#Prepare those eyes Viktor because I will make you cry

[notsofrozt]

One more day, 24 more hours, and I'll be able to serve the blorbo angst soup I've been cooking in my head these days

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter Pt 2

Warnings: Yelling, self doubt? 

Requested: No

MUST READ PART ONE FIRST 

This hasn’t been proofread so I’m sorry in advance!

Part One The following weeks after Sirius arrived at Grimmauld Place were good. He spent some time with Ali although they ever spent much time with just the two of them at her request to her Uncles. She had agreed to spending time with Sirius, but didn’t want to be by herself with him; not that she feared he would harm, but that she didn’t want things to be awkward or for her to say the wrong thing. Regulus or Remus was always home with the two since Sirius wasn’t allowed to leave the house. Ali learned that like Regulus Sirius could play piano and also speak French. She also noticed that Sirius was restless. He always was moving or doing something to occupy his mind. They played Wizards Chess, Ali always won, or Exploding Snaps, Sirius won as well as watched a few Muggle movies. 

Sirius enjoyed spending time with his daughter learning all the things he should have known if it weren’t for him being in Azkaban. He learned that her favorite color was green, that she loved to read anything she could get her hands on, and that she could speak some French as well as Bulgarian. She didn’t play Qudditch, but enjoyed watching it and was a fan of the Bulgarian team since she was friends with Viktor Krum. When Viktor was mentioned Sirius learned from Remus that the boy had had a crush on her, but Ali only saw him as a friend. True to Remus’s word Ali really was a light. The old house he was forced to stay in seemed brighter now that there was so much life in it. 

Although he enjoyed the time he got to spend with Ali, he was slightly agitated that he didn’t get to have one on one time with her. He knew that she didn’t fully trust him yet, but he wasn’t going to hurt her. On top of spending time with Ali, he always got to build his relationship with Remus back up. It was strained before he was arrested and it still was. He thought Remus was the traitor so he avoided him the last couple of days of the first war. He loved Remus as a brother though he used to think that it was more than that. Now that Remus spent so much time at Grimmauld Place their relationship was as strong as before. Regulus and Sirius still got on each other's nerves and it was bluntly obvious most times. Regulus tried to maintain his temper mainly for Ali because he knew she didn’t like yelling. Try as he might they still had a yelling match that Ali had overheard while Remus was out. 

It was the Tuesday after Sirius had arrived, and Ali had been in the living room on the couch reading a book. It was the first time Remus had left in a couple days and he was out to get groceries. Regulus had been reading with Ali when Sirius came in and asked to speak with him privately. Ali had acted like she was paying attention when the men left the room. She heard the door to the study shut, she quietly went through the trap door in the hallway that led into the wall of the study. She sat on her heels listening to the conversation that was about her. 

“Why is Ali hanging out with the Malfoy’s? I thought you were done with all the Death Eater business, Regulus,” Sirius accused. 

Regulus rolled his eyes, “because they are friends? Isn’t that what friends do? I thought you of all people would know that.” 

“Friends? Seriously? You KNOW that Lucius was a Death Eater and he would never change his ways. And you just let her be friends with their kid?! Are you insane?,” Sirius yelled making Ali flinch. 

“Yes. they are friends. Ali has a hard time making friends if you must know. She’s a Black and your child. You were sent to Azkaban, it’s public knowledge. No one trusts her no matter how many times she proved herself. She hangs out with Draco and his friends. He watches out for her. He always has.” Regulus’s voice was firm. He wasn’t going to let Sirius ruin the few relationships Ali had outside of the house. He knew that Sirius wouldn’t trust the Malfoy’s but he did. They helped him with ali when he needed something the was grateful for. Sirius would never understand what it’s like for Ali. “Sirius, I will not be discussing this again with you. Her friends are her friends. She trust them. Get over it. You have no right to say anything about it. Leave it alone, Sirius. I suggest you come to term with it.” 

Regulus had left Sirius stewing over his words. Sirius didn’t want his daughter hanging out with the Malfoys and she was not going to. Alianova was his daughter, not Regulus’s. If he didn’t want her hanging out with them, she wouldn’t. 

Sirius hadn’t spent a lot of time with Ali since that day. She had overheard from Remus that Harry and some others were to be joining us at Grimmauld Place, something that she's not looking forward to. Her and Harry didn’t get along mainly due to the fact that she was there when Draco made fun of Harry's friend choice in First Year. Admittedly Ali was the reason that Draco had stopped with tormenting so many people, but he hadn’t stopped completely and Harry just got on his nerves to no end. It didn’t help matters that the Weasley twins had played many pranks on her. Draco wouldn’t stand for anyone making fun of or bullying Ali. Draco saw her as a little sister even though they were only 3 months apart. 

When Harry had found out that Sirius was his Godfather while believing that he was the cause of his parents death, he had taken it out on Alianova. Calling her many names, blaming her for her fathers actions, and going as far as saying she was as vile as those that followed Voldermort. Though Harry blamed her father for what had happened he didn’t know that it was her father; he believed it was her Uncle. Even after he learned the truth he had never apologized to Ali or even looked her way for that matter. Ali was pretty sure that Herimone didn’t have much of an opinion on her since that had never had problems nor talked. Ron put her in the same category as Draco since she hung out with him and other Slytherins. She was also there when Draco called Hermione a Mudblood, what Ron didn’t know was that after the incident Ali gave Draco a tongue lashing and didn’t speak to him for three days till he was basically crying, begging her to talk to him. So Ali knew that when Harry arrived it wasn’t going to be pleasant for her. 

Her Uncles were aware of the fact that she didn’t get along with the Golden Trio, and were seemingly preparing for the worst. Severus dropped off a new set of books she had been wanting so that she could keep busy if she was going to hide out  in her room. Remus had talked to her about it, explaining that he knew Ali never did anything to make Harry act like he did towards her, as well as making sure she had her favorite tea and extra chocolate chip cookies in the cupboard. Regulus was silently preparing for a battle to break out when Harry did arrive. He had a feeling that it wasn’t going to go over well when he saw how the duo couldn't stand one another. Sirius would think that Harry and Ali would be best friends because him and James were. Regulus had never actually talked to the Potter boy unlike Severus and Remus. Ali never talked about him, but he had heard a few things from Draco about how Potter perched for equality though treated Slytherins like dirt Ali being included. 

The couple days leading up to Harry's arrival with the Weasley’s Ali started going in on herself; spending even more time alone, not talking a lot during meals, or going to bed earlier than normal. Sirius noticed her odd behavior but just thought it was a teenage girl thing. He was excited for Harry to get there. He felt bad that he wasn’t there for him all these years and was planning on making it up to him in any way that he could. It was all that came out of Sirius’s mouth the last couple of days and Regulus was fuming over it. Sirius hadn’t even been this excited when he was going to meet his own daughter for crying out loud.

Ali was sitting in the kitchen when she heard a commotion coming from the front door. Thinking it was just Remus coming back she brushed it off going back to reading her book till she heard voices coming towards her. She looked up seeing Sirius walking in with Harry under his arm while an army of Redheads followed. Great. I’m trapped in here with them, she thought to herself. Truthfully she was nervous that Harry  was going to say something that could ruin  what little relationship she had with her father. Ali didn’t do well with a lot of people she didn’t know and while she went to school with all these kids she didn’t know them besides their bullying towards her. Glancing back up from her book she saw that Ron was glaring at her, Harry was looking at her with what could be described as distrust, and Sirius was looking at her confused while the others looked at her with curiosity minus the twins who couldn't care less. 

“Ali, get off the counter and come say hello to our new house guest,” Sirius demanded while motioning her forward. She hopped off the counter trying to fight off the blush that was rising to get reprimanded for something she did all the time, and offering a little wave towards the crowd, “Hi, I’m Alianova, but you can call me Ali.” 

None of the children said anything, but the redheaded adults looked at her oddly. The women who Ali knew to be the Weasley mother looked at Sirius, “You didn’t tell us that Regulus had a daughter Sirius.” 

Ali’s mouth dropped. He hadn't ever mentioned her to anyone? She felt her heart shatter in her chest. Tears burned in her eyes as she felt like a dirty little secret. She cleared her throat hoping to get rid of the egg carton she had swallowed not wanting to cry in front of them. 

“As much as I would love to take claim for this princess, I cannot. Isn’t that right, Sirius?” Regulus ultimately appeared out of thin air next to Ali wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He knew that Molly meant no harm with her comment, but it hurt Ali still. Regulus couldn't help but smirk a little when he noticed Sirius was flustered a bit at Molly's comment. Sirius oblivious wasn’t expecting someone to rung up the fact that he had a daughter that he didn’t tell anyone about. The humor was swiped out of the situation when Regulus noticed the tears gathered in his nieces eyes. Regulus wished that Ali was all his and not Sirius’s. Sirius didn’t deserve someone so pure, and time would tell if Sirius deserved someone at all. 

Everyone looked shocked staring at Sirius, “Then whose is she?,” Harry asked. 

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly looking down at his feet, “Harry, this is my daughter Alianova Black.” 

“What?!”

“Your daughter?” 

“She’s a snake!” 

Various voices rang out through the room as the information was taken in. Ali subconsciously stepped closer to Regulus clutching her book to her chest, not enjoying the loud noise nor the stares that were now coming her way. Molly had hushed her children before stepping forward to meet the girl. 

“Hello, dear. I’m Molly Weasley.” Ali looked at the women nervous. She uncurled her hand from around her book and shook the older womens hand. She smiled slightly at her and her kindness, thanking Merlin that at least one of the Weasley’s seemed nice. Molly started to point to the others in the room, “That’s Arthur, my husband, ‘ Pointing to the man that gave her a enthusic wave before looking around the house again. “Bill and Fleur,” A long haired redhead with a fang earring stepped forward with a girl Ali recognized as Fleur Delocur under his arm. Fleur smiled brightly when she saw it was Ali everyone was talking about. They had talked some while Fleur was at Hogwarts, and she was looking forward to speaking with the young girl again. “That’s Charlie. He won’t be here a lot since he goes back and forth to his job in Romania,” A man with long hair who was slightly shorter than Bill, but broader smiled at her nodding his head before turning back to his older brother. “And of course you know the others from school, right dear?” 

Ali nodded her head avoiding looking at the younger of the bunch. Harry spoke up once again looking at Ali, “You never told me he was your dad.” 

“You never asked, Potter,” Ali summoned all the confidence she had in her body to help her look him in the eye. “And obviously it wasn’t important enough for Sirius to mention it either.” 

The tension was thick in the room. Most looking between Ali and Sirius wondering what was going to happen next. When Sirius noticed no one was going to come to his aid he stepped up, “I didn’t mention it because it just never came up. I wasn’t sure where you were Alianova so I didn’t know if they knew you or not. Maybe now that all of you,” he paused looking at the trio then me, “will be living in the same house where you can be friends.” 

Ali silently rolled her eyes knowing that nothing would make them want to be friends with her. Ron scoffed, “Yeah right. She’s a bloody slytherin.” 

His comment earned him a whack upside the head from his mother. “It doesn't matter what she is or not. You will be nice, do you understand me?” She sent pointed looks to Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George who all looked down at the floor nodding. Ali noticed the pleading look she got from the twins, but she couldn’t tell if it was asking her to forgive them or for her not to tell all the horrid things that they had done to her and her friends. 

Ali decided it was time to correct something. Even though they had all been sorted together it was evident the trio had not paid enough attention to know what house she was in. “Actually, I’m a Ravenclaw.” 

Regulus beamed down at his niece freaking his older brother out. He was proud that ALi stood up for herself. She was Black, but did not have the temper of one. She often preferred to ignore confrontation at all cost. Ali lit out a quiet giggle at the look of shock on their faces. She figured at least Hermione knew that she was a ravenclaw. 

“But you are always with the Slytherins,” Harry stated

“Yeah, they're my friends?” 

“But you're a Ravenclaw, why hang out with the snakes?” Ron seemingly finished Harry's thoughts for him and Ali wondered if it was because they shared a brian cell. 

“I just get along with them..Draco is family anyway. So we’ve always been close. I don't understand what the problem is? Just because I’m from one house I cant be friends with people in another?” Ali crossed her arms over her chest while Harry glared at her through narrowed eyes. 

Noticing that things were going to get south quickly Regulus stepped in. “Um, Molly, Kreacher has prepared some of the rooms you lot. The doors that are open are the ones that are ready. I can have Kreacher show you if you like.” 

“No it's okay, dear.” with that Molly Weasley set off, ordering her children to a room and to whom they would share with. Herimone and Ginny, and Fred and George took the rooms on the top floor, Harry and Ron on the floor above Ali with Molly and Arthur, while Charlie took the room beside Ali’s and Bill and Fleur took the room across from her. Ali was excited that Fleur would be so close to her. Although the girl was much old she had taken a liking to Ali and the two bonded through French and their love for anything sweet. Fleur was one of the many girls and boys that Ali had bonded with when the other two schools were staying at Hogwarts. Viktor was someone Ali had known from a young age and he had introduced her to many of his Balharian friends whereas she met Fleur on accident and became close with ehr and the other french girls. Before leaving the room Fleur had shocked everyone by pulling Bill and Charlie with her to hug the girl close and whispering that she was glad to see her again. Fleur introduced her to the older Weasleys more privately making sure Ali knew that they wouldn’t judge her like the others did since Fleur knew all about her struggles in school. 

Charlie was shocked when he saw the book about Dragons in Ali’s hands. “You read about Dragons?” Causing Bill to roll his eyes at his brother. 

“You only just met the girl ten seconds ago and you are already starting about dragons?” Fleur and Ali let out a little giggle at Bill’s comment while Regulus watched from the corner of the room happy that someone was being kind to his Ali. 

“It’s okay, Bill. Um, yeah, my uncle Sev got me this book. I like to learn about different creatures. I already read all I can about Hippogriffs so I’m onto dragons. You work in romania right? The dragon sanctuary there?” Ali felt kind of odd to be talking with people about something she liked who didn;t know her very well. Every Draco got bored of her ‘learning talk’ as he called it. 

“Yeah I do. How’d you know?” Bill was stunned to see Charlie talking freely without being awkward. Charlie was not well with people which was why he worked so close with as many non human things as he could. 

“Your mum mentioned Romania and you have on Dragon skin boots. So I put two and two together.” 

“Watch out, boys, she’s observant. She’ll know all your secrets before you can even count to ten.” Fleur laughed, hugging Ali once more promising to catch up later before dragging the boy to unpack. 

Ali stood awkwardly watching Sirius fawn over Harry. It was as if Sirius was Harry’s father instead of hers. He had spent a little bit of time with Ali over the past couple of weeks, but he never acted like that. Maybe that was why she had a hard time calling him Dad. It would go back and forth between Sirius and dad. Remus had explained to her that she didn’t have to do anything that she didn’t want to from a young age, so sometimes when she felt like he was acting like her father he was dad, but others he was just Sirius. 

Air of awkwardness around Ali broke Regulus’s heart as he followed her gaze to Sirius and Harry. SIrius was talking with Harry about school and Quidditch while essentially ignoring his own flesh and blood. Regulus knew exactly how ALi felt in that moment because he felt it too when Sirius would push him away in favor of James. When Regulus looked at Sirius and Harry that’s what he saw. The boy hadn’t been here an hour and Sirius was already forgetting those around him like he did in school. 

Regulus was about to walk up to Ali when he heard a pecking noise coming from the window. He recognized it as the Malfoys owl and from the look on Ali’s face she did too. Regulus opened the window letting Ember sit on the still before taking the letters out of its beak. The letters were addressed to Ali and from the handwriting it looked to be Narcissa’s on one and Draco’s on the other. “Here you go Al,” he gave the owl a few treats before sending her home. 

Ali tore open Narcissa’s letter first knowing that all the important information would be in there. She was excited as this was the first time she would get to talk to her other family in weeks seeing as they were gone to France for a trip, one that Ali was invited on, but turned away in favor of hanging out with Regulus. 

Dear Alianova, 

I hope that you are having a good summer so far. I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to write, but it was incredibly busy taking care of your uncle and cousin while in France. We were meant to be home last week, but Lucius wanted to stay a tad bit longer. You know how he is for French coffee. Anyway I heard through Andromeda that Sirius was now staying with you and Regulus. How is that going, darling? I know that you were nervous when he first got out of Azkaban. 

I know that Regulus has allied himself with the Order as we are trying to stay neutral to it all. Lucius has taken a bit more convincing, but after telling him what you told me about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named being a half-blood he started to listen more. He still doesn’t like it very much, but does not wish to put myself, Draco, or you in harm's way after what happened last year. 

Draco is looking over my shoulder trying to get me to get to what he thinks is the important stuff. The reason I am writing is because I was wondering if you would like to come stay with us for a week or so at the Manor? I know that being around so many people bothers you and Draco tells me you and Potter don’t get along. 

So how about it, darling? We could go shopping for school supplies and anything else you could want. Lucius even said he missed your wits the other day at dinner. Let me know when you decide. If you would rather spend time with your father I understand as does the others. Completely up to you. 

All my love,

 Aunt Cissa 

While Ali was reading her letter Remus had come home from a meeting with Nymphadora. He saw the smile grow on Ali’s face as she read the parchment in her hands. Regulus had given him a pointed look before nodding at Sirius when he entered the room and he instantly knew what he thought would happen had happened. Remus was Sirius and James' friend yes, but he knew how it felt to be the outsider looking in on the duo much like Ali was to Sirius and Harry. 

Once Ali finished her letter and was sticking it back in the envelope Remus approached her. “Hey Nova.” He gave her a hug before leaning on the counter looking at her. “Whose got you all excited?” 

Sirius turned his attention to Ali waiting on her response. He saw her get the letter, but wasn’t sure who they were from. He watched with envy as Ali talked with Regulus and Remus freely. She didn’t act like that towards sirius. Ali was his daughter, much like Harry was his son. He was incredibly grateful to have Harry back in his life, wanting to know the boy as much as possible. Sirius felt his blood start to burn when he heard Ali’s response to Remus’s question. 

“It’s from Cissa. They just got back from France a couple of days ago and wanted to know if I could come stay with them for a week or so,” Ali smiled happily at the thought of spending time with her Aunts. She didn’t know Bellatrix, not that she wanted to, according to Regulus Bellatrix was mean and an avid follower to the Dark Lord. He had placed wards all around the house when the news of her getting out of Azkaban broke out just as Lucius and Ted Tonks did to their houses as well. Andromeda and Narcissa were closer after the Malfoy family stopped following the Dark Lord which led to Ali getting to spend time with her two cousins and her older one falling in love with her uncle Rem even if he denies it. “So can I go? Please?,” she looked back and forth between her two uncles. 

“I don’t have a problem with it, do you Regulus?,” Remus chuckled when he saw Ali bounce lightly on her toes knowing that Regulus wouldn’t say no. 

Regulus opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted, “No, you cannot go. Are you insane? Bellatrix just broke out of prison and you are wanting to spend time with the Malfoys? For all you know Bella could be there!” Sirius practically shouted at the girl who flinched backwards making Regulus scowl at his brother. 

“Yes Ali, you may go. But you have to write to me at least twice, and promise not to get into too much trouble with Draco.” Regulus ignored his brother's huffs focusing on Ali. “When do you leave?” 

“Cissa didn’t say. Just to write back my reply,” Ali started reading the letter to make sure she hadn’t missed it. 

“Well, why don’t you reply and tell her that I can drop you off at Andromedas tomorrow evening when I go pick up Dora,” Remus said fighting the blush from the looks his friend and niece were giving him. 

“Got a date uncle rem?” Ali giggled as Remus’s mouth opened and shut like a fish, “I’ll go write her back. Thank you both.” She kissed them on the cheek before heading to her room. As she climbed the stairs the last thing she heard was the yell of Sirius Black. 

“Are you both fucking insane?! You’re letting her go and STAY at the Malfoy Manor? For a week? It’s no wonder her and Harry don’t get along! She’s just like them! A snake! You have ruined my daughter!” 

Ali’s heart broke again hearing her fathers words about her. Tears ran down her face as she shut her door silently thanking whoever was listening that she was getting out of this house for a little while.

[griffxnnage]

home || r.w

pairing: ron weasley x fem!malfoy!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, draco being annoying, favouritism, being disowned, swearing, violence, injury

Being a Malfoy has its perks; the money, the fame, the status. But then again, there's the hate, the rumors, and the twat twin brother, Draco. Sure, we're siblings, but he's an entitled little git, who doesn't know when to shut his gob. Another downside is having your parents critique everything, including (but not limited to) your choice in friends; they hated that I was friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione, not only because of their house, but the fact that they were 'blood traitors' and 'mudbloods'. They also disliked me because I was also sorted into Gryffindor on that first day. I couldn't be prouder of my house, but it always stung whenever they dismissed me, focusing all their attention on Draco; the perfect child in every way.

I'd been friends with the trio since first year, and things certainly were never boring. Things really took a turn when Ron asked me to be his girlfriend in 2nd year. I, having had a crush on him since I'd laid eyes on him, said yes right away, and we've been together for almost 2 years; 2 years of heaven. He is anything and everything a girl could ask for; he's handsome, he's very caring, affectionate and protective, and his family members are the sweetest people you'll ever meet. The thing was, Mum and Dad didn't know that I was dating Ron; in fact, they didn't know anything about my life. They hardly asked, and they sure as hell didn't care. Draco didn't know either, he was too busy making people's lives a living hell (Or so I thought, but back to the story).

Anyways, the day of the Yule Ball had finally arrived, and Hermione and I, who shared a dorm, were very excited, and very prepared. There was makeup strewn across the vanity in our bathroom, and different sample perfumes in the cabinets, along with multiple dresses in both of our closets. We both found our dresses, and Hermione looked absolutely stunning in her rose coloured gown. My dress fell to the ground in yards of cream-coloured tulle, and hundreds of little crystals concentrated at my waist, making it look thinner, cascading down the skirt, and making their way up the bodice, with some on the long puffy sleeves. It was absolutely gorgeous, and I knew Ron was going to love it. He loved me in anything, really, (mostly nothing) but it was nice to dress up for once; wearing those uniforms can really get boring.

We both made our way down the grand staircase to meet our dates; Hermione was asked by Viktor Krum, and I'd asked Ron to be my date, just as a formality. I could see him in the crowd of excited students, and we locked eyes, love and admiration filling my heart. It wasn't until I made it to the bottom of the stairs when I noticed his attire, and then snorted. "Oh, lay off it Y/N, they're old. Mum didn't want to send new ones." He groaned, embarrassment evident in his face. "Ron, you look lovely," I smiled, shaking my head, and kissing his cheek. McGonagall came over to fetch Harry and Pavarti to open the ball, and upon seeing Ron, she had to do a double-take. I couldn't hold back my snickering, and McGonagall just looked away, not knowing what to say.

After the formal ball was over, The Weird Sisters came and changed the whole mood of the ball; it actually started to feel like a dance. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I all danced together like madpeople, jumping up and down, screaming, just having a grand old time. We'd been dancing for a couple hours when the first slow song came on, and all the people without dates walked off the dance floor to catch their breath. Harry left as well, even though he had a date; 'I guess he's just having a bad night,' I thought to myself.

I felt a timid tap on my shoulder, and turned to see my boyfriend, clad in his colourful robes, holding out his hand, bowing slightly. "Might I have this dance, m'lady?" He purred, making my heart flutter. "Yes, of course, kind sir," I played along with his act, breaking character when he pulled me into him by my waist. I put my chin on his shoulder, and he nestled his face into my neck. "You look amazing, love," I could feel his breath on my neck, and his hair tickled my cheek, the intimacy making me blush. "You look ridiculous, Ron," I laughed against him, and he chuckled, playfully nipping at my neck.

We danced and talked for a few more slow songs, until Draco decided to make an appearance. "What the hell, Y/N?? Why are you dancing with the blood traitor? Don't you have any shame? Father will hear about this!" He sneered, looking back at the people who started to watch. "Draco, please, don't do this here. Let's go outside." I pleaded, anxious to get out of there. Ron instinctively moved in front of me, protectiveness in his nature. "Well, actually, Mother and Father have heard about it; they won't let you come home. They disclosed it all here, in this letter." The fact that he was happy when he handed me the parchment sent a shiver down my spine. "Please tell me he's lying, Y/N." Ron sounded helpless, something I wasn't used to hearing.

As I read the letter, my heart sank as I found that Draco had been telling the truth, and that I was 'no longer a Malfoy' according to my parents. Draco smiled, satisfied with my defeated expression. Ron looked at me, hopeful, but I just shook my head and looked at my high heels. Draco started laughing and teasing me, other people jeering him on. It was all I could do not to cry then and there, until Ron took me by surprise, taking a swing at Draco, socking him right in the jaw, making Draco drop to the floor, clutching his face. The fact that Ron would throw the first punch took me by surprise, and I stole him away before Draco or any of his goons could retaliate, with Harry and Hermione in hot pursuit.

"Ron, what were you thinking?!" I yelled, worrying like crazy. "He was talking shit, what do you expect? I broke my bloody wrist, for Merlin's sake!" He held his arm, and my whole mood changed; he really did that for me? I made him go to the Hospital Wing and see Madam Pomfrey, which left me with Harry and Hermione. "Y/N, don't worry, we’ll always have your back," Harry put his arm around me, and Hermione grabbed my hand, patting it and giving me a kind look. They led me back to the common room, for us all to get ready for bed. Once we were all calmed down for the night and relaxing on the couches, Ron decided to show up, all fixed up by Madam Pomfrey.

He gave Harry and Hermione a look that said, 'Get the hell outta here!'. I waved goodbye, and opened my arms for Ron to come cuddle. As he was playing with my hair with his unbroken hand, he was whispering in my ear, "Y/N, you know I'm always here for you right? I'm always here, darling," I sat up from lying on his chest, and looked him in the eyes, "Of course I do, Ron. I'm here for you too, love. Do you know that?" I held his face gently, encouraging eye contact. He looked at me with those gorgeous blue-green eyes, and promised, "Of course, Y/N." With that, he took my chin, looked at my lips, and kissed me gently. The kiss was short, but he immediately went back in for another, this one longer and full of love, and understanding.

"Y/N, I have a question," He asked when we both came air, panting. I nodded, beckoning him to ask. "So I sent an owl to my mum when I was getting fixed up by Pomfrey, and she responded right away. Since, you know, you won't be staying at Malfoy Manor anymore, do you want to come live with me and my family at The Burrow?" Tears welled in my eyes; this gesture was too kind, too selfless. I'd never experienced anything like it before. I nodded my head like crazy, wanting nothing more than to live with him, and actually have a place where I feel safe, where I feel free. I flung my arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, which he gladly returned, whispering to me how proud he was, and how excited he was to start a new chapter with me. When he kissed me for the millionth time, I knew that I made the right decision of having him in my life; he just made it so much better, so much brighter. I finally felt hopeful of a future where I'll be happy, and I knew he was going to be in it for the long haul.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Eight

“Merry Christmas Eve Morning.” Ginny calls excitedly from her bed, smiling over to her friend. 

“Merry Christmas Eve Gin.” The bushy haired witch smiled from behind the book she was reading. 

The blue eyed girl leapt from her bed and quickly tugged back the purple curtains. At the sight, she squealed. 

“Look it’s snowing!” Ginny pointed out the stacks of white powder and small flecks from her spot. 

In turn, Hermione managed a genuine smile at her excitement. The brunette had known it was snowing, being she woke hours ago, unable to go back to sleep, but she was happy to see Ginny this way. 

“It’s brilliant. A white Christmas.” She told her friend. 

“Wicked!” The younger girls exclaimed, before turning and circling Hermione’s camp bed, “now get up.” She almost demanded. 

“Gin, I,” she started, coming up with some excuse as to why she couldn’t leave the room. 

“Nope! Mum makes a special breakfast every Christmas Eve morning. If you don’t come down, well, I’ll send her up to get you!” Ginny grins evilly. 

Though the threat of Molly coming up here is a scary one, she’s still reluctant. Ginny can sense as much. 

“Hermione, honestly everyone's missed you. And Ron,” she pauses to meet her friend's brown eyes, “he’s been worrying himself sick.” 

“He has?” Granger chokes pathetically. 

The red head nods, “yeah, just last night he was going on about how he’s worried about you hanging out in the garden, scared someone might see you.” 

“That’s ridiculous. Dumbledore put up the wards himself plus the apparition line,” she begins, trying to think why Ron would care. 

“An apparition line that extends to the pond. Exactly what we all said, but he was still a wreck. Merlin, I thought he was gonna pound Fred’s face in!” 

“Fred? Why?” She asks, confused. 

“Made some dumb joke about death eaters coming by to get you. I swear he would’ve punched him if Charlie hadn’t stepped in.” Ginny tells. 

Hermione’s at a loss, “why would he care?” She knows the answer, she’s just not willing to accept it given everything. 

Ginny stared at her for a moment before letting out a nervous huff of air, “come sit.” 

The pair plopped ungracefully onto the mattress. 

“I told Ron you snogged Viktor Krum.” Ginny admitted so fast that she wasn’t sure the other girl even heard. 

She did. Her face paled. 

“You-you what?” Her voice was nothing but hurt, no anger, somehow that felt worse, “you know I didn’t. He kissed me, I said no. It was the type of kiss your Mum gives you when you're five.” 

“I know that! Merlin, I know, I was just so angry.  He had caught me with Dean and he was going on about what people would say if I went around snogging so many boys. Then I just wanted to hit him where I knew it’d hurt...” she admitted shamefully. 

“Ginny I really wish you hadn’t done that. I understand Ron was out of line but I told you that in confidence!” Her voice was rising despite telling herself to calm down. 

“I know, I feel awful if that makes a difference Hermione.” She began to cry. 

The brunette didn’t comfort her, but she didn’t yell either. 

“It’s all my fault. All my fault.” She repeated groggily. 

“What is?” Hermione dared to question. 

“Everything! If I had never said something so stupid to Ron then I reckon he’d never have dated Lavender. Then you two would be friends and wouldn’t be so miserable. I’m sorry Hermione, I’m so sorry!” Ginny rarely cried, and here she was close to hysterics. 

Caving, Hermione grasped the younger and tucked her into her chest, allowing her to sob. 

“It’s okay Ginny.” She soothed. 

“No, it’s not!” Weasley retorts fiercely. 

At this, the sixth year pushes her shoulder back so they can make eye contact. 

“Am I happy you told that to Ron? No, but we can’t fix it now can we,” Ginny opened her mouth, no doubt to apologize, until Hermione went on, “and if Ron did in fact pursue Lavender because of that, well that’s not your fault. That’s his.” 

It’s ridiculous. Six years of friendship thrown away because someone pecked Hermione two years ago? Since she first saw Ron and Lavender together, she’s allowed herself to be angry, not sad, angry. However, why this news would push Ron into another’s arms baffles her. 

Merlin she’s oblivious. 

“I told him after the truth, I told him it wasn’t even a snog and that you had said no.” Ginny said next. 

“What did he say back?” She was scared to ask. 

“That he was an idiot that he had been trying to chuck Lavender.” 

Hermione scoffed. 

“Honestly I think he was trying.” The ginger said through sniffles. 

“Not from what I saw the morning we left Hogwarts,” at Ginny’s scrunched brow she went on, “well I caught Lavender telling Won-Won that she’s in love with him.” She said bitterly. 

“So? She’s mental!” The girl reminds. 

“Maybe so, but I heard Ron open with the fact that he had to tell her something, that he’s been trying to for weeks and didn’t know how. Next thing I hear is Lavender saying those three words so...” she’s sad again. 

“There must be more to it.” Hermione wasn’t convinced, “no Hermione listen, he found out about what Lavender’s saying, about the common room, about McLaggen.” She said the last name quietly. 

“What?” She barely got out, horrified. If Ron didn’t want her then he surely wouldn’t now, not with Cormac’s hands already burned into her skin. 

“He didn’t know about any of it, not until I rowed with him, that day when your parents owled you.” 

She remained silent. 

“He was livid Hermione, absolutely angry. Angry at Lavender, McLaggen, himself! Trust me, I know my brother and never have I seen him so guilty in my entire life Hermione.” Ginny finished. 

She chose not to elect the information that Ron had apparently told Lavender it was done. This was because, one Ginny hadn’t known the details behind it, and two, it didn’t feel like her place. She’d gotten into enough trouble running her mouth when it came to her brother and Hermione. 

Again, silence came over the room. It stayed this way for a few tense minutes. 

“To answer your earlier question, it’s because even though he’s daft and even though he’s got a hundred mistakes to make up for, I think he really does love you.” The red haired girl whispered. 

“What?” Hermione asked confused, brown eyes meeting blue ones. 

“To answer your question about why Ron would care enough to beat up Fred. That’s why.” 

“I don’t think so Ginny.” And Hermione doesn’t, not at all. She just can't allow herself to even consider it. Not when he’s broken her heart then stomped on the shards. 

“I know,” she said, voice full of conviction, “and one of these days, so will you.” She almost swore. 

The older witch let the words sink in. Again, she didn’t believe what Ginny had to say but it really sounded like Ginny believed the words fully. That could mean something, right? 

Officially over thinking of this entire headache of a conversation, Hermione stands, “come on.” She whispers. 

The gingers' puffy blue eyes meet her own in confusion. 

“We have to go to breakfast.” She points out. 

A relieved smile sits on the youngest Weasley’s face, “we’re okay?” She asked tentatively as she stood. 

The brunette nods, and she really means it. Anyway, she can’t worry about being upset with Ginny. Not when she’s preparing herself to have her first meal with the Weasley’s in days. 

... 

Ron doubted Hermione got him a gift. Not that he expected one. 

However, he couldn’t help but allow himself to think of how wonderful it would be if she joined them for breakfast. 

That would be a gift within itself. 

Here’s to hoping, Ron thought as he plopped down on his designated chair. 

Nearby his Mum operated the stove as Charlie gathered drinks. Bill had subtly pulled out Fleur’s chair as the twins erupted with laughter. His father was talking to Harry about something in The Prophet. And Ginny, well she wasn’t down yet. Ron was hoping she’d arrive soon. 

With Hermione. 

Suddenly the soft pitter patter of feet sounds down the wooden steps and Ron swears he hears two sets. 

A stupid swell of hope erupts deep within his chest as he perks up and peers over to the doorway. 

His heart jumps at the sight. 

Behind his little sister is her. She’s donned in pajamas, a tradition set by his mother, flannel bottoms and a loose navy jumper. Her hair was arranged into a plait at the back of her neck as a few loose curls framed her face.

And it’s like seeing her for the first time, or looking at her like he did that night at the ball. 

Merlin, she's gorgeous. 

“Hermione dear!” Molly practically squeals, abandoning the stove and pulling her into a tight embrace. 

Hermione responds quickly by snaking her arms to the oldest woman’s back, it felt nice. After so many days of feeling sad about things in France, things at Hogwarts, to be hugged by the woman who's like her second mother. She finally felt home. 

“Mum let her breathe.” Ginny scolded gently as she sat down next to Charlie. 

With watery eyes, Mrs.Weasley pulls away, keeping the brunette at arms length, “sorry, it’s just so lovely to have you join us.” She says with a watery smile. 

Knowing all eyes are on hers, that his eyes are on hers, she smiled sheepishly, averting her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been feeling the greatest.” 

Ron has the sudden urge to ask why, despite knowing the answer. He just wants her to be okay. It’s instinct at this point. 

“That’s okay love, we’re just happy to have you.” Molly smiles softly as she gently pushes her to an empty chair. 

And of course, like the Weasley siblings had planned it (which they had, Ginny had made sure this happened), the only seat was next to Ron, between him and his father, who was head of the table. 

As she slowly plopped down, she caught his blue eyes. Ron offered her a small, warm smile. And surprising to him, she returned it. Hers had been more forced, stiff, awkward, but it was something. 

In fact, he had felt like he could fly after the look of acknowledgment from her. So much so, that he had turned to face her, mouth opened and ready to say something. Anything. 

But of course that never happened, why would it? The universe clearly has some secret agenda against Ron Weasley and his happiness. 

“Bacon Ronnie?” His Mum interrupted from behind him, tray in hand. 

“Uh, sure Mum.” He grumbled, trying not to sound as angry as he felt. 

Clearly, that didn’t work, because his mother shot him a glare at the tone. Nonetheless, Ron ignored it and grabbed the prongs and began placing some food on his plate. 

Seeing this as an opportunity, he took it before his Mum could, “Hermione?” He asked softly, eyes nervously flicking between her and the tray. 

“Sorry?” She clearly had been zoned out and surprised that Ron had spoken her name. Something she hasn’t heard in too long. 

“Would you like some bacon?” He’s as red as a beet. Everyone’s now watching the pair of them. It would’ve been awkward had they not been so focused on the other. 

“Oh if it’s not a bother.” She blushed, voice just above a whisper. 

He beamed at her, smile a little shaky from the nerves but still genuine, “no bother at all.” He is assured as the youngest Weasley boy places three pieces on her plate. 

He knew Hermione always ate two pieces of bacon at breakfast, but he also knew she hadn’t been down for a meal in days. 

“One more for good luck.” He told her shyly. 

At this Hermione tinged pink. The knowledge that Ron knew how she took her breakfast. 

Her surprised, round, brown eyes looked to his soft blue ones. For a while they just stared at the other, trying to get a read on the other. 

Did he really remember that? Maybe he does pay attention to me. Maybe Ginny was right on some level, he must care, if not a little. Maybe there is hope. 

She’s looking at me isn’t she? I can’t remember the last time she did that. Merlin I missed it. I miss her. I wonder if she knows. I’ll make sure she does. 

So lost in thought, they hadn’t even noticed Molly carefully slide the tongs from her son's hand as she made her way to her husband. Doing her best to strike conversation so her children would look away from the pair. 

“Gits!” Ginny exclaimed, spitting up her drink back into her cup. 

Just like that their moment was over. 

“What even is that? Goblin piss?” The girl questioned her twin brothers, who just continued to snort. 

“Of course not Ginevra! Fred said. 

“Just a bit of that stuff that comes out of that plant in the garden.” George adds. 

“Ugh!” Ginny says disgusted, “Mum!” She yells, wanting the boys to answer to someone. 

Molly sighed, “let’s just enjoy a nice breakfast. I’ll get you more juice Ginny.” 

In response, the girl rolled her eyes as the twins high fived through a laugh. 

Soon after Mrs.Weasley had gotten Ginny a regular glass of pumpkin juice, things seemed to calm down. Soon, everyone was talking amongst themselves. Charlie tells Harry about Romania, Fleur and Molly about the wedding, the twins and Bill about the shop. Hermione however, never chipped into any of the conversations. 

Ron, of course, noticed, but he wasn’t the only one. 

“Hermione have you heard from your parents?” Ron heard his father ask, drawing him away from listening into Harry and Bill. 

She dropped her fork and squirmed a little in her chair, “I had written them my first day here, they got back to me but it was just to let them know they had arrived in France.” The witch informed sadly. 

“Anything since?” Arthur questioned gently. 

“Well I’ve written them everyday,” she began optimistically, but her tone soon shifted, “but they haven’t gotten back to me. So no.” She shook her head as she spoke.

Mr.Weasley opened his mouth to comfort the poor girl, but his son beat him to it. 

“I’m sure everything’s alright Mione. No news is good news, right?” Ron tries rather weakly, worried she may snap like on the train. 

He hears her suck in a sharp breath and he’s worried he’s done it again. However, Hermione begins to simply nod and tries to smile. 

“I hope you’re right.” She almost whispers. 

Suddenly a warm hand finds the top of her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “whatever happens, we’ll be here.” Arthur tells her warmly. 

Doing her best, the pathetic excuse for a smile grows on her lips, unable to push any words past her lips. 

Thankfully, Charlie calls out to his dad, asking a question about some ministry policy, gathering the man's attention. 

“You do know he’s right.” Ron leans in and whispers low in her ear. Enough to make her jump. 

She turns to look at him puzzled. 

“That whatever happens, we’re here. All of us are.” I’m here for you, I hope you know. Even after everything, I’m always gonna be here. 

Hermione seems to pick up on the double meaning as her eyes water. 

“I’m not sure what I know anymore. I really don’t.” She admits to him, the most open she’s been in months. 

And just like that, his heart breaks for her all over again.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Step 2: Being Vulnerable

From 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger

Step 2: Being Vulnerable

At this point, you've likely put some serious effort into getting to know the witch in question. If she's opened up to you, and allowed you to see her true self, you must grant her the same privilege. Let her get to know you too, so she can make an informed decision as to whether or not she wants to be charmed by you.

---------------------------

Hermione was still fast asleep next to him, snoring adorably. He would make fun of her for it tomorrow, and like she always did, she would deny she snored. He remembered how surprised she was the first time he told her she snored. He had mentioned it so casually because he thought she already knew.

Later, she admitted that it had embarrassed her. She had no idea that she snored every night, and was mortified to think he'd heard it every time they'd shared a bed. He took immense pleasure in knowing something about her that she didn't. He wondered if she harbored any secrets about him that he had yet to learn. He smiled at the thought- that she knew more about him than he did. Years ago, that thought would have terrified him.

He looked down at his book and ran his fingers over the first words of the second chapter, Being Vulnerable. He didn't fully understand it's true meaning when he first read it, but now it made perfect sense.

Ron was quite proud of how he and Hermione had let go of their inhibitions and could just be themselves around each other. He no longer felt the need to impress her- she loved him, and it would take a lot to change that.

Just a few days ago, they were curled up on the sofa, watching one of Hermione's favorite muggle movies. He loved muggle movies, and this particular one deeply moved him. At one point, he had tears falling from his eyes, unable to hold them in, and Hermione simply handed him a tissue box without breaking eye contact with the telly.

Last year, when Hermione bought him a pensieve for Christmas, he immediately poured some of his early memories into it, and took her on a tour. It didn't even cross his mind to tamper with them, filtering out the most embarrassing parts to save his pride. He could have avoided her seeing him panic the first time he found a spider in their flat, or learning exactly how she appeared in his late night dreams as a teenager, but he didn't even think about it.

A few weeks after they moved in together, Hermione had come home early to find Ron singing in the shower. He did it everyday, but this time he had forgotten to cast a muffliato charm. Later that night, she encouraged him to serenade her with his very own rendition of Celestina Warbeck's A Cauldron Full Of Hot Strong Love- he'd done it in the shower, why not now? He could have been mortified, but it didn't phase him at all. He tried to make it as enticing for her as possible, dancing, and slipping off his clothing as he sang to her. He wasn't sure how attractive his strip tease was, but it was successful, so what did he have to be embarrassed about?

He smiled at the memories. It all demonstrated an ease of vulnerability that he'd begun to take for granted. It hadn't always been like that.

******

Once Ron realized that there was a wealth of information that he didn't know about Hermione, it turned out to be quite easy to fill the gaps. Anytime they found themselves alone together, any looming silences in their conversation were quickly mitigated by an inquiry about her favorite childhood vacation spot (Paris), her favorite novel (Pride and Prejudice), or any hidden talents or skills (Playing the piano and speaking French).

Like he almost did with step one, he nearly glossed over step number two. Be vulnerable? Let her get to know you? She knew him. Didn't she? He wasn't exactly hiding anything. At least, that's what he thought.

He let the question of how well she knew him linger on his mind, and soon enough those opportunities to be a little bit more vulnerable started to surface.

The first instance was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. He was a few butterbeers deep, and had just watched his eldest brother profess his love in front of their entire family and friends. If Bill could do that without breaking a sweat, how hard could it be to ask Hermione to dance?

There were many opportunities to ask, but Ron wanted to wait until the right moment. Unfortunately, that plan went out the window when Viktor Krum landed in the seat next to Hermione, and turned to her, ready to ask her himself. Ron forgot all notions of timing when he felt his fists clench, and his ears turn crimson red.

"Come and dance," he spluttered.

He winced when he heard himself say it. It didn't even sound like a question, but a command. Although it was not how he planned it, and sounded nothing like "Hermione Granger, will you please dance with me?" he was still pleasantly surprised, giddy even, when she accepted his invitation.

As they danced, he continued to gather information, asking her details about the last wedding she'd been to- cousin Ellie's wedding, if he remembered correctly. He learned that she wore a mint colored bridesmaid dress, she had nearly tripped over her heels while walking down the aisle, and Ellie's dad had too many whiskeys before his speech, and no one could understand it.

They continued to dance and engage in lighthearted conversation until she asked him a question that he wasn't prepared for. "Are you still jealous of Viktor?"

Ron narrowed his eyes across the dance floor where Krum was talking animatedly with a disguised Harry. He felt heat rising up his neck, and that familiar pit of envy settled heavily in his stomach. "No," he lied. "I was never jealous of him."

Hermione stiffened in his arms, and he grimaced at himself. Why did he have to deepen the lie? "Well I was way back in fourth year," he clarified, "but not anymore."

It was still a lie, and he knew that. He was pretty sure she did too.

"So that's not why you invited me to dance?" asked Hermione.

Ron cleared his throat. "I was going to ask you either way." He gulped before he continued. "And I wanted to ask you before he did."

"Why is that?" she asked. She wasn't going easy on him.

He knew his face now resembled an overripe tomato, and if he didn't think about his words carefully, he'd stutter though his answer, so he started slowly. "Because, I was worried you'd prefer to dance with him." He exhaled relief when he felt Hermione squeeze his shoulder affectionately.

"You have nothing to worry about," she assured him, settling more comfortably in his arms.

Ron felt his face slowly returning to it's normal pale and freckly shade. He knew how he felt. Why was it so difficult to tell her?

There were more moments like that, when Ron found himself resisting the growing intimacy between them. Even though he craved more closeness with her, it also left him feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. He knew he should lean into it, but too often he felt himself putting up his guards, even though he didn't really want them to be there.

He was bedridden for a few weeks when he nearly lost his arm in a splinching accident disapparating from the Ministry. He felt helpless. He couldn't even take his own shirt off. In an effort to assess the damage, Hermione levitated him to a bed in the tent, and started gently tugging at the hem of his shirt.

It wasn't how he'd imagined her undressing him for the first time- his fantasies typically involved less blood and more dignity. He responded by squirming away from her hand, and using his good arm to jerk the hem of his shirt out of her grasp.

"Hermione, stop," he said through gritted teeth, wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

"Ron, please, I need to see how bad it is." Her voice was panicked, her expression harried and pleading. "Please let me."

Ron grimaced as she reached a second time for his shirt, but again, he shouldered her away. "I'll do it," he told her firmly.

"Ok, ok," said Hermione, pulling her hands away defeatedly.

Ron tried to wiggle out of his shirt, but gasped in pain the moment he tried to lift his splinched arm. The blood from his shoulder soaked through the fabric, which adhered to his skin, and he knew he needed a second hand to get out of it. It made complete sense to let her help him, yet something in the back of mind told him that it would change things.

He feared that she would find him unattractive, or even worse, helpless and weak. Yet he knew he needed assistance, and she was willing, so he swallowed his dignity and nodded his permission. She gently pulled his shirt over his head, holding his injured arm steady as he closed his eyes which burned with painful tears. He tried to control his breath, willing himself not to cry in front of her, because that would only make him look more pathetic.

The feeling of helplessness from that night didn't go away. Instead it continued to build, growing stronger every day Hermione had to help him change his bandages, or they had to delay their plans because he wasn't strong enough yet. He was beginning to feel like a deadweight, holding his friends back from what they really wanted to do.

He knew somewhere deep down that their concern simply meant that they cared, but he managed to convince himself that was a burden, and that they would be better off without him. He bottled up those feelings for weeks until he couldn't anymore. Then he was left with two choices- tell them how he felt, or leave them alone.

After weeks of being tended to by an increasingly stressed-out Hermione, who was now privy to this helpless side of him, and countless nights overhearing her and Harry whispering behind closed doors, wondering how much longer it would take him to recover, he felt he didn't have enough dignity left to tell them anything. He'd asked enough from them already, and didn't need to burden them further with his petty fears and insecurities. So he decided to leave.

His argument with Harry confirmed his suspicions- that he wasn't wanted or needed. But a flickering of doubt came from his final words with Hermione before he disapparated beyond the wards.

"Ron, why are you doing this?" She had followed him outside into the pouring rain, the water weighing down her bushy hair, making it appear almost too heavy for her head to carry. "After all we've been doing for you?"

Ron clenched his jaw, and felt his face turn red, this time in anger. "After all you've done for me?" He spun around to face her, looking her directly in the eyes. "You didn't need to do any of that."

She took a step back, narrowing her eyes skeptically. "Yes, we did Ron. You would have died. You needed our help to recover."

"I can take care of myself," he said through clenched teeth, his hands forming fists. "I never needed you."

Her eyes widened in shock, before her gaze softened and glistened with tears. "I was happy to do it," she said softly. "Always."

For a brief moment he wanted to stop everything and run to her, to hug her and tell her it was ok, and that he was thankful for her help. But something stopped him, and told him that Hermione respected a man who could take care of himself, someone who didn't burden her with his problems, someone like Harry.

"Well now you don't have to," he said.

And then, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 10

ao3 || ffn

A Step Further

Ron gently set Hermione down, and she broke the kiss long enough to shed the wet towel that was still wrapped around her body. Hermione sat back on the bed and reached out, bunching Ron’s shirt in her hands as she pulled him on top of her. His lips found hers again as he felt her hands move from his chest to around his neck and into his hair. Merlin, he could get used to feeling her fingers intertwine with the locks of his hair.

Hermione didn’t hesitate when she quickly moved her tongue into his mouth. The more comfortable they became with each other, the braver each got. She grazed her teeth across Ron’s bottom lip and bit down gently as she grabbed his shirt and pulled it upwards. Ron had to shift himself slightly as he helped her take his shirt off, but he feared there was ultimately no hiding what she did to him in the thin cloth of the swimsuit he still wore.

Her arms wrapped around his now bare back as she pulled him closer to her, the bare skin of their torsos now barely touching. Ron felt himself groan into her mouth at the connection. He felt her hands hesitantly explore the expanse of his back as he found his own hand trailed down to her hip, pulling her even closer to him, no longer caring if she felt how she made him feel as he was completely intoxicated by the feel of her.

As they continued to snog, Ron couldn’t help his own hand beginning to explore her body. He was caught between the raging hormones that fueled his desire to feel every inch of her soft skin, while the tiny, rational part that was left of his brain was sounding the alarm of not moving too quickly. His hand moved above her hip and grazed her stomach. He stopped when the tips of his fingers reached the edge of the bikini top.

He pulled away from her lips briefly. “Can I?” he asked. He didn’t want to assume she’d be okay with this.

Hermione bit her lip and averted his gaze. “I- I do want you to, but...”

Ron pulled away slightly more to get a better read on her body language. “Hermione, if you’re not ready, I’m fine with that-”

“I am ready! I just…”

He didn’t quite understand, and that worried him. He could normally read her well, but he couldn’t place this worry. “What is it?” he asked her gently. “Please tell me.”

“It’s barmy. I shouldn’t even let it bother me,” she said, still avoiding those blue eyes that both made her heart melt and would get her to tell him anything if she wasn’t too careful.

“But it is bothering you, and until you give me a straight answer, I’ll respect it as a no,” Ron said firmly as he pulled his hand away from where it was resting on her stomach and sat up. 

Hermione covered her face in her hands as she let out an audible sigh. She already missed the warmth of his hand and body near hers, and regretted even sort of bringing it up. She knew she wouldn’t get him close like that until she told him, though. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.” 

Her voice sounded muffled through her hands, but Ron heard her insecurities loud and clear. This was about Lavender. Would that part of his life ever not come back to bite him in the arse?

“Hermione,” Ron started. He was trying to find the words to say to ease her worries. “There’s no comparison.”

He watched as her hands left her face and he gave him a strained look and a distressing cry left her lips.

“No! I didn’t mean it like- ugh, Hermione! She doesn’t compare to you! She never did and she never will. Merlin, I shouldn’t be telling you this-”

“Then don’t. Ron, do you know how many nights I had to listen to her brag about what you’d done in empty classrooms when they thought I was asleep? I think Parvati started to feel bad because eventually she  seemed less and less interested after a while.”

“What? Hermione, I didn’t know. If I’d have known-”

Hermione shook her head as she cut him off. “You don’t have to lie. We were fighting so badly, you wouldn’t have defended me to her. It’s bad enough I had to hear about your romantic Valentine’s evening where you, and I quote, ‘sealed the deal’ with her.”

“Wait, what?” Ron was staring at her blankly as his head was whirring with a thousand thoughts. “She didn’t say that we- that we- Merlin, Hermione, I never had sex with her!” It wasn’t often that his face and neck became flushed in addition to his ears, but he was beet red from what looked like anger right now.

“Y-You didn’t?”

“Bloody hell, no! I avoided her the entire day! Not that I’m proud of it, but I didn’t get her anything, and she kept pestering me in class about disappearing to an abandoned classroom to celebrate that night. I lied about having rounds and hid in the kitchens to get some schoolwork done.”

Hermione let out a mixture between a laugh and a cry in what seemed like relief. “I can’t believe I let her get to me. No wonder Parvati was trying to get her to shut up! She knew she was just doing it to get to me. And to think I cried myself to sleep for a week after hearing that.” She finally sat up on the bed.

“You didn’t…” Ron’s guilt expanded at her admission.

She nodded. “And that was after I’d made my New Year’s Resolution to get over you. Six weeks later, and I’d clearly failed.”

“I’m sorry,” Ron told her.

“You don’t have to apologize for her actions, Ron,” Hermione said.

“No, but I’m apologizing for my own. I never should have used her to get back at you.”

“Get back at me?”

“Er, yeah…” Ron wasn’t expecting to bring that up at all, but it slipped out. Though he supposed it was going to come up eventually.

“Ron, I’m going to need you to explain, please.”

“Right. Er, remember when I got mad at you and didn’t speak to you?”

“How could I forget? Are you finally going to tell me what I did?”

He winced at the memory that was long since shoved into the back of his brain. “Ginny and I got in a row. A bad one. Bloody hell, if Dean and Harry weren’t there, it probably would have turned violent…”

“Ron…”

“Er, yeah, anyways, we caught her and Dean snogging behind the tapestry to one of the shortcuts. I was already in a right foul mood from practice and that just set me over the edge. I may or may not have gone all overprotective brother on her, and she may or may not have called me out on being the only one who hadn’t snogged anyone.”

Hermione eyed him carefully. “What do you mean?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“She so bluntly threw it in my face that Harry had snogged Cho and you’d snogged Viktor so I needed to get over her snogging Dean.”

Ron held his breath as he watched Hermione’s reaction. She was taking a bit longer to process his words and that was making him nervous. “That still doesn’t explain why you shut me out for a whole week.”

He couldn’t tell if she was playing dumb just to hear him say it, or if she really didn’t know. “I got really angry over it. Harry seemed like he knew what Ginny was talking about. I’m not proud of it. Not after everything had been going really well between us. I was mad that you never told me, and jealous that I- well, admitting that will just make me a bloody prat.” Ron shook his head.

“Say it.”

“Why?” He looked at her nervously. Where was the crazed look he was expecting to see in her eyes? She simply raised her eyebrows, but didn’t elaborate. “ Fine, I was hurt that I wasn’t your first kiss. Are you happy now?” Ron rolled his eyes slightly.

An odd smile crept on Hermione’s lips, and Ron was preparing for the worst now. “You know, it’s a shame you didn’t just ask me about it.”

He waited for her to continue and when she didn’t, he said, “Okay, two things. Do you really think my sixteen year old self would have walked right up to you and asked if you’d snogged Viktor? And why are you smiling about this. You’re scaring me a bit.”

“I’m smiling because I’m finally relieved to know that none of this was my fault. And you really can be such an idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’d have bothered to ask me, you would have learned that Ginny exaggerated.” 

There it was. That triumphant look she’d get when she’d solved a particularly hard riddle, or when she’d outsmarted a teacher. It was also the same look she had after she’d punched Malfoy in the nose third year. “What?”

“Your sister was lying. Viktor kissed me, yes. I won’t deny that. A few times, actually, but it was always chaste, and it never deepened into anything more. I tried to like it because he was sweet and genuine, but there was no spark. And he respected that when I told him I wasn’t interested in him like that. Unbeknownst to me, but my heart already belonged to a certain red-headed git whether I wanted it to or not.”

“So, was Viktor ever actually your boyfriend?” Ron asked, completely astounded.

“No, you prat!” Hermione threw a pillow at his face. “He wanted to be, but I declined. I was waiting for you! And instead of going to Slughorn’s party together where I’d hoped that maybe something could happen between us that night, I had to wait another year and a half for anything to happen because of your pig headedness!”

Ron was expecting her to be furious, and yet after she’d finished explaining her side of the story, she broke into a fit of laughter. It was contagious and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. When they’d settled a bit, he said. “Sounds about right for us, taking forever to sort things out.”

Hermione nodded. “Maybe it was supposed to happen this way.”

“That sure would make it easier to forget all the lost time we could have had together,” Ron agreed.

“But that’s what makes it our story, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, and now we have our entire lives ahead of us,” Ron said. 

He felt his heart speed up and his stomach flutter at the thought of spending the rest of his life with her. His eyes sought hers, and Ron hoped she knew how serious he was about that statement. There was no way he was going to waste this chance he had with her.

“We do,” Hermione said breathlessly as she locked eyes with him. 

It only took one glance down to his lips from her before he leaned in and kissed her hard. They both fell against the pillows, settling on their sides as they quickly found the rhythm they’d left off with before. As Ron moved his hand to a more comfortable position, Hermione pulled herself away briefly.

“How far did you really go with her? I’m sorry I’m bringing this back up. I don’t really want to know, but I need to know,” she tried to explain.

Ron nodded slowly. He understood what she was saying, and he’d want to know the same if he were in her position. “There was...touching, but it never went further than that, I swear. She tried to go down on me once, shortly after Valentine’s Day, but I didn’t let her. I couldn’t. Once the initial lust of the relationship had died off, I realized pretty quickly that she wasn’t what I wanted. Or she wasn’t who I wanted it with. After that, I spent half the time imagining she was you when we’d snog and my eyes were closed. Not that it even comes close to this. Merlin, Hermione, you have no idea what you do to me. No matter what you’re thinking, you have to know that what I had with her will never come close to how this feels.”

He waited for Hermione to process his words as he searched her face. When she finally took a breath, she whispered a quiet, “okay,” indicating that she believed him. Ron never took his eyes off her as he waited for her to make the next move. She leaned in to capture his lips with her own, and he felt her hand find his. Where he expected her to simply intertwine her fingers with his own, he was surprised to find her guiding his hand up her body, and settling over her breast. 

He looked down as she pulled her own hand away and let it rest on his hip as she pulled back slightly and whispered, “You can go under if you want.”

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to mess this up. She nodded against him as he saw her look up and met her eyes with his own.

Ron kissed her gently then, as he adjusted his hand to make it more comfortable. It took a while to overcome the awkwardness of feeling each other in an intimate way, but once they passed the initial unease, they spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other on a deeper physical level. For the first time, Ron understood that intimacy didn’t mean sex. Far from it. He would be perfectly happy spending any alone time like this so long as it meant he had Hermione in his arms. 

A/N: Don’t hate me too much y’all, I did promise this was going to be a slowburn, after all.

[unluckyopossum]

I Need A Place I Can Rest- CH 2 

Viktor Vector x Fem!V

Vik wants to fix things for V more than anything. V just needs somewhere to feel safe.

This chapter romance is acquired by the two idiots who struggle to appropriately discuss feelings.

Read on AO3

A jarring electronic ding broke the silence in the cramped elevator lobby. Vik had been waiting, shuffling back and forth anxiously, for what felt like an eternity. Desperately hoping he was being led to V and not a pointless chase by his guide. His only company was the small hairless cat sitting patiently by his feet, occasionally looking up at him in a way that made Vik feel the cat knew more about his situation than even he did.

The lift doors finally creaked open and the ripper darted inside slamming the roof button as soon as it lit up, the doors closing slowly again behind him. As the elevator began it's achingly slow ascent he glanced down, surprised to see the cat again. He hadn't even noticed it come in, or move at all for that matter. Maybe the little guy was just as worried about V as he was, V always being one to give the alley cat a scratch and a snack. As he bent down to give his little helper a scratch on the head, he realized he hadn't even taken off his exo-glove in his rush. Taking a moment to finally pay attention to what he was wearing he felt he looked a little disheveled. Exo glove on, shirt loose from where v had grabbed it, sunglasses on in the dark; But V had seen him like that plenty of times, and there was no time to feel self conscious now. No time to worry about how V would feel about an old man confessing to her. An old washed up legend no one even remembered. The cat mowed again sounding almost stern. “Right, now or never, nothing to lose” he said aloud, clearly only for him .

Another ding sounded and the elevator groaned to a halt, shuddering slightly. The tightness in his chest and urgency with which he scaled the last flight of stairs to the open rooftop felt like his old boxing days. Entering the ring for a fight he wasn't prepared to win, but he hadn't backed down from any of those fights either. V was higher stakes than any of those matches had ever been, more important to him than his pride, that was for sure. Rounding the corner to Misty's special retreat he heard a familiar voice, but an unfamiliar sound coming from it.

A soft whimpering fluttered through the air, barely audible over the street noise below the building. Vik was halted in his tracks by the scene in front of him as he started to exit the stairwell. V sat in one of the red plastic porch chairs Misty had set up, staring at the roof edge in front of her, lips moving and occasionally gesturing to empty air. Red neon reflected off the tracks of moisture in lines down her cheeks. She hung her head, back hunching and shaking as the sounds of a few sobs escaping her lips. Before Vik was able to move forward her head lifted back up out of her hands and she looked back at the empty space at the edge of the railing.

" God I'm so fucking stupid Johnny, what if he hates me now, or thinks I'm dumb, and a waste of his time. Just some stupid gonk brained kid." her voice was shaky in a way he had never heard before. Even with all the injuries and pain she had shown up in at his clinic, her voice had always stayed steady. Even after the news of the relic… losing Jackie... he hadn't ever seen the merc cry.

" I know, I know, 'just grow a pair V, if not now when.'" she says in a deeper almost mocking tone.

" Well there's no way he is interested in me Johnny, that's why" an exasperated sigh escaped her, a frequent occurrence in her conversations with Silverhand.

" Well I at least wanted to be his friend for the little time I have left you ass, and I blew that too" between each sentence a pause hung that Vik could only assume was Silverhand’s response. Her voice seemed to be rising slowly as the conversation moved forward and the ripper didn't know if it was his place to interrupt them.

" Not everyone thinks like you Johnny, that only works in BDs and I highly doubt Vik would be into something like that"

Like what? … whatever the rocker was telling her he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but couldn't help but be curious.

" Look Johnny, you can tell me not to care what he thinks as much as you want but I can't help it, you know as well as I do how I feel about him and... fuck I just don't want him being disappointed in me "

Finally seeing a place to step in Vik stepped out from the stairwell overhang walking towards V, trying to convey confidence with his gait.

"Could never be disappointed in you sweetheart" he passed by the empty chair next to V, instead kneeling in front of the merc. Obscuring her view of Johnny if he had judged his location right, hoping to have her focus solely on himself. She sat lips just slightly parted, eyes wide in surprise ,and a startled sputter all she managed to respond with. Vik pushed his shades up on his head, wanting to see her without anything getting in the way.

" V your the strongest woman I have ever known, how do you think I could be disappointed in you" he smiled up at her, green eyes shining so bright she could almost see her reflection in them. His gloved hand came up to her knee giving her a gentle squeeze, one that could normally be taken as supportive or just for comfort if he had moved his hand after. But he didn't, he left it firmly in place, the skin under it felt surprisingly warm for the cool night city evening.

“Scared? now that I could be… not that it’s easy for me to say sweetheart. I don’t want to lose you V, and I didn’t want to put more weight on your shoulders by making you worry about my feelings.” his bare hand reached up to wipe the streaks of tears off her cheeks. It was hard to tell with only neon illuminating her but he thought they were a bit more flushed than they had been.

“Look V you clearly know I’m no good at this, and I’m real sorry about that. I’m going to do my best though and try not to fuck this up.

“ Vik what are you” She stuttered out trying to wrap her head around everything that was happening. Still stunned that the ripper had come after her at all after she had thrown what she considered to be a childish tantrum in the clinic.

“ First I need to apologize V. I know I was mad about Silverhand, maybe even jealous, but I didn’t need to take that out on you.”

Jealous… she caught onto that word, latched on even. She couldn’t quite grasp what Vik could possibly be jealous of Johnny for, the gonk was dead and stuck inside her head with a terrible personality. She didn’t even consider that it could be all the time Johnny got to spend with her, the quiet moments at night, even waking up and feeding the cat together.

“Not being able to fix this, well it kills me V. I just want to protect you, keep you safe and not being able to do that is harder than I ever could have thought. I thought not saying anything would be part of protecting you, making your life a little more simple when things were goin crazy. Looks like I was wrong though and I should have told you how I feel a while ago.”

A pained expression came over her face as it crumpled up with a loud sniffle from her. “Vik… I have wanted to say something for so long, but you shouldn’t… you should want to be with me.”

“V why, I know it’s not my strong suit but I want to listen. I know the two of us have had a hard time speakin about these things but now sure seems like the time” He had given her knee another squeeze and placed his free hand on her forearm resting in her lap. Partially because he just wanted to touch her, but also due to the look of cornered prey she had as the concept of having to share her feelings and be vulnerable for once. He hoped the touch would be some comfort and connect them in a way. That squeeze seemed to be the only thing needed to break down the floodgates as tears began to slowly run down her cheeks again as words started to tumble out of her mouth with barely a breath in between.

“ Vik we both know I’m basically living on borrowed time with my own body as a death bed, stuck in my own head as I lose myself, even though Johnny wants out. He’s the only one I can even talk to about all this because when I have tried to bring it up I can't make myself speak. I’m so scared of pushing you away Vik, so scared of telling you too much and you deciding you can’t be around me. Because who would want to be with someone who might be Johnny Silverhand at any moment. I’m so scared to love you Vik but it’s way too late for that, I want you so much, and it makes my heart hurt constantly because I try to keep away from you, which you know doesn’t last any time at all. Even in the worst times I have when all I can see is my own doom, I'm thinking about you Viktor Vector, and it's just not fair of me to put this on you. It’s fucked but I just want to spend the little time I have with you” She finished with another loud sniffle having to take time to catch her breath.

Vik took the pause as the perfect opportunity to stand and lean down to wrap his arms around the smaller woman. His impressive size may not have been as useful for his ripper work as it was for boxing, but her frame being completely enveloped in his arms made her immediately lose some of the tension she had in her. That he thought was more important than anything else.

“V you aren’t putting anything on me I don’t want, wish I had realized we felt the same way ages ago. I think I’m old enough to decide if it’s worth it to be together too, and for me it is V. It’s going to take way more than the relic to keep me from being into you V, but I’ve known that for a long time.”

He stepped back giving her a little space as he rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed to admit how long he had wanted her and not said a word.

“ We’re going to figure this out V so you better count on that ‘little time you have left’ being a lot longer than you think.” A familiar smirk spread on his lips “ but if you’ll have this old man I’d spend every second with you that I can”

That finally got a smile to lift her wet cheeks as she stood to meet him, throwing her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. He head buried in his chest momentarily before looking up into his eyes, caught by them again, a frequent occurrence for her.

“ Vik you do know you aren’t even that old right? I mean just look at Johnny and Rouge, you don’t even want to know what Johnny tried to get up to with her… oh that was supposed to be private apparently.” Vik let out a deep chuckle, his hands moving into place on her hips, fingertips idly playing with the edge of her pants.

“ So Vik, even if I’m right and I don’t have much time left… would you spend it with me?”

“You don't even have to ask sweetheart, you know I will, and I’ll be here to listen even on the worst days”

“ you do know Johnny is gonna be with us every step of the way until we get this sorted right? Well of course you know.... But is that okay?”

“ Well maybe he could give us a bit of private time” He said with another smirk as she blushed furiously” V, dealing with Silverhand is a very small price to pay for being with you”

“ He said it should be an added bonus.” she giggled and smiled at him, the blush still lingering on her cheeks '' Johnny promised he would figure out a way to fix me so you can keep patching my dumbass up forever” the widest smile graced his face since he had found her, the idea of dealing with V forever was much more appealing than she could know.

” Fine, I'm holding you both to that sweetheart. Though as your ripper i could recommend being a bit more careful in your next fight.” The deep rumble of his laugh shook through his chest with her head still resting gently on it.

A tug at the back of Vik’s neck pulled his head down slightly as V stretched up to reach him. Her lips brushed his so lightly it took him a moment to register the kiss. Once it fully clicked a soft groan escaped his lips and his fingers tightened holding her waist firm and he met her lips once more. This time he met her lips passionately, firmly pressing their lips together and pulling her hips towards him so their bodies were flush against each other.

A meow at their feet broke them apart to look, both panting and flushed. The cat looked impatiently up at V clearly wanting something from her, as she shuffled her feet feeling suddenly rather embarrassed for initiating the kiss as reciprocated as it was.

“ Shit Vik, I gotta feed Nibbles, and I’m still covered in blood. I should probably head home for the night… feed this one on the way out.”

She stepped back, having to look away from him now or she didn’t think she would be getting off that roof tonight. She was clearly about to make a move to leave when Vik caught her wrist.

“ dinner tomorrow” he said, still sounding almost out of breath.

“What?”

“Let me make you dinner tomorrow, like you know… an actual date”

A grin popped onto V’s face immediately, never thinking those were words she would get to hear the Viktor Vector say to her. Words she had wanted to hear so badly.

“Deal, my place after you close up” She leaned up once more giving him another quick kiss before practically skipping to the elevator, cat on her heels. She was practically unrecognizable as the woman he had watched sobbing not much earlier, her mood clearly turned completely around.

Vik sunk down into the plastic chair letting out an exhausted sigh, still stunned at everything that had just happened. He tried to wrap his head around V actually being into him and trying to calm down from how flustered V had made him with their kiss, glad she hadn’t seemed to pick up on it.

The fingers of both hands rubbing his, he had suggested making dinner for V but definitely had blurted it out before really coming up with a plan. Figuring out what to make was his first order of business as he got up to head home and begin his recipe research. Next would be what to wear, and that would require a consultation from Misty. He had almost forgotten about her, she would be overjoyed after pushing him to say something to V for months, probably even more so when he told her the rooftop retreat had been the spot where the tell finally happened. The elevator dinged to let him know it was time to head back down to the streets and he stepped in, happy to be going home for the first time in a long while. In fact, he realized he hadn’t been this happy in longer than he could remember, finally feeling optimistic about what was to come because him and V would be facing it together.

[solari-writes-things]

Succor

 🛑 WARNINGS: Language, graphic depictions of violence, mild self-deprecation. 🛑

✨ requested by: -

✨ Pairing: Viktor Vector x OC

✨ Summary: Vik checks in on a good friend after she has a traumatic experience.

✨ Solari Says: This came to be through @sazafraz​ and I talking over Discord. I got her permission to write this out, and I hope you all come to enjoy it!

✨ Prompt(s) -

#35: You don’t have anything to be sorry for.

#80:  Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.

gif credit: to the OP

MORE VIK | MORE CP2077 | > MASTERLIST < |

Talia could count on one hand how many times she felt her palms begin to sweat. She could count on one hand the amount of occurrences left her with a chill down her spine. That left her in a sort of dazed panic, searching for any sort of excuse that could easily explain what she was experiencing. In any of the other scenarios, it seemed to have worked.

In this one, it didn’t.

Instead her hands trembled harshly, her right hand keeping as solid of a grip on the hilt of her hammer as possible. No matter how much her palms encouraged her hold to slip, no matter how much her hands seemed to vibrate, her hammer never slid through her fingers.

There was a loud, harsh screaming, a sound that Talia Song had been no stranger to. The lucrative business that she had built for herself made sure of that. Xuanwu was a name that floated around Night City through the mouths of gangs, a bit of a legend she had developed due to her own actions against Arasaka. Stealing high-grade cyberware, ripping through rampant gangs that stirred the hornet’s nest. She kept Night City under control, more efficiently than the NCPD ever had.

Mostly because she wasn’t afraid to cave heads inward.

She felt a shaky breath leave her lungs, her eyes staring at the bodies that were strewn across the ground. Some were whole, some had less fortunate outcomes. No matter how much blood painted the concrete red, no matter how many arms and legs were scattered around the ground, nothing could ever amount to the dread she felt watching the Cyberpsycho.

It wasn’t the ferocity in his movements. It wasn’t the raw power behind each innocent that he ripped apart that shook her to her core.

It was some form of familiarity that she felt in the pits of her stomach. Something... Something about this rabid man, jerking his head from side to side to search for something felt so familiar. It wasn’t until he turned to her, his attention on the shivering woman with a hammer in her hand, that made her heart drop to her abdomen.

“Where...!” the Cyberpsycho cried out angrily, turning toward her to ensure that she suffered the same way as those crumpled around him. “Where is she...?!”

Talia knew. She knew, somehow, what they had been speaking about. Who they had been searching for.

She could only remember flashes. The long, dark hair. The polite, brown eyes that they had been blessed with. How kind they always seemed, gracefully flitting around the monochromatic office. An office that Talia once called her own home. 

He was looking for her mother, who had passed when Talia was just a child.

She almost choked, wanting to call out to the Cyberpsycho in hopes to get him to stop moving towards her. Her shaky left hand found it’s way to the handle of her hammer, the weapon quivering in tandem to herself.

“Dad...” she practically whispered.

She thought he had died. She remembered him, as the Ripperdoc who worked for Arasaka. They utilized him for their own benefits, upgrading those they had under their employment. However, he once left for a task that the corporation had given him. Another assignment, that’s what the Song family was led to believe. Until he never came home.

Talia had been a teenager, when he disappeared.

Here he was, his eyes crazed. His body holding no sort of human instinct in the way that he stood, the way that he approached. Any sort of kindness that the man once had, the kindness that Talia remembered, it had been gone. He was an animal, lost and trying to find his way. However, as much as she had hoped she would be the one to provide a solace, he wouldn’t recognize her. Not with the amount of changes she had given herself. The large scar that run down the left side of her face made her much different than she had been when she was a teen.

The crazed man in front of her didn’t seem to acknowledge her quivering. Her whispers into the void, calling out to him. He only lurked closer, his eyes boring into hers with hostility. It sent a shiver down the back of her spine, perfectly tracing the cherry blossom tattoo she had in the same place.

She adjusted her arms so her hammer rested in a fashion to where she could swing hard enough to bring him down, steadying herself for a fight that she knew would inevitably come.

“Please,” she pleaded, just a bit louder so he could hear. “Don’t make me do this.”

He only continued his belligerent march towards her, practically snarling as he closed the distance.

She raised her hammer in preparation for a hard swing, eyes welling up with tears of reluctance. “Please...” she whispered once more, hoping that this would be the thing to trigger his stop.

He doesn’t. Instead, his slow approach turned into a sprint, and soon he began to move faster than Talia could see normally. His shape was nothing but a blur, a haze that moved in the directions that he would dash.

All to make sure she couldn’t get a proper reading. But all too bad, she was much used to other enhancements such as this. She knew all about the movement, and how to predict the arc of her swing.

So while choking back the lump that formed in her throat, she swings her hammer forward. There was a loud crack, as it connected to his chest. She follows through with the rest of her power, bringing him to the floor. He practically snarls as he hits the floor, causing her to almost choke on her panic.

The rest of the fight seemed like she was seeing through textured glass. It was hard to breathe, between the hard hits that he landed on her and the tears that seemed to never stop. Every single impact that she felt, a few more would streak down her cheeks. What she could always do so easily to others, felt like weight would sink on her shoulders when she did to him.

She wanted to save him, to hug him. Tell him that everything would be okay, and that she would find a way to help him that wouldn’t involve shipping him off and leaving him to be scared and alone.

But she couldn’t. The way he continuously tried to rush her down, tried to disarm her by attempting to break her body. He wanted to kill her, and she knew there was no hope in talking to him to save her own life.

So she worked at him. Diligently and diligently, she withered away his stamina so that she could have him laying on the concrete. It took quite a long time, wearing away at herself in the process. However, her determination made it so that she lasted.

So he lay on his back, feral but tired, like a stray and scared animal. As much as he wanted to scramble up and beat her, his body would give. So he could only lay there, his hostile eyes searing into hers. She choked down a sob, her hammer brought up next to her head to swing downward.

She didn’t want to do this. But she didn’t want him to suffer, not anymore. She could only imagine the horrors that he had gone through, his cyberpsychosis leading him to search for her mother blindly. It was more than a decade later, finding him again, and she didn’t want to think about how many of that he spent in torture.

Her face contorts into raw sorrow, another shaky breath pulling into her lungs. She shivers again, trying to choke back the sob that boiled up inside. “I’m so sorry...” she whispered.

Her hammer was brought down.

She could only feel the physical manifestation of white noise. Absolute nothingness, radio silence in her mind. Her office wasn’t open, she ignored every message and every call.

It had been three days since she had killed him. She felt that she was sparing him pain, in the moment, but the more her emotions dwelled the more she felt it was murder. 

She remained unmoving, body tucked in the mass of blankets on her bed. Her eyes stared at her cherry blossom bead curtain, staring at the details that shown in the dim light. She elected to ignore her hunger, in trade of staying stationary. She had no motivation to stand, to get herself something. She would do it eventually, it’s what she had been doing the past two days.

Ignoring, until it becomes too loud for her to wave off.

She hears the hatch that led to her living quarters open, causing her to jolt upright. There was only one person that she ever gave access to her home, that knew exactly where to enter in order to reach her at her most vulnerable.

Viktor.

Her heart began to race. She had ignored his calls, his messages checking in on her status. She had a day planned with him, when she investigated the Cyberpsycho attack. Watch old flicks, eat some Chinese take out. Just a day, between the both of them, to enjoy the company in more ways than one; it usually led to it.

“Talia?” he called, his voice concerned but gentle. “This is the only place that you could be... Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer, pulling her knees to her chest and tightening her eyes. She wanted to keep ignoring him, for him to disappear. Anything, to not see her like this. To not see her as this shriveled, broken woman. It wasn’t anything that he’s known her to be. He knew her as confident, headstrong. A badass in its full form.

She was none of those things, now.

She could hear his footsteps, moving for her bead curtain. His large silhouette, just shadowed on the other side, slowly approaching. She watched as his hands push through, pushing the curtain apart to reveal his face. His frown was not one that was scolding, but of worry.

She couldn’t tell if she wanted to scream or cry in his presence. 

So she does neither. She just stares, choking back on the noises that threatened to escape her mouth. She  watches, as he now was at the foot of her bed. He rounded the side, taking a gentle seat to her left to see if she would reject him. She didn’t.

“Talia, what happened?” he asked.

“I...” she tried, but couldn’t finish the first time. So she inhales sharply through her teeth, before trying again. A sob threatened to escape this time, but it didn’t. “I investigated a Cyberpsycho attack nearby, and...”

“And?” he inquired quietly, placing his tinted glasses to the side so he could examine her expressions.

She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping to her lap. There was shame in her eyes, twisting her expression into something that Vik couldn’t bear to see. “I’m sorry...”

He saw the tears beginning to streak her cheeks, seeing her in pain brought a pang in his chest. He didn’t like the idea of her crying. He didn’t like the idea of her suffering, it made him anxious and angry at the same time. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Please, just tell me what happened.”

Her eyes finally traveled up to look at him. He always found it fascinating, the two different cybernetic patterns she had: one white, with a black ring to imitate the iris and one a solid black, with a red X in the center. However, the little details of her face was not the important thing.

“Do you remember our talk, Vik..? When I finally opened up to you about my childhood, about my parents...?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah...?”

“Vik, the Cyberpsycho... it was my father...” she whispered, the long-awaited sob finally breaching into the open. “And I killed him...”

Viktor was silent, as the gravity of the situation began to settle on his shoulders as well. He figured it was something serious, Talia had always been prompt about answering her calls, but something about this felt so different after three days of whole silence.

He contemplated coming, and he was saddened he didn’t do it sooner.

“Holy shit, Talia... I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, one of his strong arms resting over her shoulders.

He waited for a moment, to see if she would shove him away. She didn’t, and he proceeded to bring her closer to his side. She obliged, moving towards him, and when she was close enough he brought her into a gentle hold.

She almost melded into him immediately. Something about Vik’s very calming personality made it easy for her to relax around him. She sighed, her body shaking. It was like she had just experienced it, all over again. The haunting moments where she had to end her father’s suffering.

“No... I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “I should have called you... You didn’t deserve to be left like that, wondering all this time...”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, his arms moving up so his hand pressed against the back of her head. He gently pressed her head against his chest, pressing a gentle and comforting kiss to the top, “your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” 

More tears escaped her eyes, followed by loud sniffling. The tears dripped down, staining the front of his shirt. He didn’t mind, though, not in the slightest. He was just here to help her, now. Help her find some form of solace, some form of peace with herself. He reaches up with one of his arms, gently stroking the side of her face to wipe away more of the tears that dribbled their way out.

Her arms finally moved from their place around her chest to wrap around him, pulling herself so that she felt secure. Because now this was the one, true safe place for her.

“I feel like... I feel like I should have done something else...” she whispers quietly, taking comfort in the gentle strokes of his hands.

“Like what, Talia...?” he questioned quietly.

She listened closely to the hum of his voice emitting from his chest, the sounds of his heart beat. “I should have let him go through the stupid fucking therapy thing...”

“I... I don’t know if that would have worked...” he muttered softly. “You told me it had been decades since you’ve seen your father... Cyberpsychos, they’re long gone by two years, tops...”

She clutches his shirt gently, not wanting to hear something of the nature.

But he was right. He was absolutely right about that. Her father would have just suffered longer, trying to become a human again.

“So what do you suggest I do, Vik...?” she whispered, a genuine question.

“Stop hating yourself for your decision, Tali,” he prompted. “You... you did him a favor, whether you see it that way or not. And... let me stay here. Take care of you. You need it, even though I know you don’t want to admit it...”

She lets out a small exhale into his chest. Once again, Vik was correct. She had to live with this, somehow. She wasn’t going to be able to continue her duties in Night City, if she decided to wallow like this forever.

It would take several days, though. Several days of reclusive behavior, to ensure that she was okay to step into the public again. But she had to heal, and if she had to heal with help of Vik, she would gladly accept.

If there was anyone that she would trust herself to, it would be him.

So she sinks, into the comfort that his presence was slowly beginning to envelope her in.

__

Cyberpunk Tag List: @sazafraz :|: @tsumethedrifter :|: @angelaiswriting :|: @kind-wolf (if you wish to be added to the tag list, please comment or message me!)

[fumbling-fanfics]

Imagine having a second child with Viktor Drago...

So I wrote this because @lady-olive-oil was insistant on killing people off, lol. Love you Liv!

I also kind of forgot I wrote this so there was more I wanted to write but I forgot those parts.

**********************************************

You weren't meant to give birth so early. But here you were sitting in a nice relaxing bath, Lily on the bathroom floor drawing more pictures for Viktor while you soaked. If you were honest the contractions had started early in the morning, but they varied between 4hrs and 3 minutes apart. So you had ignored them. But now it was 2 in the afternoon you were pretty sure you were having contractions - the proper ones.

"Lily baby, can you pass mommy here phone please" her little head popped up beside the bath with a big smile. "Are you going to ring daddy? Can I talk to him?" she asked as she disappeared out of the bathroom.

Viktor should have been the one you were going to call but he wasn't.

"I'm going to call Aunt Jenny" you smile kissing her forehead in thanks letting her get back to her drawing. "I'll make Aunt Jenny a picture too" she states, paper rustling about. You pressed the call button next to Jenny's picture (a picture of her and lily at the beach) and waited for her to answer.

"Thank god you called. I'm so tired, I'm literally falling asleep at my desk… What's new?" she sang.

"Code Red" you whispered down the phone.

"Huh?" you can hear the frowns of confusion on Jenny's face. "Oh, Lily, I can go get her from preschool" you could here her moving around more on her end.

"No, Lily's here with me-"

"Hi Aunt Jenny!" Lily called from the floor, voice echoing off the bathroom tiles.

"Oh" Jenny was frowning again.

"The other code red, the new one. The second one" you watched Lily for a reaction but she was absorbed back into her drawing.

"Shit" Jenny shouted.

"Shit, shit, shit! SHIT! Are you sure? It's not those fake ones, those pickle hiccup contraction things" she panicked, you could hear things being knocked around and a draw open and then slam closed.

"You mean Braxton Hicks, and no"

"You're not due for like another 2 months, I'm looking at my calendar. It says on my calender" you could hear her voice go up an octave in panic. You were pretty sure she was also poking the calender too.

Jenny was down as your second birthing partner, after Viktor of course. But since Viktor was away for a fight that was still wasn't due for another 6 weeks, Jenny had happily (and in a drunken state) assured Viktor she'd be your number two should anything happen. But it would be fine because nothing would happen because you still had two months to go.

"I know, I know...Can you maybe come anyway, and maybe it'll be fine by the time you get here"

"Of course, I'm leaving now" she hung up quickly.

"Will Auntie Jenny bring me jellies" Lily asked, pencils poised in her hand.

"Maybe" you laugh, glad she oblivious to what's happening.

By the time Jenny arrived you were out of the bath and sitting in the living room on your yoga ball wondering if you should call Viktor or not.

He'd flown back to the states to fight again, and really concentrate on getting ready as this opponent was almost equal in size to Viktor. You knew if you called him he'd freak out and even fly back (or walk if he had to).

"(Y/n)!!!" Jenny practically screamed, slamming the door closed. You could hear her but not see her. Lily sprinted off to find her Aunt, and reappeared on Jenny's hip.

"Are they for real?" she asked looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I think so, they've just got worse"

"Auntie bought me jellies!" Lily waved the box and then wriggled out of Jenny's arms and ran off. At least she was occupied.

****

“Is it okay to make a call?" you asked in the back of the ambulance. The female paramedic nodded as she carried on writing things down.

Jenny was following in her car with Lily and your hospital bags.

You pressed the call button and held the phone against your ear. There was a series of tial tones, including the international one.

"Hello" it was a quick, short answer.

"Ivan, it's y/n" slight relief washed over you hearing his voice.

"Hello. You want to speak to Viktor?"

"No, no, no, no, no" there were too many no's for Ivan's liking - he felt worried but the fact you weren't crying and he could understand you made him worry a tiny bit less.

Ivan said something in Russian but you couldn't hear, it was muffled, like he had his hand over the mouthpiece. There was the sound of a metal door slamming closed and then silence.

"What's wrong?"

"The baby, its early" there was a long pause from both of you - you both didn't know what to say.

"I'll get Viktor"

"No don't...I mean I know he needs to know, but not right now. You know he'll get on the first plane back, won't think twice about the fight. I can't let him do that." Ivan said nothing but also agreed. But he also wanted to tell his son. Congratulate him, tell everyone in the training room - he had another grandchild.

"I'll let him know it was all my idea not to tell him, just try and act like everything's normal. Please?“

“Are you okay? Are you at the hospital?" the concern in Ivan's voice broke you and you started to cry.

"I'm fine. I'm on my way in an ambulance"

"Are you on your own?" he sound panicked. "Where's Lily?"

"She's following in a car with Jenny" Ivan remembered Jenny from when she came to the beach that day. Ivan was struck by how caring Jenny was with Lily - making sure she ate and drank enough while still having fun.

"She must call me" you nodded even tho Ivan couldn't see you.

"Here" the paramedic handed you a tissue to dry your eyes. "Don't worry, everything's gonna be okay"

***

Olivia May Drago, born 2 months early but otherwise healthy.

Jenny had called Ivan to let him know everything was okay - you were okay, Lily was okay (but probably had new found profession as some sort of Antinal Nurse specialising in premature babies) and that Viktor's new baby girl was okay too. It was only when Jenny came back into the room, an hour later did you realise she had been talking to Ivan for an hour. "He's so funny, Ivan" she said with a smile on her face. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at her as she peered into the neonatal cot to look at Olivia. "Did you just say Ivan's funny?“ you asked, maybe the drugs were making you hear things." Yeah, the jokes he cracks. But otherwise he says he's glad everyone's okay. I said I'll call him tomorrow"

"You should go, it's late" Lily had crashed out on the bed in the room reserved for partners to sleep on.

"No way, do you know how hard it was to get this parental leave. HR officially hate me, so I'm going to use every moment to stare at this beautiful girl" she cooed, picking up Olivia from her cot.

Lily had been born 4 weeks early, so Jenny had fought tooth and nail to have the right to use shared parental leave to help you look after Lily and the baby assuming Olivia would be born early too, despite not actually being a parent to either. She had initially demanded full maternity leave, but had settled for 3 and a half weeks "shared parental" leave. "That's what they get for not having a watertight policy" she'd smugly smiled sipping non alcoholic wine with you when she told you when you met her for lunch just after Viktor left to prepare for the fight.

You were trying not to cry but the harder you did, the quicker your eyes filled up with tears. So when you blinked they came streaming down your face. "Hey, don't you start crying because I'm gonna start crying again" Jenny moved to perch on the edge of your bed still holding Olivia.

"I know you feel bad, but don't. Everything is okay, you're okay, baby's okay. Lily's okay. I'm okay" the last part made you laugh and you brushed the tears away.

"But we need to make sure Viktor's okay, and that means not telling him just yet because we app know what will happen. I'll just keep taking a million photos and videos so he has stuff to watch. Here, hold her" Jenny passed you Olivia and grabbed her phone to take pictures.

"Do I look a mess?" you asked, aware that not only had you given birth 6 hours ago but you had also cried one too many times. "Actually, you look so good. Which makes me slightly hate you" she placed her phone down and then made grabbing hands at Olivia. "My ovaries hurt when I don't hold her" she blushed.

***

You where now sat in the hotel suite that had been reserved for Viktor. Lily was laying on the floor - half on top of the fluffy rug, half off - drawing more pictures for Viktor. You were sure she was on over 100 at this point, but it kept her occupied, you enjoyed listening to her stories behind them and writing them on the back of the picture for Viktor to read later.

She was currently drawing the picture of him winning his current fight - the one that was meant to start in 45 minutes.

You were sat on the overly large sofa breastfeeding Olivia, after having to shout at Buddy Marcella and the entourage he brought for you to leave. He'd brought a nanny with him - just in case you wanted to leave Lily and Olivia to go watch the fight. He was driving you crazy more than usual.

You didn't need help, you just needed space and for not a single soul to mention to Viktor that he had an earlier than expected baby girl he'd never seen. You'd also spoken to Ivan at length who had been extra hard and stubborn on your behalf making sure everything and everyone would be perfect.

***

Just as the fight started Olivia woke up with a cry. You half didn't mind as she'd been asleep for a long time, as if she was waiting for the perfect moment to announce her presence in the world. She was very quiet for a newborn.

You noticed that Viktor seemed to be fighting differently, quicker, even harder, like he just wanted it to be over.

But that wasn't surprising. When Viktor had agreed to the fight, there were a few additional requirements that Buddy had added in. Endorsements and a whole bunch of extra PR stuff, including promo stuff with Adonis Creed.

"Hey!" you called to Buddy. He turned around with that stupid grin on his face. "Just remembered my husband's a person and not just your cash cow" he'd then proceeded to try and butter you up but it didn't work.

***

As the ring filled with people from either team and the official referee to call the match you spotted Buddy climbing into the ring. You held your breath as you watched him whisper something to Viktor. Ivan appeared and pushed Buddy away, but you could see Viktor was getting impatient and just wanted the result said. You watched Ivan place his hands on Viktor's shoulders and he calmed down a little. The referee appeared and the camera angle zoomed back showing Viktor and his opponent standing either side of the referee.

You didn't let your breathe go until the referee held up Viktor's arms and the crowd cheered. Lily jumped up dancing around with her picture in her hand. "Told you daddy won" she wiggled her hips side to side and threw the picture in the air along with her crayons.

***

Now you felt sick. Sheer panic and you tried to organise your thoughts and your words to explain to Viktor that you were sorry for not telling him that Olivia had come early, that you cried after every phone call with him because you wanted to just tell him. But you were glad that you didn't, that there were no distractions.

"Lily, come here please" you call, her silence not always a good thing. She skips from the bedroom, her face covered in melted chocolate. Then she stop rigid, eyes wide. "Daddy!“ she screams, sprinting past you. You turn, this isn't how you wanted him to find out. "Grandpa!“ Lily screeches, almost another octave higher. She doges Viktor and throws herself at Ivan.

Viktor doesn't seem to mind that Lily skipped him. He's staring at you or Olivia, or both of you as you rock Olivia in your arms. She's quiet now, as if nothing happened. He drops his bag and slowly walks closer to you. When he reaches you, he pulls you against him, his lips rest on forehead which makes you cry.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm sorry you had to do this on your own" Viktor tenderly hugs you, careful not to squash Olivia.

You pull away to wipe your face with one hand, surprised at how relaxed Viktor is. "My dad told me. I made him when I saw he had a lot of calls from Jenny, I thought something was wrong" you looked to Ivan, but he was busy cleaning the chocolate from Lily's face.

***

Everything was calmer. Everything was fine. Viktor sat holding Olivia, with Lily on his lap. They talk in hushed tones over a sleeping Olivia. Both falling quiet every so often to stare at the peaceful baby.

Viktor was stunned by how beautiful his second baby girl was. Her tiny nose, her tiny mouth, her ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. Lily's mind was slightly blown by Viktor telling her she was once this small, even he was too.

Together they couldn’t stop looking at Olivia. Every now and then Lily gently kissed her sister - telling Viktor all the things she planned to teach her little sister - coloring within the lines, eating jellies that Aunt Jenny brings etc, eating all the chocolate you could find in a hotel suite.

By the time Ivan got back with food for everyone, it was his turn to fuss over his new grandchild. "World's happiest grandfather" Ivan announced taking Olivia from Viktor. He sat down on the couch with Olivia while you pulled out your phone to show Viktor the million photos you'd taken while he was away.

**********************************************

Tags: @ellixthea @lovelymari4 @chaneajoyyy

@honeychicana @beaminglife @amelatonin @themyscxiras @crushed-pink-petals @jojolu @endless00paradise @est1887 @cajunpeach @melinda-january @profoundlynerdywolf @deathonyourtongue @designerwriterchic @itsbqueenthings @alicesfracturedmirror

[manage-mischief]

Picture Prefect

Read on AO3 here. 

Author’s Note: So, I’m not really sure I ship Dramione. At least, not in an endgame type of way. But, this idea came to me while rereading Harry Potter for the umpteenth time. I think there definitely could have been more to Draco’s character than was in the books/movies. I felt like it would be interesting to understand Hermione’s relationship to him, and that there was likely a bit of romantic tension/pining that may have been behind some of Draco’s actions/motivations. You know what they say about little boys and pulling girls’ pigtails on the schoolyard. Anyways, this takes place during OoTP, before Dumbledore leaves. This is also my first FF, so I’m still learning. I’ve just always thought about writing something but have been too nervous before now. Any kindfeedback or reviews would be appreciated. Thanks in advance :)

Disclaimer: I’m not J.K. Rowling. I own nothing.

Summary: Hermione goes on evening patrol with Draco Malfoy and things progress quite differently than expected. Secrets, lies, and broom cupboards may be involved.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we,” she sighed as she descended the stairs and laid eyes upon her patrol partner for the evening.

He gave a noncommittal grunt in return. Uncharacteristically pleasant this evening, she noted. Without a word, the pair set off past the Great Hall and got to work.

When Hermione had first discovered she was going to be a prefect for Gryffindor House last summer, she had been thrilled, but not surprised. She had top marks in all of her classes, and a (mostly) clean disciplinary record. Sure, she, Harry, and Ron had had a few run-ins with the wrong side of the law. Still, there was, at least in her humble opinion, no one more qualified for the job. When she found out that Ron would have the job alongside her, she had been that much happier. During the celebration held at Grimmauld Place, she had never felt prouder. Yes, she was an intelligent girl. Yes, she had even scored a date to the Yule Ball with internationally-renowned quidditch seeker Viktor Krum (and had especially enjoyed the look of jealousy and disbelief on Pansy Parkinson’s face, she might add), but this accomplishment somehow carried more weight for her.

Being muggle-born, she knew that there were some who viewed her as unworthy of Hogwarts. Some would even go to unspeakable lengths to try and force her out of the wizarding world—as she had learned the hard way during her bout of paralysis-via-basilisk during her second year. But, here she was: the top of her class, muggle-born prefect. The prefect title meant something. Anyone in her world could understand the accomplishment, and no one could deny her the honor that the title bestowed.

Ok, maybe she was a bit over-enthusiastic about the role. It did seem that, most of the time, she was nothing more than a glorified hall-monitor. Yet, she wore her badge with honor. And, as she and Ron strode towards the Prefects Compartment on the Hogwarts Express on her first day she felt that nothing could have lowered her spirits. That is, however, until she saw him. Her new colleague, leaning against a table with his usual, haughty, I’m-better-than-you-because-I’m-pureblood air, his blond hair standing out in stark contrast with his dark robes with emerald green accents. Draco Malfoy.

And so, this is how she ended up on evening patrol on this otherwise wonderful night with a boy who was, in her opinion, one of the rottenest snakes to ever roam the halls of Hogwarts.

The first time she had met Draco had been on the Hogwarts Express during her first year. Bright-eyed and bushy-haired as ever, Hermione had hugged her parents goodbye and wandered onto the magical locomotive, anxious yet elated. She had been thrown into the magical world so fast. One minute, she had been running from bullies in the park by her house as they called her a freak. The next, she was meeting with a stern-but-kindly witch who explained to her that she was talented and special. Hermione was determined to learn as much as she could about her knew world as fast as she could, so she would be able to prove herself at school. Once she set her mind on something, nothing could stop her.

Armed with countless wizarding books and a new bank of knowledge, she confidently strutted into a train compartment and took a seat. She cheerfully introduced herself to the three other young wizards already occupying the space. The others followed suit. Two large, intimidating boys introduced themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. She was pretty sure those were last names, but had a feeling that prying for more information would be futile, seeing as they had both grunted out one-word answers to her questions and then looked away. They did not seem very bright. The third boy had brilliant blond hair and smiled in a way that made her blush slightly in spite of herself. “I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy. It’s a pleasure,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Draco had been overly friendly to respond, and all too eager to converse with Hermione. They asked each other about their wands, their favorite shops in Diagon Alley, and the classes they were most excited to take. “I can’t wait for Transfiguration. I know it’s one of the more difficult branches of magic, but it seems quite fascinating,” Hermione blabbered on cheerfully. She had been very proud of herself for holding her own during this conversation. Her reading and preparation had paid off! Draco seemed to have no idea she hadn’t grown up in a wizarding household.

He smiled at her. “Well, I hope we’re sorted into the same house. It’ll be a shame if I can’t spend any more time with you in the future.” Hermione again blushed. She kind of liked Draco’s cockiness and confidence. “So,” he continued, “where d’you want to be sorted? I know where I’ll be…Slytherin. My family has been in Slytherin for generations,” he remarked, haughtily.

“Oh, I’m not sure I have a strong preference. Although, Gryffindor seems like it would be a good fit. Or Ravenclaw. I guess we’ll see,” Hermione said.

“Where were your parents when they were here?” Draco asked, eagerly.

“Oh…well…they didn’t go to Hogwarts,” Hermione replied. She didn’t know why she didn’t reveal that her parents were Muggles. She wasn’t the least bit ashamed. But, something about the boy’s mention of his Slytherin family heritage made her wary. Hadn’t she read somewhere that Slytherins were obsessed with blood purity? Surely that was ancient history. It couldn’t mean this boy believed that only pureblood witches and wizards were worthy of magical education, right? After all, with such a small portion of the population having magical blood, there must be hardly any purebloods left!

“Oh, so they went somewhere else? Ilvermorny? Durmstrang? My father wanted to send me there, says Hogwarts’ Headmaster is an old crackpot…”

“No, no. They didn’t go to any magical school. They’re muggles,” Hermione interrupted. Immediately, the tone of the conversation took a sharp turn. Crabbe and Goyle both stared at her as if she had grown an extra head. Draco sat up straighter in his seat, and where before there had been a playful look in his eyes, there was now only wide-eyed fear and accusing. “So, tell me, what makes you think you’re worthy to be here, talking about magic to me and my new friends, when your parents are so backward they probably can’t even tell a wand from a stick in the mud?” Draco sneered at her. His two cronies sniggered. Hermione knew she was not welcome anymore. She shot out of her seat, determined not to cry, and stormed out of the compartment. She could hear Draco’s voice in the distance as she quickly scampered away, fuming. “Well, boys, glad we got rid of her, eh?”

Of course, leaving that compartment was the for the best. She had met Neville and, not long after, her future best friends, Harry and Ron. Luckily, not all wizards were as closed-minded as Malfoy had been. She had not let him get to her, and since then, had outperformed him in every class. Still, she always found it strange to reflect back on the one pleasant conversation she had had with him and relate that cute, smiling boy to the absolute toe-rag she knew today.

Speaking of today, it was getting late, and Hermione was becoming fed up, fast. Her and Malfoy had only been patrolling for half-an-hour, yet it felt as if it had been an eternity. They walked in silence, keeping at least a foot’s distance in between them at all times. The corridor was silent. It was shaping up to be a long, dreadfully boring night.

They reached the first-floor bathrooms around 11 o’clock. “I’ll check the girls and you check the boys,” Hermione broke the silence. Malfoy rolled his eyes and sarcastically replied, “no really Granger? What an ingenious idea.” She simply shook her head and went to check for students out of bed. The bathroom was empty.

“Nothing in there.” She saw Malfoy emerge from the boys’ loo across the hall. “Same here.” On they went.

Half of their shift had now passed, and all they had seen was a sleepwalking Ravenclaw first-year, who Hermione had gently guided back to bed. They were passing by the statue of George the Smarmy when suddenly, she heard footsteps. She paused and cocked her head.

“C’mon Granger,” Malfoy sighed. “It’s probably Filtch and Mrs. Norris.”

“Hush!” Hermione hissed. It most certainly was not Filtch. The footsteps clicked, making it clear their owner was wearing high heels. They were approaching fast. She couldn’t ignore her gut feeling that something was amiss. But, what was it? Why did the footsteps sound so familiar to her? “Have you lost your marbles? Let’s go! It’s a professor or someone! Nothing we have to worry about!”

Aha. It was a professor. Of course. That’s why Hermione recognized the footsteps immediately. She could hear in them the haughty sense of purpose that made her loathe Defense Against the Darks Arts classes daily. Umbridge. Just as she could hear the toad-like professor approach their corridor, another pair of footsteps sounded in the distance. Umbridge must have been meeting someone. But who, at this hour?

She didn’t know why she did it. Perhaps it was because she was on edge from all of the secrecy surrounding the DA. Perhaps it was because of the wrenching feeling in her gut that Umbridge was up to more than she let on here at Hogwarts. But, no matter the reason, before she knew it, she was grabbing Malfoy by the front of his robes and pulling him into the nearest broom closet.

“What the bloody hell, Granger?!?” he hissed indignantly. At least he had the sense not to shout. Otherwise, their cover would have been blown. “What’re you playing at?”

“Be quiet,” she shushed him promptly. Quickly, she pulled out the pair of extendable ears she kept hidden in her pockets. As much as she hated to admit it, Fred and George had really hit the mark with their creation. She always kept a pair with her, and had found them to come in handy on many occasions. As she fiddled with the device, Malfoy continued to look at her, wide-eyed. “What the hell are those?!”

“Extendable ears, now, HUSH!” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “Extendable what?” “Ears. They let you listen in on other peoples’ conversations without getting caught. Now please kindly shut up so I can hear what’s going on!”

“…in this time of night. I wanted to do this privately. Most students use this corridor to snog without getting caught, so I thought it would do the trick.”

Umbridge’s girly voice echoed. Malfoy was still staring at her with a look of pure confusion.

A private meeting. But with who?

“Of course, Dolores. Do you have any updates?”

The second voice belonged to a man. She knew she had heard it before. But…it couldn’t be…

“Oh my god,” Malfoy whispered, now seemingly as invested in the conversation as Hermione had been. “What’s Fudge doing here?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. Fudge. The Minister of Magic. She was sure glad she had had the sense to hide in the cupboard, even if she was a little too close to Malfoy for comfort. She couldn’t have had him running away and blowing her cover.

The pair of them remained quiet, now both eager to hear what was going on.

“Well, Cornelius. I’m afraid matters at Hogwarts are far worse than we feared.”

“How so?”

“Well first of all, there’s the Potter boy. He and his little friends seem determined to undermine my authority at every turn! He has no respect for the Ministry. Always going on about You-Know-Who despite my countless warnings and punishments!”

There was heavy silence for a moment before Fudge spoke again.

“And do the other students believe him?”

“Some do. Others think he’s gone mad. Most don’t know what to think, and it has been hard for me to convince them to take our side, despite our efforts to disparage him in the Prophet.”

“Surely these students have more sense than to believe the word of a 15-year-old boy over the Ministry and the Prophet! Why are we having such difficulty keeping this under control? I thought I could trust you to handle this, Dolores.”

“I…I am doing all that can be done! But that’s the thing. It isn’t just Potter who has been proclaiming the story that You-Know-Who has returned. It’s Dumbledore, as well. It is not so easy to discredit the Headmaster in the Prophet. He is too well known and well respected. Students love him. Which is why I am proposing that we focus our efforts on a new plan.”

“Yes?”

“Removing Dumbledore from this school, and making me Headmistress.”

“That is quite easier said than done, Dolores. You said it yourself, Dumbledore has the respect of the student body, as well as most of the parents, I might add. Implicating him in illicit activity to remove him from Hogwarts will be extremely difficult.”

“We almost got Potter, this summer.”

“Yes, and the fact that those Dementors even showed up in Little Whinging was a happy accident! How can we expect something like that to happen again?  And at Hogwarts, no less?”

“Yes…a happy accident…well. I shall keep my eyes open for any ‘accidents’  that will allow us to relieve Albus from his post. In the meantime, you’d best be heading back to London. It is getting late. But I promise you this, Cornelius. Come hell or high water, I shall make sure Albus Dumbledore never sets foot in this school again. You can count on me.”

“We’ll see, Dolores. Have a good evening.”

Their footsteps echoed down the halls and disappeared into the night.

“I can’t believe it,” Hermione exclaimed. “That conniving little…”

“Blimey Granger. I thought you were intelligent!” Malfoy rolled his eyes. She glared daggers at him, daring him to continue insulting her. He sighed, “Of course the Ministry’s trying to oust Dumbledore! Fudge is scared of him. He thinks Dumbledore’s going to take his job.”

Hermione was taken aback at his words. She had known this information, of course, thanks to her months of living with the Order. Still, she was surprised that Malfoy knew this information, and that he had been so willing to admit it. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Draco couldn’t have come across this information by himself. What was his shifty father telling him?

“Like you even care,” Hermione tersely responded. “You and your father have been trying to get rid of Dumbledore since the day you arrived here! And probably before! You’d just love old Umbridge to become Headmistress and become her little pet.” Ok. Tirade over. Yelling at Malfoy, while satisfying, wasn’t going to do her any good. Hermione knew they should be continuing their patrol. Plus, she wanted to return to the Common Room and fill Harry and Ron in on the evening’s events. Hopefully they’d still be awake…

“You always think you know me, but you don’t.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione whipped her head towards him just before she was about to exit their cramped hiding spot. Had she heard correctly?

Malfoy gave a sad sort of grunt. He hesitated for a moment, as if considering whether or not he should continue. Hermione continued staring at him intently. She was mystified.

“You and your little Potter Protection Squad. You all always think you know me, know my story, know my life. ‘Oh, Malfoy hates everything good. He’s always out to ruin things for us. He’s a jerk. He’s the enemy. He’s evil,’” he mimicked her in a high-pitched voice. Hermione couldn’t speak, still baffled. He continued.

“For your information, I detest Umbridge just as much as you do. I just know how to be subtle about it. And I know my place. I know what happens to me if I don’t get on her good side. You wouldn’t understand. You’re from a muggle family.”

“You know what, Malfoy? I am absolutely sick and tired of you bringing up my parentage. I have as much of a right to be here as you! And I understand plenty, thank you very much! I am top of our class and work hard to prove myself to intolerant people like you and your family every single day! Don’t you forget you were impressed by me when we met on the Hogwarts Express first year! Impressed by more than just my knowledge of the wizarding world, I might add!” She spit back, her breath labored from the force of her outburst. She could feel her cheeks flushing. It had been an unspoken agreement between them to never mention their first encounter. She could see his face tint red as well.

He stared at her for a moment. Then, without warning, grabbed her by both of her arms and turned her so they were face to face, which was quite cramped due to their inopportune hiding place. His gesture was not threatening, however. He looked sad.

“You don’t understand. I…I sometimes envy that you’re from…well…your background.” He huffed. “I mean being a Malfoy is an honor. People envy me.” His voiced switched back to the shaky timbre it had been. “But…there’s certain…expectations. My family is one of the greatest pureblood lines in wizard history. Malfoy and Black. We have a reputation to uphold. My father reminds me of that every chance he gets.” His face darkened. “I have to hate Dumbledore. I have to be friends with people like Crabbe and Goyle. I have to suck up to Umbridge and support her for headmistress. You don’t understand what happens if I don’t.”

Hermione continued to stare at him. She blinked, trying to understand why and how Draco was capable of showing such vulnerability with her. He searched her face, almost desperately, for a reaction. Hermione softened her face. Perhaps there was more to him than she thought. Maybe he just needed someone to listen. When he realized her receptiveness, he spoke once again.

“Everyone in my family expects me to be like my father. Become a…” he stopped himself. But she knew what he would have said. “Well, become like him,” he carefully worded. “No one has ever asked me what I want to do. And I can’t tell them. I can’t tell my family to shove it…that I don’t want to be part of their circle! That I’m terrified of what’s coming and of what I’ll have to do!” Draco’s voice broke. Hermione remained silent, entranced. Without thinking, she took his hand gently. They both looked down at their hands, now touching. When he spoke again, he refused to meet her gaze.

“My parents were part of an arranged marriage. Even their lives weren’t their own. Everything…every bloody thing that’s ever happened in my life and before has been about blood purity. About money, and power, and respect. They expect me to uphold that tradition. I’ll marry a pureblood girl. I can’t object. I’ll be disowned. Banished. Burned off of the family tree for even thinking about, as they call it, ‘tainting the bloodline.’” He sighed once more. He finally brought his eyes back to meet hers. His stare was intense and a bit frantic. Hermione felt her heart pounding in her chest and her cheeks growing hot. Who was this boy, and what had he done with the tosser Draco Malfoy? At least she knew how to deal with him when he was being a jerk. But this? This vulnerable Draco standing before her? Her brain could not figure him out.

His voiced softened further. “I’m sorry I’ve called you names. I know you probably won’t believe me, but I truly am.” And then, it rose once more, “But don’t you understand? I have to act this way! You terrify me, Hermione. And…that just…can’t happen. I…I don’t have a choice.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The pressure in her chest was too much to bear.

“Draco. Everyone has a choice,” she whispered, softly, her eyes still locked on his.

He swallowed. Then, he leaned forward, slowly. She could feel her own body move towards his in response. Her heart pounded and her mind went blank as she felt his strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her into a kiss. She pressed into him, her body moving with his in a passionate dance. He ran his hands through her hair. She could feel her pulse rising, heat surging through her body. The pair continued hungrily for a few more moments. Then, as if on a timer, they both regained composure and pulled back from each other, panting. Hermione smoothed out her hair. Draco fussed with his now-disheveled robes. They regarded each other once again, neither sure what to say to the other.

Hermione blinked in a vain attempt to regain focus. She couldn’t deny that had been the most passionate kiss she’d ever received, including those from Viktor—who had more than once professed his love for her. But, she thought to herself, that will never excuse his behavior. He had humiliated and degraded her, time and time again. The names he had called her were almost unforgivable. Had he changed? She couldn’t be sure. But, one late-night encounter in a broom closet was far from enough proof for Hermione. After a few moments of silence, she realized he was waiting for her to speak. To say something about what just happened. Her mind was still racing too fast to latch onto a single thought.

“I’m sorry about your family Draco. That sounds very hard.”

Oh, if she could have kicked herself in the moment! Sorry about your family?!? That sounds hard?!? She felt like a proper wanker! What an idiotic response to what had just happened!

“I wish things were different,” he replied. This shocked her.

“Are you saying you want to be with me?” She inquired.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, almost inaudibly, sheepishly running his hands through his hair.

“Draco,” she sighed. This was all too much information for Hermione to handle. “I’m not sure, either. Thank you for apologizing for calling me those awful names…but…I’m not sure that’s enough. You just said it yourself. Your family life is complicated. I’m sorry. If you ever want to change, to escape, I will be here for you. And, I may even want…this…too. But, I won’t be the girl who you degrade in public and then snog in a broom closet when no one is watching. I don’t deserve that.”

Draco simply stared back at her for a long time. She could tell he was thinking. Would he really say he wanted her? Would he really change? Would she really want to be with him, even if he did? Ugh, Harry always said girls were confusing, but she was beginning to think that boys that were really the ones who were bonkers!

Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke once again, “I’m sorry. I just…” he shook his head. He glanced towards the door. “We had better finish patrol and then head to our dorms.” Under his breath, Hermione heard him mutter, “I have a lot to think about.”

Unable to form any intelligible words, she just nodded her head. The pair emerged from their cupboard and set off back down the corridor, as silent as before. When they finally parted for their respective common rooms, they met each other’s gaze once again. Draco smiled softly, “Goodnight, Hermione.”

She gave a tentative smile in return. “Goodnight, Draco.”

As she entered the Gryffindor Common Room, she was deep in thought.

“Oi, Hermione! You’re back late,” Ron shouted to her from the table in the corner, on which Harry and him had stacked piles of books and essays. In the back of her mind, she mentally rolled her eyes. Of course, they hadn’t finished their homework.

“Was patrol with Malfoy as awful as we thought?” She gave a noncommittal sigh which Harry took for annoyance. “That bad, huh? What a git,” he shook his head. He and Ron then launched into a conversation about how much they hated Draco Malfoy. Hermione did not listen. She was still deep in thought, her thoughts swimming as if she were looking at them from the surface of a pensive: slippery and liquid and not quite fully formed.

“You alright, Hermione?” Ron asked, snapping her back to reality.

“Fine,” she answered half-heartedly. “Just dead tired. I think I’m going to head to bed.”

She climbed the stairs to the 5th year girls’ dormitory, and told herself she would tell the boys about Umbridge’s conversation in the morning. Right now, she was too preoccupied with thoughts of a certain Slytherin prefect to think about anything else. As she crawled into bed and closed the curtains of her four-poster, she found herself clinging to a small bit of naive hope. It did seem like Draco was serious when he kissed her. Maybe, just maybe, people could change for the better, even people as entrenched in the pureblood movement as Draco Malfoy.

She should have known it was silly to hope for such things.

[moodyvalentinestories]

Direction – Two | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Summary: Thomas and Danielle have a conversation. Nobody dies, surprisingly. There are tears, though.

Words: 1800+

Notes: Fair warning: I'm really embracing the Hollywood U level of insanity/ridiculousness for this fic. Because I'm living for all the over-the-top drama and stereotypical villains right about now and you'll just have to deal with it. We’re not her for logic, we’re here for entertainment, henny.

❥ Masterlist

Thomas had been surprised when the address Mr Blake had given him had turned out to be an apartment building in a not-so-glamourous part of town. Though Danielle had graduated not long ago, she wasn’t poor by any means. She’d accomplished much more than seemed possible during her time at Hollywood U; had been a part of – and even produced – multiple high-profile projects, and earned what Thomas assumed must have been a great sum of money, and yet… she lived here.

It wasn’t a terrible neighbourhood – rather close to the university and, consequently, not far from his own house – and the building looked clean and well taken care of. Still, Thomas would have expected… something flashier. Or at least something bigger.

His surprise was even bigger when Danielle let him into her apartment. It was a studio, and while not tiny, it certainly didn’t offer a lot of space. The furniture – and especially the kitchen area – looked somewhat out of place, being very clearly more expensive than someone who would normally live in such a space could ever afford.

But Thomas wasn’t here to judge her choice of home or her taste in interior decorating. So he took his eyes off the Permanent Wound poster above her desk and turned to her. “Why did you do it? Are you that desperate to work with me? Because—”

“You think I want to work with you?” she exclaimed, followed by a shrill laugh. “You’re insane. I’ve seen you work. You’re a right bastard of a director, and I’d take Phelps over you any day.”

That statement hurt his pride much more than he cared to admit. Phelps certainly was not a better director than he was! How dare she even insinuate that? “Then why aren’t you pestering him to come back to the film?”

“Because—” She took a deep breath and shook her head, seemingly changing her mind. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, I would like to know what the hell you aren’t telling me!”

She nodded. “Tea, then. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Danielle walked over to the kitchen area. Thomas didn’t sit down but followed her instead. “Miss Allen, I do not have the time—”

“I lied to you, okay?” she said, sounding choked, and when she turned around Thomas could see the tears in her eyes. “I lied. There was no fight.”

“Then wh—”

“Sit. Please?”

And she looked so young then, so vulnerable, so much like the green freshman who had her first paycheck taken away by a soulless industry giant, that Thomas couldn’t help relenting. He nodded, told her, “Earl Grey, if you have any,” and made his way over to the couch. He watched her slowly compose herself as she prepared the tea, and by the time she walked over with two cups – one black and unsweetened, one with milk and sugar – she seemed to have calmed down. She set the milk-less tea on the coffee table and handed Thomas the other cup before sitting down on the chair across from him.

“Did I tell you how I take my tea?”

She shook her head. “Centaurus Lost. You’d have coffee in the early mornings, then switch to tea around noon.”

Thomas almost dropped his cup at that. Centaurus Lost. He’d nearly forgotten. “Are there pictures from the set, too?”

Danielle bit her lip, then nodded hesitantly. “Viktor doesn’t have them, though.”

“Do you have them?” he inquired.

She looked at the floor, then nodded again. “They’re safe, I promise. I never gave anything to him. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Thomas took a sip of his tea, contemplating how to get any information out of her without making her cry again. Something was wrong, he could tell, and perhaps he had judged her prematurely. Perhaps she really wasn’t at fault. Perhaps he should withhold judgement until he heard what she had to say. If she had to say anything, that was.

“You said you lied,” he ventured.

She swallowed hard. “I did.”

“About Phelps?”

Danielle closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “He didn’t quit. He was fired.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever. Why—”

“It will in a moment,” she sighed. “They – or I suppose I should say Viktor – never actually wanted me in the film. He just wanted me to bring people in.”

Thomas groaned as the pieces began falling into place. “Because you have pull with all the people he doesn’t.”

She nodded sadly. “I got Zoe and Chris on board. Even managed to get Holly in to write the script. The only person he wanted that I couldn’t – wouldn’t – get him was…”

“Me,” he finished. “You never even came to ask me.”

“Because I knew you would say no,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, absolutely. But I would have also told you to stay away from Montmartre.”

Danielle raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks. You don’t think I realised at that point that I’ve made a mistake? But I’d already signed the contract.”

“Fair enough,” Thomas conceded. It wasn’t like he could tell her she could have come to him for help. “So, at some point, Phelps comes in.”

“Yes, because we did need a director, and he’s done good enough work for Viktor in the past. Not who he had wanted, but better than no one, I suppose.”

He didn’t ask why Montmartre would have wanted him. Or Holly Chang, or Chris Winters, or Zoe Rodriguez. It was quite obvious – a show of power. Now that the hierarchy of the Silver Circle had been destroyed, he could have it all. Thomas should have known that it wouldn’t be long until a new problem would emerge.

What he didn’t quite understand, however, was how Montmartre had come to be in possession of that photograph. And, most certainly, others as well. The most logical explanation would have been that Danielle had been blackmailed first. If her time at the university was any indication, there was plenty of blackmail material to be found about her. And though Thomas didn’t want to believe she would throw him under the bus like that—

“Oh, hell no,” she said, interrupting his train of thought. “I cannot believe you would even think that I could – do you really think so little of me?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What am I supposed to think? Clearly, he has something on you, and who could blame you—”

“Oh, fuck you, Thomas,” she snarled and got up from her chair, nearly knocking it over. She walked to her desk to retrieve something from her purse and returned with her wallet a few seconds later, slamming it on the coffee table. “His stupid niece found this.”

“Your wallet?” Thomas asked. Now he was really confused. What did her wallet have to do with any of this?

“Open it.”

“Why—”

“Just open it,” she snapped.

He picked up the small leather purse and unfolded it, only to see that picture from the Fairytale Kingdom Formal he’d been sent in the ID window. “So he had a picture of us dancing. He’s got to have more; he wouldn’t risk being reported over so little proof.”

She nodded. “Slide it out.”

Thomas did as she told him and nearly gasped when he saw the photo behind it. It was from the same night, only a few hours later, and it appeared that he was kissing her. “This never happened.”

“Yes, it did. You found me in the rain, after my fight with Bianca, and we danced, and—”

“I remember,” he interrupted her. Of course he did. That was not a night he would forget, though he did bury the memory all the way in the back of his mind. “But I never kissed you. I would never!”

Danielle took the wallet from his hands and looked at the photo for a while before saying, “No, but I would.”

“You didn’t. I think I would remember.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I’d think you’d remember that it was just your cheek – no matter what it looks like in the photo.”

He did remember that. He also remembered repeatedly touching his cheek on the way home and wondering why the hell he had allowed her to do that. He asked himself that same question now – but there was no use dwelling on it. “Does he have any more?”

“Some from Sundance. The one May Gordon’s published before. They’re not bad on their own, but…”

“Damn it, Danielle! You should have told me as soon as you knew he had them!”

“Told you what? That I’ve ruined your life? That I’m exactly as stupid as you always said I was? No thanks. It’s not like it would have changed anything.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry. I am. I wish I’d never kept those stupid pictures. I should have just burnt them or something.”

Thomas was not prepared for how much he disagreed with that notion. Though, logically, it would be better if those pictures didn’t exist, he didn’t want them to be gone. The Fairytale Kingdom Formal that particular year had been the only one he’d ever even remotely enjoyed. Still… “Why didn’t you? Why keep them in your wallet?”

Danielle smiled ruefully. “Because I’m sentimental. Why do you think I still live here?”

“Still? Is this…?”

She nodded. “The apartment I moved into when I decided to live off-campus. Yeah. I never could part with it. And it’s not like I need more space right now. I spend most of my time on set, anyway.”

“You’ll have to part with it someday. The building might be demolished, or even just sold.”

“Oh, it was sold. To me.”

Thomas blinked. “You bought this whole building because you wanted to keep your old apartment?”

“I told you I’m sentimental,” she shrugged. “Besides, it’s a gold mine. I mean, so close to campus? And not a complete dump? It’s perfect.”

They were quiet for a while, unsure what else there was to be said. Thomas knew he would have to comply with Viktor’s demands for the time being, and Danielle seemed incredibly reluctant to speak – likely for fear of upsetting him in any way. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“You said you had photos from the set of Centaurus Lost…”

She looked up at him wide-eyed. “I… I do. And… some others, too.”

“Can I see them?”

He wasn’t sure what drove him to ask. But, surely, it would be good to know what else could get out there… that was the only reason. He just wanted to know if there was anything else that could ever be used against him. Maybe he’d even make her destroy everything. He knew he wouldn’t, though. Because Thomas, too, had a sentimental side.

Tags: @lilyoffandoms​ @trappedinfandoms​ @flyawayboo​ @oneemofungirl​ @alleksa16​ @silversparrow02​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @alj4890​ 

[laurels-blog]

Hermione and the Yule Ball

Summary: You’re part of the trio, but have a huge crush on Hermione, but are unsure of her feelings.You have to have a partner for the Yule Ball, but the one person you want to ask, has other ideas.

“I still can’t believe your name got picked (Y/N)!!” Hermione exclaimed. I rolled my eyes with a laugh. My name got drawn from the goblet of fire, which caused an uproar.

“I know, some sort of miracle that out of all names mine and Potter’s got picked.” I responded.

“I know, two of MY best friends!” She smiled.

“(Y/L/N)!” Professor McGonagall called.

“Yes professor?” I asked.

“I hope you have a date lined up for the Yule Ball.” She smiled.

“Uh, why?” I said.

“Well the three chosen students, in this case four chosen students, start off our dance. Be prepared!” She smiled, and left. I looked at Hermione with worry.

“Oh no, I am never going to find a date.” I cried out.

“Oh stop being dramatic, you will.” She responded. We went about our classes all day. Then came dinner.

“So Harry have you heard that we have to find a date to the Yule Ball?” I questioned, his eyes went big.

“We what?” He responded.

“I know, dreadful right?” I came back.

“Oh, hush you two. You both are attractive and will find dates!” Hermoine came back.

“Whoa Hermione, you can only have one of them.” Ron came back. Hermoine began blushing profusely. I let out a small giggle. Hermione is the girl I want to ask, but she hasn’t made it clear as to if she likes boys or girls.

“Who are you going to ask?” Harry said to Hermione.

“Oh, I’m not quite sure yet.” She blushed.

a few days later at lunch

“Come on (Y/N), just ask her. She’s obviously to nervous to ask you.” Ron said.

“The worse that can happen is that she says no.” Harry chimed in.

“Okay, I am going to do it.” I said, waiting for Hermione to show up to lunch. 

“Where is she?” I asked, nervous. 

“Oh, there she is., with that guy, uh what’s his name..” Ron said. Hermione looked at us and waved bye to Victor Krum, walking over to us with a huge smile.

“Hey, Hermione!” I said, with a huge smile. “Will you..”

“Hold that thought, (y/n)! You guys will never guess what just happened.” She said, excitedly. The three of us looked at each other. “Viktor Krum just said yes to going to the ball with me!” Immediately Ron and Harry looked at me, for some sort of reaction.

“Oh, uh that’s fantastic!” I said, with an obvious fake smile.

“Now what were you asking me?” Hermione said.

“Oh, nothing, I totally forgot!”

that night

“(Y/N), what’re you gonna do?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. I have no one to ask.” I said.

“If I had known Hermione was going to get a date, I wouldn’t have gotten one and went with you.” Ron said.

“I would’ve gone with you, but I am going with Cho.” Harry said.

“You guys, it’s okay you didn’t know.” I sighed.

“There is one person you can ask..” Harry said, looking at Ron.

“Oh no.” Ron gulped. I knew exactly who he was referring too.

the night of the Yule Ball

I looked into the mirror. I was wearing a blue dress with pink and purple floral designs on it. My hair was put in a messy updo and my make up looked perfect. My owl hooted. I sighed, it’s time to do this. I was at the top of the staircase, all eyes seemed to be on me. I noticed my date at the bottom of the stairs. He had a huge grin on his face. 

As I walked down the stairs, I seen Harry and Ron, smiling at me.

“You look beautiful.” Harry mouthed. Ron gave me a thumbs up.

“Thank you.” I mouthed back. 

“(Y/N), you look absolutely beautiful. I am glad you asked me.” My date said, grabbing my hand and kissing it.

“Thank you Draco. You look dashing.” I said. Draco was never rude to me. Yeah, he was rude to my best friends, but never me. He had a soft spot for me. 

“Ah, yes. (Y/L/N) and Malfoy, head to the dance floor, it’s time for the first dance!” McGonagall said. 

As the night went on, I danced and laughed with Draco. We even hung out with Ron and Harry and Draco was never rude to them.

“I am going to get us some punch.” Draco said, flashing me a smile before walking away.

“Uh oh, red alert.” Ron said. I was confused until I turned around.

“(Y/N), how could you?” Hermione said angrily.

“He’s not as bad as you think.” I said.

“He really isn’t, at least to her.” Ron chimed in, Hermione shot him daggers.

“How can you fraternize with the enemy?” She came back.

“Me? Fraternize with the enemy?” I snapped back. “You’re really one to talk!!”

“Viktor has done nothing to you!” 

“He’s going against not only me, but Harry as well! As of right now, Draco isn’t the enemy. Plus, he’s never been my enemy.”

“He’s using you to get closer to Harry and you know that.” She responded. Those words hurt like a dagger,

“You know Hermione? If you’re gonna get upset over who I came with, maybe you should’ve asked me and not as a last resort!” I yelled, tears brimming my eyes. Turning on my heels, I began stomping away.

Hermione’s POV

“Way to go.” Harry said. I shot him daggers.

“What’s her problem?” I snapped.

“Her problem?” Ron said, angrily. “What’s your problem?”

“She came here with that arsehole who called me a mudblood!”

“She came with him because her first choice decided to ask someone else, moments before she wanted to ask!” Ron came back.

“Oh, yeah and who’s that?” I snapped.

“It was you. She was waiting and waiting for you, and when she finally built up the confidence to ask you, you rubbed it in her face that you asked Krum!” Harry said. 

I stepped back. What have I done? I had to find her. I hurt my best friend and the girl I like. 

I heard a muffled cry, I instantly ran towards it. On the steps sat (Y/N) and Draco, who looked up. He looked disgusted with me, as he should.

“May I speak to (Y/N) in private?” I asked. Draco looked at her for approval, once he got it, he got up and walked away.

“I am so so so sorry for how selfish I was.” I spat out. “I didn’t realize you liked me back, so I went with the Viktor, knowing he’d say yes. I wanted to ask you, I did, but I was scared of rejection. I shouldn’t have been so rude about Malfoy, you did the same thing I did. You were my first choice, you always have been.” I kept going on. “I-I” I was cut off by a pair of lips on mine.

“I forgive you.” (Y/N) smiled.

[killerqueen-18]

Chapter Three| Momma Bear’s Skills

“You want to tell me the real reason why you were late, Jules?” Xander says his hand on his sister’s back as she walks in front of them all. Julie hums as if she were thinking then shakes her head. “Nope. Ask again later though.”

“Jules!” Xander yells as the two girl walk towards the girls locker room and the boy to the respected locker room. “Love you too!”

“I heard you helped the new kid this morning with his little soda accident.” Rebecca says as the Julie and Diana walk up to her, Allison, and Violet. “How?” Julie says as she and the other chang into there combat uniforms.

“Brandy’s a gossip whore.” Violet says with a roll of her eyes. “So, you saw him shirtless I hear? Did you do it in the boy’s locker room showers?” Rebecca says raising an eyebrow.

“Oh god.” Julie says shaking her head and she ties her red belt around her belt. “He must have gotten a boner just at the thought of you in the locker room with him.” Violet says to Rebecca.

“What is with you people and boners today?” Julie throws her hands up in a James fashion. “James?” Allison asks with a tilt of her head.

“Who else?” Julie scoff. “Um, James and I were also in said locker room and there was no shower sex of any kind.” Diana says raising her hand.

“Oh my god, and we just end this conversation?” Julie says walking towards the exit with the four girl laughing behind her as they also follow. Julie is met with Stefan, Xander, Griffin, and James, since Scott and Isaac had other classes this period.

“I heard you gave the new kid a boner.” Stefan says walking next to the green eyed girl. “Oh, shut up!” Julie says pushing the boy away from her, as he, James, and the four girl’s laughed Julie. Griffin and Xander stood unamused, by the comment.

Julie sighs then turns to her brother. “Chico poured soda over Marcus. I wasn’t just going to stand there as they walked away. So, I helped him get his clothes clean and James went to his dorm to get him clothes. Then we went to Black Arts. That’s it.”

Xander loses his stern look and uncrosses his arms, letting his sister grab a hold of his arm. “Why must you always save people, Jules? We have rules set for a reason. And this new kid just isn’t cut out for them.”

“We’ll see about that.” Julie shrugs as they all walk into Miss DeLuca’s class. “Morning Miss DeLuca.” The five girl’s, and James says in unison, smiling at the woman.

“Morning, guys.” The woman says giving the six a small smile. Miss DeLuca was there favorite teacher. She was badass woman in the girl’s eyes.

Hand-to-Hand Combat

All the girl’s spread out on the mat and stretch as the boy’s stand to the side. Watching over them as they always did. The boy were all every protective of all the girl’s even in a classroom where there was no danger.

Only boy’s but Xander still saw them as a danger to the girl’s. They were all his sister’s. Blood or not. Of course Allison was a little more but he wasn’t willing to find out if it could be more.

Soon Marcus walks in to see at five girl’s laugh at something James said, but Julie was the one that noticed him, and smiles.

“Help me stretch?” Julie says standing. “What-” Marcus says as the girl puts her leg on his shoulder as she stretches her leg on his left shoulder.

“Whoa.” Marcus says with wide eyes, grabbing the girl’s leg with his left hand, and her hip with his right hand to steady her. Julie laughs softly.

“Momma Bear, got’s skills.” James says laying down in the middle of the four girl’s that sat on the mats. None of them have ever seen the female Valentine flirt, not even Alexander has ever flirted with a girl or guy in the school. Except maybe Allison but that was behind closed doors.

“Momma Bear is on her way to getting a Papa Bear.” Violet says nodding impressed by there best friend. The nickname came from Ryan. He said it when some Sato Vatos were teasing him in front of Julie. Big mistake on their end. One ended up with a broken arm, one with cuts all over his arms and chest, and the last one with a broken leg.

Let’s just say no one ever messed with Isaac again. And Julie got the name Momma Bear, and it just stuck not only with him but with the other as well. Julie let Isaac call her that because he was a year younger that the other and she saw him as a little brother. But treated him as if he were her child.

And Isaac let the female Valentine treat him like a child because he never got that bonding experience with a female. So, Julie was the closest thing he got to a mother figure even if she was a year older than him.

“Cute.” Rebecca says with a tilt of her head. “Aren’t they? I’m already planning a wedding.” James squeals, clapping his hands.

“Painted white roses?” Allison asks. “Painted with the blood of our enemies!” James says raising his fist in the air.

“More like his mother’s blood.” Diana scoffs. “True.” They all nods going back to looking at Julie and Marcus.

Julie had put her leg back down and was just talking to the boy. They all noticed Marcus could not take his eyes off of there Julietta. Even when she showed him the leader board to the side of the room.

They also notice the sparkle in Julie’s eyes. Something not even they have ever seen. And her smiles was so bright when Marcus said something funny. As the five noticed Xander and Griffin did as well.

They noticed the way Julie was a bit more carefree with Marcus. Something not even they could cause. Xander didn’t want to see his sister hurt, but he need to learn that she could take care of herself. And Griffin, Griffin needed to learn that Julie was not interested in him. That she saw him as a brother. Nothing more.

As more people walked into the classroom. Julie and Marcus got separated as her twin and Griffin sat on the mats with the girl’s and James. Marcus sat at the bench with a few other students when Miss DeLuca started the lesson.

“When the Republic of Texas openly declared genocide, which Indian tribe survived for another 40 years?” The woman says walking in front of them all.

“Well, they all got done in the end.” Willie says looking around the room hoping to get a laugh or two, but got none. He notices the unamused look from the woman, and clears his throat. “Sorry, Miss DeLuca.”

“The fierce Comanche survived due only to strength and cunning. Remember, hand-wringing liberal ideals won't keep you safe. The world respects those who can protect themselves. Every opponent has a weakness. Pick a partner. Find theirs.”

Julie stands quickly and walks towards Marcus, with her hand out. The boy shakes his head quickly. “No, no, I'm good.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you, darling. Trust me.” Julie says smirking, as she drags him to one of the smaller mats around the room. Everyone watched the two curiously. Xander and Julie always spear against each other. They were top of the class, so they always went against each other to get actual competition.

“No, no, no. If you fight the way you stretch I already know I’m in trouble.” Marcus says letting the girl drag him towards the mat. “Do you not know how to tie a knot?” Julie say amused.

Julie pulls the boy closer to her by tightening the knot for him.

“Dude, I know you got me in this leg shear, but your boner's digging into my chest cavity. I get it, soft and warm. I use lotion.” Billy says with Viktor on top of him. A minute later a crack is heard and a cry is sounded.

“Is someone going to help him?” Marcus says looking to the boy what was crying out. “That’s a cheap shot here, darling. Combat 101: elbow-knee escaped into a triangle. And size doesn't matter.” Julie says with a sigh, then notices the confused look Marcus had and smiles.

“It's okay, I'll show you.” Julie says then grabs the boy’s hand putting it on her hip and the other on her shoulder. “Hand here and here... May I ask why you decide to come back?”

“I needed a place to hide from the pigs.” Marcus says looking down at the green eyed girl. “I think you need a better lie, Marcus.” Julie tsks.

“What-” Marcus starts but Julie decided to go easy on him and flip him onto his back, and straddles his hips, putting him hand above him head. “Think of any?” Julie says with a tilt of her head.

Marcus smiles seeing Julie cheeky smiles, her tongue sticking out between her teeth slightly. “Nope, one one truth.”

• • •

After Julie teaching Marcus a couple moves that didn’t exactly process in his brain the students were let go a few minutes before the bell rang. Marcus walked with the girl to the locker rooms before that seperated to get changed.

“You wanna explain why you didn’t spear with Xander?” Violet says smiling amused. “I knew no one was going to go easy on the new kid so I helped him a bit.” Julie says with a shrug.

“Why showed him how spear with you is the quickest way to get you on top of him.” Rebecca scoffs. “Oh hush up.” Julie says tying her tie.

“We’re all just waiting for the wedding.” Allison says smirking. The female Valentine rolls her eyes, walking away from them. “Bye.”

“I think he’s cute, Juliet.” Rebecca says letting the brunette loop her arm with her. “Thanks?” Julie says confused.

Poison 101

The two made it to their classroom and walked towards there desk across from Billy. “I just mean he’d cute for you.” Rebecca says as they get their supplies out and separated.

Just as the bell rang Marcus also walked into the room and sat beside Billy. Julie smiles towards him then turns back to Rebecca who was whispering into her ear.

“His eyes shot straight towards you when he walked into the room.” Rebecca whispers with a smirk. Julie rolls her eyes but blushes slightly nonetheless. She subtle looks back at Marcus to see him already staring at her. He quickly looks away making the girl smile seeing his neck go red.

“Still, unsanctioned killing of another student is against his rules, so I got that going for me. In this case, the victim dies in a spectacularly nasty fashion, as blood seeps from every orifice. Prepare your poison, students. We will be killing - these animals in two minutes.” Mister Denke says to the class.

A book fell to the floor making the girl turn to Marcus as he whisper to Viktor. “Hey, sorry, could you grab that for me?”

“Pick up your own book, soft boy.” Viktor says unamused. Petra hands the can over to Billy who put a substance into the can, and Petra puts in back just before Viktor turns back around.

“Name one common industrial poison ideal for making a statement.” The man says, then Viktor - an annoying russian boy - raises his hand. “Sodium cyanide. Victim is dead in seconds.”

“You want to make a statement, strychnine leaves your victim contorted and convulsing for hours.” The girl beside him, Petra, says in a dull tone. “Good, Petra. And why do we want it known that this wasn't an accident?”

“Poison delivers a clear message. No one is safe from you - Anywhere.” Petra says subtle looking at Viktor. “Outstanding.”

Suddenly a loud gurgling sound is heard from Marcus’s side of the room. Julie and Rebecca turn to see Viktor standing with a red face. “Sit down, Viktor.” Mister Denke says to the boy.

“I must use lavatory.” Viktor says looking to the door then back to the teacher. “I said sit down! Do it! Sit!” Mister Denke yells in annoyance.

The Russian boy sits with a groan, as his stomach gurgles and everyone laughs at his misfortune. “Karma's a bitch.” Rebecca says making Julie laugh.

“Learn from his shame, class. Viktor invited this attack with his arrogance. You, always remember this.” Mister Denke says stiffing the boy’s can of soda, then turns to a laughing Billy. “And you. Get a mop.”

“Ugh, and febreze or something!” Rebecca says covering her nose, along with the rest of the class.

[that-buckley-gal]

Eternal Glory - The Third Task (6)

While Cedric and Cordelia had grown a respectable tolerance for Harry’s participation in the tournament, Amos had grown increasingly frustrated. The twins didn’t have a clue as to why either as it was Cordelia who was facing the Potter boy and not Amos himself.

Cordelia respected Seamus’ wishes to cheer for both her and Harry because they both hailed from Hogwarts after all. The Slytherins didn’t share the same mindset. Rather, Draco made it a point to even give out shirts that supported Cordelia and slammed Harry. When asked, Harry told the other champion of his past quarrels with the Pureblood slytherin, which only made her annoyed. Nonetheless, school continued on. Life moved on for the students who eagerly waited for June 24 to roll around because then they’d find out who the winner would be. Bets were already being placed. To Cordelia’s amusement, a majority of the students believed it would be either her or Harry who would win; a large group trusted Viktor to win, while only a few stragglers thought Fleur would pull through during the third task. ~ Eternal Glory ~ The day had finally come: June 24. It was a Friday, and classes were dismissed at noon so the staff could prepare for the final task. The champions this time were all on equal ground as none of them had a clue as to what this final task would entail. Seamus had reckoned that it had something else to do with the Quidditch Pitch, like the first task had. This made Cordelia uncomfortable as she wondered if the pitch would be able to be played on during her final year at Hogwarts. And she didn’t want to deal with another dragon. She loved Reese, who hadn’t grown at all, but only because she was a little palm-sized dragon. A 22-foot one was something else entirely. Dean then agreed with Seamus’ theory as the two had seen several professors go out to the pitch a lot over the past few months. Cedric had merely agreed before voicing his and his sister’s thoughts of the pitch being used the way it was. The final task was to start at 5:00 PM, so the group had began to head down to the pitch. Seamus and Cordelia had taken their time, savoring their last few minutes of alone time before she was to go in and get all the glory after she won. Sure, Harry was one of Seamus’ friends and roommates, but Cordelia was his lovely Cora. He wanted her to win. Stopping just outside the pitch, Seamus had pushed her against the wall and kissed her. He told her to win and wished her luck. Cordelia then said she loved him and Seamus said the same. The two then parted ways with the promise of forever lingering in their thoughts. While Seamus began making his way up to the stands, Cordelia had wandered into the changing rooms where her mother, father and brother were waiting. They stepped out and allowed her to change into her outfit; the same one she wore while battling the dragon in the first task before stepping back in. The family of three chatted idly while reiterating tips and spells that Cordelia could use in the maze. Cordelia let the men speak away, while sharing a knowing look with her mother, only taking in the things they haven’t already said. This continued on for a little while longer until Professor McGonagall knocked on the door and ushered them out onto the field. They waited until Professor Dumbledore had announced her name, and when he did, Amos took his daughters hand and walked out in front of the crowd with them. While he pranced around, showing off his daughter, Cordelia saw the maze and gawked at its size. She then took a look around to realize the stands had been lowered closer to the grounds, which made her grit her teeth in annoyance. Stupid tournament was messing with the pitch. However, she pulled herself back to the present and politely asked her father to stop whatever it was he was doing. Harry came out next with Moody. Then Viktor and Igor. Finally, Fleur and Gabrielle came out with Madame Maxime. The four champions got into another pre-task huddle with the Hogwarts headmaster who said something that caused a chill to run down their spines. “Oh, find the cup, if you can, but be careful. You might just lose yourself along the way.” Cordelia tried keep her fear in, but honestly how could she? Especially after what Dumbledore said? Amos had noticed his daughter’s paleness as the champions disbanded to get one more final pep talk before they entered the maze. Amos allowed his wife to hug their daughter and kiss her head before he wrapped his younger child in his arms, squeezing her as he wished her luck and said he loved her. “I love you, too, pop,” Cordelia told her father who looked close to tears. He backed off, allowing his son to wish his twin good luck as well. Cedric’s hug was tighter than their father’s though it was to be expected. The twins had  done everything together, and Cordelia going through this maze alone scared Cedric. He whispered “good luck” and “I love you” and “no matter what, you have to come back. For me, pop, and Seamus.” “I know,” Cordelia muttered back before Cedric let her go. “And I will. I promise.” After that her and Harry moved to two sections of the maze. Dumbledore had just announced that the two would enter when the cannon sounded and “good lu – ” Filch had let the cannon loose to early once more, and Cordelia stole one more glance up to the Irish boy in the stands, blowing him a kiss, which he pretended to catch. She smiled before stepping into the maze; the hedges immediately closed behind her, leaving her in darkness and utter silence. ~ Eternal Glory ~ Cordelia was afraid now. She had just witnessed Seamus and Cedric kill each other before realizing she was dealing with a Boggart. She exclaimed “Riddikulus” before running off again only to run into a hedge wall that tried to reach out and grab her. Then after that she had run into a dead end; the row she was in suddenly began to close in on her and she had to run for her life. She now shuddered to think of what other creatures could be in this maze. Just before she was to turn down another path, a piercing scream rang out through the maze. The sheer terror that it was made up of made Cordelia pause for the briefest of moments before she ran to where she figured the scream had come from. She came upon Fleur, who was out cold on the maze floor. Cordelia figured she’d been stunned and then took a peek around to make sure neither Viktor or Harry was around before she left the scene. It was too late though. As she turned a corner, she came upon Viktor, who had a blank look in his eyes. “Viktor? What is going on?” Cordelia asked. Viktor didn’t answer, instead choosing to shoot a curse at her. She waved it off before her and Viktor began dueling. The Bulgarian was surprisingly aggressive in his attack, and all Cordelia could do was deflect the spells. “CRUCIO!” Another piercing scream rang throughout the maze as Cordelia thrashed in pain on the forest floor. She couldn’t do anything except endure the pain that this unforgivable curse took over her senses. She screamed, yes. Tears started to leak from her gray eyes, but Viktor wasn’t relenting. Instead he only stopped once before doing it again. Cordelia wanted to die in that moment. The pain was just so unbearable. ~ Eternal Glory ~ Harry Potter had just witnessed Fleur Delacour get pulled into the hedges, and he briefly wondered if it was taking her back to the pitch. He sent up red sparks either way just to be sure she would be helped. He was about to move along when he heard another scream. His heart leapt into his chest as realization dawned on him. Cordelia. He took off after the sound, the screams becoming more loud and hysterical as he searched. Finally he saw the sixth year Hufflepuff thrashing upon the ground as she continued screaming. Harry then peeked out around the corner, only to be horrified when he saw Viktor Krum pointing his wand at the girl. Without a second thought, Harry stupefied the Bulgarian, and helped Cordelia to her feet. She staggered slightly, and meanly shoved Harry away from her before shooting a second curse at the downed Bulgarian. Harry couldn’t believe it! Dumbledore did say that people sometimes changed in the maze, but he didn’t think that the changes would be so…deadly. He watched as Cordelia kicked the Bulgarian’s wand out of his hand before aiming her want at him. He had to stop her! Without another thought, Harry leapt at Cordelia and pushed her against a hedge wall. “Stop!” He cried. “Cordelia, stop! He’s been bewitched! Viktor’s bewitched!” Cordelia glowered at the younger boy and pushed him away from her. “Get off me!” Then she ran away from Harry, who gave chase. It was just those two in the maze now after all. The two were running next to each other. Cordelia saw the threat before Harry did. She skidded to a stop and turned just as the giant spider entered their line of vision. Harry doubled back as well, but then the section of hedge they were in started to close in on them. The two then turned around once more before they both fired “STUPEFY” at the spider, sending it over the edge behind it. They then got into another row just as the one they were in closed. “Oh, Harry!” Cordelia suddenly sobbed. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for what I did to Viktor! I didn’t mean it! I just want to go home!” Harry didn’t know what to say as Cordelia continued to sob. He let her cry it out for a few moments before she pulled herself together. Harry then offered her a truce, and that they should both find the cup and grab it, as it would be a Hogwarts victory either way. “Then split the prize?” Cordelia asked. Harry nodded and stuck his hand out. She shook it. The two students then began to jog around the maze, until finally they caught sight of the cup. Cordelia was in love with it and she stopped Harry from running off in a different direction. They both shared relieved grins before they sprinted towards the cup. “One! Two! Three!” They each grabbed one handle of the cup, and it transported them both out of the maze. ~ Eternal Glory ~ Cordelia didn’t expect for the cup to bring them to some run down cemetery. When they landed, the cup went bouncing off in some random direction. She went and crouched next to it whilst Harry continued to grunt as he caught his breath. “Where are we?” She asked aloud. Her gray eyes then studied the cup as she realized it was portkey. “Harry! I think the cup was a portkey!” Harry’s only response was a grunt. “I wonder why it brought us here though.” As Harry took in the cemetery, realization dawned on him. He told Cordelia that they had to get out of there NOW. She had asked why before grabbing her wand. Suddenly Harry grabbed at his scar and screamed in pain. Concerned gray eyes fell on him as he fell to the ground, gasping out that they had to get to the cup. Suddenly, a figure appeared. It was carrying a bundle of sorts. Cordelia moved to stand in front of Harry before she held up her wand at the stranger. “Who are you?! What do you want?!” She yelled. “Kill the spare,” a raspy voice filled out. “Avada Kedavra!” the stranger had his wand trained on Cordelia who then deflected the curse with a “Protego!” The stranger continued to fling curses at the sixth year girl who only deflected the curse and shot back her own spells. She was lucky that one of her spells landed on the stranger who flew back into a wall as his bundle fell to the floor. Cordelia’s gray eyes were locked with Harry’s as she yelled “Run!” at him, but Harry couldn’t move. He’d never seen a witch do anything like what Cordelia just did. Had either of them been paying attention, they would’ve noticed another person arrive on the scene. This person grabbed the stranger’s dropped wand before shooting the killing curse at the distracted teenage girl. Cordelia’s eyes flicked back to see a flash of green coming at her before it hit. She was deaf to Harry’s cry. She didn’t feel pain. She didn’t feel anything as she fell into oblivion. Cordelia Diggory was dead before she hit the ground. ~ Eternal Glory ~ “Take my body back, Harry. Take it back for my family.” Harry’s eyes watered as Cordelia’s echo sent him a gentle smile. He could only nod and she smiled her thanks before allowing Lily and James Potter to speak to their son. As soon as the echoes closed in on Lord Voldemort, Harry sprinted towards the sixth year’s body. He held onto it for dear life as he summoned the Triwizard Cup to him, praying it would take him back to the castle. It did. As soon as he landed, the Hogwarts band started to play while people began to cheer for the Hogwarts students. Harry couldn’t even breathe. He glanced at Cordelia’s lifeless grey eyes before he lost it. He started sobbing even harder than he was before they left the graveyard. She didn’t deserve this. Fleur Delacour screamed once she realized why her English friend wasn’t moving and why Harry was sobbing so harshly. The girl was dead. Her scream caused the celebrations to cease almost at once. Dumbledore approached the fourth year boy. He grabbed his arms and tried to pull him away from Cordelia’s body, but Harry aggressively shook off the older man screaming, “No! No! No!” He then made sure he was covering the entire body, unwilling to let her go. “For God’s sake, Dumbledore! What’s happened?” A man questioned. “He’s back! He’s back!” Harry gasped as he looked up at his headmaster. “Voldemort’s back! Cordelia…She asked me to bring her body back! I couldn’t leave her! Not there!” Dumbledore grabbed the young boy’s face and looked into his eyes. “It’s all right now, Harry,” he said. “She’s home now. You both are.” Harry only nodded as he continued to sob. ~ Eternal Glory ~ The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, told the staff to keep everyone in their seats because “a girl’s just been killed.” Seamus Finnigan and Cedric Diggory were among the students who were already on the ground as they wanted to be among the first to congratulate the champion, whomever it may be. And now they stood, watching as Cordelia’s rival in the tournament continued to sob over her dead body. Both of them both loved Cordelia, and they valued her more than themselves and to see her lying there like that… They didn’t know how to think. Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape rushed towards the champions, pushing past the students. Fudge followed and insisted that the body must be moved. Amos Diggory had pushed past everyone in order to get to his daughter. Cedric had remained motionless as his gray eyes stared at his twin sister’s form. “Let me through!” Amos demanded as people continued to stand around and gawk. “Let me through!” He ran and pushed past Seamus and Cedric, both of whom were too shocked to move. He fell to his knees and stared in horror at her face. Tears started to stream down his cheeks as he began to sob. “That’s my daughter! That’s my baby girl!” The crowd was too distracted by Amos’ heartbreaking cries that no one noticed when Alastor Moody ripped Harry away from the girl before dragging him away from the scene. “No, no!” Amos choked before screaming out a heart wrenching, “NO!”

[whoareurl]

Blood Drive - YOI

hey all!! this is my giveaway fic for @mypoorfaves who gave me this really awesome prompt about viktor fainting after he has blood taken and tbh i loved writing this but i’m hiding it under the cut bc it’s vanilla so i might post it on ao3 too bc i’m vain and want attention lmao. anyway here it is!!!!!!

Usually, Viktor doesn’t mind being in front of the cameras. Usually, he’s camera-ready. But, then again, he usually isn’t about to have a needle stabbed into his arm and a pint of his blood forcibly taken from him. Despite what Yuuri says, he doesn’t think he’s exaggerating. He doesn’t like needles, never has. He remembers getting a meningitis vaccine when he was 21 only because Yakov had threatened something Viktor didn’t think proper to repeat in English.

At least Yuuri was with him. It made the whole thing a little more bearable. Despite feeling like his insides might actually consume themselves in fear, Viktor wasn’t about to pull out now. It was a charity event and, quite aside from not wanting to look bad, it was for a cause very dear to his husband’s heart.

Yuuri had told him with a soft, quiet voice about a boy he’d met during his junior years who had been saved by a blood transfusion to treat his anaemia. It was the only reason he’d been able to keep skating.

“I didn’t know him very well,” Yuuri had confessed. “He didn’t continue to seniors. But he helped me calm down once before the JGP and I want to do this for him.”

Viktor isn’t about to let Yuuri down.

So, here he is. Sitting in a blood donation clinic in Geneva with Yuuri on his left and Chris on his right. Yurio is on Yuuri’s other side and is pointedly not looking at either of them. Across the room, Phichit is giggling with Leo and Guang Hong and taking completely unsubtle pictures of Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor hears his phone buzz faintly in his jacket and deduces that they must be sending him photos of his terrified face with ridiculous snapchat filters.

“Doing okay?” Yuuri asks quietly in Russian.

Viktor looks over and attempts a smile. “Nervous,” is all he says, trying to keep his lips from moving too much. The entire reason they’re even speaking Russian is so nobody will be able to read their lips later.

Yuuri reaches out and offers his hand. With a more genuine smile this time, Viktor slides his hand into Yuuri’s and squeezes. It’s not comfortable but Viktor doesn’t plan to let go until this whole thing is over.

“I’ll be right here,” Yuuri assures him.

Phichit is making kissy faces across the room at them and Viktor feels a small semblance of calm come over him. If nothing else, his love for Yuuri is one thing he’s completely comfortable with in front of a camera.

The nurse who has been bustling around Yuuri finally has his equipment prepared and takes a seat next to him. Viktor has to look away as he inserts the needle and, in doing so, catches Chris’s eye. His friend offers him one of his less seductive smiles. Being in Geneva, Chris is garnering quite a lot of attention. He is, after all, their heart of their national skating pride. Chris, of course, takes this in his stride.

“It’s been too long since you were in Geneva, Vitya,” says Chris woefully in French. “I’ve missed having a challenging drinking partner.”

Viktor rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ve never found you to be much of a challenge,” he shoots back, making Chris laugh heartily.

“You wound me,” he says, putting his free hand (which isn’t connected to a needle) on his chest.

Viktor is grateful for Chris - their usual mildly flirtatious communication is helping take his mind off the inevitable violation which is to come.

(Yuuri might be right. He might be a tad dramatic.)

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Chris says softly in Russian before switching back to French without ever once changing his expression. “You should bring that gorgeous husband of yours round for dinner tonight.”

“Well, we were thinking of visiting Stephane since he is, of course, my favourite Swiss skater,” Viktor teases, adding his thanks in Russian.

Chris, deciding he is too hurt by Viktor’s comments to answer them directly, leans forward slightly to appeal to Yuuri in English. “Yuuri, darling, your husband is quite the dreadful heartbreaker.”

Yuuri, who Viktor notices has now finished being prodded and is sitting calmly squeezing a stress ball to help the blood flow, offers Chris an innocent smile. “Was I naive to assume that marriage would discourage your advances, Christophe?”

At the use of his full name, Chris fans himself with his free hand. “Goodness, what have I done to deserve such formality? You know how I feel about formality, Yuuri.”

Once upon a time, Yuuri might have been flustered into silence. Now, he’s endlessly familiar with Chris’s flirtations and simply rolls his eyes. “If you’re looking for a threesome, Chris, all you have to do is ask.”

Viktor nearly chokes on his own tongue and Chris practically dissolves into laughter.

“You picked a fiesty one, Vitya,” he says in French.

Viktor is about to respond when a nurse wheels her trolley over and offers him a smile.

“Hello, Monsieur Nikiforov. I am Elena. Let me see your arm,” she says in heavily accented English.

Viktor feels himself shaking as he extends his places his right arm on the armrest and takes a deep, slow breath.

“Do not worry,” says Elena kindly. “It will only pinch.”

“He speaks French, if you can stand the accent,” says Chris helpfully in French, offering Viktor a smirk. “He’s a Russian who learned from a Frenchman.”

Elena smiles, switching to French as she says, “I’m sure your French is lovely.”

“It’s one of my favourites to speak,” Viktor says, managing to keep his voice relatively steady and tries not to watch as she prepares her equipment.

“You speak Russian, French, and English fluently?” she asks conversationally.

Viktor swallows. “Yes. And I’m learning Japanese.”

She raises her eyebrows, looking impressed as she ties a band around Viktor’s upper arm. It hurts and Viktor tries to swallow his panic as she starts prodding gently at the inside of his elbow.

“You’re learning for your husband?” She asks, nodding over towards Yuuri. Viktor shoots Yuuri a smile. It’s clear his husband is only following roughly half of the conversation and Viktor feels bad for leaving him out but he also wants Elena to be able to communicate in a language in which she’s fluent.

“Hai,” Viktor says softly and Yuuri smiles fondly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Viktor’s hand. He doesn’t need to translate for Elena; his tone says it all.

“How long have you been married?” Elena asks, clearly trying to keep him distracted.

“Um,” he says, feeling the panic rise in his chest as she unwraps a fresh needle. He closes his eyes and squeezes Yuuri’s hand tighter. “Almost a year.”

“Are you planning anything for your anniversary?” She asks and Viktor feels a sharp pinch and it’s in.

He takes a deep breath. Okay. This could be worse. It’s horrible and he can feel it and the panic is settling almost restrictively in his chest but it’s okay.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri whispers in Russian. “Remember when you broke your ankle on that double axel in juniors? This can’t be worse than that.”

Despite the fear, Viktor looks over at Yuuri fondly. “You really were my biggest fan, weren’t you?”

Yuuri doesn’t flush. “Am,” he corrects. “Am your biggest fan.”

From behind Yuuri, Yurio sits forward and makes a vomiting noise before promptly slumping back against the chair again. Viktor’s laugh is strained but it’s genuine.

“Alright,” says Elena, apparently finished. “If you start to feel sick at any point, I want you to let me know. It happens all the time so don’t be embarrassed about it.” She turns to Yuuri and switches back to English. “How are you feeling, Mr Katsuki?”

Yuuri smiles. “Fine, thank you. And it’s still just Yuuri.”

Elena nods but doesn’t correct herself and gives Viktor a pointed look. “If you feel sick, tell me.”

And then she takes her trolley over to Leo.

Viktor keeps his eyes on Yuuri and tries not to think about it. Does he feel sick? Or is he just anxious? Well, now he’s anxious that he might be feeling sick. And it doesn’t help that the damn cameras are still staring him down. The clinic had required that they remain to one side of the room and out of the way and Viktor is endlessly thankful for small mercies.

“How do you think Makkachin would feel about another dog?” Yuuri asks and it takes Viktor completely by surprise.

“Not sure,” he answers somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve never asked her.”

Yuuri nods. Viktor fiddles with Yuuri’s wedding ring with his pinky.

“I think it’s a good idea though,” he adds after a moment. “Can’t have too many dogs, right?”

Viktor feels a slight twinge in his arm and gasps softly. He wants to cry. This is an entirely awful experience and he wants it to be over.

“I don’t like this,” he says in Russian, no longer trying to keep the distress out of his voice. It’s all he can do to keep himself looking calm for the cameras.

Yuuri doesn’t even blink. “Do you want to stop?” He asks and there’s no accusation or disappointment in his tone but Viktor reads those emotions into his voice anyway. He shakes his head.

“We’ve started now,” he says. “It’ll be over soon, right?”

Squeezing his hand again, Yuuri says gently, “It will. And I’ll stay right here. But remember you can stop whenever you want.”

Viktor nods.

“Are you feeling sick?” Yuuri asks, concerned.

“No,” Viktor mumbles, closing his eyes. He tries to hyperfocus on the feeling of Yuuri’s hand in his. It’s warm and solid and soft. If Viktor concentrates, he can feel every single point of connection, can trace the outline of Yuuri’s fingers as they fold round his own.

“You’re doing really well,” Yuuri says earnestly and Viktor feels the corners of his lips twitch into an involuntary smile. Yuuri is so good to him, he thinks.

In the end, it isn’t actually that bad. Yuuri says soft things in a mix of Russian and Japanese and Viktor hums and nods and plays with Yuuri’s slender fingers and tries to relax into his seat. For a moment, he feels a little...off. But it passes and Elena, who has just finished securing a sticky bandage to Yuuri’s inner elbow, returns to inspect his progress. She seems pleased.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She says with a smile and Viktor gives her a slight shake of his head. She looks closely at him. “You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?”

Viktor is thankful that Chris finished donating ages ago so he doesn’t have to endure snarky comments about his snow-climate complexion. “I’m alright,” he tells her. And he is.

Until he tries to stand up and the world tilts quite dramatically sideways. He reaches for Yuuri.

And then. Well, he isn’t sure what happens next. But then his head is settled comfortably in Yuuri’s lap and Yuuri’s delicate fingers are running gently through his hair which feels gross from the nervous sweats he’d experienced an hour ago. Viktor wants to tell him to wait until he’s had a shower but he also doesn’t want Yuuri to stop.

“It’s alright, Vitya,” Yuuri’s voice says warmly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Viktor stares up at Yuuri who looks somewhat blurry. He wonders briefly if he’s supposed to be wearing glasses but then remembers that Yuuri is the one who wears them. Is this what Yuuri sees when he’s skating? How does he avoid the barriers?

“Can you sit up for me, love?” Yuuri asks and Viktor tries his best but he probably couldn’t have managed it without Yuuri’s strong, guiding arms. Have Yuuri’s biceps always been this...firm?

Viktor rests his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and sighs. His entire body feels tingly and he feels like he’s floating just outside of himself. Not to mention his stomach is tying itself in knots. His arms shake where they try to support him but Yuuri’s body is a rock, keeping him anchored.

Elena hands Yuuri a carton of apple juice and Viktor watches with rapt fascination while Yuuri expertly releases the attached straw from its plastic wrapping with one hand and pierces the foil on top of the carton, keeping his other arm wrapped firmly round his husband’s waist. Somewhat dazedly, Viktor wonders if this is why damsels are always in distress. Having Yuuri take charge of things so smoothly is just about the most attractive thing Viktor has ever seen and Viktor tells him so in Russian. Well, he tries to tell him. But it comes out mumbled and half in French and Yuuri just kisses his forehead indulgently.

“Small sips,” Yuuri says as he holds the juicebox so that the straw just touches Viktor’s lips.

The sweet taste makes Viktor feel a little more real. He can feel the ground solidifying beneath him as the chill floods through his chest and travels down into his stomach. After a moment, he lifts a shaky hand to take the juicebox from Yuuri but he doesn’t make any other moves to support himself independently. Yuuri doesn’t seem to mind. His now free hand comes to rest softly on Viktor’s thigh.

For a moment, everything is bliss. And then the realisation of what just happened comes crashing down on Viktor and he feels his face turn a brilliant shade of scarlet. He buries his face in Yuuri’s shoulder and groans.

“This is so embarrassing,” he says mournfully.

Yuuri shushes him kindly and Elena says, “You have no reason to be embarrassed. This happens a lot.”

Her words do give Viktor a little reassurance but he can’t help thinking that most people don’t faint in front of a full camera crew and end up with gifs of themselves collapsing on the internet forever. Knowing the speed of the online world, Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if those gifs were already circulating on tumblr. He groans again.

“Vitya,” Yuuri coaxes, nudging his shoulder slightly to get Viktor to show his face. “Finish your juice. There’s still half left.”

Reluctantly, Viktor takes another few sips of his juicebox and is somewhat frustrated that he enjoys the taste of it when he’s doing his best to feel embarrassed and miserable. He feels Yuuri’s lips against his hair and the soft, warm huffs of Yuuri’s breath ruffling the strands of his fringe and he thinks that maybe this isn’t the absolute worst thing in the world.

It’s going to take a while to repair his image, though. He takes a moment to mourn that before he finishes his juice forcefully so that it makes a pointed gurgling noise to prove to Yuuri that it’s finished.

True to their word, Elena and Yuuri help him unsteadily to his feet and he’s soon settled in a plastic chair with Yurio on one side and Chris on the other. Yuuri crouches down in front of him and smiles.

“Feeling a bit better?” He asks kindly.

Viktor doesn’t get a chance to answer before Yurio butts in. “Is it true you fainted? I mean, you actually fainted?”

It takes Viktor a moment to register Yurio’s strange accent but Yuuri seems to be on it far faster than he is because he says, “Shove off, Malfoy,” and Chris lets out a snort.

“For real, though,” Chris says. “Are you okay? Nothing damaged?”

Viktor sighs. “Only my pride.”

“You needed taking down a peg,” says Chris matter-of-factly and Viktor aims a lethargic punch at his leg.

Yuuri catches his hand as he brings it back and kisses it gently and Viktor thinks he can see every single star right there in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you,” he says earnestly.

And Viktor thinks that maybe it’s okay after all. Because Yuuri is proud of him. And that’s enough.

[thesimplyluxuriouslife]

299: How to Live a Life with Less Stress & Why It's Vital for Good Health

"The lack of meaning in our lives stresses us out, but too much stress makes it harder to find meaning." —Dr. Rangan Chatterjee, author of The Stress Solution

Yesterday, for the entire day, aside from letting my pups outside from time to time and feeding them, I wallpapered. I turned on old British cosy mysteries (Poirot with David Suchet), and went to town (hopefully) transforming my primary bedroom from a gray space to a French/English Countryside cottage space.

After such focused projects, I sleep deeply. Stress? Nonexistent.

Dr. Rangan Chatterjee explains in The Stress Solution how when you've found something you love "time, and even you sense of self, will seem to vanish when you're busy with it." Yep, this is the 'flow state' we've heard so much about. Your emotional brain finds it difficult to grab your attention as your rational brain is being fully encouraged to grow he further teaches. All of this is to say, any negative thoughts, cannot grab hold because you are intently engrossed in something your full attention needs to be engaged with.

Dr. Chatterjee shares more specifically as psycholoist Mihaly Csikszemtimihalyi (who coined the phrase - flow state) found, flow is only fully reached when we are challenged. Which makes it all the more important to find something to give your attention to regularly you not only love doing but also steadily gives you the opportunity to grow.

All of this is to say, we can alleviate and solve the problem of unnecessary stress in our lives. And when we do so, not only will our overall health improve - in the short and long term, but we will deepen the daily contentment we experience and improve our everyday lives.

Part of struggle in America with eradicating stress is whether the culture will admit it or not, it (and I am choosing a non-human pronoun intentionally as we unhelpfully give the culture control over our lives as though we cannot change it - as though it is concrete) thrives when we are stressed. Economically, when people need something, or feel they need something (remember 'false needs' from episode #298), they feel inadequate or lacking, so they do or buy or change which requires 'something else' which keeps us out of the present moment.

Back to the pronoun of it to describe the culture which we think we don't have control over. We do.

Morrie Schwartz, the man of insightful wisdom about living and dying well introduced to readers through Mitch Albom's book Tuesdays with Morrie, expressed and beautifully exemplified the need to cultivate your own culture if the one presented by the world does not work for you.

"Morrie, true to these words, had developed his own culture—long before he got sick. Discussion groups, walks with friends, dancing to his music in the Harvard Square church. He started a project called Greenhouse, where poor people could receive mental health services. He read books to find new ideas for his classes, visited with his colleagues, kept up with old students, wrote letters to distant friends. he took more time eating and looking at nature and wasted no time in front of TV sitcoms . . . he had created a cocoon of human activities—conversations, interations, affection—and it filled his life like an overflowing soup bowl." —Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

Alleviating our lives of stress will take courage - in grand, but many seemingly small ways, practiced every day until they become a healthy habit of being present.

So how can we resolve the stress problem? Dr. Chatterjee has created an acronym L.I.V.E.

L —Do Something You Love, find your flow state and engage in it regularly (often)

I — Do Something With Intent, be present fully in each day and revel in the pleasures of the little details of life which are everywhere if only we'd look. Being present enables our sight to improve and thus elevate the quality of our everyday experience. (I share an example of one such everyday moment in the conclusion of this post.)

V — Develop a Long-Term Vision, Chatterjee sites Viktor Frankl, an Austrian psychiatrist whose approach to psychiatry, the world of psychiatry calls the third school following Freud and Adler. Frankl’s theory is that “the primary motivation of an individual is the search for meaning in life and that the primary purpose of psychotherapy should be to help the individual find that meaning.” Frankl, having survived Auschwitz, found the key difference was the ability to focus on what needed to be done to live because he had a sense of purpose, a long-term goal. Chatterjee sums up, "When we know the 'why' of our lives, we automatically reduce our stress load. Research indicates that we're able to endure short-term struggles with much more resilience if they're helping us achieve our long-term goals."

E —Do Something That Makes You Engage With Others, the engagement need not be a large social event, in fact, the engagement Dr. Chatterjee references is of giving to others - doing something that is helpful, useful, contributing positively in some way that is meaningful to someone else, someone who may really need what you can give.

Of course, there are MANY other choices and habits needed in our daily lives to reduce our stress and Dr. Chatterjee details them all with helpful specifics to incorporate into your routine. Below is a general list:

First and most important: Find your purpose and meaning. How? "Find periods of calm space to stop and think and then pursue one or more new activities that you are passionate about . . . People with a strong sense of purpose enjoy significantly better health compared to those who don't including less likelihood of developing heart disease, strokes and depression. Research also shows that they sleep better and live longer . . . and live happier lives."

Discover your raison d'être (reason for being). Give yourself the time to come to understand your true purpose, not society's, not your parents', not your spouse's, not your boss's. (explore TSLL's 2nd book to unearth your unique journey and direction)

Get enough sleep each night (what is 'enough'? what you need to leave you refreshed and rested when you wake up)

Prioritize regular exercise - aerobic, strength and mental (yoga, meditation, etc.)

Eat a diverse, rich, whole, unprocessed diet of food - Eat the Alphabet he emphasizes on p. 144 in the book

Find time to be intimate with those you love and care about - put down your phone more often and have 3D connections - eyes, touch, voice.

Exercise your gratitude muscle every day - journal at the end of every day or anytime for 2-3 minutes, and ponder the 3-Ps - Person, Pleasure and Promise (someone who you are grateful for from your current day; something that brought you pleasure - a cup of tea, a beautiful memory made with someone; think about something that holds promise for a beautiful tomorrow/future)

Attentively select the soundtrack of your days - relaxing music, silence, turning down the 'noise'

Let yourself feel your feelings - have a good cry if that is what you need and then follow with deep breaths afterwards to move through whatever needs to be released.

Find healthy ways to release stress - becoming self-aware and strengthening your emotional intelligence will enable you to notice when you are stressed. Often, it is simply paying attention to how you are breathing. Have ready practices which help you to reduce or release what has built up (such as the item mentioned above - have a good cry). Having a good uncontrollable laugh for example or coming back to your breath and breathing deeply.

Create healthy rhythms in your daily life - sleep, eating, exercising, connecting, winding down

Limit your time on your smart phone and especially social media sites - Dr. Chatterjee explains how with constant exposure to social media sites, he calls it 'Facebook Brain', our emotional brains become overreactive. "Your brain starts to sense danger even when there's no danger present". But keep in mind, this is not just for FB. Come to understand how social media is designed (building the uncertainty addiction, so we keep 'checking'), and put yourself in the drivers' seat. Turn off notifications, set phone limits, remove your phone entirely from social time with others (out of sight), take notes in an actual small notebook rather than putting it in your phone, try using 'greyscale' on your phone to make it less desirable to view, consume less news - remove those apps, respect others personal boundaries of weekends and work hours and don't fill their inbox or their incoming texts except during hours reasonable for the relationship you have with them, and when it comes to music - buy a record player or CD player to step away from the tech, but still enjoy your time with music.

Delay gratification - exercise your self-control muscle - the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex area of the brain. Doing so will reduce impulse decisions when temptations appears. How to strengthen the muscle? Engage in tasks that require effort and practice - learn a new language - French perhaps? :), be inspired by The Queen's Gambit and learn chess, and yes, even play a computer game that requires skill and patience.

Welcome more nature into your daily routine - step outside to walk, to gaze at the sky, to feel the sun's warmth on your face and let yourself feel it. My dogs are my constant destressors and their companionship is priceless.

Switch off regularly and without apology.

"Your world is defined not by the books you've read but by your actions. That simple intervention is your first step. Take it." —Dr. Rangan Chatterjee

Sunday morning, five am. The boys ask for their first outdoor exploration while I prepare their breakfast. Tapping and trotting back into the house, they dine. I turn the stove top burner on to full heat to boil water. I select a teapot, the tea and wait while music from a favorite playlist transports my mind to beautiful memories of France. The beloved old copper tea kettle rattles and steam rises from its spout. Pouring the hot water into my teapot, I simply delight in my boys, their presence, their good health at such advanced ages, and I smile.

Savoring the everydays, finding peace in knowing the direction I have chosen for my life and being grateful for the opportunity to immerse myself in activities I love has given my life the strength to purge the stress which used to weigh it down. Understanding how stress presents itself and whittles its way into our lives is crucial to being able to free ourselves from its pains. I highly recommend The Stress Solution for clear, easy to understand insight into stress and what our lives truly need to feel good and buoyant and fully human as we live our one and only life.

Step one - find your raison d'être and travel forward from there. :)

~explore Dr. Rangan Chatterjee's The Stress Solution: The 4 Steps to a Calmer, Happier, Healthier You

Petit Plaisir

~Recipe for Brown Butter Lemon Sugar Crêpes

~explore Martha Homberg's cookbook - Crêpes: 50 Savory and Sweet Recipes

~Watch how to flip a crêpe here in episode #6, season 3 of The Simply Luxurious Kitchen

Tune in to the latest episode of The Simple Sophisticate podcast