#chapter 3 of book 3 is 12k long so i need to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ephemerlskies · 5 years ago

Text

the lighthouse | jjk

⇢ pairing: reader x jungkook

⇢ genre: one shot, fluff (what's new), strangers to "lovers", mutual pining, so much sap you're gonna have to shower after reading this, ANGST, jungkook is a literary scholar (?) of sorts

⇢ word count: 12k

⇢ warnings: as stated before, it's Cheesy with a capital C, lots of introspection, brief mentions of death, explicit language, mommy issues, (((major plot twist)))

⇢ summary: you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled. was this going to be another disappointing chapter in the book of unattainable desires or could your encounter with the mysterious man who lived in the lighthouse lead to something much more?

a/n: i'm super proud of how this turned out even though it ripped my heart out of my chest... this was probably my favorite fic to write and ahh im so happy to release it!!!! i hope you lovely little angels enjoy!! :) <3

What makes us human? This question posed by your philosophy teacher had been stalking your thoughts hours after class had ended. As the rain padded against your umbrella, you piled in a few answers to this question.

What makes us human? A question that would seemingly have a clear cut answer, but when you got down to it, there was no distinct characteristic that differentiates humans from other animals. It was easy to say something such as how we have complex linguistics or industrialized civilization, but that is to discredit how the packs of wolves howl to each other, the birds sing from tree to tree, the beavers diligently construct their dams, or the dirt cities in which ants build their own societies not much different than humans.

You pondered the idea that we love so deeply, even when it is often unreturned, but there is no denying the way a mother bear strikes down any and all enemies to protect her baby cub is anything other than true love.

So, what makes us human? You sat on a bench placed on the sidelines where you could witness small scenes of the lives of passing strangers. This sonder might be what makes us human. The knowledge that each person lives and loves and cries and fears and speaks and dies in ways with which you will never begin to familiarize. Life continues on around you despite how unimportant it may seem to the rest.

Does a lion waste any moment of his time wondering how the deer had found its way to the shallow pond, whilst preparing to strike? Of course not.

You watched a couple clinging onto each other and wondered where they met. You then were captured in the peace of an old woman prodding around in the grass with her golden retriever; perhaps it was her last companion. Then, your eyes drifted towards the two boys pushing each other over but with the gentleness one could only assume that was out of friendship or perhaps brotherhood.

And then you saw him.

Gentle fingers tracing the stacks of magazines lined in a perfect column; an arm that disappeared into the sleeve of his dark, wool coat. A tweed newsboy hat sheltering his eyes, and deep chestnut Oxford shoes stepping lightly, nearing a tiptoe, between the cracks of each cement plate, weathered by the infinite other shoes that tread on those very grounds. A body so magnetizing and moving as if it were a secret, and you couldn’t imagine why no one else had been ingested by the enigma that is this man. You longed for him to reveal these secrets that hid underneath his hat and coat, though if he wouldn’t, which he most likely wouldn’t, you had no problem with seeking them out yourself.

In a city filled with young souls draped in modern streetwear, jeans, bright colors, and converse or Dr. Martens or perhaps high heels, catching this needle in the haystack plugged into every synapse of wonderment. The muted tones of his clothing gleamed the brightest out of the sea of strangers.

This is what made you human. Your desire to know everything that lies barely beyond your wingspan. Everything you could hold was close to nothing in meaning, and everything your arms could not reach was always all you could ever want. The rise of your legs, the way you replicated his every movement, running your fingers along the stack of magazines, fastidious prancing in the spaces between the cracks, and your subtle pursuit of the man just out of reach was what made you human.

Bodies bustling through your path failed to untether you from this chase. It felt far beyond your power to stop yourself from the rising excitement and allure in your chest that pulled you towards him. The man was quick and swift to dodge oncoming bystanders, however your eyes became a missile fixed on a target.

The unexpected turn he took had you floundering for you had been trapped behind an older lady and a couple walking side by side. Sadly, your memorization of the streets and landmarks had been admisal, so you found yourself in uncharted territory. Each road sign and corner store had been displayed like a foreign language, and you mentally cursed yourself for letting your silly lust for learning what shouldn’t be learned lead you into this difficult position.

You stood defeated, the man had evaded your fragile trail behind him with ease. You lost him, or maybe he got away.

It was still midday, prompting you to make an end of this means. Your eyes discovered the coast set along the edge of the town, and though this was the furthest you had ever gone, you dared to go further. This mishap of yours granted you the opportunity to introduce yourself to the shore, and the waves have always delighted your interest. So, you found it just to walk down to the sand. The sound of the water pressing into the wet sand was calming; it was something you could find yourself getting used to. Luck presented itself kindly, giving you a moment unencumbered by the rain that had ceased not long after you stepped foot on the beach.

You took this time to be with yourself and sort out all the problems that have been worrying your mind these past few weeks. Your best friend, Chaeyoung, had an upcoming birthday that had snuck up on you before you had the chance to even think about getting her a card, let alone a gift or celebration. And you would be disappointed with yourself if you failed to outdo last year’s efforts. There was also the test in your Chemistry class scheduled only a day after her birthday, curtailing your plans of staying out late because there was no way you would allow for anything less than your very most on this exam. Then, there was the essay on what makes us human that you denied any chance of regaining priority to your list of worries, knowing it would gnaw at your mind until you forcibly shut it out.

And the man that willed you to seek him out, and that wore the title of his stories as if he intentionally wished to spark your wonder to learn them.

That should have been the last of your worries. It should have been.

The day began to fade into a warm, orange dusk. Skies once gloomy and grey now covered in blankets of clouds reflecting the sun’s gentle rays and you found yourself reunited with the calming feeling similar to when you first stepped on the beach.

Not long after registering how far you had traveled along the shore, you noticed a quaint lighthouse with a house-like structure at the base. The off-white stones cemented up until a red paneled roof covered it, tempting you to know what lies behind those walls.

It looked like it was about to rain again.

Are lighthouses closed off from the public?

There’s a house, there must be someone inside that could help me find my way home.

All these comments to yourself made to premise the conclusion of entrance into this lighthouse. As you approached the door, framed in oak lining and painted red, the clouds appeared heavy once again. A few drops of condensation was enough persuasion that what was about to be done was for the good of your well being. You pushed it open and a creak echoed around the room inside.

The walls were covered with stone bricks and there was one table in the center of the room. Other than that, this house was barren and if it weren’t for the second door that you guessed led to the lighthouse you would have called a car to take you home.

Your walk was pensive and mouse-like; there was some quality about this structure that made you feel like you weren’t alone and sudden movements would disrupt an established peace. Your hand turned the cold, gold-plated handle and pulled open the door, soon being met with a warm gust of air that engulfed you into the lighthouse.

This part of the building was exponentially more decorated than the room that preceded it. A staircase cemented into the sides of the lighthouse plastered with shelves upon shelves of books spiraled along the cylindrical walls, paired with dull lanterns that illuminated each level of railing had you drawn into its magnificence.

You stared up to what looked like a platform that held a place in which one would rest and look out into the ocean. There was no one in sight, and you assumed permission to climb up the staircase. Your eyes scanned each spine, creased and slightly warped from the moisture of the air, like they had been read over and over again. Your breath became heavy and your stare was focused on the books to ignore the dizziness settling in.

Reaching the top of the staircase came as a blessing, your lungs were close to catching fire. There were two armchairs, side by side, one fashioned a knitted blanket and the other was used as a table for five to seven or so novels, and the walls behind buried in high stacks of more books. There had to be at least seventy in the first half of piles you accounted for, and before you had the chance to snoop around the rest of the room you heard a voice coated with alarm behind you.

“What are you doing in here?” Your breath halted as you turned around, about to explain why you had let yourself into this building, however no amount of words could fully justify this invasive act.

You recognized the wool coat and the tweed hat now resting in his hand instead of on his head. His eyes were shrouded in a youthful innocence despite his attire that implied he was a sophisticate of some sort.

“Are you going to answer me or do I have to call the police?” The boom of his voice was chilling, sending shivers along your neck and chest.

“Sorry, I’m-” How could you possibly defend your intrusion without sounding juvenile or absolutely insane? “I was… It was raining and I just was walking on the beach so-”

“So, you decided breaking and entering was better than getting a little wet?” His barbed responses hurdled how you plaintively stuttered around excuses. Despite his efforts to seem menacing, you couldn't let go of his boyish facial features. It was absolutely astonishing to you that someone who looked young enough to attend your own college and handsome enough to garner quite a bit of attention had anything to do with this dingy, aged lighthouse.

“No, I was going to come in here to ask for directions. I’m lost.” The pitiful temperament of this comment was not intentional, but the man who now stood in front of you felt itched by it. He couldn't ignore how your legs trembled, partly from the cold but also because of his raised voice directed at you, and how that admittedly aroused some guilt.

“It’s fine. Just-” He sighed deeply, placing his hat on the side table adjacent to the left armchair, “You can just wait here until the rain stops. Though, I have to say it looks unrelenting at the moment.” The man’s attention was captured by how the heavy rain seemed to wage war against the raging tides. You caught a glimpse of a smile. The slightest upturn of the corner of his lips almost compelling you to reveal you had spotted him in the town earlier today, and that you found yourself enamoured with his every movement, and he was ironically the reason you were stuck here.

“Are you sure? I can go, I shouldn't have been here in the first place.” The words escaped from your mouth quickly as if they were trying to race each other to be spoken.

“No, I said it’s fine.” The suddenness of this offer hushed you. He then removed his wool coat, unveiling the clothes he wore beneath it. The burgundy crew neck sweater layered tastefully over a collared shirt was just as old fashioned as every other article of clothing he sported. How intriguing.

“I'm sorry.” Your muscles grew sore from suppressing how aggressively you would have been shaking from the cold. “Thank you.” Him granting you shelter gave you motive to keep the umbrella that would suffice to protect you from the rain under wraps. The option he presented was far more favorable.

“Sit down. Please, use this blanket.” He gestured towards the throw draped over the right armchair. His eyes avoided you as much as he could manage though you had this glow emulating from your wanting eyes and soft looking skin that crept to the corner of his vision too brightly to ignore. Consequently, this comment soothed both your body and mind for he unguarded a kindness that was hidden when he first spoke to you.

“My name is ___.” He was facing the window that displayed the sea, now thrashing and falling into itself, and without moving his head, his eyes drifted towards you.

“I know who you are.”

“Wh- How?” Maybe accepting an invite in a secluded lighthouse on the beach wasn’t the safest thing you could be doing on a Friday afternoon. Anxiety pioneered a place in your breathing, turning it rushed and choked.

Before your mind could theorize all the ways in which you could make an escape from this room or how quickly you could use your hidden umbrella as a weapon he said, “I noticed you following me in the town’s square earlier today.” You sighed, releasing the terror that pricked your lungs. If anything, it was he who should be afraid of you.

“I’m not a stalker!” That weak defense was all you could push from your throat before any well constructed explanations could be put forth.

His laugh, along with his cryptic gaze towards the waves, made you feel even worse about your actions.

“You were just so stunning and I wanted to know what kind of person still wears a newsboy hat without trying to make a statement.” Your lower lip tucked between your teeth stopped the nervous laugh about to spill and expressed worry that the more you tried to explain yourself, the more this man believed you should be charged for stalking not to mention trespassing.

“Stunning?”

“I mean, like, someone I’d want to meet.”

“What were you planning on doing once I stopped somewhere, or noticed you?” He questioned you only because he relished how you were scrambling to a proper defense. He knew you weren’t any threat to him, not many people were, however he enjoyed your chatter more than the silence that would have taken its place.

“I don't know, maybe just… introduce myself?” This sheepish, yet honest, reply had you drowning in humiliation, while the man before you seemed as if he were floating effortlessly along the surface.

“I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Relief replaced the worry that he would turn you away, leaving you to the hands of the storm outside. The fact that any other person would have done so led you to believe Jungkook held a lot more compassion than he let on. You held your hand to greet him, finding it only polite to execute this formality. His, however, remained folded behind his back, notably denting your ego as you retracted your hand quicker than you extended it.

“Okay.” You muttered to yourself in slight embarrassment from this trivial rejection. “So, do you live here or something?” Your question was first replied to with a breath of annoyance. Jungkook was kind enough to allow you a sanctuary from the rain, exemption from the intrusion and stalking, and now he found himself having to entertain you.

“Yeah, something like that.” All this disinterested answer did was persist your attempts to break his catatonic gaze. However, his reserve had been solidified steadily over the years, so this venture was going to be tough.

“I didn’t know you could live in a lighthouse?” Your inquiry was spoken with the hopes this would ignite a lasting conversation.

“It’s not a lighthouse, technically.” Jungkook’s affirmative tone flew right over your head, conjuring even more annoyance that oddly enticed him to continue responding to your dense questions.

“Well, it looks like a lighthouse. It’s shaped like a lighthouse. It’s on the beach, just like a lighthouse.” A chuckle joined the sigh of his breath and his head that shook at your shallow observations. Jungkook eventually turned around and made his way towards the stacks of books, trying to preoccupy himself from whatever this exchange was. “All signs point to this being a lighthouse.”

“Well, it’s not. Lighthouses are meant to send signals to the ships out at sea. This doesn't,” His curt response tickled your amusement, only encouraging you to further aggravate him. “Therefore, not a lighthouse.”

“Okay,” You sounded agreeable, but this was soon followed by a doubtful comment whispered just loud enough for Jungkook’s ear to catch it, “It’s a lighthouse.” He found his stoicism melting away due to your spiteful attitude and conniving giggle in the face of his frustration. You wanted to get a rise out of him, and he knew this, and you were doing a fine job at it.

“It’s not-” His voice elevated with excitement, but he soon tamed the defensiveness threatening to spill from his lips, “Do you want to go back out into the rain?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Though, you sounded all but remorseful. The sly smirk resting on your face matched Jungkook’s satisfied expression, despite these smiles surfacing for different reasons. You couldn’t deny how humorous it was to distemper this man. How all the worries you laid out like the pebbles and seashells on this beach were washed away by the tides. Meanwhile, his grin provided little contribution in masking his enjoyment of your company and relentless curiosity.

You now sat in the right armchair, bundled in the blanket. It was not necessarily a thick blanket, but the chills once disturbing you had dwindled almost immediately. You were still entranced by Jungkook's movements. His hands were now occupied with a book from one of the stacks he’d been eyeing; the way he cradled the book like it was a newborn baby further revealed he had a somewhat protective attitude towards them.

“What are you reading?” His eyes remained between the pages and lines of the book, but his focus was yet again thieved by your incessant curiosity. Jungkook thought it irritating similarly to how one would find a cat disrupting their owner from work, annoying yet ever so endearing, and adorably distracting.

“I’m not reading, I’m being bothered by you.” His snark was meant to damage your brazen pestering, but unknown to him it merely fueled it.

“Boohoo.” No matter how elementary that retort was, you still managed to fever him and hold hostage his attention.

“I’m reading The Odyssey.” Jungkook surrendered to you, placing the book on his lap that was now sitting in the armchair next to yours. “Why do you ask so many questions?” His eyes laid on you the same way they laid on the sea, filled to the brim with fascination.

“I just wanted to know what you were reading.” Even when he expressed a clear indication that he was past your nonsense, it went unnoticed like the particles of dust flitting around the darkened room. This oblivion of yours prompted your next question. “Could you read it to me?”

His eyebrows furrowed at this request. Jungkook had already found himself exhausted by your persistence, and predicted ‘no’ would not be accepted as a viable answer. He just sighed and began to read aloud.

His soft voice somehow drowned out the sea’s commotion. The words flowed off his tongue as if he wrote the book himself; such poise for a young man lured you to immerse yourself in his narration and time grew more and more abstract.

After a bit, Jungkook paused to examine how you'd received his reading and he was pleased to find your chin resting in your palm and your eyes and ears fixed onto him as if he were reading the gospel. This made it difficult, impossible, to deny entry for the subtle blush working its way on his cheeks.

“Are you satisfied?” He closed the book, peering out of the window to check if the weather had eased since you arrived. Though the intensity of the storm hadn’t lightened in the slightest, there was a new tranquility adopted by the drizzling sky waters that sank and fed into the waves.

“Never.” You replied with a hungered conviction twisted into your words, “What happens next?”

Jungkook laughed in shock of how eager you were to hear more of this story. It was unlike someone who wasn’t well versed in literature to genuinely enjoy listening to this archaic novel.

“Why are you laughing? Read more!” Your whine came off a bit childlike, but succeeded in its goal.

“It’s getting late.” He commented with a gentle sternness, though he proceeded to reopen the book. Your peculiar attention naturally drew him to oblige your desires. Even in the midst of a storm, even as the hours slipped by and the evening had been born, he continued to read.

You settled back into your chair in rejoice that you’d get to spend a bit more time with Jungkook. He was practically a stranger, and still there was a climate of comfort and intimacy that took the place of the crisp, winter air when he read from his book. He felt it too, and that was reason enough to allow you this company.

Throughout the chapter he had been working to finish, he snuck glances to find your eyes growing heavy with sleep as each page turned. Jungkook halted from reading and was trapped in the flush of your cheeks and lips and how your mouth hung slightly ajar as you inhaled the cold, wet air of the lighthouse. The puffs of breath that billowed from your lips had him yearning to know a warmth so full with life and curiosity.

“Are-” Jungkook tensed at the idea of disturbing your sleep, as if you hadn’t barged into his life without a hint of permission. “Are you asleep?”

Your head lifted slowly, then held stiff to maintain consciousness, “I was just resting my eyes. I’m not tired, I want you to read more.” You said this in spite of knowing you would drift asleep if he did.

“I think we are done reading for now.” The book closed for the last time, his hands pressing against the cover to seal his assurance. “You should head home.”

“But, I don’t know how the book ends.” This weak argument came from a place of jaded desperation. Regardless, he almost fell victim to your subdued urgency but any sensibility he could garner warned him not to allow this. You were quite obviously tired and he prefered you be safe in your own bed before the night advanced.

“Well, that’s because I only just started this book and it is very, very long.” Jungkook hoped this would usher you out even if that meant the return of loneliness would seep between the pillows of the right armchair after you left him with his solitude.

“Well, I won’t be able to get these questions out of my mind unless I finish the book.” Another weak argument drained from your inventory of excuses. Maybe a change of subject would present an opportunity to linger in his company. “Also, why do you live here all alone?”

“I just do. I feel like I don’t have to explain this to you.” Jungkook was bewildered at his admission to give you, an unannounced and uninvited visitor, any explanations and still he was close to doing exactly that. “You’re quite invested in my personal life.” As much as that was true, his withdrawal from your curiosity wasn't all that effortful. Living in secrecy and desolation had the feeling of companionship nearly vanishing from his memory and you reunited him with that warmth. And, he had not realized how it had nearly been forgotten or how much he missed it until he finally felt it again.

“You seem like someone who has better things to attend to.” The lament that stained his words bore such heartache that was soon displaced in your chest.

“No, no. My life is boring, and I don’t know. What person wouldn’t be interested in the personal life of a hermit who lives in a lighthouse?” You stood and paced around the platform towering over the swirling bookshelves below, towering over what felt like the entire world with Jungkook. The end of the blanket trailed your footstep as your drooping eyes skimmed the multicolored novels which were remarkably arranged alphabetically by author. How he had the time or patience to organize the hundreds of books he owned was beyond your comprehension. Every detail you acquired from Jungkook was stored in a compartment of your heart, almost as if it were assigned by fate. They were told in riddles and secrets and everything else meant to be deciphered.

“Not a hermit, and not a lighthouse. I couldn’t imagine someone like you being bored with your life.” His voice had become welcoming, with a hint of genuine interest, and this transition felt imminent ever since you first introduced yourself. The tilt of your head signified your agreement with his last statement and implied there was something that bothered you about this truth.

“Someone like me?”

“Someone like you. Curious, young with your whole life ahead of you. It's hard to believe you should be bored with that.”

“You say that as if you aren't the same age as me.” Jungkook shrugged lazily and scuffed his shoes against the rug as he now stood against the window sill, observing your interest of his books.

“I shouldn’t be a lot of things, and yet I am all those things. Bored, curious, and I’m here talking to a complete stranger that totally has the capability to murder me like in those movies instead of going back home.” Your comment that snuck out had wrested a soft chuckle from Jungkook. They were absentmindedly thrown into the air that filled the space between you and him, nurturing his reciprocated fascination with you. Your diligent grazing of each book had distracted how the weight of your eyelids heavied by the minute.

“It’s not like I don’t have great people in my life or a quality education that takes up most of my time, I just,” Your brief pause was to turn your attention over to Jungkook, who did not hide how he was listening intently to these confessions, alleviating from a place in need of emptying. His eyebrow was arched in a manner that jolted you back to your senses. You’d revealed one too many privacies to someone who you had been acquainted with only hours ago. Mortification would have bathed your body if not for the way Jungkook seemed to strongly engage with your openness.

“You just?” He staged his interest overtly to correct the imbalance of how your genuinity left you hanging lower than him on the emotional scale. Jungkook believed that was the least he could do to mitigate the embarrassment about to silence you.

“Uh, I just never seem to be satisfied with what I have. And that makes me seem like a greedy, spoiled child which makes me even more frustrated with myself.” You admitted, pulling the blanket over your shoulders tighter as if that would shield you from the compromising guilt slithering out of your body. “And that’s how I see myself. Ungrateful and spoiled.” This certainly scraped the barrel of your deep rooted disgust with yourself.

“Not spoiled, just lost.” His response felt like a soft and thoughtful embrace, granted that this was meant to ease the tinge of reproach in your heart. The words he spoke caressed your cheeks and told you that every horrid thing you thought of yourself was flawed.

“I’ve certainly been in your position.” He euphemized what he really wanted to say to you, that he saw himself in you. Even though you spoke very little on this, he felt himself living every experience you alluded to as if he had been right beside you your whole life. Or rather that you had witnessed his life and suffered identical desires and grievances and adversities and were simply retelling his story down to the most intricate detail; and somehow you made it sound brand new and a thousand times more aching. He was stranded in a state of amazement, ambushed by your pain and how even in moments of emotional destitution, you were unquestionably beautiful.

Likewise, this stranger, who was no longer estranged, and his kind words nearly compensated for the billions of people you could never meet, all the dreams you wanted but could never alter into incarnation, and all the disappointments that plagued your heart.

And you felt held by his words, his voice, him.

“You’ve been in my position?” You requested confirmation.

“I was. Certainly.” And he confirmed.

“Where are you now?” In turn, you wanted this to suggest, ‘where can I find you?’

This question carried profound sentiment on both the giving and receiving end of it. To you, this yearned for advice. Any piece of wisdom would gladly, gratefully be accepted to ease this rampage of constant dissatisfaction. To him, it resurfaced a series of speculations long undisturbed until you had asked this question; a place intentionally void of all attention because it was sometimes too grim to remember. A haze of difficulty crowded a definite answer, though he knew there was one. He couldn’t place his finger on a fitting response and found himself next to you in search of the answer.

Where are you now?

This haunted his mind for a bit, leaving him speechless and albeit impressed, for once, by your curiosity.

“It’s hard to say. Somewhere in between, I suppose.” Whatever meaning this carried did not resonate as sound to you. The mere idea of being on the end of perpetual longing, waiting for a clear path to the end that promised fulfillment, made it implausible to settle on being somewhere in between the two. Again, you were left unsatisfied and feeling a burden placing itself on your shoulders and wallowing a fit of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook noticed how your eyes fell from his, down to the maroon accents of the rug, and felt out of place. Out of place, in his own lighthouse, all because your gaze and attention he’d grown used to in this short time wasn’t directed at him.

“That’s the kind of ambiguity that leaves me so hungry.” He nodded in agreeance with the twisted cruelty of his response you had pointed out. Jungkook didn’t know how or why he’d come to turn every corner and check each crevasse to find what could settle your appetite. This whole time, though, he sailed through this painstaking search without a trace of uncertainty. His illusion of disinterest and annoyance soon dissolved into the floor that your eyes hadn’t strayed from.

“Maybe if I lived in a quaint, not-lighthouse I would be satisfied with that answer, but I don’t. I live a normal, normal, normal life.” The repetition of your words stressed your fatigue of this dullness, your desire for everything just inches away from your fingertips.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a normal life. I think it’s wrong that we have put the idea of drama and excitement on a pedestal.” This outlook, unlike the last, did gain traction in stripping the thick ambiguity around Jungkook’s mind. To your surprise, you could be satisfied with the small pieces of this man’s mystery being chipped bit by bit.

He was well aware of his deep rooted appreciation that accompanied your eyes as it moved towards him once again. There was some sense of purposefulness in this glance that demoted his callousness to tender captivation.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“I have a hard time believing you only have one more question.” His doubtfulness didn’t seem to discourage you, or him.

“For real! Only one more, it’s important.” The only way to prove whether or not this question was truly important was for you to ask it. His head nodded his approval.

“What do you think makes us human?” Before he could answer, a swell of perplexity had overtaken his thoughts on this. You could tell, out of everyone, Jungkook would have a profound answer that could save you hours of contemplation over your philosophy essay’s prompt.

“That’s an interesting question.”

“An interesting question in need of an answer.” You prodded him for his response, though this was pointless if there was no response that could possibly be constructed. Not a response of reason that you seemed to require, but of feeling. Like an instinct, and that in itself made it inapplicable to this question.

“Ask me again some other time. I don’t know if the answer is that simple.”

But, of course, it was. The answer, in his eyes, was blindingly clear.

“I’ll hold you to that!” He gladly took accountability for that commitment. An unfamiliar contentment with the unknown had lodged in your chest when the promise of spending time together emerged through the once conditional circumstances. The promise that transformed those conditional circumstances to voluntary acts.

This humbling discovery left a wide grin on your face, beaming directly towards Jungkook.

Jungkook peered over to the antique clock placed on a shelf next to the window. The aversion of his eyes was to save face from how your soft smile that projected praise and attachment had effectively unnerved him; he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his fingers that twitched out of pure elation.

The hour hand stationed on the twelve carved in roman numerals verified how his company had erased any discern for the hours that passed. They had floated away so silently, slowly that you could have sworn time froze altogether.

“Oh shit, it’s midnight? Fuck me.” The decibels of your voice boomed against the walls, it could have shaken the stacks of books down to a pile of mess. “I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t even realize it was so late.” You unraveled yourself from the blanket and collected your belongings in a bit of a frenzy.

“It’s alright. I, um, I had a nice time.” He distanced himself from you swiftly as you dashed across the room to the edge of the stairs. Even in a hurried state, you still looked back to him and offered a smile, unsure if that was enough to suffice for a proper gesture of gratitude.

“Me too.” The words were close to inaudible, but you knew he heard them loud and clear, along with the string of implications that were laced in them.

“Oh and by the way, make good use of that umbrella. It looks like it could start raining again.” Your ears felt engorged with flames when he’d revealed his knowledge of your little secret. It was foolish of you to believe you could outsmart Jungkook because what you thought obscure was well within his range of astuteness and the umbrella, still damp from the rain, was apparent from the beginning.

You didn’t catch how he’d been smiling when you turned away bashfully, strutting down the stairs in an attempt to portray false confidence. But if you did, you would have picked up on his mutual indulgence in your visit, the absolute bliss laden in his eyes. You grasped tightly to the joy evoked from the thought of seeing him again, however your nerves held a tighter grasp that did not allow you to express this to him. Perhaps your giggles of excitement, surely heard by Jungkook, spilling from your throat as you rushed out the empty room or the way you clutched your umbrella to your chest in admittance you had purposefully kept that fact from him would give Jungkook a clue of how thankful you were to meet him. And even more so to be able to see him again.

As you parted from the lighthouse that was not a lighthouse, something in between, you felt that the comfort you once had taper off with the growing distance from the not-lighthouse. You were fraught with a gentle yearning to turn back, run up the spiraling stairs, settle yourself back into the right armchair, and ask humbly to stay a while longer.

Little did you know, Jungkook’s hopes coincided with yours like two concentric circles.

(One week later)

If it wasn’t the question left unanswered that motivated you, it was the fact that you missed the view of the beach from the window. Or maybe it was the countless supply of book titles that you didn’t get to finish inspecting. Perhaps it was that you missed how the soft blanket complimented the feathery cushion of the right armchair.

Any of these excuses could be suited to explain how you rushed through the town, determined, goal-oriented and passing down streets now ingrained in your memory, with a destination clear in mind.

But it definitely couldn't be how dearly you missed the sound of his voice when he read to you or his smile or the way he studied the waves with gentle affection. No, it couldn't be that.

Either way, you arrived at the base of the lighthouse. It had been a week since your first visit and you hoped that the invitation still stood for your return. Making your way through the empty room felt quick since you hadn't wasted time to notice how the table now had a vase of flowers in the center. Nor did you notice the new mat placed in front of the interior doorway to the lighthouse.

Your heart dropped from your chest when you reached over to the door knob only to find it was locked. You turned the handle back and forth as if that would miraculously function as a key to unlock the door. After a bit of knob fiddling had proven itself useless, you turned away with a huff of air releasing your frustration.

The click and turn of the handle had you twirling around optimistically and seeing him made all that disappointment dissolve.

“You’re back again.” He was smiling at you, then cocked his head to say come in. The moment you stepped into the lighthouse, its lackluster disappeared as if by magic. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t magic at all; it was the person that hid their umbrella, and asked him to read and promised to return as much as he promised to let you return.

“I believe you promised to keep reading to me.”

“Did I?” The reasons for your return weren’t all that important to discuss, both you and him were just glad to make your way up the stairs to the two armchairs once more, hearts both racing not because of the physical exertion from the stairs but from the excitement rasping through yours and his bodies.

“Yes, but this time I won’t fall asleep.”

“We’ll see about that.” There was no question that your intense focus wasn’t because you cared about the book he had been reading. In all honesty, you would not be able to summarize any bit of the plot if someone asked. You probably would have a hard time even naming the author of the book because what sank you into the words on the pages wasn’t the story itself, but the voice that read them. Jungkook made those languid paragraphs sound like the first words ever to be spoken; he reinvented the English language through his unique dialect, inflections and phrasing that had the words of Homer dancing off the pages. So, of course there was no question that you wouldn’t be able to name any of the characters or recognize the writing style of Homer because those details faded away, leaving only the memory of his voice with you.

This time, Jungkook didn’t have to offer you a seat. He made it clear that this spot had been reserved and waiting for you by the way the blanket had been folded and worn by the arm of the chair and the new pillow resting at the base of the chair’s backrest. You planted yourself on the cushion that felt more plump than the last time you sat in it and faced towards the large window that showcased the ocean’s energetic swaying.

“I would never get tired of this view.” You commented while Jungkook pulled back the curtains further to widen the seascape. He too was drawn to the deep blue waters making their way to and from the shore.

“I usually don’t leave the windows this open, but my love for the scenery of the ocean has rekindled.” When he said this, your eyes hadn’t budged from the window unlike Jungkook’s that peered over to you. You pretended not to notice that or the way your heartbeat had taken a quickness that had your skin growing warmer.

“How could it leave in the first place?”

“It is well known, especially by you, that having an abundance of something lessens your appreciation for it.” A corner of your lips lifted at this, knowing exactly what he had been referring to. Each wave passed by and in a comatose-like state, you wondered where on the shore it would land.

“No need to call me out already, Jungkook.” He had left the window and retrieved The Odyssey that hadn’t left the side table since the night he read it to you. This broke your trance, and you shifted to face the left armchair.

“You made it too easy, ___.”

“Okay, Hermit.” Your smile did wonders to ease the irritation in Jungkook’s chest to tenderness. Though he refused to admit it, this otherwise taunting nickname sounded affectionate coming from you.

“Technically a hermit is-”

“Technically, I don’t care about your technicalities. No amount of facts will persuade me that you aren’t a Hermit.” Jungkook dug his tongue into the side of his cheek to resist from joining in with your laughter. He’d been fidgeting with the book that was waiting to be read, but neither of you seemed to mind putting that off.

“Ho- How was your day?” You shouldn’t have felt as proud as you did for making a man who could read aloud for hours stutter over his own words, and nonetheless you were extremely flattered by this.

“It was good.” Good never really meant good, and Jungkook knew this.

“And what’s the truth?” Your playing field had once again been unleveled, the advantage returned into the palm of Jungkook’s hand in the blink of an eye. His perceptiveness had been bordering on annoying but still remained on the side of impressive.

“Well,” You bunched the blanket in your fists as an expression of worry, “My mom called today.” Anyone who could hear would be able to tell you sounded unhappy about that.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Jungkook articulated his question to get the answer he’d been looking for, finding the hostility in your voice far more interesting than the actual conversation between you and your mom.

“You don’t know my mom, but she projects her over achieving personality onto almost everyone she meets, but most of it goes onto me.” Your back had straightened when mentioning your mom, almost as if it were a reflex, like Pavlov’s dog, that you were conditioned to be on guard at the thought of her. “I don’t know why I get so mad at her when she does that because I know it comes from a place of love.”

Jungkook hummed softly, granting you space to continue talking.

“Yeah, it probably comes from a place of love but part of me doesn’t believe that. Part of me thinks every time she calls to check on me it’s really just a ploy for her to nag me on what I could be doing better.” You scoffed as the conversation from earlier in the morning played out in your head again. Envisioning the back and forth between you and your mother only fueled your frustration but you couldn’t help yourself. There was no stifling the seething anger imploding before Jungkook’s eyes. “She always says stuff like, ‘Maybe if you applied yourself more you would be doing better than this.’ or ‘I told you that you should have done this or that and now it’s too late’ or the infamous ‘Do you not care about your future?’ lecture that just gets under my skin. She’s so good at saying the wrong things at the wrong time. I don’t know how she does it but she always manages to rub dirt in the wound.”

“So, she’s never satisfied with you?” Jungkook observed.

“No, never! And you’d think a mother would be supportive or happy with all the things her child had already accomplished but somehow it’s never enough. And she knows what she’s doing. That makes it worse. She knows how she weaponizes my guilt against me.” You held your tongue from the much longer rant about to digress, feeling a sudden discomfort in the way you’d been complaining to Jungkook. You couldn’t understand why it was all too easy to talk of these kinds of things to him, why he looked so interested in what you were saying even when anyone else would have grown tired of you by now, why you found in him a warm confidant much more comforting than you’d expected, yet there was no way to dismiss this reality.

Jungkook did not offer advice, or tell you that you should be thankful or that maybe you were handling these situations poorly. He did none of that. His silence was more thoughtful than any number of things he could have said. He simply listened.

You rose from the chair to get a closer view of the sea. Past your reflection in the glass, the consecutive tides seemed to grapple over the next and the next; the previous wave always just short of reach to tackle the immediate wave. He had followed you without a word, living up to your desire to have him at your side. There was no need for mindless comments or condolences to fill the silence, only mindful amity, at your side, because watching the ocean with you was enough.

“So, that was my day.” It was the first thing spoken after a period of quiet, perfectly timed and delivered for it to bear a dry humor in its intention. Jungkook and you laughed, finding this the long needed release of tension in your head.

“Is this going to become a habitual thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Me complaining to you about my personal struggles that would have gone in my journal or somewhere far more private than this.” All said while your and Jungkook’s gazes didn’t wander from the view of the window. “Me inviting myself into your lighthouse, or not-lighthouse, whatever.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Two heads turned towards each other almost as if it were on que.

The way your pupils dilated and softened conveyed every bit of thanks you held in your heart but couldn’t muster the courage to voice. Jungkook’s doe-eyed smile thanked you likewise and confessed the gratitude for how you had rescued him from yet another lonesome afternoon with a curtained window, an unused blanket, an empty chair, and a melancholic silence as he read his one of thousands of books. Not including The Odyssey, that was for your ears only.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Maybe a little.” His tease succeeded to provoke that smile of yours. And even though that was a favor on his end, he was the one that felt graced by it. Realistically, a smile costs nothing yet there grew an enormous debt in his heart; and even though he couldn’t afford it, all he could do was bask in every detail your smile, of the crease of your eyes, and of the way your cheeks took the form of a sweet Spring Peach, and the scrunch of your nose and brows. Before he sank himself deeper in debt, Jungkook beckoned for the two of you to return to your seats and read all your worries away.

---

Who would have guessed that The Odyssey, of all things, would be the thing that would occupy most of your Fridays through the rest of the winter? Sometimes you visited a Sunday, and other times you’d find yourself needing to hear The Odyssey on a Wednesday evening or a Monday morning. The days on which you swung by the now familiar lighthouse would vary, but they remained a weekly occurrence.

Jungkook had grown comfortable with this routine, reading to you while you watched him and the waves, but mostly him. Occasionally, his reading would cease to an interruption of his own doing to ask how your day was in a very specific way that only Jungkook seemed to exhibit. He’d ask you say anything but ‘good’ or ‘boring’ and he’d clarify that he wanted you to not leave out any details.

“Why?” You would ask. And he’d look at you as if you set yourself on fire.

“It’s important to me.” He’d reply as if it were that simple, or the answer you were looking for. Still, if it was important to him you didn’t need any more persuading.

Like when you told him you stopped by a coffee shop, he’d tell you to specify which drink you ordered and how it tasted.

“Cinnamon.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“No, I prefer peppermint but sometimes I combine those flavors and that becomes my other favorite.”

“That sounds sweet.”

“It absolutely is.”

“Does that make you happy?”

“It makes my insides feel like Christmas.”

“Is Christmas a feeling?”

“It is to me!” He smiled at your childlike enthusiasm because it made life seem a lot more appealing than he’d ever believed. Before you, the world was a little greyer. After you, suddenly full of vibrance, saturated to the grandest extents.

Or the time you brought a candle to fill the air with something a bit more pleasant than the smell of the old, wet stones of the lighthouse.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a candle, vanilla and patchouli.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t remember. I just found it in my house and thought this place needed something sweet.”

“But you’re here.” Your teeth bit down on your tongue when he said this. You almost fallen trapped in figuring out what motivated him to say this, but the flattery of his comment was all too pleasing to ignore.

“But I don’t smell like vanilla and patchouli.” You said, only to save face from the fact that you suddenly felt like a deer in headlights when he looked at you, bracing for when he would crash into you and hoping to god you can absorb the exhilaration of souls colliding; and hoping to god he would crash into you.

“Could you light it, then?”

“Of course.”

And the room filled with a sweetness that complimented your company finely. Now, whenever he would smell the scents of vanilla and patchouli he would think of you, and you of him.

He would continue asking these simple questions, and so on.

Why he thought it was essential for you to relay these almost invaluable intricacies was beyond you, but it did make you feel heard; it made you feel held as it always did. It made the value of your life gone without the need to be earned or proven, the value of the smaller moments that fell between bigger moments.

It made it all okay that you felt like you stripped the clothes from your whole life off for him to revere and that he’d rarely ever display such emotional nudity for you; you were okay with lying bare before his eyes, vulnerable and pliant to his every whim. Even when you wanted to know all of these things about Jungkook and he’d hold them captive or he’d only offer half sufficient answers, you collected as many bits of the puzzle as possible to try and piece together his story.

“How are your parents, Jungkook?”

“Long gone.”

“Oh, Jungkook… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I watched them grow old and content and that softened the blow.”

“Are you lonely?”

Yes, it’s excruciating when you are not here. I am tormented in your absence and all too plagued with despondency and I wish you knew that.

“I’ve grown used to it.”

“So you have.”

“So I have.”

You did not want him to be lonely; you didn’t want him to ever be sad but you wanted him to be able to say that he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you he was lonely; you wanted him to want you to know his heart. You wanted him to feel as naked as you felt. Vagueness was all you could ever manage to arrest from his gated mind.

And for once, the little he had given was more than you could ever ask for.

Sunday mornings with Jungkook were your favorite. The ocean was tame during this time on Sundays specifically and sailed you into its calmness; you were half asleep, resting on the sill running along the base of the window panes. Spring had been approaching which meant there were radiant glimmers of the early sun that reflected and glided along the ripples of the waves. Jungkook once said that every time he looked at these little pieces of diamond rays, he believed the sun and the sea performed in devotion for you and him alone.

“I love that.” And indeed you did. The idea that no one else witnessed this ocean, not this one, not the way you and Jungkook had, was a greedy disposition but felt so true.

“Would you like me to read?” He said in place of, Is my voice properly fitting for something as lovely as this moment?

“I want you to talk, but not of books.” You blinked slowly at Jungkook, “Could you tell me about yourself? Just one thing, anything you choose.” He saw those specks of diamonds glimmering in your irises. He felt so close to you, sitting on the other end of the window, and close enough to finally surrender a bit of his gated mind.

“When I was a child, I knew my days were numbered. The details of why aren’t important, but I digress.” You stuffed a scoff down your throat at the assertion that the details weren’t important. Him, of all people, claiming the details were unimportant had you whirling in a paradox. “With this in mind, I did my best to fulfill everything any child would have wanted. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped because that list of desires was never ending.”

Was this what he meant when he said he was in my position once? You wondered.

“I spent all my time looking for the next best thing I could achieve, because the best things that I had was, as you know, never enough. One week, the best thing would be finding a four leaf clover to give to my mother. The next, it was being the first in line for the new, long awaited comic book. Or, it was the time my father took me fishing on the lake, and then seconds after it was the first fish I caught and threw back into the water, and that best thing was soon replaced by my father’s proud smile.”

Your throat tightened as you visualized a young Jungkook sitting on the dock with his father, full of youth and excitement, and how nostalgia had ripened into your heart even though you had no place in this memory of his. This dream-like sequence had compelled a few tears to fill your eyes, fogging your vision of the older Jungkook that sat before you.

“When I grew older, in my adolescent and teenage years, the next best thing was fulfilling a newfound passion. It prompted me to buy out almost the entire library and major in World Literature. I spent the rest of my days from then on immersed in reading, as you can see. It was the only place I felt like I was achieving the next best thing, and it was cruel when I came to realize there was no way in hell I could finish all the books I’d collected in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time... for the next best thing to come along, I guess.” This answer appeared fabricated, but was subtle enough to pass through your mind without a second thought.

“And did it? Did it come along?”

It would have made no difference if your question had been asked to a brick wall because Jungkook brushed it off as he did every other question that would have given you another piece of his puzzle. He took precautions to avoid a defeat to your pouting by walking over to the left armchair and burying his face in the book’s fortitude. Before you had the chance to reiterate your question, Jungkook began to read, making it all too clear he was evading.

“Jungkook?” You whined to which he paid no mind by continuing to read.

“Is he being serious right now?” Again, you might as well have been talking to an inanimate object. There was nothing to be done when he lodged his restraint other than joining him in your armchair, quietly, permissively.

Every day, like this one, spent with him had you convinced it couldn’t be surpassed in enjoyment. And every day, your expectations had been exceeded. That was something you’d never think could happen. Soon, the cares and worries of this Winter melted as the avenue of Spring had unfolded before you. A long path, surrounded with flower blossoms and diamond coated seas, or in other words, the unfathomable had fallen into your hands.

The remainder of this pleasant Sunday had been consumed by The Odyssey and Jungkook’s voice singing its words as smoothly as the waves surrounding the lighthouse and small conversations during the pauses of his reading. One struck you into reminiscence of the first night you met.

“You never answered my question.” He paused, flipping through the many unanswered questions he’d left with you. Jungkook raised his brow to order specification of which one you referred to.

“What makes us human?” The due date of your essay passed over two months ago, however this didn’t diminish your curiosity to know his answer.

“In all honesty,” He paused and looked to assure you would believe his answer would be honest, or honest enough to cater your satisfaction. “I think it’s our desire to achieve the last best thing.”

Every fiber in you compiled its own list of questions in regards to his yet again ambiguous answer, though you had grown to accept that as a part of Jungkook. And you sure as hell accepted Jungkook, ambiguity and all.

“Hm.” It didn’t take a mind reader to know you had theorized any and all connotations branching off from his answer and he didn’t mind that you could be lost in search of whatever the actual meaning of it was.

The moon was in its fullest bloom tonight, and tomorrow, it would begin to wane into a crescent then into nothing but an empty space full of new and perhaps fortunate opportunities. Jungkook found the romance of this lunar phase well equipped for the dusty instrument he discovered in the base of the lighthouse.

“I found something that I think you’d like.” Your ears perked like a dog when it’d been presented with treats. “But you have to go get it. It’s in the other room.”

Whatever this surprise was, it had excited you enough to ignore how you’d have to descend and re-ascend the many stairs that would surely tire you. Your eager legs would have jumped right from the platform to the bottom of the lighthouse if the reality didn’t result in broken bones. As you rushed to the door to the other room, you pushed through and discovered a telescope standing in the corner of the otherwise empty space. A few moments later you were hustling back up the stairs, the telescope making the re-ascension of the stairs ten times as strenuous. All the while, Jungkook just stared in amusement at the way you struggled your way to the platform.

“No, I don’t want any help, thank you!” You said sarcastically through grunts of exertion before positioning the instrument in front of the window.

“Well, I didn’t offer you any, so, you’re very welcome.” He stood on the other side of the telescope, admiring the way you fell so easily in love with it, hands scaling the length of the scope.

“Do I just?” You pointed to the eyepiece at the end of the rod and he nodded. You brought your eye to the magnifying glass which was flooded with the enchanting glow of the stars. You’d never seen them this close, but this little gift of Jungkook’s had catapulted you into the illuminated abyss of the night sky. A measly woah was all that squeaked from your voice, because all the other words were stolen by the stars.

“Can you find any constellations?” He’d seen all the stars in the galaxy; that he was sure of. But none had shone brighter than the person he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Three o’clock had crept onto the antique clock, this late hour had worn down Jungkook’s walls completely as the soft glow of adornment laminated his eyes.

“I think I see ORion's belt. That’s the only one I know other than the Big Dipper.” You laughed at your own lack of knowledge of the stars. Knowledge didn’t seem to matter though, the beauty of the stardusted sky had taken care of that deficiency. You lifted yourself away from the telescope, allowing Jungkook a turn to stargaze.

“Have you heard of the Astral Plane?” Jungkook asking you something other than, ‘how was your day’, was a rare occurrence which most likely meant this was of some importance.

“I’ve heard of it, but I think I’ll need you to refresh my memory.” You really did need clarification on what exactly the Astral Plane entailed, though you mainly just wanted to hear him explain it.

“Some say it lies in the fourth dimension. It isn’t tangible or something that can be touched. It lies between everything, every atom, every cell, every city and forest and mountain and even between the crevasses of one’s own mind and soul. A place like this is full of divinity and complete attainment and the way it is reached has been theorized by many.” Jungkook’s meticulous readjustments of the telescope had you wondering which constellations he was searching for, or maybe he’d been looking for Venus or Mars or the Moon. “Some say you arrive there in your dreams, or when you reach enlightenment, or when death draws its curtain on you… I-I don't know why but I’ve always thought that it was stitched into the sky. Far beyond our galaxy, maybe the Astral Plane has situated itself in between each star, just like it does our souls, and exists as the vastness of outer space.” It turned out he wasn't looking for any of those things, he was looking for the Astral Plane.

Could the heat rising throughout your body be merely adoration, or was it something along the lines of a forlorn longing? When he spoke, you felt this sensation growing dense in your bones; you felt a gravitation towards him.

“Seems about right to me.” Fondness had stained your tone which filled some void in Jungkook’s hungry heart, and he’d failed to predict you were the one that would be able to settle it. “Maybe we’ll never reach the Astral Plane, but at least I’m here with you.”

When you said this, the hairs on his arms pointed towards the ceiling. For once in a very, very long time, Jungkook felt a euphoric resurgence striking through the catacombs of his soul and hot tears dripping down the expanse of his cheeks, to the tip of his chin, and onto the glass scope that was shielding this sudden emotional combustion. He blinked away the tears to the best of his abilities and turned away from you and the telescope and the sky. Jungkook felt the push of air from your movement towards him, but he shifted further away.

“Are yo-”

“I found a cluster of stardust, go look.” He averted you from him and you always fell victim to every trick in his book.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” The grip you had on the telescope was firm, like you were trying to hold onto the stars themselves.

“Amazing.” He said. This reiteration wasn’t for the stars, however. He wondered if you knew that. He wondered if you could feel how consumed he was by your magnificence under the full moon that reigned with gentleness over the waves. The once wild tides, now moving with the same serenity and romance embedded into Jungkook and this lighthouse. He wondered if you could see he had been emotionally disrobed and bearing all his affection for you. And he wondered how he was so okay with that.

Six o’clock didn’t feel like six o’clock. Your eyes that struggled to keep open told you otherwise, so again you and him were parting ways as the sun had begun dawning over the horizon and there were no more stars to fill the hours slipping away. Jungkook did all he could to compose himself. He’d offered to walk you out; you reached the door that led to the dewy, Spring air awaiting your departure from the lighthouse.

“Wait, ___!” This exclamation echoed louder than the beating of his crimson heart. After stepping through the threshold, you turned to meet his gaze, teary-eyed from what you guessed was from lack of sleep. Teary-eyed from what he knew was because of another egregious goodbye. “Thank you.”

This moment seemed fitting to test the theory that actions speak louder than words. This moment called for the lapse of courage in need to act, not speak. This moment was the moment when you finally expressed the thankfulness that, to you, seemed to outweigh his by pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. It was much colder than your lips and the docile warmth of the morning, but once you pulled away the warmth had stained his cheek.

Jungkook felt like every cell in his body was evaporating into the space around him. Like the way a fire would extend its heat into the air or the way Spring melted away the frost ridden Winter, your act had covered him in a blanket of love and refuge from the loneliness once vaulting his heart. And it certainly spoke louder than words; all the words in every book Jungkook had ever read and the words left unsaid and the words passing between everyone in the universe.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Hermit! You helped me see Orion’s Belt up close and personal!” You called as your strides began a slow fleet from a laughing Jungkook. You waved, now standing a generous distance from him, and he found this gave him the space needed to finally let his tears fall.

“I love you.” He whispered, hoping the wind would carry it to your ears and heart.

A revelation had overcome him, and no matter how many times he tried to wipe the tears away, they’d be instantly replenished like a stream of water rushing from a conquered dam, spilling over endlessly, with all control suspended in the air around him.

Was it finally here? The last, best thing?

---

A week after the stargazing, your mind had mapped out the stars as you too searched for that Astral Plane. To you, Jungkook’s proposition of it being strewn in the night sky was the only theoretical that made sense. You wanted to flaunt your newfound passion for this concept he’d introduced, and admittedly - and more importantly - you wanted to kiss him again, leading to yet another blissful walk down the seashore to the lighthouse. The air was warm but not humid, carrying a breeze that evened out the sun’s heat nicely. A few pillows of clouds were cascading through the sky, never staying in one spot for too long; you’d come to appreciate each one’s temporary presence and when they passed, you grew to appreciate that as well. The gaze once fixed on the sand had now traveled to the waves of much gentler motion than ever before.

This walk, unlike the dozens of others, felt different. The streets looked lovely and the air felt clean in your chest, giving you a pleasant journey far more intimate than the last. Then you realized, it felt like you were walking back home.

When you grew closer to the lighthouse, you noticed the curtains had been drawn which was strikingly unusual for a sunny day such as this one. This was a passing observation as you made your way to the base of the lighthouse.

Through the door to the room before the lighthouse, you were taken aback to find your armchair sitting in front of the table. you walked up to discover a single, folded parchment sealed with a red wax stamp labeled with your name along the top of the paper.

This felt eerie, for some reason, and you called out his name only to be met with silence, before sitting yourself down and unsealing the note.

It read in his voice:

My Dearest, ___

I wrote this to relay a lot of things left unsaid. The first being goodbye. I’m sorry to have to leave you like this, though no amount of remorse could possibly appease my actions.

Your heartbeat had grown rampant, until your eyes read those words. It was then when it stopped altogether. Still, you continued to read.

I kept things from you like the fact that our encounter in the town’s square was all but coincidental. The truth is scary, and my truth would have turned you away from the beginning. It was selfish, I admit, but I do not think I could have endured such a loss. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark all this time, but I am beyond gratified for what you granted me in spite of that.

Maybe it might seem cruel. You are not alone in feeling that — never alone. But, we were never meant to spend every Sunday morning, or Friday evening, or Wednesday afternoon together to watch the waves float along with the hours lost reading to you; I knew this was not the end of your story, just mine.

The books I have read over and over have imprisoned me in search of the “next best thing”. To my dismay, I thought I had run out of time to find it. But then you came along. You helped set me free by allowing me to live out a few more “best things” through the way you shared your life with me, unselfishly, warmly, kindly— You helped me move on.

I know you too will move on from this. I hope I could at least leave you with the tools and courage to find each “next best thing” in store. If not that, then this lighthouse, open to you and only you, and a myriad of good memories to ease our parting. I know in my heart you deserve nothing less.

I hope you find contentment somewhere in the sea or on the sand or in the stars, or perhaps somewhere in between.

Once you do, we will meet again within the Astral Plane, my love. I swear it. And if you miss me, just look through the telescope and find me woven in the spaces amidst Orion’s Belt.

Thank you. Again and again I thank you and it is still not enough. Thank you for you, for your warmth, for your salvation, for your smile, for your endless questions, for re-introducing me to the aroma of vanilla and patchouli but it was not as sweet as your companionship, for putting good use of the right armchair and the view from our window, for making the odyssey a little less lonely to read, and thank you for stepping into my lighthouse and my life.

Don't you see, it was you. You were my last, best thing.

with love and sorrow,

Jeon Jungkook

Before you got to the end of the letter, you were racing up the spiraling stairs, ignoring the burn in your tightened chest, how the air in the lighthouse had suffocated your lungs. The dizziness that blurred your eyes had not slowed your climb up the stairs, and the wetness of your tears now seeping into his letter.

You reached the top, The Odyssey greeting you on the chair Jungkook would have been seated in. Your breaths were staggered and warm, filling the mournful emptiness of the lighthouse.

“Jungkook.” You whispered. You begged for a reply. The curtains were drawn over the window, like never before, and exposed a bronze plaque peeking out from the end of the fabric. You pushed the drapes aside to read what was engraved into the metal plate and the first page of The Odyssey that hung below it.

In loving memory of our beloved son, Jeon Jungkook. May he rest in peace. 1918-1942.

The note below read:

The Odyssey

Jeon and ___ Lighthouse.

You pieced the puzzle together, finally. And with that, came the final picture, so beautiful and mesmerizing and everything you could have ever hoped for, and more.

“Jungkook.” You repeated as a bid of farewell, with a heart full of satisfaction and content, and Jungkook. You pressed the letter to your chest in hopes his words would mend your aching heart.

And it was true, he was not your last best thing, only one of them.

But he was undoubtedly your most cherished and beloved best thing.

712 notes · View notes

coffeeandcalligraphy · 4 years ago

Note

Please tell us more about Seventh Virtue–we need more? Also what was your general thought process for writing this right now?

Hello!! Seventh Virtue is the fantastical version of the Fostered series (which I’ve been writing for many years as you probably already know)! I came up with the initial idea for this project back in the summer of 2019, but knew I’d probably never write it because at the time, I couldn’t see myself writing beyond literary fiction (and also: I know nothing about fantasy :)) in fact I think I’ve only ever read 3 fantasy books from the same series and that was years ago)!

This led to why I’m writing it right now, actually! Earlier this week, my sister and I binge watched Shadow and Bone and it reminded me of this project (which I’d called Fostered But It’s Magic haha). I couldn’t help but delve more and more into the project as the days progressed, and so I decided I’d try to draft it. I actually tried to draft this project once before as a screenplay because I thought it’d translate better to screen, but gave up FAST when I realized I am terrible at screenwriting! With this in mind, I knew I wanted to write this project, but I’m also impatient, and know I want to write more things this summer. TBH, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my vacation writing another Fostered book (I planned to write something outside of this universe but apparently it doesn’t want me to??) so yesterday at 1AM, I came up with a very... stupid idea to write 10k words in one day.

I made this decision strictly for anxiety exposure. I’m exporting the vlog where I chat about this experience so I won’t delve too much into it. TL;DR: I wrote 11k words yesterday, and finished the first chapter (almost done the second).

So what’s the book about?? Honestly, it’s pretty loose right now. This is the pitch I wrote way back in 2019, which is more or less accurate:

After being tormented by nightmares of his ex lover, which result in violent hot flashes and an inability to keep up a job, Harrison seeks a magical intervention. When the clairvoyant he hopes will cure his strange ailment turns out to be a con woman—and his old friend, Reeve—he is thrown back into the past and forced to rekindle relationships he thought he’d left behind.

The main thing that’s surprised me since drafting is how contemporary this world is?? Despite being literally fantasy, this setting is the most contemporary-aligned compared to the rest of the series. Fostered book 1-6 take place in a sort of dystopia (which gets softer and softer as the books continue), whereas Moth Work and Feeding Habits take place in older-contemporary times (2006)! This book on the other hand I could certainly see taking place in some sort of alternate 2019 (because we :) cannot include the pandemic years :)). It’s also magnificently funny?? I feel really blessed to have just decided to write this book. I know about 10% of what is going on at all times, but it’s so fun to draft!

Something I didn’t expect initially was how big a presence Foster would have in this book! I kind of :) forgot about Foster in Moth Work/Feeding Habits (so sorry he is still an icon), and while I knew he’d be Harrison’s roommate, I kind of assumed he’d be a side character?? But no, he said, I am reclaiming my “Main Cast” title and you can do nothing to stop me. For the majority of what I’ve written, Harrison and Foster are living in the past. This is because Foster can ~time travel, but is incredibly ethical and sustainable, so he refuses to actually change the past/do anything that would affect the present/future. After a hex goes wrong and results in Harrison’s mother getting into an accident and eventually disappearing, Harrison’s life is in literal shambles. Tormented by nightmares and hot flashes, he is NOT living his best life. To cope, Foster agrees to take them back to the past where he can relive the last 5 days before his mother’s accident, thinking they will only stay there for that one week. But when they’ve repeated the same week dozens of time, Foster ups the pressure on Harrison to give him the okay to head back to the present. And when these “hot flashes”/nightmares get even worse, Foster tells Harrison about a “healer” who cured his broken wrist (so he could plant his tomatoes lol), Harrison concedes and they finally head back to present day so he too can visit this woman, who is actually their old friend, Reeve.

This book is SO angsty and hilarious! I think my favourite thing about it is that I get to write Lonan and Harrison falling in love again lol, which I didn’t exactly get to experience in the conventional way (the first time around). By the time we meet Lonan (who is introduced in book 2), he and Harrison already have a pretty complex relationship. This relationship gets even more tangled in book 3, and book 5 is where we get to see the first glimpses of a romance. Somewhere in this timeline, between books 3-5, they ~fell in love, but I don’t know when! I think most of that occurred off the page, so even I don’t know. What’s so fun is now I get to glimpse into that a little bit more. Their relationship is my favourite thing and always has been, about this entire series, so I’m so stoked to finally get to dabble with it from the beginning. All I really know at the moment is that they meet because Lonan catches Harrison being a thief lol so, so much fun tension already to work with!

I’m not sure if I’ll finish this, mostly because the prospect of writing an 80k novel sort of terrifies me?? The project is almost 12k at the moment, and we really have only scratched the very surface, so we’ll see! I haven’t written genre fiction in so long and I’m adoring this! It’s also so much less strenuous than writing literary lols so perfect because I’m still a little wiped out after my semester ended!

Here’s an excerpt when Harrison meets up with Reeve for the first time:

The shop’s name is The Lark’s Lagoon. When he enters, a string of freshwater shells clatter, like bells would. She is not at the table like she was in the past, so he putters around the shop. Some of the things she sells are silly. Plastic mood rings that are clearly heat activated and more suited for a child but marketed to women in their thirties. Ping pong balls with the inscription enchanted aims. Snowglobes with a miniature witch figurine who says I’ll tell your fortune when you shake it.

“That’s a bestseller.” Her voice comes so suddenly that Harrison drops the globe. It shatters across the floor in a glittery bundle. “So you’re going to need to pay for that.”

Harrison describing Lonan lol:

Harrison hated him. He was cute, but Harrison hated him.

Harrison chilling in his timeloop where he can’t be seen:

It’s harder avoiding birds than he thinks. Every time one spots him, his body lurches, magnetized in the direction of the apartment. If it weren’t for the trees he latches onto along the way, he’d already be back at the brownstone listening to Foster lecture him on not being seen and not exploiting his magic. So he becomes more careful. Checks every direction—up down, left, right, diagonally, whatever—until he is certain no one can see him.

Some Stressed Foster dialogue lol I love him protect him at all costs:

“How many times have I told you that you cannot be seen in the timeloop? I woke up with a migraine five minutes ago and when I went to find you, realized you’d slipped out. Do you know how my brain feels when you stretch the timeloop like that? It feels like someone’s cracking it. My brain, a walnut. You, a nutcracker. Not to mention, you didn’t even leave a note. What if you were robbed? Or murdered? What if they dismembered you and I had no idea?

so that’s this project! don’t see any reason to stop writing it, so I’ll make an update on it soon! :) let me know if you have any more q’s!

#asks #writing #fostered #seventhvirtue

18 notes · View notes

ottogatto · 4 years ago

Text

Severus Snape in HP 1 - Full Commentary

Hello folks, here are most of what I commented about Snape. Sometimes it’s just a personal thought, a little anecdote, sometimes it deals about the problematics the character of Snape rises. Don’t worry though, key comments on his character will have their own separate post. I won’t quote everytime he gets mentioned, and sometimes I’ll quote passages where he��s not mentioned but he makes me think of him.

The model is like this: The points starts with a quote from the book - certain words will be put in bold - and the quote is followed with commentary. It follows chronological order. Every time a new commentary appears, the next quote will have its own bullet; and if there’s no commentary or if the transcript isn’t cut, the text will be warped. I tried to use bigger quotes in case we need to understand the context in which the quote is used, but because I don’t want my file to be too heavy, I won’t use introduction to the scene. Sorry, I’m not really here to explain what happened in HP1, though I will precise the chapters involved.

Comments are in parenthesis and I haven’t used the “” for the dialogue, but please don’t judge, it’s really tiring and I wanted to spend my energy on commenting rather than perfecting the transcripts.

As usual I don’t see much problems with what I’ve written now but when I’ll post I might modify things so... don’t judge too hard in the beginning. Maybe I’ll perfect the commentary? If I can, I’ll use a link for the PDF version of what I’ve written, I just need to know where I can publish the PDF...

Beware, it is very very long. I have completed 16 pages (12k words). So take a seat and... well, I hope you’ll enjoy.

Chp 1 - The Boy Who Lived

· Albus Dumbledore didn’t seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. (There are lots of passages like these that make me think of Snape and that can hint to what his life as a child could have been. For instance, his name is Severus and could have aroused mockery.)

Chp 2 – The Vanishing Glass

Chp 3 – The Letters from No One

· They stuff people’s heads down the toilet first day at Stonewall.

· Smetling boys […] also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

· Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the window-sill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

‘‘Scuse me, but is one of you Mr H. Potter? Only I got about an ‘undred of these at the front desk.’

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr H. Potter, Room 17, Railview Hotel, Cokeworth.

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

‘I’ll take them,’ said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her for the dining room. (See my post about the Durlseys: Snape and Lily lived in Cokeworth.)

Chp 4 – The Keeper of Keys

· This wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… Terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. (I guess that’s where the idea that Snape joined then defected the winning side come from.)

· Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their days! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get them on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ to do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em… maybe he just wanted ‘em outta the way. (Several ideas here. First, as I take care to precise to people, James somehow became Head Boy despite his bullying attitude and past illegal activities, and this interest in him can be explained by how close his family was to Dumbledore. Second, Hagrid says that it was common for Voldemort to try and have people join him. Why is it a mystery though that he didn’t try that with a widely known anti-Voldemort/anti-Slytherin Potter and a Muggle-Born? Could Voldemort hire Muggle-Borns? Third, here Hagrid says that Voldemort came for the family, the parents, that Harry himself. Later it will be deduced that he came for Harry first… although the prospect of defeating those who defied him thrice would be tempting on its own. Does this mean though that if they hadn’t been close enough to Dumbledore, Voldemort would have asked them sooner if they wanted to join him, while Severus was there? What did Snape think about this, if he came to learn that?)

· Knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people you couldn’t find. (Hagrid idealizes Harry’s parents. After all, it’s hard to speak of the dead. It is sad that the books don’t end with the idea that parents, or the family, don’t need to be perfect. However, I’m still surprised Hagrid wouldn’t come to say “Nicer people you couldn’t find” when he’d been a gamekeeper during Snape’s scholarity.)

Chp 5 – Diagon Alley

· Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. (OOooooooo Snape)

Chp 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

Chp 7 – The Sorting Hat

· Professor Quirell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. (First description. Snape is already coded Jewish/Semite. In fact I would argue that Snape incarnated the male version of the cliché ugly witches brewing potions, with their absurd big noses, wicked smiles, black hair, weird skin, crooked teeth and ugliness. Just look at images of wicked witches on Google. (I have images on my Word file but I can’t post them here, oopsie)

God this is cruel. To think that Snape did fly on a broom, and that Boggart Snape is forced into ridiculous women clothing… Meanwhile you have the cliché of the sexy witches, ie Lily and Ginny (just look on the Internet).

(There’s an image of a red-haired witch on a broom with a cat: The Potters had a cat, I think it came from Lily.)

I think that before they would demonize red-haired because of their association with witches in England. Even now we hear things like “red-haired have no soul”, “they smell”, etc. But am I the only one finding this weird? Hasn’t Rowling used and mixed clichés of wizards and witches?

· Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. (There are lots of passages where Harry stare at him but Snape quits looking back, like at the end of GoF or the first Defence class of HBP.)

· Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirell’s turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn’t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully – and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggles with it – then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold – there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking. (What does this dream even mean? Why is Harry having this dream though? Is it a way to make the reader suspect that Malfoy and Snape are bad people? To implent the idea that Snape will try to kill Harry?)

Chp 8 – The Potions Master

· The Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry’s name.

His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. (I love this metaphor. But the idea that his eyes were empty is… interesting. Often eyes are said to be empty when someone doesn’t feel anything anymore, often because of trauma; later we will learn that Snape can indeed use Occlumency to empty his mind. Empty eyes can also refer to how he is apathetic, which suits him well. All in all, eyes described as empty in a work make me think that the person has suffered a lot, or that they are born a little… uncommon. They are, also with bad-grooming, symbols of depression and suicide. Have an example of what I imagine:Please check Anime Empty/Blank Eyes on Google)

· Like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. (A lot of comparisons with other teachers/adults… Maybe he learned from them? Anyway, if he does things like McGonagall and Flitwick, then it’s no wonder to think his teaching habits were in the norm.)

· A bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach. (Lorrie Kim says that it’s a way to draw attention and make the students want to prove they’re not a dunderhead, in other words, make them interested in Potions. And it works on Hermione)

· Potter! Said Snape suddenly. (It’s sudden and contrasts with his previous speech… no ‘Mr’ Potter.)

· Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. Tut, tut – fame clearly isn’t everything. (I think he clicks his tongue behind his teeth to make that sound. Why does he need to belittle Harry though? Because of his spying role? Because he thinks Harry thrives in popularity, as he’ll tell Dumbledore later: “delighted to find himself famous”, thus proving he’s delusional? Or just out of spite?)

· Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter? (But he did, Snape. He did.)

· Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. (He does this several times in the series)

· He had looked through his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? (Why is Harry thinking about how he didn’t learn One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, instead of Magical Drafts and Potions? Isn’t that a tactic from the narrator to empathize on how impossible to learn “one thousand” things in one month and how what Snape is asking is impossible, thus unfair? Isn’t it a bit cheap? Is it allowed and required in Hogwarts that students read their books in preparation for the following year? I don’t think so, but I know it was done in ancient schools. Anyway… those questions are pretty obviously asked to call Harry stupid.)

· At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. (Hermione can’t control herself. Imagine standing up just to answer a question. The fuck?)

· I don’t know, said Harry quietly. I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus’ eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased. (In HBP Seamus is also glad that Harry cheeks Snape. Snape’s plan to humiliate Harry backfired. But hey, you can only blame yourself.)

· And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter. (You provoked him, sweetie, and you had no right technically. Notice how it’s only one point. What hurts is not the amount of points retrieved but what it means: Snape has antagonized Harry from the first lesson, and he’s very capable of finding reasons to punish him if he wants. I wonder what would have happened if Harry hadn’t cheeked him back?)

· Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. (Harry isn’t the whole Gryff house, but since the punishments by points are meant to be collective, it affects the house… However I think it’s also a sign of how the narrator is quick to say Snape is unfair to Gryffindors in general, from Harry’s point of view, and not ‘just’ Harry.)

· Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. (Boils from touching a cauldron… boils from Furnunculus, or fires in the chimneys… Also Snape puts first years into pairs. In third year I think he starts to separate them. I’m not sure.)

· He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. (1) Snape’s first class uses dried nettles and Snape’s riddle involves nettle wine because he’s a character inspired from John Nettleship. Snape’s totem plant is a nettle – and alright, asphodel, wormwood and aconite. 2) I think there too, the narrator is quick on antagonizing Snape. The text implies that he does criticize his Slytherins as well – although it’s not explicitly said – and just not Malfoy. Does Draco already have a talent/knowledge in Potions that’d justify the lack of criticism other than being favouritism? Maybe that’s because he does succeed really well. Malfoy had broom lessons, surely he had Potions ones as well, from Snape or someone else. The difference here? The book won’t say that complimenting Hermione the most is bordering on favouritism, because you know, “she deserves it” – although she also was introduced as “a nightmare” – but will precise that when Snape compliments Draco, he seemed to like him and, in our minds, it draws the conclusion it’s for this reason alone that he’s congratulating him. In other words, the text wants us to believe that Draco doesn’t deserve compliments. What we know however is that the book tends to judge characters based on how they’re presented to Harry rather than from an objective point of view – for instance, Hagrid “punishes” Dudley and we are supposed to find it fair as he was a bully, when an objective point of view will show that since Hagrid couldn’t know Dudley was a bully but could just assume that a “fat Muggle” was to be insulted – Dudley didn’t try to eat the cake in the books – what he did in attacking Duldley and trying to turn him into a pig is actually a horrible scene (see critic about Hagrid); McGonagall only retrieves 5 points from Hermione, and we suppose it’s fair because she didn’t actually try to beat the troll, but when we consider that McGonagall punished her with 50 points for being out of curfew out-of-bounds later, we can conclude that McGonagall punishes near-suicide and disobedience 10 times less than a nighttime stroll – meaning she’s inconsistent/illogical in her punishments. Here, Draco is introduced as a bully and undeserving of love or compliments because of that… except that objectively, if he does his potion well, then he has the right to be complimented without it being implied to be favouritism. 3) The text also implies Snape criticized Hermione, but is it really unjustified? We don’t know. Hermione has been proven to have difficulties with a practical use of magic – riding a broomstick, repelling the Devil’s Snare, defeating her Boggart – maybe at first she had difficulties in brewing Potions. That’s not something she could have learned at home or in books. It’d be logical she learned how to brew better throughout the months. 4) Hermione is complimented by her teachers too – in HP1 alone we have McGonagall twice and Flitwick doing just that before Harry and Ron become friends with her – the difference is that Snape will compliment others than the best of the class. Though is that such a bad thing in itself? I remember that good teachers were those who didn’t focus on the gifted only. 5) And you know what it makes me think of? There’s an essay about John Nettleship that explains he could be mistakenly perceived as favouring the gifted because he was passionate in his job and had the tendency to show appreciation to those showing real involvement. Meanwhile, JK Rowling didn’t participate much – she hated Chemistry, she didn’t seem to succeed, thus why she chose a Potions Master to be the bad teacher. We have two elements. First Netlleship was said to try and make participate people with difficulties, like Rowling, but because she often “didn’t know” the answer, she might have felt pressured or ridiculed purposefully by her teacher – in the books, Harry is asked questions he can’t possibly answer, since he “can’t remember everything”, and Neville gets pressured. At the same time, Hermione, Rowling’s self-insert, is said to try and participate but getting ignored by Snape, who prefers to compliment other people. Maybe this is an aspect of how Rowling perceived favouritism in Nettleship? )

· He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs. (Jealous much, Harry? McGonagall had just done the same for Hermione’s needle! In third year she’ll compare Hermione to Seamus to prove he’d better take an example on her. I don’t remember the quote well, but I do know that comparing students like that is not that healthy…)

· When clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing gilled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’ cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class were standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

Idiot boy! Snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? (When Snape is stressed he gets angry.)

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

Take him up to the hospital wing, Snape spat at Seamus. (Contrary to Hooch, Snape takes care to ask for the other member of the pair, aka a student, to bring Neville to the hospital. Thus Snape won’t leave his class in a room full of potions that can explode and cauldrons that can burn. However… why didn’t you have a cure for boils to help Neville if you are specifically in a class where students can burn themselves because of the potions, the fire and the cauldrons? There are lots of problems in a school such as Hogwarts, especially concerning Potions courses from what I’ve seen in HP1, but even that should have been accessible to you.)

· I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty. (A precision. Snape isn’t ‘always nasty’. He can turn nasty if we go too far.)

· Snape’s always taking points off Fred and George. (Not surprising though, they keep doing pranks and breaking rules.)

· Snape hasn’t taken any points from students other than the two from Harry. Is that what we call an unforgiving absolute bully? If he had been, he’d have retrieved more than 2 points and would have bullied other Gryffindors. He hasn’t.

· Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students. (We have two elements. 1) People reassure Harry in saying that what Snape does is not to worry about; they don’t see the problem right away. Hagrid, the adult Harry trusts the most for now, is the first to quite dismiss Harry’s concerns, and not do something about it; maybe it broke Harry’s belief that adults would speak with Snape so he wouldn’t do that. People close to Harry downplay this behavior… which is something that can be done casually in school, and if it can help some people, it can also send the message that the teacher will be defended/excused for their bullying. 2) They do compare Harry with other students, but Harry isn’t a student like any other. So there are two possibilities: either Snape doesn’t treat Harry differently than others, despite his genuine hate against him, and thus implies that what he does against Harry actually isn’t caused by hate, which would be a little surprising considering how the book present things, but which corresponds to how Snape will say to the Minister that he tries to treat all of his students fairly, including Harry – interestingly we can imagine that Fudge is right when he says that everybody has a soft spot for Harry, which is shown regularly in the books, meaning Harry can get used to special treatment, and by consequence, when Snape does something right but that doesn’t please Harry because he expected favouritism even unconsciously, Snape will be called unfair unfairly; or Snape does treat Harry differently and this implies that he treats other students in a kinder manner, despite “hardly liking” any of them, which would be logical and good but a little weird as Snape is described as generally being in a bad mood.)

· But he seemed to really hate me.

Rubbish! Said Hagrid. Why should he?

Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking that Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. (Acceptation of Snape’s behaviour? Either way Hagrid is the one that quite says Harry is mistaken/lies about how wrong what Snape did was. And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn’t want to tell Harry? For instance, does he know that Snape was badly treated by the Marauders? Does he think that Snape kind of “deserves” to have his way, or that it’s understandable and he draws the conclusion that it’s excusable? It’s Hagrid, folks.)

· Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn’t want to tell Harry? (Suspicion about the Stone starts from there.)

Chp 9

· You’re a lot braver now you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you, said Harry coolly. (And doesn’t that remind us of some particular gang? Harry has common points with Snape: “[Coward?] Your father would never attack me unless it was four-on-one, what would you call that, I wonder?”)

Chp 10 – The Midnight Duel

· Oh, well done! Cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it! (Same thing than McGonagall, but when Snape congratulates Malfoy it’s favouritism you know)

· Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realised that he’d already been at Hogwarts two months. (So that’s where I start to draw a theory: Harry has spent two months in Hogwarts and it seems quick. Usually it happens when you spend a really good time. But if Snape really was unbearable, why don’t we hear anything else than what happened in the first lesson? Why isn’t he said to have done something meanwhile, although he probably heard, like Flitwick, that Harry has been given special treatment with being allowed to play Quidditch as a first-year and being given the best broom of the time? My theory is that Snape… remained cool. For that, I have listed all the times Harry is punished by Snape or feels he gets bullied, along with the context. You’ll see something interesting in the end.)

· A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirell bringing up the rear. (BROTP)

· Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her looks so angry. Her lips were white.

“What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with a cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was stills tanding with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?” (McGonagall shares the same traits as Snape when she’s angry: lips become white, her fury is cold. They are that similar.)

· Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. (Interesting. Snape doesn’t pay attention to Harry until he hears that he wasn’t in his dormitory, which prompt Snape to give Harry a piercing look, which can be seen as attempt in Legilimency, or a move of anger at knowing that Harry/James’ son already proves not to follow rules and to leave the dormitory when he feels like it. The difference in this scene… is that it’s McGonagall who makes the accusation. Harry does seem to feel guilty and ashamed. Later, when Snape accuses Harry of the same things, like going to Hogsmeade illegally in PoA, Harry won’t listen, won’t admit anything and will become angry against Snape. Let’s list what Harry has done wrong during all those years though, shall we? How he’s punished, by whom, what’s his reaction.)

· I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I’ve read all about them.

· It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets. (Funny image. However I suspect something else. Snape has seen Hermione outright standing up to answer to his question, and now he might believe that Hermione was so arrogant she felt like fighting the troll on her own. Will this explain their animosity, if there is a big one?)

Chp 11 – Hallowe’en

· They were standing with their backs to [the bluebell fire lamp], getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn’t be allowed. (Why? Also best way to attract attention.)

· Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape’s eye. He limped over. He hadn’t seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway. (The Trio looks guilty, so Snape comes to see what they surely did wrong. But just after the narrative says that Snape will be looking for “a” reason to tell them off “anyway” – in short, Snape is looking for an excuse to punish them. The switching between the Trio thinking they did wrong and Snape looking what they do, and Snape purposefully looking for a reason to punish them, is instantaneous and barely visible. What is the strongest idea you will retain however? “Looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.” You barely have Snape’s point of view, but mainly Harry’s opinion.)

· Library books are not to be taken outside the school, said Snape. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.

He’s just made that rule up, Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. Wonder what’s wrong with his leg? (1) Oh, are you really truthful Harry? Aren’t you the one inventing the fact Snape has invented a rule? After all, there ARE books in libraries that shouldn’t be taken outside on the grounds; there even are some which can’t be taken out of the library. Don’t you get a pass from the librarian when borrowing one? If you did, you should have shown it to Snape. 2) I think we touch something important. When I’ve been completing the excel sheet about Harry’s wrongdoings and the punishments he received, I have created a column named “Usual protocol”, which is based on either Hogwarts’ clearly stated rules or how professors would deal with such actions and punish similar offenses. I have found something obvious… but very important: we don’t know all of Hogwarts’ rules. Hogwarts is quite a unique school, we can’t always apply our own rules to it. Because Harry – and the reader – doesn’t know the rules, we cannot always know whether Harry has effectively broken a rule, how serious the wrongdoing was, what punishment should be associated with it. Meaning that we can only base our theories on the professors. And here comes the problem: the (un)fairness of a professor’s punishment cannot be appropriately judged based on their kindness or how much the narrator likes them. Which is precisely what the books seem to do. To know if what Snape has done is unfair, we constantly have to take distance from Harry’s many, many biased words and suggestions and lack of info and misdirection – like the “for no reason at all” concerning the penalty for the Puffs – to wonder if Snape’s punishment truly is wrong… and if Snape really just wanted to “find excuses”. The book is an example of how difficult and sometimes impossible it is: because sometimes we don’t know the rules of Hogwarts, and often we don’t know the punishments they deserve, we cannot truly know if, as Harry says, Snape just “made that rule up”, if he abuses the punishment… or if it is the complete opposite.)

· Dunno, but I hope it’s really hurting him, said Ron bitterly. (Harry seems to understand Snape badly; but it seems to apply the other way around as well: Snape might get a wrong idea of Harry and misunderstand/misinterpret him. Ron & Quirell relish in Snape’s pain of having his leg mangled.)

· He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? (Ah, indeed. Harry tries to get rational.)

· Rather you than me, they said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn’t refuse if there were other teachers listening. (So either teachers are close to Snape, or it’s just Harry’s imagination & lack of trust in adults expressing themselves. It can also be explained in how the Durlseys were never fair to Harry and how Hagrid dismissed Harry’s concerns about Snape.)

· He pushed the door ajar and peered inside – and a horrible scene met his eyes. (Horrible because of the mangled leg? Or horrible because of Snape and Filch? Why doesn’t Snape go to Pomfrey – does he have issues with her? How come the closest person the local Squib has is Snape?)

· Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. (Oh Ron, yes, it did hurt him)

· Blasted thing, Snape was saying. How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once? (First time Snape curses.)

· POTTER!

Snape’s face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped.

I just wondered if I could have my book back.

GET OUT! OUT! (Bad memories maybe? Notice how he’s very private. I don’t think what upset him was Harry seeing the wound, rather than his legs…)

· And I’d bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to create a diversion. (Well, as quick-witted you try to be Harry, you just lost that broomstick.)

· Hermione’s eyes were wide.

No – he wouldn’t, she said. I know he’s not very nice, but he wouldn’t try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe. (“I know he’s not very nice but he stays loyal to Dumbledore”. Also, what do you mean “not very nice”? Is it an euphemism, or is it true? Besides Harry’s first lesson, how is he “not very nice”?)

· Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something, said Ron. I’m with Harry. I wouldn’t put anything past Snape. But what’s he after? What’s that dog guarding? (Lol it reminds snaters when they scream murder “you try to paint Snape as a saint!” Anyway, trying to steal what’s down the trapdoor is a serious accusation because then Snape would be a Dark wizard working against Dumbledore. Ron who distrusts Snape, despising Hermione’s argument by saying “you think all teachers are saints” aka you’re too gullible. But it’s Ron who’s in the wrong. As for Hermione, it’s possible that after discovering the truth about Snape, she drew the conclusion that she was right, and that Snape being “not nice” has nothing to do with his true loyalties – maybe that’s too quick of a conclusion, because it makes her think he couldn’t be a Dark Wizard. She seems to stand by that idea though, because later, she insists that Snape killing Dumbledore doesn’t make him evil, somehow… but maybe I’m going too far. Why does Ron distrust Snape, him who was the first telling Harry not to care about Snape? Why does he start to hate Snape – because of the book? Or only because, as he says, he’s with Harry, and he came to believe what he says? Is it also because Ron, being bullied along with Harry by Draco, came to hate Slytherin even more, and thus hate their Head of House, who also happens to have once congratulated Draco? Ron puts Harry’s word over Hermione, which shows his loyalty but also how biased he is. What is that excuse Ron? Why wouldn’t you put anything past Snape now, when Snape hasn’t done anything except for the first class (which you dismissed) and the book? Their evidence is too little to make such accusations. He directly assumes Snape tries to steal the guarded thing, why? It’s here: Snape is not very nice, though we don’t get anything more than the first Potions lesson and the book incident, but Ron and Harry are quick to assume the worst of him. It’s blatantly unfair. And it turns out they were wrong all along.)

· He tried to empty his mind – he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours – but the expression on Snape’s face when Harry had seen his leg wasn’t easy to forget. (A furious expression? Why is it so unforgivable? Was it that distorted – and does it come from how Harry has seen Snape a little too much? Also, empty your mind… Occlumency.)

· I knew it, Hermione gasped. Snape – look. (Hermione changes her mind and tries to find a reason to call Snape the culprit.)

· He’s doing something – jinxing the broom, said Hermione. (Assuming. They’re quite implying Snape’s trying to kill a child. We went from doing something > jinxing pretty quick… Oh well. She didn’t know.)

· She didn’t even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand and whispered a few, well chosen words. (Why aren’t they warning a teacher??? Is Snape the only one protecting Harry?)

· It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realise that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket she scrambled back along the row – Snape would never know what had happened. (You better pray he doesn’t Legilimize you.)

· It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to chamber back to his broom. (Why did Quirell stop though, why didn’t he try to mutter another curse? Second, did Harry’s broom stop jerking from the moment Quirell was knocked out, or 30 seconds after Snape was put on fire? From the moment Snape realized he was on fire? Did he stop staring at Harry from the moment he realized he was on fire, or before? Was Snape still muttering when Quirell was knocked out? My theory is that Dark Magic seems to linger even though Quirell hadn’t had the eye contact anymore. The narrative forces to cast Snape as a potential villain… But it leaves so many questions unresolved. And I just had the image of Snape staring at Harry and muttering non-stop so hard he set himself on fire. Did Snape think it was his magic leaking? It’s a Snape going Eminem on Harry… Last thing: Snape seems to cast spells that are not just selected words but some kind of prayer. I think he’s the only one who does that. Snape mutters non-stop when he saves Harry from a Dark jinx, sings Draco’s wounds shut from his Dark spell, mutters under his breath when he locks Dumbledore’s Dark/Horcrux curse in his hand.

· It was Snape, Ron was explaining. Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. (When Snape searches a reason for Harry’s guilty looks and wonders if he’s been breaking the rules, it’s shown as unfair. When the Trio makes quick assumptions about Snape and search the reasons to cast him out, it’s somehow okay. Snape muttering was as suspicious as Harry looking guilty twice… The story might give clues as to why, but the narrative is quite unfair.)

· Rubbish, said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. Why would Snape do somethin’ like that? (A nice parallel to when he dismissed Harry’s concerns over why Snape seemed to hate him. By the time this happens, Harry doesn’t trust him enough anymore. If Hagrid was wrong in thinking Snape hating Harry was rubbish, then we can think that he’s wrong in thinking Snape innocent. The narrative outright gives a reason for Hagrid to be misled: he hasn’t heard a word of what happened next to him. But even if he had, would he think that Snape had cursed the broom? Is Hagrid calling rubbish what Hermione and Ron saw, or their interpretation of what they saw? Either way, Hagrid’s question doesn’t focus on that. It focuses on the reason Snape would curse the broom. But Harry already has one, one Hagrid dismissed earlier: Snape hates Harry. It is logical and fair to think that someone hating you wants you ill… But how the book persists and goes out of its way to cast Snape as the villain before leading us here is unnerving. They’re always expecting the worse out of Snape. Second, aren’t the kids more terrified than that to think Snape tried to kill Harry? Why isn’t any teacher leading an investigation? Even Hermione who loves teachers doesn’t think to ask help from Flitwick or Dumbledore or anything, when they speaking about their own teacher trying to kill their 11 yo friend.)

· I found out something about him, he told Hagrid. He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Hallowe’en. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding. (Harry uses a conclusion as his first explanation. He could have said “I’ve found him limping and his leg was mangled, torn off, and he mentioned the Cerberus while talking to Filch.” Instead he says directly “he’s been trying to get past the dog”. Maybe I’m digging too deep but… well, it makes me feel uneasy.)

· Hagrid dropped to teapot. How do you know about Fluffy? He said.

Fluffy?

Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the – (Did Quirell say he was Greek, or does he have a Greek accent/does he speak Greek? Hagrid doesn’t ever mention that Snape’s role is to protect whatever’s down there. It could have divided the readers with more interpretations if he had done: some would think that explains Snape’s presence near the dog and maybe they’re exaggerating, some would think that’s really dangerous to have a reason to approach Fluffy. Instead the book AGAIN tries to cast Snape as the villain. Hagrid would rather talk about Fluffy that explaining Snape’s role. Well, he’s right to be concerned… but he could have said the info later. Oh, and Hagrid, more than drinking “amber liquid” in front of Harry and the Dursleys, more than being called/suspected a drunkard by Draco, talks about he plays in pubs. Is this the fate that awaits those who are expelled from Hogwarts, along with Squibs?)

· Rubbish, said Hagrid again. Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort. (Weak excuse Hagrid… Quirell was a teacher as well. 3rd time you said Rubbish, and 3rd time’s the charm I guess.)

· So why did he just try and kill Harry? Cried Hermione. (Assumptions…)

· The afternoon’s events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape. (But she does say “I knew it” as though she was already suspecting him during Quidditch?)

· I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him! (Hermione… you’re wrong. Reading in books doesn’t make your assumptions right, it’s not enough. It’s so… arrogant on your part. You’re only a first year dammit. Haven’t you read about jinx counters???)

· I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong! Said Hagrid hotly. I don’t know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’t try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’t concern yeh. It’s dangerous. (Or yes it concerns them, at least the attempted murder. Why is Hagrid convinced Snape wouldn’t try to kill a student? Why does he seem upset when the Trio accuses Snape? Does it have to do with how he seems to know what happened to Snape, or is it because Dumbledore trusts Snape, or is Hagrid done with them? Also, Hagrid is the first Snover that defends Snape against Snaters. Isn’t that ironic.)

Chp 12 - Quidditch

· Worst of all were Professor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons. (1) cauldrons are dangerous for children, Potions shouldn’t be taught at all to them, damn Wizarding world, 2) it’s not logical. The dungeons are underground and thus isolated from the wind and the cold weather outside. They’ve got a lake near them to regulate the temperature through the stones, better than winds in the badly isolated towers. The dungeons, being isolated, should be cool and even a little warm. After hours of heating cauldrons with fire, the classroom should become hot enough for the day. But alright: Harry has Potions in the morning, as it takes place after breakfast for one or two hours before they can go see Hagrid on Fridays, and thus the classroom hasn’t been heated yet. But isn’t it such a good coincidence Snape’s class has another reason to be called the worst? Though why don’t wizards leave magical fires to warm up? Don’t they have a time-system that’d create a fire around 30 minutes before the first students come into the classrooms? Don’t they have instant warming charms? Why don’t they teach/spell them on students? Leaving a fire all night unsupervised in a Potions classroom seems dangerous enough, but they’ve got magic and spell! Why are the wizards so dumb and unpractical?!)

· Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

WEALSEY!

Ron let go the front of Malfoy’s robes.

He was provoked, Professor Snape, said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. Malfoy was insultin’ his family.

Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid, said Snape silkily. Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along, all of you. (EXACTLY. Also he calls him Hagrid J)

· I hate them both, said Harry. Malfoy and Snape. (BUT SNAPE WAS RIGHT THOUGH. The problem is that Snape hasn’t punished Malfoy. We all know though that’s not something he can do, strategically speaking (Draco being Lucius’ son).

· Because how else were they going to find out what Snape was going to steal? (They aren’t alerting the other teachers, oh my God… What do they think that can do against a gown-up Wizard who knows Dark Magic? Ron and Hermione shouldn’t have issues about trusting adults, but they still don’t ask the help of a Professor. I can’t believe it could just be because of Hagrid. They could know Hagrid was a bit gullible, but other teachers like McGonagall or Flitwick? If they don’t ask the other teachers – although previously Harry thought that Snape would be milder near other teachers and so those teachers could defend him – is it because they know they’re too close to Snape, meaning Snape has made friends with the other professors in the end? Also, Hermione, when you’re searching for a book, don’t you know Accio, don’t you have any reference to it? Can’t you use Accio Books of Nicholas Flamel, or ask Mrs Pince? Or are we admitting you don’t know things and thus can’t recognize Dark Magic from afar?

· [Harry and Ron] were plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn’t work. (Imagine if they want Malfoy expelled after his pathetic belittling, then there’s every right for Snape to want to expel the Marauders; except it wasn’t “fun”. Plus Malfoy too had tried to expel Harry with the fake duel, maybe with the bought broom, and maybe with the Remembrall taunt.)

· You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library – Restricted Section.

To his horror, it was Snape who replied.

The Restricted section? Well, they can’t be that far, we’ll catch them. (Hm… Interesting. Why is Filch precising this – is it because it’s a new precaution taken for Harry?

Chp 13 – The Mirror of Erised

· Snape’s refereeing this time, and he’ll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!

We’ve just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn’t got an excuse to pick on us. (Snape is described as unpleasant because he applies the rules strictly and punishes easily if they’re not respected; but here, it’s not a question of Snape punishing them without a valid reason – contrary to what’s going to be said later. It’s really “looking for excuses” to give penalties… but are they being fair though? They’ve got nothing to fear if they respect the rules.)

· Which was very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch.

· Harry told the other two about Snape’s sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee. (This is funny)

· The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? (Hypocrite. You dare say that after you got your broom, your bent rules, a biased commentator and a referee that was staring at Flint?)

· Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. (Ironic because it seems Snape’s following Harry to protect him in case Quirell tries to find Harry on his own.)

· Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. (How? And why only now?)

· Could Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. (Harry will have the same feeling at the beginning of CoS. Is Snape reading Harry’s mind? Is he becoming horrible because of stress, because of spy duty, because he sees that Harry starts to loathe him and judges him unfairly? Snape is horrible to Harry, but how? Is it Harry’s perception – standing in a room near the one you think tried to kill you, despising Slytherin, looking carefully for signs Snape is biased? There’s no example of what “horrible things” Snape is doing to Harry, how are we supposed to believe it hasn’t anything to do with Harry’s own, exaggerated and unfair bias? Those words, “turning into a sort of weekly torture”, are sandwiched between Harry unable to understand Snape’s actions, getting paranoiac and misinterpreting them, and a feeling that Snape can read minds – which is true, but remains a feeling mingled with paranoia and guilt. How to trust Harry’s point of view, especially when you read “Snape was so horrible to Harry”, which seems too weak to believe? There are constant attempts in the book to demonize Snape, from Harry or from the story aka bad luck, these words are strong, but too tricky/unable to be used because they’re plunged in a context of complete anti-Snape bias.)

· Finish the game before Snape can favour Hufflepuff too much. (Ah? So now it’s not just favouring Slytherin, it’s trying to favour Hufflepuff? As if making Gryffindor lose was more important than making Slytherin win – or is it because if Gryffindor loses against Hufflepuff and Slytherin wins against Puff then it’ll make up for losing against Gryff? Plus saying that when Snape doesn’t ever give any points to anybody? And can’t really punish children of DE without putting himself in risk? If you fear so much about referee bias, why don’t you hire a second referee?)

· Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched on to the pitch, something that Ron noticed, too. (Ah, Dumbledore in the stands – though why wasn’t he there last time when surely he suspected Quirell – you think Snape was angry about THAT)

· I’ve never seen Snape look so mean, he told Hermione. (It’s to ward off the Death Eaters)

· Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Wealsey had hit a Bludger at him. (Okay, so in real life, it’s red card and instant ejection from the game. Also I’ve read that if you were in a real competition, you’d get fined and suspended. If your move was intentional, you’d go to anger management training. Considering Snape’s also a teacher, if it was intentional, then you’d get counselling/a report. He only awarded a penalty. They’re lucky they don’t have any rules to eject a player for Quidditch. Though it means that players could threaten/beat the referee without much consequences than a penalty.)

· Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. (I doubt that, after what just happened.)

· Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd.

Come on, Harry! Hermione screamed, leaping on to her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches. (I remind you that Snape was an ass at Quidditch before.)

· As Gryffindors came spilling on to the pitch, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped. (Got a good scary moment I get it. Plus Gryff losing, and you being almost hit twice, while probably receiving boo’s… Yeah.)

· Snape spat bitterly on the ground. (Salty)

· He’d done it, he’d shown Snape…

· He recognized the figure’s prowling walk.

· Oh, I thought we’d keep this private, said Snape, his voice icy. Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s stone after all. (WAIT – does Snape think Harry knew about the Stone because of Quirell, that Quirell intended to have Harry search it??? It’s linked to the passage where Harry wonders if Snape could read minds and know that Harry knew about the Stone.)

· We’ll have another little chat soon, when you’ve had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie. (Theme of loyalty, ironic coming from a defected DE.)

· Quirell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell which Snape needs to break through – (so ironic)

· So you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirell stands up to Snape? Said Hermione in alarm.

Chp 14 – Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

· Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirell’s stutter. (I wish they’d done that for Snape. I need Snape-appreciating fic)

· You don’t understand, Professor, Harry Potter’s coming – he’s got a dragon!

What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on – I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy! (McGonagall trust Snape THAT much. Moody will also drag Draco to see Snape in GoF… after McGonagall’s told him about this.)

Chp 15 – The Forbidden Forest

· I think I’ve got a good idea of what’s been going on, said Professor McGonagall. It doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I’ve already caught him. I suppose you think it’s funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too? (Werewolf prank… Maybe McGonagall heard the full story from Snape… In any case, she herself says that feeding such story to make a student break curfew is a disgusting act that merits punishment. Though sending them into the Forest…)

· [McGonagall:] Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Potter. (Ahh… here we have evidence that students complaining about a teacher’s choice is forbidden.)

· Fifty? Harry gasped – they would lose the lead, the lead he’d won in the last Quidditch match. (So… Houses can win the House Cup… by winning points in Quidditch? Where a Seeker can win 150 points for catching a little ball? This points system is bullshit. It takes forever for students to win them by studying. Also, retrieving 50 points from 3 students equals to 150, which is a lot… but which is only what a Seeker wins. Oh, and apparently putting yourself in mortal danger from a troll is only 5 points worth, but being out at night is 50? I think it’s because the book assumes the reader makes the link that Hermione didn’t truly deserve punishment as she hadn’t done anything wrong… But not in McGonagall’s eyes, who believes her lie. It makes McGonagall incoherent and extremely unfair. The book’s story is very badly made. Ah but – no – not even that. McGonagall only retrieved 20 points from Malfoy + detention, so she’s taking 30 points more away from Harry and Hermione for feeding false info – from what she thinks, at least. But Neville? She thinks that Neville is quite innocent in this affair – but then she retrieves 50 points from HIM? McGonagall retrieves insane amounts of points.)

· Now get back to bed, all of you. I’ve never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students. (1) guilt-trip, 2) are you sure?)

· A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they’d ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the House Cup. Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. (Why do 150 points suffice to ruin all chances to win, when they’ve still got a match against Ravenclaw, and months before the end of term? Is Slytherin THAT MUCH in the lead? Or is it a plothole – a failure in Rowling’s attempt to make the punishment tragic, to dramatize it?)

· Harry didn’t sleep all night. He could hear Neville sobbing into his pillow for what seemed like hours. (OMG McGonagall made Neville cry, retrieved 50 points from him when he was partially innocent, but of course Snape is the worst, and Neville should only fear Bellatrix, and he made Hermione tear up… Just look at what happened when McGonagall intervened.)

· He knew Neville, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they’d done? (Points system is intrinsically based on common punishment. It uses pressure from the House itself to force the members to respect the rules – pressure that can result in ostracization, isolation, shaming, that puts students at risk of being bullied. In one book, Hermione started to quite harass Harry and Ron about that, and now it’s the whole House – worse, the whole school. The House which also consists in students the age of attending high school. Wonderful. Hogwarts is a shitty school.)

· And then the story spread (from Draco?): Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first-years.

Even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. (1) anti-Slytherin by 3 Houses, 2) even other Houses can blame/hate Harry. Hasn’t McGonagall figured what would happen if she punished them this hard?)

· Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and didn’t trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. (Consequences of points system.)

· Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they’ve been here, and people still like them.

They’ve never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they? Said Harry miserably.

Well – no, Ron admitted. (So either the twins were never caught, either their punishments were less severe. But then we remember that the person said to punish them the most for their shenanigans is Snape. Snape punished them, but they’re still liked by the school – maybe it’s another instance of “I hate Snape and he’s punished you so it must be unfair, I like you even if you break rules”. Snape punished them, but he never went to retrieve 150 points, or at least enough points to turn the Gryffindors against them. McGonagall’s punishment had far worse consequences.)

· He’d had it with sneaking around and spying.

· But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn’t speak to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him “the Seeker”.

· Hermione and Neville were suffering too. They didn’t have as bad a time as Harry, because they weren’t as well known, but nobody would speak to them either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence. (Hermione and Neville in one go! Also peculiar formulation. Hermione likes to “draw attention to herself”, or is it what people think she’s doing? Related to the know-it-all scene.)

· All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirell seemed to have given in at last. (Well, Harry, you lost your bet.)

· But we’ve got not proof! Said Harry. (Exactly)

· Who do you think they’ll believe, him or us? (The staff believes Snape, trusts him. He’s not out of bounds)

· It’s not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore’ll think we made it up to get him sacked. (Damn that tea’s hot)

· Filch wouldn’t help us if his life depended on it, he’s too friendly with Snape. (The ancient DE is the closest to Filch. We assume it’s because they’re both filthy greasy adults who love to punish students. We could also consider Filch is a bad example of a Squib to set in school as it trains students to hate and despise Squibs – we’ll see that in CoS from Ron and HBP from Harry – which increases discrimination, even in the Light Side. Snape befriending him is interesting…)

Chp 16 – Through the Trapdoor

· Snape made them all nervous, breathing own their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness Potion. (I sense some pretty wicked sense of humour. Snape breathes on their necks – probably to check their dangerous cauldrons/potions – which is the same thing we’re told about Madam Pince making Harry nervous near the Restricted Section. For all those who think Madam Pince is actually Madam Prince.)

· Anyway, we’ve never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he’s not going to try it again in a hurry. (Ah)

· It’s sort of secret, he said, but he wished at once he hadn’t because Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared. (I see Snape’s not the only one. He does the same thing in GoF, although it’s noted he seemed to try and sniff Harry out.)

· ‘It’s tonight,’ said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. ‘Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.’

‘But what can we –’ (Snape hears this, he might conclude Harry’s trying to break curfew again to go through the trapdoor. Yet in this case, Why didn’t Snape wait on the Third Floor corridor for Harry & Co?)

[…] Good afternoon, he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

· Hanging around like this, people will think you’re up to something. (People like you, Snape? Just like you did with the Quidditch book?)

· Be warned Potter – any more night-time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you. (Greeted him twice? Is it sarcasm/passive-aggressive? Is it just a threat as Snape should know from Dumbledore that Harry is better safe at Hogwarts? But indeed, Snape is not pleasant. Taunting on the Gryffindors’ points, threat of expulsion (although McGonagall threatened her students in her first class) – I think most of these are technically allowed but they put pressure on the student and justifies the need to consult the parents. Although, now that I think of it, if parents were complaining to Snape about what he just said, Snape could very well say “Your son has broken Hogwarts’ rules by wandering around at night and it does deserve expulsion from Hogwarts; I’m giving him a warning because he talked about going through a trapdoor at nighttime and he won’t just lose points for this next time”. He’s justified and in his right. BUT… he only addresses this to Harry, which is biased.)

· Snape came out and asked what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went out to get him, and I’ve only just got away. I don’t know where Snape went. (Good teacher behavior?)

· He pocketed it to use it on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. (Oh, give me some more singing Snape)

· Looks like a harp, said Ron. Snape must have left it there. (Snape the harp musician – his long fingers of a Potions Master playing on the strings…)

· It wasn’t ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards. (Beautiful. Associating purple and black with Snape by the way. I want fanart of Snape with purple or black fire. But I have a question. Why didn’t Quirell take the potion to go forward with him? He wouldn’t be able to go back through the black flames otherwise. Or did he just go through the flames unharmed? How did Dumbledore go through the black flames to save Harry – does this mean there are spells powerful enough to go past the potion riddle?)

· This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever. (Snape is the one who made a test that everyone from wizards to Muggles can solve. Snape is the one associated with Hermione. Did you know we can reverse-solve the riddle to find the 2-3 combinations which allow us to solve them with the riddle and Hermione’s clue?)

Chp 17 – The Man with Two Faces

· Severus? Quirell laughed and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirell? (Open evidence that you shouldn’t trust appearances… and to think Harry and Ron were showing support for Quirell, not an ounce for Snape later…)

· Another few seconds and I’d have got you off that broom. I’d have managed it before then if Snape hadn’t been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you. (If Snape hadn’t acted, Harry would have died at 11.)

· All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor winning, he did make himself unpopular… (Willing to make himself unpopular… Did they know what had truly happened later? Grosse ambiance Snape)

· Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off. (Did he suspect Quirell before or after Dumbledore told him to be wary of him?)

· And not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s lef off properly. (1) I want leg-missing veteran Snape. 2) Um, but there’s something weird. Did Quirell let the troll lose so the professors would try to find the troll and he’d be able to see what protected the Stone? But he didn’t need to, he could have spied the door while everyone was sleeping, or eating, or something. Did he let the troll loose as to beat Harry to death? But that assumes Harry would search for the troll, which he wouldn’t have done if Hermione hadn’t needed help. In this case, either Quirell/Voldy is an idiot, or they predicted Harrywould try to fight the troll, on the sole assumption Harry would emulate his father. OR they knew about Hermione crying in the bathroom, suspected Harry and Ron would try to save her, and made their move from then on. But there are more effective ways to kill Harry. You only need Harry being sent somewhere where he’d be alone with Quirell/Voldemort and be offered to be either part of the Dark Side or killed. 3) Did the dog mangle Snape’s leg during the troll event? But his limping gets mentioned only later, when Harry and Ron hang out with Hermione. Only in the films do we see Snape’s leg bitten near the troll. Plus if Snape had interrupted Quirell near the dog and he had been bitten, why wouldn’t Quirell use the opportunity to attack him, kill him or help the Cerberus kill Snape? Quirell would have had the perfect crime. The Cerberus could even have eaten Snape, and you’d have no way to tell Snape had been stunned or something, AND Fluffy would have to be executed, leaving the Stone defenseless for a time. Voldemort IS said to be merciless even to his followers. Maybe Quirell saw what happened to Snape’s leg after the troll incident? That seems the most plausible… Also a real school would have closed if a troll had been threatening students like that, if Harry’s broom was attacked with Dark Magic, nearly killing him, and if there was a dog able to bit off a teacher’s leg accessible through the use of Alohomora.)

· He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me… decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me… (What to think, then, when in HBP Snape, after Lucius’ punishment in having his son put in almost-certain death’s way, says that Voldemort “wasn’t pleased”…)

· What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone before Quirell does. (And here we have a MOST interesting passage. The object supposed to show you the deepest, most desperate desire in the world can show a desire that appears AT THE MOMENT. In a world that allows that for the deepest desire, then it should allow that for the deepest fear… particularly Neville’s Boggart after having poor interactions with Snape twice just before. I think it reinforced the theory.)

· But your mother needn’t have died… she was trying to protect you… (Lily tried to protect Harry. Snape tried to save him. And in the end, they both did. Do we have to wonder why Snape has the Patronus of Harry’s mother?)

· Professor Snape, Harry.

Yes, him – Quirell said he hates me because he hated by father. Is that true?

Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.

What?

He saved his life. (………)

What?

Yes… said Dumbledore dreamily. Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace��

….

This is the most disgusting thing I have read lately.

You said you didn’t want to lie, Dumbledore?

You just did. Horribly. And you know it. Just as you know the truth.

You know, before, Harry could have sought Snape to talk with him and maybe, maybe, asked for forgiveness to have wrongfully accused him.

It is Dumbledore who sets Harry and Snape definitely apart.

He could have told him that Harry’s father had tormented Snape so horribly he couldn’t ever forgive him.

Snape’s hatred, Hagrid’s hesitancy, Quirell’s admission that Snape and James hated each other – all of these are buckled up with the message that he was unfairly ungrateful to James, and a mean pathetic villain in the end.

The book ends with the idea that Snape saved Harry not because he cared about his life, but because he had a debt against a man that’s been presented as good until now. Meaning Snape could still turn against Harry later.

The problem is that Snape isn’t saving Harry to pay a debt to James. He’s saving him as he wishes to extend Lily’s will and make her death not in vain. We could go further and say that he wanted to truly change and repent.

Dumbledore makes Harry think that Snape was kind of “forced” to pay back his debt for James’ supposedly honourable action, and that he hated Harry because he hated his father, as well as because he was unwilling to save Harry.

In DH, we see clearly that Snape is horrified with the idea of sending Harry to his death “like a pig to slaughter”; in fact in CoS, Snape gets worried when he hears that a student has been captured by the monster.

However, these things are never openly acknowledged. Dumbledore is willing to present James as a hero, while you have to dig through a lot to realize Snape became one as well.

He never said that he might not only hate James for being the one who saved him, but also because, as Snape was forced to keep the truth of what happened to himself, James was presented as a pure hero at heart and this info was used against Snape by Lily who obviously started to defend the Marauders and mistrust their victim. The only time the situation is explained is only in a book where Harry fully antagonizes Snape: that James had no choice but to save Snape if he wanted to save his friends and himself, and that it hadn’t been a selfless act (at least not entirely). But since Snape is meant to be hated, it’s easy to cast him in the wrong. Never is it said that if James hadn’t saved Snape, Sirius would have turned a murderer, Remus a victim of his own best friend’s plans, and James an accomplice of the murder, at least at fault for failure in duty to rescue.

Do you have a debt for someone whose friend put you in the very mortal situation forcing them save you?

Dumbledore compared the Marauders’ bullying against Snape to Harry and Malfoy when Malfoy hasn’t done a quarter of what James did to Snape, and when that’s something that borders between rivalry and unsuccessful harassment rather than heavy abuse.

And we have to keep in mind that the one who was the reason the info about why James had to save Snape spread, the one who silenced Snape and forced the misunderstood event, the one who participated in hurting him and having him bullied relentlessly, the one who canonically gaslighted Snape, was Dumbledore himself.

Before, it was a combination of mistrust, lack of information and misinterpretation, as well as anti-Slytherin bias and fear for his life, that had kept Harry away from Snape. Now, Dumbledore, by his lie of omission and obviously distorted interpretation of Snape’s motives, has effectively cut Harry’s trust for the professor who just spent the last year saving and protecting him. Snape’s credit of his salvaging actions is robbed from him.

I don’t even understand Dumbledore’s logic behind, other than trying to glorify James and flatter Harry. The only thing he promised not to say was about Snape’s allegiance to Lily. In its stead, Dumbledore spoke about a sort of allegiance to James. Worse, instead of trying to mitigate Harry and Snape’s connections, he impends it.

On one hand, as we know from the Prince’s Tale, he tells Snape that he’s mistaken about James’ son, that he only sees what he wants to see. Obviously he doesn’t want him to hate Harry or to mistake him so much. On the other hand he tells that same boy something that’s so… I’m sure there’s a proper name to it – so biased and so open to wrong interpretations, so stamped with the purpose of glorifying Harry’s father on the expanse of Harry’s personal protector, that he won’t see any reason to make an effort to be less mutinous against his teacher.

And yet, after this entire book, the only confirmed thing that Snape has objectively done wrong, was nagging and ridiculing Harry in his first class. To put some context, McGonagall’s punishment had 2 times worse consequences against Harry than what Snape ever did, and she put him in danger with someone she had acknowledged irresponsible, unable to protect someone well – but she doesn’t get any more hate from Harry because he feels like he deserved the punishment and is genuinely hurt. Other than that, Snape’s actions were mostly justified or in the norms – but instead of having Harry wonder how far he went to antagonize Snape this last year and how wrong he was in doing so, he’s given another reason not to do that: Snape hates him unfairly so there’s no need to think things through, no need to make peace.

Dumbledore is a catalyst, an actor, maybe THE reason, that Harry and Snape will keep hating each other along the next books.

And you know what? This plan backfires gruesomely when Albus has no choice but to make him teach Harry Occlumency.

Dumbledore broke Harry’s trust with his professor when it had a chance to spring, and then, after Sirius’ death, he’ll again somehow make it Snape’s fault talking about “some wounds run too deep”.

I get that it is meant to make the author doubt about Snape’s true allegiances for the future… But I think that even if Dumbledore had told Harry the true reason Snape hated James and couldn’t seem to let go of the past, it would still have allowed Snape to make Voldemort believe Dumbledore fell for his “lying”, and accentuated hate against Snape when he’d kill Dumbledore, as it would have given further clues to the reader to think that maybe James’ treatment of Snape, being unforgivable, is a solid reason to think Snape doesn’t ever want to work for the Light. It would have acted like a Snape’s Worst Memory, except sooner.

Instead he said “Snape couldn’t ever forgive James for having saved his life, he couldn’t bear knowing that he had a debt to him”… and only that.

This is Dumbledore in one of his cruelest, most manipulative and repulsive choices. I

I think I’ll hate this passage from now on.

· Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped. (See what I mean? Harry won’t try to think things through. Well, after what Dumbledore said, you don’t even have to bother really.)

· Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall’s hand, with a horrible forced smile. (Yeah… yeah, I would have used something akin to Occlumency if I were at your place, to hold up the humiliating “downfall” of my own House glorified by the rest of the school. Also notice how Harry reserved the “Professor” title for McGonagall only. All ties are cut.)

· He caught Harry’s eye and Harry knew at once that Snape’s feelings towards him hadn’t changed one jot. This didn’t worry Harry. (Why should he, huh? In the midst of this horrible anti-Slytherin/pro-Gryffindor show no less?)

· (They all got good marks.) Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. (We didn’t have a single instance where Snape bullies Neville here. Only Harry… in the beginning of the year. Not any other instance after. Weak bully in HP1. Let’s see if it changes in HP2, in HP4, or if one of the worst instances start in HP3, and we know why he would. Let’s confirm a hypothesis. The hypothesis that Snape became really bullying mostly because of the circumstances, such as his bullies returning at Hogwarts, or Voldemort coming back.)

Conclusion

I don’t have any. I’m tired. I’ll make the posts with themes based on this alright? I hoped this proved insightful.

#severus snape #snape #pro snape #snapedom #snape love #HP1 #essay #commentary #HP PS #masterpost #masterlist #full commentary

55 notes · View notes

mitchmarnier · 5 years ago

Text

masterlist [updated 07/10/19]

▸ archive of our own | my ko-fi ◂

semi charmed life universe

ask me to stay ☾ 7 chapters. complete. 33k.（the year is 1994, and Eddie Kaspbrak is in love）

multi chaptered fics

say it right ☾ 7 chapters. complete. 14k.（Eddie and Richie work together in book cafe, and Richie is determined to turn Eddie into a coffee drinker by making him the perfect drink. And if Eddie happens to fall in love with him in the process, well then that’s just an added bonus）

in just four minutes ☾ 4/8 chapters. in progress, on hiatus. 8k.（Eddie Kaspbrak hadn’t planned on being an absolute cliche the fell in love with his college dorm mate, but ain’t that just the way. To add insult to injury, said room mate has a girlfriend … doesn’t he?）

l.a devotee ☾ 6/10 chapters. in progress, on hiatus. 16k.（child actor Richie Tozier was raised in The Industry, he knows how to play the game. He knows exactly how to keep his head down, and make his way through the famous life without attracting any extra drama. Until his management branch takes an up incoming band under their wing, and enlist Richie to publicly date the lead singer, and that all falls to shit）✕notsfw ✕

hitched ☾ 2/4 chapters. in progress, on hiatus. 6k.（Richie has been going through a really rough time since his long time girlfriend had walked out on him, and Stanley’s bachelor party was the perfect excuse for a pick me up. A Losers trip to Vegas! It’s a perfect idea, until a little too much alcohol gets involved）

i took too many hits off this memory ☾ 2/? chapters. in progress. 10k（Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t remember much from his childhood. He doesn’t really know he doesn’t remember. He also doesn’t know why he’s so drawn this terrible comedian on tv, but when Eddie runs into him in a bar, and they spend the night together, Eddie’s life is changed forever. It’s finally back on track- and he doesn’t know anything about it）✕notsfw ✕

the real world ☾ 3/18 chapters. in progress. 9k（after a sudden and unexplained disappearance, richie tozier returns to derry with a secret that no one person could ever hope to hold onto）

collab fics

burn, crash, romance with @thundercatseddie ☾ 1/8 chapters. in progress. 9k（the Fratboy!Eddie fic birthed over Discord that simply had to be brought to life）✕notsfw ✕

one shots

did i say that out loud? ☾ 12k（my piece written for the IT Big Bang 2019, paired with disneyfan567 on tumblr!）

richie tozier’s all dead rock show ☾ 13k（after a near-death experience, Richie Tozier suddenly finds himself with a sparkling, unaffected memory of Derry, the things that happened there and people he once loved）✕notsfw ✕

no you can't fence time and you can't stop love. ☾ 3k（how can eighteen years just up and walk away?）

baby, we can make it if we're heart to heart ☾ 2k（the first time eddie kaspbrak and richie tozier ever talked about running away together, they were six years old and it hadn’t seemed serious.）

IT fandom week 2019

reddie soulmate au

stanpat college au

stozier summer romance au ✕notsfw ✕

i can be your hero ☾ 2k（day seven: accidental confession）

song prompts

reddie ✿ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,

stanpat ✿ 1, 2, 3,

hanzier ✿ 1, 2,

stozier ✿ 1, 2, 3,

stanlon ✿ 1,

bichie ✿ 1, 2,

streddie ✿ 1, 2,

mcmarsh ✿ 1,

benverly ✿ 1,

prompts

bichie + 1 ☾ i pushed you up against the wall and i can’t stop staring at your lips from stnbroughs

reddie + 45 & 46 ☾ do you trust me? & can i kiss you right now? from anon

reddie + 38 ☾ isn’t this amazing from anon

reddie + 52 & 39 ☾ first one to make a noise loses from anon

reddie + 179 ☾ first one to make a noise loses from anon ✕notsfw ✕

reddie + 16 ☾ cry me a river from anon

reddie + 37 ☾ i had a dream about you

stanlon & reddie + 122 ☾ why do they behave for you from anon

reddie + 100 ☾ i’m sorry but that was adorable from anon

reddie ☾ its okay to cry from anon

reddie + 81 ☾ please don’t hurt me from jwilliambyers

reddie + 10 ☾ high school popular kid and nerd au from ameliadams

reddie + 27 ☾ meeting at a support group from anon

reddie + 22 ☾ two miserable people Meeting at a wedding AU from anon

stozier ☾ exes meeting again after not speaking for years au from tinyarmedtrex

reddie + 48 ☾ meeting again at a high school reunion au from cariebishop

reddie + 48 ☾ I called you at 2am because I need you from richiardtozier

reddie + 9 & 30 ☾ Secret Relationship & Suddenly Getting Flustered Because of a Particular Outfit from clockworkbisexual

reddie + 27 ☾ Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second from appojoos

reddie + 69 ☾ We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” + kiss at a party from jwilliambyers

reddie ☾ “You make me happy” + “I love you” from anon

reddie + 17 ☾ I would do anything for you. anything from thundercatseddie

reddie + 9 ☾ There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling from thundercatseddie

#reddie #reddie fic #it fanfiction #my writing #masterlist #can i get a reblog pls #this took like.... an hour and a half

272 notes · View notes

jeanjauthor · 5 years ago

Link

This is a sad thing. We all know that lIfe happens. Situations and people and feelings all change. For me personally...I was there before Crossed Genres started.

Since this is somewhat personal, I’ll put the rest behind a cut:

The editors of CG are my friends. We were friends coming out of Harry Potter fanfic fandom. I first met them on the old RestrictedSection.org website forum boards, a Harry Potter Fanfic Archive that had very high standards for submission, and where my first (and both literally & figuratively biggest) fanfic was posted online.

We encouraged each other, we suggested ideas and edits, and I admired them for their sheer skill, both of them, as well as their creativity. While we didn’t live together (Seattle area versus Boston area, over 3,000 miles apart) I considered them my friends, andeven went to visit with them for a week in 2007.

That in itself is a story.

It started with Bart having a three day period where his spouse Kay and their son were going to be out of state visiting relatives. That meant he would have three days of uninterrupted time, which he wanted to fill with writing to keep himself busy. He wanted to push himself, so that meant he wanted to have a word war with someone.

(For those who don’t know, a word war is like NaNoWriMo, except you’re “competing” in a friendly way with someone to see how much you can get written in a specific block of time. Entrants in a word war may tease each other about word count totals, but it’s also done in a very supportive & encourating way. In a way, we want to lose to the other person, even as we want ourselves to win. Best. Kind of War. Ever.)

Anyway, I was at a point in my writing where I was stuck. I needed something to push me through my writer’s block, so I accepted his suggestion of a 3 day word war...and to make ourselves even more motivated, we settled on a bet. If he won, I’d give him an ARC of The Master (Sons of Destiny book 3--at the time of the word war, I was working on books 5 & 6). And if I won, he’d give me a basket of chocolates...

...Except Bart changed the rules, and insisted (with Kay’s encouragement) that if I won, they’d instead buy me a plane ticket across country to Boston to come stay with them for a week. I tried to talk him out of it ($300 plane ticket vs $50 fancy basket of chocolate?? C’mon, here!!), but he was stubborn. So was I.

Either way, the weekend in specific came, and we went to work. By the end of Friday, I beat him by roughly a thousand words, writing around 7k in a single day, with him close on my tail at 6k. Saturday, I beat him by roughly a thousand words, this time putting out about 8k to his 7k. Sunday...I hauled arse and wrote over 10,000 words...and he beat me by over 12,000 words.

The most I have ever written in a single day’s session (that I kept track of) was just over 15,000 words. 6,000 words is in and of itself a huge output for a day’s writing (anything over 1,000 is pretty damn good, imho), so we were both awesome that weekend.

Anyway...we tallied up all our words for all three days on Monday, exchanged numbers, and...I beat him. I beat him by I think 253 words total? I was honestly surprised that after his 12k+ literary ass-hauling that I’d managed to beat him, but there it was. Bart was very disappointed not to win the Advance Review Copy (I was disappointed, too, but I Had A Plan), so he tried to tell me we’d tied.

I shot back “If it was within 100 words, the size of a 100-word-drabble, I’d count that as a tie! You owe me some chocolate, Mister!”

Except he out-stubborned me.

He insisted I come out to Boston to hang with him and his spouse and their kid and their cats...and...well...I finally caved (tbh it didn’t take too long). I bought my own ticket (it ended up just being easier that way, as the airlines were being putzes about having to use passengers’ first names and he didn’t know mine), but they handed me some cash when I got there...and I handed over the ARC of The Master.

Why? Well, it was only 253 or so words of difference...and because the two of them had supported me from well before my editor at Berkley offered me that first invitation to submit, let alone a four book contract after reading The Sword (book 1).

They had supported me back when I was still writing & posting chapters to my first HP fanfic, the same fanfic a certain editor at Berkley (part of The Berkley Group, part of what is now Penguin Random House) found and read and loved, which led her to following my fanfic writing in that ‘ship and, a few years later, offering me a chance to submit an original manuscript to her while I was still in the middle of writing my second-biggest HP fanfic (a reaction to HP book 6).

So I went to Boston. And I I had a wonderful time. I even did a day-trip train ride down to NYC to visit with my editor in person (she’s a wonderful woman). I don’t think I got any chocolate...but I did get even better memories. Sweet memories that are now a little bittersweet, because the two of them were so loving back then...

But times change, people change, circumstances change...and change is not always a wrong thing, even if it might be a sad thing.

Bart and Kay are both my friends, and I will remain friends with each of them even after their separation. They are truly good people, and are being careful not to demand anyone pick sides, and have their son’s best interests at heart. I don’t know what each of them is going to do, post CG, but I wish them the best of luck with great opportunities & lots of inspiration.

Since they are mature and professional, even if undergoing a stressful change in their relationship to each other, they might someday reach a point where, post-separation, they can work with each other again without too much stress and strain. That might mean CG could revive. Or they may agree to let one or the other carry on once that person is in a stable situation, and may take on other co-editors.

Or Crossed Genres may stay retired for good. I’d advise not holding our breaths, but instead breathe calmly and keep on reading, keep on writing, keep on drawing and creating and trying our best to make our world a little bit better.

CG has been an outstanding concept during its eleven-year run. An online magazine, a series of anthologies...and some of the toughest editing standards I’ve ever faced. I’ve had stories that got rejected, and one story that was accepted. (”The Hero Industry” in Subversion: Science Fiction & Fantasy Tales of Challengint The Norm, 2011.) Neither Bart nor Kay cut me any slack simply because we were long-term friends. They didn’t slip me into their anthologies because of that friendship, and I appreciated that.

They wanted me to produce the best I could (competing against other submissions)...and when I did with that one story, they let me know it.

But for now...life happens, and things change. Here’s hoping things change for the better for each of them, even if it’s no longer something that will happen for both of them as a couple.

And while you won’t be able to get more of CG’s anthologies from this point forward, either backlist or future productions...I encourage everyone to look up the authors who did get published. You’ll find some of the best & most creative writers that way, all thanks to Crossed Genres.

1 note · View note

angryschnauzer · 6 years ago

Note

Hello. So I want to try my hand at writing fics but I’m not sure that they will be any good. I was wondering if you had any advice for me to get started. Any rules of thumb that are important to remember or suggestions. I’m really scared I’m gonna mess this up! Thanks!

Hi!

My advice is to just do it! Give it a go! I’ve been writing fanfic for almost 5 years now, and i can still remember the day i wrote my very first story; i had wanted to read a story i’d had in my mind but no-one was taking requests. So i sat down, opened MS Word and just typed. I let my fingers just flow to get words down onto paper, and 3000 words in we had a powercut and i lost the majority of what i’d written! Anyway thankfully most of it was recoverable but i learnt in that very first instance that the most important part of writing is to SAVE YOUR WORK REGULARLY!

So, actual useful advice? There are no rules of thumb. You can write whatever and however you like. However my personal advice is as follows;

1. Use a writing software such as MS Word or Google Docs, the latter much better if you use multiple devices to write on. It also makes it easier if you want someone to pre-read (beta) it, as you can just send a link to them.

2. You can decide if you want to write in chapters, or just have one long story, but i do find that if you start to head into 3000+ words its easier for the reader if you split it down into chapters/parts. Sometime people will look at a wordcount and see 10k words and go “eeep i don’t have time to read that right now without losing my place” but will happily start reading a story that is 12k words if its split into 4 chapters.

3. Have some idea of what you want your story to have as a plot. Notebooks are your friend, and you will soon start to see inspiration everywhere and its so annoying if you think of something awesome only to not make a note of it and know that when you get home/time to write, you know you *had* an idea, but can’t for the life of you remember what it was.

4. Don’t be afraid to let ideas grow once they are down on paper. Like i mentioned at the start, my first fanfic was one i’d wanted to read, however in my mind it was a Pirate Alternate Universe, but what it turned into was a Cops/Thief love triangle.

5. Write whatever genre you like! Smut, Angst, Fluff, Drama, Romance; there is an audience for it all. Sometimes smut stories will get hundreds of notes/views and it can be disheartening if you don’t feel comfortable writing sexual scenarios, only to feel your fic languishes behind. What you need to remember is you have to write for YOU. Unless you take requests, write what you want to read.

6. Tagging. This is the important one. I don’t mean tagging other blogs to read your work, no, what i mean is put brief details at the start of the story. ie: pairing (character x character, character x reader, or character x original character etc), genre: smut/angst/fluff, fandom: Marvel, DC, SPN etc, and then if you have any particular warnings in the story content such as; death, sexual acts, abuse, non consensual. It is far better to mention these warnings at the start of your story then its the readers responsibility as to whether or not they choose to read it, rather than leaving it in your hands hoping people won’t be offended. For example a huge trigger for me is Miscarriage/Loss of a Child. I’ve been reading fantastic stories in the past, some by good friends who even asked me to beta their work, only to be blindsided without warning a traumatic life experience on paper.

7. For the LOVE OF GOD use paragraphs, comma’s, and when you have speech, use “quotation marks”. It can be so jarring on the eyes if people don’t follow those three simple steps. I’ve given up on reading very promising stories in the past that used to put dialogue -like this- and it just didn’t read right. Also SPELLCHECK.

8. Once you’ve written something and posted it (where-ever you chose to post it; Tumblr, AO3, Wattpad), or even before its published, you can always ask a friend or a blog you admire if they would like to read it and give constructive criticism. But also bear in mind that if its someone you don’t know, and its a long story, they may decline as we all have busy lives.

9. Finally i find that if you are posting on Tumblr (or even a link to AO3), a moodboard header image really helps draw the eye and can give the reader a great mental image of what your story’s world looks like. Think of it as a cover of a book or DVD cover. Tumblr has obviously cracked down now on anything vaguely sexual in images (OH GOD DON’T INCLUDE NIPPLES THEY ARE THE DEVILS TEATS) but putting together a multi shot image in much simpler than you’d think. I use my smartphone and 2 apps; Instagram Layout (you don’t have to have IG to use it); i download photos from google images and pop them in where i want them in the layout, then i use an app called Phonto to add in words/text for the title. Sometimes you will need to shrink the image size once its completed as it does make the images fairly large in MB size, but apart from that i find it really helps to draw the readers eye to a story.

Anyway, that’s all! Have fun writing and i hope 2019 brings you a fantastically creative year!

Love

Schnauz

8 notes · View notes

oddcoupler222 · 7 years ago

Note

Hi can you recommend some of your favorite fanfics

Since you didn’t specify which fandom you want my favorite fics from, I’mgoing to give you ALL OF THEM

Sanvers: (Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer - Supergirl)

by InspectorBoxer -

The Lighthouse Technique - Kara grinned. “I already have a plan. A foolproof technique, in fact, to get Maggie Sawyer’s full attention.” pre 2x08/Sanvers getting together (complete - 4 chapters, 5k words)

also she has tons of short and sweet oneshots and all of them are entertaining and worth reading. And she co-writes:

I Can’t Believe We’re Here - “I don’t know how to tell you this, Detective, but I’d like to introduce you to Jamie. Your daughter.” A post 3x05 fix-it fic, in which Maggie has a surprise daughter and the characters and plot are all A+ (currently incomplete but READ IT ANYWAY. 12 chapters, 71k words)

The above fic is part of the you and i collide series, all comprised of very well-written and in character reunion fics, written by zennie.

More by Zennie -

Worth the Fight - After the kiss, Alex and Maggie struggle to get back to friendship and maybe more. Also, Maggie is targeted by assassins and Alex is protective (complete - 7 chapters, 28k words)

Headstrong - Maggie challenges Alex to a race. It doesn’t end like either of them planned. (incomplete technically, but leaves off in a good place. 6/7 chapters, 11k words)

Also has a ton of one shots/shorter stuff worth reading

by performativezippers -

Spin Doctor (Grown Ass Woman) - Maggie doesn’t really talk to other people while she’s at the spin studio – she’s not, as they say, there to make friends – but everyone tends to do friendly nods and say hi, especially in the locker room, and she does the same. So she’s gotten know most of the teachers and many of the other morning clients by sight. So she’s sure this is the first time she’s seen this new woman. She’d definitely have remembered someone like that. (complete, 9 chapters, 37k words)

Lexie (Five-Inch Heels) - “I’m Lexie,” she says, and it’s clearly a fake name but that doesn’t bother Maggie. She’ll only need to know a legal name if this girl ever gets booked and Maggie has to intervene. She hopes it never comes up.

“Nice to meet you, Lexie.”

Lexie just stares at her, and Maggie can’t tell if she’s smirking of if it’s a trick of the light.

“Sure it is,” she finally says, and oh, yes, she was smirking.

Maggie decides to forgo delicate, and asks her next question bluntly, her hands back in her pockets. “What brings you out tonight?”

“Astronomy.” Lexie deadpans. “Been a while since I’ve last stargazed; thought I’d commune with nature and all that shit.” (complete, 4 chapters, 10k words)

by ReaderExtraordinaire -

Science Fairs and Spring Breaks -

What if Alex and Maggie had a chance meeting at a high school science fair? How much of an impact can one long distance friendship really have? After all, who meets their soulmate at 17? (complete - 18 chapters, 90k words)

by cairophoenix -

Track Changes - Alex is an editor at a New York publishing house, and that means her life is going right. She has her apartment, and the gym, and Kara a subway stop away. So if her apartment’s always empty at the end of the day, that’s just how things are. She spends a lot of time at the office, anyway. She’s making it, and that’s something she can be satisfied with. And then a mysterious book arrives. (Complete - 1 chapter, 44k words)

by colourmeblue -

there’s a piece of me that i’ve been seaching for - The first time she sees Maggie Sawyer, she’s not that impressed. A fake relationship AU (complete - 4 chapters, 30k words)

every inch of me there is to trace - Maggie contemplates Chinese food, beer and Netflix as her evening plan. The proximity to her previous life requires a distraction that only alcohol can achieve. Her mind does flash to Alex, though. What she’s doing tonight. How easy it would be to just call her. Or even see her, if she still lives at the same apartment. However, she’s immediately turned away from that idea at the thought of someone else answering the phone or the door. (incomplete, recently updated. 4/10 chapters, 13k words)

by bltbackwards -

Red Fish Blue Fish - Alex Danvers is the head marine biologist and veterinarian at the National City Aquarium, where Maggie Sawyer is the new night guard. One chance encounter leads to two, which leads to meetings not at all by chance. OR The one where Gertrude is a dolphin, Maggie’s got a prosthetic leg, Alex is a brilliant nerd that keeps food in her lab coat, Kara is the literal ray of sunshine everyone adores, and Lena is a genius who loves marine animals. (complete - 10 chapters, 35k words)

by Roadie -

Ashes and Embers - Fairytale AU. Wherein Alex is sort-of-but-not-really-Cinderella, Maggie is sort-of-but-not-really-also-Cinderella-crossed-with-a-fairy-godmother, James Olsen is the nobility we all know him to be, and Gertrude is a horse sidekick. (complete - 5 chapters, 12k words)

by alittlelesspain -

no hiding place - So far in the past week, Maggie has been kidnapped, stunned, shot at, and now she has gone and put a considerable amount of professional and personal trust in the woman who had been doing the kidnapping, stunning, and shooting. She should be terrified. Instead, Maggie feels the most alive that she’s felt in years.

Or, the one where Alex is supposedly a criminal, Supergirl is supposedly dead, Lex Luthor is actually President, and Detective Maggie Sawyer has to deal with it all. A canon-divergent Sanvers AU. Slowburn. (complete - 13 chapters, 150k words)

by Lurkz -

I Just Want To Change My Future - Maggie was just hoping to finally have a stable enough job that allowed her to continue helping aliens and maybe finally meet someone who would decide she was worth sticking with. She wasn’t really expecting her new job to involve suspicious acting scientists that happened to be related to her new boss’s girlfriend.

All Alex wanted to do was work in her lab, finish this pseudo-undercover duty at L-Corp, destroy Cadmus, and find her father. She didn’t have time for nosy ex-detective security chiefs. (incomplete/still being updated. 16/? chapters, 77k words)

by thrace -

but the fruit is sweet - Sometimes doing the right thing sucks // Or, Maggie can’t figure out why Supergirl is suddenly giving her the cold shoulder. Post 2x06. (complete - 1 chapter, 15k words)

by seaunicorn -

Cursed - Alex’s sixth year at Hogwarts is thrown for a loop when her father Jeremiah is killed that summer. It seems the only thing that makes her feel normal anymore is her newfound friendship with longtime quidditch rival (and Hufflepuff’s new team captain) Maggie Sawyer (complete, 1 chapter, 26k words)

To Build A Home - Maggie’s apartment is on fire, so she shows up on Alex’s doorstep… and Alex could never say no to Maggie. (complete - 3 chapters, 15k words)

(and a handful of other good little oneshots)

by izzie456 -

pizza and pajamas - Alex’s finger froze in place and her eyes widened as, under “Special Delivery Instructions,” she read:“send your cutest delivery girl, please ;)”A beat of silence. Then:“Oh. My. God.”“Alex, please don’t–”“What the hell, Kara?”

An AU where Kara tries to get Alex to start dating again with an unusual plan, and Maggie is a pizza delivery girl (complete - 4 chapters, 35k words)

by adieu_sweetamaryllis -

communion - Four years — she’d made it four years without having Maggie Sawyer in a single class of hers despite them both going to the same school. If she hadn’t seen her once or twice across campus she would’ve thought the girl never actually ended up attending National City University, despite both of them getting acceptance letters a few weeks before — well, before everything went up in flames. (incomplete - 18/21 chapters, 126k words)

by DisplacedWarrior -

I would move mountains to make you smile - Alex was just looking for a way to handle her giant crush without talking about it, she had no idea creating an anonymous Instagram account for her cheesy sapphic poetry would cause this much of a stir. It has half the school starry-eyed but what about the one girl it was intended for? (complete 1 chapter, 10k words)

by swanmills -

let me be your goodnight - alex meets an annoying new agent in the batch of this year’s trainees. alternate meeting au (complete, 1 chapter, 4k words)

handfuls of other short/sweet oneshots by this author

and because I’m a masochist who is branching out into being a sadist, I’m going to recommend a very much incomplete story that I doubt will ever be finished but I reread it often and bemoan that it’s incomplete because it was SO GOOD and I want to drag everyone else down memory lane with me

wildfire - Alex has seen beautiful women before, her sister is one of them, but not one has ever taken her breath away so quickly it felt like she was being knocked over. Maybe it was simply the shock of seeing another person here when the school had seemed so desolate. Or maybe, maybe, it was because that was the most beautiful woman that Alex has ever seen.or the one where alex teaches chemistry, maggie teaches history, and they teach each other a little something about falling in love (so incomplete. 3/? chapters, 25k words)

by lordvoldyfarts, who also has several shorter oneshots that I adore

moving on!

General Danvers: (Alex Danvers/Astra In-Ze - Supergirl)

Sword of Damocles - Canon divergent from 1x13: When Hank shows up on the rooftop to stop Astra from activating Myriad, Astra manages to outmaneuver him, taking Alex hostage as a means of escape. Now, Alex finds herself a prisoner at the hostile Fort Rozz base, but as time goes by, she and Astra begin to form an unexpected bond, challenging each of their beliefs, and loyalties.(complete - 27 chapters, 134k words)

Occupational Hazard - A comedy of errors in which Astra seriously misinterprets things. Seriously. Misinterprets. Things. This is a Human AU, so she doesn’t even have the excuse of being an alien to justify her Serious Misinterpretation of Things. She’s just that socially awkward of an Environmental Sciences professor who is head over heels for the obliviously charming-as-all-hell medical school dropout Alex Danvers.Basically, everyone is confused, smut runs rampant, as do silly tropes, stupidly oblivious mutual pining, and eventually, Feelings. Also Non is a surprisingly effective wingman, even though he very honestly had no intention of being one. Seriously, everyone is just so confused. (technically incomplete but read it, that is an order. 7/? chapters, 42k words)

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This - In which Astra watches TV for the first time, falls asleep, and has a series of seven very bizarre dreams, each of which ends with her falling in love with one Alexandra Danvers. Which is just silly. Humans are ridiculous. Why would General Astra In-Ze ever fall for a human, even a human as brave, and clever, and kind, and strong, and impassioned, and protective, and brilliant, and beautiful and…damn it. (complete - 7 chapters, 36k words)

all by uisceB. Just read everything this person has authored. Just do it.

Anyway, I have a whole GD fic rec already done! It was done almost a year ago, though, so I would recommend checking out anonymississippi and alittlelesspain to see what they’ve done in the meantime!

Sansaery: (Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell - Game of Thrones)

I can provide you with my past fic rec for that here and also with a handful of more recent fics than that first one, here!

Faberry: (Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray - Glee)

Sooooo many fics! Enough for two previous rec lists here and here!

Bechloe: (Beca Mitchell/Chloe Beale - Pitch Perfect)

Here is a whole rec list :)

Jetra: (Jane Villanueva/Petra Solano - Jane the Virgin)

marry me a little by celaenos - Petra swallows, remembering the night in the stairwell. Thinking about how it was the first time Jane had felt real to her since the day they met, and how she didn’t want it to end, and how that was so, so dangerous. To want like that.(Or, Jane marries Petra to save her from Milos. And things start to get real complicated after that.) (complete - 18 chapters, 110k words)

Cartinelli: (Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli - Agent Carter)

the mothering of us by QuickYoke and ratherembarrassing - The Black and White Ball was a masquerade ball held on November 28, 1966 at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. Hosted by author Truman Capote, the ball was in honor of The Washington Post publisher, Katharine Graham. – Director Carter attends. (one of the best fics I’ve ever read. Complete - 3/3 chapters, 60k words)

Living Arrangements by netgirl_y2k - Angie almost says, I think Peggy and me are basically married, and I don’t think she’s noticed, just to see the look on Jarvis’s face. (Complete - 1 chapter, 3k words)

i broke my bones playing games with you by mooosicaldreamz - Captain America wakes up and causes quite the scene too, bursting into the middle of Times Square and turning circles around in wonder. The video plays over and over on the news, which Angie watches then, over and over, at the diner. There’s the gorgeous Peggy Carter, at the center of a storm of suits and Escalades, staring up at the big lights. She doesn’t look a day over 26, and honestly, Angie thinks she looks beautiful. Modern day AU where Peggy is Captain America. (complete - 2 chapters, 22k words)

Tony and the Gal Pals by comicbooklovergreen - “Hey Peg, you here? You’re never here early. Should I be worried?”Tony froze, looking to Peggy for direction. Only then did she think that perhaps she should’ve consulted Angie before absconding with Howard’s child and bringing him to their home. Or, the one where Peggy gets tired of Howard’s negligence and does something about it. (complete - 3 chapters, 16k words)

Faithfully Yours by nofearqueerhere - Angie sends a letter overseas in a “write to our boys” campaign for the war effort. She doesn’t count on it falling into the hands of Agent Carter of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. But she doesn’t exactly complain, either. (complete - 13/13 chapters, 18k words)

Shoot: (Root/Sameen Shaw - Person of Interest)

the domestic hell series by enginerd - The machine has a funny sense of humor when it gives the team a new setof ID’s. Suddenly Root and Shaw are married in the New York suburbsplaying house. What happens when the machine puts you in a house that wasthe block Halloween Party house for years?

OR: Root and Shaw are in suburbia throwing a Halloween party. God helpthem. (4 words in the series, all one shots between 10k-15k)

Kismet and Other Movements by aelysian - She can’t see her without craning her neck, but she can picture themischievous gleam in brown eyes, the sharp cuspids that add bite to the flirtysmile.

“Are we playing, Sameen? You haven’t told me what the rulesare.” Soulmate AU. (complete - 5 chapters, 17k words)

The 32nd Annual IFTEC by ionizable - University AU where Root and Shaw have been forced to work together to plan and run their school’s engineering competition. In no particular order, there will be: “oops I accidentally fell in love with you” Root, an excruciatingly slow build, jealous Shaw, jealous Root, donut thievery, eventual smut, backstories, nerdiness, things moving right along to the complex plane after the midpoint, and most importantly: cheesy science jokes! bad puns and corny jokes! (complete - 12 chapters, 41k words)

connective tissue by bightly_bightly - “In a world where you can always find something to die for, Root gives you everything to live for."Root and Shaw, feelings and sex. This started out as me wanting an excuse to write the line "If you want that, you’re gonna have to do better than pancakes and light bondage” and it just sort of… evolved. (Complete - 14 chapters, 50k words)

Natural Selection by kesdax - They keep their heads down. They survive. Until their number comes up. Post Season 3 finale. (complete - 14 chapters, 55k words)

Fish Out Of Water by donteatmyfingerprints - Completely AU. A mermaid. There is a mermaid in front of her. (Sooooo au, but so weirdly good. Complete - 3 chapters, 15k words)

Swan Queen: (Regina Mills/Emma Swan - Once Upon a Time)

Send Up a Signal (that everything’s fine) by coalitiongirl

Emma Swan is catapulted into stardom, the newest lead actress on asanitized show featuring modern fairytales. Regina Mills is a long-underminedstar with a chip on her shoulder and a thousand reasons why she’s invested.Naturally, they loathe each other on sight.

Their characters’ fanbases, however, have other ideas. (complete - 21 chapters, 117k words)

and everything else by coalitiongirl. Really there are just too many to name.

step into my office baby by foxbones - This is what you get for doing the nice thing, Emma thinks. You do that whole Pay It Forward bullshit - you buy a lady some coffee and you pretend like it isn’t totally motivated by how she looks in a pencil skirt - and she goes and insults your business card and turns out to be your company’s new Executive Director. Real fucking cute.From now on, she is drinking tea. or, the one where they’re in an office. (complete - 16 chapters, 41k words)

Wedding Crasher by misscanteloupe - “My sister, Zelena,” she spits out the name like it’s poison, “Is getting married this weekend in California. My mother is potentially the biggest pain in the ass when it comes to who I take in as lovers. I need someone who will aggravate her to no end and keep her from meddling in the future.”

Emma blinks. “Why me?”

“My mother hates blondes.”

“Oh,” Emma says slowly, and god. She gets the feeling she’s signed herself up for one fucked up family reunion. “Cool.” (complete - 1 chapter, 6k words)

Deliver Me by wistfulwatcher - “I was told a double rush order would be here in twenty minutes or less,” she said coolly, and gestured to the clock on the wall beside them.

Looking over, Emma saw the face reading 6:45, just a few minutes past the twenty minute deadline. Eyes narrowing slightly, she licked her lips. “Yeah, it’s just a couple minutes past,” Emma said, and shifted her weight to one hip.

Tilting her chin up slightly she repeated, “Twenty minutes or less,” and Emma felt her head start to pound. What a way to end the day. (Complete - 5 chapters, 38k words)

A Fine Line by hunnyfresh - Upon Regina’s banishment, the small town of Storybrooke becomes protected once again by an enchantment that prevents anyone from leaving or entering Storybrooke. Emma and Regina find themselves on the edge of the town, wishing for a way to the other side. (Complete - 3 chapters, 18k words)

… I’ll see myself out. I hope you enjoy some!

#sanvers #general danvers #shoot #swan queen #cartinelli #jetra #bechloe #sansaery #faberry #fic recs

445 notes · View notes

marauder--harder · 7 years ago

Text

Drowning- A Remus Lupin Imagine (Part 5 of The Torturous Year)

A/N: Okay, so I know I really am The Worst as I’ve said that this would be up ‘today’ for the last three days. But I wanted to be sure that I didn’t have to make any changes to this chapter because of my plot hole that was found (thanks @obscurilicious btw) so I had to plan out the next two chapters to figure that out. That being said, this is a hella long chapter (12k words) that I absolutely adore, and dare I say, may be my favorite thus far? I don’t know, you tell me. Strap in babies, because you are going to be in for a long, torturous, very bumpy ride. :) Enjoy.

Previous Installments: The Torturous Year. (Part 1) - Methods of Torture. (Part 2) - Pressure Points. (Part 3) - Sleep Deprivation. (Part 4)

You weren’t a person of violence, not really. Hot tempered and often quick to anger, no matter how often you said you were going to hurt someone you had little follow through. Defending yourself against the rise of the junior Death Eaters at Hogwarts was always difficult as you’d only really ever retaliate when you had no choice.

That didn’t mean that you wanted someone else to fight your battles.

Thus, when Remus decided that he needed to get involved in a fight that was clearly yours, you were livid.

“Y/L/N, fancy seeing you here.” You heard a voice above you and stopped to look up to see who it came from. Your eyes widened as you saw Evan Rosier staring down at you, a grin plastered on his face that looked more like a baring of teeth.

You furrowed your brows as you gathered the last of your books that you dropped after trying to hurry back to your dorm for a quick nap and stood. “It’s a hallway, Rosier. I walk it every day to get to Charms. You do too, seeing as you are in my class.”

Rosier chuckled in response and you grew more confused. “Sharp and pretty, you really are making up for your lineage.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, clutching your books closer to your chest. The way he was looking at you made you uneasy, and you briefly made a note of how quickly you could get to your wand if needed.

Leaning closer, Rosier continued to grin down at you and you noticed the way he tried to make it seem as if he was towering over you. Was he really hitting on you through intimidation? “Don’t worry, little bird, that was a compliment.”

Squaring your shoulders, you glared at him. “Well, it was a pretty shit one.”

Rosier rolled his eyes and reached out to try and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear but you dodged him quickly.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, a strong frown now on his face.

Shuffling backwards slightly, you shrugged him off. “You are, Rosier. I’m not your baby and I don’t want you touching me.”

You watched as Rosier’s face grew red with either anger or embarrassment, you didn’t know. “You should feel lucky to have me even talking to you, half-blood. You may be fit, but I won’t have you—”

“Rosier, back off,” Remus interrupted, walking up to you and him quickly. You saw the stiffness in his shoulders and the hard set in his jaw. Turning to you, he looking down at you with kinder, very concerned eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Oh, Y/N, is your little sorry excuse for a boyfriend talking for you now?” Rosier sneered, looking between you and Remus.

Before you had a chance to respond, and put him in his place, you heard Remus speak. “So what if I am? Got a problem with that Rosier?”

Rosier simply smiled sickeningly, something that looked more like a grimace than a grin. “The only problem I have is the fact that I am lowering myself to talk to you, Lupin.” Evan then turned towards you. “Now if I do believe correctly, we were discussing something?”

You stared at him and felt a quick spike of anger and fear hit deep within your stomach. You had to remind yourself that you were a Gryffindor and had no right to be scared of slime like him.

Before you could gather your thoughts Remus took a step towards him, blocking his path as Rosier tried to reach for your hand. “Don’t you touch her.”

“Or what, Lupin? What are you going to do about it?”

Without thinking, Remus’ hand moved towards his wand, and you watched Rosier’s eyes drift down towards his own. “A prefect, trying to start a duel? Tsk, tsk,” he admonished.

“You wouldn’t want to start a duel, Rosier,” Remus warned and even though you were growing more and more angry with the way both boys were seemingly ignoring you during this pissing match, you couldn’t help but note the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed as he tensed.

Rosier, for the first time since Remus butted in, glanced over at you before turning his eyes back to Remus. “And what if I do? The dueling club meets tonight, and I’m sure I could pull some strings to have an easy match.”

“Moony—” Peter warned gently, and you noticed now the crowd that you were attracting during this little showdown. People in the halls had stopped to watch and right smack dab in the middle of the crowd were the other three marauders in tow, tense and rigid, as if waiting for the moment that they’d need to jump in.

“Yeah, Moony, what do you say? 8 o’clock?” Rosier was now twirling his wand in between his fingers, almost egging Remus on. You knew that there was no stopping these boys now, and you were beyond pissed.

“Alright.” Remus nodded, his eyes flicking from Rosier to his wand, and slid a bit more to his right in order to shield you further.

“Perfect,” Rosier grinned, leaning over to see you, “and make sure to bring the prize.” He winked, and walked away.

You watched as Remus’ shoulders slumped as soon as he realized that Evan wasn’t going to come back and turned when he felt a rough clap on his back.

“Well Moony, looks like you’re in for a wizard’s duel tonight.” James smiled, almost as if he was proud of his friend.

Sirius grinned along with James, looking far too giddy at the prospect of this. “Finally going to take Rosier and all of those pricks down a peg. Want me to be your second, mate?”

Remus slowly started to smile, thinking of how great it will be to beat Rosier and the rest of his Slytherins. “Sure, if you wan—ow!” Remus turned around and rubbed his arm as he saw you standing behind him.

“What in Godric’s name is bloody wrong with you?!” you screamed, and drew your hand back to give him another slap.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Remus leaned back slightly. “Woah, I’m sorry, what did I do?”

His question, along with the confused look from the other boys made you drop your hand to your side. “Are you kidding me?? Do you not see what the problem is here??”

“Y/N, Moony will be fine; he’s a much better at dueling than Rosier is,” James started, and you cut him off with a quick glare.

“He could be shite for all I care!” You watched as the four boys around you furrowed their brows slightly, looking confused.

“Hey,” Remus added gently, reaching out to rest a hand on your shoulder and you quickly pulled away, cutting him off.

“Don’t touch me, Lupin,” you warned, glaring at him as his brows rose in shock. You’ve only ever called him ‘Lupin’ a handful of times before. “I can’t believe you did this, Remus. I don’t need you fighting my battles!”

Crossing his arms over each other defensively, Remus frowned. “Oh, and I was just supposed to let that creep get all handsy with you too?”

“No, you’re supposed to let me handle things for myself!”

“Oh, because it seemed like you were doing such a good job of that before I stepped in.” He rolled his eyes.

Biting your lip to try to keep composed, you took in a deep breath. The other boys were watching you and Remus go back and forth nervously, waiting for one of you to go too far and blow up.

“You have no right to step in, Remus. I can take care of myself.”

Hurt spiraled deep in his chest, realizing that you weren’t his to protect no matter how much he wanted you to be. “I’m sure you can.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to gauge his implications. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Remus sighed and shook his head, his face regretful. He didn’t think you could handle yourself? “Nothing, nevermind.”

You took a step back, realizing what Remus must have been implying. “You don’t think I can take care of myself? That I need your protection?”

Remus rolled his eyes, not knowing if he was more annoyed with himself or you for how this was turning out. “No, Y/N, it isn’t that…” But his words were no longer going through.

“When I said I was scared, I didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to fight, Moony. I told you that,” you started, and you fought down the stinging that was now burning in the back of your eyes. “A-And what about all of that shit about me being a bright witch? Were you just talking out of your arse??”

Remus tried reaching out for you again but you pulled away harshly and stumbled backwards. “Y/N, please,” he started and tried desperately to shake the anger that was still running high. “I just wanted to protect you.”

“I didn’t need protecting!” you shouted, your vision now blurring with unshed tears. “Not from him.”

Remus’ brows furrowed. “Then who?”

Shaking your head, you bent down to pick up your bag. “Nevermind.” You glanced over at Sirius who was looking at you sadly, knowing exactly who you thought you needed to protect yourself from. “Good luck tonight, Remus.”

And you turned, leaving a hurt and confused boy, who now didn’t want to fight at all.

Remus, who was originally calm and collected at the thought of dueling Rosier, worried about this duel for the rest of the day and well into the afternoon. He skipped out on lunch, not being able to stomach anything and would have missed dinner as well, if it wasn’t for James’ mothering.

Thus, he sat at the Gryffindor table, pushing his food around his plate without taking more than two bites, constantly searching across the room for you. When he finally did spot you, he waited anxiously as you approached your usual spot next to him, and hesitated before sitting down.

“Good evening, Remus,” you acknowledged politely, determined not to act as petty and hurt as you felt.

“Good evening,” he responded, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift and gnaw at his bottom lip, something you knew he did when he was worried.

The rest of the table carried on their conversation, determined to not acknowledge the tension between you two. Sirius had tried talking to his friend after you stormed off, saying that Remus was going to be shit tonight unless he figured this out. Remus tried making eye contact with Sirius across the table, silently asking for some sort of advice. Sirius just simply nodded his head and motioned for the young boy to start talking.

“So,” Remus started and continued to push his food around his plate. Noticing this, you furrowed your brows and turned to look at him.

“Are you okay? You’re not really nervous about tonight, are you?” Remus was one of the best duelists you knew; he was bound to beat Rosier.

Remus looked down at your concerned face and his heart ached more in his chest. How you had the heart to care about him when he clearly hurt you earlier was beyond him. “It’s not really this duel I’m worried about.” His voice was soft and eyes gentle, trying to convey what was bothering him.

Looking down, you sighed as you felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Look Moony, I was thinking about it, and maybe you’re right. Rosier is a talented wizard and I probably couldn’t have handled myself if I needed—”

Remus cut you off by placing a warm hand on your arm gently. After a few moments of you staring at it, he backed off, not knowing if you were okay with his touch again. You weren’t before and he shouldn’t assume that just because you lost your confidence and agreed with him that it would be okay.

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant before,” he started, and turned towards you more, making sure that he said this the right way this time. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were a bright witch, you know. I never thought you couldn’t handle yourself, but I just couldn’t stand to see you put in a position in which you’d have to.

“You’re capable and strong and a Gryffindor for a reason. I never meant to use your own fears against you, sweetheart, and I’m sorry it came off like that.”

You looked up into Remus’ eyes and tried to search for any signs that he was just saying this to save face. Seeing none, you sighed and took his hand in yours gently, something that clearly shocked him into a startled smile. “Remus, I—” you started and stopped, trying to search for the words to say. “I know you don’t need it, but good luck tonight.”

Leaning over, you gave him a gentle peck on the cheek before smiling and pulling away. “And thank you; even if I think it’s downright primitive, it is also sweet what you’re doing.”

Remus’ face warmed and he didn’t even try to hide the giant grin as he turned back to his food. “Of course, Bubbles. This neanderthal would do anything for you.”

He was surprised further when you actually threw your head back with a loud laugh. “Watch it, Moony, or you’ll be right back in the dog house…”

Taking a large bite of food, he grinned and winked. “Woof.”

“So I see the two of you have kissed and made up?” Sirius asked with a grin.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed a roll at his head, a warm blush spreading to the tips of your ears. “Oh sod off, Padfoot.”

“I’m just saying!” he justified, ducking to avoid being hit. “If the two of you haven’t shagged already, you should; make up sex is one of a kind.”

Remus shook his head and took another bite of his food, simply ignoring his friend. He tried not to focus on the adorable, attractive blush that was working its way past your cheeks to your ears, or the delicious way your jaw flexed as you ate your food delicately.

“Sorry, Padfoot, I think Moony needs his strength for tonight instead. Maybe a different fight.” You turned to look up at him with the same big, innocent doe eyes that drove him wild.

Remus stared down at you for a few moments, watching your eyelashes flutter tauntingly. “Yeah,” he noted, leaning towards you subconsciously, grin wide and toothy. “I would definitely need all the strength I could get.”

A sudden heat spiked deep within your belly and you bit your lip lightly, winking. “Oh you would, big boy.”

“Guys, if you would be so kind as to not verbally fuck at the table, some of us are trying to eat,” Marlene added, leaving both of you quiet and blushing for the rest of the meal.

Just after the plates had been cleared and mostly everyone was ready to head back to their dorms, you felt a presence behind you and a lingering brush against your back. You immediately tensed and frowned as you saw who it was behind you.

“You know, Y/N, you can save your little mutt of a boyfriend the humiliation tonight so long as you just say yes to me.” Rosier smiled, leaning down close to be eye level with you.

Remus, who was off talking to his Head Boy, stiffened at the site of Rosier at the Gryffindor table. He glanced down to you, however, as if asking if you needed any help. You smiled softly and decided that Rosier was going down.

“And why would you want little ol’ me, Rosier? I’m just as much of a mutt as Remus is,” you questioned, not batting an eye at his grotesque smile.

“Ah, this is true,” he stated, bringing a hand up to brush along your cheek before you snatched yourself away from him, “A pity too; but you are the fittest mutt I’ve seen, so I’m sure I can make an exception.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned. He really was disgusting. “Can’t be an exception if I’m not willing, you arrogant prick.”

Rosier simply grinned wider, and leaned down close enough to be a whisper’s breath away. You watched as Remus started walking over to the two of you now, clearly not happy. Somehow you realized that Rosier was waiting until Remus got closer, just to get him even more riled up.

Once Remus was close enough to be in earshot, he leaned in further to emphasize that he wasn’t supposed to be heard and whispered, “Who said I needed you to be willing.”

He pulled away just in time to see you blanch slightly and laughed. Turning to Remus, he waved. “Ah, never far, are you little mutt?”

“Is there a problem here?” Remus asked, ignoring Rosier and turning to you. He wanted to be sure that you were okay before he dealt with him.

“N-no problem, Rosier was just leaving.” You glared at him, but your voice held less malice than it usually would. You’d hate to admit it but the way Rosier spoke made you realize that he wasn’t joking around.

“She’s right,” Rosier added, backing away slightly. “I’ll see you tonight, Lupin. Can’t wait to win my prize.” He winked at you before turning and walking out of the Great Hall, his friends behind him.

You waited until the doors to the hall swung closed before you turned to Remus, who was perched close. “Are you okay? He didn’t touch you did he? I swear, if he hurt you I’ll—”

You cut him off however, looking him dead in the eye. “You have to win this duel, Moony.”

Something about the shift in your demeanor shook Remus to his core, and he frowned. Whatever happened between you and Rosier just now scared you, and he realized that scared was not something he saw on you often. “Don’t worry,” he smiled gently, reaching up to brush a strand of hair back and frowned further when you tensed for just a moment. “I got this, Y/N. I’m not going to let that bastard lay a hand on you. You’re safe.”

You nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right, sorry. Plus, I should be the one giving you the pep talk.”

Remus smiled and offered a hand for you to take, pulling you to your feet. “I’m sure you could find another way to give me some pep.”

Your jaw dropped in mock astonishment, “Remus John Lupin, you scoundrel! You are supposed to be a gentleman in order to win the affections of a lady.”

Smiling still, Remus bowed in response. “My apologies, your highness. May I ask of a different form of encouragement as I fight for your honor tonight?”

Looking around, your cheeks grew red as you watched the rest of the people left in the Great Hall stare at his gallantness. “Get up, you big oaf, or you’ll never be getting anything out of me.”

Standing up straight, Remus couldn’t help but beam at the way you quickly ushered him out of the Great Hall and away from the stares of others. “I’ll take that as a promise for later, Y/N.”

You snorted, “You wish.”

Wizard duels between students were always forbidden unless under the supervision of the Dueling Club at Hogwarts. You had never understood the appeal of wanting to duel and only now, once there, did you realize how great it would have been had you known how to properly. Many Slytherin Junior Death Eaters were in the club, as well as those who you could tell genuinely loved the craft, but it still unnerved you. Up on the platform was Evan Rosier and a seventh year Slytherin whom you didn’t know. He looked like he would be a perfect beater though, as he was massive and strong looking.

Evan and him both bowed to one another before starting their duel. You watched with nervous trepidation as Evan took him down quickly. It seemed as if it wasn’t even a challenge. You looked to Remus who looked nonchalant, but as you made eye contact you saw the slightest shift of nerves pass over him before he smiled reassuringly at you.

“Lupin!” Evan barked out, jumping down from the platform in front of us. “You actually decided to show up. Although, I guess you are a bloody idiot Gryffindor after all.”

His eyes quickly shifted from Remus to you and he grinned wickedly. “I see you’ve brought my prize. A perfect incentive to keep me sharp,” he chuckled lowly and winked at you. The action brought a wave of nausea over you and you shivered involuntarily in repulsion.

“You said 8 o’clock, Rosier. Let’s get this over with, I have better things to be doing,” Remus muttered, still looking aloof as possible.

Sighing and tearing his eyes away from you, he nodded and turned to walk back up the steps. “You have your second?” he asked, looking over at Severus Snape, who you imagined was his own second. The boy was now a known enemy after the whole ordeal with Lily and you frowned as he stared at you with a sharp glint in his eye too.

Remus hummed and motioned to Sirius who was lounging in a chair to the left of the platform already. “Of course I do, I know how these things work; I’m not an idiot.”

There was a hesitance before his response. “No, I suppose you aren’t a complete dunce, I will give you that.”

Turning to Remus, you caught the bottom of his shirt as he started ascending the steps. “Remus,” you called softly, and he turned to you with worried eyes.

“Yeah?”

You bit your lip gently and fought back a slight whimper that was bubbling up in the back of your throat. You really had no idea why Evan freaked you out as much as he did, and suddenly you really thought that it was a bad idea to fight him. It wasn’t even about the barbaric nature of it anymore, just the realization that he could get really hurt. You tugged on his shirt again to have him drop down a step and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I do. I’m not going to let this smarmy git go anywhere near you, okay?”

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded slightly and cracked a hesitant, unsure smile. “Thank you.”

Remus returned the smile and took your hand in his. “Anytime, love.”

You felt your heart flutter shamefully and glanced over at Evan, who was practicing his wand movements with Severus, before looking back to Remus. “His left side is his weaker one. He tends to use defensive spells more when coming from that side.”

Remus smiled wider and nodded. “Got it, thanks.”

You let him go and watched as he climbed up the steps. “Oh, and Remus!” you called out and he turned to look down at you from the platform. “Knock him on his arse.”

Remus simply winked in response and went to get into position. You walked over and sat next to Sirius, who was looking just as aloof and carefree as Remus, but you could see the hard set of his eyes, as if challenging anyone to make a wrong move.

“He’s going to be okay,” you said softly, and rubbed your clammy hands on the material of your pants roughly.

Sirius nodded, watching Moony intently. “Of course he is. You worry too much.”

“You worry about the ones you love,” you whispered, so softly that Sirius thought he was hearing things. His eyes widened and opened his mouth to ask if you were sure but was interrupted by the beginning of the match. Your eyes were plastered to the two boys dueling, the only recognition Sirius had to know you truly said what you did being the slight pink in your cheeks as you watched.

And it was the longest duel you had ever seen. The duel ran long as two highly skilled wizards battled it out with powerful hexes being blocked by even stronger shields. You shamefully noticed the way that, over time, Remus’ brow grew damp with sweat and his white shirt started to soak through, letting it cling to his toned, lean body. He used his nonverbal skills in rapid fire, something that you didn’t even have the pride to not admire. The way he channeled such obvious raw power made you want him even more. Over and over again Rosier was forced to use spell after defensive spell in order to shield himself from the attacks.

Eventually Remus used a nonverbal Expelliarmus to disarm him and then Flipendo to effectively knock him off balance. He watched with glee as Rosier just lay there for a few moments, panting from the force of having the wind knocked out of him. Remus walked over to the idle wand and picked it up before slowly walking over to Rosier, who was sitting on the ground in a daze.

Standing over him, you watched as Remus’ own chest heaved trying to breathe in as much oxygen from his burning lungs as he could. He bent down closer to Rosier’s face and grinned as he whispered something in his ear before standing upright and holding out his hand for Rosier to take.

Scowling, Rosier scoffed loudly and mumbled something under his breath before shoving Remus’ hand away to stand on his own. He snatched his wand from Remus’ outstretched hand and stormed off to Snape, who was scowling just as hard as he was.

Remus’ posture straightened in pride as he turned and walked down to the steps to the platform, and over to where you and Sirius sat.

“Well done, mate. I got to say, that was the most intense duel I’ve ever seen.” Sirius smiled and clapped Remus on the shoulder happily.

Remus chuckled, still slightly out of breath and nodded to Sirius as he offered a towel to dry off with. You watched with terrible fascination as Remus wiped at his forehead before slinging the towel over his shoulder casually. “Thanks, Padfoot. I didn’t realize Rosier was that good to be honest. He must have been practicing for a while in the club.”

“Yeah,” Sirius added, nodding along with him. “Y/N was telling me that she thinks the dueling club is new practice territory for the Junior Death Eaters. She counted too many when she walked in, right Y/N?”

Remus and him both turned to you, who was intently watching the path of a large bead of sweat that was trailing down the side of Remus’ temple. It dipped into a bit of his hairline quickly before continuing down its path over his jaw and down his neck. There it joined another bead, and you licked your lips quickly as you noticed the lovely glisten of his flushed skin.

“Uh, Y/N?” Sirius asked and you blinked once, snapping your eyes away from his body to Sirius.

“Yeah?” you asked quickly, ignoring the blush that was rising to your cheeks at being caught as you were more focused on the low heat that was already simmering and making your blood boil.

“You okay?” Remus asked, voice slightly hoarse and you fought back a groan at the sound. “You seem…” he trailed off and cleared his throat slightly as he watched you lick your lips yet again, thinking of the way his salty skin would taste. “Distracted.”

Smiling hesitantly, you forced yourself to look into his eyes and hoped he wouldn’t realize the reason you were staring intently. “I’m fine, Moony. Just glad you beat that creep.”

“So you’re not mad anymore?” he asked, thinking back to the way you were so angry just hours earlier and now you seemed as if you wanted to jump him; and boy would he let you, if only you tried.

You shook your head and smiled softly. “Godric, no. Remus, thank you for doing this for me.” You reached out to hug him, arms open wide as your threw them around his neck tightly. “As much as I hate to admit it, I probably did need to be protected from him.”

Remus’ own arms wrapped around your smaller frame tightly, pulling you flush against him. “Of course, Y/N. I’d do anything for you,” he whispered softly against the shell of your ear and the heat within your belly spiked at the sound of the low rumble in his voice.

Breathing in deeply you caught the scent of Remus’ obvious exertion mixed with a scent you knew as Remus. It was the beautiful smell of old parchment, an earthy tea and marmalade that now had a sweet, almost musky scent surrounding him. You felt your head start to grow fuzzy and you smiled as you took in another long inhale, trying to bury your face in his shoulder subtly. The way he smelled was intoxicating and you wanted to whine with the amount of need building.

The two of you stood there for a few moments before Sirius cleared his throat loudly, causing you to pull away with a jolt. You looked around to see Rosier and Snape glaring at you and Remus, and instinctively felt yourself shift behind Remus. You furrowed your brow at the realization, not usually being one to cower when being challenged. It must have been your hormones that were throwing you off.

“Okay, I should probably go shower. I smell like absolute shite,” Remus muttered, cheeks warm with an attractive flush or blush, you couldn’t tell.

Furrowing your brow further you blinked a few times and tried shaking yourself out of this haze and back into reality. You had to act normal.

“Yeah, you do, mate,” Sirius joked, and threw his bag at him.

“Let’s go then,” he smiled and motioned for you both to follow and your eyes grew wide.

“Inviting me to shower with you, Moony?” you asked and internally cringed at how obvious you were sounding. Godric Y/N, that is not what he meant!

Remus simply grinned lazily and shifted his bag on his shoulder slightly. “Darling, I would if I wasn’t so exhausted from that bloody duel.”

You felt your cheeks warm with embarrassment and slight shame as you heard the subtle rejection. Of course he’d turn you down gently, it was Remus after all.

Yet, you felt a slight pull at your sleeve that caused you to lean closer to him. “Trust me, Y/N, I’d want to be at my full strength for you. I’d have big plans,” he muttered with a cheeky grin and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. All the same, your face flamed and you couldn’t have helped the small, whimpering moan that escaped the back of your throat at the thought.

“You two really need to shag already,” Sirius grumbled, walking passed the both of you with a frown. “And Y/N, you might want to just roll on him in order to better scent him.”

Remus simply threw his head back in laughter and pulled you both along, heading back up to his dorm so he could shower.

Hours later, after his shower—and the quick one he rubbed out to the thought of you joining him—he, you and the rest of your group were sitting around by the fire in the common room, discussing the duel.

“So you really knocked Evan Rosier on his arse??” Peter asked, a giddy, pleased look on his face.

“He sure did. Honestly, I hadn’t seen anyone duel like that in ages. Moony and him were going at it for over an hour!” Sirius exclaimed, looking all too proud to have been there for the match.

You, however, were lounging in the chair next to Moony, who was sitting on the couch next to Sirius. You had your arm propped up on the arm rest nearest to him, trying not to be obvious in the way you were trying to be close to him. The whole time he was in the shower, you couldn’t help but imagine the way the hot water was soothing away his aches and pains, as he wiped away the layer of sweat and grime that came with dueling for so long. You imagined the way his shoulders would slump and relax, letting the hot water roll down his back. Each drop would fall in the contours of his body, creating delicious paths down the nape of his neck, over the muscles in his toned back, dipping into the small of his back, down his spine to his perfect arse. The thought made you shiver and practically ache with need.

Looking back over at him, you watched as he smiled with lazy pride as Sirius filled everyone in on the events of the duel. You thought back to the duel yourself and realized just how talented Remus really was. Evan Rosier put up a good fight, but Remus used stronger shields and quicker hexes that were also nonverbal. He really did have a knack for all nonverbal magic.

“Hey Moony,” you mentioned quietly, pulling him from the conversation and turning to you. “Why didn’t you use incarcerous up there? I mean, you said it was a spell you knew well.”

Remus frowned for a moment, thinking about the repercussions of using such a powerful spell in a duel. With such anger and frustration running high, especially being channeled to only Rosier, he couldn’t think of a good way that it would end up for him. Simply thinking too hard about having someone tied up could warrant something too tight and painful as a result. As much as he hated Rosier, and wanted him to pay for making you feel threatened, he knew that stooping to his level to cast actual harmful hexes his way would be going too far. Sadly, he knew that going too far meant little to the wolf deep inside him.

He looked at you, smiling softly at your own slightly confused expression. Not wanting to bring down the mood, he shrugged off the idea. “Well,” he started and shifted slightly to lean in closer to you. “That is something I only use for very special occasions, darling.”

He watched as your confusion turned into a delicate, shamefully pretty smile and a slight, warm blush. You really were beautiful; how had he never noticed exactly how pretty you were as you matured?

“Ah, I see,” you mumbled, and glanced at Sirius who was looking at you with a shit eating grin. It seemed like he was almost always grinning at the two of you lately, and it was beginning to freak you out. “Well, I’m pretty knackered after worrying that you’d get your pants hexed off for over an hour, so I’m off to bed. Goodnight, Moony.” You stood from your seat and smiled gently, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you again, my great, big neanderthal.”

Remus merely grunted softly like a caveman in response, grinning up at you. “Goodnight, Bubbles.”

“Remus!!” You scolded and shook your head, heading up the stairs.

Turning back to the rest of the group who were suddenly silent, he furrowed his brows in confusion. “What?”

“Bubbles?” James and Lily asked in tandem, and Remus’ eyes went wide. Oh no, you’d actually kill him.

The next morning Remus woke to a delicious smell of chocolate wafting over him; he inhaled deeply and smiled, enjoying the sweetness of the air. Opening his eyes, he blinked a few times and looked around, realizing by the light in the room that he must have slept through breakfast. Reaching out to the bedside table he grabbed his glasses that he rarely wore, mostly because he constantly loses them even if he refused to admit it, and blinked a few more times.

There, sitting on his bedside table, was a small tray with a chocolate muffin and some fresh fruit, along with Remus’ favorite morning treat: a piece of toast with fresh jam. He smiled in slight surprise, furrowing his brows as he wondered who would have left him breakfast. James, perhaps, although he was usually one to get him up instead, focusing on having “family meals” as he so often liked to call them.

Picking up the jam and toast, he took a big bite and smiled in delight. Still slightly warm, he noted that it must have been left relatively recently. Munching away on his lovely surprise breakfast, he started towards the loo to get ready for the lounging Saturday. Only once he was fully dressed and nearly ready to head down to the common room did he pick up his chocolate muffin and notice the small note sitting underneath.

I noticed you slept through breakfast. Can’t have you starving now, can we? I heard that you may need your strength soon.

Thanks for fighting for my honor or whatever, big boy. ;) xoxo

Raising his eyebrows in astonishment, Remus grinned broadly at the note left for him. You teased him that he’d need his strength, yeah? Good Godric, you were going to kill him. Sighing softly, he still smiled, knowing that even if you were teasing he should still probably thank you for being such a dear to him. He’d just need to stop in the loo once more before he left to, ah, make himself most presentable.

Once out and on his way, Remus grabbed his bag and headed down to the common room. There, he looked around to try and find you, wanting to send his thanks and possibly see if you wanted to head down to the library to do some reading today. You and him had moved many of your late night meet ups to a more reasonable hour lately, meeting up in the daylight to study in the library, take a walk around the castle, or even sneak off to Honeydukes for some sweets.

“Peter!” Remus called, walking over to his friend who was sitting across from James, trying to play a game of wizards’ chess. “Have either of you seen Y/N?”

James merely smirked slightly, as Peter resumed his position in trying to beat his friend. “So you got your gift, I imagine? She had me set it up for you after you didn’t come down for breakfast this morning. Mate, if you think I nag you about eating properly, you should have heard her go off about how you were a growing boy….”

Rolling his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Yes, I noticed it. Now would you tell me where Y/N is so I can thank her?”

James turned and waggled his eyebrows at Remus. “Are you going to thank her with a snog?”

“Excuse you, that is none of your business, Prongs!” Remus replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you must know, I was planning on being a real person and just thanking her.”

James smile dropped slightly, and turned back to the board. “Lame. You’ll never get her then, mate.” He moved his knight across the board and captured Peter’s rook. “Check.” Peter sputtered for a moment before sighing and moving his pawn.

“Oh and I should be taking advice from you, yeah?” Remus asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

James eyes widened slightly before narrowing at Remus. He cleared his throat, fighting down a blush and moved a pawn of his own.

“That’s cold, Moony,” Peter muttered, and smiled slightly as he saw that James left himself exposed. He captured his knight and grinned. “Check!”

James blinked for a few seconds, staring at the board, before shaking himself out of it. “If you must know, Moony…” he trailed off and studied the board for a few moments. Remus sighed and shifted from one foot to the other. This was honestly taking too long for him, maybe he should just use the map. “I think Lily and I are actually becoming friends this year.”

Remus sighed gently before nodding. “Yeah, I know Prongs, and I’m happy for you; but I’d also like to thank my friend for doing something nice for me. Any chance you’d be able to help me out?”

James nodded, still staring at the board. “She’s in her dorm. Has been since leaving you breakfast this morning.”

“Thanks,” Remus nodded to them both and left, headed in the direction of the girls’ dormitory staircase.

“Oh, Moony!” Peter called out, causing Remus to stop and turn back. “How long have you and Y/N been friends?”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Years, why?”

“Well if James and Lily should be friends before he could ever have a chance, I was just thinking…”he trailed off, twirling a captured bishop in his hands. “What are you waiting for?”

Remus blinked once, then twice, before smiling softly at his friend. “Thanks Pete, I’ll think about it.” He turned, walking towards the stairs, a whole new prospect to talk to you about looming on his mind.

“Check mate.” He heard in the distance, then laughter from James.

“Oh, come on!”

After disarming the male repellent charms on the staircase, Remus scaled the stairs two at a time, trying to get to your dorm as quickly as possible. A sudden burst of courage from Peter made him realize that maybe you did want him and maybe he should just go for it.

Reaching your door, he smiled and cleared his throat. He was going to go in and thank you for the breakfast, seeing how you reacted. Maybe he could thank you with a kiss… The thought brought a warmth to his face and he shook his head. “One step at a time.” He knocked a few times, and waited for your answer but heard no response. He turned the handle gently, slightly surprised to find it unlocked and let himself in.

“Y/N?” he called out, but got no response and furrowed his brows in confusion. Maybe you slipped out without James realizing. Remus sighed softly and looked around, noting the small pad of paper on the desk next to what he knew as Marlene’s bed. He hadn’t been here often, but there were times that Remus and you would read up here when nowhere else was free.

Walking over, he leaned down and began writing you a quick note, telling you how thankful he was for the breakfast and adding that the two of you needed to talk. Before he could finish the note, however, he heard a slight scraping noise coming from behind him, on your side of the room.

Turning, his eyes widened as he saw you pushing your drawer closed before stepping into a cute pair of blue satin bikinis. He stopped dead in his tracks, gripping the quill tightly, as he watched your hips bend, arms reaching out to grab the waistline of the panties, slowly pulling them up the smooth expanse of your skin. He noticed the soft blue color contrast prettily against your legs, watching silently as he followed the trail of the fabric up the back of your thighs, before sliding over your perfectly perky arse. He noted the way your panties hugged your behind firmly, the added lace trim giving him a wonderful show of the underside of your arse.

He felt his whole body heat, more than just a blush, but as if he was going to burn. His pants quickly grew tight as he heard the small snap you gave the elastic once they were set in place. Not being able to help himself, he let out the smallest of whimpers in the back of his throat; all coherent thought gone, being replaced by the one idea to walk over and take you as many ways as he could.

Your gasp brought him back to reality however, as he saw you begin to turn and bit his lip in response. He caught the smallest glimpse of the side of your full breast before he snapped his eyes shut and turned away from you.

“Remus!” you squeaked, grabbing your towel from your bed and covering yourself quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry!” he muttered, and physically cringed at how dry and wrecked his own voice sounded in his ears. He cleared his throat in a poor attempt of composing himself before responding, “I—uh, tried knocking and I thought you were out.”

Each of you blushing from head to toe, you noticed the stiff way he held himself and the low timber in his voice. The sound made the embarrassing heat spike even further and a strange sense of butterflies formed at the realization that Remus had just seen you nude.

“I’m sorry, I should probably go,” Remus muttered, taking your silence as uncomfortable and upset. He turned towards the door and started walking towards it, eyes glued to the floor. You gasped softly when you heard him grunt as he hit the doorframe on his way out, but didn’t bother stopping.

Remus quickly bounded down the stairs, his groin physically hurting with how painfully hard he was. Cursing himself over and over, he continued to mutter to himself as he crossed the common room quickly and started up the steps to his own dorm. One his way up, he bumped into Sirius, who was casually walking down the stairs to the common room.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry, mate?” Sirius asked, slightly amused.

Remus stopped for a moment to look down at Sirius, and growled. “Is the room empty?”

Sirius’ brows rose at Remus’ tone and he nodded. “Yeah, it is, why?”

“Make sure it stays that way for a bit,” Remus muttered and shifted slightly before taking in a sharp breath, groaning ever so slightly. Sirius watched as his friend grew slightly more flushed and quickly pieced together why he was so agitated.

“What she do this time?” he asked with a barking laugh. You really were killing Moony, the poor thing.

Remus turned and shook his head, climbing the stairs, muttering a simple, “shower” as his only response before slamming the door shut loudly.

Tortured: 1

Torturer: 0

Walking down the stairs, Sirius chuckled to himself and sat down on the couch near the fireplace. Closing his eyes, he leaned back, deciding to take a quick nap. However, about fifteen minutes later he heard footsteps slowly making their way towards him and he opened one eye to find you standing over him, wringing your hands together nervously.

“Um, hey Padfoot,” you mumbled, “have you seen Remus by any chance?”

Sirius huffed in laughter before stretching and opening his eyes fully. “Sure did, sweetcheeks. He nearly took my arm off bumping into me earlier. You really got him riled up; he looked almost painful to the touch.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment and hung your head. “Ah, yeah…”

“Do you tease all guys this much before you shag them?” he asked, a smirk on his face. “Because I got to say, I don’t think Moony is going to last much longer, hon.”

Your flushed face and silence made Sirius furrow his brows in confusion. “You do know that you’re driving him mad, don’t you?”

He watched with mild amusement as your face reddened even further and you crossed your arms over one another defensively. “I-I’m not! I mean, I didn’t mean to; he walked in on me!”

“I meant in general, sweetheart. Moony is walking on real thin ice here—has been for a while.”

You furrowed your brows slightly and shifted uncomfortably. “He has?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. “What are you, a virgin?” More silence was heard and he looked up to see you shift from foot to foot, avoiding his gaze. “Oh Merlin, poor Moony…” Sirius groaned.

“Excuse me?” you shrieked, dropping your arms to your sides. “Poor Moony?? Just because I haven’t had sex before doesn’t mean I’m some type of prude, Sirius.”

Sirius sighed loudly and sat up, motioning for you to sit next to him. “No, that isn’t what I meant.” He started and took in a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. “Look, Y/N, you and Moony have been doing this little flirting thing for months now; and it may have started out innocently but you know that isn’t the case anymore.”

“Sirius, you know me pretty well, yeah?” you asked and saw him nod in response. “Then you should know that I wouldn’t do anything with anyone, or at least anything serious, unless I knew that I could actually have something with them. And I couldn’t ever have that with Remus.”

Sirius watched as you bit your lip and looked down at your hands. “Y/N, if this is going where I think it is, then I don’t know you at all. Moony is a great guy and if you can’t see past—”

“Merlin, no!” you cut him off, eyes wide in shock. “That wasn’t even in the realm of—that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Good.”

“It’s just that I know Moony doesn’t see me like that, you know? And he’s so perfect and handsome and smart and… He deserves everything.” You hung your head low. “He deserves a lot more than just little ol’ me.”

Sirius frowned deeply, watching as you fought down the tears that were threatening to spill over. “Y/N,” his hand reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you not see the way Moony looks at you?”

You scoff bitterly and pull away. “Thinking that I’m fit and wanting to be with me are two very different things to me, Pads.” Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment and for the first time, Sirius saw the vulnerability within you. He watched as you composed yourself, your posture stiffening just slightly and your face becoming less red and splotchy, as if you weren’t on the verge of tears just moments ago.

“Moony’s up in his room if you still want him,” he replied softly, unsure of how to comfort someone who was already so closed off to the possibility of having a chance with the person they love.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him sadly. “Thanks, Pads, but I think I’m just going to head out for a bit. Take a walk, try to clear my head.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Taking in a deep breath, you sighed before reaching out to give Sirius a big hug. “Thank you, Sirius.”

“For what?”

You smiled and pulled away before standing. “Just being you, not being a berk in teasing me about this.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, by the way. You are more than enough.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you tugged at the sleeves of your sweater, pulling them over your hands anxiously. “Thanks, but that isn’t really for me to decide.”

Sirius looked up at you, seemingly at a loss. “You said you loved him.”

“I do,” you nodded, “and I think I always will. Doesn’t mean that everybody gets to live happily ever after. We may be magical, but life isn’t a muggle fairy tale, you know.”

“Guess not.” Sirius shrugged and watched as you made your way out of the common room, through the portrait. Why couldn’t he just have kept his mouth shut?

You wandered throughout the castle for hours, no particular destination in mind. Somehow you found yourself wandering closer and closer to the places that you and Remus used to frequent, the Astronomy tower, the library, and even down towards the dungeon. Yet as soon as you realized where you were, you’d frown and turn away, trying to get to a place that didn’t remind you of him.

It was only out in the quad, where you were idly watching a few third years playing Gobstones, did you run into someone.

“Y/N?” A deep voice sounded from your right and you shook out of your trance to look up at Davey Gudgeon walking towards you. “You alright there, love? You looked like you weren’t with us for a second there.”

You simply smiled politely and chuckled. “I’m fine, just a bit lost in my own head I guess.”

He nodded and leaned against the same stone wall you were. “Knut for your thoughts then?”

Not really wanting to talk about Remus when you were trying to get him out of your head, you shrugged slightly. “I guess just worried about NEWTs. It’s a big shift from OWLs and I worry that I’ll fall behind.”

“I remember my first year of NEWT classes,” he added, shifting slightly against the wall to turn towards you. “It was rough but I don’t doubt that you couldn’t handle it. From what I’ve heard, you’re bloody brilliant in Potions.”

You blushed lightly, still not used to the attention you received around the subject. Having a father that is a well known potions master certainly didn’t help either, or relieve any of the pressure.

“That’s just it,” you crossed your arms over one another as you felt the wind pick up. The mid-February air still hadn’t lost its chill, and even in one of Sirius’ stolen jumpers you were cold. “Even if I’m good at the subject, I can’t afford to fall behind because of my dad. I can’t disappoint him, you know?”

Davey frowned slightly and furrowed his brows. “Are you going to be a Potions Master too?”

You looked down at your shoes, watching them tap their toes together repeatedly. “I don’t know; that’s what everyone wants me to do.”

“But what do you want?” he asked and you felt him slide closer to you, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze.

You smiled sadly. “Dunno; nobody’s ever really asked me that before.”

Davey smiled back and took in a deep breath before dropping your chin to offer his hand. “Let’s head back in; it’s gonna rain soon. I want to show you something.”

You glanced up at the clouds that were darkening the sky and then down at his hand. Slowly you put your hand in his own and he simply beamed, pulling you along with him. He walked quickly and only then did you notice how tall he was compared to you. Your eyes travelled from the bottom of his feet all the way up his head and noted that he had at least a foot on you.

“Come on, slow poke,” he jested and gave a small tug at your arm, causing you to laugh and stumble.

“I’m not a slow poke, you giant! Not everybody has such long legs like you!”

Slowing slightly, he chuckled and winked at you. “Not the only thing that’s long, love.”

You rolled your eyes and scrunched up your nose in disgust. “Ugh, gross Davey.”

“Just saying!” he responded and grinned toothily. “Alright, we’re here.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion and looked around. “What am I looking at?” The two of you were standing in the hallway on the third floor, seemingly nothing around you.

“Here,” he pointed over to the wall that housed a few trophies in a display case. The two of you walked over and you saw a moving picture of a young boy who looked an awful lot like Davey being thrown into the air by a group of students. They looked like they were celebrating.

“Is that—”

“My dad,” he said, voice quiet. “He played for Hogwarts back in the day and used to play professionally for the Chudley Cannons. Everyone expects me to follow in his footsteps. I’m captain of the team, I have a legacy father, but…” he trailed off.

“You just don’t know if it’s for you?” you asked with a smirk, knowing exactly how he felt.

Nodding in response, he looked back to the moving picture where his father looked so happy. “I’ve got nothing against quidditch; I’m good at it and I really like it. My little brother, Galvin, idolizes dad and me because of it. I just don’t know if it is what I’m meant to be doing. If I just follow in the footsteps of my dad, I won’t ever know what’s out there for me. Maybe I was meant to do something more, you know?”

You smiled at him sadly and rested your hand on his arm gently. “What would you want to do?”

He thought for a moment. “I think I’d want to be a herbologist.”

“I think I’d want to be a healer,” you whispered.

A large hand came and rested over your own. You looked up and smiled back at Davey. “You’d be a great one, Y/N.”

“You too.”

Remus frowned deeply as he saw Davey look down at you in the middle of the empty corridor, his hand resting atop your own. His heart sank deep in his chest at the sight of you smiling gently back up at him. He really had misread all the signs before. What was he possibly thinking when he thought that you’d be remotely interested in someone like him? Even if you were, which you clearly weren’t, he’d never be able to have anything with you anyways.

Turning away, he stomped down the stairs, his feet moving faster than his brain. He didn’t care where he went as long as he didn’t have to be anywhere that reminded him of you.

Hours passed and Gudgeon and you eventually parted ways. You had spent a few more hours talking before it got too late and you decided to turn in for the night. Walking you back to the common room, you hadn’t even thought of Remus until you stepped foot through the portrait. Thoughts of him and what happened earlier today hit you forcefully and you frowned, eyes drifting over near the fire. Usually after a long and cold night you’d spend the next few hours warming yourself by the fire. Remus would then find you and the two of you would spend practically the whole night talking with one another or reading to each other. Yet now, the idea set a sad ache deep in your bones that you knew the fire could never warm.

Standing in one spot near the portrait’s entrance way, you didn’t realize you were staring until Sirius walked up to you. “Y/N? Helloooo??”

Shaking yourself out of it, you blinked a few times before looking over at him. “Padfoot,” you started and smiled politely, “sorry about that. Were you saying something?”

“I was asking how it went with Moony.”

You furrowed your brows. “With Moony?”

Sirius’ eyes widened ever so slightly. “Moony said that he was going to talk to you hours ago. Did he not?”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over one another. “No, he didn’t. Do you know where he is?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since he left.”

You bit your lip in worry. If Remus wanted to talk to you, it was probably about what happened in your room earlier this morning. You sighed softly, the slight trill of excitement you originally had at the thought of him seeing you now gone, only leaving a sad embarrassment. “Let me see the map.”

Nodding to you, Sirius rummaged in his bags before handing it over. “He seemed like he was in a rush, so I’m sure he’s still looking for you.”

You nodded, not really hearing him and muttered a quick thanks before heading back through the portrait. You opened the map and searched the castle, trying to find him among the hundreds of names littered across the map. Furrowing your brow, you frowned as you saw his name far out beyond the castle walls. Down by the Great Lake a small name, “Remus Lupin,” was printed. Throwing the map in your bag, you slung it back over your shoulder. You huffed in annoyance and wrapped your jumper sleeves over your hands to try to stay warm. “Bloody perfect, Moony.”

Walking out on the grounds, you grumbled to yourself the whole way there, growing more and more annoyed as you were now chilled to the bone. Once you arrived at the edge of the Great Lake, you watched as the rain bounced off the surface of the water in strong pellets. You looked around, squinting in the growing dark as you tried to find him. You figured that the sun would have probably been setting prettily along this very water if it hadn’t been pouring.

Underneath the tree, however, you spotted Remus, back turned to you and knees pulled to his chest. Walking over, you stopped a few feet behind him when you noticed his shoulders tense and him shiver in the cold.

“Remus,” you called out. “What in the bloody hell are you doing out here?”

The wind howled loudly, whipping your cold, soaked hair around quickly. Remus simply tensed further before resting his head on his knees silently.

“Remus!” you called again and walked closer to him. “Are you trying to catch your death?!”

He finally lifted his head and turned, looking up at you with tired eyes. There were dark circles making his face look slightly hollow and his nose was a bright pink. You didn’t know if it was from possible crying or the cold.

“You should go back inside, Y/N,” Remus mumbled and you strained to hear him over the rain and wind.

“So should you, you absolute loon! What in Godric’s name are you bloody doing out in the fucking rain?! Was seeing my bum earlier really that upsetting to you?”

Remus suddenly frowned further and shifted towards you more. “Excuse me?” His voice was hoarse, yet somehow deep and powerful.

Crossing your arms over one another, you shifted under the tree in a feeble attempt at sheltering yourself from the rain. “You heard me! Honestly Remus, I’m sorry that you saw me naked, but you’re acting more weird about it than I am! Why else would you be sitting out here when the bloody heavens opened up??”

Standing to his feet, Remus turned and crossed his arms over one another defensively. “You aren’t my mother, Y/N!”

Furrowing your brows, you frowned and bit your lip in frustration. “No, but I am the one who is going to end up taking care of your sick arse so let’s just get inside!”

Remus took a step towards you, hands now at his sides. Looking up at him challengingly, you watched as he glared down at you. “Don’t tell me what to do, Y/N,” he warned.

“Or what?” you asked, and noticed the way he towered over you. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you in the slightest. “What are you going to do about it, Moony?” Your voice was now fighting over the wind howling in your own ears.

As Remus took another step towards you, you huffed and reached out trying to push him back. Your hand pressed into his hard chest with a loud smack as it hit the soaked material of his shirt. You pushed further and felt yourself struggle against the muscles that you had really never noticed there before. Looking up at him now, you noted the way his eyes darkened slightly as your own hand reflexively grasped onto his shirt, clawing lightly against his chest. Your eyes scanned across his face and watched as his usually curly, tousled hair stuck to his forehead in dark, slightly messier strands. You followed the wet drops of rain from the tips of his hair down the side of his face, across his clenched jaw and down his neck before running into the collar of his shirt.

You gulped and bit your lip, taking in his soaked button up, eyes trailing over his broad shoulders and down towards his wet trousers. When your eyes reached the buckle of his belt, you felt yourself snap your head back up to his face, cheeks flushed from something entirely different than embarrassment.

Remus took another small step forward and your hand that was still gripping at his shirt flexed, scratching at him again. You heard a low growl being ripped from his throat and fought back your own whine at the noise.

“We’re going inside,” you mumbled, and waited with bated breath for the second growl. You suddenly felt a tightness at your own hips, however, and felt yourself be pulled flush against his front.

Looking up at him, you slowly grinned at the way Remus was clearly staring down your now soaked sweater. The outline of your dark bra could easily be seen against the light color of the borrowed jumper and Remus’ hands travelled from your hips to your arse slowly.

“Watch your hands, Lupin,” you warned, and Remus’ wolfish grin widened.

“Watch your mouth, Bubbles,” he snarked, eyes obviously flicking from your own eyes to your wet, slightly chapped lips.

“Make me.”

Hands squeezed at you roughly, your own tangling themselves in his wet hair quickly. Your mouths met in a frenzy, nothing soft or hesitant. Remus kissed you harshly, as if searching desperately for something that only you could satisfy within him. You moaned softly into his mouth, and you felt his body shiver against yours.

As your lips met, Remus felt the wolf deep within him howl in pride. You felt a sharp tug at your bottom lip as Remus nipped lightly, a demand to enter your mouth further. You whimpered in response and he gripped you tighter, the wolf desperate to lay his claim on you. Both soaked to the bone, the two of you stood in place, not caring about the thunder that was now chasing after the lightning in the sky.

Remus finally pulled away to breathe, but after waiting for so long, your mouth wasted no time in finding any patch of available skin it could. Your lips left open mouthed, hot kisses against his cool, wet skin and he groaned loudly as you began experimentally sucking at his pulse point. A hand gripped at the base of his shoulder while the other trailed down the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. Every nerve was on fire and you all you could think of was more.

As your small hand tugged at the buckle of his belt and continued down to brush over the large bulge in his trousers, Remus’ eyes snapped open. Suddenly Remus’ hands fell from your arse, and you couldn’t help the needy whimper that tumbled from your lips.

“Moony, please…” Your voice was breathy and utterly ruined, laced with obvious need for him.

Gripping your shoulders gently, Remus physically detached himself from you, needing the space in order to effectively calm himself. The action made your own eyes snap open in surprise, looking up at him with lust blown eyes.

“Remus?” you asked softly, and Remus bit his lip as he realized what he had just done.

His heart raced as panic spiked deep in his chest. Fuck, this is not what was supposed to happen. He was never supposed to lose control around you; he let it go too far.

“I-I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t mean to—” he started and trailed off, dropping his hands from your shoulders and taking a half step back.

You didn’t even try to hide the hurt that flashed across your face as Remus tried to take back what just happened between the two of you. “Oh,” you mumbled and tried straightening your jumper that was soaked to your skin. “I see.”

“Y/N,” Remus reached out, hesitating slightly as he went to rest his hand on you again; it was as if he was afraid to touch you now. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s just go inside before we get sick,” you muttered and turned, walking back towards the castle quickly, not caring to check if he was following you. As you walked back towards the castle, you kept your head down, lungs burning for air as if you were drowning and heart too shattered to feel it start to freeze.

Tortured: 0

Torturer: 1

That night Remus was getting ready for bed after a long, hot shower to try to warm him from the perpetual chill he felt since he had headed inside. He was bent down, rummaging through his trunk, trying to find his warmest pair of pajamas when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Remus looked over to his friend, who was leaning against his own bedpost, arms folded over one another in accusation.

“So,” Sirius started, “what exactly is going on between you and Y/N?”

Remus blanched and frowned, feeling the sickening twist of guilt wrench deep in his gut. Despite this, he turned back to his trunk and continued looking through it. “What do you mean?”

Sirius pushed off his post and walked over to Remus, “I mean the two of you are practically fucking every time you’re together.” He uncrossed his arms and moved to snap the trunk shut, missing Remus’ hand by a second. Remus watched as his knees bent and suddenly he was face to face to a crouching Sirius. “So what exactly is going on there?”

Remus cleared his throat nervously, feeling his face warm slightly. “Look, I don’t know, alright? I never meant for it to happen, but she’s just so…” he trailed off, trying to search for the words.

“Teasing?” Sirius supplied and Remus felt himself flush even further. His mind flashed to the teasing way you shimmied your hips when pulling up your panties to the way you looked up at him as if you’d have let him take you right there if he wanted just hours earlier out by the lake.

“Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat again. “And I know she thinks I’m fit, so I go with it. She always gets that same look in her eyes that the others birds do.” Remus sighed heavily and pushed off his knees to stand upright.

“Wait,” Sirius interjected, and stood along with him, leaning in close. “You think she just thinks your fit? Really Moony?!”

Remus blinked once, then twice, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Yeah?”

Sirius ran his hands through his hair and let out a long groan. “Merlin’s beard, how can you be so blind?!”

Suddenly Remus felt all too uncomfortable. “Excuse me? I’m blind, how exactly?”

Sirius suddenly paused, stopping his burst of pacing and took in a deep breath. “Look, she’s over the moon about you, mate. I don’t know you haven’t seen that yet.”

Remus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms defensively. “Padfoot, she’s not. She couldn’t be, I mean look at me!” He knew that what he was saying was at least a partial lie, as he remembered the desperate way you clung to him as he kissed you; yet, he couldn’t let himself think that he could have a chance. If he did, then he really just fucked things up.

Sirius suddenly turned, truly looking at Remus. “Mate,” he started and Remus didn’t know whether his next words would be comforting or a threat. “You’ve known Y/N for years. She is arse over tit for you and this is more than just her thinking about a good lay. You of all people should know that she isn’t that type of bird…”

Remus stopped and really thought about the way you’ve been acting around him for the last few months. It was obvious that you had a sexual attraction to him but with the other attention he had been receiving he didn’t think that it would be anything more than that with you. He didn’t realize that the hurt in your eyes could have been something more than just the typical embarrassment of rejection.

“Even if that’s true, I couldn’t do anything about it and you know that.”

Sirius groaned loudly again and rolled his eyes. “Really? You really think that she cares about you being a werewolf, Moony?!”

“I don’t care if she cares, I care! I’m not going to risk her entire future just because of me!” Remus snapped, growing frustrated at how everyone always assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Well you have a pretty shite way of showing it then, since you nearly shove your tongue down her throat every chance you get.”

Growling lowly, Remus’ eyes darkened into a hard glare. “Shove off, Sirius.”

“No, Remus, you shove off. I don’t know what you think you’re doing here with her but you can’t keep up this charade anymore. You’re leading her on, and Merlin I’m not going to have her crying her eyes out to me when she finally gets tired of your games.”

Remus stilled and dropped his glare, blinking at a very tired looking Sirius. “Has she really told you how she feels?” His heart sank as he thought of you crying your eyes out to Sirius after what he did earlier today. Merlin, Sirius would never forgive him.

Sirius shook his head slightly and looked down. “I swear, she’d kill me if she knows you knew, but yes. Now you need to tell her how you feel before I do, mate.” Walking over towards the door, he paused and turned to his friend. “Once she knows that the only reason you are staying away is because of your bloody furry problem, do you really think she’s just going to accept that?”

And with that Sirius walked out the door, leaving a confused and overwhelmed, very regretful Remus in his wake.

Tag List: (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

@gondorgirl01 , @dare-to-dream-about-1d , @my-nonexistant-romance , @pigwidgexn, @moonysmemes , @psycho-b1tch , @wondurr-one , @ginnylupin, @obscurilicious , @itty-bitty-baby-face , @goghadventuring , @apareciumimagines , @fangirlyea , @batgurl32467 , @mischiefs-never-managed , @dazedanddeceased , @themidnight-train , @jellyzombie , @where-the-fuck-is-my-tiara , @thaliasdays , @girlygirlbishop , @ihave2muchtimeonmyhands , @chaotic-obsessive , @danny-sexbang-is-goals, @moonswormypadsprongs , @rainbowflames , @tjlcruinedme , @fantasticchaoticwho , @narellie66 , @-waythe- , @sometimesicryintheshower , @ultrabarnes , @im-tired-please-stop , @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire , @the-apple-princess , @joelynnp , @heidimonkey , @draqcnheartstrinq , @lolingggatu

#remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #the torturous year #marauders imagine #remus lupin x reader #harry potter imagine #remus lupin

524 notes · View notes