#Valentine's Day 18 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miheartsedthings · 11 months ago

Text

Happy Valentine's Day, Loves!

Ready for a treat? 😊 I've got just the thing. Let's take a look at your first kiss with Billy Hargrove.

Summary: Because of an altercation with his dad, Billy shows up late for your first date, and with a black eye. The two of you end up on the playground looking at the stars.

SFW Billy x Reader

Warnings: Implied child abuse.

Note: You and Billy are both 18 but you haven't graduated yet.

❣️The First Kiss❣️

You're watching the clock on your nightstand slowly countdown to 6pm. Your nerves are rattling, and you can't find the bracelet you wanted to wear. You started getting ready two hours ago, yet it feels like time has flown by and you're still rushing around putting on finishing touches. This is what Billy Hargrove does to you.

You'd met in detention. You were there for your alleged involvement in a fight. In truth all you'd done was pull a girl off your friend when it looked like she was losing. You may have tossed a couple words at the other girl but nothing that wasn't true. Nevertheless your friend got suspended and you got detention, where Billy Hargrove sat leaned back in his chair, arm slung around the back of the empty seat beside him.

The chaperone left halfway through the hour to run an errand, leaving you alone with the mischievous hottie who, unbeknownst to you, was stealing glances at you whenever he could. Before you knew it, he was plopping down in the seat beside you, tossing his arm behind your back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Didn't know you were the fighting type.”

You were surprised to hear him talk to you. Billy Hargrove who only associated with the popular and blonde. It hadn't occurred to you that he knew anything about you, let alone why you'd gotten in trouble.

“I broke up the fight, actually.”

“That's real heroic.”

You cut your eyes at him, annoyed by his condescending tone. He only smirked.

“You better be careful making that face at me.”

Your face warmed, nerves fluttering in your stomach. He laughed because he could tell what kind of effect he had on you. Before you knew it the two of you were talking about the hardass way Hawkins approached discipline. He asked if you wanted to ditch the rest of detention, and when you said you couldn't risk getting into more trouble, he teased you. You asked if he would stop bothering you so you could pass the rest of the hour in peace, and he asked you out.

That was a few hours ago, and now you're freaking out because you can't find your bracelet and the clock just struck 6. You rifle through your jewelry case one more time, then finally give up. You snatch your phone from the charger, add an extra puff of perfume, and rush out of your bedroom. In the end, all the rushing is for nothing, because you get downstairs and go to the window, just to find that Billy isn't there. Not a big deal, he's never come across as a punctual person. You sat on the couch and waited, still excited. You wonder if he'll like your outfit, the way you styled your hair. Minutes tick by.

“He's still not here?” Your mom asks, clearly disapproving.

“He's just a little late. No big deal.”

You try to hide your nerves but you're starting to worry. Wondering if the whole thing had been a joke. You've heard rumors about Billy being rude and sometimes downright cruel, but you figured they were exaggerations. Maybe you'd been naive in this.

Five and then ten minutes goes by, and with every moment you doubt more and more the fun you'd had with him in detention. Maybe you'd imagined that he'd been into you. Foolishly believed he'd break from his asshole behavior and show you a better side of himself. After nearly 30 minutes you're ready to call it. Your mom is saying he doesn't know what he's missing and you're trying not to feel like an idiot, when your phone rings. You stare at the phone a moment before you answer. You bring it to your ear and don't even say anything. Too angry to speak.

“I'm here.”

Is all he says before hanging up.

“Tell me you're not going.” Your mom says, giving you a look.

“I'll be back before curfew.”

Outside, Billy sits in his black Camaro with his sunglasses on, bobbing his head to “Symphony of Destruction” by Megadeath. You slip into the passenger seat and stare at him for a moment, not even closing the door. He looks over.

“Yeah?”

You snip back. He smirks.

“Damn, you really are so cute when you're mad.”

He goes to touch your cheek and you turn your face away.

“You're late.”

You say, fighting your attraction to him with your arms crossed. His demeanor is cold, and he watches you behind those shades with a flat expression.

“I got into somethin’”

“You got into something.”

His jaw tensed.

“You gonna let me make it up to you?”

His tone is sharp and wounding. You're conflicted for a moment. If he hadn't shown up at all you would've been sure he was just fucking with you. If he'd sat there in detention without saying a word to you, your life would've gone on as normal. But, he'd spoken to you, and nothing's normal anymore. You're sitting there with Billy Hargrove, he's late but he's there, asking to make it up to you.

You shut the door and the song changes from Megadeath to Metallica. Any giddiness you'd felt for the date has already drained away and now you're more curious than anything. What exactly did he ‘get into’ that made him so late? Why was he being so uncharacteristically quiet? And why in the goddamn hell was he wearing sunglasses at night?

You hoped this wasn't the legendary Hargrove charm; showing up late in a shitty mood paying lazy homage to some tacky rock song? No thanks.

The burger place is pretty packed when the two of you arrive. People crowded into the space. One booth is full of kids graduating under you who recognize Billy instantly. They lean into their little cluster and whisper, not even attempting discretion. You focus on the menu, remembering your appetite in a sudden rush of hunger.

“Man, I forgot how hungry I was.”

You say as the two of you settle at a booth with your meals.

“How do you forget something like that?”

He doesn't take off the sunglasses to eat. You shrug and answer with your mouth full.

“Thought I was getting stood up.”

“Why would I ask you out just to stand you up?”

“Happens all the time.”

“To you?”

“Well, yeah. Once.”

He stops mid-chew, looking at you.

“No shit.”

“I'm serious. I really liked the guy, too. Left me waiting at a roller rink.”

He shakes his head.

“Fuckin dumbass.”

You smile a little. It can't be helped. After food you climb back into the car. You've already missed half of the movie you were meant to see.

“Wanna wait for the later one?”

You ask him, only to be met with a shrug. He's noticeably distracted and drives with the music turned up. Every once in a while he winces as if in some invisible pain.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm great, doll, how are you?”

He looks at you, cracking his lips into a forced smile.

“I'm wondering why you're wearing sunglasses?”

“Is it a problem? I'll take you home if you don't like it.”

“Is that what you wanna do? Go back home?”

This makes him settle, and the little sneer recedes until he's flat again. Hidden.

“I have an idea.”

You direct him to your old elementary school’s playground. Once there, you're reminded of your favorite pastime and your giddiness returns. As soon as the car is in park you unbuckle and hop out.

“Damn,” he exclaims, hurrying to follow you.

You glance up at the sky, ecstatic to find the street lamps are dim enough to see a bounty of stars.

“Ah, it's perfect.”

You race through the wood chips heading right for the swings.

“Alright,” You hop onto one of the swings and start pumping “I'm about to show you my special talent.”

“Don't get yourself hurt,” he chides and you shush him, already going faster and swinging higher than his head.

“You just stand back. Don't get in my way.”

He does stand back, shaking his head at you with a little amused smile.

“If you break your fuckin legs I swear to God.”

“I won't. I'm going over, up and over!”

“What?”

He's more than a little concerned when he sees how high you're going and realizes what you're talking about.

“What the fuck? Are you kidding?”

You swing up, your belly dropping with the familiar momentum, the world tilts backwards and for a moment you're flying.

“Nope.”

The trees bend away at an angle, and the city skyline stretches far beyond. You can see fields in the distance.

“You're not a kid, you're gonna fuckin tip this thing.”

“I won't!”

Your words whip by on the wind rushing past your face, then, a smattering of stars smears across your vision and for a moment you and the world are upside down. The chains rattle as your swing comes clammering back down to center, one loop completed. You're laughing uncontrollably and stagger off the swing on wobbly legs. Your head rushing.

“Holy shit.”

Billy’s mouth is hanging ajar.

“Told you.” You switch your hips like a boisterous pigeon, teasing “You're gonna fuckin flip it, you're not a fuckin kid.”

Before you can finish the taunt he's after you. The two of you take off in a game of chase, dashing through the chips, over the see saw and under the monkey bars until finally, he snatches you into his arms. His grip is tight around your waist from behind.

“Okay, okay, I give up.”

The two of you relax, and his grip eases, but there you are in his arms. Neither of you want to let go just yet. You stand there, his breath warm on your ear, his arms around your middle and your arms over his. The two of you fit together so perfectly. You turn your head, finding his lips right there, his handsome face, and those sunglasses. You reach up to remove them and he catches your hand.

“You're so weird.” You say, softly.

“Me? You're the one who almost nut yourself over the swingset.”

He had a point. The two of you make your way to the playset and lay down on the brown plastic, looking up at the stars.

“When I leave here, I'm going somewhere warm." You say, eyes on the stars "All I'm gonna do is sit outside drinking white wine and all I'm gonna eat is lobsters and coconuts.”

“Sounds like you're going to Cali, then.”

“I'll try it out, for sure. But I gotta see Jamaica, too. And the Virgin Islands. Miami, even.”

“I could see you in Miami.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him.

“Yeah?”

He smiles, and for once it's a real smile instead of a smirk.

“Yeah. But Cali’s better.”

You smile back.

“I'm glad you showed up.”

He doesn't say anything, but there's a response, a change in the way he regards you that you can't help but notice. Maybe it's the set of his mouth or the softening of his brows. Either way, the air is filled with static. When you speak again, it's so softly you think he might not hear you.

“Are you gonna tell me why you were late?”

He looks at you for a long moment. So long that you start to make your peace with the idea that you might never know. Then, he lifts up on his elbows and slowly takes off the sunglasses. Around his left eye, a darkening bruise. Your heart sinks looking at it, and registering the trepidation in his gaze. He isn't looking directly at you, his eyes focused on your lips, his expression flat, as if bracing for the worst.

You do something you've wanted to do for a long time, which is trace your finger along his jawline and then along his bottom lip. His eyes are kind. So kind it's a wonder he can be so intimidating. Looking at him now, you can't imagine this person hurting anyone. His eyes are kind, catching the light of the stars.

“Still so cute,” you say, and the relief he feels crumples his brow. He touches your cheek with the backs of his fingers, caressing gently. Then, you could be imagining it, but it seems like he's leaning in. No, he is leaning in! Your heart jerks to a start as he comes slowly closer. You close your eyes, and sure enough there are his lips, soft against your own.

You never imagined a kiss with him would feel so pure. You didn't think his tongue would be sweet, you didn't think he'd hold your chin and kiss you like you were so precious. But soon you'd know this kiss, you'd come to know it as the way he kisses you when he means to say: “I love you.”

Thanks for reading!! 💖

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove 18+#billy hargrove smut #stranger things #fanfic #billy #billy hargrove imagine #valentines day #miheartsedthings

217 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 23

Warnings: Smut- slightly vague, 18+ readers only

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.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

𝕴 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖕𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 bed, my hand bleeding. I didn't bother cleaning it up and just fell asleep on the bed.

When I woke up Tuesday morning I found that there was a puddle of dried blood on the floor and the blood had dried on the back of my hand too.

I cleaned up the puddle and then bandaged my hand and went downstairs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just sat down and when I sat down, Harry told me about how Occlumency had gone- poorly.

And then they told me that the weapon that Voldemort was trying to get was in the Ministry of Magic- in the Department of Mysteries to be more exact. And that was what Sturgis Podmore was trying to get into.

I stared at them, extremely annoyed, and then said when they'd finished speaking, "You know I said most of this like at the hospital, right?"

They stared blankly at me and then I saw something in my visions and I said, "Oh no."

"What?" They all asked.

"Where's the Daily Prophet Hermione?" I asked, looking around. At that moment, the owls came flying down, dropping a newspaper on mine and her lap. I quickly smoothed it over and felt my heart sink. "They did escape." I muttered.

Antonin Dolohov, August Rookwood, Bellatrix Lestrange, Travers, Rebastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Mulciber II were the names that popped out at me.

"Oh Merlin." Hermione said. Ron was looking over at my newspaper and Harry was looking at Hermione's.

"They're blaming Sirius for it." I said, scanning the article which mentioned that the new nine. . . no, ten. . . escapees must've learned it from the 'master' Sirius Black.

"Of course they are." Hermione said. "What other option does Fudge have? 'Sorry everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort'- stop whimpering Ron- 'and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out too'. I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?"

It still gave me a shock when she said his name. "No one else looks as worried though, do they?" Harry asked.

I looked around and saw what he meant. They were all talking about Quidditch and homework and a Hogsmeade visit on Valentine's Day. "The teachers table is another story though." I said, nodding up at the teachers' table.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were in deep conversation, the newspaper in front of them. Professor Sprout had her newspaper propped up on a ketchup bottle and was so interested in the newspaper that she didn't realize her eggs were falling into her lap. I couldn't see Flitwick's reaction because he'd disappeared behind his newspaper. Severus had the newspaper flat on the table, a finger on his lips, and a hand on his fork, moving his food around on his plate aimlessly. I wondered if his reaction was for show. Surely he had known they would break out, right? Maybe he was reading a different article? Umbridge kept looking at Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Oh my-" Hermione said and I looked away from the teacher's table.

"What now?" Harry asked.

"It's. . . horrible." Hermione said, glancing at me.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a potted-plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death. Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr. Bode's ward at the time of the incident, has been sus- pended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement, "St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident." "We have strict guidelines on the decorations per- mitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout en- couraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare, which, when touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly. "St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."

"What do they mean they're unable to account for presence of the plant?" I asked furiously. "Mad-Eye, Bill, and I all told her to get rid of the damn plant!"

"But who expects Devil's Snare to turn up in a hospital disguised as a potted plant? It's not our fault, whoever sent it to the bloke is to blame! They must be a real prat, why didn't they check what they were buying?" Ron asked sharply.

"Oh come on, Ron!" Hermione said, a bit annoyed, a bit shaky. "This- this was murder. Elizabeth said he worked in the Department of Mysteries. It was a clever murder, as well. . . if the plant was sent anonymously and the Death Eaters. . . they were obviously there that day." She closed the newspaper, deep in thought and then she leapt to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, startled.

"To send a letter. It. . . well, I don't know whether. . . but it's worth trying. . . and I'm the only one who can. . ." Hermione said, deep in thought and ran out of the Great Hall.

"I hate it when she does that." Ron said. I got up too. "Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"My house table." I said, glancing up at the teachers table. Dumbledore and I met eyes for a second and then I turned, hurrying to the Hufflepuff table.

"Elizabeth!" Susan said joyfully. "How was your Christmas?"

"Horrible." I snapped unceremoniously, "Look at this."

I laid the newspaper down on the table and after staring at it for two seconds, Susan knocked over her drink in order to snatch up the newspaper and stare at it more closely. In a flash, Ernie, Justin, Zacharias, Hannah, and Rose were all there.

"What is it?" Zacharias asked as Heidi and Malcolm came over. They all stood behind Susan, looking at the newspaper. Other Hufflepuffs were looking at us curiously and some of them even stood up to see what the newspaper said or turned to others who had gotten the paper but hadn't opened it.

"They went to join You-Know-Who!" Ernie said viciously.

I nodded. "We should up the D.A. meetings." I said. "We need to learn to defend ourselves more than ever."

They all agreed and I said I would talk with Harry. Susan was extremely distraught as she had an uncle, aunt, and cousins that had been killed by one of the ten Death Eaters who had escaped. She wasn't the only one either.

Neville's parents, obviously, had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. A new changed seemed to come over him in the following weeks, working even harder at D.A. I was so busy, that I barely got to see Severus for more than a few seconds.

Everyone had started talking about the Death Eaters breaking out of Azkaban and what was more: They were starting to believe Dumbledore and Harry rather than the Daily Prophet. The teachers could be found standing in small clumps of two and three- even Severus, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"They obviously can't talk freely in the staffroom anymore." Hermione said in a low voice as we passed McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout in the hallway. "Not with Umbridge there."

"Reckon they know anything new?" Ron asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

"If they do, we're not going to heart about it, are we? Not after Decree. . . what number are we on now?" Harry asked angrily.

"We're on Decree twenty-seven but the one you're referring to is decree twenty-six." I repeated immediately.

Decree Twenty- six was: Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.

Decree Twenty-seven read: Private lessons are no longer allowed for students unless it is a group study.

I'd canceled all my private lessons with McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout. I wasn't going to risk their jobs for learning. Of course, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout now had me coming in to grade stuff for them and learn along the way- especially if I was grading older students stuff. (I had a key to help correct answers).

However, Decree Twenty-six was a joke amongst students. Lee had pointed out that Umbridge was breaking her own law when she told Fred and George not to play exploding snap in her classroom. "Exploding Snap's got nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor! That's not information relating to your subject."

I saw Lee with the words, 'I must not talk back to my superiors' written on the back of his hand and gave him essence of Murtlap so that he could, hopefully, not have those words scarred on the back of his hands.

Hagrid was on probation though. Of course, I wasn't as surprised as Ron had been, because I'd foreseen it. Umbridge was in every Divination and Care of Magical Creatures class which meant I had a lot of free periods when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. I supposed Umbridge was trying to figure out which teacher she was going to sack first.

I had gone to Hagrid multiple times before classes so that I could know ahead of time what he was teaching. This also helped me tell him what questions students could possibly ask and what the correct questions were.

It wasn't that Hagrid didn't know the answers to questions, it was that he often answered things wrong with Umbridge talking loudly and also marking things down on her clipboard often. Half the time I didn't even think she was actually writing anything but instead, just throwing him off balance. But despite my efforts, Hagrid still seemed to get mixed up during classes.

Harry was holding twice as many D.A. meetings than before. Rose and Grace were starting to work on the harder second-year, easier third-year charms. I was also teaching them on extra days on the charms that Harry was teaching the older kids. While they weren't able to do them, they were able to block some things I shot their way.

As the youngest students, they were working the hardest, eager to catch up to what we were doing. Rose and I were so close, closer than I'd ever been with a Hufflepuff besides Cedric that we both admitted that we were like big and little sister to each other. I would've died for her as much as I would've died for Dad or Harry or Severus.

As I've said before, Neville was working harder than anyone else. It was to everyone's greatest surprise that when Harry taught us the shield charm, Hermione and I were the only ones who mastered it before Neville.

Harry had confided in me that he was doing horribly in Occlumency and so, on top of everything else I was doing- prefect duties, tutoring Rose and Grace, grading things for the four Professors, interning under Madam Pomfrey, DA meetings, and Quidditch practices- I was now trying to help Harry master Occlumency. It got to the point that I was using my time-turner again- and not just for classes.

Finally, a week before the Hogsmeade date, I found a night to visit Severus. Harry had only just left his private lesson and Severus was spooning memories back into his head from his pensieve.

I closed the door behind me and locked it as Severus put the pensieve back into a hiding spot in the wall. He was wearing only his shirt and his slacks. He'd already kicked off his shoes and socks. His long hair was hanging in his face.

"About time." he said softly, crossing the room and kissing me. My heart was pounding in my chest. Could I dare to do what I wanted?

I put my fingers lightly on his face, barely breathing. We made our way to where I was headed- the bed. My heart began to beat faster and as his hand was on my chest he whispered, "Your heart's going crazy."

My mouth seemed very dry all of a sudden and my throat was tight. I was so nervous. "Severus. . . do you. . . do you want me?"

His eyes became curious and cautious at the same time, and very carefully he said, "Of course I do. I asked you to marry me, didn't I?"

I blushed. He didn't understand. My fingers trembled at his shirt front. Then I clenched my fists together and bent down and kissed him, moving my hands away from the buttons. It was no good, I couldn't do it.

His hands drew up and slid my robe off my shoulders and I let it slide to the floor. I continued to kiss him as his fingers moved deftly, loosening my tie, and letting that fall to the floor as well. His fingers touched the buttons on the front of my shirt and I moved my lips to his throat. His fingers worked faster as I bit him gently, practically forcing the buttons apart.

It gave me the courage to undo the buttons on his shirt. I was sitting on top of him, sitting up, undoing the buttons on his shirt. My fingers were much clumsier than his, but he waited patiently, kissing my neck until I had finished and his shirt fell to the floor on top of mine.

His fingers went behind my back, undoing the clasp on my bra and that fell to the floor too. I couldn't look at him though and so, blushing, I looked down at his abs, tracing them with my fingers. His fingers traced over my breasts, tracing lightly across the soft skin and I breathed out. In such a sudden movement, I never would've predicted it, he'd rolled over on top of me, pressing me down into the bed.

Things were going exactly as I'd hoped and we were both naked within a few moments notice. My eyes closed, I didn't even notice where his mouth was until I felt it on my clit. I let out a moan almost against my will. I had never felt something more pleasurable in my entire life and I was sure it would just increase. And then his tongue was traveling up my stomach, making me shiver, and he kissed me between my breasts. I opened my eyes and met Severus' which were bright with excitement.

There was a bit of hesitation on his end and then, he slid into me. We both gasped at the same time. And then, time stopped existing. There was no more world. It was just the two of us in this room and that was it.

I had never felt so great in my entire life as he thrusted himself over and over into me. I'd never felt anything like it, and it was the best thing on the planet. I could not get enough. My lips forever searched his and when we broke apart, our lips were always somewhere else on the other's skin. Mine were always at his throat, leaving dark purple bruises of love. His were either at my throat or at my breasts- a whole new sensation in itself.

And there were other sensations, lower in me, things that seemed to build up and release before settling down, only to reach that point again.

It was nearly an hour before we stopped, both of us, curling up with the other, our arms around each other in a way that we'd never held each other before. There was a new closeness to us, our naked bodies tangled together. I was safe here. I was safe in his arms with the sheets wrapped around us, his hair on my cheek. My hair was splayed out on the pillow, out of the way.

We were both breathing deeply, both of us extremely satisfied and we both fell asleep, completely and totally content.

I could barely believe what had happened last night when I woke up, and I might've thought it to be a dream if I wasn't so sore- and completely naked.

I winced, touching my legs and stomach. There was a soreness in my hips that I had never felt before.

"Did I hurt you?" Severus asked in concern as I stood up, wincing again.

"No, that was. . . that was lovely." I said, blushing and looking away. "Just sore for some reason, that's all."

He chuckled, holding my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. It took us nearly twenty minutes to finally get dressed and leave the office. I couldn't remember what day it was or my name or where I was.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 more completely in the Great Hall. I'd checked myself in the bathroom and covered up any marks that would've led to interesting questions with make up. I finally remembered that today was Monday. I was so glad that I didn't have Umbridge that I was humming.

All in all, I was just in a good mood. I wanted to go back tonight. I wanted to do it again and again and again. I wanted to run from Hogwarts with Severus and buy a beach house in Australia and the two of us live happily ever after away from this mess. Voldemort would- ideally- leave us alone to be happy.

Of course, it was just a daydream. I couldn't go back tonight, I had way to much homework. Neither of us were running away either. I couldn't leave everyone here to face Voldemort on their own. Severus wasn't going to abandon his duties here either.

So, I contented myself to simply daydreaming throughout my classes. People kept asking what I was so happy about and I just kept saying that I was glad it was February.

While I didn't get to spend an adequate amount of time with Severus over the next week, I made sure to clear my schedule and finish all my homework so that we could spend the night together on Valentine's day. . . if he wanted to of course.

I'd never before doubted about whether or not he would want to see me. I'd always shown up and we'd kissed. Sometimes I slept over and sometimes I didn't. But things seemed so different now. We were engaged, we'd had sex, would things be different between us? Would he expect to have sex every time I stayed over. I didn't mind that as much but would he get tired of it? Of me? I was so distracted during Potions lessons that for the first time ever, that I didn't finish the potion. Everyone seemed a bit surprised by that- but Severus didn't.

In fact, when everyone had left, I found that he was positively grinning at the fact that I hadn't finished my potion.

"What?" I asked, blood rushing to my cheeks. "Why are you smiling?"

"You're so easy to read." He said smugly.

I stared at him for a second and then threw my crystal phial at him. "You went into my mind!" I exclaimed, completely and totally embarrassed. He caught the phial in his hand and put it down on the desk as he approached me.

"Only a bit." He said, still smug. "And to answer all your lovely questions. . ." He pressed me up against the wall. "Of course I'm not going to get tired of you. . ." he pressed his lips to mine. I would've liked him to flip me onto the table right then and there but I knew that I was going to have to leave if I wanted to get to Hogsmeade.

"So I'll. . . I'll come back tonight?" I asked, looking at him hesitantly as he released me.

"Of course you will." He said, running his hand through my hair. "Because I want you to. And you do as I say, like a good girl." He kissed me again.

"Yes sir." I said breathlessly as he kissed me again, and I had a hard time finding my way out of the room.

I wouldn't have even gone to Hogsmeade if I hadn't known about Hermione and Rita Skeeter's story. I went up into the Hufflepuff dorm room. I had Severus' wedding ring on my left finger, under the disillusionment charm and I put the dragon ring that dad had given me on the opposite hand so that the attraction would be drawn there if anyone looked at my hands. Then I put my locket on over the top of my clothes so that if it did burn, I wouldn't feel it.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and grabbed the bag dad had given me for Christmas this year, filling it with my art books, art tools, and a few other things like my Chocolate Frog collecting binder.

I then headed out to Hogsmeade, excited about later tonight. I hung out with Susan, Justin, Zacharias, Ernie, Heidi, and Hannah for the first half. We sat in Three Broomsticks.

"Don't you think its weird that all these Death Eaters escaped and there isn't a single dementor about?" Ernie asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"Yeah!" Susan said. "and yet when Sirius Black escaped, there were so many around."

"Why do you think that is Elizabeth?" Justin asked, taking a sip of his butterbeer.

I looked at them thoughtfully and then said, "Well. . . for one thing. . . I believe that it means the Dementors are no longer under the Ministry's control. Of course, Sirius was innocent so you know, that's just how it works."

"He was innocent?" Hannah asked curiously.

"How do you know that?" Zacharias asked with a snort.

Carefully, making it sound like I'd foreseen the story, I told them about Sirius and Peter Pettigrew and basically the entire story. Of course, I didn't tell them about how we'd helped him escape. I also kept silent about knowing him.

"Wow." Susan said, stunned. "I can't believe. . . I mean I'd heard about Peter Pettigrew of course- that Sirius Black had killed him. . . I can't believe. . . wow."

Ernie snorted, "Typical Ministry. Waste dementors on an innocent man and don't send any after those that are legitimately evil."

"I feel bad for Sirius." Hannah said thoughtfully. "Imagine not having anyone believe that your innocent. I can't believe the Minister didn't believe your story."

I shrugged. "Yeah well he also didn't believe me when I said that You-Know-Who was back so. . ."

"Did Dumbledore know about Sirius?" Zacharias asked.

I nodded. "He believed me and of course, he questioned Sirius when he was captured two years ago and Sirius told him the story. That's how I got a few of the extra details of course."

Ernie just shook his head.

I watched Rita Skeeter walk into the Three Broomsticks and I said, "Hey, do you guys trust me?"

"Of course." They all said immediately, even Zacharias- slightly surprising.

"Then I recommend that you guys take out subscriptions for The Quibbler. I have to go. I'll see you guys soon." I moved out of the table and approached the table where Hermione and Luna were sitting with Rita Skeeter.

"Oh, hello Elizabeth." Hermione said brightly.

"Hello Hermione." I said, "Hey Luna." I sat down with them. I could see the Hufflepuffs looking at us curiously. They were whispering amongst themselves though they soon turned back to talk with each other. I wondered what they were talking about and I wished I had an Extendable Ear on me.

Instead, I contented myself by pulling out my art pad and started drawing Rita Skeeter as she looked now. Her unkempt hair, her chipped nails, the jewels missing from her glasses, etc. She looked horribly and I was incredibly gleeful. The drawing was revenge on her from the many horrible articles that she'd written last year.

Suddenly Hermione was saying, "Harry! Harry, over here!"

I looked up and put away the art pad as Harry made his way over. It must've been raining because his hair was soaking wet and looking totally wild. He pushed it out of his eyes. "You're early!" Hermione said, moving over so that he could sit down. "I thought you were with Cho, I wasn't expecting you for another hour at least!"

"Cho? A girl?" Rita asked, turning in her chair to look at Harry.

"It's none of your business if Harry's been with a hundred girls so you can put that away right now." Hermione said coolly. Rita Skeeter's mouth puckered and she put the Quick-Quotes Quill back in her crocodile skinned purse.

"What are you up to?" Harry asked, looking between Luna, Hermione, Rita, and I.

"Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me when you arrived. I suppose I'm allowed to talk to him, am I?" Rita asked as she took a sip of her drink.

"Yes, I suppose you are." Hermione said coolly.

"Pretty girl, is she, Harry?" Rita immediately asked.

"One more word about Harry's love life and the deal's off and that's a promise." Hermione said irritably.

"What deal? You haven't mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days..." Rita said, shuddering.

"Yes, yes, one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry and me. Find someone who cares, why don't you?" Hermione said.

"They've run plenty of horrible stories about Harry this year without my help. How has that made you feel, Harry? Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood?" Rita said, seeming almost happy about it.

"He feels angry, of course." Hermione answered for Harry. "Because he's told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Minister's too much of an idiot to believe him."

"So you actually stick to it, do you, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back? You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness-?" Rita asked.

"I wasn't the sole witness. There were a dozen-odd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names?" Harry snarled.

"I'd love them." Rita breathed, gazing at Harry in almost a loving way. "A great bold headline: 'Potter Accuses. . .' A subheading: 'Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among us'. And then beneath a big photograph of you: 'Disturbed teenage survivor of You-Know-Who's attack, Harry Potter, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the Wizarding community of being Death Eaters. . ." Her quill was already in her hand and then her smiled dropped and said contemptuously. "But of course, little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?"

"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what Little Miss Perfect does want." Hermione said so sweetly I was vividly reminded of Professor Umbitch- Umbridge. Harry and Rita looked at her in amazement.

"You want me to report what he says about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Rita asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes, I do. the true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry reports them. He'll give you all the details, he'll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there, he'll tell you what Voldemort looks like now- oh get a grip on yourself." Hermione said, throwing Rita a napkin as she had slopped her drink down her front. "And Elizabeth might even tell you about the attacks she had this Christmas."

I shot her a look. I hadn't bargained on that but at the same time. . . Severus had told me that I'd broken Notts knee. . . and I could definitely throw in Malfoy considering I'd recognized his voice. . .

"The Prophet wouldn't print it. In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes his cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks he's delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle-"

"We don't need another story about how Harry's lost his marbles! We've had plenty of those already, thank you! I want him given the opportunity to tell the truth!" Hermione said angrily.

"There's no market for a story like that." Rita said coldly.

"You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them." Hermione said in an irritable voice.

"All right, Fudge, is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing." Rita said after a moment, leaning forward so that she could speak quietly. "They won't print a story that shows Harry in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It's against the public mood. This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just don't want to believe You-Know-Whos' back."

"It's even more dangerous for people to be ignorant of this." I said softly. "It makes them easier to control."

"My dad thinks it's an awful paper." Luna said out of nowhere. "He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money."

"I'm guessing your father runs some stupid little village newsletter? 'Twenty-five Ways to Mingle with Muggles' and the dates of the next Bring-and-Fly sale?"

"No, he's the editor of The Quibbler."

Rita snorted so loudly that neighboring tables looked over at her. "The Quibbler! You think people will take him seriously if he's published in The Quibbler?"

"Some people won't. But the Daily Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will be wondering whether there isn't a better explanation of what happened, and if there's an alternative story available, even if it is published in a- in a- well, an unusual magazine- I think they might be rather keen to read it."

"All right, let's say for a moment I'll do it. What kind of fee am I going to get?" Rita asked sharply.

"I don't think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine. They do it because it's an honor, and of course, to see their names in print." Luna said dreamily.

"I'm supposed to do this for free?" Rita asked, looking absolutely horrified. I kept my mouth shut. I was going to pay her, but no one knew that yet. I wasn't even giving her the gold until after the story came out.

"Well, yes. Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the Prophet might give you rather a lot for an insider's account of life in Azkaban. . ." Hermione said calmly.

My stomach turned considering I was an unregistered Animagus. I wondered if maybe I should've turned into a smaller animal so that I could've hidden better.

"I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?" Rita asked her, voice shaking slightly. I knew from dad's experiences that being unemployed was rather hard. That was the only reason I was going to pay her.

"Daddy will be pleased." Luna said brightly and a muscle twitched in Rita's cheek.

"Okay, Harry? Ready to tell the public the truth?" Hermione asked.

"I suppose." Harry said.

"Fire away, then, Rita." Hermione said.

⬅️➡️

12 notes · View notes