#Magical Creatures [Dementors]
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James: Lyall, why is there a huge pair of rusty iron scissors on the dresser in Teddyâs room?
Lyall: Don't close those.
James: Yeah they're rusted to hell I don't think I could if I tried. What are they for?
Lyall: Ward off the faeries so they don't kidnap my grandson.
James:
James: Thatâs valid.
#just a lil peek into what kinda dude i imagine lyall is#lyall lupin worked in the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures#he was THE WORLD RENOWNED authority on non-human spirituous apparitions#that includes things like boggarts and dementors in addition to creatures like faeries or poltergeists and ghosts and shit#this fucker believes the myths and knows theyre real and knows how to take care of those things#he absolutely filled his house with protective shit to ward off those kinds of creatures#hes so funny#jeddy fanfic wip#lyall lupin#teddy lupin#james sirius potter#jeddy#remus lupin#hope howell#hope lupin#harry potter next gen#hp next gen#harry potter#next gen headcanons#albus severus potter#james potter
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By PlannerforWizards on Etsy
https://www.etsy.com/shop/Plannerforwizards
#harry potter#severus snape#draco malfoy#ron weasley#hermione granger#stickers#bellatrix lestrange#dementor#golden trio#mirror of erised#slytherin#gryffindor#magic creatures#magical artifacts#potions#sticker sheets#hogwarts#plannerforwizards#etsy#etsyshop#etsyseller
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New fic (2 chapters up!): Hope is the thing with feathers x
Summary: The month before the invasion of Normandy (D-Day), Newt Scamander is spotted working suspicious magic near a meeting of Muggle and Wizarding political leaders in London. The problem, of course, is that Newt Scamander is nowhere near London but, instead, over 14,000 kilometers away in the middle of the Pacific. But "desperate times call for desperate measures" (and even Tina and Theseus aren't entirely above scrutiny this go round), so Newt finds himself rather unsurprisingly compromised. // As usual, everyone else is dismayed to find Dumbledore may or may not have a plan at all, while the clock on Newt's lifeâ-and the joint Muggle-Wizard military action years in the makingâ-begins to quickly tick.
Chapter 1 opening scene:
Wednesday, May 3, 1944 / Seatown, Dorset, England, UK
Porpentina Goldstein Scamander prided herself on being somewhat unflappable, but her brother-in-law grabbing her by the arm as she emerged from St. Mungoâs with her daughter before spinning them off in a whirl of apparition was certainly not on the list of things she had been expecting to encounter on her day off... A vomiting child, a misbehaving diricawlâeven an absent husband or Muggle airstrikeâsheâd prepared for, but this?
Well, suffice it to say, she definitely blamed nearly bursting into tears after smacking Theseus upside the head upon their rematerialization in Dorset on the exhaustion inherent to solo-parenting an ill toddler.
âWhat the hell, Theseus?!â
But Theseus only shushed her, dragged her and Leoraâwho was understandably wailing in displeasure at the surprise apparitionâup the back-steps of the Scamander Goldstein farmhouse, before gingerly disentangling her arms from Leora while shouting for Queenie and Jacob. It was, however, a broadly grinning, 9-year-old Gideon who came pounding into the room, before he took one look at his uncleâs face and immediately ran out the front door to the beach, screaming for his parents.
âI swear to high heaven, Theseus Scamanderâwhat is going on?!â
Theseus bounced Leora on his hip and wordlessly summoned a plush toy from her room to distract her (a niffler made by Queenie for her birthday) as he focused on Tina intently. âYou remember how we made that little emergency plan last year? After Newt was bitten by that kelpieââ
âMoira,â Tina supplied absently.
âYes, Moira â and then he was criminally charged with all sorts of made-up things by that rat in his own department, which put our entire task forceâs security at risk?â
âYes,â said Tina with a suspicious frown, and she reached out to take Leora back from her uncle, crossing to the kitchen for the small refrigerator, where she pulled out a pyrex container of fruit Newt had chopped and charmed for freshness before heâd left to travel.
Theseus stared at her as if waiting for the other shoe to drop andâafter a momentâit abruptly did.
âNow, wait a secondââ
She summoned the pair of child-sized earmuffs Lally had made to silence adult voices and shoved them onto Leoraâs head before settling her in a high chair and dumping the fruit out on its tray. Leora began talking to herself as she played with the fruit, and when Tina looked back to him, Theseus was grimacing.
âAre you kidding me?â
âUnfortunately not, sister mineâŠâ he answered grimly.
âIs this all because of the thing last year, then?â
âMore like the thing next month, but seeing as thatâs also related⊠Yes.â
Tina peered out the window to check if Queenie and Jacob were responding to their sonâs summons yet, but the only thing in sight was one of Newtâs half-trained half-kneazles innocently gamboling through the grasses (though a mildly predatory look flitted across its face). X
#my stuff#fic: hope is the thing with feathers#later in storyline ofâŠ#fic: with its head under one wing#please do consider telling me if you like it â my brain is so nervous abt this verse bc Iâm stuck on a chapter of Head Under One Wing đ
đ
#newt scamander#tina goldstein#Theseus Scamander#autistic newt scamander#jewish tina goldstein#Queenie goldstein#Jacob Kowalski#albus Dumbledore#oc ch: leora evangeline goldstein scamander#Scamander brothers#newtina#dementors#magical creatures#fantastic beasts fanfic#fantastic beasts and where to find them
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Y'all are aware of that 10 hour Harry Potter retrospective but the thing that gets me the most out of that whole thing that I never considered when reading the series is that wizards can obviously chose to adhere to the Statute of Secrecy but like... Magical creatures can't make that choice and Fantastic Beasts literally starts with Newt chasing down a rogue niffler, meaning that muggles probably frequently encounter magical creatures. There's no way that muggles and magical creatures could reasonably be segregated- Hermione's cat is half magical creature so how many muggle cats are also half neasel?
Like why on earth would you invent a world in which you have scores of animals, and also plants, that cannot reasonably consent to secrecy from muggles and the excuse of witch trials falls flat when actual magic exists that should factor into how those witch trials play out but never seems to come up. Anyway, the most unrealistic thing about a universe with magic and dragons and shit is that muggles would somehow never run into and remember a magical creature, there's zero way the wizards could catch every muggle who has seen something and obliviate them that's a herculean task designed to fail I refuse to believe no nifflers have ever stolen some muggles shit enough that they'd know what them little bastards were.
#winters ramblings#also why would creatures like centaurs who dont like wizards have to not talk to muggles?? its not like wizard treat them well#for them to fear muggle discrimination. why would THEY bother?? house elves?? no human has ever seen one??#Tolkien saw a house elf thats why gollum looks like that. like NO WAY through the ENTIRETY of the post SoS#that EVERY muggle who has seen magical creatures has been sufficiently mind wiped#also the dursleys clearly know about wizards and magic so how is it that the muggles of muggleborn kids#never seem to factor into the worlds politics?? what do THEY think of not being able to warn their other family#of the hreat of dark wizards?? what do they think of all those muggles being obliviated?? surely theyd be keenly aware#that if they leave their wizard partner its ENTIRELY PROBABLE that THEIR minds will be wiped??#H O W does this group of people have no voice in the series??!? like did hermione just never tell her parents#about that time DEMENTORS were guarded hogwarts from a mass murderer?? like Sirius was innocent but ???#did they not think they should have a right to have their magical kid educated WITHOUT happiness sucking monsters#and actual mass murderers PLUS dark wizards??!? what did THEY think of the slave house elves??#i want a story from THAT point of view and also how do these people not play into the worlds politics??#no way that the mugfles that DO know about wizards would be FINE eith having no say#and also magical creatures are 200% walking into people's gardens and eating shit#some mugfle is out there shitting bricks watching a hippogriff eat their roses and snapping pics#with their 1998 kodiak camera
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Iâve been listening to endrinas the language of flowers fic, and in the authors notes of chapter 1 of part three, they mention how the book never explained how Sirius got his wand back, and my immediate reaction was âI always assumed they never bothered to take it off himâ.
#anyway point is: new universe hc.#Azkaban is a magic dead zone so#they donât even bother to take wands of prisoners#in part two endrinas wrote about how lax their security is outside of the cells because of the dementors and prisoners becoming either#completely dispondant or insane and escape isnât really conceivable#so having their wands still kinda follows that logic I guess#the only magic that can exist are inate ones like creature transformationsâ lycanthropy and animagus (?) or creator characteristics#ie Being A Dementor or like#being veela or half giant#which are all magical creatures#but being in a magical dead zone wouldnât mean the complete ceasing of their existence#unless of course we are existing within a universe like stardust where thatâs exactly what happens#anyway#fun thoughts#this is a post from like a year ago I never published but also itâs something I think about a lot so here#have it
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Theodore Nott and the Fortress of Trust Issues: how to cast a patronus in 3 easy steps
Theodore Nott x reader
Summary: Theodore Nott had never been able to cast a patronus. In third year, when dementors were swarming the castle, of course he tried, but was never able to manage more than a whisp of soft silver. Come seventh year, he was painfully unsurprised when his efforts were once again lack luster. Turns out, with the right tutor, casting the formidable charm might not be as impossible as he thought.
word count: 3.8k
Â©ïž obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Theodore glowered menacingly at the students below him chattering happily amongst themselves in the courtyard. A puff of smoke slipping through his lips as he leaned on the railing of the astronomy tower. Theo knew his life wasnât exactly one that most would be envious of. Sure his family had money, power, but add on a mother who had died far before her time, and a death eater father whose attention it was far better to avoid? Theo laughed dryly to himself.
Theo knew he didnât have many happy memories. Truly happy memories. He was painfully, excruciatingly, self aware. Still, nothing made it quite so glaringly obvious that his life was rather pathetic than broadcasting to his entire charms class his bitter inability to force even a wisp of silvery bloody smoke out of his bloody wand. Yes. Flitwick had finally found his weakness. That damned Patronus spell. Being one of the top students of his year, it was humiliating. It wasnât even expected that most of the class would be able to cast a corporeal patronus, yet even Draco and Matteo of all people managed to produce soft billowy clouds of silvery magic.
Theo shook his head at the thought, trying to clear his mind. His eyes once again began gazing about the courtyard before landing on a lone figure sitting beneath a willow tree, hidden from view unless one was looking close enough. Theo brought his smoke to his lips once more, inhaling deeply as he watched a burst of silver leave the tip of the girlâs wand. His eyes darkened with envy, remembering the words of his professor from earlier that day.
âWonderful, y/n. Just wonderful! A fox! Withdrawn when necessary, but natural adaptors. Embodying intelligence, independence, mischief, and beauty. A unique patronus indeed.â
His eyes narrowed as he watched the silver creature trot happily through the air before turning and dropping his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it harshly. With one last glance at the girl sitting awestruck with her silvery companion, he descended down the stairs, determined to spend the rest of his night, moping in peace.
Step 1: Find a Pretty Tutor (read: have a tutor forced upon you under the threat of a failing grade.)
âWhat do you mean a tutor? You of all people?â Matteo laughs mercilessly as Theo scowls at him. âCanât believe Iâm doing better than you in a class, you must be bloody miffed.â
Theo tuned out his friendâs laughter as he continued to glower at the floor in front of him. The two boys currently sat in the Slytherin common room as Theo hastily tried to finish up his ancient runes homework before dragging his arse to the library to meet his supposed tutor. Matteo was making this quite difficult however as he continued to poke fun at the boy, rattling on about how, for once, Theo had had the nerve to not be good at something. The horror.
Snapping his textbook closed and sliding it into his book bag, Theo began gathering his things, choosing to forego the blasted assignment.
âAww, have fun with you little tutor Teddy. Maybe itâll be that foxy Ravenclaw youâre always staring at. Bit ironic that her patronus is a fox innit?â Matteo teases as he watches his friendâs jaw clench at the mention of the pretty girl.
While perhaps Matteo wasnât the most entirely perceptive of the bunch, it would take a blind man to not notice Theodoreâs eyes flicker over to the group of Ravenclaws throughout their shared charms class.
âShut up Matt. Shouldnât you be shagging Astoria in a broom closet somewhere?â He grunts out.
Matteo smirks, knowing heâd found a tick, but deciding to leave it for another time.
âNot a bad idea mate, see you later. Youâll have to tell Enzo and I all about your tutoring session tonight,â he says with a wink before sauntering off towards the girlâs dormitories.
With a heavy sigh, Theo began making his way slowly towards the library, silently cursing Professor Flitwick as he recalled their conversation from earlier that day.
Class was finally wrapping up for the day and Theo was about ready to bolt out of that blasted classroom, but Flitwick had other ideas.
âMr. Nott? A word?â Heâs called from his grand podium in the center of the room.
The summons had garnered a few raised eyebrows and surprised looks from his fellow classmates, and Theo had trudged solemnly up to the professor.
âI couldnât help but notice that you appeared to have had some difficulty today,â the professor and stated rather bluntly after all the other students had shuffled out.
Theo blinked back up at his professor.
âYou do understand of course, that I cannot grant marks for a spell you did not perform?â He asks finally.
Theo once again stares blankly back at the professor.
Appearing to grow uncomfortable under the boyâs steady, unwavering gaze, Flitwick lets out a deep sigh.
âMr. Nott. Iâm aware that you are quite the talented young wizard, and I simply do not want to have to give you low marks on an assignment Iâm confident you could perform well on.â
Still nothing from the brown haired Slytherin.
âIâve arranged for you to begin working with a tutor until youâre able to cast the spell.â He says finally.
Theo frowns. Heâs never had a tutor before. Never needed one.
âProfessor-â he begins to protest.
âThe two of you can begin later this evening. 8 oâclock in the library,â Flitwick interrupts before shooing him off to his next class.
Finally arriving outside the library doors, Theo made another look of distaste before pushing through the large double doors. His eyes gazed over the tables not entirely sure who he was looking for as the twat had never actually told him who would be tutoring him. He felt his body freeze momentarily when his eyes locked with another pair of bright eyes and he began silently cursing Matteo. The bloody fucking bastard had jinxed him.
You sat quietly at your table in the library, waiting for the clock to slowly hit 8 as you mindlessly worked away at your essay for ancient runes. During charms today, Flitwick had noticed one of your classmates have a particularly difficult time with the lesson and asked for you to guide them in the right direction. Not one to argue with your head of house, youâd easily agreed.
As the clock struck 8, you began casting quick glances every so often at the library doors, until suddenly you were locked in the gaze of none other than Theodore Nott. Surely he wasnât the one you would be tutoring? You didnât know the boy particularly well, but you did know that he was a fierce competitor for top of the class in most of your other lessons. You watched silently as he made his way over to your table, offering him a small smile.
âCharms?â He asks, tossing his bag onto the table with a gentle thud.
You give him a slight nod, eyeing his tall figure as he sat lazily across from you.
âWell Iâm sorry to break it to you, but youâll be wasting your time. Never been able to cast the damn spell. Probably never will,â he says, leaning back on the chair, eyes not wavering.
You purse your lips. Looking at the handsome boy in front of you.
âI suppose youâll just have to trust me then, wonât you?â You reply, a challenging tone apparent in your voice.
The boy smirks at this, cocking his head as if really getting a good look at you for the first time before finally replying, âIâve never been particularly trusting.â
âWell then I guess youâll be learning all sorts of things.â
You take your charms book out of your bag, opening it to the reading you had been assigned earlier in the week. You glance up to see Theodore mirroring your actions silently.
âA patronus, is a concentration of pure happiness and hope, derived from the recollection of a single talisman memory which is essential in its creation,â you read, the underlined section of the textbook was one you had pre-selected as it was the concept most people struggled to grasp.
Watching Theo stiffen and clench his jaw slightly, you knew you were right.
âWhen someone is unable to cast a patronus, Iâve found itâs usually because they havenât figured out yet how to focus in on their talisman memory,â you continue.
âAnd if someone doesnât have a talisman memory?â Theoâs voice interrupts.
You glance up at him in surprise.
âEveryone has a talisman memory. We just need to find it.â
âI donât have one.â He insists.
âThen weâll make one.â
The boy sighs in frustration. Fists clenching as he glares at the textbook in front of him.
âIt might not be as complicated as youâre making it. I know when Flitwick was in class, he made it seem like your talisman memory had to be a big, grande gesture, or a clear moment of inexplicable joy. But I think the little moments count too. Everyone has been happy at least once,â you say, watching as Theo slowly relaxes.
âWhat do you think about?â He asks, before quickly back tracking âYou donât have to answer that.â
âAll sorts of things really,â you reply, offering another small smile. âWhen I got my first wand at Ollivanderâs. Honeydukes with the rest of the Ravenclaws. Playing quidditch. Specially that time we beat Gryffindor.â
Theo snorts at that, a small grin reaching his lips.
âPoint is, it doesnât matter how small the moment is, long as it made you happy.â
Youâre met with silence, as Theo continues to stare down at his textbook, a look a deep contemplation on his face.
âThink thatâs enough for today. Flitwick said to keep up the sessions until youâre at least able to cast an incorporeal patronus, so, I suppose Iâll see you tomorrow.â
Theo nods his head, still not meeting your gaze.
âDoes 6 oâclock on the lawn work?â You ask, only to be met with another nod.
Sensing the boy needed a bit of space, you quickly gathered your things before leaving the boy to his thoughts.
Step 2: Accidentally Fall In Love with Your Tutor (if you werenât half way there already.)
You sit staring out at the vast lake in front of you, watching as the breeze pushed against the water, forming rolling waves across the surface and taking a deep breath in. You had been meeting Theodore here every day at 6 oâclock sharp for almost two whole weeks now, but you honestly werenât sure if heâd show up today. Not that youâd blame him.
You felt as if youâd really failed him as a tutor after so many consecutive days of work, with nothing to show for it. On top of that, the two of you had gotten into a rather intense shouting match yesterday, the stress of the whole thing really getting to the both of you.
You lean back, laying down on the soft blanket below you, knees still propped up, and close your eyes, thinking back to the first time the two of you had met out in this very spot. Youâd originally picked the spot, because it helped you clear your mind and you thought it might help clear Theoâs too.
That first day had been awkward. Almost painfully so. You had simply wanted to talk. Get to know the boy, pick his brain for any source of happiness or joy he might get out of life. You didnât get much, so instead you talked about your own life. What it was like living in Ravenclaw tower, the time you and Cho had tried out together for the quidditch team. You told him how you had gone to the Yule ball with a big group of friends, and how you thought it was much better than going with some stuffy date, and how your favorite candies were the purple taffies from Honeydukes, and your favorite flowers were deadly poisonous despite their pretty and innocent appearance.
The second day, you borrowed Choâs cat and brought her along to the meeting, thinking it might help further relax your brown haired companion. It did, so you brought her along the next day, and the day after that. It wasnât until the fourth day that Theo broke. Sure he had told you a bit about his time at Hogwarts. Playing on Slytherinâs quidditch team. Sharing a dorm with Matteo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire. But on the fourth day, he told you about his mother. You werenât expecting it, and it honestly had caught you wildly off guard. Theodoreâs mother had been the light of his world, and after she was gone, you could understand why he thought he would never cast a patronus.
It went on like this, the two of you gradually becoming closer, as you carefully began building a sort of trust between the two of you. You thought you might even be becoming friends; which excited you as youâd never been quite able to stop your eyes from wandering over to the group of Slytherins in the back of the class, and stopping on the tall, brunette boy with pretty eyes. You tried every couple of days to cast the spell, guiding him through different memories, trying to focus in on different experiences. But still nothing. You had even tried inviting Matteo and Enzo to a session, hoping theyâd help lighten his mood, but it only ended in the four of you skiving wildly off course and getting nothing done. You and Theo had laughed about it the next day, but still not even a whisp of silvery magic.
It had all come to a head yesterday. You could feel the two of you beginning to lose hope, but you were nothing if not determined. The two of you were sitting quietly, skimming the textbook for what seemed like the thousandth time, when Theo suddenly stopped and looked up at you.
âI read something the other day. Bout patronuses. And being able to cast em.â
You looked up from your reading, intrigued.
âSaid that thereâs a widespread, and justified, belief that witches and wizards who arenât pure of heart canât cast a patronus.â
Your mouth slowly formed an O shape, and the book you were holding dropped to the ground, completely forgotten.
âTheodore. You donât honestly think. Thatâs ridiculous.â
âIt makes sense doesnât it? Why I canât even cast an incorporeal charm. Why nothing weâve tried works. Thereâs no point,â Theo had said, growing frustrated.
âTheodore stop. That theory is all nonsense. There isnât even any evidence really to back it up,â you reply.
âWhy else would nothing be working?â Theo asks, slamming his book on the ground.
âTheo!â
âNo, y/n, honestly. What other explanation could there be. Weâve been doing this for weeks.â Theoâs voice began to rise.
âAnd weâll continue until youâre able to get this.â
âWhatâs the bloody point? Weâve tried everything!â
âAnd we just need to try a bit harder!â You respond.
âYou think I havenât been trying?â
âOf course I know youâve been trying! And Iâve been trying to do everything I can to help you succeed!â
âAnd everything Iâve been doing is for you! I donât care about the bloody charm, I donât want to disappoint you!â
Theoâs outburst had shocked you, and your breath hitched as the two of you stared at each other, Theoâs words sinking in.
Then he was kissing you. Hot lips working against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. Your fingers worked their way up to his hair, relishing in how soft his brown waves were as you tugged at them gently.
You let out a soft moan as you felt his tongue glide gently across your bottom lip before diving in at the opportunity you had provided him.
You seemed to get lost in the feeling of his soft lips and large hands around your waist holding you firmly in place. You had no idea how much time had passed by the time you were both panting for breath, foreheads resting against one another.
Seeming to really realize what heâd done, Theo looked down at you, eyes beginning to widen slightly.
âIâm so sorry, y/n,â heâd said before promptly rising and hastily making his way back to the castle.
Now, your finger tips softly brushed the soft leather of Theoâs book bag that heâd abandoned yesterday in his hurry to leave. You thought that maybe, if for no other reason, heâd perhaps come to retrieve it. Not that he needed to you thought dryly, knowing that with his Gringotts account, he couldâve easily already replaced it and its contents.
Sitting up, you glance at your time piece showing a quarter after 6. With a deep sigh, you fish your transfiguration textbook out of your bag, flipping it open to begin your assigned reading. Youâre only a few pages in when a twig snaps somewhere behind you. Whipping around, you see him standing there, handsome as ever, looking down at you.
âSorry Iâm late. And, sorry for yesterday,â he mumbles, dropping down to sit next to you.
You eye him warily as he refuses to make eye contact with you, eyes appearing to be glazed over as he gazes out at the lake like you had been earlier.
Slowly, and ever so carefully, you shift next to him so that your arms and legs brush softly, and you gently lean your head against his shoulder as you join him in looking out at the water. You feel him tense initially before slowly relaxing, leaning in as the two of you sat in silence.
âI wonât give up, if you donât,â you say finally as Theoâs hand finds yours.
Step 3: Trust
It had been a week now since that day at the lake, and you werenât quite sure where you stood anymore with Theo. You still met each other everyday by the lake, slipping easily into your usual banter. But now it was eyes meeting from across the classroom and slips of paper making their way back and forth. Your fingertips would brush softly in the hallways, and sometimes, youâd feel a hand reach out, pulling you into a hidden nook, and warm lips would meet your own. But youâd never actually, talked, about it.
You shake the thoughts out of your mind, a shiver running down your spine, as you focus in on the present. That all wasnât the reason you once again found yourself lying out on the lawn, Theoâs head resting comfortably in your lap.
âCan you cast it?â Theo asks, looking up at you.
âHmm?â
âYour patronus? Can you cast it? I know yours is a full, corporeal form.â
Looking down at the boy, your fingers weave slowly through his hair as you reach for your wand.
Closing your eyes and taking a breath, you focus in, memories flashing through your mind, a sense of warmth overtaking you.
âExpecto patronum.â The spell falls from your lips and you open your eyes to see a silver fox tumble out of the tip of your wand before trotting through the air around you.
You really did love the spell and it amazed and intrigued you every time. A reflection of someoneâs soul, your textbook had said. It could change throughout oneâs life, should they experience a shocking event, grow more mature, fall in love. The last one had always been the most curious, the idea of someone loving so much, that a piece of their soul reflected that of their loved one.
You watch as Theoâs eyes follow the the creature in awe.
âYou know this is hopeless right?â Theo asks softly, your hand in his hair freezing.
âTheodore. We agreed that-â
âBut really whatâs the point? So I get one poor mark. When am I ever going to need to use the spell really? No point in wasting time on something thatâs hopeless.â
You carefully mull over Theoâs words in your head. You supposed that realistically, he wasnât necessarily wrong practicality wise. But if you both simply gave up, would he ever want to see you again? You knew in your core that it was selfish, but the last three weeks really had been some of the best during your time at Hogwarts. Which was saying a bit considering youâd been there for almost seven years. You supposed youâd just hoped- hoped. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless. Hope. A concentration of pure happiness and hope.
âTheodore?â
âAmore?â
âWhen youâre thinking of your happy memory, why did you choose it?â
Theo gives you a strange look.
âBecause it made me happy at the time, and the talisman memory is supposed to be a happy.â
âGood. But can you tell me why itâs so important to focus on a happy memory?â
Theo blinks.
âBecause the spell says so.â
You let out a small laugh.
âBecause the whole point of the charm is to create protection from the dark. Something that will keep you safe so that you can continue to feel that happiness. To give you hope.â
Theo furrows his eyebrows and frowns.
âThis feels emotional.â He says, his face distorting in disgust.
âSometimes magic is.â
Theoâs frown deepens. âIt shouldnât be. Iâm perfectly content being apathetic and emotionally detached thanks.â
You let out a small snort. âCome on Theo. Try it again. But this time, think about your memory and why you want to feel that again.â
Theoâs face scrunches up in distaste before he sits up lazily, picking up his wand. You watch as he closes his eyes, pausing. His chest slowly rises then falls, once, twice.
âExpecto patronum.â
Nothing. Theo letâs put an annoyed sigh.
âHey, itâs okay. You can try again. Think about something that you love, make sure you can picture it clearly. Something that made you so happy that you would relive it over and over.â
Theoâs eyes flick over to you, a brow raised before he closes his eyes once again. You watch him closely, perhaps too closely, as a minute passes. Then two. Youâre almost worried heâs fallen asleep sitting up when the words fall from his lips.
âExpecto patronum.â
A burst of silver flashes out of his wand, and your jaw drops as your eyes follow the silver creature that had emerged, gracefully moving across the lawn.
Your eyes dart over to Theo, and you reach out to grab his arm seeing that heâd not yet opened his eyes again. When his eyes finally open once more, his gaze immediately falls on the whimsical creature, eyes widening slightly as he stares at his patronus in disbelief before looking at you with bewildered confusion.
âThatâs not mine.â You tell him with a small smile, giving his arm a squeeze as you both look up at the silver fox dancing through the air.
#harry potter#harry potter universe#slytherin#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#matteo riddle#theodore nott#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott x y/n#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theo nott fanfiction#theodore nott fanfiction#patronus#hogwarts au#astoria greengrass#theo nott
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Mattheo riddle Ă reader [part1]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:angst, smut, fluff
Words: 13.5k
-ËËââââââââââââââââââââââ
[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]
Dear Uncle Ben ,
Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?
Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns outâŠ.well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."
So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.
This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not â those beaks look awfully sharp).
So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help
Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,
Y/N
P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.
-ËËââââââââââââââââââââââ
After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.
-ËËââââââââââââââââââââââ
Y/N
Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.
P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).
Love,
Uncle Ben
-ËËââââââââââââââââââââââ
After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.
He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).
"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart⊠or at least numb it a bit."
I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.
"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"
I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just⊠everything. Mattheo⊠the rumors⊠the whole thing feels so stupid."
"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.
"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"
I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins â where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."
"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.
When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I⊠can I leave Hogwarts?"
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"
"I don't⊠I don't want to see him, or them, orâŠ" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.
He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."
A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think⊠could I transfer⊠maybe to Beauxbatons?"
Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"
The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.
Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.
Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out âvanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.
Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."
kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan â they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.
And itâs seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate
Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasnât the one who did that .
Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.
Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.
As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.
Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.
Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library
The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.
Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap â maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?
"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.
Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.
Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?
and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something⊠hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.
the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.
I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.
"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"
He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.
Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."
As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher â hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.
"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.
-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.
Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"
he started to speak. "I know you donât want to listenâ"
Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."
His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.
"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.
Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.
Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"
A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something⊠jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"
âApparently I did âI challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."
His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasnât surprised he knew about that ..
"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.
Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.
"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.
"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."
"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."
He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."
Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."
His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.
The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."
He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.
But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me â I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.
Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.
"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"
Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.
"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believeâŠ"
He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?â
"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"
He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world wonât survive another riddle â
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.
"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"
"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."
âEvery time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time⊠this time it feels different."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "
Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."
Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"
A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .
The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.
I saw him.
He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.
But then, our eyes met.
His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.
Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, reallyâ
Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoyâs name to come earlier.
He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ââ"
"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."
His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"
Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"
Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."
"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.
Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"
He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.
"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."
He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.
"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."
Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"
"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.
A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.
He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."
"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.â
I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.âAnd what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.
He backed away, eyes wide.
The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.
"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."
Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"
He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."
Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.
"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.
"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"
The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.
Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"
Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers
The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.
Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .
"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."
He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.
My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.
"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.
"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"
The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Canât wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.
My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.
Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.
The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.
One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.
The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.
"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.
He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."
â Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."
"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."
A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.
He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I⊠I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."
He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry⊠jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."
A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else â mattheo wasnât the one who told them about what happened .
Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the playâŠ" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. ButâŠ" I hesitated, searching for the right words.
"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."
He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you⊠forgive me?"
I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."
Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."
I smiled faintly. "Please donât do anything a normal apologize would do ."
Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs â everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.
the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo â whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book â played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.
A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.
But then I saw him.
Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.
"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.
He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.
With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."
"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.
Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."
"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.
The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."
My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me â my heart, my mind, my soul â had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.â
The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .
âbut this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."
His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.
"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."
He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me â
A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.
He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."
His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.
"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."
"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."
The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.
"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."
The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.
"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.
He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.
My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture
Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory â Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference â felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.
The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.
In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.
Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.
Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.
One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.
Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.
The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.
It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air â it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.
What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.
The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.
Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.
Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.
Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .
Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.
My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.
The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me â a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."
Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.
Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.
A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what heâs doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.
Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.
Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.
Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something â anger, maybe? â crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.
Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.
The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war â it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.
In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in â the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.
The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.
His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.
In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.
The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway â Enzo.
His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.
"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"
He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.
"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.
He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.
"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.
My heart hammered against my ribs,
"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He â He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.
Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else â a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.
"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.
Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."
Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you â
"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you⊠they're real."
A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.
"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him⊠you deserve to know the truth."
Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.
"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this⊠it's killing him. More than the illness itself."
Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference â it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while heâŠ
Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long�" My voice wouldn't form the question.
Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."
The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions â it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him⊠what?
Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"
Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."
"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."
Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just⊠don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.
Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.
I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.
The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.
A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.
The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.
Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.
Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.
Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.
With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.
Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"
He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.
"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers
His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someoneâŠ" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."
The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.
"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"
His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you⊠why did you come here like this?"
My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo⊠he told me⊠you're sick⊠I⊠I thoughtâŠ"
Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"
I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you⊠that you had a dangerous illness⊠that you didn't have long."
A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? â
"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were⊠you were dying."
"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."
My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.
"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."
His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"
"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"
Shame burned in my throat. "I⊠I was scared,"
Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.
I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.
âyou don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms
his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee
"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .
"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.
"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."
My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I⊠I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .
"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.
He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.
Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.
"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."
As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.
"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.
"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."
"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.
Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.
"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."
My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.
"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.
I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.
"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."
"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."
My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said
his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."
"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."
his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine
I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.
His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him â a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo â flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.
Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.
He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.
We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.
He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.
The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.
He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.
But then I felt it â a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realizeâŠ" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"
"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?
"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.
His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.
"That would beâŠ" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."
He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.
"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"
before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again
"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.
"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.
"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.
His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .
"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.
"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.
"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"
Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.
"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "
"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.
The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.
"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."
With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.
His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.
"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"
His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."
A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."
His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.
"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."
Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.
A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.
"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me toâŠ"
He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?
"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is⊠I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips
A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.
The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.
"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.
A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.
The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.
This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.
Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple
My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.
"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .
Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.
A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .
âIâve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,â he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.
âPlease,â I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.
"Merlin, oh, Iâ" It seemed as if I couldnât control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.
âRelax, baby, Iâve got you,â his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .
A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that Iâd never forget.
My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.
" good girl , Come for me, love,"
A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.
"Thatâs fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."
His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.
A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.
"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.
His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.
"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.
"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.
He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.
My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.
"I wonât do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.
 âIs that gonna fit?âÂ
Â
 âIâll make it fit.â He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.
He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.
âBreathe for me, baby,â Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."
A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .
As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.
It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.
âGood girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.
As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.
"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.
"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.
I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.
â Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?â
"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .
"Donât you dare bring another womanâs name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.
I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .
Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.
"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.
"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.
Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.
He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"
I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.
"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.
âââ ââ
ââ
â ââ âââ ââ
ââ
â ââ âââ ââ
ââ
BONUS SCENE.
We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration
Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile â Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?
âLook who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"
"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"
"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"
My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncleâŠ
â this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.
"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.
My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.
"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.
My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's â" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.
" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.
My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.
âyou're holding hands! "
Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."
My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"
Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."
"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."
"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?âenzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.
Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.
âââ ââ
ââ
â ââ âââ ââ
ââ
â ââ âââ ââ
ââ
Tag list :
@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff @sage-ove
#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys#mattheo smut#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle imagines#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle masterlist#mattheo riddle angst#smut#slytherin#lorenzo berkshire imagine#fluff imagines#mattheoriddle
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One of the best darkest AU. Unbelievable and true. And with the blackest humour. Really, the strangest thing. The delicious one!
The Dementorâs Child
On Ao3
Content: Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Dark Draco, Mimicking Magic, Dementors
Summary:
Curiosityâthe kind that got him hereâwas the reason his mouth opened and out came, âWhat is it you get out of stealing life from people?â
The creature floated closer and all common sense that should have told him to step back was non-existent. Instead, Harry took a step closer.
It was obvious what the creature wanted. He only stared for a moment, no hesitance before his eyes slipped closed and he took.
Or the one where Harry encounters a Dementor as a child and doesnât flee, no he sticks around and mimics what he sees.
Excerpt:
Harry didnât know how long he had walked, but it was dark out. The streetlamps didnât all turn on, only a handful working and when they did it was dim and a few blinking before not coming back on at all. He wasnât afraid of the dark, his cupboard didnât have lightâthe bulb had been taken out as a punishment a long time ago and Uncle Vernon never put it back inâbut that didnât mean he wanted to be surrounded by darkness.
The downside to silence was how jarring noise sounded when broken.
Harry froze when he heard breathing that wasnât his own. It was behind him. He liked to think he was as brave as the superheroes in Dudleyâs comics, but the sound grew closer and all he wanted to do was run, but he couldnât. Panic kept him rooted but it also made his heart beat loudly, far too loudly.
Cold.
So cold. Night brought coldness but that didnât make sense. It was the middle of summer and it shouldnât make his breath visible or cause goosebumps to rise.
The longer he stood there, the more his mind grew strange. Flashes of memories that didnât feel like his own cycled through quickly and the sound of someone screaming in the distance felt real, but he knew there wasnât anyone else around.
The screaming grew louder. It was a woman and his mind wanted to draw upon an image, but it was hazy, and nothing made sense. Harry covered his ears, but it didnât drown out a single thing.
How do you drown out voices in your head?
On Ao3
For @sailorofthessdrarry (I hope you like part one)
#harry potter#draco malfoy#favourite authors#harry potter fandom#severus snape#lucius malfoy#regulus black#sirius black#dementors#Magic#magical creatures#war against wizardkind
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23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (Longfic Edition)
Happy New Year! đ€ Here is a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2023.
I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, truly groundbreaking in some way in their approach to the ship. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of this ship existing, there's still new themes / tropes / dynamics to explore, and the authors are all so talented in making me think about the ship in some new way â just incredible examples of what it means to be a transformative work of fanfiction.
Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2023. As with a previous longfic rec list, I tried to find longer fics that were relatively under-rated (which is hard to define, but below 2K kudos for the most part).
See here for Part 1 (2023 Tomarrymort one-shots), and hope you lose many many happy hours to the unbridled joy of immersing yourself in one or more of these incredibly addictive, lovely longer fics!
*
23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 â Multi-Chaptered Fics
A Darkness by Any Other Name by river_marrow (M, 30k, WIP)Â
Decades after the war ends, Harry is thrown through the Veil, and finds himself in an alternate reality where the leader of the Muggleborn uprising is the Dark Lord Voldemort.
A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot (M, 35k, WIP)
Blood and spittle rush to follow Riddleâs words that are dragged out through a wrecked throat. âI will consume you.â Harry felt a thrill run up his spine, along with the usual fear and anger that accompanied Voldemort's threats. âBe gentle, I can feel your soul ripping its stitches.â
And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)
When Harry looks at Tom, he feels overwhelmed. There is a spark that makes him hopeful, the fear that nothing he does will save Tom from himself, and the horror at what his lies might lead to. When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harryâs world starts drowning in blood.
At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)
"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted."
Bitumen by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 32k, WIP)
Harry finds out the hard way that Dementors canât digest Horcruxes. Now separated from his body, his best option is to seek out a similar soul for help. A love story about immortals with too much time to kill.
Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 25k, WIP)
Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.
Exceeding Expectations by @mosiva (E, 56k, complete)
Harry Potterâs life ran along very different lines than Tom Riddleâs. He knew nothing more of the man than he read in the Daily Prophet. Then they get stuck in a lift together.
Exegesis by liquoricepantomime (M, 38k, WIP)
In exchange for peace, Voldemort asks for Harry Potter. And so, there is a new legacy that forms â of The-Boy-Who-Was-Sold, and his childhood spent in a castle, with a man who has killed his parents. A man who is mad, and whose ire reigns fiery hell. A man he will marry, and yet knows nothing about.
found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)
Tom knows from the beginning that he is destined for greatness. Nothing and no one will stop him from achieving his goals. (And then, of course, there are the dreams.)
hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (E, 21k, WIP)
Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.
if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 277k, complete)
When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy.
Lover's Spit by @blogalinda & @k3uuu (E, 123k, WIP)
Following his father's arrest on a dull hot Sunday in North Yorkshire, 10-year-old Tom Riddle becomes a dark internet sensation. If Harry Potter listened to his father, he would never speak to Riddle again. But eight years after the arrest, an unexpected and painful encounter leads Harry to reconsider events â and arrive at a conclusion all his own.Â
One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 189k, WIP)
A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case.
Oversight by @dividawrites (E, 21k, WIP)
Voldemortâs resurrection ritual doesnât go as smoothly as heâd planned. He requires assistance and thereâs only one person he can askâthe boy tied to his fatherâs gravestone.
Paved With the Best Intentions by @perhaps-sunlight (M, 113k, WIP)
Instead of dying during the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort de-ages into an infant. Until he becomes old enough to be legally executed, he will be magically bound to Harry.
Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 68k, WIP)Â
Harry and Voldemort find themselves locked up in a mysterious prison in an A/B/O alternate universe setting.
Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 110k, WIP)
In a Voldemort Wins AU, Harry Potter was spared, and enters his seventh year at Hogwarts wanting to do Arithmancy research and keep his head down. However, after a chance encounter, it looks like it may not be so simple. Marvolo Gaunt seems to have his eye on Harry. The trouble is, Harry has no idea why.Â
Tender Reigns Our Night by @noumena-writes (M, 93k, WIP)
Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort â using any means necessary. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's, examining dark artefacts and desperately trying to fulfil his orders.
the demiurge, the leontoeides by @ramabear (E, 125k, WIP)
Thomas Gaunt reaches through the dimensions and plucks an eleven-year-old Harry Potter from his world and brings him home again.
the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP)Â
Thereâs a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The manâs green eyes fix on Tomâs face, searching and searching. âMy name is Harry Gaunt,â the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, âand Iâm here to adopt you.â
the righteous dead by @aspengray (T, 23k, WIP)
Harry is resurrected, sewn together with thread and magic. He remembers nothing except that he loves his savior, a man named Voldemort.
The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 33k, WIP)
Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges up to Voldemortâs eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light. He is wondering if somehow the fruitless tugging on his heart means that somewhere, some way, Tom is watching over him.Â
With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 157k, WIP)
A Hunger Games-AU featuring Harry and Tom as competing champions. Harry has a saving people thing. Itâs not conducive to surviving a battle royale. He doesnât fancy his chances. Especially against Tom Riddle.
*
#tomarry#harrymort#tomarrymort#tomarry recs#tomarrymort recs#hp fic recs#longfic recs#ao3 recs#fanfic recs#harrymort recs#2023 reads#2023 recs
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Percy and Oliver learning how to cast patronuses
Iâm not sure what Percyâs would be (Lowkey could be a horse? I discovered horses can represent personal drive, passion, and a strong motivation to carry oneself)
But Oliver defies all magical laws. His is not an animal or a magical creature. His is a quaffle
Oliver: neat! the quaffle can burst through the dementorâs head or something
Percy: what the fuck
#harry potter#percy weasley#oliver wood#perciver#if you squint#ngl if I have Percy and Oliver together in a post the chances are itâs always gonna be perciver#sue me#i believe that Oliverâs would be a qualifie bc quidditch would save that man#Oliver told me himself#patronus#hp spells
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A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. Murderer.
Word Count:Â 14,1k
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader
Genre:Â Action, Romance, Smut
Summary:Â Your typical-ish âbreaking Sebastian out of Azkabanâ fic with a bit of angst sprinkled in, but also porn with some plot to put a cheery on top.
Authors Note: Use of MC. Iâm sure there are mistake but oh well, otherwise please enjoy my twist on a classic Sebastian Sallow fic. I say classic as it feels like one to me.
Steady breaths. Steady breaths. Steady. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out.
ââIt's rather odd.ââ a pause follows ââThey usually send tougher blokes for these things. No offence.ââ
I don't bother turning to the guard and his comment, feeling his eyes run up and down my body, the extra layers I've put on doing their job making me look more robust. Even with the Polyjuice potion Iâve drank, resembling a man of a smaller stature with added weight to look as non-threatening as I can, having chosen a muggle Iâve passed two months ago selling newspapers in London.
''None taken.ââ I offer a fake smile snorting, keeping up the acting letting my eyes shift around, the lack of my wand only slightly concerning the guard the only one armed between the two of us ââHappens a lot.ââ I grumble coughing as the muggle is a smoker it reflecting in my breathing as itâs becoming heavier the more we walk. My body is aching for rest.
ââI can imagine.ââ he shrugs, not seeing the glare I send him, being offended in the nameless muggleâs name instead. I flinch as someone suddenly screams at the top of their lungs, the voice carrying around the hall, the cell doors after all wooden with small windows carved in them, bared by metal bars not leaving them open.
The shout is coming from a criminal and yet they are still made of flesh and blood like I am. It sends a nasty chill to run down my spine. It's going to follow me I already know it.
Incredulous as I was before - silently of course - I observe the guard who is completely unphased. He unlocks metal barred doors with a regular key, not using any magic letting us pass into the third section of the prison. The further in we are making it into Azkaban the worse the conditions are. Shouts, screams of pain, manic laughter are the few sounds that have been accompanying me since setting foot on this gods forsaken island.
Taking the moment as the auror wrestles with a new key, I look around the surprisingly lit corridor. With torches on the walls providing light, weâve reached a section where thereâs lack of natural lighting. So, following along the spaciousness my gaze takes me upwards.
Something I was warned against. Of course, curiosity killed the cat after all.
I sallow uneasy at the sight of what seem hundreds if not thousands of dementors swirl near the ceilings, their attention set onto us. Even with good distance between them and us, their mere presence is shattering. Ugly creatures. I feel my own will beginning to falter, bad memories itching to surface to the front of my mind. Itâs hard to resist and has me putting in great effort and a deal of concentration to keep my thoughts blank.
ââThey must be sensing you.ââ the guard comments, his voice sounding unnatural in the once more quiet space. Glancing at him with a raised eyebrow he nods stopping to stand next to me ââYou are faring a lot better than most blokes that come through. Iâll give ya that.ââ
ââIn what sense?ââ I manage out following him, his words leaving me uneasy. But not rattled.
ââAhh even the biggest of the meatheads that do their bosses biding retrieving poor sapsâŠââ he glances back at me to which I nod furrowing my brows ââ...tend to lose it for a few moments on different sections. Fear is a powerful thing.ââ
Narrowing my eyes his words hold something deep to them. Iâm getting his hint. Other than that, the man besides looking rather bored at times is quite unreadable Iâm certain this place leaving effect on him as well. Keeping my observances to myself I trail along as I have been from the beginning, trying my best to ignore this bodyâs strain which I am putting it through.
ââIt can make you do bizarre things.ââ I say under my breath playing the character I envisioned for the man I am portraying.
The guard hums taking a turn to the right hands back on another keychain containing a few bizarre, shaped keys. Unique to the cells.
ââIt is your lucky day number 18031.ââ he speaks up unlocking the door ââOr unlucky given your future is still rather grim. From what I can deduct.ââ he looks back at me giving me a once over once more, along with an unnecessarily creepy and cruel smirk that I have to force out too to fool this lunatic.
The guard per instruction from before makes his way into the cell chatting happily with the prisoner leaving me alone outside. The warmth from the many torches is non-existent, a dangerous type of chill that rattles my bones begins to settle. Once more glancing up the dementors are itching closer in what I can describe is interest.
Cocking my head, I try not to focus on them too closely, clearing my mind of distractions, trying to stop jittering or the need to clack my teeth together. Iâm already feeling like life is pointless, the weight of the world set on my shoulders once more. But that is the extent of it, the thrumming in my blood keeping me collected.
The lullaby I call it of my ancient magic is a soothing whisper in my ears.
ââAh there we go.ââ comes the guards voice pushing out the man not roughly but enough to get him moving. It takes everything in me from not reaching out watching as the bearded youngster catches himself from falling, his hands chained.
ââAre the chains necessary?ââ I ask frowning, looking at the guard as he smiles locking the door.
ââMoreso for you than us Mr. Blane.ââ his reply is of amusement ââHe is a criminal, but Iâm sure youâve heard that from your boss already.ââ
ââA wandless one.ââ I raise an eyebrow checking the young man over, seeing his hunched form. Heâs hiding his face behind long brown hair, the stripped âuniformâ heâs forced to wear too big on his form, full of tears. Barefoot he looks like he hasnât bathed in forever.
ââYouâve not seen a man brought to their knees by despair yet, have ya?ââ the guard chats as if weâre talking about the weather leaving the prison doors open turning towards the same way where we came from. I subconsciously fall in step with the prisoner giving the prisoner a few seconds of time, watching, and waiting for him to take the first step which he does.
ââI have.ââ I admit the last 10 years not exactly easy.
ââDifferent kind of despair then.ââ the guard hums beginning to unlock the doors ââNot to give any ideas but think of basic instincts Mr. Blane. Primal.ââ again the creepy smile is back, the guardâs eyes portraying cruelty he Iâm sure has gotten scarily good at hiding. His change in mood is due to something he saw in me, Iâm sure. A mannerism I did or an answer that made him switch from apparent boredom to genuine emotions. Which isn't reassuring.
I return the grin trying my hardest not to gag, the emotions swirling in my belly strong.
ââHmmm. Thank you for the lesson. Iâll keep that in mind for future encounters.ââ
If I was in my own skin, Iâd be jumping out of it. The cruelty of the situation the darkness, this prison the capital of corruption and soullessness, insanity sounding blissful even.
Even if the people here are the worst of the worst of wizard kind itâs all too inhumane. As we begin trekking forward with the guard whistling a song, I follow behind the two. The prisoner not having uttered a word, his whole-body showing defeat as he drags his legs, shoulders that are wide and filled slouched. Taller than me for a whole head.
Satisfaction brought the cat back.
The thought crosses my mind my gaze taking me upwards again, to the new dementors who are hovering above us as we make way. Unsettling. Anyone would be unsettled with dark creatures doing so.
Iâm no different.
Curiosity after all is not always worth it. Satisfaction even less. So, I redirect the impulsive thought of releasing some magic out to the corner of my mind, the dementors still presenting mystery to this day. In that regards we are similar. Because even though they present fear that has spread to every witch and wizard, here I stand walking beneath them still confident and reassured even wandless they wouldnât harm me unlike my wizard kin.
My magic is telling me much.
Reaching the last doors takes us a while, our trek unhurried but briefed before we entered the first corridor. I have a hate/love relationship with patience. And the closer we are to the exit the carriage with which Iâve arrived in my sight the more my magic buzzes along with my excitement which Iâm desperately trying to keep at bay.
The guard that accompanied me goes to talk to his buddy thatâs keeping post at the entrance, the man looking even more uninterested sending us a brief glance only once as he signs scrolls, transfiguring a stone table from a rock nearby.
Glancing at the prisoner heâs still motionless standing next to me like a statue. His hair has grown long, past his shoulders, beard also overgrown. His skin like I mentioned is covered in dirt and grime some clear spots revealing faded freckles. Hmm.
ââAlright Mr. Blane.ââ the guard cheers still in a jolly mood trotting over to me, presenting the scroll wide and open ââThe paperwork and the prisoner as promised are all delivered in one piece.ââ and back comes the unsettling grin. The man is too proud of himself and his wrong doings.
ââAh thatâs a good man.ââ I cough squinting as I read the death certificate bringing my left hand from the pocket of my coat bringing out the handkerchief, Iâve been holding to wipe my mouth as I read the entirety of the page, making sure of the details ââSplendid.ââ I continue letting out another cough a hiccup following. Oh no.
ââWell at the end of the day, weâve gotten quite the stroll out hey. Besides getting jobs done.ââ I cheer still wiping my mouth thatâs beginning to tingle as are my fingers, the potion starting to waver.
ââA lovely one at that admittedly. Iâve pegged you wrongly at first. Youâre quite the brave man Mr. Blake.ââ
I laugh with him fishing out a small bag of coins handing them over to him, his eyes practically sparkling as well as the bored guards as he comes over giving the prisoner a disgusted look but makes sure to stand away from him ââThe amount is as promised lads. And thisâŠââ I reach for the trouser pocket and bring out 6 more coins splitting them between the two ââFor your troubles and help.ââ I smile gratefully ready to puke my guts out, my skin literally crawling, my left leg beginning to itch unbelievably.
ââAhhhh Mr. Blane. How generoussss.ââ the overly joyed guard cheers, the bored one looking impressed ââThe pleasure was all ours.ââ
ââIndeed.ââ the bored guard adds handing over my wand which was also made to look different, the redness of the wood of my wand masked into black wood along with the handle being switched into a plain one.
ââGentlemen.ââ I nod in acknowledgement ââBusiness calls. Have yourself a pleasant day onwards.ââ I greet and begin to walk ignoring the prisoner as the guard eagerly steps to him. I hear them both follow to the carriage, the Thestralâs patiently waiting.
Not entirely used to the big belly of this body I stumble and practically climb into the carriage. Beginning to sweat and not only from fatigue I start to wipe my forehead, smiling as the ânicerâ guard ushers the prisoner into the carriage with me, making him sit opposite as Iâve sat with my back to the Thestralâs.
ââUntil next time Mr. Blane.ââ the guard greets looking up as I cover my mouth the trembles happening all over my body. I play it off with a nod and another cough, the guard getting the message and closing the doors. Not wasting any time, I wave my wand magic the Thestralâs neighing in reply pulling us forth, the movement rough having me grip onto the seat as we practically launch into the air.
Waving my wand, the tinny curtains of the doors close shut as I try to catch my breath sitting back feeling very uncomfortable in this body, the grumbling getting louder and obnoxious, brown eyes peeking at me.
My breath gets caught at the sight of them. And my smile is instantaneous.
ââSorry about thisâŠââ the change in my voice is noticeable getting higher pitched, but lowering quickly as if one was changing the frequency on the radio ââ...this will probably be uncomfortable for the both of us.ââ
And with that, I attempt at shrugging off the oversized coat Iâve got on, barely managing it as my skin begins to morph, my eyesight sharpening from the dullness it has fallen into. The weight from the male anatomy is the hardest to disappear leaving me without air, the more my body reforms, hair prickling as it grows and regrows. Bones and limbs twist, organs readjusting. The heaviness in my lungs disintegrates and Iâm left feeling like Iâm breathing clean air after a long time.
The transformation back into myself leaves me winded and a bit lost for time. Because what feels like agonizing minutes, Iâm sure it was seconds that passed. Sitting slumped against the carriage seat I look back up to meet my favourite pair of brown eyes, still unchanged in these 10 years.
I can see the bafflement in them.
And recognize the way his mind is working - a million miles per hour.
ââAlright so we donât have much time.ââ I find my voice clearing it by coughing a few times, simultaneously beginning to wrestle with the tie Iâve put on and the white shirt underneath ââThe Ministryâs lookout is bound to meet us at one point. Itâs routine for them to fly around to check any unwanted visitations near AzkabanâŠââ I ramble undoing the clothing Iâve put on realizing how hot Iâve gotten as I strip down to my own simple shirt and blazer, along with pants and shoes that have already fallen off my feet.
ââ...so, let's get you into something more comfortable for the time being. And less obvious.ââ
I begin to pick up the clothing placing it next to him, for him to wear as intended ââGods, we should've been off already.ââ I grumble standing up, pushing open the seat grabbing my boots, along with another wand.
Turning forward I meet his eyes again offering the wand ââIt's not yours Iâm sorry I couldnât retrieve it. But it's the next best thing until we can find you a new one.ââ
But unlike how I imagined it, he doesnât react. Still silent, a bit frighteningly so he stares at it mouth remaining shut eyes coming back to meet mine.
ââOkay then ammâŠââ I stumble dropping onto the seat ââNo rush there, Sebastian. Iâll take care of you donât worry.ââ
With my boots on, I automatically reach forward but stop myself quickly realizing the boldness of my action, watching him scared for a second that heâs going to freak out. He doesnât. He remains motionless staring at me unbreaking eye contact.
ââIâm sorry Iâm rushing you into this. I really am sorry. But I need you to change, okay? I didnât break you out of prison to see you sent back. Can you please dress??? Do you need help?ââ
He shakes his head at that and lifts his hands wordlessly ââOh fuck, Iâm so stupid Iâm so sorry.ââ I rush reaching for my wand the concealing charm falling away revealing my wand properly ââAlohomora.ââ
And just like that the chains fall from his wrist, his hands defined and a bit scarred.
ââIâll go outside okay, give you a moment.ââ Receiving back the faintest of nods and a completely unreadable Sebastian, I open the carriage door, the wind slamming into me but unmoving me as I make quick work of climbing onto the empty seat, another illusion charm breaking to reveal no one driving the carriage. Sparks of blue like magic visibly to my eyes only.
Checking the surroundings luckily clouds are beginning to gather, a storm brewing the smell of it thick in the air. Turning back seeing nothing but ocean underneath us I let myself smile a little, as I pick up on thunder grumbling.
A knock to the ceiling of the wood brings me back to reality, setting me back into motion of sliding back into the carriage. Instead of entering I rest one foot on the second step, holding onto the railing atop of the carriage hanging from it practically as I peek inside taking Sebastian in.
The clothes are lost as was his prison uniform but makes him look less, wild in a sense. His eyes hold more intensity to them.
ââOkay.ââ I begin noticing he hasnât reached for the wand I let for him picking it up ââYouâve got no reason to but, will you trust me?ââ I ask his eyes going to the wand then back to me ââTrust me Seb??ââ I try, sliding the wand into the sleeve of my blouse where I have my own wand holster.
After two heart beats Sebastian nods, to which I mimic him turning sideways.
ââAlright. Itâs just you and me.ââ I repeat the words automatically, this having become a mantra the past 10 years before I did anything foolish and dangerous. Scooting to the doors preventing them from closing I reach back with my hand offering it to him.
ââPlace your foot behind mine and hold onto me, okay?? Really tight!ââ
Focusing on what I must do next, I donât pay him mind. I donât even know if he hesitates or not. Not even the way he slides his hand in mine. I only know for sure when I feel his hand, I grab onto him firmly switching to holding one hand with my right, left keeping us upright as he presses himself behind me. Heâs a lot taller than I remember beard scratching the back of my head.
ââOkay.ââ I say to myself more so, grasp on the bar of the carriage beginning to morph as I feel what I can describe is a pleasant heat of my magic coming to life, the support of the carriage disappearing as if a balloon was popped.
And just like that we are falling.
For a few moments that is. Sebastianâs hold tightens impossibly so crushing me onto him. And as ridiculous as it is, bizarre in the midst of the chaos, of the fear, anxiety, happiness, everything bubbling in me I can feel butterflies.
Upkeep his trust, and proceeding with the plan like Iâve said the carriage disappears. Whatâs left is my modified broom, which was the rod I was holding onto. Bending my knees, I twist it in front of me and slide it beneath us both.
Itâs a move Iâve been practicing since my first flying days back at Hogwarts, the thought of falling of a broom instilling a weird fear into me. So, this move has been years in the making.
Successfully I slide it both underneath us, catching onto the foot holders Iâve readjusted to the front. It does pull us roughly forward and Sebastian lands on it to the side. But Iâm prepared. Iâve literally obsessed over every possibility of this.
With a nudge forward and hold my iron grip on him, his hand intertwined in mine I pull him flat against me, twisting the broom to right our positions.
On a normal day the manoeuvre would call for a loud cheer, the accomplishment unseen by wizard kind. But not today. Itâs not an occurrence in anyoneâs lifetime to break people from Azkaban. And yet here we are.
So, upkeep focus is the priority. Flying Sebastian to safety is the next agenda of business. And with the cover of clouds and budding lightning, thatâs the easiest part of today.
***
ââWellâŠââ I pause taking half a step back to observe my handiwork trying my hardest not to make any faces, as I continue running my fingers through his hair, the newly chopped strands sticking in all kinds of directions ââ...given my limited experience in sheering a sheep once, Iâd say it looks rather good.ââ I praise myself satisfied with Sebastianâs now short hairstyle.
Trying to remain positive I stand in front of him, his eyes unmovable from me not once fleeting elsewhere ââHm.ââ I mumble and place my hands on my hips meeting his pretty brown eyes ââFeels better huh?ââ
He doesnât reply. He hasnât spoken a word since the carriage. No scratch that since his cell. Iâm not sure exactly what to think of it reminding myself over and over again to keep calm and give him time and space. Which reminds me.
ââAh yeah, the bath.ââ I point out the tub that Iâve filled almost to the brim with lukewarm sinking the tips of my fingers in it to test it out ââAlright. Iâve got many shampoos, over thereâŠââ He merely glances to where I point to the small stool, Iâve placed next to the tub ââ...I remember you liking more woody scents, but I didnât know exactly the brand you liked, so I bought a bunch for you to try.ââ I smile as I step over to him sitting in the middle of my bathroom, covered with an old towel as Iâve cut his hair leaving the beard up to him.
ââThere are fresh clothes for you, the oneâs I gave you were for show and more of a universal size. Weâll get more to fit you better and to your liking when youâre ready.ââ I pass him over to the sink, letting go of the scissors on the porcelain surface, my own products neatly stacked to my liking on the free space of the shelving unit I built one day.
ââAnd yeah.ââ reaching for my wand I wave it at the tub, speaking the incantation in my mind watching as the water begins to bubble and steam, trying not to let Sebastianâs deep gaze unhinge me ââThatâs about that.ââ I smile wider backing towards the door ââTake as much of time as you like. Iâll go prepare us some food in the meantime. If you need anything Iâm right behind the doors.ââ
With that Iâm grasping the doorhandle opening it but find myself hesitant with taking a step onwards turning back to the still mute Sebastian that doesnât move a muscle. Itâs as if heâs trying to tell me something while Iâm stuck on a level of not being able to understand him. With a softer smile, I step outside with a heavy heart closing the door gently making my way into the kitchen from my bedroom.
My cottage is on the smaller side only having the basics, the addition of a study heaven sent. I send a glance around the spacious room that is the kitchen, entrance, dining room and living room all combined.
Itâs a cozy little place to live in, with no noisy neighbours, or busy streets my location being on the edge of the village ensuring peace and quiet.
But tonight, for the first time since moving here the silence is deafening. Knowing who is on the other side of the wall. My body begins moving on autopilot peeling potatoes by hand instead of using magic, my mind keeps racing. Itâs hard not to think of more scenarios, more what-ifs. Honestly its quite bloody hard trying not to spiral. Guilt always finds a way to interfere.
Before I know it, Iâve prepared the veggies and precut chicken setting it into the oven it firing up normally. It only comes after the tiredness from my actions as I slump into the chair at the head of the table facing the kitchen, so Iâll be able to see Sebastian emerge from my dimly lit room.
It feels unreal. Reality not sinking just yet - he is here. He is free. Iâve freed him.
The commitment of a crime - breaking a prisoner out of prison - still doesnât sound bad in my ears. Logically its illegal yes, but I feel that I did the right thing. Because I did. I know I did. Iâm just regretful it took me 10 fucking years to do so. Laws cannot help you even when proven right and wrong. Alliances are fickle matters. Money canât buy you everything.
Shadows moving in the corner of my eye have me tense up, left hand shifting towards the movement, my wand forgotten on the clean kitchen counter. I keep forgetting it in places, wandless magic having gotten easier with training and life experiences. I somewhat relax at the sight of Sebastian emerging from the other room.
He leaves me stunned. With damp hair slicked back, and a clean-shaven face Iâm able to see the progress of time on him. Itâs not much which is why it strikes me all that more at how all the same he looks. He is on the skinnier side, eyes cheeks sunken, the boyish look gone and replaced by the serious and still wordless man that cautiously walks into the light, eyes fleeting towards the oven - or my wand - then back to me.
The clothes Iâve gotten him hang loose but not too much. They look a little short. Heâs taller than I anticipated. But clothing is an easy fix. So is hair.
Despite the sullenness heâs still Sebastian. It's hard to explain it, but I see that spark in him even in the emotionlessness heâs portraying. Makes my heart ache so much more.
ââYouâve made yourself a cozy home.ââ are the first words that he speaks. His voice is gruff giving a hint of not being used as the tone is low and raspy.
I glance around memories of frantic deep cleaning marathons Iâve spiralled into before setting out on getting him free, going through my mind as I shrug turning back ââEhhh. A recent purchase.ââ I glance around again trying not to look at the trinkets Iâve picked up from adventures and work-related tasks.
At his silence but inquiring eyes I continue ââThe quiet has its advantages. Or maybe itâs the old age in me, craving some alone time.ââ
At this his eyebrows raise as he looks around again, observing the furniture, decor, pictures ââNo significant other to keep company??ââ
I want to snort at the obvious question: his train of thoughts is very similar to the old Sebastian I knew. I shake my head rolling my shoulders back as I lean against the chair, relaxing my feet and body getting comfortable ââWasnât on my list of priorities to be honest.ââ I scrunch up my nose watching as he walks over to the table, still putting distance between us.
ââHmmm.ââ he hums in thought eyes looking over my ringless fingers as if to confirm it ââYou were always too brilliant for mere mortals.ââ he jokes my smile easily rising at the jab as I chuckle my heart fluttering at the soft smile that he graces me with.
ââAh itâs not even about that, and you know it.ââ I reply bringing my hands on the table together starting to fidget as I timidly look at him ââDid youâŠââ I pause adrenaline and confidence having truly left me ââDid you by any chance get any mail?ââ
He remains silent eyes breaking away as they look around the room more, the shift from one foot to another prompting him into walking slowly over, hands that previously rested on top of a chair, moving along touching the wood as he comes closer.
ââYou wrote me?ââ he counters with a question, face not giving anything away even if he looks relaxed.
ââI did.ââ I say calmly ignoring the rise of my heartbeat as he pulls the chair out on my left and with caution sits himself down, body turned towards me.
ââSadly, I wasnât granted those kinds of privileges.ââ
Defeated at that, the comfort of Sebastian hearing from me all these years is slightly defeating as Iâve hoped my words would bring some form of comfort. When my owl kept returning with no letters, Iâd assumed that he got them.
ââI tried.ââ I begin licking over my lower lip ââI wrote to you.ââ I pause again looking at my hands not able to meet his serious face ââI tried opening an investigation for your case.ââ I send a glance to my right the cabinet containing all the documents Iâve gathered during the 10 years to free him. ââEven with the right connections I â Iâve had to resort to other measures.ââ I frown raising my right hand reciting the right levitation charm watching as a thin brown folder levitates into the air and makes its way over into my hand.
I finally turn to Sebastian trying not to backtrack at the intense look heâs giving me. The emotionlessness has me on edge, but even more so itâs his stillness. I know him as being animated always full of life and mischief too, his cunning knowing no bounds. Its why I was always drawn to him, so easily agreeing to stupid plans.
ââYouâve heard us talk. I think youâve picked up on what transpired.ââ I turn the file over and slide it to him, his eyes unmoving from me as silence stretches between us.
And the more it goes on the more I feel like a little girl again. Uncomfortable, lost, anxious but the feelings I hate the most are insecurity and helplessness. With a look heâs drawing that out of me. Lucky or unlucky my employment has provided me with years of practice, and a ton of experience to leave nothing out as I hold myself composed, straightening up even sitting proper in anticipation for an attack. I donât exactly know how else to hold myself by, the work of an Unspeakable wrapped in mystery for sure, but also layers of letâs call it character development that had shaped me into the person I am today.
Yet with the reminder of the last few years the trails tribulations, the triumphs, falls, accomplishments, deaths Iâm being brought to a dangerous level of crumbling. Under those watchful brown eyes, empty but overwhelming at the same time.
ââLast time I saw you, heard you â your cries were quite remorseful.ââ He taps his fingers against the table quirking an eyebrow. The memory burns freshly in my mind, aurors taking Sebastian away, Ominis holding me back with surprising strength as I protested and pleaded, begging for them to stop my cries falling on deaf ears.
ââI think any 15-year-old would react like that when she saw the love of her life being taken away like that.ââ the truth pours out easily the quirk of his brow signalling Iâve caught him of guard.
ââThatâs quite the statement, Mc.ââ He observes, his posture giving hints of something akin to curiosity.
ââIt happens to be truthful.ââ I lower my chin a little still maintaining eye contact.
ââEven after all that happened. After all Iâve done? After Iâve taught you the dark arts. Got you almost killed?ââ the words pour out of him the collectedness cracking.
ââThey say love is blind.ââ I smile at my own statement relaxing back into the chair.
ââMc.ââ He speaks my name seriously leaning forward for the first-time showing anger and frustration shifting in his seat ââIâve manipulated you into doing my biding. Played on your nice heart, taken advantage thoroughly. I didnât even think about consequences. Youâre not daft. Youâre aware of all of this.ââ
I simply nod at his words smile still present ââI didnât care about your feelings or wellbeing.ââ He adds on my shrug seemingly rising more out of him ââI wouldâve done anything and everything to find a cure. Anything.ââ
At this I tilt my head watching him. Iâve imagined him going of like this in my mind many times. My own imagination a lot more hurtful than the real thing truthfully. Even if his words are baneful, I find myself being okay.
ââYou never lied very well to me.ââ I find myself stating his lack of anything prompting me to go on ââI could always read you. I knew you better than you did yourself.ââ I hum after that Sebastian shaking his head.
ââAnd here I thought Iâve been freed from the looney bin.ââ
At that statement my smile disappears my fingers tapping on the table to rein him in ââNo need for that, Seb. We both know what anger makes you do, your regretful-ness always leading you to grovelling.ââ I spit back. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists stance tense.
ââI think between the two of us youâre the fool in this equation. You used to tease anyone to never underestimate me, and yet here you are.ââ I pause reaching for the pocket of my pants ââYou know Iâm not the one who put you behind bars.ââ Confidently I go on ââSomehow even with little privileges youâre a Slytherin after all. Its why you didnât protest or react when the Polyjuice potion wore off in the carriage.ââ
His breathing is becoming deeper, chest raising and falling noticeably ââYou knew something was up. Youâre not one to throw in the towel. Even after â after the circumstances.ââ I pause not wanting to mention Azkaban directly ââI have it on good authority that youâve gotten some of my letters.ââ His breathing hitches my smile rising ââLike I said you canât trick me Sallow. Weâve had it worse in our 5th year in some regards.ââ
I get completely serious waiting for him to protest, waiting for him to raise an uproar as Iâm sure heâs easily recollecting the events in our Hogwarts days. The thought of us being kids and definitely the definition of luck as the dangers weâve faced would leave anyone else traumatized or dead.
Iâve been in the presence of dementors before, the ministry having random outbreaks, some of my missions having sent me to meet even worse creatures than them. Sebastian might have been alone for these past years dealing with happiness and joy being sucked out of him â for a fact I know especially now that heâs going to be okay. He has changed yes, grown as I did, but he has also managed to adapt to his surroundings. He didnât let them take him entirely apart.
ââEven with thisâŠââ I rest my hand on the table, knuckles against the wood opening my palm up we both watch as a fire like shape raises, the tingle of my ancient magic humming comforting to be brought to the surface âââŠwith what life has thrown at meâŠââ I shake my head the magic rising âââŠIâmâŠââ the words die on my tongue.
Magic retracts itself disappearing into thin air leaving behind a warm feeling my offer to the once more stoic brunette a sad smile as I pull my hand back but place the small box from my pocket on the table ââYouâre not alone.ââ
My voice is strained as the oven begins to beep annoying loud providing the opportunity to look away and blink tears into nonexistence as I will myself to calm down, waving my hand in the familiar and automatic pattern as I watch the over, turn off its doors opening. The dish floats without a hitch onto the stove, the oven doors closing.
Glancing over at Sebastian his gaze is stuck on the unopened box and file. I sigh deeply steadying myself as I reach over and flicker the velvety box open revealing a simple silver ring pushing it to him. I tap the table twice, the indication for him to open the document. Which he slowly does reach for, opening it as if itâs going to attack him at any moment.
Placing both of my hands back on the table, I summon the wand Iâve gotten for him his declination of it before still a mystery to me. Catching the unfamiliarly weighted wand, I gently place it on the table right in the middle between us, the offering going unsaid.
Retreating my hands I reach for the other pocket of my pants, pulling out and putting on my own wedding band which is a fairly recent accessory Iâve started wearing.
Looking over at the silent man, his eyes are taking the paper in rapidly. Reading. Re-reading. Re-checking. The certificates. The ring. The wand.
ââNothing is set in stone.ââ I softly begin Sebastian still unmoving ââExcept for the death certificate. That was tricky to arrange, more so than the wedding document. Oh, Merlin that was ridiculously easy.ââ Once more I shake my head letting out an empty laugh, surprised but not showing it as he has picked up the wedding ring his silence stretching for longer than Iâm used to from him.
It slides me right back towards the edge, anxiety picking, the knot in my stomach twisting to a painful degree.
ââL/N?ââ
I nod immediately as his eyes meet my own ââI think my surname is rather nice.ââ I blur out ââNo that Sallow isnât but, it kind of defeats the whole âyouâre publicly deadâ purpose.ââ I rant his face not changing ââIâm sure the daily prophet will mention your passing tomorrow.ââ I glance to the left at the clock ticking away, signalling its way later than it feels. It still feels surreal to have Sebastian in front of me.
He opens his mouth but closes it just as fast something bothering him, twisting his pretty face into a frown. It would be weird if he wasnât bothered.
ââLike Iâve said nothing is set into stone.ââ I raise my hands in surrender, Sebastianâs attention on the wand now. Heâs watching it and not picking it up.
ââIâve used you.ââ His statement catches me of guard as anger sparks ââNeed I repeat all the misdeedâs all the faults Iâve made you dealt with? I saw how scared you were of the ancient magic, I saw how it drained you and still Iâve pushed and pushed you, into exhaustion and numerous shaves with death without a pause. Heck, in the scriptorium after casting Curcio I left you behind in favour of exploring. Mc. Why?ââ he deadpans ââAnne my own twin sister sent me to Azkaban. Ominis my best friend didnât hesitate to betray me. YouâŠthis is madness. You are mad.ââ
He stares at me incredulous clearly having run these questions through his mind before. He rehearsed these words. Before me doesnât sit a ânotorious prisoner, a criminal from Azkabanâ anymore. Before me is sitting the Sebastian I know and love. With the same scared expression, same sort of desperation eyes pleading for things to make sense.
Hence why getting up is so much easier body moving on its own the scared boy I was infatuated with having the same effect on me, pulling me in towards the wildfire that he is. He doesnât flinch, doesnât particularly react in any way as I step around the table and in front of him rising my hands.
Meeting his eyes my palms land on his cheeks. Gentle to touch thanks to the shower and shave they feel familiar in my palms and yet different. His body tense from emotions and racing mind going gradually into a relax state as he hunches forward, eyes blinking away tears.
I crowd into his personal space Sebastian making room by spreading his legs, welcoming as I brush my fingers into his messy hair, the motion making me feel 10 years younger as Iâve used to do this on the regular whenever we were alone together.
My heart all but leaps from my chest as his hands find themselves above my hips in a respectful place sliding over my back drawing me into a hug which I happily succumb to, holding him close to me only slightly self-conscious if he can hear how my heart speeds for him.
Otherwise, the surrealness returns, the overwhelming joy of finally putting my plans into motion of them being fruitful hit me. Closing my eyes I attempt at holding back tears, but itâs an impossible task with the way heâs holding onto me, guiding me as if Iâm made of glass to sit in his lap rearranging us and yet not parting a millimetre away from one another, as he buries his face into my shoulder and stills, big hands splayed over my back as if Iâm the one whoâs going to disappear.
To be honest my hands are doing the same, grasping his clothes rougher than needed the reassurance not quenched entirely. So, I let the tears flow Iâm sure dampening his shirt in the process, alerting him of my state only after a while since he makes the first move, calloused hands this time cupping my own cheeks, thumbs attempting to wipe away tears.
ââIâve not seen you cry ever dearest Mc, and Iâm the one who makes you cry so easily??ââ a spark of mischief fizzles in the end his hesitant smile words causing me to huff an awkward laugh, as I look up towards the ceiling trying to will away the tears.
ââItâs merely a side effect of a heartfelt reunion.ââ I let out some air looking back at him feeling hope creep into my heart which is unnerving ââLong distance and all.ââ My voice cuts off in the end the humour not at all humorous.
He hums in response I think feeling the same sentiments as I am, preoccupying himself with getting acquainted with me again. I know Iâve changed, its only logical. We are not kids anymore. I let him indulge as one hand continuously caresses up and down my back, the other touching my lose hair, temple, nose, cheek and so forth meanwhile I do the same taking my own selfish time in admiring him so up close, blissfully ignoring reality the bubble weâve fallen into, serenity. A slice of Eden dare I say.
Its once his hand parts from my face and find my left hand, that he speaks again ââThis is not how Iâve imagined my marriage would start.ââ He begins softly voice still containing raspiness to it, fingers tracing and rotating the wedding ring on my finger ââRather unorthodox.ââ He muses in the end blessing me with a genuine smile.
ââItâs quite fitting for your brand.ââ We both grin and my tease ââAnd like youâve mentioned before. Iâm not meant for mere mortals. Let alone being one for tradition or normalcy.ââ I let my ancient magic sparkle watching as he stares in wonder at our joined hands the blue like flame illuminating his face into a pretty blue colour.
ââAnd yet youâre bestowing the sacred privilege of not only honouring me with your last name but taking me rather shamelessly as your husband?ââ he looks incredulous the more he speaks sort of holding his breath in a sense to see if Iâm suddenly going to change my mind ââA dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. A murderer.ââ
His handsome features twist into a frown showing disgust and what heâs thinking about himself Iâm sure holding more vile words back. Unphased and already having expected this I keep calm, and with my right free hand reach for his occupied hand retaking the wedding ring Iâve picked for him twisting it between my fingers a trick Iâve learned from a muggle magician, slight of hands handy even in the wizarding world.
ââTo me you are just Sebastian.ââ I admit smiling watching his eyes glossing over lower lip trembling briefly ââIâve obviously made my choice havenât I. Iâm giving you a choice of your own. You can accept it or refuse it, regardless of my actions and feelings because this is about you and your life from this point onwards.ââ
The pause is heavy in the air, the coldness from the dementors making a fleeting appearance as Iâm reminded of where he is coming from after all. Heâs not the Sebastian I know not entirely, even if I am drawing him out slowly. Hence my fears are justifiable.
ââYouâve taken one life, Seb.ââ I whisper lowering my hand searching his eyes ââIn self-defence.ââ I pause again gulping down the knot in my throat ââYouâve no clue what Iâve done since youâve been gone.ââ I give him a sad smile, looking between us at the way heâs holding my hand ââYou have not paused to think that I might be dragging you back onto the wrong path. That Iâm not who I appear to be. That I might be the bad guy here.ââ
His relaxed body tenses the more I talk, expression once more dropping all emotions as he hardens eyebrows furrowing as intensity sparks behind his eyes ââYou could never be.ââ Heâs quick to hiss, gentle hands tightening the shake of his head warming me.
ââOh, but I am.ââ I drop both my hands in my lap, his own not leaving me for a moment ââIâve earned many names in the years of my employment at the ministry.ââ He gets taken aback by that my smile lighter ââProfessor Hecat had an eye for detecting certain potentials in students. Even the ones with good intentions.ââ
I wait for him to figure out, to make the connection which he does brilliantly fast ââMcâŠââ he speaks my name sweetly to which I shake my head.
ââI hold no grudges or ill against you Sebastian. I never had.ââ I straighten his hold unmoving ââI had this feeling ever since our youth that we were always meant to be.ââ His eyes widen ââIt may be delusion from my part, but I do not regret the things I did with you, or the things I had to do to get you out.ââ Its frighteningly easy to slip into the serious persona I tend to wear as an Unspeakable. I hate that Iâm doing it to him, switching up emotions not really comforting him as I should be.
But he needs to know the truth.
ââYouâve always been on my mâŠââ
Unable to finish the sentence Iâm startled into silence as his lips meet my own. Of course, itâs a rather surprising move I think for the both of us, as he doesnât entirely commit to it his slightly chapped lips moving shily. He retreats as quicky as he came, eyes panicked as they search my own.
He meant the kiss I know that much. Its written all over his panic-stricken features and eyes. This is where the prison has left a mark on him, turning the flirtations and overconfident Slytherin to an insecure man holding me firmly and yet blushing at a mere peck that he so clumsily delivered.
Breaking the poor manâs torture, I end up closing the distance initiating the kiss gently, timid lips still unsure as they follow my own, a tremble to them prompting me to wrap my arms around his shoulders to hold him closer in reassurance. Or it might be my own insecurity still gnawing at my subconsciousness. Emotions are a tricky business.
For the moment being, the sweet slow drag of our lips is enough to keep me grounded. To appreciate the sacrifices made, the overthinking and panicking at times, the survival methods the both of us had to resort to. It matters not in the end as long as we are back in each otherâs arms. And if that makes me bad, morally grey as the whispers in the ministry are floating around â Iâll be the villain. Gladly. As long as I get to see Sebastian. As long as heâs alright. Dare I hope for him to be happy finally.
Slowly parting he follow suit chasing me for a fracture of a moment. The small action has me smiling as I lean my forehead against his, running one hand through his hair trying to hold back, and calm my breathing and the beating of my heart.
ââIâve missed you.ââ my voice comes out unfiltered ââIâve missed you so much, it ached.ââ I grasp his hand with my other one placing it over my heart ââHurt. It hurt so bad, Seb.ââ Blasted tears make an appearance as I give space to look at him his own expression crushing as he looks so sorry and dejected.
ââOh darlingâŠââ he whines gulping, thoughts Iâm sure all over ââJust you and me yeah??ââ he whispers upkeeping eye contact ââRemember? I made a promise.ââ
I close my eyes at the memory. The memory holds joy as it does tragedy. The stupid fool that he was, he followed me one night when I stumbled upon a camp of poachers. The hero he wanted to act just got in the middle of things. It took one second of distraction from my part, one bloody second that he got struck with a nasty hex that left him instantly bleeding and unresponsive.
That brough a whole another aspect to my ancient magic as a thunderstorm raged for the rest of the night. He narrowly escaped death only thanks to me finding the by then deceased wizardâs wand, breaking it to relive him of pains, and a good 2 Wiggenweld Potionâs to get him semi-conscious.
Having had to reveal the room of requirements and thankfully learning enough healing charms to âmendâ him together his promise befell through a fervour he had. But his smile was bright, genuine a bit aloof. He meant every word he said.
And right now, heâs being deadly serious waiting for my response.
ââEven after all this time?ââ my voice comes out unsure, Sebastian immediately nodding bringing our joined hands upwards to which he presses a kiss to the top of my knuckles.
ââI could ask you the same thing.ââ He smiles with ease drawing out a blush to flush over my cheeks ââYouâve waited all these years, havenât you?ââ he hums as I nod not trusting my voice ââFound impossible ways to keep giving me hope. To keep me alive. Sane.ââ I can merely stare at him, ignoring my own trembling lips letting myself enjoy his touches and proximity ââOnly you. It has always been only you.ââ
Unlike the younger version of Sebastian who had shown his fire-y passion usually through kisses and rather daring touches now and then, this Sebastian still handling me like glass pulls me into his embrace, resting his head onto my shoulder hiding his face in my hair and momentarily from the world.
So, I follow suit, running one hand over his back caressing, the other finding its way into his curls the feeling of them, having imagined it to many times to count, currently a blissful affair.
ââLet me see that ring.ââ He speaks up as Iâve seemingly lost my own voice, doing as he wishes parting only slightly to watch him accept the ring Iâve been holding onto this entire time, doubts nasty little critters as I like to not so affectionally call these emotions, piling and adding weight.
With a held breath, he examines the silver ring turning and twisting it around looking at it from all the angles, his lips painted with a faint lopsided smirk of amusement and mischief. He looks up at me the side of his eyes crinkling a bit.
ââNo flashy jewellery.ââ He quirks an eyebrow, cupping my ring bearing hand raising it to which his gaze falls into my own ring which he gently rolls around my fingers ââAlways the one for practicality.ââ He chuckles retreating his hand to put his wedding band onto his finger. Only when it slides fitting onto his digit perfectly do I release the breath Iâve been holding.
ââItâs not even about practicality.ââ I pout watching as he flexes his fingers, rotating his hand as if testing the feel of the band his definitely mischievous eyes landing on my own ââIâm not one for rocks itâs all.ââ I shrug attempting to cross my arms waiting for the onslaught of his teases giving in immediately as his hand intercepts both of my own.
ââJust sturdy, powerful and extremely rare metals then?ââ again with the quirking of his eyebrow his comment reminding me how brilliant he still is. It didnât take him long at all to figure out that our wedding bands, silver in colour have been made from like he said extremely, nearly extinct pieces of metal that took quite the ventures to get to them.
Not only have they meaning in the eyes of everyone as being symbols of our love and devotion to one another, but they provide us with certain magical enhancements.
ââNot meant for mere mortals.ââ Once more I throw at his face wanting him to understand how much he means to me, his playfulness lowering a notch as he looks at me with affection. With more confidence in his actions, he leans in capturing my lips with his, the kiss syrupy as he takes his time as if to explore my mouth anew, hands finding themselves over my thigs where he grips onto my flesh and pulls me even closer.
I sigh into the kiss letting him take the lead, not minding his touches that grow bolder kiss paired with teeth and tongue reminding me of his teenage self actually who wasnât afraid of trying out new things.
What has my brows furrowing is the thrust of his hips coming at random the full feel of his manhood clicking in my brain I shift in his lap in such a manner that has me wrapping my legs around his hips, the back of the chair providing an annoying blockade preventing me from wrapping around him.
As if he reads my mind â making me briefly wonder if he has become a legitimus â his hands slip underneath me his touch daring as its on my bottom. With a bite to my lower lip, he lets out a shuddering breath shifting getting up all the while holding me against him. The damned chair falls over causing a racket in the quiet house but leaves him and myself unbothered as his lips find their way under my jaw teeth grazing against my jugular the action arousing in some odd way.
ââOh SebâŠââ I groan as he presses a wet kiss to a ticklish area, his swaying prompting me to open my eyes, seeing the sunrise outside the window.
ââYou sound so beautiful.ââ He groans continuing with his ministrations ââAnd Iâve merely begun.ââ Cheeky is what he is, hands grasping my backside squeezing even.
ââOh.ââ I squeak ending up giggling at my own response, Sebastian ending up laughing with me, momentarily stopping his ministrations ââAh Merlin. Youâre still obnoxious.ââ
On purpose Iâm sure he delivers a slightly stinging bite ââOuch Sebastian!ââ I try to scold him, his lull into a step side-tracking my thoughts as I cling onto him.
ââAnd you are still, sensitive dear wife.ââ he smirks as I look down at him, his grin almost the same one that promises nothing but trouble. But his use of title, has a blush hitting me all over, heat practically washing over me. I see how my reaction pleases him, as he continues walking carefully. A hint of my old Sebastian is showing through the sparkles in his pretty eyes.
ââIâm not sensitive.ââ I pout trying to keep calm and my head clear ââYou always imagined that.ââ
He chuckles as we walk past the doorway, the sun outside casting gentle rays onto the floor. Itâs quite the miracle for it has been raining for months, and today out of all days itâs miraculously sunny.
ââAh. Sure yes. As your dutiful husband I shall agree on that and apologize darling.ââ He exaggerates making me muse as he stops and hovers over the bed.
ââNow you are exaggerating Sebastian.ââ
ââHappy wifeâŠââ I put my hand over his mouth to stop him from finishing the sentence, as I giggle looking at him in astonishment.
ââDonât you even dare.ââ I warn letting go of his mouth in favour of grabbing him by his shoulders as he dips down ââSebâŠââ I gasp in fright as it begins okay, him bending forward but it ends up in me falling on the bed and him crashing into me leaving me winded from surprise but not the impact.
He burst into laughter whilst I do the same, covering my face for a moment looking at the ceiling above me, Sebastian shaking in my arm from laughter hanging half off the bed.
ââThat was ratherâŠaccurate for the two of us.ââ I mumble running my hands up and down his back as he begins to calm down, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly whole expression lifted and joyful.
ââExcuse me then dear wife. This was not in my plans.ââ He giggles still greatly amused, only now readjusting himself off me, and manoeuvring the both of us onto the bed sideways still as he doesnât put any distance between us.
ââI would sure hope not.ââ I smile cupping his cheeks ââFear not dear husband, I am not made of porcelain.ââ I raise my eyebrows ready for his teasing. He takes a different course, in the form of closing the distance kissing me with more vigour, remaining soft in his ministrations his hand oddly in place.
I kiss him in return trying to calm down my shuddering breath as he steals it literally. Even as I cannot uphold my head upright and fall to lie down, he follows eagerly pressing pecks, kisses over my jawline cheek, cheekily kissing the tip of my nose eyes half closed as he admires for a moment and then returns to reward me with the slow drag of his lips.
I let my hands drop in the meantime, rubbing them over his clothed back. Heâs still wide like he used to be, but he has lost his muscles that were built thanks to Imeldaâs rigorous training for quidditch. And our adventures too. Not only did he lose his bulk, but also his strength which was proven a few moments ago. A reminder that he has gone through something traumatic.
So due to his hesitant touches, and to be honest my loss of patience I bring my hands forth, over his arms to the front, finding the buttons of the collared shirt Iâve got him to wear. Luckily, he didnât bother with the waistcoat, so my intention gets quickly realized as I undo the garment.
He breaks the kiss due to my touched, his breath hitching as my hands come in contact with his chest, one of his hands grasping my wrist gently stopping me in my ministrations.
ââMc IâŠââ he pauses looking between us instead at me, his cheeks, and ears flushed pink.
Wordless I understand him right now. Pulling my hands back I offer a big-closed lip smile his eyes turning to look at me in fright.
ââItâs okay.ââ I speak softly grabbing the tucked part of my own collared shirt. He shifts in a way that allows me to pull it over my head which leaves me in my chemise, Sebastian looking something between frightened and aroused as he watches me.
ââI understand, okay?ââ I say slowly as if Iâm talking to a frightened creature grasping his hand. I bring it over to my left shoulder pushing the sleeve of my chemise lower to reveal the ugly burn that stretches over my skin ââWe don't have to do anything. Don't force yourself. We can stop. It's okay. But know that I don't want you any less. You're still you, and I'm still me. Nothingâs changed.ââ
As if weak he bends down, resting his forehead against my own. His hand still on my shoulder begins to gently caress my skin whilst I bring my own back to his chest listening watching him intently for any sign of rejection. Not showing any, I proceed to touch him with utmost gentleness tracing over his stomach, chest feeling his bones all the more. This time around I kiss him in distraction, as I push the shirt over his shoulders.
Half expecting him to freeze, Iâm left pleasantly surprised as he gets up and begins to push off the material, discharging it behind us. As he sits on his knees above me chest noticeably moving as heâs breathing heavily, Iâm the one whoâs left admiring him.
Even covered in tiny scars, scraps and hair, heâs still my Sebastian. Even this fragile and tired looking I see the fire in his eyes.
ââOhh Sebastian!ââ I exclaim following with a fit of giggles as his veiny hands, which I notice only now reach for the belt of my trousers. I leave my hands to rest next to my head smiling at the manhandling that he is doing.
ââYou said you werenât fragile.ââ He taunts licking his lower lip, as the belt comes undone and is pulled off, his hands clumsy as he tears the button of my trousers off.
ââI am not.ââ I agree watching him delighted in how he begins to pull down the clothing along with my winter socks ââAre you in a rush darling?ââ I bite onto my lower lip, watching as he gets rid of his own pants, rather clumsily kicking them off ââMy, my what a pleasant sight to be blessed with.ââ I arch an eyebrow looking him up and down.
Heâs quick to climb back atop of me this time nestling his hips between my legs, delivering a kiss to my shoulder the action surprising me making me blush ââHey that was my line Mc.ââ He swops down to kiss me but briefly as he rolls his hips into me leaving me lost for words and my thoughts derailed at his sudden boldness.
ââYouâve grown daring over the years.ââ He notes breaking the kiss, returning to leave kisses over the other side of my cheek, descending down my neck ââShameless?ââ he asks beginning to roll his hips against me, the lack of clothing much more revealing obviously.
Itâs not that our undergarments are see through, but they are made of light materials. Which enables me to fully feel him against my core. And o my godsâŠ
I groan at a particularly prominent thrust, which pushes me higher up Sebastian not leaving for a moment, simply continuing with whatever he has in store the deviant now proceeding to mark me above my collarbones.
ââFearless.ââ He speaks up pressing kisses against my scar, his lips his touches making me flinch initially. But heâs holding me down tenderly, pushing the chemise lower revealing more of my skin. Revealing more of the imperfections â scars Iâve earned in his absence.
ââYou are giving me too much praise, Sebastian.ââ I frown a little, letting my fingers dance over his chest, and to his sides, his hipbones.
ââNot nearly enough.ââ He raises above me, looking like a man entranced re-connecting our lips together, this time letting his tongue run over my bottom lip making me hum in appreciation. Growing confident due to his actions, I wrap my legs over the back of his thighs attempting to press him harder against him, his rhythm now stuttering as I grab his arse, squeezing.
He breaks the kiss offering a mischievous smirk ââDiabolical. Absolutely diabolical.ââ
I grin at that, showing him my tongue to further entice him. Which works perfectly. He grasps my hand like a gentleman actually, prying my hands away from his still perky ass pinning my arms to the sides of my head smirking down at me not breaking eye contact.
ââYou are the love of my life.ââ The statement has me blinking a few times as I look up at him stunned ââMy everything.ââ
Unable to respond Sebastian takes the lead, taking the approach as he did in the beginning. His hold, his closeness, his kissing all gentle and slow. It gives me the sense as ifâŠas if heâs imprinting this into his memory. Because the more we progress, and his hips begin to rut against me harder, the more I have this feeling as if he is plagued by something.
And I understand it. Giving into him, relaxing on the bed letting him take what he desires even if that means my lips will remain bruised, and climax delayed. Itâs all about him.
ââOh SebâŠââ I moan into his mouth, shifting my hips to accommodate him further seeing the need in the glare he offers. His freckled skin is so prettily flushed, hair messy, and skin slightly damp as the room grows hotter ââYou feel so good against meâŠââ I encourage nodding pulling my right hand away to push the lose strands from his forehead smiling as he kisses my wrist in the progress, panting softly.
ââMissed youâŠââ he says strained, moving us his hardness Iâm sure throbbing as it makes a mess out of me rubbing against my clit on and off again rising tingles under my fingertips âââŠmy pretty girl.ââ I smile at the compliment, dragging the top of my nails down his chest his shudder loud as he intakes breath quickly, his left hand grabbing a hold of my thigh twisting it higher the change in position making me throwback my head, as he parts my soaked folds even through the now ruined fabric.
ââSo prettyâŠââ he pants biting into his lower lip, head falling next to my own. He keeps moving, and my hand keeps progressing, finally reaching the band of his undergarment, slipping my fingers inside the dampness ââOh MC!ââ he suddenly grunts, as my fingers barely touch his hot and leaking manhood.
His hand like before is quick in catching and stopping my own from progressing, as he convulses and twitches, hip stuttering regularly.
Caught off guard I merely watch him dumbfounded as something warm and wet grazes against my fingers and palm, his hold preventing me from doing anything else. So, I remain still and accommodating until he slows to a gradual stop, still twitching now and then even as he releases my hand, letting me examine the fluid.
ââI think Iâve died.ââ He utters into my neck, his breath ticklish making me smile as I bring my hand to my lips and taste him ââOh Iâm definitely dead.ââ His voice dips lower.
Peeking at him heâs looking at me as if Iâve put the stars in the sky, while I click my tongue ââI donât think so husband dearest.ââ I smile affectionally, pushing him lightly of me and to the side, rolling on my left to face him, fingers wiped on the comforter.
ââThis must be it. The afterlife.ââ He dramatically chats ahead rolling onto his back sighing whilst I get up following him, pushing down the chemise further revealing my torso entirely, sitting next to him. He peeks at me, eyes taking me all in blush returning immediately ââYou fair maiden, like a siren coating me into a demise Iâll gladly plumet into.ââ
I grin at his poetry dipping down to kiss him gently, his right hand warm as it settles over my lower back resting there ââThat would make us both dead.ââ I point out musing ââI for one am enjoying my married life very much.ââ He perks at that.
ââA dream come, true.ââ
I remain close bend over, half resting on his chest admiring him ââOh its very much so a reality.ââ I begin sighing contently tracing his face with my left and free hand ââYou and me, together again.ââ I pause to let it sink in ââNever to be separated again.ââ I silently promise, certain of my words as I know I will stop at nothing to protect him ââYou are my everything too.ââ I admit seeing how his eyes slightly widen.
ââMy whole reason of being.ââ I whisper as I lean down, staring into his pretty eyes, my gaze slipping only to his lips and back up to capture them. He moans breathlessly into the kiss which is neither slow nor speedy. I keep it simple and rather, light as I focus on pushing the chemise lower whilst I climb onto his lap, my hair falling around our faces like a curtain.
ââMy Sebastian.ââ I break the kiss, imitating him from before but taking more time almost torturously so but in the best away possible as I kiss the corner of his nose, his temple, above his relaxed brown, then begin my descend down his cheek ââHandsome as ever.ââ I let my tongue dart out teasingly ââDrawing me in with your mere presence. Enough to keep me wanting you for years.ââ I groan, as I trace the side vein in his neck, still merely kissing him feeling how his hands push away the fabric of my chemise hands resting over my hips, trembling as I put a hold under his chin, directing his head in the way I want to. And he goes along with it.
He lets out little sighs, at the contact of my lips over his skin, specially whenever I ghost over a scar. I buckle my hips against his abdomen, his body jerking automatically which raises chuckles from him his whine loud.
ââYou even sound pretty.ââ I praise happily sitting up looking down at him. Seeing him breathless already, pleading eyes staring at me hair messy heart racing. Oh, how Iâve longed for him.
ââDashing.ââ I drag both hands, using my blunt nails to run down his chest watching as goosebumps arise over his skin ââStunning, dapper, noble. There are not enough words to describe how amazing you are.ââ I lean down to steal a kiss giggling like a schoolgirl as I pull back Sebastian following. With a hand planted onto his chest I stop him in his tracks, winking. Lowering myself over his thigh I raise an eyebrow which Iâm sure makes me look menacing as I can see his Adamâs apple bob.
ââAll I say itâs true. Iâve left you speechless.ââ I tease grasping the waistband, and without a second though pull down the fabric, watching as his manhood bobs up onto his stomach, body twitching again, his legs obviously in place as Iâm settled on him.
ââN-not true.ââ He gets out rising onto his elbows, as I observe the remnants of his release. Seeing there is to be a lot more movement and manoeuvring to get him rid of his undergarment, I grab the material and with some strength put into it tear it apart, Sebastian left with his mouth parted in a small âoâ shape.
ââAh itâs all very true.ââ I continue letting the now ruined material fall of the edge of the bed as I lie myself between his legs, my own hanging of the bed. Meanwhile I let my hands run up and down his thighs, smiling up at him ââI was never able to lie to you. I donât see the appeal of trying it now.ââ I cheekily say, dipping down to press a kiss onto the side of his inner thigh, the muscles tensing at my ministration.
ââShhh relax, my love. Relax.ââ I encourage, looking up at him. I run my nails over his other thigh, whilst starting to suck lovely marks that will bloom later for a reminder.
ââEnchantress.ââ He grinds through his teeth ââA divinity.ââ
Thanks to his high praise I let my tongue out, dragging it over his thigh making a show of it ending up moving up like a predator keeping my gaze as such, chin tilted downwards as I lick at his half-hard cock the twitch immediate.
ââItâs merely me, Sebastian.ââ I say in a low tone, grasping his manhood with my right hand rising it up taking it in, the veins, the head, everything only after looking at him. He looks destroyed already, something I always dreamed of seeing ââOnly me.ââ
And with that I experimentally suck on his tip, the groan he lets out sounding like someone is strangling him whilst his body tenses hands grasping the duvet underneath us twisting it.
With some focus I pry my left hand from his thigh, taking his hand in my own his hold tense. It doesnât deter me, as I run my tongue over the mushroom head licking the excessive precum, not enjoying the taste but enduring it gladly, seeing how he keeps trashing â and Iâve barely done anything.
Giving him some mercy thanks to the pleading look he gives me I relent, and begin to sink on his cock, flattening my tongue as I descend, closing my eyes as I concentrate on my breathing. I barely get him in my gag reflex already making my throat contract, so I help myself with my right hand, droll dripping from my lips.
Ignoring the tears in my eyes I push forward sucking once, making it my mission to please him further by sinking more.
ââNo, no, no stop, Mc pleaseâŠââ he raises up hands gentle as they cup my cheeks pulling me off him. I gasp for air, not minding the spilled tears or droll. Neither does he as heâs quick to wipe them.
ââIâm sorry I didnât meanâŠââ I begin to panic thinking I did something wrong, and that didnât like, even as he shakes his head his smile shaky at best, the kiss that follows not so reassuring.
ââYou did wonderful.ââ He breaks away to reassure me holding onto me firmly, readjusting his hold so he can manhandle me this time to sit back, higher over his thighs and to be level with him ââYouâre a minx, a temptress you are. More perfect than I ever imagined I swear it.ââ He grins happily pressing a chaste kiss ââBut I donât want to cum so soon.ââ He looks at me in despair mixed with hope.
ââYouâŠwowâŠââ it daunts on me his extreme reaction, as I observe his face needing to make sure he is telling me the truth ââOkay.ââ I find myself saying his smile winning over my heart all over again as he pulls me against him, his cock right underneath me, hot and hard.
ââI simply cannot resist you.ââ He confesses hugging me for the moment being ââYou are truly everything to me. Youâre too good to me. I want to make you feel good too.ââ and with those words and his strategically placed hands on my chemise he rips the pants portion at first, ending up destroying it with more ease than I did pulling the material away from us.
ââYou already make me feel good.ââ I state planting my knees into the mattress, my right-hand dipping between us, and through my slit collecting the wetness which I then raise up ââSee?ââ my tongue lowers again. I hold his chin with my left hand, offering two of my fingers. He gets the hint opening his mouth tongue peeking out to which I let him taste me ââHmmm.ââ I moan lightly smirking, pulling my fingers out.
I grasp his dominant hand dipping both of our hands to my folds, the astonishment on his face one I shall remember forever, as he does a double take, his fingers departing from my own making me shudder and groan as he touches my clit.
ââSee what you do to me?ââ I begin my breathing slightly unsteady as he doesnât pull away ââFeel how wet I am for you. What you do to me Sebastian.ââ I gasp as one finger prods at my entrance, entering me gradually his face one of concentration and observation.
A face Iâve seen many times before when we were studying. But never have I seen it in this context which sheds a whole new light on him. He nods at my words slowly ââGuess what?ââ I grin close to press my lips against his ear to be a tease, while he wiggles in a second fingers making me sigh at being finally touched ââThis is all you. Noone else can do this to me. Only you. Always you.ââ
He moans at that, ending up groaning as he pulls his fingers out, rolling us on the bed, time for laughter over as Iâm once more on my back, but with him spreading my legs wide open making a place for himself between them, his manhood hot as he rubs it against my wet folds.
Bent over, one hand reaches to hold the back of my head angling me however he wants me, his lips bruising as he demands all of my attention. And itâs what he gets as I moan helpless as his cock begins to push inside me. He breaks apart as if in disbelief, gasping for air the bravado gone the more he pushes in, the stretch pleasant and exciting as I want him to hurry along.
But lost in the way heâs handling us, the way he feels, I get lost in the way he looks how intense this is for him, how taunt he goes once he bottoms out, looking at me incredulously.
ââItâs not a dream.ââ I find myself saying grasping his head forcing him to stay grounded ââIt is all real.ââ I grin seeing the wobble in his lower lip ââMy husband.ââ I remind by showing him my ring, ending up dropping onto the bed, as he thrust catching me of guard.
ââWhow.ââ I say in awe blinking up at him and then glancing down to see us connected.
ââMy wife.ââ He finally speaks ââMc.ââ He says my name clearer to which I nod.
ââYours Seb. Only yours.ââ I reassure my body this time jerking as he pulls back and rather harshly thrust back in. Itâs proof of inexperience and the fact that he is driven by need mirrors our days in school perfectly. Weâd fool around, take risks, weâve explored each otherâs bodies, and have been each other firsts. But it sadly didnât go further as he was taken prisoner soon after our night of love-making that resulted in some tears but unbroken promises.
ââM-mine. Only mine Mc.ââ He nods vigorously repositioning his hand, one on my hip one on the bed a look of determination drawing itself across his features ââMine.ââ He says like itâs a matter of fact, pulling back only to set up a rather ruthless pace. Having imagined our reunion in these kinds of circumstances as well â because I have needs to duh â Iâve not imagined him to be like he is.
To just take from the get-go in such a manner. He was always delicate when it came to the more intimate matters, even with his eagerness and firey passion. I can see both of that here, I can feel it in the way heâs changing and angling his hips differently, eyes focused solemnly on my face as I hold onto the bed for dear life, the feeling of what were merely tingles before now turned into live sparks, that are zapping through my body.
It has my toes and fingers curling, the need to curl in on myself great as my thighs begin to shake, my lower abdomen pooling with insane amount of heat. It has tears gather in my eyes once more but this time for other reasons as I feel good all over it being overwhelming.
I practically shout as something brushes my clit. It has me forcing my eyes open as I see Sebastian lick his fingers and drop it to my clitoris, his hand calloused and rough but oh my gods its perfect and exactly what I crave for. What I need.
ââThatâs it, Mc.ââ He approves a small smile forming on his lips ââYou feel so good.ââ His jaw goes tight as he clenches his teeth, suddenly pinching my clit.
ââAh fuckkkk Sebastian.ââ I yelp shaking my head ââHarder, fuck me harder, Iâm going to cum, Iâm going to cumâŠââ I repeat like a broken record suddenly hugging myself keeping my breast from bouncing as an electric current is running all over.
ââAnd who is making youâŠughâŠcum huh? Who is the oneâŠahhh, cherishing you like you deserveâŠugh to be?ââ he says through his teeth, his gaze wild as he stops for a moment twisting my left leg over his chest and shoulder changing everything entirely the new angle, making my eyes cross over one of Sebastianâs hands pushing my arms away as he grabs onto my boob, squeezing it.
ââY-y-you.ââ I reply shakily having a death grip on his arm not knowing what else to do. Itâs hard to process that I need to breathe at the moment, my body doing things on its own.
ââI didnât hear you, dear wife.ââ He barks with an edge in his voice. His eyes. His demeanour.
But itâs not enough to make me realize it, as he leaves me absolutely dumb on his cock, the only thing on my mind selfishly is to cum.
ââYou, you, you, you Sebastian.ââ I speak strained my muscles contracting, as his hand resumes circling my clit sealing the deal ââMy Sebastian, mine.ââ I babble, eyes closing tight as white noise fills my ears barely registering the noises Iâm still making, only feeling how he rocks against me, how he moves so precise and hard the orgasm washing over otherworldly as it keeps going on.
Faintly I am aware of Sebastian manoeuvring me into another pose, continuing past the shakes and trembles that overrun everything else. Sooner or later something in my brain kicks it into gear to pump air into my lungs as I breathe heavily, enjoying the tingling but otherwise spent.
Feeling an arm settle over my stomach is what encourages me to come back so to speak. I raise a hand up to wipe away the corner of my eyes only then prompting them open. Looking around I acknowledge we have been turned to lie comfortably on the bed with our heads cushioned against the pillows.
Or wellâŠmine. Glancing down feeling the heat radiating on my right itâs Sebastian. Instead of backing away like Iâd assume men would do, he has plastered himself onto my right side, using my bicep as a cushion, one arm thrown over my mid-section, one leg over my right.
Dropping my arm, Iâm surprised to find he is awake and has come to his senses quicker than I have as he grasps my left hand, fingers dancing with my own. It doesnât take him long to feel the outline of the wedding ring.
ââI didnât even get you an engagement ring.ââ He mutters bending my hand holding it above my chest as he examines my hand and the piece of jewellery.
ââTechnically that would be on me too.ââ I think aloud my voice slightly hoarse. Must be the screaming ââI did propose and marry us.ââ I snort ââDid all the heavy lifting, didnât I?ââ
I turn to look down at him, just as he peeks up at me, fingers intertwining with my own as he rests our hands next to me for comfort.
ââI did have a ring.ââ Is what he says, the statement leaving me bewildered which Iâm not quick enough to hide as he sighs, looking away ââI had a few ideas for proposing. A few spots to choose from.ââ He quiets down again. Bending my right hand, I start to caress his back in reassurance.
ââKnowing you back then, you had the most rageous ideas, didnât you?ââ I smirk looking ahead of us at the painting I have above the dresser. Itâs a muggle painting so it doesnât move, but it depicts a castle in Scotland. A castle thatâs very similar to Hogwarts. It was too charming not to buy.
ââYouâve no idea.ââ He blows air looking up at me ââI think youâd flat out reject me at some of the propositions I had in mind.ââ
I laugh ââI probably would.ââ I agree looking down to meet his gaze amused. We fall silent.
ââI tried to tame a dragonâŠââ
ââOh, Seb noo!ââ
ââHeyyyy I was head over heels! Iâd do anything! You deserve the best!ââ he rambles as I laugh in amusement observing as he raises onto his left elbow looking at me adoringly ââI swear.ââ He chuckles ââI was foolish at times and even stupid. But crazy? I was crazily in love with you. And that has not changed.ââ His smile is exactly the smile he used to have back then.
And it slowly daunts on me. Reality sinking in. That he is here to stay. I have finally freed him. He is in my grasp. He still loves me.
ââOh hey, no tears. Why the tears?ââ he jumps as they gather quickly and are instant to fall down my cheeks ââMc.ââ
Instead of answering I kiss him softly.
ââIâm just so happy.ââ I admit smiling widely ââYou make me incredibly happy itâs all.ââ
At this he is taken aback features softening, and Iâm sure his own eyes filling with tears ââMe too Mc. Me too.ââ
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
// Masterlist 2024 //
Copyright 2024© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.
#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow x mc#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy smut
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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased
harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader
CHAPTER FIVE (see full series list here)
1992
You reunite with Remus later in the Great Hall as you take your seats at the staff table beside each other.
"Dementors every where, just lovely," you grumble, before looking at Remus with a small smirk. "So...remind me why you didn't decide to tell me you were coming?"
Remus sighs, a small guilty smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
You scoff, hitting his arm jokingly. "Fuck you, I could've spent my summer looking forward to having my best friend here with me. When did you find out?"
"Last month. Dumbledore said you had recommended me."
"I didn't necessarily recommend you, I just...may have mentioned your name along with the words 'great' and 'looking for a job'."
Remus chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm sure. But seriously, thank you. I really didn't expect him to hire me."
You lay a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. "You're brilliant, and I am right: you're going to be a great teacher. And hey, he hired me, didn't he? Only one who would." With that, you're reminded of your little visit from the Ministry and open your mouth to tell him about it but close it once you spot Dumbledore standing up to begin his speech.
"Welcome!" he booms brightly. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it's best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."
He clears his throat and continues. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
You feel your heart start to beat faster at the topic at hand, and suddenly become very interested in the empty porcelain plate in front of you.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," he says, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises â or even Invisibility Cloaks."
You exchange a knowing look with Remus.
"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."
Dumbledore pauses and looks very seriously around the Hall, and nobody moves or makes a sound.
"On a happier note," he says with renewed joy, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
You clap enthusiastically, smiling widely as the room fills with some...scattered, rather unethusiastic, applause. You spy Harry, Ron, and Hermione clapping heartily and smile proudly at them. You glance around at the rest of the staff, clapping politely, and notice the sour expression on Snape's face. His gaze is dripping with pure loathing as he glares at Remus. You don't know whether to be pissed at Snape or to laugh at his pettiness.
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continues, as Remus' applause dies away, "well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
You beam down the table at Hagrid, clapping loudly. He's gone completely crimson, hiding his happy face in the tangle of his black beard.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore concludes. "Let the feast begin!"
The plates and goblets lining the table in front of you fill with delicious food and you waste no time piling things onto your plate. The Hall echoes with talk, laughter and the clatter of cutlery against porcelain.
"So, now that you're here, I guess I can talk to you about...y'know," you say quietly to Remus, though the lowered volume isn't really necessary when the Great Hall is alive with such chatter and noise. "Got a visit from the Minister of Magic and a few of his buddies the last day."
"I expected as much," he replies with a sigh. "Actually, I'm so sorry, I meant to visit as soon as I found out but it was a full â "
"It's alright, Moony. I'm glad you didn't," you say with a weak smile. "They're monitoring the house again. I don't want you to have to get caught up in all this."
"Still...I feel bad about leaving you to deal with that alone."
You wave him off. "It's fine, honestly. I'm very brave." You chuckle at that last part, elbowing Remus playfully.
He doesn't seem to find it too funny, and worry lines crease his eyes as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it, seemingly choosing against whatever he was going to say and returning to his meal.
â â§â *â ăâ§â *â ă
The weeks pass much quicker than usual, spending less time bored and alone now that you have Remus to pester. Every Monday at breakfast, you wait anxiously for your delivery of The Daily Prophet, practically snatching it out of the air and rifling through it and scouring for any mention of Sirius. There are plenty, of course â constant reminders from the Ministry that they are doing everything they can to locate him.
Nothing interesting really happens, apart from Draco Malfoy throwing such a fit over Hagrid's lesson that his father is practically trying to get the heads of both Hagrid and Buckbeak on the chopping block. You understand that he was hurt...but in a magical world, most injuries are just not worth fretting over when you can pop up to Madam Pomfrey's and she'll have you mended in a minute.
You check up on Hagrid a few times for a quick cup of tea and it's obvious that the incident has shaken him and he's lost most of his excitement for his lessons. You feel awful. Hagrid has too kind of a soul to be subjected to the threats of Lucius Malfoy.
Speaking of which, you notice the uncanny resemblance between Draco and his father. Your distaste for Lucius has been present ever since you went to school together, and do your best not to let that impact the way you treat Draco â even if the fact that he decides to chat for most of his astronomy class while you are talking drives you up the walls. He is only a boy, after all, and we cannot help what values we are raised with and by whom we learn them from.
You really do wish Lucius hadn't passed on that hair to him though. It's a monstrosity.
You sigh as you sit at your desk, reading over your third years' homework. You hum quietly to yourself, Dubh sleeping soundly on your lap as you work.
You give Harry's a glance, ticking the labels scribbled beneath each star, before you find one incorrectly labeled and positioned star that strikes you as familiar. You shuffle through the other students' charts, eventually landing on Ron Weasley's, taking it out and holding it against Harry's in comparison. Same exact mistake and same exact misspelling of 'Gamma Geminorum'.
You chuckle, writing, 'Nice try' on both charts and moving on to the next.
â â§â *â ăâ§â *â ă
The Halloween feast passes with you and Remus chatting amicably, the Great Hall lit up by floating candle-filled pumpkins, flaming bright orange streamers and clouds of fluttering live bats. And the food â Hogwarts dinners are always something you miss during the summer holidays.
Later that evening, you walk through the hallways back to your room, when you hear Dumbledore yell loudly from the Gryffindor corridor. Confused and curious, you change course and head down the hallway to find a large crowd of students murmuring, all pushing themselves up onto their tippy-toes to see over the heads in front of them.
Dumbledore is at the front with Percy Weasley beside him, so you push through the students to see what all the fuss is about.
The Fat Lady's portrait is void of the woman, replaced by vicious slashes ripping through the canvas, leaving strips fallen on the ground beneath it.
Dumbledore looks at the strips of canvas on the ground, glancing up and noticing you, before his eyes shift to your right and you turn and see McGonagall, Snape and Remus hurrying towards you.
"We need to find her," he says. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" Comes a cackling voice and you immediately know the speaker.
Peeves joyfully bobs over the group of students, blowing a raspberry at one trembling first-year.
"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore says calmly, and Peeves mischief fades quickly and he takes on a much more professional tone.
"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he says cheerfully. "Poor thing," he adds, unconvincingly.
"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asks quietly.
"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves replies, with a devious expression, as though he's got something truly shocking to reveal. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see."
Peeves flips over, giggling, winking at you through his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
â â§â *â ăâ§â *â ă
->-> read chapter six here!
â all kinds of interaction are appreciated âĄ
sorry it's been almost a week since last upload! had a bit of writer's block đ
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#angst#angst with a happy ending#harry potter#fanfiction#the marauders#fanfic#hp#marauders
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Seven summers, part 2.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader
Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Series Masterlist
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Fourth summer
Y/n's giddy and excited. Today's the day she's been waiting for all year. She's meeting Draco today! They exchanged letters all year. Draco even sent her a package for Christmas. It was filled with a pink bottle of ink that glows in the dark and a notebook that makes her doodles move after she's finished them. Y/n presses the notebook to her chest bouncing up and down on her heel. Over the year, Draco told her a lot about all the magical things that happen at Hogwarts. Y/n spends half her year dreaming about the magic castle and even more time about Draco in it. It's fair to say she developed a crush. The only problem is that she hasn't found a way yet to tell Draco she's not a witch. She drafted about a hundred letters in which she tried to explain the misunderstanding. She never was satisfied with any of them. They all ended up being thrown into the trash. Her developing crush did not help much in finding the right words. She's excited about today but also a bit afraid. She hasn't decided yet whether (or how) to tell Draco about the whole not-being-a-witch thing. She's afraid he won't take it very well.
Draco and her agreed to meet at the entrance of Diagon Alley. However, y/n decided that she would talk Draco into spending the day in the normal world. He's shown her his world last summer and this summer she wants to show him hers. Also, she hopes it will change his opinions on muggles a little bit. Just enough, to make it easier for her to tell him the truth.
Suddenly, y/n hears a loud "Y/n! Over here!" behind her. Draco stands on the other side of the street. He's wearing a black shirt over an equally black pair of pants. His hair got longer, y/n notices. Draco has one hand in his pocket and the other one waves at her. Draco lets a car pass and crosses the street. He's got an equally big smile on his face as y/n. "Hey.", y/n says almost breathlessly. For a moment, both don't really know what to say but when their eyes meet, they both have to laugh at the awkward situation. "C'mer!", y/n says and opens her arms. Draco steps into them more confidently than last time and he hugs her closely. Y/n can't help but breathe in deeply. When they let go of each other she says: "It's so good to see you! How have you been?". "Good.", he tells her, "I'm just glad we're having summer holidays." Y/n nods agreeingly. "Oh, yes! I feel like this school year was a lot harder than the last one.", she tells him. "Yes, and don't get me started on these damn dementors.", Draco answers, rolling his eyes. Y/n smiles understandingly. Draco told her all about the soul-sucking creatures that guarded his school this year. "Honestly, I don't understand who thought it was a good idea to send these creatures to a school full of minors.", she says as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. Draco nods, then nudges her. "Enough talking about school. We did that all year. Let's have some fun today!", he tells her. Y/n gives him a bright smile. "Yes! Actually, I have an idea what we can do today. Have you ever been to an arcade before?", she asks him. "Uhm, no? Is that a muggle thing?", Draco asks confused. "Yes! It's a lot of fun. I promise!", y/n says enthusiastically. "Do we have to do that?", Draco half-heartedly tries to change her mind. Y/n folds her hand in front of her face and gives him puppy dog eyes. "Pretty please?", she begs. Draco dramatically rolls his eyes and gives her a lopsided grin. "Alright, but only if you're paying!", he teases her. Almost immediately y/n's hands shoot into her bag and she produces a large sack full of coins. "I'm prepared for that!", she announces proudly. Draco has to laugh at that. "Well, I guess that gives me no other option but to trust you.", he tells her and hooks his arms into hers. "Lead the way then!", he says.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It turns out that Draco is exactly how you imagine a wizard to be like when it comes to arcade games, namely absolutely clueless. When it comes to arcade game machines like Pacman, he absolutely sucks. He gets frustratedly quickly and tells y/n offendedly that "the game sucks" and "it's a muggle thing so it must suck anyway". Y/n just can laugh at Draco's pettiness and switches them to more hands-on games like whack-a-mole and air hockey. Draco is a lot better at these kinds of games. He absolutely slays at the whack-a-mole game. At some point, y/n can just watch Draco's quick reactions with an open mouth. He needs some time to adjust to the air hockey game, but once he's found his groves he absolutely destroys her at that game as well. "Ha, who's laughing now?", he asks her triumphantly after beating her after yet another game. "Alright, alright.", y/n raises her hands in defense. "You've beaten me. You're really good.", she tells him. "And?", he asks her demandingly while crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And I'm sorry I made fun of you earlier.", she gives in. Draco grins and puts an arm around her. "Let's get out of here.", he tells her and tries to lead her to the exit. "Wait, what about our prizes?", she stops him. "What prizes?", he asks her. "Well, we can exchange these here for a prize.", y/n tells him while raising the tickets they've collected. "Let's go. I even let you choose what we get!", y/n says excitedly and takes his hand, pulling him towards the counter in front of the wall of stuffed animals and other knickknacks.
"So, what do you want to get? We can choose anything that's marked with a blue point.", y/n tells Draco while letting her gaze wander over the different prizes on display. "These all look rubbish.", Draco tells her with a distasteful look on his face. "Of course, they're all trash! They're arcade prizes!", y/n tells him. "Then why do we even bother?", he asks. "Well... they're keepsakes! To remember our time together today!", y/n tries to explain, "Now, what do you want? Uh... what about that dragon figure over there?". Draco pulls a face. "That doesn't even look like a real dragon. What kind of race is that even supposed to be?", he points out. "Uhm.. dunno. A fictional one?", y/n answers and Draco gives her an unconviced look. "Look, it's not about the prize, it's about... the experience!", she tells him and turns around to the man behind the counter. "We take the dragon. The green one!", she declares.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I guess that was fun.", Draco says as the two of them walk along the Thames. "It was, wasn't it?", y/n says and smiles. "I wish we could see each other more often.", she tells him a little bit embarrassed. "Actually, so do I.", Draco says and tries to avoid eye contact with her. Y/n giggles and hooks her arms into Draco's. Draco shifts his arm however and takes her hand instead. They both blush and look away. "You know... I'm around over the Christmas break. Is there any chance that you're around too?", he asks her. Y/n smiles enthusiastically. "Absolutely! This year I'll get you a Christmas present too!", she tells him excitedly. "You already got me the dragon.", Draco points out. Y/n laughs. "First of all, you won that. And second of all, it's something to remember me by until Christmas.", she teases him. Draco nudges her. "As if I could forget you. Plus, you are going to send me letters, don't you?", he asks suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Of course! I mean I need someone to tell me what Harry Potter is up to next school year.", she grins at him. "Well in that case, don't you forget to update me on Becky and her 'white trash' boyfriend.", he hits back. "Pff... they probably broke up again before the end of summer.", y/n waves the comment on her archnemesis aside. Draco thinks about that for a second. "That's kinda stupid. Why be together with someone if you're not serious about it. We'd be nothing like that.", Draco thinks out loud. Actually, he didn't mean to say the last part out loud. Y/n halts in her step. "We? As in boyfriend and girlfriend?", she asks with her eyes wide open. Draco clears his throat before quickly saying: "Well, um, yes. Hypothetically speaking, of course". Draco pulls at the hem of his shirt. Since when has it gotten so hot? "Oh, of course.", y/n quickly replies trying to hide her disappointment. Of course, he didn't look at her like that. Actually, Becky has made it abundantly clear this year that no boy ever would be interested in y/n like that, like ever. Draco notices her sad face. "I-i mean... it's not like I don't think you're attractive or anything like that.", Draco tries to save the situation. "You don't think that?", she asks confused. "Y-yes. Wait, no, I mean I do think you're attractive.", he clarifies. "Oh, really?", is all that y/n manages to say stupidly. "Yes, really.", Draco tells her softly. Y/n gives him a shy smile. "Thank you. Actually, I think you're rather attractive, too.", she tells him. "Even for a ghost?", the blonde teases her. Y/n slaps his arm and laughs. "Stop, I said that ages ago! Plus, I was a tad agitated, you know.", y/n defends herself. "Maybe, but there was some truth in it.", Draco says. "No, it wasn't.", she argues. "So my hair is not the same color as my skin?", Draco asks and raises an eyebrow. "Well... not if you sunbathe from time to time.", she points out sharp-tongued. "Man, I am going to miss your insults when I go back to Hogwarts next week.", Draco laughs shaking his head. "Oh, don't worry I'm gonna keep'em coming. Just keep looking out for that owl of yours.", y/n teases him. "And just 120 days until you can insult me in person again." Draco smiles back at her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Christmas after the fourth summer
Y/n loves the idea of a white Christmas. Snow softly falls to the ground. A nice walk through the town. Some last-minute present shopping. Then return to your warm home, have a nice cup of tea, and watch a Christmas movie under the blankets. Unfortunately, English Christmas is nothing like that. It's dark, it's wet and the city is too hectic and way too loud.
So, she's not sure why she agreed to go Christmas shopping with Draco. Right now, she is standing at the side of a busy street. Pulling the hood of her bright yellow raincoat a bit deeper into her face, she hopes to protect herself from the pouring rain. Whose idea was it again to come here during the busiest days of the year? And then during this weather?, she thinks grudgingly to herself. A lorry drives by a bit too close to the sidewalk and a huge wave of rain water hits her legs. "Great, it's in my shoes now.", she grumbles to herself while trying to wipe the dirty street water off her legs. Suddenly, the rain stops falling around her and her vision gets a bit darker. Someone's holding an umbrella above her head. "Hey.", she hears Draco say closely behind her. She whirls around and takes a few steps back, noticing just how close Draco is standing behind her. "Whoa, watch out, the road!", Draco shouts, grabs her arm, and pulls her away from the road, closer to him. Standing together under the umbrella, in close proximity, the only thing that comes out of y/n's mouth is an echoed: "Hey". Draco gives her a soft smile. "Nice jacket.", he smirks. For a moment, y/n takes a closer look at him. He's wearing a dark, fancy coat and a dark green scarf. All in all, he looks very sophisticated, she thinks. Meanwhile, she's sporting her yellow rain jacket and a pair of jeans that, thanks to the lorry, looks like she fell knee-first into the mud. Also, her hair got wet earlier and now sticks to her forehead like a wet mop. "Thanks, it's the latest trend among muggles, haven't you heard?", she counters back, trying to hide the fact that she feels embarrassed about how she looks like a toddler during his first stroll in the rain. "Obviously.", Draco grins. "Have you been waiting long?", he asks her. "No, not really.", y/n lies. Actually, she arrived half an hour early but she's afraid that would seem a tad desperate.
"So, we're gift hunting, yes? Who do you need gifts for?", Draco asks. Y/n swirls around, looking at the different shops on the street. "Uh, for my parents and my best friend Leila. You?", she replies. Draco puts his hands into his pockets. "My parents, I guess.", he just says. "Nothing for your friends?", she asks. Draco hesitates for a moment before saying: "I'm not seeing them until the new year anyways, so why bother?". Y/n shrugged. "Is there anything particular that you are looking for when it comes to your parents?", she asks him. Draco thinks about this for a second. "My mom would probably like something from Twilfitt and Tattings or Madame Primpernelle's.", he then says. Y/n doesn't know these shops but her best guess is that they are behind the moving stone wall. "Let's go there then first. I'm sure we'll find something nice for her!", y/n tells him.
Draco leads her back to Diagon Alley. Of course, y/n pretends that the moving bricks are the absolute most normal thing she's ever seen in her life. However, she can only marvel in awe at what lies behind the wall. The alley doesn't look like the last time she was here. Sparkling lights moved above their heads. The whole place looks so much more magical than before. Draco takes y/n hand. "This way.", he says and pulls her after him. Y/n is surprised at how casually Draco touches her but immediately wraps her hand around his. Draco pulls her to a clothing shop that reads "Twilfitt and Tattings". A woman in fine clothes greets them inside and looks y/n up and down. Clearly, y/n is not dressed well enough to be in a shop like this. "Mrs. Annesley, good to see you again. I am looking for something that my mother would like.", Draco greets the woman casually. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Looking for a Christmas gift? What a wonderful son you are!", Mrs. Annesley chirps immediately, completely ignoring y/n's presence. Mrs. Annesley proceeds to show Draco a range of different accessories. Eventually, Draco chooses a dark scarf for his mother. Mrs. Annesley rings them up and the two are on their way.
"Is there anything you want to get your parents?", Draco asks y/n. Y/n just shrugs. "I don't know.", she just says. She can't really tell him that she probably won't find anything for her parents around here. "What about your dad? Anything he'd like?", she quickly tries to change the topic. All of a sudden, Draco feels a bit at a loss. "I don't know either. I think I'll just ask my mom to get something for both of us. She knows my dad better than I.", he says embarrassed. Y/n thinks it's a bit weird that Draco has no real idea for a gift for his father. "Well, my dad likes cars.", she tells him. Draco gives her a suspicious side glace. "Like the muggle thing for transportation?", he asks in disbelief. "U-uh, yeah...", y/n stutters. Cars are so normal to her, for a moment she forgot that Draco doesn't like anything muggle-related. "You know, maybe cars could be improved with magic.", she tries to explain but feels like she is only digging a deeper hole for herself. "Muggle transportation and magic?", Draco says in contemplation. Y/n nods at him vigorously. "Think about it! Muggle technology paired with magic. Sounds pretty innovative to me.", y/n points out excitedly. Draco shrugs. "I guess. You want to go back to the muggle world then? I don't think we can find anything car-related here.", Draco proposes. Y/n is relieved that this time it's him proposing to spend time in her world. "Sure, that's a great idea.", she grins at him.
Several shops later, y/n got a model car for her father, a sappy romance novel for her mother, and a bracelet for her friend. Happily, y/n looks at the bags of stuff she carries with her. "So, what know? The evening is still young.", Draco says. "Oh, I know! There's a Christmas market at the square down the street. We can have some hot cocoa there.", y/n suggests. "A Christmas market? I've never been to one."; Draco remarks. "Geez, then we have to go! They're fun!", y/n says and takes his hand.
A Christmas market is nothing Draco's ever seen before. Little, wooden shacks stand next to each other in rows. The smell of fried food wavers through the air and strings of lights are spun between the huts. Y/n and Draco stroll over the market and look at what the different stalls are selling. There are lanterns with stars and glitter, handmade candy, and decorations for Christmas trees. "Oh, you have to try these!", y/n says and runs off to a chart at the other side of the street. She comes back with a steaming paper bag. "What's that?", Draco asks. "Roasted chestnuts. They're great. Look you have to peel them like this and... voilĂĄ!", y/n says and presents him with the peeled chestnut. Draco looks at the chestnut uncertain. He's not sure stuff that falls from trees is something that people should eat. However, he eventually takes it and tries it. "And?", y/n says expectantly. Draco chews on the hot and very dry thing. "It's alright I guess.", he says trying to sound approving. Y/n giggles. "You don't like it.", she points out. Draco has to laugh too. "Hell no. Why on earth would anybody want to eat this?", he says, Y/n has to laugh harder. "They're chestnuts. It's a Christmas market. They go together, whether you like it or not.", she replies. "Well then, give me another one.", Draco sighs dramatically. Y/n and Draco sit side by side eating chestnuts and watching the buzzing of the market.
"Oh, actually I got something for you!", y/n suddenly exclaims and starts digging through her bag. "Huh? For me?", Draco says flipping a chestnut's shell away from his jacket. She produces a little box from her back and presents it to Draco. Draco takes the box from her and opens it. "What is this?", Draco says in absolute bewilderment. "A tamagotchi!", y/n grins. "A what?", he asks. "A tamagotchi. It's a digital pet.", y/n tries to explain. Upon seeing Draco's confused expression, y/n takes the device and explains how to use it. "I've been so free to already set up your pet. It will bleep if it wants something. If you don't take care of it, it dies.", y/n states seriously. Draco looks at her even more confused. "But... it's not alive.", Draco says as if she's crazy. "Well, yes, theoretically, but...", y/n doesn't know how to explain the concept to him. "You just have to take care of it. Take it as a reminder not to forget about me!", she eventually argues. Draco grins. "As if I ever could forget about you!", he tells her. Y/n blushes and pushes the tamagotchi back into Draco's hands. Draco stops her hands from pulling back and he carefully strokes with his thumb over her hand. "I've got something for you, too.", he says quietly. He lets go of her hand and pulls out a satin sachet from his jacket's pocket. Y/n opens the sachet and pulls out a silver necklace. At the bottom of the necklace, a tear-shaped pendant dangles from the chain. An emerald stone reflects the Christmas lights that hang above them. "It's beautiful!", y/n gasps. "Yeah, well, I hoped you'd like it.", Draco says rubbing the back of his head embarrassed. "Help me put it on!", y/n says excitedly and hands him back the necklace. Y/n turns around and waits for him expectantly. Softly, Draco pushes her hair out of the way and pulls the necklace over her head. When he's done, y/n turns around and asks: "And? How does it look?". Draco looks at her for a moment. Y/n's cheeks are a bit red. He's not sure if it is the Christmas lights above them, but he's sure there's a twinkling sparkle in y/n's eyes. "It looks great on you.", he says breathlessly. At that, y/n gives him one of her booming smiles.
"It's late. I guess we should head back to the station.", Draco points out. Even though y/n doesn't want to go, she nods. They get up and make their way to the station. There are a lot of people at the station. Families traveling to the countryside over the holidays. Young people taking the train home for Christmas. And y/n and Draco amidst them. "It's been fun today.", y/n says suddenly feeling very shy. "Yes, it's always fun with you, actually.", Draco replies. Y/n has to giggle. "Oh really? Even if you lose at stupid arcade games?", she teases him. Draco gives her a sly grin. "If I remember correctly, I won a dragon.", he shoots back. Y/n giggles again. Draco takes her hand and pulls her a bit closer to him. Suddenly, they are standing in close proximity again. "I'm really going to miss you.", Draco tells her. Y/n gives him an encouraging smile. "I'm going to miss you, too.", she says. "You know, there's no girl like you at my school.", he tells her quietly. I bet there isn't, y/n thinks to himself. "Well, there is only one me.", she says nervously. Draco smiles softly and says: "Yeah, there is only you". Y/n and Draco look at each other. Y/n takes hold of Draco's other hand. There's anticipation in the air. Both know what's about to happen, but neither has the courage to make the first step. Screw this, y/n thinks and leans in. She curses herself when she feels Draco drop her hand. She almost starts to lean back again when she suddenly feels Draco's hand at the back of her neck pulling her close. Then, their lips meet. They softly brush over each other. Y/n barely can register the kiss. Her head is spinning and her heart feels like it's about to explode. Draco puts some pressure behind the kiss before he pulls back. Y/n's mind is absolutely blank. She's surprised that she remembers how to breathe. Draco seems to feel the same way, at least he lets out a ragged breath. They just stare at each other with wide eyes.
A loud voice rips the two of them out of their trance. "Train 512 to Westbury is arriving at platform 1. Please keep your distance to the arriving train.", an electric voice booms through the hall. Draco clears his voice. "That's, uh, me. Gotta take that train. Our driver is picking me up at the station.", he says. "Oh, uh, yes, of course!", y/n quickly replies. The train arrives at the platform and the travelers rush to the doors in hopes of claiming one of the rare seats on the train. However, Draco doesn't move a muscle. Y/n's gaze switches between Draco and the train. Suddenly, Draco pulls her close. "Promise to see each other next summer?", he whispers. Y/n wraps her arms around him and whispers back: "Of course, silly!". There's a whistle behind them and y/n lets go of him quickly. "Go, you miss your train!", she tells him. Draco takes another look at her, then quickly enters the train. When the door closes, Draco lingers by the door giving y/n a solemn smile. Y/n can't help but think that he looks a little sad. When the train starts moving, she starts jumping up and down waving.
"Merry Christmas, Draco! And you better be sending me letters until next summer!", she yells. People are turning around to her in bewilderment. Y/n can see Draco laughing and shaking his head before the train door gets out of sight.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SUMMARY:
âHarry Potter.â The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.
âThe Boy Who Lived.â
A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy couldâve been so much more if heâd not stepped down this bloodied path.
Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.
âCome to die.â
Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.
---
When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.
---
THIRTY-THREE EXCERPT:
Sebastian leaned forward in his seat. âYou donât think itâs Grindelwald, do you?â he asked with a frown. âCould a dark lord control them?â
âHe didnât say,â said Simon. âHe did say that occasionally one or two of them will float out to sea before coming back, butâŠâ Simon met Tomâs gaze, a dark look entering his eyes. âAbout six to seven of them have gone missing. They canât find them and they have no idea what happened to them.â
âFuck,â said Harry, growing pale. He rubbed his face with his hands. âFuck.â
âWell, that canât be good, yeah?â said Roland, glancing around the group.
Alphard shook his head. âThe dementors arenât supposed to leave Azkaban. Theyâre under ministry control or at least thatâs what the public assumes.â He sighed. âHowever, the agreement between the ministry and the dementors is a delicate, fragile one. The dementors could turn on us at any time when theyâve found a better source of food.â
âWhy is your father informing you of this?â asked Tom. âThis shouldnât affect us, should it?â
âThe issue is their numbers are dropping faster than he realized,â said Simon. âHe said even more might disappear or go missing. Heâs advised us to practice the patronus charm as much as possible.â
âThe patronus charm?â said Quintus. âBut thatâs not to be taught until the end of our sixth year. Thatâs advanced magic. He canât think theyâll come here, do you?â
William shrugged. âThere are plenty of towns and cities between Hogwarts and Azkaban, so he doubted it, but he still wanted us to practice. Theyâre going to alert the public soon and the staff of Hogwarts. Problem is I can barely conjure even a bit of some proper mist as a seventh year and most of you lot havenât covered it yet.â
âHe also said we should be on alert and always keep some chocolate on hand.â
Sebastian shook his head. âChocolate, that I can do, but learning the patronus charm is out of the question.â
âWhy?â asked Harry. âIâve seen you duel in class. Youâre strong enough.â
A number of Slytherins snorted.
âStrength is not the issue,â said Tom softly.
âHarry, itâs a light spell,â drawled Sebastian. âI was casting dark magic when I was five years old.â
âWhat does that have anything to do with it?â
âIt doesnât like dark magic,â said Marcus. âAnd Iâd prefer to not die a horrible death by maggots.â
Harry rolled his eyes. âIâve done a dark spell or two and I can cast it.â
âCome off it,â said Sebastian. He shook his head, while the others shifted with interest. âWe all know youâre powerful, Harry, but the patronus charm is a different brand of magic. Most sixth years never master it and like Will said, he canât do much of anything even in his seventh year. Hell, a lot of adults canât cast it.â
Harry lifted a defiant eyebrow and pulled out his wand. A little chill of thrill ghosted up Tomâs spine. Harry⊠you canât be telling us that you can cast the patronus charm⊠can you?Â
He was powerful, yes. Tom had witnessed that power firsthand. Heâd seen Harryâs mastery of wandless magic, of wordless magic. It came to him with ease. But a light spell of this caliber? That was something else entirely.
But Harry regularly proved himself to be extraordinary.
âExpecto Patronum,â whispered Harry.
Light pulsed.
White light glowed, power filling the room. Soft gasps rippled through the group. The blinding, glorious light flooded the dimly lit dorm room, chasing away the shadows in the corners. A misty stag stood tall in front of Tom. The stag dipped his head closer to him and Tom reached out, but the stag vanished.Â
It left Tom bereft.
#harry potter#tom riddle#tomarry#hp#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#terrible but great#mywriting#harry potter/tom riddle#isa's writing
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Here's what I believe everyone's Boggarts would be (first in 3rd year, then 5th, then as an adult, since I think one's greatest fear would generally change based on experience.) what do we think??
Snape: Tobias / Lily and James together / Lily dead. I think these are all self-explanatory.
Lily: dementor / group of Death Eaters / Voldemort. We know Snape told Lily about Dementors pretty early on, and I think the idea would have really taken root in her imagination. As she learnt more about the WW she would have feared a Death Eater attack, and then later Voldemort himself. (I also like hers being the same as Harry's at one point.)
James: lethifold / Lily dead. The latterâs obvious, but I can see Jamesâs dad telling him about lethifolds as a kid and James having nightmares for weeks. I certainly would, theyâre by far the scariest creature in the fantastic beasts book imo. I think it would be this because James probably had a fairly sheltered upbringing; not much to fear apart from stories his parents told him. If he was younger it might have been the heart from the Warlock's Hairy Heart in Beedle, but I think he'd probably have outgrown that by age 14.
Peter: dark wizard / inferius. Growing up in the WW Peter knew there were dark wizards and the idea probably terrified him. I think it would be just a "generic dark wizard" but maybe specifically death eaters. However the moment he found out about inferi it would have changed to that, pretty much permanently until he returns to Voldemort after PoA and does whatever fucked up thing he does to create the Voldemort Baby.
Sirius: nundu / himself as a death eater. Like James, Sirius would have grown up somewhat sheltered and knowing about magical creatures, and the nundu (second scariest in FB imo), a giant leopard that wipes out entire villages with its disease-breath, would have seemed very impressive to Sirius. The latterâs more obvious, but I think Sirius deeply feared that he wouldnât be able to get away from his family, that heâd end up just like them.
Remus: full moon. no comment, we stan a consistent king.
#the lethifold and the nundu freaked me out as a kid haha#because i think unlike others they give you a sense of powerlessness#you can't fight in your sleep and you can't fight disease (at least not easily)#anyway pls comment if you've thoughts about this!
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Wizarding Worldbuilding
I want to reorganize my pinned post a little, so this is one of the masterposts I'll be posting to link at the top of my blog and continuously edit.
Wizarding Families:
The Gaunts and their inbreeding problem
House of Black: How Important Were They and the Black Madness
House of Black: Titles and Inheritance
Population Size and Stats:
How many muggleborns actually are there in the UK?
More about calculating the size of the magical population in the UK
Class in the Wizarding World
Magic & Genetics:
Magic and Genetics
Magic and Genetics: Magical Beings
On the question of male veela
Magic & Religion:
Religion in Magical Britain
Religion in Magical Britain: Godparents
More about magical religion and a little about wizard saints
Magical Creatures:
What is up with house elves?
Dementors & Azkaban
Vampires in HP
Other:
A little bit about magical owls and pets
Wizarding Fashion in the UK
Hogwarts Robes Design (one of them)
Homosexuality in the Wizarding World
Divorce in the Wizarding World
The Sword of Gryffindor is Excalibur
American Wizarding World
Wizard Slang
The Wizarding World and Mental Health
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