Tumgik
#you put the firebolt in the dungeons?!
lovl3igh · 6 months
Text
we all agreed that if wood was still in hogwarts in the goblet of fire he woud start RIOT for cancelling quidditch, but can you imagine if he met umbridge??
"what do you mean I have to ASK for creating my team again... you think it's a game without gryffindor?" "no, harry and george didn't attack malfoy... that little ferret attacked himself, I swear it" "what do you mean potter can't play? in my opinion he's perfectly fine, give him back his broom!" "honestly I don't care what rules anybody broke... just leave quidditch out of it" "umbridge-itis is totally real, I FAINTED IN YOUR CLASS, I just feel much better on the pitch" "what the hell dumbledore's army had to do with my team, like maybe we all in DA but..." "I'm gonna be honest, if we could have more trainings and matches then we wouldn't have time for creating illegal groups so it's kinda your fault"
if umbridge hated harry and weasley twins, she would absolutely despise oliver you can't cancel quidditch wood and I would be there for it
106 notes · View notes
startanewdream · 2 years
Text
Valentine's plans
Notes: I had planned to post this in February, but then things happened and only now I got back to this shortfic. I hope June isn't that late to enjoy a Missing Moment set on Valentine's Day of Harry's 6th Year. 3.2 words, rated T.
*~*~*
Owlery. Astronomy Tower. The mess of dots in the dungeons. Great Hall. Nothing. None of the dots anywhere in this castle is labelled as “Draco Malfoy.”
Harry yawns, stretching his arms, before looking around. He is alone in the changing room after practice, staying late for a shower and for taking his mind off… other people. It’s not as if he would rather be thinking about Draco Malfoy, but especially today, of all days, it’s easier searching for his dot in the Marauder’s Map than being worried about what someone else’s dot is doing with someone else’s boyfriend’s dot…
Perhaps because he is thinking about her—that’s a constant by now—, his eyes sweep over the black dot labelled “Ginny Weasley” and then back again, unable to move away, because Ginny is not in the Gryffindor Tower after all, as Harry heard she might be. In fact, her dot is moving on the map and then it’s leaving the castle and—
She’s coming back to the changing room. 
Harry has a minute to stow the Marauder’s Map in his backpack, along with the smelling cloth he wore for practice, before Ginny opens the door, blinking against the lights.
“Oh, I didn’t—”
And then her voice dies when she looks at him, except Ginny’s eyes are not meeting Harry’s, but rather at his chest.
Harry’s bare naked chest.
“Sorry!” He cries at once, rushing to put on his shirt. “I just forgot—”
“No, no.” Ginny’s voice is loud and when Harry steals a glance at her, he sees her face is flushed, almost the colour of her hair. She takes a deep breath. “I just didn’t expect anyone here anymore.”
“Me neither,” Harry says, hoping it comes off as a joke, but suddenly hesitation flashes on Ginny’s face.
“Are you sure? I mean, if you thought the changing room would be empty—I can go.”
Harry blinks, confused. “It’s Friday night, I thought anyone would be doing something more interesting. Especially—” He remembers everything he heard that day, all the things he’d rather not hear. The dormitory will be empty, Dean had said, knowing that Ron had arranged other plans… “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
There is a grimace on his face, one that tells how he feels rather miserable about the day, but fortunately Ginny doesn’t notice it. She seems determined to look anywhere but him.
“Exactly. So if you want the Quidditch field all by yourself—”
“Why would I?”
Ginny blinks rapidly, now turning back to him, her face unreadable. “You were shirtless,” she says, though it sounds like a question.
In answer—if it can be considered one—Harry puts on a jersey he got for his birthday. “Better now?” he tries.
It takes a full second, but then Ginny smiles. “Yeah. The Chudley Cannons’ colours suit you.” She shifts her broomstick from hand to hand, watching him. “Do you wanna fly?”
“Again?” He has to grin. “Am I a captain so terrible that you need to practice again?”
“You are not that terrible,” Ginny jokes, winking at him. It should be a normal wink, the kind they exchange hundreds of times over the summer, but then, during that time, Harry didn’t fully understand what were the somersaults in his stomach in her presence.
Now his heart jumps with that wink, and he almost takes a step closer to her before controlling himself.
“I don’t want to play Quidditch, I just want to fly.”
Harry looks at her. Ginny is still smiling, but there is something tense on her shoulders, he notes, as if she doesn’t just want to fly, but rather needs it.
He nods. “Sure.”
“Unless you have other plans.”
“Not really.” Again, Dean’s voice echoes in his mind; Harry buries his nails into his hand. “Don’t you?”
“Not really,” she repeats, and then she is marching out of the room into the Quidditch field and Harry rushes to pick up his Firebolt.
Ginny is in the air when Harry joins her outside. It’s cold outside, but she doesn’t seem to mind, climbing up more and more, the wind making her hair whip like flames; for a moment, Harry just watches her, enjoying the fact that she can’t see his smile from that distance, can’t notice how his gaze is drawn to her figure, can’t… realise how pathetic he is; then he sighs, pulling up. Ginny is a good fifty feet above him, but Harry catches her in a few seconds. 
“Show-off,” she says good-naturedly. “I would bet a race against you but I’m not in the mood for losing today.”
“What happened to just flying?”
“Racing is a type of flying. Hey!” Ginny’s eyes sparkle suddenly. “Let’s change brooms.”
Harry lifts an eyebrow. “How is this fair?”
“Not ours. Let’s pick one of the school’s broomsticks.” 
“The old ones you always complained about?”
“Exactly. Why, afraid of losing without the better broomstick?”
“You know you are talking to the youngest seeker in the century, right?”
“By now, I’ve probably played seeker more than you.” 
Harry laughs against his will. “Hey, my score is good so far.”
“Yeah, but it’s still February,” she reminds him as they open the broom shed. “There’s still time.”
Harry’s grin lasts only until he gets a look at the school’s broomsticks. The newest model was probably already old by the time his father was at Hogwarts.
“Are you sure? These brooms don’t look… safe.”
Ginny’s laugh comes from somewhere deeper inside the broom shed. In the near darkness, the sound seems to reverberate in Harry’s body; he turns towards her, though he can’t see her.
“Don’t insult them, or they will drop you faster.”
“Faster?”
“You’ve never played Weasley Race? The game only ends when someone falls on the ground.”
Harry isn’t sure how serious Ginny is – her voice betrays no mischief –, but he can’t ask her; as he extends his hand to grab an old Silver Comet, she comes back from the depths of the shed, not seeing him. Their feet meet somewhere in the darkness and then he is stumbling upon old brooms and by the time he can understand what is happening, he’s holding a body over his that has far more shapes and curves than any broomstick model.
And it smells far better, her perfume easily surpassing any other old worn scent in the shed. His hands are buried into her hair, and then he traces it, pulls out strands out of the way, and Ginny shivers.
She's so warm, and he can’t help but close his eyes and raise his head, searching—
Then a nervous laugh breaks the moment, and her warmth is gone.
“It seems I’ve lost even before we’ve started it,” says Ginny, and from somewhere comes her hand, helping him stand up; she lets go quickly of his hand even before Harry can fully register her touch. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” mumbles Harry. He takes a long time adjusting his glasses, waiting until his breath returns to normal to leave the quietness of the shed.
Ginny is already in the air, not very high now, her back turned to him; for a moment Harry just watches her playing with her hair to tie it—there are wisps of hair hanging loosely at the base of her neck—, then he sighs to himself, joining her up in the air.
“How does this work?”
“We run laps around the field.”
“That doesn’t seem hard.”
“In the shape of an eight.”
“What?”
Her lips are curved in a smirk. “I’ll start on the other side of the field.”
“But then—won’t we meet in the middle and crash?”
“The race only ends when someone falls, remember?” Her brown eyes sparkle. “No one ever died during the Weasley Race if that’s what concerns you.”
“Let’s notice you haven’t said anything about broken limbs.”
Ginny laughs. “I said what I said. If it helps, I promise you I won’t try to mend your arm later and leave you boneless.”
“Ugh, you know how to console a bloke, Gin.” He shakes his head exaggeratedly; Ginny gives him a funny look. “What?”
“You just—nothing.” She waves her head as well, as if to ward off a bothersome mosquito. “I’ll go easy on you.”
Harry grins. “No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t,” she agrees happily, moving to the other side.
Harry tries not to look too concerned. The race itself doesn’t trouble him — he’s pretty sure he can dodge Ginny whenever they meet at the centre of the field —, but this broom is clearly unstable. The wood quivers, deviating him to the left more than not, and as he moves to his starting point in the field, the broomstick nearly turns sideways, almost making him fall. From what he gathers from Ginny’s moving figure, she is facing the same problems as him, which isn’t any better.
This game seems like a bad idea, but then he can almost spot Ginny’s smirk at the other side, daring him to refuse.
It’s a smirk that shows up in his dreams more frequently than not, and probably because Harry needs the cold wind in his face – rather than lose himself in dreams that won’t happen – he pushes himself forward.
For all the broomstick seems determined to let him fall, this is actually fun. There isn’t enough speed to make this a true race; it’s more about controlling the way his head spins with all the turns, and then avoiding Ginny when they meet at the centre of the field, though Harry is under the impression that she’s controlling her movements to purposefully hit him. At that speed it doesn’t seem dangerous, so Harry finds himself mimicking her, nearly avoiding collisions, inches apart as they cross the field over and over.
He has a brief vision of her laughing face each time they meet, and then Harry is laughing too; their laps turn shorter, both clearly aiming to hit the other, until, inevitably, they do.
For a long moment, Harry feels like he’s just falling, in a never-ending line to the ground, and then he hits it; the air is expelled from his lungs, his back hurts, but the pain lasts less than a second. He fell with his arms around Ginny, and she’s on the ground atop of him, her body pressed against his, and her now untied hair creating a curtain around them.
Time seems to have stopped; he hears the loud beating of his heart, feels the scent of her hair, touches the strands of her hair, and holds her face, fingers tracing her soft skin. Ginny’s eyes sparkle, her lips opening, and then she lowers her head, her mouth touching his almost tentatively.
His whole body ignites. Harry pulls her closer—she lets out a gasp, and then another as his hand slides down her back. She holds his neck, the touch sending shivers down his body; her kiss is not gentle anymore. She wanted this, a part of Harry’s brain registers, she’s been feeling the same—all those dreams, all those longing glances, all the desperation to be together, nothing else matters—
“Harry,” she mumbles against his lip, and this is his favourite call in the world. He pulls up her shirt, needing to feel more of her skin, to kiss her bare shoulders, to let his hand touch her— “Harry!”
He opens his eyes. Ginny’s face comes into focus, very close to his, but rather than the vision of her aroused expression, as much into the moment as he is, all he sees is concern; her face is pale, strands of hair escaping her ponytail, her lips trembling.
“Are you okay?”
“I—” His voice is raspy. The world seems to be spinning. “What happened?”
“We crashed, you fell.” She gulps. “We weren’t that high anymore, but, still—you were out for a second, it… it scared me.” She sits on the grass by his side. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—it was a stupid idea—”
“No, no.” He shakes his head, stopping in the middle when his head starts to buzz. “I agreed with it. And as you promised, we are still live!” He gives her a feverishly smile that Ginny accepts only mildly. “It was fun. As far as near-death experiences go, this wasn’t even my hardest.”
She lets out a laugh almost against her will. “Yeah, you would know about it. Come on, let’s go to the Hospital Wing.”
“I’m fine! I don’t wanna spend the night with Madame Pomfrey.”
“No, I guess not… Are you sure you are okay?”
“I’ll survive it. It’s not a six-foot fall that will lead me into my early grave.”
“Nine-foot,” corrects Ginny. “And I’d rather not send you into your early grave anyway. I kind of prefer you living and all.”
“Me too,” he says, raising his head to look up. He has the impression that Ginny’s watching him, but he doesn’t want to look back and meet her concerned gaze; the star is shining with stars above them, and it’s easy to pretend to look at them, a corner of his mind relieving that dream and wishing it had been true… If only…
“Did you not have any plans for today?” Ginny asks suddenly, her words coming out fast as if she’s asked it before she can stop herself.
Harry turns to her, though now Ginny is the one watching the night sky.
“Why?”
“You seemed really opposed to going to see Madame Pomfrey.”
“She will make me do a round of exams and so far I haven’t needed to go visit the infirmary once this term. I’m trying to set up a record here.”
She almost smiles. “It’s only February,” she repeats. 
“February fourteenth,” mumbles Harry. “Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah, that’s why—why I asked if you didn’t have any other plans.”
“Me?” The shock in his voice makes Ginny turn to him, her eyebrows raised. “You are the one with a boyfriend.”
If she notices the way his voice quivers, she doesn’t show it.
“And you are the one who was naked in the changing room!”
Harry flushes. “It was just my chest—I was just off the shower.”
“Why couldn’t you use the bathroom back at the Gryffindor Tower like everyone else?”
“I—” 
Hey, Harry. Dean had pushed him aside right after the practice was over. Do you mind giving me a few hours alone in the dormitory? It’s just—Lavender told me she had plans elsewhere with Ron and the dormitory will be empty—it’s Valentine’s Day, it would be nice to get a few hours alone, you know what I mean?
“I thought the room would be taken.”
“Oh.” Her whole face is ablaze now, a mix of embarrassment and fury. “So he’s asked you to stay away?”
Harry grabs his hair nervously. “Er—”
“I arrived at the Common Room wishing only for a shower and my bed — my single bed, mind you, in my very lonely dormitory —, and then Parvati and Seamus were winking at me and Dean, and promising we wouldn’t get interrupted this time, that they would warn us if Ron came back early —”
“Er—”
“As if all I could possibly want was to spend the night in my boyfriend’s bed fearing that my older brother would just burst in again, as if four other people didn’t share that dormitory, as if other people wouldn’t want to just go there and sleep — Neville or—or you and—”
“Yeah, hum.”
She lets out a hard breath, then Ginny turns to him; Harry isn’t sure what she sees on his face, but something flickers, and her shoulders drop.
“Sorry, I’m venting. It’s just easy ‘cause we are—”
“Like siblings?” He asks, dismayed.
Ginny blinks. “No, rather the opposite. I wouldn’t say any of these things to my brothers.” There’s an attempt at a smile. “Can I tell you something else I wouldn’t say to them?”
“Yep.”
“I might go up. If Dean had actually asked me, instead of assuming that’s what I wanted to do. I just hated feeling like I had to. And then, instead of dealing with any of it tonight, I just came here, convinced you to a night flight that almost ended up with you dying—”
“That’s a stretch.”
“—And now I’m crying my heart out to you.” She closes her eyes for a moment. “And somehow that’s not even my worst Valentine’s Day ever.”
“See? You always need to find the silver lining—wait, you are talking about your first year, aren’t you? It wasn’t that bad.”
“I’ll admit that sending off that card wasn’t my best moment.” She lets out a humourless laugh. “But even with all those dwarves and Fred and George teasing me, and Malfoy’s comment—no, seeing you with it—the diary—was worse.”
“Oh.” He fumbles for words, fighting an urge to grab Ginny’s hand that has nothing romantic about it for once.
“I was in panic,” she mumbles, her eyes distant now. “What if he told you, what if, even worse, he did to you the same things he had made me do… then I broke into your dorm and—that was the only time I went there. Because of the diary.” She turns back, watching the distant castle, towards the Gryffindor Tower. “Maybe I’m not really mad at Dean. Maybe I’m just mad at myself because I’m… afraid.”
This time, he does hold her hand; Ginny’s eyes open, watching him without blinking.
“Riddle is gone,” he says. “You got over him and you defeated him—yeah, you did. He never expected you to fight him the way you did and that’s the only reason his plan failed.”
Her lips tremble. “Not the only reason.”
Harry shakes his head. “I had help. You only had your soul and your determination.”
“Is that what you really think? Sometimes… sometimes I think you still see me as that shy kid who was stupid enough to fall for a teenage dark lord—and that’s you had forgotten I had been possessed.”
“No, I forgot because I was a prat who didn’t think about anyone else.”
“No one could accuse you of being selfish, Harry.”
“Well, last year I was.”
“A prat,” she agrees, a smile softening her words. “But not selfish.”
Harry shrugs. “Well, I never considered how you felt afterwards. It seemed to be over. The diary was gone. You were thriving with life, but then—” He thinks about the summer after the Triwizard Tournament when none of his daily activities would reflect how much he struggled with nightmares at night.
“Then people never know what ghosts we are facing,” she finishes for him, nodding. “I still get nightmares sometimes—but most of the time I have pleasant dreams, so I count it as a win.”
“Me too, I mean—I have better dreams now.”
They share a smile; for a tiny moment, his fingers caressing the back of her hand, Harry almost spills out who’s been in his dreams lately, but then she stands up and the contact is gone.
“Let’s go back?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks for flying with me—and sorry about messing up your Valentine’s plans.”
Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I told you I had none.”
“I was just winding you up—you get all flushed when you are flustered, did you know it?” She smirks at him. “Well, sorry for the Weasley Race then.”
“Only ends when someone falls to the ground—you had warned me.”
“Still, I realise now why I only played this with my brothers. I don’t feel guilty when they fall.”
“Guess I’m not like your brothers at all.”
“Oh, no.” Ginny laughs lowly. “I never thought of you as my brother, Harry.”
He’s rather glad to know it.
213 notes · View notes
kiss-my-asymptote · 3 months
Text
So, I’ve been in a D&D campaign for about two years now, and we’re wrapping it up with our Dm’s take on Curse of Strahd, where a lot of our characters’ personal stories are going to resolve. Our wizard is looking for her mentor who was last heard from while leaving for Barovia, My ranger/cleric’s long-lost mother is in league with Strahd and killed the uncle who raised her and kidnapped her estranged father in order to lure her to the castle and make them a family again, our werewolf blood hunter needs the blood from three of my mother’s lieutenants to cure himself of his condition and our sorceress is looking for a powerful legendary object in Stahd’s possession that might help her brother pull off a coup and save her homeland from a tyrannical king.
We’ve been dreading the castle this whole time thinking it’s going to be rough and impossible, but then last session our wizard sits down and was like “hey, so, I had a thought. Remember that time we explored that crashed Netherese city full of wizard shit and I pretty much spent the whole time in the library? I found this scroll to summon a tarasque there, how about we just summon it on Strahd’s front lawn as a distraction so we can do the things we need to while they’re distracted? It can be like a heist!” we were all like “that sounds so fucking insane, we’re so down for that plan…hey, we did that module like, almost a year ago/ six in-game months ago, have you had that scroll this entire time???”
So we take these giant barrels of magic fire wine we collected earlier and we set them up about a mile from the castle and then we walk right in because we had been invited as guests. We immediately scooby doo this shit, splitting up, my ranger goes down to the dungeons to find her mother/the catacombs where their coffins are so she knows where to find them once she and Strahd turn to mist and retreat, the blood hunter and the wizard go up to the tower to get my ranger’s dad, and our sorceress goes looking for a treasure room as well as the bones of an old dragon we’re supposed to bury to lift the curse on Barovia. The ally of ours who gave us that quest is like an undead dude who’s been quietly following behind us for like a week at this point and we put him in a bag of holding so he wouldn’t get in the way, and we forgot to take him out this entire time.
Eventually, my ranger finds her mom and our sorceress gets in trouble, running into one of the lieutenants. Sorceress sends a message to our blood hunter telling him to follow her scent with his werewolf nose and help her fight because they’re in love, my ranger has a back and fourth with her mom and has to fight her, another lieutenant and like six zombies by herself and immediately casts sending to the wizard saying “Tarasque! Now!!”
The wizard ( who has been leading a running joke about becoming ranger’s stepmom) found my ranger’s dad at this point and he’s not looking great. She summons the tarasque right in front of the wine barrels, so the thing gets drunk and has several charges of firebolt (because it was magic fire wine, you might recall) and starts charging towards the castle. 80% of the enemies in the castle go out to fight it off and immediately get gobbled up or scorched or both, meanwhile my ranger/cleric has the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind (which is a cleric object used to hunt vampires), so she casts hold vampire on her mother and destroy undead getting rid of all the zombies and putting her mother in the position where she’s frightened and *has* to use her action to dash away but physically can not move so she’s sitting there taking psychic damage while my ranger absolutely molly whops her and her little helper. She’s got spirit guardians, her bow is cursed by the vengeful spirit of her dead uncle, the blood hunter put a lightning effect on her bow… it’s absolutely disgusting how much damage she was putting out.
Elsewhere, our sorceress and blood hunter are using a wild magic rod to produce a stink cloud around their enemy and then lighting it on fire and causing explosions that shake the whole damn castle like lethal MacGyver and our wizard is just happily skipping through the castle pointing out the rapidly approaching living bulldozer to anyone who tries to stop her from walking around the castle with a recently freed prisoner and making her way down to my ranger where she precedes to just sit back and watch what’s going on until the hold vampire spell is about to wear off at which point she gets up to my ranger’s mom while she’s still stuck, yanks her crown down over her eyes and then casts immovable object on it so that she still can’t fight and my ranger can keep wailing on her. The other enemy in the room is fucking dust at this point, the spirit guardians demolished that dude.
In the end we managed to finish the ranger’s vengeance quest, find the object the sorceress needed, and got the blood vials for our blood hunter with very little effort and looney tunes tactics. This whole time we’re like “where even is Strahd?” but by this point we’re like “Seriously, where is that dude???” no one rolled an investigation check above a fucking 7, so our DM was like “gee, I don’t know 🤷🏽‍♀️” .We got out safely right before the tarasque hit the castle, demolishing it and burning it to the ground before it got up and started making its way towards one of the other unsuspecting towns and we’re like “…now what?”
At this point my ranger goes “OH SHIT THE DRAGON BONES WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BURY, [SORCERESS], DID YOU GRAB THOSE?”
Our Sorceress says “Oh… no, I saw them but didn’t grab ‘em, I was kinda busy…” then she lets out the undead npc THAT WAS STILL IN THE BAG OF HOLDING THE WHOLE TIME and points him towards the rubble saying “it’s in there, still, good luck” before we all have a discussion about if we even should lift the curse at this point because the trasque is still here, it won’t unsummon until it has no more hit points and it’s almost impossible to kill. It’s stuck in Barovia so long as the curse remains, we could just get one of the nomad people to help us get out and just leave the thing here because the whole place was doomed anyway and the people here kinda suck really bad.
That’s where our session ended that day, and it’s been almost a week since then but I’m still reeling over the way we essentially Bugs Bunny’d our way through Strahd’s castle—and where the fuck even is Strahd???
6 notes · View notes
moreclaypigeons · 1 year
Text
Lorem Lore Masterpost (The Infinite Dungeon)
Maybe you've heard of Lorem Ipsum. Or maybe you haven't. Either way, she's heard of you. Probably. Or will at least pretend she has.
Tumblr media
So, what's her deal?
A while ago I was struck with the perfect character name- lorem ipsum. It's the pseudo-latin filler text everyone uses in design. How fucking funny would that be? I set the name aside for a while and decided next time I got to play DnD i'd use it.
And then that day came along. @siriwesen announced they were looking for players for a mini campaign, called The Dungeon. They said they would put our characters through hell. Yippee!! The perfect opportunity for my silly guy.
Lorem is a 22 year old human sorcerer. From afar, you wouldn't expect much from her, just your typical adventurer. But there is more to her than it seems! Up close, you could see a faint opalescent shimmer on her skin, the result of spending her formative years traveling between the outer planes. She never really had one place she called home, as she was always on the move, but the closest thing she had was Elysium. That was where she had felt safest, among celestials, phoenixes, and moon dogs alike. As she grew up, the magic of the outer planes imbued her with power, which aside from her powerful spellcasting, can be seen in the shimmer of her skin or the glow of her eyes as she wields that magic.
Tumblr media
[ art by @siriwesen ]
Being a messenger between planes was great and all, but she felt lonely and out of touch with her roots. In an attempt to reconnect with her past, she returned to the prime material plane with only the clothes on her back and her trusty messenger bag (which actually carries a lot, to be honest!).
However, things didn't exactly go to plan. She was only there a few days before... well... she can't quite remember what happened.
She wakes up in a cell, in a dungeon. She notices the walls are well lit, despite a lack of any light source. Fucking weird but not the worst she's been in. She takes her ring of miscellaneous keys and opens the cell door. As she walks down the hallway, she's greeted by one of these fuckers. Some bug skull thing. Ick.
Tumblr media
[ art by @siriwesen ]
She tried to attack it with sacred flame, no success. Then, from the hallway, she hears footsteps as a pale human man makes his way down, quite afraid. She says fuck it and casts firebolt, which fuck- did not work on that bug. Barely missed the man. He flips her off before running down the hall.
Tumblr media
Lorem quickly discovers they are not alone, as she takes out the bug with a spear, then discovers that the hallways lead to other cells. Altogether, there are four people in the dungeon. And the bugs remain defeated. As they try to figure out what the shit is happening, they discover another cell, which is empty, and a paper which alluded to an "author" visiting the realm for inspiration.
The group discovers a staircase, and as they climb them, a white fog clouds their vision, and they find themselves in a different room, with 4 of the bugs waiting for them. They do some badass shit and take them out, with minor hiccups. Lorem aligns with two of the bugs and shoots her firebolt through them, searing them both at one instant.
Tumblr media
As those bugs lie dead, the team notices a pile of bones nearby. Recognizing it from the previous floor, they decide they should figure out if it would also turn into a bug.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ art by @amberflatwoods ]
Which... yeah may not have been the best idea. Youch!
Tumblr media
Quail boy did a bit of a dumb but it ended up being alright with a heal from the half-elf. Meanwhile, blondie engages in combat and then runs away, which *dm voice* you're going to provoke an opportunity attack! And he's pretty injured. Lorem casts aura of vitality to give him a heal, and they take down the bug.
But blondie decides that he hasn't had enough yet, and investigates the pile of bricks, which, fuck. is a mimic, hungry for blood. Stabbing it kind of helps, and then the half-elf bard casts thunderwave on it, which Lorem saved for. But, fuck. The other guy is still in range. He's low on health.
Tumblr media
[ art by @lexarga ]
He does some more attacking, and.. well.. yet again tries to run. Some people never learn... in an opportunity attack, the mimic mauls him.
Lorem sees this stranger across from her as he bleeds out. She shouts out in protest, watching the pile of bricks descend upon him.
Tumblr media
[ art by @amberflatwoods ]
And then everything goes white.
And she's back in her cell again.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anyways, antics carry out from here. In the second cycle, they finally introduce themselves to each other.
The human(?) rogue is Damien [ played by @abstractbabble ]. The half-elf bard who healed Lorem is Lyr [ played by @lexarga ]. And the avian halfling who shot her in the arm (which healed. only physically...) is named Guthrie [ played by @amberflatwoods ].
They do some more digging, and discover: 1. a few bottles filled with liquor, 2. a rope hanging from the ceiling in the empty cell, which leads up to the second floor.
The second Lorem sees those bottles, she goes, "MOLOTOV COCKTAIL!"
Together, the gang devises a plan, where Damien will climb the rope and cast minor illusion to distract the bugs, and Guthrie will launch the bottle at them as they gather in one spot
[ animation by @amberflatwoods ]
And it's pretty successful... I mean they don't die immediately, but a little fire never hurt. Lorem immediately adds fire to fire, killing the big guy with sacred flame, and shooting another with firebolt. Which, well. Shit. Sets the table on fire. No big.
Tumblr media
And here is when we learned Lorem is a fan of arson. My fault, really, for giving her two fire-related spells.
Tumblr media
[ art by @siriwesen ]
They do some puzzle shit, get to the next floor, and discover they are on floating platforms in a void that extend repeating infinitely outward. The usual. After some investigating and physics testing (he threw a candle over the gap and it was fine!!!) Damien makes a running jump for it, but he kind of slows down in the air, like he's moving through jello, and Lorem sees as he misses the ledge and plummets downward.
And then everything goes white.
Third time's the charm?
Tumblr media
[ art by @amberflatwoods ]
The second floor is tougher this time around. The damn bugs keep respawning. But they have nothing on Lorem, she takes no hits.
Tumblr media
Meanwhile, Damien is being crushed by a cabinet and they realize the items don't restock each cycle. After defeating the enemies for realsies, the four of them sit around a table and rest with some wine.
They talk about whether they'd reunite after they escape, and Lorem assures them she'd be able to find them. One way or another. Guthrie gives her a feather just in case. She says, "my dog will find you," which sounds threatening but moon dogs are not scary.
Tumblr media
This time they successfully make it past the third floor, through a series of bridge-forming puzzles. There's a fifth platform set that seems to activate on its own, but uhhhh let's just ignore that for now guys.
They end up in a village, which is pretty obviously fake. There are characters all around it (!!! other people !!!!) but after approaching them all, they discover they are NPCs. WHEN WILL IT END?
Lorem tries to exploit the infinite fish glitch, which doesn't work. Whatever, lame. They head to the next floor.
CUE BOSS BATTLE MUSIC
They find themselves in an enclosed rundown castle, with an atrium. Floating above a tree is a GIANT monster bug skull. Holy shit. Fear for my life. Lorem finds out fire doesnt work on it (RUDE), needs a heal from Lyr, and Damien rushes up the stairs.
Where he is.. promptly killed by taking one hit after the other. Yikes dude
You know the drill.
The next time they reach that floor, they're smarter about it. They have a lot more HP, and do more heals. Guthrie hides behind the left staircase, while Damien goes up it. Lorem leads Lyr up the right staircase, as Lyr casts vicious mockery. Cornered between two skull bugs, Lorem casts spirit guardians, and a swarm of winged spirits in shifting colors swirl around her. They completely desecrate the bugs.
Lyr moves forward, and the spirits part like the curtain of a waterfall as she makes her way closer to the enemy. As Lorem follows, taking cover beside a tree, the spirits follow her in a 15 foot radius, but they're moving slower.
Through the spirits, Lorem sees as Damien approaches the giant from behind. As he casts color spray, a paint-like substance splatters everywhere in the direction of the bug, and from his balm glows a brilliant a blinding light.
Tumblr media
[ art by @siriwesen ]
As the light dims, in the spot where Damien once stood, is a giant white figure. It's long, and cylindrical, and has 6 legs. And it is staring down at the bug with an eyeless grin.
Tumblr media
[ art by @amberflatwoods ]
Aaaand that's where we last left off a few days ago. Pretty exciting!
I love this campaign so much and I love our little adventuring crew and all the Situations (tm) they get themselves into.
33 notes · View notes
kassil · 8 months
Text
The Hedge Mage's Guide to Light Cantrips
Welcome to the Hedge Mage's Guide to spells! If you're picking this up, it's because you either have a natural knack of magic or you want to learn to use some simple spells that can help you with daily life. If that's not you, I recommend you either pick up a different one of my books, or possibly seek out a mentor of the arcane arts! If this is you, however, read on.
(Omitted: a diagram explaining a basic light cantrip, with a phonetic guide to the words of the spell and a diagram for each gesture.)
Now, once you're successful with that spell - and you should be eventually, unless you're one of the rare folks who have a natural antimagic to you - we can go over the hedge magic of it! you see, most wizards, warlocks, and other magicians learn this cantrip and never think about it again afterwards, and so their light tends to be pretty consistent - you might notice that folks tend to have individual differences, which most chalk up to variation between individuals, but that's not the whole story.
See, the trick to those variations is in how you stress the syllables of the words and how you tweak the gestures just a little. Now, to show what that means, cast the spell again, but this time put extra emphasis into the third syllable of the second word. Hop along and get it cast, this is important!
If you did that like I said, you light spell should be very distinctly green in color now, right? Depending on how much oomph you put on that syllable, it might range from a light spring green to a deep jade green. Neat trick, right? Now do it again, but this time on the third gesture, curl your left ring finger in when you hit that syllable.
It came out a really dark green, right? Now, this might just be a neat party trick, but if you're a proper hedge mage - or want to be one - you should understand how important this is! After all, among sighted creatures who can see in color, color tends to have associated meanings - and among the ones as can't see color, the effects of those different hues can still have meaning, too. Consider how your local lord would feel if you walked up to his front gate with a staff glowing with the colors of his household, for example - or if you lit up a nice dinner for someone you're courting with colors that means romance to your people. Or maybe how awkward it would be if your spells come out the color your people associate with fertility, and you need to light up a mourner's procession!
Likewise, if you're venturing into a dungeon or a cave - and be sure to check out the Hedge Mage's Guides for dungeons and caves - it helps to know that really red light, while it can make it awkward for us surface folks to see, tends to strain the sensitive eyes of sighted deep folks far less than the more familiar shades of sunlight or firelight, and that strongly violet light usually indicates some kind of natural pocket of magic, likely to be home to all kinds of worrying things. So learning to control the color of your light cantrips can be an extremely basic but useful tool for a hedge mage, as I hope you're coming to see.
(Omitted: a lengthy chart of phonetic emphasis and altered gestures from the initial diagram, with indicators for what it does to the result of the spell.)
With that all under our belts, I hope you're all prepared for the next lesson, every wizard's best friend and a hedge mage's useful tool, the humble firebolt!
How did this even get published, Hodge? Who even published it? Get me a name for this so-called Hedge Mage! -K.S.
8 notes · View notes
Text
It's been a bit, but I've been working on a few different things. I am currently doing a reread of one of my favorite series called Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Diniman, which opened me up to the LitRPG genre as a whole, which I quickly came to love and adore. I've been working on building a world with an RPG style premise, and this is the test piece I've come up with. I was getting antsy in setting up in the world rules, classes, races, leveling system, etc. So, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to let me know! As always, thanks for reading :)
---------------------------------------------------
Flames whipped by my face as I just barely dodged in time. I eyed my attacker just as they threw out another volley of flames, these were more globular than the last. I dodged it, but the glob of heat hit the burned wall behind me, splashing my back with little dabs of gooey heat. I watched my health drop from around 60% to a little above 50%. 
“Definitely a magic build. Either Half-Fey or full,” I thought as I gauged the damage. Even through my fire resistance, that ate through more than I was comfortable with. I decided I needed to end this fast. Ducking behind cover, I tossed out a smoke bomb. Digging through inventory was a pain in the middle of a fight when seconds can matter. 
“Shit, shit, where is it?” I thought, scrambling to find it. There it is. I unslotted my smoke bombs and put the Potion of Fire Resistance in my hotlist. I'd have preferred to save it for a later fight, but it wouldn't do me any good if I was dead. The thing had been a pain to find the right crafting materials for, requiring legendary level ingredients. Still, after reading the description, it was definitely worth it. 
Potion of Fire Resistance - Legendary
Grants the user Fire Nullification for 120 seconds. Grants user Fire Damage Reduction by 25% for 120 seconds following Nullification. This is a single-use item. 
Following the description was some flavor text in red font that I didn't have time to read. I used the potion and felt as frost grew around my armor, encasing me entirely before vanishing. A single red orb began orbiting me from my right shoulder to left hip. I passed my sword through it with nothing happening to either. 
“Well that's neat,” I thought before I readied my weapon. My smokescreen still had a few seconds before fading and I had to be ready to strike as soon as it did. 
“Blink Strike to close the distance and follow up with Skyward Slash. Juggle if I can-” I didn't have time to finish the thought. Another Firebolt ripped through my remaining smokescreen. It missed by a few inches, but it created a trail right to the caster. Gripping the sword in both hands, I leveled it to my shoulder, the tip pointing straight through the dissipating swirl of smoke. Taking a step, I activated the skill. 
Rushing forward in a blur, I landed a hit directly on the Fey's shoulder. The blade landed deep and I watched her health bar drop to a little above 25%. Her left hand readied another glob of molten fire that she threw directly onto me. Thankfully, I still had my FireNull for 100 seconds still. My hovering red orb took the hit, splattering the molten fire on me. 
With my sword still in her shoulder, I bent my knees and jumped, activating Skyward Slash, rocketing the two of us into the air. “Now comes the hard part,” I thought, dropping back down slightly before her. Her health was deep in the red, maybe 10% left. 
I crouched and turned my weapon to the flat of the blade. It made for an awkward upswing, but after trial and error with tons of mobs, I had found this easier than either using the blade itself or trying to switch to a bludgeoning weapon. I swung upward, connecting and bounced the Fey back up in the air. Skyward Slash may not deal much damage, but its cooldown is only 10 seconds. That meant if I kept this up for a swing or two more, I could finish the fight. 
She was dropping again, but this time she threw out another ball of molten fire splashing more both on and around me. My potion still had 80ish seconds before I'd start taking damage. I repeated my previous steps, juggling her back into the air. I readied and jumped again, activating Skyward Slash. That's when two arrows shot through the air hitting both of us just as my hit connected. 
The Fey's health dropped to zero as she hit the floor shattering into a thousand pieces. I landed and noticed an indicator by my health bar. It was a grouping of three purple spheres. Poison. 
“Goddammit,” I said. Poison Arrows usually meant a sniper type class or even worse, a sniper type class specializing in assassination. I pulled the arrow out and it revealed a serrated edge in the tip. A new icon sprang into existence beside my poisoned icon, a red blood drop. Now I had both poison and a bleed effect, which my Potion of Fire Resistance did absolutely nothing against. I watched in horror as my slowly draining health picked up even more speed. 50% then 45% then 40. I had to admit these two ailments stacked together really well, as frustrating as it is to fight against. 
Assassination type snipers will use status ailments to either drain away health or mana from a safe spot before going in for the kill. It seems like an easy choice when picking a class, but the trade off is the insane amount of grinding required to level it up. Most mobs are resistant to at least half of the ailments meaning their level grinding can take almost twice as long as anyone else. It's just easier to pick up a sword or cast a spell instead of using trial and error to figure out what works against them and what doesn't. 
I looked around for where the shot had come and couldn't find where it had come from. There were two raised platforms to the right and one to the left. I decided to check the higher on the right first, high ground would mean if I was wrong at least I'd see them before they'd see me. 
A movement trick I had picked up was jumping, then right as I began falling down I'd activate Skyward Slash. I was basically jerry-rigging a double jump at the cost of a 10 second cooldown skill. My FireNull Orb blinked away and I felt the invisible ice surrounding me begin to slowly melt as I completed the maneuver. I landed heavily as the poison faded away, leaving me at 20% with the bleed still going for another 10 seconds. As I turned, wind rushed passed me and I felt the sting of a blade cut through my stomach. 
My health dropped to around 5% but my bleed had been refreshed and I knew this was it. I turned to face my attacker, my health ticking down. It was an elf, her longbow was so big it almost touched the ground from her back. Above her head, her ID read as Kali. My vision faded into blackness. 
A moment later, my vision filled with big red letters. YOU'VE DIED. After a second the words faded into the blackness. A headshot of my character came into view. 
Ryo. Level 55 Human. Class: Fighter, Subclass: Blade Master. 
Stats -
Strength: 20 (+3 Ring of Strength) (+5 Battle Hardened Short Sword) 
Dexterity: 18 (+1 Chloranthy Ring) 
Constitution: 25 (+2 Shield of Battle Hungry Berserker) 
Intelligence: 7 
Wisdom: 5
Placement in Uncommon Battle Tournament: 31 out of 150. Good luck next tournament.
5 notes · View notes
fomalhaut48 · 2 years
Text
DnD gems, vol. 31
DM: "The little girl decides to hide instead of fighting." PC: "Run, you fools!"
DM: "I have too many NPCs, what's his name again..." PC1: "Joe!" PC2: "Steve!" PC3: "Bob!" PC4: "Will Smith!" DM: "Okay guys, please stop helping me..."
DM: "You hear the screams." PC: "This is acoustic pollution!"
DM: "PC1, your HP falls to minus, you're on the floor." PC2: "Is he dead or unconscious?" DM: "Just unconscious, come on, we're not playing TPK (Total Party Kill) yet..."
PC1: "I cast Magical Inspiration on PC2 Paladin so she can heal us better." PC2: "Okay, I'll use it next time somebody wants to die." PC3: "Okay, we'll tell you if we WANT to die!"
DM: "You're lying on the ground, you're fainted... wait, you're not... you're dead... wait, no, you just got healed..."
PC1 (tank): "You always leave me there in front of the enemy, I will soil my beautiful shiny armor!" PC2: "That is your freaking job!"
DM: "You don't manage to hit the enemy, the firebolt misses." PC: "There was a spider, I swear! I hit that!"
DM: "The enemy was very happy to see PC1 fall." PC2: "He's a sadist!” DM: "Yeah." PC3: "Does he have a BDSM room? A Dungeon in a Dungeon?"
DM: "The friendly NPC's ears are bleeding." PC: "Can I throw to see what his problem is?" DM: "Just those magical screams hurting his brain, nothing is wrong!"
DM: "The enemy asks female PC how hard she is... wait, wrong word!"
DM: "The NPC walks in on the fight and asks 'What is going on here?'" PC1: "Oh, just arguing if the walls are better mossy or dirty." PC2: "They are mouldy!"
Dark Lord: "You people have something of mine." Pretty female PC: "Me?!"
PC: "Really, I hate your guts, and I wish you had testicles for eyes..."
PC1: "I hit female PC2's ass!" PC2: "I'm wearing plate armor." PC1: "Then you'll get a dent in it!"
PC: "I won't put the plate armor over my bare skin, to mar my beautiful white skin which I cure with ointment all the time?!"
PC1: "I thought Chaotic Evil characters just light everything on fire." PC2: "That's not Chaotic Evil, that's pyromaniac."
2 notes · View notes
onbeinganangel · 3 years
Text
warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich
not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)
damned if you do it and damned if you don’t
(draco/harry, 1.8k)
Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.
He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.
A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”
Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”
Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.
It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”
It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”
It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”
But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.
Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.
Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.
Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”
He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.
Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.
“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.
And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.
“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.
It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“
Draco tries to move towards the voice.
“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.
“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”
“Harry.” His Harry.
“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”
“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.
“I won’t let you.”
Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”
And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.
“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.
Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.
“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.
And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.
He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.
“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.
“But—“
“I know, darling. Me too.”
Darling? Harry… too?
“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.
Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.
“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”
And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”
155 notes · View notes
raeynbowboi · 3 years
Text
How to Play as Belle in DnD 5e
Tumblr media
Belle is my favorite Disney Princess, and from my favorite fairytale covered by the Disney company. Which is why it’s a crying shame she hasn’t been properly built until now. I mean, I have built her before, but that was terrible, and I’ve since changed my mind on how best to build her. So, go on. Unfold your menu. Take a glance, and then you’ll, have to suffer through my cringy attempt at humor.
Tumblr media
Belle is a perfectly ordinary person. There’s nothing too remarkable about her. As such, it’s easy to write her off as just an ordinary Standard Human. But hold on, there’s her literary version to consider. In the very first version written by Suzanne-Barbot de Villeneuve in 1740, Belle is the daughter of a king and a fairy, making Belle a half-fairy. So, you could also build her as a Variant Human with the Fey Touched feat to give her that fey analogue, or go Half-Elf for the bonus skills.
Tumblr media
BACKGROUND
Belle’s background can lean one of two ways, and I recommend shaping her background to the subclass you pick out for her.
Guild Artisan As a guild artisan, Belle can be a tinkerer, metalworker, or alchemist by trade. It’s also called Guild Merchant, and her father is a merchant in most versions of the fairytale, fitting as most peasant girls would likely take up her father’s trade. This puts more emphasis on Belle making things by hand, and gives her proficiency with Insight and Persuasion.
Sage With this background, Belle is a researcher or librarian, recording and preserving knowledge in a vast library or workshop. This feeds more into Belle’s love of literature and reading, and is a good translation of Belle’s hobbies and interests into the realm of Dungeons and Dragons. The Sage background gives Belle proficiency with Arcana and History.
Tumblr media
CLASS
ARTIFICER
As tempting as a Lore Mastery or Order of the Scribes Wizard would be to make Belle a magical intellect, I find that the more scientific angle of the Artificer feels more at home with the daughter of an inventor. Granted, if Belle grew up in the setting of DnD, she may be far more fascinated with wizardry and magic, but as a pure translation of her screen counterpart, the logic-driven inventor class feels more appropriate for her. Especially since it can easily allow her spells to be reflavored as whacky inventions created either by Belle or her father. However, if you’d rather play Belle as a dedicated squishy caster with a love for magic instead of science, then either Lore Mastery Wizard or Order of the Scribes Wizard is a perfectly appropriate substitution build for Belle. And if an INT caster isn’t really doing it for you, Belle also works great as a Knowledge Domain Cleric who seeks to understand the universe, or an Arcana Domain Cleric who worships a powerful enchantress and seeks to understand the magical strings that connect all things together in the great glamorweave of magic.
ARCHIVIST (UA)
If Belle chooses this subclass, have her background be a Sage. As an Archivist, Belle is a researcher who uses her technology to gather and store information. The articial mind feature dosen’t specify if the object with the mind can think or talk, however. If it can, Belle can create Lumiere and Cogsworth to store information for her. Or, if the object is just an object that can show Belle information, then have her use Beast’s enchanted mirror to show her things.
ARTILLERIST
As an Artillerist, Belle will gain more from being a Guild Artisan. It’s not quite Belle’s style, but this artificer subclass comes the closest to making Belle an inventor, as she can craft laser cannons, flamethrowers, mobile forcefields, and other things. I did consider the Battle Smith, but that one seems far more focused on Belle herself fighting on the front lines, and that doesn’t really fit her style. Belle is far more at home tinkering and inventing than she is standing over a hot anvil, forging weapons.
Tumblr media
SIDEKICK
GNOLL DEFENDER WARRIOR
The new sidekick mechanic introduced in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything allows us to be joined by a simplified build PC that can be any creature type with a CR 1/2 or lower. I chose a gnoll as these bipedal hyena-like creatures come the closest to Beast’s aesthetic, although the Jackalwere is another great option in its hybrid form, and lets Beast play more with a werewolf type angle. As Belle’s sidekick, Beast can flank her in battle, and so long as he’s within 5 feet of her, Belle’s enemies will have disadvantage on hitting her. Though he also works as an Attacker Warrior, charging ahead to the front lines while Belle stays in the back of the team’s formation to cast her spells from a distance. Just pick his warrior style by how he approaches combat. If you want to lean more into the Artificer angle and make the Beast something she’s built, use the stats for the Stone Giant Statue and make it an Anvilwrought.
Tumblr media
Belle’s Spell Library
Cantrips Firebolt Message Ray of Frost Shocking Grasp
1st Level Catapult Grease Tasha’s Caustic Brew
2nd Level Arcane Lock Heat Metal Magic Weapon
3rd Level Elemental Weapon Glyph of Warding Tiny Servant
4th Level Fabricate Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere Summon Construct
5th Level Animate Objects Bigby’s Hand Creation
Tumblr media
Ultimately, whether you favor Belle as a tinkerer or a mage, she’ll make great use of her keen intellect in Dungeons and Dragons, and with the sidekick feature, she can be flanked by a bestial creature without having to dip into Beast Master Ranger, or having another player agree to make Beast in order to complete the set. 
126 notes · View notes
halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
TLTNL- GRAWP
"What I don't understand," Remus said in exasperation, "is how Voldemort was even in Nagini's mind? What on earth kind of magic allows that!"
It had taken them ages for the Marauders to finally stop talking about the twins epic leave of Hogwarts, but finally as James made to grab for the book again, Remus chose now to break in with something he'd been thinking on all morning. He glanced anxiously at Harry, and though he paled and flinched again at the reminder, he waved Remus on with a curious look in place.
"We've no more idea than how he's even alive," Sirius sighed, also glancing at Harry nervously, though in fear for what was happening to his pup, he was sure Harry could handle this conversation so long as he had them around.
"I was wondering if it was some unprecedented Parseltongue ability." Remus offered. "Nagini was telling Voldemort what happened in such detail, Voldemort was visualizing the whole thing, and Harry just happened to be present while that was happening. Just because Snape said it happened one way doesn't mean there aren't other options."
"I mean, I guess it could have happened that way," Lily frowned as she thought that through. "He'd be learning about this information and feeling the emotions in the moment, so it still counts-"
"but doesn't explain Harry's insisting fear he felt he had fangs for a moment," James disagreed.
"Harry still could have just been projecting what Voldemort was visualizing during Nagini's attack," Sirius disagreed.
"None of that explains Dumbledore's sudden no contact with Harry," Lily shot down. "This must be something, more. I can't think how else to put it, but something new must have happened over the summer, some ability Voldemort seems to have. It clearly does involve Harry in some way, his mind and connection at least, that has Dumbledore avoiding Harry."
"That doesn't track with everything else though," James said in exasperation. "Why allow Harry to even know about the Order if he really thought Harry knowing anything was dangerous?"
  "He hasn't let me know much of anything," Harry shot back. He hated having to think about all this again, but it somehow felt better as well. He was no longer in the heat of the memory, being forced to listen to the idea he was turning into Voldemort. Now he instead got to hear them push around theories and ideas, and that would always feel more bearable, especially when he could feel they were close.
James didn't blame Moony for the change of subject, that had probably been on his mind since the part before Snape's memory had turned their world in a new direction, and it was a miracle he hadn't butted in with this by now. Nonetheless he beckoned to Harry, "why don't we do something nice for your mum, we'll do lunch."
Harry didn't hesitate in following him out, Lily watching them with a light frown. She didn't think Harry felt any ill will for James anymore, but clearly James had more to say. So she forced herself to remain in her seat rather than follow.
When James had said, 'do lunch,' he actually just rapped a pot on the stove to start heating leftovers, but it was the thought that counted, right? Instead he watched as Harry uneasily set the table. When both tasks were done, lunch was ready, and still neither had said a word, James finally forced himself to just spit out what he'd been chewing on this whole time.
"I am sorry."
Harry looked around in surprise, that was usually his line.
James watched Harry steadily for a reaction, hoping his continuing to bring this up wouldn't change whatever comfort Harry had taken in from Sirius, but he couldn't let this one drop without saying his piece either. "Not for that time," he clarified, "I'll never let anyone talk to Lily like that, but I am sorry I was that way, and it pushed Snape into saying that. I'm sorry if what I did to him really did push him into being a Death Eater, when I'd spent the past five years of my life showing Sirius that would never happen to him despite his family. I'm sorry for the way Snape treats you, that's entirely my fault."
Harry rested his hand on the back of a chair like he needed the support. The realizations still hit sometimes, that he was speaking to James instead of wishing it like he'd spent all his life doing, and now more than ever after such a harrowing blow to his memory was returned. "I forgave you," he told him with confidence. "It's like Lupin said, you were only fifteen. If you guys had just seen shots of my memory, me shouting at my friends for nothing, Hermione punching Malfoy, Ron's anger at me before the First Task; you'd all be thinking the worst as well. I wish I'd gotten to know more about you, but Mum's right. You changed," Harry stopped there. He wanted to say Snape hadn't, that he was still a bitter fifteen year old treating Harry like dirt because of what James had once done, but the words wouldn't fully come to him either. Snape was still a vindictive arse, but this memory had really charged something in him, leaving him very confused about his full memories to the man.
James didn't seem to notice that part though, as he roughly pulled Harry into a hug. The absolute fear Harry could have actually hated him hadn't really been felt until it was gone.
Harry returned the affection with a natural ease he never would have believed.
He also broke the hug first, saying, "I'm glad this one should be almost over, I've had a bad feeling about it from the start and I really just want to be done with this year."
James agreed at once, though Harry felt like he hadn't made himself plain enough about that bad feeling considering he was still smiling.
At least lunch was a calm affair, Lily saying they should be able to finish this book by dinner if they didn't have any more long dramatic interruptions which she tried to blame entirely on Sirius.
Sirius informed her she did this too much, but took the blame with grace by spending the rest of lunch refusing to talk about anything else by discussing with the boys anything and everything he could about Quidditch.
James and Lily managed to slip away for a few minutes by themselves to care for the baby, and James happily showed Lily a broom design made from redwood. Even if that tree wasn't native to their land, he'd import it just for his Lily flower.
It didn't actually take that much effort though to get them all back in seats, but they'd switched it up just a bit so now Harry was in between James and Sirius again simply to prove he had no ill will towards either of them. Remus took the seat next to Lily and muttered for her alone while James began looking for his place, "any bets on how long before the next catastrophe takes place in here?"
"I'd rather just pretend there's not going to be one," Lily huffed.
"Joys of being a pessimist, either you expect the worst, or you're pleasantly surprised to be wrong," Remus shrugged without remorse.
"That sounded more like the optimistic view on pessimism," Lily rolled her eyes while James began with a genuine smile again.
The story of Fred and George's was retold so often over the next few days that Harry could tell it would soon become the stuff of Hogwarts legend:
"I'm so proud!" Sirius squealed. "We've forever been upstaged by Weasley's and I'm not even upset!"
"I can hardly believe what they did, the mark they left," James couldn't stop smiling for something so momentous as the twins putting themselves into Hogwarts history like that.
For just a moment as Harry watched them react so proudly to this, he got just a touch jealous. They'd made it clear they were proud of him too, but he'd certainly never felt like he'd done anything Marauder worthy like the twins just had. Then he wondered if this was how Ron felt all the time, towards his own brothers, to his own best friend?
it stretched into the two becoming their own phrase, students could now be heard saying if they suffered anymore classes they'd pull a Weasley.
"I can't believe we were so easily replaced with our infamy," Sirius sighed.
"I think hiding our symbol in the Shrieking Shack is still good enough," Remus shrugged, that was where they spent more time than even their dormitory.
"Yeah," James grudgingly agreed, "guess I'm just jealous. If it wasn't for Lily, I'd feel like I wasted my last year at school not doing something as spectacular before I left."
Lily blushed faintly James had actually admitted aloud he'd cooled himself down just for her.
Fred and George had made sure nobody was likely to forget them too soon.
"Oh that's impossible," Sirius said firmly.
For one thing, they hadn't a clue how to remove the swamp filled corridor.
Then James promptly burst out with laughter as he kept envisioning the thing, the others joining in with delight. They hadn't thought the twins could get better and they just kept being proven wrong.
Umbridge and Filch had been seen trying all manner of things to be rid of it, but with nothing working, Filch was given the task of ferrying people across when need be, who was not at all pleased with this.
Lily gave a righteous laugh, still wanting to punt him from the school after what he'd so wanted to do to the twins, to any student. This was far more what he deserved.
Harry was certain that competent teachers could have removed the swamp in an instant,
"Well I do agree," Lily nodded, her mind boggling a bit at this stretch of magic, "I'd like to ask them how. What kind of magic even was that, an ever lasting potion, a transfiguration spell for the corridor?"
"I want to ask the twins!" Sirius whined. "Curse them not having done this yet."
Remus gave him a look for that comment even as he did agree.
but just as in the case of the fireworks, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle.
"The appropriate response," Remus agreed.
Umbridge's door had to be replaced for the two broom shaped holes in it, and rumor now had it Harry's Firebolt was being kept in the dungeon with a security troll to prevent him doing the same.
"I actually believe that," Sirius groaned miserably.
"I wish you'd summoned it to you when they had," James sighed. "Even if you didn't fly off and join them, you'd find a way to keep it out of her webbed fingers."
"I was a little stunned at the moment," Harry protested, and no one argued the point, as they would have been as well.
Her troubles were still only just beginning.
Inspired by the twins, half the population of the school was now vying for the newly vacant position of Troublemakers-in-Chief.
"At some point the title could rest in peace," Lily said without a hope it would happen.
"My fingers are crossed for Ginny now," Sirius grinned, clearly the lot of them ignoring her, "she's got potential."
"What about that one lad always friends with the twins," Remus offered. "He wasn't mentioned going with them, but I'm sure he'd still miss them enough to keep up their legacy one more year."
"Guess it's too much to ask you tried?" James asked of Harry, who was already shaking his head in answer even with a smirk in place for remembering the chaos so constantly erupting in corridors for all this.
Such occurrences of this involved a niffler somehow getting into Umbridge's office and trying to chew off her rings.
"That poor Niffler," Remus said in concern.
"I saw Hagrid nursing it that afternoon," Harry promised.
As well as Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that the Bubble-Head Charm became a new trend,
"I'm glad that spell's gotten some popularity," James grinned even remembering the ire of not knowing about it when it would have come in handy.
even though it gave them all the peculiar appearance of wearing upside-down goldfish bowls on their heads.
"Well, whoever said fashion isn't functional clearly never met that trend setter," Lily giggled.
When he wasn't attending tasks, Filch was prowling the corridors with a horsewhip in hand, desperate to catch someone to use it on, but the problem was there were so many around he had no clue which way to turn.
Harry watched all of them shake their heads in disgust for that, Lily even starting to get a nervous tick picturing some poor innocent kid ending up on the wrong side of him, so soothed, "don't worry, as far as I know, no one actually did get a single hit. If ever it looked like he'd pinned down someone long enough, kids you'd never believe did something to distract him so others could run away. I saw this Slytherin fourth year knock over a statue on purpose after Filch was screaming at a little Hufflepuff girl for accidentally tripping over one and 'destroying school property.'"
As if they hadn't enough reason to smile already, that gave them all yet more warmth for this display.
The Inquisitorial Squad was trying to help, but odd things kept happening to the members. Warrington was submitted to the hospital wing for his skin being covered in something akin to burnt cornflakes,
"I feel like someone got a hold of more wartcap powder," Sirius smirked.
and Pansy missed all her lessons the following day as she had sprouted antlers.
James in particular looked pleased with this bit of magic, one of his personal favorite tricks when people asked why he was called Prongs was to grow antlers on others for answer and claim that as his signature spell.
It also became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had sold in their time, as soon every one of Umbridge's classes were fainting, vomiting, high with fevers, or had blood pouring endlessly from their noses, claiming to have Umbridge-itis.
"A deadly disease I would not wish upon my worst enemy," Remus kept grinning wider every second.
"I don't know, what do you think would happen if we put Voldemort and Umbridge in the same room?" Sirius couldn't help but ask.
"Either they'll kill each other-" Lily said hopefully.
"Or she'll have a new master to follow and somehow become even more terrifying," James shivered. "I still can't believe she's not actually a Death Eater!"
After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret,
Harry sighed heavily for that one, rubbing at the back of his hand in remembrance. Madam Pomfrey had ordered whole stocks of Essence of Murtlap and had started handing them out without question, but none of that made it feel better to see others suffering what he had.
she was forced to let the droves of students leave.
In all their efforts though, no student had come close to the master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred's words to heart.
James looked as if he'd found a treasure map, ticking off each item Peeves did like a new nugget of gold!
In a constant state of cackling, he was never seen without anymore; bursting through walls to scare anyone on the other side, knocking over whatever was upright, regularly shutting Mrs. Norris into anything available, smashing anything remotely breakable, juggling lit candles, flooding whole hallways, dropping tarantulas into the Great Hall during meals,
"I'll bet Ron loved that one," Remus got out in between James' breathless retelling.
and whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.
"I am actually impressed," Lily said faintly. "I never thought he could get worse!"
None of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her.
"I'd be worried if they were," James wheezed, acting so giddy upon reading such massive mayhem he was likely to pass out soon. Of all the regimes going on inside their school, all the hateful new being passed around his son, finally some good was being the cause of it all!
In exact opposite it seemed, as Harry distinctly saw McGonagall pass by Peeves trying to unscrew a chandelier, and she told him it worked the other way.
Sirius fist pumped the air in triumph, all of them red faced from laughter and wishing McGonagall was here already so they could give her a hug in congratulations.
To cap matters, Montague had still not recovered from his sojourn in the toilet;
Sirius managed an extra hard laugh for that swift remembrance.
and his parents had been summoned to the school, the trio watching their arrival on the front lawn through their Charms class.
Hermione was worried they should say something about what happened to him, if it might help Madam Pomfrey cure him.
"Nah," the three Marauders said at once, while Harry rubbed at his temple in some empathy for Montague and Lily just shook her head at them.
Then they froze, and looked to Harry like any hint of no remorse upon another student would set him back into thinking the worst of them again. He however only considered this like he did all their passing comments, just them mouthing off. Even if they did mean it, he still couldn't really care, Madam Pomfrey had fixed worse injuries without anyone's help.
Ron said no at once, he'd be fine.
Harry agreeing it only caused more problems for Umbridge.
"This is true, it's not a good mark for the woman parents have to come up to the school," James smirked.
Not at all distracted, the two tried to tap their teacups and have legs grow from them. The spell was supposed to be like Hermione's, who's had grown four strong willow sticks and was trotting around happily.* Instead, Harry's grew such tiny stumps they didn't even bend enough to bring his cup off the desk, and Ron's were so flimsy the cup stood for only a second before falling and cracking in half.
Hermione repaired Ron's cup for him while still speaking if Montague was permanently injured?
Remus actually considered that for a second, again remembering the half broken cabinet and genuinely wondering if something had gone permanently wrong there.
Harry suddenly felt a heavy twitch cross his mind, some dire warning he should have paid more attention to this, because someone had...but he tried to shake that off and told, "I feel like he recovered." For some reason though, this only made him feel worse, and they easily let the matter drop, all confident Pomfrey could fix this.
Ron insisted no one cared, this was only a good thing for their already slim chances at the Quidditch Cup. If Hermione wanted someone to worry about, let it be him.
"Oh Ron, the spell's not that hard," Lily giggled, Flitwick would probably just assign them more homework practice.
While putting his finger under his cup to help support its weight, he told them he was expecting a howler any day now when it got through Umbridge's screening process.
"Why?" Sirius said slowly.
"If I'd guessed, it would have been back when the DA had been outed, but it's been far too long, he hasn't done anything more recently," James agreed curiously.
Hermione tried to ask why, but Ron was already explaining his mum was going to blame him for not stopping the twins leaving. He should have grabbed their broom tails or something to stop them, this was somehow going to be all his fault.
"Oh, she wouldn't," Lily tried to say even if her tone showed no signs of meaning it.
"I really can't see even Molly doing this one," Sirius shook his head. "I don't remember her ever saying to go after the twins once he got his Prefect badge. She's got a bad habit of comparing the youngest to the elders, but never seems to have expected the younger set to tell the elder ones off."
Harry at least fervently hoped so, Ron most certainly did not deserve that one when Harry was their enabler in all of this.
Hermione said if she did, it would be entirely unfair, he couldn't have done anything.
Harry grinned for Hermione again, thankful that finally she seemed to be on their side again in these arguments.
She was confident Molly wouldn't, clearly they had been planning this anyways if they had premise in Diagon Alley.
Ron said that was something odd though, as he wrapped his teacup to try the spell again, but he'd hit it so hard it only fell again.
"I don't think that's helping," Lily randomly giggled.
Where had they gotten the gold for that? Their mum was going to want to know.
"Did they never ask you what you did with your Triwizard Winnings?" James asked. He knew Harry had never told them, but his friends had never brought it up?
"I guess they just assumed I shoved it into my vault," Harry shrugged.
Hermione agreed that had occurred to her too, ignoring her own cup that was going in circles around Harry's cup who still hadn't tried moving with its stubby legs.
"This is just getting insulting," Lily couldn't stop giggling even while she said it.
She'd been wondering if they'd been doing work for Mundungus to get that kind of money.
"That wouldn't have been a bad guess," Remus agreed.
Harry said they hadn't at once.
"You finally going to tell them, because otherwise that was idiotic," Sirius scolded.
"I wasn't going to have their family thinking they'd done something illegal," Harry sighed. "I'd far rather Mrs. Weasley hate me than think something like that of anymore of her children."
"She's not going to hate you," James at once said with conviction. "The only thing she might be is flustered at the generosity, but she'll just have to get over that."
They asked how Harry would know that, and he only hesitated a moment before finally telling why.
Hermione was so surprised, her cup took a dive off the desk and neither of them noticed.
"Timing," Lily gave the loudest snicker of all.
Ron stated this was excellent, at once asking if he could tell his mum this was all Harry's fault!
Sirius burst out with laughter once again, James nodding along and agreeing, "Ron's priorities."
Harry agreed he'd better, especially if she was going to start thinking her sons had stolen cauldrons.
"I can see why you wanted to wait," Remus agreed, "now they're really going and she can't guilt them into giving it back."
Hermione said nothing at all for the rest of the lesson, but Harry had a shrewd suspicion that her self-restraint was bound to crack before long.
They all sighed, not particularly wanting to hear another Hermione lecture about what Harry had done stupidly lately.
Sure enough, once they were out in the quad in the weak May light, she turned to him with a determined look on her face, so Harry interrupted before she could start.
"Has that ever helped?" Sirius asked in surprise.
"Nope, but it was worth a shot after the last time she spent a whole day on it," Harry sighed.
He told her not to even start, it was over and done with, and to save her breath because he did not regret doing this for them.
Hermione sounded hurt when she said she wasn't going to say anything about that.
"Maybe if she wasn't nagging you all the time, she wouldn't be so offended when you try to stop her doing it," Remus rolled his eyes.
"Oh stop," Harry cut them off with a sigh. "Hermione's a bit much, I know that better than anyone, but lay off her for a bit, I jumped the wrong conclusion that time."
They gave in with a muttered apology.
Ron snorted disbelievingly and Hermione threw him a very dirty look.
"Can't say that wasn't deserved though," Remus muttered.
She insisted she wasn't, she'd wanted to ask him when he was going to ask Snape for more Occlumency lessons
"Why!" Sirius demanded. "He's been tortured enough this year!"
Once Fred and George's dramatic departure had evaporated their talk, the two had wanted to know what Harry had gone to talk to Sirius about. Still failing to explain the initial reason, Harry instead told them it had been to do with Snape stopping his lessons and Sirius wanted him to keep going with them.
James crinkled his nose at this, saying, "there are far too many holes in that, I'm not surprised Hermione's trying to get the real story."
"That's still not why she was having a go at me," Harry groaned.
He had regretted this ever since, as Hermione had then chosen to bring the subject up again when Harry least expected it.
"Ah, well honestly this one's your own fault, I could have told you not to bring this back up with her," Lily rolled her eyes.
"Especially as you still have no intentions of doing it," Remus shook his head, Harry's expression made that abundantly clear, and he felt quite sore his warning had so easily been brushed off by Harry.
Hermione snapped at him he couldn't pretend like they weren't needed, Ron had said he'd been muttering in his sleep again.
Harry gave Ron a furious look, who had the grace to be ashamed.
"I don't know, I can see the good of that one," Lily sighed as she saw some snippy comment on Sirius' lips. "He's worried about his friend, not on the same level as Hermione, but both recognize far more than you seem to this shouldn't be entertained," she finished with a look at Harry, who also had the grace to look ashamed for never trying harder at this. He wasn't sure if it was his mother's guilt trip, or something far more unspeakable that was causing him to feel this so heavily...
Ron apologetically said for both it had only been a bit, he'd been muttering about reaching further.
Harry lied he'd been dreaming of Quidditch, he wanted Ron to reach out just a bit further for the Quaffle.
Ron's ears went red, while Harry didn't feel a drop of remorse for lying.
"Brutal," Sirius laughed in surprise.
"But deserved," James sighed.
He had in fact again dreamed all the way up to the room full of glass spun orbs, but again woken up feeling he'd been moments away from the true want.
James stopped in alarm at the noise Harry made, all of them looking to him with deep concern as he groaned with misery, head in his hands again, breathing so heavily they could have been his last breaths.
"Harry!" James swiftly put the book aside at such an alarming reaction that somehow got worse each time this was brought up. "Harry, calm down! You're going to be fine, whatever is in there, you are going to be fine!"
This had no effect on making him better, as that was not what was gripping him so tight he couldn't breath. It wasn't his safety he so feared.
"It's okay, it's going to be okay," Sirius insisted, looking frantically to Lily or Remus to help, but they had no more clue what left him in such a mess. "Erm, what if I-" his mind flagged desperately for something to distract Harry with, "show you how we created the Marauders Map!"
"What?" Harry looked up in genuine surprise, the pain from his skull not yet fully subsiding which must explain the tears trickling out, but he wiped furiously at them to keep his attention on Sirius.
"Yeah," he confirmed at once. "Something to look forward to!"
James agreed at once, saying, "it took me a few days to create it, but it won't take near as long to recreate it. I've been wanting to show Lily anyways, you'll both get a kick out it."
Harry gave a slow nod, taking easier breaths now as he kept this promise tight inside him. Whatever horrid thing had happened in his past to cause this feeling, they were right, he had something he could cling to now as a promise he wouldn't have to relive his memory long.
James waited an extra moment to make sure Harry wasn't going to set himself into a full blown panic attack before gingerly picking the book back up, almost afraid of what else it was going to do to his son if this topic didn't change soon.
Hermione inquired then that he was still trying with his Occlumency?
Harry lied and said he was, but the truth was he was curious about all this and wanted the dreams to keep going.
Harry's whole center shook, he looked very much like he would collapse in a fit in moments. Clearly what he'd been thinking at fifteen, the exact opposite was trying to run through his mind now, and the two together were wreaking havoc inside of him.
James reached over again, grasping his shoulder firmly until he fought back for control, still waving him to go on adamantly for this to just be over with.
The problem was, with less than a month till exams, his mind usually seemed much more focused on stupid dreams.
"First you were complaining about them, now you want them and you're not getting enough of them," Remus tried to get a rise out of Harry instead of watching him tear himself apart for something he couldn't yet understand. "You never can seem to make up your mind eh?"
Harry offered him a flimsy smile that was as weak as the toddler upstairs.
He also suspected the more Hermioneish part of his mind was guilting him into waking up before the journey's end.
"Hermione doesn't seem so bad now she's right," James offered as Harry kept rubbing at his temples.
Sirius gave Remus a sympathetic look as well which Moony easily grasped. It wasn't just him being ignored, Harry wasn't taking advice from anyone about this.
Something new to distract him was the final match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, which was to take place on the last weekend of May. Although Slytherin had been narrowly defeated by Hufflepuff in their last match,
"Wow, where's my description of that match!" Sirius yelped, grasping at any pleasant conversation, and this was an easy one.
"Nothing too memorable happened," Harry shrugged. "Malfoy actually caught the Snitch, for once, but he took Krum's way out. Hufflepuff was winning on points, Montague hadn't come back yet and the appointed Slytherin was a right idiot, I don't know what they were doing during training but it wasn't practicing."
"As much as they deserve," James cheered, wriggling in pleasure even as he kept a close eye on Harry to make sure he really was trying to put mention of that Department past him.
Gryffindor did not yet dare for a victory, though no one said it to him, because of Ron's goalkeeping ability.
Ron took his own outlook on the morning of, telling them at least he couldn't get any worse.
"There's the bright side," Lily snickered in surprise, while James just looked bemused at this. Better than constantly ragging on himself he supposed.
As Harry and Hermione were shuffling into the crowd, Hermione mentioned she suspected this game might just go better because Fred and George weren't around, they never helped his confidence.
"I can see that," Remus said fairly.
"They mocked him from time to time," Sirius disagreed, "but they were never so bad I think it damaged Ron any more than that horrid song. I don't think they'll make a real difference to him."
"Least Angelina already had their replacements," James grumbled, still wishing it was Harry on that pitch rather than Ginny, he was sick of reading side line events, he wanted to be back in the air!
Luna Lovegood overtook them with what appeared to be a live eagle perched on top of her head.
The boys burst out in surprised laughter Luna had indeed gone further with that idea!
It was as Harry watched this though, not at all mean spirited but that recent memory still with him, that the expression they'd first carried upon hearing of her finally clicked as he turned sharply to them. "Would you lot have done all that to Luna?"
James' automatic response wanted to be no, but he still considered the question for a moment before saying slowly, "ah, well, we certainly would have liked to have words with her, she's a fascinating thing."
"You would have mocked her?" Harry outright demanded with a raised brow.
Sirius blew a chunk of hair out of his face, but didn't deny, "guess it depends on how well we bothered to get to know her. We thought Remus was a right odd ball before we had a proper chat with him."
Harry saw they were still avoiding the question, as he'd honestly noticed outside their little group they didn't seem to 'converse' with much of anyone unless it was for a motive. Still though, he was just as fascinated they looked a touch ashamed even as they side stepped this. He hadn't realized his disapproval really meant so much to them.
Then the teams assembled on the edge of the field, and Hermione said her surprise she'd forgotten Cho would be playing. Harry grunted in response, he had not.
"Ex crush versus ex fan girl!" Sirius said loudly, very clearly trying not to let Harry linger on that last subject.
"Sadly I think Cho's got the better edge, she's played more games, actually wants this position," James eagerly put in.
"I wouldn't underestimate Ginny, we don't know how long Cho's been flying outside her house team, but we know Ginny's been doing it since single digits, she may well have the advantage," Remus offered insight.
Harry decided to let the Luna matter go, they'd yet to actually be doing anything wrong to her and there was no sense yelling at them for something they hadn't done wrong yet to one of his friends.
Across from them in the stands, the Slytherins were all filing in, and Harry hoped desperately they wouldn't have anymore chances to sing Weasley Is our King.
"I wasn't aware they needed an excuse, they just continued doing it because they're arse holes," Lily grumbled.
Lee Jordan, who had been very dispirited since Fred and George had left,
"That was it," Remus huffed for forgetting.
"Guess I can't blame him for not being in the mood to prank others when his mates up and did that," Sirius sighed.
was commentating as usual. As the teams zoomed out on to the pitch he named the players with something less than his usual gusto.
"I can just imagine McGonagall feeling sorry for the poor kid," James frowned sadly.
Harry watched Cho chat with Davies as the teams matched up, prepared to shake hands, and Harry found he only had a slight twinge of jealous as the two Ravenclaws smiled at each other before the captains shook hands.
"Guess that crush wasn't as gone as we thought," James looked to Harry in surprise, who only shrugged, he really didn't have much of a memory for this game, especially not Cho, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Surely even if he wasn't playing in it, he'd have a care? Maybe Ron really hadn't done any better and he'd tried to block the whole thing out, but that wasn't the right kind of disconnected feeling...
Lee began as usual, saying who had the Quaffle in what position, and Davies was already heading for Gryffindors goals, Gryffindor had a chance at making it, and- Lee swore.
"Least he hasn't lost all of his enthusiasm," Remus chuckled.
Ravenclaw had scored, and the Slytherins at once took up the chance with their song.
Harry and Hermione were distracted from what happened next by Hagrid sidling up to them, trying to remain crouched as if wanting to be out of sight, but even doubled over he was four feet taller than those next to him.
"Why's he trying to hide at all?" Lily asked in surprise. "He's been known to come to a few matches."
"Don't look at us," Remus shrugged even as he looked eagerly at James for this explanation that he had his fingers crossed in hope for.
He asked if they'd come with him, now, while everyone was watching the game.
"I can't believe I'm saying this," James gaped down at this, "but I'd actually go with him."
"If there's one thing to drag away a good Quidditch match," Sirius agreed, though finished rather threateningly, "but Hagrid had better finally be showing you what he's been up to, if it's for anything less, I'll find a way to curse that man through his skin for cutting this off."
Harry merely hummed in agreement.
Hagrid's nose was gently dripping blood. His eyes were both blackened. Harry had not seen him this close-up since his return to the school; he looked utterly woebegone.
Lily crooned loudly for the poor dear, all of them feeling a pain deep inside for what Hagrid was putting himself through. He must have a really good answer for this one!
Harry agreed without any thought.
Harry felt absolutely no regret for this decision, even as his face tightened just a bit, his innards promising this wasn't going to be a pleasant stroll.
The three got themselves out of the stands, Hagrid saying how much he appreciated them, and hoped she didn't see them leaving.
"Only one she I can think of," Lily spat, "and sadly she might have."
"She can't stop them from going off with Hagrid," Remus miserably tried to argue, already feeling it pointless.
Harry said Umbridge was surrounded by her Inquisitorial Squad like she was expecting trouble, there was a good chance she hadn't noticed them.
"Guess she understands less than I thought, which is saying something. No one would try a prank during a Quidditch game," Sirius heavily rolled his eyes.
Hagrid said that may be good for them, give them more time, as he started heading towards the Forest.
Lily began playing with a strand of hair with nerves. She knew Hagrid wasn't purposefully leading Harry to anything dangerous, but this was certainly not a pleasant beginning in her opinion, and it was nice to see the others faces showed agreement even as well used to the Forest as they were.
Hermione asked what they were doing as they went across the lawn, but in favor of answering Hagrid heard a roar go up from the crowd behind them and asked if someone else had scored.
Harry said it would be Ravenclaw again.
Harry winced heavily and they all felt the same, maybe leaving had been a good idea anyways, that wasn't fun to think about.
Hagrid was so distracted, he said this was a good thing.
"Now I know he's not thinking right," Sirius grumped.
Hermione tried to turn into Hagrid's cabin when they passed it, but Hagrid kept walking right to the edge of the trees where his crossbow was waiting.
"He must have just come back from whatever he was training," Remus realized.
"Think he thinks he's finally got it domesticated and wants to show off?" James asked, that didn't feel important enough to be dragged away from Quidditch, but then, Hagrid had different priorities.
"I still think there's something more than that going on," Lily sighed. "It's very clear Hagrid cares deeply for something new going on, just training a new best can't really mean more than his job?" She phrased it as a question though, none of them were quite sure of Hagrid's comments from before.
Harry asked why he needed that, he hadn't taken it with him when they'd seen the Thestrals.
"This new thing of his is less and less encouraging," Sirius agreed.
Hagrid said they hadn't been going in as deep, and that was before Firenze left the Forest.
"Why's that change anything?" Remus asked in surprise.
Hermione asked why that made a difference.
"Thank you Sirius!" Remus said quickly and with such a mocking gratitude you could almost believe it. "Really, just thank you so much for sharing that, I hadn't a clue I'd done it!"
"Alright, no need to get snippy," Sirius smirked.
Hagrid said the other centaurs were now very riled up. It used to be he could go wherever he liked in this Forest, they were always friendly, but not anymore.
"What's that got to do with Hagrid though?" James ruffled up his brow.
"Familiar loyalty," Sirius nodded to himself as he explained aloud. "The centaurs know Hagrid's trust in Dumbledore, they'll blame anyone associated with him right now for what he asked a Centaur to do."
"But it was Firenze's decision," Harry protested. "Why be mad at us?"
"For offering it," Remus sighed.
Harry felt a deep chill web around his mind, promising he had no want to deal with an angry centaur.
Angry didn't cover it, they were livid with Dumbledore and Firenze, probably would have kicked their fellow centaur to death if Hagrid hadn't stepped in, he'd had half the herd on him.
They all gave sympathetic noises for that, Harry even saw some traces of fear in them at the same time. He could hardly imagine the scene himself, but just the thought was giving him the creeps, it probably was terrifying thinking about all this in detail when he wasn't so distracted wondering why he may have seen it in person.
Harry was amazed Hagrid had stopped all that, and Hagrid said he certainly couldn't have just stood by. Then he added more menacingly he'd have thought Firenze would remember that before sending stupid warnings.
"I'm worried he was trying to return a favor," Lily muttered, still considering Hagrid's injuries. They weren't yet deadly, but if he kept at it, they may keep progressing.
Hermione asked if that's what Hagrid wanted their help with, the centaurs?
"Oh he'd never ask for your help with that," Remus said at once.
"And those injuries started up well before this," Lily agreed.
Hagrid simply said no, and kept plunging deeper into the shadows. Harry wasn't too worried, he'd been in the Forest a few times and followed Hagrid willingly, until he stepped off the path. Remembering vividly what had happened in his past when he did this, he tried to ask where they were going, but Hagrid didn't answer as he plunged into the more wild parts of the woods. Harry and Hermione had a hard time following, often getting caught in thickets and brambles while Hagrid walked right through them.
"I'm surprised he hasn't created a new path, as often as he seems to have headed to this thing," James said, his eyes still narrowed suspiciously to what Hagrid had added to a Forest he knew so well.
After several miles of heavy silence where even the snapping of a twig felt ominous, it occurred to him that he had never managed to get this far into the Forest without meeting some kind of creature.
The tense unease kept growing in here, like the book was pressing that darkness out and shadowing the whole room with its eerie vibe. Harry had yet had a very pleasant experience in this Forest in any sense, and even with Hagrid inviting them into this one, they could already feel it wasn't going to turn out much better.
When Hagrid came to an abrupt halt, Harry walked right into him and fell back into a thorny bush Hermione had to dig him out of.
Hagrid apologized and decided to explain back here before they got to the spot, and began by saying there was a good chance he'd be getting the sack any day.
"He did not bring them all the way out there to say that," Sirius rolled his eyes.
"No," Remus agreed, "but we know he finds this more important than that, so at least we're finally getting that answer."
Hermione said he'd done well so far, what changed?
Hagrid said Umbridge thought he'd put that Niffler in her office.
"That's ridiculous," Remus scoffed at once, it was akin to him doing that, and he'd never put anything in her vicinity if he could help it.
"And when has she ever done anything remotely reasonable," Sirius' face was scrunched up for the ludicrousness of it even as he agreed.
Harry asked if it was before he'd thought about it.
"Harry," James said in exasperation, his son should know full well Hagrid would never use a creature for such a purpose.
"I know," Harry agreed with his idiotics. "Reflex question." This lot knew all about that.
Hagrid said no, but that hadn't convinced Umbridge, who associated any problems with creatures on him. He'd honestly leave now so that he wouldn't have to suffer in public like Trelawney had.
James didn't have to think about that one at all as he nodded in agreement, he could respect that.
He'd be useful to the Order out there helping Dumbledore.
"Hagrid knows where Dumbledore is?" That one caught Remus by surprise.
"I wouldn't be surprised if the Order actually does," Lily shrugged, "even if we're not sure now."
They had Grubbly-Plank to get them through their exams, his voice wobbled there and broke.
Lily felt a heartbreaking sigh pour out of her, she didn't want Hagrid to ever feel unneeded! She wanted him in her son's life just for being such a good man, no matter how he was in a class!
The problem was, he couldn't just leave without telling anyone, and he needed their help, and Ron's if he was willing.
Harry agreed at once asking what he needed them to do?
"You have such a big heart," Lily told her son, starting to feel a little teary eyed herself for what Hagrid was going through.
Harry had no response for that, he'd do anything to help his friend.
Hagrid thanked them tearfully, and led them the rest of the way.
"I thought he said he was going to explain!" Sirius said, the suspense was about to kill him. "He just stopped to tell them what was going on!"
"That's the same thing," Remus told him just to keep James paused for an extra second.
Sirius scowled at him, while James decided to ignore them anyways.
They reached a small clearing where a great mound was in front of them like a den, and all around were trees ripped up by the roots. Hagrid breathed sleeping, and Harry heard it too, a great set of lungs at work. He looked sideways at Hermione, who looked terrified.
"I don't blame her," Remus muttered, his mind flipping through all sorts of things that lived inside mounds, though as this could be something undiscovered even any of those may not be possible.
James was more in deep curiosity than anything. Hagrid was there, he had no fear Harry would come to any harm.
She asked who is he?
"Err," Lily began in confusion, sure she'd heard wrong.
Then she kept going, her voice shaking why he was here, Hagrid had said none wanted to come!
"What's, Hermione, on, about?" Sirius said slowly, he couldn't put together such a declaration with just an animal...
Harry looked to Hagrid, Hermione, and then realization struck as he looked back at the mounded earth, which in fact was moving in time with the deep breaths. It was a curved back.
"A giant!" Remus interrupted with a near shriek. "He actually brought a giant into that forest!"
James' voice had failed him, his mouth left hanging open so he couldn't have kept going even when the book had broken off. This truly was a new level of unbelievable.
"Has he lost his mind!" Sirius was so blown away by this one he wouldn't even deny the squeak in his voice. "A giant! A real, bloody, giant!"
Harry felt just as numb as the others from shock, but it was his fumbling fingers that snagged the book away to try and force this to keep going.
Hagrid agreed he hadn't exactly wanted to, but Hagrid had to bring him.
"It's his family," Lily whispered, her eyes still too wide from shock, but a flash of understanding lit them nonetheless.
"When he was at the Three Broomsticks," James recalled breathlessly.
"Oh Hagrid," Remus groaned in sudden understanding, genuine sympathy now for the man even if he couldn't find the air to really say it.
Sirius wasn't quite there yet, he was still putting his mind into the thought someday he'd walk into his Forest and a giant would be there!
Hermione demanded why!
Hagrid insisted that if he just spent a little time around here, taught him some manners, he could show everyone how harmless he was.
"Harmless!" Lily said near hysterics. "He's been beating the shit out of him for months!"
"Hasn't killed him yet though," Sirius couldn't help but point out as this started to fully form in his mind.
"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Lily demanded, her voice wasn't lowering in volume and starting to hurt their ears.
Hermione accused this was why he was always injured. Hagrid defended he didn't know his own strength.
"That I'd actually believe," Remus said slowly, some form of acceptance starting to set in as he really thought past the shock.
Hermione still couldn't believe this was why he'd taken two extra months to get home!
"Yeah, I'd say lugging a giant behind you could slow you down!" Lily's voice was still extremely high pitched, but at least she was making an attempt to lower it now.
Hermione demanded why he had, he'd have been happier with his own kind!
Hagrid insisted he'd been picked on while there for being so small.
"Small." James repeated the word slowly, shaking his head back and forth as he was stuck in the same vision as Sirius, their forays into the Forest suddenly being interrupted by a giant crashing through a nearby tree, no one wanted to know how Moony would have reacted to that. Yet thankfully Harry reading was putting a good distance from that image, and James got the book back from Harry without fuss.
Hermione repeated small in near hysterics.
"I suppose, by that description, he's either not fully grown, or a runt," Remus nodded.
"Try telling him that," Harry muttered, his mind still boggled at such a huge movement as his breathing.
Hagrid pleaded with them to understand, near tears as he told that was his brother.
"That, is a relation, that makes sense," Lily grudgingly agreed, finally her voice only just a touch more off than usual, but sympathy for Hagrid's situation was finally pushing past the shock. It was the same as always, she trusted Hagrid. If he said his brother hadn't meant to hurt anyone, then she'd just have to believe he wasn't going to turn on her son the moment he awoke.
Well, half-brother, he amended. His mum had another child when she'd left his dad, Grawp here.
"Grawp?" Harry repeated curiously.
"Never claimed giants had our kind of names," Sirius shrugged, his brow still set deep in thought, but now he was almost back to normal and could appreciate Hagrid's position at least.
Harry wasn't sure he'd heard that right, and Hagrid said that's what he thought was being said when asked for a name. He didn't know much English, though Hagrid had been teaching him. His mother had abandoned Grawp as well for being so small, so he was all alone, he was only sixteen feet.
"Poor Hagrid," Lily went new, her voice now coming out in a whisper as now she felt like Hagrid needed a hug, after she popped him over the head for giving her heart failure.
Hermione's voice was still in shrieking shock as she said how miniscule that was!
"Who knew Hermione turned sarcastic during these times," Sirius muttered, he couldn't get a joke to his mind yet.
Hagrid insisted he was being kicked around by the others.
Harry asked what Maxime had thought of this, and Hagrid said she'd realized how important this was to him, but got tired of fighting to get him back, so she'd just promised not to tell anyone.
"Good woman, that," James sighed, knowing he'd probably have done the exact same as Maxime, he wouldn't pretend he'd try to handle a giant, even a...small one.
Harry asked how he'd even gotten back here. Hagrid explained they could only travel by night and very out of the way, Grawp could cover quite a bit of distance when he wanted to, the problem was he didn't, kept wanting to go back.
Harry gave a pitiful sigh, he didn't need to ask. He'd been kicked around plenty in his youth but had always returned home because he'd always known he had nowhere else to go. Hagrid seemed to have a gift for taking wayward souls away.
Hermione buried her face in her fingers as she asked why Hagrid hadn't just let him, what was he going to do with a violent giant?
Hagrid defended violent was too strong, he took a swing now and again when he was in a mood, but he was getting better.
Harry asked what the ropes were for then?
"Well if he was wanting to go back, I suppose I can see Hagrid stopping him leaving when he wasn't around," Sirius frowned heavily.
As Harry's eyes had adjusted and made out more detail, he found ropes binding the giants ankles and around his waist.
Hagrid repeated he didn't know his own strength, and Harry now understood why there were no other creatures in the area.
"Oh yeah, I can see that," James finally nodded at something that made sense to him in his forest.
Hermione circled back to asking what Hagrid wanted them to do?
"Almost forgot about that," Remus shivered, he didn't like the idea of Harry around...Grawp with Hagrid around, now Hagrid was asking them to keep looking after a hateful giant after Hagrid was gone! How was this worse than the Skrewts?
Hagrid just said he needed looking after, while Harry and Hermione exchanged an uncomfortable look, well aware they'd already promised Hagrid they would.
"I feel as if at some point there's a line, and he crossed it," Lily said miserably, as she wouldn't feel right backing out of this either even with the circumstances. "A bruised rib to Hagrid could knock your skeleton right out of you! I'm sorry Harry, but I'm worried this one's above you!"
Harry certainly wasn't going to argue the point.
Harry did not argue the point, and they were just as relieved as they were upset for Hagrid Harry didn't seem gung ho to keep this particular promise.
Hermione asked for details, and Hagrid said nothing too big. He got his own food, birds or deer that traveled through,
James looked vaguely offended, even if he knew it to be true. It just wasn't helping his mind's eye as he kept imagining trying to run away from this thing.
Hagrid really just wanted them to come out here and talk to him, help teach him along in talking.
Harry said nothing as he kept eying Grawp, picking out details. Now he saw that his feet were the size of sleds and bare, his clothes seemed roughly stitched together. His head was like a boulder sitting right atop his shoulders with his ears sitting more on the area where his neck should be.
Remus couldn't deny a touch of fascination in him at Harry's description. He'd only heard general depictions of them as well, and though he still had no want to meet one in person, Harry's were always more vivid than usual texts.
Harry hollowly repeated Hagrid's want for them to teach him English. He now understood what Firenze's warning had meant.
"I almost wish I didn't," Sirius grumbled, in this case ignorance had been bliss.
He could just imagine the other creatures of this Forest hearing Hagrid's vain attempts to teach Grawp English.
Hagrid agreed cheerfully, even if they just came out here to chat with him, keep him around people.
Harry looked to Hermione and said it made him wish for Norbert back.
Sirius blanched for a moment, but after considering he told, "no, actually this is still marginally better. I'll take whatever form of intelligence this thing posses over that beast."
"Wow," Harry said towards him, as of now he'd still rather have it the other way.
Hagrid misunderstood, confirming that they'd do it?
"He really didn't get that was supposed to be a bad thing?" James muttered, that concept seemed lost on Hagrid quite a bit.
Harry uneasily said they'd try-
Hagrid beamed at him, saying he'd known he could count on him!
Even as Lily shook her head in exasperation for Hagrid, she was smiling just a bit as well now. She couldn't deny some part of her was happy for Hagrid finally having a bit of family back to him.
He insisted it wouldn't be much, just nip out here once a week, then he decided to introduce them.
Hermione said that wasn't necessary!
"Well yes it is," Remus corrected. "Much safer to be first seen with Hagrid, at least he knows him."
"And considers him his kidnapper," James reminded hollowly. "So I'm really torn here."
Harry still didn't want to say what was really on his mind, he didn't really have a want to see Grawp again with or without Hagrid.
Hagrid ignored them, picked up a long sturdy branch, and jabbed Grawp in the back with it.
"He just poked a giant!" James said faintly, unable to believe what he'd just said and stuck on that one for several moments before Harry gave him a commiserating pat on the shoulder that was probably supposed to be reassuring.
Grawp woke with an ear splitting roar that shook birds from trees. He got onto his knees to turn around and see who was here, and Hagrid greeted him as Grawpy, telling he'd brought company.
Harry and Hermione backpedaled as far as they could while keeping him in sight, as his face leaned in like a dull grey full moon.
All three Marauders blanched in shock at the description they weren't taking kindly too.
His features seemed misshapen, the nose of no real design, the hair looking more like moss even a dark brown, and his pupils were rather tiny and currently still cummed with sleep. He took to his feet with surprising agility and turned away.
"Don't ever underestimate speed for size," Remus agreed, James wanting to smack him for starting to sound more interested than resigned like the rest of them.
He went over to the nearest tree and plucked a birds nest up out of the higher branches, turning it upside down and pelting them with eggs like grenades below.
"I can see how riveted he was by the company," James said deadpan.
"Be pleased while it lasts," Lily grumbled, at least finding some small comfort Grawp hadn't at once started trying to take Hagrid's limb off.
Hagrid tried to keep his attention, yelling to Grawp about that trip he'd be going on, and these were his new friends who'd be coming to visit him.
"I thought he couldn't understand English quite yet," Sirius shifted uneasily.
"I can see why Hagrid does it though," Remus shrugged, "that's one of the ways you learn other languages, hearing them as well as practicing to speak them."
"Oh, so now it's a good idea," James frowned at him.
"I'm not saying Harry should do it," Remus defended, "I just understand why Hagrid is talking to him."
Grawp took no notice, Harry wasn't even sure if the giant recognized what Hagrid was doing was speech. He'd instead sized the nearest tree and began pulling on the top, the fascination on his face making it clear he did it for the simple pleasure of seeing how far he could go before it would spring back.
"Exactly how old is he?" Lily asked.
"Not sure," Harry muttered, "I only know what Hagrid said."
"He could be older than Hagrid, we don't know which kid came first, though I think Hagrid assumed it was himself." Remus shrugged.
"Either way, I don't see what that has to do with anything," Sirius muttered.
Lily considered this response more to do with the fact Sirius would probably try to do the same thing if he was that size no matter what age.
Hagrid tried to tell him not to, that's how he'd pulled up the last ones, but when the creaking roots could be heard, Hagrid intervened and gave him another jab with the stick.
Grawp looked down with an expression of clear annoyance as Hagrid waved to Harry and Hermione. Grawp only just seemed to realize their presence as he gazed down at them still half hidden behind a tree.
"How good is a giant's eye sight?" Harry asked wearily, he wasn't going to enjoy the experience of one checking out his hairline.
"As good as ours I'd imagine," Remus scratched at his ear. "Perhaps better, as they hunt more naturally than we do."
He introduced Harry first, and tried to do the same for Hermione, but realized her full name may be beyond him, so asked her if he could call her Hermy.
Hermione gave a squeaky agreement.
"I know I would have protested," Sirius sniffed. "If my name was the first four syllable word he'd said, it could be an accomplishment."
Hagrid introduced Hermy to Grawp,
"So does that mean we can start calling her-"
"No," Harry told Sirius flatly before he could even finish.
saying she was going to come out here as well and, Grawp no!
James nearly jumped from his chair in surprise, he hadn't intended to shout that so loud but he'd just been getting back to a place of normalcy in his mind as he adjusted to this situation, now Hagrid was scolding him!
Grawp's hand had shot out of nowhere and tried to seize Hermione, but Harry reacted a moment faster and pulled her back behind the tree as Grawps palm scraped against the bark but seized on air.
Lily gasped, watching Harry's arms tense at his side now like he was prepared to pull her away again.
Hagrid scolded he was being a bad boy, not to grab, while Hermione clung to Harry whimpering.
"Oh, he wouldn't have really hurt her!" Remus tried, and failed to say even as he'd gone a bit white in shock. "He might have just been trying to pick her up, out of curiosity-"
"And look how well that's worked out for Hagrid," Harry shuddered all over.
Then Hagrid let out his own yelp of pain, and Harry poked his head back out to see Grawp had swatted Hagrid away and gone back to his tree.
"Good to know of his attention span I suppose," James tried to say around a squeak, there was just no way he could find some fun in this one.
Hagrid stumped over to them holding his newly broken nose, saying that was enough for one day.
Some color finally started coming back to James' face, Lily was still rubbing at her chest, and the other three were still trying hard not to show they were shaking. A giant. This was a new level, even for Hagrid...
They began walking away, Harry and Hermione still struck dumb. Hagrid actually wanted them to come visit a giant in the Forbidden Forest and pointlessly teach him English?
"Now that's pushing it," Remus couldn't quite push into scolding as he was still shifting his weight in unease. "You heard Hagrid say he had full conversations with them, they can be spoken to as well as a Centaur if you give them half a chance, this one in particular just never seems to have been put into any type of situation like this."
Harry looked at him like he wasn't sure what to say to that. He'd put up with a lot of crazy things for Hagrid, and this one still felt like the worst.
Harry had never understood Hagrid's insistence the most killing things were lovable and harmless, but this was a new one fooling himself Grawp could mix with humans.
"That one is stretching it just a touch," Sirius agreed. "He'd be just fine spending his days in a far off proximity, but not unapproachable, if Hagrid shows we're not all bad." He couldn't quite put the right tone into place, he still wanted to rage at Hagrid for putting a giant into the Forbidden Forest! If the name hadn't been appropriate before, it was now!
Then Hagrid took them both by surprise by drawing his crossbow and fitting an arrow in.
"There's a giant in the forest," Lily enunciated clearly like they already would have forgotten. "I can't imagine something much scarier, and Hagrid hadn't pulled a weapon on him."
Even still, James was back to bouncing his leg with unease. He knew plenty of things Harry could expect in there, and it was good for Hagrid to be on guard, they seemed far enough away from Grawp this was necessary.
They waited in tense silence until a male voice told Hagrid he was no longer welcome here.
"Can the Centaurs do that?" James protested in further outrage, that was somehow even more offensive to him than the giant.
"By our laws, no," Remus said carefully. "The Forest is property of the school, so it's technically Hogwarts land...but the Centaurs may well recognize no such thing. It's rather a conflict that's never had to be brought up in our history, for we've never fought over the space."
"That Forest has been there since Hufflepuff sanctioned it back when the castle was being built," Sirius offered to Harry.
"The stories are unclear though, if the Centaurs were already in the area, or if the Hogwarts Founders created it and they claimed it," James sighed.
Lily was honestly impressed at their history lesson, and so apparently was Harry as he tried to keep focus on this and told them how interesting that was even as he kept looking worriedly at nothing. He didn't like this set up, Grawp not too far off, angry centaurs...
A whole group of centaurs had arrived, including one Harry recognized as Bane. Hagrid wearily greeted the foremost, Magorian, who gave no friendly greeting back, repeating Hagrid was no longer welcome here after he'd helped the traitor Firenze enter servitude.
Hagrid protested this, saying he was doing a favor for Dumbledore!
"There is no point arguing this," James said tensely. Even having Hagrid describe the fight before had made him uneasy, now Harry may well find himself in the middle of it.
"Hagrid won't really start something," Lily tried to say with conviction, "he'll get them out of there, he's been dealing with this for a while now at least."
The centaur said there was no coming back from such disgrace, and Hagrid had lost the friendship of the centaurs by helping him, he was no longer welcome in their forest.
Hagrid shot back he wasn't going to be hearing any of this 'their'. It wasn't their say who came and went here.
Magorian cut in no more than Hagrid's. He'd let him pass today because he was with his young,
"His young," James couldn't help but mutter that a second time, though they'd all long since noticed Hagrid seemed to have as unofficially adopted the kids as much as Molly had.
Bane interrupted they were not his, but students, profiting from the teachings of the traitor Firenze!
"I would not call his vague life's a mystery speech profiting," Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Not helping," Remus hissed at him.
Magorian did not waver, they did not hurt the innocent. Hagrid may pass today, but this was his final warning.
Hagrid shouted he wasn't going to let these mules tell him where he could and couldn't go.
They all began itching terribly in fear of this fight. It was probably easier not being there, but they could see both sides in light, and didn't care about either! They just wanted Harry to get out of there!
The centaurs turned to leave anyways, but Hagrid kept shouting after them he wasn't going to let them scare him off. Harry and Hermione put their hands on Hagrid's back to try and force him to move along, but then he glanced down in surprise like he hadn't even felt it.
"Bloody hell," James blinked in surprise. Not that they'd ever tried, but they'd have liked to think Hagrid would have at least registered the two!
He told them to calm down, they wouldn't really do anything, then he took off again as if nothing had happened.
Hermione uneasily kept pace, trying to say to Hagrid that if the centaurs weren't letting people come through, than the three of them wouldn't be much help to Grawp.
Hagrid brushed this off, repeating their own words they wouldn't hurt the innocent. Besides, they shouldn't let those centaurs push them around.
"I see where he's coming from," Sirius said genuinely, he knew he'd have a few things to say if a centaur had ever told them off for being caught in there.
"But while I admire Hagrid for not letting them push him around," James grudgingly agreed, "it wouldn't kill him not to insult them while he's at it!"
"A little avoidance can go a long way," Remus agreed, knowing Hagrid knew this place well enough he should be able to pass by Centaur heavy areas just like they could.
Harry watched all of them with a small smile of pride in place. As if he'd needed further evidence they weren't still fifteen, but here they were actually speaking of avoiding a real life fight.
Harry told Hermione nice try at her disappointment this hadn't made a dent in Hagrid.
They rejoined the daylight to see people pouring out of the stadium laughing and cheering,
James spluttered in surprise, he'd actually forgotten a game was going on!
"Well, I found something to cheer me up next time Ron's goal keeping is mentioned," Sirius groaned. "Teaching ABC's to a giant!"
and Hagrid told them to hurry along into that so they wouldn't be missed, then he went to his cabin. Harry and Hermione trudged back looking distinctly out of place with their numerous tiny cuts and twigs in their hair, but Hermione took no notice of this as she said she couldn't believe him!
"Oh I do," Lily sighed. In Hagrid's...inflated world, she really did see where he was coming from, but did he have to drag Harry into this one?
Harry tried to get her to calm down, but she wouldn't hear it. A giant in the Forest! He wanted them to teach English to it, assuming they could get past the murderous centaurs!
"I think the centaurs scare me more than the giant!" Remus shivered harder than ever to prove his point.
"That didn't make me feel better," Harry told him, a still rather distracted look in place as he had no clue why he agreed with him.
Harry tried to say they didn't have to do anything yet, and Umbridge might not-
Hermione cut him off to say of course she'd get rid of him, and after this who could blame her!
"I can!" They yelped in protest. It was very clear Harry wasn't the only one losing his temper this year if Hermione was going to be saying nonsense like that!
There was a pause in which Harry glared at her, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.
"At least she regretted it," James sighed, letting go of his anger the moment he read that. Hermione did care, she was just scared, they all were at this news.
She admitted she didn't mean that, but the rest of her words were cut off by singing.
Insert Gryffindor version of Weasley is Our King.
James paused with his head cocked to the side in confusion, his wild hair looking more flyaway than ever as he shook it and told them he hadn't read that wrong. Hardly daring to pretend to understand the mix up, he kept going in a slow, forced calm voice.
Hermione began miserably she wished they'd stop gloating, it was already bad enough, but then Harry whispered it wasn't the Slytherin's singing as the edited lyrics continued.
"No, way," Sirius whispered, his eyes now locked on James with nothing else going through his ears.
"They, used the lyrics," Remus spluttered, a grin spreading across his mouth more from surprise than actual pleasure hitting him yet.
James ignored them both, Lily and Harry were still sitting there with their mouths open in shock as he practically shouted the rest.
Hermione whispered no in surprise, Harry shouted yes in excitement, and Ron caught sight of both of them atop many people's shoulders and shouted about their win!
Lily squealed in triumph, clapping and bouncing in place as they all began laughing and cheering loudly. The damn broke, James hardly wanted to finish he was dancing around in so much excitement, but he also couldn't have stopped yelling the words in triumph no matter how hard he tried!
They beamed up at him as he passed. There was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel,
Sirius laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his seat and banged his own head on the table, and no one stopped to notice that either in their fusing excitement. They didn't have to keep worrying about Grawp right now, this was something so immensely good instead!
They waited until the large cheering crowd had stormed past before turning back to each other, their smiles fading a bit.
Harry said they'd tell him tomorrow.
"You are the best friend ever," Remus assured Harry, or at least tried to over the din. No one would want to be the one to tell all this to Ron in such a glorious moment.
Hermione agreed as they headed up to the party, but both stopped at the door and looked back, wondering if it was their imagination a bunch of birds shooting into the sky far off into the Forest, as if something had just tried to pull up their tree by its roots.
James hardly paid this any mind, the giant wasn't actually hurting anything in the forest yet, but this was wonderful!
"I can't believe you missed that!" Sirius shouted right in Harry's ear, and he hardly even noticed. "You, you actually missed the Quidditch Cup, and they won!"
"I'm sorry, okay," Harry raised his hands in defence even as he couldn't straighten up in his seat from his shoulders shaking too hard. "I know Ron'll make sure I hear every last thing!"
James suddenly didn't want to give the book up to Sirius. This was fantastic! So many bad things had happened this year, but he was actually hoping this was a pattern that was going to keep going, and with his luck Sirius was probably going to get to read about something happening to Umbridge finally. Surely Grawp was the worst thing to happen to Harry the rest of the year.
HPHPHPHP
  *This is one of those spells I genuinely question, why? If you just want to transfigure the cup, then you're in the wrong class. If the goal is for the cup to sprout legs to bring you, like a sugar bowl or something, levitate it to you. This...is just so entirely random to be an actual spell being practiced in class!
3 notes · View notes
masterweaverx · 3 years
Text
I’m back on this, and this time we’ve got everybody’s favorite villain, Cinder Fall! The Fire Witch with the Best Twitch, the powerhungry primmadonna, the Misshapen Maiden, we’re going to set her up on dungeoning and dragoning in the best way we can work!
And boy howdy is this going to be a mess. Cinder may mainly use fire, but she uses it in so many different ways and, honestly, that’s true of everything she does. Lots of weapons and lots of magic, and surprisingly skilled at craftsmanship. Also, she’s very hard to kill, which isn’t something most casters get a lot. Basically, Cinder has to be very flexible in so many different fields.
If we look at the point array I’d say we’d be putting a fifteen in Charisma--she’s been on GLOBAL TELEVISION and looks pretty good even after getting a demon grafted to her arm. Dexterity would get fourteen, because she’s a roofhopping arrow-shooting glamour gal, and Wisdom thirteen because she’s just cunning enough to keep almost winning. Constitution is important for being hardy and keeping concentration, so that would be twelve. She’s only got an average strength at ten points, but she uses it well, and eight points in intelligence makes it her dump stat--there’s a very spoilery reason she’s not that good at book learning.
Variant humans get variant points! Two ability points to put anywhere--bump up that wisdom and charisma just a touch--a free skill and a free feat. Athletics would be the skill of choice, she’s very mobile, and for the Feat we’re going to take Magic Initiate and pluck a few spells off the Warlock list--Chill Touch, Eldritch Blast, and Expeditious Retreat. A lot of the spells we’ll want are actually not on the Warlock list, so even though Salem’s pretty clearly her patron we’ll just say it’s not quite like that.
I looked through the Backgrounds and Dragon Casualty from the Adventurer’s League: Curse of Strahd actually has a lot in common with Cinder’s actual history. The Dragonscarred feature comes complete with a reputation and a visible disfigurement, meaning the Up and Ups recognize Cinder, something she can use. She gets proficiency in Intimidation, Survival, and Weaver’s tools, and also she can speak Draconic. Does anybody on Remnant speak draconic? I don’t know, but Cinder’s polylingual!
Cinder gets six levels in Phoenix Sorcerer, six as an Arcane Archer Fighter, and eight in Forge Cleric. Since she’s starting with Sorcerer she’ll get proficiency in Charisma and Constitution saves, as well as Persuasion and Deception. Multiclassing into Fighter gives her proficiencies in all simple and martial weapons, light armor, medium armor, and shields. She also gets a total of five Ability Score Improvements--burning one for the Eldritch Adept feat gives her the Grasp of Hadar, for some stretchy hand action with her Eldritch Blast, and leaves eight points for her stats. Four in Charisma maxes that out, then putting two each in Dexterity and Wisdom sets those both to sixteen.
All Sorcerers get sorcery points equal to their Sorcerer level, which they can use for Flexible Casting--creating extra spell slots at a given cost. Flexible casting also allows Sorcerers to burn unused spell slots for Sorcery points, which is useful when you want to pull out that last bit of magic but you need a spell slot on the fly. And of course there’s Metamagic, which lets you spend sorcery points to alter spells in specific ways--I think Cinder would pick up Elemental Spell for those rare occasions where she wants something other than fire, and Distant Spell for enemies that have a bad habit of running away.
Phoenix Sorcerers can Ignite things as an action, free of charge, just by touching it. They also have a Mantle of Flame they can activate as a bonus action, spending one minute being EXTRA HOT. And of course there’s the sixth-level Phoenix Spark--if Cinder hits zero HP, she can use a reaction to go to 1 HP and everybody within ten feet takes eight fire damage, or sixteen if her Mantle of Flame was up. Both the Mantle and the Spark can only be used once per long rest, but Cinder knows how to get out when things get bad so...
With six levels of Fighter, Cinder would have a Second Wind, letting her regain 1d10+6 HP as a bonus action once per rest. Action Surge lets her take another Action on her turn once per rest, and Extra Attack means she can make two attacks with any attack action. I think she’d also pick up the Two-Weapon Fighting Style, letting her use her ability bonus with a second weapon. As for Arcane Archer, that gives her the Prestidigitation cantrip and two Arcane Shots per rest; she can either use a Bursting Arrow which is just an extra 2d6 force damage to everyone in ten feet of the shot, or an Enfeebling Arrow, which does 2d6 necrotic damage to the target and halves their weapon damage on a failed Con save. Go for that Achilles Heel, Cinder, I’m sure that won’t backfire!
And then... eight levels in Forge Cleric. Truth be told, I mostly picked that for the automatic spells from the Forge domain, which basically cover Cinder’s Semblance and the way she combines them with her magic. But she does get some benefits; she can Channel Divinity twice per rest, either Turning Undead--getting them to run if they’re higher than CR 1 or outright destroying them otherwise--or using Artisan’s Blessing to create items.
And being a Forge Cleric specifically gives Cinder proficiency with Smith’s Tools and Heavy Armor, as well as the ability to give +1 to armor or a weapon once per long rest. She also gets resistance to fire damage and +1 AC wearing heavy armor from having a Soul of the Forge. And of course there’s the Eighth level Divine Strike, letting her add 1d8 fire damage to one attack per turn. She’s a pretty firey gal.
Going over Cinder’s spell list is a doozy. Firstly, she’s a 14th level caster, which means she has 4 level one slots, 3 slots each for level two, three, and four spells, 2 level five slots, and a slot apiece for level six and seven. But she can only pick up Cleric spells up to level four and Sorcerer spells up to level three. She’s already got three cantrips from her Magic Initiate and Arcane Archer sources, and she’s going to get four more from the Cleric list and five more from the Sorceror list--and as for spells, level six Sorcerers know seven that they can always cast, and Clerics can prepare a number of spells equal to their level plus their Wisdom modifier--so eleven in Cinder’s case. And the Forge spells are considered always prepared, and don’t count against the Cleric spell max.
That’s a WHOLE lot of magic in one girl. Let’s spell (ha) it out!
-Cantrips: --Chill Touch (Magic Initiate Warlock) --Control Flames (Sorcerer) --Eldritch Blast (Magic Initiate Warlock) --Firebolt (Sorcerer) --Frostbite (Sorcerer) --Mending (Cleric) --Prestidigitation (Arcane Archer) --Ray of Frost (Sorcerer) --Shape Water (Sorcerer) --Sacred Flame (Cleric) --Thaumaturgy (Cleric) --Word of Radiance (Cleric) L1: 4 slots --Burning Hands (Sorcerer) --Command (Cleric) --Create or Destroy Water (Cleric) --Expeditious Retreat (Magic Initiate Warlock) (Concentration) --Guiding Bolt (Cleric) --Identify (Forge Cleric) --Searing Smite (Forge Cleric) (Concentration) L2: 3 slots --Aganazzer's Scorcher (Sorcerer) --Aid (Cleric) --Dragon's Breath (Sorcerer) (Concentration) --Enhance Ability (Cleric) (Concentration) --Heat Metal (Forge Cleric) (Concentration) --Magic Weapon (Forge Cleric) (Concentration) --Scorching Ray (Sorcerer) --Spiritual Weapon (Cleric) L3: 3 slots --Bestow Curse (Cleric) (Concentration) --Elemental Weapon (Forge Cleric) (Concentration) --Fireball (Sorcerer) --Flame Arrows (Sorcerer) (Concentration) --Fly (Sorcerer) (Concentration) --Inflict Wounds (Cleric) --Protection from Energy (Forge Cleric) (Concentration) --Revivify (Cleric) L4: 3 slots --Death Ward (Cleric) --Divination (Cleric) --Fabricate (Forge Cleric) --Wall Of Fire (Forge Cleric) (Concentration) L5: 2 slots L6: 1 slot L7: 1 slot
Remember, as a Sorcerer Cinder can melt unused spell slots for sorcery points, and any caster can upcast a spell using a slot above its usual level. And with the metamagic that Cinder has, that makes all these spells just that much more dangerous. Throwing in some reach and necrotic for that demon on her arm and, well, there’s a reason Cinder Fall is the queen of Salem’s forces.
So yeah, that’s Cinder.
10 notes · View notes
bush-viper-cutie · 4 years
Text
“The Cloaked Fools” || YEAR 3 – Ch.26 (HP au)
                              Chapter List
<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->
Day posted: 10/9/2020
Word count: 3, 058
Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)
Rating: E for everyone
Warnings: none
-----
A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.
This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D
-----
~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~
“I’ve never been happier!” Ron exclaimed as he zoomed all over the field on the firebolt.
Heather and Harry were sitting on the grass watching Ron finally smile after a week of obvious misery. Harry was still in his Quidditch uniform and smelled of practice.
“ – And apparently Cho Chang’s their seeker – a fourth year – but Wood’s worry about her vanished the second I got up off the ground. I mean, you saw how fast I caught the Snitch! Took me like ten seconds to get from the goal post to the other side of the field!”
“Woooooh!” Ron zoomed passed them overhead.
Heather nodded. She was very happy for Harry, and was glad he’d surely win his game against Ravenclaw within a few minutes… But from what she’d seen from practice, even Slytherins should be terrified of playing against Harry. Draco’s Nimbus two-thousand-and-one was a joke next to the firebolt. If Gryffindor won against Ravenclaw, they’d be second place behind Slytherin. She couldn’t imagine losing the House Cup AND the Quidditch Cup this year. Slytherin always won the Quidditch Cup… this’d be their eighth year in a row.
“That’s great, Harry,” she said, trying to sound genuinely pleased for him.
Madam Hooch stirred in her seat and woke with a start. She had fallen asleep watching Harry’s game and was coming over with hands on her hips. She told them off for not waking her up and in the darkness they walked back towards the castle. Harry let Ron hold the broom a bit longer as they went.
“Why don’t you put it in the broom shed?” Heather ducked as Ron turned towards to her with the broom on his shoulders.
“Are you mad? Everyone with a broom has access to the shed! It’d be easy sabotage!”
“Wait!” Harry lifted a hand to stop them going any further up the stairs and pointed down at a nearby tree.
Two eyes blinked up at them from the darkness. Ron took out his wand and illuminated the area. The border of light reached the tree and Crookshanks waved his tail high at them.
“Get away! Go on! Get!” Ron yelled.
Crookshanks turned swiftly and sunk back into the darkness.
“Can’t believe she’s still letting him roam around anywhere! What if he eats someone else’s pet!” Ron scoffed and turned off his wand light.
They entered the castle just as night officially set.
“I think she doesn’t even know where he is.” Heather looked at Harry and saw he was still frowning. She knew he’d probably thought those were the eyes of the grim. She wanted to roll her eyes at him… but she remembered his last match. The way the clouds had looked like a large angry black dog right before he’d fallen fifty feet from the air... Heather dropped them off at the tower, giving Harry a big hug. “Rest well, alright?”
Harry nodded. “Don’t tell the Slytherins yet that I’ve got my broom back. I want to see their faces tomorrow morning.”
Heather nodded and skipped down the stairs. When she reached the main corridor on the ground floor, for a second, she felt the need to look both ways into the creeping darkness, like she’d find the grim’s shadow waiting for her, warning her that Harry would be in danger tomorrow; but there was nothing. She skipped down the corridor and down the dungeon stairs with ease. As promised she didn’t tell Marcus or Draco anything and went straight to sleep.
The next morning, she sat at the Gryffindor table with Wood, waiting for Harry and Ron to make their big entrance. Heads turned and students gasped as Harry entered holding up the firebolt, making sure not to knock it on anything. Heather glanced over at the Slytherins and saw Marcus’ look of fury and Draco’s look of disgust. Her arms hurt instantly at the thought of Marcus doubling their practices after this.
“Look at that!” Wood helped Harry set the broom in the center of the table, pushing plates of food away and turning the handle so it showed ‘firebolt’ at the top in golden letters.
Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were coming over, gasping and aweing at it. Penelope Clearwater asked Harry if she could hold it but Wood swatted her hand away.
“No chance at sabotage, lovely.” Percy held her hand. “We have a bet going on,” he informed them.
“Though I think he knew his chances better than I did when we made it.” Penelope scowled and walked away.
Percy leaned into Harry. “I don’t have ten Galleons so… win this one, alright?” He turned and walked over to the Ravenclaw table, joining his girlfriend in some toast.
“Look at Malfoy,” Ron whispered, drawing attention to Draco’s widened eyes and pressed lips. “This is brilliant!”
“Congratulations on the broom, Harry.” Cedric Diggory smacked his shoulder. “If we’d gotten a rematch I’d be worried.”
Harry smiled and nodded as he left back to his table. “Everyone’s so impressed…”
“And scared, as they should be.” Wood didn’t take his eyes off the broom. “Harry’s you’ve got your dementor problem figured out have you?”
Fred and George laughed. “They’re not coming back onto the grounds.” Fred jabbed a thumb up at the High Table. “Dumbledore’d freak.”
Heather followed his thumb up at a merry looking Professor Dumbledore enjoying his eggs. He looked so different from when he’d gotten furious at the dark-hooded creatures that had entered and made Harry fall. He’d looked even madder than Professor Snape did now, scowling down at his food next to Professor Lupin who chattered away with Professor McGonagall.
“You sure you can handle that broom, Potter?” came Draco’s cold, sharp voice, slicing through the Gryffindor’s enjoyment.
Harry rolled his eyes and turned. “Yeah, I reckon so,” he said casually, almost smiling as Draco’s face turned back to disgust.
“Heard it’s got all sort of new features. Think catching you when you get too near a dementor’s one of them?” Draco smiled maliciously.
Crabe and Goyle snickered behind him.
Heather’s hands slowly reached her face, ready to cover her eyes at what she knew was coming.
“Shame you can’t attach an extra arm to yours. Then it could catch the Snitch for you.” Harry said, turned back to the team as they burst out laughing.
Heather watched through her fingers as Draco almost smacked him where he sat. He gritted his teeth and stalked away, Crabbe and Goyle at his heels. He sat back with the Slytherins and her team put their heads together. She’d likely get a talking to from Marcus again, as if she could do anything about Harry having the firebolt back.
The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw team set out for the locker rooms and Heather stayed behind with Ron as the chatter of the room reached peak excitement.
“Where’s Hermione?” Heather looked around.
Ron shrugged avoidantly. “Was doing homework at one of the desks when we left. Who cares if she wants to miss the greatest Quidditch match of the decade. Well – ” he looked at Heather, “second to the Gryffindor, Slytherin one after this.”
She rolled her eyes. Technically it would be Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff afterwards if Ravenclaw lost – or should she say ‘when’ they lost, but she refrained from correcting him, getting the point. After several more minutes, the whole school was getting up to make their ways to the stadium.
Ron and Heather ran to find seats, excited to see Harry in action.
“We’ll be sitting for two minutes max,” Ron said, gripping the railing in front of them. “I know it.”
Harry made his way onto the field with his team, and the Ravenclaws walking out at the same time looked unusually nervous. Heather easily spotted the Ravenclaw Seeker that Harry had talked about. She was shortest of both teams… and also the only girl on the team. Heather knew what that felt like.
“They waved at each other,” Heather told Ron.
“Who?”
He was distracted looking at the score as if it’d change in a blink in the presence of the firebolt. If Hermione was here she’d be raising her brows. Harry hadn’t yet talked of any girl to Heather, but she thought that was about to change. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Was this the moment they’d start talking to each other about crushes? If he started liking this Cho Chang, would she be doomed to crush on someone too? Would he even tell her? Were crushes something twins talked about?
At the whistle the teams kicked off and Heather’s thoughts were erased when Harry zoomed around, showing off how fast he was. The crowd lost it, cheering and screaming and whistling. Gryffindors were yelling for Ravenclaws to forfeit on the spot and Professor McGonagall had to come down from the announcer desk to tell them to calm down.
Lee Jordan wasn’t doing any better than them. “LOOK AT THAT FIREBOLT EVERYONE. RAVENCLAW MUST BE QUAKING ON THEIR BROOMS. IT’S ONLY BEEN OUT HALF A YEAR AND IT’S ALREADY THE BROOM OF CHOICE FOR THE NATIONAL TEAMS AT THIS YEAR’S WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP – ”
“ – FOCUS ON THE GAME, PLEASE, MR. JORDAN,” Professor McGonagall interrupted as she reached the announcer desk again.
“JUST ADDING SOME BACKGROUND INFORMATION FOR THE ANTICIPATION – ”
“THERE’S NO NEED FOR THAT.”
“ALRIGHT… GRYFFINDOR IN POSSESSION WITH KATIE BELL HEADING STRAIGHT FOR THE GOAL…”
The Gryffindors were laughing at Lee and Professor McGonagall’s exchange. Harry was streaking around the air with Cho not far behind. She seemed to be a good flyer. She hadn’t noticed how good she was when Slytherins were playing Ravenclaw, but she must have given Draco a good scare. Harry sped up suddenly and Cho got left behind as hard as she tried to stay on his trail. Harry really was no match for any Seeker at this point.
There was a golden dot on the edge of her vision and Harry saw it too. The Snitch was near the ground, close to the stadiums, and Harry was rushing for it. The Ravenclaw Beater hit a Bludger several feet in front of Harry to make up for his speed and narrowly missed Harry’s head by an inch, making him veer off course. The Snitch was gone and Heather was horrified at the advanced thinking the Ravenclaw must have gone through to time the Bludger near perfectly.
“Boooooooh!” the Gryffindors yelled at the Ravenclaw Beater. The Ravenclaws cheered for him, however, asking him to do it again.
George hit a Bludger at him in frustration, making the Ravenclaw Beater roll in midair. Heather wished she was on her broom, playing with them. She loved doing midair rolls; they were her signature move.
“GRYFFINDOR LEADS BY EIGHTY POINTS TO NONE – AND LOOK AT THAT MAGNIFICENT FIREBOLT. CHANG’S COMMET JUST CAN’T COMPETE – LOOK AT THAT PRECISION-BALANCE DURING POTTER’S LONG – ”
“THE GAME JORDAN!”
“ – THREE GOALS FOR RAVENCLAW BRINGING GRYFFINDOR’S LEAD DOWN TO FIFTY!”
Harry was flying by towards the Gryffindor goalposts where the Snitch fluttered. Cho sprang up out of nowhere, halting Harry’s movement.
“Don’t be a gentleman! Knock her off her broom!” Wood yelled at him from the goalposts.
Harry started again and was gaining on Cho in an instant, until she exclaimed and pointed down. Heather leaned over the railing at what Cho had pointed to and saw three cloaked creatures entering the field, looking up at them as they approached.
Harry extended his arm, yelling “Expecto Patronum!” and from the tip of his wand, a silvery-white orb shot out, knocking the three dementors to the ground. Heather blinked, stunned, and the crowd was cheering.
“POTTER’S CAUGHT THE SNITCH.”
In the time it took for the dementors to hit the ground, Harry had gotten to the Snitch before Cho and was holding it up for all to see. The end-of-game whistle blew and the Gryffindor team was barreling towards Harry, hugging him on their brooms, unable to wait until they could all touch down.
“Did you see that!” Ron was pulling her down the stadium benches and down the stairs. “Did you see!”
“Of course I saw! I was right next to you.” Though Heather had to admit several of her blinks got in the way of seeing Harry’s actions.
They ran onto the field followed by a crowd of Gryffindors and joined the Gryffindor team in cheering for Harry. Fred and George were lifting him up as best they could as they jumped up and down, not being too careful about not dropping him.
“That’s ten galleons for me! Thanks Harry!” Percy yelled over the cheers. “Excuse me – excuse me – Penelope!” He pushed his way out of the crowd.
“Ruddy brilliant, Harry!” Hagrid boomed from the back, being tall enough to spot him at the center of the crowd.
Fred and George set Harry down and Professor Lupin placed his hand on his shoulder.
“That was quite the patronus.” Professor Lupin looked a bit startled.
Heather felt a pang of jealousy. If she’d continued practicing with them, would she have one like Harry? Or would she have still not been able to produce even a silver wisp of one.
“They didn’t even affect me! I felt nothing from them!” Harry finally let go of the Snitch.
“That’s – er… because they weren’t dementors.” Professor Lupin looked back in the direction of them.
The crowd started to disperse and as Heather, Ron, and Harry approached the ‘dementors’, they stood, ripping off their cloaks and revealing themselves to be Crabbe, Goyle, Draco, and Marcus. It was like an episode of one of Dudley’s favorite mystery cartoons. How hilariously embarrassing, however, Heather couldn’t partake in Harry and Ron’s laughter.
“Gave them quite a scare.” Professor Lupin was on the verge of laughing too.
Professor McGonagall was marching towards the four of them with hands on her hips and Heather imagined Marcus was about to get a nasty detention that’d take up all their practice times. It was too much for Professor Lupin and so he left them, holding a hand to his mouth to hide his smile. Ron was on his knees, pounding the ground with laughter and pointing at Draco who glared at them with as much fury as he could muster.
“Harry!” George called out. “Party in the Gryffindor common room!”
Harry looked over at Heather sheepishly and she sighed. “Oh, go. I think I have to help them out with this anyways.”
“I don’t see why.” Ron wiped a tear away. “Actually, see if they can get double detention!”
“Come on.” Harry pulled Ron away and they left together.
Heather made her way over to Marcus and Draco as Professor Dumbledore approached as well, stopping next to a still furious Professor McGonagall.
“Trying to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Fifty points from Slytherin! Unbelievable! I’ll be telling Professor Snape about this!”
Professor Dumbledore chuckled. “No need, he’s making his way down now.”
Heather looked over and saw Professor Snape walking very slowly down the stadium steps, no doubt incredibly annoyed.  She shook her head. “I can’t believe you guys thought this was a good idea.”
“You saw how fast he was going!” Draco hissed.
“But now you’ve lost us fifty points!” Heather huffed. “What if we’re tied now!”
“We’re not,” Marcus growled.
“Not yet,” Professor McGonagall said, dangerously calm.
“Well.” Professor Snape stopped at the foot of the cloaks dumped on the ground. “Shall we discuss this in my office?”
“So you can get them off with a slap on their wrist?” Professor McGonagall raised her brows.
“No,” Professor Snape spoke slowly. “But I won’t allow you to conveniently give them detentions during every last one of their scheduled practices.”
“Afraid you’ll finally lose this year?” She smiled.
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Perhaps you two should reach an agreement first. For now,” he turned to them, “You will stay in your common room until you are given your detention slips.”
Marcus, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle nodded. Heather followed them out, walking next to Draco who kicked at every rock. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape bickered behind them, though Professor Snape seemed to enjoy Professor McGonagall’s anger.
“Did you even see what Cho was doing? She was countering Harry really well.” Heather shook Draco’s arm to snap him back to reality from whatever pit he had fallen into in his mind.
“No. I know how she plays. I caught the Snitch too remember? She was easy to beat.” He kicked another rock as they reached the stairs.
“But she played differently, didn’t she? Cutting Harry off.” She was growing more and more afraid as she realized Draco hadn’t bothered to learn anything from seeing Harry fly. Maybe she’d do better as Seeker, seeing as how she was always helping him improve.
They’d reached the common room door and Professor Snape followed them in. A horrible sign.
“You four,” he looked at them each except for Heather. He stepped closer, making them shrink. “Why don’t we have a chat in Draco’s dorm. Shall we?”
They gulped and headed into the boy’s dormitory. There was a slam of a door deeper inside and the muffled yells of Professor Snape telling them off. Heather sat at a chair, chin resting on the top of the back rest, knees tucked into the cushion, and waited for the doors to open once more.
The yelling ended, the boy’s dormitory door flung open, and suddenly there was a flurry of black robes cutting through the air as Professor Snape strode across the room using the full extent of his long legs to exit as fast as possible, his hair blowing back in the wind.
The common room door closed and Draco, Marcus, Crabbe and Goyle stepped out. Draco came to stand by her.
“I hate your brother,” he said, crossing his arms. “If we get too much detention, you’ll have to go out with me to show me what you saw that Ravenclaw Seeker do.”
Heather raised her brows. “Me?”
“Well he’s your brother isn’t he? It’s a Potter’s fault, so a Potter will fix this.”
Last time she checked Draco wasn’t a Potter and it was his own fault he was in this mess. Though, the idea was ridiculous enough to have been Marcus’ to begin with. Still. Someone who follows a fool must be a fool themselves, or very nearly one.
~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~
                          Chapter List
<-- Last chapter                       Next chapter -->
-----
@lokilover-39
@halcyonrogers
@krazykatkay456
@lady-of-black-roses
@writingmi
-----
14 notes · View notes
idiotpotters · 4 years
Text
Cedar Wood and Galleons
Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 2.8k+
Summary: “Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out. I know what you're doing, trying to get me to pursue you.” - Crush Culture, Conan Gray
Warnings: Angst
Author’s Note- This is for @hufflefluff-writer ‘s writing challenge from a g e s ago! I completely forgot I had this in my drafts so now I’m finally posting it. This is the first writing I’m posting on this blog so I hope y’all like it. I know the amortentia story line is way overused in this fandom, but let me have my fun. Let me know what you think! And thanks so much to Amelia for putting this together!
-
Harry’s temples were shining with sweat. His sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, red and gold striped tie loosened. He leaned over his potion, stirring carefully as purplish steam swirled from its pearlescent surface. The fumes of treacle tart, and the polished ebony and hazel of his Firebolt filled his nose. He tried to ignore it, but the third fragrance dug its heels into his senses the strongest, cedar wood hair gel and the familiar metallic scent of galleons.
Harry rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, as though it would banish the smell. Nothing seemed to help, it was filling him up, stinging his nostrils, hot and steaming down his throat. He pushed away the desire to breathe in ever so slowly and deeply so that it filled him up, and the craving to do it again. To lean down so the tip of his nose nearly touched the shining surface of the potion and breathe it in, to savor the feeling of it inflating his body, pushing into his head and making him dizzy.
Instead, he leaned back and raised his hand, catching Slughorn’s eye. As the professor made his way to Harry’s cauldron, he made an effort not to turn his eyes toward Malfoy. He didn’t even notice Hermione’s furtive glance of jealousy at him for finishing first, a tiny voice in his head was begging him to turn and stare. To watch as Draco leaned over his own potion, wonder if he smelled woody broomstick handles and smoking fireplaces.
He shook himself free of the thought and met Slughorn’s cheerful eyes.
“Beautiful execution of the amortentia potion, Mr. Potter.” The professor applauded, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Ten points to Gryffindor. Pour a vial and place it on my desk, then go ahead and clean up your cauldron.”
Harry sighed with relief, eager to get the scent out of his head. He ladled his potion into a glass vial and corked it. He then wound through students and cauldrons to leave it at Professor Slughorn’s desk, along with a slip of parchment that had his name written sloppily across it.
When he turned to come back to his cauldron however, his eyes caught Malfoy’s, who was leaning ever so casually against the table where Harry potion sat, still waiting to be cleaned. His heart jumped up to his throat, fingers tingling with nerves as he bit down on the inside of his cheek. Strands of Malfoy’s hair fell into his eyes as he met Harry’s gaze unwaveringly. Harry expected to see a familiar smirk pulling at Malfoy’s thin lips, but his face was locked in an expression Harry couldn’t identify. He would’ve said it was indifference, but Malfoy’s eyes looked so determined, focused, even conflicted.
Harry walked quickly to his desk, forcing himself into a resentful frown.
“What are you doing here?” He ordered more than asked, avoiding Malfoy’s eyes as he carefully gathered leftover rose petals. A bubbly, excited feeling was crawling up his center, threatening to boil over and fill his chest, soak him with giddiness at the sight of the pale, pointed face ahead of him. He pushed aside, the dread that it was even there was enough to bring its raging boil to a feeble simmer.
“What do you smell, Potter?” Malfoy drawled under his breath next to Harry, who could feel him standing close, too close. Harry tensed as he felt Malfoy’s long, pale fingers graze his forearm.
“None of your business, Malfoy.” He snapped, daring to turn and look at Draco after he deposited his petals into a jar. Harry could no longer tell if the scent of hair gel and coins was coming from his cauldron or from the boy in front of him.“Get out of my face.” He said through gritted teeth, having to turn his eyes slightly upward to meet Draco’s gaze.
“Harry,” Hermione’s voice sounded from next to him, her tone filled with warning, as it so often was. Harry ignored her, unwilling to back down.
Malfoy only stared down his pointed nose at Harry, as though waiting for him to say something else. Harry’s heart was racing in his chest, pounding against his ribs. It would be so easy to hold Draco’s face in his hands and pull him into a kiss, harsh and passionate, feel Malfoy’s lips against his skin, run his fingers through his hair. 
He’s playing a game, Harry thought to himself, he knows, he can tell, and he’s using it against me.
Time seemed to freeze as Harry flattened his hands on Malfoy’s chest and shoved him backwards, hard. As Draco stumbled, that ever familiar smirk found its way onto his lips. Malfoy hooked his fingers onto the edge of Harry’s cauldron, unaffected by its heat, and with a gentle pull, sent it careening off the edge of the table. Thin silvery purple liquid arced through the air, the candles that filled the dungeon with dim light shone off of it and flecked through it. The yellow light turned pinkish as it filtered through the potion, speckling peachy light across Malfoy’s nose for a fraction of a moment before the liquid splashed over Harry’s clothes. Hot potion soaked his pants, turning the bottom of his white shirt purple as the cauldron clattered to the ground. The heat of the amortentia stung, and he knew that beneath his clothes, his skin was turning red.
Without a thought of doubt, he reached for his wand, whipping it from his back pocket and pressing it’s tip into the center of Malfoy’s chest. The dark holly point dimpled Malfoy’s emerald and silver striped tie as Harry wracked his mind for a hex. Time restarted and Draco only smiled, his wand still tucked carefully in his robes.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron reaching for his wand as well, his ears turning scarlet as he glared at Malfoy.
“Mr. Potter!” Professor Slughorn’s voice sounded from the front of the classroom as he rushed toward the two boys. Ron tucked his wand back into his robes. “Lower your wand.”
“I would’ve expected better from the two of you.” He said, having to place a hand on top of Harry’s wand and force it down to his side. “Ten points from each of your houses.” 
Harry huffed in frustration, not able to tear his gaze away from Malfoy. Silvery eyes bore into his own, still full of emotion Harry couldn’t put together. Conflicted and mischievous, innocent and decisive all at once. “And detention!” Slughorn added.
“Professor-” Malfoy started calmly, breaking the unintentional staring contest himself and turning his eyes to the professor.
“I don’t want to hear it.” Slughorn swished his wand and Harry’s potion disappeared from the stone floor. “Potter, get yourself cleaned up and visit the hospital wing if you must.” 
With immense effort, Harry tugged his eyes away from Malfoy, picked up his bag, and pushed his way to the door without so much of a goodbye to Ron and Hermione.
He sped down the corridors toward Gryffindor tower, fuming. Malfoy’s scent still surrounded him now that it was soaked into his clothes. He would have torn his own heart out through his mouth if it meant this infatuation would go away. And Malfoy only knew how to make it worse, loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt only one button too far, wear his tightest black trousers, run his hand through his hair, roll up his sleeves and stretch his arms in the middle of class, bite on his bottom lip when trying to concentrate. It was as if every day he was trying harder to tempt and manipulate Harry, pull him deeper and deeper into drowning in that scent of cedar wood and metal.
Harry thought about this all the way to his dormitory, while he changed out of his soaked clothes and into clean robes, while walking to his next class, while eating lunch, he thought about it straight through to the end of the day, and it wouldn’t be the first time.
-
By the time he reached Slughorn’s classroom at 5:00 that evening for detention, Harry was exhausted. All he wanted was to draw the thick scarlet curtains of his four-poster and curl up under his blankets. All day, conflicting thoughts had been swimming through his head, and it didn’t help when Malfoy arrived and stood next to him at Slughorn’s desk. There was that scent again, hair product and money. Malfoy had taken off his button-down and was dressed in a simple white t-shirt tucked into his belt. However simple, the outfit still sent Harry’s heart pounding again, his eyes flitting around the room in search of anything to look at other than Malfoy’s exposed arms, or his chest and back outlined perfectly by the thin fabric.
When Slughorn entered the room, Harry’s gaze snapped to him, watching him walk the perimeter of the classroom and sit at his desk. “Alright.” He started, straightening a stack of parchment and digging a quill and red ink from his bag. “I’m going to grade papers.”
Harry and Malfoy nodded almost simultaneously, waiting for instructions, not daring to look at each other. “You two,” continued Slughorn, “Are going to organize the closet,” He pointed at the stores in the corner of the room, where the door hung open. “Two capable potions students like you should have no trouble doing it quickly.”
They started to turn, resigning themselves to the task of standing together in the tight closet and sorting jars of various potions ingredients. Slughorn caught them before they could take a step toward the stores, “And try your hand at getting along for a minute while you’re in there.” He waved his hand dismissively and Harry and Malfoy made their way to the closet.
Several minutes of jars clinking against one another and sliding across shelves passed as Harry and Malfoy worked with their backs to each other. Harry tried hard to ignore him, his scent still harsh on Harry’s nose despite the lack of love potion. He tried to focus his mind on his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, pushing away each thought of Malfoy that snuck into his mind. It wasn’t easy, every few moments, Harry would bump into him because of how small the closet was.
“Can you mind your space?” Harry snapped finally.
“Am I in your bubble, Potter?” Malfoy shot back sarcastically. Still, they didn’t turn to look at one another, Malfoy avoiding Harry’s eyes just as much as Harry avoided his.
A few more moments of silence passed before Malfoy opened his mouth again, “You never did answer my question.” He said softly, voice lacking it’s usual haughty aire.
“What question?” Harry frowned, pushing a jar of snake hearts out from behind a vial of ground unicorn horn. As much as he had tried to snap, the question had come out just as soft and curious as it felt.
“What did you smell on your potion today?”
Harry sighed in irritation, why did Malfoy care what he smelled off of his potion? “Treacle tart and broomstick.” He answered, sorting stink sap and valerian leaves. Malfoy was trying to manipulate him into spilling his feelings, and he wasn’t going to let him win. 
Another few moments of silence, Harry could feel the stiffness of the air pressing in on his throat.
“I smelled broomstick handle too.” Malfoy said finally. Harry’s brow furrowed, Malfoy had quit quidditch earlier that year. In fact, he never really seemed to have much of an interest in the sport, he only ever wanted to enjoy the feeling of winning. “And a fireplace.” He went on.
Harry’s breath quickened, and he listened as Malfoy stopped sorting jars and turned to face Harry’s back, “What do you think that means, Potter?”
Harry didn’t answer, reading the label of a jar over and over again. He tried to rationalize it, maybe the broomstick reminded Malfoy of winning, and maybe he enjoyed sitting by the fireplace just as much as Harry did. Maybe it all meant nothing and he was just trying to force something out of him.
“I can’t seem to place it.” Malfoy went on. Harry wouldn’t see it, eyes focused on the jar of morning dew in his hands. But Malfoy was lifting a hand, hovering beside Harry’s shoulder, hesitating to grab him and turn him around.
“What do you smell?” He asked again, this time in a whisper. Second guessing, he drew his hand away and let it drop to his side.
“I told you.”
“Did you?”
This is his game, Harry told himself, daring to set down the jar on a shelf, leaving his hands empty, he wants me to admit it.
Against his best judgement, he turned to Malfoy, who’s face held a certain sincerity Harry had never seen on him before. He’s going to wait until I say something, then Crabbe and Goyle will come out to laugh at me.
Harry stared down at Malfoy’s chest. He wouldn’t dare meet his silvery eyes, that would be how he’d pull him in, it always was. Draco’s eyes were what set Harry’s heart skipping beats, his guts twisting and knotting, his stomach pooling with something hot and pleading, something like want.
He’s going to get me to say something, then I’ll see he’s brought Ron and Hermione here to watch me betray their trust.
Malfoy reached up carefully, so carefully. His fingers pushed through Harry’s hair, his palm resting on the back of his neck. He tried to ignore how soft the strands felt on his hand, suppressing what he really wanted to say, I think I smell you on my potion, Potter. I think sometimes I can’t get you off my mind. You make my pulse race, you make my face go red.
“Cedar wood hair gel and galleons.” Harry said finally, meeting Draco’s gaze. 
Jars clanged against one another as Draco pushed Harry back into the shelf behind him, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. Malfoy pushed Harry’s cloak off of his shoulders, letting it fall to his elbows as his hands hovered, hesitating.
Pins and needles rushed through Harry’s limbs, the feeling of kissing Draco was nothing less than he imagined. His gut pooling with anticipation, heart racing in his chest. Harry’s hand fell on the small of Malfoy’s back, pulling him closer. His left hand reached up, fingers twining into the hairs at the nape of his neck.
They slotted together so perfectly, flawlessly pushed together in every place they needed. It made their skin tingle with energy, an electricity winding through their bodies, the absolute connection finally igniting the fuse.
Malfoy moved to cup Harry’s cheek, but pulled away. As quickly as he had crashed into Harry, he drew away. Harry leaned against the shelf, hair and robes disheveled as he watched Malfoy, waiting for the explanation, the moment his friends’ laughter would start to echo around them. But it never did.
They stared at one another for an everlasting moment, catching their breaths.
“I-I’m not falling for you.” Malfoy stuttered out finally, his voice suddenly so familiarly cold and harsh and quick.
Harry’s breath quickened, he knew it. “Manipulative bastard.”
Malfoy didn’t reply, he pushed open the door of the storeroom and slipped out before speeding from the classroom.
-
Detention had lasted hours longer, Harry carefully sorting jars by himself while Slughorn graded papers. He was numb, pushing away every thought and every emotion that tugged at him until he could hide them safely behind the curtains of his four-poster. He wasn’t sure if Slughorn had even noticed Draco leave, or if he had simply decided to deal with it another time. 
The way back to the dormitory was automatic, he didn’t need to think about where he was going, or anything really. He stared blankly ahead of him, droned the password to the Fat Lady, and climbed through the portrait hole. He didn’t greet anyone in the common room, though most people were still up, doing homework or talking with friends. He ignored them, and climbed the stairs to the dormitory.
The hardest part was accepting that he’d let himself get caught up in the moment, he’d let himself fall. He’d given in to the belief that somehow Malfoy could sincerely fall for him. 
Reaching to the floor to pick up his potion soaked shirt, he fell into bed and drew his curtains. Curling into a fetal position still atop his covers, Harry finally let tears free to roll across his face. He held the shirt to his chest and breathed in the scent with slow, deep breaths. Cedar wood and coins overwhelming his senses just as it had when Malfoy had kissed him. The potion was cold now, a chill creeping down his fingers from where he gripped the shirt. 
He had pushed away this constricting, aching pain for months, but now it was sharp, stabbing agony. It wouldn’t be ignored anymore. Harry choked on a sob, pushing his face into the soaked fabric. He breathed it in again and let it fill him. It all made him want to spill his guts out.
-
Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought!
8 notes · View notes
yourplayersaidwhat · 5 years
Text
The time my owl destroyed/saved Waterdeep...
Background: This event occurred during my first ever campaign and exposure to D&D. Our DM was the one to introduce us to the game and like Alice down the rabbit hole the rest is history. I still play to this day (Damn you DM).
Our campaign was in the Faerune setting but the story was home brewed. Our party consisted of: High-Elf Divination Wizard (me) Dragonborn Cleric (was a half-elf but died to our BBEG and got resurrected)  Drow Ranger (was a wood-elf but died in the same circumstance as our cleric) Dwarf Fighter and a Human Warlock (we met them through our DM but they could only make it to occasional sessions) (Side note: After the campaign we realised our Warlock only ever made it to sessions with the BBEG and this was one of those times) ————————————————————————————————————————– So our story had brought us to Waterdeep and led us to infiltrating a dinner party at the Castle where our BBEG massacred all the attendants but us and beckoned us to challenge him the catacombs below where there was an ancient shrine to the Goddess of Lolth, the Spider Queen. Through our parties collective research we had reason to believe he was trying to summon this great power either for himself or to just let loose amongst the realm. We make our way down after making sure the king was safe and fight.
The fight takes place in the grand temple that has been hidden away and forgotten by time with scriptures and writings of the Spider Queen’s wrath etc. etc. flavour text, blah, blah, blah. At the back of the room is a large stone structure where a ritual is taking place and a portal is beginning to open up. As we fight and the portal becomes more stable and we notice large beams of energy ripping through the terrain and presumably into the city above.
We collectively begin to panic with our spell slots and HP depleted and the portal still in a decent condition and our BBEG almost about to TPK us. Our DM was currently going through the Clerics action so myself and the Warlock strategized.
Wizard: I’m all out of spell slots and one hit from going down. Warlock: Me too I burn’t everything in Round 2 of combat, all I have is Eldritch Blast and Create Bonfire.
Wizard: I’ve only got Firebolt and I don’t think that’s enough.
Warlock: Does (DM) not give you guys any items?
And that’s when it hit me. ——————————————————————————————————————————–Backtrack: About 10+ sessions ago (2 or 3 months ago IRL time) we had been going through the Forest of Wyrms on a previous endeavour and looted a dungeon where we found a ‘grey powder’. We rolled investigation but couldn’t deduce anything from our low roles, typical. Moving forward a few sessions when we first arrived at Waterdeep my Wizard went to an alchemist shop to inquire about the powder. The gnome shop keep inspected it and became slightly hostile offering ridiculous amounts of money for the powder and no questions asked. My Wizard cast Sleep on the guy and left but only knowing it must have some value to it. The party tested it and we found when in contact with fire the powder was highly explosive. ——————————————————————————————————————————–
Cut back to.
Wizard: I have this grey powder.
Warlock: I have Create Bonfire! We can combo this! Wizard: Yeah but my Str is crap so I can’t throw the pouch and its out of Mage Hand’s range………but I do have my familiar. Warlock: OMG that guarantees it! We won’t need to role anything it’s just movement!
Wizard & Warlock: *begins hysterically cackling at the idea of a kamikaze owl winning us the fight* DM: *gives us a shifty look as our laughter draws his attention but he is still dealing with the Cleric* Wizard: Alright, lets do it.  DM to Warlock: What would you like to do? Warlock: I cast Create Bonfire in front of the portal. DM (perplexed): Right…..ok…. *DM turns to me* DM: Your turn, what would you like to do? Wizard: I give Avalon (my owl) the pouch of grey powder and send him into the Bonfire. DM: *his eyes glare as he begins to put the pieces together* The whole pouch!? Wizard: Yup. (The party as a collective kinda realised whenever we had tested the powder we only used a pinch and it did do substantial damage to infrastructure so when I say I use the whole pouch the party kinda loses their mind)
———————————————————————————————————————————-
With that our DM narrates as my Wizard says farewell to his beloved owl and gracefully swoops up to the ceiling of the catacomb before diving beak first into the small bonfire. Everyone is knocked unconscious momentarily from the initial blast but our Cleric stabilises us. We notice the BBEG has vanished and presumably escaped gravely wounded but the foundations and ground beneath us begin to crack and tremble. The portal begins shaking violently and shooting beams that tear through to the city above before crumbling apart. Our party book it up the stairs and manage to reach the entrance of the castle. We look over the city of Waterdeep as it lays there in ruins. Half the buildings levelled and roads torn apart. OOC our party celebrates our clutch victory with me and the Warlock high-fiving over our genius plan. 
But before we are around long enough to explain ourselves to the authorities we head north to Neverwinter for the final confrontation of our BBEG.   
416 notes · View notes
alindakb · 4 years
Text
Letters to my Parents - 26 November 1994 - by Alinda
26 November 1994
Dear Mr and Mrs Potter,
I’m writing to you because Harry can’t use his arm right now. As you might know, he had to perform the first task of the TriWizard tournament today. I’ve complained to Professor Snape about it all, told him it was too dangerous. Only that didn’t make any difference. Harry still had to face a dragon today. I was just glad he managed to grasp the summoning charm last night. We were up to two in the morning to practice. The only thing I was worried about was the fact that Harry had to summon his Firebolt from the dungeons. What if it couldn’t find a way out and to the Dragon enclosure.
Well, off course I was worried about nothing. Your son is amazing and very talented if he sets his mind to it. So the Firebolt came racing towards him only minutes after he summoned it. That didn’t stop him from getting hurt though. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. He’s hurt his shoulder a little. Madam Pomfrey premised me that it will heal in no time at all. He might already feel better by this evening, but it should all be fine once classes start again on Monday.
We were both very nervous this morning. I was glad it was a Saturday because I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate during classes. And neither would Harry. He was so absent. And his hands kept shaking. It took him forever to braid my hair. We spend the morning just lounging on a sofa in the Slytherin common room. Harry practised the summoning charm some more, upsetting Daphne in the process when he summoned her nail file from right under her nose. That will teach her for being so distant lately. Just because Blaise is an idiot and thinks Harry put his own name in that Goblet. I know Daphne knows Blaise from before Hogwarts and that they are friends. But she and Greg are also supposed to be Harry’s friends, and they’ve let him down.
Harry tells me to stop complaining about Blaise, Greg and Daphne and tell you what happened during the first task. He’s forgiven them all now that they want to be his friend again. He says I should do the same. Maybe he’s right but that doesn’t change the fact that they all behaved like
Okay, back to the dragons before Harry threatens me with more than to never suck me off again. Or decides to execute this threat, which would be a shame because he’s good at it. And now he’s turning all red in the face because I just told his parents that he’s good at sucking my dick. He’s so adorable like that. Just let me kiss him quickly and then I will tell you all about what happened during the tournament.
We went down for lunch around one. Harry didn’t want to, but we had already skipped breakfast and I was getting hungry. And I thought that Harry needed some food inside him before the task. So I made sure he eat some toast and had some orange juice. Normally he drinks like a hundred cups of that stuff a day, but today he struggled with just the one glass.
Professor Snape came to fetch Harry when he’d just finished his toast. I stood up with him, but Professor Snape said I had to stay and that I could see him again after the task. So I had no choice but to sit back down and continue my lunch without Harry. Harry gave me a quick kiss and told me he would be okay. I tried to smile at him and give him confidence, only I was way too nervous myself. He’s saying now that it did him good to know that I was worried about him and that I’m an amazing boyfriend.
It felt like it took forever before we could go to the enclosure to go watch the first tasks. Hermione and I walked down together and we found a spot to sit where we had a good view of the arena. Harry told me he was stuck in a tent with the other champions and that he felt sick all the time. It was horrible for him to wait in the tent and hear all the noise and not know what was happening. Oh, and he wants me to tell you that Mr Bagman pulled him aside to ask him if he was feeling alright and if he could help him. He wanted him to cheat if we’re honest. And that man calls himself a sportsman. It’s a disgrace.
Cedric was the first one to go. He transformed a rock into a dog. He was trying to distract the Swedish Short-Snout, and he almost got away with it, but the dragon turned on him in the end and he burned his face. After Cedric Miss Fleur had to battle her dragon, a Common Welsh Green. She enchanted it to sleep but the dragon still burned her with one of his snores during his sleep. Krum was third. He faced a Chinese Fireball. He used the Conjunctivitis Curse to blind the dragon. It worked for getting the egg, but Hagrid got upset when the dragon smashed half of her real eggs because she was stumbling around.
And then it was finally time for Harry. He had to face a Hungarian Horntail. She looked furious and I was sure she would kill Harry. I was so proud of him that he raised his wand and shouted the charm. He stayed calm while he waited. The crowd went crazy when the Firebolt stopped right in front of him. And then he showed off his amazing flying skills. Harry says that when he was in the air the task turned into just another Quidditch match and the dragon was just a player of the opposite team. All good and well for him, he didn’t have to watch the love of his life fly around a dragon and getting hurt in the process. During one of his tricks, the dragon’s tail smashed into his shoulder and I think I might have broken Hermione’s hand that I was holding. She said it was fine but I’m not sure.
It was amazing to see how Harry tricked the dragon into getting into the air to give Harry the change to grab the egg. He’s really beautiful when he flies, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. And the smile he had on his face when he got the egg. I just wanted to kiss him right then and there. Harry was pushed into the first aid tent by Professor Snape and I didn’t hesitate for one second before I was up and running towards the tent. Professor Snape smiled at me when I rushed in and found Madam Pomfrey cleaning Harry’s wound. Once she was done I took Harry in my arms and kissed him properly. I was so proud of him, he was amazing and got higher scores than all the others.
Harry wants me to tell you that he was really happy to see Blaise all hot and bothered when Karkaroff only gave Harry four points (out of ten). Blaise was shouting that he was a lousy, biased, gay basher. It made Harry smile to see our friend stick up for him like that. It was the end of this stupid thing that was going on between us all. At least for Harry and the others. I’m not that easy to forgive them all just yet for ignoring me and Harry this last month. Harry is just happy that Blaise, Greg and Daphne finally believe that he didn’t put his name in that goblet.
Harry is tied in first place together with Krum now. For the second task, he has to solve the clue of the golden egg. He hasn’t opened it yet because right now he just wants to celebrate that he survived facing a dragon and that he got to tell Rita Seeker off. Seeker asked him for a quick word and Harry responded: ‘Yeah, you can have a word, goodbye.’ And then he just marched back to the castle without looking back. Blaise, Greg and I just laughed and then hurried to catch up with Harry. And now we’re all hanging out in our dorm room. Tonight we’ll have a party to celebrate Harry’s win. The older years are organising it. Harry has invited Hermione, Ron and Neville to come. I don’t think everyone will be happy about this, but they are Harry’s friends and the party is in his honour, so I don’t think anyone will say anything about it.
I have to round it up now. Harry still needs me to write a letter for Sirius to tell him he survived and that he’s fine (except for his shoulder that’s still healing) Which is already doing much better if I have to believe Harry’s words. And once it is, I need to find a way to congratulate Harry on his win that is a little more than he will get from anyone else. And I love how his cheeks are turning red next to me.
Goodbye for now,
Draco Malfoy and Harry James Potter.
13 notes · View notes
fredsweaslies · 3 years
Text
the gardens that grow between us | chapter eight
Tumblr media
● word count: 1694
● fic index
"IT'S NOT HERMIONE'S FAULT, RON." Dolores rolled her eyes. "And I bet Harry's Firebolt debacle will be settled by the next match." Paloma sighed.
The two girls walked to History of Magic between Oliver and Ron's tall statures. Dolores had no idea why Ron was suddenly finding any moment to talk to her or walk her to class, but she wasn't complaining.
"I'm never speaking to her again, mark my words," Ron muttered. He had spent half their walk going on and on about how he was almost certain that Hermione let her cat attack Scabbers, while Oliver spent the other half in utter disbelief that Professor McGonagall wouldn't let Harry use his Firebolt for their upcoming match.
"Just you watch when he comes out on that thing, we'll blow every other house out of the water," Oliver said, pointing his finger up to the side of Paloma's face. "Don't you have class on the other side of the castle?" Paloma gave him a small smile, stopping in front of him next to the wall that housed History of Magic on the other side. "You want to get rid of me that badly?" He cooed, crossing his arms. "Go." She ordered softly, Oliver groaned and hugged her goodbye.
"Be nice to Hermione." Dolores gritted while squeezing Ron's elbow. "Well letting her rabid cat slaughter Scabbers wasn't very nice was it?" He whined. His brows furrowed and his eyes fixated on Dolores' stern expression. "Go to class." She sighed, and out of habit of doing so with Paloma, she smoothed out the top of Ron's robes and fixed his school tie. When Dolores quickly let her hands fall realizing what she was going, she looked up at Ron's crimson complexion. "I- I'll see you later." Ron quickly raced off down the corridor and to his next class.
Just as he was practically sprinting down the hall, Draco came into view. As Draco passed Ron in the hallway, he shot him a dirty look.
"I thought you said you were actually coming to breakfast with us this morning," Paloma called to Draco. As he reached the girls in the doorway of class, all he did was mumble incoherently and slump in his usual seat with them. Paloma rolled her eyes and ignored his moodiness, but Dolores looked on in guilt.
It had been two weeks since Christmas and Dolores and Draco had spent that entire week joined at the hip. They went sledding down a small hill that had accumulated from the snow, stole hot chocolate from sneaking into the school's kitchen, and would often waste their days away huddled around the fire in the Slytherin Dungeon. But, after classes resumed and Paloma came back, Draco started to act coldly. Dolores couldn't help but wonder if it was because of their holiday break.
When classes had ended for the day, it was the one rare occasion that Paloma and Draco didn't have a high-intensity Quidditch practice for the upcoming matches.
"Draco can I use your potions textbook to study tonight? I have no idea where mine is..." Paloma asked as they entered the Slytherin common room. "Yeah," He said under his breath. "Where are we setting up tonight?" Dolores sighed. She was starting to get visibly annoyed at Draco's short responses (if they were lucky enough to get one).
"I'm leaving with Crab and Goyle tonight." He huffed, dropping his potions textbook on the rickety wooden table Paloma had just sat down at. "What? Really?" Paloma squinted her eyes at him, "Is everything okay?" "What are you bloody on about? I'm fine." He growled. "Hey, don't be a dick. She was just asking." Dolores had an unusual tinge of anger in her voice. "How am I a dick?" He started to get louder with each word, so much so that half the students in the common room had now turned to listen in. "Just because I don't want to study with you?" "No, it's the way you're being a prick," Dolores shouted back. Paloma shielded her face with her hand, blocking the widened gazes from her fellow peers.
"And you're being a bitch." Draco sputtered. Gasps from the other Slytherins didn't do much to an already numb Dolores. "Draco -" Paloma stood up from the table and grabbed his shoulder. "Fuck you, dude." Dolores grabbed her things and ran off into the girls' dormitories. She hoped he couldn't tell that her voice was shaky from incoming tears. Draco exhaled his leftover anger and stormed out of the common room with Paloma trailing him from behind.
"Will you just leave me the hell alone for once?" He shouted so loudly that the hallway outside the dungeon echoed. "What is your issue?" Paloma shouted exasperatedly. Draco had no good rebuttal, instead he tried to keep his pale complexion from turning into bright red from anger.
"What happened?" Paloma asked softly, her ears were still ringing from all of the yelling. "What?" He snapped once more, his nails sinking into his palms in balled fists. "Something's obviously happened if you're acting like this towards us for no good reason," She exhaled, "What happened?"
Draco couldn't tell Paloma what had happened because nothing did. That moment in the snowbank seemed meaningless to him in retrospect.
Paloma slowly inched closer to him, his mouth still curled in disgust and frustration. She placed both of her hands on his shoulders causing him to flinch slightly.
"I know you have a flair for the dramatic but what you said to Dolores was out of line," Paloma whispered.
Draco twisted his shoulders underneath her grasp and fixed his robes that were ruffled from his sudden and quick departure out of the common room. He stayed silent following her comment.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," He said under his breath, Paloma noting the anger still lingering in his tone. "Are you hungry?" She sighed.
Draco was surprised at Paloma taking his wishes seriously. He shook his head no.
"Well I am," She quipped, "And you owe Dolores a hot chocolate." "The hell I do," He scoffed, causing Paloma to smack his ear. "You don't have a choice you prick," She said, pulling him by his elbow and leading him out of the dark dungeon and to The Great Hall.
That night, Draco begrudgingly followed Paloma's orders and handed Dolores a hot chocolate through gritted teeth. Dolores had actually refused to meet them in the common room and instead cracked the girls' dormitory door opened only slightly to retrieve the peace offering. But through that slight sliver of golden light from the fire sconces of the dormitory, Draco could see Dolores' weepy eyes and blotchy red face. He was starting to feel a slight hint of regret from earlier.
Paloma and Draco spent the rest of the night strewn across the Slytherin couch whose dark leather exterior squeaked whenever one of them made any kind of movement. Paloma had given into Draco's pleads of letting him copy her answers to the Potions homework.  As the last of the Slytherin students in the common room, Draco had noticed that Paloma's body was weighing down on the left side of his body. Her light snores were muffled by his shoulder. If it was anyone else, Draco thought, he would've pushed them off immediately. But for once, he found himself lessening his movements so he wouldn't wake her up.
"Your parents would be pretty proud, you guys almost look like an actual couple," Dolores teased behind the couch. Draco whipped his head around and straightened up, Paloma only shifting slightly.
"Look who made it out of their cave." He scoffed, leaning back down into the couch and fidgeting with his rings. Dolores came up behind him, propping her elbows on the backboard of the couch.
"Are you done being pissy?" Dolores whispered.
Draco lightly pushed Paloma off of his side, without much protest from a fast asleep Paloma. Draco stood from the creaky leather couch and faced Dolores, crossing his arms.
"Are you done being so sensitive?" He muttered.
A beat of silence went by with the crackling fire and Paloma's snores.
"Can you help me bring her to bed?" Dolores asked shyly. Draco groaned quietly.
The two grabbed Paloma from the couch and guided her to the girls' dormitory.
"Thank you," Dolores mumbled as Draco shifted the weight of Paloma to Dolores' shoulder. As she grabbed the doorknob that led to her other sleeping roommates, Draco interrupted the lull in the conversation.
"I'm fine, by the way." He whispered firmly, Dolores noted his defiant tone. "I know you are." She replied.
Dolores hurried inside and plopped Paloma onto her bed, taking her shoes off and tucking her inside her dark green sheets. Draco watched on from the doorway, feeling as if he was watching something he wasn't supposed to. He found himself turning away and wanting Dolores to hurry up. But every time he looked back at them, Dolores was taking Paloma's shoes off and making sure she had enough blankets on her for the night.
When Dolores finally finished, she walked back outside of the dorm, closing the door behind her and standing in front of it with Draco.
"What?" Dolores asked regarding his puzzled look. "Why did you do all that?" He replied simply. "What do you mean?" She crossed her arms. "All...that." He stammered.
"Making sure she's comfortable in bed?" Dolores laughed slightly at his uneasiness over something that seemed so trivial, "I don't know, she's my friend...I guess that's just what friends do." She shrugged, but she continued after seeing his stagnant look of confusion, "Sometimes it's okay if you do things for others, you know."
"Are you...okay?" Draco asked, changing the subject. Dolores shifted nervously, something about Draco's sincerity seemed strangely off putting. "Why wouldn't I be?" She replied, he shook his head. "I'm going to turn in now," Draco said simply. Before she could get a word in, Draco turned away and headed through the common room to his dorm.
Dolores nodded, watching him quickly walk off to the boy's dormitory. All while she got into bed and tried to drift off to sleep, she wondered why Draco would ask if she doing okay. But, it was something that she didn't want to think about all that much.
◀︎ chapter seven ☆ chapter nine ▶︎
1 note · View note