#( fifth year ) and the rebellion starts

[moonpascaltoo]

ominis gaunt

MASTERLIST • HOGWARTS LEGACY • 11/29/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 something wretched about this, something so precious about this I @shadowtriovibes

mc is absolutely taken with ominis' mouth in every sense of the word

𑣲 you were the first I @spaceyaceface

Ominis Gaunt has never known affection. He has never known how it felt to love---to be loved. She came and changed all of it.

𑣲 only in dreams I @/spaceyaceface

She spent her days in love with him, and her nights wishing they were together. But she knew it would never be---Ominis Gaunt had sworn off love for the sake of ending his family's legacy. She knew she wouldn't be an exception to that.

𑣲 he’s so in love I @hufflepuffwitchhh

ominis is in love with you. now, who's gonna tell him?

𑣲 her touch I @thenerdykneazle

Ominis had never been fond of being touched. Or, at least, he had few positive experiences with it. That changed with the arrival of the new fifth-year.

𑣲 amorous tension I @/thenerdykneazle

Poppy is quite sure her best friend has feelings for our favourite heir of Slytherin. MC is quite sure she doesn't, despite abundant evidence to the contrary. When Ominis asks MC to help him study for an upcoming potions exam, she jumps at the chance.

𑣲 the scriptorium I @/thenerdykneazle

After a harrowing journey through Slytherin's Scriptorium, Ominis helps MC recover from being subjected to the torture curse. After all, he has personal experience dealing with its effects.

𑣲 because you’re mine I @metal-mouse

You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.

𑣲 sensing you part 2 I @darknights04

You and Ominis have been friends for as long as you've been at Hogwarts. He's felt more for you for almost just as long. He's never thought about telling you, but that was until the new fifth year put you in great danger.

𑣲 a jeweled promise I @forbidden-amortentia

In 7th year, to formalize Ominis & reader courting/dating, he gifts them a necklace. While putting it on, it can only be unlocked with parseltongue, so a bit possessive but mostly sweet demonstration of his affection & devotion to reader. Possibly includes some tender touches and kisses in the neck/ear/jaw area.

𑣲 hold me close and hold me fast I @princessconsuela120

You fall asleep on Ominis' shoulder during class.

𑣲 all you’ve done part 2 part 3 I @chickenlizard13

𑣲 actions speak louder than words I @sissyisawitch

Even though the two of you are not on good terms after a certain event, you and Ominis decide to go and explore Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium in order to help Sebastian. But you know what they say, danger helps to reconcile… but also to bring out the truth.

𑣲 note taking part 2 part 3 part 4 I @dittanyinbloom

𑣲 the polyjuice ploy I @cranetreegang

𑣲 temporary blindness I @sebastianswallows

𑣲 in the middle part 2 I @awkwardauthorwrites

After a few months of knowing the reader the boys suddenly realise one day they are falling in love with the reader and start to become a bit bitter towards each other and very jealous if another guy gives her attention.

𑣲 moonlight I @galaxiasgreen

In search of distraction from Ranrok's rebellion, you dance with Ominis in the Undercroft.

𑣲 a cruelty vivid and sweet part 2 part 3 I @/galaxiasgreen

Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things.

𑣲 like an evening sky I @thecharacterchronicler

You ask Ominis to be your date for the ball and he feels sorry that he can’t see how beautiful you are... So you help him get a much more detailed and intimate idea of what you look like.

𑣲 return I @weasleys-wizard-writes

You and Ominis are finally reunited on the Hogwarts express after several weeks apart. The only problem is, you're running late, and Gaunts are not known for their patience...

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

More Than Just a Favor | Sebastian Sallow x Reader One-Shot

I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE 100 FOLLOWERS?

Might be a small milestone to some but I only made this blog a little over a month ago so I am just quite surprised, and honored! Thank you to every single one of you who chose to follow my silly little fanfic blog. To celebrate and as a little thank you, I've written a female mc x sebastian one shot for y'all to enjoy <3

Summary: Rumor has it, you're still a virgin. Sebastian intends to find out if the gossip is true.

Words: ~9,300

Tags: Modern AU, Confessions, Smut, First Time, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sebastian x Female Reader, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

It started the way most Hogwarts rumors did: with a fragile ego, a loose tongue, and someone who couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

Sebastian wasn’t one to keep track of the latest school gossip. He had better things to do—like beating Ominis at chess, ditching homework, or sneaking off to the Undercroft with you. But this time, he didn’t have much of a choice. This particular rumor wasn’t just background noise; it was everywhere. And it was about you.

Apparently, your ex-boyfriend, the prat Sebastian had barely tolerated even back when you were dating, had let something slip to one of his friends. It wasn’t just an offhanded comment, either. No, he’d told the guy—loudly enough to be overheard in the courtyard—that the two of you broke up because you refused to go past second base with him.

“Six months, and nothing,” the friend had gossiped afterward, his c oice carrying over the sound of students milling about after lunch. “No wonder he’s still bitter.”

From there, the rumor was all anyone could talk about.

“She’s still a virgin?” “You’d think she’d have gotten it out of the way by now.” “Didn’t they date for, like, six months? What was the point?”

The whispering spread like Fiendfyre. Even students who didn’t know you beyond your reputation—the girl who’d saved Hogwarts from Ranrok’s rebellion in fifth year, who seemed fearless in every sense of the word—were weighing in, dissecting your personal life like it was some kind of puzzle to solve.

Of course, it didn’t help that your ex was known for being pissed about the break up. People speculated he’d let the secret slip on purpose, unable to handle the fact that you’d dumped him in the first place. That made the whole thing worse, because now it wasn’t just about you—it was about him and his wounded pride, and the entire school seemed to be picking sides.

Sebastian overheard it for the first time during lunch, sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table. A group of fifth years down the way were giggling, their voices barely low enough to avoid catching the attention of a passing professor.

“Can you believe it?” one girl said, her voice dripping with glee. “Her, of all people?”

“What about her?” her friend asked, clearly out of the loop.

“She’s a virgin!” the first girl whispered, as though it were the most scandalous thing she’d ever heard. “Apparently, that’s why her ex dumped her. Six months together, and she wouldn’t even—”

Sebastian’s fork clattered against his plate, cutting the girl off mid-sentence.

She froze, glancing nervously at him as he slowly pulled the earbud from his right ear. His music—something dark and brooding, of course—cut out as he turned toward her, brown eyes sharp.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

The girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her robe, but her friend wasn’t nearly as cautious.

“You haven’t heard? Her ex said they broke up because she wouldn’t put out,” the friend explained matter-of-factly, not bothering to lower his voice.

Sebastian stared at them as a slow, creeping heat rose in his chest, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. Anger? Maybe. Amusement? Possibly. Relief? …Definitely.

Not that he let them know that.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than talk about things that aren’t your business?” he asked, his voice low and even.

The girl fidgeted more visibly now, her face paling. Her friend, however, didn’t seem to share the sense of self-preservation.

“Relax, Sallow,” he said with a smirk, leaning forward conspiratorially. “It’s not like we’re the only ones talking about it. It’s everywhere.”

Sebastian’s dark eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his temper in check.

“Well, maybe you should be the first ones to shut up about it.

“Alright, alright,” the friend muttered, holding up his hands defensively. “No need to get all defensive. I’m just saying what everyone’s already heard.”

“Right,” Sebastian drawled, his lip curling in disdain as he leaned back slightly, letting his glare linger just long enough to make them uncomfortable. “Because if everyone is doing it then it's totally fine to continue parroting garbage.''

That seemed to do the trick. The pair exchanged nervous glances before muttering half-hearted excuses and scurrying off like rats abandoning a sinking ship.

But of course, it wasn’t just the younger students gossiping. For the rest of the day, he caught snippets of conversations in the corridors, in classrooms, even in the common room that evening. It was everywhere, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his curiosity got the better of him.

That night, he found you in the Undercroft, just like he’d expected.

The moment Sebastian stepped through the arched entrance, the tension in his shoulders eased. The familiar hum of magic in the air wrapped around him like a blanket, muting the noise of the outside world. The Undercroft had always been your shared refuge—a place where the two of you could escape from everything else.

And there you were, sitting on the floor near the far wall, legs crossed with a book resting on your lap. Your back was straight, your expression focused, but the way your shoulders hunched slightly told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t fine.

Sebastian leaned against one of the stone columns, crossing his arms as he watched you for a moment. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy like a storm waiting to break. Part of him didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to push you when you clearly needed space.

But the other part of him—the louder, more stubborn part, the part that wanted the rumor to be true—refused to stay quiet, because the thought of you being with someone else—being close to someone else—had always tied him up in knots. And your ex? That prat? The six months you’d spent with him had been absolutely torturous for Sebastian.

He’d never told you, of course. He’d plastered on his usual smirk, rolled his eyes every time you mentioned the guy’s name, and thrown in the occasional jab about how you could do better. But every time you left to meet him, every time he’d see the two of you sitting together at meals or laughing in the courtyard, it had felt like a gut punch.

He’d spent more nights than he cared to admit lying awake in the Slytherin dormitory, staring up at the canopy of his bed with his heart pounding and his mind racing. He hated the thought of someone else holding your hand, kissing you, whispering things in your ear that he didn’t dare say aloud.

Not that he should’ve been surprised. Every guy at Hogwarts had pined after you since fifth year. You were fearless, funny, and maddeningly brilliant. You were the one who had charged headfirst into danger when Ranrok threatened everything, the one who’d become a legend among your peers before you even hit sixteen.

And on top of all that, you were beautiful. Not the kind of beauty that demanded attention, but the kind that pulled people in without you even trying. You didn’t seem to realize the effect you had on people, and maybe that’s what made it worse.

Because Sebastian had known, from the moment he met you, that you were going to ruin him.

And now, standing here in the Undercroft, watching you hunch slightly under the weight of a stupid rumor, all those feelings surged to the surface. The relief, the jealousy, the guilt. He wanted the rumor to be true—wanted it to be true so badly that it scared him.

"So..." he start slowly, "You want to talk about it?"

You startled slightly, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. For a moment, you didn’t say anything, your eyes narrowing as if trying to figure out his angle. Then you huffed, snapping your Charms textbook shut and tossing it onto the floor beside you.

“Not really,” you muttered, your tone sharper than usual.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk despite the tension in his chest.

“Come on,” he pressed, his voice softer now but still laced with that familiar teasing edge. “It’s me. You can tell me anything."

Your expression darkened as you stood abruptly, brushing dust off your robes. “What’s there to talk about, Sebastian? It’s just a stupid rumor.”

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you pace the length of the room.

You stopped mid-step, your shoulders stiffening before you turned to face him fully. “Yes, it is,” you snapped, your voice rising slightly. “But apparently, the entire school thinks it’s their business now.”

Sebastian studied you carefully, his smirk fading. He could see the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, the way your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. This wasn’t like you. You were always so steady, so unshakable, the kind of person who didn’t care what anyone thought. But now? Now you looked… rattled.

“They’re idiots,” he said simply, shrugging one shoulder. “You know that.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you turned away from him. “Doesn’t stop them from talking, does it?”

Sebastian pushed off the column, closing the distance between you with a few lazy steps. He stopped just a foot or two away, his voice low and careful as he said, “So… is it true?”

You froze, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Then, slowly, crossed defensively over your chest.

"That's not your business, Sebastian."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smirk—too soft, too careful—but still undeniably him. He tilted his head, studying you with that infuriatingly patient look he reserved for when he wasn’t ready to let something go.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “But you’re my best friend, so I’m making it my business.”

You glared at him, your arms tightening over your chest. “Why? So you can laugh about it like everyone else?”

That stung, more than he wanted to admit. His smirk faltered, his brows knitting together as he took a step closer.

“Come on,” he said, his voice softening. “You know me better than that.”

Your gaze flickered, uncertainty flashing across your face before you looked away, your jaw tightening.

Sebastian let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. He didn’t want to push you, not when you were already on edge, but the knot in his chest refused to loosen.

“Look,” he started, his tone gentler now, “I don’t care what everyone’s are saying. They don’t know you—not really. And whatever your ex said? That just proves how much of a git he is.”

You scoffed, your eyes snapping back to his. “You hated him before this, Sebastian. Don’t act like this is some new revelation.”

“You’re right,” he said, his grin creeping back, though it was tempered by something warmer. “I did hate him. Still do. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was less fire in the gesture now, as though his words had chipped away at some of the tension in your shoulders.

Sebastian took another step closer, the space between you shrinking until he could see the way your hands trembled as you fidgeted with the fabric of your sleeve. He tilted his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“So,” he said slowly, “you’re not going to deny it?”

You hesitated, your throat working as you swallowed hard. “Why does it matter to you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. Sebastian’s heart thudded in his chest, the truth clawing at the back of his throat. He could feel it pressing against his ribs, begging to be let out.

But instead, he shrugged, forcing a casual grin. “It doesn’t,” he lied. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice sharper now, defensive.

He hesitated, his grin faltering for a split second before he recovered. “Because it’s you,” he said, his tone quieter now. “You’re… you. Brave, reckless, brilliant—and gorgeous, by the way, not that you ever seem to notice.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, clearly caught off guard by the compliment. He couldn't really blame you. Sebastian almost always avoided saying anything that got too close to the truth of his feelings.

But he pressed on, his voice softening further. “You could have anyone you wanted. Hell, half the guys in school are practically lining up for a chance. So yeah, I just assumed…” He trailed off, shrugging again, though the motion felt heavier this time.

“Well, you assumed wrong,” you muttered, shifting your weight awkwardly.

The confirmation leaving your lips had Sebastian’s thoughts grinding to a halt, his mind caught somewhere between relief and confusion.

By principle, Sebastian didn’t care how many people someone had slept with—or if they hadn’t slept with anyone at all. It wasn’t something he judged people for. Hell, he was hardly a paragon of chastity. His own reputation preceded him—half the school whispered about his escapades, and he didn’t exactly go out of his way to deny the rumors. He wore the label of "man whore" like a badge of honor, not because he particularly enjoyed the attention, but because it was easier than letting anyone see the truth.

And the truth was simple: all of it—every fleeting flirtation, every casual hookup, every whispered name—had been nothing more than a distraction. A way to dull the ache of wanting something he could never have.

So when it came to you, his principles fell apart. The selfish, possessive part of him—the part he usually tried to shove into a dark corner of his mind—was pleased. Pleased that you were still untouched. Pleased that he might still have a chance to be your first, and if he had his way, he’d be your only.

He shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget. “Well,” he said softly, his voice dipping into something quieter, something that wasn’t quite teasing but still carried the edge of a grin. “…Good.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “Good?” you repeated, your voice sharp with disbelief.

“Yeah,” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer, something real. “Good. It means you didn’t let that asshole have something he didn’t deserve.”

You blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by his words. For a moment, you just stared, like you were trying to figure him out, to dig past the layers of teasing and bravado to whatever truth lay beneath.

"You're oddly fixated on this." You observed.

Sebastian could feel the truth clawing at him, desperate to be set free, but instead, he forced a shrug, his smirk creeping back into place.

“I'm not fixated,” he lied, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. “I just think you deserve better than someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture lacked its usual fire. “You’ve been saying that since the day I started dating him.”

“Because it’s true,” Sebastian shot back, his grin widening just enough to show a hint of teeth. “You’re amazing, and he… well, he was decidedly not.”

The faintest smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and Sebastian’s chest tightened at the sight. He would’ve given anything to see that smile directed at him forever.

“Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, though your cheeks were still flushed, and you shifted awkwardly under his gaze.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the air between you thick. Sebastian could feel it—the tension, the weight of everything he wasn’t saying—and he knew, deep down, that this moment was teetering on the edge of something neither of you could take back.

And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he said, “You know… if you ever wanted to change that status, you could always come to me.”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth fell open slightly as you stared at him, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light even as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “I mean, you trust me, right? And I’m…” He paused, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Well, let’s just say I have experience.”

You groaned, "Seb, I really don't want to hear about how you fucked three girls in one night in three separate broom closets, okay? You sexcapades are not exactly my favorite topic."

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard by your blunt response. Then he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the Undercroft. It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, apparently, because your glare deepened, but there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation.

“Why not?” he asked, grinning wide, leaning slightly closer. “You don’t find my sexcapades entertaining?”

“No,” you shot back, though your lips twitched like you were fighting a smile. “They’re revolting. And the fact that half the school thinks you’re incapable of keeping it in your pants doesn’t entertain me nor scream trustworthy.”

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest. “Ouch. Way to attack my character”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were flushed. “You practically brag about it. You’re always smirking when people bring it up, like it’s some badge of honor.”

“Maybe I’m just giving them what they want,” Sebastian shot back smoothly, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “You know how people are. They love a good story.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “So you didn’t hook up with three girls in one night?”

Sebastian hesitated, his grin faltering for a split second. “Well, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Yes, I have a bit of a reputation. But let’s be honest—none of it actually matters. It’s not like I care about any of the girls I hook up with.”

You frowned at him, your gaze narrowing. “Then why do it?”

Sebastian blinked. For a moment, his smirk slipped completely, and the air between you grew heavier. But then, just as quickly, he recovered, his lips twitching into that familiar, teasing grin.

“Well,” he started, his tone light but laced with mischief, “it’s better than getting myself off alone in bed ten feet from Ominis, isn’t it?”

Your jaw dropped, and you gawked at him, absolutely dumbfounded. “Sebastian!”

“What?” he said, shrugging innocently, though the grin on his face was anything but. “I’m just saying. Can you imagine?” He raised his voice, mimicking Ominis’s clipped, proper tone. “‘Really, Sebastian? At two in the morning? Some of us enjoy sleep.’”

You stared at him, torn between horror and the urge to laugh, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t need to know that!”

“Sure you did,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “Now you understand why I’ve had to… broaden my horizons.”

“Broaden your horizons?” you repeated, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “That’s what you’re calling it?”

“Well, what would you call it?” he shot back, his grin widening.

“I’d call it—” You cut yourself off, groaning as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound warm and rich, and for a moment, it felt like the tension between you had lifted. But then his laughter faded, and he took a step closer, his expression softening into something more serious.

“Look,” he said, his tone quieter now, more honest. “What I’m really trying to say is that if…” He swallowed hard, and for a brief moment, he considered stopping—considered leaving it unsaid. But then he met your eyes, and something in your gaze spurred him on, despite every instinct screaming at him to shut up.

“If you’re planning on… you know, getting it over with,” he forced out, his voice low and uneven, “then I’ll help.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Help?”

Sebastian nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop them from fidgeting. “Yeah. I’ll… I don’t know. Give you the dirt on whoever you’re thinking about. Tell you if they’re decent, or if they’re just going to make things worse for you.”

Your expression shifted from confusion to something closer to disbelief. “Seb, are you seriously offering to vet potential guys for me?”

“Well, someone has to,” he said, his grin returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean, let’s face it—your taste hasn’t exactly been stellar so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind the gesture. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” he pressed, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “If you’re going to do this, you might as well make sure it’s with someone who’s not going to screw it up—or worse, brag about it to half the school.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your arms still crossed over your chest. “Why would you even offer that?”

Sebastian hesitated, the mask slipping for a split second as he tried to find the right words.

“Because you’re my best friend,” he said finally, the words tasting both honest and hollow at the same time. “And I don’t want you to regret it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, and Sebastian felt his heart thudding in his chest. The truth was, it wasn’t just about you. Not entirely. A selfish part of him couldn’t bear the thought of someone else being close to you in a way he wasn’t. Offering to help—offering to vet anyone you might consider—felt like a way to keep some semblance of control over a situation that made his stomach churn.

Because now he had a second chance at this. And if you went through with it, if you let someone else touch you, have you in a way that Sebastian could only dream of, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He told himself it was noble—that he was doing this for your sake, to protect you from making a mistake. But deep down, he knew it was self-serving, a desperate attempt to steer you away from anyone else while he tried to gather the courage to tell you the truth.

“Well, I’m not… planning anything,” you said at length, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, the knot in his chest loosening just slightly at your words. He hadn’t realized just how tightly he’d been wound, how much tension he’d been carrying since this stupid rumor started spreading.

“Good,” he said, his tone gentler now, though he couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “Because honestly? Most of the guys around here are prats. You’d be better off waiting two months until after Hogwarts. At least then you won’t be stuck hearing about it in the Great Hall for weeks.”

You hummed thoughtfully, tilting your head as if considering his words. “And… if you were vetting yourself… would you approve?”

Sebastian froze, his usual quick wit momentarily failing him as his brain scrambled for a response. “I—what?” he stammered, caught entirely off guard. “That’s—that’s not—”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?” you cut in, your tone light but pointed as you smirked at him. “You were just interrogating me about my sex life. Why shouldn’t I get to turn the tables and question you back?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to even begin responding. His mind was racing, caught somewhere between indignation, panic, and the nagging realization that he’d never actually considered it before—but now that he had, the answer was glaringly obvious.

He wouldn’t pass his own vetting.

Not even close.

If the situation were reversed, if someone like him were sniffing around you, Sebastian would shut it down faster than you could blink. He wouldn’t just give a list of reasons why the guy wasn’t good enough for you; he’d give a dissertation.

The reckless streak. The reputation. The countless rumors of broom closet escapades. It didn’t matter that most of them were exaggerated, or that none of it had ever meant anything.

And that wasn’t even scratching the surface. Because beyond the gossip and the bravado and the endless teasing, Sebastian knew himself. He knew the flaws that weren’t just rumors. The impulsiveness. The temper. The way he threw himself into things without thinking, consequences be damned.

If he were vetting himself for you, the answer would be painfully clear: absolutely not.

But here you were, watching him with a raised eyebrow and that infuriating, knowing little smirk, like you were daring him to come up with an answer that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“Well?” you prompted, your tone light but laced with curiosity. “Would you pass?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, stalling for time as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “That’s… an unfair question,” he said finally.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Because you’re not trying to get with me,” Sebastian said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, like he’d swallowed something he couldn’t spit out.

But then something happened that he didn’t anticipate.

You didn’t respond.

Your mouth opened, as though you were about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you just stared at him, your eyes wide and searching, your expression unreadable. Slowly, your cheeks began to flush, a deep warmth spreading across your face.

Sebastian froze, his own grin faltering as confusion flickered across his face. “What?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your mouth shut, and for a moment, it looked like you might try to play it off. But the blush only deepened, spreading to the tips of your ears as you looked away, fidgeting with the sleeve of your robe.

Sebastian’s stomach flipped. He didn’t know what to make of this—of you.

You, who could go toe-to-toe with him in every argument, every tease, every prank. You, who always seemed so steady, so sure of yourself, now standing there, cheeks aflame and uncharacteristically quiet.

“Wait,” he said slowly, his voice dropping as he stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “What—"

“It's nothing,” you said quickly, your tone higher than usual as you avoided his gaze.

Sebastian blinked, his mind grinding to a halt as he stared at you. Slowly, like puzzle pieces falling into place, the realization began to wash over him.

“Is it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone.

You froze. “Sebastian, don’t,” you said softly, but there was no bite to your words—no real protest.

Sebastian’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. It certainly was not nothing.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t agree with me.”

You winced, your cheeks burning even brighter as you finally glanced up at him. “Seb…”

“No, no, hang on,” he said quickly, his mind racing as he took a step closer, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Are you—wait, are you saying that you would—” He cut himself off, his voice catching in his throat as the weight of the moment hit him. “Bloody hell—"

“Sebastian, please,” you cut in quickly, your voice rising just enough to interrupt him. Your hands flew up as if to stop his words before they could leave his mouth. You were panicking now, trying to salvage the moment, the heat in your cheeks only growing more intense. “It’s not— I didn’t mean— Look, it’s nothing, alright? Just forget I said anything.”

“Forget it?” he repeated, his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was sure you could hear it. “Are you serious? You expect me to just… move on like you didn’t just almost admit—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard, his voice dropping lower. “Like you didn’t just make me think that you might—”

“Sebastian, don’t,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you took a half-step back. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But you didn’t even say anything,” he countered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took a step closer, closing the distance you were trying to put between you. “You didn’t have to. I saw it on your face.”

You flinched at that, your lips pressing into a thin line as your gaze flickered downward.

“Look at me,” Sebastian said softly, his tone lacking its usual teasing edge. “Please.”

You hesitated, your shoulders tensing, but eventually, you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were wide, brimming with uncertainty, vulnerability, and something else he couldn’t quite name—but it was enough to make his chest ache.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me I’m not imagining this."

You opened your mouth, your throat working as you struggled to find the words. Sebastian thought you might deny it again, that you’d laugh it off and shove him back into the safe, familiar box of your friendship. But then you closed your eyes, exhaling shakily.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “You’re not imagining things. But this… this doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” he repeated, his brows furrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Not like that,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just mean… it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Sebastian said, his voice firmer now, more insistent. “And neither am I.”

You blinked at him, startled by the intensity in his tone, and Sebastian felt a flicker of hope spark in his chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve been—” He stopped himself, letting out a shaky laugh as he raked a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Sebastian...”

“No, listen,” he said, cutting you off as he stepped even closer, his voice dropping into something softer, more vulnerable. “I’ve been driving myself mad for years thinking that I’d have to spend the rest of my life pretending that I’m okay with just being your friend. And now you’re here, blushing like mad, trying to convince me that this doesn’t mean anything, when it’s the only thing I’ve wanted to mean everything.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you crackling with tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” he said, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Tell me that you’ve thought about this, about us. Because if you haven’t, I’ll let it go. I’ll never bring it up again. But if you have…” He trailed off, his chest heaving as he waited for your answer, every nerve in his body on edge.

You stared at him, your lips parted slightly as you struggled to find the words. And then, finally, you let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing as you whispered, “I have.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

"So you... you want me?"

You huffed a laugh, your gaze flickering away. "Of course I want you,” you mumbled. “I’ve wanted you since we met."

The world seemed to tilt beneath Sebastian’s feet. His legs felt unsteady, his chest too tight to contain everything that had been bottled up inside him for years. All the late nights he’d spent staring at the canopy of his bed, wishing things were different. All the times he’d watched you smile at him, laugh with him, and ached for something he thought he could never have. And now, here you were, saying the very thing he’d been terrified to let himself hope for.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair as a shaky laugh escaped him. He felt dazed, like he’d just been hit with a Confundus Charm. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your brows furrowed, and the corners of your mouth dipped down. “Seb, if you’re about to make a joke—”

Sebastian didn’t let you finish. He closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face as his lips crashed into yours.

You froze for a split second, caught off guard, but then you melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as if to anchor yourself.

Sebastian kissed you like his life depended on it, like you were air and he’d been suffocating.

And in that moment, he realized he had been suffocating, drowning in his feelings for you and his fear of ruining everything. But now, with you in his arms, kissing him back like this was where you’d always meant to be, he felt like he could finally breathe.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you were breathless. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands still cupping your face as though he was afraid to let go.

"So... you want me too?" Your voice was small, almost uncertain, like you still couldn’t quite believe it yourself.

He let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I thought I made that pretty clear,” he said softly, his lips twitching into a small, crooked smile. “But yeah. I want you. I’ve wanted you since… well, since the first time you insulted my dueling form.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound light and shaky, but genuine. “That was years ago.”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening.

Your expression shifted. Your eyes, still soft from the kiss, suddenly took on that sharp edge he knew all too well.

He’d seen that look a hundred times before—right before you suggested something outrageous, something that would almost certainly land the two of you in trouble. But this time, it was different. This time, the stakes felt infinitely higher, and Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you, holding his breath.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

You leaned back slightly, studying him with that mischievous gleam in your eyes, and Sebastian swore his heart was about to give out.

“Well,” you started slowly, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “If we’re being honest about what we want…”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his hands still resting on your cheeks. “Go on,” he said, though his voice was rough.

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you leaned closer. “You said you’d help me if I ever wanted to change my…status,” you said, your voice dropping into something softer, something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “Does that offer still stand?”

Sebastian’s breath caught. His eyes widened slightly, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking, but all he saw was that familiar confidence, the same fire that had drawn him to you in the first place.

“You’re not serious,” he said, though his voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions swirling in his chest—hope, fear, and something that felt dangerously close to pure, unfiltered desire.

You tilted your head, your smirk softening into something gentler, something that made his stomach flip. “Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked quietly.

Sebastian couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you like he was committing this moment to memory—like he needed to be sure it was real before he dared let himself believe it. Then, slowly, a small, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” he said, his voice rough but tinged with a teasing lilt, “I’d be an idiot to say no, but..."

"But?"

Sebastian’s voice dropped, softer now, almost hesitant. “But if we do this… I need you to understand something.” His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks, his gaze searching yours. "I don’t want this to be some casual thing. I don’t want it to be something we joke about tomorrow or pretend never happened."

Your teasing smirk faltered, your expression softening as the weight of his words sank in. “Sebastian…” you started, your voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly as though to clear his thoughts. "Fuck, I'm in love with you and I want you forever. I want all of you. And I need to know that this is what you want too. Because if we do this—if we cross that line—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back. I don’t want to go back. "

Your laugh was soft, shaky, but warm enough to chase away the tension tightening Sebastian’s chest. “Sebastian, you absolute idiot,” you said, your voice a mix of amusement and affection. “I love you too. You already had my forever."

Sebastian froze. You loved him. You loved him.

With a low, broken sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, he pulled you to him, his lips crashing against yours.

"Then yes," he said against your lips, "The offer still stands."

His lips crashing into yours, Sebastian backed you up slowly until you pressed against the cool, rough surface of the wall. His hands slid down your sides, his touch warm and firm, before they found your thighs. With a low, breathless groan, he lifted you, his fingers curling around the soft flesh beneath your skirt. The warmth of your skin against his palms made his head spin, and a shaky moan escaped his lips as he pressed you tighter against him.

He was in heaven. After so much imagining, so many stolen glances and sleepless nights spent wanting this—wanting you—he finally got to touch you, hold you, have you. And the way you clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist as your hands tangled in his hair, only made it better. Perfect, even.

Your kisses were desperate, almost frantic, and every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent fire racing through his veins. When you broke away from his mouth, trailing kisses along his jaw before latching onto the sensitive skin of his neck, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, his head tipping back slightly to give you more access.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse as your teeth grazed his skin. “You’re driving me mad.”

You didn’t stop, didn’t so much as pause, as you nipped at his neck, your lips soothing the sting with soft kisses before you sucked gently, leaving faint marks in your wake. Your hands slid down to his chest, tugging at the buttons of his shirt, and Sebastian could only chuckle breathlessly, his voice rough with want.

“Impatient, are we?” he teased, though his own hands were just as restless, roaming your thighs and hips like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your tone sharp but breathless as you finally yanked the fabric apart, buttons clattering to the floor.

Sebastian’s hands tightened on your thighs, his arousal growing almost unbearable as you continued your assault on his senses. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and he knew he couldn’t take much more of this—of you.

With a low, frustrated growl, he pulled back slightly, carrying you to one of the worn-out couches in the corner. The cushions creaked under your combined weight as he set you down gently, his body covering yours as he leaned over you, his hands braced on either side of your head.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his dark eyes roaming your face as though committing every detail to memory, because you were a vision, and the fact that you were here, with him, looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered, nearly undid him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with reverence.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint, breathless laugh escaping as you reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself."

Sebastian huffed a laugh, and his lips found their way back to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin with a newfound urgency. His hands slid along your sides, his fingers skimming the fabric of your sweater until they found the hem. He paused for just a moment, giving you a chance to stop him, but when you arched into him, your silent permission, he tugged the material upward.

The sweater caught slightly as he pulled it over your head, and you laughed softly, the sound muffled by the fabric. “Impatient are we?” you mocked breathlessly as he tossed the garment aside.

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly as his hands immediately found your waist again, sliding up to palm you over your bra. His fingers curled around the soft fabric, thumbs brushing over the lace, and his breath hitched when you let out a soft, barely audible moan at the contact.

“Fuck,” Sebastian muttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he squeezed gently, his touch reverent, almost hesitant. “You’re perfect. I’ve thought about this so many times, and it doesn’t even come close to—” He broke off, his words dissolving into a groan as you arched into him again, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You think too much,” you murmured, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as your hands found their way to his chest, exploring the warm, firm planes of muscle beneath your fingers. “Just feel.”

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, though it was shaky and tinged with desperation as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “Oh, believe me,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m feeling plenty.”

His lips trailed lower, down the column of your neck and across your chest, lingering just above the edge of your bra. His hands slid around your back, fumbling slightly as he searched for the clasp, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness.

“Need some help?” you teased, though your voice was just as breathless as his.

“Shut it,” he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his tone. When he finally managed to unhook it, the fabric loosened, and Sebastian pulled it away slowly, almost reverently, his eyes darkening as they roamed over you.

“God,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he cupped you in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your bare skin. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, but before you could respond, his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. His lips and tongue worked in tandem, drawing soft gasps and whimpers from you that only spurred him on. His hands explored every inch of you, mapping out the curves and dips of your body like he was committing them to memory.

And Merlin, you were just as eager, your hands slipping down his back, your nails grazing his skin as you tugged him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist once more. Every touch, every kiss, every breath shared between you was electric, setting your nerves alight and leaving you both trembling with need.

“Sebastian,” you murmured, his name a plea on your lips as you arched into him, your hands tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

He groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he tried to steady himself, his breathing ragged. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed the heat and affection swirling in his chest.

“Then die happy,” you shot back, your hands working to unbutton his trousers

Sebastian’s laugh was low and breathless, his hands momentarily leaving your body as he stood to slide the the fabric down his legs, and he decided that if this was the end, if you were the last thing he ever got to hold, he would die the happiest man alive.

His hands trembled slightly as they found your hips, his fingers curling around the waistband of your skirt. Slowly, almost reverently, he began to tug the fabric down, revealing more of you with each passing second.

His heart thundered in his chest when the fabric slid past your thighs, pooling at your knees before he finally discarded it onto the floor. Now, with both of you stripped down to nothing but your underwear, the reality of the moment hit him like a lightning strike.

His arousal, already insistent, became nearly unbearable, straining against the fabric of his boxers as his gaze swept over you. Splayed out on the worn couch, your hair spilled like a halo across the cushions, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and every inch of you seemed to beckon him closer. The taut peaks of your breasts, flushed and bare to him, drew his attention, sending a sharp pang of need coursing through him. Your kiss-bruised lips, slightly swollen and parted, were enough to leave him breathless, but it was the way your thighs pressed together, your hips shifting slightly, and the soft flush painting your skin that nearly broke his restraint.

You squirmed under his gaze, your cheeks burning a lovely pink that traveled down to your neck, and Sebastian was certain he’d never seen anything more stunning in his life.

Sebastian sank down onto the couch, hovering over you once more, his arms braced on either side of your head as he took in every detail of your expression. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might break through his ribs. But when his eyes met yours, he faltered.

There, just beneath the heat and want in your gaze, was a flicker of something softer—nerves, apprehension.

This was your first time.

The gravity of it settled heavily on his chest all over again, eclipsing the raw desire that had been driving him just seconds ago. As much as he wanted to let his instincts take over, to lose himself in the sheer need coursing through him, he knew he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—rush this.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to gently cradle your face. The tenderness of the gesture seemed to soothe the tension in your body, and he felt you relax slightly beneath him.

“We don’t have to do this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice soft and steady. “If you’re not ready—if you need more time—just say the word, and we’ll stop. No questions, no pressure. I mean it.”

Your lips parted as you stared up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your hands slid up to rest on his shoulders. “I want this,” you said, your voice quiet but sure. “I’m ready, Seb. I trust you.”

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly as relief and affection washed over him. When he opened them again, his gaze was softer, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied you. “If I do something you don’t like,” he said gently, “or if you change your mind at any point, just tell me. Promise me.”

“I promise."

Sebastian nodded, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “Alright,” he murmured, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips before he shifted back. After sliding your thong down your legs, his hands reached for your knees, his fingers curling around them as he gently urged your legs apart. His touch was firm but careful, like he was holding something fragile and precious.

When his gaze dropped to the space between your thighs, a low, guttural groan escaped him, unbidden. He braced himself with one hand on your knee, the other sliding along your inner thigh as though drawn there by instinct.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“Seb…” you murmured, your voice trembling as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his forearm.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he smiled—a small, lopsided grin that carried all the affection and adoration he couldn’t put into words. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his hand sliding to your hip as he settled between your legs. “I promise, I’ve got you.”

Sebastian leaned forward again, his hands framing your hips as he lowered himself over you. He felt your trembling hands move to the waistband of his boxers, your fingers brushing against his skin. He bit his lip, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tried to keep his composure.

When you tugged gently, his hands left your body for just a moment as he helped slide the fabric down, discarding it carelessly onto the floor. He knelt there for a second, his heart pounding as he hovered above you, watching your reaction like it was the only thing that mattered.

The moment your gaze dropped, your breath caught audibly, your lips parting in surprise. Your eyes widened slightly before the surprise gave way to something deeper, something that made the heat in his chest bloom into something all-encompassing. The desire in your expression, raw and unguarded, left him completely undone.

Sebastian felt his face flush, a lopsided, slightly nervous smile tugging at his lips as he watched you take him in. “You alright?” he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking back up to meet his, and he saw a glimmer of shyness there—so unlike the confident, unshakable version of you the rest of the world knew. “I’m... you're so..." he watched you swallow hard, hesitant yet heavy with want.

“I’m what?” he asked softly, his voice low and rough. He leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your hip, his touch warm and grounding. “Come on, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging now.”

You swallowed again, your chest rising and falling with shallow, unsteady breaths. “You’re so big, I— will it hurt?"

Sebastian’s breath hitched at your words, a wave of satisfaction and desire crashing through him, leaving his heart pounding and his arousal almost unbearable. The raw honesty in your voice, the uncertainty paired with the compliment, made his chest ache with a mixture of pride and tenderness.

Still, the flicker of apprehension in your gaze snapped him back to the gravity of the moment. He couldn’t let the intensity of his need overpower what mattered most: you.

He exhaled slowly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“It might,” he admitted softly, his voice low and steady. “It might hurt a little at first. But I promise you, I’ll go slow—so slow—and I’ll stop the second you want me to. You just have to tell me, okay?”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath trembling as you nodded. “Okay."

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your hip. “I swear, I’ll take care of you. I won’t let it be anything but good for you.”

You gave him a small, shaky smile, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to pull him closer. “I know."

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting briefly against yours as he reached down to position himself at your entrance. His hand trembled slightly—not from hesitation, but from the sheer weight of the moment, the overwhelming intensity of finally being this close to you, of having you completely. His eyes flicked up to meet yours one last time, searching for any trace of doubt.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered, his voice soft and soothing as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. “I’ve got you.”

You nodded, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, your fingers curling into his skin as you drew him closer.

With infinite care, Sebastian began to press forward, his body taut with restraint as he eased himself into you. The moment he felt your warmth enveloping him, tight and slick and impossibly perfect, a low, guttural groan tore from his chest, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. “You feel… you feel so good. So fucking good.”

Your breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your body stretched to accommodate him. There was a slight pinch at first, an ache that made you tense momentarily, but Sebastian’s hands were there, grounding you, one cradling your hip while the other brushed soothing circles against your thigh.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice laced with both tenderness and the barest hint of desperation. “Just breathe, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

You nodded, exhaling shakily as you focused on his voice, his touch, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. Slowly, the discomfort began to fade, replaced by something deeper, something warmer.

Sebastian felt the change, the way your body softened beneath him, the way your fingers gripped his shoulders less tightly. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he began to move again, inching deeper with agonizing slowness.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice thick with awe and desire. “So warm. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your soft whimper in response had his restraint fraying at the edges and he fought to keep his movements measured. Every inch of you wrapped around him like a vice, and the heat and wetness of you was enough to drive him to the brink of madness.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, his name a plea on your lips as your hands slid up to tangle in his hair. “You can… you can move.”

He groaned softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tight as he forced himself to hold still, his entire body trembling with the effort.

“Yes,” you whispered, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. “I’m ready.”

With a shaky exhale, Sebastian nodded, his hands tightening on your hips as he began rocking into you with slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation was overwhelming—your body clinging to him, so snug and impossibly warm, every movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, his head dropping to rest against yours as he found a rhythm, each thrust measured and careful, ensuring you had time to adjust.

Your soft moans and the way your body responded to him only spurred him on, his movements growing just a fraction deeper, more deliberate, as he let himself sink further into you. The way you arched beneath him, the way your nails grazed his skin, made his restraint fray further, but he forced himself to hold on. This was about you—making sure you felt safe, cherished, and utterly adored.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured, his voice rough but laced with affection as his lips brushed against your ear. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“It’s… it’s good,” you whispered, your voice trembling but full of warmth. “Better than good. You feel amazing, Seb.”

The sincerity in your voice made his chest tighten, his heart pounding as he pressed a series of soft, reverent kisses along your jaw. “You’re amazing,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything.”

And as he continued, his movements slow and deliberate, Sebastian let himself savor every moment, every sound, every touch, etching the memory into his soul, and he swore he’d spend the rest of his life making sure you knew just how deeply he cherished you.

Gryffindor Divider Credit Support Divider Credit

[crescenthistory]

my lovely carinaa, i'm so happy for youuu!!💫

for this celebration, could you analyze barty and how he feels around divination? wich could be if he's good at it (tarot reading, chiromancy, tea leaves reading, astrology...), or how he would interact with a friend/lover who practices it.

anyways, i want to congratulate you again for being so amazing xx 💓

hi my darling<333 thank you so so much, you are amazing and a real day 1er for me mwah

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i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. and his relationship with divination

carina's 2k celebration

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i think barty is really into divination ironically

by the time he got to his first divination class, he was already rebelling against his father and trying to create as sharp of a contrast between them as possible

considering his father is a politician who is swept up in paperwork and logistics, being a divination "fanatic" is a great way to achieve that

i mean, barty gets top grades in genuinely every single subject, i think he is the type who just puts everything together with zero effort, in that way that frustrates the academic overachievers like regulus to no end

but he rarely participates in class or use his knowledge unless it is to prove a point

so when he really throws his whole theatrical self into divination, it stands out to both students and professors alike

whether it is professor trelawney or someone else in this time period, i don't think they would be able to tell that barty is 1) bullshitting or 2) taking the piss

while evan and his other friends can clearly tell and are snickering in the background

barty would make up these elaborate stories about what he sees in the teacup or what he reads on someone's palm, gasping at what is "revealed" to him – if he was bored, he would maybe even fake cry

even though he doesn't really see anything or care all that much

his engagement and passion gets to the point where the professor invites him to have tea privately and discuss more advanced divination regularly

and barty will always commit to the bit, happily becoming the professor's favourite student and doing all the research

it was all for the act of rebellion and shits and giggles, barty's core motivations in life – until he begins to grow up a bit

as he gets towards fifth year and his perception of the world begins to even out and grow with him, i think he begins to have some change of heart

firstly, this boy has mummy and daddy issues, so being the professor's favourite would eventually do something to him

being loved? remembered? thought of? praised? validated? trusted? it was exactly what he needed

at some point, he starts viewing them as a parental figure, and quiets down on the mockery of it all

but it's not like he can just back out of how dedicated he was when he no longer wants to make as obvious of a joke of it, so instead he begins to become more earnest in his approach

especially as he learns more and more, he realises that divination is not just looking into an orb and making up random shit the way he has been approaching it; there is a method to the madness, an infinitely deep approach to this unique way of magic

while i don't think he would become a divination freak overnight, this respect would slowly be building within him as he comes to appreciate the professor more and more

made especially worse by the fact that his father got worse and worse the older he got

and as this respect grows, of course the rebellion against senior becomes more effective too, so in reality, barty still achieved what he wanted

then, if he around sixth/seventh year would begin falling for someone who is genuinely passionate about divination (whether that is whimsical!reader, spiritual!reader, etc.) that would be the final nail in the coffin

if you were to use divination in some capacity to understand him better and unpack the mystery that was barty crouch jr., he would feel so painfully seen

to have someone make an effort with him is not something he is used to

the fact that he knows so much from having weekly tea with the professor is something for you to bond over

and you get to teach barty what this form of magic means to you and how you make active use of it in your life

while barty stands by committing to bits and taking the piss out of any- and everything he can, i think he would truly see the value in it

having you hold his hand and analyse it would feel so intimate to him, and the fact that he even understood what you were saying when you read it would be something he was so grateful for

now, the joke would be less so "oh wow lads i love this useless type of magic" and rather more "i am a divination expert and i know better than all of you bigots"

(because while his affections may have changed, his personality obviously has not)

also the professor would so attend the wedding

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Ah thank you so much for your post on Harry's overprotectiveness and how it is deeply rooted in his fear of losing the only family he has by the end of the series not because he thinks Ginny is not capable enough

You spoke God's truth

But like seriously I have seen so many people pointing out the "problem" in Hinny and why they won't make it long term as a couple is that Harry after the war has to see Ginny as a peer not as something to be protected and that's why they are not equals... And I'm like what makes you think he doesn't see her as his equal?

Do I need to point out the number of times in HBP and DH whatever Ginny is doing Harry's reaction is a mix of "wowww my girl is doing amazing" and "OMG what is she doing, she might get herself killed and I'll die seeing just that, poor Voldy shorts would not have to put so much effort in killing me"

And I'm sure this has been pointed out before...A 15 year old Harry had a very similar reaction towards Sirius, a 30 something adult with 7 years of complete magical education, experience in fighting death eaters in Order of the Phoenix and then emotionally fighting the dementors for 12 long years.

You are welcome!

.

Harry in canon after he discovers Ginny is leading a rebellion:

This scant news made Harry want to see Ginny so badly it felt like a stomachache; but it also made him think of Ron again, and of Dumbledore, and of Hogwarts itself, which he missed nearly as much as his ex-girlfriend. - Chapter 15, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

What is true is that Harry hasn't properly processed how hurt Ginny was because he so desperately needed to believe she was safe that he would've needed to be slapped in the face with the reality, and in fact:

He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother’s shoulder: there would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. - Chapter 36, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

This does not mean Harry doesn't think that what Ginny did was valuable, important or a huge risk:

Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory, wondering whether the intensity with which he gazed at it might break into her sleep, that she would somehow know he was thinking about her, hoping that she was all right. - Chapter 16, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Harry is worried about her physical and mental well-being. But there's a difference between knowing someone is in danger/admiring them for what they are doing and being in the mental space to properly process the information of the love of your life being tortured (something that he would need to deduce from Neville's tale and he is not in the mental space to do it). It would happen once he talks with Ginny (I think Rowling should've created the situation for it once Harry talked with Neville but for reasons that have nothing to do with hinny and everything to do with the devastatingly boring plot of this book).

[I wrote about this in Back to the Eclipse if someone wants to read it.]

It's like when people say that Harry wouldn't tell Ginny things because he didn't let her in the Voldemort stuff completely ignoring that:

Dumbledore tells him to talk only with Ron and Hermione about it and he dies before Harry might start wondering why exactly he can't talk to Ginny about it and ask Albus (I would have loved to see the answer to that question)

Harry has a pathological need to protect her (which I agree is something he needs to work on but it is a direct consequence of how important she is to him and I'll argue it's a flaw that in a moderate dose balances out one of Ginny's)

Harry ends up telling Ginny his mission (killing Voldemort) anyway because he is shit at keeping things from her, as pointed out since the fifth book

Harry is so shit at keeping things from Ginny he has a hard time keeping things from Molly because she has Ginny's eye colour

When Ron gets hurt in HBP, Harry and Ginny get into an obsessive conversation about what might have happened (he is clearly comfortable in discussing important stuff with her, including his beloved mysteries)

His only plan for the future after the battle is endlessly talking with Ginny

The only thing people should deduce is that Ginny most likely spent a good part of her life being an insane security breach of the Department of Law Enforcement (to be fair to Harry: the majority of spouses of people in law enforcement are).

[midnightstargazer]

Sometimes I forget how many of my mutuals don't like my favorite character. Until I see this on my dash, and then I remember:

Anyway, I'm not going to reblog and argue with people on a correctly tagged post that was clearly not meant for Regulus fans. But I don't think Sirius & Regulus had a relationship similar to Harry & Dudley.

Sirius & Regulus had a scapegoat and golden child dynamic, I've said that before. But I tend to think this came later, as a response to Sirius's rebellion. He was treated badly by their parents and Regulus was seen as "a much better son" because Sirius refused to be what they expected. With Harry, the mistreatment started the moment he arrived on their doorstep, for no other reason than because he was Lily's son and a wizard.

Harry was never treated like family. He slept in the cupboard under the stairs while Dudley had two bedrooms, was made to work hard while Dudley seemingly did no chores at all, and was given only the basic necessities while Dudley was spoiled rotten. So this creates, from day one, a huge divide between them. Dudley was probably encouraged in bullying Harry, and would've been strongly discouraged from trying to befriend him or treating him like an equal.

There's no evidence that Sirius and Regulus were treated so differently as young children. It's noted in Deathly Hallows that their bedrooms were very similar, except the decor and the fact that Sirius's was a bit larger - quite different from Dudley's two bedrooms and Harry's cupboard under the stairs. With Sirius being the oldest boy in his generation from a family that cared a lot about surnames and bloodlines, they probably had high expectations for him and, initially, would've favored him - until he made it clear he wasn't going to go along with their crap.

Before he started school, I think they would have been more accepting of his rebellious nature, assuming he would turn out similar to Walburga and Bellatrix, who are certainly not meek or submissive but remain in line with the family's values. But then, of course, Sirius ended up in Gryffindor - which I also think is when he started developing ideas about pure-bloods not being superior, etc., after spending time away from the family and meeting people like Lily and Remus. So their favoritism towards Regulus probably began with Sirius's Sorting, and really solidified once Regulus started school and went to Slytherin.

Sirius ran away when he was "about sixteen" - I usually go for Christmas of his fifth year, since that would be just after his sixteenth birthday, but it could probably be anywhere from the summer before (almost sixteen) to the summer after (almost seventeen). So it was about 4-5 years between when Sirius lost their parents' favor and when he left home for the last time.

This is the time period when I think they were really pitted against each other the most. And I'm not saying Regulus was totally innocent in this, but I do tend to think there's something to it that doesn't exist in Harry & Dudley's relationship: a feeling of being in a precarious position. As the younger and previously overlooked son, suddenly the parents' favorite, watching his older brother fall from grace, I think he would have been very aware that the same could happen to him. The tables could turn, easily, because their parents' love was not unconditional. So I imagine him trying very hard to prevent that from happening, to live up to their expectations - and that would probably have led to hostility between himself and Sirius, but it's a very different dynamic than Dudley picking on Harry just because he knew he could get away with it.

If we're going to compare with Harry & Dudley, it's also worth mentioning, Dudley's behavior toward Harry included some pretty awful physical abuse. They didn't just argue, Dudley actually beat Harry up, sometimes with a bunch of his friends there to help him. There's no indication that Regulus was doing this to Sirius, or the magical equivalent of hexing him at any opportunity. When Sirius talked about Regulus, he never said he was violent or abusive, only that he was "soft enough to believe" what they were taught by the family. It was more of an ideological divide than anything else - one that culminated in both of them joining opposite sides of the war.

They're just very different situations, very different dynamics. I don't think it's fair to compare them. And I do think the Black brothers' relationship was much more complex than Harry & Dudley's, at least pre-DH.

[new-tella-us]

IT IS DONE

My hands are dead.

I am not creating a throne piece anytime soon so I might as well put the story here in the historian voice.

*A H E M*

The golden era is dead. All of the wives and sons disappeared after the war on the Demon Lord. And in Raestrao's place was the youngest of the royal brothers, Zecaeru. -though there is supporting evidence of there being a fifth son- This era goes by a few names though most call it the "Brimstone Era" after the fact that brimstone burns blue.

At the start of the Brimstone Era, most were shocked that Zecaeru took the throne of all sons. He was the shortest and physically weakest of them all yet he persists in the records while his brothers seemingly disappear.

With him was former princess of the Waterlily Kingdom and fourth wife of the Demon Lord, Aezera. She was reported to be the last surviving pure-blooded succubus after the disappearance and possible death of Ezaeur. Some believed that she was the one actually calling the shots and Zecaeru was just a puppet king though later on there would be journal entries of Zecaeru found that indicate that many of the coming laws were things he came up with. Aezera seemed to simply function as a particularly influential advisor rather than an unofficial queen.

The Brimstone Era was one of trials and tribulations but also great prosperity and wealth. The new king, while no where near as horrible as the previous Demon Lord, was not a merciful king. With the amount of coups he's had to quell, records show that this king often made an example of the worst in the coup in order to discourage further rebellions. We found evidence that this might have been because of madness. Reports at the time had mentioned the hints of madness yellow in the eyes of both Zecaeru and Aezera.

Despite the violence, Zecaeru did make an effort to enact programs to restore the kingdom and the kingdoms around him to their former glory. Through rigorous schedules of fixing buildings and restoring wildlife, the Abyssal Plains near the Decaying Sea started to bustle in the coming years. The king himself was also reported to have a fun and jovial personality. He would often crack jokes and even stop meetings to make himself food. It's often hard to believe that this is the king that caused so much death in his time.

Now, what of the girl to Zecaeru's left? Not many people know really. The mysterious girl was an elusive figure, not often seen and never heard. All anyone ever knew was that she had tan skin -from the small amount of skin she was allowed to show- and was possibly named "Mika" if the king's journals are accurate. Nothing else is known. The king had specifically made sure of that. He was known to be a jealous type and demanded that his concubine never reveal her face or voice to others. This was possibly taking inspiration from a previous queen, Dracae.

Now, calling Mika a "concubine" is the most accurate term though she was treated far better than most concubine of her time. Why, the previous one showed signs of physical abuse on her but this one was barely touched. She was dressed in fine clothes and silks and generally treated like a noble. However, the chains we would find around her hands and feet suggest that she was imprisoned in the castle, most likely magically. There aren't many records on how she felt about her situation or even how she got there so that's all we know about her.

Lastly we must talk about the heir. Zecaeru never did marry but he seemed to pick an heir from a line of capable relatives of his. The one he chose was a sickly but powerful young girl. Some historians, however, have come to believe that the choosing was faked and the girl that was "picked" was actually the daughter of the king and his concubine. The next queen looked very similar to both of her assumed parents and Zecaeru's family line was slaughtered on both sides so finding a relative would be difficult. Regardless, the reigns would eventually be passed onto this "relative" and she would be known as a much more fair queen than the previous two.

[kaviary-blog]

Never Knew Her Name

Sad little Drabble featuring Sebastian and an unspecified F!MC

After everything she had done for him and all they had been through, it was only after she was gone that he realized he never knew her. He didn’t even know her name.

Word Count: 726

“The New Fifth Year”

“The Troll Vanquisher”

“The Hero of Hogwarts”

She had many names and he knew her by all.

Except the one she was given at birth.

He could spot her across the hall, pinpoint her voice and laughter in a room, but he couldn’t call to her in anyway that mattered.

She had helped Sebastian with so much throughout the year that she was at Hogwarts. From midnight library escapades to storming goblin camps in the highlands. They had been partners in crime. She knew everything about him, yet he was so focused on his own goals he never paid her any mind.

She was merely background noise, a means to an end. He could hardly call her a friend. Ominis was his friend, they had been through everything together and grown up with each other. She just appeared one day and they spent time together. Her presence didn’t really affect him that much, after all she was always just around the corner or ready to drop everything at his owl. He didn’t need to miss her or wait around, she was at his beck and call.

Occasionally she would take a while to get back to him, spouting some nonsense about “keepers” or whatever she was on about. If it wasn’t about what he was trying to do, he simply didn’t care.

She was an ignorant little girl who doted on everyone around her, like an annoying hummingbird. Always around and nice to look at but difficult to get close to. She did anything as long as you merely asked. Naive and selfless to the point of easy manipulation; and Sebastian knew it.

That was about all that he knew about her.

-

Eventually she disappeared. It had been a couple weeks before he even noticed. She would always show back up, and only then would he have noticed she was gone.

They had gotten into yet another argument about Merlin knows what and he said some admittedly terrible things to her. She had left the Undercroft in tears. And he hadn’t seen her since.

And then the end of the year feast came around, the air was solemn and heavy. What is going on? he thought. Looking around at all the sullen faces of his peers and professors. Some of them offered him condolences, only confusing him more.

It wasn’t until Headmaster Black began talking that it dawned on him.

His “friend” had died.

In a battle to save the school from the goblin rebellion, she had given up her life.

Professor Fig and the now proclaimed “Hero of Hogwarts” had given up their lives to save the wizarding world and those that resided within the castle walls.

Sebastian didn’t hear the rest of Black’s speech, his head ringing with guilt and shame.

He hadn’t spoken to her in months, hell, he hadn’t even seen her since that night in the Undercroft. His chest tightened and he didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she come ask him for help? They were friends, weren’t they?

Except one detail.

He never knew her name.

The realization hit him. Hard. His breath caught in his lungs and his thoughts raced and he tried to recall any information he could about the girl?

Nothing. Not her name nor the color of her eyes; Merlin’s beard, he couldn’t even recall which house she was in.

—

Summer came and went, and he barely even thought about his fallen comrade. He tried not to think about all she would never do. The life she would never lead and all the things she would never get to try. He pushed her from her thoughts, detaching himself from that part of his heart.

Then the new school year started.

In the middle of one of the courtyards stood a brand new statue. Flowers decorated the base, gifts from grateful students who didn’t know who they were thanking.

He approached the statue, it was of his friend. In all her glory, wand held high and bravery permanently etched into her features. At least, if that’s what her features truly were; he couldn’t remember anymore. Maybe that was for the better. You can’t miss someone you never knew.

He looked at the new sculpture, plaque reading “The Hero of Hogwarts”.

He said silent goodbyes and thanked Merlin that he never knew her name.

[himluv]

DA Review Series: Asunder

I'm back with another review, and finally breaking into NEW territory for me! While I've read all the graphic novels, I had not read Asunder, The Masked Empire, or The Last Flight before this summer!

<<< Previous Review: Until We Sleep

Title: Asunder Author: David Gaider Publication Year: 2011 In-World Year: ~9:40 Dragon Verdict: This was my first time reading Asunder and it is HANDS DOWN required reading if you're a DA fan. There is so much lore and politics and it not only sets up Cole's origins and the state of the Seekers, but also gives us closure on Wynne and Shale. And it is by far the best of Gaider's books. An undeniably important entry in the series.

Asunder takes place not long after the end of Dragon Age II, in the Orlesian Circle of Magic called The White Spire. We meet so many important figures in this book! Divine Justina, Knight-Captain Evangeline, Senior Enchanter Rhys, Lord Seeker Lambert, and of course, Cole.

Basically, things are not going well in the Spire. Tensions are at an all-time high between the Mage's and the Templars, and a recent attack on the Divine by a rogue mage has brought the Seekers of Truth to the tower to investigate.

To make matters worse, there is a killer loose in the tower, and the only suspect is Rhys, a respected Spirit Mage. Rhys knows who the actual killer is, but knows no one will believe his story about the sad, invisible boy who can make people forget.

So, Rhys is eventually taken into custody for the murders. He's convinced he will rot away, neglected in the tower's prison, but is surprised to learn that he's needed for a mission to Adamant Fortress. And that his mother, Wynne — hero of the Fifth Blight — has requested his presence.

So, along with the Knight-Captain Evangeline and Wynne's stone golem companion, Shale, Rhys heads to the Western Approach, with Cole following at a safe distance. Once there they meet an elven mage who has reversed his Tranquility via spirit possession.

Knowing what the mages might discover, Lord Seeker Lambert has sent Evangeline with orders to keep the Chantry's secret at any cost. But Evangeline is not a monster, and she believes that Circles should be sanctuaries, not prisons. She agrees to escort Wynne and company directly to the Divine, disobeying the Lord Seeker's orders.

From there things escalate quickly. Wynne sends news to every Circle that the Rite of Tranquility can be reversed, and across Thedas mages vote for their independence from the Chantry.

The Seekers and Templar try to quash this "rebellion" at the White Spire, but Cole kills the Lord Seeker and the mages flee to the Western Approach. And so begins the Mage-Templar war that is raging at the start of Inquisition.

Asunder is a direct prequel to Inquisition, and explains SO MUCH about the state of Thedas before the Conclave. It provides so much context that I didn't even know I was missing, and it was honestly REALLY GOOD.

I zoomed through this book, the tension was great throughout, and I loved all of the characters. Like... I liked it so much I began to question if David Gaider actually wrote it. Which is unfair to Gaider, I suppose. He definitely levelled up from The Stolen Throne to Asunder, so credit where it's due.

Basically, I highly recommend Asunder if you haven't read it yet. There's great world-building, politics, and crunchy lore to gnaw on.

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 5: "it's a new day; let's go"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Designs were scattered over a table in Jackie's fashion studio. Design assistants, seamstresses, and her personal assistant all hovered nearby. She was in a quandary. Martin Margiela's show in Paris had sent shockwaves through the industry.

Her own Spring/Summer collection for next year had been completed and shown, but the '90s were going to change the culture -- fashion, music, social mores. Jackie felt it in her blood. 1989 was the end of an era, and her next collection needed to move forward, not stagnate.

"We're starting from scratch," she said, and her work team collectively gasped. "The House of Burkhart can't be viewed as a dilapidated relic from this decade. It must represent the future."

"But we've got orders for our Spring collection!" said Eva, her personal assistant.

"I'm rich as hell. I can afford the financial hit."

"And the reputation hit?"

Jackie learned well from high school how reputation operated. "We'll stage a winter fashion show -- "

Sergio, her head design assistant, cupped his forehead. "That's unheard of. The last fashion week of the year has come and gone."

"We'll establish our own. If Margiela can change the paradigm of the industry -- and, trust me, he has, despite the grousing of every other fashion house -- so can we. I want edgy, non-traditional wedding dresses. Ready-to-wear clothes that resemble haute couture. I've heard some great music from the Pacific Northwest thanks to my fiancé. It's not empty-headed and meaningless like hair metal. It had real emotion. We have to capture that spirit."

"You're talking full-on rebellion," said Shaniqua, another design assistant. Unlike Sergio, she was smiling conspiratorially.

Rachel, her apprentice designer, raised her hand. Jackie nodded at her, and she said, "Can you give us, like, a little more direction than words?"

"I can indeed." Jackie hefted one of Steven's duffel bags from beneath the table. Inside were many copies of Nirvana's album Bleach and singles from Mudhoney, Flaming Lips, Tad, the Afghan Whigs, and Mother Love Bone's EP Shine. Her new favorite song was on the EP, "Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns". If her next collection could reflect that one and the overall vibe from Bleach, along with influences from the singles, she'd shake up the industry as much as Margiela. Other fashion houses would need to play catch-up. "Your homework is to listen to this music and design."

Her team grabbed CDs from the duffel bag. They seemed confused, and Jackie clapped her hands once. The sound was so loud it echoed off the walls of her studio.

"It's October fifth," she said. "It's a new day; let's go!"

Her team scattered to their work stations, and she put on her headphones. She pressed play on her portable CD player. "Blew" from Bleach blasted her ears, and she began to sketch the House of Burkhart into the next decade.

[thenerdykneazle]

Yule Ball

images of Garreth above from @dvinaamesca here and here

Summary: Sometimes our favourite gregarious Gryffindor can be a bit thick. Professor Black reinstates the Yule Ball in your seventh year, and you realise last-minute that your boyfriend isn't planning on taking you. Leander tries to help his best mate patch things up with you. Sometimes simple misunderstandings lead to hurt feelings, but talking it out (and makeup sex) is always worth it.

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

A/N: Did I write an almost 9k fic because I loved a screenshot so much? Yes. Yes, I did. At any rate, this blog was far overdue for some Garreth love.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, aged-up characters, Garreth being oblivious, failure to communicate, caught indisposed, talks of hypothetically pregnant MC

Word count: 8621

Seventh year was going surprisingly well for you. The stress of exams was nothing compared to quashing a goblin rebellion, and poaching was at an all-time low in the Highlands. If you were honest, it was a bit dull. You had tried, back at the end of sixth year, to get Black to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament. You argued that it was the perfect time, exactly a century after the last one had been held. He had refused outright, arguing that it was “too dangerous.” You suspected his concern was less directed at whatever students would be competing and more due to the fact that the heads of the participating schools had been injured during the last one in 1792. Bloody coward.

You had started a whole campaign, hoping to pressure him into it, but he wouldn’t relent. Poppy managed to convince him to at least host a Yule Ball the following Christmas. The vain headmaster leapt at the chance to bring out his dress robes. It was settled.

At least you had quidditch to keep you from being bored to death. Games and practices playing chaser alongside your boyfriend were the highlight of each week. You had worried it might cause friction between the two of you when you and Garreth joined the team last year. Quite the contrary, you both worked together flawlessly. You practised so much that you had an almost telepathic connection on the pitch. You had been so close to winning the Quidditch Cup last year, and you had high hopes for this season.

Still, quidditch only provided so much of a distraction given the level of adventure to which you were accustomed, and you had looked forward to the Yule Ball all of autumn term. Poppy – and, to your surprise, Imelda – led the planning effort. You were confident it was going to be spectacular. You had already gone shopping with Natty, and Mr. Hill insisted on making custom gowns for both of you. He had always been appreciative of you two saving his shop from the troll back in fifth year.

As you were studying in the library for end-of-term exams, Poppy updated you on the planning. The ball was to be an all-night, Regency-style affair complete with dancing, a late supper, and more dancing. You couldn’t wait for Christmas to arrive.

Over lunch, Garreth expressed a similar sentiment. “I cannot wait for exams to be over. I swear my aunt is lurking around every corner to make sure I’m revising properly,” he groused. “It’s like she has no faith in me.”

“She just wants you to do well,” you assured him, rubbing a soothing hand between his shoulder blades.

“At least we have the holidays to look forward to,” he said. “Your parents are letting you stay here in the castle, right?”

“Yes!” you replied eagerly. “It’s going to be splendid, isn’t it? Have you gotten dress robes?”

Garreth’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What for?”

You gaped at him. “For the Yule Ball.”

He looked caught off guard. “I wasn’t planning on attending,” he admitted.

“What? You–You’re not going?” you asked, taken aback. “Are you serious?”

Your conversation caught Leander’s attention, and he looked nervously between you two. His eyes widened with intent as he stared at Garreth.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Garreth explained. “What’s the point?”

Leander hid his face in his hand, clearly embarrassed at his best mate’s lack of tact.

The bench scraped harshly on the stone floor as you got to your feet. “What’s the point?” you repeated, furious.

Garreth shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I’m telling you that you can’t go,” he said.

“Garreth Weasley, you inconsiderate – you oblivious – you – Ugh!” you spluttered. You grabbed your bag off the ground before storming off, leaving Garreth sat stunned on the bench.

“What is her problem?” he asked Leander.

“Mate…” the tall redhead said in a pitying tone. He just shook his head at the boy.

You spent the rest of exams avoiding Garreth. Fortunately, there were no quidditch practices to force you to interact with him. You studied in the Undercroft instead of the library. When you weren’t studying, you holed up in your dorm room where he couldn’t reach you. He tried to get Natty or Cressida to convince you to talk to him, but you were still too mad. You had spent months looking forward to the Yule Ball. You’d gushed to him about your excitement for the event dozens of times. It had never crossed your mind that your boyfriend wouldn’t escort you.

He managed to corner you once, on your way out of the potions exam. You suspected he had finished well before you and lingered for the express purpose of trying to talk to you. He chased you out, pulling you into an alcove in the corridor. “MC, I’m sorry,” he said, looking devestated. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You scowled, but you were listening.

“I just…I didn’t realise you cared so much about a silly little ball,” he continued, inserting his foot directly into his mouth.

You scoffed, shoving past him and starting down the corridor.

“Wait, that came out wrong,” Garreth said, rushing after you.

“Did it, now?” you replied, unconvinced.

You stopped abruptly, spinning back to face him as you crossed your arms over your chest. Garreth almost walked straight into you, but he caught himself just in time.

You arched an accusing brow at him. “Was this supposed apology going to involve you asking me to said ‘silly little ball’?”

“I…Well…” he stammered, his nervous eyes looking anywhere but at you.

You huffed as you whipped back around. Garreth called after you as you stormed away, but you didn’t stop that time.

Your anger continued to simmer through the end of exams on the 23rd. Normally, the Hogwarts Express would’ve been packed that evening as students headed home for the Christmas holidays. However, it was nearly empty that night. It seemed everyone else was as excited for the ball as you were – everyone except your boyfriend, that is.

You spent hours practising spells in the Undercroft that evening. Ominis found you down there. The smell of smouldering crates filled his nose immediately.

“Still upset with Garreth, I take it?” Ominis asked as he strode into the room.

“Yep,” you replied curtly.

“Are you going to stop talking to him forever over a dance?” he asked seriously, folding his arms as he leaned back against a blank stretch of stone wall.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not the dance. It’s that he knew how excited I was for it and still had no plans to attend it with me. It’s like he doesn’t care about what’s important to me.”

Ominis cocked his head to the side as he considered your words. “Have you explained that to him?”

Your jaw tensed. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Ominis pursed his lips, shaking his head slightly. “That’s a healthy way to handle it,” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t want to hear it, Mr. My Relationship is Soooo Perfect,” you groused. “You and Poppy both love dancing. It’s not fair.”

You crossed your arms in a huff.

Ominis smirked at the mention of his girlfriend. “Well, we are fortunate in that,” he said. “I’ll save a dance for you, tough, shall I?”

“That’d be lovely. It’ll be the only one I get,” you replied – admittedly, being a bit melodramatic.

Ominis snorted. “Right. Because people can only dance at a ball if they already have a partner.”

“Will you just let me sulk?” you snapped.

Ominis rolled his eyes. “You’ve been sulking all week, MC,” he pointed out. “I won’t let you ruin the ball for yourself.”

You sighed. He had a point. Just because Garreth was being an arse didn’t mean you shouldn’t try to enjoy the event you’d been looking forward to since the end of spring term.

The door to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory shut with a soft click. Leander stared at his best mate, lying face-down in bed on top of his sheets.

“I take it the grovelling didn’t go well?” he asked as he crossed the room to sit on the edge of his own bed.

Garreth mumbled incoherently into his pillow.

“Come again?” Leander said.

Garreth turned his head to the side, still lying boneless otherwise. “There was no grovelling,” he said. “She still won’t speak to me. Or listen. Or do anything but bolt the other direction when I spot her in the halls.”

Leander hummed sympathetically. “Did you try having Natty pass along your apology?”

“She refused,” Garreth said dismally. “Said I should apologise to her myself, even though that’s literally impossible seeing as MC won’t be in the same wing of the castle as me for more than five seconds. I don’t know what to do, Lee.”

Leander clicked his tongue. “That is a tough spot,” he said. “I suppose you do know one place you can definitely find her.”

“She hasn’t used the Room of Requirement all week. I checked with Deek,” Garreth argued.

“I was talking about the Yule Ball,” Leander said, rolling his eyes at his hopelessly thick friend.

Garreth pushed himself up on his arms so he could turn to look at Leander. “And how is embarrassing myself at a ball going to help anything?” he demanded.

Leander let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s really not that complicated, mate. She’s mad at you because you wouldn’t take her to the ball. So, go there and dance with her. After the grovelling. That bit’s still essential, trust me.”

“But I can’t dance,” Garreth argued.

Leander shrugged. “I’ll teach you.”

Garreth chewed his lip as he considered the option. “Okay…But what if she bolts the second she sees me? Or, worse, takes someone else to the dance?”

Leander pursed his lips. He had to admit that they were both quite plausible outcomes. “I’ll handle it.”

“How?” Garreth inquired.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You just focus on using the next 48 hours to make sure you won’t crush her toes when you finally dance with her.”

Garreth, still looking anxious, just nodded.

“Brilliant! Now, on your feet. I’m going to teach you to waltz,” Leander said.

Saturday morning, Leander caught you leaving your dorm for breakfast. “MC! Just the girl I wanted to see!” he said brightly as you descended the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever Garreth wants to tell me, I don’t want to hear it,” you groused, brushing past him.

“Actually,” Leander said as he caught your hand to make you stop, “I wanted to ask a favour.”

Your brow furrowed. You crossed your arms sceptically, but you made no move to dart away. “A favour?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

Leander gulped down his nerves as he nodded his head. “Well, I was…I was wondering if you’d go to the Yule Ball with me.”

You blinked rapidly as you processed his words. “Oh,” you said in surprise. “I would’ve thought you’d be going with Sebastian. You two have been dancing around each other for ages, after all.”

Leander sucked his teeth. “Yes, well, Violet beat me to asking him, evidently,” he explained with a rather sour expression. “So, I thought we might go together, since Garreth’s being a numpty. As friends, of course, but…also to make our boys a bit jealous, maybe.”

“You want to help me make Garreth jealous?” you asked in disbelief.

“Well, Garreth and Sebastian,” he replied. “Besides, I think he deserves it. He was a bit of a knob about the ball.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him for a long moment that had him starting to squirm. “Yeah, all right,” you agreed.

Leander beamed at you. “Brilliant! I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow night,” he said.

“See you then,” you replied.

Your Christmas morning was spent in the Gryffindor common room after Natty assured you that Garreth wasn’t down there. Almost the entire rest of your house was, though. There was a weight in your chest at not getting to celebrate with the man you loved – even if he was being a git. You also felt sorry for him that he was missing out on the festivities.

You didn’t see him the rest of the day, either. That night, you and Natty spent hours getting ready in your room. The mirror had nothing but compliments for the pair of you, and you were feeling quite good about yourself despite the recent tiff with Garreth. As such, you lingered in the common room early, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of you all dolled up. There might’ve been a part of you that wanted him to regret not spending that night with you.

He wasn’t there, though, and you began to wonder if he’d gone home for the rest of the holiday.

Your worrying was cut short when Leander emerged into the room. He smiled when he saw you. “You look beautiful, MC,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself,” you replied.

He straightened the lapel of his dress robes proudly. They were black with deep green paisley accents.

“We’re quite a festive pair,” you said, looking down at your ruby red gown.

He laughed. “Yes, well, I had been planning on taking a Slytherin,” he said lightly.

“True,” you replied.

Leander held his arm out to you. “Shall we?”

You nodded and took hold of it, winding your own arm delicately around his.

The Great Hall had been totally transformed. It was almost unrecognisable. Instead of the usual floating candles, bright orbs of light hung in the air like shining stars. The edges of the room were lined with pine trees, full of twinkling lights and glittering ornaments. Each tree was decorated for one of the four houses. The dais was almost entirely taken over by a massive tree decorated in glass ornaments of all four houses’ mascots, crests, and other staples – like a glass rendition of the portrait of the fat lady and the mermaids from the fountain in the Slytherin common room.

The ceiling was enchanted to have snow falling softly, though it vanished before reaching any of you. It was truly magnificent. Your only regret was that Garreth wasn’t there to experience it with you. Before you could properly mope on the subject, Leander whisked you onto the dance floor. It was almost impossible to stay wistful when you were sweeping around the Great Hall in a two step to lively music. Leander led gracefully, his hold on you firm and his movements fluid and sure. You glided through the other couples, almost constantly spinning. It was a wonder you weren’t dizzy.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” Leander observed.

“I can’t help but wish Garreth were here,” you admitted.

“I see,” he replied.

“Sorry,” you said sincerely. “I don’t mean to insult you. You’re a wonderful dance partner.”

“Just not the one you planned on having,” he said knowingly.

You gave him an apologetic smile.

“I can hardly fault you for that,” he said.

As the song faded to its end, he released your back to spin you around once more, turning you rather quickly before suddenly releasing your hand, as well. You stumbled to get your footing until two strong hands steadied you at your hips, holding you still.

Your head spun a bit from the sudden stop, lashes fluttering as you looked up to find your boyfriend was the one who had caught you.

“Garreth,” you breathed, momentarily forgetting to be angry. You were too surprised. Too relieved. Too caught up in the sight of him with his softly styled curls and perfectly tailored dress robes. He wore a crisp black shirt under a white satin waistcoat and matching bowtie. A deep red robe topped the look. His satin lapels were embroidered with vines matching the ones on his waistcoat. The colour of the robe was exactly the same shade as your dress.

Your arms hung uselessly at your sides as you gaped at him. He gave you a meek smile as he gazed longingly into your eyes.

“You look stunning, darling,” he said. “I’m not as light-footed as Lee, but I’d be honoured to dance with you.”

You realised that, while time had seemed to stop, it had in fact pressed on, and the band was now playing a waltz. Garreth lifted one hand off your hips and held it out to you. You just looked down at it, still processing how you had gotten in this situation. You glanced around in search of Leander, but he had vanished.

“What are you doing here?” you asked dimly.

Garreth’s smile grew nervous. “Making up with my girlfriend, I hope.”

He shifted anxiously as his hand still hung empty in the air between you. You stepped back, his other hand slipping off your hip.

“You said you didn’t want to dance with me,” you said accusingly, finally remembering that you were cross with him.

“I know. I’m sorry, but you’re so good at it. And I…I have two left feet. I thought it’d be worse to have you realise how dreadful I am than for you to just go by yourself,” he said, his hands retreating into his pockets. “I…didn’t want to embarrass you.”

He chewed his lip, as he often did when anxious. Your own lips parted as you stared at him in shock.

Evidently, you took too long to reply, because he started speaking again. “I know Leander and I can be a bit ridiculous sometimes. And I’ve had more than a few mishaps with potions in class – and it’s the thing I’m best at. I just…didn’t want to give you another reason to be ashamed of me.”

His gaze dropped to his feet as his hands fidgeted in his pockets.

“I’d never be ashamed of you,” you assured him, a bit offended that he’d think you would be.

“Really?” he asked, seeming genuinely surprised by the idea as he looked up at you in shock.

“Garreth, I love you. Every bit of you,” you stated. “Why on earth would I be ashamed of you?”

His cheeks flushed. “I mean, my family is,” he admitted, seeming to shrink into himself as his eyes darted away again. “And the professors seem perpetually disappointed in me. It’s twice as bad with Aunt Matilda.”

He forced out a laugh, but you could tell he was quite hurt by the situation.

You brought a hand up to his jaw, gently tilting his head up so he’d look at you. “Well, I think you’re brilliant,” you said. “And they have every reason to be as proud of you as I am, Garreth. You’ve invented half a dozen potions just since I’ve known you – and improved even more. You’re incredibly kind, even when others are mean to you. And you constantly make me laugh, especially when you and Leander are ‘being ridiculous.’”

He gave you a shy, appreciative smile before pulling you into a hug. “I love you, MC. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

You linked your arms around his back. “I’m sorry I didn’t just talk to you.”

He pressed a kiss into your pinned-up hair. “Me, too.”

You breathed out a laugh. “It was a pretty stupid fight when I think about it.”

“All our fights are stupid,” Garreth replied in an exasperated tone.

You pulled back to glare up at him. “Are you trying to start another one?” you asked in a low, warning voice.

Garreth smirked at you. “Maybe I like when you’re riled up,” he said cheekily. “You can’t wear a dress like this and expect me not to want to take it off of you, you know.”

“Garreth!” you hissed, smacking his chest as you glanced around to make sure no one had overheard him.

He pulled you back tight to him. “You really are especially gorgeous tonight,” he said in a low voice as his gaze roamed over you.

You could feel your cheeks heat under the fire in his eyes. “I…I think we should d-dance now,” you said, needing a distraction from the starved look in his eyes as they devoured you.

“Oh, um…” he said, suddenly nervous again. “I really only practised the waltz, so…maybe we could wait until they play another of those? I could get us some punch in the meantime.”

He had the most adorable hopeful smile on his face.

“Punch would be perfect,” you said sweetly.

“Done,” he said eagerly before darting off to fetch the drinks.

A blur of robes whirled over to you soon after. Leander had danced Sebastian over to where you stood. The latter’s black robes were a suspiciously similar style to the former’s – except his accents were red. Your fellow Gryffindor was looking exceptionally smug.

“Are my favourite lovebirds back in love?” Leander asked, waggling his eyebrows at you.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “For a Gryffindor, you’re a snake, Leander Prewett.”

“I’m so proud,” Sebastian said, placing his hand on Leander’s cheek and gazing at him fondly. Then, he turned to look at you. “When he asked if he could pretend to take you to the ball, I said yes at once, of course.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And what if we hadn’t made up?” you asked them severely. “What would you have done, then?”

Leander’s eyes widened as his smirk fell. He clearly hadn’t considered the idea.

“You two are too hopelessly besotted with each other for that,” Sebastian said easily, waving you off.

Garreth reappeared at your side then. “Here you go, love,” he said, handing you a glass before kissing your cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmured, a fresh blush dusting your cheeks.

“My work here is clearly done,” Leander said haughtily.

“I think you’re right, darling,” Sebastian agreed.

“Care to dance the night away?” Leander asked him, holding out his hand.

Sebastian beamed at him as he took it. “That sounds lovely,” he replied before they sauntered back to the dance floor.

Garreth leaned in to whisper in your ear. “See, that’s how you’re supposed to respond when a man asks you to dance,” he said teasingly.

“Oh, shut up,” you groused, but the words lacked any real bite.

“Never,” he retorted, a mischievous glint in his eye as you turned your head to glare at him.

He laced his fingers with the hand unoccupied by your drink.

“I have something for you,” he said.

You turned to face him. He dropped your hand and pulled a long, narrow box out from his pocket. It was too broad to be a wand but about the right length, and it had a gold ribbon tied carefully around it.

“Merry Christmas, MC,” he said softly.

Garreth traded the box for your drink. He was fidgeting as you examined it in your hands, clearly excited for you to open it. You carefully slipped the ribbon off before taking off the lid. Inside was a vibrant pink feather with a metal pointed tip.

Garreth started speaking before you could even thank him. “It took me a while to get the charms right. I just finished it up this morning, actually. It’s self-inking, so you don’t have to worry about an open inkpot spilling on your assignments. It’s spell-checking, too. That was the tricky part. But I got it sorted out, eventually. Promise.”

He laughed nervously. You were speechless for a moment as you looked up at him, warmth spreading through your chest as your heart squeezed with affection. Garreth bounced on the balls of his feet, the movement threatening to spill the glasses of punch in his hands. His bottom lip was grasped between his teeth, and a few stray curls were falling into his eyes.

You looked back down at the fwooper feather quill. “Garreth, this is so sweet,” you gushed, wondering how you’d managed to be upset with such a sweet man only a few hours ago.

His eyes lit up. “You like it?” he asked hopefully.

“I love it!” you assured him. “I have a gift for you, too, I just…I don’t have it with me.”

You left off adding that it was because you hadn’t expected him to be there. You didn’t want him to think you were still cross.

“All I wanted tonight is your forgiveness, MC,” he said with such earnestness that you worried you might melt right to the floor.

You brushed his hair out of his face. “You have it,” you replied, not wanting him to doubt it for a second. “Do you…do you forgive me, too?”

He ditched his punch on a tray floating nearby. He cupped his newly free hand over your cheek as he leaned in towards you, pressing his lips to yours gently in reassurance. He pulled back far too soon for your liking, though. “Always,” he vowed.

Your heart felt swollen to bursting. “I want to go get your present,” you said more intensely than the words merited as you reverently replaced the lid on the box.

“You don’t have to leave the dance. I know how much you were looking forward to it,” he said with such sweet consideration. You almost winced as you recalled calling him “inconsiderate” the other day. “You can give it to me tomorrow.”

“It should be now, I think,” you stated.

“It’s really not–” he started.

“It’s in the Room of Requirement,” you added, cutting him off. His brows drew together. He could tell you were trying to communicate something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Bless him, you thought. “You should come.”

A beat later his eyebrows shot up to his curls as realisation struck. You almost laughed when he just replied with a rather serious “yes” before quickly abandoning the other nearly-full punch glass on the tray.

He followed you out of the Great Hall. Once alone in the corridors, you clutched the box to your heart with one hand and laced the other with his. He lagged behind you as you tugged him along.

“Getting cold feet?” you joked, hoping to speed him up a bit.

“Just admiring the view,” he replied cheekily.

You glanced over your shoulder to find him staring down at your bum. He smirked at you when he saw that you’d caught him.

“You’ll have a much better one once you get this dress off me like you promised,” you said in a sultry tone.

In the flickering candlelight of the hallway, you could see Garreth’s eyes darken as he held your gaze. Then, he took off sprinting and called back impatiently, “Come on!”

You giggled as you chased after him. He slowed to a jog to let you catch up. You only paused briefly to take off your heels. When you reached the seventh floor of the Astronomy Tower, he was on you before the entrance had even fully materialised. He held your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, backing you into the forming door.

A needy ache started low in your stomach as he nipped at your bottom lip. You’d been without him for too long, stupidly holding a grudge over a simple misunderstanding about…something, surely. You couldn’t remember what now.

Garreth held you to him with a hand behind your back as his other felt blindly for the handle. His hold on you kept you upright as the door gave way behind you. Your heels slipped from your fingers and clattered to the floor as he backed you inside, and you tangled your now free hand in the base of his curls as you devoured his lips.

Your back smacked into the wall, and Garreth pressed himself against you. Your legs parted to allow him in closer, and you could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your centre. Your body tried to gasp and moan at the same time as he shifted his attention to your neck whilst his hips ground into yours. It was one of the most needy, pathetic sounds you’d ever made, but it seemed to spur him on even more.

“Fuck, MC,” he groaned into your neck before biting down on the skin where it met your shoulder.

Your legs almost gave out from the delicious sting of it. It hurt, but it brought a wave of pleasure, as well. You loved when Garreth was almost animalistic in his need for you.

Your head lolled to the side, opening up your neck to him further as you used your purchase in his hair to hold him close. You spotted the supply cabinet next to you, and you slipped the box containing your quill onto it before you lost yourself and dropped it.

You then slipped your hand between the two of you to palm the tent straining Garreth’s neatly pressed trousers. He shuddered at your touch and let out a breathy moan in your ear. You stroked your hand up and down the length of him until he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pinned it back against the wall.

“You’re going to ruin me early, you minx,” he growled.

You felt a jolt of excitement at the idea that just touching him over his trousers could have him so worked up. Before you could even contemplate how to get your hand free and back on him, he dropped your wrist in favour of grabbing a handful of your arse. At the same time, his lips rejoined yours in a dizzying kiss. You were pliant in his arms as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

Without breaking your kiss, Garreth rucked up your dress so his hand could slide under the fabric, skating up the outside of your bare thigh. He groaned as he hiked your leg up around him, pulling you even closer. His hips pressed forward into yours, seeking friction, and you gasped against his lips as his shaft pressed firmly at your centre. It put a delightful but maddening pressure on the bundle of nerves there.

“Garreth,” you moaned out. “Please.”

“Please what, love?” he replied breathily. His verdant eyes nearly burnt into you as he looked down at you with such love and earnest. “I’ll give you anything. Just name it.”

You groaned with need as your hips shifted against his, continuing to rub his shaft against your core in a way that sent sparks of pleasure through you. It wasn’t enough, though. “Please,” you repeated, feeling almost drunk with desire. “I need you.”

“Fuck,” Garreth muttered. The desperation in your voice was wearing away whatever self-control he had left – it was never much when it came to you anyway. “As you wish, love.”

His fingers danced over your skin and traced the edge of your knickers at the crease of your thigh. He dipped into them, stroking his long fingers between your folds and making you keen.

“Merlin,” he breathed out. “You’re drenched for me, darling.”

You moaned as the pads of his fingers came up and circled over your clit. Your head fell back against the wall with a dull thud, and you had to grip his shoulders for support as your legs began to tremble.

“You look really good in these dress robes,” you quipped, already panting from his ministrations. He knew your body well, and it never took long for him to work you into a right state.

Garreth smirked at you. “I’ll look even better in you, love.”

As he said the words, his finger slipped inside of you. He quickly found a spot that had a tension coiling low in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Garreth,” you keened. “Oh, gods! That f-feels so good!”

He took a handful of your skirts, pinning them against your stomach to leave your knickers exposed. Garreth dropped to his knees in front of you. You scrambled for new supports as you could no longer reach his shoulders. One hand scraped along the wall behind you while the other tangled into his curls.

“Evanesco,” Garreth said, his breath ghosting over your core. He watched his finger disappearing into you without the obstruction of your knickers. “So gorgeous.”

You could feel your face flushing at the praise. Garreth was quite keen on your intimate parts, and he always made sure you knew it.

He leaned forward and licked at your centre as his finger kept pumping into you. Garreth groaned even louder than you did. “Gods, you taste divine, darling,” he said before licking you again.

He kissed and sucked on your little nub, and you prayed your legs wouldn’t give out altogether. If they did, though, you were confident Garreth would catch you in time.

His tongue flicked over you eagerly, and the coil that had wound in your abdomen threatened to snap.

“Gar, I…I’m….” you tried, but then you couldn’t breathe let alone speak when your muscles tensed as you succumbed to utter euphoria.

You called out his name as waves of pleasure rocked through you, each sensation heightened as Garreth kept licking ravenously at you. You were practically convulsing from the intensity of your high. You might’ve felt embarrassed by your reaction if Garreth hadn’t looked so utterly enamoured with watching you fall apart so unreservedly.

About the same time, a loud crack rang out through the dimly lit room.

Garreth dropped your skirts and his head whipped around, his finger sliding out of you as he turned. You looked up blearily toward the noise, and your pleasure was immediately replaced with a shock of horror.

“Oh, dear!” Deek said, gaping at the two of you in such a compromising position.

Garreth blinked at the elf, whose eyes were wide and cheeks were reddening as he looked at the young wizard’s glistening face. You were too stunned and embarrassed to speak.

With a quick swish of his wand, Garreth calmed the erection that had been straining his outfit. He’d learned the spell early in your relationship, as you had a habit of riling him up at any number of inconvenient times – in class, during meals, before you left on some adventure. Essentially, any time he was around you, he was at risk, and the spell was easier than always donning oversized robes whose sleeves would dip into his cauldron when he tried to brew.

“Professor Weasley asked Deek to check on the students after they disappeared from the ball,” the elf said. He decided it was better to look at his feet than the pair of you. “She also asked Deek to remind Mr. Weasley that a child has not been born out of wedlock to your family in over a century and Mr. Weasley will not be changing that.”

Garreth, who has been furiously wiping off his mouth and chin, flushed crimson at that. “Right,” he said in a stilted tone, shifting nervously on his feet. “Is she expecting a…a report back?”

“Deek will not tell the professor what he, uh…stumbled in on,” the elf assured them. “But the students should return to the ball promptly. Deek does not want to have to come back.”

Another loud crack rang through the room as Deek left.

“Well, that was mortifying,” Garreth said as he rubbed at his temples.

“And you weren’t the one with your bits out,” you quipped as you fought the urge to bury your face in your hands. “At least Deek’s not going to tell your aunt.”

“Merlin, I half expect she’ll know anyway, to be honest,” he replied. He pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known we wouldn’t get away with slinking out of the ball like that.”

You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around him, as well. “I was the one who lured you up here,” you pointed out.

“I came quite willingly,” he argued.

You brought your hand down to palm him through his trousers again. “You didn’t come at all, unfortunately.”

Garreth moaned, dropping his forehead onto yours as you stroked him, rapidly undoing the work of his spell.

You bit your bottom lip as you locked eyes with him. “I don’t think we have time for you to make good on your promise to get me out of this dress, but…” You spun in his arms, pressing your arse back against him as you braced your hands against the wall. “I think we could still make it work.”

Garreth groaned. He grabbed your hips, pulling you tight against him. He smoothed one hand over your arse appreciatively before sliding it down to grip low on your skirts. He pulled the fabric up around your waist, so your lower half was completely bare to him. He immediately bent to place a lovebite on the curve of your cheek, while his hands kneaded into both of them. You moaned as his teeth grazed your skin.

“You ready for me, love?” he asked, his lips brushing the mark he’d just left.

“Gods, yes!” you replied eagerly, shifting your hips back a bit further in an attempt to entice him to get on with it already.

Garreth stood up straight again as he undid his trousers. He pulled himself free from the garments and wasted no time in dragging the head of his cock through your soaked slit. He anchored a hand on your hip as he slid into you.

He let out a ragged breath as he bottomed out. “You feel amazing!” he groaned. His other hand gripped your hips, as well, and he began thrusting in and out of you. “You’ve no idea how much I missed you, love!”

You wanted to argue – tell him you were sure you knew exactly how much, because you’d missed him, too – but you could only keen as he rocked you forward with each of his thrusts, filling you completely on every push inside. There was really nothing like it. He felt tailor-made for you.

You were so enraptured that you almost didn’t notice when a mirror appeared on the wall in front of you. You gasped in surprise as you looked up, catching sight of Garreth’s reflection. He winked at you.

“Fuck, I was right,” he panted, causing you to draw your brows together in confusion. “I do look even better inside you.”

You let out a laugh. He was utterly ridiculous, and it only made you love him that much more.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said with a cheeky smile, still pumping into you and also still holding your gaze through the mirror. “You look even better. I mean, gods, look at you! All done up.” He wrapped a hand gently around your throat, letting his thumb stroke up your jaw and across your painted lips. You parted them and sucked his thumb into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the pad of it like you would the underside of his cock. Garreth’s eyelids fluttered as he let out a low moan. “And in this dress…” He withdrew his thumb and fisted the same hand into the fabric pooled up near your ribs. “Your arse…” He gave it a squeeze, the tips of his nails just barely digging into your skin. “I fucking love your bloody gorgeous arse!”

His thrusts grew firmer, his hips slapping louder against your cheeks and thighs. You moaned as the force sent shocks of pleasure through you.

“Faster,” you begged, half because you knew it’d take a quicker pace to get him off and half (maybe more) because you wanted him to pound into you until your body held the memory of his cock inside you forever.

Garreth was keen to oblige. His grip on your hips was bruising as he slammed into you at a pace that had you barely able to keep your breath let alone even think about trying to keep up with his movements. All you could do was brace yourself on the wall as he took you.

“Ah, fuck!” Garreth groaned as you clenched hard around him. In the mirror, you could see that his head was thrown back in ecstasy. “So bloody perfect!”

His eyes snapped open, immediately locking with yours as his movements stuttered. He let out a strangled moan as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. You could feel the warmth dripping down as his semen started to leak out of you. Rather than pull out, Garreth leaned down over top of you to capture your lips. One arm wrapped around your stomach while the other hand tilted your chin toward him. You were both panting, unable to go without oxygen for long, but the brief kiss expressed the depth of your affections all the same.

“You’re never allowed to be cross with me again,” Garreth joked. “I can’t stand being apart from you for so long.”

You were inclined to vow he never would be as you stared into his bright green eyes, crinkling at the corners as he beamed at you.

“I can’t bear it, either,” you said.

Garreth pressed another chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you, MC. So much.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too. Even more.”

He glared at you playfully. “Those are fighting words, witch.”

Your smile turned into a smirk. “Then I’m lucky I’m a much better duellist.”

Garreth rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny it. Finally, he moved to right himself, sliding out of you before he helped you upright, as well. You both made quick work of making yourselves presentable – smoothing out your clothes, fixing your hair, and ensuring neither of you retained the sweat or musk of your recent activities. Garreth pouted a bit when you conjured new knickers for yourself, as he rather liked the idea of having easy access should you get the opportunity to sneak off again.

Once you were both put together, Garreth started for the door.

“Wait! I haven’t given you your present!” you said, quickly moving to rummage in your cabinet.

He chuckled. “I assumed you were the present.”

You glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. “That’d be rather selfish of me, wouldn’t it?”

Garreth grinned broadly. “Actually, I considered it quite generous.”

You rolled your eyes, but you did find it rather sweet. “Consider this a stocking stuffer, then,” you said as you handed him a small box.

Garreth opened it to reveal a stack of cardstock. His mouth fell open as he picked up one of the small, rectangular cards to get a closer look.

“I saw the logo in your notes, and I thought it was really good,” you explained. “I figured you’ll need these once we graduate.”

Garreth looked from the card to you and back down again. In golden, embossed lettering were the words Exquisite Elixirs in a large, curly font curved underneath a rendering of a cauldron whose whirls of steam were spiralling upwards off the paper. On the other side, there was a little portrait of Garreth and a description of his company.

He still hadn’t spoken, so you continued, “If you tap it with a wand, it turns into an order form. I know you plan on being able to fill orders by owl.”

He looked up at you again, and his eyes were misty now. He pulled you into a tight hug. “Thank you! These are perfect!”

Ever since he started the process to register the brand, his parents had seemed doubtful. They kept lecturing him on what a “serious business” it was to run a company. His older brother had a friend of his lecture him on the myriad permits and regulations involved in the brewing industry – all things Garreth had already learnt in his research and discussions with Mr. Pippin. His aunt had tried to convince him to take a year or two to apprentice at J. Pippin’s, but Garreth knew he didn’t need it. He’d spent ages at the shop picking the potioneer’s brain. He’d also hounded Sharp with his questions during his office hours – almost no one else went to them, anyway.

The business cards, aside from showing how closely you paid attention, indicated that you actually believed in him. That meant the world to Garreth, especially because he knew you weren’t scared to let him know when you thought an idea of his was foolish. You wouldn’t just go along with things to make him feel good. You truly thought that he could run a successful shop.

He slipped one of the cards into his pocket before tucking the box safely with the rest of his brewing supplies.

The two of you took the floo down to the Great Hall to save time. You slipped back into the ball and immediately noticed Professor Weasley’s scrutinising gaze on you. You resisted the urge to smooth your hair, as it would only incriminate you. Instead, you gave her a polite wave.

She waved back, but you didn’t like the knowing look her smile had. You flushed as you quickly pulled Garreth toward the drink table. You were practically dying of thirst. You ran into Natty and Poppy as Garreth poured you both drinks. They both looked stunning in their gowns. Poppy’s was yellow with cap sleeves and full skirts. Natty’s was a brilliant white with her sleeves to her elbows and a corset nipping in her waist before the flair of her bustle.

“I was glad to hear you and Garreth finally made up,” Natty said, smiling at you as you approached.

“Did Leander already tell you?” you asked.

“Ominis did,” Poppy said.

You raised an eyebrow. “How did Ominis know?”

“I know everything that happens in this castle,” the Slytherin said as he stepped up to Poppy’s side. He handed her a drink before wrapping his arm around her waist.

“So, Leander told you and you told them?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t need to be told anything,” Ominis said arrogantly.

Garreth returned with your drink, and you gave him an appreciative smile.

“I’m quite observant on my own,” Ominis continued. “Which is how I know you two have been up to no good. Couldn’t wait for dinner to find something to eat, Garreth?”

The redhead choked on his punch. “W-what?” he spluttered, wiping his mouth with a serviette a house-elf had promptly provided.

Poppy and Natty went wide-eyed as they caught Ominis’s meaning. Your face was burning. How could he know? Had Deek told?

“Don’t be coy now,” Ominis teased. “It’s quite obvious. I could – ahem – smell her on you when we were getting drinks. I wouldn’t hug your aunt without cleaning up if you don’t want detentions until you graduate.”

Poppy clapped a hang over her mouth to keep from giggling. Natty looked horrified. You and Garreth both gaped at Ominis. You had checked before you left the Room of Requirement. You swore you couldn’t smell anything that would suggest what the two of you had been up to in there. But, then, Ominis often heard things you couldn’t. Maybe it was the same with his sense of smell? At any rate, you were never going to live this down.

“I think they’re playing a waltz,” Garreth said, turning to you. “How about that dance?”

You downed your drink and took hold of his outstretched hand. “That sounds like a great idea,” you replied.

“Leave room for the nargles!” Ominis called after you before snickering with Poppy.

You made it onto the dance floor and were quickly lost in the crowd of swirling couples. You hid your face in Garreth’s chest, but you couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, gods, I think this is officially the most mortifying night of my life,” you said light-heartedly once you’d composed yourself.

Garreth started to spin you as you danced now that you weren’t burying your face in his robes.

“I think we’d best get our own place once we’re out of this castle full of nosy gits,” he said resolutely.

You let out another laugh. “Yeah, living together unwed wouldn’t have people talking at all,” you said sarcastically.

Garreth lifted his hand, and you turned under it before stepping back into his arms. “It would, wouldn’t it?” he said, giving you a knowing smile.

You gave him a questioning look in return.

“I’m not about to propose on – as you put it – ‘the most mortifying night of your life’ if that’s what you’re thinking,” Garreth said severely as he continued to lead you around the dance floor. “But if I were to…?”

“Were to what?” you replied, playing thick, as he dipped you.

“Were to propose, obviously,” Garreth said, exasperated, before pulling you back up. “What would you think of it?”

As you did another turn, you suppressed a smile that threatened to break onto your lips. “Are you, then?” you asked before clarifying, “Proposing?”

“Not yet,” he replied with an easy smile as he stepped forward to take you back in his arms.

“Then I’m not telling,” you stated, a hint of a sly smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Garreth rolled his eyes at you. “You vex me, witch,” he said drily.

“I just know you like surprises,” you replied innocently.

“Good ones,” he clarified.

 “Exactly,” you said, winking at him.

A broad grin spread on his face, and he seemed lost in thought as he stared over your shoulder as the two of you spun slowly around the room.

You snapped him out of it when you said seriously, “This isn’t about that message from your aunt, is it? You haven’t been skipping your potions?”

“No, of course not. I take them every week,” he said. “You?”

“Every month,” you assured him.

“That’s so not fair,” he groused. “Why are the contraceptives for blokes four times as often?”

“We’ll see what’s ‘not fair’ when I’m the one carrying our babies for nine months each,” you retorted.

Garreth smirked at you. He looked insufferably smug.

“What?” you bit out, not seeing the humour in all the hardships that were sure to come with your future pregnancies.

“You said ‘when,’” he pointed out.

“Huh?” you replied, befuddled.

“You said, ‘when I’m the one carrying our babies,’” he said, doing a poor – and rather screechy – imitation of your voice.

You smacked him on the chest. “I do not sound like that,” you groused.

Garreth’s grin grew even wider. He looked utterly chuffed. “But you did say it. ‘When’ and ‘our.’ You want to have my babies.”

“Shut up,” you said tetchily, trying to pull out of his arms so you could go dig a hole to crawl into.

Garreth just held you tighter, laughing at your attempts to wriggle free. “You want to marry me and have my babies, and I’m happy to oblige, love. You just tell me when.”

You froze as you gaped at him. “Did you just–?”

“Officially? No. I’m still not letting you tell our children I proposed on the most mortifying night of your life,” he said seriously.

“There is very little about this night fit to tell any children, let alone our own,” you quipped.

Garreth gave you a lopsided smile. “Yeah,” he said wistfully. “It’s been a good one.”

You shook your head at him. “You’re incorrigible,” you said disapprovingly.

He stared at you like you were as luminous as one of the twinkling lights floating above you. “You’re incredible,” he said fondly before dipping his head to kiss you.

You melted in his arms as Garreth held you tight to his chest.

“Oi! Get a room, you degenerates!” Leander said, bumping Garreth’s shoulder as he twirled by with a sniggering Sebastian.

“That’s not as effective as you might think!” Garreth called back, making you laugh.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 10: The greatest nightmare

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Moldy Voldy is back bitches, now the real shite show begins. A/n: So I'm gonna take a couple weeks off before posting year 5, just to give myself some time to further develop the story and so I don't get burned out lol. Next chapter will be posted 2nd of July [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You're hesitant to knock on the headmaster's door. But the door swings open before your knuckles can make contact with the door.

Professor Dumbledore sits behind his desk, half-moon glasses down his nose. "Ah, Miss Black. For what do I owe the pleasure?" The Headmaster rises as you enter the office. He motions for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and you obey.

"Liquorish snap?" Dumbledore holds a bowl with black droplets for you to take, but you politely decline.

"No thank you, Sir. I've uhm... I've come to suspect something is happening, Sir." With a motion from Dumbledore, you continue; "I've this weird feeling. It's dark and festering inside me, down to my bones. And when I saw Professor Karkaroff's Dark Mark and heard him speak about it burning, it confirmed my suspicions. The Dark Lord is returning, Professor."

Dumbledore drops his back against the back of his chair, his hands clasping the armrests. "Are you one hundred per cent sure? Do you know when he will return?"

You frown and look down at your hands. "I do not, Sir. But I am terrified. Terrified of what will happen once he does return. What will happen to me?"

Dumbledore hums, stroking his beard. "I am afraid I do not have an answer, Miss Black. The only thing I can tell you is that Hogwarts is always your home."

You sigh. Great, so nothing can be done at all. And it's not like you can stay at Hogwarts during the summer.

Having told what you needed to tell and getting nowhere, you stand up from the chair. "Thank you for your time, Professor. I'll have to go, otherwise, I'll be late for History of Magic."

"Of course, have a nice day, Miss Black." Dumbledore waves you out of his office, a hand massaging his forehead.

You slip just in time into the History classroom and take your usual spot, which is next to Blaise. He gives you a glance and a nod before turning his attention back towards Professor Binns. It's the only class you have with just Blaise.

Today you're learning about the Goblin Rebellion of 1890, which was led by Ranrok. It was said a Fifth-year student with the help of a professor defeated the rebellion.

As Professor Binns' ghost drones on about the ways Ranrok and Rookwood helped each other, Blaise leans over. "How are you and Theodore doing?"

It makes you turn your head towards the taller boy. "Okay? I guess? Why are you asking?"

"Well... the two of you seem awfully close since Christmas break, I only assumed you and him made it official."

You frown. Did you and Theodore grow closer? You guess... but it's not that much different than before the break. Sure, he hangs around more and you actually enjoy his company now, rather than before. But that's because you're friends.

"We're just friends, Theo and I." 

"Theo?", Blaise licks his lips and looks at you incredulously, "yeah- just friends. Sure. Theodore jinxes anyone else to hell and back if they dare to call him by anything other than his name."

You glance at the Professor — who keeps droning out his lecture, unbothered by the many sleeping students. "That can't be true. You are all just too wimpy to do it. And besides, Theodore isn't that intimidating."

A laugh escapes Blaise, which makes Professor Binns stop briefly in his story before continuing. "You've never been on the receiving end of his hard stare. He has always been soft for you." 

You roll your eyes. "We haven't spoken to each other before this year."

"He's always been too intimidated to approach you. Your family's reputation proceeds you."

You glare at him. Of course, your family is the problem. They are always the problem. 

Blaise flicks your wrist with his fingers. "Hey now, don't give me that look. You should be happy anyone told you."

"Why are you even telling me? Aren't you also in the race to win my hand or whatever?" You fold your arms over each other and slump down in your seat.

Now it is Blaise that rolls his eyes. "Originally. That was until she found out your lot still supports You Know Who."

He refers to his mother, obviously. Miss Zabini is truly a beautiful witch, but something about her is off. At least, that was the one time she was introduced to you. Maybe it was the party filled with Death Eaters.

"I don't blame her", you mutter. You wouldn't want your son to marry into a family of crazy blood supremacists.

The remainder of the class is spent in silence. Blaise has nothing to say and your thoughts are running wild. If what Blaise says is true and Theodore has been quote-unquote 'interested' in you for quite some time... Why? What made him? If you never interacted, what pulled him to you?

You only notice that class is over by Blaise getting up and packing his bag. You snap out of your thoughts and collect your ink and quill, stuffing it in your book bag.

"You're coming to the stands with us?", asks Blaise as he points over his shoulder towards the general direction of the final task. 

You shake your head. "I'm going to the library and finish an essay I have yet to finish. I'll come later."

Blaise nods wordlessly and turns around, loosening his tie and stuffing it in his bag. 

You don't actually need to finish an essay, you just need to have some alone time. And you're glad you took it, because once you reach the tribunes of the final task, people are talking loudly, cheering, and there is a band playing. You spot Draco and his friends and go to stand with them.

Looking around, you see Gjol and his friends standing with Durmstrang and the both of you wave to each other. You also spot Hermione and give her a small smile.

"You've just missed the send-off", says Theodore as he makes room for you to stand next to him. 

You hum. "So we're supposed to just stand and wait here?"

Theodore nods. You let out a huff and go sit on the edge of the tribune behind you. That earns a laugh from the dark-haired boy and he goes to sit next to you. "You've just got here, why are you already sitting down?"

"I am not going to stand for who knows how long waiting for someone to show up with the cup to end the stupid thing."

Theodore chooses to stay silent and the two of you sit next to each other, listening and participating in the conversations around you.

The first thing that happens is a red spark rising up from somewhere in the maze and Fleur gets pulled from the competition. Next to getting dragged out of the maze is Victor, who looks weird. 

Finally, it is between Harry and Cedric. There are no red sparks or anything coming out of the maze, so they're probably lost somewhere.

Suddenly, a cold-like grip travels up your spine and grabs your throat, making you gasp. You reach for Draco's arm. At first, he looks at you annoyed but when he sees the panicked look on your face, his own quickly morphs into that of concern.

"Are you okay?" Draco crouches down so he's at eye level

You shake your head, blood drained from your face and eyes wide. Without knowing exactly what the feeling is, you know what it means. "I felt it..."

"Felt what?", inquires Draco, grabbing your shoulders to stop your shaking.

"He's back."

At that moment, appears Harry with Cedric out of nothing. The elder boy lies limp on the ground. Harry's bent over Cedric, his shoulders shocking. And he says the words you've been dreading your whole life.

"He's back! He's back! Voldemort is back!"

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127

[lostdrarryfics]

lostdrarryfics monthly roundup! June 2024

Below you will find the requests we could not locate in the month of June. Please let us know if you recognize any!

You can also browse our lengthy lost fic masterlist, where we have compiled every request we have been unable to find over the past few years. We're always hoping someone will recognize a fic so we can let the asker know what it was!

1. I read a fic 10-15 years ago about 8th year drarry and their bedroom doors were linked with the person who matched them sexually (obvs drarry matched) it wasn’t on ao3 it was on some old fic website that was a dark green colour. It was deffo an explicit fic.

2. looking for a drarry fic that is also multiple pairings. i read it on ao3, i think 3+ years ago and have been trying to find it since. it's at hogwarts after i think fifth year? harry finds out that students have orgies in the room of requirements, i think its called the five o club or something similar-club, he joins one time and there he fucks draco, the twins, i think also cedric and cho and some others

3. I read it on ao3 and it was fairly long if that helps. It's a fic set after the end of the war, where Draco has gone missing out of the country, Harry finds him living with a group of muggle ocs somewhere, in some sort of shelter, with no memories of his past, not even recalling his name. For most of the fic he's even called by a different name, though I cant remember which

4. I think this fic was fairly known i guess. It was a multi chapter fic. It was set in Hogwarts ( I am not sure if this was the 8th year or not but they were surely not kids). Ron once said that in wizarding world people don't care about gender or sexuality. And that all wizards have a little bit of gayness or poof in them. ( I don't remember the exact wording). Ron also said so we're that draco is pretty and they on care if the person is pretty or not (like not their gender). Hermione and draco have become friends and they were in library talking when Ron came and saw them and he was angry (not too much). Seeing this draco got up and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek ( he did this with his friends as well, first time he did this to hermione it was an accident). But Ron stopped him by grabbing him from behind and draco just seductively looked over him from his lashes and said Ron. He was then quickly released and gave Hermione one more kiss before going. Ron was then sitting on the table. When Hermione asked him if he was hard () and then started to comfort him like it's fine etc and Ron is just embarrassed and draco is listening to all of this hiding behind a bookshelf. After hearing this he left the library smiling a little. Harry in this fic i am not sure if he thought being gay was bad or not but I remember somewhere that they(trio) were talking about sexuality and muggle saw it as bad and something like this

5. fic where draco referred to the death eaters as "his fathers strange guests" and refused to acknowledge voldy. He mentioned them as having questionable fashion tastes and strange tattoos lol. And everytime harry tried to talk to him about it he would deflect.

FOUND! 6. it was a near direct au of captive prince or perhaps just inspired by so the setting is like foreign fantasy land (do not believe there was magic). it was pretty long, harry was the captured one (for leading a rebellion or such like) and i feel he was often described kinda brutish and draco was described very fair skinned (oppressor cough cough) and etheral perhaps. Definitely was mature or explicit in rating with some detailed sex.

[kestis-advent]

I usually don't post my fics here, but I'm sort of proud of these two, so I'll share them. I love both TMR and THG so I wanted to mix both and give it my owm twist. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

In the seventy-fifth year of the Hunger Games, the inevitable Quarter Quell is to be commemorated. Victors will be reaped back into the chaos, and new tributes will join them in the turmoil of the games.

As the spark of rebellion ignites in the background, and an old disease returns to haunt the Capitol. New friendships will be forged, sides chosen, and the fate of the mockingjay will be determined by allies and foes.

Welcome to the third Quarter Quell, welcome to the revolution, welcome to the seventy-fifth Hunger Games!

The seventy-five-year reign of the Hunger Games comes to a halt after the assault in the arena and the start of the rebellion. While warfare rages in the Districts and Katniss tries to find her place amidst the chaos and her imposed role as the symbol of the rebels, Thomas and his group must find a way to fulfill their end of the bargain and, hopefully, survive until they reach the Capitol, where the promise of a cure for the Flare might reside for Newt and the rest.

The Gamemakers will hunt them, friends might turn out to be foes, and allies might hide more than they know.

Welcome to the end of tyranny, to the horrors of war, welcome to the revolution!

[ravioliage]

My Rook stuff, don't mind me. I think I'm happy with her backstory now.

- Was part of Sabrae clan, same as Mahariel. Because I love circles. We end where we began.

- Got separated from her clan some time before the Fifth Blight when she was like 9, had to survive on her own in the wilderness and hide from templars. Hence why no vallaslin. Remembers Mahariel and Tamlen very fondly.

- Zevran did an oopsie, leading more Crows to Ferelden. Those Crows snatched her up and dragged her to Antiva to be sold to a House, because Mahariel convinced them that Zevran was dead and there was no going back empty handed.

- She escaped them when they arrived in Antiva, and pissed them off the way she did it because children say stupid things. And steal.

- Spent a few years traveling around the country and hiding, while those Crows hunted for her constantly. What she stole covered a lot of expenses.

- There was further struggle as 1) elf 2) mage 3) language barrier 4) like 12 years old at this point made it difficult to find food and shelter. Especially in pre-mage rebellion times.

- Eventually made her way to Treviso, in awful shape. Viago noticed rival Crows who caught up with her pecking at this sick dying stray cat on his doorstep. So he killed them and took her into De Riva.

- She already had great survival, stealth, and pilfering skills from life. She just needed to get better at murder. She decided on the name Eris to start this new life. Her old name lost to time.

- Crow training was torture, but her spite and vengefulness got her through it. I imagine she sees a lot of herself in Jacobus later on.

- Definitely met Lucanis once or twice before the main story, but he was clean shaven and didn't have a mullet and was over a decade younger. Knife Incident happened, and she witnessed Viago staring at a knife for 3 hours one day in complete silence. Then he swore to never let those two ever meet.

- That worked out great, buddy.

- I imagine there was some friction with how her life has been and why the fuck does Lucanis not only have an opera house but a separate mansion just for guests on top of the regular mansion. These goddamn rich people.

- Rest is history. By Veilguard she's in very early 30's. Don't want to do math.

[whinlatter]

Cho Chang for the random character ask: 4, 9, 12, 27, 43

cho! this was actually so fun to think about. cho is an underrated character and a boss bitch and i for one have relished the opportunity to think more deeply about her, so cheers for that anon! (i'm merging the other ask i got about cho with this one for a bumper cho post)

1. Canon I outright reject

i do not tend to outright reject canon because i am a boring yawn canon compliant girlie but i will say i find it weird to think that cho would be randomly checking/carrying her DA coin on the night that harry just happens to arrive back at hogwarts in DH. it’s not even for plot it’s just for the ensemble vibes. pointless cameo sorry! the whole point of failed high school romances is to never resolve them and just memory block them out for all eternity until you bump into them in the veg section at the big supermarket when you go home for christmas and make awkward small talk then see them again at the checkouts and want to die

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

part of the reason cho was so (understandably) distraught after cedric's death was because of a dynamic in their relationship of cho revering/idolising cedric that only deepened after his death as he became somewhat canonised in popular memory. when they got together, cedric was a seventh year and cho was a fifth year. often when you're 15/16 you definitely look at 17-18 year olds like they're the coolest people on the planet and you're lucky to be in their orbit basking in their great worldly wise glory (lol). and while i’m not doing up age-gap-is-problematic-discourse i am saying that if you're in the last year of school and your mate starts going out with someone two years below who is doing their GCSEs or whatever you do a) obviously take the piss out of them but more importantly b) tend to see a pretty big gap in maturity and life experience that often adds a weird power differential in the relationship. that's not to say that cho didn't really miss cedric's company, but also that the grief was made worse by the fact that she likely saw him as a saint-like figure she was in awe of, a view that only received mass endorsement after dumbledore's eulogy of cedric, so she's not even really able to mourn a real person, but just the idea of someone purely heroic and good who she will never be able to replicate again

4. Favorite line

“He asked me out, you know,” she said in a quiet voice. “A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though.”

in this house we stan 👏 petty 👏 queens 👏

or...

“What about your parents?” asked Harry. “Well, they’ve forbidden me to get on the wrong side of Umbridge too,” said Cho, drawing herself up proudly. “But if they think I’m not going to fight You-Know-Who after what happened to Cedric —”

actually huge props for cho for joining a resistance fight club with no parental support for anti-ministry action. because in canon you have the weasleys whose parents are so politically involved, and whose sense of political right and wrong is (bar percy) so instinctual because it's how they were raised, it can be easy to overlook how significant it is when other characters who don't come from that family background/political lineage get involved in risky acts of open rebellion. like yes her defence of marietta is misguided, but cho is a boss bitch who lets her grief be fuel for a good fightback and i for one applaud it

8. Unpopular opinion about them

ok this is going to sound like me doing up pure ginny defender but for all ginny gets slated for having many a jealous moment (including with cho in DH) i do think it is Interesting that people overlook how insanely jealous cho is of hermione lol. i do like that element of cho's character - or rather, think it lets her be well-rounded and interesting, giving an insight into how the trio are perceived by other members of the student body, but also allows cho have this messy petty teenage side to her (people often tend to write her in fic as this very worldly mature grieving widow figure, instead of like, a girl going thru it and wildly acting out emotionally and developing a whole host of insecure abandonment issues that are mostly to do with her grief). but i love how she like sees red and goes full how many girls are you meeting after me!!! alexa play bust your windows!!! i am going to storm out and YOU are going to pay for these coffees!!! so yeah, my unpopular opinion is cho is petty and messy and obviously harry fucks up more but she does kind of act up and you know what, that's fine! she's still worthy of the world! (you know all i do is ride on my let girls giggle and be messy crusade)

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

i stan the temper tantrum cho has when she loses the quidditch final. go girl have your strop! she’s just like me fr

12. Crack headcanon

cho's gang of girlies wore potter stinks badges in the dormitory after that horrendous date to cheer her up. and she was like yeah you know what! he does!

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

ohhh man i am going to have to pass on this because i literally cannot name any smells. she's too prestige and gorgeous to not smell lovely though!

28. How they feel about insert character of your choice from the same fandom

i am kind of obsessed with a cho vs ginny bitter rivalry that doesn't actually have all that much to do with harry lol. cho is two school years older than ginny (given ginny is an end-of-august birthday baby, cho fully could be three years older than her, given hermione is two calendar years older than ginny and is only in the year above). so ginny is a little pipsqueak irrelevance to cho, whereas i expect cho lives in ginny's head rent-free while she's still in the throes of her deep unrequited crush on harry. then ginny goes out with michael, cho's teammate, and is in the DA, so probably is around a lot more, maybe they're semi-friendly, all going fine - until ginny pops up for the quiddich final in ootp and publicly demolishes cho on the quidditch pitch. can you imagine being a (almost or actual) seventeen year old getting the snitch snatched from under your nose by gryffindor's fourteen year old second-rate substitute seeker (especially after a year of playing badly?) i'd be fuming. no wonder cho cries and chucks her broom on the ground. so then ginny chucks michael for being a 'sore loser' (i think this must have also been a bit connected to cho, if all ravenclaw are having a great big public sulk lol), and then michael immediately gets with cho (canon implies that evening lmao). even if ginny didn't care about michael all that much, there is something pretty galling about your ex moving on to your sporting rival an hour after you break up lmao, and something very messy from cho to try and get back at the girl who just beat you by immediately hooking up with her ex lol. you can just imagine michael and cho bitterly slagging off ginny in between snogs at that post-match commiseration party. and then the following year, when ginny beats cho again, in a match cho 100% viewed as a re-match and a chance to finally best the person who humiliated her... i'm just saying, those two hate each other (at least as teenagers) and it doesn't even really involve harry lol. and i for one love it!

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise

i am also bad at questions like these i'm so sorry 🫣 literally have no world/character-building capabilities to imagine people's favourite anythings. i do like the idea of cho being thoroughly unimpressed by the quality of the hogwarts cooking though! do i back a fleet of house elves living out their days in a castle in the scottish highlands to know their way around any kind of asian cuisine? no i do not. cho would have every right to fume

[skkfujoshi]

I hate your stupid face

Mori sighed.

“Chuuya,this is the fifth time that we had to stop.” “…I know,dad.I’m sorry.”

What Mori had omitted was that it was the fifth time they failed to activate Corruption today.

It was the twenty fifth time this week and the forty fifth time this month.Yes,Chuuya counted.

He had even started on how many failed attempts there were per the past year but gave up on it once it got past a hundred.

“We can try again?”he weakly offered “Take a break,Chuuya.”Mori said,rubbing his temples 

The exhaustion in his tone didn’t make the annoyance come through any less,unfortunately.Still,Chuuya did as he was told,followed in toe by Dazai.

~

“I really don’t get what the big fuss is about.”Dazai said halfway to their room. “Huh?” “With you using corruption,I mean.It’s just two verses,Chuuya.Just say those and we’re done.You’re really making a mountain out of molehill.”

Chuuya turned to look at his partner,mouth agape.

“What did you just say!?” “That you’re making a big deal out of nothing.” “Out of nothing?!Out of nothing?!”

Dazai nodded casually,leaving Chuuya even more affronted.

The audacity of this asshole…

Chuuya ran his hand over his face,taking a deep breath.Maybe…Just maybe ,Dazai was just ignorant.

“Dazai…You do realize I’d be in immense pain,right?”

That was probably the best way he could make Dazai understand.Chuuya had seen him cringe away from needles and whine from his nudge in the ribs often enough.

“Yeah but you also don’t have any control of yourself in that state do you?” “Yes,but-“ “Which means you won’t remember anything.” “True,but still-“ “So you won’t feel the pain when it’s a it’s worst.” “…” “Look,I get it.You’re scared of losing control,hurting the people you love…Blah,blah,blah whatever.But you need to get over-“

Before Dazai could finish the thought a knife flew at the side of his head,a few tufts of brown hair falling to the floor.

“Get over it!?Get over it!?How about you and my father get over trying to unleash the thing that will possibly destroy this entire city!?How about that!?How about you two think about what that feels like!?” “Chuuya-“ “It’s so easy for you to say all that isn’t it!?With your ability that barely even fucking counts!Well,I suggest you enjoy it far away from me!”Chuuya yelled

Before Dazai could say anything more,Chuuya grabbed one of the pillows and launched it at Dazai, “Upon the tainted sorrow “ at full force.Unfortunately the bastard dodged,causing the pillow the damage the wall,leaving behind a huge crack.

“You fucking psycho!You could’ve killed-“

Before Dazai could finish,Chuuya slammed the door and used his ability to barricade it with the bed.

“Fine!Be a brat if you want!I don’t need you for my next mission anyway!Go sulk if you want!See if I care!” “Shut up and go already then!The faster the better I say!” “Fine!” “Fine!”

Chuuya heard Dazai’s steps quiet down after a few minutes and threw himself onto the bed.

Stupid suicidal maniac,what did he know?Nothing,absolutely nothing!How dare he say…Chuuya shut his eyes and turned to lay on his back instead.

Dazai had no idea…Not even his father did.The pain he was in after using corruption for the first time.What did they know?

Chuuya threw his arm over head.God,were the lights in this room always so damn bright and blaring?

He groaned.

He needs a break…An actual break.He could go to one of the Flags’ apartments and spend the rest of his day there but…Usually when Mori told him to take a break it didn’t mean for the whole day.

Chuuya probably had some meeting to attend to with Kōyo or he had to take Elise shopping or something like that.And he really wasn’t in the mood for either.

…Why should he then?His father could survive one day without him.Besides,Chuuya was 15,some teenage rebellion ought to be expected!Last time he snuck out for the good of the organization,but no more!This was for him.

Granted…Last time he wasn’t exactly an official member so he didn’t have the chip inside him…

He took a look at his wrist and traced over it.Apparently it was put on or rather into all the minor member,removed once they turned 18.

It wasn’t exactly deep inside,so it wouldn’t be too difficult to remove.

Chuuya got off the bed,putting it back in its usual place and shoving a bunch of pillows under the blanket,arranging them so that they would resemble how Chuuya looked when he slept.Once that was done,he made his way over to the bathroom.

One of the benefits of working in the mafia was that your bathroom cabinet tended to be a bit more expansive than the average person’s on the account of regular serious injury.

Chuuya took out a thread and needle,a knife,a pair of tweezers and bit down on the collar of his shirt before getting to work.

-

“Dazai can I ask you something?” “Yes Mori,once you’re done patching me up I’d love a bubble bath and some tea.Oh,also,a bowl of crab.”

Mori sighed.

“It’s about my son.” “Yes,I do think he’s really ugly.” “Where is he,Dazai?”

Dazai hummed in thought.

“Last time I checked his tracker he was in our bedroom.He’s probably still there,sulking.” “Is he now?”came a young girls voice from behind them

Dazai turned,narrowing his eyes at Elise as she exited the elevator,a bratty pout on her face.She walked over,notably staying out of Dazai’s grabbing distance and tossed a bloodied tracker onto Mori’s desk.

“Wanna try answering again,Osamu?”Mori asked

Dazai shrugged,starting to get a bit more annoyed now.

“I don’t fucking know then.I’m not his babysitter.” “Then you better find out.”Elise said “Why should I?This was all Mori’s idea anyway.Speaking of,boss,why even bother with it in the first place?Chuuya already has a pretty damn good grasp on his ability as far as I’m concerned.Besides,guns exist for a reason.”

Mori rubbed his temples as Elise rolled her eyes.

“Osamu,we are a powerful organization but there are many stronger than us.You can’t allow yourself to be so close minded.” “…” “I don’t intend to use it often,but we must have it as a last resort.Something which will be impossible if Chuuya doesn’t get use to activating it.” “…” “Do you understand now?”

Dazai nodded.

“So,what did you tell him?”

Dazai wasn’t afraid of Mori,not really.Frustrated by his unwillingness to follow through on giving Dazai that poison?Yes.But he was never afraid.However,to be honest about what he said to Chuuya to a man who had an at least 20 person long body count was just stupid.

So he adjusted the truth a bit.

“I just told him I didn’t understand why he was making such a big thing out of corruption.I mean,it’s not like he’ll be forced to deal with it alone.I was right there and he knows I can nullify it.” “And so you pushed him till he exploded.Clearly we’re dealing with genius here.”Elise remarked 

Dazai straightened up in his seat.

“Hey Elise,wanna see what I can do with my middle-“ “Dazai.”Mori said sharply “…” “You’ll get him back.” “And if I don’t manage?”

Smiling warmly,Mori put his hand over Dazai’s and squeezed.Hard.

Dazai licked at his gums,blinking  an appropriate number of times even as Mori’s bony thumb dug in.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”he said letting go at last”And Elise will be coming with you.” “You do realize I can just-“ “Nullify her?Well aware,but if you do I’ll assume you a deserter.Which would also make you a traitor.” “…” “And as you know our treatment of those who betray is neither quick or painless.”

After a beat of silence Dazai stood up and turned heel with a sigh.

“Fine…Put your shoes on,brat.We’re heading out.”

Overall AU info post

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