evaslytherpuff

[evaslytherpuff]

Things That Go Bump In The Night

Dark!Sebastian x Dark!Ominis x f!OC

18+ MINORS, DO NOT READ!!!

!Forced Poly Relationship!

(Characters are all 20+ years of age!)

CW: Angst, Non-Con, Sexual Punishment, BDSM, Aggressive Feeding, Oral M&F receiving, Rough DP, Creampie, Blood Kink, Biting, Marking, Overstimulation, Thoughts of death, Somnophilia, Violent Magic, Bodily harm…there were a lot for this chapter! This chapter is very dark! Savage vampires and lots of blood!

If any of the above warnings may be triggering PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE READING! Seriously, this one is really heavy!

Chapter 6

Just keep my eyes closed! Shut out everything and maybe the pain will go away! Vivian thought as she bit down on her wet gag. Nothing was working. She was a bloody, exhausted, and tangled mess. Tied up to be used relentlessly, covered in sweat and her own juices. Her cunt was weeping with every tremble of her worn out and drained body. She could feel how much had accumulated and dripped onto Ominis as he slid his shaft along her folds. Her muffled whimpers were drowned out by his heavy breaths brushing against her ear. Ominis held her bound wrists with one hand pressed between their bodies and the other he used to fondle and squeeze her blood smeared breasts, trail his fingers down her torso, then toy with her clit until she was writhing on top of him. His tongue flicked out to lap at her bleeding wounds, soothing the pulsing ache that tore through her muscles.

Sebastian was still wedged between her legs and seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was torturing her by dragging his nails, which felt more like claws now, up and down the sensitive skin of her thighs. He hummed pleasantly as he kissed every bite he left on her weak and tired limbs. Vivian didn’t even have the strength to close her legs if she wanted to which left her feeling more vulnerable than ever. She was at their mercy and they clearly weren’t done with their idea of punishment.

“How many orgasms has she had so far, Omi?” Sebastian asked as one of his claws brushed against her slit making her yelp and squirm against Ominis.

“By my count…I’d say six. She can handle more than that though. Can’t you, Sweetheart?” Ominis cooed in her ear. She shook her head and sobbed, her tears soaking her silk blindfold.

“We think you have a few more in you, Baby. You can handle it.” Vivian could literally feel Sebastian’s smirk graze her shaking leg. His breath was hot against her damp skin as his hands slid up and down her thighs. She could feel blood leaking from all the bites Sebastian had left on her marred body. It trailed down her legs to join the mess between her and Ominis. They didn’t compare to the gaping holes on her neck though. Ominis made sure to bite the same spots over and over again, making the wounds much worse and more painful than the ones on her thighs. She practically jumped out of her skin when Sebastian lifted her up to palm her arse and pressed a few kisses on her sensitive cunt. Ominis moaned loudly as he rocked his hips, his cock sliding against her throbbing heat, and started to thrust himself on Sebastian’s tongue. Now Ominis’ cock was pressed between her soaked pussy and Sebastian’s hungry mouth.

“You both feel so good…don’t stop, Sebastian.” Ominis’ head fell back against the pillows as his grasp became painful around Vivian’s wrists. Sebastian applied more pressure with his mouth causing increased friction between their writhing bodies as Ominis’ thrusts became more frantic and rough. She would have been bouncing wildly on his lap if it wasn’t for Sebastian holding her in place with his firm grip on her backside. His tongue would slip off of Ominis’ shaft and glide through her folds, dipping into her entrance. The line was obliterated between pleasure and pain and all Vivian wanted was for them to stop and give her a break. She tried to force her mind to go blank and become numb to their actions but each bite, lick, or thrust pulled her subconscious back into reality. Ominis must have noticed her attempt at shutting down so he gripped her chin with his free hand and yanked her head back against his shoulder.

“Tsk tsk, Darling. Stay with us. We are not done with you yet,” he snapped. “We are just getting to the best part.” Ominis smoothed her hair away from her face and removed her tear stained blindfold then he forced her to look down at Sebastian running his tongue all over his cock.

“Do it, Sebastian. No more teasing.” Ominis held her head in place and wouldn’t allow her to move or break eye contact as the brunet’s hands slithered around her waist to grab a hold of her hips. Sebastian chuckled deeply and it sent a shiver down her spine as Ominis moved his pelvis out of the way. Sebastian’s black eyes bore into hers as he reared his head back, his fangs glinting in the warm glow of the room, and sank them into her dripping cunt. Vivian screamed against her gag and mustered all the strength she had left to fight against their hold on her. They were simply too strong and Ominis yanked her back to his chest then bit into her sore neck once more. Another orgasm sent shockwaves through her ravaged body as Sebastian’s tongue breached her core while his fangs were still firmly locked inside her flesh. The room spun around her and became a pale swirling blur as the two of them drank from her deeply.

This is it. They are going to kill me. She thought as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Sebastian withdrew his fangs from her first and reached up to tap Ominis’ shoulder.

“Enough! She’s on the verge of passing out and we aren’t through with our punishment just yet, Ominis. We still need to finish.” Sebastian wiped her blood and slick from his mouth with the back of his hand then moved to position himself between her bruised and battered thighs. Ominis released her neck with a huff and left a bloody kiss on her throbbing temple.

“Give me the blood replenishing potion from the night stand.” Sebastian demanded with an outstretched hand and Ominis quickly obeyed, releasing her wrists to reach for the small glass vial. He handed the potion to their lover and Sebastian took it with a satisfied smirk. He popped the cork on the bottle as Ominis reached up to remove her gag. She felt utterly helpless as Sebastian took her chin in his free hand then poured the contents of the potion into her mouth. Vivian only had a moment to catch her breath before she felt her blood rushing through her veins. Every drop they drained from her exhausted body came flowing back in an instant. Some of it gushed from her wounds from how quickly the potion had kicked in.

Ominis bit into his own wrist and brought the wound over her mouth. “Drink from me, Darling. It will help to heal you.” He held the back of her head and pressed his arm to her lips but Vivian jerked her head to the side and refused to drink his blood, smearing it along her jaw.

“Don’t fight us. Do as he says, Viv.” Sebastian reached forward, yanking her head as he pried her mouth open once more, allowing the thick scarlet liquid to drip down her throat. Ominis applied more pressure which made the blood flow from his wound even more. Sebastian watched with dark eyes as she was forced to feed from Ominis who was slowly wiggling his hips beneath her. Vivian gasped loudly as he pulled his wrist away from her stained lips. The oddest sensation tickled her skin as she felt her wounds close and heal quickly. They had sealed up on themselves making her skin as good as new. Even though she was partially restored, she still felt drained and the agony from their bites.

Her head slumped forward and tears spilled from her eyes that splashed onto her breasts, washing away some of the blood that was caked up on her chest. Sebastian moved a little closer and cupped her face in his hands. He leaned in menacingly and placed a kiss on her lips. When he pulled away he studied her expression and ran his fingers down her throat then allowed them to continue to cascade down her body. He smiled at her but it felt cold and hollow in her opinion.

“I think red is your color, sweetheart. It looks amazing on your skin.” He swiped at one of her nipples with a clawed fingertip to gather a drop of blood and bring it to his lips. Ominis released his hold on her only to begin to palm and squeeze her breasts some more. He held them in his hands as if he was offering her flesh to Sebastian’s bloodstained mouth which the freckled man greedily accepted. His fangs sank into her skin and he hungrily pulled on her aching nipple with his tongue. He was feeding from her with loud grunts and groans as Ominis toyed and teased the nipple that was exposed to the heated air of the room. Vivian whined and turned her head away but Ominis was quick to correct her and forced her head to the left as his fangs sank into her skin once more. He pierced the area between her neck and shoulder and her nails dug into his torso over the sharp pain that shot through her. Again, they stopped drinking from her when she was on the verge of blacking out.

“Your blood is the most delectable thing to ever bless my tongue.” Sebastian panted against her damp and quivering skin as he licked his lips. He used his own fang to pierce his fingertip and Vivian watched as a small bead of blood welled up from the tiny wound.

“Suck on it.” He pressed his finger to her mouth and her lips parted reluctantly. He groaned loudly as her tongue swirled around the digit and his blood filled her mouth with that metallic savory taste. Ominis’ hand trailed down her torso and his fingers dipped inside her pulsing heat.

“You may say you don’t want this but your soaking wet cunt says something else, Love,” The blue eyed demon muttered in her ear. Was she aroused? Or was it all the blood that spilled from her wounds and traversed down her body? She couldn’t think clearly anymore and mentally she tried her best to block everything out.

“I can’t take it anymore! I fucking need you, now!” He growled as he held her hips firmly in his grasp and positioned her above his straining erection. Without any hesitation or concern he slammed her down on his cock making her release Sebastian’s finger with a scream. Sebastian quickly covered her mouth and muffled her heavy sobs. He leaned forward with a grin to kiss away the tears that spilled from her tired eyes.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Ominis was a bit rough, I know. I know. He just loves you so much. He couldn’t wait to have you any longer.” Sebastian tried to calm her down but it was no use as Ominis began to work her up and down his length. Her cries were snuffed out by Sebastian’s rough hand as he used the other to wipe at her tear stained face. He watched in a twisted fascination as Ominis fucked her relentlessly, her body jerking against the blond’s frame.

“Seb! I need you! Please! Please!” Ominis begged over her shoulder. What did he mean? She wondered. Surely there can’t be more? Could there? Ominis shifted the both of them on the bed, angling her slightly as he leaned back even further on the mattress, now her head rested against his shoulder. Sebastian released his grip on her mouth and kneeled between her spread legs. Realization dawned on her and she shook her head wildly as he grasped his cock in his claw tipped hand and pressed the head against her aching cunt.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine, Baby. We’ve got you. It’s alright.” The smile that spread across his face was menacing as he thrust his hips forward to plunge into her, joining Ominis. Her shriek echoed throughout the room but she was quickly silenced by Sebastian’s tongue delving into her mouth. The pain was unbearable. She gasped loudly as they both began to fuck her, stretching her way beyond her limit, surly something tore from the force of both men being buried deep inside her so quickly. Sebastian moaned loudly as his fangs grazed and pierced her bottom lip. Everything about this moment was too much. Too much aggression, feeding, using her body savagely. This was more than just punishment. They were beyond that now. This was animalistic behavior. Vicious predators devouring and enjoying their helpless prey. There was nothing she could do about it and she hated feeling so weak. She didn’t even have the will to summon her magic. The loss of blood left her utterly exhausted.

Sebastian relinquished his kiss and stared deeply into her eyes. The look on his face made her blood run cold and he gripped her chin between his fingers.

“Promise us! Promise us…you won’t…run away again!” He shouted between their frantic thrusts. Ominis’ whimpering grew louder as he sank himself deeper into her. Sebastian followed closely behind, pressing himself in as far as he could go. Their movements were now in sync with each other and she whined pitifully.

“Promise us, Vivian!” Ominis groaned and his hands slid up her torso to squeeze her breasts. Sebastian’s hands made their way to her hips and all she could do was shake her head slowly. Words escaped her, her mind was focused on this ending, she couldn’t seem to form a proper response. Sebastian glared directly into her eyes as they waited for her answer.

“I—I won’t run a—away again. I promise.” She blurted out with a scratchy voice.

“Good girl! You won’t, never again!” Sebastian growled through gritted teeth, his hips slamming into her in rapid succession. “You feel so fucking good inside her, Omi! So damned perfect!” Sebastian groaned and rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“Seb! I’m—I’m close! I’m gonna…!” Ominis sank his fangs into the other side of her neck as he reached his climax with powerful force, his claws painfully digging into her chest. Sebastian moaned loudly and did the same as he pressed himself into her as far as possible. Their seed mixed together inside her aching core as they filled her up. Some even spilling from her and running down her backside as they rode out their orgasms.

They were in ecstasy but all Vivian could feel was…cold. Her eyelids fluttered as she gazed up at the ceiling. The room became so bright, the light searing her dry pupils, she had to close them for just a moment. Just a moment, she told herself. They continued to feed and she felt free. The cold drained from her ravaged body and was replaced by a soothing warmth that flooded over her. Then …she smiled. She was at peace and it felt like she was floating. There was no more pain, no more confusion, nothing. Was this what death felt like? If so, she welcomed it with open arms.

Things were quiet, as if the world around her had gone completely silent. The warmth she felt still wrapped itself around her but feeling slowly bled back into her tired bones. Vivian twitched, a sure sign of life still hanging on by a thread, her fingers trembled as they slid across something soft and silky. A blanket? Was she in bed? It couldn’t be the one they all shared. This bed felt clean and didn’t smell like Ominis or Sebastian’s scent. She had to force her eyelids to open so she could finally take in her surroundings. Furniture and a dark room started to come into view as she rubbed her dry and irritated eyes. She was in a different bedroom, one that she had come across while exploring the castle, all the way in the west wing of the building. It was a room she had mentioned in conversation before. If she was awake to choose her own room then it would have definitely been this one. A tiny part of her was glad to know that they knew her so well and knew which room she wanted. The majority of her mind was wrapped around what they had done to her. Her stomach twisted and lurched as the memories flooded her mind like a tsunami.

She lifted her arm to bring her fingers to her neck and shuddered. The bite wounds were still there as well as ones on her wrists. They had healed her. She remembered Ominis feeding her his blood. So why was she covered in fresh bites? She slowly peeled the blanket from her body and groaned as every muscle ached in protest. Her brows drew together and she did a double take at her naked body. Her jaw dropped in horror as she saw wound after wound scattered across her figure. Bites on her thighs, breasts, hips, rolling over to see they were even on her arse. A strangled sob escaped her lips and she struggled to sit up. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she delicately touched the marks. Some of them were healed and others were still sore and tender. It made her wonder how long she had been passed out. What they had done to her after she lost consciousness.

They had used her body mercilessly, fed on her as if she were a mere animal, and discarded her in a room on the other side of the castle. She hunched over and brought her head to her knees and it was as if a dam splintered and shattered in her mind and all she could do was weep uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure if it was minutes or hours that passed before she was able to lift her head again and attempt to move. Her back was incredibly stiff as she shifted to stand and lurched forward from the bed with heavy feet. Her body felt like stone as she trudged towards an adjoining door across the room. Grabbing the handle for support, she sighed in relief when she turned the knob and saw her own private bathroom. In the center of the floor was a large square tub, similar to the prefect's bath in Hogwarts, but much smaller. It was a cozy and warm space and was a good enough distraction to take her mind off of her…predicament.

After filling the tub, she sank into the warm water with a moan of relief. The hot and soothing bubbles seemed to wash away any residual pain she was experiencing. She wasn’t sure what time it was, what day, or how many days may have passed. All she knew was that the castle seemed too quiet, like the calm before the storm. Sure it was only the three of them but you usually always heard something. The silence gave her a chance to think and figure out what she had to do next. She needed to focus on herself. Her eyes grew wide as her mind settled on a decision she knew she had to make, one that will devastatingly change things for all of them.

She pulled herself from the tub and quickly dried off before peeking her head out the bathroom door to check that no one was in her room. She styled her hair swiftly and slipped into a nightgown, not really caring how she appeared. She was only determined to get one thing done right now.

She looked around the room and noticed a large trunk sitting in the corner and smiled to herself. She dragged the case into the middle of the area and began rushing around the room, grabbing and folding all of her clothes and placing them in the trunk. She took whatever she could and shoved it all inside the large space. They must have moved her clothes from the bedroom they used to share. This made it easier for her to pack knowing that she didn’t have to enter that room again.

The door suddenly swung open and Sebastian burst into the room excitedly while holding a large book in one hand.

“I’ve found it! The next part of the ritual…” His voice trailed off and his expression dropped to one of shock and confusion when he noticed that Vivian was packing.

“Wh—what are you doing?” He asked as he tossed the book onto her bed and rushed over to try and pull the gown she held from her hands. Ominis entered the room seconds later, mouth agape, to witness Sebastian and Vivian fighting over the dress she was trying to fold and pack away.

“I’m leaving.” She said sternly as she yanked on the fabric and tore it from Sebastian’s hold. She quickly folded the gown and placed it in the trunk before slamming it shut. Sebastian looked utterly shocked and Ominis shook his head wildly, his face growing red.

“This is about the other night. You promised that you wouldn’t leave!” Ominis growled through gritted teeth as he balled his hands into fists.

“No! I promised that I wouldn’t run away again. I never said that I wouldn’t leave!” Vivian scowled as they both stepped closer to her. This time…she didn’t back away. She refused to be pushed around anymore and could feel her rage bubbling under her skin.

“Clever, twisting our words. Vivian…the other night…things were intense. Emotions were running high and we just…lost it. You running away, the punishment, trying to find more information on the ritual, it was all too much. You may not believe us but…we are truly sorry for that night.” Sebastian said softly as he tried to reach for her but she smacked his hands away.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You’re right, I don’t believe that you’re sorry, apologies won’t fix what you have done to me.” She said angrily as she stared them down. “You’re only saying sorry so I help with this ritual. I’m making this very clear. I’ll help get your magic back but afterwards I am done! I’m leaving. You want to stop me? You’ll have to kill me!” She stood her ground as her jaw clenched in fury.

“No. No no no! Vivian, please forgive us, please! We can’t lose you! We’ve lost so much already! Not you too! Please!” Ominis was beside himself as tears spilled from his eyes and Sebastian looked utterly heartbroken and at a loss for words. She shook her head with a scoff as she stepped closer to the men she didn’t recognize anymore.

“You should have thought of that before you did this to me.” She hissed as she held out her arms to showcase all the bite marks that marred her skin. Ominis flinched as if he was struck and Sebastian averted his eyes in shame.

“Vivian…you can’t leave. We’re begging. What can we do to fix this? Please tell us.” Sebastian fidgeted as his hands trembled.

“You—you can let me go.” She said flatly and blinked searing tears from her eyes.

“No! We refuse to do that! Never!” Ominis pushed past Sebastian and tried to grab Vivian and pull her into his arms. What happened next took them all by surprise.

“I said let me go!” She shrieked and a sudden blast of flames flew from her hands, striking Ominis directly in the torso. His body flew across the room and slammed against the wall, his head smacking the stone with a sickening crunch. He slumped forward, unmoving, as the smoke cleared to reveal a massive gushing wound on his stomach. Sebastian rushed to him and knelt by his side and attempted to help Ominis gain consciousness once more. Vivian stood completely frozen in place with her hands covering her mouth in horror.

She had performed wandless and wordless magic. It instinctively surged forward to match her rage and now Ominis was paying for it. She was mad, furious even, but she never meant to brutally harm anyone. Even after everything they had done to her she still couldn’t bring herself to hate them.

Sebastian scooped up Ominis in his arms and gently laid him on Vivian’s bed. He made quick work of his tattered clothes to fully assess the damage to Ominis’ body. Vivian felt as if she could vomit when her eyes landed on the gaping hole covering most of his stomach. The room seemed to spin around her and she grew woozy as Ominis remained perfectly still.

“Viv, get me the potions I need to help him! You know which ones we would use, get them from the other room!” Sebastian shouted but his voice sounded so far away and her feet refused to move. Her heart felt as if it were in her stomach as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I—I didn’t…” she muttered. “I—I killed him.” She cried. “I killed Ominis!”

I am so sorry my Omi girls!😬 This chapter was a doozy!

Also…Merry Christmas if you celebrate!🎄��️

Tag list: @littletealight @somethingiswrongwithme @wynterjai @dangerousdreamkitty @myrachondria @connorsoddsock @hotcinnamOnspicy @localravenclaw @fym-miso @froggyinaspen @underthenightskydreamsneverdie @moongurl95 @that-supernatural-world @pity-those-who-live-without-love @sevprince-91 @helendeath @felixthemochicat Thank you all & If you would like to be tagged, just let me know. If I have missed anyone in the tag list, please comment & let me know.

[evaslytherpuff]

Omg!!!🥵🥵

I can’t wait to catch up on so many fics after the holidays!😍😍

ONE. cockwarming — dealer!theo

warnings — smut 18+. cockwarming. exhibitionism. guns and slight gunplay.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“you little brat.” theo growls under his breath, his tone husky and taunting, sharp eyes locking onto yours. he takes his gun from behind his waistband, placing it next to him before his hands hastily untie the string of his grey sweatpants, freeing his already half-hard cock from his pants. without hesitation, he aggressively pulls you onto his lap, making you hover over his crotch.

“can’t even keep your hands off me for one minute, can you?” he continues, his darkened eyes staring so intensely into yours as a smug smirk curls on his lips. you feel your cheeks heat up at his teasing words, only worsening the ache between your legs as you struggle to ignore the uncomfortable dampness in your underwear.

you tried to keep your hands off him all day long— you really did. but it became difficult when he was busy all day long and unable to give you any attention at all, and you suffered from a terrible touch deprivation. he insists it’s because he has to be ‘professional’, as if one little kiss would hurt that much.

so after hours of feeling your hands roam all over his tensed body and listening to your whines about not getting enough attention, he decides to give you exactly what you want—or need—as his warm hands wander down your body, teasing fingers tracing your wetness.

“mmm, you’re mean today.” you murmur softly, your hands steadying themselves on his broad shoulders as his fingers swiftly pull your lace panties to the side, his piercing eyes not leaving yours once. with his other hand firmly on your hip, he positions you right over his precum-leaking erection and slowly pushes you down, making you hiss at the full sensation until you’re completely seated on his cock.

“finally.” you whisper breathlessly, your walls wrapping around him so tightly as the tip brushes against the deepest parts within you. but right as you want to move, theo tightly grips your hips, firmly holding you down. his smug smile widens when he notices both a puzzled and frustrated expression appearing on your adorable face.

“ohhh, you thought i was gonna fuck you? you thought you deserved that? that’s cute.” theo taunts, his tone dripping with mock surprise as his fingers slowly inch towards the gun, bringing it closer to your stiffened body.

“baby, please, just let me move!” you cry out, shivering as the cold metal of the gun slowly glides over your delicate skin, the barrel pointed right at you. a wave of fear courses through you, mingling with arousal, your wetness trickling down the insides of your thighs— he knows damn well this turns you on.

“nah… you’re gonna sit still and be a good girl for me now, a’ight? this is all you’re getting until i’m done with work.”

right when you part your glossed lips to speak, a loud knock echoes through his living room, causing you to gasp loudly. despite your desperate efforts to wiggle free from his firm grip, it’s no use, as he already yells a ‘come in’ to the client waiting in front of his door.

you frantically slap his shoulder in panic as he places the gun next to him again and smooths down your skirt, making sure it covers you both, leaving it impossible for anyone to see his cock buried balls-deep inside of you.

“you better sit still, piccola. don’t want him finding out what a filthy slut you are, huh? sitting on my cock while i’m working?”

“theodore nott, i swear to fucking go—”

“hey man, what’s good? you got any?” your head snaps to the side, your heart pounding out of your chest as you nibble on your bottom lip in unease. a regular client of theo casually walks in, hands in his pockets as approaches you both, thankfully not suspecting a thing— or so you thought.

“shit, what’s wrong with her?” he chuckles, his eyes scanning you up and down when he notices you restlessly moving around on theo’s lap, an undeniable flushed and embarrassed look on your face. your eyes widen when his gaze then lingers on your tits for a moment, theo’s eyes narrowing instantly as the grip on your hips tightens, his fingers pressing harshly into your skin.

“nothin’ you gotta worry about, mate.” he grumbles, before both his tone and eyes quickly turn icy. his hand casually reaches for the gun lying next to him on the couch, his grip on it firm and threatening as his other hand still possessively holds your hips. the poor man immediately takes a step back, swallowing hard when his eyes flick to the weapon, his hands weakly lifting in surrender.

“but uhm… look at my girl like that again i promise you’re not leaving this house in one piece, capito? coglione del cazzo.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[evaslytherpuff]

harry, i think it’s christmas eve

[evaslytherpuff]

Looking at Lee like…😱😱

Gryffindors ❤️🦁

[evaslytherpuff]

Ho, ho, oooh!!!🥵🥵

Happy Holidays my naughty friends!

And as we all know, we all have been very nice this year, so Garreth left a tiny present for us ⤵️

Love you all 💚🎄🎁😘

[evaslytherpuff]

This was so good!!! I can’t wait for more!😍😍

Carnal chapter 7

Summary: Daisy plans a special surprise for Mattheo during the Hufflepuff party for Triwizard champion Cedric Digory.

Warnings: 18+, guys its a lyric fic (not sure if I'm sorry about that or not), it opens strong with Matty's breeding kink, major side character hate (def not sorry about that tho), fighting (we all knew it would get here eventually, right?), Theo being the best bff a guy could ask for and a Maisy stan, if you've made it this far then idk just read it

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Daisy Waters

Word count: ~6650

A/N: I know it’s been a long time coming guys, but I love that y’all stuck around 💜

Divider credit @enchanthings-a

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Character mood boards Chapter Two mood board Chapter Three mood board Chapter Four mood board Chapter Five mood board Chapter Six mood board Chapter Seven mood board

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @sylviaonyx @helendeath @hotcinnam0nspicy @esolean

If you would like to be added to the taglist leave a comment or send me an ask!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Mattheo groaned, his bed creaking as his hips bucked with urgency. He kept his eyes closed, face lifted toward the ceiling, knowing one look at Daisy’s blissed out face beneath him would push him over the edge of an orgasm he’d been fighting to hold back for the last twenty minutes. 

It was late, or is it early, almost four AM and he and Daisy had been at it for hours. It started after she had gotten back in bed earlier that morning and wouldn’t stop wiggling her ass against him. He groaned her name in warning. “Cut it out, princess, you need your rest.” I've given you nine orgasms in the last twelve hours, how do you have the energy for more? 

He was exhausted, still in shock that she could match and surpass his sex drive, eagerly begging him for “just one more, Matty, then I’ll go to sleep. Please, lover, just one more orgasm.” Some nights he could convince her to end it there, but when she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out, a whimpered explanation of “can’t get enough of you”, he caved instantly. How can I deny her? 

But he didn’t give in without reason, adamant that she would have to do the work for this last orgasm. She never minded, happily encouraging him to lay back against the pillows and relax, kissing him as she rode his thigh. She looked so pretty pleasing herself using his body, he never could just watch. He gripped her hips, guiding her movements, or groped her breasts, or worked even more marks onto her body. She always pressed her forehead against his as she came, tugging on his hair or clawing at his neck, a soft whimper of his name signaling her descent into exhaustion. 

He thought he had driven her to that point earlier, her little whimper as she collapsed into his arms only six hours ago the telltale sign she was ready to sleep it off. Yet here they were, lost in each other again and he couldn’t be more happy about it. He had eaten her, fucked her thighs shooting his load all over her stomach, fingered her, and now he rubbed his cock through her folds, the closest she let him get to actually fucking her. A few fingers inside her to keep his cock from slipping in, he groaned like a man possessed as her lips parted for him, enveloping him with each stroke. Hold on, hold on, don’t cum yet, don’t cum yet. 

He ripped his fingers from her, lining his tip up with her entrance, finally looking down at her. Her hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders, tears sliding down her cheeks from the pleasure, eyes unfocused, and mouth open in silent whimpers. She has never looked so perfect. “You ready to cum for me, pretty girl?” Her eyes drifted to his, closing as he kept a thumb swirling on her clit. It was enough of an answer for him, and he finally let go, grunting as he shot rope after rope of his seed into her. It wasn’t nearly as deep as he wished, he longed to be buried balls deep inside her, putting her contraceptive potion to the test, but for now it was pure ecstasy. Her hands gripped at his chest, her silent signal she hadn’t finished yet and he smiled down at her. “Don’t worry, princess, you know I always take care of you.” He slipped his fingers back into her, pushing his seed deeper inside with every movement, until her walls clenched around his fingers and she dug her nails into his chest, whimpering incoherently. “That’s it, baby, cum for me, cum on my fingers. That’s it, that’s my good girl.” 

His legs gave out and he laid on top of her, kissing her jaw as she rode out the last waves of her orgasm. “So pretty when you fall apart for me, princess. I love you, Daisy, gods I love you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, groaning as she ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him as they caught their breath. 

“I love you too, Matty.” She squeezed him, holding him tightly to her, as if afraid he would get up and leave, but he knew it was just part of her love language. He sighed softly, once again overwhelmed by her love, given with no strings attached, no limits, and how quickly he had grown addicted to it. Everything about their relationship felt like they were moving way too fast and far too slowly all at once. He was drowning in her and he couldn’t get enough. 

Kissing his way up to her lips, he cupped her face in his hands. “You’re so incredible, Daisy. I’m so lucky to have you as mine.” He kissed her passionately, scooping her into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Carrying her into the bathroom he set her on the sink, gently wiping his cum off her body with a warm washcloth, encouraging her to use the toilet while he went to grab her a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in. He helped her get dressed, chuckling at her sleepy expression, and carried her back to bed, tucking her in, snuggling up next to her. “Get some sleep, sweet girl, you’re gonna need your energy tomorrow.” Arm around her hip, he kissed the back of her neck, closing his eyes. 

As her breathing slowed, he thought back to last week when she had come running up to him as he waited for her outside the Great Hall. He had cut off her greeting, pulling her in for a needy kiss after spending the last few hours apart. “Fuck, I missed you, princess. Sorry I interrupted you, were you saying something about a party?” 

“Yes! Hufflepuff is throwing a party for Cedric,” her voice dropped to an annoyed tone as she said his name, “two days before the first task takes place. Will you come?” His first thought had been ‘a Hufflepuff party, gods that sounds lame’ but the way she was looking at him had melted him on the spot. Who cares if it’s boring if I get to spend the night with her. “Of course I will, princess.” She had leaned in to kiss him, an excited squeal slipping past her lips. 

“Good, I have a surprise for you.” 

“Oh you do?” She nodded her head, giggling and kissing him. “Gonna tell me what it is?” He teased her, hoping she would slip up and give it away. 

“No! It’s a surprise, Matty! One I think you’ll enjoy.” Little tease. She leaned in and kissed him again, her hand gripping his jaw as she deepened the kiss. “What do you say we skip dinner, handsome?” 

Her little moan made his cock twitch, making its opinion known, and he groaned, desperate for her. “Oh, fuck yes.” 

Daisy had spent all of her free time alone over the week, “preparing for the party”, and Mattheo missed her company. He sighed, sitting at the Hufflepuff table by himself, waiting for her. He had finished eating fifteen minutes ago and he was starting to get annoyed. Where the hell is she? 

A shiver went down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Again?! Just fuck off already. He had been feeling someone staring at him all week. Slowly lifting his head he casually looked around the room, eyes narrowed as he searched. Every pair of eyes he met seemed shocked to find him looking in their direction, leaving him stumped once again. Just as the feeling became so uncomfortable he considered leaving he heard running footsteps behind him, looking up to find Daisy racing towards him. She crushed her lips down on his, pulling him close as she sat down, moaning into the kiss. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Mattheo. This damn practice was taking forever tonight, everyone is so nervous…” she must have realized she was saying too much because she abruptly stopped and changed the subject. “Mmm, steak and kidney pie for dinner? I could taste it on your tongue.” 

He laughed, it was hard to be unhappy with her when she was this cute. He pulled her onto his thigh, pushing his plate out of the way and sliding hers over. “Yes, and I saved you the last piece. You should eat, princess, I know you’re hungry after we skipped lunch. Well, you skipped lunch…I had a pretty damn good meal.” She giggled, no doubt in his mind that she was blushing, as he brought up their earlier activities. 

He had shoved her into a closet, grumbling about how much he missed her, needed her to himself, dropping to his knees and eating her to three orgasms. He hadn’t given a damn that she had squirted all over him, walked into his next class with pride as her juices dried on his clothes and face for everyone to see, the scent of her pleasure rolling off of him. 

Wrapping his arms around her as she ate, he nuzzled against her shoulders, kissed her neck, even fixed the ribbon in her hair, a green one he had bought her as an obvious sign of possession. “Where have you been, what have you been doing all week? I think it’s time to tell me.” He didn’t want to admit he had been letting himself worry, growing more and more anxious about her solo time with every passing day. 

“Give it an hour and you’ll know, Matty.” Her casual tone pushed him the wrong way, doesn’t she see how much this bothers me?, and he sighed. 

“Daisy.” His irritation at being kept in the dark slipped out, her name coming out much more coldly than he had meant for it to. Her back stiffened and she turned her head to look at him. 

“Mattheo.” Her voice was so much sweeter than his had been, making him flush with embarrassment. “Don’t you trust me, darling? Yes, I’ll admit I’ve been spending time around other boys, but my focus is always on you. Every moment we’ve spent apart this week is because I’m working on something for you.” He squeezed her tightly, feeling ashamed for ever having questioned her loyalty. “I’m yours, Matty, only yours. I walk around with your marks all over my body, your ribbon in my hair, we make out in front of everyone…trust me, my love, every single person in this school knows I belong to you. And I’m making sure they get a good reminder tonight that you belong to me. Now, sweetheart, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready for the party.” She tried to get up but he pulled her back down on his lap. 

“Wait, Daisy. I’m sorry I acted like a jealous ass, my sweet girl. I love you and I trust you. I don’t like having secrets between us and I panicked a little bit when you left me out.” Gently running a hand across her cheek, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss, pouring out all of his emotions. “Can you forgive me, princess?” 

Her chuckle took him by surprise, his eyes narrowing for a split second. “Oh, Matty. You don’t have to ask forgiveness for being yourself.” He felt himself flush with embarrassment again, damn she knows me so well already. “But don’t question my loyalty again, Mattheo. I’m a Hufflepuff, remember? We value loyalty above all else, and my loyalties are for life.” He froze, jaw dropping open a little. For life? Gods, please let her be saying what I think she’s saying. She took advantage of his shock, worming her way out of his grasp and standing up. He watched her take a few steps before turning walking back to him, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Take a shower before the party, darling. My cum is starting to stink on you.” He sighed as she pressed a tender kiss to his temple and watched her walk away, biting his lip as her hips swayed. 

Turning back to the table to down the last few sips of pumpkin juice from his goblet he could feel eyes on him again, anger rising in his chest knowing whoever it was had probably watched his entire interaction with Daisy. If it was a jealous girl thinking she could convince him to leave Daisy he would happily set her straight, leaving no room for doubt that he belonged to Daisy. But if it was another guy…well that changes things. He hadn’t been in a fight since school started and he was itching for one. Shaking off his anger, he stood, leaving the Great Hall and heading for his dorm. 

Mattheo was surprised to find Theo hanging around the dorm after his shower, thinking he would have been heading to the Durmstrang party for Viktor Krum. 

“Not going to the Durmstrang party, Theo?” He asked, looking over at his friend as he pulled out a pair of jeans.  

“Nah, figured I should probably skip it after that run in I had last week, not that I couldn’t take that kid, just not in the mood tonight.” 

Mattheo knew his friend had gotten into a bad fight after accidentally shoving a Durmstrang student, and that Theo could easily beat that guy to a pulp if he wanted, but he also knew Theo had a softer side that preferred to avoid confrontation where possible. “You’re just going to hang here by yourself all night? That’s no fun, mate. You’re welcome to join me at the Hufflepuff party if you want. Honestly, it’ll probably be a bore, but maybe you’ll find a cute girl to make out with.” 

Theo laughed, sitting up on his bed. “If it’s going to be boring, why are you going? Daisy? You're whipped, Matt, admit it.” 

“Maybe I am…” he shook his head as he chuckled, “…there’s something about her that intrigues me.” He replied casually, not wanting his best friend to tease him for his obsession over Daisy again.

He pulled his jeans on, a pair that were a little too tight knowing how Daisy couldn’t keep her hands off his ass when he wore them, and started searching for a clean shirt. Button up or t-shirt? Daisy made it sound like she was putting a decent amount of effort into her look tonight, why else would a girl need an entire hour to get ready, so I guess I’ll do the same. He pulled out a black button up, frowning as he slipped it over his shoulders. Is all black too much? Should I wear a tie? Dress shoes? Something that doesn't have holes at least? Ripping the shirt off he threw it onto the bed. Fuck, can’t believe I’m about to do this. 

“Okay, fine, I’m whipped. Now get over here and help me figure out what to wear. If you laugh, I’ll kill you.” He spoke the words into the room at large instead of to Theo directly, feeling ridiculous. 

“You know Daisy doesn’t care what you’re wearing, right? I know you two use silencing spells every night, but we can hear your bed frame hitting the wall nonstop and I see the way she looks at you, like you hung the fucking moon. That girl is so into you, Mattheo, she wouldn’t care if you showed up in your sweaty quidditch uniform.” 

“Choose your next words carefully, Theo.” He felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him, not enjoying the casualness of his friends tone as he talked about her being in his bed. 

“I just mean stop trying so hard. You’ve got her, now just be yourself.” 

For fucks sake, like I hadn’t thought of that already. “My self wants to look good next to her. She always looks like a sexy punk goddess in her ripped jeans and rock tees…it feels weird to talk about her with you…” He trailed off, looking over at Theo who was changing into a clean shirt for the party. 

“Not that weird, we used to talk about girls all the time. For the record, I like Daisy for you. She’s…well she’s hot, but I get the feeling she can keep up with you, even surprise you. Anyway, get your shirt on, Romeo, you took so long doing your hair we’re going to be late.” 

He groaned, feeling embarrassed again. It had taken him twenty minutes to get his hair just right, curls falling in his face the way Daisy liked. Theo is right, you need to stop worrying and be yourself, moron. He stood up, digging out his favorite t-shirt, the one he loved seeing her wear, the one she claimed was hers now, hoping she would claim it again right there during the party. Running a hand through his hair, ruffling the curls into their normal mess he bent to tie his converse. Much better. 

Pushing through the crowd of people gathered around the Hufflepuff House entrance, Mattheo looked around for Daisy, wishing she was by his side. He hated crowds, felt like he was drowning in all the bodies, he just wanted to hold her and ignore everyone else. 

“I didn’t think this was going to be such a big party. Or that we were late for it.” Theo’s voice came from behind him, acting like an anchor for Mattheos sanity. 

“I didn’t either…” He stopped as he caught snippets of other conversations around him. It seemed like the party had started hours ago, but people were just starting to get excited about something. 

“Has she gone on yet?”, “I chose this over the Durmstrang party, the rumors better be true.”, “I heard she has all new songs this year.” 

“Sounds like someone will be performing. I wonder who.” Mattheo turned back to look at Theo as they forced their way into the common room. 

“I hope it’s not this girl, gods she’s awful.” Theo nodded towards the large stage set up in the back of the room, where an older Gryffindor was singing extremely off key. 

Mattheo looked around the room, frowning as his eyes passed over the stage and the girl on it. “Is this an open mic thing? Daisy, I love you, but I did not sign up for that.” He shoved his way to the front of the stage, half a mind to get up there just to look around for Daisy. Suddenly a shiver ran down his spine again, the feeling of being watched returning. He spun around, determined to find this little shit once and for all. Theo looked down at him then looked around too. 

“You okay, man?” This is why he’s your best friend. Doesn’t even know what he’s looking for but he’s looking anyway. 

“I’ve been feeling someone watching me all fucking week and I’m ready to fight over it. Do you see anyone looking at me?” He knew if things did turn violent, Theo would have his back. 

Before Theo could answer, a loud voice sounded from above them. “Hogwarts! Who’s ready to get this party started?” Around him everyone cheered, as if they knew something he didn’t, and looked up, searching for something. Instead of joining them he looked around for Daisy once more, meeting a pair of eyes he hadn’t expected to. Cedric Digory. Why is he looking at me? Isn’t this whole damn party for him, why is he frowning like that? 

“You have some kind of beef with Digory?” Theo’s voice met his ear, his friend looking in the same direction as him. 

The question was simple enough but the answer, Mattheo was starting to think, may not have been so simple. He narrowed his eyes and Cedric did the same. What the fuck? “I didn’t think I did…” 

“Kind of seems like there is. Have you done anything to offend him this year?” 

“The only thing I’ve done differently is date…” He trailed off as realization struck. Oh no, no, pretty girl, please say it’s not so. Mattheo knew she had an ex, one who had used her and treated her like shit, like an object not a person. The night Daisy had told him about her sexual past Mattheo made her swear to never tell him this person's name, knowing the information would have him sharing his mothers cell block in Azkaban. His fist tightened as he looked at Digory, and he tried to calm his breathing. He needed confirmation from Daisy before he beat this asshole to death. 

“Then wait no longer! Here she is, Hufflepuffs very own, DAISY WATERS!” 

When the voice rang out around the room, amplified and excited, Cedric turned his head towards the top of the staircase, looking for her, an almost hopeful expression on his face. Mattheos eyes flew in the same direction, landing on her. Oh fuck. A single look at her and he understood why she needed an hour to get ready. He groaned loudly, his breath completely gone, his heart racing as his blood drained from his head. He grabbed onto Theo’s shoulder to keep his legs underneath him, feeling faint, more than happy to fall on his face in front of everyone if it meant she would keep looking at him. 

“Hello everyone! How are we doing tonight?” She paused for the cheers that rang out across the room, a handful of students chanting her name. “Thank you, thank you!” She held her hand up, the noise dying down as she started to ascend the stairs. “I’ve been asked to say a few words about our Hogwarts champion, so let’s make some noise for Cedric Digory, shall we?!” Around him the room burst into applause and screams, Mattheo staying quiet, smiling to himself when he noticed the almost imperceptible look of annoyance on Daisy’s face. “There are a lot of things I could say, but in the interest of keeping things short and sweet I’ll just say this: good luck.” The way she barely paused as she walked past Digory, not even meeting his eye, told Mattheo everything he needed to know. Oh he’s definitely her ex. 

Every step she took brought her closer to him, her eyes only leaving him when she looked to see where she was going. “Now that’s out of the way, who here is ready for a little music?” The room erupted in screams again, much more quiet than they had been for Digory a moment ago. “Oh, I know you can do better than that, let’s try again. Who’s ready for some music?!” At volumes he didn’t even know were possible to reach, the crowd cheered for her, but she looked displeased. “Still can’t hear you!” His ears felt like they were going to explode as he watched her move closer until she stood right in front of him in all her punk goddess glory. 

She looked stunning in her knee high leather boots with long laces flying around her legs with every step, fishnet tights giving him tantalizing peeks at the fresh batch of love bites he had trailed down her inner thighs, black pleated skirt covered in jingling zippers and silver rings, her hole-filled shirt showing off her lace bra and even more of his marks. But it was her eyes that held him captive, the holographic blue and purple pigments splattered across her cheeks like freckles, sparkling under the stage lights, hypnotizing him, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. She’s a work of art.

His breath caught in his throat as she placed her hand on his chest, looking him dead in the eyes and repeating herself. “I still can’t hear you.” The room around them fell silent, waiting to see what Mattheo would do. He opened his mouth to say her name, a desperate, needy, whimper tumbling from his lips instead. His cheeks flushed as the room erupted with laughter and cheers, but her gaze made it easy to block out any embarrassment he felt, the wicked smile on her face the most beautiful thing he could ever hope to fall victim to. “That’s better.” 

Elbowing Theo in the ribs to shut him up, Mattheo watched her jump up onto the stage, throw her guitar strap over her shoulder and step up to the mic that materialized in front of her. “What do ya say we start with an old favorite and…

Let ‘em know we’re still rock ‘n’ roll 

The crowd roared as the drums rippled to life, Daisy’s fingers moving over the neck of her guitar with skilled ease. 

I don’t care about my makeup

I like it better with my jeans all ripped up

Don’t know how to keep my mouth shut

You say, “So what?”

Her voice was like a siren song, one listen and he knew he would never recover, never be the same, never be able to live without it blessing his ears. My gods, Daisy. As if I needed another reason to obsess over you. 

I don’t care if I’m a misfit

I like it better than the hipster bullshit

I am the motherfuckin’ princess

You still love it 

Her eyes met his, twinkling with pure joy. “Fuck yes, baby!” He shouted out to her, unable to believe this incredible girl was his. 

Some, somehow it’s a little different when I’m with you

You know what I really am all about

You know how it really goes (oh, oh, oh, yeah) 

Some, someway we’ll be gettin outta this town one day

You’re the only one that I want with me

You know how the story goes 

“Sing it with me!” And they did, shouting the lyrics back at her

When it’s you and me 

We don’t need no one to tell us who to be

We’ll keep turning up the radio

What if you and I 

Just put up a middle finger to the sky?

All around him hands flew into the air, middle fingers raised and he laughed, loving the response Daisy was getting. 

Let ‘em know that we’re still rock and roll 

Rock and roll 

Hey, hey, hey

Rock and roll

Hey, hey, hey

The crowd knew their part well, making Mattheo wonder how many times this song had echoed through the castle without him ever knowing about it. He zoned out as the song continued, watching her fingers fly over the guitar frets, the ecstatic smile on her face as voices filled the air so loudly she didn’t even need to sing, and the little hint of concentration that grew as her guitar solo began. Come on, baby, stick that cute little tongue out for me, that’s it, just like in my sketch. Yes! He let out a soft ‘whoo’ as her tongue curved up to her upper lip, throwing his hands in the air. 

When it’s you and me

We don’t need no one to tell us who to be

We’ll keep turning up the radio

The crowd joined her and she let them take over singing the chorus while she added in additional vocals when the mood struck her, showing off her skills. 

What if you and I 

Just put up a middle finger to the sky? (To the sky) 

Let ‘em know that we’re still rock and roll

When it’s you and me

We don’t need no one to tell us who to be (Yeah, yeah) 

We’ll keep turning up the radio (Still rock and roll) 

What if you and I 

Just put up a middle finger to the sky? (Rock and roll) 

Let ‘em know that we’re still rock and roll

Rock and roll

Hey, hey, hey

Rock and roll (Rock and roll)

Hey, hey, hey

When the song ended Mattheo screamed for her as loud as he could, shouting “that’s my girl!”, throwing his fist in the air, watching her giggle and roll her eyes at him. He wanted to rush up on stage and kiss her until they both passed out, but she silenced that urge by stepping back up to the microphone. 

“Woo! Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?!” Mattheo watched her with awe as the room exploded into cheers again. She was a natural at this, seeming so comfortable with the room hanging on her every breath, making others happy with her art. She laughed, her smile making his heart flutter with joy, her happiness infectious. “This next one’s called Want You Like That and I wrote it about someone very special to me.” 

I think I talk about you 

Every time you walk out the door

I told my mom about you

Damn, I’ve never done that before

Her eyes didn’t leave him for a second, lyrics sung directly to him, only for him. You told your mom about me, princess? He smiled, heart racing, knowing exactly how much he must mean for her to tell her dead mother about him. 

I’d break his heart, I’d make some art

And then he’d call me a horrible person 

But now I’m thinking ‘bout you 

Every time that I’m wakin’ up

I wrap my arms around you 

Even then you’re not close enough 

You’re on my tongue, you’re in my lungs 

You call me yours and it sucks ‘cause it’s working

Mattheo was frozen in place, transfixed by the lyrics Daisy sang. There she goes reading my mind again. How does she know exactly what’s in my heart?

I brace for the damage 

You’re perfect, I panic 

So happy it’s tragic 

Yeah, I want you like that 

Don’t freak out, I’m nervous 

I’ll break us on purpose 

I’m fucked but it’s worth it

Yeah, I want you like that 

My biggest fear, sounding so beautiful slipping from her perfect lips. Are we both our own worst enemies? I won’t let us break this, baby, I promise. 

The way you look at me

You’re good to me, don’t know what this is

Not used to honesty

And honestly, it’s making me sick

It’s weird you treat me like a person 

And you don’t try to fix me

Just wanna be with me

After three months of drowning in her selfless love Mattheo had realized it wasn’t his job to fix a single thing about her, only to be there by her side as she fixed herself. The idea that someone else, Cedric, had hurt her, made her feel broken and worthless was enough to have him seeing red, the only thing keeping Mattheo from killing him right now was Daisy’s voice surrounding him like a calming embrace. 

But you’re tracin’ every line of my tattoos

His mind went back to the night he had asked about her tattoos, three ravens on her shoulder and the outline of a howling wolf on her hip. “The birds are my parents and I.” He had run his fingers over the two birds in flight, their wings flapping on her skin, understanding why the third was still on the ground. Oh my sweet girl, how lonely it must be to wait your turn to fly. Let me wait with you. His hand slid down her back towards her hip. “And this one?” She had smiled at him, his fingers tracing the black ink. “I like wolves.” She had given him no further explanation but he could tell there was more to it than that. 

Wasting all of our time in your bedroom

Every spare minute and I don’t want it any other way, love. Her eyes said the same thing as she winked at him.

Make it out alive, I don’t want to

Cause I want you, yeah

I brace for the damage 

You’re perfect, I panic 

So happy, it’s tragic

Yeah, I want you like that

Don’t freak out, I’m nervous 

I’ll break us on purpose 

I’m fucked but it’s worth it

Yeah, I want you like that

He watched her sing, sighing as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the music. My gods, you’re beautiful, Daisy. As the song ended, the crowd cheering, she slipped her guitar off and jumped off the stage, rushing into his arms. He pulled her into him, hugging her tightly as their lips met in a passionate kiss, the kind that promised they would go through hell to be together, even if it was a self created hell. “I want you like that, princess. Nothing is going to break us. I won’t let it.” She nodded softly in agreement as the band called out to her, eager to get back to playing. He sighed as she cupped his cheek for a moment before getting back on stage. 

She played a couple more songs, ones the audience knew, their level of enthusiasm still stunning him. The longer he watched her, the more desperate he became for her, desperate to be alone with her, naked with her, watching her needy tears ruin her pretty makeup. By the time she announced the final song he wasn’t sure how he was comprehending a single word she said, every drop of his blood pulsing through his aching cock. 

“I’ve got one more new song for you guys. This one’s called Nonsense.” 

The smirk on her face as she looked at him almost made him cum in his pants, and he let out a low groan, wondering exactly what this song would be about. He had a feeling he was going to love it. Surprising him again, she pulled the microphone from its stand and made her way to him as the band started to play, singing some intro notes. His hands automatically moved to her hips when she wrapped an arm around his neck. 

Think I only want one number in my phone 

I might change your contact to “Don’t Leave Me Alone” 

You said you like my eyes and you like to make ‘em roll

Treat me like a Queen, now you got me feelin’ thrown, oh

Groaning as she spun around, he pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her as her hips rocked against him with the music. 

But I can’t help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like “bleh-blah-blee” 

I don’t want no one else, baby, I’m in too deep

Here’s a lil song I wrote, it’s about you and me

He chuckled, thinking it was his tongue that usually went numb around her. Gods I’m in way too deep, princess, and I fucking love it.

I’ll be honest 

Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

And when you got your arms around me

Oh, it feels so good

He groaned again, how does she know exactly how I feel? 

I had to jump the octave 

I think I got an ex, but I forgot him

The greatest feeling of relief washed over him. Thank Merlin for that. Now if only your ex would forget about you. Forgive me for the fight he and I are bound to have tonight, princess. 

I can’t find my chill, I must’ve lost it

I don’t even know, I’m talkin’ nonsense 

I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’ 

I’m talkin’ all around the clock

I’m talkin’ hope nobody knocks 

I’m talkin’ opposite of soft

I’m talkin’ wild, wild thoughts

Oh really, princess? He knew she had some wild fantasies and desires but she kept saying she wasn’t ready to share them. He slid his hands down her legs, slipping them under her skirt and groping her thighs, not giving a single fuck that half of Hogwarts was watching them right now. She was his and he would do what he wanted to her. Her fingers tugging at his hair only made him want to keep going, to find out just how far she would let him go while they were in the spotlight. 

You gotta keep up with me

I got some young energy

I caught that L-O-V-E 

How do you do this to me? 

Fuck, I’m trying to keep up with you, baby. He had a feeling actually fucking her would wear her out more than what they were doing now, and the way she was grinding against him so seductively as her beautiful voice sang about such dirty things had him ready to force the issue. He spent the rest of the song kissing her neck and losing himself in thoughts of being buried inside her. How do you do this to me, Daisy.

But I can’t help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like “bleh-blah-bleh-blee” 

And I don’t want no one else, baby, I’m in too deep

Here’s a lil song I wrote, it’s about you and me

I’ll be honest

Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense 

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

When you got your arms around me

Oh, it feels so good

I had to hit the octave 

I think I got an ex, but I forgot him

And I can’t find my chill, I must’ve lost it

I don’t even know, I’m talkin’ nonsense

I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’

I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’, 

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah

Mattheo felt a hand grip his shoulder, yanking him away from Daisy. 

I don’t even know any-

Mattheo saw her whip around, shocked by the loss of his body behind her, her eyes narrowing as she saw what was happening. He spun around to see Cedric glaring at him, his face red with anger, and fists clenched. 

“RIDDLE!” Cedric shouted at him, before looking over his shoulder and speaking to Daisy, who Mattheo assumed had pushed her way through the crowd circling around him and Digory. “Really, Daisy? This prick is who you go for after me? You’re more of an idiot than I thought…” He didn’t get the chance to continue insulting her, Mattheo landing the first punch to Cedric’s jaw hard enough to make him stumble backwards. 

Mattheo wanted to yell back, tell him he had no right to speak to Daisy like that, or at all if he had his way, but he was so consumed by his hatred of the boy and the time he had spent with Daisy that he couldn’t form the words. His chest heaved with anger, the room around him blurring, except for his target, as he took another swing, landing this one on Cedric’s left eye. 

It was a mistake, bringing him too far into Digory's range, his own head swiveling violently to one side as he was hit in the jaw. Fuck. He didn’t recover fast enough, Cedric taking a cheap shot, hitting him in the stomach hard enough to take his breath away, making him double over and realizing too late that the other boys knee was about to collide with his jaw. 

“Stop it!” He heard Daisy shout, surprised to find it coming from above him, his head swirling as he looked around, discovering he was at eye level with people's shoes. He jumped up, charging at Digory, knocking him to the ground before mercilessly hitting him over and over. 

Arms wrapped around him and ripped him off of Cedric, Theo’s angry eyes boring into his. “For fucks sake, Mattheo, can’t you hear her calling for you?! Look at her!” He followed Theo’s pointing hand, eyes landing on Daisy, his heart breaking at the sight of her. 

Tears ran down her face, not the type of tears he hoped would ruin her makeup tonight, and she was shaking from head to toe, her chest heaving as she knelt with her hands flat on the stone floor. He watched as her fingers curled and she gritted her teeth, upper lip twitching as though she were holding back a snarl.

“Daisy?” 

[evaslytherpuff]

Hot hot hot!!!🥵🥵

Carnal chapter six

Summary: The sexual tension between Mattheo and Daisy reaches a breaking point as they grow closer to each other.

Warnings: 18+, thigh riding, oral sex (f! receiving), hand job (m! receiving),

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle and f!OC Daisy Waters

Word count: 4286

A/N: Things are getting spicy 🌶️ wrote this whole chapter in some sort of music and lust fueled trance, it was kind of awesome. Hope you dirty freaks (💜) love it!

Divider credit to: @enchanthings

Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four Chapter five

Character mood boards Chapter two mood board Chapter three mood board Chapter four mood board Chapter five mood board Chapter six mood board

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @sylviaonyx @helendeath @hotcinnam0nspicy

If you would like to be added to the tag list, leave a comment or send me an ask

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

The next few weeks flew by for Mattheo, his day spent at Daisy’s home breaking down a lot of boundaries between them. Mattheo was obsessed and he didn’t care who knew it. He hung on her every word, her sweet voice and soft giggles like a drug. He needed constant physical connection with her, from simply holding her hand during classes, pulling her legs over his during meals and ghosting his fingers over her soft thighs, to full on make out sessions in the middle of crowded hallways, it didn’t matter, he had to have her near. 

Tonight he was in the Hufflepuff common room, Daisy in his lap as they sat in a quiet corner. He was attempting to convince her to spend the night with him, kissing her neck and whispering in her ear. “Please, princess, let me hold you all night long. I sleep so damn well when you’re next to me.” 

“No fair…” Daisy moaned as he nipped at her neck and swirled his tongue over each bite. 

“Hmm? What’s not fair, princess?” He knew she was referring to the attention he was giving her neck, having recently discovered how much she enjoyed it, but she sounds so sexy when she blabbers like this, I can’t help but wind her up. 

“Using neck kisses to get what you w-want…fuck, Matty!” Her fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging at his curls.

Chuckling, he smirked against her ear. “Is that a yes, princess?” Going back to her neck he sucked hard, using his tongue to push her to give in. She groaned softly, her hips instinctually moving against his raging erection. Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, pushing her hips down on him as she continued. “Mmmm, come on, princess, say yes. Let me take you to bed and give you what you clearly want. Say yes to Matty.” 

She pulled away suddenly, climbing off his lap, leaving them both whiny and needy. “Come with me, darling.” 

Waiting for him with her hand out, he noticed her blushing softly, eyes focused on his pants. I know you’re not embarrassed by my cock right now, you did this to me, pretty girl. When she started giggling he flicked his eyes down and his jaw dropped. Oh. Oh my. He chuckled, very pleased with himself, and her. Outlining the bulge in his pants was an impressive wet spot, left by her grinding. “Well, fuck, princess.” He got up, following her up the stairs to her dorm. “Are you even wearing panties right now?” 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” 

She didn’t turn around to look at him, her voice stayed even, leaving him unable to guess the answer and it drove him wild. How wrong would it be to look up her skirt right now? He shoved his free hand into his pocket, resisting the temptation of lifting her skirt right that second. 

Daisy led him through the halls into her room, waving her wand to close and lock the door. His eyebrows shot up as he looked around. She wasn’t kidding, there isn’t a single bit of privacy in here. “Don’t get me wrong, Daisy, I’ll get naked with you anywhere, but, uh, won’t your roommates mind?” 

“Oh, we’re not getting naked here. Ever.” He frowned before she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to her level. “You think I want my roommates seeing that?” Her voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “No, the privilege of seeing you naked belongs solely to me now, handsome. And I’d claw out the eyes of any girl who ruins that.” Fuck, why is that so sexy?!

A growl slipped past his lips and he lifted her up, squeezing her ass in the process, growling again as her legs wrapped around him. “Which bed is yours?” 

“That way, you’ll know it when you see it.” He didn’t know which way she gestured, but she was right, he definitely knew by looking which was hers. The black floral blanket, and skull covered pillow cases were a dead giveaway, but it was the sight of his sketch, the one he had sent her over the summer, framed, and sitting on her desk that made him sure. 

Gently laying her down, kissing her before reaching for the frame, he looked at her with a brow raised. 

“Isn’t it gorgeous? My boyfriend drew it. He’s pretty talented.” Mattheos heart skipped a beat as she used the word boyfriend for the first time. Fuck yes, say it again, baby. He never liked it in the past, but hearing it in Daisy’s sweet voice, he felt like he could melt through the floor. 

“Oh, your boyfriend?” He wanted to play it cool, tease her a little, but he couldn’t, he loved it too much. 

“Oh, sorry, did you think we were just casual acquaintances, Matty? My casual acquaintance drew - Ahh!” She let out a playful scream and giggle as he threw himself on top of her, pressing her hip into the mattress with one hand and gripping her chin with the other. 

“There is nothing casual about us, Daisy Waters.” He growled. “Not a fucking thing.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I wish you’d let me show you that, Daisy.” 

“That’s why I brought you up here, Matty,” she didn’t look nearly as excited as he expected, “I want to talk about sex.” Talk or have?

“I want it. With you, I mean.” Pretty sure she knows that, dummy. “Only with you.” Nice recovery. “And I’m pretty sure you want it too, so why are you holding back, pretty girl?” 

“I do, Matty, I do! You have no idea…” His mind went back to the way she had happily spread her legs for him to crawl between, and the wet spot on his pants, a little smirk forming on his lips. Oh I have some idea, princess. “But…” No, not a but, anything but a but. “I have something that I need to tell you first, a secret, about myself.” She looked almost scared, making his heart flutter with a sudden protective instinct. He climbed off of her, pulling her into his lap, wrapping her in his safety. 

“You know you can, Daisy. You can tell me anything, sweet girl. Anything. You’re safe with me.” 

“I know, that’s why I have to tell you before we have sex. This is bigger than sex, more… revealing. There could be serious consequences if it gets out, Mattheo.” The worry in her voice was unmistakable and his own worry was growing. What could her secret possibly be? Doesn’t matter, I’ll keep it. 

“I won’t tell a soul, Daisy. I love you and I’ll keep your secrets safe.” Squeezing her tight to him, he kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. “Will you tell me now, princess?” 

“I want to, love, but it’s more of a show and tell and we need more privacy.” 

More privacy? “We’re alone in here, Daisy, just you and me. What more do we need?” She’s the only thing I need. 

“We’re not alone enough. Please, Matty, just trust me. You’ll understand once I show you. Just give me a little longer to figure out how I can do that.” Her stress over this situation was clear, and not wanting to make it worse he agreed. 

“I trust you, princess. We can wait until you’re ready, just know I’m going to struggle so hard. I want you, Daisy, constantly, desperately, completely.” 

“Well…that’s the other part of this conversation. I need us to move slowly, but I do not want us to stand still, I have needs and I want you to help me take care of them.” She blushed, giggling softly, the sight making Mattheo melt. Gods, I love her so fucking much. “Do you understand, baby?” 

He was nodding his head before she even finished her sentence, not caring in the slightest about how eager he appeared. He would take anything she gave him and greedily beg for more. “Fuck, yes, tell me where to start, princess. What are you comfortable with right now? I want to rip all your clothes off but that may be too much.” 

Daisy giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why don’t we start with you taking me back to your dorm, and see where things go from there.” 

“Gods, yes! Come on, pretty girl.” 

Daisy gasped as Mattheo led her into the Slytherin common room, the view into the murky Black Lake the first thing she saw. The green glow it cast over the room was eerie and cold, making a chill run down her spine. Certainly not in Kansas anymore, Dorthy. 

Mattheo stopped, letting her look around, and she knew he was happy to show her off, especially here. His arms wrapped around her waist possessively if she stood still for longer than two seconds on any given day, but this was his home territory and he seemed a little more relaxed, following a few paces behind her as she walked to the window. 

“What do you think, pretty girl?” 

She stayed silent for another few moments staring out into the darkness of the lake, feeling uneasy. “Get me out of here before I start thinking any further about the crushing pressure of the Black Lake being all around me.” 

“Oh, shit.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the window. “Why didn’t you tell me you were claustrophobic, Daisy?” 

“I’m not.” 

“Don’t like water?” She could hear his concern for her growing as he steered her in what she could only assume was the direction of his dorm.

“Love the water.” The tiniest of lies. The human side of her loved being in the water, loved being in this very lake. She had always felt good in the water, quick, agile, at peace, alive, but since she had become a wolf her relationship with the water had changed. It was life giving in an entirely new way but the wolf in her preferred to keep its paws firmly planted on solid, dry ground. 

She shivered again, the chill of the room seeping into her bones. She wanted to transform, knew her incoming winter coat would keep her warm, but there was an easier solution. Mattheo. Bringing their intertwined fingers to her lips she kissed his knuckles, taking in his smell. The effect was instant, the lust fueled warmth his scent brought her washed over her body, making her moan and her eyes roll back. She stumbled into him, unaware he had stopped, surprised to find him looking at her. 

“Daisy, are you okay?” His face was full of concern but there was a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, yeah, I just got lost thinking about you for a minute there…” Fuck. How am I supposed to explain this? What the hell were you thinking, Daisy, taking a sniff at him now? Gods, why is he looking at me like that? It's so sexy. I need him. I need him! 

“What about me, pretty girl?” Damn him. His voice was deepening as he caught on to her arousal. No way out of it now.

“All the ways you turn me on, baby.” 

“Oh you’re turned on, are you?” His smirk turned into a devilish grin, he looked like he could eat her alive. She was ready to be devoured. 

“I’m well past turned on, handsome, I’m dripping for you.” Fuck it, let’s go there. She stood on her toes, giving him a sloppy kiss, tongue swiping across his lips. “Get me to your bed, Matty.” 

Daisy giggled as Mattheo picked her up, his hands slipping under her skirt. She loved it, could feel exactly how much she was getting to him, his hard cock pressing against her as he quickly walked to his room. “Hurry, Matty. Wanna cum for you.” 

“Fuck, princess, I’m going as fast as I can, we’re almost there.” He set her down a minute later, pushing open his door, guiding her to his bed. He turned and looked around. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves for now.” 

“Thank Merlin.” She reached for his belt, undoing it quickly. “Get these off.” 

She kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag on the floor and reached under her skirt, pulling off her tights. “I’m gonna say things that don’t make sense, just let me talk, okay?” 

He clearly had no idea what was going on with her, but he was also clearly okay with it. “Are you kidding, your horny babble is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, say anything you want, pretty girl.” 

“Good. Get on the bed. No wait!” He was standing in only his button up shirt and boxers and the sight of him almost made her orgasm right then and there. Hold on, Daisy, just hold it down a little longer. She reached up, slipping a few fingers between the buttons of his shirt. “You won’t be needing this.” She tugged, what she thought was gently, his entire shirt ripping in half. Damn it! Fucking wolf strength. “I swear I’ll fix that!” 

His look of disbelief and eruption of laughter as the ruined shirt fell to the floor sent her into a fit of giggles. “Never mess with Daisy when she’s horny. Got it.” He chuckled, looking down at her. 

“Just get on the bed.” She said between giggles, smacking his butt as he did. The shocked look on his face and the moan she suspected he hadn’t been able to control turned her on even more. 

“Daisy! You’re a wild thing, tonight. I’m in for the ride of my life with you, aren't I?” 

“Oh, Mattheo, you have no idea just how wild I am.” She laughed deeply, crawling across the bed to him, straddling his thigh. “You asked earlier if I had panties on…now’s your chance to find out.” She rocked her hips slowly, grinding herself against his thigh, the thin fabric of her thong doing absolutely nothing to contain her juices. His hands slipped under her skirt, sliding over her ass, squeezing her flesh, making her moan. “Matty…” She was so close already, his scent driving her towards climax at breakneck speed. Her hips sped up, her thighs parting further, desperately seeking friction against her clit. Gripping his shoulders, she leaned in, taking a deep breath, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed, every muscle in her body clenched as a new wave of burning lust washed over her. Yes! Yes! She was oblivious to him and his exploration of her curves, completely consumed by the need to climax from his scent. Burying her face in his hair she tumbled over the edge of sanity, dragging her nails down his neck, digging them into his shoulders as the first orgasmic wave hit her like a train. She couldn’t see, blinding white light behind her eyes forcing her other senses into overdrive. She opened her mouth to scream his name, a perfect howl coming out instead, piercing the air, her neck stretching towards the ceiling. 

As the first wave passed she collapsed, falling back onto the bed between his legs, chest heaving, mind completely blank. After what felt like an eternity of pleasure she registered Mattheo calling her name, his beautiful face coming into view above her. 

“Daisy? You there, gorgeous?” She smiled up at him and he stroked her cheek. “You have no idea you just squirted all over me, do you, baby?” 

She stared at him, not taking in a thing he said. “You’re all wet, Matty…” 

“Yeah, pretty girl, I am.” He chuckled, a sound Daisy loved hearing and she smiled again, eyes unfocused. “One good orgasm and there’s just nothing behind those pretty eyes, huh, baby?” He pressed soft kisses to her face, gently lowering his weight onto her. 

She moaned in agreement, still basking in the afterglow and now his sweet kisses. Things were slowly starting to come back to her, she remembered she was in his room, and supposed to be denying the overwhelming urge to let him take her all night long. 

“That was incredible to witness, Daisy, you’re so damn beautiful when you fall apart. And that howl…fuck, that was sexy, I’ve never heard a girl do that. You must be worn out, baby, do you want to stop?” His voice was soft and caring, almost hiding his hunger for more, for the same release she had. 

“Want another, Matty, wanna please you too…” She trailed off, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. “Kiss me, touch me.” She finally gave up and ripped her own shirt apart, cursing as it split down the middle like his. 

Mattheo laughed again at her desperation and lifted himself off her, pulling her up to sit in his lap. She watched him toss her ruined shirt on the floor with his, sighing contently as he wasted no time acquainting himself with her newly exposed chest, making her giggle. His hair tickled her chin, the soft, wet kisses he planted outlining her lacy bra setting her skin ablaze again. She let herself breathe in his scent, getting high off of it. “Fuck, you smell good, Matty. I can’t get enough.” She buried her face in his hair again.  

“I've noticed you enjoying the way I smell a number of times now. I got some new cologne over the summer, is that what you like so much?” 

“Cologne? What?” She took a small sniff at his neck. “Oh you did, oh, that’s quite pleasant. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” She lifted his chin, kissing her way down his neck. “I’m talking about you, your natural scent, your pher-, never mind.” She licked a path up his neck, inhaling as much of him as she could, moaning as she sucked a mark under his ear. “It’s intoxicating to me, just like a drug.” She knew he couldn’t understand, and it was okay, he would soon enough.

“The feel of your skin is intoxicating to me, Daisy. Gods, the sight of you in this lacy bra is intoxicating. Please tell me your panties match, pretty girl.” 

“Wanna find out?” She searched the waistband of her skirt for the zipper before stopping, raising her hands to his chest. “Maybe you should take this off me given my track record with clothing tonight…” She laughed, her face flushing. 

“Good idea. Now where is that damn zipper, there we go. Fuck, princess…they do match, don’t they? Can you just sit here like this for a minute, this is an image I need burned into my soul. My perfect punk princess in her pretty pastel lingerie, just for me.” He groaned, making her blush and giggle. 

“You really like it that much, Matty?” 

He stayed quiet for a few long moments, just staring at her, his voice far away when he spoke. “Draco dared me to steal something from a muggle store once when we were younger. He shoved it into my hands and told me to run. It was one of those muggle nude magazines but this edition was all about lingerie. I had never seen anything like it. I thought it was so fucking sexy, I used that magazine to jerk off for years, I even went back and stole more. I’ve seen enough to know Daisy, so please, baby, believe me when I say not a single one of those models could ever compare to the sight of you right now.” She blushed as he laid her down, slipping her skirt off, and kissed his way up her body. “You are the absolute sexiest woman I have and will ever see. You make the lingerie sexy, princess, not the other way around.” 

She was stunned. She hadn’t felt insecure when she asked but his incredible answer made certain she would never feel insecure around him again. “Matty…I don’t know what to say…I love you…and I bought it all with you in mind…” 

“You bought this sexy little thing to wear for me?” 

“I did, and twenty others like it…” She giggled as he groaned against her neck. 

“Twenty?! Are you trying to kill me, Daisy?”

“Not kill you, Mattheo, just…turn you on.” She gasped as his hips bucked, his stiff cock grinding against her. 

“It’s working.” His growl made her moan and she felt him roughly pull her thong out of his way, a moment later rubbing his, now bare, velvety shaft against her folds. “Daisy, fuck, baby, I want you. You sure I can’t nestle my cock inside you tonight, princess?” 

“Matty.” The thought of him inside her was heavenly, something she had been dreaming about for months, but she was strong willed in her decision about showing him her wolf form before allowing him to take her completely, just in case it changed things. This moan of his name was a warning not to push his luck, one he seemed to understand as his hips slowed and he sucked another possessive mark onto her neck. 

“Will you let me taste you, princess?” He sounded so desperate for her, there was no way she could deny him this. 

Oral sex was something she had never received before, the way her past lover talked made her unsure she ever would, telling her it was disgusting and he would never indulge her desire even while demanding she do so for him. But he wasn’t Mattheo Riddle and it was easy to forget that jerk existed now Matty was in her life. 

“I’ve…no one I’ve been with has ever been willing…” She trailed off feeling shy about wanting this, his surprised expression making her groan. Fuck, should I not have said that? Surely he didn’t expect me to be a virgin, right? He didn’t say anything for a few long moments, staring down at her with a pained, confused look. “Matty?” 

She felt even more confused as he shook his head, leaning down to kiss her. “Sorry, princess, I’m having trouble comprehending the fact that any man would be idiotic enough to pass up the opportunity to devour your pretty pussy. Don’t you worry, I’ll make up for their foolishness, if you want me to, that is…” 

She nodded eagerly, whimpering as all of her embarrassment slipped away. “Yes, oh gods, yes, Matty.” 

“That’s my girl. You’re gonna love it, princess.” With another kiss he moved down her body, making her groan as he caressed her curves and spread her legs. “Oh, Daisy. Your pussy is even more gorgeous than I thought.” She could feel herself blush, heat rising in her face and her stomach, the feel of his breath on her soaked folds made her squirm with anticipation. “So fucking pretty…” she cried out as his tongue swiped over her, back arching off the bed. Oh fuck yes. “So fucking delicious…mmmmm gods, Daisy, you’re fucking perfect.” 

She could hear his words, her body reacting to them, but her mind was gone, lost in a world of pleasure better than anything she had ever experienced. Yes! Oh yes, Matty! Every movement of his tongue sent her further into heavenly oblivion. She felt weightless, certain her body was floating as he groaned and gripped her hips hard whenever she squirmed. How did I ever think this was wrong? It feels so fucking right. She was addicted to his worship already, knew she would die without it from this moment on, just like everything else about him. The sounds of him slurping and sucking, his groaning and heavy breathing, the sheer wetness of it all flooded her sensitive ears, leaving her begging for more, for him to never stop. Moaning his name over and over like a prayer, her muscles tightened, hands gripping his curls as the heat in her stomach reached a burning point, spreading through her veins like a poison. Her vision blurred, her heart raced, her lips pursed and she howled again as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. 

Ages passed as she slowly floated back to reality, Mattheo nipping at her thighs, sucking and licking, leaving his marks on her skin bringing her from one heaven to another. “Mattheo…” She moaned his name, softly running a hand through his hair, gripping his chin when he looked up at her, pulling him up to her face. She kissed him desperately, sucking on his lips, swirling her tongue with his, tasting herself on him. His hips bucked, she knew he was beyond ready for release, ready to force it to be his turn, his groans morphing into growls. Slipping her hand between their bodies, she gripped his cock, stroking him expertly, slowly, perfectly. “So big, so hard, look at you falling apart for me so prettily. You wanna cum for me, baby?” His whimper was absolute perfection, a sound she would never tire of. “Cum for me, Matty.” She watched his eyes roll back and squeeze shut, a deep growl emanating from his chest, his body shuttering, ropes of his warm seed shooting onto her stomach and chest. Her hand never stopped stroking, greedily milking every last drop from him until he collapsed on top of her, groaning her name. She stroked his back, ran her fingers through his hair as he struggled to catch his breath. “Good boy. Such a good boy for me.” His head nestled in her neck, his broken whimper sent deep vibrations through her chest making her back arch. Pulling her hand from between their bodies she licked his cum from her fingers, groaning softly for him. Arms wrapped around him, she held him close, basking in the warmth of his presence.

[evaslytherpuff]

You’re right! That ending had me in tears!🥹🥹❤️❤️

Carnal chapter five

Summary: Daisy takes Mattheo to her home in Hogsmeade and reveals the events that led to her living there.

Warnings (please read these): 18+, Heavy angst, discussions of death and loss, emotional vulnerability, but on happier notes, idiots in love, mentions of masturbation, slight dom!Matty who refuses to let Daisy think badly about herself, badass!Daisy who wont let anyone say shit about her man, major relationship progression, idk guys they're just super in love and its so cute

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!OC Daisy Waters

Word count: 5343

A/N: I'm sorry in advance for how this chapter will break your hearts, guys. If it makes you cry, you're not alone, I had a major breakdown while writing it. But the end scene makes it all worth it, I promise.

Divider credit to : @enchanthings

Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four

Character mood boards Chapter two mood board Chapter three mood board Chapter four mood board Chapter five mood board

Taglist: @sylviaonyx , @helendeath , @secret-sophieee , @evaslytherpuff , @hotcinnam0nspicy

If you would like to be added to the tag list, leave a comment or send me an ask 🩷

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Daisy woke early the next morning, feeling restless and anxious after dreaming about Mattheo. Dreaming about him was nothing new for her but they usually ended happily. This one hadn’t, Mattheo rejecting her after she revealed her secrets to him, telling her that he could never love someone like her. 

She slowly got ready for the day, the dream weighing heavily on her mind as she was planning on telling Mattheo the story of how she had come to live in Hogsmeade. It wasn’t a happy tale, one she usually kept to herself, but she wanted him to know. 

Standing in front of her mirror she shook her whole body, head to toe like a dog, trying to get into a better mood. You’re gonna see him in a little while, that will cheer you up. In the meantime focus on finding a cute outfit. You can do this, Daisy. 

Looking through her wardrobe she quickly decided on an outfit; a black denim miniskirt, a nirvana tee shirt she’d ripped the sleeves off of, fishnet tights, and an old pair of Dr. Martens. Smiling to herself in the mirror she hooked a black leather choker around her neck before sitting down to do her makeup. Thanking Merlin she could use magic for this step, she brought her wand up to her face, saying the spells to perfectly apply her desired look. Finishing with a swipe of her new blood red lipstick, one she knew would set Mattheos heart racing, she looked herself over one last time before heading to the Great Hall. 

Sighing sadly when she didn’t find Mattheo waiting for her near the stairs like he usually did, she went inside, eyes immediately going to the Slytherin table. Where is he? I need to see his handsome face. Turning for the Hufflepuff table she took a seat near the end, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice. After twenty minutes of checking the doors and his table she was growing tired of waiting for him, her hunger making her grumpy. Standing, she loaded her plate with a few spoonfuls of eggs, half a dozen pieces of bacon, four pieces of toast, and after debating for a minute, a couple sausage links. It was a lot of food but she would eat every bite and be just as hungry again by lunch time. 

She couldn’t explain it, just one more thing I don’t understand about being an animagus, after her first transformation she was starving all the time, as though she needed to fill both stomachs. She knew Mattheo had noticed the amount she ate, usually at least double what he did, but he never brought it up. She loved him for that, thank you for never bringing up the ridiculous amount of food I stuff into my mouth every day, Matty, I’m not sure I could explain it. 

Daisy began to eat, humming happily to herself with every bite. That was something Mattheo did comment on, the little happy dance she did, wiggling in her seat and humming, when her meal tasted especially yummy. “What are you doing, Daisy? Are you dancing? Oh no, please don’t stop, it’s so very cute, I swear.” He had laughed and attempted to kiss her even though her mouth was full, making them both laugh. Now, she’d noticed, he waited to take his first bite, anxious to know if she thought the food was worthy of her excitement, smiling when she began to hum. 

Where are you, Mattheo? Swallowing her food she lifted her head and took a deep breath, hoping to smell him over the food. Scents from all over the Great Hall hit her like a bag of bricks, too many of them containing bad body odor, or strong perfume. Her eyes watered as she took another breath, shaking her head and lowering it to her food to cancel out some of the scents of her peers. Gonna have to rely on your ears to find him today, Daisy. Closing her eyes she listened to conversations around the room, silverware scraping against plates, footsteps on the stairs outside. Right when she was about to give up she heard a sound she was becoming quite familiar with, his racing heart beat. Smiling to herself she resumed eating, glad he would be with her again soon. 

Mattheo was racing through the castle as quickly as his exhausted body would carry him. His muscles were sore and he yawned so hard he almost ran into a Ravenclaw student passing by. I really should have gotten more sleep last night. I know I was having a good time but this might be too high a cost. He had spent the night doing exactly what Daisy had told him to, wasting hours stroking his cock, cumming hard for her multiple times, whimpering her name with each one. In between each session he would wave his wand, cleaning himself up, and open his sketchbook to draw her. She was naked in each picture, posing in exposing manners, all of his attention going into her breasts and pussy, and he hoped the details were similar to her actual body. 

Rushing into the Great Hall his tired eyes found her quickly, his feet carrying him to her. Sitting down beside her he leaned in, pressing a few soft kisses to her temple as she chewed. “Sorry I slept so late, princess. Had a long night jerking it to you, pretty girl.” 

Daisy’s eyes widened, a deep blush spreading across her face, making Mattheo chuckle. “Are you telling me you didn’t do the same, little one?” He saw her swallow and slipped his hand under her chin turning her head to face him. Fuck, those lips. There’s no way she doesn’t know what she does to me. Capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, he groaned, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer. The world around him disappeared, Daisy the only thing he cared about. 

“Get a room, freaks.” The words registered in his mind but he ignored them, kissing her harder. “I can’t believe Mattheo Riddle chose her.” “I can’t believe Daisy chose him, have you heard the stories about him?” Ignore it. Ignore it. Focus on Daisy. He felt her tense and slid his hands into her hair to keep her thinking about him. “You could do better, Waters.” 

Daisy was on her feet, face to face with a fellow Hufflepuff girl before Mattheo could stop her. “Are you looking for another broken nose, Brooke?” He rose, slowly moving closer to her, gently resting his hand on her back. Is she growling again? He could feel the vibrations in her chest, ears just barely picking up the rumble coming from her lips. 

“Daisy, she’s not worth getting into trouble for, baby. Come back and finish breakfast with me.” 

“She’s not, but you are.” His heart skipped a beat, no one had ever said that about him before. Does she really mean that? Gods please let her mean that. 

Brookes eyes flashed with surprise, apparently not expecting Daisy to fight back and certainly not expecting Mattheo to be the level headed one here. Daisy took her surprise as a sign of weakness, stepping even closer to the girl. “Do not speak of things you know nothing about. Get out of here. Now.” The growl he heard in her voice got louder with every word until she was practically snarling, spitting the last word at the offending girl. Brooke let out a frustrated squeal and turned, storming out of the Great Hall.  

“Daisy,” wrapping his arms around her waist, he guided her back to the table. “Did you mean that? You really think I’m worth getting into trouble for?” He didn’t care if it came off as insecure, he needed to know for sure, his eyes searching hers for any sign of regret. 

“Of course I mean it, Mattheo.” She slid a hand up his arm, running her fingers over his cheek and through his hair. “There’s very few things I wouldn’t do for you.” 

Pressing his forehead against hers he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself if he tried. “I love you.” Blurting out the words he felt his cheeks flush, eyes widen, and then his breath slip away as she leaned over to kiss him. Melting into her touch, he lifted her into his lap, kissing her jaw, working his way down her neck. Is this a choker she’s wearing? Fuck, pretty girl, you know just how to get to me. 

“Mmmm, Matty, let’s get out of here…” She whispered to him, trailing her fingers through his hair again. 

“Your dorm or mine?” His voice laced with a growl, he began to tighten his grip on her, not letting her get away just yet, rocking his hips so she could feel just what she did to him. 

The groan that left her was exactly what he needed to hear. “Hogsmeade. I want to take you home, Matty.” 

This caught his attention, his mind kicking into overdrive. Home? Her home? Gods what if her parents are there, she wouldn’t be taking me home to meet them so soon would she?! This from the guy who just blurted out that he loves her after a single week. Clam down, Mattheo. 

Loosening his hold on her, he gave her one more kiss before helping her slip off his lap. Once they were both standing he took her hand. “Lead the way, pretty girl.” 

You didn’t say it back. Why didn’t you say it back? You know you feel the same way about him, so why not say it? 

Daisy was doing her best to ignore the voice in her head and enjoy their slow walk to Hogsmeade, but she felt like an idiot. It didn’t help that Mattheo kept pulling her over to the side of the road to lean against trees and boulders so they could make out along the way. Ugh, where’s a time turner when you need one? I’ve got to make it right. 

“You’re perfect, so fucking perfect.” Mattheo moaned as he worked a big love bite onto her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. She was moaning like mad, never experiencing this from someone so skilled before. But his words cleared the fog of pleasure in her mind, bringing her back to reality. Gently pushing him off of her, she sighed. 

“I’m not perfect, not even close, Matty.” Before she could say anything else his hand slipped over her mouth. 

“You’re perfect because I say you are, princess. Do you understand?” 

Her eyes grew wide, his tone held no room for misinterpretation. ‘I say you’re perfect because I love you, do not disrespect me by saying negative things about yourself.’ In an attempt to agree she began to nod, but Mattheo gripped her chin keeping her head in place. “Use your words, princess.” 

“I-I understand, Mattheo, I understand.” Her voice was shaking but his insistence was touching her heart in a way she couldn’t explain. Is this love? Someone encouraging you to see the best in yourself because they see it? 

“Good girl.” Leaning in again he gave her a firm kiss, as if to seal their agreement. “Now will you tell me what’s really bothering you? You’ve been quiet the whole way here, Daisy.” 

Daisy cursed, why does he have to know me so well already? Cupping his beautiful face in her hands she kissed his cheek. “I didn’t say it back and I don’t know why.” 

Watching his happy smile fade a little felt like a spell hit to the heart, filling her with longing to make it better for him. “I did wonder if maybe I said it too soon, but Daisy, I’d rather you don’t say it if you don’t feel it. You’re not hurting my feelings by being honest.” 

“But that’s just it, I do feel it!” Snuggling in closer to him, she let out a sigh. “I’ve been in love with you for months, Matty. I don’t know why I didn’t say it back. Most of the time I’m struggling to not shout it at the top of my lungs.” Chuckling, she dropped her head onto his shoulder. 

“Pretty girl, it’s okay. Just knowing you feel it is enough for now. You’ll say the words when you’re ready, I have no doubt. For now,” pausing, he kissed her passionately, moaning against her lips, “take me home. I want to be alone with you.” 

Whimpering when he pulled away from her, Daisy took his hand in hers, leading him through the village. 

Mattheo smiled nonstop as Daisy took him to all her favorite spots around the village, her eyes lighting up as she told him little stories. Gods, she’s amazing. I could spend hours wandering this tiny town with her, just to see the world through her eyes. 

“Alright we’re almost there, I promise.” 

“You know you’ve said that a number of times now, right?” He couldn’t help but tease her, loving the little looks she was giving him in response. 

“Well, I mean it this time!” Tugging on his arm she led him to the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village. He didn’t mind the trek through the hills even though there was a perfectly fine pathway they could be using instead, enjoying the sight of her walking in front of him, her skirt riding up as she climbed over boulders. 

Breathless by the time they could see the only house for at least a mile, it’s got to be this one, right?, he decided now was the right time to ask something he had been wondering about since they left the castle. “Daisy, will your parents be here?” 

“No.” She called confidently over her shoulder as she unlatched the front gate to a small cottage. 

How can she be so sure? It’s Sunday morning, where else would they be? 

“Good morning, Daisy. How is school going, dear?” An older woman called from the open front window of the cottage. He could barely see her face, but she appeared to be smiling. 

“Oh it’s going great, Mrs. Nettle. I’ve realized I forgot a few things, we’re here so I can grab them. This is my friend, Matty.” Daisy called out to the woman, taking his hand again and pulling him along a side path to the back garden. “Now, my cottage is pretty small, don’t judge, okay?” 

He ran right into her, not paying attention to where his feet were taking him, his mind trying to understand what he was looking at. That’s her idea of a cottage? “Daisy, that’s a shed, a straight up garden shed…” She lives here? Please tell me I’m missing something, there is no way in hell I’m letting her live in a falling down shed! 

Daisy was laughing at him, “just come inside.” Pushing the door open she stepped inside, urging him to join her. Will we both even fit in there? Seriously considering he might be losing it, he followed her, laughing out loud as he took in the space around him. It was a full house, all one room, but a full living space. He laughed again, realizing, not for the first time, he was so caught up in the magic of her presence he had forgotten actual magic existed. 

Looking around the room he could see her touch everywhere. The kitchen was bright, yellow cabinets painted with flowers, potted plants and herbs on the windowsill planted in funky pots shaped like skulls, crystals, even one shaped like a pair of breasts. You are so strange, pretty girl. 

The dining table, surrounded by mismatched chairs, was taken over by her potions kit. Stepping a little closer his eyes went wide as he saw what page her potion book was open to; 

Contraceptive Potion: How to brew and when to use

He could feel his face flush, getting a little turned on knowing she was thinking about sex to this extent. “I’ve never seen that in any of my potion books.” Mumbling under his breath he picked up the book, looking at the cover. 

Brews and Enchantments for the Blossoming Witch

Oh, well that explains it. Sensing something he looked up to find her staring at him. After gently putting the book back where he found it, he moved closer to her. 

“Having fun snooping, darling?” 

The smirk on her face made his heart race and he couldn’t even pretend to be embarrassed. “I was, actually. Do you want me to stop?” 

“No, look around all you want, Matty. I’ve got a few things to gather up, make yourself at home.” Standing on her toes she kissed his cheek before walking further into the house.

Mattheo took her permission to heart and slowly made his way through the house, looking at everything he could. The living room had a single oversized armchair, a fireplace large enough for him to stand in, fitted with half a dozen pot hooks and an iron grate over the embers. She cooks over an open flame? That’s kind of sexy. On the coffee table was a record player, a box of records next to it and three more under the table. In the corner were three guitars on stands, I knew it!, and a stack of sheet music. Picking up the papers he found she was writing her own songs, a lot of them. Gods, she is so cool. Looking through them he realized a few might be about him, the thought making him giddy.

Peeking over his shoulder he saw her in what he assumed was her bedroom, the only separated part of the house, a large wardrobe and a pair of bookshelves set up like room dividers to give her privacy. Wandering over he saw her tearing apart her bed, searching for something. Letting out a frustrated groan she threw herself face down onto her bed. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, princess?” Sitting beside her he coaxed her to turn her head to look at him. Chuckling at her pouty expression he lay down beside her, pulling her onto his chest. “What are you looking for?”  

“My journal, I can’t find it anywhere. I don’t like being without it, I have so many personal things written in it, Matty.” The stress in her voice felt like a tightening vice around his heart, making him wish he could instantly fix this for her. 

“It’s okay, princess, we’ll find it.” His grip tightening when she attempted to get up to keep searching. He let out a soft chuckle. “Not yet, I finally got you in bed, at least let me hold you for a while.” Her giggle sent his heart racing and he ran his hands through her hair as they lay together. But something was on his mind, something he needed to know. “Princess, who is Mrs. Nettle to you?” 

Feeling her stiffen and the heavy sigh she let out made him worry he shouldn’t have asked. Worming her way out of his grip, she sat up, looking down at him. “She’s my guardian.” Her words were the most simple in the world but the crack of her voice…the sound broke his heart. 

No, no no no, no no no no no, Merlin no, oh don’t let her say it, not my sweet girl. “What about your parents?” He hated himself for asking. 

Her calm blue eyes went dark as a stormy sea, her pale face lost what color it had, and she pulled her legs close against her. “They…they’re…dead.” 

His heart shattering into a million pieces, he sat up, pulling her into his arms. “Oh, Daisy.” Not knowing what else to say he began to press gentle kisses to her cheeks and shoulders. “Do you…do you want to talk about it?” She was sniffling, tears already falling down her cheeks and he kissed them away, tenderly running his fingers through her hair. She nodded, snuggling in closer to him. He pulled her into his lap, nuzzling against her, giving her silent courage. Trust me, princess. Your heart is safe with me. 

“It…” She stopped, taking a deep breath. “It happened when I was twelve, right after we started school.” Twelve, gods she’s been dealing with this for four years? 

“They were supposed to pick me up at Kings Cross that first Christmas break. But they never showed up. At first I thought maybe they couldn’t get through the barrier since they’re muggles, so I waited for them on the other side. I waited for hours, Matty, until it was well past dark. I was trying so hard not to cry knowing I’d have to ask for help. I didn’t want the muggle police to think I was a helpless little girl.” She stopped again, a tiny sob escaping her. The sound broke his heart all over again and he squeezed her tighter to him. 

“I finally asked a station worker for help. They tried calling my parents, asking me all about them. They finally called the police to take me home. We - we drove past an accident scene and it looked bad. Like no survivors, bad…” she forced her way out of his arms, leaving him completely stunned, and ran for the bathroom. The sound of her vomiting filled the air and he raced after her. He wasn’t sure which sound was worse, her gagging or her sobbing in between. 

He sank down to the bathroom floor, gently taking her loosely gathered hair from her hand and collecting the strands she had missed. Feeling quite useless he held her hair and rubbed her back, his mind still trying to process the story she was telling. Gods, she must have been so scared waiting at the station for so long, not knowing where they were. Suddenly she was back in his arms, sobbing hard, her entire body shaking. 

“W-we drove r-right p-past them…” 

He could barely understand her, her sobs turning into wails, his brain taking a moment to comprehend. His hand flew up to his mouth before he could stop it, a broken “n-no” slipping past his lips. No! Oh Daisy, no. Please, Merlin, no. 

“W-we were almost h-home when the o-officer's radio w-went o-off. 

C-Crash victims a-adjacent to Kings C-cross identified a-as Evan a-and Josie Waters…” 

Her cries rocked him to his core, she sounded so broken, like she was reliving it all over again. “E-very t-thing after that w-was a blur u-until some woman t-tried to take m-me with h-her and s-suddenly Dumbledore was t-there. He b-brought me back t-to school a-and I-I had to p-pretend like n-nothing was wrong.” Oh my Daisy, oh my sweet girl. 

He felt awful, wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to ask what she meant, why she had to pretend but now wasn’t the time. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he stood, carrying her back to bed, laying her down gently. Before he could lay down beside her, she curled into a ball, breaking down even further. He curled himself around her, pressing his chest against her back, whispering to her softly. “Let it out, princess, let it all out. I’ll hold you through it all.” He had a feeling she had never shared the story with anyone, never let herself truly mourn the loss of her parents, always holding back her emotions. “You’re safe with me, princess. Let yourself feel it. Scream, throw things, anything you need. I won’t love you any less, my sweet girl.” 

As if those were the words she had been waiting to hear since the day it happened she let out a raspy, agonized scream, her sobs choking it off. Body shaking, she went completely quiet, rolling onto her stomach, burying her face in a pillow. Screaming again she pounded her fist against the mattress, kicking her feet, keeping it up until she was completely breathless. Seeing her this way broke Mattheos heart but also made him love her that much more. She was so beautiful, completely raw and vulnerable, and he felt incredibly proud to be witnessing this moment. 

He pulled her into him, taking a few soft hits from her fist in the process, before she went completely limp, all her anger gone. Rubbing her back and kissing every inch of her he could reach, her sobs slowly faded. 

“I love you, Mattheo.” She looked up at him, makeup a mess, eyes red and puffy, snot running out of her nose. For fucks sake, how is she so fucking beautiful right now. She’s a mess and it’s gorgeous. 

“I love you too, Daisy.” He kissed her forehead, tightening his grip around her waist, sighing as she laid her head back down on his chest. He wanted to clean her up, wipe her face for her, but he knew the story wasn’t finished yet. “Do you think you can finish the rest of the story, baby? Why did you have to pretend everything was fine when you got back to Hogwarts?” He kept his voice gentle, but encouraging. 

“Oh. That girl from earlier, Brooke, she was already making fun of me back then and I didn’t want to give her any more reason to. I never told anyone at school about my parents.” She rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “Dumbledore and the other professors helped me deal with my parents house and all those things a twelve year old shouldn’t have to know anything about, and by the end of the year Mrs. Nettle had come forward saying she could take me in.” 

“Do you like living with her? She seems to really care for you…” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty great. That first summer we fixed this place up so I could have my privacy when I wanted it. I think she knew how awkward I felt living in a strange woman’s house, always feeling like a guest. That made it hard to let my guard down and be comfortable. Over the years I’ve turned this into exactly what I needed, a space to be myself. We’ve become good friends and, to be honest, I think of her like a mother most of the time.” 

“That sounds wonderful, princess.” Her tears had stopped but his heart still hurt for her, and a little for himself if he was honest. Her experience, losing parents who loved her dearly, was gut wrenching, but he would have preferred it to his own family story. Having a mother who was as crazy as she was beautiful, laughing with him one moment then pointing her wand at him and screaming the next, made it seem like a relief when she was locked away in Azkaban. No, Daisy’s pain was much worse because love had been present in her life.

They stayed silent for a few long moments, Daisy’s soft sniffles the only sound. “You all cried out, princess?” She nodded. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Holding her tight he carried her to the bathroom, setting her on the counter. While she blew her nose he found a clean washcloth, soaked it in warm water, and gently wiped her face until only her red rimmed eyes gave away that she had been crying. He kissed her face, whispering softly to her. “You’re so beautiful, Daisy. Inside and out. So damn gorgeous.” 

“Thank you, love. Oh, I’ve made a mess of your shirt…” 

He could feel how soaked his shirt was from her tears, but looking in the mirror he could see shiny streaks of her snot all over him. He couldn’t help but laugh and lean in to kiss her, he couldn’t care less about the mess. “Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, I don’t mind. Let’s get you back in bed, I want to hold you.” 

He carried her back to bed, setting her on the edge and kneeling to untie and slip off her boots, kissing his way up her legs purely because he could. Kicking off his own shoes, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor he crawled in beside her, throwing the covers over them. 

She curled up beside him, her head resting on his chest. Looking up at him, blinking slowly, her crying having exhausted her, she spoke softly. “I lost everyone I loved that day. Until now.” Her eyes closing, he ran his fingers through her hair, gently lulling her to sleep. I love you too, princess. 

Mattheo woke after a few hours of the most restful sleep he had gotten in a long time to find the bed empty. 

“Daisy?” He called into the room, hoping she was still there. This is her house, where else would she go? Seconds of silence passed before he sat up, discovering her shoes still on the floor at his feet. 

Pulling on his shirt, walking through the house he caught a glimpse of her outside, kneeling over a garden bed with who he could only assume was Mrs. Nettle by her side. They were talking, working in the dirt, Mrs. Nettle frowning a little as the conversation went on. Opening the front door as quietly as he could he caught the tail end of their conversation. 

“Are you sure about this, Daisy? About him? You didn’t hide his identity from me by calling him Matty earlier. Anyone my age can see he’s the Riddle child…looks so like his father.” 

“Matilda.” Daisy’s voice was full of warning, and the older woman sighed. 

“Child, you know I think of you as an adult, and you’re free to make your own choices, I just want you to be careful. Even I know the boy’s reputation.” 

“And I know that a reputation is nothing more than the opinions of others. I have no interest in what others think of him. I can judge him for myself, based on who he really is.” Oh, I love you, my sweet girl. 

“Are you prepared for the case he turns out to be more like his father than you think?” 

He could hear Daisy’s voice begin to rise, her frustration clear. “I am under no illusions of his family tree, Matilda. I’m well aware there is probably a darkness to him that he hasn’t yet shown, but I don’t care. My heart screams for him, I feel it in my gut-“ 

“Oh here we go with your gut again. Daisy. It’s not a real thing, your intestines are not capable of-“ 

“Maybe it’s a muggle thing you can’t understand, Matilda, but it is very real to me! As is my love for him. Any darkness in him won’t change that. I’m not afraid of darkness, I’ve faced my share of it, knowing there were people who would love me on the other side. But he’s never been shown darkness is nothing to be ashamed of, that it doesn’t have to define you, that it can be beautiful.” There was a pause and Mattheo risked a peek around the door, finding her standing up with an armful of carrots. “I don't understand it, I have no explanation why, but I know I’m meant to show him that, meant to love him for everything he is, meant to be his.” 

She turned away from the garden bed, Mrs. Nettle sighing and slowly following her into the big cottage. When they had passed Mattheo slowly closed the door to Daisy’s house, sliding down the door and resting his head in his hands. I don’t understand it either, pretty girl, but I know you’re right. 

The love between them felt like fate, like destiny, and even though he didn’t believe in such things, actively prayed against it, he couldn’t deny he had the same absolute certainty when it came to Daisy. Whether it would be a slow burn that lasted for decades or a short fuse only lasting a few years, there was nowhere else for him to be but by her side, loving her with everything he had. 

[evaslytherpuff]

IM CATCHING UP WITH MAISY!!!😍😍 Her demand???!!!😱😱❤️❤️

Carnal, chapter four

Summary: Mattheo Riddle can’t stop thinking about Daisy Waters, the pair admit their longing for each other, and she gives him an assignment

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, Idiots in love, use of many pet names, a touch of dom!Matty

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!OC Daisy Waters

Word count: 2383

A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter, I hope you guys like it. Also a reminder that they start school at a later age in this fic making them both at least 16 in this chapter.

Divider credit to @enchanthings

Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three

Character mood board Chapter two mood board Chapter three mood board Chapter four mood board

(I've been having trouble with links lately, if these links don't work please let me know.)

Taglist: @sylviaonyx , @helendeath , @secret-sophieee , @evaslytherpuff , @hotcinnam0nspicy

The first week of school had passed far too quickly for Mattheos liking, something he never expected to think about school. With Daisy by his side the days seemed shorter, never giving him enough time with her. Even with everything going on at Hogwarts this year, the Triwizard Tournament, all the extra students filling the castle, she was still the only thing he thought about, the only one he saw.

Sitting together in the Great Hall watching as older students dropped their name into the Goblet of Fire he had something more specific on his mind. Her lips. They had shared a few soft kisses since the train ride but Mattheo was ready for more, ready to show a little bit of his desperation, his hunger for her. Tearing off a piece of paper from his notebook he wrote her a note. 

Can’t stop thinking about kissing you.

He dropped it on her open book, watching as she smiled sweetly. He was quickly learning that she was good at covering her emotions with a pretty smile while in public but she would let her guard down when they were alone. She’s such a mystery but I’ll figure her out one day, he thought to himself, chuckling as she pulled the pen from his hand, turning her body away from him as she scribbled a response. Standing, she closed her book and slipped the note into the pocket of his shirt, brushing her fingers over his cheek as she walked towards the exit. Moaning at her flirty touches he fished the note out, groaning as read her words. 

Then do something about it…

Gods this girl is going to be the death of me. 

Closing his notebook he raced after her, grabbing her hand when he caught up, leading her into an empty corridor. He wanted to pick her up, roughly press her against the wall, and kiss her until their lips bleed, but still trying to take things slow, he stopped and let her make the first move. 

She surprised him, leaning in and sniffing him, closing her eyes and moaning. What the fuck? Did she just sniff me? 

“Like the way I smell, do you?” He chuckled, not sure what to make of this but feeling himself getting excited nonetheless. If that’s what does it for her…

“You have no idea, Mattheo. No idea.” 

The undertone of lust in her voice made his cock ache and he bit back a moan, stepping closer to her, slipping an arm around her waist. “You’re an odd girl, Daisy. I like that.” Squeezing her tight to him, he kissed her passionately, making his hunger for her, all of her, known. 

“I’m so glad you do, Mattheo.” She whispered against his lips, nuzzling her nose against his cheek, something she did a lot during their time together. The first few times he thought it was a little weird but now he loved it, longed for those little moments, never wanted to go without them, they made him feel like she was gently staking her claim on him. 

“Tell me something. Anything. What’s on your mind, pretty girl? I want to know every thought.” While he waited for her to respond, why is it taking her so long, he covered her face in kisses, her little giggles making his heart flutter. “Having trouble deciding what to say? Or do I just take your breath away?” He meant it jokingly but looking down at her he realized he may not have been far off, her face reflecting the confusion of his own feelings for her. “What is it, baby, what’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know how I feel about my feelings,” she sighed, burying her head in his neck. “I’m so into you, Matty,” Matty? Oh I like that. “I’ve wanted you for so long but now that it’s happening I'm torn… I’m falling for you so damn quickly, everything I feel is so intense…” Is she reading my mind right now? 

“You’re not torn about being with me, right?” He didn’t care if he sounded insecure, not with her, he didn’t even think there was a possibility that was the reason, but he had to be sure. 

She whipped her head up so fast he heard her neck crack, a stunned look on her face. “What? Fuck no!” 

He’d never heard her curse before and the vehemence with which she did, shoving aside his idiotic thought, turned him on like nothing ever had. Growling, he picked her up and pinned her against the wall. “You feel torn between taking things slow because this feels so fucking right and you’re afraid of messing it up versus ripping our clothes off and not leaving my bed for days? Something like that?” 

The look in her eyes, like she would die if they didn’t figure out how to do both, told him everything his heart needed, her whimper of agreement and her fingers tangling in his hair didn’t hurt either. “Thank Merlin, I thought I was going crazy.” He chuckled, kissing her again, relieved he wasn’t the only one feeling this way. “What do we do about it, pretty girl, cause I gotta do something, need to make you mine one way or another.” 

“We let down our walls, share our secrets, we trust, we…love. I want to show you who I am, Matty, and there’s so much to share, so much I keep hidden…but I need to know you’re willing to do the same for me, know I’m safe giving you my heart.” 

“You are, Daisy, I swear, so fucking safe with me. Gods, my walls crumbled the moment you told me your name, the same moment I fell for you.” He stopped, feeling his face flush with this confession, knowing it was too soon to admit, but he didn’t care. He loved her already, beyond all reason, and even though it terrified him he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Trust me with your heart, help me learn to trust you with mine.” He pressed his forehead against hers knowing she could feel the things he didn’t know how to say. Words had never been his strong suit but he would find a way to show her what she already meant to him and that he couldn’t wait to see their relationship grow.

Daisy was good with words, he knew this, but many times she chose to stay quiet using soft touches and expressions to make her feelings known. He wasn’t surprised when she nuzzled against his cheek and pressed soft kisses to his face, making him sigh happily. 

“I trust you, Mattheo,” her breath fanned across his lips as she whispered, “more than logic tells me I should, more than I’ve trusted in a long time. I know trust is hard work, let’s take it day by day, yeah?” 

“Day by day…” He agreed, trying to ignore how worked up the feel of her breath was getting him. You’re in the middle of a tender moment, don’t bring your cock into it. 

She must have seen how hard he was struggling, is she struggling right now, too?, because she pressed her lips to his in a hungry kiss. “Annnnd we slowly work our way up to ravishing each other for days on end.” A blush spread over her cheeks, the cutest thing he had ever seen, and she giggled, hiding her face in his neck. 

He groaned, his cock twitching, hardening. Fuuuck yes! Sliding a hand into her hair he gently pulled, lifting her head. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me. I love the way you blush when you talk about naughty things. Say a few more for me. You really want me to ravish you, princess?” 

She moaned, locking eyes with him, her body shivering as he called her “princess”. Guess that one’s a keeper. My pretty little princess. “Want it? Oh, Mattheo, after the summer I’ve had, wanting you twenty four hours a day, I’m ready to demand it.” She pressed her forehead against his, gritting her teeth and growling softly. “I want to devour you.” 

He didn’t even know what to say, all he could focus on was his cock straining in his pants, begging to be free, to feel her. He groaned desperately and bucked his hips in an attempt to rub against her, getting frustrated when he couldn’t get good friction. “Let go, Daisy, I need to set you down, need to feel you against me.” He gently set her down barely letting her feet touch the ground before forcing her legs apart, hands gripping her hips, and grinding his aching cock against her thigh. 

“What was that about wanting me twenty four hours a day, princess? Is this what you imagined? Did you touch yourself to thoughts of me?” His voice was low with desire, desperate to know if she had done what he had forced himself not to and given in to her lust. Please say you did, baby. Please please please. 

A sweet whimper left her lips as she nodded, looking up at him with her deceptively innocent eyes. “More than I thought possible, so much more…was never enough, needed you…” The way she spoke made it clear that she was getting lost in those thoughts again, her lust clouding her mind, taking over. She gripped his hand, guiding it to her thigh, lifting her leg. He got the hint immediately and slipped his arm under her thigh, spreading her legs open further, giving him full access to her. What he wouldn’t give to pull his cock out and rub it against her folds. Why didn’t I take her back to my dorm? 

“You naughty thing…here I was all summer trying my hardest not to get off to thoughts of you, not wanting to disrespect you. Do you have any idea how difficult that was for me? You’re so fucking perfect, I was desperate for you, Daisy.” Spoken right against her mouth his words came out in hot heavy breaths, he couldn’t hold back his need any longer. “I haven’t cum in months and you’re going to help me fix that. Now.”  He let go of her leg, intending to drag her to his dorm, when a cold voice echoed through the corridor. 

“Mr. Riddle. What are you doing here…ah, Miss Waters.” 

Mattheo froze, groaning with frustration. Snape. Go away, we’re busy. 

He looked down at Daisy, who had frozen in place as soon as her foot touched the ground again, loving the irritated look on her face. He wanted to kiss it right off her face. Hold on, is she growling? The faintest rumble reached his ears, her body the only place it could be coming from.

“Mr. Riddle, go to your dorm. If you’re not there in ten minutes I will inform the headmaster of what I saw here. Miss Waters, I will be informing Professor Sprout so that she may keep an eye on you. Get to your house.” With one final glare Snape turned on his heel, robe billowing out behind him. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry princess, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” Mattheo leaned in and kissed her as soon as Snape was gone, desperate to have just a few more seconds alone with her. “Let’s get you to your dorm, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close as they walked. 

“Don’t worry, Sprout has different views than Snape on two kids making out in a hallway. She’s rather easy going.” She paused for a minute, her face blank as they reached the Hufflepuff house entrance. “How on earth did you manage to hold off, Matty? I felt like I would burst if I didn’t…please myself at least once a day.” 

He felt a blush creep up his neck knowing she had caught him. Do I admit I drew her multiple times a day? Sounds a bit creepy, but if she could confess to touching herself to fantasies about me… “I sketched you. A lot. A lot.” 

She gasped, her eyes lighting up, a grin spreading over her cheeks. “You did not!” She playfully smacked her hand against his chest, giggling. 

“I most certainly did, pretty girl. I’ll show you…if you ask nicely.” He teased her, kissing her neck softly. 

“Oh you want your princess to beg, Matty? I could do that, but you’d never be the same.” She teased right back, her smile turning into a smirk. Fuck. 

“Merlin, you look so good with that little smirk, my naughty girl. So fucking good. Now that you mention it, I do want you to beg. Beg me, Daisy.” He pressed her tighter to him, his lust for her spiking again. 

His stomach flipped, his knees going a little weak as her pretty eyes went wide, a little pout on her perfect lips. “Please, Matty, show me your sketches.” 

He groaned, a broken, needy sound, gripping her chin so she couldn’t look away. “So fucking good for me. How could I ever deny you, pretty girl. I’d do anything for you. All you have to do is ask.” 

She didn’t blush the way he had expected, instead her eyes sparkled mischievously and she smirked at him. “Is that so? Anything at all?” 

“Mhmm.” He nodded, kissing her lips softly, completely lost in her. What are you planning, little one? “What exactly did you have in mind?” 

“Spend the day with me tomorrow.” 

It was such a simple request, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Daisy, I was going to do that anyway-“ She cut him off, her fingers pressed against his lips. 

“I wasn’t done…there’s one more thing I want you to do. I want you to give in. Go get in your bed and think about me. Cum for me, Mattheo.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion, she was demanding this of him and it drove him insane with need for her. “Fuck, princess.” They were the only words he could manage, his mind already swimming with his favorite fantasies about her. 

She giggled, kissing him softly before pulling away. “Goodnight, Matty. Sweet dreams.” 

“Goodnight, pretty girl.” I love you. He watched her disappear into the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room before turning and running to his dorm, eager to obey her.

[evaslytherpuff]

Ominis and Vivian! Hogwarts’ power couple!🐍

I happen to love Ominis with longer hair.🥰 It’s been a while since I made and edited a photo and I was really happy with how this one turned out.

I have more that I need to edit but I really wanted to post this one.😍

[evaslytherpuff]

My emotions were all over the place with this chapter! Well done!😱😱🥰🥰 And Rosier?! Raw, next question.🤭😂

Chapter 16

Sebastian Sallow🔺️F!MC🔺️Leander Prewett

Chapter master list and Ao3

13.5k words. Tags: NSFW / angst / murder / brothel environment / promiscuous behaviour / Gaunt family trauma / alcohol / potion drugs / PTSD

Chapter 16: Thread the Needle

MC 

The fine mist of rain clung to her hair and skin, soaking the dark fabric of her robe and leaving a lingering chill in her bones. Hogsmeade loomed out of the gloom below them, the soft glow of lights eerie in the ghostly dark as she stepped carefully across rough grass and slick rock. Rosier walked quietly beside her, his hand grasping hers as he led her under a few trees towards the rear of the abandoned cottage that clung to the edge of the drop. Hidden by the Disillusionment charm, MC felt like a ghost herself as she eyed the low flickering gleam of a candle in one window. 

It felt strange to allow this man, this Ashwinder, to guide her steps. For all she knew, he could be leading her into one of Rookwood’s traps. While she didn’t trust him, she could only hope that he had some kind of decency behind that pretty face of his as they edged towards a cluster of storage crates under a tree. The ground was carpeted with its fallen leaves, soggy and smelling of early rot as they crouched down behind the largest of the crates. Ahead, two shadowy figures stood near the rough stone steps that led up to the cottage, guarding their captive. 

“Now what?” She whispered, leaning towards where she thought Rosier’s head to be, his scent filling her nose. He moved, head turning towards her and his nose brushed her damp cheek, his breath warm against her chilled skin. 

“Oh, sorry, lovely,” he breathed. “If you wanted to get closer, you only had to say.” 

Screwing her face up, she slapped out a hand at him, making contact. “Stop being such a cad,” she scolded under her breath, receiving a smothered chuckle in response. “Stick to the plan. How do I get to Anne?” 

“Okay, okay. Two guards out front, and likely two more higher up on the hill behind us,” he whispered, keeping a slightly better distance from her ear this time. “It’s also possible Anne isn’t alone inside the house. Luella will have cast her charms. A silencer, and her favourite is one that will allow people to enter, but not exit unless she permits it, trapping them inside until she returns. And she will return. If you cross the threshold, a triggering charm will alert her.” 

He couldn’t see her, but MC gave him a wide eyed look. “Merlin’s beard. She likes her charm work,” she muttered, giving the rundown house another good look over. “I get the impression that Luella Rookwood is a woman who loves control.” 

“She hates anyone getting one over on her,” Rosier whispered. “People are easily fooled by her smile and alluring eyes, but behind that is a viper with the cunning of a fox. Don’t ever underestimate her.” 

“She said something similar when I first met her in the Black Rose,” MC said, remembering how nervous and timid she had felt being out in public that night. She hardened her resolve, her mind ticking quickly as she scoped out the area. “I told her that perhaps she shouldn’t underestimate me. I know I’m small, but I am a true Slytherin to my bones. Like her father said, everyone has their weaknesses. I reckon you must know her reasonably well. Apart from using Sebastian as bait, what else could I do to piss her off?” 

“Are you trying to get us killed here?” He gasped. 

MC shrugged. “I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty, Rosier,” she whispered. “Anything you can tell me will give me an advantage. I’m going to get in that house and speak to Anne. If you want, you can loiter out here and keep an eye open. Luella isn’t going to kill me. Rookwood is my armour against that, but she might not hesitate in taking you down.” 

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, shifting slightly. “You know, I always used to rib Seb for his pickiness with women. He would turn down offers of delectable company, ignore the whores that are always available in our regular haunts, and I was surprised when he finally succumbed to Luella’s charms. I could never understand it, but I think I’m beginning to. He has a type.” 

“A type?” She frowned, turning to him. 

“Crazy, beautiful women, with the emphasis on the crazy,” he replied. 

As much as it galled her to be reminded that Luella had shared Sebastian’s bed, MC wished they could see each other as she smirked. “You have no idea the levels of crazy I am capable of. So, what’s it going to be? Are you coming with me, or playing look out?” 

He sighed. “If this ends up going bad, which I’m fairly sure it will, then someone needs to warn Sebastian. I’ll wait out here.” 

She reached out and grasped his sleeve, holding it tight in her grip. His balance went off kilter slightly, and he bumped against her, so forceful was her tug. “If you double cross me, I’ll hunt you down and end you myself. You wouldn't be the first Ashwinder I put into an early grave.” 

She could hear his breathing, feel the tension in her neck and arms as she kept hold of him. It had been a long time since she had taken on Ashwinders, but there was a building force of anger in her belly. Sick of being pushed around and told what to do by others, she felt the urge to stand her own ground. 

“It's true what some of the old timers say about you, then,” he said, his whisper soft against her temple. “A wisp of a girl who stalked the Forbidden Forest and brought death to their wilderness camps. They called you Bean Nighe, after the banshee omen of death up here in the Highlands. Some of them even left offerings of clothing hidden around the wilds to try and ward you off.” 

Her heart tapped quickly behind her ribs as she listened, remembering the odd array of clothing she had come across on her travels through the forest. “Are you being serious? Why clothing?” 

“The Bean Nighe is said to loiter near streams and wash the clothing of those doomed to die. They thought that by giving you laundry to wash, you wouldn’t be tempted to slit their throats in their sleep. Bean Nighe means washer woman in the old tongue.” 

It could almost be laughable, but she remained still and quiet, absorbing his words as those days began to filter back into memory. She had stalked the forest, alone or with Sebastian, and she had certainly brought down a few poachers and Ashwinders in her time. The old myths of the Highland people were not to be scoffed at. She had come across many in her time here in Scotland, and it seemed there was plenty still to learn. 

“I can’t believe they gave me a nickname,” she whispered. “I’m not sure if I should be honoured, or miffed. I doubt I’m cut out to be a laundry woman.” 

“But you do smite down scoundrels in death,” he whispered, a trace of humour underlying his words. 

“I didn’t take you for a man of learning, Rosier. I’m impressed,” she whispered. 

“Hey, I graduated Hogwarts like a good boy, and I read,” he muttered. “A habit your dear Sebastian encourages in me.” 

“And, there was me thinking you only knew how to drink, pilfer, and fuck your way through life,” she sighed. 

“On those you may consider me an expert,” he chuckled softly. 

MC let his sleeve go, begrudgingly finding herself warming to him. “Well, maybe I won’t threaten to scrub your shirt just yet, but don’t think I won’t if you hex me in the back,” she warned him. 

“What’s your plan?” He asked. 

“You take care of the Ashwinders on the hill, and I will clean up the ones by the steps,” she said, eying the silhouettes in the misty rain. “Then I will have my little chat with Anne.” 

“If you walk in there, you won’t be coming back out,” he reminded her. 

“I can handle myself,” she said, and crept out from behind the crates.

For all her talk on being able to handle herself, and the dark history she shared with the Ashwinders, a strange sense of doom hung about MC as she silently approached the two figures at the head of the steps. It would be all too easy to take them both out, leave them cold on the ground, no longer a problem, but the memory of those black lines marked into Sebastian’s forearm haunted her. His guilt on display for the rest of his days, the darkness she had seen in his eyes when he spoke of it leaving ice to harden on the back of her neck. 

What of her own guilt? 

Grappling with the darkness that lingered in her own soul, she used magic taught to her by a mentor she so dearly missed. When faced with the dangers of goblin camps, Fig had taught her Petrificus Totalus as a means to freeze her enemies so she could safely navigate through the camps. As the Ashwinders fell rigid to the ground, she hoped there would be no regrets in being lenient this time. Dragging their deadweights into the shadows took a great deal more effort, and she was puffing when she finally turned her attention back towards the house.

A dead, gnarled tree loomed over the faded building, the thatch in need of replacement and the wood appeared chipped and weathered. The stable style door was closed, a lantern casting a weak glow over the rain slick stoop. Wand in hand, MC stepped up, dropping her Disillusionment spell, and used the latch for the top half of the door, pushing it tentatively open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond. That seemed easy enough, her heart pounding in her ribs as she listened out for a trigger, or hurrying footsteps, but none came.

The room inside appeared grim, sparsely furnished with broken items, dust and grime coating the walls and floor. The fireplace was cold and bare, the only light seemingly coming from a small candlestick on a shelf near a window. In the corner, huddled and shivering under a dirty blanket, was Anne. 

She lifted her head at the swing of the door, her eyes forming slits of dislike as she spied MC on the other side of it. The irony of the situation had MC tilting her head. This bitch had sent her to a prison far worse than this one, and now MC stood on the edge of freedom, looking in on Anne and wondering if it would be worth her effort to free her. The only cause to move her would be Sebastian, and she wasn’t sure that would be enough. It all depended on how this little meeting turned out. 

Sebastian 

When he had awoken alone in the huge bed, he wondered if he had dreamt his time in the bathroom with MC, the haziness of sleep still clinging to him. He could remember the steamy water of the bath, the bone deep tingle of pain combined with the sensual pleasure of her touch. There had been satisfaction, but a gnawing craving for more curled like flame in his loins. Rolling over under the twisted sheets, he winced at the vague, lingering ache in all of his bones, the effects of his torture still clinging to him. Dusk gave the bedroom a strange glow, a curious sense of foreboding creeping up his neck as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He had slept most of the day, and he had done so alone it seemed. Rubbing a hand absently along his marked forearm, he rose and prepared to dress.

Noctua’s house was dark and quiet, his feet leading him towards the formal lounge where the soft flicker of flames in the fireplace drew him in. The old wood of the furniture was dark, but the soft furnishings lifted the feel of the room, the artwork pleasing. In a wingback chair near the fire, Ominis sat with a glass of whiskey in hand, his wand balanced on his lap. His head tilted in Sebastian’s direction when he entered, his fingers smoothing along the crease in his trousers. 

“You have awoken at last,” he said, graceful fingers gesturing. “Come, sit. We need to talk.” 

“Where is MC?” Sebastian asked, glancing around as he stepped forward. He missed her with an ache, the need to have her close made him itch. 

“She isn’t here,” Ominis said, his voice quiet but laced with an edge that Sebastian knew all too well. He moved towards the opposite chair and sat. “She asked me to wait with you whilst she made enquiries concerning Anne.” 

“I told her to not leave without me,” Sebastian pouted, his hand making a fist. 

“Don’t worry, she is more than capable of raising mayhem on her own without you there to encourage her. All I care about is getting Anne home again,” Ominis said, his mouth twisted sourly. He turned his whiskey glass against his thigh and sighed. “I only hope her stubbornness doesn’t cause more harm than has already transpired.” 

“Anne isn’t exactly pliant,” Sebastian agreed. “She isn’t usually a fool, though.” 

“Whatever it is that vexes her with regards to MC seems to blind her against all else,” Ominis said wearily. “I have tried to talk to her about it, but she becomes rather prickly and claims I wouldn’t understand, and that she has her reasons. Whatever those reasons are, she won’t open up to me about it.” 

The sadness on his face aged him, the shadows from the crackling fire seeming to deepen the exhaustion that hung heavy under his eyes. Ominis carried his own demons, secrets he had shared with the Sallow twins in their childhood, but as they had grown, Ominis withdrew and held his own counsel. Sebastian knew he had tarnished his old friend’s trust with his actions, but he, too, had his reasons, just as Anne claimed she had reasons for whatever truths she held close to her heart. 

“Whatever it is that Anne knows, I’m certain that my parents are involved somehow,” Sebastian said, staring into the flames but not appreciating any warmth they sent into the chilled room. “I’ve been trying to get her to allow me access to their papers, but she refuses. The only reason I can conclude for her refusal, is that she is hiding something. Something that involves MC somehow. I mean, there has to be some explanation as to why Solomon is mentioned in MC's orphan papers, especially as it seems the orphan part is in fact a lie.” 

Ominis rubbed graceful fingers against his lips, his brows drawn. “I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with you,” he said, slowly. He sighed again and took a sip of whiskey, licking his lips. “That's why we need to talk. I haven’t been totally forthcoming in regards to family matters when it comes to MC.” 

He hesitated, shaking his head as he bowed it to his chest. Sebastian leaned forward in his chair. “In what way?” 

“You know my family, Sebastian. They feel no shame when it comes to their actions, and I fear I must bear the burden of carrying their shame, even now after distancing myself from them. Their deeds seem to creep up and hang over me no matter how hard I try to escape it, and now MC is caught up in this web of poison. I haven’t found the words to tell her yet, and so I shamefully hope that you may aid me in this.” 

Sebastian swallowed hard, his palms sweaty as he rubbed them on his thighs. The Gaunt family clung to their pure blood status with pain and death, their closets stuffed full of secrets that would keep the most hardened man awake at night. Growing up and witnessing the trauma that Ominis had to live through had taught Sebastian lessons in resolve and compassion that he would have perhaps never considered if he had never befriended the quiet, lonely boy who sobbed into his pillow every night of their first year. 

His mother had always instilled the value of human kindness into the twins, a trait that had tortured Sebastian with shame ever since he had walked the darker path in life. He knew she would be horrified with his actions, and he begged for her forgiveness when the grief came to visit on long, lonely nights. He struggled to remember the boy she had known, too much time and darkness had passed since she had left him, and he must stand in the misery of his own making now. Her lessons, however, still lay embedded in his mind, and it was this that had him leaving his chair and kneeling on the rug at Ominis’ feet. 

He took the other man’s hand, unashamed to do so, even after all the years since they had grown into men. As boys, he would creep into the bed of his weeping dorm mate and hold him until his shivering would stop. Now, beside the dancing fire in the quiet of his dead aunt’s house, Sebastian offered a comforting hand to his old friend, and it was taken with a squeeze of cold fingers. 

“There is no shame in asking for help, Omi. Especially from me, you should know that,” Sebastian assured him. “I know I’m a thorn in your side sometimes, but I’m always your friend. What is it you need to tell MC?” 

“It’s about her father,” Ominis said, darkness shadowing his face, his sightless eyes shifting from side to side as he sought the words. “William Brierley. He was a Muggle, and came from a non-magical family. My grandfather was incensed when he discovered that Aunt Elizabeth had taken up with him, and sought retribution in the only way Gaunts know how to deal with things like that.” 

“They killed him,” Sebastian said flatly, his shoulders drooping as he shook his head in disgust. 

“Not just him,” Ominis said, his voice laden with despair. “They wiped out his entire bloodline for daring to taint ours. For William’s so-called insult of putting a babe in Aunt Elizabeth’s belly, the Brierley family were all murdered in cold blood. And what’s worse, they wanted to destroy the baby, too. It was a filthy half blood, a taint on the Gaunt name, but Elizabeth defied them, and Noctua helped her.” 

“They…they tried to kill MC?” Sebastian choked, his face paling under his freckles. “How in Merlin’s name did she survive?” 

“I’m not entirely sure on all the finer details, but it appears that Noctua sought help from something she referred to as The Circle. I’m not sure who, or what, that means. The first I knew of any of this was when I came here to find information on MC’s behalf,” he said sadly, reaching for a leather journal on the end table beside the chair. He held it up, his regret carving the lines around his mouth into harsh shadows. “I took this journal into my possession whilst I grappled with the horror of my family’s capabilities. I always believed Aunt Elizabeth’s child to be dead, but I had no idea that my own family could have been responsible. No wonder she fled. I am ashamed to present my findings to MC. What kind of welcome to my family is it when I have to tell her what they did?” 

“This is not your fault, Ominis,” Sebastian insisted, keeping a firm hold on his hand whilst grappling with this new information. “MC knows a little about what you have endured at the hands of your family, their actions are nothing new to her, and you know that she would likely discover the truth somehow, with or without your help. I do not see her blaming you in any way for the actions of those who came before you. She cares about you, Ominis. I know she does.” 

“That’s as may be, Sebastian, but it does not take away any of the shame it gives me to bear the Gaunt name,” he said, a hint of that sad boy gleamed in the depths of his pale eyes. “The name may open some doors for me, but it also casts a long shadow over me. I do wonder if I should have forsaken my birth name and taken up yours when I married your sister.” 

“It matters not that you didn’t,” Sebastian said firmly. “You are my family, along with Anne, and MC. The four of us are bound in ways that nobody else can take away from us. The girls may both be stubborn, but we can handle them.” 

A scoff of dry humour escaped Ominis’ lips. “Speak for yourself,” he said. “You are just as stubborn and foolish. I feel like the only sane one around here sometimes, and that’s a doubtful thing to boast over. I fear the demons that stalk my head.” 

“We all have our demons, Ominis. The trick is to not let them win. Do not doubt your place in our lives. We would be lost without you,” Sebastian said affectionately. “Don’t worry about MC, either. It will work out in the end, you’ll see.” 

MC

“Hello, Anne,” MC said, remaining at the door, peering into the dim room but not making any attempt to step inside. 

Anne huddled tighter under the dirty blanket, leaning against the wall. Her pallor was deathly pale, dark circles ringing her eyes. “Where is Sebastian?” 

“He was too weak to come. Ominis is with him.” 

Anne winced. “Is he…is he okay?” 

It would be all too easy to torment her and ignore the glint of concern on her face, but MC wanted her to talk. “He could be better, but you know him. He still insisted on trying to come here with me to find you. I left him sleeping. He needs the rest. As do you, by the looks of it.” 

Anne scowled and turned her head away. “I’m just fine.” 

“Like two bloody peas in a pod, both ridiculously stubborn,” MC muttered, digging into a pocket to retrieve a Wiggenweld. She placed it on top of the closed lower part of the door. “Here, this will help.” 

“Why would I want any help from you?” Her voice was strained, bitter, but she eyed the little bottle on the ledge. “You’re the reason I’m even here in the first place.” 

MC sighed, her brow furrowing as frustration began to blister under her skin. “What did I ever do to make you hate me, Anne? You’re so bitter, so twisted and intent on hating me that you don’t seem to care how it hurts your own brother in the process. You act like I really did kill your uncle, when we both know I did no such thing.” 

“I’m trying to protect my brother!” She hissed, leaning forward and placing her hand to support herself against the filthy floorboards. She was so thin and frail, her skin stretched tight over the bones of her face like some pathetic creature. Only her eyes blazed with fire and spirit. “You are a poison in our lives, and I won’t stop until we can be rid of you and your destructive magic.” 

The frustration mounted and MC grit her teeth. Sebastian was fixated on saving Anne, and Anne was fixated on saving Sebastian, and yet they seemed more destined to destroy each other rather than actually fix anything. It didn’t stop Anne’s words touching a nerve, though. The Sallows had problems before MC arrived in their lives, but had she come along and really made a negative impact? The niggling doubt began to creep down the back of her neck, that ever present fear that her darkness could infect others. She could feel the sleeping fury of her magic shifting restlessly in her blood, and the growing bitter resentment towards it made her fists clench at her sides. 

“Did Solomon ever talk about me to you?” MC dropped the question, the words heavy in the damp air. Anne stiffened, her mouth a tight line. “He knew who I was before I even arrived at Hogwarts, he knew I was related to Ominis, too.” 

“Shut up,” Anne snapped, her fingers like claws on the blanket. Her face screwed up in a spasm of pain and she curled in upon herself, biting back a groan. Her arm movement was jerky as she rubbed her hand against her stomach. Not only did she have her curse, but her limbs must ache from the torture. MC knew the feeling well enough. 

With an exasperated sigh, she levitated the potion bottle and sent it in towards Anne, dropping it before her. “Would you just take the potion? It will help.” 

“I don’t need your help,” Anne insisted through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, swallow down that fucking pride of yours and just take the potion,” MC snapped. “I didn’t come all the way here just to return to Ominis and tell him what a stubborn bitch you are. He already knows that.” 

Anne grabbed up the potion bottle and hurled it against the wall with a pained cry. It smashed, the healing liquid running tracks through the dirt on the walls as it pooled on the floor. MC watched, a flicker of rage igniting in her stomach. A small part of her mind fancied that she might understand, remembering the bitter feeling that had owned her inside Azkaban, and how she had tried to shove Leander away when he tried to help. But, she had suffered years in darkness compared to this. Anne just seemed to be filled with hate. 

“Suit yourself,” MC said coldly, glaring at Sebastian’s twin as she whimpered under her blanket. “Stay here and rot for all I care. I will just tell Ominis I couldn’t find you. I’m sure the Ashwinders will have their fun with you. Goodbye Anne.” 

She turned from the door, leaving the top open so that the cold wind could blow the fine mist of rain into the house. She’d gone two strides before Anne’s pitiful wail sounded from within. 

“Wait!” 

MC paused and sighed, tilting her face up to the rain. She blinked, her lashes thick with moisture. She wished she could see the stars. She wished she could turn off all her emotions for a while, they were such heavy things to drag around with her all the time. Turning back to the door, she debated ignoring Anne. She could just walk away, act like it wasn’t really her problem to deal with. But, then she thought about Sebastian’s eyes, the soft part of her heart clenching as she imagined him having to deal with the loss of another person. Never having a true family of her own, MC shivered at the thought of how it must feel to lose someone that valuable after knowing them for so long. 

Would either Ominis or Sebastian ever forgive her if she left Anne here and she died? Would she forgive herself despite the hatred this woman threw at her? 

As she stood there debating her choices, a hunched figure appeared against the lonely light of the candle in the room, a thin, pale hand grasped the lower half of the door. MC shuddered as she imagined the cold iron of Azkaban cell doors, the horrific scream that had torn from her own throat when Leander had left her that day, alone in her cell with no hope to cling to. 

Digging a hand into her pocket, she took out another Wiggenweld, cold fingers smoothing over the bottle before she walked back and placed it on the door ledge before Anne. “I am not your enemy, Anne,” she said softly. “Despite everything you have done to me. I am not your enemy.” 

Anne was trembling so hard she could barely pick up the bottle, but her chin held a stubborn tilt, and her eyes gleamed with unmoving will. Slowly, she drank the potion, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she placed the bottle back on the ledge. She eyed MC, her face seeming to shift into hard resignation. 

“My mother was an extraordinarily clever witch,” Anne said, adjusting the shawl around her frail shoulders. “Sebby worshipped the ground she walked upon. Something died in him when she was taken from us. He has never been the same, no matter how hard I tried to bring that light back for him, I could never be what she was to him.” 

MC swallowed, remaining quiet and still as Anne spoke. It made her heart clench to hear her speak of Sebastian in that way, imagining a small boy bereft and grieving. 

“I didn’t understand back then. We were just kids,” Anne continued, her dark eyes glazing with tears. “They said it was the lamps that killed them both. Our parents died in our basement, slumped in their chairs at their desks. Everything was laid out as though they were both taking a quick nap, and would wake soon to carry on with whatever they were working on. I can still hear Sebastian screaming as he tried to wake mother up, but of course, she would never wake up again, never turn that warm smile on us. We were alone.” 

Anne swiped a tear from her cheek, her eyes hardening as she looked at MC. “Now I know it wasn’t the lamps. My parents were meticulous people, they wouldn’t have fitted those fancy gas lamps without doing their research first. They would have known the risks, and wouldn’t have been caught out like that,” she said bitterly. “No, it wasn’t the lamps that killed them, and when I was old enough to ask questions, Uncle Solomon finally told me the truth. Our parents were silenced. Their research had taken darker turns, and they were sticking their noses into something much bigger, and more dangerous, that led to their deaths. Uncle Solomon kept insisting it was Ministry business, and that I shouldn’t meddle, but I wasn’t going to just forget about it now, was I? So I did some digging of my own.” 

A coldness seeped into MC’s bones that had nothing to do with the rain soaked robe she wore, or the damp strands of her hair that clung to her forehead and neck. 

“I began to read my parent’s research in secret,” Anne continued. “Research that led me to the old ruins at the edge of Feldcroft. It was there that I found the portrait of an ancient witch, a witch that was mentioned many times in my mother’s writings. When I finally managed to get her talking to me, and she discovered what year I was living in, all she wanted to talk about was a young girl who would be coming to Hogwarts with a special gift. At first, I didn’t know what she meant, and just when I was getting her to finally talk about more interesting things, Rookwood and his goblin friends destroyed the place.” 

She paused, her hands clenched tightly on the wood of the door, her breaths shallow and ragged. “That’s why I ran up there that night,” she said, her eyes desperate. “I ran up there to save the portrait, because if it was destroyed, then I wouldn’t be able to speak with her any more. Rookwood caught me trying to haul it away. Not only did he curse me, but he scorched the painting, utterly destroying it. Of course, the bitter irony in his pettiness is that he ruined the perfect link to ancient magic knowledge that he craved.”

Nausea swirled in MC’s stomach as she listened, wide eyed, to Anne’s tale. She shook her head, almost numb with shock. “You spoke with Isadora?” 

Anne huffed with dry amusement. “I bet that makes you sick, doesn’t it? To know I got to speak with her, when all along, all she ever wanted was to speak with you. Did you know she left a trail for you to follow? She said you would be the only one to see it, that your gift of magic would lead you to where you needed to be. It would take you right to her portrait so that she could guide you. Must have been an awful shame to get there and find it ruined. I suppose that’s one thing I could thank Rookwood for if nothing else.” 

MC shook with her contained fury. “But, why would keeping this knowledge from me bring you any satisfaction? I don’t understand. You can’t even see ancient magic. What difference does it make to you?” 

“What difference does it make?” Anne sneered, huffing in disbelief. “Do you not realise what you are? Surely, you must have learned enough about Isadora to discover how dangerous she was? How are you any different? I mean, ever since you’ve arrived you have caused nothing but trouble. People die around you, people destroy everything around them just to get to you, and my own brother covets you so desperately that he is slowly destroying whatever light was left inside of him after mother died just to keep you in his life. I won’t let you do that to him! I can’t! You stole my parents from me, I won’t let you take him, too!” 

“You blame me for your parent’s deaths?” MC choked, taking a step back from the door, her mind whirling. 

“They were researching ancient magic, and they dug too deeply,” Anne said, her face a pale mask of hate. “They were silenced. All because of your magic. Everything bad that has happened in our lives centres around ancient magic, and you are stuffed full of it, still bringing death and pain to our lives no matter how hard I try to get rid of you. You wanted to know why I hate you so much, well now you know.” 

“Who silenced them?” MC asked, her lips almost numb with shock as she stared at Anne through the hazy mist of rain.

Anne shrugged. “No idea, but Isadora kept mentioning Keepers. She didn't seem to like them very much. Does that mean anything to you?” 

MC felt the blood drain from her face, she even stumbled a little, her head spinning with shock. The Sallows had been researching ancient magic, and had a wealth of information in their files. They were killed for it. Anne had known all this time, hoarding this information and stewing on her hate. To think she had spoken with Isadora. MC had longed for that, staring at the empty triptych for many hours wishing she could have had five minutes with her, just to speak to someone else who would understand how it felt to have this power burning in your blood. 

The paths of fate were twisted far tighter than she could have imagined. She swiped rain water from her face, blinking rapidly as she tried to process all this new information. “And Solomon knew all this? Is that why he tried to kill me?” 

Anne laughed, a cold, cruel sound. “When Sebastian used the relic, Solomon told me to lure you up there into those tombs. It was meant to be an accident, terribly unfortunate, a new student losing control of magic she had not learned to wield correctly. He would have been doing his duty as an Auror, taking you in as a high risk liability. We would get Sebastian out and away from you, and he would get over you in time. The only thing we didn’t account for was how far gone Sebastian was over you. We didn’t expect him to turn on one of his own. Nobody was supposed to die that day, MC, but Sebastian made his choice. He chose you and your magic over his own blood.” 

“His own blood, who would beat him and ridicule him, treat him like he was nothing,” MC exclaimed, staggered at Anne’s confession. “Did you not know the abuse your brother suffered at Solomon’s hands? Or did you cover your ears and pretend it wasn’t happening? As long as Anne was alright, fuck everyone else! And you claim to love your brother and say you want to protect him from me? I would never hurt him like that, never!” 

“You will destroy him in the end, though, won’t you?” She said, her voice eerily calm. “Isadora told me about her father, and what she did for him. Destroyed him with her kindness, sucked out his emotions, all the things that made him human, and left him a shell of himself. Then, she started doing it to students, and these Keepers killed her in the end. To hear her talk about it, she saw herself as some kind of hero, but I think she might have been a tad crazy. Is that what the future holds for you, MC? You’re already a killer, stalking around with Ashwinders, an ex-convict that nobody will ever trust. The magic will corrupt you in the end, too, and I hope you’re begging for death by the end.” 

Anne’s words raked over deep rooted fears, turned over stones of memories that MC didn’t want to look at. She shuddered, her magic bristling under her skin. 

“Your brother loves you. All this time he has been destroying himself to try and cure you. That has nothing to do with me,” MC said, shaking her head. She gripped her wand, fighting back the blistering urge to hex the pathetic creature on the other side of the door. “He would give up his own soul for you, and yet you are nothing but a cold hearted, bitter and twisted shrew. You don't deserve any of the sacrifices he makes for you. If anyone is going to make you lose Sebastian, it is yourself.” 

“I wouldn't expect you to understand,” Anne said, her eyes narrowing. “Never underestimate the love between twins.” 

MC took another step back from the house, dangerously close to the drop off behind her. The breeze whipped her robe around her legs, and the rain was relentless as it misted against her face. She didn't even notice any of it, so lost in her cold shock that even Rosier was beside her before she realised it. 

Jolting as he grabbed her elbow, she stilled as he bent to whisper in her ear, his movement the merest flicker in the spray of rain under his Disillusionment spell. “What are you doing? Are you getting her out, or what?” 

MC gave a slight shake to her head, her eyes fixed on Anne in the doorway. “I…no. Let her rot.” 

Anne frowned. “Who are you talking to?” 

MC's boot slid back as though to take another step, and she would have tumbled off the edge of slick rock to the cemetery below if not for Rosier’s grip on her elbow. “Woah, easy. What are you doing?” He hissed. “We need to leave. Are we taking her with us, or not?” 

MC took one last look at Anne and shivered. “Let’s get out of here,” she muttered. “There is no helping her.” 

“Where do you want to go?” He asked. 

“You say you're an expert on getting drunk, and I need a bloody strong drink,” she said, shrugging, unsure if she really cared where she went. She felt numb, empty, as though something had snapped inside of her. “Surprise me.” 

Rosier pulled her closer into his warmth, and this time she didn't shrink back or slap him away from her. It felt oddly freeing to let him take the lead, her head spinning from all of this mess, unable to think straight. She leant into him as the rain soaked gloom of Hogsmeade disappeared from view in a swirl of black. 

Sebastian 

Turning the page of Noctua’s journal, he rubbed his face with a hand and shook his head, closing the leather bound book with a soft slap. Written by Noctua’s own hand, the sad truth about MC’s origins were right there on the parchment. He had memorised the village where William Brierley’s family had come from, fixing it firmly in his mind so that he could investigate further. Their bodies had to be buried near where they lived and died, and he had a mind to take MC there. 

Sitting by the light of a lamp, he looked up as Ominis crossed the room, his wand aloft and blinking red. In his other hand he carried a file. He hesitated before holding it out to Sebastian. 

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am about showing you this, but in all honesty, I think you ought to see it. Maybe you can make some sense of it,” Ominis said, biting his lip. Sebastian took the file, asking what it was. Ominis continued. “The papers within belong to Anne. As for what it all means, I am at a loss. All I can say is that they terrify me.” 

Sebastian paused, about to open the file, and stared up at Ominis. “Terrify you?” 

“I fear for her,” he whispered. He jabbed his wand in the general direction of Sebastian’s hands clutching the folder. “Take a look and you will see.” 

Opening the file, he found a stack of loose parchments. The top sheet was covered in black charcoal, random scribbles resembling dark masses that seemed to make no sense. There were a few more of these, some of them with the words ‘agony’, and ‘pain’ scrawled around the swirling lines. Sebastian stared at the drawings, a lead weight settling in his stomach. He glanced up at Ominis. “Anne did these?” 

Ominis nodded, his hand clasped at his chin. “There were loads of them, all stuffed into a drawer in our house, along with parchments of writing that rambled on about how empty she felt, how the only thing that kept her going was the thought of vengeance. I thought she was happy. I thought I made her happy, but…”

Sebastian could hear the fear in his old friend’s voice, and felt it himself like chunks of ice sliding down his spine. He rifled through the parchments in his hands, more drawings of agonised faces, dark shadow figures looming over little stick people holding hands. There were hand written lines about how it felt like her insides were being eaten away, that she vowed to remember all the warnings that Uncle Solomon had whispered to her, that she would never forget how special she was to him even though he was gone. 

Sebastian shivered, nausea pushing at his throat as he remembered how Solomon would fawn over Anne, always having a protective arm around her shoulders. The drawings were dark and foreboding, tortured scribblings from a mind lost in revenge and pain. He didn’t even realise he was crying until his tears blotted the parchment, lifting the charcoal to darken them into powdery whirlpools. 

“Good gods,” he rasped, looking up at Ominis. “What does this mean?” 

“I was hoping you might be able to tell me,” he said weakly. His lips trembled. “I always knew she struggled. She was never the same after the curse touched her. Maybe it has warped her mind, I don’t know. She is so angry all the time, and she is fixated on MC in a way that frightens me, Sebastian. I feel like I am losing the girl I fell in love with, and I don’t know how to get her back.” 

Sebastian stared down at the drawings, brow furrowed, his mind shifting through hundreds of memories of reading book upon book about dark curses. It was possible that Anne’s curse had warped her thoughts, much like the repetitive casting of dark magic leaving behind a residue of itself on a person. Sebastian was highly conscious of such a thing, more than aware that his misdeeds could catch up to him one day. He had figured it was worth the risk, but looking at these drawings from the tortured mind of his twin, it terrified him to think that he could lose himself in such a way. 

Anne had always been the stronger one of them both, she had been the one who picked them both up after their parent’s deaths, she was his rock. He had been so desperate to cure her and get that sister back, that perhaps he hadn’t been paying attention to the real problem. What if Anne had been slowly losing her mind to the curse as well as suffering with pain? Fear gripped him like grindylow claws.

What if it was already too late? 

MC 

The edges of her vision appeared fuzzy as though she was looking through a cloud, but it was a warm golden cloud, lit by the glow of the coloured glass lamps that were scattered throughout the bar. There was a feeling of weightlessness about her limbs, as though she could stretch out and float on the very air itself. Her blood was heated through, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glassy as she giggled, a hand pressed to her lips. She stared into a pair of pretty eyes, still giggling, and all the shadows that stalked at her back seemed very far away right now. 

“It’s not that funny,” Rosier said, swirling his whiskey in his glass before knocking it back. He put the glass back down on the table with a bang, sending another wave of giggles out of MC’s mouth as two sour faced crones glared their way from a nearby table. Rosier smirked and pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, you’re going to get us thrown out on our arses.” 

MC grasped his wrist, almost missing in her effort, and hauled him closer towards her. He grunted in surprise, his fair hair falling into his eyes, and she chuckled again. “This place is a boring, old dump anyway,” she slurred. “Take me somewhere that’s more fun. I need cheering up.” 

Rosier brushed his hair back, his eyes so very close to hers, a mischievous glint in those baby blues. “I’m beginning to think you’re a bad influence, little chosen one,” he smirked. 

“Are you complaining, pretty boy? I thought you were supposed to be fun,” she whispered to him, one finger pushing up under his chin. He licked his lips.

“I am most definitely not complainin’,” he said, his gaze dipping to her mouth. “Let’s get out of here. I know just the place.” 

They stumbled out into the dark street, somewhere in the belly of old London. MC had no idea where she was, and right now she didn’t care. The weight of her problems had been crushing her, pinning her down in a way that made it almost impossible to breathe. Everywhere she turned, she faced reminders of it all, and she needed to escape. The warm arm around her waist holding her up was a good start. 

Pressing herself against Rosier, she let him lead her down the pavement. He was singing to himself, or maybe to her, she wasn’t sure. Either way, her smile split her flushed face, and she burst into more giggles as he swept her into a waltz along the path. With him, she didn't need to worry about her guilt, or her fears. With him, there was just the drink and the night, and it was all she felt ready to handle right now. 

“Is this fun enough for you?” He asked, nuzzling into her neck. His whiskey soaked breath was hot against her skin and she shivered, her mind spiralling through images of Sebastian, then Leander, flipping back to Sebastian again. 

“This is very improper, Mr Rosier,” she giggled, shoving all rational thought aside. She didn’t want to think.

His chuckle was dark, playful, his lips daring to graze against her skin. “Mm, you just wait, sweetheart. Hold that thought.” 

She shrieked as he spun her around, laughing freely until she felt a familiar sharp tug behind her navel. They vanished from the street, landing in another that was paved with rain slicked cobbles. They stumbled, slipping on the wet ground and laughing loudly, still wrapped in each other’s arms. MC blinked blearily, squinting up at a painted sign of little white flowers threaded around a needle. 

“Where are we?” She mumbled, clutching at the front of Rosier’s coat. 

He smiled and caught hold of her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. “The Alyssum. Just an exclusive little club I like to attend every now and then,” he said. The soft glow of a red lamp illuminated his pretty face. “It’s the ideal place to thread the needle.” 

A furrow appeared on her brow and she blinked a few times, her gaze lifting once more to the painted sign above their heads. “What does that mean?” 

“Oh, MC, you are just too fucking cute,” he grinned. He kissed the tip of her nose and walked her towards a dark doorway. “Allow me to introduce you to the fun side of wizarding London, my darling.” 

Two huge, cloaked men stepped from the shadows, startling MC and making her utter a small cry of surprise. Rosier held on to her, smiling amiably at the doormen. “Good evening, fine sirs,” he said, offering them a little bow that had MC giggling again. 

“Back again so soon, Mr Rosier?” One of them smirked, stepping aside to allow them access. “And with a little friend in tow. Don’t upset our sweet Leina, now.” 

“Who is Leina?” MC asked, peering up into the shadowed hood of the doorman. 

“The sweetest flower in the garden,” Rosier said, pushing open the door and leading MC inside. 

The tinkling of a piano reached her ears, and the low sultry singing of a woman. The air was thick with the scent of incense and cigarettes, the lighting low and sensual as they walked a dark hallway towards a large bar area. MC gaped as she stared around the space. From the outside, this place had looked nothing more than a service building, perhaps a warehouse. Inside, it was like a palace. 

Chandeliers hung from the domed ceiling, drapes of white and red fabric cascading in gorgeous twists added a softness to the exposed brick and dark wood. Brass fixtures gleamed in the lamp light, patrons huddled into exclusive booths with deep red leather seating, and everywhere you looked were pots, huge and small, all containing lush greenery. The bar curved along one side, glittering with bottles and glasses in all colours and shapes, waiters and waitresses in silk waistcoats carrying trays of drinks and delectable snacks sauntered here and there. 

Perhaps most jaw dropping of all was the raised dais in the centre of the room, circular and arranged with slender brass poles where half naked men and women draped themselves languidly in erotic movements that made MC’s mouth go dry, her cheeks and neck heating as her eyes devoured the soft curves and elicit planes of their bodies. 

“Merlin’s balls,” she breathed, her gaze flying everywhere, trying to absorb everything through the haze of gin she had consumed. 

They were walking towards an empty booth, each little alcove of seating arranged around the raised dais to afford a perfect view of the dancers. MC kept glancing over her shoulder, half expecting someone to grab her and tell her she shouldn’t be here, but nobody came, nobody stopped her as Rosier swiped a fluted glass from a tray and pressed it into her hand. Keeping the theme of the evening alive, MC took a sip of the amber liquid, the warm sweetness exploding on her tongue. 

“Mmm, what’s this?” She asked, swiping a finger along her lower lip. 

“Liquid desire,” Rosier murmured into her ear. “Drink up, my lovely. Trust me, it will feel good.” 

MC took another sip, the drink warming her from the inside out, a tingling fire spreading along her limbs and making her lips curve upwards into a lazy smile. He was right. It did feel good. Two girls in satin corsets and stockings wandered past, twirling their curled hair and giving Rosier a little wave. 

“Hello, Leo,” the red head giggled, turning her shoulder provocatively. 

“Ladies,” he winked. 

MC glanced between them, lifting her eyebrows at Rosier. “First name terms?” 

His smile was blazing. “I told you, this is one of my favourite haunts,” he said, gesturing towards the vacant booth. “Shall we?” 

The booth was deceptively intimate and low lit, the table polished to a high shine with a basket of potion bottles in the centre of it. MC scooted herself along the leather seat, placing down her drink and reaching for the basket as Rosier slid in beside her, his arm draping around her shoulders. She held up one of the little bottles, squinting at the label. 

“Amortentia?” She said, frowning. She glanced at Rosier. “Isn’t that a love potion?” 

He nodded, his fingertips trailing up the side of her neck, making her throat work double time as that languid warmth from the drink lingered in her blood. His smile was pure sin. Addictive. 

“I don’t think people come here to fall in love,” she slurred doubtfully, looking out at the carnal display on offer. 

He leaned closer, turning her face back to his. He seemed hungry for her attention, keeping her focused on him. “People come here to escape. They can be whoever they want, do whatever they please, and it stays within these walls,” he said softly, his touch dragging down the column of her throat, his eyes dark. “You want to experience something new? You can do that here. Maybe you want to be in love for an hour or two, or maybe you want to just forget and lose yourself in the arms of a warm body for the night. Here, you can spend the night in fascination, and time will bend to your desires.” 

“You make it sound so easy,” she whispered, the music teasing at her ears, the shadows welcoming her into their embrace in the darkness of the booth. She stared at Rosier, and through the alcohol haze, she could see how easy it would be to fall into his arms. Gorgeous, dangerous, and silver tongued. He was the ultimate charmer, and he knew it. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, admiring the full curve of his lower lip, slightly parted and damp from the drink of liquid desire he had swallowed.

He stroked her cheek, slow and gentle. “You have got to stop looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “I made a promise, and it’s fucking killing me trying not to break it.” 

“What kind of promise?” She asked, leaning forward and not even realising it. Her hand pressed against his thigh to steady herself, and he hissed in a breath. 

“Shit,” he breathed, biting his lip as he looked down between them. “If I lay one finger on you, Seb will kill me so slowly I will be begging for Death to come and save me.” 

He wanted her. Alcohol made her bold, perhaps even reckless. She figured Rosier’s weakness was women, easily distracted by a pretty face and a seductive smile. If you pushed all the right buttons, you could have him right where you wanted him. Curious about her theory, MC took his hand that lingered near her cheek and dragged his fingers towards her mouth. His eyes darkened as her lips slid along his index finger, her tongue teasing against the tip of it. “Oops,” she giggled, lowering his hand. “Does that count? Naughty, Rosier. Or should I call you Leo?” 

He groaned, adjusting his trousers in his lap with a pained expression. “You can call me a bloody dead man,” he said, shaking his head. His finger traced her lower lip, his gaze hungry. He tilted his head, leaning as though to kiss her, but then paused, his eyes hypnotic and so very close. 

“You’re fucking dangerous,” he murmured. “A true siren sent to tempt me.”

The amusement faded from her face, a stab of reality slicing through the glowing haze that flooded her body. “You really want to keep your promise, don’t you? You and Sebastian are that close?” 

“I don’t pretend to know everything about him, but I know that he is one of the rare good ones,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he brushed her hair back from her forehead. “He says little, but what he does say carries weight if you’re paying attention. He has told me only a few bits and pieces about you, but from the way he speaks about you, the look in his eyes when he thinks nobody is paying attention... I think he would tear the world apart with bleeding hands for you, and while I do adore a beautiful woman, and you are a rare and delectable young lady, MC. I’m not going to lure you into bed. I promised I would only look, not touch. So, drink up your liquid desire, and bless me with that intoxicating laugh of yours a little more, darling. I intend to take my fill with eyes only, and damn Sebastian for being a lucky son of a bitch in seeing you first.” 

“An Ashwinder with a conscience,” she said, staring into his eyes. “Do I dare to believe it?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he smiled. “I’ve got a fearsome reputation to uphold.” 

“Hmm, me too,” she said, returning his smile. “Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.” 

“And I can trust you, can I?” He asked, his finger sliding down into the hollow of her throat with a touch as gentle as feathers. 

“I don’t even trust myself,” she admitted softly. 

Damn him for getting under her skin and making her like him. He was just too charming for his own good, reminding her a little of the Sebastian she had known as a girl before things had turned dark. It was barely a few inches to lean forward and press her mouth to his in a soft kiss, the briefest of touches, just a little taste of sin, and yet the effects of the heady drink made her whole mouth tingle at the simple act. Lifting her face just enough to meet his eyes again, she could see the way his pupils had dilated, and feel his hot breath on her cheeks. 

“Call that a freebie,” she whispered. “And a thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For keeping your promise to Seb,” she said, shifting back from him and reaching for her drink. She held up the glass, and he lifted his, touching the glass to hers with a clear ringing sound. “And for making me forget the utter shit show of my life for a while.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, nodding. He raised his glass higher. “To absent friends and getting shit faced.” 

She lifted her glass, laughter bursting from her lips. “To getting shit faced.” 

She tipped the glass back, downing the rest of the liquid desire, closing her eyes and allowing the warmth to swallow her up. Just for a while, she wanted to forget. She wanted to drift, allowing her muscles to relax as the music played, and a warm hand drifted down to wrap fingers around hers. When she opened her eyes, a gorgeous woman in green silk was leaning over their table, her gaze dark and seductive. A scar decorated the side of her face, but it only added to her mysterious allure.

“Well, if it isn’t the most gorgeous flower in the garden,” Rosier grinned, holding out his hand to the newcomer. “Leina, I want you to meet a special friend of mine…”

Leander 

Propped up against the pillows of his own bed, Leander sifted through the case files spread out on his blankets before him, picking up the one that held the wanted profiles of notable Ashwinders. He pulled out the one of Luella Rookwood, a photograph of her taken when she had been a student at the Beauxbatons Academy staring up at him. Pretty and innocent looking as a student, he couldn’t help but shiver as he remembered the cold maiden who had struck him and Ivy down in the tunnels inside the cliffs at Dover. 

He rubbed an absent hand against his mended ribs as though he could still feel the agony of every breath. He was all healed now, declared physically fit enough to return to his duties, but his mother had insisted on fussing over him once he had been discharged from St Mungo’s hospital. She had cooked him a meal, sorted through his laundry that had turned up a chemise belonging to MC, the offending piece of clothing being held up between his mother’s pincered fingers with a questioning glance. His furious blush had told his mother all she needed to know, and she had folded the chemise neatly with a smirk. 

He had dreaded any questions that would come, but his mother had refrained, saving him the awkward challenge of having to lie. Under no circumstances could he tell her about MC. She would forever remain his secret, a love he had found and lost under the shadows of her existence, a warm memory he would cherish for the rest of his life. A life he needed to get back to. 

The news of Anne Gaunt being taken by the Ashwinders had sent the Auror Office into a fresh frenzy as they dispatched a team to try and track down the whereabouts of any new campsites. Harrington had been on to Leander as soon as he had been given the all clear by his Healer. MC was sure to know something, and Leander needed to get it out of her.  A furious Ominis had stormed into the Auror Office demanding action, pulling rank as a member of the Wizengamot. Leander couldn’t help but feel a modicum of relief at being absent for that spectacle. 

As he made some more notes in his little book, his eyes growing sleepy as he began to tidy the files ready to return to the office tomorrow, his gaze fell upon the file that sat separate on his nightstand. The file that Andrew Larson kept filling with his findings in the archives. A file that would remain another secret to be kept from his colleagues. Sighing, he got up from the warmth of his bed and tucked his work files neatly away in a satchel before returning to bed, picking up the secret file as he settled back against his pillows. 

Gods, he missed her. 

He opened the file, the top piece of parchment revealing the birth record that proved MC to be born of the Gaunt bloodline. He thought about the woman who had come to his hospital room posing as a nurse, just so she could get close to him. Her cool hands had touched his arm, her eyes assessing him as he pieced together the truth. Elizabeth Gaunt was alive and well, and he had asked to see MC as soon as possible, wanting to tell her what had happened. She had replied, but there had been no word since. 

Anxiety tightened his chest as he reached for the secret communication parchment he kept close at all times. Touching his wand to it, the earlier message she had sent requesting information about the Circle of Avalon appeared in her looping script. With Anne still missing, and no word from MC, he wondered if he would get any sleep at all despite the tiredness pinching at his eyes. 

Her message faded from the page, but as he was about to refold the parchment, words began to appear once more. The script was definitely MC’s, but it was scrawled roughly, sloping and messy. “Things got too dark. I tried to escape. Bad idea. The world is spinning. Am drunk as a skunk…” 

The spelling was atrocious, the words spaced unevenly, suggesting that she was indeed, very drunk. He sat up, the tightness in his chest growing worse as he reached for his quill, dripping ink onto the bedsheet in his haste. 

“Where are you?” 

His words soaked into the paper and he waited, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh. He stared but no reply came. Agitated, and certain that she must be alone to be messaging him like this, he threw back the covers and began to change into his clothes. He did his shirt up incorrectly because he kept his eyes on the parchment, huffing in annoyance as he had to undo it and start again. Pulling a warm, knitted jumper over his head, he pushed his hand hurriedly through his hair and snatched up the parchment as a reply came through. 

“The Alyssum. I think. A club. Half naked people.”

Leander stared at her reply, stunned for a moment. The Alyssum was an exclusive nightclub, expensive and scandalous. What in Merlin’s name was she doing there? Folding the parchment and stuffing it into his pocket, he grabbed his wand and blew out the lamp. Grabbing his robe from the coat hook, he swung it around himself before Apparating out with a sharp crack. 

Arriving on the cobbled street outside The Alyssum, Leander glanced up at the painted sign under the glow of the red lamp. He had been here once as a customer attending a stag party for one of the lads in the office, and twice on official business as an Auror. The ladies and gentlemen of the night that offered their pleasures here were referred to as flowers to be plucked from the garden and enjoyed, promiscuous blooms with soft petals, but if you weren’t careful, you might find a thorn or two hidden beneath the surface. 

Approaching the robed men on the door, he pulled out his Auror badge, holding it up to them. “I’m not here for trouble, I’m just looking for someone. A woman, long black hair, blue eyes, likely dressed in black. Early 20s.” 

“You just described most of the female clientele that frequent this place,” one sighed, his gaze flicking over Leander’s Auror badge. “What do you want her for?” 

“Just want to make sure she gets home safe,” he said, putting his badge away. 

The other one shifted, the red glow illuminating his smirk. “Oh dear, playing away is she?” 

Both men chuckled and Leander hardened his gaze, drawing out some coins from his pocket. “A few minutes to check inside. If she isn’t there, fine. If she is, I’ll take her with me when I leave. It will almost be as though we were never here.” 

He held up the gold coins to them both, their eyes gleaming with interest before they exchanged a glance, nodding. They took the coins and stepped aside. 

“Mr Rosier arrived with a dark haired young lady this evening,” one of them said.

The other nodded in agreement. “So he did. Dressed all in black, too, so she was.” 

Leander gave them a cold look, his mouth twisting at how easily men could start talking at the glimmer of some gold. He stepped past them both, ignoring their chuckles as he pushed open the door and headed down the corridor with long strides. So, MC had come here with Rosier. No mention of Sebastian, and he wondered where slippery Sallow was. 

The club was much as he remembered it, the bold and the beautiful touting their offerings to willing patrons, gatherings sequestered in corners and booths, the sensual tinkle of the piano filling his ears as he scanned the crowd. He politely declined the advances of a curvaceous blonde, her painted lips falling into a pout as he wandered away along the curve of booths, peering into the secluded havens in search of MC. 

No sign of her in any of them, the bar also turning up disappointment as he made his way towards the rear, where you could pay for private sessions with the ladies and gentleman of the garden. As he was about to approach one of the guards on duty here, he caught sight of Rosier in an intimate embrace with a young woman. Her hair was cropped to her chin, a thin scar marking the side of her face, but she was beautiful all the same. Dressed in clinging green silk, the plunging neckline offering a generous glimpse of smooth skin, Leander averted his gaze and concentrated on Rosier. 

The Ashwinder was flushed, his eyes glazed and his fair hair tousled. His hands roamed possessively over the young woman’s hips, and she smiled provocatively in return. He seemed rather taken by his prize, but not so much entranced that he didn’t notice Leander’s stern gaze fixed upon him. Rosier stilled, his blue eyes hardening as he straightened his spine. 

“Just a moment, Leina, my sweet,” he said, brushing a finger under her chin. He released Leina, and moved to take a stance before Leander. He was deep in his cups, swaying slightly, but Leander knew better than to underestimate an Ashwinder when confronted. 

“Can I help you, Auror?” Rosier hissed. 

“That depends,” Leander said, hand hovering near his wand. “Where’s your sidekick? Is Sallow here, too?” 

Rosier’s eyes narrowed. “Well, shit. You’re the Auror he was at school with, the one who took the ancient magic witch out of Azkaban. Prewett, right?” 

Leander stood his ground, keeping his mouth shut. He couldn’t risk blowing MC’s cover, but his concern over her whereabouts was making him twitchy with nerves. He glanced around at those gathered nearby. Nobody appeared to be paying them any mind, but things would escalate quickly if this turned into a duel. 

“I’m not here on official business this evening. I’m just here to enjoy myself, just like you,” Leander said quietly, aiming for cool calm. 

“Why ask about Sebastian?” Rosier asked, tilting his head. 

A door to Leander’s left swung open and MC staggered through it, her hair a riot of wild strands escaping from her braid, her blouse open so low from the throat that the top of her lace chemise could be seen. She could barely stand, let alone walk in a straight line, her face pale with bright red spots flushing her cheeks. She paused, swaying precariously as she clung to the door handle, her gaze sweeping from Rosier to Leander with a strangled gasp. 

“Oh, fuck,” she slurred, swiping at her hair as it tumbled across her face. “This can’t be good.” 

Leander clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out for her, the strain of standing back making him grit his teeth as she pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a laugh. He stared, bewildered, as she giggled, almost folding to the floor as she staggered. She was unbelievably drunk, maybe even high on potions.

Rosier took her arm and she went willingly, bile rising in Leander’s throat as Rosier’s hand swept over her waist, holding MC against him. “That’s right, Auror. She is one of us now,” Rosier said, turning his head to press his mouth to MC’s neck, his eyes fixed on Leander. 

The girl, Leina, cupped MC’s cheek, her smile wicked as she stroked a thumb along her flushed cheek. She turned suggestive eyes towards Leander. “Ten galleons if you want to watch us play,” she purred. 

“I’d rather an Auror didn’t get to watch me slake my lust, if it’s all the same to you,” Rosier drawled, his arms around both girls. 

Leina shrugged, her smile lazy. “Coin is coin, Leo, love.” 

MC untangled herself from them, unsteady on her feet. She pressed a hand to her head. “Don’t feel so good,” she muttered. 

This time when she stumbled, Leander caught her, steadying her by the elbows as a dark robed guard stepped forward, his expression grim. “No mess in the garden,” he warned flatly. 

Leander nodded, holding up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” 

Rosier stepped away from Leina. “Hold up, what does that mean? You’re not taking her.” 

“Yes, I am,” Leander said firmly, and began to guide MC away. 

Rosier grabbed her other arm, halting them. “I can’t let you do that.” 

MC turned to him. “S’okay,” she slurred. “Can handle myself.” 

“MC…” Rosier eyed Leander’s grip on her other arm, an edge of panic to his voice. “He’s a gods damned Auror.” 

MC gagged, slapping a hand to her mouth. The guard immediately grabbed her by the shoulder. “Right, that’s it. Out! Now!” 

Leander nodded and clamped a hand around Rosier’s wrist where he held MC and tugged. “Let her go.”

MC groaned, her face flushing scarlet, then draining to pure white. Rosier swore under his breath, reluctant to let her go

“MC, come on, he will skin me alive if I let you go with an Auror, this one especially,” Rosier pressed. “You can’t let him take you.” 

The guard put a huge hand to Rosier’s chest, his face like granite. “No mess in the garden,” he repeated. “She leaves. You want to be thrown out with her?” 

MC swayed, gagging again behind her hand. Wrenching her arm from Rosier’s grip, Leander bodily lifted her off her feet. He gave Rosier a hard stare. “A night in the lock up will sober her up,” he said, his voice cold. “Don’t worry, I will kick her out at dawn.” 

Rosier bristled, his eyes glancing from him to MC now draped over his shoulder. Leina took Rosier’s arm, urging him away. Rosier appeared torn, and it irritated Leander no end how deeply embedded MC was clearly becoming in this world. With a nod towards the guard, Leander held MC steady and began to march for the door, the other patrons in the bar barely registering that he was hauling a woman out of there slung over his shoulder. MC remained quiet, arms hanging loose, uttering a groan as they hit the cool night air outside. 

The two doormen took one look at Leander, eyeing his prey in his arms, before sharing an amused glance. “Plucked the little blossom from the wicked garden, then,” one chuckled. 

“Something like that,” Leander muttered. He ignored their shared amusement as he studied the street, checking for watching eyes before he Disapparated for home.

….*….

It was definitely not how he had envisioned his first evening at home playing out after leaving the hospital. His mother had left at dinner time, satisfied to see him tucked up in his bed wearing clean pyjamas. It was now well past the witching hour, and he was trying to manoeuvre a very giggly MC through the main living space of his London flat. He thanked all the gods for the silencing charm cast over his home, because the racket she was creating would have had his neighbours thumping on the walls. 

She had stumbled into the table and chairs, knocked over a stack of books next to his reading chair, and tripped over her own feet. Her muttered apologies mingled with uncontrollable giggles, her hand slapped over her mouth in useless attempts to stop them. 

He placed a cup of water down on the table top and urged her to drink it. She did as she was asked, her glazed blue eyes peering up at him over the rim. 

“What did you drink tonight?” He asked. 

She plonked down the cup, water sloshing over her hand, her mouth tilting into a grin. “Well, it started with gin,” she slurred, holding up a finger to begin counting. She frowned, swaying slightly as she moved to point at a second finger. “Something amber coloured that made me horny as fuck, something desire?” 

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Liquid desire,” he sighed. 

“That’s it!” She said, her face brightening with triumph. 

His gaze lingered over her opened blouse, the tumbled chaos of her hair. Liquid desire was potent, giving one the intense feeling of lust without so much as a touch. Combined with the act itself, it made for a heightened sexual experience, and was commonly used in brothels. “Tell me you didn’t let Rosier…” He trailed off, his stomach clenching. 

She stumbled towards him, her hands smoothing up his chest. “Oh, no, no. He kept his promise,” she said, her hands sliding up his neck and into his hair. He swallowed hard as she pressed herself up against him, wondering what promise Rosier had kept. Whatever it was, he couldn’t help the wave of relief that she hadn’t given herself to the Ashwinder. She scraped her fingers across his scalp. “It feels like my blood is on fire, Lee. I ache, I need to do something, please.” 

He tensed, his hands moving to capture her wrists. “MC, you are really intoxicated, I just want to make sure you’re alright,” he said carefully. 

“I’m fine,” she shrugged, groaning in protest as he brought her hands level with his chest. He gave her a pained look, knowing full well that she was anything but fine. Her eyes focused on him for a moment, her lip trembling as she took a deep breath.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” She announced, tilting her chin. “I’m a super powerful witch incapable of making it through one damned day without fucking up somehow, and anyone who gets close to me either dies, or loses someone they love.” 

The words tumbled from her mouth in a slurred mess, her eyes wild as she looked at him. The more she spoke, the faster her eyes darkened into pools of despair. Her hands formed fists and she smacked them against his chest, tears welling up and spilling from her eyes. 

“I’m fucking damaged, Lee,” she sobbed, hitting him again, feeble blows that made her rock unsteadily on her feet. “I’m rotten. No good, and I infect everyone I touch. You should stay away from me.” 

She stepped away, stumbled, and he caught her immediately. “Easy,” he murmured, steadying her on her feet. He hated seeing her like this, glimpsing the damaged girl he had found on the unforgiving floor of Azkaban.

“No, no, not easy,” she cried, clutching at him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s fucking hard. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do. People die around me, Lee. I can’t do this. I can’t.” 

He smoothed back her hair and held her against him, her tears soaking into the wool of his jumper. Her whole body shook with her sobs, and he gently lifted her, carrying her into the bedroom and placing her on the bed. She clung to him, not letting him straighten, her breaths ragged. Slowly, he eased his arms free and unbuckled her wand holster, dropping it to the floor. He slid his hands down her legs and tugged free her boots, rolled her gently to the centre of the bed and pulled a blanket to cover her. 

“No,” she moaned, catching his arm as he moved back. “Don’t leave me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, MC,” he promised. “I’ll just be in the next room. You need to sleep it off.” 

She moaned, her eyes closing as she nuzzled into the bed sheets, but her hand gripped his sleeve. “Stay,” she mumbled, pulling him closer. 

Sighing, he moved to sit beside her on the bed, stroking back her hair. He was meant to be putting a bit of space between them, trying to move on, but it wasn’t that simple. She reeked of smoke and alcohol, her clothes were rumpled, her face blotchy with tears. She fidgeted, soft sobs escaping every now and then, her hand still curled into his sleeve. All that power she possessed and it was all people could see when they looked at her. Underneath all of that, she was just a girl, a very broken and lonely girl. His heart ached for her, but he knew that if he let her own it completely, she would break it. He didn’t know who he was fooling, she already owned it. 

Elizabeth Gaunt had looked him right in the eye and said MC would be safe in his hands. As he stared down at her, his freckled hand smoothing down the expanse of her back as she began to calm, he wondered if he could live up to that statement. 

His fingers worked gently through her hair, loosening the braid and easing the tangles out of the silken strands until it draped in a glossy wave across the blanket. Her breathing had become more even, her body relaxing. He thought her asleep until her hand fumbled from his arm, slipping over his stomach as she snuggled closer to him. 

A sad smile tugged at his mouth. “I love you,” he whispered. “I know that makes me a fool, but I do.” 

“You’re not a fool,” she slurred sleepily, and then she was quiet, slipping into the realm of dreams beside him. 

She wouldn’t likely remember any of this come morning, and perhaps that was for the best. He had questions, lots of them, but for now he let her rest. 

To be continued...

Leina is an OC character created by @slytherin-paramour and used with kind permission

[evaslytherpuff]

Ooooh! He’s yummy!😱☺️

Military Ominis would have me kicking my feet and giggling…..profusely.

(He’s meant to be partially blinded from an incident)

[evaslytherpuff]

I love Rosier! I may not trust him 100% either but I smile like an idiot whenever he speaks. Hehe.🤭 And that bathtub scene?! Ma’am!🥵🥵

Chapter 15

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

12k words. Chapter Master List and Ao3

Tags: NSFW / torture / physical injury / sexual scenes / angst / dark magic

Chapter 15: Love's the Death of Peace of Mind

MC

She had not seen it coming. 

Still rattled by the suspicious robed woman in St Mungo’s, MC had been so eager to get back to Sebastian, the weight of feeling like something could happen pressing on her chest, that she had been distracted. She should have been more prepared, more aware, but when she Apparated into Sebastian’s tent and saw the bed empty, her first thought was not to take out her wand, but to feel a sense of panic. The last 24 hours were beginning to take their toll, and she had been wallowing in her own whirlwind mess of emotions, exhausted.

The camp executioner was a big man, tall and solid, but he could still move with the stealth of a cat. His large, gloved hand had smothered her mouth from behind, his arm wrapped like a crushing snake around her, pinning her arms to her sides as they  Disapparated from the tent. There was no time to take a breath let alone shout a protest, and when they landed, she barely struggled in the executioner’s iron grip, a cold wind whipping at her hair. 

Shock had her rigid, but as she was roughly spun about with the turning of the executioner, her eyes landed on the Sallow twins on the ground. Anne was bound and gagged, Sebastian desperately clinging to her whilst shaking, his face a harsh grimace of pain. Her shock still rang in her ears, but she began to struggle harder against the executioner’s hold, fear creeping like a vine along her spine. 

“There she is,” Rookwood said, stepping into her view. He gave her a reproachful look. “We have been waiting for you, sweet one. Where did you slip off to in the dead of night? Your little bodyguard claims he didn’t know.” 

MC yanked at the hand covering her mouth, quickly trying to get control of her fear as she glared at Rookwood. The executioner freed her mouth, but his hand didn’t go far, it slid down to her throat, clamping it with just enough force to keep her still. She gulped against the leather clad vice, instinctively trying to suck in bigger breaths. She flinched as Rookwood stepped up really close, his hand sliding up her thigh and slipping her wand from its holster. He wiggled it before her eyes with a smile. MC eyed her wand, but kept her mouth tightly clamped shut, her magic already beginning to pull and surge in her blood.

“I’ll be keeping hold of this for the moment, if you don’t mind,” he said smoothly. “We wouldn’t want any more little slip ups like before. Luella is still most upset about her boots.” 

MC’s gaze glanced across to where Luella stood, her wand aimed down towards Anne. She had a different pair of boots on, her coat stylish and clean, hair neatly pinned. Her smile was smug, eyes glittering with triumphant malice as she looked down at Anne. Sebastian held his twin closer, his hands shaking. MC could see the fear in his eyes, but also his fury. 

“What did you do to them?” MC demanded, glaring at Rookwood. 

Rookwood strolled towards the twins, relishing the moment as he nudged his boot against Sebastian’s side. Sebastian flinched, gritting his teeth as he whined in pain. Anne struggled against her bonds, snarling like some kind of beast. 

“Think of it as a warning,” Rookwood said, turning to flash a smile at MC. “I’m not too pleased with how things seem to be happening around here. I thought perhaps a bit of leverage might be in order. I find people are far more cooperative when they have an incentive. Everyone has their weakness, MC. Even you.” 

Fighting against the tremble in her limbs, she tried to twist against the solid mass of the executioner, but a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and the grip he held on her throat gave a subtle squeeze. “Easy now, little kitten,” he purred near her ear.

Revolted, MC almost gagged, her eyes watering against the chokehold and the stinging chill of the wind. Her magic bubbled and sparked along her veins, a pressure building in her chest. 

“I am doing as you asked,” she gulped, her hands gripping the thick forearm of the executioner. “We found deposits. That’s what you wanted.” 

Rookwood spun to face her fully, stepping up until she could feel the full force of his icy glare. “I did not ask for your impertinence,” he hissed. “You dare to issue orders to me, insult my flesh and blood. Let’s not forget who feeds you, provides shelter to you. You may hold ancient power in your grasp, but without me you are nothing. Just an ex prisoner the Ministry would seek to control. I offer you the chance to become more than what you are, and you disrespect me and mine.” 

MC narrowed her eyes knowing full well that he intended to strip her of everything she had, but she kept her silence. The whispers of her own insecurities began to echo in her head, that feeling of being nothing and nobody. Still trying to grasp who she truly was, Rookwood’s words scraped along sensitive wounds. Her gaze dropped to Sebastian on the ground, the rigid pose of his limbs. She knew how that felt. The torturous, blistering pain. She could see the frustration and fear in his eyes, and knew he would hate feeling so powerless. 

“Why bring them into it? What more do you want?” She asked, craning her neck against the choking grip.

Rookwood leaned even closer, lifting a hand to drag a finger down her cheek. His finger was cold, but smooth. Flinching, she tried to turn her head, but the executioner held her firm, her whole body now shivering with cold and fear. 

“Don’t…don’t touch her,” Sebastian grunted. 

Rookwood’s smile was cold and cruel. “And there it is,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. His eyes wandered lazily over her face. He was far too close. Her heart pounded painfully. “Loyal, protective, Sallow. A man so willing to step foot inside the black walls of Azkaban to retrieve a girl who murdered his own blood, and not for one minute does he seek revenge on you. A man who insists on staying by your side, no matter how menial the task. We find you in his tent, in his bed. You are not just old school chums. I think he has feelings for you, my sweet. Does he love you? I think the real question here is, do you love him?” 

Rookwood grasped her chin, her face and neck now claimed by two ruthless men. She gasped and stared up at him, gritting her teeth against the scream of fearful rage that was building in her throat, her magic blistered but she fought for control. If she let it explode, she could hurt the twins on the ground close by. It would also reveal that she could unleash it without her wand.

“Look at her left hand, father,” Luella urged, her boots scraping on the rough ground as she moved to crouch beside Sebastian, her wand still aimed on Anne. Sebastian cried out as she seized his left wrist, his limbs painfully sensitive to touch, turning his palm upwards to reveal the neat, red welt of his scar. “See? A wound that never fully heals, and she has one to match.” 

“The plot thickens,” Rookwood smirked. His fingers ghosted down her left arm, making her cringe back against the executioner. As MC tried to pull her arm away, Rookwood wrapped fingers like iron around her wrist and wrenched her hand up and out. She made a fist, her eyes stinging with tears as she glared at him. 

“Get off me,” she spat. 

He ignored her, turning his gaze towards Luella. “How sad that she isn’t playing nice,” he said, his voice laced with mocking woe. 

Luella smiled and calmly cast Crucio. Anne screamed against her gag, her whole body arching viciously, her head thrown back. Sebastian screamed, too, trying to comfort his twin, ripping his arm from Luella’s grip to hold Anne. 

MC might hold a bitter resentment towards Anne, but the sight of her twisted agony made her wince, a stray tear sliding down her cheek. Sebastian’s horrified scream echoed in her ears. “Alright, alright,” she gasped, unfurling her fist to expose her left palm. 

Biting back a whimper, she watched as Rookwood traced his cold fingers across her own red scar, his eyes lit with gleeful curiosity. “Such lovely, soft skin you have,” he crooned. “To mark such beauty shows real commitment. I have heard of these blood pacts, but to see one cast in such a young witch is fascinating.” 

MC could hear the twins sobbing on the ground, her own body so rigid, frozen in the moment as she stared at Rookwood. She had known that all this had been too easy. 

“What did you promise him, hmm?” Rookwood asked, tilting his head. “Is it something hopelessly romantic, such as never ending love? A fool’s game if you ask me, destined for failure, and failure isn’t an option when it comes to these pacts. No, I think this was perhaps something a little more in keeping with Sallow’s need for control. He found something pretty and shiny, and never wanted to lose it. Am I right?” 

MC glanced down at Sebastian, saw him stroking his sister’s hair. Anne lay limp in his arms, her breathing laboured. Much more torture, and perhaps she would die. Her physical state was already weakened by her curse. But, then she met Anne’s eyes. Brown eyes so like her twin brother, glaring up at MC from where she was held against Sebastian’s chest, lids narrowed as they blazed with ferocity. No. That bitch had an inner strength that made her cling to her pathetic life with a death grip, her stubbornness matched only by the twin she seemed determined to control. 

Hardening her gaze, she glared at Rookwood. “I can only assume you know little about love,” she said flatly. 

Rookwood laughed, his shoulders shaking as it bubbled up his throat. He let her go, twirling around, arms out as he laughed at the sky. “Ah, but there is nothing quite like the bold and heedless recklessness that comes from young love,” he crowed, theatrical as ever. “And that is where your weakness lies. Your feelings towards young Mr Sallow will be your undoing.” 

The words slid along her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach like a prophecy of doom. Everywhere she turned, it seemed there would always be reasons to doubt her connection to Sebastian. Ominis had warned her, Anne had sent her to prison to keep her from him, Leander begged her to choose him with those soft eyes of his. Solomon had tried to kill her. 

Every choice she made, every path she took, there had been pain and darkness. Magic had been her light, a self discovery that offered hope, and Sebastian had been like a conduit. Born with Gaunt blood in her veins, but somehow destined to be entangled with a Sallow. To whatever end. 

“I wouldn't expect you to understand,” she choked out. “Just say what you want and be done with this.” 

“Always so cold and to the point, aren't you?” Rookwood mused, rubbing his chin. “It's all rather easy, really. You do as I ask, or I shall be forced to use leverage.” 

“What kind of leverage?” 

“Well, let's play a little game, shall we?” Rookwood grinned. He gestured and Luella dragged Anne up off the ground, Sebastian trying to crawl after her. “Oh, look at her, poor thing. Don't imagine for one moment that I don't recognise you, little bird. How's that curse feeling? Cooking along quite nicely, I expect.” 

Anne struggled and growled behind her gag, Luella smirking with smug glee as she held her firm. MC couldn't help but wonder what Anne would say if she could speak. Sebastian crawled jerkily towards them, but Luella put out her booted foot, pressing it against his forehead before shoving him back to the ground. 

Rage swept over MC and she twisted harshly in the executioner’s hold, choking as he restrained her. “Leave him alone,” she hissed.

“I do love it when my toys fight back,” the executioner murmured into her ear, squeezing her throat in warning. “Keep wriggling like that and I might start to enjoy you.” 

“Fuck you,” she said harshly, pulling on his forearm, horror creeping over her flesh at his body pressed against hers. 

Rookwood chuckled. “Hurt him again, Luella. I don’t think she liked that.” 

“With pleasure,” Luella said silkily, aiming her wand down towards Sebastian where he was trying to get back up onto his knees. “Crucio!” 

Both MC and Anne yelled in protest as Sebastian fell to the dirt, flickers of red sparking along his frame as he screamed. His throat sounded raw, hoarse, his fingers like claws as he tried to fight the pain. Flickers of memory danced behind MC’s vision as she recalled the pain of that curse. The darkness of the Scriptorium, Ominis sobbing quietly, and the dusty bones of Aunt Noctua resting uneasily in the corner. Anne was thrashing like a wild cat, screaming in rage behind her gag as she watched her brother twist in agony on the ground. MC was tearing at the executioner’s fingers around her throat as she yelled through her restricted airway. 

“Stop it! I’ll do what you say! Just stop it!” Tears were now streaming down her cheeks. 

“See? Isn’t it all so easy when everyone understands the rules of play,” Rookwood said, utterly calm and unfazed at the torture unfolding at his finely polished, booted feet. “I make a request, and you oblige me. Failure to do so will mean pain for those you care about.” 

“What more would you request of me?” MC asked warily. “You already have me seeking deposits, what more would you have me do?” 

Rookwood’s smile was slow. “I want you to absorb that repository under Hogwarts. The huge vessel of power that Ranrok wanted. You’re going to go down there and take it.” 

MC stared aghast, her blood freezing in her veins as she pictured that shimmering darkness in the cavern beneath the school. She could have taken it into herself back in her fifth year, but she had stepped away from it, repulsed by the swirling mists of other people’s pain, stolen against their will. What good could ever come from absorbing such a thing? In that, the Keepers had been right. It should never have been made in the first place, no matter how good Isadora’s intentions had been in the beginning. 

Anne began spitting venom behind her gag again, fighting with whatever strength she had left, her eyes glowing like hot coals of vicious hatred towards MC. Rookwood chuckled and glanced between Anne and MC, his head tilting slightly. “Is it just me, or does my little cursed one not like you much, MC?” 

“What gave it away?” MC muttered, glaring at Anne and wishing she would just shut up. Revealing too much was dangerous, it only gave Rookwood more leverage to play with. 

“Isn’t she the one who testified against you before the Wizengamot?” Luella asked, gripping Anne by the hair in an attempt to hold her still. “Unlike our dear Sebastian down here, this Sallow twin clearly isn’t so forgiving about the murder of their uncle.” 

MC clamped her lips together, refusing to take the bait, her eyes dropping to Sebastian who was groaning into the dirt, his body twitching with aftershocks. 

“Ah yes, this is interesting,” Rookwood said, narrowing his eyes and twirling MC’s wand in his hand thoughtfully. “Perhaps we ought to play another little game. Untie Mrs Gaunt, if you would, and give her a wand.” 

MC’s pulse quickened and she stilled, her eyes widened as Luella obliged. Immediately, Anne yanked her gag free of her mouth and snatched her wand from Luella’s grip. “Are you happy now?” She hissed, staggering forward and aiming right at MC. “This is all your fault, but nobody would listen to me when I warned them about you. Not Seb, not even my Ominis. The only one who understood was Uncle Solomon, but he is now dead. Because of you. You and your poisonous magic.” 

“Anne,” Sebastian whimpered, rolling stiffly on the ground. “No…” 

Rookwood was lit up like Christmas in the Great Hall, watching with fascination as Anne advanced on MC. MC swallowed tightly under the choking grip, her eyes fixed on Anne’s wand. Surely, Rookwood wouldn’t let Anne hurt her. He needed her. To her shock, Rookwood stepped forward and held her own wand out towards her, a malicious grin on his face. 

“Stop her, little bird,” he urged, his voice like silk. He held out her wand, handle first. “It wouldn’t take a lot, she’s hanging by her last thread. Make her suffer for the way she speaks to you. Demand her loyalty. It’s a lesson you must deliver on your path to greatness, MC. You deserve so much more respect. Take it. Show her.” 

MC felt her lips tremble as she stared at her wand, her hand already reaching out for it. The burn in her blood was a rushing, fearsome force. A blend of her ancient magic, her bitter desire for revenge, and her blood bound promise to never turn against Sebastian. To hurt Anne, was to hurt him. If she hurt Anne, she would suffer the consequences.

“Expelliarmus!” 

The spell shot from Anne’s wand, snatching MC’s wand and sending it flying through the cold, morning air. It landed and rolled across the dirt, Rookwood turning to Anne in surprise. Anne was intent on her course, her gaze fixed on MC, ignoring Rookwood’s protest as he held up a hand towards her. MC struggled in the executioner’s grip, the man mountain not even flinching as Anne’s first cast hit MC near her hip. The stinging burn was breathtaking, and she gasped, her knees buckling. If she wasn’t being held, she would have gone down. 

MC felt the pressure in her chest expand, her eyes glowing with blue and white flames, and the world seemed to slow down. Both Rookwood and Luella made a lunge for Anne, arms outstretched. Sebastian was dragging himself across the dirt, his face so pale and grim with pain. If she didn’t do something, her body was going to sizzle up in the furnace of her emotions, boiling with the urgency of her magic as it raged under her skin. Just like in Azkaban, when the Dementors had been about to take Leander, her magic exploded out of her control. 

The first blue lightning bolt struck the earth between MC and Anne, the glare of it blinding hot, the crack of its impact deafening. Anne was blown backwards into Luella, both women sprawling out across the ground. The executioner staggered slightly, but didn’t let her go. MC didn’t have the time to appreciate the awestruck horror on Rookwood’s face as the second bolt of lightning struck, this time taking out the executioner. MC felt the sizzle of the blast on her flesh, her ears ringing from the impact as she was thrown to the ground. Pain bloomed down her side as she rolled, but she got to her knees, gnashing her teeth against the burn as she scrambled to snatch up her wand. 

Bolt after bolt of searing blue lightning struck the earth, scorching the ground and filling the air with the scent of burning. The executioner lay still, the flesh of his face steaming, and MC gagged as she threw herself at Sebastian. He wasn’t moving, and terror filled her as the air crackled and burned around them. She shook him, grasping his face with one hand. The ringing sound in her ears blocking out the screams of Anne and Luella as they resorted to cat fighting in the dust. 

Sebastian’s eyes opened to look up at her, hazy and unfocused, but he reached out a shaking hand towards her face. It was enough. He was alive, and he was her only priority. Grasping him to her chest, MC closed her eyes, fighting against her exhaustion as she Disapparated, leaving the chaos of the clearing behind. 

Leander

After managing a light breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Leander sat propped up against the pillows of his hospital bed as he sipped a cup of tea. He had watched the dawn break through the window, the sky lightening with shades of pink and autumn gold against a backdrop of the London skyline. The pain in his head had receded to a dull ache that had almost gone, his ribs were still tender but well on the mend. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how lucky he was to be alive. 

Ivy had filled him in on the events of their capture and escape, her eyes burning with curiosity whenever she mentioned MC. Leander kept his feelings to himself, unwilling to reveal just how close he had become to MC despite the Auror’s offer of help. So caught up in the knowledge that MC had risked everything to save him, Leander had taken a while to find sleep after Ivy had departed. Loving MC was a complicated and painful process, each step forward resulting in a stumble back, only to be yanked forwards again. She may insist that they could never have a future, but something deep in his bones told him that she felt something for him. He kept that little flicker of warmth safely tucked away in his heart, nurtured it, savoured it. Even if it came to nothing, maybe it could be enough just to know that she had dared to feel something for a man like him. 

Daydreaming into his tea cup, he jolted when his hospital room door opened and a nurse swept in, her pale green robe swishing softly as she approached the bed. She had black hair with strands of grey threading near her ears, pale blue eyes that seemed to appraise him with a calm curiosity. A new face, seemingly kind and warm as she paused beside him. 

“Good morning, Auror Prewett,” she said, her smile quick and bright. He couldn’t help but stare at her. There was something vaguely familiar about the shape of her eyes. “How are you feeling today? I read your notes. You took quite a beating by all accounts.” 

“I’m feeling much better this morning, thank you. I count myself very lucky indeed. They weren’t kidding when they said that designated Auror beds were a necessity,” he said, placing his tea cup carefully onto the saucer. A crease appeared on his brow. “Have we met before?” 

Her smile was there and then gone again, like the flicker of sunlight on a cloudy day. “No, we haven’t met before,” she said, gesturing towards his arm and holding up her stethoscope. “May I?” 

“Oh, of course,” he said, giving himself a mental shake. He had been staring, and a hot blush stained his cheeks as he placed his tea on his bedside table and offered her his arm. Her hands were warm and gentle as she rolled up the sleeve of his hospital gown, and with a quick flick of her wand, he felt the tightening band of pressure about his upper arm. She placed the stethoscope against the inside of his elbow and checked a little watch pinned to her robe. 

Leander felt himself staring at her profile again, noting the gentle slope of her nose, the constellation of beauty marks near her ear. There was a captivating beauty about her that pulled strongly with recognition. He felt like he knew her in some way.

Her pale blue eyes shifted his way, and her mouth curved upwards. “Your heart is beating rather quickly, Auror Prewett, and I can feel your eyes staring right into my soul” she said softly. “It’s nice to know I can still turn a head.” 

His face burned with shame. He slapped a hand to his forehead. “I’m so sorry. Please…gods, forgive me,” he spluttered, cringing at himself. “I didn't mean to stare, it’s just…well, you remind me of someone. Someone special.” 

Her eyebrows lifted and she released the pressure on his arm, rolling down his sleeve with deft fingers. “The young lady in your life?” She asked. 

He nodded, and then frowned, looking back up at her questioningly. She smiled again, fussing with his bed sheets, smoothing them neatly. “I was here through the night,” she said. “I saw two young ladies visit your room. One of them was your colleague, and she did not fall asleep holding your hand, unlike the other one. That one is very pretty up close, nothing like the unflattering prisoner photograph printed in the Daily Prophet of her, for sure.” 

Leander shifted in the bed, rubbing the back of his neck, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. “You recognised her?” 

The nurse paused in her work and gave him a piercing look. “You won’t receive any judgement from me, Auror Prewett. We are all human after all.” She moved back up towards the head of the bed and checked his pillows, her hand firm as she placed it on his shoulder to settle him back against the plush softness. 

“You called her someone special,” she said, furtively glancing at him. “I get the feeling that she thinks rather highly of you, too. She cried at your bedside before falling asleep.” 

Leander felt his pulse quicken, his senses kicking up a notch as he studied this nurse a little more closely. He tucked that little nugget of information away to savour over later, for now, his Auror trained mind was edging towards suspicion. “Who are you?” 

“Call me… Beth,” she said, a curious little smile on her lips as she moved away from the bed. 

Her hesitation was enough to suggest that the name had been plucked from the air. He leant forward slightly, concern etched on his features. “You’re lying. Why are you asking about MC? Did Rookwood send you?” 

Panic flared in his chest and he gripped the bed sheets, preparing to launch himself from the bed. She hurried forward and placed her hands on his shoulders, her pale blue eyes wide. “Do not fret,” she said quickly and quietly, glancing over her shoulder towards the door much like MC had done when she had been here. “I mean no ill will, nor do I wish any harm upon your young lady. I’d rather die than be a soldier for Rookwood. He is a stain on the earth.” 

“Then, who are you really?” He demanded. 

Something in her gaze softened as she stared back at him. “You are a good man, Auror Prewett. I’ve done my research on you. An honourable man, and I give you my thanks. You take care of her. She is safe with you.” 

Leander could only stare, his lips parted. The pieces to the puzzle were floating within his grasp, he just needed to slot them into place. Her smile was warm as she stepped back from the bed. She nodded at him. He had known as soon as she walked through the door, hadn’t he? It just took some time for his brain to catch up with itself.

Her eyes, her smile, the black hair… She even had beauty marks on her face like Ominis.

“Wait,” he called out, gripping the sheets again. 

Her hand was on the door, opening it. She turned back once, their eyes meeting in a strange, but final understanding, and then she was gone. Goosebumps spread swiftly along his arms as he stared at the now closed door. He felt like he had seen a ghost, but that nurse had been no ghost. 

Beth.

Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth Gaunt. 

He had just been visited by MC’s birth mother. She was definitely alive. And she knew about MC, she had been watching them both, and he had just let her walk out of the door. 

Sebastian 

The warmth of the bath water seemed to envelope him, soothing over skin that felt raw and sensitive as though he had the flu. His hands still had a tremor, but the worst of the shaking seemed to be over. Sebastian winced as he leant back in the cast iron tub, trying to allow himself to relax, but fear held his insides in an icy vice. 

Rookwood had Anne. If they were all still alive that is.

A shudder rattled through him as he recalled the horror of every moment laying in the dirt whilst pain ripped through him, but his fear for Anne had been greater. To see her twisted with the same pain had torn him in two. Closing his eyes, he could hear her screams, the whole sky alight with blue fire, the same fierce glow burning in MC’s eyes. Blinking away tears, he pressed his hands to his face and took a few steadying breaths, panic beginning to swell in his chest. He hated feeling this weak, this powerless, but he would take all the pain he had to if it meant keeping it from Anne.

He stared at the unfamiliar walls of the bathroom, the dark wood panelling and cast iron fireplace where a crackling fire blazed for warmth. Pale sunlight streamed through a window catching the dust in delicate sparkles as they danced in the air. This house was aged and unused, bought with old money. Gaunt money.

He could hear the muffled sound of voices from the other room, Ominis and MC, still bickering, still unable to come to any sort of agreement. When MC had brought him to Ominis and Anne’s house, the fallout had been on a scale Sebastian had not seen since the day of the catacombs. Ominis went from being anxious about Anne’s whereabouts, to downright livid with rage when he discovered what had happened. Sebastian felt certain he had blacked out through some of it, the uncontrollable shaking and the unbearable pain stealing all rational thought from him. When he had come around again, they were no longer in Anne’s kitchen, but miles away amid the peat marshes of Norfolk, safely away from prying eyes in Noctua Gaunt’s riverside house. 

Weak, and exhausted, Sebastian had slumped on the settee as potions were poured into his mouth, MC’s hands carefully smoothing back his hair with worried glances. Ominis had paced, muttering and pressing his hands to his ears, reliving old horrors as MC recounted the torture. It seemed the darkness would never recede, it would always be there waiting in the wings to claim them, and for the first time, Sebastian felt a deep and true sense of guilt and shame. For so long he had walked the darker path, shrugging off the consequences of his actions, but to feel that pain, to experience first hand the true horror…

Sinking lower into the bath water, he let the burn in his eyes succumb to tears until his shoulders shook with his sobs. How much more of this could they take? How much more could he take? The weight of it all crushed over him, dragging him under until he felt like he would never breathe clear again. 

But, he still had to fight. He had to keep the game in play. Now, more than ever. He had to get his sister back. 

The click of the bathroom door made him look up. MC peered around the dark wood, her face pale and drawn, her eyes dark. “I just thought I would check on you,” she said softly. “Are you alright?” 

He didn’t think he would ever feel alright ever again. “I’m feeling better,” he nodded, managing a weak smile. 

Her teeth worried at her lower lip as she studied him. “Ominis left for the Ministry. He is going to report Anne as missing,” she said, still lingering behind the door. “Harrington is going to be all over this. I should contact Leander, too.” 

“If it means they get Anne back home, then maybe that’s a good thing,” he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I just said that.” 

MC pushed the door a little wider. “May I come in?” 

Sebastian reached a dripping wet arm out of the tub towards her, his fingers splayed outwards. “Come here,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. 

Closing the door behind her, she moved carefully across the floorboards, putting a hand to her side as knelt beside the tub, taking hold of his hand. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, frowning in concern. 

She waved him off. “I’m fine, don’t you worry,” she insisted, pressing her lips to his palm, over and over. “You’re cold,” she grimaced. She reached to dip her hand into the water, her eyebrows lifting in surprise at the heat of it. 

His smile was grim. “Must be that cold blood of mine,” he said darkly. 

She met his gaze. “You are definitely not cold blooded,” she whispered. “Too hot blooded for your own good sometimes, if anything.” 

He watched her through lowered lids as her gaze dipped to his chest, travelling slowly downwards where he lay back in the water. He made no moves to cover his modesty, watching with curiosity as a flush of pink coloured her cheeks. She cleared her throat, blinking rapidly as she averted her eyes, swiping back loose strands of hair. It put the beginnings of a fire curling in his belly to see that spark of desire in her eyes, to know that she still wanted him, even if she did try to hide it.

She had bathed and changed, too. Wearing a blouse of snowy white, it contrasted with the midnight ebony of her hair. There were dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes, her cheekbones still looked too sharp, and tension lingered around her mouth, but she was beautiful still. His heart ached for her in ways he could never explain but he didn’t move as her fingers stroked his hand. She slid them slowly over his skin, tracing over his wrist and along his forearm until she came to the tally of black marks he had cast onto his flesh. Her fingertip brushed over them as she frowned. “What is this?” 

“A mark for every soul departed by my own hands,” he admitted, swallowing thickly. She met his gaze, dark horror shadowing her face. “I don’t want to forget what I have done, MC. I carry the memory of them always, a reminder of my shame. It never gets any easier to carry the burden, and that’s how it should be.” 

“Oh, Seb,” she whispered, staring down at the black markers. Her horror turned to sadness, her eyes glassy and pained. 

“Don’t cry for me,” he said, touching a knuckle under her chin. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you, either. All those marks on my skin are a stark reminder of all the bad shit I’ve done, but I would do it all over again, every single one, if it means that you and Anne are safe. I love you both. I would do anything for you, anything at all, but that’s my choice. So, don’t cry for me.” 

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she said, her chin lifting in that stubborn way of hers. A determined gleam lit her eyes and she leant against the edge of the tub. “Once upon a time, you and I used to do fucked up shit together. For whatever reason, fate put you and I on the same path. I think it was set in stone long before we were both even born, and even when events try to separate us, we find each other again.” 

The seriousness with which she spoke made his heart clench, his pulse kicking up and fluttering in his neck, but he tilted his head and fixed her with one of his mischievous little smirks. “Careful, now, sweetheart,” he teased, trying to keep things light. “That sounds awfully romantic. Are you going soft on me?” 

“Someone is feeling better,” she said sourly, her brow creasing slightly. 

A hoarse chuckle left his lips and he tugged on her hand, needing her to be even closer. The bath water sloshed as he brought his other hand up to touch her jaw, his humour fading into raw honesty. “I always feel better when I’m with you,” he said. “Like you just said. Fate brought you to me, and I’m not letting you go without one hell of a fight. Rookwood was right about one thing. I did find something beautiful and precious, and if I’m selfish for trying to keep it, then so be it.” 

He sat up, the water sloshing noisily as he met her gaze nose to nose. “You’re mine. Body and soul. Bound by blood, bound by darkness, bound by the souls we have sent into Death’s hands to keep each other safe. I know it’s fucked up, MC, but it’s ours. I’d rather face all of this with you beside me than alone. You are the only one in the whole world who understands.” 

She nodded, leaning her forehead against his. “That’s why I’m going back,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I’m going back to Rookwood, and I’m going to find Anne. Not for her sake, but for yours, and for Ominis.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He frowned, apprehension stiffening his already tortured muscles. “Give me a few hours and I can go back myself.” 

“No,” she said firmly, placing her hand against his wet chest. “You need proper rest after what happened back there, and I don’t want you anywhere near Rookwood right now. I’ll go. Anne may hate me, but she won’t have a choice. She knows something, Seb, and I want to get it out of her.” 

He gave her a dubious look. “Good luck with that, Anne is more stubborn than I am.” 

“And that is saying something,” she smirked, her fingers gently digging into the solid flesh of his chest. His skin tingled harshly in protest, still raw, but he bore it. Anything to keep her hands on him. 

“You’re lucky I’m still weak and shaky, sweetheart,” he said, curling his fingers into the front of her blouse, his blood heating in slow, flickering pulses. He pulled her closer, his mouth barely grazing hers. He heard her soft gasp and smirked. “Keep sassing me with that smart mouth of yours, and I’ll be dragging you into this tub with me. I’m certain I could find another use for it.” 

He waited for the bite back, a smart comment, maybe she would shove him back down into the bath with one of her stubborn little looks, but she didn’t. Her hand slid slowly down his chest, fingers splayed, blistering heat following in a lazy trail as she dragged her fingernails gently across his stomach. His muscles contracted, pleasure and lingering pain sparking like tiny bites in his flesh, drawing a whimper from his mouth. Her pupils dilated, and he was entranced, caught in her gaze. Utterly in her hands. 

“In your state, I don’t think you could handle me,” she murmured, the low tone of her voice sending a shiver down his spine. 

“I’d happily die trying,” he gasped, his words more a desperate moan as her hand slid lower, fingers teasing at the edge of dark, curling hair. His dick twitched eagerly, hot blood rushing to swell him with an aching throb, the wet, silken tip grazing against her forearm. His eyes rolled, lips parted in a stuttering breath of sheer, teasing pleasure. Her mouth was a hot sin, her tongue so soft as she slid it over his lip. For a few blissful seconds he thought he might forget the pain as she kissed him, losing himself in her taste as desire blazed against the lingering ache in his muscles.

He trembled, one hand grasping the rolled edge of the iron tub as she reached for the bar of soap, and he watched with bated breath as she lathered it up in her hands before slowly spreading it downwards over his torso, the frothy bubbles swirling through the trail of dark hair around his navel and lower. He groaned and lay back in the water, biting his lip as the blend of pleasure and pain her touch conjured sung across his skin. 

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, her hands pausing at the apex of his thighs. 

“No…yes,” he whimpered, a crease appearing on his now sweat beaded brow. Desperation had him breathless. “Don’t stop.” 

Her slow smile did things to his insides, made him quiver with anticipation as her hands encircled his length, slippery and soapy as they glided up to the tip and all the way back down again. He didn’t even recognise the sound of the moan that left his own mouth, his pelvis lifting upwards from the base of the tub to chase the exquisite sensation of her touch. His head lolled against the tub edge, all rational thought eradicated as she worked with deliberate, slow strokes. 

“Good?” She murmured, watching him with dark eyes, a delicate pink flush highlighting her cheekbones. 

“So…so good,” he rasped, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the tub. 

Heat was pooling thick and fast at the base of his spine, every muscle and sinew strung to their tightest point as tremors of flickering pain lingered in his limbs. He would have thought that the effects of the curse would have killed his desire, but no, he wallowed in the tub as pleasure and pain blended into one mind blowing sensation. He never knew how delicate the balance could be between two very different sensations, but put them together, and he was dangerously close to climax after a few delicious strokes. Of course, it helped that it was MC’s deadly little hands doing the fucking. 

She picked up her pace, two hands fisting with just enough pressure over the head of his dick to have him bucking greedily, chasing the blistering peak with desperate, breathless moans. It took all of his remaining strength to cling on to the edge of the tub, with one hand he moved to reach for her, needing to feel her, but gasping he clamped onto the tub once more as she slid one soapy hand lower to cup his aching balls. 

“Fuck,” he panted, staring up at the white washed ceiling now, sweat streaking down his neck, a vein throbbing at his temple. What was that he had said about dying happy as he tried to keep up? 

The pressure in his lower back expanded, waves of heat rolling outwards as his balls tightened. So violent was his release, he cried out, almost blacking out as he coated his chest and her arm in impressive amounts of cum. The bath water rolled in mini waves after the shuddering arch he had made with his back. Sinking back down to the bath base, he panted, trying to reassemble his scattered thoughts with his eyes closed. Exhausted wasn’t the word.

He heard MC washing her hands off in the water, felt the soft swipe of a wash cloth against his chest, but he remained still, lungs burning with every deep breath. Only when he felt gentle hands take hold of his face did he crack open his bleary eyes. She smiled at him. 

“There, that’s better. You feel much warmer now,” she said, smoothing a thumb over his heated cheeks. 

“I fucking love you,” he mumbled. 

She huffed in amusement through her nose and bent down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I think I quite like this submissive, well behaved Sebastian. Can I keep him?” 

“Don’t get used to it,” he warned, but his words were no more than a soft mumble. He lifted a shaky hand and touched his fingertips to her lips. “Once I’m back on my feet, I’m going to put you on your back and repay the favour.” 

“I shall hold you to that,” she said, kissing him softly on the mouth. Then she stood, fetching a clean towel that hung on a rail. She held it up. “Let’s get you out of there and into bed. You need rest.” 

He wasn’t even sure he could stand. The day's events slammed into him, the post climax glow making his muscles feel loose and sated, but the horror of earlier still clung to him. A lurking darkness hung over his head, but a deep, glowing sense of warmth settled in his chest at her words. The promise of more. It was in her smile as he clung to her, his legs shaking as she helped him out of the tub. It was in the way she touched him, the softness in her voice as she towelled him off and pressed kisses to his flushed skin. She was finally coming back to him, and this time, he wouldn’t let her down. 

MC

Only when Sebastian was settled in sleep could she gently let go of his hand. She had tucked him into the freshly made four poster bed, ignoring his requests for her to climb in with him. They had compromised with her sitting beside him, their hands clasped as he began to drift. Staring down at his face relaxed in sleep, it struck her how vulnerable he seemed. So used to his cocky smirk and hands on approach, it gave her pause to see him weak and soft like this. 

It reminded her of those dark days after Solomon’s death when Anne had abandoned him, her heart contracting with pain to recall the nights spent wide awake in horrified tension in the Undercroft. So much pain and suffering seemed to find them both. 

She watched the delicate flutter of his closed eyelids, the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath the soft bed sheet. Alive. It struck her deeply how terrified she was of losing him forever. To use his own words, he was the only one who understood. To lose him would mean loneliness with cutting finality. 

When she had found him in the bathtub, his eyes red from crying, the urge to take his pain filled her with longing. If she probed that thought deeper, perhaps she could understand the lengths that Isadora had dared go to erase pain from others. MC didn’t think she could ever go as far as that, however, and when she had seen Sebastian naked in the water, her own body had fancied a rather different approach. It still gave her shivers to think of how he had moaned, her hands coaxing him to pleasure, pushing back his shadows and reinforcing that connection between them.

If he was indeed fated to be her undoing, then so be it. She was in too deep now, connected to him in ways inexplicable, but rooted so far into her soul that it seemed impossible to imagine her life without him in it. 

Is this what they call love? As a teen she had believed it so, but had never been entirely sure. She held a strong affection for Leander, cared about him, but it could never be like this. It brought a tear to her eye to contemplate such heavy thoughts, the web of emotions thick and binding in her chest. As she stared down at Sebastian in his sleep, she supposed she really must love him if she was preparing to go and seek out his stubborn, vicious mouthed sister. 

Slipping quietly from the bedroom and closing the door, she wandered the old house that had once belonged to Noctua Gaunt. Ominis had brought them here where nobody would think to look for them, allowing Sebastian to recover before they made any other moves. Considering his rage, Ominis had been rather gracious. As she awaited his return from the Ministry, not wanting to leave Sebastian alone, she began to pay more attention to the house around her. After all, Noctua had been her aunt, too. 

The furniture and decor held a charm of its own. The house was reasonable in size, and yet it felt like a home despite years of being empty. Cosy and welcoming, the house was nothing like she had thought to expect from a Gaunt, but then Noctua had broken the mould when it came to her family. The art was light and pleasing, seeming to favour themes of flora and landscapes. MC trailed her hands against fine curtains and plush cushions, her boots crossing delicately woven rugs. 

Opening a door, she came across a room lined with many bookcases, a leather settee placed before a cast iron fireplace. A bureau style writing desk was placed against one wall, above it hung a portrait of two dark haired girls and a stern faced boy. MC moved closer, noting the resemblance to Ominis in their faces. First, she stared at the boy, likely Ominis’ father. There was none of the gentle nature in his hard eyes that she had come to know about Ominis. The set of his mouth was cruel, even at a young age. She guessed Mr Gaunt to be around fourteen in the picture, his arrogance apparent in the way he placed his hand on the back of the chair where the smallest girl sat. 

The older of the two girls had to be Noctua. MC had seen a portrait of her before that Ominis had shown her not long after their visit to the Scriptorium. It was the smaller girl in the wing backed chair that made her pulse quicken, her throat working as she studied the delicate features of the raven haired girl, sitting so straight backed and yet demure as she posed. A proper lady at approximately eleven years old.

“Hello, mother,” MC whispered, seeing her own blue eyes reflected back at her in the painting. They had the same shaped nose, the same hair. She found herself longing to know how she moved, the sound of her voice. What would it feel like to hear her laugh? It brought a lump to her throat. 

Pressing her fingers to her cheeks, she could see with her own eyes the similarities in her features to those of the three Gaunt siblings. If Ominis had been able to see, would he have noticed long before just how much she looked like his relatives? It chilled her to think that his family would have seen her photograph in the newspaper. Would they realise? But then, she remembered what Ominis had told her. That he had always believed his Aunt Elizabeth’s daughter long dead. 

Pushing back against the burn of tears, MC turned her attention to the fine writing desk, smoothing her fingers over the lid before carefully pulling it down. It made no creak or groan as she lowered the writing table, everything inside neatly stored, the wood finely painted with floral designs on the drawers and pigeon holes. Quills and bottles of ink, neat stacks of correspondence and notes, envelopes and a wax seal with the Gaunt family crest were all stored here. MC picked through the various items, not really reading any of the private letters still kept, until her gaze fell upon one that gave her pause. 

Her fingers shook as she held the parchment, her mouth going dry as she sank down into the antique chair placed before the bureau. 

My dearest Noctua, 

I felt compelled to reply to your recent letter at once. I fear that I may already be too late, but if I am not, then please…you must do nothing. You know how Father is. He would cut you off, or worse, he would see you cold in the ground before you betray your blood. Do not fret for me, sister dearest. I made my choice. I could never regret my love for William, and I already adore the babe that grows within me. He, or she, will be the light of my life, and if I need to run in order to protect my child, then that is what I must do. William and I plan to marry at the first opportunity. We shall go to Gretna Green to become handfast. It will be the start of a new life for me, away from the dark corners of Gaunt manor, and the wickedness that pours from Father’s wand. 

I shall remain, as ever, your most loyal and loving sister. I implore you again to be careful, and I beg that you press a million kisses to baby Ominis’ cheeks. 

Love always, your sister, Beth x 

This glimpse into her mother’s world only threw up more questions. What happened? How did a woman so intent on her new start manage to disappear, and the light of her life ended up in an unforgiving children’s home in the poorest part of London? Where was her father now? This William her mother spoke so fondly of. And how did Solomon Sallow fit into all of this? 

MC read the letter again before returning it carefully to the collection of letters in the desk, thumbing through the rest to see if she could find any more. Tucked to the rear of the desk was a rolled parchment, a broken wax seal displaying a circular symbol she had never seen before. Unrolling it quickly, she scanned the inked words and the mystery deepened. 

It was addressed to Noctua, and it spoke of a matter discussed at a previous meeting, however the details were not mentioned here. The sender of the scroll was signed only as Head of the Circle, whoever that could be, and they claimed that Elizabeth was safe and well. MC studied the document, noting the neatly scribed words, the delicate designs drawn at the top along with the words ‘The Circle of Avalon.’ 

Sitting back in the chair, MC let her hands drop to her lap, her gaze staring off across the room as she considered this. She had heard Avalon before, and she dredged through her memories as she tried to remember where. Sebastian would likely know, but she was loath to wake him yet. He needed to recover his strength. As she pondered this Circle of Avalon, the nagging feeling that she needed to talk to Anne hung over her. It didn’t appeal, but that stubborn bitch knew something, and she was hiding it from both her and Sebastian. 

Turning to the desk, she pulled out her secret communication parchment that she shared with Leander and smoothed it out on the table top. Tapping her wand to it, a single sentence appeared in his neat script. 

We need to meet as soon as possible. Lee x 

Expecting this to be about Anne’s disappearance now being known, MC took up a quill to write her request for Andrew Larson to look up The Circle of Avalon in the Ministry files, and promised to meet with him soon to explain. There was something she needed to do first. 

….*….

Time slipped into late afternoon by the time Ominis arrived back at Noctua’s house, his face drawn into one of tight fatigue. MC had been standing out on the back terrace, looking out over the river as the sun began its descent. The sky was a glorious sweep of golds and pinks, the Norfolk landscape a flat marshland as far as the eye could see, broken only by the many windmills scattered here and there, and the odd late sail boat making its way through the broads. 

“You’re still here, then,” Ominis said, holding out his wand, the tip blinking red. He could not hide the downward turn of his mouth, his grimness understandable. “Where is Sebastian?” 

“Sleeping,” she replied, pulling her cloak closer around her shoulders as she moved to stand before him, wincing at the bruising to her ribs. “Now that you have returned, I thought to leave him in your care. I intend to return to Scotland and see if I can’t find where they are keeping Anne. How did it go at the Ministry? Did you speak with Harrington?” 

“Harrington has put out an alert about Anne’s disappearance. From what I can gather, Prewett will be released from St Mungo’s this evening. I’m sure they will want to speak with you,” he said, fidgeting slightly, rubbing long fingers against his forehead. “Perhaps I ought to warn you. I also spoke with my brother whilst I was in London. We don’t tend to stay in touch, and so the meeting was rather strained to begin with before I even mentioned Anne. He is a despicable human being, much like my father. However, Marvolo is in cahoots with Rookwood, and I want my wife back.” 

“What did he say?” MC felt a shiver start at the back of her neck. As curious as she felt about her blood family, she had hoped to avoid Marvolo as much as possible. 

“He claims he knew nothing about Anne being taken, and quite frankly he didn’t seem to care,” Ominis scowled, his mouth a tight line. “He seemed more interested in how Sebastian took his torture, and if you were compliant in Rookwood’s game play. My distress has always been a source of enjoyment for him, I can’t see how this will change anything.” 

MC placed a tentative hand to Ominis’ shoulder. He immediately tensed under her touch, but she kept her hand there. “I am sorry, Ominis, for whatever part I have played in this mess. But, I want to fix it. Anne may not like me, but she means a lot to you and Sebastian, and you both mean a lot to me.” 

“You will do the evil that Rookwood asks of you?” He asked, tilting his head, his pale eyes luminous in the light of the setting sun. 

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she said, letting her hand slide from his shoulder. “I can’t promise there won’t be anything dangerous about this, but it is the path we find ourselves on. Just make sure Sebastian stays here. He needs to rest, and I don’t want him anywhere near Rookwood until I know the state of things. I’m not having his death on my conscience.” 

“Nobody should have any deaths on their conscience,” he said bitterly. 

“In a perfect world, perhaps, Ominis,” she said sadly. “I shall take my leave, then.” 

Her boots scraped against the stone flagging underfoot as she took a step back. Ominis reached out a hand and grasped her sleeve, his fingers clenched tight. “Be careful. Come back to us.” 

The expression on his face brought a lump to her throat. “I promise,” she whispered. 

Slowly, he let her go, his shoulders seeming to carry a heavy weight. With a last glance back at the house, MC Disapparated out to the cluster of trees near the Ashwinder camp. 

The shadows were long and creeping as she stepped through the carpet of leaves, wand in hand. It was quiet. Too quiet. A chill wind rustled the canopy above, and she pulled her cloak closer as she peered around the trunk of a tree, a sinking sensation made her stomach clench. The camp had gone. The clearing ahead had been filled with pitched tents and cook fires, chatter and even some singing filling the air, but now, it was barren. Evidence of stamped out fires and flattened wild grass where tents had stood were all that was left. The Ashwinders had moved on and she had no idea where. 

Slumping against the tree she considered travelling to London and paying a visit to the Black Rose. Someone there would be able to tell her the new camp location, but that would risk word getting back to Rookwood that she was looking, and she had been rather hoping for subtlety. Perhaps that was Rookwood’s plan. Frustrated at being stumped at the first instance, MC sighed and rubbed her face. She would have to go back to Norfolk and ask Sebastian if he had a clue how to find them. 

A twig snapped to the left of her and she spun, wand out, but couldn’t see anyone in the rapidly descending darkness. On full alert now, her pulse quickening in her ears, she stared wide eyed into the trees. It could be an animal she supposed, but the hairs had lifted on the back of her neck. She didn’t feel alone. 

The flickering beam of a spell shot through the shadows, catching her off guard. Jumping to one side, she yelped as the sensation of coiling rope wrapped around her calf, slithering easily to bind both of her legs together. Losing balance, she thumped down into the bed of leaves with a cry of pain as she crushed her already sore ribs. Gasping against the winded feeling, she wriggled into a sitting position to aim at the binding curse with her own wand and release it. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, dragging her back to the ground and pinning her there, face down. Her spell scorched through the crispy leaves, missing its mark.

“Well, would you look at that? I’ve only gone and caught myself a cute little bunny in the woods.” 

MC twisted her head to try and see who it was, the voice vaguely familiar, furiously trying to buck against the hands holding her down. “I wouldn’t get too cocky,” she grunted. “This isn’t over yet.” 

He laughed, leaning down until she could feel his breath against her cheek. His cologne was fresh, citrus scented, and his fingers massaged into her muscles. “I love a feisty bunny,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. “We have to stop meeting like this, chosen one. Why are you always lurking in dark places? Oh yes, one should always expect that you are up to mischief. That was what you said, wasn’t it?” 

Her breath left her in a gasp, leaves fluttering at her nose. “Rosier?” She squeaked. 

“We meet again, MC,” he chuckled, rolling her onto her back. 

Leaves were caught in her hair and there was a fresh smudge of dirt on her cheek, but her eyes flashed indignantly as she stared up at his handsome face whilst he knelt over her. Even in the deepening twilight you could see the fine cut of his jaw and charming smile, his dark blonde hair swept romantically to one side. Her hands clenched. She hated being taken at a disadvantage, and had the urge to slap his smug face. 

“Release your spell,” she demanded through gritted teeth. 

His smile widened. “You’re lucky you Apparated into my surveillance patch, love. Otherwise you would be dealing with a lot worse than a little binding hex.” 

“What do you mean?” She frowned. 

He bent closer. “Rookwood expected you to come back, so he set watchmen to wait for you,” he said. He tilted his head, his eyes curious. “I’m surprised to see you alone, though. Where’s Seb?” 

“After what he went through? You seriously expect him to be up and about already?” 

Rosier’s face fell, no longer cocky, but serious. “He’s hurt?” 

MC studied him, unsure if he was bluffing. “Rookwood didn’t brag about his little torture show?” 

“No, he did not,” Rosier said tightly. His hands let go of her shoulders as he shook his head in annoyance. “Rookwood didn’t say an awful lot, to tell the truth. Is Seb alright?” 

Perhaps Rosier’s concern was genuine, but MC didn’t have time to debate it out. Whilst he was distracted thinking about Sebastian, she sat up, using her momentum to slam into him and take him by surprise. He grunted and lost his balance, falling sideways into the leaves. Her legs were still bound, but she threw her weight on top of him, aiming down at the ropes, and cast quickly. The ropes disintegrated, and as he grabbed her by the arms, she fought back, swinging her leg over until she could straddle his chest. She pressed a hand to his throat making him choke, forcing him to still, her wand tip pressed into his cheek. 

She smirked down at his surprised face. “I told you not to get too cocky.” 

His eyes gleamed as he smiled. “Nice moves. Sallow’s girl through and through, ain’t you, love?” He said, his throat bobbing under her palm. His gaze swept down over her, his eyebrows lifting up playfully. “This is quite the view, though. Can’t say I’m complaining.” 

Narrowing her eyes, she pressed the tip of her wand deeper into his cheek. “Keep it in your pants, Prince Charming,” she warned. “Look all you want, but keep your hands to yourself.” 

He groaned and bit his lip. “Merlin’s balls, you’re turning me on, love. Didn’t I tell you?  I love a feisty bunny.” 

She gaped at him and he laughed, his hands wrapping snugly around her wrists. “Relax, love. I’m messing with you. Seb would have my bollocks on a platter if I so much as laid one finger on you. He ain’t the revealing type, likes to play his cards close to his chest, but he has got it bad for you. I can tell.” 

She looked pointedly at his hands around her wrists. “You’ve laid more than a few fingers on me so far. A little daring for one who seems overly confident about his dick appeal. Maybe I should platter you up right now, hmm? I don’t need Seb’s help for that.” 

A delighted bark of laughter escaped him. “Oh, you are delicious. There will be no need for that, though. What can I say? I love a good game of flirting, and you are far too lovely to pass up on the opportunity for a spot of banter.” 

“You call tackling women to the ground flirting?” She wrinkled her nose in disapproval. 

“I couldn’t risk you disappearing on me now, could I?” He said, grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got that all powerful ancient magic thing in your favour. I had to give myself at least a little fighting chance.” 

She eyed him carefully. “So, what’s the plan? Are you to take me to Rookwood now that you have caught me?” 

“That is what he wanted,” Rosier said, attempting to ease her hand from his throat. “Care to do a man a favour, and come quietly?”

She gave his throat a gentle squeeze. “What if I won’t go willingly? I’m not too impressed with his performance earlier this morning. He made me watch as he tortured Sebastian and his sister in the dirt. Rookwood can go fuck himself. What do you say to that?” 

Rosier was quiet for a moment, considering her words. “Sebastian’s sister?” 

“Yes, his twin. Anne,” MC nodded. She frowned as a look of stunned realisation swept over his face. “You do know about her, right?” 

“Anne is Sebastian’s twin? I had no bloody idea!” He exclaimed. “Seb never really spoke much about his family. He always got cagey whenever the subject came up. When Rookwood mentioned this girl, Anne, I had no idea of the connection.” 

“What did Rookwood say about her? Do you know where she is?” 

She felt him swallow under her hand, his eyes wary as he spoke. “What makes you think I would know that?” 

“Sebastian will start ripping heads from necks if Rookwood has done anything to hurt his sister,” she said. 

He nodded awkwardly, still holding her wrists. “I can quite imagine it.”

“You and Sebastian seemed friendly enough. You shared a tent after all. Is there any honour amongst thieves?” She asked, shifting her weight on him. 

His eyes narrowed. “What are you asking me?” 

“I’m not going to let you drag me before Rookwood. There has been enough of that for one day,” she said bitterly. “I want to know how loyal you are to him. You may be buddies with Sebastian, but I don’t know if I can trust you.” 

“How about I prove my worth to you?” 

“I’m listening,” she said, tense and ready, her wand still pressed to his cheek. 

He cleared his throat and she eased her grip a little. “I know where Anne is. But, if you think you’re going to just waltz in and get her out, you’re mistaken. Luella is the keeper of the charm holding the house, and like I’ve warned you before, she isn’t a bitch you want to cross.” 

Hatred made MC’s skin crawl as she thought about Rookwood’s entitled bitch of a daughter. “I’ve come face to face with a few bitches in my time, Rosier. Luella Rookwood made her first mistake thinking she could put her hands on Sebastian. She picked a fight with the wrong woman when she pissed me off.” 

Rosier flinched back, letting go of her wrists as he stared up at her. “What the fuck is that in your eyes? They are glowing blue.” 

Her smile was slow as she dragged the tip of her wand down his face. “A reminder not to fuck with me,” she warned. “I still don’t trust you. Ashwinders are aptly named. Slithering snakes born out of chaos, spreading your flames until you’re all burnt out.” 

“You’ve made your point,” he said, swallowing hard. “Let me up, and I’ll take you to where Anne is being held. There isn’t a lot of honour amongst thieves, but Seb has always had my back and I’ve always had his. You can trust me on that.” 

“Time will tell, I guess,” she said, releasing her hold. Keeping her wand at the ready, she got to her feet, hesitating for a moment before holding out her hand towards him. “If this is some kind of trick, don’t think I won’t hurt you. I didn’t get sent to Azkaban for making daisy chains.” 

He eyed her hand, and then smiled as he took hold of it, allowing her to haul him up. He got to his feet, brushing loose leaves from his coat. “I’m only a fool when it comes to bedding pretty women. When it comes to survival, I know which side of my bread is buttered, love.” 

Now that he was back on his feet, his face held that ridiculously charming smile. She figured that smile could be dangerous to the unsuspecting victim. He made you want to smile back, the smoothness of his voice a clever ploy to lure you in. 

“So, where are we going?” She asked, expecting it to be somewhere like Rookwood’s old family estate, or maybe even somewhere in London. 

“Hogsmeade,” Rosier said, holding out his arm like a fine gentleman escorting his lady. “Shall we?” 

He returned her look of surprise with another disarming smile. She hoped to gods she didn’t regret this, but slipped her arm through his under the shifting shadows of the trees, that gut twisting tug behind her navel making her gag as they vanished. They landed on the windswept, craggy hill above Hogsmeade, the tall pointy roofs of the village spread out below them under a shroud of misty rain. The lights appeared like yellow, hazy glows, and in the distance stood the huge, hulking mass of Hogwarts. A magical, slumbering giant under low, heavy clouds. 

Rosier held a finger to lips and pointed to an abandoned building clinging to the edge of the rocky hillside, the flickering light of a candle dancing in a low level window. MC creased her brow in memory. She had been here before, a long time ago. Rosier took out his wand and cast the Disillusionment charm, his form vanishing in the misty rain. MC swiped at the dampness gathering on her cheek and did the same, apprehension settling in her chest. 

A hand sought out hers, warm fingers clasping firmly, but gently. “Follow me,” Rosier whispered. 

To be continued...

Tagging: @eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @evaslytherpuff @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[evaslytherpuff]

I’m speechless!!!😱😱 Also scared!!! This is insanely good!!!

Chapter 14

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Leander Prewett

Tensions are building as emotions run high. Leander’s life hangs in the balance, and choices must be made.

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Tags: NSFW / Violence / Blood / Torture / Angst / Trauma / Dark Magic

Chapter 14: Trust Must Work Both Ways

Leander 

The insistent throb of pain in his chest made every heartbeat feel like fire, the pain spreading outwards in a wave with each pulse. It echoed in his head, his thoughts cloudy and fractured as he tried to open his eyes. It was so quiet, and he could feel a chill in the air, the scent of dirt mingled with a freshness that made him think of deep woodlands and clear, blue skies. It didn’t make sense. The last thing he remembered was the narrow chalk tunnels, running through the dark, and a girl screaming. 

Each time the world tried to flicker back to him, the pain intensified, but he couldn’t move his arms to try and ease it. The ground was cold and damp beneath his clothes, and when he tried to open his eyes to see, the blurry dimness was nothing more than smudges before him, illuminated in pale gold. 

Was this how it would all end? He tried to remember what happened, but the throbbing pain made it hard to focus. As he tried to place events in order in his memories, flashes of images presented themselves, all of them bleeding into one another as he rasped in wheezy breaths. His lungs burned. A woman with cold blue eyes. Luella Rookwood. A stinging slap to his face, rough hands dragging him. Miss Montgomery weeping. Pain. Always the pain.

The kitchen in Shell Cottage drifted in and out of his thoughts. He breathed in slowly, carefully, fancied he could hear the waves crashing on the shore, catch a glimpse of silken black hair and crystal blue eyes. He could hear her, she was speaking softly, her fingers touching his cheek. He wanted to retreat into the vision, it was safe there, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. 

“Lee, please, look at me,” her voice whispered, but there was an urgency to it. It didn’t match the peacefulness of the cottage. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.” 

His lashes fluttered, and a groan escaped him as the pain smashed into his chest anew. His head rolled, but gentle hands caught it and held him steady. He tried to swallow, his lips moving, but a mere croak came out. “MC?” 

He could hear her soft sniffles as though she was crying, and he blinked quickly, forcing his eyelids to open. Wincing at the glow of a fire torch, a hazy vision of MC came into view. She leaned over him, her hands holding his head.

”Oh, thank the Gods,” she gasped, gentle fingers smoothing back his hair. 

Gradually, his surroundings came into focus, the peaked canvas roof of a tent, a dirt floor. When he made to lift a hand to touch MC, bound ropes stopped him and he grunted, panic adding pressure to the awful pain in his chest as he tried to move. 

“Hold still,” she urged, holding up a potion bottle. His eyes felt itchy and tight as he focused on the little glass phial. Wiggenweld. “Open your mouth. I’m going to tip it in.” 

Her hand held his jaw as he parted his lips, and she eased his head back. The potion hit his tongue, his whole mouth tingling at the liquid relief. He was so thirsty. 

“You’re going to be alright,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at something. He wished he could move his arms. Her touch on his cheek pushed back against the agony. She smiled. “This time, I’m going to save you.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed the potion, focusing on the feel of her fingers stroking against his face, and let the drowsy feeling of sleep claim him again. 

MC

Her hands shook as she carefully eased Leander’s head back against the thick, wooden tent post, his eyes fluttering closed again. He was deathly pale under his freckles, his lips almost white, and it made for a sharp contrast against the blood. His cheek was slashed, and blood had trickled down from a wound on his head, his usually neatly combed hair sticky and mussed. His drowsiness frightened her, he didn't seem to know where he was, but when he had spoken her name, the relief had been palpable. 

They didn’t have much time. Sebastian could only distract for so long. Leaving the potion to work on Leander, MC crawled around him to the blonde girl tied against the pole at his back. She appeared relatively unharmed, just a split lip, likely from a swift blow to silence her. MC shook her shoulder and she groaned, blinking slowly before fixing a piercing gaze on her. She frowned, and then her face morphed with recognition. 

“You’re MC,” she said, clearing her throat. She sat up straighter, scowling at her bonds. “Did you do this?” 

MC scoffed and shook her head, narrowing her gaze a little as she studied the girl. She must be the one Leander had told her about, the new Auror who took McKinnon’s place. Her hair was pale blonde, her face as pretty as a little doll. She looked every bit the delicate maiden, but there was a strength in those eyes that spoke of determination and strong will. There had to be something about her considering she had made it through the Auror training program. 

“Are you injured?” MC asked, her eyes scanning down the slim frame beneath the Auror robes. 

“No, no I don’t think so,” she replied. Her intense gaze studied MC warily. “You are MC, aren’t you? The prisoner that Auror Prewett meets with.” 

MC aimed her wand towards the ropes, her face carefully impassive. “That’s me,” she said. “And you are his new partner. Apologies, I don’t recall your name.” 

“Montgomery,” she said, eyeing MC’s wand with a touch of wariness. “What are you doing?”

“Hold still. I’m going to cut the ropes and then I need your help. Leander is badly hurt, and I need to get him out of here.” 

She stiffened, her eyes flaring. “First name terms? How cosy.” 

MC fixed her with a hard stare, hoping that this girl didn’t start the sarcastic games that McKinnon seemed to favour. “Do you want me to cut you free, or not? Honestly, I don’t care either way. I just want to get Leander out of here before your worst nightmare comes through that door. Trust me, you do not want to face the camp Executioner.” 

Montgomery swallowed hard, her eyes darting towards the tent flaps that led outside, shifting nervously under her ropes. MC took little satisfaction in the flare of fear that flitted across Montgomery’s gaze, her patience was on a taut leash, her attention drawn to how Leander was faring. Reaching out a hand, she felt his forehead. It was cool to the touch, no fever.

“How bad is he?” Montgomery had twisted her head, trying to get a look at Leander behind her. “He was hit by a blasting hex from Luella Rookwood. His head hit a crate as he fell back.” 

“Not as well as I would like,” MC muttered, fresh hatred bubbling up for Rookwood’s spawn. She grit her teeth as she imagined Leander being hit, grimacing as she cast a slicing charm and the ropes fell apart, freeing the young Auror. MC shuffled back as Montgomery pushed the severed ropes free and brushed dust from her robe, shifting up stiffly and then gasping when she spotted Leander slumped behind her. There was concern in her eyes, but she recovered swiftly, her training kicking in as she did a quick scan of the tent, her mouth set into a firm line. 

“What is this place?”

“You’re in Scotland,” MC replied, crawling back to Leander to check on him. “This is an Ashwinder camp about three miles east of Bainburgh. I wouldn’t bother memorising the location, they move regularly to avoid discovery.” 

“They took our wands when they captured us,” Montgomery said, shuffling closer. “Any chance your plan to get us out involves retrieving them?” 

MC gave Montgomery a curious glance. Considering her dire circumstances, this Auror had a steel spine, and she was clearly ready to do whatever it took to help, including looking to an ex-prisoner for answers. There were none of the sly games that McKinnon had favoured, at least for now.

“You are going to trust me, then?” MC asked, looking Montgomery right in the eyes. 

“If it’s good enough for Auror Prewett, then yes, I will trust you,” she nodded. “What do we need to do?” 

A grudging respect for this Auror filtered through to MC, but she would still be keeping a close eye on her. She nodded towards a wooden bench on the far side of the tent. “Your wands should be on that table over there,” she said, pulling out another potion from her pocket. “Grab them, and then we need to get Leander awake enough so we can Apparate. I’m hoping he will be strong enough to travel that way.” 

As Montgomery hurried to search for the wands, MC gently took hold of Leander’s face, stroking his uninjured cheek. “I need you to wake up again, Lee,” she said, rising tension making her constantly glance towards the tent entrance. “Someone could come and check on you at any moment.”

His eyes fluttered, blinking open a bit quicker this time, the first dose of potion doing its work. She gently clasped his jaw, using her thumb to pull down his lower lip. “Another potion, Lee,” she murmured, meeting his bleary gaze. He managed a stiff nod and opened his mouth. “That’s it. This will help. Where does it hurt?” 

He swallowed down the potion and tried to move, wincing with a sharp intake of breath. “Chest…bad,” he wheezed. “Head…”

Sucking back tears at seeing him look so weak, fear dragging ice fingers down her spine, she leaned closer to him. “I need you to stay awake for me,” she urged, stroking back his hair. “I need to get you out of here. Do you think you could manage me Apparating you? Is that safe?” 

He nodded. “Do it,” he rasped. 

Swiftly cutting his ropes, she grabbed his shoulders as he slumped. Montgomery crouched beside her, the found wands in her hand. She helped MC steady Leander, her eyes far too curious as she looked between MC and him. 

“I’m going to assume nobody else in camp knows you are in here,” she said shrewdly, her eyes darting towards the door. “You risk the whole operation if you are caught assisting us.”

MC fixed her with another cold look. “I’ve got someone being a distraction, but it gives us minutes at best. I suggest you hold on to me, now.”

Both girls froze as the tent flap was shoved open, MC immediately snatching her wand into her grip and moving to block Leander. She thought she might actually faint with relief when Sebastian stepped in, quickly pulling the flap closed behind him. He looked tense, his eyes scanning the scene quickly before he hurried forward.

“Time to go, now,” he snapped, taking her arm. He glanced down at Leander and grimaced. “Shit, he doesn’t look good.” 

Montgomery was gaping, her eyes wide in shock. “Gods, you’re…you’re Sallow,” she gulped. 

Sebastian turned his gaze to her, seeing her properly for the first time. His lips curved into a smirk. “Indeed I am. Pleasure to meet you, Miss,” he said smoothly. He held out a hand towards her. “I assume you’re coming with us.”

“Auror Montgomery,” she mumbled, sliding a hesitant hand into Sebastian’s grip.

MC rolled her eyes at the blush that stained Montgomery’s cheeks as she wrapped her arm firmly around Leander, and tugged at Sebastian with the other hand. “Seb,” she hissed. 

As soon as Montgomery’s hand was firmly within his, he gave MC a nod, and that violent tug pulled behind her navel. It was mere seconds, but she felt the heavy drag in her arms as she clutched Leander, feeling the weight of bearing two as they were ripped through time and space. 

Sebastian

The landing was neither elegant or gentle as they crashed into the soft bed of wild grass. He hadn’t taken them too far, only to the Scottish border, a small spot near an old ruin of a castle. It was fully dark, a chill wind whipping across the exposed landscape. MC was clinging on to Prewett as if her life depended on it. From the looks of him, it was his life hanging in the balance, the blue tinge around his mouth suggested chest wounds and his pallor was very poor.

“Where the blazes are we?” Montgomery leapt to her feet, wand in hand as she scanned the darkened moor around them. “I thought you were taking us to get help. St Mungo’s would have been the better option.”

“For you, perhaps,” Sebastian muttered, more concerned about his own immediate problems. He reached for MC, grasping her elbow and tugging. “Come on, we need to get back to the camp before anyone notices we are missing.”

The tight, furious look on MC’s face told him he had a fight on his hands. Her fingers were curled into Prewett’s bloodied robe, and her chin lifted in that stubborn way of hers. “I’m not leaving him until I know he is alright,” she said flatly. 

“When they realise that the Aurors got out, it won’t take a genius to figure out who helped them when they discover you gone, too,” he pointed out, his own stubbornness kicking in. The mood back at camp had been restless, the Ashwinders hyped up by the scrap in the tunnels. Having prisoners to torment had their teeth gnashing eagerly, and things would sour really fast once they discovered the empty tent. He tightened his hold on MC, eyes dark and firm. “We need to go. Now. Let him go.” 

The flicker in her eyes, just a flash of pain that was quickly masked, but it revealed the double meaning behind those words. As soon as she could release her hold on Prewett, Sebastian had every intention of Apparating them both back to his tent, but her hands remained fisted tight in his robes, her mouth a tight line. Letting him go was more than just the physicality of it. She had to leave him here, in the dark. Injured, and in the hands of a stranger. That crack in her shield had revealed the panic, and the pain of having to let go. 

“I can’t just leave him,” MC said, her voice wavering slightly. Even her lips trembled. “He needs help.” 

“What exactly is going on here? You seem to be rather over familiar with Auror Prewett. Is there something afoot here that I should be aware of?” 

MC turned her attention towards the suspicious blonde Auror, her eyes hardening. Sebastian looked to her, too, but kept hold of MC’s arm. Montgomery was watching them through narrowed eyes, her wand not aimed at them, but ready in her grip. 

“There is nothing you need to be aware of,” MC said, her tone laced with ice. “Is it really so shocking that I would help him?” 

The wind whipped at their hair and clothing, but the rattle of Prewett’s wheezing breaths could still be heard. He coughed, blood staining his pale lips. As much as Sebastian could throttle the bastard through his fear of losing MC, to see him in this state was a sobering moment. He remembered Prewett as the stammering kid who still hadn’t grown into his feet at school, opening his big mouth without thinking, always trying to keep up with his peers but somehow managing to fall short every time. 

Look at him now. His robes were of fine quality. He was a fully fledged Auror, living a good life, and he had managed to capture the soft part of MC, and that was no easy task. Her shields were high and thick, but she had let him in. He’d always figured he hated Prewett, but perhaps it was merely envy. The bloke had carved himself a path through his struggles, he had done well, and it merely highlighted the mess Sebastian had managed of his own life. His ambitions had led him into darkness, whereas Prewett had strived to be better. Did he deserve to die in a field for his efforts just so Sebastian could keep MC close?

Sebastian found himself kneeling in the damp grass, pressing a hand to Prewett’s head to check for fever, his thoughts already racing through the various healing spells he knew through long hours of research. He heard MC’s sharp intake of breath, her cool hand clutching his arm. Had she thought he would hurt Prewett? Perhaps finish him off? It made his guts twist in shame because perhaps he was more than capable of doing just that. 

“It’s alright, MC. There is no fever, but his breathing suggests dangerous chest injury,” he said, aiming his wand towards Prewett’s sternum. “If his ribs are broken, they could have punctured his lungs. I can check.”

“Will he die?” MC asked desperately, as the tip of Sebastian’s wand glowed white.

A quick glance at her face revealed her fear despite the darkness of the wild moor around them, the weak light from his spell casting ghostly shadows on her taut expression. If Prewett died, it would crush her. If helping this damned Gryffindor didn’t prove how far he would go for her, then nothing else would. 

He shook his head. “Not if we help him.”

“I can’t believe what I am seeing,” Montgomery gasped, her eyes wide as she watched on. “An Ashwinder helping an Auror!”

Sebastian ignored her, allowing the spell to show him the cracked and ruined mess of Prewett’s ribs which were definitely broken, the images flickering before his eyes in black and white like an ink drawing. The spell he had learned during a study session with Ominis, researching ways that might help his old friend ‘see’ things. They had been amused at the illusions of their friends in skeletal forms, casting the spell on unsuspecting students at Hogwarts. At the time he hadn’t anticipated the uses he would need it for later in life, and now, staring at the ruin of Prewett’s chest cavity, he felt his stomach churn at the pain it must be inflicting on him. 

“You believe the hype that surrounds us, it seems, Montgomery. Perhaps we are not the monsters you think we are,” MC countered, eyeing Sebastian's wand movement as she gently stroked Prewett’s hair back. “How bad is it?”

Sebastian grimaced, meeting her worried expression with a shake of his head. “He needs a Healer. Broken ribs, most likely internal bleeding. I can mend the bones. I reset an Ashwinder’s broken leg once. It mended up a treat. As for the bleeding, that's a bit more tricky.” 

“He needs to go to St Mungo’s,” Montgomery insisted. “All Aurors have a designated bed available due to the violent nature of our work. He would be seen immediately.” 

“Then let's go,” MC said, already holding Prewett against her. His head rolled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids flickered as though he would wake, but he remained limp in her embrace. Time was running out. 

“No, we can't,” Sebastian said, grabbing her arm. “I'm wanted in London. You are supposed to be under cover, and with that article printed in the Prophet about you, there will be suspicion on both sides. Damage limitation, MC. Let Auror Montgomery take Prewett in. We need to return to camp and keep up appearances. You've done your part. You got him out.” 

“Listen to him…” Prewett rasped, the effort of speech making him cough. Blood gurgled in his throat, his face contorted with pain. MC clutched at him, her hand fluttering like a panicked bird near his face.

“Right, that’s it,” Montgomery said, dropping to the grass on her knees. Her wand was put away, her hands reaching for Prewett. Grim determination settled over her features and she gave MC a pointed look. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him to St Mungo’s.”

For a tense few seconds, Sebastian eyed both women, certain that MC might shove the Auror away and disappear with Prewett alone. He kept his grip tight on her sleeve just in case. If Rookwood so much as caught a sniff of her arriving at St Mungo’s with an Auror in her arms, it would be over. 

Something softened on Montgomery’s face, and she placed a careful hand on MC’s. “Clearly, you think highly of him,” she said gently. “Don’t worry. I will make sure he is cared for. Go back to the camp. It’s what he would tell you to do, isn’t it?” 

Slowly, reluctantly, MC nodded and withdrew her hands. Sebastian put his arm around her, trying not to notice the way she was staring at Prewett as though it would be the last time. 

“I should be taking you back to London in charmed chains, but I will let it go just this once. You have surprised me, Sallow,” Montgomery said, wrapping her arm around Prewett to support his head. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness, pale light from the slither of moon peeking between swiftly moving clouds highlighting the pale blonde of her hair. “The reason I have this position is because you took out my predecessor. You are the most wanted murderer in our books, and yet, here you are saving not just me, but an old rival, too. Perhaps I should be thanking you.” 

“I’m not doing this for you,” he said coldly, narrowing his eyes. At the edge of his vision, he saw MC look up at him. This was for her, just as he had promised. Anything for her, even if it meant saving Prewett’s skin. “Get him out of here.” 

“Don’t let him die, please,” MC begged. 

The vulnerability in those words cut Sebastian like cold blades. He could feel her trembling and he held her closer, noting the puzzled curiosity on Montgomery’s face as she nodded. In the blink of an eye, they vanished, the crack of the magic splitting through the blustery night. MC buried her face into his chest, the shield completely slipping from her as she sagged, a sob tearing from her throat. 

MC

It mattered not that Sebastian had draped another blanket over her as she lay in his bunk. Still she shivered. Huddled into the smallest shape she could manage on the camp bed, the blankets drawn up to her chin, MC fought the tiredness that tightened her eyes. The tears had subsided, and she had to believe that Montgomery was good on her word, that Leander was safe in St Mungo’s. Yet, if she allowed her eyes to close, all she could see was his deathly pale face, the blood on his lips, and the terrifying sound of each rattling breath that echoed from his crushed chest tortured her memory. 

Fear was a strange companion. She was definitely no stranger to it, spending many hours crouched in the dark of Azkaban and facing terrors no human should have to. Fear for yourself was something she could grasp and own, swallow down and challenge. Fear for another person ate at you like a ravenous beast, its hungry teeth devouring everything inside of you in uncontrollable tremors that left you hollow and fractured. An unfortunate side effect of becoming attached to another person, of loving them and caring about them, was to face the devastating fear of losing them.

If she had ever doubted her attachment to Leander, she no longer did. The thought of her world without him in it left her cold. Especially since it had been her word that had sent him into those tunnels in the first place. If he died, then she had sent him to his death. 

A hand touched her shoulder, Sebastian’s shadow casting over the bed as he blocked the glow from the lamp on the table. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

She could hear the worry in his voice, the plea for her to take down the wall she had slammed up around herself, but she merely shook her head and kept her face turned away. He had brought them back to the camp, immediately pouring her a fire whiskey that she had tried to push away, but he made her drink it promising it would warm her up. The drink had indeed burned all the way to her stomach, but the shivering had not stopped. 

Refusing any more of the horrid drink, she had let him tuck her into his bunk, murmuring reassurances that Leander would be okay. It still hadn’t fully sunk in how he had helped. Sebastian hated Leander, and she had given him good reason to want to hurt him, but he had done no such thing. She had shared Montgomery’s surprise, and needed to thank him for his kindness, but the words were stuck solid behind her fear. 

He had done it for her. I’ll do whatever it takes, MC. 

Her throat ached with fresh tears but she bit them back, swallowing down the softer parts of herself behind the safety of her thick walls. Not until she knew that Leander was alive and well would she allow herself to take a true, deep breath. 

Sebastian stroked her hair, the solid weight of him leaning against the side of the bunk a comfort despite the distance she had needed to put up. She felt the press of his lips at her temple and closed her eyes, a brief respite at the soft warmth, before the rustling of the tent doorway made her rigid once again. 

“Well, isn’t this cosy,” a soft, feminine voice drawled. 

If there was one thing you could say about her and Sebastian, it was how in tune they were when it came to that sense of threat. Sebastian was on his feet in one fluid motion, and she was upright, blankets thrown back and her feet hitting the floor just as fast. Once again, despite her superior power, Sebastian edged until he was slightly before her, ever the protector. 

Luella Rookwood stood in the entrance of the tent, her beautiful face decorated with smudges of dirt and splatters of blood. Her blonde curls were escaping from the pins that held it back, her mouth twisted in displeasure, her eyes spitting furious envy as she glared. 

“What do you want?” Sebastian asked carefully, his hand hovering at his wand holster.

Luella smirked, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. “Not your usual greeting for me, Sebastian,” she drawled, her gaze lingering over him. “Is that for her benefit?”

MC forgot her fear for a moment, hatred pure and cold solidifying in her gut. The way this bitch tried to claim Sebastian merely added to the utter thirst for revenge that thrummed thick and hot through her blood. Luella had hurt Leander. She was the reason he had looked like Death could come to claim him. MC didn’t even remember doing it, but her wand was already in her hand, her fingers clamped around the handle like a vice. 

“Get out,” MC hissed, barely hanging on to the threads of her control. 

Luella lifted an eyebrow in bored curiosity. “Are you threatening me, little prisoner?”

MC felt Sebastian’s touch against her lower back, a silent warning. “Nobody is threatening anyone,” he said softly, but MC heard the tell tale silky tone in his voice. It was the voice he used in the duelling pit, smooth and controlled, but behind it was a storm waiting to be unleashed. “Why are you here, Luella? It’s late.”

“And yet, Daddy’s little pet is here, tucked up all snug in your bed,” she said, moving closer, slow and deliberate like a prowling cat. “Does my father know you’re playing with his new toy?” 

“No more than he knew about us,” Sebastian said smoothly. 

The smirk that curved Luella’s mouth made MC’s blood curdle, her fingers adjusting around her wand. “What’s the matter little prisoner? You look a little tense. You did know that I used to share that bed once, hmm? Something tells me that I was merely keeping it warm, though. A convenient bit of fun until you crawled back out of Azkaban.” 

It was hard to tell if the reproachful look she gave Sebastian was genuine or not. Either way, MC felt rage blister up her spine, her limbs trembling for a completely different reason now. She felt Sebastian grip the back of her blouse, but it didn’t stop the surge of power that coursed through her veins. Her ancient magic truly did thrive on powerful emotions, and MC felt like she might actually implode from the spinning web of feelings assaulting her this evening. 

Luella’s eyes widened and she took a hesitant step back, her hand grasping for her wand. “Gods, look at her eyes,” she muttered, throwing Sebastian a bewildered glance. “What’s happening to her?” 

Sebastian’s lips twitched upwards, a look that bordered on the edge of pride lighting his eyes. “Isn’t she quite marvellous?” He said, his fingers caressing up and down her spine. “All that power, just waiting to be unleashed. It’s easy to see why your father is quite taken by her. A true rarity in the world.” 

Luella lifted her chin, her mouth settling into an entitled pout, her wand at the ready. “Father always did like his trinkets and toys, although he tires of them quickly, discarding them for something newer and prettier. Something you have in common with him, Sebastian.” 

Luella’s eyes glittered with challenge. Clearly, her ego suffered at his rejection. MC grit her teeth, sick of the fancy word play. Her magic seemed to crackle and fizz at her fingertips, the tremor visible in her wand hand as she aimed towards Luella’s stylish, black boots. The short, sharp blast of white hot magic erupted from the end of her wand, striking the floor of the tent right before Luella’s feet. The whole space lit up with the ancient magic glow, making all three of them wince. Luella yelped and jumped back, but not before the magic had scorched the lower parts of her trousers and ruined the fine leather of her boots. 

Her head jerked upwards, blonde curls bouncing as she fixed her enraged eyes on MC. “You dare to strike at me!” She hissed. 

Sebastian had his wand up and ready, his hand once again grasping the back of her shirt. MC had the growing suspicion that he clung on to her in fear that she might disappear. He seemed reluctant to leave her side, and kept a constant hand on her. Reigning in the surging power of her magic, MC sucked in a steadying breath, but kept her aim on Luella. 

“I’m going to make you squeal in pain, little prisoner,” Luella vowed, her eyes narrow slits of hate. “I’ll make you fear every mirror you come across knowing the horror your own reflection will provide once I’m through with you.” 

“Now, now, Luella, my sweet. Less of the dramatics, if you would. That is no way to speak to my guest,” Rookwood said smoothly, entering the tent behind his daughter with his usual air of confidence and flair. He smiled with all the icy charm of a venomous snake, his gaze sweeping around the tent whilst wrinkling his nose in disdain. “My word, Sallow. This tent is rather lacklustre. You ought to upgrade, dear boy. Put your wand work to good use other than for torture and death, and transfigure yourself some more luxurious furnishings.” 

Luella quietly seethed beside her father, her cheeks flushed and her fists clenched at her sides. “Look what she did to my boots,” she said, pointing down towards her feet, her words ground out through clenched teeth. 

Rookwood barely gave them a second glance before he shrugged. “Conjure yourself a new pair,” he suggested. 

“Are you joking?” Luella scoffed, her mouth tightening. “These boots came from Paris, the finest craftsmanship there is! There is no conjuring a pair such as these.” 

Rookwood sighed and pinched his thumb and forefinger at the bridge of his nose. “Then return to Paris for a new pair if it means that much to you. I care little,” he said, his voice thin on patience. He gave them all a withering look. “Now then, what’s all this petty squabbling about? I sent you over here to ask Sallow about the missing prisoners. Where are we on that matter, daughter dearest? May I remind you that my patience is already dangerously thin after this evening's series of events. Some good news would be most welcome now.” 

MC shuffled closer towards Sebastian and she could feel the tension in his grip on the back of her shirt. This is where they needed to play it calm and steady. MC gripped her wand with both hands and settled her features into the blank, cold stare she so favoured. 

“Your daughter barged in here and disturbed my rest,” she said, her voice cool and level. “After days hiking through the Highlands on the hunt for ancient magic deposits, I was feeling rather exhausted and retired early. I’m not sure I appreciate being awoken and threatened in such a manner.” 

Luella glared with outright hatred, her eyes wide at the sheer audacity. Sebastian dipped his head, no doubt fighting a smirk. 

“You were sleeping? So, you missed the drama concerning the Auror ambush?” Rookwood asked his questions, his cold, blue eyes assessing her carefully. 

MC tilted her chin upwards as she nodded to confirm. “Sebastian was just filling me in on tonight’s news when Luella charged in here. I’m not sure I appreciate such hostility. It’s also rather dangerous considering how charged my magic is after absorbing new deposits. It can be rather unstable and difficult to control. I’m afraid some magic unleashed itself and damaged Miss Rookwood’s footwear.” 

The lies rolled easily from MC’s tongue, spoken to appeal to Rookwood’s sheer greed over her magic as a means of distraction. It appeared to work, his eyes lighting up at the mention of her absorbing more power. “You were successful in your search, then?” 

“Indeed we were,” Sebastian said, his voice dripping with cool confidence. “And we think it should be easier to find more now. It appears the deposits could be linked to deep emotions, and we plan to continue the search. With your blessing, of course.” 

“Of course,” Rookwood said, dipping forward in a slight bow. “And you shall have it.” 

Luella folded her arms, her face screwed up in frustrated disgust. “This still doesn’t explain how my Aurors managed to escape from the prisoner tent,” she fumed. 

“That sounds rather close to an accusation, Luella,” Sebastian said, tilting his head. “Are you suggesting MC had something to do with their escape?” 

MC arranged her features into a grimace. “Why in Merlin’s name would I help any bloody Aurors? I’ve spent the last few years locked up behind bars because of those pricks, I can’t say liberating one of them is high on my list of priorities.” 

“Indeed,” Rookwood said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. “In this case there were two captured Aurors.” 

“One of them was a tall redhead by the name of Prewett,” Luella said, her face now sickeningly smug. “I remembered you mentioning this particular Auror before, Sebastian. Isn’t he the one who visited you in Azkaban, little prisoner? He escorted you out as well by all accounts. I thought a little reunion might have been particularly interesting. The fact he managed to get away whilst crippled by injuries is both puzzling and disappointing.” 

MC felt fear begin to trickle down her spine. This bitch knew too much about Leander already. “I remember him,” she said stiffly. “I can’t say I’m in a hurry to see him again, either.” 

How bitter the words tasted on her tongue when her entire being itched to travel to London and lay eyes on Leander. The need to see him alive and healed pressed with an urgency that made her want to fidget, but she held herself firm. 

“Not even to whisper secrets into his ear?” Rookwood leant forward, his gaze so piercing that MC fancied it felt like ice scraping along her bones. “The Daily Prophet deems you a public risk, and the Ministry claims they have it all under control. It’s a tricky situation. I have you here in the midst of my family where you can hear all sorts of wonderfully dark secrets, and now prisoners are disappearing, my lock ups are being raided. Tell me, sweet one, what you would think in my position?” 

MC refused to cower under his scrutiny. She had faced Dementors, she had stared into darkness that tried to clutch her within its grasp and chase all reason from her head. This was just a far reaching, greedy man and she was sick of all the game playing. She could handle this. She felt her spine stiffen, her face became hard and cold, her eyes glittering chips of stone to equal his. She had become one with her wall of defence, all that was soft and vulnerable so deeply hidden by this cold fury she presented that it could have been non-existent. 

“I suppose that all depends on what it is you truly want, Rookwood,” she said carefully, tilting her head as though pondering his question. “I mean, if it bothers you so much, I could always just leave. Without me, there is no power, the problem goes away. I shall continue to research and grow my understanding of what I am capable of regardless of your involvement. You have ambitions. I get that. It seems to me that you need me more than I need you, though. Choose what you wish to believe, but don’t play games with me, and don’t send your daughter into my private space so she can throw accusations and threats around. Next time, I won’t be so polite, and perhaps it will be more than a pair of scorched boots for her trouble.” 

Luella gaped, incredulous. “Are you hearing this, father? You see how she threatens me to our very faces?” 

Rookwood considered MC carefully, his eyes subtly narrowing as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. When his gaze flicked towards Sebastian, a slight frown creased his brow. “You truly are a cold little thing, aren’t you? And yet, Sallow appears unaffected by you. He stands as if he would protect you, unflinching. What hold do you have over him, hmm? You killed his kin in cold blood, and yet he remains loyal to you.” 

MC shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, whilst her heart thudded with a frenzied rhythm beneath her ribs. “He has the same choice as you, Rookwood. He can stay, or he can leave. Either way, it makes no difference to me, or my magic. But, he has been with me since the beginning. He understands. He also knows that I could kill him at any moment, I could kill anyone. Ashwinder, Auror, or otherwise. I’ve been crossed by all of you and the only person I fully trust is myself.” 

It took everything she had to stop her hands from shaking, from breathing in rapid gasps, as she pondered the truth of that statement. 

“I’ve seen what she can do, Rookwood,” Sebastian said, following the thread she had begun to weave with his habitual confidence. “You’ve seen it, too. Mere glimpses perhaps, but you know as well as I that MC is dangerous. The Ministry knows it just as well, and I don’t doubt that they will have eyes on her. They would be fools not to. I also believe that MC hasn’t reached her full potential yet, there has to be more. Are you willing to suffocate that over a pair of missing Aurors that mean little to this cause? They were nothing more than toys for your Ashwinders to break, and yet you risked having them here in camp where they could lay eyes on MC. What if they did hear she was present? They now have that information to take back to the Auror Office. You risk them coming to claim her back under the ruse of arrest.” 

Rookwood threw a disgusted glare towards Luella, who flinched back in surprise. “The boy has a point,” he snarled. 

“You would take their side over your own daughter?” She cried, spluttering in disbelief. “Are you seriously going to believe all this graphorn shit they are speaking?”

MC could have hugged Sebastian right then for his clever manipulation of words. He had always been able to squirm his way out of trouble, deflecting attention by highlighting points that pressed upon a person’s weaknesses. He was dangerous when it came to these types of games, and she was fully aware of how she was equally liable to fall for it. His tenacity had always been a trait that she had admired, though. 

Rookwood’s mouth was a white line, his usual theatrical presence squashed under a temper that flickered cold fire in his gaze. “These two bring me news of success in the form of discovered deposits. You bring me chaos and two problems in the form of escaped prisoners who now have potential intelligence on us. You who should know better!” 

Luella’s cheeks flushed scarlet, her eyes darting towards MC, who couldn’t resist a cold, satisfied smirk in return. The indignation on her face was far too satisfying for words, so instead, MC reached out a hand and caught hold of Sebastian’s, linking their fingers in a bold statement of unity. That’s right, bitch. He is mine. 

“Sebastian and I intended to return to the search for more deposits at first light. Is that going to be a problem?” MC asked, her tone exceptionally calm and innocent. 

Rookwood turned his granite expression her way, his eyes scanning them both in a way that made her palms itch. “Do what you must. Absorb all deposits you come across,” he nodded. He turned and grasped Luella by the elbow. “As for you, daughter of mine. We have matters to discuss in private.” 

With a gentleman’s bow and a tip of his top hat, Rookwood exited the tent with a furious Luella in tow, the last look she threw back towards MC livid with a promise that this wasn’t over. 

MC stood completely still, her fingers gripping Sebastian’s hand as the sound of departing footsteps receded from the tent. The opening fell closed, flapping gently in the night breeze that came down off the surrounding high peaks. She could hear her own restrained breathing, the erratic pulse in her ears from the effort of maintaining such tight control. It had been too easy. Rookwood had rolled over without any push back at all, and it left her uneasy. 

Sebastian let out a long sigh as though he, too, felt the tension. He pushed his fingers through his mop of hair and brought their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You are brilliant,” he said quietly. She lifted her gaze to him, the strength of her barriers wobbling. “Scary, but brilliant.” 

One look at those chocolate coloured eyes and the defences fell. She sagged, shaking from the adrenaline and stunned at her own audacity. Of course, he caught her. She was held against his chest as he wrapped strong arms around her, her own hands clutching at his jacket in an effort to ground herself. 

“I’ve got a really horrible feeling about this, Seb,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, remembering the flash of furious envy in Luella’s eyes when she noticed the deliberate way MC had held Sebastian’s hand. In trying to show a front of strength, she had allowed her own jealousy to get the better of her, and she had shown her hand in more ways than one. 

“You weren’t wrong, MC. You do hold all the power, and that is just what Rookwood wants,” Sebastian said, stroking soothing hands down her back. “It will be alright. You’ll see.” 

“We should just cut our losses and kill him now,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “We could do it easily. Kill him, take what we can, and run, before anyone else has to get hurt.” 

“If you think it’s easy to get access to his collections, think again. They are well hidden and guarded. Killing him now will cut us off to all the artefacts and knowledge he has stored, all the items that belonged to Isadora that he stole. I know how much you want those,” Sebastian said, cupping her face. “Not only that, what’s to stop the Ministry arresting you for his murder again? They can claim you are unstable, you broke the terms of your probation, and they could throw you back into Azkaban in order to keep you under control. I am not going to risk that happening again, MC.” 

“How many more people have to get hurt, or even die because of this cursed magic festering in my veins,” she hissed, clenching her hands in frustration as angry tears burned under her lids. “Why did it have to be me? Why did I have to be given this power? I don’t want it, Sebastian. I hate it!” 

“Hey, hey, easy now,” he soothed, making her look up at him, his thumbs easing across her cheeks. “Take a breath. You’ve got this, MC. Your power is a gift, and I don’t know anyone else who could handle it as beautifully as you do. You amaze me with your strength, your ability to keep that gorgeous head up despite everything that gets thrown at you.” 

She stared at him, her eyes softening slightly. “You and that smooth talking mouth of yours, Sallow,” she huffed. 

A smile flashed on his lips, but a shadow of concern drifted into his eyes just as quickly. “This defeatist talk. Is it because of Prewett and what happened this evening?” 

MC dipped her gaze to his neck, her fingers toying at the open collar of his black shirt as she swallowed past the ache in her throat. “He could have died. Seeing him like that…” She paused, horror clamping her in a vice. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “It was my fault. He wouldn’t have been in those tunnels if I hadn’t told him about them. You were right. It was me. I sent word to him, and now he is in St Mungo’s fighting for his life. All because of me.” 

A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. “How did you tell him?” 

Warmth crept across her cheeks, but she didn’t flinch or hide from him. “We have a secret method of communication. Please, don’t ask me to explain. The less you know about it, the better. Just in case this all goes to shit.” 

“You know trust needs to work both ways,” he said quietly, his eyes guarded. “You said you wanted to trust me, but I need to be able to trust you, too.” 

She nodded. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “Any other information you share with me, I will tell you if I intend to share it with Leander. Like you said, we are all on the same side here.” 

Sebastian held on to his wariness, but he was gentle as he held her chin and bent his head to hers. “It will be a cold day in hell before I trust an Auror, but I hear you. Thank you for telling me the truth.” 

His lips were warm and soft, and MC welcomed the feel of his kiss, drawing a little comfort from the intimacy. Each kiss, each caress of his hands eased the tightness in her tense muscles, added a seal to the spoken bond of trust they needed to enforce between them. Her blood fired with a different kind of magic that came from the unexplainable pull he had on her, their bodies seeming to have an understanding far beyond their comprehension. 

Once again, she found herself curled against him, his arms holding her close as they drowsed on the edge of sleep. His hands roamed up and down her back, shaping her hips and sliding contentedly along her thigh. The occasional soft brush of lips against her face, ear and neck sent shivers across her flesh. As intimate and as comforting this shared closeness felt, MC could not shake that uneasy niggle that something wasn’t quite right. 

The hour was very late when she whispered in his ear that she needed to excuse herself for a moment. He mumbled sleepily, a soft smile lingering on his lips after she pressed a long kiss there before slipping from the warmth of his bed. The air was cold, goosebumps prickling her skin as she pulled on her boots and selected a warm robe from her chest. Pausing at the tent entrance, she glanced back towards the bed, soaking in the image of Sebastian asleep, his hair tumbled against the pillow. 

“Please, trust me,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.” 

Quietly slipping out into the night, her breath fogged before her face as she hurried away from the tent, not wanting the snap of her Disapparating to wake him. The stars shone above her head, innocent observers to the dark and twisted lives that played out below. Under the cover of some nearby trees, MC felt a flutter of anticipation behind her ribs, bracing herself for the long distance she needed to propel herself across. Closing her eyes, she pictured the city of London, her focus centred on the aged cobbled street of Diagon Alley. 

In the shadow of the pitched tents in camp, a figure stood very still, eyes watching as the robed figure of MC left the tent and hurried into the trees. After the crack of her magic made her vanish, a slow grin spread across a knowing mouth, and the figure turned to go and make their report. 

Leander 

Arriving at St Mungo’s and being tended by Healers became a patchwork of hazy memories that came to Leander in jumbled flashes. The pain in his chest cancelled a lot of lucid moments out, the bitter taste of blood thick in his mouth. Words of reassurance had been spoken into his ear, the gentle hands of Auror Montgomery touching to his brow in hesitant comfort before the Healers had urged her to leave him to rest. In the silence of his designated hospital room, the tangled web of his memories rushed in, and his slowly healing chest began to quicken as he remembered MC being there, the tears on her cheeks. Perhaps most shocking of all, was Sallow. He had helped her. He had helped him. 

The healing potions and spells had been strong, knocking him out into a deep, restful sleep. His ribs had begun to knit together, the cracks and breaks becoming smooth bone as though they had never been ruined. His lungs repaired, making his breaths return to their gentle rhythm once more. His head had been cleaned, his hair neatly combed, the wound at the back soon to be a distant, painful memory. Even his hospital issued robe was free of any stain, a spotless, crisp white, edged in blue. The beauty of magic being able to erase all physical traces. The mental struggle was another matter entirely.

Waking from his sleep, Leander blinked slowly against the low light of a bedside lantern, the room still and quiet. There was a lingering ache in his chest, but he could breathe freely, rolling his head against the plush pillow and then stilling as he realised the warm pressure of a hand clasped with his. Glancing down, a swift breath left his lips in surprise at the sight of MC.

Seated in a hard hospital chair, her head was laying against his bed sheets, her dark hair pooled against the starched white, her hand wrapped around his as she slept. There were dark smudges under her closed eyes, but her features were relaxed, lips slightly parted. There was nobody else in the room, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been there, and if anyone had seen the familiar way she lay with him. It was a risk to be caught with her like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand from her grip. Instead, he kept still, watching her rest as he had done so many nights when she had stayed with him, his thumb gently stroking against her warm skin. 

He must have dozed off again, because the next thing he knew, he felt the press of a kiss to his forehead. Blinking his eyes open, he stared up into flawless, spring sky blue, a smile lingering on MC’s face as she stared down at him. 

“Ah, so you’ve decided to join the land of the living after all,” MC said softly, she gave his hand a squeeze, a shadow flickering in her gaze. “You scared me, Lee. Don’t you dare do that again, you hear? I forbid it.” 

Amusement twitched at his mouth. “And miss waking up to this beautiful smile? I shall have to think about it.” 

Her lips parted and she huffed a short laugh. “Leander Prewett, when did you become such a smooth talker?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he grinned. “It could be all the potions and medicine I’ve swallowed giving me superpowers.” 

“All the pretty nurses had better watch out, then,” she smiled, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed, although she kept hold of his hand. He could feel the warmth of it spreading up his arm, but reminded himself not to read too much into it. 

“You are taking a risk being here with me,” he said, his voice a little raspy still. “Especially after that ridiculous report in the Daily Prophet. If you are seen with me it could jeopardise you in the camp.” 

Her face darkened and she looked down at their joined hands. “It might be a bit late for that. I think I have fucked up anyway. I’ve got a bad feeling, Lee. Something just feels off, and I don’t like it.” 

“What do you mean? Tell me,” he urged, frowning slightly as he tried to sit up a bit more. She put her hand against his shoulder and pressed him back against the pillows with a firm look. 

“Just remember you are here to heal and rest,” she said, holding him there until he allowed himself to relax. Slipping her hand back into her lap, she glanced towards the door and leant closer to murmur quietly. “Rookwood is rolling over too easily. I don’t like how he just accepts everything that I say with a smile. He fucked me over once before, there is no reason for him to not try it again. I know he already has an idea to drain the ancient magic from me, but I can’t get rid of this nagging that there is something else.” 

Leander’s frown deepened and he pushed back against the fog lingering at the edges of his memories, rubbing his face as he tried to remember his conversation with Andrew Larson before the raid on the tunnels. 

“I mentioned Merlin and Morgana to Andrew, and he did find a few documents about them, although there was only a very brief mention of ancient magic,” he said. He gave her a curious look. “He did say something about Rackham, though. He is one of the Keepers below Hogwarts, isn’t he?” 

MC nodded. “Yes, he was a vessel of ancient magic, too. It was his portrait that I spoke to the most about it during my time at Hogwarts. He gave me the impression that he led the other three, but despite the words of wisdom he offered me, I always felt as though he was holding back. All three of them did, to be honest.” 

“Andrew tells me that there is a lot more to be discovered when it comes to Rackham, that there are files in the Department of Mysteries about him and his visions. He was a Seer, and whatever he relayed to the Ministry is kept under strict lock and key. This isn't an unusual practice. Predictions about the future can be dangerous if in the wrong hands.” 

“What if the visions are about a particular person? Do they not have the right to view these predictions?” MC asked, her chin tilting upwards. “Do you think there are predictions about me in there?” 

“I honestly have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I suppose it is possible considering the ability you both share. I don't have access to the Department of Mysteries and neither does Andrew up to a point. We have spoken before about how secretive they are.” 

MC looked deep in thought, her teeth worrying at her lower lip for a moment as she stared blankly across the room. “Maybe it is time that I paid a visit to Professor Rackham again,” she said, her voice tinged with reluctance. She gave him a dark, resigned look. “It would mean returning to Hogwarts and the chamber beneath. I can’t say the idea is all that appealing, but if I explain the situation, perhaps I can get Rackham to talk.” 

“I can speak to the Head of the Auror Office and set things in motion with Headmaster Black,” Leander offered, that eager feeling washing through him at the thought of getting back to work. “I can go to Hogwarts with you, if you wish. You don’t have to go alone.” 

Her eyes seemed full of sadness as she looked at him, her other hand shifting to close over both of their clasped ones. “You really are too good for this world, Lee. Look at you offering to follow me into even more trouble when you’re lying here in this hospital bed. You don’t deserve such darkness, especially from me,” she said, blinking quickly as she dropped her gaze. 

“Hey, I didn’t take the role of an Auror expecting rainbows and unicorns, MC. Getting hurt is a risk, but it’s part of the territory. It’s why they reserve beds for us here. Don’t take the responsibility of this onto your own shoulders. I won’t let you,” he insisted. 

She gave a nod, but avoided his gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Do it. Set up a visit to Hogwarts, and as soon as possible. I don’t want to give Rookwood too much time with his plotting. Sebastian and I are going to keep away from the camp for a few days under the ruse of seeking out more deposits for me to absorb.” 

“A ruse?” He frowned. “What will you really be doing?” 

MC leaned even closer, her eyes darting towards the door again. “I want to revisit Isadora’s old haunts, maybe there was something I missed the first time around,” she whispered. “I also want to track down more information about my mother. If she truly still lives, I want to find her. Ominis is helping me with that. His aunt, my mother’s sister, left him her house in Norfolk, and he has given me permission to go there and read some old family journals that may help. Rookwood must not know about my connection to the Gaunts. I’d rather Marvolo Gaunt doesn’t find out, either.” 

“Okay. Just be careful,” he nodded, holding her hand a little bit tighter. His other hand drifted up to brush back strands of her hair, his fingertips grazing against the shell of her ear. “And stay in touch via the parchment. I cannot help but worry about you.” 

“Only if you do the same,” she said, meeting his gaze. 

He couldn’t stop the pleased smile curving his mouth. “You worry about me?” 

“That is not what I said, Prewett,” she said, sitting up primly, but warmth lingered in her eyes. 

Leander would have loved to say more, to tease more smiles to her mouth, but the door to his room opened. MC jolted and slid her hand from his, rising quickly to her feet as she turned to face the door. The loss of her warmth was regrettable, but he too had stiffened in the bed as Auror Montgomery entered, pausing in surprise to see MC standing there. Leander felt his cheeks and neck heat up, adjusting his bed sheet nervously. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Montgomery said, her own cheeks reddening. “I didn’t expect you to have visitors already at this hour.” 

Her gaze darted curiously between MC and himself, and he cleared his throat, his jumbled thoughts grasping for something to say, but MC seemed to have things under control. She stepped towards Montgomery. 

“I should be the one to apologise,” she said smoothly. “I took a risk coming here tonight, but I needed to make sure that Lea…erm, Auror Prewett was well. I thought a visit during the day would raise too many questions.” 

Montgomery arched a brow. “And your visit now doesn’t warrant a few curious questions?” 

MC stiffened. “Considering I saved your neck tonight, any questions you may think you have will surely be kept behind closed lips. Lives are at risk, Auror Montgomery, including your own now that the Ashwinders know your face.” 

Leander bit his lip as the two women stared each other down. He had become so accustomed to the rare warmth that MC allowed him to see, that to witness the colder, harder side of her still managed to make him shiver. Perhaps more surprising, was the way Montgomery kept her head up, and rather than cower under what was surely a hard glare in MC’s eyes, she merely nodded. 

“I must thank you for your assistance. You did indeed save our lives tonight, both you and Mr Sallow have my sincere thanks,” Montgomery said. “I did not expect it from Sallow. You will forgive my surprise that he leant a hand.” 

“All you have heard about Sebastian is what the Aurors want you to hear,” MC said. “I am fortunate to know him better than that. Things aren’t always what they appear to be, Montgomery. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to Scotland before I am missed.” 

When MC turned to him, Leander saw the hardened expression on her face, but for him, she allowed a softness to darken her eyes. “Rest up now, Prewett,” she said. “I will be in touch.” 

Leander nodded, his eyes doing the talking, and then she was gone, walking swiftly out of the door into the corridor beyond. Montgomery watched her go before closing the door softly, her gaze turning to him with burning curiosity. 

“Before you say anything, MC is right. The less you know about her, the safer you will be,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. 

Montgomery moved closer towards the bed, her hands smoothing the front of her skirts. “The last thing I would ever wish to do is cause you any trouble, Prewett,” she said carefully, but her eyes were still lit with that burning curiosity. “But, anyone who sees the two of you together can clearly see that there is something between you. You did not see what I did whilst you were badly hurt. This is much more than an Auror and his informant. That girl cares for you, and deeply. Only a fool would not see it.” 

“I have known her for a very long time,” he said, reaching up to fiddle with the front of the hospital gown. “We were friends as children, school friends. That was partly the reason Harrington assigned me to her case in the first place, thinking that our previous bond would be beneficial in coaxing her to cooperate.” 

Montgomery frowned slightly as she sat in the chair that MC had used, her back perfectly straight, hands clasped in her lap. “Well, I must say it seems to have worked wonderfully well. She seems rather taken with you. It is puzzling, though. From reading the case files, I thought that she was romantically involved with Sallow. He was awfully touchy with her. You could almost say possessive. I am still in shock how he helped us, he is not what I expected at all.” 

Leander closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over him. “What can I say? This is a complicated case.” 

Never had a statement been more appropriate. Montgomery eyed him, lifting a hand as though to place it on his forearm, and then thought better of it. She pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket instead and tucked it into his hand. 

“I can see you are tired, but the reason I came is to give you this,” she said, her eyes lighting up with that fire and spirit he had come to recognise. His fingers curled around the smooth parchment. “I swiped it from the office just now and came straight here. The other Aurors were more successful in the tunnels, they have seized many crates of valuable items that are being assessed as we speak. There was also a ledger full of names and dates, but this…this is a map of other locations situated around the British Isles. These could be more storage locations, or dens, perhaps.” 

Leander sat up straighter and opened the folded parchment, his tiredness forgotten. “This is huge, Montgomery. Why did you bring it to me? Surely Harrington and the others will be already planning to investigate these locations.” 

She smiled, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “They would if they knew about it. I happened to be having a poke around the books they had seized, and this fell out of one. When I saw it was a map, my curiosity got the better of me, and then I knew it would be of importance when I saw the symbol at the top.” 

She reached forward to point at the little swirling icon near the top, and it was only then that Leander noted the date in the top corner. He met Montgomery’s amber eyes, his own curiosity firing into life. “That is the symbol for ancient magic,” he whispered. “How did you know that?” 

Montgomery blushed furiously and twisted her hands in her lap. “Well, you see, I was a second year when MC came to Hogwarts. When the truth about her spread around the school, I was in awe of her, and the magic that she could wield. I have been reading anything that I could get my hands on about ancient magic, which to be honest is very little. She fascinates me. I couldn’t believe my luck when I landed a position on this case, and to be partnered with you of all Aurors. You have a connection to the woman herself!” 

Leander stared at Montgomery, his lips parted. “You…you make her seem like a…a goddess, or a super human entity,” he stuttered. 

“Well, isn’t she?” Montgomery shrugged. “She has power beyond anything the rest of us can understand, she defeated a goblin rebellion and fought against the most powerful dark wizard of our time, or at least so we thought. Now, she has come out of Azkaban seemingly unfazed, and walks amongst the most dangerous wizards in the country. To come face to face with her was extraordinary, especially when it became apparent that she was saving us.” 

Leander swallowed and leant back against his pillows. To him, she had always been MC, the girl he couldn’t stop staring at over the plants in Herbology. So caught up in how enamoured he was of her, he hadn’t given much thought to her having an elevated status in the eyes of others. He felt reasonably confident that he knew the girl behind the mystical powers, behind the articles written about her. The pedestal he had placed her upon varied significantly from the one Montgomery clearly cherished. 

He turned his gaze to Montgomery, remembering the time she had almost begged to accompany him on his meeting with MC, the sparkle of curiosity that constantly lingered in her gaze. A chill swept down his spine as he came to the realisation that others could see the same in MC, hero worshipping her in ways that meant they would follow wherever she led. With all that ancient magic at her fingertips, she could summon an army and cause mass destruction if she chose the dark path. 

For the first time he seriously considered how dangerous MC actually was, and how deeply he had involved himself in assisting her. He swallowed thickly again, his throat unbearably dry. 

“Did you still hold this fascination with her when she was imprisoned for murder?” He asked. 

Montgomery grimaced and shook her head. “I was devastated. She went from saving the world, to taking lives. It fuelled my motivation to become an Auror, though. As I progressed through my training, I came to wonder if perhaps things were not so black and white. Seeing your first dead body raises questions one would rather not face,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Tonight merely confirmed it for me. The way she is with you, saving you like that, and she even said it herself just now. Things are not always what they seem, there are shades of grey blended in the blacks and the whites of the world, and underneath all that power, is she not a human like the rest of us. I believe she is.” 

“What are you saying?” He asked carefully. 

She nodded down at the parchment map in his hands. “That map means something. I couldn’t fully understand it beyond recognising that ancient magic symbol. Some of the locations are familiar, of course, but I am certain this is far more valuable in the hands of MC than in the hands of the Auror Office.” 

“But, that’s withholding evidence, Montgomery,” he chided gently, the rule breaking chaffing a little despite his own little discretions. “Is that really how you want to start your career?” 

Her face settled into one of determination, her eyes lit with it. “I believe in seeking out the truth, and gaining justice for those who deserve it. You strike me as being of like mind, Auror Prewett, and I don’t believe for one moment that you believe MC to be the villain the world wants to paint her as. I would even go so far as to say that you would do anything for her, even break a few rules for her, rules such as not becoming emotionally involved with a suspect.” 

Her eyebrows lifted in a knowing smirk, and Leander felt a fierce flush heat his cheeks. 

“I want to help you,” she said firmly, her hands gripped tightly in her lap. “Taking the map was my first step into dangerous territory, I am fully aware of it, but I think this will be worth it. MC is one for the history books, and I want to be a part of it. Let me help you, Auror Prewett. Let me help her.” 

Leander was astounded, and he sat there staring at his new partner with fresh eyes. She was right about this being dangerous territory, and another person in the know merely added more risk, but it would be mighty lovely to have someone on his side in the office other than Andrew. Perhaps he should doubt her intentions, maybe this could be a trap to catch him out, but the way she stared at him, she appeared resolute and fully aware of what she was saying to him. He glanced down at the map, noting the locations, one of which was Hogwarts School. What did it mean? 

Montgomery was already in it up to her neck stealing this map, and she had seen too much already between him and MC. It was a cold thought, but if the circumstances required it, Montgomery could be silenced. It made him quiver in horror just to think of it, but he knew MC wouldn’t hesitate should this prove to be a trap, neither would Sallow. 

“You know the risks this would present, and not just to you, but those you are close to as well,” he said slowly, his gaze serious. 

She nodded. “Anything worth fighting for always comes with risk.” 

“And you think MC is worth fighting for?” 

“I really hope so, Auror Prewett,” she said, her eyes shining with her hope. “The potential she has…the good she could do. Is that a yes? You’ll let me help you?” 

Leander sighed and smoothed his hand over the map before nodding. “Yes, you can help me,” he replied. Montgomery uttered an excited squeal and clapped her hands together. He bit back a smile. “You may as well start by dropping the formality. Call me Leander.” 

Her smile lit up her face. “And you may call me Ivy.” 

Sebastian 

Waking up to find MC missing had tightened the ball of lead that had settled in his stomach ever since Rookwood had left the tent. Both Luella and her father were dangerous people, and MC had boldly thrown down the gauntlet in front of them. He hadn’t argued when she had voiced her concerns that something felt off, but reassuring her seemed the best option. Inside, he was shitting a brick. 

Launching himself out of his bunk, he pulled on his boots, the panic like vicious claws as he double checked that his wand was in his holster. He had to find her.

Where had she gone? The fear that Rookwood had taken her hovered, but she could fight him off fairly well, and she wouldn’t have gone quietly, either. The other option presented a different kind of fear, the fear of what it meant for their relationship if she had run off to London to find Prewett. She said she had chosen him, that she would have to let the Auror go, but the way she had crumbled at the sight of Prewett bloodied up and dying fed into his flames of envy and fear. Not only did he fear losing her, but she could end up blowing the entire cover story if caught being soft for an Auror.

Throwing on his jacket and running a quick hand through his jumble of hair, he strode out of the tent, greeted with the cold air of pre-dawn. A strip of gold and pink lit the horizon, the nearby trees a dark shadow crouched at the base of the nearby peaks. His lungs burned as he breathed in the chill, his breath out fogging before his face as he glanced around camp. At this hour, it was quiet, the fires burning low. A distant bird gave an early call at the impending rise of the sun, the last few stars still clinging to the sky. 

He missed Rosier, a second pair of eyes would have been rather handy about now as he stalked through the camp, his gaze darting into every corner. His stomach rumbled in protest, but breakfast would have to wait. He needed to lay eyes on MC before anything else took priority. Footsteps sounded behind him, boots on packed dirt, and he turned, glancing over his shoulder. He paused as Luella gave him a sultry smirk, her hair neatly pinned back from her face now. 

“Morning, handsome,” she purred, stepping closer towards him. “You’re up early. What’s the matter? I’m surprised your little bed warmer didn’t keep you tucked up under your blankets. Or, maybe…just maybe, she isn’t there?” 

‘Where is she?” His eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing against the cold, mountain air. 

Luella chuckled, one hand on her hip. “She is a piece of work, your little prisoner, isn’t she? So hard, so cold, so uptight. How is cuddling up to her better than what we had? I was never that cold with you, sweetie. We were all about fire and fun.” 

“Enough with the games, Luella,” he said, his voice flat and bored. His stomach twisted, waiting for the trap to spring. She was far too cocky not to know anything. “Clearly, you have a point to make, so make it. Where is MC?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged, her smile borderline devious. She twirled her wand playfully. “Although, if I were to put a few galleons on it, I would wager she is in the company of Aurors right now. I’m right, aren’t I? You think I'm a fool, Sebastian, and you know how I hate to be made a fool of, don’t you?” 

���I don’t think you’re a fool at all, Luella,” he said, keeping his face cool and calm. He even dared to smirk a little. “As for the Aurors, I couldn’t confirm or deny such a claim as I have no idea, either. If she is with them, then she has played me, too.” 

Her smile widened, her head tilting as she studied him. “Interesting. Well, I guess we shall find out.” 

He frowned. “Oh? How’s that?” 

“Father wishes to see you,” she said, her smile disappearing. “He has a little surprise for you.” 

Sebastian stilled, his smirk fading as he realised he was unlikely to enjoy this little surprise. Luella came closer, standing before him, her eyes glittering with something that made his spine freeze. She held out her hand to him. “Shall we?” 

He felt sick. Everything inside of him screamed to run in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t do that. There was too much at stake here. Feigning a confidence he didn’t feel, he smiled as he slipped his hand into Luella’s. She Disapparated instantly, dropping them into the centre of a freezing ruin, stone walls crumbling against a backdrop of wild Scottish landscape. 

“Ah, at last! Here he is,” Rookwood announced, holding out his arms in a gesture of welcome, his smile arrogant and cold. “Welcome, dear boy, welcome. We have been waiting for you.” 

A muffled cry came from the side and he turned his head, his stomach dropping so violently that he actually doubled over clutching at it. “No,” he gasped, the word a strangled sound that did nothing to convey the sheer horror and fear that seized him. 

Rookwood laughed, his gaze turned to a sky breaking with the dawn of a new day. Luella gripped Sebastian’s arm, her breath against his cheek mingling with the frigid cold breeze that swept through the ancient castle walls. “I warned you, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I warned you this would happen, but you went and fucked me around anyway. Nobody makes a fool out of me, Sebastian. Nobody.” 

The horror of this situation sunk wicked, cold claws into him, rendering him speechless, and all the while he could hear this screaming terror spiralling through his head. It was like he was 16 years old again, old bones at his feet, and everything he ever loved was about to be ripped from his grasp. 

MC 

Walking the clean corridors of St Mungo’s hospital, you could glean the sense of safety that came from good people doing all that they could to assist others. The atmosphere was one of warmth, protection, Healers and nurses moving about the building offering gentle smiles as they passed. If they knew who she was, she didn’t feel any sense of hostility despite the rumpled, dark nature of her clothing, or the untidy locks of her hair that fell loose about her shoulders. 

Exhaustion pulled at her, dragging her downwards towards a haze of fog, and she longed to just curl up and vanish into it. That persistent sense that something loomed clung to her, something dark and dangerous just waiting to jump out and destroy everything. Not even the relief of seeing Leander sitting up in bed could dispel it. MC hugged her arms around herself and walked slowly towards the hospital foyer where she could Apparate, finding herself filled with a longing to be held by someone who would tell her that everything would be alright. 

The story of her life. She had always held a deep and profound longing for that. 

Sebastian waited for her back at camp, no doubt still asleep, his smart mouth softly parted, his pretty hair wild against the pillow. He would hold her. He would hold her for as long and as hard as she wished. She just had to say the word. 

Not for the first time, she heard softened footfalls in the corridor behind her, glancing back to just catch the glimpse of a robe swirling out of sight around a corner. She hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. The corridor remained silent, the lamps glowing to provide a low light at this hour. Her sense of impending doom seemed to be making her paranoid, for she felt certain that this robed figure was following her. 

Continuing on her way, MC glanced out of a window, the sky beginning to lighten with the first promise of dawn. Quickening her steps, she felt eager to get back to Sebastian. They needed to gather their things and leave, setting out to revisit Isadora’s old hideaways. MC had the urge to walk where she had once trod, soak up the ambience of those old places in the hopes of bridging some connection. 

As she entered the foyer, soft footsteps made her turn again, and this time she caught sight of a slender figure in a dark grey robe, the hood raised to cast shadow over the face of whoever it was. They appeared to be female, slender hands tugging the hood lower as they dipped their head. 

MC frowned, her hands clenching. “Are you following me?” 

The robed girl paused, her back to MC, her head turning slightly as though they might meet her gaze. But, the sharp crack of magic filled the space instead, the robed figure becoming a twisted swirl of black as they Disapparated. 

MC flinched, swearing under her breath. That impending sense of doom seemed to sharpen, and her chest tightened. The urge to get to Sebastian swelled and she pictured the inside of his tent back at camp, focusing all of her magic into getting her there. She desperately needed to see his face.

Sebastian 

If he closed his eyes hard enough, the memory played out as clear as though he was right back there in the moment. He could feel the gentle dip and sway of the little boat, he could see the way the starlit sky reflected off the surface of the inky black waters of the lake. In the distance, Hogwarts stood proud and strong, the windows lit with the warm glow of welcome. His little freckled hand gripped the side of the boat, the other wrapped tightly around that of his twin. Inside, his stomach was a riot of nerves as he looked up at the huge castle. His heart squeezed at the memory of his mother’s embrace, her tear filled eyes as she bid him farewell. He wanted to make her proud. He would show her. He would prove that he could be as brilliantly clever as she was. 

Daunted at the prospect now as he faced where he would live for the foreseeable future, he maintained his brave face, squeezing Anne’s hand and pretending that it was she he was comforting and not the other way around. 

“Don’t worry, Sebby,” Anne whispered. “We have each other. Always.” 

When he opened his eyes, it was no longer night, and the sky bled with a crimson sunrise. A cold wind gusted against him, ruffling his hair as he choked and spat dirt from his lips. The pain crashed against him like a wave, warping his vision as he twitched and bit back his screams. Fighting it with everything he had, he thrashed on the ground in the centre of the ruin, blinking furiously until he could see her. All the time he could see her, it would be alright. 

Anne was on her knees, her mouth gagged and her hands bound at her back. Tears streamed down her sunken cheeks as she watched him. Powerless, weak, trapped. His twin, his other half, the stronger beat of his heart. Kneeling in the dirt with a wand aimed at her head. All the time he took the pain, that wand remained silent. 

“Crucio!” 

His back arched from the ground, the scream that left his throat left him raw, and tears bled from his eyes. How many times had he inflicted this pain on others? Too many to count. It was so very different to be on the other end of it, but he would take it, he would take everything they had to give to keep their attention off Anne. 

His skin felt like it was peeling back away from his flesh, his very bones screamed in agony, wildfire spreading and pulsing until he had no control over anything. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Rookwood called out, delight ringing in his tone as though this was some kind of party game. 

Sebastian could not stop shaking, his teeth chattering madly as his eyes rolled trying to focus. He could taste blood in his mouth. He had bitten his own tongue. 

A booted foot pressed against the side of his face, pulling an agonised sound from him at being touched. His skin protested savagely at the contact. 

“You know better than anyone how much I detest a traitor, Sallow,” Rookwood purred, bending down to look at him, lip curled in disgust. “Think of this as a little warning, if you would.” 

The boot lifted and Sebastian writhed, panting and spitting the blood from his mouth. He glared up at Rookwood with all the will he could muster. 

“My, my, you are a stubborn bastard,” Rookwood chuckled, stroking his chin. “Bring the twin.” 

Sebastian grunted in his effort to get up, falling back into the dirt as Anne was dragged across the ground towards him. She was weeping profusely, fighting her bonds as she was thrown down beside him. Sebastian reached for her with arms shaking so badly he thought he would miss, but his fingers grasped her shawl and he dragged her closer. She moaned, the muffled sound of his name coming from behind her gag. 

“Anne,” he managed to gasp, holding her to him. With no hands free to return his embrace, Anne pressed her head to his chest, nuzzling against him like a tiny kitten. 

“How touching,” Rookwood crooned. “Sibling love. The things we do for our loved ones, hmm? You can imagine my surprise when I sent for your sister to come and pay us a visit. I do love it when I come across an old acquaintance. It certainly shed some light over some things I have been pondering about.” 

He chuckled again and Anne twisted to glare up at him, practically growling with defiance. Rookwood bent to grasp her chin, his wicked grin so gleeful and cold. “Look at you, precious girl, still fighting against the gift I gave you all those years ago. You and your brother have remarkable spirit. Tough, little Scots, brave until the very end, I don’t doubt.” 

Anne ripped herself from his grip, falling back against the ground with a thump. Sebastian dragged her into him again, shuddering violently, but determined to hang on to her. 

“All we need now is my ancient magic wielder, and then the party will be complete,” Rookwood smirked, glancing around the ruin with smug arrogance. “It’s time for us all to have a little chat.” 

Dread coursed through Sebastian, his fingers like claws as he clutched a shivering Anne to his chest. They were waiting for MC. He was a quivering wreck on the ground, barely able to breathe let alone square up to anyone, and both of his girls were in danger. His worst nightmares had become twisted reality. 

He looked down at Anne, her big brown eyes looking back at him, eyes so like his own. All the bitterness and fury evaporated, and all he could see was the love he had for her, every time she had held his hand in comfort, every time he had ever returned the favour. He’d do anything for her. It was his job to protect her, and he’d gladly die doing it. 

“It’s…alright…” He managed to gasp, his shaking hand touching her hair. “I promise…it’s alright.” 

He fiercely wished that he could believe it. 

To be continued...

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@eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @evaslytherpuff @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[evaslytherpuff]

I’m not ready for the next part!!!😱😱

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Chapter 13 - 14.2k words

Tags: NSFW / Dark Magic / Angst / Injury / PTSD

Chapter Master List and Ao3 link

Chapter Thirteen: Of Faerie Rings and Offerings

Sebastian

Another wild, Highland trail to follow, and more hours of tension, as they walked through the cold, morning fog. As hardy as he was, living outdoors and growing up through the unpredictable patterns of Scottish weather, Sebastian had wrapped a warm, wool cloak about himself before setting out with MC in search of their next location. He walked on ahead, MC lagging behind him, her breaths laboured and her mood quiet. She wasn’t up to full fitness yet despite the potions she took each morning, but insisted she was fine every time he paused to check on her.

Turning once again on the path, his gaze taking her in, a small crease appeared on his brow at the paleness of her face contrasting with the dark smudges under her eyes. The last two nights had been rough, sleeping out in the wild landscapes in their tent, the tension thick after the confrontation with Anne. His twin’s words had intended to cut, and they certainly felt heavy over his head, slicing open his fears that MC would leave him. 

Waiting for MC to catch him up, he pulled his cloak closer against the damp chill, moisture heavy in the air from a lingering fog. MC slowed to a stop beside him, strands of damp hair stuck to her forehead and cheek. She gave him an enquiring look, glancing around at the endless sentinels of trees that surrounded them. 

“Why have we stopped? Are we close to the fairy ring?” 

“It shouldn’t be too much further,” he said, managing a reassuring smile. “How are you holding up? That last hill was quite the climb.” 

“I’m fine,” she assured him, her chin tilting up in that stubborn way of hers. “I told you to stop fussing over me like I am some kind of china doll that’s about to break.” 

He grinned and brushed gloved fingers against her temple, smoothing back the loose strands of hair there. “I know. That doesn’t mean I listened, though. I am merely adopting the manly role and looking out for the fair maiden in my charge.” 

Her look of disbelief was swiftly followed by a ‘pfft’ of laughter. “Oh, but of course!” She scoffed, planting her hands onto her hips. “Never mind the fact that my magic far outweighs yours in power, and if anything should befall us, then it is more likely going to be the fair maiden who saves the day. What, pray tell, will your manly role involve then?”

A spark of delight filled him at the sight of her mouth curving into a smile. Her laughter may have been an attempt to mock him, but he would take it. Her mood had dropped so low over the last few days due to the lack of ancient magic deposits, and the emotional weight she seemed to carry had put up tense walls between them. He wondered if she would rise to even riskier bait, his fingers shifting to capture her chin, tilting her face up towards him just so. Her eyes flashed, her mouth a tempting pout of pretty pink as he gave her his most wicked smirk. 

“I can think of a few manly roles I could adopt to offer my thanks to the fair maiden for saving my backside,” he murmured, daring to lean close enough until he could feel her breath on his cheek. “Especially for a maiden as fair as you.” 

“Smooth, Sallow,” she said, arching a brow, but not before she had visibly swallowed at their closeness. He had caught that dark spark in her eyes before she had quickly smothered it. Her hand caught hold of his wrist and tugged his hand from her chin. “But, you’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” he grinned, tipping her a cheeky wink. 

MC rolled her eyes and set off along the forest trail again. “Come on, let’s keep at it. You said the fairy ring was close. You can tell me more about your manly deeds with the Ashwinders as we walk. Impress me with your villainous skills.” 

She threw a smirk over her shoulder and he felt his spirits rise a little as he stepped out to join her, matching her step so they could walk side by side, careful to avoid tripping on rogue rocks or tree roots. 

“What do you want to know? I have some rather miserable tales about debt collecting on Rookwood’s behalf, or there is always the noble act of robbing from shipping crates arriving from far flung places.” 

Her side eye game was strong as she shook her head. “I think you might need to check on the definition of what a noble act entails. What are in these shipping crates anyway? Do you know? I hope it's not beasts.” 

He met her narrow eyed suspicion with a firm denial. “I stay well clear of any poaching,” he assured her. “That side of the gang is definitely not my area of interest.”  

“No, you are far happier with the torture and thievery,” she said sourly. She frowned thoughtfully. “Does it get any easier the more you do it?” 

The dark shadows of memories hovered greedily at the corners of his mind, and he adjusted his cloak, his face grim. “No,” he said regretfully. He sighed, his gaze scanning their surroundings, always on watch. “Thievery is probably the easiest job to do. Most of the crates that we stash have rare items such as spell books, or ancient artefacts from other countries. Those are the ones that intrigue me the most. I was working the docks for a while, particularly at Dover. Rookwood has a hidden lock up in the tunnels that are carved inside the white cliffs. Those tunnels date back centuries, carved out by Saxons or Vikings I suspect. Hidden by enchantments, Rookwood has quite a decent stash there.” 

MC remained quiet, appearing to think this over as she chewed her lower lip. She gave him a curious glance. “Have you ever been tempted to sneak an item for yourself?”

He gave a sly smile, shrugging his shoulders. “I may have pilfered the odd book, you know me. But, not too often. I couldn’t risk being caught. I’m with the Ashwinders for a reason, and I can’t afford to lose sight of that over a few items. The time will come when I get my hands on his collection.” 

Her expression soured and she dipped her gaze. Anne was a sore subject, but his determination to fix his sister remained the same. He couldn’t just let it go, not when they could be so close. After what MC had told him from her talk with Rookwood, killing him would lift Anne’s curse. It might even be worth the time in Azkaban to just end him and suffer the consequences. Anne would be well, Rookwood would get what was coming to him, but he would be parted from those he loved once again.

Lost in thought, he was surprised when MC came to a stop, his eyes immediately scanning the path ahead for any trouble. The path had widened slightly, the trees here mostly ash and old oaks, the ground a crispy carpet of browns and golds from the Autumn fall. Ahead was a clearing, a first glimpse of ancient stones set into a circle. 

“This is it,” MC whispered, a look of intense concentration on her face. 

Ancient stone circles were littered all over the Scottish wilderness, some called them fairy rings, others pagan ritual sites. Whatever they were called, there was always a healthy amount of respect and awe for these places. Untouched for centuries, they held a magical aura of their own, but it was the glow of ancient magic that they needed from this one. After nearly a week, they had found nothing.  

“Do we need to move closer?” He asked, watching her carefully. He couldn’t see the traces, but sometimes he could sense a strange energy in the air, although this could merely be coincidence. After all, he had magical blood of his own, and magic could be sensed if one concentrated hard enough. 

They moved towards the clearing slowly, the stones standing as solid and true as the day they were placed, any greenery that had dared to encroach seemed to do so with its own level of respect. MC moved towards the centre of the ring, turning in a circle as she studied the stones. Markings had been carved into them, symbols that were intriguing but very few looked familiar to Sebastian. 

MC sighed, her shoulders slumping. She shook her head and gave him a defeated look. No ancient magic here, either. All that walking for nothing. What were they doing wrong? 

MC

The leather of Noctua Gaunt’s journal was supple and smooth, the book a pleasant weight in her hands. MC let her fingers slide over the cover, deep in thought as she sat with her back resting against a tree under a canopy of tall ash. She had never known her mother, and to read about her within the pages of a book was strange, disconnected. It made her appear as a character in a story rather than a living and breathing person, and yet, she was out there in the world somewhere if records proved true. The fear that lingered in MC’s heart that Elizabeth had met a similar fate to Noctua kept taunting her. Perhaps she was foolish to get her hopes up, and any daydreams about a reunion were neither helpful nor wise.

Elizabeth Gaunt had fallen for a Muggle. A forbidden love for a daughter who came from a line of pure magical blood, her family staunch believers in keeping magic within the bloodlines. The emotions may be written by a second hand, but MC still felt an affinity to a young girl who felt confused about her own feelings. The circumstances may have been different, but MC was confounded by the way her heart seemed to find itself torn between two very different men. However she tried to imagine a life with either of them, it always came to the fear that she would end up destroying them both, as Elizabeth appeared to have ended up destroying her own true love for daring to take what she wanted.

Leander had a pure soul, and she could not bear the thought of dragging him under the shadow of her darkness. She had warned him of such, and yet he remained. Sebastian carried his own darkness, their paths entwined so deeply that surely they were like kindred spirits. His twin thought otherwise. Anne’s bitter prediction that MC would destroy Sebastian in the end still echoed through her thoughts. Could it be so? As much as she resented Anne, her words had struck a nerve, nudging up against the old fears that she had carried throughout her whole life. That she was not worthy of love. Abandoned as a child, never adopted, always on the outside looking in, followed by a darkness that owned her. Always alone, even when she had bound herself to another. 

To take the love that Leander offered so willingly would be a selfish thing to do. It terrified her when she saw that softness in his eyes, how fragile and untouchable it appeared, and if she broke it, which surely she would eventually, then it would be lost forever. The irony of it brought tears to her eyes. In not accepting what he had to offer, she proved only that she returned his affections. If she did not care, she would drain him of all he had to give. It would seem she did care, a lot.

Allowing a tear to escape and roll down her cheek, she thought of Leander, allowing herself to relax the solid walls of protection she had built around herself the last few days. Sebastian had excused himself, wandering off a way under the cover of lingering fog through the trees. The few moments of his absence provided precious time for her to vent the pent up emotion stuffed tightly in her chest. Closing her eyes, all she could see was Leander standing in the kitchen of Shell Cottage, his face a mask of bravery whilst his eyes glittered with his pain. Leaving him like that had been so very difficult, but in the end, it had to be for the best.

Taking a deep breath, MC took out the secret parchment and opened it out on top of the journal, tapping it with her wand and turning up nothing. No messages from Leander.  Swallowing foolish disappointment, she reminded herself that she had a job to do, and she wouldn’t let him down. Wiping the tear from her cheek, she sat up straighter, writing quickly before Sebastian returned. The little tidbit of information that Sebastian had shared about the tunnels in the cliffs at Dover would be valuable information, and she explained quickly. Resisting the urge to add anything personal, she tapped her wand and sent the words on their way to her Auror. 

When Sebastian wandered back through the trees, the low lying mist swirling around his boots, she gave him a wary look. Caught off guard for those brief seconds, she met his gaze and her heart thundered behind her ribs. His look was drenched in curiosity, he knew she was suppressing something, and she feared the questions he would likely ask. She wasn’t ready to answer them. She could feel his need rolling off him in waves, curling with the mists and snaking around her, his eyes almost begging for her to open up to him as he rolled his lower lip thoughtfully. 

Dragging her eyes from him, she stuffed the journal back into her bag and got to her feet, brushing dirt and leaves from her trousers. Barriers firmly back in place, she slung her bag over her shoulder and glanced towards the trail. “We should get moving,” she said stiffly. “We have one more possible location to scout out before nightfall.”

Sebastian paused beside her, picking up his own bag and taking out the map. She could feel the strength of his gaze on her, but kept her own eyes averted, looking down at the markers he had drawn on the map. He pointed at the next location with a grubby finger, small scars that looked like burns from spells embedded on his skin. Hands capable of such destruction, and yet she found she liked looking at them, unable to help herself as she took in the veins on the back of them filled with his life blood. Hands that had held her, touched her in ways that left her breathless. Hands that could kill. 

“There is a village nearby where we could stop for provisions,” he said, showing her on the map. “I’m almost out of snacks, and I’m pretty hungry.”

Risking a look at him, his expression was one of simple enquiry, the earlier raw need gone. Her lips almost curved into a smile. “You had a massive breakfast, Sebastian. How are you so hungry already?”

“It’s all this fresh air and exercise, love,” he smirked, patting his stomach. “It gives one an appetite.”

She dared to poke a finger into the softness of his tummy. He was by no means overweight, but neither was he lean and hard. He had that solid build, with just an edge of softness, a body that was both strong and capable of the most satisfying hugs. She felt warmth flame her cheeks as she recalled curling into him and falling asleep the other night. Clearing her throat, she lifted her eyebrows, flashing him a teasing glance. “Aww, cute and squishy like a teddy bear. Must be all the snacks.”

He scowled and rubbed his stomach again, looking down at it. “Are you suggesting I’m getting chubby?” He asked, pinching at his flesh through his shirt.

She stepped out along the path with a chuckle, glancing back to him, allowing her gaze to sweep slowly over him. There was nothing boyish about him anymore, except for maybe the twinkle in his eyes sometimes, and he definitely wasn’t chubby. Her eyes lingered on the cut of his jaw, darkened with a few days worth of stubble, the strength in his neck and shoulders. She knew all too well how easily he could lift her up. Her fingers clutched at her bag strap as she let her gaze wander down over his torso, lingering on thick, powerful thighs. Solid, strong, but fast, those legs could side step and fall into powerful stances during duels. He could run, too.

Biting her lower lip, her gaze lifted to meet him once more, and she could see the way those chocolate eyes had darkened. Staring each other down under the canopy of the forest, she felt the primal pulse of blatant desire flare in her blood, calling to him. His throat worked as he swallowed, his lips parting slightly as though about to speak.

“Don’t worry, I was merely jesting,” she said quickly, flashing him a quick smile. “I'm sure there are plenty of adoring fans at the duelling pit when you start flexing your prowess.”

Turning quickly so she could get a grip on her flushed state, she began to stride along the path, blood pumping. It wouldn’t do to get all carried away with intrusive thoughts. His mouth had always been distracting, and she had enough to figure out without adding ideas of what that mouth could do.

“I should hope so,” he cracked, following her, his boots thudding against the dirt. “It takes a lot of care and attention to look this good, darling. I wouldn’t like to disappoint.”

She huffed a laugh, throwing her eyes up towards the gently swaying branches above their heads, golden leaves fluttering down to carpet the forest floor in a blanket of fiery colours. “Always so bloody sure of himself,” she muttered.

Hands gripped her waist and she jumped with a sharp intake of breath, her feet stilling as he bent close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “I heard that,” he murmured, his fingers flexing in a tempting grip. “If you don’t believe me, you are most welcome to conduct a more thorough investigation. You would find me a very willing participant.”

Gulping in an attempt to steady her breathing, MC desperately tried to get a grip on the roaring of her pulse, every nerve ending seeming to bend and scrape to his will. “Oh, I have no doubt about your willingness,” she quipped, aiming for bored and unimpressed, but sounding dangerously close to breathy and needy. “It likely equals your level of audacity and randiness. Quite the scoundrel, in fact.”

His nose brushed up the column of her neck, his throaty chuckle sending shivers down her spine as her head tipped foolishly back a touch. All this wonderful fresh air, and yet she couldn’t breathe sufficiently. “I would wager that you secretly enjoy the scoundrel in me,” he teased, soft lips grazing against her skin, the scratch of stubble added just enough roughness to make her sigh. “You are quite the vixen yourself, MC. Do you even know what you do to a man when you look at him with that dark fire in your eyes? When you sway these delectable hips…”

His hands slid down to cup her hips, drawing her back against him so that her back was flush against that solid strength she had been appraising. No, she absolutely wasn’t leaning into him, her eyes closing as his hot mouth claimed a taste of her neck, over and over again, until she felt the tantalising tug of his teeth on her earlobe.

“Seb…” It was the ghost of a whisper through her lips, her back arching as the flat of his palm slid down to the top of her thigh.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he breathed into her hair, his fingers digging deliciously into the flesh of her thigh before he dragged them slowly upwards.

A soft sound left her throat as her knees trembled. Scoundrel, indeed. He knew what he was doing, and she let him, her skin inflamed with every heated touch of that wicked mouth. With one hand splayed at her midriff, and the other seeking out the curve of her hip and backside, her body was melting into his touch. How easy would it be to give in and let him have her? Like falling back into a feather pillow, surrounded by his scent, his arms, his kisses driving the wildfire in her blood to dizzying heights. So effortless.

“Seb,” she said again, firmer this time, her brows drawing together. 

He spun her round to face him, his hand claiming her jaw as he pressed his hot mouth to hers in a dominant kiss. While her fingers clutched at his jacket, and her mouth opened to welcome the slide of his tongue, she felt the first flutters of insecurity and panic begin to dance in her chest. 

This isn’t love, it’s obsession. She will destroy you. 

Her hands were in his unruly mop of hair, his low groan into her mouth making her thighs clench as his hands moulded her curves. Their kisses had become desperate, ravenous, their hot gasps for breath loud in the surrounding quietness. But, the doubts filtered through the haze.

If you were to allow it, I would love you until the very end of existence. 

Breaking the kiss with a whimper, MC squeezed her eyes closed against the voices in her head. Anne and her bitterness, Leander and his soft brown eyes full of love she could never accept, Luella Rookwood’s possessive hand on Sebastian’s arm. Her chest tightened but she couldn’t seem to let go of Sebastian, her hands curled into his black jacket as though her life depended on it. His eyes were aflame with hunger, dark and wild, his freckled cheeks flushed with passion when she dared to look at him. They shouldn’t be doing this. Every cell in her body was screaming for him, but that little cold slice of her that held all her fear and doubt began to cut through the fire in her blood. It had not been that long since they had held others in their arms, and tasted kisses from another’s lips. 

He shook his head, his eyes turning pained. “No, don’t do that,” he begged, holding her tighter against him. “Don’t you dare start shutting down on me, not now. Please. Don’t push me away, MC.”

“It’s too soon,” she rasped, shaking her head. She stepped back, her arms straightening where she still clutched his jacket, holding him at bay. “I can’t.”

“Surely, you must feel this…this connection between us,” he said, grasping her arms in a tight grip. The desperation on his face, that flicker of fear in his gaze, it made her heart twist painfully. “Please, MC. I love you so much. You drive me crazy being this close, but so out of reach. What do you want me to do? I can’t stop how I feel about you, not ever.”

“You said you could wait,” she winced, his declaration joining Leander’s in the jumbled mess of emotions bubbling inside of her. 

A pained look crossed his face and he let her arms go, his hands dropping to his sides and he looked away through the trees. “What am I waiting for, MC? Tell me that. Am I waiting for you? Or, are you going to tell me that you love him more, and then go off to live your life without me? Is that how you will break me, MC? Are you planning to leave in the end?” 

A tear slid from her eye and she flinched, blinking rapidly against the swell and burn of more filling her eyes. Her lips parted but no words came. Would she leave him? Slowly letting go of his jacket, she turned her left palm up to look at the red scar there. She was bound to him until death, and therefore, he would always be a part of her. She could never fully turn her back on him, and neither could he do the same to her. But, was it enough?

Sebastian wrapped a hand around hers, squeezing it gently. “Don’t look at that, look at me,” he said softly. “When you look at me, I feel like you see me for who I truly am. You have seen the worst of me, and yet you stuck around. You are more than just a scar on my palm. You’re everything.” 

“I…I’m scared,” she admitted, withdrawing away from him, her arms curling around herself as she stepped back. So long in the dark, alone and afraid. Now, she was surrounded by what she had craved for years, but she was too scared to reach out and take it. “What if it’s not real? What if it’s just the foolish, teenage dream you’re in love with rather than me? I’m not that girl any more. Azkaban changed me. I’m harder, colder, the darkness is always there waiting for me. What if I destroy you? What if I can’t give you what you want?”

He looked crestfallen. Those big, brown eyes of his made her think of an abandoned puppy, lost and in need of reassurance. “What are you saying?”

The truth had spilled from her lips and she cringed from it, slapping her hand to her mouth and turning from him. “I can’t…I can’t do this right now.”

He called out to her, but her feet kept moving, one in front of the other until she was running. Speaking the darkest, painful truth had split the fear into shards and now they were digging their jagged edges into her chest. It left a raw feeling there, replacing the heated desire that had bloomed so ferociously before. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, she ran. The path winding through the trees splitting off into tangents that she paid no heed to as her feet hit the dirt. Running from herself, running from the dark, and behind her, the inevitable steady beat of footsteps running after her. 

Sebastian

When MC had run from him on the peaks above Hogwarts Valley, he had let her go. Her magic had blasted from the depths of the forest in her rage and pain, but he had not gone after her. This time, he gave chase. Instead of Apparating, she had run, and it would be no great effort to catch up to her. He had wanted her to open up to him so desperately, but when that thick shield she clung to had cracked, the vulnerability that had haunted her eyes had staggered him. She had said the darkness lingered there waiting for her, and that was something he knew all about. 

The weak sunlight dappled through the forest canopy, flickering in shades and glimmers on her black hair, strands of it slipping loose from the braid that hung down her back. She was nimble on her feet like a sprite, but she was tiring quickly, her strides lagging as she ran aimlessly through the trees. He could hear her laboured breaths, his mind racing with all that had transpired between them in the last few days. 

Anne had rattled her with poisonous words, planting seeds of doubt in a mind already guarded against him. He loved his twin, but damn, he could throttle her sometimes. Whatever had gone down between MC and Leander haunted her thoughts, her gaze faraway and distracted, her quietness laying thick and heavy ever since she had returned from that meeting. That scared him more than anything Anne could say. Anne he could deal with. MC’s feelings for Prewett were a whole other matter entirely. 

Despite the nagging fear that MC was in love with another man, he could not get that kiss out of his mind. He couldn’t be mistaken. The fire in her gaze, the way she had responded to his touch, it was tangible and explosive. He couldn’t be the only one who felt it, she had to feel that burn between them as he did. Certain that she did, the fear she had admitted to just now had her in a vice grip, and she was holding back from him. There was still hope. There had to be.

The path appeared to be widening out, a strange sound drifting through the trees, like sticks clacking together. MC slowed, her step faltering as a clearing opened up before them. The sound of a babbling spring joined the clacking sticks, MC coming to a standstill before a huge hawthorn tree decorated with ribbons and strips of cloth. Coming to a stop beside her, both of them catching their breaths, Sebastian felt his skin prickle with the sensation that came from being in a sacred place. He recognised the significance of the clearing immediately, his eyes taking in the offerings tied to the tree.

The clacking sticks were makeshift wind charms strung up on nearby ash trees, the breeze catching them and making them sound their strange music as the scraps of fabric fluttered and danced along with them. MC took a step back, her gaze full of curious wonder as she looked around the clearing, seemingly forgetting why she had run from him.

“What is this place?” She shivered, rubbing her arms, a look of intense concentration darkening her face.

“It’s a Clootie tree,” he said, his voice hushed.

“A what?” She turned to look at him, her brow creased.

“A Clootie tree,” he repeated, pointing up to the branches of the hawthorn. “Clootie means cloth. You find them near sacred wells or springs. People come to make an offering, dipping their Clootie into the water and tying it to the tree in the hopes of curing their loved one from some ailment. It’s sometimes done as a gift to the goddess, or spirit, that guards the sacred well, but mostly it is a prayer for good health.” 

MC took a tentative step towards the tree, studying the offerings. Some of them were very faded, the fabric threadbare from age, others looked more recent, one a particularly lovely silk ribbon tied in a bow. “So, these are all likely to represent someone who is hurt, or sick?” 

Sebastian nodded, solemnly. She turned to look at him again, a shadow of sadness in her eyes. “Does it work?” 

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged, looking at a rather faded scrap of tartan. “It’s said that as the fabric wears thin, the ailment fades with it. It could just be a comfort, but as you and I both know, magic is capable of wonderful things. It may surprise you to hear that most of these were likely placed here by Muggles, though. It’s a Celtic tradition going back centuries. You will find these all over Scotland and Ireland, no doubt in Northern Europe, too.” 

The soft look she gave him stirred at the hope he clung to. “Do you know them from personal experience, or through your reading?”

“Both,” he said, his smile sad. “I’ve read about them, of course, but when I was a small child, I remember visiting one with Anne and my mother. We gave an offering to the tree for my grandmother.”

“What happened?”

Sebastian looked at the offerings and swallowed thickly. It had been the first loss he’d experienced in his young life, but definitely not the last. “She died,” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” MC said, moving a little closer towards him.

“I remember standing there watching my mother tie the piece of cloth to the tree, and I didn’t believe it would make a difference. I think I even complained about how cold it was that day, the whole idea seeming silly and annoying when I had a new toy train to play with at home.” He bowed his head, worrying at his lower lip as old grief rose up to mingle with new. Always, those he loved had to leave. “Then when grandma died, I lay awake worrying that it was because I didn’t believe in the Clootie tree. It was my fault that the wish didn’t work, and if mother ever found out, she would blame me, too.”

He felt her hand on his forearm, gentle, reassuring. “It’s not your fault, Seb. People die, it’s the way of life. One young boy cannot hold back what nature intends. I doubt your mother would have blamed you, either. Terrible things happen to good people, and we must find a way to carry that loss. There is nothing you could have done.”

“But, what if there was?” He said, his voice hoarse with the emotion bubbling up his throat. “Everyone I love leaves in some form or another. It must all come back to me somehow, and no matter how many books I read, or how many shadows I battle, people still end up leaving. I have to find a way to fix whatever dark curse hangs over me, this rotten luck that steals all that is good and leaves me with nothing.”

She stared at him, wide eyed, lips parted, as he ranted. It seemed she was not the only one cracking open and spilling dark truths. Feeling ashamed of his failures, he put a hand to his face, his eyes squeezing tightly closed as the well of darkness inside of him threatened to spill over. His stomach churned. Shame and guilt, fear and self-loathing, all twisting together to form a lead ball that lay heavy within.

“Perhaps you are right to be wary of me, MC,” he said, voice cracking. “It could well be that I end up destroying you rather than you destroying me. Look what has happened to you already because of me.”

“Do you think Anne has a point?” She asked quietly after a moment. That flicker of worry appeared in her eyes again. “Is this a toxic obsession? What do you see when you look at me? You said I see you despite your darkness, but what of me? I’m just as dark, and definitely more dangerous with the power that I have access to.”

Risking her running from him again, he cupped her face, making sure that he looked directly into her eyes as he spoke. “Yes, you are powerful, and I won’t deny the excitement I feel when I see you unleash it. It truly fascinates me, but that’s my thirst for wanting to know about all things magical. That’s the Ravenclaw part of me that is all my mother. But, the more time that I spent with you, the more I realised that the girl behind all of that was worth knowing, too. I felt this affinity to you, like I could have known you on another plane of existence, or something.”

“A kindred spirit,” she murmured, a slight smile curving her lips. “You said that to me once.”

His own mouth curved in remembrance, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You know me better than anyone, aside from Anne. As I said before, you have seen my darkness, and you stayed. I am not afraid of your darkness, MC. It could be a mirror of my own, and if Anne thinks we will only destroy each other, then I am still willing to risk it. All the time you are willing to hold my hand as we face whatever it is we have to face, then I’m here. If you go down, then I’m coming with you, because if there is one thing I learned while you were gone, it’s that I am fucking miserable without you beside me.”

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. “You’re a big softie underneath all that dark magic and fierce duelling, aren’t you?”

He gave her his most devilish smirk, leaning in closer towards her. “Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured, dropping her a wink.

“It’s a good thing I am a master of keeping your secrets,” she said, dipping her hand into the collar of her shirt and pulling out the silver chain that held the amulet. The blood stone glittered eerily in the dappled light of the clearing. “I swore on our blood that I would, but even without it, I would keep your secrets, Sebastian. Just as you have kept mine.”

Was it enough, though? He studied the amulet, mulling over the pact they had made. He remembered how strongly he had believed in his love for her. When she had asked if it was nothing more than a teenage dream, it had felt like a blow to his stomach. Looking at her now, her hair tumbling free from her braid, her face pink and blotchy from her tears, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else. 

“I should have married you instead of making this blood pact,” he said, taking hold of her left hand. He brushed a thumb over her ring finger. “We could have done it despite our age. We broke so many other rules, why not that one? We could have done it the old fashioned way and performed a Handfast ceremony, they are as good as law here in Scotland. You would have been mine forever.”

She gaped at him. “Marriage? Bloody hell, Sebastian! We were kids! Do you think it would have made any difference? Wouldn’t we still be standing here without a clue what we are doing?” 

“Would you have gone to Prewett’s bed if we were wed?” The question fired from his lips, bringing his fear of her feelings for the Auror into the open.

MC reeled backwards, her cheeks flushing scarlet, and her mouth forming a tight line. “I could ask the same question of you with regards to Miss Rookwood,” she snapped.

“Ask it,” he said firmly. “Ask me, and I will tell you. I would not. She means nothing to me, nothing at all. But, Prewett is a whole other kettle of grindylows, isn’t he? I didn’t move on, MC, but I think you did. You moved on, and you’re too scared to admit it.”

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, her hands darting up to fiddle with loose strands of her hair. “Admit what, exactly?”

“I know you have feelings for him,” he pressed, his chest heavy as though filled with rock. “As much as it kills me, I saw it in your eyes. You love him, and that’s why you have been so cold and distant with me. You are pushing me back, and I think it’s because of him. I’m right, aren’t I?” 

Her lips parted with a harsh sigh, a small cry of distress leaving her lips. “It’s not the same,” she said, her voice breathless and high. 

“You either love him, or you don’t, MC,” he said, shaking his head. “Am I a fool for thinking that the kiss we just shared meant something? Am I really waiting for you to break my heart?”

She put her hands to her head and paced, her chest rising and falling with tortured breaths. Each agonising second that passed without an answer seemed to make the weight on his chest grow heavier. She wasn’t denying it, his worst fears were manifesting right in front of him, and he felt sick. She was going to leave him for another. 

“You are not a fool, Sebastian,” she said, coming to a stop before him. He almost held his breath as he waited. “But, you are right, I do need to be honest with you. I’m not going to deny that I have feelings for Leander. I cannot help how I feel, and I won’t do him an injustice by pretending that he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Fucking hell,” Seb groaned, pushing his hands into his hair and looking up at the swaying branches of the trees. 

“You wanted to hear this, Sebastian, and so you can damn well listen!” She said firmly. When he glanced back at her, she had her hands on her hips, her face determined. “He loves me. I know it, and I know he would do anything for me, but I can’t…”

She winced and looked down, taking a deep breath.

“Can’t what?” 

“I can’t give him what he wants,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. She sniffed and put the back of her hand beneath her nose. “He offered me the chance to start a new life, and I turned him down. How could I accept such a thing when I cannot give him all of myself in return? I broke his heart because…because all that he wanted from me, that part of me, in here…” She patted her hand to her chest, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now as she looked at him. “I’m pretty sure that part already belongs to you.”

Her words washed over him, pulling him back from the edge, a stuttered gasp ripping from his chest. The relief that she felt that way had him staggering towards her and dropping to his knees. In that moment, there was no swagger, no smirking, just raw emotion as he buried his face into her stomach, his hands holding her as though she was made of precious glass. He felt her hand in his hair, the touch soothing, and sending shivers down his spine. 

“I haven’t given up on us, Seb,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “There is still a lot to figure out, and that might take some time, but I haven’t given up.”

Sebastian nuzzled into her warmth, breathing her in and drawing comfort from knowing that she was his, but that niggling fear still lingered. She admitted having feelings for Leander. “And, Prewett?” 

He bit his lip, expecting her to push him off, but he felt her shudder. He kept his face buried into the fabric of her clothing, afraid of what he would see on her face if he looked up. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she whispered. “He is a good person, and he deserves so much more than what I could give him. My darkness would swallow him whole. I have to let him go.”

For the first time since he had met Prewett in their first year at Hogwarts, he felt a pang of sympathy for him. There was pain and regret in MC’s voice, and while Sebastian hated the thought of them being close with each other, he could understand the pain of wanting someone and then losing them. That could have been him, he could have been the one to be let go of, and perhaps he still could. 

“I will do whatever it takes, MC,” he vowed. “You know I am yours.” 

Her hand swept through his hair, her fingers caressing the back of his neck as he remained there on his knees, holding her. The crude wind chimes clacked together in the trees above, the babbling spring gushed as it had done for centuries, and Sebastian allowed himself a moment of peace beneath the Clootie offerings. This time, he was going to believe in the sentiment that good things could happen. 

“I don’t wish to break up the moment, but there is something you should know,” MC said quietly. Sebastian tensed, waiting. “I know you can’t see it, but there is ancient magic here. It’s glimmering around the trunk of the tree, little wisps of it trailing up and around the branches. The offerings are all touched by the magic, too. It’s actually rather beautiful.” 

Sebastian lifted his head to look up at the tree, but of course, he could not see what she could. He could feel the power of the space, ancient and steeped with years of human emotion. People came here because they were sad, hurting, desperate. They came to make their offering to save their loved ones. That kind of emotional magic was bound to leave a mark. 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, getting to his feet. A strange tingling sensation swept through him as the realisation dawned, and he grabbed MC by the hand. “We have been looking at the deposits all wrong. We are assuming that ancient magic would reside in ancient places, but what if that’s not the true source. It’s old, of course, but age shouldn’t dictate where it would gather.” 

“What are you thinking, Seb?” She asked, her grip tightening on his hand as he gazed up at the tree. 

“These offerings,” he said, gesturing up towards them as he looked at her. “They are emotional. What if that is what draws the ancient magic here? What if it's the emotion that manifests it?” 

Her gaze lifted to the tree, her mouth parting as he saw the way her thoughts must be racing. A quiver of excitement trembled through him, as it always did when he stumbled across a brilliant idea. 

“That would make sense,” she nodded, her gaze dipping shyly before she spoke again. “There have been instances where ancient magic has burst out of me without the use of a wand, and those moments have always been highly emotionally charged. I…I saved Leander from Dementors inside Azkaban without a wand. It just happened. So, the idea of ancient magic being attached to emotions is actually a good one. Let’s not forget that Isadora created the repository using painful human emotions, too.” 

“I should have seen it sooner,” he said, his jaw clenching at how obvious it seemed now. “We could have been spending our time seeking out locations where emotional magic has been cast. Perhaps we would have been more successful.” 

“Well, we know now, at least we think we do,” she said, her eyes brightening. “We need to test this theory. We need a location where something emotional would have happened. How are we going to find places like that?” 

A thought began to turn in his mind, and he was reluctant to suggest it, but it would make perfect sense. The issue was whether he would be able to handle it. Looking at MC, their hands clasped, and the knowledge that she hadn’t given up on him seemed to lend him added strength. “Emotionally charged magic like the murder of a relative in extreme circumstances? How about that for a location to test the theory?” 

Her blue eyes stared at him, and he could see the echo of his own shadows flickering there. They would never forget that day down in those catacombs, it would live inside them for the rest of their lives. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, her worry creasing her brow. 

No, he wasn’t sure, his guilt and fear seemed to stretch and crawl under his flesh. “I guess there is only one way to find out, sweetheart,” he said, and held her closer as he let the image of the Feldcroft catacomb entrance fill his mind. 

MC

The fresh, briney scent of the ocean greeted them as they landed on the cliff top near Feldcroft, the stiff breeze tugging at their hair and cloaks as they gathered their bearings. Tall pines creaked and swayed in the wind, the happy chatter of songbirds a peculiar juxtaposition to the ominous looking entrance of the catacombs. Carved ancient stones leaned amongst the twisted, gnarled tree roots that reached like claws towards the dirt beaten path. A tomb of the dead, ancient and long forgotten, clinging to magic crafted centuries before. The atmosphere spoke of age and dust, but she knew what lingered down there in the dark. 

MC shivered and looked to Sebastian, taking in the paleness beneath his freckles, his eyes fixed on the darkened entrance with a hesitant look. 

“We don’t have to do this,” she said quietly.

His hand massaged anxiously at her waist as he gave a jerky nod. “I’ll be alright. We need to see if we’re right about this.” 

Taking his hand in hers, they walked into the entrance, leaving behind the soft autumn skies for the damp chill of stone and sand. Descending down the cracked stone steps, aged candles flickered into life casting an eerie pale glow to light their way. 

“Do you think anyone has been down here since that day?” Sebastian asked, his voice low and tight. 

MC scanned the path ahead, water dripping down the walls and the patter of a startled rat echoing down the tunnel carved into the rock. “It’s hard to say,” she said. “I’m sure anything worth any value was looted long ago. What would bring anyone here?” 

“I don’t know, explorers, history lovers, desperate boys with grand plans of saving the world.” 

MC paused to look at Sebastian, the brittle sadness behind his words making her question the wiseness of taking him down into these catacombs. She squeezed his hand, her own apprehension twisting in her chest, but she tried to suppress it. “I can go on alone, you know. I’m not afraid,” she suggested. “You can wait for me outside if this is going to be too much.”

His jaw tightened and he took a breath. “Come on,” he said, tugging her forward. “You are not going down here alone.” 

It could almost make her smile how he still insisted on being her protector, despite the ancient power that lived in her veins. There was nothing in these tunnels that she couldn’t fight off, she was more than capable, but he still had the need to be her saviour. 

They walked on, taking the twists and turns with their wands in hand, their other hands still tightly clasped. The candles lit up as they went, casting eerie shadows on stone walls and reflecting off the huge puddles that flooded the chambers. Their boots echoed off the stone flooring sections, the rest of the tombs appearing empty and quiet aside from the odd scampering rat. 

“I had forgotten how much of a warren this place was,” MC murmured as they came out on a large curved balcony, the huge circular chamber supported by solid stone columns. Candles illuminated the space, revealing the shattered coffins and dusty urns on their shelves. Down in the centre of the chamber was a stone altar, abandoned, but left as it was last used. As they wandered down the slope, trying to remember which archway to take next, countless old skulls stared back at them with dark, empty eye sockets. “Can you remember which way to go?” 

Sebastian paused near the altar, frowning slightly as he eyed the options. “There were so many ancient puzzles to solve to get through here, but it seems the doorways are all still open.” 

MC stared at one archway in particular, goosebumps erupting along her arms as she felt a familiar hum beneath her feet. Her heart picked up the pace and she aimed her wand towards the entrance, a stale stench wafting from the dark maw. She could feel it. There was magic here. “This way,” she said. 

They continued on, their hands still tightly wrapped around each other despite the sticky sheen of sweat that had gathered on their palms. Sebastian was quiet, his face drawn and eyes dark. MC could feel the tension on the back of her neck as memories of that awful day returned and replayed in her head, these walls echoing with the shouts, flickering with the spells of their fight with his uncle. 

It was hard not to wonder what Solomon’s motives were, a question that had plagued her during long hours in the dark serving time for his murder. It was all together more strange and frustrating now that she had discovered he had known her as a very small child. It made her feel cold, numb, a sense of dread that this had all been a cruel trick of fate for them all. 

All the while, she felt the pulse of magic begin to strengthen beneath her feet, the static in the air prickled on her skin, and she tried to remain calm. Sebastian couldn’t feel any of those things, but he could probably sense her tension as they entered a chamber with a staircase conjured from ancient bones. They both stood before it, a sense of dread looming over them, the entrance above the staircase flickering with a familiar blue and white light. The power throbbed and pulsed with renewed strength, and she felt the answering call in her blood.

“You were right,” she said softly, turning to look at Sebastian. “There is ancient magic here.” 

A muscle ticked in his jaw as his gaze remained locked on the doorway, a sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and he was breathing faster. He shook his head, pulling her back a step. “I can’t…” 

She grabbed his arm, steadying him as he trembled, his eyes still fixed on the doorway with a wide, haunted stare. “You’re alright,” she soothed. “You don’t have to go in there.” 

Tearing from her grip with a tortured groan, he clamped both his hands to his own head, deathly pale as he sucked in panicked breaths. The ghosts of the past were lurking in his eyes, remembering the darkness that had made him flee these tunnels years ago in grief and despair. Their lives had changed down here, his more than hers, at least for a time. 

“I know this is tough,” she said carefully, holding her hand towards him. “But, I’m right here with you, okay? I can run in, absorb the deposit, and then we can get out of this place. We have what we came for, proof of your theory.”  

He looked at her, his eyes dark and glazed with tears. “That magic can’t be good, MC. How can it be? I killed my own flesh and blood. So much hate…” 

His voice trailed off, his eyes drawn back to the catacomb beyond. 

“The hate is gone now, Sebastian,” she said, stepping towards him. Carefully, she placed a hand to his cheek, soothing him with soft touches. “The hate died with him. He’s gone. All that is left are memories, and a spark of magic that I can put to good use.” 

“He’s still in here, though,” he said through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger against his head. “Even in my dreams I hear him. There is no end to it, but I know that it is all my fault. It is the burden I must carry from the choice that I made.” 

Her heart squeezed and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He was stiff and trembling, but returned the embrace. Her earlier observations about him no longer being a boy seemed to melt away as she stroked his back. Deep down, his inner child was still broken, hiding from the pain and guilt of his actions, drowning under the weight of his uncle’s cold cruelty. In these damp and creepy catacombs, he was still the boy slumped against the wall, watching what was left of his family vanish in the wake of his fury. 

“We will be in, and out,” she promised, her hand soothing the back of his neck. “I only need a minute or two at the most to absorb the deposit, and then we can Apparate away from this place. We will never need to return here again, we can leave it in the past where it belongs.” 

He buried his face into her hair and squeezed her to him. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice muffled. 

She kissed his head, her own demons stalking through the dark of her mind, but she remained steady on her feet. Determination steeled her spine. “And I love you,” she declared. 

Leander 

Today’s briefing had an air of expectancy as Harrington shared information to those Auror’s gathered in preparation for tonight’s raid. Leander sat tense and alert, his fingers twisting around the smooth wood of his wand as he looked at the blackboard behind Harrington. A map of Dover had been pinned to it, markers along the coast suggesting tunnels that had been quickly researched by the archive team this afternoon. The Auror crew that manned the docks at Dover had been informed of the state of affairs by owl, and were on alert. 

When MC’s secret message had come to him, his heart had jumped, his nerves still raw from their last meeting. If he was honest with himself, he had been running on automatic, like a steam engine powering through on sturdy rails. He was coasting, his head stuck in a loop of those moments in the kitchen with her. The scoop she had passed on to him about the Rookwood hideout in the tunnels had switched the pace, firing his head into action, and now he was firing on hot coals. Eager to get into the fray, his eyes were keenly alert as the instructions were given out. 

“We are of the understanding that this hideout is not much more than a storage facility,” Harrington said, shifting his gaze around his team gathered. “Our inside information is newly received, and therefore not completely researched. In order to discover more, we need to investigate these tunnels. There will likely be enchantments, and Ashwinder guards, too. I want you in pairs so that you can watch each other’s backs.”

Leander shifted his attention to the blonde witch seated beside him to see her fully focused, quill poised above her little notebook. Montgomery had that eager to please aura that came from the newly qualified, and he remembered his first proper field work when he joined the Auror Office, that hunger to achieve and impress. 

She felt his gaze on her and glanced his way, her eyes brightening with excitement. “I’m guessing it’s me and you, partner,” she smiled. “You’re not going to leave me behind this time, are you?”

He shook his head, smirking at her upbeat expression. “Indeed it will be you and I teaming up. Potentially, your first proper taste of facing down some Ashwinders. Are you ready for possible combat?” 

A fire blazed in the depths of her eyes. “Absolutely,” she said firmly. 

Back at his desk, Leander brushed his thumb over his Auror badge before slipping it back into his pocket, his attention drawn to the framed photographs of his family. The life of an Auror was one lived on a constant edge. Tonight’s raid was another gamble at becoming injured, or perhaps an opportunity to face Death himself. He knew the risks, as did his family. It was the chance you took when you signed up for this life. He wasn’t sure if it was something that you ever got used to, but you faced it all the same. He supposed that was where the bravery came in, and it was telling when you considered that a high percentage of the Auror Office had come from Gryffindor house. 

Adjusting his tie, and donning his Auror robe, Leander tucked his chair neatly under his desk and straightened the quill placed in its holder before walking across to Montgomery’s desk. Already in her robe, she smiled up at him. “Is it time to go?”

“If you’re ready,” he nodded. “We are to take the Floo to the docks, and make our way up the cliff side from there. The border Auror team will direct us.”

“I’ve never been to Dover,” Montgomery said, tucking her wand away. “I hear the white cliffs are rather impressive, and topped by a magnificent castle. I never really paid much attention to history, but Dover is one of those places that really stands out.”

“It’s been a strategic border defence for centuries,” he replied, standing aside to allow her to pass through the office doors first as they walked. “It’s Britain’s closest dock for Europe, and so there has always been a strong border force for trade and military purposes. I have been there a few times. It’s very busy, but well organised by both a Muggle and wizarding world presence, and has been for hundreds of years.”

She gave him a warm smile as they approached the Atrium. “It sounds like you paid attention in history class.”

He felt a blush warm his cheeks, his fingers lifting to touch at his tie. “I suppose you could say that, and I do like to read. It’s a relaxing way to wind down out of the office.” 

As they neared the rows of green flames flickering in the Floo fireplaces, they slowed their step, pausing before one of the portals. 

“I do hope MC has given you correct information,” Montgomery said thoughtfully, offering him her arm. Leander slipped a polite hand around the crook of her elbow. “You don’t think she would send us into a trap, do you?” 

Leander stared into the green flames, a tightness growing in his chest. “No, I don’t think she would do that. Her information is sound to the best of her knowledge.” 

“You place a lot of trust in her considering she is an ex-prisoner,” she said, gazing curiously at him. “A prisoner who was convicted and sent down for the murder of an Auror, no less.” 

Leander’s face hardened with determination. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Miss Montgomery. There is more to MC than what happened with that Auror, and I know that she despises Rookwood as much as we do. What she is doing for us is no easy feat. Deep in the Ashwinder camp, she risks her own life to pass on this information. I doubt she would do it needlessly, or recklessly.” 

“I hope she deserves such stout loyalty, Mr Prewett,” she said, the green glow of the flames reflected in her shrewd eyes. “We are about to enter the aforementioned Ashwinder territory on her word alone. I merely seek a little reassurance as to our chances out there.” 

“As an Auror, our chances are always hanging on the roll of the dice,” he said, but gave her arm a reassuring pat anyway. “Fear not, we are a good team, and I shall watch your back. That’s a promise. Shall we?” 

Her smile had a twinge of nervousness, but she nodded her consent to leave. Leander stepped towards the flames, his hand linked to her arm, and stated the Port of Dover as their destination. 

….*….

Echoes of the sea winds filled the dark, damp tunnel with eerie whines. They were old passageways, narrow and carved by hand through the chalk. Wands raised, and his senses on high alert, Leander stalked carefully through the dark with Montgomery. The Aurors stationed at the port had briefed them well, with some coming along to assist in the raid. He was confident that everything should fall in their favour. 

The tunnel wound upwards, the occasional vent allowing fresh air to circulate, weak beams of light offering slight relief from the claustrophobic atmosphere. They came to a fork in the path and he looked to Montgomery, using hand gestures to signal which path to take rather than speak and risk the echo of their voices giving them away. She nodded and moved to take the path, but the sound of screams and explosions began to come from the opposite tunnel. 

The fight was on. 

There was no time to think, only act. Taking off at a run, with Montgomery at his heels, they hurried towards the sound of spell casting, the flicker and flash of magic soon beginning to light up the tunnel ahead. When they came to the end of the tunnel, the space opened up into a cavern with a low ceiling, crates and sacks of goods stored against the chalk carved walls. 

Two Aurors were duelling with a group of Ashwinders, a few of them already down. Leander blocked a hex that shot past him, falling easily into fighting mode as he dived for cover behind some crates, firing a retaliation towards the rear of the cave. Using the storage as cover, he fought alongside his colleagues, ducking and maintaining a well trained combat strategy. 

A crate to his left exploded, splinters and dust flying out in all directions. He felt something catch his cheek with a sharp sting, but ignored it, rolling behind some more boxes as Montgomery hurried to join him. 

“Prewett! Are you alright?” She exclaimed, putting a hand to his shoulder to try and get a look at his face. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, immediately spotting a familiar blonde haired witch stepping out from behind crates. Her gaze fixed firmly on him with interest, her wand arm aimed and ready.

”Prewett?” She purred, a slow smirk lifting her mouth. She was prettier than her wanted poster, but there was no mistaking who she was. Luella Rookwood. “I do believe I have heard of you.” 

A spell burst from the end of her wand, and Leander didn’t even think twice before he grabbed Montgomery and pulled her to the ground beside him as spells flew over their heads from all directions. If he hadn’t, the cast would have hit her right in the back, and his new partner was not going to get hurt on his watch. Montgomery grunted as she landed face first into the dusty floor, the brightness of the spell almost blinding him before he felt it slam into his chest. 

He could hear a muffled scream, but his chest was on fire with a searing pain, his eyes seeing white spots from the lingering glare of the spell. He was thrown back against the crates, the back of his head making contact with a sickening crack that made the world seem to spin before it went out of focus. 

It was pain, colours fading into darkness, an unbearable weight on his chest, and a female voice screaming his name. Then all was black. 

Sebastian

The book lay atop his bed bunk. There was not a speck of dust on it, the cover exactly as it had been when he had first laid eyes upon it. As much as it was hard to comprehend how it could possibly be sitting there now right in front of him, a thrill of excitement at the sheer brilliance of it was enough to accept it. 

“What should we do with it?” MC asked. She stood beside him, her eyes also fixed on the ancient tome. 

“Hide it,” he replied immediately, picking up the satisfying weight and resisting the urge to hold it against his chest as though to protect it. “Under no circumstances can Rookwood get his hands on this.” 

MC eyed the book and shivered, folding her arms tightly in front of her chest. She hadn’t touched it, but her eyes had been curious once the initial shock of its discovery had faded. 

Upon entering the catacomb where the deposit had been found, she had moved towards the centre of the room, her gaze fixed upon something that he couldn’t see. His stomach had churned standing in the doorway, dark memories threatening to swallow him whole as he stared at the ground where Solomon’s body had fallen. Seeing his uncle dead on the ground had been jarring, of course, but the pain of loss had been greater when Anne had turned her cold eyes on him and then disappeared. 

There could be no words capable of describing that sense of abandonment and loneliness. 

As MC had paced slowly in a circle, her wand aimed at nothing, Sebastian’s gaze had been drawn towards the stone altar to the left of the room. Every candle and torch had been illuminated upon their entry, lighting up the space to reveal the scattered bones and debris, glinting off the macabre baubles of spider silk wrapped prey above their heads. To add to the visibility, a shaft of sunlight came from a hole in the ceiling, the beams highlighted by the dust motes they had disturbed, lending the chamber an ethereal look. 

A sense of the impossible had washed over him, and he paused for a moment, seriously considering the idea that he had perhaps entered a dream. He’d blinked a few times, taking an uncertain step forward, his boot crunching on an old bone fragment underfoot. There, on the altar, had stood a book. It was propped up and open as though the reader would be back in just a moment, the pages bright from the nearby candle. Forgetting that MC was preparing to absorb the deposit behind him, he had approached the altar and a strangled sound of disbelief had escaped his throat. 

Slytherin’s grimoire stood as solid and legible as the day it was made, right there on the altar, which couldn’t be possible. Anne had blasted the tome to pieces in her rage that day, destroying the chance of Sebastian ever experimenting with the aged magic again. At least, that is what they had believed. Until now.

Of course, he had brought it with them, unable to leave such a precious artefact of significance there in those wasted caverns. MC had been wary of it, and still was, her apprehension compounded by her recent discovery of her Slytherin bloodline. The look she gave him now back in the tent, a glint of suspicion there with her wariness, made him bring the book closer to his chest after all. 

“The last time you used that book, terrible things happened,” she said carefully. “Perhaps you ought to hide it somewhere far out of reach lest you be tempted to use it again. I can’t believe it reincarnated itself. How does that even happen?” 

“You sound like Ominis,” he moaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to begin mastering the dark arts. It’s merely educational. Isn’t it just brilliant, though? Slytherin truly was a master of magic. Of course he would enchant his books against destruction. It’s genius!” 

MC sighed and shook her head. “I feel like I should enchant you against destruction,” she muttered, removing her cloak and dropping it onto the bed. 

His smirk at her words faded as he watched her open her bag and take out a hair brush, loosening her braid so that she could smooth out her hair. She was making herself comfortable in his space, and that was a promising sign. Perhaps she would stay in here with him rather than return to her own tent within the camp. He certainly had no objections to that. 

“How do you feel after absorbing the deposit?” He asked, admiring the way her hair shone like silk in the glow of the lamp. 

Her hands stilled and she bit her lip, her eyes sheepish as they swung towards him. “I have a confession to make,” she said, twisting the brush in her hands. “I didn’t actually absorb the magic deposit.” 

His eyes widened. “Why in Merlin’s name not? Was that not the plan?” 

Her mouth tightened. “It’s Rookwood’s plan. I found that once I was there, I didn’t want to take that magic into myself. Like you said, it couldn’t be filled with much good considering the circumstances of how it came to be. Much like Isadora’s huge repository under Hogwarts, it seemed to seethe with darkness. I don’t want that inside of me, Seb, even more so when it was so personally connected to us both. I figured we have enough darkness between the two of us already.”

“So, it’s still down there?” He frowned at the thought. What if another like MC came along and discovered it? 

“Not exactly,” she said, dropping the hair brush onto the bed. “I moved it.” 

He watched as she slipped a shiny phial from her pocket and held it up. “It’s in here,” she said, giving it a wiggle. “This is a flask made of goblin silver. It was a gift from Professor Fig. It belonged to his wife. Through my conversations with Lodgok, I learned a great deal about how ancient magic and goblin silver can work together. So, rather than absorb the magic into myself, I will store it inside this until I have decided what to do with it. Of course, much like Slytherin’s book, nobody else can know about this.” 

“You have my word,” he said, stepping closer to admire the silver flask. 

“I mean it,” she said, her face firm. “This is strictly between us. I don’t even want the Ministry to know about this. Our little secret.” 

He met her gaze, his fingertips reaching to touch against the silver chain at her neck. It felt like bonds were strengthening between them, she was gradually becoming closer, and it warmed him. “Our little secret,” he whispered. “I cannot help but wonder, though, sweetheart. Why not just absorb it into yourself? Surely that would be much safer than risking this flask falling into the wrong hands.” 

“Even if someone did get their hands on this, they wouldn’t know what was inside unless they were a vessel of ancient magic,” she said, smoothing her thumb over the pretty silver. “I’m the only one who can see it, so to anyone else, it’s just a lovely trinket. As for not absorbing it myself, I’m not sure I want it, Sebastian. It’s already such a burden to carry, and it is becoming all that anyone sees when they look at me. The girl with all the power. Do I really need any more of it?”

Her eyes were dark and fathomless, pools you could get lost in. They truly were a pair of lost souls in the dark, but she was beginning to trust him again. He stroked back her hair, his fingers sliding through the silky softness. As he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she closed her eyes. “That's not all I see,” he murmured. “We will keep the magic safe until all this is over. After that, we will have the rest of our lives to figure out the rest.” 

As she was about to lean into him, a commotion sounded from outside the tent, raised voices and the thudding of feet. They exchanged a quick glance of curiosity before he swiftly conjured the book into a hidden pocket. MC did the same with her goblin flask and they withdrew their wands. 

“Is the camp under attack?” She asked as they hurried for the exit. 

“It could well be,” he replied, adrenaline already beginning to spike as he paused to lift the door flap. He gave her a look. “If it’s Aurors, then let’s hope this doesn’t blow your cover. That article in the Daily Prophet about you was rather damning.” 

“They wouldn’t risk it,” she said, shaking her head. “The only one in contact with me is Leander, and he wouldn’t do anything like this without telling me first.” 

Sebastian arched one eyebrow. “Such faith you have in him,” he muttered sourly. 

“Let’s just see what’s going on out there, shall we?” She snipped, jabbing her wand towards the entrance. 

The sun was descending behind the peaks of the mountains as they emerged from the tent. A few Ashwinders were gathered at the campfire, heads bent in discussion. The rest of the camp appeared quiet, no sign of the camp leader, and Sebastian turned his attention towards Rookwood’s tent. The lamps outside were lit, and Ashwinders were entering. He whistled to catch the attention of the nearby camp members. “What’s happening?” 

The taller of the two turned, his gaze lingering on MC. “A raid down at Dover, apparently. Lulu turned up all battle worn, spitting fury. She’s in with the boss man as we speak,” he said, aiming his thumb towards Rookwood’s tent. 

“Dover?” Sebastian frowned. “What kind of raid?” 

“They found the tunnel stores. Whole place was crawling with the bastards. The fight was bad, think we lost a few,” he grunted. Then his eyes gleamed as a wicked grin curved his mouth. “Got ourselves a couple of captives, though. Should make for a bit of sport.” 

MC visibly stiffened beside him, and Sebastian felt a chilling realisation trickle down his spine. Keeping his gaze on the Ashwinder, he nodded. “Sounds like there are stories to be shared,” he said smoothly. “I will check in with Rookwood in a moment.” 

The Ashwinder merely shrugged and turned back to his companion. Before another word could be uttered, he clamped his hand around MC’s wrist and Apparated them both a short distance away into the trees. As they landed onto a thick carpet of leaves, she gasped, stumbling slightly. 

“I wish you would bloody warn me before you do that,” she snapped, brushing the loose curtain of hair back from her face. 

He didn’t want to believe that this warmth she had been showing him was an act of trickery, but the nagging suspicion clung like ice claws to the back of his neck, the dark shadows of his insecurities crowded his head and obliterated all else. The shadows were lengthening, dusk already claiming the darkness under the trees as though in sympathy with him. He watched her carefully, his body tense. 

“Tell me it wasn’t you,” he asked slowly. 

She frowned. “What do you mean?” 

He huffed and began to pace, pushing his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure how you would do it, though, that’s the problem. I mean, you have been with me the whole time.” He turned his gaze back onto her. “It’s just funny how we have a little conversation about the tunnels down at Dover, and now the place is crawling with Aurors. Is it a coincidence, MC? Or was that your word they acted on?” 

She went very still, her face closing off into that cold way she had when she felt threatened. “Even if it was by my word, aren’t we on the same side here? You make it sound like the raid was a personal attack on you.” 

“I don’t care about the damned raid,” he said, stepping towards her. “I’m more interested in the idea of you using me to gain information on the sly. How would you even get that message to Prewett so fast? You have no owl to hand, and you haven’t left my side. Is he nearby? Is he following us?” 

“It sounds like you don’t trust me, Sebastian,” she said, her jaw tightening. 

“I want to,” he said, his voice pained. Those cold fingers of fear tickled at his neck. “If you want information, you only have to ask. I am on your side. If you were going to pass anything on to the Aurors, why can’t you tell me?” 

Her eyes dipped away, her head bowing slightly, and that curdling jealousy twisted thickly in his gut. “It’s because it's him, isn’t it? Whatever secret thing you have going on with Prewett, you don’t want me involved.” 

“You already know I am his informant, Sebastian,” she sighed. “Why is it such a surprise that I would tell him things? We all want the same outcome here. Isn’t that the priority?” 

He began to pace again, thinking fast. Pushing back the encroaching darkness that waited in the wings of his head, he tried to focus on the raid, and the implications of it. Above all else, their self preservation came first. If the Aurors were tortured, or worse, cast upon with Imperio, then their cover would be blown.

“Do you think Prewett would have gone to the tunnels?” He huffed a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Wait, of course he would go. He can’t help himself.” 

“Wait, what are you suggesting?” Her face paled and she turned her gaze back towards the glow of the camp fires through the trees. She shook her head, fear in her eyes. “No, no…” 

“I hate to say it, but I doubt Prewett is one of the captives,” he said begrudgingly. If there was one thing he could credit to the man, it was his ability to hold his own in a duel. He would never tell the proud Gryffindor, but he had been one his toughest opponents growing up. All the more reason to bait him all the time. “Whoever it is, they are a risk to you, and what we are doing here.”

“Where would they take captives? That holding tent where Rookwood had that lad beaten?” 

Sebastian sighed and nodded. “Most likely.” 

He blinked, and she was gone, the crack of her Disapparating a sharp echo under the trees. He stared at the spot where she had been standing mere seconds ago, his gut twisting sharply. “Fuck,” he swore, gritting his teeth. 

MC

Her pulse seemed to throb in her ears as panic restricted her throat, but she kept her steps calm and deliberate as she stalked down the side of the tent where she had witnessed the punishment of that Ashwinder lad. Peering around the corner, she saw two guards at the entrance, and assessed her options. She merely wanted to look. She just wanted to know if it really was Leander inside the tent. If so, her actions had put him there. 

Thinking of the violence with which the Executioner had treated one of their own in punishment, it made her shudder to imagine what they would do to two Aurors. Even if it turned out not to be Leander, could she allow such a thing to take place? In order to maintain her cover, she might have to, and she didn’t think she would be able to stomach it. 

Perhaps walking boldly up to the guards and asking for admittance would be enough. She was very powerful after all, Rookwood’s little pet. Or perhaps a swift Petrificus Totalus would be in order. Either way, she had to know who was in the tent. 

As she was about to step out, a hand clamped over her mouth and she was yanked backwards. Her muffled squeal was silenced as Sebastian fixed his pointed glare up close to her face, his brows drawn down in temper. 

“What do you think you are doing?” He hissed. “Are you trying to get us in the shit, or what?” 

She struggled against his grip, but he held her firm. She glared at him, hoping her eyes would singe his stupid face. Just when she thought things between them could reach an even keel, he had managed to piss her off yet again, throwing around his over protective jealousy. In her efforts to wriggle free, his hand slipped a little and she managed to open her mouth enough to give him a sharp nip with her teeth. 

“Ah, you little bitch,” he hissed, shaking his hand. “You bit me!” 

“You want to treat me like an animal, then expect to get bitten when you corner me,” she said, her words a harsh whisper. “Don’t grab me like that again!” 

“If you go in there and do anything to help those captives, the game is up, MC,” he insisted, taking hold of her shoulders, his face firm. 

He was right, but she kept her head up, determination making her rigid under his hands. “I’m not stupid, Sebastian. I know there are risks, but…” She wavered, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. “I need to know if he is in there. I can’t just stand by and do nothing and let them hurt him.” 

Sebastian dipped his head, frustration coming from him in waves. “Fine,” he hissed, and began to drag her away towards the rear of the tent. “Then we check it out first, but out of sight. This way.” 

He dragged her around to the rear of the tent and dropped to the ground, loosening a tent peg just enough to pull the fabric up. He nodded to the flattened grass before him. “I’ll hold it up, you get down and have a peek.” 

She dropped to her knees and pressed her cheek to the cool grass, a faint glow from a torch appearing under the flap of fabric. She squinted against the light after the dimness outside, her eyes adjusting. Her gaze swept the tent, and then she tensed when she spotted the two figures sitting on the dirt flooring, tied back to back against a post with rope. One of them was a petite, blonde girl, no more than twenty, her head hanging low against her chest. The other was a very familiar, tall red head, covered in blood, his body limp and apparently unconscious. Tears burned her eyes as she pushed herself upright, a hollow opening up in her chest. 

“It’s him,” she said, the words not much more than a whimper. “Gods, it’s him.” 

She met Sebastian’s eyes, not even bothering to swipe away the tear that rolled down her cheek. The hardness she saw in Sebastian’s eyes filled her with a sense of foreboding, but then he sighed, his shoulders dropping. A look of determination came into his gaze, a spark of hope flaring in her chest. 

“Alright,” he said, spinning his wand artfully in his fingers. He met her gaze. “I guess this is where I prove that I will do literally anything for you, MC. We need a plan.” 

To be continued...

Ivy Montgomery is an OC belonging to @eternalremorse and used with her kind permission.

Taglist: @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @evaslytherpuff @sevprince-91 @loving-him-was-red13 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[evaslytherpuff]

He could definitely use his wand for…other reasons. Hehe.🤭🥰

"Use Crucio, it'll last longer"

A little one-shot of Erebus being annoyed at Hogsmeade

!18+ USE OF THE CRUCIATUS CURSE!

Erebus patiently waited outside of the Hog's Head Inn while his father was inside handling "business." He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed heavily, he didn't even want to be here, he would rather be anywhere else right now. His father insisted, more like demanded, stating that he needs his "bodyguard" to escort him to his meeting tonight. It just meant that there was a possibility that he would end up in a brawl with someone if things went awry.

Erebus couldn't stand crowds and Hogsmeade was usually always busy, even late at night. Whenever he was out in public everyone would just gawk at him due to the long scar down his left eye. It didn't help that the injury caused his eye to resemble a snakes which made him feel like a hideous freak. Busy shops, too many people, too many lingering stares for his liking.

Speaking of busy, he looked up from where he was standing and made eye contact with a man who had his tongue down a young woman's throat. Was he trying to swallow her? Erebus couldn't help but laugh to himself, a soft smirk at the corner of his mouth. The man looked like a dog lapping at a bowl of water. That is not how you kiss a woman.

Time passed as he tried his best to stick to the shadows and wait for his father. What the hell was taking so long? Once again, he could feel eyes on him, his leer roamed back over to the embraced couple to see the man still staring at him. It was slowly starting to irk him but he did his best to ignore it and wait for his father, who was clearly taking his time in there.

"Hurry the fuck up." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The sloppy noises from the entwined couple grew louder and sounded like nails on a chalkboard to him. The woman's moans came across as forced while the man was grunting into her mouth. There it was again, the guys eyes were glued to Erebus, pushing him over the edge. What was this arseholes problem? Did he need to stare at him in order to get off with his woman? No, he was looking at him in disgust before a smug smile spread across the idiots face.

Did he think Erebus couldn't have a woman like his because of his face? He could easily steal her away so damn fast the fuckers head would spin. He smiled wickedly as a new idea came to mind. Without any hesitation he flicked his fingers in the man's direction, a flash of red sparked in his eyes.

To anyone watching, it would have looked like Erebus just flung something off of his leather coat, while the lump of a man began to holler and writhe on the floor. When he mumbled the Cruciatus curse, he fucking meant it. The woman screamed and knelt down beside the twitching figure, completely confused as to what was going on.

"Help! I don't know what's happening! Someone please help!" She shouted.

Time to put on a show. Erebus walked down the dark alley and crossed the road to the couple. He was very good at multitasking and placed a hand on the woman's back while the other he pressed to the man's chest. At this angle and close contact, he increased his spell, causing the guy to convulse beneath his palm.

"Miss? Are you alright? What happened?" He feigned kindness towards the girl.

"He just collapsed! I don't know what is wrong!" She was frantic and it took everything in him not to laugh in her face. He clenched the hand that was placed on the man's chest into a fist. Blood was now running from his eyes as he continued to experience waves of excruciating pain.

"Let me see what I can do." He soothed as he rubbed her back. He then looked the man in the face and simply gave him a look. One look was all it took for people to not fuck with him. He wanted to be smug but Erebus made sure to put this man in his place. He was skilled in wandless magic and that included all three curses. As chaotic as this type of magic could be he made sure, practically breaking himself, that he had mastered it.

He lifted the curse and the man became perfectly still, gazing at the night sky with glassy eyes. Erebus helped the woman get on her feet and placed a hand on her head.

"See. Everything is fine." He said as calmly as he could as he began to modify her memory with each pet of her hair. The Immuto spell was usually complicated but Erebus did it with ease. He forced her to think her boy toy got into a nasty bar fight and unfortunately, for him, he lost the battle and got his arse kicked. He then cast obliviate under his breath on his motionless form as the woman's recollection of the situation was being shifted and rearranged to his liking.

He stepped back into the shadows, watching as his magic had set in. The woman looked over at him after a moment, shaking her head to clear out the tog.

"Did you see who did this to him?" She asked as she returned to her position on the ground next to her lover.

"No, I didn't. Sorry." Erebus shrugged as he began to walk back towards the Hog's Head. His father was waiting for him outside the Inn, a slight look of annoyance on his thin face.

"Disturbing the peace again, Erebus?" His dad asked gravely.

"I got bored and the arsehole was staring too much." He shrugged and raised a brow at his father. His dad's tall frame limped towards him, gripping the cane he now needed to stay balanced. The man just laughed and clapped him on the back.

"That's my boy." He smiled as he began to walk away using his cane to aide him. Erebus walked beside him and chuckled as they disappeared into the night.

A/N: I decided to name the false memory spell. I don't think there is an incantation for it but if there is, I just ran with the idea. Correct me if I am wrong.🙏🏾❤️

(Repost from my old blog!)

[evaslytherpuff]

Ahhhh! Thank you, Leona!🥹

I feel like I have so many ideas for him and not enough time to write them. lol. I have put a lot of thought into who he is though.🥰❤️

He was so fed up with them making out!🤣 But this man WOULD! He’s a complete Dom.🥵

I highly recommend the game!😱 I’m such an Omi girl!❤️

"Use Crucio, it'll last longer"

A little one-shot of Erebus being annoyed at Hogsmeade

!18+ USE OF THE CRUCIATUS CURSE!

Erebus patiently waited outside of the Hog's Head Inn while his father was inside handling "business." He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed heavily, he didn't even want to be here, he would rather be anywhere else right now. His father insisted, more like demanded, stating that he needs his "bodyguard" to escort him to his meeting tonight. It just meant that there was a possibility that he would end up in a brawl with someone if things went awry.

Erebus couldn't stand crowds and Hogsmeade was usually always busy, even late at night. Whenever he was out in public everyone would just gawk at him due to the long scar down his left eye. It didn't help that the injury caused his eye to resemble a snakes which made him feel like a hideous freak. Busy shops, too many people, too many lingering stares for his liking.

Speaking of busy, he looked up from where he was standing and made eye contact with a man who had his tongue down a young woman's throat. Was he trying to swallow her? Erebus couldn't help but laugh to himself, a soft smirk at the corner of his mouth. The man looked like a dog lapping at a bowl of water. That is not how you kiss a woman.

Time passed as he tried his best to stick to the shadows and wait for his father. What the hell was taking so long? Once again, he could feel eyes on him, his leer roamed back over to the embraced couple to see the man still staring at him. It was slowly starting to irk him but he did his best to ignore it and wait for his father, who was clearly taking his time in there.

"Hurry the fuck up." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The sloppy noises from the entwined couple grew louder and sounded like nails on a chalkboard to him. The woman's moans came across as forced while the man was grunting into her mouth. There it was again, the guys eyes were glued to Erebus, pushing him over the edge. What was this arseholes problem? Did he need to stare at him in order to get off with his woman? No, he was looking at him in disgust before a smug smile spread across the idiots face.

Did he think Erebus couldn't have a woman like his because of his face? He could easily steal her away so damn fast the fuckers head would spin. He smiled wickedly as a new idea came to mind. Without any hesitation he flicked his fingers in the man's direction, a flash of red sparked in his eyes.

To anyone watching, it would have looked like Erebus just flung something off of his leather coat, while the lump of a man began to holler and writhe on the floor. When he mumbled the Cruciatus curse, he fucking meant it. The woman screamed and knelt down beside the twitching figure, completely confused as to what was going on.

"Help! I don't know what's happening! Someone please help!" She shouted.

Time to put on a show. Erebus walked down the dark alley and crossed the road to the couple. He was very good at multitasking and placed a hand on the woman's back while the other he pressed to the man's chest. At this angle and close contact, he increased his spell, causing the guy to convulse beneath his palm.

"Miss? Are you alright? What happened?" He feigned kindness towards the girl.

"He just collapsed! I don't know what is wrong!" She was frantic and it took everything in him not to laugh in her face. He clenched the hand that was placed on the man's chest into a fist. Blood was now running from his eyes as he continued to experience waves of excruciating pain.

"Let me see what I can do." He soothed as he rubbed her back. He then looked the man in the face and simply gave him a look. One look was all it took for people to not fuck with him. He wanted to be smug but Erebus made sure to put this man in his place. He was skilled in wandless magic and that included all three curses. As chaotic as this type of magic could be he made sure, practically breaking himself, that he had mastered it.

He lifted the curse and the man became perfectly still, gazing at the night sky with glassy eyes. Erebus helped the woman get on her feet and placed a hand on her head.

"See. Everything is fine." He said as calmly as he could as he began to modify her memory with each pet of her hair. The Immuto spell was usually complicated but Erebus did it with ease. He forced her to think her boy toy got into a nasty bar fight and unfortunately, for him, he lost the battle and got his arse kicked. He then cast obliviate under his breath on his motionless form as the woman's recollection of the situation was being shifted and rearranged to his liking.

He stepped back into the shadows, watching as his magic had set in. The woman looked over at him after a moment, shaking her head to clear out the tog.

"Did you see who did this to him?" She asked as she returned to her position on the ground next to her lover.

"No, I didn't. Sorry." Erebus shrugged as he began to walk back towards the Hog's Head. His father was waiting for him outside the Inn, a slight look of annoyance on his thin face.

"Disturbing the peace again, Erebus?" His dad asked gravely.

"I got bored and the arsehole was staring too much." He shrugged and raised a brow at his father. His dad's tall frame limped towards him, gripping the cane he now needed to stay balanced. The man just laughed and clapped him on the back.

"That's my boy." He smiled as he began to walk away using his cane to aide him. Erebus walked beside him and chuckled as they disappeared into the night.

A/N: I decided to name the false memory spell. I don't think there is an incantation for it but if there is, I just ran with the idea. Correct me if I am wrong.🙏🏾❤️

(Repost from my old blog!)