor.

• blaise hated himself for being a part of it all, but above all, he hated the other slytherins for starting it all. it was draco's fault they all started tormenting him, it was mattheos fault they took it to the extreme.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco had his suspicions from the moment m/n returned, his father had mentioned in passing about the l/n's and how dissapointed they were in their son. but it usually ended in lucius praising draco for being such a good son, so he had never paid it much mind.

• it was his fault, he knew it. he hated feeling powerless but that's what he felt as his father told him m/n hadn't gone back home. m/n didn't have a home. he could be out there all on his own, exposed to the dangers of the muggle world..

• his obsession only grew after m/n left hogwarts, every moment of every day he wondered where he was, if he was okay, if he was with anyone. if he was with anyone he'd end them.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo had been told by his parents a few months ago they were unable to arrange a marriage because m/n had been disowned. not that he told anyone else, let them think they have him whilst lorenzo makes m/n fall in love with him.

• except his every advance was met with rejection or hostility. and when m/n left for good he was devastated, how were they supposed to live out their love story now?

• lorenzo confronts the other slytherins when the news m/n had left reached them, which is what led to the realization that they were all sickly obsessed with the ravenclaw.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• something had been strange about m/n the moment he returned, mattheo saw it in his eyes. whether it was what he had gone through the previous years still haunting him, or something else, mattheo tries to get m/n to talk to him, but he's.. mattheo, who once broke m/n's ribcage from beating him.

• it was impossible to foster any trust no matter what he did. he tries to talk about his own struggles, his cruel father and upbringing. he tries to treat m/n like a porcelain doll, but the walls never go down.

• hell hath no rage like a riddle scorned, mattheo would have killed umbridge if tom hadn't stopped him. but he wasn't done with just her, the l/n's were next on his path of rage, and there was little anyone could do to stop him from inflicting a painful death on them

THEODORE NOTT

• theo could barely handle m/n's reluctance to warm up to him, it took every bit of strength in him not to yell and force m/n into opening up, accepting his affection, but m/n not being there at all? theo goes off the rails.

• he fears the worst, what if.. m/n.. theo thinks to himself every moment he's not thinking about how to get him back. when draco tells him m/n was disowned, he broke down crying in the bathroom when he was alone later.

• the world was not safe for a young wizard with no wand or money. what if the dark lord went after him for being a blood traitor. theo went with mattheo to threaten umbridge, and figure out where m/n would have gone.

TOM RIDDLE

• tom could see all the pain m/n was going through when he used legilimency on him. he saw the abuse, the torment, the self hatred, and he knew what the reader had been through and become.

• he's furious that m/n's own parents would disown him, as if he was disposable. it reminded him too much of his own father. but he puts his emotions aside to focus on what really mattered, finding and keeping m/n.

• tom was the only one who had figured out m/n's condition, and used it to his advantage, telling his father that the reader was the obscurus the ministry had been looking for, making m/n voldemorts new target for capture.

tracking down an obscurial was not as simple as the dark lord had anticipated it to be, which is why he delegated the task to his eldest son who had first hand experience with the boy, m/n l/n.

coming to a stop as the sight of the boy filled tom vision, the young death eater watched as m/n stared down his reflection in the water. tom slowly came closer, wand at the ready, until his own reflection revealed his presence.

"you look horrible" the boy turned to face tom as he spoke "you here to kill me, riddle?" m/n sounded resigned, like he had already accepted it.

but that was not what tom was there for. "the dark lord wants you within his ranks" tom stated, avoiding m/n's dead gaze. "what the dark lord wants does not concern me" m/n took a step back, he was scared, tom could tell.

"are you going to make this difficult for me, m/n?" tom took a step closer, snaking an arm around the males waist.

before m/n had the chance to try and stab him in the eye with his own wand, tom stunned him, knocking him out, as lord voldemort came out of the shadows "well done, son" tom looked down at m/n's unconscious face as they apparated. you'll love me oneday.

• the readers condition certainly complicates things for the slytherins, it's no longer simply just subjugate him whether he likes it or not, the readers stability is the difference between life or death, freedom or azkaban for them.

• he becomes the dark lords puppet project, a weapon to use against the order of the phoenix and a tool to keep the future of the death eaters loyal.

• he never returns to hogwarts, tom made sure he was outted as the obscurial so that he'd never have anywhere to run, everywhere he could go he would be seen as a threat, a monster.

• an all-out war breaks out bewteen the slytherins once they have the reader in their grasp again. no one is willing to relent, m/n belongs to them. not the others, them.

• the slytherins would slowly come to the realisation there was no single 'winner', none of them could ever have a normal life with him now the dark lord was back and he had developed an obscurus.

• instead the focus would switch into keeping m/n safe, from voldemort, from himself, from the ministry, from everything.

TOM RIDDLE

• out of all of them, tom can handle m/n's obscurus the best. mostly because he's level headed enough not to set him off. sure he has some sadistic tendencies but at the cost of his own, and surrounding lives?

• tom's obsession was exuberated by the obscurus, it made his darling all the more appealing. to hold such power over someone so powerful is what drives him to sometimes provoke the obscurus, to see what potential m/n truly holds.

• sometimes he goes to far and gets someone or himself seriously injured. he wants to help his darling learn to control the obscurus, but it's hard to acheive when he himself also wants to control his darling.

THEODORE NOTT

• theo is frankly horrified when he finds out m/n had developed an obscurus. he had only ever heard stories about obscurials dying young, after an outburst they can't control.

• he wonders how long m/n had suffered with it for. in the back of his mind, he hopes it was before hogwarts, or else he truly was an absolute piece of shit, to help torment the one he loves most into such a despairful illness.

• theo spends the time he's not with his darling searching through the old pureblood libraries for even a hint of a cure. he wanted to be with his darling forever, but the oldest obscurial only ever lived until 23. theo won't stop until he can figure out how to get rid of the obscurus.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• mattheo knows he's most likely the reason, above all the other slytherins, for the readers affliction. he was the one who chased him into dark hallways and used the torture curse, the one who said the nastiest things, the one who went the furthest with the torment.

• he wishes he could take all his darlings pain away. because one wrong word, one accidental touch, could send him over the edge. a world without his darling is what scares him the most, above everything fucked up in the wizarding world.

• so he treats m/n like a single bump would shatter him. it's difficult, mattheo isn't exactly the super soft type, but he tries, he knows if any of the slytherins caught m/n looking upset around him they'd end him.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo underestimates the readers condition, until he finally see's it for himself one day when snape had called m/n a freak, and he exploded. safe to say, it terrified enzo.

• he's under the impression that if he loves m/n enough, the obscurus will go away. deep down he knows it won't, but it helps him justify the heap of affection he doses his darling in. his heart breaks when he's pushed away and he knows pushing back could result in the worst.

• lorenzo is the readers number one caretaker. he always reminds them to eat and get sleep and not to stress about anything. he tries to treat them as normally as possible but it gets difficult when the obscurus mentality kicks in and m/n starts talking about killing them all.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco isn't quite sure how to approach his dear darling after finding out he's an obscurial. draco is overcome with guilt for the hand he had in it, and abominably frustrated he can't just force the reader into doing what he wants.

• when he becomes a death eater he begins to fear for his darlings safety, he hears what the dark lord says about his plans including m/n, and it scares him. there's no regard for m/n's safety or survival, the dark lords only goal is to set m/n off when he takes hogwarts for a quick and easy victory.

• draco tries to get closer to m/n by playing the dependent rich boy, who doesn't know how to do anything for himself. draco figures that if m/n starts to feel responsible for him, it'll be harder for him to leave or say no.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaises mother told him to stay far away from m/n when she found out. if it were anyone else he would take her advice, but this was his darling, and he could never abandon him over a small imperfection.

• he's the easiest to be around among them all, he doesn't feel the need to always been touching or talking to the reader which is usually what sets him off.

• blaise tries to help m/n settle back into normal life (normal meaning non socially isolated endlessly tormented), but years of torment has taken it's toll in more ways than one. sometimes m/n will accuse blaise and the others of the strangest things, but they all have to take it in stride, or else risk an outburst.

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