#harry styles vine

[shortiepinocco]

i dont know whats the difference either 🫣

and liam wears polka dot apron niall wears napkin bib -- stop being so cute i dont like it (no pls dont stop) 😭😔

[nostalgiaonedirection]

Best i ever had hips don't lie

[perfectlyimpurfect]

[pathetic-dreamy]

Harry: When you've been famous for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Zayn: Navy blue isn't your color.

Harry: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Zayn*

[loverlessnight]

My Favourite Polin FanFiction: Smut

Dr Bridgerton; or With his educated eyes, and his hand between my thighs: There lay in Penelope a sickness, or so she had been told. A very specific kind that only this physician, as he called himself, could potentially be willing to alleviate for her, if there were any hope at all. At least that was what the flyer had said. A gentleman by the name of Mr Bridgerton had developed a technique of stimulatory effect to relieve the sufferings of women. Of sharp tongues and short tempers gone in a few months or less, within three sessions with his special apparatus.

so come give me a hug (if you're into getting rubbed): The three times Colin and Penelope were just cuddling. You know, as friends. That's all. Really. And the one time- Well, you know.

Only a Kiss: “You want to kiss me?” Colin merely nodded in response, that confident, deadly smile still firmly in place. “As a thank you.” Penelope’s eyes darted from his face to the door, which was still firmly shut. Locked.

Faking It: When the editor-in-chief of Mayfair Magazine insists that Penelope work with a new writer on her sex column, she wants to scream. When she finds out it’s Colin Bridgerton, she wants to murder something (or someone). It’s been five years since she last spoke to him and a lot has changed. Penelope has changed. And she is not about to let him steal her column out from under her. Especially not when he’s under her.

Call Me: If Colin could only want her when there was a few thousand miles between them, so be it. Even if it stabbed brutally at something inside her for nearly two bloody years, Penelope had allowed herself the indulgence, thinking it was all she’d ever get of the man she loved with a wasted, aching, childish heart. One version of him wanted her, and that was enough. Because it had to be enough when it was all Colin wanted from her. Until she met Harry.

Siren: Colin gets cursed while on his travels and finds himself insatiable for Penelope whom he no longer considers a friend.

A Worthy Suitor, Indeed: Friends With Benefits: Regency Style

pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape: Penelope repeats her concerns to Daphne, though with much less comfort than she did to Kate. She regrets now bringing it up. While she’s always been able to afford to purchase new books thanks to her Whistledown money, splurging often would have been suspicious. She can buy freely now and perhaps should have tried to discreetly find a book on the subject rather than explaining to Daphne that she finds her younger brother’s lovemaking to be a little predictable. A lot predictable. The same every time, in fact.

Yes, Lady Whistledown: Colin visits a brothel to try to get over Penelope, and finds a sex worker who reminds him of his best friend... she just happens to have a very particular set of skills...

Friendly Competition: Colin and Michaela play a little friendly competition...

tie me up, tie me down: Penelope needs to learn to give up control. Colin thinks he has the perfect solution

Aflame: Colin Bridgerton had always favoured red heads. He often found it… difficult to connect with another person; even in the most intimate of acts he felt a distance. But when he was with a woman with firey hair, something seemed to flicker in his soul. A few nights after his return to the ton, he attends a masquerade ball hosted by the notorious Madame Littlelove. It's there he spots a courtesan with the perfect shade of auburn. Well, at least he thinks she is a courtesan...

An Anatomy Lesson: Colin helps Pen through the vocabulary of sex.

My Heart Is Thrilled By The Still Of Your Hand: In the weeks leading up to their wedding Colin scales a tree in the middle of the night to sneak into Penelope's bedroom...

Ice Cream and Lemon Custard: Colin was going to show Pen a thing or two about deserts.

Big Deal: One rainy evening Colin decides to teach Penelope how to play poker.

Depravities of Colin Bridgerton: Penelope is Colin’s best friend. He loves her a bit too much.

august: Penelope Featherington is house-sitting for Violet, and Colin comes home early from his travels

sugar we're going down: “I think you should let me go down on you.” Every muscle in Penelope’s body froze. She stood in shock, her fork halfway to her mouth, and then she turned her head slowly to look at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! It's been a long time! The real life it's exhausting, I missed tumblr and your thoughts and theories. Thank goodness I'm already on vacation, hahaha.

By the way, I wanted to ask what are your thoughts about the wands. The magic, how they change the loyalty, how they seems to be "almost" a living being.

Two scenarios I'm really interested are: the one when Harry steals Draco's wand and why Harry has a good compatibility with it but not with Hermione's; and the fact that the Elder Wand doesn't respond well to Voldemort bc is actually Draco's wand and then Harry's. (I think it was like that). I hope it's not too much to analyze.

I'm looking forward to your thoughts! Take care and Happy Holidays! 😊🎉💕

Hi, and thank you so much! 💕 I hope life would get better for you this year!

Now, wands are somewhat alive in the way a lot of magic seems to be. Brooms can sense a wizard's fear, the RoR changes according to one's will, and even the Ford Angelica and the Whomping Willow have a personality. Magical artifacts just have a certain level of sentience and I talked about this a bit already here & here.

Wands just tend to be more sentient than most magical artifacts. I talked about wands a lot before in my Wandlore tag if you're interested. And how each wand has its own personality and how it effects how it chooses its master.

As for Draco's and Hermione’s wands' compatibility with Harry — it's more or less the same. Draco's wand isn't more compatible with him than Hermione's. He remarks it works at least as well:

Harry looked down at the hawthorn wand that had once belonged to Draco Malfoy. He had been surprised, but pleased to discover that it worked for him at least as well as Hermione’s had done.

(DH, Ch26)

This means it might be a little better, but not noticeably so.

Now, Harry's wand is Holly and Phoenix Feather, 11 inches and Supple Flexibility.

Hermione’s is Vine and Dragon Heartstrings, 10 3/4 inches. My guess to the flexibility is "solid".

Draco's wand is Hawthorn and Unicorn hair, 10 inches. My guess for the flexibility is "reasonably supple".

Now, both Hermione’s and Draco's wands are bad picks for Harry. Vinewood is for wizards/witches with ambition, it's attracted to visionaries who see themselves as having a greater purpose. This fits Hermione (who's idealistic when it comes to the wizarding world and elf rights, for example), but not Harry. Dragon Heartstrings tend to be more flamboyant and very obedient, which is kinda the opposite of a Phoenix feather that has a certain detachment to it and is fiercely independent. (Not to mention all the symbolism with death and rebirth that is appropriate to Harry).

Draco's wand is an even worse match for Harry in terms of its stats. Hawthorn is meant for someone who's questioning themselves and their lives in a state of internal conflict. It's a wand of paradoxes and contradictions. It fits Draco of the last two books perfectly, but that's not Harry. Unicorn hair is known as an incredibly loyal wand core. Unicorn hair wands don't just switch hands willy-nilly. Unicorn wands tend to die with their owner, it would not work for another. They also tend to be more emotional but very consistent in their magic — very different than the more temperamental phoenix feather wand.

Actually, blackthorn, as a wand wood, would suit Harry better than either vine or hawthorn. It's a wand wood suited for a warrior, it's said to work best for an owner who it passes with through hardship. That, like the bush it comes from "that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts". All of which should've worked for Harry well enough — but it didn't.

The reason for that is that wands don't remain in their "factory settings" they adapt to the master's personality and style, as Ollivanders says:

 Moreover, each wand, from the moment it finds its ideal owner, will begin to learn from and teach its human partner. Therefore, the following must be seen as general notes on each of the wood types I like to work with best, and ought not to be taken to describe any individual wand.

(Pottermore)

And even gives some examples:

Hornbeam wands adapt more quickly than almost any other to their owner’s style of magic, and will become so personalised, so quickly, that other people will find them extremely difficult to use even for the most simple of spells.  [...] Pine wands enjoy being used creatively, and unlike some others, will adapt unprotestingly to new methods and spells.

(Pottermore)

They absorb some of their owners into them and vice versa. There's a reason wizards feel like their wands are an extension of themselves:

Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist physical pain. He had spilled his own blood more times than he could count; he had lost all the bones in his right arm once; this journey had already given him scars to his chest and forearm to join those on his hand and forehead, but never, until this moment, had he felt himself to be fatally weakened, vulnerable, and naked, as though the best part of his magical power had been torn from him.

(DH, Ch18)

Becouse, in a way, they are. They are alive, and they adapt and learn and change to match their master. There is a relationship between the wizard and the wand. The wand adopts the wizard's personality, becoming an extension of them:

“I hate that thing,” she said in a low voice. “I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn’t work properly for me . . . It’s like a bit of her.”

(DH, Ch26)

The blackthorn wand hates Harry and fights him because its master hated Harry, not because it wasn't won properly. My guess is Ron couldn't make it work any better. This is why family wands tend to work when passed down. Family members usually want you to succeed. And sure, sometimes it isn't a perfect fit, since the wand still has its own personality, but family wands would try to work with the owner to the best of their ability.

(Neville's situation is pretty unique, my guess is his father’s wand has a lot of personality and doesn't like to be handled timidly. And there are woods like that, like Spruce wands which are "ill-matched with cautious or nervous natures, and become positively dangerous in fumbling fingers". But I digress)

Hermione's wand works for Harry becouse they are good friends and her wand likes Harry the way she does. Now, why Draco's wand works for Harry so well is a little telling on Draco, I'd say. I'm not a Drarry shipper, it's not my cup of tea, but this is real Drarry fodder if you want to use it. Draco's wand working for Harry implies Draco wants it to. It works with Draco's conflicted nature in this book, that he does one thing, but his wand, which reveals the truth, tells another thing. And that is that regardless of what Draco says or does he wants Harry to succeed.

Now, the Elder Wand is a special case. It's more sentient than most, but I don't think it chooses masters the way we are told. I think it not working for Voldemort as well as it could had nothing to do with Draco being its master. I don't think Draco was its master nor do I think the Elder Wand treated Voldemort any different than it treated most of its other "masters".

Like Hermione says, a Wand usually doesn't matter as much as the wizard:

“Harry, you keep talking about what your wand did,” said Hermione, “but you made it happen! Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?”

(DH, Ch12)

Wands, generally, don't really cast magic on their own. It's always the wizard's own magic channeled through the wand. Every wand which is a good match to the wizard should perform about the same level of magic. And Voldemort says the magic he is capable of with the Elder Wand is the same extraordinary magic he is always capable of:

“My—my lord?” said Snape blankly. “I do not understand. You—you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.” “No,” said Voldemort. “I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand. . . no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.”

(DH, Ch32)

The wand isn't fighting him the way the blackthorn wand fought Harry. The Elder Wand doesn't really care and would perform for any wizard it considers capable enough, but it saves its own magic and aid only for its real master. Which wasn't Dumbledore or Voldemort or Draco, but Harry — I think it's been Harry since the wand sensed him in the same room because I think he was always the master of death.

This isn't the explanation the books outright give, but it's ambiguous enough that there is some space left to theorize. And that's how I see it.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 9

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hello my fellow snape lovers. i think you will love this chapter. hehehehe. thats all i am saying. and you might hate mcgonagall. </3

you can thank harry styles' song 'fine line' for the ending of this chapter. oop.

thank you for reading so far and for all your kind comments, likes and reblogs! I LOVE YOU GUYS <3

i apologise in advance for any typos or anything along those lines, i suck at proofreading.

VAMOS!!

Your throat tightened as you stared at your dishevelled appearance in the dirty, old mirror that sat crookedly in your greenhouse; overgrown vines of poison ivy enveloping it, slowly reclaiming it.

"Shit..." You muttered, angling your face to gaze at the marks that Snape had so graciously left on your jaw. "For Merlin's sake..." You spun away from the mirror with a distressed huff and headed towards your cabinet in a sweep, kneeling down against the mossy tiles, searching for a herb of some sort that had healing properties. Or something along those lines. You were desperate at this point. "Dittany, dittany..." You mumbled to yourself, digging through shelves and shelves of dusty glass jars and containers. At once, your eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning as the sight of a worn label caught your attention. You thumbed the dust off of the yellowed and faded label, reading it aloud, "D.. di-di-an...y?" You muttered, only noticing how worn the writing really was once you pulled it out into the light. How long has this been in here...?

That has to be dittany, you thought, curious eyes scanning the long and slender, deep mossy green stem that branched out with smaller rounded leaves. You blew against the jar with a sharp breath, a ball of dust and dirt puffing up in your face. You coughed and quickly retrieved your wand, swiftly flicking it to make the heap of dust dissipate. Well, you'd certainly lacked on cleaning your cabinets during the past year, but it's not like that kind of thing had any space in your mind. It was full of... other things.

Your fingers clutched the lid of the glass jar and lifted it upwards, a gentle, spicy yet mountainous smell filling your nostrils. As you placed the lid down with a loud clack, you reached your hand into the jar to retrieve a stem of dittany. You hoped to god this would work, otherwise you'd reluctantly resort to make-up, and that would be even worse. Not that you were awful at using it, but your skintone was almost impossible to match perfectly. You padded back to the rusty mirror in your greenhouse, the richer herbal smell of the dittany invading your lungs as you held it up to your face, preparing yourself to rub it vigorously against the darkening fingertip marks upon your jaw.

"Merlin, please, let this work." You mumbled with a deep breath, pinching the dittany and beginning to massage it into your marked face. You couldn't bear to watch for fear of it not working, so you shut your eyes, avoiding your own reflection. Desperately rubbing a herb against your face to get rid of some suspicious looking marks so the man you were seeing wouldn't accuse you of seeing someone else? Yes, that's you. Dedicated clown.

Hesitantly, you wrenched open your eyes. From what you saw, the herb had done nothing but give you a red rash, in fact, it actually highlighted the purpling bruises. You wanted to launch a rock through a window. Why couldn't Snape just keep his hands off of you? Why did he always resort to touching you? Not that you were complaining- well, actually, this time you were. His reckless actions were going to get you in trouble, but you couldn't exactly blame him. You hadn't told anyone that you were seeing the infamous Benjamin Bluewater. So why wouldn't he... grab your jaw in a fit of rage? Speaking of this, you hadn't really discussed a label with Ben, though, sometimes, he made you think that he wasn't particularly interested in putting a label on your relationship. It didn't bother you, but you'd prefer to know what you were. Were you exclusive? Not exclusive? Was he dating or seeing other people?

What really piqued your interest was what Snape would think of you dating Bluewater. He despised that boy with a burning passion. He'd probably lose a lot of respect for you, surely? But Ben had changed, you'd seen it for yourself.

"Hagrid, tell me that you didn't willingly let the students approach Buckbeak without proper guidance..." You sighed deeply, perched on a felled tree stump as you watched the half-giant-half-man gather some herbs from his personal garden. As the day had progressed onwards, the marks that littered your skin had died down a little, so much so that Hagrid hadn't noticed. Perhaps the dittany did help?

"Am tellin' ya, Y/N, the boy didn't listen!" Hagrid exclaimed, quite clearly stressed. He picked and pulled at the luscious shrubs rather aggressively, placing the stems and leaves into a wicker basket he was holding in his opposite hand. "I told 'im ta' stop!" He continued, his voice strained and panicking. Hagrid stood straight for a moment, his head shaking in a quick back and forth motion. "T-They're gonna want to 'ave Buckbeak slain, I tell ya," he stuttered, "they won't let this go! I'll lose me job too, Y/N!" His voice went up an octave as he glanced at you, his eyes glossed with fear. Hagrid truly cared for his animals deeply, and it pained you to see him so distressed over an accident.

"Hagrid, it'll be alright, I-"

"Y/N," Hagrid interrupted you, a stern look adopted his worn features. You instantly shut your mouth. "This is the Malfoy's we're talkin' abou'. They don't care for nothin', n' they ain't care for anyone but themselves." He finished, turning to look at his hut for a moment, big and grey clouds were starting to push their way across the dim blue sky.

"So... there's no other way? Buckbeak will be killed...?" You asked hesitantly, a lump forming in your throat as the thought of the silver hippogriff slipped into your mind. Hagrid was right, Buckbeak didn't deserve this. But what could you do? You were powerless.

Hagrid only nodded at you gravely, averting his eyes back to the garden in front of him, sucking in his bottom lip as if to stop the tears that had formed in his eyes from falling. You quickly rushed from your tree stump to Hagrid, wrapping your arms around him as much as you could. In this very moment, all you could offer the man was comfort. And so you did.

"It'll be alright, Hagrid." You mumbled against his musky smelling, tatty brown jacket, pressing the side of your face into his large, protruding stomach. A sharp inhale of air sounded from above, and you knew he was sobbing now. "It's okay." You whispered with glossy eyes, leaning back to glance up at Hagrid as he stared sorrowfully at the ground; his big, brown eyes wet with regretful tears. Gods, this was breaking your heart.

"He don't deserve this, Y/N!" Hagrid cried, his gigantic hands rushing to clutch you against his shaking body as he sobbed. "He don't, he's a good boy, he is." He muttered through broken cries. You had to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from breaking down into sobs too. As much as you wanted to cry with Hagrid, you wanted to be strong for him - like he was when you came running, crying hysterically because of... Severus.

It felt weird to use his first name. You hadn't used it since... you couldn't even remember when. You only called him Snape now, and it hurt you to do so.

A couple days had passed by since your incident with Snape, and he had found himself lurking in your greenhouse, sneakily searching for ingredients for his upcoming future classes. The screech of an owl hooked Snape's nose up and away from your cabinets and to the door of your greenhouse. He ducked, cursing, as a Spectacled Owl swooped over his head, the sweep of it's wings making Snape's raven-black hair fly outwards. He watched as it dropped a rather beautiful bouquet of flowers on your desk with a muffled thud, proceeding to fly out of an open ceiling window and perch itself on a tree branch to the right of it. The owl hooted as it watched Snape curiously with big, beady eyes. The Potions Master observed it for several seconds, his eyes narrowing inquisitively. Once he deemed it safe to move, Snape shuffled towards the bouquet, his eyes instantly finding a note attached. He slowly shifted his fingers towards it, opening the folded piece of parchment. His brows furrowed as it read:

Dearest Y/N,

I hope these stunning flowers find you well, the moment I saw them, they instantly reminded me of you, and I had to have them.

Since the day we parted from each other, you have not left my mind. You have ensorcelled me. Enchanted and charmed me. The sweet sound of your perfect laugh lives in my mind, and Merlin, how I miss the way that your smile bewitched my heart each time I had the honour of laying my blessed eyes upon it. 

I do hope Hogwarts is treating you well. If it isn't, you know where to find me.

B.B x

Snape's stomach instantly twisted into a painful, egregious knot as his eyes continuously scanned over the sentimental note. You were seeing someone? Since when? More importantly, who was 'B.B'? Was it serious? It seemed to be, from Snape's basic knowledge of flowers, he knew they were high-quality, expensive ones. The thick, shiny material they were cocooned in also added to his conclusion. Whoever you were seeing was willing to spend a good amount of gold on you. Then, perhaps, was it an admirer? Someone trying to court you? No, it couldn't be, the note said-

Almost as fast as those thoughts had entered Snape's mind, he wiped them away, shaking his head aggressively as he let go of the note between his fingers, backing away from the flowers like a fearful doe. No, he wasn't doing this today. Not ever, actually.

Snape's eyes reluctantly fell to where you usually left a quill and parchment - specifically for him to note down what he'd taken. But it wasn't there. His brows knitted together, perplexed, as he glanced around the room for your quill and parchment. His eyes fell back onto the bouquet of flowers that 'B.B' had sent you. Snape's jaw clenched as he grudgingly padded forwards again, his hand reaching out slowly to lift up the neatly-wrapped bouquet. His hunch was right. That damned bird of yours had dropped the large bouquet on top of his quill and parchment, almost like a silent 'fuck you'. Snape had to force himself not to hex the poor animal as he retrived the materials, placing them beside the flowers to quickly scribble down the ingredients he required.

Snape felt something like a knife poke at his heart as he let his eyes glance over at the handwritten note again, staring at it with cruel eyes. A wave of disgust rushed through his body as he re-read the sickly sweet words. As much as he despised and envied the person behind the note, he couldn't help but agree with how they described you.

Over the next week at Hogwarts, more and more notes, flowers and small gifts began to turn up in your greenhouse. You had felt a bit smothered by Ben, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt - perhaps gift-giving was his love language. As time went on, you noticed that Snape began to slack in leaving notes of what he'd borrowed for his lessons. This confused you slightly, Snape was not someone that neglected agreements or promises. So, you just put it down to being an accident rather than on purpose. You weren't sure if you did that for the peace of your own mind, or hoping it was true.

Snape found himself assigned to the nightly patrol shift this Friday evening. He was a little miffed about it since he had planned to kick back in his room and bury his nose in a book he'd picked up on a subtle trip to Hogsmeade. Ever since he'd read that note in your greenhouse, he'd turned a little more bitter towards people. Including you. The only way he had figured out to hide something as petty and trivial as the feeling of jealousy was by acting a little colder to people. Everyone knew him as the callous and heartless Professor Snape, so it's not as if the students or staff alike would be alarmed by his extra bitterness.

As the Potions Master was strolling absentmindedly in the outside grounds of Hogwarts, two shadowy figures had caught his eye. Instinctively, he drew his wand, his fingers tightening around it. He crouched down a tad, narrowing his eyes in a feeble attempt to try and work out who the possible intruders were. Surely it was just two students out after curfew, right? Though, that idea came crashing down when he heard the sweet sound of your muffled laugh. His body ran cold as another heavenly, song-like giggle reached his ears. What were you doing out so late at night? …And who were you with?

"I'm sorry I kept you so late," Ben said quietly, squeezing your hand as you glanced up at him, the two of you strolling through the outside grounds of Hogwarts. The two of you kept your voices down as it was past midnight now, and you weren't exactly desiring the idea of getting caught. "I didn't expect the pub to stay open past eleven o'clock!"

"It's alright, work was rather stressful this week anyway. I needed a good break." You giggled, quickly placing a hand over your mouth to muffle it. Ben couldn't help but grin amusedly at your widened eyes.

"And you told me I had to be quiet," Ben mused, his eyes flicking back to the ground in front of him. You rolled your eyes at him and nudged him with a playful elbow. "But what happened with work? Annoying first years?" He teased. Oh, he had no idea.

A class of seventh years had been stressing you out since Tuesday afternoon when Jasper Greenlichen, a very intelligent and passionate budding Herbologist, made some fatal mistakes on a mock exam. The second you handed his results back to him, you hadn't expected, nor prepared yourself for such an intense meltdown of emotions. Since that moment, he was nonstop asking questions and asking for your expert opinion on certain ways to structure answers. The boy was absolutely obsessed with improving, and it was becoming extremely tiring for you. You could only help him so much.

"I wish," You groaned, shaking your head for a moment. "Seventh years, actually, one of them had a total meltdown when he did quite badly on a mock exam I'd set up for them." You explained, sighing exhaustedly. "From then on, it was chaos for me. I'd actually started dreading teaching for once!"

"Oh blimey," Ben grimaced at your words. "Sounds terrible." He added with a laugh, pulling you into his arms with a tug. A quiet squeak slipped from your throat as you fell into his chest, his hands snaking down to your waist suggestively.

"Ben," You warned, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at your lips. The bright, pale moonlight glimmered down upon the two of you, illuminating you like two shards of broken glass in the sunlight.

"What?" He asked innocently, frowning as if he was being falsely accused of murder. "I've missed you." He muttered. Your stomach twisted at his words. Had you missed him as well? The only time Ben had poked at your brain was when you'd been with Snape...

"Me too." You replied, staring up at him. Did you just lie to him? Perhaps. Is it terrible if you felt nothing the moment those three words left his lips? Definitely. What a fucking mess.

With Ben facing against the moonlight, the shadows cast on his face made his nose appear slightly larger, and his eyes seemed to turn dark. Were you imagining this...?

Before you could continue to question yourself, Ben's smile faded and his brows furrowed as his hand rose up to your jaw, grasping it gently with his fingertips. Your blood ran cold as he angled your jaw towards the light, encouraging it to illuminate the fading bruises on your jaw. Fuck, there was no way this was happening right now.

"What's this?" He questioned softly, his tone flat. You swallowed, anxiety bubbling at your fingertips as they began to tingle. What the hell were you meant to say?

"Oh, it's nothing," You laughed lightly, leaning away from his concerned touch. Sure, some bouncing bulbs could have caused small, red marks on your face, right? "I was teaching some first-years a couple days ago, some bouncing bulbs got loose." You quickly lied, smiling up at Ben, praying he'd just let it go.

"Are you okay?" He asked once more, his eyes flicking up to yours, burning with worry. A wave of relief washed over you as he believed you. If you'd told him the truth, you weren't sure how he'd react. Perhaps he'd curse Snape's classroom to smell awfully for eternity, or maybe he'd do worse... but you didn't want to think about that right now.

"Yeah, I'm alright, it's happened before." You laughed again, quietly, staring at Ben for any sign of doubt on his face. He continued to study your injured jaw, not seemingly convinced.

"Alright," he nodded at you with a curt sigh, letting it go. "As long as you're not in pain." Ben smiled down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your marked jaw, trailing his lips to towards your parted ones. A gasp left your lips as Ben pulled you closer to him, his fingers digging into your waist hungrily. He kissed you a little harder, and you had to push him away slightly, releasing yourself from his lips.

"Ben, remember where we are." You said quietly, nodding to the grounds of Hogwarts that the two of you were currently stood in. "Someone could see us." You warned, a sheepish and awkward smile picking at the corners of your lips.

"So what?" Ben smirked as he leaned in to kiss you again, his reckless personality rearing it's head once more. You placed a firm hand against his chest, placing some space between you.

"I'm serious." You said again, your tone switching from playful to stern. Ben sighed, nodding, as he waved his white flag and surrendered to your demands. "Thank you." You smiled up at him, patting his chest gently, watching how as he turned his head, that familiar looking shadow cast over his features again, transforming him into your true desire. You tore your gaze away from his face as your heartbeat began to pick up in speed, memories of you and a certain brooding Potion Master flooding your mind. "I should really get going now." You quickly muttered, swallowing the lump of anxiety in your throat as you glanced to the right, avoiding his eyes.

Was this how your life was going to be now? Everytime you looked at someone you tried to move on with, his face would appear? Everywhere you looked, the thought of him would slide into your mind effortlessly - at this point, you were wondering if he had slipped you some sort of potion when you weren't looking.

"Oh right, yeah... I forgot it was so late," Ben laughed awkwardly, noticing your subtle change in demeanour. He wondered if he'd done something wrong. "I'll come and see you again soon, Y/N." He pushed past the niggling feeling in his mind and smiled at you, leaning forwards to press a kiss to your cheek. His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you returned his smile, the overwhelming feeling of guilt beginning to nibble away at your bones. This man was treating you like a princess and all you could think about was the man that had roughly grabbed you by your jaw the other day, leaving bruises on it.

"Send me an owl first, I'd like to be prepared this time." You hummed, referring to how Ben had caught you in your messy casualwear, tending to the plants in your greenhouse and covered in filth. It wasn't a pretty sight - well in your opinion, at least. "See you soon, Ben." You smiled at him as you turned to leave, a ghastly, freezing breeze of cold air suddenly tickling your skin.

"See you later, and... get back safe, please." Ben said wearily as he glanced about, having noticed the sudden drop in temperature as well. You nodded at him and pulled your shawl tighter around you, trying to ward off the cold that was now biting at your bare shoulders. You'd quickly slipped on a dark, rich emerald green dress that fell to the floor, and was slightly cinched at your waist in a shirred fashion, with baggy, ballooned sleeves that reached your wrists. You'd also opted to bring a thick, warm dusty rose-coloured shawl that was currently wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

Walking back to the grand entrance of the castle, your brows knitted together as your eyes stared at the ground that was suddenly frosting over, wilting flowers and withering plants. A feeling of uneasiness permeated your ice-cold skin as you let your eyes glaze over the frozen ground, the clouds above you suddenly turning deathly grey. Your heart began to pound as you immediately took off in a sprint, desperately trying to reach Hogwarts before whatever the hell was coming could get to you.

The air was dead, silent and motionless. Only the sound of your crunching footfalls and your chattering teeth pierced the blanket of silence. You were praying that you were only imagining this, there was no way you could fend off a dementor. As you ran, your hands began to clench and unclench, a layer of sweat forming within them as you continued to run as fast as you could, your chest heaving with complete fear as the cold began to invade your body. You felt as if you were going to die right then and there, dementor or not, your heart was going absolutely mental, pounding against your ribs like an insane prisoner, begging to be let out. Your legs began to slow as the freezing cold began to overpower your body, numbing your legs and sending you tumbling to the ground. You fell to your hands and knees, tears streaming down your face, still desperate to escape as you clambered forwards in vain.

The chilling temperature was becoming too much for your body to withstand, and so you fell to the side, a paralysing scream leaping from your lungs as your worst nightmare suddenly swept in front of you. It floated in front of you, as if taunting you. The haunting noise of a rattling, sucking-like sound surrounded you like a bubble. You stared up at the dementor, your mouth agape in horror, fearful tears brimming your eyes as you watched on helplessly. Your lungs burned with each strangled breath you stole, your limp body falling backwards against the ground, as the dementor glided closer to you, finally kissing you.

You felt as if you were drowning. Your lungs felt as if they were filled with water, stealing your breath away, leaving you to suffocate. All you could see was the dementor, it's menacing appearance rendering you immobile. You were paralysed. You couldn't move, you couldn't run away. This was it, this was how you died.

Then, suddenly, a bright white light pierced the darkness that had almost swallowed you whole. It was almost blinding as you glanced towards it, your vision blurring. You struggled on the ground, your eyes fighting to stay open as they caught a glimpse of what looked to be like... a... doe?

As you let your eyes roll back to the gloomy and black sky above you, it felt like you were in slow motion - everything was spinning and the lids of your eyes were feeling heavier and heavier; the freezing cold that once had you within it's grasp subsiding. The roar of rushing blood in your ears muffled the screaming voice from afar. You wanted to scream out, to beg them for help, but you couldn't. Your voice was no where to be heard.

As you laid motionless upon the frosted grass, your muscles relaxed, your body finally caving as the black abyss swallowed your vision.

Peace.

A quiet rustling of what sounded like metal against metal stirred you awake. You felt your fingers twitch as you gradually shuffled the tiniest bit against some soft sheets that you'd been carefully wrapped up in.

"She's awake." A soft, feminine voice called out from beside you; your eyes slowly, but painfully fluttering open.

"How are you feeling?" A familiar, warm voice poked at your ears. You blinked as your eyes followed the source of the sound, a blanket of relief encasing you as you saw Professor Lupin perched on a chair beside where you laid.

"Erm," You croaked, sitting up on your elbows in a leisurely manner. "What the hell happened?" You asked quietly, confused. Glancing about the room with squinted eyes, you noticed that you were in the hospital wing, sat in a bed, neatly wrapped up like a cocooned caterpillar in blankets.

"You were attacked by a dementor." Lupin put it simply, though he kept his tone soft, a hint of concern laced beneath. "Do you remember anything?" He further questioned you, curious. You looked back to him, letting yourself fall back into the bed. "Here," Lupin reached into his pocket, pulling out a chocolate bar. "It'll help." He said, offering it to you.

You took it gratefully, unwrapping the crackly plastic covering slowly, feeling your mouth suddenly salivate at the sight of the sugary treat. "Thank you, Remus." You smiled weakly at him whilst trying to wrack your brain for any remaining memories of the attack, taking a bite out of the chocolate. You sat there for a moment, staring down at your lap as you sifted through your memories, chewing at a slow pace. You remembered leaving Ben, then the cold... that was it... "No, I'm sorry." You mumbled, feeling a little useless.

"Don't apologise, we're all just very glad you're okay." Remus smiled at you, his moustache twitching. You nodded in agreement with him, keeping quiet. "You were lucky that Severus was there to save you that night." Your eyes instantly snapped to Lupin's, widening in surprise.

"Wait, what?" You choked out. It felt like someone had just punched your chest. Snape saved you? How did he...? Remus seemed a little concerned at your reaction as his brows knitted together in slight curiosity. "Sna... Severus was the one...?" You breathed out, shock stiffening your body, your throat tightening as your lips spoke his name.

"He was." Remus tilted his head at you, inquisitive blue eyes studying you. "He was on duty that night and heard your screams."

You couldn't believe what was coming out of Remus's mouth. Were you dreaming? Were you in some horrible, twisted nightmare? You had so many questions running through your mind that you couldn't keep up.

"Also, you keep saying 'that night', how long have I been... here?" You questioned Lupin, your voice weakening as you glanced around the hospital wing, noticing how empty it was. Only one other person was here and it was a student dressed in a Quidditch outfit with an icepack resting on his forehead. You deduced that he had probably fallen off of his broom during a match.

"Just over two days, Y/N." Remus replied slowly, continuing to observe you for any possible ailments. You blinked.

"What day is it?"

"Sunday," The professor replied before twisting his arm to check his watch. "Six fifty-two in the evening, to be exact."

"Right," You exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling, becoming lost in your thoughts. You thought you were alone outside. Why did- how did Snape know you were there? Did this mean something? Was this his way of- no, don't be silly, for Merlin's sake.

It's merely a coincidence, you chastised yourself. I should be glad he was there, I wouldn't be sat here right now if he wasn't, you thought, sighing frustratedly through your nostrils.

"I need to talk to him." You said quickly, beginning to sit up but Lupin quickly pushed you back down into the bed, his mouth flattening into a straight line.

"You need to rest." He replied sternly, his hand resting firmly against your shoulder as he forced you back down.

"I feel perfectly fine, Remus. I appreciate your concern but-"

"I'm sorry, but it's Madam Pomfrey's orders." He cut you off, an apologetic look softening his features. You sighed at him, a little irritated, but you understood where he was coming from. You did need to rest up, you didn't feel like you were in the best of headspaces. You still felt a little disorientated.

There was a moment of silence before you reluctantly gave in, giving Lupin a soft nod, avoiding his eyes. "Fine." You settled into the hospital bed, glancing out at the window to your right, watching quietly as beads of rain dripped down the glass pane.

"If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask me." Lupin smiled warmly at you. You hummed quietly, returning his smile.

"Actually, Remus, erm," You cleared your throat, shuffling under the pale white sheets. "I was hoping to ask you if you could mentor me? To produce a patronus charm?" You asked, fidgeting with your fingers. Lupin's brow quirked at your proposal.

"Of course," Remus nodded as the surprised expression that had slipped onto his face clearly showed that he wasn't expecting you to ask him such a question. "We can start on Tuesday, seven o'clock. My classroom."

You felt your body relax at his answer. "Thank you so much." You said, your smile widening.

"It's my pleasure, Y/N, now please, get some rest." A gentle chuckle rumbled within Lupin's chest as he tilted his head at you like a parent would at their child. You scrunched your nose up at him jokingly and rolled over onto your side, tugging the blanket up and over your shoulders.

"Goodnight, Remus." You said quietly with a hint of amusement in your tone, closing your eyes. As the echo of his receding footsteps began to grow quieter and quieter as he left, you let your body finally rest, gradually dozing off.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Snape's deep, languid voice echoed from behind his door, sending a nervous shiver down your spine. You'd slipped out of your hospital bed once you had woken up, determined to pay Snape a visit, despite the storm of butterflies swirling in your stomach. When you checked the clock before leaving, it had struck almost eleven-thirty at night.

You pursed your lips, slipping inside his office and leaning against the back of the door as it clicked shut. "How did you know it was me?" You asked a little awkwardly as your eyes flicked to Snape who still had his nose buried in a pile of assignments atop of his neatly-arranged desk. A flutter of envy flew through your chest as you silently admired how organised the man was. Your desk was a mess, you barely had enough time to keep it clean, let alone organised.

"Few people opt to bother me at such an... ungodly hour." Snape sighed, rather exhaustedly, not bothering to glance at up you. Usually you'd chastise him for ignoring you, but you felt like you owed him your life from the whole ordeal a couple days ago, so you chose to brush past the bitterness in his voice. Snape spoke again after several seconds of silence. "Speaking of, what is it that you need from me?"

"Erm," you choked, eyes falling anxiously to the floor, "I just wanted to... say thanks." You said, silently dreading Snape's reply as you looked back up to find him staring at you. Your body ignited at the sight, and you could feel your cheeks starting to burn. Nothing has changed then, you thought, a little embarrassed and somewhat disappointed in yourself.

"I believe we spoke about saying 'thanks'." Snape quirked a brow at you, his dark eyes scrutinising you as you leant against his office door. You huffed at him. He paused for a moment, studying your weak, pale-looking body. "Nevertheless, you're welcome. I suppose such a situation... warrants a thank you." He added, tone flat.

There was another blanket of awkward silence. "Who were you with?" He asked. Your blood ran cold. Here we go, you thought.

"Remember a year ago, when we were brewing the Mandrake Draught?" You spoke hesitantly, avoiding Snape's intense gaze. He hummed, as if to encourage you to continue. "Remember when we spoke about Benjamin Bluewater?" You added, voice going quiet at the end. You braved a glance at the Potions Master, who now looked very disappointed. Fuck.

"You were with... Bluewater?" Snape tried to hide the jealousy in his voice. "Why were you with such a scoundrel so late at night?" You flinched at his harsh tone.

"He's changed, Snape, he's not the same troublemaker as he was in school," you sighed, "he's working at the Ministry of Magic, for Merlin's sake."

"I highly doubt a boy such as him can 'change', Y/N." Snape hissed, averting his eyes back to the parchment in front of him. He felt his skin burning with anger as you spoke about Bluewater so casually. Your heart leapt at the sound of your name leaving his lips.

"And how do you know that, Severus?" You scoffed at him. Snape's hardened eyes snapped up to yours, your harsh tone obviously hitting a nerve in him.

"Boys like him do not change, Y/N, they merely manipulate you to think so." He sneered at you. "And a woman like you is an easy target." He added, igniting a once-extinguished rage within you.

"Excuse me?" Your brows furrowed together furiously. Snape stared at you, an icy glare plastered on his pale face. "A woman like me?"

"You are far too trusting, Y/N," Snape bit, baring his teeth as he rose from his desk, "you are a true Hufflepuff. You have no respect for yourself; you struggle with the prospect of being alone so you reduce yourself to be with a lowlife such as Bluewater." The booming of your heart began to deafen you as you listened to Snape's ruthless words, each syllable digging a knife deeper into your chest. "Are you so afraid of the idea of loneliness that you really think you belong with a miscreant such as him?" He spat at you as you spun on your heels, rushing towards his door, the reality of his words becoming too hard for you to handle. You were breathing so heavily that each breath you took was starting to burn your throat, like you had swallowed the thorny stem of a rose.

Your shaking hand hovered over the handle of his office-door, lingering as you debated between running away like you always did, or confronting your fears.

You turned around, facing Snape with glossy eyes and red cheeks, unafraid. "You have no idea what you're talking about." You hissed at him furiously, stalking towards the raven-haired man with such determination that it made him flinch out of surprise.

"Don't I?" Snape mused, returning to his usual stoic and cold demeanour. He stood tall, towering over your shorter figure, his lips curling up into a sneer as he bent down to look at you in your teary eyes. "I taught the boy for seven years, Y/N. You think I do not know him better than you do?" 

"I..." You stuttered, snapping your jaw shut as you tipped your chin down, submitting to Snape's cruel tone. 

"You deserve better than him." Snape said quietly, softening his tone as he noticed your form trembling with bottled rage and frustration. He pitied you in this moment, in fact, he wished he could save you from such heartache, but it wasn't his place. Not now, not ever.

"You don't know what I deserve, Severus." You bit back in a harsh whisper. Snape's jaw ticked and your chest tightened as his name fell from your lips for the first time in months. He swiftly moved from behind his desk in a sweep, his long, billowing cloak trailing behind him as he stood in front of you; an unusually calm expression softening the cold, unfeeling glare that once laid upon his features.

Snape parted his lips, staring down at you, mulling over his words for a brief moment. "No, I don't," He said quietly, tilting his head at you, studying your distraught eyes. "However, that does not mean I can't usher you in the right direction." He added, clasping his hands behind his back. "It... pains me to see you so... unhappy." You looked up at him, a stray tear embarrassing you as it rolled down your cheek. You quickly swiped it away, and looked away from him, staring at the record player that you had accidentally triggered all that time ago. You felt another bout of tears brim your eyes again as your mind replayed the tender memory of you and Snape sharing such an intimate moment together.

"How did you know where I was that night?" You questioned him quietly, ignoring his previous comment, desperate not to break down in tears in front of the man you had grown to adore.

"It wasn't hard to pinpoint your location when you were screaming bloody murder." Snape replied, a hint of faint amusement lingering in his tone. You huffed at his words, prompting him to quirk at brow at you questioningly.

"Yeah, well," You swallowed thickly, glancing back up at him through your wet lashes. If you asked him any more questions you were certain you'd start hysterically sobbing. "Thanks. Again." You choked out, nodding gently.

Severus hummed at you. He felt unusually warm as the two of you were silent, quietly savouring the rare, peaceful moment.

Your cheeks had pinkened again as you studied his face, your stomach going bananas as your eyes became glued to his. You felt yourself subconsciously leaning towards him, slowly, like the pull of two magnets. Snape's breath hitched in his throat as he watched your eyes drop to his lips, eyeing them hungrily. He hesitated slightly, his mind beginning to race with plentiful amounts of reason as to why he should stop what was about to happen, however, he found himself tossing them to the side, carelessly.

The way the soft, amber hue of the candles illuminated your wet cheeks made you look so fragile, he just wanted to cradle you indefinitely; an aching urge protect you from the outside world. You felt Severus nudge his prominent nose against yours in a gentle, tender gesture; your eyes fluttering at the intimacy. His hot breath was dancing across your face as the two of you grew closer, noses grazing.

Though, before your lips could meet, Snape's office door swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall clutching a candle dressed in her nightgown.

"Severu- oh!" She gasped, watching as the two of you quickly dispersed from each other. "Am I interrupting something?" McGonagall eyed the two of you inquisitively, her lips pouting together. You cleared your throat and clasped your hands together in front of you, blinking quickly. Your cheeks were still scorching hot.

"No." Severus quickly answered, broadening his shoulders as he dared to glance at you. He straightened his posture and averted his attention to his older colleague, staring at her expectantly. "What's the matter, Minerva?" He asked, an underlying tone of irritation in his voice. Your heart fluttered as you looked to Severus, noticing his usually pale face had a tinge of pink to it.

"Black is in the castle." She said with a worried voice, prompting you to snap your head up at Minerva. What? Sirius Black is inside Hogwarts?

Part 10!

oooooo THEY ALMOST KISSED? mcgonagall the cockblock, whoops. i hope you enjoyed another long chapter, please let me know what you thought!! <3 have a great day/night, im about to get some much needed rest :) im so excited to write the next part tomorrow oh my lordddd

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[beware-of-pity]

Cinnamon Girl - VI

Masterlist I Ao3 link I Chapter five - Chapter six

Harry James Potter x Reader

Summary :

The night has a thousand eyes, and the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies with the dying of the sun.

Chapter VI: Oh beautiful poison tree (Let your power grow in me, Let your sorrow flow in me)

. ⚯ ͛

The morning begins like any other, in a frenzy. The halls are packed with students coming and going in all directions. The egg and toast he devoured at breakfast sit heavily in his stomach the whole way to Herbology. Thankfully, he has Ron talking his ear off to distract him from his feelings. It’s easy to simply listen to him rant about Quidditch now that Harry has finally decided to hold tryouts on Thursday, two days from now, and tune out what he’s saying, letting it pass by. He nods occasionally, letting out huffs of acknowledgement to show that he’s listening.

The greenhouse glistened under the rays of the sun. The wind felt like a gentle mist compared to the cold, harsh weekend that had just passed, but the fog from the mountains lingered still. He takes his post at the long table, by the end of it, where a plant sits before him. Its long leaves move like the serpents on Medusa's head. It is calm, but Harry knows otherwise as he dons the protective goggles next to it. Professor Sprout greets everyone and begins the lesson by introducing the little devil to the class. However, he hears none of it. He’s too focused on how the leaves intertwine and twist in all sorts of directions. 

It looks like a big bush of entanglements. Nothing too peculiar. Until he diverts his attention, paying the plant no mind. All of a sudden, one of the vines wrapped around his finger, trapping it and tugging harshly.  Harry frowned, pulling at the plant, which only seems to grow erratic in behaviour. It wraps another vine on the finger next to the one its squeezing like a sausage.  He cursed silently under his breath. Ron is none the wiser next to him, his attention lost between Sprout’s words and eyeing Hermione beside him. Professor Sprout took no notice of his situation as she continued to lecture her students on the properties of the plant.

Trying to free himself only ends in worsening his predicament. He tugs fiercely, but the vine only tightens its grip around his fingers, coiling itself tighter.

“You have to be gentle.”

The words cut through the air like a hot knife on a stick of butter. Melting his once-hardened exterior and leaving him a pool of buttermilk. He’d know that voice anywhere. His head snaps up to look. Sure enough, there you are, peering over his shoulder at the mess he’s made of himself. Your expression is neutral, but there is a hint of concern in your eyes. Those goggles are too big for you, he ends up thinking.

“Gentle” he huffs, as he tries to tug free again “I don’t think it knows what ‘gentle’ means.” “Neither do you” You laughed softly, which makes Harry’s stomach twist. He laughed, too, his skin heating up ever so slightly as the sound intertwined with his. “Maybe no…” You take a seat next to him and pull off your protective gloves. He watches as you stick one of your bare hands into the plant, gently rubbing the leaves between your fingers. "There, there,” you coo at the plant so gently "You're so pretty, aren't you? No need to ruffle yourself for this rude boy.”

It stops its struggle within seconds, almost melting at your touch. The vines loosen their grip and slowly unfurl around his fingers like silk ribbons. Like the ones securing the two fat braids, you’ve styled your hair into today. Green, the same as the leaves of the plant.

Once the plant has finally disentangled from every part of him, you remove your hand from the pot and reach out towards him. “Hold out your hand,” you say. Your voice leaves no room for argument. He obeys without a second thought. His heart picked its pace as you held his hand in yours, turning and examining the thin red marks the vines had left behind. Your touch is gentle like a ghost, softly brushing over his skin.

The contrast of your hands is evident. Your skin is smooth and rid of imperfections. Your nails are filed and round-shaped while his hand is rough, with little cuts riddling up his skin and nails cut off up to the white free edge. Your fingers linger and trace them. You brought the flesh to your lips to kiss, your soft lips meeting the reddened, abrasive skin.

As they do, his heart stops. 

This was new…and sweet. It didn’t fail to make his cheeks burn, and his heart beat ever so faster. He would have heart attacks before the age of thirty at this pace. He watches, mesmerised, as you slowly kiss every red mark on his fingers. Your lips soft but purposeful.

“There" you smiled "Muggles believe that kissing their injuries will make them heal faster, no? Then they will. But, to make sure, I'll ask Madam Pomfrey for an ointment later.”

Harry could only stare as he tried desperately to calm the rapid beating of his heart. There’s something different about you today. Something that makes him want to sit and watch you all day...and yet he’s scared the spell will break if he does. There’s something incredibly sweet about you taking care of him so intently. So lovingly. It made him feel a little weak, and he thought his legs could give way if he lost the momentum. Like the ground beneath him would cave in and swallow him up whole. 

“Then, I’ll be waiting for the cream,” he said, his voice breathless. “I’ll send my cat to fetch you.” “Your cat?” He asked with an amused smile. “Yes. Selene, my most trusted companion.” Harry chuckled, his smile growing wider. The memory of your cat in the library suddenly pops back into his mind. Surely, it was the fluffy thing always sitting beside you or on your lap. He’d seen it just yesterday, curled in the library window, blissfully napping even without you beside it.  “Is that the one that naps all day in the library window?” “That’s the one,” you say, the smallest of laughs coming from your mouth. Your eyes are soft, and the smallest of smiles played on the corner of your lips again. Harry’s heart stuttered a bit at the sight. “She likes naps and chasing mouses when she gets too bored.” “Not too pampered for that?” “Only sometimes, when she can be bothered. She’s a very free kitty.” “I shall see for it myself.”

The fact that he so eagerly volunteers to be her friend warms your heart. That something so dear to you could be appreciated by someone else makes you happy in your own way.

“Good luck with that; she picks and chooses her friends rather carefully" “I can be persuading. I’ll let you know that.” "Is that so?" You raise your eyebrow, sceptical of his boasting. He’s rather cheeky today, and you would lie in saying you’re not quite fond of it.

You missed this. Whatever this was. This nameless situation between you two. "I'm a rather convincing person”, he continues with a big smile, his green eyes flashing mischievously, "if you just give me a chance.” You’ve never really seen him like this before. So blatantly bold with his words. You find it endearing — adorable even — as it tugs at that part of your heart that you had locked up tightly in a little box. You look at the messy state his hair is in, and you have to stop yourself from reaching up and brushing it out of his face. 

Thank god the both of you are at the back of the greenhouse.

You look at him as if entranced by his words, lips slightly parted and cheeks lightly flushed. He is somewhat taken aback by the returning look. With your mouth ever so slightly parted and your cheeks dusted pink, you look unbelievably pretty.

“She likes getting her belly scratched and just about her tail.” “That sounds like good news for me then" he murmured. You're still caressing the two fingers gripped by the plant, sending his mind into an agitative turmoil. "You need to be more careful, Harry. How many times must I come to your rescue?” "As many as it takes, I’m afraid" he chuckled.  You hummed, giving him an all-knowing look, before returning to the plant that had settled, almost bristling in all its glory at the praises you'd previously given it. Your eyes are soft as you stroke the plant, and Harry can practically feel your care fill the air around you two as you murmur words of adoration to the plant.

“Sometimes, all someone or anything needs is a gentle touch,” you said. “It can go a long way.”

The leaves twist and fold, like silk, to reveal green buds coming forth, and as if the season had come, open, gushing forth little white and pink flowers, coming to life for its true self and what once was an unassuming bush of any other slowly blossoms into a beautiful little garden.

"Everything needs a touch of love every now and again.It’s…just not used to being treated well. It doesn’t know better; therefore, it acts out to protect itself.”

He doesn’t question what hides between your words because something in your tone tells him there’s no need; it’s his time to listen.

"Oh, well done, Mr. Potter! Just perfect, I would say." Professor Sprout’s exclaimed praises break the air around you two as she watches in utter delight the blossoming plant "Good, good. Ten points to Gryffindor.”  He swallowed both words and thoughts. He smiled up at the professor.  "Thank you, Professor,” She smiles in that sprouty way of hers before moving on to check other students.  ”You did splendid work" he murmured, his eyes roaming over your face, "but why didn't you tell her you did it?" “What you cannot do, let others do for you, Harry.”

He thinks of those words for the rest of the morning after you two part ways. Lunch is a lighter affair than those of the previous weeks. The warm carrot soup served today warmed his insides and settled far more easily than the toast this morning. But while he was blissfully enjoying himself like a star-struck fool, Ron kept on complaining to Hermione about how the plant had nearly pulled his pinky off.

"How'd you do it anyway?" Ron asked Harry "Professor Sprout was most delighted.” Harry shrugged, his eyes still roaming the room, looking for you. "I don't know, I'm just a natural, I guess.” "Or perhaps you just got lucky" said Hermione, but there was no malice behind her words. If not, a hint of annoyance at Harry’s sudden rise as a top model student into another subject apart from Potion. "Lucky, me? No. I simply have a gift," he smirked, his eyes still searching the room. Ron huffs out a laugh as Hermione sends him a rather annoyed look. "Oh, yes, the chosen one is gifted, alright,” she said, her voice filled with sarcasm. "And so very humble, too. Anyway, we have a double free period after lunch. Library?” "Please," said Ron, "I need time to recover from that stupid plant" he let out a pained moan, massaging his wrist where the plant had grasped him. "Honestly, Ron. It was a couple of vines; that’s all. You act as if they were snakes the size of elephants the way you complain.”

Harry lets them have it out. This is out of his hands now. With one last bite of bread, he's done with his lunch, and one little surprise awaiting at his feet seemed all the more happy for it.

A sudden soft 'meep' from under the table startles him. Purs so loud he could feel their vibration scurry the cat’s body. She looked up at him with green eyes, dashing with bits of yellow, her tail swishing back and forth on the floor, thumping softly against the ground. A tuxedo with a coat so big it almost swallowed her. She rubs her little head against his leg and meows softly. He chuckles, his hand lowering gently to brush her fur. “Hello, Selene.” He greets her with a smile. It’s almost as if he’s flipped a switch inside the cat. The purrs only grew louder, the sound like the engine of a car, as she rubbed her head back against the palm of his hand.  "Aren’t you a sweet thing?" he murmured, and he couldn’t help but smile as she closed her eyes ever so slightly at his touch. "Right," he said to the two as they stopped their banter to look at him "I'll see you too later. I got...someone to meet," he said, gathering his stuff as he hurried on his feet. Ron and Hermione both raise a curious eyebrow, but before they can ask more, Harry turns on his heel and heads out of the hall. “We’ll be in the library!” Hermione calls out. “Right!” He only called out to let her know he’d heard her.

It sounds stupid. Following a cat as she led him around. But she seemed to be stealthy and resolute in her missions. He follows her with some curiosity. She moved with grace and ease. Her head held high as she navigated through the many halls. Her tail swished back and forth as she walked in front of him, looking back every once in a while to make sure he was following. 

Eventually, they’re outside. Little gusts of sunshine blew, strangely bright, and lit up the celandine at the hill’s edge. Under the hazel rods, they spangled out bright and yellow. They would soon wither with the upcoming winter. The grass was still, stiller, but yet gusty with the crossing sun. All the green covering the ground seemed pale with the pallor of endless little anemones sprinkling the shaken floor. Cold breaths of wind came and overhead as he walked down to the banks of the river of the Black Lake. He furrows his brow but doesn't ask the cat, the suspicions growing in his head since..well...she cannot answer him. The sun is still warm, its reflection glistening in the clear water, and the air is crisp as they reach the shores.  There you are, feet deep, low in the water, your socks and shoes left abandoned beside your bag and cloak by the weeping willow tree whose leaves hung and rippled like shed tears, and some dipped in the water. Your back is to him, and your hands are on your front as if something’s in your hands. The sun creates a halo on your hair, now free of its previous confines, blowing along the breeze of the wind, your head tilted downwards as you’re fiddling with something, completely unaware of his presence.

“Come forward.” You broke him of his reverie “I don’t bite, as I’m sure you know.” He swallows, his throat parched and his skin perspiring.  “I’ll never know. You’re unpredictable.”

You turned to face him, your feet undulating in the water. Your hands hold out what’s in them. A frog, as green as spring grass. It lets out a soft croaking sound as it rests in your hands, looking wide-eyed at you two as it moves along your hand.

He raised a brow, amused.

His eyes roamed from the creature to the water from the lake drowning your naked skin. He swallows once more, something stirring inside of him.

“What are you doing with a frog?” he asked, his voice strained as he looked at the creature in your hands. It’s as small as your palm, its small legs stuck to your skin as it moved around. Its beady eyes looked at you both.  “I’m showing him the world,” you said, a small smile playing on your lips. “He’s never seen it from this height before, so I’m showing it to him, all the beauty it holds.” “You think he’ll appreciate that?” “I hope so" You looked down at the frog "He’s a rather quiet companion. But he’s sweet. He’s curious, too. Wouldn’t you be too if you’ve only known darkness, soil and water?” You brushed your fingers over the frog's slimy back as if to pet it, the little creature relaxing in your hands. "I suppose I would be," he said, sounding almost resigned. A stray strand of hair fell forward, and while you did not seem to mind it, Harry's hand twitched involuntarily as he took and pulled it behind your ear. You paused as nimble fingers brushed over your cold skin. For a brief moment, you forgot how to breathe. His hand was gentle, almost reverent. You stared at him impassively. "I suppose Selene guided you well," you said "Seems like she likes you"  Your little lady who had settled on your robe rested her head on your bag, snoozing off.

He managed to divert his eyes to look at the sleeping feline. His fingers trailed over the smooth skin of your neck, just above where a heart pendant hung from a black velvet choker. Little bolts of electricity coursed under his skin as he did.  "Seems so," he murmured. “Madame Pomfrey gave me a cream for your fingers.” He hummed, his fingers still tracing the soft skin of your neck lightly, like a ghost. He did not seem to want to stop, although he knew he should have. "That's good.”

He had to ask, and he had to do it now. Otherwise, he didn’t know when he’d find the ease that would tip him over and draw him closer. He has to ask; he has to know. The words were at the tip of his tongue. 

"I have to ask you, and you know we have to talk about it too. But...Dumbledore has told me everything," he sighed "Why you did...what you did. And I…owe you an apology for how I've acted towards you and some of the thoughts I've been pondering about.”

You only stared at him, your eyes wandering over every inch of his face. From where his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose to his long, thick lashes that framed those beautiful eyes of his, so striking and so very much like his mother's. You pursed your lips before whispering a broken plea of understanding.

”Do I look like him?”

He swallowed thickly, his heart thudding in his chest. He knows exactly who you’re talking about, and the notion hurts him to the core. He shook his head, his eyes locked on your face.

 "No, you don’t," his voice soft, gentle, reassuring, but most of all, sincere.

"But it scares you, doesn't it?" you asked, "that I might.”

He closed his eyes briefly, feeling his heart clench in pain when he heard your words. He nodded, not having the strength to deny it. 

"Yes," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.”It does.” But before your heart could break more than it had been broken already, he said, "But I see you. I know you. And I know that you’re nothing like him.”

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. A strange feeling rushed through you. He looked at you, his eyes mimicking you almost. He’d picked up on a few perks of yours over the time he’d known you. Not that he’d noticed, but your influence had been rubbing on him. His attentiveness over Draco’s movements is as serpentine as yours have been over him. His eyes roamed over your face, and for some strange reason, you couldn’t decide whether it was full of pain or fondness. 

"You make me feel like a fool most of the time," he said, shaking his head.  “And here I thought you’d begun to like it" you mustered "I certainly do.” “And why is that exactly?” He smiled his way through a snort. “You're more like yourself”, you smiled in turn “, like your true, unadulterated self. Fragile, vulnerable. What you don't allow yourself to be.”

He swallowed. Heart in his troath.

“Is that really a good thing?”  “I like to think it is” Your eyes lingered on his wounded fingers “Sometimes allowing ourselves to be weak is exactly what we need — regardless of what we think.” “Weakness is often taken advantage of.”  “If you need to break your opponents into their weaknesses, that only means that you’re not strong enough to oppose them at their strengths. But you…I’ve always wondered what your greatest fear would be, and last year has shown me. I've seen it; It's not that no one will hear you. It's that they'll hear you...just won't care. And he knew that and drew weakness from that.”

It sickened him. All of it. Being unravelled like this. It was an ugly feeling. He bit the inside of his cheek, his teeth digging into the gummy skin of the inside of his mouth. How dare you look inside him and then tell him what you’ve seen? How dare you so clearly see his innermost thoughts?

"He's a plague. The kind of dirt that sticks under your fingers. That enters crevices of your body even you are unaware of, and that is hard to wash away. He penetrates you in all the most painful ways so you'll feel the pain to its core. You have your right over your doubts, I do not begrudge you of it," you argued "All my life, I've endeavoured to serve my house and my family" A rogue anger simmers under your skin ", and somehow none of it matters. We're asked aside....or hated....because of the likes of him. He ruined our lives and expects us to be well with that.”

Your words echoed in his heart, each one slicing through the pain. A deep, burning, righteous anger that had been sat deep-seated within him for what felt like an eternity stirred and boiled once again. He could see the anger, the desperation in your eyes, the bitterness your words were laced with. He’d never seen you so fired, and his body ached to soothe the tension radiating off you.  “You have helped me,” he reassured, “More than you know. And I do trust you.” “Then you truly are a fool, Harry Potter” you smiled bitterly “and I'm a bigger fool than you.” “I find that hard to believe.”

The words made you laugh. A genuine laugh that fluttered his insides with a strange, wonderful feeling of warmth.

You smiled in that cat-like, Cheshire way of yours. The same way the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland did when Harry would catch a glimpse of the movie being broadcasted on the TV whenever it was Dudley’s time to spend hours upon hours just sitting in front of the device. “I suppose you have many questions left unanswered by what you were shown last night.” You said, “What is it you want to ask me?”

Oh, there are so many. Harry didn’t know where to begin, even as he sorted them out in the present moment. But push comes to show, and the one that asks for precedence is the one Dumbledore has asked him to inquire about. And so he must.

“I have to ask,” he swallowed “How do you do it?” “Which?” You asked, “The dreams or the knowing things?” “Both" his voice sounded rougher than he expected, more breathless.

You don't answer, not immediately, at least. It's like you're searching for the answer yourself, looking in the deepest parts inside of you for where you'd locked all your secrets away. You moved, the water surrounding your tendons rippling as you did so. You take a few steps, letting the stones and little fishes move alongside you from under it.

"It comes like a dream, but I am awake. I see things that have not yet happened, but I don't see them. I'm told, but it's not spoken. They're not clear, they're hidden. Meanings, words, significances.”

The birds chirped, and the leaves rode along the wind. It's as if you and he were becoming one with the surroundings of the scene before his eyes.

"Nonsense until the blood is spilt, and then they remember my words. They are not normal dreams, like the brain and the subconscious. It's like... a millipede...always moving, always crawling forward. I speak, but no one listens. They only hear when it is too late. Time is a river, but I do not walk along its banks like the rest. I stand in its depths as the current swells around me. The past, the present, the future. They're all the same water...touching me at once.”

You thread through the water like a siren swimming along the water of the lakes. The water splashed around your ankles. Your legs moved gracefully through the shallow waters. Water surrounded you like a cloak, like a mother welcoming her child. Each word washed over him. Although he barely understood what most of what you were telling him meant, he hung onto your every word. The sound of your voice soothed like a gentle caress upon his skin.

Suddenly, the brown leaves at his feet are swept by the wind — but it is no gentle caress. It blew, strong and heaved as it picked its pace. You turned to him, the strong gush sweeping your hair harshly away from your face as your features turned hard and serious.

"I've been watching you. All of you. All of your lives, your pasts, presents and futures. However unclear they may be. With the thousand eyes and one.”

He had to shield his face from his hair picking at his eyes. What's in front of him is the true horror of the body. Your eyes have turned to the back of your head. White pupils stared at him. In between your forehead, a four-pointed star glowed in the same colour. Little pointy triangles litter the outline of your eyes. They map your soft skin as if a constellation of stars weaved itself on it. The leaves pick along the wind, creating a tornado of anything but violence in nature. 

"My ancestor did this to us. It is a curse we chosen must carry from birth. Every time a blessed one dies, a new one is born. It is the greed of men to seek greater things that the human body is not designed for. I call it weakness!” you spat “What is the power of magic next to the power of prophecy?”

Harry doesn’t know. He’d wondered why that prophecy was so important that Voldemort had need of it. How could mere words spoken by a woman as mad as March Hare truly be taken for anything but words spoken in a mental frenzy? Sybill Trelawney did not have the reputation of being a reasonable woman. But you….you never forfeited the opportunity to show him that you spoke truth, never deceiving the words you spoke of. 

You held your hand out for him to take “Come.”

Every bone in him screamed for him not to do so. This was different; you weren’t merely asking, you were commanding. And it wasn’t the girl that he was speaking to merely seconds ago doing so. But it’s as if a spell has been cast on him. His body obeyed immediately at your command, against his better judgment. His hand reached out, his skin tingling and almost burning as his fingers brushed across your skin, soft and warm under his touch. Lines as white as snow weaved through your interlocked arms, sealing what he’d just allowed himself into.

He's falling. It's slow, his descent in the water of the lake with you was feather-light. When he’d hit the water, instead of his lungs filling with it, it was air that greeted him. When he opened his eyes, it was not water that graced and burned at his irises. No, it's darkness. He was falling, but it was not a painful descent. His head was empty, the air around him clear and light, the waters gently carried him through. He tried to look around but could not see anything but darkness. Even so, he was strangely calm. It washed over him when he grabbed your hand, gripping at the smaller flesh. His body was strangely heavy as he floated, his limbs soft and sluggish.

It’s dark, eerily dark. The inky blackness that surrounded him was the only thing he could see. He’s unable to understand where he was or where he was been standing. All around him was devoided, a dark and endless void. He took a few steps, treading slowly as he looked around, standing in absolute nothingness. He tried to move, but it was slow and difficult as if he moved through something thick and viscous — making him grow nauseous. His heart beat against his chest, the sound loud and prominent in his ears. His breathing grew heavy. For a moment, he just floated in the darkness. But the moment he looked back at you, you two were no longer in the nothingness of everything and nothing.  He's in a cave or rather a cavern, he thought. The great place that opened on the abyss was as black as pitch, black as tar, blacker than the feathers of a crow. The moon shone down upon the great hole in the ceiling, a black hole in the sky. Tree roots grew all around his feet. White and of all shapes and forms as they twisted and waved through his feet. The moon was fat and full. Stars wheeled across a black sky. Rain fell and froze, and tree limbs snapped from the weight of the ice. Down here, no wind, no snow, no ice, no dead things reach out or exist - only dreams and rushlight and the kisses of the ravens. And the whispers in the darkness.  

"Steady" he felt you slither your hand into his, locking your fingers together "and breath." His hand gripped your own in a deathly grip. It’s hard to do so, as you say, but your presence reassured him that things would be well because you were there with him. His hand trembled in yours, but he tried to steady it, holding onto you like a lifeline. His eyes dilated wide as he took in every detail around him, trying to comprehend what was happening. The place was odd. He was not meant to be here. The wrongness of the whole thing crawled under his skin and made him uncomfortable.

“There is someone I wish you to meet,” you whispered in his ear. “Show no fear. He does not like it.”

It’s hard not to — fear whatever you want him to face. He knows better than to not listen to your words. You smiled when you noticed the slight slump of his shoulders, the tension in him coming down. He knew there’d be no use in showing any weakness, and whatever you wished him to face, he would — as long as you’d be there with him. Standing tall before you two is a dead willow tree, its branches have withered, no leaves hanging from them. A throne of limbs sat at the centre, and upon it rested a man lounging about it. His hair was white, a wispy thing, full in some parts and as fine as a line in others. The cloak dropped over his form and almost made him broader than he was, for the skinny and scrawny by the age he hid under his clothes. His eyes were an empty white, like those yours turned to just moments ago. The same star scarred the skin between his brows, printed on by a hot brand.

No mark could be left in that way otherwise. It was raw, red, blotchy and dripped blood. The star did not glow the way yours did. He was old and wrinkling with age. He regarded Harry with chill disregard. The man was unearthly in a way he had Harry doubting whether he was of flesh and blood and not made of the same bark as the tree he sat before. His eyes held a cold glint in them.

"Defiance in the eyes. Like his father.” he made a ghastly sound that might have been a chuckle. He spoke in parseltongue, a husk, serpentine slick of the tongue. His grip on your hand tightened. 

No fear, you said. No fear. 

"Do not speak of my father.” "So much arrogance in the face of something so much larger than you.” the voice reverbed about the cavern. It echoed off the walls, bouncing around him like a trapped chamber. Each word hit him like a wave, washing over him and making his skin crawl. He wanted to turn away, to cover his ears and block out the sound of the man's voice. But he stands firm, his gaze locked on the stranger, refusing to show any signs of weakness. "Foolishness" the man hissed, his white eyes fixed on Harry. "Bravery without wisdom is foolishness. How can you stand there, so sure of yourself, when you are no more than a child, lost in the darkness?” “It is courage" you spoke against the accusation "An endurance that shows his prowess.” 

Your parseltongue was an individual melody combined into a multivocal harmony shared by their voices. No fear laced your words, holding strength as the tongue of snakes rolled off your lips like it was meant to do so.

Harry’s grip tightened around your hand. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing was heavy, but he refused to let go. The nameless man turned his gaze on you, his pale face and white eyes set on studying you with an air of curiosity. 

“He is not one of us.” he said “This place is for the blessed ones.” “He will soon be worthy,” you said, chin raised “This place belongs to those worthy to enter.” “He is no Gaunt!” the man bristled. “No blood of mine flows in him. This is our paradise! Where the blessed children of Gaunt prosper. No one else shall be let in.” “I am your blood. This is my paradise too. I shall let in who I wish, grandsire.” “That you are, girl. You’re part of me, true. But you speak of treachery! Allowing outsiders in this place. Here, we are safe. This is our sanctuary. No one else is allowed in. This is but too dangerous to reveal our secret. Everyone else understood that. You and your pride thought you could prepare him for what’s to come.” “Was I wrong?” You challenged the man, walking past Harry, your hand leaving his, as does your presence at his side, as you approach the man and the wooden throne of rotten limbs. “He is the chosen one, after all. He holds to him a cause never seen before, and for him to succeed, we must convert the nonbelievers one by one. We shall start with the one that does not believe in himself the most.”

The man considers your words as he returns to regard Harry.

“The chosen one.” he spat the words as if the taste was bitter on his tongue. “As fated by the prophecy: Harry Potter.” he chanted his name. “The chosen one. You don’t look chosen to me.” “I didn’t ask to be chosen,” said Harry. “We don’t choose our destiny. It chooses us,” the man lectured “We don’t ask to be chosen, we just are.”

This nameless man held the same wisdom as you did. The same calm and quiet understanding. But he was different. He was a snake, and Harry felt weary of him.

“But I understand the will to escape the unwanted. I chose my own destiny. Drawn by my own hands, from the ashes from which I was reborn.” “And what are you, exactly?”  “Why, I am but the thousand eyes and one”, he said. “The gift I blessed my family with.” A scrawny finger lifted from the armrest of the throne, using it to point at his bleeding scar of flesh. The movement looked almost painful, and you, who’d come to stand beside his throne, reached out almost as if to help him. “Did they brand you with that mark?” “They branded me once I was finally able to open my eyes,” he said, sounding tired. “And I was worthy of finally seeing. Of being given that which I was deprived. My sight.” “Your sight?” “I was blind” he gestured vacantly with his finger in the air “By birth. My mother…used to tell me I was cursed. She tried everything, but it was never enough. She hated me. I was the imperfect one. The defective one in the sea of healthy sons she’s had.” Harry gulped heavily, heart in his troath. “You’re Ominis Gaunt.” “I wore many names when I was quick, but even I once had a mother, and the name she gave me at her breast was Ominis, true.” “H-How are you still alive?” “He has lived beyond his mortal span, and yet he lingers. For us, for you, for the realms of men. Only a little strength remains in his flesh. He has a thousand eyes and one, but there is much to watch. One day, you will know.” You answered for the man.

Harry looked your way, his eyes moving frantically. But you only stared at his smallness from where you now stand, eyes as white as the milky trail of the stars, the stars under your eyes shining as brightly. You nodded at him as if to confirm the words of the man.

“You must have realised now what is happening.” Ominis said, “This is but another dream, Harry Potter. We stand now in between time and space. Where everything is true if we will it. The subconscious is the innermost part of our brain that connects to the hidden eye. It is a blessing that I’ve bestowed upon my bloodline. Our paradise. Our sanctuary of wisdom.” He must speak true. The undeniability of the very fact he stood here gave the man all the cards to hold. A weird feeling settled in his bones. “But the girl spoke true. You must be converted.” He said “So many men, the risk so little. They spend their lives avoiding danger. Then they die. I risked everything…to get what I wanted. Would you? Would you sacrifice everything to have what you wish for? Are you strong enough to leave foolish mortal fantasies about having it all when the dark comes knocking at your door?”

His spine shivered. Ominis’ words rang with truth, and he weighed heavily on how to answer him. A simple affirmation will not convince this ancient being. He let the words hang in the air, a heavy weight pushed against his shoulder like a great burden. He understood all too well what was being asked of him.

“Being chosen is one thing.” Ominis reprimanded, “Abiding by the role is another. Harry Potter, will you be able to vanquish the darkness of the Dark Lord?”

He took a shuddering breath, looking from you to Ominis, only to be met by the same pair of eyes wherever he looked. It turned him insane. His heart ached at the heavy, almost forewarned words. But he’s made it this far, and to give up now, felt wrong. “I will.” His voice was steady, and his words held certainty even if his conviction was wary. “A man’s vows are but words. Easily spoken, easily broken” Ominis tapped his fingers on the wood of the throne as if pensively “Men forget. Only the wind remembers as it carries their words at the far end of the world.” He swallowed “They will be kept.” “As I said, endurance” you smiled “He does not lack in determination.” Pride blossomed in his chest, your words only strengthening his predisposition. It made him want to do better. To prove you right in your words. To become someone worthy of being called the Chosen One. “You can’t make up for what you lack with determination.” Dismissed Ominis “He who you’re destined to fight grows stronger while you grow weaker. How will you make for that on your own? That Old man of yours won’t live forever. Flesh and bones, frail and weak. He is only one man, child. Even the strongest man can be felled by a single dagger.”

Again, he spoke true. Sure, he was harsh, but the harsh reality of the time he was living in is something that Harry had to face. He’d been mulling on it for a while now, but the blackened skin on Dumbledore’s hand did raise in him all the alarm bells and his sixth instinct telling him something was gravely bad. Ominis’ words only confirmed what his heart already whispered at him.

“I have to try. If I don’t, then what have I been fighting for?” “We all have our battles to fight. Some not of our choosing. But it’s how we decide to fight them that’s most important.”

How he chooses to fight will decide wether he defeats the Dark Lord or not. He had to be wiser this time.

“You can’t do it alone” instructed Ominis “You need people. Strong people. Convincing people. With the hearts of lions and wills of steel to stand by your side even as the hours grow dark and the end seems far. Even when you’ll have to choose to sacrifice yourself for others.”

In front of his very eyes, the past seemed to flash before them. The faces of the people he trusted most, of those he thought most nobly of, appeared before himself. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, the Weasleys, members of the Order and Dumbledore’s army. They all believed in him, put their trust in him, and supported him. People that loved him and that he loved in return. People who had stood beside him every step of the way. People that he considered family.

“There are more people willing to help you out there than you believe, Harry.” Your voice reassured in its reassurance, “You just have to let yourself be helped.” He couldn’t win the war alone. That kind of burden was not meant to be carried by one pair of shoulders. You were one of those people, he thought.“Always optimistic, aren’t you?” Ominis scoffed at you. You definitely were, but Harry knew you had your reasons to be. It warmed his heart to see how much you saw the world through rose-coloured glasses. He looks to you, his heart suddenly full. “He needs optimism.” You prided on your words, “In this world of darkness, let him be the light.” “Optimism will not help him when in danger.” Ominis said, “Security in the path he’s taking will.”

Optimism couldn’t be enough to keep him safe from danger during the difficult time ahead. Security is what he needs. But he craved the encouragement your optimism gave him. A real morale boost.

Ominis turns to you, and you nod. 

“My granddaughter here speaks greatly of you, and she does believe you can heed into the danger that forfeits your life. I don’t know whether I should call it juvenile naivety or she has seen something which has evaded me. Which impossible. She’s not as strong as she believes herself to be. She can trick the mind but cannot predict it.”

You turn your cheek to the man, head tilted to the moon in wounded pride. A sore spot the man perhaps touched too much.

“We’re not seers. We don’t make-believe the future. We are the future. We don’t make false readings. We speak what the gods give us to believe.” The man chuckled weakly “I will tell you a funny story if you’re willing to listen to an old man like me.” “Please,” Harry said quietly, eager to hear him speak. “I was a boy like you once. A student. Never did my professors look down on me for my inability to see. But I knew. I could feel that they worried about the way my blindness would affect my future. Hogwarts was like my home, but the world outside wasn’t. When I graduated, I wanted everything but to return home. To my family. To my parents, that would torture muggles for the fun of it. I disappeared and travelled to the hidden corners of the same world that I couldn’t see. I paid passage with a stolen necklace of my mother, and the ship I sailed on took me to Greece. I had heard many stories of the place my aunt Noctua was most fond of. She, too, took to the same aversion for our family’s perversions. She was like me. An outsider. Despised and a despiser in turn. She took to travelling. Under false pretences, of course. She told me stories of the friends she made along her journeys and said that one day, they would welcome me just as they had her. And so I sought them out. Thought they would help me find my place in the world. In the end, I received more than I bargained for. My aunt’s friends lived near the mountains. I was stubborn and decided to hike there on my own, the same as the villagers on their mules did. But I never reached the peak. I fell down a hole and went in and went out of consciousness for days. Until someone found me.”

The picture that painted Harry’s mind was not a kind one to the eye. The idea of hiking the mountains without the ability to see settled a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. The idea of the dangers that Ominis had put himself up to and must have exposed himself by travelling alone and on foot was so immense that Harry thought of never considering doing something like this at any time in his life.

“But what found me was no villager or paesant. No, it was a woman. Old as I am now before you. She nursed me back to health, right where I’d fallen, and once I’d recovered, she took me to the others.” He said, “They were no ordinary humans, but not quite wizards either. They of a magic so ancient, older than the one I was taught, worshipped destiny. Living the fate of everything. They told me they knew of a way that would make me see. To gain the sight no eye could possess. Tribulations and trials, hard on the body, mind and soul, broke the boy who fell into the cave and turned me into a man. The hands of the gods became my witness, and I turned into the voice from the outer world. The thousand eyes and one.” Ominis smiled. Madness bordering insanity. “Where no one could stand against me. The one that would lead my blood into paradise!”

Ominis made the power sound so glorious. But the insanity which he spoke with hung in the air like a dead rat. Rotting the air and blackening the lungs.

“Women, men, children have long suffered too much under that spawn that comes from my brother’s blood. Tom Riddle! Fear the moment, Harry Potter, but we will not lay our wands for a man who thinks he can have it all until we have liberated the people of the world from the evil within which he fills with!” Ominis raged, “Will you break the chain with me?”

Despite the fear the man provoked in him, the anger he emitted was one he shared. It radiated off him, and the passion with which he spoke was almost infectious. Voldermort’s true name was spoken with no fear and with such disdain, such hatred, that he too felt it come alight inside him. The idea of a world free was an appealing one.

“Never fear the darkness, Harry Potter.” Ominis’ words were accompanied by a faint rustling of wood and leafs “The strongest trees are rooted in the darkest places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother’s milk. Darkness will make you strong. We will help you with that. Kill the boy, Harry Potter, and let the man be born.”

Darkness. Such a constant in his life. Something that had hung over him since his parents died. But the way Ominis spoke of it gave him a new perspective.

‘Maybe it’s not a curse,’ he thought, ‘maybe it’s a blessing.’ And when you smile, he does so too. Darkness. A cloak and a shield. The milk of his mother would nurse him through life and death. Darkness - he knew it better than anyone; the feeling of it enveloped him. But you, you smiled at him, a sight to his weary soul that only determined him more.

With another gush of wind, you two are nigh returned to the shore of the Black Lake. Your hands are interlaced as they were before you were transported into the cavern. Your feet had grown pruney under the water, lounging still in it — but now so are his too. His shoes were wet, outside and inside, the soles were filled with water, and he knew two days best for them to try completely. The hem of his trousers stuck to his socks underneath, but he doesn’t care; he’s too busy staring at you. Your eyes, those beautiful, striking eyes, stared back at him. The star between your brow and those sticking under your eyes are gone for good. He never wished to see a sight like that again. It frightened him too much. You smiled at him still “Do you see now?” He nods, now certain and at peace with his mind. He felt dazed but so alive. So unfocused but so in the moment. As if he could go against Voldemort ahead now and puke at the same time.

It’s the same feeling as when he’s woken from your dreams. He felt bizarre but good, nonetheless. “Yes” his voice is no more than a whisper.  “Allow your fears to pass you and through you. What remains will be your strength, and only you will stand again in the end.” You said. He let out a shuddering breath. He took another before squaring his shoulders, slowly letting it out. He repeated the mantra in his head. 

“Open your eyes to what you’ve been blinded, and you will finally see that you’re stronger than he wasn’t you to believe you are.” His heart thrummed against his chest, wanting to escape its confines and the enclosure of its cage. The words seep into him, and like a sponge, dry and deserted, he engorged them all, thirsty for more. He felt them in his bones. He was stronger than Voldemort would like him to think. He was stronger than he himself believed. 

He stood there in the water, determination washing over him in the same way the water of the lake washed over the shore. He is strong. He can see that now. ‘Through the ashes, I was reborn’. Ominis had said and Harry felt the same.

He’d been reborn.

. ⚯ ͛

Taglist: @dovellici @thehufflepuffwife @llunarpotter @xxxyukitoxx @stvrlavs @b4tm4nn 

[bluephoenixgirl]

Fairytale

Prince!Harry Styles x Peasant!Reader

Warnings: Forbidden Love, Some Fluff, Some Angst, Little Age Gab Between Harry and Reader, And Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry If I Forgot Any!)

Summary: Y/N’s father wants his daughter to have nothing to do with the royals, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from falling in love with Prince Harry.

Word Count: 2,773

Author’s Note: I’ve wanted to write something like this for the longest time! This story is based off of so many Disney movies! If you aren’t a fan of Disney movies or fast moving love stories, I would skip this one! Anyways hope you all enjoy my first Harry Styles story!!

Y/N was in her bedroom brushing her Y/H/L Y/H/C hair. She was using the small mirror that was hanging on her wall. Y/N lives in a small town with her parents. Y/N is the only child and just turned nineteen years old a couple of months ago. They live in a two-bedroom farmhouse.

Y/N and her parents grow crops and sell them in town to make money. They have a little stand in town and sell fruits and vegetables. Sometimes her mother even makes bread to sell as well.

After Y/N finished brushing her hair she set her brush down onto her dresser. When she looked out her window the large castle caught her eye like it always does.

King and Queen Styles live there with their twenty-one-year-old son named Harry. Prince Harry is an only child so when his father passes on, Harry will become King. Y/N has always wanted to go to the castle. Every-time she sees the castle she can’t help but stare at it in awe.

However, that dream always get’s shattered by her father. Since Y/N and her family are peasants her father thinks they shouldn’t mix with the royals. Her father tells her that royals are snobs and don’t care about peasants which is absolutely not true. Maybe it was true when her father was younger, but the the royals now truly care for everyone. No matter how many times Y/N has told her father that, it just goes through one ear and out the other one. It breaks Y/N’s heart when she hears her father talk bad about the royals.

“Y/N! Come down and eat!” She heard her mother call out to her which broke her gaze away from the castle. “Coming!” Y/N called back out. She slipped on her brown flats. She gave one last glance at the castle and then walked out of her bedroom.

She walked down the steps and into the kitchen. Her mother was fixing her a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and her father was sitting at the table reading the daily newspaper while drinking coffee. “There you are! Sit and eat.” Her mother told sitting the plate of food down on the table in front of an empty chair. “Thanks mother.” Y/N said with a soft smile as she sat down at the table across from her father. “You’re welcome, dear.” Her mom said returning the smile and walked back to the counter to start cleaning up the mess she made making the food.

“While your mother and I are at the stand I need you to stay back and pick the crops.” Her father told her putting down the newspaper, so he was looking at her. “Yes, father.” Y/N told him with a nod and took a bite from a price of bacon.

Y/N did everything she could to hold in a sign or groan. She hates having to stay back and pick the crops, but she knows not to argue with her father.

Her father has a soft spot but when it comes to the family business, he is very stern and strict.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N was out in the garden picking the vegetables and putting them in a big basket. She was almost done picking all the vegetables and then after that it’s time to pick the fruits. Y/N stood up from the ground to put her hair up into a ponytail. The sizzling sun was making her sweat. After she finished putting her Y/H/C hair up, she knelled back down into the dirt and continued to pick the cucumbers off the vines.

Once her hands were full, she turned to put them into the basket she was met with a surprise that scared her. It was a big white horse eating the carrots out of the basket. “No, no, no!” Y/N said dropping the cucumbers so she could shoo away the horse. “Bad horse.” She said standing up and guiding the horse away from the basket.

“Where did you even come from?” Y/N asked as she lightly petted the horse. “There you are.” She heard a voice say in a relief tone. When Y/N saw who the voice belonged to her eyes went wide in surprise. It’s the prince. Prince Harry. He was wearing black dress pants with a white buttoned up shirt. Y/N didn’t realize she was staring at him till he said something.

“I’m so sorry about Sparky here. He likes to escape.” Harry told her walking over to her and the horse. “It’s okay, it happens.” Y/N told him in a reassuring tone. “Thank you.” Harry told her with a kind smile. Y/N returned the kind smile. “You’re welcome.” Y/N told him.

“I’m Harry, though you probably already know that, so I don’t know why I’m telling you that.” Harry said as his cheeks turned red in embarrassment. Y/N couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “It’s okay.” Y/N told him reassuring him again. “I’m Y/N.” Y/N said introducing herself. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Y/N.” Harry told her. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Prince Harry.” Y/N said back. “Please, just call me Harry.” Harry told her. He hates when people always call him Prince Harry. When people just call him by his name, it makes him feel like a regular guy. “Okay, Harry.” Y/N said correcting herself.

There was a silence between them as they just stared into each other’s eyes. Y/N was the first one to look away as she snapped back into reality. “I should get back to work.” Y/N said to him. “Wait!” Harry said before she could turn and walk away. “Are you doing anything tonight?” Harry asked her in a curious tone. “No.” Y/N answered with a shake of the head. She was a little confused on why he was asking her that question.

“At the castle tonight, my parents are holding a ball that’s opened up to everyone. I would love for you to come.” Harry said which made her heart rate speed up. He wants her to attend the ball. She wants to attend, but she knows her father won’t let her go. “Oh, I don’t know.” Y/N said with an unsure tone in her voice. “Just think about it.” Harry told her with a charming smile which melted Y/N’s heart. She watching him walk away with the horse.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Once Y/N finished picking all of the crops she went inside to take a shower and wash off all the sweat and dirt off her skin. When she finished brushing out her hair, she heard the front door open and close which meant her parents are home. Y/N quickly walked out of her bedroom and down the steps. When she walked into the kitchen she heard her parents in the living room. She walked into the living room which got her parents attention.

“Mother, father, I have a really important question to ask.” Y/N told them. “What is it, dear?” Her mother asked her in a curious tone. Y/N took a deep breath to calm her nerves down. “Tonight, the castle is having a ball that’s open to everyone, and I was wondering-” Y/N was saying but before she could ask the question her father cut her off. “No, you’re not going.” Her father told her in a stern tone.

“But father-” Y/N said, but again her father cut her off. “No! I’m not letting my daughter go to a snobby ball!” Her father told her. “The answer is no and that’s final.” Her father told her with a stern look in his eyes.

Tears quickly filled Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes. Her father wouldn’t even let her talk.

Y/N just turned away and walked out of the room and into the kitchen. She went upstairs and into her room.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N was in her room sitting on her bed with tears rolling down her cheeks. It wasn’t fair. Her father is being unreasonable. She doesn’t know why her father has so much against the royals. They have never taken away anything from the townspeople.

Y/N heard a knock on her wooden door. “Go away!” Y/N called out not wanting to talk. She thought it was her father, but she heard her mother’s voice instead. “I have a surprise for you.” She heard her mother tell her. “Okay, you can come in.” Y/N called out to her as she used both of her hands to wipe away her tears.

Her mother walked into the room holding a beautiful blue ball gown. “Oh my gosh.” Y/N said in amazement as she got up from her bed. “Do you like it?” Her mom asked her to close the door. “I love it! It’s so beautiful.” Y/N said looking at the dress in awe.

“I was wearing this dress the night I met your father, and I want you to wear it to the ball.” Her mother told her handing the dress over to her. “You’re letting me go?” Y/N said taking the dress with a surprised look in her eyes. “I know that this is your dream.” Her mother told her with a smile. Y/N’s lips turned up into a big smile.

“Now let’s get you ready for the biggest night of your life.” Her mother said with excitement in her voice.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N’s mother helped her change into the dress that fit Y/N perfectly. Her mother pinned up her hair and did her make up. The make up matched the dress’s color. Her mother gave her the matching slippers to the dress. The slippers were the same color as the dress but were sparkly. Her mother told her to be back by midnight and helped her sneak out the back door. Y/N thanked her mother and made her way towards the castle.

When Y/N got to the castle she looked up at it in awe. It’s even more beautiful up close. When she walked inside, she was surprised she wasn’t nervous. She couldn’t believe she was inside the castle. Y/N followed the crowd to the ball room.

She looked around the room till her eyes landed on Harry. He was all dressed up into his royal suit. He didn’t look very into the gathering. That was till his green eyes met Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes. His lips turned up into a smile as he walked over to her.

“You’re here.” Harry said obviously very happy to see her. “I’m so glad you decided to come.” Harry added. “I’m glad, too.” Y/N told him.

“You look beautiful.” Harry told her which made her heart start race. “Thank you.” Y/N said with a little giggle.

“Would you like to dance?” Harry asked holding out one of his hands for her to take. Y/N felt no hesitation. “Of course.” Y/N answered putting her hand into his’s.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N spent the whole evening with Harry. They just have the perfect click. The whole night they couldn’t keep their eyes off one another. Harry took Y/N outside to one of the balconies so they could get away from all of the noise and get some fresh air. They sat down onto one of the benches and looked up at the stars.

“The stars are so beautiful.” Y/N said looking up at the stars. “They sure are.” Harry said looking away from the sky and at her. Y/N looked over at him and their eyes just locked.

They started to lean in but before their lips could touch the bell from the clock tower went off. It was midnight which meant she missed her curfew.

“Oh no!” Y/N said with panic filling her body. “I have to go!” Y/N said quickly standing up from the bench. Before she could run away Harry took her hand. “You have to go? Why?” Harry asked not wanting her to leave. “I was supposed to be home by midnight. My father doesn’t even know that I’m here.” Y/N told him.

“Will I ever see you again?” Harry asked her with hope in his voice. Y/N let out a sigh as she shook her head no. “My father will never allow it.” Y/N told him with a frown.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said letting go of his hand and quickly walked away leaving Harry heartbroken.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Days have passed and Harry can’t get Y/N out of his head. Even though they have only had two encounters he knows that Y/N is the one. As they danced together, he knew he was falling in love with her. He doesn’t know why Y/N’s father won’t allow her to see him. His parents allow him to interact with anyone. Wether they are royalty or not.

“Dear? Are you alright?” The Queen asked her son. Harry broke out of his thoughts. He was sitting at the dinning table with his parents for breakfast. “You haven’t touched any of your food.” The Queen told him with worry in her voice. “I’m not hungry.” Harry said with a sigh.

“Is everything alright?” The King asked his son with worry now in his voice as well. “I met this girl, and I just know that she’s the one.” Harry told his parents. “That’s wonderful, sweetie!” The Queen said with an excited smile. “But it’s not going to happen. Her father won’t allow her to see me.” Harry said with another sad sigh.

“Harry, do you really think that this girl is the one?” The King asked him. “Yes, father.” Harry answered with a nod. “Are you truly in love with her?” The King asked him. “Of course, father.” Harry answered him. “Then you need to fight for her.” The King told him. “If you truly know that she is the one, you can’t give up on her.” The King explained to him.

Harry knew everything his father told him, was right. He can’t give up on having a future with Y/N.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N’s parents were downstairs in the living room while Y/N was upstairs in her room. Her father was reading the newspaper while her mother was knitting a sweater.

There was a knock on the door. Y/N’s father closed the newspaper and sat it down onto the table. He got out of his seat and walked over to the door and opened it to see two kingdom guards.

“Hello sir, we are in order of the Prince.” One of the guards said. “In order? For what?” Y/N’s father said with confusion in his voice. The two guards stepped to the side to travel Harry. “Sir, I am asking for your blessing to ask your daughter to be my wife.” Harry told him in a kind tone.

Before Y/N’s dad could say anything her mother quickly stepped in. “Gentlemen, please come in. I need to speak to my husband in the kitchen.” Y/N’s mother said to them with kindness. She took her husband’s hand and took him into the kitchen with her.

“They have the wrong house.” He said in a stern tone in his voice. “No, they don’t.” She told him. Y/N’s father quickly became confused. “What’s going on?” Y/N asked walking down the stairs. “Prince Harry is here to ask for your hand in marriage.” Her mother told her taking her by surprise.

Harry is actually here, in her house. She took a glance into the living and saw him standing there with two guards.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Her father asked with frustration starting to lose his patience. “I went to the ball.” Y/N told him looking back at her father. “You disobeyed my orders?” Her father said with disappointment in his voice.

“Father, I spent the whole night with Harry, and it was perfect.” Y/N told him. “I love him.” Y/N confessed. “You do?” Her mother asked in surprise. Y/N gave her mother a nod.

Her father knew that she was telling the truth by the look she has in her eyes.

“Come.” Her father said walking into the living room. Y/N and her mother followed him.

“Prince Harry, I believe you have a question to ask my daughter.” Her father said with a smile.

Harry smiled walking up to Y/N. He took a small box out from the pocket in his pants. He bent down on one knee and opened the box to reveal a beautiful ring. “Y/N, will you marry me?” Harry asked her. Y/N’s lips turned up into a huge smile. “Yes!” She answered with nothing but excitement in her voice.

Harry took the ring out of the box and put the ring onto Y/N’s hand.

Right when Harry stood up Y/N jumped into his arms and connected her lips with his lips for a perfect first kiss.

[lokistemptress]

The Norse Goddess: Sigyn

Number: 459673

Legal Name: Victoria Desiree Edmund

File Name: Sigyn

DOB: unknown

Abilities: immortality, botanokinesis, atmokinesis, healing

Weaknesses: Loki

“Specimen 459673, introduced to SHIELD on January 5th, twenty twelve by Anthony Stark.”

“Specimen 459673; also known as Victoria D. Edmund, grew up in New York City. An adopted only child harnessing earthly powers. Strange connection to the God of Mischeif: Loki Laufeyson.”

“Update: we have the reasoning to believe Victoria Edmund is the Norse Goddess Sigyn, the soulmate of the Norse God: Loki.”

Property of SHIELD

Vines, the country, white dresses, loyalty, sunshine, laughter, rainbows, friendly, horses, the wind, linen sheets, guitars, gold.

Miss Edmund is most compatible with Loki Laufeyson.

how to go to confession: sabrina carpenter

wildflowers and wild horses: lainey wilson

what was i made for?: billie eilish

love of my life: harry styles

but daddy i love him: taylor swift

👒🌾🪐🎨🧺

[mercymermaid]

mouthwashing hcs but it's all just daisuke because he's my favorite

- has an account for basically every social media you can think of, and posts regularly on the tulpar's questionable wifi

- ^ regarding this, quotes completely random brainrot phrases or old vines or just god knows what, specifically to swansea just to piss him off (he eventually gets anya to join in, she's not some innocent unicorn this girl knows)

- has beads on his boot laces

- wears all types of bracelets; he snuck a good chunk of them onto the ship, and matches them to his hawaiian shirt of the day (specifically made sure that his nails coordinated with all the shirts he packed), along with endless funky earrings

- anya lets him experiment with designs on her nails and practice braiding her hair, he lets her try short styles on his hair and practice makeup, it's become their mutual 'talk it out' time; if anya ever tells him about juul pod, it's during a hang out session

- gets super competitive against anya at game nights, will eat game pieces (win no matter what mentality) and get yelled at by anya

- him and anya are ao3 twins; what they write and discuss is taken to their graves

- sings in the shower. really loudly. like 'swansea threatens to replace the water with emergency foam' loud. he eats it up though this man is in the middle of his world tour nobody's stopping him

- genuinely really looks up to swansea, sees his personality as grumpy-grandpa-with-mystic-backstory-esque, and is enamored with his engineering skills

- tries really, REALLY hard to succeed, and takes pride in his 'useless ray of sunshine' persona because at least he matters somewhat despite his failures

- is the type to fall asleep in a completely normal position and wake up with his pillow on the ceiling, time wound back three years, and completely out of it. as he shares a room with swansea, this is very unappreciated.

- pretends to like the pony express cake because swansea does, secretly despises it (big sweet tooth and the cake is an offense)

- ^ regarding this, steals sweeteners once he figures out the code on the daily, and shares them with anya during their hangouts

- terrible sleep schedule that only worsened once they made it into space

- can't sleep without a nightlight; swansea was really annoyed about it at first, but on the first night when daisuke kept tossing and turning on the verge of tears because everything was unfamiliar and dark and loud and scary, gave in, let the kid plug in his teeny little cat lamp, and put on an eye mask

- warrior cats kid, without a doubt, and has professionally dabbled in wings of fire and harry potter

- chronic doodler, can and will spend hours daydreaming and drawing god knows what, and he's good at it too

- subscribed to about twenty thousand webcomics across too many platforms and websites, keeps up with them all religiously, gets anya into a few

- stuffed animal hoarder, could only bring one on board and it's a little golden retriever plush from his favorite high school teacher, to inspire him and motivate him to fight the haters

- the most eclectic music taste known to humanity but they're all certified bangers

- cracks his joints like a 9-5 job, can only be beat by swansea and curly

- had a grand vision for how to decorate his room on the tulpar, dreams were crushed when it was stated that he couldn't

- back on earth; would change his phone case to match his outfit, jewelry galore, plan fits before each week, had a whole hour-long skin routine that meant he had to wake up at 4am for school, the whole shabang

- minecraft builder, exclusively in creative

- really strong sense in color theory and design, should've gone into graphic design instead of spaceship engineering internship

[doctordeathawaits]

I didn't see this in the archive, apologies if you've done this before - but could you do some tips for transage 30s and/or transmillennial? Thanks :)

Transage ( 30s ) + TransMillennial

Embrace the Aesthetic ! Curate your personal style to reflect the age or generational vibe you identify with ! Millennials often lean into nostalgic aesthetics : think skinny jeans , Tumblr-era fashion , or retro-inspired outfits !

Celebrate Millennial Nostalgia ! Revisit trends and cultural moments that defined the millennial era ( e.g., early social media , Harry Potter , MySpace , Vine compilations ) - engage with old memes , music , or media that bring you joy and affirm your connection to millennial culture ! Think 2010s bands and 2014 Pinterest moodboards !

Follow content creators , TV shows , or movies that reflect the vibe of the age group or generation you identify with ! - think shows like Friends , The Office , or Avatar: The Last Airbender , Steven Universe .

Adopt a Nihilistic Humor ! Millennials often lean into humor as a coping mechanism — embrace memes, ironic jokes, or self-deprecating humor as part of your cultural identity ! Think "dead inside" jokes , always mentioning that you're tired , jokes about coffee addiction , etc !

[turnyourankle]

(longest to shortest)

❃ Cut Your Teeth On My Heart // 94k, E, bodyguard AU Louis has worked as a security officer for years, but he's handed his first opportunity to be team lead. The assignment is nothing like what he expected. Harry has spent years trying to distance himself from the pressure of the Twist name and legacy. But it's going to be hard to avoid when his mum hires him a bodyguard.

❃ Knives Don't Have Your Back // 51k, crime/mystery The lone survivor of an on campus massacre that claimed the lives of his four housemates, Harry is urged to take a sabbatical or transfer. Instead, he chooses to stay in school, move into the dorms, and overcome his fears. He finds comfort in a budding friendship with Louis, an upperclassman who lives on his floor, not realizing that their relationship will bring him closer to his traumatizing past rather than farther from it.

❃ Lemon Eyes // 50k, E, ABO, friends with benefits It's not proper for omegas to mess around with alphas before finding their bondmate. But Harry doesn't give a damn what's proper and fully intends on getting as much experience as he can before even trying to find one. As far as he's concerned, the right alpha won't care, and he'll have some fun on the way.

❃ Show Me How The Fire Works // 49k, E, Dirty Dancing AU The Styles-Twist holiday in the Catskills is supposed to be just that: a family holiday. A last hurrah before Harry relocates to the states for uni. Instead, it quickly devolves into a honeymoon for his parents, leaving Harry and Gemma to fend for themselves. Harry quickly befriends the staff at the resort, and is enticed by Louis, one of the dance instructors. Harry gets in over his head in an attempt to impress him, but with Gemma egging him on and a ticking clock, how could he not at least try?

❃ Hymns For Restless Stars // 37k, E, famous/not-famous, advent fic Every Holiday season Louis has his pupils write down their Christmas wishes for class. He's read almost every wish under the sun, but one girl's wish takes him by surprise. It's for her uncle not to be alone anymore. It's not a wild wish by any means, but Louis had no idea that former teen idol Harry Styles was lonely in the first place.

❃ Strawberry Moon // 20k, E, bodyswap Harry really should have known better than to agree to one of Niall’s schemes. Especially one that involved Irish magic. Then again, how was he supposed to know he and Louis would end up swapping bodies?

❃ Foothold // 18k, M, sci-fi/space Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.

❃ Head Head Heart // 11k, E, canon, BDSM After Dunkirk has wrapped filming, Harry struggles with his inability to reach subspace. He tries taking the matter in his own hands before Louis intervenes with a plan of his own.

❃ Tall Tales For Summer // 11k, E, modern royalty AU Harry knows something is up when his mum insists on throwing him a birthday party in the summer. He's even more suspicious of her intentions when he notices the guest list is all male.

❃ A Body Wishes To Be Held & Held // E, 9k, ABO, PWP Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.

❃ Like Vines (We Intertwine) // 8k, T, aliens/Roswell AU The "Roswell" AU where Harry is an alien, Louis is not, and they've both been pining after each other for far too long.

❃ Picture You Staring // 8k, T, vacation, meet-cute If there's one thing Louis won't stand for it's being replaced as his nieces' favourite uncle. Especially by some bloke they met barely hours into their holiday in Portugal who's not even related to them.

❃ Beat The Darkness // 7k, T, ABO, WWI Harry is a volunteer nurse stationed in Cairo; Louis is one of the patients in his ward.

❃Breakfast of Champions // 6k, E, humor/smut An injury relegates Harry to the weight room; Louis wears a lot of interesting shirts. AKA Harry and Louis are gym buddies. ❃ Nothing Better // 4k, E, smut, mpreg Harry and Louis aren't expecting children just yet, but the thought of if turns them on.

❃ Bloom! // 4k, T, florist Harry is a florist, and Louis is the very taken repeat customer he can't get out of his head.

❃ Breathe Into Your Well // 4k, E, ABO A rut bar. A place where omegas who are so inclined can link up with Alphas in rut. It's not a place Louis ever pictured himself visiting but in the hopes of having a memorable rut, it's where he finds himself tonight.

❃ Stillness Is The Move // 3k, E, BDSM, PWP Harry fails to follow instructions and requires punishment.

❃ So That's A Thing // 3k, E, PWP Louis notices Harry’s fascination with his nipples by accident.

❃ The Bachelors and The Bachelorette // 2k, The Bachelor AU, fake relationship "With little left to do Harry and Louis both signed up to be contestant on the Bachelorette. They meet and sparks fly immediately. They both do everything they can to get voted off but the more outrageous their behavior the more they keep getting the rose. Cue the shower scene."

[amniotic]

Strawhat Pirates mixtape 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝₊⊹𓆉︎

i'm very normal about them, so i made a mixtape for the strawhats. this is more like a OPLA mixtape cause i'm still in alabasta in the animé akjjassja ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

˗ˏˋ listen here ˎˊ˗

Sanji

Good old fashioned lover boy - queen Valentine - Laufey Algo contigo - Rita Payés Can't help falling in love - Elvis Presley Hey Lover - The Daughters of Eve O' Sarracino - Renato Carosone Me and my husband - mitski The other woman - lana del rey Mio Amore- the flamingos Sway - Dean martini Washing machine heart - mitski

luffy

Nuestra canción - monsieur periné Hijo del sol luminoso - Joe Vasconcellos Pregon para iluminarse - Los Jaivas You've got a friend in me - Cavetown Hypeboy - Newjeans Music for a sushi restaurant - Harry Styles Hopes and Dreams - Toby Fox Hunger - Aurora The mother we share - CHVRCHES 愛彌々 - Mongol800×Wanima

Zoro

No Church in The Wild - JAY-Z Leave my body - florence + the machine Die for you - the weeknd STRONG - Miyavi Guy.exe - superfruit I love you, i love you, i love you, i hate you - Miyavi Yo no soy celoso - Bad Bunny Espada - Javiera Mena No Tengo dinero - Juan Gabriel King of Lionheart - Of Monster and Men Hasta la raíz - Natalia Lafourcade

Usopp

Lies and truth - L'arc~en~Ciel I'm not calling you a liar - florence + the machine Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny Friday I'm in Love - The Cure No hace falta - Monsieur Periné Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos Teenagers - My chemical romance Rabbit Heart - Florence + the machine Starman - Seu Jorge

Nami

Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande Are you Satisfied - Marina Vine Solita - Natalia Lafourcade Diamonds are a girl's best friend - Marilyn Monroe Dog Day are Over - Florence + the machine The River - Aurora Free - Florence + the machine Entre el mandarinal - Daniel toro Little Talks - Of monster and Men Ïf We All Die Tomorrow - Tom Rosenthal

[collecting-stories]

Style - Sirius Black

Summary: you and Sirius enjoy a somewhat on-again, off-again relationship with each other. Marauders era, post Hogwarts.

A/N: The last Sirius fic I wrote was sort of angsty so I'm trying to remedy that with this.

TS Anthology Series | Harry Potter Masterlist

...could end in burning flames or paradise...

The letter came by owl on the 3rd Tuesday of the month, a crisp envelope, heavy, off-white, your name embossed in golden cursive so delicate it was breathtaking. You were careful not to tear the envelope when you opened it, pulling the card out, the same golden lettering inviting you to the wedding of Lily Evans and James Potter at their home in Godric's Hallow. It would be a summer soiree, a bit of information you knew from a visit there last week and not from the letter itself. Lily had asked you to play maid of honor, since Petunia had outright refused to be part of the wedding in any way at all.

"According to her, I've thrown away my entire identity for this hogwash and she won't play party to it any longer. I think it's just that Vernon she's married, he's a tosser. I hate to speak ill but...least I invited her to my wedding." Lily tapered off at the end as she took the kettle off the stove and poured two cups of tea. 

"Well I'll happily take her place," you said, accepting the cup of tea from her. 

Lily's kitchen was bright and colorful, with windows that felt as if the garden didn't end outside but instead stretched its vines into the house and breathed life into it. She'd never been much for herbology in school, or even basic gardening when she was home but since moving to the cottage in Godric's Hallow she'd found a new love for working outside with her hands. Like she was breathing life into everything around her. You always loved being there, the house was warm and welcoming and a far cry from the quiet of your flat in Cambridge, but your visits were scarce. Especially as of late, it had taken a summons by owl for you to agree to show up for afternoon tea. 

"You'll have to around then, for the rehearsal and the wedding you know? James wants to have a party sometime next week too, sort of an informal announcement that we're marrying. He wanted to just send word, I told him I would send out proper invitations," Lily said, 

"I know," you replied, taking a sip of your tea, "I'll be there. You say it like I'm so hard to come by when I'm a fireplace away. James sounds like he has the right idea, anyway. I'd throw a party and then just get married then. Or skip the party." You said, "and the wedding for that matter."

"Oh, I'm well aware that you'd skip the wedding," she laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You tried your best at sounding scandalized but it was empty, you knew what she was referring to but neither of you had ever actually gotten close to talking about it. It was something that everyone heard of secondhand, whoever had been the first to hear it from you or Sirius, no one could remember, but Lily had never directly discussed it with you and you had never told her exactly what happened. 

She shrugged, grinning rather mischievously as she did. She looked more like James than herself in that moment, "you know James is making Sirius his best man?"

"I know he is. I saw Remus last week and he mentioned the wedding." You replied. "Why?"

"You'll have to see him."

"Are we going to hash all this out right here over tea? I've got nothing against him, we get on perfectly fine," you said, unable to keep the defensive tone out of your voice. 

You had avoided any real discussion about the nature of your relationship with Sirius with any of your friends. They were all his friends too, after all, and it wasn't really any of their business to pry into what happened. Which wasn't really anything particularly astounding. 

"You rarely see each other lately," Lily pointed out. 

"Are you keeping tabs?" You joked, finishing off the tea and standing to take your cup to the sink. The kitchen door clattered open, James stamping his feet on the door mat before stepping over the threshold. They're behind him, Sirius, stepping into the small kitchen and closing the door behind him. In the three seconds it took him to realize that you were there by the sink, Lily had looked over at you with the sort of apologetic look meant to infer that she had no idea he would be coming through the door at all, let alone while you were here. 

"Speak of the devil," you joked, breaking the seconds of awkward silence and the four of you attempted to make out what protocol you were all meant to follow. "Sirius, Lily tells me you'll be walking me down the aisle."

"Sounds like a dream come true," he teased, recovering only a moment after you and flashing you the sort of smile that had made you weak in the knees everyday from 1st to 7th year. 

"Don't get any ideas, Petunia doesn't want to come to the wedding," you replied. 

"Sounds like you're saving me a very uncomfortable afternoon then."

"Did you both want to stay for dinner? I was just going to gather some veg for a salad and I've got some chicken and pasta to make," Lily offered, looking between the two of you. She'd stood up too and was holding her tea cup and saucer in a death grip. Her voice, on the other hand, remained calm, like nothing at all was bothering her. 

"Of course," you agreed, if only to prove that there really was nothing at all wrong and you didn't mind being around Sirius at all. In fact, you wanted to tell her, you hardly thought of him at all. There wasn't any space to tell her that though, and neither of you would have actually believed it at all. "I can grab the veg for you."

"Perfect," Lily nodded. 

The basket she used to collect vegetables and fruit from the garden sat atop the fridge and you grabbed it down, having to go up on your tiptoes to reach. From the corner of your eye, Sirius made a move toward you, as if to help, but then clearly thought better of it, shuffling away from the door instead and letting you manage the task yourself. 

At least the task of taking the basket out into the garden. It took only three short minutes for Sirius to slip out the kitchen door, closing it quietly behind him and walking to the row of raised beds where Lily had been growing lettuces and spinach. You were tearing arugula and placing it in a pile in the corner of the basket when he found you, standing on the other side of the bed to leave space between the two of you. 

"They're all loved up in there," he mentioned, looking back over his shoulder for a moment before he looked back to you, "what've you said to Lily?"

"What've you said to James?" You asked, not looking up as you moved onto some butter lettuce. 

"Nothing, he's talking about the wedding being a good time for...you know, for us seeing each other again." Sirius almost laughed when he said it, "figured you hadn't mentioned to Lily that we've been seeing each other."

"I just figured it'd be easier that way...in case we aren't when the wedding comes around." You pointed out. 

Sirius pouted at you, lower lip jutting out. What Lily knew was true, you and Sirius had broken up (not for the first time) and you weren't really seeing anyone. Not because you were hiding out or anything so petty, just because you were busy and, times being what they were, you didn't have time to sit around with your friends and eat ice cream and complain. Or whatever it was that Lily had told you would be cathartic. The part of it that she didn't know, that you hadn't told her when you'd mentioned seeing Remus the week prior, was that you'd seen Sirius too. They shared the flat in London after all and it was impossible to avoid seeing Sirius when you saw Remus. Your ex had been there and everything had been fine and then Remus had gone to work (probably knowing exactly what would come of him going to work and leaving the two of you alone) and you were suddenly no longer broken up. 

"Don't be such a cynic, it's not becoming," Sirius teased, grinning when you smiled despite yourself. 

"Your hair is getting long," you commented, changing the subject abruptly. 

"My hair is always long." 

"Longer than usual," you replied, reaching out to play with the end of a strand of wavy black hair. Sirius smile softened and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he opened them again, watching you pull your hand away and stand up. "Practically on your shoulders."

"You're very concerned about the length of my hair suddenly?" He asked.

"I was thinking about it this morning when we were brushing our teeth but my mouth was full of toothpaste so I couldn't say, and then you went to see James and so I've just thought it again when I looked at you. That your hair is getting long." You explained. 

"I appreciate the mention, thank you."

You shook your head at him and went back to choosing vegetables for the salad, moving to another raised bed. Tomatoes this time, you noted. You went for the smallest of them, cherry sized and yellow in color. Sirius followed after you, taking a few off a vine to eat for himself. 

"We should get a nice little place like this," he mentioned, looking around the garden. He wasn't sure he could picture the two of you in a garden together but something like it might be nice. Sirius wasn't really a cottage type, not like James and Lily, setting up a cozy little corner of the world where they dreamed of raising a family and cultivating a garden and having neighbors. He wasn't sure he wanted all those things, he felt he was supposed to want them, to dream of waking up on Christmas and coming down to a tree all decorated and lots of little versions of the two of you running about. 

"You wouldn't want that," you said, as matter of fact as he knew it to be true. "You would feel too suffocated somewhere like this, who wants to spend forever feeling like they're losing themselves."

"Is that how you thought you would feel?" Sirius asked, reaching for the basket and laying his hand over yours when you gripped the handle. 

"No," you smiled at him, lifting the gravity of his words, "it's how I knew you might feel...especially if you were hellbent on convincing yourself that this was what you wanted. Sirius Black tending a garden and going to markets on Sundays? I've known you too long, my love, you can't fool me quite as well as you fool yourself."

Sirius grinned, giving little away as to whether he was bothered by your words or not. He had grown up with you though, been friends long before you were lovers, and he knew that you could be blunt with your words. "Well, we wouldn't have to have this place," Sirius finally said, "we could have a nice little flat in London."

"I do have a nice little flat in London and you stay over quite a lot," you reasoned. You were tempted to add that enough of his belongings had made their way into your little flat that there was no way to ever truly expel him from your life. You hadn't even tried the last time, just left everything where it was like a relic of a passed life. 

"True," he agreed, going back to picking vegetables. 

"Do you want to tell James and Lily that we're seeing each other again?" You asked, taking up the basket as he tossed a couple cucumbers in. 

"Do you want to be seeing each other?" He replied. It was a foolish insecurity to have, especially for someone who had never experienced much insecurity in previous relationships (though he didn't really have many substantial relationships he could recall off the top of his head), but sometimes he thought that perhaps you were just bidding your time with him. 

You looked almost confused, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at him, "course. I'd see you all the time if I could." 

"Well," Sirius grinned, almost visibly inflating at your words, "who can blame you for that?"

"Alright, let's get inside before your head gets too big to fit through the kitchen door," you teased, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and tugging gently so that he would follow you. 

Walking back into the kitchen was like breaking a spell, James was taking the basket from your hands and asking if the two of you wanted some wine from a bottle that "a neighbor gave us last week, not sure exactly where they got it, or if they made it themselves, Lily was convinced that they poisoned it but I said that was silly,". 

"Poisoned?" Sirius asked, taking the green glass bottle and uncorking it. He leaned over the bottle and sniffed as if he'd detect whether it was foul or not. "Doesn't smell poisoned."

"Oh can you smell the poison?" You laughed, grabbing a knife from the block on the counter and laying out the vegetables. 

"I have an excellent sniffer, I'll have you know," he argued, "though I will say it's a bit easier to sus out a poison in my furrier form."

"Do not transform yourself into a dog in my kitchen Sirius," Lily snapped, "you never want to put your clothes back on."

"That's got nothing to do with the dog," you commented and James laughed. 

"Didn't realize I'd been invited to dinner just to endure all this abuse." Sirius grumbled though there was a smile threatening to break across his face, letting you know that he wasn't nearly as upset as he was playing at. 

     You sat beside Sirius for dinner, Lily sending you suggestive looks whenever she thought he was too engrossed in conversation with James to notice (though you knew Sirius better than most and were sure that he had most definitely noticed). Dinner at Lily and James' was like always, fun and lighthearted, conversation steering away from anything too troubling (no talk of the coming darkness) until you were all a little more than tipsy and you'd taken to openly leaning against Sirius when the party moved to the living room. 

He was first to take his leave, though he announced that you were going with him, "think we'd best get home, this one's got work in the morning," were his exact words and the way he said 'home' as if it belonged to both of you made your wine drunk heart skip a beat. You were warm from the alcohol and the fire and hugs goodbye but you still managed to wrap yourself in Sirius' arms as you walked down the sidewalk in Godric's. 

"You know, I think it would be quite nice to have a little flat somewhere, we could decorate it together and have all our friends round for dinner parties and we could go all over the world on holidays." You suggested, the grey of his eyes especially haunting as he measured your words. 

"Sounds lovely," he agreed, though whether that was because it did sound lovely or because he was placating you, even he wasn't positive. 

You both went home and the spell of Godric's Hollow was lifted and when the envelope arrived by owl a week later, Sirius was gone again. Back to his shared flat with Remus and you were back to pretending all the pieces of him that he'd left behind didn't hurt. Remus had assured you, when you'd blubbered rather unattractively over the phone with him two days after things turned sour, that it was just the way things worked between the two of you ("eventually one of you, or both of you, god willing, will mature enough to commit to the relationship you both so desperately crave"). The advice was not what you wanted to hear, to no one's surprise, and you resigned yourself instead to the knowledge that you would not have to see Sirius until the wedding, or rehearsal dinner or whatever Lily had planned. You could stay in the flat in Cambridge that was once again, only yours, and Sirius could go about his own life doing whatever it was that he did when you were taking time away from each other. 

By your own determination and Lily's unwavering devotion to you as a friend, there were no run-ins until the rehearsal dinner, which Sirius was late to. He arrived looking somewhat frazzled, on a flying motorcycle of all things, and apologizing profusely to Lily and James for his tardiness. You were standing with Remus, who'd been tasked with walking beside you until Sirius arrived, watching him greet the jovial couple.

"My mum told me that if I would only stop fooling around with Sirius I might find some nice bloke and settle down," you whispered to Remus when he nudged you gently with his elbow. 

"That sounds very uncharacteristic for you," he replied, "do you plan on taking her advice?"

"Unfortunately, for myself and for her, I really don't," you finally tore your gaze away from your sometimes companion (just as he looked your way) to meet Remus' amused gaze, "I always think I will but then he shows up somewhere and I know I won't." 

"Remus, I see you've taken your rightful place as best man," Sirius teased, wedging himself into the nonexistent space between the two of you. If it wasn't so obvious that you and Remus harbored no feelings for each other, someone might have supposed that Sirius was jealous of his friend receiving your attention. 

"I already told James I didn't want it when he asked me first," Remus joked, moving over a step to accommodate his friend. 

"Did you really?" Sirius called, looking around the small crowd for James and then settling on him, "you asked Remus first?"

"Second best again Padfoot," you teased. 

He looked at you with mild surprise before gasping dramatically and clutching at his chest, "my best friends...all this time and it seems all of my best friends prefer Remus over me?"

"Sorry mate," Remus laughed, clapping a hand on Sirius shoulder. 

He waved him away, "it's alright there Moony, I would probably choose you too."

"I was only teasing anyway Sirius," he promised. 

Lily managed to reign the boys in again, one more walk down the aisle with the correct partners, as she so explained, already walking to her place at the end of the pews. She had on a short white dress with a lace overlay that made her look like something out of a magazine. The absolute picture of beauty with her long ginger hair and bright green eyes. You were almost envious as you watched the way James watched his soon to be bride smiling at him from the other side of the small church. But then you moved your gaze down the row of gathered groomsmen, not having to go very far to find Sirius stood beside James, watching you the same way his best friend watched Lily. 

You held his gaze the whole way down the aisle and you thought that your resolution not to let him back into your life would be all for naught. You'd be surprised if he didn't come home with you tonight. 

"I heard he's been out recently," Dorcas whispered, disrupting your dreamlike fantasy and you turned your head, drowning out Lily and James rehearsal vows so that you could hear your friend's gossip better. 

"Who with?"

"I didn't get specifics, Marlene knows though. She's the one that told me." She replied.

"Yeah well, she's the one he was out with last time." You replied. 

"You act like it doesn't bother you." 

You shrugged at the suggestion, "I've been out to."

When you turned back, in time to follow the fake married couple down the aisle, Sirius was extending his arm and staring at you with mild interest. The sort that said he wanted to know what it was you were talking about because of course he had noticed you talking to Dorcas. You only offered a smile though, letting him lead the both of you down to the back of the church where Lily was slipping her feet out of her heels. 

"These blasted shoes, I tried to charm them to be comfortable and it's just been rubbish." She complained, bending to pick them up.

"Ask Mary, she's good at all those nonsensical charms," you offered, ignoring the look Sirius was still giving you. He was standing so close he was hovering and when you continued to ignore him in favor of saying goodbye to Peter and Dorcas, he pinched at your sides. "Would you stop it?"

"Would you pay attention to me?" 

"I pay plenty of attention to you, if I paid you anymore I would go broke," you huffed, turning to look at him. The pinching stopped and he placed his hands on your waist instead, keeping you close enough that he could whisper and no one would overhear the conversation. 

"What did Dorcas say?"

"About what?"

"About...you know what." He replied.

"Ah," you smiled, "about you sleeping around?"

"I'm not sleeping around! Is that what she said? A date or two but not sleeping around, god." He huffed, seeming personally offended by Dorcas' comment.

"Oh stop, I told her it wasn't a bother to me." You replied, "besides, I imagine I know where you'll be sleeping tonight." 

Sirius grinned, "is that an invitation?" 

You nodded, looking over his shoulder to the front of the church, already decorated for the wedding tomorrow morning. "Maybe we should get married?"

"Would you like that?" He asked, pinching at your side once more.

"Stop it!" You laughed and swatted away his hands, "and to answer your question, I wouldn't mind it one bit. Though I'm opposed to taking your last name only, perhaps a hyphen?" 

"Oh god, how about I take yours instead?" He suggested, "forget Black altogether."

You nodded, "we could have our own little flat?"

"Go on lots of holidays." He replied. 

"Oh but I'd feel awful leaving Remus alone in your old place," you pointed out, envisioning a very sad Remus home alone. 

"I really wouldn't mind," the actual one cut in, having overheard his name in the conversation. 

"Nonsense Moony, they could move into ours."

"I don't actually like your flat though Sirius," you replied.

"How could you not like it?"

"Are you three coming?" James called, looking over at your small party. "We're heading out for drinks."

Sirius took your hand, "we shall discuss the logistics later," he promised, pulling you toward the exit of the church where Remus had already joined James and Lily. 

"I look forward to it."