#amit thakkar (mentioned)

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Lullaby For An Auror

Aesop Sharp made peace with the fact he was going to spend the rest of his days in solitude. Fate had a different plan.

I went full Steph Meyers and wrote Some Like It Sharp from Aesop's perspective. None of this would be possible without @tea-withjamandbread who is my amazing consultant and even the author of multiple lines in this story. Love ya🧡

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN!

Lullaby For An Auror (27.2k words)

tw: past trauma, original character death, descriptions of violence, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, explicit, vaginal sex, teacher-student relationship (reader is adult), aesop sharp needs a hug

Aesop didn’t dream often. 

However, when he did, it was only the nightmares he remembered in the morning. Flashes of light hurting his eyes, the sound of a woman’s cry as she’s thrown into a stack of crates, blinding pain searing in his face, his leg and hip, pain so horrible he momentarily couldn’t focus on anything else. It was only when a ray of green light tore through the chaos all around him, when the world’s two foulest words rang through the air.

Avada Kedavra!

His partner. His oldest friend. His sister. That wild, mischievous look in her ever sparkling azure eyes was gone, replaced by a dull void. It was as if time slowed down as Aesop watched her fall, her mouth slightly open, her skin losing its pinkish hue by the second. There was more screaming, and it was only the pain in his throat that told him that he was its source. More shouting, more lights. 

Someone at the ministry must've realised Aesop and Ashley were led into a trap and reinforcements were sent.

It was too late, though.

Ashley was dead, and Aesop would be joining her real soon, if his withering hold on his consciousness, not to mention the blood flowing out of his leg and face were any clue. Using the last bits of his strength, he crawled the short distance to Ashley’s body and covered it with his own, pressing his head against her chest as if trying to will her heart to start beating again. His sobs were raw and ugly, and they made him ache even more than he already was, and when a pair of strong arms began pulling him away, he tried to fight them off. It was no use. He was weak, and he was dying. The last thing he saw before unconsciousness finally enveloped him in its sweet, painless embrace, was his partner. The woman who’s stood by him since before he held his first wand was dead, killed in cold blood like an animal.

—

It’s been more than a decade now. The dream would come less and less, but it never truly went away. It never failed to wake him up in cold sweat with tears running out of his eyes, his throat sore from screaming out of his sleep. The pain was so horrible right then like it was on that day itself. Aesop let himself fall out of the bed in a heap of limbs. He whimpered and cried out in pain, gripping his left leg as he crawled towards the little chest at the foot of his bed. Once he managed to do so, he immediately gulped down several vials of Wiggenweld potions that were stored inside, closely followed by a bottle of Calming draught. 

His heartbeat was fast and uneven, his breathing was shallow, and his entire body was covered by gooseflesh and a thin layer of sweat, as he still writhed on the cold floor. 

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t, he was going to die. 

Little by little, however, the potions began taking effect. The calming draught was first to work. Aesop’s breathing grew even once more and he felt his thoughts slowly dissipating, until his mind was blank, filled with gentle nothing. Then, and only then, did he feel the cramping pain in his leg start to lessen, enough so that he was able to climb back into bed and fall onto his side heavily. Aesop focused on his breathing, focused on keeping his mind empty, focused on falling back to sleep, and hoped there would be no more nightmares.

Aesop only ever remembered his nightmares. Everything pleasant that happened in his dreams was promptly forgotten by his self-destructive brain.

Then, however, something changed.

—

It was one of the more eventful years. In all of his time of teaching, he never before heard of a student starting their attendance in Hogwarts as anything other than a first year, unless they were transferred from a different school, of course. And as sceptical as he originally was, the girl proved not only to be a formidable young witch, but also perhaps one of the strongest, most talented and most resilient students Aesop ever taught. 

However, as resilient as she was, she was still a sixteen year old lass, and the trauma she went through was a bite many wizards beyond her years and experience wouldn’t be able to chew. It fell onto Aesop to watch her shatter and attempt to put her back together. 

It was a job he didn’t think he was a very good choice for. Actually, in his opinion, almost anyone would be better. Aesop wasn’t the motherly Matilda Weasley and Mudiwa Onai, or the ever empathetic and optimistic Mirabel Garlick and Abraham Ronen, and he absolutely wasn’t as wise and at peace as his dear friend Dinah Hecat was. And yet, the young Ravenclaw seemed to click with him the best. He was the one to whom she opened up, he was the one in front of whom she finally dropped her facade.

He should've known that one afternoon in his office wouldn’t be enough. Their little encounter on the top of Astronomy tower sometime later proved as much. 

He stayed with her almost the entire night, his hand resting on her back as they sat together underneath the staircase leading to the Ravenclaw tower. He let her talk and cry her poor eyes out, being the one firm spot in the universe to ground her at that moment. And when he saw the first hints of rising sun fight their way above the horizon through the windows in the corridor, he called for a house elf to bring a vial of Dreamless sleep potion from his stores. 

Aesop was tired, and his body was aching, so he didn’t accompany her all the way up the stairs to her common room, but he made her swear to him she would drink that potion, that she would just lie into her bed and not worry about anything. He could only hope she actually followed his instructions. Once he finally reached his own chambers, he felt pretty miserable himself. His only comfort was the fact he only had afternoon classes today, so he was able to get at least a few hours of sleep. 

Honestly, he’s had worse, back when he was an Auror.

Before he retired to bed however, he wrote a few short letters. One for the Ravenclaw prefects to make sure nobody woke their troubled classmate, and then a few more to the teachers of her classes for that day, in which he explained the situation. When he finally fell into bed in just his underwear, too exhausted to bother changing, he only thought of the girl and the situation he got himself into for a little while, before sleep’s possessive spell descended down on him.

It was the first time in years Aesop remembered a dream that wasn’t a nightmare upon waking up.

He didn’t even realise he was dreaming at first. He was still sitting with the young woman, his thumb slowly stroking over her shoulder blade as he listened. She was leaning against him, resting her head on his strong shoulder. Aesop could almost feel where her tears slowly fell upon the fabric of his trousers. Her body was warm against his side, her voice so quiet nobody but him would be able to hear it. How he hated to see this frankly incredible young woman like this, fragile and vulnerable, like a mighty phoenix that has just been reborn. He didn’t know what came over him when he pulled back slightly to press a short, comforting kiss into the crown of her hair.

Aesop opened his eyes. He guessed it was around noon, judging by the amount of light coming from his sitting room’s windows. By Salazar, he was tired, not to mention aching all over from his climb of the Astronomy tower staircase. However, as he thought of the events which transpired, he found that he had no regrets. 

Of course he had no regrets! Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t arrive when he did. Who knows what Miss (L/N) might have done…

No. Even now, he would gladly climb all the way up again if there was even the slightest possibility she might be there again. 

This thought prompted him to get up from his bed with a pained groan, wandlessly summoning a vial of Wiggenweld from his robes, and gulping it down in a single swallow. After a few deep breaths, he felt relief seeping throughout his body. Slowly, he stretched, wincing as he heard his joints pop loudly. His injury often made him feel older than he was, but today he felt positively ancient. However, he couldn’t dwell on such matters right now, as there were more important things at hand.

After he’d pulled on his dressing gown, he made his way over to his sitting room, soon settling into his armchair and summoning a house elf.

“What can Meeky do for Professor Sharp?”

“Bring me something to eat, please. Anything’s fine. And a spot of tea. And… Please, check the fifth year girls' dormitory in Ravenclaw tower. A girl there was… unwell the previous evening, so she’s been given a sleeping potion. She should still be sleeping now, but I want to be sure.”

With a nod to her head and a popping sound, the house elf left his chambers. Aesop thought back on his dream. It was… curious to say at least. The dream wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good either, it just… was. And yet he remembered every single detail of it, from the feeling of her hair tickling his neck, to the cool dampness of her tears staining his trousers. And the kiss he pressed into her hair… That was the one thing he didn’t do yesterday, and he had no idea why would his sleeping brain play out such a scene for him.

He was probably just thinking too much into it. Dreams were often just brain sorting memories into their proper boxes, combined with abstract thoughts that often made no sense.

Still, it was curious.

Why would he remember it?

—

He began to meet the young Ravenclaw more often, asking her for tea in his office after their last classes for the day, and to his surprise, she never declined. No, (F/N) (L/N) always came, and she came right on time. 

He talked to her about her hobbies and interests, and about her life in general. He was curious as to where ‘The Hero of Hogwarts’ grew up and how. 

When he saw her flinch and make a face at the title, he made a mental note to not call her that again.

He knew that she came from an upper class Muggle family even before he met her in September. An aristocratic family actually - which is why he was rather surprised when he first met her. She was generous and humble, clever and attentive, polite if not a little too proper at first. 

During their talks, Aesop slowly uncovered that her relationship with her family was lukewarm at best and strained at worst. She wasn’t looking forward to going home for the summer. 

At night Aesop dreamed about inviting the girl over to stay in one of the many free rooms of his own house in the Highlands for the holidays, where she’d be free to fly around, free to explore, free to learn, practice and have fun, as opposed to being stuck in some townhouse In Knightsbridge for two months, unable to even go to a park by herself. He dreamed of her beaming at him after he’d told her, dreamed of her arriving for supper, dressed in one of those ensembles she wore whenever she was running errands for someone, broom in hand and an excited mischievous smile on her face, intent on telling him all the things she saw on her travels. 

Happy.

Aesop wanted to see her happy like she used to be, like he saw her in his class when her potion turned out fantastic and he praised her for it.

At least his subconsciousness certainly wanted that, for it was projecting this image to him during his slumber, nearly every night after they met during the day, their little ‘tea times’ bleeding into his dreams.

It couldn’t be helped, something about her just made Aesop feel like she could actually understand him. And he often felt like he understood her. 

—-

He never actually made the offer. Of course he didn’t. How would he even explain it to her parents? “Please, let your sixteen year old daughter stay the summer with me, a forty-three year old man with a limp, a large facial scar and an overall rough exterior, so that she can fly around Scottish Highlands on a broom and practise her magic.” Aesop shuddered. He’d have his teeth fed to him so fast, he wouldn’t even manage to reach for his wand.

No, no. He spent his summer mostly by himself, only occasionally meeting up with Dinah and Abraham, or visiting his mother. He drew, revived his garden once more (though the plants were nowhere as potent as when Mirabel handled them), brewed some extra potions for the hospital wing as well as himself, and spent the evenings tucked away on a little bench near his father’s memorial with a book and a drink. Firewhisky, ale, butterbeer, whatever was on hand.

And he thought about (F/N) a lot. Wondered how she was. Actually considered owling her or stopping by, just to check up on her. He was glad that he didn't, as Mudiwa was ever so helpful and mentioned during one of the staff meetings over the summer that the soon-to-be sixth year student was staying with her and her daughter for a bit. It put his mind at ease. At least she wasn’t alone.

But it didn’t stop his mind wandering towards her every now and then, and then, as the beginning of term creeped closer, she appeared in his dream yet again. 

In this dream, Aesop was sitting on his little bench, reading some book, drinking a butterbeer, his leg propped upon a little wooden footstool. A typical summer evening for him. And yet it was different, for Miss (L/N) was there too. She was lying on her back upon a blanket a short distance from him, watching the first stars appear up in the summer sky and humming some sort of tune, her voice pleasant and undistracting. 

“Getting a tad too dark to be reading,” she mentioned suddenly, her voice quiet. She wasn’t wrong - Aesop could barely see the text in the book. He didn’t even know what he was reading, now that he thought about it. He could've cast Lumos to see better, but instead he closed the book and put it down onto the bench next to him. Without another word, he stood and walked over to the blanket. The girl paid him no mind, seemingly too fascinated with the stars. 

Aesop wouldn’t normally lie down on the ground, blanket or not, he was too fond of his back for that, not to mention even getting into such a position wasn’t exactly good for his leg.

And yet he soon found himself settled beside the young Ravenclaw, his leg and back absolutely fine. “The stars are quite beautiful, are they not, sir?” she asked quietly. And as Aesop watched the myriad of little dots littering the blue and purple sky like tender freckles, he couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

“Indeed they are.”

He didn’t much question his dream in the morning. He did however swap his coals for a set of watercolours the following evening. Curious that he never tried his hand at painting the night sky before…

—

It wasn’t the first time the girl brought him some potions ingredients. She did so after the first time she showed him just how what happened down in those caverns broke her, and then she sort of kept bringing them. Little bits and pieces, but always something useful and valuable. Unicorn an thestral hair, Acromantula venom, dragon scales… Once, she brought a Phoenix feather. Where on earth she got it, Aesop didn’t know, but instead of storing it for later experiments, he decided to hang onto it, perhaps turn it into a nice quill.

This little habit of hers, bringing him various ingredients, seemed to have carried on into her sixth year, if the quite sizable pouch she brought with her this evening was anything to go by. 

Aesop invited her to his office on Friday the first week of term, and was strangely pleased to see her beaming at him from the very moment she opened the door after he beckoned her inside. 

He asked about her summer, and then only happily listened with the tiniest little smile on his face as she told him in detail. The grief and sorrow were still lingering in the depths of her brilliant eyes, but it was obvious to Aesop that the girl would be alright. 

She was a tough one.

Why he kept on inviting her for their little talks after that, he didn’t know. At least, he wouldn’t admit it to himself. The truth was, he grew rather… accustomed to the girl. While there was an air of youth around her, she was incredibly mature for her years - the potions master didn’t know whether that was due to her upbringing, or the events of her fifth year - and could easily hold any sort of conversational topic he threw at her, her sentences measured and thoughtful. She was able to perceive a lot of things with grace many adults dreamed of possessing, yet she was always honest and genuine about what she said.

The more they met up, the more he could see her relax around him, and the professor had to admit that he felt more calm and content in her presence as well. It caught him off guard the first time he (accidentally) made her laugh; he just finished with some highly ironic, long-suffering monologue about students’ behaviour in his classroom, and the respect they seem to (not) have for the space, when the sound of her laughter cut through the air. 

He blinked in surprise, genuinely not having expected the reaction. Which is not to say he didn’t highly enjoy it. He felt the corner of his lips curl up as he watched her. The Ravenclaw's eyes were closed, her head tipped slightly back, her hand clasped over her chest. Her laughter was completely unadulterated, strangely melodic, and quite addictive. Aesop waited for her to finish before speaking, a sort of mischievousness and cheek he thought he lost long ago colouring his own voice.

“I’m glad you find my utmost misery amusing, Miss (L/N).”

“Oh, Sir!”

—

Aesop hated having someone go through his things. 

His workspace was always almost pristine, well organised, no unnecessary clutter. After all, potions were a tricky and potentially dangerous subject, and one errant sneeze could prove disastrous, so he required his students to always keep their potions stations clean and well organised, and practised as he preached. When it came to his living space, though… he was not nearly as meticulous.

He might as well be honest with himself - his rooms were quite the mess. Despite staying at Hogwarts for ten months at a time, he pretty much lived out of his trunk, and only stored his clothes inside the wardrobe after the house elves washed them. He also kept leaving his clothes out for them to wash always inside of his sitting room as opposed to his bedroom, and he had explicitly told them not to clean that chamber.

Aesop knew he was being rather ridiculous, the Hogwarts house elves probably saw rooms much, much messier than his in their lifetimes, not to mention they most likely witnessed even worse kinds of messes. However, the professor was simply uncomfortable knowing there was somebody going through his things. His rooms were cleaned over the summer, then left alone once more, when he moved back in at the end of the summer. He kept telling himself he was going to tidy up himself, but then every time he actually arrived at his chambers, he was just so utterly exhausted, all plans about tidying up went out of the window. 

Now, though, he really needed to get on with it. He invited the young Ravenclaw to his room in a moment of madness. Except, it did make some semblance of sense - after all, Faculty tower and Ravenclaw tower were quite close to each other, separated by a single flight of stairs in the Grand staircase, and seeing as they usually spoke late into the evening, it was simply more convenient for the girl to be close to her common room, and for Aesop to not have to go anywhere 

His stomach tensed as he observed the state of his rooms, prepared himself to do something he’s not done in the decade he’s worked here.

“Um…Deek?”

Not five seconds later, there was an audible pop as the older house elf appeared before Aesop’s eyes. 

Matilda always praised her old elf friend, and Deek himself insisted he was available to anyone who may need him. Aesop asked for his aid in other matters before, and was fairly fond of the elf. He could almost say he trusted him the most out of all the house elves.

“Good afternoon, professor Sharp,” Deek greeted with a smile on his face, “how may Deek assist today?”

Aesop swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to be taking you away from your other responsibilities, Deek, but I wanted to ask if… if you’d be so kind and tidy up my chambers for me.” 

Deek beamed up at him, his wrinkly face twisting into a look of utmost elation, one Aesop couldn’t understand. He never saw anyone so happy at the idea of cleaning. “But of course, sir! Deek will gladly clean professor Sharp’s rooms. Is… is Deek allowed to clean the bedchamber as well?” Aesop sighed once more: “Yes… it’s especially the bedroom that needs cleaning. I’m sorry to be bothering you with this Deek, I know I could’ve chosen absolutely any house elf and not take you away from your other work.”

“Oh, absolutely not, sir! Professor Sharp could’ve chosen any other house elf, yet he chose Deek. Deek finds it an honour. The professor needn’t worry, Deek shall leave his chambers spick and span!”

And with that, Aesop nodded and excused himself. He did trust Deek, and he knew the house elf would do a good job and not judge him for the mess his rooms were, but he still needed something to occupy himself with while he waited.

Dinah Hecat was surprised to see him in front of her door. “Hello, Dinah. Have I ever told you that your room is absolutely the worst?” Aesop grit his teeth, as his hand absentmindedly went to his bad leg, very sore after climbing the several flights of stairs in order to get to Dinah’s chambers above the Trophy room. Even with the usage of Floo flames, it was still quite the climb.

“Not in the past week, no. Come on in, Aesop, I just made tea.”

—

Once Aesop entered his rooms later that afternoon, he almost felt like he accidentally broke into someone else’s chambers. Which was a ridiculous exaggeration, of course, but he still felt like the space was brand new, even cleaner than it was after the summer. Deek wasn’t lying when he promised he’d leave the place ‘spick and span’. Even stains that seemed to never go away were nowhere to be found. Upon the large chest in his sitting room was a letter, positioned so he’d see it immediately. He hobbled over to the chest, grabbed the parchment and turned around to half lean against, half sit on the chest.

Professor Sharp,

Deek took the liberty to also wash all items of used clothing. Professor Sharp shall find all of his clothes ironed and folded within his wardrobe. Deek also implores that Professor Sharp never hesitates to turn to Deek for any help he may require. Deek is happy to be of service.

Respectfully, 

Deek

That house elf was a treasure, Aesop thought, as he neatly folded the letter again and made his way to the bedroom. If he thought the difference was dramatic in the sitting room, he almost had to scrape his jaw off the ground when he entered the room. Like night and day. The bedchamber was spotless. The sheets and blankets were as vibrant in colour as the day he first bought them, and they made a light soapy smell linger in the dim room pleasantly. His chairs and floor were barren of all items of clothing, and Aesop could see his trunks have clearly been emptied of their contents and moved to the corner of the room. 

Fires were burning in the hearths, and it gave the rooms a genuinely cosy atmosphere. Aesop couldn’t help but breathe a content little sigh. He should’ve done this a long time ago. Being in the clean space actually improved his already pretty okay mood, and he couldn’t wait to welcome his favourite student to the comfort of his now very comfortable chambers and share a cup of tea here, as opposed to the damp coldness of the dungeons. 

The evening couldn't come soon enough.

—

Aesop felt just slightly self conscious as he did finally welcome her. She was looking around the room curiously, taking in all the little details, all the little knick-knacks he collected over the years. “You have very lovely chambers, sir,” she said softly then. “Except maybe for that hand sticking out of the box. That is a little creepy,” she added with a chuckle, and Aesop cringed. Why did he still keep that? Yes, it was a memento from one of his first cases as a full-blown Auror, but it was still a severed, mummified hand sticking out of a box.

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t know why exactly he felt the need to apologise. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable… What if just being alone with him in his private rooms made her uncomfortable? He asked himself then, a twinge of panic coursing through him. To his surprise, the girl chuckled again. She held his gaze, looking completely at ease, even crossing her leg over the other and leaning further against the backrest of the armchair he set out for her in his sitting room.

“It’s alright sir,” she chirped, “I think we both know it takes a lot more than a disembodied hand to scare me.” 

There was a certain undertone in her voice he didn’t exactly like. It was the testament of the horrors she faced last year, things no fifteen/sixteen year old should face. Things nobody should ever face. In an attempt to distract her, he shifted his attention to the canvas bag that was lying by her feet. Of course the girl once again brought some ingredients with her, and while Aesop was grateful, he also had to admit he was running out of space for them. He didn’t want the Ravenclaw to feel bad by rejecting her little presents, though, so he asked with a smile:

“Are those more potion ingredients?” The young woman nodded at him, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. Aesop chuckled: “Good heavens, lass! Soon enough I won’t have enough space in the classroom to teach you lot, because it’ll be filled with a lifetime supply of Acromantula venom and unicorn hair! Why don’t you bring something sweet we can nibble on instead next time, hm?”

It would appear she had as much of a sweet tooth as he, for the next time she came around, there were several slices of treacle tart in that bag of hers.

—

Aesop Sharp hadn’t shown anyone his work in…a very long time. Not even Dinah. No, he closed himself off absolutely when he drew. For some reason however, he wanted the Ravenclaw to see. She let him see so much of her in those times they met, he supposed it was only fair she saw this side of him as well. He was ridiculously giddy about the decision. Seeing her eyes light up, as she fascinatedly observed and commented on each and every one of his drawings, not to mention the paintings of various beasts upon the walls, made a no small amount of pride bubble within his chest.

And later that night, when he lay sleeping in bed, he saw her sitting in front of the fireplace that transformed into the doorway to his atelier. She was snuggled up in the armchair, legs crossed, a cup of tea in her hand as she looked pensively into the flames. Looking down, Aesop realised his fingers were blackened from coal, because he was in the middle of creating her copy on the parchment.

—

The young woman made climbing entire flights of stairs actually quite worth it, thought Aesop as he stroked the Thestral mare’s neck. It was smooth and warm under his fingertips. 

Aesop was fond of Thestrals. He’d occasionally go and see them in the stables when his leg was feeling up to the task, but this was somehow different. These weren’t Thestrals from the Hogwarts herd, these were actual wild Thestrals from the Highlands, perhaps even the Forbidden forest! How on earth did this girl manage to bring them here? How did she make them this friendly and tame? What even was this place, and how did he not know about it in all of the years he spent inside the castle?

All these thoughts running through his head were put on hold when she began talking.

They had a number of things in common, and it would seem their opinions on Thestrals would be another. When she finished speaking, Aesop couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, holding her small hand in his own. “There is no without,” he said. “They may not be around to talk to us, but as long as we remember them fondly, as long as we still let them guide us, they will never be really gone.” These were the words his mother said to him when his father, her husband, died. 

They comforted him then, and he hoped it would be comfort they’d bring to (F/N)(L/N) too.

After their tea, she showed him around the so-called Room of Requirement. Aesop was amazed when he found there were even more potions stations in another room down the stairs, five, six, no, eight more, in fact! Figures the girl was at the top of his class, she obviously brewed a lot, and the ingredients she grew herself were looking much better than he’d ever manage to grow on his own. 

Just as there were working areas within the large chambers, there were leisure spots as well. Sofas and armchairs, plenty of blankets, rugs, and various decorations. He saw a few game tables, many of which had a little stack of pillows upon one of the chairs next to them. It felt … homely. A safe, comfortable space, where the young Ravenclaw was able to hone her skills in peace, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Had there not been so many stairs to get into this room, Aesop would’ve almost asked whether she’d share it with him. 

But, no. This was her own space. He was just glad that she allowed him to see it. 

It did feel a little strange, though. Out of all the people she could’ve told about this room, out of all of her friends, she chose him to aid in carrying this amazing secret. It made him feel oddly special. Made a strange warm feeling flow around in his stomach, made his heartbeat increase ever so slightly. And when she gave him a bright, conspiratorial grin, the potions master was sure his heart skipped a beat. And just like that, a new emotion spread within him, one that he didn’t quite recognise just yet, but it was absolutely there, and it made him shiver.

—

Aesop didn’t know why he didn’t let go of her hand while they sipped on their tea. Maybe it was just a natural instinct, maybe it was the comfort it seemed to bring her. The comfort it brought him. His thumb stroked along the back of her hand, the skin there soft and delicate. And when she turned her hand, and their palms connected, it felt like a small sizzle of electricity.

The potions master swallowed heavily. The simple touch of her hand on his made that new emotion flutter through him again. “I thought about what you said,” he spoke softly, his voice lacking its usual gruff and acuteness. The young woman only tilted her head slightly, signalling her full attention to him.”Death, while not intentionally cruel, is still a scary concept. I saw plenty of it. And the Thestrals… they used to make me nervous. But then… then my partner died. And later I came here. And one of the Hogwarts Thestrals, the ones that pull the carriages, approached me on the grounds. It was the first time the beast didn’t make my hair stand on end.

“It nudged its face against my hand, wanted me to pet it. So I did. I think they… they are exactly what a person needs to see…” Aesop felt his eyes getting warmer and damper, but knew he wouldn’t cry. He felt her hand close tighter around his own, and squeezed hers in return. The potions master looked around the room they were sitting in, bathed in soft blue light, its atmosphere that of absolute peace. The two of them stayed in the still and quiet, hands connected between their armrests.

Upon waking up, Aesop thought about the dream for a while. He was still of the opinion that these dreams of his… that they were just the reverberations of his waking mind, but something about them just made him feel strangely on edge. They were just too… lifelike. They felt so real, that his mind was in a state of confusion for several minutes after he woke up, wondering where did the girl go.

Nevertheless, he was in the end quite glad that it were quiet talks in a magical room that he dreamed about, as opposed to cold nights in Scarborough harbour.

—

If anyone told Aesop a week ago that he was going to touch a Graphorn that was kept by a sixth year student within the school walls, he would’ve probably called them insane, and requested their immediate visit of the hospital wing, so that Nurse Blainey could check them for head trauma. Now, however, as the potion master stood still like a statue with his hand outstretched while the huge beast sniffed at it, he was very much sweating bullets. Only when he was absolutely sure the creature wouldn’t attempt to bite his arm off and then some, did he actually reach a little further to touch its snout. It was cool and hard to the touch, and the graphorn’s immense power could be felt in a single exhale  of its damp breath. Soon enough, Aesop took his hand away once more and stepped back, more than wary of the beast that could maul both him and (F/N) to death within mere seconds if it so wished.

He watched in shock as the young Ravenclaw approached it without a hint of fear and stroked the tentacle-like appendages by its mouth, before letting her hands travel up its razor sharp looking tusks and petting the tough hide there, like this elephant sized apex predator was nothing but a mere house cat.

How?

The Ravenclaw told him about the trials - she mentioned them before, but only ever described them as ‘challenges to prove she was worthy of handling her ancient magic abilities, as well keeping the Keepers’ secret safe’. Never before it occurred to Aesop that they could be something as suicidal as subduing a Graphorn! 

So she told him more, this time in those seats they sat in previously, which Aesop was grateful for. Not only because it meant he (probably) didn’t need to constantly watch out for a Graphorn intent on tearing him to pieces 

(“He wouldn’t tear you into pieces, sir, he’s actually a very sweet fellow” - “a very SWEET FELLOW?!”),

but also because he absolutely needed to be sitting down for some of the stories she told him.

Suffice to say, the potions master didn’t know whether to feel impressed, angry, or absolutely terrified, and by the time she finished talking, he wondered whether the Keepers’ portraits in that ‘Map Chamber’ were fire resistant. 

“You… you do realise you’re lucky you didn’t die, right?” he asked, his voice quiet. (F/N) was a clever young woman, why would she agree to undergo such decidedly suicidal tasks voluntarily? Just to protect the wizarding world? Because she believed it to be her fate? Or maybe she didn’t know just how dangerous it truly would be? Whatever the reason was, it made Aesop genuinely surprised that not only was she alive, but she appeared as healthy as ever.

The look she gave him then was one of understanding, as if she was a Legilimens reading his exact thoughts. “I do,” she said simply, “I took a lot of risks. And I honestly think it was a stupid amount of luck rather than skill that kept me alive.” The next sentence she didn’t say. She didn’t need to, Aesop heard it clear as day; ‘If the need arose, I would do it again.’ 

And yes, Aesop reckoned she would. If it meant saving even just one innocent life, (F/N) (L/N) would take on whatever came her way, were it mongrels, trolls, inferi or graphorns. Aesop wanted to scoff and say something about ‘Gryffindor qualities’. However, he knew that would make him an absolute hypocrite, because was she to ask for his help, Aesop knew he would hobble over, wand drawn and gladly fight by her side. On the other hand, though, after everything she’s been through, one thing he wanted most of all was for her to never have to fight again…

It took him somewhat by surprise. That is, how close he’s grown to the young woman over the course of a year and a bit. He wondered if he would care this much was she anyone else, if the person to have gone through what she went through was somebody else. It was his duty to protect all of his students, but this one… this one was special. She was somehow… a little more important to him than the rest, even than the members of his own house. The thought itself was almost… frightening.

Therefore, Aesop cleared his throat. “Do you think… Do you think you could show me some of your magic? How you use it in combat, that is.” 

The Ravenclaw, who was apparently as lost in her own head as he was before he spoke blinked quickly. “Sorry, sir?” she asked, clearly not having heard a word he said. “I asked whether you could show me the use of your ancient magic in combat.” he repeated patiently. “Oh!” her eyes widened in realisation, “um… not against you, though, right?” An unexpected chuckle broke from Aesop’s mouth, quickly followed by another: “Merlin, no. I’d very much like to leave here in one piece, thank you very much. I meant some training dummies. Surely you must have at least one around here, don’t you?” “Well, I-”

Before (F/N) finished her sentence, the entire room began shaking. Aesop quickly grabbed his armrests and looked around the room with a slightly panicked expression. “Sir, look!” said the girl excitedly then, seemingly unbothered about the impromptu earthquake. The potions master followed her gaze to the little alcove on the right side of the room, between two staircases. The statue that stood there began sinking into the ground and a corridor started forming in its place. From his position, Aesop could see a staircase materialising, and then not much else.

The young woman jumped up and, even as the room was still shaking, started running towards the source, disappearing soon from his sight. “Miss (L/N)-” Aesop called and reached for her in vain. The tremors stopped barely fifteen seconds later. 

“Merlin’s beard!” the girl called out in awe. The sound of rapid footfalls followed, until she once more appeared in his field of view, a large grin on her face. “Sir, you’ve got to see this,” she said and offered her hand to him where he was still sitting in one of the armchairs. Reluctantly, the teacher took her hand and let himself be pulled up. Since she didn’t let go once he was securely on his feet once more, Aesop took it as an invite to lean a bit of his weight against her as she led him to a room that wasn’t there two minutes ago.

When they descended the small flight of stairs, Aesop’s eyes widened. They entered a large room with a tall ceiling, barren of almost any furniture. Instead, in a neat row stood 5 training dummies, ready to be practised on. The room was large enough for a proper wizarding duel, and there were even some props in one corner Aesop presumed were to be used as things behind which one would be able to duck and cover. 

“This place is spectacular,” Aesop said with no small amount of wonder in his voice, before looking at the Ravenclaw. She was still holding onto his arm, bracing him so that he wouldn’t put too much weight on his bad leg, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her. And when she turned her head towards him, he realised just how close they were. He felt a bit of colour rush into his cheeks as he cleared his throat and slowly stepped away, immediately feeling a little colder.

“Well, Miss (L/N)... whenever you’re ready.”

The young woman smiled and nodded at him, before taking off her cloak, leaving herself in a white shirt with tie and a pair of dark bloomers. She then stood facing the training dummies and drew her wand.

Aesop was in for quite the show.

Gooseflesh appeared on his arms as he literally felt the air ripple with magic, bright blue light appearing at the tip of (F/N)'s wand. The first training dummy was lifted off the ground and promptly thrown back again, then again, then again. It broke upon the last impact, splinters flying in all directions. The next dummy was hit with a different sort of spell - it was dragged towards the girl, shrinking as it went until it was the size of nothing more than a mouse, at which point the Ravenclaw lifted her foot and stomped down on it. Third dummy exploded into nothing but fine dust. 

And then, in a display more spectacular than Aesop ever saw in his entire life, he watched the young woman lift her wand high into the air and felt the way she gathered up the magic in the air all around them inside of her wand, before bringing it down upon the figurine in like a lightning bolt, so bright he had to shield his eyes. The sound it made upon making contact with its target was cathartic, a loud thunder like bang as not only the target, but also the last training dummy next to it exploded, more splinters flying around.

When the dust settled, the potions master looked at her in awe. The girl was incredible. She stood still with her wand drawn, her hair messed up slightly, a drop of sweat appearing at her hairline. Aesop felt his heart flutter.

She was beautiful.

Aesop stood there, breathing deeply, absolutely caught off guard by the display of her power. She hadn't uttered a single incantation. The power this girl held at her fingertips was both terrific and terrifying, and yet Aesop didn't feel worried… If anyone was meant to wield such power, he honestly couldn't imagine a better person for the job. 

And when she turned around to face him, her face bearing a beaming smile, his heart fluttered again and Aesop found himself grinning back at her. When she walked back to him, Aesop's hand lifted as if on its own accord and he brushed a stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear before he realised what he was doing and promptly took his hand away.

He cleared his throat.

"Well… that was quite the display, Miss (L/N). Thank you for showing me. With such prowess, it's no wonder you were able to defend yourself as you have."

The young woman smiled at him, and Aesop could see a speck of colour rushing into her cheeks. "Well. I cannot use it all the time, it takes a while for it to accumulate. I mostly use the spells you and the other professors taught me."

"Oh? In that case, perhaps I actually would be willing to engage in a friendly duel. As long as you promise not to turn me into dust, that is."

The grin that appeared on her face then sent a wave of giddiness through him, one Aesop didn't feel in quite a long time, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I promise, sir."

—

They had themselves a little sparring session, adrenaline running through his veins as he dodged and blocked the spells sent his way, as he sent his own in return. She’s not mastered her nonverbal magic as of yet, which played into his cards, but it was almost no use to him as the young woman was quick on her feet, and for every non-verbal incantations he threw at her, she managed to send three back at him. He felt alive like he had not in years - he’d occasionally spar with Dinah or Abraham, but them being already masters in their fields, not to mention having known and duelled with them for years, the potions master could hold his own (though he knew if she wanted, Dinah could still very easily kick his sorry arse). 

When it came to this young Ravenclaw however, her moderate newness to the art of duelling actually made her more dangerous, as she was unpredictable, Aesop didn’t know what to expect from her. He was able to prepare himself for a few spells, as he saw the beginning of her wand movements, but it was still quite the thrill. Was his focus to waver for a single second, the professor could very easily have both his body and his pride severely wounded. He felt himself grinning throughout their entire little duel.

He did win in the end. She moved her arm a little too ardently for her Confringo (and who on earth taught her that spell) and it cost her the precious time she needed to counter his Levioso. Aesop walked over the young woman suspended in the air with an expression that was slightly verging on smug. To his surprise, the girl was smiling back at him joyfully. 

“I must say, Miss (L/N)... that was rather impressive. Had you not said that Glacius some minutes ago out loud, you’d still be thawing me right now. Do tell, where did you learn the Blasting curse?” 

“A friend taught me…”

“I see… It’s not exactly a curriculum approved spell. Though, seeing that you’ve most likely used it only in your defence, as I haven’t heard any rumours concerning a Ravenclaw blasting her classmates through the corridors, I won’t make you tell me who it was.”

“I appreciate it, sir.”

“I will, however,” Aesop cast a non-verbal Finite on the young woman, who was quickly lowered back onto her two feet, “guide your hand in casting the spell. Movements this wild could easily result in the loss of your eyebrows, and I rather think that would not exactly go with the otherwise aesthetic qualities of your face.”

Where did that come from? Aesop was glad the young woman was currently brushing at her clothes and was not looking at him, because otherwise she’d see the bit of blood rushing into his cheeks. Did he just compliment her looks?

“Thank you, professor Sharp. I’d like that very much.”

—

At night that scene played out in his head once more, and he saw himself behind her, holding onto her dominant hand with his own, guiding her wrist through the air as she sent a blasting curse after blasting curse on more training dummies the Room was ever so helpful to provide.

“Keep your hand away from your body, you don’t want to set yourself aflame, but don’t swing it so much either. Your arm stays stationary while your wrist moves,” he instructed, stepping closer behind her to grip her wrist tighter and keep her arm from flailing. Her back was mere inches from his chest, and yet he felt her warmth seep through both her and his clothes, felt her presence as well as her magic in front of him, he felt it thrum through her veins underneath his fingers on her pulse point. It was nearly intoxicating. 

The next Confringo she cast was nearly flawless, and in turn powerful - the recoil made the young woman stumble back somewhat, right into his torso, and his free hand instinctively came to steady her by grabbing onto her left shoulder.

At least that’s what Aesop remembered happening several hours ago.

Now, however, his hand went to grip at her hip instead, and unlike before, he didn’t let go of her immediately after he was sure she wouldn’t fall. No, he felt her warm flesh in his hand, as real as could be, felt the curve of her back under his sternum, her bottom against his thighs. 

What’s going on? He asked himself even as he heard ‘Well done, (F/N)’ leave his own lips. The young woman turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with the light of the various torches along the walls. Aesop released her wrist in order to trace his calloused forefinger from her cheekbone down her jaw, until he reached her chin. He lifted it up ever so slightly, his own face moving closer, so close he felt her warm breath on his lips, which he unconsciously licked. 

However, just as (F/N) closed her eyes and leaned her head to the side, Aesop’s eyes opened. He could feel sweat upon his brow as he stared up into the ceiling of his bedroom.

What in the name of Merlin’s holey underpants?

Has he… has he really just woken up from a dream in which he (nearly) kissed his student? Well, technically, she was the one to lean forward, but it was his dream. He held the young woman by her hip, kept her pressed against his body. What was going on with him, surely he wasn’t attracted to his student who only just came of age a few weeks ago! No, no, that couldn’t be. He just spent a lot of time with her, the potions master reasoned, he spent more time with her than with any other student and that was it. He was fond of her and he saw her often, and his mind was just terribly tired and made up nonsensical dreams, little tidbits of newest memories coupled with his brain sorting through itself.

That was it. Surely, that must be it.

It was perfectly normal, completely natural. His relationship with the young Ravenclaw was platonic and that’s how it was going to stay, his dreams had absolutely no meaning.

Only once Aesop nodded to himself and closed his eyes again, only once he felt the pull of sleep upon his consciousness once more, did two simple thoughts fly through his mind.

Why did he remember the dreams?

And why was his heart beating like mad when he thought back on them?

—

Aesop never spent too much time picking out Christmas presents. He didn’t need to, as there were only a handful of people for whom he bought something, and he preferred to keep it simple. A bottle of something good and strong for Abraham, coupled with some confectionery from Honeydukes, or perhaps a trick from Zonko’s. A good book and a fine scarf for Dinah to battle the cold nights in the castle. And last but not least, some good French wine for his mother as well as the perfume she always wore. That was Christmas shopping for Aesop. Quick and simple. And then, as he hobbled down the street of Hogsmeade on his way to the Three Broomsticks for maybe a quick bite, but really for a stiff drink, he saw it. Behind the window of Tomes and Scrolls, a leather-bound journal. Which wouldn’t be all that spectacular, had the journal not have had a very beautiful thestral engraved into its cover. 

Aesop instantly thought of his student.

He stared at the beautiful journal for several minutes, lost in thought. It would be a lovely present, thoughtful and genuine, but… Would it be appropriate? Would she even like it? What if it made her uncomfortable? After a while during which he tapped at the ground with his cane contemplatively, he entered the shop. 

Aesop reappeared on the streets of Hogsmeade less than five minutes later, journal in hand. The thestral stood out beautifully against the dark, shiny leather - as did the young Ravenclaw’s full name on the other side where he had it added.

The mulled mead and roasted turkey he had in Sirona’s pub obviously did him some good, as the pain in his leg was feeling more annoying than unbearable, and once he arrived back at the Faculty tower by Floo and made his way to his chambers, sitting down at his desk, it was merely a thrum somewhere under his skin. He checked what he bought with his short list, and contentedly checked everything off. As he slowly unpacked everything he bought that day, the journal caught his eye once more.

Aesop laid it upon his desk and opened it, running his fingers over the paper. It was of good quality, ink would neither blot on or seep through the pages. He didn’t even know if the young woman wrote a diary (he sure didn’t), but it was still a nice journal nonetheless, one that could be used for anything. It occurred to him that he should perhaps leave an inscription - some sort of short message, or a useful piece of advice. 

However, as he dipped his quill (made from the Phoenix feather she brought him) into ink and brought it down upon the first page of the journal, he found he… didn’t quite know just what he should write. 

“Shortcuts only ever lead to shortcomings,” felt too impersonal after everything that happened between the two of them. And whatever friendlier, more personal message he could write made him slightly cringe inside.The potions master sighed deeply, resting his head on his face. In his movement, he accidentally touched the tip of his quill over the page, making a small lone line. Damn it.

Well, he will be removing this page anyway, he might as well try if that paper truly was as good as it seemed.

And so Aesop made another line. And then another. And before he knew it, the lines began forming an image. An image of a bench in the Transfiguration courtyard, the one hidden in the shadow of the alcove by the water.

(F/N) loved to study there. She told him so herself, but he also recalled seeing the Ravenclaw there on his way to the staff room several times, tucked away in the corner, reading a book, watching the birds, occasionally observing whatever was going on in the courtyard itself. 

Aesop kept on scribbling, now fully immersed in both his creation, and his thoughts, and once he was absolutely certain there was no detail left for him to draw and pinpoint, no mistake he’d need to correct, he looked at his work. It was one of his better ones, at least in his opinion. He couldn’t wish for more, he supposed, not when he was drawing from memory. His long digits dragged over the paper, able to feel where the sharp tip of his quill dipped into the paper, leaving behind scratches and creases. His fingers were clean when he pulled them back and the drawing was unharmed as well.

As a last test, Aesop turned the page. The other side of it was as blank as could be, completely intact, uncreased, bearing absolutely no sign of his work. The professor actually allowed himself a content little grin. This was good paper.

Just as he prepared to separate the page from the journal however, Aesop looked upon his sketch once more. He could either spend another hour thinking up possible inscriptions before finally settling on something dry and boring, or… Or he could leave his drawing there in its place. No words, just this. For some reason, the potions master thought it spoke more than any words could.

—

Aesop took lungfuls of cool air, getting high on the feeling of sitting on a hippogriff's back and gliding through the cool night. His limbs were growing a little numb from the cold, and yet he held on, his arms wrapped around (F/N) (L/N)'s torso.

The potions master found himself resting his chin on her shoulder as he amazedly took in the beauty of Scottish highlands all wrapped up in the gentle darkness of the spring night.

When the mighty beast began descending to the lush grass of the Flying lawn once more, Aesop felt several emotions at once. He was a little glad to be rid of the wind nipping at his nose and ears, but that was overshadowed by a strange feeling of loss. He was greatly enjoying the flight, the thrill of it. Most of all though, he hated the idea that once they came to a stop, he'd have to release the girl from his hold and bid her goodnight. 

So when the inevitable came, he stole a few more moments, just a short couple of seconds during which he held her as tightly as if he would still fall hundreds of feet down was he to let go. And amazingly, the girl seemed to be in no rush to get off the hippogriff either. Finally he let her go and let her climb down, gladly accepting her help when it was time for him to do the same. He sent her off to her dormitory, knowing that was he to spend more time in her intoxicating presence under the heavy cloak of darkness he might… might do what exactly?

He was entirely not ready for her to squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his scarred cheek.

And when she did so, Aesop did not let go of her hand. No, he pulled her closer and captured her in a tight embrace. She didn't fight him at all, in fact, her arms immediately went to close around his waist, and her face pressed into the lapel of his overcoat. She's grown taller since he first met her, but he still towered over her. His nose buried in her hair, breathing in her shampoo, as the fingers of one of his hands tangled into the soft locks.

The potions master heard himself breathe heavily as he pressed the young woman into his chest, hyper aware of how absolutely he surrounded her smaller form, how warm she felt in his arms. 

He was grateful to her. She helped him forget the world, at least for a little while. Understanding. Accepting.

When he finally let her go, the Ravenclaw was smiling at him: “Are you quite certain you don’t want me to walk you to your rooms, sir?” Aesop wasn’t quite certain about nearly everything at the moment, everything except one thing: “Let us go then.” And just as she moved to his side with another smile, holding onto his arm and letting him lean against her, Aesop shivered, the cold of the spring air jerking him awake. 

He blindly pulled his blanket, which had pooled around his waist and left his upper body bare, higher. Its weight and warmth instantly reminded him of the dream he just woke up from.

That was rather… curious. 

Now, Aesop Sharp didn’t hug his students. He remembered the few times over the years during which he perhaps clasped a hand on the shoulder of a future Auror whom he’d given his recommendation, and then there were the handshakes with graduated students, but he never came into physical contact with a student otherwise. Until now. 

As he pondered the matter at hand, still gripping onto his blanket, the light coming from his sitting room got brighter and warmer. Aesop didn’t really think about all the touches he and the Ravenclaw shared over the previous year. All of them simply felt so… natural, from the first time he embraced her that cold night on the Astronomy tower, all the way to the time he guided her hand to cast the perfect Confringo.

Should it feel this natural? They were friends after all, as strange as that was too. Aesop was fond of the girl, and he doubted she’d seek his company as he seeked hers if she wasn’t fond of him as well. Maybe it was natural - after all, he shared amicable touches with Dinah as well, not to mention Abraham’s fondness of always having a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and back. 

It’s alright, Aesop decided. 

It was fine, they were friends, neither of them was uncomfortable, both enjoyed the closeness. 

The fact that it felt entirely different to have (F/N) touch him, he buried deep within the ground, and the subconscious feeling that Aesop knew exactly how different he felt, he buried even deeper.

—

“You’ve been spending quite a lot of time with that special Eagle of mine, Aesop,” said Dinah one time as she poured a generous amount of Firewhisky into two tumblers. The two teachers were sitting in her sizable chambers, both poring over stacks of essays to grade, sharing the ridiculous things some students wrote on their parchments, and occasionally discussing if certain parts deserve additional points. It was probably the most fun a Hogwarts professor could have on a Friday night without taking their clothes off. 

Well, not really. But it was absolutely more entertaining than grading essays by himself.

“Huh?” asked Aesop eloquently. He didn’t even know why exactly. He heard his friend perfectly. He could’ve easily answered something like ‘Yes, I’ve grown fond of her, I see her as my friend’, or maybe even ‘I’m just watching over her’, but the way his heart sped up when she stated her observation, and the way his chest closed up slightly made him choke on his words.

“Just that you invite her for tea quite often, you’ve never done so with a student. Are you preparing her for the Auror office?” “Heavens, no,” he replied, maybe way too quickly. Soon, the potions master cleared his throat. “I don’t… I don’t think she wants to be an Auror, Dinah. She could be one, certainly, she’s got the intellect and the skills, but I don’t think that’s the career path she’d want to take.” 

“Oh,” asked the DADA teacher, forgetting her work momentarily to peer at him curiously, her chin resting on her hand, “have you talked about career paths?” Aesop, swallowed, feeling like she could see right through him. What exactly she could see he didn’t know. “Among other things,” he sighed, “listen, I explained the situation in my letter, back in April. What she went through was nothing short of traumatising.” The woman gave him a short look of understanding, before pressing further: “She certainly seems to be doing much better than she was, no doubt thanks to your help as well. Your continuous help.”

“Maybe I have become appreciative of her company? She’s a rather pleasant conversation partner. And she doesn’t interrogate me, unlike some people,” Aesop replied, a little annoyance in his voice. That made Dinah grin widely: “Oh, I’m sorry Aesop,” she didn’t sound sorry at all, “I’m just curious, that’s all. No need for you to throw a hissy fit.” Aesop rolled his eyes.

“It is quite interesting, still. Young, pretty woman, and instead of breaking hearts, she spends a large part of her free time with her gruff potions professor. She must like you a lot.” Aesop didn’t even bother to answer, instead burying his nose further into his work. Positioned like this, he couldn’t see the tiniest hint of a smirk on professor Hecat’s face.

—

They were sitting on that frankly uncomfortable bench under the spiral stairwell to Ravenclaw tower again. It was different this time, however. The young lady was clearly a year older than she was when this actually happened. Seventeen, young and yet so mature. Her features were those of a woman. Her eyes were different too, instead of the grief filled wells he saw at this exact spot a year ago, they held the calmness of the Black lake, deep, dark, mysterious and alluring. And despite the fact it was obvious Aesop wasn’t currently in the middle of comforting her, his large hand still stayed on her back, drawing nonsensical patterns with his thumb.

“Why, sir?” she asked softly, her head leaning to the side with genuine curiosity. Aesop blinked in confusion: “Why what, (F/N)?” 

“Why do you still want me around?” 

Aesop knew he was dreaming, but he felt trapped in his body. It did everything on its own accord, moving, speaking… feeling. His free hand found hers on her own knee. “I… care about you. Is that not enough?” he heard himself say, his heart pounding. He had no control about what he said and did, merely an observant. The beautiful young woman leaned closer to him, her cheeks were pink, and there was a smile on her face, more radiant than any star Aesop’s ever seen. She squeezed his hand: “That’s everything, sir.”

Aesop rested his forehead against her own in a moment so intimate, it made his heart clench in his chest. Their breath mingled as they stared into each other’s eyes, the connection between them almost tangible. Aesop could feel the pulse in her wrist as he held onto her hand, could feel his own heart beating in the same rhythm. Within the little shared space between them, they weren’t a professor and his student, they weren’t a former Auror and a bearer of ancient magic. They were simply two kindred spirits, two bruised souls that were simply trying to keep up with the world around them while they healed. 

And when Aesop woke up, he did so with his chest constricted with emotion, and a deep sense of connection and belonging. He lay on his back in his bed, his hand over his heart as he breathed deeply. He began to grow quite worried about the rate in which the young Ravenclaw appeared inside of his dreams, not to mention their direction… 

There was no direction. There couldn’t be. Could it? 

— 

Aesop found himself looking forward to those evenings he would spend in the young woman’s company. Were they discussing matters of education, magic, and the wizarding society, or the more… personal topics. He simply felt comfortable with her, as comfortable as he rarely felt, even in the company of his two oldest friends. He told her of some of his cases - some dramatic, some terrifying, but also some positively humorous.

Like the one from his days as a very young Auror, straight out of training. An older man was hysterical because he believed he was being targeted by a dark wizard, who was an animagus taking on the appearance of a large, mean looking wolf, and was watching his house every single night menacingly. The 'victim' was so terrified, he hadn't left his home for days. As it turned out, the ‘dark wizard’ was a regular bloke whom the man cheated over in cards a week prior, but who held no grudge whatsoever, and the ‘terrifying, bloodthirsty beast’ was nothing more than a stray mutt that sat in front of the house because it could smell the man’s wife frying bacon every night. He couldn’t stop rolling his eyes back then, and his partner, well, she got herself a dog.

He couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat at the sound of her giggles when he told her this story, nor could he stop his eyes from falling down to focus on her lips, spread in a wide grin, white teeth sparkling in the low light of his sitting room. It was a spectacular moment, and he found himself thinking about it often. 

The potions master would also notice other things. 

Like the way she would clasp her hands together, neatly and elegantly, when speaking sometimes. The way she’d get comfortable in the chair she was sitting on, while still maintaining her decorum. How she lately began to toy with her hair, her nimble fingers running through it absentmindedly. The way her eyes blinked slowly at him, her eyelashes fanning against her cheeks, rosy as the fire in his hearth would warm her up. Occasionally, a single look into those brilliant eyes of hers would bring him a sense of peace, a calm before the storm almost, as nearly immediately he would feel emotions boil inside of him. 

Those he wouldn’t dare give a name to.

— 

It was almost the end of term when Aesop made the decision to climb the Astronomy tower yet again, and see for himself whether the young woman had been practising since their impromptu training session some half a year ago. Not to mention he wished to check up on the beasts she kept in those vivariums of hers (though, preferably, not the Graphorn one - he still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that). 

His leg was pretty cooperative that day, and by the time he finished his ascend, he was only in moderate pain, one that could easily be dulled by a vial of Wiggenweld potion, which he promptly pulled out of his coat pocket and drank in a single large gulp. He could see the door to the room clear as day, which most likely meant the Ravenclaw was already there and waiting for him. 

Aesop opened the door slowly and walked in. The first room appeared to be empty, only filled with the faint sounds of the various vivariums and the occasional flapping of books flying high above. It was so strange, he’s been to this room only a few times, and yet he always felt a sense of peace wash over him whenever he entered. Maybe it was the ambiance, which felt like a summer night spent under the stars, or the near silence itself, so very unlike the hustle and bustle of the castle, even during the evening hours.

“(F/N),” he called out.

“Down here, sir!” came from the large room to the left, the one that had all of her potion stations and planters, “I’ll be there in a jiffy, please, do sit down!”

Aesop didn’t sit down. He started walking toward the alcove, and proceeded down the stairs. Immediately, he spotted the young woman, standing by a simmering cauldron. He hobbled his way over to (F/N) and stopped right behind her, maybe a little bit closer than was appropriate. His nose instantly picked up the scent of her hair, sweet and sunkissed, as well as the potion she was just finishing up.

“Felix felicis? What on earth would you need that for?” Aesop asked, not sure whether to be suspicious of her reasons to brew such a potion, or amazed she appeared to have brewed a perfect batch all by herself. She didn’t appear to mind his close proximity behind her one bit, and actually even turned her head to grin up at him.

“I’d like to say it’s something particularly insane, like robbing Gringotts, befriending a manticore, or turning Headmaster Black into a toilet seat. The truth, however, is rather boring, to be honest.”

“Oh? How is that?”

“I want to ask my parents for a favour. That is, to let me go somewhere. I’ve only been allowed at Natty’s over last summer, but apparently, when her mum doesn’t have dozens of other students to worry about, she keeps quite a close eye on her, so, you know. No adventures.”

Aesop chuckled, seeing his breath fan the hair next to her ear slightly: “After everything, you still want an adventure?” He can see the young woman roll her eyes despite her having her back to him.

“I’m not saying I’m going to go to the Bermuda triangle and, I don’t know, battle whatever lurks there, I just don’t want to be stuck between four walls for the entire summer.” The potions master murmured under his breath in understanding. He still stood close behind her, an intrusive thought to touch her popping into his head unprompted and making his hand twitch. He ignored it.

“Gave any thought to where you’d like to go?”

“No. If this succeeds and my parents say yes, I’ll just spin the globe, close my eyes, and then travel anywhere my finger lands.”

“That does sound quite adventurous.”

—

What on earth was she still doing here? 

The young woman who took to occupying his dreams stood in the doorway of his classroom, dressed in a simple, muggle outfit consisting of a dark skirt that reached her ankles and accentuated the curve of her waist, a white blouse and a black cravat. It was very unusual to see her like this, as normally she only wore variations of the Ravenclaw uniform, and occasionally some combination of clothing items that she wore whenever she voyaged outside of the castle’s walls. 

She looked rather… She looked quite beautiful.

“Miss (L/N), perhaps you should make your way to the Hogsmeade station. You wouldn’t want to miss your train.”

“Oh, I’ll be there before you could say Tarantallegra, sir, but even if I didn’t, there are other ways to get to London. Apparition licence, remember?”

Aesop sighed, but could not hide the way the corner of his mouth twitched. “So,” he said softly, “what brings you here, when your classmates and friends are now all sitting in carriages to Hogsmeade, merrily chatting about their plans for the summer?

“Not all of them,” she replied, a little twinkle in her eyes that made him swallow unconsciously. “Just wanted to say goodbye and wish you a pleasant summer, sir, that’s all.”

Aesop walked to the closest potion station and leaned against it, putting his injured leg over the other and crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that so? And here I was, glad to be finally free of students for the following two months," Aesop offered her a small cheeky smile to let her know he was speaking in jest. "Do you have your liquid luck, Miss (L/N)?"

The Ravenclaw grinned and reached into a small leather bag that was hanging on her shoulder, soon pulling out a tiny vial with molten gold like liquid inside. Aesop pushed himself off the potions station to hobble over next to the girl, wordlessly taking the potion out of her hand to properly look at it. The colour and consistency looked good, and he knew the student standing in front of him was meticulous in her brewing, therefore he had no problems believing the potion would work as intended.

“I'd rather not ask how a sixth year student came upon Occamy eggs. Decent job, though, very decent. What about the rest of it?” He handed the vial back and the girl hid it again, patting her bag fondly. “It’s in the Room, individually bottled, ready if the need arises. You know how to access the room now, so if you ever find yourself needing a drop of good luck, feel free to take some, sir.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, miss, but I assure you that I am perfectly capable of brewing my own luck. What’s more, I think I needn't tell you that overusing such a powerful potion could have fatal consequences.” The potions master received a sincere smile in return: “You needn’t, sir, I would rather face the world equipped with my skills, experiences, and determination, rather than with just luck - a bit of fickle that.”

The two of them stood still for a few moments, the silence between them thick, but not really uncomfortable. Finally Aesop cleared his throat: “Well. While I clearly don’t have to wish you good luck in your pursuits of summer adventures, let me do so anyway. Good luck to you, and… please, stay safe.”

Another smile touched her face, this one positively radiant. “No need to worry, professor,” she said, her tone making shivers run down Aesop’s spine, ���you’ll have me back before you know it, and in one piece.” The Ravenclaw then offered her hand for a handshake, and he, for some reason, instead of shaking it raised it up and bent his neck at the same time. His lips made contact with the skin of her knuckles and Aesop closed his eyes momentarily, letting the courteous kiss linger.

He did not dare move, or even open his eyes, when the hand in his gentle hold turned to touch his face, delicate fingers ghosting over his scarred cheek. His breathing picked up as he felt each digit trace his skin, weathered by years as well as stress, featherlight touches caressing each and every little wrinkle and line. And when her thumb teased at the edge of his mouth, the potions master released a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding, his eyes fluttering slightly.

So slowly, she stroked over his lips, thin and slightly chapped, and so unbelievably sensitive at that exact moment, it was like her touch caused tiny sparkles to go off just under the surface. And then, when that maddening thumb of hers trailed higher and stroked at his moustache, Aesop finally opened his eyes. The potions master’s hand was still loosely closed around her wrist, and he found her face to be rather closer than it was before. Her eyes, both seductive and innocent, caused his mind to cloud over, and all of his sensibility just went out of the window. In less than a second, both of his hands seized the sides of her head and he pulled her closer still. His large nose bumped into her own, their intense gazes connecting. He could feel her hot damp breath on his mouth on, on his cheeks, she was so close he smelled her perfume, utterly intoxicating,

And then, finally, he pushed his mouth against hers. It was a kiss filled with raw passion, heady and scorching hot, one that made Aesop's toes curl inside of his boots. He wasted no time, pushing his tongue into her mouth, swallowing all of her little sounds like they were the sole thing saving him from starving to death. He bit at her lips and tongue, before engaging it in a heated dance, all the while still holding her face, keeping her right there for him to taste.

Once he ran out of breath, he pulled back to look at her and now… now she was more than just beautiful, she was breathtaking. Her lips were red and swollen, ravished by him, and glistening with his saliva. To his utter amazement, they stretched into a little smile.

He tried to kiss her again.

But she was gone. 

He wasn’t standing in his classroom, but lying in his own bed, in his home, miles away from Hogwarts castle. Sun was pouring into his room through the open window, and the fresh air had a sweet undertone to it. And once Aesop closed his eyes again, he swore he could still feel those plush lips against his own, he could still feel her taste upon his tongue. He surely would’ve been panicked by the dream and what it could mean, had its lingering sensations not began lulling him back to sleep.

And when he woke up again, hours later, all that remained was a faint memory, one he could easily ignore.

—

Aesop Sharp spent his summer like he usually did. The summers were nearly always the same, the only thing that ever changed was the weather. The same old routine, just like during the term.

Except no, not really.

Not for the past few years at least. Not since (F/N) (L/N) began attending school.

However, even now, as he sat on the bench near his father’s memorial, Aesop felt quite content to simply pretend it was just another boring, uneventful summer, because the truth lurking about in his subconsciousness simply felt way too terrifying to face. 

No, no… It was just another dull summer. He’d gather his strength, enjoy the luxury of absolute silence and lack of students, and absolutely not think about the taste of the young Ravenclaw’s lips. 

Aesop thought that not seeing her almost every day would lower the rate in which she kept visiting him in his dreams. However, no such thing happened. Some were as innocent as they used to be, just the two of them, all alone, caught in their perfect little bubble of comfort and understanding, but more often than not, his dream self would do something to shake this bubble, tilt it, rotate it until it turned into something else, something Aesop dared not name.

He could feel his psyche cracking ever so slightly, as part of him knew he was lying to himself. And it was this part that currently made his finger run along the edge of her jaw, slightly smudging the coal on the paper. Her letters made it worse. They were always perfectly friendly, professional even, and yet Aesop found his heart beating fast each time Diana the sooty owl flew in through his perpetually open window, descending upon his dining table gracefully. 

She’s been treating him fairly well since he learned to read the letters immediately after she delivered them. She even let him stroke her under her beak for a few seconds once before she pecked him and flew back outside to rest in the coolness of the trees until he was ready to answer. 

He read the letters and re-read them, and took his time formulating the perfect answer to whatever they were talking about at the time, potions, NEWT subjects, careers… Aesop enjoyed it the most, when she wrote to him about the way she spent her days. He liked to imagine her lying down on a blanket in her garden, maybe in some light summer dress, snacking on strawberries and reading through her seventh year transfiguration textbook. Or sitting in Hyde park, feeding the various waterfowl and sunning. Or going to the theatre, wearing some lovely formal dress that wrapped around her like a glove…

Aesop saw these images she described in her letters right in front of him, and found himself unable to resist summoning his sketchbook and coal.

He also drew on his letters to her. That hare he saw in his garden from the dining room window. The basket of tomatoes given to him by his elderly neighbour. The tree where his father started building him a house, but could never finish… And each time she commented on his drawings, always in awe and amazement, he felt a swell of pride roll through him.

Each time the dark owl hooted at him in greetings, his heart began making somersaults, and his lips spread wide as he read (F/N)’s message, and yet, at the same time, he felt on edge. 

His dreams were to blame for that. Every morning he woke up after yet another dream with the young lady as their main star, the first thing Aesop felt was a pang of regret. Regret that the way she looked at him in his dreams was not real. That the way her body fit against his as she leaned into him was not real, and neither was the image of him being the one to accompany her to one of those theatres, her delicate hand upon his forearm. Soon after that, guilt followed. 

And still, Aesop Sharp wouldn’t admit his own emotions to himself.

—

Some fortnight left until the start of term, he got Diana’s attention after he finished securing his letter to her leg: “I’m leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow. So, you know, bring (F/N)’s next letter there and not here.” Aesop could have sworn that the menace of an owl rolled her eyes and looked at him as if she was saying ‘What, do you think I’m stupid?’ before flying away. Aesop just stood there, looking at the swiftly disappearing owl indignantly. Cheeky bloody pigeon. 

Although, Aesop had to give it to the owl - despite all of her attitude, she was most likely the quickest and most reliable owl he’s ever seen.

—

The young Ravenclaw was sitting by the hearth in his chambers, like she always did, lounging about. He was sitting right across from her, his bad leg propped up on a footstool, just a few inches from her knee. Aesop immediately noticed she seemed rather lost in thought, her beautiful eyes fixed upon the flames. “A knut for your thoughts?” the potions master offered, his own lips curling at the corners somewhat.

He didn’t expect her to extend her hand and place it on his leg, right above his ankle. Despite the thick leather boots he wore, Aesop could feel the warmth and gentleness of her touch, and when she began rubbing her thumb in circular motions, he released an involuntary sigh.

“I was just thinking how this will be my last year in Hogwarts. It’s a little unfair that everyone got to spend seven years with you, and I only three,” she said quietly. Aesop exhaled shakily, still feeling her hand on his leg, and it seemed to be trailing slightly higher, climbing up his shin.

“You’re not…” he swallowed, “you’re not going to spend four more years here, but that doesn't mean… It doesn't mean you can't spend time with me." The girl gave him a cryptic look: "And you wouldn't mind? You wouldn't mind still seeing me around, even though I'll not be your student?"

Aesop didn't notice that he opened his mouth and took a deep breath, still way too focused on her hand, now on his knee. 

"No, not in the slightest… I want you around," he said simply, the words feeling rather underwhelming as opposed to the storm of emotions raging within his core. And yet, he looked into her eyes, both sincere and incredibly enigmatic. His hand covered hers on his leg, and he linked their fingers together. 

The potions master was lost in thought all throughout breakfast at the Great hall, much to Dinah's intrigue. He told her his leg was acting up, and, as usual, she didn't believe his lie, but didn't ask any further questions. The large room was disturbingly quiet without the students, so quiet that he heard Mudiwa accidentally scrape her fork against her plate, all the way on the other side of the High table.

Matilda and Abraham were caught in a quiet conversation, which too sounded loud and clear within the empty hall.

"Should not take terribly long this year, between you and Mirabel, you should be done within two or three days."

"And then you shall send out the acceptance letters and lists, correct?"

"Yes. Decided to get the Muggleborns some extra time before Diagon Alley streets get too crowded, so as not to overwhelm them."

Ah, yes. In two or three days, the magical street in London will be busier than ever, packed with parents and students shopping for robes, quills, cauldrons, books and everything the young ones may need in Hogwarts - how come so many always turned up lacking these essential supplies was a mystery to Aesop.

Two or three days. In two or three days, (F/N) will also walk that street in preparation for her final year. The thought made his chest tighten, and he remembered his dream once more. He doubted that she would actually want to spend time with him after she's left. Would she? She already spent so much of her free time with him, why would it be so outlandish to hope that she'd still want his company then. 

Maybe he could write to her, meet her in Diagon alley, maybe he'd be able to speak more freely outside the castle's grounds. 

No. No, no. He was not going to meet her there. He knew he wouldn't be able to speak more freely even there, so why bother dragging himself and his lame leg all the way to London? He'd see her soon enough anyway, there really was no need for him to impose upon her during her last few free days of the summer break. He'd stay in the castle, get everything in order for the start of term, and watch for her arrival into the Great hall, along with everyone else.

His resolve lasted four days. On the fifth, he stood, leaning against his cane, in front of the entrance to Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron.

—

Aesop was at the Leaky Cauldron, his young companion talking excitedly beside him. She was telling him about her journey to Australia in great detail, and Aesop did his best to listen, as he was genuinely interested to hear what life was like for the wizards and witches down under. 

However, he found his attention wavering as his eyes fell upon her lips. Pink and soft and inviting. Would they taste as sweet as her voice sounded? Would they yield to him and accept his tongue between them? Would they release tiny gasps and sighs into his mouth? A leg bumped into his own below the table, a touch that could be explained as accidental, yet Aesop felt a shiver rolling down his spine. 

He didn’t even notice his own hand leaving his tumbler and going down, moving until he clearly felt some sort of soft, expensive fabric beneath his fingertips. “Professor?” the girl asked innocently, and it just occurred to Aesop that she hadn’t spoken for some time now. “I-...” he hurriedly took his hand away and looked into her brilliant eyes, “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

To his shock, the young woman smiled at him shyly, before grabbing his hand which had returned to his glass in the meantime. “It’s alright, sir… I don’t mind.”

She not only placed his hand back on her knee, she squeezed it as well. Aesop was in awe of how the situation changed. The pub was dark and quiet around them, and his face was so much closer to her own than it was minutes ago. “Miss (L/N),” he breathed, before both of his hands took a hold of her cheeks, and he finally succumbed to the undeniable allure, his sense and sanity slipping away from him. 

He didn’t think, he just took. He claimed her mouth, drank from her lips deeply and was delighted to find them pliant and welcoming. She tasted sweet, like the wine she’d been drinking, and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of madness, all from their passionate kiss.

Aesop had no idea just how or when they got into a room that looked suspiciously a lot like his own bedchamber, or when they both disrobed and stood nearly bare in front of each other. He could feel the softness of her bosom as it pressed against his own chest, as well as his own stiffness rubbing into her stomach. 

He saw his own hands, strong and so large compared to her own, seizing the fabric of her chemise, right in the middle of her chest, before ripping it open. It made a very satisfying sound. Once he released the ruined garment, it fell right down her body, licking over her curves like a wave, and Aesop found his hands following the movement, stroking her shoulders, her arms, travelling then to her ribs, waist, her hips.

His fingers dug into her love handles as he effortlessly moved with her towards the bed in the room. It was surreal, Aesop thought, it was as if the bed was the only important item in the room apart from the two of them. Everything else was somewhere in the background, blurry and dull and absolutely unnecessary. After he’s made her lie down, after he’s spread her for him, everything else just disappeared.

At that moment, it was just her, her and her young, divine body, her red cheeks and hooded eyes, her legs opened wide to accommodate his hips, her perfect soft breasts pouring gently to her sides with gravity. 

His fingers found her opening, hot, wet and quivering against his digits as he pushed them inside. Unbelievably welcoming. Aesop felt himself throb nearly painfully at the pleasurable promise, and he hurriedly pushed his pants down, freeing the strained erection. His slightly uneven teeth found one nipple and pinched it expertly as he lined up with her hungry entrance, making a shuddered sound leave those sweet lips of hers. 

With a single fluid motion, he buried himself within her soft depths, her loud gasp echoing through the room, which became nothing but a dark void of space, enveloping the two of them upon the bed like a comforting blanket, shrouding them in their intimacy, in their passion. She was so tight and warm, and Aesop groaned at the feeling of her velvety walls squeezing around him, coaxing him deeper, begging him to move. So he did, pulling out of her before plunging back in, making them both grunt at the explosion of sensations.

He sat up on his knees without separating their bodies, grabbing her hips quite roughly to impale her on his length again and again, watching where their bodies became one, where her soft, pink folds were taking him so well. He felt nearly ready to burst, the sight, the sounds she made ushering him to his brink faster than ever before, when…

Aesop woke up with a moan, surprised to find himself somewhere else entirely. He peered through the darkness of the room, soon identifying it as his bedroom at the faculty tower, his suitcases still unpacked and lying next to the heavy wooden wardrobe. His cock throbbed in his vice grip, aching with arousal, and Aesop let go of it in horror.

Merlin’s saggy left bollock!

This cannot be happening.

He was forty four years old, no hormonal teenager who wakes up with sticky bed sheets! There was the occasional morning arousal, yes, but nothing a little bit of willpower wouldn't fix, but now? Now he still felt like he was thrifty seconds from emptying himself into his sleeping trousers, despite not touching himself anymore. And the dream… Sweet Salazar…

He had a big problem on his hands. He masterfully ignored the gentle touches and tenderness between himself and the young Ravenclaw in his previous dreams, chalking them up to a close platonic fondness he felt for the girl. He even ignored the kisses he laid upon her sweet dreams, but now… Now it was impossible to lie to himself. What he felt for her was anything but platonic. His body ached for her, her touch, his prick still standing eagerly below the covers, begging for his attention.

He wouldn’t give it. It wasn’t right. She was still his student and he doubted she saw him as anything else than her teacher, an authority figure. He promised to himself to be there for her, to make sure she’s happy, not lust after her.

Aesop tried his best to will his erection down, but it just wouldn’t budge. It felt nearly painful at this point, hurting more than his leg currently, and he waged an inner battle with himself, stuck between desperately wanting his relief and apprehension towards stroking himself to completion to his mental image of the young woman.

With a heavy sigh, he got up and wrapped his dressing gown around himself. It’s been several minutes, and he was in the same state he woke up in. He made sure to tie the dressing gown loosely, so as not to draw attention to the sizable bulge in front in the unlikely case he would meet someone on his way to the Prefects’ bathroom. Cold shower it was. How he hated them, they always made the pain in his leg sear up. But there was no other choice. 

Damn that woman. She walked into his life, into his dreams, and it seemed she wasn't planning on leaving. She made him wake up with heated cheeks, and the ghost of her warmth against his body, and now also with the hot cloak of arousal clinging to him, unwilling to let him go from its sweet embrace. Aesop was lusting. He could no longer remember when was the last time he longed this much, was it years? A decade? Oh, Merlin…

He was in trouble.

—

“I would’ve thought you’d be quite exhausted after your classes today, so don't blame me for being baffled that you're still in the mood for an evening visit,” Aesop said, leaning against the doorframe of his chambers, fixing the Ravenclaw with a questioning look. She did look a little tired, but it didn’t dampen her genuine smile. “Actually,” she replied, “Since I didn’t sign up for NEWT level History of Magic and Divination, I don’t have classes until tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be able to sleep in for a bit.”

The girl fidgeted with the small canvas bag she was holding, and Aesop thought he saw her blush a little too, although he couldn't be certain.

“But, um… I can come some other time, sir, if you’re too tired.”

The potions master wasn’t exactly tired. In fact, his entire body was buzzing with nervous energy. And it was the dream he had the previous night he had to blame.

It was another of the lecherous ones, heady, lust filled dreams that left marks not only on his mind and heart, but most especially on his body. Since the first time he woke up with a raging erection following such a dream, there were a few times he was able to calm both his body and his mind down, and there were times he had to begrudgingly go and take a cold shower in order to school his treacherous length into obedience.

This one, though, this one was different.

-

Aesop didn’t recognise it as a dream. He was taking a dip in the Prefects’ bathroom tub, the warmth doing wonders for him. A blissed sigh left his mouth every few minutes as he let the hot water from one of the taps cascade down his neck, his shoulders and back, several strands of his hair sticking wetly to his face and forehead. He has long since thoroughly washed both his hair and body, and was now simply relaxing. 

He was always fond of water and enjoyed swimming often during the summer - until his leg turned what used to be a pleasant experience into one that was uncomfortable at best, and straight up painful at worst.

Warmth made the pain lessen somewhat, and so he didn’t hurt quite so bad in the pool-like tub’s hot water. Combined with a Wiggenweld potion beforehand, he was able to actually swim a few laps once every now and then, usually in the dead of night, when there was no chance some prefect or a colleague would want to use the bathroom as well.

And yet, Aesop flinched visibly, because a splash that wasn’t his own suddenly reverberated through the room. He tried to reach into his dressing gown for his wand, but quickly realised he wasn’t wearing his dressing gown. It was laid over the small cabinet at the very back of the room, his wand inside the pocket. When he was an Auror, he would’ve never let his guard down like this. However, he was a teacher now, working and living in what was to be one of the safest places in the country, so he felt like he could part from his wand for the one hour or so he was going to bathe.

And yet, here he was, wet, naked and vulnerable, his eyes searching for the source of the splash. They widened when a head suddenly emerged not seven feet away from him. 

“Miss (L/N)!” he spoke loudly once he recognised the Ravenclaw in all of her wet glory, “Would you kindly explain just what do you think you’re doing here? Firstly, it is very much after curfew, secondly, I know I locked the door after I entered, and thirdly, you have no business being here at all!”

Aesop felt hotness spreading over his cheeks as the young woman swam closer to him. Bubbles were lapping at her bare shoulders and collarbone. She was apparently as nude as he, and he struggled to keep his gaze from trying to penetrate the water and foam in search of her body. The Ravenclaw only smiled at him and swam even closer, stopping less than two feet away. 

He tried to back away, but she always followed, keeping the distance. His back made contact with the wall of the pool, and Aesop shortly considered climbing out, before he realised his state of undress once more, not to mention his starting arousal. “M-Miss (L/N)... (F/N),” he pleaded. What for, he didn’t know. The girl outstretched her arms and cornered him, hands grabbing onto the edge of the tub on each side of him. He was trapped.

Now, if he wanted, the former Auror could’ve very easily pushed the eighteen year old away. And yet, even as he felt her lower belly press softly against his now rock hard length, he stayed put exactly where he was, stuck between desire and restraint, with no idea what to do with his hands.

He shivered when he saw her kittenish grin, his heart pounding as she bent her head and licked a long stripe from his collarbone all the way up to his ear.

Next thing he knew, Aesop was sitting on the edge of the tub, pulling her out of the water and on top of him.

The tiled floor felt cold against his heated back, and the drag of his head on it felt quite uncomfortable, but the potions master couldn’t be bothered, not when he had (F/N) (L/N) bouncing up and down on his cock, her fingers digging into the furred skin on his chest and her breasts moving most enticingly in time with her hips. He bent his legs and braced his feet on the ground, soon meeting her thrusts with his own. He was grunting as he invaded the young body above him in a steady rhythm, the tips of his fingers sure to leave bruises on the flesh of her hips. Marked as his own.

Her pretty face all screwed up in pleasure drove him on. Aesop grabbed her hips even harder, keeping her in place while he pushed himself incredibly deep inside her, and began grinding his hips, angling her so that her swollen clit rubbed against his pubic hair with every move.

It soon became too much, her walls squeezing him, her tits jiggling with their movements, her moans and whimpers growing louder and mixing with the obscene slapping sounds of their intimate union. And then, when her back arched and a choked gasp cut through the thick, heady air like a bolt shot from a crossbow, Aesop knew he was done for.

The muscles in his stomach tensed as he felt the red-hot coil in his core thrum and burn brighter before snapping in an explosion of most primal carnal pleasure. The potions master groaned loudly, his hips shuddering as he pumped the young Ravenclaw full of his cum.

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, his orgasm making all of his nerve endings sizzle like electricity. 

“Hmm, professor…” the girl sighed, her voice dripping with gratification.

“D-don’t… don’t call me that. Not n-now.”

There was no answer, and when Aesop opened his eyes, he realised why. He wasn’t in the prefects’ bathroom, he wasn’t lying naked on the hard tiled floor, and his pretty little Ravenclaw (who actually wasn’t his at all) was most likely calmly sleeping up in her dorm room, blissfully unaware of her professor’s depravity.

He groaned once more when he realised what state he was in. 

His hand was down his pants, wet and sticky with his release, as was his entire front. He cringed when he pulled his hand away and the damp fabric of his underwear clung to his spent shaft. He reached towards the chair next to his bed with his clean hand until he felt the wood of his wand under his fingertips. His movement wasn’t as elegant as it would’ve been if he was using his right hand, but he still managed to perform the cleaning charm, vanishing the evidence of his pleasure from both his person and his clothes. 

He lay back into his bed heavily, releasing a long sigh. Bloody hell… This was getting ridiculous… His body behaved like it was fifteen (only at night, though, his back felt like he was sixty when he woke up in the morning), his unconscious brain was obsessed with the eighteen year old Ravenclaw, and now, whenever he went to the Prefects’ bathroom, he’d see in his mind’s eye the image of (F/N) riding him in wild abandon. Which will of course be plenty useful, when he goes there to cool himself off from another dream… 

Merlin… What would she think of him if she knew the extent of his emotions towards her? What would she think if she saw his longing, his lust? His… absolute pining… The professor closed his eyes with another sigh. Small traces of the dream’s gratification were still floating about in the cool air of his chambers, lulling his mind back into the depths of slumber. And as its arms began to wrap around him, Aesop could’ve sworn they were the arms of the beautiful student, enclosing him in her loving embrace.

—

It was no wonder Aesop was hesitant to accept her into his chambers that evening. It was different when they were in his office; there he was the professor still, at least a part of him was. The door was always open, there were students going in and out of his classroom to work on their potions. 

Here, in his private rooms, though? Here the pretence of being merely a teacher and a student was dropped. Here, they were… friends. Here, in the still and quiet, they were just two people who found an understanding for one another’s situation.. The only thing that reminded them of their titles was just that - their titles. Aesop’s tongue slipped every now and then and he called the young woman by her first name, but otherwise they addressed each other as ‘Miss (L/N)’ and ‘Professor Sharp’ or ‘Sir’.

There were countless times Aesop wanted to offer her the first name basis when it was just the two of them, but then he always forgot to bring it up. And then later, when his heart started aching for her, when his dreams tipped from plain affection and comfort into an inferno of pining, of love and lust… he decided it was for the best that she only addressed him as she always did. He didn’t think he could handle knowing how his first name sounded from her lips. And he was certain his treacherous resting brain would take to torturing him even more than it has before… No, best to stay as professional as he could. Keep their meetings to his office, keep their tones light, keep their last names…

And yet, as she stood outside his door, the tiniest flick of sadness in her eyes at the prospect of being refused by him, Aesop found that he physically couldn’t. The very idea of telling her to go back to her common room and only seek him out in his office made his stomach close up.

Aesop wanted her right here. He wanted to sit down with her and have a cup of tea, discuss how her NEWT classes were treating her, and which students were the bane of his existence this year. He wanted to say some dry ironic retort, because he knew they made her grin, and he wanted her smile to shift into that of excitement and happiness as she talked about all of her wonderful beasts in the Room of Requirement.

All of this and so much more was what made him open the door wider, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a smile that was only for her.

“I suppose I can spare a few moments. I just hope you’ve got something good in that bag.”

“Cauldron cakes and Butterbeers, sir.”

“Well in that case, come on in!”

—-

It was a cold night, and salty air was blowing into Aesop’s face, biting at his smooth cheeks. His eyes scanned the dark harbour until they fell upon the ship he was looking for; St Joan. He swallowed heavily - their culprit was all on his own, yet the Auror still felt adrenaline begin to pump through his bloodstream. They’ve been chasing him for weeks, and it was now or never.

“Lead the way, Ace,” Ashley said next to him, her wand drawn.

Aesop drew his own wand and the pair began walking towards the ship.

And then all hell broke loose.

A downpour began, people were shouting, curses were flying through the air and the two Aurors did their best to dodge and deflect them. They were back to back, perfectly synchronised in their movements, they covered each other. Ashley used Accio on a pair of wizards to her left, bringing them into Aesop’s field of view just in time for him to send a well aimed Diffindo their way, the spell hitting their chests and throwing them to the ground head first, promptly rendering the bleeding men unconscious.

For a while, Aesop was sure that they would emerge victorious from this heated battle, the adversaries were dropping to the ground left and right and they weren’t getting back up. In his sureness that the situation was under control, he left Ashley’s side, intent on capturing their big fish before he could slither away once more. Only, as he triumphantly glared at the middle aged Irishman, he noticed the smuggler boss looking back at him in a smug and completely unafraid manner.

“Aesop!” Ashley screamed, panic evident in her deep voice. He turned around and paled. Where he previously left his partner battling no more than three criminals, now stood more than a dozen men and women in dark clothes, and all of them had their wands drawn at Ashley, preparing to cast their curses at the woman, and Aesop heard more popping sounds, announcing the arrival of even more. With one last look at Aengus fucking O'Brien, who was in the middle of disapparating back to safety, he began to run towards his partner.

They failed. Not only did they not manage to capture the bloody bastard, their what was supposed to be an easy job just turned into a literal fight for their lives. 

He and Ashely did their best to defend themselves, but despite their skill, they were just too severely outnumbered. Aesop felt a sick feeling in his chest - they might not ever leave here alive.

He saw one of the meaner looking wizards to his left ready his wand, a strange dark smoke like magic swirling at its tip as he prepared to cast on the Auror. Green jets of light began to fly around them.

At that moment, Aesop just knew. He knew that Ashley wouldn't survive the night. He knew he’d forever be crippled once the curse found its target on his body. He knew, because this already happened, and he witnessed it happen dozens upon dozens of times. And he was to witness it once more.

“Professor!”

Aesop flinched. That voice… He looked for its source and saw her, standing some fifty feet away from him. His heart dropped.

No… No, no, no, she cannot be here. If she stays here, they’re going to hit her, she’s going to die! Please no. I can’t lose her too!

Aesop wanted to run towards the young Ravenclaw, he wanted to use his own body to protect her from whatever curse the bastards would cast on her, but his legs didn’t move a single inch.The Auror was rooted to the spot. He didn’t care that it made no sense for her to be here, nor the fact she seemed to deflect the golden snitch sized raindrops that were steadily falling from the sky, that wasn’t important. What was important was that she had to leave before she got hurt, before she got killed. And yet his legs still felt like lead and he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t even scream - Oh Merlin! No!

In a blink of an eye, she stood in front of him, her face a mask of peace and serenity, even as chaos of the battle still raged behind her, as screams and explosions pierced the air around them. None of the spells fired at Aesop found their mark, it was like he wasn’t even there, like he was naught but thin air. 

The young woman raised her right hand, her soft digits tracing over his scar with utmost gentleness. Wait a minute… Aesop wasn’t hit yet, how did he have a scar? 

“Professor Sharp?” She spoke again, and, with another blink of his eyes, he was no longer getting drenched by the rain in a harbour in Scarborough, he wasn’t being fired hexes and curses at, and his partner wasn’t fighting for her life to his left. The cacophony of battle was replaced by the gentle crackling of fire, the sound of his own wildly beating heart the loudest sound in the room. His room. In Hogwarts… He wasn’t an Auror anymore, he taught potions. 

His thoughts, confused and scattered, were interrupted by another gentle touch to his scarred cheek. He took a deep breath and looked around - he was in his room, sitting on an unfamiliar sofa in front of the hearth, the fire being the brightest light source in the otherwise dim room. The young Ravenclaw was sitting next to him, looking at him with a concerned expression. The flames were dancing upon the pristine skin of her tender face, their glow reflected in her brilliant eyes. Aesop felt his heartbeat slow and even out at the sight of her - safe and sound, right next to him. “Are you alright, sir?” she asked once more, her hand warm over his scar, unwavering in its gentleness, even as a tear rolling out of his eye dampened it.

“Yes… Yes, it’s alright, (F/N).”

She scooched closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, her body against his side warmer than the flames in front of him. He lost Ashley years ago, he didn’t know how he’d fare if he lost the girl next to him too. He wouldn’t be able to go on. Aesop allowed himself to rest his own head against hers and close his eyes, breathing in deeply.

Aesop slept until morning. 

—

It was early afternoon when he decided to sketch for a while - it’s been some time since he’s last held a charcoal in his hand, but today he felt like he genuinely needed it. His leg was feeling up to the task that day, and so the potions master climbed all the way into his little atelier, hobbling towards the drawing desk and plopping down onto the chair in front of it. He gripped the charcoal and expertly dragged it over the parchment in front of him, letting his thoughts wander freely as he drew.

While the Hogwarts owlery began to slowly but surely materialise out of his strokes, he thought of his dream the previous night. It began like it always did, with him having no idea he was dreaming, no idea he was going to watch the worst moment of his life unfold all over again. Except tonight… Tonight he was spared. He was spared the panic and the pain, both physical and emotional, as the young woman entered his dream and saved him from it, with a handful of words and a single touch.

He was grateful, of course, though he didn’t know to what exactly. To (F/N) who was probably spending the Saturday afternoon with her friends, blissfully unaware of Aesop’s night terrors? To his own mind, who finally managed to find a way to spare him? To his heart, which he felt was starting to beat for the Ravenclaw more and more? His heart…

Aesop remembered the terror he felt when he saw (F/N) in that harbour, fear so horrible it still sent a shiver down his spine even now. The possibility of losing her made his chest feel tight, his lungs not getting enough oxygen, his heart not having enough space to beat. Her presence in his life was not only wanted, it was needed.

Aesop dragged a clear piece of parchment in front of himself to suppress the pang that rolled through him then.

She was in her seventh year. In nine months, she’s going to board the Hogwarts Express and leave, and Aesop very much doubted she’d start coming over on a weekly basis to come see him… And even if she did come to see him occasionally, she’d soon meet new people in her adult life, people who’d be close to her, both in distance and in age. He was going to lose her.

Aesop folded his coal stained hands in his lap, rubbing them together slowly as he observed his portrait of (F/N) (L/N), looking at him from the parchment, her eyes smouldering and scorching him.

—

He was reclining on the leather sofa in his room, reading something but not actually making anything out. The ‘words’ swam in front of his eyes, the scrawls and scribbles absolutely unresembling any language Aesop knew. That’s how he realised he was dreaming again. He wasn’t sure which was better, thinking that what he was experiencing was the reality, or knowing his slumbering mind was forming mental images for him to witness while his body regained its strength. Torturing him and taunting him with what he could never have. He closed the book, its cover and weight reminding him of his copy of A Study in Scarlet, and placed it next to him on the sofa.

He could hear the door to his chambers open, as he expected it would, and soon quiet footsteps reached his ears too. There she was again. Soon she stood right in front of him, in her casual uniform, though her tie or the Ravenclaw crest that usually adorned her pristine white shirt were nowhere to be found. In fact, if one didn’t know she was a Hogwarts student, they could easily think her simply a young woman in a shirt and a skirt, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows in a laid back manner. For some reason, it comforted Aesop.

As if sensing his thoughts, she clicked her tongue and looked at him as if he just told her the silliest thing in the world. She shook her head then and stepped closer to him. Aesop’s heart was racing, and he was caught between wanting to bolt, to hobble away as fast as he could to the nearest Floo flame, and wanting to grab onto any part of her that was closest, any part he could reach, and pull her closer, pull her atop him and hold her and not let go. He could - he was dreaming after all. However, he stayed put, not moving a single muscle.

The sofa dipped beside him as she sat down, immediately curling into him and resting her head on his lap, facing him. Aesop watched with hooded eyes as she made herself comfortable, sighing as she settled. He heard that sound often, whenever she took a first sip of her tea, a mix of good quality tea leaves with dried cornflowers he learned she loved, and made sure to always have it on hand. Her eyes caught his own, the look inside them making his poor heart skip a beat, before resuming its hurried pace.

Such was the power of that simple look. It was filled with warmth, with fondness, and there was a smile on her face, a happy and content one. He wished he could see that look every single day, even if it wasn’t caused by or directed at him. In his dream, though, the smile was for him, and only him, and Aesop bent in the waist, leaning over her and resting his head on his hand, his elbow placed next to her head. 

His heart throbbed. It ached. He knew he was dreaming, but everything felt so real. The flowery scent of her perfume, the warmth of her breath fanning against his cheeks, her soft palms coming to stroke his face and wipe at the tear that rolled out of his eye. His mind truly was intent on torturing him, he thought as he succumbed to the allure, as he decided to use the chance to hold her when he had it, dream or not. 

He gathered the young woman into his arms, pulling her higher until her face was pressed into the side of his neck and he could bury his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply the scent he only ever caught a whiff of from time to time when he moved behind her in his class. After a few minutes during which he only snuggled her close, nosing at her hair, her ear, her cheekbones, he pulled her back to look into her eyes.

Her smile was honest, genuine, yet incredibly enigmatic. Like a Mona Lisa in the flesh. She wasn’t actually there, and none of this was real…

“Oh, sweet Merlin, (F/N).”

He said only as he chased her soft lips in a kiss. It wasn’t real, but it was as good as he was going to get.

—

When Aesop found himself in bed with the young Ravenclaw, he knew it was a dream. He would’ve remembered every single tiny little detail of how he got there, he just knew he would. 

Therefore, when he saw her right there, he didn’t waste any time asking pointless questions. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her securely and even threw his leg over her own, effectively trapping her in his embrace. He could make out her face in the dimness of the room, saw her eyes glisten ever so slightly, saw her lips stretch in a smile, her face inches away from his own. She felt so real, Aesop felt her warmth, her softness, her breath against his cheek and nose, he could smell her perfume and the rose scented soap she used. 

He couldn’t stop the corners of his own mouth from turning up, as his right hand came to push a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his calloused finger trailing against the silky smooth apple of her cheek. 

“What am I going to do when you’re not here anymore?” he asked softly, more to himself than anything else. And yet, the girl in his arms tilted her head somewhat at the question. “When I’m not here anymore?” she smiled again, “Sir, it’s not like I’m about to disappear off the face of the planet… I’m just graduating later this year.” Despite the storm of emotions inside his heart, Aesop chuckled: “Not off the face of the planet, no, but… I can’t delude myself into thinking that you’ll still be a part of my life after you leave… That I’ll be a part of yours. And even if I was… it wouldn’t be in the way I long for..”

Her hand came to stroke at his cheek again, the gesture now so familiar. Only in his dreams, sadly. The potions master leaned into it, his eyes closing on their own accord at the tender touch.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Aesop released a long sigh, his arms closing around his dreamy bedmate as if he wanted to will her into reality. 

“I want you in my life more than I’ve ever wanted anything before… If I’m being perfectly honest, if I had… If I had to choose between you and the cure for my leg, I’d hobble my way to you without looking back, but… That would be incredibly selfish of me. You deserve so much more. So much better… Even in the unlikely scenario that you’d ever love me back.”

Aesop finished with an unhappy chuckle, his chest feeling tight and heavy with emotion. Her fingers were combing through his hair, the intimate touch bringing a sense of peace to his throbbing heart. She pulled at it lightly, enough to make him raise his head, but not enough to hurt, and once his gaze connected with hers once more, she closed the distance between them, searching for his mouth in the still and quiet. 

And as she pulled him atop her, their lips melding together, Aesop knew he would never be the same.

He woke up in a tangle of sheets and blankets.

—

The day was frankly horrible, and the worst part of it was ironically the best one as well. The whole ‘love letters fiasco’ left him drained physically and emotionally, and as he tried to breathe through another painful cramp of his fucking leg, he cursed himself for having been so foolish. 

It was over. Done. Finished. 

(F/N) would read Sebastian Sallow's letter and she’d return his feelings, because she was obviously fond of the boy. Because he was an obvious choice from day one, the most logical one. She’ll be with the young Slytherin and she’ll be happy, and while her being happy was exactly what Aesop wanted, he felt his stomach lurching at the thought of them together. A pang of guilt and shame soon followed, and the potions master felt his leg beginning to cramp up once more.

It was a hellish pain, much, much worse than what he usually had to suffer through, worse than what he experienced after he woke up from his night terrors. 

Aesop tried to breathe through it, his brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut, droplets of sweat forming at his hairline. He gripped the armrests of his seat so hard, his knuckles had gone white, and when a knock came on his door, it took him several seconds to even school his teeth into unclenching so that he could answer. He knew who it was, how could he bloody not. 

His voice was unsteady when he called out: “G-go away!”

Of course, she didn’t. She opened the door to his chambers (how come it was unlocked?) and came straight in.

“Miss (L/N), if our friendship means anything to you, you’ll get the hell out of my rooms and forget you ever saw me like this!” he cried out, curling in on himself as a particularly strong wave of pain rolled through him, forcing tears into his eyes. He blinked quickly, trying to stop them from spilling over. The young woman came closer, kneeled before him. Aesop would’ve inquired as to what she thought she was doing, if he wasn’t in the middle of choking back a whimper. 

There was sudden warmth against his leg and Aesop looked up to see what was going on. She held her wand to his left lower thigh, above his knee, obviously having applied a heating charm to the fabric. Her hands, so much smaller than his own, began massaging the poor limb tentatively, and several minutes later, Aesop actually felt the pain lessening. The relief made his tears finally roll over his eyelids and fall down his cheeks.

She carried on with her slow deliberate movements for a while before standing up again and taking a hold of his face. The touch was so familiar from his dreams, yet so foreign in reality. Aesop opened his tears filled eyes and looked up at the young woman. He no doubt looked absolutely miserable, he didn’t want to see the pity and repulsion with him within her eyes. 

Except there was none. 

When the professor looked into (F/N) (L/N)’s eyes, all he saw was worry. Care. Love. Her own tears were glistening just past her eyelids as she used her fingers to wipe away his. He gasped quietly when she brought his head to rest against her chest, his nose against her collarbone. She made gentle shushing noises, her fingers stroking his hair, her body moving in a slow rocking motion. What she said next had him wrapping his arms around her, his tears starting anew.

“Did you really think I’d just leave you alone with this? After everything? You’re such a clever man, sir, but sometimes you have the silliest thoughts.”

He quietly sobbed into the fabric of her pristine white shirt, his tears seeping into the soft material. Aesop felt her pressing kisses into his hair as she let him weep, her own chest shuddering with every exhale as she held him close to her, as if she wanted to give him her own strength. 

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Aesop didn’t know. He didn’t care. Even after his tears went dry, even after the girl stopped trembling, they stayed in their embrace, hearts bared, souls reaching out to tangle with each other. Aesop didn’t want her to leave, he didn’t want her to stop holding him, didn’t want her to stop kissing the crown of his head. However, they both knew that sleep was something they both desperately needed now.

“It’s very late, sir,” (F/N) said, her voice no more than a whisper, one that fanned through his hair, and caressed his haunted soul. Her gentle hands grabbed his face again and he was made to look at her once more. Aesop wanted to tell her right then and there, he wanted to tell her that she held his heart in her hands the same way she held his cheek, but not a single sound left his lips as their gazes met. “Come,” she said as she helped him to his feet. 

Aesop didn’t know how she did it, but she managed to get him to his bedroom, and sit him on his bed, while making sure he put almost no weight on his bad leg. It would seem she found just as much comfort in touching his face as he, because she was holding it yet again. Or maybe she was just making sure she had his attention.

“Are you going to be alright? Should I fetch you anything?” 

Aesop cleared his throat. It was sore from crying, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke: “The chest - at the foot of the bed…”

The young woman opened it and took out two vials of Wiggenweld potion, as well as a bottle of the light lavender concoction he introduced to her in her fifth year. Dreamless Sleep. She placed all potions next to him upon the bed and gave him a long look.

“I will be alright. I promise,” Aesop said sincerely after he gulped down the Wiggenwelds. The girl stared at him for a minute longer before nodding her head: “Alright…”

She then did something that took his breath away all over again.

She leaned down and placed her lips on his forehead, right above his eyebrows. It was an action so daring and yet so innocent, it stunned Aesop into absolute silence, and he even forgot to breathe for a few seconds. He wanted to ask her to stay, he wanted to hold her like he held her in his dreams. Instead, he squeezed her hand momentarily, enjoying its softness and warmth, before letting go of her. Before letting her go.

“Sleep well, (F/N).”

—

Her dream form stood right next to him, her hair blowing in the gentle breeze, eyes sparkling in the brilliant sunlight. She looked different, so very different than he usually saw her. She was dressed in a lightweight white gown, the look on her face ethereal.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with a little grin.

“Because you are beautiful.” 

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she teased then, and Aesop looked down to see he wasn’t wearing his usual ensemble. He was garbed in his best dress robes, with cufflinks that used to be his father’s. He looked at the young woman confusedly, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Are you… are you getting married?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“We are. Come on, everyone’s waiting for us!”

Aesop never had a dream about marrying anyone, not even those nearly two decades ago when he was certain he was going to marry Dinah one day. 

Now however, he knew he was going to treasure this particular dream till his dying breath. No matter what happens, at least he got to have this dream, and that is something nobody will take away from him.

—

As the days got shorter and nights became longer with the upcoming winter, Aesop Sharp became rather… desperate.The first snowflakes descended upon the castle’s roofs and grounds, covering the piles of fallen brown leaves with a fine dusting of snow, reminding Aesop of a Christmas pudding dusted with powdered sugar. The cold that accompanied the coming season did absolutely nothing for his leg, and he found himself applying a heating charm to his trousers with increasing frequency in an attempt to keep his leg warm. If he could avoid going outside, he did. 

The weather however, was not the cause of his desperation. It was the rate in which the young Ravenclaw appeared in his dreams, torturing him with her sweet smiles and sweeter kisses, mocking him with her tender touches and teasing him with her loud beating heart. In his dreams, it sounded as if it was beating for him.

She, of course, did not actually mock him, no, but it felt like mockery every time Aesop awoke alone in his bedchamber, all alone, cold and longing. She was not at fault, though, his own, self-destructive brain was the real culprit. It was as if his nightmares weren’t traumatic enough, weren’t taking enough out of him, resulting in grief over things he lost. So, instead, they became dreams of something he would never have, stabbing into his heart with every kiss the young woman bestowed upon his willing mouth, every long intense look she gave him, every passionate moan she released, every delicious touch. Nearly every. Single. Night.

Every time she then actually came to meet him, Aesop thought about telling her that they can’t see each other anymore, that she cannot keep coming back into his chambers. He thought about how he’d reason his words, other than the truth.

Because he couldn’t exactly say: ‘Miss (L/N), we have to stop being friends, because every time you and I are alone, I feel like I am exactly ten seconds away from dragging you out of that armchair and into my own lap in order to push my mouth against your own with such intensity, you’ll be seeing stars by the time I’m done,’ could he?

And then he opened the door and she stood there, smiling up at him like she was looking forward to this moment the entire day, and Aesop’s heart leaped up into his throat and skipped a beat. He found himself smiling back and opening the door for her. He knew he could never ask her to keep her distance. He was getting high on her very presence, and was now desperately addicted to it. And the most insane thing - he always managed to control himself. He was a good conversational partner, and a good host in his chambers, preparing her tea less than twenty seconds after she entered, just as she carefully portioned out the house elves baked goods she brought for them to share this time.

Whenever she was around, he found himself breathing a bit easier, smiling slightly more, he even joked around every now and then, delighting in every wonderful little laughter she rewarded him with, feeling like a healing balm to his weary soul. And the touching… Goodness, the small touches they shared, the way she not only allowed him to hold her hand sometimes, but turned it in his grasp so that she could hold him back, the way her delicate fingers fit against his own calloused ones, the way her thumb stroked tenderly over the back of his hand.

It was an exquisite kind of torture, and Aesop no longer knew whether he wanted it to finally stop, or whether he craved more. She was unknowingly destroying him, and Aesop, like the mad old man he was, was loving it. 

“So… do tell, where are you headed for the holidays this year,” he asked one such evening, her small hand in his own, the flames in his fireplace licking up their skin, making him even warmer than he already felt just from her presence. 

“Nowhere, sir,” she replied quietly, not wanting to spoil the nearly intimate atmosphere they had at that moment, “We used to go to the mountains for Christmas, me and my parents, but well… not anymore. It’s a shame, really - even they used to be quite happy whenever we went to this nice hotel in Switzerland, near the Giessbach falls. They even allowed me to learn to ski. However, my mother slipped on some ice there some years ago, and hurt her leg. So… we don’t go there anymore. And seeing as all of my friends already have their own programme, well, I decide to just stay here. With all the work for my NEWTs this year, I’m sure I won’t be bored at all.”

Aesop listened to every word she spoke with interest, resting his head on his free hand, all the while caressing her own with the other one. “I too will be spending the holidays here. So, you know… if you ever feel like taking a break from your studies… you are always welcome here.” His heart was thumping with anxiety as he awaited her answer with a bated breath.

“Thank you, sir, that sounds lovely. Although… I may bring my work with me,” she said finally with a soft smile playing on her face, one Aesop once more found himself unable to not reciprocate: “That’s completely alright with me, (F/N). I too have some work I will be biting through during the holidays, so we might as well offer each other the comfort of company while we focus on our responsibilities.” The potions master felt like he was playing with fire, and was honestly surprised it didn’t come to bite him just yet. Even now, his answer was a toothy smile and a squeeze of her hand. 

“Sounds like a good Christmas to me.”

—

(F/N) was making such lovely sounds where she was lying underneath him, spread upon the crimson duvet of his bed. With every move of his hips, he drove himself deeper into her young body, his hip bones grinding against her own both deliciously and nearly painfully. Aesop held onto her side with one hand, keeping her in place so he could deliver a hard thrust after thrust, while his other hand was pawing at her left breast, squeezing and massaging the plush flesh in his hand, stroking his fingers over the hardened nub. His mouth was at the other tit, licking and suckling, intent on bringing the young woman as much pleasure as he possibly could.

He then sucked a visible mark to the skin just above the now swollen and raw red nipple, leaving an imprint of his uneven teeth behind. The potions master observed his work proudly, drinking up the Ravenclaw’s heady expression, the way her beautiful eyes disappeared behind her eyelids, rolling into the back of her head as he fucked her into his mattress, his cock stretching her open, bringing her closer and closer to that sweet abyss of primal pleasure. 

He felt her hand in his hair, pulling, tugging harshly, and released a low moan of his own, the sensations driving him wild, making him increase his pace. He felt her skin glide against his own, their bodies damp with sweat from their efforts, Aesop felt it coldly clinging to his chest hair, saw it glisten upon her once pristine skin, now bearing his marks, his claim. Bruises from where his fingers squeezed her hips and imprints of his teeth. She looked ruined, mad with lust and pleasure, flushed with unfocused eyes.

“So bloody beautiful,” he groaned, releasing her abused breast to grab her face, forcing her to look at him. “So lovely, my darling (F/N). So fucking perfect for me, taking me so well,” he lowered himself to press a filthy, open-mouthed kiss onto her pliant lips. “Hmm… My sweet, my precious…”

The girl’s moaning got louder, and she started to shudder against him, her legs trapping him between them as she started to grind her hips in time with him, her walls beginning to squeeze his weeping prick, prompting him to groan once more. 

And then, just as he saw her finally reach her peak, roll over that edge of ecstasy, she looked right into his eyes, her own so heavily dilated and unfocused, he was half certain she could barely see him, tears of pleasure sparkling just behind her eyelids: “I-I love you, sir.”

Aesop woke up with a start.

He was in his bed, aroused beyond belief, throbbing hard and feeling precome ooze out of his glans. He groaned when another throb to his cock made the material of his pants rub against the poor shaft. He was too far gone by now. The potions master threw the covers away from his feverish body, wiggled out of his pants and quickly grabbed at his cock, tugging at it harshly, playing the words out in his head again, and again. The wet slapping of his hand moving along the hot flesh penetrated the otherwise silent room, and his groans soon joined it. He thought about the young woman, of her words, of her body, her face, imagining himself fucking her tight little cunt until she couldn’t walk the next day.

“F-fuck, fuck!”

He flipped onto his belly, still holding his cock in a vice grip, and began pistoning his hips, concentrating on his fantasy hard. In it, he wasn’t just fucking wildly into his own hand, ruining his bedsheets with precome, he was taking that young woman who came into his life like a hurricane. 

‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’ 

It were these words that made his climax approach closer and closer, intense and world-shattering. In his wild abandon, he grabbed one of the large pillows on his bed and pushed it under his hips, gripping his cock then with both hands to increase the sensations. He bent his legs at the knees to be able to thrust into his hands with greater force, each one making him near his finish.

‘I love you.’

Aesop groaned pitifully, his saliva soaking into the pillow as his lungs burned with every ragged breath, as his muscles ached with the strange position, as his prick throbbed painfully, so fucking desperate for its release, growing even larger, even harder.

‘I love you.’

“Ah, fuck! Oh, (F/N), fuck! Hnngh!”

Aesop’s body spasmed, his toes curled, and he buried his head deeper into the pillow as he finally, finally, reached the peak of his pleasure.

His cock twitched heavily with every large spurt of spunk it shot out, soiling his hands and the pillow, even his shirt, making a fucking mess of his front, but Aesop didn’t care. His mind was entirely clouded by the divine pleasure and the picture of (F/N), by her words of love. It was an intense orgasm that left Aesop trembling slightly even a minute after the last drop of cum wept out of his softening prick.

The potions master was breathing hard, his mouth and chin wet with his own saliva that made a damp circle on the pillow. Of course, that was nothing compared to the ungodly, foul mess he left lower. Soon, the wet stickiness of his own spent made Aesop roll onto his back with a groan. 

Merlin’s fucking beard.

He was completely depraved, wasn’t he?

Hell, he couldn’t remember ever wanking with such a wild abandon, even when he was the age when it could be excused, blamed on teenage hormones.

He lay there on his back, his seed drying up on both the pillow and his skin, his hands, making the potions master crinkle his nose in disgust. 

“Fuuuck,” he groaned again, his voice hoarse as he finally reached for his wand to cast the cleaning spell on himself. He lay there still, his body and sheets once more clean, but the heady aroma of his own arousal still lingered in the air, the relief and muscle relaxation his orgasm brought him made him almost not feel his blasted leg at all. He wanted to curse himself, but his head felt so heavy and his mind so cloudy, he really couldn’t, not now at least.

Aesop closed his eyes.

‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’ still reverberated through his head, but this time he didn’t see the young woman underneath him, caught in the throes of passion. Instead, she was on top of him, resting upon his strong chest, her head lying on her folded arms as she gazed at him through her eyelashes, teasingly hiding her smile. He saw his hand coming to gently caress her hair, pushing it off her face. “I love you,” she’d say, quietly, yet sincerely. 

“I love you,” Aesop replied into the still and quiet around him, sleep taking him once more.

—

Aesop looked around the Great Hall. It looked so very empty, with the majority of students having gone home for the holidays, and only a few remaining. The Ravenclaw table was nearly vacant, and the few students there were sitting in a single group, close to the High table, among them Mr Thakkar and, of course, (F/N) (L/N), who were currently caught in a conversation. Aesop was watching them covertly, but while the starry-eyed Amit did make the googly eyes at the young woman, he kept a respectful distance.

Good.

Aesop’s selfish side whispered, and he narrowed his eyes somewhat at the young man.

“I certainly hope one of my best Eagle’s has not done anything to upset you, Aesop,” said Dinah dryly, blowing at her tea before taking a small sip. Aesop grumbled and stabbed a mushroom onto his fork with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. That got his friend’s attention: “What is it, dear? Aren’t you looking forward to some peace and quiet after the difficult few months? I don’t remember the school being this empty for Christmas in at least five years.”

“Of course I am looking forward to it!” 

“Then what’s got you staring like a basilisk at my Ravenclaws?”

“Nothing! I was lost in thought, that’s it. And my leg hurts.”

“I know your leg hurts, but you can’t always use it as an excuse, Aesop.”

“Watch me.”

Aesop dropped his eyes to his breakfast defiantly, carrying on with his attack on the food. Therefore he didn’t see his dear friend and colleague observe the young Ravenclaw who was currently talking excitedly about something with the Head Boy.

“Poor Amit,” she said after a while, “all the prefects and even the Head girl went home for the holidays. He’ll never be able to patrol the whole school by himself. Students could be sneaking out after curfew, and the possibility of him catching them is very slim.”

Aesop chose not to grace her words with an answer.

—

Aesop knew all too well that they’d be pretty much by themselves in the Faculty tower when she’d come to visit. Abraham went home to his wife, Mudiwa and her daughter were going to spend the break in their homeland, even the Magic Theory professor, Felicity Turner, who started teaching a year and a half ago, went away on a little holiday two days prior. Mirabel mostly kept to herself and her flowers, occasionally spending her days in the Three Broomsticks to be with her friend, and Nurse Blainey was just glad not be constantly bothered by students claiming to be sick with all kinds of excotic illnesses just so they could try to weasel their way out of class.

The potions master wasn’t sure whether to be ecstatic or terrified. The dream from a few days ago haunted him, terrified him, as did what he’s done upon waking. What if he lost his cool, what if he misinterpreted something that she said, snapped and ended up frightening her, or, Merlin forbid, forcing himself on her? He’d lose her and her friendship forever. 

The thought alone made cold sweat appear on the back of his neck. 

—

His heart fluttered around in his chest like mad as he awaited her arrival. She asked whether she’d be welcome to join him in his chambers after dinner, so that they could share a cup of tea, or perhaps something stronger, and talk for a bit. Aesop didn’t even think when he hurriedly answered her letter. Upon the light parchment, he only wrote a simple: ‘My door is open to you.’ 

He was so wound up, he actually began to sweat in his overcoat and jacket, and took them both off after a moment of consideration - he was in his rooms, after all, why shouldn't he. 

When the young woman mentioned ‘something stronger’ in her letter, Aesop immediately sent for a wine as similar to the one she drank in the Leaky Cauldron as could be found in The Three Broomsticks, not thinking twice about it. The potions master couldn’t help but feel like this evening was somehow significant.

How significant - he didn't know. However, his hair stood on end, and his heart was leaping in his chest. She was meeting him for Christmas Eve… Merlin knew what would happen.

—

Aesop stared at the young woman, his eyes wide, and, to his utter indifference, beginning to fill with tears. Why would his own mind torture him this way, hurt him like this, make hope blossom with his chest, it was not fair.

And yet, as the potions master’s hands balled into fists, as his knuckles went white, as his short fingernails dug into his palms, he slowly realised that perhaps… No.

This wasn’t real.

Aesop felt the pain of his nails cutting into his own skin. He felt the warmth of the flames in the fireplace. The taste of firewhiskey lingered on his lips, the strong liquor still burning in his throat. He could smell the fragrant pine wood being burned, the scent mingling with (F/N)’s perfume. He saw the light dance around his sitting room, saw the neat stack of books on his desk. ‘Moste Potente Potions’, ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’, ‘A Collection of Above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery’, he could read upon their spines perfectly. 

That didn't mean anything though!

Except… except when Aesop looked into her eyes, his heart skipped a beat.

How did he never notice?

Her eyes. The spark in her eyes, the one that shone even during the darkest of nights, that one thing he was never able to capture in any of his many many sketches of her face… Aesop couldn’t help but not recall seeing it in his dreams.

“I love you, sir.”

Aesop stood up, making the girl startle slightly. His mind went blank as he reached for her, as his fingers touched her cheek. Heavens, her skin was… so soft. So smooth under his weathered hand. And when he saw her lean into his touch, the potions master swallowed heavily.

I am going to die if this isn’t real. 

“Aesop,” he breathed. He needed… he needed to hear her say his name. He needed her to say that she loved him again. “I should have… I should have asked you to call me Aesop ages ago. My dearest girl…” His other hand came to stroke at her cheek.

“Aesop,” she said softly, her voice quiet. 

“There is nothing I’d want more than to have you by my side,” he admitted, his thumb coming to stroke the outline of her lips, so soft and inviting. The professor did his best to commit each and every second into his memory, imprint it there forever, but then, when her delicate hands took a hold of his face and guided him lower, his head just… gave out.

Aesop groaned quietly into the kiss, the sensations spreading through his body with all the ferocity of a forest fire during a hot summer. He barely noticed his arms wrapping around the girl’s waist, was only mildly aware of the way he imprisoned her smaller body in his hold. 

His brain had no chance to catch up, not when her hands were messing up his hair, not when he was allowed to taste her little sighs and gasps as they rolled wetly against his lips, tasting of wine, and of the very thing that made the young woman who she was. 

It was only when he pulled back to catch his breath did he finally feel like he could think again. He stood there with his eyes closed, his arms still curled tightly around the young body. He didn’t dare open either for the fear of the young woman not being there when he did, for it to be another dream.

“Aesop,” he heard again, so close he felt her breath on his ear. With a deep inhale, the professor opened his eyes to find the Ravenclaw still standing right there, her lips ever so puffier than they were a few minutes ago, and her cheeks flushed heavily. A smile slowly spread on his face and he realised… how bloody long has it been since he smiled like this. 

“Could you please…” he began, his voice hoarse, “could you please repeat what you said?” The young woman looked up at him questioningly for several moments, before opening her mouth: “Aesop?”

“No, no…” Aesop shook his head slowly, talking even quieter, “what you said before…”

It took another few seconds before the young woman remembered, her brain seemingly as scrambled as his own following their intimate interaction. 

“I love you?”

Aesop sighed loudly and let his face descend into the crook of her neck. His right hand stayed where it was, resting at her lower back and pressing her closer to him, while the other one slowly trailed up her back and into her hair. 

“I love you,” she repeated with conviction, embracing him sweetly, holding his head in place like she held him during that horrible night some time back. Except this time, Aesop shed no tears of pain or guilt. No.

He slowly dragged his head back up, his large nose stroking along the line of her throat, brushing up her jaw, cheek, until settling just inches away from hers. He captured her gaze, held her fluttering eyes with his own. Their breath mingled between them hotly, their close proximity intoxicating more than the alcohol. From this close, Aesop was perfectly able to see all the wonderful little intricacies of (F/N) (L/N)’s face, could very nearly count each and every one of her eyelashes, deeply drank in the sight of her little freckles, small circles under her sparkling eyes. 

“I love you…” she sighed again and this time, Aesop replied in kind before pulling her in for another kiss. 

—

Aesop had no clue as to how much time had passed before (F/N) finally left for the night… It must have been hours, but he still felt like it was not enough. Very much not enough. Aesop transfigured their armchairs into a single sofa in front of the flames, and then… then they kissed for a long time. Kissed, talked, kissed some more, drank more of their drinks of choice, talked in hushed intimate voices, and then kissed again. 

Despite his many dreams featuring the young Ravenclaw as their star, he completely forgot just how amazing it felt to just snog the living daylights out of someone. His dreams could not hold a candle to the real thing. And yet, a part of him was still terrified that he'd wake up any minute now, alone. This part of him, however, was never left to rule his mind for long. It stood no chance against the young woman's fingers in his hair, her legs thrown over his own where he sat on the sofa, her magnificent lips melding with his, their taste sweeter than Aesop ever imagined. 

He slowed down everytime he could feel their bodies heating up too much, wanting to take his time. Despite his heady, deeply erotic dreams throughout the months, Aesop was determined not to take this too fast - he wished, and he craved, and he so very much longed to hold the Ravenclaw in his arms, but he never once dared hope that he would be actually allowed to. And now that he was, he made a mental vow to not take such a gift for granted. He was going to do right by her. He was going to show her that despite the fact she could have so much better than him, he was going to do everything in his power not to make her regret that she chose him.

Later, when they held one another, their hands and fingers tentatively tracing each other's features, Aesop slowly felt sleep creeping up on him. The room grew cooler as the flames died down and the professor used his considerable build to shield his companion from the cold.

— 

When Aesop woke up in the morning, the first thing he felt was a twinge of panic - was it a dream? He tried to recall the night. 

Soft hands. Quiet words. Sweet lips.

He wasn't wearing his sleeping clothes.

After she's left, the potions master only managed to go and relieve his bursting bladder, before renewing the fires in his room, pulling his clothes off, and falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

It was Christmas Day 1893, and professor Aesop Sharp found himself questioning his own memory, something he never really had to do before. He knew she was there, judging by the glasses left in his sitting room and the neatly wrapped present from her. There was still a drop of firewhisky left in one of the tumblers, and, without further ado, Aesop gulped it down.

It wasn't until breakfast sometime later when his mind calmed down. His eyes sought her out immediately after he sat down, and he saw her looking at him covertly from the Ravenclaw table. She looked tired, with circles under her eyes, but Aesop swore that she was glowing. Has he ever seen her this happy? He allowed the tiniest little smile her way, before digging into his breakfast hungrily.

"Merry Christmas, Aesop," Dinah chirped next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. 

It was. It was a merry Christmas indeed.

"Merry Christmas, Di."

—

Aesop awoke. His eyes fluttered a little before opening slowly, blinking away the slowly fading remains of slumber. First thing he saw in the dimness of his room, illuminated only by the embers in the fireplace, and the winter sun streaming into his chambers from the windows in his sitting room, was (F/N)(L/N). 

She was sleeping in his arms, safe and secure, and finally, finally, his. Just to be sure, Aesop pinched his own hand, but a part of him knew that this was no dream. No. He remembered every single moment that led up to this one, every word, every kiss, every little touch. He remembered the way he stared into her brilliant eyes as sleep slowly claimed them the previous night, he remembered the feeling of her soft pyjamas underneath his fingertips, he remembered feeling the way her breathing evened out, the way it felt to have her chest pushed against his with every deep inhale.

No, no. This was no dream. He truly was in his bed, in his own set of pyjamas, and with his brilliant girl snuggled into his chest. Aesop felt the corners of his mouth lift and stretch into a grin so wide, it almost hurt. He could not remember the last time he smiled this hard, if ever. Very carefully, as not to wake her up, he ran his fingers through her sleep-matted hair, pushing it out of her angelic face. The potions master let a quiet sound of absolute contentment leave his mouth as he once more wrapped both of his arms around her body, his legs tangling with her own further below the covers. 

The girl stirred as she was being lovingly smothered in Aesop’s embrace, though she didn’t seem to be complaining. In fact, she grabbed onto the fabric of his sleeping shirt, grabbing a fistful of material with each hand, she pulled him even closer, her nose dragging along his neck and breathing him in deeply.

“Good morning, Aesop,” she said, her voice muffled slightly between their bodies, “Did you have nice dreams?” Aesop chuckled breathlessly.

“No. I don't think I dreamed at all last night. But it does feel like I'm dreaming right now.”

I sincerely hope you enjoyed rading! As always, you can find this work and all of my other fics over on AO3. I am always incredibly grateful for feedback!

[zetadraconis11]

HL Incorrect Quote #44

*in the Ravenclaw common room*

Amit: *slowly comes in while staring into space*

Samantha: Oh, Amit! You went with MC to translate some Gobbledegook, right? How was it?

Amit:

Andrew: Er, Amit? Are you alright?

Amit: I think...my memoir just got more interesting!

Samantha: Oh, that's good! So it went well?

Amit: Oh, it went terribly. Goblins found us and tried to kill us. Then MC and I fought them off. Well, MC did most of it, with this strange magic of conjuring lightning without a Thunderbrew, and being able to grab exploding barrels and chuck them at the enemies!

Andrew: That sounds...horrifying.

Amit, still excited: Oh, it was. I'll probably have nightmares, but it will be an exciting chapter for my book!

[crushribbons]

oh hey… it’s me again (maybe you know who i am… perhaps a certain request about best friend seb might ring a bell). since it’s october i was thinking i should request this fantasy of mine where us and seb go to a halloween party together (as friends, you know how it be) and they start getting drunk and sebastian starts to tease us a bit. one thing leads to another... w/ dirty talk. it might be good to add that seb is dressed as the devil and we dressed up as an angel *evil laughter* PLS AND TY

the way i sprunt to my laptop 🏃🏼‍♀️ YOU ALWAYS DO ME SO RIGHT BESTIE...

𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖇

summary: All Hallow's Eve brings out the evil streak in Sebastian Sallow.

warnings: 1.6k words, SMUT (18+), brief mentions of penetrative sex, angel/devil costumes, kinda religious ment?, fem reader/oc

a/n: i have no defense for this xx laney

Slosh.

“Ugh.”

Amber liquid splashed out of her goblet and onto her chin, and she recoiled at the unexpected sting of the liquor. The Ravenclaw couple that had muscled past and jostled her hadn’t noticed a single thing, too consumed in finding a free boys’ dormitory, presumably to study for that Potions exam they had next week. Their giggling made Sebastian roll his eyes.

“Children,” he muttered into his own glass of butterbeer. He looked over at her and saw she was trying to wipe the firewhisky from her face with only her fingers and began fumbling around his jacket. Producing a cream handkerchief, he passed it to her, and she sullied it with abandon. Her face once more clean, she frowned at the handkerchief as she handed it back to him.

She asked, “Couldn’t find a red one?” and Sebastian chuckled. He was clad in a borrowed, bright crimson ensemble of Weasley’s, though it far surpassed the typical vibrancy of the Gryffindor colors. 

It had been difficult enough for her to talk him into trekking up to the Ravenclaw common room just before midnight, let alone to convince him to actually wear a costume. “Come now, it’s All Hallow’s Eve, you have to wear something fun!”

“Well, what are you wearing?” he had asked, sourly, trying to look disinterested in the conversation and the tome he was flipping through.

“I found this old, white, sort of…” She’d scrunched up her nose and tried to find the right word to describe the gown she’d found shoved into a chest in an empty classroom one day. “Princess-y sort of thing. And I think I can cast an illuminating charm on the silver bangle Grace is lending me, and make it hover above my head…any guesses?” “Heavenly,” Sebastian had hummed. Her stomach twisted. 

And when he’d met her in the Entrance Hall that night, skipping lightly down the stairs in his red suit, ridiculous pitchfork in hand and some conjured horns twisting out of the top of his head, it had done several somersaults in a row. Fuck, she had thought, he shouldn’t look that nice, he really shouldn’t.

As the party continued raging around them, tipsy teens struggling to hold their alcohol shouting loudly over one another and the silly music playing on the phonograph, she tried to keep the glances she snuck at Sebastian surreptitious. She’d drunk too much already, she knew she had, but her lips were itching to say something stupid, so she busied them with another sip of whisky. Sebastian’s nose and cheeks were a light pink that was no doubt brought on by the few drinks he’d already had, and the portion of his chest she could see atop his vest, covered in light curls of chestnut hair, was flushed as well. Gods damn him, why hadn’t he worn a shirt underneath the suit? 

“Very risqué of you, you know,” she said, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and brushed a finger over his exposed collarbone. An electric shock coursed through her finger when she made contact and she yanked her hand away. Behind them, Amit Thakkar plunged his head into the icy bowl of water that he’d thrown several apples into. She hoped vaguely someone would pull him out before the lightweight drowned.

“Couldn’t I say the same of you?” he replied, but his voice was an octave deeper than she was used to, and when she met his eyes, she swore she saw flames spark to life. “You’d think I’d be used to extreme temperatures, being who I am, but bloody hell…you’re fucking blistering.” Seb tapped his glass against the side of his head, indicating the small devil’s horns, and ran his tongue across his upper teeth in a way that suggested he had a matching set of fangs. It made her knees knock together, even though she was seated. 

Drunk, he’s just drunk, that’s all, we both are. Still, the word “blistering” stuck to her just as Sebastian’s eyes did while she fidgeted from the tightness of her cherubic garb. And friends can flirt as much as they want when they’re drunk, can’t they?

She searched for something witty to say, but all her ideas went out the window when Sebastian leaned forward in his armchair so their legs were touching and said, “Want to go bob for apples?” A thousand horrible and corny lines thundered through her head and she clamped her jaw tight so nothing like “I can think of something else I’d rather get my mouth on” slipped out. 

“No, I just want another drink,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the din around them. “I’m starting to be able to think straight.” Sebastian grinned and nodded. He stood and she tried to avert her eyes from the inch of bare stomach she got to see when his vest rode up. Tried to. Sebastian grumbled something about having to wrestle the drinks away from the mad scientist brewing concoctions behind the massive end table that had been designated as the bar. 

She watched as he slunk away through the crowd and silkily slid up to the bar, swiping an untouched bottle of firewhisky while Garreth’s lab-coat-clad back was turned. He waved it in triumph across the room at her and a flare of courage allowed her to raise her index finger and crook it towards herself, mouthing “Come here, then.” Sebastian’s eyes went as large as the jack-o-lantern on the table next to her, and he practically tripped over a clump of Gryffindors on the ground playing spin the bottle as he fought his way back to her.

“Pour me a shot,” she instructed when he stood over her with the whisky. One more and I’m going to kiss this man, I really a–

Sebastian had other ideas.

He clamped the cork in his back teeth and ripped it out with a pop! “Open up, angel.” And before she could protest, the cold, glass neck of the bottle was slotted against her lips and he was tilting it forward, looking down at her with hazy eyes and a smirk. The whisky left a trail of flames down her throat that she didn’t notice, though her eyes watered. When she choked a little on the end of the shot, Sebastian pulled the bottle off, groaning as he did so, “Fuck me, I didn’t mean for that to be so…” 

Her breath caught in her chest. He turned away from her and took a swig from the bottle himself, and if he thought she didn’t notice the way he adjusted his trousers, swearing again under his breath, he was drunker than she was. Dropping back into the chair across from her, he tried to recover by shakily laughing.

“You’re going to lose your halo for that, little cherub.” “The devil made me do it, though,” she pouted back in a tease, but her fingers dug into the flesh on the top of her thigh in an attempt to distract herself from the arousal growing between her legs. As if matters couldn’t get worse, Sebastian huffed and set the bottle down before unbuttoning his vest. He mumbled that it was hot, really hot in here, but she didn’t hear a word of it, too invested in ogling him shamelessly, the same way he’d been eyeing her all evening. 

They both stared at each other for a good while, the noise from the party fading into nonexistence the longer they did so. Consequences suddenly seemed like something to be worried about at a later date. “What are they playing over there?” she asked, leaning around him to look at the Gryffindors Seb had almost trampled a minute ago.

He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Uh, spin the bottle, I think.”

“Oh!” She knew that already. Was very familiar with the game. “And what’s that?”

Ten minutes later, her dress lay, discarded, across some poor second year’s bunk, and Sebastian was mouthing his way from her neck down to her bare shoulder and her fingers were tangling in his hair while they lay on the cold ground. “Seb,” she gasped. Her hands met the horns on the crown of his head and she would have laughed, if his cock hadn’t pressed against her stomach, allowing her to feel how huge he was. As he pulled away, she saw that a pearl of pre-cum had been left behind, to decorate her as his.

“You’re so fucking sweet, perfect,” he muttered, grinding his hips down onto hers and making them both hiss and moan. “Almost a shame to corrupt this innocent little angel, but someone’s gotta do it, hm?” He reached over to the empty whisky bottle on the ground next to them and gave it a lazy spin. It wobbled for a few seconds then stopped, pointing aimlessly at a corner of the room. “Look at that. My turn again.” She squealed in delight as he once more attacked her mouth with a searing kiss that grew heavy and hot. They both tasted like whisky and sweets and it was making them even dizzier than they already were. “Seb,” she choked out once again. “Fuck me, please, just get inside me.” His hands were running up her legs, rough fingertips sending bolts of lightning through her body. Ever the tease.

“Christ,” Sebastian blasphemed with a grin. She let her head loll back while he kissed his way down her breasts and stomach, the hard bulge in his pants grinding onto her wet cunt. “I just want to ruin you. But I am having quite a bit of fun watching you squirm underneath me.” She whined. It had no effect on him. 

When his cock slipped into her, they both gasped. It hit a delicious, spongy spot inside her that made stars burst across her vision. He waited less than a second for her body to adjust to him before he was fucking her ruthlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead and off the end of his nose onto her. “You’re going to have to beg to be let back into heaven after this, my cherub. But, shit–” The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room, filth permeating the air. “–you feel too fucking good for this to be a sin.”

masterlist

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

HEYY!!

Just found your account and spent maybe a little too much time scrolling through the content here (i dont have a problem what are you talking about)

I was wondering if you could do the students (and possibly teachers) reaction to MC accidentally calling Fig dad?

c:

A/N: awwww yes! Father Figure Fig is best Fig!

HLC REACT TO MC CALLING PROFESSOR FIG "DAD"

MC was having lunch with their friends in the Great Hall. Professor Fig stopped by to give them a library book they needed for study. He had checked it out before them and promised to give it to them at the earliest convenience.

He sets it down next to MC and gives them, and their friends, a polite wave before walking away. He did not want to interrupt their conversation. As he steps away, he hears MC say "Thanks, Dad." behind him.

MC: They had a mouthful of food when they noticed the book and Fig. They wanted to thank him and hurriedly swallow their food to say so before he was too far away. They don't know where the dad part came from. They don't call anyone dad. It was entirely accidental. Their cheeks flush red with embarrassment and they wanted to disappear.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He raises an eyebrow. "Didn't know you two were related. Isn't he a bit old to be your dad?" He laughs at MC's fluster.

OMINIS GAUNT: "Shut up, Sebastian. It was clearly an accident. They've never mentioned parents before." He goes back to eating.

ANNE SALLOW: She kicks Sebastian under the table. "Fig can be their dad if MC wants him to be. He's one of the nicest professors at Hogwarts."

IMELDA REYES: She snorts at MC's freudian slip, and joins Sebastian in the taunting. "Bet that's not the first time they've done that."

NATSAI ONAI: She doesn't get what's so funny. If MC sees Fig as a father figure, they should be free to express it.

GARRETH WEASLEY: "Ha! You called Fig, dad. That's funny. Are you going to tell your real dad about it? ... Do you have a real dad?" He realized he never asked if MC had parents. The subject just never came up.

LEANDER PREWETT: He actually did a spit take from how unexpected MC's response was. Don't get him wrong, Fig is a good professor, but dad? Seems a bit much.

AMIT THAKKAR: "Out of all the professors here, Fig does make the most sense as a father figure. At least to you specifically, MC. He was your introduction to Hogwarts, was he not?"

EVERETT CLOPTON: He takes off his glasses and wipes off the pumpkin juice from Leander's spit take. He completely missed what MC said, so he's just annoyed that Leander sprayed him.

POPPY SWEETING: She laughs at Leander and Everett more than MC and the Slytherins. The whole situation didn't really phase her, she was just enjoying the vibes of the friend group.

ELEAZAR FIG: His heart. Oh, sweet Merlin, his heart. He didn't want to make a scene in the Great Hall so he kept walking like he hadn't heard them. When he thinks he's out of line of sight, he clutches his chest and nearly cries. Even if it was just an accident, he was overcome with emotion.

MATILDA WEASLEY: She and Mirabel were in the Great Hall's antichamber when Fig came out and clutched his chest. She thought he was having a heart attack. When he explains, she sighs with relief and shakes her head with a smile. MC and fig were practically inseparable, so this didn't surprise her too much.

MIRABEL GARLICK: She was ready to run to the hospital wing with Fig when he explained his situation. She's so happy for him. It makes her happy when a fellow professor does such a wonderful job with the students that they truly see the professors as parental figures more than just teachers.

[undercroft-files]

Recovery

Gif not mine

Various HL Characters & MC

Genre: Scenarios

Summary: After MC's daring solo fight with Ranrok and doing whatever they chose to do with the stored ancient magic, they were admitted into the hospital wing by some of the professors that found them. The nurse just now started allowing visitors, how do they all react?

Characters: Natsai Onai, Sebastian Sallow, Poppy Sweeting, Ominis Gaunt, Amit Thakkar, Eleazar Fig

Warnings: Mentions of cuts, bruises, and bandages but nothing out of place.

Natsai Onai

Once she heard about you being in the hospital wing and knowing you were allowed one visitor at a time, Natty didn't waste a second in seeing you. She knew about Ranrok and the ancient magic but a whole battle against Rankrok alone under Hogwarts definitely didn't sound pleasant.

The hospital wing was quiet, no one else seemed to be there at the time other than you. Natty immediately came to your side and hugged you, catching you off guard.

"I am so happy you are okay!" Natty exclaimed, clutching you around your waist.

"Ow...!" You grunted, your voice was hoarse and gravely from overuse.

"Oh! I apologize! Did I accidentally harm you?" Natty asked, becoming aware of her own strength and letting you go.

"You're okay, Natty. Thank you for coming to visit me." You said, your voice cracking a little from it being hoarse.

"Of course, MC. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure they were okay after what I heard you went through." Natty admitted, pulling one of the visitor's chairs closer to your bed and sitting down on it.

"Ah, so you know." You chuckled, a weak smile on your face.

"How could I not? Most people assumed you were expelled but I knew Black wouldn't actually do that after all the trouble he went through just to get you here." Natty said, hinting to the spreading rumors about you.

"Huh, you got a point..." You replied, your voice cracking again.

"You sound tired, why don't you get some more rest?" Natty offered, pulling some of your covers up for you.

"And miss out on seeing my friend when I need her most?" You replied, smiling at Natty.

"Trust me, MC. You will not be missing out on anything because I will remain here until I'm told otherwise. Get some rest, you deserve it." Natty almost commanded, helping you shift into a comfortable position for you to sleep.

Sebastian Sallow

He didn't even wait from word about where you were after the events of the goblin attack were confirmed, he just bolted to the hospital wing. Sebastian had a lot on his mind since you last talked to him, the events between him and what was left of his family shattering and you stayed by him, despite when he got difficult. He needed to talk to you.

The nurse almost didn't let him enter but you called out and told her that it was okay. Sebastian gave one final glare to the nurse before he rushed to your side, grabbing your hands and holding them in a comforting way.

"Are you okay? You look absolutely terrible." Sebastian stated, looking over all the markings of your face and arms.

"Well, I've definitely been better." You joked, smiling a little.

"You should've told me. I could've helped you." Sebastian said, sitting on the bed by your legs but never letting go of your hands.

"No, Sebastian. It would've been useless. Professor Fig was with me but I told him to leave because it was too dangerous for him, I would've told you the same if you were there. Besides, you had your own things to worry about—"

"No, no, no, don't say that. You've done so much for me this year that most people wouldn't have been able to accomplish in a single year, the least I could've done was protect you." Sebastian said, his grip slightly getting tighter but not overbearing.

"I'm fine, really." You tried to push away his concerns but he insisted.

"Fine? MC, have you looked at yourself? Your arms are covered in bandages, you basically look like a mummy! If that's your definition of 'Fine' then I'm deeply concerned for you." Sebastian confronted, causing you to give me a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I just didn't want anymore trouble nor did I want to risk losing someone I care about." You admitted, giving a small smile.

"I forgive you, just promise me next year won't be as dangerous as this one? I appreciate adventure, but not death wishes." Sebastian joked, causing you to laugh a bit.

Poppy Sweeting

"MC! Are you okay?!" Poppy greeted, rushing to your side at the hospital wing.

"Yeah, just a bit bruised." You admitted, smiling to Poppy.

"Don't ever do that again! From now on, I'm gonna make sure Highwing always has her eyes on you because you're just so... so—reckless!" Poppy exclaimed, her worries and care pouring out like word vomit.

Poppy had more to say but you didn't want to interrupt her in her worried rants, so you just listened with a smile on your face. She finished with an exaggerated sigh, her lungs trapping a bit of air at the beginning of her rant that needed to be let out.

"Feel better now?" You joked, seeing her calm down.

"A bit, I'll be way better once you're well enough to leave the hospital wing." Poppy admitted, sighing a little.

"Couldn't agree more." You stated, smiling brightly.

Ominis Gaunt

Word about the goblin attack spread through the school and surrounding areas like wildfire, everyone's talked about it at least once. Ominis knew you had some quarrels with a goblin named Ranrok and knew the dangers that came with it and he didn't question that you played a major part in defending Hogwarts.

Sebastian was the one to inform Ominis about you being in the hospital wing but that you hadn't woken up yet, so it felt only right to check on you, even if you didn't know he was there.

Ominis used Floo Powder to get to the hospital wing to make travel easier and located you from his wand, still unconscious. He sighed a little before sitting down in a nearby chair, waiting for either you to wake up or for the nurse to tell him it was time to go.

He wished you stayed mostly out of trouble when you got here or at least only worried about the goblin issues, sensing the bandages on you made Ominis have the feeling that if him and Sebastian had been more reckless when you helped them that this would've happened sooner.

Ominis heard you shuffle a little in your bed and tensed up a bit, trying to hear if you were awake or not.

"Ominis...?" You asked, answering his question.

"Hi," Ominis paused, not really knowing what to say. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just got attacked by a magical dragon." You chuckled, causing Ominis to give you a more concerning look than he already had. "Sorry..."

"Don't apologize, you did what you had to do." Ominis paused again, he's not used to comforting people or being comforted so he really didn't know what to say. He gently found your hand and held it. "I'm just glad you made it out alive."

You smiled, Ominis had always been nice to you unless he was upset but somehow managed to forgive you easily. You know you and Ominis got off on a lot of wrong starts but tried to make it up whenever you could, like if you saw his struggling in potions, you'd help him.

"Thank you, Ominis." You said with a smile, gently squeezing his hand.

Ominis smiled, "Just promise to not get into as much trouble in the future, you got lucky this time, I wouldn't test it again."

You chuckled, agreeing with him.

Amit Thakkar

He was anxious all morning during breakfast because he had heard of what to you the night prior, he wanted to see you but knew it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught when he didn't want to be. Finally, after leaving the Great Hall, he hurried to the hospital wing to find you quietly eating something yourself.

"Oh, hello Amit." You greeted, seeing him approach you.

"MC, what happened? Are you okay?" Amit asked, sitting down in a chair next to your bed.

"Well, goblins happened. Hopefully, I gave them enough of a scare that they decide to never mess around with Hogwarts again, and yes, I'm okay." You explained, smiling a bit.

"I've been so worried since I heard about the rumors of the goblin attack. I knew you were trying to keep them from whatever they were looking for but I was hoping they were just rumors." Amit admitted, sighing a little.

"Honestly, I'd have wished the same thing. It's over now, though. There will still be a nasty goblin here and there but they seem like a pesky bug now after I fought Ranrok." You joked, smiling to Amit.

Amit chuckled, finding a weird sense of admiration from your bravery. "I guess fighting a goblin who had been using wizard magic makes everything else seem like an assignment for school." Amit agreed, smiling back at you.

He decided to stay as long as he could with you as good company, some of your other friends came to visit and bring you gifts but he never left.

Eleazar Fig

He had been the one that carried your unconscious body to the hospital wing after you collapse from the powerful fight Ranrok gave you and from keeping that ancient magic from branching out where it doesn't belong. You had told him to run to safety after Ranrok destroyed the crate the magic was concealed in, he hated the idea of leaving a student he cared for in the jaws of potential death but he had no other choice.

He helped the other professors fight the goblins that came before rushing back to check on you, finding Ranrok dead, the magic concealed once more, and your body motionless on the ground. He expected the worst but didn't give up hope, he knew you could pull through.

After the nurse patched up your wounds and gave you a bed to rest in, Fig spent all his time by your side. He had a few cuts and bruises on himself that he got taken care of as well but never left you out of his sight for too long, not wanting to miss when you woke up again.

Hours passed, maybe even a full day passed before you slowly opened your eyes. Fig's attention was brought back to reality when he heard you sigh and saw your hand instinctively rub your eye.

"Professor...?" You asked, your voice raspy from the battle.

"I'm here, it's alright. You're in the hospital wing, Ranrok is dead, and the ancient magic has been concealed. You've done it." Fig smiled, gently taking the hand you weren't using and holding it.

"How long...?" You began but trailed off, finding it hard to use your words.

"You haven't been out long. Maybe a day, but I was expecting you to be resting longer." Fig admitted, gently brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

You hummed in response, letting Fig know you heard him. Words became something nearly impossible for you to use as tiredness and the weight of your body needing healing overpowered you.

"Rest, MC. Merlin knows you deserve it after all you've done." Fig said, seeing how exhausted you still were.

You nodded before letting yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber, the most peaceful you've had in a long time. Fig smiled before he leaned back in the chair he was sitting on, thinking to himself, 'I could use some shut eye too.'

[hannahlikeso741]

What perfumes do the HL boys wear, by a complete perfume lover who is not an expert.

Hello there. I have been inactive for too long. Ever since my label as a scent witch by @pandanscafanfiction and being bullied by @tennoujinerin to post this, here it is. What perfumes I think the HL boys would wear:

I know I have done this before but after some revision and seeing how each character has been developed, lo and behold my new choices.

Sebastian Sallow:

Ah, the one who stole our hearts at first when we played the game. I chose Cedarwood as his main scent note for it's association with healing and death. Sebastian is an all rounder, not the type to have multiple bottles, one scent will do the job. Burberry's Hero, YSL's La Nuit De La Homme and Margiela Replica's Whispers in the Library (I chose this on purpose) have Cedarwood as it's note

Ominis Gaunt:

Ominis is upper class but it doesn't strike me as someone who wants to shout his status. It is a kind of scent that is subtle but you know it comes from the upper class. For that I chose Leather fragrances as it usually wears slowly on the skin, but on the right person it comes across as a quiet strong person. Gucci's Guilty Absolute, Dior's Fahrenheit and Margiela Replica's Jazz club are a great reflection of this.

Garreth Weasley:

As a potioneer who relies on his nose a lot, Garreth wouldn't see the point of wearing perfume. At best he would just need something that smells clean and fresh, but I added some citrusy notes for his fun loving nature. For that Chanel's Allure Homme Sport and Dior Homme Cologne would do the trick. To get is attention, choose a scent that sits close to the skin in an almost intimate level that would turn his head, such as Margiela Replica's Lazy Sunday Morning.

Leander Prewett:

For Leander I actually went for "Annoying" fragrances at first but seeing how he has been developed into the fandom, I rearranged for scents that are fresh with a twist. I wanted something that comes across as a people pleaser but there is the note that you can't put your nose to it (It's Rosemary) that makes you take a second sniff. For that, Armani's Aqua Di Gio Porfumo, Bvlgari's Aqva pour Homme and Issey Miyake's Fusion d'Issey are my picks.

Amit Thakkar:

I really wanted to pay homage to India for Amit, as India is the land where scents are used quite frequently in daily life. I chose a sandalwood perfume (Diptyque's Tam Dao) for it's usage in the worship of the Hindu Gods and Goddess, Cardamom (D&G The One) for it's usage in food and Saffron ( Penhaligon's Babylon) for the colour worn by Hindu Priests ( it symbolic of Sunsets/Sunrise and healing, apparently).

Andrew Larson:

I am amazed at the headcanons for Andrew but I digress he doesn't smell like herbs. Instead I chose Juniper Berries! Is this an odd choice? Of course, but considering it's freshness yet spicy notes with medicinal properties (not to mention it being found in most parts of the globe) it is a timeless scent. I tried my best to find scents that are light, something not too strong as it will need to sit close to the skin. Take a peek with Blvgari's Glacial Essence, Gucci's Guilty Cologne Pour Homme and Penhaligon's Juniper Sling.

[adalinda-selwyn]

𝑨𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒘𝒚𝒏

⚘ The Heroine of Hogwarts ⚘

𓆩⟡𓆪 Basic Info 𓆩⟡𓆪

Name: Adalinda Marie Selwyn, although she pronounces her name more like Adalin (Ah-duh-lin). Her most popular nickname is Ada (Ah-duh)

Title(s): The Heroine of Hogwarts

Birthday: March 12th, 1875

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Ethnicity: British and Chinese

𓆩⟡𓆪 Appearance 𓆩⟡𓆪

Hair Style: Slightly wavy hair, usually worn down but sometimes put in a makeshift ponytail, especially in tense situations

Hair Color: Dark brown, almost black

Eye Color: Dark brown

Skin Tone: Warm beige

Body Type: Slightly toned from running around protecting the Scottish Highlands

Height: 5’4” or around 163 cm

Clothing Style: Dresses practically in the sense that skirts are off limits when planning on taking down any enemies. Enjoys wearing skirts and cute outfits. Otherwise, will wear anything she finds in order to make a bizarre outfit for her own amusement.

Accessories:

Always wears her necklace with its emerald pendant

When she wears gloves, they are black and preferably fingerless so she can still firmly grip her wand

𓆩⟡𓆪 Magic 𓆩⟡𓆪

Blood Status: Unknown

House: Slytherin

Wand: Hornbeam, Dragon Heartstring, Surprisingly Swishy, Twelve and a half inches

Special Ability: Ancient magic - mostly known by others because of the thunderstorms she can summon

Patronus: Nightjar

Polyjuice: Clearspring green, tastes like a mix of lemongrass and mint

Amortentia: Chamomile, Freshly cut lilacs, Nectarine, Old books

Boggart: Jeers, or even worse, silence of loved ones directed at her from cloaked figure(s)

𓆩⟡𓆪 Academics 𓆩⟡𓆪

Best subject: DADA

Favorite subject: DADA and COMC

Favorite teacher: Hecat, Sharp, and Garlick

Worst subject: Divination

Least favorite subject: Transfiguration and History of Magic

Least favorite teacher: Binns

As a student:

Almost always arrives just in the nick of time

Somehow balanced saving the Wizarding World and schoolwork during fifth-year

Teacher’s pet despite not trying to be one (it's because she always wants to show the professor her appreciation for them, so she thanks them after every lesson)

𓆩⟡𓆪 Personality 𓆩⟡𓆪

Traits: Compassionate, loyal, protective, strategic, resilient, self-sacrificing, energetic (due to either too much or not enough sleep), sarcastic (rudely sarcastic when upset), rash (when already angry), “motherly”, overbearing, overthinker

Likes: Winter (as long as she’s bundled up, otherwise it’s Fall/Autumn), sleeping (despite lacking it basically 24/7), sweets or food in general (put anything in front of her and she will practically inhale it), cooking, reading, watching the sky, playing the piano, lighting things on fire, dueling Sebastian, hyping up her friends

Dislikes: Seeing her loved ones upset or in pain, smelling/feeling dirty, roaches, flies (she will go out of her way to kill it, same thing applies for mosquitos)

Fears: Being abandoned, becoming bad, roaches (will kill it but freak out while doing so)

MBTI: ISFJ-T (The Defender)

Zodiac: Pisces sun, taurus moon, sagittarius ascending

𓆩⟡𓆪 Relationships 𓆩⟡𓆪

Parents: Mr. Selwyn and Mrs. Selwyn (Presumed dead) (No, her dad is not Silvanus Selwyn)

Relatives: None were ever mentioned

Paternal Figure: Professor Fig (Deceased)

Love Interest: She needs time to sort out her own life before getting around to her love life.

Friends (in chronological order from first to most recent): Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow, Natsai (Natty) Onai, Lucan Brattleby, Garreth Weasley, Poppy Sweeting, Amit Thakkar, Adelaide Oakes, Imelda Reyes (took a second to warm up to her), Leander Prewett (didn't like him for a hot minute)

Acquaintances (in closeness from first to last): Anne Sallow, Lenora Everleigh, Nellie Oggspire, Samantha Dale, Nerida Roberts, Arthur Plummly, Richard Jackdaw

Pet(s): Tayla (and any magical creature rescued that really doesn't want to go back into nature)

Tayla is a tawny owl that was formerly the school's

Around turning 13 weeks old, she watched Adalinda barge into the Owlery to find field guide pages

Tayla followed Adalinda out and around the school. When Adalinda realized Tayla wouldn't leave, she got permission from (passionately begged) Professor Fig to keep and name her

[omnibused]

✮ ✵ ✭ Audio Masterlist ✭ ✵ ✮

Organized by Character, followed by Rating

❤️ - fluff, romantic // 💙 - could be platonic, could lean romantic [at the discretion of the listener] // 💛 - humor, silliness // 🧡 - based on a submitted request // 💜 - NSFW topics mentioned or referenced, but not explicit // 💚 - Extended audio with multiple sound elements [warnings in individual posts] // 🖤 - Potentially triggering topics mentioned or referenced // 💕 - made for an individual character, or references a specific piece of work //🔞 - NSFW

Currently Available Characters: Amit Thakkar, Ominis Gaunt, Poppy Sweeting, Professor Aesop Sharp, Sebastian Sallow

Links below the cut. Working desperately to add more characters. All audios are made for gender-neutral listeners unless otherwise specified - made to be enjoyed by everyone.

Ominis

Ominis Adores Your Honesty - ❤️💙💕 [Original dialogue, from an unfinished fic]

Ominis Recites Love Poetry - ❤️

"It's so dark down here, I can't see anything!" - 💛

Ominis Muses on Your Future Together - ❤️

Protective Ominis - ❤️

Ominis Would Bring the World to Ruin, For You - ❤️

Ominis Serenades You on Piano - ❤️

Ominis Comforts You After a Nightmare - ❤️🖤

Ominis Comforts You in The Undercroft - ❤️💙💚

Cozy Ambiance, With Ominis - ❤️🧡💚

"...perhaps, I'll grant your wish." - ❤️🔞

"Oh, what a pity..." - ❤️🔞

Snuggly Praise and Aftercare, with Ominis - ❤️🧡💜🔞

Sebastian

"It's so dark down here, I can't see anything!" - 💛

"I would burn this world for you." - ❤️🧡

Jealous Sebastian - ❤️💛

Sebastian Comforts You After a Nightmare - ❤️🖤

Cozy Ambiance, With Sebastian - ❤️💚

Sebastian Being Thankful to Lina - ❤️💕

Sebastian Misses Lina - ❤️💕

"Ah, the most ancient of magics!" - 💛🧡

"You're telling me no part of you wants that again?" - 💕🔞

"Ugh, shut up Zenobia..." - 💛🧡

"I will ruin you." - 🧡🔞

Snuggly Praise and Aftercare, with Sebastian - ❤️🧡💜🔞

Poppy

Poppy's Confession - ❤️🧡

[ravenquills]

The View Can Wait | Amit Thakkar x MC

summary - You and Amit share a tender moment walking back to Hogwarts after an outing to Hogsmeade

warnings - fluff, drabble, GN!MC

notes - first time ever posting my writing :S sincerest thanks to miles for supporting and encouraging me

word count - 610

Amit strolled alongside you, arms linked, occasionally nodding and humming in response as you chattered about everything and anything that came to mind. He found your voice soothing and your way of speaking charming, so sitting back and simply listening to you ramble was one of his favorite activities. In turn, when it came to things he was really passionate about—like Astronomy or Gobbledegook, or Mooncalves as of late—he became the talker and you—the listener.

Breathing warm air on your mittened hands, you mumbled, “I can’t believe that Cornish wizard bred another creature.”  The audacity of the repeat offender was  astounding. “Honestly, I think they should fund him. Who knows what kind of new species might come out of this.” 

Amit nodded as he glanced over at you and let out an affirmative hum. It was a simple exchange, but to an attentive lover like you, it came across as more like: That wizard is out of his mind, but he is a genius.

After a short lull filled with the calming sounds of nature winding down for the night and your footsteps on the cobbled path back from Hogsmeade, you chimed in. “So how far are you into your astrolog-” 

“Astro-no-my, my star...”  Amit tilted his head and glanced sidelong at you, gently correcting you. He lost count of how often you’d made this mistake. At first, he dismissed it as a common slip. Plenty of others mixed the two up; it was understandable. But months into your relationship? One part of him thought you were just being playful and turned this into an inside joke. Another part wondered if you were genuinely confused. Either way, he didn’t have the heart to be upset with you over it. 

“Go on, you were saying?” He chuckled softly, his breath a visible puff of air in the crisp autumn evening. Noticing the way you went quiet at his interruption, he felt a pang of anxiety, worried he might have upset you. But you continued in your usual bubbly manner, allowing Amit to let out a subtle sigh of relief. 

“Did anything in particular catch your attention yet?” “Plenty,” he replied, pulling his hand out of his pockets and wrapping his arm around your waist. “But I think that can wait until we’re back inside.” You looked up at him and tilted your head quizzically. Without you saying a word, Amit sensed your confusion and blurted out, gesturing with his head to the side, “I think we could just enjoy the view for now!” At the mention of the ‘view’, you turned to look in the direction he indicated. Completely unaware, you two stumbled onto the little sitting area with benches and streetlights overlooking Hogwarts. There it stood, breathtaking and grand against a backdrop of a starry sky. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen the skies this clear; a rare treat this rainy autumn. Amit had been in low spirits all term, missing his stargazing sessions. Hence why you gifted him the book you mentioned earlier. It wasn’t even out on bookshelves yet! Courtesy of your good friend Ominis and his family’s connections.

As you admired the castle, Amit melted at the sight of your eyes twinkling with awe. A warm smile spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice airy and gentle in your ear. 

You giggled softly, nestling closer to his chest. “I love you too,” you murmured back, your voice muffled by his coat. The view of the castle, magnificent as it was, faded into the background…

[lostmyremembrall]

Hogwarts Legacy Accurate to Victorian Era Pt. 2

Thank you so so much for the lovely response to my first one! I'm so happy that you enjoyed it. This was just supposed to be a one-off, but here is part 2!

Read Pt. 1 !

Warning for brief mentions of: Dissection. Gore. Sex and lust. Antiquated ideas. Cannibalism. All the good stuff.

Simple Solution for an Injury

Complex injury? Amputate it!

No Anesthesia. No antibiotics.

Have fun going into shock from the pain.

Survived the surgery? Have fun with the post-surgery infection.

Ominis taking one glance at Sebastian's broken leg.

Ominis: "Lose the leg."

Sebastian: "Wait, no. Hold on, we can just use episkey-"

MC: *already raising an axe with a psychotic grin*

MC: "Sorry, Sebastian. Your lovely leg will be sorely missed!"

Cereal for Proper Gentlemen

Cereal is just becoming popularised, more so in America.

Most importantly, it's considered a proper thing to eat for gentlemen since, apparently, it has the effect of keeping your urges at bay.

Sebastian and Garreth always feel they need cereal to keep themselves in check. So they usually begin their day by eating two full bowls of cereal.

Ominis and Amit would eat cereal once in a while.

But strangely, when you sit next to them, you find them reaching for a box of cereal and burying their heads into the bowl, refusing to meet your eyes and their cheeks bright red.

We Party Like It's 1890

Victorians loved the macabre and the exoticism. The best parties were considered the dissection of Egyptian mummies.

Garreth Weasley, knows how to party.

And also happens to know a man who can get him an Egyptian mummy.

The whole school erupts into an excited buzz when they hear of a party being held by Weasley.

How he manages to afford an Egyptian mummy at such a great price, you ask?

If you ask Garreth, he'd say it's thanks to his winning charm.

If you ask Ominis, it's because he's being swindled with some "third-rate corpse dug somewhere from Whitechapel."

Having attended a few of those parties himself back home, Ominis apparently can tell the difference between a real mummy vs. a fabricated one.

----

Garreth Weasley rolls up his sleeves, and dramatically flourishes his wand to begin the demonstration.

But, contrary to his boasting, he is quite shit with anatomy and maintaining steady hands.

Amit Thakkar is driven mad to no end at these parties, though he always comes begrudgingly.

He chooses to come because Garreth will literally drag Amit to his party.

But also because Amit naively believes every time that he might be able to teach Garreth a thing or two about anatomy.

Garreth has not failed to disappoint Amit every time so far.

"Agh, Garreth! You've spliced the superior vena cava!"

"Patience now, Amit. A delicate artform such as this takes great skill and control of one's wand-"

Garreth's hand slips, proceeding to stab the heart with the tip of his wand.

"Ah. Shit... Well. That's that."

"No matter." As Garreth wipes his wand on a tablecloth. "Now who wants to try my newest butterbeer!?"

That is usually when the party comes to an abrupt end as everyone rushes to the door.

Cure for All: Egyptian Mummies

Victorians engaging in straight-up Cannibalism

Ground-up mummies from Egypt are sold as a cure for all.

Sebastian, unfortunately, hears this rumour.

The next day, he's selling it in the corridor as a "Miracle Powder: 100% High-Quality Egyptian Mummies - Straight from the Tomb of Pharaohs"

Anne is in on it.

The local population of Inferi have significantly dwindled ever since.

But soon enough, not even Inferi are enough for his demanding supply.

There have been recent headlines in the Daily Prophet of the alarming number of grave robberies. Wizards. Goblins. House-elves. No one is safe.

Ominis: "Really, Sebastian? Grave robbing?"

Sebastian: "It's called procuring the merchandise, Ominis. Clearly, something you don't understand as someone who hadn't had to work a day of his life."

Sebastian boasting about his knack for business.

One night, Sebastian shows up in front of you with two shovels on his shoulders.

MC: "Grave robbing?"

Sebastian: "Grave robbing."

MC: "Should we dig up Uncle Solomon?"

Sebastian, taking way too long to consider: "... Nah. Anne would kill me for it."

MC: "At least that would get us two bodies."

The Beginning of a Business Relation with Garreth

There was one time when Prof Weasley got suspicious of Garreth���s outlandish plans, leaving him unable to retrieve the entertainment for the party that he’d already planned.

"Come on, Sallow. My reputation is at stake."

"Word tells me you can fetch me a mummy, yes?"

Sebastian, being the savvy businessman that he is, strokes his chin.

"I can. But it will cost you."

The whole school will remember that horrendous night, when the mummy mysteriously came back to life, and began attacking the students, the whole room erupting into chaos.

"It's the Pharaoh's Curse!" Duncan Hobhouse wails. "I knew I should've never come!"

Ominis growls about Duncan always complaining, and being too much of a coward to do anything.

Ominis: "Perhaps we sacrifice Puffskein Dunkein to the mummy. We’d feign an accident off school grounds. Nobody needs to know."

"I have it all under control," Sebastian shouts to Garreth.

As he continues to blast Confringo non-stop at the inferi in mid-panic.

----

To support Sebastian's growing business, you are in charge of harvesting Inferi and bodies for Sebastian. But Garreth is in charge of the processing.

Ever since the fiasco at the party, Garreth forgave Sebastian and joined in to assist with the processing part.

Garreth says he’s forgiven Sebastian. But he now takes 55% of the cut.

These days, you can find the two in the Undercroft, testing out the newest solution.

The Mad Scientist and The Merchant of Death.

Round goggles. Rolled up sleeves.

A thick pungent smell of whatever solution Garreth came up to quicken the mummification process.

How lovely.

Ominis is not happy.

----

If MC is extremely progressive, they'd disapprove of mummy dissection parties and comment to Garreth about the colonial mindset behind parties like this.

For weeks, Garreth is depressed and remorseful.

From then on, the Egyptian Mummy is replaced with a fake from Sallows, Co.

Ugliness

Victorians believed that loveless marriage and sex led to their children being born ugly.

Sebastian loves taunting Leander Prewett along this line of thought.

"Hey Prewett, guess where I was last night?"

Leander rolls his eyes. "Let me guess. My mother's?"

"You're quick this morning, I see. Your mother told me she's never loved your father."

Leander grows bright red, glaring. "Don't you dare, Sallow."

Sebastian with a smirk: "Solved at least one mystery. The reason why you look like a leper."

Leander explodes, warranting Sebastian a number of hexes and detention for both of them.

Source:

-The Astonishingly Slow Progress Towards Surgical Anesthesia -What People Ate to Survive the Victorian Era -Mummy Parties -The Gruesome History of Eating Corpses as Medicine

[helenadurazzo]

1, 2 and 6 please?

Thanks for the ask! For the sake of simplicity I will keep these brief and with minimal spoilers

1. Hogwarts Legacy: Ominis Gaunt

I know a lot of people when asked who their favorite HL character is will either say Sebastian or Ominis and I am one of those people. Ominis has such a fascinating story and motivations and I just want to give him a hug most of the time for what he has to deal with. For those who don’t know I do also have a story for Ominis where he finds happiness and ends up having two daughters, one of which who ends up with the son of my HL MC.

After Ominis my favorite Hogwarts Legacy character is Amit Thakkar

2. Hogwarts Mystery: Erika Rath

I will always stand by my claim that Erika is the better version of Merula Snyde (which I am not sure if it’s an unpopular opinion or not but I don’t really care). Since my MC is a Ravenclaw I like to always get pictures of Slytherin!Erika Rath and I always end up running into my own screenshots in the process such as this one. I wish we got to see more of her outside of the quidditch storyline, although I do enjoy the fact that she does end up playing for the Holyhead Harpies which was a headcanon of mine for the longest time.

After Erika my next favorite character in Hogwarts Mystery is likely Talbott Winger

3. Percy Jackson: Thalia Grace

Out of the three here this is probably the one that was not very obvious. For those who don’t know, Thalia is the daughter of Zeus who is first mentioned in the Lightning Thief and makes a physical appearance in the following book. When I first read the Percy Jackson series my favorite book was and probably always will be the Titan’s Curse, which Thalia features in prominently. I always loved her punk style and how she ends up joining the Hunters of Artemis by the end of the third book.

After Thalia when it comes to specifically the first five books, my next favorite character is Clarisse La Rue

[catohphm]

Welcome to my first Hogwarts Legacy fan fiction! In this story, we will explore my MC Danny's first day at Hogwarts and the drama between him and the headmaster that took place during it, as well as the following aftermath.

Tagging some mutuals who encouraged me to write this @carewyncromwell, @boxdstars, @charmedslytherin, @alsopartgekkos and @danceworshipper

Dear Bands Against the Darkness

-

Rays of morning sunlight cast through the windows of a dormitory in the Ravenclaw tower. Sharing the dorm were a handful of first year Ravenclaw boys. Among them were Daniel Gibson, Amit Thakkar and Andrew Larson. The night before, they had gotten along and became friends over their excitement to learn and exchanged what subjects they anticipated studying the most. It was certain they would be attending several classes together as housemates.

Danny awakened from a peaceful slumber.

"Morning, Amit." he greeted his friend who sleeps in the bed next to him. "Good morning to you, Danny." he replied in a calming voice. "Slept alright, I hope?"

"Yeah," said Danny. "These beds are really comfortable. Yourself" His friend smiled and nodded "Nice to hear, me too. Agree with you in fact," Amit added "it's easy to relax and fall asleep in one of them."

Andrew then woke up. "Good morning lads! I cannot wait to start my classes this morning." he said.

"Morning, I want to see what they're doing for herbology." Danny commented with a smile.

Amit turned to face the blonde-haired boy. "Good morning to you, Andrew. Hopefully you slept well last night?"

He nodded "I did, yeah. Any classes you're excited for, Amit?"

"Definitely Astronomy. I love looking through the telescopes and studying star maps."

"Flying for me," remarked Andrew. "I want to join Quidditch."

Danny leaned and looked at him with a curious face. "You know that quidditch is for second years and up only, Andrew?"

Amit nodded in agreement with Danny but he was intrigued still. "What's the position you would like to try out for?"

After a few seconds with his hands on his chin, Andrew answered "Maybe a chaser, perhaps. I still have a year to decide."

"I wouldn't worry about it now. I would suggest watching the games as they come. How about this? We'll go together as a group since we're Ravenclaws."

"Sure Amit, I'd be glad." Andrew grinned. His roommate then turned to Danny. "Do you want to join us when we go watch the games?"

Danny paused but then blurted out "I mean I'd be happy to join you and Andrew at Quidditch. It sounds pretty fun."

"Great to hear." declared Amit "We should get ready for our classes now."

Eventually, the boys were all cleaned up and donning brand new Ravenclaw uniforms in place of their pajamas. They were of the same design as the plain robes they wore while being sorted. However the inner layer of the robe was blue instead of black. It was complimented by a matching blazer, trousers, a shirt and tie with a beautiful pattern of blue and bronze stripes. Ravenclaw house patches were on the robe, vest and blazer.

Amit looked into the mirror. “This is quite a beautiful set of garments.” A surprised Danny commented “Wow, I can’t remember if or whenever I wore something nice like this.” Andrew said “Whoever designed these uniforms knew what they were doing. A famous school like Hogwarts has to have quality uniforms.”

The boys were all in agreement about the looks of their school garb. They gathered their bags and made their way out into the common room.

Out in the rotunda of the tower that was the Ravenclaw common room, they ran into one of the girls in their year, Samantha Dale. Danny had met her their first night at the castle, where they struck up a conversation about their excitement for potions and herbology. They both had mentioned having a younger brother yet that part of their exchange was brief.

“Good morning lads. Hello Danny. Slept well I’m hoping?” Samantha greeted them. “Hello Samantha, I did,” nodded Danny. “hope the same for you?” She affirmed “surely I did. Can’t wait to see you around the greenhouses later on. I’m excited about that.”

“Me too, It will be a pleasure having you there.” Danny remarked.

Samantha turned to Amit and introduced herself “My name’s Samantha Dale, you can just call me Samantha.”

Bowing his head quickly forward “I’m Amit, Amit Thakkar. Greetings to you, Samantha. Hope you are well.”

“Certainly.” replied Samantha. “It’s nice to meet you, Amit.” The boy smiled “Pleasure. You know Danny, the other one is Andrew.

“Larson. Andrew Larson. I’m just called Andrew. Happy to meet you, Samantha. How are you today?” he asked the Ravenclaw girl.

“Doing quite alright.” she said positively.

With the introductions in order, Andrew pulled out his schedule. “Our first class of the day is charms. We ought to get moving.”

The group of four then headed out of their common room on their way to class.

-

Leaving early to catch their first class, the four Ravenclaws were already well on their way to the Charms classroom. Along the way they encountered a Gryffindor boy, Garreth Weasley. He was in their year.

“Hey, Danny! How was your first night here at Hogwarts?”

“Hey, Garreth. My night was great. I slept pretty soundly. What about you?”

“It was good.” Garreth replied “My roommates are alright, Leander seems like a nice fellow, if a bit nervous.”

“Leander?” Danny asked. “Leander Prewett. He’ll be sharing some classes with us.”

Amit then stepped in “I’m Amit by the way. I share a dormitory with Danny. Good to meet you, Garreth.”

Confidently, Garreth returned the greeting. “Nice to meet you as well Amit! Who are those two Ravenclaws with you and Danny?”

“They are Andrew and Samantha. Andrew and Samantha, this is Garreth Weasley. He is a friend of Danny.”

“Yeah, we both live in Devon. Not too far from each other.” Danny commented.

Andrew and Samantha exchanged platitudes with the Gryffindor.

Garreth smiled. “It’s a wonder to meet you all. My aunt sent me to find Danny. She’s the deputy headmistress and will be our transfiguration teacher.”

Curiously, Danny asked “Why did Matilda send you for me?”

“She wants to have a chance to talk with you before your first lesson. Let’s go, she’s waiting by the Charms classroom.”

The Gryffindor boy led them through the hallways to the entrance of the classroom. Out by the door was Professor Mathilda Weasley. She looked professional yet motherly, stern but assuring.

“Thank you for bringing Mr. Gibson here, Mr. Weasley.” Although the teacher was the aunt of Garreth, it was still proper for them to address each other formally since they were in Hogwarts.

“Of course, professor. He came here with some friends from Ravenclaw.”

The professor looked back and forth at the five kids before speaking to Danny. “I see. Good morning Mr. Gibson. I am glad to see that you are making some new friends here at Hogwarts. Your mother did right by getting you here. I helped her out with that.”

“Thank you, Professor Weasley. Garreth and my housemates have been nice to me.”

“I am pleased to hear that. The headmaster has been riding up and down on his own game. I can’t say I trust him to run this school, but as Deputy Headmistress I do try my best to ensure it remains safe and stable for students to learn.”

“We’ll do our best to make it through this together, Danny.” agreed Garreth.

The bell rang. Amit told Danny as he, Andrew and Samantha went into the classroom “We’ll let you three finish up. Find us once you’re done.” Danny nodded “Okay.”

“Well I must get back to my classroom now. I got students to teach. If Professor Black or anyone else here gives you grief, you can come by my office next to my classroom on the ground floor. It’s always open if you want to come in and talk about anything.”

With a nod, Danny replied “I appreciate that, Professor. Again, thank you.”

“Best of luck on your first day of classes to you both.” the professor said happily. “See you in Transfiguration.” She finished. Danny and Garreth said their goodbyes then Professor Weasley departed for her classroom.

Left by themselves, Garreth expressed to his friend from home “I’m glad she’s here with us, Danny. My aunt can feel strict and overarching sometimes but she cares a lot for us and this school.”

“I can certainly agree too, Garreth.” Danny replied. “You, Matilda, Amit, Samantha. There’s some good people here.”

“Right. We must be in the classroom with us though.” said Garreth.” No need to lose house points for being late.”

The boys went into the Charms classroom and found their seats. Danny joined Amit, Samantha and Andrew while Garreth went and took a seat by Leander and the other Gryffindors in his year.

-

Later that day, Danny and his group were on their way to Magical Theory taught by Professor Fig. He heard his name abruptly get called out in a deep, booming male voice. “Gibson!”

Panicked, he shouted “What?” and dashed away from his friends without another word, leaving them in shock and confusion.

Amit, Samantha, Andrew and Garreth all had worried looks on their faces as Danny went to the man that called for him. The man shouted at them “Off to class with you lot!” They had no choice but to keep going. It was no question that this man was Phineas Nigellus Black, the headmaster of Hogwarts. He was tall, tough and imposing, with jet black hair, a handlebar mustache and wide goatee. Profesor Black wore a long overcoat and towered over many of the students like a hawk.

The headmaster then turned to Danny. “Follow me. We need to have an important conversation. Do not even delay.”

He led a confused Danny to an empty classroom and forcefully shut the door. “Take a seat, Mr. Gibson.”

“What did I even d-” Professor Black rudely cut Danny off before proclaiming. “No questions. Sit down!”

The boy rushed to take a seat at one of the front desks in front of the blackboard. The headmaster leaned and grasped the front end of the desk with his hands, glaring straight at Danny.

“Let’s get straight to business. When I learned that you were from America I expected you to share the belief that we are above all others. Then I realized who you truly are. You and your mother came here with just the clothes on your backs. No galleon to your name. Father is missing. The kind of people that will never amount to anything in life!” Professor Black banged his hand on the desk as Danny stayed fearfully silent.

He continued. “Face it, Mr. Gibson. We have ties all over the place, while you leeches are parasites feeding off the well-being of good-to-do families like us. Like that loser of your mother who can’t even stay married. I would be surprised if she made it into the prophet or even found a job. Your father must be really disappointed. His boy is going to end up nothing but a footnote in this school’s never-ending list of failures no different than a troll, you know that?

Danny could not speak. Tears were coming down his face as he overheard the bell ringing in the hallway, hailing the start of the next class period.

Professor Black approached the desk and leaned on it again. “That’s right! You are foreign filth plaguing the good name of our beloved school and everything we stand for.”

He was not done yet. “I am appalled that they even let you into this school. Mr. Gibson, the only reason you are here is the Ministry has a tight leash on us about their galleons going into the school treasury. They would bloody shut us down if we didn’t admit every magical child in Britain and Ireland.”

The headmaster stood up and looked at the blackboard. Your goody-two-shoes Professor Weasley and those blokes have their heads in a barrel full of bubotuber pus.”

“I would not be surprised if your grades falter and you get expelled.” Professor Black then said as he turned to face Danny. “The honorable Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be better off with you flunking little horklump out of the picture.”

Without looking back, the headmaster told Danny “Out with you now, tramp. I have other matters to attend to. Be lucky that your next professor doesn’t lay it down on you for being late.” He opened the door and left without closing it.

The poor boy remained sitting at the desk of the dark room. He was sobbing with the earful that the headmaster had given him. Danny did not grasp what Professor Black was exactly going on about or why he singled him out of many students.

Meanwhile, in Professor Fig’s classroom, there was concern over Danny’s absence. “It has been about ten minutes and Mr. Gibson is still a no-show.” the teacher said. He asked Amit about his whereabouts.

“Professor Fig, we were on our way here when Professor Black called Danny aside. He then told us to go. We have not seen him since. I hope nothing has happened to him.” he said, sharing worry.

Squinting his eyebrows, the teacher remarked “That is certainly troubling. Mr. Thakkar, please go for look for Mr. Gibson. Tell him he will not be losing house points for being late. Miss Dale, and Mr. Larson, help Mr. Thakkar find Mr. Gibson.” Garreth also volunteered to help the Ravenclaws search for Danny.

The group left the class together, retracing their steps to where Professor Black had stopped the Ravenclaws before the start of Magical Theory.

-

Danny was found in an empty classroom at one of the desks, staring into space.

Amit asked him in a panicked, worried voice “What are you doing here, Danny?”

Brought up from his dull trance, he went “Ah! I’m late for Magical Theory.”

“What did Professor Black put you up to?” inquired a troubled-looking Samantha. “Are you alright, you looked quite out of it?” Garreth also questioned.

In an irritated tone, he only responded “Come on, I need to get to class. I will lose a lot of house points for being this late.” as he got up from the desk.

Andrew then told Danny “Professor Fig said he won’t take off points for this.”

“That’s brilliant. I really need to get to class.” he said, walking intently out of the empty room. Amit quipped “Please, Danny wait up.” as he and the others followed their friend out.

He arrived in Professor Fig’s classroom first followed by Amit, Samantha, Garreth and Andrew. The teacher approached the group and spoke to them.

“Ah, Mr. Gibson. It’s pleasing that you are okay and in one piece. What was all that about with Professor Black?

Danny sighed, he couldn’t think at all. “How about you go and find a seat? You need to relax.” said the teacher. “Yes, Professor.”

He went and sat down with the other Ravenclaws while Professor Fig talked with his friends. “Poor Mr. Gibson looked quite disturbed. Professor Black must have shoveled quite the load of foul rubbish to him.”

Amit affirmed “That’s right, Professor Fig. Danny was in no mood to talk when he found him. All he was focused on was getting to class.”

“I believe he got things said to him that hit him hard inside. My friend seems to be bothered a lot by thinking about whatever he had gone through. He can’t pull anything together without it getting to him.” Samantha added.

“Ahh, Merlin’s beard! This is quite a problem. Mr. Weasley, what do you think Professor Black has against Mr. Gibson? I know our headmaster is rather notorious, but why him?”

Garreth noted “Perhaps he saw something in Danny that he disliked a lot.”

Finally, Andrew said “Danny is using his classes to avoid talking about the matter. It must be too much for him to go through.”

“I see.” assessed Professor Fig. “This is something very disturbing indeed. I hope we can get to the bottom of it and help Danny but there is not much we can do at the moment. This is an isolated incident and there is no hard evidence of what Professor Black said to Danny. Until he can talk about it, we ought to be patient.”

The teacher had said it all. Danny’s four friends nodded in agreement. “We should start class now and focus on that for the time being.”

Magical Theory went on for the rest of the class period. Everyone including Danny paid attention to Professor Fig and took notes as he lectured to keep their minds off the matter.

-

That night after classes had ended, the Ravenclaws recuperated in their common room. Danny, Amit, Samantha and Andrew talked about how all their classes were like. Everyone was excited, except for Danny, who was more solemn in his responses.

Samantha broke the chain of the conversation when she took notice of how quiet he was. “Is that matter with Professor Black still bothering you, Danny?

“Please tell us what’s wrong.” said Andrew.

Amit stated “We cannot help you if we do not know the story.”

“We are your friends, Danny. You can be honest with us. We will not judge for anything you say to us. None of what Professor Black said is your fault.” explained Samantha. “We’re listening.” added Amit.

Feeling comfortable and assured enough by his friends to talk, Danny opened up to them.

“Okay, Professor Black took me aside and said we needed to have an important conversation. He led me inside an empty classroom and shut the door. The headmaster did not allow me to talk at all. He went on about how I was a filth to the school and the good name of people. Not just me, but he also talked about my mum and Professor Weasley being just as bad. Professor Black called us foreigners that were only leeches that feed off of families like his, like we would never amount to anything. He also got at my mum for not staying married and not able to find work. Before he left he told me that he would not be surprised if I failed my classes and got expelled.”

“Oh no, Danny. I can’t speak for how terrifying that must have been. I’m sorry.” Amit responded

Danny nodded slowly. “Indeed, it was terrifying. Professor Black just pulled me away while he just shouted at you all to go away. He’s not a nice headmaster.

Samantha reassured “You’re not alone here, Danny. Professor Black has a bad name for himself around here because of that behavior. He is also known to use his powers for only things that benefit himself and his family.”

“Right. He is still allowed to do whatever he wants even though it makes students feel unwelcome.” Andrew noted.

“The problem is that there is no way to punish him. That also scares me. He may just pay anyone he knows to get him out of trouble.” expressed a concerned Danny.”

“I know,” said Amit. “But we didn’t come here to Hogwarts to live in fear of Professor Black. This is supposed to be our home. Let’s make it that.”

Danny felt somewhat better. “I’m glad to have you all and Garreth by my side in this castle. I know Professor Weasley is also there for me.”

Samantha happily nodded “Exactly, Danny! We’ll work through this together. Remember we’re always here with you.”

“You can trust us.” agreed Andrew. “We’ll do our best to help you like when Professor Black made you late to Magical Theory today. Professor Fig is also someone to turn to.”

Amit then chimed in “This is only just the start of the first year. There are more days ahead of us, and tomorrow will be brand new. For a moment don’t think that it’s ruined. Together we’ll make the best out of it here.

“Thank you! All of you are showing to be good friends to me. Hopefully with us together it’ll be more fun studying here.” concluded Danny.

-

Over the weekend, Danny was on his way to the library to study potions with Garreth. Luckily he had avoided any contact with Professor Black since the fiasco on the first day. It was by fate that the hawkish headteacher would strike again.

He went into a T-intersection where two corridors met when he found himself face to face with the headmaster.

“Now, now Mr. Gibson. What have you been up to?”

“I was on my way to the library to do some studying.”

Professor Black scoffed. “Ah, the library. That dump. You Ra-”

Their exchange was broken off by the loud booming voice of a first year boy. “Professor Black! Enough of that potty mouth of yours!”

Both Danny and the headmaster turned to face the source of the shout. Facing them were a brown-haired Slytherin with a part in his hair, accompanied by a witch from his house with the same color of hair and a ponytail.

“What did you just say to me, Mr. Sallow?” an annoyed Professor Black asked the boy.

“You heard me.” he replied back.

Danny witnessed as he and the witch exchanged words with the headmaster

Backing up the Slytherin boy, she added “You don’t talk to a student like that. Better be lucky we don’t slip a dungbomb in your pocket for this.”

The headmaster didn’t take her words lightly. “30 points from Slytherin. I do not have the time for this foolish nonsense! Next time it’ll be in detention. I swear, I’ll have both of you polishing the trophy room from top to bottom with no spark of magic to teach you both some respect!”

Fed up and determined to be rid of the sight of the “troublemakers,” Professor Black scrammed away, leaving the three kids alone.

The Slytherin boy spoke to Danny now that the headmaster was gone.

"Hey. You doing alright?" He asked Danny. "I'm sorry that you had to see that."

"Thank you. I'm just glad you two made Professor Black go away. This is not the first time he tried to get at me.

"He's been giving us quite some trouble too."

The witch then spoke up "We're going to have to be quiet when dealing with Professor Black after this one. He means it when he'll put us in detention next time he catches us."

"Oh by the way, I'm Sebastian, Sebastian Sallow." the boy introduced himself.

"I'm Daniel Gibson. You can call me Danny."

The witch then made her introduction. Hello, I'm Anne, Sebastian's sister. We're twins."

"Great to meet you both," said Danny. "I appreciate people who can set aside their own things to help others in need."

Sebastian agreed "That’s good to know. Anne and I are the same there."

"I have to head to the library to study with a friend."

"We'll see you around here, Danny. It was nice meeting you." said Sebastian.

Before they parted, Anne told Danny "Come see us if Professor Black gives you trouble again."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Danny. Thanks again. I'll see you later."

With that, Danny and the twins bid their farewell and continued on with their days.

-

Now confident with people he knew by his side, Danny had the security to continue his studies at Hogwarts with opulence and a drive to learn more despite the transgressions of Professor Black. It would still be where he would take time to open up to most but he put a lot of faith in those there with him. The Sallow twins would introduce Danny to Ominis Gaunt, a fellow Slytherin who held strong disdain for the Dark Arts and the ways of the pure-blood elite. Over time, the four opened up to each other and realized they had much in common. They came from broken families marked by long struggles with abuse and crumbling ties between members.

United by their contempt for Professor Black, Danny would start working with the twins to discreetly cause chaos for the headmaster. When Professor Weasley learned of these actions, she was sympathetic to Danny. Although she advised to keep it between him and his friends and hoped they would not get ahead of themselves. In all cases, pranks and chaos was the only form of justice available when the repressive headmaster's immense clout and connections in society made formal punishments futile.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

biased as always, the number one Anne Stan, ofc i gotta christen this returned account with my girl <3

hlc react to mc developing a crush on anne? from the consistent visits to feldcroft to the occasional outing that mc can take her on, it’s obvious they’re growing to be a little more than friends…

A/N: Anne Sallow simping content coming right up lol

HLC REACT TO MC CRUSHING ON ANNE SALLOW

It all started the day Sebastian introduced MC to her. Even with her tired eyes, they were enraptured by her sweet voice and good nature despite being in such pain. Even if Anne was convinced there was no real help for her, MC was determined to make life just a bit more enjoyable.

At first, It was letters with little gifts. Those turned into visits without Sebastian tailing them. Eventually, sneaking Anne out of the house for some "fresh air." Even without Sebastian around, her uncle was rather unpleasant. Always hovering, to the point of being overbearing.

Their most memorable date outing by far has to have been when MC offered to fly her up the hill on their broom to overlook Feldcroft. She sat sidesaddle on the handle in front of MC and she held on to them as they gently glided up into the air. MC struggled to focus on where they were going having her so close.

So close in fact, that if MC hadn't been so distracted, maybe they would have heard the faint but distinctive whisper of ancient magic coming from the scar on her side.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He gets suspicious when MC starts asking too many Anne centric questions. Then he gets REAL suspicious when he walked in on MC and Anne playing wizard's chess. He hadn't announced that he was going, so he was shocked to see MC with his sister alone.

Protective Brother™ mode activated. What were they playing at? His sister had enough to deal with right now, she didn't need MC drooling all over her. He doesn't fall for any of MC's excuses, no one visits Anne more than he does, not even her old school friends. There was no way MC's intentions were "just being friendly".

He keeps an eagle eye out for MC. If he can't find them anywhere, he goes straight to Feldcroft to break up the fraternizing. Anne will have to tell him off multiple times.

OMINIS GAUNT: He doesn't know this is going on until Anne casually mentions it in her letters. This....he struggles with this. Anne is very special to him. They'd been close since first year, she was one of his first and few friends and now she...she seems so...taken by MC.

He wrestles with his own pride and self loathing. He should have said something sooner. He should have told her how much he....it didn't matter now. MC was braver. She doesn't deserve a coward like him anyway. He's happy she's happy. That's all that matters...right?

IMELDA REYES: She knew Anne. They were on the Slytherin quidditch team together before Anne fell ill. She reads about Anne and MC in letters and snorts. She advises Anne to not be so quick to admire MC, they aren't that amazing.

NATSAI ONAI: She finds it absolutely adorable. MC always thinks of Anne, constantly asking her if Anne will like what they've found or bought. Even asks for advice, not that she knows much about relationships, but she tries her best.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He gets nosey, seeing MC almost always nose deep in a letter that smells floral with a touch of birch. He'll poke fun that they're infatuated with their special pen pal and not so subtly imply that he has the perfect potion in mind if they want to speed things along. *Wink*

LEANDER PREWETT: Anne who? Sebastian's sister? Pfffft, good luck with that. Sebastian is a bulldog when it comes to family. Very protective, almost possessive.

AMIT THAKKAR: He first realizes that MC is acting strange when they started daydreaming heavily in class. Even in the more interesting classes. What's got them all starry-eyed and distracted from learning? ....he should have known. A girl.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He hears about it second hand from someone else who heard MC and Sebastian going at it over MC seeing Anne without supervision. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially when the arguably most interesting person at Hogwarts apparently developed a crush on Sallow's sister and was sneaking around with her. Made for very juicy gossip.

POPPY SWEETING: She hears about it through the rumor mill as well and tells MC to fly in on a hippogriff next time. That always impresses the ladies, trust her on this.

ANNE SALLOW: MC brought some color back into her life. They wanted to know all about her, they showered her with gifts, and would come to see her even without reason. She caught on fast that MC fancied her and she had fun playing coy.

Oh, MC wants to know what she likes for her birthday? What an odd, totally random question. MC has been staring at her for the last five minutes, not realizing she's stopped talking, how interesting. She loved pointing out MC's blatantly odd behavior and watching them fluster within an inch of their life. It's the Slytherin in her, she thinks it's funny.

When MC starts asking for more private outings, that's when she really starts to feel special. MC was willing to accommodate her in any way she needed. If she grew exhausted from a walk, they would carry her back. If she was having a particularly rough day with the curse, they'd tend to her hand and a foot, almost fussing as much as Sebastian. Almost.

The time MC flew her up the hill to the lookout, she felt herself falling, in the figurative sense. MC may have fallen for her first, but she fell harder. Holding on to them as they flew, she couldn't take her eyes off their face. She almost kissed them. She didn't, however, miss the fact that her scar hurt a lot less that day.

[the-kcm-muggleborn]

Kind For You

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

O/C: Sebastian Sallow x Edwart Thompson x Ominis Gaunt ✨️platonic✨️ (My OC)

Warnings: None:)

Word count: 1011

Chapter 3

Part 7

“Well. Hello there stranger.” Sebastian joked as Edwart took a spot in front of him in the great hall as Sebastian and Ominis were eating supper. “We haven't seen you the entire day. Did you skip breakfast and dinner?”

Edwart took a breath and spoke as he poured himself tea. “I was out all night, and returned around dusk.”

Sebastian looked at Ominis who's reaction was similar to his. Bewilderment.

“What were you doing all night?” Sebastian asked.

“Helping a friend. I'm fine. Please, don't worry too much.” Edwart said while sipping his tea. “I just couldn't sleep.”

“Are you sure? You know you can tell us anything right?” Ominis asked with worry audible in his voice.

Edwart smiled gently. “Thank you Ominis. Natsai Onai found a letter where Rookwood and Harlow are plotting something. They mentioned my name and she's suspicious of me being involved. I couldn't tell her the truth.” Edwart looked at the ground.

“Edwart,” Ominis called him to gain his attention. “You're being too hard on yourself.” 

“Agreed,” Sebastian added with a small smile. “Turn that frown upside-down. Are you excited for your first astronomy lesson tonight? You're gonna get tortured by Amit Thakkar. You've met him in potions.”

“He seems… as a typical Ravenclaw.”

“He is that.” Ominis chuckled. “Glad I am dismissed from that. Today's supposed to be cold…”

“Ugh. Great.” Edwart grumbled. “Another all-nighter and in the cold. Aren't you taking astronomy Sebastian?”

“Not this weekend.” He grinned from ear to ear. “I'm in another group. I had astronomy a few weeks back.” 

Edwart sighed deeply. And Sebastian tried to ease his mood.

“Cheer up, pretty boy. It's just an hour long. Then you’re free for the next few weeks.”  

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

“The heavens remain hazy to the starry-eyed.” Professor Shah intrigued Edwart with her speech. “Now if you were to devote yourselves to persistent and

painstaking observation, you just might catch a glimpse. To your stations everyone.” 

Edwart looked around unsure what to do, aware that he did not possess a telescope.

“Still don't have your own, Mr Thompson? You can't be the new student forever, you know. You can share with Mr Thakkar.”

Amit smiled at Edwart stepping to the side to let him have a look through his telescope. When Edwart noticed the equipment was blurred he wanted to adjust it when Amit jumped to it first.

“Here I can adjust that for you-”

But Professor Shah was quicker.

“No, no. Bring it into focus. On your own.”

So Edwart did. Pretty well actually. He completed the given assignment. 

“Now,” Professor Shah spoke again.“I expect all of you to put in your stargazing hours outside of class. Is that clear?”

“But Professor, it's freezing out.” Leander Prewett spoke with a shaking breath. That sentence drove the Professor to a lecture.

“Mere cold didn't stop the great stargazers of the past. Look only at the Astronomy Tables they erected throughout the Highlands. from which they gazed, millennia ago, on the very selfsame stars above us. Is that clear?"

Professor Shah looked around at the students shaking from the cold. Even Edwart, who was dressed better than the students around him, was freezing to the bone.

Professor Shah looked around disappointed and with a sign said “Dismissed.” 

Every student practically ran towards the stairwell to seek some warmth Edwart was as well when Amit stopped him.

“Hello! I don't believe we've met officially. I'm Amit. I'm something of an Astronomy buff.”

“Hello, Amit. It's nice to officially meet you. I’m Edwart.”

“Did I hear Professor Shah say that you don't have your own telescope? I have a spare one you could borrow for the rest of the term."

Edwart was thrown off by that sudden kindness. “That's very kind of you. Amit. Are you sure you won't need it?” 

“I'm certain. It's my old one. I finally got my hands on the new Celestia Contemplor. You've heard of it, I assume?” 

“I-” Edwart had simply no idea what to say.

“I mean, of course, you have. it's only the pinnacle of all personal stargazing implements. But my old model's not too shabby either: Goblin-cut glass. first-rate optical enchantments. Hate to think such a fine instrument is just collecting dust.”

“Well, I- thank you, Amit.” Edwart stumbled.

“Think nothing of it.” Amit smiled.“Anyway, the telescope's in the storage room right underneath us. You can't miss it. I have some, uh, reading to finish on the lower deck. Come find me there afterwards - and bring the telescope. There's something I want to talk to you about”

“Ah.” Edwart thought. “I see where this is going. I hope I'm wrong though.”

Edwart found the telescope and then returned to Amit.

“Amit. I have the telescope. It's nicer than I had expected.”

“I would not offer a prospective stargazer a third-rate Lunascope.” Amit laughed as if this was the most obvious knowledge in the Scottish Highlands.“But there is, um, something else.”

“Of course, there is…” Edwart thought. “Yes, what is it?” he spoke suspiciously.

“You remember those Astronomy Tables Shah was going on about? It just so happens I've been reading up on them a little myself. And it seems there may be one right here at Hogwarts. I

believe we could use it to find hidden constellations!” 

“I’m sorry Amit. As much as what you are implying sounds like an interesting adventure. I am beat, and Shah already dismissed us. Thank you for letting me use your telescope but I won't be able to help you. Goodnight Amit.” Edwart walked away not looking back but he knew Amit was disappointed. But decided to finally put his sleep first. Maybe this time he would sleep peacefully again.

<Part 6 /// Part 8> 

- - - - - - - - - AUTOR'S NOTES- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thank you for reading Part 7. Only one more left and because this one was so short, tomorrow is coming THE last part. Ah astronomy! Felt as an important class to mention (unlike the flying class where I couldnt find a good moment to slide it in) but not enough to write about the astronomy table and the little escapade with Amit, Eddie's too tired to even care lol.

[mostboringcrossover]

Something I never understood about the Hogwarts Legacy storyline was not telling the other professors about Ranrok and Rookwood earlier on. Like- if magic is being threatened, and your entire shtick is teaching at a MAGIC SCHOOL you'd think youd want to tell people to warn them. Anyways- Since I recently finished my first playthrough of the game, I figured I'd give my reactions to most of the characters I can remember based off of MCs first canonical interactions with them in game.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW

Me: Alright... how quickly are you going to drag me down to hell with you?

Sebastian: *Mentions dark magic*

Me: There it is-

OMINIS GAUNT

Ominis: DON'T lie to me!

Me: STOP YELLING AT ME

LEANDER PREWETT

Me: So he's a cocky prick, isn't mentioned a lot in the game, AND he hates the character everyone loves?... I'm gonna like you just to be special.

-One Astonomy Quest Later-

Me: He's WHINY?!?! OH COME ON- (I hate whiny people)

GARRETH WEASLEY

Me: The Weasley family is my favorite so hopefully... Oh he's silly with no situational awareness? I love him already.

AMIT THAKKAR

Me: I meet this guys during the star quest AND I get a telescope?! I feel like we would be friends in real life-

POPPY SWEETING

Me: She's seriously the ONLY big Hufflepuff figure in the whole game? This is Cedric Diggory all over again- Oh god please don't tell me she dies-

(I'm a Hufflepuff and I find the severe LACK of house rep in the main HP movies and Books offensive)

IMELDA REYES

Me: GOOOOOO FUUCCKKK YOURSEEEELLLLFFF!!! You're a bitch for no reason PLEASE- You are the first character I've been mean to this entire game-

EVERETT CLOPTON

Me: You got fucked over with your last name, dude- also your voice is a tiny bit annoying, but you're teaching me to fly so I guess it's okay.

[seedsinmygarden]

Coming Out as MTF Trans To HLC

As someone under the nonbinary-transgender umbrella (I'm still figuring it out), I hoped to bring the coming-outs to life in the way that it should happen. You are the best you that you could be, and I see you. I'm so proud of you.

Word Count: 667 words

Tags and Warnings: Fluff, some angst, mentions of transphobia.

--

OMINIS GAUNT: He doesn’t quite understand right away thanks to his upbringing, but after some explaining and educating, he has a solid grasp on it! Gladly accepts MC with open arms, and tells her that if she faces any transphobia, he can get those students expelled before they can blink.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He’s talked to Sirona about her experience in coming out when she was younger, so he understands how daunting it feels. Sebastian reassures MC that she is safe with him, and will clock anyone that disrespects her.

AMIT THAKKAR: Amit is curious and will ask questions as respectfully as possible, and he’ll end up going on to read about others’ experiences in hopes of helping her be more comfortable. He is happy she trusts him to come out to him, and is always an open ear to listen and open arms for a hug whenever she needs the comfort.

GARRETH WEASLEY: This Weasley boy… He lets his usual jokey personality dissolve momentarily as he understands the courage it took MC to come out to him. Garreth doesn’t quite have personal experience or conversations on the topic (whether that be with someone in general or a transgender person), but that doesn’t stop him from trying his best! He’ll cheer MC up when she faces a tough path, and he’ll be there with her when she comes out to his aunt to change her dorm room.

NATSAI ONAI: Instantly welcomes MC to the girls! She will absolutely help her with finding any resources she needs, even going above and beyond to find multiple of them. Anything to help MC. :)

POPPY SWEETING: Like Natty, Poppy will instantly welcome MC to the girls and as with Anne, will invite her on the next girls’ trip out to Hogsmeade! She’s much more brave in standing up for her when she needs it, and will swoop in for the save on Highwing should MC ever need it.

IMELDA REYES: Imelda thinks MC is so badass for it. It takes a lot of courage to come out, especially in a time where being anything but cisgender was not as widely accepted in the muggle world. She validates MC in ways that don’t need words— kicks anyone who deadnames or misuses pronouns, welcomes them to the girls locker rooms of the Slytherin quidditch team (if MC is in Slytherin and on the team!) and makes sure they’re comfortable overall.

ANNE SALLOW: Anne was there when Sirona told Sebastian about her experience, and she accepts MC with open arms. Literally, she’ll hug her, and then invite her to the next girls day out to Hogsmeade!

EVERETT CLOPTON: As someone with a trans mother, he understands quite perfectly! He thanks MC for trusting him with such information and will gladly help her towards resources and books that his moms used to help the family grow a stronger bond. (He even asks MC if she would like to talk to his mom about her experiences, and will gladly pass on any letters back and forth.)

LEANDER PREWETT: Unsure of how to react at first, but lets her know that he’s supportive!! He truly means well, and he’ll show that support it in ways that aren’t the most verbal— like making it a habit to have hairpins or ribbons on hand for her hair, or correcting anyone who deadnames her.

LUCAN BRATTLEBY: Immediately offers to style her hair!!! This kid has five little sisters and has become the designated hairstylist in the family because they all beg him to do it, and other girls never let him do it. He doesn’t hesitate to place her in the women’s bracket of the Crossed Wands duels as well, when there’s gender-specific tournaments.

PROFESSOR FIG: It takes him a bit to switch from calling her his son to his daughter, but he gets it down within the week! Wholeheartedly accepts and still loves MC for who she is, and he is so proud of who she’s growing to become.