#hopefully seventh times the charm?

[dogtiber]

trying to post the video of tiber at the beach but tumblr keeps EATING it :(

[ellecdc]

Hi!! Ok this is my first time doing an actual request so…I hope I do this right 😭.

Poly!marauders x transfer student reader: Reader comes from the US, where quodpot is the more popular wizarding sport (like quidditch is rugby and quodpot is football). Reader has always LOVED quidditch and is excited Hogwarts actually has a team. Maybe reader trying out for the team? Seeker would be cool bc the reader would be able to practice that by themself. Reader going to the pitch early every morning to practice leading up to tryouts, Sirius and James watching from the stands bc that’s normally THEIR time to practice. Remus sitting with a hot tea and bundled up…UGH I LOVE!

this was such a cute idea! this is actually the second fic I've ever written that involved 0 dialogue and I only realized that about either fic once I finished this one, so hopefully it's good! thanks for your request, love, I hope I did it justice!

poly!marauders x transfer student!reader who is obsessed with quidditch [900 words]

CW: .... I don't think any?? read is Gryffindor, written for a fem!reader (term that's used is witch) but could be read as gender neutral as they/them/their are used

If someone were to ask Remus why he could suddenly be spotted haunting the castle grounds before the sun rose most mornings now-a-days, he would quickly blame it on his sodding no good energetic and horribly devious boyfriends (who he loved very much). 

But the real answer was a far more selfish one.

You see, Remus (and Sirius and James) had developed a rather peculiar crush on a rather peculiar witch in their final year of Hogwarts. 

The rumour had been that a new student transferring from Ilvermory was going to be attending Hogwarts for their seventh year, and with Hogwarts (and the wizarding community in general) being as small as it was, it had created quite the buzz. 

The rumours were proven true when a witch far older than the many first years lined up for their turn at the sorting ceremony took their place below the hat only for it to shout GRYFFINDOR before their robes were decorated in red and gold.

You seemed utterly enchanted by it all; by the floating candles, by the stone walls, and by the feast itself. 

Watching you skip throughout the castle in the weeks following the Welcome Feast was nothing short of inspiring; it was as if watching a muggleborn first year see the castle and all of its secrets for the first time again. 

You seemed to be very skilled at finding the magic in, well, magic. 

Remus wondered then when magic stopped feeling so magical to the rest of the seventh year class; even children who were raised by magical parents were nothing short of ecstatic to begin honing their own skills at Hogwarts.

When did that stop feeling so exciting? When did throwing up silencing charms and summoning objects towards yourself become second nature instead of an exciting and exceptional learned skill? When did transfiguring buttons into butterflies become an arduous lesson instead of a wondrous adventure?

And that's not to say that you hadn’t seen or experienced magic before; on the contrary, you were a very talented witch. But you seemed to be awestruck by every single thing that you set your eyes on.

The fact that you were living in a castle had been particularly exciting for you, from what Remus had overheard, as was the game of quidditch. 

The popular and more commonly played sport in the magical United States was that of quodpot, and what little Remus actually understood about quidditch, he understood even less of quodpot, which is to say that he understood absolutely none of it. But even Remus had to admit there was something mesmerising about watching the way your tongue stuck out a little bit through your teeth as you drew out different drills and formations in your dedicated quidditch journal.

Though the quidditch season hadn’t started yet, every time there was a pickup game or a one-on-one, or even a few players feeling the familiar itch of flying through the air at record speeds and dodging other players and flying balls, one could be certain that you would be standing in the bleachers - often even hanging over the edge of the railing (in a way that made Remus very nervous, thank you very much) - with a wide smile on your face as you took it all in. 

And if Remus was really lucky, he’d even get a chance to watch as you balanced on the balls of your feet as if your body was just itching to join in on the fun. 

And if Sirius and James both took the piss for Remus finally enjoying ‘quidditch’ enough to put his sodding book down every once in a while, well, that was neither here nor there. 

So, the second that madame Hooch announced that tryouts for house teams would be starting in a few short weeks; you were hardly ever spotted around the common room anymore. 

Any time there was a free moment, one could bet you’d be down at the pitch - or even elsewhere on the grounds - with a broom underneath you and your eyes peeled for the wiley little snitch. And anytime you were found at the pitch? Well, one could bet James and Sirius would be too.

….

… As was Remus. 

James was all too happy to finally have (enthusiastic and consensual) company in the mornings to comment on the fact that it had been nothing short of painstaking torture to extricate Sirius from his bed for quidditch practices before you had transferred to Hogwarts, or to comment on the fact that it had been nothing short of painstaking torture to extricate Remus from his bed on any given day before you had transferred to Hogwarts.

Because it appeared that they were all in agreement that, even if it had to be at six in the bloody morning, watching you experience the unbridled joy that Hogwarts and quidditch and magic could give you was the best place to be.

Sirius leaned casually against the railing flashing you the odd wink or holler of encouragement when you happened to look over at your admirers in the stands whilst James shouted pointers and cheered you on, basically hanging over the railing in much the same way you would when the roles were reversed.

And Remus?

Well, Remus usually had about three layers on, a hot cup of tea, and a book that laid untouched as he got to enjoy the view.

[puffleyia]

Dear Diary || Cedric Diggory

Cedric Diggory x fem!reader || 5.2k words, fluff-ish, banter and awkward confessions !

Reader and Ced are both seventh years and Ced is head boy!

Warnings: slow and sappy smut, unprotected p-in-v, clothed sex , first times !!!

Summary: Cedric finds your diary, what's the worst that could happen?

---------

Cedric was idly perusing the shelves of the library on one fine afternoon, if the wads of homework given and expected to be completed by the end of the Easter holidays were not taken into account. He sought for some books that he could use as reference for his essay in History of Magic, a particularly tricky one, on famous and historical duels.

Though, his initial intentions were long forgotten as he noticed something. His attention was drawn to a small, forgotten notebook left on one of the study tables. He looked around to see if any sign of the owner was around. Once the coast was clear, he took it as a go-signal. Carefully, he picked it up with curiosity as he examined the notebook.

The cover was brown, its material being that of leather. It had a few tears, but it looked okay enough to be passed as a choice of style. It is decorated with intricate golden patterns on it, engraved with small jewels for design. The bottom was labelled with your name handwritten on, and the pages seemed to be slightly tarnished. He assumed you had kept it for a couple years or so. 

But what was most intriguing was that it had been padlocked shut. He figured out that it was no ordinary notebook, probably a diary of sorts, piquing his interest.

As much as he knows not to stick his nose in things he is not supposed to, he couldn’t help but feel interested in what was not supposed to be of his concern. He was not going to tell anyone what’s inside, nor was he going to judge— it is not like you would know either if he did look through it. 

But, he supposed a little peak would not hurt, right? He is going to give it back the next time he sees you, anyway. 

Though, it was locked… It is nothing a simple alohomora charm could not fix. He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the lock. He gave it a flick, chanting the spell out quietly. The padlock fell on the floor with a dull thud. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket, to seal it up afterwards to conceal any trace of him ever snooping around.

He flipped through the pages, becoming increasingly fascinated with what he read, some even dating back to seven years. Family issues, random stuff about life at Hogwarts, such as rants about homework, housemates and whatnot. The first thirty pages was about you mainly figuring out things back then as a first year, and a bunch of things you were astonished to discover. 

It was really what your typical teenage girl would write; little things such as that cat you tried to pet in the first year that turned out to be Professor McGonagall, hallway crushes, that time you snuck in the restricted area of the library, so on— and the mundaneness of everyday life. It was pretty much a bunch of stuff about what goes on during your days. 

When he got to the fourth year, he started seeing his name being brought up occasionally— he of course, stopped on those pages to read them— interested in what your perspective on him was. He started with the first page mentioning him:

DEAR DIARY,

I met this guy named Cedric Diggory. He’s popular, tall and good-looking too.. 

He helped me out with my herbology homework. I was really struggling, good thing he stepped in. Though, maybe I was too busy staring at him to really pay attention to what he was teaching me. (Well, who can blame me???)

I know so many girls who would kill to have that happen to them. Wonder what got me so lucky today, maybe those Lumos Lucksweets I ate last night that I got from Honeydukes during Halloween.

I always thought he was cute, though I always felt too intimidated to approach him. Hopefully we can become friends. 

He felt a bit surprised, a faint blush tainting his cheeks as he smiled softly. He would be oblivious if he didn’t know he was sought after by both women and men, albeit it still doesn’t make him any less flustered.  You were one of his friends, yes, but he had never stopped to think that you thought of him in that way. You didn’t make it obvious either.

He mostly skimmed through its pages, but stopped to read whenever he saw his name brought up– about how you talked about each of your interactions; “Cedric helped me with…” “Cedric and I went out to…” “I think I like him..” Cedric this, Cedric that. 

You like him. Or liked him. It only clicked with him now, though he would have to keep reading if he wanted to know if you still felt the same. (Because he definitely did.) Be that as it may, he still definitely had no idea on how to confess. Plus, it was too late to turn back any time now. He continued to leaf through its contents.

But it was not until he got to last year’s pages that some things really stuck out. At first it was about wanting to kiss him on the cheek as you sat beside him in the library whilst you two studied for your transfiguration exam. Then the next time you talked about it being on the lips. 

You even went into detail how you thought his lips would feel, then it was about how you so badly wanted to make out with him after you watched him after his quidditch practice because in your words, not his–

He looked so hot.

The more he read through, the material written within progressively escalated. Soon, it was about how you felt guilty by using the thought of him as a means to get off. 

Now I feel guilty. Yes, I know– it is wrong of me to finger myself at the thought of my really really really hot friend who I also happen to have a crush on, no I’m not being sarcastic, yes, it was just once. Just this ONCE, I got carried away… Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Cedric.

He actually found it quite adorable how you were apologising in a diary. He was also extremely flustered at this point, a little bit horny and at the same time, confused. He nonetheless continued, reading several entries about how you admitted to having several fantasies of you being fucked by Cedric, what you think he would be like in bed, yada yada yada. 

You admit throughout several logs that what was supposed to be a one-time thing, turned into nightly endeavours filled with a big ounce of shame afterwards. 

Once he felt content, he got the padlock and clicked it back in place as if nothing ever happened, and took it with him as he went on his way. He figured it was best that he give it back the next time he ran into you. 

Aside from that, his day passed by quite like any ordinary one, though he hadn’t seen you at all. On his way down to the Great Hall, he caught a glimpse of you walking whilst talking to some of your friends– though you quickly disappeared into the crowd of students flocking towards the hall for dinner.

Afterwards, most students are headed towards the library or their respective common rooms, Cedric ought to do the same. 

Meanwhile you were searching every nook and cranny of everywhere you had been within the entire day, searching for that damned diary since the afternoon. You had traced back your steps to the beginning of the day, starting off with the common rooms, the great hall, then you had snuck into the several classrooms you were in earlier. In the potions dungeon, you were almost caught by Snape, you hid in time (you pride yourself on being an absolute pro at hide and seek) and just by the skin of your teeth.

You would stop at nothing until you actually find it, the thought of someone else getting your diary sends shivers down your spine. You just hope if someone did, they’d have enough of a sense of privacy and decency not to look through it. If this keeps up, You would have to be looking throughout the entire night and without being caught at that. 

You doubt any of the staff would actually care about finding it if you had simply asked. You had tried that once when you lost one of your textbooks, you managed to find it, no thanks to anyone but yourself.  And you would think if you would ask any of your professors, they’d probably say (the textbook) was miles more important than some journal with sentimental value.

Before you knew it, you were definitely up past curfew hours. Currently in the library, you were looking everywhere– on and under each of the chairs and tables, the shelves, you were seriously considering going to check the restricted section if you were not able to find it here. Perhaps the librarian thought it was a book, too. You froze in your place as you heard footsteps other than yours echoing as someone entered the library.

–

Cedric was doing his rounds and surprisingly, tonight was not that half-bad. No pesky students loitering around, so far that is. Currently surveying the corridors, classrooms– he is now heading towards the library, hearing faint shuffling noises coming from the sound of it. So it was not a quiet night after all, he thought. He placed his bets on who he thought it was this time, and the lot of students who regularly snuck out was not much to choose from anyway.

Though, he was completely wrong this time. It was you. He flashes you a grin, nearly forgetting his duties as Head Boy to supposedly escort you back to your dorm since it was late hour. He could also give your diary back while he was at it, he was getting tired of having to cling on to it just at the chance he would run into you. But he had thought to strike up a conversation first, because why not?

“Hey,” Cedric greeted you, approaching you slowly. “Hi,” you gulped and said awkwardly. You interrupt him before he could even say a word, “I-I know what this looks like,” you stammer, figuring out the right words to say as you try reasoning with him. “It sounds like a ridiculous thing to ask of you, I know– but don’t tell anyone,” as you speak, you’re also in plenty of disbelief that the literal head boy of all people would give you leeway for sneaking out like thi. Even if he is your friend, and even if it were just once.

“And why shouldn’t I?” He said so casually, as if you two were having a normal conversation; as if he were not on patrol at all and he hadn’t caught you outside your dormitory past the given curfew. He also knew damn well why, it was just fun eliciting a reaction from you. He was of course going to eventually give it back. “It’s so late, you should at least be in your common room around this time, you know?” He points out as well.

“Well, for one, I’ve been a good student this year, this is the only time I snuck out.. And, I have a reason for sneaking out–! It’s not for anything bad, I promise, it’s just I’ve been looking for my damn diary the entire day.. I must’ve lost it somewhere– look, I swear I’ll go back to the dorms right now if you please, please, don’t tell me out to anybody.” 

You begged him, clasping your hands together for dramatic effect as you gave him those puppy eyes you use whenever you wanted something from him. (Such as when you begged him to buy whatever you wanted when you two went to Zonko’s that one time. P.S. It worked.)

“You mean this thing?” he said slyly. As he pulled out your diary, he gave a look of mischievousness. He watched as your eyebrows raise up, a look of relief plastered on your face as you sigh. You walk towards him, extending out your arms as you make grabby hands. “Oh, yes! Yes, that’s the one, now if you could just give it back–” then, that’s when you get cut off. 

“Ah, ah, now wait just a moment,” he said, raising the arm with your diary in his hand so you couldn’t reach it. “I’ll let you off, and I’ll give it back if,” taking a deep breath before he spoke again, wondering if he should really be doing this. It was now or never. “You give me a kiss.”

He found it really amusing as a blush formed on your face, completely flustered as your eyes widened in a look with a mix of shock and disbelief. You had stopped grabbing for your diary, as you opened your mouth to say something, but you were rendered completely speechless. Was this just a dream? Surely it was, it was too good to be true…

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Cedric,” you fake-laugh, your tone being fully sarcastic. Seeing if he is just playing around with you. “No way in hell I would,” you add, just in case he really was joking. (Maybe you have slight trust issues.) “Just give it back.” Despite that, he looked dead serious. He stared you down, not breaking eye contact, making you gulp nervously. “Please?”

“Oh, come on,” he says as his voice drops, sounding more sultry. “I’m not gonna do anything unless you let me, but I know you want to.” His eyes observe your lips. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t touch you at all since you hadn’t given your consent yet. He kept his hands to himself, letting his body language do the talking. 

“Now what makes you say that?” You squint your eyes as you give a questioning look at him, acting, or trying to at least, unaffected. You still had your guard up, because seriously, what was up with this guy today? 

“Now, why’re you acting like you don’t want it? Hmm?” He smirked, “Could make all those fantasies of yours in that little book come true, you know.”

You looked mortified, as if you had seen a ghost. The last bits of your dignity withered away, long gone at this point. You wanted to shrivel up and sob in a corner out of pure humiliation. He read your diary. “No way, you read it!?” You slap his arm as you cover your face in sheer embarrassment. “Privacy exists, you know–!” Cedric let out a guttural laugh, unable consistently to keep up his flirty demeanour. “Hey, better me than anyone else, right? Besides,” he leaned on one of the bookshelves.

“I like you.”

If you thought you couldn’t get any redder, you were awfully wrong. You didn’t know what to say, as you practically threw yourself at him in an embrace. “I like you too…” you said, your voice muffled as your face was buried in his chest. “This is so embarrassing.”

He wasted no time in hugging you back, his arms wrapped around you. It was like you put on a warm blanket. You two stayed like that for a while, enjoying eachothers company. The moment of silence was interrupted as he said, “I should probably ask properly.” You look up at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He finally says.

“What do you think?” A rhetorical question.

“I need a yes or no, not a ‘what do you think’.”

“If you actually read my diary, you already have your answer.”

“Well then, it’s official,” he smiles. “Can I get that kiss now?” He says impatiently. You waste no time, tipping on your toes as you press your lips against his, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He wraps his hands around your waist, pushing you softly against a bookcase. It was chaste and passionate, as your lips intertwined as you two kissed in a slow rhythm. 

You pull away, catching your breath. “By the way, this doesn’t mean I forgive you for reading my diary,” you blurt out, Cedric chuckling at that.

Before you knew it, he was grabbing your wrist and leading you to his dorm room. It was clear to the both of you where this situation was going. As you walked together, your heart raced in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooded your senses. You both stopped in your tracks as you reached a portrait, that of Helena Ravenclaw’s. He mumbled the password and the portrait swung open, walking in whilst ducking his head over the small entrance and motioning you to come in as well. 

You assumed this was the heads’ common room, it was circular and decorated quite lavishly. If it were not for Cedric, you would have taken more time to admire the interior. It was definitely plenty grand compared to the regular ones. Though, you quickly were grounded back into the situation as he led you to his dorm– Head Boy’s–completely away from prying eyes. Oh, bless Cedric for being head boy and whoever decided that heads should have their own room. 

He slams the door shut behind you two, pinning you to it. Tension flooded the room, it was practically suffocating. He wastes no time, cupping your chin as he tilts your head slightly upward to make you look at him. He leaned in for a second kiss, your lips puzzle together once more. His hand interlocked with yours tightly as he held it up against the door panel, keeping you in place. 

It was not as innocent as it was the first time, in fact quite the opposite– amorous. It was far from perfect, given both of you were not experienced. All your knowledge came from things such as muggle films, you think.

You remembered how they opened their mouths slightly, imitating what you saw in fiction. You slowly gaped open your mouth, Cedric immediately getting the hint as he slid his tongue inside. You both attempted to swirl each other's tongues together, yet it was more clashing your tongues together with no rhythm whatsoever, in hoping something just works. Though it didn't make it any less hot, if anything, it was more.

It was awfully sappier than one would might like, but you two were both (not-so hopeless anymore) romantics. Perhaps it was the entire three years of obliviousness and pining for each other being poured into this moment. Though, given what you two are about to do, it is a bit fast for an official relationship. Well, yeah, as much as you just got together.. You both couldn’t help it nor wait anymore, not wanting to waste any more time, not after so many years with your feelings going unsaid. 

He took heavier breaths, grabbing ahold of your waist as he pressed himself closer against you. You both flushed, a bit embarrassed and nervousness surging through your veins as you gasped when his half-chubbed dick pressed against just above your groin. You couldn’t deny– you felt scared, a bit hesitant but you knew you wanted this more than anything. 

While you still kissed, you both toed off your shoes and made a beeline for the bed (a sad attempt). Because your senses of navigation clearly dwindled, not a care in the world but each other. You two accidentally bumped into one of the small tables, knocking down some of the books that lay on them. “Oops,” Cedric said lightheartedly. Pulling the both of you out of the moment momentarily, you two laughed and just chalked it up to fixing it later.

Finally reaching the four-poster (which was a lot bigger than the regular ones), even if it were a few feet away from where you two initially were, it was quite the journey. Cedric, who was the one leading out of the two of you, practically tripped you both into bed as he rested atop you. “Ced!” You squealed, “you’re crushing me!” light-heartedly, you say, as you jab at his chest playfully, in an attempt to push him off. 

“Well..not my problem, princess,” he laughed as he buried his face into your neck. Sucking and nipping at the flesh, leaving red marks on you as he placed a kiss on each one to seal them afterwards. “May I…?” He says, his hand trailing up to grab onto the hem of your tie, ready to pull it off. You give him a small, silent nod. He takes his time with you, as if he were unwrapping a huge present. 

He begins by pulling off your tie, discarding the article of clothing to a random corner of the room. The same goes for your robes, sweater, dress shirt…all long gone and forgotten. You were merely left with your undergarments and skirt on, as well as your socks. He stops dead in his tracks, taking a step back as he takes the sight of you in.

“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are.” He says each word clear as day– you’ve never heard anyone more confident in your life. You blush profusely, hands covering your face to conceal it. “I’ll die from those compliments before you actually start doing anything, you know?” You babble, too florid to think of words to form. 

He trails his hand, leading it down to your underwear, tugging down at the hem of it as to pull them off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, though not a hint of apology in his voice. You mutter something about him not being forgiven, ouch, so now he has two things he is yet to be forgiven for. He just smiles innocently back at you, lips all pouty as you pretend to sulk about it. (Obviously jokingly) When in fact, you wallow in the praise.

He leans into your ear as his hands now teasing at your folds, you let out a soft moan at his touch. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?” He says in a low, gravelly voice. Which had absolutely no right to sound that hot. “Please, Ced,” you say, trying not to sound like you were begging for it. “Wait,” he stops, getting up and begins to rummage through his drawer, looking for something. You look at him quizzically, wondering what he is doing and looking slightly disappointed at the loss of sensation.

After a few more seconds, he pulls out a small vial of a clear flaxen liquid and examines it before walking back to you. “Um, I’m really sorry, d’you think this’ll do?” He shows you the vial, which you had assumed to be a natural oil of sorts. “I, er, don’t have any lube.” He says awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to–” You cut him off immediately, quickly divulging that, “No, no, we– we can. I’m fine with it.” Okay, you definitely sounded a bit desperate. He nods, uncorking the vial as he coats his fingers with a fair amount.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, prodding two fingers at your pussy. “Just– just tell me if it hurts, okay? Tap my shoulder two times if you can’t speak.” You nod, and with that, he eases in slowly his fingers, your breath hitching as you feel his fingers slip inside you. It feels uncomfortable, causing you to shift in your position slightly. Cedric quickly stops inching his fingers inside as he asks if you’re okay. You tell him that you’re fine and to keep going, assuring yourself and him that it is normal. Hopefully you’ll get used to the feeling. 

He continues, eventually now fully inside you. “Let me know when, um, I can move them, okay?” He says caringly, not an inch of attention wavering away from you. After a bit, you give him the go-signal to move and he starts dragging his fingers out of you, albeit slowly, and pushing them back inside. He watches you attentively, carefully studying your expressions, your body language– His erection was straining against his pants at this point, begging to be freed, but of course he wanted to make sure you were thoroughly prepared. 

“Ah, Ced, mhh, maybe if you curl your fingers a–ah bit–” you moan, still feeling a slight discomfort and pain, though pleasure slowly seeps through. “Like this?” He says, as he curls his fingers inside you, moving in and out with languid strokes. You let out a particular wince, though you nodded in approval. “Yes, just like that– ah,”

It was not anything you were not used to, though you always felt guilty whenever you did such things to yourself. Especially if your only barrier to privacy is the curtains on your four-poster. Though it took a bit of adjusting, because Cedric’s fingers were no doubt bigger than yours. You feel your stomach curling, the feeling of release catching on to you. Cedric must have had a sixth sense, or really good observational skills (perhaps all that astronomy paid off.) because he pulled his fingers out of you the moment you were about to. You whine instinctively in response.

Before you knew it, he was getting rid of his sweater, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing the apparel in the same corner where your clothes went, though leaving his unbuttoned shirt on. You watched his every movement intently, feeling yourself getting wet at the sight of him undressing. He is tall, lean, and burly– has a good build from all that quidditch. Amen for that. 

Your eyes begin to linger down to his trousers, and a very obvious bulge that you can’t help but stare at. He continues by unzipping his fly, though not pulling down his pants. He tugged at his grey boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines, coating it with a light layer of the oil he had used earlier. You could not help but stare, your pupils dilated, clouding your eyes darkly with arousal. He crawls in between your legs as he now hovers atop you. He aligned his cock, tip pressing into the folds of your pussy. 

“M’nervous,” you mumble, almost nonsensically, though Cedric understood what you had tried to say. He leans in, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gently caresses your cheek, “If you’re feeling pressured, we don’t have to, y’know. We can just… Stop here, we can continue another time if you’d like, when you’re ready.” He says softly, warmth naturally oozing through his voice like honey, sweet and assuring. 

“No,” you say, quiet but firmly. “I want to.” 

“Then we will, just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be gentle.” He says, and his words make all your worries slowly ebb away. You feel safe with Cedric. You press your hips down onto his dick ever so slightly, letting the tip slide in. You gasp at the foreign feeling, nervous to fully take it all in. He notices, and as well lets out a soft moan, asking if he has permission to continue. You breathily say a yes, and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to push inside you.

It feels completely new, slightly painful with a twinge of pleasure. You shut your eyes, wincing at the sensation. Cedric examines your expressions as he inches in, checking for any signs of discomfort. He stops for a moment to ask if you’re okay, noticing your brows knitting together with your eyes shut. You assure him you’re fine, and tell him to keep going.

Eventually, he bottoms out inside you, though he doesn’t move immediately. You two just sit there for a good minute or two, kissing softly as your lips move in unison. Pulling away, panting as you say, “m-move, please,”

And who is Cedric to deny you of that? He began moving his hips slowly and shallowly, not wanting you to take too much at once. You also started getting a bit used to the feeling, though it was still mostly new to you. It didn’t feel as painful as it did, moaning in pleasure as he moved his hips. 

He then pulled out his cock, teasing you, and easing back in steadily, causing you to moan wantonly out loud. His thrusts still slow, but begin to get deeper as he holds your legs open. He was vocal too, nothing short of chanting your name and praising you in a gravelly voice, groaning and grunting ruggedly as he fucked his cock far into you. 

“You’re such a good girl f’me,” he pants, both of you moaning as he rocked his dick back into you with a particularly deep thrust. While the discomfort still remained, you grew more accustomed to the feeling of gratification that grew increasingly.“Ha– ah, harder, Ced,” you say, gasping in between your words. He did nothing shy of it, but not anything that he felt like would be too much for you.

“Merlin, y’feel so good,” he says huskily, moving his hips rhythmically slow, hard and deep as you’re reduced into a moaning mess. Your arms flail to the side of your head, grasping on the sheets as you arch your back. You were mumbling nonsensically, and Cedric laughed breathily as he told you how cute you were. He could only barely make out what seemed to be an I love you. “I love you too, princess,” he groans as he leans in and leaves a few more marks on your collarbone and neck.

You splay your hands onto his back. Digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks of your own though unintentionally. You drag your nails down his broad back, grabbing onto him as he knocks the wind out of you with each thrust.

You feel a fire pooling low in your abdomen, as well as the heightening sense of arousal as Cedric kept thrusting inside you. You feel your pussy tighten around him, “Mmh, Ced, I think I’m gonna–!” You squeal, Cedric grabs your hips and quickened his pace by a bit. “Go on, sweetheart.” He says low, letting his breath into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck. Reaching your limit, you feel your orgasm ripple through you.

Cedric kept going, though you could tell he was close, too– his thrusts growing sloppy as the echo of skin to skin and moans  from the both of you filled the room. His hips jerked a few more times as he finally sheathed fully and deep into you, as you two let out a long, drawn out moan as he was spilling his load inside your pussy. 

Clenching around his cock greedily, it’s as if you were going to wring him dry. You feel the way his cock pulses as he cums in you, a white ring pooling around the base of his cock with your mixed juices as it trickles down your folds. 

He collapses atop you, letting his head rest between your breasts as he’s still inside you. You two lay like that for a while, basking in the silence of the afterglow. You suddenly interrupt as you say, “Okay, maybe I forgive you..” 

He smiles and scoffs at that. Eventually, he pulls out and lays beside you, cuddling you from behind as you two exchange ‘I love you’s’ as you two drift off into sleep.

[cafeacademia]

𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are absolutely falling for Sebastian, but you're convinced he couldn't possibly share the same feelings and it leads you to avoid him a little more often. Only now he's starting to get an idea of what's really on your mind.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Some jealousy from Sebastian, pining, reader is a little self conscious, love confessions, shyness, a little bit of heated kissing, I only lightly edited this, so apologies for any mistakes.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 2k

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! Here's my first Sebastian fic, hopefully this came out okay! I'd LOVE some more Sebastian requests if you have any, if you'd like to send one please feel free! Please just check my current guidelines here Enjoy reading!! Comments and reblogs are not necessary but really appreciated!

Sebastian Sallow was certainly not going to be the reason for your gloomy mood. No, absolutely not. It was simply not fair that he was stupidly handsome and annoyingly flirtatious and all while you knew he couldn’t possibly like someone like you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Was it obvious? Too obvious or not enough that you liked him? Were the shy looks and the way you stumbled over your words when he smirked at you enough to tell him how you felt? Or did they just make you look silly? It was hard to tell with Sebastian, because as with all things, he felt the need to playfully flirt with you. It was impossible to tell how he felt about you, but Merlin, you wished he knew the way he affected you.

But perhaps it was best he didn’t know. You were sure you weren’t his type. You’d always been a bit self conscious and you were convinced that Sebastian just flirted with you because that was just his way of messing about and getting under people’s skin. You supposed it at least worked as intended, if that was indeed his intention.

You longed to be more than friends with Sebastian. Your first two years at Hogwarts had been all sorts of mischief and adventures together and you were sure that now in your seventh year that there was likely no end to those adventures any time soon, not while you spent nearly every waking hour together. But that didn’t remedy the flutter of butterflies in your stomach when you saw him. Nor did it quell the urge to reach out and hold his hand when you felt shy or afraid or just felt the need to be closer to him. Not to mention the undeniable urge to blurt it out at him when you sat alone together in the quiet moments.

You wanted so badly for him to know about your feelings for him, but at the same time, the thought of telling him and the fear of rejection was too much to allow those words to pass your lips.

So you stayed quiet. Being friends was better than falling out because you had opposite feelings for each other.

Perhaps the thing that made all of this worse was Sebastian’s recent escapades into taking flirting a step further with the girls he liked. As far as you knew, it never went further than a little heated moment in a secluded area, with nothing but a few kisses, but Sebastian was Sebastian and that smirk and charisma was sure to charm a girl into his bed at some point or another.

“Putting the world to rights, are we?” Speak of the devil. Sebastian sat down opposite you in the library, and he shall appear. “What’s on your mind? Because that look on your face is definitely not the type that goes along with Astronomy homework.” “It’s nothing, Seb.” You put on a smile and tried to shake off the lingering doubts in your head as you attempted to reorientate yourself with the task you had been doing before you’d zoned out. “Hmm, it doesn't look like nothing.” He sighed. “Is Garreth-.” “Garreth has not asked me to do his homework for him since you threatened to put pus in his pillow last term, Sebastian.” You snorted. “He was exploiting your inability to say no to people.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, is that it?” “Well perhaps,” He gave you a lopsided grin. “It was also because he was taking up too much of your time and I like to have my friends all to myself.” Your heart beat fast and you felt your cheeks prickle with uncontrollable heat at his comment. “Speaking of which, will you come with me to Hogsmeade later after class? I feel like I’ve barely seen you recently.” You supposed it was true, you had kind of tried to avoid him the more intense your feelings had become, but you couldn’t deny him time together, not when you loved it so much, “Of course.” You nodded in agreement, smiling softly at him. “Good, I’ll meet you outside of your class. But,” He paused. “You still haven’t told me what put such a sad look on your lovely face.” He was teasing, but there was an air of genuine concern. You sighed, twisting your hands in your lap as you diverted your gaze down to your books on the table in front of you. “I’ve just been feeling a little um, off?” You provided, though the raised brow that Sebastian gave you said all that he needed to say. He didn’t believe you.

The bell tolled and with that, you quickly began to pack your things. “I’ve got to go, Hecat won’t be pleased if I’m late again.”

Without another word, you picked up your things and rushed out of the library without him despite needing to attend the same class together, leaving Sebastian to stare after you, confused and at a loss.

Was it something he said? Sebastian swore that recently you had avoided telling him things, or releasing any of your thoughts about nearly anything he talked about these days. Perhaps you were growing apart, things like that happened, didn’t they? But Sebastian got the distinct impression that this was not a matter of growing apart, something lingered beneath the surface that stopped you from looking him in the eye and answering him with real sentences that lasted longer than a few disjointed words. There was definitely more to this and if Sebastian was good at something, it was getting to the bottom of a mystery.

Class was painfully slow. Lethifolds would have normally fascinated you, but today even Professor Hecat could not hold your attention, despite her captivating way of teaching. You didn’t sit with Sebastian like you normally did, instead you sat on the other side of the room, somewhere ahead of him and you felt like you could feel his stare on the back of your neck for the majority of the class. Your mouth ran dry when Hecat announced you’d be working in pairs, but before Sebastian could even stride across the room towards you, Leander snatched you up as his partner and instead of your usual shy mumbling to get yourself out of pairing with him and over to Sebastian, you gracefully accepted Leander’s partnership during the lesson.

“What’s with you and Sallow?” Leander asked as you both looked over the papers that Hecat had given you to identify a dark creature based on evidence alone. “What about me and Sebastian?” You asked, only half paying attention. “You’re normally attached at the hip, as it were.” He pointed out. “And um, it would appear you’re straying quite far recently.” “Yes, well Sebastian can survive without me now and again, I’m sure.” You replied rather airily, although you did not miss the odd look that Leander gave you. “I’m not so sure about that, from the looks he’s giving us right now, I’m afraid he might actually hurt me for pairing up with you.” He admitted and your eyes snapped up from your work to land on him. “What do you mean?” You asked, turning to peer over your shoulder at Sebastian. He sat on the other side of the room next to Ominis. His eyes met yours and for a moment, a look akin to jealousy bore into you, before turning back to Leander.

Defence Against The Dark Arts was finally over after nearly two hours and you felt both relief and worry pass through you at the sound of the bell in the tower ringing, both because it meant the tension would finally end, but concerned that you’d now be alone with Sebastian in Hogsmeade.

Sebastian left the room quickly and you took your time to clear up your things and leave the classroom, only for him to corner you outside of the door. “What happened to me getting my friends all to myself, hm?” He asked playfully and you were glad he wasn’t sulking. “Well I-.” “Partnering with Leander, really? Why not me?” He asked with false hurt in his voice. “Are you jealous, Sebastian?” “Something like that.” He turned serious. “Come with me, won’t you?” And you did, without question, follow him.

Sebastian led you silently off out of the castle, out of the grounds and towards a secluded spot near an old tree, away from prying ears. “There’s something you’re not telling me.” He sighed. “And as a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I know what it is.” You looked up at him in surprise, feeling yourself heat uncomfortably at his words. “You do?” You spoke barely above a whisper, afraid to trip over your words. “Mhm, but I’ve not been entirely truthful myself lately either.” Sebastian said, leaning against the tree behind you both as he reached out to gently brush his fingers over the back of your hand. “And I’m sorry. I was too afraid to say anything because I wanted you to take me seriously and–. You know what, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He swiped a hand over his face before trying again.

“Do you know why I flirt with you?” Sebastian asked, turning to look you in the eyes. “Um, because flirting is your way of communicating without having to make deep conversation?” You squeaked it out, watching as Sebastian snorted and shook his head. “Ouch. You wound me.” He laughed, eyes softening. “No, sweetheart. I flirt with you because I have feelings for you.” “You– what?” You floundered, confused for a moment, tilting your head slightly as you studied his face for any hint of a joke or lie, but there was none. You were stunned into silence for a moment or two, until you drew in a breath to speak and you parted your lips, his name soft in your voice. “Sebastian, I didn’t realise, I thought– well I thought you might not…” You trailed off, struggling to get the words out. “Might not what?” “You might not feel the same way about me, Seb.” You almost whispered it out. “Come here, let me show you.” His fingers interlaced with yours, gently pulling you closer, his other hand guiding you to his lips.

Sebastian kissed you softly, his lips warm and gentle. His touch was intoxicating, addictive and you couldn’t get enough. The way he held you, pressing you against his body, his kisses hot and comforting and everything you needed. For so long your feelings had gone unspoken, unnoticed, but now they were out in the open, plain for Sebastian to see. Every doubt ebbing away at the edges as you gripped his robes with your fingers, deepening the kiss as he helped you into his lap, your legs on either side of his, your skirt rucked up above your knees as you let all of your feelings out silently, translating them into the quiet press of your lips, the touch of your fingers at the nape of his neck, the soft gasp that passed your lips when you felt his grip tighten.

Slowly, you parted, slightly dazed, eyes begging for more, but Sebastian smiled, pressing his thumb to your lips, gently wiping the evidence of your kiss away. “Let’s not keep feelings away from each other again, sweetheart.” He spoke softly, his touch gentle on your thigh. “I promise.” You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again, his kisses soft against your lips. “Me too.” His words brushed against your skin. “Can we stay here for a moment longer?” You asked quietly. “We can stay for as long as you like, my sweet girl.” Sebastian whispered against your lips.

[groovebunker]

cc x fran fic masterpost

been meaning to do this for a little while - indulge me so i can pin it.

ongoing work

it's all there in black and white [teen - 4/?]

when newspaper editor maxwell sheffield wants to introduce an advice column, he pairs veteran political reporter cc babcock up with his newest hire, fashion columnist fran fine. the only problem? cc wouldn't take her own advice at gunpoint. oh, and she hates fran's perfect face and stupid laugh and general existence. there is that. aka the agony aunt au.

chapter one -- chapter two -- chapter three -- chapter four

i only liked a lot of things before i knew (the way i love it when you touch me now) [explicit - 1/2]

cc admits she's never been with a man who got her off. fran's nothing if not persistently helpful.

chapter one

can't reach the moon up above, don't dare touch the fire [explicit - 1/?]

cc's never been sure how to want things. fran's determined to show her how.

chapter one

what would you do?

what would you do (if they never found us out?) [explicit - 11/11]

after what was supposed to be a one time thing in the wine cellar, cc and fran find they can't keep their hands off of one another. but it's only because neither of them can get maxwell. right?

i. how it started -- ii. furious -- iii. do you trust me? -- iv. beautiful -- v. missed you -- vi. promises -- vii. i'm glad you're here -- viii. i've got you -- ix[a]. only bought (you) this dress so i could take it off. -- ix[b]. needing -- x. what would you do if they ever found us out

what would you do (the vignettes) [explicit]

i. the smoke gets in your eyes -- ii. while you were sleeping

the latke-verse

i like you (a latke) [teen - completed - 1/1]

fran doesn't want to show up to her ma's chanukah party alone. cc's fed up of seeing her sad since she got back from paris. no ulterior motives here, none at all. aka the fake dating chanukah fic.

seventh time is (hopefully) the charm [teen - completed - 1/1]

cc gets some help with valentine's breakfast.

won't you?

won't you just let me pretend that this is the love that i want? [teen]

there's a lot of things cc and fran never talk about. until they do.

won't you just show me the love that i need? [teen]

cc's never been good at being needed. unless, obviously, fran needs her.

won't you just give me the love that i long for? [mature - 2/2]

neither of them are sure how it's so confusing to be able to have what you want. until it's not.

chapter 1 -- chapter 2

won't you just show me the love i've been missing? [teen - 1/?]

sometimes, you have to go back to where you started for anything to change.

chapter 1

should be over all the butterflies [mixed ratings]

a series of vignettes set in the won't you universe.

august two thousand and nine: the fence -- two thousand and six: crossword -- two thousand: the beginning -- two thousand and three: the first time -- two thousand and seven: look after her -- two thousand and eleven: no such thing as bad thoughts -- two thousand and fourteen: how did you know? -- two thousand and seventeen: i wish you hadn't

one-shots (for now)

trick or treat (or: how cc babcock learnt to enjoy halloween) [mature]

c.c. does not like halloween. fran's absolutely not going to stand for that.

fran fine, sweater thief [teen]

five times fran wears c.c.'s sweater and one time c.c. turns the tables.

wise men followed the star (the way i followed my heart) [explicit]

when the phone rings at 11 on christmas eve, fran doesn't expect cc on the other end.

i want your midnights [teen]

c.c. does leave maxwell but that's not the only reason she runs away from the sheffield house. when she and fran end up at the same new year's eve party, can she convince herself to stand still?

i still see it all in my head (burnin' red) [teen]

soulmate au: the world is black and white until you see your soulmate for the first time. or: how red becomes c.c. babcock's favourite colour.

three minutes [teen]

fran finds someone unexpected on the other side of the table when val accidentally takes her to lesbian speed dating. unexpected but not necessarily unwanted.

black coffee morning on the east side [general]

fran's not sure what cc stands for. but she's absolutely going to find out. or: the one where fran's a barista and cc's a very beautiful stranger who drinks freshly brewed black coffee and blushes a lot.

[shadowtriovibes]

where there's smoke, there's firewhiskey

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC x Garreth Weasley

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: aged-up characters, established relationship seb x mc, underage drinking (by today's standards), recreational drug use, shotgunning, references to threesomes

Summary: request: "imagine a modern au, where parties are more like our idea of them and not, y'know, victorian england. And getting high, drunk, or both, at a party and running into literally any one of the boys and just acting like horny college kids. Seb fits this idea best in my head but kinda sorta lowkey I could see Garreth being a stoner LMAO." (predictably, i decided that three heads are better than two)

"What are we doing?" you whisper. "Having fun," Sebastian answers cheekily. "It's a party, we're allowed to have a little fun." "Doesn't have to be serious," Garreth chimes in, still pressing wet kisses to your neck. "In fact, it's usually better if it's not."

On nights like tonight, you’re quite proud to be a Hufflepuff.

You may have only been at Hogwarts for less than two years, but it didn’t take long to learn that all too often, your house is the least loved. Ravenclaws have their intelligence, Gryffindors their bravery, and even Slytherins their cunning, but what have you Hufflepuffs got?

Well, tonight what you’ve got is the honor of hosting the best party you’ve ever been to.

As soon as dinner had ended, your cozy, comforting common room had been completely transformed into a raucous den of teenage misbehavior from one last blowout party before your N.E.W.T.s exams start next week. For hours your classmates have taken turns sneaking sixth- and seventh-years from other houses in small groups down past the kitchens and through Hufflepuff’s massive barrel entrance until it felt like just about all your classmates were here.

There’s Muggle music blaring on someone’s contraband stereo across the room and some N.E.W.T.s-level Potions students are delightedly combining wizarding spirits with Muggle mixers and passing them out to members of a very thirsty crowd — in the pursuit of knowledge, of course.

Predictably, you’re already in Sebastian’s lap. All night he’s been unabashedly charming you into taking sips of Firewhiskey from his own bottle, wary of whatever has been bubbling away in Sacharissa’s cauldron.

Your boyfriend has turned you into a big fan of Firewhiskey. Every time you take a sip of the cinnamon-spiced spirit, you feel its warmth spread from the very top of your head down to the tips of your toes and everywhere in between. It’s sweet, slightly spicy and way too easy to drink whenever Sebastian offers you the bottle by its neck.

Now you’re tipsy and warm and perfectly content to sit with him in an armchair by a tucked-away fireplace on the far end of the room.

Plus, he looks so bloody fit in the varsity Quidditch jacket that Imelda had gifted members of the team at the end of the season that you can barely stand to take your hands off his broad chest.

Between your murmured conversations and occasional aimless kisses, Sebastian teasingly announces, “Looks like your friend’s just arrived.”

“Who, Natty?” you ask hopefully.

“Garreth,” he says instead, and you’re immediately suspicious of the way he’s smirking at you.

“What’s that look for?” you ask him.

He pointedly ignores your question and instead waves Garreth over. Across the room, he’s just climbed into the common room with a group of other Gryffindors, looking artfully disheveled as always.

He perks up when he notices you and quickly weaves his way over to the sitting area you and Sebastian had claimed. Your boyfriend disappointedly lets you climb off his lap so you can greet Garreth and give him a hug.

“Want to sit with us?” you offer. “Sebastian’s got some whiskey if you’d like some.”

“I’m alright, thanks,” he says kindly, taking a seat on the couch across from Sebastian. “But I’ll join you anyway.”

You wouldn’t dream of telling Sebastian, but over the years you’ve always maintained a slight crush on Garreth. You love Seb, you’re mad about him and you hope you’ll be together well after your tenure at Hogwarts ends, but still… That harmless crush persists, and it makes your heart race a little whenever Garreth smiles at you across his potions station or compliments your spellwork in Charms.

It doesn’t help that he’s generally a massive flirt.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” you offer after chatting with him for a while. “Everyone’s been getting boozed-up for hours.”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Garreth admits. “But I’ve got my own stuff.”

Reaching into the pockets of his trousers, Garreth pulls out a small wooden box and flips open the lid. From inside he pulls out a small, thin strip of parchment and a small bag of what looks to be ground-up leaves.

“What have you got?” you ask curiously.

“Mallowsweet,” he replies, and sure enough, when he opens up the bag and tips some of its contents into his hand, you catch the magical herb’s familiar honey-like scent.

“Why?” you ask, and Garreth raises an eyebrow at you.

“You can smoke it,” Garreth explains as if it’s obvious. “It’ll loosen up your inhibitions just like alcohol. Have you never had Mallowsweet like this before?”

“No,” you admit. “I’ve really only used it for completing Merlin Trials, and Professor Garlick is surprisingly strict about how much she lets me grow.”

“It’s not her fault, the Ministry’s been trying to make it a controlled substance for years now,” Garreth explains. “She can’t let students have too much, but if you buy some off Timothy down at the Magic Neep, he’ll give you as much as you want.”

“And then you just dry it out to smoke it?” you ask, peering at the small, dried-out pieces of leaves in the palm of his hand.

“Yeah, that’s easy enough to do myself,” Garreth laughs. “All you need is a quick-drying charm and then it’s ready to smoke.”

You watch as he takes the small piece of parchment and tips the dried Mallowsweet onto it, and then he places the paper on the low table in front of you and carefully rolls it into a thin, cigarette-shaped joint. Finally, he seals it by licking along the exposed edge and pressing it closed.

“Got a light for me?” he jokes, placing one end in his mouth.

You roll your eyes fondly and gently tap the tip of your wand against the end of the joint. With a quick spark, a small flame jumps to life and the joint lets out a thin tendril of smoke.

Garreth takes a long drag and as he exhales, he murmurs, “Thanks, love.”

The pet name makes you blush, and you hope it’s not visible in the low lighting of the party.

“You want to try some?” he offers. “I think you’d like it.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask curiously.

Garreth pauses for a beat to consider before he tells you, “For me, it’s really calming. It kind of… turns my senses down, if that makes sense. Everything gets quieter, and less hurried.”

“That sounds really nice,” you say softly. “But I haven’t ever smoked anything before.”

You watch Garreth’s gaze drift down to your mouth, lingering a little longer than he’d usually be able to get away with. “Maybe I can help you.”

“You should shotgun her,” Sebastian suggests, and you startle, guiltily remembering that he’s still seated a few feet away in that armchair, watching the two of you with a keen look on his face.

“Yeah?” Garreth asks. “That’s alright?”

“It’s a party,” Sebastian says with a shrug. “I’m alright with it if she is.”

“What’s that mean, ‘shotgun?’” you ask skeptically. “Like how Everett chugs Butterbeers from the side of the can?”

“Not that kind,” Garreth laughs. “It’s more like… I’ll take a hit, and then when I breathe out, you’ll breathe in.”

You frown, confused. Garreth just smirks and offers, “It’s really easier to just do it than explain.”

“Sure, yeah,” you agree. “Go on then.”

Garreth lifts the joint to his lips again and takes another slow drag, holding his breath at the top while he sets the lit joint down in an ashtray on the table. Then he gently grips your chin with one hand and pulls you in like he’s going to kiss you, but before he does, he taps on your bottom lip with one long finger so you’ll open your mouth.

His lips just barely brush against yours while he carefully exhales smoke into your mouth, and thankfully your soft gasp breaks your trance and forces you to inhale that same smoke. It tastes slightly sweet on your tongue, as the name suggests, but pleasantly herbal as well.

“Hold onto it for a moment,” Garreth murmurs, his lips still touching yours. “Then breathe out.”

You count to five in your head and exhale. The smoke dissipates in front of you, and as soon as it clears, you’re staring right into Garreth’s warm brown eyes.

“Sebastian,” he says, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re not going to curse me for this, are you?”

“Go on, Weasley,” Sebastian drawls. “She wants you to.”

You want to offer an excuse, an apology, anything in response to Sebastian’s obviously correct assumption. Instead, you just lean into Garreth a bit closer and suddenly he’s kissing you, one hand still cradling your jaw.

He’s an excellent kisser, you think. You’ve only got Sebastian to compare him to, and he’s brilliant at it by your standards, but kissing someone new is so thrilling. Especially when it’s Garreth, who’s not only charismatic and glaringly fit but always so sweet and gentle with you.

Your eyes drift shut as Garreth kisses you deeper. He presses his tongue alongside yours and you taste more Mallowsweet, with a little bit of pumpkin juice.

While you can’t see him, you hear Sebastian stand up from the armchair and take a seat next to you on the couch, his larger form blocking you in and shielding you and Garreth from anyone who might glance your way from the common room.

He rests a hand dangerously high up on your thigh and leans in close to your ear to murmur, “You’re an awful liar when you have a crush, d’you know that?”

You whimper softly and Garreth swallows the sound.

“Don’t worry yourself, love,” Sebastian laughs quietly. “I’m better at sharing than you give me credit for.”

Garreth starts to kiss his way down your chin to your jaw and you tip your head back a little. Sebastian’s right there to drag his hand through your hair to coax you into leaning back even more. You moan softly when you feel the redhead suck a small bruise into your skin.

“What are we doing?” you whisper.

“Having fun,” Sebastian answers cheekily. “It’s a party, we’re allowed to have a little fun.”

“Doesn’t have to be serious,” Garreth chimes in, still pressing wet kisses to your neck. “In fact, it’s usually better if it’s not.”

You scoff and tell him, “That is officially the most Garreth thing I’ve heard you say all evening.”

While you and Sebastian are hopeless fools for each other and have been for ages, Garreth’s reputation is that of a perennial bachelor. He goes on lovely dates, and if the rumor mill is to be believed, he’s an excellent shag. But he genuinely appreciates being single for now, especially so close to graduation.

“W-well, um…” you stutter. “How much fun are we talking about?”

“How much do you want?” Sebastian asks, his hand on your thigh sliding higher underneath the hem of your skirt.

“We haven’t ever – y’know,” you hiss. “With someone.”

Garreth sits back and grins cheekily at you. “I have.”

“That’s not surprising, Weasley, you’re kind of a slag,” Sebastian smirks. “Who was it then?”

“Bit personal, don’t you think, Sallow?” he responds.

“You’ve just had your tongue in my girlfriend’s mouth, I think we’re well past any sort of modesty,” Sebastian counters, and you could not possibly be any redder, you think.

Garreth leans over to the table and lifts his joint to his slightly-swollen lips to take one last long pull before answering.

“Fine, it was Adelaide and Nerida,” he admits ruefully. “Bit of a package deal, those two.”

“You’re foul,” you laugh, but then Garreth slides his hand up your other thigh and suddenly you’ve got two of the most handsome boys in school boxing you in, each with a hand up your skirt. Any thoughts you’d spared for Hogwarts gossip go straight out the window.

“We should, um… Maybe we should go somewhere more private,” you suggest, still keenly aware of the party going on just feet away.

“Everyone’s down here for the party,” Sebastian suggests. “The dorms upstairs have got to be pretty empty right now, wouldn’t you think?”

“Can confirm,” Garreth agrees.

Reluctantly, both boys let you go and you smooth your skirt back down, standing up with wobbly legs. You hadn’t realized before, but the Mallowsweet has firmly taken effect on your system.

“Feeling alright?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes, I… I feel quite good, actually,” you murmur. “Really good.”

“She’s crossed,” Garreth laughs, affection clear in his voice. “Mallowsweet and Firewhiskey, now there’s a dangerous combination.”

“I feel warm,” you tell them. “All over, just warm and relaxed and…”

When you trail off, Sebastian asks knowingly, “Has it got you feeling a bit hot under the collar, love?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Really hot.”

“Sounds like you could use our help to cool you off,” Sebastian suggests. “Shall we?”

“After you, mate,” Garreth laughs.

As Garreth trails the two of you up the stairs to your dorm, you hear Sebastian mumble, “You’re bloody well right, after me.”

[ladiesofhpfest]

Hands of Time by @charmsandtealeaves

We're kicking off Molly Weasley a bit early (by Western hemisphere times), but it's right on time for the Eastern hemisphere! Charms is getting us started with this 772 word fic on Molly's grief.

Snippet below; keep reading on ao3!

After an exhausting day of social niceties towards the Delacour family and final wedding preparations, Molly Weasley was glad to finally be able to get ready for bed - even if bed was a transfigured sofa in the living room for the time being. But despite how weary she felt as she applied her nightly face cream in front of the bathroom mirror, Molly’s mind raced. In a matter of mere hours young Harry Potter, who should hopefully already be tucked up asleep in Ron’s attic bedroom, would be of age. 

In the past few years the boy had become as good as a seventh son to her and Arthur, and tomorrow he would become a man. Between wedding preparations she’d fretted over that fact. It was tradition on one’s 17th birthday to receive a wristwatch from their parents or guardian. On Bill’s 17th, as the eldest son, he’d been presented with Arthur’s watch. A family heirloom that had been passed along generations of Weasley’s. Each of her son’s since had been given one of their own, brand new to start their own traditions if they wished. 

continue reading on ao3

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Seventh Year: A Finale Bonus Scene 3

No one asked for Pansy Parkinson's POV. You are going to get it anyway. And this is Pansy Parkinson's POV from pre-Hogwarts up through their seventh year. :)

Notable trigger warnings include bigotry, racism, and degrading language.

Bonus Scene 1

Bonus Scene 2

Bonus Scene 4

**

Pansy so clearly remembered the day she had first met Draco Malfoy. It had been his sixth birthday party, and her father had warned her about making a good first impression. They wanted to keep good relations with the Malfoy family, potentially even with marriage talks down the line.

Draco had seemed like a prince when she first saw him with that pale skin, gray eyes, beautiful face, and ashen blond hair. He had been polite with her, and Pansy knew she wanted him.

It had been a desire to have something that was hers, though she soon realized she couldn’t be Draco’s sole focus. There were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, though they were dull and slow. But she could nonetheless be a close confidante, one of his friends and hopefully more later.

They continued meeting throughout the years leading to their first year at Hogwarts. Draco did warm up to her, smiling at her when he saw her and also giving her thoughtful gifts. There weren’t yet any talks about marriage, but Pansy was sure they would be happening at some point soon.

Only they didn’t, and Pansy fretted about why. It wasn’t as if relations between her family and Draco’s worsened, so it was still possible. Besides, soon she would be seeing Draco every day.

She looked forward to the Hogwarts Express, meeting and spending time with Draco where there were no nosy parents present.

Only when the day came, she didn’t see him. She did see Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Theodore Nott. But Draco and the two boys he always had by his side? He was missing and she didn’t see him at all on the train. When they boarded the boats for the lake, she did manage to catch a glimpse of him in a boat with an unfamiliar dark-skinned boy along with Crabbe and Goyle.

Well, that was all right then. He was still in the same House as her.

Draco was as charming as ever when she finally spoke to him in the Common Room, though he did complain about Harry Potter.

It turned out to be a recurring theme for Pansy that year. Potter and, inexplicably, Wayne Hopkins. Hopkins was that dark boy he had been with, though he had been sorted into Hufflepuff. Only, he kept spending time with him. Draco even had a study group with the boy!

Pansy couldn’t make sense of it. Why would he want to spend time with someone so…dirty? Why did he seek him out? He didn’t even seek Pansy out! Hopkins was never the first to meet with Draco, and that told Pansy more than anything what Hopkins thought of Draco.

So why did Draco continue to pursue anything with him?

When asked, Draco had nothing to say beyond that it was important to facilitate connections.

Pansy didn’t see how it was helpful, especially as Hopkins’s other friends included mudbloods.

Still, Draco could have other connections. She knew that. Pansy had her own.

In the end, she had known him longest.

Their second year was much the same as the first with the inclusion of the excitement of the Chamber being opened. Only the entire affair died down without any hint about who had done it.

She was still close to Draco, claiming his time in the evenings in the Common Room, but he also continued his friendship with Hopkins. Hopkins continued to be polite and cordial with Draco, but he was also…odd. Something about him…

Pansy couldn’t put her finger on it, but he seemed cold. So cold and distant to Draco, yet Draco continued to study with him.

It wasn’t fair.

Until suddenly it was, when Draco and Hopkins had a falling out over that oaf’s pet hippogriff. 

There were no more study groups. No more points where Draco would go and seek out Hopkins’s company. Instead he spent more time with her and the other Slytherins, where he belonged.

Draco was still charming to her, but he was also…more irritable. He seemed to be continually upset by something, though when asked would simply indicate his injured arm. But even after the bandages came off the bad temper continued.

Well, it was the Dementors. Pansy hated them, too. Everyone did.

It would be better once Black was caught and the Dementors gone.

And it was, once summer was over and they were back for the next year. Draco wasn’t quite as irritable as he had been before, though he still had his moments. Pansy thought that perhaps it had something to do with the Quidditch World Cup and what had happened there, though he refused to comment on the matter.

Pansy hadn’t realized how much she’d grown to appreciate the new normal until it was gone from one moment to the next. She hadn’t been there to see, but she heard all about how Hopkins had transfigured Draco back from what Moody had done. Draco hadn’t spoken on the matter despite Pansy asking him, though he looked increasingly like something was on his mind.

If Pansy had known that he was thinking about reconciling with Hopkins, she might have…done something. Because he reconciled and then spent even more time with Hopkins.

He even backtracked on the badges he’d made, muttering something about them being too juvenile. Pansy knew that wasn’t something he would have thought on his own; he had been so proud of them. How could Hopkins insult his work like that? Draco had put so much effort in them! And why did Draco just let it happen?

Pansy didn’t know what exactly was happening, but she didn’t like it. This was different than the other connections Draco had cultivated. Rather than Draco leading, it seemed he more or less followed Hopkins.

She just couldn’t understand why. Hopkins was so – so strange. She hadn’t spoken to him but why would she need to when she could see how bloody strange he was? He wasn’t good enough for Draco, looking unattractively dark next to Draco’s pale skin.

But she was the one going with Draco to the Yule Ball. He had asked her, and that was all she needed to know. He hadn’t asked Daphne, Millicent Bulstrode, or Tracey Davis. He’d asked her.

It was one step closer to the relationship she had dreamed of.

Only then Draco abandoned her, choosing to spend time with Hopkins. It wasn’t as if Hopkins didn’t have a date. He had gone with Loony Lovegood, but she simply pulled him down to peck his cheek affectionately before skipping off to dance with the rest of their little friend group. Hopkins stayed to the sides and Draco joined him, laughing and smiling in a way Pansy had never seen from him before as they talked.

Draco did dance with her once, but that was only because she had asked him for one. Loony asked Hopkins as well and Pansy had the pleasure of seeing him awkwardly lead her around the room once before dropping her back off with an amused Longbottom and once more sequestering himself in a corner. Only Draco joined him there as well after telling Pansy she should dance with Theodore Not if she still fancied dancing.

Something was wrong, she realized with a sinking pit in her stomach. Her dream faded further and further out of reach with every year, and it wasn’t even another girl she could blame. It was Hopkins – a boy.

He didn’t even treat Draco right! He barely even seemed to tolerate him, and all his smiles were so bloody smug and self-satisfied, as if he was reveling in having Draco Malfoy’s attention.

At least the night wasn��t a total waste. She was able to speak to a reporter about that oaf of a professor and see the fruits of her efforts the next morning.

Only instead of Draco seeming pleased by Pansy’s work, he seemed sick. He didn’t join in on the jokes or even congratulate her like others were. He vanished after breakfast and when she next tried to find him he was with Hopkins.

Of course.

Pansy tried to get Draco’s attention. She tried to be better, show him what he actually deserved. But he didn’t even smile at her like he used to, pulling back the more she tried to reach out.

And when she was invited to Malfoy Manor, it was with several others and they all knew why. So it made no sense to suddenly see Hopkins appear. He wasn’t one of the inner circle. He had no reason to be here.

Except that Draco had invited him.

Trying to turn it to her advantage failed, with Hopkins turning everything around on her and seeming utterly bored and unimpressed with the entire affair. She had the distinct impression that he had other things he would rather be doing with his time.

Did he think himself too good for them? she thought furiously as she was led away by a house-elf to tend to her burnt hands.

He was so bloody stupid with his talk about needing to use their power wisely. Snape had chosen her as prefect for a reason, meaning he agreed with what she would choose to do. Hopkins evidently disagreed, and it seemed Draco would opt to follow his lead here.

Could he not think for himself? Had he gone mad, listening to a half-blood? She asked this question of him later when they were in the Common Room after escorting the first years. 

Draco had taken a little to respond, saying he was being a leader worthy of the Malfoy name. He would establish the name as one to be respected. Shouldn’t she be able to recognize that?

Should she? She could scarcely recognize Draco. How could he abandon everything they stood for? For a filthy half-blood boy?

Umbridge was a blessing in disguise until she wasn’t, removed after some sort of magic backlash that left her bleeding profusely. But then there was Runcorn and the Inquisitorial Squad, which Draco also joined.

His reasoning had been similar to that of what he did as prefect, which made sense, though Pansy was still suspicious. He was spending so much time with Hopkins, even going with him to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s, turning down Pansy’s own invitation. There were rumors around Hogwarts about it having been a date, though those were quickly quelled by Hopkins’s friends.

She didn’t understand. No one else seemed to or they simply didn’t care to find out more.

How could they not?

She simmered with helpless fury for the remainder of the year.

The Dark Lord died and the Dark Lord rose again. Only this time he drew Draco into his inner fold, giving him the Dark Mark. 

Pansy didn’t know what he was tasked with, only her father told her to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t engage with Hopkins. It was something she gleefully took on. Finally someone had seen what she had all along!

She was able to rub it into Hopkins’s shocked face on the train, rejoice in Draco rebuffing him, and silently delight in finally having Draco’s attention once more. She didn’t even have to try that hard to keep him away from Hopkins, Draco doing the work himself, but she enjoyed every moment of Hopkins’s startled and dismayed faces.

The sight of him having juice thrown onto him would play a starring role in her dreams for some time.

Hopkins had lost control and couldn’t get it back. Not with the Dark Lord back and with Draco in the palm of his hand.

Still, it wasn’t quite perfect. Draco seemed stressed, staying up late into the night. He didn’t seem pleased to be with Pansy and kept even Crabbe and Goyle at a distance.

And then Hopkins lost his parents. He looked rather stunned the next time Pansy saw him, and she couldn’t help but poke at him, wanting to break that normally unflappable demeanor, see how much further he could break.

Only Draco interfered, hauling her off and giving her a verbal tongue lashing that she wasn’t to approach him again. Had she no shame?

She had shame, but did Draco? Defending someone he had verbally castigated and rebuffed multiple times this year? Where did he get off defending him now?

There hadn’t been anything Draco said to that. He just warned her to watch her step and left. She didn’t see him for a few days after except in classes, and he didn’t look well.

Her father kept her away from Malfoy Manor during winter break, and when she returned to Hogwarts Draco looked worse. He was no longer paying as much attention in classes, having narrow shaves in Potions and Herbology.

He was also spending time elsewhere. Pansy wasn’t sure where except he was spending as little time in the Common Room as possible.

Except, from one day to the next, Potter was suddenly accused of putting Hopkins in the Hospital Wing. There had been an altercation between him and Draco and Hopkins had been in the middle of it.

Pansy hadn’t seen Draco after, though Theodore told her he had been covered in blood and shaking so hard he could barely clean himself.

Although hoping Hopkins would bite it and die, it turned out he made a full recovery. He didn’t even seem all that affected by what had happened.

Draco also seemed significantly less stressed and a little calmer. The two events were likely connected no matter how much Pansy hated to think of it.

But it didn’t change that the Dark Lord had given his orders and Draco had to follow them.

One night she was woken by something she couldn’t pinpoint. It left her shivering in her bed, a nameless fear pinning her in place. She wasn’t the only one, the other girls in her room similarly paralyzed.

The next morning, they came to the Great Hall and heard the news that the Dark Lord was once again dead, his remaining Death Eaters captured, and the Astronomy Tower was firmly off-limits to everyone. And from the information being whispered, Potter, Draco, and Hopkins had been in the middle of it.

Draco didn’t speak of anything, and Hopkins was too intimidating for anyone to ask questions related about it. He usually just ended up giving the questioner a long look; it was sometimes accompanied by a raised eyebrow. If he knew the person, he’d ask if they didn’t have more important matters to attend to.

As for Potter… He was an open book, except he also refused to explain what had happened. Only from what Pansy could tell, it had been bad. The fact that the Astronomy Tower was so tightly locked down no one could even sneak in spoke for itself.

But one thing was clear to Pansy. And it was that Draco had said something to Hopkins based on how they were behaving around each other. It didn’t seem to have gone that well, which was Pansy’s sole consolation.  He’d probably confessed, since now Pansy could fully admit that that was what had been so different between Draco and Hopkins. Maybe it hadn’t always been the case, but it had been since…the very least their fourth year. She couldn’t forget the Yule Ball and how happy Draco had looked with Hopkins.

She still didn’t understand why. Why Hopkins? What made him so different? He was a half-blood. His father was a bloody grocer. He wasn’t even originally from Britain. He wasn’t a woman. He couldn’t even act normal. He didn’t treat Draco as he deserved. 

So why him? Pansy had known Draco first!

But if Hopkins wasn’t interested…

Only then he changed his mind, and he and Draco seemed to be enjoying themselves based on what they spoke about at the House tables. They clearly had no shame.

She was upset enough that she figured that if Draco could look elsewhere, then so could she. And maybe Draco would then see what he was missing. Which led her to Theodore. He wasn’t anywhere as handsome or refined as Draco, but he was at least a pureblood.

He was a little more disappointing in other areas, but Pansy couldn’t be that picky. She certainly wasn’t going to go to Crabbe or Goyle. Or Zabini. It left her with very limited options, so Theodore it was.

The maddening part was that Draco didn’t even notice.

(The reported disappearance of Draco’s Dark Mark was an oddity but not one Pansy was too concerned about. She could have been wrong about him being marked. He had never shown the arm to her and had always worn long sleeves.)

Hopkins and Draco had a date that Valentine’s, but that clearly didn’t go well since afterwards Draco ended up going on dates with other people. Noticeably, none of these people were Pansy. 

She was right there! How could he not ask her?

And why would Hopkins just let him go? Why wouldn’t Hopkins take advantage of the fact that Draco was wrapped around his finger?

Pansy confronted him, but that was only because she thought she had it handled, identified his weak spot, only for Hopkins to once more turn it around on her and reveal to everyone just how disappointing her relations with Theodore were. She and Theodore rowed all the way back to the Common Room, where Draco was obliviously frowning to himself.

He didn’t even seem to notice why she was upset, just refusing to ask her out. And the look on his face! He hadn’t even considered her as an option in the first place!

The rest of the argument between her and Theodore was once more disappointingly resolved. Theodore was very insistent on why Pansy couldn’t have told him? And why did she have to confront Hopkins like that?

No one in the Common Room looked at Pansy that night, though they did have questions for Draco. Questions he absolutely refused to answer.

Pansy didn’t know if he’d actually had any relations with Hopkins or not. She opted for the former, since otherwise why would they have been talking about that at breakfast? It made Hopkins throwing Draco aside even more disgusting, since he’d clearly received what he wanted and was finished with the matter.

She would never do that. She would treasure every moment with Draco and treat him as he deserved.

If only Draco could see that.

At least there was the chance he would now, given Hopkins had so clearly rejected him.

Pansy didn’t see Draco a single time that summer. Her father was ominously silent on the matter and her mother had no news.

She had hoped Draco’s father would have some influence over him, remind him of his duty. Yet it didn’t seem like anything would change.

There were some rumblings about unusual Dementor activity but nothing that concerned Pansy. This would be her last year. The last year she had with Draco.

It was so infuriatingly frustrating that he kept avoiding her. He was pleasant and polite, in a way that Pansy realized he had always been, but he didn’t seek her out. He spent more time with Zabini and Daphne, which he never had before.

And he was still with Hopkins. Always with Hopkins. He didn’t even go on dates anymore.

Hopkins didn’t even deign to give him the time of day! But he seemed so smugly pleased whenever Draco spoke to him, like he knew Draco was wrapped around his finger. Why couldn’t Draco see that?

Then came the Dementors, the chilling cold, hearing and feeling that terrible pain. The sun going out. No sign of Draco. No sign of Hopkins. No sign of any of their little group of friends.

Until suddenly they appeared again in the middle of the Great Hall like they had always been there. And a little Hufflepuff called out Hopkins for having been in the middle of the Dementors and him quietly stating he was only doing his job.

There was no way, Pansy thought. There was no way he had been outside in that mess. It was more likely he had been hiding away in a closet for the right time. And with Draco…

Yet being the teacher’s pet he was, Hopkins was eventually tasked with primary responsibility over the visiting Aurors. It wasn’t official but Pansy could read between the lines of what Dumbledore said.

That wasn’t fair.

Pansy was a prefect, too. And these were foreign Aurors. She could make some useful connections.

But Hopkins made her so angry. Always calm, always sure of himself. He always had a response to anything she said. He didn’t even realize what he held in his hand with Draco. Draco, who continued to pine after him and beg for scraps. Pansy hated seeing it.

Her mouth ran away on her, and before she knew it Hopkins had done something and she couldn’t speak. The foreign Aurors just watched, none of them stepping in despite what was happening.

She felt trapped. Like a mouse. It was like staring in the eyes of a predator, except this one didn’t even want to eat her.

She was forced to apologize, and she had her badge taken away by Draco. Who was as chillingly polite as always. 

It wasn’t until she was safely back in her Common Room that she realized what a fool she had been. A prey? A predator? She had been utterly ridiculous, fooled by whatever magic Hopkins had cast. And now she wasn’t even a prefect.

She kept her chin up high despite the whispers from the other students. Daphne was prefect now, which just served to show Hopkins had fingers in everything.

Draco politely avoided her, but at this point that wasn’t new.

But then Hopkins disappeared. Rumor was that he had gone with the foreign Aurors, having been given a job considering his accomplishments. Pansy didn’t know if that was true since the professors never confirmed anything.

It was more likely he had been expelled for what he had done to her. 

His friends seemed far too disappointed for Hopkins to have received a lucrative job offer so he had to have been expelled.

There was some discontent among the younger years at this rumor, though there was still no official word.

The worst part was that Draco didn’t even do anything differently. He still met up with Hopkins’s friends and, shockingly, his new bosom friend appeared to be Loony Lovegood. Pansy had snidely commented on him finally moving on only to get a sharp look and Draco warning her not to speak of Loony like that again. His tone was forbidding enough she listened.

But then in January, Draco abruptly disappeared. Hopkins’s other friends vanished at the same time. Zabini and Daphne had no information – at least none they were willing to share. 

There was a rumor one of the foreign Aurors had been spotted in the library before speaking to Abbott, but as the source seemed to be some young Hufflepuffs, not many thought it held any stock. There had been an Auror in Hogwarts – more people could confirm that. The same Auror had also apparently taunted Pince, though that was even more bizarre.

That part of the rumor drowned out the one where the Auror had spoken to Abbott, but Pansy couldn’t ignore that, thinking of the pieces she did have. As Hopkins had apparently left with these foreign Aurors before…maybe it was more likely than people thought.

Maybe the expulsion was more severe… Yet if that was the case, shouldn’t they be speaking to her? He had to have been expelled. There wasn’t another reason for it. But then why pull all his friends into it? Draco?

Her father wasn’t able to pull any information from Draco’s. It seemed Lucius Malfoy was playing things very close to his chest after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. 

Pansy fretted and worried, wanting nothing more than to find out what was happening to Draco.

There was a brief moment of panic when the wards fell once more and the students outside in the snow reported seeing a skeletal figure that more resembled an Inferi than a human being. The figure had felt like a Dementor, only it hadn’t looked like one.

And then it had vanished, though no one could quite agree how. Only they had seen someone appear in front of it before disappearing in a blur of black robes. The only sign anything had even happened were the broken wards, the melted snow and dead grass, and the terrified students who had been there.

The wards were gone, although the professors promised they would be up soon again. They did not have any answers for what had happened. Neither did the Ministry beyond empty promises that they would investigate.

It went to show that Hopkins had zero hand in what had happened with the Dementors last time. He had simply taken advantage of it to shine.

It was only a shame Draco had missed it.

There was no news until February when Draco and everyone else reappeared without a word. They refused to give any explanations beyond that news would soon be released. Even the professors said the same, even if some of them had rather constipated expressions on relaying this information.

Pansy didn’t have to wait long, the Prophet blaring the news the following day that Hopkins’s parents were alive and well, having apparently gone into hiding directly before the attack by the Dark Lord, so they had narrowly avoided being killed.

…They were alive? They had been alive all this time? And Hopkins had created such a big fuss about them being dead when he knew full well they’d been alive? He had let Draco blame himself? He had let the entire school go on believing that?

Draco still offered no answers beyond confirming the news was true. The same went for Hopkins’s other lackeys. It was clear Hopkins would be returning. The only question was when. 

So he’d never been expelled, Pansy thought sourly. The foreign Aurors had probably been in cahoots about what had happened to his parents. She still didn’t see where Draco came into the picture but at least the puzzle fit together a little better now.

The following day’s Prophet had a little more information, including a new picture of the happy family and a small interview with quotes by all three of them. Hopkins’s was perfect as always.

The entire school seemed to be ecstatic over the news. No one seemed to realize what this actually meant. No one seemed to understand that Hopkins had been fooling all of them and milking it for sympathy points. That he wasn’t the hero he wanted to paint himself as. 

It was pathetic.

Theodore said nothing when Pansy complained about it. Neither did Millicent except to point out that perhaps Hopkins hadn’t known until recently. 

How could he not have? His parents had fled before the Dark Lord attacked, meaning it was premeditated. They’d expected it.

Instead he had put on a flawless act of the miserable survivor, soldiering on because he had to, letting Draco think it was his own fault for what had happened.

At least he had made it clear he wasn’t interested in Draco. Maybe Draco would understand how awful he was.

Only he didn’t. Only he had apparently been snogging Hopkins. Snogging him outside the Slytherin Common Room!

Pansy couldn’t stop thinking about overhearing the third years talk about how that had been Draco Malfoy kissing someone by a torch and it had looked like Hopkins. She couldn’t stop thinking about properly confronting Draco about it and Draco basically confirming it was true.

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was another false alarm.

But the infernal bet the Weasel twins had started years ago was called the next day. It was called and the news about Hopkins and Draco finally having gotten their acts together was all over Hogwarts.

She couldn’t stop looking over to where Hopkins and Draco were sitting together at the Hufflepuff table. She couldn’t stop seeing how Draco would watch Hopkins with literal stars in his eyes, lovestruck smiles, and how Hopkins… Hopkins seemed indifferent.

He was absolutely indifferent. The small smiles he gave Draco seemed smugly self-satisfied. He knew exactly what he had done with bringing Draco back into the fold and with finally telling him yes. 

It was maddening how no one else could see it.

Tracey sighed about how nice it was to see the two of them happy together. Hopkins kept doing small things for Malfoy and making sure he was taken care of. She wanted to find someone like that, too.

Millicent agreed as well and said it was nice that Draco was no longer moping around. Wasn’t Hopkins sweet with how shy he was about showing affection? She’d seen them holding hands a few times but he was always so discreet and considerate about making sure Malfoy was comfortable.

Daphne had nothing to say beyond some small smiles and nods of agreement. When asked for more information as she was also in the study group now, she would just say they seemed happy but they kept things to themselves. She wasn’t going to give them any juicy gossip. They should ask Hopkins or Draco for that information if they dared. 

Pansy listened to this all in disbelief. They were so blind to what it all meant.

Blind to the fact that Hopkins was playing Draco and that he would throw him aside the moment he got what he wanted. 

He certainly was getting something judging from how dazed Draco sometimes looked in the mornings. It was mortifying seeing that faraway expression and how it took him seconds too long to respond to questions from the younger years. Pansy wasn’t even a prefect able to catch them in the act, and Daphne certainly wasn’t going to. 

But she had to do something.

Theodore cautioned her, reminding her of what Potter had apparently said about what Hopkins had done on the Astronomy Tower as well as what had happened with the Dementors. He wasn’t a wizard to be trifled with.

It was ridiculous. Those were just rumors.

They were rumors and Pansy held no stock in rumors like that. Shouldn’t Theodore know better? Knowing exactly what they themselves did to manipulate people like that?

(She remembered feeling like prey before a predator, but that was idiotic. She had clearly been mistaken.)

Pansy was going to rip off that mask of Hopkins’s one way or the other and expose him. And Draco would finally see him for what he was.

But then she was choking on acid, choking on poison, unable to breathe, and a frog dropped to the floor in front of her. She was surrounded by jeers, surrounded by laughter, by Hopkins’s mocking face and him casually saying she was going to regret it.

Snape spoke to her, saying, “You should be careful of messing with forces beyond your control, Ms. Parkinson.” His eyes were too knowing, like he knew exactly what had happened to her and who was responsible, but he refused to agree to her declaration that it had been Hopkins, merely saying that it was a baseless accusation.

She coughed up several more frogs in the Common Room, each one brightly colored, though it seemed the green became lighter and lighter with every frog that hit the floor. Every time she tried to say something to Draco, tried to say that he was selling his body for absolutely nothing, she couldn’t breathe, choking on another bloody frog.

No one in the Common Room approached her. Even Theodore was wary of what could possibly happen. They whispered and stared and shied away.

But she knew. She knew it had been Hopkins. She knew he was the one responsible. And she could ruin him with this. He wouldn’t dare kill her, not with all eyes on him.

But he practically laughed in her face, daring her to do so because it wasn’t Dark Magic. He didn’t care. He looked like he considered her to be lower than dirt, not even worth his time and consideration.

Until suddenly there was something else on his face, something she’d never seen before, and his grip was impossible to remove. It was a weight on her shoulders and a glint in his eyes, something silvery and too-bright, that she had never seen.

He wasn’t human. He wasn’t human and she could prove it. She could call his bluff that Draco knew.

“So?” Draco said when she told him.

“He’ll kill you when he’s bored of you,” Pansy said desperately.

Draco’s lips twitched for an instant before he smiled. “What a ridiculous sentiment,” he said. “Wayne doesn’t get bored. And even if he did, I’d be more worried about the books.”

“Do you think he’ll let you go if you want to leave?” Pansy demanded. “Creatures like that – they don’t let you go. They’d kill you.”

There was no amusement now, just something much softer that Pansy hadn’t expected, only it vanished an instant later to be replaced by something much harder. “The last person I have to fear is Wayne Hopkins. And if you knew any better, you’d understand that as well. Give it up, Pansy. There’s nothing you can tell me about him that I don’t already know. Even if there was, it wouldn’t matter. I trust him with my life. I have already.”

“Draco—”

“No. This…” Draco sighed, and there was nothing but pity now. “Pansy. Please…move on. Whatever you were hoping for…it was never going to happen. It never can. You were once a friend. I don’t wish you ill, but don’t test your fate any further.”

He didn’t take her hand like he once would have. He didn’t bid her goodbye with a warm smile like he once would have. No, he simply looked at her for a long moment with those gray eyes and left her sitting there.

Alone.

[thenerdykneazle]

A Win

Summary: Sebastian has a creative interpretation of who won your last duel.

A few lines in reference to S1 E12 of Community.

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Word count: 2767

Warnings: Mature content (not super explicit but definitely sexual), 7th year, aged-up characters

Seventh year was gruelling. There was easily twice as much homework as sixth year. Every class was overly complicated and utterly confusing. You lived in constant fear of NEWTs that loomed over the end of the year. You rarely even got time for adventuring or kicking dark wizards’ arses. Your one saving grace was Crossed Wands. You duelled every single week. This month, you and Sebastian had been facing off one-on-one. He had won the second duel, but you won the first and the third. The two of you would get very intense, and it seemed like half the school would come to watch.

Your fourth match was particularly rousing. You had each landed spells that had you feeling rough. Sebastian hit you square-on with a blasting curse. You had banished him into one of the stone walls before slicing his arm with a severing charm he couldn’t quite roll out of the way of in time. There were several basic casts that had various parts of your bodies stinging. Finally, as Sebastian dodged an exploding charm, you caught him with a summoning charm. It hit him on the ankle and dragged him feet-first toward you. From the shock of it, you held onto the charm a bit too long and Sebastian slid into you just as you disarmed him. The impact knocked you on top of him, though you caught yourself enough to keep from headbutting his face.

You had still ended up lying on top of him, though. You held your torso up with one hand on the ground and the other on his chest. He had let out a grunt when you landed, as your hand slamming his chest knocked the wind out of him.

He gave you a crooked smile as your cheeks flamed red. “So, how’s your Sunday going?” he asked.

You chuckled as you pushed yourself to your feet. He was sad to have you leave him so soon. He so rarely got to be close to you lately. He missed being huddled next to you as you sneaked into the restricted section or up to an Ashwinder camp.

You reached a hand down to help Sebastian up, which he gladly took.

Lucan declared you the winner of the duel since you had disarmed and pinned Sebastian. “That was brilliant!” he said. The fifth-year looked up at your with stars in his eyes.

“Thanks, Lucan,” you replied with a smile.

“Maybe you could help me with the banishing charm sometime?” he asked hopefully.

You gave him an amused smile. “Sure thing! After I get patched up, though, okay?”

He gave you an enthusiastic nod before trotting off to his friends.

You and Sebastian limped off toward the Undercroft after talking with your friends and other classmates about the duel. “We’re 2 and 2 now,” Sebastian said as you entered the secret room.

You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. “I think you need to check your maths on that one, Sallow,” you said.

He smirked at you like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t think so,” he replied. He leaned in so close to you that his lips were nearly brushing your ear. “Anytime you’re on top of me, it’s a win.”

His warm breath fanned over your neck, sending a shiver through you. You could feel your whole face go red. Sebastian was often a shameless flirt, and you knew it was because he loved getting a reaction out of you. He pulled his head back to observe if his words had the desired effect. He smirked as he observed your flushed cheeks.

“Do, erm, do you have a, uh, wiggenweld? I forgot to grab some before the duel,” you said, stammering as you tried to recollect your thoughts.

“Of course, I do,” he said with a grin. “Unlike you, apparently, I came prepared.” He produced two bottles of the green liquid from his robe pocket. He handed you one of them. He held his up for you to cheers. You clinked the bottles together before downing the potions.

You sighed in relief as the aches faded from your body. “Thank you. That’s much better,” you said.

He looked down at you with a worried expression. “I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the one who went flying into the wall and got dragged across the floor. I should probably be asking you that,” you replied.

“I just want to be sure you’re okay,” he said sincerely.

You couldn’t help but melt a bit at the way he fretted over you. The worried look in his big, brown eyes always softened you up immediately. The way he was still standing so close to you made your knees feel like you were recovering from a jelly-legs jinx. Sebastian’s hands came to rest on your waist as he continued to stare down at you. You could see every freckle on his face in perfect detail from the proximity. Your eyes lingered for a moment on his lips. They looked soft and inviting. Sebastian noticed your gaze, and it made his breath hitch. His teeth sank into his lower lip as he looked down at you with half-lidded eyes.

“I also really want to kiss you,” he admitted.

You slapped him on the arm. “Stop joking around,” you said, rolling your eyes again. You tried to step out of his grasp, but his grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you back toward him. He brought you even closer than you had been, and you gasped a bit as your body was pulled flush against his, knocking roughly into him. You looked back up at him with a questioning expression. He liked to rile you up, but he didn’t usually hold you captive.

“I’m not joking,” he said in a husky voice. His face was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath hit your cheeks as he spoke. He brushed a stray lock of your hair back off your cheek, letting his hand come to rest on the smooth skin.

You were certain he could feel your heart pounding in your chest as it was pressed against his. You had half a mind to close the precious few centimetres between your mouths yourself, but you were still fairly certain he would pull away laughing any second now. The thought kept you from leaning into the comforting warmth of his hand on your cheek.

You just continued to stare up at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place. Your hands hung limp at your sides. It was certainly not the reaction Sebastian had expected, and he began to panic. “Merlin, I…I thought you felt the same,” he said apologetically. “I’ve misread your kindness as something more. I’m truly sorry.”

The brushes of your hand against his. The stolen glances. The lingering hugs. He had not misread any of it. He was quite right about your feelings toward him. You snapped out of your daze as he began to pull away from you with his gaze lowered to the floor. Your hand bolted up to pull his back to your cheek.

His eyes met yours again as he gave you the questioning look this time.

“Ask me,” you whispered as you stroked your thumb over the back of his hand.

His confusion deepened for a moment before his eyebrows raised in realization. His tongue ran over his lips, leaving behind an enticing sheen on the pink skin. His gaze was intense when you met his eyes once again. It was as if he could see into your mind – or perhaps your heart. His voice was gruff when he spoke up. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you breathed out.

He leaned in slowly, using his hand still on your cheek to guide you to him as well. His lips met yours in a soft embrace, and you could neither anticipate nor prevent the small whine that left your throat. Hearing the needy noise escape your lips sent his blood rushing south. He felt feral, and he could only barely resist ravaging you right then. He had wanted this for so long. He could hardly believe it was finally happening.

His kisses turned hard and desperate as he moaned against your lips. His grip on your hip was bruising as he backed you up against one of the stone walls of the Undercroft. You clung to his back to keep yourself steady as he walked you backwards. The cold wall on your back was a stark contrast to the heat radiating off the man pressed against you.

The kiss was dizzying, though that could have been from how long it had been since you had taken a breath. Sebastian broke the kiss to focus his attention on your jaw. You gasped the cool air of the underground room into your lungs. He continued to trail to kisses along your jaw and then down the side of your neck, nuzzling into your silky skin as he went. He found a particularly sensitive spot above your collar bone, having tugged your shirt out of his way, and you let out an unhindered moan at the pleasure his lips were giving you.

He moaned back at you as he ground his hips into yours. His hands had begun roaming over your body, running up and down your arms and over your back and hips. “Merlin, you sound obscene, love,” he rasped. “It’s quite sexy.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I could tell,” you quipped before bucking your hips up against his, pressing your core to his very obvious erection.

He whimpered at the friction. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” he warned, sliding his hands down over your arse and pulling you tighter against him.

You gasped as his length pressed harder against you.

Sebastian quickly pulled back to look at you. “Are you all right? Did…did I hurt you?” he asked nervously. Despite all the dangerous places he had dragged you, he was always concerned about hurting you. It was a bit ironic, though you still found it sweet.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, bringing a hand to his cheek to sooth him. “It felt, um, quite good, actually.” The burning heat of embarrassment had returned to your cheeks.

Sebastian smiled meekly. “I like making you feel good,” he said, stepping closer to you again. He wrapped his arms around you and held you against him. “I never want to hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sebastian. Really,” you insisted.

Sebastian stared down at the floor as he spoke. “I did, though…” he said. “I–Not just now, but…in the Scriptorium.” He glanced at you as if begging you not to make him elaborate further.

“Sebastian,” you said softly. “That was years ago. And we were in dire circumstances. I’ve never held that against you. You even offered to take the curse yourself, but you know Ominis and I didn’t want to cast it.”

He nodded but didn’t reply. A few tears had started slipping down his cheeks.

“Oh, Seb,” you said, doing your best to wipe them away. They had started falling more quickly.

“I’m still so sorry,” he said in a broken voice before clinging to you tightly. You embraced him just as tightly in return. “I caused you so much pain, and I don’t deserve your friendship, let alone your affections.”

“Even if you believe that, surely you can see that you’re not the same person you were two years ago,” you said. You rubbed your hand up and down his back in an attempt to sooth him. He only sobbed harder, though.

He held onto you like his life depended on it. His grip was on the verge of making it difficult to breathe, but you wouldn’t dare complain. Sebastian had buried his face in the side of your neck, repeatedly muttering apologies into your skin. You assured him that he was forgiven.

After a few minutes, he settled down. He pulled back just enough to wipe his face with his robe sleeves. “I’m sorry for sobbing like a child,” he said as he dried your neck with his sleeve as well. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye, focusing on where he kept dabbing his sleeve to your now-dry neck instead.

You held his face in both of your hands and gently turned it towards you. He finally looked at you, and you could see the sadness in his deep brown eyes. “You are my most loyal friend, and you have done far more for me than would’ve been necessary to make up for whatever pain you caused in the past. I’m grateful for every day I have you in my life, because you make it better. I don’t hold the Scriptorium against you, nor do I judge you for caring about it now. The very fact that you’re so bothered by the pain you caused proves you’re a different man now. There’s no need to apologize for that.”

Sebastian pulled you back into a kiss. It was just as desperate as you had left off, though it was a different kind of desperation now. It was a kind that begged you never to leave him. You slid your hands from his cheeks to tangle in his hair. The feeling of his soft lips pressed hard against yours made you wonder how you’d gone so long without it. “I love you,” he breathed between urgent kisses.

The words made a hot desire spread through your body. Your hands gripped him more frantically, pulling at his robes and hair to bring him any bit closer to you that you could. “I love you, too,” you said, breaking the kiss only just long enough to get the words out before diving back in. You trapped his lower lip between your teeth, tugging it forward gently.

Sebastian let out a moan at the feeling. He had you pinned against the wall with his body as he kissed you deeper still, sliding his tongue past your lips to lick into your mouth. His leg was pressed firmly between yours, furthering your arousal. You were both moaning messes as your tongues met and your hands groped over each other, grasping everywhere you could reach.

You were so lost in each other that the rest of the world had ceased to exist in your minds. As such, the sound of the gate rattling open had you jumping out of your skin as fear prickled up your spine. Sebastian had leapt off of you, spinning around to face the entrance. He had whipped his wand out before he recalled where he was and the fact that there could only be one person entering the space.

“Good evening,” Ominis said casually as he strode into the Undercroft. He could hear you and Sebastian panting to catch your breath, though that wasn’t exactly surprising. “Did Sebastian challenge you to a rematch already?”

The amusement was clear in Ominis’s voice.

“What?” you asked, still feeling dazed.

Ominis furrowed his brow. He stood facing you, but he was still standing on the other side of the room. “Were you not…What are you doing down here?”

“We were snogging,” Sebastian stated, drawing out the ‘s’ as he panicked in vain to find a different word.

You sent a death glare toward him.

He shrugged. “I couldn’t think of another word,” he whispered to you.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Idiot,” you grumbled. “He meant that we were snog…ging.”

Sebastian gave you a smug look.

“You’re right. It is hard to think of another word,” you admitted.

Ominis shook his head at the both of you. “Well, if you two are quite finished, we’re supposed to work at the greenhouses together this afternoon.”

“Right. Sorry, Ominis, I totally forgot about that!” you said.

“I wonder why,” he said sarcastically. “But I’m glad you morons finally admitted your feelings for each other. You’ve no idea how painful it was waiting for either of you to come to your senses.”

You were too embarrassed to sass him back for calling you a moron. Ominis turned to leave the Undercroft, and you and Sebastian followed behind. Sebastian caught your hand and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet.”

“Please try to behave until I don’t have to listen to you, Sebastian,” Ominis said in an exasperated tone, making the two of you blush. Sebastian still winked at you before pulling you along toward the greenhouses.

[scoundrels-in-love]

We'll brave out this storm together (Touch one another, Do what lovers do)

It's a beautiful morning, Wolfwood would call it perfect even, if not for the way his lungs constrict and the desperation tinging Meryl's kisses.

In honor of Trigun Bookclub reading vol. 10 this week, here's a little window into an alternate path, inspired by this fantastic art by @carnivalfair

| Stryfewood | Mashwood | Explicit | On AO3 | Stampede infused Post-Trimax | Oral sex (Male receiving) | Porn with Feelings | Health issue flare ups | Nightmares | Emotional Hurt/Comfort |

Wolfwood pauses on the stair curve of the seventh floor, leaning against the windowsill of the tiny, dusty window that gives a view of the narrow alley between two apartment buildings. The early morning light etches across the walls and windows, turns the colors warm and where it doesn't reach yet sinks into forgiving shadows. 

But it is not the gentler wash of urban view that has him stopping. He breathes slowly and deeply, counts to four with every inhale through his nose and to eight with exhales through his mouth. When the steel bars around his chest do not loosen, he bends over and continues the rhythmic breathing until it feels like his lungs can expand in earnest. There is a lingering ache still, but that's nothing he's likely to pay attention to.

Maybe Meryl is right and he ought to cut back on smoking if climbing to the eleventh floor gets him so winded. 

But he knows it's hardly the only thing that has felt off-kilter and too much lately. The casual dizziness that accompanies him through the day and the heaviness that weighs his limbs down, makes him sluggish, is hardly smoker lung related. Neither is the headache that seems to be a near constant pressure for the past week, trickling behind his eyes and down the back of his neck. Hell, even his fingers feel stiff and ache at times.

He's trying very hard not to think too much about it and trying even harder to show any of this as little as possible to his partners so they'd not start to fret and dump everything just to haul him to Ship Three for another series of extensive tests. The thought of the bright lights and white, non-descriptive walls crowding him all over again makes his stomach churn.

Determined to put all this aside, Wolfwood gives one last long exhale, stretches and rolls his neck, before picking up the grocery bag he had left on the floor and beginning the rest of his climb up to the apartment. The apartment he shares with Meryl and Vash, that he has his own key to. (On the keychain hang two little charms he's carved - a red feather and vivid blue photo camera, as a reminder who he is always coming home to.) Six months and the novelty of it all has not worn off even slightly. He's not sure it ever will, even when they find a bigger place that will more easily fit the three of them and become their new home. 

He unlocks the door quietly, his mind already on the breakfast he's going to cook, hopefully before Meryl wakes up and Vash returns from his morning run. It's a weekend that they've got Meryl to actually take off and she deserves to sleep in for once and wake to breakfast in bed. The thought of her surprised, delighted face alone makes most of his physical discomfort fade into background noise.

The bubble pops softly at Meryl's voice calling "Vash?" from the living room as he closes the door behind him and toes off his shoes. There is something in her voice, an echo of a crack, that slips tiny hooks of unease into his skin. 

"It's me," he calls back, not bothering to put his loafers on the shoe rack or leaving the shopping bag somewhere it'd not be a tripping hazard, and takes a few large strides toward the living room, slowing when he's through the doorway to assess the situation. 

Meryl is standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide and suspiciously red rimmed as they bore into him. He barely has time to register that she has pulled on his shirt over her sleepwear, fingers clutching at the fabric across her chest before she's dashing across the small distance remaining, which is a feat considering that noticing things is drilled into his bones with the sharp edge of a knife that's been the difference between dying and surviving.

She practically crashes into him, pressing her face into his chest for a second as his arms come to wrap around her, and then she's reaching up, hands on his jaw, stroking across his stubble and pulling him down, toward her. Wolfwood goes willingly, eagerly, and sinks into her kiss. Her lips are dry and raw in spots where she's chewed them and Meryl wastes no time biting his, too. He groans and her tongue sweeps into his mouth immediately as if she's trying to catch an aftertaste of the sound. 

Her hands sink into his hair, tangling in there and tugging in a way that has heat flaring through his veins. She is relentless in her kisses, too, and it is melting his brain into a happy little puddle, rapidly. It takes considerable self-restraint to pull away (or self inflicted torture, which would explain the success as he's always been good at that), especially with the desperate little whine Meryl makes as she tiptoes, trying to chase his mouth.

"Amor, not that I don't appreciate the warm welcome, but everythin' okay?" he asks, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, a softer kind of warmth filling his chest when she leans into the touch as it turns into cupping her cheek, eyes fluttering half shut, but her gaze is still so very focused on his face. 

"Woke up and you were gone. Missed you. Can't we talk later? I want you, Nico." She takes his hand away from her face, presses a fleeting kiss to his palm, before splaying it across her chest as if her message wasn't clear enough. 

He regards Meryl for a moment, weighing the seriousness of the shadows still lingering in her eyes. But he knows her, knows that she is stubborn and unlikely to change her mind about the order she wants things in, unless he applies an equal measure of dogged determination. And he doesn't think he's got that in him right now, especially when he really would love to expend that energy differently.

So he cups her breast, thumbs across her nipple and grins as she arches into his touch, already reaching for him. They meet in another hungry kiss, Meryl clinging to his shoulders briefly before fisting her right hand into his hair again while the left runs across his chest in unfocused caresses, before starting to work away at his buttons. Wolfwood brushes open his shirt she's wearing, so there's one less layer between them, pinches her pebbling nipple and swallows her moan greedily. 

But then he moves his hands to circle her waist, steadying them both, as he slows his mouth, focused on meeting her strange, frenzied energy with something more intentional. Wolfwood doesn't know what's got her in such a hurry, but he thinks he'd rather they both take their time, even if it takes some willpower as she makes a frustrated noise and bites at his lip, trying to press closer still and scrapes her nails across his chest, catching on his nipple, making him shiver.

Instead of picking up the pace of undressing, he carefully walks them towards the sofa because he is ready to gladly lose hours just enjoying her mouth and body pressed close to his, but the way the room gently spins around them is hardly desire induced and he'd rather not scare Meryl by showing it on accident by tripping or something.

His mouth remains almost languid on hers and Wolfwood feels some of the excessive, tense energy slowly melt out of Meryl as they sink onto the couch. Still, she wastes no time climbing in his lap, pushing him against the backrest so she can press onto him from above, licking into his mouth. He lets one of his hands slide lower in a heavy caress over her ass, before settling there. It earns him a pleased little sound from her and her hand returning to his chest, fondling and kneading his pec slowly.

Time melts away as they trade kisses and touches, Meryl seemingly determined to meticulously map every inch of him she can reach. Her mouth eventually leaves his to trail kisses over his cheek and jaw, down his throat where she stays, sucking on his pulse point. With a groan, he tilts his head back to give her better access and she hums approvingly, scrapes her teeth across his skin.

She continues lavishing his throat with bites and kisses as he slips a hand beneath her sleep shirt, enjoying the way she shivers as he caresses his way slowly across her stomach before cupping her breast. It fills his palm perfectly and he squeezes lightly.

Suddenly, Meryl pulls away, a furrow between her brows as she assesses him. He is briefly taken by the view, how red and well kissed her pretty mouth is, the vivid blue of her eyes all but swallowed by her pupils. How focused she is. On him, of all the people. Sometimes it still takes him by surprise - that he wants and is so very wanted in return.

"Lay down," she tells him, apparently having come to a decision about what she wants next.

"So bossy and ya haven't even had coffee yet," he chuckles, but shifts his grip on her and moves to do as told, bringing Meryl with him. Instead of responding to his teasing verbally as Wolfwood expects, she leans in for another kiss, grinding down onto him in the process. He moans against her mouth, thrusts up into her. Maybe taking it slow isn't necessary. Maybe he'll spontaneously combust if they do.

She straightens back up, continuing to roll her hips against his in a rhythm that has him groaning and digging fingers into her waist. "Fuck, gatinha, gonna ride me like this?" He pants, voice hoarse. There's too many clothes on them still, but maybe she could keep his shirt on-

"Would you like that?" Meryl asks, accentuating the last word with another grinding motion that has her gasping, too, as she throws her head back. She must be so wet already, he wants to feel her so badly. 

"Jesus. Yes." Wolfwood moves to tug at her sleep shorts, because these layers need to go, but she pushes his hands away. 

"Not yet," she tells him and yeah, he definitely has regrets about setting the slower pace now. "Want to feel you."

He smirks, knowingly flashing his sharp teeth that she is quite fond of as he arches his hips off the sofa. "Got a few ideas for that."

But she only shakes her head: "Let me have this."

There is something determined and simmering beneath her surface that he can't quite pinpoint that makes it hard for him to tease her or even try to say no. And in truth, Wolfwood wants to give her anything and everything, relishing in the fact that he can, that he has something to give, even if it's only him and his obedience that doesn't come from fear. 

"Anythin' ya want, gatinha," he promises.

She smiles and then shifts forward for better reach to the few remaining buttons of his shirt, undoing them swiftly. She pushes the garment open, but not off his shoulders entirely, splaying fingers on his chest and just staring down at him with hooded eyes. There is something in the curl of her mouth, the way she is looking at him that ties another knot of vague worry in his stomach. Needing to bring her back to this moment, to him, from whatever shadowy place her thoughts have taken her, he sits up and kisses Meryl, cupping her face.

She melts into him immediately with a whimper and he takes his time drawing out more delightful sounds from her as he shifts to kissing her jaw, biting just beneath her ear and sucking new bruises onto the pale column of her throat.

He pushes his shirt off of her, tosses it to the side, pausing only for a split second to take in the debauched view before him. Meryl's hair is a mess, one of the tank top straps slipping off her shoulders and her nipples are pressing through the worn fabric. He leans down and sucks one into his mouth, scrapes his teeth across it for a ghost of pressure. She moans and presses closer to his mouth, hands gripping his hair. 

Wolfwood ignores her protest when he pulls away just so, dragging his mouth to her other breast to suck and bite at it as well. He didn't think himself a sappy man before he met Vash and Meryl, but every little noise she makes is music to his ears and he can never have enough. And oh, she's eager to play symphonies for him.

He worries a bruise into the tender skin atop her breast, right on the edge of her shirt's cleavage, but now that he's used it for the strategic placement reference, he wants it gone. Wolfwood's fingers grip the edge of the tank top but she pushes at his chest with increasing insistence and with a sigh, he lays back down.

He doesn't have time to remain put out at not getting it off her as Meryl latches onto his chest with enthusiasm equal to his. Her mouth, her fingers have him squirming and moaning her name. At one point she tugs on his cross necklace, wraps it around her finger and pulls him in for a kiss while she twists his nipple and the combination of it all goes to his groin like lightning, making his whole body jump. The way her eyes crinkle with satisfaction as she slams him back down is something for his personal history books.

She kisses her way across his chest, lingering over his heart for a moment, and then lower still, as her fingers work on getting his jeans open and pushed down his thighs. He helps her to the best of his ability, lifting his hips and wiggling a little because he's taken to wearing tight pants lately, if only for the way his partners unabashedly stare at his ass when he's leaving the room.

Finally, her mouth is at his navel just above the edge of his boxers, and he's burning with anticipation. Meryl shifts to settle more comfortably between his legs, hands on his hips and then presses kiss to his still clothed member. Wolfwood hisses, trying not to buck into the contact as she repeats it, mouthing at the wet spot from his pre-cum. It'd be embarrassing to come like this, but he wouldn't put it on the list of impossible things at this rate.

Thankfully, Meryl takes mercy on him and pulls his underwear down, too. He sighs with relief, but it quickly transforms into a drawn out moan as she presses a kiss to the slit of his cock before applying a feather light lick to it. She moves to lick up at the underside of it, following the vein, as her hand comes to circle him lightly at the base. 

When she reaches the tip again, she shoots him a quick smile, before taking it in her mouth. With a groan, he closes his eyes shut and throws arm behind him, seeking some kind of purchase as she begins to slowly stroke up and down, taking him deeper into the wonderful, wet heat of her mouth at the same time.

Meryl takes her time with all the patience that had been missing previously. Her movements are meticulous - enough pressure and speed to melt his bones, but not enough to bring him all the way to the crest of pleasure. Her tongue swirls around the tip every couple strokes, just as her grip tightens a little.

He cracks his eyes open briefly, lifting his head a little to have a better view of her. She isn't trying for a sultry look right now, he knows, but her eyes are half lidded, fanned shadows of eyelashes across her cheeks in the morning light, and the feeling in them alone could steal the air out of his lungs. Her cheeks hollow as she moves on his length, stroking what she can't take in her mouth. 

It's too much, the way she is looking at him like she is trying to unravel not just his pleasure, but him as a whole, and savor, memorize every thread that makes him him, and Wolfwood slams his head back down. He shuts his eyes and gives in to the sensations, the steady pleasure she's drawing out of him, gives his moans and gasps and whimpers of her name in return. 

Time and space melts into something hot, unidentifiable and unmeasurable, and is poured into his veins, beating like the pulse of his heart where they're touching. Meryl's left hand comes to hold his and he's thankful for the anchor, while her mouth is trying to unspool his reality.

Gradually, she begins to increase the tempo and build a bridge across the last gap to his release. "Meryl, I'm- I'm so close," he has half a mind to warn, but she only hums encouragingly and presses down even further, her lips meeting her fingers at the base of his cock. His hand grips hers tightly as he reroutes all his energy there, to not fuck into her throat further, to hold on for a second more, but then he's coming with a shout of God or maybe her name. Not much of a difference, really.

She strokes him through his orgasm, an all consuming sensation that seems to last infinite drops of the white-hot time in his blood, eagerly swallowing all he gives her. When he is fully spent, breathless and still trembling, Meryl releases him and crawls up his body, presses close to his chest and kisses him. It's sweet and tender despite his own taste on her tongue as it tangled with his.

Wolfwood eventually breaks away to draw a few deep gulps of air because his chest feels tight again and his breath refuses to even out, but he hopes Meryl will attribute it to their activities. Besides, he definitely doesn't plan to let it stop him from turning her into a whimpering mess, sprawled beneath him. 

With that enticing image in mind, he brings his hands down from where they're wrapped over her shoulder blades, to tug at her shorts again. Instead of helping him, Meryl's hand grips his wrist gently: "You don't have to."

He immediately stops, drawing eyebrows together in concern. Her gaze skids to the side, away from him, and then she ducks her face into the crook of his neck.

Her breath is hot across his skin as she quietly says: "I'm okay. I just wanted to feel you."

There's that phrase again. 

"Coulda felt me a lot more if ya weren't so determined to suck my brain out through my dick, meu amor. But give me five and a few pretty noises and we can fix that," he says, nuzzling into her hair as he brings his arms around her to hold her properly. 

It's a line that in most circumstances would have her slapping his chest, calling his name in her most admonishing tone, at the very least. This time, he only gets silence. And that's when he knows for sure that whatever had her so uneasy earlier hasn't receded even after she got her pretty little way.

"Meryl?" He says softly, the lingering desire that he had intended to stoke back to a full pyre as he sunk between her legs quickly fading and in its place blooms worry and a need to make sure she's okay.

She still says nothing, only burrows into him deeper, nails digging into his shoulder. 

"Yer always reminding me 'n Vash we gotta speak, say what's wrong. C'mon, practice what ya preach, amor. Ya promised me we’d talk later."

He feels her deep inhale, pause and the shuddering exhale with his whole body. Gives her a gentle squeeze, let's her take her time without urging her more.

"I've been trying to not pay attention to the calendar lately," she finally says after a quiet minute, and he thinks that's a futile thing for someone in her line of work, "but I keep thinking how it'll be a year to that day next week."

Wolfwood's body stiffens and goes still as he makes the connection. That day. With a different couch far from here, with blood in his mouth as the last taste of life he thought he'd have, overpowering even the sting of Bride. He hopes Meryl can't feel the way his heart is suddenly hammering against his ribcage, as if the memories alone have brought the ghost of death to his neck again. 

"And I know you haven't been feeling well and I just had this horrible nightmare of that day, that Vash couldn't pause the damage spreading till he got you to help." Her voice is trembling and soft and he wills his limbs to move, run comforting touches up and down her back.

He doesn't remember it, has only heard stories from mostly third parties of the frenzied way Vash had poured his energy and blood into him, how they had rushed to Ship Three after, and those weeks, months that had followed when he'd made home on the threshold between alive and dead. How Vash had left to fight his brother not knowing if there was even a sliver of genuine chance that there'd be a true reunion after. It's something that is still too raw to be discussed between the three of them. And why should they, he'd thought, when there were much better things to talk about?

Maybe he had been right or maybe their silence had let this ghoul manifest into their apartment, rotting and waiting for the chance to strike.

"But then you were suddenly here, I don’t know, it's a dream after all-” she takes a deep breath, “I just knew it was now. You were laughing in the kitchen one moment and then on the floor the next, blood dripping from your mouth and I tried to shake you, but you were so, so cold. As if you had been dead all along. And when I woke up, you weren't here. Vash wasn't here. I just-"

She makes a wet, choked sound, and his heart constricts in a way that sends rippling discomfort in his stomach.

"I'm here, Meryl," he says and hates that his voice sounds so hoarse, the way the room is spinning and the walls are pressing in on them. He wants to swear he's fine, but he feels genuinely sick at this moment and he doesn't want to lie. So he just repeats I'm here again and again, pressing kisses to her hair and then her face as she cries and maybe he does, too.

Eventually the tears cease and so does the sensation that he's somehow both falling down and spinning while also firmly locked in place, as if his brain and body exist in some fucked up paralels. Meryl clings to him still and he is not any more willing to part from her. He only releases her for the minute it takes to partially fix his clothing and get them both shifted a little more comfortably on the sofa. 

She lays her head on his chest now and he's glad the heartbeat she's listening to is even now. It lulls her to sleep first and though he tries to stay awake, keep watch, his eyes are sore and heavy and the next thing he knows is Vash cussing as he trips over the shopping bag left by the door. But since Meryl doesn't stir, Wolfwood doesn't move either and just shushes their boyfriend softly when he appears in the doorway. 

Vash comes over quietly, drops a quick kiss to Wolfwood’s forehead as his fingers brush Meryl’s hair out of her face. She scrunches her nose in her sleep, before exhaling softly and stilling again. The blond takes the throw blanket from the armchair and settles over her and Wolfwood, before tiptoeing back out with exaggerated gestures that makes Wolfwood roll his eyes fondly. 

Wolfwood listens to him move around the apartment - most of the noise comes from the shopping bag crinkling, the fridge door creaking as it opens. But then Vash returns, settling down on the floor beside the couch and resting his head against Wolfwood’s arm and Wolfwood feels some kind of tension well and truly starts to drain out of him as they share this silent, peaceful moment. 

There will be conversations to be had later and perhaps he will have to brave the sterile, sickening environment of medical rooms on Ship Three again to make sure his body is not relapsing in earnest, but the thought of it feels a degree less unbearable with his two loves by his side. He has paid higher prices for far less and he’d be a fool to not make the most of the time he’s borrowed from luck or fate or God.

[kingofsummer93]

Ex Luna Scientia

Summary:

Lucien Vanserra, seventh son of the Minister for Magic, is as loved by his peers as he is hated by his family. But behind the charm and irreverence hides a secret, as dark and menacing as the scar on his face.

Elain Archeron, middle sister in a trio of muggle-born witches, has only one wish: for someone to truly see her. Because when she sleeps at night, she can see it all.

Or- an Elucien at Hogwarts AU.

Chapter 10: The First Trial - Pt 1

Ao3 Masterlist

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. Time had a way of doing that, Elain supposed- slugging along endlessly when you wanted something to happen, and speeding by when you dreaded what was coming.

Thankfully her increasingly demanding coursework had prevented her from focusing on the trials ahead- or, if she was honest with herself, on what had happened with Lucien. Every time she remembered their kiss she was hit with a fresh wave of embarrassment. He seemed as reluctant as she was to address what had happened, and they hadn’t so much as shaded a glance in the last two weeks. No doubt he must think she was insane, or flaky at best. But how to explain what had happened?

Oh sorry, I had a horrible vision while we were kissing, and after thinking about it for a few sleepless nights I came to the conclusion that it might be a clue about our upcoming trials? Oh, and also, I think my patronus materialized as a werewolf and I have no clue what to make of that?

She’d spent the last two weeks poring through textbooks and practicing every defensive spell she could think of, all the while refusing to believe Professor Spell-Cleaver would actually let them face off with a werewolf. Surely that wouldn’t fit within their new parameters of what was deemed safe?

Surely?

But then, how else to explain what she had seen? It was either a vision or a hallucination, and she had only ever experienced one of those before.

Elain hadn’t told anybody about her suspicions, and by the time the morning of the first trial rolled around her dim unease had grown into full fledged panic. Not to mention a gut-wrenching guilt at not warning any of the other champions. She’d had enough time to come up with a plan, but would the other champions be able to think quickly enough on their feet?

After hours of deliberation she had settled on using her patronus (also a werewolf- oh god) as a diversion technique. Hopefully the real werewolf would be so distracted that she’d be able to cast a stunning spell to incapacitate it.

Hopefully.

“You should eat something,” Nuala said gently as Elain sat at breakfast in a state of rising panic.

From her other side Cerridwen pushed a plate of buttered toast towards her, and Elain bit into one wordlessly. It tasted like ash in her mouth.

A head popped out of the center of the table, and the Fat Friar appeared, a wide grin on his face. “And how is our champion this morning!”

The ghost winced a little at whatever panic must be etched on her face. “Oh dear. A little case of the nerves, it seems!”

Before she could reply (or vomit, which seemed more likely) a flash of red caught her attention. Elain dropped her toast, her mind suddenly made up. “I’ll see you in class,” she told her friends before grabbing her bookbag and hurrying out of the Great Hall.

“Don’t worry dear!” the Fat Friar called after her. “You’ll do great, I can feel it!”

Elain scanned the crowded Entrance Hall, her heart dropping as she spotted another red-haired figure next to Lucien. Vassa was someone else she’d been avoiding these last few weeks. She had almost decided to turn straight around when Vassa spotted her walking towards them and poked Lucien hard in the ribs, nodding towards Elain.

Lucien’s smile slipped a little as he spotted her, and Elain again felt that now familiar wave of guilt. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Vassa looked back and forth between them, her eyebrows raised so high they had practically disappeared into her hairline. “Well, I’m incredibly late for something very important. I will see you both later.” And with a wink at Elain and a rather stern look in Lucien’s direction she disappeared into the crowd.

Lucien looked at Elain expectantly, his hands shoved in his pockets. Right. The last time they’d been together she’d shoved him away and practically ran out of the room. She should probably be the one to start this conversation.

“Can we, um. Can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere…quiet?”

Lucien’s expression was carefully neutral, though it looked like he was fighting back an amused grin. “Oh! Sure, um.” He looked around the crowded Entrance Hall and motioned for her to follow him up the marble staircase.

Elain followed as he led them up the stairs and then into a mostly deserted hallway. He peered into an empty classroom and held open the door for her. As she brushed past him his spicy, masculine scent assaulted her senses, and the memory of his lips on hers flashed in her mind.

Focus, she chided herself. She could agonize over that later. For now they had more pressing problems.

As the door clicked shut behind Lucien, Elain took a deep breath, not letting herself second guess the wiseness of what she was doing.

“So-”

“I think I know what one of our trials is going to be.”

Lucien blinked, his russet eye widening. “Really? How?”

Elain chose to ignore that part of now. “I’m pretty sure they’re going to have us fight a werewolf.”

The silence that fell was deafening. Lucien went wholly still, as if she had just stupefied him. Even his golden eye stopped its usual soft whirring as it fixed on her.

“What did you just say?” he choked out.

“A werewolf,” Elain repeated, wringing her hands.

“What…” Lucien swallowed thickly, his chest suddenly heaving from his ragged breathing. “What could possibly make you say that?”

His voice was strange, so strained it was almost unrecognizable. Elain almost felt bad for making him panic like this, but it was better that he knew so he could be prepared.

“Um…” She hadn’t had time to fully think this through. How would she explain this? “I heard some of the teachers talking about the trial.”

A choked noise came out of Lucien, half a laugh and half a groan. “You…” he cleared his throat, breathing deeply. “You heard some of the teachers say something about a werewolf at the tournament?”

“Yes.”

“Which ones?”

Elain stepped back at his sudden anger. “Um…I don’t remember.”

“Which teachers, Elain?!”

“I don’t know! What does it matter? Why aren’t you worried about having to fight a werewolf?”

Lucien whirled towards the door, as if to make sure it was still shut. “Keep your voice down!” he hissed.

Right. They weren’t supposed to help each other with the trials. But really, you’d think he’d be more grateful that she was helping him.

“We are not…” He let out another choked laugh. “We are not facing off with werewolves during the tournament, Elain. I can guarantee you that.”

Elain tampered her irritation. It was easy for him to say. He hadn’t been living with the memory of that vision for weeks now. “What makes you say that? I told you, I heard…”

“I don’t care what you think you heard, Elain, there is no way in hell that werewolves are part of any of the trials…”

“Why not? You said yourself we might have to fight some sort of magical creature…”

“Creature!” he ground out through gritted teeth. “I said we might have to fight a magical creature, Elain! Werewolves are not creatures! They’re people! They’re humans who lose control of their humanity once a month without being able to do anything about it. They’re not dragons or…or trolls, some stupid beasts who can be chained up and dueled for sport!”

Lucien’s hands had curled into fists, his anger so palpable he was almost shaking. Elain stared at him in shock, until something clicked in her memory. The article about his father, all those people being sent to Azkaban, Lucien setting the newspapers on fire and arguing with Briallyn Skeeter. Of course this would be a sore subject for him- he was fiercely against his father’s policies, it made sense that he wouldn’t want werewolves treated as mindless creatures to be fought against.

“But I saw it…” she mumbled, more to herself than to Lucien.

“You saw it? You saw what?” he asked in alarm.

Shit. How was she going to explain this now?

“You saw a werewolf?” he prompted, his voice strained.

“No! I mean, yes. But…not really.”

“Elain,” he choked out. “Please. Tell me exactly what you know.”

He looked so wretched that Elain hesitated. She had never told anybody about her visions. But then again, she’d shared other secrets with Lucien before, and he’d kept his word, hadn’t he? At least, as far as she knew.

“Fine,” she said, sagging slightly. “I’ll tell you. Just…promise me you won’t tell anyone?”

“Trust me, Elain,” he said with a strange laugh. “I won’t be telling anyone about this.”

Elain walked towards the rows of desks and sat down, if only to give herself a few moments to think of another way out of this. Lucien sat down next to her and looked at her expectantly.

“I, um…this is going to sound very strange.”

Lucien’s expression indicated he doubted anything she had to say could get any weirder.

“I know you think Divination is a bunch of bullshit, and that Seers aren’t real, but…it’s not bullshit. And they are real.”

“Ok…” Lucien said slowly, his brows furrowed. He looked completely baffled by the turn the conversation had taken, and she couldn’t blame him. “What does that have to do with…”

“I see things,” Elain blurted, cutting him off. “When I sleep. Well, usually when I sleep, once when I was awake, but usually it’s when I sleep. That’s why it’s hard to tell if it’s real or if I’m just dreaming.” She forced herself to slow down at the look of alarm on Lucien’s face.

“You…see things?”

Oh God. She sounded like an absolute nutjob.

“Visions. I have visions.”

Lucien’s mouth fell open but no sound came out. Elain fiddled with the cuffs of her robes, unable to keep looking at the baffled look on his face.

“It started when I was young. I would dream about things, specific things, and then they would happen. I’d see something on the news, or I’d hear about it. Eventually I realized that I was seeing the future. I didn’t have an explanation for it for a while, of course, but then Nesta got her Hogwarts letter and it all made sense. That’s when I knew that I was a witch, too.”

She chanced a glance at Lucien. He was still staring at her, thoroughly immobile as he had been earlier, almost unnaturally so. Like an animal assessing a threat.

“Say something,” Elain urged, loosening a breath.

Lucien seemed to rouse himself, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “You’re…you’re a Seer.”

“Yes.”

“And you have visions.”

“Yes.”

He sounded like he was talking more to himself than to her. Like his brain couldn’t wrap itself around what she was telling him. Still, the fact that he hadn’t laughed at her or dismissed what she was saying made some of the tension ease from her shoulders.

“And these…visions, they usually come to you when you sleep.”

“That’s right. Except…except for one. Recently.”

Realization dawned on his face. He swallowed thickly, the movement making his throat bob. “And by any chance did this happen when I kissed you, and you panicked and said you had a migraine?”

Elain bit her lip, feeling herself flush at the mention of that kiss. “Yes.”

Lucien huffed a laugh, a relieved grin spreading across his face. “God, Elain, why didn’t you say so? I thought I upset you, I’ve been kicking myself for two weeks wondering what I did wrong.”

“So…you believe me?”

“Of course I believe you!” he replied fiercely. “Why wouldn’t I?” Something seemed to dawn on him then, and his grin was replaced by a look of pure horror. “Oh god, Elain. Are you saying that you had a…a vision about a werewolf?”

“Yes. I’ve been wanting to tell you, and the others, too, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t hear any teachers talking about it, I made that up…”

“Have you told anyone else?” he asked, voice filled with alarm.

“No,” Elain replied, once again baffled by his reaction.

“Not even Nesta? Or the twins?”

“No! I wanted to tell you first. Because of…you know. When it happened. I felt so bad, running out on you like that, I promise it had nothing to do with you…”

“Tell me exactly what you saw,” he demanded, cutting her off. “Every single detail.”

Elain frowned at his urgency, unnerved by his change in attitude. “Um. Not much, really. It was night, obviously. A full moon. There was a werewolf standing in front of the Whomping Willow. It…it almost looked like it was staring at me. But that’s how I know it was on school grounds, because of the Whomping Willow.”

“And that’s it? Nothing else, no other…animals?”

“No. Just that.”

Lucien seemed to sag slightly. “Ok. And you’re sure you haven’t told anybody else about this?”

“I told you already, I haven’t….”

“It’s important that you don’t tell anybody else about this, Elain.”

“But, Nesta and Rhysand…”

“Nesta and Rhysand do not need to know,” Lucien said firmly, “because it has nothing to do with the tournament.”

“How can you be so sure?” she pressed. “I don’t want to believe Professor Spell-Cleaver would do this, but…”

“He wouldn’t.” His tone did not invite further argument. “And besides,” he added with a strange smile, “it’s not even a full moon today.”

“Oh.” Elain immediately felt idiotic. Why hadn’t she checked that? “Well, maybe it’s the second trial…” But even as she said it uncertainty started to take hold where before she had been so certain.

She desperately wanted to believe Lucien, but if he was right, it would mean that at some point in the future there would be a werewolf roaming around the Hogwarts grounds unchecked. It was infinitely better than having to fight it, but still.

“Did you see any people anywhere near the werewolf? Any…I don’t know, audience?” Lucien asked with a slightly bitter laugh.

“No. Just the werewolf. By itself.”

“So it sounds like all you saw is a rogue werewolf loose on the Hogwarts grounds, at some point in the future. And if it was sniffing around the Whomping Willow, then it sounds like he’s going to learn his lesson about trespassing.” His russet eye shone with humor as he said this, and Elain gaped at him.

“Does this not bother you? That I saw a werewolf wandering around school grounds?”

Lucien gulped, some of the humor vanishing from his gaze. “Of course,” he said gently. “But…it sounds like there’s not much we can do about it. Professor Spell-Cleaver and the teachers will take care of it.”

“But…”

“As long as you don’t go wandering around outside during the full moon then there shouldn’t be any danger. Right?”

“Right,” Elain agreed, still uncertain. “Don’t you think I should tell someone, though?”

“Definitely not,” Lucien said quickly. “It’ll just raise more questions. They’d probably end up grilling you about your visions…”

“Definitely not, then. You’re right, I just…” How to explain this fear? “Don’t you find it strange that my patronus looked like…that, and then I have this vision right after? What if it means that I…”

“No,” he said firmly. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

“Then why?” she prompted.

He was looking at her strangely now, his expression completely unreadable. He stared at her for so long that Elain started to squirm.

And then the door to the classroom burst open as students started filing in, and the spell was broken. Elain jumped to her feet and hurried out of the classroom, the second years looking at them in awe as they walked past.

“Good luck with the first Trial!” one of them squeaked.

“Thanks!” Lucien grinned broadly and waved at the younger students, ever the showman.

Once they were back in the hallway he grabbed her gently by the elbow, his expression once again serious.

“Look,” he said, taking what sounded like a shaky inhale. “Let’s not worry about this right now, alright? Let’s focus on the first trial, and then we’ll figure this out.”

His use of we was somehow reassuring, and Elain found herself nodding, even if she knew for a fact she wouldn’t be able to let this go.

Especially as she watched him walk away, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t asked him how he had known so certainly that today wasn’t a full moon.

---

Somehow time seemed to speed up even more, Elain’s dread growing along with it. Whatever relief she had felt at not facing a werewolf was quickly replaced by panic as she realized that once again she had absolutely no idea what she would be facing. The only information she had been given was that the first Trial was to start at sundown (which, if she hadn't spoken to Lucien about her suspicions, likely would have made her panic even more).

At dinner that night she once again stared at an empty plate, unable to manage even one bite. Nuala and Cer had given up trying to get her to eat, settling for a few sips of pumpkin juice that immediately set her stomach churning.

Elain started as a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder, so lost in thought she hadn’t heard anybody say her name. She turned and came face to face with Professor Alis, who looked like she was brimming with excitement.

“It’s time,” her Head of House said. “The champions are gathering on the grounds for the first trial.”

Elain’s stomach gave a spectacular lurch.

“Ok.” Her voice was somehow breathless and squeaky at the same time.

“Good luck!”

“You’ll do great! We’ll have snacks waiting for you after!”

“Thanks, guys…” Elain mumbled, letting her friends sandwich her in a sideways hug.

“At least beat Lucien,” Nuala whispered wickedly.

Elain let out a puff of laughter and stood on slightly shaky legs. Professor Alis wrapped an arm around her shoulders and escorted her out of the Great Hall. Heads turned as they walked by- some smiling encouragingly, others sneering.

As they passed by the end of the Slytherin table someone fell into a fit of violent coughing. Elain could have sworn she heard the word cheater through the coughs, but if Professor Alis heard, then she didn’t let on.

“Don’t worry about any of that, dear,” the teacher said fiercely. “Just do your best and prove to them you’re as much a champion as the others.”

Elain wasn’t convinced but she appreciated the vote of confidence all the same.

“Professor,” she started uncertainly as they walked down the front steps and into the darkening grounds, “is it very dangerous, what we’ll be doing?”

Professor Alis squeezed her shoulder. “Of course there’s an element of danger.” Elain’s stomach somersaulted again. “But you’ll all be monitored the entire time, and if you feel like you can’t complete the task, or you end up in a situation you can’t handle, a teacher will be there to remove you right away.”

“Remove us from what?” Elain asked in alarm. The more she asked the less she was reassured, she decided. But her Head of House only smiled, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

As they rounded the Herbology greenhouses a shape loomed in the distance at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Elain realized they were stands, facing the edge of the woods.

They were going into the Forbidden Forest?

Professor Alis came to a stop in front of a tent that had been erected behind the stands. “Here you are,” she said brightly. “Eris Vanserra and Mr Koschei are inside, they’ll be filling you and the other champions in on the details. Good luck!”

Before she could ask anything else the teacher had given her shoulders another squeeze and had disappeared towards the stands. Elain took a shaky breath and walked into the tent. All three other champions were already assembled, though nobody spoke. Lucien was standing next to his brother, who winked at her as she walked in. Rhysand looked as unruffled as ever, though he seemed unable to stop pacing.

Nesta rushed over, her cheeks an uncharacteristic shade of grey. “I think they’re making us go into the forest,” she mumbled, swallowing thickly.

“I know,” Elain whispered back with a glance at the two ministry members. “Have they said anything?”

Nesta shook her head. “They’re waiting for the students to assemble first.”

It seemed to take an eternity. The sound of hundreds of footsteps and rumbling laughter trickled in through the tent, its occupants still standing in tense silence. Finally the noise faded towards the stands, and Eris came to stand in the center of the tent.

“Looks like the time has come!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Everyone ready?”

“It would help if we knew what we had to do,” Nesta grumbled.

Elain reached for her hand and squeezed, as much to reassure Nesta as herself.

“Your first Trial,” Eris continued, “will test your problem solving skills, as well as ability to think calmly under pressure.”

Problem solving. That didn’t sound so bad- perhaps they wouldn’t have to duel anything after all…

“Your task is simple: you are to go into the Forbidden Forest and find a unicorn hair. Note that you will be judged not only on how quickly you complete your task, but also on how you deal with any obstacles you might encounter along the way.”

“That’s it?” Rhysand asked. “We just go in and find a unicorn hair?”

“What do you mean, that’s it?” Nesta spat. “Do you have any idea what lives in there?”

Elain silently agreed with her sister, though she liked this task infinitely more than the one she had been envisioning. She glanced at Lucien, standing uncharacteristically quiet behind Eris, and saw he seemed to be suppressing a smile.

“You’ll be going in staggered,” Mr Koschei cut in, ignoring the interruption. “We’ll be drawing names to determine the order.”

He retrieved a small velvet bag from his robes and held it out. “Ladies first.”

Elain heard Nesta gulp beside her as she reached into the bag, pulling out a small black marble with the number “1” etched into it.

“Well, less time to overthink it, I guess,” she said, setting her jaw in a determined line.

Elain reached in with slightly shaky fingers. Her own marble was a golden yellow, marked with a 4. She wasn’t sure whether to think of it as a blessing or a curse. Rhysand went next, picking out a blue marble marking him as second, leaving Lucien with a red marble and the second to last spot.

“There will be teachers on brooms monitoring the forest,” Eris continued. “If you find yourselves in trouble and wish to be rescued, simply send up red sparks and someone will come get you right away.”

She could do this. Just walk in, find some unicorn hairs, and walk out.

Right?

“You’ll be going into the forest ten minutes apart. Nesta, when you’re ready.” Eris held open the flap on the other side of the tent. Elain spotted the Forbidden Forest looming beyond it, silent and menacing and utterly, impenetrably dark.

“See you on the other side!” Nesta gave her hand one last squeeze, and then she was gone.

Rhysand went next, looking almost bored. And then it was just her and Lucien, with Eris looking back and forth between them with a wicked grin.

“See?” Lucien mumbled under his breath, flashing her a grin. “Told you it’d be something fun.”

Elain loosed a laugh. “If this is your idea of fun you need some new hobbies.”

A gust of wind blew open the opening to the tent, giving them another view of the eerie forest beyond. Elain shivered despite herself.

“Just remember,” Lucien whispered, so low she could barely hear him. “Unicorns prefer open spaces with fresh water. Look for a clearing or something with a stream or a pond.”

Elain blinked at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”

Lucien winked at her. “I pay attention in class sometimes.”

“You’re up, baby brother!” Eris called from the edge of the tent.

“One more thing,” Lucien whispered hurriedly. “If you need someone to light the way…just call Moony.” And with that he disappeared into the night.

If the last few weeks had flown by, then somehow the next ten minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly. There was nothing Elain could do but stand at the edge of the tent, shuffling nervously and wracking her brain for any knowledge about unicorns, the Forbidden Forest, or the many creatures that resided in it. The creatures that made it so dangerous that it was deemed Forbidden.

She could still back out. She could claim an illness, or say she couldn’t do it, and she would simply not receive any points. But then Hufflepuff House would once again be the losers, overlooked and mocked, and she’d be the coward who made it happen. The cheating coward, no less.

So Elain gritted her teeth, and when Eris held open the tent for her she walked out into the dark.

[racfoam]

the pranking umbridge idea got me thinking. so "realistically" (boo, boring ik, but stay with me here) basilisks have to be manually bred. a chicken egg hatched beneath a toad, apparently. ANYWAYS. tom grows to have a deep respect for the basilisk, and (for the first time ever) has sympathy for her lonely plight. 

tom has a brain blast™️ moment and decides that he will be the first wizard in centuries to hatch a clutch of basilisk eggs! he still plans to charm her to sleep at the end of his seventh year, but now she will have her own family to wake up to from now on! AND, when tom takes over wizarding britain, he will be able to stop by and visit her whenever he wants! what could possibly go wrong?? 

myrtle happens. more specifically: the night the eggs hatch, Mama B begs to leave through the front entrance to get food for her hatchlings as soon as possible, and well. the toilet was occupied. 

the basilisks are put down to sleep, the babies still in the incubator tom set up in a separate part of the chamber, and tom thinks to bide his time before reviving them.

[50+ years later...]

harry: ...so i think tomorrow i'll go down and see what i can find in the chamber. hopefully something that can really sell the whole thing to that hag

voldy: oh, while you're down there, do you mind waking the hatchlings? it's not healthy for them to be in a magical coma for so long at such a tender stage in their development. oh, and they'll be hungry! bring them a brace of rabbits. and renew the warming charms!

harry: 

harry: the. you.

harry: wake the what

Anon. Anon, this is BRILLIANT. This would be the perfect reveal ❤️

I'm making this a nynn oneshot, aren't I? 😪

Yes. Yes, I am.

[terra-esperra]

Endings are Beginnings

This is my first ever fanfiction, please be kind.

Sebastian Sallow x Original Female Character (my Hogwarts Legacy Slytherin MC)

Story is posted on AO3 & Wattpad

New Beginnings are often disguised as Painful Endings. -Lao Tzu

Aurora McKnight and Sebastian Sallow used to be inseparable, but that couldn't be further from the reality of their lives in the last year. Now their paths have started to cross again, but the road ahead holds harder challenges then they ever had to face before. Not everyone can have a happy ending. But not all endings are final.

Chapter 1: New Year

The summer holiday was over, but the summer sun still warmed the land. With the weather aiding in happy her mood, Aurora McKnight couldn’t help but feel ecstatic on her flight to school. September had finally arrived, and it was the start of her final year at Hogwarts. She could hardly believe she was in her seventh year already. Seemed like a lifetime ago that Professor Fig had taken her in and brought her to Hogwarts for the first time as a fifth year. So much has happened since then.

Aurora didn’t take the train to school as she did last year. Her new home, a charming little cottage, was in the mountains, so broom flight was simply easier. Enchantments used on her trunks had shrunk them down to a travel-able size, and with all her beast with her in the nab-sack, she was all set to start the new year.

As she flew high in the sky, the castle still very small and far in sight, she thought of her summer. The last couple of months she spent mostly alone with her beast, caring for each one and helping to raise the offspring of the few that had given birth. There was a hand full of times she was able to meet up with her friends in Hogsmeade for rounds of butterbeers and to catch up, but everyone else had their own plans for the summer holiday and remained busy. She was looking forward to seeing her friends again.

This was going to be her last year at the castle as a student. That thought only held a bit of sadness in her heart, but those feelings were nothing compared to the happiness of beginning a new year. There will be time for sadness later at the end.

Aurora flew over the crowd of students making their way up the stairs from the boat house to the gates of Hogwarts. She tried looking down for any familiar faces of her friends, but she couldn’t recognize anyone. Before she knew it, she was landing in the courtyard as the first wave of students started to make their way into the castle. She again tried looking around again for any of her friends, but there were simply too many faces to be able to find anyone she knew.

‘Guess I’ll just head to the common room’ she thought to herself as she entered the castle’s main doors and made her way to the dungeons where the Slytherin House was. She had a small wager with Ominis anyway, so hopefully she’d make it there before he did, and she could just wait for him at the entrance.

Aurora was able to make her way quickly through the castle, down to the dungeons, and arrived at the common room door just as some juror classmates had arrived and spoke the password to let them all enter. There, just beyond the entrance, at the top of the stairs waiting was Ominis.

“Damnit” she quietly mumbled as she took in his appearance. It’s only been a few months, but he seems to have matured quite a bit in his face and body. Other than that, his blonde hair neatly slick back, not a hair out of place. His Slytherin uniform and robe is without a single wrinkle. It could annoy her how perfectly he presented himself without him even knowing.

“There you are. I thought it was supposed to be you waiting on me and not the other way around this year”, he said with a smirk as Aurora approached him. Aurora wasn’t even surprised at the fact he knew she was approaching him. For someone born blind, he was extremely conscious of his surroundings. Ominis was referring to the promise she made last year when they arrived back at Hogwarts to start their 6th year. He complained he waited on her too long and thus she wagered that would would be waiting on him the following year.

“I’m sorry, but you couldn’t have been waiting long. They just open the doors.” Aurora took his arms into hers, connecting at the elbow, and they started to walk down the steps to the common room together. He trusted her to guide him rather than using his wand to see.

“I used my connects and got in before anyone else. Told Black that my father wanted his son to be able to get to the Slytherin rooms safety rather than with the wave the students all returning at once.” He said with a smirk on his face.

Aurora’s mouth dropped in mild shock.

“That’s cheating Ominis!”

“What of it?”

Aurora just huffed but decided to let it go. No sense in creating a dispute with him. It was all playful fun away. Besides, now they could find a comfortable spot in the room to catch up before more students over crowed the area while we wait for dinner and the ceremony. She led them to a bench next to one of the windows of the lake. The little light from the sun that was able to shine through the water created a comfortable ambiance that always seemed to calm any nerves she may have. This was home.

“So how was your holiday Ominis?” She asked as they sat down. She had to body turn towards him, but slightly out to the lobby. She wanted to keep a look out for who else was returning for the year. There was a subconscious need for her to know who was always around. The previous years of fighting a variety of emeries made her develop this trait.

“Oh, home was lovely” He said sarcastically, “Mother and Father are as insufferable as usual. Though my older brother only said maybe three words to me all summer, so that was very kind of him.” Aurora could only giggle at his brief summary of his time away from school. She had no family left, but she supposed that was better than going home to a loveless one.

“You know I don’t like speaking of my family. Tell me about your holiday. You mention finding an area to raise your beast before we left school.” The mention of her home and beast made her face light up with glee. Ominis couldn’t see the smile on her face at the mention of her beast, but he could feel the excitement radiating from her.

“I was able to find a small valley hiding in the middle of the mountains. It’s secluded enough that the beast can run free, and I shouldn’t have to worry about the poachers finding it. There’s even steam a that runs from one of the mountains tops that provide wat-“

“Aurora?” Ominis reached out to her shoulder when she abruptly stopped her story.

Aurora couldn’t hear his call for her. Everything around her seemed to stand still when she noticed that he had walked into the room.

‘Sebastian’

She turned her head away from the center of the room to look down at her and Ominis’ feet. She tried to get her bearings while Ominis concerning voice finally started to reach her ears.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Ominis knew. He always knew. “Aurora, are you okay? Talk to me. Is he looking at you? Is he coming this way?”

Aurora turned her head slightly to look back up to see what the brunette was doing. Sure enough, he was leaning up by the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest, and had his eyes fixed in their direction. Her eyes met with his dark chestnut ones immediately, forcing her to turn away from is gazed and turn back to Ominis.

With her quick glance, she had noticed he’s matured as well. Matured very well. He’s grown even taller than what she noticed from last year. Under his robes, she could tell his arms and chest had become more defined and muscular. His baby face has grown lean into that of a man’s, still cluttered with freckles.

He was always beautiful to her, and he’s only grown more so. Aurora could feel her face get hot with a blush.

“No, he’s over by the fireplace. He’s talking to some students I don’t quite recognize.” She partly lied. She didn’t want to tell Ominis that Sebastian was staring at them.

“Are you lying to me?”

“No, Ominis. Please, just let it go.”

Before he could press her even more, one of the prefects announced that it was time to make our way to the Great Hall, the new first years were gathered, and the sorting ceremony would begin shortly.

“It’s time Ominis, come on,” Aurora stood up first and linked their arms at the elbows once more to lead him out to the dining hall. Ominis didn’t say anything more as he let her lead him out of the common room and up the stairs out of their house. The two kept quite the entire time walking towards the hall with the other students. Sebastian, being closer to the stairs than they were, was already lost in the crowd. Hopefully far enough ahead.

While walking with Ominis, in a sea of other students, Aurora quickly got lost in her thoughts. Ominis might as well have been guiding her, as she was more in her head than paying attention to her path.

Sebastian and she were inseparable during their 5th year. Where one was, the other was either next to or not far away. However, after the events that took place in the winter and spring of that year, their relationship was stained. With casting unforgivable curses, Sebastian killing his uncle in a fight for knowledge to cure his sister, killing a man herself and being the cause of death to her mentor, and then absorbing an immense power in hopes to being able to cure the same sister Sebastian tried to- only to fail, was too much for their relationship to handle at the age of 16. So much that they have not spoken to each other since going their separate ways for once that year ended for the summer. Not a word at all was spoken between them last year during sixth year.

Wasn’t that she was avoiding him per se, their paths didn’t cross as much and neither made the effort to seek each out to the other. Aurora took the year to really focus on her studies more and give attention to her beasts without the added distractions of death at nearly every turn that fifth year had brought. Sebastian had seemed busy himself with quidditch and flirting with every other student with a pair of legs and tits.

Though it wasn’t her business to care.

But that didn’t mean it doesn’t still fucking hurt.

She had loved him with everything she could have given, and did give, to him. There was a while she thought that love was returned. But that obviously wasn’t the case for him. His life has kept going seemingly unfazed. While she silently cried herself to sleep most nights last year missing him and what she hoped could have been, he’s still the face of Slytherin. With more friends and fan girls than she could compete with.

‘It’s for the best that we’re no longer close.’

Before she knew it, they passed the double doors into the dining room. Aurora and Ominis sat towards the back of their house’s table, as they were one of the last to arrive. She couldn’t see Sebastian anywhere, so she assumed he was towards the front, closest to where the sorting ceremony would begin. She tried to put Sebastian out of her thoughts the best she could and continued her conversation with Ominis about her valley and her beast.

The ceremony was just about to begin when Aurora suddenly realized she needed to step out for a moment. She knew she had to be quick if she was going to make it back in time to see all the new first years come through to get sorted into their houses, and she was looking forward to seeing the joy on the young kids’ faces.

“Ominis, I ‘ll be right back.” she said as she rose from her seat and began to step away.

“Where are you going?” He reached out to grab her hand, gripping her robe to stop her from leaving.

“I’m just going to the lady’s room” she snickered as she walked away.

She let her guard down.

There was nothing unusual heading to the lady’s laboratory.

On her way back, however, she had not noticed someone behind her until she felt a pull on her shoulder. The grip startled her, and she let out a small cry. The force pulled her back towards the wall, and she was able to look up at the person that decided to stop her.

She wasn’t expecting to see Sebastian’s face glaring down on her.

“We need to talk.” He said softly in her ears as he bent down to grab her hand and started pulling her away from the ceremony that had just begun. She did nothing to protest his grip, though she did struggle to keep up with his longer and faster stride. He continued to lead her away, towards the stairs that led to the entrance of the dungeons.

He practically dragged her all the way down the winding staircase to the bottom. Once they hit the last step, he cornered her behind the staircase, out of sight of anyone who might be wandering around and not present for the celebration. His large frame towered over her. His hands placed above her head, caging her in with no apparent means of escape. Aurora shrunk back as far as she could, trying to make she self as small as possible. His dark stare made her want to shrink down even further in herself.

“What do you want from me Sebastian”, she spoke softly, her head turned to the side to keep her gaze away from him.

She hated this.

Normally, she would go toe to toe with anyone who was confrontational towards her. She had a fire in her that could rival that of even the bravest Gryffindor. But right now, she didn’t have a spark of a flame against him.

She felt Sebastian lean down to her face, in an attempt to get her to look him in the eye. It was apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything until she looked at him. With a huff, she finally gave in and met his eyes.

For a moment, he just continued to stare into her.

“This is just a game to you?”

The question caught her off guard and immediately switched her mood. She straightened up her spine and returned his irritated glare back at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

One of his hands that was resting above her came down to punch the wall right next to her head. She jumped slightly from being startled by the impact. Sebastian has always had a temper, but never did she think she would be on the receiving end.

“Don’t fucking sit there and play dumb, Aurora!” he was seethed. Her eyes widened and her mouth just hung open. She pressed her back as far as she could to the back wall.

“I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. We haven’t spoken since fifth year! What game could I possibly being playing with you?” The confusion was written all over her face, her voice shook with nerves, but Sebastian didn’t relent at all and brought his face even closer to hers.

“You’re really going to sit there and act all innocent. After we spent all that time together for the whole fifth year. We went through everything together. Then you abandon me at the end of the year.”

His allegations weren’t fair.

“That’s not at all-“ she tried to intervene.

“Then I come back last year”, he talked over her, “to watch to attach yourself to Ominis- my best friend, my brother, and you don’t even try to talk to me.”

His anger initially shocked her. However, she got over that and grew angry herself. Aurora took a step forward towards him, forcing him to take a half a step back and straighten up himself. He was more than a head taller than her, but she tilted her head back and stood as tall as she could to face him. Her meekness moments ago was forgotten. These claims weren’t fair and wrong.

“As I recall, you didn’t try to talk to me either.” Her voice was steady, but she wanted to convey to him he wasn’t going to push her around.

“Your guard dog forbade me to. He said he wouldn’t stand for me to hurt you again. Crock of shit that is,” he chuckled darkly, “When you’re the one who said you needed the space and to give you time. I let you go, waiting for you to come back when you were ready- yet I’m the one that hurt you?!”

“Because you did hurt me!” All her patience was gone now, “When I couldn’t cure Anne, you couldn’t look at me for weeks, and even when you did, all I could see in your eyes was disappointment. You hated me for not being able to help her!” Aurora anger was growing now. It was getting harder to contain.

“I never blamed you! I was upset, sure! I truly believe your ancient power would be enough to finally heal her, but I never blamed you after it didn’t work. And I certainly never hated you.”

They were yelling at this point. Sebastian had bent his body down again so their faces for leveled and their noses were almost touching. They were physically closer to each other more than they had been in well over a year, yet they have never been further apart.

“Cut the bullshit, Sebastian. You owe me that much. Besides, you can hardly say you’ve missed me. I watched all last year as you had two to three girls hanging on you through the hallways. Smiling and laughing without a care!”

She felt her temperature start to rise. She was getting too hot.

“So, it’s my fault for finding a distraction while I watch you hang all over my best friend to get back at me?!”

“I never used Ominis to get back at you, fucking arse! Ominis was there for me as a friend after all the bullshit you put us through with the dark magic nonsense” She couldn’t believe him, “He’s the only one that could have understood the pain you put me through. He has been a better friend to me then you ever were.”

That made him snap. Sebastian put his hand on her at the junction of her throat and shoulder then pushed against the wall. His face was controlled with anger.

“Is that right?” He spoke low in her ear, “Does he kiss you better then I did?”

Her heart started to beat rapidly from the memories that were being brought to the surface.

He continued, “Is he keeping your bed warm now too. Has he felt your body the way I did? Has he taken you when you promised to wait for me?”

“Sebastian s-stop”, tears began to well up in her eyes. She could feel herself start to lose control.

Sebastian stepped back again to look her in the eyes. Aurora was having trouble catching her breath, which had nothing to do with his hand still at the base of her throat. He wasn’t choking her, just holding firmly her in place. His eyes looked into hers with still so much anger, she couldn’t see the pain he was in himself. He wasn’t going to show her.

“You moved on quick. Must’ve been easy to convince a blind man you’d loved him, taking advantage of that lack of sight huh? Tell me, does his hands-“

He was cut off when a sudden power knocked him clear across the hallway. A gust of wind stronger than any Depulso charm he’d ever felt knocked the air from his lungs as he hit the stone wall. The landing to the ground wasn’t so soft either. After a moment, he was able to right himself up on hands and knees, trying to regain his breath before looking back at what had knocked him away.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of him.

Aurora still stood under the stairs. What he could only have assumed was her ancient magic was swirling around her. Bright red sparks of energy dancing along her body like lightning. Her eyes glowed a menacing red. It was as frightening to him as it was beautiful.

Sebastian started to call out to her, but she stopped him as soon as she heard him start to say her name.

“Don’t. Just don’t, Sebastian.” She closed her eyes and clenched her fist at her side. “I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

She opened her eyes, only to scowl at him, “All I did throughout our fifth- everything I did, was for you. I loved you and I gave you every part of my heart.” Tears began to run down her face. “I know we haven’t been close for over a year, but that doesn’t mean you can treat me like this.” Her voice was breaking apart as the sobs started to take over.

Her sobbing quickly became uncontrollable. The magic around her was increasing, the sparks grew and became more erratic around her.

“Aurora…” Sebastian was able to finally get to his feet and took a step towards her. His movement brought him back into her focus. Without her wand, without a verbal cast, he was pinned back to the wall. He couldn’t move, no matter how hard he tried.

“Just stay away from me Sebastian. You ignored me all this time, I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you to do it again.”

With that, she took off up the stairs, out of his sight.

“AURORA!”

The magic still held him in place as she ran away. He couldn’t do anything but close his eyes, as the realization of what had just occurred finally sunk in. He never wanted to confront her in this way. He fucked up. He only could hang his head and swear under his breath in frustration as the sounds of her footsteps faded with the distance.

___

The magic was slipping from her control. Her emotions were on high, and she couldn’t contain them, let alone the ancient power coursing throughout her body. She had to do something, and quick before she lost complete control.

She fled the castle’s grounds before anyone else could see her. Once she made to the outside, she conjured her broom and took off high in the sky. She waited till she was a mile or so away from the castle before she started casting Revelio every so often, using the spell to find an outlet to release her magic.

She didn’t have cast the charm too many times before she finally found what she was looking for. A poacher’s camp, right near a magical beast’s nestling location.

Aurora touch down in the middle of the camp. The magic’s aura was overflowing, there wasn’t time for a stealth approach. It was a larger camp than most. She guessed there were about 30-40 poachers surrounding her. Different beasts throughout the camp, locked in cages and in obvious destress. Only influenced her rage even more. A few of the poachers started towards her, wands drawn, but they did not seem too concerned about her sudden appearance.

“Hey there darling, are you lost.” A poacher said he inched closer to her. More poachers stopped what they were doing and began to approach her as well. She was the center of the whole camp’s attention now, quickly enclosing on her.

‘Darling,’ she thought bitterly.

She was brought back to a time a certain brunette Slytherin called her that. In their common room, in the middle of the night by the fire. A time when she thought they would be happy and together forever.

She turned towards the poacher who called her the horrid term, her face emotionless, tears still streaming down. Her eyes glowed red as she let the magic slip from her control. A dark red mist started to flow off her and surround the camp.

“I’m no one’s darling.” She whispered darkly as she sent a silent cast of Bombarda to the poacher, affectively blowing his head up from his shoulder. The now headless body dropped to the ground with a thud. She smiled as the other poachers took a couple steps back from their fallen comrade.

“You little bitch! You will pa-“ the poacher wasn’t able to finish his threat as a Diffindo charm cut him clean in half. She took her time taking out the rest of poachers, one at a time. She didn’t need to use an of the unforgivable curses, not when she was enjoying hearing their cries from the attacking spells she learned legally from her teachers.

Before any of the other poachers could even process what was happening, the ancient magic finally exploded into a wave around her. The blast killed every poacher left alive in its path, sparing only the innocent beast.

She collapsed to the ground, the magic was finally released, and exhaustion was now taking over. She was able to curl herself into a ball before she let darkness take her. Using the ancient magic takes a toll on her.

And a little piece of her gets lost each time as well.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #21P: Leonidas I

today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building Leonidas I, and thankfully we’re not building all 299 of the other guys. hopefully that won’t cramp your style. Leo’s a Fighter to fight good, but we’ll also dip into the Viking, Marshal, and Bastion archetypes for some stronger shielding and a little charisma.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

next up: roma lite

Ancestry & Background

I’m sorry if this comes off as a surprise, but Leonidas is still a Human. that means you get a boost in any two stats of your choice like Strength and Constitution. That being said, if we want to hold down the hot gates, we need to be a descendant of an Ifrit. that gives you fire resistance equal to half your level, and environmental heat affects you one step less than most people. you also get access to ifrit feats like your Cindersoul. with this, your DC to recover from acid, bleed, and poison is reduced.

you also have a Noble Resolve which comes into play at level 5, giving you a +1 bonus for Will saves against mental effects. you’ll also automatically know whatever poor sonofabitch tried to charm or frighten you.

at level 9 you can perform a Scorching Disarm once per day, sticking an enemy’s sword into your fiery helmet and turning it red hot. you make an athletics check to disarm a creature without needing a free hand. if you succeed, the target takes fire damage unless it drops the weapon, and on a critical success they’ll do both.

at level 13, you can Summon Fire Elemental once per day, spending 3 actions to cast Summon Elemental as a 5th level spell, so you can summon a Living Wildfire. I know I said we weren’t making all 299 extra guys, but having some backup is usually smart.

finally, at level 17 you can Bounce Back for free when you lose the dying condition, keeping yourself from getting wounded once per day. that’s the power of guts, baby!

Leonidas is also a Warrior, giving him a boost in Strength and Constitution again as well as training in Intimidation and Warfare so he can use the Intimidating Glare feature. with this, you can demoralize using the visual trait instead of auditory, so you don’t take a penalty against targets that don’t understand your languages. I don’t think they speak Greek in… wherever pathfinder takes place.

Class Levels

1. starting off as a fighter means your Key Ability is Strength, which not only means your fighting DCs are based on it, but you get yet another boost to boot. on top of that, it’s proficiency time! you’re trained in Will Saves, Class DC, Advanced Weapons, and all kinds of Armor, as well as a bevy of skills- Athletics, Arcana, and Society now, and Survival, Nature, and Deception as we level up. if that wasn’t enough, you’re also an expert in Perception; Fortitude and Reflex saves; and Unarmed, Simple, and Martial Weapons.

as a level one fighter, there’s some things everyone gets- and Ability Boost (which we’re taking for Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, and Intelligence), the ability to make Attacks of Opportunity against moving and manipulating foes, and the Shield Block reaction to take less damage. you’re the last line of defense, after all. holy shit we’re actually using Shield Block!

you also get one fighter feat of your choosing, and I want Combat Assessment. with this, you can spend an action to make an attack, recalling knowledge on a hit. you’ll even get a bonus to the check if you critically hit! you can use it once per day per target.

2. at level two you can make an aggressive block whenever you take the shield block reaction! if the attacking creature is your size or smaller you can knock it around, pushing it 5 feet or making it flat-footed for a round. the creature gets to choose, and it can’t move into occupied spaces. it’s not quite THIS IS SPARTA, but it’s what we got.

you also gain additional lore to be real good with mountains. you’re trained with mountains now, and you’ll get better with it at third, seventh, and 15th levels. it’s the closest thing to canyons in pathfinder, and we need to know them inside and out for a lil somethin’ somethin’ later.

also, you’re now a viking! with this you become trained in sailing lore. spartans weren’t known for being great sailors, but that’s like being in last place in the major leagues. you also ignore difficult terrain in shallow water, and you always critically succeed in swimming! the all-terrain lancer!

3. at level 3 you’ve got some bravery, making you an expert in will saves, and your successes against fear are always critical! even if you fail, you get less frightened than most people.

we’ll also bump up your Warfare lore a bit so you can be a Battle Planner now. when you scout an enemy’s position, or get info from a scout, you can spend a minute coming up with a battle plan. basically, you can roll a warfare check and use that for your initiative roll when you eventually fight them. since you’re afraid of ghosts we can’t really bump up your wisdom too much, so this’ll help out a ton when it comes to getting into fights early.

4. at level 4 you get a Shielded Stride. when your shield is raised you can stride without triggering attacks of opportunity. you can even do this while swimming or flying!

you’re also clever enough to have an Eye for Numbers, so you can spend an action to estimate the number of items in a group. you also get a bonus to deciphering math-based writing. ya huge nerd.

you also get a situational version of the shield block feat, Reactive Shield. if you’re about to take a melee hit, you can react to add your shield’s bonus to your AC. you’re usually fighting defensively anyway, but now you can extend yourself further and still get your shield up in time.

5. level five’s pretty basic, just improving on what you’ve already got. you get an Ability Boost in Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, and Wisdom, as well as Fighter Weapon Mastery, making you a lot better with various spears, as well as granting you their critical specialization. you’re also an expert in Athletics now.

6. at level 4 you got a new shield reaction, but it’s been a whole two levels! time for a new one. with Guardian’s Deflection, you can use a shield to add 2 to a friend’s AC if they’re getting hit and that would make a difference.

and while you’re more rough and tumble than most kings you’ve still got some Courtly Graces, making it easier to make impressions on nobles.

you use shields a lot, so we’re probably bumping into Pathfinder’s big issue with shields by now- in Pathfinder, shields have HP. with Second Shield, you can use a free action to grab another one after your current one breaks. you can also improvise shields from random items, if your DM okays it.

7. another old stuff but better level! you deal more damage with Weapon Specialization, you’re better with Intimidation, and you’re a Battlefield Surveyor that bumps up your perception and you get a bonus to initiative rolls.

finally, you can Diehard, so you die at dying 5 instead of 4. more guts baby!

8. there’s no more denying it- you came here to read and to lead! so that’s why you’re now a marshal. with this, you’ve got a marshal’s aura in a 10’ range around you, giving you and any friends inside a +1 bonus against fear! this also gives you a boost in intimidation- spartan’s ain’t nice y’all.

but what is nice is this makes your group coercion real heckin’ good, letting you coerce up to 10 people at a time! if that doesn’t work out you can always quick shield block for an extra reaction each turn. you can only use this to shield block like the name implies tho.

9. level nine’s pretty fast, mostly because we’re not picking anything for Combat Flexibility here. it lets you gain a fighter feat of level 8 or lower that you can swap out each day. we will, however, pick a skill increase here, so congrats, you’re better at living in a Society now. you’re also better with Fortitude saves thanks to being a Juggernaut. not only does that make you a master, it also gives you critical successes more often!

10. halfway through the build you get another ASI for more Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, and Charisma. you also gain some Combat Reflexes, giving you an extra reaction each round for attacks of opportunity!

we’re also getting a lot more vocal this time around with the skill feat Battle Cry, which really doesn’t work like the FGO skill. in FGO, you get stronger buster cards. here, it attempts to demoralize a foe as a free action when you roll initiative. once we get your intimidation up a little more though it’ll help you demoralize someone as a reaction every time you crit too! you can also shout out for an ally to Steel Yourself! as an action. one ally in your aura gains temporary HP and a bonus to Fortitude saves for a round.

11. this level you get expertise in armor and your class DC, which is nice. you also learn a little Diplomacy to maybe help out with the Peloponnesian War a lil, and if that falls through you’re a Prescient Planner, letting you spend a minute to retroactively buy a useful piece of adventuring gear.

12. at level 12 your aggressive block turns into a Flinging Shove, letting you push a creature back even further or make them flat-footed for a round. decisions, decisions…

you’ll have plenty of time to make those decisions now that you’re Too Angry to Die. after being knocked unconscious you can spend a reaction as you stand up to demoralize a nearby foe. and it’s good that you’re fast at getting back up, because you like to fight Back to Back. as long as you’re next to a buddy, neither of you can be flanked unless you both are. you can even team up with multiple allies this way, though it falls through if you and another ally are flanked.

13. thirteen’s another fast one- you’re better at survival, and all your weapon skills get bumped up thanks to you being a Weapon Legend. you’re still slightly better with a spear, but you’re really good with just about anything you want.

14. at level 14 your Determination lets you end a spell effect on you as an action. you have to make a check, but you’re pretty good with will saves anyway. you’re also finally able to put your Ambush Tactics into practice while in the mountains. if an enemy is rolling stealth for their initiative, you can use your Mountain Lore to roll yours- which, btw, is going to be Legendary next level.

you can also keep your men in line with a Cadence Call, something like “spartans, what is your profession?” will make allies in your aura quickened for a turn, giving them an extra action to move with. if they used that action, they’ll be slowed next turn though.

15. so, first things first, you’re a master in Athletics and a legend with Mountain Lore. on top of that, your strength, dexterity, constitution, and intelligence are higher now, and your Evasion makes you a master of Reflex saves, and you get critical success easier. you also have Greater Weapon Specialization which is Weapon Specialization with bigger numbers, and Improved Flexibility for another fighter feat each day. your one new thing is you can make a Powerful Leap, increasing your long and high jumps.

a whole lot going on, but it’s mostly just better stuff you already had.

16. your new Quick Climb will make setting up positions in a canyon easier, and you can also make a Desperate Finisher, using a press attack as a reaction, though it will shut down any other reactions you could have used that round. if you know a fight’s over, you might as well go for it, right?

in case you don’t believe the best defense is a good offense, let’s get a better defense by joining the Bastion dedication. this gives you Reactive Shield for free, which… you already had. bummer. still, these are free archetypes, so you’re not missing out terribly.

17. you’re now a master in all kinds of Armor, as well as Warfare. love these short levels.

18. congratulations, you’re now a Legendary Professional! technically this works with your mountain lore and not your warfare lore until next level, but it means you get more money when you earn income with your skills, and more money means more men in your army. that beats a little anachronisity every day.

speaking of weird timings, now that you’re a bastion, you can gain the Reflexive Shield feat, so whenever you raise your shield you get a bonus to reflex saves, and damage from failed reflex saves can be Shield Blocked. that gives you access to the fighter feat Improved Reflexive Shield, so whenever you block reflex-based damage nearby allies also take less damage. being a shield wall was so much easier IRL, you didn’t have to worry about dragons or nothing!

19. as promised, you’re now legendary in Warfare. you’re also legendary with simple, martial, and unarmed weapons and a master with advanced weapons and your class DC.

20. with your final level you get another boost to Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, and Wisdom. you also gain the best fighter feat for a defensive build, Boundless Reprisals. with this, you get an extra reaction every turn that you can use on any fighter feat or class feature, which is huge for a build all about responding to attacks. on top of that, you’re now a Shield Warden, letting you Shield Block as a reaction to protect any allies next to you. you also learn to Wall Jump, that’s just kind of there.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

I think you might just be a better shielder than even Mash was, and that’s saying something! your shield can protect from reflex saves and attacks on other enemies, and you have literally as many reactions as the enemy has men. not to mention you can pick up shields as a free action every time you break one down.

you’re also weirdly good at diplomacy, oddly enough. you’ve got solid intimidation, society, and diplomacy. you run a country, it’s kind of a necessity.

you’re really flexible when it comes to your gear. you don’t really wear armor, you’re great with every kind of weapon, and you can literally just pick up random shit to use as a shield when yours breaks!

Cons:

shields break in Pathfinder. that really sucks when your entire build centers around blocking stuff. we’ve taken steps to minimize the damage, but if your shield craps out on you and there’s nothing around to replace it with… good luck, especially since you don’t wear armor.

you don’t do magical damage, outside disarming people and a single spell per day at level 13. that’s not a big deal if your campaign is low-magic, but if you fight big bad beasties with resistances and have a stingy DM, you’re going to have a bad time.

your play style is highly reactive. that’s not a bad thing, stopping the enemies from hurting people is super useful, but it doesn’t quite feel as satisfying as being proactive, at least not to me. maybe that’s just a personal thing.

[yumimaus]

All your life was pretty boring. Being a normal child, the middle child to be precise, you went to school, graduated fairly well and now you finally began your Pokemon journey with 21 years old. Your first Pokemon was Chimchar.

Still, you weren't ecstatic. It was going pretty good. Six gym badges were already received and you were getting ready to fight Candice, but first you had to collect snow clothing.

Bored out of your mind you went to the next shoppingcenter to gather clothes.

You were scrolling through some clothes on some clothehangers when some of the TV's in the shop blew up with news of the new sinnoh championship which starts in two months. They seem to have the urge to present the elite four and the champ.

It appeared that they came out of some kind of tunnel, one after another.

You weren't really paying attention, while others in the store were swooning over the celebrity status they inhabit. You could just roll your eyes at that fake fame. You never believed in the celebrity status in the first place, no matter how well known someone is or was.

"What a stupidity. Losing their shit over something that trivial...", you mumbled while looking for some warm baggy pants. "Yeah right? Didn't see myself as famous either. Hey, name's Flint, fancy meetin' ya.", a voice rang in your ears. Pleasant and calm, not arrogant, but boyish. You look next to you and see a young man, around your age with an yellow shirt, baggy gray pants, red suspenders hanging around his waist, black thick chocker around his throat and around his arms he wore similar two bracelets on each wrist, but the same thickness, brown flipflops and he had a bright red afro, that stood out pretty much. 'Talking about Ronald McDonald...', you thought, but you were a little thrown off of his pure gray eyes, clear skin complexion and an boyish charming smirk on his lips.

Your mind wandered somewhere else for several moments until you snapped back to reality once again. "Yo, my name's y/n. What's a elite four member like you doin' around here? Vacation?", you introduced yourself fairly okay, but then proceeded to embarrass yourself with your stupid introverted anti-sentences and boy- could you slap yourself for it. You wanted to apologize for your attitude, but he beat you to it: "Hahaha, that's one hell of a greeting. I like that. Seems legit. At least you aren't holding back. And well no. No vacation, just simple training. Wanted to train my team for the upcoming championship. You take part in it too or what's ya plan?"

You were thinking about your gym badges and then you kinda had the chance to see this guy again.- STOP! Why were you even thinking about such thing? You were never interested in other human beings before or liked to see someone twice in your life, if it wasn't necessary, but this time-?

"I... uh... sorry...? Yeah, training sounds good so far...? I... don't know. Maybe? Well I... uh- I'm about to get my seventh badge, so I guess I partake in the tournament? Why's that important?", you stammer and blabber stupid shit, before you fell into old habits of being an asshat again. Why couldn't you just socialize like everybody else? You wanted to smack your head into the nearest wall so bad and so hard, but the karma had other plans with you. "Hey nice, then I hope seeing you there but I won't make it easy on ya, so you know. You know what? Here's my number. Text me, will ya? See ya 'round Y/N, hopefully soon. And I can't emphasize this enough...- Text. Me.", he winks at you and writes his phone number on your arm and then with a last warm goodbye he left the store.

With an open mouth you stood there like a fish without water and looked at your arm. Why would he want for you to text him? Many many irritating feelings are starting to bubble up in your stomach and you KNOW that something will happen...

[groovebunker]

cc gets some help with valentine's breakfast.