#even you've got a solid trio like this

[cinlat]

I am so happy with this. Thank you dingoat! I love their bg3 style so much.

What is a best friend and an obnoxious brother supposed to do when Fynta has a bad day? Smooch Ambush of course! You know these two idiots had fun planning the perfect opportunity of attack. Sometimes Fynta needs to be reminded that she doesn't have to carry it all alone.

"And I'm enough."

Ahaaaha so happy that it gets to be @cinlat 's lovely Fynta being smooch-attacked by Cormac and Verin for this one, also super fun drawing some swtor OCs that are also bg3 OCs at the same time.

[katsumox]

"the roomate."

~1k words. jason todd x reader.

there's so much sexual tension here it should be illegal. anyway..

“Fuck you, Jason. Literally fuck you,” you shout, stomping into the shared apartment.

It was the third argument this week. It's been two months since you moved in, and the two of you have been arguing ever since. You found Jason's apparent severe dislike for you confusing, as you'd been nothing if not outright kind to him. At the very least, you've been an amicable and considerate roommate.

Time after time, Jason Todd found ways to get under your skin in the apartment you shared with him, Roy, and Kori. Though you were a new addition to the trio, you meshed extremely well with everyone, except Jason, of course. The two redheads were quick to tell you that Jason didn’t get along with many, but he didn’t mean any harm. Nevertheless, The four of you began renting a condo for the sake of cheap rent when the going got tough.

Something about you seemed to fundamentally irritate Jason. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t have a perpetual stick up your ass, unlike him, or maybe it was because he had a natural aversion to anything happy or remotely nice. Perhaps it was the way you found reasons to smile and laugh obscenely hard at jokes his male friends say, but somehow find Jason entirely unfunny. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you don’t immediately shut down Roy’s frequent flirty jokes and offers for dates.

“Oh,” he drawls, eyes widened. “Didn’t think good girls like you cursed,” he mocks, following you into the shared living space.

You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels with a little more malice than you probably should.

“Just because you make it your life’s mission to be the meanest, most inconsiderate son of a bitch on the planet,” you snarl, stalking towards your room, “doesn’t mean I have to deal with it. Be a fucking cunt on your own time.”

“Fuck did you just say to me?”

You whip around, tired of the back and forth. “You heard exactly what the fuck I said.”

The smell of his cologne mixed with gunpowder all but invades your senses as he storms toward you.

“Fuck you,” he sneers, eyes narrowed. His hulking form towers over you, his neck craned down to see all of you as he backs you into a corner. At nearly 6’4, a literal wall of muscle and angst, he towers over you, posturing.

His near-permanent scowl hardens as you refuse to break eye contact, despite something in you begging to. Jason's always been pretty. If not for his attitude, you'd find him incredibly attractive. In fact, you think, mentally frowning, you find him attractive despite his cold demeanor. Maybe even because of it.

The rough timbre of Jason’s voice wakes you from your silent stupor.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmurs, pressing himself closer to you, lips just barely ghosting your own. He pulls back, realizing the desperation in his voice in tandem with his proximity to you is maddening.

“Tell me to get the fuck out," he says, breathless. "To stop touching you,” his hand now lightly squeezing your jaw, keeping you in place. Keeping you from avoiding confrontation.

His focus flickers between your lips and your eyes, taking labored breaths.

You part your lips, as whatever thought you began to formulate dies as you realize the proximity of Jason’s lips to yours. You take a shallow breath again. You could count every one of his dark, long eyelashes from here, you think. Every one of his sun spots and freckles, and scars.

“Tell me not to. Tell me now,” he rasps, blueish-green eyes half-hidden by low eyelids. Something unspoken passes between the two of you, neither of you saying anything, yet saying everything all at once. You take a breath, hoping your words won't fail you for a second time.

"…Fuck it."

Suddenly you both are on each other, kissing, clawing, and caressing all the same.

A groan rumbles in Jason's chest as you paw at him. You've been enveloped by him in all his entirety; his smell, his taste, his sounds. You press at his chest, a solid wall of muscle, hoping to push him blindly, to where you think the couch is. The man smirks at your initiative, taking the hint.

He taps your ass twice, but you're too distracted by the taste of him on your lips.

"Be good f'me, doll. Lemme lift you,"

You hum, more concerned with the mountain of a man in front of you. He lifts you with ease, sitting you on his lap as he resumes his mission to make you break. Your nails scrape down his chest deliciously, drawing out another low, needy noise from the man. Jason takes note of how freely you let your hands roam, ghosting over places that haven't been touched in a long time.

"Eager, aren't we, sweetheart?"

"Shut up," you say at full volume, caught off guard by the nickname and forgetting where you are.

"Shut me up, then," Jason quips, pulling you up toward his face for another dizzying kiss. His kisses move from the corner of your mouth down your jaw. Featherlight touches follow him down to your collarbone, where he lightly nibbles at you.

You let out a strangled, needy noise, one far too loud and embarrassing for the time and place the two of you find yourselves in.

"Shh, shhh. 'S okay, baby," Jason coos, a devilish smile creeping up on his swollen lips. "Wouldn't want the others to hear you, would we?"

You hum and shake your head, dazed, as the man deftly rubs circles into your hip with his fingers.

"Guess we should take this to a more private place, hm, pretty girl?"

You nod emphatically, chasing his lips as he moves you off of him.

"So," he pauses, catching his breath. His black hair is tousled, his lips pink and swollen, and his pupils blown wide.

"Your room or mine?"

[rhiaarrow]

Honestly I think Bad and the Late Night Trio is my favorite dynamic that's come out of the QSMP.

And I'm not just talking about qBad, Dapper, Pomme and Richas I'm also talking about ccBad, Dappmin, Pommin and Ricardão.

It's just the little things they do, because they're just so used to each other by now and the adms have become such good friends because of the amount of time they spend together on and off the server.

There's just so many examples that stick in my head because they're just so sweet when you realize that none of this people knew each other this time last year.

Like the time when Richas just showed up in front of Bad randomly one day after the reset (the day that Dapper set up the magnet mining machine) and just went;

"Dapper told me through the magic of discord to come see the cool stuff you've been doing, what am I here to see tio?"

Or when Bad and Dapper were out investigating and Dapper puts down a sign saying;

"Richas won't stop telepathically asking if he can come visit."

To which Bad just offhandedly replies

"If he can Dragon Magic his way here then sure, but I am not walking all the way home already."

And sure enough, a few minutes later we hear Richas' horn sound out as he appears out of the blue, having finally been given permission by Dappmin to join their exploration

Not to mention the amount of times we've arrived and been told by Bad; "So heres what [Richas or Pomme or Dapper or any combination of those 3] and I did off stream. "

Or "No Richas I'm not leaving I'm just sending the Ghosties off."

Or when Bad was attempting to figure out how to bribe Richas into keeping his armour on in Lucky Ducks by figuring out what he loved the most before going

"If you don't put your armour on I'll take away fofoca time."

And then explained to the chat that 'fofoca time' is what Richas calls it when he and Bad hang out after stream and that got Richas to put his armour on immediately.

Or even today when Bad threatened to end stream in order to make Richas use a heart container.

Not to mention the night Pommin and Ricardão spent with ccBad training him in battleship before that day in Purgatory 2 or the night they spent modifying the egg signs together.

My favorite example of how close they are even outside of their characters will still forever be the night when Bad, Richas and Pomme were collecting ice together to cover the favela ocean and Ricardão and Pommin were very obviously sat in a vc together while the mined.

They spent a while teaching Bad and the other how to pronounce certain sounds in their native languages.

Then Richarlyson asked Bad about a sound he struggled with in English so Bad taught Ricardão how to make the 'th' sound in the English language correctly while Pommin judged the noise they were making because Bad obviously couldn't hear.

Then later Bad asks Pomme where Richas went since he wasn't visible on the map and she just stands there before telling him that she knows the location and taking him to the exact coordinates.

And they do that a couple times until Bad finally decides to sneak up on Richas and scares Ricardão so bad that he stops moving completely in game for a solid minute and Pommin is just keyboard smashing on signs because she's laughing too hard at how loudly they screamed.

And then Ricardão had to go afk for a couple minutes later on because someone had come to check on them since they'd screamed so loud so early in the morning and they had to tell them that they were, in fact, fine.

Sure right now the way they interact with each other definitely slightly breaks Bad's rp of not knowing each other, especially with Richas.

But at the end of the day when they hang out together it's not just qBad and Richarlyson, it's also Ricardão & ccBad who have spent a frankly ridiculous amount of hours playing together in the less than a year they've known each other (not counting the time Ricardão admitted to being a fan of BBH for).

In fact Ricardão confirmed to Foolish today that since the reset they're the player with the second highest playtime, after Bad, but only by a little bit, and I just think that's very fitting.

Long story short, I LOVE the late night trio and Bad's dynamic because they're just such a chaotic mess who are all willing to do anything and everything that one of them wants to do, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.

It's soooooooo hard to believe they've not even known each other for a year yet because they just all click so fucking well that it's insane.

People from 4 different nationalities, 3 of them playing speechless eggs, and they've become so close thanks to this server. I just think it's beautiful :')

(It is also 3am so I may just be rambling nonsense, so if this makes no sense forgive me xD)

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 民国奇探/My Roommate is a Detective.

My Roommate is a Detective is a 2020 drama about the Jazz Age shenanigans of a terrible OT3: a useless noodle boy, a spoiled journalist girl, and a handsome thug-turned-cop, who together solve Agatha Christie mysteries in 1920s Shanghai.

I mean, seriously, have you ever wondered what Hercule Poirot would be like if he were a 6'2" Chinese rubber man? If he had a long-suffering sugar daddy from the wrong side of the tracks and a spunky sugar mommy who owned their shared apartment? The answer is, it would be a laugh-out-loud-funny series about a ridiculous and charming assortment of weirdos solving only slightly believable murder mysteries in charming period clothing.

This is another one of those shows where I'm kind of shocked at how not well-known it is, except I'm not, because I can see exactly the problems that keep fandom from descending on it like horny little vultures. Nonetheless, I think it's a good time that more people would enjoy if they gave it the chance. Here's five reasons why you should:

1. Equal parts smart as heck and dumb as butts

On the one hand, especially given its tone and tenor, this show has many surprisingly clever turns and thoughtful moments, carried along by some talented actors. On the other hand, [.gif of a guinea pig in a rollerskate being pushed merrily down a hallway]

This show is not a complicated intellectual exercise. It's an action comedy about a goofy sleuth, a rich-girl reporter, and the cop who should be the straight man in this trio, except he's as much of a goober as the other two are. If the promotional tableaus are giving you real "cover of a Clue box" vibes, you've understood the kind of pastiche it's pulling off.

The mysteries are preposterous. They're all the kind of thing that exemplify the Doyle line about how, when you've eliminated the impossible, whatever's left has got to be the answer, no matter how ding-dang improbable it may be. You know the type: tons of overly elaborate setups, unbelievably perfect timing, coincidental long-lost relatives, people hallucinating right and left. They're also very short -- most full cases take only 2-3 episodes to introduce, investigate, and resolve, even when interspersed with the larger goings-on in these weirdos' lives. The DramaWiki page for the show lists 23 separate arcs over 36 episodes, so you do the math.

And yet, it's way more thoughtful and clever than its doofy little setup would indicate. Its attention to detail surprised me on more than one occasion. Add to that a bunch of solid performances from an ensemble of real characters, and what you get is definitely more substantive than a junk-food waste of time. You can't turn your brain off while watching it, but you sure can turn it down, and that's great.

It also doesn't hurt that everyone is super attractive and wearing great outfits. The whole show's worth it for the wardrobes.

2. THE GIRL

Fuck the haters, fuck everyone, I am going to climb right up on my little soapbox and tell you all why Bai Youning is awesome.

She is insane. She's a troll. She's a clever little monster. Every other character's response to her is, oh my god, you are literally the worst. And she is! She has been spoiled beyond belief by her incredibly rich Crime Dad, and she has learned to leverage her uwu just a widdle girl status to get her whatever the hell she wants. She simply cannot hear it when someone says the word "no." She will look her future sister-in-law in the eye and point a loaded gun at her own head without blinking. Every ball she has is made of brass.

She's hardly perfect. During the course of the show, there are some times where her entitlement runs face-first into the brick wall of reality. She's not nearly as good at her chosen career path as she's been told (mostly by the people who get paid to tell her she's good). She's rarely prepared to deal with the consequences of her actions, especially when she can't just throw money at the problem.

So she learns, and grows, and changes. She's always going to be a stubborn bitch, but she can become a stubborn bitch with a more accurate conception of her relationship to the world around her.

She's actually a really good romantic foil for Lu Yao, who is equally stubborn and spoiled and obnoxious as hell. It is a pure brat4brat relationship, where each one thrives on comically enraging the other. What this means, though, is that when they actually start showing one another some vulnerability, it's really sweet.

Now: I'm pretty sure that you could not have made a female character in her position that everyone did not hate, no matter how cool you made her, because that is the fate of all girls who theoretically keep the two boys from kissing. (More on that next point.) If she were less outgoing and friendly, she would've been hated for being too cold. If she were less headstrong, she would've been hated for being a pushover. If she weren't as into the boy, she would've been hated for being frigid. I know the "god forbid a woman do anything" meme is a joke, but ... man, god forbid this girl do anything. She gets a level of hate entirely disproportionate to what she's actually like. As I said with Eom Dada, it's not always sexism, but sometimes, yeah, it's sexism.

(Real talk: Her character is also fighting both how she's definitely not written as well as the boys are and how the plot sometimes needs her to be artificially stupid and jealous for Straightness Drama Reasons, so that's a legit problem on a structural level. Also, she's dubbed by someone else and the boys aren't, which gives her voice an annoying not-quite-there quality that's hard to ignore. The deck is stacked against her real hard even before she steps onscreen.)

So here's my advice: Go into this show wanting to like her. Embrace her terribleness as a positive, intentional quality. Don't be mad at her for straightening up an endgame that was never going to be gay, even without her. Welcome her contributions to the chaos. Realize that she is exactly as entertainingly irritating as her boys are.

Truly, this is a story of three terrible people in love. They're all just awful, and you wouldn't want to be in a room with any of them for longer than you had to. Left to right up there, Bai Youning is spoiled and self-absorbed, Lu Yao is arrogant and lazy, and Qiao Chusheng is suuuuuch a fucking cop. If you're into the kind of dynamic that can only be described OT3: You All Deserve One Another, then this one's perfect for you.

3. Do you really miss '00s queerbaiting?

Like, really? Are you just super-nostalgic for being able to see the showrunners go, ha ha, girls, we know you're watching and we know you want these cute boys to kiss, which they never will -- but what if we pretended for just this one scene??? Do you just carnally ache for that with every fiber of your being?

Yep.

Now, why am I calling the occasional really gay moments between these two gentlemen "queerbaiting" and not "bromance"? Because these moments are a) obviously intentional, b) completely sporadic, and c) never spoken of again.

For example: There's a scene (which you can see a gifset of here) where the two of them are at a restaurant frequented by the cop, who brings a lot of ladies there on dates. When the waiter points this out, useless noodle boy says, I'm his date. The waiter looks mildly surprised by this, the cop says not to listen to his bullshit, and that's the end of it. The scene moves on. There is no further discussion of this comment. It does not affect their relationship.

That's the essence of queerbaiting: that little on-purpose nod to the homoerotic tension between the two, in a way that isn't a joke but also isn't not a joke, and either way is never going to happen. (In fact, the show is going to go out of its way to make sure that ship gets sunk, so, uh, get your fanfiction lifeboats ready for that.)

A true queerbaiting move is something that should make a difference in a relationship, but doesn't. It should make a difference that our cop is so comfortable in the noodle boy's personal space that he invades it at will. It doesn't. It should make a difference that noodle boy keeps getting real weird every time the cop has a date with a girl. It doesn't. Those are some real romantic moves the two of them keep pulling, and then nothing comes of them.

I had this show sold to me as being incredibly shippy, to the point of being even more so than its censored-BL contemporaries. And ... well, it is and it isn't. It has textually gayer individual moments, but it is much less pervasively gay. It's clear from the start that it's going to throw all its actual relationship points into its canon het romance. When it comes to these boys, the show is toying with you. It knows you want to see those boys smooch, just as much as it knows (and it knows you know) they're never gonna.

How you feel about this is entirely up to you -- and indeed, it may be a dealbreaker on the whole drama for you. If you are inclined to pitch a fit when your ship does not become canon, you'll be happier somewhere else. If, however, you see this as a delightful opportunity to do whatever the hell you want with the situation as it is presented, all the while enjoying little moments of startlingly blatant homoeroticism between two handsome dudes, well, here you are!

(I mean, if you want my take on it, what needs to happen is that the cop and the girl need to fuck while the useless noodle boy watches with asexual bisexual interest, and then they all need to snuggle with the noodle boy in the middle so they can both annoy him appropriately, but your mileage may vary.)

4. The multicultural extravaganza!

1920s Shanghai had a lot going on in terms of cultures and languages, and this show actually does a fair job of representing that.

By now, I've seen a number of shows set during this era, and they all at least acknowledge the international nature of the city -- usually by mentioning the French Concession and having a handful of evil Japanese characters. However, this is the first time I've seen a show go to such lengths to actually show so many non-Chinese characters onscreen, even to the point of making one a recurring character supporting the main squad.

Salim is the best. Whatever he is being paid, it's not enough. He's Qiao Chusheng's right-hand man, which means he is also the dude who most often has to put up the main trio's bullshit. (The actor himself is also a dude with a pretty cool backstory, which is another great layer.) He's sharp, he's loyal, he's patient, and he looks great with his shirt off. He's got it all!

Other non-Chinese characters include a white Jewish art collector (I'd issue a warning for period-typical antisemitism, except … honestly, it's mostly just confused), a sadistic priest who maybe is supposed to be Italian, a completely different priest who [last episode spoiler], and three whole sinister white dudes behind it all.

It's not just the world coming to China, though! A large number of the Chinese characters are said to have spent significant time outside of China, whether for business or for schooling. Near the end, when some characters are discussing moving away from Shanghai, they consider a number of foreign cities as potential destinations.

Here's a delightful detail: When Lu Yao and his sister speak English, they're dubbed by actors with posh British accents who sound like native (or near-native) English-speakers. This makes perfect sense, because both of the siblings did a lot of their schooling in the UK. When Bai Youning speaks English, she's dubbed by someone who speaks English very well but also has a noticeable Chinese accent, which makes perfect sense for her character's background. And Qiao Chusheng never speaks English at all, because he's a street tough who has no reason to know more than three words.

...This is also kind of weird to say about something literally made in China, but go with me on it: Everything's kind of got that Art Deco Orientalist vibe to it. It looks like China's idea of what Britain's idea of China during that period would have looked like. The result comes across less like what 1920s Shanghai would actually have looked like, and more what an ad for 1920s Shanghai would have looked like. It's a fascinating aesthetic, and more so for how it's mostly pretty subtle. The show isn't some visual extravaganza, but it's always very nice to look at, and I appreciate that in a show.

5. A wonderful horrible protagonist

A lot of mystery-themed prestige television involves an asshole genius detective who gets away with being a dick to everyone because he's sooooo smart, while all his long-suffering friends and colleagues spend a lot of time doing damage control for him because, sigh, he's an asshole but we need him, genius excuses all dickhead behavior, we'll always make exceptions for him because he's just ever so special. (Watch histrionic sage hbomberguy's video on Sherlock if you're unfamiliar with the trope.)

Lu Yao is an asshole genius detective, but one who winds up spending most of his time being an asshole to a) people who deserve it, or b) his horrible friends who will be assholes right back at him. When he is awful to the people who don't deserve it, the show smacks him pretty hard on the nose for it and makes him apologize.

This is a show where you'll figure out pretty quckly if you'll love it or hate it, because if you love Lu Yao, you'll love it, and vice versa. He carries most of the show himself, with his goofy charm and his incredibly bendy slenderman body and his ability to make the one competent person he knows both protect him and give him money.

Like so.

For my own part, I find him intensely charming, and I think a lot of this has to do with Hu Yitian's ability to play him as an affectionately bullyable weenie who needs to get shoved in a locker for his own good. He's the worst, and it's comically endearing instead of offputting because at the end of the day, he really does have a good heart. He's just also lazy as heck and disinclined to do anything that he does not want to be doing, and really, aren't we all?

As I alluded to in point 3, he comes across as real asexual. He's just not that interested in sex, and he is in fact pretty uncomfortable in situations where he finds himself the subject of someone else's sexual desires. He's perfectly capable of romantic feelings! I mean, not only does he get Bai Youning as a love interest, we actually meet one of his ex-girlfriends. He's just not partciularly horny about them -- which is even more noticeable as a sharp contrast to how extremely horny Qiao Chusheng is for just about everyone, but this exasperating little dork in particular.

(Like seriously, 90% of the time, Chusheng is about to explode with sexual frustration at Lu Yao's skinny oblivious ass.)

This isn't to say you couldn't get Lu Yao into bed, because you absolutely could, and he'd probably have a good time. You'd just have to remove all distractions from the room, lest his ADHD ass wind up running off to solve a crime mid-coitus.

Twiggy little nightmare man. Garbage-animal boy. Love him.

sidebar: A word about the ending

I'm going to be vague and talk about general vibes instead of specific events, but you should still skip this section if you want to remain completely unspoiled. Jump to the picture of Chusheng holding the sledgehammer.

Okay, so, a lot of people do not like the ending, and I'm including myself in that number. I honestly don't know if they got rushed and had to wrap everything pretty last-minute, or if they thought they might get a second season out of it and were leaving things open-ended accordingly. Either way, it's incredibly unsatisfying.

I think there's a clue that the show didn't actually want to end this way, and it's not actually in the text of the show itself. Every episode, between the last scene and the start of the credits, you get to see a couple still frames from the episode (usually some of the queerbaity ones). After the very final shot of the series, you get two images: the boys hugging goodbye, and Chusheng's upset face. That's not a resolution! That is at best a "to be continued..." ending!

But no, that's it. That's all, folks.

It's not quite an ending so bad it ruins the rest of the show, mostly because it doesn't feel finished, so it's less like you're watching a car being deliberately driven into a wall because someone thought that was the best route to take, and more like you're watching someone leave a car on the railroad tracks because they figured they'd have time to move it later.

As far as I know, there has been no noise made about a second season. These 36 episodes are the entirety of the narrative. It had the distinct misfortune to start airing in March 2020, which wasn't exactly prime time for planning sequels, and that seems to have been that. (There is a 2022 show called Checkmate that stars the two main guys in extremely similar roles, also adapting Agatha Christie stories, but it's apparently pretty meh? Somebody else who's actually seen it, go ahead and weigh in here.)

I'll say that if you turn off the episode right after Lu Yao gets out the handcuffs, you'll save yourself the worst of it the awkward and unsatisfying moments (though I'm impressed at your willpower to stop watching something five minutes from the end). That's not all of it, though. Structurally, there are several situations rushed to a resolution and loose threads left flapping untied in the breeze. I guess stopping before the last five minutes simply saves you the hope that it'll pull a good ending out of the fire, because it won't.

And let's be real: The more you hate Bai Youning and her romance with Lu Yao, the more you'll hate the ending. (Not that liking those elements will necessarily make you like the ending, of course, because I'm a fan of hers and I still think the ending is butts.) The ending is already like a pair of uncomfortable shoes; if the het romance especially makes you grind your teeth, the ending becomes a pair of uncomfortable shoes that also have a rock in them. A lot of the comments online indicate plenty of people dropped the show when they learned the het romance would be endgame. It's a pretty common dealbreaker.

Oh well. Bring on the fanfic, I say! Those of us who are used to taking a sledgehammer to canon are unafraid.

Smash it, baby.

Still want to see some of these mysteries?

Both iQiyi and Viki have the answer to your sleuthing!

It's not a perfect show -- as evidenced by my digression about the ending -- but it's a lot of fun. If you can handle the occasional foible and some eyebrow-raising moments, you're in for a good time with some attractive people that occasionally tastes very gay.

Every roommate crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man

[drpeppertummy]

finally fed max after saying i was gonna like 84 years ago. very mild forgive me the next one will be more thrilling

[very mild hunger, very mild stuffing]

"Look at you, with your little summer tummy," Marsha giggled, slipping her arms around Max's waist from behind. The summer tummy was a rare sight. It only began to show up around July, and it was typically gone not long after the beginning of September. It was small, just barely enough to it for it to poke out against his shirt, but it was there: a tiny little pooch of proof that Max was, for a few months, relaxed enough to eat regularly. Right now it was particularly visible, peeking out ever so slightly beneath the hem of the little tank top that he usually only wore to bed.

"I bet we could get you lookin' nice and solid if you got yourself a new job," said Alfie. "Get a nice sit-down job, you'd get a good belly on you."

"Oh, please," grinned Max, rolling his eyes. "I have a sit-down job, they just don't let me sit down for it." He went on chopping vegetables, trying not to squirm at the tickly sensation of Marsha kneading that tiny bit of softness. Finally, he stopped and turned around in her arms.

"You are gonna make me chop my fingers off," he said, hugging her tight. He rested his chin atop her head. Alfie bumped him aside with his hip and took over the chopping.

"Hey, lovebirds, you're slackin' off."

"Hey, lovebird yourself. C'mere and gimme a kiss," said Max, leaning down to give Alfie a peck on the cheek. Alfie set down the knife and threw his arms around Max, pulling him down for a kiss and nearly toppling both him and Marsha over in the process.

"Alfie, you ape," exclaimed Marsha, laughing. Alfie leaned in and gave her a kiss too before releasing them. As he did, Max's belly rumbled softly. Alfie smiled and patted it.

"Come on, let's get this shit in the oven," he said, dumping the vegetables in the pan.

Together, the trio made an attractive dinner of roasted chicken and vegetables, primarily carrots and potatoes, laid out comfortably on each plate over a bed of rice. Marsha dished out the portions evenly while Max set the table and Alfie wiped down the counter. Three Marsha-sized portions meant, of course, that Max's was a hair too big for his appetite and Alfie's was a hair too small, but that was alright. There was plenty left in the pan, and Alfie could dip into it for seconds if finishing off Max's leftovers still failed to fill his bottomless stomach.

Max was hungrier than he'd thought. He'd eaten lunch earlier than usual that day, then spent a long afternoon straightening up the house, not that he ever let it get particularly un-straightened. Still, after hours of dusting, sweeping, and vacuuming, his stomach was growling eagerly for a bite of hot food, and he happily dug in. The tender chicken and flavorful vegetables were a welcome guest in his watering mouth, and even more welcome in his hungry belly.

"I may have put a little too much on your plate," said Marsha. "Although, who knows, maybe you've got room in there." She gave Max a friendly poke in the tummy.

"I don't know, that thing's pretty small," said Alfie with an impish smile. Max gave him a look of playful annoyance. "Hey, we'll work on it! Go on, get eating, we'll have you fattened up in no time." Max rolled his eyes and scooped up another forkful of rice.

It didn't take long for Max's hunger to be sated--he was never a big eater, after all--but he still had food on his plate and some space in his stomach, his capacity improved by eating more regularly than he did during the school year. Still enjoying the tasty homemade dinner, he went on eating where he might ordinarily have had to call it quits. He felt pleasantly full, and while there was a vague snugness blooming in his tummy, discomfort was not yet on the horizon.

"Hey, you're really going at it," remarked Marsha, impressed. "I didn't think you'd be able to finish that much!"

"Well, I know a couple of good cooks, and they make it hard to quit," said Max. He was admittedly beginning to feel pretty full now, but there was only a little bit left on his plate. He paused for a moment, considering his belly. It felt tight, but not uncomfortable. He let a tiny bit of swallowed air rise up and silently escape, and then he scooped up another bite.

The last few bites were more difficult to put away than the rest had been. Space was limited now in Max's full tummy, and each bite made it feel just a little bit tighter. For a moment, he thought he wouldn't be able to finish after all, but, against all odds, he cleaned his plate.

"Hey, alright, Max!" Alfie gave him an approving thump on the back. It dislodged a sudden burp, and Max blushed, but Alfie just laughed.

Max didn't realize how much his belly was poking out until he stood up to clean. It was still smaller than both his partners' bellies even when they weren't full, but it was noticeable on his skinny frame, especially in his little tank top. There was more skin peeking out than there had been before, revealing a snug little bulge framed nicely between his hipbones. Marsha smiled and hugged him from behind, cupping his tummy in her hands. She was amused to find that some of the softness had been lost to the tautness of his full stomach.

"I can't believe you finished all that," she said, bumping her head against his shoulder. "You must be stuffed!"

"A little," he confessed. "It was good, though."

"Well, it makes me happy to see you eating more. You get so damn skinny during the school year!"

"I know, I know. I'll be better about it this year."

"Mm, I'll believe it when I see it," chuckled Marsha.

[hoodietypinggg]

Hybrid! Usami Tokishige x reader

A/N: Nothing solid, just a thought stuck in the empty echo-y space of my mind like a ball of wet toilet paper roll thrown up and stuck on the ceiling of your elementary school bathroom.

And I can't be the only clown who appreciates this cake endowed (Noda certified) hammer freak, hopefully this spreads to whichever GK fan who needs it.

Enjoy.

Tw: hints of yandere(???)/unhingedness but otherwise pretty fluff/nothing major

—

Usami Tokishige but he's a hare(?) hybrid, red eyes and two long black ears atop his head, standing at the edge of your backyard. Feral and looking like he just rolled around the forest grounds with all the twig snags and mud stains on his cheeks. But he doesn't move, unnerving stare fixed on you, the little human sitting in that little lawn chair of yours.

You with your hand still stuck in a little jar filled with nuts, feet slowly shrinking back to curl your knees up and make yourself more compact. Mouth slightly agape from shock, his nose twitches slightly as if senting the air like a dog. You frown. He's not a hound though?

Usami's clearly not what you've been anticipating, the tension in your posture displaying the confusion and blaring alarms sounding havoc in your mind. The tree shades keep him hidden quite well, you get a vague feeling of his stature, but with the breeze blowing through the branches and the glaring afternoon sun it's hard to get the full picture. Just those red eyes peeking at you. Squirrels whom you've prepared the nuts for dont have red pupils. Squirrels who regularly visit you aren't this tall. More importantly, squirrels from the forest behind your yard aren't hybrids.

Since the last crunch of his dirt crusted work boots, nobody has attempted to speak whatsoever. You aren't sure if he's predator or prey anymore, the unflinching stare he's got you locked in feels like the one of a hunter despite his hare features.

"... Haven't seen you around here before," his left ear visibly flinches at the sound of your voice.

Despite the initial reaction, he seems to take your announcement as a sign of peace offering and relaxes a bit, slowly lowering his arms to rest next to his sides. Usami also steps out from the tree lines, now standing next to the trio of gnomes that guard the edge of your yard. Pupils soften slightly. You unconsciously follow his blink with one of your own, only then acknowledging how dry your eyes have gone from keeping him in your field of vision.

The raised arms were not what made him big, you realize, Usami's built physique still peaked through his clothes even in the relaxed stance. Broad shoulders and a thick middle fill the shirt well, his cargo pants tucked into his boots but tight around his thighs. The muscles seem to be from physical labor, the kind that is less seen in hybrid physique competitions and more in the construction industry. Perhaps even in the wood industry, which is very possible considering the lush green forests expanding beyond mountains around you. It is unusual though for typically smaller hybrids to get assigned such work, but then again nothing about him aligned with the norm.

You can't determine what else is caked on the damaged dark shirt and cargo pants, but there's definitely something else on there, something that dries dark and not light shades like mud does. For the sake of your nerves right now though you choose to not think more and simply get up from your seat at a natural speed. He follows with his eyes, head tilting slightly.

"Wh- uh, why don't you come in and clean up while I go get the phone for you? Maybe contact someone you know, who uh, might be able to help you?" Usami easily spies the tremble of uncertainty in your hand as you loosely gesture at your back door.

He lets the silence linger for a little moment more, a small rumbly feeling in his chest forming with the way awkwardness creeps into your posture at his unresponsiveness.

Your other limp hand reaches for the hem of your shirt, fingers curling around the fabric as you fidget.

He's finding your reactions fun.

Maybe this is the feeling that Ogata was telling him about, predator watching the prey's cornered, nervous responses. It's hard to come by, what with him being typically surrounded by predator hybrids. And the fact that he is also technically considered prey type. Usami feels the corner of his mouth twitch up and pupils slightly dilate. He covers it by fully smiling, changing it for a friendlier smile and steps forward to follow you. It sends a dart of shiver down your back though, and something in the back of your mind is screaming.

You swallow the pinprick feeling of unease down your throat and turn to guide him. Too late to back out, you now have a guest to entertain.

He only followed his beloved boss Tsurumi into these backwoods because what Tsurumi says is what Usami does, not exactly in distaste like Koito but not beaming at the change like Tanigaki. However, it seems that the little wood mouse he's found today will be veering their stay in this area towards something a bit more memorable.

[malleux]

freedom. | quest for tyr [III]

[main page] | [t.o.c] | [spellbook] | [ << | >> ]

young adult!atreus x reader

-> synopsis: The only times you had ever experienced adventure was through your books. It was hard to live an exciting life while trapped in Alfheim.

You know you're meant for something greater than wasting away underground.

[loosely based on the events of Gow: Ragnarok]

-> chapter warnings: all chapters contain spoilers, cursing, anxiety, vomit mention, fighting, fight scene not accurate to canon, blood, injuries, trauma mention

The day before was nothing compared to the pain you were in today. 

Just opening your eyes was a task that seemed to take all of your energy, and your body was so stiff that the smallest movements hurt. Breathing, speaking, literally anything seemed impossible as you slowly sat up the next morning. 

Atreus was by your side the second he heard you curse under your breath, gently helping you up and handing you a plate of whatever leftovers were scavengable from the night before. You ate slowly, listening to him, Kratos, and Mimir formulate a plan for the day. 

"Earlier, I saw a mine down below, and Mimir saw tracks to another train we could take down there. Hopefully it'll be just as safe as the last one," Atreus smiled at you reassuringly during his last sentence, remembering how much you hated them.

You pursed your lips and side-eyed him. You were appreciative of the gesture, really, but heights just really weren't your thing and an old contraption that had your death written all over it didn't help.

You didn't take long to get back to traveling. You didn't feel like holding the trio back from anything they wanted to get done just because you were a little hurt. You could grin and bear it. 

The pain was almost worth it as you saw more pretty views on the mountain top. 

"Father..." Atreus interrupted the peaceful silence. "What if a war with Odin isn't just Tyr's to fight? What if it's ours too?" 

"War is not the only way." Kratos responded. 

"But we're gods. Better gods. We're trying to stop Ragnarok, to help people, and what if the only way to do that is war?" 

"Atreus." 

"I'm just not sure we should immediately jump to that conclusion." You said a bit nervously, "My home was— and still is— torn apart by war. It's not something you really want, especially when you've experienced it."

"Wh— I thought you were on my side!" Atreus whined, turning to you as he continued to walk backwards. 

"I'm on your side with stopping Ragnarok." You shrugged, "I just really, really want to look for any way that doesn't involve war. It's not fun." 

Atreus continued to argue with you as you came upon the rest of the train tracks, but you knew it wasn't a serious thing. He had a playful glint in his eyes— one he had often when he decided to mess around with people. 

You watched in almost awe as Kratos lifted the train and realigned it on the tracks. It amazed you how he barely broke a sweat— he must have been an incredibly strong god. 

Atreus was the first in. Then Kratos and Mimir. 

They looked at you expectantly and you shuffled your feet, looking to find a solid way up into the creaky, wooden cart. You really, really didn't want to go in. 

A hand appeared in front of your face. 

"Here," Atreus helped hoist you up, keeping you steady as the train car squeaked once more under the added weight. He remembered your apprehension and patted your shoulder. "We'll be fine. We don't have much farther to go now." 

"The Kraken hatchling gave you a stone." Kratos pointed out as the train began moving. His voice was a good distraction from your incessant urge to look out the window and scare yourself even more. 

"The Kraken...? Oh, Dinner. Yeah, it's covered in algae. I was thinking we could show it to Brok and Sindri when we got back. Here." Atreus tossed it to his father, who pocketed the stone. "Okay, we came looking for Tyr because we don't trust Odin, right? If you think about it, war could— uh oh—"

The train became shakier and shakier, it's noisy wheels creaking even louder. You stand up in a panic, frantically looking over at your companions, but they look just as confused. 

A creature— a Grim, you recalled— grabbed onto the window ledge closest to Kratos, trying to scratch its way inside. Kratos quickly punched it and sent it flying, but there wasn't much time until another Grim appeared in its place. 

You swallowed your nerves and raised your spear, using the butt of it to knock out a Grim from the window on the other side. 

"Skjalfa!" You cried, sending them out just as quickly as they were coming in. You wanted nothing more than to use your favorite little fire spell, but with a wooden train like this you knew you'd probably set it on fire too. 

"Atreus, look for a brake to stop the train!" Mimir called out, "Should be a lever of some sort!"

"I found it— but it's stuck!" 

"Try harder!" You shook out your hand as you hit a Grim that had actually made it through the window. You grabbed it and threw it back out, hitting two others that threatened to enter and sending them all back. 

"I'm trying! But— it's—" 

The lever broke in two. The handle flew out of the window you were guarding. 

You all could only stare at each other for a moment before the train began to fall— the one thing you prayed to the Nords wouldn't happen. 

"Shit." Atreus grabbed your arm and pulled you between him and Kratos, presumably to shield your fall or protect you from the rest of the Grim. "Shitshitshitshitshit—"

"Ow!" You yelped as you hit the ground. 

Kratos was up before you could even fathom what was going on. He pried at the opening at the top of the train, climbing out and yelling out a rough "Get up!" before taking out his axe and disappearing from your sight. 

He reached back down once he returned, grabbing both you and Atreus and setting you down on top of the cart. You were definitely put down more gently than Atreus, but you wouldn't point that out. 

"I can't believe we surv— are you serious?" Atreus was frustrated now, more Grim coming from seemingly out of nowhere to attack you. 

You whipped around to survey your surroundings, choosing to stay further away from the heat of the fight. The headless troll that laid to your right told you what Kratos had done earlier, and you silently thanked him for making things easier. 

You pointed your spear at Grim that tried to tag-team Kratos or Atreus, choosing to save your magic energy and use some Dark Elf skills. An energy beam shot out from the tip of your spear, slicing the unsuspecting Grim in two. 

This continued for only a few moments longer, then you finally could drop your weapon. You still held onto it tightly, though, still on guard. You jumped down to rejoin everyone. 

"That was crazy." Atreus breathed out. 

"You said it, little brother." 

"That was awful." You shuddered. "I hate heights. I also now hate trains. I knew something was going to happen." 

"You jinxed us, then!" Atreus teased, "You can't sit there and think bad thoughts and then expect good things to come. You gotta look on the bright side." 

"I didn't jinx shit." You mumbled, watching as Kratos looked around for where to go next. "I was looking on the bright side. I felt like I was going to pass out, and if I was unconscious at least I wouldn't feel it when I died." 

"That's— that is not what I meant. Just, come on, I think Father found something." 

It was a small crawl space, which all things considered could be either better or worse than falling off of the side of a mountain on a train. 

Atreus went first, then you, followed by Kratos. You noticed he always took up the back— probably to protect you both from whatever may sneak up behind. Smart. 

"Quite the mouth you had back there, lad." Mimir broke the silence. 

"It's just a word." Atreus rolled his eyes. "I've heard way worse from Br-"

"The word does not matter. You lost control." Kratos reprimanded. His voice was always stern, but this held an even harsher tone. 

"We were falling. Through the air." Atreus defended, "I thought we were gonna die." He gestured to you, "She says it all the time!"

"She was not raised the same way you were. What is acceptable for her is different from you. Is that truly what you wish your last words to be?"

You were glad that was Kratos's view, because the second Atreus brought you into it your heart seized. You did not want to get scolded by Kratos. 

"No." Atreus gave up arguing. You thought that was a wise choice. 

"In moments of crisis, panic does nothing. Harness it. Let it serve you." 

You let his words sink in as you came across another area, this time finally in the open. You kind of wanted to laugh— Kratos wasn't even talking to you, and yet you held onto his words more than you'd ever held onto your own father's. Kratos had a lot of wisdom, but Atreus wouldn't heed it. 

You figured it just be a father-child thing for you and Atreus to never listen. 

"What is this?" You looked around the area in a bit of awe, taking in the wooden structures and water wheels around you. 

"The Jarnsmida Pitmines, lass." Mimir answered joyfully, as if he was reminiscing on something. Probably some memories that he has in that infinite brain of his. 

"Look on the ground. Tracks." Atreus pointed out, "They must lead into the mines." 

"And what exactly is in these mines?" You stood beside him, eyeing Kratos once more as he studied the area. It seemed like every place you went to had some gods-awful puzzle just to make it through and it made your brain hurt. 

"Hopefully Tyr." He smiled at you, and you pursed your lips into a half-smile in return. Your adrenaline was wearing off and the impact from the train crash made your injuries from the Dreki feel brand new again. 

You took a deep breath, only being able to inhale so deeply, and nodded. "Hopefully. I just want him to be here and us not just find another clue and be on a wild goose chase." 

"This is a super prominent mine, I'm pretty sure. If he's anywhere in Svartalfheim, he's gotta be here." 

Atreus's words did little to comfort you, but you couldn't say much as Kratos summoned him to help with a mechanism to open the mine. 

You reached into your pocket and toyed with a piece of paper— the one Sindri gave to you before you left. You didn't have time to read the rest of the spells he had written down for you, so you pulled it out to scan over it. 

You already knew the three first ones, even if you hadn't gotten to use most of them yet: 'Logi: fire. Sverð: sword. Verja: defend.'

Turning the paper over, you saw three more spells written down in neat handwriting— characteristic of Sindri. 

'Iss: ice. Kanna: search. Ausa: water.' 

You hummed. One of these spells was not like the other. Every one of them seemed self-explanatory, except for Kanna. What could it mean to search? Would it help you find something? 

Folding the paper back in your pocket, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You felt like you'd have to have an idea of what you were trying to search for, so you sent your intentions to something simple. 

You'd ask for it to find anything with magic in it. 

"Kanna."

You waited for a second. You waited for something— a feeling, a voice, a tug, anything. Assuming nothing had changed or you'd done the spell wrong, you opened your eyes only to gasp out loud. 

Everything around you was covered in a very, very translucent light blue. You looked around— the weapons on Kratos's back glowed a bright blue, much more opaque and noticeable than the blue that spanned the rest of the terrain. Your own spear emitted the same light, as did the palms of your hands where you felt the burn when you did your fire spell. 

Atreus's bow was blue, and so was Mimir's head. Small rocks that blocked entrances glowed as well— rocks that you or Atreus could easily use Skjálfa to destroy.

Ah. Kanna did work.

And from the way Kratos, Mimir, nor Atreus said anything about the sudden shift in color from the original terrain, you could assume you were the only one seeing it. 

You whispered the spell under your breath again and slowly, the blue hue faded from your vision. The mines were restored to their normal, dull brown color. 

'Kanna.' 

Your intention this time included living things— bugs, monsters, whatever. 

The blue crept back into your vision like a rapid flood, but this time the brights were different. You could see Kratos and Atreus shining brightly as they worked together. Mimir's blue flickered a bit, but it made sense. Was the decapitated cursed head really alive? 

You could see little glowing dots shining through rocks like x-rays, showing you where all the little bugs hid underneath. 

More brights caught your eye as they moved towards Kratos and Atreus. 

"Guys, watch out!" You called, "Logi!" 

Fire erupted from below the feet of the monsters. You were able to see them easily with how they shined against the rest of the area. 

You were aware of many more, but this was starting to hurt your eyes. You turned off the spell and rubbed your eyes. They felt sore— sunken in deep and dryer than usual. You'd definitely have to use this sparingly, or risk a massive headache.

Kratos and Atreus quickly took out the few Wretches that threatened them and as soon as it began, it was over. 

The three of you— plus Mimir, but you really couldn't figure out if he counted as a full person or not— stood in front of a crane, watching water flow through it. A large wooden box blocked your path to the next ledge of land. Your hands were on your hips and nobody spoke, trying to find something to help you get across. 

"Looks like the water powers the crane that's keeping the cargo up." Atreus pointed out. 

"Think freezing it could stop the water?" Mimir suggested. 

You quickly held out your hand, aiming it near the end of the crane where the water flowed out. "Iss!"

Ice crystallized in the middle of the flow, encompassing part of the crane in cold fractals. The water built up on the other side of the crane and began to pour out of one of the sides, effectively stopping the flow from hitting the water wheel that was beneath it. The cargo box lowered and you made your way across.

"When did you learn that trick?" Atreus asked as you continued to push forward, coming across the next stupid little platform of puzzles. 

You shrugged. "Just got a little help from some people." 

"Atreus, Y/n, come."

You headed towards Kratos, who assumed a squatting position near the next contraption you came across. Atreus automatically stepped into his hands and was hoisted up onto the wood, and then it was your turn. You assumed he wanted you to do the same, so you quickly followed and hoisted yourself the rest of the way up. 

You explored the area for a minute, Atreus straying away from you for a second before he spoke up. "Father, there's a gate up here heading towards the entrance to the mine. If you can get up here, we'll need your help lifting it." 

"If..." Kratos mumbled under his breath.

"Oh come on, you can jump that! Your knees aren't that bad."

"Atreus." Kratos warned. He used his axe to freeze a water flow that was causing a platform to move unstably and jumped across. 

"I hope you can make that jump!" Atreus joked again and you elbowed him in the side. "Hey!"

"Give the man a break." You laughed. 

Kratos soon joined you both and you headed towards the entrance of the mine. It was covered in debris and a gate that seemed quite heavy. Atreus was right about needing Kratos's help. 

"I sure hope Tyr is here..." He mumbled. 

"Atreus, we seek information." Kratos reminded him. Atreus rolled his eyes. 

"I know. Stop acting like I'm trying to start a war."

"Yet you do not say otherwise--"

"Brothers, maybe we can lay this to rest a bit, eh?"

You were thankful for Mimir's interjection. It was always awkward to be in a a group with two people arguing, but it felt a bit more powerful between Kratos and Atreus. They were both very prominent, strong presences and you knew enough about them already to know that neither of them were likely to back down should the conversation get more heated. 

Kratos was right-- you didn't want to start a war. Atreus had told you numerous times that war wasn't his intention, but once more Kratos seemed right to you. He wasn't denouncing it very hard. He may be against the idea of a war, but he wasn't taking many precautions to truly prevent it.

You continued on in silence, helping out if needed but mostly staying in the back. This wasn't your journey— you were just lucky enough to be allowed to tag along. You did what you were asked, including helping Atreus push back a cart that blocked the way to the mine, finally revealing the rest of the entrance and—

"Sindri?" 

The dwarf waved awkwardly, as if he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere for the second time in Svartalfheim. "Got something else for you." He waited until you all were near to continue. "Since you're currently lacking a light source--sorry-- and have no way of seeing exactly what untold horrors lurk in the dark, these will help."

"Thanks for making me feel better." You mumbled under your breath. Sindri gave you an apologetic look before pulling out three... things. 

"Okay, back to your exploring now. Off with you."

"Thanks Sindri," Atreus commented, "What, uh, do you mean by untold horrors?"

You were wondering the same thing, but Sindri gave no answer. You all put away the light sources that he had given you and turned back to where the dwarf stood, but he was nowhere to be found. 

"How does he do that?" You tilted your head. 

"No idea." Atreus sighed, but then turned to you and grinned. "Let's get going. It looks like the actual entrance to the mine is blocked, but there's gotta be another away."

"This way." Kratos began moving. 

"Nice. Not a dead end. Let's see where this goes."

You jumped down from a ledge into a deep pit-like area. A few Wretches came from the shadows, but you all were able to quickly cut them down. They were nothing more than a nuisance now-- this weird lizard things were so annoying. 

Atreus used his bow's sonic vibrations to break a few rocks to reveal a crawlspace. You internally cringed at the tight quarters. After being locked up your whole life, you didn't necessarily want to be trapped again in something even smaller. Nevertheless, you followed after Atreus with Kratos once again taking up the back. 

"It certainly smells like we're headed into a mine." Mimir piped up. 

"I think I can hear the water too."

"Slow down, Atreus. Take care. Be ready."

If Kratos had a bad feeling, then you did too. Especially once you heard the loud, gurgling roar of a monster when you crawled out of the space. The area you were in now was rather open and spacious, save for the pillar in the middle, the numerous Wretches that seemed to swarm around your feet, and the giant... creature across the room that grew angrier by the second. 

"What the Hel that?" You grabbed your spear and held it across your front. 

"It's called a Bergsra." Mimir answered, his voice echoing through the cavern as Kratos took out a few Wretches. 

"Its like the Grim if Thor decided to procreate with them." You huffed, kicking a Wretch that decided to bite your ankle. "Ugly and huge."

The Bergsra did not like your analogy and yelled out loud enough to shake the cavern walls. You watched as Kratos landed his first hit against it, and decided to join in on the fun. You ran towards it while Kratos distracted it, but you must have severely pissed it off when you called it an offspring of Thor. The Bergsra turned toward you and knocked its head back, lurching a giant green blob out of its mouth in your direction. 

"Verja!" You quickly yelled out. Defend. 

Light emitted from your non-dominant arm-- the one that wasn't holding your spear-- and you instinctually held it up as the blob came closer. It didn't hit you, instead exploding across the large bronze shield you had managed to conjure. 

You looked at your arm in surprise. In hindsight, Verja was a lot more self-explanatory than you'd expected. Especially considering the spell next to it-- Sverð-- was literally sword. 

Another green blob was coming your way. Kratos had been knocked back for a second and Atreus was attacking from long distance, so the Bergsra's attention was once more turned towards you. In a split decision, you rushed towards the creature and it's blob, using your shield to hit the poison back at it. It hit the Bergsra in the face and it roared out in pain, clawing at its face. 

Kratos was back up and threw his blades towards the Bergsra's back. They latched on and he propelled himself forward, kicking it down and landing on top of it. Using his bare hands, Kratos grabbed the head of the monster and twisted. It came off in a loud, gruesome snap and you had to look away from the scene just to keep your breakfast. 

The Wretches stopped attacking as the Bergsra was killed and crawled back into the little nooks and crannies that they came from. And it was over. 

"Ugh, the smell these things leave behind is so gross." Atreus groaned.

"A small consequence for disturbing their home." Kratos replied. You tilted your head at how he almost  humanized them. 

"...Let's keep moving."

[subway-boss-jericho]

(same anon that threatened you with art)

legally required to tell you which ones I like- understood. Namely it’s steady tracks (bc I’ve actually had a wip drawing of that for uh *checks files* a… year? And a half?) bc I freaking Love It when the twins become Creature.

by extension that means I adore comebee ingo and emmet and the fossil au and spirit keeper.

those are! The main ones but I really like a Whole Lot of ‘em. Very few will be spared in my (eventual) rampage

whoa epic awesome cool wicked thesaurus.com synonym for great

Welcome to the steady tracks curse! you have it in your wips and then years go by! no one is spared, not even me! /lh

That's a great trio to follow up with though. Those four combined are barely similar /lh You've got the two pokemon AUs and the two ingos in the Oldest Guy Ever club. You love to see it.

But no seriously, this is a serious all star team of favorites. I haven't elaborated on a lot of them beyond the masterlist posts I made, which is super on me, but Steady Tracks, Combee AU and Spirit Keeper Ingo are three of my oldest AUs. By extensionm they're also the ones I am most emotionally attached to. I don't know what form/s it will come in, but spirit keeper and combees are DEFINITELY getting more stuff eventually. I just have to figure out. How. and what, and when.

Fossil AU is one of the ones I've had a while but only started developing more recently, so it's currently in my head all the time. I wish I could elaborate on it but unfortunately it is in the stage of mental illness where I have no idea how to talk about it or explain it to anyone outside of two (2) very close friends. that will absolutely fucking happen though i still stare at that drawing i made a few months ago with fossil ingo and little pearl. i'd fucking kill for little pearl so we're clear. I'm so unwell about fossil it's just in the intangible inexplicable kind of way currently

Downside of having all these AUs is that they all exist in different forms in my head. Spirit keeper is probably supposed to be a comic, but might also end up having longer fic-like sections. Combee AU i want to be a fic i think, but I haven't actually WRITTEN anything for it in SO long. it's gotten swept under the artistic rug in favor of silly doodles. Steady tracks is in eternal hell under the curse, as we all know (nodding sagely)((ITS GOING TO BE FUCKING FREE SOON SO HELP ME GOD)) and I'll be honest I haven't thought about fossil au long enough for it to have a solid medium, but i feel like looser doodle comics would be fun. Or maybe more Big Cool Artwork + smaller written thing. Unsure.

But like, god forbid we talk about Mecha AU or Coupled Uncoupled. The original timeline of the mecha au is an official pokemon animated feature-length movie in my head. I have since developed it in a different direction and I have no idea what the hell I'm gonna do with that. There may or may not be a fully 3D animated goodbye to a world animation for that in the next 3 years because i learned how to model and animate in blender and my power is now unlimited. Coupled (Uncoupled) is a series of Long Fics (like, steady tracks long) mixed with song animatics and animation memes. That thing is so not going to end up being told in the form it exists as in my brain. Many of the other aus are like this

Oh that was a Ramble:tm: my bad. All of this was to say hey, if you ever need a reference for steady tracks ingo, I'm trying to make a 3D model for him rn. It's currently being sidelined in favor of the chapter itself and a 2d artwork I'm doing, but some day he'll be Real. I've got everything modeled except for his legs (hell) and prat of his head (also hell but less) so that's at least something

I forgot where I was going with this. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to fuckin prattle. love prattling. in controlled environments

If you like it when there are Creatures, consider also checking out omgPMD AU and Take My Hand. Similar but slightly different concepts. I imagine you've probably already seen them but I figured i'd mention anyway

Thanks for chatting!! <3 <- i did most of the chatting via ramble but i still value you engaging with my work more than i can put into meaningful words

[ifyougochasingrabbits]

Tw: Death topic. Feat. Sieg + others.

Sieg looks incredulous! "Haaa? You can't really be that naive. You really think you'll never meet someone who doesn't think just kicking you on the floor is enough? Do you have a death wish?"

White stated rather blunt-like, not looking towards Romeo. "The dead can't fight."

"You'll be dead. And there's no principles or morals left to have when you're dead." Sieg shakes his head. "You must come from such a privileged life to believe the sort of nonsense you're spouting. I bet you've never had to do hard work a day in your life."

White mumbled, not at the trio. "The dead can't talk." Her gaze wandered a bit, off of Rumielle to... not really anything. Her hand on Sieg's arm flexed a little.

"People can be talked down, and outlasted, it's much easier to give into violence then it is to talk down and understand an enemy, I believe this fully, and you can call it nonsense, and wishful thinking, and you're probably right, but it's how I view things." Romeo stated.

Sieg the hand against White's back tucked more firmly there. Solid. Reassuring. "I don't know what star you're living on, but I've been everywhere there is to go on this one, and lived dozens of times as long as you have, and I can tell you right now you're wrong."

"A better star then the one we currently have." Romeo replied. "And if I want to see that star, spreading violence even to a so called enemy, musn't be an action I take, I'm sorry if you feel against that, I won't hold it against you if you feel me to be a naive fool."

Sieg scoffs. "I tried your way, with my old crew, when they started going against our code. It got me tortured for three days and left to bleed to death in a gutter."

"Oi. Take it from me. I might be nice but there's people where words alone can't reach." Rumielle put a hand on her chest. "There's people out there who are truly evil and can't be reasoned with cause they're not right in the head. There are heretics who do not care who I am and what I do. They only see a mark to feed dragon's blood to, sacrifice in some ritual, or worse. Me learning how to fight was a need. My boss is a lady who has taken on an oath of pacifism who would never hurt a fly and she is one of the nicest people out there. Even she needs house knight escorts because of the dangers she sometimes finds herself in."

White looked from the floor, over until her gaze ran into to Rumielle's feet then up, listening to her speech. She didn't say a word, bringing her gaze over to Romeo to stare right into his.

[theamazingmaddyas]

I've been reading Riordanverse fanfictions for a while, and writing them for a while to, and realized that I've read a lot of different Leo pairings. Ironically, I'm not actually the biggest fan of any Leo ship, because personally I think Leo's aro/ace, and has no attraction whatsoever (I could write essay after essay about why, but that's not the point right now). However, thinking back on all the Leo fics I've accidently read over the years (or purposefully, if the main ship or the plot intrigued me enough that I could put aside my preconcieved biases) got me thinking about whether I think Leo would be in a qpr with the characters who others ship him with. So, here's that:

Disclaimer, I'm not dissing on any ships here, ship what you want unless it's actively harmful! These are just my opinions on if I think Leo would be in a qpr with a character, because I really struggle to see him dating in my own head

Calypso — Maybe

Now, I've written Caleo before, when I was much younger and had the need to make every single fic I write canon compliant (still have this urge too, since I use fanfiction as an extension of canon works, which is why I rarely write AUs though I have) but in recent years, I just can't get myself to write them anymore, so my canon compliant fics have them breaking up pretty soon after TON for my sanity. As for them in a QPR, I've written it before (see Self-Discovery on ao3 by TheAmazingMaddy) (actually it might be on Wattpad too, but I can't remember, same name) (Double checked, it is also there) and that was such a fun fic for me to write! However, in the future I see them more as business partners and close friends than queer platonic partners. If you've read my Solangelo future fic Surprise! you'd know in that fic Leo and Calypso have their mechanic shop that they talk about in HOH, but Calypso has her own girlfriend (Sapphic a-spec Calypso is my new favorite thing) and Leo is living his life with his adoptive children, Madalena and Aidan, and they're content. (I won't go into any more details about this dynamic because I'd probably cap the word limit if I try, but if anyone wants elaboration, feel free to ask)

Jason Grace — Very likely

As aforementioned, I mainly write canon-compliant fics post TOA, so I'd probably never write this myself, but out of everyone on this list, Jason is by far the most likely candidate. Valgrace is by far the Leo ship content I see the most, as I've read a lot of aus that include it, mainly for the Solangelo content ngl. But, back to the qpr stuff, I definitely see them being queer platonic partners, as they're friendship is already solid. (Note; I can also totally see Jason having a onesided crush on Leo, which I know is definitely not a popular hc as most fics have Leo as the one down bad, but I also have reasons for this I can elaborate if even one person asks, or if I feel like I'll explode if I don't say it)

Jason Grace & Piper McLean — Likely enough

Disclaimer, I was raised without any knowledge on polyamory, and still have very little knowledge on it, as I struggle comprehending attraction to one person, much less more than one, but just because I don't understand it, doesn't mean I don't support everyone, and am willing to try and learn from more coherent sources

I just wanted to put a disclaimer before this one, as it's the only poly ship on this list, and I'm honestly afraid I'll say something ignorant and offensive, when that's not my intention at all. I'm not 100% sure how poly qprs would work, but I don't see why it wouldn't work? I mean, I haven't read anything on poly qprs, but I haven't consumed much poly content in general, and am being forthright when I say I am ignorant. That being said, the Lost Trio has some of my favorite friendship dynamics, so I see it as likely enough they could be in a poly qpr. Piper, obviously, is romantically dating Shel though, as they are one of my favorite underrated ships. I adore them, and wish we could get some more content on them and their meeting.

Drew Tanaka— Definitely Not

This one is because I very recently read a Solangelo fic that had background Leo/Drew mentions, and I didn't read the compliant story about them the author had written but I still decided to add it. Personally, I can't see it. Don't get me wrong, I love the Drew redemption arcs that a lot of Drew fics have, and I've even written Aro Drew myself for Aro Week 2024 (Aro Allo Drew to be specific) but I really can't see Leo and Drew working. Friends? Possibly, I'm not 100% sure, I could see Drew getting annoyed with him too fast for them to be around each other for more than 5 minutes at a time. QPP? Definitely not in my head.

Austin Lake— Maybe? I honestly can't tell, but the idea has merit

If anyone has read my Apollo Cabin fics, or my Ace 2023 and Aro 2024 oneshot collections, they'd know not only am I a bonafide expert in all things Aro/Ace Leo, but I am also a bonafide expert in all things Aro/Ace Austin, crazy how things work out, huh? Now, does me hcing them both as aromantic and asexual (both leaning more towards repulsed because self-projection? I don't know them)make them a good candidate for a qpr? I honestly don't know. The merit for this one comes from the fact that I can see Leo building or fixing instruments for Austin to play, and I think that's sweet. Austin plays the Valdezinator now, I don't make the rules.

Connor Stoll— Possible, but the world might come to an end if it happens

Leo and Connor are both such chaotic energies that combining them might be detrimental to the human and mythological worlds alike. They'd get along fantastically, so them being in a qpr is not out of the question, it's just the pranks that they'd come up with if they were together often would be the thing of nightmares. When I read them together in a fic, I was honestly scared for the well-being of the camp. They scare me together a bit.

Laurel Victor- No

Okay, admit time, the tagged Leo/Laurel fic I've read was written by me... Now, you're probably thinking why did I write this? The answer is simple, it was the fic First Dates in my Aro Week 2024 oneshot collection, where Jason and Piper set Leo up with a blind date with Laurel that goes pretty badly to try and take his mind off the Argo II building process and him feeling like a 3rd wheel (Because obviously Leo has no attraction towards her), but I feel obligated to add it to this list because I mean I have reread my own works before? I'm just saying it would go really badly because Laurel and Leo are both all energy all the time but in completely different, and butting heads kinda way.

You know, I probably have read more, but these are the ones I remember (mainly because the fics I read ages ago had some really memorable parts, that even if I probably would never find them again, it's forever altered my brain chemistry) at the moment. I'd love to hear if people have read or written other Leo ships, that they'd like me to rate the qpr-ability of!

[pokesmashorpokepass]

Gen II, Complete!

That's right everyone! We successfully made it through our Kantonian friends and their variants!

As such, allow me to begin the listing of this generations...

Sultans of Smash!

(Which is just a fancy way of saying they got more "Smash" than "Pass" votes)

So with that said, let's see who made the cut! Our Smashables are (under the Read More because, even if this is a bit shorter than the last one, holy fuck we're gonna be here a while):

Similar to Gen I, we start our list with the Kanto grass starter, Meganium! Reaching a 51.3% Smash vote, I guess people do indeed like that herb.

Hold on to your hats, everyone, because we've already got someone raking in The Big Numbers! That's right, Typhlosion has really pulled out some big wins. At a 66.4% Smash rating for Kantonian Typhlosion, we can easily see people like it hot. But that pales in comparison to their Hisuian cousin, who has managed to hit an overwhelmingly high vote of 82.5% (our highest percent so far)! I don't even have an attempt at a snappy quip for that one, that's just straight impressive.

Of course, we can't forget our reptilian, water-typed friend here. Yes, Feraligatr has made it to the list with a 54.2% Smash vote!

Now don't be shocked by this next one folk, though considering their typing I'm sure that'll be hard. Ampharos, that strange mix of a sheared sheep and a lighthouse, has been voted 58.2% smashable in Standard form! But much like Typhlosion, a change in form jumps that number way up, with Mega Ampharos hitting an impressive 70.3% Smash rating! Guess that luxurious hair really does add something...

Hey look at that, further proof the Eeveelutions just have that certain something to them. That's right, it's Espeon with a solid 60.3% Smash rating! You don't need ESP to see how popular they are with that kind of number.

And of course, we can't forget that dark-typed partner of Espeon, Umbreon! With a pretty good 59.3% rating, it seems Umbreon is right there with their fellow Gen II Eeveelution in the fields of smashing. But honestly, this is as it should be, Umbreon and Espeon are one of the classic "Do Not Separate" PokePairs.

Do you like big bugs, and you cannot lie? Because according to Scizor's polls, some of y'all certainly do! With a 59.7% for Standard Form and a nice, whole 57% for Mega Scizor, it seems this Pokemon's big meaty claws are good for more than just fighting! (...Yes I'm aware what I'm referencing there is coming from a cartoon crab not a cartoon bug but uh, consider: I don't care I think it's funny anyways.)

This one's yet another strange one, Houndoom has been voted 55% smashable... As Mega Houndoom. But sadly for Standard Houndoom, they juuuust lost out at a frustratingly close 49.6% Smash rating! But, this loyal hellhound made it in some capacity, so congratulations are still in order!

Here's a kind of crass one for y'all: what do FGO's depiction of famed Japanese general Minamoto no Raikou and the Legendary Pokemon Raikou have in common? If your answer is "Both are considered smashable", then congrats, you've nailed it! (Well, you've nailed the quiz, not either of the Raikous.) Yes, The Legendary Beast Of Lighting Raikou has made the list with a 55.6% Smash rating. I suppose they've made their way into people's hearts like a bolt from the blue!

Now I'm sure y'all weren't expecting just one member of the Legendary Beast Trio to make it into the Sultans of Smash, and you'd be correct. Entei has also made it in with a fine 63.2% smash rating! The blazing passion many feel for this emperor of flames cannot be denied, it seems!

And last but certainly not least of the Legendary Beasts, like a howling gale Suicune cuts their way into the Sultans of Smash with an impressive 72.2% Smash rating (and a very ringing endorsement of being the "sexiest motherfucker on the ocean" according to one tumblr user)! The North Wind they herald may be cold, but the feelings of Suicune's fans are some of the hottest we've got, it seems.

Seems this next one destroys more than just mountainsides, because Tyranitar has been voted Smashable both in Standard form (59.2%) and in Mega Evolution (51.8%)! Shame it takes so damn long to get Tyranitar, how is anyone supposed to smash when they're so far away?!

But at any rate, capping off this listing of the Sultans of Smash, we have everyone's favorite bird... dragon... leviathan beast thing, Lugia! Ranking at a damn good 68.5%, Lugia's not just a master of the Legendary Bird Trio, but a master of Smashing it seems! ...Probably helps that the Pokemon 2000 movie has Lugia talking. Passing the Harkness Test is a lot easier when you have words!

And with that, we have concluded the Gen II Who's Who of Smashing! This brings us to a total of 43 Sultans of Smash! Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for Gen III's list!

[lutawolf]

The 8th Sense ep 9

I'm going to hang on to the image above by bl-bam-beyond to get me through what I'm sure is to be a roller coaster.

Deep Breath... Okay Lets Do This!!!

I FUCKING LOVE THIS THERAPIST!!! That deep sigh when she says, "okay, work on yourself first." Because she knows there is no other choice. Because emotional fucking damage. I get this so much. I love you, lady.

"And when you're ready, think about what you want to do next." "I want to protect him." Sometimes love is selfless, and sometimes it's selfish. Sometimes they are a little bit of both. Here, we have someone who just wants the person they love to be safe. Not comprehending that sometimes it's better to have love than be safe.

I love bestie so much. Even though I feel an overwhelming need to smack that food out of his mouth, so I can hear him. Even if I'm just reading subtitles. I make no damn sense but there ya go.

I will say that Jae Won makes sense to Ji Hyun which is why they are simply meant to be. Even if I feel the urge to knock some mother fucking sense into everyone.

Haha, bestie over here throwing out words like narcissistic. I won't even correct him because he is funny. Apparently it's not common sense, cause you used it wrong. Still love you though boo.

I freaking love the trio so much! They are adorable. And you can't convince me otherwise. Oh lawd, he just now thought about his painful past.

Well... At least he is pretty, and he gets it now. So. 👀👀👀 And he has solid friends. Fighting! Then bestie goes and thrusts the dagger in. Damn.

Oh, this is going to be a tough scene to watch, isn't it. Those sitting next to each other talking about the incident.

Noooo!!! Him reaching out to hold his hand is gutting me.

Guys!!! Not gonna lie, I was literally holding my breath while I waited for him to go to her. Damn, that was painful. I mean, he isn't so good at it, but he is trying right. That's what matters. Ji Hyun come back and show this clueless boy how it's done!

Fuck, I hate her. She makes me want to gag every time I see her. I want to punch her in the face every time she says Oppa.

Nooooooooooo SHE DIDN'T!

Nope... I'm not okay. Everyone else can forgive. I am not in the forgiveness business. Guess I'll be the odd one out. He wanted to protect him, and then he does that. Yeah… Did that look like protection to you, do, and then you have the ability to be nice to her afterward. To not immediately go after that baby boy. Yeah, fuck this. Guess I'm gonna be the unpopular opinion here.

I love his bestie so much. Ji Hyun, you have the best bestie ever. I have mixed feelings on seeing Jae Won. I'm petty and I don't like to see him happy when he hurt Ji Hyun yet on the other side, maybe it means he is taking his fucking meds and getting his head on straight.

Oh, the look in his eyes when Ji Hyun just left. Then a deep swallow. You deserved that bitch. You really did.

Now that's unselfish love. Even believing that it's all ended. That the cunt won. He doesn't push but lets him know he supports him.

I mean... Didn't you do the same thing to Ji Hyun minus the sex. You didn't even break up officially before being back with her. Shit, I don't even know why I'm bothering to type anymore. I'm sure people have stopped reading at this point.

Shit, doesn't that sound familiar. "I apologize, I was out of my mind." I swear to god if I don't see some growth in this boy.

Oh, the boss knows. Dude, I love her. Okay, I'm pissed at you dude, but that was funny. "I'm here to eat, not listen to a fortune-teller."

OMG! I FUCKING LOVE HER!

"I can't seem to organize my life." "Then organize it." I don't know how many times I've said this. You know what the problem is, now start working towards a solution instead of sitting there and not doing anything about it. I can only help so much, eventually you've got to help yourself. "I feel like things got screwed up big time and I don't know where to begin to fix it."

Shit hit him! Oh, thank you baby Jezebel she hit him! I knew I was in love with her! Oh, I really love her. Knock some motherfucking sense into him!

There ya go. You only live once. Are you finally hearing people, asshole.

Oh! My little button nose. Isn't that just love. Love is forgiveness. For the people who deserve, who support you, and you want to be beside you. Love is forgiveness.

gif by @bl-bam-beyond

I love the song playing in the background of the kiss. Life is complicated and messy, grab your happiness where you can.

For those who read this. Thank you! 💜💜💜

[littlemochix17]

Chapter 11

Words: 17.3K

Malfoy was taken aback when he saw that Harry, (Y/n), and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, despite looking worn out but nonetheless content. The trio appeared to be exhilarated by their encounter with the three-headed dog and were eager to embark on another adventure. Harry provided Ron and (Y/n) with a detailed account of the package that had been relocated from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they devoted a significant amount of time to speculate about its contents, given the heavy security measures surrounding it.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

"I heard Dumbledore was a very powerful wizard maybe that's why they brought it here so he can protect it," said (Y/n) to the boys

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. (Y/n) was doing her best to avoid Hermione's persistent efforts to drag her away from her friends. While she didn't mind it too much last night, she was starting to feel increasingly annoyed by the brunette's behavior. It seemed like Hermione was always trying to separate her from the group, and (Y/n) was beginning to wonder why.

All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, well it's more of the boys than the girl, she couldn't care less they always discuss it way too really in the morning and she was just sleepy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky because it said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody to know you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight at the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session. 

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. 

"I've never even touched one."

"Oh trust me I am more than thankful that I didn't touch one either" (Y/n) trembled at the mere idea of soaring through the air on a slender broomstick, far above the safety of solid ground.

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall, they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face.

"Oh wow we really wouldn't have known if it wasn't for your nosey self middling in our business" (Y/n) let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes in frustration at the blonde standing in front of her. She was feeling particularly drained today and had no tolerance for his nonsensical behavior.

 "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." The boy paid no attention to her and continued to sneer at Harry, his eyes narrowed with contempt and his lips curled into a disdainful sneer.

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, 

"it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. 

"Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. 

"I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys and girl?" he squeaked.

"Potters have been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry.

"Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. 

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

As Harry, (Y/n), and Ron ascended the staircase, they couldn't help but suppress their laughter at the sight of Malfoy's intense fury and bewilderment. The air was thick with tension, but the trio couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction as they left their rival behind.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase,

 "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

With an air of superiority, Hermione turned and made her way down the hall, her nose held high. As she walked away, she reached out and grabbed the hand of the girl with (H/c) hair, pulling her along with her. The girl stumbled after Hermione, clearly struggling to keep up with her brisk pace.

"Honestly (Y/n) you would only get in trouble if you keep joining these two boys" As the (E/c) eyed girl gave them an apologetic look, they realized that it was the last thing they would hear from her before the other girl dragged her away through the halls. The scene left an indelible impression on their mind, as they wondered what was happening and why the girl was being taken away so suddenly.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

They were eager to unwrap the broom together, but they couldn't wait for (Y/n) to join them. Hermione, in particular, had been keeping the girl occupied all day, persuading her to stay with her instead. She argued that it would be safer for her to stay away from the boys and their potentially reckless activities, as it could result in their house losing valuable points. Despite this, the others were too impatient to wait any longer and decided to open the package without (Y/n).

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. He'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling he swooped in and out of the goalposts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant ... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood.

 "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood.

 "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. 

"So that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper. I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. 

"And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?"

 He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. 

"Take this."

He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said.

"These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose and sent it zigzagging away into the air it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. 

"The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team, the Weasley twins are ours, it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goalposts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er- have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping

he sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers-"

"-unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"This," said Wood, 

"is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages  I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep."

"Well, that's it any questions?"

Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

As the classes came to an end, Y/n was relieved to have escaped Hermione's clutches. She was eager to catch up with Harry and wish him luck for his first Quidditch practice with Wood. However, she noticed that it was already too late for that, and she found herself standing by the black lake. Cedric had instructed her to meet him there, but she was surprised to find him engaged in conversation with a boy with striking greenish-grey eyes. Y/n couldn't help but wonder what they were discussing.

"Hey Ced, Regulus" As she approached, a warm smile graced her face and she cheerfully greeted the two older boys, who seemed pleased to see her.

"(Y/n)! You made it" Cedric approached the young girl with a warm smile, his steps light and gentle. As he drew closer, she turned to face him, and he opened his arms wide to envelop her in a warm embrace. She hugged him back tightly, and a sense of comfort and safety washed over her.

"Of course, I am sorry I didn't write to you one of my dorm mates wouldn't leave me alone for one second," As she spoke, she let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes, causing the other two  to respond with a small chuckle.

"Sounds like you have a fan," Regulus observed the girl in front of him, noticing the way she had just scoffed - a mixture of irritation and disbelief etched on her face.

"What fan dragges you anywhere and everywhere she goes just so she makes sure you won't lose more points for your own house" The girl's remark caught Cedric's attention, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter. However, the expression on the girl's face showed her annoyance, as if she hadn't intended to be funny.

"Maybe she just doesn't want you to get in trouble," The brunette said.

"Well she does half a special way in showing it" Regulus snickers

"Oh shut up when did you get sorted anyway? I thought all first years got sorted at the start of the year" Asked the younger girl before sitting in the empty space beside him on the ground Cedric followed her sitting at her other side

"My sorting was...  well...  different I got sorted into Slytherin privately before first years in Professor Dumbledore's office," he said rubbing the back of his neck

"Why?" Cedric's voice peeped into their conversation also curious to know

"My Aunt Genevieve asked for my sorting to be private I don't know why thought she didn't do that when I was at Beauxbatons" As the boy sat said to his friends, he took a moment to reminisce about his time at Beauxbatons. Despite not having many friends, he cherished the memories of his stay in France. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness as he thought of someone special whom he missed dearly. This feeling brought to mind the sorting ceremony at Beauxbatons, which he found quite intriguing. In fact, he felt that the sorting process at Beauxbatons was much more fascinating than the one at Hogwarts.

As Madam Maxime calls his name, he walks across the stage and stops in front of a small table. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, he notices a shimmering silver bow and arrow placed on the table. His hands tremble as he picks them up and holds them in front of him. He pulls the string back to his cheek and takes a deep breath before releasing it from his sweaty fingers. With a sense of wonder, he watches as the silver arrow glides effortlessly across the room, leaving a trail of white sparks in its wake. It's a moment of pure magic, as the room comes alive with energy and anticipation. The arrow bursts into blue sparks just before hitting the wall, signaling that he has been placed in OmbreLune.

The young boy's face lit up with amusement as he reminisced about the past event. He let out a hearty chuckle, clearly enjoying the memory. He expressed his opinion that the sorting ceremony at Hogwarts lacked excitement in comparison to the one at Beauxbatons, hinting at the possibility of a more enchanting and captivating experience.

Ombrelune is well known for cunning, logic, ambition, and curiosity. The house colour is grey and the house is symbolized by a sinister-looking moon. The members of this house are very often those that prescribe to the concept of "the end justifies the means", as they can be manipulative and cunning. They are very cool and calculating students who are very adverse to irrationality and prize people for making well-thought-out and logical decisions. Most Ombrelune students are cold and rarely display emotion openly unless they see some direct gain in doing so. They are in the most ambitious of the Beauxbatons houses. They are very smart, logical, and structured. They are very curious and interested in the world and the intricate way it works. Ombrelune students often strive for power and perfection more than anything else. Cunning, logic, ambition, and curiosity. These are all traits that members of OmbreLune possess. They are very smart and aim for perfection.

House colours: Grey, blue House symbol: Moon

"So what was your house when you were at Beauxbatons?" Asked the girl

"I was in OmbreLune which is like being in Slytherin and Ravenclaw at the same time" (Y/n) nodded at his answer

"Well I got to go I have Quidditch practice tomorrow morning" Regulus stated

"You're on the Quidditch team?" Asked Cedric

"Yeah they needed a seeker and I passed tryouts" smirked the second-year boy

"Be ready Diggory because next Hufflepuff vs Slytherin match I am gonna kick your arse"

"Haha as if you can" Cedric rolled his eyes making (Y/n) giggle softly at the two boys before Regulus bedded his goodbyes and left

Cedric turned to (Y/n) smiling brightly

"So? How's Hogwarts so far" he asked

"Perfect" she replied smiling up at the brunette

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.

As the class began, Professor Flitwick assigned pairs to practice. Harry found himself partnered with Seamus Finnigan, a fellow Gryffindor, much to his relief. Neville, who had been trying to get Harry's attention, was instead paired with (Y/n). Despite this, Harry was still pleased to be with Seamus, as they had gotten along well. Ron, on the other hand, was paired with Hermione Granger, and neither of them seemed happy about it. The tension was palpable between them, as Hermione had not spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual.

"Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f ' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harry found the spell to be incredibly challenging, which made him question the effectiveness of the professor's teaching methods. However, (Y/n) was able to teach the group a more advanced spell with ease, leaving Harry impressed. (Y/n) was actively encouraging Neville to give it a go, while Ron, sitting at the table next to them, seemed to be struggling with the spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"No, stop stop you're going to take someone's eye out" Snapped Hermione

"Besides you're saying it wrong, It's Levi-o-sa, not Levi-o-sar."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

"Go on, go on"

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping.

"Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop.

"Wingardium leviosa!"

Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it Harry had to put it out with his hat.

"I think we're gonna need another feather over here Professor," Harry said

"It's Levi-o-sa, not Levi-o-sar! no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry and (Y/n) as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor,

"And why does she always drag (Y/n)? it's starting to get annoying she's a nightmare, honestly."

As Harry was silent while (Y/n) just shrugged, lost in his thoughts, suddenly he felt a sudden jolt on his shoulder. He turned to see who it was and saw Hermione rushing past him, her eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down her face. Harry's heart sank as saw her

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable.

"She must've noticed she's got no friends."

"Ron!"

"What don't tell me you're starting to feel bad for her" he raised an eyebrow at the girl

"I mean she is annoying but still you shouldn't have said that" The girl squinted her eyes, fixing her gaze on the redhead with a disapproving expression. The redhead, in response, rolled his eyes, as if he was familiar with such a reaction from her.

"Whatever let's go"  

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon.

As Harry, (Y/n), and Ron made their way down the dimly lit corridor towards the Great Hall for the highly anticipated Halloween feast, they were startled by the sound of Parvati Patil's voice. They paused, curious to hear what she was saying. They overheard Parvati telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and that she wanted to be left alone. Ron looked particularly uncomfortable at this news, and (Y/n) noticed it immediately. She glared at him, wondering if he might have had something to do with Hermione's distress. However, the moment they entered the Great Hall, they were immediately distracted by the stunning decorations. The ceiling was enchanted to look like a starry night sky, and there were pumpkins and candles placed on every table. They were all so mesmerized by the decorations that they forgot about Hermione for a while.

The great hall was filled with a thousand fluttering bats which were hanging from the walls and ceiling. Another thousand of them were swooping over the tables in low black clouds, causing the candles in the pumpkins to flicker. Suddenly, the feast appeared on the golden plates, just like it did during the start-of-term banquet. 

As Harry was serving himself a baked potato, Professor Quirrell entered the hall in a state of panic. His turban was askew, and his face was filled with terror. All eyes were on him as he ran towards Professor Dumbledore's chair. He slumped against the table, gasping for air, leaving everyone in the hall bewildered and anxious. "Troll! In the dungeons! thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron.

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

"I don't really think peeves would do something that could harm students physically," said (Y/n)

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm and (Y/n)'s hand

"I've just thought Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She is at the girls' bathroom alone you idiot," said (Y/n)

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, him and (Y/n) pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered.

"Something is not right"

"Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me."

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Harry and (Y/n) sniffed and caught a whiff of a foul stench, a combination of old socks and an unclean public toilet. Suddenly, they heard a low grunting sound and the shuffling of giant feet. Ron pointed to the end of a passage on the left, and they saw something huge moving towards them. They quickly hid in the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. What they saw was a terrifying sight. The creature was twelve feet tall and had dull, granite-grey skin. Its body was like a boulder, with a small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs that were as thick as tree trunks, with flat and dry feet. The smell emanating from it was overpowering. The creature held a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll stopped next to a doorway, peered inside, waggled its long ears, made up its tiny mind, and then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered.

"We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

"Yeah but we have to be careful" 

As they inched closer to the open doorway, their hearts pounding with trepidation, the group prayed that the troll was not lurking behind it. Suddenly, Harry summoned all his courage and made a daring leap, snatching the key from its perch just in time. With a swift motion, he slammed the door shut and locked it, feeling a momentary sense of relief wash over him.

"Yes!"

Flushed with the excitement of their hard-won victory, they eagerly ran back up the dimly lit passage, elated and filled with a sense of triumph. However, as they neared the sharp bend in the corridor, their sense of jubilation was abruptly silenced by a piercing and petrifying scream that echoed through the stone walls. The scream was coming from the chamber they had just chained up, and it was so high-pitched and stricken with terror that it gripped their hearts in a vice-like hold, making them freeze in their tracks.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.

"Shit" (Y/n) cursed under her breath 

"Hermione!" they said together.

As much as they dreaded the idea, they knew they had to act fast. They spun around and dashed towards the door, hearts pounding with fear and adrenaline. The key trembled in Harry's hand as he tried to unlock the door, his fingers fumbling with anxiety. Finally, his determination paid off and the door creaked open, allowing them to dart inside.

Inside the restroom, Hermione Granger was cowering against the far wall, her face contorted with terror and eyes wide with fright. The troll was stomping closer and closer, its massive frame shaking the walls and shattering the porcelain sinks like they were mere toys.

"Confuse it!" With desperation in his voice, Harry implored Ron for help, his eyes locked on the massive, lumbering troll that stood before them. In a sudden move, he seized a nearby tap and hurled it against the wall with all the strength he could muster. The troll paused and turned its head, its beady eyes scanning the area for the source of the noise. It spotted Harry and hesitated for a moment, before raising its club and advancing towards him.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) quickly assessed the situation and rushed over to Hermione, pulling her away from the troll as far as possible. The troll, its attention now fixed on Harry, seemed to have forgotten about the two girls for the time being.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" In a moment of chaos, Harry was frantically yelling at Hermione and (Y/n) to move towards the door. But Hermione was unable to move and was still flat against the wall, her mouth wide open with terror. (Y/n) was trying to snap her out of it, but the shouting and echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

In a desperate attempt to save his friend, Harry took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. Despite the troll's massive size, Harry clung on for dear life and managed to insert his wand up one of the troll's nostrils, causing it to howl in pain and confusion.

The troll twisted and flailed its club, trying to get rid of Harry, who was still clinging on tightly. Hermione had sunk to the floor, unable to move, while (Y/n) screamed Harry's name, trying to think of anything she could do to help her friend. Ron, who was also terrified, pulled out his own wand and cried out the first spell that came to his mind, hoping it would be enough to save Harry: 

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, and rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got up from the ground, his body trembling with fear and exhaustion. Ron stood still, his wand still raised, staring at the troll he had just defeated. Meanwhile, (Y/n) pulled Hermione towards the two boys, hugging them all tightly out of relief. She muttered about how reckless it was of Harry to jump at the troll, causing Ron to grin and Harry to chuckle slightly. Harry hugged her back tightly to reassure her that he was unharmed. Hermione looked at her three friends with sadness and sighed, thinking that Ron was right. If only she wasn't so annoying, maybe the three of them would have befriended her already. She tried not to dwell on it and spoke up to catch their attention, wanting to move on from the tense situation they had just been in.

"Is it dead?"

"I hope so I don't want to have another troll fight right now" grimaced (Y/n) 

"I don't think so," said Harry,

"I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

"Urgh- troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall came bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air.

"You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down while (Y/n) just closed her eyes hissing as she knows that they're doomed that's for sure.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I-I thought I could deal with it on my own- you know because I've read all about them."

(Y/n)'s jaw dropped as well as Ron's wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club while (Y/n) had pulled me away from it before it attacked me. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry, (Y/n) and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them,

"Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall.

"I'm very disappointed in you." Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, (Y/n) and Ron.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted looking at Hermione.

"Mind you, we did save her." That made (Y/n) elbow him and glare in his direction

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him, and the (H/c) head girl nodded.

"And if you hadn't insulted her," the (H/c) head girl said crossing her arms at him

"What are friends for yeah?" He said smiling at the other girl who smiled as well

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," they said and entered.

The common room was abuzz with activity, filled with students chatting, laughing, and enjoying the feast that had been delivered. In the midst of the crowd stood Hermione, feeling out of place and somewhat embarrassed. As she looked around, she saw the others eyeing her curiously, unsure of what to say. Then, in a sudden burst of relief, they all mumbled a quick "Thanks" and hurried off to grab their plates. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, Hermione was grateful to have been acknowledged. It was then that she realized that she had made new friends. For her, it was a turning point - a moment when she felt like she had finally found her place at Hogwarts. And as she reflected on the events of that day, she knew that there was something special about the bond that they had formed. It was a connection that went beyond words, something that could only be forged through shared experiences. And defeating a twelve-foot mountain troll was definitely one of them.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake was like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress. It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her and (Y/n), what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. Hermione had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Harry learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking the rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it she also apologized to the three for always trying to separate (Y/n) from the other two. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape.

"Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

"Someone got his knickers in a twist" 

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway while (Y/n) told them she was going to feed her owl (and NItor) and be right back.

Harry felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it just as the (H/c) girl got down from her dorm.

"Better you than me," they said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if other teachers were listening.

"Where are you going?" asked the girl 

"I am going to Snap to return the book," said Harry 

"Do you want me to come with you?" (Y/n) offered to accompany Harry, and as he looked at her, a smile spread across his face. He felt a warm flutter in his chest as he appreciated the care she showed for him. Even though he now had Ron and Hermione by his side, there was something special about (Y/n)'s support. Perhaps it was the fact that they had known each other for years before they were both accepted into Hogwarts. Whatever the reason, Harry was grateful for her.

Despite her offer, Harry declined, assuring her that he would be okay on his own. As he spoke, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at turning down her kind offer. Nevertheless, he knew that he had to handle Snape alone. He promised her that he would return soon, and with that, he set off, his thoughts lingering on (Y/n) and the bond they shared.

He made his way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside and a horrible scene met his eyes.

Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying.

"How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but -

"POTTER!"

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

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."

"GET OUT! OUT!"

Harry left before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. He sprinted back upstairs.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined them. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly.

"He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"No he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron.

"I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"I agree too it seems quite weird that Snap got injured while coming back from the third fooler," said (Y/n) 

"Maybe he did try to get past the dog when we were trying to fight that troll"

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours but the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Harry felt terrible. In an hour he'd be walking onto the field.

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan.

"Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," Harry watched Seamus pile heaps of ketchup on his sausages, his stomach churning with unease. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but he knew he needed to eat something before the match today. Suddenly, he felt a warm hand on his own, and he turned to see (Y/n) sitting beside him. Her friendly smile put him at ease, and he felt a sense of comfort he hadn't felt since he woke up and remembered his first match was today.

Before he could say anything, (Y/n) placed a plate of his favorite Treacle Tart in front of him, the sweet aroma wafting up to meet his nose. 

"If you don't feel like eating breakfast, you can have this. I know it's not breakfast, but it'll give you some energy for the match today. Plus, I know you can't refuse a treacle tart," she chuckled softly.

Harry couldn't help but smile at her thoughtfulness, taking the plate gratefully. As he took a bite, he felt a wave of warmth spread through him, and he felt more relaxed than he had in days. Ron, Hermione, and Seamus watched in surprise as Harry's demeanor shifted, his shoulders relaxing and his face softening.

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to Harry. He felt grateful to have such caring friends, and he knew that, no matter what happened today, he had people he could count on.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean in the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean and (Y/n), who were good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed.

"This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry,

"We were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood.

"This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve- back to Johnson and no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes Flint flying like an eagle up there he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and- OUCH that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger Quaffle taken by the Slytherins that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes, she's really flying , dodges a speeding Bludger the goalposts are ahead come on, now, Angelina Keeper Bletchley dives- misses- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor's cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Ron,(Y/n) and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them. 

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck,

"But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron.

"Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said.

"We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop the- loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying,

"Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the- wait a moment. was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement, he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Regulus had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was slightly faster than Regulus he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead he put on an extra spurt of speed- WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared again. Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling,

"Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously.

"In soccer, you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked, Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating- "

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that. It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goalposts, he had half a mind to ask Wood to call a time-out, and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession- Flint with the Quaffle- passes Spinnet- passes Bell- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose- only joking, Professor- Slytherins score- oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars.

"If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have...."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except for powerful Dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced while (Y/n) couldn't take her eyes off Harry worried he might fall any minute.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape look!"

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something. jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row. Snape would never know what had happened. It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back onto his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was soaring through the air on his broomstick, his eyes fixed on the tiny, fluttering Snitch as it darted back and forth. Suddenly, he started to descend rapidly towards the ground. The crowd gasped as they saw him clutching his mouth as if he was about to be sick. Even after his broomstick stopped jerking, (Y/n) couldn't help but worry about him. She held her breath and watched anxiously as Harry hit the ground on all fours, coughing violently. Then, to her relief, something glittering and golden fell into his hand. Harry's face lit up with excitement as he shouted, 

"I've got the Snitch!" and triumphantly waved it above his head. The game ended in a frenzy of confusion and cheers from the crowd.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining,

"Seriously why would he do that did Harry steal his girlfriend from him or something?" (Y/n) said earning a snort from Ron 

"Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands.

"Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid.

"He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah he's mine bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly.

"That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again.

"Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly.

"Hagrid you said it yourself a kid couldn't possibly make his broom do that and you confirmed that it must have been some kind of dark magic" the other girl stated 

"I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" said Harry,

"so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.  

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class,

"for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home." 

Harry was busy measuring out the powdered spine of a lionfish while Draco Malfoy, accompanied by his lackeys Crabbe and Goyle, was trying to get under his skin. Malfoy had been particularly unpleasant since the Quidditch match, where Harry had outperformed his house. Frustrated by the loss, Malfoy tried to make the other students laugh by mocking Harry's skills. When that didn't work, he resorted to taunting Harry about his background, something he knew Harry was sensitive about. 

Harry, however, was determined not to let Malfoy's comments get the better of him. He was excited about spending Christmas at Hogwarts with his friends, including Ron and his brothers who were also staying back. Harry knew that this Christmas would be different from previous ones, which he had spent with his unpleasant relatives at Privet Drive. 

(Y/n), who was also in the class, was not going back home for Christmas either. She was glaring at Malfoy, who noticed her and turned to her with a smirk on his face. 

"What do you think you're doing glaring at me like that, you twat?" he said, trying to provoke her. (Y/n) replied with a scowl, 

"I'm hoping you'll spontaneously combust." Malfoy's smirk disappeared, and he scoffed before turning away with Crabbe and Goyle which made the girl smirk.

As they left the Potions class, they encountered a large fir tree blocking the corridor. Harry and his friends heard a loud puffing sound and realized that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

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

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree.

"Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back,

"one of these days, I'll get him-"

"I hate them both," said Harry,

"Malfoy and Snape."

"Don't worry boys someday we will hit them so hard they won't know what hit them"

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid.

"Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the three of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me. Harry, Ron, (Y/n) we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall.

"Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly.

"Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is." (Y/n) sighed and mentally face palmed at her friend's stupidity

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here. I've told yeh. drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added.

"We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere just give us a hint I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione and (Y/n) took out a list of subjects and titles they had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," said Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to. Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione.

"And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said, Ron.

"It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione, and then she left to pack the rest of her things.

The conversation between three first-year Hogwarts students was suddenly interrupted by a cheerful voice calling out to one of them. Looking up, the trio saw the Slytherin and Hufflepuff seekers approaching them. Cedric Diggory and Regulus Black had come to bid farewell to their friend, (Y/n), before heading home for the holidays. To the surprise of Harry and Ron, the girl seemed to be on friendly terms with the Slytherin boy. Despite Ron's prejudice, Harry felt oddly uncomfortable around Regulus. The older boy turned to Harry and asked if he was the Gryffindor seeker, but instead of insulting him for winning the match against him, he praised him for giving him a good challenge. (Y/n) confirmed that Harry was indeed the seeker, and Cedric continued to praise him for his skills on the field. The two first-years were surprised to see the friendly side of a Slytherin, a house known for its cunning and ambition. Harry and Ron felt awkward and remained silent until Cedric and Regulus bid farewell to (Y/n) and promised to keep in touch with her during the holidays.  

"You're friends with a Slytherin?!" Ron hissed making (Y/n) turn to him and shrugged 

"Not all of them like Malfoy you know," she said before taking her leave not wanting to hear the boys complain about her other friendships 

Once the holidays had started, (Y/n), Ron, and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork bread, English muffins, marshmallows, and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which was fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Ron also started teaching Harry and (Y/n) wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family, in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing.

"Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

As the chess game progressed, (Y/n) expressed her desire to join in. The chessmen on the board tried to protest but (Y/n) silenced them, revealing her past experience of playing Muggle chess with Mrs. Figg. Ron was surprised to hear this, unaware of her skills. The game was incredibly intense, and both (Y/n) and Ron were deeply focused. It was the final round, and the score was tied at one win each. Harry couldn't help but observe Ron's growing nervousness, as he was determined not to let (Y/n) win this game. However, (Y/n) was equally determined and didn't give up easily. When it was her turn, she made her final move with precision and smirked at her red-haired friends. "Check Mate," she announced triumphantly. Ron groaned at his loss, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the outcome of the game played by his two best friends.

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.

"You, too," said Harry.

"Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's. Before they opened their presents they heard a knock on the door which turned out to be (Y/n) who wanted to open her gifts with the boys. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it. it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Harry.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, "What a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, him and (Y/n) laughing at how pleased Ron was.

"Hagrid and my aunt and uncle so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you both didn't expect any presents and- oh, no," he groaned,

"she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"I think I have one too" (Y/n) beamed pulling a (F/c) with her first initial and wearing it over her pjs 

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own,

"and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next present also contained candy a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

With excitement in her eyes, (Y/n) eagerly unwrapped the remaining gifts. She found some chocolate frogs from Ron, which she knew she would enjoy later. Hermione gifted her with an art sketch, which she appreciated deeply. The pair of gold butterfly earrings from Cedric caught her attention and made her heart flutter. However, the most surprising gift came from Regulus - a gold butterfly bracelet similar to the earrings. The matching set made her feel special and brought a smile to her face.

Suddenly, she heard Harry clearing his throat and turned to face him. She noticed the small box in his hands, and her heart began to race with anticipation. 

"Cedric and Regulus owled me and told me that they wanted to surprise you with a matching set of jewelry, and I thought it was just right to join them as well," he said nervously.

 She opened the box to find a small gold ring, which was perfect in her eyes. Harry's insecurity was evident as he asked, 

"So, er, do yo-" but he was cut off by her embracing him tightly. 

"I love it!" she exclaimed, feeling grateful for the thoughtful gift and Harry was relieved that he had managed to pull it off.  

Harry took the small box out of her hand and opened it tenderly, revealing a delicate ring inside. The girl standing before him held out her hand, and he took it, placing the ring on her finger. A bright smile lit up her face as she gazed down at the ring. (at least he was the one to put a ring on her finger;) ok I will stop now T-T) Meanwhile, Ron was munching on some Muggle candy that (Y/n) had given him, muttering under his breath, "Friend my arse," but neither of them paid him any attention. 

(Y/n) came back to reality and walked over to the gift she had brought for Harry. She handed it to him, and he quickly unwrapped it to reveal a magical camera. Looking at the girl beside him, he said, "I noticed how fascinated you were by the moving pictures here, so I thought I'd get you one so you can capture every memory we make before leaving Hogwarts." A smile spread across her face, and Harry thanked her warmly.

This only left one for each of Harry and (Y/n). Harry picked his up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione.

"If that's what I think it is they're really rare and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch like water is woven into the material.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face.

"A what now?" (Y/n) asked but Ron ignored her question 

"I'm sure it is try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

"Woah!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly.

"A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said.

"Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look!  (Y/n) and Harry got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater.

"She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded.

"Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed.

"I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid we know we're called Gred and Forge," he said making the only girl there chuckle 

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving.

He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even these two got one."

"I. don't. want-" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses off.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. 

"Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. (Y/n) and Harry had never in all their lives had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce, and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry and (Y/n) watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs Norris's Christmas dinner.

(Y/n), Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke into his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much as (Y/n) was taking a warm shower so he couldn't ask for her help.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor Tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge. It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it.

Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it. His father's... this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

Use it well.

Suddenly, Harry felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something held him back, his father's cloak, he felt that this time (the first time ) he wanted to use it alone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open. A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence. the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backwards and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside. stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

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

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied,

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him the cloak didn't stop him from being solid. He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

His panic faded now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but seeing no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror trick that reflected them, invisible or not? He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she were really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air. She and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes-

"Her eyes are just like mine"

Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, and even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees. Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered,

"I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

(Y/n) was in her cozy dorm room, getting ready to sleep when something caught her eye. It was the wrapped gift she had forgotten to open earlier in the day. The gift was wrapped flawlessly, with neat creases and a brightly colored ribbon tied into a perfect bow. (Y/n) couldn't resist the urge to open it, so she retrieved the gift and sat down on her comfortable bed. As she began to unravel the wrapping paper, she heard a hiss beside her. She looked down and saw Nitor, the snake she had let out from his hiding place earlier, watching her curiously.

 "What issss thissss?" he asked, his head swaying back and forth as he studied the gift. 

"I don't know yet. Why don't we see?" (Y/n) replied with a smile, feeling a sense of excitement building up inside her. As she continued to unwrap the gift, she found a perfectly crafted box of jewelry.

 "More jewelry?" she questioned, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She opened the box and found a note that looked eerily similar to the one Harry received with his cloak. 

"What doessss it ssssay?" asked the snake, who was still studying the gift.

 "It says, 'This was your mother's. Be careful with it and don't see too much.' What does that even mean?" (Y/n) muttered, feeling a sense of unease creeping up on her. 

As she looked back into the box, she saw a beautiful red heart necklace nestled inside. She carefully picked it up and put it around her neck. 

"What do you think?" she asked the snake, who looked unimpressed. 

"That's weird. Maybe it's like a locket or something. It has to be opened o-" Suddenly, (Y/n) felt as if her whole body was on fire, and her vision started to change. She could only see red as she heard a woman's voice screaming, "You picked the wrong side, Peter!"  Then she woke up, gasping for air, with Nitor beside her.

As she struggled for air, she frantically tore the necklace from her neck. Once she sat upright, she patted her pet, Nitor, to assure him that she was okay.

 "I'm fine, don't worry," she managed to gasp out, still catching her breath. After a few minutes, she lay on her bed, with Nitor curled up next to her, sound asleep. She gazed at the necklace lying on her nightstand, with a furrowed brow. Her fingers traced the delicate chain that had encircled her neck moments ago. 

'Don't see too much'

"How strange," she murmured, before turning away from the necklace. Unbeknownst to her, the necklace's brilliant crimson hue seemed to radiate light throughout the room, illuminating everything in its path. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts were consumed with the vivid images the necklace had revealed to her...

"You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly as (Y/n) didn't say anything her mind was thinking about last night's incident.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror. both of you." that made (Y/n) snap back to the boys' conversation 

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said and (Y/n) nodded eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone maybe we can see (Y/n)'s parents as well."

"You can see them any old time," said Ron.

"Just come round my house this summer. Ginny has already invited (Y/n) so both of you could come  Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"

Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really?

"Are you all right?" said Ron.

"You look odd both of you actually (Y/n) you have been silent for a while are alright?." 

"Yeah I am don't worry Ron"(Y/n) gave him a small smile, but the expression on her face told him that something was wrong. He could sense her exhaustion, but he didn't want to make things worse by prying. He decided to give her some space and not press her to talk about what was bothering her. 

What Harry feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron and (Y/n) covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," said Ron.

"Let's forget it and go back."

"No!" Harry hissed.

 "I know it's here somewhere."

"Stop fighting both of you" 

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here. just here- yes!"

They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

"See?" Harry whispered.

"I can't see anything."

"Me neither"

"Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them..."

"I can only see you," Ron said and (Y/n) nodded

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Harry stepped aside, but with (Y/n) in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family anymore, just (Y/n) in her pajamas. 

The two boys leaned in curiously and asked the girl, "So, what do you see?" She lifted her gaze up to the mirror and found herself staring at a stunning woman with curly red locks that cascaded down her waist. The woman's striking (E/c) eyes seemed to bore into hers as she examined her reflection. The girl's eyes widened in confusion as she wondered if the woman was her mother. Her gaze then shifted to the woman's neck, where she spotted a familiar necklace, the one she had received on Christmas. The girl's heart raced as she remembered the events of the previous night. She stepped back from the mirror and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Harry asked her, "What did you see?" She whispered, "Nothing." Harry was about to ask again when Ron intervened, placing a hand on his shoulder and gesturing for him to back off. Ron then walked over to where the girl was standing next to her in silence.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?"

"No. I'm alone- but I'm different I look older and- I'm Head Boy!"

"What?"

"I am- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to- and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup I'm Quidditch Captain, too!" Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Harry.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead- let me have another look-"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me-" "Both of  you sto-"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Quick!"

Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron and Harry stood quite still, both thinking the same thing- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

And Ron pulled Harry and (Y/n) out of the room. The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

"No... you go..."

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione."

"I'm serious, Harry, don't go ever since we went there something wrong happened to (Y/n) she doesn't want to get out of her dorm maybe you should go see her I know she would listen to you."

But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him he could cheek on (Y/n) some other time.

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all. Except-

"So back again, Harry?"

Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror that he hadn't noticed him.

"I- I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry,

"You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It- well-  it shows me, my family- "

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy," Dumbledore said but he didn't mention what did the (E/c) eyed girl see knowing she wouldn't want him to tell her friends

"How did you know- ?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently.

"Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Harry shook his head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Harry thought. Then he said slowly,

"It shows us what we want... whatever we want ..."

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly.

"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry stood up.

"Sir- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled.

"You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore.

"Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.

[someobscurereference]

I stumbled across your old Xander/Owain fic again recently and haven't been able to get it out of my head, I love the leo trio with my heart and soul and xanlow is great but there is something so compelling and wholesome about them being in such close proximity for so long bc of Leo and Laslow but not close enough to actually have any sort of relationship with one another otherwise until they finally get a moment alone and are able to forge a connection. I love We Meet Like This At Least Once and it's honestly so aggravating that the only other fics on ao3 under the tag are porn involving one of Xander's siblings in some way, for some reason, and seemingly have absolutely nothing to do with Odin being drawn to Xander's strength of mind, body, and character and the tenderness he embodies with those he trusts and loves nor with Xander getting to see him as the competent, profound, and thoughtful man he is and growing to find his theatrics a welcome familiarity that brightens the moods of those around him and alleviates some of the stress that weighs heavy on his shoulders >:/ Anyway this became a rant whoops but I simply wanted to tell you that I am eternally grateful for your wonderful writing and carrying this rarepair and ask if you've ever thought about how slowly or quickly their relationship would develop after your fic or how you think they may get together in a canonverse setting

(referring to this fic) 🥺🥺 I love!! Rarepairs!! And I'm really glad you liked "We Meet Like This At Least Once" and had fun with it! Because even though that fic was written in 2017, I had fun writing it and honestly would like to see more Xander/Odin fic where nobody expects that to work and keeps assuming they're with someone else or single, but they are wrong. Anyway, I reread my old fics sometimes and thank you for reminding me about this one. :D

Regarding your question of "if you've ever thought about how slowly or quickly their relationship would develop after your fic or how you think they may get together in a canonverse setting," I think in canonverse, Xander/Odin would bond like in the Gay Fates Hack, wherein they meet over swordsmanship and then get to know each other as people through that. In the fic-verse that I wrote specifically (and ignoring any other AUs that could happen), I showed how they got together. In terms of their relationship developing over time, I imagine there would be an engagement in two years or less. I don't know if Owain pays attention to the passage of time; more so his feelings, and they're already pretty solid about how they feel about each other. Owain liked Xander since he was a kid (childhood crush nurtured into love) and Xander, though his feelings took longer for Owain to grow, recognized those feelings within himself a few months before confessing. With this in mind and having grown up together, they have a solid base to work with already.

First few months of the relationship are getting used to each other in a romantic context + getting to know what each other wants out of the future on a deeper level (kids or no kids, what type of living arrangement would work best for them, what does their financial future look like, etc.) and then the next year or so is routine (and not so different from how their friend & family dynamic worked before, though obviously they have to make much more of an effort to see each other now due to their different schedules. Plus the ups and downs of Owain working + rewriting his book for publication while Xander works hard in the office and probably stays late a lot. So I think the time apart would be their biggest hurdle.)

The one difference between them I could see is that if Owain got the idea to take things further first, he'd suggest living together so it wouldn't be so hard to see each other, whereas Xander, raised a bit more formally, would probably have a ring and propose first and say "let's move in together as fiances/as a newlywed couple." A proposal may come as a surprise to some by that point, but Xander would point out that a year and a half/two years is a common amount of time for couples to wait to propose + they already have known each other much longer than that. So what are they waiting for? This would solve so many problems. And Owain would agree in this universe, I think.

Thank you for asking! :D

[sterlingwhitvale]

He hated when she felt like she had to apologize. Some days it felt as if he was waiting for her to apologize for breathing. Love meant never having to apologize, at least not for things like this. Waking him up by taking all the covers? Sure. But never this. "And you know I can't help telling you to stop," he responded with a raised brow, a warning not to challenge him on that. For as long as she felt the impulse to needlessly apologize, Sterling would be behind her, reminding her there was no need. His own impulse for the action was so strong, he liked to imagine even if he was far past his expiration date, he'd still be sticking around just to do so.

Despite the relief he had felt when she had finally walked through the door, it didn't compare to the feeling of having her skin beneath his hands, able to let them roam her body, confirming to himself that she was safe and in his arms. He didn't trust a fucking soul in this god damn place, not when it came to her. Not when it came to their kids. He knew he must come off paranoid or possessive. But honestly, he was just so scared. Down to his bones he was scared. Between knowing what the capitol truly was capable of, and his knowledge of what was to possibly happen, he felt like he was one of those poor bastards who got caught in a massive earthquake, and described the feeling of once solid earth beneath them undulating as if it was a water, unable to catch his footing or his breath.

But as he heard the soft, snuffling snores of their children, and felt her weight in his lap, he had to remind himself to take the moment for what it was: good. He forced himself to let the warmth of her body relax his tensed muscles, to use his fingers to run the well worn path of her spine he knew well, rather than clenching them into a fist.

"We both know there have been enough nights where you've had to do the same." he responded with a shrug. Between his late night calls to the mill to fix some integral part of machinery and her forced time in the capitol, they both had their share of single-handedly having to get the trio in bed. They were partners, in love, in life, in parenthood. And while of course he preferred the nights where they could tag team the children and fall into their own bed, he could never be resentful of the nights he had to do it alone, knowing what she was dealing with in the meanwhile.

As she buried her face in his shoulder, he knew the next words from his mouth would not be received well, but he couldn't help himself. What was the saying, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results was the definition of insanity? "What if you didn't have to?" he whispered, knowing that even in their hotel rooms, the capitol could have ears. Despite their years of fights over the very same topic, he still wished and hoped that somehow, someday she'd understand his side. That perhaps the loss of yet another tribute would jar her from her frightened state to make her angry enough to see where he was coming from, enough that he could reveal why he had lied about late nights at work, what he spent his time on when she was in the capitol. Sterling's desire of seeing the capitol fall of course stemmed from the greater injustice of it all, but more selfishly, it was for his family. He didn't want to see his children grow up in this world. He didn't want to see his wife die a death by a thousand cuts.

The decision to not let the kids watch the Games had been easy. Sterling had felt so passionately about keeping their children's innocence and not forcing them to witness the horrors that the Games brought, and Cecelia agreed with it. But the decision had also always filled her with anxiety. What would happen to them if the Capitol found out? She knew that President Snow would punish them for their defiance, so she did what she could to give her kids enough information about what they were, and what she did, so that if the wrong person came asking questions they wouldn't know. Luckily they didn't talk about the Games in Eight the way that they did in the Capitol. And the regular Capitol citizens were easy enough to fool.

Cecelia knew that her position as a victor protected her from some things, but it also threw her and her family into the line of fire, into the spotlight of the Capitol, and under the scrutiny of President Snow. Their lives were not their own. Her life wasn't her own. Sterling had been her saving grace, she didn't know where she would be without him. Without him and the kids. They were the joys of her life, and she would do whatever she had to to protect them.

Don't apologize. That had been a common refrain in their ten years of marriage; Cecelia always apologizing for the things that the Capitol made her do, and Sterling telling her not to apologize. What would she do without him? He looked after her and took care of her, he allowed the Capitol to come in and film their lives whenever Snow dictated it, and he never complained even though she had given him millions of reasons to complain.

"You know I can't help it," she replied, a fond smile on her lips. Cecelia didn't hesitate to walk over to him and she perched herself on his lap, needing to feel close to him after the day that she had had. She needed to feel close to him, needed the reassurance of his arms around her holding her close. Being with him made her forget what happened for a few minutes at least, and a smile formed on her lips as he told her about Satina. "My daughter, huh?" She asked. She was always her daughter when she caused trouble. "Sounds like she's taking after me then, causing all of that trouble. I'm sorry that I couldn't be here to help you get them to sleep. It sounds like you have it under control though."

Cecelia buried her face in his shoulder when he asked if she wanted to talk about it. That was one of the things that she loved about him, that he was willing to share in her trauma or he was willing to let her keep it to herself.

She was silent for a long time before she finally got ready to say it out loud. "Benjamin is dead too. We're out of the Games. It was...it was awful, Sterling. I don't think...I don't think I'm ever going to get it out of my head. The helpless feeling of not being able to do a god damned thing to help." A few tears fell down her cheeks. "How am I supposed to keep doing this?" She whispered, her voice barely audible even to Sterling.

[dustyfoxplushie]

Hi! Do you think you could write headcanons of an MC who, after Saeran’s route, gets into a consensual polyamory with both Saeran and Jumin and perhaps our love and their friendship together? Thank you and I hope if’s not too much to ask >x<

hiya!! i tried my best with this and kinda didn't?? do like solid headcanons but more of what i'd imagine how they'd get into a relationship together, i got carried away i apologize! i hope you don't mind too much!! but if you want more solid hc's feel free to send me another ask!! but thank you and congrats for being my first request <3

it was never intended to be the three of you, it sorta just fell into place. and it didn't start as a polyamory, it was only the two of you at first

jumin let you both stay on his personal island, with the only task of documenting the plant life there. which wasn't a bother to either of you, you both loved plants and nature. this was honestly, a dream come true

it was pretty calm until you two discovered an extremely rare plant, you both were pretty excited about it, unable to contain your excitement you had to share it to the rfa

jumin was very curious and even asked to stop by to see it, which you obviously said yes to, it was still his island and you would love to give him a tour of all the plants

he came the very next day, he seemed a little nervous, almost like he was invading but you two did everything you could to make him feel at home, you two took him on a tour of the island, which was a little silly since he owned it but he didn't mind, you both would point at a plant, and one of you would share a couple of facts about it

as the sun started to set you headed back to your home, and invited jumin for dinner, as you cook a lovely meal for you all, you could hear saeran talk about the progress you both made with encyclopedia, he showed him the few pages you've made together

and eventually he returned home, it was oddly lonely without him, but you all continued, but jumin started to drop by more often, especially when he was stressed. and even brought elizabeth once, saeran was a little nervous meeting her but elizabeth instantly connecting with him, rubbing her body against him and purring very loudly, and smacking a small string she'd found

saeran was immersed in his own little world playing with elizabeth, the two of you watched in awe, jumin muttered that they were both very cute, he didn't notice it was out loud until you agreed, jumin was a tad bit embarrassed and tried to back down, but you promised it was 100% okay

jumin visiting soon became a routine to you all, he'd even spend nights with you guys, it was an odd trio to people on the outside, but you all flowed together very well

he'd listen to you both talk his ear off about the native plants or ones that were your favorites, and he'd share the most recent novel he was reading or one of his silly cat-related plans for the company

you and saeran grew very close to jumin, but wanted more, you didn't just want to call him your friend, the both of you wanted to be his partners, you both talked it over and planned out a little date for him

the two of you invited jumin on a walk through the gardens again, you all walked through multiple types of flowers and plants, making small talk through them, jokes and small teases about the other, you continued until you reached a cherry tree farm, jumin's favorite part of the island

the cherry's were right on time to be harvested, the three of you got a basket and started picking them, you made it a competition, whoever got the most in an hour would win, and to your surprise it was jumin

you teased if he wanted a kiss from the two of you, and his face turned a bright pink but he didn't respond, not wanting to make him uncomfortable you offered to make a cherry pie, he accepted and began to head back

jumin and saeran stayed in the living room while you started baking, you heard soft chatter about cherries and elizabeth, and some other topics before it became silent, you didn't notice until you were done baking, you walked in the room to see saeran leading on jumin's shoulder fast asleep

"he's very fond of you, you know" you tell jumin, he looked at you surprised while his face turned the same light pink as earlier, it didn't seem like it was easy to make jumin blush but a part of you was happy that you two did

before going any further with your conversation, you gently wake up saeran, who also turns a bright pink noticing where he fell asleep, you suggest eating the pie on the patio, they agree and you take your slices outside, the sky shines a light pink and purple, while you look at saeran and jumin

you pause taking everything in, the sunset, the two boys in front of you, the day you had, before continuing the conversation with jumin

" i know this isn't traditional. but saeran and i really like you and enjoy your company. the past few weeks have been fun and exciting. and if you're okay with it. we'd like for you to be our boyfriend."

jumin broke out in a smile, not saying anything for a second, while the two of you waited in anticipation, "i thought you'd never ask." he finally responds, you let out a small giggle and lean on jumin's shoulder, continuing to eat your cherry pie