#contracted soul!Harry

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 

And that person is music producer, Y/N. 

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting. 

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing. 

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

���She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one. 

NEXT PART

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[twostepstyless]

Elves Wanted

Main Masterlist

SFW

Author’s Note: Y/N and Harry are drama students from two separate drama schools just looking to make some extra money over the Christmas period. Colleagues to friends to lovers ig? No major warnings I don’t think, maybe a tiny little chat about Christmas being a hard time of year. 

This is my first piece of writing in a looooong long time, so please be gentle  

As always, likes, reblogs and feedback of any variety is encouraged and always appreciated - G x 

Word Count: 7.7K+

It was the middle of November when Y/N saw it. The poster looked threatening. A large font, emboldened and in scary looking shade of red. The paper had gone a bit wrinkly as if it had been clutched tightly in a hand full of piles of the same advert printed over and over again. A contact email was printed multiple times along the bottom on tear-off tabs of paper, the fact that only one tab containing the address was missing added to the overall unappealing look of the advertisement that Y/N found on the ‘Opportunities’ board in the reception of her drama school. It looked threating compared to the opportunity it was offering. 

ELVES WANTED was printed at the top of the sheet followed by a short, bulleted list of qualifications:

Must have an enthusiastic and friendly personality

No experience necessary

No maximum height limit!!!

Great pay for festive season!

DBS checks will be carried out. 

Illustrations of holly leaves and berries bordered the A4 advert and severe looking underlines on the next steps asking for a headshot and CV to be forwarded to the recruiter’s email attached to the tear-off slips. A mall elf. Santa’s little helper. Y/N didn’t think it was the worst gig she could have in the world. Another thing to add to her CV she supposed. She realises she’s trying to convince herself into doing it and she was of the mindset if you had to convince yourself something is a good idea, it probably isn’t. But the Christmas holidays were looming and her student loan never in a million years could stretch towards Christmas presents and the zero hours contract she had a greasy spoon café down the road from her flat was certainly not helping either. She was desperate for consistent income to see her through Christmas. So, with a sigh, she ripped off the email information. 

***

Across the city, Harry was stood in front of an advert on the ‘Opportunities’ board in the reception area of his drama school. Harry frowned, then leaned in closer to get a better look. He read the poster twice, then a third time, and despite his better judgment, he felt a strange pull. There was something ridiculous about it, something he couldn’t quite shake. The idea of becoming an elf at Santa’s Grotto in a shopping centre, a 6-foot (on a good day at least) elf at that, on the surface, was completely mental. But then again, he thought back to the acting gig he had over Christmas last year and thought anything would be better than that. Plus, he loved Christmas really, and getting to spread a bit of joy can only be a positive thing. He rubbed his temple as though to clear his thoughts, still staring at the flyer. ‘Great pay’, the poster said. That was tempting. What the hell? He could be an elf for a month. Maybe there was something strange and fun about playing a cheerful holiday character—something a little whimsical and different from his usual typecast as a tortured soul or brooding romantic lead. Harry's lips quirked into a smile. “I can totally do this,” he muttered to himself, snapping a photo of the requirements and ripping off the contact email and shoving it into his pocket. 

***

Y/N trudged back to her flat after leaving uni, fell into her bed and fished out her laptop to send her email to the elf recruiter. She attached her most recent headshot and newly updated CV and sent it off to the email address she clung onto. As her laptop screen faded to black, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the screen. She didn’t look happy. She looked knackered actually, with heavy dark circles around her eyes. The past few months had been a lot. Exhausting, frustrating, and filled with self-doubt. She’d just finished a semester of intense Stanislavski system classes which were emotionally, physically and psychologically taxing when she was applying them to the acting pieces she was performing. She longed for a break, for something to remind her why she had fallen in love with performing and acting in the first place. Maybe this odd elf job would do that—maybe she could rediscover some joy in performing, even if it was just a month or so of prancing around in stripy tights and painted on rosy cheeks.

Y/N sighed and shook her head, but a small smile crept onto her lips. Why not? she thought again, maybe she could learn to appreciate Christmas again. 

***

Winter had truly set in the next week when Y/N arrived at the shopping centre’s service entrance. The wind nipped at her face, the only bit of her not covered up by woolly or fleece fabric. Despite the cold, there was a gentle hum of festive energy beginning to spark. She had her phone open directing her to the disused unit nearest the newly built grotto which they had turned into a dressing room and break room for all the actors who were going to be working there over the holidays. She had to agree there would be something distinctly unmagical about a child seeing the elf that had shown them to Santa, or the big man himself, walking through the mall with a backpack over their costume to catch the tube home.�� 

This was it—the first day of her “elf job,” as ridiculous as it seemed. She still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d gotten herself into. At least Noelle seemed nice enough as a manager when they’d spoken over zoom after Y/N applied. (Y/N still wasn’t sure if that was her actual name or that Noelle just loved Christmas that much, she’d given it to herself, she wouldn’t be shocked if it was the latter) And hey, it wasn’t like there was anything else on her schedule at the moment, classes having broken up for an extended Christmas break this week to allow the students to pick up winter acting gigs. 

The smell of cinnamon and something distinctly chocolatey wafted through the air as she hurried through the shopping centre, the disused unit between the small Boots (the big boots was on the second floor) and Clarks shoe shop was her end goal with a note to show up at 8:30 to be assigned her costume, meet their Santa and the other elves and to be talked through what their role was and what do before the kids started arriving to meet Saint Nick at 10:30 A.M. 

She was first there. Not a shock, she’s notoriously early to everything. Just Noelle in the space, ticking Y/N’s name off the list attached to her clipboard and urging her to pull up a chair until the rest of her colleagues arrived. Tubs of celebrations and heroes cracked open on the tables for the employees to pick at if they were on break. 

Y/N quickly snagged a Malteser one from the red tub knowing those were her favourite but always the first to run out in a box of Celebrations. As she rammed the chocolate into her mouth a deep, slow voice called out.

“Hey! Are y’here for the elf job too?”

Y/N looked up. A boy—no, a man—was walking toward her, a friendly smile on his face. He was tall, like worthy of stating in your dating profile tall, with chocolatey, perfectly tousled hair like he’d just ran his fingers through it and it fell perfectly. His cheeks were also flushed from the cold, and there was an energy about him, an air of confidence that could potentially approach cockiness, but not in a dickhead way, a way that made Y/N feel suddenly self-conscious. She straightened up, trying to look more confident.

“Uh, yeah.” Fuck, she still had the half-chewed Malteser sweet in her mouth, she swallowed it harshly. “I am, yeah,” she said, his voice coming out a little awkwardly. 

The man laughed lightly, as if sensing her discomfort, and stuck out his hand. “M’Harry. S’my first day, too. So, we’re in the same boat.”

Y/N hesitated for a second before shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and his-Harry’s eyes sparkled with a kind of warmth that she wasn’t used to.

“Harry,” she said. “Yeah, I figured I wasn’t the only one.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing around. “Have y’seen the costumes?” he asked with a grin. “Noelle was pulling the rail out as I came in,” he nodded towards the rail now in Y/N’s peripheral, “and not that I’m biased towards the fact me n’you are here first… but I think we’re going to look the best.” 

Y/N snorted, suddenly picturing the pair of them in the green and red get up she could see swinging around on hangers that Harry pointed out. “Yeah, right. I’m not sure there is a looking the best in those but I’ll try not to look too much like a walking, talking Christmas tree.”

Harry laughed again, his voice light and carefree. “You could be a very stylish Christmas tree. And if not, I’m sure the kiddies will love you anyway. I mean, it’s hard t’look serious in tha’.”

Y/N had to agree. She could see tiny bells on the tips of the curly toed shoes and around the base of the pointy hat that were jingling in an absurdly cheerful way as Noelle pulled the rail up towards the congregating elves, more of whom had arrived in the time she had been speaking to Harry not that she noticed them arrive. 

“I’m guessing you’ve done this before?” she asked.

“Nope,” Harry replied with a shrug, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “But I’m an actor, so literally trained in fake it til I make it.” She glanced at him knowingly. “I’m sure you can, too.”

There was something about the way he said it, so effortlessly, as if being an actor was the most natural thing in the world. Y/N felt a pang of recognition. She was the same way, always pretending like she had her shit together when, in reality, she felt like she hanging by a thread the vast majority of the time.

“You’re an actor, too?” she asked, as Harry pulled a twirl out the box of heroes and snaffled it down just as quickly. 

“Yeah,” he said round the mouthful of chocolate, “Where d’you go?” 

 “Oh, I’m at RADA,” she said with a sheepish smile, as though it were no big deal. “How about you?”

“The Conservatoire,” Harry replied in a similar tone. “It’s… kind of intense there. Everyone’s obsessed with Shakespeare n’like fuckin’ Laurence Olivier,” he chuckled. His voice tinged with self-deprecation. “Which is fine, and y’know same but sometimes it feels like m’in an endless cycle of waiting. Auditions, classes, workshops, more auditions…” He trailed off, realizing he was rambling. “Though suppose you’re the same at RADA,” He finished.

Y/N’s eyes softened a little. “I get that. Sometimes it feels like I’m auditioning for my own bloody life instead of actually living it, and the constant seriousness can really knock the wind out of it and make you forget why you started acting in the first place.” She leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms. 

“At least this elf job is different. It’s kind of nice to do just… do something fun, you know?” Harry suggested.

Y/N nodded, a little surprised by the ease in which he found the bright side. There was a grounded quality to him that she hadn’t expected, especially when he said he attended the conservatoire. He didn’t seem to be caught up in the competitive, high-strung nature of their shared world, or if he did, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.  Maybe it was his willingness to embrace something as silly as playing an elf that made him stand out to her.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “I think I’m just overthinking it. Like, this is the first thing I’ve gotten in a minute that’s actually paying me, and I’m being weird about it. Plus, I’ve got the perfect excuse to wear a fun outfit for a month,” she giggled, hoping to match his blasé attitude. 

Harry smiled back, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “Exactly!” 

Before their conversation could go any further, Noelle, decked out in an obscene Christmas jumper with glittery yarn and flashing lights stood at the front of the now full room.

“Hiya chookies! Welcome to your first day as Santa’s helpers!” she said brightly in her bubbly Welsh accent, clapping her hands together. “I’ve spoken to you all before but just to reintroduce I’m Noelle and I’ll be your manager for the duration of this job! You’ll be working alongside our Santa Claus, Arthur, bringing the magic to life for all the little ones we’ll have coming to visit right up until the 24th of December. You’ll mostly be working in pairs which I can split you up into- or I see most of you have split into little groups already so that will do just lovely too!” 

At the mention of already being in pairs, Harry and Y/N’s eyes flickered up to each other’s with a small smile from Y/N and a wink from Harry that made Y/N’s stomach swoop as he mouthed ‘partner’ at her. 

Noelle continued, “so we’ll get you costumed and your elf’s name assigned to you, then we’ve got a few little training things to get through before we kick off the festive season with our first visitors at 10:30!” 

***

The rest of the morning was a blur of final costume adjustments, training videos about handling children, and learning the ropes of the “Santa meet-and-greet” routine. Introduce, smile, take the kid to Santa, reassure any nervous little ones, pass out candy canes til you’re blue in the face, and sprinkle as much magic and joy in there as possible as they went. As 10:30 approached, Harry found himself standing next to Y/N at the edge of Santa’s grotto ready for the first batch of children to arrive. 

Through the noise of the shopping centre, chatter and the beep of checkouts and the rush of activity, Harry caught Y/N’s eye and offered her a dazzling smile. “Well Sugarplum,” he said, now referring to Y/N as her Elf name, as was required in their training, his voice low enough for only her to hear, “here we go. Let’s see if we can make some Christmas magic without completely embarrassing ourselves.”

Y/N laughed softly, knocking her hip against his playfully. “You’ll do great. Just remember to smile like you mean it and even if we’re pretending that it’s the most magical moment of your life.”

Harry rolled his eyes but found himself smiling anyway. “I’ll try my best. Elf-ing is harder than it looks I reckon.”

As the first family approached the line, Y/N leaned closer to him, her voice playful. “Ready to bring some joy to the world, Jingles?”

“After you, my jolly little elf,” Harry said with a smile, feeling something spark between them that he couldn’t quite name, their shoes jingling as they bounced forwards to greet their first family. 

***

The first shift was chaotic.

Y/N had been bracing herself for the madness of it all, but nothing quite prepared her for the relentless pace of the Santa meet-and-greet. From the moment they arrived at the grotto and workshop themed area, complete with twinkling lights, piles of fake presents, an enormous, fluffy teddy bear in the corner and nutcrackers as tall as Harry, it was clear that the role of an elf was not as simple as it seemed.

The instructions from Noelle had been brief—"Smile, be enthusiastic, don't get in Santa's way, and make sure every child gets their gift!"—but in practice, it felt like a never-ending whirlwind. The line of eager little children accompanied by parents and carers lapped around the grotto and down the hallways of the mall and the air buzzed with the excited chatter of families, the high-pitched giggles of toddlers, and the occasional wail of a child whose feet hurt from waiting or was a little scared of the man with the round belly and red suit. 

Y/N was feeling the initial confidence boost Harry gave her, waver. The green tunic was a tad itchy, the makeup to paint her cheeks rosy was 100% going to cause her a spotty breakout and the pointy shoes, which she’d thought would be a fun novelty, now felt like they were cutting off the circulation to her toes. She was supposed to be cheerful and welcoming, but every time she smiled, it felt a little forced. And then there was the jingle. The tiny bells attached to the hem of her outfit, hat and tips of her curly shoes made every step a clinking reminder that she was no longer the serious actor she aspired to be. No, now she was an elf, and that meant every footstep seemed to ring with the joyful spirit of Christmas. 

"Alright, Sugarplum!" Harry’s voice cut through the noise as he slid into place next to her. "You’re doing great! Just keep smiling!" His eyes twinkled with mischief, and Y/N couldn’t help but return his grin, even if it was more of a grimace.

“I’m not sure I’m pulling off the ‘joyful, Christmas spirit’ look,” she muttered, glancing at Harry. “I think the kids can tell I'm not really feeling it.”

“Oh, please,” he teased, adjusting his own costume, he had managed to twist one of the legs of his red tights around his leg as he peeled them up when he got changed and seemed completely unbothered by it. “You look like you just stepped off of an elf runway. Like we are North Pole Fashion Week right here. Autumn/Winter 2024’s finest!”

He was, in fact, a burst of holiday cheer. His costume fit well, minus the small problem with his tights. His movements were smooth and confident, and he had this way of leaning into his role that made it seem effortless. Every time a child came up to him, he greeted them with enthusiasm, making silly faces to the young ones who couldn’t talk yet, or twirling around to make them squeal and giggle.

Y/N, on the other hand, had already almost fell onto the nutcracker when a child approached her from behind. 

***

"Hey, Elves!" a little girl said in a high-pitched voice, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was maybe seven years old, with a haughty expression on her face that both Harry and Y/N couldn’t help but find hilarious. "I want a unicorn for Christmas."

“Uh, okay, a unicorn,” Y/N repeated, trying to channel the enthusiasm Noelle had instructed them to have. “Is that, like, a stuffed unicorn or an actual unicorn?”

The little girl stared at her blankly. “A real one. With wings.” As if that was obvious, Y/N thought.

Y/N blinked. “Oh… right. Well, I think we’ll need to ask Santa if he can make that happen. Santa has magical powers, you know, isn’t that right Jingles?” she gestured to Harry, desperately wanting to involve him in this conversation to get it over with quicker.  

“That’s absolutely right Sugarplum, but I’m not sure the unicorn’s gonna make it through customs...” Harry trailed off

The girl raised an eyebrow. “I don’t care about that. I want a unicorn. With wings.”

“Understood.” Harry nodded seriously. “I’ll put in the request to Santa’s workshop immediately.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Harry so turned away to get her giggles out as she organised the piles of gifts for the kids as the little girl continued on.

She gave a dramatic sniff before turning to her adult and questioning, “mummy why does that elf have all those on him?”

“All what, princess?” The little girl’s mother barely took her eyes off her phone while responding to her. 

“All those drawings,” she pointed her sticky looking hand to Harry while her mother finally looked up and over with distaste to see Harry’s lower arm exposed from where the fluffy cuffs on his tunic had ridden up, exposing the inky swirls that littered his arm.  

“I got these in prison,” Harry said to the child, seriously. 

“HARRY,” Y/N shouts whipping her head round from the reorganised piles of presents and a series of giggles. 

“Um, its Jingles to you, Miss Sugarplum,” he responded to Y/N with a sly look in his eye before turning back to the little girl, “I broke a lot of elf and safety rules,” he nodded with a sad sort of soft smile as the girl and her mother moved farther up the queue and away from Harry and Y’N’s section.

“You’re going to get sacked,” Y/N laughed. 

“Nah, no chance, I don’t reckon there’s any understudies for elves, I’m just trying to brighten the place up, they say Christmas cheer is spread through laughter,” Harry said reaching for one of the candy canes they had in a bowl to give out to customers.  

“No one says that” Y/N responded.

“Wel, I did just then,” Harry smirked before shoving his newly unwrapped candy cane between his lips. 

***

Y/N found herself laughing more, letting go of the relentless pressure she usually placed on herself. She still had moments of doubt, but they were becoming less frequent. And more often than not, Harry was there, laughing with her, encouraging her to embrace the more sparkly, joyful side of things.

By the end of the week, both Harry and Y/N were beginning to look forward to their shifts—not just for the pay check, but because of the time spent with each other. Their friendship was growing, deepening in those small moments of shared joy. They spent their breaks together, sharing their lunches and swapping stories about their schools, about their aspirations, about everything and nothing.

“I jus’ couldn’t face doing panto again this Christmas for some work experience, last year I ended up in a production of Cinderella at holiday park in the arse end of nowhere and let me just tell you never again,” Harry said round mouthfuls of the Subway sandwich he’d ran to go pick them up on their joint lunch break.

“You didn’t?!” Y/N gasped dramatically, putting her own sandwich down. 

“I did.” 

“Oh no you didn’t,” Y/N refuted.

“What y’on about? I did, I played Buttons.”

“Oh no you didn’t!” Y/N teased.

“Oh no you didn- OH ha ha, very funny,” Harry rolled his eyes playfully.  “But yeah I had to stay in a static caravan for the length of the run, and not one of those nice, posh static caravans with the deck and did y’know some of them have actual baths in ‘em too? It was a shit one, that smelt of damp and sand from the beach and had a scorch mark on the carpet from the fan radiator someone had put on upside down, the thing probably would’ve looked better if it had gone up in flames.”

***

It was the week before Christmas, when the shopping centre was at its peak. Crowds of shoppers were everywhere. Pushing, jostling, and frantically checking their lists. Santa’s grotto had gotten busier and busier and December went on, and Harry and Y/N were in the thick of it, dodging around children, parents, and cameras, keeping up the relentless pace of their elf duties. 

They were stationed in the photo line, dishing out candy canes left, right and centre to anyone who didn’t already have one clutched in their hands. The music overhead had transitioned from classic carols to the more upbeat, catchy tunes—"Jingle Bell Rock," "Last Christmas," and, of course what’s Christmas without a little bit of Mariah. 

“Honestly, feels like Christmas exploded all over this place,” Harry muttered to Y/N as a child skipped past them, jingling her own set of bells in her hair. He adjusted his own costume and shot a glance around at the sea of red and green. “I love Christmas but even I’m starting to feel a little less Santa n’a little more Scrooge.” 

Y/N’s grin was infectious. “I know, right? But I think I’m starting to really love it rather than seeing this as a quick, easy wage every week. It feels like a big Christmas party every day and really is starting to put me in the mood for the 25th.”

Harry snorted. “You’re a better elf than I’ll ever be then. I’m about two seconds from snapping the candy canes and calling it a day.” 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes glinting mischievously. “You could do that. But you’d be the elf who shows up on the ‘Naughty List,’ and frankly, I don’t think you want that reputation,” Y/N shrugged playfully.

“Well, there’s always next year,” Harry replied with a wink.

As the hours passed, the atmosphere only intensified. The mall was bursting with excited chatter, laughter, and the occasional tantrum from an upset child. Harry was starting to feel the weight of it all—the constant smiling, the relentless energy. He glanced over at Y/N, who seemed unaffected by it all. She was laughing, her face flushed from the warmth of the crowd, her energy infectious, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something—something more than the seemingly newly discovered holiday cheer that seemed to shine out of her pores like the lights round the Christmas trees. There was a depth to her that he couldn’t quite place. A vulnerability that was hidden beneath her new, bright exterior. He had seen it before, right at the start of their run—brief moments when her eyes grew a little distant or when she would zone out during a particularly quiet lull. She seemed melancholic a lot of the time at the beginning but the closer they got to Christmas her personality seemed to do a switch to the most utterly joyful person you could ever come across. Harry didn’t buy it, not completely anyway. 

After another round of photos, a break finally arrived. It wasn’t much—only fifteen minutes—but it was enough for them to run off to their break room to rest their jingled feet. Harry slumped down in his seat, taking a long, deep breath of the slightly cooler air of their break room. He caught sight of Y/N across the room, filling up a glass of water each for them from the cooler.

"Hey," Harry said, his voice a bit quieter now. “Y’alright?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide and a little startled by the question. She blinked a couple of times, as if trying to shake off some thought she’d been lost in.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied quickly, offering a bright smile. “I’m just… y’know. Trying t’make the most of the break.” She gestured vaguely around; the room was empty bar the pair of them.

“Right,” Harry said, but there was something in her tone that didn’t quite match the smile she was giving him. He knew her well enough by now to see that something was off. It was slight, subtle even, but it was there.

He took a deep breath, feeling that the awkwardness of the moment would pass if he just said it. “Look, Y/N... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable n’just tell me t’fuck off if I’m overstepping or anything… but I feel like there’s more going on with you than you’re letting on.”

She froze for a moment before placing the now full glass of water in front of Harry. Her eyes shifted to the floor, her expression briefly faltering before she met his gaze again.

“You’re talking about the personality transplant I’ve had in the last few days, aren’t you?” she asked with a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Harry shook his head. “No. I mean… yes. But not just that.” He pulled the chair next to him round to an angle so they would be basically facing each other eye to eye as he encouraged her to take a seat. Lowering his voice slightly. “I know m’not the best at reading people, but I can tell y’hiding something. You’re not as… I don’t know… there’s something not quite right about the smile you’re painting on, right?”

Y/N’s smile faltered, and she glanced away. “I’m fine, Harry. I promise.”

But Harry didn’t buy it. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in her voice, a tone as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact and not just him, that made him feel that she wasn’t fine.

“Y/N, m’not trying to make you talk about anything you’re not ready to share,” Harry said gently. “But… you can’t just bury everything under the elf costume and the smiles. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes,” he said with a soft smile as he nudged his knee against her own. 

The room was silent. Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, clearly battling with something. Harry held his breath, waiting. Finally, she sighed deeply, as if the weight of it all had become too much to carry any longer.

“I didn’t want to bring it up, s’a bit of a mood killer at this time of year,” she said quietly, her voice thick with something Harry couldn’t quite place. “But... I guess I’m just tired. Not physically—well, kind of. But emotionally. I don’t know… I’ve been pretending a lot this year.”

Harry watched her, his brow furrowing. "Pretending?"

Y/N let out a shaky breath and nodded. “My family... my dad... this time of year is always hard for me. Christmas is supposed to be happy, right? But it just... reminds me of everything I’ve lost. Things that don’t work out. People who move on.” She paused, her voice trembling just slightly. “I didn’t want to let it affect my job here. I didn’t want to ruin the fun, or the magic… and I guess it’s been a lot.”

Harry felt a pang of sympathy for her. The words hung in the air like fragile glass, and he could see how much it had cost her to admit it. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, he just nodded, understanding. “I get it,” he said eventually. “Y’don’t have to keep pretending, though. Not round me anyway.”

She gave him a small, relieved smile, but there was still sadness behind her eyes. “Thanks, Harry,” she whispered, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “I think I just needed someone to hear it. Even if it’s just for a second. I’m just… knackered,” she sighed.

Harry leant closer, offering gentle smile his hand reaching down to squeeze her knee. “Anytime. You know that.”

For the last few moments of their break, they just sat there, sipping on their water and cooling down for a bit, the noise of the shopping centre drifting in from the distance. Harry didn’t push her to say more, but they both knew something had shifted between them in that moment. Y/N wasn’t just his elf colleague anymore. She was a person with a past, with scars, with feelings. And Harry wanted to be there for her, even if it meant just offering an ear if she needed it.

And maybe she just needed to know that someone was there to listen, even someone she met working at Santa’s Grotto.

The break ended with the sound of a loud cheer coming from the main concourse of the shopping centre, where a new group of children had gathered to see Santa. Y/N downed the rest of her water and gave her cheeks a few quick pats to wake herself up, as if the moment of vulnerability had never happened, and smiled at Harry.

“Ready for round two?” she asked, her voice lighter than before.

Harry nodded. “Let’s do this Sugarplum.” And for the first time in a long while, Harry realized that sometimes, just being real with someone else was the greatest gift of all.

***

The day before Christmas was a blur of lights, music, and the constant hum of holiday energy. For such a manic day, it was a slow one. Harry had stopped counting the hours long ago of his shifts long ago; it was just a matter of getting through the day, but with Y/N by his side, it felt bearable. Their friendship had become a steady constant, something Harry looked forward to in the midst of the holiday madness. They spent their breaks together, talked about everything and nothing, and found little ways to make each other laugh.

But today felt different. There was a quiet tension in the air between them, an unspoken awareness that lingered longer than usual. It was approaching midday on Christmas Eve, the final shift before the big day. The mall was packed, the halls full of families rushing to get those last-minute photos with Santa, children buzzing with excitement. Harry and Y/N had just finished their break and were back on as Jingles and Sugarplum, standing in front of the grotto. They had gotten good at this—good at smiling until their cheeks hurt, good at posing for photos, good at handing out candy canes like it was second nature. But today, something felt… off. Something wasn’t quite as simple as it had been before.

“Last day,” Y/N said, adjusting her costume, the bells twinkling and punctuating her sentence, her tone almost too casual as she looked around at the busy area. “Can y’believe it’s finally Christmas Eve?”

Harry shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It kind of feels like we’ve been doing this forever, doesn’t it? Like, time doesn’t even work anymore.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her eyes scanning the crowd. Then, turning back to Harry, her gaze lingered a moment too long. “You know, I’ve actually really enjoyed this. Not the work, obviously, but… the time we’ve spent together. It’s been…” She hesitated, glancing down at her costume before meeting his eyes again. “Nice. A break from my usual, I guess.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t say it directly, but there was something in her voice that made him wonder if she felt the same way he did.

“I get that,” he said, his voice a little quieter than before. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but I feel like we’ve gotten into this rhythm. You know what I mean?”

She smiled, that familiar, easy smile that made him feel like he was the only one in the room. “Exactly. We’ve somehow survived this madness, and now it’s almost over.”

As they stood there, exchanging glances with the busy families waiting in line, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of… finality. He had been dreading the end of this gig, not because he didn’t want to go back to the conservatoire and his classes after break but because he didn’t want to not see Y/N every day. The idea of her becoming just another friendly face in the crowd of his life was akin to one of Shakespeare’s tragedies to him, he didn’t want that at all.

“You’re right,” he said slowly, “I don’t want it to be over. This... thing we’ve got going on, I mean.”

Y/N paused, her eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion. “What do you mean, ‘this thing’?” 

Fuck, Harry thought as looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious, a rarity for him. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe he was just imagining that there was something between them. But the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way they laughed together, the way he felt this inexplicable pull towards her. 

“This thing where it’s easy to talk t’you. Where we don’t have to pretend with each other,” he said carefully, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest. “Where… I don’t know… I feel like I can be myself at least.”

She blinked, processing his words. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then her lips curled into a slow, thoughtful smile. “I know what you mean,” she said softly. “It’s like… we don’t have to be perfect all the time, right? Like, we can just… be. Together.”

The way she said the word “together” sent a small shiver down Harry’s spine. He could feel the air between them shift, and suddenly, he wasn’t sure if it was just the holiday magic, or something more. Something deeper.

He took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to her. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud wail from a child pierced the air, cutting through the moment like a knife. The child, no older than six, was tugging at her mother’s sleeve, refusing to get anywhere near the front door of the grotto where on the other side she’d meet Santa. Her voice was a screech of fear almost, desperate to leave.

Harry and Y/N immediately snapped back into their roles, the brief, intimate moment forgotten in an instant. It was as though the world had snapped back into its chaotic rhythm. Harry plastered on his best elf smile and turned to the mother, ready to jump back into character.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, though his mind was still racing with the things he had almost said to Y/N.

Y/N, ever the professional, was immediately by Harry’s side, kneeling down to the little girls height. “Hey there sweetness, I’m Sugarplum and this is my pal Jingles,” she said in a gentle, soothing voice nodding to Harry who waved at the shy little girl. “Y’know, Santa’s not so bad. Look, we’re elves and have worked with the big man for forever, and we think he’s pretty cool, isn’t that right Jingles?” 

The little girl sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve of her little red coat, before glancing up at Y/N and Harry with watery eyes. “Really?”

“Absolutely!” Harry said with a wink, before he too knelt down to the girls’ level, his voice bright and reassuring. “Santa’s just a big teddy bear. In fact he gave me this,” Harry pulled a candy cane from his pocket with a flourish, “t’give to you before we go in and see him!”

The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment, before nodding slowly reaching out to wrap her fingers around the candy cane Harry held out to her, “Okay…”

As the little girl settled, Harry couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N. She had a way with the kids who were a little scared or nervous, a warmth that made him admire her even more. She always knew exactly what to say, always had the right level of energy to make them feel better. It was something he’d noticed before, but today, it felt like a piece of the larger picture. When the little girl finally took a seat on the stool next to Santa’s chair and was yapping away listing off things she wanted for Christmas as well as things she thinks he should give her baby brother, Harry and Y/N exchanged a smile at a job well done. 

As the rest of the day wore on, the mall’s energy peaked and then began to mellow. The final families arrived, children almost vibrating with excitement at Santa’s imminent arrival, parents frantically snapping photos. In the quiet moments between families, Harry found himself stealing glances at Y/N. She was still the same—cheerful, warm, effortlessly glowing—but there was a new layer between them now, an unspoken understanding.

Finally, as the evening came to a close, the last group of families having exited with their pictures in hand. Santa waving a big goodbye to any straggler groups citing that he had a long night ahead of him and had to go see Mrs Claus before he set off on his journey around the world. Harry and Y/N were left alone in the grotto, it was just the two of them now, standing in the glow of the Christmas lights, the last traces of holiday music playing softly in the background.

Y/N turned to Harry, her eyes locking with his. “I guess this is it,” she said softly, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, his heart beating just a little faster. “It’s weird. I kind of thought it would feel like a relief when it was over, but… now it’s here, it feels… wrong, somehow.”

Y/N smiled softly, stepping a little closer to him. “It’s not over, Harry. It’s just… different now.”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope so.”

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they both leaned in, just inches apart. The air between them was charged, the magic of Christmas, the long month and a half of working side by side, and the undeniable pull they felt toward each other all converging in that one perfect instant.

Before Harry could think too much about it, Y/N closed the small gap, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft, tentative, but filled with something deeper—something neither of them could deny any longer.

The moment held, timeless and sweet, as they finally gave in to the feelings that had been building between them, and as they pulled back, breathing in the shared warmth of the kiss, it was clear to both of them: this was only the beginning.

“D’you think we can go get changed now? I never want to see or feel another pair of fucking tights anywhere near my legs for a long, long time,” Harry said as Y/N burst into fitful giggles her face slumping against his shoulder as she laughed

***

They had swapped numbers early on in their job, Harry’s suggestion since they were paired together in case one of the two were to be poorly or running late but had never used those numbers. As much as Harry’s fingers twitched to do so. 

They separated outside the mall after their kiss, both rushing off to get to their families to spend Christmas Day with them. Christmas morning came with a quiet calm. Y/N had expected to wake up feeling exhausted, her muscles sore from the constant running around, the endless hours of standing in character, smiling for the camera, but instead, she woke up in her bedroom at her Mum’s house… on edge. Like something had shifted, and now the world around her seemed to have rearranged itself, in ways she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for.

She also woke up to a text and her heart took off running. 

Harry 🧝‍��️ 🎄 : Merry Christmas Sugarplum!! Hope your day is as magic as you are xx

Fucking hell, he sent kisses, KISSES… Should she send kisses back, never mind the kisses she needs to type the actual text first.

Y/N: and a merry christmas to you jingles. have a lovely day with your family Harry xx

He sent two kisses so she sent two kisses, that seemed a safe bet. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: When are you back in the city? Xxx

THREE KISSES!

Y/N:  i’m back on the 28th, you? :) xxx

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: Crazy, me too! I’m going to hope you don’t have New Years plans yet and wanted to ask if you wanted to do something with me? Ring in the new year together? Xxx 

A second text came in before Y/N even managed to process what the first one had said. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: Plus I’m not going to lie, going from seeing you and spending all day every day with you to not seeing you at all today is shit and I’ve decided I hate it xxx 

Y/N:  yes!!! let’s do it, i didn’t have any plans anyway so absolutely want to spend it with you xxx 

Y/N:  p.s i hate it too :( xxx 

***

They had met outside the tube station, a warm embrace on the pavement as a greeting as they began their walk to find a spot on Primrose Hill for the night, filling each other in on what they had been up to on Christmas Day and the days since. They had both booked a few auditions for the first few weeks of January and Y/N had decided she was changing her life in the New Year and had done a massive clear out and deep clean of her flat. And Harry? Well, he’d came home from his Mum’s with a pet cat in tow, one his Mum had recently been fostering and Harry fell in love within the space of a few hours. He’d called her Jingles. 

They found a spot on Primrose Hill, both of them unpacking the bags they had brought with them. A picnic blanket each they layered on top of each other to shield their bums from the cold ground. A flask of soup and a flask of tea to keep them warm as well as some snacks and tinned cocktails to see them through the night to the bells. Harry also had a half-sized bottle of champagne tucked in his bag for them to pop at midnight. 

They spent their evening wrapped up in each other in their own little bubble getting to know one another more than they already did and as Midnight came and fireworks began to pop and sizzle in the sky and people around them waved glittering sparklers around and the nearest church bells rang signifying a new hour and a new year Harry kissed Y/N again, this time with more certainty, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the joy of being with someone who understood her completely. For the first time, in what felt like forever, Y/N realized she didn’t need anything else.

They had everything right here and they thought that was pretty magical.

[shatcey]

Wreck the halls (Victor)

A few screenshots with my thoughts on this. Both endings and an epilogue.

But first... non related to Vivi.

I just realized… If he helped Victor last year… this means that she and Jude joined the Crown at least a year ago…

It's even more cute than I understood in Japanese. Sweet, teasing, and a little reproachful. "Alfons, you're such a naughty boy!" Don't flirt in front of me! I'm jealous… I haven't decided which part though…

And one joke about Vivi

We're not so sure about that, honey… Maybe he is…

And now about Vivi… a lot of speculations.

Are you teasing or expressing a suppressed desire?

Even in his thoughts, he referred to himself in quotation marks. It's like Victor is a role, not a real person.

And the feeling that Victor isn't his real name is becoming more and more obvious.

So… Has he made a deal with Death and won't be released until Death decides he's no longer needed? But the latter indicates that he is actually Death itself. I… remember only one mention of Death as a real person. In Terry Pratchett's Discworld. In fact, I love Death in these stories. But it's a pretty new story even so Sir Terry is also based on fairy tales…

And this part from BE is actually a very strong one. Do not forget… Kate is very good at understanding people and situations. She… another girl with an innate talent for psychology (Mai the first).

Again… God. The God of death. But the contract and be binded to it… suggests that he wasn't like that from the beginning…

In the same scene from the his POV (PE)

I LOVE how complicated and beautiful his thinking is. It's not as lacy as Ally's way of talking, but it's a different type of complexity. AND I ADORE IT!

But back to the meaning…

He feels that Kate is enchanted by the darkness, but he wants her not to follow this desire. Where was it? I think on Willy's route, he mentioned that Kate has always been fascinated by the darkness. Maybe she did. It really feels like fate.

And the second part already looks like a puzzle. First he talks like he's death itself, and now he's darkness itself. It's not the same thing. In Sir Terry's books, Death has a pretty ordinary job. He didn't judge, he didn't change anything. Each person had an hourglass that showed when they were supposed to die. And he came and took their souls. Nothing else. In my opinion, it's a pretty boring job, everything is so predictable. If he wouldn't meet Rincewind… But… This is a completely different story.

So… Darkness suggests that there is light. The light in this game is usually associated with pure souls who don't do evil. Most of the ordinary residents of London.

And darkness is someone who commits evil deeds, regardless of the reason. And this means that they live in completely different worlds that cannot be mixed. So he thought he didn't want to stain her… This means that he was afraid that he would affect her pure white soul so much that she would become as black as his.

And in the epilogue…

So… on Vivi's route, we should expect something like a confrontation between our sweet straightforward (and, in my opinion, extremely white) fox and Vivi. And the last line already sounds like a love rivalry. After Dark IF event, it is quite difficult not to see this in Harry… And I was hoping for Willy's help… I still hopping. And now I'm almost sure that Harry will interfere… So much drama! Ally, prepare jokes!

Besides, Vivi thinks this dark part of his…

And again… He used death and darkness side by side. But, in my opinion, death is either just a stage of life, or a job, an absolutely normal job. How it became bad or dark… beyond my comprehension.

And here he hints that his real personality is not what everyone used to think. I like his real personality! Greedy, manipulative, calculating, controlling, and… absolutely overwhelming. What's not to like?

But like I said when I was thinking out loud about Jude's story in the Dark IF event. That story was written a year ago, and Vivi's route was just a draft back then. But judging by how many hints they've given us, they already have pretty clear ideas about who he is and how they plan to use that information.

In addition… I LOVE this snow animation! It's so simple, but so beautiful. And it has two layers… in front of and behind the character. Such a nice touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[celestialseawitch-ff]

🌹🌹

The trees broke as they entered into a clearing. 

“We need to disrobe.”

Hermione's head shot up.

“There's a hot springs over there. We're going to cleanse ourselves first. When we return, I'll summon the goddess and bring you into the circle. I'll cut my hand and then yours and bring you into the ritual circle.”

They reached the springs and Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

“It'll be overwhelming,” he explained gently. “Especially because you have no experience with family magic.”

“And that's it?”

“... and then we have sex.”

“Out here? What if someone sees us?”

He released a shocked bark of laughter. “That's your main objection? Hermione, this is private Black property. Only I have access. Once we complete the ritual, only the two of us.”

She felt her cheeks burn hot as she stared at Sirius and he stared back.

“I know this is… a lot. I'm sorry, for whatever it's worth.”

She released a harsh breath. “It's fine. I am… agreeing. I understand the benefits, although not all of them, I trust you wouldn't ask me to do this if it wasn't necessary.”

“It is.”

“I know. And for whatever it's worth, you don't need to look so guilt stricken. I'm not some blushing virgin.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. He lifted a finger to trail across the apple of her cheek. “You sure about that, love? You're blushing awfully hard.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “I dated an international quidditch player, do you think I'm a virgin?”

Sirius threw his head back as he laughed. “Oh, Remus owes me a galleon.”

Her eyes widened. “Sirius!”

“I knew. I said I could smell it on you, but he didn't believe me.”

“Sirius,” she hissed, scandalised and a little disturbed to learn he could smell sex on her.

“‘No, Hermione is a good girl. She would never with an older student,’” Sirius said in a mocking tone of voice. He smiled sharply at her. “Atta girl.”

Hermione huffed as she looked away, refusing to give away the amused, happy feeling in her chest. She hadn't told a soul beyond Harry about it, too worried about the judgement from her peers. 

“Anyway,” she said and looked to the springs. “I suppose we should start?” 

“Last chance to back out.”

She sighed. “We're going to have to have sex regardless, aren't we?”

“It's in my marriage contract.”

She sighed and shrugged. “Well, show me ritual magic then, Sirius Black.”

Sirius stepped up to her and slowly moved to take her arms. He pulled them from where they sat across her chest. He slowly began to undo the buttons on her cardigan. 

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. “Is this a part of it?”

“Traditionally.”

“I didn't realise you were so traditional,” she replied, breathless.

He grinned at her as he slid her jumper off her shoulders. He knelt down as he set it on the floor of the grass. His eyes never left her own as he knelt at her feet. A smirk touched his lips as he said, “only the good ones.”

Hermione swallowed visibly.

[eris-eveningstar]

The Betrothal Contract (Fic Snippet)

New fic dropped!! It's coming out soon. It's gonna be short, only 6 chapters. This snippet is from chapter 2.

─── ⬥ • ⬩🐍⬩ • ⬥ ───

From the very beginning, Harry Potter held his soul in his hands and wouldn't let go. Perhaps at first, Tom didn't know what he felt. He and Harry were roughly the same age, with Tom just a bit older, and they grew up together. Early on in their friendship, Harry was Tom's lackey that always followed him around, starry-eyed with wonder and affection. He could sometimes be a nuisance, yet he also occasionally had good ideas. That's why Tom kept him around, he told himself back then.

And then they grew older. Harry spoke against him, he grew a spine. No one else ever did that, including his own parents. His father let him do whatever he wanted, within reason, and his mother often deferred to his father. No one had ever said no to him, except for Harry.

It angered him at first, yet...there was something in Harry's gaze. His emerald eyes glared fiercely at him with a scowl twisting Harry's pretty face, and it was that thought that struck Tom.

When did he begin thinking that Harry was pretty? He wasn't sure, but from then on, those thoughts wouldn't stop.

Harry's shining eyes, his endearingly messy hair and his sheepish grin, his ferocity and terribly naive goodness, even all his moods and ocassional hissy fits—all of it, it made Tom want to claim him. He wanted every part of Harry.

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in February & March

18 fics and ~720k (!!!) total. Includes fics from the following fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Kung Fu Panda

Pornstar Martini by blatantblue/@blatantblue and brightened Hazbin Hotel | Angel Dust/Husk | 5k | Mature | Part 1 of Pornstar Martini

Naturally, Husk’s kindness goes straight to Angel’s head. This is why he doesn’t do heroin — you try that shit once, you always want it. You may never take it again, but you’ll carry the gaping-aching hole in your chest until the end of your days. Or the end of eternity. Angel never needed aftercare before; he puts the blame squarely on Husk’s huggable shoulders.

Sour Dove by blatantblue/@blatantblue Hazbin Hotel | Angel Dust/Husk | 6k | Explicit | Part 2 of Pornstar Martini

“What do you need?” Husk asks again, hand in Angel’s hair, always in Angel’s hair. Angel needs to feel something that’s his and only his. He needs to know there’s a part of him, a pathetic inch, when he doesn’t yet end and Valentino doesn’t yet begin. He needs a lie. “Put me on my knees.” Husk doesn’t even flinch. “You know I’m not gonna do that, baby.” Angel and Husk get as close as they can without breaking each other.

Call Your Bluff by RazzAppleMagic/@razzapplemagic Hazbin Hotel | Angel Dust/Husk | 72k (WIP) | Explicit

Val may be a fucking monster, but he’s a monster that Angel knows. He’s a monster that Angel understands. Angel isn’t stupid; he made the choice to sign with Valentino because he was the only overlord that made sense for Angel’s lifestyle — for what Angel wanted out of Hell. But now you’re tellin’ him that his soul is owed to some random fucking jackass who swindled Val in a game of cards? How can that be fair? How can that be something that’s just allowed to happen? (In which, Angel's contract is acquired by a new overlord — Hell's very own Gambling Demon, and they both get more from the relationship than either of them bargained for.)

snipers solve 99% of all problems by silentwalrus/@silentwalrus1 Fullmetal Alchemist | Gen | 260k (WIP) | Mature

Ed had thought, after the whole Promised Day, homunculus, entire country harvested for alchemical batteries thing, the batshit quotient of his life would have settled down some. He really ought to have topped out the meter with that one. But no. The bullshit is just getting started. “Are you fucking kidding me,” Ed demands. “The wizards?”

Call Sign: Morning Star by blatantblue/@blatantblue Hazbin Hotel | Alastor/Lucifer Morningstar | 7k | Explicit

“You,” Alastor says slowly, “came up here to proposition me?” Lucifer shrugs. “And if I did?” Joy and the thrill of friendship are not on Alastor’s frequency, and neither is Lucifer. But it may be their last night in Hell; in the circumstances, Lucifer’s mouth on him is infinitely less of a terrible idea.

You're in MY House, Bitch by brightened Hazbin Hotel | Adam/Lucifer Morningstar | 3k | Explicit

“Is this what you’ve been up to?” Adam asks. “A rubber duck orgy?” Lucifer gasps, reaching for the nearest duck and clutching it to his chest. “How dare you! I’ve never fornicated with any of my ducks. In fact … I haven’t fornicated since Lilith.” Lucifer drops the duck in favor of drumming both hands on his chest. “Well, that’s embarrassing. Why am I saying this to you?” Lucifer propositions Adam. Not in that way! But also, yes in that way.

Dusk Till Dawn by Novaeris Helluva Boss | Blitzø/Stolas | 13k | Mature

When Blitzø gets drugged and kidnapped by an imp gang, he has to fight tooth and nail to make it out with his life. When his injuries prove to be a bit too much for him to handle, he sucks up his pride and goes to ask Stolas for help. Normally, not a big deal. Except this time, he hasn’t spoken to the guy since their shitty first date at Ozzie’s. And when one of his wounds gives Blitzø a nasty fever, he finds himself revealing a lot more than he intended. A post ep 7 fic with a lot of Blitzø whump and Stolas finally learning where the lines of communication had broken down between them.

Far From Heaven by Novaeris Helluva Boss | Blitzø/Stolas | 45k | Explicit

After their disastrous first date, Blitzo and Stolas struggle to pick themselves back up again in the aftermath. It takes many small steps before they can finally be honest, with themselves and with each other. Blitzo learns to tell the truth. And Stolas learns that, sometimes, things aren’t as hopeless as they appear. A study of Blitzo and a study of Stolas as they fall apart and then come back together after ep 7.

Palaces and Souvenirs by CloudySonder/@cloudysonder Helluva Boss | Blitzø/Stolas | 14k (WIP) | Mature

So Stolas is objectively. Objectively. Attractive. Kinda soft-looking, sometimes. Pretty. Whatever. Fuckin’ whatever. That’s always been a thing. Blitzo knew that, Stolas definitely knew that-- whatever. This is not, Blitzo thinks, sounding a little bit desperate even to himself, some sort of revelation. the lack of Slow-Burn Friends-With-Benefits to Lovers with Octavia & Blitzo Bonding as a Sideplot content in the stolitz community is Appalling, so i am merely fulfilling a demand in the market

"Red." by QUINADEN Helluva Boss | Blitzø/Stolas | 10k | Explicit

Another full moon, another sexual rendevous. But when Stolas suggests that he return the favor for once, Blitz has to confront the fact that giving over even more control of the situation might be the scariest compromise he’s ever had to make.

At Your Service by QUINADEN Helluva Boss | Blitzø/Stolas | 14k (WIP) | Mature

When Blitz was 10, his family sold him to the Ars Goetia family, believing that he’d have a far better life than he ever would in the circus business given his lack of general talent and skill. With his soul forever bound by contract, he has one job and one job only: to serve Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia. Part of that duty eventually became having a nearly two-decades-long affair with the prince. But when their secret is discovered by Andrelphus, who threatens to expose them both to the Goetia family, just how far will Blitzø be willing to go in order to protect Stolas, and, by extension, his own life?

The Devil Is My Shepherd by QUINADEN Helluva Boss | Blitzø/Stolas | 28k (WIP) | Mature

No longer able to live in the comfort of the home and property he owned for decades, Blitzo has now moved in (at least temporarily) with Stolas while he recovers from his injuries sustained at the hands of the local Catholic congregation. No one said adjusting to an entirely new life in Hell would be easy, but between Stolas' daughter going through the motions of her parents separating, his new friends planning their wedding, a manager who is both younger and far braver than he is, and Stolas himself, it's been difficult, to say the least. Grappling with a brand new lifestyle and world without the comfort of the deity his parents raised him to embrace, things are certainly going to be rough. He's already been dragged down into the depth of Hell, though: how much worse could it get?

Traces of Spring by nehezt/@nehezt Kung Fu Panda | Gen | Mature

While investigating a strange phenomenon, Po inadvertently brings Tai Lung back from the Spirit Realm. Forced to live again, Tai Lung must grapple with his place in the world and the feelings that led to his attack on the Valley of Peace.

Competition by astolat/@astolat Game of Thrones | Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth | 11k | Mature

Almost the instant Brienne was out of earshot, Bronn turned to Podrick, jerked his head towards Jaime and asked, “Has he fucked her yet?”

Words by astolat/@astolat Game of Thrones | Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth | 10k | Explicit

“So we’ll look for you in the North," Robb Stark said, "coming to pay your debt."

Let The River Run by astolat/@astolat Game of Thrones | Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth/Robb Stark | 61k | Explicit

The deep satisfaction of having made the right choice; of having found a clear-flowing wellspring of true honor to protect.

Royal Flush by astolat/@astolat Game of Thrones | Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth/Margaery Tyrell | 85k | Explicit

Robb Stark had swept his entire hand of cards off the table, and Tyrion couldn’t see how to make a single play at all.

Winter's Crown by astolat/@astolat Game of Thrones | Jaime Lannister/Robb Stark | 76k | Explicit

“When the Night’s King rides,” the giant said, each word slow as cold honey pouring, “the King in the North must answer. The King in the North…whose name is Stark.”

[obsidianpen]

okay my turn:

harry is drained and sleeping, periodically being made to drink the elixir of life. it heals the damage to his soul from voldemort after a while (yellow/golden heart). harry realises something to do with a contract, which i can only assume is the whole dark mark/green eyes deal? so maybe voldemort drained harry while he was sleeping without consent and now how to give him his eyes back?

A so-so analysis, but I’m no longer taking guesses!!! Because inevitably someone might get it totally right

[loviestyless]

Bloodied Shadows*

summary: when harry is looking for inspiration for his next novel, he stumbles across a house with a sinister past and well, you know what they say - curiosity killed the cat.

inspired by american horror story’s murder house

warnings: themes of horror, blood, violence, murder, smut: mxm pairing, choking, hand job, sub!harry

i wrote this for halloween last year and really loved writing something darker than i usually do so felt like sharing it here too. Hope you enjoy!

The misty moors of the English countryside rolled past the window in an endless sea of autumnal browns against the dark grey sky looming above. A distant chill clawed against the taxi window, threatening to clasp its grip around the curious man watching the world go by. There was not a single soul around except for the silent man in the driver's seat - the promise of solitude growing ever closer the further out of town they ventured.

A deep sigh breathed past Harry's lips as he ran his ringed fingers through his unruly curls, phone pressed against his ear as he reluctantly listened to his manager reminding him of the clauses in the contract he'd signed last year.

"We agreed you'll have the first draft on my desk by the end of this month and you've decided to take a little trip out of town?" Keith's unimpressed voice filtered through the phone, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "You don't have time for dirty weekends away with your girlfriend, Harry."

The man forced himself to bite back the scoff threatening to rumble from the back of his throat at his manager's words, knowing it would do nothing to get him back in Keith's good graces. Glancing at the empty seat next to him, Harry forced himself to find the humour in his manager's assumption to avoid the overwhelming stress of knocking out the first few chapters of his novel overnight. If Keith had bothered to check his emails, he would have known Harry was using this escape to the countryside to search for inspiration. It was purely work related and he was fairly confident that by the end of the night, he'd have a solid plan to break through this current bout of writer's block.

"I promise, first thing tomorrow morning the draft will be in your inbox." He grumbled; his tone almost bored as Keith continued to rattle on without even acknowledging what Harry had said.

"If you needed extra time, you should have told me sooner. Maybe then I could've negotiated something with your publisher. I can't work miracles, Harry. This only works if you communicate-"

A dull tone cut off Keith in the middle of his lecture and with a quick glance at his screen, Harry quickly discovered there was no longer any signal.

Outside, the stretches of rolling fields had changed into one singular stretch of road surrounded by the confinement of a never-ending line of decayed trees shedding their orange leaves. Harry supposed it was a blessing being so isolated from the outside world, he could focus on meeting his deadline without the constant distraction of his phone ringing every five minutes.

The screeching of the car's brakes caught the writer's attention as they slowed to a complete stop in the middle of nowhere. A frown creased his brows as he peered out the window at the stretch of misty grey land outside, wondering what had caused such an unexpected stop in their journey. The google maps tab open on Harry's phone said he was still ten minutes from his intended destination.

"This is where the road ends, you'll have to go the rest of the way by foot."

"Y'know, this is like every stereotype in every horror movie ever made, right?" Harry scoffed rudely, folding his arms across his chest as he threw the driver an unimpressed stare in the rear-view mirror. He'd heard the rumours about where he was going but they were so ridiculous he didn't expect anyone to actually believe them. "Let me guess, you're about to warn me I'm in grave danger and it's not too late to turn back."

"Selly House is no joke, mate. Every unsolved murder in the area has been linked to that place, nobody that goes in comes out alive." The driver warned, genuine fear present in his gaze as he took in the scepticism lacing Harry's features.

"Yeah whatever." The writer sighed, knowing there was no use trying to argue. He'd seen enough horror films to know he'd end up flat on his ass in the middle of the road with his bags at his feet while the driver sped off in the opposite direction as fast as he could. "How much do I owe you?"

Minutes later, Harry was pulling his puffer jacket tighter around his body as the cold threatened to steal the air right from his lungs while he continued to sort out his bags the driver had dumped on the floor. The rumble of an engine speeding away echoed in the distance, mingling with the sharp cries of the crows flying overhead. If Harry was the type to read into things, he would be unnerved by the lack of civilization around him, but luckily this was the exact kind of solitude he was seeking for his novel.

Already his mind was running havoc with ideas simply from his surroundings, and his shoulders loosened with relief as he felt ready to start writing. Weeks of staring at an empty notebook had left him drained, pushing him further into a slump that had him convinced his whole career was a mistake - that the success of his previous novel had been a fluke.

But the fresh air biting at his skin, causing his cheeks to flush pink, snapped him back into reality. Made his creativity come alive again. And this was before he'd even stepped a foot past the threshold of the infamous murder house that lay dormant a couple of miles down the road.

When researching potential places that could inspire a dark storyline for his latest thriller, Selly House had popped up on Google too many times for the writer to ignore. Spending an entire evening delving into the history of the house led Harry down a path seeped in murder, unsolved crimes and mysterious disappearances. Centuries of ghost stories, rumours of shadows dancing in the dark and whispers of temptation drawing unsuspecting guests through the doors lit the flame of curiosity in Harry's mind.

He had never believed in ghosts, ghouls and so-called unexplainable events. Horror movies were predictable and Halloween was just another excuse for retail companies to make a shit tonne of money. It was an ironic mindset for someone who had spent the past year making money off writing a chilling horror novel but it was something he was good at even if he felt it was all a bunch of nonsense. Anything to pay the bills...

Naturally, once the writer had heard the stories, read the newspaper reports, he was intrigued. He needed to know what elements of this house sparked such fear in the local community and made it so famous. Once he discovered the roots of these childish ghost tales that haunted the town of Selly, Harry had the perfect setting for his own novel.

And what better time to get a feel of the place than Halloween night.

His plan was fool proof. Nobody dared go within five miles of the house so he would be able to sneak in undetected, nose about the decrepit ruins for a bit before settling down by the dim light of his torch to spend all night completing a draft of the first few chapters. It would be silent and he could finally get some work done without his phone constantly ringing, demanding his attention.

Heaving his backpack over his shoulder, Harry let out a quiet sigh as he began trudging his way down the road in the direction google maps pointed him. He scoffed to himself as he noticed the road he was currently on led directly up to the driveway of the house with no sign of it abruptly ending like the driver had implied.

Not a single soul was around, all that accompanied Harry on his walk were the echoes of his own footsteps and the crows squawking up above, seemingly following him in his journey. Misty rain was suddenly upon the man, dampening his curls and making him pull the hood of his jumper over his head to protect himself from the weather.

"Fucking English weather." He grumbled to himself, wiping his phone screen against his jeans in an attempt to clear the little drops of water making it difficult to see the map.

Bringing it back out in front of him, the screen was completely black. Tapping it gently, the writer hoped to wake it back up again but was left staring at his own reflection on the blank screen. Rolling his eyes, he tried pressing the side button but had no success.

If he hadn't had a full battery upon stepping out the taxi, he would've assumed his phone was just dead. But there was nothing to explain why it had suddenly stopped working.

Cursing to himself he angrily shoved the useless device back into his coat pocket, hoping he'd be able to fix it once he got to his destination. However, in his own arrogance when looking into the house, he'd failed to note the accounts of all modern technology suddenly rendered useless around the house.

With nothing but his own company, Harry began to hum to himself, hoping to pass the boring walk a little quicker. The shadow of a tall, gothic building loomed prominent against the deep grey sky, serving as a guide for Harry to follow. Even from a distance it wasn't hard to recognise what struck such fear among those in the area.

Despite spending almost half a century abandoned, Selly House looked just as new as it had the day the building had been completed. There were no signs of disrepair, no overgrown ivy snaking up the stone walls and the front gardens were all properly cared for. The sight alone made Harry stop dead in his tracks, confusion knitting his brows together as he muttered his thoughts under his breath.

Surely this was the right place?

Glancing behind him briefly, the man tried to gauge his surroundings. It made no sense.

There was not a single soul that would dare enter the grounds of Selly House, not since the gruesome murder-suicide that had taken place fifty years ago on this exact date. After decades of murders and disappearances linked to those who lived in the house, the deaths of Ethel and Rowan Montague had shaken the community so deeply that the town council had agreed to never let the house be put back up for sale again.

In that time, you would expect the outside to at least appear a little weathered, especially with the number of storms this part of the countryside faced.

A crow squawked above, feathers fluttering as it swooped close enough to Harry to make him flinch before landing atop the iron gates. Its yellow eyes stared at him, unmoving as if waiting for Harry to take another step forward. Daring him to enter the grounds.

The writer shook his head, snickering to himself slightly at how cliche this all seemed and the fact he had for a split second briefly entertained the idea of turning back around.

He was getting too inside his head about this, it was a house that had an infamous past - of course it was going to be a little unnerving. But he knew that when planning this trip. He wasn't coming for a relaxing weekend away; he was coming to be scared. For the house to prove itself to him so could use that material for his own personal gain.

Suck it up, buttercup.

Taking a deep breath in, Harry willed himself forward, up to the gates and over threshold. He almost laughed when nothing happened, no voices emerged from the shadows, no brutal murderers ran at him with a bloody axe. He was fucking fine. In fact, he was almost bored by the lack of excitement.

All those stories warning him not to come here, all those tales of gruesome incidents and the only demon to greet him was his own imagination running away with him. Kind of pathetic when you think about it.

Now that he stood in the middle of the driveway, Harry could properly take in the details of his surroundings.

The front garden itself was split between both sides of the cobbled driveway leading directly to the house. A fresh lawn on either side carried tiny droplets of dew from the unpleasant weather, lined by borders of neatly trimmed back hedges going slightly orange with the changing seasons. It was simple but upheld the elegance of the plot of land - emphasised by the grandeur of the house looming like a shadow in the dark. The exterior looked like it had stepped straight out of a Victorian gothic novel with pointed arch windows, a steeply pitched roof and made from dark grey stone. If someone would have told Harry this was the place Dracula had lived, he would have believed them.

Harry's mind had become a wildfire of inspiration, sparked alight by the hundreds of avenues that he could take his novel. Any inkling of doubt Harry had about this place had evaporated into thin air, leaving a level of curious excitement in its wake.

Wasting no time, Harry hurried up the stretching driveway, his eyes flitting about the expanse of land in a desperate attempt to commit every tiny detail to memory. That was until he was struck speechless by the line of stone statues guarding the front of the house - seven gothic angels, their bodies and facial features contorted in various states of pain, each one more severe than the last as if depicting a story. Or perhaps serving as a warning. A warning of what might happen if one dared to venture further.

Whatever the meaning, Harry was captivated. They were the only parts of the house that appeared to age with speckles of moss clinging to the podiums and chipped elements only seeming to add to the decay each angel held within themselves.

The wooden porch creaked under Harry's step as he approached the front doors and he was just about to turn the doorknob to enter when he became aware of a weird cracking sound echoing in the still silence smothering the surrounding land. Clearing his throat, Harry slowly turned to look behind him with a frown. His heart skipped a beat as he was suddenly faced with all seven angels staring directly at him, their tortured expressions now directed in his direction as if he was the one inflicting such suffering upon them.

They hadn't been looking this way before. Harry knew that for certain. The writer swallowed thickly as he willed his racing heart to calm down. It was just an overused trick he'd seen in horror movies - similar to those paintings with eyes that seemed to follow you across the room. His creative mind was running away with him, that's all.

Suck it up, buttercup. Just a little closer...

"You must be losing your damn mind." He muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly in disbelief that he was allowing himself to grow so unsettled when he didn't believe in the supernatural. It was all bullshit, he had allowed the rumours of the house to run rampant in his mind, causing logic to get entangled with fictional fantasies. "Get a hold of yourself."

Rusted hinges creaked loudly as Harry finally pushed the oak front door open, the stale, musky scent of the house hit him almost immediately and made him cough a little as it caught him by surprise. Even though the house hadn't fallen into disrepair in the decades it had remained empty, the entire place felt as if it was frozen in time with the interior design steeped in grand decor of the early nineteen-hundreds.

Harry couldn't help but gape in awe at what surrounded him: velvet wallpaper, crystal chandeliers, golden trims and polished mahogany floors. It was as if he had stepped onto the set of a costume drama and he could feel himself growing impatient to start exploring. Judging by the size of the place, he could easily spend all night nosing about the numerous rooms instead of writing but he couldn't allow himself to forget the reason he came here.

Darkness had closed in around the house by the time Harry had finished searching for inspiration around the house and was feeling more than ready to churn out a couple of chapters. However, he was a little disappointed he had found nothing out of the ordinary in his search. No headless bodies in the kitchen, no ghosts creeping down the hallways, no bloody handprints smeared along the windows. All there had been half melted candles, family paintings, children's toys and moth-eaten clothes.

It had been a little disappointing but Harry had expected it. He knew the stories were made up, exaggerated over time to scare kids at night to stop them from getting too curious.

But at least his brain was almost bursting with new story ideas.

It had been an hour since he'd set up camp in the old library upstairs with his camping lantern as the only source of light in the gloomy room. The desk had a thick layer of dust covering it but it didn't bother Harry, it only served to create a more gothic atmosphere surrounded by all the shelves of leather-bound books as he frantically scribbled his thoughts down on paper.

Time seemed to pass differently in the house, slipping out of Harry's grasp before he knew it as he allowed himself to be entirely consumed by his work. Every glance at his watch would give him a different time, sometimes ten minutes would have passed since he'd last looked, other times it would have been hours. The only constant he knew was the night sky barely visible through the fogged-up library window.

The glass panels rattled slightly as the wind picked up outside, whistling through the slight gaps in the window panes. With the weather picking up, Harry knew to expect some strange noises to echo about the place as it was expected for things to go bump in older houses such as this one.

What he didn't expect was for the simultaneous slamming of all the upstairs doors to shake the house the way it did, causing him to jump out of his skin and make his heart start pounding in his chest. Dropping his pen in the desk, Harry's head whipped around to look behind him, his hands shaking slightly as adrenaline started to course through his bloodstream.

A small draught flowing through the house couldn't have made such a noise. But Harry refused to let it rattle his nerves. He knew there was a reasonable explanation for everything and it was possible there could be undiscovered disrepair where the wind was entering from.

Another rumble reverberated deep within one of the bedrooms and Harry couldn't ignore the voice in the back of his mind calling for him to check it out. It sounded like something had fallen over and the last thing he wanted was to be blamed for wrecking the place when he'd been minding his own business the whole night.

His legs felt heavy as he hoisted himself out of the library chair, clutching his lantern in his clammy hand as he forced every step forward and out of the room. Heavy, anxious breaths rattled in his chest as he gave in to the fear stroking its claws at his brain, a rising nausea settling as an uncomfortable lump in the back of his throat.

The hallway was steeped in shadows crawling through every crack and crevice waiting to pounce on Harry when he least expected it. The little light from his lantern did little to protect him from the monsters lurking around every corner, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

Floorboards creaked underfoot as he peeked down the hallway, making Harry shut his eyes briefly to steady his nerves. His chest rose and fell as he made a conscious effort to slow his breathing, a hand placed lightly over his chest to feel when his heartbeat had slowed back to normal. Everything was fine and just as he'd last seen it. All that had changed were the bedroom doors were now closed.

He was still alone. Alone...

He was fine. He was safe. And he was alone.

Any resolve he'd managed to tackle over his emotions went flying out the back of his mind the moment his eyes fluttered back open only to be met with his own green orbs staring back at him from the other end of the dark hallway. But they weren't his. They were an exact copy, darkened with something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.

A sinister smirk glinted in the limited flecks of light reaching that far, making a chill run-down Harry's spine. Shadows obscured the figure's face but Harry had looked in the mirror enough times over the years to recognise his reflection when he saw it.

What the fuck was going on?

All logic flew out the window as he moved on his own accord, his brain barely processing the movement before Harry was running towards himself - desperate for answers. But his double seemed to predict every move a second before Harry reacted, gliding towards the master bedroom and vanishing into thin air before the writer could catch him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Harry yelled in fear, his words trembling as he frantically threw open the bedroom door after the mysterious figure. Beams of light spilled into the room, illuminating a path for Harry to search for answers. His chest was heaving once more, as the man was on the verge of hyperventilating. "W-what do you want?"

Raising the lantern in his hand, Harry searched high and low in every single corner possible for any sign that what he had just seen was real.

Look at the little lamb, all lost and scared of the dark.

Let me comfort you, come to me buttercup. Let me save you.

Coming up short for an explanation, Harry was left with no choice but to return to the library - notably more shaken than when he'd left.

Goosebumps had risen against his inked skin now that he had been set permanently on edge, his tired mind allowing him to fall into the trap of believing the superstitions every logical part of him fought to disprove. But he had seen himself. He had seen himself walking away and disappearing through a closed door. It wasn't a reflection, there were no mirrors except from in the bathroom.

Wind howled menacingly on outside, whipping the onslaught of rain against the glass window panes. Thick drips leaked through the gaps, soaking into the wallpaper as it streamed down the walls and began to pool on the mahogany desk below. With every passing second, the puddle continued to grow and Harry cursed under his breath as he hurried to salvage the hours of work scribbled on the pages.

Trembling hands scooped up the sodden pages, beams of light fading slightly as the lantern toppled to his feet. It was impossible to see what he was doing as the shadows creeped closer, scraping their talons impatiently along the walls as they waited for their chance to engulf the man at his most vulnerable.

Harry's hands had become soaked with the thick liquid as he struggled to save his things before they were ruined, small drips falling from a crack in the ceiling and sliding down his face from where it landed in his messy curls. A horrid metallic stench suddenly flooded Harry's senses, his nose wrinkling in disgust as it suddenly dawned on him that something wasn't quite right.

Rain water didn't ooze from crevices the way this was and it certainly didn't reek of stale death that made you nauseous. Papers fluttered to the ground as Harry allowed them to slide from his grip, raising his palms in front of his face to confirm what he already suspected.

Crimson blood tainted his pale skin, smeared along his wrists and stained his cheeks as it clung to him like a disease. His stomach lurched as he remained rooted to the spot in horror, more blood pouring in through the ceiling faster than ever. Drenched in blood, Harry could no longer deny that this house wasn't normal - all logical reasoning was disproven before the thoughts even entered his mind. Intense nausea forced him to snap into action, dashing through the long hallway towards the direction of the upstairs bathroom.

Crashing through the door, Harry flung himself to the sink. His shoulders heaved forwards as his body worked to get rid of the contents of his stomach. Blood smeared against the pale porcelain as he gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. Sweat clung to his forehead as shaky breaths rattled his lungs, petrified sobs echoing about the bathroom as Harry felt himself descend into madness.

His eyes flitted up to the cracked mirror, hoping to convince himself that this was all in his head. That somehow this was just one big nightmare and he wasn't here soaked in stranger's blood that rained down from cracks in the roof.

But what he saw was so much worse, rattling him to his very core.

Alongside his own pale features staring back at him, another form approached from the shadows from behind.

A muffled yelp escaped his lips as he whipped around to face the shadow smirking at his fear with amusement. The form stalked closer like a cat watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce and feed from his emotions without a single remorse.

Trapped in place, Harry could feel the edge of the sink digging uncomfortably against his back as tried to keep his distance. Wary eyes never left the figure as it stepped into the beam of moonlight streaming through the tiny window, transforming the menacing shadow into one of the most attractive men Harry had ever seen.

Brown eyes, broad shoulders and slicked back hair stole the breath from Harry's lungs.

"Shhhh...don't fret, buttercup." A silky-smooth voice breezed through the air, making Harry's heart skip a beat as he got wrapped up in the sexual haze wrapping around him. He greeted it willingly, a sense of familiarity within this situation calmed his racing heart and a warm blur fizzled in his mind - making him forget of all the fear the night had instilled deep inside himself. "I'm here now."

Entranced in the man's beauty, Harry's legs moved of their own accord and carried him into the light - close enough for the nameless beauty to brush his index finger over his blood-stained cheek. Brown eyes met green and Harry tumbled willingly into the stranger's spell.

Only, this wasn't a stranger. No, Harry knew this man, had felt this man's passions before. His heart leaped in his chest as a sense of deja vu washed over him like a cool wave on a summer's evening, lips curling upwards as he greeted a long-lost lover.

"Rowan." He whispered into the small space between them, his voice wavering with emotion as he leaned into the man's delicate touch.

"I missed the sound of my name from those pretty lips." Rowan breathed out a chuckle, wasting no time in pressing his lips against Harry's with such passion that he had to grip Harry's waist to keep him from staggering backwards. Hot, frenzied kisses were exchanged, breaths shared and soft moans filled the air as Harry's hands found their way to Rowan's hair, smearing thick blood through the strands as he tugged harshly.

Their bodies were flushed together in a matter of seconds, Rowan's strong form walking Harry backwards so he was pressed against the bathroom counter once more. This time, however, there was not a single inkling of fear present in Harry's mind - completely overshadowed by the whirlwind of lust controlling his every action.

The kiss grew more frenzied, more desperate as Rowan asserted his dominance over his lover with Harry willing to do anything if it meant eliciting more of those delicious moans from the man towering above him. Adventurous hands explored the man's broad shoulders, venturing south to trail down the expanse of Rowan's toned torso over the soft material of his silk shirt.

Harry could feel the amused smirk against the skin of his neck as Rowan's sloppy kisses made his breath catch in the back of his throat, their blown pupils meeting briefly in a shared glance - a silent question of consent present in the slight twitch in Rowan's brows.

"Is this real?" Harry was breathless, fighting through the pleasure lingering in his bloodstream as Rowan's intoxicating presence loosened its grip around his heart a little. Peering up at the man through his lashes had Rowan rolling his head back with a stifled groan.

"You tell me, buttercup." His voice was thick with lust, causing a wave of arousal to rush straight to Harry's cock, half hard in his trousers and begging for attention. "Does this feel real?"

Before Harry knew it, Rowan was pushing his hips roughly against his own so he could feel his bulge, ready and waiting to pleasure him once he was given the green light. A low moan sounded from deep within Harry's chest, the feeling of Rowan's hardness rubbing against his own made his head swim in the most delightful way.

"Y-yes." He panted, flopping his head forward to lean against Rowan's toned chest.

"Then don't overthink it." Rowan purred in Harry's ear, strong hands gripping the side of his hips as he took control again. "Turn around, hands on the counter."

His waist bumped against the porcelain sink as Rowan roughly spun him into the position he wanted, tightly fisting his curls in one hand and yanking them so Harry had no choice but to stare at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked utterly wrecked already and he had barely been touched, crimson blood smeared across his face, lips swollen and pupils blown as he met Rowan's intense stare in their reflection. His lips were painted red from the dark blood that had been transferred from their heated kiss but the blood only turned Harry on more. It promised all the mess and dirty passion he was craving.

Rowan's bloodstained hands slowly snaked their way around Harry's neck, his darkened gaze lapping up every subtle flicker of emotion across Harry's face.

"You gonna let me touch you now?"

Harry's eyes fluttered shut momentarily as he nodded eagerly, a low chuckle from behind making his hips buck against the counter in search of some kind of release. Warm hands cupped his arousal through the material of his trousers, applying just enough pressure to make his head spin.

"Words, buttercup." Rowan's words slipped from his tongue, filled with such lust that Harry couldn't help but let out a quiet moan. His green eyes locked onto the reflection of Rowan's fingers toying with the zipper of his trousers, a devilish smirk across his lips as he purposely took his time to tease Harry.

"Please...fuck me, Rowan." He whined, his palm sliding over Rowan's pleading him to do anything to burst the building bubble of lust that was making him feel crazy. To touch him, to kiss him. To just fucking pleasure him.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he continued to get worked up, his body falling against Rowan's strong body as his hips worked on their own accord, circling with Rowan's gentle teasing to work out some of the tension rolling through his body. Quiet gasps and frantic whimpers filled the air like music to Rowan's ears as he watched Harry grow frustrated at his failed attempts to pleasure himself against his hand.

"What's wrong, puppy?" He taunted, blood red lips pouting against Harry's ear as his sinister stare taunted the man through the mirror. "Pants a little tight?"

"P-please, I'll be good." Harry's words were breathy and light as he grew lightheaded under Rowan's intense stare. The red blood smeared all over his body from where he was pressed up tightly against Harry's writhing body only emphasised his devilish act, turning Harry on to no end as his mind played over a dozen different ways this night might end. "I'll be a good boy for you."

Danger loomed somewhere distant in the back of his mind but it did nothing to scare him. It only made him hornier, more desperate to feel Rowan exert his claim over his body however he wanted.

The bloodied grasp on his neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to add to the intense level of pleasure stole all of Harry's attention. His blown pupils couldn't focus on anything else.

"What do you need me to do, pup? Tell me."

"Anything! Please, just touch me. I need it, I need you!" Close to tears, Harry's eyes fell shut as his head began to swim, too many sensations flowing through his bloodstream to even blurt out exactly what he needed. He'd take anything at this point as long as he got to cum soon. "I'm being good for you, please!"

The only response was Rowan tugging at Harry's curls to snap his attention back to the mirror, a pointed look warning him to do exactly as he was told in order to earn what he was begging for.

"Eyes on me, pup or I stop. Got it?" He purred seductively, wasting no time in finally unzipping Harry's trousers and pulling his hard length out, a bead of precum collecting at the tip in anticipation of Rowan's full attention.

But just as Harry thought he finally thought he was going to finally touch him; Rowan brought his hand up to his lips.

"Spit." He demanded, and Harry obeyed without a single hesitation. "Good boy."

His cock twitched at the praise, instant relief enveloping him as Rowan finally wrapped his hand around Harry's arousal, slowly stroking his length with calculated movements. Pure bliss overtook Harry's features, his brows tugged together in pleasure as his lips parted to let out a loud moan.

"F-fuck." He groaned, his hips thrusting upwards to aid Rowan in his actions, his hands gripping Rowan's hair in a silent plea for him to continue kissing along his jawline. "More."

Rowan didn't have to be told twice, his tongue licking a stripe along the sharp edge of Harry's jawline, savouring the sweet metallic taste of the blood tainting his flushed skin. The muscles in his arm rippled under the flowy material of his shirt as he continued to tug at Harry's length, flicking his wrist ever so slightly to make sure he smeared the blurts of precum along the tip.

Waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed through Harry's entire body, making his legs grow weak enough that Rowan's strong body had to shift slightly in order to keep him standing upright. Heaving chest and sweaty curls, blood began to slide down Harry's forehead again as he felt himself rapidly reaching the edge already.

The grip against his neck tightened even more to the point Harry expected to have bruises where Rowan's fingers dug into his skin but he didn't care. It made his head grow even lighter, pleasure swimming through his brain and made every sensation he felt in the pit of his stomach intensify by the second.

Harder and harder Rowan's hand clamped the tender flesh, restricting the air that tried to enter his lungs. Harry watched as the man's eyes grew impossibly darker, something switching in his demeanour slightly that had his guard flying up. Something was wrong.

His chest felt heavy as he struggled for breath, eyes widening in fear as he noticed Rowan's other hand was no longer pleasing him, instead moving at a rapid speed to lock his arm where he was grabbing at his throat. The muscles in his biceps locked tighter than his hand was able to and cut off the air Harry desperately tried to suck into his lungs.

Panic overloaded his brain where pleasure once blurred his judgement. Adrenaline made his heart race, something that only seemed to urge Rowan on.

"Your heartbeat sings for me, buttercup. Isn't it beautiful?" He whispered darkly, tightening his iron grip even more as Harry's hands clawed desperately for some kind of relief.

Eyes wide and body jolting with fear, frenzied attempts to escape only made Rowan chuckle. His vision began to grow blurry as his brain was deprived of oxygen, tired eyes struggling to stay focused on the reflection of Rowan's sinister shadow overpowering. Any attempt in escaping, he realised, was pointless.

This man wasn't human, he had known that the moment he'd fallen for his intoxicating spell. He'd walked blindly into the trap set out for him since he'd entered the house hours ago. He was going to die here. His name would be added to the long list of victims Selly House had claimed as its own, his own arrogance being the cause of his downfall.

Shhh..buttercup, don't be scared. It's time to return home.

His limbs went still as the darkness creeped in around him, the last few seconds of consciousness slipping from his grasp faster than he could fight back. Before he knew it black consumed him and he gave himself over to Rowan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A cold breeze whipped around Harry as he stood in the middle of the road, the silence of the woods around him providing the peace he needed to collect his thoughts. The decaying petals of old flower arrangements fluttered away, joining the swirls of orange leaves scattered across the floor.

Sad eyes stared at the dead flowers - old memories from loved ones that had moved on with their lives while he remained eternally trapped on the other side, just out of their reach. His mother's handwriting stood prominent on the letter attached to the freshest bouquet, one that appeared at this spot every year to mark the anniversary of her son's passing.

Harry read her heartfelt words over in his mind, clinging on to her hope that he was in a better place.

"I thought I'd find you out here." A gentle voice approached cautiously, making Harry turn to greet his lover with a smile. Rowan stood behind him, brown eyes mirroring Harry's sorrow as he understood the pain flowing through his heart. It had been fifty years since his own passing but it never got easier watching someone like Harry come to terms with their own death - especially one that was so brutal.

Even now, Rowan couldn't look Ethel in the eye. Her jealous rage in seeing her husband fall in love with the innocent man who had stumbled upon the house had triggered a psychotic rage within her. She'd spent hours torturing Harry's mind, making him see disturbing things, chasing him about the house until eventually causing him to trip down the stairs and tumble to his demise - all while Rowan watched, trapped in the shadows Ethel had confined him to.

Overcome with emotions, Harry allowed Rowan to wrap his arms around him with a comforting warmth that battled the autumnal weather making him shiver slightly. Laying his head against his lover's chest, he allowed the sound of Rowan's heart to ground him, calming him from such a draining night.

"I forgot again, didn't I?" He sighed, feeling Rowan's soft touch playing with his messy curls.

"Sometimes it takes a while to process a traumatic death. You're lucky it was me that found you, I doubt Ethel would have been so quick to save you."

Harry knew Rowan was right, Ethel would have savoured every moment of his pain before eventually putting him out of his misery. She took pleasure in watching him play out the day he died, trapped in the vicious cycle until his mind finally accepted he was eternally trapped in the afterlife, living among the other countless victims the house had claimed that hid in the shadows.

"I suppose you had to kill me."

"It's the only thing that brings you back, buttercup. But I think you're starting to remember things now; you gave in to me pretty quickly this time."

At Rowan's smugness, Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes fondly. He should have known all that would play on his lover's mind were the intimate moments they always shared before Harry's death, all in an attempt to avoid discussing how it felt to murder his lover over and over again.

He knew Rowan couldn't help the darkness that clouded his mind when it came to murder. The house had taken its claim on his mind, just like it eventually would on Harry's.

There was no escaping Selly house, not even in death.

But Harry would gladly give in to whatever was in store for him if it meant an eternity in Rowan's arms. An eternity with his lover.

[independent-fics]

Inde watches “The Tower Job”

Leverage Redemption 1x04

The description warns about recent events affecting the viewers and if I remember correctly when redemption first aired it was right around the Miami(?) apartment collapse. Dang. 

Listen let Harry take initiative on this one okay.

“So she thinks she has taste” I love you Breanna

I love Parker dropping in more

And Breanna just being like I can just have the plans? She wants to steal so bad

Ahhhhh I love Eliot and Parker standing so close. And the klingon I can’t those nerds and the smile Parker has hehehe now Eliot’s grumpy again and she loves it

10 million hurts my brain too Breanna

Eliot’s head shake at her French hahaha I love them

Why is the wife and driver giving affair

“Because my American accent is better than yours” honestly I wanna explore Parker’s language mannerisms (? Idk if that’s the word I’m looking for)

Harry I love your enthusiasm. There isn’t rules just guidelines haha

Also Sophie’s fit is so nice

Parker I too am uncomfortable in business clothes

Idk which pair is having more fun Harry and Sophie being annoying or Eliot and Breanna destroying things

Off brand European tranquilizers goodness gracious

Nooooo Harry not you being in on the first lawsuit

“Your screwups make me look good” once again Breanna I love you

“The man’s trying to make amends I respect that” ugh Eliot my heart

Parker once again on the ceiling I love you. Reminded of Hardison always finding her places with rafters

Oooo Eliot love you suggesting the play of the con

Love Breanna and Harry being newbies supporting each other

The way I screamed with Breanna’s character

I love them all supporting Breanna’s art and then just Eliot’s “WHERE.” I LOVE THEM

Mrs Crawlys “I did a year at college of art” is like my “I did a study abroad” 😭 I’m sorry but I get her

Love Harry and contract law hehehe

“We never say no to parties” I love her and how foreboding that sounded and now I’m thinking about every other party the original leverage team invaded hehehe

Oh goodness not Parker knocking Breanna out hahaha but love Eliot helping her up. I’m only four episodes in but I’m desperate for new team old team bonding

Harry and Parker begging for the safe I love them

Eliot absolutely hating the kissing up he just had to do hahah I love him

THERE IS AN AFFAIR

Not Eliot’s lack of tipping annoyance reminded hahaha

Okay I am loving learning more about Harry and the changes he’s making. I get the doing your job and doing it well because who doesn’t want to do that but then realizing it’s not something that you want to be doing.

“We’re not heroes. We’re just necessary”

“ Sophie Parker Hardison and Nathan ford showed me there was another way” ugh Eliot my beloved but HA PARKER IN THE BOX

Wait I love Parker’s fit

Lil Bucky hehehe

“Wow Harry was a good bad guy” yeah Breanna he was I might be taking notes because I gotta retire one day

“I’ll go find some chopsticks” girl

I am also taking notes from Breanna dang

HARRY KEEP IT TOGETHER

“And you’re not graded on a curve Mrs Casey” dang

Oh gosh nvm as someone who also sometimes experiences vertigo get that remote away from me

I love Sophie narrating this whole thing as a show

Breanna putting on the headphones with that evil smile I love haha

BREANNA YES I TOO AM A CHEERLEADER WHEN ELIOT FIGHTS I love her enthusiasm so much and narrating. Eliot don’t deny it you’re flipping the sticks to show off

As much as I love leverage they do have a couple of iffy episodes where they really cause some trauma like wow I’m rooting for Harry rn

That chute thing would terrify me but I love that Parker is loving it

Love them buying the tower

Gosh the change in Harry from being in the first lawsuit to protecting the victims in the next

“It’s not every day someone gets a little piece of their soul back” ugh this was good

[loneamaryllis]

Merry Christmas @racfoam ! Here's a small gift for you!

A scene from a Harrymort AU where Harrie sold herself to Voldemort in exchange for peace.

"Look up."

The words were whispered in her ear, a sinuous demand that wound its barbed coils tight around her throat. She complied, helpless against the command, her eyes flicking up.

There, hanging from the ceiling, was a bouquet of mistletoe. Vibrant green leaves, white fruits dotted around the bulk of the plant, and a red ribbon.

Fuck.

Harrie tried to run.

Large hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her in place.

"You know what that means," Voldemort said, with a softness that belied the steel strength of his grip.

"No."

It didn't mean anything, because he couldn't force her into it. That was one of the few safeguards of the contract binding her to him. She had to obey most of his orders, but she was free to ignore anything regarding physical intimacy. He couldn't make her kiss him.

"It's tradition, Harrie."

"I'll make a new tradition. Stand under the mistletoe, punch you in your noseless face."

He chuckled, and the sound trailed down her spine like a ribbon of smooth silk.

"Still so fierce. You've been mine for six months now, and you haven't lost your fire."

She gnawed into her lower lip, unable to deny it. She was his. She had signed that contract and given herself to him, and in exchange, he had halted his attempts at taking over wizarding Britain. He no longer threatened Muggles and Muggle-borns. There was peace—at the cost of her freedom.

"One kiss," he said, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Just... one kiss."

She swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat. Something was churning in her stomach. Disgust, that was disgust—disgust when she pictured his snake-like face, the pale skin, the slits he had for nostrils, and those unnatural red eyes that always pierced right through her.

Yes, disgust only, she told herself, resolutely ignoring the low, cramping pull in her belly.

People were watching.

This was a party, after all—a Yule celebration—and there were guests from both sides. Death Eaters mingled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, while a few international guests were present as well. The orchestra was playing, and people were talking and mingling around the buffet, half of them oblivious to the mistletoe situation. The other half was looking at her and Voldemort.

The Malfoys were watching, all three of them, identical gray eyes on her. Snape was watching, from halfway across the room, a glass of Champagne in his hand as he stared at her, gaunt features set in a blank mask. Her friends—Ron, Hermione, Ginny—were watching, and they looked furious, but there was nothing they could do. Coming to her rescue would violate the terms of the contract, and Harrie had made it clear to them that—

—that she'd chosen this. That it was worth it. That she wanted it.

Another pulse of heat tugged at her core.

The bastard was keeping the soul bond wide open, wielding it as a weapon against her. His desire flowed toward her like a torrent, the water accumulating fast. Her mental wall wobbled.

He wanted a kiss? Fine. He would get a kiss.

Turning around, she grabbed him by the lapels of his stupid suit, tugged him down, and smashed her lips to his.

A solar flare of desire erupted between them. Voldemort let out a predatory growl and opened his mouth, his forked tongue flicking out. Harrie growled back.

Then she bit him.

Her incisors sank into his thin bottom lip, and the bitter flavor of his blood burst onto her tongue. She huffed in triumph, drawing back. He didn't let her move away. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers knotting in her hair, and he pressed their mouths together with ravenous greed, his tongue plunging between her lips.

Blood.

Blood and fire—she was burning, burning for him.

A final lick of that prehensile tongue against her own, and he let her go.

She hurriedly stepped back, her heart racing. Glaring at him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face felt too hot, her knickers too damp.

"What a delightful surprise," he said, with a sly grin. "My lioness has claws."

"That's all you'll get out of me."

His crimson eyes flared like a sunset. He lifted a finger to his mouth and casually ran it across his lips, before licking the blood with a swipe of tongue that was frankly obscene.

"That is all I wanted for now, Harrie."

She turned her back on him and lied to herself, twice. She pretended she wasn't running away.

And she pretended she hadn't liked that kiss.

[jaspermeiao3]

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Co-Parent Scorned

Summary: Based on that old internet post where a fae and a demon are promised the same baby. Voldemort (the demon) and Harry (the fae) both technically have custody over the child, and neither of them are willing to back down about it (what do you think they are, losers?) A prompt by BorealisPhonix.

Word count: 947

The crossroads was a place of paradoexs, where shadows whispered secrets to the light, and the air shimmered as though it was unsure whether to be warm or cold. It was here, beneath a sky split between perpetual sunlight and a simmering blood moon, that two figures materialised in a storm of angry magic.

On one side stood Voldemort, a towering silhouette cloaked in the scent of brimstone and despair. His eyes, two glowing embers in an otherwise featureless face, burned with malice as his shape flickered, serpentine and shifting, revealing something even less human beneath a mass of shadows and spines that clawed at the edges of reality.

Opposite him, Harry emerged from a glade that hadn’t existed a moment before. Flowers bloomed in his wake, twisting into shapes too intricate to be natural, while silver vines coiled around his feet, pulsing with energy. His face, painfully symmetrical and glowing faintly with a light that hurt to look at directly, was framed by wild black hair that seemed to move in an unfelt breeze. He smiled, wide and sharp, revealing teeth that were perhaps a little too perfect.

Between them, the baby wailed, a mortal child wrapped in a bundle of tattered cloth, wholly unaware of the cosmic custody battle about to erupt.

"Excuse me," Voldemort intoned, his voice deep and reverberating like the toll of a funeral bell. "This child belongs to me. The father promised me its soul in exchange for dominion over his enemies."

Harry tilted his head, the motion unnervingly fluid. "Oh, did he now?" His voice was as melodic as a lullaby, yet carried an undercurrent of razorsharp mockery. "Funny thing, that. The mother struck a bargain with me. She asked for fae protection for her precious oldest son. And you know how we fae are about promises."

A tension crackled in the air as reality itself seemed to groan under the weight of their conflicting claims.

"You cannot take what has already been claimed," Voldemort hissed, the shadows around him coalescing into the vague shapes of writhing creatures. "A contract sealed in blood trumps your frivolous little agreements."

Harry chuckled, a sound that was maddening. "Blood? Cute. But a mother's word carries far more weight than you apparently understand, demon. Or perhaps you’ve forgotten the rules of our game?"

"The rules are malleable," Voldemort snarled, stepping forward. Each of his steps burned the ground beneath him, leaving smoldering ash in his wake. "And I do not play. This child is a tool, a weapon to be sharpened. A soul bound to me will accomplish far more than anything your flowery tricks could achieve."

Harry’s grin widened impossibly, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching his ears. "Flowery tricks? Oh, darling, if only you knew what you were up against. This child could become a legend under my care, a hero, even! Not to mention how much fun it will be watching you sulk about it."

As the argument reached an impasse, a sudden crack of thunder split the sky. The ground trembled, and a swirling portal of light and darkness erupted between them. From its depths emerged a third figure, draped in neutral-toned robes that shimmered with incomprehensible sigils. They were neither fae nor demon but something else entirely, an arbiter of cosmic law.

"Enough!" the mediator bellowed, their voice ringing with the authority of a dozen overlapping realms. "Your dispute threatens the fabric of reality itself. The child belongs to neither of you entirely."

Harry pouted, looking up through his long lashes that covered his sparkling green eyes. "Oh, but you can’t just let him have it. Do you know how boring demons are? It’ll be all fire and brimstone, with no room for whimsy."

"And leaving the child with the fae," Voldemort interjected icily, "will doom it to a life of frivolity and delusion. Mortals were not made for endless dances and riddles."

The mediator sighed a sound that carried the exhaustion of eons. "By the laws that bind your realms, you both hold valid claims. Therefore, the child’s custody must be… shared."

"Shared?" Voldemort’s voice could have frozen magma. "You expect me to share with him?"

Harry clapped his hands together, laughing with delight. "Oh, this is rich! We’re going to be a little family! Isn’t that just precious?"

The arbiter raised a hand, and both Harry and Voldemort fell silent, their gazes snapping to the being. "The contract is sealed. You will co-parent this mortal child. Any attempt to subvert this arrangement will result in—" They gestured vaguely at the fabric of reality, which shuddered ominously. "Unraveling."

Harry leaned down, scooping up the baby with unsettling grace. The child instantly stopped crying, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Well, this will be fun," he mused. "Don’t you think so, Voldey?"

"Do not call me that," Voldemort growled, his hands curling into claws.

Harry wiggled his fingers in the demon’s direction, his smile nothing short of insufferable. "Oh, we’re going to get along splendidly, I can already tell. Come on, darling," he cooed to the baby. "Let’s go set up our little home."

Voldemort glared at Harry, shadows gathering around him like an angry storm cloud. "I will not tolerate your frivolities, fae."

"And I," Harry replied breezily, "won’t tolerate your doom and gloom aesthetic. But I suppose we’ll just have to compromise, won’t we?"

The arbiter, apparently satisfied that their job was done, vanished in a flash of light, leaving Harry and Voldemort standing in the now-silent crossroads.

The baby hiccupped.

Harry grinned. "This is going to be so much fun."

Voldemort, his fiery eyes narrowing, muttered darkly, "This is going to be Heaven.

[sebadztian]

My WIPs...

I currently have 3 WIPs. Yeah, I probably shouldn't have started on so many, but oh well, what's done is done...

The updates are kinda slow right now since I'm kind of busy with my new gig, but I'm working on them all, I promise!

1. Ciel Phantomhive and the Order of the Phoenix. The latest installment in my Demon Wizard series, a Kuroshitsuji x Harry Potter crossover. Basically, Ciel and Sebastian go to Hogwarts and they're going to help Harry & co. fight Voldemort. In return, Ciel gets to learn the basic of magic and at the end of the war, they'll get Dumbledore's soul.

2. Learning to Love. A modern take on Black Butler. Ciel is the sole heir of the Phantomhive family and one day he's going to be the CEO of Funtom, following in his father's foosteps. As per the tradition in their family, when he turns 18, Ciel is given a companion of his own, his advisor, his right hand man, essentially, his butler. This somewhat lighthearted story takes the slice-of-life approach with lots and lots of fluff and plenty of angst.

3. The Demon's Mate. My take on the OG Black Butler, with a twist. After losing everything on his 10th birthday, Ciel makes a deal with a demon. But at the end of their contract, instead of taking his soul, the demon will take Ciel as his mate, whether the boy wants to or not. This one generally follows the manga events/arcs, with some elements from the anime as I see fit. Oh, and Ciel doesn't have a twin and/or a fiance. For non-HP/crossover fans or those who are not into modern!AU, this one might be for you.

The biggest challenge in working on those WIPs is that I have to work with not one, not two, but three different Sebastian & Ciel, and three different Sebaciel dynamics. It really gets very crowded up there sometimes...

Please check them out when you have the time and I hope you're going to enjoy them!

[blues824]

Hey hey! I've been stalking your blog and seeing these amazing posts you put out so I wanted to put one in real quick before you closed off request, perhaps can I get the side characters from obey me hearing something bad has been happening in the human world so they go to check it getting Intel from places to find what is going on and try to resolve it catching demon mc doing the harm to human world since it could put a damaging reputation on the student exchange course, since because of their spiteful and rude master which they had an pack with ultimately abusing their pack with demon mc so maybe demon mc has been put under hypnosis from their master that they are doing the harmful things.

So confronting demon mc master about abusing the pack demon mc protects their master speaking up in the conversation their master gets angered from them speaking in the conversation that they pull demon mc hair yelling at them telling them to stay out of it hearing demon mc cry of pain from hair tug so hearing it makes them snap at demon mc master and resolving the issue

Gender-neutral reader.

Trigger Warning: Abuse of a pact as well as the reader, Hurt/Comfort??, Harry Potter references, making jokes out of a dark situation

Preface: You are the significant other of [insert demon], sent to the Human Realm for the exchange program.

Diavolo

You were one of the exchange students that was sent to the Human Realm for the program, and he had received word that you weren’t doing well. In fact, you were portraying very destructive behavior, which was very uncharacteristic of you.

Upon seeing him again, you ran up to him and begged him to save you from your master, but then a man walked up and pulled you by the hair while shouting at you. This made the Demon Prince absolutely furious, and he grabbed the man and threw him across the hallway.

Then, after making sure the guy was dead, he made sure that the pact would be severed. You devoured the human’s soul as per the agreement in the contract, and Diavolo made the proper preparations to bring you back home. He let the other demon student know to not make a pact.

Barbatos

His Highness had informed him that his significant other was being destructive in the human realm, and he used his powers to see what was going on. What he saw made him lose his usually calm composure. Had Diavolo not been there, he would have destroyed the entire Human Realm.

The second he got to you, you were clinging to him and crying and begging him to help you when the man you were in a pact with pulled you by the hair. I hope the mans likes dirt because he’s gonna be eating it very soon.

Guy was dead and on the Hogwarts Train to Hell by the time that Barbatos had you in his arms again. He gently ran his hands through your now-messed up hair, hoping to relieve some of the pain caused to your scalp. But don’t worry. He would go to Hell just to kill the guy all over again.

Solomon

Demons can have multiple different pacts with multiple different people, and you were in a pact with him as well as your abuser. He would use his magic to see how you were doing, when one day there was something wrong because he couldn’t sense you. He immediately went up to the human realm to see what was wrong.

That’s where he saw your master dragging you by the hair and shouting at you for not obeying him. Solomon’s only thought was Oh, hell no and he Avada Kedavra’d the dude out of the human realm on a non-stop Weasley car trip to Hell.

In the end, everything turned out to be alright. You were bloodied and bruised because of the man, and he was disgusted by the acts that humankind could pull without any remorse. Your boyfriend whipped out a small handkerchief and rubbing alcohol to treat the small cuts, using a tender hand as he went.

Simeon

Once Diavolo had told him that there was something wrong with you, that man that decided to put his hands on you better start kneeling on his knees to pray because the Wrath of God was about to condemn him to Hell. Actually, there is no point for that anymore.

Seeing you beg him to help you made his heart break, and he was in his archangel form in mere seconds. In the clouds, you could see the other archangels (even Michael), backing Simeon up. The human has now shit his pants and requires a diaper change.

After sending that douche canoe to go to the Celestial Realm just to get his credit card rejected at the Pearly Gates, Simeon felt as though he could finally let out a breath of relief after making sure that you were alright. He definitely requests a replacement for you in the exchange program.

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 7🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 7 "Stress Tested"

Timestamp: 1:01:58

Video Length: 5min.

Fig talks to Zara about continuing Warlock classes + Impromptu Field Trip to the Bottomless Pit (‣Pt. 1 | Pt. 2)

Brennan: "I think if you wanted to talk to any of the teachers, you feel cool to talk-"

Emily: "I definitely wanna go to the Warlock."

Brennan: "Cool. I think, like, that night after the Twilight Ceremony is when Warlock class is anyway. So like 30 minutes later you're skateboarding into school and Zara says,"

Zara: "Ah, Miss Faeth, it is good to see you."

Fig: "Hi."

Zara: "Listen, I think I checked the roster. There's some paperwork that needs to go through. What- and I don't want to harsh your vibe."

Fig: "Right, right."

Zara: "What class on paper are you in?"

Fig: "I'm just sort of an off paper kinda person." 😂🤣💀

Zara: "Right, so you're trespassing?"

Fig: "Yeah." 😂😂

Zara: "Okay." 💀💀

Fig: "Okay, here's the deal. I think I like your class, and so I would like to keep coming."

Zara: "All right."

Fig: "So if there's a matter of paperwork, I'm willing to dot some i's and cross some t's."

Zara: "Perfect, I think this is a very wise decision. You are in Bard classes, I believe. But as long as you get permission from your Bard teacher."

Brennan: "You see she produces a contract, and a little thing of flame and it's an MCAT. She signs her name allowing you to multiclass into her class. She hands it to you and says,"

Zara: "The power of the Warlock is the power of the agreement, which is the power of the relationship. Where do you wish to draw your power from? And where do you feel that you are drawing it from now?"

Fig: "I am an archdevil of rebellion 'cause my dad was an archdevil of rebellion. Now he actually coaches-"

Zara: "Your dad is Gorthalax?"

Fig: "Yeah, Gorthalax is my dad."

Zara: "All right. Students, impromptu field trip!"

Brennan: *screaming* "And a burning sigil appears on the ground and you see a portal opens up, and you are looking at the Bottomless Pit. And you see Baby goes,"

Baby: "Oh, Mistress!"

Fig: "Hey, Wretchrot. Can we have a field trip?"

Baby: "Ah, yes! Everyone has to lick me!" 😂😂

Fig: "Well, he's the boss!"

Zara: "Is he the boss?"

Fig: "He is the boss I work for."

Zara: "Demon, no- Er, Devil" *hand motions* *magical surge* *abjures Wretchrot*

Baby: "Ah! She's killing me!" *flies away*

Brennan: "And all these Warlock students sort of, like, gingerly step through this flaming portal and you see yourself back in the Bottomless Pit. You see there's a bunch of harried-looking little spine devils and barbed devils going like,"

Devil: *grunting* "Mistress." *rubbing hands together*

Fig: "I had this actually other crazy idea. Sorry, I'm so all over the place. I was thinking we could set up a recording studio."

Devil: "A recording studio."

Fig: "Are you guys good sound technicians?"

Devil: "Hold on one second."

Brennan: "They open a pair of double doors. It is a sort of grand cathedral-esque waiting room with almost like city hall style pews. It is crammed with souls. It is just crammed with damned souls being like,"

Damned soul: "Oh, thank God."

Brennan: "And you see they come in and all the devils go,"

The devils: "We've been waiting to hear from you for some time. We're not sure how to process these. These are all edge cases and, sort of, we need a ruling on a lot of them."

Fig: "Ruling. Okay, blanket ruling: I condemn you all to rock!"

One guy way in the back: "Nooooo!"

Brennan: "And a bunch of other people start looking around and talking. And you see this one guy who's got like-"

Fig: "If you're here it's 'cause something ****** up happened in your life. Work it out in a ******* guitar, process through some nasty distorted amp. I want you to blow out the ******* electricity in here!"

Baby: *re-manifests* "Ha ha, you heard mistress. You must turn this room into the bangingest sound studio that the Nine Hells have ever seeeeen. And then lick meeee!" 😂😂

Fig: "You guys actually don't have to do that last part. Yeah."

The one guy way in the back: "Nooooo!"

Fig: "You can. You can."

Brennan: "And you see that all of these damned souls begin to toil in the burning heat. Then sort of start constructing, like, booths. So you see that one of the barbed devils goes- with a nasty cat of nine tails is like,"

Barbed devil: "Get foam!" *whip cracking*

Fig: "No, no, no. We can't do that."

Emily: "Can I take his little nine of cat tails and give him a guitar?"

Barbed devil: *starts playing a guitar*

Ally: "He's a noodler! Oh no, he's a noodler!"

Barbed devil: *weeping* "The music feels so good!" *keeps playing guitar*

Fig: "Okay. Yeah."

[xxbyimm]

Anima Nera - Severus Snape x OC - Chapter 1 - The Return

Anima Nera - Severus Snape x OC - Chapter 1 - The Return

Summary:  She had to be the most annoying thing Severus had ever seen. Susannah Brown was the vibrant, colorful and chatty type; already moving throughout Hogwarts like she owned the place, always followed by that ridiculous creature of hers. Susannah was a little too loud, too inquisitive, and far too smart for her own good. There was no way Severus was going to share his dungeons with a character like hers, like she deserved Horace Slughorn's old quarters. No, he would see to that. There was no room in his domain for anything but his own black, bruised soul.

Right...?

Warnings: A bit of swearing.

Author’s note: I realize I'm in deep trouble, but WHAT WAS I TO DO!! I was rewatching the Harry Potter movies with my s/o, and my Severus crush woke from its slumber. The man is such a rich, complex character and I JUST AFDSKAJKFJSDFFFHHH!!!!! So here we are, giving Sev a love story that sweeps him off his feet. 🥰 I'm not a native English speaker and this work has no beta, so all mistakes are mine to cherish; I hope you don't mind. Furthermore, I'm not that active on Tumblr, AO3 is the main platform where I post my work. If you think you've missed an update, make sure to check my AO3!

‘Nothing stays hidden forever.’

August, 1990

It was strange to be back.

Susannah's fingers curled around the leather straps of her worn handbag, her hazel eyes taking in the impressive sight of Hogwarts’ grounds. It had been a decade since she had set foot here, yet the place seemed all the same—from the majestic towers reaching up into the sky, the greenhouses in front of the Bell Tower, the lake looming behind the castle and the owlery on her far right—unaltered by time.

Suzy herself had changed, though. The girl that had roamed these grounds a decade ago had been hopeful, excited even, for the future—blissfully unaware of all the awful things that were about to unfold. Teenager Suzy had been right about one thing though; her life-long dream of working with the great serpents of the east had been fulfilled, albeit her time in Romania had unexpectedly been cut short. Shards of her sudden departure loomed in her mind’s eye—Ravana’s awful snarls, loud shouting, flashes of blue and green light, followed by utter darkness. Tears stung in her eyes and Suzy bit on her lip, her hand reaching for the small creature that had hid itself amidst her burgundy curls, lounging comfortably around her neck—her affections rewarded with a soft purr.

Albus Dumbledore’s visit and consequential offer to take this job at Hogwarts had come just in time—just so eerily coincidental. Suzy had been hesitant at first—Professor Binns had taught the History of Magic class for longer than anyone could remember, how on earth could anyone dream to replace him—but Dumblefore had been persuasive, arguing that the subject could use a new, fresh perspective. Furthermore, with Suzy’s arrival the headmaster could finally grant Professor Binns all the time in the world to submerge himself in his beloved research. Everyone would be happy, right? Well…

The students probably weren’t as thankful for the decision—the History of Magic classes had been popular nap hours even during Suzy’s time—but now all this was over; soon hundreds of unruly kids would have to learn about their heritage in a more immersive, interactive way than ever before—whether they liked it or not.

‘I must be mad,’ Suzy mumbled to herself, suppressing a wave of nausea that hit her. ‘Barking mad….’

There was no taking it back, she knew that; she had accepted the offer and signed her contract—all she had to do was gather the courage to actually do her job. Suzy’s fingers brushed over her deep blue trench coat and she shuffled on her feet, the tip of her black Oxford shoe brushing against her leather trunk. Dumbledore had faith in her, he had told her so. All would be well. Besides, she still had two weeks to prepare for the first term, which surely would be plenty of time—especially for a former Ravenclaw student.

‘Oi, Suzy! Is that you?!’ A low voice boomed over the grounds, to which Suzy’s heart sprung up in its cage. It had been many months since she had properly talked to him, which unfortunately was a natural consequence of working abroad. Her favorite skirt—a long, flowy umber colored design with a paisley pattern which she had paired with a plain, long sleeved black shirt—rushed as she flung around. Upon seeing her friend, her face broke into a smile. ‘Rubeus Hagrid!’ Suzy cried out. ‘It’s been so long! How have you been?’ ‘Ah, you know,’ Hagrid replied, a broad smile cracking open his face. He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug that almost crushed her bones. As Suzy grimaced against his belt, a quiet growl rose from under the curtain of her hair. ‘Dumbledore likes to keep me busy,’ Hagrid told Suzy, oblivious to her and her companion’s discomfort, though he carefully released them all the same. He eyed her with an amused twinkle. ‘I reckon Dumbledore isn’t too happy about our little projects, you know.’ Suzy laughed, knowing full well that their shared love of dangerous creatures—no matter how big or small—was hazardous at best. Which was exactly why her friend could not know about her latest pet, at least not yet. ‘Then our headmaster must have had a lapse in his judgment,’ she mused. ‘For he has hired me as the new History of Magic teacher.’ ‘Congratulations!’ Hagrid said, beaming. ‘I’ve heard the rumors, but I thought to myself: Suzy’s off working with dragons in Romania, why would she ever want to return here?!’ Suzy shrugged and ignored the painful sting of regret rushing through her stomach. ‘I was,’ she said. ‘But you know Dumbledore; he can be quite convincing when he wants to be.’ She gestured at her trunk that stood by her feet. ‘So now I’m here, ready to prepare myself for the next term.’ ‘I’d say you get plenty of time for that,’ Hagrid remarked. ‘We even get to spend some time together, I hope. Do you need me to help carry your stuff inside?’ ‘Please,’ Suzy pleaded, though that was rather unnecessary—her friend had already hoisted her suitcase under one arm, escorting her towards the main entrance. ‘I’d love to catch up with you, it’s been too long.’ ‘Aye,’ Hagrid agreed. ‘I’ve been brewing something special for the occasion, just in case. Do you still hold your liquor like you used to?’ She smiled faintly. ‘I’m not sure, it’s been a while.’ Hagrid shot her a glance, his dark eyes studying her for a moment. Then he grinned. ‘Who are you and what have you done with Susannah Brown?’ ‘Professor Brown shouldn’t consume too many beverages I’m afraid,’ Suzy told him. ‘She has an example to set for future legacies’, no matter how tempting said alcoholic beverages might be.’ ‘Who turned you so solemn?!’ Suzy laughed. ‘No one. I’m trying to leave a good impression.’ She turned to her friend, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. ‘But after that, I’m in….’

Apparently her new colleagues were all very excited to meet her, for Suzy wasn’t granted a moment’s rest; her trunk and coat were left forgotten at the foot of the grand stairs while Suzy herself was being whisked away to the teacher’s lounge by none other than Minerva McGonagall.

‘We’re so thrilled to have you, dear,’ McGonagall told her as they made their way through the castle—her brisk, certain steps followed by Suzy’s unsure footing. ‘And you’re conveniently in time for our staff meeting.’ ‘Is that so? Our headmaster failed to mention that,’ Suzy replied, panic rising in her chest. She raked a hand through her unruly curls, though careful not to disturb—or show—her companion. ‘I believe I’m wholly unprepared, I’m so sorry.’ McGonagall shook her head and offered her new colleague a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, dear; we won’t expect anything of you yet, just be present and we’ll see how it goes, won’t we?’ ‘I will do my best,’ Suzy promised wholeheartedly, determined not to mess up. ‘Though if I may: Hagrid didn’t seem informed about the fact there’s a meeting—at least, he hasn’t mentioned it upon my arrival.’ ‘Good. You’re still as sharp as a whip, I see,’ McGonagall said with a nod. ‘Professor Dumbledore required Rubeus’ presence elsewhere, which is why he won’t make it today. But don’t worry, you’ll see your friend at dinner tonight.’ Suzy nodded, temporary relief washing over her. At least she wouldn’t have to endure her first meal at Hogwarts as a Professor in the sole company of her former teachers too; a staff meeting would suffice. She followed McGonagall through the corridor, taking in the portraits, tapestry and solemn gray walls she had missed. Despite it being equally awkward and uncomfortable to be back, she had always felt at home at Hogwarts too; surely the discomfort would pass sooner or later.

‘This is the staffroom,’ McGonagall announced after turning a corner. She placed her hand on the heavy, wooden door in front of them. ‘The password is apricus.’ At that, the door opened with a heavy creak and the Professor and former student stepped inside. ‘So spending time away from the students is a sunny prospect, then?’ Suzy mused, appreciating the Latin password. ‘I’ve often wondered what this room would look like—’

She was not sure what to expect—she’d never seen a teacher’s lounge before—but it certainly wasn’t… this. The lounge wasn’t as spacious as the Ravenclaw common room that Suzy had frequented in her time, but the lack of space made the place feel much more welcoming. Suzy’s eyes traveled over the stone floor—that was covered by rugs in all kinds of colors and shapes— and the gray walls, which were packed with various paintings and portraits. A narrow corridor on her right gave entrance to the teacher’s library—complete with a few desks—and on the far side of the room, a sitting area was overlooked by four windows that reached from floor to ceiling—the exquisite stained glass in them depicting Hogwarts' four founders. The sitting area held at least a dozen comfortable armchairs, which were centered around two enormous hearths that filled the room with a pleasant glow. Even from the entrance, Suzy felt the heat radiating against her skin.

McGonagall led Suzy through the room towards Professor Flitwick and madame Hooch, who were lounging on two chairs near the fire. ‘Might I re-introduce Miss Susannah Brown?’ she said. ‘I’m sure you are acquainted with her already, for she has enjoyed her education here at Hogwarts.’ ‘Hello Miss Brown,’ Madame Hooch greeted her with a small, friendly smile. ‘How many years has it been?’ ‘More than a decade already,’ Suzy replied with a nod. ‘I graduated in 1979.’ ‘Really?’ Madame Hooch mused, slumping back in her chair. ‘So it’s true, then. We’re getting old, Filius.’ Professor Flitwick laughed and put down the book that had been levitating in front of his face. ‘Don’t mind her. It’s good to have you back, Miss Brown,’ he remarked with his twinkling eyes. ‘How are you?’ Suzy smiled at the head of Ravenclaw house. ‘It’s good to be back, Professor Flitwick; though it’s a bit unexpected.’ ‘Dumbledore reigned you in, didn’t he?’ Flitwick established as he leapt from his chair. McGonagall flashed him a glare, to which the Charm’s Professor chuckled. ‘I’m merely speaking the truth, Minerva,’ he said. ‘We all know our headmaster’s tendency to collect people. I’d say he’s even better at it than our own Horace Slughorn.’ McGonagall heaved a sigh. ‘It might be common knowledge, Filius, but that doesn’t mean you should mention it, especially not in front of our newest staff member.’ ‘I don’t mind,’ Suzy said, in earnest. ‘I let him, after all. Tell me, is Professor Slughorn still teaching here?’ ‘Professor Slughorn is enjoying his retirement,’ McGonagall replied. ‘Our current Potion’s Master is Professor Snape.’ ‘Severus Snape?’ Suzy inquired, ignoring the weird knot her stomach started to twist itself in. She had hoped against all odds he wouldn’t have been here, but if she was truthful with herself she couldn’t imagine him living in any other place. Of course he was still here. ‘Weren’t you in the same year as Professor Snape?’ McGonagall asked, watching her befuddled expression with interest. Suzy quickly shook her head, her eyes darting over the room to make sure Professor Snape wasn’t here. ‘No, he was one year above me. Though we met a few times at Professor Slughorn’s dinner parties.’ Professor Flitwick laughed at the remark and even Suzy could appreciate the irony; apparently both Snape and herself had been collected by Professor Slughorn first, only to be lured into the school once more by none other than Professor Dumbledore.

The fact that they had shared Hogwarts as students didn’t mean Suzy knew Snape well, on the contrary—aside from the obvious fact that they had been sorted in different houses, the older students tended to look down at the younger ones, making their interactions sparse—even at those infamous dinner parties. Embarrassingly enough, those spare interactions had been more than enough for teenager Suzy to develop a crush on Severus Snape—much to her best friends’ amusement. Granted, Severus could be seen as an unlikely choice, but Suzy always had found him equally cute and smart—the enigmatic, tormented air around him drawing her attention like a moth around a flame. Which was exactly why she had ended up in his bed that one summer night years later—drunk and stupid. Oh God, this was going to be so embarrassing.

Feeling slightly light-headed, Suzy followed McGonagall, Flitwick and Hooch to a portrait in the far left end of the room. McGonagall nodded at the figure and the portrait flew aside, revealing a small doorway that led to a conference room. Despite her nerves, a faint smile crossed Suzy’s face. Hogwarts never ceased to enthrall her—it was always so… refreshingly inefficient, with a flair for theatrics.

The conference room was mostly empty and a large, oaken table dominated the place. Though Mcgonagall had mentioned an upcoming staff meeting, Suzy was surprised to only discover Professor Sprout already sitting at the left end of the table. Upon noticing her former student, the Herbology teacher beamed.

‘Welcome back, Susannah!’ she said, waving with enthusiasm. ‘We’re so happy you’re here! You were an excellent student, I’m sure you’ll do just as great with teaching. Come sit with me and share all of your adventures before we start!’ Heat flooded Suzy’s cheeks, but she obliged anyway. ‘Ah, but Professor Sprout—’ ‘Call me Pomona, sweetheart. Do you care for some tea?’ Professor Sprout offered, gesturing at the steaming teapot in front of her. ‘I think Miss Brown would want something stronger,’ madame Hooch replied with a grin as she elbowed Suzy in her arm. ‘It’s her first hour here and she already has to endure a staff meeting.’ The portrait creaked, bringing madame Pomfrey inside. ‘Ah!’ She called. ‘I see you’re back, Miss Brown!’ ‘That I am,’ Suzy greeted the matron with a grin. ‘It’s good to see you.’ ‘Just promise me you won’t set yourself on fire again, Susannah,’ madame Pomfrey remarked. ‘A certain part of my hospital ward still smells like burned hair.’ Suzy laughed and sat down next to Professor Sprout, already feeling more at ease. ‘I’m so sorry, madame Pomfrey,’ she said. ‘I assure you I’ve sworn off hair dyeing ever since.’ ‘I was surprised you deemed it necessary,’ the matron replied, gracefully seating herself at the vacant spot on the other side of their Herbology colleague. ‘Ah, thank you Pomona,’ she murmured as she accepted a cup of tea. ‘That burgundy shade of yours, Susannah, is seldomly seen, it would be a waste not to keep it.’ Suzy—thoroughly embarrassed by all the kind attention she currently received—brushed a curl behind her ear and looked down at the ground. ‘Don’t be nervous, dear,’ Professor Sprout spoke while silently handing Suzy a cup of tea as well. ‘We’re all sure you will be a valuable addition. Professor Binns wasn’t much of a talker—outside of his classroom of course—and we could use some fresh insights.’ ‘Where has Professor Binns gone?’ Suzy inquired, as she traced her fingers over the rim of her teacup, which was piping hot—a bit like being burned by the fires of Hel—and caused her to retreat her hands into her lap. ‘Professor Dumbledore told me he’s going to devote his time to his studies, but has he left Hogwarts?’ ‘No, he’s still here with us,’ madame Hooch replied, taking a seat at Suzy’s side. ‘I’m afraid Professor Binns has requested to keep his old classroom,’ McGonagall told Suzy. ‘You’ve been assigned Horace Slughorn’s old spare classroom and adjoining office instead.’ Suzy’s face lit up. Though all of Professor Slughorn’s former quarters were situated in the dungeons, they never had felt damp or uncomfortable—in her opinion, the small ceiling windows gave the spaces a cozy hue; she couldn’t have picked a more suitable place herself. ‘I don’t think Miss Brown minds,’ madame Hooch commented with a grin while she elbowed Suzy to pass her a cup. ‘No, I really don’t,’ Suzy agreed, handing over the requested tea. ‘That’s settled then,’ McGonagall decided.

Slowly but surely the teacher’s lounge filled with the rest of the staff—both familiar and unfamiliar faces—the most greeting Suzy like she was a long lost cousin. Though it was slightly awkward to be around most of her former teachers, it was hard not to feel welcome, everyone seemed happy she was there.

Albus Dumbledore was the second-last to enter, gracefully nodding at every member of his staff before taking his seat on the head of the table, the seat on his right still vacant—Severus Snape was still nowhere to be seen. Thank the heavens.

‘Welcome everybody,’ Professor Dumbledore began in his decisive tone, effectively gathering the attention of the whole table—even Professor Trelawney seemed to have mustered a present state of mind. ‘I’m happy most of you are here. Rubeus is currently occupied, so unfortunately he won’t be able to attend.’ Though Suzy was curious what kind of task Hagrid was asked to carry out this time, no one seemed to have the same train of thought. She pursed her lips together, mentally reminding herself she could ask her friend later. Hagrid was terrible at keeping secrets, so she would have it out of him in no time. ‘Furthermore,’ Dumbledore went on, his eyes landing on Suzy. ‘We are happy to welcome two new staff members in our midst. You might all know Susannah Brown already as our former student; she has graciously accepted the position of History of Magic teacher. We hope you have a great time at Hogwarts, Susannah.’ ‘Thank you, headmaster,’ Suzy spoke, her cheeks prickling from all the attention that was directed at her and the room suddenly felt uncomfortably stuffy—not to speak about the creature in her neck that radiated her own body heat back at her. ‘I’m glad to be here.’ Dumbledore gave her an encouraging smile before continuing. ‘Alas our second newcomer has to settle some affairs, but he will join us as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at the start of the first term.’ ‘Who will fill the position this time, Albus?’ Madame Hooch inquired. ‘Amos Warrington has offered to fulfill the post,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I believe he will do wonderfully.’

Amos Warrington?! Dumbledore could not possibly mean—

Suzy shuffled in her seat and waited for the final blow, but again no one seemed to wonder why Amos Warrington, as a famous auror, had any interest in teaching at Hogwarts. Even as the exceptional student in Suzy’s year, Amos had always gravitated towards the thrills—and dangers—of life; no one had been surprised when he became an auror for the role suited him perfectly. Suzy’s hands fiddled with her cup. Why would Amos want to come back? And why right now? Add that to the pile of misery. Just her luck.

The portrait opened one final time, bringing a lovely cold gust of air with it. A tall, slender man with raven hair that reached his shoulders and a strong, Roman nose stepped over the threshold. He was completely clad in black—save for his white shirt that popped up from under his button-up coat at the sleeves and collar—giving off a brooding, stern aesthetic that demanded immediate respect. Oh no, still dark and broody.

‘Ah, Severus,’ Dumbledore greeted Hogwarts Potion’s Master with a smile. ‘There you are.’ ‘My apologies, headmaster,’ Snape said, his tone solemn; yet his dark eyes had already landed on Suzy. ‘I was delayed.’ ‘No matter,’ Dumbledore replied and gestured at the vacant spot. ‘You’re here now.’

As Severus Snape made his way towards his seat—with a certain grace that reminded Suzy of a hawk pursuing its target midair—the headmaster went on to stipulate several topics that needed further discussion. After Snape had silently taken his place, his dark eyes traveled quickly around the table, registering every colleague present before his gaze settled at the newcomer’s face once again—his dark brown tones clashing with Suzy’s vivid hazel shades. Though Suzy forced herself to offer a polite smile, Snape didn’t feel the need to return the courtesy—his piercing stare kept unreadable and simply burned a hole through her existence, as if the entity of Susannah Brown was a complex puzzle that needed to be solved before the meeting was over.

Good gracious. Her stomach did the thing again—twisting in itself—and Suzy’s mind briefly wandered over the forbidden topic of her night with Severus; she had it safely stashed away in the bottom drawers of her consciousness, the memory both painful and wondrous. Though they had been drunk she distinctively remembered the way his hands had devoured her, resembling the eagerness of a starved man. She had felt those long, elegant fingers running along her spine for days after, yet it was the tone of his voice when he had— Suzy quickly sipped from her tea, hiding her tormented expression behind the Fine China. The memory had chased her for months, repeating itself over and over again and haunting her even in her sleep. She would never get over that.

‘—how is that coming along, Severus?’ McGonagall asked, the mention of his name pulling Suzy back into the present again. Severus' intense gaze lifted from her frame and he turned to his colleague, providing her with a short, decisive reply. Suzy, still a bit dazed, bit on her lip—a small frown tugging at her features.

Right. So far, he hadn’t shown any signs that he remembered what had transpired between them—chances were that he was truly oblivious. Which meant all that Suzy had to do was to figure out how to keep her own feelings of regret and shame in check.

If only she knew how…

The meeting passed more swiftly than expected and soon Suzy found herself out in the hallway again. After she had promised a few of her new colleagues to meet them again at dinner and assured McGonagall that she already knew her way to her new office, Suzy watched the others disappear into the rest of the castle. Her companion, who still occupied the comfortable space of her neck, purred gently, apparently happy that the first hurdle was over. ‘Don’t act like that,’ Suzy murmured. ‘If you would be more comfortable on your own, you wouldn’t have to endure these kinds of things. You could stay in my office, curled up in the new blanket I bought you.’ A tiny whine reached her ears and Suzy smiled. ‘Yeah, yeah. I know. Let’s see if Professor Slughorn’s old quarters are to your liking, then.’

She was just about to be on her merry way when she was cut short by none other than Professor Dark and Broody himself, who inconveniently materialized from around the corner. Upclose, he was as handsome as she remembered, but—she quickly told herself—that was wholly beside the point. ‘Good afternoon Miss Brown,’ he greeted her in his deep, languid voice. ‘I believe we weren’t properly introduced, apologies for my negligence. I’m Professor Severus Snape, I teach the art of Potions.’

Okay, they were going to act like they hadn’t met at all—which was fine. Suzy eyed him for a moment, but the complex puzzle that was Severus Snape didn’t seem inclined to show her his secrets yet. ‘Pleased to meet you, Professor,’ she then replied and held out her hand, a crooked smile adorning her face. ‘I’m Susannah Brown. Our headmaster has entrusted the interesting topic of the History of Magic to me this upcoming year.’ ‘It’s a far cry from working with dragons in Romania,’ Snape remarked as he accepted her offer and shook her hand. His fingers were still long and elegant, his skin cool—yet pleasant—to the touch. ‘What made you move your career in this direction?’ She had anticipated this question, for Dumbledore had brushed over the same topic a few weeks ago. She had told him the ugly truth, even though he must have already known it, or he would never have laid out his offer to her. They also had discussed it would be better not to share why Suzy decided to make this sudden career switch—though the evidence of her motives was still lounging in her neck and wouldn’t want to stay hidden for long.

‘Reveal your secrets and I reveal mine,’ Suzy replied with a sweet smile. ‘Though in all earnest, I think taming some unruly kids will be easier than teaching a dozen wild dragons not to kill you.’ ‘Are you sure about that?’ Snape questioned in his lazy, defying tone, just as her small companion swished its tail over her shoulder, catching the Potions Master’s attention. His lips curved into a curious, yet detached smile. ‘And what are you hiding there, Miss Brown?’

Though she was a student no more and she certainly didn’t need to explain herself to the head of Slytherin House, Suzy decided this was her cue to take off. Before she could, though, her tiny companion stretched and shoved its head through their mistress’ unruly locks. So dramatic.

‘Is that—’ Snape began, staring at the tiny dragon that was perched upon Suzy's shoulder. ‘That’s just Hel,’ Suzy quickly explained while she brushed her hair aside, revealing all of her companion. ‘Short for Helena of Troy, of course.’ ‘A dragon,’ Snape summarized in a seemingly bored tone. ‘At Hogwarts.’ Hel canted her small head, her big golden eyes observing Snape with interest. She was no bigger than a ferret, though instead of soft, lush fur Hel possessed a smooth scaly skin in a beautiful forest green color. Hel’s small horns and the spikes that ran along her spine were a bright red hue that contrasted beautifully with the green. Her wings, small yet elegant omens of mischief, were currently folded neatly against her back. Though dragons were usually described as being extremely dangerous, Hel’s size reduced that quality significantly; the only danger with Hel was that one could succumb to severe bouts of cuteness aggression. ‘Teacup dragon,’ Suzy corrected him, unable to help herself. ‘She will stay this size.’ Snape eyed her like the idea of a living and breathing dragon inhabiting Hogwarts was the stupidest thing ever—teacup sized or not. Anger rose in Suzy’s chest, for he didn’t know Hel’s good manners, and more importantly: how hard they both worked to achieve said manners. ‘Hogwarts housed a werewolf during our time here,’ she argued, her arms crossing. ‘I’m pretty sure it can handle a teacup dragon.’ ‘A werewolf is only dangerous once a month,’ Snape told her, raising his brow. ‘And as you’re well aware, it was locked up every month as a precaution. A fire breathing dragon flying around our halls threatens our safety every single minute it stays under this roof.’ Suzy planted her hands in her sides, determined to defend her friend. ‘Who says Hel breathes fire?!’ ‘That’s a technicality and you know it,’ Snape retorted. Suzy gritted her teeth. ‘So you dare to question an authority on the field of dragons?!’ ‘You mean the same authority that was allegedly fired?’ Snape said. ‘Certainly.’ ‘How—’ she began, heat rushing towards her cheeks. This was outrageous. Dumbledore had promised her he would keep the secret she entrusted him with, there was no way that Snape—of all people—would have heard about it from him. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she bristled, ignoring Hel’s claws gripping into her shoulderbone—whenever Suzy lost her temper, Hel was bound to do the same. ‘What does, is that Professor Dumbledore knows about Hel,’ Suzy continued, raising her finger. ‘And the fact that Hel and I are a package deal. Hogwarts can have us both, or neither of us at all.’

Silence settled between them, in which Snape’s penetrating gaze flew from Hel to Suzy’s frame. Suzy forced herself to breathe; even though she could basically hear him think Hogwarts would be better off without the both of them. He sure as hell was lucky that Suzy wasn’t a dragon herself, for she would have incinerated the arrogant bastard twice already. Or thrice, just for good measure.

Hel sneezed and a small puff of smoke escaped her nostrils. ‘Bless you,’ Suzy said gently as she petted her dragon on the head. She then glared at her new colleague, who looked at her as if Hel just had proven his point. ‘Oh, don’t look at me like that,’ she lashed out. ‘Hel is harmless. Why is that so hard for you to understand?’ ‘I don’t think I need to further prove my point,’ Snape concluded, gesturing at Hel with disgust. ‘Or are you truly that daft, Miss Brown?’

Ah. The mere memory of their one night stand never failed to make her feel delusional and stupid, but daft certainly fitted nicely in there. Practically fuming now, Suzy narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you always this condescending?’ she demanded through gritted teeth. His reply was lazy and monotone, as if he was bored with her already. ‘Only when people are stupid enough to test my patience.’

Her eyes flared. ‘Well, considering you deem most of the population unworthy and lacking, you must make life really hard on yourself.’ ‘That is a bold assumption to make about my character,’ he stated, sounding equally annoyed and amused. ‘May I remind you that you don’t know me?’ Suzy bit on the tip of her tongue, barely able to reign herself in. The term of knowing someone was rather abstract here; it was true that they’d never been friends or even vague acquaintances, but a practical stranger definitely wouldn’t know how he tasted or how it had felt to have him sheathed inside of her. ‘I know enough,’ she finally spoke. A cold smile tugged on the corner of his lips. ‘Then may I inquire on what evidence you have based your expert opinion on? The newspaper? Your highschool friends?’

Did he truly expect her to utter it out loud?! That arrogant, condescending idiot— Suzy pressed her lips into a firm line. Her chest tightened and her hands were trembling. She barely registered Hel fidgeting on her shoulder, the little dragon looking frantically from left to right like a referee making sure both parties followed the rules of the verbal fencing match. Suzy knew time was fleeting—it was only a matter of time before Hel would start to mirror the way her human felt—and it wouldn’t be pretty. Severus, on the other hand, was unaware of the imminent danger and crossed his arms while he awaited her reply.

‘I must go,’ Suzy finally spoke. ‘Hel needs to calm down.’ Snape nodded curtly. ‘You meant to say before that dragon sets this place on fire?’ An exasperated sigh escaped her. ‘You absolute dickhead—’

Hel screeched loudly, her cry echoing through the corridor, and flapped with her wings. ‘Ouch!’ Suzy yelped as a left wing smacked her against her cheek, before quickly grabbing Hel from her shoulder and cradling her dragon in her arms. ‘Hush, silly monster. You’ll be alright. We’re not in danger.’ Hel, who wasn’t as certain of this, growled—her golden eyes watching Snape with distrust. Snape had retreated—granted, a smart move—and leaned against the wall, watching the spectacle enveloping before his eyes.

‘Well?’ He asked, practically taunting her to plead her case once more. ‘I shall be happy to elaborate why I think you’re the biggest dick this school has to offer,’ Suzy told him impatiently as she struggled to hold onto her distressed draconic pet. ‘But it has to wait until later. Good day, Professor Snape.’

With that, Suzy brusquely turned around and paced away, leaving an astonished, enraged and yet very much intrigued Severus Snape behind.

‘I can’t believe she’s so tiny,’ Hagrid said for the thousandth time as he peered at Hel, who was currently asleep, curled up against his chest. The trio had retreated to Hagrid’s place after dinner, where Suzy was happy to reacquaint herself with Fang—their fourth Musketeer. They had tried Hagrid’s latest brew—it was horrible, but Suzy hadn’t the heart to tell him that—and now lounged in their respectable chairs, perfectly content in each other’s presence.

Hel purred in her sleep and Hagrid studied her features once more. ‘And look at her horns!’ he exclaimed. ‘Suzy… She’s perfect. Are you sure there aren’t any more of her kind?’ ‘I know,’ Suzy beamed, feeling like a proud mother hen showing off her chick. ‘She’s truly one of a kind, though. Most dragon breeders deem teacup dragons unnatural, which is why I’m proud to be her mother; nothing will separate us ever again.’ ‘Not even Professor Snape?’ Hagrid teased, wiggling his thick eyebrows—referring to the icy atmosphere between Suzy and Snape during dinner. It had been awkward beyond mention. Suzy heaved a sigh and patted Fang on his head. ‘Severus Snape can complain about Hel all he wants; if Dumbledore wants her to leave, I will go with her.’ Hagrid nodded and then awarded her with a big grin. ‘What did you say you called him?’ Suzy bit on her lip. ‘The biggest dick this school has to offer and something along the lines of condescending. Among other things.’ Hagrid burst into laughter, his chest shaking with effort and waking up poor Hel. ‘Sorry, love,’ he told the small dragon as he tried to compose himself, stroking gently along her cheek before diverting his attention to Suzy again. ‘There’s more?!’ ‘I might have called him an absolute dickhead,’ the latter whispered, equally embarrassed and worried. ‘But I think that was it.’ ‘Suzy,’ Hagrid said, an awful wide grin splitting his face in two. ‘This was your first day and you managed to insult Professor Snape in more ways than any of us have ever dared.’ ‘In my defense, he came for Hel first,’ Suzy countered. ‘And then he basically called me daft ánd stupid. To which I—’ ‘Called him a huge dickhead?’ ‘No,’ she replied. ‘Not exactly. That particular insult followed later.’

Her friend eyed her like she was a gift that wouldn’t stop giving and it made Suzy laugh. ‘Stop reveling in my misery,’ she pleaded. ‘I might have made my life at Hogwarts impossible. How am I ever going to recover from it?!’ ‘You should do well to apologize to him tomorrow,’ Hagrid agreed. ‘You know, since you share the dungeons with him and all.’

Oh, fuck. Fuck! The blood drained from Suzy’s face, to which Hagrid burst into laughter again. How could she have been so stupid? Of course that awful, handsome bastard had taken residence in the dungeons. Now she thought of it, it was rather surprising that Snape hadn’t claimed Professor Slughorn’s quarters himself, though he might have found it too small to fit his big ego.

‘I am so fucked,’ Suzy concluded, leaping from her chair and pacing towards the window. It was dark outside and the only thing she could see was her own face—the unruly curls she had spent most of her life hating, her doe-like hazel eyes, her father’s Greek nose and the thin lips she had been teased with throughout her teens. Nothing too special. ‘Oi, you’re not going to find your answers outside,’ Hagrid remarked after a while. ‘Let’s share another drink….’ She turned around, remembering she still had to ask her friend why he hadn’t been around for the council meeting. ‘Only if you tell me what you were up to this afternoon.’ Hagrid shook his head. ‘I can’t. It’s top secret.’ ‘You know I’ll get it out of you sooner or later,’ Suzy mused. ‘Probably save us all the trouble….’

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[melhindips]

Day 341

🇺🇸 Harris says in presidential debate she will ‘always give Israel the ability to defend itself’

🇵🇸 64 killed, 104 injured in Gaza in 24 hours

🤐 PA agrees on security deal with Israel amid Gaza genocide to tackle resistance in the north of occupied West Bank

🦠 UNRWA says about 530,000 children in Gaza received polio vaccine

🇨🇦 Canada suspends 30 arms shipment permits to Israel & cancels an ammunition contract

Gaza:

North: IOF strike kills 3, injures 7 in Gaza City. IOF kills 9 incl. 3 kids & 2 women in Jabalia

Central: IOF attack on school-shelter kills 14 incl. women & kids in Nuseirat

South: IOF bombs building killing 13 in Khan Younis. Other Khan Younis attack kills 1 kid

• 2 IOF soldiers killed, 3 injured in helicopter crash in Rafah

West Bank:

Tubas: IOF besieges city incl. hospital & carries out strike killing 5

Ramallah: IOF turns home into military outpost & IOF soldier killed in truck-ramming attack

Tulkarem: IOF abducts 5 PRCS paramedics

🌟I was verified by PaliLiberation Family#132