#Aurore Meyer

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Lullaby For An Auror

Aesop Sharp made peace with the fact he was going to spend the rest of his days in solitude. Fate had a different plan.

I went full Steph Meyers and wrote Some Like It Sharp from Aesop's perspective. None of this would be possible without @tea-withjamandbread who is my amazing consultant and even the author of multiple lines in this story. Love ya🧡

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN!

Lullaby For An Auror (27.2k words)

tw: past trauma, original character death, descriptions of violence, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, explicit, vaginal sex, teacher-student relationship (reader is adult), aesop sharp needs a hug

Aesop didn’t dream often. 

However, when he did, it was only the nightmares he remembered in the morning. Flashes of light hurting his eyes, the sound of a woman’s cry as she’s thrown into a stack of crates, blinding pain searing in his face, his leg and hip, pain so horrible he momentarily couldn’t focus on anything else. It was only when a ray of green light tore through the chaos all around him, when the world’s two foulest words rang through the air.

Avada Kedavra!

His partner. His oldest friend. His sister. That wild, mischievous look in her ever sparkling azure eyes was gone, replaced by a dull void. It was as if time slowed down as Aesop watched her fall, her mouth slightly open, her skin losing its pinkish hue by the second. There was more screaming, and it was only the pain in his throat that told him that he was its source. More shouting, more lights. 

Someone at the ministry must've realised Aesop and Ashley were led into a trap and reinforcements were sent.

It was too late, though.

Ashley was dead, and Aesop would be joining her real soon, if his withering hold on his consciousness, not to mention the blood flowing out of his leg and face were any clue. Using the last bits of his strength, he crawled the short distance to Ashley’s body and covered it with his own, pressing his head against her chest as if trying to will her heart to start beating again. His sobs were raw and ugly, and they made him ache even more than he already was, and when a pair of strong arms began pulling him away, he tried to fight them off. It was no use. He was weak, and he was dying. The last thing he saw before unconsciousness finally enveloped him in its sweet, painless embrace, was his partner. The woman who’s stood by him since before he held his first wand was dead, killed in cold blood like an animal.

—

It’s been more than a decade now. The dream would come less and less, but it never truly went away. It never failed to wake him up in cold sweat with tears running out of his eyes, his throat sore from screaming out of his sleep. The pain was so horrible right then like it was on that day itself. Aesop let himself fall out of the bed in a heap of limbs. He whimpered and cried out in pain, gripping his left leg as he crawled towards the little chest at the foot of his bed. Once he managed to do so, he immediately gulped down several vials of Wiggenweld potions that were stored inside, closely followed by a bottle of Calming draught. 

His heartbeat was fast and uneven, his breathing was shallow, and his entire body was covered by gooseflesh and a thin layer of sweat, as he still writhed on the cold floor. 

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t, he was going to die. 

Little by little, however, the potions began taking effect. The calming draught was first to work. Aesop’s breathing grew even once more and he felt his thoughts slowly dissipating, until his mind was blank, filled with gentle nothing. Then, and only then, did he feel the cramping pain in his leg start to lessen, enough so that he was able to climb back into bed and fall onto his side heavily. Aesop focused on his breathing, focused on keeping his mind empty, focused on falling back to sleep, and hoped there would be no more nightmares.

Aesop only ever remembered his nightmares. Everything pleasant that happened in his dreams was promptly forgotten by his self-destructive brain.

Then, however, something changed.

—

It was one of the more eventful years. In all of his time of teaching, he never before heard of a student starting their attendance in Hogwarts as anything other than a first year, unless they were transferred from a different school, of course. And as sceptical as he originally was, the girl proved not only to be a formidable young witch, but also perhaps one of the strongest, most talented and most resilient students Aesop ever taught. 

However, as resilient as she was, she was still a sixteen year old lass, and the trauma she went through was a bite many wizards beyond her years and experience wouldn’t be able to chew. It fell onto Aesop to watch her shatter and attempt to put her back together. 

It was a job he didn’t think he was a very good choice for. Actually, in his opinion, almost anyone would be better. Aesop wasn’t the motherly Matilda Weasley and Mudiwa Onai, or the ever empathetic and optimistic Mirabel Garlick and Abraham Ronen, and he absolutely wasn’t as wise and at peace as his dear friend Dinah Hecat was. And yet, the young Ravenclaw seemed to click with him the best. He was the one to whom she opened up, he was the one in front of whom she finally dropped her facade.

He should've known that one afternoon in his office wouldn’t be enough. Their little encounter on the top of Astronomy tower sometime later proved as much. 

He stayed with her almost the entire night, his hand resting on her back as they sat together underneath the staircase leading to the Ravenclaw tower. He let her talk and cry her poor eyes out, being the one firm spot in the universe to ground her at that moment. And when he saw the first hints of rising sun fight their way above the horizon through the windows in the corridor, he called for a house elf to bring a vial of Dreamless sleep potion from his stores. 

Aesop was tired, and his body was aching, so he didn’t accompany her all the way up the stairs to her common room, but he made her swear to him she would drink that potion, that she would just lie into her bed and not worry about anything. He could only hope she actually followed his instructions. Once he finally reached his own chambers, he felt pretty miserable himself. His only comfort was the fact he only had afternoon classes today, so he was able to get at least a few hours of sleep. 

Honestly, he’s had worse, back when he was an Auror.

Before he retired to bed however, he wrote a few short letters. One for the Ravenclaw prefects to make sure nobody woke their troubled classmate, and then a few more to the teachers of her classes for that day, in which he explained the situation. When he finally fell into bed in just his underwear, too exhausted to bother changing, he only thought of the girl and the situation he got himself into for a little while, before sleep’s possessive spell descended down on him.

It was the first time in years Aesop remembered a dream that wasn’t a nightmare upon waking up.

He didn’t even realise he was dreaming at first. He was still sitting with the young woman, his thumb slowly stroking over her shoulder blade as he listened. She was leaning against him, resting her head on his strong shoulder. Aesop could almost feel where her tears slowly fell upon the fabric of his trousers. Her body was warm against his side, her voice so quiet nobody but him would be able to hear it. How he hated to see this frankly incredible young woman like this, fragile and vulnerable, like a mighty phoenix that has just been reborn. He didn’t know what came over him when he pulled back slightly to press a short, comforting kiss into the crown of her hair.

Aesop opened his eyes. He guessed it was around noon, judging by the amount of light coming from his sitting room’s windows. By Salazar, he was tired, not to mention aching all over from his climb of the Astronomy tower staircase. However, as he thought of the events which transpired, he found that he had no regrets. 

Of course he had no regrets! Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t arrive when he did. Who knows what Miss (L/N) might have done…

No. Even now, he would gladly climb all the way up again if there was even the slightest possibility she might be there again. 

This thought prompted him to get up from his bed with a pained groan, wandlessly summoning a vial of Wiggenweld from his robes, and gulping it down in a single swallow. After a few deep breaths, he felt relief seeping throughout his body. Slowly, he stretched, wincing as he heard his joints pop loudly. His injury often made him feel older than he was, but today he felt positively ancient. However, he couldn’t dwell on such matters right now, as there were more important things at hand.

After he’d pulled on his dressing gown, he made his way over to his sitting room, soon settling into his armchair and summoning a house elf.

“What can Meeky do for Professor Sharp?”

“Bring me something to eat, please. Anything’s fine. And a spot of tea. And… Please, check the fifth year girls' dormitory in Ravenclaw tower. A girl there was… unwell the previous evening, so she’s been given a sleeping potion. She should still be sleeping now, but I want to be sure.”

With a nod to her head and a popping sound, the house elf left his chambers. Aesop thought back on his dream. It was… curious to say at least. The dream wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good either, it just… was. And yet he remembered every single detail of it, from the feeling of her hair tickling his neck, to the cool dampness of her tears staining his trousers. And the kiss he pressed into her hair… That was the one thing he didn’t do yesterday, and he had no idea why would his sleeping brain play out such a scene for him.

He was probably just thinking too much into it. Dreams were often just brain sorting memories into their proper boxes, combined with abstract thoughts that often made no sense.

Still, it was curious.

Why would he remember it?

—

He began to meet the young Ravenclaw more often, asking her for tea in his office after their last classes for the day, and to his surprise, she never declined. No, (F/N) (L/N) always came, and she came right on time. 

He talked to her about her hobbies and interests, and about her life in general. He was curious as to where ‘The Hero of Hogwarts’ grew up and how. 

When he saw her flinch and make a face at the title, he made a mental note to not call her that again.

He knew that she came from an upper class Muggle family even before he met her in September. An aristocratic family actually - which is why he was rather surprised when he first met her. She was generous and humble, clever and attentive, polite if not a little too proper at first. 

During their talks, Aesop slowly uncovered that her relationship with her family was lukewarm at best and strained at worst. She wasn’t looking forward to going home for the summer. 

At night Aesop dreamed about inviting the girl over to stay in one of the many free rooms of his own house in the Highlands for the holidays, where she’d be free to fly around, free to explore, free to learn, practice and have fun, as opposed to being stuck in some townhouse In Knightsbridge for two months, unable to even go to a park by herself. He dreamed of her beaming at him after he’d told her, dreamed of her arriving for supper, dressed in one of those ensembles she wore whenever she was running errands for someone, broom in hand and an excited mischievous smile on her face, intent on telling him all the things she saw on her travels. 

Happy.

Aesop wanted to see her happy like she used to be, like he saw her in his class when her potion turned out fantastic and he praised her for it.

At least his subconsciousness certainly wanted that, for it was projecting this image to him during his slumber, nearly every night after they met during the day, their little ‘tea times’ bleeding into his dreams.

It couldn’t be helped, something about her just made Aesop feel like she could actually understand him. And he often felt like he understood her. 

—-

He never actually made the offer. Of course he didn’t. How would he even explain it to her parents? “Please, let your sixteen year old daughter stay the summer with me, a forty-three year old man with a limp, a large facial scar and an overall rough exterior, so that she can fly around Scottish Highlands on a broom and practise her magic.” Aesop shuddered. He’d have his teeth fed to him so fast, he wouldn’t even manage to reach for his wand.

No, no. He spent his summer mostly by himself, only occasionally meeting up with Dinah and Abraham, or visiting his mother. He drew, revived his garden once more (though the plants were nowhere as potent as when Mirabel handled them), brewed some extra potions for the hospital wing as well as himself, and spent the evenings tucked away on a little bench near his father’s memorial with a book and a drink. Firewhisky, ale, butterbeer, whatever was on hand.

And he thought about (F/N) a lot. Wondered how she was. Actually considered owling her or stopping by, just to check up on her. He was glad that he didn't, as Mudiwa was ever so helpful and mentioned during one of the staff meetings over the summer that the soon-to-be sixth year student was staying with her and her daughter for a bit. It put his mind at ease. At least she wasn’t alone.

But it didn’t stop his mind wandering towards her every now and then, and then, as the beginning of term creeped closer, she appeared in his dream yet again. 

In this dream, Aesop was sitting on his little bench, reading some book, drinking a butterbeer, his leg propped upon a little wooden footstool. A typical summer evening for him. And yet it was different, for Miss (L/N) was there too. She was lying on her back upon a blanket a short distance from him, watching the first stars appear up in the summer sky and humming some sort of tune, her voice pleasant and undistracting. 

“Getting a tad too dark to be reading,” she mentioned suddenly, her voice quiet. She wasn’t wrong - Aesop could barely see the text in the book. He didn’t even know what he was reading, now that he thought about it. He could've cast Lumos to see better, but instead he closed the book and put it down onto the bench next to him. Without another word, he stood and walked over to the blanket. The girl paid him no mind, seemingly too fascinated with the stars. 

Aesop wouldn’t normally lie down on the ground, blanket or not, he was too fond of his back for that, not to mention even getting into such a position wasn’t exactly good for his leg.

And yet he soon found himself settled beside the young Ravenclaw, his leg and back absolutely fine. “The stars are quite beautiful, are they not, sir?” she asked quietly. And as Aesop watched the myriad of little dots littering the blue and purple sky like tender freckles, he couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

“Indeed they are.”

He didn’t much question his dream in the morning. He did however swap his coals for a set of watercolours the following evening. Curious that he never tried his hand at painting the night sky before…

—

It wasn’t the first time the girl brought him some potions ingredients. She did so after the first time she showed him just how what happened down in those caverns broke her, and then she sort of kept bringing them. Little bits and pieces, but always something useful and valuable. Unicorn an thestral hair, Acromantula venom, dragon scales… Once, she brought a Phoenix feather. Where on earth she got it, Aesop didn’t know, but instead of storing it for later experiments, he decided to hang onto it, perhaps turn it into a nice quill.

This little habit of hers, bringing him various ingredients, seemed to have carried on into her sixth year, if the quite sizable pouch she brought with her this evening was anything to go by. 

Aesop invited her to his office on Friday the first week of term, and was strangely pleased to see her beaming at him from the very moment she opened the door after he beckoned her inside. 

He asked about her summer, and then only happily listened with the tiniest little smile on his face as she told him in detail. The grief and sorrow were still lingering in the depths of her brilliant eyes, but it was obvious to Aesop that the girl would be alright. 

She was a tough one.

Why he kept on inviting her for their little talks after that, he didn’t know. At least, he wouldn’t admit it to himself. The truth was, he grew rather… accustomed to the girl. While there was an air of youth around her, she was incredibly mature for her years - the potions master didn’t know whether that was due to her upbringing, or the events of her fifth year - and could easily hold any sort of conversational topic he threw at her, her sentences measured and thoughtful. She was able to perceive a lot of things with grace many adults dreamed of possessing, yet she was always honest and genuine about what she said.

The more they met up, the more he could see her relax around him, and the professor had to admit that he felt more calm and content in her presence as well. It caught him off guard the first time he (accidentally) made her laugh; he just finished with some highly ironic, long-suffering monologue about students’ behaviour in his classroom, and the respect they seem to (not) have for the space, when the sound of her laughter cut through the air. 

He blinked in surprise, genuinely not having expected the reaction. Which is not to say he didn’t highly enjoy it. He felt the corner of his lips curl up as he watched her. The Ravenclaw's eyes were closed, her head tipped slightly back, her hand clasped over her chest. Her laughter was completely unadulterated, strangely melodic, and quite addictive. Aesop waited for her to finish before speaking, a sort of mischievousness and cheek he thought he lost long ago colouring his own voice.

“I’m glad you find my utmost misery amusing, Miss (L/N).”

“Oh, Sir!”

—

Aesop hated having someone go through his things. 

His workspace was always almost pristine, well organised, no unnecessary clutter. After all, potions were a tricky and potentially dangerous subject, and one errant sneeze could prove disastrous, so he required his students to always keep their potions stations clean and well organised, and practised as he preached. When it came to his living space, though… he was not nearly as meticulous.

He might as well be honest with himself - his rooms were quite the mess. Despite staying at Hogwarts for ten months at a time, he pretty much lived out of his trunk, and only stored his clothes inside the wardrobe after the house elves washed them. He also kept leaving his clothes out for them to wash always inside of his sitting room as opposed to his bedroom, and he had explicitly told them not to clean that chamber.

Aesop knew he was being rather ridiculous, the Hogwarts house elves probably saw rooms much, much messier than his in their lifetimes, not to mention they most likely witnessed even worse kinds of messes. However, the professor was simply uncomfortable knowing there was somebody going through his things. His rooms were cleaned over the summer, then left alone once more, when he moved back in at the end of the summer. He kept telling himself he was going to tidy up himself, but then every time he actually arrived at his chambers, he was just so utterly exhausted, all plans about tidying up went out of the window. 

Now, though, he really needed to get on with it. He invited the young Ravenclaw to his room in a moment of madness. Except, it did make some semblance of sense - after all, Faculty tower and Ravenclaw tower were quite close to each other, separated by a single flight of stairs in the Grand staircase, and seeing as they usually spoke late into the evening, it was simply more convenient for the girl to be close to her common room, and for Aesop to not have to go anywhere 

His stomach tensed as he observed the state of his rooms, prepared himself to do something he’s not done in the decade he’s worked here.

“Um…Deek?”

Not five seconds later, there was an audible pop as the older house elf appeared before Aesop’s eyes. 

Matilda always praised her old elf friend, and Deek himself insisted he was available to anyone who may need him. Aesop asked for his aid in other matters before, and was fairly fond of the elf. He could almost say he trusted him the most out of all the house elves.

“Good afternoon, professor Sharp,” Deek greeted with a smile on his face, “how may Deek assist today?”

Aesop swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to be taking you away from your other responsibilities, Deek, but I wanted to ask if… if you’d be so kind and tidy up my chambers for me.” 

Deek beamed up at him, his wrinkly face twisting into a look of utmost elation, one Aesop couldn’t understand. He never saw anyone so happy at the idea of cleaning. “But of course, sir! Deek will gladly clean professor Sharp’s rooms. Is… is Deek allowed to clean the bedchamber as well?” Aesop sighed once more: “Yes… it’s especially the bedroom that needs cleaning. I’m sorry to be bothering you with this Deek, I know I could’ve chosen absolutely any house elf and not take you away from your other work.”

“Oh, absolutely not, sir! Professor Sharp could’ve chosen any other house elf, yet he chose Deek. Deek finds it an honour. The professor needn’t worry, Deek shall leave his chambers spick and span!”

And with that, Aesop nodded and excused himself. He did trust Deek, and he knew the house elf would do a good job and not judge him for the mess his rooms were, but he still needed something to occupy himself with while he waited.

Dinah Hecat was surprised to see him in front of her door. “Hello, Dinah. Have I ever told you that your room is absolutely the worst?” Aesop grit his teeth, as his hand absentmindedly went to his bad leg, very sore after climbing the several flights of stairs in order to get to Dinah’s chambers above the Trophy room. Even with the usage of Floo flames, it was still quite the climb.

“Not in the past week, no. Come on in, Aesop, I just made tea.”

—

Once Aesop entered his rooms later that afternoon, he almost felt like he accidentally broke into someone else’s chambers. Which was a ridiculous exaggeration, of course, but he still felt like the space was brand new, even cleaner than it was after the summer. Deek wasn’t lying when he promised he’d leave the place ‘spick and span’. Even stains that seemed to never go away were nowhere to be found. Upon the large chest in his sitting room was a letter, positioned so he’d see it immediately. He hobbled over to the chest, grabbed the parchment and turned around to half lean against, half sit on the chest.

Professor Sharp,

Deek took the liberty to also wash all items of used clothing. Professor Sharp shall find all of his clothes ironed and folded within his wardrobe. Deek also implores that Professor Sharp never hesitates to turn to Deek for any help he may require. Deek is happy to be of service.

Respectfully, 

Deek

That house elf was a treasure, Aesop thought, as he neatly folded the letter again and made his way to the bedroom. If he thought the difference was dramatic in the sitting room, he almost had to scrape his jaw off the ground when he entered the room. Like night and day. The bedchamber was spotless. The sheets and blankets were as vibrant in colour as the day he first bought them, and they made a light soapy smell linger in the dim room pleasantly. His chairs and floor were barren of all items of clothing, and Aesop could see his trunks have clearly been emptied of their contents and moved to the corner of the room. 

Fires were burning in the hearths, and it gave the rooms a genuinely cosy atmosphere. Aesop couldn’t help but breathe a content little sigh. He should’ve done this a long time ago. Being in the clean space actually improved his already pretty okay mood, and he couldn’t wait to welcome his favourite student to the comfort of his now very comfortable chambers and share a cup of tea here, as opposed to the damp coldness of the dungeons. 

The evening couldn't come soon enough.

—

Aesop felt just slightly self conscious as he did finally welcome her. She was looking around the room curiously, taking in all the little details, all the little knick-knacks he collected over the years. “You have very lovely chambers, sir,” she said softly then. “Except maybe for that hand sticking out of the box. That is a little creepy,” she added with a chuckle, and Aesop cringed. Why did he still keep that? Yes, it was a memento from one of his first cases as a full-blown Auror, but it was still a severed, mummified hand sticking out of a box.

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t know why exactly he felt the need to apologise. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable… What if just being alone with him in his private rooms made her uncomfortable? He asked himself then, a twinge of panic coursing through him. To his surprise, the girl chuckled again. She held his gaze, looking completely at ease, even crossing her leg over the other and leaning further against the backrest of the armchair he set out for her in his sitting room.

“It’s alright sir,” she chirped, “I think we both know it takes a lot more than a disembodied hand to scare me.” 

There was a certain undertone in her voice he didn’t exactly like. It was the testament of the horrors she faced last year, things no fifteen/sixteen year old should face. Things nobody should ever face. In an attempt to distract her, he shifted his attention to the canvas bag that was lying by her feet. Of course the girl once again brought some ingredients with her, and while Aesop was grateful, he also had to admit he was running out of space for them. He didn’t want the Ravenclaw to feel bad by rejecting her little presents, though, so he asked with a smile:

“Are those more potion ingredients?” The young woman nodded at him, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. Aesop chuckled: “Good heavens, lass! Soon enough I won’t have enough space in the classroom to teach you lot, because it’ll be filled with a lifetime supply of Acromantula venom and unicorn hair! Why don’t you bring something sweet we can nibble on instead next time, hm?”

It would appear she had as much of a sweet tooth as he, for the next time she came around, there were several slices of treacle tart in that bag of hers.

—

Aesop Sharp hadn’t shown anyone his work in…a very long time. Not even Dinah. No, he closed himself off absolutely when he drew. For some reason however, he wanted the Ravenclaw to see. She let him see so much of her in those times they met, he supposed it was only fair she saw this side of him as well. He was ridiculously giddy about the decision. Seeing her eyes light up, as she fascinatedly observed and commented on each and every one of his drawings, not to mention the paintings of various beasts upon the walls, made a no small amount of pride bubble within his chest.

And later that night, when he lay sleeping in bed, he saw her sitting in front of the fireplace that transformed into the doorway to his atelier. She was snuggled up in the armchair, legs crossed, a cup of tea in her hand as she looked pensively into the flames. Looking down, Aesop realised his fingers were blackened from coal, because he was in the middle of creating her copy on the parchment.

—

The young woman made climbing entire flights of stairs actually quite worth it, thought Aesop as he stroked the Thestral mare’s neck. It was smooth and warm under his fingertips. 

Aesop was fond of Thestrals. He’d occasionally go and see them in the stables when his leg was feeling up to the task, but this was somehow different. These weren’t Thestrals from the Hogwarts herd, these were actual wild Thestrals from the Highlands, perhaps even the Forbidden forest! How on earth did this girl manage to bring them here? How did she make them this friendly and tame? What even was this place, and how did he not know about it in all of the years he spent inside the castle?

All these thoughts running through his head were put on hold when she began talking.

They had a number of things in common, and it would seem their opinions on Thestrals would be another. When she finished speaking, Aesop couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, holding her small hand in his own. “There is no without,” he said. “They may not be around to talk to us, but as long as we remember them fondly, as long as we still let them guide us, they will never be really gone.” These were the words his mother said to him when his father, her husband, died. 

They comforted him then, and he hoped it would be comfort they’d bring to (F/N)(L/N) too.

After their tea, she showed him around the so-called Room of Requirement. Aesop was amazed when he found there were even more potions stations in another room down the stairs, five, six, no, eight more, in fact! Figures the girl was at the top of his class, she obviously brewed a lot, and the ingredients she grew herself were looking much better than he’d ever manage to grow on his own. 

Just as there were working areas within the large chambers, there were leisure spots as well. Sofas and armchairs, plenty of blankets, rugs, and various decorations. He saw a few game tables, many of which had a little stack of pillows upon one of the chairs next to them. It felt … homely. A safe, comfortable space, where the young Ravenclaw was able to hone her skills in peace, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Had there not been so many stairs to get into this room, Aesop would’ve almost asked whether she’d share it with him. 

But, no. This was her own space. He was just glad that she allowed him to see it. 

It did feel a little strange, though. Out of all the people she could’ve told about this room, out of all of her friends, she chose him to aid in carrying this amazing secret. It made him feel oddly special. Made a strange warm feeling flow around in his stomach, made his heartbeat increase ever so slightly. And when she gave him a bright, conspiratorial grin, the potions master was sure his heart skipped a beat. And just like that, a new emotion spread within him, one that he didn’t quite recognise just yet, but it was absolutely there, and it made him shiver.

—

Aesop didn’t know why he didn’t let go of her hand while they sipped on their tea. Maybe it was just a natural instinct, maybe it was the comfort it seemed to bring her. The comfort it brought him. His thumb stroked along the back of her hand, the skin there soft and delicate. And when she turned her hand, and their palms connected, it felt like a small sizzle of electricity.

The potions master swallowed heavily. The simple touch of her hand on his made that new emotion flutter through him again. “I thought about what you said,” he spoke softly, his voice lacking its usual gruff and acuteness. The young woman only tilted her head slightly, signalling her full attention to him.”Death, while not intentionally cruel, is still a scary concept. I saw plenty of it. And the Thestrals… they used to make me nervous. But then… then my partner died. And later I came here. And one of the Hogwarts Thestrals, the ones that pull the carriages, approached me on the grounds. It was the first time the beast didn’t make my hair stand on end.

“It nudged its face against my hand, wanted me to pet it. So I did. I think they… they are exactly what a person needs to see…” Aesop felt his eyes getting warmer and damper, but knew he wouldn’t cry. He felt her hand close tighter around his own, and squeezed hers in return. The potions master looked around the room they were sitting in, bathed in soft blue light, its atmosphere that of absolute peace. The two of them stayed in the still and quiet, hands connected between their armrests.

Upon waking up, Aesop thought about the dream for a while. He was still of the opinion that these dreams of his… that they were just the reverberations of his waking mind, but something about them just made him feel strangely on edge. They were just too… lifelike. They felt so real, that his mind was in a state of confusion for several minutes after he woke up, wondering where did the girl go.

Nevertheless, he was in the end quite glad that it were quiet talks in a magical room that he dreamed about, as opposed to cold nights in Scarborough harbour.

—

If anyone told Aesop a week ago that he was going to touch a Graphorn that was kept by a sixth year student within the school walls, he would’ve probably called them insane, and requested their immediate visit of the hospital wing, so that Nurse Blainey could check them for head trauma. Now, however, as the potion master stood still like a statue with his hand outstretched while the huge beast sniffed at it, he was very much sweating bullets. Only when he was absolutely sure the creature wouldn’t attempt to bite his arm off and then some, did he actually reach a little further to touch its snout. It was cool and hard to the touch, and the graphorn’s immense power could be felt in a single exhale  of its damp breath. Soon enough, Aesop took his hand away once more and stepped back, more than wary of the beast that could maul both him and (F/N) to death within mere seconds if it so wished.

He watched in shock as the young Ravenclaw approached it without a hint of fear and stroked the tentacle-like appendages by its mouth, before letting her hands travel up its razor sharp looking tusks and petting the tough hide there, like this elephant sized apex predator was nothing but a mere house cat.

How?

The Ravenclaw told him about the trials - she mentioned them before, but only ever described them as ‘challenges to prove she was worthy of handling her ancient magic abilities, as well keeping the Keepers’ secret safe’. Never before it occurred to Aesop that they could be something as suicidal as subduing a Graphorn! 

So she told him more, this time in those seats they sat in previously, which Aesop was grateful for. Not only because it meant he (probably) didn’t need to constantly watch out for a Graphorn intent on tearing him to pieces 

(“He wouldn’t tear you into pieces, sir, he’s actually a very sweet fellow” - “a very SWEET FELLOW?!”),

but also because he absolutely needed to be sitting down for some of the stories she told him.

Suffice to say, the potions master didn’t know whether to feel impressed, angry, or absolutely terrified, and by the time she finished talking, he wondered whether the Keepers’ portraits in that ‘Map Chamber’ were fire resistant. 

“You… you do realise you’re lucky you didn’t die, right?” he asked, his voice quiet. (F/N) was a clever young woman, why would she agree to undergo such decidedly suicidal tasks voluntarily? Just to protect the wizarding world? Because she believed it to be her fate? Or maybe she didn’t know just how dangerous it truly would be? Whatever the reason was, it made Aesop genuinely surprised that not only was she alive, but she appeared as healthy as ever.

The look she gave him then was one of understanding, as if she was a Legilimens reading his exact thoughts. “I do,” she said simply, “I took a lot of risks. And I honestly think it was a stupid amount of luck rather than skill that kept me alive.” The next sentence she didn’t say. She didn’t need to, Aesop heard it clear as day; ‘If the need arose, I would do it again.’ 

And yes, Aesop reckoned she would. If it meant saving even just one innocent life, (F/N) (L/N) would take on whatever came her way, were it mongrels, trolls, inferi or graphorns. Aesop wanted to scoff and say something about ‘Gryffindor qualities’. However, he knew that would make him an absolute hypocrite, because was she to ask for his help, Aesop knew he would hobble over, wand drawn and gladly fight by her side. On the other hand, though, after everything she’s been through, one thing he wanted most of all was for her to never have to fight again…

It took him somewhat by surprise. That is, how close he’s grown to the young woman over the course of a year and a bit. He wondered if he would care this much was she anyone else, if the person to have gone through what she went through was somebody else. It was his duty to protect all of his students, but this one… this one was special. She was somehow… a little more important to him than the rest, even than the members of his own house. The thought itself was almost… frightening.

Therefore, Aesop cleared his throat. “Do you think… Do you think you could show me some of your magic? How you use it in combat, that is.” 

The Ravenclaw, who was apparently as lost in her own head as he was before he spoke blinked quickly. “Sorry, sir?” she asked, clearly not having heard a word he said. “I asked whether you could show me the use of your ancient magic in combat.” he repeated patiently. “Oh!” her eyes widened in realisation, “um… not against you, though, right?” An unexpected chuckle broke from Aesop’s mouth, quickly followed by another: “Merlin, no. I’d very much like to leave here in one piece, thank you very much. I meant some training dummies. Surely you must have at least one around here, don’t you?” “Well, I-”

Before (F/N) finished her sentence, the entire room began shaking. Aesop quickly grabbed his armrests and looked around the room with a slightly panicked expression. “Sir, look!” said the girl excitedly then, seemingly unbothered about the impromptu earthquake. The potions master followed her gaze to the little alcove on the right side of the room, between two staircases. The statue that stood there began sinking into the ground and a corridor started forming in its place. From his position, Aesop could see a staircase materialising, and then not much else.

The young woman jumped up and, even as the room was still shaking, started running towards the source, disappearing soon from his sight. “Miss (L/N)-” Aesop called and reached for her in vain. The tremors stopped barely fifteen seconds later. 

“Merlin’s beard!” the girl called out in awe. The sound of rapid footfalls followed, until she once more appeared in his field of view, a large grin on her face. “Sir, you’ve got to see this,” she said and offered her hand to him where he was still sitting in one of the armchairs. Reluctantly, the teacher took her hand and let himself be pulled up. Since she didn’t let go once he was securely on his feet once more, Aesop took it as an invite to lean a bit of his weight against her as she led him to a room that wasn’t there two minutes ago.

When they descended the small flight of stairs, Aesop’s eyes widened. They entered a large room with a tall ceiling, barren of almost any furniture. Instead, in a neat row stood 5 training dummies, ready to be practised on. The room was large enough for a proper wizarding duel, and there were even some props in one corner Aesop presumed were to be used as things behind which one would be able to duck and cover. 

“This place is spectacular,” Aesop said with no small amount of wonder in his voice, before looking at the Ravenclaw. She was still holding onto his arm, bracing him so that he wouldn’t put too much weight on his bad leg, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her. And when she turned her head towards him, he realised just how close they were. He felt a bit of colour rush into his cheeks as he cleared his throat and slowly stepped away, immediately feeling a little colder.

“Well, Miss (L/N)... whenever you’re ready.”

The young woman smiled and nodded at him, before taking off her cloak, leaving herself in a white shirt with tie and a pair of dark bloomers. She then stood facing the training dummies and drew her wand.

Aesop was in for quite the show.

Gooseflesh appeared on his arms as he literally felt the air ripple with magic, bright blue light appearing at the tip of (F/N)'s wand. The first training dummy was lifted off the ground and promptly thrown back again, then again, then again. It broke upon the last impact, splinters flying in all directions. The next dummy was hit with a different sort of spell - it was dragged towards the girl, shrinking as it went until it was the size of nothing more than a mouse, at which point the Ravenclaw lifted her foot and stomped down on it. Third dummy exploded into nothing but fine dust. 

And then, in a display more spectacular than Aesop ever saw in his entire life, he watched the young woman lift her wand high into the air and felt the way she gathered up the magic in the air all around them inside of her wand, before bringing it down upon the figurine in like a lightning bolt, so bright he had to shield his eyes. The sound it made upon making contact with its target was cathartic, a loud thunder like bang as not only the target, but also the last training dummy next to it exploded, more splinters flying around.

When the dust settled, the potions master looked at her in awe. The girl was incredible. She stood still with her wand drawn, her hair messed up slightly, a drop of sweat appearing at her hairline. Aesop felt his heart flutter.

She was beautiful.

Aesop stood there, breathing deeply, absolutely caught off guard by the display of her power. She hadn't uttered a single incantation. The power this girl held at her fingertips was both terrific and terrifying, and yet Aesop didn't feel worried… If anyone was meant to wield such power, he honestly couldn't imagine a better person for the job. 

And when she turned around to face him, her face bearing a beaming smile, his heart fluttered again and Aesop found himself grinning back at her. When she walked back to him, Aesop's hand lifted as if on its own accord and he brushed a stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear before he realised what he was doing and promptly took his hand away.

He cleared his throat.

"Well… that was quite the display, Miss (L/N). Thank you for showing me. With such prowess, it's no wonder you were able to defend yourself as you have."

The young woman smiled at him, and Aesop could see a speck of colour rushing into her cheeks. "Well. I cannot use it all the time, it takes a while for it to accumulate. I mostly use the spells you and the other professors taught me."

"Oh? In that case, perhaps I actually would be willing to engage in a friendly duel. As long as you promise not to turn me into dust, that is."

The grin that appeared on her face then sent a wave of giddiness through him, one Aesop didn't feel in quite a long time, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I promise, sir."

—

They had themselves a little sparring session, adrenaline running through his veins as he dodged and blocked the spells sent his way, as he sent his own in return. She’s not mastered her nonverbal magic as of yet, which played into his cards, but it was almost no use to him as the young woman was quick on her feet, and for every non-verbal incantations he threw at her, she managed to send three back at him. He felt alive like he had not in years - he’d occasionally spar with Dinah or Abraham, but them being already masters in their fields, not to mention having known and duelled with them for years, the potions master could hold his own (though he knew if she wanted, Dinah could still very easily kick his sorry arse). 

When it came to this young Ravenclaw however, her moderate newness to the art of duelling actually made her more dangerous, as she was unpredictable, Aesop didn’t know what to expect from her. He was able to prepare himself for a few spells, as he saw the beginning of her wand movements, but it was still quite the thrill. Was his focus to waver for a single second, the professor could very easily have both his body and his pride severely wounded. He felt himself grinning throughout their entire little duel.

He did win in the end. She moved her arm a little too ardently for her Confringo (and who on earth taught her that spell) and it cost her the precious time she needed to counter his Levioso. Aesop walked over the young woman suspended in the air with an expression that was slightly verging on smug. To his surprise, the girl was smiling back at him joyfully. 

“I must say, Miss (L/N)... that was rather impressive. Had you not said that Glacius some minutes ago out loud, you’d still be thawing me right now. Do tell, where did you learn the Blasting curse?” 

“A friend taught me…”

“I see… It’s not exactly a curriculum approved spell. Though, seeing that you’ve most likely used it only in your defence, as I haven’t heard any rumours concerning a Ravenclaw blasting her classmates through the corridors, I won’t make you tell me who it was.”

“I appreciate it, sir.”

“I will, however,” Aesop cast a non-verbal Finite on the young woman, who was quickly lowered back onto her two feet, “guide your hand in casting the spell. Movements this wild could easily result in the loss of your eyebrows, and I rather think that would not exactly go with the otherwise aesthetic qualities of your face.”

Where did that come from? Aesop was glad the young woman was currently brushing at her clothes and was not looking at him, because otherwise she’d see the bit of blood rushing into his cheeks. Did he just compliment her looks?

“Thank you, professor Sharp. I’d like that very much.”

—

At night that scene played out in his head once more, and he saw himself behind her, holding onto her dominant hand with his own, guiding her wrist through the air as she sent a blasting curse after blasting curse on more training dummies the Room was ever so helpful to provide.

“Keep your hand away from your body, you don’t want to set yourself aflame, but don’t swing it so much either. Your arm stays stationary while your wrist moves,” he instructed, stepping closer behind her to grip her wrist tighter and keep her arm from flailing. Her back was mere inches from his chest, and yet he felt her warmth seep through both her and his clothes, felt her presence as well as her magic in front of him, he felt it thrum through her veins underneath his fingers on her pulse point. It was nearly intoxicating. 

The next Confringo she cast was nearly flawless, and in turn powerful - the recoil made the young woman stumble back somewhat, right into his torso, and his free hand instinctively came to steady her by grabbing onto her left shoulder.

At least that’s what Aesop remembered happening several hours ago.

Now, however, his hand went to grip at her hip instead, and unlike before, he didn’t let go of her immediately after he was sure she wouldn’t fall. No, he felt her warm flesh in his hand, as real as could be, felt the curve of her back under his sternum, her bottom against his thighs. 

What’s going on? He asked himself even as he heard ‘Well done, (F/N)’ leave his own lips. The young woman turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with the light of the various torches along the walls. Aesop released her wrist in order to trace his calloused forefinger from her cheekbone down her jaw, until he reached her chin. He lifted it up ever so slightly, his own face moving closer, so close he felt her warm breath on his lips, which he unconsciously licked. 

However, just as (F/N) closed her eyes and leaned her head to the side, Aesop’s eyes opened. He could feel sweat upon his brow as he stared up into the ceiling of his bedroom.

What in the name of Merlin’s holey underpants?

Has he… has he really just woken up from a dream in which he (nearly) kissed his student? Well, technically, she was the one to lean forward, but it was his dream. He held the young woman by her hip, kept her pressed against his body. What was going on with him, surely he wasn’t attracted to his student who only just came of age a few weeks ago! No, no, that couldn’t be. He just spent a lot of time with her, the potions master reasoned, he spent more time with her than with any other student and that was it. He was fond of her and he saw her often, and his mind was just terribly tired and made up nonsensical dreams, little tidbits of newest memories coupled with his brain sorting through itself.

That was it. Surely, that must be it.

It was perfectly normal, completely natural. His relationship with the young Ravenclaw was platonic and that’s how it was going to stay, his dreams had absolutely no meaning.

Only once Aesop nodded to himself and closed his eyes again, only once he felt the pull of sleep upon his consciousness once more, did two simple thoughts fly through his mind.

Why did he remember the dreams?

And why was his heart beating like mad when he thought back on them?

—

Aesop never spent too much time picking out Christmas presents. He didn’t need to, as there were only a handful of people for whom he bought something, and he preferred to keep it simple. A bottle of something good and strong for Abraham, coupled with some confectionery from Honeydukes, or perhaps a trick from Zonko’s. A good book and a fine scarf for Dinah to battle the cold nights in the castle. And last but not least, some good French wine for his mother as well as the perfume she always wore. That was Christmas shopping for Aesop. Quick and simple. And then, as he hobbled down the street of Hogsmeade on his way to the Three Broomsticks for maybe a quick bite, but really for a stiff drink, he saw it. Behind the window of Tomes and Scrolls, a leather-bound journal. Which wouldn’t be all that spectacular, had the journal not have had a very beautiful thestral engraved into its cover. 

Aesop instantly thought of his student.

He stared at the beautiful journal for several minutes, lost in thought. It would be a lovely present, thoughtful and genuine, but… Would it be appropriate? Would she even like it? What if it made her uncomfortable? After a while during which he tapped at the ground with his cane contemplatively, he entered the shop. 

Aesop reappeared on the streets of Hogsmeade less than five minutes later, journal in hand. The thestral stood out beautifully against the dark, shiny leather - as did the young Ravenclaw’s full name on the other side where he had it added.

The mulled mead and roasted turkey he had in Sirona’s pub obviously did him some good, as the pain in his leg was feeling more annoying than unbearable, and once he arrived back at the Faculty tower by Floo and made his way to his chambers, sitting down at his desk, it was merely a thrum somewhere under his skin. He checked what he bought with his short list, and contentedly checked everything off. As he slowly unpacked everything he bought that day, the journal caught his eye once more.

Aesop laid it upon his desk and opened it, running his fingers over the paper. It was of good quality, ink would neither blot on or seep through the pages. He didn’t even know if the young woman wrote a diary (he sure didn’t), but it was still a nice journal nonetheless, one that could be used for anything. It occurred to him that he should perhaps leave an inscription - some sort of short message, or a useful piece of advice. 

However, as he dipped his quill (made from the Phoenix feather she brought him) into ink and brought it down upon the first page of the journal, he found he… didn’t quite know just what he should write. 

“Shortcuts only ever lead to shortcomings,” felt too impersonal after everything that happened between the two of them. And whatever friendlier, more personal message he could write made him slightly cringe inside.The potions master sighed deeply, resting his head on his face. In his movement, he accidentally touched the tip of his quill over the page, making a small lone line. Damn it.

Well, he will be removing this page anyway, he might as well try if that paper truly was as good as it seemed.

And so Aesop made another line. And then another. And before he knew it, the lines began forming an image. An image of a bench in the Transfiguration courtyard, the one hidden in the shadow of the alcove by the water.

(F/N) loved to study there. She told him so herself, but he also recalled seeing the Ravenclaw there on his way to the staff room several times, tucked away in the corner, reading a book, watching the birds, occasionally observing whatever was going on in the courtyard itself. 

Aesop kept on scribbling, now fully immersed in both his creation, and his thoughts, and once he was absolutely certain there was no detail left for him to draw and pinpoint, no mistake he’d need to correct, he looked at his work. It was one of his better ones, at least in his opinion. He couldn’t wish for more, he supposed, not when he was drawing from memory. His long digits dragged over the paper, able to feel where the sharp tip of his quill dipped into the paper, leaving behind scratches and creases. His fingers were clean when he pulled them back and the drawing was unharmed as well.

As a last test, Aesop turned the page. The other side of it was as blank as could be, completely intact, uncreased, bearing absolutely no sign of his work. The professor actually allowed himself a content little grin. This was good paper.

Just as he prepared to separate the page from the journal however, Aesop looked upon his sketch once more. He could either spend another hour thinking up possible inscriptions before finally settling on something dry and boring, or… Or he could leave his drawing there in its place. No words, just this. For some reason, the potions master thought it spoke more than any words could.

—

Aesop took lungfuls of cool air, getting high on the feeling of sitting on a hippogriff's back and gliding through the cool night. His limbs were growing a little numb from the cold, and yet he held on, his arms wrapped around (F/N) (L/N)'s torso.

The potions master found himself resting his chin on her shoulder as he amazedly took in the beauty of Scottish highlands all wrapped up in the gentle darkness of the spring night.

When the mighty beast began descending to the lush grass of the Flying lawn once more, Aesop felt several emotions at once. He was a little glad to be rid of the wind nipping at his nose and ears, but that was overshadowed by a strange feeling of loss. He was greatly enjoying the flight, the thrill of it. Most of all though, he hated the idea that once they came to a stop, he'd have to release the girl from his hold and bid her goodnight. 

So when the inevitable came, he stole a few more moments, just a short couple of seconds during which he held her as tightly as if he would still fall hundreds of feet down was he to let go. And amazingly, the girl seemed to be in no rush to get off the hippogriff either. Finally he let her go and let her climb down, gladly accepting her help when it was time for him to do the same. He sent her off to her dormitory, knowing that was he to spend more time in her intoxicating presence under the heavy cloak of darkness he might… might do what exactly?

He was entirely not ready for her to squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his scarred cheek.

And when she did so, Aesop did not let go of her hand. No, he pulled her closer and captured her in a tight embrace. She didn't fight him at all, in fact, her arms immediately went to close around his waist, and her face pressed into the lapel of his overcoat. She's grown taller since he first met her, but he still towered over her. His nose buried in her hair, breathing in her shampoo, as the fingers of one of his hands tangled into the soft locks.

The potions master heard himself breathe heavily as he pressed the young woman into his chest, hyper aware of how absolutely he surrounded her smaller form, how warm she felt in his arms. 

He was grateful to her. She helped him forget the world, at least for a little while. Understanding. Accepting.

When he finally let her go, the Ravenclaw was smiling at him: “Are you quite certain you don’t want me to walk you to your rooms, sir?” Aesop wasn’t quite certain about nearly everything at the moment, everything except one thing: “Let us go then.” And just as she moved to his side with another smile, holding onto his arm and letting him lean against her, Aesop shivered, the cold of the spring air jerking him awake. 

He blindly pulled his blanket, which had pooled around his waist and left his upper body bare, higher. Its weight and warmth instantly reminded him of the dream he just woke up from.

That was rather… curious. 

Now, Aesop Sharp didn’t hug his students. He remembered the few times over the years during which he perhaps clasped a hand on the shoulder of a future Auror whom he’d given his recommendation, and then there were the handshakes with graduated students, but he never came into physical contact with a student otherwise. Until now. 

As he pondered the matter at hand, still gripping onto his blanket, the light coming from his sitting room got brighter and warmer. Aesop didn’t really think about all the touches he and the Ravenclaw shared over the previous year. All of them simply felt so… natural, from the first time he embraced her that cold night on the Astronomy tower, all the way to the time he guided her hand to cast the perfect Confringo.

Should it feel this natural? They were friends after all, as strange as that was too. Aesop was fond of the girl, and he doubted she’d seek his company as he seeked hers if she wasn’t fond of him as well. Maybe it was natural - after all, he shared amicable touches with Dinah as well, not to mention Abraham’s fondness of always having a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and back. 

It’s alright, Aesop decided. 

It was fine, they were friends, neither of them was uncomfortable, both enjoyed the closeness. 

The fact that it felt entirely different to have (F/N) touch him, he buried deep within the ground, and the subconscious feeling that Aesop knew exactly how different he felt, he buried even deeper.

—

“You’ve been spending quite a lot of time with that special Eagle of mine, Aesop,” said Dinah one time as she poured a generous amount of Firewhisky into two tumblers. The two teachers were sitting in her sizable chambers, both poring over stacks of essays to grade, sharing the ridiculous things some students wrote on their parchments, and occasionally discussing if certain parts deserve additional points. It was probably the most fun a Hogwarts professor could have on a Friday night without taking their clothes off. 

Well, not really. But it was absolutely more entertaining than grading essays by himself.

“Huh?” asked Aesop eloquently. He didn’t even know why exactly. He heard his friend perfectly. He could’ve easily answered something like ‘Yes, I’ve grown fond of her, I see her as my friend’, or maybe even ‘I’m just watching over her’, but the way his heart sped up when she stated her observation, and the way his chest closed up slightly made him choke on his words.

“Just that you invite her for tea quite often, you’ve never done so with a student. Are you preparing her for the Auror office?” “Heavens, no,” he replied, maybe way too quickly. Soon, the potions master cleared his throat. “I don’t… I don’t think she wants to be an Auror, Dinah. She could be one, certainly, she’s got the intellect and the skills, but I don’t think that’s the career path she’d want to take.” 

“Oh,” asked the DADA teacher, forgetting her work momentarily to peer at him curiously, her chin resting on her hand, “have you talked about career paths?” Aesop, swallowed, feeling like she could see right through him. What exactly she could see he didn’t know. “Among other things,” he sighed, “listen, I explained the situation in my letter, back in April. What she went through was nothing short of traumatising.” The woman gave him a short look of understanding, before pressing further: “She certainly seems to be doing much better than she was, no doubt thanks to your help as well. Your continuous help.”

“Maybe I have become appreciative of her company? She’s a rather pleasant conversation partner. And she doesn’t interrogate me, unlike some people,” Aesop replied, a little annoyance in his voice. That made Dinah grin widely: “Oh, I’m sorry Aesop,” she didn’t sound sorry at all, “I’m just curious, that’s all. No need for you to throw a hissy fit.” Aesop rolled his eyes.

“It is quite interesting, still. Young, pretty woman, and instead of breaking hearts, she spends a large part of her free time with her gruff potions professor. She must like you a lot.” Aesop didn’t even bother to answer, instead burying his nose further into his work. Positioned like this, he couldn’t see the tiniest hint of a smirk on professor Hecat’s face.

—

They were sitting on that frankly uncomfortable bench under the spiral stairwell to Ravenclaw tower again. It was different this time, however. The young lady was clearly a year older than she was when this actually happened. Seventeen, young and yet so mature. Her features were those of a woman. Her eyes were different too, instead of the grief filled wells he saw at this exact spot a year ago, they held the calmness of the Black lake, deep, dark, mysterious and alluring. And despite the fact it was obvious Aesop wasn’t currently in the middle of comforting her, his large hand still stayed on her back, drawing nonsensical patterns with his thumb.

“Why, sir?” she asked softly, her head leaning to the side with genuine curiosity. Aesop blinked in confusion: “Why what, (F/N)?” 

“Why do you still want me around?” 

Aesop knew he was dreaming, but he felt trapped in his body. It did everything on its own accord, moving, speaking… feeling. His free hand found hers on her own knee. “I… care about you. Is that not enough?” he heard himself say, his heart pounding. He had no control about what he said and did, merely an observant. The beautiful young woman leaned closer to him, her cheeks were pink, and there was a smile on her face, more radiant than any star Aesop’s ever seen. She squeezed his hand: “That’s everything, sir.”

Aesop rested his forehead against her own in a moment so intimate, it made his heart clench in his chest. Their breath mingled as they stared into each other’s eyes, the connection between them almost tangible. Aesop could feel the pulse in her wrist as he held onto her hand, could feel his own heart beating in the same rhythm. Within the little shared space between them, they weren’t a professor and his student, they weren’t a former Auror and a bearer of ancient magic. They were simply two kindred spirits, two bruised souls that were simply trying to keep up with the world around them while they healed. 

And when Aesop woke up, he did so with his chest constricted with emotion, and a deep sense of connection and belonging. He lay on his back in his bed, his hand over his heart as he breathed deeply. He began to grow quite worried about the rate in which the young Ravenclaw appeared inside of his dreams, not to mention their direction… 

There was no direction. There couldn’t be. Could it? 

— 

Aesop found himself looking forward to those evenings he would spend in the young woman’s company. Were they discussing matters of education, magic, and the wizarding society, or the more… personal topics. He simply felt comfortable with her, as comfortable as he rarely felt, even in the company of his two oldest friends. He told her of some of his cases - some dramatic, some terrifying, but also some positively humorous.

Like the one from his days as a very young Auror, straight out of training. An older man was hysterical because he believed he was being targeted by a dark wizard, who was an animagus taking on the appearance of a large, mean looking wolf, and was watching his house every single night menacingly. The 'victim' was so terrified, he hadn't left his home for days. As it turned out, the ‘dark wizard’ was a regular bloke whom the man cheated over in cards a week prior, but who held no grudge whatsoever, and the ‘terrifying, bloodthirsty beast’ was nothing more than a stray mutt that sat in front of the house because it could smell the man’s wife frying bacon every night. He couldn’t stop rolling his eyes back then, and his partner, well, she got herself a dog.

He couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat at the sound of her giggles when he told her this story, nor could he stop his eyes from falling down to focus on her lips, spread in a wide grin, white teeth sparkling in the low light of his sitting room. It was a spectacular moment, and he found himself thinking about it often. 

The potions master would also notice other things. 

Like the way she would clasp her hands together, neatly and elegantly, when speaking sometimes. The way she’d get comfortable in the chair she was sitting on, while still maintaining her decorum. How she lately began to toy with her hair, her nimble fingers running through it absentmindedly. The way her eyes blinked slowly at him, her eyelashes fanning against her cheeks, rosy as the fire in his hearth would warm her up. Occasionally, a single look into those brilliant eyes of hers would bring him a sense of peace, a calm before the storm almost, as nearly immediately he would feel emotions boil inside of him. 

Those he wouldn’t dare give a name to.

— 

It was almost the end of term when Aesop made the decision to climb the Astronomy tower yet again, and see for himself whether the young woman had been practising since their impromptu training session some half a year ago. Not to mention he wished to check up on the beasts she kept in those vivariums of hers (though, preferably, not the Graphorn one - he still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that). 

His leg was pretty cooperative that day, and by the time he finished his ascend, he was only in moderate pain, one that could easily be dulled by a vial of Wiggenweld potion, which he promptly pulled out of his coat pocket and drank in a single large gulp. He could see the door to the room clear as day, which most likely meant the Ravenclaw was already there and waiting for him. 

Aesop opened the door slowly and walked in. The first room appeared to be empty, only filled with the faint sounds of the various vivariums and the occasional flapping of books flying high above. It was so strange, he’s been to this room only a few times, and yet he always felt a sense of peace wash over him whenever he entered. Maybe it was the ambiance, which felt like a summer night spent under the stars, or the near silence itself, so very unlike the hustle and bustle of the castle, even during the evening hours.

“(F/N),” he called out.

“Down here, sir!” came from the large room to the left, the one that had all of her potion stations and planters, “I’ll be there in a jiffy, please, do sit down!”

Aesop didn’t sit down. He started walking toward the alcove, and proceeded down the stairs. Immediately, he spotted the young woman, standing by a simmering cauldron. He hobbled his way over to (F/N) and stopped right behind her, maybe a little bit closer than was appropriate. His nose instantly picked up the scent of her hair, sweet and sunkissed, as well as the potion she was just finishing up.

“Felix felicis? What on earth would you need that for?” Aesop asked, not sure whether to be suspicious of her reasons to brew such a potion, or amazed she appeared to have brewed a perfect batch all by herself. She didn’t appear to mind his close proximity behind her one bit, and actually even turned her head to grin up at him.

“I’d like to say it’s something particularly insane, like robbing Gringotts, befriending a manticore, or turning Headmaster Black into a toilet seat. The truth, however, is rather boring, to be honest.”

“Oh? How is that?”

“I want to ask my parents for a favour. That is, to let me go somewhere. I’ve only been allowed at Natty’s over last summer, but apparently, when her mum doesn’t have dozens of other students to worry about, she keeps quite a close eye on her, so, you know. No adventures.”

Aesop chuckled, seeing his breath fan the hair next to her ear slightly: “After everything, you still want an adventure?” He can see the young woman roll her eyes despite her having her back to him.

“I’m not saying I’m going to go to the Bermuda triangle and, I don’t know, battle whatever lurks there, I just don’t want to be stuck between four walls for the entire summer.” The potions master murmured under his breath in understanding. He still stood close behind her, an intrusive thought to touch her popping into his head unprompted and making his hand twitch. He ignored it.

“Gave any thought to where you’d like to go?”

“No. If this succeeds and my parents say yes, I’ll just spin the globe, close my eyes, and then travel anywhere my finger lands.”

“That does sound quite adventurous.”

—

What on earth was she still doing here? 

The young woman who took to occupying his dreams stood in the doorway of his classroom, dressed in a simple, muggle outfit consisting of a dark skirt that reached her ankles and accentuated the curve of her waist, a white blouse and a black cravat. It was very unusual to see her like this, as normally she only wore variations of the Ravenclaw uniform, and occasionally some combination of clothing items that she wore whenever she voyaged outside of the castle’s walls. 

She looked rather… She looked quite beautiful.

“Miss (L/N), perhaps you should make your way to the Hogsmeade station. You wouldn’t want to miss your train.”

“Oh, I’ll be there before you could say Tarantallegra, sir, but even if I didn’t, there are other ways to get to London. Apparition licence, remember?”

Aesop sighed, but could not hide the way the corner of his mouth twitched. “So,” he said softly, “what brings you here, when your classmates and friends are now all sitting in carriages to Hogsmeade, merrily chatting about their plans for the summer?

“Not all of them,” she replied, a little twinkle in her eyes that made him swallow unconsciously. “Just wanted to say goodbye and wish you a pleasant summer, sir, that’s all.”

Aesop walked to the closest potion station and leaned against it, putting his injured leg over the other and crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that so? And here I was, glad to be finally free of students for the following two months," Aesop offered her a small cheeky smile to let her know he was speaking in jest. "Do you have your liquid luck, Miss (L/N)?"

The Ravenclaw grinned and reached into a small leather bag that was hanging on her shoulder, soon pulling out a tiny vial with molten gold like liquid inside. Aesop pushed himself off the potions station to hobble over next to the girl, wordlessly taking the potion out of her hand to properly look at it. The colour and consistency looked good, and he knew the student standing in front of him was meticulous in her brewing, therefore he had no problems believing the potion would work as intended.

“I'd rather not ask how a sixth year student came upon Occamy eggs. Decent job, though, very decent. What about the rest of it?” He handed the vial back and the girl hid it again, patting her bag fondly. “It’s in the Room, individually bottled, ready if the need arises. You know how to access the room now, so if you ever find yourself needing a drop of good luck, feel free to take some, sir.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, miss, but I assure you that I am perfectly capable of brewing my own luck. What’s more, I think I needn't tell you that overusing such a powerful potion could have fatal consequences.” The potions master received a sincere smile in return: “You needn’t, sir, I would rather face the world equipped with my skills, experiences, and determination, rather than with just luck - a bit of fickle that.”

The two of them stood still for a few moments, the silence between them thick, but not really uncomfortable. Finally Aesop cleared his throat: “Well. While I clearly don’t have to wish you good luck in your pursuits of summer adventures, let me do so anyway. Good luck to you, and… please, stay safe.”

Another smile touched her face, this one positively radiant. “No need to worry, professor,” she said, her tone making shivers run down Aesop’s spine, “you’ll have me back before you know it, and in one piece.” The Ravenclaw then offered her hand for a handshake, and he, for some reason, instead of shaking it raised it up and bent his neck at the same time. His lips made contact with the skin of her knuckles and Aesop closed his eyes momentarily, letting the courteous kiss linger.

He did not dare move, or even open his eyes, when the hand in his gentle hold turned to touch his face, delicate fingers ghosting over his scarred cheek. His breathing picked up as he felt each digit trace his skin, weathered by years as well as stress, featherlight touches caressing each and every little wrinkle and line. And when her thumb teased at the edge of his mouth, the potions master released a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding, his eyes fluttering slightly.

So slowly, she stroked over his lips, thin and slightly chapped, and so unbelievably sensitive at that exact moment, it was like her touch caused tiny sparkles to go off just under the surface. And then, when that maddening thumb of hers trailed higher and stroked at his moustache, Aesop finally opened his eyes. The potions master’s hand was still loosely closed around her wrist, and he found her face to be rather closer than it was before. Her eyes, both seductive and innocent, caused his mind to cloud over, and all of his sensibility just went out of the window. In less than a second, both of his hands seized the sides of her head and he pulled her closer still. His large nose bumped into her own, their intense gazes connecting. He could feel her hot damp breath on his mouth on, on his cheeks, she was so close he smelled her perfume, utterly intoxicating,

And then, finally, he pushed his mouth against hers. It was a kiss filled with raw passion, heady and scorching hot, one that made Aesop's toes curl inside of his boots. He wasted no time, pushing his tongue into her mouth, swallowing all of her little sounds like they were the sole thing saving him from starving to death. He bit at her lips and tongue, before engaging it in a heated dance, all the while still holding her face, keeping her right there for him to taste.

Once he ran out of breath, he pulled back to look at her and now… now she was more than just beautiful, she was breathtaking. Her lips were red and swollen, ravished by him, and glistening with his saliva. To his utter amazement, they stretched into a little smile.

He tried to kiss her again.

But she was gone. 

He wasn’t standing in his classroom, but lying in his own bed, in his home, miles away from Hogwarts castle. Sun was pouring into his room through the open window, and the fresh air had a sweet undertone to it. And once Aesop closed his eyes again, he swore he could still feel those plush lips against his own, he could still feel her taste upon his tongue. He surely would’ve been panicked by the dream and what it could mean, had its lingering sensations not began lulling him back to sleep.

And when he woke up again, hours later, all that remained was a faint memory, one he could easily ignore.

—

Aesop Sharp spent his summer like he usually did. The summers were nearly always the same, the only thing that ever changed was the weather. The same old routine, just like during the term.

Except no, not really.

Not for the past few years at least. Not since (F/N) (L/N) began attending school.

However, even now, as he sat on the bench near his father’s memorial, Aesop felt quite content to simply pretend it was just another boring, uneventful summer, because the truth lurking about in his subconsciousness simply felt way too terrifying to face. 

No, no… It was just another dull summer. He’d gather his strength, enjoy the luxury of absolute silence and lack of students, and absolutely not think about the taste of the young Ravenclaw’s lips. 

Aesop thought that not seeing her almost every day would lower the rate in which she kept visiting him in his dreams. However, no such thing happened. Some were as innocent as they used to be, just the two of them, all alone, caught in their perfect little bubble of comfort and understanding, but more often than not, his dream self would do something to shake this bubble, tilt it, rotate it until it turned into something else, something Aesop dared not name.

He could feel his psyche cracking ever so slightly, as part of him knew he was lying to himself. And it was this part that currently made his finger run along the edge of her jaw, slightly smudging the coal on the paper. Her letters made it worse. They were always perfectly friendly, professional even, and yet Aesop found his heart beating fast each time Diana the sooty owl flew in through his perpetually open window, descending upon his dining table gracefully. 

She’s been treating him fairly well since he learned to read the letters immediately after she delivered them. She even let him stroke her under her beak for a few seconds once before she pecked him and flew back outside to rest in the coolness of the trees until he was ready to answer. 

He read the letters and re-read them, and took his time formulating the perfect answer to whatever they were talking about at the time, potions, NEWT subjects, careers… Aesop enjoyed it the most, when she wrote to him about the way she spent her days. He liked to imagine her lying down on a blanket in her garden, maybe in some light summer dress, snacking on strawberries and reading through her seventh year transfiguration textbook. Or sitting in Hyde park, feeding the various waterfowl and sunning. Or going to the theatre, wearing some lovely formal dress that wrapped around her like a glove…

Aesop saw these images she described in her letters right in front of him, and found himself unable to resist summoning his sketchbook and coal.

He also drew on his letters to her. That hare he saw in his garden from the dining room window. The basket of tomatoes given to him by his elderly neighbour. The tree where his father started building him a house, but could never finish… And each time she commented on his drawings, always in awe and amazement, he felt a swell of pride roll through him.

Each time the dark owl hooted at him in greetings, his heart began making somersaults, and his lips spread wide as he read (F/N)’s message, and yet, at the same time, he felt on edge. 

His dreams were to blame for that. Every morning he woke up after yet another dream with the young lady as their main star, the first thing Aesop felt was a pang of regret. Regret that the way she looked at him in his dreams was not real. That the way her body fit against his as she leaned into him was not real, and neither was the image of him being the one to accompany her to one of those theatres, her delicate hand upon his forearm. Soon after that, guilt followed. 

And still, Aesop Sharp wouldn’t admit his own emotions to himself.

—

Some fortnight left until the start of term, he got Diana’s attention after he finished securing his letter to her leg: “I’m leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow. So, you know, bring (F/N)’s next letter there and not here.” Aesop could have sworn that the menace of an owl rolled her eyes and looked at him as if she was saying ‘What, do you think I’m stupid?’ before flying away. Aesop just stood there, looking at the swiftly disappearing owl indignantly. Cheeky bloody pigeon. 

Although, Aesop had to give it to the owl - despite all of her attitude, she was most likely the quickest and most reliable owl he’s ever seen.

—

The young Ravenclaw was sitting by the hearth in his chambers, like she always did, lounging about. He was sitting right across from her, his bad leg propped up on a footstool, just a few inches from her knee. Aesop immediately noticed she seemed rather lost in thought, her beautiful eyes fixed upon the flames. “A knut for your thoughts?” the potions master offered, his own lips curling at the corners somewhat.

He didn’t expect her to extend her hand and place it on his leg, right above his ankle. Despite the thick leather boots he wore, Aesop could feel the warmth and gentleness of her touch, and when she began rubbing her thumb in circular motions, he released an involuntary sigh.

“I was just thinking how this will be my last year in Hogwarts. It’s a little unfair that everyone got to spend seven years with you, and I only three,” she said quietly. Aesop exhaled shakily, still feeling her hand on his leg, and it seemed to be trailing slightly higher, climbing up his shin.

“You’re not…” he swallowed, “you’re not going to spend four more years here, but that doesn't mean… It doesn't mean you can't spend time with me." The girl gave him a cryptic look: "And you wouldn't mind? You wouldn't mind still seeing me around, even though I'll not be your student?"

Aesop didn't notice that he opened his mouth and took a deep breath, still way too focused on her hand, now on his knee. 

"No, not in the slightest… I want you around," he said simply, the words feeling rather underwhelming as opposed to the storm of emotions raging within his core. And yet, he looked into her eyes, both sincere and incredibly enigmatic. His hand covered hers on his leg, and he linked their fingers together. 

The potions master was lost in thought all throughout breakfast at the Great hall, much to Dinah's intrigue. He told her his leg was acting up, and, as usual, she didn't believe his lie, but didn't ask any further questions. The large room was disturbingly quiet without the students, so quiet that he heard Mudiwa accidentally scrape her fork against her plate, all the way on the other side of the High table.

Matilda and Abraham were caught in a quiet conversation, which too sounded loud and clear within the empty hall.

"Should not take terribly long this year, between you and Mirabel, you should be done within two or three days."

"And then you shall send out the acceptance letters and lists, correct?"

"Yes. Decided to get the Muggleborns some extra time before Diagon Alley streets get too crowded, so as not to overwhelm them."

Ah, yes. In two or three days, the magical street in London will be busier than ever, packed with parents and students shopping for robes, quills, cauldrons, books and everything the young ones may need in Hogwarts - how come so many always turned up lacking these essential supplies was a mystery to Aesop.

Two or three days. In two or three days, (F/N) will also walk that street in preparation for her final year. The thought made his chest tighten, and he remembered his dream once more. He doubted that she would actually want to spend time with him after she's left. Would she? She already spent so much of her free time with him, why would it be so outlandish to hope that she'd still want his company then. 

Maybe he could write to her, meet her in Diagon alley, maybe he'd be able to speak more freely outside the castle's grounds. 

No. No, no. He was not going to meet her there. He knew he wouldn't be able to speak more freely even there, so why bother dragging himself and his lame leg all the way to London? He'd see her soon enough anyway, there really was no need for him to impose upon her during her last few free days of the summer break. He'd stay in the castle, get everything in order for the start of term, and watch for her arrival into the Great hall, along with everyone else.

His resolve lasted four days. On the fifth, he stood, leaning against his cane, in front of the entrance to Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron.

—

Aesop was at the Leaky Cauldron, his young companion talking excitedly beside him. She was telling him about her journey to Australia in great detail, and Aesop did his best to listen, as he was genuinely interested to hear what life was like for the wizards and witches down under. 

However, he found his attention wavering as his eyes fell upon her lips. Pink and soft and inviting. Would they taste as sweet as her voice sounded? Would they yield to him and accept his tongue between them? Would they release tiny gasps and sighs into his mouth? A leg bumped into his own below the table, a touch that could be explained as accidental, yet Aesop felt a shiver rolling down his spine. 

He didn’t even notice his own hand leaving his tumbler and going down, moving until he clearly felt some sort of soft, expensive fabric beneath his fingertips. “Professor?” the girl asked innocently, and it just occurred to Aesop that she hadn’t spoken for some time now. “I-...” he hurriedly took his hand away and looked into her brilliant eyes, “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

To his shock, the young woman smiled at him shyly, before grabbing his hand which had returned to his glass in the meantime. “It’s alright, sir… I don’t mind.”

She not only placed his hand back on her knee, she squeezed it as well. Aesop was in awe of how the situation changed. The pub was dark and quiet around them, and his face was so much closer to her own than it was minutes ago. “Miss (L/N),” he breathed, before both of his hands took a hold of her cheeks, and he finally succumbed to the undeniable allure, his sense and sanity slipping away from him. 

He didn’t think, he just took. He claimed her mouth, drank from her lips deeply and was delighted to find them pliant and welcoming. She tasted sweet, like the wine she’d been drinking, and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of madness, all from their passionate kiss.

Aesop had no idea just how or when they got into a room that looked suspiciously a lot like his own bedchamber, or when they both disrobed and stood nearly bare in front of each other. He could feel the softness of her bosom as it pressed against his own chest, as well as his own stiffness rubbing into her stomach. 

He saw his own hands, strong and so large compared to her own, seizing the fabric of her chemise, right in the middle of her chest, before ripping it open. It made a very satisfying sound. Once he released the ruined garment, it fell right down her body, licking over her curves like a wave, and Aesop found his hands following the movement, stroking her shoulders, her arms, travelling then to her ribs, waist, her hips.

His fingers dug into her love handles as he effortlessly moved with her towards the bed in the room. It was surreal, Aesop thought, it was as if the bed was the only important item in the room apart from the two of them. Everything else was somewhere in the background, blurry and dull and absolutely unnecessary. After he’s made her lie down, after he’s spread her for him, everything else just disappeared.

At that moment, it was just her, her and her young, divine body, her red cheeks and hooded eyes, her legs opened wide to accommodate his hips, her perfect soft breasts pouring gently to her sides with gravity. 

His fingers found her opening, hot, wet and quivering against his digits as he pushed them inside. Unbelievably welcoming. Aesop felt himself throb nearly painfully at the pleasurable promise, and he hurriedly pushed his pants down, freeing the strained erection. His slightly uneven teeth found one nipple and pinched it expertly as he lined up with her hungry entrance, making a shuddered sound leave those sweet lips of hers. 

With a single fluid motion, he buried himself within her soft depths, her loud gasp echoing through the room, which became nothing but a dark void of space, enveloping the two of them upon the bed like a comforting blanket, shrouding them in their intimacy, in their passion. She was so tight and warm, and Aesop groaned at the feeling of her velvety walls squeezing around him, coaxing him deeper, begging him to move. So he did, pulling out of her before plunging back in, making them both grunt at the explosion of sensations.

He sat up on his knees without separating their bodies, grabbing her hips quite roughly to impale her on his length again and again, watching where their bodies became one, where her soft, pink folds were taking him so well. He felt nearly ready to burst, the sight, the sounds she made ushering him to his brink faster than ever before, when…

Aesop woke up with a moan, surprised to find himself somewhere else entirely. He peered through the darkness of the room, soon identifying it as his bedroom at the faculty tower, his suitcases still unpacked and lying next to the heavy wooden wardrobe. His cock throbbed in his vice grip, aching with arousal, and Aesop let go of it in horror.

Merlin’s saggy left bollock!

This cannot be happening.

He was forty four years old, no hormonal teenager who wakes up with sticky bed sheets! There was the occasional morning arousal, yes, but nothing a little bit of willpower wouldn't fix, but now? Now he still felt like he was thrifty seconds from emptying himself into his sleeping trousers, despite not touching himself anymore. And the dream… Sweet Salazar…

He had a big problem on his hands. He masterfully ignored the gentle touches and tenderness between himself and the young Ravenclaw in his previous dreams, chalking them up to a close platonic fondness he felt for the girl. He even ignored the kisses he laid upon her sweet dreams, but now… Now it was impossible to lie to himself. What he felt for her was anything but platonic. His body ached for her, her touch, his prick still standing eagerly below the covers, begging for his attention.

He wouldn’t give it. It wasn’t right. She was still his student and he doubted she saw him as anything else than her teacher, an authority figure. He promised to himself to be there for her, to make sure she’s happy, not lust after her.

Aesop tried his best to will his erection down, but it just wouldn’t budge. It felt nearly painful at this point, hurting more than his leg currently, and he waged an inner battle with himself, stuck between desperately wanting his relief and apprehension towards stroking himself to completion to his mental image of the young woman.

With a heavy sigh, he got up and wrapped his dressing gown around himself. It’s been several minutes, and he was in the same state he woke up in. He made sure to tie the dressing gown loosely, so as not to draw attention to the sizable bulge in front in the unlikely case he would meet someone on his way to the Prefects’ bathroom. Cold shower it was. How he hated them, they always made the pain in his leg sear up. But there was no other choice. 

Damn that woman. She walked into his life, into his dreams, and it seemed she wasn't planning on leaving. She made him wake up with heated cheeks, and the ghost of her warmth against his body, and now also with the hot cloak of arousal clinging to him, unwilling to let him go from its sweet embrace. Aesop was lusting. He could no longer remember when was the last time he longed this much, was it years? A decade? Oh, Merlin…

He was in trouble.

—

“I would’ve thought you’d be quite exhausted after your classes today, so don't blame me for being baffled that you're still in the mood for an evening visit,” Aesop said, leaning against the doorframe of his chambers, fixing the Ravenclaw with a questioning look. She did look a little tired, but it didn’t dampen her genuine smile. “Actually,” she replied, “Since I didn’t sign up for NEWT level History of Magic and Divination, I don’t have classes until tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be able to sleep in for a bit.”

The girl fidgeted with the small canvas bag she was holding, and Aesop thought he saw her blush a little too, although he couldn't be certain.

“But, um… I can come some other time, sir, if you’re too tired.”

The potions master wasn’t exactly tired. In fact, his entire body was buzzing with nervous energy. And it was the dream he had the previous night he had to blame.

It was another of the lecherous ones, heady, lust filled dreams that left marks not only on his mind and heart, but most especially on his body. Since the first time he woke up with a raging erection following such a dream, there were a few times he was able to calm both his body and his mind down, and there were times he had to begrudgingly go and take a cold shower in order to school his treacherous length into obedience.

This one, though, this one was different.

-

Aesop didn’t recognise it as a dream. He was taking a dip in the Prefects’ bathroom tub, the warmth doing wonders for him. A blissed sigh left his mouth every few minutes as he let the hot water from one of the taps cascade down his neck, his shoulders and back, several strands of his hair sticking wetly to his face and forehead. He has long since thoroughly washed both his hair and body, and was now simply relaxing. 

He was always fond of water and enjoyed swimming often during the summer - until his leg turned what used to be a pleasant experience into one that was uncomfortable at best, and straight up painful at worst.

Warmth made the pain lessen somewhat, and so he didn’t hurt quite so bad in the pool-like tub’s hot water. Combined with a Wiggenweld potion beforehand, he was able to actually swim a few laps once every now and then, usually in the dead of night, when there was no chance some prefect or a colleague would want to use the bathroom as well.

And yet, Aesop flinched visibly, because a splash that wasn’t his own suddenly reverberated through the room. He tried to reach into his dressing gown for his wand, but quickly realised he wasn’t wearing his dressing gown. It was laid over the small cabinet at the very back of the room, his wand inside the pocket. When he was an Auror, he would’ve never let his guard down like this. However, he was a teacher now, working and living in what was to be one of the safest places in the country, so he felt like he could part from his wand for the one hour or so he was going to bathe.

And yet, here he was, wet, naked and vulnerable, his eyes searching for the source of the splash. They widened when a head suddenly emerged not seven feet away from him. 

“Miss (L/N)!” he spoke loudly once he recognised the Ravenclaw in all of her wet glory, “Would you kindly explain just what do you think you’re doing here? Firstly, it is very much after curfew, secondly, I know I locked the door after I entered, and thirdly, you have no business being here at all!”

Aesop felt hotness spreading over his cheeks as the young woman swam closer to him. Bubbles were lapping at her bare shoulders and collarbone. She was apparently as nude as he, and he struggled to keep his gaze from trying to penetrate the water and foam in search of her body. The Ravenclaw only smiled at him and swam even closer, stopping less than two feet away. 

He tried to back away, but she always followed, keeping the distance. His back made contact with the wall of the pool, and Aesop shortly considered climbing out, before he realised his state of undress once more, not to mention his starting arousal. “M-Miss (L/N)... (F/N),” he pleaded. What for, he didn’t know. The girl outstretched her arms and cornered him, hands grabbing onto the edge of the tub on each side of him. He was trapped.

Now, if he wanted, the former Auror could’ve very easily pushed the eighteen year old away. And yet, even as he felt her lower belly press softly against his now rock hard length, he stayed put exactly where he was, stuck between desire and restraint, with no idea what to do with his hands.

He shivered when he saw her kittenish grin, his heart pounding as she bent her head and licked a long stripe from his collarbone all the way up to his ear.

Next thing he knew, Aesop was sitting on the edge of the tub, pulling her out of the water and on top of him.

The tiled floor felt cold against his heated back, and the drag of his head on it felt quite uncomfortable, but the potions master couldn’t be bothered, not when he had (F/N) (L/N) bouncing up and down on his cock, her fingers digging into the furred skin on his chest and her breasts moving most enticingly in time with her hips. He bent his legs and braced his feet on the ground, soon meeting her thrusts with his own. He was grunting as he invaded the young body above him in a steady rhythm, the tips of his fingers sure to leave bruises on the flesh of her hips. Marked as his own.

Her pretty face all screwed up in pleasure drove him on. Aesop grabbed her hips even harder, keeping her in place while he pushed himself incredibly deep inside her, and began grinding his hips, angling her so that her swollen clit rubbed against his pubic hair with every move.

It soon became too much, her walls squeezing him, her tits jiggling with their movements, her moans and whimpers growing louder and mixing with the obscene slapping sounds of their intimate union. And then, when her back arched and a choked gasp cut through the thick, heady air like a bolt shot from a crossbow, Aesop knew he was done for.

The muscles in his stomach tensed as he felt the red-hot coil in his core thrum and burn brighter before snapping in an explosion of most primal carnal pleasure. The potions master groaned loudly, his hips shuddering as he pumped the young Ravenclaw full of his cum.

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, his orgasm making all of his nerve endings sizzle like electricity. 

“Hmm, professor…” the girl sighed, her voice dripping with gratification.

“D-don’t… don’t call me that. Not n-now.”

There was no answer, and when Aesop opened his eyes, he realised why. He wasn’t in the prefects’ bathroom, he wasn’t lying naked on the hard tiled floor, and his pretty little Ravenclaw (who actually wasn’t his at all) was most likely calmly sleeping up in her dorm room, blissfully unaware of her professor’s depravity.

He groaned once more when he realised what state he was in. 

His hand was down his pants, wet and sticky with his release, as was his entire front. He cringed when he pulled his hand away and the damp fabric of his underwear clung to his spent shaft. He reached towards the chair next to his bed with his clean hand until he felt the wood of his wand under his fingertips. His movement wasn’t as elegant as it would’ve been if he was using his right hand, but he still managed to perform the cleaning charm, vanishing the evidence of his pleasure from both his person and his clothes. 

He lay back into his bed heavily, releasing a long sigh. Bloody hell… This was getting ridiculous… His body behaved like it was fifteen (only at night, though, his back felt like he was sixty when he woke up in the morning), his unconscious brain was obsessed with the eighteen year old Ravenclaw, and now, whenever he went to the Prefects’ bathroom, he’d see in his mind’s eye the image of (F/N) riding him in wild abandon. Which will of course be plenty useful, when he goes there to cool himself off from another dream… 

Merlin… What would she think of him if she knew the extent of his emotions towards her? What would she think if she saw his longing, his lust? His… absolute pining… The professor closed his eyes with another sigh. Small traces of the dream’s gratification were still floating about in the cool air of his chambers, lulling his mind back into the depths of slumber. And as its arms began to wrap around him, Aesop could’ve sworn they were the arms of the beautiful student, enclosing him in her loving embrace.

—

It was no wonder Aesop was hesitant to accept her into his chambers that evening. It was different when they were in his office; there he was the professor still, at least a part of him was. The door was always open, there were students going in and out of his classroom to work on their potions. 

Here, in his private rooms, though? Here the pretence of being merely a teacher and a student was dropped. Here, they were… friends. Here, in the still and quiet, they were just two people who found an understanding for one another’s situation.. The only thing that reminded them of their titles was just that - their titles. Aesop’s tongue slipped every now and then and he called the young woman by her first name, but otherwise they addressed each other as ‘Miss (L/N)’ and ‘Professor Sharp’ or ‘Sir’.

There were countless times Aesop wanted to offer her the first name basis when it was just the two of them, but then he always forgot to bring it up. And then later, when his heart started aching for her, when his dreams tipped from plain affection and comfort into an inferno of pining, of love and lust… he decided it was for the best that she only addressed him as she always did. He didn’t think he could handle knowing how his first name sounded from her lips. And he was certain his treacherous resting brain would take to torturing him even more than it has before… No, best to stay as professional as he could. Keep their meetings to his office, keep their tones light, keep their last names…

And yet, as she stood outside his door, the tiniest flick of sadness in her eyes at the prospect of being refused by him, Aesop found that he physically couldn’t. The very idea of telling her to go back to her common room and only seek him out in his office made his stomach close up.

Aesop wanted her right here. He wanted to sit down with her and have a cup of tea, discuss how her NEWT classes were treating her, and which students were the bane of his existence this year. He wanted to say some dry ironic retort, because he knew they made her grin, and he wanted her smile to shift into that of excitement and happiness as she talked about all of her wonderful beasts in the Room of Requirement.

All of this and so much more was what made him open the door wider, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a smile that was only for her.

“I suppose I can spare a few moments. I just hope you’ve got something good in that bag.”

“Cauldron cakes and Butterbeers, sir.”

“Well in that case, come on in!”

—-

It was a cold night, and salty air was blowing into Aesop’s face, biting at his smooth cheeks. His eyes scanned the dark harbour until they fell upon the ship he was looking for; St Joan. He swallowed heavily - their culprit was all on his own, yet the Auror still felt adrenaline begin to pump through his bloodstream. They’ve been chasing him for weeks, and it was now or never.

“Lead the way, Ace,” Ashley said next to him, her wand drawn.

Aesop drew his own wand and the pair began walking towards the ship.

And then all hell broke loose.

A downpour began, people were shouting, curses were flying through the air and the two Aurors did their best to dodge and deflect them. They were back to back, perfectly synchronised in their movements, they covered each other. Ashley used Accio on a pair of wizards to her left, bringing them into Aesop’s field of view just in time for him to send a well aimed Diffindo their way, the spell hitting their chests and throwing them to the ground head first, promptly rendering the bleeding men unconscious.

For a while, Aesop was sure that they would emerge victorious from this heated battle, the adversaries were dropping to the ground left and right and they weren’t getting back up. In his sureness that the situation was under control, he left Ashley’s side, intent on capturing their big fish before he could slither away once more. Only, as he triumphantly glared at the middle aged Irishman, he noticed the smuggler boss looking back at him in a smug and completely unafraid manner.

“Aesop!” Ashley screamed, panic evident in her deep voice. He turned around and paled. Where he previously left his partner battling no more than three criminals, now stood more than a dozen men and women in dark clothes, and all of them had their wands drawn at Ashley, preparing to cast their curses at the woman, and Aesop heard more popping sounds, announcing the arrival of even more. With one last look at Aengus fucking O'Brien, who was in the middle of disapparating back to safety, he began to run towards his partner.

They failed. Not only did they not manage to capture the bloody bastard, their what was supposed to be an easy job just turned into a literal fight for their lives. 

He and Ashely did their best to defend themselves, but despite their skill, they were just too severely outnumbered. Aesop felt a sick feeling in his chest - they might not ever leave here alive.

He saw one of the meaner looking wizards to his left ready his wand, a strange dark smoke like magic swirling at its tip as he prepared to cast on the Auror. Green jets of light began to fly around them.

At that moment, Aesop just knew. He knew that Ashley wouldn't survive the night. He knew he’d forever be crippled once the curse found its target on his body. He knew, because this already happened, and he witnessed it happen dozens upon dozens of times. And he was to witness it once more.

“Professor!”

Aesop flinched. That voice… He looked for its source and saw her, standing some fifty feet away from him. His heart dropped.

No… No, no, no, she cannot be here. If she stays here, they’re going to hit her, she’s going to die! Please no. I can’t lose her too!

Aesop wanted to run towards the young Ravenclaw, he wanted to use his own body to protect her from whatever curse the bastards would cast on her, but his legs didn’t move a single inch.The Auror was rooted to the spot. He didn’t care that it made no sense for her to be here, nor the fact she seemed to deflect the golden snitch sized raindrops that were steadily falling from the sky, that wasn’t important. What was important was that she had to leave before she got hurt, before she got killed. And yet his legs still felt like lead and he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t even scream - Oh Merlin! No!

In a blink of an eye, she stood in front of him, her face a mask of peace and serenity, even as chaos of the battle still raged behind her, as screams and explosions pierced the air around them. None of the spells fired at Aesop found their mark, it was like he wasn’t even there, like he was naught but thin air. 

The young woman raised her right hand, her soft digits tracing over his scar with utmost gentleness. Wait a minute… Aesop wasn’t hit yet, how did he have a scar? 

“Professor Sharp?” She spoke again, and, with another blink of his eyes, he was no longer getting drenched by the rain in a harbour in Scarborough, he wasn’t being fired hexes and curses at, and his partner wasn’t fighting for her life to his left. The cacophony of battle was replaced by the gentle crackling of fire, the sound of his own wildly beating heart the loudest sound in the room. His room. In Hogwarts… He wasn’t an Auror anymore, he taught potions. 

His thoughts, confused and scattered, were interrupted by another gentle touch to his scarred cheek. He took a deep breath and looked around - he was in his room, sitting on an unfamiliar sofa in front of the hearth, the fire being the brightest light source in the otherwise dim room. The young Ravenclaw was sitting next to him, looking at him with a concerned expression. The flames were dancing upon the pristine skin of her tender face, their glow reflected in her brilliant eyes. Aesop felt his heartbeat slow and even out at the sight of her - safe and sound, right next to him. “Are you alright, sir?” she asked once more, her hand warm over his scar, unwavering in its gentleness, even as a tear rolling out of his eye dampened it.

“Yes… Yes, it’s alright, (F/N).”

She scooched closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, her body against his side warmer than the flames in front of him. He lost Ashley years ago, he didn’t know how he’d fare if he lost the girl next to him too. He wouldn’t be able to go on. Aesop allowed himself to rest his own head against hers and close his eyes, breathing in deeply.

Aesop slept until morning. 

—

It was early afternoon when he decided to sketch for a while - it’s been some time since he’s last held a charcoal in his hand, but today he felt like he genuinely needed it. His leg was feeling up to the task that day, and so the potions master climbed all the way into his little atelier, hobbling towards the drawing desk and plopping down onto the chair in front of it. He gripped the charcoal and expertly dragged it over the parchment in front of him, letting his thoughts wander freely as he drew.

While the Hogwarts owlery began to slowly but surely materialise out of his strokes, he thought of his dream the previous night. It began like it always did, with him having no idea he was dreaming, no idea he was going to watch the worst moment of his life unfold all over again. Except tonight… Tonight he was spared. He was spared the panic and the pain, both physical and emotional, as the young woman entered his dream and saved him from it, with a handful of words and a single touch.

He was grateful, of course, though he didn’t know to what exactly. To (F/N) who was probably spending the Saturday afternoon with her friends, blissfully unaware of Aesop’s night terrors? To his own mind, who finally managed to find a way to spare him? To his heart, which he felt was starting to beat for the Ravenclaw more and more? His heart…

Aesop remembered the terror he felt when he saw (F/N) in that harbour, fear so horrible it still sent a shiver down his spine even now. The possibility of losing her made his chest feel tight, his lungs not getting enough oxygen, his heart not having enough space to beat. Her presence in his life was not only wanted, it was needed.

Aesop dragged a clear piece of parchment in front of himself to suppress the pang that rolled through him then.

She was in her seventh year. In nine months, she’s going to board the Hogwarts Express and leave, and Aesop very much doubted she’d start coming over on a weekly basis to come see him… And even if she did come to see him occasionally, she’d soon meet new people in her adult life, people who’d be close to her, both in distance and in age. He was going to lose her.

Aesop folded his coal stained hands in his lap, rubbing them together slowly as he observed his portrait of (F/N) (L/N), looking at him from the parchment, her eyes smouldering and scorching him.

—

He was reclining on the leather sofa in his room, reading something but not actually making anything out. The ‘words’ swam in front of his eyes, the scrawls and scribbles absolutely unresembling any language Aesop knew. That’s how he realised he was dreaming again. He wasn’t sure which was better, thinking that what he was experiencing was the reality, or knowing his slumbering mind was forming mental images for him to witness while his body regained its strength. Torturing him and taunting him with what he could never have. He closed the book, its cover and weight reminding him of his copy of A Study in Scarlet, and placed it next to him on the sofa.

He could hear the door to his chambers open, as he expected it would, and soon quiet footsteps reached his ears too. There she was again. Soon she stood right in front of him, in her casual uniform, though her tie or the Ravenclaw crest that usually adorned her pristine white shirt were nowhere to be found. In fact, if one didn’t know she was a Hogwarts student, they could easily think her simply a young woman in a shirt and a skirt, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows in a laid back manner. For some reason, it comforted Aesop.

As if sensing his thoughts, she clicked her tongue and looked at him as if he just told her the silliest thing in the world. She shook her head then and stepped closer to him. Aesop’s heart was racing, and he was caught between wanting to bolt, to hobble away as fast as he could to the nearest Floo flame, and wanting to grab onto any part of her that was closest, any part he could reach, and pull her closer, pull her atop him and hold her and not let go. He could - he was dreaming after all. However, he stayed put, not moving a single muscle.

The sofa dipped beside him as she sat down, immediately curling into him and resting her head on his lap, facing him. Aesop watched with hooded eyes as she made herself comfortable, sighing as she settled. He heard that sound often, whenever she took a first sip of her tea, a mix of good quality tea leaves with dried cornflowers he learned she loved, and made sure to always have it on hand. Her eyes caught his own, the look inside them making his poor heart skip a beat, before resuming its hurried pace.

Such was the power of that simple look. It was filled with warmth, with fondness, and there was a smile on her face, a happy and content one. He wished he could see that look every single day, even if it wasn’t caused by or directed at him. In his dream, though, the smile was for him, and only him, and Aesop bent in the waist, leaning over her and resting his head on his hand, his elbow placed next to her head. 

His heart throbbed. It ached. He knew he was dreaming, but everything felt so real. The flowery scent of her perfume, the warmth of her breath fanning against his cheeks, her soft palms coming to stroke his face and wipe at the tear that rolled out of his eye. His mind truly was intent on torturing him, he thought as he succumbed to the allure, as he decided to use the chance to hold her when he had it, dream or not. 

He gathered the young woman into his arms, pulling her higher until her face was pressed into the side of his neck and he could bury his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply the scent he only ever caught a whiff of from time to time when he moved behind her in his class. After a few minutes during which he only snuggled her close, nosing at her hair, her ear, her cheekbones, he pulled her back to look into her eyes.

Her smile was honest, genuine, yet incredibly enigmatic. Like a Mona Lisa in the flesh. She wasn’t actually there, and none of this was real…

“Oh, sweet Merlin, (F/N).”

He said only as he chased her soft lips in a kiss. It wasn’t real, but it was as good as he was going to get.

—

When Aesop found himself in bed with the young Ravenclaw, he knew it was a dream. He would’ve remembered every single tiny little detail of how he got there, he just knew he would. 

Therefore, when he saw her right there, he didn’t waste any time asking pointless questions. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her securely and even threw his leg over her own, effectively trapping her in his embrace. He could make out her face in the dimness of the room, saw her eyes glisten ever so slightly, saw her lips stretch in a smile, her face inches away from his own. She felt so real, Aesop felt her warmth, her softness, her breath against his cheek and nose, he could smell her perfume and the rose scented soap she used. 

He couldn’t stop the corners of his own mouth from turning up, as his right hand came to push a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his calloused finger trailing against the silky smooth apple of her cheek. 

“What am I going to do when you’re not here anymore?” he asked softly, more to himself than anything else. And yet, the girl in his arms tilted her head somewhat at the question. “When I’m not here anymore?” she smiled again, “Sir, it’s not like I’m about to disappear off the face of the planet… I’m just graduating later this year.” Despite the storm of emotions inside his heart, Aesop chuckled: “Not off the face of the planet, no, but… I can’t delude myself into thinking that you’ll still be a part of my life after you leave… That I’ll be a part of yours. And even if I was… it wouldn’t be in the way I long for..”

Her hand came to stroke at his cheek again, the gesture now so familiar. Only in his dreams, sadly. The potions master leaned into it, his eyes closing on their own accord at the tender touch.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Aesop released a long sigh, his arms closing around his dreamy bedmate as if he wanted to will her into reality. 

“I want you in my life more than I’ve ever wanted anything before… If I’m being perfectly honest, if I had… If I had to choose between you and the cure for my leg, I’d hobble my way to you without looking back, but… That would be incredibly selfish of me. You deserve so much more. So much better… Even in the unlikely scenario that you’d ever love me back.”

Aesop finished with an unhappy chuckle, his chest feeling tight and heavy with emotion. Her fingers were combing through his hair, the intimate touch bringing a sense of peace to his throbbing heart. She pulled at it lightly, enough to make him raise his head, but not enough to hurt, and once his gaze connected with hers once more, she closed the distance between them, searching for his mouth in the still and quiet. 

And as she pulled him atop her, their lips melding together, Aesop knew he would never be the same.

He woke up in a tangle of sheets and blankets.

—

The day was frankly horrible, and the worst part of it was ironically the best one as well. The whole ‘love letters fiasco’ left him drained physically and emotionally, and as he tried to breathe through another painful cramp of his fucking leg, he cursed himself for having been so foolish. 

It was over. Done. Finished. 

(F/N) would read Sebastian Sallow's letter and she’d return his feelings, because she was obviously fond of the boy. Because he was an obvious choice from day one, the most logical one. She’ll be with the young Slytherin and she’ll be happy, and while her being happy was exactly what Aesop wanted, he felt his stomach lurching at the thought of them together. A pang of guilt and shame soon followed, and the potions master felt his leg beginning to cramp up once more.

It was a hellish pain, much, much worse than what he usually had to suffer through, worse than what he experienced after he woke up from his night terrors. 

Aesop tried to breathe through it, his brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut, droplets of sweat forming at his hairline. He gripped the armrests of his seat so hard, his knuckles had gone white, and when a knock came on his door, it took him several seconds to even school his teeth into unclenching so that he could answer. He knew who it was, how could he bloody not. 

His voice was unsteady when he called out: “G-go away!”

Of course, she didn’t. She opened the door to his chambers (how come it was unlocked?) and came straight in.

“Miss (L/N), if our friendship means anything to you, you’ll get the hell out of my rooms and forget you ever saw me like this!” he cried out, curling in on himself as a particularly strong wave of pain rolled through him, forcing tears into his eyes. He blinked quickly, trying to stop them from spilling over. The young woman came closer, kneeled before him. Aesop would’ve inquired as to what she thought she was doing, if he wasn’t in the middle of choking back a whimper. 

There was sudden warmth against his leg and Aesop looked up to see what was going on. She held her wand to his left lower thigh, above his knee, obviously having applied a heating charm to the fabric. Her hands, so much smaller than his own, began massaging the poor limb tentatively, and several minutes later, Aesop actually felt the pain lessening. The relief made his tears finally roll over his eyelids and fall down his cheeks.

She carried on with her slow deliberate movements for a while before standing up again and taking a hold of his face. The touch was so familiar from his dreams, yet so foreign in reality. Aesop opened his tears filled eyes and looked up at the young woman. He no doubt looked absolutely miserable, he didn’t want to see the pity and repulsion with him within her eyes. 

Except there was none. 

When the professor looked into (F/N) (L/N)’s eyes, all he saw was worry. Care. Love. Her own tears were glistening just past her eyelids as she used her fingers to wipe away his. He gasped quietly when she brought his head to rest against her chest, his nose against her collarbone. She made gentle shushing noises, her fingers stroking his hair, her body moving in a slow rocking motion. What she said next had him wrapping his arms around her, his tears starting anew.

“Did you really think I’d just leave you alone with this? After everything? You’re such a clever man, sir, but sometimes you have the silliest thoughts.”

He quietly sobbed into the fabric of her pristine white shirt, his tears seeping into the soft material. Aesop felt her pressing kisses into his hair as she let him weep, her own chest shuddering with every exhale as she held him close to her, as if she wanted to give him her own strength. 

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Aesop didn’t know. He didn’t care. Even after his tears went dry, even after the girl stopped trembling, they stayed in their embrace, hearts bared, souls reaching out to tangle with each other. Aesop didn’t want her to leave, he didn’t want her to stop holding him, didn’t want her to stop kissing the crown of his head. However, they both knew that sleep was something they both desperately needed now.

“It’s very late, sir,” (F/N) said, her voice no more than a whisper, one that fanned through his hair, and caressed his haunted soul. Her gentle hands grabbed his face again and he was made to look at her once more. Aesop wanted to tell her right then and there, he wanted to tell her that she held his heart in her hands the same way she held his cheek, but not a single sound left his lips as their gazes met. “Come,” she said as she helped him to his feet. 

Aesop didn’t know how she did it, but she managed to get him to his bedroom, and sit him on his bed, while making sure he put almost no weight on his bad leg. It would seem she found just as much comfort in touching his face as he, because she was holding it yet again. Or maybe she was just making sure she had his attention.

“Are you going to be alright? Should I fetch you anything?” 

Aesop cleared his throat. It was sore from crying, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke: “The chest - at the foot of the bed…”

The young woman opened it and took out two vials of Wiggenweld potion, as well as a bottle of the light lavender concoction he introduced to her in her fifth year. Dreamless Sleep. She placed all potions next to him upon the bed and gave him a long look.

“I will be alright. I promise,” Aesop said sincerely after he gulped down the Wiggenwelds. The girl stared at him for a minute longer before nodding her head: “Alright…”

She then did something that took his breath away all over again.

She leaned down and placed her lips on his forehead, right above his eyebrows. It was an action so daring and yet so innocent, it stunned Aesop into absolute silence, and he even forgot to breathe for a few seconds. He wanted to ask her to stay, he wanted to hold her like he held her in his dreams. Instead, he squeezed her hand momentarily, enjoying its softness and warmth, before letting go of her. Before letting her go.

“Sleep well, (F/N).”

—

Her dream form stood right next to him, her hair blowing in the gentle breeze, eyes sparkling in the brilliant sunlight. She looked different, so very different than he usually saw her. She was dressed in a lightweight white gown, the look on her face ethereal.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with a little grin.

“Because you are beautiful.” 

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she teased then, and Aesop looked down to see he wasn’t wearing his usual ensemble. He was garbed in his best dress robes, with cufflinks that used to be his father’s. He looked at the young woman confusedly, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Are you… are you getting married?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“We are. Come on, everyone’s waiting for us!”

Aesop never had a dream about marrying anyone, not even those nearly two decades ago when he was certain he was going to marry Dinah one day. 

Now however, he knew he was going to treasure this particular dream till his dying breath. No matter what happens, at least he got to have this dream, and that is something nobody will take away from him.

—

As the days got shorter and nights became longer with the upcoming winter, Aesop Sharp became rather… desperate.The first snowflakes descended upon the castle’s roofs and grounds, covering the piles of fallen brown leaves with a fine dusting of snow, reminding Aesop of a Christmas pudding dusted with powdered sugar. The cold that accompanied the coming season did absolutely nothing for his leg, and he found himself applying a heating charm to his trousers with increasing frequency in an attempt to keep his leg warm. If he could avoid going outside, he did. 

The weather however, was not the cause of his desperation. It was the rate in which the young Ravenclaw appeared in his dreams, torturing him with her sweet smiles and sweeter kisses, mocking him with her tender touches and teasing him with her loud beating heart. In his dreams, it sounded as if it was beating for him.

She, of course, did not actually mock him, no, but it felt like mockery every time Aesop awoke alone in his bedchamber, all alone, cold and longing. She was not at fault, though, his own, self-destructive brain was the real culprit. It was as if his nightmares weren’t traumatic enough, weren’t taking enough out of him, resulting in grief over things he lost. So, instead, they became dreams of something he would never have, stabbing into his heart with every kiss the young woman bestowed upon his willing mouth, every long intense look she gave him, every passionate moan she released, every delicious touch. Nearly every. Single. Night.

Every time she then actually came to meet him, Aesop thought about telling her that they can’t see each other anymore, that she cannot keep coming back into his chambers. He thought about how he’d reason his words, other than the truth.

Because he couldn’t exactly say: ‘Miss (L/N), we have to stop being friends, because every time you and I are alone, I feel like I am exactly ten seconds away from dragging you out of that armchair and into my own lap in order to push my mouth against your own with such intensity, you’ll be seeing stars by the time I’m done,’ could he?

And then he opened the door and she stood there, smiling up at him like she was looking forward to this moment the entire day, and Aesop’s heart leaped up into his throat and skipped a beat. He found himself smiling back and opening the door for her. He knew he could never ask her to keep her distance. He was getting high on her very presence, and was now desperately addicted to it. And the most insane thing - he always managed to control himself. He was a good conversational partner, and a good host in his chambers, preparing her tea less than twenty seconds after she entered, just as she carefully portioned out the house elves baked goods she brought for them to share this time.

Whenever she was around, he found himself breathing a bit easier, smiling slightly more, he even joked around every now and then, delighting in every wonderful little laughter she rewarded him with, feeling like a healing balm to his weary soul. And the touching… Goodness, the small touches they shared, the way she not only allowed him to hold her hand sometimes, but turned it in his grasp so that she could hold him back, the way her delicate fingers fit against his own calloused ones, the way her thumb stroked tenderly over the back of his hand.

It was an exquisite kind of torture, and Aesop no longer knew whether he wanted it to finally stop, or whether he craved more. She was unknowingly destroying him, and Aesop, like the mad old man he was, was loving it. 

“So… do tell, where are you headed for the holidays this year,” he asked one such evening, her small hand in his own, the flames in his fireplace licking up their skin, making him even warmer than he already felt just from her presence. 

“Nowhere, sir,” she replied quietly, not wanting to spoil the nearly intimate atmosphere they had at that moment, “We used to go to the mountains for Christmas, me and my parents, but well… not anymore. It’s a shame, really - even they used to be quite happy whenever we went to this nice hotel in Switzerland, near the Giessbach falls. They even allowed me to learn to ski. However, my mother slipped on some ice there some years ago, and hurt her leg. So… we don’t go there anymore. And seeing as all of my friends already have their own programme, well, I decide to just stay here. With all the work for my NEWTs this year, I’m sure I won’t be bored at all.”

Aesop listened to every word she spoke with interest, resting his head on his free hand, all the while caressing her own with the other one. “I too will be spending the holidays here. So, you know… if you ever feel like taking a break from your studies… you are always welcome here.” His heart was thumping with anxiety as he awaited her answer with a bated breath.

“Thank you, sir, that sounds lovely. Although… I may bring my work with me,” she said finally with a soft smile playing on her face, one Aesop once more found himself unable to not reciprocate: “That’s completely alright with me, (F/N). I too have some work I will be biting through during the holidays, so we might as well offer each other the comfort of company while we focus on our responsibilities.” The potions master felt like he was playing with fire, and was honestly surprised it didn’t come to bite him just yet. Even now, his answer was a toothy smile and a squeeze of her hand. 

“Sounds like a good Christmas to me.”

—

(F/N) was making such lovely sounds where she was lying underneath him, spread upon the crimson duvet of his bed. With every move of his hips, he drove himself deeper into her young body, his hip bones grinding against her own both deliciously and nearly painfully. Aesop held onto her side with one hand, keeping her in place so he could deliver a hard thrust after thrust, while his other hand was pawing at her left breast, squeezing and massaging the plush flesh in his hand, stroking his fingers over the hardened nub. His mouth was at the other tit, licking and suckling, intent on bringing the young woman as much pleasure as he possibly could.

He then sucked a visible mark to the skin just above the now swollen and raw red nipple, leaving an imprint of his uneven teeth behind. The potions master observed his work proudly, drinking up the Ravenclaw’s heady expression, the way her beautiful eyes disappeared behind her eyelids, rolling into the back of her head as he fucked her into his mattress, his cock stretching her open, bringing her closer and closer to that sweet abyss of primal pleasure. 

He felt her hand in his hair, pulling, tugging harshly, and released a low moan of his own, the sensations driving him wild, making him increase his pace. He felt her skin glide against his own, their bodies damp with sweat from their efforts, Aesop felt it coldly clinging to his chest hair, saw it glisten upon her once pristine skin, now bearing his marks, his claim. Bruises from where his fingers squeezed her hips and imprints of his teeth. She looked ruined, mad with lust and pleasure, flushed with unfocused eyes.

“So bloody beautiful,” he groaned, releasing her abused breast to grab her face, forcing her to look at him. “So lovely, my darling (F/N). So fucking perfect for me, taking me so well,” he lowered himself to press a filthy, open-mouthed kiss onto her pliant lips. “Hmm… My sweet, my precious…”

The girl’s moaning got louder, and she started to shudder against him, her legs trapping him between them as she started to grind her hips in time with him, her walls beginning to squeeze his weeping prick, prompting him to groan once more. 

And then, just as he saw her finally reach her peak, roll over that edge of ecstasy, she looked right into his eyes, her own so heavily dilated and unfocused, he was half certain she could barely see him, tears of pleasure sparkling just behind her eyelids: “I-I love you, sir.”

Aesop woke up with a start.

He was in his bed, aroused beyond belief, throbbing hard and feeling precome ooze out of his glans. He groaned when another throb to his cock made the material of his pants rub against the poor shaft. He was too far gone by now. The potions master threw the covers away from his feverish body, wiggled out of his pants and quickly grabbed at his cock, tugging at it harshly, playing the words out in his head again, and again. The wet slapping of his hand moving along the hot flesh penetrated the otherwise silent room, and his groans soon joined it. He thought about the young woman, of her words, of her body, her face, imagining himself fucking her tight little cunt until she couldn’t walk the next day.

“F-fuck, fuck!”

He flipped onto his belly, still holding his cock in a vice grip, and began pistoning his hips, concentrating on his fantasy hard. In it, he wasn’t just fucking wildly into his own hand, ruining his bedsheets with precome, he was taking that young woman who came into his life like a hurricane. 

‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’ 

It were these words that made his climax approach closer and closer, intense and world-shattering. In his wild abandon, he grabbed one of the large pillows on his bed and pushed it under his hips, gripping his cock then with both hands to increase the sensations. He bent his legs at the knees to be able to thrust into his hands with greater force, each one making him near his finish.

‘I love you.’

Aesop groaned pitifully, his saliva soaking into the pillow as his lungs burned with every ragged breath, as his muscles ached with the strange position, as his prick throbbed painfully, so fucking desperate for its release, growing even larger, even harder.

‘I love you.’

“Ah, fuck! Oh, (F/N), fuck! Hnngh!”

Aesop’s body spasmed, his toes curled, and he buried his head deeper into the pillow as he finally, finally, reached the peak of his pleasure.

His cock twitched heavily with every large spurt of spunk it shot out, soiling his hands and the pillow, even his shirt, making a fucking mess of his front, but Aesop didn’t care. His mind was entirely clouded by the divine pleasure and the picture of (F/N), by her words of love. It was an intense orgasm that left Aesop trembling slightly even a minute after the last drop of cum wept out of his softening prick.

The potions master was breathing hard, his mouth and chin wet with his own saliva that made a damp circle on the pillow. Of course, that was nothing compared to the ungodly, foul mess he left lower. Soon, the wet stickiness of his own spent made Aesop roll onto his back with a groan. 

Merlin’s fucking beard.

He was completely depraved, wasn’t he?

Hell, he couldn’t remember ever wanking with such a wild abandon, even when he was the age when it could be excused, blamed on teenage hormones.

He lay there on his back, his seed drying up on both the pillow and his skin, his hands, making the potions master crinkle his nose in disgust. 

“Fuuuck,” he groaned again, his voice hoarse as he finally reached for his wand to cast the cleaning spell on himself. He lay there still, his body and sheets once more clean, but the heady aroma of his own arousal still lingered in the air, the relief and muscle relaxation his orgasm brought him made him almost not feel his blasted leg at all. He wanted to curse himself, but his head felt so heavy and his mind so cloudy, he really couldn’t, not now at least.

Aesop closed his eyes.

‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’ still reverberated through his head, but this time he didn’t see the young woman underneath him, caught in the throes of passion. Instead, she was on top of him, resting upon his strong chest, her head lying on her folded arms as she gazed at him through her eyelashes, teasingly hiding her smile. He saw his hand coming to gently caress her hair, pushing it off her face. “I love you,” she’d say, quietly, yet sincerely. 

“I love you,” Aesop replied into the still and quiet around him, sleep taking him once more.

—

Aesop looked around the Great Hall. It looked so very empty, with the majority of students having gone home for the holidays, and only a few remaining. The Ravenclaw table was nearly vacant, and the few students there were sitting in a single group, close to the High table, among them Mr Thakkar and, of course, (F/N) (L/N), who were currently caught in a conversation. Aesop was watching them covertly, but while the starry-eyed Amit did make the googly eyes at the young woman, he kept a respectful distance.

Good.

Aesop’s selfish side whispered, and he narrowed his eyes somewhat at the young man.

“I certainly hope one of my best Eagle’s has not done anything to upset you, Aesop,” said Dinah dryly, blowing at her tea before taking a small sip. Aesop grumbled and stabbed a mushroom onto his fork with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. That got his friend’s attention: “What is it, dear? Aren’t you looking forward to some peace and quiet after the difficult few months? I don’t remember the school being this empty for Christmas in at least five years.”

“Of course I am looking forward to it!” 

“Then what’s got you staring like a basilisk at my Ravenclaws?”

“Nothing! I was lost in thought, that’s it. And my leg hurts.”

“I know your leg hurts, but you can’t always use it as an excuse, Aesop.”

“Watch me.”

Aesop dropped his eyes to his breakfast defiantly, carrying on with his attack on the food. Therefore he didn’t see his dear friend and colleague observe the young Ravenclaw who was currently talking excitedly about something with the Head Boy.

“Poor Amit,” she said after a while, “all the prefects and even the Head girl went home for the holidays. He’ll never be able to patrol the whole school by himself. Students could be sneaking out after curfew, and the possibility of him catching them is very slim.”

Aesop chose not to grace her words with an answer.

—

Aesop knew all too well that they’d be pretty much by themselves in the Faculty tower when she’d come to visit. Abraham went home to his wife, Mudiwa and her daughter were going to spend the break in their homeland, even the Magic Theory professor, Felicity Turner, who started teaching a year and a half ago, went away on a little holiday two days prior. Mirabel mostly kept to herself and her flowers, occasionally spending her days in the Three Broomsticks to be with her friend, and Nurse Blainey was just glad not be constantly bothered by students claiming to be sick with all kinds of excotic illnesses just so they could try to weasel their way out of class.

The potions master wasn’t sure whether to be ecstatic or terrified. The dream from a few days ago haunted him, terrified him, as did what he’s done upon waking. What if he lost his cool, what if he misinterpreted something that she said, snapped and ended up frightening her, or, Merlin forbid, forcing himself on her? He’d lose her and her friendship forever. 

The thought alone made cold sweat appear on the back of his neck. 

—

His heart fluttered around in his chest like mad as he awaited her arrival. She asked whether she’d be welcome to join him in his chambers after dinner, so that they could share a cup of tea, or perhaps something stronger, and talk for a bit. Aesop didn’t even think when he hurriedly answered her letter. Upon the light parchment, he only wrote a simple: ‘My door is open to you.’ 

He was so wound up, he actually began to sweat in his overcoat and jacket, and took them both off after a moment of consideration - he was in his rooms, after all, why shouldn't he. 

When the young woman mentioned ‘something stronger’ in her letter, Aesop immediately sent for a wine as similar to the one she drank in the Leaky Cauldron as could be found in The Three Broomsticks, not thinking twice about it. The potions master couldn’t help but feel like this evening was somehow significant.

How significant - he didn't know. However, his hair stood on end, and his heart was leaping in his chest. She was meeting him for Christmas Eve… Merlin knew what would happen.

—

Aesop stared at the young woman, his eyes wide, and, to his utter indifference, beginning to fill with tears. Why would his own mind torture him this way, hurt him like this, make hope blossom with his chest, it was not fair.

And yet, as the potions master’s hands balled into fists, as his knuckles went white, as his short fingernails dug into his palms, he slowly realised that perhaps… No.

This wasn’t real.

Aesop felt the pain of his nails cutting into his own skin. He felt the warmth of the flames in the fireplace. The taste of firewhiskey lingered on his lips, the strong liquor still burning in his throat. He could smell the fragrant pine wood being burned, the scent mingling with (F/N)’s perfume. He saw the light dance around his sitting room, saw the neat stack of books on his desk. ‘Moste Potente Potions’, ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’, ‘A Collection of Above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery’, he could read upon their spines perfectly. 

That didn't mean anything though!

Except… except when Aesop looked into her eyes, his heart skipped a beat.

How did he never notice?

Her eyes. The spark in her eyes, the one that shone even during the darkest of nights, that one thing he was never able to capture in any of his many many sketches of her face… Aesop couldn’t help but not recall seeing it in his dreams.

“I love you, sir.”

Aesop stood up, making the girl startle slightly. His mind went blank as he reached for her, as his fingers touched her cheek. Heavens, her skin was… so soft. So smooth under his weathered hand. And when he saw her lean into his touch, the potions master swallowed heavily.

I am going to die if this isn’t real. 

“Aesop,” he breathed. He needed… he needed to hear her say his name. He needed her to say that she loved him again. “I should have… I should have asked you to call me Aesop ages ago. My dearest girl…” His other hand came to stroke at her cheek.

“Aesop,” she said softly, her voice quiet. 

“There is nothing I’d want more than to have you by my side,” he admitted, his thumb coming to stroke the outline of her lips, so soft and inviting. The professor did his best to commit each and every second into his memory, imprint it there forever, but then, when her delicate hands took a hold of his face and guided him lower, his head just… gave out.

Aesop groaned quietly into the kiss, the sensations spreading through his body with all the ferocity of a forest fire during a hot summer. He barely noticed his arms wrapping around the girl’s waist, was only mildly aware of the way he imprisoned her smaller body in his hold. 

His brain had no chance to catch up, not when her hands were messing up his hair, not when he was allowed to taste her little sighs and gasps as they rolled wetly against his lips, tasting of wine, and of the very thing that made the young woman who she was. 

It was only when he pulled back to catch his breath did he finally feel like he could think again. He stood there with his eyes closed, his arms still curled tightly around the young body. He didn’t dare open either for the fear of the young woman not being there when he did, for it to be another dream.

“Aesop,” he heard again, so close he felt her breath on his ear. With a deep inhale, the professor opened his eyes to find the Ravenclaw still standing right there, her lips ever so puffier than they were a few minutes ago, and her cheeks flushed heavily. A smile slowly spread on his face and he realised… how bloody long has it been since he smiled like this. 

“Could you please…” he began, his voice hoarse, “could you please repeat what you said?” The young woman looked up at him questioningly for several moments, before opening her mouth: “Aesop?”

“No, no…” Aesop shook his head slowly, talking even quieter, “what you said before…”

It took another few seconds before the young woman remembered, her brain seemingly as scrambled as his own following their intimate interaction. 

“I love you?”

Aesop sighed loudly and let his face descend into the crook of her neck. His right hand stayed where it was, resting at her lower back and pressing her closer to him, while the other one slowly trailed up her back and into her hair. 

“I love you,” she repeated with conviction, embracing him sweetly, holding his head in place like she held him during that horrible night some time back. Except this time, Aesop shed no tears of pain or guilt. No.

He slowly dragged his head back up, his large nose stroking along the line of her throat, brushing up her jaw, cheek, until settling just inches away from hers. He captured her gaze, held her fluttering eyes with his own. Their breath mingled between them hotly, their close proximity intoxicating more than the alcohol. From this close, Aesop was perfectly able to see all the wonderful little intricacies of (F/N) (L/N)’s face, could very nearly count each and every one of her eyelashes, deeply drank in the sight of her little freckles, small circles under her sparkling eyes. 

“I love you…” she sighed again and this time, Aesop replied in kind before pulling her in for another kiss. 

—

Aesop had no clue as to how much time had passed before (F/N) finally left for the night… It must have been hours, but he still felt like it was not enough. Very much not enough. Aesop transfigured their armchairs into a single sofa in front of the flames, and then… then they kissed for a long time. Kissed, talked, kissed some more, drank more of their drinks of choice, talked in hushed intimate voices, and then kissed again. 

Despite his many dreams featuring the young Ravenclaw as their star, he completely forgot just how amazing it felt to just snog the living daylights out of someone. His dreams could not hold a candle to the real thing. And yet, a part of him was still terrified that he'd wake up any minute now, alone. This part of him, however, was never left to rule his mind for long. It stood no chance against the young woman's fingers in his hair, her legs thrown over his own where he sat on the sofa, her magnificent lips melding with his, their taste sweeter than Aesop ever imagined. 

He slowed down everytime he could feel their bodies heating up too much, wanting to take his time. Despite his heady, deeply erotic dreams throughout the months, Aesop was determined not to take this too fast - he wished, and he craved, and he so very much longed to hold the Ravenclaw in his arms, but he never once dared hope that he would be actually allowed to. And now that he was, he made a mental vow to not take such a gift for granted. He was going to do right by her. He was going to show her that despite the fact she could have so much better than him, he was going to do everything in his power not to make her regret that she chose him.

Later, when they held one another, their hands and fingers tentatively tracing each other's features, Aesop slowly felt sleep creeping up on him. The room grew cooler as the flames died down and the professor used his considerable build to shield his companion from the cold.

— 

When Aesop woke up in the morning, the first thing he felt was a twinge of panic - was it a dream? He tried to recall the night. 

Soft hands. Quiet words. Sweet lips.

He wasn't wearing his sleeping clothes.

After she's left, the potions master only managed to go and relieve his bursting bladder, before renewing the fires in his room, pulling his clothes off, and falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

It was Christmas Day 1893, and professor Aesop Sharp found himself questioning his own memory, something he never really had to do before. He knew she was there, judging by the glasses left in his sitting room and the neatly wrapped present from her. There was still a drop of firewhisky left in one of the tumblers, and, without further ado, Aesop gulped it down.

It wasn't until breakfast sometime later when his mind calmed down. His eyes sought her out immediately after he sat down, and he saw her looking at him covertly from the Ravenclaw table. She looked tired, with circles under her eyes, but Aesop swore that she was glowing. Has he ever seen her this happy? He allowed the tiniest little smile her way, before digging into his breakfast hungrily.

"Merry Christmas, Aesop," Dinah chirped next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. 

It was. It was a merry Christmas indeed.

"Merry Christmas, Di."

—

Aesop awoke. His eyes fluttered a little before opening slowly, blinking away the slowly fading remains of slumber. First thing he saw in the dimness of his room, illuminated only by the embers in the fireplace, and the winter sun streaming into his chambers from the windows in his sitting room, was (F/N)(L/N). 

She was sleeping in his arms, safe and secure, and finally, finally, his. Just to be sure, Aesop pinched his own hand, but a part of him knew that this was no dream. No. He remembered every single moment that led up to this one, every word, every kiss, every little touch. He remembered the way he stared into her brilliant eyes as sleep slowly claimed them the previous night, he remembered the feeling of her soft pyjamas underneath his fingertips, he remembered feeling the way her breathing evened out, the way it felt to have her chest pushed against his with every deep inhale.

No, no. This was no dream. He truly was in his bed, in his own set of pyjamas, and with his brilliant girl snuggled into his chest. Aesop felt the corners of his mouth lift and stretch into a grin so wide, it almost hurt. He could not remember the last time he smiled this hard, if ever. Very carefully, as not to wake her up, he ran his fingers through her sleep-matted hair, pushing it out of her angelic face. The potions master let a quiet sound of absolute contentment leave his mouth as he once more wrapped both of his arms around her body, his legs tangling with her own further below the covers. 

The girl stirred as she was being lovingly smothered in Aesop’s embrace, though she didn’t seem to be complaining. In fact, she grabbed onto the fabric of his sleeping shirt, grabbing a fistful of material with each hand, she pulled him even closer, her nose dragging along his neck and breathing him in deeply.

“Good morning, Aesop,” she said, her voice muffled slightly between their bodies, “Did you have nice dreams?” Aesop chuckled breathlessly.

“No. I don't think I dreamed at all last night. But it does feel like I'm dreaming right now.”

I sincerely hope you enjoyed rading! As always, you can find this work and all of my other fics over on AO3. I am always incredibly grateful for feedback!

[eddiclupin]

[  ben barnes, cis-man, he/him + Migraine by Twenty one pilots ]   ━━   Hey, that’s [ Edward Remus Lupin ]? I read an article on them once ; they're [ twenty-eight ] years old of [ half-blood ] descent, a [ wizard/ metamorph ] and a [ Hufflepuff ] alumnus. I heard they had gone on to be an [ auror ] . I've also heard they can be quite [ Humble + Supportive ], but I don’t know… they came off very [ Frivolous + Workaholic ] in that interview. It really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

[ playlist ] [ pinterest ] [ musings ] [ visage ]

BASIC INFORMATION:

full name: edward remus lupin name meaning: edward - meaning “guardian” or “protector.” remus - meaning “twin.” lupin - meaning “pertaining to wolf.” nicknames: eddie, eds, teddy, ted age: twenty-eight (28) birthday: april 13 gender: cis-man pronouns: he/him/his sexuality: unsure blood status: half-blood alliance: neutral

APPEARANCE:

face claim: ben barnes height: 6′1″ (six foot one) eye color: brown hair color and style: dark brown, often worn shaved on the sides and slicked back. Sometimes he’ll let it to it’s own devices. scars/piercings/tattoos/other markings: scars across knuckles, a scar on his cheek, ear pierced. fashion sense: almost always has a suit on, if he doesn’t it’s a simple pants and a t-shirt style.   

PERSONALITY:

the label: the bereft meyers-briggs:  ENFJ-T ; the protagonist :  Protagonists are inspiring optimists, readily taking action to do what they feel is right. (Extraverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging, Turbulent) likes: sweets, star gazing, collecting shells, and origami dislikes: bullies, mirrors, pet peeves: loud chewing, vices: tbd

BASIC FACTS AND HEADCANONS:

patronus: wolf wand: It is made of Walnut, possess a Snallygaster Heartstring core, and it's Swishy. Length:13⅓" (33.87cm) amortentia: fresh baked cookies, lavender, and petrichor boggart: himself

was a prefect before appointed head boy at hogwarts

was in the dueling club at hogwarts

well known for having cotton candy blue/pink hair at hogwarts

doesn’t have full control of his metamorph abilities 

CONNECTIONS:

Scorpius Malfoy; easily his best friend growing up once the bloke was born. A part of Teddy always viewed Scorpius as his younger brother. Whether that were true or not, the boy was still his family and the older boy would fight anyone that said otherwise. He often did his best to set an example for the other, even though to him Scorpius seemed far more put together than he did.

Victoire Weasley; He’s in love with her. Would he admit that out loud? Absolutely not. Victoire is also one that carries the title of best friend. One day she was just there and it was all just history since. Teddy adores her. He loves how protective she is of the weasley-potter clan (especially since he holds the same sentiments), loves the way she lights up a room with her presence, the way her hair falls when she wears it down, and the little bounce in her step whenever she sees him. A lot of the time he seems unamused with how she is with him but that is far from the truth.

Clyde Nott; during his time as prefect, Teddy made friends with Clyde. The younger bloke approached him for help on hobby searching and while he knew he didn’t have to, especially since he wasn’t his prefect, he still helped. Teddy took some time to get to know the other. It was after getting know him that he suggested maybe commentating for one of the quidditch games since he noticed the other liked to talk a lot, not that it was a bad thing. After he graduated, he often received owls from clyde about how things were going at hogwarts and eventually it went to text messages. Teddy stressed he wasn’t one for phones though.

BIO:

Teddy often heard stories from Harry and his grandmother about his parents. How valiant they were. But that was all they were to him; stories. 

As a young boy, Teddy was a handful. He acted on his emotions and often slammed doors and yelled. He was always so angry and bitter towards the world, towards himself. When he realized that screaming wasn’t fixing anything he just opted to not speaking. 

There’s always been a part of him that wishes he had that picture perfect family, or a family at all. Especially when it comes around the holidays and everyone is talking about what their parents got them or what their parents did for them. He wanted that. He wanted his parents alive, or at least just one of them. A mom to help him understand his metamorphmagus abilities rather than them just acting on his emotions; probably his least favorite thing about himself. A father to pick him up when he falls. It’s not that he’s not thankful for what his grandmother and godfather did, no, he appreciates it, but it just never really felt... fair. He knows that the weasley/potter clan are family, as well as the malfoy’s it just never seemed to make him feel any better. There had always been this hollow feeling for him and it didn’t make any sense until he had found the mirror of erised at hogwarts.

In hogwarts he was sorted into Hufflepuff, like his mother. Teddy focused on his school work, joining clubs to distract himself, especially the first two years he was there. When Vic came to Hogwarts the two basically became joined at the hip, at least for the times they could be. His focus was still on his schooling and it showed with his marks and the fact he was able to be appointed prefect and later on head boy. 

Now, Teddy drowns himself in his work. Any time they need someone he throws himself their way. Anything to stay away from going home to an empty flat. The only time he ever has free time is when he’s forced to take time off or when Victoire drags him away going on about self-care and the likes.

[thxnews]

An Insider's Guide to Massachusetts Institute of Technology

    Introduction

MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) is a globally recognized institution renowned for its academic excellence. Established in 1861 and located in Cambridge, Massachusetts, MIT stands among the top schools in the United States and beyond.  

Great Dome library at MIT. Photo by Aurore Duwez. Pixabay.  

Pursue Excellence in STEM Programs and Beyond

  MIT's Academic Rigor and Rewards At MIT, academic challenges await those who are eager to push their limits. The university is renowned for its strong STEM programs, and graduates from MIT make significant contributions to the world of science and technology. Key Considerations for Applying If you aspire to become an MIT student, several factors should be on your radar. Exceptional performance in STEM subjects is crucial, as admissions officers also consider your dedication to science and math as showcased through extracurricular activities.   The Selective Admissions Process MIT's admissions process is highly competitive, making it the most selective school in the country. Straight A students typically maintain an average GPA of 3.9, accompanied by average SAT scores of 740 in math and 700 in reading. While numbers aren't the sole criteria, they provide valuable insights into the admissions landscape.   A Time-Consuming and Committed Application Journey Applying to MIT demands significant time and commitment due to its comprehensive and meticulous application process.  

MIT Students think tank. Photo by Marvin Meyer. Unsplash.  

Explore the Vibrant Campus

  The Enchanting MIT Campus in Cambridge Nestled in Cambridge, Massachusetts, the MIT campus offers a captivating blend of architecture and innovation. Numerous interconnected buildings create a vibrant atmosphere, linked by an extensive network of underground tunnels.   Amazing Architecture, Landmarks and Services The Great Dome, a centerpiece of the main quad, stands as an iconic symbol on campus. This remarkable structure hosts diverse events, including concerts, speeches, and commencement ceremonies. MIT's dedicated police force ensures the safety of students and staff, maintaining a peaceful environment. The Department of Human Resources and the Center for Career Development provide comprehensive support for students' career planning and job placement.  

Stunning MIT Architecture. Photo by Meric Dagli. Unsplash.  

Engage in a Thriving Student Life

  The Intellectual Haven of MIT With over 11,000 undergraduate and 6,000 graduate students from all corners of the globe, MIT fosters an intellectually stimulating environment. World-renowned professors and accomplished students collaborate, creating an unparalleled atmosphere of growth and exploration.   Housing and Involvement Opportunities Students at MIT can choose from a range of accommodation options, including traditional dormitories, fraternities and sororities, and independent living groups. Beyond housing, countless opportunities for involvement await, from campus ministries to student government, ensuring a vibrant and engaging student life.   Academic Excellence and Supportive Faculty MIT boasts a student-to-faculty ratio of 3:1, allowing for personalized attention from highly accomplished professors. These distinguished faculty members, including Nobel Laureates and National Medal of Science recipients, not only teach but also guide students to develop effective learning strategies.   Thriving Student Organizations MIT offers a rich tapestry of student organizations to cater to diverse interests. The Student Activities Office (SAO), Interfraternity Council (IFC), and Undergraduate Association (UA) are among the most prominent, providing opportunities for involvement, leadership development, and cultural awareness.   Independent Activities Period (IAP) The Independent Activities Period (IAP) is a four-week term at MIT that offers a break between semesters, allowing students to participate in various activities such as workshops, concerts, and research projects.  

MIT Technology Logo. Photo by InSapphoWeTrust. Flickr.  

Uncover MIT's Research and Athletic Excellence

  Pioneering Research Facilities MIT's world-renowned research facilities contribute groundbreaking discoveries across multiple fields, including medicine and engineering. The Institute's commitment to research and development is exemplified by its exceptional faculty and the awe-inspiring campus architecture designed by renowned architect Frank Gehry.   Thriving Athletic Culture MIT values athletics as an integral part of student life, with 33 varsity sports teams competing in the NCAA Division III and the New England Women's and Men's Athletic Conference (NEWMAC). From rowing and sailing to soccer and track & field, students have ample opportunities to participate in sports and embrace a healthy lifestyle.  

Fraternities fireplace. Photo by Mgattorna. Pixabay.  

Join a Distinguished Network of Alumni

Accomplished MIT Alumni Network MIT boasts a vast network of over 140,000 alumni spread across 164 countries. These alumni excel in various industries and businesses, including renowned companies like Google, Intel, and Nike. Leveraging the MIT alumni network opens doors to mentorship, guidance, and collaboration with some of the most successful professionals worldwide.  

Photo by InSapphoWeTrust. Flickr.  

Conclusion: Embrace the Challenge and Seize the Opportunity

MIT is an institution of unparalleled academic rigor and opportunities. While admission is highly competitive, it's not solely based on numbers. MIT seeks exceptional individuals who are passionate about their fields and have demonstrated dedication beyond the classroom. By embarking on this transformative journey at MIT, you will join a vibrant community of scholars, innovators, and leaders who shape the future of science and technology.   Sources: THX News, Student Life & MIT. Read the full article

[hogwartsmysteryho]

Ryan Oakley

BASIC

Name: Ryan Chloe Oakley

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: heterosexual

Birthday: October 1st, 1996

Blood-Status: half-blood

House: Ravenclaw

Hometown: Perth, Perthshire, Scotland

Nationality: Scottish

PERSONALITY

Meyers Briggs: INTP

Enneagram: 5w6

Good Qualities: honest, bookworm, history buff, courageous, genuine, kind, responsible, reliable

Bad Qualities: can’t keep a secret, shy, easily embarrassed, awkward, chronic overthinker, bitter

Description: when Ryan was just a kid, she went to live with her grandparents as her two muggle-born parents went into hiding during the second wizarding war. one day went her grandparents were out, a pair of death eaters broke into her house demanding to know the whereabouts of her parents. when little Ryan refused to tell them, they forced a vile of veirta serum down her throat. Ryan was forced to be honest, resulting in their departure and her parents’ deaths. even worse for Ryan, the truth serum she had drunk was brewed incorrectly, or perhaps brewing with powerful dark magic, and the effects of the potion never wore off, forcing her to always tell the truth through the rest of her life. at hogwarts, Ryan is determined to become an auror to help fight dark wizards in the future. being a sweet and kind person, Ryan is well-liked among her classmates, but she has a hard time making best friends, as no one wants her spilling their secrets to the rest of the grade, even though she can’t help it.

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Tamara Smart

Height: 5’4”

Eye Color: dark brown

Hair Color: dark brown

Build: healthy but unsturdy

Walk: slow, unbalanced

Posture: slouches

Gestures while talking?: rarely

Scars/tattoos: small teapot tattoo on back

Style: comfy cardigans and sweaters

Handwriting: neat but nothing fancy

patronus: ryan is unable to produce a corporal patronus

boggart: the pair of death eaters from her past

riddikulus: ryan has never successfully cast this spell

amortentia (what she smells like): oak wood, honey, jabberknoll feathers

best class: history of magic

worst class: defense against the dark arts (despite all her best efforts to master this subject and become an auror, she just isn’t good at it)

quidditch: playing quidditch? no. researching the history of quidditch just for funsies? yes!

friends: Duncan Donavon- a fellow bookish and insecure ravenclaw who overthinks things makes a great friend of ryan. at least some of duncan’s anxieties are calmed in knowing that ryan holds no secrets from him. @amerrymystery

Nate McKade- History of Magic study-buddies for life. @unfortunate-arrow

Thea Whitten- thea was outgoing enough to befriend ryan and always knows just how to include her without crossing any boundaries. the girls have complimentary talents and make a good team. @unfortunate-arrow

Benedict Whitten- were always friendly but became better friends after the open-minded ravenclaw boy tutored ryan in defense against the dark arts for a bit. @unfortunate-arrow

ryan is open to any and all friends in ma era, just hmu!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sunflower-swan]

Title: Lost and Found Author: sunflower_swan (me!) Fandom: Harry Potter Rating: Teen  Pairing: Drarry (Draco/Harry) Tags: Auror Draco, Auror Harry, Auror Missions, Auror Partners, Forests, Cabin Fic, Sharing a Bed, Pre-Slash, EWE: Epilogue What Epilogue, Mild Language WC: 685 Summary: An auror mission goes awry. Luckily, Draco and Harry stumble upon an abandoned cabin in the woods... and there’s only one bed.

Written for @hermionesnookgroup Happy Birthday Neville and Harry 2022. Not only is it Harry and Neville’s birthday, it’s also my AO3-versary! My first fic posted to AO3 was for this collection in 2020. Enjoy!

Read below the break or read on AO3.

Harry and Draco scrambled through the underbrush, tightly gripping their wands and dodging low-hanging tree branches. A curse whizzed past Draco’s ear and hit a maple tree ahead; splinters of tree bark shattered in their faces.

“Fucks sake!” Draco wheezed.

“This way!” Harry grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him into a denser part of the forest.

The shouting voices of their pursuers quickly drifted away and dark silence pressed in on all sides. They dared not light their wands for fear of being found. More than once, they tripped over a fallen log or snagged their clothing on a briar.

After a half hour of wandering around — having no idea where they were or how close danger was — the trees cleared to reveal a wood cabin illuminated by the waning moon. Harry picked up his pace, heading for the abandoned building.

“Wait!” Draco hissed. He pulled Harry back into the cover of the trees.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and strained his ears for any sign of their attackers, while Draco cast spells around the area to check for dark magic, traps, and other beings.

“Clear,” announced Draco.

With utmost haste, they moved from the cover of the trees to the cabin. The door was warped and stuck. Harry muscled his way in before Draco could stop him, bruising his shoulder in the process.

“Ouch!” Harry rubbed his arm and stepped inside.

“Dumbass,” Draco muttered, following him.

Moving in opposite directions, Harry and Draco cast concealment and protection charms around their dank sanctuary, the uneven floorboards creaking beneath their feet.

“I suppose we’re as safe as we’re going to get in the circumstances.” Harry dimly lit his wand and inspected the interior.

There was one grimy bed in the corner — of course, there was. That would be fun to figure out later. A brick fireplace but no wood, not that they could risk a fire anyway. Where the roof wasn’t sagging with age, the starry night sky could be seen through a couple of sizable holes.

“I’ll take this over the alternative,” admitted Draco. He wiped his hand on the seat of the wooden chair under the paneless window and made a face before sitting down with resignation.

Harry dug through his pockets and pulled out his emergency muggle protein bars.

“Here.”

He handed one to Draco and sat on the mattress. It bowed and squeaked under his weight.

“Dare I ask what this is?” Draco wrinkled his nose, scrutinizing the offering.

“Probably better if you just eat it.” Harry ripped open his package and took a bite. “You get tetchy when you’re hungry and I don’t want a repeat of the Meyers case.”

Draco harrumphed but didn’t argue.

Finishing the protein bar and crumpling the foil in his fist, Draco asked, “Do you want the first shift or shall I take it?”

Harry didn’t hear him because he was examining the bed. Compared to the state of the cabin, it wasn’t awful. A few cleaning spells and, well… it wouldn’t be good as new but it would suffice.

“You’re not actually considering sleeping on that vermin-infested thing, are you?” Draco recoiled.

“Would you rather sleep on the floor?” Harry asked.

He waved his wand, casting the most powerful cleaning spells for mould, mildew, and animal waste that Molly had taught him, then stepped back to admire his work. It was still stained in places and smelled like a bog, but it would provide more rest than he had expected to get tonight.

Tentatively, he laid down, resting his hands behind his head and wriggling around to find a comfy spot.

“‘S not bad actually,” he said.

Draco frowned.

“No one — good or bad— is going to find us until morning this far out. We might as well rest while we can. Come on.” Harry patted the empty side next to him.

“You better not snore,” Draco drawled and lay as close to the edge, and as far from Harry, as possible.

“No one has ever complained before. I’ve been told I’m a snuggler though." Harry chuckled.

Draco groaned.

“Good night, Draco.”

“Good night, Harry.”

[onceweptarchive]

BASICS.

Given Name:  Alastor Euan Moody Nicknames:  Mad-eye,  later in the war;  Astor,  as a child;  I’m sure a number of other things that never make it to his ears Age / Birthdate:  36  /  April 12th 

Place of Birth:  Somewhere in Scotland lol Current Location:  Splits time between Scotland  (family home)  and London  (a flat) Gender:  Cismale,  he/him pronouns Sexual Orientation:  Demisexual Blood Status:  Pureblood.  The Moody family is a highly respected name in the wizarding world,  though historically it has never been concerned with blood status or social hierarchy.  Instead the family has a long and documented history of allying themselves with the law. Occupation:  Head Auror

PHYSICAL.

Face Claim:  Charlie Hunnam Features / Scars:  He has many scars that he’s picked up from his childhood,  auror training,  and active combat over the years.  Many of them are concentrated on his arms and hands;  he has a prominent one on his cheek,  left side,  and another on his right shoulder.  Alastor also has a prosthetic leg and a pattern of jagged scarring just above the knee from where he lost the limb in a splinching. Speech Patterns:  He has gruff voice and an accent  (Scottish)  that leaves no room for questions;  generally prefers curt sentences and often takes full advantage of the many curse words at his disposal. Languages Spoken:  English,  Russian,  German,  French,  and some Gaelic.

RELATIONSHIPS.

Marital Status:  Single Parents: Hilda Moody  (  mother,  alive  )  Hilda never wanted children and didn’t pretend otherwise.  She became a well established auror during Grindelwald's rise to power.  An unfeeling woman who was caught up in her own ambitions,  she wasn’t cut out for mothering and left much of her sons’ lives up to Graeme’s control.  Sometime around Alastor’s tenth birhday she was offered a job of high esteem within MACUSA and took it without hesitation,  leaving the two boys with their father.  They were sent to visit her one time after her departure and chose to remain home ever since.  She did not return for their father’s funeral and the last time she reached out to Alastor was when he made Head Auror  (he didn’t reply). Graeme Moody (  father,  deceased  )  Graeme was the primary caregiver to Alastor and Julian for much of their young lives.  He,  too,  was a highly decorated auror and worked closely with Albus Dumbledore.  Forever impacted by his own experiences in combat and eager to maintain the family’s longstanding legacy of excellent aurors,  he was extremely demanding and treated childrearing much like training recruits.  The boys were often subject to drills of all kinds,  and he was particularly fond of the efficacy of the stinging jinx.  Despite molding himself exactly to his fathers image,  Alastor never did measure up to expectations.  When Graeme died either from a cold or an explosion,  they still aren’t sure which killed him,  Alastor felt absolutely nothing.   Sibling(s): Julian Moody (  brother,  alive  )  He did get every single emotion in the family.  Julian was never cut out for the family they were born into and that fact often led to family disagreements.  Both of the boys were classified as disappointments by their parents,  but Julian more so.  Alastor helped train him when joined the academy which you can imagine was not a fun time.  When he “disappeared” for a few years after their father’s death,  Alastor requested the help of one of his closest friends to keep tabs on him. Children:  N  /  A Friends:  Caelan Catchlove,  Gabriel tbd,  Cristian Bell,  Matty Mckinnon Enemies:  Frankly so many :relieved: he does put a lot of ppl in Azkaban;  DEs

PERSONALITY.

Personality Type:  will look at meyer’s briggs later but also probably won’t Zodiac:  Aries Moral Alignment:  Chaotic Good Positive Traits:  Dutiful,  candid,  willful,  calculating,  observant Negative Traits:  Blunt / insensitive,  critical  (both to himself and to others),  merciless,  hardened Bad Habits:  Smoking,  drinking,  ignoring his own needs Secrets:  He does simply have so many of those but perhaps the biggest of all is that he does Feel Things :pleading: Regrets:  Never having been there for Julian in the way he should have;  he regrets much of the preventable death in the war,  even if it isn’t all his doing

ADDITIONAL.

House:  Slytherin maybe but also maybe not Wand:  12″ red oak,  dragon heartstring core,  rigid;  the wood is riddled with battle marks according to hp wiki  Patronus:  Ram,  though he tends to cast the charm in its non corporeal form whenever possible Boggart:  tba Amortentia:  tba Skills / Abilities:  Proficient in nonverbal magic,  advanced occlumens Loyalties:  The Order of the Phoenix,  though he vocally disagrees with Albus Dumbledore’s approach he does respect the man for his abilities.  He has never been aligned with the idea of children signing up for war which is part of the motivation to throw himself deeper into the fight;  to his team of Aurors,  who he would like to see survive.

[tcm]

Chantal Akerman by Rowan Tucker-Meyer

On September 21, Ava DuVernay will introduce Chantal Akerman’s remarkable film LES RENDEZ-VOUS D’ANNA (‘78) as part of TCM’s The Essentials series. This will be followed by Akerman’s experimental documentary HOTEL MONTEREY (‘73). This unique double feature will serve as an excellent introduction to her work for first-time viewers, as these two films capture what made the director so special and why her work is important.

From the very start of her career, Akerman was a radically original filmmaker. HOTEL MONTEREY, her debut feature film, is certainly an unusual movie. It consists entirely of silent footage shot in a New York City hotel. We see the hotel’s hallways, elevators, rooms and guests. HOTEL MONTEREY completely rethinks the documentary genre. It was released at a time when some documentarians were making films in the Direct Cinema style, which sought to depart from the conventions of traditional documentary filmmaking in favor of a more “objective” approach to shooting and editing. HOTEL MONTEREY, however, goes even further than the Direct Cinema movement by eliminating the constructs of character and story. By doing this, it presents these images of the hotel without any obvious message or agenda, and therefore is even more objective than Direct Cinema.

But this description doesn’t do justice to the hypnotic beauty of HOTEL MONTEREY. There’s something very special about the way that Akerman shoots this hotel. She takes something mundane and gradually turns it into something ominous. The slowness of her camera, the total silence that lasts throughout the film, the way some shots linger for just a little too long – all of this builds an unusual sort of tension. There is nothing “exciting” about this film in the ordinary sense of the word, and yet it’s hard to take your eyes off of it. As Akerman once said, “You don’t need to tell a story to make a film with a lot of tension.”

LES RENDEZ-VOUS D’ANNA, on the other hand, is a narrative film which tells the story of a film director named Anna Silver. While traveling through Europe to promote her newest film, she meets with a number of different people: family, friends, total strangers. During her conversations with these people, Anna never appears to truly care about what is being said, and these interactions are ultimately unfulfilling for her. Although she searches for genuine human connection, she is unable to find it.

Although this is a more “conventional” film than HOTEL MONTEREY, it still defies cinematic standards. Just as HOTEL MONTEREY breaks away from the traditions of the documentary genre, LES RENDEZ-VOUS D’ANNA does not at all resemble a traditional narrative film. Consider the way in which we learn about the character of Anna. Just as she feels detached from the people around her, the audience is detached from Anna and is never fully aware of what she’s thinking. She does not talk very much, and her dialogue often reveals little about her inner thoughts and feelings. The only real insight we get into her character is through the details of her face and body language (Aurore Clément, who plays Anna, gives a marvelously subtle performance). A typical protagonist would have some sort of supporting character with whom they could openly discuss their feelings and thereby explicitly convey them to the audience, but the tragedy of Anna’s character is that there is nobody in her life with whom she can truly confide – except perhaps the unseen character that Anna repeatedly tries to call but can never reach.

Even more unconventional is Akerman’s comfort with silence and long takes. Who else would choose to include a nearly two-minute-long scene of Anna laying down on the bed in her hotel room? It’s a bold choice, one that very few directors would have the audacity to shoot, but Akerman is willing to stop and just let the film breathe for a moment. This is the kind of touch that makes her films so special.

Akerman always made films that were distinctly and unquestionably her own. She rebelled against the trends of commercial filmmaking and instead made movies that served her own artistic vision. At a time when movies were becoming faster, simpler and more formulaic, she made movies that were slow, subtle and innovative. And she was doing all of this as a woman in an extremely male-dominated industry. On September 21, Ava DuVernay and TCM will celebrate Akerman’s life and work by showing LES RENDEZ-VOUS D’ANNA and HOTEL MONTEREY. These two films will show why she was so groundbreaking in her time and why she still matters today.

[aleksandraveronica]

14, 25, 34

Thank you!! ❤️ okay, those are tricky, but here we go:

14.  Name a book where the movie/tv adaption actually was better than the original

This is HARD. But… I’m gonna say Good Omens. And don’t get me wrong, the book is a work of art BUT tv adaptation is so, so faithful to it, while making it even better. Episode 3 opening? With Crowley & Aziraphale through the ages? That twist at the end? David Tennant and Michael Sheen? “You go too fast for me Crowley”? Yeah, Good Omens tv adaptation really is something else.    

25. If you could be a character from a book for just one day who would you be and why? (Bonus: any specific day in the story?)

I’m gonna say - if I couldn’t actually change the story - Mary Lennox from The Secret Garden. Just for the sake of living in a huge house in the middle of a moorland, running around the gardens being carefree. I always loved this book as a child.

But if I COULD change the story - I’d love to be Harry for that day in the Order of the Phoenix when Sirius gets killed in the Ministry. I’m still not over that, so I would NOT go to the Ministry. But bully Umbridge anyway. Or, better yet, be Tonks or any of the other aurors able to save him. Because not going to the Ministry would result in Fudge still not believing Harry... 

34. List five OTPs

I LOVE THAT ONE (though it’s an internal struggle to choose five. My shipper heart is NOT satisfied). BUT those are the ones I cannot stop thinking about. They’re all amazingy heart-breaking, apparently I’m into that kind of thing, oh well:

1. Patroclus/Achilles (The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller) - this book has literally changed my life & Patrochilles is my superior book OTP. IT’S SO SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL. Please, please read it if you haven’t.

2. Gal/Ettian (Bonds of Brass by Emily Skrutskie) - *whispers* Boys in love. In space. Finnpoe parallels. Angst. Pining. Every trope you want for your OTP.

3. Catherine/Jest (Heartless by Marissa Meyer) - Forbidden. Romance. Please let me unread this so I can have my heart back

4. Alex/Henry (Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston) - this is some of the best bickering-boys-loving-each-other stories I’ve read. Hearing Your Song by Elton John’s still makes my heart jump.

5. Crier/Ayla (Crier’s War by Nina Varela) - enemies to lovers, two badass girls, written by the author of my favourite fic. Need I say more?

[songedunenuitdete]

[box type=”info” align=”” class=”” width=””]

Nombre de pages : 128 pages Tranche d’âge : 9 – 12 ans Editeur : La Martinière Jeunesse Date de sortie : 12 mars 2020 Langue : Français ISBN-10 : 2732486469 ISBN-13 : 978-2732486468 Prix éditeur : 12,90€ Disponible sur liseuse : Non

De quoi ça parle ?

Comme toutes les épreuves qui jalonnent notre existence, le premier chagrin d’amour est essentiel pour mûrir.

Mais il est vrai qu’un ado en pleine rupture est totalement absorbé par son malheur. Il le vit avec violence et passion, comme tout le reste. Pour lui, c’est très sérieux, il a l’impression d’avoir tout perdu, qu’il n’arrivera jamais à faire le deuil de cette séparation.

Sans juger le chagrin ni le minimiser, l’auteur de Mille façons de survivre à un chagrin d’amour s’adresse aux adolescents avec les mots justes. Avec un ton décomplexé ce sont des conseils, des tests mais aussi des listes de chansons ou de films à voir en cas de tristesse insurmontable qui sont exposés dans cet ouvrage feelgood.[/box]

Mon avis

1000 façons de survivre à un chagrin d’amour est un ouvrage qui s’adresse clairement à un jeune public adolescent, et même si dans l’ensemble je l’ai trouvé plutôt orienté vers un public féminin, les jeunes garçons ne sont pas oubliés et peuvent tout aussi bien feuilleter ce livre pour en tirer quelques bon conseils. Car on le sait tous, l’amour s’adresse à tout le monde, et un chagrin d’amour n’est pas juste un truc de filles.

Après une courte introduction, le livre se découpe en quatre parties, qui donnent des astuces, proposent des petits tests ou encore des choses à faire ou à ne pas faire quand on fait face à une rupture amoureuse. Je l’ai trouvé bien construit, avec des chapitres courts de deux à trois double-pages, avec de nombreuses illustrations, donnant au livre un certain dynamisme et une envie de le feuilleter pour voir plus loin ce qui s’y cache. On sent que les auteurs se sont réellement mises à la place d’un(e) ado, qui doit faire face à une rupture et qui ne veut pas écouter l’adulte qui est passé par là et qui lui dit que ça ira mieux.

Alors oui, on peut aller mieux, mais que peut-on faire ? Comment peut-on gérer le pendant ou encore l’après ? Ce petit livre propose des pistes à explorer sur un ton léger et sous forme de A faire ou A ne pas faire. Car on a tous eu envie à un moment donné de récupérer un ex, quitte à faire certains compromis, qui finalement ne sont peut-être pas de bonnes idées sur le moment.

Ce que j’ai particulièrement apprécié, c’est que les premières parties se positionnent plus sur la relation en elle-même avant la rupture, sur des sentiments comme la jalousie, la tromperie, le consentement. Et je dois avouer qu’en tant que maman d’une future jeune adolescente, je suis contente de voir ces thèmes abordés. Car on sait très bien que nos enfants nous écoutent, mais ont parfois tendance à faire le contraire de ce qu’on attend d’eux. Aussi, voir ces notions dans un livre qui leur est destiné peut peut-être les aider à comprendre que non, untel n’est pas plus beau, ou plus cool que soit, et que chacun a une personnalité qu’il ne faut pas oublier, juste pour plaire à un garçon ou une fille.

Est-ce que ce livre est la réponse à un chagrin d’amour ? Peut-être pas, mais il donne en tout cas des conseils judicieux qui, à mon sens, ne s’adressent pas uniquement aux ados, et pourraient très bien être donné à un adulte qui vient de se faire rejeter. Avec ses pages illustrées et colorées, ses textes courts, son ton léger et ses références aussi bien à des auteurs classiques (George Sand, Gustave Flaubert, …) qu’à des séries contemporaines (Riverdale, Les nouvelles aventures de Sabrina, …), il se présente comme une aide à une période de la vie d’un ado où tout ce qu’il ne veut pas entendre, ce sont les lieux communs du genre “ça va passer !”, “Laisse toi du temps”, … Pour ma part, je vais le ranger dans ma bibliothèque, et quand Tigrounette sera plus grande, il sera temps de lui ressortir.

[Chronique - Mokonalex] Mon #avis sur 1000 façons de survivre à un chagrin d'amour de Aurore Meyer et Sophie Bouxom aux Editions de la Martinière Jeunesse : un guide qui s'adresse aux adolescents au coeur brisé. Nombre de pages : 128 pages Tranche d'âge : 9 - 12 ans Editeur : La Martinière Jeunesse…

[essilt]

Fic: Mnemosyne's gift (WIP)

Autors: @katerina150 , @essilt Theseus Scamander / Leta Lestrange, Canon Het Relationship, Het, Alternate Universe, Epistolary, Drama, Romance, Family Feels Notes: BC THEY ARE OUR BBS AND JFC WE JUST CAN’T! Notes2: We’re sorry for mistakes, english isn’t our native language. Sum: Fantastic Letters and what are they hiding.

[pelisflis]

Ver La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder Pelicula Completa en Español Latino (Gratis 2021)

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Sinopsis de la pelicula La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder

Con la determinación de asegurar que el sacrificio definitivo de Superman no fue en vano, Bruce Wayne une fuerzas con Diana Prince para reclutar a un equipo de metahumanos que protejan el mundo de una amenaza inminente de proporciones catastróficas. La tarea es más difícil de lo que Bruce imaginaba, ya que cada uno de los reclutas deberá enfrentarse a sus propios demonios para trascender aquello que los detenía, para unirse y formar de manera definitiva una liga de héroes sin precedentes. Ahora unidos, Batman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg y Flash deberán salvar al planeta de la amenaza de Steppenwolf, DeSaad y Darkseid, antes de que sea demasiado tarde.

Informacion de la pelicula La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder

Lanzamiento: 2021-03-18

Duracion: 242 Minutos

Genero: Acción, Aventura, Fantasía, Ciencia ficción

Actores de la pelicula La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder

Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Gal Gadot, Jason Momoa, Ezra Miller, Ray Fisher, Amy Adams, Jeremy Irons, Connie Nielsen, Diane Lane, J.K. Simmons, Ciarán Hinds, Amber Heard, Joe Morton, Ray Porter, Jesse Eisenberg, Jared Leto, Willem Dafoe, Kiersey Clemons, Peter Guinness, Harry Lennix, Karen Bryson, Marc McClure, Sergi Constance, Michael McElhatton, Lara Decaro, Ryan Zheng Kai, David Thewlis, Samantha Win, Lisa Loven Kongsli, Julian Lewis Jones, John Dagleish, Francis Magee, Doutzen Kroes, Brooke Ence, Hari James, Ann Ogbomo, Russell Crowe, C. Amanda Maud, Ágústa Eva Erlendsdóttir, Björt Sigfinnsdóttir, Salome R. Gunnarsdottir, Kristbjörg Kjeld, Ingvar E. Sigurðsson, Védís Vífilsdóttir, Snæfríður Rán Aðalsteins, Charlotte Comer, Serene Angus, Anna Burgess, Alison Chang, Constance Bole, Shahla Ayamah, Chris Courtenay, Heather Imbeah, Carla Turner, Grace Cookey-Gam, Matthew Bates, Gary Reimer, Robbie Gee, Jim Sturgeon, Eleanor Matsuura, Anthony Wise, Jérôme Pradon, Richard Clifford, Rebecca C. Perfect, Vincent Riotta, Edward Mitchell, Mark Arnold, Martin Troakes, Aurore Lauzeral, Lucy Briers, David Mara, Wil Coban, Stewart Alexander, Christy Meyer, Granville Saxton, Gianpiero Cognoli, Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, Kevin Mathurin, Joyce Veheary, Taylor James, Hadrian Howard, Victor Gardener, Bruce Chong, Orion Lee, Oliver Gatz, Rachel Blenkiron, Lynne Anne Rodgers, Oliver Powell, Kelly Burke, Keith Simpson, Omri Rose, Will Austin, William Atkinson, Sam Benjamin, Shalini Peiris, Carla Gugino, Adam Forman, Peter Brooke, Peter Henderson, Bruce Lester-Johnson, Katia Elizarova, Gemma Refoufi, Leila Reid, Suan-Li Ong, Tina Balthazar, Penny Lane, Stephanie Haymes-Roven, Gary A. Hecker, Steve West, Laura Waddell, Kevin Costner, Swaylee Loughnane, Robin Wright, Billy Crudup, Zack Snyder, Clem So, Greg Draven, Joe Manganiello, Nick McKinless

Detalles de la pelicula La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder

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Sin embargo, la navegación muchas veces termina en páginas web que no cumplen lo prometido, que aseguran tener los últimos estrenos, pero que solo te derivan de un site a otro, que te obligan a dar clic tras clic mientras te llenan la pantalla de publicidad, para finalmente dirigirte hasta un enlace que no funciona o que demora mucho en cargar. Además, la calidad de imagen en estas páginas informales de cine es muy baja. Y repetimos, informales. ¿Por qué? Porque son páginas piratas, que violan derechos de autor y que incluso pueden representar un riesgo.

¿Sabías que muchos de estos sitios esconden virus que podrían dañar tus dispositivos y hasta robar tu información? En todo caso, muchas veces te obligan a registrarte con tus cuentas de Facebook, Gmail u Outlook (Hotmail) para que recién puedas comenzar a ver La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020) pelis en Español latino. Por tanto, te sugerimos solo visitar las siguientes plataformas, legales, seguras y sacramentadas.

Algunas incluso permiten escuchar y descargar música MP3 gratis de tus artistas favoritos. ¿Cuáles son las mejores páginas para ver La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020) películas HD online gratis? En sí hay muchas de este tipo, pero para efectos prácticos hemos elegido algunas de las más populares en la red de redes. Ya dependerá de ti elegir la que mejor se adapte a tus necesidades, ya sea por catálogo, por interfaz o velocidad de Internet.

Es decir, la que te permita ver películas gratis en Español con mayor facilidad. Incluso algunas tienen versiones para teléfono si buscas dónde ver películas online móvil. ¿Quieres saber cuál es la mejor app para ver películas online? Esa ya no será ninguna preocupación de aquí en adelante. ¿Qué velocidad necesitas para ver películas online? En estas páginas, con una conexión básica te alcanzará y sobrará.

¿Qué plugin necesito para ver películas online? En la mayoría de casos, ¡ninguno! ¿Puedo encontrar dónde ver películas 3D online? Eso quizá está un poco más difícil. La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020) Ver películas online gratis A continuación todo lo que debes saber para ver La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020) películas online Ojo, la lista solo contempla páginas online legales, que albergan contenido de dominio público, independiente, liberado por sus mismos realizadores o con licencias como Creative Commons. Es decir, si quieres ver Animales Fantásticos 2 completa en Español o La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020), La chica en la telaraña, Overlord, La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020) o La Liga de la Justicia de Zack Snyder (2020) con subtítulos, puede que te decepciones.

Pero si aún te interesan títulos de reciente estreno como estos, aquí puedes revisar la cartelera de tu país de origen, incluidos horarios y precios de entradas por cine. También descubre los próximos estrenos. Eso sí, ¿sabías que hasta puedes ver películas gratis en YouTube? Puedes suscribirte al servicio de paga de YouTube para acceder a contenido exclusivo que jamás has imaginado. Los tres primeros meses son gratis. Classic Cinema Online es una de las páginas de curaduría de clásicos más populares en la red. El sitio está dedicado por completo a la distribución de películas de libre acceso, liberadas de derechos de autor. Por ejemplo, su catálogo de cine mudo es excepcional. ¿Lo mejor de todo? Puedes ver las películas desde YouTube, por lo que navegar es sencillísimo.

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[collectorscorner]

CC Blogger - New Arrivals @ Collectors Corner : Wednesday - 03/21/18 Complete list of items shipping to the stores, some items may be limited in availability. If you see anything you want to purchase on the list and are not a subscription member at Collectors Corner, just contact us and let us know if you want an item held at the stores. email - collectorscornermd@comcast.net Subscription Membership & Free Membership Card : Collectors Corner’s No Obligation (FREE) Membership Card or FREE (In Store) & ONLINE Subscription Membership saves you 10% Off ALL Bagged & Boarded Comic Book Back Issues, Board Games, Graphic Novels, Manga & Special Orders. Plus Never miss a comic again! Computerized and organized + you can add and cancel titles on your subscription list from home on your own time, or in the store when you pick up your comics at : Maryland’s Coolest Stores! Since 2001. 3 Convenient Locations - CC PARKVILLE HQ 7911 Harford Rd Parkville, MD 21234 CC BALTIMORE - OUTPOST 403 North Charles St. Baltimore, MD 21201 CC BEL AIR - OUTPOST 17 N. Main St. Bel Air, MD 21014 www.collectorscornermd.com NEW ARRIVALS : WEDNESDAY - 03/21/18 ACTION LAB ENTERTAINMENT Miraculous Adventures Of Ladybug And Cat Noir Volume 1 TP, $14.99 Princeless Raven The Pirate Princess Year Two Love And Revenge #6 , $3.99 Toyetica #7, $3.99 AFTERSHOCK COMICS Babyteeth #9, $3.99 AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY PRODUCTIONS Land That Time Forgot See-Ta The Savage #1 (Of 2)(Cover A Mike Wolfer), $3.99 Land That Time Forgot See-Ta The Savage #1 (Of 2)(Cover B Mike Wolfer Antique Variant), $7.99 AMIGO COMICS Tales Of Rogues #3 (Of 6), $3.99 ARCHIE COMIC PUBLICATIONS Archie #29 (Cover A Audrey Mok), $3.99 Archie #29 (Cover B Pete Woods Milkshakes Variant), $3.99 Archie #29 (Cover C Pete Woods Car Variant), $3.99 Riverdale Digest #7, $6.99 ASPEN COMICS Jirni Primer #1 (One Shot), $0.25 Jirni Volume 2 New Horizons TP, $12.99 Jirni Volume 3 #1 (Cover A Michael Santamaria), $3.99 Jirni Volume 3 #1 (Cover B V Ken Marion), $3.99 Jirni Volume 3 #1 (Cover C Talent Caldwell), AR BLACK LIBRARY Warhammer 40000 Cult Of The Spiral Down Prose Novel SC, $16.00 BOOM! STUDIOS Adventure Time Comics #21 (Cover A Bethany Sellers), $3.99 Adventure Time Comics #21 (Cover B Nuno Plati), $3.99 Adventure Time Comics #21 (Cover C Sapo Lendario), AR Amazing World Of Gumball Volume 4 Scrimmage Scramble GN, $14.99 Big Trouble In Little China Old Man Jack #7 (Cover A Greg Smallwood), $3.99 Big Trouble In Little China Old Man Jack #7 (Cover B Michael Adams & Marco D'Alfonso Action Figure Variant), $3.99 Big Trouble In Little China Old Man Jack #7 (Cover C Will Robson Connecting Variant), AR Giant Days Volume 7 TP, $14.99 Jim Henson's The Storyteller Fairies #4 (Of 4)(Cover A Celia Lowenthal), $3.99 Jim Henson's The Storyteller Fairies #4 (Of 4)(Cover B Sas Milledge), $3.99 Lucy Dreaming #1 (Cover A Michael Dialynas), $3.99 Saban's Go Go Power Rangers #8 (Cover A Dan Mora), $3.99 Saban's Go Go Power Rangers #8 (Cover B Miguel Mercado Civilian Variant), $3.99 Saban's Go Go Power Rangers #8 (Cover C Michelle Wong Locker Variant), AR Saban's Go Go Power Rangers #8 (Cover D Natacha Bustos Movie Variant), AR Saban's Go Go Power Rangers #8 (Cover E Audrey Mok Paper Doll Variant), $3.99 Steven Universe #14 (Cover A Missy Pena), $3.99 Steven Universe #14 (Cover B Eleanora Bruni), $3.99 WWE #15 (Cover A Dan Mora), $3.99 WWE #15 (Cover B Adam Riches Diamond Dallas Page Action Figure Variant), $3.99 WWE #15 (Cover C Brent Schoonover RAW 25th Anniversary Connecting Variant), $3.99 WWE #15 (Cover D Andy Belanger Kevin Owens Variant), AR CHRONICLE BOOKS Star Trek The Next Generation Cats HC, $14.95 COMIC SHOP NEWS Comic Shop News #1605, AR DANGER ZONE Consultant #4 (Of 4), $3.99 Gingerdead Man Meets Evil Bong #1, $3.99 DARK CIRCLE COMICS Mighty Crusaders #4 (Cover A Kelsey Shannon), $3.99 Mighty Crusaders #4 (Cover B Rich Buckler Red Circle Variant), $3.99 Mighty Crusaders #4 (Cover C Phil Jimenez Throwback Variant), $3.99 DARK HORSE COMICS Abe Sapien Dark And Terrible Volume 2 HC, $34.99 Aliens Dead Orbit TP, $17.99 Art Of Sea Of Thieves HC, $39.99 Cell Block Earth And Other Stories TP, $17.99 Dept. H #24, $3.99 Harrow County #29, $3.99 Harrow County Volume 7 Dark Times A'Coming TP, $17.99 Hatsune Miku Rin-Chan Now Volume 4 TP, $10.99 Mata Hari #2 (Of 5), $3.99 Tomb Raider Archives Volume 4 HC, $39.99 Usagi Yojimbo #166 (The Hidden Part 1 Of 7), $3.99 Vinegar Teeth #3 (Of 4), $3.99 DC COMICS Aquaman #34 (Cover A Andy Kubert), $3.99 Aquaman #34 (Cover B Joshua Middleton), AR Aquaman The Legend Of Aquaman TP, $19.99 Batman #43 (Cover A Mikel Janin), $2.99 Batman #43 (Cover B Olivier Coipel), AR Batman New Gotham Volume 2 TP, $24.99 Batman Sins Of The Father #2 (Of 6), $2.99 Batman Tales Of The Man-Bat TP, $19.99 Batman Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II #5 (Of 6)(Cover A Freddie E. Williams II), $3.99 Batman Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II #5 (Of 6)(Cover B Kevin Eastman), AR Batwoman #13 (Cover A Dan Panosian), $3.99 Batwoman #13 (Cover B Lee Bermejo), AR Bombshells United #14, $2.99 Brave And The Bold Batman And Wonder Woman #2 (Of 6), $3.99 Cave Carson Has An Interstellar Eye #1 (Cover A Michael Avon Oeming), $3.99 Cave Carson Has An Interstellar Eye #1 (Cover B Christian Ward), AR Damage #3, $2.99 Deadman #5 (Of 6), $3.99 Deathbed #2 (Of 6), $3.99 Flash Volume 5 Negative TP, $14.99 Future Quest Presents #8 (Cover A Guillem March), $3.99 Future Quest Presents #8 (Cover B Stephane Roux), AR Green Lanterns #43 (Cover A Will Conrad), $2.99 Green Lanterns #43 (Cover B Brandon Peterson), AR Harley Quinn #40 (Cover A Amanda Conner), $2.99 Harley Quinn #40 (Cover B Frank Cho), AR Injustice 2 #22, $2.99 Justice League #41 (Cover A David Yardin), $2.99 Justice League #41 (Cover B J. G. Jones), AR Justice League Task Force Volume 1 Purification Plague TP, $29.99 Nightwing #41 (Cover A Bernard Chang), $2.99 Nightwing #41 (Cover B Yasmine Putri), AR Planetary Volume 2 TP, $24.99 Super Sons #14 (Cover A Jorge Jimenez), $3.99 Super Sons #14 (Cover B Dustin Nguyen), AR Superman #43 (Cover A Patrick Gleason), $2.99 Superman #43 (Cover B Jonboy Meyers), AR Superman Action Comics The Oz Effect The Deluxe Edition HC, $29.99 Swamp Thing Winter Special #1 (Jason Fabok 2nd Printing Variant Cover), $7.99 Wonder Woman Forgotten Legends TP, $16.99 DEVILS DUE/1FIRST COMICS Squarriors Volume 2 Summer #3 (Of 4), $3.99 DRAWN AND QUARTERLY Berlin #22, $5.95 From Lone Mountain GN, $22.95 Moomin Winter GN, $9.95 Von Spatz GN, $16.95 DYNAMITE ENTERTAINMENT Barbarella #1 (Cover P Atlas Comics Signature Series Edition), $75.00 Gwar Orgasmageddon TP, $17.99 James Bond The Body #3 (Of 6)(Cover A Luca Casalanguida), $3.99 James Bond The Body #3 (Of 6)(Cover B Luca Casalanguida Black & White Variant), AR Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover A Diego Galindo), $4.99 Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover B Jonathan Lau), $4.99 Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover C Marco Santucci), $4.99 Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover D Jen Vaughn), $4.99 Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover E Diego Galindo Black & White Variant), AR Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover E Jonathan Lau Black & White Variant), AR Pathfinder Spiral Of Bones #1 (Of 5)(Cover E Marco Santucci Black & White Variant), AR Pathfinder Volume 2 Of Tooth And Claw TP, $19.99 Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover A Philip Tan), $3.99 Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover B Stephen Segovia), $3.99 Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover C Cosplay), $3.99 Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover D Jimmy Broxton), $3.99 Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover E Cosplay Virgin Variant), AR Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover F Philip Tan Black & White Variant), AR Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover G Jimmy Broxton Black & White Variant), AR Vampirella #11 (Of 11)(Cover H Philip Tan Virgin Variant), AR FIRST SECOND Science Comics Robots And Drones GN, $12.99 Science Comics Robots And Drones HC, $19.99 Secret Coders Volume 5 Potions And Parameters GN, $10.99 Secret Coders Volume 5 Potions And Parameters HC, $18.99 HORRORHOUND HorrorHound #70, $6.99 IDW PUBLISHING 30 Days Of Night #4 (Of 6)(Cover A Ben Templesmith), $3.99 30 Days Of Night #4 (Of 6)(Cover B Piotr Kowalski & Aurore Folny), $3.99 30 Days Of Night #4 (Of 6)(Cover C Ben Templesmith), AR Angry Birds Comics Furious Fowl HC, $12.99 Comic Book History Of Comics Comics For All #4 (Cover A Ryan Dunlavey), $3.99 Comic Book History Of Comics Comics For All #4 (Cover B Ryan Dunlavey & Adam Guzowski), $3.99 Corto Maltese The Golden House Of Samarkand GN, $34.99 Dungeons And Dragons Shadow Of The Vampire #1 (IDW's Greatest Hits Edition), $1.00 Gears Of War The Rise Of RAAM #3 (Cover A Ryan Brown), $3.99 Gears Of War The Rise Of RAAM #3 (Cover B Whilce Portacio), $3.99 Gears Of War The Rise Of RAAM #3 (Cover C Whilce Portacio), AR Ghostbusters Answer The Call #4 (Cover A Corin Howell), $3.99 Ghostbusters Answer The Call #4 (Cover B Philip Branesky Funko Variant), $3.99 Ghostbusters Answer The Call #4 (Cover C Photo), AR My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic #64 (Cover A Andy Price), $3.99 My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic #64 (Cover B Sara Richard), $3.99 My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic #64 (Cover C Tony Kusisto), AR Punks Not Dead #2 (Cover A Martin Simmonds), $3.99 Punks Not Dead #2 (Cover B Caspar Wijngaard), $3.99 Punks Not Dead #2 (Cover C Martin Simmonds), AR Samurai Jack Quantum Jack #5 (Of 5)(Cover A Michael Avon Oeming), $3.99 Samurai Jack Quantum Jack #5 (Of 5)(Cover B Warwick Johnson-Cadwell), $3.99 Samurai Jack Quantum Jack #5 (Of 5)(Cover C Craig Kellman & Scott Wills), AR Spider King #2 (Of 4)(Cover A Simone D'Armini), $3.99 Spider King #2 (Of 4)(Cover B Jakub Rebelka), $3.99 Star Trek New Adventures Volume 5 TP, $29.99 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Universe #20 (Cover A Freddie E. Williams II), $4.99 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Universe #20 (Cover B Dave Wachter), $4.99 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Universe #20 (Cover C Tim Lattie), AR Transformers The IDW Collection Phase Two Volume 7 HC, $49.99 We Spoke Out Comic Books And The Holocaust HC, $49.99 IMAGE COMICS Black Science Vollume 7 Extinction Is The Rule TP, $16.99 Cyber Force Rebirth Artifacts Volume 3 TP, $16.99 Dark Fang #5, $3.99 Death Of Love #2 (Of 5), $3.99 Descender #28 (Cover A Dustin Nguyen), $3.99 Descender #28 (Cover B Dustin Nguyen Little Robot Variant), $3.99 Dissonance #2, $3.99 Evolution #5, $3.99 Further Adventures Of Nick Wilson #3 (Of 5)(Cover A Pete Woods), $3.99 Further Adventures Of Nick Wilson #3 (Of 5)(Cover B Ian Churchill), $3.99 Hit-Girl #1 (Amy Reeder 2nd Printing Variant Cover), $3.99 Ice Cream Man #2 (Martin Morazzo 2nd Printing Variant Cover), $3.99 Ice Cream Man #3 (Cover A Martin Morazzo & Chris O'Halloran), $3.99 Ice Cream Man #3 (Cover B Mike Shea), $3.99 Kick-Ass #2 (Cover A John Romita Jr.), $3.99 Kick-Ass #2 (Cover B John Romita Jr. Black & White Variant), $3.99 Kick-Ass #2 (Cover C Francesco Francavilla), $3.99 Kill Or Be Killed #17 (Cover A Sean Phillips), $3.99 Kill Or Be Killed #17 (Cover B Sean Phillips Virgin Wraparound Variant), $3.99 Monstress #15 (Cover A Sana Takeda), $3.99 Monstress #15 (Cover B Sana Takeda Virgin Wraparound Variant), $3.99 Moonshine #8 (Cover A Eduardo Risso), $3.99 Moonshine #8 (Cover B Rafael Albuquerque), $3.99 Moonshine #8 (Cover C Eduardo Risso Virgin Wraparound Variant), $3.99 Moonstruck Volume 1 TP, $9.99 Outcast By Kirkman And Azaceta #34, $3.99 Regression #8, $3.99 Rumble #4 (Cover A David Rubin), $3.99 Rumble #4 (Cover B Marcial Toledano Vargas & Dave Stewart), $3.99 Rumble #4 (Cover C David Rubin Virgin Wraparound Variant), $3.99 Southern Cross #14, $3.99 Stray Bullets Sunshine And Roses #33, $3.99 Walking Dead #170 (Ken Haeser Zombie Head Variant Cover)(Dynamic Forces), AR Witchblade #4 (Cover A Roberta 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(Cover A Daniel Warren Johnson), $3.99 Cable #155 (Cover B Ryan Stegman), AR Cable #155 (Cover C Tyler Kirkham New Mutants Variant), AR Captain America #698 (Chris Samnee 2nd Printing Variant Cover), $3.99 Doctor Strange Damnation #3 (Of 4)(Cover A Rod Reis), $3.99 Doctor Strange Damnation #3 (Of 4)(Cover B Ron Lim), AR Doctor Strange Damnation #3 (Of 4)(Cover C Leinil Francis Yu New Mutants Variant), AR Doctor Strange Damnation #3 (Of 4)(Cover D Greg Smallwood Connecting Variant C), AR Doctor Strange Damnation #3 (Of 4)(Cover E Rod Reis Tarnation Variant), AR Generation X Volume 3 Survival Of The Fittest TP, $19.99 Incredible Hulk #714 (Cover A Mike Deodato Jr.), $3.99 Incredible Hulk #714 (Cover B Geoff Shaw), AR Iron Fist #78, $3.99 Iron Fist Volume 2 Sabretooth Round Two TP, $17.99 Iron Man Hong Kong Heroes #1 (Cover A Justice Wong), $3.99 Iron Man Hong Kong Heroes #1 (Cover B Gang Hyuk Lim), AR Iron Man Hong Kong Heroes #1 (Cover C Bill Crosby), AR Marvel Masterworks Ka-Zar Volume 2 HC (Book Market Edition), $75.00 Marvel Masterworks Ka-Zar Volume 2 HC (Direct Market Variant Edition Volume 257), $75.00 Marvel Masterworks Marvel Two-In-One Volume 3 HC (Book Market Edition), $75.00 Marvel Masterworks Marvel Two-In-One Volume 3 HC (Direct Market Variant Edition Volume 256), $75.00 Marvel's Avengers Infinity War Prelude TP, $15.99 Mighty Thor #705 (Cover A Russell Dauterman), $3.99 Mighty Thor #705 (Cover B Jee Hyung), AR Mighty Thor #705 (Cover C Esad Ribic Mighty Thor Variant), AR Mighty Thor #705 (Cover D Stanley Artgerm Lau), AR Mighty Thor #705 (Cover F Stanley Artgerm Lau Virgin Variant), AR Monsters Unleashed #12, $3.99 Ms. Marvel #28, $3.99 Old Man Hawkeye #2 (Of 12)(Marco Checchetto 2nd Printing Variant Cover), $3.99 Runaways #7, $3.99 Spider-Gwen #30, $3.99 Spider-Men II TP, $17.99 Star Wars #1 (Ken Haeser Variant Cover)(Stan Lee Signed Edition)(Dynamic Forces), AR Star Wars #45 (Cover A David Marquez), $3.99 Star Wars #45 (Cover B John Tyler Christopher Action Figure Variant), AR Star Wars Legends Epic Collection The Clone Wars Volume TP, $39.99 Star Wars Poe Dameron #25, $3.99 Tales Of Suspense #103 (Of 5), $3.99 Thanos #17 (Cover A Geoff Shaw), $3.99 Thanos #17 (Cover B Christian Ward), AR True Believers Venom Dark Origin #1, $1.00 True Believers Venom Flashpoint #1, $1.00 Weapon H #1 (Cover A Leinil Francis Yu), $4.99 Weapon H #1 (Cover B Skan), AR Weapon H #1 (Cover C Georges Duarte), AR Weapon H #1 (Cover D John Tyler Christopher Trading Card Variant), AR Weapon H #1 (Cover E Dale Keown Hulk Homage Variant), AR Weapon H #1 (Cover F Adam Kubert Wolverine Homage Variant), AR Weapon H #1 (Cover G Leinil Francis Yu Virgin Variant), AR X-Men Blue Volume 0 Reunion TP, $34.99 X-Men Blue Volume 3 Cross Time Capers TP, $15.99 X-Men Gold #24, $3.99 MOONSTONE Golden Amazon Prose Novel HC, $21.95 Golden Amazon Prose Novel SC, $11.95 MYMOVIEMONSTERS.COM Scary Monsters Presents Monster Memories #26 (2018 Yearbook), $10.95 NETCOMICS Chiro Volume 9 The Star Project GN, $11.99 Dreams Of The Days GN, $16.99 Give To The Heart Memories Volume 3 GN, $11.99 Sweet Blood Volume 9 GN, $11.99 ONI PRESS Guerillas Volume 4 TP, $19.99 Rick And Morty Pocket Like You Stole It TP, $19.99 RENEGADE ARTS ENTERTAINMENT Hope #1 (One Shot), $11.99 SANCTUM PRODUCTIONS Shadow Double Novel Volume 127 SC, $14.95 SCOUT COMICS Solar Flare Season Two #5, $3.99 SEVEN SEAS ENTERTAINMENT Absolute Duo Volume 3 GN, $12.99 Centaur's Life Volume 14 GN, $13.99 Devils And Realist Volume 14 GN, $12.99 Don't Meddle With My Daughter Volume 3 GN, $12.99 Mononoke Sharing Volume 1 GN, $12.99 New Game Volume 1 GN, $13.99 Soul Liquid Chambers Volume 1 GN, $12.99 There's A Demon Lord On The Floor Volume 5 GN, $12.99 TITAN PUBLISHING GROUP Doctor Who Ghost Stories TP, $16.99 Doctor Who The Twelfth Doctor Time Trials Volume 1 The Terror Beneath TP, $16.99 Last Stand HC, $22.99 Lost Fleet Volume 1 Corsair TP, $16.99 Millennium The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest TP, $19.99 Robotech #8 (Cover A Simon Roy), $3.99 Robotech #8 (Cover B Blair Shedd Action Figure Variant), $3.99 Robotech #8 (Cover C Claudia SG Iannicello), $3.99 Sherlock Holmes The Red Tower MMPB, $14.95 Tales From The Sea Of Thieves HC, $29.95 Way Of Tank Girl HC, $14.99 VALIANT ENTERTAINMENT Ninja-K #5 (Cover A Trevor Hairsine), $3.99 Ninja-K #5 (Cover B Lucas Troya), $3.99 Ninja-K #5 (Cover C Tomas Giorello Interconnecting Variant), AR Ninja-K #5 (Cover D Philip Tan Ninjak Icon Variant), AR Ninja-K #5 (Cover E Tonci Zonjic Pre-Order Edition Variant), AR Quantum And Woody #4 (Cover A Julian Totino Tedesco), $3.99 Quantum And Woody #4 (Cover B Geoff Shaw Extreme Ultra-Foil Variant), $3.99 Quantum And Woody #4 (Cover C Geoff Shaw Extreme Ultra-Foil Chase Variant), AR Quantum And Woody #4 (Cover D Fred Hemeck Q&W Icon Variant), AR Quantum And Woody #4 (Cover E Nick Pitarra Pre-Order Edition Variant), AR VERTICAL COMICS Flying Witch Volume 5 GN, $10.95 VIZ MEDIA Children Of The Whales Volume 3 GN, $12.99 Golden Kamuy Volume 4 GN, $12.99 YEN ON Durarara Light Novel Volume 9 SC, $14.00 Irregular At Magic High School Light Novel Volume 7 SC, $14.00 Magical Girl Raising Project Light Novel Volume 3 SC, $14.00 RE:Zero Starting Life In Another World Ex The Dream Of The Lion King Light Novel Volume 2 SC, $14.00 Saga Of Tanya The Evil Light Novel Volume 2 SC, $14.00 So I'm Spider So What Light Novel Volume 2 SC, $14.00 Spice And Wolf Light Novel Volume 19 SC, $14.00 YEN PRESS ACCA 13-Territory Inspection Department Volume 2 GN, $15.00 Forbidden Scrollery Volume 2 GN, $13.00 Graineliers Volume 2 GN, $13.00 Horimiya Volume 10 GN, $13.00 Is It Wrong To Try To Pick Up Girls In A Dungeon Days Of Goddess Volume 1 GN, $13.00 Kiss And White Lily For My Dearest Girl Volume 5 GN, $13.00 Spice And Wolf Volume 15 GN, $13.00 ZENESCOPE ENTERTAINMENT Musketeers #2 (Of 5)(Cover A Igor Vitorino), $3.99 Musketeers #2 (Of 5)(Cover B Robert Atkins), $3.99 Musketeers #2 (Of 5)(Cover C Alfredo Reyes), $3.99 Musketeers #2 (Of 5)(Cover D Canaan White), $3.99 Robyn Hood The Curse #3 (Of 6)(Cover A Riviero), $3.99 Robyn Hood The Curse #3 (Of 6)(Cover B Julius Abrera), $3.99 Robyn Hood The Curse #3 (Of 6)(Cover C Noah Salonga), $3.99 Robyn Hood The Curse #3 (Of 6)(Cover D Sheldon Goh), $3.99 GAMES ALC STUDIO Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal Board Game, AR IDW GAMES Atari's Missile Command Game, AR Legend Of Korra Pro-Bending Arena Amon's Invasion Game, AR Legend Of Korra Pro-Bending Arena Game, AR Slap Cat Game, AR TOYS - T-SHIRTS & COLLECTIBLES 300 Queen Gorgo 1/6 Scale Action Figure, AR Ajin Demi Human Izumi Shimomura And Ibm 1/8 Scale PVC Figure, AR Batman The Animated Series The Joker Expressions Action Figure Pack, AR Bob's Burgers Collectible 5 Pack Figure Set , AR Comic Unreal Nure-Suke Devil Volume 50 Cover Girl 1/6 Scale Figure (Blue Version), AR Comic Unreal Nure-Suke Devil Volume 50 Cover Girl 1/6 Scale Figure (Red Version), AR DC Comics Joker Bats 5 Pack Short Comic 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[clubpheiyngphxn]

๒/Peplvm Magazine presented NARCISSE.

Modelled by Kit Butler.

Lensed by Anthony Meyer.

Styled by Aurore Donguy.

Hair by Robin Navarro-Harraga.

Make-up by Fanny Maurer.

Attired by Jitrois, Paul & Joe, Lydia Courteille, Homme Plissé Issey Miyake, Leather Crown, Norma Kamali, Agnes B., Andrea Crews, Cerruti Paris 1881, Delphine-Charlotte Paramentier and Dior Homme.

[jinsoulsscalp]

TONI quidditch version

GENERAL INFO

full name: antonia park name origin: her parents liked the way it sounded nickname: toni    does she like the nickname? she prefers it birthdate: january 29th age: 17 place of birth: tinworth, england ethnic background: south korean current town: tinworth, england    does she live with anyone? her parents pets: n/a sexuality: lesbian

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

height: 5′6 weight: 142 lbs body type: strong, athletic, curvy eye color: brown    any extra medical devices? n/a prominent features: strabismus faceclaim: cl general health: healthy    any notable ailments? n/a natural hair color: black current hair color: brown default hair style: medium length, straight, with bangs

LANGUAGE

accents: west country/southwest british accent vocal tone: confident, enthusiastic favorite words: cUSS WORDS TBH spoken languages: english, korean, mandarin

BEHAVIOR

bad habits: cracking her knuckles    are any of these addictions? n/a other habits: doing a lap of a room before sitting down/getting comfortable skills/talents: defensive magic / duelling magic hobbies: learning new spells current career path/ambition: auror (or, worst case scenario, bounty hunter) current class schedule: defense against the dark arts, charms, transfiguration, potions, herbology, history of magic, ancient runes extra curriculars: gryffindor prefect, quidditch (gryffindor captain & chaser), leader of the new dumbledore’s army, member of the duelling club

RELATIONSHIPS

parents names: brentley park (father, member of the international confederation of wizards); doris park (mother, improper use of magic office employee) siblings: n/a other notable familial relationships: distant cousin of benjamin jo, granddaughter of death eaters relationship status: single    any significant previous romantic partners? n/a best friends: braeden hamilton, onyx moon, joshua eom, brynn kang    any other close friends? bethany jung, casey chae, remi elliot. gabriel lim, justice pyo enemies: benjamin jo, river hong    anyone else they generally dislike? naomi woo, faye suh

ATTITUDE AND BELIEFS

psychological issues: ptsd optimist or pessimist: realist meyers briggs personality type: enfj-a any prejudices: blood supremacists greatest strength: her enthusiasm greatest flaw: her stubbornness biggest regret: cutting off her extended family so quickly proudest accomplisment: reforming dumbledore’s army biggest secret: her lineage and connection to the death eaters    does anyone know this secret? benjamin

MAGIC STUFF

blood status: pureblood house: gryffindor wand: 10′ blackthorn wand with a thunderbird tail feather core boggart: herself in death eater garb next to voldemort

FAVORITES

food: chocolate frogs drink: chocolate milk color: red book: a history of magic possession: her wand class: defense against the dark arts

[wizardsuniterpg]

CHARACTER BASICS

Name: Her Grace Alter Ingrid Meira, Baroness of Greenock and Blackhall Date of Birth: May 1, 1985 Place of Birth: Petah Tikva, Israel Actual Age/Age of appearance: 34/30 Marital Status: Happily married Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, female leaning Pronouns: She/Her Religion: Pagan Health details: Undiagnosed mental issues regarding empathy, untreatable dysmorphic and aging issues due to repeated and prolonged exposure to dark magic, mild nearsightedness in her left eye Occupation: Former Hit Wizard (retired), task force member, head of estate for the Barony of Greenock and Blackhall

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION (OR WRITE A COUPLE PARAGRAPHS)

Height: 6’ Eye Color: Dark brown Hair Color/Style: Dark brown Aesthetic/Style: Tweed, 1910s-20s vintage, hunting clothes and “country attire,” a rocks glass with two centimetres of scotch at the bottom, rolling green hills, a disappearance in a crowded nightclub, a cold night with two people grasping each other tightly Other: There were some tattoos, no one’s sure where they went. Play-By Used: Gal Gadot

BACKGROUND AND CHARACTER

It was all decided for her.

When her mother took her at barely six months and moved with her pagan collective to Alonissos in the Sporades to be one with nature and worship in her own way, it was all Alter knew. She was happy growing up among the mothers and daughters of Alonissos, among the magical creatures and the various wildlife of Greece. The magic they did through rituals and understanding, the education, all of it was intense, but also highly supportive.

And then the representatives came.

Israel is still located in something of an active area, the result of numerous magical conflicts, mythology, and traditions that spread out from the cradle of civilization. At eighteen, all eligible birth citizens are required to do at least one year’s service with the Wards, a defensive unit designed to protect the nation from the numerous human and otherwise magical threats. As several of Mater Meira’s adherents were originally from there, their daughters had come of age and were to serve their time in the Wards. They could resist, but that would mean a standoff and an incident with the wizarding government of Israel. So Alter and the other daughters left their land for their “homeland” and an uncertain fate. 

It was odd, her tour. Alter and her “sisters” had never been so close to dark magic, and the intense environment tended to warp things, to say nothing of the near-constant culture shock both from a new home and significantly different demographics from the all-woman island. With her advanced aptitude, Alter managed to transfer from active duty to combat instruction, training Wards for their field missions and active defense rather than being on the lines themselves, but after an incident involving an uncontained dybbuk left her base short-staffed and Alter and her students having to buy time until help arrived, she was transferred back into defense operations. Out of a desire to care for her squadmates and defend her current home, she ran two years on city defense, pushing herself further into danger so those with her would be less affected. It had a profound effect on her both physically and mentally, and at the end of it, she counted down the days and left. 

With a desire for anywhere else, Alter traveled around and learned what she could as she went, backpacking her way north through Asia, into Russia, and then west into Europe, never settling down, never quite figuring things out until, after a year or two of travel, she reached England. She was out of money and didn’t have many friends, just an odd command of the language and her magical talents, but with the world still reeling from encroaching darkness, she wanted to help where she’d be most useful, got a work visa, and took the civil service exam for the Ministry.

Halfway through the exam, she was removed when a background check pulled up her Wards service. She was instead brought in front of the Aurors, interrogated for about six hours as to why she was in the country until they were sure she wasn’t a spy, and offered a choice: Immediate deportation, or a chance to work with the Ministry and correct some of the numerous pockets of dark magic that had gone wrong. With no other options, Alter accepted, was issued full immigration status under the name “Ingrid Meyer,” and was sent to train with a squad of four other wizards to become a Hit Wizard.

For years, that was her life. She had a normal life, hung out with work colleagues, and was bright and effervescent as can be, committed to living life to the fullest every step of the way outside of work. When they were on assignment, though, two things happened:

First, no matter what, if any of the other four ran into trouble, Alter would immediately put herself between them and whatever it was. Didn’t matter if it was horrifying fungus, curses, or anything, on assignment Alter considered her squad under her wing and you did not mess with anyone she cared for. The second thing was that she was oddly able to turn herself off. She almost became another person, like someone flipped a switch, able to do absolutely anything and everything to get the job done. It was honestly a bit scary, even to the ministers above her, and some even quietly whispered that they were sending her team on more dangerous assignments in the hopes that she might be rotated out.

And it was her last assignment, of course, that would prove the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was supposed to be routine, a simple raid on a small agrarian island, round up the blood cultists and off to Azkaban, but someone was tipped off, and someone knew her hit squad’s playbook, right down to Alter. It turned into first a hostage situation and then an all-out siege, a massive and unpleasant skirmish through the dark woods with no way off the island. The strength of curses and dark magic warped the land itself, and at the end while the cultists were finally defeated, it was at great cost to the Ministry.

Alter, of course, was immediately taken off of active service and given a full exam from St. Mungo’s. There were some odd issues (she’s never been able to deal with intoxicants quite the same way, as they have a much more pronounced effect on her), and she’d inexplicably grown larger somehow, but apart from that, there wasn’t anything too distressing, apart from, again, the odd way she was suddenly able to switch herself off and on. Still, they didn’t feel good putting her back on active service, and instead offered her early retirement and a land and title in Scotland out of bravery and service. Alter, without many other options, accepted.

And finally, she felt free. She changed her name back to the one she preferred, keeping “Ingrid” as a middle name to explain why people called her that, and accepted her retirement graciously. Alter set about fixing things up on the estate, stocking it with magical creatures and regular creatures alike, also developing part of the land so she could raise cows and sheep. Without the need to switch off, she seemed much more at peace, entertaining guests, being her bright and odd self, babbling constantly and treating every guest like they were her best friend and family. She also adopted a much different aesthetic, attiring herself more to her claimed home’s vast countryside and incorporating older styles, things she’d seen in books, and generally what she could find as “country attire.“ 

Through the end of her service and retirement, she’d had more than a few people show interest in her, though for a while she’d managed to completely confound several people by, when asked if she’d like to come back to their place, smiling politely and asking, ”…why?“ She had her fill of nights where she wasn’t lonely, of course, a few men and even more women, but nothing particularly stuck. But one person stuck out above all the rest. With her, Alter never felt like she had to be anything, like she had to do anything other than what the two of them wanted. She was the last person Alter told before leaving for the fateful island, the first person Alter told she was okay when she got back, a constant guest at the country manor where Alter kept her estate, using occasional hunting and fishing to stave off the darker urges and always on the list at every party.

But while the two connected on some level, they stayed apart, Alter never wanting to infect her closest friend and confidante with the odd distance, with that darkness. But one day, about a year or two after Alter took her title, her friend confided something: First, that she’d been proposed to but she didn’t want to accept, and second, that she felt some odd ties and weight to Alter. Alter agreed, and the two decided that a month or two would be enough space to figure things out. Finally, after two months, Alter took a rather odd step. Rather than apparating, she flew her hunting hipogriff to her friend’s house in her shooting clothes and, once let inside, offered a proposition: She was an eccentric, but that worked, and she would love for the two of them to be eccentric together, but wouldn’t push it. If the eccentricity was too much, she’d leave her friend space and the two of them could go back to what they had.

In a scene that’s become a major joke and a minor source of embarrassment for Alter, the two rode off back to Alter’s manse and agreed they’d rather be eccentric together than apart. Arrangements were made for a small elopement and a civil partnership a few weeks later, and while her friend’s family did sort of disapprove of her marrying a wild and eccentric immigrant, Alter’s demeanor and stature was enough to convince them it wasn’t a mutable statement. The two resumed reading to each other nightly, gardening, practicing duels, enjoying their lands, and life in general

This peace lasted until, with the resurgence of magic, another representative came to Alter’s home. This one she sent packing, and the next two, but the fourth from the Ministry wasn’t asking. They needed her back, as there was a possibility that the recent statute breaches had dark origins. Alter agreed to join, but it caused numerous arguments between herself and her spouse, as well as worry that Alter would be thrown back into danger headfirst. But Alter knows danger always comes sooner or later, and she wants to stop it before it gets to those she cares for.

Connections:  - Alter’s spouse, the two of them live on a manse in Scotland in Alter’s barony and enjoy being eccentric nobility together, I’m leaving a lot of it open other than their marriage, that they’re relatively non-toxic with each other, and the broken engagement.

- Ministers and investigative aurors as well as other hit witches and wizards who would remember Alter from her time in the Ministry and probably have a great many thoughts about her reactivation. 

Future plot ideas: Alter’s "dark side” getting a little out of control, tensions between her home life and her job at the ministry, her past catching up with her, intrigue with dark wizards, a family reunion of some sort.

FAMILY

Mother: Miriam Simcha Meira Father: Unknown Siblings: Numerous “sisters"  Pets: Lys, her Irish setter, Bladeclaw the Terror, her hunting hipogriff Children: None Spouse: Open, but there is one.

MAGICAL

Wand: Willow, Dragon Heartstring, 15” Basic education: Received a pagan education in magic and wand use until eighteen Higher/other education: Combat/hex/curse training during her time in the Wards Lineage: Blooded, but unsure of how much. She’s never found any info on her father Skills: Hexes, curses, in general dueling spells, some minor memory charms and the like as well. Objects: A petrified piece of the willow tree her wand comes from

SOME FACTS

Smoking: Not a great idea, she doesn’t know how her body will react Drinks Alcohol: Very small amounts Worst Habit: Bites her nails Most Common Misconception about them: That she’s some kind of avenging angel or Darth Vader figure Biggest Fear: That the dark, switched-off part of her she used for her work will win Greatest Strength: Has never let anything stand in her way Greatest Weakness: Way too overconfident and throws herself into danger far too easily Weapons: Apart from her wand, she’s fairly capable at hand-to-hand and is something of a trained savant when it comes to knowledge and recall

INTIMATE FACTS

One Wish: Settle down, world peace, live her own life Greatest Secret? She keeps her lives very separate, maybe one or two people know both parts of her Ideal Kiss? Quiet hours of the morning, just before waking Sleeps In? Sometimes, when she can Virgin? Hardly What turns them on? A deep emotional and intimate connection with someone

RANDOM FACTS

Most Uttered Phase/Word? “Oh! Sorry…” Tends to Always? Apologize even when she doesn’t have to Is Ticklish? Gaia, yes Oddest Thing? Probably her practicing paganism Most likely to find them? Buried in a book, sprawled over some furniture in an odd way, just in general trying to get comfortable Knows they’re really sorry if? Touch combined with words. It’s the easiest way to discern between apologies.

[hellcheer-munson]

I was tagged by @madelienepotter

Rules: Put your music library on shuffle, list the first ten songs that come up, then tag 10 people.

(Some of these are super embarrassing holy fuck)

1. Rihanna - Rude Boy 2. Glee Cast - Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend/Material Girl 3. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - O’ Children 4. War - Slipping into Darkness 5. High School Musical soundtrack - What I’ve been looking for 6. August Rush soundtrack/Jonathan Rhys Meyers - Bach/Break 7. The Dust Bros/Fight Club soundtrack - Jack and Marla Joy 8. Sam Tsui - Hold it Against Me 9. OneRepublic - Let’s Hurt Tonight 10. Glee Cast - We Will Rock You

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin @katiehavok @loon-whisperer @ravens-and-writings @butcherroy @butwemadethemcocoa @newtandtinainsidethesuitcase @tina-goldstn @hellomynamisnewt @american-auror-story