#Potion and Parchment writing event

[icymoonlight]

My two contributions for P&P July event

[heesmiles]

HOW TO HEX A HEART k.th

೨౿ ⠀  ׅ ⠀   ̇  7.5K ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairing s𝜗𝜚 ravenclaw ! taehyun ៹ hufflepuff ! reader ᧁ; angst ˒ fantasy ˒ hogwarts au

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ angst hogwarts au grumpy x sunshine academic rivals to lovers yearning characters are aged up set in a college like hogwarts setting ft sunoo (enhypen)

in which୨୧ ㅤִ Love was sacred, love was rare, love was fleeting...but Taehyun wanted none of it. Instead searching for a fullfilling life in the pages of texts books and viles filled with potions, your cheery personality and natural smarts did little for his ego and too much damage to his high standings in all of Hogwarts academics. He must put a stop to it...if he wished to stay on top.

★ !rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . chat I'm so excited!! This is apart of a collab I'm doing with my fellow writers and friends: the nine and three quarters collab. I hope ya'll enjoy. guys I actually hate how rushed this is. I'm sorry!! i wrote it ages ago for our event and it’s been siting in the drafts for a while now, i can honestly say….its not even nearly close to my best work. i wish it was better because taehyun deserve better! i’ll be writing my coraline fic soon as a redemption arc for tae, i swear by it!

The dungeon was alive with a symphony of simmering cauldrons and chattering students, the air thick with the sharp tang of fluxweed and the earthy musk of powdered root of asphodel. Candles floated above the stone tables, flickering with a lazy indifference, casting golden halos across glass vials and worn parchment. You sat hunched over your cauldron, stirring clockwise; then counterclockwise, exactly as the textbook instructed, though you liked to think you added a little flair to your technique. Beside you, Sunoo leaned over to check your progress, his face drawn in a mix of admiration and mild panic. 

“I swear mine’s more brown than bronze,” he whispered, frowning at his own mixture. 

“It’s because you’re overthinking it again,” you giggled, nudging him gently. “You have to let the potion speak to you. Feel the ingredients. Make a little magic of your own, y’know?” He rolled his eyes but smiled, accustomed to your blend of mysticism and mischief. You were sunshine in a bottle, golden, glowing, maybe a little overwhelming on days like this, but endlessly kind, brimming with a passion for the craft that made even the most monotonous ingredients feel like keys to a hidden kingdom. You adored Potions. It was alchemy and artistry, mystery and discipline, all bubbling into something beautiful. 

“Alright, ingredients table, now!” barked Professor Oakenhart from the front of the class, his robes flaring dramatically as he paced. “Step carefully. If you spill the unicorn hair again, Nott, I will make you polish the cauldrons with your tears.” You perked up immediately, hand shooting into the air before anyone else could even blink. “I’ll go!” you chimed, hopping up from your stool and bouncing toward the table with a spring in your step.

But in your unbridled enthusiasm, you didn’t see him. Kang Taehyun. Towering. Silent. Cold as the dungeons themselves and twice as sharp. He was the kind of student who didn’t just read the textbook — he memorized the footnotes, corrected the professor’s misquotes, and brewed potions with the precision of a seasoned apothecary. And he hated you. Not in the way someone hates a rainstorm or a bad meal; no, he hated you with purpose. Your effortless charm, your laughter echoing across the corridors, the way professors smiled just a little too brightly when you answered questions correctly. Worst of all, you matched him. In test scores, potion grades, practicals. You were sunshine to his storm cloud. And it infuriated him. 

So when you turned and smacked straight into his chest, your half-filled vial of brewed Knotgrass solution flying from your hand and splattering all across the front of his pristine uniform, it was more than an accident. It was an act of war. “Oh—oh my god—I didn’t see you—! I’m so sorry!” you gasped, hands fluttering uselessly in the air, unsure whether to mop it up or vanish into the floor. “It was an accident, really, I didn’t—” 

“Obviously it was an accident,” Taehyun cut in, voice cold and clipped, The potion dripped from his vest in sluggish streaks, soaking into the ravenclaw blue. “Next time, try looking where you're going instead of skipping around like some deranged fairy” You blinked, momentarily stunned by the venom in his tone.

“I—” But he was already striding off toward Professor Oakenhart, presumably to report the offense and extract his revenge in the form of docked house points or an extra essay. The silence he left in his wake felt oddly loud, like someone had extinguished the warmth in the room. You returned to your seat with what you hoped was dignity, though your cheeks burned and your heart thudded a little too loudly in your chest. Sunoo was watching you, eyes wide.

“That was brutal,” he whispered. “Are you alright?” You forced a bright smile, even though the potion fumes still clung to your nose and your pride felt a bit bruised. “Just peachy!” you chirped, plopping back onto your stool and picking up your ladle. “Besides, a little Knotgrass never hurt anyone. Except maybe his ego.”

Sunoo snorted into his sleeve. Somewhere behind you, you swore you could feel Taehyun’s glare like a knife to your spine. 

Professor Oakenhart clapped his hands for silence, the crystalline ting-ting-ting of his silver rings against his wand echoing through the vaulted stone. Bubbling cauldrons fell obediently to a hush, the once-lively chatter collapsing into a hush so complete you could hear the delicate pop of fluxweed bladders bursting in the brew. Oakenhart let the hush linger, he enjoyed suspense the way a sphinx savors riddles; before letting his voice pour down like cold mountain water. 

“Next year’s class prefect,” he announced, letting the words hang, “will be chosen in three weeks’ time. The badge will go”, his dark eyes skimmed the room, “to the student who best embodies the virtues that keep this ancient castle alive: scholarly excellence, unwavering helpfulness, and the kind of leadership that does not require howling at those beneath you.” His gaze flicked, ever so briefly, toward the Ravenclaw benches, then to you in your Hufflepuff yellow, where you sat up straighter on reflex. A hush of anticipation prickled through the air, sparking like powdered moonstone hitting hot embers. 

It took no more than a heartbeat for both your hands and Taehyun’s to shoot skyward, mirror images of ambition in two very different skins. Your arm rose with sunshine optimism, sleeve fluttering like a pennant above a castle tower; Taehyun’s lifted with predatory precision, elbow locked, fingers slicing the air as if claiming rightful territory. Two comets on intersecting orbits. “Questions?” Oakenhart invited, his thin smile hinting that questions were only respectable if they tasted of genuine curiosity and not vanity.

Taehyun noticed you first, noticed the way your fingertips wiggled for attention as though determined to catch falling starlight, and a quiet scuff of disapproval hissed past his teeth. “Little miss perfect,” he muttered under his breath, the phrase delivered like a curse brewed from nettle and spite. But the professor’s nod landed on you, not him. You stood, straightening your robes with a soft brush of palms, and the dungeon’s torchlight caught the hopeful glimmer in your eyes. “Professor,” you began, voice warm as summer rain, “will academic collaboration — tutoring students outside one’s own house, for example; count toward the leadership criterion, or is it measured strictly by individual achievement?” The question sailed across the room, thoughtful and earnest, carrying the faint scent of cinnamon from the potion still clinging to your cuffs. 

Taehyun’s scoff was immediate, a low, velvety sound of contempt. “It’s hardly rocket science,” he drawled, loud enough for the nearest cauldrons to tremble. “Prefects inspire excellence, they don’t spoon-feed it. Obviously individual performance weighs heaviest.” His sarcasm slithered through the air like a smoky serpent, confident that everyone would see the answer as plain as daylight. 

Instead of bristling, you turned to him with the brightness of a heliotrope bending toward dawn. You dipped your head, just a fraction and let a beatific smile unfurl, soft and sincere. “Thank you, Taehyun,” you replied, voice edged with honeyed cordiality. “But I find that shining your light helps others see where they’re going, and what’s leadership if not lighting the path?” Your gentle retort glimmered with the audacity of grace, and the dungeon seemed to flicker brighter for a heartbeat. The sight of your tilted head and unconquerable optimism struck Taehyun like a spell gone awry. A low, involuntary snarl rasped from his throat, a feral sound quickly smothered behind a pursed line of lips, but not before you caught it, not before half the class saw the flash of winter in his eyes. The tension between you twanged like a harp string wound too tight: one pluck away from music, one tug away from breaking.  

Professor Oakenhart cleared his throat, once, sharply, expelling the storm before it could fully gather. “An astute question, Miss, Yes, mentorship and cross-house assistance will be tallied.” He inclined his head toward you with a hint of approval, then pivoted to Taehyun. “Mr. Kang, if you have a different inquiry, do raise your hand properly rather than providing commentary mid-air.” A ripple of muted laughter swept the benches, but your gaze held steady on Taehyun’s. Where his irises turned to flint, yours softened to amber, and in that quiet, smoldering stalemate something unspoken sparked, an ember that might turn to wildfire or to warmth, given time and care. For now, though, it merely glowed, pulsing in the shadowed dungeon like a promise you both refused to name. 

Sunoo nudged your elbow the moment you sat, wide-eyed and whispering, “I think you just poked a Hungarian Horntail.” You responded with an easy grin, quill poised to continue your notes. “Better a Horntail awake,” you murmured, “than a dragon who never learns how bright fire can be.” Across the aisle, Taehyun pressed a palm flat to the cool desk, steadying himself against the tremor of unfamiliar emotion. His quill scratched furious strokes into his parchment; ink as dark as midnight vows, but beneath that practiced scowl, a new question brewed in secret: How does one extinguish sunshine…without first stepping into its light? 

After the classroom became a quiet hush, everyone working silently alongside their partners, Professor Oakenheart instructs Taehyun and yourself to rise and follow him to his desk. “You will both report to the potion storeroom tonight. Seven o’clock. No excuses. And no magic.” He says with a sigh. “I cannot have students arguing in class, it’s unsavory.” 

“Yes, Mr. Oakenheart.” You say with the downward tilt of your head. Taehyun didn’t say a word. His robes still glistened from your accidental splash, the potion drying in uneven patches across his sleeve. He glanced at you once, briefly, with all the warmth of a midwinter frost, then turned away. 

You walk back to your seat next to Sunoo solemnly, sitting down next to him silently. Sunoo whispered, “You’re cursed,” under his breath as you sat back down. You grinned and whispered back, “Just peachy.” 

–

Seven o’clock arrived like a tolling bell, and the potion storeroom, usually locked, usually silent, opened with a low groan as Professor Oakenhart wordlessly ushered you both inside. The room was narrow and cluttered, lit by a handful of enchanted lanterns that hovered in lazy loops, casting golden light onto rows of old wooden shelves. Vials of powdered roots and dried wings lined the walls, their labels yellowed and curling at the edges. The air was rich with the scent of earth and time; rosehips, wolfsbane, peppermint, and mildew. “You’ll sort and organize all of this,” the professor said, gesturing to a chaotic pile of unbottled ingredients and stained glassware stacked across the center table. “Without the use of wands. You leave when it’s done.” 

Then he left, the heavy door clicking shut behind him with an ominous finality. You turned to Taehyun with a sheepish smile. “Well… could be worse.”

Taehyun didn’t even glance at you. “Could be over faster if you stopped talking.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, grabbing a jar of shriveled billywig stingers. “You act like I spilled that potion on purpose.”

“You didn’t not spill it,” he muttered, picking through a box of dried dittany leaves with the care of a jeweler inspecting glass. “You’re always fluttering around like a butterfly with no sense of direction. No wonder you can’t stay upright.” You rolled your eyes and tossed your hair back defiantly. “You’re so dramatic. One splash of Dreamless Sleep on your sleeve and you act like I’ve ruined your career.”

“That potion was for me, actually,” he snapped. “A concentration tonic. For my study schedule. Unlike you, I don’t need to flirt my way through classes.” The words hit like a slap; sharp, misplaced, and far too personal. 

You blinked. “I wasn’t flirting, Taehyun.” He didn’t reply. Just turned, his fingers tight around the neck of a decanter filled with bluebell essence. The silence stretched long and brittle. You turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on alphabetizing vials instead of the heat rising to your cheeks. You hated that he could twist your sunshine into something shallow. You hated that it hurt a little, even if you knew better. It was when you were climbing a rickety step stool to reach a jar of flobberworm mucus that it happened, your foot caught on a crooked rung, and the world tilted sharply. You yelped, arms flailing for balance, but gravity was faster. 

And Taehyun; curse him, was there. He caught you by the waist in a startled breath, your chest nearly colliding with his, both of you frozen in a strange, suspended heartbeat. For one unbearable second, the air was different. He smelled like cloves and parchment and the faint memory of apples. His hands were warm through the fabric of your robes. Your face was tilted up to his, and his jaw tightened like he was holding back a thought that tasted too much like truth. Then he let go. 

You stumbled back with a startled gasp, catching yourself against a shelf just in time to stop an entire row of beetle eyes from toppling to the floor. “You—!” you started.

“I’m not your babysitter,” he snapped, brushing his hands down his robes like your presence had scorched him. “You’re so dramatic,” you said again, this time with venom. “One second you’re catching me, the next you act like I’ve hexed you.”

“And you’re unbearable,” he bit out, his voice low and dangerous. “Always smiling, always talking, always pretending the world is sugar and stars. It’s exhausting.” You stared at him, chest heaving, the light from the lanterns catching the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the irritated furrow in his brow. But underneath all that anger; buried like a secret, was something else.

You exhaled slowly. “Maybe it’s not pretend.” Taehyun said nothing. Just turned back to his work, jaw clenched, knuckles white where they gripped a jar of valerian root. 

You returned to the pile of unsorted ingredients with a huff, brushing the dust from your skirt and refusing to meet his eyes. The silence between you wasn’t peaceful, it was brittle, strained, the kind of silence that creaked like a staircase in an old manor, aching to be broken. Taehyun was the one who cracked first. “Maybe if you focused half as much on your work as you do on being liked, you wouldn’t be in detention.”

You turned sharply, a vial of crushed lovage seeds in one hand. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I did. I’m just stunned you think being liked is a flaw.”

He scoffed, not looking up from the set of empty phials he was aligning by size. “Popularity isn’t the same as talent.”

“And coldness isn’t the same as intelligence,” you snapped. “Just because you glare through every lecture doesn’t make you smarter than everyone else.” He finally turned to face you, eyes flashing like lightning behind stormcloud lashes. “I’m not cold. I’m focused. There’s a difference.”

You stepped closer, your arms crossed now, potion dust glittering faintly on your sleeves like constellation flecks. “You’re so scared someone else might outshine you that you treat everyone like competition.” 

“No one has outshined me,” he replied, voice like steel. “Until you.” 

The silence that followed was a strange one. Thicker. Quieter. Like the world had taken a step back to let those words hang between you — taunting, trembling, true. You blinked. “What?”

He looked away too fast. “Forget it.”

“No, you said—” You took a step closer, your heart thudding, not from the argument, but from the accidental confession strung beneath it. “You said until me. You think I’ve outshined you?” 

“I think you’re exhausting,” he muttered, back to organizing now with unnecessary force, placing bottles like they’d offended him personally. “You breeze through everything like it’s easy. People like you. Professors praise you. And somehow, despite all your little smiles and your sunshine-and-daisies attitude, you’re still top of the class.” You stared at him, stunned. “You think I haven’t worked for this?”

“I think you’ve never needed to work as hard,” he hissed, not cruel but bitter, like it was a wound he’d carried for too long. “You show up and everyone adores you. I have to fight for everything.”

Your voice softened. “That’s not my fault, Taehyun.” He paused, a jar of dried mint frozen in his hand.

“No,” he said, after a breath. “It’s not. But it still feels like I’m running a race you get to skip the hurdles for.” You didn’t know what to say to that. The space between you wasn’t so wide now. Just one potion-stained table and a pile of unsaid things.

“I don’t try to make you feel that way,” you said, quieter now. “I just… I like being here. I like learning. I like this world. It’s not about beating you.” Taehyun exhaled, slowly. “It’s always been about beating me.” You looked at him then; really looked. The precision of his posture. The tension in his shoulders. The fury not just with you, but with himself. With his need to win. And buried beneath that, the fear of what it might mean to lose to someone like you.

“Maybe,” you said gently, “it doesn’t have to be a race.” He looked up, and for the first time, he didn’t seem angry. Just tired. And quietly, painfully aware of you in a way that went far deeper than rivalry ever could. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, but his voice had lost its edge.

You tilted your head and smiled; not mockingly, but softly. “Maybe I would.” He didn’t smile back.

–

The sky was ink-blue, bruised with stars. The Astronomy Tower stood quiet, wind whispering through the slits in the stone as if the castle itself was holding its breath. The hour was late enough that most students had turned in, their dormitories dim with drowsy candlelight and dreams. But you couldn’t sleep. Something in the air tonight felt unsettled. Heavy. Like the prelude to a storm, but not one outside. 

A strange instinct tugged at you; soft and insistent. So you wandered, slippers padding across stone, drawn not by sound but by silence. You found him there. Taehyun. Perched on the low ledge of the Astronomy Tower with his knees pulled up and his arms resting on them, his robes dark against the greystone, face upturned toward a sky he didn’t seem to be seeing. There was something wrong in the stillness of him.

He was always sharp in class, always stiff with pride, always holding himself like a blade; ready to cut, ready to be cut. But here, under the stars, he looked… tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix. The kind that came from being measured too often. From being whittled down into something small and perfect and hollow. You approached gently, your footsteps careful. He didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just kept his gaze fixed forward, eyes unreadable, expression carved from stone.

But you saw the parchment clutched in one hand, wrinkled and shaking slightly in the wind. You didn’t ask what it said. You didn’t need to. The way his shoulders curled inward, the way his mouth pressed into a thin, unfeeling line; it told you enough. So you sat beside him. You didn’t speak. Didn’t press. Just opened your satchel and wordlessly held out a Chocolate Frog, your last one. You kept it for exam days and rainy Sundays, but tonight, it felt like he needed it more than you. For a second, he didn’t move. Then, without looking at you, he took it. His fingers brushed yours. Cold. Tense. But real.

You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease. You just sat beside him in silence, letting the stars be the only witnesses. Letting the wind pass between you like breath. Letting kindness be quiet and simple and soft. And when you left, he still hadn’t spoken. Still hadn’t looked at you. But the Chocolate Frog wrapper sat folded neatly on the ledge when you returned the next day.

The next morning in Potions, everything feels almost normal. Almost. You and Sunoo arrive late, breathless from a stairwell that decided halfway through to rotate in the wrong direction. Professor Oakenhart levels you both with a tired glare, but waves you in without comment. You settle into your seat and reach for your ingredients; belladonna, porcupine quills, armadillo bile, your fingers moving on instinct while your mind drifts elsewhere.

To the Astronomy Tower. To the letter he never spoke of. To the way he never thanked you. To the way you hadn’t needed him to. It happens so fast you barely register it. A soft pop. A hiss. The sharp crack of glass. And then, boom. Your cauldron erupts in a bloom of green smoke and sparks, a chemical chaos that splashes up in a hot rush of steam and acrid potion. You flinch, arms flying up to protect your face, heart hammering in your throat. But nothing touches you.

Because in the heartbeat before the blast, a shield spell snaps into place; silver and curved like a falling star, held firm by a voice you know too well. “Protego.” When the smoke clears, you’re blinking through tears, more from shock than anything and coughing through the haze. Your cauldron is scorched, bubbling like a wounded beast, and Sunoo is somewhere under the table muttering prayers. 

But all you can see is Taehyun. Standing across the aisle. His wand still raised. His hair mussed slightly from the force of the blast. His robes dusted with soot and powdered nettle. He says nothing. Just looks at you for one long, unreadable moment. Then lowers his wand, turns on his heel, and walks back to his seat like nothing happened. You stare after him, stunned. Because it wasn’t like him to help. It wasn’t like him to notice. But he had. And something in your chest warms like sunlight over frost. 

The Professor grumbles something about careless brewing, assigns a week’s worth of clean-up duties, and moves on. But you don’t care. You’re still staring at the back of Taehyun’s head, and the words you didn’t say last night echo louder now than ever: Maybe it doesn’t have to be a race.

– 

Snow had draped itself over the castle like a dream.

Hogwarts shimmered under winter’s enchantment, its towers crowned with frost, its courtyards glowing gold with fairy lights. Students bustled about in robes lined with velvet, their laughter rising with each breath like smoke into the star-splattered sky. Tonight wasn’t the Yule Ball, not exactly, it was something smaller, softer. A midwinter celebration organized by the Prefects and Professors: music in the Great Hall, warm drinks passed from student to student, and the magic of December clinging to every flickering candle. You arrived with Sunoo, cheeks flushed, hair kissed with snow. Laughter danced on your lips before you even crossed the threshold, Sunoo telling a joke that made your sides ache, your friends gathering around like stars drawn to your gravity. You were radiant in your winter robes, something golden in your grin. You loved nights like this. Nights full of warmth and wonder. Nights where the world felt like it belonged to you.

He was already there. Taehyun stood on the far edge of the room, near the refreshment table but untouched by it. Alone. Always alone. His Ravenclaw blue scarf hung loose around his neck, frost still clinging to the hems of his sleeves, and his expression unreadable, carved from cool stone.You didn’t notice him at first. Not really. Not until someone asked you to dance.

It was a boy from Gryffindor, tall, smiling, a little shy. He offered you his hand and you, ever the sun, said yes without hesitation. Your friends cheered. Sunoo nudged you playfully. And soon, the two of you were spinning between floating candles, the music lifting your steps, your laughter like honey and light. Taehyun noticed. He noticed the way your head tipped back when you laughed. The way your hands fit so easily into someone else’s. The way you looked, joyful, unguarded, lovely, and not at all like the girl who once gave him her last Chocolate Frog in silence.

He didn’t stay. He turned before he could think better of it, his footsteps soundless on the marble. The corridor outside the Great Hall was quiet, save for the distant hum of music and the soft hush of falling snow through an open window. He didn’t know why he left. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t have the words for it. He just knew he hated watching someone else hold your smile. So he left. And you followed. 

You found him near the foot of the grand staircase, his back to you, the golden candlelight brushing against his shoulders, setting soft fire to the edges of his silhouette. “Taehyun.”

He didn’t turn. You stepped closer. “You left early.” 

“I wasn’t enjoying myself.”

“Why not?”

A beat. Then: “You looked like you were.”

There was something sharp in the way he said it. Something jealous. Something that trembled beneath the surface, unwilling to admit what it truly was. You folded your arms. “So you were watching me.” He turned to you then, slowly. His expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes were thunderclouds.

“You always want people to look at you,” he said, low and quiet. “So don’t act surprised when they do.”

Your breath caught, more from the venom than the words themselves. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you always have to be seen, don’t you? Always the center of the room. Always dancing, laughing, shining — like you need everyone’s attention to survive.” You flinched. But you stood your ground. “And you push everyone away because you’re afraid they’ll see something you’re hiding.”

“Better than parading around like you have nothing to hide.”

“At least I’m not cruel about it.” You quip back, hurt. 

“Oh?” he snapped. “You think I’m cruel because I don’t fawn over your every word? Because I don’t melt under your smiles like everyone else does?”

“No,” you said, stepping closer now, your voice trembling not with fear but with fury. “I think you’re cruel because you can’t stand that someone else might be your equal.” His jaw clenched.

“And because you’re angry,” you whispered, “that I make you feel something you can’t control.” Silence. Thick, aching silence. 

“You’re insufferable,” he breathed.

“And you’re impossible.”

“I hate the way you laugh.”

“I hate the way you lie.” A pause. A breath.

“I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you.” Your breath catches in your throat. Your mouth suddenly like cotton. 

Then, like a flicker of a flame Taehyun was kissing you. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire meeting fire, snow melting on burning skin. His mouth met yours with all the tension of months pressed into a single, trembling heartbeat. He kissed you like he was trying to erase every insult, every rivalry, every bitter word. You kissed him like you’d been waiting for him to stop running. When you pulled apart, breathless, your hands still clutched his robes. He stared at you, stunned. Like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like he wanted to do it again.

You smirked, the corner of your mouth curling just so. “Still hate me?”

His lips twitched. “More than ever.” But his voice was hoarse. And his fingers didn’t let go.

Morning broke cold and silver, the kind of pale light that softened the snow but sharpened the air. In the Great Hall, everything looked the same. Students chattered over toast and pumpkin juice, scarves half-tangled around their necks, steam curling from mugs like the remnants of dreams. The enchanted ceiling swirled with drifting snowflakes and a pale winter sky. But something was off-kilter in the space around you. Something missing You scanned the tables without thinking, eyes flickering past familiar faces. Sunoo noticed, you could feel his gaze as you forced a too-bright smile, buttered your toast with robotic precision.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, voice soft, careful.

You shrugged, looking down at your plate. “Nothing.” But your hands trembled. And Taehyun wasn’t at his usual place near the end of the Ravenclaw table. Not that you were watching. Not that you were waiting. But still. You saw him again outside the library, later that morning. His robes were immaculate as always, scarf draped neatly over one shoulder, a book in his hand he wasn’t reading. You approached him cautiously, your heart fluttering like a sparrow trapped in your ribs. 

“Taehyun,” you said, gently, like the name itself might break if you spoke it too loud. His eyes flicked up. Cold. Unbothered. Your smile faltered. 

“Can we talk?” you asked, hands twisting in the hem of your sweater.

“No.” Just like that. Clipped. Sharp.

You blinked. “What?” 

“I said no.” Something inside you shrank, just a little. “Taehyun… what happened last night—”

“Was a mistake.” The words hit like a slap. You felt the breath leave your lungs, staggered by the sudden, cruel distance of him. “You kissed me,” you said, voice small, cracking. “You said—” 

“I got caught up in the moment.” His tone was flat, practiced. Like he’d already rehearsed these lines. Like he’d spent the whole night scrubbing every softness out of himself. “It didn’t mean anything.” The world tilted. Your lips parted, your voice caught in your throat. You could feel the sting building in your chest, behind your eyes. He didn’t look at you, wouldn’t. His gaze stayed fixed on the spines of books he wasn’t reading, as if pretending you weren’t there would erase what happened.

“I thought you—” You bit your lip, hard. Swallowed. “I thought you cared.”

“I don’t.” It was brutal, how easy he made it sound. And that was what broke you.

You turned before he could see the tears spill, before your voice could crumble entirely. You ran, not caring who saw, not caring where you were going, just needing to escape the weight of that hallway, of his voice still echoing inside you like the last note of a song gone wrong. Snow flurried around you as you burst outside, not feeling the cold through the heat in your cheeks. The castle loomed behind you, windows glowing warm with light you couldn’t bear to be near.

You collapsed beneath the shadow of a tree near the lake, the frost crunching beneath your knees, and let yourself cry. Quietly, messily. Like the sky had fallen only for you. You hated how much you’d hoped. Hated that one kiss had unraveled you. Hated that even now, even with his cruelty still ringing in your ears… You still wanted to believe he didn’t mean it.

The next morning came like a betrayal. Sunlight poured through the dormitory windows, golden and gentle, but it felt wrong against your skin. The castle still breathed with its usual rhythm, owls cooing in the distance, portraits murmuring, fireplaces crackling softly, but none of it reached you. It was as though something inside you had gone still. Quiet in a way that even your cheer couldn’t touch. You sat beside Sunoo in the Great Hall, picking at your breakfast with no real interest. Your usual glow was gone, dulled into something shadowed and quiet.

Sunoo nudged you gently with his shoulder. “You didn’t say much last night.” You didn’t meet his eyes. “There wasn’t much to say.”

He watched you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “This is about Taehyun, isn’t it?” Your fingers curled tighter around your spoon.

“We kissed, ” you whispered, barely audible. “And then he said it was a mistake.”

Sunoo’s brows lifted, and then quickly drew together in concern. “What?” 

“I thought it meant something,” you said, voice cracking. “But he shut me out. Said it didn’t mean anything. Like I was just… a moment to him. A mistake to be scrubbed out.”

Sunoo’s expression darkened. “What a bloody idiot.” You gave a weak laugh, one that didn’t reach your eyes. He reached across the table and covered your hand with his. “Look, I know you like to see the good in everyone, even in jerks who don’t deserve it, but maybe it’s time you started putting that heart of yours somewhere safer. Someone who’ll actually protect it.”

You nodded, lips pressed tight. “You’re right.” But the ache didn’t lift. Later that day, you filed into Potions class with the rest of the students, your bag slung over one shoulder. The scent of crushed herbs and simmering roots clung thick to the dungeon air. You walked with your head high, shoulders back, smile forced into place like armor. He was already seated when you walked in. Taehyun.

Sitting at his usual spot near the front, posture rigid, jaw tight. His fingers tapped soundlessly against his textbook. He didn’t look up when you entered. Didn’t so much as flinch. But you felt the chill in the room anyway, the weight of all that was unspoken crackling between you like a live wire. Still, you were you. Still sunshine, even with cracks in your light. You walked over, careful steps echoing softly, and perched on the edge of the desk beside his. “Hi, Taehyun,” you said, your voice light, as if your heart wasn’t twisting. “I was wondering if you finished the reading for today. The part about powdered asphodel, wasn’t that fascinating? I thought—”

“Can you just shut up for once?” His voice cut through the room like a blade. The entire class went still. You froze. “I’m trying to concentrate,” he said, still not looking at you. “And I don’t need your insipid, cheery commentary. Merlin knows it’s exhausting enough seeing you parade around like everyone’s personal ray of sunshine.” 

A few people snorted with laughter. Someone whispered behind their hand. You felt every eye in the room swing toward you, your face, your smile, your frozen stance. And Taehyun finally looked up, and his expression was cold, clipped, composed. But your world cracked. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. You looked around, saw the amusement on their faces, the mockery, the disbelief that anyone as soft as you could’ve tried to reach someone as sharp-edged as him. And then your gaze landed back on Taehyun.

“All I’ve done,” you said, voice trembling, “is try to be nice to you. To care for you. Even when you were cruel. Even when you didn’t deserve it.” He said nothing. Your voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’m done.”

You didn’t wait for his reaction. Didn’t want to see if there was even a flicker of regret in those storm-grey eyes. You turned on your heel, your shoes tapping hard against the stone, and fled the classroom. Again. But this time… you didn’t cry. This time, your chest burned with something else. This time, you were done being soft for someone who only knew how to bruise.

Taehyun sat frozen in the aftermath. The laughter had faded. The stares had drifted away. But the silence that followed your exit rang louder than anything else in the room. He stared at the empty space where you’d stood, chest hollow and knotted, something sour rising in his throat. The words he’d thrown at you echoed back in his ears; sharp, venom-laced things forged in fear, insecurity, and pride. And regret, thick and immediate, curled in his gut like poison. “Taehyun?” the professor called. But he didn’t answer. He stood up abruptly, chair scraping back, and bolted.

His shoes struck stone as he ran through the corridor, breath tight, wand forgotten. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to find you. That he had to. His heart beat painfully against his ribs. The hallways blurred past him, students turned their heads as he passed, but he didn’t stop. He found you in the greenhouses, your favorite place, tucked behind the castle where the air smelled of earth and mint, where your emotions could breathe. You stood alone beneath the arching glass dome, surrounded by sleeping winter blooms. The late afternoon light spilled through the frosted windows in ribbons of gold. You had your arms crossed, head bowed, lips pressed tightly together. When you heard the door open, you stiffened.

“What do you want?” you said, voice hoarse, but strong.

Taehyun’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry.”

You laughed, bitter and soft. “You’re always sorry.”

“I know.” He took a step closer. “I know I keep ruining things. I know I keep hurting you. But I don’t—” His voice broke. “I don’t mean to.”

“Then why do you?” you snapped, eyes glassy, anger trembling under your skin. “Why do you keep pushing me away? Every time I try to be kind, every time I try to care about you — you throw it back in my face.” Taehyun looked down at his hands, curling them into fists. “Because you make it hard to pretend I don’t feel anything.” You stared at him. 

He looked up, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were wide, vulnerable, raw. “You’re always happy. You shine so damn much it hurts. And I... I’ve spent my whole life trying to be perfect, trying to be what everyone expects. And then you walk in, and you’re better than me, and kinder, and I didn’t know what to do with that. So I lashed out. Because it was easier than admitting I—” He swallowed. “I like you.” Silence bloomed between you. Quiet. Fragile.

“You’re such a bloody idiot,” you muttered.

Taehyun blinked, startled. “What?” And then you stepped forward. Fast. Sure. Your hands came up to grab the collar of his robes, tugging him down before he could react. Your mouth crashed into his with a force that knocked the air out of both of you. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was furious, raw, earned. Taehyun made a soft, strangled noise in the back of his throat, his hands fluttering for a moment before settling; one on your waist, the other braced against the table behind you. But you didn’t wait for him. You deepened the kiss, teeth and warmth and heat and something frantic behind it all. You poured your anger and your longing into him, tasting the apology on his tongue, daring him to mean it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your eyes burned into his. “I’ve liked you for ages, you emotionally constipated genius,” you whispered, chest heaving. “But I’m not going to keep running after you if you’re going to keep running from yourself.” His mouth parted. He didn’t speak. He only nodded, once, reverent. 

“I won’t break for you again, Taehyun,” you said, softer now. “So if you’re going to kiss me back next time… mean it.”

“I will,” he breathed, eyes wide, lips swollen, still stunned by the hurricane of you. “I swear.” And this time, when you kissed him again, it was slower. Sweeter. The first page of a new chapter written in ink instead of fire. And for once, he let himself feel it.

–

The announcement came quietly, a simple flick of parchment and a name spoken with no ceremony. At breakfast, the Great Hall was humming; spoons clinking against porridge bowls, owls flapping in with the morning post, low chatter weaving between house tables like mist. Professor McGonagall stood at the podium, spectacles glinting as she unrolled the scroll of student appointments. Her voice carried with its usual sharpness, precise and unyielding. “The Prefect position for next term,” she said, “has been awarded to Miss Eliza Rowe of Gryffindor.” 

A polite smattering of applause followed. Nothing loud, nothing triumphant, just the rustle of hands clapping out of obligation more than celebration. Eliza, three seats down from the golden trio’s old haunt, blinked, then straightened her back and nodded once, the picture of composed satisfaction. She’d dotted her i’s with logic, crossed her t’s with ruthlessness, built her empire from timetables and perfectly executed essays. And she deserved it. You blinked, mid-sip of pumpkin juice. Across the table, Taehyun paused, one hand wrapped around a buttered scone. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. And then, like a shared secret, you both burst into soft, startled laughter.

No bitterness curled on your tongues. No resentment twisted in your chests. There was no sting to the loss, only the warm realization that you hadn’t even noticed the stakes anymore. Taehyun leaned forward, elbows brushing the edge of his plate, eyes gleaming in the slanted morning light. “You know, I think this might be the first time I’ve lost anything and not wanted to hex someone about it.” You smirked. “Wow. Character development.” 

He grinned, actually grinned, the corners of his mouth curling like sunlight creeping through storm clouds. “Don’t push it.” You looked down at your plate, then back up at him. “I mean, we both lost, technically. And yet…”

“And yet,” he echoed, voice low and warm, gaze lingering. His fingers brushed yours under the table, just a whisper of contact, but it said everything. You glanced around at the bustle of the Hall. No one was paying attention to you anymore. The spotlight had shifted elsewhere. You and Taehyun were no longer the top contenders, the academic titans vying for dominance. And you didn’t care.

The rivalry had sharpened you both, carved out the edges where you met, but now, here, in this quiet moment between spoonfuls of marmalade and melted butter, it felt like something new was blooming. Not softer, exactly. But truer. Less about pride. More about presence. “I think,” you said slowly, “I’d rather have this.”

He tilted his head. “This?”

You shrugged, fighting a smile. “Us. Whatever we are now.” For a moment, Taehyun didn’t answer. Just looked at you, like you were the only person in the castle worth watching. Like maybe, in some unspoken way, he’d already chosen this over everything else. Then he said, “Me too.”

Epilogue 

The letter arrives on a Tuesday. It isn’t sent with an owl, or folded with formal corners. It’s slipped into your Potions textbook, tucked between a page on amortentia and the properties of powdered moonstone. You find it when your fingers brush against the soft, familiar parchment, sealed with nothing more than a pressed flower. A heliotrope. His favorite. And yours. Your name is scrawled across the front in his ever-meticulous handwriting, slanted and confident and just a touch dramatic. But inside; it’s him, wholly and undeniably.

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower. Tonight. Midnight. Don’t bring Sunoo, or I swear. 

Stop asking questions you already know the answer to, Little Miss Perfect. It makes me want to kiss you. Which is inconvenient. Because I hate you.

—T.K.

You laugh, soft, delighted, head shaking in disbelief. The paper crinkles in your hand as your fingers clutch it tighter, your stomach blooming with something golden and giddy. You press the letter against your lips, a half-suppressed giggle escaping. He still says he hates you. You roll your eyes, slip the letter into your sleeve, and go anyway.

The Astronomy Tower is quiet when you arrive, the air tinged with cold and the faint, fragrant echo of spring pushing through winter’s shadow. Snow clings in delicate lace to the ramparts, the sky a deep indigo velvet scattered with stars. Hogwarts sleeps below, its windows glowing faintly, warm and distant. You find him leaning against the parapet, robes fluttering slightly in the breeze, curls tousled and dark against the moonlight. He doesn’t turn as you approach, but you know he hears you. He always does. “You’re late,” Taehyun murmurs, without looking.

“You’re impossible,” you reply, stepping beside him, shoulder brushing his.

He finally glances at you. “And yet, here you are.”

You smile. It’s soft, easy. “What’s the occasion?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks up, at the moon, at the stars, at anything but you. When he finally speaks, it’s quieter. “I used to come here to get away from people. To think. Sometimes just to breathe.” You say nothing. You let him unravel in his own time.

He exhales, long and slow. “Now all I think about is how badly I want you here. All the time. Even when you’re babbling. Even when you’re winning at things I swore I needed to beat you at.” You glance at him, heart beating like a drum beneath your ribs. He turns to face you fully now, the night making a poem of his profile, sharp lines, soft edges, eyes full of unspoken things.

“You ruined my solitude,” he whispers. 

You tilt your head, teasing. “You’re welcome.” 

His lips twitch. “I should hate you for it.”

“And yet?”

“And yet,” he says, stepping closer, “you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be wrong with.” You reach for him first this time, fingers brushing his, pulling him into your gravity. He meets you halfway. The kiss is quiet. Slow. Like a confession. Like a wish. Above, the stars burn steady. Below, the castle dreams. And somewhere between the heavens and the earth, a boy who built walls and a girl who tore them down find something far sweeter than victory. Not perfection. But something better. Home

(♬) - @beomiracles @biteyoubiteme @hyukascampfire @dawngyu @izzyy-stuff @1-800-jewon @xylatox

[cowboylikemac]

LOVE NOTES | J.P

“ love’s a game, wanna play? ”

james potter x reader

including : fluff

word count : 1k+

Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts had always been an over-the-top affair. Professor Flitwick charmed pink and red paper hearts to float lazily through the corridors, Madam Pince enforced an even stricter no public displays of affection in the library rule (which never stopped couples from sneaking into the Restricted Section), and Peeves delighted in dropping flower petals—or sometimes actual ink—onto unsuspecting students’ heads.

It was ridiculous. Excessive. Completely overdone.

And yet, it had never mattered much to you—until now.

Because for the first time in your life, you had a secret admirer.

The first note had appeared in your Potions textbook, folded so neatly it was clear whoever had left it had taken great care. The parchment was slightly crinkled, as if it had been held too tightly before finally being placed inside.

“A smile like yours could rival the sun—lucky for us, you don’t burn as bright, or I’d be blinded every time you walked by.”

At first, you assumed it was some sort of prank. Maybe Sirius Black was up to his usual nonsense, or perhaps some lovesick Hufflepuff had gotten the courage to anonymously express their feelings. Either way, you dismissed it as a fluke.

Until the second note arrived.

This one was slipped into your robe pocket between Transfiguration and Charms, folded once with the same careful handwriting:

“If kindness had a sound, I think it would be your laugh.”

The third note came the following morning, waiting for you at breakfast beside your goblet of pumpkin juice:

“I swear the library is quieter when you aren’t there. Even the books miss you.”

By the fourth note, which had been tucked into your favorite quill case, you were officially flustered.

Who in Merlin’s name was doing this?

Who was noticing these small things about you?

And, more importantly… why did it make your heart pound so much?

The answer, of course, came in the form of one James Potter—who, much to your amusement, was not handling the situation well.

“What do you mean someone is leaving you notes?” James demanded, sitting across from you in the Gryffindor common room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His hazel eyes, usually filled with mischief, were narrowed in something suspiciously close to jealousy.

You raised an eyebrow, casually twirling the most recent note between your fingers. “I mean exactly that, James. Someone’s been leaving me love notes.”

James’s scowl deepened. “But who?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. “If I knew that, they wouldn’t be a secret admirer, would they?”

Sirius, who had been lounging beside James, smirked in amusement, clearly enjoying his best mate’s unraveling. “Merlin, Prongs, you sound jealous.”

James scoffed, waving a hand in frustration. “I’m not jealous—I’m concerned, love.” He gestured wildly. “What if it’s some creep? Some bloke with terrible intentions?”

You shot him a look. “James. Someone who writes poetry about my laugh doesn’t exactly scream dangerous.”

James ran a hand through his messy hair, looking properly exasperated. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting all these notes from some anonymous git who can’t even sign his name.”

Sirius snorted. “Big words coming from the bloke who’s been carrying his love letter around for two weeks without delivering it.”

James immediately stiffened.

You blinked.

“What?” you asked slowly, turning to James.

James spluttered, his face immediately turning scarlet. “I—I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Sirius threw his head back, absolutely delighted at the turn of events. “Oh, come off it, Prongs! You’re the worst secret admirer in history.”

You stared at James, your heart hammering in your chest. “Wait.” You sat up straighter, gripping the note between your fingers. “You wrote these?”

James didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let out a quiet groan, dropping his head into his hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was muffled. “Maybe?”

Sirius was howling with laughter now. “Oh, this is bloody fantastic! You’ve been ‘jealous’ of yourself this whole time!”

James groaned again, refusing to lift his head. “I hate everything.”

You, meanwhile, were trying very hard not to laugh.

“James,” you said, reaching out to gently pry his hands away from his face. He peeked up at you through his fingers, looking so embarrassed that it was almost endearing.

You squeezed his hand. “You’re an idiot.”

James exhaled sharply, finally meeting your gaze. “I know.”

“But,” you continued, a small smile tugging at your lips, “you’re a very sweet idiot.”

James perked up ever so slightly. “Sweet enough for a Valentine’s date, pretty girl?”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. Maybe.”

James straightened. “Maybe?”

You grinned, enjoying the way his face lit up. “I might be more convinced if you write me one more love note.”

James groaned dramatically, though there was no hiding the dopey, lovesick smile spreading across his face.

And when Valentine’s Day finally arrived, a final note appeared on your bedside table, written on slightly crumpled parchment in familiar, loopy handwriting:

“I may have been late to the game, but if you’ll let me, I’d love to be the only one writing you love notes from now on.”

And something told you that he would be.

happy valentines day from yours truly, mac <3

masterlist!

tags: @lydiascabinsix @lydiasfalling @laufeysvalentine

[whizzing-fizzbee]

XOXO, Anonymous

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Rating: Explicit/MDNI (smut, profanity); all characters are 18+ Words: 6,323 Tags: friends to lovers, Valentine's Day, love letters, misunderstandings, mutual pining, angst, fluff, Seb is extra stupid in this one

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has been hopelessly in love with Annalisa Lark since the day they met during fifth year. So when he discovers a love letter to Ominis seemingly sent from her, he begins a downward spiral. Once the truth comes out, he'll realize actions sometimes speak louder than words.

Notes: This one's split into two parts in case you want to skip the smut. Part I is angst and fluff. Part II is smut. All characters are 18-year-old seventh years. MC in this one is a Ravenclaw named Annalisa Lark.

Read on AO3 or both parts below the cut.

Part I

Sebastian Sallow trudged into his dormitory, exhausted after a particularly grueling quidditch practice. The room was empty, presumably because all his roommates were already elbow-deep in their dinners. 

Sebastian would have gone straight to the Great Hall to join them, but he’d been neglecting a Potions essay that was due in the morning. He just needed to grab a book and he’d head to the library for a few hours of writing.

Except Sebastian’s Potions book was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath as he realized he’d left it in the locker room. With no desire to make the trek all the way back to the quidditch pitch, Sebastian decided he’d merely borrow Ominis’ book. Surely Ominis had completed the essay ages ago.

The book sat on the desk next to Ominis’ bed, resting on its back atop a neat stack of parchment. Sebastian picked it up and moved to gather some parchment and quills of his own when a folded sheet slipped from the book’s pages. It fluttered to the floor and landed face-up, open, as if its contents were meant to be seen.

Typically, Sebastian wouldn’t dare read his friend’s mail. He would never willingly violate Ominis’ trust, not after it had taken him two years to regain it after the events of fifth year. But a few choice words scrawled on the parchment caught Sebastian’s eye as he bent down to retrieve it. He paused, his hand hovering above the letter until he finally gathered the nerve to pick it up and read it.

His tired pout morphed into a full-fledged frown.

Dearest Ominis,

Your last letter made me smile. You have such a way with words that I always find myself re-reading your letters over and over again. I hope they never stop, even if we can one day be together.

Speaking of, have you given any further thought to discussing our potential relationship with Sebastian? I know you’re worried it could sever your friendship, but please don’t. He cares about both of us far too much, and I truly believe he merely wants to see us happy.

I love you, Ominis. I love you, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t. After everything that happened to me during fifth year, I’ve realized life is far too short to be separated from the ones we love.

Please give what I said some more consideration. See you soon.

XOXO, A.

It took a moment for Sebastian to realize his hands were shaking. His palms were sweating and his stomach churned. He couldn’t even pinpoint which emotion had taken charge of his body – disbelief, surely, but what about the betrayal? And the pain… my god, the pain. It slammed through Sebastian’s chest, knocking the wind from his lungs.

He read it again. Call him a masochist, but he had to be sure he understood correctly. He prayed his eyes had somehow managed to trick him, that it had all been a projection of his own deepest fears, or perhaps some cruel prank Ominis cooked up.

But Ominis wasn’t a prankster. And he would never joke about something as complex as Sebastian’s feelings – not when it came to her. Or so he thought. 

Sebastian had loved Annalisa Lark since the day she absolutely dismantled him during a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She was stunning to him in every sense of the word, and while their friendship was sometimes turbulent, Sebastian flocked to her like children to candy. He’d never admit to it, though. The only person who seemed to understand was Ominis.

But now, it seemed Ominis understood more than he’d let on. Sebastian stilled himself, the letter still in his hand. Had his best friend really stolen the love of his life? Perhaps that was a bit dramatic. She wasn’t Sebastian’s to steal. He was certain she didn’t even have those kinds of feelings for him. Still, surely Ominis knew about that unspoken gentlemen’s rule about not romancing your best friend’s love interest.

Sebastian’s shock shifted to fury. His conniption swelled as he mulled the situation over. His best friend had swooped in on her. The one and only girl he couldn’t bear to lose. 

He had to toss the letter aside to stop himself from crumpling it into a ball. Knives clouded his vision. He could choke Ominis until the life left his eyes. She said she loved him. She told Ominis the only words that could likely save Sebastian from a tragic demise.

And worst of all, they’d kept their romance a secret from him. They didn’t deem him worthy of sharing their secret. They thought it’d be easier to keep him out of their equation. He wasn’t meant to be a part of their secret society. 

Sebastian sank onto his bed, his gaze wavering in and out of focus. He didn’t know what to do. Should he storm down to the Great Hall and demand answers from them? Should he keep quiet and pretend he didn’t know? Should he make a last-ditch effort love declaration in hopes of stealing Annalisa back to her rightful place?

All of those options made sense in Sebastian’s mind, but Sebastian Sallow rarely made sense when it came to the most important matters of the heart.

Dinner and Potions essays be damned, Sebastian decided to retreat to the Undercroft.

---

“Sebastian! There you are.” 

For the first time in nearly three years, Sebastian was dismayed to find Annalisa in the Undercroft. She was curled up on a sofa she’d conjured during their fifth year, a book open across her lap.

Even from where he stood, Sebastian could see it was a romance novel. She was always reading those, as if she enjoyed the escapism into a world of longing stares and declarations of desire. She didn’t know she was living inside one of those novels; though this one was currently creeping toward an angst-ridden, tragic ending as far as Sebastian was concerned. The trope of his life was morphing from secret pining to the one that got away.

“There you are,” Sebastian replied. It was their routine greeting, a symbol of their bond since they were fifteen. Even in crisis, he wouldn’t stray from it. He needed its familiarity. 

“Where’ve you been?” Annalisa asked curiously as she shifted to one side of the sofa to make room for him.

“Quidditch practice.”

“Did you eat? I didn’t see you at dinner. I have some apples in my bag.”

Sebastian shook his head as he took the other half of the sofa. His posture betrayed him. He typically slouched into his seat, his knees parted while his hands absentmindedly twirled his wand. But tonight, he was rigid, his spine far too stiff and straight to fool her. “I’m not hungry.”

Annalisa frowned, her book now forgotten as she set it aside. “Since when have you ever turned down a meal?” she demanded with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian lied.

Annalisa scowled at him. “Sebastian Edward Sallow, do not play with me.”

Sebastian nearly barked a laugh at the irony of it all. If anything, she was the one playing with him; sneaking around behind his back with his own best friend, penning him passionate love letters while Sebastian had been none the wiser. 

He wanted to be disgusted with her, to lash out and demand answers. He wanted her to know how hurt he was by her decision to omit him from such a significant portion of her life. Even if she didn’t choose him, she could have at least filled him in on her stirring new romance – especially since it involved their mutual best friend.

But Sebastian could never be repulsed by her, even if he felt slighted. She was too much of all the good things Sebastian admired in life – a stunning little spitfire compressed into five feet of fearless conviction. She was compassionate and complex; she didn’t view the world in black and white the way so many others preferred to. She understood the frayed seams between good and evil and light and darkness. 

That realization was the moment Sebastian was certain he loved her. She stood by him after Solomon’s death and offered him unwavering support, because she knew the nuances of right and wrong. She had blood on her hands, too. The difference in their bloodshed was hers was an effort to quell darkness; Sebastian’s bloodshed had embraced it.

Still, Annalisa understood Sebastian at a level that transcended mere friendship, and because of that, Sebastian had grown certain she was his soulmate. But now, he wasn’t sure he knew her at all.

“Sebastian…” Annalisa was still peering at him expectantly. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted, his tense posture still exposing his discomfort. “I’m just exhausted, is all. 

Annalisa opened her mouth, fully prepared to interrogate him into a confession, but the entrance to the Undercroft clanged open again, revealing Ominis’ arrival. Sebastian stiffened even more.

“Ominis!” Annalisa greeted. “Sebastian here was just about to tell me why he’s so moody.”

“Sebastian, moody? I can’t imagine,” came Ominis’ dry reply.

Sebastian was in no mood for teasing remarks. Not when he was the third wheel to the two people he thought he trusted most. His irritation surged, and before he could suppress it, he was on his feet.

“I’ll just leave you two to it then, yeah?” he snapped. 

“Sebastian, what-” 

Sebastian brushed past a stunned Ominis and sulked from the Undercroft.

---

Sebastian hated Valentine’s Day. What a stupid, sordid excuse of a holiday, he thought. He slouched over his corner of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as he watched his classmates exchange jovial greetings and giggles over romantic gifts. It was positively nauseating. The arrival of Ominis taking the seat across from him didn’t sweeten the day.

“Brooding in the corner on Valentine’s Day,” Ominis mused. “How very cliche of you.” Sebastian didn’t reply. Ominis sighed and set his stack of books on the table between them. “Going to share with the class what’s had you so bent out of shape?”

Again, no reply. Ominis was no stranger to Sebastian’s tempestuous moods. They always became particularly stormy when Annalisa was inundated with attention from their classmates. Today, she sat at the Ravenclaw table with a short stack of valentines and an assortment of sweets surrounding her. Truthfully, Sebastian could cope with that – he’d witnessed their classmates’ attempts to court Annalisa on countless occasions. He was used to that. He wasn’t used to the nauseating knowledge that his own best friend was the one who had secured her heart, and in secret nonetheless. 

“Alright, mate,” Ominis sighed as he gathered his books again and stood. “But Cupid’s arrow isn’t going to find you while you’re commiserating by your lonesome self in a corner.”

As he retreated toward the doors of the Great Hall, Sebastian considered chucking a potato at his head. But something else stole his attention.

Another letter. Ominis must have left it accidentally in his haste to flee Sebastian’s orbit of agony. Sebastian snatched it off the table immediately, took a quick glance around the Great Hall, and read.

Dearest Ominis,

Happy Valentine’s Day, love! Thank you for the gorgeous flowers. They look positively stunning at my bedside. I look forward to gazing at them as the last thing I’ll see before I fall asleep. You are always the last thing on my mind at night anyway.

I am so looking forward to seeing you tonight. I hope it will be just as special for you as it is for me. See you at 7:00.

XOXO, A.

The edges of the parchment curled inward as Sebastian’s hands shook. They had a secret date planned for the night. They were going to have a romantic night together and neither of them felt any obligation to tell him. Their friendship was no longer a trio. They were a pair, plus one, single fool.

Sebastian crumpled the letter and stashed it in his pocket. He prayed Cupid would choke on a pumpkin pasty.

---

Sebastian’s sour mood didn’t stop there. It devolved by the afternoon, until all who crossed his path were at risk of a terrible lashing. 

Finally, Annalisa found him pouting beneath the Transfiguration Courtyard fountain.

“Sebastian,” she said sternly, her green eyes drilling him with impatience. “What is the matter with you? Ominis says you’re positively insufferable. What has happened?”

Of course Ominis called him that. Ominis was a treasonous, back-stabbing traitor who was too cowardly to even admit he was in love. If Sebastian had Annalisa, he’d tell the whole world, and would burn it down if anyone dared to question him.

“Ominis knows exactly what he’s done,” Sebastian snapped. 

“Clearly not,” Annalisa challenged him. “All we know is something has you upset. Stop isolating yourself and tell us. Tell me, at the very least.”

How rich. She was begging him to tell her, when she hadn’t bothered to tell him about her new little love affair.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian said, rising to his feet as he gazed at her with a pointed stare. “I’ll tell you my secret when you tell me yours.”

Annalisa blinked at him. “Secret? Sebastian, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

Sebastian slipped past her to head inside the castle in search of someplace more secluded. “Then neither do I.”

He wasn’t proud of his prickly behavior. It was reminiscent of his fifth year, when his obsession with curing Anne’s curse pushed him into a manic state, void of any logic. He wasn’t that far gone now, but he certainly was allowing his emotions to control him.

Fine. If Ominis and Annalisa were so into writing silly little love letters, he’d do the same.

Sebastian retreated to his dormitory, where he was relieved to find himself alone. He sat at his desk with two blank sheets of parchment in front of him.

Ominis,

It has come to my attention that you have entered into a romantic partnership with Annalisa. To say that I feel betrayed and slighted is an understatement. I thought you were aware of my feelings regarding our mutual friend and would use better judgment. It’s clear the two of you have chosen each other over me, so consider this my resignation from our friendship.

Sebastian E. Sallow

He snatched the parchment up and crushed it in his hand. This was meant to be a deeply personal declaration of deception and distress, not a polite invitation for afternoon tea.

He tried again.

Ominis– 

I know your secret. Consider this the final fallen pillar of our friendship.

See you in hell, Sebastian

Much better. One down, one to go. But the second one wasn’t as simple. 

Sebastian was certain he could be romantic, right? He’d been on his fair share of dates, had plenty of experience with girls. In truth, he had his pick of most girls at Hogwarts. Sure, he didn’t have the family name and wealth that Ominis had to offer, but he had a bright future as an early acceptance into the Ministry of Magic’s Auror program. He was charming and intelligent, charismatic enough to sway most people he encountered to his side.

Surely he could pen one simple love letter. But for as silver-tongued as he was when it came to getting himself out of trouble or convincing his classmates to help him with various endeavors, Sebastian had no idea how to tell a girl he loved her.

He sat glued to that spot for a good hour until the reject pile of letters not good enough for Annalisa’s eyes had formed a small stack on the desktop. No words could convey what he felt for her. No words were pretty or poignant enough. 

Annalisa,

I know you’re in love with Ominis and I don’t want to stand in the way of the happiness you deserve. But if there’s any chance I could ever compete for your heart, please know that I won’t go down without a fight.

I’ve loved you since that first day in Hecat’s class. I know I haven’t made life easy on you, but loving you’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. 

Tell me I have even the slightest shot at being yours and I promise you’ll always have my full effort.

Forever yours, Sebastian

It wasn’t good enough, but it was the best he could manage. He wasn’t meant to craft eloquent prose like Annalisa’s favorite romance novels. Because this was real, not a fictional work intended to entertain the masses, and Sebastian wanted to be sure she knew that. This was his brutal honesty, raw and real.

He sighed as he decided these two letters would have to do. He pocketed Annalisa’s and placed the other on Ominis’ nightstand before slinking off to the kitchens to eat dinner in solitude.

By the time he was finished, his pocket watch indicated it was 6:30. Ominis and Annalisa would be heading off to their date soon, likely at some romantic restaurant where they could cozy up to one another away from prying eyes. Sebastian couldn’t stand to picture it.

He had originally planned to send Annalisa’s letter via owl, but impulse control was never Sebastian’s strength. So in an act of desperation, he trekked up to Ravenclaw Tower and lingered outside the common room.

In a serendipitous act of fate, Samantha Dale was just returning from dinner.

“Samantha,” Sebastian breathed in relief. The Ravenclaw stopped in her tracks and lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here? Meeting Annalisa?”

“Oh, er, yes. Except I was hoping to surprise her,” Sebastian said, hoping he was convincing.

“Ooh, are you finally taking her on a date?” Samantha squealed. “It’s about time.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, but it’s a surprise. Can you let me into the common room?”

“Of course, right this way.” Samantha led Sebastian inside and gestured toward the girls’ dormitories. “Pretty sure you’ve been up here before, yes? You remember the way?”

Sebastian nodded and thanked Samantha, who continued into the common room. He strode hastily toward Annalisa’s dorm, praying she’d still be there. He knocked gently and felt his stomach contort at the sound of her voice inviting the visitor inside.

“Sebastian?” Annalisa blinked as he creaked the door open. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Sebastian was more confused than her. She was wearing pajamas and she sat up in bed, cozied beneath the covers with a book open. She certainly did not appear to be preparing for a romantic date.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked stupidly. Annalisa snorted.

“Sebastian, I live here.”

“But… you have a date.”

“I do? That’s news to me.”

That’s when Sebastian also realized there were no flowers on her nightstand. What was going on? Was this some sort of prank? A bizarre dream – perhaps an astral projection? He felt sick.

“But… but you and Ominis…”

Annalisa tilted her head, perplexed by the entire interaction as her eyes narrowed in concern. “Ominis? What does he have to do with this? Sebastian, what is going on? You’ve been acting so strange lately.”

“I…” Sebastian’s entire frame deflated, his shoulders slumping forward and his knees threatening to buckle. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Annalisa motioned for him to sit on the side of the bed. She watched him carefully as he did so, his hands resting atop his knees. He looked exhausted. 

“What’s this date you were talking about?” Annalisa asked as she tossed her book aside.

Sebastian sighed. There was no recovering from this. Even if he wanted to get out of this, to sweet talk her with some excuse, he knew he’d only leave with despair in his heart. “I thought you and Ominis had a date,” he said.

Annalisa looked like he’d slapped her. “You’re not serious.”

“I saw the letters. Your letters.”

“What letters?”

“The ones you wrote to Ominis.”

Annalisa felt dizzy, which was alarming because she was certain Sebastian was the one who’d gone loopy. “I didn’t write Ominis any letters,” she said. “Why would I? I see him every day. I don’t need to write him.”

Sebastian’s chest constricted. A flush crept from his neck into his cheeks. His lungs screamed for air. He didn’t understand.

“You’re not dating Ominis?”

“What?!”

Oh no. Had he really gotten it all wrong? How? He’d seen the letters with his own eyes. It all added up in his head. Had he really let himself spiral into an episode of assumptions and self-doubt? 

“Sebastian,” Annalisa continued, her voice a breath of laughter and perplexion. “What the fuck are you on about? Who told you I was dating Ominis?”

“No one told me. I accidentally saw letters written to him – love letters.”

Annalisa was clearly intrigued, another indication that she had nothing to do with said letters. “Love letters? To Ominis? From whom? And what made you think they were from me?”

“I only saw two of them, but they were both signed by the initial A,” Sebastian explained. “And one of them talked about a date tonight.”

“Well, clearly it wasn’t me,” Annalisa laughed. “This book is my hot date for the night.”

“But then, who…” 

Annalisa giggled, her eyes glinting with a facetious, knowing smile. “Sebastian, come on,” she said. “Think.”

“But I don’t-”

“Anne!” Annalisa continued.

“Anne?”

Sebastian froze as all the mental pieces shifted in his brain. Merlin. It made perfect sense – more sense than Ominis and Annalisa.

“You mean Ominis and Anne are in love?”

“Yes, silly,” Annalisa snorted. “Anyone with two eyes can see it.”

“But Ominis has two eyes and can’t s-”

“Sebastian, that’s beside the point.”

“Right, sorry. But… you knew? About them?”

“Not for sure,” Annalisa said. “But it’s always been pretty obvious that those two love each other. They share everything and they really only trust each other… they’d do anything for each other. Of course they’re in love.”

“Oh.”

Annalisa stared at him with exasperated eyes. “You really thought I’d date Ominis?”

“I mean, the two of you adore each other.”

“Yes, because we’re great friends. Surely you know we’d never consider each other romantically.”

“I didn’t think so, but then I saw those letters and… I just thought maybe I’d overlooked something between you two,” Sebastian explained.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Annalisa said. “Obviously I’m not on a hot date with our mutual friend. I didn’t have a date tonight, so I’m enjoying a cozy night in.”

“Oh.”

Annalisa’s brow furrowed as her gaze locked in on the folded parchment in Sebastian’s hand. “What’s that?”

Sebastian swallowed. There was no going back, he reminded himself. But this wasn’t how he wanted to tell her. He wanted to woo her with melodic words and grand gestures symbolic of his feelings. He wanted to make a case for himself she couldn’t refuse.

But if he had to convince her to love him, it wasn’t the right kind of reciprocation anyway. Still, his nerves were getting the best of him. 

“It’s nothing, spare bit of parchment,” he tried to say with a shrug. Annalisa shot him a look. 

“What is it?” she demanded. 

Sebastian frantically scanned his brain for the right words. He only had one shot at this. He had to get it right. 

“It’s a letter.”

“One of Anne’s letters to Ominis?”

“No. A letter from me to you.”

Annalisa tilted her head quizzically. “What do you mean? Why? What does it say?”

Sebastian averted his gaze, his eyes on the parchment in his hands. “Before I hand this to you, before I allow you to read it,” he started. “I want you to know that it was a result of a severe misunderstanding. When I thought you were in love with Ominis… I felt like I was going mental.”

“Is that why you stormed out of the Undercroft and have been sulking so much?”

“Yes.”

“Sebastian, why didn’t you just say something to us?”

“Because I thought you were trying to keep it a secret from me.”

“Why would we do that?”

“To avoid my wrath, apparently. Judging from the letters, it sounds like Anne wants me to know but Ominis is afraid to tell me.”

Annalisa’s lips curved in another knowing smile. “To be fair, I can’t say I blame him,” she said. “This is your sister we’re talking about here.”

“I know, but if there’s anyone I do trust to date my sister, it’s Ominis. He’s the only person I’d trust with her.”

“Well then, it sounds like you both have been making some inaccurate assumptions,” Annalisa mused. 

“I suppose so.” Sebastian raked a hand through his hair. “Look, when I thought you and Ominis were together, I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sebastian,” Annalisa laughed. “I just don’t understand why it had you so upset.”

“Because I don’t handle jealousy well,” Sebastian answered.

“Jealousy? Sebastian, don’t tell me you’re struggling to find a girlfriend. You-”

It was a good thing Sebastian was absolutely smitten with Annalisa, because for as brilliant as she truly was, she could be quite dense when it came to personal matters of the heart. “I thought Ominis had taken the only person I’m interested in,” Sebastian cut in. He maintained his gaze on the parchment, terrified to watch as the understanding settled within Annalisa. 

“Sebastian,” she breathed.

“Here,” Sebastian said as he extended his arm to offer her the letter. “Now you can have this.”

Annalisa reached tentatively for the letter, as if she knew reading it would change everything. Sebastian didn’t look as he listened to her unfold it. The room fell silent as her eyes scanned his penmanship. When he heard her inhale sharply, Sebastian considered flinging himself out the window.

He wasn’t prepared for her reaction. He had long accepted the reality that she could never possibly love him mutually. She might love him as a close friend, but she’d never understand the magnitude of her presence in his life. She was more than his shoulder to lean on and partner in crime; she was the gravity that grounded Sebastian to this world. If he lost her, he’d lose the anchor that kept the sea of dysphoria from sweeping him away again.

Sebastian decided he’d start by apologizing. He’d tell her he never meant to jeopardize their bond. He hadn’t even meant to fall for her. But he wasn’t sorry for loving her. It was the most genuine emotion he had. 

Then he’d assure Annalisa that their friendship didn’t have to change. He was determined to maintain it. He’d fight every one of his emotions tooth and nail for her. She had to understand that he’d never expect anything more from her than the privilege to merely be a part of her life.

“Sebastian,” Annalisa breathed. He finally turned to look at her and was stunned to see tears welling in her eyes. “Sebastian, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not really a casual topic for dinner discussion.”

“Sebastian, really.” Annalisa sniffed. “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian averted his gaze again, riddled by guilt and fear. He fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket while both seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Sebastian,” Annalisa repeated. She slipped from beneath the covers to sit next to him. Sebastian fought desperately to think about anything other than the way her silk pajamas clung to her body. “Sebastian, look at me.”

He exhaled slowly as he turned to face her, awaiting his fateful sentence. He assumed she’d let him down gently, tell him they were better off as friends. She was far too kind to raise her voice at him, though she was also fiery enough that she might slap him.

Instead, she threw her arms around him. Sebastian’s lungs deflated as he stilled, stunned by her sudden embrace. 

“Sebastian, you fool. You know I love you too,” she mumbled, her words muffled against his neck. It ignited a new heat that coursed through his limbs. He swallowed as her words clashed with the feeling of her soft lips against his skin. It was a staggering juxtaposition of sweet relief and untamed desire.

She loved him? Had he really managed to overlook that major detail in his life? Had there been signs? Sebastian blinked in disbelief. He'd orchestrated his fair share of stupid events, but this one took first place.

Annalisa closed her eyes as she continued to cling to Sebastian. “You really thought I was in love with Ominis?”

“Ominis is brilliant,” Sebastian offered with a shrug. “Girls seem to like that whole polished and proper thing he has going on.”

Annalisa snorted against his neck and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile in spite of his nerves. “Sebastian, when have I ever been the prim and proper type?” she murmured. The more she spoke and the more her lips buzzed vibrations across his skin, the more Sebastian squirmed.

“That’s true,” he answered, forcing his words until they sounded steady. “You do seem to have a proclivity for chaos and dramatics.”

Annalisa drew away just far enough to peer upward at him with a pointed gaze. Her green eyes gleamed with coquetry. “It’s not like I go looking for chaos,” she huffed. “It just seems to find me… sort of way you found me. Sometimes it’s good to attract chaos.”

“Are you calling me chaotic?”

“Are you denying it?”

Sebastian chuckled. “No. Can’t deny that.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you so tense?”

“Because I just confessed to being in love with you and now you’re pressed up against me.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Oh. Oh.

“I… don’t know.” 

Annalisa offered him a bemused smirk. “Boy, Seb, between that letter and all of this, you sure have a way with words,” she teased. “Lucky for you, you won me over years ago.”

“Years?”

Annalisa rolled her eyes, her impatience evident. “Yes, years,” she said matter-of-factly. “Which is why you should have told me.”

“You could have told me!”

“And ruin the absolute spectacle of you making a fool of yourself because of a couple love letters to Ominis? Never.”

That was enough talking, enough words for one day. Sebastian had spelled it all out, albeit rather awkwardly, but the swell inside his chest made it all worth it. He finally kissed her, which told her more than any stupid letter ever could.

Part II (Smut warning)

“Sebastian,” Annalisa whimpered. “Sebastian, please.”

Her hands were presently tangled in Sebastian’s hair as her legs were tossed over his shoulders. 

Annalisa was quickly learning that Sebastian may not always have a way with words, but he was certainly skilled with his tongue. His letter to her lay on the floor, having fluttered off the bed amid the frenzy of hungry hands and greedy kisses.

“Sebastian, don’t stop,” Annalisa begged as his tongue pressed patterns over her clit. He hummed in response, certain he’d go mad by the way she begged him for more. Her whimpering pleas, the taste of her arousal and the aftermath of their declarations of love had Sebastian teetering on the edge of an insanity that could only be stoked by adoration.

Sebastian’s tongue traced tiny heart shapes across her clit until Annalisa’s thighs tensed and the pitch of her moans spiked. “Oh fuck, Sebastian!” she cried as her nerve endings seared with pleasure. Her back arched off the bed and her fingers tugged at Sebastian’s hair until her orgasm subsided, leaving her chest heaving and her entrance soaked.

Sebastian, still stunned by the day’s revelations, sat back on his heels to admire her. She wasn’t in love with Ominis – his own sister was. But he’d wrap his mind around that part of the story later. The part that mattered now was Annalisa had been his the entire time, and she was eager to prove it to him. After he kissed her for that first time, she had practically climbed into his lap until they were tearing their clothes off.

Once she had caught her breath, Annalisa sat up to pull Sebastian into a long kiss. “Stand up,” she ordered. 

Sebastian blinked. He was enthralled by this bossy new side of her. Of course, one doesn’t save the world from a goblin rebellion by being a timid pushover, but Sebastian hadn’t anticipated this level of dominance from her. It made his cock twitch desperately.

He obliged and scrambled to his feet, holding his breath as he watched Annalisa fall to her knees on the floor in front of him. She took him into her mouth and tightened her lips around his shaft. Sebastian had to lean one hand on the back of her desk chair to support his weight. The suction pulling against his cock was dizzying.

“My god,” he groaned as he gazed downward to watch her work. Her hands snaked their way to the backs of his thighs, fingers pressing into his flesh as she used only her mouth to make him moan. 

Annalisa’s lips released their vice grip to make way for her tongue. She dragged it from the base of Sebastian’s cock upward, over and around the tip, leaving it slick with saliva. Sebastian whimpered at the sight of it. 

“Annalisa, please,” he begged. “Let me have you.”

Annalisa nodded in understanding and rose to her feet to pull Sebastian into a kiss. She nudged him backward to guide him toward the desk chair. 

“Sit,” she commanded. Sebastian obeyed and dropped into a seated position. Annalisa climbed over him, hands clutching his shoulders as she lowered herself. She held her breath, astounded that her quiet Valentine’s Day was ending in such a way. Much better than any of her romance novels.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into her waist as he felt his cock make contact with her entrance. He tensed as she sank slowly, a low whine escaping her throat as she stretched around him. “Sebastian, you’re big,” she whimpered.

“Take it easy,” Sebastian said gently, though every nerve ending in his body was electrified. The scorching heat surrounding his cock was surreal.

Annalisa lifted herself and dipped downward again. The friction made both of their breaths hitch. Sebastian fought to control his body’s response while Annalisa found a steady pace, her cunt gliding over his cock until the room echoed with the sounds of their slick union.

“I love you,” Annalisa whispered, her eyes meeting Sebastian’s as she studied his expression to ensure he was content. 

“I love you too,” Sebastian growled, his hands still pressing into her sides. He marveled at her; the way her full breasts bounced, her cheeks flushed, and her tight walls embraced him. He was desperate to feel her release. He had to know how she’d feel when she collapsed on top of him, her thighs shaking and cunt swollen from the intrusion of his cock.

Annalisa’s eyes fell shut as she worked, her hips rising and grinding as she rested her palms flat against Sebastian’s chest. The chair creaked beneath them. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Sebastian breathed.

She rocked her hips and let out a sharp moan as Sebastian’s cock speared her soft, sensitive spot. “Oh, right there,” she groaned. She repeated the motion, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she lost herself in the sensation stimulating her core. “Sebastian, I’m close.”

Poor Sebastian was hanging on for dear life. His mind was presently reviewing spell patterns he’d learned in Charms class to divert his attention. He didn’t find himself in such a drastic dilemma very often, but this was pure desperation.

Annalisa slammed herself hard down onto him, driving the depths of her walls around Sebastian’s cock until she could feel the familiar flutters. She squeezed and rocked until her walls gave way to her climax, throbbing with relief as she wailed and threw her head back. She collapsed her full weight into Sebastian’s lap, allowing the tip of his cock to settle deep inside her until the final twitches of her cunt evoked his orgasm. He swore as he gripped her hips and spilled within her, earning one final moan from her.

The room’s erotic echoes were replaced with their recovering breaths. Annalisa slumped against Sebastian, her body exhausted from bouncing on top of him, and her head hazy.

Sebastian was utterly spent. His forehead rested against Annalisa’s bare shoulder as the weight of the day’s overwhelming epiphanies settled within him.

Things had taken a turn for the better; a monumental shift in events that he never could have predicted. He felt foolish and guilty for his presumptive behavior, but elated that, finally, for once, things had worked in his favor.

Annalisa was watching him with soft eyes. “Alright?” she asked. Sebastian grinned, his hands tracing light lines up and down the small of her back.

“Alright,” he answered. “Just… thinking about how mental this day was.”

“Only because you’re mental,” Annalisa said as she climbed off him and began fetching her pajamas from the floor.

“Sorry,” Sebastian said with a sheepish smile. “I guess I owe you and Ominis an apol-” He froze, his eyes widening until Annalisa drew back in alarm.

“What is it?” she demanded.

“Ominis,” Sebastian said hastily as he scrambled to his feet and began redressing. “I- I wrote him a letter too. I have to go. I have to get rid of it before he sees it.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Sebastian flashed her an apologetic grin as he buttoned his shirt. “I might have told him we were no longer friends and to go to hell.”

“Sebastian!”

“In my defense, it was all for you, love.”

“It was downright foolish.”

“I know. Apologies, love. I’ll just go fetch and destroy it and then I’ll come right back, yeah?”

Annalisa sighed and crawled back into bed. “Yes, alright. I’ll be here.” 

Sebastian pressed a kiss to her forehead and sprinted back to the Slytherin dungeons.

[slut4slytherinss]

These feelings

SEND REQUESTS!!

Summary: in which reader and Mattheo despise each other, until the moonflowers bloom.

1,767 words

Warnings: no mention of the Slytherin friend group, Tom is Mattheo’s dad in this, surprisingly I’ve managed to write no cursing so.. ooc Mattheo! Rushed and not proofread, a total cliffhanger.

2nd person pov

Gryffindor reader

Female reader

The air in the Potions classroom crackled with more than just the fumes of Bubotuber pus. Mattheo Riddle, the epitome of Slytherin arrogance, smirked across the cauldron at you, a Gryffindor simmering with righteous indignation. His obsidian eyes, a chilling reflection of his infamous father, held a challenge you couldn't resist.

"Looks like your concoction resembles swamp muck more than Veritaserum, Gryffindor," Mattheo drawled, his voice a silken threat.

You bristled, your retort sharp. "At least I haven't resorted to cheating, Riddle." You knew it was untrue, at least in this class, but the way he effortlessly manipulated his potion, his every movement oozing practiced superiority, grated on your nerves.

Professor Snape, his usual scowl deepening, swept between your cauldrons, his black robes billowing like a storm cloud. "Silence! Riddle, five points from Slytherin for your disruptive commentary. Y/n, another five from Gryffindor for accusations. Now, focus on your potions!"

The rest of the double Potions lesson crawled by, punctuated by stolen glances and silent barbs exchanged between you and Mattheo. You couldn't deny a strange pull towards him, a morbid fascination that warred with your Gryffindor loyalty. He was everything you loathed – a dark echo of the war that had ravaged the wizarding world – yet you couldn't tear your eyes away from his sharp features and the way his lips curled into a sardonic smile.

-

Days turned into weeks, the animosity between you a constant undercurrent. You'd clash in Defense Against the Dark Arts, your jinxes meeting his hexes in a flurry of sparks. In Herbology, you'd find his carefully tended Venomous Tentacula mysteriously wilting, a silent message that only you understood.

One blustery April evening, you were returning from the library, a stack of Transfiguration books threatening to topple over, when you bumped into someone. Books scattered across the wet cobblestones, a frustrated groan escaping your lips.

"Need a hand, Gryffindor?"

Looking up, you met Mattheo's gaze. The smirk was absent, replaced by a hint of amusement. You considered letting him wallow in your misfortune, but a flicker of something… kindness? in his eyes softened your resolve.

"Actually, yes," you admitted grudgingly.

Together, you gathered the books, a comfortable silence settling between you as you brushed dirt off the parchment. As you handed him a particularly heavy tome, your fingers brushed. A jolt of electricity shot through you, making you gasp.

Mattheo's eyes widened for a fleeting moment before he masked his surprise. "Seems you're not immune to all Slytherin charms, Gryffindor," he said, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Heat flooded your cheeks. You snatched the book back, stammering, "It's nothing. Just… static." You turned to leave, desperate to escape the unexpected turn of events.

"Wait," Mattheo called out, his voice softer than you expected. He hesitated, then added, "The greenhouses are open tonight. The moonflowers are supposed to be blooming."

You stared at him, unsure of his motives. Was this another one of his games? Yet, the allure of the moonflowers, a rare and beautiful sight, was too strong to resist.

"Fine," you finally conceded, surprising yourself.

-

The walk to the greenhouses was filled with a tense silence. You stole glances at Mattheo, his profile sharp under the moonlight. He seemed different tonight, a vulnerability lurking beneath his usual arrogance.

Reaching the greenhouse dedicated to magical flora, you were greeted by the ethereal glow of moonflowers. Their petals, the color of moonlight itself, shimmered with an otherworldly beauty.

"They're… amazing," you whispered, mesmerized.

Mattheo stood beside you, uncharacteristically quiet. "They say they grant wishes," he said, his voice barely above a murmur.

You scoffed. "Wishes? Like childish fairy tales?"

He didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the moonflowers. You felt a sudden urge to know him better, to understand the darkness that clung to him like a shadow.

"Tell me about your father," you blurted out, the words catching in your throat.

Mattheo's head snapped towards you, his eyes hardening. "Don't," he growled, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Regret washed over you. You knew it was a forbidden topic, a raw nerve he wouldn't appreciate being prodded.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, turning away.

A tense silence stretched between you and Mattheo, broken only by the soft hum of nocturnal insects. The ethereal glow of the moonflowers seemed to mock the awkwardness, their delicate beauty a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.

"It's not that simple," Mattheo finally said, his voice low and strained. "He's powerful, yes, but there's more to him than just darkness. There's a reason some still follow him, a reason I can't entirely… disavow."

His words hung heavy in the air. You understood his hesitation. Voldemort, his father, was a symbol of pure evil, a name whispered in fear. Yet, a part of you couldn't help but feel a flicker of sympathy for Mattheo, burdened by the weight of such a legacy.

"Do you… fear him?" you asked softly, surprised by your own boldness.

Mattheo turned to you, his obsidian eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions you couldn't decipher. "Fear is a luxury I can't afford," he said finally. "But there's a constant… wariness. A knowledge that even the smallest misstep could have dire consequences."

You felt a pang of empathy for him. Despite his aloofness and occasional cruelty, Mattheo was just a boy, grappling with the burden of a monstrous father.

"You're not him, Mattheo," you said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "You have a choice."

He flinched at your touch, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze to where your hand rested on his arm. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a silent question hanging between you.

The heat radiating from his arm beneath your touch was unexpected, a stark contrast to the coolness of the night air. His fingers twitched, a silent battle raging within him between acknowledging the connection and maintaining his usual stoic facade.

"I know," Mattheo said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that's exactly what scares me." He turned away, his back ramrod straight, but you could see the vulnerability flickering in his tightly held posture.

"What scares you?" you asked softly, stepping closer. He remained silent, his jaw clenched, until you reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. His head snapped back, his gaze meeting yours, a storm of emotions brewing within.

"That this," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "this feeling… it weakens me." He gestured vaguely around the greenhouse, the unspoken implication clear - the vulnerability you represented put him at risk.

"Weakens you how?" you pressed, your voice a gentle challenge. "Makes you a target? Or makes you… feel something you haven't allowed yourself to feel before?"

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a grudging respect. He sighed, a tremor of vulnerability in the breath that escaped his lips. "Both," he admitted, his voice raw. "The truth is… I haven't allowed myself to feel anything for anyone other than myself in a long time."

His words hung in the air, a heavy confession. You understood. Growing up in the shadow of Voldemort, fear and suspicion were likely the only emotions he knew. The vulnerability he felt towards you was a foreign territory, something he didn't know how to navigate, something that scared him.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Maybe feeling something, even fear, is better than feeling nothing at all."

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your eyes. In that moment, the air vibrated with unspoken emotions – a mixture of fear, curiosity, and a spark of something else entirely.

"Maybe," he finally conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The tension started to dissipate, replaced by a cautious curiosity.

Suddenly, the harsh clanging of the castle curfew bell echoed through the night. Both of you jumped, startled by the sound.

"We should get back," Mattheo said, his voice regaining its usual composure. He offered you his hand, the gesture unexpectedly formal.

You hesitated for a beat, surprised by the formality of his outstretched hand. It was a stark contrast to the raw vulnerability he'd just revealed. Was he retreating back behind his Slytherin mask, the emotional connection a fleeting aberration?

Taking a deep breath, you slipped your hand into his. The warmth from his touch sent a jolt through you, a silent confirmation that the moment hadn't been entirely imagined.

"We should," you agreed, your voice barely a whisper.

-

The walk back to the castle was filled with a comfortable silence, a stark contrast to the charged tension that usually surrounded your interactions. You stole glances at Mattheo, his profile etched sharp against the moonlight. He seemed different tonight, a vulnerability lurking beneath his usual arrogance, a flicker of hope battling the ever-present wariness in his eyes.

As you approached the castle grounds, the imposing silhouette of the building a stark reminder of the rules and boundaries that separated Gryffindors and Slytherins, Mattheo stopped abruptly.

"Wait," he said, his voice low.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray curl behind your ear. His touch lingered for a moment, sending shivers down your spine.

"This…" he began, his voice husky, "this can't happen again, can it?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The danger of their connection, the weight of his family legacy, the very real possibility of getting hurt – all of it swirled in the space between you.

"I don't know," you admitted honestly. "But maybe…" you trailed off, searching his eyes. "Maybe it doesn't have to be like this. Maybe there's another way."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a slow, hesitant smile. "Another way?" he echoed, a hint of hope creeping into his voice.

You stepped even closer, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe we can find a way to be… more. Not enemies, not exactly friends, but something in between. Something real."

He stared at you for a long moment, the moonlight glinting off the unshed tears in his eyes. Then, slowly, he reached out and cupped your cheek with his hand.

"Maybe," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Maybe we can try."

The bell tolled once more, a harsh reminder of the world outside their bubble. With a final lingering look, Mattheo squeezed your hand gently before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the castle.

-

A/n: would you guys hate me if I ended it like that?

[ficswjackson]

favourite : severus snape fics 🦇

this will be a growing post where I will add more over time, you may see fics from here featuring on my favourite fics of list as well.

severus being ill by @frequent-apple

request | severus x oc severus is ill and y/n helps him, by looking after him.

[ nsfw ] come on time by @marvel-snape-writes

2.5k words | severus x oc. smut in the potions closest.

hair by @himegureisu

request | severus x reader severus snape and braids.

paternal figure by @seriouslysnape

5.6k words | severus x fem!reader severus and y/n are expecting,a. fic that goes through the nine months of pregnancy + how they live with it.

[ nsfw ] 'potion accident' by @frequent-apple

request | severus x oc potion accident, resulting in smut.

questions and answers by @himegureisu

request | severus x reader y/n and severus are marking exams, when y/n realises something about the way severus sets out his exams.

[ nsfw ] looking after severus by @frequent-apple

request | severus x oc femdom!reader y/n takes care of severus in the potions room.

you by @himegureisu

severus x fem!reader y/n's husband, severus, finally introduces you to his colleagues.

[ nsfw ] parchment by @frequent-apple

smut, straight up smut.

scarves and hats by @himegureisu

one shot ! severus x fem!reader y/n sends severus a scarf with their initials on as an apology.

[ nsfw ] dead man running by @seriiousgiirl

14k words | deatheater!severus x auror!reader y/n is consumed by hatred for your childhood friend and the person they love, severus and as events unfold unsettling truths come to the surface.

the yule ball (part 2) by @himegureisu

part 2 | severus x reader the yule ball is about to happen, and you arrive in the nick of time.

the cause of your happiness by @himegureisu

request | severus x dada!professor y/n is a professor and they always argue over the little things.

a momentary lapse in judgement by @himegureisu

request | severus x reader - y/n makes severus a plush of a cat.

joyful nightmares by @snowyslytherinowl

[jessybarnes]

Forbidden Love

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Word count: Over 5k

Tags: Acromantula, mentions of blood, death of a mythical creature, gore, angst, fluff, smut, bullying, broken bones, hippogriffs, unicorns, fluffy, centaurs, syringes, major character injury, near-death experience, age gap, teacher/18-year-old student relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, begging, forced reveal of feelings, forbidden forest, family drama, and I think that’s it.

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

A/N: This is a repost from one of my old Tumblr accounts. I altered the timeline a little to make this flow better. I realize that Gilderoy lost his memory during the Chamber of Secrets era. I also realize that Severus didn't take on the DADA teaching position until Harry's 6th year. I just wanted to make that clear for everyone. :) Enjoy! 

"Hmm…difficult, very difficult. Mmm yes, lots of ambition and very loyal too. A hint of creativity, but you seem to mask it well with your bravery...”

As the sorting hat’s voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, your mind began to flood with the past week’s events. 

It was the day after your eighteenth birthday when you discovered your Hogwarts letter. Your grandmother had been a great witch and even taught at Hogwarts after she finished her seventh year. From the moment you were born, she knew you were destined for good things. Your parents had forbidden her from using magic around you and even went so far as to hide your letter of acceptance on your eleventh birthday. It wasn’t until you were going through some of your childhood toys in the attic that you came across it. 

The letter was stuck to the back of an old photo album, and the writing had nearly faded completely. You ran your fingers over the yellowing parchment, the tip of your index finger raising slightly as it slid over the sealing wax. You recognized the symbol immediately. Your grandmother had it all over her house, and you’d thought it to be your family’s crest. The wax gave way easily and you pulled the letter out as carefully as you could. Your heart began to race and your breath caught in your throat. The letter was for you! You had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

You blinked and brought yourself back to reality, the hat seemed to be finishing up his assessment.

“...better make it...Slytherin!”

The table full of students to the far right of the hall erupted in cheer as you walked towards them. You took your seat and after the rest of the first years were sorted into their houses, the Headmaster approached the podium. He raised his hands and without saying a word, the whole room went silent. 

“Welcome! Welcome, everyone! It is my great pleasure to start off a new school year with a few minor changes. As many of you know, Gilderoy Lockhart is no longer capable of teaching. It seems a memory charm backfired and he’s lost all memory of who he is. Be that as it may, I am very pleased to announce that our own Severus Snape will be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Your eyes scanned the teachers at the head table and stopped when they landed on a man who looked slightly younger than the others. He stood and nodded ever so slightly before taking his seat again. Your gaze lingered on him as Professor Dumbledore continued on with his speech.

“Thus it’s only fitting that the one and only Professor Horace Slughorn takes Severus’ place as Potions teacher.”

Another professor stood up from the table and smiled as a round of applause reverberated off the walls.

“Now that we’ve determined who will be teaching what subject, I have an additional announcement to make. All students will refrain from entering the forbidden forest. Anyone who isn’t experienced enough to handle themselves will most certainly die a very horrible death. Now, without further interruption, let the feast begin!” 

With a wave of his hand, the empty plates filled with a delicious-looking meal. You ate quietly as the other Slytherins talked and carried on. Every so often, you turned to look at the mysterious man with the all-black attire. Mysterious didn’t even begin to describe him. Even though it wasn’t classified as magic, you had always found yourself skilled in reading people.

He looked particularly confident, his shoulder-length, black hair bouncing slightly as he talked amongst the other teachers. There was just something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Was it pain? The very moment you thought the word to yourself, his eyes snapped up to yours. Horrified that you were caught staring, you quickly turned your attention to your plate. Had he read your mind? 

Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you continued eating your meal thinking about the new chapter in your life. Though you didn’t know much about Hogwarts and the world of magic, you did know that this house, in particular, had a bad reputation. Your grandmother was a Ravenclaw, and would sometimes divulge knowledge about the other houses. The one thing you remembered about Slytherin was that its founder believed only certain people should be allowed to attend this school and practice magic.

Purebloods. 

You were the farthest thing from being a pureblood. In fact, you were what other witches and wizards would call a Muggle. That was another thing you learned from your grandma. Muggle was a term used to describe someone who had non-magic blood, or the less liked derogatory name, mud-blood. The fork in your left hand scraped across your plate as you pushed your food around aimlessly.

Why on Earth would the sorting hat put you in Slytherin? 

Soon, dinner was over and the prefects led the students back to their respective common rooms. You followed the other female students to the girl’s dormitory and found your trunk and owl had already been brought in. Nova chirped and tilted her head when she saw you, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Miss me already, sweetheart? Well, I missed you too.”

The soft feathers on her head slid between your fingers while you talked to her. Even though she didn’t talk back, it was always nice to feel like someone was listening. 

You settled on your bed and began drawing in your sketchpad as the other girls in your room talked amongst themselves. Their conversation hardly registered with you, your focus solely on the drawing of Nova you were currently working on. It wasn’t until one of the other girls tapped you on your shoulder that you noticed they were talking to you.

“Hellooo? Were you even listening to us?”

You set your sketch pad next to you on the bed and looked up at the three girls staring at you intently.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me. I was um … I was focused on my drawing.” 

The girl closest to you rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently.

“I said, why aren’t you eleven like the other first years?”

There it was, the question you knew would be asked eventually. You just didn’t think you’d have to answer it this soon.

“My um… Well, I suppose it’s because my parents hid my acceptance letter from me.”

The one with the blonde hair began to laugh.

“Why that’s absurd. Why anyone would hide a Hogwarts letter from their child is beyond me. Unless… wait… are you, not a pureblood?”

A sudden feeling of shame overtook you and your gaze wandered to your lap, a loose string on your blanket became instantly more interesting.

“I-I… Well, no… I’ve got non-magic parents actually.”

The third girl scoffed.  “Daphne, can you believe they let scum like this into our house?”

Blondie, who you presumed to be Daphne, snatched your sketchbook off the bed and tore it in two, and laughed. “Serves her right. Mud-bloods don’t belong in Slytherin.”

She drew her wand and pushed the tip into the skin of your throat making your whole body quake in fear.

“Listen up you vile little wretch, you’d better not lose us any house points if you value your life at all. Understand?” 

Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded quickly. “Y-Yes… Yes, I-I understand.”

She removed her wand and the two other girls followed close behind as they left the room. Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths trying to slow the rapid beating of your heart. A few minutes later, you let out a shaky breath and began to clean up the remnants of your sketch pad. Luckily, this was a brand new one and Daphne hadn’t torn up anything too valuable. 

Once you were finished, you slipped on your shoes and held out your arm to Nova. She chirped happily and sidestepped to your shoulder. Staying in your room anywhere near the other Slytherin girls was the last thing you wanted to do, so you decided to explore the castle grounds a little before bed. After all, it was only Friday night, and classes didn’t start for another two weeks. 

The crisp, fall air licked at your skin the moment you stepped out into the courtyard. It felt good to breathe the fresh air and you suspected that Nova felt the same. She immediately took flight and let out a happy screech. Part of you envied her. Being able to soar as high as the clouds away from all the negativity was something you could only dream of doing. 

You wandered around the castle grounds until you spotted a hut nestled at the edge of a tree line. The stone exterior and the pointed roof reminded you of the fairytales your parents used to read as bedtime stories when you were little. Light grey smoke billowed out of the chimney and you could faintly hear someone humming. Curiosity got the better of you, and you soon found yourself at the foot of the steps. 

Before you could knock, the front door swung open and none other than Hagrid looked down at you.

“Why ‘ello there, lass! Teh what do I owe yeh the pleasure?”

You’d only known him for a few hours, but you could tell that Hagrid had a big heart and good intentions.

“I just needed some fresh air that's all. Things are… a bit much in my house.”

Hagrid studied you as you spoke. It didn’t take a genius to know something was bothering you, and he saw right through the fake smile plastered on your face.

“Why don’t yeh come in fer a spot of tea? I can tell something is troublin’ yeh.” 

It became a sort of routine, the evenings you’d spend with the Hogwarts groundskeeper. After Hagrid had learned the way the other Slytherins were treating you, he’d made it clear that you could spend the night in his spare room any time you needed to. You insisted on paying him for his hospitality, but he always refused. All he had ever asked in return was help taking care of the mythical creatures. Most would probably view it as a chore, but you found it extremely therapeutic. 

Friday evening before school started, you noticed Hagrid was missing from the teacher’s table. After dinner, you jogged along the path to his house and noticed the lights inside his hut were off.

Hmm...that’s weird, you thought to yourself.

Normally, he’d be making a pot of tea right about now. Tentatively, you walked up the steps and lightly knocked on his door.

“Hagrid? Hey, are you home? It’s Y/N…” You tried the door, and it opened easily. “Hagrid? I’m coming in…”

Fang peeked at you over his paw and yawned lazily. Other than the glow of the fire, nothing showed signs that he was home. As quietly as you could you walked to the back towards his bedroom. There, wrapped up in blankets and looking beyond miserable, was the half-giant himself. 

“Oh, Hagrid… what’s the matter? You look like you feel awful.”

He coughed and sneezed a few times before blowing his nose into a hankey. His skin was clammy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I’m sick, lass. Yeh shouldn’t come near me if ye know what’s good fer ya.”

Out of instinct you put the underside of your wrist against his forehead and grimaced.

“Hagrid, you’re burning up! Come on! We have to get you to Madame Pomfrey.” 

You helped him stand and carefully started to lead him toward the castle. It took nearly fifteen minutes, but finally, you were able to get him to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey motioned to a bed and helped you lay him down. She insisted that she keep him overnight so she could monitor him, but Hagrid was having none of it.

“No! Absolutely not! I can’t stay ‘ere overnight. Who’ll feed Fang an all me other beasts? Buckbeak ain’t the nicest Hippogriff when he’s missed a meal yeh know.” 

Your hand came down to cover his as you looked him in the eyes.

“Hagrid, please...stay here and let Madame Pomfrey take care of you. I’ll take care of feeding them tonight, okay? It’s not like I haven’t helped you make your rounds for the past week and a half.”

The groundskeeper sighed with defeat and nodded.

“Alright Y/N, I’ll stay an let yeh take care o’ my pets, but yeh have ta promise me you’ll be careful.” 

You gave him a soft smile and stood to smooth out your robes. “Don’t worry, Hagrid. I’ll be quick and efficient just like you taught me. I even made myself a list so I remember which animal eats what as well as where they’re all located. I’ve got this!”

Before he could change his mind, you hurried out of the room and back to his hut to grab what you needed. According to the list, you had five different species to feed tonight. The unicorns, Buckbeak the hippogriff, Fluffy the three-headed dog, the centaurs, and Aragog the acromantula.

None of these mythical beasts ever acted like they were harmful, but they weren’t to be taken lightly either. Not to mention you were with Hagrid every time you’d fed them before. After loading up the bags with their food, you made sure you had your wand before approaching the edge of the forest. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, the shadow from the trees always made the forest dark and a thin layer of mist lingered near the forest floor. 

Fluffy was first on your list. His doghouse was about fifty feet within the forest. Brandishing your wand, you cast Lumos Maxima and took the trail to the west. A few minutes later, you could hear light snores echoing off the trees. Making sure you had the three slabs of meat at the ready, you whistled to get the giant beast’s attention. 

"Fluffy! I got you some dinner!"

The dog's left head yawned enthusiastically and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, that's enough sleeping. It's time for some yummy meat!"

The middle head began to growl and bare its teeth at you while the one on the right shook its head back and forth violently.

"There we go, nice and easy…" You slowly got closer and gently set the slabs of meat within his reach before backing off." 

You stuck around long enough to make sure he saw the food and then walked north towards the part of the forest where unicorns made their homes. It surprised you to learn that they preferred witches over wizards. Hagrid had told you that they were very fast, so much so that they could outrun a werewolf. 

Instead of trying to seek them out, he set up feed pails around their homes and filled them with food. As you were filling the pails, you saw a golden blur out of the corner of your eye. It startled you at first, but then you remembered Hagrid telling you that unicorn fouls were gold in color. 

Staying completely still, you waited until it poked its head out from behind the tree.

"Hi, sweetheart. You want some food?"

At the mention of food, the foul whinnied and slowly approached your outstretched hand. It broke your heart that these beautiful creatures were nearly extinct. You gave light scratches to the tufts of fur behind its ears, the serene moment nearly making you forget where you were. 

After hand-feeding the baby for a few minutes, you quickly filled the rest of the pails before heading towards the centaurs. Hagrid always made sure you remembered how proud the centaur breed was. They didn't like to be classified as "beasts" along with thestrals, merfolk, or werewolves. They also ate both human and equine food. 

It was a good thing you remembered to grab both types. You didn't want to upset them at all, let alone do so without Hagrid around to protect you. As you approached their den, a familiar face came to greet you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

Firenze stood tall as he looked down at you, his unwavering gaze making you a bit nervous.

"H-Hey! Sorry, it took me a bit to get here. Hagrid isn't feeling well, and I had to take him to the hospital wing." 

The creature nodded and uncrossed his arms.

"That's quite alright. I see you brought my colony dinner."

You offered a smile and held out two big knapsacks of food. "I did! I wasn't sure what you would prefer so I came bearing a variety of things...I-I hope that's okay."

Firenze chuckled and placed one of his large hands on your shoulder. "That's very kind of you, Y/N. Please give Hagrid my best. I do hope he recovers quickly."

With a nod and a wave, you watched him until he was out of sight. 

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you turned east and walked in the direction of the area Buckbeak frequented. You’d come to love the Hippogriff ever since Hagrid introduced you to him. It only took you about five minutes to navigate the trail before you could hear the excited bleats coming from a group of trees. Making sure to stop the moment you crested the hill, you made eye contact with Buckbeak and bowed low.

The Hippogriff turned and tilted its head momentarily and then bowed in return. You took the dead ferrets out of the bag and tossed them in the air for him to catch. When you ran out he nudged the side of your face and chirped happily.

“Yes, I love you too, Beaky. You’re a good boy!”

Kissing his beak sweetly, you bade him goodnight and walked south toward the heart of the forest. Time to feed the final species on your list.

Aragog.

Even though they were capable of human speech, acromantulas were the one beast you had a fear of. As you approached Aragog’s lair, hundreds of tiny spiders crawled on the ground next to you. Taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself, you crept into the pitch-black den with your senses on high alert. At the heart of it sat the beast himself.

“Who dares to come into my home?”

With a shaky hand, you reached into your bag and quickly pulled out a dead fox as an offering. 

“A-Aragog? It’s um…it’s Y/N, the one who has been coming with Hagrid to feed you. I have umm… I have some birds and foxes for you.”

The large arachnid stalked closer to you, its eyes like black holes as it seemed to stare into your soul.

“Yes… the young fleshy girl who claims to be a friend of Hagrid. Tell me, where is my keeper? What have you done to him?” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and your fight or flight instincts began to kick in.

“I-I-I didn’t do anything to him. He… he isn’t feeling well and I told him I’d come and bring you dinner…”

You hadn’t realized you were backing up until your heel caught a crooked root poking through the ground. Pain shot through your ankle as you fell against the floor of the den. Aragog clicked his fangs together and you flinched as his voice boomed around you angrily.

“I don’t believe you! I’ve known Hagrid for over fifty years, and not once has he missed a feeding!”

As graceful as your sprained ankle would allow, you scrambled to your feet and dumped the dead birds and foxes on the ground in front of you.

“H-Here’s your food… I… I’m just gonna go…”

The venom from his fangs began to drip on the ground as he moved even closer to you.

“Go? Oh, I don’t think so, friend of Hagrid. Those foxes and birds may sate my son's and daughter's hunger, but they won't satisfy me."

Ignoring the throb in your injured foot, you clambered out of the den as fast as you could. Branches swatted you in the face as you sprinted toward Hagrid's hut. Aragog was hot on your heels as the castle grounds became more and more visible. Just a few more feet and you'd be safe. 

A rotted tree trunk caught your eye, but it was too late for you to avoid it. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, your wrist that broke your fall was surely broken. Turning to face the fastly approaching acromantula, you pleaded for him to stop.

"Aragog, please! ….I...I didn't do anything to Hagrid… please don't hurt me!" 

The giant spider loomed over you, its fangs clicking together violently.

"Goodbye, friend of Hagrid…"

You let out a blood-curdling scream as its pincers tore into your flesh, the moonlight fading away until you slipped into unconsciousness. 

Nights were usually the time Severus took to think. It was his free time, save for the occasional disobedient student wandering the corridors. He'd just walked past the open courtyard when a small owl flew down to land on his shoulder.

"Get off me you insolent bird!"

It let out a screech and circled him before settling on his other arm. 

"Merlin’s beard, what is it that you want?!"

Just as he was about to send it away, he noticed a small charm bracelet attached to the owl's left leg. Curious, he cast Lumos and read the inscription. 

Name: Nova Jane

Property of: Y/F/N Y/L/N

"I see...you're the property of the new Slytherin girl. Go on then! Go back to the dormitory."

Nova nipped at the buttons on his sleeve and screeched loudly. Just as Severus was about to scare it off, your scream echoed throughout the castle grounds.

"Take me to her! Now!"

Nova took flight and soared in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Severus ran as quickly as he could, his robes flowing behind him like a cape. His heart thundered against his chest as he broke through the treeline. 

The moment he saw Hagrid's acromantula towering over you, he drew his wand and aimed for its head.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The spell sent Aragog catapulting backward, its body falling lifeless against the base of a large tree.

Seeing you lying there motionless made his blood run cold.

"Oh, Merlin…no no no..."

He sank down in the mud and put two fingers against your neck, a breath of relief falling from his lips when a faint pulse fluttered against them. His eyes scanned your body, worry prickling his skin at the number of deep cuts you had. He knew you wouldn't survive if he didn't act now. 

With a shaky hand, he pointed his wand to the deep gash in your abdomen.

"Vulnera sanentur…"

A glow illuminated from it and within seconds it was as if the wound never existed. He did the same for the other large wounds as well as your wrist and ankle before lifting you into his arms. He may have stopped the bleeding, but you still had the acromantula's venom flowing freely in your veins. He only had a few minutes to reverse the toxins. 

Closing his eyes, he apparated to his sleeping chambers and gently laid you on his bed. Severus worked quickly to mix up the antivenom. Once it was mixed properly, he used a syringe to inject it into all of your main arteries. 

It became a waiting game. You'd lost a lot of blood, nearly too much, and all Severus could do now was hope you'd wake up. He found himself pacing, checking your pulse every so often to make sure you were still breathing. Eventually, the adrenaline in his body wore off, and it made him realize how tired he was. 

He shed his robe, toed his shoes off, and with a snap of his fingers, a fire began to crackle and pop in the fireplace. He sat and pondered to himself. What was he supposed to do with you? It wasn't like he could take you to Madame Pomfrey now. Not after he'd healed you the best he could. Plus, he was sure the other Hogwarts staff would question him on why he took you back to his chambers. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he'd done it. He acted on pure instinct. 

His gaze wandered over to where you were laying. Severus felt himself relax upon seeing your chest rise and fall. He'd done it. He'd saved you. His eyes began to get heavy as he listened to your soft breathing. Unable to stay awake any longer, he let sleep consume him. 

The smell of tea filled your nostrils as you tried to recall where you were. Last night's events flooded your mind and your eyes immediately snapped open. 

Scanning the room, your brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn't the hospital wing, and it definitely wasn't Hagrid's. You sat up, your back against the headboard, and scanned your exposed skin. Other than a few bruises, there wasn't any sign of injury on you at all. Had it all been a dream? 

The sound of the door opening brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened at the sight of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher carrying a teacup and saucer.

"Oh, you're up. Good." He strode over and set the cup down on the nightstand next to you. "Drink this. It'll help you feel better." 

You blinked up at him, your eyes staring into his obsidian ones. Even though he wore a scowl ninety percent of the time, your professor wasn't bad looking. In fact, you found him quite attractive. His form-fitting robes with all those buttons and his confidence drew you in almost immediately. 

It was then that you remembered he'd spoken to you. Forcing your brain to form words, you stuttered out a response.

"I...um…th-thank you, Professor…"

His stone-faced expression didn't waver as he sat down on the comforter next to you.

"Why, Y/N? Why would you put yourself in danger like that?! You could have been killed! Merlin, if it wasn't for your insolent bird, you would have been!" 

You focused on your lap, your cheeks red with shame.

"M'sorry… I was just t-trying to help Hagrid fe-"

You slapped your hand over your mouth and internally cursed yourself. Hagrid made you promise not to tell anyone you were helping him, and here you've almost told none other than Professor Snape! 

"Go on…"

Shaking your head, you moved to get off the bed.

"I… I can't… Thank you for saving me, Professor. I'll just be going…"

His firm hand came to rest on your thigh and with little force, he pushed you back down onto the bed.

"Listen to me, Y/N. I'm your Head of House. Either you tell me what you were doing in that forest, or I'll make you tell me." 

The demand in his tone sent shivers down your spine. It really should be a sin to have a voice like his.

"I-I...um…"

Severus rolled his eyes and stood to walk across the room. He came back with a vial, with a small amount of liquid in the bottom.

"Know what this is?"

You shook your head.

"This is Veritaserum. Three drops of this, and it'll make you spill your darkest...of secrets…" 

You watched as he poured the small amount of liquid into a glass of butterbeer.

"Drink…"

Instead of obeying his orders you grabbed the teacup off the saucer and swallowed its contents.

"Thank you, Professor, but I’m no longer thirsty and I don't like butterbeer." 

For the first time since you arrived at Hogwarts, his lips gave a hint of a smile.

"It's no matter. What do you suppose I did with the rest of the serum, hm?"

All the color drained from your face, your mouth opening and closing like you were a fish out of water. 

"The tea…"

Your professor chuckled, "Yes, the tea. Now, tell me, what were you doing in the Forbidden Forest after curfew?"

You couldn't stop them. It was as if you were possessed. The words came flowing out of you on their own accord.

"I was helping Hagrid feed his mythical creatures. He's in the infirmary sick and I offered to do it so he didn't have to." 

Severus narrowed his eyes. "How long have you been doing this?"

You swallowed thickly. “Since the first day of school. Some of the other Slytherin girls were bullying me so I went for a walk. It was then that I formally met Hagrid. He offered me his spare bedroom, and I’ve been sleeping there ever since…”

He rose to his feet and began pacing again, his hands behind his back. “And he lets you stay...for free?” 

“I can stay as long as I help him tend to the mythical creatures that live in the forest. He taught me everything he knows and I help him with feedings.”

Severus stopped and turned to face you. “Did you ever think of coming to me for help with the bullying? I am the Head of Slytherin you know.” 

Oh, how you wished you could hold back the words threatening to escape. No matter how hard you tried, it was no use.

“I was too nervous to come to you, Professor.”

He raised an eyebrow, his hands fidgeting out in front of him. He knew his presence intimidated most of the children attending Hogwarts, but he decided to use this to his advantage.

“Obviously...And why, do you suppose, I make you so nervous, Y/N?” 

“I suppose it’s because I’m in love with you.”

Your response came out just above a whisper, but he still heard every word. Out of every scenario in his mind, Severus did not expect you, a young woman, to say that. For a rare moment in his life, he was rendered speechless. It took him a moment to collect himself, but once he did he noticed your face was buried in your hands. Merlin, help him, you were crying and it was all his fault. 

He slowly moved to where you were laying and sat down so he was at your level. Without giving it any thought, he pulled you into his chest and began rubbing small circles on your back to soothe you.

“Merlin, what was I thinking? I shouldn’t have forced the truth out of you like that. Please...forgive me.”

You clutched at his robes and moved your tear-filled eyes to his.

“I forgave you the moment it happened, Professor.”

A few silent moments passed between the two of you and he continued to hold your gaze. Severus was the first to move. Ever so slowly, he leaned down to capture your lips. 

His mouth melded with yours perfectly, and he didn’t stop until his lungs demanded it. Your eyes closed, your forehead coming to rest against his.

“Professor I-”

He silenced you with another chaste kiss. “Severus…Call me Severus, Y/N.” 

“Please Severus…make love to me.”

His resolve broke the moment the plea fell from your lips. Severus gently laid you back and gently rid you of your tattered robes. His calloused hands slid over your smooth skin making your breath hitch. He peppered kisses down into the crook of your neck, his path moving to the space between your breasts.

“S-Severus...please…need you…”

He nipped playfully at your jaw and sat up slightly to take his shirt off.

“Patience, Y/N… I’ll take care of you.” 

Once he was bare before you he made his way between your legs. His touch was tentative, his fingertips brushing your folds gingerly. He circled your clit making you arch off the bed.

“Oh, Merlin!... Fuck!”

Severus chuckled and slid two of his fingers inside you curling them upwards.

“Bloody hell, you’re soaked, Y/N…”

He easily found the sensitive spot inside of you, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter with each passing second.

“Please! Oh…shit… Se-Severus! M’gonna cum… please… please make me cum!”

His cock twitched at your words, precum leaking from the tip.

“Let go, Y/N...cum for me…”

With a cry of his name, you fell over the edge. Your chest heaved as you pulled him up for a heated kiss. 

“Need you, Sev. Need you inside me. Please…”

As carefully as he could, Severus lined himself up and pushed into you.

“Merlin, you’re so tight!”

His thrusts were steady and his kisses were fervent as he made love to you.

“Oh, fuck! Sev! Oh, you’re so good… so good, baby…”

Both of you wanted it to last, but it was clear you both needed the release more.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer like this… you feel amazing...so amazing.”

You slid your fingers through his thick hair and pulled his mouth down to yours. “Cum with me, Severus…” 

A moment later, both of you soared into bliss together. His lips rested against your own and his body shook as he spilled into you, your walls clenching around his cock. Severus was spent as he settled behind you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

“Y/N, I need to know you’re okay with this...with us…”

Threading your fingers with his, you planted a sweet kiss on the back of his hand.

“Severus, our love may be forbidden, but I’d choose you no matter what it cost me. I’ll take you as you are. Your highs, your lows, all of it. I’ll love you until my last breath.”

He turned you in his arms and cupped your cheek.

“I never thought I’d ever love another. Not after Lily, but seeing you in the forest like that sparked something in me. Something I haven’t felt for nearly fourteen years. I’ll spend forever protecting and loving you. 

As your eyes grew heavy, you felt a new sense of worth. Coming to Hogwarts was something you’d only dreamed of growing up. The moment you found your acceptance letter, you knew your life would change. You never thought you’d find someone to love here, but for once you were happy, and that’s all you’d ever wanted.

[siriuslychessi]

For the @jilychallenge a bit late since this was for July.

Partners: @tedwardremus and @thecasualauthor

AO3 | FF

Summer trip to (uninhabited, remote, idyllic holiday) island but by accident A & B are left behind alone (or they miss the boat back to main land or a shipwreck (boat wreck??) happens

James Potter could never stay still, it was a blessing and a curse. He could be bored to death in a class and he would always be restless somehow. He would either bounce his leg, write on the corner of his books and parchments, or play with a stolen Snitch when professors were not looking. 

It wasn’t James’ fault that he was so full of energy, he did try to stay still, he did try to seem like he was paying attention, but in reality he was bored in many of them. Having eidetic memory and an abundance of energy really played against him. 

However, when it came to classes outdoors James became much more serene. He loved Care of Magical creatures, going to the grounds exploring, or how he needed to get his hands dirty with Herboly, but what had gotten his attention lately was Astronomy. 

Professor Pruitt had a hands-on approach to teaching, he rarely liked the Tower for his teachings and was always testing their knowledge in the field (near the Forbidden Forest), which James was always excited for. And even if at first he took the class for an easy O, now it had become one of his favourite ones. 

For his 6th year students, Professor Pruitt had a surprise; they would travel to the coast to be able to watch a comet that passed near earth every 60 years, and this time around it would be visible in the southern part of the country. 

It meant a trip with the Astronomy class for two nights, maybe if the weather would allow it they might be able to enjoy a bit of the beach before returning to classes and tests, and all the things they needed to overcome before the end of the school year. One last trip of fun before going back to the responsibility of the upcoming reality that awaited them back home. 

James and his friends were beyond excited. Even if Sirius already knew the sky like the back of his hand, Remus was so determined to get as many O’s as possible that he learned everything he could from the book the Professor used for class. Peter was something to admire, he might not know every star, but knew every constellation name and their stories, and how they related to magical events. It was a thing of wonder.

All they could do was plan for the trip and hope that the usual group of bigoted students wouldn’t make things worse. 

Once they finally arrived at the Isles of Scilly the weather was amazing, it screamed to ditch the group and just got to the beach, however Professor Pruitt had other plans. 

“Before I lose you lads to the island, I must remind you that this is not a leisure trip, we are here with a purpose, and thus I must give you these.” The older man handled everyone a parchment with a copy of the assignment, “The comet will be visible around 4am, so we must get there before that and settle, some muggle bystanders might be around, so please refrain from using magic.” he explained, as he finished handling the paper, “You have been randomly paired, no you can not swap, and I expect a full report by the end of this trip. That is all.” 

James was sure that whomever he would be paired with it wouldn’t be too terrible. 

As he scanned the paper he heard a familiar voice exclaim: “Potter?!”

Lily had read the list of things they needed to measure and how to better calculate the trajectory of the comet to get accurate readings and optimal experience. She knew that celestial events affected living beings and that might affect the ingredients and steps in potion making, so she was taking this class fairly seriously, as she wanted to pursue a career in Potions. 

Everything seemed in order, instructions were straight forward, and she could actually picture herself relaxing before going to the top of the nearby mountain for a better view.

That was until she saw the name of the person she was paired with: James Potter.

The gods did not smile upon her, Lily had had a weird relationship with the fellow Gryffindor, they weren’t on bad terms at the moment, but she felt that they were not exactly friends. And in spite of him being a great student, and probably a great teammate, she just remembered how he could not stay put for more than 5 minutes. Which might infuriate her at the end of a long evening. 

After she, unintentionally, said his last name out loud, everyone in their group turned to her. The tone of her skin matching the one of her hair. 

“All right, Evans?” she heard James Potter asked.

Lily blushed harder. 

“Yes, just didn’t expect us to be paired.” she admitted, putting the parchment inside her back. 

James seemed like he was mulling over something, was she really that loud? Was her tone that annoyed? She didn’t want to go back to the awkward phase they were in after 5th year, once was enough. They have so many friends in common she did not want to go back to weather talk. 

“I thought somehow you would charm the papers to be with Sirius, we all know you two can not be apart.” she tried joking, making some eyes roll. 

“He knows he can’t have me forever, Red.” Sirius chipped in, “I should find McKinnon to sort the schedules.” he explained, patting James' shoulder, who looked disheartened, he was not looking at Lily, nor at Sirius leave. James was just nodding to his friend’s statement.

One by one they all went to their partners trying to come up with a plan where they could all enjoy and do the assignment. Leaving James and Lily alone to speak. 

James ran his hand through his hair, messing it more than it already was. Something she had noticed increased near herself. 

Did she make him nervous?

“We should also try to schedule our times.” she offered, hoping that it would be an olive branch more than anything. 

Every interaction with James and Lily seemed weird, they were not on bad terms, they were amicable towards each other, but it seemed that as much as they both changed (individually and as friends) things weren’t smooth. James was always afraid of saying the wrong thing, and Lily always believed she was too hard on her fellow classmate, when lately she could see more of his point than she cared to admit. 

After a lot of fidgeting from James, not knowing what to do with his pent up energy. And Lily’s rambling and blushing, they decided that they would each pack a bag with different things, a thermos of warm tea, and met in front of the hotel at 3am when the classroom decided to leave with the Professor. 

Both of them tried to enjoy their day with their friends and did a bit of exploring around, enjoying the different view from Scotland and Hogwarts grounds. And one would say that they would be exhausted after a day at the beach where they did anything but lay down and sunbathe. 

However, James’ restless energy was too much to be contained. He did try to get a few hours of sleep, tossed and turned in bed as his mind went over the things in his bag, making a mental list trying to not forget anything, if he did he was sure that the awkwardness between him and Lily would be more palpable. But in spite of double checking that everything was correct, he could not find rest. 

Checking the watch on his nightstand he saw that it was around 2am. He still had one hour to meet with Lily, and the rest of the class, and judging by how awake he really was it would be almost impossible to fall asleep.

Suddenly an idea formed, it wasn’t a particularly bold one, but it was better than staying in bed looking at the ceiling.

Gathering his things, leaving a note in the nightstand and trying not to wake his best mate sleeping in the bed next to his, he climbed down the room to the front of the little hotel and to the street. 

The night was chillier than he expected, the day was so warm that he forgot that they were still in the United Kingdom and not some tropical place. It was good that he decided to bring a jumper. 

During the day James and his friends went exploring around, they found the place where Professor Pruitt had decided to take his students to see the comet. It was a nice mountain that overviewed the island. He figured that he had enough time to go up there, set the equipment in the best spot; gain some points with Lily, and go back before they needed to meet. 

Some people might think he was crazy and he would be beyond exhausted when he would get back with the group. Hindering the project in the process. But James knew that it was the opposite, he would be the right kind of tired, where he would be useful instead of trying to stay still and failing in the process. 

That’s how his journey started, with a positive attitude and considering if he should get snacks after he got back. 

The moon was half full, making it ideal to see the sky but also to not trip over the walk, and the path to the viewing spot wasn’t steep, with a good pace anyone could make it up and back. 

Due to the hour James imagined the path to be deserted, he figured he could transform into Prongs once he was more hidden by the surrounding trees, enjoying the freedom of running around a new landscape. It would be a great way to go and come back, doing even better time; not wanting to be late in case Lily decided to be there earlier than what they had agreed upon. 

Closing his eyes he focused on the familiar shapes of Prongs; the long legs, the white fur, the itchy antlers that were about to shade. Everything to evoke the perfect transformation. 

Feeling the familiar pull in his gut he let every other thought out from his head…

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice asked.

Of all the times that James expected to hear Lily Evans’ voice, in the middle of a transformation was not one of them. He knew things could go wrong if he did not focus and he tried his best to stop the spell as it were. It seemed that his body listened better than his brain.

“I couldn’t sleep.” he admitted, turning to look at her. 

Lily’s cheeks were sunkissed, James could see that she had spent a day at the beach. She would probably have a few more freckles after the trip. James found himself thinking. 

“So you decided to sneak out and go for a walk,” it wasn’t accusatory, it was matter-of-fact.

“If I stay in, I'll start waking everyone up, figured it would be best if I did something useful with my energy.” he shrugged, readjusting one of the straps of his backpack. 

“Seems we were both thinking the same thing.” 

Lily smiled at James, and it seemed all of the tension and worry from earlier had vanished; his shoulders relaxed, and he found himself smiling back at her. Maybe this wouldn’t be a disastrous pairing after all.

“Where were you planning on going?” Lily asked.

James blushed, he really didn’t want to be seen as the dork that wanted to be prepared, but it was true that was what he was thinking. “I thought maybe I could go and grab us a good spot to watch the comet.” he admitted, hoping she wouldn’t think he was the biggest dork in history. 

“Oh,” she sounded surprised, James was not sure how he felt about that. 

“That sounds like a great idea.” Lily added, as she was wondering why she didn’t think of that herself. She just wanted to get rid of some energy before the class gathered. 

They started walking in silence uphill, there was nothing much to distract them from the awkwardness. It was not that they didn’t have anything in common, just that Lily believed that everything she said sounded like a scolding, when she didn’t mean to. And James believed every word he uttered around Lily (unsupervised) was terrible or misconstructed. 

His body reacted oddly to that silence. He needed to say something, do something, other than just walk straight in that slow pace, so instead of following the boring old path he decided that he should skip along the logs that delimited the path from the woods. 

Lily looked at James as he balanced on each log precariously. “Don’t you ever do something normal?” she asked, genuinely curious, he never seemed to just follow a straight path or instructions, there was always a work around. Something that the other people would not do or think about. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, still walking, feeling his anxiety lower when he had to focus on balance.

Lily chuckled. He looked a bit childish, but in the best way, she didn’t remember the last time she played at anything like that. She had too many responsibilities and expectations in her to let go. 

“You never do what’s expected, if you go on a path instead of going through the designated area for walking you go on the sidelines. If a professor asks you for an assignment you always ask a million questions on the importance of said work, like you never do just what is expected of you, you are always too curious to just follow what has already been set up. It’s a bit unnerving.” She admitted, making James’ heart sink a little. “It is also refreshing.” she admitted finally, not really looking at him, she believed that even with the darkness of the night he would still see her blush.

James chuckled at her words, “Why don’t you try it?” he offered, “Who is to say that you are not supposed to walk on these if you want a less taciturn experience?” he continued, “There are a few things that can only be looked from one point of view, my parents taught me that, they always taught me to ask a lot of questions.” he admitted “Besides, if you don’t come up here, you wouldn’t notice there is a stream below that looks gorgeous under the dim moonlight.” 

Lily was surprised by that, it seemed great to ask a lot of questions when facing things that seemed a bit unfair and out of touch, but some things were too straight forward for you to be questioning them. However, at James’ mention of a different view she now was eager to see what was to look at things under his perspective. 

She climbed on the log as he did, looking at the creek below them, and as James said it was gorgeous, like something unperturbed by the humans that passed through that path every day. It made Lily wonder what else James saw that the rest of them did not. 

The walk got easier from them, at least in terms of conversation. It got easier to understand each other after that, setting aside past prejudices and trying to see things from each other’s perspective. 

Lily learned that James’ parents asked him as many questions as he asked everyone else, trying to have an open and interesting relationship with his son. James learned that Lily put a lot of other people’s expectations on her shoulder trying to be the perfect friend, sister and daughter, and understood a bit better why she always seemed to be so stern even when in reality she was funny and witty, and as curious as James.

They continued to chat amicably, conversation grew easily the more time it passed. James was glad for it, and Lily seemed to be relaxing a bit more now that there was nothing more than a walk. 

At some point Lily got distracted, she was not sure how he lost her footing, if it was a tricky log, slippery, or her body was too tired and she did not realise it. But all in all she knew she was falling to the creek and she could just hear herself scream and trying to hold on to something to stop it. 

“Lily!” James was heard yelling after her. And then she felt something warm and soft around her, making her fall soft as she rolled downhill. James had stopped it. 

“Are you okay?” Lily heard James ask, and she took account of her body. She was a bit sore, and she knew she would hurt more later on, but it all seemed okay at the moment. 

“Yes, I think so. Just a bit wet.” she admitted, as she knew they got to the creek by unconventional ways, all she wanted to do was get up and dry herself, get back to the path so they could get to see the comet. However, life had other plans.

As soon as Lily put weight on her foot, a searing pain went up her leg, making her scream at the top of her lungs and falling back down on her bum. 

James hurried to duck next to her and looked all over to see any injuries, “Where?” he was frantic as he saw the colour drained from Lily’s face. 

“Foot.” was all she could muster, as she breathed the pain away. Slowly managing to get the unbearable pain to a low throb.

“Okay, it’s going to be okay,” he moved his hand, a little wince as he pulled his wand and showed it was broken in half. “Fuck.” he muttered. Lily’s eyes went as wide as they could. 

“Oh no, James your wand, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He was panting as her, maybe he hit something as well, they took a pretty nasty fall, but he seemed okay in spite of not having his wand. “Maybe we can use yours? I know a few casting spells to keep that not moving until we get back.” he explained, but as Lily went to retrieve her wand she felt nothing in her pocket. 

“I think it might have fallen.” she said quietly, hating that she hadn’t learned yet how to accio it back, she had been trying but there was so much on her plate at the moment. 

“We can come back with light and try to find it. But first we need to get out of here.” He took off his backpack, wincing again, making Lily worry.

“Are you okay yourself?” Lily asked worriedly. 

“Brill, just sore.” he lied, but Lily did not have to know that on top of her nasty sprain, he had sprained his wrist as well. He could endure, he had had worse with Quidditch matches and Snape’s & Co. hexes. “You do know how to fall.” he tried teasing her worries away, instructing her to put the backpack herself. “You’ll carry it, I’ll carry you.” 

Instructions were easy enough, Lily just had to lay off her foot, and James was already turning around so Lily could climb onto his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Making Lily feel a bit embarrassed. 

“Isn’t it too heavy? You could go up and get someone.” she offered, worried that he was doing too much. 

“I won’t leave you here all alone in the middle of the night.” James was not taking no for an answer, he was just waiting for Lily to feel secure to start climbing the steep hill himself. 

Lily could hear the grunts from pain and effort coming out of James, she was not sure why he was going above and beyond for someone that he wasn’t as close with, even though she was grateful that he didn’t leave her in the middle of nowhere with a swollen ankle. 

It took longer than if he had gone alone to climb back to the path. They almost slipped back a couple of times but James managed to get them up safely. 

“We are closer to the viewing point than the hotel.” he explained as he sat Lily on one of the logs for a moment while his breath evened out. “We should wait there for the others, not sure if they’ll take this path or the one that goes around the beach.” he said, looking down the path hoping to see or hear something, but he didn’t.

When he turned around he could see Lily was still a little pale and shivering from the soreness and dampness of her clothes. “Here,” he said, offering his jacket.

The redhead looked at him and shook her head, “You’ll need it, the temperature is lowering.”

James chuckled, a bit uneven, “I’m carrying you around, I’m actually a bit hot.” he admitted looking her in the eyes, something he didn’t dare to do often. “Take the jacket, Evans, I’ll be warm enough I didn’t fall in the water.” 

Lily didn’t need too much persuasion, soon she was putting the jacket and getting the backpack on once more, before they parted towards the comet viewing place. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach a spot. It was exactly what was marked on the map the Professor gave them. 

James had prepared some blankets for them to sit on, he put one below them so they would not sit on the cold hard floor, and grabbed the second one to replace his jacket. Noticing Lily still shivering he sat behind her, allowing her back to be up to his chest. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, not putting too much of a fight, she was exhausted, in pain but she needed to admit that James’ warmer body behind hers felt nice. Even if the position was a little odd for two friends to be in. 

“Relax, we just have one blanket left, and your back is all wet. Don’t want you to catch a cold, but don’t want to catch my death either.” he mumbled behind her, reaching out for his bag, wincing a bit as he got a hold of it. 

“You got yourself hurt too, why didn’t you say anything?” she said holding his hand, examining his wrist, that looked swollen from a sprain and the effort to carry her. 

James blushed knowing exactly why he didn’t say anything, she would argue with him that they could both wait by the creek, but that would mean she would be colder and it would be almost impossible for them to be seen by the others. She would insist that they should both rest, or that he would go without her, and he would not have that. 

“I’m used to it, I get injured in Quidditch all the time. Don’t worry about it.”

“Of course I worry! I care about you, you bloody idiot, we could have come up with a different plan!” she could not believe he had been that careless, he could endanger his Quidditch career because of it. It wasn’t like they were in mortal peril, they could wait for morning, their grades were not that important, his well being was more important than that.

“You were going to suggest to leave you there, or to wait there while you get even wetter, colder and with less and less chance of us getting found by the group. And I was not going to risk you for a sprain that I’m sure Sirius will heal as soon as he gets here." There was no discussion to be had, she was not going to convince him to have left her behind, no amount of Quidditch and future prospects he had, a human life was more important. 

Lily tried to argue as she saw him taking a thermos out of the bag, she helped him with it since she knew he would be hurting even if he did not show it. “I still deserved to be told, I’m not a damsel in distress, I can think for myself, even come up with something other than staying behind. I don’t appreciate not having a say.” She opened the thermos and poured what seemed to be hot tea. 

James felt embarrassed, of course she should have had a say in all, but he was thinking on his feet more than dismissing her ideas. “Drink, it’ll do you good.” he added softly. 

“It’ll do you good as well, you must also be cold.” She gave him the cup and waited for him to drink to pour herself a cup. 

After they drank the tea they just stay there, next to each other, keeping the warmth of their bodies by proximity and hoping that sooner rather than later they would be found. 

After a while Lily murmured “Thanks,” back to James, “for not leaving me behind.” she added, for good measure, to which he replied “No need.”

Their bodies’ tiredness won over after they made themselves as comfortable as possible, and soon enough slumber took over, each other enjoying the safe company of the other. That is how the class found them: sound asleep, dirty, and hugging each other.

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

Sharp March

Entry Day 2: LEGACY

Aesop Sharp in "the Auror and the Devil" universe of my fics has with his wife, Morana, 2 daughters: Sidónia (adopted) and Selena (biological). Here's a very short story about Selena, that lives in my head rent free.

"Who's next?..." asked one of the OWL examiners, Gilbert Wimple, scanning the list... The others were already quite exhausted from the day's events and the several failed attempts by students trying to brew potions. Some were yawning, others staring blankly out the windows, dreaming of going home.

"Ah... Miss Sharp..."

The remaining examiners shifted with interest at the sight of a rather tall girl for her age, with dark hair tightly pinned into a bun and nearly black eyes glaring sharply from beneath thick eyebrows. She stepped up to the prepared station with a cauldron and waited for her assignment.

Her knees were shaking, her lips trembled from stress. She was afraid they'd give her something she wouldn't be able to brew—or worse, that she'd make a mistake. The examiners smiled in her direction.

"Ah yes, the daughter of Professor Aesop Sharp himself... well, well, we've heard from our colleagues that you're a rising star in the world of potion-making," said Gilbert Wimple, rocking back in his chair, an ironic smirk twisting his lips.

Selena Sharp noticed it immediately and swallowed hard, feeling that she was in trouble.

"Dad, I hope you never got on his bad side..." she thought, feeling sweat start to form on her brow.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should give the young lady something unconventional to create, something that goes beyond the standard curriculum... at least as a test. A little challenge—what do you say?"

The men nodded with interest, several pairs of eyes fixed on Selena. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin proudly, despite the fear twisting her thoughts into knots.

"Brew my invention- a hair growing potion!" Gilbert Wimple suddenly exclaimed. "I'll be fair and give you the recipe—but that's it, no clues, no tips. Let's see how you handle something completely new... You have one hour."

Selena clenched her jaw and furrowed her brows as a parchment with a long, convoluted text appeared at her station. She nervously rubbed her hands together before cautiously picking it up, scanning the ingredients...

Wolfsbane, angelica, a mermaid’s hair... Mix, strain, add elderberry...

Wait a minute—something wasn’t right.

She leaned over the table and began going over everything again. And again. A shiver of excitement coiled in her stomach.

"Are you certain this is the complete recipe?" she asked in a serious tone.

Wimple nodded, his smirk still firmly in place. The examiners exchanged glances, expecting the girl to give up and ask for something from the standard list of potions.

But Selena cleared her throat and summoned all her strength, something her mum has taught her, to declare:

"This potion doesn’t work."

The examiners' expressions darkened. Wimple paled.

Before anyone could say a word, the young woman flicked her wand, summoning a chalkboard. Swiftly, she began drawing formulas, explaining that the ingredients were incompatible and that no hair would grow from this mixture.

When she finished, leaving the room in complete silence, her thoughts moved ahead...

"But how about mixing... this..." she whispered, surrendering to the wave of inspiration.

She wiped the board clean and began writing again, exhilaration and excitement surging through her veins.

She was creating.

Potions were her paints, the cauldron her canvas, and she—the artist. The colors of the substances mixed in her mind, forming a harmony; she anticipated every step, knew the properties of every ingredient and their thousands of interactions.

She selected, recalled, arranged—her heart pounding in her chest.

Until everything came together into a complete whole.

The recipe on the board was ready. She quickly brewed the correct potion according to her new formula.

"This potion should work... It must be applied at least twice a week to maintain results, but over time, as the body adapts, usage can be reduced to once a month," she explained, trembling with excitement.

She grinned widely, revealing slightly crooked teeth, panting from effort, her eyes shining with joy as she demonstrated that a single drop spilled onto the table caused a tuft of golden curls to sprout.

It was only when she turned to face the examiners and saw their grave expressions—and the heavy silence—that her heart plummeted into her stomach.

Oh, she was in trouble. *

Selena had been crying for an hour, sitting on one of the stools lined up against the wall outside the closed exam room. Inside, her father—summoned after she had been thrown out—was speaking with the examiners.

"Why, why did you have to start improvising... Stupid," she muttered, smacking herself on the forehead.

At the sound of the door creaking open, she jumped as if burned.

"Shhh, it's just me..."

Aesop Sharp hobbled toward her, leaning on his cane, and sank down onto the stool beside her.

The girl flung herself into his arms, sobbing, apologizing over and over.

"Selena, it's okay, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize," he assured her in his velvet voice, holding her close.

Wiping the tears from her freckled face, he gently cupped her cheeks, gazing deep into her chocolate-brown eyes—exactly like his own.

"You did nothing wrong. Nothing! And I must say, I quite enjoyed watching you put that pompous fool in his place... I am so proud of you!"

"You are?" she cried, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Aesop had to wipe them away again.

He handed her an envelope sealed with the Ministry’s insignia.

Selena looked at it with fear.

"W-What is this? A punishment?"

"And if it were? What do you think you could do about it, hmm?" he asked, his gaze warm.

Selena thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose I could pay it off and retake my exams next year... It wouldn’t be the end of the world."

Aesop nodded approvingly and urged her to open it.

With trembling fingers, Selena broke the seal, quickly scanned the letter—and burst into tears once more, throwing herself into her father’s embrace.

"Th-They gave me a sch-scholarship!" she wailed, overwhelmed and started crying again.

Aesop, smiling with pride, stroked her hair, pressing light kisses to her head.

"Shame I wasn’t there to see it—Wimple’s face must have been... hmm... satisfying," he murmured. "Catching your first fraud during an exam—now that’s impressive... Mum will be delighted to hear all this..."

[kirstie-ella]

Shops to Script into Hogsmeade for your Hogwarts DR

Obviously the original shops in Hogsmeade don’t need to be scripted, they’ll already be there. I’ll mention the original shops at the bottom and start with the ones I scripted at the top!

Scripted Shops

I just made some of these names up based on the vibe I wanted for each store, you’re welcome to copy this to add to your own script, change whatever you want!

💚 CineMystic - A small, magical cinema that shows famous wizarding films, events and muggle films. Special ‘memory reels’ can be played where you can rent a cinema and relive your own memories on the big screen.

💚 Crystal Cove - A crystal shop with rare enchanted crystals and magical gemstones like star-infused amethysts or healing selenite wands. Some stones glow, hum, or change colors based on your mood or magical energy. Crystals feel and look more magical in the wizarding world than in the muggle world.

💚 Celestia’s Fine Jewels - A luxury jewelry shop selling rings, pendants, bracelets etc. They have a custom spellbinding service where you can imbue new jewellery with spells, e.g a ring that feels warm when someone is thinking of you or protection spells on a necklace. ‘Celestia’ is also h ust a witches name I made up!

💚 The Silver Talon – A nail salon offering enchanted manicures. They have colour-changing polish, claws that extend on command, shimmering ‘starlight’ nails, or protection spells embedded into the designs. Any design can be done!

💚 Luxe Loom – A luxury high-end boutique selling elegant robes, enchanted ballgowns, and high-fashion wizarding attire for formal occasions.

💚 Essence and Enchantment – A perfumery that sells magical scents, each infused with emotions or memories. You can create a special signature scent service where a persons aura determines their perfect fragrance

💚 Wander and Whimsy – A wizarding shoe store, selling boots that never scuff, heels that make no sound, and charmed shoes that stop your feet from getting sore after a lot of walking.

💚 The Charming Mane - A hairdressing salon that offers the latest hairstyles (Madame Snelling’s Tress Emporium was the salon in Hogwarts Legacy but there is no mention of one in the Harry Potter books so I’ve added a salon!).

Original Shops

I’ve pulled these from Hogwarts Legacy and the books/movies/wiki pages. Some of these are in Hogwarts legacy but not mentioned in the books/movies. HL is based in the 1800’s but a lot of the shops do remain, some don’t, some do, but with new names - I’ve got the new names for the shops but mentioned the old names too. I’ll have to do an updated list of the shops once I’ve shifted to my Hogwarts DR and have fully explored Hogsmeade! Feel free to correct anything I may have got wrong.

💚 Honeydukes - Legendary sweet shop, famous for its selection of magical candies (Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizzbees, Acid Pops, etc.). It has a secret tunnel through the cellar leading to Hogwarts in Hogwarts Legacy that you could script in, otherwise the secret passage mentioned in the books is just from Honeydukes cellar leading to the back of the Three Broomsticks.

💚 Zonko’s Joke Shop - Popular for prank items like Dungbombs and Nose-Biting Teacups. Closed in later years so you’d have to script this in, but Fred and George essentially reopen this shop under the name Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes later anyways.

💚 Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop - Sells quills, ink, and parchment. A must-have if you want fancy writing supplies.

💚 Olivanders - A branch of the renowned wand shop owned and operated by the Olivander wand making family since 323 B.C.

💚 Gladrags Wizardwear - A clothing shop known for quirky wizarding fashion.

💚 Spintwitches Sporting Needs – The Quidditch supply shop, sells brooms and gear.

💚 J. Pippin’s Potions – An apothecary that carries a wide selection of pre-made potions and potion ingredients.

💚 Dogweed and Deathcap (called ‘The Magic Neep’ in Hogwarts Legacy) – A shop specializing in magical plants and herbs run by Mrs. Longbottom, Neville’s grandmother.

💚 Dominic Maestro’s Music Shop - A shop that sells magical musical instruments. This was only in Hogwarts Legacy and there is no mention of any music/instrument shop in the films/books so you’ll have to script this one in if you want it in your DR! Either that, or script Dervish and Banges also sells and repairs musical instruments.

💚 Dervish and Banges – Sells and repairs magical equipment.

💚 Flourish and Blotts (Tomes and Scrolls in Hogwarts Legacy) - A specialty bookshop with wares that fulfil the promise of its name. This is actually only in Diagon Alley but I highly recommend scripting it into Hogsmeade too!

💚 Magical Menagerie (Brood and Peck in Hogwarts Legacy) - Beast supply shop stocked with the latest and greatest in beast byproducts as well as magical creatures and pet-related items. This is actually only in Diagon Alley in the books so you’d need to script it in to Hogsmeade as a second branch shop, or leave it for only Diagon Alley - up to you!

💚 The Three Broomsticks - A well-known pub famous for Butterbeer.

💚 Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop - A cozy, romantic café selling tea, coffee, pastries and other sweet treats. Known as a popular date spot for Hogwarts students.

💚 The Hog’s Head - A pub run by Aberforth Dumbledore. It’s not the cleanest, but it’s good for secret meetings.

💚 Shrieking Shack – Technically abandoned, but it has a creepy reputation and history.

💚 Hogsmeade Station – Where the Hogwarts Express arrives.

💚 Hogwarts Owlery (Post Office) - Located just by Hogwarts Castle, so not in Hogsmeade but still important! this is where students and staff send their letters through the large number of owls that reside there.

[the-opposite-and-the-mirror]

The Firsts - The Opposite and The Mirror prequel

Okay, so rewriting a movie didn't work out because none of my ideas seemed to fit. I had the idea to rewrite Huntsman Winter's War based off gif sets and clips I saw, but when I started watching the movie itself it was clear that it wasn't going to work. So I just started writing...and then I realized if I wanted to include EVERYTHING about The Firsts then it'd end up being a novel which I honestly didn't want to do for this. So! Here's what I ended up writing for The Firsts. It's below the cut, hope you enjoy it!

Centuries before Nyah Fairwood Bane was born, a significant event unfolded—the creation of the first Ablation, a being forged from Angel blood to aid the Shadowhunters in their mission to eradicate Demons from Earth. Unfortunately, the first Ablation did not go as planned and they Spiraled into a Shadow. 

Determined to rectify the failure of the first Ablation, the Clave ordered the same Warlock to create another. This second Ablation eventually formed deep bonds with others. Through these connections, he chose and was chosen to have an Anchor and a Parabatai, who supported him as he navigated his existence and ultimately ascended to become a Gemini. 

These are excerpts from the history of The Firsts…

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

Caspian Shieldwinds was deeply engrossed in his work, nestled in his secluded hut in the heart of the forest. His surroundings were a clutter of ancient scrolls, bubbling potions, and mysterious artifacts. The only sound was the scratch of his quill on parchment until a sudden hiss from his black cat with icy blue eyes broke the silence. 

"I am aware, my feline friend," Caspian said to the cat, his eyes never leaving the parchments before him. "We have a visitor." 

"Lower your Wards, Shieldwinds! I need to discuss something with you!" a gruff male voice bellowed from outside, shattering the tranquility. 

Caspian recognized the voice immediately. With a flamboyant flick of his hand, he lowered the magical barriers surrounding his hut. "You may enter," he called out. 

The creaky wooden door swung open, revealing Augustus Nightweaver with his ten year old, sickly-looking son Elijah in tow. Caspian set his parchments aside and gently stroked his feline companion, who stood protectively on the desk. "To what do I owe this meeting?" he inquired, curiosity piqued. 

Augustus, standing straighter, approached and handed a small bottle over to him. "An Angel visited me last night and gave me their blood. They need you to create an Angel that can live in this Realm." 

Caspian reached out to take the bottle, then quickly recoiled, laughter bubbling up incredulously. "What did you just say to me?" he asked, standing. "You claim that an Angel visited you to request a being be created from their blood, with the powers of an Angel?" 

Augustus nodded affirmatively. "Yes. They see our struggles against the Demons and want to level the battlefield." He set the bottle in front of Caspian. "You are the only Creator I trust with this. Will you do it?"

Caspian picked up the bottle, examining it briefly before setting it safely in a small coffer near the window. "What do I get in return?" he asked, turning to face Augustus. "We may be allied, but my magic comes with a price."

At that moment, Augustus pushed Elijah forward. "Elijah will be placed in your custody to raise as your own. He is too weak to be a Shadowhunter."

Caspian couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked at the frail child, who avoided his gaze and stared at the floor. Caspian then looked back to Augustus. "You wish to give me your first-born son as payment for this request?" When Augustus nodded again, Caspian thought for a moment. "It is a deal. Come along, Elijah, you can help me gather some ingredients." He held out his hand, and when Elijah meekly took it, Caspian said to himself as they left the hut with the feline in tow, "I do hope stories are not told about this form of payment one day."

As they ventured into the forest, the evening sun cast long shadows, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and earth. Caspian glanced down at Elijah, who still looked apprehensive but curious. "Do not worry, young one," he said gently. "You are safe with me."

Elijah nodded slightly, his grip on Caspian's hand tightening as they walked deeper into the woods, the promise of a legendary future unfolding with each step they took.

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

Creating such an elaborate spell as the one the Clave wanted took time. Not only was time needed to create the spell but to find the rare ingredients that would hold the attributes needed. Being a Creator Warlock, Caspian could envision what was needed in order to create his intentions. The incantations would filter into his mind like music, and his conjuration of magic like a dance when it all came together like a masterpiece. And masterpieces took time.

Elijah sat by the small window of the humble hut, his eyes fixed on the sprawling forest beyond. It was a quiet evening, with the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. The scent of herbs and potions filled the air, a constant reminder of the world he had been brought into. He watched as Caspian, his guardian and mentor, moved gracefully around the makeshift workbench, gathering ingredients and muttering incantations under his breath.

It had taken nearly a year before Elijah found the courage to speak to Caspian. He remembered the day vividly—an overcast afternoon when he had finally asked why Caspian had accepted him as payment. The memory of Caspian's warm smile and the simple yet genuine explanation had stayed with him. If Elijah's father had been willing to trade him away, Caspian had reasoned, then he could surely offer the boy a better life. That was the first time Elijah had smiled in what felt like an eternity.

Elijah had been weak and sickly when Caspian took him in. The days that followed were filled with herbal treatments, exercises, and perhaps a touch of magic. Slowly, he grew stronger, his once frail body gaining muscle and stamina. He might not have been trained as a Shadowhunter, but he could hold his own in a scuffle with his peers. His mind, sharp and analytical, absorbed information like a sponge. He memorized every ingredient in Caspian's repertoire and their uses, becoming adept at creating tonics and remedies without the need for magic.

Six years had passed since that day, and now Elijah stood on the brink of a new chapter. Caspian had announced that the Creation spell—the Ablation spell, as he called it—was ready. Elijah watched with a mix of anticipation and worry as Caspian gathered parchments and rare ingredients into a worn leather satchel.

The air inside the hut was tense with unspoken fears and concerns. Elijah sat at the wooden table, his mind racing with thoughts of what could go wrong. He couldn't shake the worry that had been building up inside him.

“Father, what if it doesn’t work as you plan? The Clave will be angry that you used the Angel’s blood with no way of getting more.” Elijah's voice trembled as he finally voiced his concerns.

Caspian paused, placing the satchel down and resting a reassuring hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “I am a Creator, son. My spells never fail.” Despite his confident words, he could see the worry etched in Elijah’s eyes. “Tell me how I can ease your worries, Elijah.”

Elijah thought for a moment before dashing to the table where a knife lay. Before Caspian could stop him, he sliced his palm and let the blood flow into a bowl beneath his clenched hand. The sight of Elijah's blood sent fear coursing through him.

“What are you doing?!” Caspian's voice was tinged with panic as he quickly took the knife from Elijah's hand and used his magic to heal the wound. “What are you thinking?!” His tone was a mix of reprimand and worry.

“Use my blood first,” Elijah answered, holding the bowl up to Caspian. “That way, if it doesn’t work, then you didn’t waste the Angel’s blood. If it does work, then we will have another member of our family.”

Caspian’s mouth went agape. Rarely in his life had he been rendered speechless, but this was one of those times. When he finally regained his composure, he took the bowl from Elijah and set it gently on the table. “I cannot do that. If the Clave finds out I experimented before creating their Ablation, then…”

“Don’t tell them,” Elijah said with a simplicity that belied the gravity of the situation. “Don’t tell anyone.” He paused for a moment, his eyes earnest. “You asked how you could ease my worries, father. This is how.”

Caspian had a very, very, very bad feeling about this, but he didn’t want his son to be fearful. He would do as he was asked and find a way to deal with the consequences. Besides, the spell accounted for the Angel’s blood, so using Elijah’s could very likely mean it wouldn’t work. “Alright,” Caspian finally said, placing a gentle hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “We leave for Lake Lyn at dusk.”

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

After exiting the Portal on the shores of Lake Lyn, Caspian instructed Elijah to stay further back, just in case. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the still waters of the lake, illuminating the ancient trees surrounding them. The air was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves.

Caspian carefully poured Elijah’s blood into the water, along with the other rare ingredients. The mixture began to shimmer, casting a faint glow on the lake's surface. He then began to chant in an ancient language—one Elijah had never heard before but somehow understood every word. Caspian's hands moved gracefully, weaving his magic over the water before thrusting it out over the lake. The incantation echoed through the night, creating an aura of mystique around them.

The water glowed as the ball of swirling magic descended beneath the surface, then… nothing. Caspian had anticipated this outcome; without the Angel’s blood, the spell wouldn't work. He frowned, his eyes searching the water for any sign of change.

“So, it doesn’t work,” Elijah said, moving to stand beside Caspian and crossing his arms. His voice was tinged with disappointment. “Just like I was worried it wouldn’t.”

“It likely does not work because I used your blood instead of the Angel’s,” Caspian countered, his gaze fixed on the tranquil lake. He sighed and turned to Elijah, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Come, my son, let us go home.” Just as he was about to lead Elijah away, the lake began to bubble violently. A bright light shot out from the center of the lake towards the shore, and moments later, a girl, appearing about sixteen years old, burst forth from the water with a gasp.

Caspian quickly removed his cloak and wrapped it around the girl, who was coughing and struggling to catch her breath. To ensure she hadn’t ingested any harmful water, he cast a healing spell upon her. “Are you alright, young one?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

The girl, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Elijah, looked up at Caspian with wide, inquisitive eyes. Her wet hair clung to her face, and her clothes were drenched. “Are you Caspian?” she asked meekly, aware of his name but not his face.

Caspian brushed the wet hair from her face and nodded. “Yes, young one, I am.”

Without warning, the girl threw her arms around him and cried out, “Father!” Her voice was filled with both relief and joy.

Caspian embraced the girl tightly, his heart swelling with emotion. He glanced over his shoulder at Elijah, who stood there, stunned. The boy's eyes were wide with shock and wonder. “It’s time to take you and your brother home, my daughter,” Caspian said softly, guiding them both back towards the Portal he had conjured to take them back to their hut.

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

Over the few days that had passed since casting the spell at Lake Lyn, Caspian learned much about his little Ablation daughter. She shared the same knowledge as Elijah and was mentally and physically identical to him in age, but she had no memories of her own. The knowledge was there, but it was not attached to any personal experiences. She had also chosen her own name—Eliana. Caspian instantly loved her as much as he did Elijah, but he knew that if he did not handle things properly, it would not end well for any of them.

Finally, one evening as the fire crackled in the hearth, Caspian sat down at the wooden table and looked at his feline friend across from him. The black cat with icy blue eyes regarded him curiously. “I need your help, old friend,” Caspian said in a hushed voice, ensuring that Elijah and Eliana, who were asleep in the sleeping quarters, would not hear. “Eliana cannot be a Shadowhunter. Her true nature will be discovered. Please, Katarina, I need you to…make her something else.”

Smoke swirled around the black feline, and as it dissipated, it revealed a woman with raven black hair and icy blue cat eyes shrouded in a black cloak sitting on the table where the cat once sat. The transformation was seamless, and Katarina now gazed at him with an enigmatic smile. “And what will you give me in return, I wonder?” she asked, her voice smooth and teasing.

Caspian had anticipated this. Katarina had always emphasized the importance of never using their magic for free. “What do you desire?” He was afraid to ask the question, but Katarina was the only Warlock he knew with the power he needed. Not even his Creation abilities could craft a spell for this.

Katarina softly drummed her fingers on the table as she leaned back with an impish smile. “You know what I want, Caspian, dear.”

Caspian’s face hardened. “I will not give it to you.”

Katarina shrugged nonchalantly. “I suppose your daughter doesn’t mean as much as you claim.” She began to transform back into her feline form but stopped when Caspian stood up abruptly. She watched as he walked over to a blank wall, removed a glamour to reveal a set of hidden shelves, retrieved a small box, and then replaced the glamour. He returned to the table and slid the box over to her.

Katarina picked up the box, opened it, and admired the amulet within. The gem sparkled with an inner light, casting a faint glow on her face. “My, my, you are truly serious, old friend. I never thought you would part with this.”

Caspian didn’t respond to her comment. “Do we have a deal?” he asked, his voice steady, though his heart ached at parting with the precious amulet.

Katarina slipped the box into her cloak. “Yes.” With her other hand, she pulled out a small pouch and handed it to him. “This charm contains the magic of a troublesome little Warlock who crossed me the wrong way one too many times in the past. As long as your daughter wears this, she will have a Warlock Mark and will be able to use magic as a Warlock would. Be sure she never loses this and never takes it off. Do not worry about it accidentally falling off – once it is in place, she will be the only one who can remove it.”

Caspian accepted the pouch from her. “Why do you not put the magic directly into her? This method is risky for her, is it not?”

“I can see her aura, old friend. Your daughter has magic of her own; she just cannot access it yet. You know there is a balance in all Creation magic. Be careful with her and any others you may create.” With that, smoke swirled around her once more, and she returned to her feline form.

Caspian looked at the charm in his hand before glancing over at Eliana, who slept peacefully nearby. “This is for the best,” he whispered to himself. “It has to be done.”

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

The next morning, as the first light of dawn filtered through the small windows of the hut, Caspian gently woke Eliana. She blinked sleepily up at him, her eyes filled with trust and curiosity. He handed her the charm, explaining its importance and the need for her to wear it always. Eliana nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his words.

Elijah watched from the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and protectiveness. Caspian knew this was a necessary step to ensure Eliana's safety and their family's future. As Eliana placed the charm around her neck, a faint glow enveloped her. The Warlock Mark appeared—red scales spread out across the outline of her forehead, and her hair turned a purplish-blue hue.

“Remember, Eliana, you must never remove this charm,” Caspian said, his voice gentle but firm. “It will protect you and allow you to harness your magic.”

Eliana nodded again, her eyes wide with determination. “I understand, Father.”

Caspian smiled, a sense of relief washing over him. He looked at Elijah, who stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Eliana's shoulder. “We’re in this together,” he said softly. “We’ll always protect each other.”

Caspian looked at his children proudly before announcing, “It’s time.”

Elijah instantly knew what that meant. “You are going to create the Angel’s Ablation?”

Caspian nodded in confirmation. “I cannot put it off any longer.” He moved to retrieve the Angel blood from its hiding place and the other ingredients he needed.

Elijah's worry was evident in his voice. “Will he be there?”

Caspian paused when Elijah asked that. This was the first time Elijah had mentioned Augustus in years. “I do not know if Augustus will be there.” He turned to face both his children. “You do not need to come.”

Elijah thought for a moment before speaking with quiet resolve. “No, it’s alright. I’ll come.”

“Me, too,” Eliana smiled. “I want to meet the new Ablation.”

“You can’t tell anyone the truth of what you are, Eliana. Not even to the new Ablation. As far as anyone is concerned, the Ablation I create today is the only one in existence. Understood?” Caspian’s tone was serious, the gravity of the situation clear.

“Understood,” the children answered together, and Caspian truly hoped that they did understand.

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

Caspian had previously sent word to the Clave, informing them of the precise time and date he would be traveling to Lake Lyn to perform the Angel Ablation ritual. In his message, he included information that he deemed safe to share, providing the Clave with an outline of what to expect. However, he carefully omitted any details that might raise suspicions about his knowledge beyond the confines of creating the spell.

When Caspian, accompanied by Elijah and Eliana, exited the Portal and stepped onto the shores of Lake Lyn, he was met by Augustus and a few other Shadowhunters who were already waiting. Caspian cast a glance at Elijah to gauge his reaction, but Elijah was busy whispering to Eliana, seemingly identifying the individuals present – particularly Augustus.

Caspian's attention shifted from his children as Augustus approached them with a stern expression. "You are late, Shieldwinds," Augustus accused, his gaze flickering to Caspian's young companions. "Didn't feel the need to bring my son with you?"

Caspian addressed Augustus calmly, "I arrived exactly as I said I would." He turned to Elijah briefly before looking back at Augustus, shaking his head. "Your son? If Elijah were still your son, you would recognize him, Augustus."

Augustus stared in disbelief. "Impossible?" He pointed at the boy, his voice holding an incredulous and shocked tone, "That is Elijah? By the Angel..."

Caspian looked back at Elijah and Eliana, his expression softening. "Be sure to stay away from the shore, my children. The Ablation will likely be disoriented, and I do not wish to overwhelm them."

Elijah and Eliana both glared daggers at Augustus before complying with their father's instructions, moving away from the shore. Caspian couldn't help but smirk when he heard Eliana mutter something about wanting to turn Augustus into a toad.

"You all take a few steps back as well," Caspian directed the other Shadowhunters. Once they complied, he began the ritual, performing the same spell he had used to create Eliana. He poured the blood and rare ingredients into the water, chanted the enchantment in an unknown language, and conjured the magic, shooting it over the lake. Just as with Eliana's creation, the magic lowered into the water, glowed for a moment, then nothing happened.

Augustus was not amused. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Patience, Shadowhunter," Caspian replied. A few moments later, just as with Eliana's creation, the lake began to bubble. A ball of light ignited in the center of the lake and shot toward the shore. A young woman, appearing to be in her late twenties or early thirties, emerged from the light and landed on the shore with a deep gasp.

Elijah quickly retrieved the cloak he had brought for the Ablation and wrapped it around her as Caspian cast a healing spell to ensure she hadn't ingested any of the lake's water.

"Where am I?" the woman gasped, looking around in confusion. She turned her gaze to Elijah, who had given her the cloak. "Who are you?"

Before anyone could answer, Augustus and the other Shadowhunters approached. "Well done, Warlock," Augustus said to Caspian. "Your work here is done." He gestured for two Shadowhunters to seize the woman.

"What is happening? Where are the Angels? Where is my family?" the woman cried out in fear and confusion. When the Shadowhunters tried to grab her, she recoiled, "Don't touch me!"

"Leave her alone!" Elijah shouted, pushing one of the Shadowhunters away and standing protectively in front of the woman. "Don't treat her like this!"

"Move, boy," Augustus said firmly. "That creature is nothing more than a weapon to be used at our disposal."

"She’s not a creature!" Eliana shouted as she joined Elijah in front of the woman. "She is an Ablation made from Angel blood. That makes her an Angel. How dare you speak to her in such a way!"

Caspian stepped between his children and the Shadowhunters, trying to de-escalate the situation. "Augustus, I included in my message that you needed to tread lightly with the Ablation. You cannot be harsh or expect too much too quickly. There is still much we do not know..."

"Silence!" Augustus shouted, cutting Caspian off. "I already told you that your work here is done. Now get out of my way and take your so-called children with you unless you want me to report to the Clave that you and your kind tried to start a war over a creature that was already paid for."

Caspian glanced back at the woman, who was standing behind Eliana and Elijah, looking terrified and confused. His heart ached for her. "Just allow me to explain things to her. Please."

Augustus scoffed. "You have three minutes." He waved his hand dismissively.

Elijah quickly spoke to Caspian as he joined them. "Father, you cannot let them take her. They won’t understand her."

"I don’t have a choice, son," Caspian said regretfully. He turned his attention to the woman. "I am Caspian, and these are my children, Elijah and Eliana. You are an Ablation created from Angel blood to help the Shadowhunters fight the Demons on earth. They will treat you as a weapon, but you are an Angelic being, a person." He paused, letting the information sink in. "Do you have any knowledge of what I am talking about?"

The woman nodded, sharing the knowledge of the Angel the blood was taken from. "I do not like this. I want to be with the Angels."

"You can’t," Caspian said, his voice filled with sorrow. "I am truly sorry." He knew time was running short. "What is your name?"

The woman thought for a moment, then said, "I don’t know. What should it be?"

"You get to decide," Eliana said with a smile, wishing the Shadowhunters weren’t going to take her away.

The woman considered it and then said, "Beyla. My name is Beyla."

Caspian smiled. "It is good to meet you, Beyla." He took her hands and squeezed them gently. "Do not forget who you are. No matter what they try to make you become, do not forget who you are."

"Time's up!" Augustus shouted, approaching them.

Beyla pulled the cloak tighter around her. "I don’t want to go."

Elijah placed a reassuring hand on Beyla’s arm. "I will go with you."

"What?" Caspian gasped. "No, my son. I won’t allow it."

"I won’t allow them to destroy her," Elijah countered, looking firmly at Augustus. "I am going with Beyla."

Augustus scoffed, “I do not care. Let’s move out!”

Eliana didn’t want her brother to go. "Elijah..."

Elijah looked at his sister and said, "Stay with father. I will be fine and will see you as soon as I can." He hugged Eliana and Caspian. "I love you both."

"Goodbye," Beyla said softly before walking off with Elijah and the Shadowhunters.

Once they were out of earshot, Eliana said, "Father... I think I have to obey Elijah."

Caspian looked at his daughter with concern. "What do you mean?"

"I want to chase after him, but I can’t. He told me to stay with you, and I feel like I have to." Eliana looked up at Caspian with worry. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Caspian hugged his daughter tightly as he watched the group disappear. "As do I, my young one. As do I."

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

One Year Later

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the courtyard where Beyla circled Elijah, their eyes locked in concentration. They had drawn quite a crowd of Shadowhunters, all eager to witness their sparring match. In the year since Elijah and Beyla had been taken away by Augustus, both had grown and evolved remarkably. Elijah had become stronger and more skilled, his body now bearing several Runes that enhanced his abilities. Beyla, on the other hand, had come to terms with the fact that she might never enter the Heavenly Realm to be with the Angels. Yet, she found solace in her new family – Elijah, who had become her everything.

“You must pay close attention to your opponent,” Elijah called out to the spectators, his Seraph Daggers gleaming in the sunlight. “Even if they are more powerful than you, or stronger or faster, you can still find an opportunity to strike and gain the upper hand.”

Beyla smirked at Elijah’s determination. “If you say so,” she teased, then charged at him with her Blade. The air crackled with energy as their Blades clashed, the sound echoing around them. True to his words, Elijah found an opening. With a swift move, he tripped Beyla and brought his Daggers to her throat. “I say so,” he smirked before stepping back and helping her to her feet.

Their moment of camaraderie was abruptly interrupted. “What is the meaning of this foolishness?” Augustus’s voice boomed as the group quickly dispersed. “You are supposed to be hunting, not playing games!”

“We were doing a demonstration,” Beyla countered with defiance in her eyes. “It was going quite well until you barged in without an invitation.”

“Watch your tone, Ablation,” Augustus said firmly. “There has been Demon activity in the north. Take your pick of Shadowhunters and deal with it.”

“Yes, sir,” Beyla replied with sarcasm, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. She turned to Elijah and spotted Marcel Baywing, the only other Shadowhunter who hadn’t fled at Augustus’s arrival. “Want to hunt a Demon with us, Baywing?”

“It would be an honor,” Marcel replied, casting a disdainful look at Augustus before joining them.

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

As they approached the location of the Demon attack, the sounds of battle grew louder. They saw spells and streams of red magic being hurled at a towering, scaled Demon with large horns and talons. The magic was unmistakably Caspian’s and Eliana’s.

“Well I’ll be,” Beyla smiled at Elijah. “Let’s give your family a bit of assistance, shall we?”

Elijah twirled his Daggers with a grin and charged alongside Beyla and Marcel. With the combined strength of the five warriors, the Demon stood no chance and was swiftly defeated. With the battle won, Elijah turned to Caspian and Eliana, his grin broadening. “Did you miss me?” he asked playfully.

“Elijah!” Eliana gasped, throwing her arms around her brother in a tight hug. “Oh, I have missed you so. Fire messages are not enough.”

After Eliana stepped back, Caspian pulled Elijah into a warm embrace. “I have missed you, my son.” He looked at Elijah with pride shining in his eyes. “You have embraced the Shadowhunter ways, I see.”

“I doubt I would have been able to make it without him,” Beyla smiled at Elijah before gesturing to Marcel. “This is Marcel Baywing. Marcel, this is Caspian Shieldwinds and his daughter Eliana.”

“It is an honor to meet you both. Elijah has spoken of you often.” Marcel bowed his head in respect.

Caspian and Eliana returned the gesture before Caspian spoke. “As much as I would love to continue this reunion, I must inform you that there are more Demons further in the woods. I am uncertain as to what is attracting them, but they are there.”

“Well then,” Beyla smirked, her eyes glinting with determination. “Let’s go hunting.”

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

After the group had successfully dealt with the other, thankfully smaller, Demons, Eliana's keen eyes caught sight of something unusual burned into the ground of the forest. She moved aside some fallen leaves and revealed a strange symbol etched into the earth. "Father!" she called out urgently to Caspian. "These Demons were summoned here."

"What?" Caspian and the others quickly gathered around her to take a closer look. When Caspian confirmed that Eliana was right, he swiftly cast a spell over the symbol, dispersing its magic so no other Demons could come through. "I do not understand. Who would summon them?" Caspian pondered aloud as he circled the now dispelled symbol, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Has there been other activity like this recently?" Eliana asked, looking at Elijah and the others for any clues.

"No," Elijah replied, shaking his head. Beyla added, "Demonic activity has been quieter over the past few months, and this was the first hunt in weeks."

“Do you recognize the magic?” Marcel asked Beyla, gesturing to the symbol. He figured with her Angelic knowledge, she might have some insight.

“No, I don’t,” Beyla answered honestly, her brows furrowing in concentration. “I have no knowledge of this spell nor any memory of it.” After a moment of contemplation, she suggested with a hint of sarcasm and disdain, “We should get back and ask our dear Augustus if anything has been kept from us.”

“Agreed,” Elijah concurred, then turned to embrace his father and sister. “I will see you both soon. I love you both.”

Caspian and Eliana returned the hug, expressing their love in turn. Caspian then conjured a Portal for them. “This will shorten the length of your journey back. Be safe – all of you.”

Caspian and Eliana watched as Elijah, Beyla, and Marcel disappeared through the Portal. Once it snapped shut, Caspian turned to Eliana and conjured another Portal to take them home. “We must prepare, Eliana,” he said with a grave expression.

Eliana, sensing the tension in her father’s voice, asked, “For what, father?”

Caspian’s gaze was distant, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He replied solemnly, “The worst.”

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

As Beyla, Elijah, and Marcel emerged from the portal into the open field, an oppressive stillness greeted them. The air felt thick with anticipation, a subtle crackling of magic interwoven with a tangible sense of danger. Beyla's eyes darted around the misty expanse, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands instinctively tightened on her weapon. “Stay alert,” she hissed, her voice barely more than a breath. “Something is coming.”

Elijah and Marcel stood poised, weapons ready, their expressions mirroring Beyla's unease. Suddenly, a swirling vortex of energy materialized before them, and from it stepped the Warlock Katarina. The portal shimmered ominously behind her, casting an eerie light on her figure. She looked at Elijah with a sweet yet sinister smile. “My my,” she purred, her voice dripping with malevolent charm. “You certainly have grown up.”

Elijah’s eyes widened in shock. “Katarina?” He had only seen her true form a few times, her feline guise more familiar. “What are you doing here?”

Katarina spread her arms wide, her smile deepening. “A little birdie told me a story long ago. I'm simply here to ensure it unfolds as it should. Since you’ve vanquished my other companions, let’s see how you fare against this one…” She stepped aside, and a monstrous demon lumbered out of the portal. Its skin resembled hardened lava, and its talons were like obsidian blades. “Ta ta,” she sang, stepping back into the portal, which sealed with a malevolent snap.

The demon's roar was deafening, its molten mouth glowing fiercely. It lunged toward them, its talons dragging across the ground, tearing apart the earth beneath them. Beyla and Marcel leaped to one side while Elijah darted to the other, his agility rune glowing. He activated his blade, its edge shimmering with Angelic power, and charged at the beast.

Beyla and Marcel followed suit, their weapons flashing. They danced around the demon, dodging its massive swipes and landing strikes wherever they could. The demon roared with each hit, its fury growing.

“We need to find the weak spot!” Beyla shouted, sliding under the demon and slashing its legs.

The demon howled, pivoting to strike her down, but Elijah distracted it with a powerful attack. Its claws lashed out, raking across his chest. Marcel tried to intervene but was thrown aside, unconscious.

“No!” Beyla screamed, rushing to Elijah’s side as the demon turned its attention to the prone Marcel. “Elijah!” She activated his healing rune, but the injuries were too severe. “Hold on, Elijah. You’ll be alright.”

Elijah's breath hitched, blood bubbling from his lips. He grasped Beyla’s hands, his eyes locking onto hers. “De…decide who you are. Don’t…don’t forget…” His voice faded as the light in his eyes dimmed.

“NO!” Beyla's cry was one of pure agony. “Elijah!” The turmoil inside her resolved into a single, unyielding purpose. She stood, her eyes turning pitch black, her light brown hair bleaching white. Shadows coiled around her, responding to her fury. With a primal scream, she charged the demon, her speed unmatched.

Beyla vaulted over the demon, her hands conjuring spears of shadow. She hurled them into its head, the impact staggering the creature. She landed gracefully before Marcel's unconscious form, shadows swirling protectively around them.

The demon swiped at her, but she dissolved into shadows, reappearing atop its shoulders. With a blade of pure shadow, she stabbed its neck repeatedly, dark energy consuming the beast until it exploded in a burst of dark energy.

Marcel groaned, regaining consciousness just in time to witness the explosion. He looked at Beyla—her transformed appearance bewildering him. “Who are you?” he croaked, needing to be sure.

Beyla turned to him, tears in her obsidian eyes. “I am Beyla Nightweaver – the Angel of Shadows.”

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

Beyla refused to return to the Shadowhunter stronghold. Cradling Elijah’s lifeless body, she felt the weight of his loss with every step she took. She turned to Marcel, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “Go back to the stronghold without me,” she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. She then sent a fire message to Caspian, summoning him to a familiar clearing in the forest.

When Caspian and Eliana arrived, their grief was palpable. Caspian’s face crumpled as he saw Elijah's lifeless form, a heart-wrenching cry escaping his lips. Eliana stood frozen, her Warlock charm unable to protect her from the raw, agonizing reality. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her body trembling. Despite her magical defenses, the intensity of her sorrow was overwhelming, and like Beyla, she felt the pull of the Shadow Ablation consuming her.

Beyla fell to her knees before them, her hands shaking as she gently laid Elijah’s body at their feet. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice choked with guilt and anguish. She looked up at them, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I couldn’t save him. I promise you, I will eradicate every last demon. I swear it.”

Caspian’s fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with tears and fury. He wanted to speak, to comfort her, but the words stuck in his throat. Eliana, despite her own heartbreak, reached out a trembling hand towards Beyla but couldn't bring herself to touch her.

Beyla’s resolve hardened as she saw the depth of their sorrow. She knew she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t bear to see the pain in their eyes and feel the weight of her failure every day. With one last, heart-wrenching glance at her friends, she turned and walked away, the shadows trailing behind her as she disappeared into the forest.

Caspian and Eliana were left alone, clutching Elijah’s body and each other, their sobs echoing in the silent clearing. Neither of them noticed the subtle changes in Eliana’s aura, the shadows that seemed to cling to her more tightly as grief transformed her.

Unbeknownst to Beyla, after Marcel reported what had happened, the Shadowhunters devised a plan. They would combine her with the very demons she vowed to destroy, a cruel twist of fate that would shape her destiny and many others in ways she could never have imagined.

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

After the Clave deemed Beyla a failed experiment, they demanded Caspian create another, this time with a crucial difference – the new subject had to be young, impressionable, and malleable. Their plan was to mold this new creation into the ultimate weapon they needed. Caspian vehemently refused, his defiance evident in his every word. But when the Clave threatened Eliana, his heart sank, and he knew he had no choice but to comply. The first time, they had offered payment for his spell, but now they wielded the threat to the only family he had left – the last connection to Elijah he would ever have in the world.

Caspian had already lost his son; he couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter as well.

With a heavy heart, Caspian set to work. He poured over ancient texts and incantations, his hands shaking as he altered the spell. He manipulated the magic so that the new Ablation would be created as an infant. The ritual was grueling, taking every ounce of his will and skill. When it was done, the new Ablation, a tiny, vulnerable baby, emerged from Lake Lyn.

The Clave wasted no time. The infant Ablation was handed over to a Shadowhunter family, tasked with raising the child to eventually defeat Beyla, who had now been branded as evil. Caspian watched, broken and despondent, as they took the child away. The weight of his actions crushed him. He gathered Eliana in his arms, her small frame shaking with fear, and they fled. They found refuge in a remote, hidden place, far from the reach of the Clave and the dark future they had set in motion.

In the days that followed, Caspian dedicated himself to one purpose – keeping Eliana safe. He was determined to protect her from the horrors of their past. Every night, he sat by the fire, haunted by memories of Elijah and the uncertain fate of the infant Ablation. The guilt gnawed at him, but he knew he couldn't face what the future held. He wanted no part in the Clave's twisted plans or the inevitable clash between Beyla and the child he had helped create.

Little did he know, fate had other plans. As the years passed, the Shadowhunters raised the new Ablation, shaping and training the child to fulfill the Clave's designs. Meanwhile, Beyla grew stronger in her power, ready to take on whatever threats would come her way.

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

Caspian had spent years living a secluded life, his days filled with routine tasks and the constant vigilance required to keep Eliana safe. His hands were steady as he gathered herbs and ingredients from the forest, his mind focused on the familiar rhythms of nature. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, casting intricate patterns on the forest floor as he moved silently between the trees.

It was on one such day, while reaching for a rare blossom nestled among the ferns, that Caspian's world was irrevocably altered. He sensed a presence before he saw it, a soft rustling of leaves and the unmistakable feeling of being watched. He straightened, turning slowly to face the intruder.

There, standing just a few feet away, was a young man with an air of quiet strength and determination. In that instant, Caspian felt a profound connection. It was as if the young man's gaze had pierced through the walls Caspian had built around his heart, capturing his soul with a single look.

The young man took a tentative step forward, his expression a mix of hope and desperation. “Are you Caspian?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

Caspian nodded, unable to find his voice. He felt a strange sense of recognition, even though he had never seen this young man before. It was only when the stranger spoke his name that realization began to dawn.

“My name is Nathaniel,” the young man continued, his voice growing more confident. “I am the Ablation you created.”

Caspian’s heart skipped a beat. Nathaniel. The name echoed in his mind, a reminder of the choice he had made years ago. This was the Ablation he had created, now standing before him as a young man. The weight of his past actions crashed over him like a tidal wave, but he couldn’t turn away.

“What do you need?” Caspian asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Nathaniel stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Caspian's. “I’ve been told stories of you, of your power and knowledge. There are things I need to understand, truths I need to uncover. Please, help me.”

Caspian felt a surge of conflicting emotions. He had promised himself he would stay out of the Clave’s affairs, but seeing Nathaniel, seeing the determination and hope in his eyes, he couldn’t refuse. This young man was the embodiment of both his greatest failure and his deepest hope.

With a heavy sigh, Caspian nodded. “Very well, Nathaniel. I will help you.”

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

As time went on, Caspian and Nathaniel grew close, their bond deepening with every passing day. Nathaniel also formed a strong connection with Eliana, sharing moments of laughter and camaraderie that brought warmth to their secluded life. The feelings between Caspian and Nathaniel grew so profound that they eventually began a relationship together. It wasn’t just the two of them, either. When they were introduced to Elena Baywing, both men found themselves captivated by her. She quickly and willingly became the third member of their relationship, completing their triad with her grace and strength.

Caspian and Nathaniel’s partnership extended beyond their personal lives. They collaborated on creating new Runes and spells, pushing the boundaries of their magical knowledge. One of their most significant achievements was the creation of an Anchor spell for Nathaniel, designed to ground him and prevent the same fate that had befallen Beyla. With the support of his Parabatai, Victoria Baywing, and his Anchor, Barnabas Morgenstern, Nathaniel felt a powerful pull towards Ascension and ultimately became a Gemini.

Together with Eliana, Victoria, Barnabas, and Elena, they formed a tight-knit family of Warlocks and Shadowhunters. Their unity and strength allowed them to face any foe that crossed their path. However, all good things must come to an end. When the Clave discovered that Caspian possessed the ability to negate the immortality of the Ablations he had created, rendering them vulnerable to permanent death, they saw him as a weapon. Caspian, unwilling to be used in such a way, made a heart-wrenching decision.

With tears in his eyes, he bid a tearful farewell to Eliana, Nathaniel, and Elena. Caspian cast a powerful spell upon himself, one that would put him into a deep sleep, only to awaken if Nathaniel were to die a true death. The magical incantation enveloped him, and as he lay down, his breathing slowed, and he drifted into an enchanted slumber.

With Caspian out of reach, the Clave turned their focus to their only remaining weapon against Beyla Nightweaver – Nathaniel himself. To ensure Nathaniel’s compliance, they captured Barnabas and Victoria, holding them hostage. The Shadowhunters launched a ruthless attack to capture them, during which Elena fought valiantly but was ultimately killed.

In a desperate attempt to protect those he loved, Nathaniel sent Eliana into hiding, ensuring the Clave couldn’t get their hands on her. He then set off to fulfill his destiny, despite the burden weighing heavily on his heart. Nathaniel harbored a glimmer of hope – he believed that Beyla could be saved and was determined to try.

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

As the years passed, Beyla's reputation among the Downworlders grew to legendary proportions. She became their staunch protector, defending them against both Shadowhunters and Demons. Her acts of bravery and kindness earned her the admiration and gratitude of many, and she was welcomed wherever she went. Beyla’s presence brought a sense of security to those she vowed to protect, her name whispered with reverence and respect.

Despite her efforts to show the Shadowhunters that the blood within her veins was still that of an Angel, they remained unmoved. To them, her union with the Shadows marked her as inherently evil. Time and again, Beyla pleaded her case, trying to prove her intentions and the purity of her heart, but her words fell on deaf ears. The Shadowhunters' judgment was unwavering.

Eventually, Beyla's patience wore thin. If the Shadowhunters were determined to cast her as the villain, she would embrace the role they assigned her. She began to operate by her own set of rules, no longer seeking their approval or understanding. Her resolve to stand alone solidified, and she never allowed anyone to get too close to her again.

Elijah's death had left an indelible mark on her soul. Their bond was one of deep familial love, a connection that transcended friendship. The pain of his loss was a wound that had never fully healed, and she vowed never to let anyone into her heart again. The memories of their sibling-like relationship were both a comfort and a torment, a constant reminder of what she had lost. Beyla was convinced that if she ever allowed herself to care for someone in that way again, the inevitable heartbreak would be too much to bear.

Little did Beyla know that her resolve would be put to the test when a fellow Ablation would eventually enter her life...

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

Eliana, left to fend for herself after her father Caspian was placed in a magical slumber, her other father sent her away, and her mother was killed, found herself grappling with solitude. Determined not to be alone, she devised a unique price for her spells and magic: an orphaned child. It wasn't that those seeking her assistance had to orphan a child themselves—the child must have already been without parents. This arrangement led to Eliana amassing a small group of human charges under her care.’

Eliana became a mentor to these children, teaching them the skills that had been passed down to her. She instructed them in the arts of healing, the crafting of explosives, and the creation of poisons. Every piece of non-magical knowledge she possessed, she shared with them, ensuring they could create wonders and horrors alike. The villagers and other Downworlders who heard of Eliana feared her and her cadre of children. Whispers spread about the young ones who could either heal your deepest wounds or end your life with a simple concoction, depending on their whims.

For a time, Eliana believed this would be her life forever—a careful balance of power and protection within her hidden sanctuary. She grew accustomed to the respect and fear she commanded, finding a twisted sense of comfort in the control she maintained over her surroundings and those who sought her aid.

However, her seemingly unshakeable existence was disrupted following the events involving Nathaniel and Beyla…

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

Nathaniel had tried to get through to Beyla – tried to make her see that he was on her side but she had been burned too many times by Shadowhunters to trust him. He tried to get her to Ascend to a Gemini but she would have nothing over it. Being an Angel of Shadows was who she was and she wasn’t going to change herself for anyone. If it was her choice that would be different but if she was forced to then there would be no way.

Since Nathaniel failed to get her to Ascend, the Clave threatened the lives of Victoria and Barnabas if he didn’t comply and kill Beyla. It tore him apart and broke his heart to do so but he challenged Beyla to a duel and she complied. The battle raged on for a very long time until finally Nathaniel was victorious. If one could call it a victory – it was pointless, Beyla did nothing wrong but he was forced to take her life in order to keep his loved ones safe. He apologized to Beyla as he drove his Blade through her and her last words were a vow that both she and he would get what they deserved, she would make sure of it.

When Nathaniel went to the Clave to retrieve Victoria and Barnabas they refused to release them. Having his precious Parabatai and Anchor in their possession meant that they could always be sure that Nathaniel would comply to their orders. They did allow Nathaniel to reunite with Eliana as a reward, but Victoria would be forced to become an Iron Sister and Barnabas a Silent Brother for as long as Nathaniel was alive.

Now it was only Eliana and Nathaniel left of their family. Never to think it would ever be any different but all of that would change when the Angel of Shadows emerges from their resting place of the Shadow Realm to set a plan in motion to ensure that both she and Nathaniel get exactly what they deserve….

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

Thus ends the excerpts from the history of The Firsts

[allycat319]

Unlikely Affection Chapter 21: Dumbledore's Army

Apparently, the curse that Umbridge invented for the quill heals the wound once you've finished writing the sentence and then re-scratches the sentence into your skin…over and over, and by the end of the punishment I was leaving the classroom with a raw, red scar on the top of my hand.

When I made it to the common room I contemplated what I was going to do about it. I could write to my grandfather and tell him about the torture I was forced to sit through. But of course that would mean pulling him away from the ministry and that is never a good idea. In the end, I decided to wrap up my hand in gauze and go to bed. I refused to give Umbridge the satisfaction of my blabbing to McGonagall or my grandfather.

The next morning my hand was throbbing less but I still kept it wrapped, I hoped to avoid any unwanted questions. But of course, leave it to Edwin to play junior detective and hound me throughout breakfast.

“What happened to your hand? It wasn’t like that when I saw you yesterday evening.” He asked, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.

“Oh…I burned it on the railing of the fireplace in the dorm.” I lied and apparently, he wasn’t convinced.

“I have known you since birth... Are you really going to try and lie to me?” He cocked a brow at me and I sighed.

“Just drop it, Edwin.” I snapped, grabbing my bag from under my feet and hurrying out of the Great Hall and towards the Divination classroom.

***Later That Day***

Severus was not in the classroom or his office when I arrived for my free period, so I decided to grab some of the ungraded parchments from his desk and start marking. I had gotten through around half when the door to the classroom opened and the dungeon bat swept in, his robes bellowing behind him. I was quick to hide my scarred left hand in the sleeve of my robes in hopes that he would not see it, but I knew from the moment our eyes met, that something was off.

“Come here.” He said simply and I stood from his desk and walked over to where he was standing in the middle of the room.

He opened his arms and pulled me into a hug, I rested my head on his chest and sighed at the comforting contact after the traumatic events of my detention. However, my potions master had ulterior motives for his affection because before I could pull away he reached behind himself and grabbed my wrists pulling them around to his front and holding them steady in front of us.

He glared down at the top of my left hand and my heart rippled in my chest. “Who did this?” He sneered, his eyes never leaving my hands.

“It’s nothing.” I tried to pull away from his grip but he gripped me a little tighter, not enough to hurt but enough that I stopped pulling. “Please just leave it be.”

“Sit.” He instructed, pointing at the chair across from his desk, and of course, I complied.

“What have I told you? You are mine…therefore you are under my protection. I will not ask again…Who. Did. This.” His voice was dangerously calm and I decided then to accept defeat.

“Umbridge.” I sighed. “It turns out her detentions are worse than yours.” He held onto my left hand and pulled me gently into his office.

Severus walked to the cabinet in the corner and grabbed a small vial, pouring some of the contents on a white cotton rag he retrieved from the same cabinet.

When he walked back over to me he didn’t say anything. He just knelt in front of me and reached for my afflicted hand, dabbing the white cloth over it gently. The scar began to vanish as he rubbed the unknown potion over my hand.

“What is that?” I asked when he was finished, flexing my hand and admiring my now untarnished skin.

He stood and placed the rag on his desk and then leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a potion of my own design, a fair bit stronger than Dittany.”

“Thank you.” I smiled

His face softened “Thank Finley…He is the one that told me about your hand.”.

“That blabbermouth!” I stood from the chair and began pacing the small room. “I told him to just leave it alone…But of course, he runs to you.” I growled.

“He simply expressed that you were injured and refused to tell him what happened. He asked that I get to the bottom of it because “She can’t hex you, Professor.’” He mocked Edwin's voice which was a fair amount higher than his own and my anger dissolved immediately and I began to laugh.

“He’s not wrong…You’re a much better duelist than I am.” I giggled.

“I would hope so considering I am twice your age with a complete magical education.”

“And a background in dark magic…” I added and his smirk dropped. I threw my hands up in mock fear “I am just messing with you. Don’t curse me.” He rolled his eyes but I could see the twinkle of amusement hidden deep in those piercing black orbs.

“Enough of the nonsense and your adorable deflecting…Have you spoken to Minerva?”

“Absolutely not! It just gives toad face the satisfaction and I refuse to do it.”

“Aurora you need to-”

“No.” I interrupted him. “Promise me you won’t say anything.”

His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes, trying to contain his annoyance. “If it is your wish, I will keep silent…But if she so much as glances in your direction for longer than necessary…” He trailed off but I got the idea.

When I arrived at dinner that evening Edwin was already sitting at the table with an empty seat reserved for me beside him.

I plopped down in the empty seat and glared at him. “Stool pigeon,” I growled and he smiled weakly.

“I’m sorry…But I knew if you wouldn’t talk to me it had to be something really bad and he was the only one I knew to go to.” He glanced down meekly as he spoke and then he caught sight of my now undamaged hand. “See, he fixed it!”

I knew I could, in no way stay mad at Edwin, he had my best interests at heart after all and maybe this would be a turning point in him not being terrified of Severus. He did feel comfortable enough to go to him about what Umbridge did and that could be the one plus out of this whole situation.

As we ate, I told Edwin about Marigold’s offer since I didn’t have the chance to tell him everything yesterday. He was stunned, to say the least, and I was told to tell her that he would be delighted to take any help she would be willing to offer. I, of course, joked about him having to actually talk to her in order for this ‘study session’ to go anywhere and he promised me he would be able to carry a conversation and that I had nothing to worry about. I wasn’t convinced but I just agreed to let him figure it out with Marigold the rest of the way.

Edwin also told me that Harry had ended up in detention with Umbridge too and that she had inflicted the same torment on him earlier that day. Apparently, she was not a fan of the fact he spoke out of turn in her class to yell at her and insist that the Dark Lord had returned. Ron, Hermione, and Edwin had spent a great deal of time that evening before dinner trying to convince Harry to tell McGonagall and he refused, stating the same thing I did…To avoid giving her the satisfaction.

The next few weeks were utter hell on Earth. Harry told McGonagall about Umbridge’s detention the day after it happened and it seemed to cause an out-of-control spiral toward a ministry-controlled Hogwarts. Umbridge was appointed ‘High Inquisitor’, which meant that she was able to do most of what Professor Dumbledore was capable of and she was backed by The Minister at every turn. Not only was she harassing students and enacting ridiculous ‘Educational Decrees’, but she was also reviewing all of the teachers and patrolling the corridors waiting for anyone to break one of her declarations.

I knew it had gotten really bad when I walked into the potions classroom to help Severus grade and he was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. I dropped my bag on one of the workbenches and rounded the desk, placing my hands on his shoulders and massaging gently.

He groaned in appreciation and I leaned down and kissed his neck. “Rough day?” I asked and he groaned again.

“To say the least.” He mumbled. “That woman is driving me mad.”

“I know, Ron told me.” Severus sat up quickly and I jumped back. “What?” I asked, shocked by his abrupt movements.

“Weasley told you that Umbridge reviewed me this afternoon? Why would Weasley be telling you something that concerns me if he did not have suspicions about us?”

“Woah woah woah.” I raised my hands in front of me defensively “Calm down…He just told me because he was laughing about you getting the third degree from her. That’s all, no suspicion.” He sighed at that and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“My apologies Little Star. I’m a bit riled up.”

“I understand. I’m surprised you even entertained her, usually, people know you aren’t the most welcoming to criticism.” I said, walking around and sitting on the desk in front of him.

He placed his hands on my knees. “I had no choice but to entertain her. If I did not, it would have been the sack.”

“She can’t fire you. She isn’t Dumbledore.” I said defiantly and Severus chuckled.

“Is there anything I can help you do?” I asked, hopping down from his desk. “I know you’re stressed, I can help grade and take some of the burden off of you?”

Severus shook his head. “Unfortunately while Umbridge is in power, you need to be in your common room before curfew…Otherwise, it’s detention for you.”

I sighed but ultimately agreed and kissed Severus goodbye for the evening. I knew having Umbridge around was going to make evenings more difficult because of her overzealous need to keep up with ministry policies at Hogwarts. I was hoping that I would be given special permissions as a student assistant, but no…I was forced to obey the strict rules like everyone else and it was not fun.

It became even less fun when we were all gathered out in the courtyard while she sacked Professor Trelawney. She was not my favorite Professor, but she did not deserve to be embarrassed in front of the entire student body. Luckily for her, Dumbledore made his entrance into the courtyard and stopped Umbridge from ‘banishing’ Trelawney from the grounds of the school.

Edwin approached me a few days later and informed me that this weekend Harry, Ron, and Hermione were going to be gathering with some other interested students at the Hogs Head to start a secret society. Where we would be taught how to use defensive magic against the threats that Umbridge refused to teach us to protect ourselves from.

I knew that I couldn’t tell Severus about the secret meeting this weekend, so when he asked what my plans were I told him that Edwin and I were going to Hogsmead to drink butterbeer and study. Thankfully he believed me and when Saturday morning rolled around, Edwin and I made our way through the snow to the old run-down bar to enlist in Dumbledore’s Army.

[hmsmiracles]

Avalanche

0.6k words | Read on AO3 (also available in French) or FFN (also available in French)

*

“I could use another glass,” said Sirius, getting up from his chair. “Anyone else?”

“A butterbeer, please,” replied Hermione, which was met with nods from Ron and Harry. George lifted his still-full butterbeer and clinked it with Fred’s, which sat on the table, acting as a paperweight for whatever plans the twins were hunched over. Fred waved Sirius off, intently reading from the potions book he had ‘subtly’ taken from Hermione’s stack.

“Refill,” was all Remus said as Sirius passed him, pushing the tumbler into Sirius’ stomach. 

Harry looked up from the chess game he was losing at. “I’ll help,” he said, following Sirius into the kitchen.

After a few seconds, Hermione dropped her book on her lap. “Oh no.” She crossed her fingers on both hands. Even with her softly spoken words, the other four occupants of the room looked over at the shut-eyed girl.

It was Remus who spoke first, recognizing the muggle gesture of the crossing of fingers, “Hermione? What’s wrong?”

Then, a crash from the kitchen and a strangled yell. Hermione’s eyes popped open.

“He found my avalanche.”

Hermione and Remus locked wide eyes, and then Remus started howling with laughter, wheezing out sounds. "What does that mean?"

Then,

“REMUS!!”

And,

“There’s no need to shout, Sirius!”

“It’s my house, Molly, I’ll shout if I want to!”

Hermione, very worried and trying not to laugh herself, spoke quickly, "remember earlier when I said 'I'm trying not to create a butterbeer avalanche' and Fred said to 'let it happen?'"

Fred and George, having caught on to what had happened, joined Remus and Hermione in their laughter this time.

"So I let it happen..." Hermione worried her lip anxiously as the kitchen door slammed.

Which, obviously, was George's cue to yell, "Hey Sirius, could I get a butterbeer?"

When Harry and Sirius returned and Sirius glared at Remus, Remus only pointed at Hermione, who grinned sheepishly up at him. Harry started explaining the events of the kitchen to Ron.

Sirius’ eyebrows rose, and he pointed at Hermione, silently asking if it was her who caused the butterbeer avalanche.

Hermione nodded, pressing her lips together to try not to laugh.

Sirius squinted his eyes, huffed out a breath, and sat back down in his chair. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said, harshly placing the bottle on the table next to her.

"Um... Where's mine?" asked George.

"Oh, you absolutely don't get one." With that, Sirius handed Remus his drink and went back to their conversation.

Hermione grinned.

“I think,” said Fred, “I’m going to get ‘he found my avalanche’ tattooed.”

“The delivery… mwah,” added George, miming a little kiss.

“Would you write it down,” Fred asked, dropping an elbow to the ground and grinning up at Hermione from his position on the floor, “so I have something to show the tattoo artist?”

Hermione, about to reply, was interrupted by Ron. “Oi, gits! Stop making fun of her!”

Leaving Hermione in her confusion over the interjection (she didn’t think they were making fun of her…?), everyone turned back to what they were doing before Sirius left to get drinks.

Slipping a spare bit of parchment onto the closed cover of her book, Hermione grabbed a quill and wrote something down.

Thirty minutes later Ginny came to get them for supper, lamenting being stuck in the kitchen with Molly all day.

And Hermione slipped the parchment onto Fred’s notes as he and George tidied them up.

He had say tattooed. Hermione knew the makings of a bet when she heard it.

[bakuliwrites]

A Distant Past- Gortash x My Tav

Rating: Mature Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Enver Gortash x OC Tags: Slightly suggestive, a bit of angst, Gortash spoilers, BG3 spoilers, pre-events of Baldur's Gate 3, Gortash backstory, OC backstory A/N: I have no idea when I'm going to get around to writing my fic about my Tav, Orlando, but I'm coming up with all sorts of content for it. It's just completely out of order. So, here's a little mini-fic which will be featured in my eventual fanfic. For context, this occurs after Gortash and my Tav have escaped the House of Hope, but years before the events of Baldur's Gate 3 :) Want to know more about my Tav? Check her out here

Lifting his head from his cluttered desk, Enver pinches the bridge of his nose, willing the pressure of a nascent migraine to dissipate. He’s been working for hours, maybe even days, with little to show for it. Unfinished, half-baked ideas litter his workspace and he’s certain his five o’clock shadow has progressed into full beard territory. His dark eyes flick over to where Orlando is scratching away at some parchment, the grip on her quill irontight. The Tiefling’s forehead is crinkled in concentration, as she is no doubt absorbed in formulating some new potion derived from her luminescent tears. Recently, she made a bit of money selling a vial to a scientist of middling renown, who hopes to turn them into a viable light source. But that one sale hasn’t been much in the way of funds, hence her dedication to expanding her little business.

Enver listens to the harsh scratch of her pen on parchment and smiles to himself. Orlando’s patience is endless. How long has it been since they slipped through Raphael’s claws? A decade, at least. And how long has Enver been promising her safety, security, stability? Even longer. 

Thus far, he’s been able to provide exactly nothing for her. He’s resorted to thievery and scrounging around for whatever food and living accommodations he can find. It was Orlando that managed to secure the two of them a temporary home, albeit water damaged and reeking of brine. A hut on the beach in Baldur’s Gate isn’t exactly prime real estate, but it serves its purpose for now. Shelter and somewhere to work is all Enver really needs. He is a man of unwavering perseverance, more so than he even realizes, yet, in his late twenties. 

Even in this dingy shack they’ve commandeered as a workspace, Enver sees promise. He sees potential, if he can get any of his damn machines to actually work. Miniature prototypes of devices he’s given the temporary titles of, “Steel Soldiers,” (a name he plans to change one day) lay disassembled around his workspace. Blueprints for better designs, newer designs, cover his desk and spill onto the floor. Meanwhile, Orlando has laid claim to a small desk in the corner, comfortable in the dark and claustrophobic den she’s built for herself. She’s always been more productive in small, shadowy spaces. She glances up for a moment, webbed ears perking up when she hears Enver sigh. She meets his gaze and beams gently.

Part of Enver wishes he could give Orlando the life she’s always imagined, the one she wrote to him about in the secretive notes they used to pass back and forth in the House of Hope. Were she to stay with him, perhaps he could give her some semblance of that life, though it certainly wouldn’t be the saccharine fantasy she’d cooked up all those years ago. A fantasy she also appears to have abandoned. Years of struggling to make ends meet seem to have dashed any hopes she had for a cottage in the woods with a gaggle of children and flocks of sheep (or was it chickens? He can’t recall).

Enver is certain he can give Orlando a life better than the simple one she imagined as a child. He is meant for greater, grander things, and so is she. Orlando is more lethal than she realizes. Were she to unlock her potential, were Enver’s potential to be recognized- by the gods, they’d be unstoppable. Bane would no doubt be pleased. And whatever eldritch patron Orlando is bound to- well, it’s safe to say they’d benefit from a union as powerful as his and hers. 

Enver lets his mind wander for a moment. In another life, he stands at the grand window in a magnificent office. His magnificent office, one with mahogany shelves from floor to ceiling and space for him to fiddle with his machines. The deep blue waters of the Sword Coast shimmer brightly in his view, and Enver knows he’s made it. He’s the top of the top, the cream of the crop. In this dream, in this life, he is beloved, feared, and standing victoriously on the pinnacle of the world. A portrait of him, powerful and commanding, hangs above the mantelpiece, with Orlando sitting elegant and proud at his side. Triumphant, he swivels back to the window, gloating over the city that failed him so spectacularly as a child. However, the dream suddenly shifts. Night descends on Baldur’s Gate and the stars twinkle softly in their heavenly bezels. 

Enver still stands at his office window, a newborn son swaddled in his arms. The boy’s chubby cheeks are softer than velvet, his teeny, pink lips slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He looks like his mother, right down to the little horns sprouting from his head and the bioluminescent spots on his delicately webbed ears. But he has his father’s eyes (and possibly his nose, though it’s still a bit early to tell). He is the picture of innocence, cherubic and new. The world is a marvel to him still, the mysteries of which his parents will help him unravel in time. Mysteries Enver had to unravel for himself when he was a boy.  

A surge of contempt wells in Enver’s chest. Looking down at the sweet face of his little one, he cannot fathom how a parent could sell their child. He simply cannot comprehend letting anyone wrench his precious babe from his arms in exchange for a petty amount of gold. His son- Mirak or Nikhil, he decides (he recalls Orlando daydreaming about naming a son one of these names)- stirs, wriggling restlessly in his blanket. When the boy yawns, the slightest squeak escapes his throat, and Enver feels his heart swell. Who could be so cruel as to assign value to that which is priceless? 

In this other life, he feels Orlando’s arms snake around his waist and pull him close. She rests her head against his broad shoulders and when she leans up to press a lingering kiss to Enver’s neck, he smells her sweet jasmine and musk perfume, and for a moment, Enver could convince himself this life is real.

“My handsome men,” she affectionately hums, squeezing him tight. Enver shifts the baby to one arm, wrapping his other around his wife and drawing her near. The feeling that surges through him in this moment is foreign, utterly unknown to him. Is this what it’s like to feel unconditional love? Love without expectation? Love not as a commodity or something to earn, but something entirely inherent and guaranteed? Here they stand, a family of three. United, as they should be. As families ought to be.

But this life will never be. Enver’s trajectory has not allowed room for the comforts of settling down. This other life is a fantasy in every sense of the word. A ridiculous notion Orlando planted in his head over years of pining after a life that will always be out of reach. He must carry on, determined as ever. If life will not give him what he wants, then he must take it for himself.

A gentle touch draws Enver from his thoughts, ink-stained fingers carding softly through his jet black locks. Velvet lips press tender kisses to his cheekbones, scratching against his stubble and smiling softly against his skin.

“Come to bed?” Orlando tempts, her voice a drawl as her hands smooth along his shoulders. Meeting her eyes, Enver knows in his heart that they are on the cusp of something brilliant. Something life changing. He will stop at nothing to ensure a safe future for himself, for Orlando.

Enver grasps Orlando’s hand, pulling her into him, letting her settle on the desk in front of him. Her startled gasp turns to a giggle, which is swiftly hushed when his lips crash hungrily into hers. Orlando returns his kiss with equal fervor. Enver doesn’t have time for sleep, not if he wants to build the life he’s promised her for so long. But Enver won’t say no to blowing off some steam, refreshing his thoughts and losing himself in his cherished one for a while.

A/N: I don't intend for this fic to have any redemption arcs for Gortash. I want it to purely be a dual route fic: one ending with a corruption arc for my Tav and one ending where she will have to face off with Gortash. But I can't resist writing about what could have been in another life, if things had gone differently for them. Thank you for reading :) More to come.

[mrs-sharp]

The eyes of Graphorns

I've finished a new part of my fanfic, and we finally reach the part where the title is explained. Hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x mc

Summary: After their confrontation, Elaine and Sharp avoid each other. But after a short while, they both realize that they have difficulties being apart. Elaine takes the first step and invites Sharp to meet her in the corridor of the seventh floor.

Read part 1-4 here

Chapter 5 - Elaine's Laughter

Aesop Sharp sat in his classroom, turning a piece of parchment in his hands. In recent days, he had often sat here, lost in thought, although he really hadn't had the time for it. Every day, he would review the events in Elaine's office, and her words would echo in his mind. She had tried to find a cure for him. She had been injured in the attempt to confront his attacker. She had become a damn Auror and went to that cursed place named Scarborough. It wasn't that he hadn't believed she was capable, but the fact that she now had to endure the same pain that had haunted him for years because of him — he should have warned her before it was too late. But what troubled him most was what she had said to him: "You mean too much to me."

In the past week, he hadn't seen her often. They mostly met in the Great Hall, but she hadn't given him a chance to speak with her. Usually, she was already there before him, leaving the teachers' table before he had even started eating. Now he sat there, the empty parchment in hand, unable to find the right words. He had thought about sending her an owl. He wanted to apologize to her. For his behaviour and for not having control of the situation. But most of all, for accusing her of not wanting to help him. He wanted to say so much, and...

"Professor, we've finished brewing our Focus Potions," a voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up, and there stood a student holding a vial.

"Yes, yes, write your names on a piece of parchment and then place the potions on my desk. We'll discuss the results in the next class. Class dismissed..."

The students looked at each other questioningly and then began to leave the room one by one.

"What's wrong with Professor Sharp?" he heard a student whisper, and another replied, "I don't know, he's behaving strangely, maybe..."

The rest of the sentence left the room with the students. Aesop Sharp leaned back in his chair and sighed as an owl entered the room through an open window, dropping a piece of parchment onto his desk and disappearing without landing. He recognized the handwriting immediately:

"Please meet me after lunch on the seventh floor of the Astronomy Wing."

There was nothing more on the piece of parchment, but he knew who it was from. The whole week, he had caught himself waiting for a message that he had believed would never arrive. He had thought about a possible meeting with Elaine Hopkins much more often than he wanted to admit, and it unsettled him. Until now, he had never found it difficult to stay focused on his work, but since the confrontation with Elaine, he had noticed behaviors in himself that he didn't recognize.

Lost in thought, he imagined seeing her again outside the Great Hall while simultaneously trying to push the thought away. He knew he was behaving highly unprofessionally, even though she was now his colleague.

The morning dragged on like an eternity. When Sharp arrived in the corridor of the seventh floor, Elaine was already waiting for him. She didn't look at him as he approached and stood beside her. She sensed his presence, though, as he stopped next to her. He too looked at the wall she was staring at, perhaps hoping to discover something there, but all he saw was sand-colored stone.

"How was your first week at Hogwarts, Professor?"

He said her title as if it brought him joy to treat her as an equal. He glanced at her from the side and caught himself admiring her. He noticed again and again that he compared her to the student she had been when she left Hogwarts. Even then, he had appreciated her talent and courage, but he felt how much she had grown. She radiated sincerity and sharpness. She tempered her confidence with restraint and humility. He noticed that he had been staring at her for a bit too long, quickly looked away, and condemned himself for his inappropriate behaviour.

"I'm still getting used to standing on the other side of the classroom," she replied, "but it's going well."

Elaine was glad that Sharp was actually there. She hadn't been sure if he would come. He hadn't responded to her owl, but she hadn't expected him to. Even during her school days, he hadn't revealed more than necessary about himself. For the first time since she returned to Hogwarts, she felt something familiar. So much had happened in the last few years, and everything had changed, but now, with the professor standing next to her, who had fought side by side with her long ago, she felt that the shadows of the past were at least loosening a bit. She valued the Potions Master greatly — his knowledge and experience, but also his honesty.

"I want to show you something."

Elaine looked around to see if they were alone, closed her eyes, and after a few seconds of silence, a door formed on the bare wall.

"Is that..." Sharp began, and Elaine couldn't help but notice the wonder in his voice.

"The Room of Requirement," she nodded, finishing his sentence.

Elaine opened the door and invited him in. Sharp walked through slowly and felt like he had entered another world. The walls were filled with books, plants, and potion ingredients up to the high ceilings. Here and there were alcoves with seating, plant tables and potion stations. He spotted cauldrons and shelves full of vials filled with various potions. Diptam, river grass, shrivelfigs, and knotgrass grew in the room, along with mandrakes, Chinese chomping cabbage, and even a venomous tentacula. Sharp looked around with his mouth slightly agape.

"Professor Weasley led me here. This way, I was able to catch up on all the material I had missed in my first year," Elaine explained.

"Matilda, huh? I always thought of the room as a legend until now. She never told me about it," Sharp said, still marvelling at the sight. Elaine walked through the room.

"Oh, the shrivelfigs could use some fertilizer, and the venomous tentacula needs pruning."

"Miss Hopkins, is that you?" a voice suddenly squeaked from the other end of the room, and a house-elf appeared from behind one of the huge planters. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Deek, nice to see you. I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. Did you take care of everything with Professor Weasley while I was away?" Elaine asked, and Deek's face lit up.

"Yes, Deek did everything he could to take care of everything. You're accompanied today, I see?"

Elaine turned around. "This is Professor Sharp, the Potions teacher at Hogwarts."

"Pleased to meet you," he replied curtly, nodding to the house-elf.

"Deek, would you excuse us for a moment? I want to show Professor Sharp something," Elaine said.

"Of course," Deek replied and disapparated.

Elaine turned to her colleague, suddenly looking serious.

"I know it may sound inappropriate, but when we enter the next room, it's very important that you do what I tell you. Do you understand?"

Sharp's face became pensive, puzzled by the authoritative tone in her voice.

"I mean it. Please, you have to trust me."

It was hard for him to relinquish control, but he was also curious about what else this room held.

"All right," he answered and nodded.

"Follow me," Elaine replied, sounding suddenly very mysterious.

Aesop Sharp followed closely behind her, and they entered another room, although the word "room" hardly did it justice. Suddenly, he found himself in a vast hilly landscape. In the distance, he could see ruins. It felt as if they had landed in the farthest corner of the Scottish Highlands, although they were still inside the castle. Hogwarts never ceased to surprise him.

Elaine's whistle cut through the cool air. Sharp had been so busy marveling at the landscape that he hadn't noticed the magical creatures. Suddenly, Nifflers popped out of the tall grass bushes, starting to squeak excitedly when they saw Elaine, then bustling around her feet. Mooncalves danced around her, and from afar, Thestrals came flying. They galloped around Elaine, sniffing her. One lay on its back, rolling excitedly in the grass and making joyful noises. The smallest of them was snow-white and nudged Elaine's hand, urging her to scratch its head. Sharp had never seen anything like it.

The way the creatures approached Elaine so trustingly fascinated him. He had previously thought it was dangerous to get so close to magical creatures, but Elaine's interaction with them exuded a calmness that soothed him.

Sharp looked around. Diricawls darted through tall grass on one of the hills, next to them Kneazles dozed in the sunlight, and in the sky, he spotted a flock of Fwoopers in all the colors of the rainbow. In the distance, he even thought he saw unicorns.

"This is... wonderful," he remarked reverently. Elaine smiled. She couldn't remember ever hearing the former Auror speechless.

"I started this because I wanted to provide them with a safe environment. Almost all the magical creatures here fell victim to poachers. At first, I had no idea how much I would learn from them."

Sharp remembered hearing stories during Elaine's school days that she had taken down entire poacher camps with Poppy Sweeting, but he had dismissed it as gossip, embellishing the story of the dragon attack on Elaine's first day.

"So, the rumours about you and Miss Sweeting are true?"

"I don't know what rumours you've heard, but when I think about what Poppy and I experienced together in my first year, it's likely that they are true."

"You don't have dragons here, do you?" Sharp asked with a touch of irony, but also visibly concerned.

"Not in this room," Elaine replied. Sharp recognized from her expression that her response wasn't serious and smiled then. For a moment, Elaine paused. Her former teacher's smile flowed through her body, leaving behind a warm feeling of security. Over the years, she had realized how much she had missed him, but only now did she realize how much.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. At first, it was just a faint vibration under their feet, but Sharp noticed it immediately. He looked around hastily, trying to locate the source of the tremors, which had now intensified into a full-fledged quake. Suddenly, he felt Elaine's hand on his own. A warm shiver ran through his body like rain after a summer day.

"Don't," she said gently, looking at him. Without realizing what he was doing, he had stepped in front of Elaine and drawn his wand to defend them both.

"But..." he stammered.

A Graphorn came running towards them menacingly. It looked angry, and for a split second, Sharp hesitated, but then he followed Elaine's instruction and put away his wand. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst. When the impact he expected didn't come, he blinked cautiously. The magical creature had stopped just a few inches in front of them.

He had heard stories about Graphorns. About how powerful wizards were heavily injured or died in battle against them. The Ministry had even put bounties on the creatures. But up close, it didn't look so angry anymore. It reached out its tendrils, which swirled around its mouth and strongly resembled tentacles, and touched Elaine with them. The Graphorn snorted and wrapped its tendrils around Elaine's neck.

"It's okay, it's okay," she reassured the magical creature, "Yes, it's me."

When the creature turned towards Sharp and critically eyed him, Elaine spoke to it in a gentle voice, "This is Professor Sharp. He won't hurt you; you can trust him."

Sharp was touched; on the one hand, to hear his colleague say that he could be trusted, and on the other hand, by how gently the Graphorn treated her. The calmness Elaine radiated seemed to affect both him and the Graphorn. He felt himself relax and be overwhelmed by the beauty he observed.

Elaine looked at Sharp over her shoulder, "Most people are afraid of them, but they're actually quite gentle."

Sharp felt a bit caught off guard and lowered his gaze as another Graphorn appeared behind the first one followed by a second, smaller one.

"My goodness, this is unbelievable!" Elaine exclaimed. "You've had offspring!"

When the young one appeared behind its mother, Sharp was speechless. For some reason, the sight of the young one, about a head smaller than him, now purposefully approaching him, deeply moved him. It touched him with its tendrils. The touch tickled a bit, but it was gentle and friendly. Suddenly, Sharp felt a peace within himself that he had never known before, almost bringing tears to his eyes. The little Graphorn purred contentedly.

"It likes you," Elaine explained, now standing next to him and petting the head of the first Graphorn. "Graphorns use their tendrils to sense emotions. I studied them for a while when I was travelling. In the Pyrenees, there are village communities where wizards and Graphorns live peacefully together."

Elaine turned to Sharp, "Because the Ministry keeps hunting down these creatures, they are almost extinct here. That's why they usually attack immediately when they encounter a human in the wild. It might even be that these are the last ones in Britain."

With his mouth slightly open, Sharp looked at the huge Graphorn in front of Elaine. Upon closer inspection, he noticed how gentle the magical creatures looked up close.

"Their eyes..." he began, "they remind me of -"

"Pain?" Elaine tried to finish his sentence. "Graphorns seem to seek the presence of those who have experienced great suffering." They stood silent for a few moments. Sharp alternately looked at the small Graphorn and at his feet. It unsettled him that Elaine seemed to know his greatest vulnerabilities so naturally. But what unsettled him even more was the fact that he felt comfortable in her presence nonetheless. He wasn't used to trusting anyone.

Before he replied, Sharp examined the melancholic look in Elaine's eyes since she had returned here and nodded, "I wanted to say they remind me of you."

Elaine looked at him surprised. Graphorns' eyes were gentle, sad, perhaps even desperate, but above all, they had a fragile, vulnerable expression. Elaine had studied the creatures for a long time; they were intimidating and proud, but also strong, gentle, loyal, and intelligent. They fascinated Elaine, but she hadn't expected to be compared to Graphorns one day.

Suddenly, she started laughing because it sounded like a compliment from Sharp. It was an infectious and heartfelt laughter. Sharp hadn't heard her laugh since she had left school. Since she had been back at Hogwarts, he hadn't seen her smile even once. And he immediately knew that it wasn't a mocking laugh, but a liberating one that drove away the darkness of the past few years for a few seconds. It filled him with joy to see her like this. When she regained her composure, Sharp smiled at her.

There it was again, that feeling that Sharp's smile triggered in her. It touched Elaine and wrapped around her shoulders warm and soft as if it could protect her. For a moment, it felt like Elaine's laughter had dissolved everything that had stood between them, as if there was a particularly strong connection between them. They looked deep into each other's eyes, and for a moment, they both forgot the pain and Scarborough and all those they had lost. For this moment, everything inside them was free.

"I... I need to apologize to you, I shouldn't have..." she began, but Sharp shook his head.

"No," he replied in his deep voice, which sounded unusually calm and gentle, "I should have trusted you. The accusations I made against you... that was unfair. I'm sorry."

Elaine fell silent. Never in her life had she expected him to apologize to her. He looked at her. He looked at her with that penetrating gaze that seemed to look directly into her soul. He looked at her with his dark eyes and all the sadness that lay in them. He took a step towards her. He was so close to her now that she had to look up at him. A trembling tension ran through the silence between them, which slowly transformed into intimacy.

And then Sharp heard something that moved him so deeply as if he had been enchanted. It was the purest and truest thing he had ever heard. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but then a scarlet bird flew overhead, its song filling the vastness of the sky above them.

"Is that... a phoenix?"

Elaine nodded, also moved by the sound that seemed to fill everything around them and inside her. She swallowed and answered in a soft voice, "I've never heard him sing."

-> This way to Chapter 6 - Elaine's Secret

[scattered-shadows]

As seen on my FF.net

Following the events of fifth year, a new adventure awaits for Norah Lee. Boys, exams, school events, common room parties, and old foes outside of Hogwarts. Even battling pensieve guardians was easier than this.

Main Pair: OC/? Genre: Adventure/Angst/Fluff (it's a little of everything, tbh)

KEEP IN MIND: Characters are aged up (even if the story's got them in sixth year) to make it more appropriate. Time period is leaning towards the modern day so in case you might find anachronisms in the dialogue or references, this is why. This may also be quite a lengthy fic too.

BE WARNED: Social anxiety, mentions of blood and injury, grief, drinking, kissing but nothing more than that, death (this is Hogwarts Legacy, after all)

P.P.S: Sorry in advance for any mischaracterization and other mistakes. Tag list is open if you would like to follow this story on here. Reblogs are much appreciated.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Norah wasn't sure what was coming over her as she spent some time in the Room of Requirement over the next few days. It was like she was feeling everything all at once. The grief from losing Professor Fig, the anxiety over what she planned to do, the stress from the amount of lessons she needed to take in for NEWTs, and that fluttering feeling she didn't know how to describe whenever she was near her two male housemates. The worst part of it was that she didn't know who to turn to. She felt mostly helpless.

Deek the house-elf, had taken it upon himself to tidy up the areas close to the vivariums while she concentrated on her lengthy Ancient Runes essay in the adjacent study area. Over the past several days, she came to the conclusion that she would need some help from a teacher on how to access the caverns and build up the repository again.

She first thought of Professor Sharp, a former auror turned Potions master. Maybe he could help her regain entry. Then again, there was also Professor Hecat, who was an Unspeakable at the Ministry for some time. But she also knew that Professor Weasley was also a curse-breaker during her time and Professor Ronen was the Charms teacher for a reason. All of them would be of help. Telling all of them would be risky as they would be inclined to tell the headmaster what would happen.

But she knew that they of all people, would understand the gravity of the idea the most. They came to her rescue when the goblins invaded the caverns that day, including Natty's mother, Divination Professor Onai. Norah looked at the four other drafts of letters she planned to send to each of the professors she thought of, in the hopes that at least one of them would be able to help her. Would that have seemed shameless? She thought.

With a sigh, she reached over the drafts and tore up the pieces of parchment before pointing her wand at it. Professor Ronen introduced the lesson of mastering non-verbal spells for NEWT-level students, and she was able to at the very least, master Evanesco. The torn up pieces of parchment vanished and she put her wand down again to continue writing her essay.

She suddenly heard a soft rumble in the room, and out of nowhere appeared a table that was already laden with food, from mashed potatoes, sausages, cheeses, bread, buttered vegetables, and soup. The room seemed to figure out what she needed, and she had only just remembered to eat.

Norah put her quill down and got up from her seat to approach the table. She hurried over to the hallway to check where the house-elf was. "Deek? Deek!" She called out.

Deek soon appeared, walking toward her. "Yes, Miss?"

Norah smiled. "Join me for a meal. It suddenly came up," She gestured to the spread. "I only remembered to eat just now, and I know I won't be able to finish these," She laughed.

Deek smiled. "Deek thought Miss hasn't eaten yet, so I asked some to bring food here."

"Deek..." Norah raised a brow. "Well, as a thank you, you have to eat with me, I really can't finish all of these."

The house-elf hesitantly approached the spread but before Norah could interject, with a snap of his fingers, his own spread appeared laid out on a mat on the floor, with a small bowl of soup and a piece of bread. "Your food is best shared with your friends."

"And you're my friend, Deek, I want to share all of this with you," Norah pointed out, picking up the plate to place servings of sausages, mashed potatoes, and buttered vegetables. Deek snapped his fingers again, and pitchers of pumpkin juice and water appeared next to her goblet. "Deek!" She laughed, and the house-elf looked amused by her reaction.

They heard the sound of something shifting, and before Norah could tuck in, they heard the voices of Sebastian and Ominis. "You've been hiding yourself away in here all week. What's gotten into you?" The brunette boy asked, suddenly helping himself to the food when Deek conjured up more plates and cutlery.

"You were supposed to help me with my Ancient Runes essay too," Ominis added, suddenly pointing his wand towards the food. "Oh, something smells delicious..."

"Please help yourselves," Norah said. "Deek was kind enough to have these sent up here for me."

"So, care to explain yourself? You've been acting weird all week," Sebastian continued to press as he tucked in on her right side while Ominis sat himself on her left.

"I've just had a lot on my mind lately. Been thinking about things, is all," She muttered in between spoonfuls of vegetables and mashed potatoes.

Sebastian glanced at her while he took a drink of pumpkin juice. "Like?"

"Like all these lessons I have to learn, and other things. I'll talk about those other things some other time," She made sure to point out. "Don't worry, I've just been quite busy."

"It's not a bad thing to ask for help, Lee," Sebastian's expression changed into that of concern. Ominis also had a concerned look on his otherwise neutral expression. "You act like we haven't gone through what we went through last year. At least talk to us if you can't tell the others."

She wanted to tell them. She knew he was right. But she didn't exactly know how to explain what she was thinking about, what she was feeling at that moment. It was when Ominis reached out to touch her hand that made her snap out of her thoughts. "Norah?" He asked, as if tacitly pleading.

"You've done everything no other student possibly could last year. It's safe to say that you need to let off some steam, and I don't mean just shutting yourself inside this room and feeding and brushing those beasts you keep in those vivariums over there," Sebastian tilted his head toward the hall that led to the main room.

But before she could speak, she saw her owl fly inside and drop a letter at the table. Norah could immediately recognize the handwriting. It was from Lucan, telling her to come up to the clock tower courtyard to oversee a round of Crossed Wands. "This will have to wait, it's Crossed Wands time, you ready, Sallow?" She grinned, getting up.

Ominis frowned and nearly devoured the remaining food on his plate before getting up. "I'm holding you to that, Lee."

"Why haven't you had a go in Crossed Wands, Ominis?" Norah asked curiously.

"Yeah, why haven't you had a go in Crossed Wands?" Sebastian teased his friend.

"Tempting, but no, I think my being visually-challenged is one reason why I could never go for that," The young Gaunt replied.

She rolled her eyes. "You literally fought inferi with me. You can't use your blindness as an excuse. If anything, you have as much of a chance at winning this year's tournament. Besides, Sebastian could partner with you. Or even Natty," She suggested.

"Or even you," Ominis grinned. "If I join, will you be my partner? Do we have a deal?" He said.

Norah held out her hand. "Deal. If you join, I can partner with you. Shake on it."

Sebastian looked intrigued, a shit-eating grin on his face as he followed them out of the room. "Now that I am looking forward to."

Natty, Poppy, and Amit were at the clock tower courtyard when the three of them showed up. The sight of Norah entering led to whispers among the other students, all of whom hopeful to advance in the tournament. Lucan looked especially excited upon seeing them.

"The Crossed Wands duellist to beat!" Leander called out with a grin on his face, followed by Grace.

"Here she comes! The reigning champion!" Lucan announced.

"A few second, third, and fourth years are looking to duel this time, I hear," Natty told them as soon as they gathered in one corner. "I say they have an unfair opponent with Hector Jenkins and Charlotte Morrison giving it another go this time around. Astoria Rickett bested some yesterday."

"They can put up a fight, yeah," Norah nodded, immediately seeing Lucan gesture for her to come over. "Hello Lucan, how are you?" She said.

"I'm doing very good. Mind giving our potential duellists some pointers?" He asked, his voice loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Use what you've already been taught, I guess," Norah shrugged. "If you're unsure, Lucan can set you up with a training dummy to practice. That's how I was able to do well. Oh, and good luck, Charlotte and Hector are really good."

The young Gryffindor's cheeks turned pink. Hector and Charlotte smiled at the compliment. Lucan cleared his throat to snap himself out of it. "Alright! Wands at the ready! Whoever's left standing wins!" He declared.

Norah returned to where Sebastian and the rest of the group were standing, including Ominis, who was listening intently to the spells being thrown around the room. Lucan even had to shield himself when a levitating charm bounced off Hector. Leander quickly ran behind the doors when a blasting curse was fired, sending Charlotte flying back a few feet from where she was standing, her robes scorched.

"Whoa, quite bold of them to use confringo in their initiation round," Sebastian commented. "I would've thought they kept to levitation and disarming charms."

Natty looked impressed. "They must have learned on their own."

"I wonder what Professor Hecat would think of that, I think she knows about Crossed Wands," Poppy muttered.

"Better just confringo than bombarda. We wouldn't want this tower to break down," Norah said, and they hummed in agreement.

"There are defensive charms all over the castle. They'll be fine," Sebastian said.

The duel was a close one, with Lucan watching so intensely at how everything unfolded. Unfortunately, the pair of second years were defeated, with Charlotte and Hector exchanging high fives while shaking hands with the students. Astoria Rickett and Leander were next in going against the pair of third years looking to join.

"That was a close one, second years, better luck next year," Lucan assured them as they left.

"You think they were trying to impress you?" Ominis teasingly asked Norah, who wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"More like the rest of you," She retorted. She noticed one of the second years, a Ravenclaw girl, kept glancing at Sebastian before and after the duel. Sebastian, unfortunately, didn't seem to notice.

"But we're no heroes of Hogwarts," Natty pointed out.

Violet McDowell, one of the Slytherin prefects, had posted a notice on the common room's bulletin board that evening. The first of the many house parties was going to take place in two weeks. Word had soon got out to the rest of the students that it wasn't surprising that even the teachers had some idea. With the exception of Professor Black, who was too absorbed in his own affairs than that of the school.

It was upon the announcement of the party that Norah found out about how exclusive house parties were in Hogwarts. Sure, they were unsanctioned, yet the prefects and head boy and head girl looked the other way when it came to it. Even Gladwin Moon, despite serving as caretaker, kept mum on the parties as he would see those nights as a time for an extended stop at the Hog's Head. But students, including prefects, from the other houses, needed to know someone from the house throwing a party to be able to enter the common room.

"Brilliant, the first party's in two weeks," Sebastian nodded. "All of these NEWTs are doing my head in."

"I'm so looking forward to letting myself go by then," Grace sighed. "I'm guessing we're bringing in some barrels of butterbeer?"

"Obviously."

"Maybe a few bottles of firewhisky while we're at it," Grace was grinning. "We'll just need to endure a few weeks of homework and lessons first."

"I heard Garreth Weasley's planning on introducing his new brew at the first party too. Coincidentally, the first party's at the Gryffindor common room," Sebastian chuckled. "I'm looking forward to that."

Norah suddenly appeared, having returned from the Room of Requirement with her rolls of parchment and quill in tow. "Garreth told me about the party on the way back here. Seems like you're all excited," She noticed Sebastian.

"Who wouldn't be?" The male replied. "Weasley ask you about the ball yet?"

The question made Grace look intrigued. Norah shook her head. "I think the party's all he's thinking about now, despite what Natty's been saying."

The mention of Weasley made Norah realize the answer to the question she was thinking about earlier. If there was a teacher who could help her somehow, who knew the details of what Professor Fig told her, it would be Professor Weasley herself. She immediately knew what to do. She could only hope Professor Weasley could agree to it.

Sebastian looked at her curiously, already sensing that she had something up her sleeve. "What are you on about now?" He asked.

"I just realized something. Can you put this in my room for me? I'll be back," Norah handed him her things before running back up the staircase going out of the common room.

Grace and Sebastian watched her leave. "Where else is she going now?" The blonde pondered.

"I don't know," Sebastian could only say, yet he had an idea as to what it was. He went up to the girls' dormitories, being careful to freeze the stairs first in case it would turn into a slide. Knowing where Norah's bed was, he placed her things on top of the trunk before running toward the boys' dormitories, where Ominis was dozing off. "Hey, we need to get the others. I think I know what she's been up to."

The doors of Professor Weasley's office quietly opened and Norah peeked inside, seeing the Transfiguration teacher herself, having anticipated her coming in, with a smile. "Hello Miss Lee," She said.

"Professor, do you have a moment?" Norah closed the door behind her and sat down when Professor Weasley gestured to the chair.

"Of course, what is it?"

"Last year, when you and the other professors came into the caverns, Professor Fig, told you everything?"

"Yes, he did. He told me everything and the reasons why you've been leaving the castle ever so often on his behalf. What about it?" She asked.

There was no other way to say it. "Professor, I would like to return to the caverns and rebuild that repository. It is what Professor Fig would've wanted, what many others who have died in Ranrok's hands wanted. I'm prepared to rebuild the repository, it's full of the pain, pain that Isidora Morganach took from her students without their consent, and turned into power. It will be opened again once we've learned enough of it."

Professor Weasley stared at her, nodding slightly at the explanation. Norah could feel her eyes well with tears the more she explained. "Are you sure you want to do this? " She asked quietly, her expression softening. "That is the most important question to ask."

Norah nodded. "This power, which I feel, is becoming too much. It's like I'm feeling everything at once. Like all the pain, all the grief, I'm honestly getting overwhelmed and I have my work cut out for me," She said.

"You were made to do something you should never have to do at your age when you faced Ranrok and his loyalists. It's not your fault things are the way they are," Professor Weasley said. "A heavy burden was placed on your shoulders, when all you should be thinking about is your magical education. I'm glad you came to me about this. What can I do to help you?"

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, professor. I would like to return to the caverns and reform that repository. I have the wand that can reopen the doors to that repository. All we need to do is rebuild it and contain all of it. I know I cannot do it alone," Norah explained.

"And you won't have to. Let me know when you plan on returning, and I shall meet you at the entrance to the map chamber," She said.

"Yes, thank you, professor," Norah nodded, getting up from the chair and turning to leave.

"Miss Lee?"

Norah turned around, hand poised on the door. "Yes?"

"Let others help you. You needn't carry this on your own."

"Understood, professor. Thank you."

Norah stepped out into the Transfiguration courtyard when she saw the concerned faces of her friends. "You could've asked us for help, you know, talked to us," Sebastian's arms were crossed.

"I know, and I'm sorry-"

"Never do something like what you're planning to do by yourself," Natty chimed in.

Ominis, however, looked the most calm while trying to calm his best friend down with a pat on the shoulder. "What did Professor Weasley say? Did she agree?" He asked.

"She did."

The young Gaunt nodded. "Good. I'm glad she agreed to whatever you asked. We can talk later if you'd rather not say anything right now."

"Thank you," Norah turned to the rest of them. "So, the party?" She tried to shift the subject.

The mention of the upcoming event made each of them smile. "Hey, I have an idea, why don't we look for another table?" Amit suggested. "Looking at the stars can be relaxing."

"Is that why you're often up at the Astronomy Tower?" Poppy raised a brow. "Or you've been holding back on asking Samantha to the Yule Ball?"

"She does seem interested in you, Amit," Norah added. "...But, do you even want to take her to the ball?"

"I-I don't know yet," The Ravenclaw shrugged. "If the stars says it will be, then I will."

Natty chuckled. "You sound like my mother."

Amit frowned. "That will be in my memoir, just you all wait."

"And you've never even said if you liked her or not," Sebastian grinned. He turned to Norah. "Anyway, I got the edition of the evening prophet. Looks like Harlow was last seen near Keenbridge. He looked quite ghastly, according to people who spotted him. But he killed a few people who tried to call the authorities for help."

The mention of Harlow's name made Norah stand up straight. She immediately knew what to do. "Alright, I've heard people nearly become shells of their former selves," She said.

"I heard that place can really suck the happiness out of someone. With all those dementors guarding the cells," Poppy shuddered at the thought. "Those that are imprisoned there do end up becoming shells of their former selves...like devoid of any happiness or soul. Like those angry dugbogs under Ranrok's powers, or that dragon that attacked your carriage."

"It's hard to think someone like Harlow would have a soul to begin with. Him and his poacher pack have been torturing and killing beasts for sport," Natty pointed out with a frown. "If he is anything like Rookwood, and I'm sure he is, he won't stop until he acquires the power he once had. Even if it means coming after Norah or any of us again."

Ominis sighed. Norah patted his shoulder. "Then all the more we must stay here. As long as we're in Hogwarts, no harm can come to any of us," He said. "We're all safe here."

Norah wanted to do just that, but she knew in her heart that she couldn't walk away from a fight that would be laid out for her sooner or later.