#Unbreakable vow

[kedavravravra]

A special little something I custom-made for a dear friend. As a fan of glowy stuff, I obviously had to take a pic ✨️

[lulublack90]

Prompt 19 - Unbreakable Vow

@wolfstarmicrofic March 19, word count 391

 Remus was tumbling through an old book of ancient magic that Sirius had stolen from his family library to give to Remus as a birthday present. 

Remus was enjoying learning about all the old magics that he knew nothing about and learning a bit more in-depth about the ones he knew. 

He flipped the page over and read the next spell, the Unbreakable Vow. 

“My family tried to get me to make one of those one.” Sirius perched his head on Remus’s shoulder, making him jump. He’d been engrossed in his book.

Remus cleared his throat. 

“What were they trying to get you to make a vow over?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Oh, they wanted me to swear that I wouldn’t disgrace the House of Black.” He said as if it were a simple request. 

“Godric, Sirius. Did you make it?” Remus could think of multiple ways Sirius had brought at least some disgrace to his family’s name since the summer. 

“No, of course not. I’d be long dead by now. No, Great Uncle Alphard managed to get them to stop as he pointed out that any little slip-up and they’d be out an heir. It sucks for them because they ended up losing an heir anyway, but at least I live to bring disgrace to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.” He nuzzled his nose into Remus’s neck. Remus snorted as Sirius’s hair tickled him. “Thanks for helping with that, by the way.” Remus pulled his head back and looked questioningly at Sirius. 

“My family have no use for male family members who prefer the company of men and having you at my side, and nothing they can do about it must be making so many of my ancestors spin in their ridiculous mausoleum tombs.” Remus raised his eyebrows as mischief flashed in his eyes. 

“Oh, so I’m a trophy gay? Just keeping me around to look good and annoy your family?” Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’s shoulders. 

“Hmmm, yes. My incredibly sexy trophy boyfriend who just so happens to be gay. Who, I am about to take upstairs and allow him to disgrace my family name just a bit more. 

Liking the sound of that, Remus shut his book and hurried after Sirius as they climbed the stairs to the boy’s dorms.      

[basiatlu]

Timelapse for Day Two: Moon

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Summer After | Sebastian Sallow x OC #3

Summary: In the the summer after fifth year, Sebastian finally faces Ominis and Evangeline, grappling with the weight of his choices and the trust he's shattered. Sebastian resolves to rebuild what he’s broken, even if it takes a lifetime.

Words: 5,536

Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Unspoken Feelings, Post-Canon Reconciliation, Friends to Lovers (Implied), Regret and Redemption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unbreakable Vows, Self-Reflection and Healing

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

The midday sun cast long, warm beams over Feldcroft’s rolling fields, but the cottage where Sebastian now lived alone stood cloaked in an uneasy quiet. The village, once filled with happy memories and bustling with the sounds of his youthful summers, felt vacant, haunted. Sebastian hadn't left the cottage for days—his world narrowed to its stone walls and shadowed corners. Letters from Ominis and Evangeline had been his only ties to the outside, and even those carried a weight that was hard to bear.

Inside, Sebastian paced, glancing nervously at the door, and then out the window toward the path that led from the village. He wasn’t prepared for Ominis and Evangeline's visit. Though he’d written often over the summer, he hadn’t let himself imagine facing either of them again.

He was adjusting the chairs for the third time when he finally saw two figures approaching. His breath caught as he recognized them: Ominis, walking with his careful precision, his arm linked with Evangeline’s. She walked beside him, beautiful as ever, her dark hair lifted by the breeze, eyes cast downward until they reached the threshold.

Sebastian opened the door, and the three stood there, locked in the kind of silence only deep closeness and months of estrangement could create. Ominis nodded slightly, his expression as neutral as Sebastian expected. But Evangeline—she met his eyes for the briefest moment, her face soft yet unreadable, the kind of expression he’d only seen once, back when they first met. He felt a pull, wanting to say so much but knowing that words would barely scratch the surface of all he needed to tell her.

“Sebastian,” Ominis began, his voice firm but gentle, breaking the silence.

"Come in."

Sebastian opened the door, and the three of them stood there, caught in the kind of silence that only deep closeness and months of estrangement could create. Ominis inclined his head slightly, his expression as neutral as Sebastian expected. But Evangeline—she met his gaze for the briefest moment, her face soft yet unreadable, carrying an impassive expression he’d only seen once, back when they first met. He felt a pull, a desperate urge to say something, anything, though he knew that no words could encompass all that had built up between them.

“Sebastian,” Ominis finally said, his voice steady but softened by a note of concern.

"Come in," Sebastian managed, stepping aside.

They entered in a stilted silence, the cottage feeling suddenly unfamiliar with them there. Sebastian hadn’t realized how much he’d let the place slip into disarray: his books lay scattered across the table, a half-eaten loaf of bread sat beside an untouched tea cup, and the air was thick, stale.

Ominis ran a hand along the back of a chair, his fingers tracing the dust, his brow creasing. “I would have hoped,” he began, his voice carrying a gentle reprimand, “that you’d at least open a window once in a while.”

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by the state of the room. “Hadn’t thought much about it,” he muttered.

Ominis turned his head toward him, pausing before speaking. “Have you been eating?” he asked, his tone shifting as he added, “You lookk like you’ve lost half your weight.” His voice was gentle, but there was a pointed concern in his words, one that seemed to linger in the air.

Sebastian blinked, taken aback, and opened his mouth to brush off the comment—until he really looked at them both, in return. Ominis was paler than usual, with dark shadows under his eyes that he hadn’t noticed at first. There was a weariness etched into his features, a toll that even his usual composure couldn’t hide. And Evangeline… her once-pleasant fullness had faded; she looked thinner, and though she stood with a kind of resilience, her frame seemed almost fragile, her cheeks hollowed and her eyes shadowed by exhaustion. He felt a sick twist in his stomach, disliking it immediately.

Evangeline hovered near the doorway, her eyes flickering over the room, taking in the disarray with a mixture of concern and something else—maybe disappointment. She held herself tensely, arms crossed as if guarding herself from the ghosts this place harbored. Sebastian swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her silence, heavier than any words she could have spoken.

Ominis gave a short sigh and tilted his head in Evangeline’s direction. “Anyway. We didn’t come to judge your housekeeping. But we do need to know that you’re… managing.” His voice softened, a rare crack in his usual steady tone. "We've been worried."

Sebastian’s gaze fell, tracing the worn wood of the floorboards beneath his feet. “Managing,” he echoed, almost to himself. The word felt distant. Truthfully, he hadn’t really been managing at all—he’d been surviving, barely getting by each day without letting the weight of his mistakes crush him. And now, standing before them, his failures seemed laid bare in every corner of the neglected room.

“I'm fine," he lied, glancing up at Evangeline, and hoping, irrationally, to find some trace of the warmth he’d once taken for granted. But her expression was shuttered, her eyes guarded, as if she were steeling herself against him.

Evangeline’s arms tightened across her chest, her gaze unwavering but distant, as if she were seeing past him, into the echoes of what they’d all been through. She let his words hang in the air, their hollowness settling uncomfortably between them.

"Are you?” she finally asked, her voice soft but laced with skepticism. There was no bite, no accusation, only the quiet ache of someone who had been hurt too much to take things at face value anymore.

Sebastian shifted, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He knew she didn’t believe him, knew that the very sight of him probably brought back memories he wished he could erase from her mind. But he couldn’t take back the choices he’d made, the lines he’d crossed. All he could do was stand there and feel the weight of her disappointment settle over him like a shroud.

Ominis cleared his throat, breaking the silence with a gentleness that bordered on exasperation. "There's no point in lying to us, Sebastian."

Sebastian sighed, his eyes drifting from Ominis to Evangeline before he nodded, forcing himself to adopt a semblance of calm. “Right,” he muttered, gesturing toward the fireplace. “Let’s sit.”

They each took their seats, with Ominis in his usual steady posture, Evangeline cautiously perching on the edge of her chair, and Sebastian sinking into his as though its worn cushions might somehow absorb his unease. The room felt unbearably still as they arranged themselves, the crackling of the fire the only sound to fill the silence.

Evangeline shifted, her gaze fixed on the flames. The light cast shadows over her hollowed face, highlighting a softness in her expression that was at odds with her guarded posture. Sebastian studied her, feeling an old longing bloom within him—a futile hope that she might still see something in him worth salvaging. But he couldn’t tell if her quietness stemmed from anger, sorrow, or perhaps both.

“Look,” he started, breaking the silence with a low, uneven voice, “I know I’ve been… distant. Not just now, but for months. I know you probably think…” He trailed off, glancing down, the words snagged in his throat. How could he explain the depth of his remorse? How could he make them understand that he barely understood it himself?

Ominis tilted his head toward him, his face softening in a way that Sebastian recognized—an invitation to speak, no matter how difficult it might be. “We’re here now, Sebastian. Whatever it is, we’re listening.”

Sebastian swallowed, his fists clenching unconsciously. “I’ve thought about it—everything that happened—every single day since then. It’s like I’m living in a memory, or a nightmare, or maybe both.” He looked up, meeting Ominis’s steady gaze and then turning, almost unwillingly, toward Evangeline. “And it’s like every letter, every reminder that you’re both still… here, it almost makes it worse. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve either of you still caring, after what I did.”

Ominis shifted, his fingers steepled thoughtfully as he considered Sebastian. “No one is expecting you to undo the past,” he said carefully. “But we’re hoping—I’m hoping—that you’ll take the steps to start making things right. That you’ll show us, somehow, that you’re still the person we believed in. Even if he’s buried under layers of… regret.” His tone softened, almost imperceptibly.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened as he nodded, the glimmer of possibility—the chance to rebuild, even in fragments—bringing a hesitant warmth to the heavy ache in his chest. He looked back to Evangeline, searching her face for any hint of forgiveness. Her expression, still guarded, softened just enough that he dared to believe she might still want him there. That she might still believe he could become someone worthy of her trust again.

With a deep breath, Sebastian finally whispered, “I want to try. I just… don’t know where to begin.”

Evangeline took a steadying breath, her sad smile fading as she met Sebastian’s gaze with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. “Why do we starte… being honest. There are things I’ve been holding back—things we’ve both held back—because…” She trailed off, searching for the right words, glancing toward Ominis as if looking for confirmation.

Ominis nodded, his face softening as he turned toward Sebastian. “Because we didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he finished, his voice quiet but unwavering. “But in doing that, we’ve been tearing ourselves apart. And it’s not sustainable, Sebastian. It's not fair.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened as their words sank in, each syllable like a stone dropped into the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t realized how deeply his actions had rippled, how much pain they’d taken on in silence, just to spare him. “I never… I never wanted you to feel like that,” he said, his voice rough with the weight of his guilt.

Evangeline’s expression softened, but her gaze remained piercing. “You say that,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “but you made your choices knowing that they’d hurt us. You knew that we’d be left picking up the pieces.” She blinked, looking away as if fighting to keep her composure. “I just don’t understand how we mattered so little in that moment."

The raw vulnerability in her voice struck Sebastian like a blow, and he felt a hollow ache settle in his chest. “You did matter,” he insisted, his own voice breaking. “You have always mattered, Evangeline. Both of you have. I… I just, I couldn't stand by and let Anne wither away. I had to try and fix it-"

“By losing yourself to dark magic?” Ominis interrupted, his voice colder than Sebastian had ever heard it. “You thought you could ‘fix’ things by going down a path that you knew was dangerous, reckless… destructive? Do you have any idea how many nights we spent worrying about what you’d do next? How many times we had to hold each other back from going after you, just to make sure you wouldn’t get yourself killed?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but no words came.

Evangeline’s eyes glistened, but she held his gaze, her voice steady. “If we’re going to rebuild anything, Sebastian, we need… assurances.” Her words hung in the air, each one weighted with the gravity of her resolve. “We need to know that you’ll never be pulled in by dark magic again, that you won’t… choose that over us.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, "I swear it,” he said, his voice raw with conviction. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to… to prove that I’m still someone worth believing in. I know it won’t be easy, and I know I’ll never fully undo what I’ve done… but please. You two... you're all I have left. And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make this right," Sebastian finished, his voice breaking as he met their gazes. The weight of his words lingered, a solemn promise that echoed in the quiet room.

Evangeline’s guarded expression softened slightly, though her arms remained crossed, a physical barrier she hadn’t yet let down, “Words and promises are one thing, but..."

Sebastian nodded, his throat tight, but before he could respond, Ominis leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently in Sebastian’s direction. “Sebastian… if you truly mean this, then you should be willing to vow it.”

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. “Vow it?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He knew Ominis wasn’t just asking for any ordinary promise; this was a magical vow, one that would bind him in ways he couldn’t escape.

Ominis tilted his head, his expression unyielding but calm. “Yes. An unbreakable vow,” he said, voice steady and resolute. “If you’re truly committed to making things right, to never letting yourself fall into the darkness again, then swear it here and now.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, the gravity of Ominis’s words pressing down on him. His gaze shifted from Ominis to Evangeline, who watched him with a mixture of wariness and hope, her eyes soft but filled with unshed tears.

He took a steadying breath, his voice low but firm. “I’ll do it,” he said, his conviction unwavering. “I’ll make the vow.”

Evangeline took a steadying breath, “I’ll admit,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I’m relieved to hear that. But, Sebastian…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “If the only thing that keeps you from using dark magic is the fear of losing your life because of a vow, then you’re not doing this for the right reasons.”

Her words hit him like a sharp blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but she continued, her voice growing firmer. “We’ve sacrificed a lot for you.” She glanced at Ominis, who remained silent, his face unreadable but supportive, then returned her gaze to Sebastian. “We’ve kept your secrets, Sebastian. Risked our own standing, our own safety… and all for you. We’ve carried so much of your burden. And that’s why you need to want this for yourself.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He knew she was right, that the vow alone wasn’t enough to repair what he’d broken. A vow bound him to a promise, but it couldn’t force him to change—not truly. That would have to come from him.

“I’m not saying this to be cruel,” she continued, her voice softening but her gaze unyielding. “I’m saying it because I want you to understand what we’ve put on the line for you. Please, don’t make us regret this.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with the truth they carried. Sebastian clenched his jaw, his heart aching at the sheer depth of her disappointment—and her hope. He swallowed, nodding slowly, letting the gravity of her words settle within him.

“You’re right,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I… I’ve put you both through so much. More than I could ever make up for.” He paused, feeling the weight of guilt and regret press down on him. “But I’ll try, Evangeline. I’ll be better. I'll be the friend you both deserve, I promise. I'll vow it.”

Evangeline’s expression flickered with surprise, her lips parting slightly as if she hadn’t expected him to agree so readily. Ominis took a deep breath, standing to retrieve his wand, his expression a mixture of gravity and understanding.

“Very well,” he said softly, his tone taking on an almost ritualistic quality. “Sebastian, if that's what you want, then you’ll make this vow with Evangeline as your binder. I’ll serve as the witness.”

Sebastian’s gaze shifted to Evangeline, and she hesitated, visibly unsettled. But when she looked into his eyes, searching for any trace of insincerity, she seemed to find something that steadied her. She gave a small, determined nod, then rose, extending her right hand toward him. Sebastian took it without hesitation, his grip firm, grounding himself in the warmth of her touch.

Ominis stepped closer, his wand held steadily over their clasped hands. “Sebastian, listen carefully to each term and answer with absolute conviction,” he instructed. “This is no simple promise. Breaking it will result in your demise."

Sebastian nodded, his gaze unwavering as he held onto Evangeline’s hand. He could feel her pulse under his fingers, steady and strong, and he took strength from that—knowing that this vow, this commitment, was the first step in proving how much she and Ominis meant to him.

Ominis placed the tip of his wand on their clasped hands and began the vow, his voice low but powerful. “Sebastian Sallow, do you vow to forsake the use of dark magic for power, choosing knowledge over mastery, study over action?”

Sebastian swallowed, feeling the weight of the words settle over him, then answered, voice steady. “I vow it,” he said, his conviction unwavering. Immediately, a thin stream of fire emitted from Ominis’s wand, wrapping around their hands with a gentle heat that held like an embrace, binding the promise to him.

Ominis continued, his words measured. “Do you vow to prioritize those who stand by you, to never choose the path of darkness over their well-being or safety?”

“I vow it,” Sebastian replied, his voice low but certain. Another stream of fire wove around their hands, intertwining with the first.

Evangeline’s fingers tightened around his, her expression softened, the wariness in her gaze shifting to something closer to belief. Ominis looked between them, his expression still firm but with a gentleness that hadn’t been there before.

“Finally,” Ominis said, his voice softening, “do you vow to pursue the knowledge of dark magic only for understanding, to resist the temptation to wield it for personal gain, and to honor this promise with your life?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, his voice filled with conviction. “I vow it."

The final stream of fire encircled their hands, brightening before fading, sealing the vow in a shimmering, quiet magic. Sebastian felt the power of it settle deep within him, a weight that was both heavy and freeing. He released Evangeline’s hand, the warmth of the vow lingering between them.

Ominis lowered his wand, looking between them. “It’s done,” he murmured, his tone soft yet resolute.

Sebastian nodded, a strange mixture of relief and humility filling him. He looked at Evangeline, and for the first time, saw something in her eyes—a fragile, tentative trust that he hadn’t dared to hope for. Her expression softened, though she kept her distance, as if afraid to let down her guard completely.

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. Ominis sighed, “I think I’ll take a walk,” he said, his voice gentle, though his expression betrayed a hint of worry as he glanced at Evangeline. “I’ll be back soon.”

Evangeline nodded, barely meeting his gaze. Ominis placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder before giving Sebastian a meaningful look. Without another word, he left the cottage, the door closing softly behind him.

As the silence stretched, Sebastian felt the full weight of Evangeline’s presence settle over him—heavy, charged, and filled with unspoken things. He glanced at her, feeling an urge to reach out, to say something that might bridge the chasm he had opened between them. But as his eyes found hers, he saw something flicker there, a flash of fear she barely concealed before looking away. It was a small thing, but it hit him harder than he could have anticipated. She was wary of him—afraid, even.

A knot formed in his stomach, guilt seeping through him like poison. He couldn't blame her, not after everything he’d done, not after what she had witnessed that night, after he’d—Merlin—after he’d killed his uncle. It was only then that he realized, really realized, that the sight of Solomon’s lifeless body haunted her as much as it haunted him.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Evangeline… you’re right to be cautious, after everything you’ve seen. But I swear to you…” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I’m not… that person. I’m not who I was when I… used that relic.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the fire. But her arms slowly relaxed, unfolding from across her chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small signal that she was listening, even if she didn’t yet trust his words.

“I've spent the entire summer,” he continued, “pouring over books, searching through records, trying to understand what the relic did to me. I thought if I could figure out what went wrong, then maybe I could…” He trailed off, his voice thick with regret. “All that matters is that thing… it was only meant to take. And I let it take too much. It nearly cost me everything that mattered to me.” His gaze softened as he searched her face. “It nearly cost me you.”

Evangeline’s gaze flickered, a spark of curiosity mingling with the uncertainty. She shifted, leaning slightly forward as if the weight of her question was too much to keep within herself. “Did you… learn anything about it?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Anything about how it… worked? What it did to you?”

Sebastian swallowed, sensing what she was truly asking. She wanted to know if his actions—the choices he’d made, the lines he’d crossed—had been his own, or if the relic had twisted his will. He met her gaze, steadying himself before answering.

“Yes,” he said softly, gathering his thoughts. “The relic was… ancient, crafted by someone who believed that magic’s greatest strength lay in what could be sacrificed. It was created to heal, but not in any way that made sense, not like the magic we know.” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “To heal, it required sacrifice, a toll. It… took something from whoever used it. Not just a physical price, but something deeper.”

Evangeline’s expression was one of rapt focus, though her eyes held a shadow of dread. He knew she was piecing together the implications, but he pressed on.

“It preys on desperation,” he continued, his voice thick with bitterness. “The more you’re willing to give, the more it demands. And part of what it takes is… your own will, your own sense of… control. Your humanity, even. It’s like you’re willingly giving pieces of yourself away, but you don’t even realize it until…” He trailed off, his eyes darkening as he remembered the last moments with his uncle, the terrifying clarity he’d felt only when it was too late. “Until there’s nothing left to give, nothing left to be. It’s just you and the magic, fused together in this… twisted purpose.”

A shiver ran through Evangeline as she absorbed his words, her expression shifting between horror and sorrow. “So it… it influenced you? Controlled you?”

Sebastian’s throat tightened as he forced himself to answer honestly. “No,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “Not exactly. It… amplified my desperation, my willingness to sacrifice anything to save Anne. But it didn’t make me do what I did. That was still me.” His eyes dropped, shame heavy in his chest. “It didn’t force my hand. I gave it everything willingly… thinking it would be worth it. And that’s on me, not on the relic.”

Evangeline’s gaze softened as he spoke, the lines of her face etched with sorrow and something that looked almost like compassion. “It preyed on you when you were at your lowest,” she murmured, her voice thick with understanding. “And you thought… you thought you could control it.”

He gave a small, bitter laugh. “I was arrogant. I thought I was strong enough to handle it, to… keep myself intact while using it. But I was wrong.”

Evangeline’s lips parted, but she said nothing, her expression shifting into something raw, uncertain. He could see the questions in her eyes, the doubts, and though it pained him to see them, he knew he needed to face them.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now,” he said quietly. “Not easily, anyway. I don’t deserve it. But I just… I need you to know that I’m done with dark magic. Not just because of the vow but because I’m done trying to control things that no one should have control over.” His voice softened, and he took a small step toward her, his hand twitching as if he might reach for hers but stopping himself. “All I want is to… find my way back. To you, to Ominis, to being the person who you put your trust in.”

Evangeline’s expression softened, the guardedness in her eyes easing just a bit. She didn’t reach for him, but there was something in her gaze—a gentleness, an unspoken forgiveness—that made his chest ache with both hope and regret.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice wavering, “I wish… I wish you hadn’t had to learn this the way you did. I wish you hadn’t lost so much… and I wish I hadn’t had to watch you lose yourself.”

He swallowed, his voice tight with emotion as he replied, “I’m so sorry, Evangeline. For what I put you through. For everything.”

Evangeline looked at him for a long while, the silence stretching out between them. Her gaze held a mixture of sadness, confusion, and something else—hurt, maybe, a pain she had kept buried. Finally, she took a breath, her voice steady but laced with an ache that made his chest tighten.

“Sebastian… why didn’t you come to Professor Fig’s funeral?” she asked, her tone soft but insistent, like she’d been holding back the question for months. “You must have known what happened. I… I could have died in the repository fighting Ranrok. And you didn’t even come to see if I was okay. You didn’t even check.”

Sebastian’s heart sank, her words cutting deeper than any curse. He dropped his gaze, unable to look her in the eyes as he struggled to find an answer that might make sense of his choices, choices that seemed so senseless now. He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, shame tightening around his throat.

“I wanted to,” he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought about it every day, wondered how you were, if you were…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair as if he could smooth out the jumble of emotions tightening in his chest. “But I was… I was afraid.”

Evangeline’s brow furrowed, her expression hardening with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “Afraid?” she echoed, her voice brittle.

He flinched, words coming out stilted. "After everything I’d done, after all the damage I caused, I thought… maybe it would be better if I stayed away. I didn’t want to make things worse for you. I thought if I showed up—if you had to look at me, remember what I did—” He stopped, his voice breaking, then took a shuddering breath. “I thought it might only hurt you more.”

Evangeline’s eyes glistened, but her gaze remained steady, unwavering. “So you thought avoiding me would make things better? That I’d just forget what happened?” Her voice wavered, a hint of anger slipping through her grief. “Sebastian, you aren't just anyone to me. You know that right?” She paused, blinking back tears, her voice softening. "You're... you were my best friend, Sebastian. You were the one person I thought I could count on, no matter what. Especially after all the shit you put me through. And when I… when I needed you most, you weren’t there.”

Her words cut through him like a knife, sharp and unyielding, yet layered with a sadness that made his heart ache. He felt his throat tighten, each syllable pressing on the wound he’d tried so hard to bury. Best friend. The words felt fragile now, like something he’d shattered beyond repair.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. “I know I failed you." His voice broke, raw with the weight of everything he hadn’t been able to say. “I was a coward. I should have been there. Evangeline, I can't tell you how deeply sorry I am. Truly.”

He wanted to reach for her, to bridge the gap, but he knew any move would be too much, too soon. Instead, he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I know I can’t erase the past,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes the rest of my life. I… I want to be worthy of being someone you trust."

Evangeline studied him for a long moment, her gaze flickering over his face as if searching for something—perhaps the remnants of the Sebastian she’d once trusted, the friend she’d relied on so deeply. He held his breath, afraid to move, afraid that anything he did would shatter the fragile moment between them.

Then, slowly, she rose from her seat, her expression softening in a way he hadn’t seen in what felt like lifetimes. She took a tentative step toward him, and he felt his heart pound, unable to process what she might do next.

Before he could gather his thoughts, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a gentle but unmistakably real embrace.

Sebastian’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t react, too stunned to even lift his arms. He’d spent months in isolation, cut off from everyone, from everything, and the warmth of her touch felt almost surreal, like something he had only dreamed about in his loneliest moments. He felt the solid warmth of her against him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t experienced in so long that it almost hurt.

After a second that felt both painfully brief and achingly infinite, he brought his arms up slowly, hesitantly, as if he might break her with too much force. His hands settled on her back, and he held her carefully, feeling the weight of her trust—the small, tentative step forward she was offering him.

Sebastian’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t react, too stunned to even lift his arms. He’d spent months in isolation, cut off from everyone, from everything, and the warmth of her touch felt almost surreal, like something he had only dreamed about in his loneliest moments. He felt the solid warmth of her against him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t experienced in so long that it almost hurt.

It was then that the ache in his chest flared into something deeper, sharper. The remorse, the regret, the longing—everything he’d been carrying seemed to rise to the surface, threatening to overflow.

“Evangeline,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry."

The words spilled out, raw and unguarded, his voice trembling with everything he’d buried beneath guilt and silence. But as he held her, something else—something deeper—surfaced alongside his remorse. A feeling he’d kept locked away, hidden even from himself, now slipping free in her embrace.

Sebastian’s heart hammered, his senses overwhelmed not only by her warmth and her familiar scent but by the realization that she was there, close enough to touch, to feel. And in that closeness, he felt the full weight of what he’d tried so hard to ignore for so long: he wasn’t just sorry for betraying her trust. He was sorry for nearly losing the one person he’d come to care for so fiercely it frightened him. He was sorry for letting his desperation take precedence over her, over their friendship, and, painfully, over the chance that there might have been something more between them.

The way she fit in his arms was achingly familiar, like a piece of himself he he never realized was missing until she filled it. The gentle weight of her against him, the warmth radiating through their touch—these things felt like both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of how much he’d kept hidden, how much he’d risked losing.

For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like if she stayed like this, if he could keep her close, safe, away from all the shadows he’d let creep into his life. He tightened his hold, pressing his cheek against her hair, feeling her heartbeat steady against his chest.

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either. Her presence felt like forgiveness and reluctance in equal measure, and he knew that any chance he had of winning her trust again would be slow, delicate—a path he’d have to walk carefully.

But even if it took years, he knew he’d wait. Because he loved her, and as painful as it was to stand on this fragile ground, he couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. If he had to start from the beginning, building back the trust he’d shattered, he would do it. And maybe, someday, he could tell her how much she meant to him. But for now, he settled for this one, fragile embrace, a small glimmer of hope that they might still have a future together, even if that future was yet unwritten.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

[cranetreegang]

Unbreakable - Ominis and Sebastian (Mentions of FemReader)

WARNINGS:

Spoilers For the Quest - In The Shadow of Time and mentions of death

Summary: After the events in the catacombs, Ominis knows there's only one way to ensure Sebastian can never repeat his mistake.

Word Count: ~1,500 words

Read my other Ominis Fics Here

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Ominis paces back and forth in the Undercroft as he awaits for Sebastian to arrive. He hates waiting. With nothing to occupy it, his mind tends to latch onto his more pressing thoughts and he replays what he’s about to say like a broken record. But, he’s not about to back down. He knows this is the only way for the both of them to move forward, or to part from one another once and for all - to put an end to this limbo they’re both fettered in.

The gate shutters open - freezing Ominis in place for a moment - and he turns towards the approaching footsteps.

“Ominis.” Sebastian’s hopeful voice sends a pang of agony through Ominis. They haven’t spoken since he convinced Anne to not turn in Sebastian. He’s conflicted - part of him is overjoyed to hear his friend but another, larger, part of him wants to yell and scream at him. To bang his fists against Sebastian’s chest and tell him what a fool he’s been.

“You wanted to speak to me?” Sebastian sounds optimistic - like nothing has happened. Ominis nearly wants to slip into that fantasy, but he refrains. It will do neither of them good.

“I do.” Ominis steps towards Sebastian. “I won’t spare you any niceties nor courtesies, and I’ll go straight to the point. I’m having a difficult time of this. Of you.”

“Oh.”

He can hear Sebastian deflate. He’s never heard him - his strong-headed, bigger than life friend - sound so feeble and small. 

“You wish to mend our friendship and to revert back to how things were. But, that can never be.” Ominis’ lip curls, “It was more than just Solomon you killed that day, Sebastian. It was everything we have built as well. My trust. My faith. Destroyed! By your hands. You know this.” Ominis states - his body trembling.

“Is that what you’ve called me down here for? To lecture me?” Sebastian steps towards Ominis. “Well, go ahead. Have at it. I deserve it. I deserve whatever you wish to say to me.” 

Ominis takes a deep breath, “I only wish to ask you something.” 

“Anything.” He replies with no hesitation and in a near pleading tone. It’s hard for Ominis to snuff the sparks igniting his hope that maybe, just maybe, his friend - his brother - still remained.

“Did you mean your promise? When you said you wouldn’t partake in the Dark Arts ever again, did you mean it?” Ominis questions, his face stern and his foggy gaze aiming towards Sebastian.

Sebastian grimaces, but gives a sure nod, “I did. And I do mean it.” 

“Then prove it.” Ominis holds out his arm. “Swear it.”

The air in the room shifts. It’s like a heavy blanket dropped over the two of them and Ominis can feel Sebastian staring at him - and his outstretched arm. He hears his stuttering, heavy breaths through the still silence.

“Ominis, what are you asking?” Sebastian whispers.

Ominis holds his head high and he directs his narrowed eyes towards Sebastian’s voice, “You’ve hurt so many people, Sebastian. In this selfish quest of yours, you’ve ruined all of us. Solomon. Yourself. Anne. Our dear friend. Me!” His voice cracks and he shakes his head to dispel the hurt and anguish that roars within him. “The devastation you’ve wrought, can never be undone. It has, and will forever, taint all of us.” 

“This was never selfish!” Sebastian hisses. “I only did those things for-,”

“She never asked you to!” Ominis roars, silencing Sebastian. “Not once has she asked you to plunge yourself into the darkness which now eats away at your heart. She’s only needed you, Sebastian. That’s all Anne has ever wanted. Is you, to be by her side - her brother supporting her. Instead, you have all but pushed yourself as far away from her as possible. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to be close to her again. You’ve all but killed her with what you’ve done.”

Ominis hears Sebastian’s sharp breath and he can smell the faint salt of tears from his silent cries. Ominis closes his eyes and calms himself.

“And I know you. Better than you know yourself. You’ll always be tempted. So, this is the only way. You know this.” Ominis shoves his outstretched arm towards Sebastian again.

Sebastian lets out an audible gasp, “You wish to make an Unbreakable Vow?” 

Ominis’ nod is stiff and firm - leaving no room for questions, “I do. If you wish to remain in our lives, and to be our friend, our brother, again - then you will do this. You will make the vow to never, ever entertain the Dark Arts again. Or it will be the last thing you do.” 

There’s a long silence and Ominis waits with bated breath for Sebastian’s choice. To have his most dreaded question - that he’s feared the answer to - answered, sends his heart thrashing against his ribs. A pressure slithers around his throat and squeezes tighter and tighter the longer the silence drags on.

Sebastian grabs Ominis’ arm in a strong grasp, “Very well. If this is what it will take. Then so be it.”

Ominis lets out a heavy breath then he aims his wand between their arms and begins the incantation. Tight, thin cords wrap around their joined arms and hands. It sears into his flesh - right past his clothes. They both tighten their grip onto the other’s forearms.

“Do you, Sebastian, swear to never intentionally partake, or indulge, in the Dark Arts again? Not even for Anne.” 

Sebastian audibly swallows, “I swear.” 

“Do you swear to never cast another Unforgivable Curse? Not even if your life, or someone else’s life, depended on it.” 

“I swear. I will never use the Dark Arts again.” Sebastian replies with a surness that rekindles Ominis’ hope for him.

Ominis lets out a relieved breath - the spell sealing his promise - and their arms fall back to their sides.

Sebastian steps away as he flexes his hand, “What does this mean? For us?” 

Ominis closes his eyes, “It means; it’s the start of something new.” 

Ominis smiles, and Sebastian does the same.

“Thank you, Ominis.” Sebastian murmurs in a shaky voice. “For not giving up on me.”

Ominis has a sad smile and it twists his eyes to create a somber expression, “You never gave up on me. You never give up on anyone. It’s a trait I admire most in you - even now.” 

Ominis steps towards Sebastian and places a strong hand on his shoulder, “I won’t let you suffer through this alone, Sebastian. We’re all here for you. We can all find a way to help Anne. You just have to trust, and believe, in that. Have faith that we will find a way.”

Sebastian puts his hand over Ominis’ and gives it a squeeze, “You sound just like our friend.”

Ominis grins with a slight laugh, “I suppose her optimism is quite infectious.” 

Sebastian chuckles, “I think so.” He pauses with a frown, “Will you tell her what we’ve done?”

Ominis shakes his head - releasing his grasp on Sebastian, “No. This is between us.”

Sebastian nods, “Then between us, this shall remain.” He lowers his gaze, “I know this won’t completely fix everything. And I won’t stop trying to earn back your trust and your forgiveness. But, it does feel good to know you aren’t completely out of my life.” 

Sebastian grabs both of Ominis’ shoulders, “You’re my brother, Ominis. You’re important to me. I know I haven’t treated you like it, and I will do everything I can from now on to make up for it. Because I do love you. And I hate this is what it took to make me realize it.”

Ominis almost can’t believe the sincerity in Sebastian’s words. He can’t recall there ever being a time when Sebastian was truly this heartfelt and earnest. The nagging voice in his head whispers to him that this is just Sebastian manipulating him once more. The burning threads of their vow still sting his skin and it’s enough to silence the doubt.

“The bond we share is far deeper than that of blood.” Ominis says. “You are my brother too, Sebastian. In every sense of the word. And I love you as well. With that, I will do my best to begin to forgive you. The road ahead will be difficult. But, I believe you’ll manage. I still believe in you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian has a small smile and lets out a slight cough, “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my leave before we spill our hearts further.” He takes a step away from Ominis towards the exit.

Ominis laughs, “Perish the thought.” He heads towards the exit with Sebastian, “It should be dinner by now. And I can't think of a better way to begin our new friendship, than with a hearty meal.” 

“Sounds like a wonderful idea.” Sebastian grins and follows after Ominis.

Ominis knows they can never regain what they once had. But, he believes, with all his heart, something else will bloom in its place. And for him, that’s enough.

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AN: I am aware that the MC is only mentioned here, but this will be an important piece for later. Got some big plans... big plans >:)

Honestly, this was really the only way I could see ominis and sebastian ever realistically being friends again. without the looming worry of seb doing the dark arts, that's the only way omi could ever try to heal their relationship together and to start to trust seb again. and for seb to make the big leap with this vow, just proves to omi that seb does want to change. but that's just my thoughts on that (i mean obvi that's my thoughts about it as i wrote a whole freaking piece about it idk why im even typing this out rn)

also the breaking bread/sharing a meal bit was probs on the nose, but eh whatever

As always, feedback is always welcomed, dm's always opened, and i love all of you semi-equally <3

[braveclementine]

Prologue

Warnings: 18+ readers only, mentions of smut, mentions of nudity

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕳𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖓 his small house, ignoring the outside world, completely immersed in the sheets of his bed, kissing the love of his life, when there was a knock at the door. His wife showed the most fleeting of emotion of fear, and then was gone, having turned into a small black animal with white paws and green eyes.

She called herself a cat but she was more of a kitten- to small to be called a cat. She was already by the door, not needing to have gotten dressed. He however, quickly threw his clothes on and smoothed his hair back, checking himself in the mirror before he left the bedroom door. He looked almost completely normal though perhaps his cheeks were slightly flushed more than normal.

She was on his heels as he walked out of the room and into the sitting room and opened the door. Elizabeth climbed onto the sofa and was stretching. Sometimes she was so catlike he could forget she was an Animagus.

There were two women standing on the front steps and his anger increased. So he'd left his lovely wife for these two? What the hell did they want?

"Narcissa, what a pleasant surprise. . . and Bellatrix. . . not so pleasant." He said, opening the door wider and letting them come in.

"Snape." Bellatrix said curtly, as she came in.

"Severus, I must speak with you, it's urgent." Narcissa pleaded.

"But of course."

He gestured the sofa to Narcissa and she threw her cloak off and casted it aside and sat down, her white hands, trembling, clasped in her lap. Bellatrix lowered her hood and did not take her gaze off of him as she moved to stand behind her sister.

He lowered himself into an arm chair and Elizabeth jumped up onto his lap, curling up into a ball and closing her large green eyes.

"Is that an Animagus?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes now on Elizabeth.

He snorted, playing casual and dismissive though his heart started to beat just a little irregularly. "Of course not. She was born from my last cat. Only a year old now. So unless your saying Animagus can be born, Bellatrix. . ."

"I was just asking." Bellatrix snapped.

His lip curled. One of Elizabeth's ears twitched but other than her tail, nothing else moved. "So what can I do for you?" He asked, looking at Narcissa.

"We. . . we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly.

"Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin are we?" He asked and flicked his wand towards the wall of books which revealed the hidden staircase where Wormtail had been hidden, listening. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests."

Wormtail crept into the room. His small eyes were watery and he was wearing that horrible simpering look Severus hated so much. "Narcissa!" He squeaked, his hands coming up in front of his chest like paws. "And Bellatrix! How Charming-"

"Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them. And then he will return to his bedroom." Severus said in a lazy voice and added in his head, 'and hopefully you two will leave and I can go back to mine'. Unconsciously, he laid his hand on Elizabeth's head and started to pet it. She purred with content.

"I am not your servant!" Wormtail squeaked and he noticed that he had avoided his eyes.

"Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." He said, trying to sound amused.

"To assist, yes- but not to make you drinks and- and clean your house!" Wormtail argued. Not that he did much cleaning in the first place. Elizabeth usually ended up doing it when Wormtail left. And of course, he didn't want that but she always insisted, saying she needed something to do. But perhaps it was simply because of what she'd said before- not taking anything for granted.

"I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments." He said silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord-"

"I can speak to him myself if I want to!" Wormtail said, enraged.

"Of course you can." He was sneering now, "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Wormtail hesitated for a moment and then went away through a different hidden door. In fact, if a Muggle were to enter the house, they would think the sitting room was the only room in the house, despite the size of it on the outside. Every door in the main room was hidden. There were banging sounds in the kitchen and then Wormtail came back with a dusty bottle and three glasses and slammed the other hidden door behind him as he went up the stairs.

He got up, putting Elizabeth down on the floor so that he pour the three glasses of red wine and gave each other to the others, taking his own and moving to sit back down and saw that Elizabeth had jumped back up on the chair, curling up in the middle of it.

"Damn cat," he sighed, putting his glass of wine on the side table and picked her up and put her on his lap. She stretched out like a rug, purring. He petted her as though she were a real cat and damn, she really was acting like it. It must be a gift of hers- acting. She'd managed to convince Dolores Umbridge that Sirius was hiding in Thailand- not that it mattered now. He tried not to think of Sirius.

"The Dark Lord." He said, raising the glass. Bellatrix and Narcissa copied him and he refilled their glasses.

Then Narcissa said, "Severus, I'm sorry to come here like this, but I had to see you. I think you are the only one who can help me-"

Severus held his hand up and pointed his wand back at the bookcase. There was a loud band and he heard Wormtail squeal and there were footsteps up the stairs as he ran away like the little coward he was.

"My apologies." He said calmly, "He has lately taken to listening at doors, I don't know what he means by it. . . You were saying Narcissa?"

"Severus, I know I ought not to be here, I have been told to say nothing to anyone, but-"

"Then you ought to hold your tongue! Particularly in present company!" Bellatrix snapped, interrupting her sister.

"'Present Company'? And what am I to understand by that, Bellatrix?" He asked.

"That I don't trust you, Snape, as you very well know!" She exclaimed.

Narcissa let out a sob and covered her face with her hands. Elizabeth's ear twitched again. She hated when people cried, no matter who they were.

He set his glass down on the table and sat back, putting one arm lazily across the arm of the chair and petted Elizabeth with the other. "Narcissa, I think we ought to hear what Bellatrix is bursting to say; it will save tedious interruptions. Well, continue, Bellatrix. Why is it that you do not trust me?" He sounded amused. Good.

"A hundred reasons!" Bellatrix said so loudly that he didn't doubt Wormtail could hear from upstairs. She strode around the sofa and slammed her glass down on the table too. "Where to start! Where were you when the Dark Lord fell? Why did you never make any attempt to find him when he vanished? When have you been doing all these years that you've lived in Dumbledore's pocket? Why did you stop the Dark Lord procuring the Sorcerer's Stone? Why did you not return at once when the Dark Lord was reborn? Where were you a few weeks ago when we battled to retrieve the prophecy for the Dark Lord? Why haven't you handed over Elizabeth Kane? And why, Snape, is Harry Potter still alive, when you have had him at your mercy for five years!"

He had to cover a wince because Elizabeth had dug her claws into his leg when Bellatrix mentioned the duel for the prophecy. She meowed softly and turned her head away from the sisters as though rolling over and he saw tears coming out of her large green eyes and she quickly closed them.

Bellatrix was breathing hard, having gotten everything off of her chest and he smiled. "Before I answer you- oh yes, Bellatrix, I am going to answer! You can carry my words back to the others who whisper behind my back, and carry false tales of my treachery to the Dark Lord! Before I answer you, I say, let me ask you a question in turn. Do you really think that the Dark Lord has not asked me each and every one of those questions? And do you really think that, had I not bee able to give satisfactory answers, I would be sitting here talking to you?"

He felt Elizabeth shift on his lap again.

Bellatrix hesitated. "I know he believes you, but. . ."

"You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen!" He continued, raising an eyebrow. Oh yes, he'd kept the Dark Lord out of his mind mostly. He had to protect Elizabeth of course. If he found they were married. . . if he even found out he had feelings for Elizabeth. . .

Bellatrix remained silent.

Of course. . . they weren't really married. . . yet. . . her father wouldn't let her until she turned of age. . .

"You ask where I was when the Dark Lord fell. I was where he had ordered me to be, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because he wished me to spy upon Albus Dumbledore. You know, I presume, that it was on the Dark Lord's orders that I took up the post?"

Bellatrix gave the slightest of nods and then opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her and said, "You ask why I did not attempt to find him when he vanished. For the same reason that Avery, Yaxley, the Carrows, Greyback, Lucius and many others did not attempt to find him. I believed him finished. I am not proud of it, I was wrong, but there it is. . . If he had not forgiven we who lost faith at that time, he would have very few followers left."

"He'd have me! I, who spent many years in Azkaban for him!" Bellatrix said with a passion.

"Yes, indeed, most admirable. Of course, you weren't a lot of use to him in prison, but the gesture was undoubtedly fine-" Severus said in a bored voice.

"Gesture! While I endured the dementors, you remained at Hogwarts, comfortably playing Dumbledore's pet!" Bellatrix shrieked.

"Not quite. He wouldn't give me the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, you know. Seemed to think it might, ah, bring about a relapse. . . tempt me into my old ways."

"This was your sacrifice for the Dark Lord, not to teach your favorite subject? Why did you stay there all that time, Snape? Still spying on Dumbledore for a master you believed dead?" Bellatrix jeered.

Severus felt a brief flicker of annoyance. He still wasn't entirely sure why Dumbledore didn't give him the post. That was the reason he'd come up with.

"Hardly, although the Dark Lord is pleased that I never deserted my post: I had sixteen years of information on Dumbledore to give him when he returned, a rather more useful welcome-back present than endless reminiscences of how unpleasant Azkaban is. . ." Severus said calmly.

"But you stayed-"

"Yes, Bellatrix, I stayed." Severus said, starting to get impatient. Elizabeth rolled over onto her back, stretching her legs upwards and then collapsed onto her side. "I had a comfortable job that I preferred to a stint in Azkaban. They were rounding up the Death Eaters, you know. Dumbledore's protection kept me out of jail; it was most convenient and I used it. I repeat: The Dark Lord does not complain that I stayed, so I do not see why you do."

But he continued, not giving her a chance to interrupt, "I think you next wanted to know, why I stood between the Dark Lord and the Sorcerer's Stone. That is easily answered. He did not know whether he could trust me. He thought, like you, that I had turned from faithful Death Eater to Dumbledore's stooge. He was in a pitiable condition, very weak, sharing the body of a mediocre wizard. He did not dare reveal himself to a former ally if that ally might turn him over to Dumbledore or the Ministry. I deeply regret that he did not trust me. He would have returned to power three years sooner. As it was, I saw only greedy and unworthy Quirrell attempting to steal the stone and, I admit, I did all I could to thwart him."

"But you didn't return when he came back, you didn't fly back to him at once when you felt the Dark Mark burn-" Bellatrix started and he winced as he felt teeth on his fingers and looked down. Elizabeth had curled up in a ball around his hand and had bitten his fingers very softly. He rolled his eyes.

"Correct." he stated, not moving his hand. "I returned two hours later. I returned on Dumbledore's orders."

"On Dumbledore's-?" Bellatrix sounded outraged.

He was impatient now, "Think! Think! By waiting two hours, just two hours, I ensured that I could remain at Hogwarts as a spy! By allowing Dumbledore to think that I was only returning to the Dark Lord's side because I was ordered to, I have been able to pass information on Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix ever since! Consider, Bellatrix: The Dark Mark had been growing stronger for months. I knew he must be about to return, all the Death Eaters knew! I had plenty of time to think about what I wanted to do, to plan my next move, to escape like Karkaroff, didn't I?"

And he had. He had certainly considered taking Elizabeth and leaving. Australia, Japan, America. He wondered if Elizabeth would've gone with him. He wondered if the Dark Lord would've followed him across countries to kill him and his wife.

"The Dark Lord's initial displeasure at my lateness vanished entirely, I assure you, when I explained that I remained faithful, although Dumbledore thought I was his man. Yes, the Dark Lord thought that I had left him forever, but he was wrong."

"But what use have you been? What useful information have we had from you?" Bellatrix sneered at him.

"My information has been conveyed directly to the Dark Lord. If he chooses not to share it with you-" He started.

"He shares everything with me!" Bellatrix said, firing up at once, "He calls me his most loyal, his most faithful-"

"Does he? Does he still, after the fiasco at the Ministry?" He jeered now.

Her claws dug into his leg again.

"That was not my fault! The Dark Lord has, in the past, entrusted me with his most precious- if Lucius hadn't-"

"Don't you dare- don't you dare blame my husband!" Narcissa said in a low deadly voice.

"There is no point apportioning blame, what is done, is done." He said in a smooth voice.

"But not by you!" Bellatrix said furiously. Elizabeth's heard perked up, her ears twitching. "No, you were once again absent while the rest of us ran dangers, were you not, Snape?"

"My orders were to remain behind. Perhaps you disagree with the Dark Lord, perhaps you think that Dumbledore would not have noticed if I had joined forces with the Death Eaters to fight the Order of the Phoenix? And-"

Elizabeth was sitting up on her haunches. He went on, trying not to sound nervous, "-forgive me- you speak of dangers. . . you were facing ten teenagers, one of them a formerly captured captive and no idea how to cast magic, were you not?"

"They were joined, as you very well know, by half the Order before long! And, while we are on the subject of the Order, you still claim you cannot reveal the whereabouts of their headquarters, don't you?" Bellatrix hissed.

Elizabeth sprang and Bellatrix tripped back, raising her wand, but Elizabeth hadn't been aiming for her, but rather a butterfly that had found its way into the room. She carried it triumphantly in her mouth to the corner of the room. He rolled his eyes, but was glad she was still acting like a cat. His heart was pounding greatly in his chest.

He did his best to recover by smirking at Bellatrix's obvious discomfort at Elizabeth's antics.

"I am not the Secret-Keeper; I cannot speak the name of the place. You understand how the enchantment works, I think? The Dark Lord is satisfied with the information I have passed him on the Order. It led, as perhaps you have guessed, to the recent capture and murder of Emmeline Vance, and it certainly helped dispose of Sirius Black, though I give you full credit to finishing him off."

Elizabeth's large green eyes glared at him from the corner. He knew he was going to pay for saying that later but he also knew that he had to keep up appearances and he reluctantly raised his wing glass as though toasting Bellatrix. Elizabeth turned her back on him, her fur raised. He almost sighed aloud.

"You are avoiding my last two questions, Snape. Harry Potter. Elizabeth Kane. You could have killed him at any point in the past five years. You have not done it. You have not handed her over. Why?"

"Have you discussed this matter with the Dark Lord?" He asked, amused.

"He. . . lately we. . . I am asking you, Snape!" Bellatrix said, her cheeks red. He wondered briefly if she was still sleeping with the Dark Lord.

"If I had murdered Harry Potter, the Dark Lord could not have used his blood to regenerate, making him invincible-"

"You claim you foresaw his use of the boy?" She jeered.

"I do not claim it; I had no idea of his plans; I have already confessed that I thought the Dark Lord dead. I am merely trying to explain why the Dark Lord is not sorry that Potter survived, at least until a year ago. . ."

"But why did you keep him alive?"

"Have you not understood me? It was only Dumbledore's protection that was keeping me out of Azkaban! Do you disagree that murdering his favorite student might have turned him against me? But there was more to it than that. I should remind you that when Potter first arrived at Hogwarts there were still many stories circulating about him, rumors that he himself was a great Dark wizard, which was how he had survived the Dark Lord's attack. Indeed, many of the Dark Lord's old followers through Potter might be a standard around which we could all rally once more. I was curious, I admit it, and not at all inclined to murder him the moment he set foot in the castle."

Elizabeth's back was still to him though her fur wasn't bristled anymore. He wondered if she'd actually eaten the butterfly. He doubted it.

"Of course, it became apparent to me very quickly that he had no extraordinary talent at all. He has fought his way out of a number of tight corners by a simple combination of sheer luck and more talented friends. He is mediocre to the last degree, though as obnoxious and self-satisfied as was his father before him. I have done my utmost to have him thrown out of Hogwarts, where I believed he scarcely belongs, but kill him, or allow him to be killed in front of me? I would have been a fool to risk it with Dumbledore close at hand."

Elizabeth was trotting back to where he was sitting and then flopped in a patch of sunlight streaming through the window.

"And through all this we are supposed to believe Dumbledore has never suspected you? He has no idea of your true allegiance, he trusts you implicitly still?" Bellatrix asked.

"I have played my part well. And you overlook Dumbledore's great weakness: He has to believe the best of people. I spun him a tale of deepest remorse when I joined his staff, fresh from my Death Eater days, and he embraced me with open arms- though, as I say, never allowing me nearer the Dark Arts than he could help. Dumbledore has been a great wizard-"

Bellatrix made a scathing noise.

"-oh yes, he has, the Dark Lord acknowledges it. I am pleased to say, however, that Dumbledore is growing old. The duel with the Dark Lord last month shook him. He has since sustained a serious injury because of his reactions are slower than they once were. But through all these years, he has never stopped trusting Severus Snape, and therein lies my great value to the Dark Lord."

Bellatrix opened her mouth and he continued, feeling snappish, "And for Elizabeth Kane? It is highly impossible for me to simply bring her to the Dark Lord. As I have understood it, there have been two attempts at taking her in. The first, she escaped herself because Nott wanted a little. . .fun. The second, the order rescued her. Stupid really, her father fights so hard for her. They never had a chance. And it is for the same reasons as not killing Harry Potter that I have not taken Elizabeth Kane. Both children have a special place in Dumbledore's heart. There is no way for me to possibly take her or kill him without losing my position as a spy."

Nott was eventually going to pay for his stunt, but he wasn't entirely sure how. But the idea of anyone- especially a Death Eater's- kissing Elizabeth, feeling Elizabeth, filled him with rage. But he tried to hide that for the moment.

"Now. . . you came to ask me for help, Narcissa?" He asked, turning to her. The sooner this was over with the sooner he could get back in bed, the sooner he could apologize to Elizabeth, the sooner he could feel her mouth on his, his hands on her supple apples. . .

"Yes, Severus I- I think you are the only one who can help me, I have nowhere else to turn. Lucius is in jail and. . ." Narcissa closed her eyes and two tears trailed out of them and he felt pity in his heart. Damnit, Elizabeth had softened his heart. "The Dark Lord has forbidden me to speak of it. He wishes none to know of the plan. It is. . . very secret. But-"

"If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak. The Dark Lord's word is law." He said very quickly.

Narcissa gasped and Bellatrix looked extremely satisfied and said, "There! Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!"

He got up and closed the curtain. Elizabeth poked her head up in annoyance and hissed at him.

"Oh calm down Eilís" He said and immediately regretted it. It had been the first name that had popped into his mind. A spasm of pain went through her eyes as there were no way to show facial expressions on her feline face and she leapt onto her four paws and walked out of the room.

"It so happens that I know of the plan." He said and he realized he sounded a bit dull. "I am one of the few the Dark Lord has told. Nevertheless, had I not been in on the secret, Narcissa, you would have been guilty of great treachery to the Dark Lord."

Would she wait for him in the room? Or would she have climbed out the window and left? Oh why had he used that stupid name?

"I thought you must know about it! He trusts you so, Severus. . ." Narcissa said, breathing freely.

"You know about the plan? You know?" Bellatrix said, looking enraged.

"Certainly, but what help do you require, Narcissa? If you are imaging I can persuade the Dark Lord to change his mind, I am afraid there is no hope, none at all."

"Severus, my son. . . my only son. . ." Narcissa whispered, more tears sliding down her pale cheeks. He remembered briefly how Elizabeth had been so fearful about not having children. It must be a woman thing.

"Draco should be proud. The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: He isn't shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect-"

Narcissa began to cry. "That's because he is sixteen and has no idea what lies in store! Why, Severus? Why my son? It is too dangerous! This is vengeance for Lucius's mistake, I know it!"

He looked away, her tears tortured him.

"That's why he's chosen Draco, isn't it? To punish Lucius?" She whispered.

Yes. But he didn't say so.

"If Draco succeeds, he will be honored above all the others." He said slowly.

"But he won't succeed! How can he, when the Dark Lord himself-?" Narcissa sobbed and Bellatrix gasped and Narcissa was suddenly very panicky. "I only meant. . . that nobody has yet succeeded. . . Severus. . . please. . . you are, you have always been, Draco's favorite teacher. . . You are Lucius's old friend. . . I beg you. . . you are the Dark Lord's favorite, his most trusted advisor. . . Will you speak to him, persuade him-"

"The Dark Lord will not be persuaded, and I am not stupid enough to attempt it." He said flatly. "I cannot pretend that the Dark Lord is not angry with Lucius. Lucius was supposed to be in charge. He got himself captured, along with how many others, and failed to retrieve the prophecy into the bargain. Yes, the Dark Lord is angry, Narcissa, very angry indeed."

"Then I am right, he has chosen Draco in revenge! He does not mean him to succeed, he wants him to be killed trying!" Narcissa choked out.

"It was that girls fault!" Bellatrix was saying now hotly. "She told Potter to smash the prophecy and then tricked us saying she always keeps her promises!"

"You mean Elizabeth Kane?" He asked, trying not to sound proud. "That's because she does keep all the promises she makes. You should've known her fingers were crossed. Of course she told Potter to smash the prophecy- she had probably already foreseen the words in her head before they even got there! She knew that it could not land in the Dark Lord's hands!"

But the conversation was interrupted by Narcissa who staggered off the couch and clutched the front of his robes, her tears falling onto his shirt. "You could do it. You could do it instead of Draco, Severus. You would succeed, of course you would, and he would reward you beyond all of us-"

He grabbed her wrists, feeling that this was going to get to personal. He said slowly, "He intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I shall be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer, fulfilling my useful role as spy."

"In other words, it doesn't matter to him if Draco is killed!" Narcissa said.

"The Dark Lord is very angry." He repeated. "He failed to hear the prophecy, he failed to attain Elizabeth Kane. You know as well as I do, Narcissa, that he does not forgive easily."

Narcissa crumpled, falling at his feet, sobbing. "My only son. . . my only son. . ."

"You should be proud!" Bellatrix said unsympathetically. "If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord!"

So maybe it wasn't a womans thing. Just the sweet women wanted children.

Severus started a bit at her words. 'If I had sons.' Bellatrix knew perfectly well that women could be Death Eaters too. So why. . . no. . . had her and Voldemort. . . surely not?

Narcissa gave a scream of despair and clutched her long beautiful blond hair. He quickly stooped, seizing her by the arms, lifted her up and made her sit back down on the sofa. He poured her more wine, shoving it into her hand. "Narcissa, that's enough. Drink this. Listen to me."

"It might be possible. . . for me to help Draco." He said slowly, hoping he didn't regret making such a statement.

She sat up, "Severus- oh, Severus- you would help him? Would you look after him, see he comes to no harm?"

"I can try." He said.

She flung her glass away and it skidded across the table and she took up a kneeling position at his feet, seizing his hand and pressed her lips to it. He felt heat in his cheeks. Maybe it would be best if Elizabeth was gone. Was this going to go any farther?

"If you are there to protect him. . . Severus, will you swear it? Will you make then Unbreakable vow?"

His heart stopped. Unbreakable vow? If he screwed up. . . he could die. Draco had a tendency to attack Elizabeth at school. If he made the vow. . . how could he protect Elizabeth from Draco if he was supposed to be protecting Draco? He kept his face emotionless and said, "The Unbreakable Vow?"

Bellatrix cackled with laughter. "Aren't you listening, Narcissa? Oh, he'll try, I'm sure. . . The usual empty words, the usual slithering out of action. . . oh, on the Dark Lord's orders, of course!"

He kept his eyes on Narcissa's blue, tear-filled eyes. She was still clutching his hand. "Certainly, Narcissa, I shall make the Unbreakable Vow. Perhaps your sister will consent to be our Bonder."

Pride, he thought reluctantly. Pride was what killed Sirius and pride was what was going to kill him. But it was too late, he'd said the words.

Bellatrix's mouth fell open as he lowered himself so that he was kneeling opposite Narcissa. They grasped right hands. "You will need your wand, Bellatrix." He said in as cold a voice as he could muster. If Elizabeth wasn't there when he got back. . .

Bellatrix pulled out her wand. "And you will need to move a little closer." He said.

Narcissa spoke. "Will you, Severus, watch over my son, Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes?"

"I will." He said.

A thin tongue of flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands. There was some heat, but it was not painful.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him from harm?"

"I will."

"And, should it prove necessary. . . if it seems Draco will fail, will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?"

He twitched for a second, wanting to pull his hand out. Elizabeth would be horribly pained if he died. It took him a second to find the words.

"I will."

As the fiery bond finally fell away, they drew their hands apart and then they were gone as quickly as they had come.

He stood there in the sitting room for some time and then turned and headed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

She was still there, curled up in a ball on the bed, her large green eyes glaring at him with anger.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, "It was the first name that came to mind and it came out. I didn't mean to."

She turned back into a human, completely naked and his heart started to race, looking at how perfect her body was, the curves in her hips, the small but plump breasts, her large brown eyes, the long brown-red hair that reached past her perfectly shaped ass. Perfect- unless he looked at her right hand which had words carved in it. Her eyes were a bit puffy and red, the rest of her face was extremely pale. Her bottom lip was quivering slightly. She'd been crying.

"It's fine. I understand." she whispered, walking up to him, pressing her body to him. Her hands slipped up to his collar and he shivered with anticipation as she lowered his cloak from his shoulders and then unbuttoned his shirt. "Come back to bed." She whispered, turning her back on him and his heart thumped irregularly, watching her hips swing as she walked.

He waved his wand, turning out the lights and shutting the window shades and quickly climbed back into the bed, and climbed back onto her, going into her, and went back up into Heaven.

⬅️➡️

[sliebman10]

Unbreakable Vow

(some mild spice)

They collapsed, trying to catch their breath. Sirius, in particular, was loose and boneless after a spectacular orgasm. Remus gathered Sirius in his arms and licked at the trail of sweat sliding down his neck. Sirius made a happy, contented sound as he snuggled into Remus.

“Love you, Moony,” he murmured sleepily. 

“Love you too,” Remus said, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Sirius smiled at him with his eyes closed, finding his lips again. 

This is the real unbreakable vow, Remus thought as they drifted to sleep tangled together. 

Word Count: 92

@wolfstarmicrofic

[picklesonjupiter]

Imagine Severus and Lily made an unbreakable vow to always stay in each other's lives and can't go without seeing each other in person at least once a month. Sev mentioned unbreakable vows and Lily was the one who suggested that they make a vow because she was afraid that he would stop being her friend after they were sorted into different houses. (I imagine Lily as co-dependent with Severus because he was the first one to show her magic and the Wizarding world was intimidating.)

After Severus called her a mudblood, he had to stay in contact with Lily even though she didn't want to see him, but they can't break the vow or they risk dying. When they graduate from Hogwarts, they have to make plans to meet up at least once a month. Lily is stubborn and won't forgive Severus, but as time passes her anger and hurt mellows. I think Lily/James wouldn't happen or their relationship wouldn't last long because he would be jealous that Lily has to see Sev at least once a month.

Severus doesn't join the death eaters because it would risk Lily and he would have no time to see her. They eventually go back to being friends, but it's different because of the betrayal of both sides. Severus calling Lily a slur and Lily dating the guy who bullied him.

[de-angulorum-et-angelorum]

a dying ember can still ignite (125145 words) by talkfast Chapters: 24/24

Soulmates are incredibly rare in the wizarding world. Their bond is a romantic ideal, written about in fairy tales. The soulbond transcends marriage laws, and is more inherently powerful than any magic that could possibly be taught. It's too pure to be corrupted. Too perfect to be denied. Too bright and beautiful and good to be anything other than a miraculous blessing.

Harry Potter, who was raised without any knowledge of the wizarding world, learns all of this much too late.

Two stubborn boys turn away from each other to walk separate paths, but find that they keep on looking back.

A retelling of canon events and the years afterwards.

[oh-my-wolfstar]

Would you read this?

I got this idea from the fic No One Can Know by

MorlayWritings on Ao3

In fifth year Walburga Black discovers that her son is gay and plans to leave the noble and most ancient house of Black she forces him to take an unbreakable vow that he will never leave the Black family, and he will never tell, show, or otherwise reveal that he is gay or under an unbreakable vow. Overtime , being forced to stay with his abusive family and unable to be who he really is , the weight of the unbreakable vow begins to kill Sirius, especially after he develops feelings for one of his best mates, who hates him at the moment . But in sixth year James begins to suspect what is going on. He enlists the help of of Lily Evens, who strongly dislikes James and Sirius, and Remus, who hasn’t spoken to any of the marauders since the incident last year. Working together the three discover an old law that requires anyone who goes to trial for breaking it to lift any unbreakable vows they might have placed, they just need to prove Walburaga is guilty (or frame her). To do so, they need someone on the inside; Regulus Black, Sirius’s estranged brother. As they go, Remus’ heart begins to soften and his feelings for Sirius begin to reemerge, but he doesn’t know how to forgive him for betraying him. Lily’s feelings of annoyance towards James begin to dissipate as well, replaced with feelings of love and affection. The only problem is that James’ feelings for Lily are fading, replaced by (very forbidden) feelings for Regulus. Grappling with heartbreak, love, betrayal, and forgiveness can this group of friends, enemies, and those in between free Sirius or is he doomed to suffer and die slowly until his mother’s demise?

Would you read this? I might write it after I finish the series I’m currently writing on Ao3. I don’t really like or read jegulus but it seemed to good to pass up for this work . Tell me what you think in the comments!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Second Chances

@wolfstarmicrofic May 31, word count 996

Second part to Prompt 30 - Breakup

His body was shaking from head to toe. Sirius was gone. Sirius had left him all because Dumbledore had forbidden him from telling him about what his true purpose in the Order was. 

“ARGH!!!!!” He screamed into the empty flat as tears began to stream down his face. He’d had enough of this, he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life to keep the secrets of a dotty old man. 

He stormed out of the flat and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. The walk-up to the castle took so much longer than Remus remembered. Dumbledore was waiting for him at the castle's entrance. 

“Good evening Remus,” The headmaster asked calmly. 

“We need to talk,” Remus tried to say evenly, but it came out sharper than he meant. 

“This way, Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore turned and led him into the school. Dumbledore led him into the great hall and into a small room off to the side. “What can I do for you?” Dumbledore asked.

Remus stole himself, he wasn’t going to lose Sirius.

“I need to tell Sirius,”

“No,” Dumbledore said bluntly. 

“It’s not a discussion, Albus. I am telling him.” He spat back. 

“Why now?” The headmaster asked curiously. 

“He left me because you made me lie to him, and he knew I was lying.” He looked Dumbledore dead in the eyes. “I refuse to lose him because of you,” 

He was surprised when Dumbledore nodded in agreement. 

“He will need to make an unbreakable vow,” Dumbledore told him. Remus felt a small drop of hope form within him. 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you." He turned and almost ran out the door. 

“Oh, Remus, before you go,” Remus looked back at the headmaster’s serious face. “Sirius is the only one you may tell and only if you fully trust him. Remember there is a spy amongst us.”

“It’s not him,” Remus snarled. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. “It’s not him,” He said again firmly, as he sped through the doors before Dumbledore could say anything else. That had been far too easy, but Remus didn’t have time to figure out what the old wizard was up to, he had a relationship to save.

***

He arrived outside the Potter’s house. It was the only place Sirius would go. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. James answered. 

“Remus!” James choked out. “Er, I don’t think this is the best time.” 

“Let me in, James,” Remus ordered. James exhaled a long breath and dragged his hand through his hair, making it stick up on end. He moved aside and let Remus in. 

Sirius was curled up on the sofa with Lily’s arms wrapped around him and a cup of tea in his hands. Lily turned first, her eyes widening when she saw him. 

“Sirius,” His voice was croaky as it filled with emotion. He cleared it. “Sirius, please, can we talk? I need to tell you why.” He waited and waited, praying that Sirius would give him a second chance. Sirius slowly turned his head. The skin around his eyes was puffy and red. He must have been crying all night. “Please,” He whispered. He could see all the hurt on Sirius’s face, but he nodded and Remus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. 

“It’s okay, Lily.” Sirius patted her leg. Lily turned on Remus as Sirius unwrapped himself from the blanket.

“If you hurt him again you’ll have me to answer to,” She warned. Remus wasn’t prepared to cross Lily Potter. He may be a werewolf, but she was scarier than he’d ever been if she thought her loved ones were in trouble. 

“Can we go back to the flat?” Remus suggested. Sirius looked at James and, after having a silent conversation, Sirius looked back at Remus and nodded. 

Sirius walked out of the house after hugging Lily and James. Remus followed. 

Back at the flat, Sirius stared at him with his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look angry, he looked unsure. 

“Sirius,” Remus moved to touch him, but Sirius flinched away from him. Remus swallowed. “Sirius, I’m going to tell you everything. Dumbledore has given me permission, but there’s one condition before I do.”

“What?” Sirius finally spoke to him. 

“Dumbledore has demanded that we perform an unbreakable vow.” Anger flashed across Sirius’s face. 

“Because you don’t trust me?!” He wasn’t quite shouting but it was close. 

“Sirius, if it was my choice I would have told you every day what I’ve done. I’d tell you every little detail, but he won’t let me.” He looked at Sirius, begging him to agree. “Please, Sirius, please. I love you, I can’t lose you. Please, Sirius.” Tears were dripping down his face again. 

“Okay, Remus, I’ll do it.” Sirius sighed. 

“Thank you,” 

They performed the vow at Hogwarts with Dumbledore as the witness. Sirius had been warned by Dumbledore what this meant and that he could not tell anyone about what Remus did, or he would put him in danger. Sirius agreed to everything. 

They watched as the thin flames licked over their linked hands as the vow settled into their skin. 

When it was over, Remus took Sirius home and told him everything. He told him about the research. He told Sirius about the wolf packs that he’d integrated himself into, to try and get them to stay neutral or even fight for their side. Sirius sat in silence as Remus unloaded all the secrets he’d been dying to tell Sirius for over a year. 

“It must have been killing you to keep all those secrets, Moony,” Sirius said quietly after Remus had finished talking. He cupped Remus’s face in his hands. “You’re not alone anymore, Remus. I’ll help you shoulder this burden.” Sirius leaned in and kissed him, their tears mixing on their faces as their kiss deepened. Remus felt nothing but relief and love for the man in front of him.

[wolfstarshipping]

No One Can Know (5589 words) by MorlayWritings Rating: Not Rated marauders era/hogwarts+post-hogwarts

Summary: "He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t be too obvious. Couldn’t say anything about it. Could never do anything about it. Never. It was going to drive him insane. “Sirius Black.” His mother had hissed. “You will not fight us on this.” Why had he done what they’d wanted? His new situation was turning out to be far more torturous than any pain they could have given him. Pain was temporary. This was forever." Or: Sirius Black realizes he's gay, and unfortunately so do his parents. Ashamed (because they're assholes), they force him to make an unbreakable vow that he will never let anyone else find out. Desire, lying, pining, and eventually (spoilers) a happy ending ensue.

Comment: This was such an interesting premise and so well executed, you really feel with Sirius how suffocating the unbreakable vow is for him, and how much it hurts him to be closeted because of it. And I love Remus and Sirius both pining for each other in their own way, I can really recommend reading this fic!

[mrs-snape5984]

Just like I’ve imagined it, when I read the scene.

“I will,” said Snape. 

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

Whumpcember 20

All of this Whumpcember is a single, long fic, with the prompts used in specific scenes, in order. See the Masterlist and AO3 link here.

((content warnings: mind control, drugging, love potion, coerced relationship, jealousy, coerced marriage kinda ))

promptspiration: @whumpcember Day 20: Drugged

Whumpee: Draco Malfoy Whumper: Harry Potter Pairing: Harry/Draco whump type: mind control / love potion (Amortentia) fic type: post-Hogwarts AU

words: ~5000

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

The rain was dreary. He sat in the window, watching it distantly, not thinking about anything, not really feeling anything through the muffling grey curtain of his medicines. 

Harry surprised him when he came to join him; he didn't realise he was there before he felt a touch on his arm, and he slowly turned to look. Harry was actually almost smiling. He looked excited. 

"I have something for you to drink." He put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed, pressing a small bottle against his hand, faintly warm to the touch and containing a delicate, pearly liquid. "It took a while, but it's done." 

He picked up the bottle compliantly without giving it any consideration, but his hand slowed as it neared his face, and he found himself with his eyes closed, breathing in slow, deep breaths of the scent. It smelled of flowers, the lilies and narcissus of the gardens in spring… and the hint of orchid that clung to his mother from the flowers she arranged for the house, back when they had flowers, before the Death Eaters… and an undertone of the sugary frosting of a birthday cake, they were always far too sweet because that was what he'd liked when he was small…

A light touch on his wrist encouraged him to drink it, and he did. It tasted faintly of butterbeer and felt light and comforting going down, not like anything else he had to drink. This one didn't weigh him down or make him sick — on the contrary, it brought colour back into the world. 

He blinked up at Harry and couldn't help a bit of a smile and a flutter of his heart. "It's good, actually," he admitted, giving over the empty. 

"Yeah, you like it?"

"I do." He shifted around in the window to face him. "You don't have to work anymore, right?"

"No, now that's done I'm free." 

"Good." He laced his fingers into Harry's and let his hand hang from his.

"You want to do something?" Harry asked, with mildly bemused amusement, but he just shook his head. No, just being with him was enough. "Well, all right then. But I'm going to sit down." He stepped back, lightly pulling on Draco's hand. "You coming with me?" He nodded again, and slid out of the window to follow. 

They sat on the sofa, Harry with his book out for writing, and he just sat close to him with his head resting by Harry's shoulder. It was very nice. 

"You feel up to answering some questions for me?" Harry asked. It might have been a little bit, because then he asked, "You're still awake, right?" 

"Yes."

"I'll assume that answers both." Harry leaned his cheek against the top of his head briefly. "What did that potion smell like, to you?" he wondered curiously. 

"Don't know." Didn't seem important. 

"You don't know?"

He shrugged a little bit against Harry's shoulder. "Flowers and cake."

"Flowers and cake." Harry chuckled a little. "You try to act so hard but you're a surprisingly simple soul." 

Even that sounded like a good thing from Harry. "Why? What does it smell like to you?"

"You." Harry kissed his head and made him blush. "Do you feel okay?" 

"Yes."

"Hey." Harry nudged his side lightly so he opened his eyes. "Don't tell me any lies, okay? Do you hurt anywhere?"

He studied Harry to determine what kind of answer he wanted. The truth, maybe. "My head kind of hurts, but it's not so bad." 

"Any different from a little while ago?"

"It's a bit better. Your concoction had some effect." 

"That's good. What about your emotions?"

"What about them?" He settled back by Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes again. 

"How do you feel?" Harry held his hand on their legs. "Do you feel sad at all? …Tired?"

"No, what would I feel sad about? I feel really good." 

"Not scared?" 

He shook his head. Why would he be scared? As long as he had Harry, everything would be all right. 

"You don't have any idea how happy that makes me." Harry leaned his forehead against his head. "You have to tell me if you do get sad, or scared, or empty, okay? You have to promise." Harry was very intense; he lifted their hands together to nudge up his chin to make him meet his eyes. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." He didn't know why Harry was so insistent, but he didn't want him to be scared. He brushed the backs of his fingers over Harry's cheek. "But I can't imagine why I would be. Everything is all right." 

Harry smiled a little and kissed him slowly. Still embarrassing and a little gross, but Harry liked it, so he played along.

—-

That nice drink joined his routine. Not that he could really keep track of things like routine, but he noticed it was there and looked forward to it. It made everything nice. He could just sit with Harry and everything was okay. 

He did get sad when Harry had to leave him, though. He got mad he couldn't go with him and demanded he stay, because it was awful when he was gone. Horrible. It got so bad that Harry had to just make sure he slept the whole time, otherwise he couldn't handle it. 

But aside from that, it was really good. It was the best time of his life he could remember. As long as he could stay with Harry he didn't really have to worry about anything. He sat with him while he did research, or he mashed or chopped whatever Harry wanted him to for his brewing, or just napped against him. It was basically perfect. 

—-

"Draco…"

He lifted his head from the bed and looked. Harry was standing at the bureau, looking into the bottle cupboard. He had taken some of them out in front of him, including the horrible pink one, but now he was just looking distantly.

"Yes?" He was too sore to sit up if he didn't have to, but he watched him, running his finger down the tail of the dragon winding around his arm.

Harry continued to look at the bottles, and gradually pulled one out, looking at it in his hand. He couldn't see it through him. 

"I think I have to stop giving you this one."

What? No, he couldn't take it away. "Please, don't…" He pushed himself painfully up, holding his arms away from the burning skin of his chest so he didn't brush it and make it worse. "Why?" How could he fix it?

"It's… making you into someone else." He looked down at the bottle in his hand. "There's so much I love about you that I can't see anymore." 

He didn't like this. It was twisting up his stomach. Harry didn't love him? He left the bed and limped over to Harry without even trying to find his clothes, and held onto his arm anxiously. "Please…"

Harry looked back at him, his expression a little surprised, then turned and held onto his arm to help keep him up. He was holding the bottle with the drink that tasted like a poppy, and the relief felt like a physical thing. He almost collapsed against Harry's side, hugging him tight and resting his head against him. He'd thought he meant the little, nice-smelling one… the one that made everything better… He didn't care about the poppy one.

"I'm sorry." Harry tugged his head down gently and kissed it. "I know it helps you… believe me, I know. But it's taking away everything that makes you who you are. I love how smart you are… How quick, and sharp, and incisive — how you can see weak spots and just strike straight at them. I love your wit and your jokes and even your mockery. I love your energy, and how determined you are, and cunning and strategic, how you're just so… bright, brilliant, in every sense of the word. You shine, Draco. You're like the sun. And with this…" He looked down at it. 

He didn't even know what that one was for. He supposed it had never occurred to him to ask. "What is it?"

Harry ran his thumb over the glass bottle, and his hand ran over his hair. "You're going to be very cross with me when it's out of your system," he said. "But I did it for your own good." 

Something about that statement made him draw back a little, uncertain. He didn't like those words.

"It's for suppressing your memories." Harry pulled him closer again without seeming to notice. "It helps with your pain and your emotions, too, and I'm glad for it, but it's really for the memories. You have to understand, though. You needed it. I swear you did. I couldn't… I couldn't save you any other way."

"Save me?" He put his hand on his head, prodding the ache. 

"From yourself," he said quietly. "You hurt yourself awfully. Remember when you woke up and I took care of you until you could get out of bed? I said it was an accident, but… it wasn't. You… tried to kill yourself… it wasn't the first time…" 

That didn't make sense — he didn't want to die. That idea was frightening, he wouldn't do that. He held onto Harry's arm tightly. "Why…?"

"Because you're very sad." Harry looked into his face, and lifted a hand to cup the back of his head. "Your parents are dead, Draco, and they have been for a long time. That's the memory that keeps making you do awful things, because… they hurt you, they twisted up your mind so you feel like you can't live without them. You haven't thought about them in so long, and I love it, it's been wonderful to see you free of them, but this price… it isn't worth it." He looked back down at the bottle in his hand. "It's making you agreeable… complacent… docile and pleasant… It's basically made you a pet. I swear that isn't what I wanted." 

He frowned a bit, groping around with his mind, trying to hold onto that. "My parents died…?" 

Harry sighed. "Don't focus on it. I'm telling you now so that when the memory comes back on its own it doesn't make you too emotional. I don't want something bad to happen." Harry held his head, meeting his eyes. "But you don't need this protection anymore, right?" He set the poppy drink down. "Because you've promised you'll tell me how you feel, and I'll help you. You won't let your emotions go crazy alone and make you hurt yourself."

"No," he promised. "I won't. As long as I have you, it's all right." 

His parents were dead? It felt weird that hearing that didn't surprise him. It was like learning that this was Harry's house — it was something he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, he just hadn't thought about it. It was sad, but it wasn't shocking, and the hurt felt old and achey, not new and sharp. He squeezed Harry's arm. "I'm all right," he repeated quietly. Harry made it okay.

"Good." Harry kissed his head again. "It might take a few days for this to wear off completely, but it'll be okay."

He believed him. He reached past Harry to bring out one of the small, nice-smelling bottles. "I can still have this one, right?"

Harry looked at what he had and smiled, wrapping his arms around him. "Of course. As much as you want."

—-

He got sick for a while — he spent so much time throwing up, in agony from the cramps of his already painful stomach, sweating without a fever, often leaking tears for no reason that he couldn't stop. The awful pink drink didn't help it — instead, he ended up not even being able to keep it down, so his cough started coming back, and that made everything so, so much worse… He just wanted to sleep through it, but it was a crapshoot whether he could keep the Sleeping Draughts down, and even when he could he woke up suddenly shortly thereafter… the Calming Draught and the Pain ones were similar, so his head hurt and his skin hurt and his emotions were all over the place, leaving him crying or raging at the unfairness of it all…

The only thing he could reliably keep from throwing right back up were the gentle, nice flowery drink, and that was the only thing that made being alive bearable. If he hadn't had those, and Harry, he didn't know what he would do. 

But Harry stayed with him the whole time, and it did, eventually, get better. Eventually there was a day when he didn't throw up at all, and he could start to eat again, and things gradually picked up from there. First he could have small doses of the pain relief, and then slowly start on the pink ones again, calming his cough and the fever that came with it. Then, finally and yet seemingly suddenly, things were completely back to normal, and it was like the sickness had never happened at all. 

He found that the memories that had apparently been suppressed were there for him, now, if he wanted them. They were there, but unconnected, isolated, and he had to actively try for them to find them. He honestly had no idea what order anything went in — and, to be honest, it didn't really seem important. He didn't dwell on them. 

Harry's fears about them seemed unfounded; he was okay.

—-

He dropped heavily onto the sofa at Harry's side, holding his stomach and holding in a groan from it. That didn't really matter, though, that was just part of being alive. "Would you like to grow my hair back out?"

"What's that?" Harry looked up from his notebook and settled his arm around him. 

"My hair." He leaned on Harry so that his elbow was propped on Harry's shoulder and he was looking at him, fingers pulling at strands of his hair. It was fine and short, maybe a little over an inch, short enough to be impossible to style, but now long enough for him to worry about it. "You liked it long enough to tie back, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I do actually." Harry shifted so he could also run his fingers through his hair, looking at him. 

"And it's not as though this is doing me any favours." He gestured generally at his face. 

"It's not that bad," Harry assured him. "But you're right, it's not 'you'. All right, I'll pick up a ribbon next time—"

He lifted the ribbon he'd retrieved from his room, pinched between his thumb and only finger.

Harry laughed a bit. "You really hate that hairstyle, don't you? Okay then." He flipped his book closed and set it aside, moving about to pull his arm back and get his wand. While Harry did that, he shifted as well to face him, waiting attentively.

Harry touched him just under the jaw lightly, wand propped up near his cheek, and his fingers stroked lightly over his skin. "The shave-free charm is still holding strong."

"It is," he agreed. "And I appreciate it. Although I have been meaning to ask: did you actually mean it to affect my whole body?"

Harry shrugged a tiny bit. "That wasn't the intent, but I knew it might. I suppose I could have done more to restrict it, but I had enough trouble with your eyebrows, didn't I."

"I suppose you did. I'm used to it." He ran his hand up his freakishly smooth arm, where the sleeve was rolled up to show the bottom the dragon brand that Harry appreciated seeing. "I was just curious what it might reflect upon you. Lack of attention to detail, apparently."

"Hey, my 'attention to detail' is about to try to fix your hair." Harry waved his wand in his face.

He folded his hands politely in his lap. "Forget I said anything." 

Harry grinned, then took on a look of concentration and started growing out his hair. He wasn't capable of sitting and waiting patiently to see what Harry had done; very shortly he was feeling his hair as Harry grew it and giving him direction on the fringe that might make him look less cadaverous. 

When he was finished, or tired of his nitpicking, Harry tied the ribbon behind his neck and kissed him. "There, gorgeous." 

"You're being overly generous." Once upon a time he had been good looking, but now he just looked ill and drawn. It was still nice to hear something nice, though, even if it was just politeness. Would actually mean something if he earned it, though… He felt his hair one last time, then turned and leaned against Harry's side. "But feel free to continue."

"I'm not. You're the most beautiful Pureblood in this house."

He laughed and picked up his hand to give it a squeeze. He did appreciate that. 

—-

"You really don't care about sex, do you?" 

He had his head on Harry's knee and a book about enchanting items he was trying to read, but mostly not, lying on his chest. He tilted his head back to look up at Harry's face, displacing fingers from his hair. "Why?"

Harry laced his fingers through his lightly. "I've given you Amortentia and you still don't initiate anything." 

That made him laugh. "You absolute ass," he said fondly, squeezing his hand. "Amortentia? I can't imagine how much of your vault you've wasted. Were you trying to make me love you?" He smirked up at him.

Harry met his eyes. "Do you hate that idea?"

He shook his head faintly with a small smile. "You should have known that wouldn't work on me." 

Harry smiled softly and ran his fingers through his hair.

—-

Harry settled onto the sofa beside him, sliding his hand neatly between him and the book he was trying to read, and kissed at his neck. It was a bit annoying — the not-completely-pleasant crawling feeling of the mouth on his skin, but moreso the book. He was actually getting into the analysis of enchantment strength and didn't want to waste his rare bout of being able to focus. 

He leaned his head away and shifted the book so he could see his page. 

Harry playfully flipped the book closed — he luckily got his fingers between the pages so he wouldn't lose his place, albeit mostly on accident — and slid his hand under his shirt, a barely tolerable feeling, while trying to kiss him again.

He ducked his head away. "I really don't care about this, you know, you're right. Have I said that before?"

"Mm." Harry ran his fingers down his stomach. 

"Frankly, it's all just a bit…" Hm, how to say 'tedious' and 'gross' without Harry taking that as an insult? "Well, anyway, I think you'll find things like that aren't really necessary." He got the book between him and Harry's arm and pushed lightly to tell him to get off.

Harry laughed and clearly didn't notice his hints. "They really are."

He scoffed. "They aren't."

Harry nudged him under the chin to look in his face. "I really don't think I could live like that."

He narrowed his eyes in a sudden spike of offence that either overwhelmed or subsumed the irritation. "So why am I not enough for you?"

Harry blinked several times and went still. "What?" 

He pushed himself up to his feet, getting Harry's hand off him, and looked at him directly. "You couldn't live like that? Like this? With me." 

"I didn't say that…"

"You literally just did. You can't live without it. You would rather have that than me."

"I didn't say that!" Harry grabbed for his hand, but he yanked it back. "Why is this an either-or proposition? Where is this coming from?" 

"You're the one who said it, not me," he snapped. "I'm here, but that's not enough, you 'need' to taint everything with that." 

"'Taint everything', what?" The look on his face was uncomprehending and helpless and thoroughly irritating, like he was staring down a bludger heading for him and didn't have the sense to duck. 

He turned to pace just to get away from Harry's stupid face and entitled hands. "I'm sure you'll be absolutely shocked to learn that it's actually not that I don't 'care about' this, it's that I 'don't care for' it. I actively and aggressively dislike it. I hate it! The absolute best I can hope for is that it's terribly boring and wastes my time."

He turned back to find Harry on his feet now too, watching him with a furrowed brow. "You can't actually find making love 'boring'."

"Only when it isn't nauseating, demeaning, painful, or frightening." It was getting harder to find the right words for what he meant to say, his mind was closing in, but those simple terms even Harry should be able to understand. 

"Sex isn't any of those things!"

"No?" he retorted. "Maybe it's just you, then."

Harry slapped him hard enough he stumbled over and fell to his knees, and that wasn't a terribly surprising reaction. It just made him madder; there was a flash of fear and coil of guilt, but the anger was stronger. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry demanded as he climbed back to his feet, glaring. Harry didn't help. 

"You! I should be enough for you! You're enough for me, why am I not good enough?" There were tears pricking at his eyes and he didn't even know if they were from sadness or embarrassment or frustration or anger. 

"You are, Draco!" Harry held his arms and looked at him earnestly. "I'd never intentionally hurt you. You don't have to not like it. If you don't enjoy it, tell me and we can do something so you can. A small dose of Attraction Extraction isn't any trouble." 

He squirmed until Harry was forced to let him go, and staggered a step back. "I can't believe you would suggest…" he groped around for a word in helpless frustration until he had to give up, "something like that!" He jerked around, spotted the door, and suddenly wanted nothing more in life than to go out it.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded, and grabbed his wrist.

He shook his hand vigorously  until he got free and yanked open the door. "Away!"

"Why are you acting like this? I thought you loved me." 

"Stop thinking you know how to manipulate people," he snapped on his way out. "You're just embarrassing yourself." And he slammed the door behind him with an unsatisfactory awkwardness.

It was difficult to storm anywhere when he had to limp along the walls and got lost between doorways, but he gave it a valiant effort anyway. He didn't mean to go to the kitchen but that was where he found himself, and that failure made him feel helplessly worse, like a failure on top of all his other failures. He couldn't even do that right. He wiped his eyes roughly as he paced around clumsily, feet aching and not quite steady, angry with himself again for how graceless he was. 

Why wasn't he good enough? He did a lot! Why did Harry need more? He kissed him a lot, or what he thought was a lot, and that wasn't for him, that was for Harry, because that was what a good… whatever they were… did. He didn't complain when Harry touched him in ways that hurt his stupid burning skin or his stupid achy bones, or that his body didn't really like, because his body wasn't Harry's responsibility. He normally didn't decline whatever Harry had in mind when they went to bed, especially if he just wanted hands. Why wasn't it enough? Why couldn't Harry just be as happy with him as he was with Harry?

Harry acted like he never did anything for him, but he did! He was just quiet about it, like one should be. He was allowed to not like something, wasn't he? 

He had been meaner than he should have been. He hadn't meant everything he said, he was just lashing out where he knew it would hurt… He shouldn't have done that…

He collapsed at the table with his hands over his head, crying a little, and soon enough exhausted. Now the anger abandoned him and it was just crushing hopelessness and guilt. Why wasn't he good…?

Harry came in — he heard it — and there was a touch on his back, and the sound of a bottle on the table. He lifted his head and saw a Calming Draught, and put his head back down. "I don't need it." 

"Okay." Harry rubbed his hand over his shoulder and pulled him against his body. He resisted for a second, then turned and hugged his waist, burying his face in his chest. 

"I didn't mean it," he said, muffled in the fabric of Harry's shirt and the muscle beneath. "You  know that, right? Sometimes you just make me crazy…"

Harry hugged him tight against him, rubbing his back. "I know exactly how you feel." 

—-

The arithmancy was simple:

Harry wanted enthusiastic sex he didn't.

Harry was gone a lot for work.

Harry Sainted Potter could pull anyone he wanted. 

He couldn't think about anything else. That collection of facts and the natural conclusion they led to were boiling in his mind, surfacing and resurfacing, mixing together, swirling and throwing themselves at him. He cried in desperate fear and loneliness, but anger came as it continued to stew and intensify. 

When he found a sandwich waiting for him by the door and he realised Harry must be home and finished, but was still ignoring him, that set him off. That was it. He was going to put a stop to this. He stalked out of the room and down the stairs, eventually. He didn't know where he was going but the frustration of being slow and not finding Harry actually fed his anger and he carried stubbornly on. 

Harry finally appeared in the hallway, like he was just coming in, still with his wand out to manage the door, and he looked up with a stupid, blank expression, looking so innocent…

"Who is it?!" he demanded. His voice was shrill, even he could hear it, but not out of control. 

Harry stared at him. "...What?"

"Who is it?" Now he was screaming. "Who do you have out there? Is it a witch? Did you go back to that fucking Weasley cunt?" 

"What?" Harry was still playing dumb and he desperately wished he had a wand, he would curse that fucking look off his face—

Harry suddenly flew back like he'd been struck or cursed, and cried out as he hit the door; he rolled off it and scrambled to yank off his shirt, panting. The skin of his back was red. "Draco!"

"You don't get to leave me!" Harry was crowded against the wall, burning door on one side and him on the other, holding his shirt out to hold him off like he thought he was going to hit him. But at least he couldn't leave. "She can't have you! You're mine!"

"Draco!" Harry grabbed him by the upper arms and pushed him a step back so he could get away from the door. "I haven't!"

"Don't lie to me!" Now he was crying too, and it was ugly and he hated looking that weak in front of Harry, but the emotions just had to get out. He clung to Harry's arms. "I know why you're always gone!" 

"I'm not." Harry wrapped his arms firmly around him — he tried to pull away, but Harry was implacable, and held him tight against his chest. In a moment, he stopped trying to resist and leaned his head on Harry's instead. 

He didn't smell of anyone else. There was just the normal, slightly acrid brewing scent clinging to him. It was reassuring.

"Shh. I'm here." Harry ran his hand down his hair. "I can see you're exhausted, come on." He half-led, half-supported him down the hall. Even the sight of the starry room didn't fix everything — it made him feel calmer, but at the same time those desperate feelings were sharper, more intense, and he clung to Harry's arm with all his strength. He thought he saw him wince. 

Harry sat on the sofa with him, pulling them apart so they could look at each other in the starlight. "You're all right." He ran his hand down his hair again, looking into his face. "Are you better now?"

"No." He clung to him and stared, unwilling to even take his eyes off him. 

"I guess not." Harry met his eyes sincerely. "Do you really believe I've gone out chasing after someone else?"

He didn't answer, because he didn't know if he believed it or not, but he was terrified of it.

Harry held his jaw. "I haven't. I wouldn't. Do you believe me?"

"I want to."

"I promise."

"A promise is just words," he said sharply. "Worthless. I don't need meaningless words, I need a vow."

Harry blinked at him. "Are you serious? Unbreakable Vow?"

"Yes." He hadn't even thought of this before, certainly not planned it, but he seized on it now. "That's the only way I'll be able to know for certain."

Harry's thumb stroked along his cheek. "Mutual?" he said. "I'll swear to you, and you'll swear to me." 

"Yes. Of course." 

"All right." Harry took his hand back and brought back out his wand. "You are going to have to let go of me for a min." 

He looked down at his hand clutched around Harry's arm and made himself let go. It felt so wrong, but at the same time he realised that his hand hurt from holding onto him.

They clasped hands, his whole one and Harry's free one, while Harry's wand propped beneath them and began to glow as he cast the spell silently. The golden light of the nascent Vow resisted the gentle starlight from above. 

"You go first," Harry murmured.

He glanced to his face and held his eyes. "Do you swear to never forsake me?"

"I swear," Harry said without hesitation, meeting his eyes without guile or reluctance. The golden light from his wand bloomed into a ribbon that stretched upward and wrapped around their hands. 

Harry spoke next to take his turn. "Do you swear you will never betray me?" 

The thought had never occurred to him. The idea made his heart hurt. "I swear." 

A second ribbon of golden magic wound its way around their hands. 

They needed a third vow for the spell to be properly completed. They should actually have had a third person, a witness, but that wasn't as integral as the three questions and three answers. He admired Harry's face lit from below with gold and above with silver, and ached at the thought of anyone else seeing it. "Do you swear you will never have anyone else but me?"

Harry smiled. "I swear. I never have wanted to." 

The final band of gold leapt up from the wand and bound their hands together. Now the light of the Vow was completely overpowering the light of the stars.

Harry kissed him, and by the time he pulled back the light of the magic had faded and they were only sat on the couch, holding hands. Harry smiled at him. "Better?"

"Yes." He held the back of Harry's head, resting their foreheads together, and for the first time in it seemed like ever the fist of fear unclenched from around his heart and he could breathe. Harry was his, no one else's, Harry could never leave him… 

Harry lifted his hand and kissed the tail of the dragon there, then turned it palm up and sat up straight with his wand out. "One last thing." He gestured at their hands, and a gold ring was conjured in his palm. 

He laughed just a little, an embarrassed sound, and turned his face. "You aren't serious." 

"Very." He picked up the ring and waited a second for him to offer his hand, then slid it on his ring finger. It fit perfectly. "Your memory problems — I don't want you to forget in the heat of the moment and get distressed. Now, if you're alone, because I'm working or anything, you can see this and remember." Harry wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head. He leaned comfortably against him and held out his hand to look at the ring in the starlight. How could his chest go from tight and cold to so full, so suddenly? 

"We're bound together forever," Harry murmured. "No one's ever taking me away from you."

[wolfstarmicrofic]

Prompt: Unbreakable Vow

@wolfstarmicrofic

Word Count: 258

"You absolute arse," Remus whispered into the quiet of their Dorm, staring at Sirius as if he was seeing him for the first time, the betrayal evident in his voice.

"I- Moony, I-" Sirius tried to choke out an apology, but he couldn't find the right words.

"How could you?"

Sirius knew that nothing would help this moment. No words could fix what he'd done. He'd gone too far. There was no coming back from this. "I...I'll never ever do it again, Remus. I wasn't thinking. I was upset, and...I swear. I swear, I'll make a fucking Unbreakable Vow if you just forgive me, I-"

"You think that'll make everything better? What about now? What about what you've already done?" Remus asked, looking distraught.

Sirius paused, then realized what he had to do. There was only one solution.

"I'll go right now, Moons. I'll leave." He sighed, turning his back on Remus, heading for the door.

"Almonds."

Sirius turned back to his boyfriend, fighting back a smile. "Alright. Anything else?"

"....caramel, too," Remus answered, still scowling.

"'Course, Moons. I'll be back soon," Sirius said with a nod and a smile.

"...And if you ever eat the last of my chocolate again, I'll tell James what happened to his picture of that Quidditch player you both like, you know, the one you took and used when you-"

Sirius's eyes widened and he slapped a hand over Remus's mouth, lest James hear him from the other side of the castle. "Alright, Remus, I'll never do it again, Merlin."

[courfee]

@into-the-jeggyverse | "under" | wc: 592 | cw: suicide

“Promise me you’re not going to do anything like this again.”

He doesn’t give a reply.

“Regulus, promise me. Please.”

Regulus pulls his arm sharply out of James’ grip, staring up at him defiantly. “It’s none of your business what I do with my life. Not anymore.”

“It is when you’re trying to fucking drown yourself,” James snaps. “You can’t do that.”

“I could have, if you hadn’t dragged me out of the lake again,” Regulus mutters.

James huffs, his eyes burning with fury and pain and desperation. “This isn’t funny.”

Regulus can’t argue there.

He doesn’t get it, why would James care now? It’s not like he’s cared about him at any point during the past two months. It’s not like anyone has.

James’ expression softens ever so slightly. His voice is quiet when he speaks, the anger gone, now breaking from something else. “I need you to tell me when it gets bad again.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you.”

“Why?” Regulus repeats.

James frowns. He doesn’t know the answer either. Regulus doubts he even knows if what he’s said is true at all. “Just, please. When it gets this bad... Tell me.”

Regulus fights with himself, tries his best to stay afloat, but he never knew how to deny James anything when he looks at him like this, eyes huge and glassy with the first idea of tears. So he grinds his teeth and nods.

“Do you promise?”

Another nod.

“You swear it?”

“Under the Unbreakable Vow, if you want,” Regulus says.

And James’ face splits with relief and desperation sets in as he extends his arm towards Regulus, a silent plea to stay true to his word. It’s the first time in months they really touch when Regulus accepts his hand, and when James pulls his wand and speaks the incantation, it’s the warmest Regulus has felt in months, too.

When the magic wraps around their joined hands Regulus knows this is the closest their souls will ever be intertwined again.

Regulus still dreams of drowning. He dreams of the gentle sway of the ocean pulling him in, the soft sounds of waves against his skin, closing in above his head, lulling him in and drawing him down. A lullaby just for him, the gentle rocking back and forth before his eyes close a final time.

Regulus dreams of drowning under the sun.

At night, under the stars, he dreams of different things. He dreams of hands extending out to him, magic tying souls together, lips on his lips, hands in tousled hair.

He dreams of living only when he closes his eyes.

Regulus wonders if he should feel guilty about it. Should feel guilty about using James’ naivety against him, his need to help and his blinded desperation. He supposes he should. If it wasn’t James who had promised him a forever, no matter what, only to take his words back when Regulus followed the path he was always destined to go.

He supposes it doesn’t matter in the end.

James broke his promise. It is only fair that Regulus breaks his too.

The right thing to do, James had said. The only right choice.

This, too, is the right choice. The only right thing to do.

When the hands take hold of him and pull him closer, holding onto him cold and wet in places where once the sun had held him, Regulus doesn’t know if it is the water embedded in his lungs or the vow tied around his soul that claims his final breath.