#this from someone who’s never read HP and only watched it once OKAY who do i think i am fr 💀

[writingsbychlo]

✨ hogwarts au ✨

#what if… #my brain is spinning a bit #this from someone who’s never read HP and only watched it once OKAY who do i think i am fr 💀 #the audacity

[lavenderbang]

Love Letters

Gryffindor! Seo Changbin x Ravenclaw! reader

Genre(s): Harry Potter/hogwarts au!, ABSOLUTE FLUFF, one scene of angst but that’s it, acquaintances(?) to lovers (Reader has a crush on Changbin but they aren’t quite friends???), feat. the rest of skz (mainly Felix, Jisung, Bangchan, and Jeongin though...)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of self-doubt, but that’s about it :)

W.C: 12.9k

Summary: Seo Changbin was used to his friends having to turn down confessions left and right, seeing as their little friend group as one of the most popular in the school. He convinced himself he didn’t care if nobody ever had interest in him, as it seemed liked such a hassle. That is, until he receives finds a box of chocolates and a love note from his “secret admirer”

A/N: I originally had this idea for Chan, but I feel like Changbin doesn’t get enough love these days and I am such a big simp for Binnie, so here we are. I also love different AUs, and Hogwarts is by far one of my favourites. And with the recent controversy of the stupid game coming out, this is a better way to indulge in the HP universe without supporting Transphobia and Antisemitism, so I hope you enjoy!

Everybody, look how cute he is

“Oh no, she’s crying...” Jeongin sighed, a look of sympathy washing over his features as the boys watched Hyunjin reject yet another confession. 

They were sat at their usual table in the library, when a sweet hufflepuff girl came up to the group and asked to speak with Hyunjin privately, a normal occurrence for the Slytherin boy, as many girls and guys alike fell for his pretty visuals.

“Its always the worst when they end up crying...” Felix frowned, “It makes me feel so bad for them.”

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan hums in agreement, looking down at the table, “Like you know its for the best and you turn them down gently, but still...”

Hyunjin then gave an apologetic bow to the girl and made his way back over to the table. He sat, letting out a deep sigh and brushing his hand through his hair.

“Well?” Jisung said, leaning his chin on his fist, “What happened?”

“She told me how she grew feelings for me recently and how she couldn’t stop thinking about me, which is sweet. She even wrote me a poem...” Hyunjin explained, taking out a folded pink piece of paper from his pocket. However, he didn’t open it, instead he placed it the middle of his potion book and closed it, “I let her down as gently as possible, and she said she understood, but I could see her holding back tears.”

“oh man...” Seungmin winced, scratching the back of his head, “So she was really into you, huh... That’s almost worse.”

“I do not envy you guys.” Changbin scoffed, shaking his head before focusing back on the potions assignment they had due tomorrow, “Being a heart-breaker would be too stressful for me.”

And for the most part, Changbin meant it; the uncomfortable and guilty feelings his friends felt whenever someone would confess their feelings to them and the awkward apologizing for not loving someone back was something Changbin couldn’t imagine himself doing. 

But deep down, he wished that maybe someone would someday confess to him; how embarrassing that out of his whole friend group, he’s the only one who has never been asked out before! Sure, he’s dated, but he always made the first move, always was the one pining after someone else. Maybe once, he’d like to be sought after too?

“It’s okay, she’ll get over it eventually.” Chan said, writing on his own assignment, “I’ll talk to her later tonight in the common room about it.”

“I doubt she wants to talk to you, Channie.” Minho said and rolled his eyes, “I know you’re head of Hufflepuff and you’re supposed to look out for your housemates, but she’ll probably still be a bit sensitive about it.”

“fair point, I’ll just let her be then.” Chan hummed, the boys finally getting back to work on their assignment, since the looming deadline was more important than talk of a rejection.

--------

You sat reading a book in the ravenclaw common room, snuggled up in the corner of the love seat with a cup of tea when the rowdiness of boys stumbled in. You glanced up to see Felix, Chan, Jisung and Changbin enter, seemingly laughing at the conversation the must had been having on the way here. When Jisung caught your gaze, he smiled.

“Oh hey (Y/N)! Sorry if we are bothering you!” He apologized and plopped down on the couch across from the fireplace. The other boys followed suit and sat down next to Jisung, “We’re just gonna hang out here for a bit if that’s okay?”

Jisung was a very good head of house; sure his thought process was pretty odd, but he always was taking in new information and trying to take good care of the rest of his house.

You nodded, before glancing at Felix, who smiled sweetly and waved to you; you shyly waved back focusing back on your book.

Out of the two Australian Hufflepuffs, you were more acquainted with Felix; He spent a lot of time in the great hall, handing out the baked good he made on the weekends. He also sat next to you in charms, to which he was very friendly and kind. He made sure to always say hello whenever he saw you, which you appreciated.

“So as I was saying,” Jisung huffed, before continuing whatever the boys were talking about previously. You didn’t listen much, opting to continue reading and minding your own business; however, that became increasing difficult when Changbin started speaking.

You caught yourself stealing glances at the dark haired Gryffindor from over the top of you book, feeling giddiness bubble up inside whenever he would smile or push his bangs out of his eyes.

You knew it was silly; you barely even spoken to Changbin, besides a simple greeting, yet his presence made you feel anxious. He was handsome and kind, very smart and passionate about the things he cared about. You’ll never forget the day you had heard him talking with Chan over quidditch, the conviction and intensity he had in his voice quite frankly made you feel nothing short of inspired.

So you may have grown a crush on Changbin. A secret one that nobody would ever get to know about. You would listen at look from afar, but it was just too much for you to ever even dream of actually being with him. Besides, he knows plenty of students; he probably doesn’t even really know who you are, so your chances were at zero.

But still, you though about him, what it would be like to go on a date with him. What it would be like to have him talk about you with the same passion and spirit. To be able to kiss him...

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought, lifting your book so it covered your flushed face. Suddenly the boy’s conversation switched to something more serious, and you felt your ears perk up as you listened.

“So what about that girl and Hyunjin today?” Felix said before shaking his head pitifully at the rug, “It’s really unfortunate cause I know that exact feeling.”

“The feeling of the girl being rejected or Hyunjin having to reject her?” Jisung said, earning a shove from Chan. Did a girl confess to Hyunjin today? You suddenly felt bad, even though you weren’t there or knew who it was.

“Hyunjin of course,” Chan said and rolled his eyes, “We’ve all been there when we had someone confess to us...”

“Well, all except Binnie here!” Jisung teased, nudging Changbin, who rolled his eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Had Changbin never been asked out? That’s impossible! Everyone knew that the group of eight boy were basically the school’s crushes; He would have had to have dated dozens of-

“Make fun of me all you want,” Changbin folded his arms across his chest and leaned back into the couch, “I may have never been asked out, but I also don’t have to deal with that awkward, sticky situation of telling them you don’t like them back.”

No way Changbin really had never been asked out?! You could have sworn there had to be at least one person who has asked him out.

The more you though about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t think of a single person who you knew had. You couldn’t even think of someone who had a genuine crush on him, and not just praised him for his visuals (well, besides you of course...)

“It doesn’t make you sad, does it?” Felix asked, voice full of concern. Changbin sat quietly for a moment before pursing his lips and shifting in his seat. You caught yourself not even holding your book open anymore, hands folded in your lap waiting to hear his answer.

“I mean, it would be really nice to be sought after, sure.” Changbin mumbled before shaking his head and scoffing, “But there is stress that comes with it too, so I’m okay for now.”

“It’s really not all that its cracked up to be, so you’re not missing out much.” Chan said and patted him on the back. They were silent for a moment, before Chan stood and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn, “Anyways, I should get going to bed, I have a test tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah us too,” Felix nodded, standing from his spot and grasping Changbin’s hand to help him up, “See you boys tomorrow!” As Felix, Chan and Changbin turned to leave, you met their gaze, causing you to embarrassingly wave goodbye to them, praying  they don’t bring up you’re eavesdropping. Lucky for you, them smiled and waved back, before leaving your common room to just you and Jisung.

“I’m gonna go to bed too,” Jisung said out loud, turning to you, “Are you gonna stay out here or can I put out the fire?” 

“Oh yeah, I better get to bed too,” You said meekly and stood up, book in hand as you went to the staircase.

“Good night (Y/N).” Jisung hummed, to which you quietly sputtered out a ‘good night’ in response and darted up the stairs.

You ran to your room, closing the door behind you, mind still on Changbin and the shock of him not being asked out or confessed to. 

It made your nerves all jittery as you laid down on your bed, staring at the ceiling; suddenly, a thought popped into your head that made you smile.

Yes, it was perfect.

---------------

“What do you have in your hand?” Jeongin asked, pointing at the small red box Changbin was carrying as he arrived at their usual table in the library. His cheeks were flushed almost as red as the box and his smile was so big his cheeks puffed out. 

It had been a couple of days since the Hyunjin rejection, and everything was how it normally was. That is until Changbin was returning to his dorm after a class and almost tripped over something in front of his door; he couldn’t believe it! was it really...?

“Oh nothing, just a gift from...” Changbin began coyly, suddenly slamming a note down on the table with a happy laugh, “My secret admirer!”

The table was in shock, some of the boys cheering, while other were quick to try and grasp for the note; Until the sharp shushing of a nearby professor, that is. The boys relaxed a bit, shifting in their seats as Changbin sat down setting the gift down on the table.

“What’s in the box?” Minho asked, reaching for the box and opening it to reveal six homemade-looking chocolates, decorated with caramel hearts and various coloured sprinkles.

“Dibs!” Jisung cheered before reaching out to grab one, only for his hand to be swatted away by Changbin. He covered the chocolates, closing the box back up and pulling it closer to him.

“You guys don’t get them, they’re for me!” Changbin pouted, clutching the box to his chest, “The note doesn’t say ‘to Changbin and all of his friends’, now does it?”

“What does the note say?” Seungmin asked, nodding to the folded white note in Changbin’s hand. The Gryffindor, unfolded the letter, reading the contents out loud:

Dearest Changbin,

Hello.

I watch you from afar every day and I know how much you like the chocolate from Honeydukes. But to make my gift as special as you are, I melted it into something new and decorated it myself. I hope you like them as much as I like you <3

Your Secret Admirer

Changbin’s face flushed re-reading the message, feeling his heart flutter. It wasn’t everyday someone gave him a gift, especially not of something he really liked.

“Who gave this to you?” Hyunjin asked, grinning at the excitement and giddiness in Changbin’s features.

“I don’t know,” Changbin hummed, smile still on his face as he looked over the note once more, “I found it outside my door after Care For Magical Creatures.”

“Good for you, Bin!” Chan said with a smile, ruffling Changbin’s hair like a proud parent before looking over at the note, “I really wonder who it is, though...”

“That’s not important right now,” Felix said, crossing his arms on the table and laying his chin down onto them, “What’s important is how happy they made you feel dude.”

The boys then started to tease Changbin, pinching at his cheeks and shoving his shoulders with chuckles and a string of ‘ooo’s.

You steal a glance from a few tables away, feeling the heat creep up your face at their reactions. You didn’t think Changbin would show his friends your letter, so it was a bit embarrassing; but you didn’t really mind that much, as they didn’t seem like the type to make fun of you for it.

Besides, it was worth all the hot, long hours you spent trying to heat and cool that damn chocolate to see the look on Changbin’s face. It was cute to see how excited he was, ears red and pretty smile seemingly stuck to his face. You decided you wanted to see it again and again and again. You decided he should smile like that everyday, so you began to brainstorm your next idea to make him smile like that again.

----------

“Ow! son of a bitch...” You cried out, sucking the blood that was pooling at the tip of your finger from the prickly thorns of the rose you were preparing. The bundle of soft lavender roses was almost complete, but the thorns were proving to be a pain in the ass.

You instinctively tapped your finger a few times on the pad of your thumb before going back to work. You felt nervous, as you were out in the greenhouses where anyone could just waltz in and catch you; you wanted to finish quickly. Not to mention Changbin would be finishing quidditch practice soon, and you wanted to deliver this gift before he was done.

“Okay that’s good...” You mumbled to yourself before pulling out a red ribbon and tying it around the stems creating a lovely bouquet. You then read over the note once more and slipped in in the ribbon as well. Looking at your handiwork one last time before deciding it was good enough, you stood and approached the quidditch field. You awkwardly tried to hide the purple bouquet in the folds of your robe, even though there wasn’t anyone out to see you; but better safe than sorry.

The weather today was bit chillier than expected, the autumn season coming to a close. It would soon be winter, which was good in its own respect; sure, autumn was beautiful, with the colourful leaves popping against the dull grass and skies, but winter meant powdery snow, warm drinks by the fireplace and cuddling up with someone on the coldest mornings.

that last one you definitely thought about from time to time...

You could hear shouts and the swishing of brooms as you finally got to the quidditch field. You hid by the entrance, peaking your head around the corner just in time to see Changbin neatly block the quaffle from going in, catching it effortlessly before nonchalantly tossing it to another Gryffindor player.

He look so handsome, drenched in sweat, cocky grin adorning his face as he floated like an angel in the sky. You could stay there for hours watching him play, but you had a job to do.

You moved farther from the field, finding the quidditch pitch and entering quickly; You were lucky that there wasn’t anyone changing at that moment, cause you couldn’t even think to check before entering. You looked around, trying to located Changbin’s stuff quickly before getting caught snooping around.

luckily it wasn’t too hard, as you recognized the sneakers he wore everyday in front of a bulky duffle-bag. You gently placed your bundle of flowers on top of the bag, finishing with a few adjustments to make sure it was set up perfectly. And just as quickly as you entered, you scampered away not slowing down until you were a good hundred feet away from the field.

You took a deep breath, feeling all your nerves on edge as you quickly pulled out the same book you’ve been reading recently and flipped to the page you were on. You planned to be sitting in the grass on the way to school, that way you would be able to see the smile on Changbin’s face that you adored so much. 

You tried to steady your breathing, wanting to appear as relaxed and natural, but inside you were screaming. You felt nervous, but also excited. 

Around ten minutes had passed, when suddenly you felt someone lean down beside you and sit with you in the grass. Startled, you look at the figure beside to you reveal Felix, beaming a smile almost as bright as the sun.

“Hey (Y/N)! What’s up?” Felix greeted. You made note of the place in your book before closing it and facing Felix.

“Nothing much, just reading.” You answered, trying you best to sound casual and calm. But inside, you were freaking out. Why was Felix with you? And what about Changbin!? What if he comes while Felix is with you? It ruined your whole plan!

“Cool, I’m waiting for Changbin and Jeongin.” Felix explained, glancing down his watch before looking back at you, “They should be done practice soon.” You hummed, turning to look in the direction of the field.

“Mind if I chill with you while I wait?” Felix asked, to which you nodded and you sat quietly, while Felix began to talk about the Charms class the two of you shared. 

You really tried to pay attention to what Felix was talking about, but your mind was glued on Changbin and the roses. Would he like them? Was the note you wrote too forward? Would he show the boys he played quidditch with or not?

You were snapped out of your daze by the sound of fast footsteps and a shout of excitement that sounded a bit too familiar. You looked at Felix, who shrugged at you, before looking in the direction of the footsteps to see Changbin running up the hill with a tired looking Jeongin trying to catch up.

“Felix? Felix!” Changbin cheered, waving the roses in his hand, beaming with joy, “I got another one!” You felt your nerves be replaced with butterflies, feeling a bit relieved that Changbin seemed to like the gift.

“Another what?!” Felix hopped up, approaching his friend who ran straight into him, knocking the two of them to the ground and almost crushing you in the process. 

They both let out a fit of giggles before Changbin sat up, and showed off the roses you spent almost an hour cutting and pruning for him. His hair was still sweaty and tousled, and he had dry dead grass on his shirt from the fall, but you couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful he had ever looked.

“My secret admirer! They gave new a new gift and a new note!” Changbin squealed, laying back in the grass and clutching the bouquet and note to his chest. Jeongin finally arrived, huffing and puffing before sitting in the grass beside Changbin, lightly kicking the older boy’s shoulder.

“Was it really necessary to run?” He pouted, clutching his stomach like he was gonna puke.

“What does this note say?” Felix asked, reaching for the note, only for Changbin to jerk his arm away so Felix couldn’t grab it.

“None of your business!” Changbin barked, before letting out a breathless chuckle. Felix frowned, crawling on top of the Gryffindor boy to wrestle for the note, to which Changbin easily gave up, opting to gently brush his fingers against the lavender roses.

Felix began to open the note, before glancing at you and closing it up again with a pout. You blinked a couple times at Felix before realizing he didn’t want you to see the note (as if you didn’t write it; but to be fair he didn’t know that). You quickly avert your gaze down to the grass as Felix read the note silently. Jeongin was quick to move over to Felix and read it as well over his shoulder; it was fine, you already knew what it said:

Dearest Changbin,

It’s me again. I hope you enjoyed the chocolates! These aren’t nearly as tasty as my last gift, but they are much more pretty.

Flowers are used to convey feelings and meanings. Do you know what lavender roses mean? They represent love at first sight or enchantment. And you have definitely enchanted me! Every time I see you, I feel like I fall in love all over again.

I hope you enjoy these flowers, they are almost as beautiful as you! (you could use something that smells nice after practice anyways <;3)

Your Secret Admirer

“How cute!” Felix gushed, grinning at Changbin who was still playing with the flowers like some sort of lovesick puppy. Your face flushed at Felix’s comment, feeling a bit embarrassed, but also relieved he reacted positively.

“This one is a bit more forward than the last one, huh?” Jeongin suggested, smirk on his face as he folded up the note and handed it back to Changbin. He opened it again, rereading it and smile growing with ever passing second.

You wanted to explode when you saw his reaction; his ear flushed and his nose crinkled cutely as Changbin let out a silly giggle.

“Oh, (Y/N), just so you know what’s up, Changbin has a secret admirer.” Felix explained and you tried your best to try and act like this was news to you.

“You seem pretty happy about it..?” You timidly asked, shyly looking at Changbin. He shifted so his elbows rested under him, holding his head and shoulders up. You secretly were just trying to find out if he really like it or he was feeling pressured, as you remember him mentioning that.

“Its nice...” He mumbled, little grin on his face before he sighed and looked over the note again, “I just wish I knew who it was...”

“(Y/N), you wouldn’t happen to have a clue to who Changbin’s secret admirer is? Maybe one of the ravenclaw kids?” Felix asked, causing the three boys to look at you; Changbin blinked expectantly at you, making you look away and shaking your head no.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anyone mention anything.” You answered, which was technically the truth. After all, you haven’t talked to anyone about being his secret admirer. 

Changbin sighed, laying back in the grass before pulling gently at the petals on one of the roses, rubbing in between his fingers. He smiled to himself before sitting up.

“I guess it doesn’t matter, I’ll just have to figure it out myself.” He hummed, a newfound determination in his voice., “With whatever little clues I get, I will find out who it is!”

“You sound serious.” Felix chuckled, “I guess we’ll have to try and help you figure it out too.”

You felt nervous about that; sure, you thought you were pretty inconspicuous about revealing details of who you are (basically none), but the idea that all eight boys would be trying to find out the identity of the secret admirer made you anxious. 

Changbin hummed in agreement before finally sitting up and brushing the stray bits of grass out of his hair. You secretly wished it could have been you who brushed your hands through his hair...

“Well, we should probably get going. I have to shower before dinner.” Changbin said, gently setting the bouquet down in the grass before smoothing out his dress shirt. 

You watched, hands folded over the book in your lap and Changbin helped Felix stand up, while Jeongin followed suit. Changbin picked up the bouquet again, clutching it fondly to his chest with a bright grin. He then turned his attention to you, catching you off guard.

“See you around, (Y/N).” He hummed and you swore you felt your heart stop. This might have been the first time he mentioned you by name and honestly, it surprised you that he even knew it. 

“Y-yeah! for sure...” You stammered, waving at Changbin as the boys left, leaving you alone in the grass. 

----------

“Wow! The first snow of the season!” Jisung gushed, pressing his cheek up against the cool window to get a look outside, “It so pretty out!”

Chan, Jisung, Felix and Changbin were once again in the ravenclaw common room, just relaxing and spending some time together after a long week of school.

 With the winter coming closer and quidditch season ending, they spent a lot more time in the common room that usual, which you definitely didn’t mind; You just “happened” to be there most nights too, reading up on your book or studying for upcoming tests, but above all else, wanting to be around Changbin.

It had been a few weeks since your last gift to him, since you wanted the next one to be something special. You spent a lot of time thinking about what exactly you wanted to give him; most things you thought of didn’t seem special or good enough to give someone as special as Changbin.

“You can see the big puffy flakes falling down!” Felix exclaimed, smile bright as he squished beside Jisung to see out the window. You watched the boys with a small grin, stirring the tea you had and trying not to giggle at how cute they looked.

“Come look Bin, you always love the first snow.” Chan said, waving over Changbin who sat on the floor at the coffee table by the sofas, seemingly focused on something else.

“Yeah in a minute,” He hummed, playing with a white piece of paper. You watched him unfold it and fold it again and again, flipping it over, rubbing it between his fingers, deeply analyzing it. He was sitting cross-legged, dark shaggy hair messily covering his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He looked handsome when he focused so much, but what was he looking at?

“Binnie, why are you still looking at that note?” Jisung sighed, coming back over Changbin and sitting beside him. 

Note? He was looking at your note..?

“Because,” Chagnbin sighed, setting it back down on the table brushing his hands through his hair before leaning back, “I haven’t gotten another note for weeks now...”

It hurt you to see him look so defeated, and you promised yourself you would never let him go this long without a note again. You felt guilty, but you just wanted to give him the best gift you could, so maybe it was worth it..?

“Awe, don’t worry dude!” Felix comforted, sitting down on the other side of him and wrapping his arm around him, “I’m sure they just have something cooler prepared that takes more time.”

“what if they don’t like me anymore..?” Changbin sighed weakly, biting his bottom lip and picking up the note again, holding it gently. 

You wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t true, and that he was silly for even thinking that, but you held back. You had to give him a new note and a gift now, so you needed to keep this charade up for a bit longer. You took a sip from your tea and flipped a page in your book, trying to not look like you were listening except you were fuming inside.

“Nonsense!” Chan huffed, coming to sit across from them, “Listen, I don’t know why it’s been so long since you got a note, but I’m sure your secret admirer has their reasons. Maybe they are scared you don’t like the notes and gifts. Maybe they have something big prepared like Felix said. Maybe they did give you something but it got lost or taken. My point is, the least likely scenario is them not liking you.”

“I mean, maybe....” Changbin said flatly, looking at the note in his lap sadly. The sight broke your heart and you suddenly felt like such an idiot. Changbin shook his head and set the note back on the table, “I don’t know. I just... I hope you guys are right.”

“Of course we are right,” Jisung said simply, patting Changbin on the shoulder reassuringly, “What reason would this person have to suddenly not like you? none! And there is so much to like about you, right guys?!”

Chan and Felix nod in agreement, trying desperately to cheer the dark haired gryffindor up. He let out a weak smile at his friend’s efforts, but looked back down at his lap sadly.

“Thanks guys...” He said softly, folding his hands in his lap and playing with them, seemingly defeated. 

That sad look was the last straw for you; feeling like you wanted to cry at the sight, you got up quietly and left the common room, determined to get a gift for Changbin now.

Luckily for you, you had the perfect idea after hearing the boys talking earlier.

It was freezing out, the crunch of fresh fallen snow under your shoes as you walked outside. As much as you hated being out here without a coat, you were fueled by the need to make Changbin smile. 

Using a spell you had learned a few years ago, you were able to gather up the freshly fallen snow from the sky, catching it in a crystal ball to make a snow globe of sorts. You would have loved to make an ornate stand for it, but it was almost curfew and you needed to get this to Changbin by tonight. The ball by itself would have to do; besides, maybe Changbin would like it more this way. Being able to roll it around to see the first snow of the year whenever seemed like something he would prefer to just shaking it like a normal snow globe.

Coming back inside and dusting yourself off, you try to neatly and hastily write out a note for him, trying to convey your feelings with every quill stroke. You re-read it, making sure it was perfect before folding it up and carrying your stuff back towards the common room. The only problem now, was there was no wrapping or box you had with you to put it in. And how would you be able to give it to him without him knowing it was from you?

Maybe you couldn’t give it to him tonight. If they just weren’t in the common room, you could sneak up to your room to be able to wrap the orb quickly, but going through the common room with them there was impossible to not be seen. Would tomorrow be better? But the idea of Changbin going to bed disheartened and sad made you feel heartbroken. There was no way you could wait to give it to him but-

“Hey (Y/N) what is that?” Jisung asked, standing out in the hallway right outside of your common room, with Changbin. The two of them had an armful of baked goods from the kitchen.

You freeze in place, feeling like you’ll be sick. You had both of them staring at you for a moment, looking down at the open globe in your hand and the note and you were speechless.

You were done for.

“It’s.. uhmmm...” You mumble, but Changbin is quick to notice the white note in your hand and snatches it from you in a moment.

“It’s from my secret admirer!” Changbin squealed, face lighting up as he unfolds the note and reads it. As he reads through the note, his face grows brighter and brighter and you can’t help but smile back at him, even though your knew you were fucked.

“What does it say?!” Jisung screamed, trying to read it too. He quickly grabbed it from Changbin and began reading it out loud.

Dearest Changbin,

Let me apologize for the long wait for this gift. I was trying to find something special and meaningful to give you to be able to show my love for you, so it took longer than expected. I promise to show you my love more thoroughly from now on.

I have gathered the first snow of the season for you, wanting you to always have a precious and magical moment on hand whenever you need it. Every moment I spend thinking about you is precious and magical for me.

I hope you enjoy this gift, I know how much you love the first snow of the year &lt;3

Your Secret Admirer.

You felt your face heat up as Jisung read your note out loud, not thinking about how cheesy it sounded until it came out of his mouth.

“(Y/N)! Explain yourself!” Jisung shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

Shit, I guess it’s time to come clean and confess. You felt sick to your stomach at the idea of telling Changbin to his face that it’s been you all along, but here goes-

“Yeah (Y/N)! Where did you find this? Did my secret admirer give it to you to give to me?!” Changbin said, face serious, yet he was absolutely dead wrong about the situation. But you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you would be able to sway them away from suspicion of you.

“No, I found it out here sitting by the wall.” You said as nonchalantly as possible, giving Changbin the snow globe. He quirked his brow at the clear crystal ball, before giving it a shake and seeing the snow inside appear and whirl to life. His face softened and he smiled fondly at the small ball.

“I didn’t see who left it, but I didn’t want it to break or be kicked, so I was coming to bring it to you.” You said, gazing at Changbin’s gleeful state and stifling a smile. At least the plan was a success, even if this isn’t what you had in mind.

“See? We told you they were waiting to give you something special buddy!” Jisung said, shaking Changbin’s shoulder before wrapping his arm around his friends and looking back to you, “Thank you (Y/N) for the delivery!”

“Yeah, thank you (Y/N).” Changbin hummed softly, his smile warm enough to melt away the cold you experienced going outside without a jacket. You felt your face heat up as you looked into Changbin’s eyes. He broke eye contact first, looking back down at the ball fondly.

“Of course.” You whispered, feeling like every cell in your body would burst at this moment from a whole conglomerate of feelings.

“Alright lover-boy, lets get these snacks back to the boys.” Jisung said and pulled on Changbin’s arm. They boys departed towards the common room before Jisung called back to you.

“Aren’t you coming too, (Y/N)?”

“Right! Yes, of course.” You confirmed and scurried to catch up to the boys, releasing the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding.

How you avoided being found out was a mystery. Blame it on the brainlessness of boys....

---------

“(Y/N), do you have the notes from Friday?” Felix asked, tugging at the arm of your robe, “Chan spilled water in my bag by accident and ruined mine, so if I could just borrow them to make a copy, I’d really appreciate it.”

It was a week later, and you had been racking your brain for what your next gift to Changbin would be. You weren’t exactly sure how much longer you should stay secret, but the thought of actually confessing made you feel sick. 

But for now, you had more important things to focus on, like school; more specifically the class you were currently in.

“Yeah, totally!” You answered Felix, digging through your bag for your notes and handing them to him, “Sorry, my hand-writing is a bit messy...” He dismissed you, flipping through the pages before frowning.

You stiffened when you realized a moment too late what you had just done.

“Your handwriting looks... familiar.” Felix said chewing his bottom lip until it clicked where he recognized it from. Felix gasped before tugging at your arm once again, “This looks like the love letters Changbin’s been receiving! Are you-”

You quickly hushed the boy, feeling your face heat up. Fuck. 

Felix calmed down a bit before whispering “Are you Changbin’s secret admirer?”

Felix looked at you expectantly. It would be fruitless to lie to him at this point; you could tell he wouldn't believe you even if you tried.

“You can’t tell anyone, especially not him.” You whispered back feverishly, feeling sick to your stomach. How silly of you! Of course Felix would recognize your handwriting, it was obvious. And with how excited he always seemed about the situation, of course he would have looked at the handwriting on the notes a lot.

You felt like you were going to pass out.

“I promise I wont tell him!” Felix said seriously, before giggling like a school girl, “(Y/N), that’s so cute! How long have you like him? You should have asked me to set you up! Also-”

“Felix, can we talk about this in a place that’s not so public...” You whined, looking around the crowded classroom. You suddenly felt exposed, like everyone was looking at you and like everyone knew, because it wasn’t just your little secret now.

“Of course, of course.” Felix said and turned back to his work, but only for a moment to scribble out a note and pass it to you, without lifting his eyes from his assignment.

He talks about the notes all the time, you know. You make him really happy :)

The corners of your lips quirked up, before you mumbled out a shy ‘good’ and focusing on your work again. You were stressed about someone finding out, but at least it was Felix out of all people. You knew he wouldn’t tell, no matter how excited he got because Felix wasn’t the type to break a promise. 

But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of dread in your chest.

Class seemed to drag on, but the moment it ended you quickly packed up and tried your best to leave the classroom without having to talk to Felix about your little crush. It was bad enough that Felix found out, but you didn’t want to get into details with him about your feelings. So you fled, trying to get away as fast as possible.

However, you weren’t so lucky, having Felix corner you in the hallway and drag you off to the entrance hall for some privacy. Great...

“Okay you have to tell me everything!” Felix gushed, not letting go of your arm. You frown and chew your lip nervously, feeling incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation. You stood silently, looking at the floor as if you were guilty and in trouble for something.

“It’s okay (Y/N)...” Felix said softly, coaxing you to look up at him. He grinned at you encouragingly, “I won’t tell anyone, I just want to know.” You took a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh. He wouldn’t leave you alone until you told him about your feelings for Changbin, so you might as well get it over with.

“I don’t know when I started liking him. Since I first saw him I think.” You began, feeling the heat rush to your face. You weren’t able to look at Felix, so you just stared at the floor, fiddling with the edge of your tie.

“I overheard you guys talking about how he never got asked out one night in the common room and I wanted to change that, but asking him out seemed too scary... So I decided to be his secret admirer instead.” You finished simply, rubbing the nape of your neck. Felix stood silently for a moment, lips pursed as he thought. He let go of you, folding his arms over his chest.

“Its the muscles right?” He finally said, smirking at your embarrassed state, “You find his muscles attractive and that’s why you like him, right? I can’t say I blame you though, They are quite a sight...”

“What? No! That’s not the reason!” You stammered out a bit too loudly, eyes shooting up to see Felix’s smug expression. God you wanted to punch him right now.

“I mean, he is handsome and his muscles are cool and all....” You admitted, smiling to yourself as you thought about Changbin, “But I like how passionate he is. And how he’s kind and loyal. And how he’s a good friend above all else.”

“Awe, you’re smiling so hard!” Felix teased you, cooing at how flustered you were getting. He poked your cheek with his finger, smiling when you swatted his hand away,  “You must be imagining him right now.” “Stop teasing me!” You groaned, pushing him away from you and covering your face with your hands. This was going to be unbearable now that Felix knew.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Felix apologized, reaching over to rub your shoulder. You glared at him, feeling sick to your stomach still.

“You should tell him it’s you though.” Felix suggested, before perking up as he got an idea, “Ask him to go on a date during winter break!”

“Are you crazy?!” You screeched. You shook your head disapprovingly, moving to go and sit down on the steps of the entrance hall. You placed your head in your hands and let out a tired sigh. Felix slowly sat beside you, placing his arm around you in comfort.

“I want to tell him, but I’m honestly scared to...” You confessed, looking up at Felix, who was listening to you intently. A sense of doom looms over you at the thought of confessing, “I mean, what if....”

“What if..?”

“What if he finds out its me and.... feels disappointed?”

“Why would he be disappointed if it was you?”

“Because, I’m me and he’s him!” You sighed exasperated. You didn’t know when you started crying, but you felt a tear drip onto your lap. You wiped it away with a sniffle, trying to calm down. Feelings you didn’t even know you had started arising and for some reason, talking to Felix made you feel comfortable to confide in him.

You look down at your shoes, bouncing your knee anxiously as you spoke, “He’s Seo Changbin! He’s cool and he’s popular because he’s the sweetest; he’s the guy that is never rude and he never leaves his friends alone. He always puts himself wholeheartedly into everything he does and he never gives up, no matter how unlikely things will work out for him. He’s such a good person!”

Felix listened to you ramble, nodding along and rubbing your back to hopefully sooth you. You hung your head and let out a sigh, like all the life in you was expelled with that one breath.

“And I’m me... I’m the loser who has no friends, who always has their nose in a book because it’s easy to be alone if I pretend it’s by choice. I have a crush on a guy I barely have spoken to and I wasn’t even sure knew of my existence until a few months ago! I keep to myself, always observing as if I’m the background character and he’s the main character.” You wipe your eyes one more time as you finish rambling, feeling the lump in your throat as you tried to calm down a bit more.

“The background character isn’t supposed to be with the main character. That’s not how stories go...” You finalize, clutching the sleeves of your shirt with a crestfallen expression.

You didn’t quite think about why you were so afraid to tell Changbin it was you, but now it all suddenly made sense. You didn’t feel that he would have feelings for a nobody like you when he was someone like him. It just didn’t seem possible for him to have any interest in you, that’s why being a secret admirer worked so well for you.

You could tell him your feelings without him being disappointed it was you who felt that way.

“Good thing this isn’t one of your silly stories then.” Felix said firmly, not looking over at you. He was still rubbing your back, his determined expression a stark contrast from his gentle movements.

“Listen (Y/N), I know it’s scary and I know you don’t feel like you’re enough, but I can assure you, you are.” Felix explained seriously. His expression softened a bit as he flashed you a small smile, “You are smart, and you’re kind. You’re clearly very thoughtful to do all for this for Changbin. He be a fool to not like you.”

“You have me to support you and cheer you on now. I’m telling you, as your friend,” Felix nudged you a bit at the word friend, trying to cheer you up out of your somber mood, “You should tell him it’s you.”

“I don’t know...” You hummed weakly, feeling like there were a thousand doubts and negative thoughts stirred up in your mind. It all seemed like something any good friend would tell someone to comfort them.

“It’s not fair to neither you nor Changbin that you’re choosing to cheat the both of you out of happiness over a ‘what if’.” Felix said simply, patting you back one last time before retracting his hand to lay in his lap. 

Upon feeling his hand leave your back, you turned to look at Felix, with him staring directly back at you. His lips were pulled into a thin line, with his eyebrows furrowed in a stern, yet sympathetic expression before he finished, “Don’t let yourself sabotage your happiness like that.”

That seemed to spark a sense of hope in your chest, as you let your brain think on the concept for a moment.

It wasn’t fair of you to take away all possibility of Changbin being confessed to. It always made you happy to make him happy; so if Changbin finding out who his secret admirer was would bring him joy, it made sense you’d do everything in your power to make that come true. 

Besides, you knew Changbin was kind, so if he did turn you down, it would be in the most polite way possible, which wouldn’t be so bad...

“I have to tell him.” You deduced after thinking in silence. Felix seemed to perk up at your change in attitude, grinning at your newfound resolve.

“I agree!” Felix said with a nod, “Whatever I can do to help, let me know!”

The cogs were already turning in your head, formulating a plan on how exactly what you were going to do and how you were going to do it. 

------------------

Changbin hummed the tune he had stuck in his head all morning as he sat at his desk. Drumming his pencil against the edge of his potions textbook, he tried to focus on the current homework he had, but it was impossible at this point.

Changbin sighed, giving up on focusing and pulling open the drawer on his desk to pull out all the notes you had written him.

These days, all Changbin could think about was his secret admirer. The thought of them ran through his mind 24/7; what you looked like, what you sounded like, what kind of perfume you wore, what your favourite colour was, why you liked him. Who were you?

Re-reading the notes, he felt his face blush. It was refreshing for someone to care about him so much. He felt spoiled and couldn’t stop the grin on his face from creeping up, especially at the lines where you said you loved him.

He had read the notes over at least a thousand times by now. He could recite them by heart, noticed small things in the handwriting itself, like the way you crossed your ts or how you swoop the g more delicately while writing his name.

Changbin groaned, folding the notes back up and stuffing them in his desk drawer carefully. It had been a couple months since he first got one and he was no closer to figuring out who it was. Nobody seemed to act any differently around him since he started receiving the gifts, and he didn’t notice any lingering stares. Not to mention, he’d not been able to recognize the handiwork from either the gifts or the notes.

It all was so incredibly frustrating and disheartening to him. How was he ever going to figure out who it was if they never gave any clues away?

Changbin reached for the crystal ball you had gifted him from the top of his desk and rolled it around in his hands as he thought about if he’d missed any clues. The globe grew cold in his palms, snow whirling to life inside as he passed it between his hands mindlessly.

There was a sudden knock at his door that pulled him from his thoughts. He was about to yell and ask who it was when a piece of yellow parchment quickly slipped underneath the door. Changbin took a moment to realize what it was, before almost falling out of his desk chair. 

Letters didn’t usually get sent to him directly (or anonymously) unless it was his secret admirer.

He snatched up the paper from his floor before beaming at the familiar way he was addressed at the top of the letter.

Dearest Changbin,

Hello. I am writing something a bit longer so please forgive no gift this time. However I think you’ll probably enjoy today more than any gift I’ve given you so far.

It must have been hard to try and figure out who I am from just my notes. I have meticulously crafted each one as to not give myself away. Even my gifts have everything to do with you and your preferences, and nothing to do with me! But I think you have suffered enough now. If you would like to, You can meet me today, face to face.

Changbin felt his heart stop at that sentence. He was really going to know the answer to the million dollar question. Changbin shook his head and went back to reading before he got to ahead of himself.

However, instead of telling you my identity outright, I think you’d much rather figure it out yourself with a series of clues. Finishing this little game would be so much more satisfying than just being told the answer, right?

So without further ado, your first clue: (to be fair, its more like instructions...)

You need to go to the library and you will find a book sitting on the table you usually sit at with your friends (The table in the corner by the windows). The book has a dark blue hardcover and golden-edged pages. It is my favourite one; I think I’ve read it over a dozen times and I have my own copy that you can borrow anytime :)

Inside the book is another note which has your next clue!

Good luck! I know you’ll figure it out soon, brilliant Changbin!

&lt;3

Your Not-So-Secret Admirer.

Changbin grinned at the playfulness of his secret admirer. It was hard to convey personality through writing a lot of the times, but they managed pretty well in Changbin’s opinion.

He slipped on his shoes excitedly, lacing them up tight before he folded the letter up and stuffed it in his pocket. He could feel the giddiness bubble up in his chest from the fun nature of this little treasure hunt.

He thought to grab his scarf and jacket too, just in case this little game lead him outside, he didn’t want to freeze before he got the chance to meet you.

He went out to the common room, going to make his way to the library when he was stopped briefly by his friend on the couch.

“Hey Bin, where are you headed?” Jeongin called to his housemate, standing up when Changbin barely spared him a glance.

“My secret admirer left me a treasure hunt,” He hummed happily. Jeongin insisted to come too for help, but Changbin simply waved the boy off, “I’ll tell you everything later!”

“Okay, but don’t stay out too late!” Jeongin called to Changbin as the older Gryffindor rushed out the door.

Changbin could only hear the rush of blood in his ears and the pounding in his chest as he weaved through countless stairs and hallways on his way to the library. He was feeling nervous, although the didn’t really think there was reason to be.

It was clear by now that you liked him a lot, yet he was worried about meeting you face to face. What would he say? What if he didn’t live up to what you expected of him?

Changbin wiped his palms on his trousers to hopefully try and aid the clammy feeling before he pushed open the doors to the library. He made a b-line straight to the table he usually sat at, but was surprised to see Chan and Jisung sitting there working on homework.

“Hey Changbin, you okay? You look like you ran here.” Chan chuckled, setting his quill down on the table. 

Changbin barely spared either of them a glance, looking around the table for the book. When he couldn’t see it, he circled around the table, looking at the chairs pulled up against it with a huff.

“Uh... Bin? Hello?” Jisung called out to his friend, “What are you looking for?”

“A book.” Changbin said urgently, finally looking at his two friends when it seemed to be gone, “Its got a blue hardcover and gold pages and was supposed to be at our table.”

“Oh yeah, I think something like that was at the table before we got here.” Chan hummed, looking over at Jisung, “You put it away, right?” 

Changbin felt his heart drop; this was not happening right now.

“Yeah, I moved it so we could study.” Jisung nodded, looking back at Changbin, who was mentally freaking out by now.

His one chance to meet you and figure out who you are and his idiot friends had to move the one thing he needed? He felt like he was going to scream.

“Where did you put it!?” Changbin asked anxiously, slamming his hands down on the table and making the other two boys jump in their seats.

“Relax!” Jisung cried, before turning to point at the library cart that sat about twenty feet away, “I placed it on the cart for re-shelving. It should still be there.”

“What is it?” Chan asked, as Changbin scurried off to the cart without answering. He looked through a few of the books on there before he spotted the one he was looking for on the bottom shelf. Changbin huffed out a sigh of relief, grabbing it from the cart and bringing it back to the table.

“Its a clue from my secret admirer.” Changbin answered; he felt exhausted after experiencing so much panic over almost loosing the book. He turned it over in his hands, opening the front cover.

The other two boys watched as he flipped through the pages before landing somewhere in the middle, where a white piece of paper stuck out of it. You also seemed to highlight the words on the page to create a simple message that read “you are my light”. Changbin felt a bit embarrassed about that, but he thought it was a sweet touch nonetheless.

He carefully unfolded the letter and took a deep breath before reading.

My Dearest Changbin,

Congratulations on finding the first clue! I hope it wasn’t difficult for you.

He smiled at the addition of “my dearest” when addressing him; it made Changbin’s heart flutter just a bit to think of being someones’ dearest...

You know what goes good with a book? Cookies and tea! I often like curling up with a good book, a gingersnap cookie and some chamomile tea in the evenings. The only thing that would make that experience better is if we did it together...

Changbin blushed at the thought of someone reading to him in the evenings; his head in your lap as you read him whatever you wanted. He could almost taste the flowery teas and freshly baked cookies and feel the softness of your fingers through his hair as you told him a story....

Focus Changbin! Focus.

Your next clue is in the kitchen! I made you some cookies and tea to enjoy before we meet. I wasn’t sure what you liked best, but luckily I had help with that!

You will meet a friend of mine there; You know him pretty well :)

He will have your next clue. 

Good luck, I know you’ll figure it out soon, my brilliant Changbin

p.s. please bring the book with you, its my copy :p

&lt;3

Your (Even Less Of A) Secret Admirer

“Wait, you’re meeting them today?!” Chan exclaimed excitedly, leaning over the table to look at the note. Changbin lets the boys take the note to read it over as he flips casually through your book. 

It was filled with annotations and other random notes in the margins. Things that you really liked, ideas the text made you have, even just things you felt or thought about in that moment. Whoever you were, you seemed like a very thoughtful and detailed person, which Changbin could appreciate

Jisung seems to recognize something in the writing, frowning as he finishes reading the note and then looking at the book in Changbin’s hands. It seemed oddly familiar to him....

“What book is that?” Jisung asks, peering cautiously at the cover. Changbin  closed to book to look at the cover before shrugging.

“Don’t know, there isn’t a title on it. They probably have a dust jacket that goes over top with the title.” Changbin hummed, showing his ravenclaw friend the book.

“I think I have a guess on who your admirer is, Bin.” Jisung said nodding to himself as he looked back at the note in Chan’s hands. He grinned a bit as all the gears snapped into place.

“Who!?” Chan asked as he shot out of his chair. Changbin looked at Jisung expecting an answer, but he just shook his head playfully and sat back down. Changbin felt like he could explode right then from anticipation and he wanted to strangle Jisung for not spilling his thoughts; But deep down, he was also pretty glad Jisung didn’t say who he was thinking of. 

It would have ruined the fun.

“It’s the gingersnaps and chamomile that gave them away. The book looked familiar, but if it’s who I think it is, they always have a cup of chamomile when they read.” Jisung revealed, before pointing down towards the bottom of the note, “But I wonder who this mysterious “friend” is?”

“The only way to know if for me to go find out.” Changbin said hastily, scooping up the note and putting it in his pocket with the letter from before, “Thank you for almost ruining everything and then fixing it again, I’ll see you guys later!”

“See you buddy!” Chan yelled to Changbin as the Gryffindor boy rushed away, onto the next location. 

The kitchen was a bit of a walk, so Changbin had some time to speculate.

It annoyed him that Jisung seemed to know before he did, but that must mean the Jisung just knows the person better. Which wasn’t surprising to Changbin, since he was the head of his house and it was his job to know people. Maybe that meant they were a Ravenclaw?

And judging from your scribbly book, that was a good sign that he was right on that.

How many Ravenclaws did Changbin really know? All the members of the quidditch team, Jisung and most of the leaders and/or older Ravenclaws that the younger students depended on, and the few odd students he’d met in his classes. Not really narrowing it down too much...

Whoever you were, Changbin was starting to feel sick at the thought of meeting you. It made him nervous to think about what to finally say when you were standing in front of him.. It was very clear that you liked him a lot, and he wanted to have your first meeting be the best possible interaction. But what then? Would he go out on a date? He’d like to think so, but that could lead to complications...

What if you went and you realized you didn’t like him? The only person who has ever sought after him suddenly deciding they don’t want to be with him anymore made his heart ache.

But what if it went well? Changbin knew he had to do this. He had to know who you were and even if it ended terribly, he at least could look back at this time with fond memories. 

That was the mindset Changbin had as he entered the kitchen, trying his best not to ruin anything the staff were working on. Through the window, he could see it started to snow outside, the soft powder floating through the air. 

Sat next to the window on a stool, plate of cookies on the counter beside him, was someone Changbin didn’t expect to see.

“Felix? What are you doing here?” Changbin asked, walking up to his friend. He noticed two teacups sitting beside Felix, as the hufflepuff smiled at his friend dearly.

“Waiting for you, silly.” Felix hummed, pulling up a second stool beside him and patting it with his hand, “Come sit.”

“So you’re the mysterious “friend” of my secret admirer...” Changbin said simply, pulling the stool out to sit on it. Felix nodded with a ‘mmhmm’, focusing on pouring some tea into the teacup adjacent to Changbin.

He had so many questions for Felix swirling around in his head as he stared blankly at his friend; Did he always know? Was he pretending he didn’t know whenever he got a note and gift? And if he knew, why did he keep this information from Changbin?

 As if he could read his mind, Felix said “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I can’t answer all of them.” The hufflepuff stirred some sugar into his own tea with a spoon, before setting it gingerly on the counter.

“What can you tell me?” Changbin asked, taking a sip of the tea. It was chamomile, like your note said; he grinned at the taste, somehow sweeter because it reminded him of you.

“For starters, I just figured out who it was a week ago, so I haven’t betrayed you for that long.” Felix chuckled, snatching a cookie from the plate and dipping it in his tea, “And believe me, I’ve wanted to tell you about a million times since I found out.”

Changbin grabbed a cookie and took a bite out of it, the rich, spiced flavours contrasting with the tea well. He gazed at his friend, feeling a bit on edge and antsy. He wiped the crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand before speaking again.

“What-”

“Hold it right there buddy!” Felix quickly interrupts, excited grin growing on his face, “You’re aware this is sort of like a game right?”

Changbin nodded, not sure what the other boy was getting at.

“Well, I am only allowed to answer three questions.” Felix said, holding up his fingers to emphasize his point, “And you can’t ask outright who they are. Other than that, you can ask almost anything!”

Changbin took a minute to process the game, before scoffing to himself with a smile. Of course you wouldn’t just let Felix outright reveal your identity; not after all the work you put into this little treasure hunt Changbin was on.

“Choose your questions carefully.” Felix warned, leaning back and taking a sip of his tea to let Changbin have some time to think. 

What he didn’t expect was the Gryffindor to stand up from his spot and start pacing, seemingly deep in thought. It was endearing he took this little game that seriously.

Changbin’s brain was racing a million miles an hour. He wanted to know everything about you, but what was the most important think to ask?

After a few moments, Changbin sat back down and took a deep breath. Relax. He was meeting you today anyways, so he should just ask what his instincts tell him to.

“Ready?” Felix asked nonchalantly, lacing his fingers together and placing his hands under his chin. Changbin nodded firmly, determination gleaming in his eyes.

“How do you know them?”

“I first met them in a class the two of us share. I sit beside them and we exchange notes for the class pretty regularly.” Felix answered, as directly as he could without being too obvious.

“Okay... that narrows the options.... What gift was their favourite to make or which were they most excited to give me?”

“That’s technically two questions in one, but I’ll allow it because I actually know the answer to both. They said they liked making the snowglobe best because it was a very special and magical process, but were most excited to give you the chocolates because it was the first gift.”

“They sound like they’re sweet...”

“They are.”

Felix stared expectantly at Changbin, “Last question?”

Changbin had a question in mind, but he wasn’t sure if he should waste the last question on something so pointless. But it was killing him and he needed to know the answer to the question he’d not been able to stop thinking about since this whole thing started.

“Why do they like me?” Changbin practically mumbles the last syllable, eyes glued to the window. He felt his face flush as he watched the snow fall softly.

It wasn’t that Changbin didn’t like himself; he liked to think he was pretty confident guy overall. But the gifts and the notes just seemed so special, he almost wondered why he deserved them more than who was giving them to him.

“They think you are kind.” Felix began, voice gentle as he looked at his friend fondly, “And they think you’re a good, loyal friend. And above all else, they love how you’re so passionate about the things you care about.”

“That’s why they like you.” Felix hummed finally, taking his focus away from Changbin to drink more tea. 

Changbin felt like he was frozen in time. He wasn’t sure what he expected from the question, but he didn’t expect such deep and thoughtful reasons.

After a moment, Changbin was finally able to bring his gaze back to his friend, who was beaming back at him. Changbin couldn’t help feel bashful, his heart feeling like it was going to pound out of his chest as the corners of his mouth quirked up.

“I need to know who they are.” He said dreamily. Felix hummed, setting his teacup down before reaching into his robe. He gingerly pulled out a sealed white envelope and handed it to Changbin.

“This is for you. It’ll tell you where they are waiting for you.” Felix explained, as Changbin took the envelope and tore it open. Inside was a familiar looking white note.

My Dearest Changbin,

I hope you’re not mad at Felix from keeping my identity secret. He’s just being a good friend to me :p

Anyways, I’m sure you figured it out by now. And if you haven’t, that’s okay too. You’ll know soon enough.

Changbin felt like his entire body was asleep, tingling from head to toe. He could hardly handle the anticipation as he read your note.

I know you spend a lot of time with your friends in the Ravenclaw common room. I assume its your favourite spot to spend time, right?

Mine is the covered bridge that goes over the ravine; Sometimes I visit Sundial Garden too because it’s close, but I find the open airiness of the bridge helps me think.

I am waiting for you on that bridge. I hope to see you soon. &lt;3

Your Patient Admirer

Your note basically confirms you as a ravenclaw student, as you mentioned seeing Changbin spend time in the common room. But that barely mattered now as he knew where you were and that you were waiting for him.

He folded the note up and put in in his pocket, Giving an expectant look to Felix.

“They said they are on the bridge over the ravine.” He mumbled, almost confirming it to himself. Felix nodded, expression playful and soft as he watched his friend be practically frozen in place.

“I...” 

“Why aren’t you leaving, dude?” Felix asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched the Gryffindor tap his toe nervously

“I’ve wanted to know for months now, but I’m scared.” Changbin confessed, letting out a breathless laugh, “I don’t want to disappoint them...”

“I can guarantee you, that is impossible.”

“how can you be sure”

“Because!” Felix sighed exasperatedly, standing up and grabbing onto his friend’s shoulders, “How on earth could you possibly disappoint them when they adore you this much?”

“I don’t know!” Changbin huffed out, shaking his head before gazing at Felix, “I guess I’m just scared we’ll spend time together and they’ll realize they don’t like me...”

“Bin, you are sounding irrational.” Felix deadpanned, squeezing the gryffindor’s shoulders and slightly shaking him, “Don’t you want to know who it is? Don’t you want to at least try and be with this person?”

“More than anything.” Changbin said firmly. As afraid as he was, he was sure he wanted to at least try

“Then go!” Felix chuckled, pushing Changbin away from him, “Go. I promise, it’ll be okay!”

“You’re right.” Changbin hummed, pushing aside his doubts, “Thank you Felix.” Felix nodded, sending his friend off with a thumbs up and a ‘you got this!’ as Changbin dashed out of the kitchen and on his way to the covered bridge where you were waiting.

He wanted to figure out who you were before arriving, but he couldn’t seem to think of who his secret admirer could be. You had a class with Felix (not really helpful because Changbin only shared one class with Felix, where they sat together), You were a ravenclaw (there were thousands of ravenclaws), and you enjoyed tea and reading. 

Not to mention, he also didn’t recognize the handwriting, so he’s never borrowed notes form you before...

The wind was howling a bit more now as the snow fell in big, wet puffs. Changbin felt glad he brought his scarf with him as he walked along the path towards the bridge.

You, on the other hand, should have looked into what the weather was supposed to be like. You leaned on the railing, looking out into the snow covered ravine, sniffling slightly as your nose was running. 

You debated on going back inside, knowing that Changbin would have to walk through the clock tower to get to the bridge anyways; but that thought stopped when you noticed a figure in the distance from your peripheral

Oh god, what do you do? Should you approach him? No because that would mean you’s have to awkwardly walk towards each other and wait to say anything. But if you pretended like you didn’t see him, he might not think you were his secret admirer! But there was nobody else outside because it was cold and snowing so how could he possibly think it was someone else? Should you just turn to look at him? At least then you’d be addressing-

“Hi.” Changbin greeted shyly, sliding next to your spot on the railing to look out on the bridge.

Oh god.

“Hello.” You replied, chewing your bottom lip nervously, stealing a glace at the gryffindor. Were his cheeks red from the cold or because he was embarrassed? 

“You found me.” You mumble meekly, catching the way Changbin’s face morphed into a grin.

“So it is you?” He chuckled, turning towards you and smiling. You turned to look at him properly, nodding and letting and awkward giggle out. You weren’t sure what to say to him in this moment.

“Wow.” Changbin said simply, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “had no idea it could have been you...”

Oh god.

He was disappointed. 

You should have known to never confess. God you felt so stupid! Of course THE Seo Changbin would never-

“I mean, aren’t you way out of my league?” Changbin said with a grin, as your eyes shoot up to meet his. He held that expression he always had whenever he would receive a gift; smile so wide his cheeks poked out, nose slightly crinkled and eyes glittering. You found yourself smiling too.

“Me? I don’t think you have any idea how wonderful you are if you think I’m out of your league...” You joked boldly, immediately looking down at your shoes out of embarrassment. Changbin let out a giggle, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

It was you.

Changbin never even considered you an option when thinking about his admirer. You were diligent and soft spoken and definitely seemed like you’d never be interested in a loud, childish, muscle-head like Changbin. He always thought you were attractive, but he thought he never had a chance with someone like you.

So imagine his surprise when he walked onto the bridge and saw your figure in the distance; he felt like it had to be a prank. But the closer he got the more he could see you were nervous and that nobody else was around to scream ‘gotcha!’ .

It was you and Changbin couldn’t have felt happier.

“Thank you, for everything.” Changbin hummed, handing you your book back. When you grabbed it, he swore he felt a shock go through his body. 

“I- uhmm...” Changbin stuttered, clearing his throat while looking at the ground. Changbin had never felt nervous like this before, but he willed himself to be brave and just speak his mind.

“Listen,” he began, looking back up at you to see your anxious expression. He couldn’t help but think you looked cute, “I have never felt as cared about as I do because of you. It seems almost impossible for me to ever come close to making you feel so loved... But I want to try.

“So, do you maybe want to head inside and we can talk some?” Changbin asked, looking at you expectantly, “Perhaps over a cup of tea in the Museum or astronomy room?”

“As a date..?” You asked teasingly, causing Changbin to scoff

“yeah, as a date silly.” Changbin laughed, shaking his head playfully at you.

“Sounds lovely.” You accepted giddily. With a burst of courage, Changbin slips his hand into yours, eyes widening by how cold you are.

“Oh, I’m sorry I kept you waiting out here for so long, you’re freezing!” He huffed out, hastily taking his scarf off to wrap it around you delicately. He tucked it into your coat, lightly brushing your cheeks with his thumbs; you swore you would faint as Changbin smiled at you wrapped up in his scarf.

You tried not to cheer out loud at his sudden carefulness. His scarf smelled like him and you knew that you’d have a hard time wanting to take it off, even when you got back inside.

This all felt like a dream...

You slipped you hand into his once more as the two of you walked back to the castle, where you swore you could die happy.

--

“Oh dear, he looks like he’s trying to play it off but you can tell he’s upset...” Minho winced, as the table watched Chan have to break the heart of a poor Slytherin boy. 

You watched apologetically, instinctually grabbing at Changbin’s hand as his arm rest around your shoulder. He pulled you closer to him, pressing you against his side as he frowned at the exchange.

When Chan returned, he let out a sigh, slumping down in his chair.

“Asked you out?” Seungmin asked, to which Chan nodded weakly.

“Yeah, he said he wanted to take me out to honeydukes this weekend, but I politely declined.” Chan said simply, crossing his arms over his chest as he furrowed his brow, “He seemed a bit embarrassed. I hope he’s okay...”

“Oh man, that’s rough.” Jeongin hummed, tapping his pencil against the edge of his herbology textbook.

“I do not envy you guys.” Changbin scoffed, turning to look down at you endearingly as you snuggled closer to your boyfriend.

Changbin, your boyfriend.

The thought of it made you both giddy.

“Yeah well, lucky for you to have the only person confess to you be someone you liked back!” Jisung pouted, patting Chan on the back, “some of us have to be heart breakers!”

“Not me.” Changbin mumbled, grinning dreamily before placing a sweet kiss on your lips (and consequently causing the rest of the table to groan).

Maybe it was alright that Changbin didn’t really have people confessing their love to him all the time. It used to bother him, but now that he got to have you, he was happy to not be a heart breaker.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids hogwarts au #skz fantasy au #skz hogwarts au #skz harry potter au #Changbin #seo changbin #changbin skz #changbin fluff #changbin hogwarts au #changbin harry potter au #bang chan #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #hogwarts au #harry potter au

[revengeismygender]

It is truly stunning to me how many people are just unable to disengage from H*rry P*tter. Like, truly stunning. I say this as someone who loooooooooved the books as a child. Loved them. Somewhere in my parents’ attic are multiple copies of once treasured sets including a paperback “travel” set I bought because I essentially always had one of the books on me from the ages of 6 to 16. I was at every midnight release, every movie premiere, and I re-read the entire series once a year for longer than I can remember.

But somewhere along the line I grew up. And I don’t mean I outgrew them because they were childish; I never believed that. I mean I grew up and started engaging with media in a more thoughtful way. I started engaging with people outside of my insular small town and with each re-read I saw more things I couldn’t unsee. I can’t not cringe at Cho Chang. I can’t ignore the antisemitism of the goblin portrayals or the absolute absurdity of every house elf plot. I cannot read the unnecessarily gratuitous description of Rita Skeeter’s “masculine physicality” and not be appalled by what I now see as excruciating evidence of R*wling’s raging transphobia. I cannot read one more time about how not only is Dudley mean, but worse, he’s fat fat fat fat fat.

I cannot pretend HP gave me nothing as a child. I was desperately dorky and lonely and I lived inside books, mainly H*rry P*tter for years on end. It was my introduction to fandom, and fanfic, and fan art. And to fantasy! It was my gateway to an entire world that has enriched my life so much, but it cannot continue to be part of my life. I have never seen Fantastic Beasts. I will never play whatever wretched game they’ve just released. And the thing is, I don’t even miss it. I rarely even think of it until some controversy rears its head.

And that’s what gets me, I guess. I know there are so many people out there who found meaning, or comfort, or hope, or validation in the series as a child. Believe me, you would be hard pressed to find a child more obsessed than I was. But I’m not a child anymore. I’m a trans adult who is stunned to watch people who claim to be allies continue to stuff money in the pockets of someone who has openly admitted to using that money to support groups and policies that do active, material harm to trans people. We can talk about the merits of engaging thoughtfully with problematic media or fans reclaiming stuff for themselves all day long, but at the end of the day this woman is still alive, still incredibly active online and in her weird little TERF world, and actively doing harm to queer people right now.

It’s okay to let HP go. It’s okay to channel that energy into one of the million fantasy series out there that are better conceived and better written. It’s not going to undo your childhood. It doesn’t mean you have to look back and castigate your 10-year-old self for not recognizing and criticizing the werewolf HIV metaphor. It’s just time to let go.

#cw: harry potter #discourse #long post #personal #trans #it’s big ‘how are you going to participate in the revolution you can’t even boycott chick fil a’ energy #stop talking about the revolution when you can’t even bring yourself to not play one mediocre antisemitic game

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Just The Way You Are// D.M.

Request: Hi can you do a draco x reader where they are in a relationship and her parents are like as**oles and they always bother her about her weight so one day she is with draco and makes a comment like “maybe i should stop eating so much” or something like that and Draco is like WHAT and tells her that she is beautiful and all that and he is like really worried Thanks!!

A/N: MY 100TH FIC!!! MY 100TH FIC FOR HP!!! Of course it has to be Draco!! I didn't think I would ever reach 100 fics as well as get over 1000 followers yet here I am. I am so thankful to all of you who have read everything but have also motivated me into continuing to write even when I doubt my own abilities (which is a lot). Thank you so much for requesting, lovely! I hope I have done your request justice! I enjoyed writing this, I ended up writing it all in one sitting. Please read the warnings before you read! And as always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: food, weight issues, shitty parents, swearing (I think) BUT DRACO IS CUTE DAMMIT.

Word count: 2k

Every morning in the Great Hall, breakfast is served at seven am sharp. This gives the students enough time to eat, socialise and let their food settle before classes begin promptly at half past eight. It also gives the students time to read over any mail that should fall with the Owls upon their arrival at eight am.

As your family owl drops a letter inscribed with the familiar handwriting of your mother, you don’t know whether to scream in frustration or burn the letter without reading. You knew that it would be filled with her usual criticism rounded off with a few sweet lines about the renovation to the house or how your cousin was doing so well on her internship abroad.

You flip the letter in your hands a few times; wondering whether the Howler from your mother would be worth it once she never got a reply from you. However, you eventually decide that the Howler would not be worth it and that your mother’s vitriol is better off read in silence.

Rolling your eyes, you try not to let the letter affect you so much. Her words are always poisonous and toxic, but this time, she cuts you where it hurts.

“My dear, how on earth is the Malfoy boy supposed to stay with you if you continue to gain weight? I’ve enclosed a new diet regiment for you to follow – stick to it, this is not an option.”

You scrunch up the letter and the included diet regiment in your hands. Crunching them up until they resemble litter rather than the foul words scrawled onto parchment.

You had never felt you had issues with your weight; there wasn’t any need to necessarily – the meals at Hogwarts were scheduled and there was enough exercise done through the day in order to get to classes on time, and this was before the weekend walks to Hogsmeade or the ambles around the Black Lake with Draco.

You don’t feel like there should be an issue with your weight, but your mother’s words are venomous barbs that stick into your brain. Her words on replay in the forefront of your mind.

There was no real excuse for the way your mother harked on about appearances and reputations. Your family hailed from an ancient line of witches and wizards; even going so far as to state that your ancestors were among the very first to attend Hogwarts when the founders were teachers.

So for your mother, everything since then had to be perfect.

Perfect hair. Perfect dress. Perfect manners.

Perfect weight, apparently.

Any appetite you had before has now dissipated. It’s funny how three lines of a letter is enough to put one off their morning meal.

You felt like a rule change should be implemented at Hogwarts; no mail until the evening - that way students don’t have the time to sit and worry about the thoughts of their parents.

Pushing your plate away from you, you bring out your reading book from your bag. Flipping through the familiar pages, you find the dog-eared corner from where you rounded off last night before falling asleep.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the pages having read the story over a thousand times before, but the niggling voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously similar to your mothers has you reading the same paragraph over and over again.

A kiss being pressed to the top of your hand is the first greeting from Draco. The next is a quiet good morning as he pours himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

You smile at the blonde-haired teenager, looking up from your book, but the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Love, is everything okay?” Draco asks; immediately spotting that something is off.

You shake your head, “It’s nothing to worry about, love. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Draco chuckles; not entirely convinced but happy to wait until you come to him. “It’s because you didn’t stay with me last night.”

You roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ve stayed in your dorm the last three nights; it’s only a matter of time before someone says something.”

Draco shrugs; leaning over to peck your cheek, “Let them, I don’t care.”

“You will when we get caught out by Snape on a random inspection,” You comment with a light laugh.

Draco smiles broadly at the idea of the Head of Slytherin ever completing a random inspection of the dungeon. He grabs a slice of toast from the rack and reaches for the marmalade.

His eyes wander over the lack of food in front of you, “Already eaten?”

You nod, smirking, “And all alone as well since you take so long in the mornings.”

He laughs, “It takes time to look this good, darling.”

“Sure it does,” You comment, leaning in to peck him on the lips. He hums against your mouth happily, but all too soon, you pull away, “I’m off to the library before class, I want to get ahead on the History of Magic essay. I’ll see you later.”

You drop another kiss to Draco’s mouth before hoisting your bag onto your shoulder and departing from the Great Hall.

Draco shakes his head at your retreating figure; something about you was off, but he couldn’t place his finger on what. He wasn’t going to pester you as it would only make things worse, but he knew he had to address it before you lost yourself from overthinking.

Draco bites into his toast; already thinking of the ways he can talk to you.

----

Your days are always filled with little highlights; seeing the first flower bloom after a long winter or reading your favourite part of your book without being interrupted or it’s finding Draco waiting outside your classroom after every lesson of the day.

You find him waiting opposite the door to your class; leaning against the wall with his robes open, showing the white buttoned shirt underneath. His rebelliousness highlighted in the undone top button and untucked shirt. You shake your head as you make your way over to the teenager that made your heart stutter.

He grins, holding his elbow out to you, “Lunch, my love?”

“Lead the way.”

The Great Hall is loud upon your arrival. Students shouting, laughing, grabbing for food from the centre of the tables. It’s a ruckus, but it makes you smile as you take a seat across from Draco at the Slytherin table.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Draco asks with a frown at the sight of your plate.

You nod your head; your mother’s words from this morning making another round in your head, “I’m not overly hungry.”

The frown doesn’t leave Draco’s face, and through lunch, he glances between your face and the plate, wondering what’s changed for your appetite to have disappeared.

Draco walks you to your next class after the bell rings signalling the end of lunch.

He pauses outside the classroom, keeping a tight grip on your hand. His other hand reaches up to caress your cheek; a rare form of PDA from the Slytherin Prince who was more than happy to kiss and hold hands but would rarely show his feelings so openly.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong wouldn’t you?” He asks; concern alight in his eyes.

You hold his hand to your cheek; pressing a kiss to the palm, “I would.”

He nods silently. Kissing your forehead, Draco turns away, striding to his next class.

Guilt stirs within you like a lead balloon; weighing you down for the rest of the day. Even the ringing of the final bell of the day wasn’t enough to lift your mood.

Draco continues to meet you after every class; his arm always ready for you to slip yours through. But he’s quieter; more sombre as he leads your through the bustling corridors and staircases.

At the end of the day, he escorts you to the Great Hall. The level of noise quieter from lunch but still loud as students discuss their plans for the evening over the food laid out on the long, wooden tables.

Dinner is a feast by any standard, and Draco tucks right in, piling food onto his plate – ravenous after a day filled with exam preparation. You take your time with your meal; selecting more and more vegetables as you think back to the letter and diet regiment now burning a hole through your bag.

Draco sighs as he watches you pick at your food. He reaches over, checking your temperature with the back of his hand on your forehead, “Well you feel fine,” he murmurs, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve picked at your food all day, and you’ve become more distant as the day’s gone on.”

“I’ll talk to you about it in the common room,” You state.

“You will?”

Nodding, you promise,  “I will.”

Draco makes his way through the rest of the meal; drawing you into a conversation after conversation about how the day has been. When his plate is empty and yours has been pushed to one side, Draco stands from the bench. He takes one last drink of his pumpkin juice before holding his hand out to you.

The walk to the common room is quiet; you think over the letter in your bag, wondering about the reply you’re going to send back to your mother. One cross word from you and you wouldn’t be surprised if she, herself, showed up in Dumbledore’s office demanding punishment for your insolent words.

It was tiring, you realise, to be her daughter.

The Slytherin common room is silent when Draco leads you through the door; all students either still eating in the Great Hall or ambling about the castle. You settle on the black leather couch in front of the already lit fire; you hum at the warmth it gives off – holding your hands out to warm them through.

Once your hands are warm enough, you lean back into the couch. Feeling Draco’s eyes on you, you shift your head, facing him with a small smile.

Draco tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

You sigh, opening your bag and pulling out the letter. Handing it to Draco, you say wryly, “Dear old mama wrote, that’s what.”

Draco scans over the letter; getting to the three lines that have played on your mind all day and have affected your eating habits so quickly.

Draco folds the letter carefully into the three; he folds it ever so neatly before ripping it to pieces in front of your eyes, leaning forward and throwing the tiny pieces into the fire.

“I hope you don’t believe a word she’s written.”

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers, “Maybe I should stop eating so much.”

Draco leaps up from the couch; spreading his arms wide, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight – you do not need to lose, you do not need to gain. You are perfect the way you are. I love you to pieces, but darling, your mother is an awful person. What sort of person sends that to their child?”

He kneels on the ground in front of you, “I will love you no matter what. The sky could be green, and the clouds could be purple hedgehogs, but even that would not distract me from my love for you.”

He gestures to the pieces of parchment now turning to ash in the flames, “Everything about you is beautiful; from the top of your head to the tip of your toes – there isn’t anything about you I don’t adore. Reply to your mother if you must; tell her that you’ve let me read the letter and that I absolutely disagree with her words.”

Draco surges forward, kissing you soundly. He shifts slightly, beginning to press you into the couch, “I love you – just the way you are.”

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

#draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy fluff #draco fluff #fluff #hp fanfic #draco malfoy reader insert #comfort fic

[wlntrsldler]

I Want You To Love Me (James Potter x Reader)

PROMPT: hi, i finally did it. this is part two to tell me that you love me!

A/N: i do prefer the first part but i also enjoyed writing this. 

WARNINGS: angst?

WC: 3.7K+ (sorry again)

HP MASTERLIST

i’m doing a writing challenge! 

-

i want you to love me (j.p one shot)

“Y/N/N, let me in!”

You lifted your head from your pillow to speak into the distance separating your bed from your door, “Go away, Pads! I’m staying in.”

“You said that last weekend… and the weekend before that,” you heard Sirius groan from the hallway. He continued to bang against the wooden door, rattling the metal components of it, “We miss you, Y/N/N! Come out to Hogsmeade with us!”

“No, I want to stay in,” you yelled, falling back into the solace of your bed, “Sirius, please just go without me. I’m sure my less than happy attitude would kill the mood anyway.”

“I’d rather have the mood be killed than not have my friend with me.” 

You smiled a bit at his words. Sirius always did know how to cheer you up. A part of you wanted to give in and spend the day with your friends. You did miss them terribly, as you’ve done nothing short of avoiding them for the last month. You even went so far as to switching out of the classes that you had with them. You were surprised you got permission to do so, but you had to thank your long-standing and pleasant relationships with your professors for that. 

As you opened your mouth to agree to Sirius’ offer, you began to remember who else would be there— James. A month in isolation was not enough time to mend a broken heart. So you sunk back in your bed, pulling the covers up to cover your chest, and squeezed your eyes shut. 

You heard Sirius sigh, disappointingly, before his footsteps echoed down the corridors. You were relieved he gave up, at least for the day. You didn’t know if James had told them about that night, you didn’t really allow yourself to be in the same space as any of the Marauders for enough time to have a conversation beyond “hi’s” and “hello’s.” Sirius was tired of it, as was Peter and Remus, but Sirius took it personally. You two have built a good friendship over the years and he didn’t know what it was that caused you to pull away from them so rapidly and so out of the blue. 

He had a hunch. He figured it had something to do with James, as the boy flinched every time someone was to mention your name. Not to mention the way James had changed drastically, more subdued and mellowed out ever since the night of the party. He hasn’t chased after Lily since, and it puzzled a lot of people, Sirius especially. He had to hear about James’ incessant pining for years and all of a sudden, Lily seemed to cease to exist? Something wasn’t right. 

Sirius talked about it to Remus and Peter but the two boys were just as lost as he was. Nobody knew what happened that night between you and James. And although they all had their theories, most of them being absurd, James never talked about it to anyone, nor did you. So your friends were left in the dark, wondering and guessing what on earth transpired. 

It wasn't until an hour after Sirius’ supposed departure did you hear a knock on your door again. You groaned, not wanting to have this conversation twice in the same day. You sat up, “Go away, Sirius!”

Another knock. 

“Padfoot,” you warned, “Go away, please!”

He seemed to ignore your rebuttals, continuing to pound harshly on your door. You closed your eyes, pushing two pillows against both of your ears to try to drown out the noise, forgetting for a second that you were a witch with the knowledge of a simple spell to do the trick. When you realized that the pillows weren’t working, nor did he show any signs of stopping, you got up from your bed and marched angrily to your door. 

You swung it open, looking down at your feet. You huffed, “Sirius, I’m really not in the mood—” 

It wasn’t Sirius. 

James’ back was turned, evidence that he’d been pacing in front of your door after he heard your footsteps. When he heard the familiar creaking of your door opening, he turned around, an unexplainable look on his face. His eyes were brimmed red, like he’d been crying. His curls were tossed around, not neatly styled the way he always did them. James wore pajama pants and a fluffy sweater. It was unfair, really, how good he still looked even when he quite literally just rolled out of bed. 

The two of you didn’t talk, not one word. You just stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence. You became so aware of how you must’ve looked— pajama pants that went past the tip of your toes, a large hoodie that you were half-sure belonged to James once, and your hair in disarray from spending the entire day and afternoon in bed. Subconsciously, you hid behind your door, trying to hide yourself from the boy who watched your every move. 

The silence was deafening. It was awkward and uncomfortable. It was like neither of you knew each other anymore, like you didn’t spend years being friends or months being wrapped up in each other’s arms in the most vulnerable way. You stared at James Potter, not recognizing the man who stood in front of you. 

This man was unsure of himself, not carrying himself in the confident way that James usually does. His back was hunched over like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He looked small. He had this guard up in front of him and a face that you couldn’t read. This was unusual for the both of you. You weren’t used to not knowing James. 

You forced yourself to be okay with that thought as you stared him down, knowing that you had no choice but to accept that you two will be strangers to each other one day. Soon, even. But truth be told, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like not knowing him. 

You gulped, starting to close the door, little by little, in hopes he wouldn’t notice. At first, he didn’t. He was too preoccupied staring at your figure, your face, your being, that he didn’t realize that the door was shutting. When James finally did, he stuck his foot in the crack, right before you could close it. He hissed at the pain, but kept his foot there, not daring to move. 

“I miss you,” he finally said, breathing out every word, “And I-I won’t lie to you, I don’t know if there’s a word for what I’m feeling. I’m not even sure I fully understand it.”

James pushed the door open, letting himself walk in despite your silent protests. You walked backwards, stopping right before the back of your knees hit your bedpost. He continued to talk, looking down at his feet, distraught, “All I know is now I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop worrying about whether you’re alright or not. And I think I’m going crazy, Y/N/N.”

“James..”

“No, let me finish,” he shook his head, looking into your eyes. His eyes were clouded by tears making your breath get caught in your throat. He paced back and forth in your dormitory, “I haven’t slept in weeks because every time I close my eyes I just see you and I don’t know what it means! I’m so confused and I just— nothing makes sense anymore. I keep looking for you everywhere I go and I expect you to be there next to me and when you’re not, I just feel so empty.” 

You sat down on your bed, tears flowing down your cheeks. You twiddled with your thumbs in your lap, unable to look at James who stopped his pacing and stood in front of you. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t think you had any words to say.

After his rant, James looked at you. His heart ached as he watched you retreat to yourself, cowering after every word that he said. He ran to you, ignoring the warning signs that were flashing in his mind. “Y/N,” he whispered, crouching down to be eye level with you, “Please look at me.” 

You couldn’t do it. You gulped, biting your lip to stop the cries that wanted to escape. James wrapped his hands around yours, engulfing them in the familiar warmth you’ve missed in the time you were apart. He kneeled in front of you, his head hanging low. Neither of you said anything, the silence and the sounds of muffled cries bouncing off the walls of your dormitory. 

James began to shake softly, his chest rising up and down as his tears began to drop onto the floor. You watched the wood under your feet become pooled with his tears. He placed his forehead on your knees, his lips kissing the fabric of the pajamas you wore to cover your legs. 

“Y/N, I miss you. This month has been hell without you and the only thing that makes sense to me right now is that I need you in my life,” he sighed, lifting his head to place his chin on your lap, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“That’s not fair, James,” you sobbed, pushing him away. It took all your might not to scoop him up in your arms the minute you saw his hurt expression. You never once denied him, never once pushed him away, until now. You still couldn’t keep eye contact with him, his glossy eyes and trembling lips made you putty in his hands and for once, you wanted to put yourself first. You crossed your knees under your thighs, sitting uncomfortably on your bed, “It’s not fair that you just came in here and said all that.”

He sat in front of you, knees up to his chest. He respected your wishes and kept his distance, “Why?”

“Because I know what I’m feeling,” you stated, lips quivering. “I’m sure of what I feel and you can’t just come in here and say that you miss me without knowing what it is you feel! I don’t want to keep thinking that there’s something here when there’s not, James. It’s not fair to me.” 

“How am I supposed to figure out if there’s something here if I haven't seen you in a month, Y/N?” he replied, frustrated with the lack of communication between the two of you. “I haven’t seen you for weeks! You disappeared on me. I didn’t know what to think. The only thing I could think about was how I didn’t want you gone from my life. I tried, Y/N/N. I tried so hard to talk to you but you weren’t around anymore. I asked Minnie where you’ve been and she said it wasn’t any of my business—”

“Because it isn’t,” you interrupted. 

James rolled his eyes, ignoring your snarky comment, “The last time I saw you— if you even count that glance as seeing you— was when you helped bring Moony inside after the full moon. And the minute I tried to talk to you, you bolted! I felt like you didn’t want me around anymore and that killed me, Y/N/N.”

You felt a bit guilty, knowing that you did everything that he stated. You sniffled, finally getting the courage to look at him. James was staring at you intently, resting his cheek on his knee. His cheeks were squished, making him look so adorable with his red nose and messy curls. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes widening in realization. 

“Merlin, you haven’t even been in the Great Hall for meals! How do you get away with that? Have you been eating?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his worried tone, not expecting that to come out of his lips. James always did have a motherly instinct when it came to you and the Marauders. He was shocked at the sound of your laughter, the worry in his eyes subsiding for a second. He missed that sound so much.

A lopsided smirk appeared on his lips. James looked at you, quirking his eyebrow. His tone changed as he spoke again, “Well?”

“Well what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, dropping your smile. You remembered why you were in this conversation in the first place. 

“Have you?” he echoed, “Have you been eating?”

“I have.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. His voice never returned to his frustrated tone, as if that little moment between you two was enough to cure his broken soul. He awkwardly waddled closer to your bed, not bothering to get up as he inched to where you sat. James sent you a sad smile, “I missed you.” 

“James—”

“You know,” he interrupted, ignoring the way you wanted to roll your eyes at his antics, “The only times you’ve ever called me James was when I’ve pissed you off, or when I’ve done something, or when we’re talking about something serious. Which makes sense since we are talking about something serious right now—”

To push his buttons, you decided to do the same to him, “Does this lead to a point?”

“Yes, if you would let me talk,” James scoffed, a playful tone in his voice, “As I was saying, you only call me James when I do something... That night in the Common Room was the first time you called me James for not doing something. And Merlin’s beard, every night since then, I wished that I did.” 

You wore a puzzled look on your face, not understanding what he was saying, “What?”

“I wish I did something that night, Y/N/N,” he confessed, “I wish I didn’t leave you on your own. I wish I sat down and talked to you that night. I wish I kissed you when you asked me to. Something! I wish I did something instead of just walking away.” 

You stayed silent as you let yourself process his words. You didn’t want to feel the butterflies in your stomach, but when you realized that he regretted that night for the opposite reason that you did, you couldn’t help it. You regretted that night because you lost James. You lost the years of friendship and history that the both of you shared because of one too many shots. You swallowed your pride and asked him to kiss you so you could have something to remember him by, something to keep you connected with him, even if it was nothing more to him than a memory. 

He regretted that he walked away from you despite the growing ache in his chest. He shut out the rest of the Marauders, hoping that he’ll have enough courage to face what he was feeling for you, rather than hide away and cower behind his far-fetched fantasy with Lily. James regretted that night because he let you believe that you lost him when in reality, he was completely and wholly yours to take. 

“Y/N?” he whispered, focusing on nothing else but you, “Please, say something.”

“You can’t do that, Prongs,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes twinkled with glee when the nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. You blushed, embarrassed, “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

“Never apologize for that,” he shook his head, testing the waters by sitting down on your bed beside you. You didn’t push him off, which he took as a good sign, “Never break that habit either. It comes naturally to you and that’s what I want between us, Y/N/N. We fit together so naturally.” 

You closed your eyes, letting out broken breaths. You clutched your chest, feeling yourself crumble to his feet. James couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wrapped his arms around your shivering figure, only holding you tighter when he felt you stiffen under his touch. He cooed into your hair, sweet nothings that didn’t make any sense, but it was enough. 

James kissed the top of your head, letting you beat your knuckles on his chest in frustration. He knew he deserved this. He deserved your anger and your rejection and your denial. He deserved to be left for dust, as he did to you. But for now, he had you in his arms, and he’d take that over anything else in the world. 

You cried into his chest, “You’ve hurt me so much, James Potter.” 

“I know.” 

“It hurt so much to watch you run after someone else while I was just standing there, waiting for you to see me.”

“I know.” 

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about why I wasn’t good enough for you?” you croaked out, not having the energy to pull away from him. You stayed idle in his arms, except for the occasional wiping of the tears that stained your cheeks, “I know I’m not Lily but Godric, I thought I would be good enough for you.” 

“You are,” he replied, holding your face in his hands. James pulled you away, hoping that if you were to see the sincerity in his eyes, you’d see how much he meant it, “Y/N, you are too good for me. I’m the one that isn’t good enough for you. I’ve been such a fool.” 

“James,” you pushed him away, creating some distance between you. The few inches that separated the both of you might as well be oceans because James had never felt so far from you before. 

He reached out for you, a ghost of a touch caressing your hand before you pulled it away, “Please, stop pulling away from me. Y/N, I’m trying.” 

And he was. You could tell he was trying to figure out what it was he felt for you. He stared at you differently this time— not in the way a friend looked at a friend or the way he used to look at you with lust clouding his eyes. This time, this time was different. James stared at you in adoration, like if he were to be separated from you again, he would lose all his senses. His eyes yearned to look into yours, hoping that if he looked into the swirls of your eyes long enough, he’d be able to see the future he desperately craved with you. 

“I know you are,” you smiled, though it didn’t reach your eyes. You leaned over to trace patterns on the top of his hand. “And I appreciate that you’re trying to figure this out but James, like I said, I can’t be ten steps ahead of you. I can’t wait for you to figure out what you’re feeling for me while I watch myself fall deeper and deeper in love with you because I love you, James and I—”

James’ breath got caught in his throat. The minute those words left your lips, his other hand placed itself on top of yours. He squeezed it, “Say it again.” 

“What?”

“Say it again.” 

“Say what?” 

“Say that you love me again.” 

You shook your head, flustered that you confessed your unrequited love for him a second time. You tried to take your hand back but James held it in place, staring at the way your limbs seemed to melt together.

He spoke again after he realized you weren’t going to, “The night you told me you were in love with me, I felt something that scared me. At first I thought it was just shock and confusion, maybe, because I didn’t think you could ever fall in love with me. I stayed up trying to figure out what that feeling was in my chest because I couldn’t sleep, Y/N. There was this pressure in my chest that I’ve never felt before.” 

James locked his eyes with yours, “And when you said those words right now, I felt it again— that pressure, that something in my chest. Now, it makes sense. It all makes sense. You, your words, your love, is the only thing that makes me feel this way.” 

“What are you saying, James?”

“I’m in love with you, too,” he chuckled, breathily. His eyes pooled with his tears, the overwhelming feelings of realization too much for his emotions to handle, “I’ve been so blind all this time, trying to hide it behind an infatuation that could never and would never touch what we share— what we have.” 

“You can’t say things like that without meaning it. Just a few minutes ago you showed up saying that you didn’t know how you feel and suddenly because I said three little words, you have it all figured out?” 

“No,” he said, truthfully, “I don’t have it all figured out. I don’t know how I can make you trust me again. Or how I can show you how much I truly mean it when I say that I love you. Or how I can convince you that we can move past this. But those three little words helped me become more sure of myself than I ever have been this entire month and I would do anything for you to give me a chance to prove myself.” 

“I don’t want to get hurt,” you mumbled. 

His hopeful eyes wandered to yours, “I’d rather hurt myself a million times over than hurt you again.” 

Finally, after fighting thoughts, you gave in. You nodded, scooting closer to him. James let out a laugh, completely overjoyed that you found it in your heart to give him a chance. He wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you down onto your messy bed with him. He held you so close to his chest, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat and the way his chest rumbled as he spoke to you.

“Thank you,” he murmured. James caressed the side of your face. He inched closer, darting his eyes to your lips. He swallowed back his fears, taking a leap of faith as he asked the question, “Can I kiss you?” 

You found yourself lost in his eyes, lost in his presence. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the boy in front of you, the boy you loved who you watched love another. The boy who was now in front of you, staring at you in the way that you always craved. It took you a minute to find the right words. When you eventually did, you nodded, hovering your lips over his, “As long as it’s not the last time.”

-

TAGS: @littlegasps @sleep-i-ness @belledawnidk @heloisedaphnebrightmore  @chudleycanons @emcchi 

#frances writes #frances song fics #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter x yn #the marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #idk how to feel about this #kinda like it kinda dont? #never been one for happy endings #does this even count as a happy ending LOL

[imkylotrash]

Stubborn Love

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Request: I’m wondering if you good do one where Y/N is the twin sister of Pansy Parkinson, and Y/N and Draco have been in a secret relationship and Pansy finds out because she likes Draco and it causes some tension between the sisters. 

A/N I wrote in the update for this week that this was a crossover with Winx but it’s just HP, I read the request wrong 😅

Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​ @shadowhuntyi​ 

You don’t mean for it to happen. You know your sister likes him and you have every intention of staying far away from the blonde boy for that exact reason. But the universe has other plans. Every class is with him, you run into him during all free periods. At one point, you hide in the girl’s bathroom just to stay away from him. You don’t want to admit it but his smile makes you feel things you shouldn’t. The only time you find peace is evenings in the Hufflepuff common room. 

“I heard a rumour,” Cedric says dropping down next to you. He slams his potions book on the table along with his half-written paper on top of it. You keep quiet waiting for him to elaborate.

“I heard Draco Malfoy likes you,” he then says just as you’re reaching for your water bottle. You knock it to the ground from pure shock spilling the content all over the floor.

“Shit,” you mumble getting down on the floor to clean up when Cedric stops you. He waves his wand in front of you before magically drying off the carpet. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you and you’re not sure how to tell him that you have a thing for the one boy your sister asked you to stay away from but somehow, you manage to anyway. He doesn’t get it. Cedric hates Draco but he respects your feelings.

“You can’t make yourself unhappy because you don’t want to hurt your sister. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You make sound that sounds like something between laughing and choking. 

“Have you met my twin sister? There’s a reason she’s in Slytherin and I’m in Hufflepuff,” you say thinking of all the hexes she’ll use on you when she finds out you have a thing for Draco. 

“I’m sure she’d be happy for you as long as you’re honest with her.” And you know he’s right, it’s just you’re not ready to tell her. You don’t want to tell her in case nothing happens between you and Draco. But two months pass and suddenly, you’re in too deep. It’s gone from discretely looking in his direction to kissing him in empty classrooms and by the quidditch field when no one is around. You want to tell Pansy because she keeps flirting with him only to be rejected and you feel horrible for knowing exactly why he’ll never return her emotions. 

“We have to tell her,” you say one day as you and Draco are walking the grounds. You’re far enough away from the school to be brave enough to hold hands but you still worry someone might see you. 

“I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be with you and I want my sister to be happy for us.” You know it’s much to hope for but you can’t keep hiding your feelings. You deserve better than that and so does Draco. 

“I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t really care as long as I get to be with you.” He’s cute - far too cute for how you’ve always been told Slytherins are. You’d worried about Pansy when the sorting hat said she belonged in Slytherin but you had to admit that they weren’t all bad. 

“So, you’d be fine lying your entire life if it meant we could stay together?” you say jokingly but he just shrugs his shoulders not seeing the joke. 

“If that’s what it took. I don’t think of it as lying if all we’re doing is keeping it private.” You don’t know anyone like him who’s able to spin the truth however he wants it. You, on the other hand, feel horrible as soon as you think about lying. You once told a teacher that you couldn’t hand in your homework because a gnome from the garden had stolen it and you went to the bathroom and cried for half an hour. You hated lying and it made it so much worse that you had to lie to your sister, no matter how Draco spun it. 

“I want to tell her. Before someone else does.” And so, you agree to meet that night and tell her together but you wish you would’ve done it alone. 

“You’re dating Draco?” Her voice goes an octave higher for each syllable which would be pretty impressive in any other setting. Now, it just freaks you out. 

“We didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I tried to stay away but I couldn’t just ignore how I felt,” you say trying to reason with her but it’s no use. 

“I’m sure you tried real hard, you bitch.” You very rarely fight with your twin sister. You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve ever raised your voice at each other and it’s always been because you did everything you could to make her happy. She turned into the most horrible person when she was upset, you hardly recognised her. 

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Draco says. It’s the first thing he’s said since you sat down. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze to comfort you - an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Pansy. 

“I’ll talk to my sister exactly how I want to talk to her,” she scuffs before returning her attention to you. 

“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t break up with him right now. He’s meant to be with me.” 

“Doesn’t he get a say in this?” you ask weakly. You don’t want to break up with Draco, but you also know she’s deadly serious when she says she’ll never forgive you. You’ve seen her hold onto grudges for years at a time. 

“Well, you ruined any chance for me when you decided to claim him, didn’t you?” You know Draco is getting angrier by the second and it’s only a matter of time before he cracks and takes it all out on Pansy. 

“I didn’t claim him, Pans. He made a choice, and I’m really sorry but I thought you’d be happy for me.” You stand up painfully slow hoping she’ll stop you but she doesn’t. In fact, she doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the year. When Christmas comes around, you invite Draco to spend the holidays with you and your family. You don’t tell him but you have a tiny hope that maybe if Pansy sees you and Draco together, she’ll realise just how much he means to you. You had no choice in loving Draco. Stubbornly and violently, it had filled your heart and mind until you had no choice but to act on it.

“You invited him?” Pansy asks noticing his suitcase. It’s the first words she’s spoken to you since you told her about you and Draco and they drip with venom. 

“I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together all of us.” It’s the worst Christmas ever. Constantly, your mother has to stop Pansy from ripping into you and once you catch her trying to hex you but she misses you with mere inches. Your hands shake from anger but it’s not in you to yell back or try to retaliate. It must be possible to solve this without yelling. 

“I really thought it might change her mind to see you and me together,” you admit on the final night before you have to return to Hogwarts. Your parents are downstairs and Pansy has already locked herself in her room. Merry Christmas...

“She’ll come around,” Draco says wrapping his arms around you. When you go to sleep that night, you toss and turn feeling the toll of the fight hitting you. It’s just getting too much. You don’t fall asleep until 2 am and when you wake, Draco is gone. You walk towards the bathroom to brush your teeth when you spot the most peculiar thing. The window in the hallway offers you a perfect view of Draco and Pansy sitting in the grass talking. When they return, Pansy hugs you tightly. 

“I’ve been so horrible to you. Can you forgive me?” You’re speechless to say the least. Last night, she looked as if she were ready to bury the knife in your back and now she’s hugging you and asking if you can forgive her. 

“Of course I forgive you.” You hug her again locking eyes with Draco who’s watching with a tiny smile. When you finally get him alone, you press to find out what he said to Pansy but he doesn’t budge. 

“That’s a conversation between me and her,” he laughs as you pout. Half an hour of begging and still he refuses to talk. 

“It’s not fair, I’d tell you. I tell you everything,” you argue. 

“That’s because you’re horrible at keeping secrets,” Draco chuckles leaning in to kiss you but you refuse - at least until he tells you what he said to Pansy. 

“You can’t reject me like that. Kiss me,” he huffs with furrowed eyebrows and you just can’t help yourself.

“Watch me.” 

#HP Fandom #HP Crew #hp fanfiction #hp cast #hp #hp blurb #hp imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy gif #hp draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy

[hariosborn]

 sirius black fic rec list!!

okay but imagine having sirius black fall in love with you...a concept 😌

the feeling that we’re meeting again by @writesowhatnext

cross house relationships!!!!! literally yall are missing out if you project yourself into the same house as your lover!! you’re missing out on the tension, the passion, the romance!!! and once you get out of hogwarts and that tension is still there!!! post hogwarts sirius!!! hes so hot!!! and grumpy >:) you can never go wrong with slowburn fics!! 

the risk of love by @with1love1anu

ive been following anu for foreeeeeever and she never fails!! her writing is always so good and shes one of my favorite marauders era writers <33 you’ll see as you go down this list - but i love pining fics like im obsesssssed!! ooo and this one has a hint of best friend james and it just makes the story 10x better! 

breakfast in bed by @wondernimbus

when authors are 14 years old but can write flawlessly even though i struggle doing simple short stories in english class 😘not but fr ysa is such a good writer xx. breakfast in bed! what would yall eat 🤔if we’re talking abt english food (like food from england) idk what they eat over there tbh but i would pick roasted potatoes and waffles for breakfast :) wait actually no i wouldn’t, id probably do french toast with powdered sugar, strawberries, and french fries. ik it sounds weird but i had that the other day and i teared up, it tasted so good. but in this fic they have something even better!! have you ever wondered what it would be like to have toast, strawberry flavored muffins, and fruit for breakfast, all from the comfort of your bed, with the one and only sirius black? well look no further bc this fic has that and everything more!! 

godmother by @blisfvll

jen does it again!! coming through with the godmother!reader x godfather!sirius fics <33 (shes on this list three times bc she just writes so much good sirius content 😫) not to be morbid but when im gone i want someone to talk abt me the way sirius talks about the reader 😔i just love the way the sirius talked about her so lovingly and treated her like this ethereal being and painted her like this angel bc that must be so comforting for harry knowing that not only are his parents looking after him but his angel of a godmother is too ♥︎

oh shit + pt2 by @im-a-writer-right 

big brother remus am i right! as the oldest child, i love reading fics where im the younger sibling bc i just want someone to be able to look after me and care for me and be protective abt who i date bc they’re like “ i just don’t want you to get hurt” 😔 but anyways - this was a rlly cute and funny fic! i love snarky sirius and butthead james and overprotective remus and scared of falling for her brothers best friend reader :) if you like those all too you should read this one 😌

warnings by @blisfvll  

i felt like i was watching a short film! i loved this one! its so well written that you can like watch the play by play of everything happening in your head, like its sooo good! im sorry i keep putting so many angsty fics on this list 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 they’re just all so beautifully written and jen is such an amazing writer <33 

just a natural fact by @iliveiloveiwrite 

MILLIE!! YOU DID IT AGAIN!! guys if you are not following millie pls do i freaking love her sh*t and shes so far been on every fic rec list ive made :)) back to the review tho! im a very big fan of those timeskip fics like where theres a scenario for every year at hogwarts - and this one is one of those and i just - AGHHHGH!!! idk if this counts as a slowburn but like as someone who injects themself into the hogwarts timeline and pretends to be studying for her NEWTS when shes really doing AP work - i love reading about study sessions w remus where sirius tries to interject himself so he can be close to you 😊i dont want to spoil anything but like the tagline “Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break.” RUINED ME!! and you know what! i’ll do it again! i will read this fic and let it ruin me three more times and ten more times and however many i feel like! so yes, if you couldn’t tell, i love this one, and you guys should totally read it

die for you by @blisfvll 

i like to torture myself with sad fics so now im passing them along to you so we can all cry together ;( domestic life with sirius is something so very personal to me 😌so ofc i jumped at the idea of being harry’s godparent along w hubby sirius! but do not be fooled by my review - this one is sad - but its totally worth it!!! the things we do for baby harry am i right?? i am right 😌

wrapped around my finger by @remusishotterthansirius

jealous sirius jealous sirius jealous sirius!! oooo and when he growls >:)) i love the idea of being like this unattainable magical being in sirius’s eyes and you’re just like completely unaware of his feelings and it just adds to the mystery about you like imagine him sitting with the marauders by the black lake and him picking at a flower being like “she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not” and then him being all sad and pouty once the petals are all gone and he was left with ‘she loves me not’ :(( but  n e  ways - this was so cute and so masterfully written and i just love everything this author puts out so do not be surprised if you see at least one of their works on every single one of my hp fic rec lists >:))

misunderstandings by @imagineitup

oof this one really played with my heart! you know those fics where someones feelings are painfully obvious and you just want the other person to finally realize so they can both be put out of their misery and then go on to have this cute relationship BUT NONE OF THAT CAN HAPPEN UNTIL THEY COME TO THE REALIZATION THAT THEY ARE CAPABLE OF BEING LOVED!!! i love those fics and this is one of them :)))

thats all for my recs! sorry this ones so short - ive been drifting in and out of life, and school has been hard for me. there was a lot more to this list but a lot of my favorite writers have left tumblr so i dont have as much to share w yall 😔and theres obviously so many more amazing writers out there, im just sharing what i know! i’m thinking of just finishing up the other fic rec lists i have and then im going to move over to anime recs! ive been obsessed w haikyuu lately and theres a lot of fics i want to share with others - so if you guys don’t stick around for that i totally understand - but don’t worry im not making that switch till much later ✌🏼love you all so much! hope you’re all taking care of yourself, but dont worry if you’re not, its always a process so don’t put too much pressure on yourself to get stuff done and make sure to celebrate what you do get done! congratulate yourself when no one else will, and remember i’ll always be in your corner cheering you on! 

happy reading!

- love, hari !!

#harry potter #marauders aesthetic #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius and regulus #fanfic #fanfiction #fic rec #fic reading #reccomend me #fanfiction reccomendations #fic reccomendations

[a-simple-imagine]

The Smarter Witch

Synopsis: You like to consider Hermione your academic rival but things begin to fall apart between the two of you when Malfoy and friends start asking questions. The reader is in Slytherin sorry.

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader (can be read as romantic or platonic)

Words: 3.5+

A/N - I’ve been rewatching all the Harry Potter Movies at the cinema recently and I think i like it more now than I ever did before. This is my first HP story so go easy on me, okay? Comments are appreciated and requests are open!!

Warnings - Swearing, excessive use of the word mudblood... i think that’s it. 

"Granger," You call out, shoving your things into your bag as quick as humanly possible before charging after her. The crowd of other students growing the distance between you as you slip between them but not without almost crashing into people a bunch of times along the way. "Granger- wait." You try but she continues to walk away with Potter and Weasley beside her. You eventually manage to push your way through until you're walking in step with the trio. The girl stands in the middle, guarded by her two best friends.

"Hey," You offer them a smile, "Guess who got a perfect?"

"How?" It's instinctive to turn your nose up when it comes to Ronald Weasley. Not because of his social status like Malfoy suggests but you just found him rather... irritating. You completely ignore his question; breaking formation, you get ahead of the group and begin to carefully walk backwards so you can focus on the girl. She looked anywhere but at you, however, she had a smirk on her lips. Small but visible.

"Only because Snape favours you," The brunette proclaimed. This was routine for the two of you as of late. Always making excuses as to why the other came out on top. Only because of this. Only because of that. It was never as simple as just studying and doing well.

"You're just jealous that I'm a genius." You insist, your smile growing as you teased your own brilliance. Her head shakes a little.

"Since when were you, two friends?"

"Nobody said anything about friends Weasley-" You growl, your once happy expression morphing into one of pure distaste as you look at him. Spinning gracefully on your heel, you begin to walk normally again. "Since I'm so much smarter than you, I can help you study if you need it."

"I don't need any help from the likes of you, thank you," The likes of you? Did she mean a Slytherin? Or just someone who was smarter than her? Although you didn't actually believe you were smarter... well, not entirely anyway. Hermione Granger was often proclaimed as the smartest in your grade, didn't matter how hard you worked; you'd never quite be the promising young witch everyone seemed to think she was. Which is why you find yourself constantly competing. If you can prove to her you were smart then maybe everyone would see you as more than just a Malfoy crony.

You slap your hand against your chest just above your heart; stumbling backwards as if she just shot an arrow straight through. "Oh, how you wound me, Miss Granger. Care to share how well you did? One hundred percent?" She wouldn't have done badly at least not by everyone else's standard of bad. "Ninety maybe?" You turn back to them, coming to halt directly in front of the girl. "Merlin's beard Hermione, don't tell me you got less than eighty? That would be a travesty."

"if you don't mind, we're a little busy." She hadn't answered the question and as she walked around you, you expected she wasn't going to. "Come along Harry," she took his hand. "Ronald." And his before marching away. You watch them as they go, a smirk lingering before slipping off in search of your friends.

Come Friday afternoon and you found yourself in the great hall. The busy castle was beginning to calm and few people sat in the tables alongside the two of you. You take a sip of some water as you watch the gears in her head turn, debated her next move. At this point you already knew you would win; you always did. While everything else was more of a competition; Hermione Granger surprisingly wasn't all too hard to beat at Wizard's chess. Your Fridays together we're brilliant times to chat though, you'd often sum up any achievements from the week just to see who's doing better.

"I can't believe you beat me in history of magic again- I spent hours on that stupid essay. I basically lived in the library."

"I can help you study if you like," she offered, her eyes not leaving the board as she ordered her bishop forward. You watch as the chess piece moves along the board.

"You're not funny Granger," you tease, ordering your knight forward to take down her bishop. "Check,"

A paper ball hit the back of your head, drawing your attention away. Pansy stood with a wide grin on display, you ignored her and returned to your game but Hermione was also focused on your friend. "I think she wants your attention."

Another paper ball collides against your head. You sigh loudly before turning and mouthing 'what?'

"We're going down to the black lake? You coming?" She asked. "Or are you too busy with the Gryffindor?"

"just give me a sec." You wave her away, turning back to the other girl. "Have you moved?" She nods a little, her hair bouncing with the movements. You examine the board trying to figure out who she had moved but it didn't really matter. With a final move of your queen, the king was knocked off the board. "I do believe that is checkmate."

"I'm beginning to think you're cheating."

"Me?" You ask, pretending to be offended by the notion. "Never. How little faith you have me in, Granger."

"Slytherins are known for being cunning."

"We're not all cheating monsters, my dear sweet Gryffindor. Some of us actually have a conscience."

"I find that hard to believe," Her lips were curled into a cheeky smile. You'd never quite noticed the way her eyes crinkle when her smile is so big or how teethy it was. It was adorable. 

"I gotta go- same time next week? Maybe I'll even let you win."

"I don't need you to let me win,"

"You sure?" Nothing more than a harmless joke as you stand. "How many times in a row have I won now?"

"Slither away," Hermione smiles as you back away towards Pansy. You had to admit, you did firm Hermione to be intriguing.

Being in the same year, meant you actually saw Hermione rather frequently, however, your actual interactions were limited. Yes, you played Wizard's chess together every Friday but other than that, you basically only had very short conversations. It was like being in two completely different worlds simply because you were put in different houses. This school had a weird obsession with separation by houses. You were a proud Slytherin as were you friends but your ambition to branch out was often looked at as beneath some of the others. It was dinner time and you sat at the Slytherin table but your focus was pulled towards a certain familiar Gryffindor student. She just happened to be sat in your eye line, so you couldn't help but amuse her from afar. With funny faces and playful winks. Her most common reactions were shakes of the head or rolling her eyes but you knew secretly she enjoyed the teasing.

"Are you even listening?" A sharp elbow slams into your side. You bite back a groan as you shove the boy gently.

"The hell Draco,"

"What are you staring at?" There was a particularly bite behind his words but you'd grown used to how aggressive he could come across. He was always trying to be the alpha and frankly, everyone let him be. You simply shrug at his question; grabbing an apple and taking a bite.

"What did you want?"

The grey of his eyes flickers in curiosity as he tries to figure out what had you so distracted. When you look across at Granger, she's chatting to Ginny Weasley about something.

"Sometimes I wonder if the sorting hat got it wrong with you," He muses. "Should have put you in Gryffindor since you're so obsessed with Potter."

"Says the boy who never shuts up about him." You fight back. You couldn't care less about Harry Potter or his chosen one status. You knew Malfoy hated him though; it was a little weird just how much.

"You gravely misunderstand my interest in potter."

"I don't care if you have a crush on him Malfoy," There are a few snickers around the table but he's definitely not laughing.

"Don't be ridiculous." He growled, leaving the table. It was only a joke. You follow after him along with the others.

After dinner, you're lounging in the common room. One leg hooked over the arm of the couch as you read a book all about dragons. Fascinating creatures.

"So are you and the Gryffindor friends?"

"Who?" You question. Not even looking at the blonde as he sits down beside you.

"Granger." He confirms. "Pansy thinks you have a crush or something?"

"Pansy is a liar." The joke isn't as funny when it's against you. Your feelings towards Granger was nobody else's business but your own. You were often left conflicted when it came to her. You roll your eyes, sitting up straight. "I just like proving that I'm better than her."

"You spend a lot of time with her," Goyle adds.

"So?" You finally lower your book. Your brows knitted together in a clear frown as you scan the room. A few people had invited themselves into the conversation. "I spend a lot of time with you but doesn't mean I wanna get into your pants,"

"I don't know why you associate with any of them." This was beginning to feel like a lecture. Why do they even care who you hang out with? You didn't care much for the boys but you liked Hermione. She was kind, funny and really smart. You enjoyed the little time you ultimately spent together but if you admitted that, they would crucify you.

"They'd probably say the same about you lot," you state. Bringing the large book back up to cover your face. "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to read here,"

"You can tell us if you like her," Pansy contributes. "I mean we all know you have a soft spot for the weak."

"Are you taking pity on her?"

"Maybe she wants to start hanging out with Potter. Can you imagine?"

You grit your teeth, not at all reading the words on the page in front of you. They're just trying to get a rise out of you.

"I can't imagine anything more pathetic," Malfoy chuckles followed by a few of the others. "They're an embarrassment to the wizarding world if you ask me. Parading around like they own the place-"

"We're nothing okay?" You slap your book shut. "Not friends or secret lovers or anything, I would never date someone so.... dirty." The word slipped out before you had a chance to stop. You didn't see her that way; she was much too grand to be considered dirty. And you couldn't care less about pure bloodlines. It didn't make her any less of a fantastic witch. "I'm not joining Potter's Merry band of monkeys, so just drop it okay." Ignoring the snickers and hushed whispers, you march off to bed.

It's the Friday following your little session in the common room. You forgave them all of course; you always did. There was no point in being angry at them over some harmless teasing. You had the chessboard set up and even brought along a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans but she was running late. Normally it was you showing up late; very unusual behaviour from someone known for punctuality. But as time ticked on and you were still left alone, you began to realise she wasn't going to turn up. Packing everything up, you decide it'll be best to search for her; something bad must have happened for her to not show at all.

"Weasley," you shout, jogging up to Harry and Ron who seemed to be missing their third arm. "You seen granger?"

"Why?" Asks the redhead. Harry presents you with a smile.

"None of your business," you spit at Ron. "Have you seen her or not?"

"Last we saw her she said she was heading to the library," Harry answered. You offer a grateful smile but you can't help but wonder why she's decided to head to the library. Was there a test you didn't know about? Was she trying to get the upper hand? Surely she could have just told you that instead of having you wait.

"Thanks, Harry," You skip along to the library but the journey proves pointless when you discover she isn't there either. You would be lying if you said you had searched particularly hard before giving up though. There was always next week. With a defeated sigh, you head back towards the common room. Luck must have been on your side because you spot her on the way back. Perched on a ledge with her head in a book. Typical Hermione Granger.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," you announce as you walk towards her. "I thought we were gonna play wizards chess so I could annihilate you again." The faintest sniffle hit your ears and you froze. Was she... crying? Shit. You don't do well with criers; you never know how to handle situations when people cry. It's always so... awkward. "What's wrong?"

"Go away." Her voice is quiet but echoes through the empty corridor.

"Granger?" You closer to her now, leaning against one of the stone columns.

"I said go away," Her words are harsh; she shoves her face further into the book. Was she trying to hide the fact she had been crying? It was pretty obvious at this point.

"What's up with you?" You wonder, folding your arms over your chest.

"I don't want to talk to you,"

"What did I do?" The confusion is very clear in your voice. You'd hardly even spoken to the girl recently so how could you have possibly upset her.

"You're as bad as the rest of them, now leave me alone," Sharp words as she grabbed her things and stormed off. As bad as the rest of them? What did that even mean? Pushing yourself upright, you follow after her.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Just some filthy mudblood am I?" Venomous words spat at you with the speed of a viper. You stumble back a little; she's never been so angry with you. Tears spill down her rosy cheeks."Malfoy told me what you said- Guess I should have known better considering your so-called friends. You're just as cruel as the rest of them."

"Hermione..." you sigh softly. You couldn't exactly defend your fellow Slytherin friends. "Why do you believe him anyway?"

"So you didn't say it then."

"No, I did," you shrug a little. "Well I said you were dirty, I didn't say... that word."

"Mudblood- Same thing though right? You think you're so much better just because you're of Pure blood."

"I didn't say that, I-"

"Just stay away from me." Her tone has you backing down from the fight. You consider following her as she charges off down the hall but instead, you go back to the dorms.

"You're a right git," you exclaim, storming into the room, grip tight on the book you launch at his head. Platinum blonde hair darts of the way.

"What the hell."

"You told her?" All eyes are on you as you confront him.

"What are you on about?"

"Hermione- you told her I thought she was dirty."

"Your words, not mine." Draco shrugged a little. A huff of a laugh passing his lips which pissed you off even more. 

"I-," you look around, picking up a pillow and tossing it at him. "You are such a pain in the ass."

"Why do you care about that filthy mudblood, you said you don't even like her?"

"I don't even like you and yet we're best friends," You shout, looking at the coffee table you grab a mug and aim at the boy. Draco's hand shoots up in defense.

"Don't you dare throw that at me or I swear-" He fought back. You lower your hand and so does he then you throw it anyway, hearing it break as you collapse on the couch. "You don't need someone like that." He muses as he cautiously approaches the couch.

"We can't all be insufferable snobs Malfoy," you grumble, rather casually considering what just happened. "You mess up everything for no bloody reason"

"Probably shouldn't go around calling her dirty then," He argues. "I didn't make you say that..."

The boy hovers over the back of the couch and you shove him away. "I hate you."

You realise you have to be the one because Malfoy's not about to admit he did anything wrong. And you know at the end of the day it was your fault for saying it in the first place. You retire to your bed, no longer watching to deal with other people.

For the next week or so Hermione avoids you like the plague. You'd obviously see her in some of your classes but when you'd try to speak to her after, she'd rush out before you had a chance to so much as saying hi. If you managed to catch her gaze, she'd stare daggers; if looks could kill you'd be six feet under by now. You'd sometimes find her in the library, it was the one place she could cause a scene but neither could you. When you tried to whisper to her, she'd completely ignore you. You were beginning to miss the limited interaction you hard; Half the fun of studying was ultimately doing better than her in the end.

The girl was alone today, searching the shelves. The library was fairly empty and it was getting late. You take the opportunity to make some paper birds and send them fluttering over to her. One by one until she whispers yells at you to stop. You chuckle. Doing it again. This develops into a habit throughout the next couple of days. You'll send paper birds her way, just to get a reacting out of her. You start writing little messages on them too but you don't think she ever reads them before setting them on fire.

It becomes abundantly clear she's not giving in and therefore one day during breakfast you abandon your table and enter what Malfoy would consider enemy territory. Pushing Neville aside to sit next to Hermione. A bunch of lions look to you like you'd just entered their den without permission; in their defense, you never sit here. Hermione gets up to leave but not before you can grab her wrist.

"Can you please stop ignoring me," she yanks out of your grip, walking away to leave you surrounded by kids you've only ever spoken to in passing. You groan loudly.

"What happened between you two?" Ron asked.

"Do you ever keep out of other people's business Weasley or do you have some obsessive need to weasel your way into everything."

"Just tryna help, jeez."

"If you must know, Malfoy told her that I referred to her as a... y'know."

"Mudblood?" Harry continues for you.

"I called her dirty but I didn't mean it."

"Thought you weren't friends anyway," Ron wore a smirk like he caught you out or something so you just ignore him.

"Now she's ignoring me. I just want her to talk to me."

"Have you apologised?"

"How can I apologise if she won't bloody talk to me, Harry? I thought you were supposed to be smart." You comment, dropping your head against the table. "I've tried writing notes but she burns all of them. I'm running out of ideas, I can only be so charming."

"Can't really help you there," Ron replies.

"All the boys in this school are so bloody useless," you sigh dramatically, slamming your hands on the table to push yourself up. "You’re her best friends and you can't help? Pathetic."

You debate joining the others but you decide against it and leave the great hall. You're not hungry anymore.

"You really should stop sending paper birds," The voice catches you off guard, whipping your wand out before realising it's her.

"I'll stop if you talk to me again," You counter, lowering your wand.

"I'm not ashamed of my parents."

"And you shouldn't be." Your head falls, "I really am sorry for what I said, it was definitely a peer pressure thing and I was stupid." You blurt out. "Malfoy can just be a lot sometimes and I was trying to study so... I don't think you're less than just because your parents are muggles Hermione. Not even a little." You take a deep breath. "I just want my friend back."

She hesitates. "Oh, so we're friends now huh?"

"Only if you want to be," You shrug. There was part of you that wanted to say maybe you like her as more than that but you kept it to yourself; at least for now. "I understand if you don't like... I was really shitty."

"So Friday then?"

"What?"

"Wizards chess? I think I may be able to beat you now, I've been practising."

"Pfft not likely," You tease, your smile growing. "Friday sounds good."

// NEXT

#hermione granger #Hermione Granger x reader #hermione fanfiction #Hermione x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #emma watson

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without context

Miscellaneous Edition, for those quotable lines from between sessions

"All I wanna do, is fork a giant woman! A giant woman!" "Jonni, I'm pretty sure she is some type of undead, probably a vampire. Are you sure that is a good idea?" "If I don’t get turned into a blueberry it won’t be my worst date." "Okay, but if you have to defend yourself just don't burn the place down for once." "Oh, Nyx. Sweet summer child. I never make promises we both know I won’t even try to keep." "Jonni, if I wake up to my bed surrounded in flames again I'm short-sheeting your next bed every night for at least a month." "I know you're trying to score here, but Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are literally vampires AND bugs. I can overlook one, but as a Paladin, it is my sacred duty to burn this place to the ground and stir the ashes."

"We don't let Marshall make breakfast anymore." "Those waffles are well-fortified." "I'm going to be charitable and call it hardtack." "We can use these waffles as melee weapons." "Well if we need to deflect siege engines they'll be good to have." "This is still carbon based and digestible by human systems without any poisons." "I can't serve this. It'll cause ... death." "Marshal we've been over this. This Pizza has 10% less of a lethal amount of grease." "Plus they signed the waivers when they bought a ticket. It's fine." "And don't forget to push the Cakeon." "Cakeon being slices of cake wrapped in bacon." "The special sauce is a mixture of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, ranch, horseradish, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and anything unfortunate enough to fall into the mixing vat."

"You do have a copy of the legal code I requested in my letter? As landed gentry you should actually have legal avenues to... I'm sorry did you say Burning child?"

"First I'm going to nail a crossbow bolt through your heart. Then I'm going to mount your balls to walls on opposite sides of this chamber." "I need Three Barrels of Butter" "Are you serious? Those Claws could crush an elephant in full plate!" "You're Right!" *Turns to first person* "We might need more than three barrels of butter."

"So Ioun is the patron of poor college kids. that scans "

"its hardtack or a mug of molten cheese-fried... something in a woven mug of bacon. your choice."

"Welp, all this coke ain't gonna snort itself..."

"Right hand me that dress and the bail money. I'll get Jonni." OOC: Well I mean they allow men in the city. Its just no men live in the city. "I stand by my statement. I'm allowed to look pretty every now and then." OOC: And dragons are the most unprejudiced lovers of anyone after bards.

OOC: Well I mean come on, its Ravenloft: saying a place is of death and madness is like making the observation the day ends in y. "Going out. Getting laid." "Jonni, she’s a werewolf." "Going out, forking a werewolf." OOC: Well Lycanthropy isn't usually sexually transmitted. Its just that Mercedes is a biter. OOC: ...I don't have an appropriate response to that.

"You seriously think I’d turn on my friends for a pile of gold?!?" "sigh I’ll show you my tits. "Hot damn, let’s get these murders done!" "No, Jonni, stay good. Besides, there are plenty of other girls who will do that without asking you to murder us." "Hmmmm… this is the moral quandary of my life…" "I’ll give you five bucks." "Scales tipped!" "Phew, I thought I was going to have to cover her next trip to the topless bar." "No, no, I have the bail money right here."

Nyx: So what’s the inside of Jonni’s head like? Edmund (with thousand yard stare): Imagine every ladies only smut magazine you’ve ever heard of going on forever into infinity while everything is on fire. Food was good though.

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Vanilla is the king of flavors. What does it say about society where vanilla is considered just 'regular'?" "That they have a lot of vanilla." Lash: "Don’t you want wishes?" Jonni: "Do I need wishes to get to see you naked?" Lash: "No?" Jonni: "Fuck ‘em." Vesh: "Oh dammit its my arranged fiance." Pit Fiend: "Milady." Vesh: "An extra wish to whoever punches this douchecanoe in the nards." Jonni: "I wish…for Bigby’s clenched fist of nard punching."

Soth: "Oh, gods, why am I on fire and why is Immigrant Song playing?" Jonni: "Take a guess." Hazlik: "Okay, so its a partridge, stuffed inside a chicken, stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a turkey, and the whole thing is fried on a stick. Congratulations, that's the most horrible thing I have ever seen, and I once crossbred an elephant and an owl." "I give him the 'itis, and we run like we stole something." OOC: ...weirdly Curse of Strahd has stats for Strahd zombies but not Strahd Skeletons. Or Strahd's skeletal Steed. Strahd once went to a branding seminar hosted by Bane and it changed his life.

"Are we on a high enough floor that if I throw him through the window he'll be killed by the fall?" "Oh, but when I say stuff like that it’s all 'Jonni, murder is wrong.'" "When they say pick your battles they don't mean to pick all of them. That's too many battles Jonni. Put some back." OOC: He's technically already got a symbiote. OOC: They can get married. Gorbash: "I'm increasing the rent." Venom: "Can I keep the pool table?" Gorbash: "I'm not a monster." Giant Brain: "Jonni… I have summoned you here for… WHY AM I ALREADY ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT! PUT ME OUT!"

"Hello We're the party-crashers. This is Jonni, she's here to steal your women and burn your shit down. That's Nyx, she's going to repatriate certain items from the premise. Marshal over there, is here to studiously ignore our shenanigans. This is the New Guy. He seems pretty chill. I'm Gorbash... and I have been distracting you."

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly. Jonni: "Hold up. Trying to sex a spider." Nyx: (throws her hands up) And then Jonni wakes up with a spider venom hangover webbed to a wall waiting to be eaten. Jonni: "Eh, I’ve had worse one night stands. I’m not a fucking blueberry." OOC 1: Hey, where does your weed elf grow [her] crops? OOC 2: She probably just grows them in the room she hasn’t paid rent on. OOC 3: Because I was also considering a circle of spores druid tortle. OOC 2: We could be partners! We could turn this into road to el dorado staring Cheech and Chong. OOC: Wait, I just realized five people are hanging out in a pirate bar, and none of us are rogues. We are gonna need someone to get thieves tools. OOC: We have a barbarian with a big stick.

"Are we Foxhound now? Blunderbuss Octopus." OOC1: You want to put the stoner in charge of food. OOC2: Eyup. OOC1: I see no way this can go wrong! OOC3: We need the four basic food groups. Beans, Bacon, Whisky, and Lard. “We pray to Almighty Darkseid! Give us a sign! Thumbs up, for the triumph of the human spirit! Thumbs down to begin the everlasting reign of darkness!” “Where did you find this guy?” “Me? I thought you hired him.” OOC: Yup, nature, arcana, history, investigation and religon at +6. MJ got baked and watched the Discovery Orb a lot. Tordek: "But we have a cleric, Jozan, over there." Strahd: *sigh* Snaps fingers, and suddenly one of Strahd's brides sucks Jozan out the window, cue screaming. "Oh look, you suddenly have an opening, how fortunate." Tordek: "We also have a druid...." Vadania: "SHUT UP, TORDEK!" Edmund: "I think the first order of business may be to discuss your Human Resources strategy..." Strahd: "I have a guy for that too."

"When someone as smart as him talks with himself, it's not crazy...They call it monologing." "I thought it was soliloquy?" "No, soliloquy is when you're talk at someone else when your talking to yourself." "Most people would run from a demon, you run towards it to study it." Professor: "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! A FROGHEMOTH, AND RIGHT UP CLOSE, IT WILL BE AMAZING TO SEE THIS PERFECT KILLING MACHINE IN ACTION." OOC: Also note the Professor is Lawful Good, Archie is Chaotic Good, so collectively they balance out to Neutral good. OOC: That's good. "The incinerations will continue until morale improves!" “You never incinerate the women!” “Because I’m fucking them!” “I… was not expecting you to be so honest about that…”

"You got what you wanted....but you lost what you had...." "Yes, I'm familiar with how capitalism works."

OOC: Dragons are like, “That’s Krandor the shiney. He only fucks other dragons. Weirdo.”

Gorbash: "D'awww, so tiny... perfect size... FOR PUNTING!" *boots tiny mind-flayer into the horizon*

"Dracula hasn't been spotted in almost recently. Whats he gonna do, destroy all we know and love like he definitely can?" "... my god you people are too stupid to live." "What are you doing in my house?" Gorbash: "...well Edmund has been reading your books, I've been sorting through your armory, Nyx and Irost has been going through your other shinies, Marshal has been cleaving anything monstrous that gets too close, and Jonni has been lighting things on fire to stave off boredom." Gorbash: "Okay Marshal, Jonni. Rock, paper, scissors over who gets [to kill] the bishop."

Jonni: "Did you really think this would make up for what you did?" Nima: "I… killed everyone you grew up with." Jonni: "Yeah, and I’m still not forgiving you for what you did to Eddie." Nima: "I am missing some key context here…" Nima: "Also I committed identity theft on you by having my new undead army tell everyone you are running the show." Jonni: "Oh, no. You’ve fooled the boar tribe. Who still haven’t figured out shitting in a hole." Nima: "Yeah I noticed that. I ruined two pairs of shoes attacking their camps."

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft #castlevania #resident evil village #ooc

[panda-noosh]

fire and ice {Draco Malfoy x Reader}{pjo x hp crossover}

Words: 21k {:))))}

Summary: Wizards and demigods don’t get along. So what happens when the Malfoys are forced to stay at Camp Half-Blood?

Genre: angst - pjo crossover!!!

Notes: ask me about commissions! - masterlist - AM I SORRY? ABSOLUTELY NOT. this has been brewing in my brain for literal ages and i’ve finally snapped and just done it. might do more. who knows? certainly not me. 

----

Lucius Malfoy hates demigods.

   Everyone knows it. He doesn't make it a secret. He doesn't listen to the people who tell him – time and time again – that demigods and wizards aren't even meant to mingle, that him bringing their name into every press conference, every public appearance, every meeting, is doing nothing but spurring a fire that should never have been lit in the first place.

   He's at it again, though, because of course he is. That man never knows when to leave well enough alone, especially concerning business that has nothing to do with him.

    Today, his words are just as harsh as they were yesterday. The newspaper quotes him saying demigods are nothing but scum, mistakes upon the world. He has claimed plenty of times that not a single demigod was a planned child, that no god in their right mind would ever conceive with a Muggle.

   “What the fuck is a Muggle?” Percy asks.

  You shake your head, eyes narrowed at the black and white words. They jumble together, as they always have done, but you're still capable of making out the bare bones.

  Lucius Malfoy really, really hates demigods.

  “This guy is on drugs,” Percy continues. “Who's gonna be the one to tell him we're all literally just vibing over here in camp?”

  “I think it all comes down to jealousy,” says Annabeth.

   “Jealous about what? He's a fully grown wizard – he could wipe us out with one flick of his wrist if he wanted to.”

  “You underestimate us.”

  Percy scoffs. “I saw Will nearly fall into the fire the other day; there's absolutely nothing here Lucius Malfoy needs to be afraid of.”

  And you see his point. Of course you do. Being a demigod yourself, you have the utmost confidence in the fact that Lucius Malfoy could, indeed, probably wipe you out with nothing more than a brief thought. Gods only know he's wanted to for as long as you've heard his name.

  Nonetheless, this acceptance doesn't stop you from thinking about what it would be like to really stumble across the man who seems to be all talk and no action. Never once have you heard a story of wizards attacking demigods, nor vise versa. The two clans stay far apart from one another for reasons that have been made abundantly clear in the newspapers; they will just never get along. Two clashes of power like that will leave the world rumbled, and many people hurt, and it's better off to avoid that when you can.

  “We should track this Malfoy bloke down.”

   The words have fallen from your mouth before you've even fully registered they are what you wanted to say. Both Percy and Annabeth pause mid-argument, Annabeth nearly snapping her spine with how fast she twists in her seat to look at you. You flick your eyes up from your plate of roast beef and give a tiny, timid smile, as if shy that you even made such a suggestion.

  “You're joking,” says Percy, before turning to Annabeth. “They're joking, right?”

  “They're definitely joking.”

   “I'm not.”

   “Well, you need to start joking before I bring Will over here to make sure you're not running a fever or something-”

   “I'm serious!” You gesture towards the fire, where the newspaper can still be seen curling amongst the flames. “Have you guys not been reading the amount of threats he sends us every time he gets a chance? What if he's serious?”   “I doubt he's being serious,” Annabeth says, though there's a wobble in her voice that tells you she perhaps doesn't fully believe her own assurances. “Isn't it a crime in the wizard world to – like – murder innocent things?”

  “I'm pretty sure there was an entire space of time over there where people were just murdering each other,” Percy responds.

  Annabeth pales.

  “See what I mean?” you continue. “Besides, it's getting boring here.”

   Percy blinks. “Boring?”

   “I'm bored. I just want something to do, for Gods sake. Chiron's keeping such a tight leash on us-”

   Percy throws his hands up. “Oh! I wonder why!”

   “You two even said a few days ago that you miss being out and about, doing stuff, saving lives-”

   “I never said that,” Percy argues. “In my opinion, I've had enough saving lives to last me a lifetime.”

  “Weak.”

   “Coming from-”

  “Okay!” Annabeth snaps. “Enough. This conversation is officially over.”

  You pout, folding your arms over your chest like a child having a tantrum. Percy laughs at your expression, giving your nose a playful tap that does nothing but infuriate you further. It's been like this for weeks now – short tempers, boredom, an unease that can only be put to rest when you're out and about, doing what you do best.

   Maybe it's the ADHD. Maybe it's the godly blood running through your veins. Maybe you're just too curious for your own good, but you want to find Lucius Malfoy and just talk to him. You want to see if he's as tough in person as he makes himself out to be on paper. You know you're not much to look at, nothing more than a teenager with interesting parentage, but maybe that will be enough to get your questions answered – why do wizards hate demigods so much?

  Annabeth cuts the conversation short any time you try bringing it to life again. She's a master at changing the subject, sometimes deciding to just talk over you about a completely different topic. Eventually, Percy's laughter and Annabeth's avoidance is enough to make you shut up, and soon you're just sitting there, listening to Annabeth talk about the recent Athena cabin shenanigans she bore witness to a few nights previous.

  Dinner finishes, and the tables split back into their cabins. Annabeth gets lost amongst her sea of siblings, giving you and Percy a wave before she disappears for the night. You and Percy walk in silence for a little while, before you split off to your own respected cabins.

  Alone.

  Sleeping on your own has never bothered you before. It's all you've ever known. You were born an only child, your mother having lost her mind shortly after giving birth to you, your father never being around due to the complicated fact he was a god.

  Is a god.

  Sometimes it shakes you to think your own father will undoubtedly outlive you. Hades is sat on his throne somewhere, watching you do all these things in his honour, knowing full well he will one day have to watch you die. He might be by your bedside as your heart beat gradually comes to a halt in your sleep.

  More likely, he will be sat amongst his godly brothers and sisters, watching you fight on the battle field, catching the very moment a sword pierces your chest and you bleed out with no one to help you, no one by your side, no one caring.

  You shake the thought from your head as you reach your cabin, a large, black painted building with a skull and crossbones over the door. It's a lonely place, but demigods are lonely kids, so it kind of fits, and you've never seen any problem with facing the truth.

  As soon as the door closes behind you, you grab your notebook and pen from beneath your pillow. It's been a long time since you wrote anything, considering you've been too tired to even properly function these days, but tonight, your thoughts are heavy, and you need to find some way to let them loose. You sit cross-legged on the uncomfortable camp bed Chiron provided you with all those years ago, and start scribbling.

  Just random sentences, things that probably won't even make sense when you wake up tomorrow morning, words that don't even go together, but are just popping in your mind every few seconds. You've always called it poetry, but it's on thin ice. You let nobody read it, considering you know how bad it is, how weird it is. You can honestly imagine someone reading it and immediately expressing concerns for your mental stability.

  But it distinguishes that weight in your brain. It makes you see sense for a bit, pouring these words onto paper before closing the notebook and stuffing it beneath your pillow. You won't have to read them again if you don't want to, and that's the best part; it offers a moment of bliss, but there are no strings attached. All is well. All can be ignored if you want it to be.

  ----

  It takes weeks for the subject of Lucius Malfoy to arise at the dinner table again.

   Annabeth has been fighting it off. The demigod has known you for far too long; at this point, all she needs to do is take a glimpse of your face, and immediately she knows exactly what is going through your brain. It's like a sixth sense to her, and it gives her the perfect opportunity to change the subject before you can so much as utter the word Wizard.

   Percy notices the tension, and finally snaps.

  “Are you still thinking about what Lucius Malfoy said?”

   Annabeth groans, slapping Percy on the arm. “I told you not to bring it up!”    But your attention has already been grabbed. You straighten up in your seat, grinning from ear to ear as you say, “So can we go?”

   “Give me a break,” Annabeth grumbles, dropping her head into her hand. “We're not going to visit Lucius Malfoy. We don't know the guy.”

  “He doesn't know us.”

   “Good.”

  You lean across the table to flick Annabeth's forehead. “But he still insists on talking about us to whatever freaky wizard press he has special ties to; I just want to see him, Annabeth! I just want to – like – mess with him a little bit!”

  Percy laughs, nudging Annabeth's elbow. When he speaks, it's through a mouthful of noodles. “I actually think our Y/N is on to something.”

   “Thank you, Percy.”

  Annabeth's head shoots up, a pale spot in the centre of her forehead where you flicked her. “No! No, this isn't even up for debate. Chiron will kill us if he knows we're even talking about it.”

   “No he won't,” you reply. “Chiron trusts us. He's seen us do all sorts, and it's not like I'm asking you guys to go and risk your lives for me. We'll go and talk to him, get his side of the story, and then we'll-”

  “It's honestly like you think I'm stupid.”

  You freeze, fork hovering halfway to your mouth. “Come again?”

   Percy laughs, failing to stifle it behind his hand. “You've only gone and woken the beast, Y/N.”

  “Shut up.”

  Annabeth sighs, running a hand over her ponytail. “I've known you since we were seven years old, Y/N – I know what you're up to. You'll never just talk to Lucius Malfoy. You'll get there, and you'll have to taunt him, and jeer at him, and put a stink bomb in his bathroom-”

   “That's the oldest trick in the book – I'm better than that.”

  “But you know what I mean!” Annabeth shakes her head. “You'll get carried away, and we know what happens when you get carried away.”

  Your stomach dips. Even Percy's bright smile falls, replaced with a grimace the two of you share. It's a low blow, and Annabeth knows that, but she also knows better than to make it out like you and Percy aren't two of the most unpredictable demigods to walk on Camp Half-Blood soil.

  When Annabeth next speaks, her voice is softer. “It's just too risky.”

  “Since when did you start being scared of a little confrontation?”

  Percy's voice startles you from your momentary reverie. Both you and Annabeth snap to attention, turning to look at your friend with raised brows; suddenly, he doesn't look like the happy-go-lucky, always bantering kid he usually is. His expression has darkened, jaw set and eyebrows lowered so his blue eyes look darker than normal. He can't even bring himself to look you both in the eye, instead choosing to keep a firm glare on the noodles and rice in front of him.

  “What do you mean?” Annabeth asks. “I'm not afraid of confrontation. My scars can vouch for that.”

   “Right, so why is Y/N's suggestion so scary to you?”

   You blink; this was certainly not the direction you were expecting the conversation to go. Annabeth and Percy bicker like cat and dog, but there's never been any malice in it. Now, listening to Percy, you can hear the genuine hurt in his voice, and you know her previous comments about getting carried away have actually struck a chord in him.

  Annabeth stares with her mouth agape, clearly unsure how to respond. She must sense the tension, too, must realise she has said the wrong thing.

   Still without looking up, Percy says, “I agree with Y/N; we need out of this camp for a little while. We need to do something. So why not have a little road trip to visit the man himself, huh? Why not get our questions answered?”

  “Percy....” Annabeth flicks a desperate glance in your direction, but you're not inclined to intervene when Percy is like this. As someone who has experienced the difficulty of controlling powers that you have been forced to ignore for a grand number of years, the last thing you want to do is provoke Percy any further than Annabeth has already managed to do.

   “I'm bored, too,” he continues. “And, to be honest, I'm getting pretty tired of them wizards thinking they can say whatever they want about us. It's about time we let them know they're not better than anyone just 'cause they wear them stupid robes and have a council.”

  “So what are you saying?” you pipe up, excitedly. “You'll go with me?”

   Percy shrugs. “I don't see why not. It'll be a bit of fun, won't it?”

   You cheer, throwing your hands in the air before catching a glimpse of Annabeth's angered expression. Your cheer immediately drifts away, and you let your hands fall to your sides before mumbling, “You sure? 'Cause, I mean, we don't have to.”

  “No, we're going,” says Percy, staring right at Annabeth. He has a death wish. That is the only explanation you can come up with right now. “It'll be fun, as you said.”

  Annabeth's nostrils flare. She says nothing else, simply sends one final glare to Percy – as if you're not even present – and stands up, marching away before dinner has finished.

   Percy huffs, slumping back in his chair. “Where does she get off telling us we get carried away?”

  “I mean, she isn't wrong, Percy.”

  Percy scowls. “I don't think that's very fair.”

  “You're in denial.” You plunge your fork into his noodles, using his distraction to steal some food for yourself. “But we're going to visit Lucius Malfoy! That'll be fun!”

   “I only said that to make Annabeth angry.”

  “I know, but a promise is a promise. We're going, and we're gonna have a fantastic time.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  Not even two seconds later, Percy squeals and jumps from his seat. “Hey! Don't do that!”

  You grin, willing the skeletons hand to let go of Percy's ankle and sink back into the dirt.

  -----

  You and Percy remember this so well.

  It's muscle memory at this point, standing in the Hades cabin in the dark of night, Percy having tip-toed over to your domain to indulge in some illegal shenanigans. When you were younger, this used to be a nightly occurrence, which is one of the main reasons you both share such dramatic memories; neither of you are capable of staying out of trouble for very long, and maybe this is the very reason why.

  It's so easy for you to go wherever you want. You could shadow travel out of Camp Half Blood without a second thought, exhaustion be damned, but you never do. You respect Chiron too much to go out of your way to disobey him, but tonight is an exception. Percy stands by your side, hands tucked into an oversized hoodie. He's pulled the hood on over his dark hair, shoving the tangled strands into his eyes, though he does little to fix this. Instead, he keeps his blue gaze on you and says, “How long do you think we'll be?”

   “Not long,” you reply. “A few hours. Maybe a little longer if you fancy a stroll around London before we head back.”

  Percy scowls, glancing over his shoulder at the window. Nobody is awake. Camp Half Blood has never been so quiet.

  “Stop worrying.” You grab the sleeve of his hoodie, ushering his attention back to you. “I know what I'm doing, Perce – you've been with me a thousand times before. You know I can do it.”

  “Last time you shadow travelled this far, you nearly died.”

  “I was younger then. I've had more practise.”

  “Enough to travel to London?”

  You grab his hand, the motion so familiar now it's almost second nature. “Let's find out, shall we?”

   You don't give life the chance to throw another distraction your way; you inhale in that way you always do before a lengthy jump, and then you let your mind empty of all rational thought. Your mind does not go blank, nor does it settle; for a brief spell, you feel insane. You feel utterly and completely unhinged as the dead cackle in your head, thrashing through your brain like dogs trying to leap a wire fence. Your thoughts are no longer your own, replaced instead by the thoughts of people who are angry at death, angry at their own fate, people who blame your father and all of his offspring for the way their lives turned out.

  It hurts. You're forced to watch their faces as they twist into expressions of pure agony, begging for a help you cannot give them, because they are hundreds of years too late.

  It stops once your feet hit the ground.

  You try to steady yourself just to give off the illusion that you're perfectly fine, but your legs give out and you fall to your knees. Percy grabs your arm, but your body is limp as it slowly restores from the hectic ride that is shadow travel.

  “Never gets any better,” Percy grumbles; even he is a little uneasy on his feet, swaying to and fro. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” you belch. “Are we in London?”

  Percy looks up. You follow his gaze, warmth immediately flooding your stomach at the sight of a job well done, because the two of you are amongst the unmistakeable sights of London.

  It's a bit disappointing, you won't lie. Pictures in newspapers always perceive England to be this sophisticated, well-lit place, bustling with people dressed in suits and expensive clothes. Instead, you're greeted by a dark city street, broken street lights flickering overhead, people bustling by with their heads down, wearing track suits.

  In the distance, someone yells, “Come on, mate!” and it echoes off the cobbled stone walls.

  You and Percy share a glance.

  “Maybe we just expected too much,” he says.

  “Probably.”

  He hauls you to your feet, keeping a hand on your arm just in case you end up toppling over again. Through the darkness, you are just able to make out the peak of a large house in the distance. It's straight from a horror movie in your opinion, made up of dark cobbles, a golden fence adorned with spikes to keep the Muggles from entering; the word itself is nearly enough to make you laugh, though the sight of the house keeps you quiet.

  You and Percy approach the gates timidly, his hand still on your arm. “Is this the Malfoy house?”

  “I think so,” you whisper. “It looks like the pictures we always see. It's what I was aiming for, anyway.”

   “Good job, soldier.”

  “Thanks, boss.” You pause, craning your neck to get a better look at the house. “How do we actually get through the gate?”

  There are lights on in at least four of the rooms, a shadow passing by a curtain that looks tall and slim, gliding more than walking. You grab Percy's arm and point, whispering urgently, “That must be him! Lucius!”

   Percy ducks his head down and laughs. “Okay, okay. Let's just climb the fucking gate and get everything set up.” He glances at you. “You're sure you're up for this?”

  “I've never been more prepared for anything in my life.”

  Together, the two of you scale the metal gate, using the upper body strength you have gathered from years of training at Camp Half Blood. You're over and in this strangers garden in a number of seconds, sprinting through the grand garden before suspicions can be roused. Around you, white peacocks look up from their grazing, though none of them make a sound to give away the presence of two strangers.

  You reach the fountain and duck beneath it; this is where Percy needs to be if he wants to succeed in his part of the plan. He crouches beside you and hovers his hands over the water, not even giving you a warning before he uses his powers to pull the water from the concrete fountain. It sprays across the garden, and that's when the peacocks start to scream.

  Water splashes against their feathers, startling them. You can barely hide your laughter at the sight of them springing up from whatever peaceful graze they were involved in beforehand, now darting around the garden like someone has plucked a feather from their flesh.

  Percy shoves your arm. “Stop laughing and get on with it before they come out!”

   You push past the distractions and focus your energy on your own powers. Your exhaustion makes it all a little bit more difficult, but the image of the final product is enough to have you pushing the exhaustion aside just to reap the benefits of this. Inside yourself, something pulls, and it's familiar, uncomfortable, but it has the effect you want. Almost immediately, a skeletal hand darts from the ground. Just one for now, but you wait patiently before making the next one erupt.

  The front door of the Malfoy house bursts open, and standing there is no other than-

  “That's not Lucius,” Percy says.

  “It definitely is not.”

   The person standing in the doorway cannot be much older than you, with snow white hair and a sharp face. His eyes, blue and cold, are wide as they take in the sight before him, his wand clutched in a trembling hand.

  “You said you saw Lucius in the window!” Percy hisses, struggling to reel the spray of water back into himself.

  “I thought it was!”

  “For Gods sake.” Percy grabs your arm and drags you up, no longer caring about being seen. However, you stumble as he runs, dragging you along behind him, because the sight of the boy is distracting; he looks terrified, like he was expecting something completely different, like he thought someone was finally coming to take him away.

  You recognise the expression only because you've worn it yourself so many times; growing up as the child of Hades leaves a lot of scars and a lot of fear on a person, considering your father certainly isn't the most liked individual upon the Olympians.

  As Percy attempts to drag you back to the gate, you glance over your shoulder. The boys blue eyes glare into your own. He has seen you.

  And nothing can really prepare you for what happens next. You don't know enough about the wizarding world to expect this, but the feeling is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Someone yells in your direction, and then something is crashing into your spine, slithering along your neck, giving you not a single chance to react before the world goes still and you drop to the floor, no longer processing a single thing happening around you.

  ----

  “Would you just wake up?”

  The voice is posh and annoying. It makes you want to laugh.

  The pain in your spine stops you from doing such a thing, however. Instead, you slowly rouse from sleep, met by the blinding lights of a room unfamiliar. You lay on a bed fit for a king, soft pillows engulfing your sore head, thick mattress swaddling your body like a newborn baby.

  And standing above you is a boy you remember seeing only vaguely; pale skin, snow white hair, a grimace that shows he perhaps isn't too happy about having you in his home.

  You stare at him a moment, willing him to make the first move. Maybe if he starts the conversation, you won't have to go into too much detail about why you're actually here, because despite the glitches in your memory, that is something you remember very, very well.

  Running across his lawn, thinking you were clever because you and Percy were finally going to give Lucius Malfoy a piece of his own medicine.

  And now Percy is gone, and you're trapped in a strangers house.

  The boy stood above you, however, says nothing. He looks almost nervous, eyes flashing between you and the door, like he's planning the easiest way to flee if things reach that point.

  Finally, you snap. “Hello.”

  He jerks away, nearly stumbling over a stool by the bedside as he does. “Oh,Christ. Hello.”

  “I didn't mean to scare you.”

  “You didn't – I'm not scared. I just thought you were still Stunned.”

  You blink. “Stunned?”

  “I Stunned you.” He pauses, biting his lower lip. “It was the only way I could think to get you to stop running.”

  “Is that some kind of spell?”

   The boy waves a dismissive hand. “The point is, you were in my garden earlier. If my father had been the one to see you, he wouldn't have hesitated to curse you and call it self defence.”

  His father.

  Something rushes through your stomach, an excitement that doesn't really make sense. All has failed. You're going to go back to Camp Half Blood and be chastised, probably brutally punished, for the choices you made tonight, and yet here you are, overjoyed at the mere mention of Lucius Malfoy, because that's the only person this boy must be talking about.

  “You look a lot like him,” you say.

  The boy narrows his eyes. “My father?”

  “Lucius,” you clarify. “He lives here, doesn't he? He's the one Percy and I came to see.”

  The boy slowly leans back in his chair; it's quite cute, actually, that he dragged a chair into this room just so he could sit over your Stunned body. Maybe he was making sure you didn't die. Maybe he just didn't trust leaving you on your own.

  “What business could you possibly want with my father?” he asks. “You must be my age. What year are you in at Hogwarts? What House?”

 You smile. “I don't go to Hogwarts.”

  He reels back. “Really? Are you from a foreign school? Beuxbatons?”

  “I don't go to your fancy magic schools. I'm not a wizard.”

  The boy blinks. It never ceases to baffle you the pure ignorance of these people – how they can grow up in a world completely detached from everything and everyone, and yet are still unable to fathom the idea of anybody being different.

  “If you're not a wizard, how did you make the water fountain do that?”

   “I didn't. Percy did that.”

  “Who is this Percy bloke you keep going on about?”

   “He's my friend, the one you apparently let get away.”

  The boy raises a brow, glancing over at the window as if expecting to see Percy just standing there; honestly, you wouldn't even be surprised.

  He turns back and says, “So your friend is a wizard? Are you a Muggle?”

   He's taking an awfully long time to catch on.

  “No,” you reply, exasperated. “Neither of us are wizards. We're from New York – a little place called Camp Half Blood.”

   And for a second, the revelation doesn't land. The boy continues staring at you like you have three heads, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed. But then the ball drops, and he jerks back, the chair dragging in the carpet with the speed at which he jumps to his feet. He looks almost horrified.

  “Alright,” you mumble. “I'm not going to bring Zeus down here personally. He's a bit busy-”

  “How did you even get here?” he hisses. “Are you an assassin? Is that why you were looking for my father – so you could kill him?”

  “Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm a demigod, not a murderer.”

  The boy looks at you like he doesn't think there's much difference between the two.

  This angers you. Something in your stomach burns, and suddenly, the only thing you want to do is to get away from him. You want to go back home. You want to find Annabeth and hug her, tell her she was right, just as she always is. You don't like being in the company of wizards. You don't like being away from the people who understand you best.

  “Look, this was fun,” you say, pushing yourself up from the bed. “But I need to get going. I'm sorry about your fountain-”

  “Where are you going?” he demands.

  You pause, raising a brow.  “Why do you care?”

  “Because – Because what if you come back to finish my father off? I can't just let you go!”

  He must be completely oblivious. You have fought monsters taken directly out of storybooks, have argued and debated with Gods about things such as ice cream flavours and which way is the right direction to go on a road trip – the last person you have any interest in fighting with is some posh, uptight wizard.

  “Look,” you say, “all I wanted to do was mess with the guy. He's been saying some pretty harsh things about demigods lately, and Percy and I just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. I don't want to murder your father.”

  The boy stares at you. He's powerful, too. You know he is. You can see his wand sticking out of a deep pocket in his emerald green robes. One flick of that and you're a goner, and yet he chooses to just stand over you, eyes burning holes into your head.

  “What's your name, anyway?” you ask.

  He tenses. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

   “Sounds evil.”

  “It's a strong name.”

  “Right.” You flick your eyes to the clock hung upon the wall. “Can I go now?”

  He sighs and backs away from the bed. “My father would kill me if he found out I was letting you go.”

  You stand up, knees trembling from the aftershocks of having a wizards spell slam directly into your spine, but you manage to catch yourself before crumbling completely; Draco does nothing to help stabilise you, instead watching you with a thoughtful gaze, like he's preparing to attack at any moment.

  And it's weird. You know it's weird. You should not just be able to walk out of his house without a single consequence to your name. He should be holding you hostage, keeping you pinned to this bed until his grand old father gets home, and he can tell you off for trespassing, scaring the life out of his precious white peacocks.

  But Draco doesn't say another word as you slip out the door and barrel downstairs, suddenly desperate to be away from a world like this. It's weird. It's unnatural. They care about blood status, and they learn spells, and it's all just a little bit too weird for your taste.

  Even weirder is the fact that Draco is letting you go so easily.

  ---

  You arrive back at Camp Half Blood when it's light outside, and you know you've been caught.

  Wherever Percy may be, you do not envy the treatment he must be getting. You clamber up to the pine tree and look down at the camp you call home, not surprised to see people bustling back and forth already, Chiron included. He looks miffed, digging his front hoof into the dirt like a rabid animal ready to charge.

  That's kind of what he is.

  You hollow out your cheeks and stroll directly into camp, ignoring the startled gasps of the Half-Bloods. You'll deal with Chiron before you deal with them – that seems like the best way forward.

  Chiron spots you seconds before you reach him. He turns, dust billowing up around him before he says, “And where do you think you've been?”

  Chiron has always been a father-figure to you, Hades be damned. He saw you as a junior demigod, just growing into who you are, unable to fully process the fact that the man you always hated, the man you once believed to be a no good excuse of a father, was actually a Greek God who has spent his time watching you grow – just from the sky instead of on the ground.

  He treats you and Percy differently than everybody else. You're both feared for no reason. People shy away from you like you've been on some blood-lust streak your entire life, even though that's far from the case. When you can, you avoid using your powers, purely because you know how much people dislike them. They see them as unnatural. They think it's weird, despite them having abilities, too.

  “Hello, Chiron,” you mumble. “I'm very tired, so if you could just-”

  “We've had word from the Ministry of Magic.”

   You freeze, stomach dropping, certain you heard him wrong. The only wizard you actually made contact with was Draco, and surely he didn't go to the Ministry after letting you run free just like that?

  Chiron shakes his head. His disappointed look is more than you can bare. “What were you two thinking, Y/N? What did you think would happen?”

  “I – I – I don't know.” You look around desperately. “Is Percy here? Did he make it back safely?”

   “Percy's resting. He wanted to go after you, but Grover wouldn't let him, and thankfully so-”

  “I was fine. The boy I met – Draco -”

  “Draco Malfoy?”

  You falter. “Well, yeah. He spotted us and ended up Stunning me-”

 “Oh my gods.” Chiron runs a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky, saying whatever prayers he thinks will help right now, like the Gods have ever listened to any of you before. “You do realise that's Lucius Malfoy's son, don't you? The son of the man who wants our kind terminated.”

  “Draco wasn't like that,” you reply, even though you don't know why. “He let me go. He didn't even hurt me-”

  “You've just said he Stunned you!”

  “For, like, an hour! I was fine when I woke up! And look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't do the exact same thing if you could.”

    Chiron groans, turning back to the Big House. He starts walking without another word, forcing you to sprint after him.

  “Don't be mad,” you say. “It was stupid. I'm sorry. Chiron, I'm sorry. We just got bored-”

  “If children put their family's in danger every time they were bored, Y/N, the human race wouldn't exist.”

  He really is angry, angrier than you've ever seen him. It takes you back to your childhood when he used to tell you off for staying up too late, or getting out of bed in the middle of the night.

  You stumble after him, thankful that he isn't telling you to go away and leave him alone; that's one thing Chiron has always promised he will never do to you or Percy – he'll never just leave you alone.

  You walk into the Big House, side-by-side, and it's a mildly unpleasant surprise for you to see Annabeth already sat by Chiron's desk, her head in her hands, blonde curls framing her face. As soon as the door shuts behind you, she jerks up, whirls around and throws a pen in your direction.

  You catch it. “I am safe, thank you for asking.”

  “You're so stupid!” She groans, picks up another pen and throws it. Chiron is the one to interject this time, snatching the pen from thin air and tucking it into the little pouch hooked to his side.

  “Enough, Annabeth. We haven't got time to chastise them.”

  “I beg to differ,” Annabeth growls, not once taking her eyes off you.

  The guilt claws to the surface; she only wanted to protect you, only wanted to give you some decent advice, and neither you nor Percy had listened, both too absorbed in your own boredom to use the common sense Annabeth seems so prone to.

  Chiron, however, does not give you a chance to ponder over this gruesome feeling. Instead, he pulls a seat out and gestures for you to sit down, which you do without question; at this point, you know you'd be stupid to disobey him, would only be digging yourself into a deeper hole, one you're not too sure you'll be able to crawl out of.

  He takes a seat in front of you as Annabeth hovers by your shoulder, arms folded over her chest, eyes trained dead ahead. You awkwardly shift in your seat, waiting for the scolding to begin.

  But instead, Chiron grabs a golden button from a drawer in his desk and presses it without saying anything at all. The room immediately brightens up in all different colours – red, green, blue, strobe lights dancing across the room, taking shape in the centre of the carpet. You have to squint to fully understand the form taking shape, but when it does, your stomach drops.

  Made entirely of lights, standing in the middle of the room, is Cornelius Fudge, the jittery little minister of the wizard world.

  You've only seen him a few times, and never in person; a few times, he came to meet with Chiron in regards to escaped prisoners, wizards who wanted to harm demigods who were on the run. You never thought too much of him, but he looks angry now, his grubbly little face twisted into an expression of anger and loathing. When he speaks, his voice is loud and harsh, making you flinch with each syllable.

  “Chiron!” he exclaims. “I hope this message finds you well; I'm still trying to figure out the communication device you gave to me in our last meeting. It's all very confusing, and every time I press something wrong, thunder and lightening nearly wipe me out.” He coughs into a handkerchief before continuing. “Anyway, I'm here to inform you of a mishap which took place in the Malfoy Manor only a few short hours ago. I've been given word that one of your people tried breaking into Lucius's home to do God only knows what. It's only pure luck that Malfoy's son, Draco, was awake and was able to stop the wicked thing from getting through the door.”

   “Wicked thing?” you burst. Chiron raises a silencing hand, still refusing to look at you.

  “We as a nation are becoming very paranoid by the loose grip with which you have upon your own people; they are starting to become wild, careless, and I can truly see a murder from one of you in our future, which, as the Minister, I must put a stop to as soon as possible. Therefore, I demand the culprit be punished for his or her crimes, and I will be popping in soon with my witness to go over the details of the night to help you further understand where our fear is coming from.” Again, he coughs into a handkerchief. “Thank you. I hope the camp is well – the strawberries you sent were wonderful, as always! Good day to you, sir!”

  The lights blink out. The room is doused in silence. Inside your head, a scream echoes.

  You don't even know what to say. Would an apology even suffice? Would an explanation even be worth it? Years it has taken for the wizarding world and the demigod world to live in peace, and by the sounds of it, you've just annihilated all of that for the sake of a prank. You let Lucius Malfoy's hateful words burrow themselves into your head, which is probably exactly what he planned.

  Chiron puts the golden button back in his desk. The soft click it makes as it hits the wood echoes off the walls, so loud and gentle, so mocking. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet your own and says, “Now you can understand why we're all a little bit angry.”

  “A little bit?” You close your eyes, letting Annabeth's outburst ring throughout the room. “Chiron, I warned them! I warned them both! I said – what did I say Y/N? - I said-”

  “You said it was stupid, and that we shouldn't do it,” you mumble. “And we didn't listen.”

  “No, you didn't, and now you've given the wizard council a reason to think we're out to get them, which gives them a reason to announce open fucking warfare on us-”

  “Okay, Annabeth, calm down,” Chiron says. “We're taking this one step at a time. There's no point jumping ahead to things like that.”

  “Chiron, this is bad. This is so, so bad. The wizards are going to think we did this on purpose-”

  “Why are you saying we?” you ask. “Percy and I did this on our own. We'll take the consequences. We've done it before.” You turn to Chiron, who stands solemnly in the corner, head bowed as if deep in thought. “What are the consequences, may I ask?”

  He sighs, nostrils flaring. “We've decided that keeping you in camp for the rest of the summer will suffice for now. The Minister and his witness will be arriving in a few days and I want you to be on your best behaviour.”

  You scowl; the punishment is weak. You got off lucky, and you're aware of that, but it doesn't make it any more bearable. You hate being trapped, hate sitting in the Hades cabin with nothing but your own thoughts keeping you company. That's the hardest part about being a child of one of the Big Three – you're alone. It doesn't matter how many campers surround you, you are alone.

  But you take the punishment on the chin, giving Chiron a respectful nod before walking from the Big House to continue with the rest of your day. You'll find Percy and talk to him about everything, maybe apologise for dragging him into something so stupid, something so avoidable. If either of you had any flicker of common sense, none of this would have happened.

  It's only when you're halfway down the hill do you question anything Chiron has just told you.

  You falter, one word lingering in your mind. Witness.

  The only witness you can possibly think of is Draco Malfoy.

  ---

  He arrives in the afternoon, already looking so madly out of place.

  You spot his white hair, blowing so majestically in the wind Chiron has picked out for the day. His robes billow out around him, his sharp face stuck in an expression of anxiety. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes darting to and fro as he strolls through the centre of Camp Half-Blood with his father at his side and the stout Minister, Cornelius Fudge, strolling behind them.

  He looks so out of place. It would almost be humorous if you weren't burning with misplaced anger at the mere sight of him; he told on you. He ran to his father and touted on you, even after making it seem like he was going to let you go with no consequences, and now you're stuck in camp for the rest of the summer with absolutely nothing to do and barely anyone to talk to.

  “Dickhead.”

  “Is that him?”

  You jump at the sound of Annabeth's voice, very nearly dropping the spear you were working with before your distraction walked through the barriers.

  “That's him,” you reply. “Draco Malfoy.”

   “I meant the other guy. The one you went after.”

  “Oh, Lucius. Yeah. He's there, too.”

  Annabeth narrows her grey eyes, following the movements of the Malfoy boys. “You know, I can kind of understand why you wanted to put them in their place.”

  You open your mouth to respond, but the words collapse when Draco's head snaps in your direction, like he somehow sensed your presence. His eyes find yours, his face draining of what little colour it has; something inside you stirs, fingers curling impossibly tighter around the spear.

  You remember those eyes so well, shockingly well, strangely well. Waking up to them burning holes into your skull was an experience you don't think you'll forget, considering the shock that coursed through you at the mere sight of him. He was so calm, so curious, not even yelling the slurs his father seems so keen on.

  And you might have made it up. You might have just been imagining it, but you're almost certain he flicks his head in the direction of the bandstand set up on the far side of camp, nearly hidden beneath the canopy of trees. You continue to stare at him, too bewildered by the miniscule movement to respond before he disappears over the hill.

  “Come on,” Annabeth urges, nudging your arm. “Let's get back to training.”

  But you're too distracted now. Knowing that Lucius Malfoy and his son – Draco – are walking around Camp Half-Blood makes your moves sloppy. And then there's the matter of Draco's little signal, like he wants you to meet him somewhere, like he wants to talk to you.

  You have nothing to say to him, but that doesn't stop you being curious about what he wants to tell you.

  Annabeth swings her sword, very nearly clipping the side of your ear. You yelp, stumbling back. Your foot catches on a rock sticking up from the ground, and before you can react, you're sprawled across the grass with your spear laying in a heap at your side.

  Annabeth sighs, kicking the weapon away from your outstretched fingers. “What the hell was that, L/N?”

  You prop yourself up on an elbow. “You could have given me some warning.”

  “Oh yes, because the monsters will be so generous as to give you some warning.”

   You scowl, shoving up from the ground. “Look, I'm just gonna get some water before the next round, okay?”

  Annabeth falters, narrowing her eyes. “Just some water?”

  “Just some water.” You give her a dazzling smile, hoping to the gods that this is enough to convince her you are telling the truth. You know it's a long shot – Annabeth knows you better than anybody else, but she's learned from her mistakes. Trying to boss you around and tell you what to do will only ever end in disaster, and so she says nothing else as you set your gear back on the rack and head up the hill towards the bandstand, out of sight of Annabeth's suspicious glare.

  Draco isn't there when you arrive. The bandstand is deserted, the only sign of life being the tree nymphs poking their heads out of the canopy to see who has arrived on their territory. You shoo them away before slumping down on the bench set in the middle of the stand, gazing around with your heart beating wildly in your chest, and for no reason at all.

  He probably won't even show up. He probably hates you. He's probably too scared to face you after what he did, and honestly, you wouldn't even blame him.

  After ten minutes, you start losing hope. Chiron will be looking for you shortly, most likely tipped off by Annabeth that you disappeared for no reason instead of finishing your training session. It won't be long for them to add two and two together and realise exactly what you have gone to do-

  “I didn't think you'd actually show up. Thought you might have been banned from seeing me.”

  Your head snaps up. “Jesus, Draco. You scared the shit out of me!”

   There he is, all tall and lanky, white hair blowing away from his forehead, his weird robes billowing out around him. It's weird how a person can make such odd attire look nice, almost like an outfit you'd wear yourself.

  “Sorry,” he says, though he doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest; he sounds tired. “I thought you demigods were meant to have superhuman senses or something.”

  You raise a brow. “Our parents are gods, not superheroes.”

  “Same difference.”

  “I'm flattered.”

  He sits down beside you, shoulder bumping yours. “Don't be. It wasn't a compliment.”

   You fall into silence then, unsure of what to say, how to start the conversation you both know needs to be had. You had so much anger built up inside you only moments before, but the second you looked up and saw his face, it dispelled. You were reminded of them blue eyes gazing down at you when you awoke from your Stunning spell, how soft and worried they were for a complete stranger.

  Finally, he inhales deeply and says, “I didn't mean for this to get as big as it did.”

  “Everyone's mad at Percy and I. Me especially.”

  He tilts his head back, glaring up at the sky. “How badly did they punish you?”

   “I can't leave this place for the rest of the summer.”

  “Not too bad, then.”

  You glare at him. He cracks open an eye, catches your expression and raises a brow.

  “It is bad?” Lifting his head, he gestures towards the open stretch of grass in front of you. “This place looks amazing, Y/N. You've got everything you could possibly need, plus you're safe from all those crazy monsters we always get word about.”

  “The monsters don't bother me. I'm meant to go out and fight them; that's my purpose.”

   Draco glances at you. You feel his blue eyes burning holes into the side of your head, can feel the judgement radiating off him as he takes in what you've just said. You never realise just how strange other people must find statements like that, how backwards it truly is to crave the feel of battle.

  “You know, I'd kill to have a place like this.”

  You look at him. “Really? Is your mansion not enough?”

  He scowls, barrelling on like you haven't said anything. “A place where you feel like you belong.” He glances over. “You may hate being here sometimes, but look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel like this place is home.”

   You can't do that. Despite your desire to be free sometimes, your desire to head out on the streets where you don't belong, you know Camp Half Blood will always be home. It will always be the place you turn to when you need comfort, because it is the only place in the world that has ever accepted you and your weird abilities with open arms.

  Draco hums. “Exactly. I don't have that. I don't fit in anywhere; I'm not evil enough for my family, not good enough for everyone else. I'm on my own.”

    The silence that follows is a heavy one; you're not used to this kind of talk. You relate so strongly to his feelings, but you very rarely express them in quite the same way. At Camp Half-Blood, everyone is in the same boat. It's rude to think you have it worse than somebody else. Every single person here was abandoned by a parent, maybe even both.

  But Draco isn't a demigod, so maybe he won't mind.

  “I get that.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” You tug at your sleeve, pulling the material over your curled fingers. “I don't exactly come from the most well-loved bloodline in this place. Even other Half-Bloods take one look at me and cower.”

  “That blonde girl I saw you with-”

  You wave a dismissive hand. “That's Annabeth; she's more like a sister to me, but even she's wary of my powers.”

  Draco pauses. “What powers?”

  You open your mouth to respond, to go through the long list of the terrifying things you are capable of, but your words are cut short by the sound of a bark in the distance. Your head snaps up immediately, senses sparking to life before you've even fully processed where the noise is coming from. Around you, the tension in the camp is amplified as the other Half-Bloods spring to the same level of alertness.

  Draco straightens up, reaching into his back pocket for a wand that you can almost guarantee will be completely useless within the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood. You place a hand on his shoulder as you stand, pushing him back down onto the bench.

  “Stay here.”

  “Where are you going?” he asks, head darting left and right. “What was that?”

  “I don't know, but it didn't sound good.”

   “So call someone!”

  You raise a brow, shooting him a glance over your shoulder. He looks like a scared little boy, hands balled against his chest, eyes darting to and fro. They join with yours eventually, softening almost immediately.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “We don't just call someone at Camp Half-Blood. We deal with this stuff on our own.”

  Draco falters. His eyes narrow, though the expression doesn't last long; suddenly, he cries out and lurches forward, pointing madly to a space just over your shoulder. You spin just in time, yanking your sword from your belt and swinging blindly. Your shoulder smashes against the dirt, giving you a view of the beast that has just tried ripping you to shreds.

  A chimera.

  You recognise it. Of course you do. The lion head and snake tail are kind of difficult to forget.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Draco, go!” you yell, rolling onto your knees and swinging your sword yet again. The chimera dives, talons outstretched, mouth open in a roar.

It's massive paws slam into your shoulders, shoving you back yet again. You cry out, struggling to lift your sword with the weight pressing against your chest, the blood now seeping from two wounds in your shoulders. Over the chimera's massive shoulders, you can see Draco jumping from foot to foot, clearly unsure what to do.

  “Why are you still stood there?” you scream.

  Your yelling triggers something within the chimera. You watch the gears turn in its head, its red eyes gleaming before it spins, it's tail snapping out and wrapping around your wrist. You cry out, sword clattering to the floor before you're yanked to your feet and thrown carelessly against the bench you were previously sat on.

  Draco spins. “Y/N!”

  You groan, looking up through bleary eyes; your sword isn't like Percy's. It won't just reappear in your pocket any time you lose connection with it. Where it lies in the grass, feet away from you, it will stay.

  That means you only have one way to get this beast away from you and Draco.

  It takes all of your strength, and it's never easy, but you push through the pain and the exhaustion and pull on that little trigger within your body. Something surges inside you, a feeling so familiar it almost feels like second nature. The floor rumbles. Draco yelps, clinging desperately to the back of the bench, but you keep your eyes on the chimera. It digs its foot into the dirt, growls low in its throat, and then it dives.

  The skeleton's hand bursts from the ground, wraps around the chimera's ankle and pulls it back.

  As soon as the chimera's chin hits the dirt, you bounce to your feet and sprint towards your sword. You snatch it from the ground, spin and slash through the air, no longer caring what part of the beast you hit, just as long as you injure it somehow.

  It strikes through the goats head that protrudes from the chimera's back.

  Black blood oozes from the monsters back end. It splatters up your arms, tiny dots sprinkling your face, but you don't have the time to ponder on that. You swing again, this time going for the neck. The chimera screams, but as soon as your sword makes contact with it's bushy mane, the scream disappears. The chimera bursts into golden powder in front of you, blowing away in the wind.

  A pair of hands wraps around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall to your knees.

  “Holy shit,” you whisper against Draco's collar. “Are you okay?”

Draco can't speak. Looking up, you see his lower jaw rattling, words fighting to the surface but being unable to push past his wall of fear. He looks everywhere but your face, as if trying to figure out where on earth the chimera disappeared to.

  “It's gone for now,” you say, throat dry. “You're safe, Magic Boy.”

  “How did that get in here?”

  Annabeth's voice echoes up the hill. Glancing over your shoulder, you see her marching in your direction, Chiron and Percy walking by her side. At the bottom of the hill, the other Half-Bloods look up, shocked at the sight in front of them. Your disgruntled form being held up by a wizard is certainly not a normal sight at Camp Half-Blood.

  “Y/N,” Percy exclaims. “Are you alright?”

  “Just peachy,” you croak out. “I think I might be bleeding out, though.”

  “Someone get some ambrosia,” Chiron demands, and it's with gentle hands that he extracts you from Draco's grip and lowers you to the floor. He looks up at Draco and says, “Are you alright, boy?”

  “T-the skeletons,” Draco stammers. “They just – they just came out of the floor!”

  Chiron smiles gently. “So I see you've been witness to our Y/N's miraculous abilities, hm?”

  Draco's eyes widen. “Y/N did that?”

  “Yes, you idiot,” Annabeth hisses, shouldering Draco out of the way so she can kneel beside you. She dabs a wet cloth against your shoulder, and you hiss at the contact.

  Percy arrives shortly after with an air tight bag of ambrosia, which you eat in about two seconds flat.

  “How did that get in here?” Percy asks.

  “The barriers were open already,” Chiron replies. “We needed to let the Minister and his men inside the camp, so we had to weaken them a little bit. We must have weakened them too much, and the chimera found a way in.”

   “Or this is the gods playing some sick trick on us,” says Annabeth. “Remember when Percy first arrived and they thought it would be funny to let the Minotaur roam free?”

  “This isn't the gods,” you mumble. “I haven't done anything to make them mad.”

  “So it's the wizards, then.” Annabeth whirls on Draco, folding her arms over her chest. You close your eyes, listening to Percy chuckle lightheartedly at your side. Both of you have given up trying to calm her down at this point. “You and your people just have to come in and ruin everything, don't you?”

  Draco blinks. He's barely spoken the entire time, clearly still trying to figure out what the hell he has just witnessed.

  Annabeth laughs coldly. “When will you and your people get the hint that we don't want you here. We don't want anything to do with you! It's you lot who have so much to say about us, and the minute we retaliate, you take a little hissy fit and have to get the bloody council involved! Well, goodbye to you. Get out of our camp and stay out or else the next monster to attack you won't be killed by us – you can deal with it on your own with your fancy magic spells.”

  She turns back, flicking her curls in Draco's face.

  You shyly glance up and mumble, “Sorry about her.”

   “And although that speech held a lot of passion,” Chiron cuts in, placing a hand on Annabeth's shoulder, “I'm afraid Mr Malfoy and his people cannot leave the camp until the barriers have been sorted.”

    Silence.

  Even you're too stunned to speak, staring up at Chiron as if waiting for the punchline of some joke. He simply looks around, examining the invisible barriers surrounding you, most likely seeing every single gap and crack held within them.

  Percy is the first to break the silence. “Uh. . . Why not?”

  “Well,” Chiron says, “the barriers have been split. If we were to open them any further to let these men out, I fear they might be unsalvageable. We can't risk it.”

  “So we're just gonna let them stay here?” Annabeth hisses.

  “I can't do that!” Draco exclaims, stumbling forward with wide eyes. “I have school, and my mother-”

  “This isn't up for debate,” Chiron says. “I must keep the safety of my people in mind at all times, and this is the only solution that will keep them safe.”

  Annabeth scoffs. “I wouldn't say letting the Malfoy's in our space is keeping us safe.”

  “That is because you're blinded by your ignorance.”

   You and Percy take sharp breaths through your teeth, watching Annabeth's face drop. It would almost be sad if you weren't in agreement with the centaur.

  And it's weird because you used to have the exact same thought process as Annabeth; all you read about wizards was how much they despised your kind, how they saw you as unnatural, a mistake, because gods aren't meant to have children with mortals. Mortals – or Muggles – aren't meant to carry such powerful beings.

  And yet here you are, looking at Draco and feeling even the tiniest glimmer of excitement at the idea of having him stay with you for a little while.

  Chiron turns back to Draco and says, “You can stay in cabin eleven with the Hermes kids. That's where all the newcomers go.”

  Draco pales. “I really don't think this is a good idea...”

  “It's the only idea we have,” Chiron says. “Now, get ready for the feast. You must be starving.”

  ---

  Draco doesn't go to the feast. Apparently, he isn't as starved as Chiron made him out to be.

  Instead, he follows you to the infirmary, despite having no injuries himself. Will Solace feeds you chunks of ambrosia, keeping a narrowed gaze on Draco as he sits by your bedside, saying nothing. He looks thoughtful, head ducked down, hands perched between his legs; he hasn't spoken a single word since the two of you arrived, and his skin is yet to find colour again.

  You glance at Will and whisper, “Is he looking okay to you?”

  “Absolutely not,” Will replies, pressing a damp cloth to your shoulder blade. “But I'm not one hundred percent sure how wizards are supposed to look in the first place, so I can't really say.”

  “Have you got any juice or anything like that you can give him?”

  Will hollows out his cheeks, clearly not appreciating the idea of using up resources on a wizard. Nonetheless, the son of Apollo is too kind for his own good and heads into the back room to grab a juice box. He hands it to Draco with a soft smile, one Draco does not return, before Will says he's going to go check on the other campers. He leaves you alone after that, the room empty besides you and Draco.

  Draco doesn't look up. He doesn't really need to; even without seeing his face, you know what expression he will be wearing, as it is the same expression so many people have worn after watching you bring the dead up from the ground.

  You bite your lip and say, “The food is good here. Are you sure you don't want to go and get some dinner?”

  Draco slowly looks up. His eyes are bloodshot, strained, glinting light blue beneath the yellow lights. “Who is your godly parent?”

  You pause. “Why do you care?”

  “Because what I just saw you do-”

    “Hades,” you blurt out, unable to bear hearing him go into detail again, unable to bear the disgust that will surely ring through his voice. “Hades is my father. I'm the kid he was never supposed to have.”

  Draco stares at you, waiting for you to continue, but what else is there to say? There's no relationship to describe, no happy memories with your dad you can share. All there is to it, is that you are not meant to be here, and you are.

  “And you . . . you have no brothers or sisters? You're all alone?”

  Your eyes snap up. “I'm not alone. I have Percy, and Annabeth, and. . . and everyone else. Plus, I have a little brother – Nico.”

  Draco perks up, like the idea of you having a little brother is something to be excited about. “Really? Where is he?”

  “He's floating around somewhere,” you reply. “He doesn't really like staying in one place for too long; I only really see him when he comes to visit me or his boyfriend.”

   Draco withers. “Oh.”

  “Why do you care anyway?”

  He scowls. “I don't care. I'm just curious. If I'm to stay here for the next few days, I might as well get to know you a little better.”

  “It works both ways, Magic Man. Tell me, why is your father such a little bitch?”

  “I could ask the same thing about yours.”

  “My dad is the god of death. What's your dad's excuse?”

  Draco glares. You grin, slowly leaning back on the hospital bed as you wait for his response, because you genuinely want to know. You've spent years reading articles orchestrated by Lucius Malfoy that go into great detail about why he hates demigods so much, why he thinks they're the scum of the earth; now, you have his son at your disposal, and you're determined to find out where these violent opinions have stemmed from.

  Draco sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “My father just doesn't like people who are different.”

  You pause. “Different?”

   “People who aren't pure-blood wizards are basically bottom tier to him. That includes Muggle borns, Squibs, Muggles, demigods.”

  “But he doesn't even know anything about demigods.”

  Draco shrugs heavily. “He knows you're different. That's all he cares about.”

  It makes sense, you suppose. Lucius has never kept his ignorance a secret. It's not just demigods he speaks badly about. You've read it all – his hatred for Muggles, for people who disagree with him, for good people.

  People who aren't like him.

  “And what about you?” you ask.

  Draco flicks his eyes up, still messing with his fingers. “What about me?”

  “How do you feel about demigods?” You gesture around the room. “Now that you've seen us in action; what are your thoughts?”

  Draco shrugs, looking back down at his intertwined hands. He has nice hands. Muscled, long fingers, expensive rings. “I think it's all quite odd, but I'll get used to it. I'm gonna be stuck here with you for a while, so I don't really have a choice, do I?”

  You smile. “No, I don't think so.”

  ---

  The dreams are worse that night.

  They always are after you have been injured. Already restless, you aren't strong enough to fight off the nightmares that swarm your mind, and tonight they come for you in full force.

  You always call them nightmares, even though they really aren't. More like visions, people visiting you when you least expect it. You've had Poseidon visit your dreams, Athena, even Ares, but tonight, someone new is making an appearance.

  You recognise him immediately. He has the same eyes as you.

  “Dad.”

  He stands waist deep in black mist. Curly black hair frames a chiselled face, dark eyes gazing at you with a look close enough to love that you get a little emotional. By his side is a three-headed dog, and in his hand is a skull, held so casually. Neither of you mention it. Neither of you need to.

  The room is dark. Looking down, you see black mist crawling towards you, hiding your legs from view. You should probably be panicking, but something is holding you back.

  “Dad,” you repeat. “Where's Nico?”

  “Safe,” he responds, voice too calm for a man whose son has been missing for weeks. Voice too calm for a man who is standing in front of the child he abandoned so many years ago. “And how are you, child?”

  “Good. Better than ever, actually.”

  “Even with the company you have been keeping recently?”

  You pause, certain you misheard. Hades raises a brow, tilting his head as if to say Are you going to try and tell me otherwise?

  Swallowing, you say, “So this is about Draco.”

   “This is about the wizards in general,” Hades corrects. “Don't think I didn't notice you getting comfortable with that boy.”

  “I wouldn't exactly say comfortable-”

  “He held you up when you fell.”

   “And that was very nice of him.”

  “That was inappropriate.”

  You fall silent, cheeks heating up. You truly cannot believe your dad – your real life father – is stood in front of you giving dating advice. He needs to take one look at his own history with women and sort himself out before he comes running to you.

  “Wizards aren't safe around our people, Y/N,” Hades continues. “You aren't meant to mingle with people like him.”

  “I think that's a little harsh.”

  “His father wants you dead.”

  “My father wants everyone dead! You're the god of the underworld, for crying out loud!”

  Hades's eyes widen for a moment, clearly shocked at your outburst, but you don't even have the strength to reel it back in. You have felt frustration towards many of the Olympians, all of whom seem to believe they have some sort of control over you, but the one Olympian who makes you angriest the quickest, is the one stood right in front of you, the one who shares your blood, the one who hooked up with your mum one day before abandoning her, along with the kid he always claimed he was never going to have.

  You don't even care that he's a god. You don't care that he could kill you in two seconds flat if he so desired.

  “Chiron did not raise you to have such a sour attitude,” Hades says after a moment.

  You deflate, eyes slipping closed. “There's really no point in trying to get through to you, is there?”

  “It is my job as a father-”

  You scoff.

  “-to keep my kids safe. That's what I'm doing.”

   Your eyes pop open. “Keep us safe? Bianca's dead, Dad. Nico's gone rogue. The only reason I haven't been slaughtered is because I never expected you to keep an eye on me – I do everything on my own.”

  “That's not true,” Hades growls. “You know that's not true.”

  “No? So where's my little brother then, huh? Where's Bianca? Where were you yesterday when a fucking chimera nearly ripped me to shreds, huh? Where were you then?”

  “I'm a busy man, Y/N, but I'm serious when I say that wizards are not the kinds of-”

  “This isn't about the wizards!” you yell, throwing your hands up. The ground rumbles, but neither you nor Hades acknowledge it. “This is about you coming into my dreams, thinking you can just lay down some fatherly rules after nearly eighteen years of not giving a shit about me!”

  His eyes flash. Within the dark irises, you catch a glimpse of a screaming face, and you know exactly what he must be hearing in the back of his mind right now. You hear it sometimes, too, only he must be much more used to it than you are.

  “I have always cared for you,” he says. “Even when my brothers and sisters were punishing me for having another demigod child, I cared for you. I kept them from harming you. I made sure you reached Camp Half-Blood safely so that you could be under the protection of people who knew where you came from.”

  “And they've been more like family to me than you have ever been.”

  Hades closes his eyes. A god dejected. A god not getting what he wants. It's a rare but pleasant sight.

  “I'd like to wake up now,” you mumble. “I appreciate you stopping in, but please never do it again.”

  Hade's looks at you, and you hate the resemblance. You hate that pull, so mortal and familial. You can't even help it. It's like the genes you got from this man are desperate for you to just make up with him, to just see him as the dad he is.

  But you can't.

  He argues no further, clicking his fingers to send you out of your sleep. You awake, startled, eyes snapping open to the sight of your dark room, the smell of ash heavy in the air. You flick your eyes over to see your bedside table gone – yet again, you incinerated it in your sleep.

  “Fuck sake,” you whisper.

  “I put it out.”

  You yelp, very nearly falling out of bed in your shock. Your head snaps up, hands grappling for your sword, only to pause when you look over and see Draco standing in the doorway wearing a white dress shirt and black trousers.

  He looks exceptionally smart.

  Exceptionally smart.

  Your heart jumps as you push yourself up, running a self conscious hand through your bed head. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Chiron asked me to wake you. He said you have training today.”

  You groan, flopping back into your pillows. Draco chuckles, and before you can tell him to stop, he strolls right over to your window and pulls the black out curtains open.

  “Noooo,” you moan, rolling onto your stomach and stuffing your head in the pillows.

  Draco chuckles. “Come on. It's already nine am. The climbing wall is gonna be packed if you don't wake up now.”

  You peek an eye out of your pillow and glare at him. “How do you even know about the climbing wall?”

  “Poseidon's son gave me a little tour after I left the infirmary yesterday; quite a nice little place you've got here, I must say. I'm quite fond of it all.”

  “Oh, happy days. As long as you're happy.”

  He grins, sharp as knives. “I feel like I'm on holiday.”

  You swing your legs out of bed. “You're digging yourself into a deeper hole, Malfoy.”

   “I can just sit back, kick my feet up, watch you lot fight a bunch of mythical creatures-”

  You lob a sock at him. “Get out while I get changed.”

   Draco grins before bowing out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

  And so you get ready for the day, getting dressed in your usual Camp Half-Blood shirt and a pair of comfortable jogging bottoms. The sun is bright this morning, a clear indicator that Chiron and the gods are in a bit of a better mood than they were yesterday, when rain was breaking through the already damaged seals of the camps barriers.

  As promised, the climbing wall is set up and booming with Half-Bloods. People from all the different cabins take turns going up against one another, clambering up one side of the wall, racing each other to the top as lava pours down from nowhere, lightening strikes zap through the centre of the wooden beam, as random hands appear out of nowhere and make swipes for legs and arms and faces.

  You spot Draco sat by himself in the stands, wand twirling in his fingers. It could very well be an intimidation tactic, but you stroll up beside him anyway, taking a seat to watch the scene before you unfold; someone from the Ares cabin has gone up against someone from the Athena cabin, a deadly pairing when put together.

  Draco doesn't budge when you sit down. Instead, he points and says, “I think the one with the spear is going to win.”

  “Clarisse?” you say. “Yeah, probably. She's a stubborn bitch.”

  “Daughter of...”

  “Ares.”

 “God of...”

  You roll your eyes. “Have you ever actually looked into the Greek myths?”

   Draco shrugs, leaning back in his seat. He stretches his long limbs out in front and says, “I was educated more in the ways of Dark Magic than Greek myths.”

  “Boring.”

  “Necessary, I think.”

   “Tell me how that all works.”

  Draco glances over. “Magic?”

  “The world of magic. It sounds. . . confusing.”

  Draco pauses for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. As he ponders, the two of you watch Clarisse make her way to the top of the climbing wall, where she pulls the ring loose of it's confines and holds it up to the sound of applause and cheers from the people on the ground. She hops off, landing in a crouch on the ground; her brothers and sisters swarm her, all but lifting her off her feet in celebration.

  Finally, Draco speaks. “It really is just a whole different world. Different to. . . any other world, I guess. We dress differently-”

  “Yes.”

  “The structure of the whole thing is different. You get used to it after a while, but I guess being here is making me realise just how weird the way things are run back home really are.”

  “But it's what you're used to, isn't it?” you say. “You must have thought the way we did things was weird when you first arrived.”

  Draco scoffs. “Skeletons coming up from the floor? Definitely weird.”

  Your cheeks heat up, despite the lack of malice in his voice. Your powers are still – and forever will be – a sensitive topic for you; you've had far too many bad experiences with them to ever be comfortable flaunting them around like the other Half-Bloods are capable of doing. Even now, you watch the Hephaestus kids make fire sprout from their fingertips without so much as a flicker of hesitation – you've never been able to do that, because people take one look at what you're capable of and immediately think you're some kind of devil spawn, there just to drag them into the pits of hell or something.

  Draco nudges you, pulling you from your trance. When you look over, he gestures towards the climbing wall. You follow his gaze to see Percy standing in the centre, waving up at you, arms wild above his head, that goofy grin on his stupid face.

  “I think he wants you to join him,” Draco mumbles.

  You glance over. “You don't mind?”

  “I'll stay here and cheer you on. How about that?”

   You stare at him a second longer, the wand twirling between his nimble fingers; oh, it would be so easy to hate him. That cocky smirk, the subtle hostility to everything he says. You weren't made to like wizards, but Draco Malfoy is starting to grow on you.

  You give him a smile before hopping from your seat and jogging down into the grounds. People cheer at your arrival, because this is the match they have all been waiting for; scared as they may be to face your powers on their own, they would never give up the opportunity to watch two kids of the Big Three go head to head against one another. This is truly the only time you feel comfortable using your powers.

  Percy shakes your hand when you reach him, dragging you close so he can whisper in your ear. “You and Dynamo getting a little close up there?”

   You shove him away, not even giving him an answer before you hop up onto the first ring of the climbing wall. “You coming, Seaweed Brain?”

  Percy rolls his eyes, taking position on the other side of the climbing wall. In the stands, a whistle blows, and immediately the two of you start.

  Percy's quick. Percy has always been quick. From the day he strolled into camp, dragging Grover along with him, he has proven how powerful he is.

  But you're also pretty quick, pretty lithe, just as capable as him.

  You don't even fully process where he is, much too focused on avoiding the downfall of lava dribbling down the side of the climbing wall. The heat singes your hand as you pull yourself up, and you have to grit your teeth to stop the cry of panic that always wants to make it's way to the surface when this happens.

  Percy has the advantage, of course; he just summons some water from thin air, and the lava is immediately overpowered. He laughs at your scowl, pulling himself further along the climbing wall.

  “Okay, Mr Jackson,” you mutter. “If that's really how you want to play it.”

  You pull on something within your stomach, a trick your sister Hazel was able to teach you when you visited her in the Roman camp all those months ago. You reach a hand out, grabbing the iron ore before it soars above your head after being ripped from the ground by your powers. It's not much – you're much better with a sword – but you throw it, using your powers to push it away from your body, straight towards Percy's face. It smacks him in the nose, making him cry and stumble. He slips from the ring he is hanging onto, dropping a few feet before finally latching onto another; blood oozes from his nose, and he glares up at you as you quicken your pace, hoping to put as much distance between you both as humanly possible.

  “That wasn't very fair, you know!” Percy yells up.

  “Gotta do what you gotta do!” you yell back, which of course prompts Percy to shoot a blast of water straight at your legs. You yelp, grip loosening on the ring you have grip on.

  But then you're falling, because the thing about water is that it makes surfaces extremely slippery, and not even a child of Hades can overpower that. You desperately try latching onto something – anything – that can soften your fall, but your moving too quick, and the rings are zooming past, out of reach, and you know this is it. You're going to fall to the floor and break some bones and be out of commission for weeks, because that's what always happens when Percy gets competitive. You're starting to get real-

  “Wingardium Leviosa!”

  Another yelp is ripped from your throat, this one more a yelp of surprise as you suddenly become light as a feather. The wind stops whistling in your ears, replaced now by the gasps coming from the ground, and the sound of Percy yelling, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” over and over again.

  Ever so gently, you are lowered onto the floor. As soon as your feet hit solid ground, you are engulfed by a crowd of Half-Bloods, all coming to make sure you're okay, have not been harmed despite that being the way of things in this place.

  Percy clambers off the climbing wall and dashes to your side, wrapping you in a brotherly hug as soon as he reaches you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you that hard-”

  “'Course you didn't.”

  “You had it coming!” He points to his nose, still dripping blood. “Look what you did to me!”

  You roll your eyes before craning your neck to get a better view over the heads of your fellow campers. You catch sight of him immediately, leaning against the stands with his wand still twirling in his fingers, the tiniest of smirks present on his pale face.

  Your stomach turns; he had used his magic, cast some sort of spell to stop you from hitting the floor.

  You probably need to thank him for that.

  However, as soon as he meets your eyes, he does nothing but wink and turn on his heel, strolling oh-so-casually towards cabin eleven.

  ----

  “So are you going to tell me what that was?”

  You scream. Your hands fly above your head, knocking the low hung lamp shade dangling from the roof of the Hades cabin.

  Spinning, you catch sight of your father stood in the corner of your room, shrunken down to the size of a normal human being. He likes playing pretend, apparently, but you see right through it. His dark eyes are narrowed, and leaning against the wall beside him is the scythe he so often carries around with him.

  “That's an intimidation tactic,” you pant, motioning to the scythe. “It's not gonna work me on, Big Guy.”

  “Don't ignore my question,” he snaps. “What did that boy do to you when you were falling?”

  You slowly straighten up. “You saw that?”

  “Answer the question.”

   “Why do you think I have an answer?” you exclaim. “I know just as much about the wizarding world as you do! I don't know what he did, but I'm not dead, so I'm not gonna bother questioning it.” You grab a pomegranate seed from the bowl beside your bed, popping it into your mouth before you point a stern finger at the god standing in your room. “And you shouldn't either; he saved your child's life.”

  “My children are capable of protecting themselves. That's how you were raised.”

  You roll your eyes, flopping down on your bed. “This again? Where do you get off talking about raising kids?”

  For a brief second, Hades pauses. You savour it, the moment his face twists into one of uncertainty, as if only just then realising where he has messed up; he can talk all he wants about his children and how you're all just like him, but he can never claim to have made you into the people you are today.

  You hum, smirking. “That's what I thought.”

   Hades snatches the bowl of seeds out of your hand and slams them back onto the bedside table. The room rattles much more than necessary, but you spare the trembling walls only a single glance before turning your attention back on your father. He glares down at you, no longer justifying your attitude with words. He's waiting patiently for you to just open up and tell him exactly what happened, waiting for you to just admit that what happened out there was messed up, and unnatural, and you will never see Draco ever again if you can help it-

  “He saved my life.”

  You believe it, even though it takes every fibre of your willpower to admit such a thing. Demigods don't just get saved. They do the saving. They live their lives getting trained to protect themselves, because they know nobody else will. Today, all those years of training disappeared, and you should have died. You should have fallen to the ground as punishment for your lack of concentration, but Draco had stepped in and given you a second chance.

  And maybe that's dramatic. Maybe looking at it as a second chance was taking it a step too far, but he had done something, and you can't just sit back and pretend otherwise.

  Hades straightens up. In mortal form, his full height is only around five foot nine, but he still manages to look intimidating. It's the eyes. You wonder if people think the same thing about you when you look at them.

  “My brothers and sisters have been voicing their concerns about you getting too close to the Malfoys,” he says, voice softer now. “I told them not to worry, that no child of mine would ever fraternise with people like them. And yet here we are.”

  You pause. “Here we are, yeah.”

   “Lucius won't be happy to hear his son has helped save the life of a Half-Blood.”

  “Lucius Malfoy won't be happy, period. Plus, I haven't even spoken to him the entire time he's been here.”You push yourself up into a sitting position. “Draco isn't like Lucius, Dad. They are two separate people, just like me and you.”

  Hades clenches his jaw. You've hit a nerve. You always do when you bring up just how desperately you want to be separated from your father, just how much you despise being told you look like him, or you do something like him.

  He looks at you with those dark eyes and says, “You're stubborn, you know. That's a trait you get from me, not your mother.”

  “You're grasping at straws now.”

  “You're more like me than you'll ever be willing to admit, but everyone sees it. Nico and Bianca. . . they had little traits of me within them, but not as much as you. You really are my child.”

   Your stomach clenches, and it's confusing. It's so, so confusing, and so painful, because there's a part of you that basks in these comments. He's your dad. No matter how much you try denying it, there has always been a part of you that wants to know you're a little bit like your dad, and yet there's that hostility that begs and clambers for any excuse you can use to go against such a thing.

  You look away, fighting the urge to cry that always seems to rise to the surface when Hades is in your vicinity. “Can you just leave, please? I'm not going to stop talking to Draco just because you lot upstairs have a grudge against his family.”

   Hades sighs. “I know you won't. But you can't say I didn't warn you.”

  “Get out, Dad!”

  When you next look up, the room is empty. Nico and Bianca's beds are desolate, pushed against the wall, suffering from years of neglect. Once again, you are alone. Outside, Draco's shadow passes the window, accompanied by Lucius.

  ----

  Draco seems to be getting comfortable in camp.

  Your father doesn't like this.

  You see, Hades has a very annoying way of making his anger obvious, especially when the anger is pointed towards his children. You will be sat talking to Draco, having a seemingly normal conversation about whatever the days endeavours are holding, when suddenly a scream will plunge right through the centre of your brain, impossible to ignore.

  It's painful sometimes. The headaches that often follow are the kind that leaves you sweating, unable to look into any form of light lest you make it worse. Hades doesn't take this into consideration, however, as he continues giving you these flashes throughout the next week and a half.

  It's another one of his stupid fear tactics. You know it is. He wants to make you suffer so you'll be on his side through intimidation, and you're not willing to give in to him like that. Gods don't always get what they want. That's something they need to learn.

  And so, you continue talking to Draco, and honestly, he's starting to become a friend. He's still a little drawn back, and you can only imagine the reasoning behind that is because Lucius is breathing down his neck every two seconds. Whilst Draco is taking the moral high ground and getting used to life at Camp Half-Blood, Lucius refuses to do such a thing. He spends his days brooding away in the Big House, getting angry when Chiron or any of the other Half-Bloods step foot in what he has now claimed as his domain. The Big House has basically become Out of Bounds whilst the Malfoys are in your presence, because Lucius throws a tantrum any time anyone besides him and his fellow wizards step foot inside of it.

  It's on day twelve that you and Draco sit together in the grass upon the hill. In your lap is a colouring book that Percy stole for you a few years back, one you haven't touched because you very rarely have the time to just sit down and colour something in. He said it got rid of stress or something like that. You wonder if it works.

  Draco lays down beside you, gazing up at the baby blue sky. He has one hand cupped across his forehead, the other resting on his stomach. His ice blue eyes are a little lighter when the sun hits them, and you can see some golden streaks in his silver hair.

  You colour in a picture of Poseidon, already excited to show Percy the final product.

  “Look at this picture a second,” you say after too many minutes of silence. “Tell me if that guy looks like Percy.”

   Draco flicks his gaze over, lifting his head just slightly to get a better view. “Percy?”

  “The son of Poseidon,” you confirm. “The annoying one who blew up your fountain.”

  “Oh, him.” Draco scowls, dropping his head back to the grass. “I suppose it looks a little bit like him, yes. Why?”

  You tilt the colouring book back and forth, humming as you inspect the drawing; it's badly done, of course, with the image probably taken from Google Images, drawn by some human who didn't know any better. For example, they drew him wearing some fancy toga-looking thing instead of his usual khaki shorts and Hawaiian button-up. You've also known Poseidon to enjoy getting his hair permed, but his hair is dead straight in the colouring book.

  “I just think Percy looks a lot like his dad,” you reply. “Not in this picture, obviously – Poseidon wouldn't be caught dead with his eyebrows looking like that. But in real life, I swear, they're the picture of each other.”

   Draco grunts. Not exactly the response you were looking for.

  You glance down at him, raising a brow. “Not gonna add anything helpful to the conversation?”

   “What could I possibly add? I don't know the Greek gods personally.”

  “Really?”

  Draco glares at you. “Forgive me for not fraternising with mythological gods, Y/N. I don't have quite the same relationship with them as you do.”

  You hold up your hands in faux surrender, recognising his angry tone. “Alright, fair enough. No need to get grumpy.”

  “You and Percy are really close.”

   It isn't a question, and you suppose it doesn't have to be. Anyone who has known you for more than two seconds will be able to see that you and Percy are close, having been through so much together. “Yeah, we are. What's wrong with that?”

   Draco slips his hand from his forehead over his eyes and mumbles, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” But his heart isn't in it, and you're not exactly convinced he's telling the truth. You haven't known Draco all that long, but you're pretty confident now in your abilities to pick up when he's angry, or frustrated, as you have seen it more often than any other emotion.

  You glance at him, raising a brow. “You sure about that?”

  “Yes. Why would I think there was something wrong with you having a friend?” He pauses a moment before adding, “He is just a friend, isn't he?”

   It clicks.

  Your cheeks heat up with the realisation. You're thankful that Draco is covering his eyes, because otherwise he would have surely been able to see your shocked expression, and that isn't the look you want to give off right now; you need to remain calm and collected, make sure you're reading this right before you go and lose your cool.

  Awkwardly, you push the colouring book onto the grass and turn your attention fully on Draco. He stiffens when he feels you move, though he doesn't look at you. He doesn't even move his hand away from his face. You wonder if perhaps he doesn't want to show you his true expression, either.

  “Yes,” you say. “Percy is just a friend. He's never been anything more than that.”

  “Oh right. Nice.”

  “Would...” You inhale, glancing down into camp. You're not used to this. Actual emotions, they're scary things. You've never been able to properly handle them. “Would that be an issue if he was?”

  This time, Draco is unable to hide his embarrassment. Beneath his hands, his pale cheeks flush red, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows and says, “No. It's none of my business.”

  “Well, it's just 'cause, like, you asked, and I just thought-”

  “Thought what?” Finally he looks at you, eyes narrowed. “Thought I cared about what you got up to when I'm not around?”

  You reel back at his tone. “What? No! Well – yeah, I guess, because clearly some part of you cares-”

  “You and Percy can do whatever you want.” He stands, wiping the grass from the elbows of his fancy black blazer. “I honestly couldn't care less. It's not like I'm sticking around much longer, anyway.”

  You raise a brow. “Are you mad? How the hell did that happen? I didn't even say anything!”

   “I'm not bloody mad.” He groans, spinning on his heel as he runs his hands through his hair. You don't even go after him, too stunned to even move. Instead, you just watch his retreating form, only for him to stop a few feet away, turn back and say, “Do you just forget the fact that he was about to let you fall to your death?”

  You freeze. This was not the turn you were expecting the conversation to make. “Come again?”

  “On that climbing wall,” Draco exclaims. “He watched you fall, Y/N! He didn't do anything to stop it from happening, and I refuse to believe he wasn't able to, because from what I've heard, he's one of the most powerful things in this bloody camp!”

   “Things?”

  “Oh, you know what I meant!”

  You shoot up then, anger flooding your system. This is happening too often. You're losing your grip on the control you have trained so hard to gather, and it's all Draco's fault. “No, Draco, I don't actually know what you mean. In case you've forgotten, you're in our home, so don't you dare come in here claiming to know what we see is right and wrong. Percy might be one of the stronger demigods, but so am I. I can handle myself, and Percy knows that! That's the only reason he didn't do anything-”

   “That's his excuse, is it?” Draco laughs, a bitter noise that makes your blood boil. “I wonder how long it took for him to brainwash you into believing that.”

  That's what does it.

  You remember all those times Percy has saved your life. You remember spending weeks by his side, on the run from the worlds most terrifying monsters. You remember crying with your belief that he was dead, imagining a life without your best friend, your companion.

  And here Draco is, acting like he knows Percy better than you, deeming him a bad person just because of a single mishap he happened to witness, a mishap he doesn't even fully understand.

  Behind you, the black cloud arises from the ground. Without even looking, you know it's there, consuming you in tendrils of darkness. Draco's eyes widen, a cry of surprise escaping him before he stumbles back.

  The cloud follows him.

  In your head, you listen to the screams of the souls that make up that cloud, the souls you can control with nothing more than a brief thought nowadays. Draco cries out, nearly falling over his feet. Soon, you can no longer see him as he disappears behind the black curtain.

  You stay exactly where you are, watching him run down the hill, being chased by this power you have total control over. It's fuelled by anger, and you know you're going to get in trouble for doing it, but in this moment, you don't even care. You'll deal with the repercussions later, so long as Draco learns his lesson now.

  It's once the young wizard has disappeared round the corner that you let the souls drop. They sink back into the floor, a rush of energy slamming back into your body now that the strenuous work is over. The hill you are standing on goes silent bar the sound of the snickering tree nymphs.

  And then, just by your left ear, your fathers voice whispers, “Good job, Y/N. Definitely my child.”

  ----

   Percy always knows when something is wrong with you.

  There's something in the air, he says, a buzzing that he recognises as something he too possesses when he's angry. It's like the children of the Big Three communicate their anger through this weird little hum that only the other mistakes can hear.

  He must notice it now.

  He sits across from you at the lake, his toes dipping in the water as you keep your knees drawn to your chest, fingers sunk in the dirt. You keep your eyes on the tide as it sways in and out, but Percy keeps his eyes on you, waiting for the moment you will turn and look at him.

  But you don't.

  You don't want to answer his questions right now. You don't want to go into detail about what Draco said, about what you did to him, about how guilty you feel even though you know you shouldn't. You have used that scare tactic on so many people in the past, and it's always been for good reason – not once have you ever felt guilty about it.

  Not until now.

  Finally, Percy sighs and says, “So you're just gonna sit there and not tell me what's up?”

  Leave it to him to be blunt.

  You glance over and shrug, unsure where to even begin. You want to tell him the truth, of course; he's like a brother to you. The world always feels a little off when you're not telling him every little detail of your life. But gods, how do you explain this without sounding crazy?

  “Do you want me to guess?” Percy continues, shuffling a little closer to you. “'Cause I'm good at that. Especially with you.”

  “Try it.”

  He hums, leaning back. “It definitely has something to do with the wizard boy.”

  Your eyes snap up. “How did you know?”

   “It's always about the wizard boy; you two have been joined at the hip since Chiron declared his residency here.” Again, he hums, continuing his analysis. His sea green eyes are narrowed, his lower lip protruding in a pout. “Did you two get into an argument?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Was he taking his fathers side?”

  “No.”

  “Was he insulting one of us?”

  “...Kind of.”

  Percy raises a brow. “So I'm getting warmer.”

  You sigh, closing your eyes in exasperation. “He thought you and I were a couple.”

 Percy pauses. It's now an awkward pause, especially considering he bursts into laughter not three seconds after. His shoulders jolt, eyes widening as he claps a hand to leg as if to stabalise himself. “You're kidding.”

  “Alright, Seaweed Brain, hands off.” You push him away and fold your arms over your chest. “But yes, he thought you and I were a couple.”

  “And that bothered you so much that you got into an argument with him and now you're huffing?”

   You glare. “You're really enjoying this, huh?”

  Percy nudges your shoulder light-heartedly. “I'm just messing. Tell me what happened.”

  And so, as Percy gets comfortable, you begin your retelling, going into the details about Draco's little tantrum, and your retaliation to said tantrum. Percy interjects with a little “Aww” when you talk about defending him, to which you push his arm to get him to pipe down.

  You feel even worse once the story has been spilled and you are able to see everything in hindsight; should you still be mad? Did Draco deserve that kind of torment?

  Percy is silent for a moment once the story has been told. He looks off into the sea, as if calling to the waves for an answer, a piece of advice he can give you.

  Finally, his wise mind comes up with, “That sounds shitty.”

  “Yeah,” you grumble. “It was.”

  “Sounds like he fancies you.”

  Your cheeks heat up. “I don't think so. Not any more, anyway.”

  “And you're disappointed about that?”

  You shrug, because you really don't know. It would be much less hassle if you weren't disappointed about it, but you can't deny that you don't enjoy the feeling of Draco being mad at you. It feels off. It feels like you've done something wrong, even though you don't think you have.

  “You know,” Percy continues, “I feel a little guilty being the reason you two have fallen out. I wasn't even there and I'm still causing trouble.”

   You scoff. “Yeah. You have a habit of doing that, don't you?”

  “I can't help it.” He leans forward, nudging your arm. “What if I have a little chat with Draco?”

  You perk up, stomach turning at the mere suggestion. “Oh Percy, no. . .”

  “What do you think I'm gonna do?”

  “Bully him. Make him hate me even more.”

  “The fact that that thought bothers you so much just proves to me how much I need to step in and offer my expertise. Annabeth didn't fall in love with me for no reason, and you know that.”

   You open your mouth to object, but the words fall short, because he has a point; out of everyone you've ever known, Percy is the one who has been able to keep up a healthy relationship the longest. He and Annabeth argue like cat and dog, yet they still give off the aura of two young people who are truly in love with another.

  That's rare.

  You slump back against a tree. “Just don't say anything stupid to him. Please.”

  He's already standing up, brushing dirt off the seat of his trousers. “Of course not. Give me ten minutes. I'll have him seeing sense in no time.”    ----

  Draco tries his best to stop the panic.

  It's an old habit, one he hasn't been able to kick. He sees a demigod, and immediately his heart starts beating really fast, and his stomach drops, and his fingers twitch in the direction of his wand. It's a self defence reflex, one that has been built into him from day one, but he's amongst them now, and he needs to stop it.

  But seeing Percy Jackson walking towards him is never going to be a sight he's going to get used to.

  Draco remembers that picture you were colouring in the grass the day previous. You said Percy looked just like his father, and Draco can see the resemblance now. From what little he knows about the true Greek god of the sea, he can tell just where that analysis came from; Percy's black hair, his sea green eyes, even the way he carries himself like he owns the place.

  It screams My dad is a god.

  Draco pulls his shoulders back and gives Percy his best game face, trying desperately to look like he knows what he's doing, like he hasn't been lost in his own thoughts from the moment you looked at him with that anger on your face. He hates that it affected him so much, that he can't get the image out of his head, that he wants nothing more than to storm over to the Hades cabin and apologise for ever upsetting you.

  “Draco, my man!” Percy exclaims, though his heart clearly isn't in it. “How are you? Good?”

  “Fine.”

  Percy clicks his fingers, giving awkward finger guns. “That's good. So good.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around. Then, out of nowhere, he snaps his gaze down to Draco's and says, “So, I've been told there's a bit of trouble in paradise.”

  Draco pauses. “Paradise? I'd hardly call this place paradise, Jackson.”

  Percy raises a brow; it infuriates Draco, who is so used to his comments making people angry. Percy just seems amused. “Your accent really doesn't do my last name justice when you say it like that.”

  Draco scowls. “What do you want from me, Percy? I've got nothing to say to you.”

  “Well, no. You don't. Technically, I have nothing to say to you, either, but I'm a nosy little shit head, so here we are.”

  “What makes you think I'll tell you anything?”

  Percy grins and takes an abrupt seat next to Draco, shoving his shoulder like they've been best friends for years. “If you tell me what I want to know, I'll tell you what you-” He prods a finger into Draco's chest. “-want to know.”

   Draco's heart hammers. He stares at the grinning demigod, debating whether or not to just jinx him here and now rather than let this absurd conversation go any further.

  But then the options come into his head.

  He has questions about you. Of course he does. You're just. . . a force to be reckoned with. You're such an individual, unlike any Draco has ever encountered in his life, and he wants to know more. Percy could be the key to having those questions answered.

  He coughs into his hand before saying, “I suppose I can talk a little bit.”

  Percy perks up. “Oh, really? Great! So what makes you think Y/N and I are a couple?”

  Draco's cheeks heat up. “Y/N told you about that?”

  “Y/N tells me everything. It's part of the whole being best friends thing.”

  Draco shrugs, awkwardly glancing down at his hands knotted upon his knees. “It was a stupid assumption to make. I know that now. Just. . . at the time, with how close you both are, it seemed the most plausible thing to think.”

  “Well, it was stupid.”

  “Yes-”

 “And did this assumption-” He says this with a snooty British accent that makes Draco glare even harder. “-piss you off?”

  Draco pauses; here is where he could very easily trip up. He needs to choose his words carefully.

  “Yes.”

  Percy tilts his head. “Because you. . . love Y/N?”

  “Love?”

  Percy raises his hands in faux surrender, though there is a grin flashing across his face. “Sorry, sorry. Do you fancy Y/N?”

  Draco swallows the golf ball sized lump in his throat; he wants to die. He literally wants to throw himself into the lake and never resurface. How has Percy managed to butter him up in less than fifteen minutes?

  “I suppose,” Draco mutters. “They are very – um – attractive.”

  “Big brain,” Percy says, nodding. “I get it, man. Smart people are hot.”

  “Uh, yes. Yes, they are also very smart-”

  “And scary.” Percy hollows out his cheeks, shaking his head at nothing. Draco is starting to get annoyed. “Y/N is terrifying, and let me tell you, when a person can intimidate me? Wow. Marry me on the spot, is what I say.”

   “Why don't you just ask Y/N out then?”

  The words come out harsher than Draco planned, but he can't help it. Percy is sat there, basically drooling over you, and it's driving him mad. It's been driving him mad from the instant he got that stupid thought stuck in his brain that maybe – just maybe – you and Percy were something a little more than just the best of friends.

  Percy is grinning, though.

  Draco scowls. “What's so funny?”

  “You really like them, don't you?”

  “I never said-”

  “Personally, I wouldn't touch Y/N with a six foot pole,” Percy continues, which just makes Draco even angrier, and he no longer knows just what he wants. “I'm talking about my girlfriend, Annabeth. The blonde girl. Daughter of Athena.”

  It takes a moment for Draco to remember who Annabeth is. But then it dawns on him, and suddenly everything is making sense.

  His cheeks warm again. “Oh. Right.”

  “Yep. So that's that.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Nah, don't be. It's not me you need to apologise to.”

  Draco bites his lower lip, understanding that Percy is right; he said some awful things, and he put you on the spot when you really didn't deserve it. You were doing nothing more than talking about your best friend, and Draco let his own jealousy push to the forefront.

  He looks over at Percy to see the demigod grinning again, an expression he often seems to have. Draco wonders why you don't like him, why you decided to spend all those hours with him instead of Percy.

  And as if Percy can read his mind, he says, “Y/N likes you too, you know. Like, properly likes you.”

  Draco pushes up from the grass, gives Percy a grateful smile before heading out on his mission – to apologise.

  ----

  You run into Lucius Malfoy shortly after Percy storms off.

  It's quite a chance meeting, though part of you can't help but feel that maybe Lucius had it all planned out from the beginning. He holds himself like a man who knows exactly what he wants, like a man who doesn't understand what a chance meeting is.

  You pause in the grass, watching him wade towards you. In your hand, you hold your sword, but that clearly isn't enough of an intimidation tactic against the tall, pale wizard. He stops only when he's feet in front of you, and with his posh accent, he says, “Y/N.”

  “Mr Malfoy.”

  “Where is Draco?”

  “Beats me. He isn't my son.”

  Lucius's nostrils flare. “Can you put that sword down whilst talking to me, please? It's disrespectful.”

  You look at the celestial bronze blade and tilt it back and forth. The sun hits off the hilt, illuminating the Greek words inscribed upon it. “No. I quite like it in my hand.” You look back at Lucius and smile pleasantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr Malfoy? Are you lost?”

  Lucius grits his teeth. Something throbs in his jaw, and honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he were to draw back now and punch you square in the face.

  Or he could just cast a spell, or whatever it is wizards do.

  “You know, Y/N, Draco has told me an awful lot about you,” he growls.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. And quite frankly, the details he has given me only further prove my theory that your kind are just unnatural.”

  He's only trying to wind you up. You keep that in mind as you stand before him, listening to him spew such hatred; you could so easily just chop him to pieces right now. You could end this for everybody, but you think of Draco and how he would react and that thought alone is enough to silence the violent thoughts before you lose grip on your powers.

  “I'm sorry you think that,” you mumble. “Hopefully you'll be out of camp soon enough and won't have to bother with my kind for much longer.”

   Lucius laughs. There's no humour in it. It makes you ill just listening to it. “He told me about your little parlour trick – raising the dead, is it?”

  “Controlling the dead.”

  “That's Dark Magic, dear. That's the devils work if I've ever heard of it.”

  You open your mouth to respond, but the chance is ripped away by the sound of someone else's voice ringing in your ear.

  “I don't really enjoy being called the devil. He and I are two very different legends.”

   You close your eyes. “Dad, go home.”

  He doesn't listen to you. Of course he doesn't. Instead, he steps up to your side and places a warm hand on your shoulder. When you look up, he's smiling at Lucius with the same pleasant smile you gave him only seconds before – the pleasant smile that hides the fact you're on the verge of murdering someone.

  “Is there a problem here?” Hades asks.

  “Who are you?” Lucius demands, and you very nearly laugh at his stupidity.

  Hades actually does laugh at his stupidity as he motions between you. “Surely you notice the family resemblance?”

  Lucius stares, and then it all clicks into place. His eyes widen, mouth dropping open in a look you can only label horror. He stumbles back and says, “Hades?”

  “A god,” you pipe up. “So watch what you say. I can't hold this one back.” You turn to Hades with an exasperated look. “Who let you crawl out of Tartarus again?”

  “Nobody lets me do anything, dear,” Hades replies, keeping his eyes on the horrified Lucius Malfoy. “I just heard what our little friend here was saying to you, and I thought I'd come and put him in his place. Can't have someone insulting my dear child, can I?”

  “You've never intervened before.”

  Hades pushes you backwards, ignoring what you've just said. “So, Lucius; would you like a little duel beforehand, or are you just going to let me end your life, plain and simple?” He pauses, and when Lucius doesn't reply, he adds, “There's no shame in taking the easy way out.”

  “Dad-”

  “Stay out of this, Y/N. This is between me and-”

  “Dad? What's wrong?”

  Your head snaps up. Draco is stumbling down the hill, eyebrows raised as he glances between Hades and his father. Your heart jumps at the sight of him.

  “Draco, pack up your things,” Lucius demands, staring at Hades as if afraid to look away lest your dad make any sudden movements. “We're leaving.”

  “Oh, happy days!” You rush forward and grab your fathers elbow, dragging him back as much as you can. “Did you hear that, Dad? They're leaving!”

  “I'm not going anywhere.”

  You whirl on Draco. “What do you mean you're not going anywhere? Can't you see the predicament we're in right now?”

  Draco raises his brow, clearly still confused as to what the hell he has just walked in on. “Who is this?”

  “This is my dad.”

  Draco's skin pales even more, if that is even possible. Hades turns, gives the young boy a pleasant little wave before he starts rolling up his sleeves, eyeing Lucius up again.

  “Oh, right,” Draco squeaks.

  You turn your attention back to Hades, latching onto his arm yet again. “Come on, Dad. This is pointless. They're leaving camp-”

  “Y/N, I'm not going anywhere before we talk.”

  “Draco, this really isn't the time-”

  “Make up your mind, Lucius. . .” Hades sing-songs. “Quick and easy, or slow and painful? I can do both.”

  Your heart hammers in your chest; this is not how you wanted things to go, not at all. You wish to every other god listening that Draco will just agree to go with his father, that he will leave and never return.

  But you don't really want that, do you?

  “Curse you, Zeus, you mind-reading bitch,” you hiss beneath your breath.

  Draco glances at you. “What?”

  “Never mind.” You grab Draco's shoulders and shove him back. “Just go, Draco, please. My dad is going to-”

  But you never get to tell Draco what your dad is going to do, not before Lucius Malfoy cries out, “Avada Kadavra!”

  You don't understand what's happened; the words just yelled by the Malfoy man are unfamiliar to you, jibberish if you've ever heard it, but Draco cries out and dashes forward. A blinding flash of light slams makes you stumble before Draco's arms wrap around your waist, throwing you to the ground with him hovering over you. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from your own, but neither of you get to bask in each others closeness, because all hell has suddenly broken loose.

  Hades is so powerful. Sometimes you forget that. You've read the stories, and you know he's a god, but sometimes, all he is to you is your annoying dad who shows up every now and then to be annoying, and then he leaves. Sometimes you forget he can literally raise the dead in two point six seconds.

  And judging by the corpses now stumbling around you, that's exactly what he has done.

  “Oh my god,” Draco mumbles.

  You push him away and clamber to your feet. “Dad, stop!”

  The wind is billowing, however, and your words fall on deaf ears. Lucius has fallen to the floor, staring up at your father with a look of pure, unfiltered horror. Hades stands over him, now in full god form, and the sight is breathtaking. He's at his full height now, standing over everyone with his arms outstretched. Dirt billows around him, and a black light emanates from his body, blinding if you weren't his child. Draco has fallen to the floor, covering his head with his arms, and you are so, so happy he has the common sense to look away.

  You stumble forward, latching onto your fathers clothes. “Dad, stop this now! Please!”

  “How dare you?” Hades's voice shakes the trees. His eyes are pitch black. He is a god. “How dare you use your filthy wizard spells against my child?”

  “I'm fine!” you cry. “Dad, I'm fine! Draco saved me! Look!” You helplessly wave your arms over your head. Beside you, a corpse laughs a high pitched laugh. You glare at it and say, “Shut up.”

  The wind only grows stronger as Hades continues to bellow his threats and his curses. Lucius is too stunned to even move. Behind you, Draco cries out your name, tries reaching for your sleeve, but you pull away and continue yelling up at your father, trying to make him see sense.

  “Dad, I'm fine! If you kill him, I'll never forgive you!” You grapple for something else, some other excuse you can use. “I'll – I'll never come back to Camp Half-Blood! I'll stay in the mortal world forever and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!”

   Hades falters. He glances down at you with those dark, sunken eyes and he says, “You know you're not safe there, Y/N. Don't joke about such things.”

  “Then let him go,” you beg. “Please, Dad. I never ask you for anything, but I'm asking – begging – you for this. Just let him go.”

   Hades tilts his head. “You're standing up for this piece of dirt?”

  “Draco,” you pant, as if that is enough explanation. “Draco just saved my life, Dad. The least you can do is spare his fathers life.”

  The wind dies down. Dirt topples back to the floor. The walking corpses drop to their knees before the soil reaches around them and drags them back into their graves, where hopefully they will remain for another few years. Slowly, your father shrinks back down to his usual five seven stature, his eyes gaining their normal dark colouring again. He continues staring.

  You stare back for only a second before you spin on your heel and march towards Draco. You yank him up by his collar and shove him back, hissing, “Go grab your stuff and get out of here. This is the shit you're gonna get wound up in if you stay. You don't deserve that.”

 Draco, flustered, grabs your shoulders and pushes back, keeping himself rooted to the ground. You want to cry. You need him to leave. You need him to be safe. You can't let him witness something like that ever again.

  “Please, Draco,” you croak out. “Save yourself the bother-”

  “You're crying.”

   You groan, quickly swiping beneath your eyes to rid yourself of the tears you didn't even realise were falling. “No, I'm not.”

   Draco wraps his arms around you and drags you into his shoulder. You don't really know why you melt into him in the way you do; it just kind of happens. Feeling the fabric of his shirt against your cheek, his arms around your shoulders, his body against yours – it's as if all the stresses of the evening flood out of you in a single swoop, replaced by a relief you didn't even know you were in such dire need of.

  It's like Hades and Lucius don't even exist any more. It's just you and Draco, swaying back and forth in the darkness, saying nothing and that being enough.

  “I'm not going anywhere,” he whispers. “Not until you know.”

  You pause, but don't pull away. “Until I know what?”

  “That – That you're special.”

  You look up, raising a brow. “Is that a demigod joke?”

  Draco groans, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “No. That's not what I meant. I meant – like – you're special to me.”

  “Okay...”

 He squeezes his eyes closed. “What I'm saying is, I don't want to leave you. I don't want to go back to the wizarding world and pretend I never met you. I want this – whatever this is – to last a long, long time.”

  Your heart thunders in your chest. Beneath you, the ground rumbles, like the floor is hungry. “Draco...”

  “I don't care what my father thinks of it,” he says, voice lower now. “I haven't been this happy in forever. I haven't met anyone like you before, and I'm so, so grateful you don't hate me.” He blinks. “Percy told me that, by the way – that you don't hate me. He wasn't lying, was he?”

  You laugh. “No, he wasn't lying.”

  “Oh, great.” He pulls you closer. “So, as I was saying-”

  “Oh, for the love of me!” Hades claps his hands impatiently. “Just kiss them already, you idiot! Why do mortals take so long to get to the point?”

  Draco looks over your shoulder, face going red. “Are you giving me permission to kiss Y/N?”

  Hades rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes. Just get on with it. I'm ageing.”

  “You're immortal, old man.”

  “Watch your mouth, little one, or you're grounded.”

  Your laugh is broken by Draco's kiss.

  In the background, Lucius yells in frustration, but he quietens as soon as he looks at Hades. You don't even care, though, because once again, it's like neither of them are really there. It's just you and Draco. There is no world separating you, there is no problems, you are the same. His hands trail along your jawline before crawling over the back of your neck, holding you in place, as if you would ever willingly pull away.

  Beneath you, the ground continues to growl. You imagine it's the dead people giving you a round of applause.

---

“Lumos.”

  You crack an eye open. Beside you, Draco shifts, lifting the covers further over his head. Through the thin material of the quilt, you can make out a dim yellow glow coming from Draco's wand.

  You roll onto your back, nudging his arm with your elbow. He pauses, taking a few seconds before he pulls the covers back down, revealing his messy bed head and bare torso. He gives you a grin and says, “What are you doing awake?”

   “You woke me,” you reply, before nodding towards the book resting on his lap. “What's that?”

  “Oh, this? Nothing. Just a little book I picked up from the library the last time I was at Hogwarts.”

  You raise a brow; you haven't seen Draco casually read in quite a while. Any time he has his head stuck in a book, it's usually to learn some new potion, or some new spell that he can show the harpies to impress them when they ask for a magic show. However, looking down at the book currently perched on his knees, you can see this isn't just some simple recipe book for wizards – the pages are filled with text, with very little pictures to accompany them.

  “Can I read it with you?” you ask.

  Draco's cheeks light up. “Maybe you should just go back to sleep. It's pretty late-”

  He goes quiet when you rest your drowsy head on his chest, tugging the quilt up to your chin. You hear him sigh, a noise of content before he looks down at the page and places his wand beneath the words. In bold at the top is the title Hades and Persephone.

  “Oh, my mum hated her,” you say.

  Draco chuckles. “I can imagine.”

   You trace your eyes over the words. You can't really make them out with your dyslexia, but Draco reads them for you, because he knows. He reads the story of your father and his true wife, pausing to ask you your opinions, or if you know anything about any of it. You tell him you don't, but you want him to keep reading, so he does, and together you learn about your father and his ways.

  Finally, when Draco reaches the end of that particular story, you look up at him and say, “Why are you reading this?”

   He shrugs. You don't buy it, though, and continue waiting for his response. He rolls his eyes at your patient silence and says, “Remember when you asked me if I'd ever read any of the Greek myths?”

  You raise a brow. “Yes...”

  “I hadn't read any of them. But I realised it's kind of part of your history, isn't it? These myths, the people and things you talk about. If I really want to understand you, I have to get familiar with a few of these terms, don't I?”

   A lump forms in your throat. “You're reading these for me?”

  “Of course.” He slams the book closed and says, “Quiz me. I can tell you who Demeter is right now.”

  You stare at him a moment longer, overwhelmed beyond words. Instead of giving Draco a pop quiz on all things Greece, you reach up and press your lips to his own, whispering the unknown words of “I love you,” against his mouth.

  Draco chuckles, the sound like music to your ears. “I love you, too.”

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[birlcholtz]

Fic Questions

tagged by @the-lincyclopedia thank you!! (fun game: watch my writing get progressively less formal as the post continues. by the end it’s like what is capitalization)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

77!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

434,378 as of this week but it does go up quite regularly

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Okay so in terms of what’s on my AO3, I have Check Please, All For the Game, Sharp Zero, HP, and Miraculous Ladybug. I also have The Forbidden LOTR and PJO Fanfiction (as in, I’ve written it, but it’s never seeing the light of day)

(technically there is a PJO fic out there that has seen the light of day but I orphaned it because I was tired of getting comments asking about when it would be updated)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

and then i met you (and the whole world changed)

for the better

Knew It Was You

come home (to you, to us)

sin bin schematics

All of these are Check Please and all of them except Knew It Was You are part of my Zimbits Airport AU!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! It’s actually a very recent thing that I’ve started not responding to literally every single comment. Mainly I respond because I love talking about my writing so I am going to seize that opportunity when it comes up

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, DEFINITELY Happy Birthday (HP). Check out that MCD tag ahah. (I say HP but what I really mean is that I write fic about Regulus Black. The Regulus Black-centric tag is my home in the HP fandom)

fun fact: this is a very short fic that I wrote when I was 15 and basically forgot about until recently, and then I reread it recently and went holy shit?? I pulled NO punches????

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the wildest one you’ve written?

Not a ton? I think a lot of the fandoms I write for don’t really mesh that well. That being said, the aforementioned orphaned PJO fic is actually a PJO/ML crossover, so there’s that

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope! Sometimes I get comments that are just.... really confusing? And a more common thing is that in my AFTG fic I’ll get comments from people who are so focused on Andreil (or the most common ships in general) to the point that like. they miss the point of what I actually wrote. Those are annoying but they’re not hate, they’re very enthusiastic, they’re just... enthusiastic about a story I’m not writing? So it’s a bit frustrating.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No sjflskgjhgf I struggle enough to write kissing, I think if I ever tried to write smut my brain would just shut down. I’ve managed some fade-to-blacks (which are mostly in WIPs that haven’t been posted) but they rely HEAVILY on the powers of implication

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, although I have occasionally made a brief go of it, not to post, more as an exercise for myself in a language that I’m learning. Anyway I never finish them so I’m gonna say no

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? I’ve definitely group brainstormed fics and then written them (the best example of this being Q&A (AFTG), which was the product of a truly off-the-walls group chat), but I tend to do all the actual writing myself. I think the way I write would drive a co-writer up the wall since it’s very disorganized and I don’t write stuff down because ~I know what’s gonna happen I don’t need notes~ and it would infuriate me if I was co-writing with me lmao, so I won’t inflict that on someone else

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I regularly move through ships I’m SUPER focused on, like it’s kind of a rotation. I will forever and always ship Percabeth though.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Okay so if you follow me at @birlwrites you may know this already, but i have this ‘warmups’ document that is just like, random ideas i get that i don’t necessarily want to finish but i just want to try out for a bit? and i have a rule that once a ‘warmup’ is more than 10 pages long (so 11+) then it has to be moved to its own document, just to make scrolling through the warmups doc easier. but usually, a warmup only passes 10 pages when i’m INTO it. so i have a bazillion wips i will probably never finish. i complain about this a lot. i have so many wips. i don’t need more.

here’s one: it’s titled ‘interrobang doesn’t know they’re dating’, it’s basically a full outline for a chowder/tango fic and it would be SO cool if i could ever like. get around to writing it. but i am constantly swamped with writing projects, so it’s probably not gonna happen. if anyone’s interested in adopting it though i’d be down for that!! i think it’s a fun idea i just almost def won’t write it myself

15. What are your writing strengths?

SNAPPY DIALOGUE AND SNARKY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE. my writing is COMEDIC, 90% of my ideas are based on a funny snippet that popped into my head, a lot of my worldbuilding is based on ‘hey you know what would be hilarious’ (whenever i explain how larai selects a chosen one in the rainfall universe i start laughing, which is a STARK contrast to how it plays out on the page), i love writing funny stuff!!

also i think my writing sounds nice, a lot of the time i pick words/syntax based on sound and flow so there’s that too. and i have lots of ideas! i don’t struggle much with writer’s block because a) i have a lot of strategies to deal with it and b) i have a lot of ideas to help get around it/work with it

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

PHYSICAL INTIMACY LMAO, sometimes in my end notes on shippy fics you can see me complaining ‘it took me literally 4 hours to write that very brief kiss’. also sometimes the humor in my writing gets in the way a bit, i have to very consciously put it away so characters can actually have serious, genuine emotions. also i don’t like outlining and i tend not to get betas for fanfiction so like..... i do my best continuity-wise but having really tightly plotted stories is just not my focus lol. (and i do put more effort into that for original stuff, it’s just fic where i kind of go wild)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If the reader’s supposed to know what it means, then writing it in another language is iffy for me. (stuff like terms of endearment which come up a lot in fic are fine imo, you can just put a note in to translate them and your reader will prob remember)

If the pov character isn’t supposed to understand it, and it doesn’t matter if the reader understands it, then ig it’s fine? but unless you already speak the other language (and i am NOT confident in my ability to translate english into literally any other language), then i think it’s way easier to just note that a character’s speaking x language and provide tone indicators, body language cues, etc. so the reader understands as much as the pov character.

That being said there are def times when it’s used super effectively--the dialogue in spanish in cemetery boys comes to mind! that’s not fanfic but it’s still creative writing so w/e

so i guess it comes down to: does actually writing out the dialogue in the other language serve a purpose? if it doesn’t, then you’re filling up the screen with words your reader isn’t likely to understand, which i try to avoid doing

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

so the first fandom i actually *wrote* for was PJO, but i distinctly remember creating warrior cats OCs when i was little. i never actually did anything w them but i had them and my favorite was a riverclan warrior named shellstream i remember this VIVIDLY

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh boy. okay so this is hard because i feel like i’m continuously improving as a writer. like in the sense that my writing is getting closer and closer to really matching my own taste? my favorites tend to always be my current projects as a result. and i do really love set those ghosts alight (HP) but it feels a little like cheating to say a fic i haven’t even finished writing yet. even though it’s def not cheating, that’s just the direction my brain is taking it.

i’m gonna say and then what? (OMGCP) because i’m super proud of the prose (especially ch 2 aka the first actual prose chapter), survived by (HP) for SUCCESSFULLY WRITING AN EMOTION and making readers cry :), and Q&A (AFTG) because i’m literally the one who wrote it and yet it still makes me wheeze. those are all fics i reread occasionally, because i’m big enough to admit i enjoy rereading my old stuff! (just like. to a point. some of my old stuff i can’t look at anymore because all the mistakes stick out to me like they have spotlights shining directly on them)

this was fun!! i’m gonna do an open tag because i just started my fall semester and brain tired. i know sometimes people see open tags and assume the op didn’t really mean it but I MEAN IT, PLEASE DO THIS AND TAG ME!!!!! YES YOU READING THIS

#tag games #long post #birl talks

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Equilibrium

Request: Hi! Ok I just hv to say, this is a little cheesy. But could I request a Harry Potter x tipsy/drunk!reader where Griffendor is at a quidditch after-game celebration, and Fred and George snuck alcohol into the drinks. Y/n ends up drinking too much causing them to be cocky/confident, and stumbles into Harry knocking him over, trapping him underneath the reader?

A/N: Here’s your request! I hope you like it! I have a problem, I can't stop writing make out scenes with Harry. There's another one in this. It’s an addiction, I need to stop but I can't. Anyway, enjoy reading! Love to you all!

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, tipsiness, drunk teenagers, making out, shameless flirting from both parties

Word count: 1.5k

There was always a party in the common room whenever Gryffindor won a Quidditch game. But the celebration was always sweeter and wilder when it was a Gryffindor victory against Slytherin.

“Courtesy of our friends, the Marauders.” Fred whispers to you, pouring two bottles of fire whisky into the punch bowl, stirring it thoroughly so the strong drink didn’t settle at the bottom of the bowl.

Students descend on it; pouring the heady concoction into cup after cup, passing them down the line that was quickly forming.

You take your drink, drinking a tentative sip, enjoying the warmth that was slowly spreading through your body. It made your limbs feel like jelly, but you enjoyed the feeling.

The centre of the common room has become a makeshift dancefloor. One of the Fifth Years brought down her record player and her collection of vinyl records. George Weasley bewitched it to play louder and so music had begun to play through the Gryffindor common room. The familiar voice of Freddie Mercury begins to empower the muggleborn students who begin to belt out the lyrics to the song playing, putting all their feelings into it.

You spy Hermione singing along to the song with a bewildered Ron looking down at her; you smile to yourself wondering when they’re going to get together.

Your find Harry sat on the couch that was now pressed against the furthest wall. He’s taking slow sips of his drinks; his blue eyes glancing around the party as if he’s looking for someone. A smile breaks out across his face when his eyes finally land on you; a smile you can’t help but return. Your heart races as he eyes refuse to leave your; your feelings for the messy-haired teenager had grown over time and more often than not, you felt overwhelmed by your feelings for him.

“Enjoying yourself, Harry?” You ask, sitting in the empty seat next to him.

Harry nods, raising his cup to yours, “Of course! Gryffindor beat Slytherin and I’m sat next to you – what more could I need?”

“You’re a shameless flirt, Harry.” And he was. Harry was completely hopeless when he was sober but the confidence he got when he drank made him a shameless flirt.

“Only for you.” He states.

A pleasant buzz runs through your body. Partly down to the alcohol running through your veins; fogging your mind slightly but also partly because of the teenager sat next to you, nursing his own cup of spiked punch.

Harry had a large smile on his face; lighting up his features. The smile hadn’t left his face since he caught the Golden Snitch and won them the match against Slytherin. The Quidditch cup was practically within their reach now.

Student after student had been coming up to Harry all night, congratulating him on a match well played. It made conversation between the two of you difficult; Harry throwing you apologetic glances every time you were interrupted. And every time you reassured him – it was okay., he was the seeker that won them the match, you truly didn’t mind.

But you could see that it was starting to grate on Harry a little bit. Since arriving at Hogwarts six years ago, he had been the centre of attention time and time again throughout the year. Sometimes, he wanted to sit down and drink spiked punch with his friends and have a laugh.

You’re about to suggest leaving when Harry leans into you and all clear thoughts leave your mind.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Harry asks, his mouth close to your ear.

“Have you had enough for tonight?” You ask back, your cheek brushing his. You’re so close to him that you feel his nod rather than see it.

You stand from your seat in the couch, holding your hand out to him. “Let’s get some air.”

He takes your hand, letting you pull him from the common room. He doesn’t miss the catcalls from both Fred and George as he ducks under the portrait hole.

Fresh air hits you like a brick wall; you grip Harry’s hand tighter to keep yourself steady.

He grips your hand back just as tight.

Harry takes the lead as he pulls you through corridor after corridor before stopping in the courtyard.

The moon is full in the sky; bleaching the colour from your surroundings, everything taking on a grey hue. You sit down at the benches surrounding the fountain in the centre of the courtyard. The breeze is cold but it’s cooling against your heated skin.

Harry hasn’t let go of your hand, and you hope he never does. You love the feeling of his hand in yours.

“Thanks for coming with me.” Harry says, head tipped back to look at the night sky.

“Always. You know that.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“I disagree, I believe I am the perfect amount of good for you.”

He turns to look at you; finding your eyes already on him, as they so often are these days.

“I need to tell you something.” Harry whispers.

“You can tell me anything,” You reassure.

“I know we’re only young, but I’m certain I’m in love with you.”

Tears form in your eyes; overemotional due to the earlier drinking, “I’m certain I’m in love with you too.”

Harry smiles; a wide smiling that has you mesmerised. “Can I kiss you?”

“I think I may combust if you don’t.”

Harry laughs but his hand reaches forward to cradle your face, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone. You begin to lean in, but the angle at which you’re sitting and the buzz from the alcohol has you overbalanced.

You don’t kiss him; you knock him onto his back, onto the floor, and you’re sprawled on top of him.

You look at Harry, shocked into soberness. Harry looks down at you, stunned.

He starts to laugh, full barrel belly laughs. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him laugh like this; with his whole body.

It’s contagious. Your body begins to shake with laughter; giggles falling from between your lips.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, laughter breaking up the words. You nod; your equilibrium entirely knocked sideways due to the spiked punch courtesy of the Weasley twins.

The remaining alcohol in your body makes you brazen. You straddle Harry’s lap, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you ask, “Are you laughing at me, Potter?”

He lifts himself up, balancing on his elbows, “Of course not. I would never dream of doing such a thing.

You lean into him, rubbing your nose against his. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Harry smiles wickedly, “Where were we before?”

You tap a finger to your lips, humming as you pretend to think. Harry watches each tap of your finger.

“I think,” You start, “I was leaning in and you were about to meet me halfway.”

“Oh… so like this,” Harry says, turning his face up to yours.

“That looks about right, and I think I was somewhere about here,” You whisper, leaning down to meet him.

He’s so close to you; his breath fans your lips.

It starts off so innocent despite the alcohol swimming in both of your systems. Then you gasp against his mouth, and Harry’s hand works its way into your hair, keeping your mouth against his. He groans softly against your mouth, delighting in the feel of you against him. Your hands are on his chest, screwed tightly into his button-down shirt. All of him is pressed against you, and you inhale the scent of broom oil, cloves and sweet orange – the smell so distinctly Harry.

The lack of oxygen is making your head spin, or is it the feel of his lips against yours? Either way, you’re becoming short of breath.

You pull away; breathless, dazed.

Harry continues to press slow, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. The kind of kisses that have every sentient thought leaving your head; throwing them into the wind.

“Harry,” You whisper.

He hums, kissing a particular spot on your neck that has your legs turning to jelly.

“We need to go inside; we’re going to get caught.”

Harry pulls away, reluctantly. His lips are swollen, and his eyes are bright. It takes everything in you not to pull him in for one more kiss.

You stand on weak legs, holding out your hand to him once again, helping him to his feet. Once standing, he tangles your fingers together.

The walk back to the Gryffindor common room takes longer than it should really with Harry drawing you in for a kiss every few steps.

Eventually though, you make it. The party has died down now; only a few stragglers drinking together in a small circle.

You head upstairs to the dormitories; dreading the moment when you have to let go of his hand and leave him for the night.

The moment doesn’t come. Instead, Harry draws you into his arm, kissing you softly, whispering against your mouth, “Stay the night?”

You pull yourself away from him, “Potter, I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything,” He answers, worried about the seriousness of your voice.

“If I ever, ever say no to that, I want you to hex me. And use a long lasting one.”

Harry laughs, the sound music to your ears. He kisses you again, “I promise. Now, let’s go to bed.”

“Lead the way, Harry.”

*****

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @slytherinprincess03 @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis @masterofthedarkness @bforbroadway @chaotic-fae-queen @peachesandpinks @nebulablakemurphy @haphazardhufflepuff @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @firewhisky-kisses

#harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x female reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter drabble #Harry Potter #harry james potter #My writing #harry potter fluff #harry x reader #harry x you #harry x y/n #hp fanfic #hp fandom #hp fanfiction #HP #hjp #fluff #harry fluff #cute

[sanvitheartificer]

time for “I’m gonna screw up my courage and post creative ideas, i guess”  latest little interest-drift is Megamind, which i DID see once, when it came out? I should rewatch it, but that would require tracking it down, and i’m pretty sure I’m going to be bored of the movie by the time I can make myself do that.  I mention this because this is going to be.... nooooot well researched, i guess? like I’m going off fanfic and vague recollections of a movie i watched 10 years ago and i refuse to double check anything because the POINT is to be honest about what I’m thinking about without having to make it well-put-together. 

so, this is a fun idea! but not a good one. 

anyway: concept for a fic i’ll never write! it’s a post-canon time-travel fix-it story where Megamind saves his planet. I’m Pretty Sure that Megamind universe specifically doesn’t allow time travel/a redo button, BUT i have a way around that.  once i read a really interesting harry potter fic wherein George saved Fred. in HP time travel seems to work okay, as long as you’re doing something that you already did -- Harry sees his future self saving himself, for example. So in this fic, George went back in time, hid from everyone in the past, and made Fred’s death look exactly like he remembered -- but secretly saved him. It had always happened that way; Fred had never actually died in that battle; everyone just thought he did. And then George took Fred back to the future! and he was alive after that, just missing, like, a year of his life or whatever. (i might be getting which twin dies mixed up and i’ll tell you what: i literally don’t care)  This has always been a fascinating concept that I’ve wanted to use in something, and a universe like Megamind where I’m (pretty sure?) they say “reset buttons aren’t a thing” is perfect for it.  So! Post canon, Megamind is a hero, is traumatized, is dating Roxanne, etcetera. at some point “I’m literally the last of my species and so is Minion” comes up. 

Roxanne... wonders. about this. it’s horrifically traumatic, of course, and he did say that thing about reset buttons being impossible, but... also. also? she’s seen a LOT of impossible things, lately. She asks Megamind some subtle, theoretical, “just curious” questions about time travel. What, exactly, is impossible about it? 

You can’t change what’s already happened, he says. Paradox. The time-space continuum won’t let it happen. Trust me, I tried. You can... you can go back, but you can’t change anything, all you can do is, is, walk around an empty field maybe, at the most. 

He looks so sad at that that she stops pushing. But Minion keeps records of almost every experiment they’ve ever tried, every machine they’ve ever built and she has access, now, and... it could work. She’s just human, she’s not sure, but she thinks maybe it could work, she could give him -- give him a world, she laughs, a little hysterically, because sometimes people say “i want to give them the moon” and that’s supposed to be hyperbole and this is -- this is even bigger, somehow, what is she even thinking -- 

but she keeps thinking about it. is the thing.

megamind goes quiet, still, when she finally brings it up, and roxanne flinches but meets his gaze. she won’t back down from this. not when it’s this, not when there’s a chance she could save a whole world. two worlds, even!

he’s angry, and he’s scared, and minion at his side isn’t playing peacekeeper like he normally would, because minion looks just as angry, or maybe even more. 

how could you, minion says, roxanne, how could you, and roxanne flinches but she meets his gaze, and she has never seen minion so angry in her life. 

tell me it won’t work.

she looks, steady, in both their faces, caving in with a grief bigger than she can imagine, the anger of a hundred trillion billion lives, just gone. 

Tell me it won’t work, and I won’t -- I’ll -- I can’t make up for telling you this, for asking you this, she says, I can’t, but I’ll say what I can, I’ll do what I can to fix it. But first tell me it won’t work, that it’s completely impossible, because if it’s possible it’s -- it’s your world, and her voice cracks, because she can’t say anything bigger than that, because there is no poetry in the universe that could contain a loss that immense. 

and megamind shakes his head, and minion’s fists are clenched so hard the metal creaks, and neither of them. says. anything. 

Megamind discovers, after figuring out how to compare earth time to time thirty years in the past in another part of space, that the black hole actually should not have destroyed his planet for an hour. after what he remembers. it’s not... clear, of course, because anyone who was close enough to measure this accurately is dead. but. but it doesn’t match up, and maybe it’s his calculations, or his memories; he was eight days old; maybe he’s wrong 

(maybe he’s not. maybe there’s. maybe there’s a possibility.) 

and once he’s started thinking about it he can’t stop. of course he can’t stop. it’s his world, every person who looks like him in the whole universe, it’s -- he’s lived on earth his entire life, but this is -- 

Megamind starts theorizing about making something that looks a lot like a black hole, that could transport entire planets through time. he starts doing experiments. if you take something forward -- if no one knows -- 

it seems to work, somehow; it’s so complicated that even Megamind isn’t entirely sure why, or how, this will work. he can’t stop a black hole, but maybe he can swallow up his world, steal it away before it gets a chance, maybe he can -- he thinks of his parent, saying, “you are destined for -- “ and laughs and laughs because maybe what he destined for is! is this! to destroy his entire planet before the black hole even gets there! maybe he is -- maybe he is -- 

but the thing is. there will be a device. a very large device, and he’ll have to somehow simulate a black hole swallowing two planets whole, he’ll have to find some way to yank them all forward; he needs someone who’s impossibly strong, who can move fast. an hour, an hour (57 minutes 33 seconds 12 milliseconds --  will it be enough? could it possibly be enough?) they could arrive sooner but no one can see them and even he can’t sustain a jump for very long, not when they want to bring two planets back with them -- he needs. wayne. he needs metro man. 

they talk. sometimes. it’s awkward. wayne hasn’t gotten any better at guitar, even though it’s been three and a half years, now. megamind still doesn’t like him, but... well... he’s. metro man. they’ve always been something to each other, and it’s harder to give that up than he ever would have expected. besides, roxanne likes it, when they talk. she doesn’t like metro man, either, but she thinks he’s someone, too, was friends with him for a long time. it’s wrong, somehow, to just never talk to him, terrible music and decades of enmity and horrible betrayal of a faked death or not. 

on very rare occasions he even has semi-kind-of useful-ish advice about the whole “hero” thing. minion still refuses to acknowledge metro man’s continuing existence, but megamind is... he’s not. angry, or sad, that he didn’t actually die, that megamind didn’t actually kill him. whatever he is, it’s not sad. 

roxanne is there, when they talk to wayne. even minion is there, angry, angry, angry, but there, asking. 

wayne laughs. megamind asks him to help save both of their planets, billions and billions of sentient lives, and he laughs, like it’s a good joke, and roxanne thinks that this is the evillest laugh she’s ever heard and minion somehow looks even angrier than when she first brought up the possibility and he’s still -- he’s -- how can he possibly be this -- 

c’mon, he says, you’re not serious.

wayne is. he’s stupid, but he isn’t this stupid. roxanne pretended to date him for long enough that she recognizes the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. 

wayne is terrified. 

megamind looks ready to lunge at him invulnerable or not and minion just goes blank and roxanne grabs wayne’s arm, like she’s back at one of the endless fancy galas and he’s just said something thoughtless to the mayor, and she smiles with teeth, and she says, give me a minute alone with wayne, will you? thanks. 

they step aside and she rounds on him. 

they were serious, and you know it, she says, calm. that was cruel, she says, like she’s talking to a child. like she’s talking to someone who doesn’t know better. 

i, he says, and doesn’t complete the sentence. 

you. don’t have to help, she says, although the words scrape her throat; they can’t do this without him, and it’s not her world but it is -- it’s megamind’s world, it’s minion’s world, and she’s spent so long thinking -- trying to figure this out -- listening -- some days she can almost see it, before the black hole, before anything -- billions and billions and billions of lives -- but she is a reporter and she is used to talking neutrally about things that are not neutral at all so she says, you don’t have to help. but you can’t... don’t make fun of them. don’t pretend like it’s not serious. this is their home world, it’s their whole species, it’s, it’s your -- 

wayne interrupts her. THIS IS MY HOME, he roars, and he is frightening, now, three heads taller than roxanne already and floating three feet off the ground. this is! i! i’m! human!

his voice breaks. wayne never was a good liar. 

this is my home, he says, weakly, but wayne never was a good liar, and this time he isn’t lying at all. 

roxie, i’m tired, he says. i’m so tired of being the hero -- being the only one who can -- what if they don’t like me? he says, and he looks like a child, again, and he sounds like a child, again, an alien who could pretend, could pretend really well, but was never really -- 

wayne never was a good liar. except, of course, when he was lying to himself. 

wayne, she says, wayne. i won’t lie to you. this isn’t... fair. to ask you. you’re not a hero, anymore, and it’s not... fair. but. but... 

she takes a deep breath. 

you have a home. here. and you won’t. you won’t lose it, okay? I’m still your friend, and your parents are still, still your parents, still the people that raised you. we’re... we’re adding things, okay? we’re not taking them away. 

and you’re -- i’m so, so, so sorry wayne, but you really are the only one who can do it, this time. 

they are quiet, for a moment. and then roxanne says, quietly, have you ever heard him sing? 

wayne looks confused, past the anger, past the fear. he shakes his head. 

he only knows a few songs. they didn’t... he... he knows a few songs. he’s sung them for me, and told me what they -- wayne. there were sunsets, there, over the sea, the whole world lit up in red and blue and gold shining the ocean vibrating with music, and he says -- he told me, once, that your world had mountains, bigger than any of earth’s mountains, and once they lived at the very top, they -- 

stop, he says, soft, in all the ways wayne never is, 

music man, she says, don’t you want to listen to the music you never got to hear? 

stop, he demands, glass-fragile. 

he only knows a few songs, she says, bleakly. and her voice is like a black hole that wayne cannot remember, empty, empty with its impossible fullness. two entire worlds, and he only knows a few songs. 

okay, wayne whispers. 

okay. 

i’ll help. 

#megamind #ha HA this was. aha #i did NOT expect to write this much but okay then! #this isn't even done #i also have thoughts about culture shock and belonging and being displaced thirty years through time! actually! #and also the very Fraught dynamics of these four working together... #i would like to continue this on ao3 maybe but we'll see if i find myself able to do that. #please. talk to me about this. if you want to #i want to talk to people #time travel fix it #sanvi writes stuff! i guess!

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 12: All Hail Takumi

Castle building time! I built a giant dragon statue that heals units during invasions, which is nice I guess, and also an arena so I can make my soldiers fight to the death and bet on whether they perish! Unfortunately, when I went to use the arena, the dumb clerk said I couldn’t use it yet. Meanie.

Support: Hinata/Oboro

C: Hinata’s hair is too long, so Oboro cuts it for him. He requests she make him look like Takumi, because apparently one dude with a pineapple haircut is too few. The duo reflect on their mutual admiration of Takumi, their desire for his coolness to rub off on them, and their rivalry over who is more loyal.

B: Hinata offers to cut Oboro’s hair and she rejects him, saying that he will mess it up because he’s Hinata. The two of them continue talking about how cool Takumi is and how much they want to be like him.

A: Hinata and Oboro discuss the fact that they only bicker because they respect each other. Also, Takumi is cool. All hail Takumi.

S: The two of them get engaged, talking about Takumi throughout their proposals.

Review: Holy crap you two, shut up about Takumi. He isn’t even cool. They have good chemistry, but all they talk about is how much they love Takumi.

Support: Azama/Hinoka

C: Azama makes fun of Hinoka’s hair, clothes, and clumsiness, despite the fact that she’s a goddamn member of the royal family and probably could have him executed on the spot. She threatens to stab him and he brings up the fact that he’s only her retainer because he saved her life once.

B: Hinoka is sad over the deaths of innocent soldiers and Azama gives no sympathy because people die every day. She questions why he saved her when she was a child and he says he did it because she looked furious and he thought saving her would be interesting. She points out that he’s a horrible person, but says she respects his confidence.

A: Hinoka begs Azama to save a dying man and Azama says it isn’t worth the effort. When pressed, he says the man will die anyway. Hinoka orders him to do his damn job and he begrudgingly tries to save the dying man. He dies anyway, and Azama tells Hinoka that she should have just let him die peacefully, telling her that her kindness will be her downfall.

S: Azama goes up to Hinoka and tells her that they’re engaged. Hinoka kinda just goes along with it after Azama lists his good qualities.

Review: I actually kinda liked this one, oddly enough. Azama’s dickishness went so far that it looped around and made him likeable. This conversation touches on the horrors of war in a way that most conversations don’t and I do enjoy Azama teaching Hinoka that there are limits to her kindness. I just wish that Azama’s lackadaisy attitude was a facade, a la Hawkeye Pierce. The two of them, like most couples in this game, have little chemistry. Still, Azama going up to a member of the royal family and declaring the two of them engaged is so audacious I respect it.

Support: Corrin/Mozu

C: Mozu is lugging around some heavy boxes full of vegetables, because she is a strong little girl. This leads to a conversation about Mozu’s village; Corrin asks if Mozu misses her old life, Mozu says not to worry, Corrin says she’ll probably never stop worrying about Mozu.

B: Mozu talks about hunting as a child. Apparently she fought bears, because Mozu is a god of death.

A: Corrin decides to give Mozu a basic education, which Corrin is in no way qualified to do, considering that she has consistently shown herself to be the dumbest person in our army. Corrin says some stuff about the army being Mozu’s new family and Mozu cries. It’s sweet.

S: Corrin says he used to pity Mozu, but now has nothing but respect for her for her courage. The two of them get married.

Review: Corrin’s interactions with Mozu are very sweet. The S-Rank, again, doesn’t really work, but then again few S-Rank’s do. Overall, a very charming support line, if a bit bland. Also Mozu killed a bear with her bare hands because she is a terrifying death god disguised as a little girl.

Support: Hinoka/Setsuna

C: Setsuna makes Setsuna a cup of tea so bad it’s almost poisonous. The two of them discuss the fact that they both suck at cooking and decide to team up to become better chefs.

B: Hinoka and Setsuna try to make eggs. It does not go well.

A: The girls finally make a good meal by working together and decide they can do anything if they put their minds to it. Setsuna gets stuck in the pantry.

Review: This was a fluff support line, which is okay, I guess. I would have liked it to have a bit more meat, perhaps an explanation of why she made the walking disaster that is Setsuna her retainer, but I will admit that it was a fun read.

Birthright Chapter 10: Ninja Village

The party travels through Mokushu, the ninja country from Kaze and Saizo’s support conversation. Kaze says that he isn’t worried about the people of Mokushu being conquered by Nohr because of their sick martial arts prowess. Zola sneaks up on the party because...wait, hold on, they didn’t tie him up? We weren’t shown him escaping, so I guess that means they just let him go after he tried to kill him. My god, Corrin gets dumber with each passing moment.

Zola surrenders and begs for amnesty. Corrin asks why they should trust him and he says that they really shouldn’t, cause of the whole attempted murder thing. But, he doesn’t have an army anymore, which means he isn’t a threat. He says that he can be of assistance and Corrin decides to bring him along, ignoring objections from the smart people in the party. To be fair, she does say Hinoka will kill him if he acts suspicious, but seriously just leave him in Mokushu he’s obviously going to betray you. Want to know how I know? Because he didn’t join our army.

Suddenly, someone throws a shuriken at Sakura. Kaze identifies it as belonging to a Mokushu ninja. Zola speculates that Mokushu might have an alliance with Nohr. The daimyo of Mokushu, Kotaro, shows up and says that Mokushu has an alliance with Nohr. Then the battle starts.

The map is filled with spike traps that activate as we step on them. We can use the Dragon Veins to spring them on the enemies instead. At the start of turn two, Takumi just kinda wanders into the battle and starts shooting Hinoka, which is weird because she isn’t one of the sisters he hates. Also he keeps muttering kill and is labeled an enemy, which is probably bad. He also whines about his inferiority complex, which is why he’s way lamer than Ryoma.

Azura sings to him and breaks his mind control. What can’t singing do?

During this map, I was reminded that Takumi is an unstoppable death god who can kill everything with ease. I paired him up with Corrin and waltzed through the woods, one-shotting ninjas left and right. I did hold them back and let Saizo kill the boss, though. Because, you know, he killed Saizo’s dad, something only told in an optional support conversation. Saizo actually has unique dialogue with him where he does the whole Inigo Montoya thing. Although, it was technically Hinoka who did the finishing blow, because Saizo doesn’t hit hard enough to kill.

Overall, this map was fine, I guess. The spikes were more a nuisance than a serious game changer. I did get good healer HP, though. Speaking of healers, there’s one stationed in the top right of the map who watched as I killed every other member of the army and slowly approached her before putting an arrow between her eyes. We’re the good guys!

After the battle, Hinoka and Sakura cry over how happy they are that Takumi isn’t evil anymore. He explains that he and Ryoma were separated after being attacked and that he ended up falling into the bottomless canyon. Then he woke up mind controlled and attacking us. I’m sure that’s not something we need to worry about.

At the end of the chapter, Takumi is finally nice to Azura because she saved him. Also Azura starts coughing, which means she is definitely going to die at the end of the game.

Kaze returns with Kagero, Ryoma’s ninja retainer who was imprisoned in Kotaro’s cellar. She tells us that Ryoma went to Cheve to fight Nohr. And didn’t look for his brother ever, I guess.

Overall, this chapter was okay. The stuff with Zola was dumb and could have been handled last chapter, and the fact that is completely sidelines Saizo is kinda frustrating, but Takumi got some cool character development and there was some foreshadowing about the bottomless canyon.

#fates #fire emblem fates #takumi fe #corrin fe #mozu fe #corrin x mozu #hinata x oboro #hinata fe #oboro fe #saizo fe #mokushu #hoshido #nohr #azura fe #fire emblem 14 #fe 14 #fire emblem birthright

[missdawnandherdusk]

Break On Me

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    

Part Four     Part Five    Part Six

Summary: After reading your mother’s letter all walls between you and the Slytherin Prince seem to vanish as you spend a quiet night together, for the first time without masks on. 

A/N: I am really debating rewriting the entire rest of the HP series with this plot line... so let me know what you think of that. Because I am a firm believer that JKR did Draco wrong and that he deserves to be saved too. But who listens to me? I’m just a hopeless romantic with too much time on her hands. Also Hello! How are you guys? Please stay safe and stay creative.

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My hands lowered as my eyes lifted to Draco’s face. There were tears in his eyes.

“Draco? What’s wrong?” I dropped the letter and cupped his face, wiping away a stray tear. “It was just a letter. Please, don’t... don’t cry, because if you cry, I’m going to cry,” Tears started to sting my eyes.

A smile reached his face as a laugh bubbled through his lips. It was the first time I head heard him laugh without malicious intent.

“Draco?” I asked again, slightly confused.

“Your mother is proud of me?” He laughed. “No one... no one has ever...”

My heart fell for him. No one ever told him that they were proud of him? After everything he had achieved. I let out a hopeless laugh and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. His arms wound around me, holding me tightly.

“Let me make this better?” I begged softly. “Please Draco, let me show you how I see you. Forget names and houses and pure bloods and legacies.”

He nodded and his grip on me tightened. One of my hands curled into his hair, surprised by the softness of it. His frame shook as I held him, and I could hear the muffled cries that came from his lips. I held him closer, tears of my own escaping.

Why had it come to this? Who had the right to take a boy and twist him into cruelty and malice and think it was okay? When had names and legacies and rivalries become more important than helping each other? When had anything negated the right to be loved?

We ended up in a heap on the floor, holding each other and letting tears escape now and again for things that we both held back for so long. My mother’s letter was folded neatly and tucked into my robe pocket.

“It’s late,” He murmured softly, “We need to get back,”

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t want to go back,” I mumbled. “I don’t want to face...” I trailed off knowing exactly what awaited me when I got back to the Gryffindor common room.

He went rigid and his grip on me tightened.

“I’m going to kill that Potter,” He muttered venomously.

A smile touched my lips as I looked up at him through my eyelashes.

“No, you won’t,” I reaffirmed, taking a long breath in. “I knew what I was doing when I started this, and I’ll do what it takes... whatever it takes,”

“But they’re your friends,” He tried. “You’re going to give that up for me?” I pursed my lips and sat up a bit, looking at him directly.

“When are you going to realize that you’re worth so much more than what you believe?” I took his hand in mine. “And friend is a loose term, I told you before, Harry is...” I searched for the right word, “bearable.” I decided and shrugged. “Friends were never my strong suit.”

“Oh, you’re joking,” He scoffed. “You know everyone in the school! Everyone talks to you! Even first years!”

I laughed at his response and stood, pulling him up with me.

“And I have what? Two good friends? That I actually talk to?” I pointed out.

“So, you talk to Ron then?” He was glum again.

“Oh, my stars, Malfoy,” I laughed rolling my eyes. “You! You’re my other friend! If that’s even what this is and not...” I trailed off.

“Not?” He prompted, quirking an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“You’re making this very difficult,” I snapped, a smile on my face still. “I don’t know Draco, what is this?” I gestured to the two of us.

“What do you want it to be?” His voice was still teasing, but there was a tone of uncertainty underneath.

I gnawed on my lips trying to find the exact words that I wanted to say and not what first popped into my head which was “well, I wouldn’t mind kissing you any time I wanted.” But maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say at the moment.

“I have spent the last month trying to figure out what goes through your head when you’re quiet like this, for the love of Merlin tell me what you’re thinking.” He complained.

“The truth?” I squeaked, my face growing warm.

He nodded, his blue eyes interrogating me as he took another step forward. I could feel the electric current again that heightened all of my senses. As if there were a good sort of adrenaline.

I can’t believe that I was going to say what I actually thought or that he was the only one who could get me to say it. I hated him for it.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you any time I wanted,” I breathed out

“Is that so?” He was teasing me and we both knew it, but it still got under my skin.

“You’re such a twat,” I muttered, shaking my head and looking down, my cheeks a bright red no doubt.

“One you like kissing,” He taunted, a wicked grin on his face.

His hand came up and tilted my chin back so that I was forced to look at him. The same amused expression he used when he jeered at another student resided there, but it was somehow different—softer, kinder.

“So, are you gonna kiss me or not?” I tried to quip, but it came out as more of a plea.

We were inches apart again, and the same electric current ran between us. This time he acted on it, not me. His hand came up gently and cupped my face, letting his lips find mine. Something soft and slow.

A goodnight kiss.

My hands fanned out over his shoulders, grounding me to the world around us as his other hand held my waist again. No one knew this side of him, the gentle and protective. I did. And it made me want to cry all over again that I got to be the one to know him like this.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you any time I wanted either,” He murmured, his lips a breath away from mine as I struggled to recover—or not kiss him again.

_____________________

When he was close to you like this, away from it all, it was easy to believe you. Knowing that he could be more than a Malfoy, be more than a Slytherin, he clung to it, and he clung to you.

And the way you trusted him to be near—kiss you even—without fear or distain, meant the world to him. You were the last person who had any reason to and you were still there beside him.

There was so much to deal with and worry about, but you seemed to silence all of those thoughts and fears with a gentle touch, a kind look, or a chaste kiss.

And he wasn’t lying, he really wouldn’t mind kissing you any time. Everything about you screamed comfort and warmth, and it was his to take is he wanted, because you offered it to him, and only him and...

And he loved it.

He didn’t care about labels or relationship statuses; he just wanted you to be his and only his to kiss like this, to share his secret hiding spot, to cry on your shoulder alone, and find comfort in you alone.

“Really?” You voice was soft and careful—not his courageous Gryffindor, just his sweet Y/n. 

He nodded and watched your tongue dart between your lips, rewetting them as you thought.

“We should head back,” You murmured, your forehead resting against his. “I doubt Snape or McGonagall will be too forgiving.”

He feared leaving this place and leaving you. As if it might be some dream and he was going to be forced to wake up and go back to the way things were. As if it were some cruel trick that his mind wanted to play on him.

“Draco,” You chided, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Yeah?”

A laugh escaped from your lips as you pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before taking his hand and bending down to open the trap door. He watched you intently, and even more so than he had the past three weeks because now he had no reason to hide his careful gaze.

At the base of the staircase, you wrapped your arms around him once more in a short hug and— to his dismay—you ruffled his hair before taking off towards the Gryffindor Tower, tomorrow promised in your eyes.

Back in his own Common Room, there were a few lagging students who didn’t say anything to him or his death threatening glare as he headed up to his room.

Crabbe and Goyle both looked to him for answers, but he didn’t say a word. Instead he changed for bed and brushed up on his Care for Mythical Creatures notes before the lesson tomorrow. It deemed difficult to concentrate however because you always snuck back into his thoughts, either with a snide remark, or a gentle word, or a phantom touch that left him unable to focus.

So, he gave up studying and decided to answer your mother’s letter. 

~

Dear Mrs. Lupine

I will protect your daughter and try to live up to the version of me what she has presented to you. I cannot promise that I will always achieve it or that I won’t fail. But I will try to be someone worthy of her time and of her heart.

You are right in thinking that I think it’s preposterous that I am the Malfoy to mend the bond between muggle born and pure bloods. Not to mention that my father would have a few choice words of his own and I can hear them now.

But I have no doubt that whatever Y/n puts her mind to, she can achieve whether I help, or attempt stop her. She got through to me, didn’t she? But I will try to help her in whatever she decides.

I say this to you in confidence in hope that I may deserve the place your daughter has given me beside her.

Draco Malfoy

~

Sealing the letter, he sent it off into the night and turned in for bed with you all but there physically beside him.

________________________

I stood in front of the portrait of the fat lady and took a deep breath, gathering what courage and strength I had left and entered the Common Room.

But there was no one there. Maybe that was worse. I headed up to my room, cautions and on the lookout; I didn’t know what was waiting for me.

Back in my room I saw that Hermione had already gone to bed and the lamp beside my bed was the only thing that illuminated the room.

As quietly as possible, I pulled out a parchment and wrote a quick letter to my mother telling her that I would write her more when I figured out what I wanted to say. There was so much to sort through, but I would let her know soon enough. And that I loved her.

That left me alone with my thoughts again. Draco presided in most of them. His touch, his laugh, the way his eyes really were like the refreshing water of a spring. My thoughts drifted back to

Snape’s class and the antidote challenge. The taste of the antidote held a small candle to what it was like to be near Draco... did that mean that what my mother said about the... Consentire Animi Pace was true? That it could exist between us?

I huffed and stared at the ceiling, the thoughts ever circling. It laid there about an hour, no closer to sleep then when I had started. Giving up on the notion, I sat up and turned my lamp back on. Not really sure of what to do, I pulled out another parchment and wrote to Draco with Penelope twittering on my sill.

~

Draco,

I can’t sleep, so I’m writing this to you. I hope that you’re sleeping, you could use it.

I’ve been thinking about what my mother said about the soul bond, and then to Snape’s Bellum Amoris and Animi Amoris. I can only assume that they’re connected because... when I’m with you I feel like I did after the antidote. I hope that makes sense. If not I’m sure you’ll make fun of me for it.

I’m also terrified to face anyone tomorrow. I’ve never done anything like this and without you by my side I don’t know if I have the courage. Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t get together like this and not us of all people. Not that I don’t want this, because I do. I want you. But I guess I’m caught up in what others think of me. Which is stupid, I know.

If you’re still awake... and a part of me hopes you are, please write back. And don’t forget to answer my mother. She worries.

Yours,

Y/n

~

I took a blanket and curled up on the window seat, awaiting an answer and watching the snow fall softly. When the clock neared three am, my body forced me into sleep, lulled by the

gentleness of the snow and calmness of the night, the feel of Draco’s arms around me and his lips on mine never fading.

.

.

Part 8

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x #slytherin x gryffindor #slytherin #ron weasley #hermione granger #severus snape #minerva mcgonagall #albus dumbledore #harry potter #triwizard cup #triwizard champions #triwizard tournament #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #the goblet of fire #hp x reader #hp and the goblet of fire #draco malfoy deserves to be loved too

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Your Friendship- Harry Potter Preference

A/N: Here’s the next part of my Harry Potter Preferences! This part is rather short, but it’s supposed to be just a filler on your relationship with each boy. The longer, more in depth details and events will come later on. Just a small background on how you grew to be friends and the ways they or you, started seeing the other as more than just a friend. Enjoy! -M

Warnings: FLUFF!

Word Count: 1,623

Requests for any fandom are OPEN! Tag list requests are OPEN! SEND FEEDBACK!

Catch up on the preferences and find more HP or other fandom stories in the links below:

How You Two Meet| Harry Potter Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

Harry: After running into him outside the dorms after hours, you had ended up running into Harry more often. You noticed you two shared a lot of the same classes, had walked to the same paths to venture out around the school’s grounds, and shared one very important friend; Hermione. You and she had been friends since you were younger so it made sure that you and Harry would end up becoming friends. Each day, you made a plan to see each other. Aside from Ron and Hermione, you and Harry would separate yourselves from anyone else and would talk about everything. Sitting it the courtyard under the trees in the Spring months, noticing how the temperatures had increased after the colder months. It had become routine for you both and counted on it being consistent amongst all the craziness of becoming a good wizard. You’d rely on one another as an anchor to keep yourselves afloat when things seemed uncertain; he was always there for you. And then one day, you woke up to realize you wanted more than just a friendship with him. You saw how much he truly cared about you and how he would give you extra guidance when you struggled with a spell, even when he did the same for everyone who joined Dumbledore’s Army. He managed to pay you just the slightest bit more attention than everyone else, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Draco: Because you were keen on knocking him down a peg or two on his level of supremacy, Draco had made it his mission to get to know you and figure out how you were comfortable enough with confronting him. Most students didn’t even bother to give him the attention he was after, but you were wanting to do the opposite; tell him what his wrong with his attitude. He’d watch you in all the classes you shared, taking mental notes on the way you carried yourself academically but also in your physical stance. You stood out to him against all the other girls. You stood taller, held your head a little higher, and had confidence in who you were, but the difference between your confidence and his, was you didn’t try to make everyone know what you thought of yourself; you weren’t conceded. That piqued his interest and it soon turned into romantic feelings. Once he finally got the courage to talk to you, he started feeling different around you. And he found himself caring too much about you, it was to a fault he thought. If you weren’t okay, and he could always tell, he followed you around and nagged about how you were feeling, until you would break down in his presence and no one else. His heart broke seeing you hurting, and all he could do was embrace you in a hug. He’d rub your back, telling you sweet nothings in your ear until you felt better and he was the same with you. He was able to finally be himself without any judgments or expectations from you and it was a different wave of living that he wasn’t used to, but he found himself craving it and only from you.

Ron: More than just Potions, you and Ron always seemed to be paired together on assignments in all your classes. That meant you were left in a fit of giggles throughout every assignment yet you still passed with flying colors. Then, you would venture outside of class with Ron to every school event, becoming rather close to him. You both had several things in common but the biggest bond you both shared, was coming from a large family. Except you were the second oldest as he was the second youngest. You both knew what it was like to have to fight for attention amongst people, especially family members, and you relied on Ron to always listen to whatever you had to say. It was easier with him than it was with anyone else and when you began noticing just how much he paid attention to the things you said, you started seeing him a little differently. One day in particular, just because he was thinking of you, he brought a box with him to your first shared class of the day. Keeping it tucked under his arm, your eyes immediately landing on it when he walked into the room and to the empty chair beside you. He offered it to you and told you to open it. It was a rather beautiful sweater that you had noticed in a shop window while you were walking through Diagon Alley. It had your House’s crest off to the side and was stitched with sequence down the sides and bottom. You couldn’t believe he remembered how much you loved that sweater and the comment you made about how expensive it was, but he got it for you nonetheless.

Cedric: When he surprised you by taking notice of you after the first task in the Tournament, he continued to surprise you by coming over to where you sat every day for lunch. He insisted on doing so, even though you always sat with your group of friends. And he fit right in like he had always been apart of your group. You weren’t exclusive of anyone who wanted to join you, but because you were a group of girls, most people just left you alone. That was until Cedric couldn’t stop thinking about you. Since that night you congratulated him on his efforts in the Tournament, he began seeing you as someone who wasn’t ogling over him like all the other girls seemed to be at Hogwarts. Keeping to yourself mostly, he was intrigued by the way you treated him like everyone else. What he didn’t know, however, was just how much you had him in high regard. You held a candle for him, as the Muggle saying went, and you thought the world of him, but feeling less confident in yourself for wanting more, you decided that just working on a friendship with him was best. And did you two ever become the best of friends. Nothing could’ve ever separated your bond, not a single person either.

Neville: Since the day you went to visit him in the hospital after the flying accident, you had become rather close. He was grateful to you for standing up for him against his naysayers and since then, you grew rather fond of one another. At first, he’d ask for your help with everything but it never bothered you. But as your years at Hogwarts passed by, one year, when he came back for the fifth year, everything changed and he suddenly was able to accomplish all of his spells and potions on your own. It was also now, that everyone took notice of the way he looked and how he was able to hold his own when it came to the formation of Dumbledore’s Army. You were torn, so proud of how well he ended up succeeding but also disgusted that all of a sudden, people were wanting to be friends with him. Even the girls began to take notice of his different “outside” appearance and gawked at how “cute he became over the summer.” It annoyed you because to you, he was always someone special and of great potential; he just struggled to reach it. So why now, are people seeing just how wonderful he is?  

Fred: When George confessed that his brother had begun taking more of an interest in you than just a friend, you didn’t believe him. So, you just figured he was trying to make you feel better because he knew how you felt, yet Fred did begin to act differently with you. Sure, he was still one of the more popular students at Hogwarts, but it was lingering stares and small brushes against shoulders that made you wonder, had George been right that day? Thinking you were just being ridiculous; you had continued your ventures to the Weasley house because they were honestly the most fun people to be around. They were loud and always fighting to speak up but there was nothing short of love in the family. Making sure you felt apart of that family, you had finally decided to confront Ginny about what you noticed with Fred. She had just smiled at you as you told her of all you felt because she too, knew just how Fred felt about you.

George: You weren’t expecting anything from that first lunch with the Weasley’s but you grew to love it. Never had you experienced anyone to be as nice to you as they were, and you felt like you belonged. Years of always feeling as though you were an outcast, it was George who worked hard to prove to you the exact opposite. He was the one to always seek you out, pull you from your room, and drag you to another Weasley Family outing or event. Whether they all gathered around the long table for a meal or if they were spending a day out in Hogsmeade, you were including. You fought with him as to why he insisted you’d go with them but his response was a simple small and a tug on your arm. He stood too close to you or would hold onto your hand a little longer than you thought friends should, but he never mentioned it and neither did you. Afraid that maybe you were just reading too much into it, you thought you’d bring it up to him at some point, but for now, you enjoyed the noticeable steps he was taking to prove you were very important to him.

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