#*hands you a bottle of felix felicis* good luck : )

[yerimacoustic]

𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 ♡ 𝙨. 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙥𝙨 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

summary: you, the head girl of the ravenclaw house, realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew when you take part in a risky challenge with your arch nemesis, seungcheol. 📚🧺🥀

content warnings: academic rivals to implied lovers, hogwarts!au, gryffindor!s.coups and ravenclaw!reader, you’re both head boy and head girl of your houses, banter, banter and more banter (i did my best with it okay), light swearing, kissing, not proofread (sorry besties) 9.8k wc.

note: this took me wayyyy too long but i’m cooking another idea for a fic for a certain seventeen member, so i’m trying to get back into the swing of things <3

“doesn’t it look beautiful?” professor slughorn gazed at the tiny vial resting on his desk, just barely out of reach from the rest of the students. although you had an inkling of what the contents in the bottle really were, you felt just as confused as the rest of your peers.

your best friend, irene was the first to speak up, “professor, what exactly is it?” 

“thank you for asking. what you see before you is a curious little potion known as felix felicis. otherwise known as-“ 

“liquid luck,” you chimed in with a voice behind you just barely beating you to the punch. you knew who it was without turning your head back: choi seungcheol. typical. he was always trying to outshine you. 

ever since the two of you had been selected as prefects for your houses, gryffindor and ravenclaw, he seemed hellbent on making your life miserable. you two seemed to constantly be competing. whether it was for the house cup, who would be the top of the class, even who managed to get their students into bed with all the lights out first. it only got worse when the two of you were selected to be in the slug club, seeing a lot more of each other as a result. 

unfortunately, slughorn seemed to catch onto your rivalry rather quickly and while he never acknowledged it out loud, there were several instances where he seemed to be fanning the fire.

“yes, that is correct, y/n and seungcheol. liquid luck.” professor slughorn lifted the glass from desk, holding it on display for everyone to see more clearly. “desperately tricky to make, disastrous if you get it wrong. however.. one sip and you will find that all of your endeavors will succeed. well.. until the effects wear off.”

you tilted your chin up while trying to hide a mischievous grin from your classmates. you pondered everything you could achieve from one mere sip of the rare potion- you could pass all of your exams with flying colors, you could finish all of your projects in record time.. the possibilities were endless! 

unfortunately, you weren’t the only one chasing good fortunes. seungcheol knew if he led the gryffindor’s team to another consecutive victory, he would be a shoe-in for the holyhead harpies. after all, what was more impressive than leading your time to a winning season four years in a row? he could picture professor dumbledore handing him the house cup clear as day- surely his career in quidditch would only skyrocket from there. 

just as both of you pondered how you would be able to get your hands on such a remarkable potion, slughorn clapped his hands, “now, usually every student in my class gets the opportunity to compete for the potion. this year we are doing things a little differently: the two students with the highest grade point averages are competing against each other!”

oh no. 

you didn’t doubt for a second that you were one of the students in the running; a large folder dedicated to very successful report cards gave you more than enough confidence in your chances. but you didn’t like considering the odds of who your opponent could be: irene, your best friend. jihyo, another member of the quidditch team who had a secret affinity for brewing potions. or.. seungcheol. but what was there to be said about him that hadn’t been said already?

slughorn made a rather dramatic show of reaching into his drawer to grab the grade sheets. you held your breath as you watched the professor reposition his glasses and examine the parchment with furrowed eyebrows. he cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he gazed towards the class, “the two students with the highest scores are…”

now the entire class seemed to be holding their breath. comically, mina and sana leaned in close while waiting for slughorn’s revelation. your gaze shifted unwillingly towards seungcheol, who winked at you. you replied by scowling and looking away with a huff. if merlin was on your side at all, if he really did have a hand in all of your dealings with other witches and wizards, he would let anyone besides choi seungcheol be your contender. 

“seungcheol and y/n, respectively!” slughorn announced cheerfully, setting the parchment on his desk in favor of leading the rest of the class in applause. 

respectively? 

seungcheol scored higher than you? how was that even possible? 

“what?” you scoffed, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“don’t act so surprised, y/n.” seungcheol smirked in your direction, his chest puffing out as he threw his shoulders back. “you’re not the only one in this school working your ass off.”

“but i am the only one who’s finally going to knock you off your high horse,” you retorted.

“i feel the need to remind you both-” slughorn interjected, sending something between a glare and a look of concern in your direction. his tone wasn’t scolding, much to your own surprise. “to keep things civil. if you cannot abide by my classroom’s policies during this.. impromptu competition, then i will have no choice but to eliminate you both and revert back to my old customs.”

you parted your lips but seungcheol was quick to interject and smooth-talk the professor (as he always seemed to have a talent for doing), “you have nothing to worry about, professor. i don’t mind a little competition.” suddenly he looked towards you with a shit eating grin. “especially not when it's so damn cute.” 

and there it was- that furious, fiery sensation in your cheeks. you weren’t sure if it occurred out of genuine flattery, embarrassment or.. pure rage. you wouldn’t have been surprised if steam fell out of your ears in that moment- you were in pure shock and disbelief that he would say something like that in front of everyone. of course, you were also shaming yourself for being so surprised; it was seungcheol, after all. 

the professor ignored the catty whistles and cheers in the classroom with a wave of his hand, “very well. the two of you will brew a draught of the living dead. the first one to create the acceptable potion wins. and there will be no backseat brewing from the rest of the class; you are to take notes on both students’ techniques, is that understood?”

silence passed through the classroom, a few students nodding their heads in response before slowly making their way to the back of the class. “good. seungcheol, y/n, i will give you a few minutes to get your ingredients. good luck to the both of you.”

you, of course, were searching through your textbook for the recipe before slughorn had even extended his best wishes. irene, luckily, had stayed by your side to provide you some much needed moral support. of course, you barely noticed; your nose stuck so far in your textbook you couldn’t see past the faded words. this is what you get for buying it secondhand. 

“you’re gonna do great, y/n,” irene reassured you. “seungcheol doesn’t know the first thing about potions. you’ve got this.”

you chuckled bitterly. “obviously that’s not true. he’s top of the class.”

“she’s got a point there,” seungcheol chimed in, smirking. “don’t worry, y/n, i’m sure there’s plenty of positions in the ministry of magic for people who aren’t proficient in potion brewing. like.. secretaries or scribes; you know, record keepers.”

his words prompted you to slam your book shut, keeping your thumb between the pages so you wouldn’t lose your spot. you looked past your shoulder, keeping your tone hushed so slughorn couldn’t hear the two of you bickering. “need i remind you that i’m the second ranking student in this class for a reason. all it’s going to take for me to rise above the ranks is to beat you at this stupid little competition.

“and by the way, i’m more than proficient at potion brewing.”

“says the one who mixed up dittany and wolfsbane two weeks ago,” seungcheol retorted. 

“it was a simple mistake! anyone could have made it,” you argued.

much to your dismay, seungcheol’s best friend sangyeon felt the need to chime in with a smirk, “why don’t we raise the stakes a little bit?”

“what do you mean?” irene asked, cocking a brow.

“it’s felix felicis we’re competing for. the stakes have never been higher,” you deadpanned.

“i mean- you two obviously have some arguments and disputes you need to resolve. maybe this competition could be a good chance for the two of you to humble each other.”

you tilted your head, part of you in disbelief that you were actually entertaining his words and another part of you believing that he actually made a fair argument. suddenly, a smirk etched at your lips as you began to calculate.. “alright. if i win, which i will, you have to act as my personal assistant for a month.”

seungcheol barked out a laugh, his eyes going wide in amusement, “personal assistant? for a month? what are you getting at?”

“you heard me,” you retorted. “you have to walk me to my class, carry around my books for me, and help me with all of my homeworks, meetings, and schedules.”

“seems a bit outlandish, but alright,” seungcheol snickered. “alright. if i win, which i will…” he paused. “you have to go to the yule ball with me.”

“what?!”

“you heard me,” seungcheol repeated after you, even going so far as to mimic your smirk. “you have to go to the yule ball with me. we have to wear coordinating outfits, we have to dance together, and take plenty of pictures. and you cannot try to sabotage our last ball at hogwarts.”

you scoffed, “there is no way i’m agreeing to that. not even in your wildest dreams.”

“fine, then you can forget all about your precious personal assistant.” 

you huffed. you would love nothing more than the chance to publicly humiliate seungcheol, to get him back for all the times that he had embarrassed you. the devious bastard needed some humbling. but.. what if things took a turn for the worst and he won? he was top of the class for a reason, and the universe seemed to have the cards stacked against you. was it really worth it, adding a bet onto a competition that had high stakes to begin with?

irene sent a knowing smirk in your direction just as you got to your feet, “give me a second to think about it.”

you grabbed irene’s hand, rushing to the supply shelves where the ingredients you had been neglecting were waiting. asphodel, wormwood, valerian root.. as you began to gather everything you needed in one hand, you turned to your best friend with a groan of annoyance, “can you believe that man? he’s incorrigible! insufferable!”

“yes, but who knows? he might end up surprising you and you could have a great time at the dance together,” she peered through the recipe in her own textbook, helping you gather the rest of the roots and broths. 

you snickered, “seungcheol? surprise me? i highly doubt that.”

she shook her head and took a much calmer approach, looking through the shelves and graciously handing you a fair amount of the ingredients that you weren’t able to find. “you deserve a night off, y/n. you’ve been focusing too much on your studies your entire time at hogwarts. you’ve barely had any time for extracurricular activities besides the slug club. just do this one thing and if it goes horribly.. then.. we’ll grab some of those prank snacks from zonko’s and ruin his life until the school year ends.”

you tilted your head in contemplation, “i would like to see his face covered in boils.. fine. but all this bet does is give me more incentive to win this competition. i will not be caught dead dancing with seungcheol.” 

“we’ll see about that,” seungcheol called to you from across the room. 

god, you couldn’t wait to wipe that insufferable smirk off his face. 

once slughorn had reset his rather eccentric hourglass to time the two of you and the rest of the class scooted to the back of the room, everything else seemed to disappear around you. you focused only on the recipe, measuring the broth without letting so much as an extra drop fall into your cauldron. 

then it was time for the sopophorous bean. you tried to cut it in half, as per the instructions, but it actually bounced out of your reach. you tried it again, but it yielded the same results. and then the third time, seungcheol had to duck his head to dodge it once it was sent flying across the room. what in the world? 

you refused to ask for slughorn’s help. you were the second highest ranking student in the class for a reason, after all. you’d gotten this far without asking him or snape any stupid questions. after reading over the instructions again, a particular passage stood out to you: you only needed the juices from the bean. 

exercising great caution and timidity, you attempted to crush the bean with the blade of your knife instead. and much to your pleasant surprise, it worked. the bean didn’t budge. you looked over to seungcheol as you began to pour the juices into your cauldron, immediately furrowing your eyebrows, “how are you already two steps ahead of me??” 

the man looked up and continued to stir the broth clockwise, per the directions. it didn’t stop him from sending an arrogant smirk your way; you had to hand it to him, he was a great multitasker. “a magician never reveals his secrets. especially to the competition.”

you huffed; you didn’t need his help anyways. as you started to crush the thick root into a powder, you could have sworn you heard the clock from across the hallway ticking. uncomfortable silence rang through the air, save a few quiet mutters from fellow students and the boiling from the cauldrons. 

meanwhile, slughorn paced back and forth with his hands intertwined behind his back, studying the two of you carefully. there was a hopeful glint in his eyes, as if he wanted the both of you to succeed. between you and seungcheol, he couldn’t decide who his favorite student was. something told you that the results of this competition would finally give him his answer…

as you tossed the powder into the broth, a thick cloud of black smoke materialized in front of you, covering your face in the powder. the powder had shot straight out of the cauldron, as if rejected by the broth. your hand flew to your mouth as you fell into a fit of loud coughs, which unfortunately were not loud enough to muffle the sounds of your fellow students’ laughs.

just as you regained enough composure to wipe some of the soot out of your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of seungcheol trying to hide a snicker while stirring the broth in the other direction. shit. he was already on the last step. he chortled once he took notice of your scowl, shaking his head, “it’s honestly a shame. i thought you were better at following instructions.”

“i’m doing exactly what the book says! you obviously have some sort of cheat sheet.” 

seungcheol furrowed his eyebrows in mock offense, holding up his textbook with his free hand. “hmm.. that’s curious because it looks like we have the same one. maybe you’ve just lost your touch.” before you could offer a rebuttal, however, seungcheol set the ladle down and waved towards your professor. oh no, oh no.. 

“ah, seungcheol! finished already?” you watched in horror as slughorn strode towards your opponent’s cauldron, fishing a leaf out of his pocket. “well, uh, here we are. moment of truth,” he snickered, holding his breath as his hand hovered over the cauldron. you looked back towards irene, who was watching everything play out in front of her with the smallest frown. 

and just like that, the tightening sensation in your chest loomed, causing you to clutch at the collar of your shirt. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the scene playing out in front of you, and of course, the dreaded feeling that your life was over simply because the tiny leaf dissolved into the broth. his broth. you had lost to seungcheol, your rival, your mortal enemy, once again. 

“merlin’s beard! it’s perfect!” once again, slughorn slowly began to clap his hands and lead the rest of the classroom in a rather loud chorus of applause. the only reason you joined in was because you were in plain view of slughorn and you didn’t want to risk appearing petty in front of him; however, you made no attempts to rid the look of disappointment on your features. 

you were so wrapped up in your dark blanket of self pity that you barely even noticed the older man pick the vial up from his desk and hand it to seungcheol. the look of pride on your professor’s face was too much for you to handle, seeing as how you felt it was entirely misplaced. it should have been you who won. you knew that textbook backwards and forwards, you took extra notes in class every single day, studying was your favorite pastime.. how in the hell did he win? 

“now, as promised, one tiny vial of felix felicis. use it well.” as the classroom erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, you vowed to yourself that you would find out exactly how he cheated.

—-------------------------

you could barely speak to anyone after admitting defeat the day before, including irene, fearing that they would bring up your epic failure. endless hours in the library were not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you considered it like your home away from the ravenclaw dormitory. luckily, your extra time alone did not meddle with your duties as ravenclaw prefect. not that it mattered; when news of your failure traveled amongst the rest of the house, you could have sworn they stopped taking you seriously. 

granted, it had barely been twenty four hours, but still. 

you were brushing up on some light reading, lost in theories of dragon and centaur evolutions when you heard a pile of books slam next to yours on the table. it echoed through the library, causing several nearby bystanders to lift their heads up with matching scowls. when you snapped your head to the left in order to get a better look at the culprit, you instinctively rolled your eyes.

“what? i thought you would be a little happier to see a champion,” seungcheol chuckled in a hushed tone, taking the seat next to you. “oh, and your date to the yule ball.”

“can you keep your voice down? i don’t want anyone to hear i’m going with you of all people.”

seungcheol dramatically pressed a hand to his chest, “oh. that cuts deep, y/n. but i’m afraid people are going to find out eventually. you know, during the prefects’ dance, for example.”

“what?!” you exclaimed, only to be rudely shushed by several of the library attendees. taking a few precautionary looks over your shoulder, you whispered, “you never said anything about a prefects’ dance.”

“that was because i thought you already knew,” seuncheol replied conceitedly. “unless.. oh.. you weren’t planning on going to the yule ball at all, were you?”   

you tilted your head, “i know exactly what you’re implying..”

“implying? i’m not implying any-”

“and i could easily have gotten another date to the ball if it weren’t for you,” you lied. unless you had some sort of secret admirer, you knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that you would have been asked to the ball. you were planning on using the extra alone time in the ravenclaw common room to your advantage anyways; there was much more space in there for studying. “i just don’t have any time for such trivial pursuits.”

“i wouldn’t call social interaction or international magical cooperation trivial pursuits,” seungcheol retorted.  

you slammed your book shut and tossed it into your book bag. “was there a reason you decided to come in here and bother me? besides attempting to get me kicked out of the library?”

“ohh, right,” seungcheol whispered with a mischievous grin. “i forgot to mention one other thing. as prefects, we’re supposed to help plan the event. decorate the great hall, hire the musicians, the works.”

if you didn’t respect the sacred space of the library, you would have screamed your protests at him. of course he planned this out to the number. he didn’t have a partner to assist him in his party planning tasks and he needed another chance to publicly humiliate you. so in order to kill two birds with one stone, he asked you to be his date. since you were a prefect, now that your attendance was confirmed, you had no other choice but to participate in the planning. 

“you slippery snake,” you hissed.

“oh? look what we have here, the high and mighty y/n l/n, picking and choosing which responsibilities she gets to take seriously.” 

“this is a new low, even for you. i can’t believe you would trick me into doing your stupid party planning for you.”

he chuckled, “oh no, no, no. i’m not making you do all of it for me, you have my word. i’ll be with you every step of the way.” you cringed; for some reason, that sounded worse than leaving you to do his chores for him. “now we better get a move on, darling, or we’ll be late.”

seungcheol led you eagerly to the great hall where yeji and seungkwan were waiting. the two of them were head girl and boy of the slytherin and hufflepuff houses, respectively, and had already begun preparations for the ball. when you took note of how eager seungkwan was to take leadership and oversee all of the preparations, you began to wonder why he wasn’t sorted into the gryffindor house. 

of course, yeji knew that he was simply a placeholder until the real self proclaimed leader would show his face. you witnessed a complete shift in her demeanor in real time, an annoyed frown shifting into an inviting smirk the moment she saw the two of you walk to the hufflepuff table. “ah, there you are, cheol. i was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“i don’t take my position as head boy lightly, unlike some people,” he tilted his head towards you, earning a dirty look. yeji simply held an amused smirk as her gaze shifted from seungcheol to you, a knowing look in her eyes.

seungkwan, however, looked like he had seen a ghost. or a hologram. to be honest, anything else was more believable than you being willing to have anything to do with the yule ball. “y/n! i thought you weren’t coming.”

“i thought so too,” you sighed. “but-”

“she changed her mind,” seungcheol cut in with the shameless lie, much to your surprise. “we both thought it would be a good idea if a head boy and a head girl went to the ball together. especially since its our last year at hogwarts and we didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity.”

yeji made no attempt to disguise her confusion- seungcheol could easily get any other girl to go to the ball with him. so why would he ask you? and why would you say yes? the two of you had a very public and long lasting rivalry; it seemed odd that the two of you were able to make amends so quickly. “seems like the two of you finally made up,” she cooed, folding her arms across her chest.   

“yeah, for the most part,” seungkwan laughed, pointing out the look of annoyance etched across your features. 

seungcheol barked out a laugh, “we’re both more than capable of keeping things civil. we figured that out for ourselves just the other day, didn’t we, darling?”

it took a great deal of willpower for you to hold back a groan of annoyance. “we’re wasting time. we should probably get started on the decorating now.”

“right,” seungkwan snickered, gesturing to several large boxes cluttering and even surrounding the table. “filch brought everything from the dungeon up here. personally, i think that we should go for a winter wonderland theme. white, grays, light blues..”

“sounds good.” yeji was quick to agree. you would have been surprised, but something told you that she was only agreeing with him so this meeting would go by much quicker. not that you blamed her..

“i agree,” seungcheol chimed in. “yeji and seungkwan, why don’t you work on fixing up the right side of the hall. we’ll focus on the left.”

as the two of them nodded and followed seungcheol’s direction, you could hear seungkwan immediately lecturing yeji on how to carry out his vision with precision and intent. meanwhile, the young man at your side smirked with infuriating amusement as he studied you carefully. as a response you turned towards him with a huff, “let’s just get this over with.”

he chuckled, “i admire your enthusiasm. we’ll need it, considering the ball’s less than a week away.”

great. more good news. 

—--------------------

as preparations for the yule ball were under wing, you actually found yourself horrifically overwhelmed for the first time during your attendance at hogwarts. if you weren’t studying, you were figuring out with the others which bands would play at the ball. if you weren’t monitoring the common room with the other prefects, you were organizing the tables, chairs, and centerpieces. and if you weren’t with irene, the only other person who seemed to bring you a sense of comfort during a time when your anxiety was at its peak, you were with seungcheol, who seemed to gift your anxiety to you.

this stupid ball was taking over your entire life. even with a total of twenty four students carefully planning the evening, it seemed to take an eternity for all of you to come to any semblance of an agreement. day by day you were filled with endless disappointment and dread. worst of all, you couldn’t figure out how you ended up in this situation; there seemed to be no explanation as to how seungcheol went about cheating in your little showdown. you learned that slughorn cast a protection spell against cheating in his classroom, so he couldn’t have muttered anything under his breath. he couldn’t have tampered with your spellbook; the recipe in yours was the same as irene’s. 

through all of the formulas, the lectures on runes and the arguments with seungkwan and yeji about tacky balloons and garlands, the one question that bothered you the most was how in the hell gryffindor’s beloved, corrupt champion managed to cheat. it plagued your mind even as you and seungcheol began to set up one of the three giant, towering christmas trees in the great hall. 

“don’t you love this time of year?” he asked, startling you out of your daze.

you furrowed your eyebrows, finding his attempts at making friendly conversation rather pathetic. you shrugged. “i guess.”

“it’s usually not my favorite, since it can be a pain in the ass to fly a broom around in this type of weather,” he chuckled, gently waving his wand to direct silver ornaments onto the tree. “but i don’t know. something about this year feels special.”

you paused your own enchantments in contemplation, letting a tiny string of garland settle comfortably against the pine tree’s branches. you were using the same spell as seungcheol, hoping to finish the decorations as quickly as possible to put this long day to an end. “maybe this being our last year in the castle has something to do with it?” 

although your statement came out sounding much more sarcastic than you intended, your words came from a place of genuine belief. until that moment, it felt like you had been in denial that you were about to leave the castle forever. go into the real world. 

seungcheol seemed pleasantly surprised that you were making conversation with him, even if your response was somewhat harsh. he chuckled, “i guess so. but.. i don’t know. something’s different. in a good way.” 

“hopefully you figure out what it is before the school year ends,” you chuckled. 

seungcheol only nodded before lifting the last few ornaments onto his side of the tree with a mere wave of his wand and then the two of you stepped back to admire your work. it looked beautiful, the silver and dark blue ornaments glowing in the candlelight. but you knew it would look even better on the night of the ball; seungkwan would be casting an enchantment to make the entire hall look like a real winter wonderland. “i think we’re at a good enough place to call it a day, don’t you?”

you sighed in relief and threw your book bag over your shoulder. “thank god.”

he called to you before you could turn your back on him, “hey, wait a minute-”

you sighed and reluctantly turned around to face him, tilting your head to the side. “what?”

something strange happened to seungcheol. for the tiniest moment, a mere millisecond, if anything, he appeared flustered. at a loss for words, as if he was surprised that you were giving him the time of day. “shouldn’t we go shopping for some dress robes together?”

you made no attempt to disguise your annoyance, clenching your jaw. “what, so you can pick out one of those horrendous, poofy dresses that makes me look like a pastry? i think i’ll go by myself, thanks.”

he laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “no, trust me. i wouldn’t do that to anyone, not even you.”

“even so, i don’t feel like going dress shopping with you.”

“and why’s that?” he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. something about that.. punchable look on his face served as a reminder that you really had no reason to decline his invitation. by some miracle, the two of you had been able to keep it civil for this long. plus, if the two of you had to coordinate outfits (as per seungcheol’s terms and conditions), it would be much easier to do that in person. 

with all of those sentiments in mind, you sighed in defeat. “fine. let me grab my robes.”

the two of you threw your large, black cloaks over your figures before stepping outside in the real winter wonderland. they did nothing to keep the chilling winds from nipping at your noses and causing the tips of your fingers to freeze. pushing past the flurries of snow and following the magically shoveled pathway, the two of you made your way to the nearest costume parlor. 

the moment you stepped inside with your sworn enemy, the reality of the situation hit you. any other girl who was ‘lucky’ enough to be invited to the ball by him would have loved the experience of shopping for coordinating outfits with him. more notably, if you were invited by someone, anyone else, you most likely would have been trying to tone down your excitement. 

and yet here you were, staring at the rows and piles of dresses, tunics, and cloaks in dread. of course, he seemed to notice it, moving a hand to pat your back with a stupid grin. “so.. what’s your favorite color?”

you held yourself back from letting out a huff of annoyance, “green.”

“green..” he cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger, acting as if he was in an state of contemplation. “well, i suppose it's not really in season, but we can make it work. follow me.”

your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head as he grabbed onto your hand, dragging you to a row of dresses. it was oddly satisfying, the way the dresses were arranged in a pattern that made the fabrics seemed to fade from key lime to emerald. and they had a lot of options, the rack suffering from the impact of the hangers. 

you would have expected nothing less from seungcheol if not to display the first dress with the ugliest shade of asparagus green splashed upon the fabrics. “i think this would look gorgeous on you,” he whispered to you in a sentimental tone, his shit eating smirk giving his true intentions away.

“i’m not wearing that, its ghastly.” you snatched the dress from him, putting it back in its assigned place on the rack. “shouldn’t we focus on darker colors, anyways? since those are what’s ‘in season?’” you made sure to add air quotes when using his words, a smug smirk of your own tugging at your lips.

seungcheol’s smile seemed to be one laced with pride, as if he was pleased to see you catching onto his behaviors and mirroring them. “i like where your head’s at. come along...” 

you let him grab your hand again before leading you to a nearby aisle, where dresses with much darker shades of blue and green were stuffed haphazardly onto the racks and shelves surrounding you. “see, this is what i meant when i said i liked green,” you told him as-a-matter-of-factly as you held up a long, modest emerald green dress with gauntlet sleeves that would hook over your middle fingers. 

he stretched out his hand to brush along the skirts of your personal favorite selection, tilting his head as if he was carefully studying the fabric. his gaze shifted from the elegant dress to you, as if he was imagining you in it. “i think i should let you pick the outfits from here on out. you’ve got an eye for color theory.”

you folded the dress over your arm with a dry chuckle, “you should have learned that during our committee meetings together. who was it who organized all of the centerpieces?”

“right. i never got to tell you about how well they match the tablecloths.”

“because someone wishes they had half the natural talent for interior design that i possess.” you imitated his trademarked smirk to the best of your ability, tilting your head to the side once it appeared as if the man in front of you was at a loss for words. “we’re going with this one.”

“don’t let it go to your head just yet. we’ve still got to find something for me to wear.”

“and i have just the thing.” this time it was your turn to grab onto his hand, pulling him towards the men’s section. your eyes scanned through the shelves in front of you until they landed on the ugliest thing you could find in that shop: a large, fluffy collar that was adorned by feathers and a large broach in the middle. “i think it matches your eyes perfectly.”

“you cannot be serious,” he deadpanned.

“hey, you were the one that said i’m picking the outfits from here on out. i think wearing it is the very least you could do, all things considered.” you couldn’t disguise the broadening smirk making its way upon your lips even if you wanted to. the look of disgust upon his features was just too good not to revel in. “what’s the matter, you don’t like it?”

he tilted his head up, pressing his lips to a thin line in a vain attempt to smile, “yeah. sure. it looks very eccentric. i think i’ve got just the cloak to match it.”

your eyes widened in a rather successful attempt to patronize the man in front of you. “do you really? i guess fate really does exist.” you stepped closer to fold the collar around his neck, admiring the look of disdain on his face as he made no effort to pull the hideous thing off of him. “see? i think it suits you so well. you could comb your hair back a little bit..” 

as if you completely forgot who you were talking to, you lifted your hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. seungcheol’s expression of disdain faded at the contact, a puzzled look quickly taking its place instead. your newfound proximity seemed to almost startle him, prompting you to take a step away from him and clear your throat. “let’s get out of here.”

“huh?” 

you shook your head, “we’ve got studying to do. i’m running behind thanks to this stupid ball.”

“you’ll get back on your feet, love,” he countered in a reassuring tone. “you always were an overachiever.” 

his words seemed to echo through your mind even as he walked with you up to the register and graciously paid for your dress without a second thought. you could barely even protest, still feeling rather puzzled. even if it wasn’t customary for a man to pay for his date’s dress, you could let it slide just this once. heaven knew he had the money for it. 

besides, it was the very least he could do, all things considered.     

—---------------

the night of the ball finally arrived. irene graciously allowed you to borrow some extra hairpins she had, tiny snowflakes encrusted with shining diamonds. they shone like tiny stars in the candlelight, only accentuating the emerald fabrics pooled around your figure. 

even so, you felt like a fish out of water among your peers who were dressed to the nines in silvers and deep blues.. you alway thought that beauty seemed to come so naturally to all of them. but not to you. never to you. even now, standing in front of the mirror, caked in makeup, hairspray and a dress you wouldn’t have been caught dead in any other day.. you didn’t feel special. 

irene seemed to sense your distress, just as she always did. it prompted you to wonder if your best friend had some sort of intuition, or if you were just terrible at hiding your emotions. as she stepped by your side and gazed at your reflection in the mirror, draping her arm around your waist, your frown only grew more prominent. she was by far the most beautiful girl in the common room. while you tried not to envy your best friend or place any blame on her, it was difficult putting those sentiments into practice when you got a full look of her light blue dress and gorgeous icy features.

you bowed your head with a sigh. as her eyes followed your gaze in the mirror, she lifted a hand to cup your chin so you would look in the reflective glass again. “chin up. you look beautiful.”

“i don’t feel beautiful.” you sighed, gazing at your reflections with a forlorn sigh. you wondered how she couldn’t see the stark difference between the two of you. 

she moved a hand to brush some hair out of your eyes, offering you a gentle smile. “i promise you- you look absolutely gorgeous. you’ll be the belle of the ball, i’m sure.”

the two of you chuckled as she linked her arms around your waist, smiling at the sight of your reflection. at the sight of a tiny, somewhat reluctant smile slowly starting to surface. “let’s just hope midnight approaches quickly.”

she only chuckled and held on tightly to your hand as she slowly led you out of the dressing room and down the stairs. you could hear the gentle, slow jazz band that yeji and seungkwan had argued about for days beginning to play. their music grew louder and louder with every step down the stairs you took, but the wild heartbeat in your chest seemed to clash terribly with the rhythm of the instruments. it all felt so.. unconventional. and yet, you couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason as to why you were so nervous. 

irene’s date, kai was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. you noticed the change in his demeanor in real time, noting how his previously dull eyes widened the moment he saw her making her way towards him. strangely enough, a pang of jealousy surfaced in your chest once she left your side and you immediately missed her warmth. your hand felt empty and cold as she waved goodbye and mouthed a ‘good luck’ to you before joining kai in the great hall.

seungcheol was nowhere to be found near the base of the staircase. before you could assume the worst about him (and mentally kick yourself for ever giving your sworn enemy the benefit of the doubt), you tried to remain neutral as you walked in the great hall alone. 

your eyes widened as you took note of your surroundings- it went without saying that seungkwan had mastered the winter wonderland enchantment. fake snow fell from the star studded ceiling, disappearing before it could fall on any of the students. it fell upon the branches of the large christmas trees and stuck to the walls, icicles hung from the pillars, snowflakes shone in the candlelight and yet there wasn’t even the slightest chill in the air.

there was a large circle around an empty space in the hallway, which you assumed was the dance floor. there was no doubt in your mind that the prefects’ dance would be starting soon, which was why panic began to set in once your eyes scanned through the crowds of students surrounding you. your date was nowhere to be found. of course he had stood you up. you wouldn’t have put it past him to leave you stranded near the dance floor, looking like an idiot. 

just as you turned on your heel, planning to make a quick getaway before anyone could notice you standing there awkwardly, your body went stiff as you bumped into a man standing directly behind you. the first thing you noticed was the familiar broach surrounded by small, white feathers.. “wow, you actually came,” you muttered.

“i could say the same about you.” tonight, there was something almost..endearing about his smirk. maybe it was because he had taken your advice and combed some of his hair back. maybe because his tone lacked that familiar condescending air. or maybe because.. the twinkling lights suspended in the air made his dark eyes shine brighter than usual. “we better get a move on, darling, the others don’t like to be kept waiting.”

just as you nodded, you felt him rest a hand over your arm in favor of leading you through the crowd of students and onto the empty part of the floor. yeji and seungkwan were the first of the twenty two other prefects that you noticed, paired with taeyong and nayeon, respectively. it felt like the rest of them were just waiting for the two of you, watching you and seungcheol walk towards the center of the hall like merlin and guendoloena themselves had graced the student body with their presence. It was horrifying. 

obviously, you’d forgotten to make an efforts to disguise your embarrassment because when seungcheol faced you, he frowned. surprise washed over your features; you thought he would make fun of you or gloat but there seemed to be the smallest hint of sympathy in his eyes. it was almost.. off putting. like he was hiding something. “what’s the matter?” he finally asked.

“nothing.” you were quick to whisper to him. 

“hey-” just as seungcheol curled an arm around your waist to reel you in closer to him, his tone grew hushed. “you don’t have to be nervous. just follow my lead.”

“i’m not-” once you quickly came to the realization that this was neither the time nor the place to argue, you swallowed your pride and timidly draped your arm around his broad shoulders. once his hand was laced with yours, you realized this was the closest you’ve ever been to him, your chests nearly touching, and you weren’t even repulsed by him. in fact, you made eye contact with him for much longer than you ever thought you were capable. “thanks.”

seungcheol nodded in acknowledgement as the band in the corner of the room began to play a beautiful, soothing waltz. he took the lead, starting out with a basic box step waltz and waiting until you got a hang of the pattern before starting to turn counter clockwise like the rest of the couples. he kept a firm but gentle hold on your waist, his hand squeezing yours in reassurance as you found yourself scooting closer to him. “see? as always, you’re learning quickly.”

you hated to admit it, but such an unexpected compliment from seungcheol, of all people, prompted your heart to skip a beat. you pushed the unfamiliar sensation away to the best of your ability. “and you’re a pretty decent teacher. who would’ve thought?” you chuckled.

“well.. maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.” he chuckled, affection laced within the quiet laugh. “i will say, though, i expected you to step on my toes at least once or twice.”

“there’s still plenty of time for that,” you mused, a smirk tugging at your lips as your gaze flicked down to your feet. he must have purchased brand new dress shoes for the occasion; the patent leather shone almost like a diamond in the limelight. for some reason, you didn’t want to risk scuffing them.

“i suppose,” he shrugged before looking just past your shoulder in quiet contemplation. he wasn’t fixed on any certain point behind you, but his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was studying the fabric of your sleeves carefully before meeting your eyes again. “but would it be so terrible if we got along? just this once?” 

the shift in his demeanor brought a small sense of uneasiness to your chest until he spoke again. hoping to ease the tension growing in your heart, you snickered, “why? you don’t want me to ruin your brand new shoes?”

he hated how your words brought a tenacious grin to his lips, one that he couldn’t get rid of even if he wanted to. and you hated how you found it so endearing, especially when your eyes fixed on the dimples in his cheeks that you never seemed to notice until now. “something like that.” he muttered.

as if he couldn’t get through the dance without embarrassing you just one time, he pulled back from your embrace to spin you under his arm. after you completed the circle he kept both hands on your back, leading you into a less than graceful dip. you stumbled a tiny bit in his tight and affirming grip and held onto his upper arm for that much needed security. before you could bring yourself to curse him out, you let your eyes find his. instead of that infuriating look he had when he knew he’d successfully gotten under your skin, there was a certain warmth hidden in his irises. 

it was confusing.. almost more infuriating. especially considering the heat that rose upon your cheeks when you’d gazed upon his features long enough. 

and then he carefully pulled you back into a standing position and the fuzzy feeling in your head was gone. for the time being, at least. you had kept your arm draped around his broad shoulders, expecting the music to continue. but the students in the crowd began to clap as the rest of the prefects broke away from their partners and you suddenly felt like you’d been in the embrace for much too long. maybe you were overthinking it, maybe you weren’t. 

you let both arms fall by your sides as you took a single step backwards. your date could only chuckle in amusement, “glad that we finally got that over with?” he waved a hand dismissively just as you parted your lips to defend yourself. “come on. i think we could both use a drink.”

much to your own surprise, you let him take your hand in his and lead you to the refreshment table. seungkwan and nayeon beat you to the punch (both literally and figuratively, as seungkwan was already pouring a glass for the two of them), the lovely couple beaming the moment they saw you from across the table. 

“oh, hey guys!” seungkwan was the first to greet the two of you with a large smile. “you guys looked really good out on the dance floor. for a second, i was worried you were gonna steal all the attention away from me and nayeon.”

nayeon laughed before you could even conjure a witty response, “oh seungkwan. it's their last year here, i think they should enjoy their time in the spotlight while they still can.”

thankfully, seungcheol intervened before you could. “please. there’s plenty of time for us to enjoy our respective places in the spotlight when i’m a world renowned quidditch player and y/n’s the most successful auror in the ministry.” 

seungkwan’s eyes went wide. “wait- you mean the holyhead harpies..accepted you?”

just like magic, that all too familiar smirk materialized upon seungcheol’s lips just before he took a sip from his glass of punch rather than providing the three of you with a direct answer. however, it proved to be more than a satisfactory response. the couple in front of you broke out into applause with wide beams and quiet giggles. you, however, stood speechlessly in place.

for until that moment, you’d forgotten all about the potion.. 

“that’s amazing news!” nayeon almost shrieked. “we should celebrate.”

“maybe some other time. we better let him celebrate with his date first,” seungkwan reasoned while sending a knowing smirk in your direction. before too long, the four of you were exchanging goodbyes and more congratulations until only you and seungcheol stood near the table. of course, you weren’t sure how to approach the subject of felix felicis, so the two of you were forced to revel in the awkward silence for a good minute or two. 

that was, until seungcheol decided he had had enough. he brought a hand to your lower back, tilting his head towards the nearest exit. “come on. let’s go get some fresh air.”

once greeted by the chilly december air, you found yourself tugging your wrap closer to your chest. judging by the fresh layer of snow upon the balcony, it had just barely finished snowing for the time being. although he’d removed his hand from your waist, he stayed in close proximity to you, your shoulders barely brushing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. the two of you took a deep breath in alarming synchronization, releasing a visible sigh afterwards. 

you watched carefully as the small cloud disappeared in front of you before turning to him. “so.. you made the team.”

seungcheol nodded with confidence, but something told you that he had no intention of rubbing his victories in your face. “that’s right,” he replied quietly.

once again, you weren’t sure how to approach the nagging question in your mind- you had no intention of asking if he used the felix felicis to cheat at tryouts, guaranteeing him a spot on the team. you pondered on the correct delivery for just a moment too long, your eyebrows slowly knitting together as your lips parted. “how..”

seungcheol mocked an expression of offense before quietly replying, “pure talent. nothing else.”

“you mean..”

the man in front of you pressed his pouty lips to a thin line before reaching in his inner pocket. your eyes widened as the small vial he pulled out shone in the moonlight. clearly, seungcheol hadn’t used a single drop of the potion yet. you looked in his eyes, only to see the smallest glint of hurt. “do you really think so little of me?” he asked you timidly.

it would have been a knee jerk reaction to tell him yes, to tell him that he got on your nerves and seemed to be hellbent on embarrassing you at every chance he could get. that you thought he was a pompous asshole and thought too highly of himself. but when you reflected on the time you spent together, you realized.. seungcheol was just like any other student that went to this school. 

he had ambitions. he had goals. he had drive. not only that, but he had interests outside the academic field. for example, he loved christmas. winter was his favorite season. he loved strawberry punch. he had a handful of likes and dislikes. in that sense, he was just like any other student that roamed through the halls of hogwarts, trying to make a name for themselves. in that sense, he was just like you. 

and you felt horrible for ever accusing him of cheating.

with those sentiments in mind, you shook your head slowly. “no. no i guess i don’t.”

before he turned towards the balcony again, you were able to catch the smallest glance at of his smile, faint as it was. it seemed as if he saw no need for keeping up appearances, considering the two of you were finally alone. he brushed the thin layer of snow off the railing before crossing his arms over the concrete. “i can’t believe in just a few more months.. all of this will be over.”

you mirrored his actions, keeping close to him as you peered down the balcony. carriages pulled by invisible steeds were parked near the entrance of the palace, covered in thick sheets of snow. “i know. can’t believe you’ll have to find someone on the harpies to torment everyday.”

he snickered loudly, “but what about you? hopefully you’ll meet another auror who’ll keep that fire in you burning on.”

“i don’t think anyone will keep that fire in me like you do, seungcheol,” you confessed, looking over to him with a smirk of your own. it was all you could do to downplay the severity of the confession. “i’ve never met someone so infuriating yet so.. captivating as you. and i don’t think i will for a long time.”

you could have sworn you noticed seungcheol’s ears turn red once the bold confession hung in the air between the two of you. had you brought it up, however, he would have quickly excused the display of bashfulness by blaming it on the cold weather. “in that case.. i’m glad that we were able to do all of this.. the planning, the dancing.. even if it meant you had to lose to me one last time.”

you laughed and shook your head fondly, “you just had to ruin a decent moment between us, didn’t you?”

although a deep chuckle from the man in front of you soon followed your display of annoyance, nothing could have prepared you for seungcheol’s quiet response: “well, let me make it up to you.”

even if you could find the right words to ask him exactly what that would entail, you couldn’t seem to make a sound. your lips were parted as he turned to face you fully, moving a cold hand to cup your cheek. his touch was much more delicate than you could have ever expected from him, a sense of timidity within his demeanor. as if he was waiting for you to push him away.. but you didn’t. even if you wanted to, your gaze on his pursed lips kept you from paying any mind to your surroundings, the snowflakes beginning to materialize, the muffled music, the flickering of the enchanted lanterns…

the next few seconds that followed were a blur. you leaned in to meet him halfway, your lips finally meeting. the kiss was deep, slow, as if the two of you were savoring a moment you’ve waited for far too long to come. he kissed your lips with such gentle deliberation that you wondered how long he really had been wanting this. of course, you could do nothing but return the kiss with equal eagerness as you moved your hand to his other cheek. there was a soft exhale through his nose, which fanned lightly over your skin before he pulled away.

the two of you stayed silent for a moment, relishing the beautiful moment in all of its remaining glory. never in a million years did either of you expect something like a bet would result in such a wonderful night. a wonderful night filled with contemplations and observations you previously would never have entertained. 

and yet, even after such a truly mind numbing moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking him, “seungcheol.. what are you going to do with felix..?”

this time, it was his turn to shake his head fondly. “you just had to ruin a decent moment between us, didn’t you?” the chuckle that followed his repetition of your own words was much too endearing, causing that heated sensation in your cheeks to materialize yet again. “but to answer your question, i’m.. not sure. i guess i’ll cross that bridge when i get to it.

“or.. i could always give it to you.”

“no,” you immediately refused with a shake of your head. ”as much as it.. pains me to say it: you earned it, fair and square. besides… i learned from someone tonight that real achievements aren’t made with lucky charms. and even if i don’t become an auror.. i’m more than capable of doing something else with my time.” 

seungcheol bowed his head with a grin. “whoever he is.. sounds really wise.”

“he is,” you chuckled, moving your hand to lace your fingers with his once again. there was a warmth in his palm, one that you sought for as you squeezed his hand. “he’s.. insufferable and pompous the majority of the time. but incredibly smart and driven the rest of the time.”

his gaze remained fixed on your intertwined hands for a moment before his eyes met yours again. “you finally see your worth,” he whispered to you, almost incredulously. “believe me, y/n, i’ve known you to be more than capable of accomplishing anything you set your mind to since the day we met.”

feeling unsure of how else to express your gratitude, you placed another gentle kiss upon his lips. savoring the feeling, the taste.. since you knew it was only a matter of time until the two of you would part ways as nothing more than pupils. still, as the two of you spent the rest of the enchanted night dancing, laughing, and talking each others’ ears off, you and seungcheol hoped that this night wouldn’t be the end of your precious time together.

[shadowtriovibes]

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

[waskatoshi]

GOOD LUCK SAMU!

Miya Osamu x F!Reader

Hogwarts Au! [+18] BratTamer!Osamu, Bratty!Reader, Spanking, Nipple play, Fingering, Clit Slaps, Blow Job, Unprotected sex. Hints of jealous and protective Osamu.

Osamu is feeling like everything in his life is going wrong, so he asks his brother a little bottle of liquid luck, felix felicis.

Miya Osamu was well aware that his luck had been running rather low lately.

His books had disappear.

His broom had gone insane.

A bludger hitted him in the stomach.

He didn't know what he had done to deserve all of this... maybe he got out on the wrong side of the bed, or someone may have cursed him, but what he did know in fact, was that he needed to get his luck back, and quickly.

In five days, his house was going to play against the regent three year champions of the quidditch cup, Gryffindor.

Slytherin needed to win this year competition no matter what, their honor was at stake.

Osamu was day and night analyzing his strategies, weaknesses and good sides. He had come to a simple conclusion: They needed to beware of the lions most dangerous player, their seeker.

His most talented opponent was his own brother. Miya Atsumu.

Osamu was unusually nervous. He wasn't like this on a daily basis, but with his current luck, surely the bludgers would plot something against him.

While Osamu was daydreaming in the couch of the common room, a girl entered trough the Slytherin portrait. When she realized the dazed state of the boy, she approached silently from behind, covering his eyes with her hands once she was close enough.

— Guess who?- She asked in a funny voice.

— Oh, it's you.

You smiled and sited right beside him.

— Whats with the long face?- Osamu looked at you with tedious eyes. He then proceeded to tell you everything about what was happening to him.- Yeah maybe you need to find a four leaf clover or something like that.- You joked. But Osamu didn't laugh. "Thats it!" He thought to himself

— If i don't have luck, i need to make my own.- He murmured. After that, Osamu left the common room without saying anything else.

— Good luck Samu!

[...]

Osamu went straight to the library to find what he was looking for: His roommate, Oikawa Tooru.

The dark haired boy was the only person who would help him with this kind of thing, because Osamu wasn't sure of what he exactly needed, but Oikawa would surely know.

— Oikawa!- He yelled in a whisper, bewaring of the old creepy librarian.

Osamu stopped in his tracks, next to him was Toorus girlfriend: A Ravenclaw girl who was too immersed studying to play attention to him. Her head was down with her hair hiding her (probably serious) expression.

Would she snitch on him if she heard something? Would she get him in trouble? As his mind raced in thoughts, he heard a very silent snoring: It came directly from her. She was asleep. In the library.

Oikawa patted the chair beside him, inviting his friend to take a sit.

— Is something wrong?- Asked the brown haired boy. Osamu proceeded to tell him everything he was going through. At The end, he asked Oikawa if there was anything that could bring him luck, or at least, something to recover the luck he already had.- Mmmm. Maybe a little bit of Felix Felicis could help. But it's very difficult to make, so you can't ask a normal student for it, let alone a teacher...

But Osamu knowed exactly who could help him. He thanked Oikawa and went straight to Gryffindors dorm. A few minutes later, the blond twin peeked through the Fat Lady portrait, making sure his brother was there.

— I received your message, I can get the potion with one of my friends, but you would have to wait, at least two days.- Osamu nodded and said:

— Ok, i will wait.

[...]

Two days later, his brother went to the Slytherin chambers with a little wooden box. Those two days were Osamu longest days in his life.

His socks had dissapear.

He failed herbology class.

Osamu was so excited, he hurriedly went to his dormitory again to open up the box. The package was cute, it had a yellowish color and a few words written all over it. A message could be read, courtesy of Atsumu.

"you can drink it in one go or save some for the match, good luck (:"

Osamu thought to himself. The best thing to do would be to take little by little every day, so he pulled out the little vial and taked a sip. He waited a few seconds to the potion to make something, but he was disappointed when he noticed that he didn't feel any different from before.

He putted the box under his pillow and went out to the common room. There he saw how you and your best friend played magical chess, and strangely enough, Osamu sat next to you.

— Do you want to go for a walk around the school?- he whispered in your ear, taking you by surprise.

— Y-Yes! Of course. Tsukishima!- you shouted across the room.- Come play against Atsumu's new girlfriend.

— I'm not his girlfriend! - the girl said while blushing.

As you both left the common room, you began to talk fluently. You two have always gotten along, not exactly friends, but rather good classmates or even teammates, but one thing was clear: both felt some kind of tension whenever you two were left alone.

Osamu felt unusually light, changing the conversation from topic to topic and overall going with the flow. Maybe the potion had finally worked?

Without noticing, both reached a dead end.

When you turned around, ready to leave, Osamu tooked your hand, waiting for something. He didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but out of nowhere, a door popped out of the wall.

Surprised, both passed through it. It was a room you had never seen before. It looked like the Slytherin common room, but with a double bed in the middle.

You both heard whispers nearby, so you rushed into the room and closed the door behind you. Osamu began to look around, touching and watching everything. Once he was too bored to continue, he threw himself into the bed and sighed tiredly. Moments later you imitated him, smiling.

After a few comfortable seconds of silence, Osamu took your hands in his own, and timidly began to play with your fingers.

— Samu...- You whispered.

— I really like you.- Your cheeks turned bright red at the sudden confession. Your mind going blank for a few seconds.- I-i don't know why i'm saying you all this, but i just needed to say you that.- Osamus voice was waivering, almost as if he was loosing his strength.- Maybe the potion?

— Its okay, Samu. I, I really like you too.

Osamu looked at you straight in the eyes as he timidly caressed your cheeks.

— Can i?- He asked quietly. You nodded, and moments later, he began to kiss you. His lips were soft and his hands rough, a really nice contrast that went well representing Osamus personality and actions.

Both let yourselves go for what seemed like hours. Without noticing, you ended up sitting on his lap, with Osamu's hands under your skirt squeezing your ass. You were ready to take the next step, but Osamu had other plans.

— We should go back.- He said breaking away from the kiss.

—Don't wanna.- You murmured approaching his lips yet again.

—Do you think I want to do it?- Said the boy frustrated. His dick was hard against his trousers, poking your entrance through the layers of clothing.- We need to go back. We will continue this later.

[...]

Osamu had the last bit of potion left in his hands.

He had save it for the Quidditch match against his brother. So when the day came, while all the houses were eating breakfast and talking, he poured the remains of the potion into his cup of coffee.

—Samu!- Shouted his brother, calling him to come over to his table. Osamu walked to the Gryffindors section and smiled to his brother teammates, wishing them good luck and making a little bit of small talk.

When Osamu returned to his seat, he saw you. He smiled and playfully patted your head as he tooked his place besides you. He threaten to kiss you, but he waited for you to finish your cup of coffee.

Cup of coffee?

Osamu widened his eyes in pure shock.

The coffee you were drinking was his, the one that contained the remains of the potion.

— Shit! No! Did you drank it all?

— Mmm? Yes. What happened? I can serve you another cup if you want it that bad.

— No you don't understand! Do you feel weird? Do you feel different?

— Naw I'm good Samu. We should hurry up, we need to win this game. And I promise you, I'm gonna catch the snitch before your idiot brother!

Osamu wanted to die.

It wasn't your fault that you drank the coffee that contained the last drop of Felix Felicis, it was his.

His bad luck had comeback.

[...]

The match was in a constant draw.

Osamu was doing his best trying to keep you safe of the bludgers and the Gryffindors attackers, but he was still worried of the potion side effects.

Nausea? Headaches? What would happen to you?

In just a second, Osamu lost you out of his sight.

You were now floating higher and higher than everybody else. Atsumu was right below you following the snitch. When suddenly, you jumped in the air, falling onto Atsumus broom and catching the snitch in the process. The crowd gasped in surprise. All the Slytherins shouted from the stands, yelling your name and jersey number.

Atsumu landed both of you safely in the ground, asking you if you were okay, but immediately after your answer he stomped out of the pitch. Murmuring insults to himself.

Everyone was happy, everyone excepted Osamu. What crossed through your mind?! Were you insane?!

As the Slytherins cheered you, Osamu followed the team from behind. Furious.

The tradition dictated that after winning an important quidditch match, all the slytherin team needed to go to the prefects bathroom to celebrate the win. They usually went without clothes, but this time, all the boys were wearing their bathing suits, due to the female presence of this year.

Osamu was in a bad mood. He didn't want to be there. But when he thought about you being in a tub surrounded by half naked men, he decided that he needed to go.

Your teammates jumped into the hot water, celebrating with butter beer and candy, but Osamu waited until you finished changing.

While leaving the cubicle, everyone saw you happily enter the bathtub. You were wearing a little bathing suit that complemented your skin color a little too well. They were all stunned for a few seconds, but upon hearing Osamu scratch his throat, everyone began to ignore you, or at least ignore your boobs.

Osamu approached you from behind silently, holding your waist with his strong hands while whispering in your ear:

— You are going to say that you feel bad, and we will leave this party.

— But Samuuu.- you whined. He looked at you with a serious expression, waiting.

You got out from the tub, excusing yourself with a silly lie with Osamu behind your back.

And there he saw it: a big purple bruise was starting to form in your ass. He blinked a few times, processing it. What's that from falling onto Atsumus broom? Was that from another guy?

As both of you dried yourselves up, and put some clothes on, Osamu grabbed your hand and started dragging you into the same corridors the magic door appeared the last time.

— I'm going to cure your bruise with magic.- Said Osamu in a low voice. He was absolutely fuming, not only did you drink his potion, you also putted yourself in danger.- Go and wait by the bed.- Silence overtook the cozy place, the only thing that could be heard was the soft crackling of the fire place.- Look, I'm pissed about what you did in the pitch. Yes, we won the game, yes, the potion helped you, but you saw what happened at the last minute. The effects runned out and you fell really hard onto Atsumus broom.

— Yeah.

Osamu sighed, trying to relax himself.

— Now, now. Lift your skirt, I'm going to heal you.

— You just want to see me naked.- He blinked a few times. Were you always this irritating? You were testing his patience a lot today.

He crouched down besides your legs. The position was, intimate but it was the only way he could possibly make the spell correctly.

—Now.

—Okay.- you lifted your skirt, instantly smiling when Osamu chocked in his own spit.- I was going to say you that i didn't have any panties on, but i guess that's what you wanted the whole time.- Osamu closed his eyes. The sight was... seductive, but in the end, you were making fun of him. Thats how you wanted things to be? Okay, he would play along, and nicely.

He grabbed your ass with his left hand and smiled as you hissed down his touch. He putted a little bit of pressure to the bruised area and said:

—Pass me my wand, I'm gonna cure this bruise, but I'm gonna leave my hand prints here if you don't behave. M'kay?

—Okay.

— Episkey.- The boy murmured while watching the bruise on your ass disappear.

As you turned around, he saw your juices dripping down your thighs. You laughed, trying to play confident, bringing one of your hands to your entrance, and opening it up to show him your gaping hole. Osamus mind exploded. Were you always this dumb?

He standed up, his dick hardening in his pants. You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous. Closing the distance between both of you, Osamu grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you wince in pain. He laughed at you for a brief moment.

— Can I?- He asked. You nodded, agreeing at what you thought was obvious. In contrast with his sweet words, his tongue was practically forcing its way into your mouth. Saliva dripped down your chin and your breath was stuck in your nose. The kiss was too overwhelming.

Was Osamu still mad? You tried to test that, biting his lip with such force that it made him bled. He opened his eyes, astonished.

— You should have listened darling.- The boy threw you onto the bed, cleaning his mouth as you falled comfortably on the white sheets. He was just so hot: his hair was disheveled, his lips swollen, everything about him was amazing.

— How are you going to teach me? Spanking me?

— Yeah, exactly.

You had seen Osamu make many expressions, but none of them were like this. His eyes were clouded with lust, but still piercing enough to make you nervous. The boy approached your figure once more, grabbing you strongly by the jaw and ordering you not to bite. You nodded, feeling small next to him.

Both began to kiss again, continuing with the intensity of the first kiss. Osamu released your jaw and proceeded to lower his hands over your bust, squeezing your breasts roughly. He began to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, but with how impatient you were for him to fuck you, you taked the shirt off for yourself.

Osamu spent some time playing with your now exposed breasts, biting your nipples and kneading them with his strong hands. Oh how much of a mess had you become. Breathy moans and swollen lips suit you really well. You tried to strip him from his clothes, but Osamu declined.

—Naw, I'm fucking you like this.

—Please Samu. Its not fair that I'm the only one nude here.

— Well its not fair that you drank my potion, so hurry up and get on your knees.- You complained, but still followed his orders. Palming his dick through his trousers you began to tease him a little bit, undoing his black belt and buttons, but taking your sweet, sweet time.

Osamu was growing impatient, so he himself bringed down his underwear, making his dick jump right in front of your face.

You let out a surprised squeal. You doubted that all of that could fit in your mouth, but you were decided to make him curl his toes and moan for you, so you started licking his tip with little kitten licks, savoring the taste of his precum and sucking his balls, but without taking him completely in your mouth. Osamu sighed, pushing his shaft into you.

— Stop that of you want to cum tonight.

You started bobbing your head up and down, trying to take all of his length but it was impossible. Your eyes became teary and you legs a trembling mess, you wanted him to fuck you so, so bad.

— Enough.- said the boy, making you stand up. He manhandled your body so you were lying down over his strong legs. Osamu began stroking your ass, playing with the fat of your thighs and the hem of your skirt. He smiled to himself, would you get mad if he..? Then with a sharp hit, he slapped you. With a loud moan, you squirmed in his lap. Your skin was stinging, but surprisingly, you didn't dislike that. What you did dislike, was the fact that Osamu was laughing at you. He gently caressed the reddened area, asking you if you were okay continuing. You nodded, but the boy wasn't happy about it.

— Use your words. Don't be dumb.

— Yes, I want to continue Samu.

— Perfect.- The boy continued the cycle a few more times: First spanking and then stroking the area.

— See? I told you I was going to teach you a lesson. If I tell you to open your mouth you oblige. If I tell you to scream my name, you do it, it's simple.- You nodded again and again. Blabbering things Osamu didn't understand.- Is it hard for you? Are you too dumb?- He maneuvered your body so your back was against his chest and started touching your pussy with light feathered touches, as if he was getting revenge for your previous teasing. He played with your swollen clit and hardened nipples, licking and saying sweet things in your ears.

— Please Samu. Fuck me please.

— I'm prepping you doll. Let me finger you a little more and you are ready to go. M'kay?

—No Samu, I'm ready please.- You plead with tears in your eyes. You couldn't endure this for too much time. Osamu sighed, slapping your clit with his left hand. The sudden pain made your body jump forward, moaning at the pleasure. He coated his fingers in your juices, thinking what he was going to do.

He made you go on all fours, positioning his dick into your entrance and slowly entering you. He hissed at how good you feel, stroking your now reddened ass and thighs. Meanwhile, you couldn't form a single thought. The only thing in your mind was how full your pussy felt.

Osamu was telling you something, something you couldn't quite catch on, but he began thrusting into you. His thrusts started nice and slow, letting you adjust to his girth, but as the time passed they became fast and strong, making you loose the balance in your hands, and it consequence, making you fall head first into the bed. Your moans became muffled by the soft pillows, but you could still heard Osamus grunts and moans.

— Such a pretty doll, wish you could be always this good. Apologize for taking the potion and I'm gonna let you cum.- Nothing.- Hey? Are you listening?- He grabbed your hair, making you wince in pain.

— M' sorry Osamu, am sorry.- you cried out.

— Yeah that's what I like to hear.

His trusts became irregular, he could feel the knot in his stomach tightened and his abs tingling, so he reached between your bodies and started playing with your swollen clit. Pinching the little bundle of nerves and slapping it a few times. That was the last push you needed to come. Your vision became full of stars and your pussy clenched around Osamus dick.

— Fuck.- He muttered. He wanted to prolong your orgasm as much as possible, but if you continued to spasm around him like that, he would cum deep into your pussy, so he needed to relax himself.

The thought was exciting, he imagined your little hole full of his cum. Would you get mad? Would you cry even more?

But with one final trust, Osamu pulled away, cumming all over the curve of your ass.

As the boy tried to stabilize his rapid breathing, he saw how much of a mess you had become. Your thighs quivering, his cum dripping down your ass and your pretty pussy glistening with your own juices.

— Need to drink that potion again.

[lunarfly]

Harmione Essay: the most underrated H/Hr hug

The Harry Potter movies did a great job at showing one part of book Harmione - they share lots of hugs. But this seemed to shift the attention from book Harmione hugs to movie Harmione hugs. And the situation is worse than you’d think. Many Harmione fans not only underrate some book hugs, but most don’t even know the existence of them. I’m going to be discussing the most underrated hug shared between Harry and Hermione. The one that happens in HBP after Dumbledore’s death. Here’s the hug I’m talking about:

They [Harry and Ginny] had reached the hospital wing. Pushing open the doors, Harry saw Neville lying, apparently asleep, in a bed near the door. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks, and Lupin were gathered around another bed near the far end of the ward. At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Lupin moved forward too, looking anxious. 

In this scene, Harry had just seen Dumbledore’s dead body and Ginny was taking him to the hospital wing on McGonagall’s orders. Right as Harry stepped in, he looked around, everyone started looking at him and Hermione jumped in his arms and hugged him. 

At first glance, this may seem like a regular H/Hr moment, just another one of their hugs. It may seem like nothing special, we don’t get a unique description of the hug like we did in OotP, for example, when Hermione “threw herself into a hug that nearly knocked him flat.” So you may think it’s not s big deal at all.

But it is.

We have quite a few things to keep in mind while analyzing this hug, one of them being the phrasing. As I said, this hug doesn’t get a unique description but there’s still one thing to note:

At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Lupin moved forward too, looking anxious.

Hermione didn’t just wrap her arms around him, she ran to him. She was probably standing at the other side of the room but as she heard the “sound of the doors opening”, she immediately saw Harry and ran up to him just to hug him! It’s such a sweet moment.

That’s not all though. It isn’t only cute, it’s also deep and emotional. To understand this, we’ll just have to take a look at the context of this hug, which gives it most of its depth and beauty. 

Here’s a rather long (sorry!) scene for some context:

Dumbledore turned back to look out of the fiery window; the sun was now a ruby red glare along the horizon. Harry walked quickly from the office and down the spiral staircase. His mind was oddly clear all of a sudden. He knew what to do.

Ron and Hermione were sitting together in the common room when he came back. “What does he want?” Hermione said at once. “Harry, are you okay?” she added anxiously.

“I’m fine,” said Harry shortly, racing past them. He dashed up the stairs and into his dormitory, where he flung open his trunk and pulled out the Marauder’s Map and a pair of balled-up socks. Then he sped back down the stairs and into the common room, skidding to a halt where Ron and Hermione sat, looking stunned.

“I’ve got to be quick,” Harry panted. “Dumbledore thinks I’m getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen. . . .”

Quickly he told them where he was going and why. He did not pause either for Hermione’s gasps of horror or for Ron’s hasty questions; they could work out the finer details for themselves later.

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?”

“Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

“I haven’t got time to argue,” said Harry curtly. “Take this as well —”

He thrust the socks into Ron’s hands.

“Thanks,” said Ron. “Er — why do I need socks?”

“You need what’s wrapped in them, it’s the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say good-bye to her for me. I’d better go, Dumbledore’s waiting —”

“No!” said Hermione, as Ron unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, looking awestruck. “We don’t want it, you take it, who knows what you’re going to be facing?”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be with Dumbledore,” said Harry. “I want to know you lot are okay. . . . Don’t look like that, Hermione, I’ll see you later. . . .”

And he was off, hurrying back through the portrait hole and toward the entrance hall.

So I’ve highlighted the parts to pay the most attention to.

Basically, Harry rushes into the common room after meeting Dumbledore, Hermione asks him what has happened and she notices that Harry looks worried and is in a rush. She asks him what has happened and she’s anxious because she’s already worried just by seeing the look on his face. Harry answers “shortly” and runs to get the marauders map and Felix Felicis to give them to Hermione and Ron. He explains everything to them quickly, leaving out the details, and tells them what to do with the map and to take the Felix Felicis because he’s sure that Draco has achieved something which means no good. And now he’s off to this dangerous mission out of Hogwarts with Dumbledore where his life could possibly be put in danger! Just imagine how Ron and Hermione feel right now. Their best friend is taking a huge risk and is taking part in fighting the dark arts and he might not even return. They’re both looking “stunned” and Hermione is gasping out of horror! That’s right. Her worries and fears are sky-high. And now, after this short explanation, while Harry is “racing”, “speeding” and “dashing” to do everything in time and he’s going so fast that he’s running out of breath, “panting”, he’s just going to leave without saying proper goodbyes. The fact that this is all happening in such a rush is extremely important and meaningful because Hermione doesn’t even get to say a proper goodbye, she’s so scared and worried that her eyes are “huge with fear”, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen to Harry, whether she’s even going to see him ever again, she’s ready to reject the liquid luck so Harry can be safe, she’s trying to convince him to take the liquid luck, even after Harry says he’ll be fine with Dumbledore. She’s giving him the look of disapproval but before she can say another word and say a proper goodbye, he’s off again, hurrying to meet Dumbledore and his own possible death.

Just imagine how Hermione is feeling right now. And if that isn’t bad enough, Harry’s prediction actually comes true and death eaters start attacking! Ron, Hermione and Ginny barely survive the attack just by luck, literally. And now, when it’s all over and Hermione’s standing in a room in the hospital wing, desperately waiting for news along with the whole Order, Harry comes in. And she completely loses it. She runs to him and hugs him. Now do you understand the emotion in this scene? Both of them nearly died, she was probably going crazy thinking what could’ve happened to him, Harry was thinking and worrying about her too (”How long had they been away? Had Ron, Hermione, and Ginny’s luck run out by now?” “ Would he be responsible, again, for the death of a friend?”) and now they finally see each other and Hermione is probably feeling lightheaded knowing that he’s safe (compare to the DoM scene in OotP) and she hugs him. She just can’t do otherwise. And all of the unsaid “I’m so glad you’re safe” and “I’ve been so worried about you”s are all expressed through a beautiful and emotional embrace.

Now we know how deep this scene truly is. And imagine how beautiful this scene would be on screen. So much lost potential. 

It brings a smile on my face imagining a worried Hermione running all the way across the room and flinging her arms tightly around Harry, hugging him and both of them looking so deeply relieved. Then quickly breaking apart as Lupin approaches “anxiously” and asks what Hermione doesn’t have the courage to ask. 

The continuation of this scene is also nice. It’s Lupin who asks how Harry is, while Hermione stays silent but still stays next to Harry.

Nobody answered. Harry looked over Hermione’s shoulder and saw an unrecognizable face lying on Bill’s pillow, so badly slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque.

This shows they are still standing near each other. 

And  later everyone else seems interested in the conversation about Dumbledore’s death and Snape’s betrayal but Hermione doesn’t say a word. Like she’s still petrified from everything that’s happened and now this happened too. 

Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth and Ron groaned.

[...]

Almost against his will he glanced from Ron to Hermione, both of whom looked devastated.

She looks “devastated” and doesn’t say a single word until Harry directly asks her, it almost reminds me of the scene at the hospital when Ron was poisoned.

“So if Ron was watching the Room of Requirement with Ginny and Neville,” said Harry, turning to Hermione, “were you — ?” 

“Outside Snape’s office, yes,” whispered Hermione, her eyes sparkling with tears, “with Luna. We hung around for ages outside it and nothing happened. . . . We didn’t know what was going on upstairs, Ron had taken the map. . . . It was nearly midnight when Professor Flitwick came sprinting down into the dungeons. He was shouting about Death Eaters in the castle, I don’t think he really registered that Luna and I were there at all, he just burst his way into Snape’s office and we heard him saying that Snape had to go back with him and help and then we heard a loud thump and Snape came hurtling out of his room and he saw us and — and —” 

The rest is irrelevant. I just thought I’d mention that Hermione is whispering and she’s almost crying, on top of all of the battles and duels she went through and all the worries and fears she had before seeing Harry alive, now she’s shocked from the news of Dumbledore. This girl is so strong. 

I know I wrote a little more than I should’ve but I just really love this moment. Their care for each other, their worries and their fears, that’s what strengthens their bond. They have the most emotional relationship out of everyone in the series. This hug was truly beautiful and much, much more than just a hug. 

And to end this essay, I thought I’d give you something about hugs (they happen over 5 times between H/Hr in the books) in general:

“We love to feel loved, and we love to feel good. Hugs satisfy both needs. When you touch someone affectionately, sit or stand close to them, gaze into their eyes, or wrap them in a big bear hug, our body responds on all levels: emotionally, cognitively, and physiologically.

Oxytocin — the human love drug — is also released when we hug. This hormone reduces blood pressure and stress hormones. According to Medical News Today, oxytocin ‘contributes to relaxation, trust, and psychological stability.’ Over time, it makes us feel bonded with another person.

Oxytocin provides feelings of pleasure, contentment, happiness, and even euphoria. These feels feel great — and they’re good for you.”

[ohscorbus]

i live in canada so it takes some planning to be able to get to new york so returns/FF aren't too feasible but thank you darling! trying to stay optimistic. (sorry if u get this twice idk if the first one sent)

Yeah that’s why I said we have it easy here. I live halfway up the country but I can still jump on a train and get to London and back on the same day. It’s unfair that the majority of you won’t be able to do last minute trips like that since that’s how I’ve got the majority of my tickets. Although I’m really not familiar with Broadway or Ticketmaster. I’m not sure how they’re handling unsold/returned tickets.

But still, I hate that this essentially comes down to money and location. It’s two things few people are able to change on a whim.

[writing-red]

The Maroon Jumper | 4

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings: the reader not eating due to stress/events (please eat I love you all :), Nightmares, cursing, people being general assholes

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: I have to note that this includes direct quotes from Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince by J.K R*wling so the ending includes a citation just so I cover my own ass :) This is only for fun and fictional purposes not anything else!

Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

If Draco had been bothered by what he or you smelled in the Amortenia, he only made it known to you at that moment after class. As the next day, you were back to breakfast with him and his posse as usual. He was starting to act normal, well, normal for this year, which was still odd. Honestly, thinking about it too much hurt your head. Your only real respite was Hermione. Harry, of course, had apologized and made up with you; not only was it November and quidditch was taking up plenty of his time, but Harry was ripe with theories that Draco was a Death Eater. While you knew the possibility was there, it wasn’t something you were willing to think about right now. As for quidditch practice,   neither you nor Hermione minded much, you even often attended practices for the opportunity at getting some fresh air. But even with everything going on the year moved forward, and you were being pulled along.

The morning of the Gryffindor/Slytherin quidditch game, you elected to eat breakfast with your friends, which was proving to be a rare occurrence this year. Of course, this choice, as well as the gold and red jumper and makeup you had donned in brazen support of your house, earned you nasty looks from Blaise and Pansy, along with the loud boos and chants from the Slytherin table when you walked, but you elected to ignore them, your excitement for today’s match outweighing any jeers your rival house could throw your way. 

The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry, Ron, and Ginny approached. Harry and Ginny grinned and waved while Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head. You and Hermione followed shortly behind.

“Cheer up, Ron!” you heard Lavender call. “I know you’ll be brilliant!”

Hermione rolled your eyes, and you giggled at Brown’s idiotic flirting, but Ron just ignored her, instead, wallowing in self-pity.

“Tea?” Harry asked Ron. “Coffee? Pumpkin juice?”

“Anything,” said Ron.

“How are you both feeling?” Hermione asked, trying to break through the awkward air.

“Fine,” said Harry, who was nearly ignoring Hermione and concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. “There you go, Ron. Drink up.”

As Ron began to drink, Hermione interrupted, “Don’t drink that, Ron!”

“Why not?” asked Ron.

Hermione was now staring at Harry, “You just put something in that drink.”

“Excuse me?” said Harry.

“You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron’s drink. You’ve got the bottle in your hand right now!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket, it clearly being the bottle of Felix Felicis he had won in potions class earlier in the term.

“Ron, I warn you, don’t drink it!”

Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, “Stop bossing me around, Hermione.”

You scoffed at his attitude, and Hermione cut you off before you could say anything.

“You should be expelled for that. I’d never have believed it of you, Harry!” She said, her tone lower so only you five could hear her.

“Look who’s talking,” he whispered back. “Confunded anyone lately?”

You all watched as she stormed up the table away from them.

“I should probably go after her,” you said. “Good luck today guys, and just in case you didn’t already know Harry, Malfoy isn’t playing today, something about being sick which is bogus,” you said, your voice dropping into the same hushed tone as Hermione’s had been.

“See you after the game?” Harry asked, and you nodded.

“Of course,” you responded. “You’d better win.” With that, you left, following the route Hermione had taken.

It didn’t take you long to find her as she hadn’t gone very far. She was near the courtyard, hiding underneath a large stone staircase.

“Hermione,” you said, pleading with her to forget the events that had just transpired and accompany you to the match. “Please.”

“Fine, but for you and Ginny, not the boys,” the two of you knew each other probably a little too well at this point.

“I love you, you know that?” You asked, a smile breaking onto your face.

“You’d better,” she said grumpily as she took your arm and began the walk to the quidditch pitch.

You and Hermione sat next to Luna, who had thankfully saved you fantastic seats despite neither of you asking, and luckily you had arrived just as both teams were rising into the air. You adored the sport of quidditch, but you loved cheering on your friends even more. The matches were one of your favourite things about school, and it was a relief to finally take your mind off everything else and simply enjoy something.

“Well, there they go, and I think we’re all surprised to see the team that Potter’s put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley’s patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, close personal friendship with the Captain does help,” you heard Zacharias Smith, who played for Hufflepuff, cut through the roar Luna’s lion hat and you rolled your eyes.

“What an arse,” you said, and Hermione chuckled, her mood lightening.

With half an hour of the game past, Gryffindor was leading sixty points to zero, Ron and Ginny’s performance had gotten Zacharias off their case, instead, picking on Peakes and Coote instead.

“Of course, Coote isn’t really the usual build for a Beater,” said Zacharias loftily, “they’ve generally got a bit more muscle —”

“Hit a Bludger at him!” you heard Harry call to Coote as he zoomed past.

But Coote, grinning broadly, chose to aim the next Bludger at Harper instead, who was just passing Harry in the opposite direction. You cheered when the bludger found its target, and you saw Smith’s face go white with fear. You continued to watch as Harry and Harper chased down the snitch. They were far enough away from where you were sitting that you had a hard time seeing what was going on. It wasn’t until Harry started flying back down to the ground with his hand high above his head and his fist clenched that you and the rest of your house realize that he had caught the snitch, and Gryffindor had won. You, Luna, and Hermione shouted so loudly that you didn’t even hear the whistle that indicated the end of the game.

Hermione tugged on your sweater to get your attention, “C’mon, I want to go talk to the boys.”

“Luna! We’re gonna go find Harry and Ron, see you later!” You shouted so your friend could hear you, and she nodded and smiled in response.

Once you and Hermione made it to the changing rooms, the rest of the team had gone. It looked like both of the boys were just getting ready to leave themselves. It had taken you a while to fight through the crowds of angry Slytherins and elated Gryffindors to get there.

“I want a word with you, Harry.” Hermione took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal.”

“What are you going to do, turn us in?” Ron asked, immediately taking the offence.

“What are you two talking about?” asked Harry, he had turned his back on all of you as he hung up his robes.

“Harry we saw you put the Felix Felicis in Ron’s drink this morning,” you said.

“No, I didn’t,” said Harry turning back around, a sly smile on his face, and you started to catch on while Ron and Hermione still hadn’t gotten it.

“Yes you did, Harry, and that’s why everything went right, Slytherin players were missing, and Ron saved everything!” Hermione said, her volume low in fear someone was listening in to what she was saying.

“I didn’t put it in!” Harry, as he pulled out the tiny sealed bottle full of golden liquid. “I wanted Ron to think I’d done it, so I faked it when I knew you were all looking.” He turned to Ron. “You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself.”

Ron and Hermione’s reactions caused Harry to chuckle, and you to smile.

“There really wasn’t anything in my pumpkin juice?” Ron asked, and Harry shook his head. After wrapping his head around it all, he turned on Hermione, his voice raised in an attempt to mimic her voice. “You added Felix Felicis to Ron’s juice this morning, that’s why he saved everything!’ See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!”

“I never said you couldn’t — Ron, you thought you’d been given it too!” said Hermione, clearly offended by Ron’s rude imitation.

“Ron, really, she was just looking out,” you said, taking Hermione’s side as you so often did.

But Ron just picked up his things and pushed his way through both and shoved open the door, rudely rushing out.

You turned around sharply, angry at his sudden attitude. “There’s no reason to be a prick to your friends Ronald,” you shouted through the open door, but he continued to walk away, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“Er. Shall, shall we go up to the party, then?” Harry asked, unsure of what else he could say as he realized that his plan had backfired in a way he hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, it’ll be a perfect excused for me to knock some sense into that prick.”

“You go! I’m sick of Ron at the moment. I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done,” you and Hermione spoke at the same time.

However, Hermione caught on faster than you could, “You two go.”

You gave her a questionable look.

“Seriously, go. It’ll feel good to know someone’s telling him off,” she said, her tone even but her eyes starting to well up, but before either of you could say anything, she swiftly exited the changing room choosing a different route than the one Ron had taken.

“Well congrats on a good game Harry,” you said and sighed, causing Harry to chuckle awkwardly in an attempt to release some of the tension that had built in the last couple of minutes.

“She doesn’t realize Ron is miffed at her because she went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, does she?” He asked.

“And he doesn’t realize she’s pissed at him because he won’t stop being a prick and just ask her out, does he?” 

“Touché,” Harry said, and you smiled.

“I’ve missed you, Potter,” and with that, you both slowly walked back up to the castle, many congratulating him as you walked by, and some Slytherin’s giving you questioning or nasty looks, some a combination of both, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were with Potter or because Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin, or if because you were with the Captain of the quidditch team who had just beaten their own team. You didn’t even consider the fact that it could be because you were with the guy your ‘boyfriend’ hated the most.

The Gryffindor celebration party was in full swing when you arrived causing the Common Room to be packed to the brim, not allowing you or Harry to see if Hermione had ended up here. It didn’t help that the second you entered, Harry was swamped by an assortment of girls as well as the Creevy brothers. Despite having to split up, you found Harry again along with Ginny at the drink table, and just as you arrived, you saw Hermione run out of the common room.

“Harry!” You said, just loud enough for him and Ginny to hear. “I think you should go after her. She may be sick of Ginny and my’s advice at this point.”

He nodded in agreement and rushed off after her.

“Yeah, which is to forget the prick,” Ginny said, and both of you giggled.

“So Ginny, how are things going between you and Luna?”

After that night, things were tense. You had quickly taken Hermione’s side and was ignoring Ron. On the other hand, Harry was determined to split his time between the two, so you were still seeing very little of him.

Not a week later you were visited by your family owl for the second time this year. This time the owl dropped the letter between you and Draco. You were again thankful to notice that the envelope shined silver and not red.

“Shit,” you said when it dropped, clearly disturbed by the presence of the letter.

“Well that looks exciting,” Draco said, pushing the letter towards you, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t make me read it,” you whined, and Draco cracked a small smile.

“It can’t be that bad love,” he said.

You gave him a look, no letter from your parents could ever be less than bad. Nevertheless, you delicately peeled open the envelope and extracted the heavy parchment that awaited you.

‘Y/n,

I have been informed that you have started spending time with Draco since my last letter, and I am glad to hear that after six years at that school, you have finally found some suitable company and are no longer choosing to poison your time by spending it with mudbloods.

Now, as you know, I have arranged plans with Narcissa for your Winter Holiday. You and Draco shall be travelling from Hogwarts directly to Malfoy Manor. Since you will be meeting his parents before you see your father and I, I demand that you look presentable, and remember the manners I’ve taught you. Your father and I will meet you at Malfoy Manor the night you return from school for dinner. As you will be staying with the Malfoy’s for the entirety of the holiday and not be returning home, I will pack and send the clothing I find suitable for you to wear throughout this visit. I do not find it necessary for myself to be involved in the wedding planning; therefore, I am leaving it up to Narcissa, who has said that she will take the time with you to plan. Your father and I will occasionally be visiting, but I expect for you to be on your best behaviour while we are not there.

You know the consequences should you decide to not take this seriously.

Signed,

Layah Y/l/n.’

When you finished reading all you could do was sigh. Not that you didn’t expect it, but seeing the words on paper in your mothers script felt like a knife to the gut. You handed Draco the letter for him to read, you couldn't not bring yourself to speak, and you were unaware whether he had been made known of these plans or not.

He read the letter rather quickly then tucked it back into its silver envelope and handed it back to you. “Well then,” he said.

“Aren’t they just so much fun?” You asked as you tucked the letter into your bag, fake enthusiasm and sarcasm lacing your voice.

Your joke caused another small smile to rise to Draco’s lips. “I am very excited to meet them again,” his statement reeking of sarcasm.

“I promise it will be the time of your life,” you said and he shook his head, ridding himself of the laugh that was rising in his chest.

“Meet me at the library this evening after class?” His tone made the sentence sound like a question, but you knew it was a statement, although you didn’t mind much, so you nodded in response. You appreciated the somewhat friendly banter that had finally blossomed between you.

You walked to your first class with Draco and Blaise, only changing ways once you had Divination. You were the only sixth year in the class, which didn’t surprise you, your peers all hated the course and had been excited to drop it this year, but you were a natural and found the class to be quite peaceful. Your  classes went on naturally, which was pleasant as you had plenty on your mind with your mother’s letter. You were out of class and in the library by 5:15. You found Draco in the large leather armchairs he had chosen to use during your first study session, and that had become a bit of a tradition at this point.

“Evening, Draco,” you said civilly as you sat in the chair across from him and began pulling some books out of your bag.

“I’m just curious when you were planning on asking your boyfriend to Slughorn’s Christmas party?” Draco asked, not even looking up from his book.

You looked up. The event had honestly barely even cross your mind since you had received your invitation. “Oh, yes, Draco, would you mind accompanying-”

“Yes,” he said, curtly cutting you off.

“Draco, there is no need to be an arse about it, alright? I'm sorry for not asking sooner,” you bit back at him.

“I just don’t know why he doesn’t bloody invite me to those dinners. I’m a Malfoy for Salazar’s sake,” you weren't sure that was the real reason, but you knew that he wouldn't tell you either way.

You shook your head. “Well, I’m not the person to take your frustration out on,” you said. “I’m sorry for not asking you, but it wasn’t intentional.”

“Surprised you didn’t ask Potter,” he said under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, the volume of your voice rising. You had heard what he said but you wanted to give him the chance to redeem himself.

“I said I’ll pick you up at eight,” he hissed, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

“What got your knickers in a twist?” you muttered.

“Pardon me?” he questioned.

“Nothing, darling,” you said, giving him a sickly sweet smile before opening up your book. What is it with this boy and his bloody mood swings? The study session went on in the same hostile tone, and every time you spoke to each other, it was in an attempt to piss off the other. You made snide remarks about him and he would bite back with rude remarks about your choice in company. Draco walked you to the Great Hall, keeping your hand in a tight grip the entire time, but when you arrived, standing in the doorway, you ripped your hand out of his and left him to go sit with Harry, and Hermione, keeping eye contact with him until you sat down. A scowl resting on your face once you broke the eye contact to turn to your friends who were absolutely silent having observed you since your grand entrance.

“What was that about?” Harry asked. Not only did he witness your little stint with Malfoy, but he could feel your icy demeanour from the second you stepped into the Hall.

“Do I need a reason?” your attitude was still sour. “It’s Malfoy.”

“What did he do this time?” Hermione asked.

“What didn’t the fucker do?” you asked as you violently added food to your plate.

“Hello everyone,” it was Draco behind you, his tone starkly sweet compared to how it had been in the library. “Mind if I sit?”

You refused to turn around and give him the time of day, but the entirety of your house had dropped their forks, forgotten about their food, and were staring at the platinum blonde as he squeezed onto the bench in-between you and Hermione.

“Yes,” you said, keeping your eyes on Harry who was across from you. “We do mind. Anyways, why aren’t you sitting at your table with your minions?”

“I thought it’d be pleasant for me to get to know your friends, love,” he said. It was a load of bullshit, of course, you just didn’t know why he wanted to fuck with you so badly tonight. 

“Malfoy-” Harry started.

“Hey, everyone! Woah-” Ginny said as she approached the four of you. “Is that Malfoy?” she asked Harry as if the boy before her was a fake.

“Yes, he’s really here,” you said. “You know what Gin? Go ahead and pinch him just to be sure.”

Draco started picking food off of your plate, food that you had elected to ignore. “I don’t think that’s how that works darling,” he said nonchalantly prompting you to scoff.

“What is this about?” Hermione asked him.

“Can’t I eat dinner with my girlfriend and her friends?” He asked, smiling at her, which you thought was the first time you had ever seen that.

Nearly every student at Hogwarts was staring at you now, no one could believe the events that were transpiring right before their eyes. Even some of the professors were staring, although mainly Slughorn and Dumbledore were engaged in the drama transpiring.

You, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry all exchanged looks, eventually silently figuring out that he would not be leaving anytime soon. And, the silence that filled the Hall as you deliberated was deafening.

“So what are your plans for the holiday?” Hermione finally asked, her words seeming to echo around the near quiet room, but she was sick of the silence.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t told you yet,” Draco responded as he started eating grapes off of Ginny’s plate.

Ginny pulled her plate out of Draco’s reach. “It’s not like you give her much time to talk to us.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that we’ve just got lots of planning to do,” he said as he put his hand over your left.

Harry scoffed and shook his head at the ridiculous nature of Draco’s tone.

“What’s the matter, Potter?” He asked. “Mad that I ended up with the girl you like to snog at parties?”

You almost choked when the words came out of his mouth, while Hermione and Ginny both turned to look at you, eyes wide as they processed the information Draco threw out onto the table

“I’m sorry Malfoy,” Harry said through clenched teeth. “I think you were just drunk and seeing things.”  

“To my recollection, you two were the drunk ones. Very, very drunk. Anyways I’m sure you’ve done it both drunk and sober, what with the way she wears your sweaters and cheers you on at Quidditch games.”

“Quidditch games you’re to chicken to play at because you know I’ll beat you?”

“Gentlemen!” when you heard McGonagall’s voice, you sighed in relief. “Mr Malfoy, Professor Snape is requesting your presence, he’d like to speak with you regarding your prefect duty tonight.”

Draco released his tight grip on your hand and gave everyone the fakest smile you’d ever seen. “It was a pleasure eating dinner with you all, really it was quite amusing. We should do this again some time,” he said, then swung his legs back over the bench, and swiftly departed.

“Everyone, go back to your dinners, gawking is rude,” said McGonagall loudly, then returned to her seat at the top of the hall.

“I’m going to bed,” you said and rose departing the hall, not having touched your food.

You exited the Hall quickly, viciously aware of all of the eyes following you out. You couldn’t help but imagine the rumours that would be flying around the school tomorrow, but you did your best to push them out of your head. You tore into your common room, halfway between your exit from the Great Hall and your walk to your dorm you had started crying, and the last thing you wanted was for someone to see you cry. Clearly, sometime between breakfast and 5:15pm, someone had told Draco Malfoy that you and Harry had been sneaking around behind his back which just wasn’t true. And what was even more clear that Draco was livid about it, and you weren’t sure if he would listen to your excuses this time. You weren’t sure how long but at some point after you found your bed Hermione and Ginny entered your dorm.

“Y/n?” Hermione asked softly when she saw you lying on your bed, your face buried in a pillow.

“I’m sorry-”

“For what? Not telling us that you occasionally snog Harry?” Ginny asked. “Who cares, I mean it's in the past, and I think we’re both more curious how that came about, we’re not pissed at you.”

“Still,” you said as you dragged yourself up into a sitting position, your face streaked in mascara and tears. “I should’ve told you I don’t know why I didn’t

“Sure you should have but the thing is, we’re your friends, and we’re here for you through everything. We aren’t going to judge you for something like that,” Hermione said and, she and Ginny took seats on opposite sides of you.

“I’m just more curious what it was like,” Ginny teased and nudged you with her shoulder.

“Now tell us why Draco was acting so weird because I have a feeling that you know,” Hermione said.

“He thinks Harry and I are sneaking around behind his back,” you said. “Which we aren’t.”

“Anything else?” Hermione asked, why did she have to be so smart?

“And in potions when we were brewing Amortentia he smelled me, I think, and I started to smell him I think but the scent disappeared while I was trying to smell it. Slughorn explained that happens when you’re unsure of your feelings.”

Ginny ran a hand through your hair comfortingly. “Malfoy is so bloody dramatic,” she muttered.

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, your voice had started getting hoarse from the crying.

“Maybe you should tell him?” Hermione said. “He’s had his reasonable moments in the past with you. And Y/n?” you looked up at her. “It’s a pretty big deal if he smelled you in the Amortentia.”

“He said that he smelled ‘Vanilla, old books, peonies, and firewhiskey’” You recounted.

“Shit that son of a bitch is astute,” Ginny said.

“Yeah, that’s pretty exact,” Hermione whispered regarding the potion, considering the possibility that Malfoy was indeed in love with you. “Y/n why don’t you take a shower, go to bed, and talk to Draco in the morning?”

You nodded, “That’s probably a good idea.”

Hermione woke you up the next morning from a restless sleep. The entire night you were riddled with nightmares in anticipation of the coming weeks, of your father and mother, and the darkness your world was about to be enveloped in. After you both got ready, she walked you down to the Great Hall, where you split once you arrived. You approached the head of Slytherin’s table, where Draco was perched, slowly, anxiety boiling angrily in your stomach.

“Good morning,” you said to everyone there once you arrived. “Draco do you mind if we step outside and talk?”

He shared a look with Blaise that lasted a long moment before turning to you and giving you a single nod. He rose and followed you out of the hall, and out of the castle into the now empty courtyard.

“What is it?” He asked impatiently, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you started. “Draco I haven’t been spending much time with Harry, even as a friend. But I haven’t been sneaking around behind your back with him.”

“Really because that's not what I’ve heard,” he snarled.

“After the quidditch match Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I got into an argument in the changing rooms. Hermione and Ron stormed off, and Harry and I just walked back up to our common room together, that’s all,” you explained. “And the sweater is mine, I just like them larger cause I like tucking them into my jeans.”

As you were talking, Draco started pacing around the courtyard and running a hand through his hair. “You have to understand how it looked, you and Harry leaving a changing room together, alone.”

You nodded. “Of course, I just sometimes need you to not assume the worst of me.”

As you finished, he stopped his pacing and looked at you. “Alright, is that it?”

“No,” you said, as you started to become a bit more confident. “I, well I smelled you- in the Amortentia in Slughorn’s class but,” you paused, afraid of what you were about to admit. “But, Draco I’m- scared.” you finally caught his eyes and made eye contact, and you paused for a moment to try and drag your thoughts into comprehensible sentences. “I’m scared of my parents, I’m scared of the war that's coming, I’m scared of my feelings for you because how am I supposed to know how you feel about me when one moment you’re yelling at me and hurting me then the next you’re buying me books and joking with me?” You wiped your eyes, angry at the tears that were forming, you hated crying in front of him, you hated looking weak in front of him. “Draco what happens if I fall in love with you just for you to do something awful? You- you can’t trust me! And fuck Draco that hurts. Merlin, Draco I’ve been trying to not fancy you since our third bloody year, but you've always just made it so hard."

He stared at you in disbelief, of course, he didn’t know this you didn’t once make it obvious which he was aware was intentional. He didn’t know how to respond, what to say. He had loved you for so long and he couldn’t believe that you reciprocated his feelings in the slightest. He could tell you that you held his heart in your hand and that if you wanted to crush it, you could. That he would never be able to love anyone else. But, he was still Voldemort’s errand boy tasked with something terrible he couldn’t rope you into. He loved you, and he would rather be the source of your pain than the cause of your death.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said, unable to meet your eyes.

“Look me in the eyes and say that Draco,” you said, entirely shocked by his words.

But he didn’t. Instead, he turned and left you in the middle of the courtyard, utterly alone.

-

You weren’t sure whether or not Draco was still planning on picking you up for Slughorn’s Christmas Party, but you decided to get ready and go anyways, everything about your relationship had been unpredictable this far, and you didn’t expect that to change now. The two of you hadn’t spoken since that morning in the courtyard, and you had stopped eating meals with him and the rest of the Slytherins entirely. Of course, plenty of drama was circulating, rumours about your relationship on everyone’s lips but you had gotten good at blocking it out. You donned a cherry red dress along with gold accessories, hoping that if Draco did accompany you, he would despise your chosen colour pallet, you had to admit that sometimes you found joy in pissing him off. You weren’t ready to go until 8:27pm at which time you descended down into the common room and out of the Fat Lady’s portrait into the Hall where you found Draco dressed in a slick black suit.

“You showed up,” you observed coldly.

“I never miss appointments,” He said as he offered you his arm.

Still livid with him you refused it, walking away towards the dungeons where Slughorn’s office resided. Your pace was quick but not rushed, easily defined as elegant, and it took Draco a moment to catch up to you.

“Keep up Malfoy,” you said, keeping your gaze ahead of you.

The two of you did not exchange another word for the entirety of the walk, Draco simply confused by your behaviour as he had only seen you act like this at society events. The cold demeanour you donned not unlike that of many purebloods he knew. When you did arrive at the party, you took his arm and plastered a fake but convincing smile on your face before entering.

“Ah! Miss Y/l/n,” Slughorn exclaimed excitedly when you entered. “And Mr Malfoy, well don’t the two of you just make the most handsome couple! You know I paired up Lucius and Narcissa in a couple of projects their sixth year before they started dating?” He said, more to Draco than to you.

“Well, then I owe you, my life Professor!” Draco said with a charming smile.

He bellowed in laughter at the half-hearted joke. “You could certainly say that young boy! Now I hope you two enjoy tonight, and Miss. Y/l/n, please come speak to me when you have a moment. Now- ah have you seen where Mr Potter has disappeared to?”

You shook your head. “Professor we’ve just gotten here, you’re the first person we’ve seen!” 

“Ah my dear tell me how you didn’t end up sorted into Ravenclaw,” Slughorn chuckled again before disappearing.

“I’m going to get a drink would you like anything?” You asked Draco, walking away before he could respond.

When you arrived at the elaborate bar, a red drink in a coupe glass caught your eye. You picked that up for yourself, and a silverly drink in a whiskey glass for Draco. You turned to return to your date when you saw Ginny and Luna arm in arm.

“Good evening! You both look lovely, Luna I adore your earrings,” you said and smiled, excited to finally see them together, Ginny had confessed her crush on the Ravenclaw to you last year.

“I was so excited when she said yes I can’t believe I forgot to tell you,” Ginny said shamelessly, and you caught Luna blush.

“Oh Merlin don’t worry, I’m just happy for you. Have you told-” you trailed off, Ginny well aware of the nature of your question.

“I told Ron and Harry last week, I plan on telling mum and dad when I get home,” she said, absolutely beaming.

“Gin! I’m so happy for you, you have to tell me everything when we get back, alright?” You said she had told you and Hermione back in her third year, and you were so happy she was ready to come out to her parents and family.

Ginny dropped Luna’s hand for a moment to hug you around the glasses you were carrying. “Thank you for everything, Y/n,” she whispered.

“I'm here for you through everything Gin,” you promised. “Now you two have fun tonight!”

“It is a perfect night,” Luna said thoughtfully. “Tell Draco hello for me, Y/n.” She said, and with that, she and Ginny disappeared into the crowd, Draco appearing in the spot behind them.

You reached out the drink you had picked up for him, and he accepted it. “They’re together?”

“They are here as a date, yes,” you said, anticipating nothing but judgement from him.

“Then Blaise owes me five galleons,” he said, and you looked at him questionably. “He always thought she’d end up with Hannah Abbott, I was sure Weasley would end up with Lovegood, and it looks like I was right.”

You were surprised Draco hadn’t had a more offensive bet with his friend, but you decided to not challenge him on it. “Yeah she’s fancied Luna for over a year now, it’s all she talks about.” As you were taking a sip of your drink, you noticed Harry across the room getting cornered by Slughorn and Snape. “Draco I’d like to go ask Harry if he’s seen Hermione if you don’t mind.” You expected a fight, but Draco just shook his head and indicated for you to lead the way.

“Y/n! I was just thanking Professor Snape for providing me with such well prepared students,” Slughorn exclaimed as you and Draco approached him.

Snape nodded, “Mr Malfoy and Y/l/n, have been quite talented in potions since their first year.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you thanked both your teachers, although you were acutely aware of some tension between Draco and Snape.

“I’d like a word with you, Draco,” Snape said suddenly, seemingly coming up with this out of thin air. “Follow me, Draco.”

They left, Snape leading the way, Malfoy suddenly looking resentful at his Head of House pulling him away, and you and Harry exchanged looks.

“I’ll be back in a bit, Y/n — er — bathroom,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Wait! Harry have you seen Hermione?” You asked quickly.

“She’s avoiding McLaggen!” He called, not bothering to look back, intent on his mission to follow Malfoy.

“Oh to be young and to have a date to run from,” Slughorn hiccuped. “What are your plans for the holiday dear?”

“Well, my family has arranged for me to stay with the Malfoy’s as they’ll be travelling and they don’t trust me to be home alone,” you lied through your teeth with a smile on your face.

“Do enjoy yourself dear,” he said and smiled.

You nodded as you prepared your next lie, “Of course I will sir, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go look for Hermione.”

“Go! Go! Don’t let me keep you enjoy the party!” he said, ushering you away and turning to two of the Weird Sisters who had appeared.

It took you a few minutes, but you eventually found your friend hiding behind some fabrics. You had seen her silhouette outlined through the material and instantly recognized her. You quickly slipped behind the decorative curtain, which spooked her.

“Woah! Y/n, how’d you find me,” she sighed, relieved it was you and not McLaggen.

“I’m just a good friend,” you said and smiled. “Is he really that bad?”

“I don’t know if it was even worth it,” she admitted.

“Well when Snape found Draco and me, he decided he had to have a word with him, and Harry followed them out,” you said.

“No, he did not,” said Hermione as she rolled her eyes, fully aware that Harry had followed the two.

“Yes, so I’m sure this means we’ll be getting more Death Eater conspiracies,” you scoffed.

“At least you’re here now to save me from my nasty date.” “Does his breath smell as bad as I said it would?” You asked.

Hermione nodded slowly, and you giggled, “I knew it!”

You and Hermione flitted around the party for a while longer although when you got tired of dodging McLaggen and realized that neither Harry nor Draco would be returning, you both decided to head back to your dormitory. Hermione still had to pack, and you just wanted to get a good nights sleep considering your next two weeks would be spent at Malfoy Manor. But, of course, neither of you went to bed until around two in the morning, electing instead to stay up and talk, about everything ahead of you, and her about Ron and Harry’s idiocy. You knew that once you fell asleep, you wouldn’t have your best friend again for two weeks, no letters, not a word.

You awoke to a grey sky and rain, the weather reflecting exactly how you felt. You had been dreading this day since September and here it was. It didn’t take you long to get dressed and to get your things together, but once you did, you had wished it had taken you longer. Once you had your things together, you and Hermione walked to the Great Hall where you assumed you would be meeting Draco.

“I’m going to miss you,” said Hermione as you approached the entrance to the Hall.

“I’m going to miss you more,” you said, and dropped your bags, hugging her tightly.

“I would tell you to write,” she said, chuckling sadly.

“Not if my parents have any say in the matter,” you said as you released each other from the hug. You gave her a smile, and forced a positive attitude. “We’ll see each other soon! Two weeks is nothing.”

Hermione was well aware that you were trying to convince yourself of this fact, but she let you fake a smile for your own sake. “Exactly,” she said.

“See you soon,” you said again before finally leaving her, and heading to the Slytherin table.

It was only Draco and Blaise sitting there, which perplexed you although you chose to not remark on the fact, instead, revelling in the lack of Pansy’s cold glare as well as Crabbe and Goyle’s incessant remarks for one morning.

“Morning, Y/l/n,” Blaise said when you approached the table as he was the first to notice you.

“Good Morning Blaise.”

“Morning, darling,” Draco piped as if last night had simply not happened.

“Blaise and I missed you when you disappeared last night,” you remarked, beside the fact that you and Blaise had not spoken last night, despite this Blaise seemed amused by your antics. “You didn’t even come to say goodnight.”

“Yeah mate, where did you disappear to? I was hoping you'd tuck me into bed,” He asked.

“Snape dragged me off to have me do a couple of things and by the time we were done I figured you’d both be asleep,” Draco explained, although the fist he was making around his fork was telling you otherwise.

“Well then Zabini and I will have to have a word with Professor Snape,” you teased, and Blaise chuckled, that was a first.

Draco rolled his eyes at both of you, “Let’s just get to the train, we wouldn't want to miss it.”

“No, but Y/l/n has to challenge Professor Snape to a duel for stealing her boyfriend!” Blaise said a little too loud, attracting a glare from Professor McGonagall, and a series of giggles from you.

You playfully kicked Blaise from under the table, “Shut up, Zabini! You’re gonna manage to get me detention over the break.”

“Which is exactly why we should be going,” Draco said, giving both of you dirty looks.

“Fine, but for the record, you’re a buzzkill,” said Blaise, rising from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at his friend.

As the three of you exited the Hall, you looked over to the Gryffindor table to see your friends still seated, and you were sure that you were not going to have the chance to say goodbye to Harry, Ron, or Ginny, which you had to find peace with for the time being. Once you boarded the train, you continued to follow them into their usual compartment, which was on the opposite side of the train from the one you frequented. When you sat next to Draco and across from Blaise, all humour fell away, and the reality of your situation set in, and you were suddenly sick to your stomach.

“Y/n, are you alright? You’ve turned green.” Draco noticed after a moment.

“I just get a bit sick sometimes on the train,” you said quietly.

“We haven’t started moving-” said Blaise, and Draco shot him a glare, silently telling him to shut up.

“Sorry, I’ll be fine don’t worry about me,” you said and received nods from both of the boys who chose to move forward with a new conversation, allowing you to rest your head against the cold window.

You remained in this position until you were at least halfway to Kings Cross, unable to repress the nerves that tore your stomach to shreds. You were only interrupted when Draco alerted you that he had to step out of the compartment for a moment to which you responded with a nod.

Draco made his way down the train to Potter’s compartment, where he opened the door without any warning, “Potter, Weasley.”

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron asked, distaste clear on his face.

“It involves a shared interest, do you mind?” He asked, this possibly being the most civil interaction the boys had ever had.

“Is it about Y/n?” Harry asked, and Draco confirmed with a nod. “Come in.” 

Draco stepped into the compartment, closing the blinds behind him. “I don’t wish to be long, but as you know, Y/n’s parents read through all of her mail.”

“Of course we know that Malfoy,” Ron sneered. “We’re her friends by choice.”

“Let him finish Ron,” Harry muttered, and Draco gave him a slight, possibly thankful glance.

“Well my mother does not read my mail, especially if it comes from Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, or Pansy Parkinson,” Draco said, and Harry was beginning to catch on. “Now since I would not like for Y/n not to be miserable for two weeks, and she’s already bound to be if you address letters to me from one of those three people I will pass them along. Just put your names inside the envelope, and I promise not to read them.”

“How can we trust you won’t?” Ron asked.

“Even if you can’t, isn’t it better I read them than her parents?” Draco asked. “And as I said earlier Weasley, this is a shared interest.”

“He’s right, plus he’s offering so you know it’s coming from, well, a decent place,” Harry said slowly, after last night still unable to trust Malfoy.

“I know I don’t deserve her,” Draco said, almost inaudibly. “But there’s no changing our situation and I would do anything for her.”

“We’ll hold you to that Malfoy,” Harry threatened.

“I am aware, Potter,” Malfoy said, and with that, he left the compartment to return to you. He found you in the same spot with your head up against the window but you had changed into a black dress and expensive witches robes, clearly something your mother had picked out. The outfit looked wrong on you, and for once, he could see exactly how you did not fit into the world you had been born into.

-

Part 5 - The Emerald Manor

@whatawildone @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker @pillowjj @pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz​ @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @oi-itsemily @lukehemmingslut831 @peachybeannn @lovebynorth @bubblesam06 @voidnarnia @bethii1

Rowling, J. K. and Mary, GrandPré, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. New York, NY: Arthur A. Levine Books, an imprint of Scholastic Inc, 2005.xn

[toriwakes]

Liquid Luck [Harry Potter x Reader]

summary: harry doesn’t need luck to win you over

content warnings: curses barley

a/n: hello! wrote this out of bordeom tbh...hope u like!! as always let me know if you have any requests!

working with harry in potions never seemed important until sixth year. since everyone worked in pairs and you two have been working together since second year, he let you in on the little secrets his textbook held. you crushed the ingredients instead of cutting, despite hermione’s scolding and were one step closer to finishing the assignment. “look at malfoy.” he whispered. you looked at harry first, confused- then to malfoy and you realized why. his nose was scrunched up i’m frustration, cutting the material. you chuckled with harry but stopped when the blonde’s head shot up to glare at you. he opened his mouth to spit a cruel remark but slug horn was already approaching your table. “let’s have a look shall we?” you and harry shared a look of triumph.

“as i promised, a bottle of felix felicis-“ he placed the bottle in harry’s hand, but harry passed it to you. “to the best performers in class. you are dismissed!” he cheered. you and harry left class feeling rather cocky. “i know you two cheated.” you and harry turned around. of course there was malfoy, hair messy like hermione’s. “we didn’t.” you said, crossing your arms. “you expect me to buy that?” now blaise and goyle joined him. “you don’t need to believe us. it’s okay that you’re jealous that we did better than you.” harry quipped, nudging you as if to say ‘let’s go’. you gave the boys a taunting smile and followed harry.

hermione was fixing her hair in the common room when you two got back. “what room you so long?” ron asked. “malfoy giving us a hard time. says we cheated, but hermione knows that’s not true. right?” everyone’s head turned to hermione, who was already reading up on what she could’ve done wrong. “i suppose not. you were reading right from your book.” she admitted. harry held out a hand, gesturing to hermione. “see? got it fair and square.” you chimed, showing the bottle. “you should put that somewhere safe.” hermione commented. “will do. go on then.” you shooed harry off. when he was out of ear shot, everyone turned to you. “what are you gonna use it for?” ginny inquired. “are you gonna use it to find the right time to ask harry out?” you threw a pillow at ron. “no! we should use it for something important, not something as silly as that.”

but harry was already up in his room, fiddling with the bottle between his fingers. contemplating. should he use it to get a moment with you? he’s had a thing for you since third year and he was bound to burst eventually, why not have luck on his side when he does? unsure, he called for ron. everyone’s eyes went wide; surely he hadn’t heard your conversation? “you tell us everything, understand?”ron rushed up, noting ginny’s command. “yeah?” he said as normally as he could. “come here and shut the door.” harry said nervously. ron, just as nervous as he, took a seat on his bed. “i’m just gonna say it straight up, i have a crush on (y/n). now that that’s out of the way-“ but ron didn’t let him finish. “you have a crush on (y/n)?!” harry covered his best friends big mouth. “yes now hush! look, i was wondering if i should use the potion when i...you know, shoot my shot.” ron thought about it. would he really need it, now knowing that you both liked each other? of course he wanted his best friend to be happy, but a selfish part of ron wanted in on some of the fun. so, he came up with a plan. “no. no, don’t do that. we have a match against slyhterin soon, don’t we?” harry sighed. “yeah. you’re saying we use it for that?” harry wouldn’t lie to himself; he liked the idea of using it to ask you out more than a game of quidditch. “pretty much. and don’t worry about it, i’ve got your girl problem all under control.”

hearing the news made your heart stop. “ronald i am not in the mood to be lied to. are you positive?” you asked again. ron threw his arms to his sides. “yes!! now can i please get ready for my game?” he pleaded. you glared at him. “fine.”

there was tension at breakfast. “good morning everyone.” luna’s dream-like voice appeared. “you look dreadful ron,” she turned to harry. “is that why you put something in his cup?” everyone’s head snapped to harry. “don’t drink it!” hermione advised, but ron was already halfway done with his cup. “you could get in trouble for that.” “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” harry responded. the two boys got up and left, smiles on their faces. half of you was angry that harry used the potion without you. surely he left some for you. “i cant believe them.” hermione shook her head as she continued to eat. “you’ve been dealing with them for six years. you didn’t see this coming?” she laughed, but stopped when she looked at their plates. “they barley even ate anything!”

they showed up and played hard, although it wasn’t needed. ron did amazing and harry caught the snitch like he always did. “you reckon the potion is still in effect?” harry whispered as they changed in the locker rooms. “dunno. why?” harry brushed down his sweater and took in a deep breath. “time to shoot my shot.”

harry found you at the common room party. “hi.” you turned around, your eyes meeting his green ones. “oh, hi! great job today.” you gave hun a friendly pat on the shoulder. “thanks, erm- can i talk to you outside?” your breath hitched. “sure.” you set down your punch and followed him out of the portrait hole, failing to gain the attention of your friends. the moonlight shined into the corridor, lighting up your best friends face. “so..” you started. “(y/n), i need to tell you something.” with a racing heart beat, you half smiled. “yeah?” harry was just was nervous as you, he couldn’t trust that the potion was still working and the back of his head was protesting anyway, telling him he shouldn’t do this. but his heart was louder. “i really like you, (y/n). a lot.” you heart was jumping off the walls- springing side to side and doing a twirl. “harry..” shit. was the potion really gone? “harry i like you too.” guess not.

when you two walked back into the room, ron and lavender were on top of the table, kissing. you two both clapped and harry dragged your hand. “do you-“ “yup.” you cut him off. stepping up as well you cupped harry’s face you crushed your lips together. you felt him smile into the kiss, taking your waist and dipping you and even louder the common room roared. as you stepped down, harry leveled his mouth to your ear. “i guess luck was on my side.” you gasped playfully. “you didn’t need luck, pin head. i’ve fancied you for years.” harry’s eyes bulged out of his head- he wasn’t expecting to hear that. “and you better have saved me some of that potion.”

[bludhavents]

hiii ☺️ whenever you want/can, could you do random/fluff prompt 11 with Cedric?

11. “just trust me on this one” reader x cedric.

omg i loved writing this i’m sorry it took an extra day for me to post, i wanted to make sure i was really proud of it before i sent it out. thank you so much for the request i hope you enjoy reading🤎

Felix Fly-icis: Cedric Diggory x reader

“Bloody hell, y/n i’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you heard Ron yell through the hallway. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face; Don’t be mistaken, Ron was a sweet boy who you’d talked to on occasion, but by no means were the two of you friends. You had no idea why he’d be looking for you, nevermind what could be so important he felt the need to shout it out in the hallway.

“Oh, uh. Sorry, Ron, I didn’t know you were looking for me, what’s going on?” You spoke once he was caught up to you. His eyes opened wide and he took a deep breath and began speaking.

“Well Cedric told Cho who told Luna who told Neville who told Dean who told Harry who told me to tell you,” Ron gasped for air before continuing, “Cedric wants you to meet him at the Quidditch field for lunch. Something about Liquid Luck. Or maybe it was Felix Felicis, I don’t remember,” his eyebrows drew together as he tried to think back to what Harry told him. “Either way, I’m almost positive he said the Quidditch field. Almost. You won’t be mad if I’m wrong, will you?” The expression on his face was nothing short of terror.

You let out a small laugh, “Ron, it’s okay. Liquid Luck and Felix Felicis are the same thing, genius. And I promise I won’t be mad. Thank you for passing the message on, see you later.”

With that, Ron turned around and made his way down the opposite side of the hallway, leaving you to ponder why in Merlin’s name Cedric would choose to meet at the Quidditch field. He knew how you felt about the sport.

Quidditch certainly was not for everyone. Neither was flying in general, for that matter. Despite the countless times Professor Sprout had tried her best to convince you that flying on a broomstick isn’t as terrifying as it seems, you refused to try and had no intention of ever doing so.

Poor Professor Sprout had truly done everything she could think of to help you overcome your fear of heights, but it was no use. The thought of not being able to put your feet on the ground, the possibility of falling, and the rare—but possible owl collisions always instilled the idea that flying was dangerous and had every right to be feared. Quite honestly you were surprised to be the only one in your class who was afraid of heights, in the Muggle world it’s a very common fear, almost every Muggle was some degree of acrophobic, but it’s no surprise that the Wizards werent afraid to defy the laws of nature.

You often didn’t even attend Quidditch matches even though you’d be tucked away safe in the bleachers; Seeing your housemates gliding through the air and trying to knock the opponent off their respective broom made you queasy. You thought Quidditch was a fine sport, in fact you always wished you could overcome your fear and learn to play, but the idea itself was laughable. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that you were afraid of flying.

So to say Cedric’s invitation to meet at the Quidditch field was strange would be the understatement of the century. Not to mention the Liquid Luck, it took six months to brew for goodness sake. Despite his own self-doubt, you were sure Ron got the right potion name. If he could remember the long list of people the message had gone through before it reached you, you were sure he could remember the message itself.

After you pushed your curiosity aside, you were excited to spend time with Cedric. You made your way through the corridor and sat in the back of the DADA classroom replaying the day you became friends with Ced.

You’d properly met him at the beginning of the semester after someone told him about your acrophobia. With this new information, Cedric had taken it upon himself to ask if you wanted him to teach you. He was very kind about it all, and you could tell he genuinely wanted to help you; There was no judgement or teasing in his tone. He was always a very admirable person in your eyes, and was without a doubt the most hufflepuffely Hufflepuff you’d ever met. Being a Hufflepuff yourself, you knew what true loyalty and compassion looked like, and Cedric was a shining example.

Your hesitation was seemingly very clear to Cedric after he proposed the idea of lessons. He spent almost an hour in the Common Room assuring you that he didn’t mind going as slow as you needed to, telling you that he wouldn’t pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do, and saying that you could quit whenever you pleased. He just wanted to help you and get to know you.

The first lesson was absolutely dreadful. The typical anxiety you felt about flying was now paired with the nervousness that comes with being alone with a very handsome boy. Despite him being as empathetic and careful as possible, Cedric couldn’t get you to even watch him fly for more than sixty seconds at a time. Needless to say the first lesson was also your last. Cedric didn’t want you to quit, but he understood where you were coming from. The two of you got along really well, though, and he was the first person who made you laugh through your anxiety. After the two of you hit it off so well that day, Cedric proposed a lunch at the Black Lake.

So for the past six months you and Cedric spent four days a week eating, laughing, and sometimes even swimming at the Black Lake during lunch hour. It was easy with him. He made you feel comfortable, understood, and carefree, and you did the same for him. The two of you enjoyed each other’s company more than anything else; It was almost addictive. A lot of the moments shared between the two of you could’ve easily been considered romantic, and although neither of you had ever had a conversation about wanting to date, there was a sort of unspoken agreement that you each had feelings for the other. It wasn’t hard to miss, either. Cedric and you had such an intense chemistry that one would have to be a fool to not recognize it as love.

Professor Lupin pulled you out of your thoughts as he dismissed the class and sent you on your way to lunch. You were careful to blend in with the hallway traffic flow, so you headed towards the Dining Hall with the rest of the students before you broke away from the crowd and hurried off into the girl’s quidditch locker room. You knew all of the players would be off to lunch already, but that didn’t stop you from rushing across the room and leaving through the back exit that led straight to the field. When you stepped into the bright sunlight you didn’t see Cedric anywhere, and a quick moment of panic struck you at the thought that maybe Ron had relayed the message wrong and Cedric was waiting for you somewhere else. Your worries quickly dissipated when Cedric seemingly appeared out of thin air. He was barely hovering on his brand new nimbus 2000 over the grass in the middle of the field. His smile was as charming as ever and in his hands he held his old broom and a tiny potion bottle.

“Y/n!” He quickly flew to your side and landed on one knee next to you. Cedric held the potion bottle in his hand like a wedding ring, “Hi.”

You laughed, he surely could be extra cute when he tried, “Hi, Cedric.” You gave him a gentle pat on the top of the head.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Oh Y/n dearest, I come today to present you with one bottle of liquid luck,” he was talking like Dumbledore, and his dorky grin grew bigger as he kept going. “The day we met you wouldn’t even touch a broom, and I made it my personal duty to have you try. So today, as I present you with the magic potion, you will fly.” By the end of his speech you were so lost in his sparkling eyes it took you a minute to process his words.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah! Come on, it’ll be okay,” He reached for your hand and you helped him back to his feet.

“I don’t really understand what you mean,” you let out a nervous laugh as he handed you his old broomstick.

“I was thinking, you just have to take some liquid luck and you’ll have no chance of falling!” The excitement was evident across his features.

“Oh, uh-,” you stammered. “I don’t know how i feel about this.” His plan was good, but there was no way you were going to be able to talk yourself up onto the broom. You felt bad, he’d probably been brewing this since the week you met and you didn’t want to let him down.

“I promise I’ll be right there with you. Please, just trust me on this one,” you searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, and before you could think about it you grabbed the bottle out of his hand and drank the liquid luck.

“Yes!” Cedric threw his arms in the air and hopped back on his broom, flying straight up and doing a backflip in celebration of your sudden boost in confidence.

The potion tasted terrible, but you didn’t have much time to think of your regrets before it took affect. Your whole body felt lighter and you became giddy with excitement before tightening your grip on his old broom. Cedric came back down to the ground and shook your shoulders, you thought he might’ve been more excited than you were.

“Okay, are you ready to try this?” He calmed down a tad and made direct eye contact. You responded without a moment’s hesitation.

“So ready.”

He cheered in excitement before taking both of the brooms and setting them on the ground, just a little bit apart from eachother. He moved to stand over his broom and you did the same to yours. The two of you simultaneously lifted your brooms into the air and shared a look of pure joy.

“On the count of three, okay?” Cedric reached out to hold your hand. “One. Two. Three!”

You let go of his hand as you both took off into the air, laughter ringing in your ears as you experienced the thrill of flying for the first time ever. Luckily you’d known how to fly, so the liquid luck was only calming your nerves, the rest was your talent.

“Cedric I’m doing it!” You looked beside you and saw how much fun he was having, the proudness overcoming his features as you conquered your biggest fear.

“You’re really doing it, you’re flying, y/n!” He shouted back.

The two of you were in the air for hours, forgetting about the rest of your classes and messing with eachother above the quidditch field. When the sun started to set, the two of you headed back down to the field and landed.

“Thank you, Cedric. This was the best day of my life,” you breathed out, wrapping Cedric in a tight hug.

“Mine too,” he said, hugging you back and resting his chin on top of your head. “You know that I have feelings for you right?” Cedric blurted out.

“Yeah, I know,” you spoke into his chest. “I have feelings for you too, Ced.”

[lupins-sweater]

You Deserve it

(Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff Reader)

Requested by @haphazardhufflepuff

Summary: Remus wants to treat you to a nice date after a stressful week

Warnings: none! Pure fluff 🌸

“There’s no way I’m going to pass this test!” you exclaim, frustrated. You’ve been in the library reading and rewriting your notes, constantly reviewing the steps to correctly brew the Felix Felicis potion since Monday. For some reason, however, the brewed luck never turned out right. There was always some mistake you made that fudged it.

“Don’t be silly, Y/N,” Remus lightly scolded, “You’ve been working like a dog the moment you heard about the exam.”

“I know, but I always mess it up! I need a good mark on this exam if I want a B in the class.” You scooted you’re chair closer, so you could rest your head on Remus’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you and gently rubbed your arm to comfort you.

“Why don’t we go on a date this Friday to get our mind off the exam and to reward ourselves for completing such a difficult test?” Remus asked, wanting to put you in a better mood.

You nodded vigorously as the idea excited you. Spending some time with each other outside of the library was exactly what you needed.

——

After you retired to the Hufflepuff common room, Remus went to go find Lily. He knew you were close, and he trusted her to help come up with an idea for the date you would absolutely love. She was sitting on the large, red chair near the fireplace. “Hey, Lily, I need your help on something,” he said sitting on the couch.

“Remus Lupin wants my help on something?” she teased, “Does it have to do with Y/N?”

Remus nodded. “Yes. She’s really stressed about the potions exam coming up, and I wanted to taker her out on a nice date to help her relax.”

“Well. I remember her saying she would love to go out on a picnic near the tree by the lake. You know the big weeping willow.”

“That’s perfect! I could put some lights in the tree to create a romantic mood, bring some of our favorite foods, and maybe bring some gobstones to play.” Remus couldn’t wait to see your reaction when you saw the picnic.

“You and Y/N are so cute. Maybe I should tell James to take some notes from you,” Lily told him. They both laughed, thinking about all the times James thought a quidditch match was an ideal date.

“I can get the food from the kitchen and a blanket from my trunk, but where would I find the lanterns?” Remus thought aloud.

Lily hummed, tapping her cheek. “We can ask Hagrid if he has some lanterns we could borrow.”

“Lily, you’re a genius.”

“I know,” she said with a smile.

——

The day of the test Remus and Lily spent most of their free time gathering the materials for your date. Remus gave the kitchen elves a list of both of your favorite foods, and Lily got the lanterns from Hagrid. She even went out of her way to find some of your favorite flowers to make the night even more special.

You were beyond nervous when you walked into Professor Slughorn’s classroom. You looked at Remus when your name was called to make the potion, and he mouthed, “You got it! I believe in you!”

You made your way toward the bench and began adding the ingredients, remembering to increase and decrease the heat. However, the liquid in the cauldron didn’t shine and dance as it’s supposed to. You cursed in your mind as all the countless hours you spent studying were wasted. You were sure you failed.

——

It was getting dark, and you were walking with Remus in the halls. “Where are we going?” you asked, curious as to what he planned.

“You’ll see. Wait here,” he said giving you that smile when he was hiding something.

You stood there patiently and thought about how grateful you were to have such a thoughtful boyfriend. Even if he was a werewolf, you never trade him for anyone else. He returned with a wicker basket which he handed over to you. He carried a big glass bottle of lemonade.

You thought you were going to the astronomy tower, your usual spot for dates, but her led you out the doors. He walked toward the lake and past the dock. In the distance you could see lights hanging from a tree; you understood what his plans were. You stopped in your tracks as tears flooded your eyes. “Rem, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you sniffed.

Remus turned around, smiling tenderly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You’ve always been by my side, even when you found out I was a werewolf.”

He took your hand and sat down on the blanket. You were surrounded by glittering lanterns and the sweet smell of your favorite flowers. The lake was crystal clear. “I love you, Remus,” you gushed.

“I love you, too, Y/N.” He took out the glasses from the basket and poured the lemonade into them. “I’m sure you did fine on the exam, and even if you didn’t, you are still the smartest Hufflepuff in the sixth year. Possibly the whole school,” he assured you, knowing you’re still worried about your score.

You blushed furiously. “I don’t know what to say, Rem. I- you deserve the world. You’re so kind.”

For the next hour or so, you talked about what the marauders were up to, how Remus’s exam went, and your interests. You both were stuffed from all the delicious treats and were now sitting there looking at the lights.

You were thinking about the test again, for some reason you couldn’t get it off your mind. You felt guilty that Remus did all this for you, and you still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“I know you’re still upset about the test; I don’t expect you to suddenly forget about it because I took you out on a date, Y/N,” Remus told you, as if he could read your mind. He was so attentive to your emotions.

“I’m sorry. I really want to forget about it.”

Remus hummed, and his eyes went to your lips. “Well maybe this will help you,” he said with a wolfish grin. He kissed you roughly; one hand went behind your head to deepen the kiss and the other next to your thigh. You cupped his face and kissed him back.

A thick raindrop fell on your head. You flinched, pulling away from the kiss and laughed. “A raindrop fell on my head. Maybe we should get inside,” you explain.

You quickly gather the flowers and dishes and stuff them in the basket. Remus grabbed the lanterns and the flowers. It was pouring now, drenching you and Remus. You started laughing at the scene of the both of you soaking wet and running in the rain.

You knew everything was alright. :)

[merakiaes]

Liquid Luck - Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Requested: By @the--queen-of-hell​ & @ijustwant2ndwrite​

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: I went ahead and combined two requests in this one, I hope that’s okay! Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. I hope you like it, let me know what you think. 

Wordcount: 1743

Summary: Draco has been absent, distracted and agitated since you came back for your sixth year at Hogwarts, missing classes and doing bad in the subjects he’s usually on top of. You do what you do to help him, and when Professor Slughorn presents a vial of Felix Felicis during class, you immediately know what you have to do. 

You had known Draco ever since your first year at Hogwarts, both of you being sorted into Slytherin quicker than anyone had ever been sorted before; even the Weasleys, who had a spotless Gryffindor record.

Despite your sorting into the house of Salazar Slytherin, however, Draco had been warned by his parents already before going not to associate himself with you, because of the way your Death Eater parents had betrayed their lord last-minute and warned the Order of Voldemort’s plan to assassinate the Potters.

For their betrayal, they obviously weren’t so lucky as to keep their lives, and you were left in the hands and care of your grumpy Squib uncle, who had distanced himself from your parents but, to some extent, had a friendship with Dumbledore and therefore agreed to take you in.

In the eyes of the pureblooded wizarding families, you were about as filthy as the Weasleys, but you couldn’t care less.

You were a generally happy person, who preferred to turn every obstacle thrown at you in your life into something good, one way or another.

It was probably this trait of yours that opened Draco’s eyes up to you from the start. 

You were kind to him, even when he, for his first impression, chose to insult you and your family name, so in the end, he just ended up welcoming you into his little group.

You were just kids back then and unlike their parents, none of them really cared about where you were from, as long as you were a Slytherin. 

And when they got to know you, they couldn’t bring themselves to despise you even when you got older either because at that point, you were all good friends.

You had a pretty decent relationship with all of them; Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy. But most so of all with Draco.

You were the only smidge of good influence that he had left in his life and cared for him more than anyone else, which is why you were the first, and probably the only one who noticed his sudden decrease in happiness when you came back to Hogwarts for your sixth year.

It started out small, with him spacing off during the feasts; not talking to anyone, not eating, just staring into the table with a depressed look on his face and his chin leaned on his hand.

At that stage, you just waved it off as sleep deprivation, knowing that he’d struggled with sleeping for a while now.

But then he started becoming stressed and agitated during classes, seeming not to remember how to do specific potions even though you knew he was the best at potions in your year and in any other case would’ve been able to finish with a perfect result.

Another while later, he started missing meals and classes altogether, sneaking off after curfew when he thought no one was watching and acting generally suspicious and antsy, jumping back to reality every time you would touch his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up from his day-dreams.

And that’s when you knew you had to help him. 

Whatever he had going on, whatever he was struggling with, it was obviously taking so much time out of his day and so much energy out of him, that he didn’t have time to focus on himself or his academics and as his friend, you would do anything to get him back on his feet.

But you knew him like you knew the back of your own hand and knew he would never accept the help if you straight-out offered, especially not in the state he seemed to be in now.

On the contrary, he was sure to become defensive and accuse you of doubting his intelligence, and freeze you out for your remaining time at Hogwarts out of shame – and you definitely didn’t want that.

So you did what you could without giving away the fact that you were the one helping him, hurrying to pair up with him in class so that you could do all the work while he spaced out, and making two copies of notes in every class that he missed out on, sneaking them into the boys’ dorms and placing them on his bed.

The first time you did the latter, you had watched as he came out of dorms with your handwritten notes in hand, looking around the common room with a confused and tired look on his face.

But he hadn’t said anything, just turned around and headed back into the dorms and closing the door behind him.

The small acts of kindness only took him so far, however, and you were constantly looking for ways to help make him happy, if only just for an hour. 

And you finally, finally got the chance to do so during potions class with Slughorn, during which he had presented a vial of Felix Felicis and offering it as a price to the first person who successfully managed to brew The Draught of Living Death.

You had glanced over at Draco when he presented it, noticing the glint of hope in his eyes when hearing the Professor’s words, and also taking note of the way his eyes never left the bottle.

You instantly knew what you had to do, but just like everyone else, you struggled to cut the Sopophorous Bean. 

It would have been a lost cause, if you hadn’t overheard Harry Potter saying that it worked better if you crushed it with the flat side of the dagger, and lucky for you, you were a lot quicker than him at potions, and managed to finish just before him.

When Slughorn praised your potion, congratulated you and handed you the vial of Felix Felicis, Draco’s face fell with disappointment and before you could approach him, he had gathered all of his books and rushed out of the classroom.

After that, you had been trying to find him the entire day, but just like always, he was gone, missing out on the remaining two classes of the day.

You kept doing what you always did and took double notes, leaving them on his bed when the common room was empty, and went about your afternoon with the vial never leaving your pocket, just in case you’d run into him.

And you finally did just as you were about to head back to the common room for curfew, catching a glimpse of platinum blonde hair just as he rounded a corner, and you knew in an instant where he was headed.

You kept your distance as you followed him up into the Astronomy Tower, your fist clenched around the vial of liquid luck where it was still waiting in your pocket.

When you reached the top, Draco was leaning his forearms onto the railing and looking out into the night, and he only noticed you when the floorboards creaked under your feet, his head turning just slightly to the side.  

He knew it was you without even looking at you, recognizing the familiar warm, positive energy you seemed to take with you and fill the room with wherever you went.

Knowing that he had noticed you, you wasted no time, slowly walking up to join his side and watching the profile of his face as he turned his head back forward.

“What are you doing here?” He asked without missing a beat once you were standing by his side, and you chuckled.

“You don’t own the Astronomy Tower, you know.” You attempted to joke, but when he didn’t even crack a smile, or look at you at all, you turned serious again, clearing your throat and reaching into your pocket.

“I just wanted to give you this.” You continued in a lower voice, and this time, his head turned around, his eyes moving down to the vial in your hand.

A flicker of emotion immediately flickered through his eyes, the shocked greys then moving up to meet yours. When he did so, the shock quickly changed into suspicion, eyes narrowing and lips pulling down in a mild scowl.

“Why?” He asked, and you only shrugged, looking down at the vial with a frown etched across your face.

“I figured you could use it more than me so I… won it for you.” You told him, looking up at him to see that the scowl was slowly dispersing.

“You… won it for me?” He asked, still sounding distrusting.

You nodded your head as a silent reply. 

He was quiet for a moment, but then you watched as his face suddenly fell in realization. “It was you, wasn’t it?” He asked. “The notes.”

A small, careful smile stretched over your lips but you didn’t get the time to answer, as that smile was all the answer he needed.

“Why?” He asked again, and you didn’t miss a beat.

“Everyone needs a bit of help sometimes, there’s no shame in that.” You told him gently, shrugging your shoulders with a small smile.

He watched you, analyzing your face for a moment. And then he looked down at your still outstretched hand, where the vial of liquid gold was still resting in your palm.

With slow, hesitant movements, he reached out and took the bottle, raising it up in front of his face and inspecting the gold swirl and glitter under the light of the moon.

He stayed like that for a minute, the two of you standing in complete silence, and then, when he was done inspecting the potion, he lowered it back down and let his eyes meet yours again, to which you wasted no time in smiling.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’.” You told him in a teasing manner, but instead, he just reached his hand up to your cheek and pulled your face to his, connecting your lips to his before you even got the time to process what was happening.

Your eyes widened at the sudden turn of events, shock filling your body and causing you to completely freeze.

He pulled away from you again before you had even gotten the time to progress everything and when he did so, his face was mildly regretful, his eyes avoiding yours in shame.

But as he moved to turn his face away from you, you brought your hands up to his head and turned it back, doing him like he had done you and not giving him a chance to process or protest before pressing your lips to his, this time coming apart without regret.

Tagged: @writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure​ @peakyhermione​ @fanficflaneuse​ @lucillethings​ @okaydraco​ @biinspiration​​

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood 22 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

A/N: DRAMA!

Warnigns:  Use of dangerous substances... i mean Use of dangerous potions

Words: 3,337

Masterlist:

Chapter 21: / Chapter 23

Two weeks later.

"I have to talk to him.”

"I don't think he wants that, Persephone."

"But what can I do? How long do I have to wait before I can talk to him? I want to apologize, I want to tell him that it was not my intention to hurt him…”

Regulus puts his arm around my shoulders and draws me to him.

"I don't like to see you like this, but you can't do it, at least not for now," He says. Reg is avoiding my eyes, he tries to look away constantly. moment.

"What's going on?"

“Nothing."

"You better tell me the truth before I hit you."

“Trixie-and-Remus-are-dating,” He blurts out.

"What?"

"Remus... and Trixie are a couple... officially."

I grit my teeth, grab a cushion from the couch, and put it to my face to stifle a desperate scream. I feel Regulus's hand pat my back.

"It's not fair," I say, moving away from the cushion. "I'm sure Trixie is–“

"Oh come on, Persephone. After all that's happening, do you really still think that about her? ”

“Yes."

"If you manage to fix things with Lupin, the first thing he’ll ask you will be to be friends with her or at least you have to endure them together–”

I growl at the thought. "It's just that... I don't know how to explain it, I have a feeling, something in her doesn't let me believe her.”

"Well, you must do it, otherwise, you will lose Lupin.”

“At the moment I don't like you. Tell me something else. How is your relationship with the girl you met?”

Now he grimaces.

“It's good, but, I think we can only be friends, it's great, but none of it felt special."

I rest my head on his shoulder.

"Are you sure she didn't feel anything either?"

"Yes, I wanted to tell her how I felt, but she came forward," He laughs lightly. "Everything was fine.”

"I'm glad.”

At that, we both heard a meow. An orange cat comes up to us, jumps into my lap and purrs.

“I've never seen it around here…” I say, stroking the cat.

“Dunno, surely someone’s looking for it. Actually, I have seen it,” He replies with a frown. “Sometimes, with my brother and his friends, maybe it’s from someone from Gryffindor?”

For a moment, the cat stiffens, but with my petting, it returns to normal. Then it watches us and walks away to then leave the common room.

"How weird.”

"Yes," He replies, and then slowly gets up. "Come on, I'm hungry.”

I complain, but I still follow him.

We both enter the large dining room, walk to the Slytherin table and grab the food they offer us.

"Black, we need to talk," Rosier interrupts along with two other students. All three had serious faces as if they were trying to intimidate.

“It’s rude to interrupt when someone’s eating, Rosier. Better go play with your little friends somewhere else.”

"If only someone listened to you, Singh. Oh, but I remembered, you don't have someone to do it, after all, you just push away anyone who has an interest.”

I open my mouth to reply to her stupid comment, but Regulus cuts me off.

"It will only be a moment," he says getting up.

"I don't think so," replies Rosier, and the two share a look and Reg nods, then returns to me. "See you later."

The four of them leave the large dining room, leaving me alone.

I pout and look up at the Gryffindor table. Jenna’s there along with her friends, the marauders are also nearby. Sirius seems to be upset and arguing with James. The dark-haired man turns his back on Remus and Trixie.

I feel a sharp thump in my stomach when my gaze falls on his new partner.

Remus lowers his head a little while Trixie says something in his ear, then they both laugh and Lupin quickly kisses her lips.

I see how Sirius gets up and ignores the calls of his friends, leaves the large dining room without saying anything. I turn my gaze back to the table and James talks to Remus. I wish I could hear what they say. The conversation gets out of control and now James is arguing with Remus and imitating Sirius' actions.

I have no idea what's going on. Lupin looks tired and Lily reaches his right side and they talk...

I wince and look down at my food, but it doesn't take long for me to feel someone staring at me. I look back and my eyes crash into Trixie's.

My breath is cut short when I see her smile, which is not at all kind. I know that smile... it's the same one she made when she set Sirius' house on fire and they asked us who it was, she cried with her parents, but then she looked at us and made that smile.

The girl winks at me and then turns to her boyfriend to whisper something to him, then she cups his face and kiss his lips with more intensity.

Oh, this is… enough.

This is my moment.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

A week later

“You just go out to class and then you go back to your room. Tell me what's wrong,” Jenna tells me when she intercepts me in a hallway.

"Nothing happens to me, I'm just studying, the exams are coming, my friend,” I smile and try to follow my path, but she stops me again.

"You're not even eating, it's like last year, tell me what's going on, I'm worried about you!”

This would be easier if I tell my best friend that I'm planning something big to unmask evil, but I can't do it. No one can know, I need to do it alone.

"Yes, I'm eating. Didn't you notice a different smell in the room?"

"I thought it was a new perfume…”

"No, it’s food, I get supplies at night, the kitchen elves are very kind to me.”

"No, that’s not the problem, I don’t believe that you’re studying. You don't need to study at all. Now tell me the truth.”

I whine like a little girl.

“It's nothing, really, you don't have to worry. I'm fine!”

"Wait, I know what happens to you!”

I freeze in place.

"You know?" I ask nervously.

"Yes and to be honest, I didn't think I was right…”

"What are you talking about?"

"You found out that you really like Lupin, but now he’s with Trix and that is killing you.”

I am silent for a few seconds.

“Ehh… yes, that. Yes! You saw it. I can't bear to see them... together,” I pretend to be real sad. She looks at me sympathetically and gives me a short hug. Then she just puts her hands on my shoulders.

"You know I'm always there for you, P. But you can't just lock yourself up either, let Lupin go, I'm sure you'll find someone else.”

"You are absolutely right,” I reply. "But I just need a little time, thanks for making sure everything is fine.”

“Always."

"What a great friend. Well, goodbye! ” I say quickly and run to my room. Now without further distractions.

As soon as I walk in, I know the others have other things to do, so now is the right time, I change my uniform for something more comfortable.

I make a spell to silence the room and I take out my notebook where I have written all the plans that I have made in this time. Each crossed out when I find out they won't work.

"This is useless. I can't do this alone, I don't know how I could force Trixie to confess. Also, I need someone else to listen to it, but they will just call me crazy… again.” I say out loud.

I feel totally frustrated on the floor. I do not know what to do. I almost want to cry, I can't leave things like that, I must do something.

On impulse I throw my notebook and it collides with my trunk, causing my bag, which was on top, to fall to the floor and my things come out of it.

“Great,” I huff.

I keep my books in the bag, but a clink catches my attention. I push some things aside and I can see the small drop-shaped bottle.

Felix Felicis.

Wait a minute, could it be? I take the bottle and lift it up a bit.

Maybe this will work for me to work perfectly, but I don't have a plan for it to work, I have nothing.

I put the jar down and look for my potion notes.

Liquid luck. Being lucky for a short time.

I sigh and return my gaze to the bottle, I take it delicately noting its golden color. I open it, close my eyes and drink the liquid.

Please make this work.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Omniscient narrator.

"How can you ask me something like that? Where did all those years of friendship go?”

“Calm down, Padfoot.”

"I can't do it, James," Answers the dark-haired man. Potter knows his friend is desperate at hearing him say his first name. "Remus doesn't want me to accompany him during the full moon, how do you want me to calm down?"

“He's upset, it’ll pass."

"When will that happen? It's been three weeks without talking to me, I'm sick of it!”

"Hey, it’ll only be this time, I’ll talk to him and–”

"Sure, that always works,” answers sarcastically.

"You don't have to treat me like this, I'm just trying to prevent our friendship from ending up in the trash."

Both boys realize that some students were watching the discussion. It's not a good idea to talk about this in the hallways, so they decide to walk to the common room, but another voice interrupts them.

"Sirius!" The girl yells as she comes closer. “Hi Sirius, Hello James!”

The two boys look at Persephone confused.

"Are you okay?" Black asks.

"Yes, I am perfectly fine. You are very kind to ask, Sirius,” She replies with a huge smile.

“I’m scared,” adds James.

"Have you seen Trixie? I have to see her, it’s important.”

If at the beginning of their arrival, they were confused, now both fear the girl.

"Trixie? What do you need?”

Persephone shrugs.

"I don't have a reason, I just want to see her. Wow–” She adds cupping Sirius's face and bringing him dangerously towards her. “In the evening light it seems that your eyes are a bit green, Sirius!”

The boy looks at her in surprise and can't help but blush all over. Persephone smiles again and gently lets the boy go. James can't believe what he just saw.

"Okay then, I must look for her. See you later guys!” She says as she walks away in the opposite direction.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so flushed before," says James, looking at his best friend.

"Shut up," he replies embarrassed. "What the fuck is wrong with her now?"

"If you don't know…” They remained silent for a few seconds. "It seemed that you were about to kiss her, Paddie.”

"Leave me alone, Prongs.”

Sirius gives his friend a shove that makes him laugh. Both keep going.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The light of the full moon illuminates the corridors that should be empty, but that doesn't matter to Persephone, who walks without any concern, not caring if Filch or Mrs. Norris can punish her. Somehow she knows the potion is working and every trace of anxiety escapes her body to replace it with pure confidence.

The girl keeps walking, decides (or maybe the potion) to go to the gardens and continues to the entrance of the forbidden forest.

"Someone could easily get lost," She says absentmindedly.

Before she could take another step, a sound stops her. Someone is approaching her, so she takes out her wand.

"Who's there?" She asks causing mist to come out of her lips. The night and the approach to winter cause the temperature drop.

The other person speaks, "Lumos!"

The wand lights up, Persephone is shocked to meet Trixie.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh Persephone. Good thing I find you,” The girl answers, taking the black-haired woman's hand. "I heard James and Sirius followed Remus into the Forbidden Forest. I’m worried about them, but I’m afraid to enter. Let's go, surely we will get in trouble.”

Trixie pulls Persephone and drags her away from the forest, but the black-haired woman manages to let go when they’re very close to the black lake, which is frozen.

"Wait," they both stop, “did you plan to wait there? Why did you decide when I arrived that it was a bad idea?”

"Persephone, we have no time for this, we must return!”

"But what about Remus? I thought you were worried.” Persephone can notice how Trixie tightens her body.

"Surely his friends are already with him. Wait–” Trixie pulls out her wand and raises it, iluminates Percy’s face. “What were you doing there?”

"I was looking for you.”

"How did you know it was going to be there?”

Felix knew that. She thinks.

"Because you’re the most suspicious person I know. I followed you here,” She lies.

"Oh please. Don't make me laugh,” all concern disappears from the girl "You should leave those suspicions by now, dear. Stress will cause wrinkles.”

"You cause me gray hair," for some reason, that seems very funny, so Percy laughs loudly. Trixie looks at her confused, but doesn't care.

“However, I don't understand why you keep trying so hard to contradict everything I do. I’ve changed,” She adds with a mocking smile. “I know what you think of me, honey, but admit it, no one believes you. Not even your best friend, Regulus.”

Persephone plans to answer, but realizes something. How does she know Regulus didn't believe her either? She can't remember Trixie nearby when she spoke to her friend. She thinks it’s strange, but she decides to make sure.

“I'll do my best to find out who you are, especially Remus," She says emphasizing her friend's name, causing Trixie to laugh.

"Sure, your dear friend Remus Lupin, something else you must let go of, honey.”

"Admit that you just want him to hurt me!”

"Until you admit that you’re in love with him.”

"I'm not.”

"So smart, but at the same time so stupid,” Trixie raises her wand higher and so does Persephone. Persephone turns her back on the lake. “A little bird told me that you’re not only interested in Remus, although it was obvious. Your love for Sirius is so pathetic, but I've seen it coming since I've known you. But then tell me, little Persephone, will you break the hearts of Lupin and Black?” She says mockingly.

At that time, Persephone connects all the dots: It's the same thing Jenna said when we talked in the gardens, Trixie must have been close, but how could she have known that and also what she said about Regulus? Somehow, it must have gone unnoticed. An invisibility cloak? No, no one else has one.

Wait.

A little bird?

A cat.

Oh, Merlin.

Persephone doesn't know if she's really been clever at connecting everything or it's the potion's work, but she almost squeals when everything finally makes sense.

“You're a metamorphomagus!” She exclaims.

Trixie widens her eyes and mumbles a little.

"How? I-I don't know what you're talking about. I am not–”

“A cat was with me and Regulus a week ago, when he said he didn't believe me. A small bird approached me when I spoke to Jenna and she mentioned I’d break Remus and Sirius' hearts, just what you just told me!” She says and then jumps like a little girl. “Oops! Both animals were orange!” Ends with a huge smile.

Trixie cannot believe that someone has discovered her secret, not even her friends knew it, no one suspected anything. What both girls did not notice, was the beautiful sunset that began to light up the school. The more they argued, some teachers and early risers were waking up.

Trixie tightens her entire body and returns to her defensive position.

"So is that a yes?" Persephone adds, raising an eyebrow.

"So what if I am?"

“There's nothing wrong with that, the problem is that you don’t care about the privacy of others,”

Four figures capture the attention of Persephone. In the distance, the marauders are helping Remus to reach the castle, probably the infirmary. The girl wastes no time. "Admit it, Trixie!" She yells with all her might, drawing the boys' attention.

"What's going on?" Remus asks weakly upon hearing his girlfriend's name.

The four stop walking and Peter walks to get closer to the girls, enough to notice them both threatening each other with their wands. The boy returns and informs his friends.

"What?"

Regardless of the pain or lack of energy, Remus struggles towards the girls, but only manages to get close enough to hear them. Sirius and James take it before he could do anything stupid.

"You can't do anything, Moony.”

"I have to stop them–"

"What am I supposed to admit?" They hear Trixie answer.

"Admit that you are still the same spoiled child as always, that you just want to manipulate everyone," Percy insists. "Admit that Sirius and I are right. Admit…” Her eyes find Remus', but then she turns to the girl, “Admit that you don't feel anything for Remus and that you just want to hurt him.”

Trixie laughs out loud. Sirius feels a chill at the memory of that malicious laugh.

"Just want that? You’re more stupid than I remembered,” She says approaching, causing Persephone to walk away, almost stumbling. The lake is frozen but it’s weak, she must be careful.

"It's true, you were both right from the beginning, but you should know something,” She says with mockery. "It was all... too easy, all your friends fell very quickly, it was fun, I got good friends who always support me. Of course, you already know who my favorite is. Little Remus Lupin. I must admit that, at first, I thought he was a cute boy, to be honest, I did like to see his face flushed every time I spoke to him, but, he’s not my type, I always liked the rebellious boys, does that sound familiar to you?” She laughs again. "Oh, but of course, noticing your reactions to my interaction with Remus, I couldn't miss the opportunity, honey."

All four boys couldn't believe what's going on, but some voices were already being heard and the first to notice it was James.

"Peter, take Remus to the infirmary, or we’ll soon have all of Hogwarts watching him." Little Pettigrew takes his friend by the arm, who is getting weaker.

"This is not going to end well, Prongs,” Sirius whispers to his friend.

Anger runs through Persephone's veins.

"You're a bloody bitch! How could you do something like that to him?”

"Oh, the girl has claws. Let's see them…”

Persephone’s ready to cast a spell, but Trixie is faster.

"Expelliarmus!"

Persephone's body is pushed with great force into the ice and it crashes down. The girl complains when she feels a strong pain in her back and panics at not having her wand. The youngest of the Singh sits on the ice with great difficulty meeting Trixie who is now also on the ice, but very far from her.

"Expelliarmus!" This time James yells towards Trixie. She loses the wand and spins back. Her face pales when she notices that she was not alone with Persephone. Before anyone could do anything, the crisp sound interrupts them.

Persephone looks down and watches in horror as the ice begins to break, unable to do anything about it. The ice gives way and her body plunges into the icy water.

"Persephone!" Sirius' desperate scream is the last thing she remembers before passing out.

Taglist

@treestarrrrrrrr​ @siriuslysirius1107​      @thagreenmoon​ @madmaiden2890​  @ren-ela​  @avipshamitra​   @auroraawrites​ @findzelda​  @lizlil​ @siriusmuch​   @chloe-geoghegan1​ @reverse-hxlland​​  @may-rapp​​ @the-specific-oceans​   @bloodorangemoonlight​

@littledeadgirlwalking​

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 63 - Potions and Snitches

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 1,528

Summary: Yato begins to seek answers, and the first Quidditch match of the year begins.

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

Yato opened his mind as wide as he dared before he fell asleep, and though it took what felt like hours, he was asleep within minutes.

Yato found himself in Grimmauld Place. It looked just the way he remembered when he first came to visit; threadbare carpets, dark oaken banisters, and wallpaper that was torn and rough under his fingertips.

He walked down the hallway, listening for any signs of life, but none came. The living room was deserted with a cold fireplace that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, the dining room equally as dishevelled by books and spiderwebs that heaped up over the years. It seemed like no one was home.

Yato turned into the small library at the back of the house after peering down the kitchen stairs. He scanned the shelves once again and familiar books stared back at him. Faded photographs in silver frames showed obscure faces and several ornate boxes of tarnished silver etched with a foreign language dotted between them.

His gaze lifted to the three silver goblets on the upper shelves. His hand picked them up one by one. The gold signet ring tumbled into his hand from one, and from another, he plucked out the glossy black pendant.

Yato wrapped its chain around his fingers and let it dangle, feeling a tingle of déjà vu run down his spine as he did so. A similar throbbing returned to his head as he held the ring in his closed fist, the pendant hanging from his fingers. He fumbled for the similar groove, bidding it to open this time through the building pressure in his head.

As the locket clicked open, Yato startled awake.

~

Yukine was furious.

He was the one who could brew death in a bottle. He was the one who could follow instructions to the letter. And now, Yato, of all people, was making potions like an apothecary.

Yukine felt his chest fill with frustration. His hair, normally kept neat, had plastered itself to his forehead with sweat and been pushed back a million times since the beginning of class. For whatever reason, Yato had suddenly improved his potions within the last month, and Yukine was losing his mind.

Even more so today, as Madame Kofuku had announced a light-hearted competition. The task: brew a perfect draught of living death, a notoriously difficult potion. The prize: a vial of Felix Felicis, otherwise known as liquid luck.

“What are you doing?” Yukine eyed Yato’s hands as he deftly crushed the squill bulb against his cutting board, the flat of the knife twinkling at him mockingly.

Yato shot Yukine a smirk. “Crush it instead.”

“No, you cut it,” Yukine’s words cut the air as thinly as his own plant, yet Yato grinned and swept his ingredients into his cauldron.

Hiyori, equally as annoyed but still level-headed, gently turned the page of her potions book. “Let's just try to get through this without killing him. Yato needs the practice for his N.E.W.T.s.”

Yato pouted and continued teasing Yukine, unafraid of tickling the metaphorical sleeping dragon. “You sure you don’t want that Potions for Dummies book back?”

Yukine swore under his breath and looked away. Yato took the chance to slide his own book away slightly, revealing Madame’s Kofuku’s annotated copy that had hundreds of amendments to brewing perfect potions.

The discoveries that she had made over her years in Hogwarts had helped him greatly, along with knowledge of new spells jotted in the margins that Yato had never heard of, lest seen in another book. Sectumsempra – a lacerating spell – seemed like a particularly vicious curse that they wouldn’t teach students anyway.

Hiyori smiled as Yukine threw desperate looks to see what Yato was doing, quickly trying to match his potion as Madame Kofuku called an end to the class. They stepped back as Madame Kofuku walked around the room, small tweezers and flower petals in hand, dropping them into each student’s potion and giving condolences that they hadn’t quite got it right.

Madame Kofuku reached their table and dropped a petal in each of their potions. Hiyori’s wilted slightly at the edges, confirming that her potion was not perfect. Yukine’s wilted even more but an air bubble rose and popped with a foul odour that made him cough and look utterly defeated. Yukine and Hiyori watched as the final petal fluttered into Yato’s potion – which was molten gold in colour with droplets splashing like goldfish above its surface – and shrivelled entirely like a flower in the snow.

“We have a winner!” Madame Kofuku announced, though Yato knew that she was trying to look as fair and innocently surprised by Yato’s success despite giving him the answers herself.

Yukine glared daggers at Yato as he was presented the coveted prize of liquid luck, followed by a smattering of applause from jipped sixth-year students who lost to a seventh-year who shouldn’t have been in their class.

The bell rang out right on time as Yato stared into the crystalline vial, inspecting the honey-coloured liquid and already coming up with ways to use it. The upcoming Quidditch match? He was rusty, but Hiyori would kill him for cheating. His N.E.W.T.s? That sounded like a good idea; he wanted to at least pass, and this could be the key.

Yato approached Yukine and Hiyori with a lazy smile, which wasn’t returned by Yukine as he huffed and threw his cauldron into the sink along with Hiyori’s. He glanced at his own cauldron, decided that Madame Kofuku may want to keep the extra potion, and left it on the table.

“You need to tell us how you got so good,” Yukine whined. His tie, hanging around his neck like a stripy snake, swung as he scooped up his bag.

“Like I said, the book has all the answers.” It was true, although Yato didn’t specify which book he was talking about as he dropped the vial into his robe pocket and shouldered his bag.

Yukine grumbled as he too shouldered his bag. “Hiyori, do me a favour and knock him off his broom.”

Hiyori laughed but had no doubt that he meant it. The game was on Saturday; Gryffindor vs Slytherin; she could easily hit him with the quaffle.

Hiyori flashed Yato a smile as she turned towards the door and flicked her hair in a way she’d seen Bishamon do a thousand times. “Consider it done.”

~

The first Quidditch match of the season was on a blustery November weekend, laced with the first winter snowfall that hid the lines of the Quidditch pitch.

Yato’s thoughts hummed as he pulled on his gear and grasped his broom. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, Yato thought. He followed his team onto the pitch alongside Gryffindor, spotting the back of Bishamon's and Hiyori’s head as he passed.

Yato versus Bishamon once again.

The roaring crowds that filled the stands faded to a dull thundering in Yato’s ears. The match was set, and the players flew into the air as the bludgers, quaffle, and the snitch were released into the game with a sharp pitched whistle.

Yato soared upwards and hovered above the pitch, staying out of the way. The falling snow caked his cloak and hair in fine white crystals and stung his cheeks as the breeze pushed against him. His eyes sought out the familiar twinkle of gold among silver snowflakes, though his googles fogged with the heat of his body against the cold.

Below, the players zipped through the air, scarlet and emerald robes streaming out behind them as they expertly swerved and dodged bludgers and passed the quaffle between them, only to be blocked by both Keepers when anyone tried to score. Over the roar of the crowd, Yato felt his heart thunder against his ribs at the tell-tale glint of gold against the white backdrop.

Yato broke into a hasty chase through the flurry of snow, nose-diving towards the earth in a bid to seal his team’s victory and end the onslaught Gryffindor brought with every score. A flicker of a green cloak, too high up to be anyone else, to his left alerted him that Bishamon had also spotted the snitch and was giving chase.

Rearing his broom, Yato soared upright and dug his heels into the stirrups, nosediving and twisting to every opportunity the snitch presented to no avail. It was a game of cat and mouse – one he knew he could win if he could just… get… closer.

Yato’s outstretched fingers burned with the effort, within inches of the snitches fluttering wings beating against the tips of his gloves…

A gloved fist snatched the snitch from under his nose.

Slack-jawed, Yato caught the sweet smile Bishamon flashed him as she twisted down beside him. She turned to the side and spiralled to the ground in a swirl of gold and scarlet, a victory cry rising from her chest that was immediately drowned out by the crowd.

Yato stared down at Bishamon, unable to scowl as he was too surprised to comprehend what she just did.

She had snatched victory right out of his hand.

[maraudcrsmap]

Home // Draco Malfoy

Chapter 2: Potions Class

Chapter 1

The first day of classes were always hectic, first years running around trying to find their classes or getting stuck on the stairs. Evelyn was heading towards Potions class when Professor McGonagall stopped her.

"Miss Clermont, always nice to see you."

"You too Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall smiled at her, "heading to class I hope?"

"Yes, potions." Evelyn stated.

"Ah, excellent, I know you will do well in that class. Now hurry off."

Evelyn walked down the hall till she reached the Potions class. The classroom was empty, making her think that she was in the wrong class but then she heard a voice say her name. Turning around she was met with the man introduced last night as Professor Slughorn.

"Miss Clermont I am excited to see that you are in my class. Your father was one of my top students if you can believe it.

She smiled, thinking back to her father always whipping up some kind of potion at home. "Oh yes I can believe it."

"Well I have a feeling you will be even better than him. I have heard lots about you. A shining student I have heard."

Evelyn was third in her class and one of Hogwarts top and brightest students. Everything came easy to her. Draco, although very smart himself, always thought highly of Evelyn. He knew what she was capable of and it amazed him. There wasn't a potion or spell she hadn't heard of and if she came across one she didn't know of she immediately educated herself on it. All the Professors adored her, she was a good student, always working hard and striving for perfection. A classic Slytherin if you had ever seen one. She wouldn't let anyone get in the way of what she was trying to achieve.

While she was a Slytherin that didn't mean she wasn't nice. In fact she was nice to anyone who was nice to her. People often found it weird that she is friends with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. Though she was nice to others, she kept her circle small. Evelyn was loyal to her friends and really the only friends she actually had were Draco, Pansy and Blaise. She'll never forget one day during her third year at Hogwarts she was talking to Hermione and she had told her that it was a shame that Evelyn was friends with Draco. That she was nothing like him why are you associating yourself with him. It hurt and Evelyn knew that Draco was rude to others and she had wished that he wasn't, but she knew how he was raised. From the apparent daddy issues and how he was egocentric, she is surprised he even still likes to be around her. Though he hasn't gotten rid of her yet.

"You are not wrong Professor Slughorn. She's second in our class." The voice belonged to Draco who had taken a seat at the table near the back. More people had filed in and Slughorn had gotten distracted so Evelyn made her way to Draco.

"Hey." She said, as she sat down next to him.

"Hi."

"What was up with you yesterday on the train? What were you doing?" She inquired.

Draco rolled his eyes, opening his book pretending to have not heard her.

"Draco. I know you heard me."

He huffed, "I told you I was checking something."

Just as she was about to say something about seeing Harry come in right after him, Slughorn called everyone to the front. Everyone surrounded bubbling cauldrons containing who knows what. Slughorn was in the middle of explaining something when the door opens and Harry and Ron walk in.

"Harry m'boy! I was beginning to worry! And I see we've brought someone with us." Professor Slughorn stated.

"Ron Weasley, sir. But I'm dead awful at Potions, a menace actually, so I probably should just be going."

Slughorn shakes his head, "Nonsense, we'll sort you out. Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine. Right then, books out."

Everyone's attention is back on the cauldrons in front of them and Slughorn resumes his lesson. "Now, as I was saying, I've prepared a few concoctions this morning. Any ideas what these might be? Yes, Miss..?"

Hermione lowers her hand, "Granger, sir. That one there is Veritaserum. And that would be Polyjuice Potion. And that..." She thinks for a minute before realizing what it is. "... is Amortentia! The most powerful love potion in the world. It's rumored to smell differently to each person, according to what attracts them. For example, I smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and spearmint toothpaste-" Hermione stops abruptly. Slughorn motions for Evelyn to come to the front.

"Miss Clermont what do you smell?" Slughorn questioned. She came forward taking a whiff of the potion and smiles at what she smells.

"I smell my home on Christmas Eve, fresh laundry, and sandalwood"

Evelyn knew what the sandalwood smell was. It was Draco's cologne, but there was no way she was going to say Draco's cologne and let everyone know that she liked him. Slughorn put the lid on the potion and sat it down.

"Now Amortentia doesn't create actual love, of course. That's impossible. But it does cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. For that reason, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room."

A Gryffindor by the name of Katie then spoke up. "Sir, you haven't told us what's in that one." As she pointed at a small black cauldron.

"Ah yes." Slughorn moved towards the cauldron and ladled some into a small vial. "What you see before you, ladies and gentlemen, is a curious little potion known as Felix Felicis. But it is more commonly referred to as -"

Hermione interjects, "Liquid Luck."

The whole class buzzes. Evelyn notices Draco is now suddenly paying attention.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Desperately tricky to make. Disastrous should you get it wrong. But brewed correctly, as this has been, it has remarkable powers. One sip and you will find that all your endeavors succeed... at least until the effects wear off." Slughorn states.

Evelyn notices him eyeing the vial like he was in love with it then suddenly he comes to.

"So. This is what I offer each of you today. One tiny vial of liquid luck... to the student who, in the hour that remains, manages to brew an acceptable Draught of Living Death, the recipe for which can be found on page ten of your textbook."

Everyone excitedly moves to their desks to get to work.

"You should know that in all the years of my previous tenure at Hogwarts, not once did a student brew a potion of sufficient quality to claim this prize. In any event -- good luck." Slughorn sets the vial down on his desk, Evelyn saw that it shimmered in the sunlight. One of the prettiest potions she had seen.

Draco seemed very determined to get this potion right. Evelyn had never seen him so into his work before.

Evelyn tried cutting into the bean, but it was no use. It just kept moving. Ron's flew across the room and hit Katie Bell in the head. Evelyn looked over at Draco and she could tell he was getting frustrated. Time had passed and everyone was growing more frustrated. Who knew a potion could be so complicated to make. Evelyn glances over at Harry and sees that he is having no trouble with brewing this potion. Then she hears Draco curse and her head whips back to him, he was holding his finger.

"You okay?" Evelyn questions. Draco yanks his book of the desk, reading the directions again.

"I'm fine. Just cut my finger." She didn't press on the matter anymore. He clearly wasn't in the mood to talk.

Time was up and Slughorn made his way around the classroom, seeing that he was right and that no one got the potion correct. Until he got to Harry's potion and his eyes widened.

"Merlin's Beard! But it's perfect. So perfect I daresay one sip would kill us all! Your mother was a dab hand at potions, but this. My, my, what can't you do, m'boy? Perhaps you will save us all in the end." Everyone turned to look at Harry. "Here you are then, as promised. One bottle of Felix Felicis. Use it well." Harry reached out and took the vial. "Alrighty then. That is class for today! Do not forget about your homework. Good day everyone!"

"Stupid Potter." Draco said, just loud enough for Evelyn to hear. He grabbed his books and quickly exited to classroom with Evelyn hot on his tail. He ends up going to the Slytherin common room. He knew Evelyn was behind him, but ignored her and she had had enough of him ignoring her.

"Draco Malfoy stop ignoring me. I have done nothing wrong. So tell me what is going on with you and stop being an asshole!" He turned and faced her, threw his books on the couch and pulled her into his room.

"I am not ignoring you!" He stated.

Evelyn laughed, "Yes you are and you are being super sketchy and weird. Just tell me what is going on. I'm your best friend Draco we tell each other everything. Also, I know what you did to Harry on the train. I'm not stupid and can piece two and two together Draco. So just tell me please."

Draco sighed, taking Evelyn's hands in his. "I just have a lot on my plate this year okay. I've got some things I have to get done."

"What kind of things?"

Draco dropped her hands. "Important things, but nothing for you to worry about. I'm sorry for being short with you. I've just got a lot on my mind."

Evelyn knew it was something she should worry about, she wasn't stupid, but knew right now it was for the best if she just went with what he was saying. She knew she would find out eventually. "Alright. Draco you know you can come to me right. No matter what I am always here."

He just nodded his head and Evelyn left his room. If only Draco could tell her what had really gone down this past summer and what he has to do this school year.

[lunatens]

felix felicis (ii)

word count: 2.6k

part ii/iv

genre, fluff, harry potter au

pairing: hufflepuff!felix x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: here’s pt. 2 finally!! i had a hard time feeling inspired to write for this lol, but i got some ideas and wrote a whole bunch today so here it is!!

edit from october 2020:

just a disclaimer, this part includes w**jin as a very minor character, as i wrote it in july 2019 before things happened. if this bothers you by all means dont read it, but i won’t edit him out because it is still a part of the story i wrote!

“are you sure i look okay?” you ask, turning to your small audience consisting of seungmin, woojin, and chan in the ravenclaw common room (as a ravenclaw prefect, woojin was hesitant to let your Gryffindor best friend in, but you were able to sway him with promises of helping clean the common room for a week). 

“yes, y/n, for the billionth time, you look great,” chan reassures you. 

“really, we have no reason to lie—we’re your friends, we want to help you get ready for your da—“

“it is NOT a date, seungmin,” you cut him off, holding up a finger. the three boys stare at you; seungmin raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his book, chan smirking at you, and woojin with a blank expression. “first of all, he said some of his other friends are gonna be there, not just him. and second of all, i’m just curious to see how he’s so good at literally everything and the only way to do that is to get closer to him. besides, i don’t have any hufflepuff friends, so maybe it’s time i branch out a little,” 

“is there something wrong with your current friends?” chan asks, feigning hurt and placing a hand over his heart in shock. you give him a look. 

“yes, none of them have told me my hair is a MESS,” you grumble, leaning closer to the mirror to fix it the best you can. 

“accio pin,” you hear chan mumble. suddenly he’s behind you, pressing two tiny metal hair pins into your hand. “hey, it’s really gonna be okay. you can relax and take a break for a bit; hanging out with a cute boy is not gonna kill you.”

“i don-“

“y/n, i’m your best friend,” chan says, placing his hands on your shoulders to look at you reassuringly—it’s a small gesture, but you really appreciate it. “i know what you’re thinking sometimes more than you do, you can’t hide your feelings that easily from me. believe me, there’s nothing wrong with liking felix, other than the fact that i’ll finally have something else to tease you about,” he says, almost ruffling your hair but realizing you might hex him for it. 

“i don’t like felix,” you mutter, although it’s a little less convincing this time. he rolls his eyes, and you giggle at him, feeling a little more relaxed. you pull chan in for a quick hug, mumbling a quiet thanks before pulling away to leave the common room. 

“don’t stay out too late, you know the rules!” woojin calls after you, and there’s a chorus of “be safe” and “we’ll miss you!” and “use protection!” (you hear a dull thwack followed by a groan from chan at that last one) after you as you leave, a smile on your face. 

~

“y/n!!” felix calls as you walk over to where you were meeting him, his face lighting up at your approach. you smile and give a shy wave, looking around a little. 

“where are your friends?” you ask. felix’s cheeks burn red at your question. 

“oh they uh.. they couldn’t make it. things came up, you know how it is. is..is it still okay to hang out..?” he asks, and it’s hard to stop yourself from spontaneous combustion at felix’s awkwardness. 

“no, yeah, it’s still okay,” you say with a small smile. felix lets out a sigh of relief and beams back at you. 

“okay, cool! cool. well, there’s lots to do today so let’s go,” he says, and you follow him as the two of you head off to hogsmeade. the awkwardness fades away as you get to know each other on the walk to hogsmeade—you find felix is actually really interesting and thoughtful and funny, and he has a lot of wild stories to tell you. you find yourself laughing, blushing whenever you accidentally bump into him as you walk. it’s not too long before you reach hogsmeade, surprisingly empty despite the fact that it’s a weekend.

“ooh, let’s go in here! i still owe you those chocolate frogs,” felix says, taking your hand as he pulls you into honeydukes. both of you smile at the shopowner, cheeks rosy from the cold (although you suspect the sudden contact also has something to do with it). there’s a few other customers milling about the store, but it’s fairly quiet. 

“they’re over here,” felix says as he pulls you towards a little display of the frogs. “jeongin collects the cards, so i’m here a lot to get them for him,” felix tells you as he picks up a couple of the little boxes. “how many do you want?” he asks—he’s already got about 5 in his arms, and he’s reaching for a sixth. the whole stand is starting to wobble precariously, like a giant jenga tower ready to collapse. 

“uh—“ you start to point this fact out to felix, but it’s too late; the frogs seem to fall in slow motion, little boxes scattered over the floor. 

“oh my,” felix says, burning with embarrassment. “sorry!” he calls to the shopkeeper, who’s glaring towards you two at the back of the store. felix starts placing the frogs carefully back how they were; you sigh and cast a small spell, watching the frogs fly back to their places with a small smile towards a sheepish felix. 

“thanks,” he mumbles, 7 frogs clutched in his arms. 

“i guess you aren’t always luc—“

“ooh look! someone dropped a sickle!” felix says, excitedly picking up the silver coin and holding it out to you. “what were you saying about luck?” he says cheekily. 

“it’s just a coincidence, felix, you aren’t lucky,” you grumble, remembering why felix was so annoying. he shrugs, too happy with finding money to care about your comment. 

felix pays for the frogs, apologizing again for the mess and receiving a free peppermint toad from the shopkeeper (god knows why, but it only irritates you more—although you can’t complain too much when felix slips it into your bag with all the frogs he bought you). 

you open the door and are met with a gust of cold wind, causing you to scrunch up your nose and close your eyes. felix laughs at the face you make, and you shoot him a glare (which doesn’t do much). 

“don’t laugh at me,” you whine, giggling as you shove him lightheartedly, which only makes him laugh more as you walk down the quiet streets of hogsmeade. a noise from behind you startles you both, and you turn to see what’s there only to be met with silence and an empty street, save for madame puddifoot sweeping outside the door of her tea shop (she gives the two of you a friendly wave; you wave back and keep walking). 

“felix, can we go in here?” you ask excitedly as you walk by scrivenshaft’s quill shop. you don’t give him a chance to answer before you’re already eagerly darting though the door. 

“oh, hi y/n! what a pleasure to see you,” mr. scrivenshaft welcomes you, kind eyes smiling at you from behind round glasses. 

“did you get any new arrivals??” you ask excitedly, and he chuckles softly as the two of you converse about the latest stationary products. felix looks curiously at the shelves filled with bottles of ink, feathery quills, and rolls upon rolls of parchment. as he admires the various items on the shelves, he can’t help but be amazed at listening you babble excitedly with scrivenshaft—how someone could be so fascinated with such a mundane thing, felix doesn’t know; he’s got one worn down quill and whatever spare ink he can find, usually pestering his friends for parchment; he doesn’t recall ever even glancing through the window of this shop before, let alone actually going inside. seeing the way you light up as you talk about various thicknesses of parchment makes felix want to live in here, though, finding a sudden comfort in the dusty air that smells of wood and fresh ink. 

“see you later!” you call as you guide felix out of the store, a gentle hand to his elbow. 

“what?” you question; felix is staring at you with a strange look on his face. “is my hair messed up? chan tol-“

“oh, no, your hair looks fine! it’s..really pretty actually,” felix says, snapping out of his daze and looking down at his feet shyly. 

“oh...okay,” you say, short circuiting a bit at the compliment. 

“did you find what you were looking for?” felix asks, changing the topic. 

“oh, i did! i got a couple extra quills i can lend to chan, and some new ink—this one’s got a plum tint to it, it’s going to look so nice for my notes in potions class, and then there’s the new quills he has in stock...i’ll have to save up for one, they’re a little too expensive.” felix listens in awe as he watches the way your fingers, red and numb from the cold, fumble as you open the ink to show him. you dip your pinky finger into the ink slightly to show him. 

“see?” you say as you hold it out for him to see, bubbling with puppy-like excitement. he wants nothing more than to take your hand in his or squish your rosy cheeks or tousle your hair, but he keeps these urges inside as he smiles and nods at you. 

~

you continue walking down the cobbled road, chatting and window shopping and occasionally saying hi to people you know. you catch felix’s breath hitch as you pass by the quidditch shop; felix presses his face and hands against the window, his hot breath fogging up the glass. you do the same, trying to see what he’s looking at. 

“wow, look at those gloves!” he says, tapping the glass in the direction of the gloves. your gaze slides from the broomstick display over to the wall of gloves, easily spying the ones he’s pointing at, as they seem to be the newest, most expensive pair. 

“they look...nice?” you say. your knowledge on quidditch equipment is admittedly quite limited, which shows when felix laughs at your attempt. 

“they’re the best quality out there, they’d be so nice to have…”

“do you wanna go in and try them on?”

“what? oh no, no; my hand me down pair will work just fine, i’ve gotten used to the hole in the thumb,” he says dejectedly, and when you glance at the price you realize why felix is so hesitant. 

“it’s okay, you’re already a great quidditch player anyways,” you say, trying to comfort him as you tug on his sleeve to lead him away from the window. 

“come on, let’s go for some hot butterbeer—i could really use some in this weather,” you suggest, and felix gives one last longing look over his shoulder before following you to the three broomsticks. 

~

butterbeer in your bellies and full of giddy happiness, you and felix begin the trek back to the castle. the sun is starting to set now, and it’s getting even cooler outside. your breath leaves your mouth in puffs of billowing frost as you and felix quickly walk along the path. 

“youngjae’s gonna be so mad if he catches me out late again,” felix says, and you’re laughing with the exhilaration of possibly breaking the rules. 

“again?? wow felix, what a rebel,”

“well, he’s only caught me once...have you ever been out past curfew?”

“no, because i’m a good student and i don’t want to deal with woojin’s endless teasing and scolding.”

“we’d better hurry then,” felix says, looping his arm through yours and speeding up. you’re walking along the edge of the forest when you hear a rustle in the bushes, followed by hushed whispers. 

“homenum revelio!” you shout in surprise, pointing your wand towards the bushes (you don’t even realize you’re clutching onto felix’s arm, your heart racing from fear and his from your touch). 

“...jisung? changbin?” you question, lowering your wand. 

“hyunjin, minho, what are you guys doing?” felix asks. the four boys come clambering out of the bushes. 

“oh, you know, we’re just hanging out! having a good time!” jisung explains. he grins over-enthusiastically at you, supported by nodding from the rest of the boys. 

“hanging out..in the bushes..”

“ah yes, well you see-“ 

“chan asked us to spy on you,” changbin cuts in, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from jisung. 

“i see,” you say cooly, making a note to yell at chan later. 

“what about you two? i thought you were busy,” felix asks, turning to hyunjin and minho. 

“uh, we were busy…. and then we saw these two sneaking after you two and decided to join them,” hyunjin explains. 

“what kind of friends are you??” felix says with a sigh. “well, me and my new best friend y/n have to get back to the castle, so we’ll see you later,” he says, although he still doesn’t sound too upset. you and felix turn and begin walking again, wordlessly as you try to comprehend what just happened. 

“i can’t believe they were spying on us!” you eventually blurt out. “chan’s just nosy,” you say with an annoyed huff. 

“i know, i can’t believe my own friends lied to me! i know there was no way they were too busy studying, they never study! i don’t know why they’d cancel on me just to come spy on us anyways though..” felix says with a tone of confusion. “we had fun anyways though, right? well i mean, i had fun at least, it’s okay if you didn’t though,”

“felix, today was the most fun i’ve had in ages. i guess you were right; there’s more to life than studying and schoolwork,” you say with a shy smile. “don’t let that get to your head,” you warn. felix laughs, and the sound makes you forget about how cold the air is for a moment. 

“you know, you’re not so bad after all, lix...maybe..we could be friends? wouldn’t that throw everyone for a loop,” you comment. you look over to see felix beaming widely at you. 

“yeah, i’d like that. you’re really cool, you know. maybe i can show you some more fun things other than books sometime--today was nothing,” felix responds, and you nod enthusiastically. 

“i’d like that!”

“cool!! great! we should go watch the gryffindor vs. ravenclaw game coming up, i can actually explain things to you and you can watch instead of having to take notes for once?”

“...okay, fine. i’ll give quidditch a try. only if you cheer for ravenclaw though,” you tease. 

“anything for you,” he says, and your heart melts. “goodnight, y/n, see ya!” he calls as you part ways to your respective dorms. you sneak into the ravenclaw tower, grimacing when you see woojin sitting on the couch, arms crossed beside seungmin (who hasn’t seemed to move since you left). 

“you’re late.”

“i’m sorry woojin!! it’s just-“

“i’ll allow it this one time,” he says with a sigh. he can’t hide the smirk on his face from seeing how excited and happy you are, knowing all too well the reason behind your joy, and he’s not about to ruin your night by getting you in trouble. 

“thanks woojin, goodnight!” you say, racing up to your dorm and flopping onto your bed. your mind is buzzing, replaying moments from the day, unable to get felix’s laugh and smile out of your head, and you think maybe being friends with felix isn’t such a terrible idea after all.

[click here for part iii!]

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @aubsenroute, @somebodyswatson

Chapter Twenty-Three Horcruxes

Harry climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower with less buoyancy in his step. He could feel Felix wearing off with each passing minute, and recalled Slughorn’s warning that Felix Felicis could lead to recklessness and overconfidence if taken in excess. He certainly saw the appeal, at least, of feeling like you were capable of anything all the time. He briefly wondered if he could use these last few precious minutes of it to discover what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement.

But when he woke the Portrait of the Fat Lady and gave her the password, it seemed his luck had all dried up.

“The password changed at midnight,” she said, “so you’ll just have to sleep in the corridor, won’t you?”

Harry ran his hand through his hair, wishing he could have at least half of Felix’s luck for himself. “You’re joking! Why did it have to change at midnight?”

“That’s the way it is,” she said. “If you’re angry, go and take it up with the headmaster. He’s the one who tightened security.”

“Fantastic. Really brilliant. Yeah, I would go and take it up with Dumbledore if he was here, because he’s the one who wanted me to —”

“He is here,” a voice behind Harry interrupted.

Harry turned, startled to see Nearly Headless Nick gliding up the corridor.

“Professor Dumbledore returned to the school an hour ago,” Nick said. “I had it from the Bloody Baron, who saw him arrive. He appeared — according to the Baron — to be frustrated, and a little tired, of course.”

Perhaps his luck had not run out just yet. “Where is he?”

“Oh, groaning and clanking up on the Astronomy Tower. It’s a favourite pastime of his —”

“Not the Bloody Baron! Dumbledore!”

“Oh, in his office. I believe, from what the Baron said, that he had business to attend to before turning in.”

“Yeah, he has,” Harry said, and bolted down the corridor, weariness forgotten.

As soon as he reached the gargoyle guard to the stairs, he said, “Toffee éclairs,” and hurried up the spiral staircase. He knocked heavily on the thick door that led into Dumbledore’s office.

“Enter,” Dumbledore said.

Harry could hear the exhaustion in Dumbledore’s voice, but he recalled how Cedric had berated him for waiting even a day to tell him what he’d learned of Hepizbah Smith, the locket, and Voldemort’s unsuccessful job interview. He did not think that Dumbledore would like him to wait before sharing this memory, too. He also had a feeling that he’d have to scribble the memory’s contents out in a letter to Cedric before he finally went to sleep.

Harry pushed the door open and saw Dumbledore standing behind his desk. The desk was littered in maps, notes, and old photographs, and Fawkes perched on the back of Dumbledore’s chair, as if he, too, were trying to make sense of Dumbledore’s research. Harry was surprised that Dumbledore did not sweep it all away as he walked in. He was also surprised by just how exhausted Dumbledore looked. It was not just the weary expression that Harry had grown used to seeing on all members of the Order; there was something worn and frail about Dumbledore. But the exhaustion was brief, replaced quickly by surprise and worry.

“Harry,” he said, “goodness gracious, to what do I owe this very late pleasure?”

Harry pulled the small bottle from his pocket and held it up. The thick, silver liquid caught the light of the nearly full moon that poured in through the open window and bounced it around the room in fractured moonbeams that mirrored the stars in the night sky.

“I’ve got it, sir,” Harry said. “I’ve got the memory from Slughorn.”

Dumbledore smiled. It was not the serene smile that Harry was used to seeing on his Professor, nor the sad smile that he had caught on occasion. There was pure thrill in this smile, the sort of smile James had when Harry made an impressive catch of the Snitch.

“Harry, this is spectacular! Well done indeed! I knew you could do it.”

Dumbledore took the bottle from Harry and pulled the Pensieve from its cabinet.

“Sir — when I got the memory from Slughorn, he was… well, he wasn’t in his usual frame of mind.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “I should hope you did not Confound him, Harry, and tamper with the memory —”

“No, not at all, or rather, not exactly. He was drunk.”

“I am sure Horace is quite used to that.” Dumbledore chuckled. “And it should not taint the knowledge within, but we shall know in a moment.”

Harry stepped towards the Pensieve, anxiety and guilt not quite mollified. “I just meant, sir — is that alright? He won’t even remember that I asked him for it.”

Dumbledore hesitated, hands on either side of the Pensieve, and examined Harry with his piercing gaze that always seemed to see much more than one would expect. “You are not worried about the memory, but about whether what you did was right?”

“My dad and I talked about love potions, and how they take away your ability to think for yourself, and that’s terrible, isn’t it? It’s what happened to Ron — and didn’t I just do the same thing to Slughorn?”

It seemed to Harry that Dumbledore was so eager to see the contents of Slughorn’s memory that this delay was unexpected and not especially welcome. Harry swallowed down his guilt.

“Sorry, sir, I —”

“Do not apologise for wishing to do the right thing,” Dumbledore said. “You are very much like your father in that. He has always been one to agonise over the right thing to do. Your mother, however, has not found it so troubling. Do you know why that is?”

“Er — not exactly, but I think you’re about to tell me.”

Dumbledore’s expression softened into a smile. “Because Lily always put those who were in trouble first, no matter what else. She would lie to protect a friend. She would defend someone who had been unkind to her if they were hurt. She has always challenged those who did not use their power to help the powerless. Do you understand?”

“You’re saying what I did was alright, even if it was wrong, because it will help defeat Voldemort?”

“In short, yes. But I’m afraid, Harry, that we do not have time for you to ruminate on this philosophy just now. If this memory reveals what I believe it will, we may yet have a longer night ahead of us.”

“Right.”

Harry placed his hands on the basin of the Pensieve and followed Dumbledore into the memory.

They returned to Slughorn’s old office, which Harry had seen when Dumbledore had shown him the tainted memory. Harry could already see the difference in clarity within this memory. The colours were brighter, and the decor on the walls was in sharp relief, not fuzzy and faded as it had been before. That memory had looked as if it had been through several aggressive washings; this one was fresh. If Harry had been worried about wine staining the memory, his worry would have been assuaged immediately.

Slughorn was younger, as he had been in the memory before. The grey, wispy hair that Harry was used to was instead thick and blonde, and his mustache was shiny and auburn in the firelight. He settled back into his plush chair and propped his feet on the footstool. In one hand he held a wine glass, in the other a box of crystalized pineapple.

The Tom Riddle that Harry remembered from the diary sat on a chair at Slughorn’s right hand. He was not the disfigured and terrifying man that would interview for a position as a professor at Hogwarts in just over ten years’ time. He was young, attractive even, with thick, smooth hair and a firm jawline. On his finger was Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, reminding Harry that by the time this memory took place, Riddle had already killed his father.

This time, Harry also knew that Tom Riddle had already created at least one of his Horcruxes.

“Sir,” Tom Riddle asked, “is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?”

Slughorn shook his head, but he was smiling as he picked out another piece of candied pineapple. “Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn’t tell you.” He winked, though, which seemed to be all the answer Riddle needed. “I must say, I’d like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are.”

Riddle’s lips curved into a smile, and the others in the circle laughed. A few of them looked at Riddle with a surprising amount of adoration. Riddle had worked hard to win them all, and even this conversation was part of keeping them under his power.

“What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn’t,” Slughorn continued, “and your careful flattery of the people who matter — thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you’re quite right, it is my favourite — I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple. I have excellent contacts at the Ministry.”

The group laughed again. Riddle waited for the laughter to fall away before speaking again. It was clear to Harry that he enjoyed the attention from Slughorn and the other students, however Harry recalled what Dumbledore had said about Riddle never truly having friends. These were not people Riddle trusted; these were people Riddle used.

“I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir,” Riddle said. “I don’t have the right kind of background, for one thing.” But he ran his finger over the heavy black stone of his grandfather’s ring as he said it.

“Nonsense,” Slughorn said, “couldn’t be plainer that you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you’ll go far, Tom, I’ve never been wrong about a student yet.”

A gentle chime marked the hour as eleven, not quite as late as Harry had stayed with Professor Slughorn in the present, but there was far less wine at this gathering than at the wake Harry had just attended. Slughorn stood to dismiss his company.

“Good gracious, is it that time already? You’d better get going, boys, or we’ll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow, or it’s detention. Same goes for you, Avery.”

Each student left — except for Riddle. He stayed by the fire, even as Slughorn went to return his empty glass to his table of crystal decanters and wine bottles.

“Look sharp, Tom,” Slughorn said, and filled his glass once more. “You don’t want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect.”

But this did not seem to concern Riddle. He hesitated a moment, a movement that seemed to Harry incredibly calculated. “Sir, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, then m’boy, ask away.”

“Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?”

Slughorn set his wine glass down on the table. “Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?” Clearly, however, even Slughorn did not believe this to be the case. And Riddle did not bother to lie.

“Not exactly, sir. I came across the term while reading and I didn’t fully understand it.”

Harry watched Riddle run his hand over the ring and knew instantly that the question was unnecessary. Tom had already murdered his father and must have turned this ring into his Horcrux. But Harry did not understand why he was revealing his knowledge to Slughorn.

“No,” Slughorn licked his lips, and Harry could feel through the memory that Slughorn’s mouth had gone dry. “You’d be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that’ll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that’s very Dark stuff, very Dark stuff indeed.”

“But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can’t tell me, obviously — I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could — so I just thought I’d ask —”

Harry, having spent months trying to get this very information out of Slughorn found Riddle’s persuasion tactics impressive. Harry had so rarely bothered with careful flattery and false hesitation. He had been taught to ask for what he needed, and most often, it was given to him. Riddle had clearly learned the art of manipulating others into getting what he wanted, and Slughorn was easy prey.

“Well…” Slughorn no longer watched Riddle. He had returned his gaze to the box of pineapple, still in his hand, and was concentrating very hard, as if choosing which piece to eat next required all of his focus. “Well, it can’t hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed a part of their soul.”

Though Riddle worked hard to contain it, Harry could see how pleased he was that Slughorn was so knowledgeable. “I don’t quite understand how that works, though, sir.”

“Well, you split your soul, you see, and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form… few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable.”

Harry recalled Voldemort’s speech to his Death Eaters in the graveyard, where Harry had been an unwilling audience, bound and gagged against a headstone. Voldemort had described an existence that was little more than a ghost, flitting from animal body to animal body. Voldemort’s soul had been torn from his body on the night that he had gone to Godric’s Hollow to kill Harry, but it had remained bound to the earth nonetheless.

“And how do you split your soul?” Riddle asked. It was more difficult for him, now, to conceal the greedy glint in his eyes.

Slughorn hesitated. “Well, you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature.”

“But how do you do it?”

“By an act of evil — the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion —”

“Encase? But how — ?”

“There is a spell, do not ask me, I don’t know! Do I look as though I have tried it — do I look like a killer?”

“No, sir, of course not,” Riddle amended. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to offend…”

“Not at all, not at all, not offended.” Just as Riddle had reconsidered his approach, Slughorn reconsidered his outburst. Clearly, despite the inquiries, he was still fond of his favourite student. “It’s natural to feel some curiosity about these things. Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic.”

“Yes, sir. What I don’t understand, though — just out of curiosity — I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn’t it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn’t seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn’t seven — ?”

“Merlin’s beard, Tom! Seven! Isn’t it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case, bad enough to divide the soul — but to rip it into seven pieces…” Slughorn frowned, and Harry felt weak.

Cedric had suggested the possibility of one Horcrux, and that this memory of Slughorn’s would identify the object they needed to destroy in order to end Voldemort for good. Harry thought this memory rightly pointed to the ring. It was the ring Harry had seen in his very first lesson with Dumbledore, the ring that was already cracked and in Dumbledore’s possession. And if the diary was also a Horcrux, as Harry had guessed while sitting in the common room with Neville, then that piece of Tom Riddle had already been destroyed as well.

Harry was willing to entertain the possibility of a third Horcrux, something else that Dumbledore had spent months searching for each time he was away from Hogwarts, something that Malfoy was searching for in the castle, but the idea of seven Horcruxes was overwhelming.

It was overwhelming even for Slughorn, who looked very much like he wished Riddle would leave him alone with his pineapple and wine.

“Of course,” Slughorn said, “this is all hypothetical, what we’re discussing, isn’t it? All academic.”

“Yes, sir,” Riddle assured him. “Of course.”

“But all the same, Tom, keep it quiet. What I’ve told — that’s to say, what we’ve discussed. People wouldn’t like to think we’ve been chatting about Horcruxes. It’s a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know. Dumbledore’s particularly fierce about it.”

“I won’t say a word, sir. Good night.”

As Riddle left, both Harry and Slughorn saw the glee on his face. It was terrifying in a mad sort of way, reminding Harry very much of the eleven-year-old boy who had sat on a cot in an orphanage and been told that he was a wizard. It was not just excitement; it was a lust for power that made Harry extremely uneasy.

“Thank you, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Let us go.”

They returned to Dumbledore’s office, where Harry very quickly stumbled his way into the chair beside the desk. Dumbledore, too, took a seat, and did not speak for a long moment. Harry did not have the words for the all-consuming fear and anxieties spinning in his mind, so he could only wait for Dumbledore to speak.

“I have been hoping for this piece of evidence for a very long time,” Dumbledore finally said. “It confirms the theory on which I have been working. It tells me that I am right, and also how very far there is still to go.”

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. He vaguely noticed the portraits behind Dumbledore were not doing their usual performance of feigning sleep. They were all listening intensely. One had even lifted an ear trumpet.

“Is that where you’ve been going, sir?” Harry asked. “All those times you’ve gone away? You’re trying to find all of the pieces?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, and I am sorry to tell you that I have not been having much luck. While there have been many things that have gone in our favour in this hunt, a recent setback has made things rather difficult.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said, unable to bring himself to discuss just how many pieces of Voldemort’s soul had to be destroyed, “why he asked Slughorn about Horcruxes when he had already made one.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “Before I answer your question, Harry, perhaps you could enlighten me as to why you are so certain he had already made one by the time he and Professor Slughorn had this discussion.”

“You said he killed his father when he was sixteen and he stole that ring from his uncle. The way he kept touching the ring — it was already a Horcrux, wasn’t it? He knew how to make them, so why would he reveal his interest in them to Slughorn?”

Dumbledore seemed impressed by Harry’s assessment, which gave Harry a sense of pride. Impressing Dumbledore was not an easy task.

“I think,” Dumbledore said, “that he was less interested in how to create a Horcrux than he was in the idea of creating multiple Horcruxes. What he particularly wanted from Horace was an opinion on what would happen to the wizard who created more than one Horcrux, what would happen to the wizard so determined to evade death that he would be prepared to murder many times, rip his soul repeatedly, so as to store it in many, separately concealed Horcruxes. No book would have given him that information. As far as I know — as far as, I am sure, Voldemort knew — no wizard had ever done more than tear his soul in two. But I believe, by the time Voldemort spoke about this with Slughorn, he had already created two Horcruxes.”

Harry was sixteen, hardly older than Voldemort could have been in Slughorn’s memory, and yet by that age, Voldemort had already torn his soul twice. He’d already murdered two people.

“The diary?” Harry asked. “When he killed Moaning Myrtle?”

Dumbledore, again, appeared impressed. “Myrtle Elizabeth Warren was Voldemort’s first victim, yes. The diary was what I believed to be the first evidence that Voldemort had split his soul. Although I did not see the Riddle who came out of the diary, what you described to me was a phenomenon that I had never witnessed. A mere memory starting to act and think for itself? A mere memory, sapping the life out of the girl into whose hands it had fallen? No, something much more sinister had lived inside that book… a fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it. The diary had been a Horcrux. However, even before I had discovered Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, I was convinced of the possibility of multiple Horcruxes.”

Harry, who was still trying to come to terms with seven Horcruxes, and had only recently considered the possibility of two because of Cedric’s suggestion that one might be hidden in the castle, did not understand.

“But how could you have known?”

“What intrigued and alarmed me most was that that diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a safeguard.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Well, it worked as a Horcrux is supposed to work — in other words, the fragment of soul concealed inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted that diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess somebody else, so that Slytherin’s monster would be unleashed again.”

“He didn’t want his hard work to be wasted. He wanted people to know that he was Slytherin’s heir, because he couldn’t take credit at the time.”

“Quite correct. But don’t you see, Harry, that if he intended the diary to be passed to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts student, he was being remarkably blasé about that precious fragment of his soul concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into somebody else’s path and run the risk that they might destroy it, as indeed happened: that particular fragment of soul is no more; you saw to that. The careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux seemed most ominous to me. It suggested that he must have made — or been planning to make — more Horcruxes, so that the loss of his first would not be so detrimental. I did not wish to believe it, but nothing else seemed to make sense. And then I found proof in an unusual place.”

“You found the ring?”

“No. I was given Slytherin’s locket.” Dumbledore pulled open a drawer and removed the large, golden locket decorated with an ornate, serpentine S. “And the person who gave me this locket insisted that it contained a piece of Voldemort’s soul.”

Harry frowned at Dumbledore. “But who gave you this locket? Where did they find it?”

“It was given to me by Regulus Black.”

“Voldemort gave one of his Horcruxes to Regulus Black?”

“No. In fact, Regulus Black went through a good deal of trouble to retrieve this Horcrux. The task very nearly killed him. Truthfully, I believe he expected it to kill him, but we know that it did not, and instead he had only faked his death and allowed himself to be sent to Azkaban in order to conceal his betrayal of Voldemort. Then, when he returned to Hogwarts three years ago to kill Barty Crouch, Jr. and was arrested with the help of Professor Snape, I took the chance to speak with him. Miss Granger had told me everything that had happened between Regulus Black and Barty Crouch, and I thought it would be worth hearing Regulus Black’s version of events myself. He was less interested in a conversation about his possible freedom and much more insistent that I retrieve this locket from his family home, or find out if the house-elf Kreacher had been able to destroy it.”

Harry recalled the ring, and how the large black stone had been cracked down its centre. He looked down at the locket, and wondered why, if Dumbledore had destroyed the ring, he had not destroyed the locket in the three years since it had been given to him.

“Then you told me,” Dumbledore continued, “a year later, that on the night that Voldemort returned to his body, he made a most illuminating and alarming statement to his Death Eaters. ‘I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality.’ That was what you told me he said. ‘Further than anybody,’ and I thought I knew what that meant, though the Death Eaters did not. He was referring to his Horcruxes. Horcruxes in the plural, Harry, which I do not believe any other wizard has ever had. Yet it fitted: Lord Voldemort has seemed to grow less human with the passing years, and the transformation he has undergone seemed to me to be only explicable if his soul was mutilated beyond the realms of what we might call usual evil.”

“So he’s made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people? Why couldn’t he make a Philosopher’s Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?”

“Well, we know that he tried to do just that, five years ago. But there are several reasons why, I think, a Philosopher’s Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort. While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain their immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependent on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable. Of course he was prepared to drink it if it would take him out of the horrible part-life to which he was condemned after attacking you, but only to regain a body. Thereafter, I am convinced, he intended to continue to rely on his Horcruxes: He would need nothing more, if only he could regain a human form. He was already immortal, you see… or as close to immortal as any man can be. But now, Harry, armed with this information, the crucial memory you have succeeded in procuring for us, we are closer to the secret of finishing Lord Voldemort than anyone has ever been before. You heard him, Harry: ‘Wouldn’t it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces… isn’t seven the most powerfully magical number…’ Yes, I think the idea of a seven-part soul would greatly appeal to Lord Voldemort.”

Harry ran both hands through his hair. “But seven horcruxes — they could be anywhere, anything! They could be invisible — I thought the idea of two was bad enough…”

“I am glad to see you appreciate the magnitude of the problem, but firstly, no, Harry, not seven Horcruxes: six. The seventh part of his soul, however maimed, resides inside his regenerated body. That was the part of him that lived a spectral existence for so many years during his exile; without that, he has no self at all. That seventh piece of soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Voldemort must attack — the piece that lives in his body.”

“But the six Horcruxes, then,” said Harry, a little desperately, “how are we supposed to find them all?”

“You are forgetting — you have already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed another.”

“You mean the diary and the ring?” Harry asked.

“Yes indeed.” Dumbledore raised his injured, blackened hand. “Had it not been — forgive me the lack of seemly modesty — for my own prodigious skill, and for Professor Snape’s timely action when I returned to Hogwarts, desperately injured, I might not have lived to tell the tale. However, a withered hand does not seem an unreasonable exchange for a seventh of Voldemort’s soul. The ring is no longer a Horcrux.”

Harry shook his head. “But the diary almost killed Ginny, the locket almost killed Regulus, and the ring almost killed you — how are we supposed to find and destroy three more objects like that?”

“You are correct. It will not be an easy task. But it is not as impossible as you might think. Remember what I have shown you. Lord Voldemort liked to collect trophies, and he preferred objects with a powerful magical history. His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history; these things suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcruxes with some care, favouring objects worthy of the honour. He will also store these trophies in well-protected places. For example, I stumbled across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunts’ house. It seems that once Voldemort had succeeded in sealing a piece of his soul inside it, he did not want to wear it anymore. He hid it, protected by many powerful enchantments, in the shack where his ancestors had once lived, after Morfin had been carted off to Azkaban, of course, never guessing that I might one day take the trouble to visit the ruin, or that I might be keeping an eye open for traces of magical concealment.”

“The diary wasn’t very special — not like the ring or the locket,” said Harry. “And he didn’t seem too interested in protecting it.”

“The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was the Heir of Slytherin; I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous importance. And I do not believe that Malfoy was ever meant to get rid of it so hastily. Certainly he knew it was important, but had he known what it was truly, I am not sure he would have cast it aside so readily.”

Harry considered this. “So, the other Horcruxes? Do you think you know what they are, sir?”

“I can only guess that, for the reasons I have already given, Lord Voldemort would prefer objects that, in themselves, have a certain grandeur. I have therefore trawled back through Voldemort’s past to see if I can find evidence that such artifacts have disappeared around him.”

“Like the locket — and the cup! They’re both Horcruxes.”

“Yes,” said Dumbledore. “I would be willing to bet — perhaps not my other hand — but a couple of fingers that Helga Hufflepuff’s cup became the fourth of Voldemort’s horcruxes. The remaining two, assuming again that he created a total of six, are more of a problem, but I will hazard a guess that, having secured objects from Hufflepuff and Slytherin, he set out to track down objects owned by Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Four objects from the four founders would, I am sure, have exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort’s imagination. I cannot answer for whether he ever managed to find anything of Ravenclaw’s. I am confident, however, that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe.”

At this, Dumbledore stood, and approached a glass case behind his desk. From this case, he removed the sword of Godric Gryffindor, gleaming silver with a hilt set in rubies, and placed it on his desk.

Harry stared at the sword that he had held four years ago and used to slay the basilisk before it could kill him and his mother. It had seemed so grand and large when he was twelve. It was still grand to him now, but not quite so large as he recalled.

“So the fifth Horcrux will be something related to Ravenclaw?”

“My thoughts precisely,” said Dumbledore. “I believe his true intention when he visited the school to request a teaching position was to search for one of these objects, but unfortunately, that does not advance us much further, for he was turned away without the chance to search the school. I am forced to conclude that he never fulfilled his ambition of collecting four founders’ objects. He definitely had two — he may have found three — that is the best we can do for now.”

Harry frowned, eyes still on the sword. “What if… instead of searching the school for a Horcrux, he came to hide one he had already made?”

“An interesting conclusion,” Dumbledore said. “After the terrible destruction the diary wreaked on this school, you believe that there is another Horcrux still hidden inside Hogwarts?”

“It’s possible,” Harry shrugged. “I thought maybe — well, I thought perhaps Malfoy was sent to find it, to replace the diary his father lost.” Harry glanced up at Dumbledore, but was unable to determine what Dumbledore thought of this theory.

“I do not believe that Voldemort, who trusts no one at all, would have asked such a task of a Hogwarts student. However, I do recall asking you to set aside your inquiries into Malfoy’s activities. I understand that you are worried, but there are plenty of capable people already at the task.”

“I just thought —”

“I understand what you thought, but I do not believe Malfoy has any knowledge of Horcruxes. I am confident that knowledge is contained to you, myself, Regulus Black, and of course I imagine you have mentioned the subject to Ms Granger, Mr Weasley, and Mr Longbottom?”

“Yeah — er — and to Cedric Diggory.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard. “Interesting. You have a way of communicating with Mr Diggory privately, then?”

“Yes. We have a secret code for our letters, so no one can read them but us. He’s actually the one who suggested that Voldemort might have hidden a Horcrux in the castle.”

“If there is a Horcrux in this castle, Harry, I have seen no sign of it. It would be most convenient if there was one, for the sake of our hunt, but I do not believe something so powerful could go unnoticed for so long.”

“Yeah… that’s what Neville said. I’m sure you’re right.” Harry closed his eyes and counted. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, something of Ravenclaw’s, possibly Gryffindor’s — “Sir, what’s the sixth item, then, if you don’t think he found something of Gryffindor’s?”

Dumbledore hesitated. “I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behaviour of the snake, Nagini?”

“The snake? You can use animals as Horcruxes?”

“Well, it is inadvisable to do so, because to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents’ house with the intention of killing you. He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that. He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invincible. I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. As we know, he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill Igor Karkaroff, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemort’s mystique; I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close, and he seems to have an unusual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth.”

“So then really, all we need to find is the cup, and something that used to belong to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw? And then make sure the snake is destroyed before Voldemort is killed?”

“A succinct summary — however, you are forgetting one very important step.”

Harry frowned. “What’s that, sir?”

“The locket has not yet been destroyed.”

Harry looked down at the beautiful golden snake with emerald eyes set at the head of the S. “How did you destroy the ring?”

“With this.” Dumbledore rested his hand on the hilt of the sword.

“And… why haven’t you done that to the locket yet?”

A tiny smile quirked in Dumbledore’s beard. “Give it a try.”

Harry stood uncertainly, but took the sword of Godric Gryffindor from Dumbledore. It had seemed much heavier when he was twelve. He took a step back from the desk, afraid he might hit Dumbledore if he was too close. He tested the distance and angle to make sure he had it right — the locket was so small, and he was afraid to leave a dent on Dumbledore’s desk — and then he swung.

It was as if he had struck one of his mother’s own Shield Charms. Harry was thrown backward and something pounded in his head. He stumbled into the chair he had been sitting in, knocking it to the floor. Gryffindor’s sword hung heavy in his hands and the locket remained on the table, pristine and undamaged.

Harry stepped forward and swung again, this time as hard as he could, thinking perhaps he had been too shy in his first attempt. The result, however, was the same. He fell backwards, tripping over the chair this time. He ran one hand over his scar, surprised to feel a dull ache that he hadn’t felt since last summer.

“I had the same problem,” said Dumbledore, as Harry pulled himself to his feet.

“Then how are we supposed to destroy it?” Harry asked. He shook his head, clearing away the pain, at least for the moment.

“I may be wrong, but I believe it needs to be opened first.”

Harry, though he was certain Dumbledore had tried to open the locket already, picked it up and examined the clasp. It seemed simple enough, but the fastener would not budge. Harry did his best to pry the locket open with his hands and found himself unable to shift it, any more than Gryffindor’s sword had been able to make a dent.

He dropped it back on the table. “I assume you’ve tried Alohomora, sir?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I have, Harry. And Portaberto and Open Sesame, but alas, none of them have worked. And yet I believe that you are the only one, besides Voldemort himself, who can open it.”

“You want me to try Open Sesame?”

“Perhaps not in those words.”

Harry stared at Dumbledore, and then at the locket. The snake’s green eyes seemed to be winking at him in the light of the nearly full moon.

“You want me to try Parseltongue.” As Harry said this, the pendant rattled on the table, and Harry took a step back.

“Yes, Harry, but before you do, I suggest you prepare yourself.”

“What?”

“Remember what you pointed out, that the diary nearly killed Ginny, and it very nearly took you and your mother as well. You have not been pouring your heart into this locket the way Ginny wrote her hopes and fears into the diary, but this locket has been in this room for some time, and has heard many of our conversations, not just over these lessons, but over the last three years. Perhaps my office was not the wisest place to keep such an object, but there were few other places I felt were as protected as this. I do not know what the locket will do when you open it, but I want you to be ready.”

“Me?” His scar throbbed painfully. Harry extended the hilt of the sword to Dumbledore. “No, I’ll open it, but you should destroy it.”

Dumbledore gestured to his blackened hand. “I could hold the sword, yes, but I do not think I would have the strength needed to destroy the locket. It should be you.”

“Isn’t Regulus Black down in the dungeons watching Malfoy? If he’s the one who found it in the first place….”

“Harry, I am quite certain that as you have already destroyed one Horcrux, you are more than capable of destroying this one.”

Harry looked down at the locket. It was rattling violently now, and he wondered if he even needed to open it, or if it was about to fall open of its own accord. He wished he felt as confident as Dumbledore did. He wished there was still some of Felix Felicis left in him, but that had run out long ago. Harry could not even fathom how late into the night it must be.

He remembered how he had trusted the diary, and how easy it had been for Tom Riddle to convince Ginny to pour herself out to him. That had been the first Horcrux of Voldemort’s creation. What would happen with Voldemort’s third?

He tightened his grip around the hilt of Gryffindor’s sword. He leveled the blade against the trembling locket. He took in a deep breath, and whispered, “Open,” in Parseltongue. His scar burned sharply as the catch on the locket released, and the golden snake opened, revealing a pair of eyes inside the locket, one in each window. They were not like the scarlet eyes that Voldemort had when Harry had fought him in the graveyard and the Ministry; they were much more like the eyes of the charming young man who had conned and murdered Hepzibah Smith.

Harry lifted the sword, but before he could bring the blade down, a voice hissed from the locket and he froze, scar throbbing. He could hardly think as his head pounded, and through the pain a voice hissed in his ear.

Harry Potter, the Chosen One, who has put his faith in a foolish old man.

Harry froze, sword half-raised. He could not tell if the locket was speaking in Parseltongue or not. He did not know if Dumbledore could understand what the voice was saying. But he pushed through the pain in his head, shook his hesitation aside, and lifted the sword.

You did not want to do this Harry, and yet he asked it of you.

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s voice cut through the hissing of the locket. It was calm and clear.

Harry heard Dumbledore, and wanted to follow through, to finish the swing of his sword, but the dark eyes were mesmerising, the words entrancing.

Consider how much has he asked you to do. Consider how much more he will ask of you. Do you know what this old man has sacrificed in his quest for justice?

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s voice was slightly more urgent now, but the locket seemed to speak over him.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, because of someone else’s sacrifice. Because others are braver than you, more powerful than you. You trust them to protect you, Harry, and to what end? They know… They know this quest will end in your death —

Harry struck.

There was a clang this time as Gryffindor’s sword struck Salazar Slytherin’s locket. The glass inside shattered and thick red blood oozed from the cracks and onto Dumbledore’s desk. The pain in his head faded.

“Sorry about the mess, Professor,” Harry said. He looked at Dumbledore and saw that Dumbledore had stood and drawn his wand. He looked poised to attack, and Harry wondered what he had expected the locket to do.

Dumbledore stowed his wand back in his robes. “That was well done Harry. Your second Horcrux destroyed.”

“Only three to go.”

[obsidianarchives]

To All The Wizards: The Battle

“Maybe nobody’s coming,” Ginny said squeezing her arms around herself as she looked around the deserted seventh floor landing. After Hermione had gone to the dorms to get her, she and Ron explained to Ginny Harry’s request. “I can’t believe you just let Harry run off. You’re not even concerned about where he’s gone?” 

Pointedly ignoring Ginny’s inquiry into Harry’s whereabouts Hermione said, “Well then it’ll just be us.”

She looked down at the warm Galleon in her hand, the same one they had used to communicate as Dumbledore’s Army the previous year. The numbers etched into the gold surface to signify the minted date had now shifted to read “7th fl.”

“We’ll give them a few more minutes,” Ron said with a grin. “Here, before they get here. You first.” He thrust the bottle of shimmering potion, the Felix Felicis, to Hermione.

“No, let Ginny.” She clutched her coin, a sense of dread blooming inside of her. She wasn’t sure if she could stomach the potion.

Ginny eyed the vial in his hand, her lips pursed even more severely, looking not unlike her mother. “He really ought to have taken it for himself.”

“He’s with Dumbledore,” Ron said, echoing Harry’s sentiments from only a half hour ago.

“That’s exactly what concerns me,” she said as she tipped the potion back. Blinking a few times, she smiled and licked her lips. “That was wonderful!”

She passed the bottle to Hermione and even smiled at her. Not one to waste time, Hermione tipped the contents back into her mouth. A deep metallic flavor coated her tongue with a pleasant coolness. As she swallowed, she felt a warmth spread from her throat through the rest of her body, fortifying her.

“Oh,” she said in pleasant surprise.

Ron took it and threw it back to take the final swig. He started and then beamed. “Blimey, this feels great. Just like at the match.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You didn’t actually take it for the match, Ron.”

“But I thought I had. Same thing isn’t it?”

“Let’s hope not. It made you insufferable,” she said with a grumble as she peered down the corridor.

Their eyes met, the realization that this was the first time either of them had mentioned the match that was the catalyst of their fight this year. Hermione expected to feel old irritation or anger, but found that oddly, she felt nothing. Instead, she chuckled and shook her head.

“I don’t think I will be, I feel too good,” he said, returning her smile.

Ginny looked between the two of them wearily. “Well I don’t. We need to go. Soon.”

“Felix nudges you where you need to be to accomplish your ends. That’s what makes it Liquid Luck,” Hermione explained, but as she said it she realized she felt it too, the tug of an impending deadline. What deadline was looming over them, she couldn’t say.

Before she could voice her concerns she heard footsteps approaching in two directions. Hermione pointed her wand at the steps coming from the eastern corridor as Ginny pointed hers to landing below.

“Luna!” Ginny said with a grin, lowering her wand.

At the same time Neville stepped out from the shadows of the other corridor, hands raised. “I got the message. What’s up?”

Ron pulled out the Marauder’s Map from his back pocket, still folded open to their current location just a few passageways from the Room of Requirement. In brief, he explained Harry’s suspicions and what they had been tasked to do.

“We don’t have much time. Malfoy isn’t appearing on this map, which means he must be in the Room of Requirement.”

He looked up at them, eyebrows raised, waiting for any questions. Hermione nervously checked her watch, paying no mind to the guilt that threatened to take over her anxiousness as she eyed the gold bracelet on her wrist. She didn’t thinks she should be required to seek Dean out specifically, but still the thought nagged at her.

“Alright then. Snape is in his office in the dungeons, so we’ll need to split up. Ginny, Neville, and I will watch the Room of Requirement. Luna and Hermione, you’ll go down and keep watch on Snape.”

“I’m going to the dungeons,” Ginny said, taking Hermione by surprise. Did Ginny realize that if she went to the dungeons she would be going with her?

“No, I need to keep an eye on you,” Ron said. Normally, Hermione might defend Ginny, but they did not have time for an argument.

Ginny faced him squarely, her neck growing pink. “Hermione said Felix will nudge you where you need to be. I need to be in the dungeon!”

“Maybe we should wait for others,” Luna interjected, looking serenely between them all, seemingly unaware of the conflict.

This deflated Ginny. “I don’t think anyone else is coming, Luna. Erm, I don’t think most people keep their coins on them like they used to,” she said kindly.

Neville’s face was screwed up in thought. He glanced back towards the corridor he had emerged from. “Maybe I can wake up Dean. And I dunno where Seamus went off to but I bet he’d be for helping out, too.”

“I guess we could wake Lavender and Parvati, too.” Ginny nodded encouragingly at Neville.

“We don’t have time,” Hermione said, looking at them all in exasperation. They quickly quieted. It was like she could physically feel the time slipping away from them. “For all we know nothing is going to happen tonight, but if it does we need to be in position. Ginny will come with me and you lot will go watch Malfoy.”

Luna and Neville nodded resolutely, pulling their wands out, ready to depart. Ron looked like he was going to protest, glaring at Ginny, but Neville tugged at his arm towards the western corridor.

“Meet back here before dawn,” Hermione instructed as they walked away. “And don’t forget the signal if you run into trouble! I showed Ron the charm!”

As they walked away she heard Neville placating Ron, who he was now frog marching towards the corridor, “She’ll be fine. She’s a better dueler than you anyway.”

Tucking her own coin back into her pocket she turned to face the stairs. There was no trepidation as she peered through the darkness at the landing below, only a vague voice that she wasn’t sure was her own saying, “Hurry.”

“Shall we go?” Ginny asked, looking at her with a guarded expression.

Hermione looked down at the wands in their hands, and gripped hers tighter.

“Let’s go.”

—

The corridors leading down to the dungeons were eerily quiet. Nonsense, Hermione told herself, it’s in your head. They’re just normally quiet. So many times she had patrolled the corridors at night, often alone, and she had never felt unsettled. Yet, despite the lingering metallic taste of the Felix Felicis on the back of her tongue that seemed to radiate warmth throughout her body, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running late to an important appointment. Whether this unease was in spite of or informed by the Felix, she wasn’t sure.

The silence was growing increasingly louder, almost humming in her ears as they descended the castle staircases. She glanced at Ginny, who had volunteered to accompany her. They hadn’t been properly by themselves since the summer, but this fact didn’t seem to phase Ginny at all. In fact, she seemed almost calm. Perhaps the Felix Felicis had worked more properly on her.

After a moment of nothing but their own echoing foot falls to accompany them, Ginny spoke up. “So why didn’t you invite the others? I think Dean might have liked to join.”

There it was. The very thing that had been nagging her since she called the D.A. Unconsciously, with her free hand, Hermione palmed the coin in her pocket. 

“He went to bed early, I imagine he’s asleep,” Hermione said, more curtly than she meant. She didn’t like how Ginny’s eyebrows flew up as if to say, “Oh, interesting.”

“You both just seemed inseparable, so I was surprised he wasn’t joining us.” Her tone was airy and detached but Hermione didn’t miss the slight purse of her lips or the edge to the statement.

She bit her lip, frustrated at how perceptive Ginny was. The real truth was she didn’t know why she didn’t want Dean here. Of course, there was the slight embarrassment at the thought of trying to explain this hair-brained scheme of Harry’s, especially after the disaster of the Department of Mysteries last year. She shivered at the memory. 

“We aren’t inseparable. We only needed a couple of people, and it should be people who were OK with breaking the rules. Not just a lot of Gryffindors who like the adventure.”

“Dean’s not like that,” Ginny said with a snort.

Hermione felt an intense heat fill in her and grit her teeth to hold back her retort. The familiarity that Ginny spoke with dug at her. They had been broken up for months. What right did she have to say what Dean was and was not like?

They were now descending the steps into the labyrinth of the dungeons. It was colder down here and always felt a bit damp no matter the time of year or weather outside. This did little to quell Hermione’s irritation but she was pleased when Ginny said no more.

Was this how things were always going to be from now on—short snide remarks between the two of them? At this point, Hermione had no idea how to confront the issue. Her mother had taught her to always walk away from conflict when dealing with school bullies. But this was her friend, or she had been at one point. Yes, Dean was her ex-boyfriend, but she had chosen Harry.

“You don’t think Dean will be angry?” Ginny said, now in a lowered voice, so as not to alert anyone of their approach.

Hermione felt something snap in her. “Is that what you want? You’ve been upset about Dean and I dating for months.”

“That’s not true,” Ginny said, but Hermione could tell there was no sincerity behind it.

“Sure,” she said in a huff, stopping midstep. “I’ve just imagined your glares and snide remarks here and there, like after Slughorn’s Christmas Party or after Harry cursed Malfoy!”

They were facing each other and Hermione’s fists were balled up at her sides, months of growing frustration mingled with an intense anxiety that had nothing to do with Ginny or Dean. 

“That’s not what this is about,” Ginny said dismissively, resuming their pace down the dank corridor.

The sconces lining the walls were adorned with cobwebs thick with dust and water dripped from the low ceiling. Hermione still felt uneasy, but now it was accompanied with a draw forward, the urge to continue on.

“Well what is this about then?” she asked irritably, falling in step with Ginny.

“You should have asked Dean to come.” Before Hermione could interject that Dean wasn’t any of her concern, Ginny continued. “You don’t understand, none of you three do. You all are so impossible to penetrate—‘The Golden Trio’ and all that rubbish.

“I spent years on the outside looking in, wishing I were you, really.” She glanced at Hermione, actually looking a little embarrassed. “I’m Harry’s girlfriend and you both still haven’t told me where he’s gone with Dumbledore.”

Hermione bit her lip, steeling herself as they approached Snape’s office door. She pressed her conflicting thoughts down, trying to solve the larger problem at hand. They couldn’t just stand right outside his office, could they? A light prickle spread over the back of her neck and she turned. There was a small alcove where she assumed an old statue must have once sat. She motioned Ginny into it and they stood facing each other, uncomfortably wedged in the small space.

Would Dean be angry with her? Of course he will be, she answered herself miserably. It irked her that Ginny was right. But she couldn’t ask him to join them. If Harry was right, this wasn’t his fight. He had his family to worry about, and himself to keep safe. She didn’t think she could bear it if...besides there were other battles that needed fighting, not just Harry’s.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of her spiraling thoughts. Calm and steady, she reminded herself.

“You can shake your head and look conflicted all you like, but you know I’m right,” Ginny whispered to her knowingly.

Hermione glared at her, annoyed that she was still inserting herself into business which, as far as she was concerned, was in no way her own. 

She didn’t have time to come up with a clever retort. Quietly at first, but quickly growing louder was the faint echo of pattering feet. Hermione peered around the corner of their alcove. Squinting, she could make out a small figure approaching. Looking rather harried, and moving more swiftly than she knew he could, Flitwick was upon them.

If he noticed them he did not show it, moving directly to Snape’s office and throwing open the door without so much as a knock. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other in shock, animosity forgotten. They stepped out of their alcove and closer to the door, trying to better hear what was being said.

“—must come at once!” she heard Flitwick’s squeaky voice exclaim. It got more muffled as he moved further into the office “...Emergency!...Order...”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a thump, causing Hermione and Ginny to jump back in surprise. In the next moment, dark and looming, Snape glided out. He looked unsurprised to see them, his face impassive.

“Professor Flitwick has collapsed in shock,” his commanding voice reverberated off the walls. “Tend to him while I go get help.”

They gaped at him, but Hermione, ever respectful of his authority as their Professor, was already moving to the door as he had commanded. Without another word, he swept away down the corridor.

As she crossed the threshold of the office, she already knew they had made a mistake. The instinct came as keenly as the caution to hurry had come earlier. Her eyes fell on Professor Flitwick, slumped on the floor near Snape’s desk.

Ginny rushed past her and kneeled next to him to try and rouse him. Hermione’s eyes scanned the room, searching for what had fallen, or else some simmering potion that might have exploded to create such a loud bang. A sick realization opened like a pit in her stomach as she turned to Ginny. Ginny looked back to her, the same horror dawning on her own face.

Hermione’s hand shot into her pocket. The coin was there, hot to the touch—the signal. Taking her widened eyes as confirmation, Ginny said insistently, “We have to go now!”

“We can’t just leave him!” Hermione said, a bit more shrill than she intended.

“We had one job and we let Snape get away! Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“OK, well yes. Prop him up.” She pointed her wand to Flitwick’s chest as Ginny hoisted him into a sitting position against Snape’s desk. “Rennervate.”

They held their breath for a moment. The jinx had been a strong one. For a moment, Hermione worried that it might not be enough, or that he had been attacked with worse a jinx than she was familiar with. But finally, Flitwick stirred, his eyes opening lazily, mumbling incoherently.

“Bloody hell, he really didn’t hold back on him.”

“Professor, take your time getting up. You’re fine, but may be a little dazed. We have to go. If you can’t get up we’ll send somebody down for you,” Hermione said, kneeling down in front of him, trying to hold eye contact with his listless gaze.

“Come on,” Ginny said, tugging her up by her arm, and back out of the room. Ginny had always been much stronger than she looked.

—

They weren’t going to beat Snape to the others. But Hermione knew of a few secret passageways that she had used to get around third year. They wouldn’t be far behind, and could still arrive in time to help.

“I thought I knew most of the passageways. I bullied most of them out of Fred and George by my third year. Or so I thought,” Ginny said from behind her in a huff, sounding almost impressed.

Hermione didn’t respond, a vague sense of fear clouding her thoughts. As they emerged from one passageway into a sixth floor corridor, she thought she could hear screams. She felt a shiver of fear run through her, but it was fainter, not as potent as the fear she had felt in the Department of Mysteries. She could almost feel the Felix Felicis in her veins pumping, saying “press on, press on.”

They kept running, wands drawn, not knowing what to expect as the sounds of battle grew louder. Bangs and thuds reverberated along the walls. The staircase leading to the seventh floor was littered with debris. Errant spells were now whizzing overhead, illuminating the hall. A familiar flame-like purple curse whipped overhead, striking a nearby portrait and leaving scorch marks in the fleeing painted figures wake. Hermione froze, the memory of a searing pain lashing across her chest overtaking her. It was the Department of Mysteries all over again. Dolohov had been thrown in Azkaban, but he must have escaped. How many nights had she seen him so effortlessly flick his wand, unleashing that purple whip-like curse at her in her nightmares?

“Hermione. Hermione!” She looked down at the two hands gripping her shoulders and back up into Ginny’s eyes. “It’s going to be OK! Can’t you feel it?”

She felt cold sweat clinging to her skin and a sickness in her stomach at the memory of Dolohov’s smirk as she collapsed. She felt fear. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. Bang! But there it was, thumping in her veins, persistent through the noise, “press on, press on.” She took a deep breath.

“Right yes, let’s go.”

Ginny grabbed her free hand and pulled her up the stairs. Just before they reached the landing, Hermione ripped her hand from her grip and dove to the side; a large suit of armor had come flying down the staircase in an accompanying blast. Scrambling to her feet Hermione looked around.

“Ginny!” she yelled, climbing up the remaining stairs. She couldn’t find her anywhere.

The sight before her was chaos. There were Death Eaters all around, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. She felt disoriented, unable to tell friend from foe. There was rubble everywhere—wood from portrait frames that had been blasted apart, shards of glass, chunks of stone, and blood, too much blood.

A spell hit the stair railing next to her, blasting stone into the air, some of it cutting into her skin. She had to move. Darting into the fray she noticed Neville, Lupin, and Ron struggling with the Astronomy Tower door.

“Bloody Death Eaters!” she could hear Ron shout over the den of chaos.

A flash of red hair caught her eye. It was Ginny. She was in single combat with a frail looking Death Eater. He must have been one of the newly escaped from Azkaban. Running towards Ginny, she shot a Stunning Spell at him. Luckily, it landed.

Before she could reach Ginny, a raspy voice called from behind her, “Oi! I remember you!”

It was Dolohov. Without a word, Hermione whipped around, throwing an Impediment Jinx at him. Deftly, he blocked it. Unperturbed, she shot another jinx at him. And another. She intended to keep him on the defensive this time.

He was able to cast a few curses between her offenses but she dodged them easily. The fear that had almost overcome her earlier and had fueled her nightmares over the summer months was mysteriously absent. If anything, she felt anticipatory, expecting to see him casually flick his wand, unleashing the curse that had caught her before.

She was sweating from exertion. Others were battling, and she was vaguely aware of the stone walls crumbling around them, the ground slick with what she was unwilling to see.

“Flipendo!” she shouted, ducking under his ill-timed curse. He fell back and knocked his head against a large stone.

Wasting no time, she turned, looking for a new opponent. She saw Luna, dueling two full-grown Death Eaters. Anger fueled her forward. She threw a hex that hit one of them square in the back. He swayed for a moment before crumpling to the ground.

Suddenly, something solid collided into her, pushing her off her feet. The weight of her body hitting the ground knocked the wind out of her as a purple curse hissed past, stinging her right ear.

“Stupefy!” a voice yelled.

She gulped for air as she got up, looking around. Where Dolohov was once standing there was now a cloud of dust from where his body had collapsed with a heavy thud. Confused, she turned around. A rush ran through her when she spotted Dean, pointing his wand squarely at where Dolohov had been standing, after apparently rising and attempting to sneak up on her.

“Are you mad?!” Dean asked, dropping his wand arm and whipping around to face her. He was furious, his jaw clenched and eyes wide.

“I...you pushed me,“ she gasped, still trying to catch her breath, “Thank you.” She looked at him, full of sincerity, emotions enveloping her, taking over her senses. The battle faded away. He had come. He wasn’t safe. But he had come.

His face was hard, but she could see his eyes soften just a little. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her roughly into him, gripping her tightly.

“You should have come and got me,” he said into her hair.

She said nothing. What could she say? He was right and wrong. A good girlfriend would have gone to him, but a good girlfriend also probably didn’t start off as a fake one. If Lupin was here, then the Order surely was. Dean shouldn’t be here. Nonetheless, she squeezed him back tighter.

A scream of rage brought them back to earth, but almost not in time. A Shield Charm appeared around them before the Body-Bind Curse could hit its mark.

“Inseparable. I told you.”

Hermione whirled around to see Ginny looking smug, just for a moment, before she turned serious again. “Tonks is down the corridor by herself three to one, she needs help. Dean, you go help Lupin, Neville, and Ron with the blocked door.”

Dean looked between them. Hermione realized how strange these instructions probably sounded. “What is a Tonks?” she could imagine him asking. And their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from third year, who also happened to be a werewolf, was back. Seeing that this made sense to Hermione, Dean didn’t say anything. Instead he nodded curtly, gave Hermione’s arm a squeeze, and headed in the direction of the Astronomy Tower door, which Lupin was now trying to spell open with intricate wand movements.

The chaos came back into focus. There was a blond Death Eater, who seemed to be responsible for the majority of the curses, standing on a pile of rubble and shooting off Killing Curses and other sinister-looking hexes in every direction, not caring if he hit friend or foe.

There were bodies scattered along the floor that she had not noticed before. Desperately, she wanted to see who they were, to see if it was anyone she knew. But she pressed on, knowing that knowledge wouldn’t be helpful to her right now.

The shattering of a window rung through the hall and a shower of glass fell on top of them. From nearby there was a hoarse cry. Spells and curses were still flying all around, but they all just seemed to miss without Hermione even trying to dodge them. She had almost made it to where she imagined Tonks must be when an explosion went off. She turned towards the source of the noise. It was the Astronomy Door.

The door was still intact but Neville was now flying away from it, arcing overhead, and landing just a few yards away from Hermione with a sickening thud. Horror rooted Hermione to the spot. She waited. The curses flying around her seemed to fade away. She stood, waiting, muscles tensed. It was as if she couldn’t move until he did. Finally he stirred feebly, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive.

Then a witch in dark robes, another nameless Death Eater, spotted him, a malicious grin on her face. She approached him, wand raised.

“NO!” Hermione yelled, levitating some nearby rubble and throwing it at the witch.

“I can kill you both. I have time,” the witch said in a bored voice.

Hermione threw more rubble at her, which the witch danced away from. She kept throwing, forcing her back, back away from Neville.

Then the floor trembled, the whole corridor shook. Dust began cascading down from the ceiling.

“ARGH!” someone cried out as the ceiling came crashing in on them.

Hermione threw herself in the direction of Neville, casting a Shield Charm over them both. She tensed up, bracing, feeling large stones and debris bouncing off of her shield.

“Thanks ‘Mione,” came a muffled voice next to her. Neville lifted his head up slightly, and she could see blood dripping down his head. “M’alright. Go check on the others.”

Relief clenched at her throat and tears stung in her eyes. She clutched her wand tightly, as if doing so would keep the tears at bay along with the debris. Nodding, she got up, and once the debris had ceased to fall, she removed the shield.

Dust was heavy in the air. She coughed and shielded her eyes, but could see nothing. She could hear others coughing and calling out to each other. She could hear running. Spells that were still issuing from the one untamable Death Eater in the north end of the corridor set the haze aglow.

She was beginning to make out figures. Above, half the ceiling remained. The half near the Astronomy Tower now laid in ruins on the ground.

“Hermione!” she heard someone call.

“Dean?” she called back.

A squat Death Eater ran by, shooting a hex straight for her. She blocked it, and sent a Stunning Spell back. He smiled at her, looking pleased to have found another opponent.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” Ginny’s voice asked in the haze.

Harry. More relief and more panic gripped her. There were calls for him to come back.

Another, more immediate, deeper voice called, “Come on. We can’t keep the Dark Lord waiting. We’ll have fun another day!”

The squat Death Eater shrugged at Hermione and ran off, but not without sending a few last poorly aimed hexes over his shoulder.

Hermione leaned over hacking, trying to rid herself of the dust now coating her lungs. As she sat back up, she was surprised to find that everything had quieted. There were murmurs, but no more shouting and no more bangs. In the absence of the noise, she also realized that she felt cold, the metallic taste in her mouth gone. No longer was there a pumping in her veins telling her to “press on, press on.”

The dust around her began to swirl and dissipate. She could now clearly see the multiple bodies strewn throughout the hall. Most appeared to be injured, but two were clearly unconscious, or worse. They were covered in dust and rubble, making it difficult to ascertain who they might be. At the far end, she thought one of them might have red hair. Frantically, she looked around, searching for her friends, needing to see that they were OK.

To her relief she saw Dean and Luna across the hall, working to clear the descending staircase that was now totally blocked with debris, the Death Eaters having tried to impede any followers. The two of them levitated a large piece of a stone column to the side, clearing an exit down to the lower levels.

After a moment she began to move towards him. As he nodded to Luna, indicating job well done, their eyes met. Immediately, he moved toward her, not looking away, until they were both running to each other.

They embraced, their lips meeting fiercely, not caring about the dust covering their faces or the sweat dotting their brows. They pulled apart and Dean cradled her face in his hands.

“You shouldn’t have come without me.”

“You shouldn’t have come at all,” she said in response.

He looked into her eyes, incredulous. “Not come? How could I not? The noise woke all of Gryffindor Tower up. Then the fourth year girls said they could see the Dark Mark reflected off the lake from their windows. When Parvati and Lavender said you weren’t in bed, I knew you were here.”

“This wasn’t your fight, Dean,” she said, placing her hand over his own on her cheek, trying to soften the harshness of her words.

One hand dropped away, and he looked at her, trying to ascertain if he was hearing her correctly. “This is a war Hermione. Every fight is our fight.”

“Just because it’s a war doesn’t mean you have to fight every battle.” From the crease in his brow she knew he was upset. “You could have gotten hurt. I couldn’t have borne that. Besides, I truly didn’t know this...” she trailed off, looking at the destruction around her.

His expression softened slightly. He moved his hand from her face to her hair, picking out little pieces of rubble and stone.

“Seamus tried to stop me,” he said with a laugh, “but he couldn’t so he followed.”

Across the way, Hermione saw Seamus helping Neville back to his feet.

“Ms. Granger!” Professor McGonagall called, approaching quickly, covered in debris, a small gash on her cheek.

Hermione jumped back from Dean, feeling ridiculous the moment she did. Professor McGonagall obviously had other things on her mind than the romantic habits of her students.

“There has been an incident with Mr. Weasley,” seeing the shock on her face, she then corrected, “Mr. Bill Weasley. He is alive but badly injured. I think it might be best if you accompany Mr. Ron Weasley down to the Hospital Wing.”

Hermione turned to see Ron, looking ghostly pale and in a daze, walking slowly towards the stairs, Ginny at his arm.

“Mr. Thomas, seeing as both our Gryffindor’s prefects are indisposed, will you and Ms. Patil meet me in the Headmaster’s Office? There are students that need herding back to bed and halls that need patrolling.”

Dean seemed surprised, but nodded. “I’ll go get Parvati now.”

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said. Then, turning to Hermione, she said, “Poppy has already written to Arthur and Molly. Tell the others I will be joining everyone shortly.”

Hermione nodded, knowing the others meant the Order. Would Dumbledore be joining them as well?

Dean looked at her and shrugged. “I suppose as a prefect stand-in I should set a better example but—” and he leaned down to kiss her one again on the lips.

After they parted, Hermione walked over to Ron and Ginny, who were waiting by the stairs, apparently at McGonagall’s request.

“Is he going to be—”

“Alright?” Ginny said, finishing the thought. Her chin quivered but her voice was clear, “McGonagall said he wasn’t in immediate danger but...it was Fenrir.”

Hermione gasped.

“Ron saw him as McGonagall and Lupin were taking him down to the Hospital WIng. I guess he looked pretty bad.”

Staring ahead blankly, Ron nodded slowly. “Just a bit shaken up. M’fine.”

Hermione reached out and rubbed his arm in comfort. “Shall we go down then?”

“I’m going to find Harry,” Ginny said, taking both Ron and Hermione by surprise.

“Ginny you can’t. It may not be safe ye—“

“The Death Eaters fled.” Then with her chin set, eyes blazing, she said again, “I’m going to find Harry.”

Exhausted, they didn’t fight her. They agreed to meet in the hospital wing and went their separate ways. Ron and Hermione walked at a leisurely pace, both silently trying to process the shock of it all. Occasionally, they would remark on the surprising damage along the corridors as they descended, disturbed by the amount of damage the fleeing Death Eaters had inflicted.

The hospital wing itself was mostly empty. Lupin and Tonks stood near Bill’s bedside, as Madam Pomfrey poured a putrid green colored mixture into a bowl. Ron rushed over to them.

“How is he? Will he...is he...?” he asked.

“He’ll live,” Madam Pomfrey said, shooing him back as she began dipping a cloth rag into the mixture. “I can’t yet determine the full damage of his injuries, but he is in no immediate danger right now.”

Color flooded back into Ron’s face as he watched Madam Pomfrey dab at the wounds with the salve.

Hermione made her way over to Lupin and Tonks, hugging them both. She looked questioningly at the only other occupied bed in the ward. A body lay on it, fully covered.

“A Death Eater,” Lupin said.

“Chap by the name of Gibbons, I believe. Judging by the curse marks, I would say it was probably another Death Eater that dunnit to him,” Tonks said.

“So everyone else?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“Accounted for, that we could tell. Were there any more of your friends down there, Hermione?” Lupin asked. Hermione felt embarrassed. He didn’t sound disappointed, but the unsaid chastisement was there. For the second year in a row, they had led their friends into unnecessary danger.

“No, I don’t believe so. Everyone with us is fine.”

Lupin nodded solemnly, rubbing his chin as he stared down at Bill.

Seeing nothing left to do but wait, Hermione pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Where was Harry? How had the Death Eaters gotten in? Was anyone else hurt?

These questions rattled around in her brain as the clock hanging near Madam Pomfrey’s office ticked away. She could now feel the ache in her joints, and soreness in her muscles from where things had hit her and where she had fallen to avoid further injury.

Finally, the hospital wing doors swung open. They all seemed to hold their breath, waiting to see who it would be. It was Ginny and Harry. Harry looked dreadful, blood dripping down his face, his nose bruised.

Relieved, she stood up and ran to him, throwing her arms around him. He squeezed her back, rubbing her back. She was shaking from exhaustion but finally felt peace wash over her. Dean was fine. Ron was fine. Harry was fine. Everyone was OK.

“Are you alright Harry?” she heard Lupin ask.

“I’m fine. How’s Bill?” Hermione pulled away from Harry as he asked, allowing him a better view of the eldest Weasley.

She watched Harry’s face as he grimaced. His glasses were cracked, she realized. Her hand twitched, moving to repair them, but she stopped herself. They could be fixed later.

“Fenrir wasn’t transformed into a full wolf, couldn’t you just heal them with a charm?” Ron asked Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione, in all her exhaustion, couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Lupin beat her to the answer.

“Those are cursed wounds. He likely won’t be a full werewolf, but he may have some wolfish qualities,” Lupin explained.

“Dumbledore might know something that would work though,” Ron said hopefully, “Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on his orders. He can’t just leave him in this state.”

Hermione wanted to reiterate that cursed wounds couldn’t be healed. They could be managed, but never completely eradicated. But again someone else spoke first.

“Ron,” said Ginny. “Dumbledore’s dead.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Hermione felt as if she had taken a step forward only to be met with air, and now she was falling. She searched Harry’s face for anything to convey that Ginny had misunderstood. Instead, he looked solemnly between her and Ron before turning back to the others.

“Snape killed him.”

The words settled onto her mind, resolute, like a fact from a textbook. Unlike the facts she accepted and catalogued in her mind, this one had power. A void opened up inside of her, threatening to consume her. She bit her lip, trying to hold it all in. Lupin let out a sob from the chair in which he had collapsed. It had all shifted, the very fabric of the Wizarding World as they knew it. She wondered if everyone felt it, too.

To Be Continued…