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claymoresword · 8 months ago

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I Choose Her | Stand-Alone Series Chapter: 1

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Prompt: Hermione gets jealous as she catches you flirting with someone else, but it ends in a heartfelt exchange between the two of you.

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: romilda vane gets rejected like canon, y/n & hermione are soulmates its confirmed, no plot just fluff

Note: a little something to tide you guys over while i work on the final chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character @aki-ham @brocoliisscared

You harshly shove the Hufflepuff seeker out of the way, he doesn't budge, not until you shoulder him again. This time it unsteadies his broom, in an effort to not lose his balance, he falls back, leaving you alone in pursuit of the Golden Snitch.

You manage to locate the snitch once more, the golden ball just a few paces out of reach, as you extend your hand, you can feel its wing fluttering violently against your fingertips As you attempt to grab it, the flying ball quickly changes course trying to evade you, but you still manage to follow closely behind.

"Come on." You mutter under your breath, you are so close, the ball is practically yours.

Coincidentally, a large gust of wind graces your flight path at just the right moment. You take full advantage of it, picking up a bit of momentum, just enough to trap the Golden Snitch in your grasp.

You then whisk yourself around on the broom to face the stands, stubbornly the Snitch tries to wriggle free, but you hold it firmly still.

A large roar erupts from the audience as you hold up your prize for all to see. They were cheering for you.

The sound is exhilarating, intoxicating. It makes you feel invisible– but there was only one person's cheer worth taking notice.

In a sea of Gryffindors, you find Hermione's gaze. Your grin widens, and she smiles right back at you.

Soon enough an involuntarily blush covers your cheeks, and you are forced to look away.

"Y/n has caught the Golden Snitch. Slytherin wins!"

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The celebration continues well into the evening in the Slytherin common room. Students from all houses fill the space, taking advantage of the unlimited amounts of liquor and butter beer available.

Crabbe and Blaise insist on parading you on their shoulders for the dozenth time tonight, it seems the more intoxicated they get, the harder they find the task of leaving you alone.

“Y/n!, Y/n!, Y/n!” The crowd continues to chant beneath you, and you can only allow yourself to enjoy the moment. Even though the incessant attention from everyone tonight was starting to peeve you slightly.

The only person you wanted to spend time with tonight is Hermione– yet she is nowhere to be found.

“Alright, put me down guys.” You raise your voice over the commotion, and your friends finally oblige, taking you off their shoulders, you let out a breath of relief once your feet touch flat ground.

“If you keep it up, Y/n, we'll win all the games this season.” Pansy claims, her voice closer to a shout.

You merely give her a nod, taking her words for a compliment and nothing more. Deliberately ignoring the sudden sense of crippling responsibility that's been set upon you.

You find yourself looking through the crowd once more, hoping to spot a familiar brown-eyed beauty.

Where is she?

You push through the sea of students, a few of them continue hurling praises at you and taking the opportunity to squeeze your shoulder as a version of acclamation.

By the time you reach the large window by the far side of the room, you are out of breath.

The spot you've escaped to is somewhat secluded, so you are given a chance to gain your bearings, as you silently observe the view of the black lake.

That is, until someone unwelcomed enters your space.

“You were amazing on the pitch today–” Romilda Vane says, standing an inch too close.

You catch a whiff of alcohol on her breath, and your effort to distance yourself fails as she merely sees it as an opportunity to step closer.

“Thanks, Romilda. I didn't realize you liked Quidditch.” You state dismissively, before scanning your surroundings again, for any indication of Hermione.

“I don't, not really..” She replies, and a bold hand on your shoulder snatches your attention once more.

“I like watching you though.” Romilda says, inching even closer, you watch as her gaze manages to find your lips for a moment.

Normally, you'd entertain such a blatant attempt at flirting, especially from someone so attractive– but tonight, you couldn't care less.

Hermione is the only girl you want complimenting you.

Romilda proceeds to brazenly caress your bicep, she gasps slightly after giving your firm muscle a squeeze.

“I bet you could easily lift me.” She remarks suggestively, and you let out a dismissive scoff, but this only urges her to continue eyeing you hungrily– a mere object she'd like to toy with.

“Perhaps we could find out–” You suggest, but immediately regret your effort in humoring her.

Romilda mistakes your words as an invitation. She leans in to meet your lips and you quickly swerve out of the way.

“Some other time.” You quip, subsequently catching sight of a familiar face in the distance You don't even bother letting Romilda down easily before chasing after her.

“Hermione!” You call out, but the Gryffindor is making it quickly through the crowd. It seemed shouting her name only motivated her to walk further away.

You finally catch up to her in the gallery, outside the common room, the door soon shuts behind you, and the two of you are left alone.

“Hey, slow down–” You say, finally grabbing hold of Hermione’s arm.

“Where are you going?” You ask, but when she turns to look at you, her hardened expression takes you aback.

“Are you alright?” Your ask of real concern is only met with an eye-roll. Hermione groans in frustration as she tries to wrench out of your hold.

“Let me go–” She asks sternly, and you do just that, but her demeanor continues to unnerve you. You could never bear it whenever she was upset with you.

Whatever it is, you plan to rectify it now.

“Hermione..” You coax gently, and the Gryffindor no longer makes the effort to walk away from you, instead she leans against the stone wall, her gaze fixed towards the ground.

You stuff your hands into your pockets as you made the conscious effort to not reach out for her again.

“You know you can talk to me– tell me what's wrong, darling. Was it something I did?” You try once more, and finally, she graces you with a lingering glance.

"Why are you with me? You could have any girl in the school.. anyone you wanted. So why me?” Hermione asks, the faint tremor in her voice breaks you, but you can't help the incredulous look that paints your features.

“Are you really asking me that?” You ask flippantly.

Your carelessness only makes visible tears well up in Hermione's eyes, and you immediately regret opening your mouth.

“Oh– no, I'm sorry. Come here.” You remark frantically, pulling Hermione closer by the waist, and she accepts your embrace.

“I'm sorry.” You repeat earnestly. She buries her face in the crook of your neck, despite herself.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me, do you?” You mutter, as you take in the scent of her hair.

Hermione pulls back to look at you expectantly, and you don't fight the urge to hold her face in both your hands, leaning in to kiss her deeply.

“I think you're brilliant.” You admit as your lips remain less than an inch apart.

“Really?” Hermione breathes out, and you can only smile.

“Yes.” You claim before tilting your head to kiss her jaw. “Being with you.. it's like a dream.” You continue, relishing at the feeling of Hermione shifting closer to feel more of you.

“A dream I never want to wake from.” You utter directly into her ear, before placing a kiss against it.

Hermione shudders in delight, her hand slips up your chest to the collar of your shirt, she clutches it, at an effort to steady herself.

You proceed to kiss her neck, and amidst a series of soft moans, Hermione utters something far more incriminating.

“I love you..” She says breathlessly, almost too soft to be real.

You feel her tense up as you halted the string of kisses you were leaving upon her skin, trying to process what you just heard.

“What did you just say?” You ask, pulling away so you could trap Hermione's gaze.

The evident blush upon her cheeks only causes your grin to widen.

“Nothing, I–” Hermione stutters, and you decide to help refresh her memory.

“You love me?” You ask, hopeful that she wouldn't deny it.

“Yes. Maybe.. I don't know.” She averts her eyes, and you have to bite your lip to stop from smiling too wide.

“Well, that's a relief. because I think, maybe, I love you too.” You respond, tucking a strand of hair behind Hermione's ear, and this makes her look at you again.

“Wait– you do?” Hermione asks, her manner ever unassuming. She is perfect, and she loves you.

“I love you like a madman.” You admit plainly, and her chuckle causes your heart to flutter violently in your chest. “Sometimes it feels like I can hardly do anything else besides love you.”

Hermione's expression visibly softens at your admittance, she leans in to kiss you again, you gladly welcome the sensation of her tongue entering your mouth.

“You make me feel things that I don't even understand sometimes.. but I just know that, I seem to never want to be away from you.”

Hermione utters after separating her lips from your own, her hand moves to the nape of your neck, and the other runs through your hair.

“I feel the same.” You state, placing a chaste kiss against her cheek.

“So let us never part, my love.”

#hermione granger imagine #hermione x reader #slytherin au #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader

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luvingwoo · 2 years ago

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svt 95 line and you at hogwarts

a/n : back in my harry potter tom riddle phase, that started when I was four and I had to combine it with the next thing dear to me. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Any support is very appreciated:). Love you.

seungcheol : You first met Seungcheol in your first year at the Sorting ceremony. All of the scared, wonder filled first years stood together, both of you included. When the Professor placed the hat before you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Which house will you be in? One boy next to you seemed to see your nervous face and reassuringly smiled as well as an eleven year old could. This was a few years ago. That boy was Seungcheol, who was sorted into Gryffindor, sadly not into the same house as you. That doesn't mean that you had never talked with him, you actually had few classes together and even were Potions partners. Seungcheol quickly realised that you’re slightly more introverted and didn’t have as many friends like he did. Seungcheol came up with a plan, but he decided to share his intentions with Wonwoo, his very introverted friend, to see if it maybe wouldn’t be way too overwhelming. You were surprised when in one potions class Seungcheol proposed the idea of you going into Hogsmeade with him and his twelve friends.

jeonghan : A cunning slytherin, a trouble maker. He can’t count how many times he got compared to the Marauders (he is like four of them combined). He doesn’t only pull mischief on other students, teachers and ghosts didn’t escape it either. Him and Peeves are a deadly combination, as they once scared Almost Headless Nick together and he swore that he had a heart attack. Madam Pomfrey was then sadly annoyed by that ghost, claiming that he needed some medical care. You observed from the background and couldn't help, but laugh every single time. You never talked with him, even though you’re in the same year as him and share a few classes together. Sadly you have never noticed, when he did his usual mischief act in the presence of other students, when he always glanced into the crowd of students to see you laughing. Finding himself addicted to it.

joshua : A hufflepuff, headboy and a prefect. Is a role model of all the young hufflepuffs and is the first crush of those young girls. Joshua is very kind hearted and gentle, not only in speech, but in action too. You remember when you were sorted into hufflepuff and met Joshua who was already in his second year. He was so welcoming and kind even then. It was genuinely impossible not to like him. It was now an exam eason at Hogwarts and you were struggling, herbology was kicking your ass. I mean how are you supposed to tell so many herbs and other plants apart? Thankfully Joshua came to rescue, he heard you in the common room telling your struggles to some of your friends and decided to be your tutor for a few weeks. As it was spring, Joshua decided to meet up outside under a tree. You must say that you didn’t expect it to be this relaxing, both of you sitting under a tree, covered under a shadow, sitting on soft grass, birds singing and Joshua reading some of his notes to you in a very gentle voice.

#seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen hogwarts au #svt headcanons #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #scoups oneshot #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan oneshot #joshua hong #joshua hong x reader

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animasola86 · 1 year ago

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↓ SCREENSHOTS MASTERLIST

(last updated: Apr 02, 2024)

→ MC SCREENSHOTS MASTERLIST

→ SEBASTIAN AS MC MASTERLIST

→ LANDMARKS ETC. MASTERLIST

→ OTHER CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

Sebastian Sallow

→ HANDS MASTERLIST

→ NSFW SCREENSHOTS MASTERLIST 🌶️

→ MISC SEBASTIAN SCREENSHOTS MASTERLIST

Charms

Ominis and Sebastian being hot classmates

Random Charms Class people (incl. two brooding Slytherins)

Charming boys in Charms Class

Charms Class is boring

Defence Against the Dark Arts

Meeting him for the first time

Fearsome Duellist Sebastian Sallow (has a bad day)

"You give as good as you get!" *bodyslams MC*

Ready to duel?

Sebastian in Class

Trip to Hogsmeade

Sebastian works up the courage to smile at f!MC in the Three Broomsticks

Bell Tower Blues (Sebastian is impatient)

The very best of guides

Double Trouble (goofy faces)

Double Trouble ("Did they see us?")

Double Trouble at the Three Broomsticks (1/2)

Double Trouble at the Three Broomsticks (2/2)

Herbology

Random Angles in That Scene

Your favorite scene

Mandrakes

Cottonballs

Random Sebastian Animations in the Greenhouse

In the Greenhouses before/after class

Quidditch!Seb in Herbology Class 1 (the first glance)

Quidditch!Seb in Herbology Class 2 (THAT MOMENT)

Quidditch!Seb in Herbology Class 3 (the crossed-arms-stance)

Quidditch!Seb in Herbology Class 4 (mandrakes)

Mandrakes! (w/ MC and unimpressed Hufflepuffs)

Potions

Welcome to Potions!

Sebastian "I'm adorable" Sallow

A Strange Gesture

Library

Sneaking into the Restricted Section

Sneaking into the Restricted Section AGAIN

Sebastian & Peeves

Asking Sebastian to take you to the Restricted Section

Pre-Library-Heist Stares

Waiting, always waiting

The Sallow Twins

Feldcroft

Sebastian in Feldcroft

Hating Solomon Sallow

The Sallows

Scriptorium

Dark Sebastian

Crucio 1/2 (cast on MC)

Crucio 2/2 (cast on Sebastian)

Looking good doing nothing

Slytherin common room

Sebastian reads in front of the fireplace

Meeting his Doppelgänger

Inside the Slytherin Dormitory

Inside the Slytherin Common Room (with MC)

A Healthy Reading Posture

The Sallow Twins (staring at a book)

Great Hall

Sorting Ceremony (Quidditch has been cancelled)

Sorting Ceremony (A Slytherin Welcome)

Sebastian talks in the Great Hall

Sebastian(s) in the Great Hall

Various Classes

Sebastian in Transfiguration Class

Sebastian (and nifflers) in Beasts Class

Sebastian and Poppy (Charms and DADA)

Undercroft

Puppy dog eyes

Sebastian is very surprised to be in the Undercroft

Angry Sebastian (calling you ignorant)

The last triptych piece (and puppy dog eyes)

"I knew there was a way to help Anne!"

The Smolder Pout (more puppy dog eyes)

Smiling in false hope

#masterlist #my screencaps #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy screenshots #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow screenshots

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slytherin-paramour · 1 year ago

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Whew! Boy, this was meant to be a lot shorter than it is! This is a sad tale revolving around the Richard Jackdaw storyline, if it diverges from the actual story at all I don't care! 🤣🙏

(Thank you to @cuffmeinblack for the imagery of #aliveRichard lol)

💠▪️💠▪️💠

So I've started outlining a story in which you are Richard's best friend.

You grew up together, and now you are secretly in love with him.

You do everything with him, go exploring with him, keep his secrets, lie for him etc.

He constantly batters your ear with talk of Apollonia and how much he wants to court her and even though it's like a dagger to the heart you listen on with a smile and encouragement but secretly cry with despair when you are alone.

Apollonia knows how you feel and uses every opportunity to make you feel worse, flirting with Richard and stringing him along.

Eventually, Richard gets tired of chasing Apollonias unrequited love and focuses on adventuring with you again, and your heart starts to feel better.

You help him to store away random items and artifacts that he discovers, in a little enchanted cavern down by the lake. (He informs you that he'd stolen a few of these items in an attempt to impress Apollonia, which you frown upon and roll your eyes.

You spend a lot of time there in the lake cavern with him, chatting about anything and everything, playing wizards chess and trying to decipher old tomes.

One night, Slytherin are celebrating a quidditch victory over Gryffindor in The Three Broomsticks. Student's from all house's are gathered there, having a good time and drinking.

Richard and you are there, and this is the night when he finally gets acquainted with a pretty Hufflepuff named Anne Thisbe. Anne becomes besotted with him, and he is ecstatic at the attention. You'd seen her about the castle but not spoken to her-a year below you, you think. Your heart lurches as he chats animatedly with this girl. And so begins a tragic tale.

Richard starts to spend a lot of time with Anne, to your dismay. Because of this, you instinctively draw into yourself and away from him, throwing yourself into your studies.

You are surprised one day when he seeks you out-alone. He's noticed your lack of presence and questions you about it, to which you conjure up a lie of some sort to placate him. He sees the tired look on your face, dark rings under your eyes and is worried for you. You wave him off and swallow thickly, asking him about Anne. It's then that he mentions something about some ripped out book pages that he'd stolen from Peeves the Poltergeist, that included some sort of a map that he intended to follow in the next few weeks.

He shows you the pages, covered with cryptic imagery and symbols that aren't like anything you've seen before, and you can't help the bad feeling that runs through you as you brush your fingertips over the parchment.

You consider telling him about the bad feeling, but looking up at his excited face as he stares at the pages from over your shoulder, you lose the will to ruin his joy.

You think, and hope for a moment that he's going to ask you to go with him, as usual, but your heart drops in your chest when he starts to talk about leaving fun little riddles for Anne to solve, that he couldn't wait for her to join him on this exploration.

He falters as he witnesses your crestfallen face, mistaking your heartache for exhaustion as he brushes his thumb over your cheek gently. The touch sends sparks through you and you look into his beautiful brown eyes as he speaks.

"You don't look so well. You should try and get some rest."

There's an annual ball coming up in the next couple of weeks, and it's all the Hogwarts students can talk about. You don't think you'll go. Don't want to see Richard dancing with Anne. Whom you know that he invited. But then you are surpised by an unexpected invite by a boy in your year named Tobias Ashworth, a Gryffindor. He's handsome, you note, but a bit quiet. Likes to keep himself to himself, usually. Then he tells you that he's noticed you around the castle, in your quiet moments alone when you're in the library or tending your plant's in the greenhouse. He thinks that you seem like a nice person and would love to take you to the ball, get to know you better.

You think of declining, but then you think of Richard, and of Anne, and so you smile at Tobias and accept his offer.

The night of the ball is in full swing. Tobias is off getting you drinks. He looks very handsome in his tailored dress robes. You are wearing a fine gown of green silk and lace, long pearlescent gloves up to your elbows. You stand in a corner, watching. Looking out for Anne and Richard. You see them dancing at the far end of the Great Hall. You also see the seething glares of Apollonia Black as she watches the same couple, blatant jealousy shining through even though she had a good looking boy on her arm tonight. You roll your eyes, the action becoming a habit of yours.

Tobias returns with your drinks. You try and forget about Richard and focus on your date, accepting with a small curtesy when he asks you to join him on the dancefloor.

You don't notice the disapproving looks sent your way by your best friend, who although dancing with Anne, has noticed your presence and is quite disconcerted about the fact that you're dancing with a random boy that he's never met before. He also thinks that he's never seen you look this lovely before, noting the curves of your body in the pretty dress that you're wearing. He doesn't enjoy the fact that your dance partner is holding said curves and frowns, returning his focus to Anne when she notes his distraction.

Tobias presses his lips against the back of your gloved hand just outside the Slytherin common room, thanking you for a perfect evening and bidding you goodnight. You watch his figure dissappear up the stone steps behind you, a smile on your face. Turning to enter through the enchanted snake archway, you are shocked when a voice whispers into your ear.

"He seems...nice."

From nowhere, Richard appears, dropping his disillusionment charm and looking down at your scared form with a smirk on his face. You frown and reprimand him for sneaking up on you, before putting two and two together and realising that he must have been following you. You ask him as such to which he scoffs and looks away.

He informs you that he wasn't being creepy. He just wanted to make sure that Tobias' intentions with you were above board. He thinks that the other boy is a terrible match for you and that you deserve better.

You look at him incredulously, not sure how to respond to him, but silently seethe. How dare he? How dare he presume to have any say over who you decide to date? Who would be good for you? Tears fill your eye's and you turn to storm away from him, afraid you'll say something you'll regret. That is until you feel a hand wrap around your gloved wrist to yank you back. Your head snaps back toward him angrily, tears now flowing down your face. You tell him to go back to Anne. To leave you alone.

Richard is confused. Confused because he doesn't quite understand what he's feeling tonight. He thinks of Apollonia, the vile temptress. And then he thinks of lovely Anne, with whom he said goodnight to earlier before giving in to the jealous streak that made him follow you tonight. And then he thinks of you. That wonderful constant in his life. There through the best and worst of his times. He remembers the way that you danced with that other boy tonight, and the way the sight of it sent sharp tentrils of pain through his chest. Confusing.

He sees you now, tears streaming over flushed cheeks, angry azure eyes barely focusing on him, and he thinks that you are possibly one of the most beautiful, strong and smart girls that he's ever laid eyes upon. How hadn't he noticed that before?

Coarse fingertips gently brush stray hair from your temple, another hand cradling your chin as though your face were made of china. Chocolate irises gazed into your angry ones with intent. Your lungs struggle to take in a breath of air. When had he gotten so close? And then his lips, divine and soft, were brushing softly against yours, slowly and unsure. You barely had a chance to register before he was pulling away, forehead resting against yours as you both took deep breaths.

"I'm sorry."

He spoke the words and then shot away, down into the Slytherin common room and out of sight. You stood alone, trying to process what had happened, your fingers trailing over your lips as another stray tear fell to join the salty streaks on your face. You briefly wonder whether you are destined for heartache.

You don't speak to Richard for the next two weeks, only seeing him in classes and rare glimpses throughout the castle. You don't even see him in the common room. The distance makes you feel physically sick, the memory of his soft touch constantly replaying in your mind. You miss him terribly.

The few times that you do see him, Anne is predictably by his side, smiling her perfect smile as he laughs at something she'd said to him. Another blow to your tormented soul.

Tobias says hello now and then, if your paths cross in the hallways. Though you get the feeling that he too, is keeping his distance. You wonder if Richard has said anything to the poor boy. Likely.

You begin to regret not having a wider friend group. Days that were usually spent in Richard's company now reduced to a pathetic loneliness in his absence. You feel increasingly more hollow as the days pass by.

It's late one evening when you awaken in your dormitory bed, the girls that you share your room with are sound asleep. You wipe the sweat from your brow. Another nightmare. About Richard, and those damned pages of his. You can't quite recall the dream, but it was bad enough for you to wake up in a cold sweat. You wrap your night robe around yourself and walk as silently as possible out of your dorm and into the Slytherin common room.

Curled up on one of the plush, elegant sofas in front of the fireplace, you stare into the flames. You are unable to shake away the awful feelings that stemmed from your dream. This, along with your injured heart, causes twin tears to trail down over your face. You wipe them away, frustrated. Another tear. Then another. The deluge refuses to stop. You press your face into you knees which are tucked up against your body and sob. Your body shakes visibly from the force of your anguish.

An arm wraps around you. The sofa shifting as a body presses up beside you. Your face snaps to the left, shocked, embarrassed to be caught in such a state.

Richard's face is laden with guilt. He pulls you further in to him, burying his face into your hair and mumbling something that sounded like 'sorry' in a regretful tone.

You should be angry. You should be storming away from him and not looking back. You quickly realise that you could never do that, though. Not with him. Instead you press your sodden face into his neck, your arms winding around his broad form and you let him hold you, comfort you as you finally release your frustration.

After calming down somewhat, you ask him why he kissed you that night, to which he replied honestly. He has feelings for you, and is confused. He has feeling's for Anne as well, but his feelings for you had bombarded him out of nowhere. Smacking him like a bludger to the head.

After about an hour of reconciliation, apologies and emotionally charged conversation, you're feeling exhausted. Your feelings are still very much all over the place. Truths had been spoken but made thing's even more confusing than before.

Richard runs a hand through his soft brown curls and yawns. He informs you that he's planning on following his mystery map the next evening, with Anne hopefully joining him should she figure out the puzzles he'd left for her. He gives you a longing look before sheepishly asking if you'd like to join him.

You shake your head quickly, that feeling of dread curling down your arms and into the tips of your fingers. You grip onto Richard's shirt sleeves tightly, looking up at him with fearful, desperate eyes. You beg him not to go. To forget about the pages and the silly map. You even offer to go treasure hunting elsewhere with him, so long as he promised that he'd abandon this quest of his. He chuckles and pulls you closer to him so that your head is resting on his chest. He card's his fingers through your hair, a soothing motion that makes your eyes droop. You reach out to grip his hand, already half asleep, and press your lips against his knuckles.

"...Promise me...promise that you'll stay...I need you..."

His heart clenches as he watches your eyes finally flutter shut, his hand still clasped in yours. Leaning down, he presses his lips against your forehead, wordlessly asking you to forgive him.

You wake late into the day to the sounds of students bustling around the common room. You were exactly where you fell asleep in the early hours, the only difference being the lack of Richard by your side.

Your chest still tightened when you thought of him, and of Anne and your situation. You push the thought's to the back of your mind and head to the showers to clean up.

The day passes by uneventfully. You throw yourself back into your studies, feeling at least a tad lighter now that your emotions were laid bare and Richard was speaking to you again. You don't see him all day, which doesn't surprise you anymore. You hope you'll see him later in the common room.

Night falls. He still neglects to make an appearance. You think suddenly of the map and the book pages. That's where he was, you thought. He was off adventuring with Anne in the moonlight. You'd asked him not to go, but he'd gone anyway.

You close your eyes and stare out into the murky depths of the black lake. The tall glass windows shimmered with the motion of the water. The quiver of foreboding is present once more.

After a night and morning of practically no sleep, you are sitting alone at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. You pick at your food, chewing away at the tiny pieces. Your mind was on Richard, and how he had fared with Anne on their outing. Something wasn't sitting right with you though. A quick enquiry earlier had informed you that he hadn't returned to his dorm that night. Your instant thought was that he'd most likely slept in the lakeside cavern instead of disturbing his dorm mates. He'd probably taken Anne there too. You soured at the thought.

This hypothesis was thrown to the wind when none other than Anne herself approached your table, quietly asking you for a word.

She wants to know if you've seen Richard this morning. She informs you that she did not, in fact, accompany him on his venture last night. She found his letter and his puzzle, but being unable to solve it, decided not to go to him. Anne looks sheepishly at the floor. You begin to panic. You try to remember the landmarks on the map, but come up blank. You take off from the Great Hall, leaving Anne standing there dumbfounded.

It's hard to breath. The dread. The nightmares. They were trying to warn you of something, you just knew it. As soon as you were outside, you pulled out your retractable broomstick and extended it, hopping on and flying as fast as you could towards the one place you could remember from the map-the Forbidden Forest. You'd search the entire damned place if you had to, praying to Merlin that you would find your best friend.

Weeks had passed and you'd run out of tears to cry. Your searching had proved fruitless. The pain inside you was incomparable to anything that you'd ever felt before. You missed him. Missed his voice, missed his touch, missed his friendship. The school was aware of his disappearance, and Aurors were sent to investigate but even they came up short. It was as if he'd simply vanished.

You knew in your heart that something awful had happened to him though. And you were numb. If he were ok, he'd have come back to you by now.

You dreamt of him frequently, his fingers on you skin, a look of pure, unconditional affection shining in his eyes. And then you'd wake up, drenched in sweat with your face sticky from your tears.

It was one such night, lying in your bed, that you'd woken yourself up with your whimpers and snot ridden nose. Your hair stuck to your wet cheeks and you sobbed into your arm that draped over your eyes. You lay there in your grief, briefly considering casting muffliato, when an echoey yet familiar voice broke through the darkness of the room.

There, at the foot of your bed, stood none other than Richard Jackdaw. Or rather, floated Richard Jackdaw. Your hand shot up to clasp around your mouth, unable to handle the absolute agony of witnessing your best friend, your lost love...hovering before you as a ghost. A fresh flood of tears waterfalled from your eyes and you groaned into your palm.

Richard looked at you with despair, his ethereal form moving closer to you, as if to comfort you. He brought his wispy hand up to your face, but sadness befell him when his fingertips passed through you. You try to ask him what happened, through shaking breaths, but he can't remember how he died. He apologised for not listening to you and for being a terrible friend, to which you denied with a sob.

He begins to move away from your bed, at which you panic and whisper for him not to go, not to leave you again. He turns to look at you with a sad smile, his once vivid eyes now black and lifeless.

"I was in love with you, you know."

And then, he was gone, and you wouldn't see him again for a long, long time.

That night, you cast the silencing charm around you and screamed and cried until your voice was hoarse and you had nothing left to give. You cursed that map, and you cursed yourself for not being able to save him.

Fin.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #harry potter #slytherin pride #hogwarts legacy oc #Richard Jackdaw #hogwarts legacy mc #Anne Thisbe #Apollonia Black

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flamboyantly-incompetent · 1 year ago

Text

OoTP, Chapter 3 - Your First Lessons

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Word Count: ~4,800

Note: the length of this one kind of got away from me, can't lie. usually my method of proof reading / editing is retyping the whole thing from my text editor to tumblr but this was taking me days with all the other stuff I have going on, so if there are more weird typos than usual that's why and I'm sorry

Saturday morning came, and you woke up and groaned at the ceiling. You hoped that if you pressed your pillow onto your head hard enough you could go back in time to stop yourself from offering tutoring to the biggest git at Hogwarts.

Wilbur sat down on your chest and started purring.

"Gff mrng," you mumbled from under your pillow. He began kneading your chest. You sighed and removed the pillow. "I suppose you'd like some treats." He pushed his wet nose into your face, so you pushed back your bed curtains to find an open bag. Donna was awake too, stretching in bed.

When she saw you were up, she said, "You getting breakfast? I think Yvette is already gone - she said something about Quidditch before passing out last night."

"Nah, I've gotta get to the greenhouses. I'm tutoring someone today."

"Who?" She sat next to you on your bed, scratching under Wilbur's chin.

You grimaced. "Uh, you probably don't know him. He's a fifth year. A Slytherin."

Donna laughed, then said, "Oh, you're serious? Well, ha! Good luck."

"Thanks. Keep him company, will you?" You pulled on a pair of jeans and a lime green and peach jumper your mum had described as 'hideous, but warm,' and headed out the door.

Before the greenhouses though, you needed to make a stop in the library if you were going to help Malfoy rewrite his self-fertalizing shrubs essay, which, thankfully, was about as easy to find as the great hall.

Halfway down the corridor you heard Peeves singing at the top of his ethereal lungs, "Saturday! Ink hooray! Why are you working? Saturday! Time to play! Good luck without your ink!" followed by the unmistakable sound of ink bottles shattering against stone. To be fair to Peeves, that was the nicest thing you'd ever heard him sing.

A Gryffindor came sprinting round the corner, dripping in ink, followed closely by the Gryffindor ghost.

"Oh, hey Ginny. Rough morning?"

She scowled, "I don't know why I even bother. Scourgify." She tapped herself with her wand, and the ink melted into the think air.

"I'll go get the Bloody Baron," the ghost said before drifting off into the wall.

"You don't happen to have any spare ink, do you?" asked Ginny. "I've procrastinated too much on that nonmagical transportation essay for Muggle Studies."

"Yep, s'all yours. Is the library...?"

"I'd wait for Nick to get back. Peeves has totally blocked the door. He's actually trapped a couple students and Madam Pince inside."

"Great." You peered around the corner; inside the library Peeves was doing a jig atop a toppled bookcase leaning against the door and throwing books with every kick. Madam Pince repaired them as quick as he could rip them apart. You watched, horrified and baffled, through the windows lining the library until the Bloody Baron appeared a few minutes later. He drifted up out of the floor and bellowed at Peeves incoherently, who then disappeared into the ceiling in a fright.

You ducked under the fallen bookcase and gingerly stepped through the books littering the ground, glancing at titles. You found a few that would suffice and stuffed them into your bag, and left to find your way back out to the greenhouse.

A few other students were already there, milling around with watering cans and bags of fertilizer.

Draco Malfoy waited for you by the vegetable patches, wearing a green argyle sweater vest over a pristine white button-down -why he chose that to garden in a mystery you wouldn't venture to guess- staring at his shoes.

He looked up and met your eye; his mouth fell open but before he could speak, you said, "Did you bring your essay?"

He nodded sharply. "I wasn't sure you were still coming."

"Oh? And why was that?" you snarked, walking past him to greenhouse 5. He trotted to keep up with you.

"Well, you seemed pretty mad the other day."

"Don't know what you mean. Sit." You held out your hand for the essay. At the top you saw, "T- see me" scrawled in Professor Sprout's handwriting, and you began to scan through. It was truly dreadful, not only was it several inches too short, it made the argument that the shrub bore fruit that, when it fell, turned into excrement that put nutrients back into the soil. "Where did you get this information? Don't tell me you made it up!"

"She gave us homework the first day!"

"So did everyone else, small wonder this is so bad. I have brought actual, real sources for you to pull from in your new essay." You ripped the old one in half with a flourish. "And we'll never speak of this one again."

Draco huffed, "How is anyone supposed to come up with a foot of yammering about a shrub?" You shot him a dark look, your patience wearing thin. "Fine, fine. Where do I start?"

You handed him a tome entitled Carnivorous Flora - Reversal in the Food Chain and said, "Chapter three."

"Carnivorous?"

"Read," you commanded, pointing firmly at the book, "and we'll talk after you've got the broad strokes. I'm going to get some things set up for your snapdragons; Professor Sprout may be lenient and regrade that as well. They'll be on the O.W.L. anyway." You found the snapdragon; it wasn't difficult since the tips of its petals were still discolored from the acidic soil, and pulled down the limestone, as well as powdered moonstone, ground horsefly wings, and gargoyle blood. Draco was still skimming, so you took a moment to fill a watering can from the pump outside again, not willing to fail at that bloody water creation charm in front of him.

"Well?" you asked, setting the water down.

"This is absurd. These things eat people. There's a whole section about how to keep them from eating you."

You pointed at your bag, "In Travels with Trolls there's a fairly detailed account of an accidental encounter with one while Gilderoy Lockhart was searching for trolls in the caves of Sweden. There are pictures in that one there - Flesh-Eating Trees of the World - for reference."

"God, that's disgusting."

"Yep. Am I safe in assuming that you've written a passable essay before?"

Draco scowled. "Well, yeah, but where do I even start with this? I can't very well write a foot on how to survive a flesh eating bush attack for Herbology."

"Ok," you sat down next to him and pulled out some new parchment and a quill. "We can start with an outline, and you can do the writing on your own." You walked through the important sections - climate, soil quality, how best to care for the plant - and picked out various bits of helpful text.

You continued, "If you need more length after that, it's always nice to not why someone would want to cultivate a species. These produce seed pods that are rich in iron, used in various medicinal concoctions, see here?" you pointed to a page in the potions textbook for second years. "Otherwise, once you've covered the basics of having the thing in your garden, just find something about it that interests you and expand on it. That should get you to a foot of parchment, and at least an A."

You stood up and stretched a bit before moving onto the snapdragons.

They were whining in a weak, rather pathetic way. Draco watched with a creased brow as you explained how their petals acted as a pH test, and you could tell his soil was too acidic based on the green tinge around the petals' edges. You pointed to the things you'd pulled out and said, "The limestone is the gentlest way to raise the pH, but I think for you the moonstone should do fine. You want purple edges, if they turn blue you've gone too far - add some gargoyle blood. Works as well as leaf mold, but these things love blood."

He took a pinch of the powdered moonstone and sprinkled it close to the base of the stems. "How do you know so much about this?" The petals lost their sickly hue and softened into yellow.

"My mum runs a potions supply shop. We grow almost everything we've seen in class."

"And that's why you're in Herbology 5?"

"Yeah, Professor Sprout convinced Dumbledore to let me skip ahead a bit because I kept interrupting her in first year." Draco continued to sprinkle the moonstone on his firebreathing snapdragons, and their leaves finally turned the right shade of purple. "Stop! That's perfect. Now you want to annoy them until they start glowing red, then be ready to douse. I'll go get a bottle." He managed to rather cleanly bottle beautifully plum smoke right up to the brim, and despite your lingering distaste, you bloomed with just a little bit of pride at his success.

The sun had been climbing steadily during your activities, and by the time the bottle of smoke was tucked into Draco Malfoy's bag, along with the reference books you pulled for him, it was obviously noon by the way the rays beat down through the greenhouse's glass roof and the way your stomach rumbled with fervor. He thanked you rather brusquely, the conflict of Thursday apparently remembered, and strutted back off into the castle.

The next Herbology lesson rolled around, and while Draco refused to meet your eye during Professor Sprout's lecture on the screechsnap, on your way out the door you heard, "Y/N! Hang on!"

He had jogged out into the sprinkling rain, bag held above his head, and handed a roll of parchment to you. It was his rewritten essay, a hastily written "E" and smiley face at the top.

"She accepted the smoke too." Though good news, his expression remained rather stoic. You cocked an eyebrow. "I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it," you said before turning to walk away.

He followed you into the castle, "No, really, I owe you. I don't understand why else you'd offer-"

"Because I could. Is that not good enough?" You shook your robes off in front of a fireplace, eyebrows knit together. "And you desperately needed it. If you need any help with the screechsnaps let me know - they can be a bit nippy."

His mouth opened and closed a few times, a bit like a fish out of water. "You clearly don't like me though, no accounting for taste, but I don't-"

"I like you fine when you aren't being a git or ignoring me for no reason. Besides, this has nothing to do with-"

He got quieter, glancing around at the other students walking through the hall, "I just don't want anyone to know - just if my father found out I need help in Herbology, from a fourth year in Hufflepuff-"

"And what's that supposed to mean? Nevermind, I don't care. I have to get to Potions. Goodbye." You huffed away from him, fuming and damp, asking yourself repeatedly why me?

Though you had a sinking feeling that every conversation with Draco Malfoy would be a contentious one, Saturday morning after the third week of the academic year you were inhaling a muffin on your way to greenhouse 5. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to continue tutoring, or if Draco would even show up, and your stomach was turning over at the thought of it. Yet, once you sat down at one of the benches, you saw that silver-blond hair glint harshly through the tinted glass and the knot in your gut loosened. He jerked open the door and paused.

You gestured at the bench across from you. “This time I wasn’t sure if you were showing up,” you joked weakly.

“Well, as you so deftly pointed out, I desperately need help.”

The morning was tense as you explained the homework - getting the screechsnaps to sing and harmonize - but by the end you thought you may have a way to lighten the mood. You just hoped you were right.

“So,” you began slowly, “you still owe me one?”

Draco’s eyebrows narrowed. “Yes.”

“I think I’ve thought of something. Do you know the water conjuration charm?”

He pulled his wand from his pocket unceremoniously, tapped the nearest empty pot and commanded, “Aguamenti.” The pot filled to the brim with perfectly clear, almost sparkling, water.

“I’m absolute pixie piss at Transfiguration, but I’ve had to use the hand-pump outside since forever, and I wondered if you could help me with it?”

“This is the favor you want from me,” he said, deadpan.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound casual. “That way no one owes anyone, and no one has to know.”

“And you’re ok with that all of a sudden?”

“Well I don’t love the idea, but it’s not like we need to be friends, right? This is just a mutually beneficial academic exchange.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re angry or not and I use big words when I’m nervous. But I can’t think of a reason why you would be angry, so I’m confused too. You gotta give me something here.”

He sat back on the bench and exhaled heavily. “No, I mean, I just thought, nevermind. Yeah, you’ve got a deal.”

“Great.” You shifted and looked at him expectantly, hoping he’d take the hint and teach you how to do the spell that’s been giving you grief since you read about it. McGonagall kept telling you it was “advanced” and you shouldn’t worry about it, but you’d show her.

Draco blinked a couple times. “What, now?”

“If you have the time, please.”

“Uh, alright.” He tossed the water from the pot onto the greenhouse’s floor and plunked it in front of you. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

You took a deep breath, pulled out you wand, and cleared your throat, then said, “Aguamenti.” There was a long pause while nothing came out of your wand. You knit your eyebrows together and tried again. “Aguamenti.” There was another long pause and heat crept swiftly into your cheeks. You shrugged and looked at Draco as if to say, “See?”

“Don’t be offended by this, but have you ever transfigured anything?”

“How could I possibly be offended by that,” you said in disbelief. The absolute audacity. Though you hated to admit it, there was some truth there as you thought back to last year and your inability to ever correctly transform a teapot into a tortoise. “Like I said. Pixie piss.”

“Maybe we should start with something simpler. What was the last thing you did that seemed easy?”

You grimaced. “The match to needle spell in first year.” He snorted rather derisively, his cold grey eyes rolling in his stupid head. You crossed your arms, indignation rising hot in your gut. You blurted out defensively, “At least I’m not just a lazy, entitled muppet-”

“Now, see here-”

“No! Why is my inadequacy any funnier than yours?” He stood up, still gripping his want tightly, eyes angry and flitting to and from the door. You held your hands up in surrender, “Look, I’m sorry. But this is never going to work if we take turns insulting each other’s intelligence - it’s just school, so it’s normal to need help, right? Though I stand by lazy, I think that’s accurate.”

He sat back down in a huff. “How so?”

“You could’ve passed the essay if you’d done any research to begin with - it’s clear you aren’t stupid, but asking Professor Sprout to curve your grade because of whoever your parents are instead of just doing the work is my definition of lazy.” He mumbled something under his breath. “What?”

He grumbled, “I sort of see your point.”

You grinned cheekily, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did. Now, are you going to teach me how to conjure water or not?”

He rolled up his sleeves and cited the transformation formula - bodyweight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and a fifth unknown variable - before gesturing to his own wand. “Hawthorn, unicorn hair. Sufficient wand power. What’s yours?”

“Oh, uh, chestnut, unicorn hair.”

He nodded, “Bodyweight and viciousness has nothing to do with you, so it must be the concentration component.”

You huffed, “Well that’s not helpful.”

“Would you just relax?”

“Sorry,” you grumbled.

“Transfiguration almost always works for me,” you rolled your eyes, “because, my theory anyway, I almost always believe it will. And I stay focused. So, instead of concentration, try confidence and focus.”

You squinted doubtfully; how could you possibly convince yourself that the spell which hadn’t worked would suddenly? Though, you had to admit it made some amount of sense. And Draco seemed to have some idea what he was talking about. The spell worked for him after all. A transfiguration spell. Wasn’t it just transfiguring air into water? Steam found its way and dissipated into the air all the time. Surely the things were related.

“Ok,” you said to yourself, “I’m ready.” You squared your shoulders and readjusted the grip on your wand. Draco nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Aguamenti.” You couldn’t believe your eyes. A healthy stream fell from the tip of your wand into the bucket. But then you looked up, excited, and it sputtered out.

Draco smiled smugly, “You lost focus. But better.” He stood up. “I think this will work. But if we can avoid it I’d rather not meet here every Saturday. I’ll find somewhere more secluded; I don’t want to have to explain what I’m doing in the greenhouses to every Hufflepuff pruning some vegetable.”

At first you were prepared to protest, but looking around, there were only going to be more people here on weekends as the term advanced - especially O.W.L. students. “Ok, some days we will need to be here, though. The conceptual lessons only go so far; Herbology is very hands-on. And I can’t imagine where would be a secluded place at Hogwarts on a Saturday that won’t be overrun with couples.” He waved a hand, “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

“Alright, let me know when you’ve figured it out then.” You stood up to gather your things.

Draco, at the door, turned around and asked, “By the way, I never asked - did you make the team?”

“What? Oh, Quidditch. No, I’m a substitute though.”

“Ah, too bad. You’re a decent flier.” He left you standing dumbfounded in the greenhouse, uncomfortable and flighty heat flooding your cheeks.

The next Saturday Draco found you leaving the great hall after breakfast. He had been lurking behind the beveled arch of a window, and you yelped when he materialized from the shadow. He shushed you and pulled you around under the arch with him.

“Are you insane?” you whispered, poking your head out, wondering if Yvette had seen. It looked like her early morning Quidditch practices were doing you a favor - she seemed totally unawares as she slumped away back to the common room.

“I’ve found a place,” in addition to his usual school bag, he was carrying two boxes - one wrapped like a package, the other with holes poked in the top - he continued more quietly, “Meet me on the Quidditch pitch, at the base of the Professors’ stand, in fifteen minutes.”

Before you could ask any questions, he hopped through the open window and strolled out onto the grounds. Despite your confusion, you did arrive on the Quidditch pitch and found his head poking out from under the checkered cloth covering the stands.

He waved at you hurriedly, “C’mon! Under here!”

You followed him under, asking, “Here? What if we get caught? We’ll get in so much trouble.”

“Nah,” he said, brushing off his trousers and pointing to the pin on his lapel, “We won’t - I am a prefect, after all.”

Under the stand, a fairly large if short space, very little light filtered through the cover and the bare ground was patchy and hard, not to mention freezing. The first rafter nearly brushed the top of Draco’s head. “Oh, ok…” you said, rubbing your arms and trying not to shiver.

Draco smirked and picked up the box wrapped like a package. “My mum sent this to me this morning.” Inside was a perfectly round stone, which he set on the ground in one of the corners. “This should do the trick. Lapis Ignis.” A faint light grew from within the stone, and the air was warmer immediately - the light became a tiny, crackling fire trapped behind a thin layer of the stone. “It’s a portable fireplace. I told her I’d been getting cold at night. Our common room’s under the lake, so.”

The tenseness in your shoulders relaxed with the warmth. You set down your bag on the ground thoughtfully. “This could work. Next time I may bring a picnic blanket though.”

“I was getting to that. I did say I’d take care of it, didn’t I?” He pulled a large green and black checkered quilt from his bag that looked far too nice to be putting on the ground, and tossed it into the air. You tilted your head to your right shoulder sharply. Draco didn’t miss a beat. He whipped out his wand and muttered something, and before the quilt started to fall it opened in ripples and settled itself neatly on the ground.

The borders on the quilt were all embroidered with little silver snakes.

“You really bleed Slytherin, don’t you?”

“It is the best house.”

You laughed, until you realized he was not at all joking. “Well, everyone thinks their house is the best house, don’t they?”

“They might think that. But, really, there’s no contest.”

Well, you disagreed there pretty strongly, but given he’d turned his attention to whatever else he brought with him, you decided there was no use in arguing. You rolled your eyes, “Anyway, do I wanna know what’s in that box?” You pointed to the one with holes poked into the lid.

“Right, this is for Transfiguration. I borrowed it from McGonagall this morning.” He opened the box and coaxed the thing inside out onto the blanket.

It was a hedgehog.

“Don’t worry, I’ll return it when we’re done here.” It’s cute little nose was working overtime, snuffling around on the quilt.

You knelt on the edge of the quilt across from him, careful to keep your shoes off of it. “Poor thing looks nervous. You didn’t bring any treats, did you?”

“Why would I have brought treats? We’re gonna turn it into a pin cushion, not invite it over for tea.”

“No need to get snippy,” you said, trying to rub a bit of your scent onto the quilt. Draco watched dubiously. Softly, to the hedgehog, you said, “No, no need to get snippy. You’re a cute tiny thing, aren’t you? Yes, of course.”

Draco cleared his throat.

“Right, sorry. We’ll start with Transfiguration, then?”

An hour later, you had succeeded in turning the hedgehog’s quills into pins, matches, and threads, but the hedgehog remained a hedgehog and never a pincushion. Draco’s brow had knit together furiously and he tried with growing fervor to explain the spell to no avail. Finally, he sat back on his heels and sighed, head thrown back.

“Well,” he said before a long pause, “it’s an improvement at least. Shall we move on to Herbology?”

“Oh thank heavens.” Your spine relaxed as you waved your wand and the hedgehog’s pins turned back into quills. “Professor Sprout tells me we’ll be getting to fanged geraniums soon; they’re not complicated but forgetting a step can get you bitten and that will scar no matter what Madam Pomfrey puts on it.”

Another hour passed, and you had taken off your shoes to sit cross-legged on the quilt, open book in your lap and happily napping hedgehog under a fold of your cloak. Draco had begun tapping his wand against his knee in frustration. “Remember,” you said, “they’re sentient beings. They really don’t want you to take their fangs - you have to reason with them.”

“How?” he said hotly, “How do I ‘reason’ with it?”

You shrugged. “A trade typically works. I’ve got one at home who likes acorns to decorate its pot. Or you could convince it that you need the fangs more than it does, like in Wandering with Werewolves.”

“This is absurd. I feel silly.”

You smirked, sensing a foothold. “And you’re going to let that stop you? I thought you wanted to be a… something?”

“I thought it could be fun to be a curse-breaker. For Gringotts.”

“Ah, and when you’re breaking curses all over the world, and you miss a trap because your tie gets crumpled and you need to make a blood-replenishing potion or you’ll bleed out, are you going to hesitate asking for a trade from the nearest fanged geranium? Or will you feel too silly?”

He paused. “You’re kind of an ass, you know?”

“Says the kettle. What do you do?”

But Draco never had the chance to answer, as the curtain began to lift. You shared a panicked look for a moment. A large eagle-owl came tramping into the space, feathers ruffled, carrying a letter on its leg. Draco held out his arm for the bird, “Here, Montague.” Montague settled himself on Draco’s shoulder and began preening, clearly affronted, and Draco plucked the letter from his leg. The parchment was gilded on the edge and sealed with inky black wax. His brow furrowed as he read. “I have to go,” he said, looking up quickly, “Now. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” you picked up the hedgehog to return him to his box. “I can return him to McGonagall for you, if it’s urgent.”

He nodded, “Same place next week?” He tapped the stone and the light went out, the chill creeping back into your bones at once. You stood up and helped him fold the quilt before he stuffed it back into his bag along with the stone.

You sat back down next to the hedgehog’s box to pull on your shoes. “Sure. But don’t think we’ve moved on from fanged geraniums.”

He laughed shallowly, silver hair falling limply on his forehead.

“C’mon Montague.” He lifted the curtain and stooped to climb out, then looked back rather regretfully. “Sorry, thanks, uh… bye.”

“Bye,” you said to the closed curtain. “Lumos,” you whispered, and your wand lit up so you could tie your shoes. That was strange, wasn’t it? You brushed some dirt off your jeans as you stood and picked up the hedgehog.

The week following crawled on agonizingly slowly, and, to make matters worse, the stairs seemed particularly driven to keep you from any and all destinations. It had put you in a rather sour mood. So sour, in fact, that when Professor Umbridge made an unexpected appearance in Arithmancy, and proceeded to interrupt Professor Vector every two minutes to ask her to repeat herself in “more general language,” after class you couldn’t help but complain about it the second she was out of earshot.

“It’s like she has no understanding of the subjects she’s evaluating,” you moaned to Luna, the both of you on your way to Charms. “She doesn’t even have a grasp on her own subject, I’d bet any number of galleons on it.”

She nodded thoughtfully, “It does seem that way. But I don’t think Fudge cares much about her being a competent teacher.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well she’s clearly meant to be a competent spy.”

“Hey - Luna. Oh, hi Y/N,” Ginny came hopping up from behind, swinging an arm through each of yours. “Where’re you off to?”

“Charms,” you grumbled.

Luna’s eyes sparked with her sly smile. “Professor Umbridge sat in on Arithmancy. We’ve been discussing-”

“We’ve been complaining, Luna, tell it how it is.”

“Well it’s funny you mention her,” Ginny started, lowering her tone as other students passed. “How do you feel about the current quality of your education?”

Luna replied, “Not good.”

You said, “Pixie piss.”

“And how would you feel about learning from a more practiced source?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Harry Potter.”

You let out a laugh, “Excuse me?”

Luna thought for a moment, her eyes glazing over, then said, “He should be a font of experience, theoretically. To survive He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named not once, but twice is quite a qualification.”

You felt Ginny’s gaze before you met it, her eyes searching and only a touch wary. You sighed, “Well I don’t know what happened last year but I don’t think he’s a murderer, or crazy. So I guess I believe him. What’s this about?”

Ginny, apparently satisfied, leaned in closer. “We’re having a meeting. This Saturday at the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. At noon. Just to talk things over.” She shrugged. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@yeolsbubbles

@ronslovergirl

@snickersmee

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #slow burn

45 notes · View notes

antaresgalaeth · 2 years ago

Text

Yearning for her (Sebastian Sallow x Hufflepuff OC) - Part 2

Notes: well, I suppose this is part 2 / ? 🤡

Warnings: Angsty, Spoilers from Hogwarts Legacy, jealousy, toxic behavior, light smut?, WiP✍🏻

Word count: 2138

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Luckily for Alessa, Professor Weasley had not yet arrived when she entered the classroom. Her breathing was labored, still feeling great discomfort from the encounter with the Gryffindor keeper, but also she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach from the support of her friend Ominis. After everything they had been through since they met, Ominis was the most noble person she had ever known. Something more than commendable considering his origins, she held him in great esteem for defending his values despite the immense familial pressure he faced regarding the Dark Arts and pureblood lineage.

Whilst Alessa made her way to her designated seat, her breathing began to slow down and her features relaxed, revealing a slight smile. As she sat down, she rested her hand on her cheek to watch Natty practicing a bird-conjuring charm. Natty's wand movements were hypnotic, and Alessa's mind wandered until she began to think about how Ominis used his wand to guide himself, and then linked that to what had just happened with him a few moments ago. "I hope Ominis didn't get the wrong impression when I kissed him, how embarrassing!" she reflected. She cupped her face with her hands. "Well, it was an innocent gesture of gratitude, wasn't it?" She tried to reason with herself to reduce her stress levels, while wiping the sweat from her palms on her robe.

Her inner monologue was interrupted when she saw Sebastian enter through the door. She felt happy for him as she saw that he had his precious notebook in his arms. She looked at him with a big smile and waved at him. The classroom was spacious, the center of the room was completely clear, and two rows of desks faced each other on each side. Sebastian sat on the opposite side from Alessa, going directly to his seat without even looking at her. Normally, he would come to her desk to chat until the Professor arrived, but he didn't do it this time. Alessa was quite surprised about that.

The class went on as usual, the same could not be said of Sebastian's attitude. Alessa was used to his knowing glances and jokes from a distance, but not today. Sebastian didn't even look at her or interact with her, not even by chance. "Has something happened to him?... Did I do something that bothered him?... Or did he receive news from Anne?" Alessa was mulling over that while tapping her right leg anxiously. She was more focused on Sebastian than on the Professor. She felt impatient, wanting to approach him as soon as the class was over to ask him about what had happened. Whatever it was, they would solve it. When Professor Weasley finished the lesson, Sebastian was already crossing the door. "Sebast-" was all she could say before he disappeared.

*********

The entrance to the Great Hall was crowded with students of all ages coming and going. First-year students could be heard screaming in amazement when they entered and saw the gigantic room decorated with Christmas ornaments and fake snow falling from the ceiling.

Ominis was standing next to the door, waiting for them with his usual calmness while listening to the reactions of the first years and chuckling to himself. "Hi, Ominis," sighed Alessa, touching his forearm for him to locate her better, trying to ignore the heat on her cheeks upon seeing him, something that hadn't happened until now. "Have you talked to Sebastian, is he already inside?" Ominis turned his body to face her. "No, we haven't run into each other," he furrowed his brow in confusion and continued, "I thought you guys would come together from Transfiguration class. Don't tell me he's got detention," he joked.

Ominis noticed a brief silence before Alessa explained about Peeves and how Sebastian had been acting unusually upon their arrival. "I don't know, it felt like he was avoiding me. Do you think he's upset that I didn't help him earlier?" He immediately shook his head, unconvinced by that conclusion. "Hmm. Clearly something had happened during the class exchange. But I don't think that's it, don't worry," he fiddled his fingers while trying to find an explanation. "I suspect that if something has upset him as much as you indicate, he has gone off to spend some time alone. You know how he is." Ominis raised his arm, seeking Alessa's shoulder to rest his hand and comfort her. "Yes, you're right," exhaled Alessa. "Don't worry, he'll surely tell us when he calms down," he assured her. "Shall we go for lunch?" Alessa felt a tingle when Ominis gently rubbed the hand he still had on her. "Yes, let's go," she said, briefly touching his back as they both headed inside the Great Hall, each sitting at their respective house tables.

*********

The hallways and halls of Hogwarts were bursting with energy at that time of day, and Sebastian was not in the mood to put up with anyone's nonsense. He had tunnel vision, a dry mouth and a tense jaw. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, and even though it was lunchtime, thinking about food made his stomach churn. The only place where he could truly calm down was in the complete solitude offered by the Undercroft.

The cold and damp atmosphere welcomed him. The dimness relieved him for a moment as he isolated himself from the stimuli of the outside world, regaining some peripheral vision. Nevertheless, thoughts of Alessa with Ominis were playing on a loop in his mind. He paced aimlessly, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head, trying to turn off his -extremely creative- imagination. When he looked towards one of the few walls that were clear, the image of Ominis facing Alessa against the wall came to his mind whilst he rubbed her body under her uniform and whispered to her in Parseltongue. Alessa moaned his name non-stop, arching her back to push her hips back, pressing into Ominis' sensitive areas. That's when Sebastian couldn't take it anymore, he pulled out his wand and, with a guttural shout, growled "CONFRINGO!"

He cast spell after spell aiming at the stacked barrels, the armor, and other objects across the room. They exploded until only debris and a cloud of dust remained. Sebastian's chest rose and fell rapidly until he cast the last Confringo. By then, his panting gradually calmed down until he returned to his normal breathing, finishing it with a big sigh. He walked to the wall where he leaned his back and let himself fall until his butt touched the ground. He rubbed his face and put his hands on his flexed knees, rotating the wand around itself while bouncing to the same rhythm as the repetitive movement of his right foot.

"Why does it have to be Ominis?" he said bitterly to himself. Among all the students at Hogwarts, he was the only person he could feel inferior to. He was elegant, disciplined, patient, always knew what to say to calm her down or make her laugh, and on top of that, they both shared an extremely rare ability. She was simply out of his reach, but that didn't stop him from wishing things were different. He looked up and saw the triptych hanging on the wall in the room, from when he helped her with her mission with the Keepers and the fight against Ranrok. A few seconds passed with a grateful silence in his mind until he heard Alessa's sweet and gentle voice in his head, like an echo "...I've had a sense about you since...".

Sebastian's foot froze in place and a slight smile began to form on his face. Realizing that perhaps it held a deeper meaning than he had realized up until that day. Those words, recovered from oblivion, gave him hope for a chance. Had their feelings been mutual all this time? Now everything made more sense, she could have abandoned him since the day he cast the Cruciatus curse on her in the Scriptorium, but she didn't. She endured his insults and much worse things. "No one who doesn't have feelings for the other person can tolerate that," he convinced himself.

"I'm sorry, Ominis, but she's mine," he said as he stood up. He dusted off his robe and ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing out the tangles and making himself look more presentable. Once he was tidier, he made a circular gesture with his wand in the air and said, "Reparo." Everything he had destroyed began to rebuild itself like a puzzle, returning each item to its original place as if nothing had happened. "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission," he muttered. He left the room in search of Alessa with determination, but angry at himself for being so stupid and letting so much time pass.

*********

If there was something that could evade Alessa and give her a moment of happiness, it was a good meal. Alessa sat next to her great friend, Poppy, that shy girl passionate about animals. Like most in Hufflepuff, they both closed their eyes to focus on all the smells of the food and let out a sound of delight. "Mmmm. The mashed potatoes look delicious today," said Alessa rubbing her hands together and began to serve herself. "If the Christmas dinner is better than this, we're going to roll all the way to the common room. Thank Merlin we're not in Ravenclaw," replied Poppy. The two friends laughed and bumped shoulders in a sign of camaraderie. Being with Poppy was like a breath of fresh air.

After they finished eating their lunch, Poppy accompanied Alessa to the Slytherin table, where Ominis was, to let him know they all would meet later at the Grand Staircase to go to Charms class together. In the meantime, they would go back to their common room to freshen up and get the necessary things. The Hufflepuff common room was quite close, as it was located under the Great Hall, right next to the kitchen. "I think I'm going to take Highwing for a walk this afternoon, if you don't mind," Poppy said, skipping along and lacing her fingers together as she asked Alessa. She chuckled and replied, "Of course, you know you don't have to ask me for permission to go to the vivarium. The Room knows perfectly well that you're welcome."

Poppy was humming as they went down the stairs leading to the cellars, despite the looks of some classmates that she seemed to completely ignore. Alessa enjoyed seeing her so happy, showing a big smile. When they passed the kitchen door and turned the corner, Alessa stilled abruptly for a moment. "Sebastian?" she whispered with concern, all the energy that Poppy had given her vanished. Between them and the giant barrel at the end of the hallway, which was the entrance to the Hufflepuff House, stood Sebastian standing in front of some dusty barrels stacked up. Far enough from the entrance to avoid the vinegar stream. His shoulders were tense and his hands restless, in one of them he held his pocket watch, which he was staring at, as if he had to do something against the clock.

Poppy took a couple of steps forward before realizing her friend's reaction. "Alessa, is everything okay?" she turned back to talk to her. Alessa shifted her attention to Poppy and relaxed her expression so as not to worry her. "Y-yes, Poppy, everything's fine. You go ahead, I'm going to talk to Sebastian for a moment." Poppy looked at Sebastian and then at Alessa, who was clenching her jaw. If there was one thing that Poppy was good at with animals, it was empathy and reading beings' energy. The energy of both screamed ‘leave us alone’, and so she did. She said goodbye to Alessa and nodded at Sebastian, who responded the same way.

Alessa approached Sebastian with uncertain steps as he put away his watch and looked at her intensely with his dark brown eyes. Alessa swallowed with difficulty; she had seen that look before, and it wasn't a good omen. "Has something happened, Sebastian?" she asked with a furrowed brow, stroking the edge of her nails with her thumb. He stood right in front of her, so close she could smell him, although it wasn't the scent she expected, "hearth?" she thought, dilating her nostrils, "Where did he go?. Did he burn something?. I hope he hasn't been fighting." Alessa's dilated eyes met Sebastian's. "We need to talk", he ordered seriously. He grabbed her firmly by the arm and turned her around to retrace her steps and climb the stairs again. Alessa pressed her lips together, with her heart beating rapidly in her chest and the feeling of not knowing what's going on.

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Thank you for reading! Open to feedback ^^

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LINK PART 1: https://www.tumblr.com/antaresgalaeth/712598432672612352/yearning-for-her-sebastian-sallow-x-oc?source=share

#hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x oc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt #hogwarts fanfiction #sebastian sallow x oc #poppy sweeting #huffelpuff #slytherin #sebastian x player

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arts-butthound · 2 years ago

Text

Letters to Ominis

Summary: The trio have graduated Hogwarts and life has set each of them to the wind on their own. However, Eudora and Ominis continue to write to each other after the summer...

Word count: 5k+

Tags: Ominis x F!Hufflepuff student, fluff, they like each other but don’t know that the other likes them back.

part 2

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September 27th, 1893

To Mr. Ominis Gaunt-Archivist Extraordinaire,

It has only been a few short months since we last saw each other and I have thought of you every moment I’ve had that was truly mine. I often think about the three of us in France together, taking in the sunset as the waves crash against the shore. Of your encouraging promises to write me-and I do expect you to keep your word.

Despite the valley still smelling of summer, the school year has started, as has my aid to Professor Howin. 1st years eagerly line up to pet the puffskeins, 2nd years attempt to hide pretty shinies from nifflers, and 3rd years are being promised that by mid term-they will have learned to approach hippogriffs. I’m sure Highwing and Nocturne will be on their best behavior when the time comes.

It’s only been a few weeks and the halls are alive again as they ever were. Our poor grounds keeper is already discretely drinking away his mourning for his freshly mopped floors. Despite all the life around me, the halls feel awfully empty without all my friends here. It is as if I still see you, Sebastian, and myself running through the halls or hiding from Peeves. I’m so very grateful for the two of you. You made what I feared would be a very lonely school life into something of I could have never expected. Imagine going from telling cattle your deepest darkest desires for all of fifteen years, to suddenly being thrust into the care of people so wildly enthusiastic for your company. If it weren’t for Poppy, in her last year, I should expire of lonely nostalgia in the absence of you all, you and Sebastian especially.

A second year Gryffindor seems to have formed an attachment to me. I think he may have some very weighty things on his young mind and I only hope to be a comfort to him.

I argue with the keeper’s portraits constantly. Apparently preserving the thought processes of hundreds of years ago has its drawbacks. In my staying to study the repository “again, for the third year” has me in the running to become the new Isidora, and a threat to their precious secrets. There are many times I begin to understand her frustration, though not her means. My theories are often shot down, and there are days where they keep me from the repository completely. I’ve begun to find Silencio to be a very handy spell to have on hand. Deek, the house elf, has very kindly continued in helping me try to uncover what exactly this magic is and why it is so dangerous.

I hope your training in the Ministry is going well and that they are treating you well. And that you’re eating enough...and sleeping enough, though that shouldn’t be so hard for you. I expect to hear of all the terribly wicked gossip that comes across your desk. Withholding what is too historically salacious, of course. Far be it from me to get you into trouble, for that has always been Sebastian’s chief delight.

I have written him but I suppose his studies keep him busy, for I have not heard word back from him yet. Professor Hecat appropriately caught me sulking about it and assured me that it is most common for an Unspeakable to be out of contact for periods of time. I hope Sebastian is well and taking care of himself. I fear his obsessive tendencies, even being that they are an aid in his new career.

Please write back to me soon, Ominis, for my world is darker for lack of your company,

Your friend,

Eudora

October 4th, 1893

To Miss Eudora Ferguson- animal care-taker extraordinaire,

I fear I have little to tell concerning salacious history, for I am too lowly to have such things cross my desk as of yet. In years to come, I shall remember to share all I can.

My work is straight forward enough and my days repeating. I wake up, I eat a small something, leave my rented room and spend all day as courier to officiate documents before they are filed away. I come home well after dark, eat another small something I picked up on the way home, and sleep. It isn’t much, but it is honest work. Without the influence of my family, it is wholly my own doing. Tossing around the Gaunt name does not hold as much water as it did with Professor Black, I’m at no loss to say. Honestly, if people learn of my family name, they have a tendency to become distant. I will show them, given time, that I am nothing like the rest of the House of Gaunt. Fret not, pet, for I care for myself as best as I am able.

For as much comfort as you were to Sebastian and I during our time at Hogwarts, I am sure you will be nothing but a heavenly reprieve for your new young friend. As for the portraits, I’m afraid I have no mind to give advice on such things. Those who made up their minds centuries ago aren’t likely to change their minds when only their portraits remain- for there is no mind to change anymore. Keep at it with your persistent determination and I’m sure you will make a discovery eventually. If silencio is your one comfort with them, then let it be so.

I have not heard from Sebastian myself, though the two of us perhaps don’t reach out with letters to each other such as you do. Try not to worry. I’m sure his head is firmly glued to his desk and surrounded by towers of books, if that is indeed how Unspeakables operate. I’m sure the loss of Anne last year has only kicked his obsessive tendencies into a higher power. He will come up for air eventually and we will hear from him. You and I are all the family he has left after all.

Take pride in your efforts but do try not to stretch yourself so thin. I’d hate to receive news that you’d caught fever again.

Yours affectionately,

O. G

October 13th 1893

My dearest Ominis,

You are right, I shouldn’t worry about Sebastian as I do. However, making sense of things rarely allows the heart to change and I will continue to worry about him, more than likely, until I hear from him.

I received the rare letter from my mother yesterday, voicing a great many concerns that I have heard time and again. It seems to vex her that I am still in contact with you and Sebastian without any understanding of marital intentions. She worries that my reputation will be forever sullied and that I shall be labeled as a loose woman that only rakes will seek out but never respect. To her, it was bad enough that we were friends when I had just come of age to be in society, “running around as a young boy with skinned knees and muddy clothes” as she said. But now she fears that I am to lose much more than my dignity on the subject now that I am a young woman of marrying age. She so rarely seems to be in contact just to lend her maternal warmth and good wishes it seems. It’s times like this where it is revealed how oppressive the muggle world can be, how closed off from even each other they are. It is almost the 20th century, yet still men and women cannot be simple friends without something sordid going on in the background. The wizarding world is very different in that way.

You and Sebastian have always been protectors of my dignity and image and have never once been uncouth towards me. No matter how often I tell her that, she refuses to believe it. I can never seem to find the words that would soothe her misgivings. I even told her when you headed off Garreth Weasley in fifth year for persuading me steal for him (though I left that part out.) How he couldn’t be in the same room with you for two weeks without watching your every move in terror. Nothing helps, I’m afraid. She’s says that she trusts me, but her every other action and fear would suggest otherwise.

Professor Onai and I both got a letter from Natty recently. She seems to be taking Auror training with all the brass she brings to any ambition of hers, though she does admit to soreness and an odd sense of paranoia. She did also mention that her trainers warned all their trainees about that. Professor Onai got that same crease in the middle of her brow that she gets whenever she’s worried, but a cup of hot tea and stories of the old days seemed to calm her.

A small brown cat seems to have taken a liking to me recently. He follows me around the school as a duckling might its mother, crying insistently until I pick him up. He’s quite the scarf and I have thus decided to name him as such. He has also learned where my living quarters are in the castle and will yowl at the door until I allow him in. He’s quite the talkative little man. He settles on the rug in front of the fire place and will join me in bed once I settle in. I must say, I’ve grown quite fond of him in this short time.

Opal the mooncalf gave birth again, this time to twins. Her husband seems quite pleased.

Are you excited for Halloween? I love it when the castle is cluttered with carved pumpkins and leaves fall, crunching pleasantly underfoot. I fondly recall you cursing each jack-o-lantern that dared to trip you in the halls. I spent the evening in Hogsmeade at The Three Broomsticks, crouched over a hot butterbeer, perhaps two days ago. I had come there with Poppy, but she seemed thusly entertained by a young musician and left me alone at the table. Miss Sirona and I could only eye each other with all too knowing grins. I’m sure it won’t be a lasting distraction, but it was good to see Poppy continue to work to connect with more people. Poppy and I walked home as fat snowflakes fell on top of us. I daresay that I was ready for another hot butterbeer by the time I got back to my chamber.

Do keep warm,

Eudora.

October 20th 1893

My dear Eudora,

Damned pumpkins. The Ministry building was flooded with them, too! As if the floor-ways weren’t crowded enough as is. You’ll be very entertained to read that I nearly twisted my ankle several times tripping over the wretched things, or toppled over them after being pushed into them. I shall be more than happy to see them disappear after Halloween.

Are you still insisting on referring to breeding pairs of animals as husband and wife? Truly, the sorting hat knew what it was doing by putting you into Hufflepuff. Your sentimentality knows no bounds. I don’t think mooncalves even mate for life, if given the chance. Opal and Stanley only stay that affectionate because they are the only breeding adults you seem fond enough of to keep. I can easily imagine you marrying your childhood toys together when it suited you. A precious imagining, indeed.

I’m sorry the letter from your mother wasn’t kinder. At least you know she worries out of love for you. It’s hard to understand how she ever married a wizard, with all her fretting of magic. But out of a strange union came you, so at least she did one careless, beautiful thing in her life. Let her not worry you about other’s perspective of you. Friendship between the sexes has been a long time occurrence in the wizarding world. I’m more than happy to say that I haven’t heard from any in my family since we graduated. I would have it no other way.

You’ll be comforted to know that an old clerk woman in my department seems to have taken a liking to me. She’s ancient and smells of mothballs. I’d dare say, when those odorous things came on the market, she filled every foot of her home with them. She’s even kindly placed a handful in my palm sometimes, when she’s feeling sentimental. Tells me I remind her of her son, and that he would always get holes in his suits from the little devils. Sometimes she sends me home with a portion of a homemade meal. She’s not a fantastic cook, but then neither am I, so I remain appreciative.

Thinking of you often,

O.G.

October 28th 1893,

Dearest Ominis,

‘One beautiful and careless thing in her life.’ I can’t tell if you’re trying to flatter my mother or me. Do be careful sir. A man could cause terrible things to stir within a woman, sounding as you do. The women of London would have no idea what would become of them, should you begin to skulk about their dance parlors. Secret dancer that you are, it is truly a shame you have no taste for conversation, or new company. Whether or not you talk to people, you’ll find that they find you handsome, if not intimidating…much like a certain Mr. Darcy that I know of.

Peeves seems to have set his sights on me. The other day, whilst I was doing my laundry, all my freshly cleaned undergarments had disappeared. A moment later, I could hear his howling laughter down the hall. They appeared two days later, hung amongst the bells in the bell tower. If you imagine my embarrassment at retrieving them, then you have only imagined a third of it. Professor Weasley found out at threatened to banish Peeves from the castle…to which he threatened to set the castle on fire. Again. To which Professor Weasley threatened to summon the Bloody Baron. Peeves conceded and sulked away. At least I got my underwear back, I suppose. I will have to be more watchful in the future, should I become a regular target of his.

I have learned a new great joy in life and it is challenging Professor Black as an equal rather than as a student. I caught him berating another ‘lesser’ student since last I wrote. The poor child had been being tormented by a pack of thoughtless pure-blood students, and Professor Black thought he could degrade this poor child further. I stood up to him, put my arm around the child, and told him that if he felt so important sticking his nose up at children, perhaps it would make him bigger still to use that same tilt at a adult able to match him. I decided to berate him back, in the most respectful manner of course. It took the wind clear out of his sails, and he scurried back to his dark little office. I don’t know how often I should use this against him, as I do recall his power over my station here at the school. But I also know my own cards that I can deal against him.

I’ve formed a theory on ancient magic recently, though I’ve yet to be anywhere close to proving it. It was ancient several hundred years ago. Perhaps what makes it ancient is that it is older than human magic? With the things I’ve been able to do with it, how I saw it used in the pensieves; much of it seems to have similarities with modern magic, but with an extra something. With Deek helping me…perhaps it’s just me over thinking., but what if this ancient magic, and what elves are able to do with their own magic are somehow related? How then some humans are able to see it, I haven’t the slightest. My theory is too new and may very well be totally wrong. The portraits are of no help and still cling to their fear of understanding what it is. I don’t understand how one of the keepers could see it, wield it for such powerful good, and yet be so averse to understand why or what it is. One needs to understand why a thing is dangerous, what about it must be avoided. We understand dark magic for a reason, why not the same for ancient magic? We praise and swear by Merlin, and more than likely, he would know what this magic is-or at least been keen to know.

That young Gryffindor boy continues to impress all his teachers, and infuriate them. He has quite an intellect and thirst for knowledge. I dare to say that he would rival even Sebastian’s own pursuits. He’s quite an angry young man, I must say, but there is grief in his anger too. To distract him from his thoughts, I’ve sent him on small hunts through the castle that-to my pride- sometimes take him a few days to find his goal. By the time he is a 6th year, I dare say he will have an unflappable mental map of the entire school. Professor Weasley has taken to kindness towards him as well and he rewards her with high marks in her class. I hope that Hogwarts brings some comfort to him as it did me.

How is your work going? Are you adjusting to London well? I pray that your mothball madam is keeping you well fed. You give me so few details on your life there that I feel I must prompt you.

Are you well?

Eudora.

November 5th 1893,

Eudora,

I can scarcely believe I allowed you to read that book to me and that I even remember as to what you’re referencing. If I remind you of that Mr. Darcy, I should consider that a mark against my character. He was a rather formidable foil to Elizabeth until he pulled his head from his ass, and I should pray that I am not near so needlessly difficult.

I have always praised your character. Flattery or no, it is the truth, for you are very careless.

I beg you not antagonize, nor impassion Professor Black. Spineless as he is, witless as he is, he is still a powerful man. Whether or not you think your victory in the recent goblin rebellion will give you a better standing in wizard society, pure-blood families will always have the power to quash that what threatens them! They always have and I don’t see that changing in the near future. I could not bear to know that you were one of those wonde Don’t make me live to see you disappear. Don’t ask me to bear that. Take caution.

If Peeves were tangible, I should strangle the lout for his lack of propriety and decorum. Making an acquaintance with the Bloody Baron should suffice to keep Peeves at bay. Peeves is terrified of the Baron. He’s not so terrible, once he allows you passed the persona; the man is prideful and hot tempered, but during my time in Slytherin house, I had a handful or two good conversations with him. If you are seen in his company, I’m sure Peeves will never pull such a stunt against you again!

Your theory has merit, though I don’t know how you could prove such a thing, or how well the rest of wizarding society would take it. Especially with ancient magic being such a closely kept secret. It is a shame that Sebastian is still missing from our company, for he would likely be of great help to you. Keep the thought in your pocket, perhaps strings of it will lead you elsewhere.

As for life in London…my dear, you crave the words of a novelist I fear, for which I am not. The streets are crowded and I’ve had to take to being rather cunning on how I use my wand to navigate. The air is more dense and unpleasant to anything I have ever before breathed. While crossing a road, a carriage nearly ran me over two weeks passed. Were it not for a kind civilian, I would have been trampled. The carriage owner and driver were never identified, to my knowledge. It is quite loud. I sit here struggling of what else there is to say. It is fairly monotonous, my work is not exciting. But it is simple and it is earned and I work every day to shed my coworkers preconceptions of my family name. Those who know of the Gaunts have whispered to those who previously did not.

You were always the adventurer, Eudora, and will no doubt collect more stories in your life than I will. I feel I have had more than my fair share as it is.

Adventure safely,

O.G.

PS: Don’t phrase it as mothball madam, I beg of you. The implications are horrendous.

November 18th 1893,

Truly, Ominis

If you believe Mr. Darcy needlessly difficult, you did not understand him or his world view. Irritating, or painful though his actions were to Elizabeth, they were meant as a kindness to those he cherished. Damn the rest of the world. I believe I recall you damning the rest of the school to help Sebastian and me out of our blunders…if only to chide us yourself later.

You could have told me about the carriage incident weeks ago, you realize? Who would have informed me if something happened to you, especially with you so nonplussed to speak about your life there? Do you tell anyone of Sebastian or me so that we can help, or worse- be notified, if something happens? Especially with your wand hidden as it must be, I can’t imagine that makes navigating any easier. I’m very glad you weren’t hurt. I should be torn asunder were something to happen that took you away from me, Ominis. You are important in my life and I would see it that you never be parted from me it.

You have such a way with words. I feel as if I know London intimately thanks to your description, truly! Should I ever visit the city on my own, I know I shall be familiar with all your favorite haunts. At least I know to pack perfumed handkerchiefs as a precautionary measure.

The winter holidays are fast upon us and I can scarcely believe it. Before I notice it, a new year will be upon us. Students are beginning to make holiday plans, whether they are staying at the castle or going home to their families. It’s a little early, but still students titter. I suppose I’ll be expected to go home to mother. I can leave Scarf and the other animals in Deek’s gentle care. Mother will be wanting to bring me to winter community dances and introduce me to fine and well established farm hands in efforts to begin to find me a suitable husband. Of course, he will be a muggle. Either she fails to realize that his being introduced to my being a witch will be imperative, or she is still trying to close me off from my father’s inheritance. The only reason I’d want to go home is to steal away with my favorite cow and come back to Hogwarts, which is now more of a home than my mother’s farm, and I do miss Kilt the cow a great deal. Of my two choices, staying at the castle comes easiest, though not most preferred. I’m told that Natsai will be coming to the castle for the holidays to visit with her mother, so I suppose I won’t totally be without company (as Poppy plans to go home to her grandmother.) I had thought, at the beginning of the school year, that you, Sebastian, and I might reunite for the holidays. But that doesn’t seem likely.

I also had hopes that one of us would have heard from Sebastian by now and I am sore for his company. I continue to send letters to him but they remain un-responded to. Whatever research and training he’s doing better be well worth the chiding he will get when he does finally appear! In the dark of night, when I think of it, my mind gives such sharp pains to the thought of losing contact with him permanently. Where could he be, do you think, that should keep him from us this long? Four months is such a dreadfully long time. I have tried to persuade Professor Hecate to tell me something of the work of an unspeakable, that way I might understand what stops him from writing. She is a wall as she ever was.

I hope you’re keeping warm as it gets colder at night. Scarf is growing into quite a large cat and has been enjoying a whole side of the bed to himself…of course, that is until I settle down into the covers and he climbs on top of me to sleep, tucking his face under my chin as he does. He’s very warm.

I still go to the undercroft sometimes, when I’m feeling lonely. I miss dearly our late night talks there, or when you and Sebastian were kind enough to let me share my favorite books with you. Always after curfew or Sebastian would set to complaining. It still smells musty and sometimes I think I smell you. Perhaps I am overly nostalgic. Perhaps that, due to my late arrival to the school, I wasn’t quite ready to leave when everyone else was. A part of me still feels that we should all be here. But I think I just miss you.

Goodness me, would you listen to the sap I’ve devolved into! This is probably why I shouldn’t write to you late at night, when all my thoughts go to wondering without supervision. I do apologize sincerely. I seem to have taken my self-reflection out on you. Perhaps I won’t send this letter and rewrite it tomorrow when I have my senses returned to me. If I do send this to you, please don’t think ill of me. I’m sure my next letter will be much less…whatever this was, and I will return to telling you of witty adventures and theories.

Have patience with me,

Eudora.

December 2nd, 1893

My most sincere Eudora,

Blasted bird. I apologize for the lateness of my letter, it would seem the owl became either horribly turned around or forgot where it was supposed to go. I only just received you letter this evening as I was walking home from work.

Please think nothing of your wondering mind, for it does not offend me. In fact I must thank you for sending your last letter unaltered. Your heart was always truthful and holding back your thoughts did only make you ill of soul and body, if I recall. If you feel lonely, tell me so. Should you feel joyous, allow me to share it. If your righteous anger burns, tell me to whom I should hurl my vitriol towards. You need never fear honesty between the two of us.

Should it please you to hear it, I also miss our reading hours in the undercroft, whether your choice of book was terribly romantic or deviously adventurous. I come back to my room and it is quiet and without the familial warmth I found in Sebastian, Anne, and even you. You had such a way of reading that one felt they were truly in the story. For what it is worth, I am glad that the undercroft remains a comfort to you. I do not know how long it will be left empty once you have quit Hogwarts for good. Of course, there will always be new members of the Gaunt family to fill it, but I regret that it may never be the safe haven we knew it as again.

I too regret that you did not join Hogwarts sooner, for it robbed us all of time with each other. I can picture all three of us who were of Slytherin house cherishing and caring for our lone Hufflepuff. Had you been able to know Anne, you would have loved her as Sebastian and I did, (I seem to find myself mournfully nostalgic as well, these days.) I do so hate the thought of you being such a lonely little girl, for it strikes a familiar cord in me that was a lonely little boy and I would wish that on no one. Should we have all been together longer, there would have been many more memories for you to hold during the summers back home-though, I imagine that the Figs may have tried to wrestle you into their care at some point or another, with how fond the professor was of you. I like to imagine you would not have felt the need to carry an entire goblin rebellion solely upon yourself, had you more connections to rest back upon. Perhaps it’s just the time of year, my dear, that makes us think of our time passed or stolen.

Perhaps it is impertinent to suggest this, even selfish of me, but it does occur to me nonetheless. Should you want to leave the confines of Hogwarts and its valley, yet not go home to your mother, you are free to come to me. I have only the single room with little furnishings, but you are welcome to all I have. I should be glad of your warm company and perhaps a visit would chase the melancholy from both of us. Of course, I realize you are also close with Miss Onai, and should you prefer to stay in her company this season-it would gladden me greatly to know you are comforted in her friendship.

You shall always have my patience without asking for it. No matter what you could possibly do, I shall always think of you kindly. Your name is a bell hung in my soul; should you but ring, I would

Your friend, always,

O.G

December 10th 1893

Ominis,

My coming to see you is a brilliant idea and I’m glad you thought of it. I will buy my tickets. I will see you on the twenty second and I will stay with you through new years . Let the two of us chase away each others sorrows, as to start fresh in the new year! There are things about this season that cause me to think of things I’d rather not-and you have always been wonderfully distracting.

Don’t blame the owl too harshly. I can’t imagine flying in December is always easy for them.

Yours eagerly,

Eudora.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis guant #ominis gaunt x mc #pining #idiots in love #eudora ferguson #ominis gaunt fanfiction #sebastian sallow #butthound writes #ominis x oc

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theodoradevlin · 2 years ago

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Bad Habits | Sebastian Sallow

TW: Sexual Themes

Summary:

Shameless Sebastian Sallow x Original Character Smutty one shot. Don't know what it is about this boy that has us constantly dreaming of exploring the restricted section.

Timeline is sometime after the crucio quest.

Characters Aged 18+

Theo Devlin pulled up at her stockings. The confounded things were so damn uncomfortable.

While britches were usually much more useful in terms of carrying all the potions, and plants and weapons she needed...now she might as well actually wear her school uniform in the hopes that there would be no threats waiting for her tonight. But, she was coming to learn, that was always a gamble at Hogwarts. She had to wear the stupid thing all day..even during potions class where had had received such odd looks from Sebastian.

She eyed herself in the mirror, grimacing at the way the skirt was absolutely too impractical for the things she was usually involved in... But, tonight, for this quick trip to the library...it would have to do.

Tonight, her mind had been a cyclone of whirling thoughts - so badly tangled that any hope of sleep had become impossible.

The night before...she had surprised herself. Flashes of her and Sebastian and Ominous came back to her then. The desperation in Sebastian's eyes. The concern in Ominous's.

The way Sebastian's face had crumpled after she had forced him to cast Crucio on her.

It was still a shock that it was a spell she even knew herself now. Would she ever use it? Knowing how that pain had coursed through her? She was nothing but a creature of necessity, she consented, so only time would tell.

But...that was a problem for tomorrow.

Maybe tonight, she could find more information on the ancient magic...on the Keepers...on anything to distract her from the path that she was inevitably stumbling down.

Her breath shook as she pushed open the barreled door of the Hufflepuff common room, making her way through the castle. The silence and the night air cleared her head, if just for a moment.

She knew curfew was a loosely enforced concept at Hogwarts, and the amount of time she spent running around the school after hours was so much larger vs. sanctioned hours, it was comical. So, naturally, curfew was not something she was worried about as she threw herself out of the Hufflepuff common room and marched towards the library.

As much as she couldn't deny that deep down in her soul, her first reaction to others had always been kindness, selflessness, loyalty.... in the recent weeks the amount of determination and recklessness...and frankly ruthlessness...that had worked it's way into her decisions had become just as natural as the first set of attributes that she had arrived here with. She felt more like a mix of many things vs. her fellow Hufflepuff's who lived and breathed the house attributes.

Who knows. Maybe it was the current company she had found herself drawn to since her tumultuous arrival here. Her mind flashed to Sebastian and his lingering glances...before quickly putting it out of her mind.

But...maybe having such company hadn't been a total a bad thing.

She continued down the shifting staircases, lit by nothing but the flames of torches against the cavernous and ever changing floors and walls...that and the moon shining down, always seeming to bathe these halls in an ethereal light.

As she neared the library doors, she went ahead and cast the Disillusionment charm over herself... also cursing herself for how often she had found herself back here doing the same thing.

She held her breath as she entered the library, always comforted by the smell of the ancient pages that lined the walls. Tonight...she must have found herself lucky. Neither the librarian, nor Peeves, was anywhere to be seen.

Maybe it truly was that late. She smiled to herself as she removed the charm from her form, almost skipping to the section that she hoped would hold more history of the school's founders.

All was going so well for once. Too well. She should have known.

"Lumos"

She whispered, as her finger passed along the spines of each book, focused on finding the correct one...and not focused on the concealed figure that had snuck up behind her.

"Boo".

She yelped at the voice that brushed against her ear, falling backwards into the air but finding a solid form there that had grabbed and steadied her.

"What...!"

Then laughter. Familiar laughter.

"Merlin's Beard, Devlin. I've never heard such exclamations come out of that mouth."

Sebastian erupted in laughter, removing his own disillusionment charm, much to Theo's dismay.

Her face twisted in a frown at his amusement.

"Sebastian- what exactly are you doing here?" She whisper shouted at him.

"I could ask you the same thing Devlin...seems great minds think alike. You know I am constantly digging into books I'm shocked you're surpised."

His cocky grin turned sheepish, if just for a moment.

"After...after last night..." He cleared his throat and tried again, "I wanted to see if I could help you find any more information about your magic. To help Anne...and ...and you."

She raised her eyebrows. She knew they had both cared about helping Anne from the start. But this was the first he had ever mentioned of her specifically.

Again, her eyes flashed to the look in his face after he had cast that curse on her.

But...it was Sebastian after all. How much could she trust.

"That's...well, that's surprising for you." A small flush worked it's way across her cheeks.

His eyes regarded her even more closely then. As if the spread of color across her cheeks had sparked something entirely different in him. She was, at once, entirely too aware how alone they were in this library. She had never seen him look at her that way.

Then again...she had never trusted anyone enough to let them cast something like that on her, either.

"Seems we both keep surprising each other lately." He murmured.

Yes..

Her mind whispered, but she couldn't find the words to respond.

She didn't need to. Their eyes met, across the narrow row of books, saying much more than words could in this present moment.

He eyed her again, smirking at the way she had looked around the library they had found themselves in, realizing the last time they were here at the same moment he did.

The edge of his mouth curved into a cocky smile.

"Bringing back fond memories, Devlin?"

She inhaled.

He was devastating.

Even after all this time.

He noted that sharp intake of breath, like he noted everything around him. Always so damn observant.

His head inclined towards her, backing her up closer to the book ladder that rattled at her sudden movement away from him.

He smirked again.

"You know...I do recall getting into some rather...naughty...antics here before."

Damn him.

She cursed the way he made the blush creep deeper, darker, and further up her neck.

He eyed her hungrily as he approached closer, so close that if she inhaled too deeply she could feel the brush of his chest.

His eyes were half lidded as the peered down at her. She had forgotten he was taller than her.

"You're always so delicious when you blush." He murmured, as the heat was on the verge of overtaking her completely.

Despite the blush, she stubbornly held that gaze. That boy who had such an influence on her since she got here...yet was always the first to put himself on the line.

For a moment there was nothing but breath. She didn't back away from him. She had nowhere to go. This moment had been coming for some time now. Neither of them could have escaped it forever.

"Sebastian..."

His name slipped from her mouth like a plea.

It was all it took.

He pushed her up against the book ladder, hoisting her by her thighs so quickly that she gasped.

Once he had settled her where he wanted her, those hands that had grasped her started to trail slowly to the front of her...alongside the inside of her thighs.

Her back arched as he slowly, playfully, spread her knees wider.

But then he stopped completely, hovering in between her, looking up at her quizzically.

"Theo...we haven't been able to avoid each other since day one. But...if I'm mistaken..."

For a moment...she saw it again, that broken piece inside of him. The one that constantly had been told that love for him was not possible.

She didn't know if this was love...but she knew she couldn't stand that look on his face.

She simply grabbed him by the collar, prying open his lips with her own, feeling the snake of his tongue suddenly envelop her, the way his hands were suddenly and frantically all over her.

She moaned into his mouth. His breath quickened into that gasp as if it was the most surprising thing he had ever heard.

His hands moved further and further up her thighs. Her heart beat was hammering....if he went any further.

"Sebastian!" She gasped, pulling away suddenly, trying to scold him...yet the sound of it only seemed to encourage him more.

He grinned devilishly.

"I love when you say my name like that." The side of his mouth twisted into a satisfied grin as his fingers worked higher and higher, his mouth leaning into her throat as he began to use that cruel mouth to leave grazing kisses and....teeth.

Gods.

If he went one inch further he would know the truth. The truth that her traitorous body was so obviously wet and wanting..waiting for those hands to keep touching her.

His deft fingers slipped under that already soaked fabric under her skirt, firmly and confidently finding their target right away.

She signed as his fingers pressed into her, gently and impatiently all at once. As her head titled back further, her pressed further against her, in tandem.

"That's it.." he groaned, sighing in such satisfaction of the feel of her that she pressed further into the hand that was working on her...cursing herself for the low whimper that had found it's way out of her body.

The sound sparked a crazed look into his eye. His fingers pumped harder. Her breaths became louder. She suddenly, frantically began reaching for what laid below his belt.

"Mmmm." He angled himself just out of her reach, as she made a sound of protest. "Patience darling...I plan on taking my time with you."

He continued to move those damn fingers within her, she felt herself grow even wetter as his breath fanned against her ear, "In fact...while I do so love following you around in those delightful britches you're usually running around in...I have to say this skirt has been torturing me all day."

His eyes went molten as his fingers rubbed low and agonizing circles against her core.

"...I've been imaging getting underneath this all day....and I had to be very very patient."

It was too much. His touch. His words. She squirmed against him.

"Sebastian. Please." She was near moaning his name now. If he didn't put her out of her misery soon she was going to burst.

Her breath quickened as he realized it, hunger sparking further into his eyes at the sight of her being so close.

That's it. He was torturing her. Again.

Defiantly, she took her hand grabbing at the button down she wore and wrenching it apart button by button until she was exposed with no clothing remaining besides the tie around her neck.

Her breast's spilled out into the night air, peaking at being so damn exposed and at the Sebastian's startled and glazed look.

He moved closer to cover her, despite the fact that they were alone. The view was incredible, but for his eyes only. Like his namesake, he had found himself growing extremely possessive of those he treasured. And now he was surprised to find that it included her as well.

She watched as his throat bobbed slowly as he swallowed at the sight of her.

She smirked this time.

"Are you getting shy on me now, Sallow?"

She reached up and grabbed the free hand he had leaning against the bookcase above her, and slowly traced his fingertips across her nipple.

At that slightest touch, she felt as he hardened impossibly more so between her legs.

"Ah.." He murmed as she arched into his palm, allowing him to get a full hand full of her.

He groaned. Her breasts..the fullness of them and the way she peaked at his touch was almost too much. It undid him.

"Devlin..." He ground out, "You are pure evil."

She grinned ruefully.

"Seems like we're more alike than you thought."

His mouth immediately claimed her. Opening against her own, his tongue sought her out, needing to taste and taste her.

Yes. They were more alike than he thought. In some ways he hated himself for it. For the influence he had on her. He knew she was too good for him, but he was also so fucking thankful it was her melting under him. His match. No one did the things to him that she did. No one understood in the way she had. No one could make him hope to be better, like she did.

It made him move more furiously against her as he moaned into her. mouth, twisting and flicking at her taught and supple skin.

Her shirt was no completely shrugged off, and her skirt completely around her waist. He marveled at the sight of her.

Momentarily, her voice brought him back to consciousness again.

"Sebastian..ah..ah..." His eyes hungrily watched her moan his name in between his devouring kisses.

But it wasn't enough to watch her cum. He needed to taste her on his mouth.

He broke away suddenly, relishing her whimpers of protest as he rushed to kneel in front of her.

She wasn't prepared for the way his hands rode her skirt all the way up her hips, exposing her completely to him.

She wasn't prepared for the devilish look he passed up at her before his head so purposefully slipped between m her legs. Or the sensation she felt as his fingers tore apart the small piece of fabric completely to quickly be replaced by the press of his tongue against the wetness of her core that was all there for him. He moaned into her, and she swore she felt it in her hip bones.

She gasped, arching her back at the way he was devouring her. Grabbing for something to hold on to, but doing nothing but knocking those damn books off the shelf. She didn't care. He didn't care.

His tongue pressed upwards into her at a quickened pace, sucking, flicking, as his hand worked to grasp her back side and give him even more access to her. She was a delicacy he couldn't get enough of.

"Seb...bastian...Ah...Oh My god..oh my god..my go-"

His hand reached up to place a palm over her mouth to quiet her, and just as he did she screamed his name into his hand as she came for him, her legs trembling with the force of it alongside his shoulders.

"Mmmm" His exclamation surprised her, but she also didn't know if it was shock in general for what he had just done to her.

He stood up, his already messy hair completely askew from her attempts to try and hold on for dear life...and a cocky smile plastered on his face.

"You bastard." She breathed. Barely able to form the words.

He chuckled, completely pleased with himself, but she wasn't done with him.

Using his momentary distraction, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back towards her for more. She didn't care that he had the taste of her all over him, and for some reason that turned him on more....to have more of her...to be completely enveloped by her.

Suddenly, she started undoing his belt buckle.

His eyes widened.

"Dangerous, Devlin..." He warned as his heart hammered faster as she pushed aside his boxers, working him right of out his pants and taking him into her hands.

He hissed. She was so damned good.

She smiled in satisfaction at that.

"I'm always in danger with you, Sallow."

He couldn't deny her that. He couldn't deny her anything.

The next thing he knew, her legs were wrapped around him with his member prodding and pressing against the slickness of her entrance.

It was almost enough to make his eyes roll in the back of his head and, he pondered, it was also possibly the sweetest form of Crucio to ever exist.

His eyes looked up at her questioning.

"I ...I don't know how well I'll be able to control myself." He admitted, "..We may get caught." He breathed against her mouth.

Even though he said it, he'd rather avadakedavra himself than ever stop.

The look in her eyes told him the same thing.

"Hasn't stopped us before." She mimicked his line back to him, breathing it into his mouth.

That was it.

He pushed into her with one full thrust, so hard that the books behind her began to fall off the shelf. She could hardly notice anything else besides the feel of him inside her. She hated to admit what she had somehow already known. He fit her perfectly.

His eyes darted in worry as he looked up at her. "Are you okay?" The breath rushed out of him as he used every ounce of control to keep himself from completely loosing himself inside of her.

She was just as delicious as he'd imagined.

Her heavy lidded eyes still were able to level a stare at him.

"Don't stop. If you stop I'll kill you." She gasped, and he obliged.

She felt so sweet around him. He groaned into her neck as he let himself bury himself inside of her...loosing himself in the way she contracted around him, her legs tightening with each thrust to bring him deeper into her.

They rocked and rocked against the shelves as he left trails of kisses down her neck, across her breaths, every inch of her he could manage.

"This is already going to kill me Devlin." He gasped a she held on to him.

"You're. Too. Fucking. Delicious."

He enunciated each word with particularly powerful thrusts as she let herself fall under the wave of them.

But it was too much. The tremble of her breasts against him, the way her hands wrapped themselves in his hair. Her gasping moans against his ear. He was going to lose himself inside of her.

"Sebastian...You're making me...I'm going to...ah..."

"Yes" He breathed back. "That's it. That's it.."

Her cry into him rang against his core, and he grunted with one final thrust into her, clutching her with all he had left until he felt himself fully and completely release inside of her.

Their bodies tangled in the aftermath as they just held on to the moment, gasping and beholding each other and all that had just happened.

He worked his way slightly out of her shoulder that he had buried his head into, taking her in for that moment.

Her flushed skin...that blush he loved. The way her auburn hair stuck to her delicate face with slight perspiration.

"You're lovely." He murmured as she gave him a hazy smile.

"You and libraries are becoming a bad habit." She responded.

"Good." He growled, liking the sound of it.

Habits meant that he was someone she might want to keep around. Habits meant that maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to be alone anymore.

His chest tightened. It also meant if he dared to hope to keep her, it would be only that much worse if he lost her too.

As they dressed, he watched the way she blushed. Try to commit it to memory.

Try to let himself hope.

#hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc

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kitchen-coven · 10 months ago

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Tag Game Time~!

Shuffle your on repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag ten people.

Thank you so much @klarinette49 for the tag!! It's quite a jarring listen, so heads up if you wanna listen to anything~

Oh No! By Marina

Spirits by Nothing More (character theme in our DnD campaign)

A Good Song Never Dies by Saint Motel

What's Golden by Jurassic 5

Little L by Jamiroquai

Electric Love by BØRNS

Push It by Static X

Girl by Jukebox the Ghost

Pink from Barbie by Lizzo

The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley (an original character's theme)

I don't know a whole lot of people, but have fun if you guys want!

@hopeful-hufflepuff-peeves @decadentpaperduck @lethesbeastie @string-cheese-cake

#tag game #draven musings

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endeavour12345fics · 1 year ago

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The Aftermath, chapter 23

A few days after Christmas, Philip and Elisabeth met up near the Hufflepuff common room. As they were walking through the empty halls, they noticed that a classroom door was open. Philip entered the room first, wand ready for anything. Elisabeth followed him.

At first, they couldn’t se anything in the darkness. Then they noticed a strange reflection and approached it.

They lit up their wands, looking at the reflection. It was an enormous mirror, with an inscription carved at the top of its wooden frame.

“Can you read it? It seems strange, yet somewhat recognisable.” Elisabeth’s eyes were focused on it.

Philip looked at it, and it immediately made sense. “I show not your face but your heart’s desire.” he read, trying not to laugh at his friend’s baffled expression.

"How were you able to read it that fast? That's orientated from right to left."

"Perks of being left-handed." Philip answered with a smile.

Elisabeth didn’t reply. Instead, she looked like she’d seen a ghost for the first time.

“Elisabeth? What can you see?”

She didn’t look at him but grabbed his arm.

“I see my parents. Together and happy like… before what happened to my mother.”

“Did she die?” Philip asked, unable to stop himself. Elisabeth didn’t seem shocked by the question, so he hoped he hadn’t gone too far and ruined their friendship.

“Oh, no. She’s alive, but she’s in an asylum. I don’t want to say she’s mad, but she has… some issues.”

“I see. I’m sorry for asking, I should think before I speak.”

“It’s fine, really. I wasn’t expecting the question, it’s just that.”

He looked at the mirror and couldn’t prevent the lump that formed in his throat. Eleazar and Miriam were looking back at him, smiling and happy. He wished it was true, that they were still by his side, and not mere reflections of what he wanted the most.

“Philip?”

He could hear Elisabeth’s voice, but it was dimmed, as if she was far away. When she touched his arm, it broke the trance-like state he was in, and he turned to her, his eyes full of tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“What did you see?”

He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He let himself slid to the floor and stayed there, hugging his knees. She sat with him, his hand on his shoulder, as the dam broke, and tears flowed.

“I saw Professor Fig and his wife, Miriam. I don’t remember if I ever told you, or if you heard it from someone else, but they took me in when I was younger. Last year, Professor Fig was finally able to adopt me. That’s one of the reasons why we were so close.”

“I’m so sorry.” She said, hugging him. He retributed the hug, and they stayed like that for what seemed like several minutes.

As they got up, Philip heard a noise from outside the room. “Let’s go. If it’s Peeves, we’re screwed.”

They waited to check if anyone was approaching, then parted ways, going in opposite directions.

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

Philip went to look for Sharp, to tell him what he’d seen. As he climbed up the stairs in the faculty tower, he saw Sharp entering his rooms.

“Professor! Something happened, I thought you should know.”

Sharp turned to look at him. “What happened? Come in, and we’ll talk.”

He allowed Philip to enter the room, closing the door behind them. The fire was already lit, warming up the room.

They sat down, Sharp giving Philip an inquisitive look.

“So... what happened?”

Philip told him as best as he could. How Elisabeth and he had seen the open door and decided to check the apparently empty, abandoned room. How they’d seen the mirror. When he mentioned the inscription, he could see that Sharp was thinking, but he said nothing.

Then came the hardest part: telling Sharp what he’d seen in the mirror. As he spoke, having to stop sometimes to catch his breath, Sharp nodded in an understanding manner, as if he was expecting it. As if he knew what Philip would have seen.

As Philip finished speaking, Sharp picked up his cane and got up from his armchair. Damn cold weather, he thought. As if it usually the pain wasn’t bad. “Would you like to show me the mirror?”

They left the room, with Philip leading the way. As they approached the classroom, Philip stopped next to the door. “If you want to, I’ll stay here, to give you some privacy.”

“You’re welcome to enter with me. In fact, having someone else in the room may make it easier.”

They entered together, and Sharp examined the mirror. He took his time reading the inscription, before looking at the reflective surface. Philip was a few steps to the side, unable to see it.

Sharp made a strangled sound, as if he was trying to repress tears. Philip walked to his side to try and comfort him, and then he saw it.

A younger Sharp, looking healthy, and another young person he could not recognise. By the badges on their lapels, Philip understood they were Sharp’s auror partner. The two of them seemed close, making what Philip knew about the incident almost unbearable to think about.

“Professor?” Philip asked, hoping Sharp could hear him. “Were they your partner?”

“Yes, this was William, my partner in my auror years. You already know what happened to him, and how I came to teach at Hogwarts.” His voice seemed devoid of emotion, as if he was trying his hardest to keep it together.

“Come, it’s getting late, and I still have some lesson plans to finish.”

Philip went to his common room, and Sharp went back to his quarters. He had work to do, but he couldn’t focus. The emotions he’d felt while looking at the mirror resurged, making him collapse into his armchair.

“I’m sorry, William.” he said, his voice inaudible among his sobs. “I should have known something was up, in that Scarborough dock. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

He allowed himself to cry, until he felt that he had run out of tears. Then he poured himself a firewhisky and picked up his lesson plans. He knew burying himself in work to force emotional numbness was a bad habit, but he wouldn’t break it anytime soon.

#hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp

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hughiecampbelle · 2 years ago

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My loves!!!! Have I mentioned how much I love you? Because I do with my whole entire heart!!! You constantly show me endless amounts of love, and support, and kindness, and I am so undeserving!!! I want to show you how much you mean to me and how much you’re appreciated, and I thought a fun way to do that would be with ships!!! Info and rules down below :) I hope you like it my loves and that you’re as excited as I am!!! Thank you for following my loves, thank you for being so supportive and amazing!!! Ilysm!!!! Xoxoxo💜💜💜💜💜💜

Rules:

Only one ship per person - Because these are gonna be detailed, I wanna make sure it’s fair for everyone and that I have time for everyone :)

These ships are only for the succession fandom! - It's what I feel inspire to write right now, so any other fandom will not be written for with these ships! You don't have to specific if you want a succession ship, I will just assume :)

((SHIPS WILL BE OPEN FROM May 6th to May 10th!)) Anything sent after will be deleted unless specified otherwise!

What To Include:

The most important thing would be to include what gender/s you’d want to be shipped with :) You can also include physical appearance, personality, age, type of people you typically like/date, favorite things about yourself, maybe some insecurities, interests, hobbies, favorite books, movies, bands, animals, harry potter house, favorite places, dream jobs/homes/lifestyle/future, pet peeves, fears, anyone you look up to or idolize, weird things or facts about you. Basically anything that you find unique to you! I don’t want to make these sound repetitive, so the more unique to you, the better!!!! :D

What Comes With The Ship:

That'll be a surprise! I really want to make these unique so I'm trying something different than I did last time. I think it'll be different than typical ships but I don't want to spoil anything!!!

I've done this twice before under the #johnnyshellby-ships and #jammesbarnnes-ships (my old url) so I'm gonna tag this #kaitbishop-ships in case you'd want to block it :)

If anyone wants to add a ship for ya gurl that would be really cool, but of course not necessary! Here is some info about me: I’m Enna (she/her) I’m 22, and I’m a Hufflepuff! Asexual + bisexual! I love writing, reading, swimming, painting, cooking, and scary movies!!! I’m in college atm, majoring in English. I want to be a middle school English teacher when I graduate! I'm an infp, quiet and shy, kind, I don't show affection well, but I am v loving! I have blue eyes, copper hair, freckles, and tattoos! I'm 4'11" and I hate it lol. My favorite place is the beach and anywhere by the ocean! 💜

I'll try to get to these asap and they'll be posted between posts, but please understand I am one person so they might take some time! Xoxoxo💜💜💜💜

Tagging: @locke-writes

#johnnyshellby-ships #jammesbarnnes-ships #kaitbishop-ships #ship #ships #succession #succession ship

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fancybehaviour · 2 years ago

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Writer Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @incalculablepower! 💞💞

Tagging @hopeful-hufflepuff-peeves, @harryissuchalittleshit,

Do you write in order? Absolutely never! Most often it is random scenes that I then develop a plot to go with.

How fully formed does your writing come out the first try? I would say maybe 60% of it, I guess. Writing dialogues is the absolutely hardest for me, they are the ones that get most revised.

How many drafts do you go through? I can't say... I edit the same document multiple times before it is beta read and once more after it is. I would guess 4 or 5 though.

Tell me about your process. The process is that I get a burst of inspiration or maybe a little prompt, and then somehow get fixated on one or two scenes that are impactful to me. Then I build a story around those scenes lol. I have tried to be more ordered with a couple of ideas and created chapter wise movements, character sketches, planned character arcs and decided on plot changes...and ended up never writing them. It's the sudden inspiration ones that get me writing.

#tag game

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fantasywriter19 · 1 year ago

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1. Melody Riddle and the Sorcerer's Stone Ch.10 The Sorting

No sooner had Mr. Hagrid knocked on the door than it swung open, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald robes with a very stern expression on her face.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,” Mr. Hagrid told the woman.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here,” Professor McGonagall said.

Pulling the door wider, all the students around me looked in the entrance hall with wonder. It was fairly big, and I was somewhat surprised I hadn't really paid attention to it before as the stones were now lit with flaming torches and the ceiling went too high to look at. There was also a magnificent looking marble staircase facing us, leading upstairs.

Professor McGonagall led us across the floor, and there was the drone of a hundred or more voices from the Great Hall. She didn't lead us there, but instead took us into a small chamber close by. We all crowded in, standing very close to one another.

I looked around me. Becky was just about the only one looking excited while everyone else was extremely nervous. What are we going to do to find out which House we belong in?

Then, Professor McGonagall told us, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of each year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.

”I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

Professor McGonagall left the chamber and everyone started whispering nervously.

"What do we do for the ceremony?" I asked aloud, not caring who answered it so long as someone said something.

"I dunno, it's supposed to be a surprise,” Draco replied with a shrug.

I looked around at all the nervous incoming students. A lot of them were pale. Looking over at Harry Potter, I saw he was almost to the point of devastation he was shaking so much.

Why is that...? I looked away quickly as I realized I was reading too much into his emotions. Come on, Melody, this is not the school to be looking into other people’s minds at your every fancy. Not under Dumbledore’s watch.

Suddenly everyone started screaming and, turning to see what caused it, I made a small gasp. About twenty or so ghosts were streaming in through the back wall. They were all a pearly-white, transparent bunch, barely glancing at us as they glided across the room above us, all talking to one another. Some seemed to be arguing.

“Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —” a fat little monk ghost was saying.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?" a ghost wearing a ruff and tights asked all of us, but no one answered. All we could do was stare.

All those months in Hogwarts and I didn't remember seeing a single ghost! What is this?

"New students!" the Friar said excitedly, smiling at us. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

Some people, I saw, nodded, still taking in the appearance of the ghosts while I looked away. It was all really weird, too weird, to only just now see that there were ghosts floating about the school. How could I have possibly missed them? Did they just happen to always be in different rooms from me for all that time?

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" I heard the Friar exclaim. "My old House you know."

Addy let out a small giggle as he passed by us with an excited expression.

Professor McGonagall came back into the room and snapped at the ghosts, "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Each of the ghosts floated away, one by one, through the opposite wall from whence they came.

Then she spoke to us, "Now, form a line, and follow me."

We all got into line; me behind Draco, and Becky behind me. Professor McGonagall led us out of the chamber, back across the hall, and into the Great Hall.

This was also the first time I really looked at the Great Hall since, the last time I went in, I was hurrying to get out. But now I couldn't, because I had to do something in front of the whole school anyway. Looking at it, it was lit by thousands and thousands of candles all floating in midair above the four long tables which were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. Then I looked up at the ceiling, remembering from the book, Hogwarts: A History, that it was bewitched to look like the sky outside.

Hearing a “Psst!” I looked over at the Gryffindor table to see the Weasley twins giving me a thumbs up. I gave one back to them to show that I was ready.

Professor McGonagall led us near where the fifth table was, the one with all the teachers and Professor Dumbledore. Then she placed a four-legged stool in front of us, and on top of it placed a pointed wizard's hat. It was patched, frayed, and very dirty looking.

What do we do with that? I thought. But then a rip near the brim opened up like a mouth, and the hat sang a song:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

As the hat finished its song, I heard the whole hall burst into applause. The hat bowed to each House table and then sat still.

“Ravenclaw or Slytherin?” Becky whispered to me.

“I don’t know," I replied softly, my nerves twisting at the thought of being sorted away from them. “I’m mostly worried that we may not end up in the same House.”

“I’m worried, too,” Addy admitted from behind Becky.

“We can try to. And even if we aren't, we can still hang out together." Becky said.

I nodded, a bit relieved at the suggestion. "Yeah, that's what we need to do."

Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a piece of parchment in her hands. A list of the students? “When I call your name,” she said, “You will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.”

"With everyone watching?" Becky asked gleefully.

My lips pursed, Only she could be excited about that.

“Obviously,” Addy said through gritted teeth, though I hardly heard her. My attention was on Professor McGonagall… and the hat that would decide our fates.

"Abbot, Hannah!" Professor McGonagall said, holding the hat until a girl came up and sat down.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat yelled. The Hufflepuff table burst into applause.

"Bones, Susan!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"Slytherin!"

I felt like tuning everything out, all that was going on generally consisted of shouting and applause. There were even pauses. Sometimes the hat chose instantly, and sometimes it took a while to decide.

Of course, there were certain people I didn't tune out for. Vincent and Greg were in Slytherin… of course.

"Figsund, Rebecca!"

When Becky went up, she took the hat from Professor McGonagall’s hands to put it on herself — with the deputy Headmistress’ lips pursing in response — and the hat took a while before it, too, shouted out that she was “Slytherin!"

That girl gave her Cheshire grin toward the Ravenclaw table and, handing the hat back to Professor McGonagall, went to the Slytherin table without hesitation, sitting directly across from Vincent.

“Gentz, Addison!” When Addy went up, her hands shaking uncontrollably, the House put her in "Hufflepuff!" She wandered over to her table, glancing at me and Becky like a lost puppy.

Oh boy, I thought worriedly, They’re already in two separate Houses. But it’s okay, we’ll still hang out together like Becky said. Right?

I actually perked up to listen when "Granger, Hermione!” was called.

"Gryffindor!"

Hm, I thought to myself with a sigh, another separate House. I don't think I'll be in that one. I can’t really consider myself that 'brave' of a person. No Weasley twins — which also thankfully means no Hermione Granger — for me.

As I was thinking this, “Longbottom, Neville!” was called to the stool and placed in Gryffindor. He doesn't seem very brave, maybe I have a chance, I thought as he accidentally ran to the table with the hat still on his head, and had to run back to return it to Professor McGonagall.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

I watched as Draco made his way over to the Sorting Hat, and it very barely touched his head when it shouted out “Slytherin!” He excitedly went to sit down with Greg, Vincent, and Becky, sitting across from the empty space next to Becky. He glanced at the space as though expecting someone to sit there…. Me? Is he waiting for me?

Some more people went up. I found out that the name of the girl who was in the same boat as us coming here was Pansy Parkinson, and she was also put in Slytherin.

A couple more names later and out came, "Potter, Harry!"

It was amazing how many people broke out in whispers, watching him nervously make his way up to the stool and sit down on it. When the hat was placed on him, as with everyone else, it covered his eyes. After a while, I saw him grip on the edges of the chair, as if in an argument with the hat. Then came the shout of, "Gryffindor!"

There were screams of excitement as the hat was taken off of Harry, and he made his way to the Gryffindor table. Everyone there was overjoyed. Fred and George were even shouting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

I chuckled softly.

"Riddle, Melody!”

It took a moment longer for me to realize that I was called right after Harry. Going up, no one was really looking at me, but at him. I appreciated not having all the attention, so it looked like it paid well for me to be after this boy. But I did have the attention of Draco, Vincent, Greg, Addy, Hermione, Becky, and the Weasley twins. Even Professors Snape and Dumbledore were interested in watching me.

The hat slipped onto my head and I was engulfed in darkness. I felt the probe of something entering my mind, much like Professor Snape attempted one month ago, but this time I didn’t push it out. It had to be the hat picking my House from my personality, I supposed.

"Hmm, very very difficult to choose," I heard the hat say, but I only just realized it was echoing through my mind, not for anyone else to hear. "You have a dark family history, that's for certain. A very clever and cunning girl. You have the intellect to get yourself out of tight spaces, but also the guile to deceive the most powerful of wizards."

I wondered just what he was talking about… I’ve never thought of myself as cunning.

“The House with the most cunning of individuals would suit you well, not just from your nature but also from your ancestors. Much, much better than only wits. Better be…" I felt the hat come out of my head to shout out to the hall, "Slytherin!"

The hat came off of my head, and I made my way over to the Slytherin table in utter confusion. What had that hat been babbling about? Dark family history? My cunning nature? Deceit? My ancestors? What could it possibly base all of that on?

I sat down next to Becky, and looked over at the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Addy looked like she was let down. Hermione was frowning slightly… though our meeting had only been brief. The twins' mouths were understandably opened wide.

"We're all together!" Draco said excitedly.

Yeah, but unluckily for you we have Becky. I started whispering to her, "We can check with Addy maybe tomorrow to see if we have any classes with her, and perhaps a free time."

Becky nodded vigorously. "I'm just glad that I'm not the one who's alone. Addy can handle herself, at least.... But look at my brother!" This she added with considerable annoyance, pointing to the Ravenclaw table.

I looked over at the Ravenclaw table where her brother, who had curly, light brown hair, was going back and forth between smiling and frowning. Then he looked over at Becky and did some hand motions at her that I didn't understand.

She looked at him angrily, giving hand motions back and turning pointedly away from him. He turned to watch the rest of the sorting, which didn't have very many people left.

"What did he just say?" I asked her.

"That he's going to send a letter to dad about me getting into Slytherin," she said moodily.

“I thought you might want to be the unique one in your family,” I said thoughtfully. “Especially with the way you first smiled after you were sorted.”

She grinned, “Oh, I do. I have to get past the shaming first, but then I’ll be ever so happy.”

I snorted with laughter. She was certainly something else.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

”I honestly don't understand its decision for me," I told her truthfully, causing her to look at me curiously. "It basically said I'm so smart that I'm cunning…. It even said something about my family history being dark, so I don't know. But I believe I was really close to Ravenclaw."

“Yeah…” Becky said thoughtfully. “But at least this isn't so bad!"

"Are you joking?" Draco asked her, more than eager to join the conversation. "Slytherin is perfect! Hufflepuff's a bore! Ravenclaw's deadly! And Gryffindor's are just a bunch of tossers."

I snorted. “Well, aren’t I glad not to be in the 'tosser' category.”

Becky was stifling her laughter, having a really hard time not bursting it out. She finally was able to choke out, "Raven – claw the – most – deadly? Oh – my – brother wouldn’t – get a kick – out of that! Better – not tell that – to my parents! Haha!"

Draco’s pleased, flushed cheeks said it all.

After the sorting, Professor McGonagall took away the stool and the Sorting Hat. Professor Dumbledore now stood up, beaming at all of us and holding his arms out as if trying to embrace us in a large group hug.

He began a speech… an extremely short, exceedingly weird speech. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Everyone clapped and cheered as he sat down, and I laughed out loud with Becky. "He's a bit odd isn't he?" I asked.

But before Becky could even get out a response, both our mouths almost fell open in shock as the dishes in the middle of the table were now filled with a lot of different foods. It was the most I'd ever seen, even in all the banquets I'd ever been to.

We all started loading our plates. I filled mine with roast chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and some peas. Didn’t want to overload if, with the way this looked, there was some dessert to come after it.

A ghost suddenly came over to us and sat down next to Draco, who looked nervously at him. The ghost looked very horrible, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with what I supposed was blood, but it was silvery like the rest of his body.

"Hello," he said to us curtly. "New first years I see."

"Hi," I said, deciding to be friendly, though he looked fairly bedraggled and menacing. "What's your name?"

"I am the Bloody Baron, your House Ghost…… You have a vaguely familiar aura about you, you know?" he said to me. Draco paled, as if he was talking to him.

"Perhaps because my dad was in your House when he was at Hogwarts.”

"Hmm…" he thought aloud, "What is your name again?"

"Melody Riddle,” I said. “My dad was Tom.”

"Ah yes! Tom Riddle was in this House, a very clever young man…. Now that I think about it, you look a bit like him. Who was your mother?" he asked, immediately intrigued. But, I noted, when I said my last name he flinched a little.

"Orele Ollivander. She was in Ravenclaw,” I said, nonplussed when everyone around me suddenly gasped. "What?!" I asked, miffed that I had forgotten to attempt not mentioning my relationship to the famous wandmaker.

"Orele! I remember her. No wonder your eyes are like that. So she had a child with Tom Riddle… how lovely." Though the Bloody Baron said 'how lovely’, his tone was dry. "No doubt you will be great in all your classes as they were, and perhaps even a strong interest in the Dark Arts they had."

"Yeah, I guess," I said slowly. “So you knew them well?”

“Both of them were top of their class, and the most popular in their years! Was not one student that didn’t know their names,” the Bloody Baron said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he glided quickly away for another Slytherin to talk to. I thought it was slightly odd that he should know so much about my own parents… remember them specifically, even, over a span of however long he himself had been dead. They may have been popular in their years, sure, but to think about how many popular kids there have been over time was unthinkable.

"You're related to Mr. Ollivander?" Becky asked me. I nodded. "Why didn't you guys act like family when we went to the shop together? You were asking so many questions about him!”

Draco was looking just as intrigued.

"I only found out about it after you and Addy left the shop, so I hadn't actually known at the time when we were getting our wands," I said, cutting into my chicken and explaining to them about what had happened. I was doing my best to eat and talk, but not with my mouth full. When I finally finished talking, I had also finished eating, and dessert had appeared in the dishes where the entrée had been.

“That’s incredible. I’d have had no clue,” Becky said thoughtfully. “Although perhaps the giveaway should’ve been the eyes. Honestly, just the fact that I hadn’t even thought of it before is mind boggling. You and your mother have those unique eyes of his.”

Draco leaned forward, a pumpkin pasty in hand as he stared at me. “Wow, they really are that silvery. And I thought that was just because he was blind.”

“Honestly, don’t even worry about it,” I said, helping myself to some chocolate ice cream and chocolate éclairs, biting into the latter and feeling very satisfied. If this was what meals were going to look like every day, then I was happy to admit that I was in heaven. “I’d rather talk about something else, anyway.”

“All right,” Becky said with a shrug, already finding the means to change the subject. “I notice you don't eat much, but you sure do like chocolate.”

”Let her eat what she wants," Draco said. "What she eats is none of your concern. It’s what you feed yourself that you should worry about."

"Excuse me if I like to observe how the people around me eat," Becky said. "Like I don't know if I want to always sit near you, because you eat like a pig. Hoarding everything you see into your body."

”I do not!" Draco defended himself, another pink tinge finding its way into his cheeks.

"Have you honestly seen yourself?" Becky asked him.

"How about the both of you stop fighting for the rest of the feast and wait for tomorrow?" I asked them. They actually nodded, glaring at each other.

I took that moment to glance up at the teacher's table. There was Professor Snape seated next to Professor Quirrell. Neither looked happy with their seating arrangements. Professor Quirrell was still very, very jittery. Contrary to what mom had promised, I was certain he was still going to be a stutterer. Professor Snape himself still looked plain annoyed.

Then, I saw something fairly strange. At the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter looked up at Professor Snape who looked back at him with such levels of hate and anger that — though I couldn't place what was so wrong — I could feel that energy without even needing to attempt to study it. But, as soon as that happened, Quirrell suddenly grabbed the back of his turban as if it was about ready to fall off and Harry clutched at his forehead in pain.

Then everything seemed as though it all suddenly subsided.

When Harry looked back up at the teacher's table, though, his eyes went right for Professor Snape. How odd, I thought curiously.

Once the desserts disappeared, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall was finally silent.

“Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered.”

I wondered if it was going to be another three random words. I was pleasantly surprised when it was not.

"I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

I felt my face scrunch up at this news, thinking that though the warning was very straightforward, it also didn’t explain very much. My friends chuckled softly at it, but I wasn't sure whether or not this was a laughing matter. He was obviously a crazy man, but with the way he had just said it… he might as well have been serious.

Professor Dumbledore spoke again, "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" He gave his wand a small flick and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, rising high above each of the tables and twisting itself into words for us to read. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

I listened to the rest of the school sing:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everyone had a different beat to their tunes, stopping at different times. The Weasley twins were the last ones singing the words to a very slow funeral march, Professor Dumbledore conducted the last few lines they sang.

Wiping a happy tear out of his eye, he commented, “Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

After the feast, the Slytherin Prefects called for all first year Slytherins to follow them — and we did so eagerly — out of the Great Hall. The girl prefect — tall with mousy brown hair — talked to us while she walked, the boy prefect just following silently behind us all. I only listened out of curiosity but wondered at the back of my mind where they would be taking us for the Slytherin dormitories.

"Congratulations!" the girl said, waving her hands in the air. How flamboyant. "I'm Prefect Gemma Farley, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Slytherin House. Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures; our House colours are emerald green and silver, and our common room lies behind a concealed entrance down in the dungeons. As you'll see, its windows look out into the depths of the Hogwarts lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by — and sometimes more interesting creatures. We like to feel that our hangout has the aura of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck.

"Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin — and a few you should forget."

Of course we’re in the dungeons… perfect for me. It’s just what the doctor ordered.

“Firstly, let's dispel a few myths. You might have heard rumours about Slytherin House — that we're all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard, and rubbish like that. Well, you don't want to believe everything you hear from competing Houses. I'm not denying that we've produced our share of Dark wizards, but so have the other three Houses — they just don't like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but nowadays you'll find plenty of people in Slytherin House who have at least one Muggle parent.”

Draco and plenty of other Slytherins scowled and scanned the faces around them as though they would be able to tell who was Muggleborn. I resisted the need to scowl, thinking of my Muggle stepfather with a heavy heart.

“Here's a little-known fact that the other three Houses don't bring up much: Merlin was a Slytherin. Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very House! Do you want to follow in the footsteps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth?”

No one answered. It somehow felt understandable, though I wondered what the historic Merlin was really famous for. There were plenty of stories and fairy tales told in the Muggle world, but they couldn't be the truth — just spins on the real one.

"I didn't think so," Gemma said smugly. "But that's enough about what we're not. Let's talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest House in this school. We play to win, because we care about the honor and traditions of Slytherin."

I liked the wording there. Gemma was making a great first impression for Slytherins — if only other Houses could hear it without disagreeing.

"We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you've got access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your quill."

Feared? I thought uncertainly. Do I want that?.. Matter of fact, why does the idea bug me so much?

"But we're not bad people. We're like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood.

"For instance, we Slytherins look after our own – which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we're concerned, once you've become a snake, you're one of ours — one of the elite."

Becky sniggered silently next to me, as well as Draco. The whole thing about the Ravenclaws was obviously funny to them — to me too. I almost thought I wanted to be with them. But I personally didn’t care that much about grading higher than others. At least, I thought, Becky and Draco could get along through this.

Gemma continued, “Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You've been chosen by this House because you've got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special. Well, keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there's something great about them, and don't you forget it.

“And talking of people who aren't destined for greatness, I haven't mentioned the Gryffindors. Now, a lot of people say that Slytherins and Gryffindors represent two sides of the same coin. Personally, I think Gryffindors are nothing more than wannabe Slytherins. Mind you, some people say that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor prized the same kinds of students, so perhaps we are more similar than we like to think. But that doesn't mean that we cosy up with Gryffindors. They like beating us only slightly less than we like beating them.”

Great, I thought with slight sadness, enemies with Gryffindors. What fun. Well, it proves what mom told me. She gave plenty of warning in all exactness.

“A few more things you might need to know: our House Ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him he'll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Just don't ask him how he got bloodstained; he doesn't like it.

“The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another House into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries.

"Well, I think that's all for now. I'm sure you'll like our dormitories. We sleep in ancient four-posters with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins cover the walls, and silver lanterns hang from the ceilings. You'll sleep well; it's very soothing, listening to the lake water lapping against the windows at night.”

By that point, we had reached the dungeons. I was surprised by how perfect Slytherin House seemed now. Although, Draco’s face whitened considerably at the mention of the Bloody Baron. Poor boy.

Gemma stopped up by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. She said "Salazar," and a stone door concealed within the wall opened. We all went in, ending up in a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling. There were round, green lamps above us hanging on chains, a fire was crackling under a nicely carved mantelpiece, and there were a couple high-backed chairs by the fire underneath it.

"This is nice," Becky whispered to me. "Might not be too bad."

Draco glared at her again. I kept my mind reading out of it, and imagined that he was thinking: 'Of course it won't be too bad! This is Slytherin, it's amazing!'

Gemma led us to our dormitories. The older students were already in theirs, I guessed, as we made our way to the first year girl's dorms, losing the boys to theirs.

We had just gone up a few steps to get to our dorms, and there was no doubting the soothing sound of the lake water’s light splashing. Becky and I didn't say much to our new roommates, Millicent and Pansy. We just dressed in our pajamas, bade each other good night, and once we lay down we fell asleep instantly from the long day.

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#melody riddle #harry potter fandom #voldemort’s daughter #becky figsund #addy gentz #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter #fred and george weasley #bloody baron #albus dumbledore #severus snape #quirinus quirrell #the sorting hat #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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