#i almost wrote forbidden forest

[leepackett]

When: 29th February 2024 Where: Carynthia Who: @songsofelisa

“‘Lisa,” Lee was already digging in his jacket pocket for his tin before he started talking. "I don't have to be at work for like, three hours. It's a gorgeous fucking day," (hardly, you could hear the wind coming off the diving cliffs). Lee had had a long week. Sometimes, having as many random jobs as he did, lead to a long week. And even with all his energy, he hadn't had a decent chunk of time off in ages, and he wanted to take full advantage of the next few hours by letting loose. "Have a joint with me."

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hehehehe okay so what if you like wrote a fic about remus lupin x reader. The reader is a teacher (preferably like astronomy) and they're sneaking around together. students are making bets and stuff to see if they'll end up together, some girls just ship them really hard.

They're trying so hard to keep it a secret but they are so bad at it.

Me @ every guy who isn't a fictional wizard from the 70s ^^

An: This fluff attempt goes out to you, rip

Rumors

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

cw: A lot of kisses and cursing, stapler mishandling

Masterlist

WC:4181

The halls of Hogwarts were filled with hushed whispers and mindless patter of gossip. The newest topic of the year? 

Professor {L/N}, the newest astronomy hire. An Alchemist who perfected her work through star charting. Lupin had recommended you for the post to assist Sinistra. Mostly, however, you were hired on to assist with the newest project under Dumbledore. With your studies in the North Pole, you were tasked with on and off communications with the centaur herd within the Forbidden Forest. Specifically, their astronomy masters. It was easy, given your track record with magical creatures. Creating a bridge of mutual understanding between the professors and the herd. Dumbledore also saw you valuable to both potions and alchemy class; meaning you met a lot of students very fast.

So almost everyone knew you, you ran a tight ship in class, playful and respectful to the students paired with a charming personality, no one could bring themselves to even hate you.

That's probably how the rumors began, truthfully. Who doesn't want their two favorite teachers to end up together?

Much like Lupin, the students adored you. Hermione especially, after learning of your academic achievements of the past, while being a muggleborn witch. 

Your first reaction to seeing him probably don't help. First few steps into your new place of employment and you hurry over to the only face you cared to recognize, and give him a hug and a thank you for the recommendation. 

It wasn't anything big and it wasn't anything of a spectacle, but Merlin, was Hogwarts boring. The thrill of gossip seemed to have every student in a choke hold. Some said you were both childhood friends turned lovers, some said you were married and it was a scandalous affair, most of the rumors were just students talking about how perfect you both fit together. 

Your caring, funny, and nurturing behavior, to his stern more rugged form of bonding, you were affectionately dubbed ‘mum and dad.’ 

Never to your face however, and mostly by the first and seventh years. Something about growing shame and losing it in your final days of Hogwarts, remarkable.

~~~

“I'm telling you! He looks at her like she is the very stars she teaches us about!” A seventh year sighed dreamily with her friends. She had her chin in her palms and was staring up at the front of class while a few of their classmates took the practical exam. “I wish someone would look at me like that.”

“Really! I haven't seen so much tension between two faculty before! I wouldn't be surprised to find them snogging in the halls!” One of them joked and the other girls laughed.

“Truly, but I saw Professor {L/N} wearing a wedding ring. She took it off and put it in her pocket before class started. I wonder if they are, you know~ Never have I seen Professor Lupin wear one.” She wiggled her eyebrows and the original girl spoke up with a gasp.

“Oh don't you say that! Professor Lupin and Professor {L/N} would never!” She tutted and another voice chimed in, a boy from a seat behind them, making the three turn.

“I heard that they spent Christmas at school together.” Cedric cheeked and the three girls gasped and began to murmur among themselves about it, before Lupin clapped his hands.

He found it a bit amusing, he had let them continue that far. This is what his classes have become, listening to the students muttering about him and you, seeing how close they could possibly get to the truth. Remus, at a fault, was a gossip. He learned to love the thrill of rumors from Sirius and James, but what was better than rumors about you and a colleague? Rumors about you and a colleague that were so close to the truth.

“Right now! Who's next?”

The rest of the class went smoothly, everyone finished their exams and the classroom began to file out. As Lupin got comfortable in his seat, his door peaked open.

“If you are here for tutoring, please note my hours are posted on the door, this first hour has been reserved already.” Lupin called out from his chair, head leaned back. 

“Tutoring, hm?” A song-like voice rang out from the door. He slowly smirked and leaned forward, eyes locking onto yours. You were holding a box of Merlin knows what, walking straight up to his desk with that beautiful smile. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” He teased, voice lower as he stood up and walked around his desk. Looking over your shoulder to peek into the box, seeing several random objects, including a stapler, a retractable ruler, a metal pointing stick, and other random muggle things.

“Oh, totally. I think I remember you almost lost it when Peter asked for your notes.” You teased him and he chuckled, his breath brushing against your neck. He admired the way you seemed to not flinch, but melt into his proximity. 

“Peter was a terrible student.” He mumbled and you laughed, his hand slipping around your waist and leaning down to kiss the side of your neck. You laughed harder and squirmed away. 

“Hands to yourself. Now, show me where I can hide this contraband.” You lifted the box and shook it a bit. “The things they allow in muggle schools! Hmph!” You mused and he laughed, walking you up to his office and to the far back near a storage closet. He opened the door for you and you set the box down, looking around curiously.

The room was small, but big enough for four people to stand in it comfortably. The walls were covered in shelves filled with items from all over the school years, you ran your finger along one of the shelves and let the dust collect.

“What's on your mind, hm?” Lupin mused and you turned to smirk at him.

“Just wondering where they are hiding the really bad stuff. Still in Filtch’s closet?” You hummed as he stepped into the small room with you. His eyes looked you over and you gave him a look.

“Why's that, darling?”

“Just curious, out of all the things in that closet,” You hummed as Remus wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you against him. Your fingers dancing along his shirt collar. “Wonder how many of them were from you and that little gang of yours.” You hummed and he laughed.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. It was chaste and sweet. He loved moments like this, away from everyone, where he could love you properly. He gave a hum as you got on your toes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down as he pulled you closer.

~~~

“I truly don't  think they have something going on. It's maddening really! The whole school seems to see it but me!” Ron groaned as he walked down the hall with Harry and Hermione, seemingly offended at the idea that the new Astronomy teacher was dating or even had interest in Lupin.

"I wouldn't put too much stock in rumors about someone's love life, Ronald," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry Ron, but you're kind of…” Harry rolled his wrists and Ron narrowed his eyes.

“Kind of what?” 

“Kind of..” Harry trailed off.

“Kind of a complete idiot when it comes to love.” Hermione finally snapped, hugging her books to her chest. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet Professor Lupin.” She huffed and stomped off.

Ron was left standing there like an idiot, looking over at Harry. 

“What did I do?”

Harry tried to hide his smile and patted Ron's shoulder to urge him along and out of the halls.

~~~

The kiss had grown a bit heated, Remus pushed you deeper into the closet as he muttered about how badly he needed to have you in his arms. How much he loved you, how he wanted you closer, so impossibly close.

You, of course, returned the sentiment. He was made for your hands it seemed, every moment he wasn't between them made you yearn for just another hour of listless cuddles or moments like this. Sneaking away from responsibilities to show your love and devotion to one another. 

If only it could last longer-

“Professor Lupin?” Hermione's voice called out into his office. Remus cursed and you quickly stumbled back. He cleared his throat, shuffling through the confiscated objects, to find anything he could snag. 

“I'll be out in a moment!” He called back as you fixed his tie and ruffled shirt, he grabbed the first thing he spotted and stole another quick kiss from you before leaving the room.

You leaned against a shelf and watched from the crack of the door in amusement as Lupin hurried to his desk.

“Ms. Granger, I am terribly sorry, is it possible for us to reschedule?” Remus pressed and looked at what he had in his hand.

A stapler.

Why on earth did he grab a stapler?

Quickly he sat at his desk and pulled out a few assignments. Grabbing some he had already graded and began to staple them together. 

Hermione was no fool and he knew that, she stared at him in bewilderment, slowly putting her hands on her books tighter. “Uhm, Professor? Isn't that the stapler Professor {L/N} confiscated from Creevey?” 

Lupin began to staple things a bit quicker, waving her off. 

“Yes, Ms. Granger, I think it would be, but I did borrow it from the confiscated,” He weaned on, collected and poised, a bit too good at putting up a face. Everytime you two have almost been caught, he's shown this side. 

“Why would you possibly need a stapler?” He asked in disbelief.

“To.. staple?” He lifted his eyebrow at her. “I do appreciate your curiosity, but I assure you this is none of your concern.” He spoke idley, having opened the stapler and pressed the top down against the pages and his table. Hermione seemed appalled at the misuse. 

“Now, if you'll please allow me to pick another time-” Before he could finish his statement, he attempted to raise his hand, only for his wrist to be locked in place. He looked down, just to see he had stapled his own sleeve to the desk under a few pages of paper. 

You had to cover your mouth and so did Hermione.

“Uhm, on second thought, sir, I think I'll spend my study hour in the library.” She slowly smirked, turning to briskly walk away.

Remus slowly sunk his face into his hands, the second his classroom door was closed he waved his hand to shut his office door. Only for the room to be filled with your laughter.

You walked out of the room, holding your sides as Lupin lost his front and stared at you with flushed cheeks.

“Not a word-”

“No! No please!” You wheezed out. “Several! Several words must be had!” You doubled over his desk, struggling to get the staple from his sleeves, when you finally managed, you were throwing your head back absolutely lost in boisterous laughter.

Remus wasn't even mad. How could he be? You looked so damn happy. So giddy with joy at the embarrassing show he put on. Quickly, he stood, walking around his desk with a purpose and grabbed your cheeks. You were still struggling to catch your breath as he playfully scoffed at you.

“Not very polite, Professor {L/N}.” He taunted and you grabbed his biceps and clung to him to try and clam down. It didn't help when he leaned down and began to pepper kisses all over your hot face. 

“Mercy!” You wheezed and he shook his head.

“What happened to all those words, Professor?” He teased and you shook your head, giggling as he absolutely mawled you with his lips.

~~~

The Grandhall was lively with the buzz of Sirius Black’s attacks. Managing to get into the Gryffindors’ common room was a feat that bewildered everyone.

However, what everyone was truly talking about was how he broke into the astronomy tower and Professor {L/N}’s office. It had managed to get out that Sirius Black himself left you a note that Dumbledore promptly confiscated. More accurately, the conversation was about how unbothered you were about the news.

That, and how a certain professor reacted to that news. 

He had gone down to the commons with McGonagall to check on Harry and the other students. Only when Flitwick came up in a rush and announced the break in and how you were nowhere to be found, the students watched in horror and shock as Lupin pulled his wand and ran from the towers at a speed they couldn't determine was truly human.

He found you soon after, running down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower, also looking for Harry. He stopped and pulled you into a tight hold no one could see. You were confused at first, but you eventually melted into him. You two were spied on by none other than Colin Creevey, who snapped a photo and was showing it around the lunch table. 

“See! I knew it! What a romantic! Ran straight to her in the face of danger?” One of the seventh years swooned and Ron scoffed.

“I don't get it, it's just two people hugging.” He mumbled and began to poke at his food, the twins giving each other a look before they rushed to tease Ron.

“Two people hugging,” Fred started.

“Hands below the waist!” George chimed in, holding up the photo as if to emphasize his point, gesturing to where Lupin's hands were holding you so tight your heels were slightly off the ground.

“Oh, how scandalous.” Fred concurred and Ron rolled his eyes.

“I hug Hermione, does that make us secretly married?” Ron pushed and Hermione quickly looked down at her book in a slight flush. 

“You wish.” George snickered and Fred clapped his hand on Ron's back, making him cough on his potatoes.

“Really, Ronald dearest, you wouldn't know the difference. You hardly know how to hold a girl now.” He teased and George nodded along.

“You'll get there one day, brother. For now you'll have to trust us.”

“This,” They both pointed this time.

“Is not a normal hug.” Both of them spoke at the same time.

Angelica finally spoke up. “Given the context, that man is whipped. Even if nothing is happening now, he is so in love it's humbling.” She got up and gathered her Quidditch gear.

“Come on boys.”

“Right behind you.” Fred purred and earned himself a look from her over her shoulder, George laughed as the three of them hurried off. Leaving the photo for Ginny to pick up.

“Oh yeah, there is absolutely no platonic explanation for this.” She hummed and tossed it to the center of the table, Neville shrugged, no wanting to contribute. 

“I think that whatever is happening between those two, it's clear they care about each other.” Hermione hummed and Harry finally agreed. Suddenly, he looked at his friends with a look of absolute mischief.

“Do you know how we can find out?” He mused and Hermione gave a groan and Ron shot up in his seat.

“How?”

Harry smirked and pulled out the map the twins had gifted him, showing it off to his friends with a cocky smirk. You had caught him with it days ago, and simply zipped your lips and walked away.

“If they are meeting anywhere, it's likely the astronomy tower.”

~~~

Now.. the plan didn't go exactly as planned.

“And I simply can not comprehend how all three of you continue to be the only Gryffindors I've had to reprimand this year!” Lupin’s voice filled the otherwise silent and empty Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom. Unfortunately for the trio, who were out far past curfew, Lupin just so happened to be on his way to the Astronomy tower when he spotted them seemingly just on time for his arrival.

“What about my brothers?” Ron muttered before Hermione shot him a look, elbow jabbing his side.

“Ronald.” She hissed.

The entirety of Hogwarts Valley had been buzzing with the news of Sirius Black’s newest escapade into the castle and Lupin could not comprehend why the three thought it was a good idea to do everything but what they were told. 

“Safety comes first and for me to find you lot outside of your dorms with a murder on the loose? With this bloody-” Lupin began to lift the map before his eyes snapped up at the sound of his door opening. He quickly shut his mouth when he saw you peak into the dark space.

“Remus?” You called out, before you paused and stared at the four infront of you. Your mind firing off a million excuses in quick succession. “Oh, I was unaware you had company.”

Lupin sighed and rubbed his face, seeming to untangle himself from the thralls of his anger. It wasn't uncommon for you two to find eachother late at night like this, but was certainly not the greatest idea of his yet- reprimanding the trio when he knew you'd be coming. As you always did when he didn't meet you at the Astronomy tower as promised. His favorite part of the end of a stressful day was a night full of whispers, stories and playful remarks. Reminiscing on your school years while recreating some memories long forgotten after the war. This time, not in his dorm, but his office or your room. “It's quite alright. I can still review your lesson plans.”

He was a terrifyingly good liar. That should not be attractive.

“Right. I will be in your office, Lupin.” You remarked and began to walk past the group of three who looked at you like you might save them. Sorry kiddos- he was grumpy enough as it was. 

You gave them a grimace, glancing at the map before quickly looking away with wide eyes and hurrying over to the office. Lupin caught the look and held up his hand. “Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and slowly turned to face him. Giving him your adorable nervous look that you knew didn't work on him- well, you tried.

He made a come hither motion and you walked over, ready to be lectured like the kids beside you. He held up the map and you gave a nervous smile. 

“What? However, did you find this, Harry? This is supposed to be in Flinch’s office!” You gave the worst and most unbelievable fake disappointed tone, hands on your hips and frowning down at the three. You struggled not to smile as Harry gave a small one, before laughing a bit. Hermione covered her face in a mix of fluster and secondhand embarrassment. Ron was grinning ear to ear. 

“{L/N}...” Lupin warned and you huffed.

“You got me in trouble with the big boss here, Harry.” You teased and he finally cracked his lips into a brighter smile. You looked back at Remus and slowly interlocked your fingers in front of your lips, as if it did anything to hide your face. “In my defense-”

“You three are dismissed.” He mused quickly and slammed the paper on the table beside him. You tried your best to hide your smile. It was hard to take him seriously when you have seen him panic and staple his sleeve to a desk. The trio hurried to shuffle out, Harry sent you a greatful look and you simply winked at him. Something Remus rolled his eyes at.

“Did you see Harry with the map?” He asked in a stern tone when the kids left. You looked away and tried to look a little regretful. 

“It's very possible.” 

“And you didn't think to take it?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

“I mean, it certainly crossed my mind.” You slowly stopped hiding your smile and looked back to the taller man who was taking a few steps into your space.

“And you didn't?” He pushed.

“Well, in all fairness, Rem. It is technically his.” You snarked back finally and Remus gave a bitter laugh. 

“Professor {L/N}, did you think that maybe if this map fell into the wrong hands it could cause a serious danger to Harry?” He pushed and you clicked your tongue. You knew who he was talking about. A conversation you've had a million times, well, more an argument. It got worse when he heard of the note.

He was so willing to believe Sirius Black to be a killer, while you believed Sirius could bring himself to the point of ending someone's life, James Potter was more than a human to him. Even with his plea of guilty, you couldn't believe it. James, Lily, and Harry? You would stake your life on it. He was innocent.

It was what you were looking for, an explanation, hopefully that was what the note was for. But unlike your communications with the magical creatures of the forest, Dumbledore was not so willing to give up information when he had it. The old prick-

“I hate when we talk about this.” You huffed in honesty and leaned back on one of the desks of the room. He sighed through his nose and pinched the bridge that connected it to his forehead. “Honey-”

“Ah ah ah! Honey is for marriage.” You mused and he did his best to fight the smile growing on his face. Easily letting you steer the conversation from his own negative thoughts, he hated being upset around you. “That so?”

“It's very so. More so than most so’s.” You hummed and he blinked a few times at you before he couldn't help but smirk. 

“Give me my mother's ring back then.” He mused and held out his hand. You have a faux gasp. 

“Excuse you, sir. I seem to remember your mother telling you this belonged to me.” 

“When we were 18!” He challenged, letting himself fall victim to your antics. Like school children. “And last I checked, your reaction was less then pleasant.”

“We had been dating for a year and I was going to the North Pole in my defense, tart boy.” You scoffed and cringed at the memory. How you practically fall out of your chair when Hope made a comment about her ring. 

“Tart boy?”

“Tart boy.”

“I'll show you a tart boy.” He scoffed and took your cheeks. You giggled like a goofball, grabbing his lapels and trying to pull him closer. He smirked at you and kept his distance.

“Remus-” You huffed and glared at him a bit. His smirk only grew as he reached into your pocket, pulling out the modest gem. You rolled your eyes fondly and held out your hand for him, he slipped the ring back in its rightful place.

“Sorry, call me old fashioned. But I'd like to kiss my fiancé, not my coworker.” He teased and you couldn't help but laugh. 

“You absolute sap.”

“Hard not to be.” He mumbled and leaned in, finally kissing you. Both your eyelids lowered but he held eye contact. So much affection bumbling in your chests, it was too much to look away. Eventually, you gave into your shyness, closing your eyes. He slowly pushed your knees apart and slipped between them, making your face grow hot.

He pulled away at this and you huffed, he smirked at you when you looked back up at him. “Hey, sir, your lips on mine again. It's a marital duty and all that jazz.”

“Thought we had to be married for marital privileges, honey?” 

“Oh don't use anything I say around you against me, I can hardly think.”

He bellowed out a laugh at your mischievous look up at him. Slowly biting your lip as you struggled to keep your confident act up.

“Whatever will I do with you, {L/N}?”

“Well, I have a few ideas.” You hummed and began to fiddle with his tie. He curled an eyebrow and you looked forward, looking up at his hazel eyes with a playful pout. “Kiss me again. I promise, you keep my lips occupied, no more bad behavior.”

“Because you won't be able to talk?” 

“Precisely.”

“What in the world!?” You suddenly heard from the far corner of the room. Your face filled with shock and snapped over to see an empty corner, you could of sworn you heard Ronald just a moment ago.

 Remus quickly moved from between your legs and waved his wand, yanking off the invisibility cloak to reveal an appalled Ron, a delighted Harry, and a flustered Hermione.

“Bloody hell!” Remus boomed and you covered your mouth and looked away. Doing your best not to laugh.

“Yes, mum and dad do kiss when the kids are away.” You cheeked and Remus looked at you like you had just made some grand offense to his ears.

Hermione giggled and Harry’s smile grew ten fold.

Ron, however, seemed very displeased.

“I owe the twins so much money.”

[cringefailkralie]

ridiculously long list of things i’ve noticed about thomas grant and adam wadsworth’s portrayals of albus and scorpius

sorry in advance if this is messy, i wrote this at like 4am

albus flinches away when james steps too close to him!!!

when scorpius asks albus whether he prefers albus or al, he doesn’t have to think about his answer. instead he just looks shocked that someone was actually asking that, like nobody’s ever considered his feelings before. makes me feel like he’d been waiting his entire life for someone to actually ask him that.

tom’s albus doesn’t cry during the fight with harry like i’ve seen a lot of the other actors do. he just stares blankly ahead of him and completely shuts down. i’m head over heels in love with this choice because it really hammers home how hard it is for albus to express his feelings or communicate with anyone.

albus’s reaction to the love potion really really makes me believe that ron intended it to be a mean gay joke. even if ron didn’t intend for it to come across that way, that’s definitely what albus takes it as.

scorpius is just staring vacantly at a wall before he spots albus on the train in their 4th year. not sure if this is a specific acting choice or if i’m just reading into it too much?

they hold hands for a second and stand with their faces an inch away from each other as soon as they duck into their train compartment. their body language in private is so different from their body language in public.

albus squeezes his eyes closed when they hug. he really needed that physical affection but he hates anyone but scorpius being near him.

scorpius puts his hand on albus’s chest when the train starts moving. nothing to say about that its just really gay.

my favorite delivery of “oooo a quiz… WIZZO!!!” i fucking love how he does jazz hands when he says it, especially because it’s the second time he does jazz hands in that scene. he’s so me.

albus does so many little hand gestures in this scene, he’s way more comfortable being expressive around scorpius. he almost mirrors scorpius’s stupid little mannerisms.

bonus- not scorbus related but craig is first seen wearing his beanie on the train during the this sequence (where albus and scorpius decide to run away)!! idk if they don’t do this in other productions or if i just hadn’t ever picked up on it before, but it’s a really cute detail. does anyone know if he canonically got it when he became head boy?

when amos first tells them to leave, scorpius grabs onto albus’s sleeve

not even technically them but the ron and harry actors grab onto each other sooooo much (as albus and scorpius)

in love with how long scorpius hold out his “WIIIIIIIZZZOOOO” and how albus tries to match his energy with the “DOUBLE WIZZO”

delphi steals scorp’s little phrases and his awkward way of speaking and his mannerisms to try and appeal to albus because she knows that he reeeeally likes him- and i hate hate HATEEEE how she makes him feel like a freak for being himself when all the while she’s stealing his personality. scorpius plays with the fabric of his sweater and then fidgets with his hands after she tries to make him feel left out in the forbidden forest and i can FEEL what he’s feeling through the screen.

scorpius is JEALOUS jealous of delphi and when he talks to her his voice is quiet and monotone, which is the most un-scorpius thing ever. i love it. you can feel how much he hates her. i hate her too, this delphi is despicable. (very talented actress!!)

when scorpius tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of them to look at albus and say “you’re my best friend” (which is crazy enough on its own) he talks in a really sweet, low voice before returning really quickly to his normal scorp-voice, as if he was afraid to let albus think about what had just happened

albus jumps up and down with excitement when they announce the triwizard tournament. he starts and then has to stop himself from cheering for hogwarts. funny that a guy who was just saying how much he hates hogwarts would do a thing like that.

everyone around scorpius gets startled when he starts cheering for krum because his screaming is so weird lmao

at the end of the scene where albus tells scorpius they’ll be better off without each other, scorpius just slumps over on the steps and stays there for the ENTIRETY of the next scene until he eventually gets wheeled off with the stairs. it looks like he’s fiddling with something? maybe his wand? maybe just his hands?

obviously the staircase ballet is the staircase ballet, but the way they look at each other is just AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHH

at the end of the ballet scorpius steps towards albus first, but albus is the one who reaches his hand out and slinks down onto the steps

obsessed with that gay little purse scorpius carries the time turner in

delphi gets scorpius to let his guard down during their conversation and scorpius starts talking like himself in front of her again!!!

albus does the little puke-gag-joke-thing in the library to try and make scorpius feel better </3

they’re both fidgeting with their hands throughout their whole conversation :(

ALBUS’S LITTLE GIGGLE WHEN SCORPIUS AGREES TO COME WITH HIM TO FIX TIME

this isn’t specific to this production but scorpius’s shoes are one of my favorite details. in the normal world, he wears big clunky shoes to showcase his awkwardness, whereas in the dark dimension he wears running shoes!! evil scorp is athletic!!!

the second “im fighting for albus” that comes out of scorpius’s mouth is said almost entirely to himself

their little hug in the water :,)

i LOVE LOVE LOVE that scorpius tries to hug draco and he pushes him away and throws his jacket at him in such a cold manner. it makes their hug near the end feel so much more important to their relationship. as soon as we meet scorpius he immediately refers to himself as having daddy issues and we don’t see nearly enough of that in this play.

bonus p2- one of my favorite parts of this show is the in trouble again number!!! i love the background gang and all of their little scenes like this. craig being a little gossip monger is funny as shit!!!! it gives him so much personality and makes his death that much sadder :(

the delivery of “scorpius….. he matters to me…. you know that don’t you?” is INSANE. tom grant delivers all of the coming out adjacent lines so perfectly.

i love how scorpius moves his body. he waves his arms around in the air so often.

scorpius tickled albus lmao they’re so weird

when scorpius talks about hating the other world, albus throws in “apart from polly chapman fancying you” quite bitterly and scorpius almost completely cuts him off. he doesn’t acknowledge what he said in any way shape or form and albus seems to notice that he’s not interested in polly.

scorpius rubs his socks on the floor while he talks :3

the choice to have scorpius move from his bed to albus’s bed and pull albus’s blanket into his lap when he tells him that he changed himself back for him is so AAAUGHHH

AND SCORPIUS DOES THE SAME THING THAT HE DID EARLIER AGAIN!!! he gets all quiet and sweet when he’s sort of admitting his feelings to albus and then all of a sudden he stands up and goes back to his normal loud voice

“MALFOY THE UNANXIOUS IS A PRRRRRETTY GOOD LIIIIAAAR”

delphi mocking scorpius and him immediately tensing up oh he hates her ass so much

scorpius reaches out to try and intercept albus handing delphi the time turner and albus giggles at scorpius because he’s happy she’s not extremely pissed at them

scorpius holds onto the railing right up until he gets his hands bound together because he’s afraid of heights. thought it was cute that adam chose to do this even though his fear of heights isn’t mentioned anywhere in this version.

i LOVE the torture scene in this version. albus is stone faced when delphi is threatening to torture him and then he IMMEDIATELY falls to his knees begging and pleading when she turns toward scorpius.

delphi is quite literally outing albus in this scene. the silence after she says that love is his weakness and points to scorpius is SO long and SO loud omg. it’s quite literally ten whole seconds (i counted) of albus and scorpius just looking at each other. it genuinely feels like she just spilled out what he’s been keeping inside of himself for so long, it’s gutwrenching. i guess they did just watch craig die so they do in fact have bigger problems, but you can see albus’s heart stop beating and its so terrible.

i love how albus turns to scorpius when the stationmaster starts unintelligibly talking to them like “hey, you’re doing the talking rn just so you know”

i’m obsessed with how excited scorpius is to tell albus all about the history of the place they’re in. in love with his little gasps at everything he sees and his jump when he says “SQUEAK!”

albus motioning for scorpius to stop when he’s demonstrating how to scream for help lmaoooo

albus pointing with both hands at scorpius while they try to come up with a plan is so cute. albus believes in him so much.

i love how scorpius keeps hugging draco even as he’s talking

their foreheads are literally brushing against each other my god these bitches gay

albus asks “and thats who you want in your palace?” in an almost panicked way like he’s afraid scorpius doesn’t feel the same way about him.

albus holds onto scorpius’s shoulders while rose tries to reassure them that they didn’t just get walked in on lmao

3rd and final instance of scorpius trying to change the subject- asking immediately about quidditch so albus doesn’t get the chance to say anything related to what just happened

scorpius says “come on” like he’s trying to get albus to come cut a rug with him at a middle school dance

obsessed with their little gagging and puking bit and how they made it a callback to what albus does in the library

maybe my favorite hug moment from any scorbus duo. i love how albus initially reacts with shock but then melts into it and closes his eyes, only pulling away to make sure he’s not reading the situation entirely wrong (he’s not)

my favorite ending scene by far. the coming out hits SO hard. the way albus fiddles with his zipper and scrunches up his sleeve in his hand, you can tell how absolutely terrified he is of saying this to his dad. the line delivery is genuinely fantastic. the more he pauses the longer you have to take it all in- and he pauses a LOT.

okie thanks for reading!!!!!

[wheneclipsefalls]

Grovel: Part 1

Pairing: Aged Up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Summary: Lo'ak broke your heart all those years ago. If he plans to woo you once more it is going to take a lot more than a debonair grin.

Warnings: angst, aged up Lo'ak, future NSFW, broken hearts, cheating, swearing, etc.

A/N: I wrote the majority of this in a couple hours so.....it's rough.

You prayed to Eywa it would fit. Getting Lo’ak’s measurements without him becoming suspicious had been a job in and of itself, but now it was sure to pay off. With your relationship being kept on the down low there were truly only a few ways you could publicly show your affection for the youngest Sully brother. Creating this arm band for him had been a delight and had set butterflies off in your stomach. 

There was something about the notion of forbidden love that had your heart racing at every moment the two of you stole together. It was new and exciting but even more than that it was a risk that made you feel alive. 

It was hard to believe that the two of you had gone from lifelong frenemies to lovers in only a few months. Of course the greatest level of intimacy you had shared were a few tender kisses and snuggling embraces. Lo’ak had  been your first kiss, sweeping you off your feet until every other ignorant young male had paled in comparison. 

Since then there had been no hope for your young heart to resist. It was everything and more that you had dreamed of since you were a child hearing of your parent’s own love story. Love had been found in the most unexpected of people but it was true. You could no longer deny how hard and fast you had fallen for the male. And tonight you were finally going to tell him. 

With a courting gift worthy for the mightiest of warriors your love would be proclaimed and hopefully his own would be there to reciprocate. 

A jittering tingle raced down your arms and legs, pushing you to run faster through the forest. It was a miracle you didn’t throw up from the motion after the way your own nerves had tied your stomach into knots. However, running gave your pent up energy somewhere to go and now more than ever you needed a release. Lo’ak didn’t know the two of you were meeting today.

That’s what made it all the better.

A perfect surprise the trickster himself would never see coming. 

He would be under the Tree of Souls as he always was in the afternoons, the place where he claimed to have his best thoughts. Someday he would surely tell you what those thoughts were but today you prayed his mind would be full of you. Just the way the bastard always managed to cram himself into every nook and cranny of your mind. It seemed only fair that he suffered the same. 

Light still prevailed but new colors painted the sky as Eclipse came inched closer.The tendrils of Vitraya Ramunong were already beginning to shimmer from where they hung. 

Your cheeks hurt from smiling when you spotted his slim form, even as your own knees trembled with anticipation. 

Just play it cool, you reminded yourself. There was no reason to worry so long as you managed to get out three little words. The intricate beads of the arm band started to create imprints in your palm from how tight you held it. 

One last steadying breath before you scaled down the tree trunk. A giggle almost escaped your throat when you had the brilliant idea to sneak up on him. Last week he had given you quite the scare while you were weaving a basket. Now would be the perfect time for payback.

“It’s so beautiful!”

Your feet scraped against the bark into a halt. 

“I told you this is the best time to come here.” Lo’ak responded and he wasn’t alone. From this new vantage point you could now see a smaller female figure behind him, her eyes casted upwards at the enchanting view of the Tree of Soul’s increasing glow. 

“Yes but I thought that was only your way of getting me alone.” Those long lashes fluttered back at him, a playful smile sweeping over her lips. Lo’ak shrugged, an ever familiar smirk lacing his own. 

“So what if it was? I didn’t see you putting up much of a fight.” 

“The best predators know the importance of giving their prey a false sense of security.” Her eyes danced with a maturity so beyond her years it was almost vulgar. Lo’ak’s tail whipped back and forth, eating up every taunting seduction from the palm of her hand. 

“Well I only let the prettiest girls catch me in their webs.” 

The distance was closed between them with only a few steps before she was reaching up on her toes and dragging him into a sinful kiss. One oh so different from the type you two had shared. A sensual kiss that you had only heard of but never experienced. And that was one thing you could tell from this other female, she wielded so much more power and experience than you ever could. 

Still that wasn’t what mattered because when they finally pulled apart for gasps of air it was sweet promises of affection and future mating that poured from Lo’ak’s lips. 

The same vows that had been clutching your heart over the past few months.

The same lullabies that filled your dreams with fantasies of your lives together. 

Today, they sang for her instead. 

You were foolish to think they ever belonged to you, nothing more than a beautiful mirage your first love had woven to snatch you up. 

A small sob alerted them to your presence. Eyes wide you only stared back at him for a moment before bolting to the trees.

The crafted armband abandoned on the ground. 

Lo’ak had always been a pain in the ass. There was no better way to describe him. Not when he was your childhood nuisance turned to first love to then first heartbreak. The day his family left for Awa'atlu you tried to stay strong. At that point things had already been ruined between you. His player nature had been exposed and the male had only a week of trying to explain himself before the incident happened and the Sully family left the Omatikaya for good. 

Or at least, what you thought was for good. 

Their return had been something that many had hoped for but one that you had never allowed yourself to believe. Even when you were still in the mourning stages of your relationship and their disappearance you had fortified one single idea in your mind. Lo��ak leaving was for the best. It would allow you to move on.

And so you had. Taking much longer than you would have liked but slowly your hammock dried of tears and you began to focus on other things outside of the youngest Sully boy. Your foolish young heart had grown strong in wisdom and might. Your skills as a healer had become more polished with every day you spent under Mo’at’s instruction. Adulthood came and fell upon you in a way that suited your new talents and attitude. Not a day passed where you weren’t seeking to support the clan and People in one way or another. 

Tarsem was a wonderful Olo’eyktan. He led the People with the necessary vision and courage it took to keep the Sky People out of your lands. Some days came with great losses, exposing you to more curious injuries by their machines than you could have imagined in the healer’s tent. However, those days you took with pride too. The Omatikaya never lost heart. They never gave up on protecting their home. 

You weren’t the only ones either. Stories of battling demon ships traveled overseas, ingraining the memory of mighty Metkayina defending their lands and conquering against all odds. Each time those stories found their way to the fire’s circle you had tried not to envision Lo’ak’s part in all of it. Some days were easier than others. And yet some you couldn’t shake the visual of the warrior that you patched up in front of you being a certain Sully boy and not another Omatikaya warrior. It frustrated you to no end the lengths of your care for him but over time you made peace with the fact that his death was never announced.

And that was good enough.

Because that fact was the only one he had deserved for you to care about and nothing more.  

It had taken years, the battle shaping so much of your shift from adolescence into adulthood. When all was said and done, however, the Sky People burned the forest with their demon ships one last time and then they too became nothing more than a star in the night sky. A celebration unlike any other had immediately gone underway. Your older sister, Talu, could hardly breathe with how many beaded and feathered tops she had been commissioned to construct for various men and women in the clan. 

Your own work had graciously slowed down and for the first time since perhaps the day those demons invaded Pandora, you relaxed. 

Peace was not yours to be had, however. 

You had been halfway through washing in the hot springs when the news had come. The Sully family was set to return by the night of the celebration. And not to visit but to reclaim the throne and be herded back as one of the Omatikaya once more and forever. The shrieking females that had run to tell their other friends didn’t seem to notice when you accidentally swallowed and choked on a mouthful of spring water. 

They were too busy hypothesizing what the Sully brothers would look like now. Some even made bets on whether or not they would be returning home unmated. The conversation had been the opposite of peace, prompting you to sneak away and have your panic attack in the privacy of your own home. 

“Will you stop squirming for one minute?” Talu reprimanded but an amused giggle laced her voice. 

“Ma Talu, please tell me you are almost done.” Another pearl was carefully strung through your long wavy hair. 

“Art takes time.” She smiled softly. “And that’s what you are. A magnificent piece of art.” 

Talu had not necessarily been wrong in her statement. After the countless hours she had put into constructing your curved top out of rare gems and strung your hair with bioluminescent pearls, you had transformed into something of ethereal beauty. And yet, the last thing you wanted was to stand out. What had started as a celebration to be anticipated had for you turned into a nightmare just waiting to happen. 

Eywa had given you three days to prepare for tonight. Three whole days where you had solidified your resolve and reminded yourself that Lo’ak Sully was no longer anyone but another clan member to you. You were going to be cordial and respectful like you would another clan brother but no flicker of even remembering your past with him. Not a single mention of how he had shattered your young heart into a million pieces and left you there to weave it back together for years. 

The old you was dead and with that so was your relation to him. 

It still didn’t ease your dread however. As Na’vi of all ages gathered around hometree and looked to the skies, you had scrambled to look for an excuse to be elsewhere. The air buzzed with excitement and every yip and call in anticipation felt like the chiming of a clock to you. One second closer to facing a part of your past you had buried too deep. 

Talu had been immersed in the excitement with everyone else. You had never told her of Lo’ak’s betrayal. Even on the night you found him kissing another girl under Vitraya Ramunong you had fled to cry alone in the woods. Truth be told you had never even told her of the relationship in the first place. It had been something of a secret between the two of you and one that Lo’ak had insisted upon. Of course the truth of why that was important to him had eventually come to light. 

Talu yelled and jumped with the others as the far ikrans dotted the horizon. Perhaps she would ask where you had wandered off to later but you had time to think of an excuse. No one had even noticed your absence as you seeked refuge in the depths of Eywa’s forest. The clan had burst into such a ruckus that it took a good distance to turn that shrieking into a distant rumble. 

You had escaped in just the knick of time. 

The small glowing river fish had swirled around the branch you glided through the water for what felt like hours. It was calming, spending time with creatures that knew nothing of your demise. Still, you couldn’t hide forever. Talu was sure to be looking for you and it was customary to take part in clan events, especially ones as momentous as this. 

So many years had already passed and your growth had been profound. Lo’ak had no right to make you scatter and hide like a timid prey. Besides, he most likely would not remember you in the first place. So with that perspective he did not deserve to be remembered either. 

Na’vi of all ages bounded and danced with such fervent zeal it could only be described as instinctual. Joy radiated from every pore and each movement was honored as another prayer of gratitude to the Great Mother. Naer [Alcohol] of the finest quality was freely passed and taken until laughter bounced from the trees. Of course the most elaborate and breathtaking attire was worn by clan members, especially those who remained unmated. 

Surely post war would be a time for many such pairings to come about and furthermore the ideal moment to start a family. 

You shook your head at the thought. It was a charming idea and you had been with more than your fair share of men intimately since reaching maturity but now was not the right time for you. Even then, the right male had not deigned to present himself yet. 

Color drained from your cheeks when you finally spotted Talu. Her eyes sparkled with happiness in the moonlight and cheeks ached from smiling so much but she was not alone. A tall figure faced her, leaned against a tree trunk with crossed ankles. Immediately you recognized the specific pattern of jagged stripes that covered his skin. 

However, that was perhaps the only thing you recognized from Lo’ak. He had grown. Grown oh so much and you knew he would have, but not like this. Somehow a part of you had still expected the same beanpole of a fourteen year old to show up. Now…Lo’ak had grown in stature in a way that only a Metkayina could. His build was accentuated with thick biceps and broad shoulders that only further brought out the contrast of his tapered waist. 

It was as if your eyes were playing tricks on you, searching to find where that lanky boy had gone to leave behind this sculpted male. 

His skin was different too. Those stripes you had come to adore during adolescence had now been joined by dark ink. Curious designs lined his side before traveling into swirling patterns that danced over his hips and even outer thighs. Squinting in the fire’s light you could just make out how that ink traveled straight to the band of his loincloth before slipping under. 

No.

Nope. 

That was dangerous territory and simply none of your business. 

Trying to distract your over curious brain you find yourself observing his hair instead. Those two signature braids still hung over his forehead but they were adorned with various objects and shells that you did not recognize. Even more surprising, his decorated braids were tied together as a top knot. It brought out the shape of his jawline and cheekbones, chiseled until they could cut like a knife. 

Life was unfair. If you didn’t know it before you surely knew it now because how else could this traitor grow to be so impeccably handsome? Such an enchanting mix of two cultures swirled into one male at his prime. 

Your teeth grinding was cut short by a firm hand around your bicep.

“Come, child.” Mo’at sternly directed. She didn’t offer an explanation as you were led to the front of the celebration but you knew better than to ask for one. 

Mo’at lined up every healer in front of the ravenous crowd. All it took was one hand in the air to silence the commotion. All eyes turned to their Tsahik. 

“My People,” She called in a boisterous voice. “We gather together tonight in thanks of our Great Mother. By her will, we have prevailed as a People with strong hearts. By her mercy, the balance of life has been restored.” The crowd broke out into a chorus of calls and yips that rumbled the forest. 

“In gratitude we must not grow weary. Our hearts forever imprinted with the memory of what has been sacrificed. To this I call upon you to look at your brothers and sisters and rejoice! See all that they have given.” The yelling increased tenfold and you swallowed that lump in your throat. You are not about to cry in front of the entire clan. 

“I thank those especially who stand before us.” The focus shifted to fall upon you and the other handful of healers to your left and right. Even with the attention born between the group of you, it still weighed heavy. “Those who have stitched our wounds and lightened our sorrows. As Eywa herself has taught us, there is nothing that can not be mended by gentle hands.” 

Mo’at stood now between you and another healer, one hand placed on her shoulder and the other on yours. As the cheers bellowed into the sky, you caught a glimpse of Talu pointing you out as Lo’ak leaned forward. She said something you could neither understand nor wanted to know. Gaze forced away by pure will, you barely escaped seeing when Lo’ak’s gaze finally pinned you down. 

It didn’t matter, though.

Not when those golden orbs burned like liquid fire through your veins.

There were so many people you could occupy your time with. At this point you were willing to talk to Neteyam if it meant avoiding his younger brother. Pushing through the crowd was more difficult than you anticipated but you prayed that it would be enough to keep Talu and her new friend at bay too. 

“Ma Neteyam,” You hastily greeted, signing ‘I see you’ as he turned to face you. It was a miracle you had even been able to recognize the eldest Sully in the first place with his new tattoos and metkayina clothing. 

“Ma Y/N.” Although surprised, he returned the gesture with a polite smile. “You look well, sister.” 

His voice was so much lower than you remembered. 

“As do you.” An awkward silence threatened to settle between you and if you wanted to ward off potential advances you needed this to appear as enthralling as possible. “That is a charming necklace. What is it made of?” Your dainty fingers shakily came to thumb over the obscure object. To Neteyam’s credit, he only barely flinched at your unexpected touch. 

“A special sea glass from Awa’atlu. Some beaches are littered with them.” 

“Wow, that is fascinating.” It wasn’t. Any other day it might have been but you couldn’t focus enough to appreciate it fully. 

“That little piece is truly nothing once you’ve seen the whole beach.” This voice rumbled at your back, just close enough to feel his body heat prickle your skin. Your composure was not easily won over but it was forced into place just as you were forced to finally face him.

“Sister, we have been looking all over for you. Such a busy body.” Talu nervously laughed but one look told you that she knew about your earlier ditching of festivities. 

“Y/N.” Lo’ak gave you the same gesture of respect, voice gravely and low in a way that had chills racing up your spine. His eyes made contact with your own  for only a second as you returned the polite formalities, eyes shifting to his right shoulder as to feign looking at him properly. 

“Lo’ak.” It came out snippier than you intended, evident in the way his eyebrows turned down at the edges. 

“I apologize for my absence. I was…caught up.” Lo’ak’s tail flickered at the last part but a charming grin still stretched across his lips. Stepping out of his line of fire you divulged a distraction by initiating Talu and Neteyam’s greetings. This way you were able to take some much needed steps away from Lo’ak and focus primarily on the other members present. 

Neteyam and Talu filled the conversation easily, only requiring a few additions from you upon occasion. Even when it waned into subjects you were far from interested in, your body remained braced and alert as if you were swallowing every word said. The perfect defense against meeting Lo’ak’s gaze again. Even a protection against drooling over his muscular physique that had surely been carved by Eywa. 

“Well I shouldn’t leave my sister.” That snapped you out of your daze immediately. 

“She can dance with Lo’ak.” Neteyam smiled, as if he hadn’t just granted your worst nightmare come true. And to him he hadn’t because when you stuttered to find a response that reaction was only seen as adorable nerves. One that Lo’ak quickly stepped in to charm away. 

“Do not worry, tanhi. I’ve learned to not trip over my feet now.” And he grinned. That bastard had the audacity to jest and tease like the two of you had been old friends. Talu sent you a pleading look, one that said you would never hear the end of this if you didn’t play a good wingwoman right now. There was little that could be done about it now as he led you into the crowd. 

Lo’ak was true to his word. He had become quite the dancer, enough so that your own actions could easily follow his lead. When your hands occasionally brushed you tried to sweep them away as soon as possible. 

“You’ve grown.” 

“What?” You shouted back over the banging drums and he laughed in response.

“I said you have grown up, tanhi. Can’t believe it.” His fangs peeked out as he grinned, so carefree and genuine it sent your mind racing. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Well that happens.” You answered shortly, strategically choosing now to swerve into a spin. Anything to avoid his gleeful expression. 

“I mean yes of course but I just didn’t think it was possible for you to become even more beautiful.” 

The spin grinded to a halt. Lo’ak stopped dancing too but where his expression flitted with flirtatious amusement your own was nothing but pure ice. It cut through him until that smirk was wavering. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” The heaving drumming was a welcomed source of privacy, distracting the others from your rage. Everyone besides Lo’ak, whose brows knitted before letting out a short laugh. 

“Um yes? I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” 

“Oh I wouldn’t put it past you.” Bitter and harsh like the look in your eyes, Lo’ak was taken aback. 

You didn’t give him time to recover, however as you slipped past the other dancing Na’vi. Lo’ak caught up easily, long legs keeping him right on your heels. 

“Woah woah hey, y/n. Where are you going?” 

“Away from you. I don’t have time for this.” 

He caught your arm when the two of you had just reached the outskirts of the celebration. Hois hand was slapped away but that didn't stop him from blocking your escape. 

“Time for what? I’ve just missed you is all.” 

“Missed me?” His words were so infuriating that you found your own sputtering to form sentences. Was it possible he suffered a brain condition? Memory loss? How else could he stand before you now and pretend that the last note the two of you had left off on had not been him shattering your heart. “You….” Another steadying deep breath in. “You think that after what you put me through that you could come back in and sweep me up for a hook up?”

Lo’ak shuffled backwards slightly, away from your accusing finger. 

“Tha-”

“Or maybe you have already forgotten what happened. I’m sure it would be easier to ignore how you acted like the clan’s whore while spewing promises to me.” 

His jaw dropped, all evidence of that confidence swept away.

“Well in case you’ve forgotten, you’ve already screwed over this girl so cross me off your list.” 

It seemed that his brain was lagging because this time when you shuffled around him you weren’t immediately cut off. Still, it appeared he had maintained his forest legs because he didn’t struggle to make up for lost ground. 

“Y/n, I didn’t….” He sighed through his nose. “It’s just that….that was so long ago. I didn’t even know how much of that you remembered.” 

“Excuse me?” You wheeled back on him, taking secret pleasure in the way Lo’ak did in fact trip over his feet this time. He recovered quickly but there was a frazzled energy to his movements. 

“No, no! Shit I…. that came out wrong.”

You save him the trouble of trying to string together an explanation. It was worth neither of your times not to mention how silly you felt for bringing it up in the first place. What did it matter after all these years? Nothing. That is what you had always told yourself and his appearance was not going to change that. 

“Lo’ak, mawey. You’re right it was a long time ago so let’s just put it behind us and make one thing clear.” His ears perked, eyes rounded as it appeared the very breath in his lungs became stagnant. “We are not friends. I’m happy for you and your family but only in the way everyone else is happy for your return. You stay in your lane and I will stay in mine. That way, everyone is happy.” 

“Not everyone.” He murmured, ears pressed flat against his braids. 

There was a flicker of hope present in his eyes, as if waiting for you to spontaneously forget the past and welcome him with open arms. You hoped your speedy exit was enough to blow that flame out.

This is my random little story I've been working on to keep my mind off the break up. If you like it, please let me know and I will continue to work on and post the next parts:)

unofficial tag list: @pandoraslxna @pandoraslovesworld @faintfill @rivatar @neteyamssyulang

[ashley-is-tired-af]

You are in Love

Mattheo x reader

Warnings : brief mention of drugs.

Hey guys, I've never actually posted fanfiction on this website, but I'm not a stranger to writing it- no I will not let you track down my cringy middle school AO3 content. I've never written for this fandom before, but it and this character have really been an obsession of mine recently. This is a short little fic I wrote about you realizing you're in love with Mattheo. Lyrics from the song You Are in Love by Taylor Swift.

~~~~~~~

You were sitting in the library, studying for the upcoming Herbology exam. The last one had kicked your butt, how were you supposed to memorize all those different plants? To say the least, you couldn’t afford to do poorly on this next one. So here you had been all afternoon, studying away so you could hang out with your friends later. The library was silent, the only sounds were the scratching of feathers on parchment, flipping pages and the occasional half stifled cough. With how quiet it was you’d think you’d have heard him sneaking up behind you. Hearing the mug hit the table you looked up from the mandrake diagram you were so desperately trying to memorize. Your eyes landed on the cup of tea and followed the hand up to meet the eyes of your boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle. He gave you a smile then sat across from you, pulling out his own homework.

You can hear it in the silence.

You, Mattheo, and your friends sat just inside the forbidden forest at your secret spot. It was a warmer evening, so the gang had decided to grab their coats and pass around the joint. A night of laughter and stories was much needed. The war was looming ever closer and you had all unwillingly become tied up in it. As the night grew long you grew tired and cold. Mattheo, who had noticed at the first yawn, made some excuse for why the two of you had to leave. It almost seemed like he couldn’t wait to get you alone. He grabbed your hand leading you from the forest back toward the castle. You leaned into him, into the warmth. He shook his head and wrapped his arm around you, leading you off to the dormitories.

You can feel it on the way home.

He had led you back to his place, which was not a shock. Recently you had spent more nights here then in your own room. Staying in a room alone with your boyfriend sounded a lot nicer than in your shared room most nights. Not that you didn’t love your roommate. You changed into his sweatshirt and crawled under the covers. Mattheo turned off the lights and slid in next to you. 

After a few hours of slumber you woke up, needing a glass of water. You untangled your body from Mattheo's embrace, trying your best not to wake him. You reach out to the water bottle on your night stand and take a few sips, turning back to the sleeping form of your boyfriend. In the nearly dark room, you could only make out his vague figure, huddled under the blankets. You watched as the blankets rose and fell in time with his breaths, a smile coming to your face.

You can see it with the lights out.

The two of you had yet to say the words, and you didn’t know where he stood on it. But in this moment, you knew.

You are in love.

[corpium]

*whispers* I'm finally doing it. I'm writing Harrymort.

Breath shaking and still disillusioned, Harry waits with his wand out, ready for an attack. To his right, bookshelves line the wall. To his left, a fireplace burns, faced by a pair of plush armchairs. Before him, Voldemort sits behind the desk backed by the bay windows. Harry wonders if they’re spelled to be shatterproof. Squints and sees a web of magic engrained into them.

“Come now, Harry,” Voldemort purrs, wand aimed lazily in Harry’s direction. “Let me see you. This room is much too small for hide-and-seek.”

He’s right, Harry realizes. Hiding now would only serve to irritate him. So Harry, back to the door, ends the charm. Voldemort watches hungrily as it ripples off him, red eyes taking in his gray forearm and the dried, bloody runes peeking out from under Harry’s torn robe sleeves. His gaze climbs upward to linger on Harry’s ragged, mottled throat, making Harry’s tender skin prickle with awareness. His carotid twinges painfully with his heartbeat.

“Come to kill me again, Harry?” Voldemort murmurs. Only after he says it do his inhuman eyes slide up to meet Harry’s.

“Would it stick this time?” Harry asks, equally quiet.

“No.” Voldemort narrows his eyes at him. “Shall I kill you instead?”

“Do you think it would work?” Harry asks. He knows, deep in his bones, in the connection that still pulses with the life of the yew tree, that it wouldn’t. Doesn’t want to think about what that means for his future. 

Voldemort’s eyes drop to his neck once again. “I suspect it would be a useless endeavor…. You are, it would seem, already dead.”

Satisfaction, fully his own this time, tugs at Harry’s lips. “Only a little,” he says.

------------

OR: Harry is the Power He Knows Not, and Voldemort wants.

OR: It's been almost 9 years since I wrote that one steter fic and I am still enamored with the idea of hungry, magical trees and there's a FORBIDDEN FOREST RIGHT THERE HELLOOOO???

---

For once in my fanfiction "career" I'm actually writing the fic in its entirety before I post it. And look, it only took 35k for these two yahoos to have a conversation without attempting to murder each other! Amazing. I'm so proud.

[cloudcountry]

almost.

Genre/Tropes: Childhood Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Royalty AU, Forbidden Love.

Summary: You've fallen for your personal guard, childhood friend, and closet confidante, Deuce Spade. Except you're royalty, and royalty do not marry lowly guards.

Author's Comments: WHEREVER I WRITE FOR DEUCE ITS LIKE 4K WORDS. love that guy, he's so neat. also this was inspired by ceroro's delighted guidance which is a royal au fic with rook!! i wrote this in like a day so this is unedited LMAO

~~~~~

You often fell victim to many bizarre dreams.

They usually centered around the legends your subjects kept alive over centuries. Tales of monsters in the dark parts of the forest and shadows that would swallow you whole. Stories that often frightened you, as the world of Twisted Wonderland was an unpredictable one. There was no telling when something like that would happen, and you would be in danger because of it. Thankfully it wasn’t your responsibility to worry anymore, though your previously self-centered worry now had another target.

Deuce Spade, your childhood friend and appointed guard.

He used to be able to run into your room whenever you screamed and comfort you by waving his hands around and yelling about how he’d beat up anyone that dared to harm you. His mother would often scold him for his violent behavior, but if nothing else it did make you feel safer. Eventually, you were even able to persuade your father to place his family’s room right across from yours, where you and Deuce could hang out whenever you wanted.

If only things could still be that way.

Instead of having dreams about monsters in the woods, you have dreams of faceless royalty vying for your hand and towering over you, their faces splitting open in sickeningly sweet grins as they grab at you. You always seem to wake up in a cold sweat from those, clutching your blankets to your chest like a lifeline. Tonight is one of those nights.

You slip out of bed and throw the bed sheets to the side, the slippers resting at the foot of your bed shielding your feet from the cold. It isn’t hard to navigate your room in the almost complete darkness, and you reach the door in no time flat. The guard currently posted outside your door is not Deuce Spade, but he doesn’t question it when you creep across the hall so he’s fine enough. He just follows you, stopping outside the Spade family’s door without a single indicator as to what he’s thinking.

It doesn’t matter if he thinks I’m pathetic. Deuce doesn’t. His opinion is the only one I care about.

You twist the doorknob and the door swings open. It isn’t safe, you think, but you know people like Deuce and his mother can’t afford to have the amount of protection that you do. The polished wood groans as you step into the room, and you freeze with a wince. Deuce is a notoriously light sleeper, and you just woke him up.

The door swings shut behind you, and shuts with a soft click.

You’re left in darkness.

“Deuce?” you whisper, creeping towards the edge of his bed and crouching down to his level, “Deuce, it’s me.”

“My Liege...why are you awake?” he mumbled, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes, “Did you have another dream?”

“Mhm.” you hum, grasping at the corner of the bedsheets and tugging them off his body, “Let me in. I can’t sleep in my room.”

Deuce sighs and complies, scooting over so you have room. You plop down beside him and feel a wave of warmth wash over you. He takes extra care in tucking you in but turns around so his back is facing you once he’s done making you comfortable. You feel a stab of rejection in your chest but try not to dwell on it.

His duty is not to care about you.

“Goodnight, My Liege.” he whispers, the sound insignificant to him but worth more than a thousand diamonds to you.

“Yes, goodnight Deuce.” you say, shutting your eyes.

It’s disappointing that the distance between you hasn’t changed, even though you snuck across the hall for him.

The next morning you wake up early when Deuce has already slipped out of bed to begin his rounds. You blink slowly, wishing you could have savored sleeping with him a little bit longer. A frantic knocking on the door spurs you awake, and Deuce’s mother rushes to answer it. It’s the guard that covers your late night shift, and by the look on his face, he'd been searching frantically for you. You almost feel bad.

You smile at Deuce’s mother and thank her for letting you stay over so often, but she just shakes her head and bows to you. If the guard wasn’t here, you know full well she would have swept you into her arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

You’re convinced Deuce’s mom is the greatest woman alive.

You exit the safe haven you’ve built up over the years, stepping back into your royal chambers. There’s only so much you can do to hide your exhaustion when you see a few handmaidens and a tailor standing in front of your giant full-length mirror.

Frankly, it’s disturbing how prophetic your dreams can be sometimes.

As the handmaidens talk, it occurs to you that your father must have announced a ball to be held in honor of something or other (not that he ever needs a reason to party anyways, as he will always find a way to throw a party more extravagant than the last.) There’s no doubt in your mind that many suitors from neighboring kingdoms will come to vie for your hand, and it doesn’t matter if your eyes are locked onto one of your guards or not because love is politics in royalty.

There’s a handmaiden currently fluttering around you, and she’s assisting the tailor your father called over to fix an outfit for you. Even though you resent the idea of participating, you can’t help but admire the fabrics that you’ll be wearing for this event. You can’t admire them freely though, because it just so happens that right now is when the late-night guard switches with the early-morning one, and that early-morning guard is none other than Deuce Spade. To make matters worse, because of the guests in your room, he’s stationed inside (which wouldn’t be so bad if you were alone, but if that was the case he would never enter just because.) The thought of him seeing you in all this gaudy fabric makes you feel shameful, even if they are beautiful swatches.

“Oh, My Liege...” one of the handmaidens sighs, clasping her hands in front of her chest as she looks at you adoringly, “You’re going to look so lovely! Everyone will be tripping over their feet to earn a dance with you!”

You don’t look at Deuce. You don’t think you can right now.

“Oh, you think so?” you say mildly, absentmindedly continuing the conversation.

She nods a little too enthusiastically, and you hold back a sigh. Why is everyone so eager to marry you off to the first royal heir that comes knocking on your door?

“Oh, absolutely My Liege!” she beams, her round cheeks turning pink with pride, “I’ve been working for your father for a long time, I’m certain he’ll establish the best future for you!”

Economically, maybe. But emotionally? His understanding is lacking.

“I’m delighted that he’s going such lengths for me. Really, I’m spoiled.” you say through clenched teeth, and you hope your grimace passes for a smile.

Judging by the way the handmaiden is nodding vigorously with hums of approval flooding from your mouth, you’re pretty sure you’ve nailed it.

It’s so hard to ignore Deuce like he’s just another guard, like he isn’t the only one in this palace you can trust. Most of what occurs here is for appearances, but he’s never cared about that sort of thing. Even when you fell in the mud or scraped your knees or got a papercut he never scolded you for being out of line or not acting like royalty. There was no speech about you being the next ruler, he just fixed you up and vowed to protect you better next time. You always thought that was funny when you were a kid, but now you yearn for those days.

Things were so much better back then.

Brow furrowing with sorrow, you can’t help but look at Deuce in the mirror.

Your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes unexpectedly lock with a beautiful pair that look just like the ocean on a sunny day. He’s looking at you.

Your opinion is the only one that matters is what you try to convey to him using only your pleading gaze. I don’t care what the other royals think is pretty or what my father thinks or even the handmaidens. I just want you to think I’m lovely.

You don’t know if he gets the message.

♠️

The ball is in full swing, and you feel like you might pass out.

You put in a formal request for Deuce Spade to be your bodyguard for the event, and you’re glad it was granted. Your mind is running a mile a minute not because you want to impress the dazzling royalty that are spinning around the palace’s ballroom in dresses and suits that would blind a man, but because you keep trying to come up with excuses to leave with Deuce. You don’t want to be here and he knows it, but he can’t do anything about it.

“Oh, I’m so warm.” you sigh loudly, and you feel a sense of accomplishment when Deuce snorts quietly beside you, “I must take a break, I’m sorry Prince Rosehearts.”

“That’s quite alright.” the young boy bows, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here as who you can only assume to be his mother is breathing down his neck, “Take your time, you highness.”

You wave, forcing a smile as you make your way to the gardens. A spike of irritation stabs you at the base of your throat when another prince jumps in your way, his expression bright and happy. He immediately starts yapping about how nice the festivities are as his companion stares into space with a harsh glare. You shiver and pray that glare will never be directed at you tonight.

“Kalim, I’m sure they want to rest.” the boy beside him says flatly, “Why don’t you go sample their drinks, since you’ve already had your fill of their food?”

Wow. That’s the first time you’ve seen a prince and his companion with such a close relationship. They must be childhood friends.

Just like you and Deuce, and yet not like you two at all.

“Oh! That’s a good idea, Jamil!” he laughs, waving goodbye to you with a flimsy bow, “I’ll see you later, your highness!”

You grimace and wave back, hoping that’s not the man your father will have you marry. He seems to be far too much to handle and not quite hard-working enough.

Or maybe you just need to stop comparing every man you see to Deuce.

With the Asim heir out of the way, you continue to the gardens without another interruption. Your shoulders sag with barely masked relief as the flowering bushes come into view. They’re the same bushes you fell into far too many times in your childhood, and the same bushes Deuce and his mother had to fish you out of. 

“Aren’t these flowers so pretty?” you ask, slotting a stem between your ring and middle finger. You cup it with reverence, as it’s one of the only tangible things you have from a better time. One of the only things you were allowed to touch.

You look over at Deuce.

“Yeah, they are.” he sighs, kneeling next to you with a soft smile, “They always did remind me of you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, and you feel your face heating up. There was nothing any of those royals could give you that would ever take your heart back from the boy in front of you. You turn your head to face him, staring into those deep blue eyes. He stares back, a pink flush steadily growing darker on his cheeks. You wet your lips and lean a bit closer because this moment is right, you two are alone, and you don’t think you’ll ever get this chance again.

He stands up and clears his throat. Your approach stalls halfway, and you feel as though you were just doused in icy cold water.

“I’m sorry, My Liege.” he mumbled, avoiding your questioning gaze with bright red cheeks, “I...I can’t. It’s improper.”

“Deuce?” you whisper, the sound so weak and pathetic that you hate yourself for it.

“Um...My Liege, please get up. It’s...not fit for royalty to be crouched on the ground like that.” he says, the words sounding so wrong on his tongue.

It doesn’t change the fact that he said them.

“Deuce...do you hate me?” you ask, shakily rising to your knees, “You’re always so distant when we used to be so close, and when I climbed into bed with you last night you didn’t even look at me before you fell asleep. Please just tell me if there’s nothing there because I don’t think I can stand to have this uncertainty surrounding us.”

You’re also certain that a broken heart would make it even worse for you.

“I can’t let...feelings get in the way of protecting you-”

Whose feelings?

“-because you’re...My Liege, and it’s my duty to protect you-”

I want to be more!

“-so I can’t act...I...I’m sorry.”

“Can’t act on what?” you persist, clasping your hands over your heart as if that will protect it.

“I can’t say.” Deuce looks away, shifting uncomfortably on the spot.

It doesn’t stop you from pushing.

“Why not? You used to say exactly how you felt when we were kids. Does being royalty make it that difficult...?” you take a step back, braced for the worst.

“It does, My Liege.” he confesses, and a sickening feeling wells up in your stomach.

Your heart shatters in your chest.

Your head is spinning as you stumble away from Deuce with a grimace on your face, unable to focus on anything except for the mixture of emotions you feel.

“I...I need to think.” you mumble, stumbling over yourself as you turn on your heel and start to run.

“My Liege!” Deuce yells after you, taking off behind you.

“Don’t follow me! That’s an order!” you cry out, throwing yourself around a tree trunk and through a patch of briars. Your precious clothing was torn in seconds, the fabric catching and yanking on the thorns.

You kept running.

Deuce’s footsteps were still trailing you, but he hadn’t caught you yet. You wished he was following you because he was worried, not because it was his duty to keep you safe. You wished you two could still have fun together. You wished he cared about you like he used to. You wished you could spend your days with him and his mother inside his room, playing silly games and eating those delicious chicken sandwiches she made.

You wished you could be a Spade.

A loud crunch is the last thing you hear before you go plummeting into a creek, your formal wear doing nothing to protect you from the shocking cold. A sharp pain travels up your ankle and you curse whatever divine force made you sprain it.

You are suddenly keenly aware of every sound within these woods. the slight moment of a branch on your left, the whispering of the tree’s leaves on your right, and the skittering sound of leaves billowing around the woods. A sudden fear overtakes you, a foreign emotion that you never had to face due to your upbringing. 

“Deuce?” you call out, feeling like an injured child again, “Deuce!”

“My Liege!” he calls back, and you feel relief rushing through you when he bursts through the greenery hiding you from view.

Your previous heartbreak is immediately forgotten when his expression of pure fear melts into relief. He splashes towards you without a care in the world for his pristine uniform and gathers you up in his arms with one swoop. You gasp as you’re crushed against him, his hand cradling the back of your head like he’s never planning on letting you go.

“Shit, don’t ever do that again. I’m sorry I hurt you that much. I thought I was saying the right things and that I was protecting you, but-” he gasps for breath, holding you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your bodies, “Fuck. Please, never do that again.”

“Deuce.” you sob, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks before you can stop them, “It’s okay. I was the one acting like a child. I think I’m just so used to getting what I want that when I can’t have you I...”

You don’t say anything. You can’t find the words, but Deuce knows. He understands.

“You should know that you’re precious to me.” he murmurs, a forbidden confession that you know he could never make in the palace, “Nothing will ever change that. Even if I wasn’t your guard, I’d still want to protect you as much as I can. I want to be better for you.”

“I don’t want to leave here yet.” you beg, clinging to his uniform, “Please, can we stay here for a while longer?”

His expression softens even more at your plea, and Deuce allows himself to squeeze you. It’s a tender gesture that sends your heart into a frenzy again.

“Of course.” he murmurs, and it’s then that you realize how close he is to you.

“Deuce.” you whisper, leaning in again, hoping against all hope that this is the right moment, “Can I...kiss you?”

He sucks in a shaky breath at your request, but this time he doesn’t pull away. You wait patiently, for a few beats, staring into his eyes as the creek’s chill helps to minimize the heat of your face.

“My Liege...” he furrows his brow, mouth curving downwards in a frown, “I can’t.”

“Please. Please, Deuce. I want to kiss you.” you mirror his expression.

“I do too.” he whispers, flinching at his own words, “I want to kiss you so much. I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Then please.” you cry, every cell in your body desperate for just one kiss, “Please.”

Deuce sighs, but you can see his composure breaking.

He whispers your name—your actual name, not My Liege or your highness, just your name and it’s the most beautiful whisper of your name you think you’ll ever hear and his mouth slots against yours.

You gasp, pushing against him to get more and more of him because this is a fleeting moment and you know you'll probably never get to do this again.

You will never get to kiss Deuce Spade again.

He presses a hand against your lower back and holds you close, the other one still cradling your head. He’s leaning in too, kissing you just as desperately as you’re kissing him, and just that fact alone has a joyful lightness filling your heart. You feel like you could fly right now and take Deuce with you away from the palace and your responsibilities and the title that keeps you two apart.

It’s over too soon.

♠️

You’re convinced your father didn’t need to scold you as much as he did. Even though Deuce didn’t want you to, you still took the blame for what happened. Your father would have thrown him and his mother out if you hadn’t, and you don’t know how you would live if Deuce wasn’t around.

The memory of the kiss is still floating around in your head, and it still makes you feel just as light as it did when it happened. You swear your guard used some sort of magic on you because your brain is entirely captivated by him.

Though, you suppose with a giggle, that is nothing new.

Your joy doesn’t last long though, as memories of what happened after the kiss creep into your head.

“I hate this distance between us.” you said as you trailed a hand down his cheek, “I just want to be close to you. I want to be your best friend and your closest confidante and...I want to marry you, even. I want to be with you forever.”

“My Liege, you can’t marry a guard.” he protested, and your heart ached at the return of honorifics, “Why would you want to do such a thing?”

“You know, you try too hard to stick to the rules. You rarely did that in our childhood.” you huffed, “I want to marry you because I love you. Surely you knew that?”

“That’s why I can’t marry you My Liege.” he sighed and looked at you with such sorrow that it broke your heart again, “I need you to have the approval of the people and to find a husband. I need...I need to be better for you and my mother. I need to follow my duties so neither of you get hurt again. I’m sorry.”

You try to bring back the happy memory of the kiss, but your mood has already soured.

And so you greet your handmaiden halfhearted as she rushes you into your bathroom. She's chattering on and on about how dreadful it is that your clothes got ruined, but that you still look stunning no matter what. You say nothing. She scrubs and scrubs and you try to wipe the memory of those hurtful, honest words out of your mind to no avail. You’re relieved that your father sent all the guests home early because of your little “stunt,” as he called it. At least now you don’t have to converse with royals who could never hold you or care for you or kiss you like Deuce Spade does.

Dinner is spent in silence as your father croons about how lucky it was that you weren’t hurt, since there are many wild animals on the castle grounds and oh, by the way, did you hear about his most recent hunting expedition? He’d be delighted to relive the tale of him shooting this large boar he found-

You excuse yourself with a weak smile and your father waves you away, content to use the handmaidens and butlers as his audience. Your handmaiden follows you back to your room, where she helps you change into your pajamas. You wave her away the second she’s done.

Flopping down on your bed, you can’t help but feel empty. You wonder why that is.

Today has held many emotional twists and turns, and perhaps it was too much.

Despite your better judgment, you get back up out of bed and head towards the door. The guard once again says nothing as you walk across the hall and knock on the door belonging to the Spade family. Deuce’s mom opens the door immediately and welcomes you in with that same happy smile, and that alone tells you she knows nothing.

“I hope the festivities didn’t tire you out too much, dear.” she hugs you, the comforting warmth of her seeping into your expensive pajamas, “I’ll go make you some tea. I’m sure your father means well, as he’s trying to secure you a happy future, but if you ever need a break from it all our door is always open.”

A happy future?

You look over at Deuce, only to find him already looking at you.

There’s a sharp pang in your heart at his saddened expression.

You were so close.

You were almost there.

[j-eryewrites]

Come Home

MAIN MASTERLIST

Pairing: (Ominis Gaunt x Reader)

Song: Willow Tree March by The Paper Kites

Concept: What if Ominis’ aunt didn’t die in the Scriptorium and instead left the Gaunt family? What if Ominis went to go live with his aunt in America?

Author’s Note: Starting to finally calm down in my busy life and have a little bit of time to write. I had this idea while listening to the song and I couldn’t help but write it. Ominis, my poor baby, deserves to be happy so I wrote a fic where he does get to be happy. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

It had only been a few months since he left. Ominis Gaunt in all his magnificent glory was taken away from his rotten family to live with his aunt in America. Of course, Sebastian and I were overjoyed for him for we knew the true harshness that came with being a Gaunt. Ominis was a kind and gentle soul, so undeserving of his family's cruelty and hatred. So, it made complete sense as to why I should be happy for him. His aunt who was just like him was alive. His only loving and caring familial relation was alive and well and wanting to save him from the very family she ran from. Yet…I believe that Sebastian, Anne, and I were Ominis’s family. We kept him safe and sane all those years. I held him in the undercroft. We laughed with him and played the horrific game of gobstones. Hogwarts was our home, and we were a family, but now he’s gone. 

I remember that fateful day we all saw him off to America. His leather suitcase in hand and hair styled so neatly that no matter how many times I ran my fingers through it it would never change. I knew I’d see Ominis again. I knew we’d write every day, but he was my family and he was leaving. I’d no longer see him next to me in History of Magic dozing off or have his companionship when I went to raid the kitchens late at night. No longer would Ominis dawn his Hogwarts uniform, but instead dawn the one of Ilvermorny. He was going to make new friends. He was going to make a new family. And just as I knew we’d always be friends, he’d move on because that is what happens with life; It moves on and so do you. 

So that’s what I tried to do, move on. Of course, moving on worked just like that day we had blast-ended skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures. Sebastian knew I wasn’t faring well without Ominis, but I knew he was hurting just the same. Natty tried her best to cheer me up. We’d go for walks in the forbidden forest or grab a butterbeer or two from the Three Broomsticks. Poppy comforted me in her own manner and in doing so my collection of rescued magical creatures grew. Yet no matter how much butterbeer I drank, flights over the castle I took, or magical creatures I rescued, the hole Ominis left could never be filled. 

I almost began to think that the hole would never be filled. 

_____

“No Garreth, you aren’t listening. You’ve got to give each of the mallowsweet plants three drops of the water and fertilizer mixture,” I chuckled as I pushed myself onto Garreth’s station. My legs swung back and forth and I observed the red head’s careful measuring. He may have a reputation in potions, but I refuse to let that reputation bleed into herbology. 

Garreth gave me a hearty laugh as his hands carefully distributed the mixture to the mallowsweets. 

“Good,” I smiled before patting him on the head. 

“Merlin, Y/N,” Garreth said, “I’m not one of your puffskein.” Garreth set down the mixture before sending me a smirk. 

“Well, if you're not a puffskein, then why does your hair look like one. Don’t you see how puffy your locks are?” I fluffed up Garreth’s hair and styled it to look exactly like the small furry creatures. 

“Hey, hey not the hair,” Garreth whined. 

“ Sorry, forgive me, good sir,” I sarcastically said, “I don’t want to ruin your chances with Miss Imelda Reyes.”

Garreth rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know that I am not infatuated with Imel–”

It was a strange occurrence. One moment I’m teasing Garreth until his ears turn pink and the next it’s like I’ve lost my breath. My heart clenches and leaps forward and my hair stands up. My ears are no longer listening to Garreth as the voice in my mind grows louder and louder. 

Run. Run. Run. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Garreth asked.

I look down at Garreth. “He’s here,” I mutter. Snapping out of my daze, I jump down from the desk. “Garreth, mind taking my stuff back to the common room for me? I have to–I just–I’ve got to go.” 

I don’t give Garreth time to respond before I’m out of the herbology classroom. I vaguely hear Garreth and Professor Garlick calling after me but my mind, heart, and soul are tuned to the sound of another song: he’s here, he’s here, he’s here. 

The halls of Hogwarts pass me by as I dash down the stairs and across the stone floors. With nothing in my way, my legs take me farther and faster. It’s as if I’ve drunk a potion of speed. The beat of the song grows louder the longer I run. I have no clue where I’m running, but I know where to go. I’m going to him wherever he is. 

_____

“Don’t go,” I whispered. My hand is in between his cold palms. 

“She’s my family.” Ominis said the words like they were law. 

“What about Sebastian, Anne, and I?” I asked. “I thought we were your family.”

Ominis opened and closed his mouth while his milky white eyes darted around. “It’s not the same.”

“But it is. You are my family. Please Ominis. I’ve already lost Professor Fig and almost lost Sebastian. I can’t lose you too.” I began to cry. I am not sure why, but I always seemed to cry in the Astronomy tower. 

The stars were beautiful that night as Ominis tried to comfort me with vague promises. My hands were no longer in his, but now clutching his robes with an intensity I never knew I had. It was if I were to let go, he’d disappear. When I did let go the next morning, Ominis did vanish. He stepped on that boat and was gone. 

_____

The cobbled stone of the pathway beneath my feeling echoed the sound of my boots. The early afternoon autumn sun beat down on my figure, inducing a sweat on my brow. Lacewing flies buzzed to the side as the faint sounds of the forbidden forest chirped in my ears. 

Odd looks passed my way as I darted between wizards and witches promenading along the road. Nothing was going to stop me from where I was going–where I needed to be. 

Soon I passed through Hogsmeade. The smells of candy and butterbeer crept into my senses. Each experience reminded me of him, of where I was running.

As the song grew louder, my feet ran faster, and my breath grew heavier. As I run, I can’t think of a time when I ran this fast without my life on the line. I ran too much during my 5th year at Hogwarts. I ran from goblins, poachers, and villains. I ran from myself and those I loved. I ran and ran and ran. I hated running yet here I was running once more. But this time I was running to something. I was running for something. 

The song grew quiet. The urge to run faded. My feet stopped at the train station. Steam was still coming out from the head of the train. People stepped off and filled the station. My lungs heaved as I remembered to breathe. My eyes scanned over the crowd. I knew he’d be here. I believed. 

People dispersed as they found their loved ones. Kisses were exchanged and hugs were given to those reunited. Each scene made my heart yearn. More and more people left, the more I grew worried. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I ran for no reason. Maybe I ran here just to run away. Maybe in my delusion and aching, I cried out for Ominis when he couldn’t hear me. Maybe…

There was no one at the station anymore. My breath collected and the sweat on my forehead cooled. It was just me in my uniform and the train about to depart. He was supposed to be here. 

A noise came from behind me. It was either a cough or a grunt, I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to have misheard. My head turned around and there he was. 

Ominis with his dirty blonde hair and star-kissed face stood on the platform in front of me. His eyes were nervous as he held his wand in front of him. In his other hand held his luggage. 

For a moment neither of us said anything. I knew he knew I was there, just as I knew. I felt my heart skip and my face heat up at the sight of him. He was just as beautiful as the day he left. 

“Y/N?” Ominis whispered. It was as if he didn’t dare to speak aloud, scared to break the dream.

“Y/N, I’m–” I silenced Ominis with a hug. My arms squeezed tight as my head buried itself into his chest. Ominis’s luggage dropped to the platform and his hand now free wrapped around me with as much vigor as I hugged him. He was here. His heartbeat underneath my ear beating faster than mine. His breath was on the crown of my head. Ominis was home and now so was I.

“You’re home,” I cried into his chest. 

“I’m home,” Ominis soothed. “And I’m here to stay.” 

I pull back from the hug and give him a look of disbelief. “What about your Aunt?” 

Ominis chuckled. His foggy eyes float over my face. “All she asked for was my summer holidays. Other than that I’m yours. After all, Hogwarts is my home.” 

My laugh sniffles my tears of joy. “Well then,” I said, “Let’s get you back to Hogwarts. I’m sure everyone is intrigued as to where I ran off to. After all, I did run out of herbology to find you.” 

His eyes widened at my confession. “What about–”

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re here,” I smiled before locking his arm with mine. Once his luggage was back in his hand, the two of us left the station, loving smiles on our faces, hands held together with Hogwarts in our sights. 

_____

Taglist: @bartokthealbinobat

[uhohwhathaveidone]

Seeds of Love (O.G)

Not a request because I’m currently working on a project based off two requests that I have but wrote up some Ominis content for you. Thank you for your patience and kind words as well, my brother is fine (He’s definitely in jail for riding an unregistered bike) and my mother is doing well since her surgery! I hope to begin writing and posting more soon and perhaps return to our original schedule, so be on the lookout! This is just fluff, and there’s no mention of the reader’s gender or house <3 just a small frustration because I wanted to use Stargazer Lillies in this bc they’re my favourite but they were bred in 1975 and wouldn’t have been a thing at the time, so I improvised and went with flowers native to Scottland. I ALMOST POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG I GOT SCARED

      You take in a slow breath as the warm light from the sun hits your face, the warm breeze causing the flowers around you to gently sway. You turn to Ominis as you sighed, smiling as he fixed his robe. “There are plenty of different flowers around here that I haven’t seen before, I’m glad you agreed to come with me.” You said, taking his hand as you led him through the field, a small patch of sun and colourful nature in the midst of the Forbidden Forest. Ominis nodded, following you as he felt another breeze blow through, the sweet scent of flowers filling his senses. “I do have a question, though, if you will.” He said, frowning slightly as he turned his gaze to you. “Of course, go right ahead.” You replied, stopping as you turned to Ominis. “How did you find this place? It was quite the walk to get here, even with Floo Powder. Where are we, exactly?” You smiled sheepishly as you looked down at the grass, unsure how to explain how you ended up in a field of flowers.

      “Well, I guess you could say we’re in the Forbidden Forest.” “Forbidden Forest? Why are we in the Dark Woods? And what were you doing here in the first place?” You fiddled with your fingers, looking around you as you tried to think. “I was in The Three Broomsticks, when one of the patrons called me over. They talked about how they saw butterflies around here once, when she was a student. She wanted to know where they led and asked if I would be able to find out for her.” Ominis sighed as he shook his head lightly. “So, a woman asked you to follow butterflies, into the woods that she was too scared to go into, and you did?” You nodded, frowning. “It was something to do, I suppose. And it worked out well in the end. They led me to a random chest, so I figured I would continue to follow them again next time I saw them.” And you did; following the cluster of butterflies had become a game of hide and seek, and you had enjoyed the things you had found each time. “So, I followed them a bit ago, and they led me here. There was nothing of value really, not even a bag of coins. But this place is filled with amazing flowers, and the grass is actually green instead of the dark scale in the woods. I think it’s beautiful.” You said, taking a seat in the soft grass.

       You patted Ominis’ leg as looked down, taking his hand to have him sit next to you. Ominis looked at you, puzzled. “Why did you bring me here, then?” He asked, hearing leaves rustle as the breeze came through again, the blades of grass tickling his hand. He turned his head to his side, dropping his hand to run it through the soft grass with a small smile. You smiled as you watched him, forgetting for a moment that he had asked you a question. “Y/n? Did you hear me?” He asked, turning to you again with furrowed brows. Your eyes widened slightly as you nodded quickly. “Yes! Well, I figured you’d enjoy it. I have a bunch of the flowers memorized now, so I could have talked about them to you at the castle, but I wanted you to be here in this space.” You explained, your cheeks heating up slightly as you turned away, picking a flower and examining it. “This space? It feels undisturbed, as if no one has found it yet.” Ominis said, finding a collection of Daffodils and feeling the soft yellow petals, or perhaps this was a collection of white ones? “It’s pretty deep into the forest, so it should be safe to assume that no one has found it. Just us, for the time being.” You smiled, reaching over him as you took one of the daffodils, smiling as you dropped it onto his lap. “Those are huge, the daffodils. They’re the white ones with the orange center, not like the yellow ones that honk at you when you pass by.” Ominis smiled as he picked up the flower, its strong stalk bending slightly as he tilted it towards you. “This place is nice. I’m glad you thought to bring me here with you.”

      The two of you continued to relax in the meadow; Ominis sat happily as you would run off for a moment and come back with another flower, placing it in his hands as you gushed about its colour. Ominis didn’t know what you were doing with the flowers afterwards, but you never gave him time to ask when you returned again with a new flower. “Ominis!” You shouted happily, causing him to jump slightly. He turned his head towards you, leaning back slightly when you came up behind him. “What is it? Did you find something?” He asked, smiling as he felt your hand graze his face as you stood over him. “I did! There’s a small patch of flowers near the edge of the field that I hadn’t looked at! Oh, they’re amazing, Ominis!” You said, taking a seat next to him as you crossed your legs, holding the new flower in your hands gently as you gazed at it. “It’s a Parnassus! This one in particular is one is the Grass of Parnassus.” You said, smiling as you placed it into his hands. Ominis felt the soft petals, furrowing his brows as he registered the name. “Grass of Parnassus? What kind of name is that?” He asked, frowning as he twirled the small flower between his fingers. You chuckled, looking at the flower as it spun, forming a shape that resembled the twinkle of a star. “It lives in batches of grass, usually near water, but I didn’t see any nearby. The flower itself doesn’t look like grass.” You smiled, chuckling to yourself.

      “It certainly doesn’t feel like grass. But it has a nice shape” Ominis said, trailing a finger over the flower. “What are these patches of things in it? Is that where the pollen is?” You nodded, grabbing his hand, and moving his finger to where one of the many antennae sat, the soft yellow powder brushing off onto his finger. “There’s five of them, each with at least seven smaller bundles of yellow things. I’m not sure why they need so many, but it looks cute.” Ominis nodded, his cheeks slightly warm as you stayed close, taking his finger to move over the flower itself. “It looks like a star, and it’s white with what kind of looks like veins on each petal.” “Veins? Why would a flower have veins?” You chuckled as you shook your head. “I don’t think they work like actual veins; it’s just how they grow. It also has a bulb in its center, not sure what it does, if I’m to be honest.” You watched as Ominis continued to mess with the flower, smiling as he furrowed his brows when he traced the surface of the flower again, taking in the details that you described to him. You sighed, looking around the area as bundles of wildflower swayed gently, stretching your arms. “There are plenty of flowers here that I haven’t shown you, if you’d like another.” Ominis turned to you, head tilted slightly as he held the flower gently. “Only if you want, I’m rather contempt with the flowers you have brought me, but I wait eagerly for your next find.” He said, smiling as he listened to you whisper a small “yes!”

      As you went off in search of another flower, Ominis sat alone, feeling the warm rays of the sun kiss his skin as his heart began to beat faster. He kept the Parnassus in his hand as he felt a small smile grace his lips, his chest tightening with each beat from his heart. He appreciated you; everything you did for him was sweet. You had found a random untouched meadow and thought to bring him with you to explore it. You took the time to hand pick what you thought was the perfect flower for him, describing them to him each time without fail. When did you start doing that? Ominis thought, feeling his cheeks heat up. He heard your voice call to him once again, announcing that you had found another flower. He turned his head in your direction, his eyes widening as he felt a wave of nervousness wash over him as he visualized your smile, feeling as if he had just discovered what love was.

      You reach him and smile, holding a soft bundle of purple Heather in your hand. You stood there beside Ominis as he gazed up at you, confused as you watched him try to stand. “I brought you some Heather, they smell really nice!” You said, handing them over as Ominis straightened his back as he continued to hold the other flower. “Y/n, why do you do this for me?” He asked, taking the Heather from you and gently letting it rest in his palm. You furrowed your brows as you frowned slightly, confused. “What do you mean?” “You didn’t have to bring me here or tell me about flowers. But you did, why?” You looked down at the grass, watching as it darkened in his shadow. “Because you deserve it, of course.” You said, smiling as you glanced up. Ominis felt his cheeks heat up more as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m sure you would have an easier time showing this to anyone else, you don’t have to waste your breath describing flowers to me.” He said softly, playing with the flowers in his hand. You shook your head as you scoffed, reaching to take the Parnassus from his hand. “I want you to know what’s around you. You should know how the world around you looks, even if I must describe everything around you.” “You don’t have to.” “I want to be your eyes, besides, no one else would willingly want to follow me to a flower patch like you did.” You chuckled, placing the flower into the pocket of his robe.

      Ominis took your hand into his as soon as you let go of the flower, his gaze to the ground as he spoke quietly. “You wish to be my eyes.” You nodded, gently squeezing his hand. Ominis stayed silent for a moment, pondering what to say next. “Would you tell me, then. What do you see when you look at me?” Your smile grew as you gazed at his face, his cheeks becoming pinker as you watched. “I see a work of art. Like flowers, or the night sky; I can’t help but wonder what artist was able to envision a being as beautiful as you.” You spoke gently, feeling your hand squeezed as his eyes widened. “You speak as if you have already thought about it.” “I have. You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know.” “One would think that there was love in those words, with the way you said them.” He said, a small smile gracing his lips. You nodded, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you smiled softly. “One would think.” Ominis stood frozen, his heart beating rapidly as he spoke. “My love is yours, if you’re willing to take it.”

      Your smile grew as you kissed his cheek, slowly wrapping an arm around his center, still keeping hold of his hand. “And my hand is yours to hold, even if you have nowhere to go.” You said softly, placing another kiss on his face. Ominis smiled as he wrapped his free arm around you, the Heather still held between his fingers. You smiled as you glanced at the purple flowers beside you, finally connecting your lips with his. He smiled into the kiss, his soft lips moving in sync with your own as you chuckled slightly. As you pulled away, you couldn’t stop yourself from planting a small kiss to his nose, watching as his eyes widened in surprise. “I promise to plant kisses like seeds to your being, so that one day you will grow to love yourself as I love you.” You said, breathing in the breeze, smiling as it picked up the flowers you had picked for Ominis and scattering them around you. Ominis chuckled as he held you tighter, whispering into your ear. “You’ll have to do a lot of kissing then, just to combat the love I have for you.”

[harrysmmm]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 - 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚

Fanfiction:The Relics of Hogwarts (CLICK THE LINK BEFORE READING THIS)

Draco malfoy x Y/N Riddle (f!reader)

A/N: I wrote this in a day (once again hihi) chapter 5 will be up tomorrow. Hope you enjoy this one. Don't forget, if you want to be added to the taglist write me through an inbox or put it in the comments! love you x

W/C: 3.2K

Warning: swearing, verbal violence.

Taglist: @jay-isgay @butterflyreads

masterlist here

Cloudy days had been passing by at Hogwarts. Classes were following each other; lunches were eaten one after the other; nights were slept through soft rain. There was a week left for Christmas break and it could be sensed that students were eager to unwire from schoolwork and get to relax for a few days.

Within the Slytherin main friend group, things were a little tense. Draco and Y/N barely talked to one another after the Chamber of Secrets’ incident. Blaise had subtly tried to cool the air between the both of them a few times, but it would make the situation far more tense – he eventually gave up on it. Y/N felt far too embarrassed to make any move. There was no explanation that could be made because she didn’t understand her feelings herself. She didn’t know she had that desire for Draco so strongly in her.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on the situation either because exams took place that week. Y/N had spent most of her time studying at the library or at the Great Lake when snow wasn’t hitting so hard. She wouldn’t really study with Pansy because the latter was not very academic – in fact, most exams she would attend unprepared. Y/N knew that it didn’t matter that much the grades she had but for some inexplicable reason she fondly enjoyed the act of studying. Besides, it would also distract her from the incident with Draco.

“Hey Y/N.” A girly voice interrupted the silence of her study session. She was sitting by herself under the shade of a tree, next to the Great Lake. She turned around and recognized Mary Rookwood, from the Slytherin-Gryffindor quidditch match.

“Hey Mary, what’s up?”

“Not much. Are you studying Potions?” Y/N hid the book of the Half-Blood Prince in case she knew about it.

“Yeah, got the test tomorrow.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard you don’t really need to study. You’re like the best at Potions, Slughorn won’t shut up about it.”

“Trust me, it’s not enough,” she replied.

“I think you need a break. I’ve seen you come here almost every day for the past week. Why don’t you join me and my friends? I can’t tell you what we’re doing, you’ll have to see it for yourself,” she playfully said.

“That sounds intriguing, hum…” she meditated the answer for a few seconds. It wouldn’t be counterproductive to join some Hufflepuff’s gang, taking into consideration that she had to get the cup of Hufflepuff. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

“Brilliant,” she replied. “Come on, hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

They both walked through the Forbidden Forest. They made some small talk about the school and their interests. Y/N came to really enjoy Mary’s company – she was a social girl who seemed to have little preoccupations; a half-blood that grew up in Manchester, her mother being a researcher on cures for fantastic animals’ diseases and her father being a baker, whatever that was.

“And we’re almost there,” Mary said.

“You still won’t tell me what we’re doing here?”

“You’ll see it in…now!”

Y/N looked ahead and saw a crowd of Hufflepuff students and one Gryffindor. They seemed to be cheering someone in the air, but Y/N couldn’t see anyone.

“Who are they cheering, Mary?”

“Look!”

Y/N looked up again and saw two giant animals flying, with one student on each of them. They were white winged horses that were fiercely soaring through the sky. One of them drastically landed on the ground, a few seconds later the second one followed it.

“And Finnimore wins the race! Woo-hoo!” A Hufflepuff boy shouted, while a Gryffindor got down from the winged horse.

“Fair race, Pince,” said the Gryffindor guy to the Slytherin.

Pince didn’t shake his hand, rolling his eyes at Finnimore.

“Hi guys,” Mary greeted everyone. “I brought someone today, this is Y/N Diggory. Y/N, this is everyone.”

“Hi,” she said.

Some of them said “hi” back to her.

“You’re Cedric’s cousin, am I right?” the Gryffindor guy asked her. A silence lingered in the air.

“Yeah, I am, you knew him?”

“A relative to Cedric is a friend of ours. Will, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.”

“Alright who’s next?” said a Hufflepuff guy. “Finnimore, you won. You can choose your opponent.”

“Very well.” He looked around at everyone, lastly his eyes meeting with hers. “Diggory, you up for it?”

“To ride a winged horse?”

“Yeah, that’s the basic idea,” Will added.

“I’ve never ridden one before, I thought they were forbidden at Hogwarts.”

“Well, they technically are,” added Mary. “We keep them as a secret here. This is not something you want to tell around the school.”

“I see,” Y/N replied.

“The horses do technically ride themselves, and if you do fall, you’ll fall into the Great Lake which is not that terrible, speaking from a guy that has fallen,” said Will to convince her.

“Alright, why not?” she finally gave up and approached the two horses.

“One last thing, Diggory,” Will added. His eyes were deeply staring into hers while a smirk was seen on his face. He had a sort of curly dark hair and deep brown eyes. He was objectively good looking. “We have to bet on something.” He looked back at the Hufflepuff guy that spoke earlier. “What do we have left, Logan?”

“Amortentia.”

“Who wins, gets a jar of Amortentia, deal?” She knew what Amortentia was: a powerful potion that could make someone fall in love with someone else. Tempting.

“Deal,” she said.

Both riders got on the horses.

“What breed are they?” Y/N asked.

“Granians. The fastest of all of them.”

“On my mark!” shouted the Hufflepuff boy.

“May the best win, Slytherin” Will said.

“You got it,” Y/N replied.

“Three, two, one, go!”

Both horses flew up to the sky so fast that Y/N couldn’t tell why she hadn’t fallen from hers yet. They were flying so vertically that she had to hold very tight the reins, her feet almost hanging loose if it wasn’t for the stirrups attached to the animal. Both horses were gaining on height, getting at a certain point above the clouds – Y/N’s sight being all blurry. Once she was six thousand five hundred feet above, the horse started to spin around, like if it was dancing ballet. Y/N thought it would’ve been a beautiful sight to see in hindsight. Suddenly, the horse stopped and went all the way down again, getting Y/N scream so loud she could’ve sworn it was therapeutic. Once they were a few feet above the lake, the horse started to speed up in a horizontal direction. Y/N couldn’t see where Will was, she didn’t know if she was beating him – she just wanted to enjoy the ride at that point. The horse got really close to the water and Y/N took a risk to leaf her hand through it – the experience was really liberating. When she got to one of the trees, the animal took a run and propelled itself straight ahead, to get to the finish line. Y/N caressed the animal’s head to cheer it to get to it. That seemed to work, and it fastened, landing next to the other students in the Forbidden Forest. Will wasn’t there just yet.

“Diggory! Diggory! Diggory!” the students were cheering.

Will landed a few seconds later.

“And Diggory wins the race!” Logan, the Hufflepuff boy, exclaimed.

“Woo-hoo!” Y/N screamed.

“Well done, Y/N! It had been a while since someone beat Will,” said Mary, hugging her to congratulate her.

“The proper Slytherin had to come to do it,” Y/N said, teasingly.

“You have it in your blood, Diggory, I reckon,” Will said, shaking his hand with hers.

“There you go, Y/N,” Logan said, handing her the jar of Amortentia. “Use it wisely.”

She took the jar, a pink liquid bubbling inside. She smiled at him.

“Who is up for a butterbear, guys?” blurted Will.

For the first time in weeks, she forgot about why she was at Hogwarts in the first place, and felt young, carefree, and happy.

���࿔

“Who would you shag if you had the chance?”

Y/N was in bed. It was eleven p.m. and she was making small talk with Pansy.

“Never really thought about it, to be honest with you,” Y/N replied.

The brunette startled in bed. “Come on Y/N, that’s rubbish. It’s still valid if it’s not a Slytherin, won’t judge. There are some fine Gryffindor guys I wouldn’t mind fooling around with.”

“Pansy,” Y/N laughed. She did the same. “You start,” Y/N continued.

“No, I asked first, you start.”

“I won’t start.”

“Why won’t you start?”

“Because I don’t want to! You start!”

“Merlin’s beard, I’ll start! You’re mental, you know that?”

Y/N just laughed.

“Okay, it’s someone we both know,” the brunette started saying.

“We’re playing guessing now?”

“Yes. It’s a Slytherin.”

“Blaise?”

“No! That one is for you!”

Y/N was the one that startled then. “What?! Why?!”

“Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you?”

“No!”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N. I thought you knew!”

“I told you, I don’t really focus on those things!”

“You’re so odd.”

“Well, who’s your guy then?”

“He’s friends with Blaise, though.”

Y/N started to get the hints.

“He’s quite tall, and lately rather mysterious too. He has a dark sense of humor, quite childish if you ask me.” She started ranting. “He, for some odd reason, is always bringing around green apples with him. He loves black-”

“Alright, we got who he is, don’t need to further explain.”

“I love him, Y/N.”

Something stopped within Y/N.

“No way,” she said.

“Since first year, actually. He was always so childish I never really thought he looked at girls any differently, until this year. He’s matured so much over the summer; I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but I think it’s the perfect moment.”

You knew what had gotten into him. He was not dealing with kids’ problems no more.

“I don’t know. Haven’t really noticed.” Of course she had noticed but she wasn’t up to talk about that with Pansy.

“You notice nothing, Y/N,” the brunette said.

Y/N ignored the comment.

“What is that?” Pansy asked, pointing at something Y/N had on her open bag. “Is that Amortentia?”

Y/N proceeded to close her bag. “Yeah, no big deal.”

“But it is a big deal. How did you get it? Did you steal it?”

“For Merlin’s beard, no. Slughorn gave it to me, for the good grades.”

“He gave you Amortentia? That’s so twisted.”

“Yeah, well… You know Slughorn, he lets himself carry away quite a lot.”

“Be careful with that. It’s very powerful.”

“Won’t use it.”

“Right.”

Both students got silent. Y/N noticed Pansy was ready to go to sleep, so she turned off the lights, the thought of her and Draco still lingering in her mind.

ྀ࿔

Exams had finished that very same day. Defense Against the Dark Arts was the last exam of the term – Y/N was feeling like she hadn’t really aced that one, but she was grateful that Snape was the one grading them.

She had also been invited by Slughorn to a Christmas party, only exclusive to the best potion students. She had to bring a plus one but she hadn’t asked anyone yet. She had thought of asking Blaise in the first place, but after Pansy’s revelation of the latter’s liking on Y/N, she had thought it was not appropriate to ask him. Draco was, of course, out of the picture, the two still not talking to the other. The only person that came to mind was, against all odds, a certain Gryffindor boy.

“Would you go to this Christmas party with me?” Y/N asked.

“The Slughorn one?” Will asked back.

“Yes, is there any other one in place?”

Will laughed. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

“Cool!”

“Isn’t it odd that a Slytherin is asking a Gryffindor though?” Will asked.

“It just is if you want to make it that way,” she replied.

“Alright Diggory, pick you up at six thirty?”

“Sounds good.”

ྀ࿔

Will went down to the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was located. He was wearing a black suit, and a light blue tie. He was waiting for Y/N outside the stone wall. His thoughts traveled to quidditch, how the next day he had a match against Ravenclaw. He was one of the chasers of the Gryffindor team since his year three. He had been recruited by Oliver Wood when he was still the captain. He loved sports, that’s why he was also quite natural with winged horse race. Among the school, he had gained quite the reputation of social, popular boy. In fact, that same night he had been invited to a Hufflepuff party - party that he had politely declined to go out with Y/N to Slughorn’s. He didn’t really know what was in her that attracted him; he also didn’t know if it crossed the limit of friendship just yet. But he did know he liked her, in what way? He was still unsure of that.

Y/N appeared from the stone wall.

“Hey you.”

“Hey! Shall we?” Will asked.

“Yes.”

Will noticed Y/N’s attune. She was wearing a silk silver dress, paired up with white high heels. Her hair was partly pinned so her face was fully uncovered. She was wearing light, glittery makeup that accentuated her high cheekbones. Will thought to himself that she looked gorgeous.

They walked through the castle gaining some looks from almost every student they crossed path with. It was already rare that a Gryffindor had something to do with a Slytherin, but especially if that Gryffindor was the popular Will Finnimore and that Slytherin was Cedric’s cousin, Y/N Diggory. They arrived at the seventh floor, where the party was located.

“Drink?” asked Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor student, to the couple.

“Neville!” said Will.

“I didn’t get into the Slug Club,” said the white-dressed boy. “It’s okay, though. He’s got Belby handing out towels in the loo.”

“Oh well, you want a drink Y/N?”

“Sure.” Will grabbed two drinks for the both of them.

“Thanks, mate,” said Will.

“Sure.”

Will looked around the place, seeing if he could find someone he knew - it seemed like he actually knew everyone in the place. His hand waved at some Gryffindor girl named Sasha.

“Y/N, could I talk to you for a second?”

Will turned around and bumped into Harry Potter talking to Y/N.

ྀ࿔

“Y/N, could I talk to you for a second?”

Y/N was confused as to why Harry wanted to talk to her, after the stolen book accusation. She looked over at Will.

“Do you mind, Will?”

“No, go ahead. Hi mate!”

“Hey Will,” replied Harry.

Will went over to talk to a certain girl. Y/N focused on Harry.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I just wanted to apologize to you, for having accused you about the book.”

“Oh,” Y/N wasn’t expecting that. “That’s alright. Have you found it yet?”

“No, but it was wrong from me to accuse you, just because you seemed to do good in Potions.”

“Alright,” replied Y/N. “No hard feelings, Potter.”

Harry smiled at her. He seemed to look behind her at someone. Y/N looked back and saw Hermione hiding behind some curtains.

“I might’ve to go check on her.”

“Yeah, she seems wanting to avoid someone.”

“McLaggen,” clarified Harry.

“Oh yeah, that guy is the worst,” added Y/N.

“If you’ll excuse me.” He went over to her rescue.

Y/N stood there alone when Slughorn joined in.

“Y/N, you made it!”

“Of course, Professor. Wouldn’t miss it!”

“Good, good… Oh the photographer!” A girl with a camera flashed at them. Y/N didn’t even have the time to pose. “That might end on the shelf, Y/N… Oh, Professor Snape, what a surprise!”

Y/N was alone again until Will approached her.

“Lively party, innit?”

“To Slughorn’s taste,” she replied.

The room was covered with green curtains hanging from the ceiling. A cozy fire was warming up the place.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“I came this year. I was homeschooled before.”

“Oh, you lived with your parents?”

“No, I lived with my uncle and aunt. My parents died in an accident.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” she just replied, not wanting to have to further explain her fake story.

“I was raised by my mom, my dad died when I was a kid,” he continued.

“Oh, are they wizards?”

“Slytherins always so focused on blood. No, I’m a muggle-born, does that change something?”

She had been taught that changed everything but never really understood why. “I don’t know,” she replied.

“Well, Cedric was a half-blood, and he was one of the brightest guys I’ve ever met.”

“You were close?”

“Yes. He was two years older than me, but he never made me feel younger.”

“You’re a year seven, aren’t you?”

“Hadn’t I said that before?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, I am. I remember being in year five when he passed away. He was actually in year seven. I had always looked up to him, everyone loved Cedric. In fact, during the commemoration act almost everyone in the school came to say goodbye, even Slytherins.”

“What did you do?”

“You don’t know?” Y/N shook her head. “We honored the house of Hufflepuff and threw their more possessed item into the Great Lake, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff.”

Y/N’s heart stopped.

“Their relic?”

“Yes. It is now in the deep water, probably the Grindylows own it now.”

“The Grindylows you say?”

“Yeah, they are some vicious little demons that live in the lake. You don’t wanna mess with them.”

Y/N was going to ask further questions until someone interrupted the party.

“Take your hands off me, you filthy Squib!” Draco and Filch abruptly entered the room.

“Professor Slughorn, Sir,” started saying Filch. “I just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party.”

“Okay, okay, I was gatecrashing. Happy?” his eyes looked into Y/N’s and moved towards Will. Her heart escaped a beat.

“I’ll escort him out,” Snape said, getting in the scene.

“Certainly, Professor.” They exited the room.

“Alright, everyone. Carry on, carry on,” Slughorn laughed the incident off.

Y/N’s look went back to Will’s. “Will you excuse me for a second?”

“Sure,” Will said.

Y/N found her way out of the party. She bumped into Draco outside, Snape already having left.

“Draco,” she called him.

Draco turned back, looking at her. “What?”

“What were you doing out there?”

“What do you think I was doing?”

“Are you angry at me?”

“Piss off, Y/N. None of your bloody business,” he violently replied.

“But it is my business, Draco. You know that, and don’t you dare talk to me like that!”

“I talk to you as I please!” He got closer to her, a very angry look on his face. “You leave me the fuck alone from now on, I don’t need you to be asking sneaky questions. I don’t love you.”

Y/N held back her tears, never having been talked like that before. “This is all because of the vision, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!”

“I couldn’t care less about your pathetic desire.” Just like that, he left, leaving Y/N with the sourest heart she had ever had to bare. She didn’t know a certain scarred one had been eavesdropping their conversation.

[ominousredherring]

Over and Over

You remember how I said I would start to write happier things? Yeah... me too. But not this time. You get the gist, unedited, written while listening to the same song. Over and over.

This was inspired by the Davy Jones theme song from POTC. Listening to it while you read adds a special effect, trust me.

The song played over and over.

Melancholic, almost remorseful sounding as the box played its tune countless times. By now, you had it memorized, humming it as you went from class to class or mindlessly tending to the plants in your room of requirement.

The mysterious music box, you had only just found in the Forbidden Forest, was grimy and muddy from the forest floor. It wasn't until you cleaned and polished it, storing it away as a trinket that it opened on its own, playing a song that enchanted you.

If you had to guess, the song reminded you of a lover in mourning, or a love forbidden. Maybe that's why you could never bring yourself to close it, why you could only sit and listen to it as it played over and over.

It made you feel. You had kept your emotions inside the past several months, never allowing yourself to think about the inevitable future. But this song, made you sit back and realize a year had turned to months, now it was only a week. Reality had begun to sink in. Soon, you would be alone again, you would be mourning your own love lost.

Your own forbidden love, doomed from the start, but you both didn't care when you were fifteen. At sixteen, you both still remained hopeful for the future. Now, at eighteen, you could only hope any god listening would grant you any sliver of luck. Unlike whoever this tune was created for.

"It's beautiful." A calm and deep voice spoke from behind you, but you weren't afraid in the slightest. You'd know that voice from anywhere.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be down here so late." You said as you got up from the couch, meeting him half way in between the pillars of the Undercroft that were illuminated in the dim candlelight.

"I should have known you were down here. When I asked Sebastian where you were, he said he saw you sneak in here hours ago. I got worried when you never left." Ominis said as he took your hands in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips as he kissed each one slowly and sensually.

"I didn't realize you were looking for me."

"Darling, there is never a moment I am not looking to be within your presence. Every second without you is torture." His eyes opened, the gorgeous cloudy blue you fell in love with peered straight into yours, as if he could see into your very soul.

"This song... I've never heard of it before." Ominis commented, prompting you to look at the box you left on the table in front of the fireplace.

"I'm not sure who wrote it, but I found the music box the other week and I can't seem to get enough of it."

The both of you stood still and listened to it play, its melody echoing within the walls of the Undercroft as it had been for the last several hours.

"Well, if we are to both be awake at this hour, then it's only right that we make full use of it." Ominis said, making you question what he meant until he pulled you close to him, taking a dancing position as he began to twirl you in the middle expanse of the room.

The candle light was dim, but it didn’t matter. The song played over and over as Ominis held you close, dancing with the tune. The dance he chose wasn't the usual waltzing you both tended to enjoy with the more upbeat music, like the Blue Danube.

No, this dance was slow and steady.

Your fingers laced in his, his other hand on the small of your back while your other hand would play with the hair on the back of his neck. At one point, you kissed his jaw, only promoting him to return the kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a while as you swayed in a circle.

Over, and over, and over again.

It wasn't until the song played for the tenth or eleventh time that he halted your dance, prompting you to raise your head from his chest.

"Darling, I'm so sorry for shouting at you. I don’t want you to remember me that way. The memory I wish to leave with you is my undying love.” he whispered as he laid a kiss on your lips.

You understood his anger at the time, the both of you shouting at each other only days ago, fighting against your inevitable future. Once your NEWTS were finished next week, your graduation would be the very next. Your final year at Hogwarts would be over, along with your relationship with Ominis.

You fought hard for him to see things your way, that you could withstand anything for the sake of your love for each other. While you had no qualms about being introduced to his family, no matter how risky it was, he pleaded for you to say otherwise. You told him you would cut through any witch or wizard who dared to stand between you and him.

"Azkaban be damned." You shouted, and for the first time in a long time, Ominis saw red. He yelled at you, with the rage one would expect from a Gaunt, that you would have no part in his sadistic family.

You had ran off after that, holding back the tears as you slammed the gate shut behind you in the Undercroft. Not realizing at the time that Ominis only wished to protect you.

He knew you were stubborn, it was one of the many qualities that he had come to love about you. However, much like his best friend Sebastian, your stubbornness would turn into recklessness when you didn't think things through. Going against his family, the most powerful and dangerous in the wizarding world, would be the single most reckless thing he could imagine, and it would only end in death and heartache.

His heart couldn't bear the thought of losing you, but if he had to lose you to keep you alive? Then he too, could be just as stubborn.

You couldn't look at him for days, fearing the tears would begin to fall, because you were stubborn in letting this be your reality. This was unacceptable! To lose him? How could you go on? How could you even think of a future without his smile, his laugh, his sarcastic remarks that made your banter fun? How could you imagine a life where Ominis isn't the one you are laid to rest beside when the end has come?

"I can't accept this." You said, clenching your eyes shut as you tried your damned hardest to will the tears away, but they flowed down your cheeks anyway.

"You have to."

You let go. The walls you fought so hard to build had finally broken as you sobbed into his chest, heaving for air as every wail and painful cry tore at your throat. Your whole body shuddered in his arms as he held you so tight that you didn't have to worry about falling to the floor if your legs gave out.

"I'm going to miss you. Every day, for all eternity." He whispered, tightening his hold on you. He began to cry with you, knowing that he thought of every possible action he could take to stay with you, but each one had its own negative reaction.

Run away? They would find you both and surely your death would be certain.

Strike his name off the registry? His father, no matter how disappointed in Ominis he may be, would never allow a single drop of Gaunt blood out of his control.

Stay together? Then his family would more than definitely use your ancient magic forcibly, to use you as a weapon. The moment either of you would try to refuse, he knew either his, yours, or Merlin forbid your children's lives would be made an example of.

In the end, he knew the only choice was to go your separate ways. This was the only way you both could live, and see the other one live as well.

"I hope we are luckier in the next life." You murmured, still grounding yourself in his chest as he heaved his own sadness as quietly as possible. He didn't want you to see the tears that were currently streaming down his face, but you felt them in your hair as they fell.

"I promise I will find you," He began, lifting your chin up as he whispered into your lips, "Until then, and for all eternity, I will always be yours."

His conviction only motivated you to close the distance between your lips and kiss him passionately. Your tongues used to fight a fierce war in each other's mouths, battling for dominance as your passion grew. Now, they only slide together like a dance, a final waltz before the dream would die and the night would end.

The song played over and over.

Melancholic and remorseful, for the lovers who could never be.

[oneofafew]

@thestrangerblog

Short request- Floating Candles Date with Sebastian.

I enjoyed writing this one, there is so much more I could do with it but I tried to keep it short for the time being.

I am loving these requests by the way.

Please excuse the lack of spellcheck and punctuation in this one, I wrote it at 1am when the inspo struck.

It was a note like any other completely unassuming she instantly recognised Sebastian’s hand writing and found herself smiling despite how utterly exhausted she was feeling, carefully she unfolded the parchment and read

Meet me by the bridge into the Forbidden Forest tonight

Love Sebastian x

As She glanced over it two things jumped out at her, the first was the very odd and vague location though by now she was used to his random escapades what struck her the most was the way he’d signed it with his “love” and a kiss at the end of his name, her brow furrowed as she tried to discern what it could mean, was he messing with her?

Sure the two of them had been flirting back and forth all year, casual comments and fleeting touches but she’d brushed it off and almost completely convinced herself it was purely friendly banter, surely if he was to ask her out it wouldn’t be to the edge of the forest, then again, this was Sebastian Sallow we where talking about.

She didn’t need to think on it, come the evening she’d already donned her warmer cloak and set off toward the castle gates making sure to keep out of the way of the prowling prefects, the night was still and a warm breeze ruffled her hair as she approached the location, she vaguely remembered following a similar path with Jackdaw and shuddered at the memory of what lay inside the forest, what on earth did Sebastian have planned?

As she approached the bridge she noticed a familiar figure leaning against the stone as she got nearer she noticed the smirk that was tugging not at all subtly at his lips and couldn’t help but grin in return

“Fancy seeing you here” he quipped standing up straight and approaching her his hands in his pockets his eyes were twinkling with mischief, he was definitely up to something

“You summoned” she said with a smile her eyes meeting his, something flickered within his own as he watched her

“Bring your wand?” He asked simply drawing his own to show her, as she didn’t know what a wand was

She cocked her head to the side with a grin “You said Forbidden Forest OF COURSE I brought my wand Sebastian” she replied flatly her voice dripping with playful sarcasm

“Alright smart arse” he rebuffed her giving her a playful nudge “do you trust me?” He asked positively bouncing on his heels with anticipation

She eyed him suspiciously “that’s debatable” she said too distracted with drawing her own wand to notice the waver in his gaze at her words

He swallowed his eyes raking over her face before he cleared his throat “give us some light will you?” He asked, although he’d tried to sound casual his voice betrayed him and he felt his cheeks heat as she regarded him suspiciously

“Why can’t you do it?” She asked gesturing toward his wand

Sebastian sighed softly shaking his head “just cast the damn spell, you’ll see” he teased

She considered him for a moment before shrugging and holding up her wand “Lumos!”

Instantly a group of floating candles appeared above their heads, she glanced wearily at Sebastian who was positively beaming, like a child showing their parent a new drawing, before she could question it however the candles started to float away from them, she felt a hand on hers and before she had time to process that action, she was being pulled along the path toward the forest.

The two walked hand in hand the candles lighting the way, the sound of the grass beneath them crunching and the evening air gently blowing through the trees filling the silence around them

“Sebastian what-“ she began her curiosity getting the better of her

Sebastian squeezed her hand reassuringly “shh you’ll see” he said his voice laced with a quiet excitement

As they rounded a corner the candles stopped her eyes fell on something she hadn’t expected to see, an iron table with two chairs perched at the edge of the forest the candles spread out around the set up casting a warm glow around it she noticed there was a picnic basket on the table and she turned to look at Sebastian who was looking at her expectantly

“I thought it was about time I took you on a proper romantic date” he said proudly gesturing toward the table and chairs

She regarded him for a moment vaguely aware of the butterflies that had now taken up residence in her chest before breaking into a smile “I suppose some would consider this a romantic location” she mused out loud, instantly regretting it when she saw his smile falter slightly “I mean it IS very you” she clarified taking the seat he’d pulled out for her

“Do you like it?” Sebastian asked taking the seat opposite her, his eyes boring into hers awaiting approval, he was all too aware how he looked like a love sick puppy and was secretly thankful he’d picked such a secluded location.

She nodded tucking her hair behind her ears looking around her “it’s beautiful” she said reaching across the table to take his hand in hers her heart thudding violent against her rib cage as she did so his fingers threaded through hers and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment

“Right, check out this haul” Sebastian said suddenly sitting up straight and opening the pick if basket to reveal all manner of cakes and pastries from the kitchen “very generous those elves in the kitchens when you’ve got a Gaunt by your side” he said with a wink as she peered into the basket ladened with treats and chuckled softly.

After eating their fill of sweet treats they sat and talked for what seemed like hours before they decided it would be wise to head back to the castle as they stood a chill descended upon them and she shivered slightly, Sebastian was by her side in an instant draping his robe over her shoulders with a grin

“I’ve always wanted to do that” he said adjusting it on her shoulders his hands lingering there as their eyes met and they shared in their grins

Sebastian’s hands fisted in the fabric of the robe and tugged her closer she let out of a soft gasp and he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his mouth as he eyes flickered from hers to her own lips, he stole himself only for a moment before bending his head and kissing her his lips barely grazing hers until she pushed forward and all bets were off, his hand moved from her robe to the back of her head his fingers threading through her hair he felt her arms wind their way around his neck and heard a soft moan escape her only serving to spur him on further

Dizzy and breathless the two broke apart, her cheeks where visibly flushed even in the pale moonlight

“We should get back … before they lock the gates” she said breathlessly after a moments silence

Sebastian nodded taking her hand in his pulling her close to him as they set off back to the castle “you know, I reckon the undercrofts free right now” he said with a grin watching her face as she gave him a knowing look

“I dare say it is” she mused feigning innocence as they descended the steps into the castle earning herself a nudge.

The two shared a glance and broke out into identical smiles Sebastian eagerly tugging her toward the Undercroft mentally thanking every god he could think of that he’d come across that particular spot in the Forest.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

In the spirit of "Reblog Your Own Work," here's a story I wrote almost two years ago, that I'm really proud of. I originally posted it in 5 parts, so to shake things up a bit, here it is all in 1 part. It's a retelling of the Grimm Brothers fairy tale "The Frog King," this time with aroace and disability representation, and the squicky elements of child marriage taken out.

Under the Linden Tree

Once upon a time, there lived a king who was widowed, and remarried. His first wife had been a true princess of a wealthy kingdom, and the daughters they had together, Zephyra and Aurora, were as lovely as a summer breeze and the dawn. His living wife had only became queen through marriage to him. But she was exceedingly lovely, and gracious, and kind. And because she was the only daughter in a house full of sons, the king thought surely she would deliver him a son of her own. Instead, he got a third daughter, whom they named Galantha.

As she grew, Galantha became even more beautiful and gracious, until, as she approached womanhood, she began to outshine even her mother. Her elder sisters, once happy playmates, now teased her, and reminded her, whenever they had the chance, that her lineage would never be as great as theirs, and that she was last in line to be married, and most likely to a baron, if not a common paddler.

Galantha would sigh, and say she knew this. She would also turn away and hide her smile. She had little interest in being wooed. And being the mother of a future king just seemed like an extra weight upon her head that she would rather do without.

But Fate and Nature had little care for her secret desires. Every day, she could feel the eyes of the courtiers watching her. Their murmurs of praise for her beauty and grace seemed like the constant drone of crickets in her ears. On festival days and market days, minstrels could be heard singing songs about how the sun, itself, was jealous of her beauty.

Whenever she could, Galantha escaped to her favorite place in the royal forest, where the Tree of Oaths stood: a linden tree with a trunk wider than the span of her arms, with leaves broader than her palm, and a well between the fork of its roots, formed from a thousand years of rain and dew dripping from the leaves above. According to the law, it was forbidden to tell a lie within its shade; according to legend, it was impossible. Its crown had spread wide enough to preside over murderers' trials, and lovers' weddings, since this kingdom had been the size of a village. And these were recorded with carvings in its bark, some so old that even the alphabets they were written in had been forgotten.

She would spend whole days here, tossing and juggling her golden ball (her favorite plaything), entranced by how it glinted in the dim light.

But the king started grumbling that she was neglecting her royal duties, that she was growing too old to spend her days amusing herself with a mere child's plaything.

Her mother would lay her fingertips on his arm, smile in that way she had, and, almost imperceptibly, shake her head.

Then, the king would sigh, and say that he would permit her private walks, for now. But soon, she'd have to grow up, and perform her duties for the court.

It was after one such scolding, when Galantha distracted by worries, that the ball slipped from her fingers. It sank into the well before her cry of dismay had escaped her lips.

She sat mourning her loss, and wondering if her father would ever let her go out into the forest alone again, when the biggest frog she'd ever seen popped its head out of the water.

"What would you grant me," the frog asked, in a perfectly clear human voice, "if I returned your golden ball?"

Galantha stammered a few syllables before she regained her composure. "Forgive me," she said, practicing her diplomacy as her father never imagined, "but you must understand how it would me unwise of me to negotiate with a complete stranger."

The frog blinked in the slow, deliberate, way that frogs had, and the princess took that as acknowledgment.

"Three questions, then," she said, "I think is fair."

The frog blinked again.

"First question: Are you a frog enchanted with the gift of human speech," she asked, "or are you a man trapped in the form of a frog?"

The frog responded with a long, rolling, croak. And then, as if startled by the sound of his own voice, disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

The princess sighed. Maybe it was true that the frog could not lie to her, here, but neither the legends nor the law said anything about answering her in her own language. When the surface of the water stilled, and the frog had not yet returned, she thought the interview over, and started for home.

She had not gone three steps, however, when she heard a small croak from behind her, sounding, for all the world, like an embarrassed cough.

So—a man, she thought.

She smoothed the smile off her expression and returned to the well's edge.

"Second question: is this form one of your own choosing?"

"No."

"Final question: Was this form imposed upon you as punishment for a crime, or the breaking of an oath?"

The frog (or rather, man) was silent. She was nearly ready to take that as a refusal to answer, and to walk away, without his help.

But then, the frog took a deep breath, and let out an uncertain "No." Then sighed wearily, in a way that was unmistakably human.

She smiled. "All right, then," she said, "I accept your offer. I will grant you anything you wish that's mine to give, short of my body, or my will."

"Then my wish is to pass between the walls where you have tread," he said.

She was taken aback. "That's all?"

"That is all I ask from you, Your Highness," the frog replied.

She nodded. "That price is certainly a fair one," she answered. "And I'll grant it freely, once you return with my treasure."

The frog disappeared below the water.

The surface grew still.

There was no sign that any living thing moved beneath. Her gold ball was heavy, she thought, and even very large frogs must have limited strength. So, with a sigh, she started the long walk home.

But soon, there was a "plip, plop, plip" on the path behind her. She turned around. The frog hopped after her, carrying her treasure in his mouth.

She gasped, and managed to not to laugh.

The frog dropped the ball at her feet. "You promised."

Galantha admitted that she had, and thanked him. As she lowered herself to pick him up, she was nearly overcome by a horrid feeling, as if her body, itself, were recoiling in disgust.

It took all her strength to resist hurling the frog to the ground. Still, Galantha strode home with the frog under her arm and the golden ball in her hand. She passed through the gate of her palace courtyard with her chin held high, barely acknowledging the guards.

And at that moment, the strange sensation of disgust faded so much, she hardly noticed it. She made her way to the throne room with a light and playful step.

Her sisters squealed in harmony at the sight of the frog, and hid behind their thrones. Her mother gasped, and looked a bit ill (and for that, Galantha was sorry). Her father was the angriest, rising from his throne, red in the face, and signaling for his guards. He had just opened his mouth to give his orders, when the frog addressed him in the most courteous and proper royal etiquette.

Galantha then broke her family's astonished silence by recalling, in the most flowery language she could imagine, how this wondrous frog had swum to the bottom of that unfathomed well, and retrieved her precious family heirloom, the golden ball.

"All he asked, in return," she concluded, "was to pass between the walls where I have tread. It seemed a small price to pay."

Upon hearing that, the king agreed. He insisted on leading a tour of the palace himself, with his wife and daughters behind in a small parade. He repeated the story the princess had told to each courtier they met, saying that, as a courteous and generous monarch, it was his duty to ensure that the just payment was given to even the lowliest of his subjects, even those as lowly as an ugly frog.

The frog-man under her arm, if he were able to show expression, was very good at keeping his opinion to himself. For her own part, Galantha struggled to hide her embarrassment.

The tour ended in the kitchen, and the king was making a show of his magnanimity toward the servants, sniffing all the dishes as they roasted and bubbled away.

As if struck by a sudden thought, he turned to the frog tucked under the princess's arm, and said, with a grand sweep of his arm: "It would be a great honor to me, Sir Frog, if you would stay, and be my daughter's special guest at dinner, tonight."

Her two elder sisters, bringing up the rear of their little parade, giggled behind their hands.

The frog shifted his weight under her arm and opened his mouth as if to speak. But in the end, said nothing.

Galantha was ready to object on his behalf, and her own. But her father looked her in the eye with a frown, daring her to disobey his wishes a second time that day.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Yes. Of course it would be my honor. Please, be my guest."

No sooner were those words out of her mouth than the strange, horrid, feeling strengthened once more, spreading from the frog like ink from a tipped bottle. She fought to keep from hurling him to the floor that very instant.

At dinner, an extra golden chair was put to Galantha's right, and on it was placed a fine silk cushion. The princess set the frog on the cushion as graciously as she could, and then she took a portion of each food on her plate, put it in a fine china saucer, and set the saucer on the cushion beside her guest.

But the frog objected: "That well was very deep and cold," he said, "and that golden ball was so heavy. If it weren't for me, your treasure would be lost forever. I should sit beside you, and eat from your own plate."

The princess was about to object that this was more than she had promised him.

But before she could say anything, her father the king replied: "Quite right. Quite right. A princess must always be a generous hostess."

So Galantha lifted the frog from the chair to the table, while Zephyra and Aurora squirmed and made faces.

In between bites, the frog and the king discussed political matters, and the state of diplomacy between the various neighboring kingdoms.

Galantha's mind raced, trying to figure out who this might be. She tried to change the subject, but her father was thoroughly charmed. The queen, when she caught her daughter's eye, smiled and shook her head in the same disapproving manner that she had with the king, and Galantha found that, she, too, could not resist her mother's wishes.

As the evening's chatter melted into yawns, the king said that since it was now dark, and it was a long way to the forest, their guest should spend the night.

Galantha agreed. and picked the frog up into the crook of her arm, preparing to carry her guest to the fountain the center of the royal courtyard, where he would be comfortable in the cool and damp.

But instead, the king said: "Of course, as my daughter's honored guest, you are welcome to sleep in her chambers."

So she was obligated to carry the frog up to her rooms. With every step, the strange feeling in her body intensified. Still, she walked to her rooms with as much courtesy as she could muster, filled the basin on the washstand with fresh water for the frog, and set him down.

"Please look away," she said, "as I change for bed."

The frog dipped his head, and quietly crawled behind the mirror.

Just as she about to slip under her covers, the frog came out from behind the mirror, and called out to her. "Is this any way to treat an honored guest?" he demanded. "To give your guest a cold, hard place to sleep, and keep the feather bed for yourself? I should like to lie in your bed, and be as warm as you are."

And with that, the princess's last bit of patience finally snapped. "If you want my bed, Sir Frog," she said, "you shall have it!" She picked him up in both hands, and, giving in to every shiver of revulsion, hurled him against the wall.

What happened next was such a shock, she spun on her heel as though pulling her hand from a fire: a full-grown man in her bed, alive, perfect as an artist's ideal, and naked as a frog.

"You're a prince?"

"I was a king, once."

She hugged herself, willing her heart to slow. "And the spell is broken now?"

He did not answer 'Yes.'

"I must," he said at last, "receive recompense for service rendered to a human, pass between walls where a human has trod, share a meal off a human's dish, and--" he took a breath, "share a human's bed from midnight 'til first cock's crow."

As if to punctuate his point, the hall clock chimed the eleventh hour's last quarter.

"You were afraid I'd say no, I suppose," she said, "if you'd told me this, when first I asked."

"I asked for everything I wanted from you."

"And I must only 'share' the bed?"

"Only that."

"Even so, you understand: Because of my station, this will count as a betrothal between us?"

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. "Yes," he said, finally.

"And if I gave you the bed outright, and slept on the floor?"

She heard a catch in his breath that sent a shiver down her spine. "Please," he said.

"All right, then. Keep your face to the wall and your hands to yourself, or we will find out what happens."

When she was certain that he was faced toward the wall, under the covers, she lay down over them. She could feel him at her back, that strange, horrid feeling still there, though fainter, now, like the heat from a single candle. At some point, she must have fallen asleep, because she had the distinct sensation of waking up before the sun.

When, at last, she was released by the sound of the cock's crow, she rose quietly, careful not to wake the man sleeping behind her, and washed her face and hands.

The cock crowed a second time.

There was a silent flash of light in the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she saw a full set of clothes laid out across the dowry chest at the foot of her bed. The coat was of red velvet, with gold buttons, and there was a broad purple sash, embroidered with heraldric designs she did not recognize.

The princess stepped into the foyer of her bedchamber to dress in private.

At least it looked like a king's outfit, she thought, even though the stranger in her bed seemed far too young. But some, she reminded herself, inherit their throne before they're old enough to pull up their own stockings.

The cock crowed a third time.

She heard him yawn, the bed creak as he rose, and the unfamiliar rhythm of his bare feet on the floor.

She brushed and braided her hair as she listened to the rustling of cloth as he dressed himself.

When she heard that his boots were on, she took a deep breath, counted slowly to five, and stepped back into the main apartment of her chambers.

She'd prepared herself, but seeing him was still a shock. She looked away almost as quickly as she had the night before, and dropped into a curtsy. "Good morning, Your Majesty," she said, feeling the blush spread across her cheeks. "Please forgive me, for--"

His chuckle cut her off, and she glanced up. A smile spread from the corner of his eye to his lips.

"Forgive thee?" The smile faded, but his expression remained soft. "I should thank thee, instead." He looked down at his hands and flexed his fingers. "Thou saved my life."

"I-- what?"

"Though it feels odd, having so much bone, again," he said, instead of answering her directly, running one hand down his side, over his ribs. "Did I hear correctly, last night," he asked, changing the subject, "that thy name is 'Galantha?'"

"Indeed, Your Majesty," she said.

His brows knitted for a split second. "'Milk Flower?' 'Snowdrop?' Princess Snowdrop?" He seemed on the verge of laughing, but managed to swallow it down.

"That would have been Sire's choice," she answered, "but my mother overruled him, Your Majesty."

He cocked his head to one side. "Please. Don't let me have the advantage of thee. I am named 'Cinnabar'."

She studied his face. There was nothing about him that suggested the fiery hues of that dangerous stone. His complexion was as pale as someone who had spent years in the shadows. His eyes were the dark brown of late summer honey. And his hair was so black, like a raven's feathers, that it glinted blue.

"Cinnabar?" she repeated.

He chuckled, and seemed to be about to say something more, when there was a light, familiar, rap on her chamber door.

"Come in, Margarete," she said, without thinking.

Her lady-in-waiting opened the door and poked her head around. "Good morning, Your Highness--" Her eyebrows rose barely a hair, and she (almost invisibly) mouthed: "frog?"

The princess bit her lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity. "Good morning, Margarete. Is breakfast ready?"

"Yes, Your Highness. His Majesty waits on you." She curtsied quickly and backed out the door.

The young king tugged at his sash, smoothing wrinkles that weren't there. "Well," he said, "they're expecting us, though probably not like this." He offered her his arm.

After a moment's hesitation, she took it.

She could sense the servants watching them, in the well-practiced way of not seeming to watch them at all. Halfway to the stairs, Lady Caroline, who had once been her nursery maid, caught Galantha's eye as she passed in the hallway, and smiled softly.

He ended up leaning more on her, on the way down the stairs, than she on him, testing his weight with each step, but managed to hide his uncertainty as they entered the banquet hall.

Her father was standing at the head of the table, red-faced, with clenched fists. He glared at the richly dressed stranger, then at her.

"So, it's true!?" he said, "I wasn't imagining the whispering of servants!"

"Your Majesty," the queen said, laying her fingers on his arm, her voice light, and clear, and cold, as a silver bell, "remember your royal duty to invited guests."

"Invited? Invite-- guests?!"

Cinnabar bowed. "Good morning, Your Majesty," he said. "I hope you had a restful sleep."

Her father sputtered. "I know that voice!"

"I am honored you remember it. And may I say what a pleasure it was to be a guest on your table, last night."

"On? 'On my table'? That thing? Thou!?"

"Yes. That was I."

The king huffed, and, with a sweep of his arm, gestured at the sash that the young king wore. "This bunting and glitter-- are they true emblems of royal office, or are they some player's costume?"

"This sash, along with my scepter, and crown," Cinnabar said, his voice quiet but tense, "is, indeed, an emblem of royal duty and privilege, bestowed upon me according to the laws of my homeland."

The king turned his gaze on Galantha. "And am I to take it, then, that there must now be a wedding?"

She bowed her head. "Yes, Sire."

It wasn't until then that he seemed to notice all his guests waiting for him. He nodded and sat, and signaled for others to join him, adding: "I suppose we'll need another chair."

The young king smiled and nodded at the servant who brought it, as if he had been welcomed to the table with the same generosity as the night before.

Zephyra leaned over and murmured in her ear: "I wish thee the best, truly," she said, with a catch in her voice. "We had some happy times, didn't we?"

Galantha nodded and smiled as best she could through the flurry of quiet congratulations.

She was just beginning to relax when a servant set a large, sweetened, bread between herself and her betrothed, with the knife placed on his side of the platter. It was gilded with a glaze of egg wash and saffron, decorated with a pattern of sliced, toasted almonds, and perfectly sculpted into the shape of a frog, bulbous eyes and all.

He coughed and looked around at the faces of those seated near him.

"Oh, dear!" Aurora said, giggling, and then quickly added: "It's nothing personal, Your Majesty. This is a custom in our country, for good luck, and a fruitful marriage. Even the common people do this, though not so richly."

Galantha wanted to bury her face in her hands. Instead, she nodded. "I didn't think there was time to make one for us."

He laughed. "Oh. All's well, then," he said. He picked up the knife and studied the frog a moment, before slicing it down the middle, from nose to rump, revealing the stuffing of dried fruit, nuts, and candied citron.

Turning the platter so that both halves were equally within her reach, he waited for Galantha to make her choice.

She tried not to think how things might have gone differently, last night, as she put her half on the plate before her.

The young king smiled. He popped the eye from his half of the frog into his mouth, and chuckled.

The elder king was silent and frowning throughout the meal, which was consumed and cleared away with all the haste of a picnic interrupted by rolls of thunder.

Galantha was only granted enough time to change into the gown that had been set aside for her marriage ceremony. And her only wedding gift was a wallet of sewing and spinning tools, along with her mother's blessing bound up in it.

The phrase "Husband and wife" was barely out of the priest's mouth when they heard the rattle and clatter of a carriage outside.

Her new husband nearly sprinted through the chapel door as the carriage slowed to a stop.

It was one of the finest Galantha had ever seen, with gilded eagles on the finials of the top, and scroll work of inlaid gems in twisting, vine-like patterns along the side. The six horses pulling the carriage had silver bells in their bridles, though they, themselves, were the sturdy, piebald, sort that Galantha had seen pulling farmers' plows, rather than the parade horses in whom elegant coat color was prized.

And it was also odd, she thought, that with a carriage so richly appointed, that there was only the coachman as servant-- that there were no footmen attending, to help keep the carriage steady on the highway, to watch out for ruts, or remove obstacles in the road ahead. And she also noted that the gold braiding on the coachman's livery was just a bit frayed, and there were spots in the sleeves of his coat that had been expertly darned, with evident care. But what sort of kingdom was she marrying into, if so much wealth was put into things, but not people?

The coachman alighted, and was in the act of dropping to one knee to honor his master when the young king interrupted him, and pulled him up into an embrace.

"Heinrich? Heinrich!" he exclaimed. "My good man-- it- it's been too long."

Heinrich pulled away-- a little too quickly, Galantha thought. But he was still smiling, and there were tears on his ruddy, weathered, cheeks, dampening the neat white beard on his chin.

He sniffled, still smiling, and squaring his shoulders, turned and bowed to her. "Your Majesty," he said. And he offered his hand to help her up into the carriage.

"Please, Sir," she said, "before we go, there's someone--some place--I need to say 'goodbye' to."

The coachman's mouth tightened into a thin line, and his brow furrowed.

Galantha feared he would refuse.

But her husband spoke up. "I know the place," he said. "It's not far. I'll go with her, and make sure she won't get lost."

The coachman hesitated for just a moment, but then, with a quick bow of his head, said: "Very well, Your Majesty. As you wish."

And with that, her new husband laced his fingers firmly with hers, and strode off toward the path leading to the linden tree. Galantha had to walk in double step to keep up.

As soon as they turned a corner, and his golden carriage was no longer in sight, however, he let go of her hand. He leaned close. "This way, he won't leave without thee," he said.

"Would he do that?" Galantha asked. For a fleeting moment, she imagined running away, but just as quickly dismissed the idea.

"Heinrich's… Something's…" He sighed. "I'm sure he's just eager to get me home."

The path narrowed. He stepped back to walk a few strides behind her, giving her some privacy, but also driving her forward, not giving her a chance to tarry.

He stopped at the edge of the linden tree's canopy, while she walked up to its trunk alone, patting it as though it were a dear friend's shoulder. Then, on an impulse, she took a penknife from her pocket, and carved a 'G' and 'C', back-to-back, into the its bark, along with the date, to join all the ancient inscriptions recorded there.

Then, she cut one of the slender, leafy, branches to take with her. She just could not bear to leave this old friend behind entirely. She dipped her kerchief into the well, and wrapped the wet cloth around the cut end of the branch. Then she hurried back to meet her new husband.

He fairly pulled he along the whole way back, only slowing down as the path widened, to allow her to come up beside him, before quickening his stride again.

No sooner were they back in the carriage than the coachman cracked his whip, and they sped off at an almost unnatural speed, the horses in full gallop before they even had taken three strides at a trot. The landscape outside the windows was nothing but a blur.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "Must thou drive with such haste?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," his servant called back. "But if we do not pass through the Capital's gate by sunset, all is lost."

Galantha looked down at the linden branch and bit her lip. How much had she risked, she wondered, for a mere sentimental token that wouldn't even last the week?

"We did not tarry long," her husband said, above the noises of the carriage. "All's well. All will be well." He put his fingers lightly on her arm to draw her attention, and managed a weak smile. "Heinrich is one of the most sensible men I've known. If he really thought our errand would waste too much time, he wouldn't have let us go."

Still, he seemed as full of worry as she.

"The spell?"

"It's broken. But not all trouble is magic."

Nothing more was said between them. After a while, Galantha realized he'd fallen asleep.

Suddenly weary, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Memories slipped into nightmare. She was both juggling her golden ball, and trapped inside it: up and down, and back and forth, until she was falling without end, into an icy darkness.

Galantha woke with a start, and for a moment, she feared they'd missed the sunset, before realizing they were driving through a forest, trees on either side blocking out the sun.

He was awake, too, staring out the window.

"May I ask you something, Your Majesty?"

"Please, don't let rank stand between us; call me 'Cinnabar'. Interview, or conversation?" he asked.

"Both, I think."

He gestured toward the linden branch and opened his hand. When she passed it to him, he nodded for her to continue.

"Who cursed you?" she asked.

He sighed. "I don't know if anyone did. Thou asked if it were a punishment for a crime, or broken oath. Until I heard 'no' in my own voice, I'd long wondered the same thing." He seemed about to say more, but just grimaced, as if the thought smelled of something noxious.

"How long?" she asked, after a moment.

"I see no change in my own face. But Heinrich's--. We were—he was my assigned playmate, as a boy."

Galantha pushed down the thought that this made him nearly as old as her father, along with wondering if that mattered. "If no one told you," she asked, instead, "how did you know what would break the spell?"

He shrugged, winced, and rolled his shoulders. "The same way I know to scratch an itch, perhaps. I never thought it could be broken, until thou came to the well. I truly thought passing between the walls where you had walked would be enough."

"But then it wasn't."

"Then it wasn't, nor was the meal."

"And if Father hadn't invited you to dinner?"

"Well, there were so many others I could have asked, once I was inside."

"Whom?"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Enough!" Annoyance rang through his voice. "We're puzzling over troubles that never came to pass."

"I'm sorry, Your M--"

"Eh?"

"Cinnabar. Forgive me."

"For this? Easily."

Galantha turned and watched the landscape roll past. The sun was high, now, and there were almost no shadows on the ground. The forest was already thinning, unfamiliar mountains visible through the trees. They'd left her homeland while she was sleeping.

Perhaps it was better this way, she thought.

"May I ask thee something?" he asked.

"Certainly, Y-yes." She waited for him to hand back the linden branch before the questions began. But he seemed to forget that it was even in his hand.

"Didst thou mean to kill me, last night?"

"Yes."

"Ha-ha! That was quick."

"Well," Galantha counted off on her fingers. "You wouldn't-- couldn't," she corrected herself, "even tell me if you were man or beast. Father was boasting about things Mother, my sisters, and I aren't allowed to whisper, and your demands were exceeding what I'd promised. For all I knew, you were a wizard, or an assassin in league with one."

"Hm," he acknowledged, nodding.

"And--" she stopped herself.

"'And'? What?"

"It's of no matter."

"It seems to be of a little matter, at least." He swallowed hard. "Dost thou fear me?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Y-Cinnabar," she said. "But touching you-- being near you-- was horrid. It lent strength to my arm. Like, like…"

"A tunic woven from wool and stinging nettles? Only, so tight, that it's under thy skin?"

"Yes!" A chuckle escaped her. "Very!"

"The magic," he said. "I suppose, as the strands loosened their hold on me, they entangled thee."

He was so quiet, Galantha thought he'd fallen back asleep. Then he spoke: "Still, thou tookst pity on me."

She glanced at him before looking back out the window. The forest was behind them completely, now. The midday light made her squint. "You said 'Please.'"

He chuckled. "The magic word."

"You didn't have to. It was in your power, then, to, well--" she cut herself off.

He started to speak, then stopped himself, once, then again, before asking: "Wouldst thou have asked my forgiveness, if I'd been dressed as a common shepherd?"

"Maybe," she said. "But not so quick."

"What?! Wh-?"

"You were fluent in courtly idiom," she explained. "You were at ease dining with a king. That cannot be learned through tutoring. A shepherd's garb would have seemed a bigger deceit than a frog's skin."

He threw back his head and laughed. "If our laws did not forbid it," he said,"I'd appoint thee High Judge."

Galantha almost let herself laugh along with him, when she felt the carriage slow. She noticed hedgerows along road, and other signs that they were entering an inhabited place.

"Heinrich?" her husband called, sitting straighter, and scanning the view, "are we reaching the Capital? I don't recognize--".

"We are only half-way, Your Majesty," the coachman called back. "But our own royal horses have boarded at the inn's stables, so they will be refreshed for the homeward journey."

Soon, they were driving through the city proper. People in the streets stopped what they were doing to stare at the spectacle, as Heinrich navigated through the ever-narrowing streets to the ally at the inn-yard.

Heinrich, taking on the role of footman, alighted from his seat, and hurried into the inn.

A moment or two later, he emerged, leading someone Galantha thought must be the innkeeper.

It was only when Heinrich had come back to the carriage door that her husband looked down at the linden branch in his hand, seemingly aware of it for the first time since Galantha had handed it too him.

"It would be terrible if this were trod upon, or if someone mistook it for kindling," he said. "Would it be well with the if I gave it to Heinrich to look after?"

She managed a smile: "If you think it best, Y-Cinnabar," she said. She turned her face partly away from him, and lowered her veil, as her mother had first taught her, years ago, when she first realized how extraordinarily beautiful her daughter was becoming.

After Heinrich helped them down from the carriage, the young king handed the branch to his coachman, and murmured something in his servant's ear.

Heinrich frowned and shook his head, but he still accepted the linden branch with care. slipping it into the buttonhole on his lapel, to free up his hands, before turning his attention to the horses.

She could see the whites of the poor beasts' eyes, and their coats were twitching as though they were being swarmed by biting flies from head to foot, or as if they were draped in blankets of wool and stinging nettles. It must have been magic, after all, that allowed them to pull the carriage so swiftly, and so safely, over wilderness roads that were little more than ruts in the ground.

She turn to follow her husband and the innkeeper, who led them to a private corner, behind a curtain, where his wife served them a meal of soup and bread, with a smile and a few words of congratulations, before courtseying, and leaving to attend her other patrons.

They ate their meal in silence, not quite comfortably. With each bite, she was aware of the time passing. Should it really be taking this long to hitch up a fresh team of horses to the carriage? Or was it only anxiety that made the time seem to pass so slowly?

Galantha tried to think of pleasantries for conversation, but it was like fumbling for objects in the dark. Several times, she thought he would speak, but in the end, he said nothing, either.

And though he smiled at her whenever their eyes chanced to meet, there was a tension behind his features. Was it regret, or anger, or simple weariness? She couldn't guess, nor keep from wondering.

When Heinrich came, at last, to say that it was time to go, the linden branch was no longer in his buttonhole. And the slightest of smiles passed between master and servant.

Their silence continued in the carriage as they sped over the ground. When they had left her home, early that morning, the shadows were long and blue on the ground, stretching far out behind them. Now the shadows were long and blue again, and stretching out in front of them.

The land was hillier, now, and they rolled up and down like a ship at sea. They were driving ever closer to the mountains that she'd glimpsed through the forest trees. Towns, and farmland, and patches of wilderness sped past her window as if they were fence posts along the road.

Despite it all, it seemed to Galantha that they were standing still. The sun was so low in the sky, now, that whenever the carriage rolled down the slope of a hill, they were cast into shadow. She gripped the edge of the seat, and willed the carriage ever faster.

Her husband patted the back of her hand. "All's well," he said, barely audible above the screeching and rattling of the carriage, "all will be well." He pointed to the view ahead. "Almost home," he assured her.

And there, she noticed, growing ever clearer with each moment, were the walls of a city atop the mountain they were climbing, with flags flying from the watchtowers.

The road was growing steeper, now, and more winding, back and forth. Sometimes, the Capital City was in front of them; sometimes, out her side window, as the road they were traveling snaked its way up the side of the mountain. Miraculously, the sun seemed to slow in its descent toward the horizon, as if it knew that it had to wait for them.

And then, at last, the road leveled out, and the walls of the Capital City was directly before them-- so high that Galantha couldn't see the flags flying from the towers.

Heinrich finally slowed the horses' gallop to a canter, and then to a trot, as the great iron gate in the City's walls rose to admit them.

Trumpets blared a fanfare, welcoming them home, as the last sliver of the sun finally disappeared below the horizon.

And then, all of a sudden, came three, loud, metallic, bangs, louder than the blaring of the trumpets, louder than any of the complaints that the carriage joints and springs had made during their entire journey: a noise like giant watch springs breaking, or three swords being broken over stones, that left her ears ringing.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "is the carriage-- are we--?"

"The carriage is fine, Your Majesty," he said. "Those were-- those were three iron bands I'd put around my heart."

"Heinrich, why?! Wert thou injured?"

"To keep it from breaking in two for grief, Your Majesty," he answered, "when you were lost to us."

Her husband slumped back in his seat, his shoulders sagging. "Oh, Heinrich." There was a catch in his voice, and Galantha noticed there were tears in his eyes.

Soon though, he sat upright, alert and tense, and, with a touch, drew her attention out the window.

The street was brighter than twilight, lit with torches mounted to balcony railings. A multitude of banners, of several different heraldric designs, were draped from nearly all the windows. Crowds had gathered, as if everyone in the city had left their suppers and come out of doors. Many were carrying weapons. Some had bows, a few of those more richly dressed had muskets on their shoulders, and a few looked to be carrying swords they didn't really know how to use, taken down from the attic, perhaps, or from the wall, where they had been hung in honor of an ancestor. But there was no chatter: no calling back and forth between friends, no traders calling out their wares, no children.

"Heinrich," he called, "is it a tournament, or--?"

"These are no games, Your Majesty," his servant answered, his voice grim.

The young king scanned the scene, his eyes flicking from person to person, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He took her hand. A look of determination spread across his face, and he squared his shoulders.

As they wound through the streets, they continued to see people of all classes and trades, from beggars, to cobblers, carpenters to councilmen, all lined up and ready to fight each other, with whatever weapons or tools of their trade they had to hand. As the carriage passed by, the crowds shifted around them. Some slipped into alleys, or back behind the doors of their houses. But others walked up alongside the carriage, and behind, until they lead a massive parade all the way to the gate in the wall of the young king's palace garden.

Heinrich stopped the carriage, alighted from his seat, and came down to open the carriage door. "Your country rejoices in your return, Your Majesties," he said.

Her husband took her hand as he helped her down from the carriage. "Welcome home, my wife, my queen, Your Majesty," he said.

These words acted on the crowd like pebbles dropped dropped into water, and the people moved back, to give her room, though Galantha could sense their eyes on her, as they turned to see this stranger their king was bringing home. She was glad they could not see her blushing beneath her veil.

King Cinnabar bowed and smiled to those who bowed and curtsied to him, as he led her through the courtyard garden toward the palace. But he stepped over those who prostrated themselves, as if they were mere impediments in the road.

As her husband walked with her up the steps to the palace's doors, Heinrich followed a step behind his left shoulder, while others in the crowd tended to the horses and carriage.

It wasn't quite as still, inside the palace, as those in fairy tales she'd learned, where everything is frozen in time. She could hear distant footsteps, and distant voices. But compared to her own home, the air felt chill, and stagnant, as if there hadn't been enough people here, moving about, and carrying on with life.

Her husband put his hand on her shoulder. "Galantha, I have a wedding present for you."

She put out her hands, and felt the weight of it, first.

It was a flowerpot of white stoneware, with a decoration painted in a terracotta slip around the edge, of roses and grapevines. And planted there was her linden branch.

"I wanted to pick it out myself," he said, his voice sounding like it was far away-- like it was on the other side of a window, "but Heinrich thought it unwise for me to go through the market dressed like this. So he sent one of the stable boys instead."

Everything felt far away. The stone floor under her feet felt as unsteady as a stack of feather beds. She was so tired.

He guided her to a bench along one of the walls and sat down beside her. "Galantha? Your Majesty?"

She wanted to tell him she heard him. She wanted to say 'Thank you.' But the words disappeared in her throat.

"Your Highness?" he persisted, "Princess?" He brushed aside her veil and whispered in her ear. "Snowdrop?"

She meant to laugh at that, but it came out as a sob, first one, then another, and another, as unbidden, uncontrolled, and absurd, as a case of the hiccoughs. "I tho- I thought you'd- you'd thro--"

"Thrown it away?"

She gulped and nodded, holding her breath, to be sure she heard him.

"Why would I ever? I would never!" he said, as though it were one long word. "This is thy connection to home (mine, too, for a while). And it's a far stronger reminder of our promises than any ring-maker's trinket, or ink spilled on parchment. Hm? When it's our anniversary, we'll plant--"

Something invisible, as fine as spider silk, and sharp as a knife, snapped from around her own heart, then. And she wept. She couldn't stop. It felt like she would never stop.

But at last, the flood eased, and her breath came without catching in her chest. However long it had been, the light had shifted; it was truly night, now. Cinnabar was still there, his arm around her shoulder.

He was humming something in her ear. It sounded like it might be a children's rhyme, or a lullaby. It wasn't any she had heard before, though she could tell it was out of tune.

"Thou'rt a terrible singer," she told him, smiling.

He laughed, touching his forehead to her temple. "Always have been," he said, "every day of my life." He stood. "Come," he said. "Thou gavest me a tour of thy home. Shall I return the favor?"

She took his hand. "Yes," she said. "Thank thee, Cinnabar."

As they passed by a window, Galantha could see that her cheeks were stained with dust from the roads, her eyes were red from crying, and her braids were all askew. She was still a beautiful woman, perhaps, but no longer one that would make the sun jealous.

She sighed, and smiled.

[cowgirl-ish]

hi i don’t know where else to share this but i’m currently trying to pitch a show (which i might start posting about on here) but here’s a little thing i wrote where i described all the characters as perfume notes

if you’re interested, the logline for the series is “A bomb is dropped on Stanley Palmer’s life when he leaves the fallout shelter he’s spent his entire life in, and struggles to learn to survive in a world he’s been conditioned to fear, despite the fact that, to his surprise, war isn’t raging.” to provide context.

Stan

The remains of a campfire that was abandoned put out before it had any chance to create a spark, but burned enough to know you were supposed to be something you don’t think you’ll ever be. Notes of something akin to a gentle musk, the final grip of the final leaf to a tree, pine specifically, before it’s caught by the hold of the Autumn and falls to the ground with the others.

Combine that with some gently squeezed bergamot, made with calloused yet tender hands, the kind that are so broken that their mere existence is beautiful.

There would be burned paper too, not fully burned, just crisp and dark at the edges. You can still see ghosts and remnants of letters written prior, faded ink blotches staining the page. But when you look closer, you realise that they aren’t simply blotches, that this isn’t just burnt paper and that this piece of paper tells a story just the same, and this piece of paper matters to someone. Not every piece of paper is burnt out of malice and sometimes ink pens can spill.

Bluebells sitting in the clearing of a forest dell as you feel something you don’t think you have ever felt before. Perhaps it’s magic, perhaps it’s a glimpse into the childhood you never got, or perhaps it is the child himself, but eitherway you can’t tell if what you feel is yearning or complete and utter safety.

The bottom note is the smell of a dewy January morning, mourning doves cooing gently to each other on the same tree that lost all its leaves last year, but no matter what will have bloomed again by May. There’s frostbite on your windows and there is a murmuration of starlings fluttering gently outside. You have sourdough rising in the kitchen. You’ll probably go out to feed the birds later on.

Steven

Out of tune guitar strings that don’t sound the way you want them to but they will at the twiddle of a finger. The hollow inside of a guitar that has a familiar smell of chipped wood, and a scratched record that has been played so much, you can almost find love deep inside it’s cuts, and you can find tenderness within every jump and error in a track.

The rubber of a worn out football that has a million stories to tell, and the scent of the wooden trophycase it lies in.

A fire, much like Stan’s but one that burns out of complicity.

The asphyxiating scent of hairspray, your first pencil case and the suffocating crannies of wooden desks you have ducked and covered under.

The inside of mom’s bedroom drawer which smells like a cocktail of florals and crushed up miltown.

The faint musk of your first football coach's cologne, the smell of your first pair of cleats that were slightly too big so you ended up tripping over into the mud.

The gentle, warm blanket your mother knitted you as a baby that you still hold close to you, despite it being five times smaller than your chest, and it has been since you were eleven years old.

Bottom notes are faded cigarettes, the ones you have in secret, on occasion and light patchouli because it just fits. Red berries, paired with just a tad more musk, and something tender that you can’t really describe, but it’s something so achingly gentle it feels forbidden.

The quite literal fallout of your childhood is so strong that it will stay stained on your pulse points until you shower it off, but now it feels something not parallel from beautiful that you’ve been given the grace and the dignity to wash it off in the first place. The miltown and the football and the fallout aches beyond belief but you can live with the berries and the patchouli. And sometimes, you need to see a bit of the mushroom cloud rising above your thumb to know that you’re safe and everything else is behind you.

Eleanor

Messy haystacks, leather horse saddles. The teats of bottles used to feed baby lambs, old dolls that you refuse to let go of despite the fact that you don’t want to give birth to any children to pass them down to.

Faded denim overalls that have been washed more times than you can count, the absence of your mother at the dinner table that is so strong, you can almost smell it amidst the instant mashed potatoes and Kraft packets.

Smoking a blunt outside the jazz club, contemplating everything while still hearing warm, comforting jazz from inside.

The old card deck you’ve had since childhood that belonged to the mother you wish you knew, and the mahogany of your fathers always closed bedroom doors.

Desert flower that lingers on you for hours like spikes to a cactus reminding you you are surrounded by nothing but that doesn’t mean you are nothing. The warm feel of the packed Vegas bar that you have oddly found home in. This city is strange - it was the cause of your wounds and the remedy to it at the same time.

The soft scents of the Mojave desert lulling you to sleep - the hyde of the jackrabbit, the earthy notes of the sand and the white fir trees high above you that tell you it’s okay to wish you were more, but look at this life you have made for yourself.

The musk of a worn out Stedson with a gambler's brim and the inside of a pair of Ariats that will forever be too big but you prefer them that way.

An evening at the casino - your friends say you have a gambling addiction but hey, it’s only gambling if you lose most of the time. A Rosé on the table and your boyfriend waiting for you at home. The ache in your heart for a home has been quelled and dulled and it’s in ways you could have never expected.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 25

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜 tree, there is a woman stuck in time. 

Harry stayed kneeling by Severus side. Fawkes heavy weight on my shoulder was trying to comfort me, his head pressed against mine. 

She has seen all the right doors. Made every right choice. 

"You have fought." Voldemort's voice barely penetrated my thoughts. "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery." 

Done everything that she could possibly do. 

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste." 

She tried to save someone. Many someones. But couldn't. 

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured." 

The memory of her husbands laugh suddenly plays in her mind, holding their year old son above his head while the newborn babies sit in their cribs, watching with interest- if a newborn can show interest. 

"I speak now, Harry Potter and Elizabeth Kane, directly to you. You have permitted your friends and family to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour." 

Her husband holds her hair back as she vomits into the toilet, her stomach round with his child. 

"Don't listen to him." Ron said. 

"It'll be all right. Let's- let's go back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan-

She hears her friends moving, getting ready to leave, but the noises seem separate from reality. Or her dream. She's not really sure which side of the veil she's on now. 

"Elizabeth we need to go." Hermione begs me, her hand on my shoulder. Fawkes lets out another cry, nudging my head with his beak. 

Hands lift me under my arms, breaking me out of my trance and thoughts. The tears don't come like I thought they would. Instead, I walk after them, Harry keeping a tight hold on my elbow as we cross the battlefield. 

Bodies littered the lawn of the castle. 

The Fallen Fifty. 

But these bodies out here would be almost all Death Eaters, though of course Neville and Oliver would be bringing more bodies in. 

"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked. 

"Great Hall." I said softly, bending down and picking up one of the emeralds that had been scattered on the floor from the House Points. I ran my thumb along the cold, smooth surface of the gem. 

Ron led the way to the Great Hall and I stopped in the doorway with Harry as Ron and Hermione went on to go to Rons' family. 

I could see Madam Pomfrey working with several Hufflepuffs to take care of the injured, laying them out on the tables and other raised platforms. My eyes landed on Firenze, who had been injured, laying on his side as his flank poured blood, which had started to pool around him on the floor. 

I started to head towards him, when I saw them. My legs gave out, my mouth dropping into a soundless cry. 

Dad and Tonks, laying dead next to Fred. 

I had lost all of them. 

No matter how hard I tried. 

I couldn't change the future. 

I put my hand over my heart, fingers clawed, digging them into my shirt like I was going to rip my own heart out. I wanted to, from the pain that was tearing through my entire body. My hands moved up to my body, fisting my hair painfully and when someone called my name and I lowered them, strands of brown hair came away, my scalp stinging where they'd released. 

It had been Firenze who had called for me, his pained Sapphire eyes on me.

I staggered to my feet and walked towards him, sitting down next to him. I summoned cloth and wadded it up, putting pressure on his wound, looking around. 

"Who did you lose, Elizabeth Kane?" Firenze asked softly. 

I looked at him. "Everyone." 

"I'm sorry." He murmured. 

I nodded, blinking tears and then looked around. "SUSAN!" 

Susan turned, her face blotchy with tears, but came over all the same. She kept the pressure on Firenze while I went to Madam Pomfrey, getting the herbs I needed. I knew that she knew Dad was dead and she kept looking at me, but I ignored her looks. I needed to focus now. I couldn't have anything distract me from my current task. 

Like with Cedric, with Sirius, with Dumbledore, with Uncle Moody, I pushed the pain and loss down, once more locking my emotions away in my heart. I methodically treated Firenze with the herbs, before sewing the wound up with magic. He still wasn't able to stand and I used only forest herbs as a pain relief medicine, which he sipped. 

He rested his head on my leg and I stroked his blond white hair back as he slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep. 

I finally stood up, knowing that I needed to do several things before the hour was up, and I was already twenty minutes in. 

I approached my dad, Tonks, and Fred. Bill saw me coming and enveloped me into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry Elizabeth." 

"I lost everyone." My voice broke and I swallowed hard, desperate to keep back tears. "I tried Bill. I killed Dolohov and I gave them liquid luck they should've. . . I did everything." 

"I know." He whispered. "Percy told us." 

I wiped my eyes, slowly pulling from his embrace and walked over to Dad, sitting in the small space between the two of them. My fingers shakily reached out, touching his hand. I let out a sob, feeling how cold his fingers were. 

"DAMNIT!" I screamed, slamming my fists against his still chest. I buried my head against chest, sobbing. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit! WHY?" I screamed. 

"Elizabeth." Kingsleys' strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me away from my father. "Easy there." 

"Why?" I sobbed, clutching Kingsleys' arm like a child holding a teddy bear. "Why me? Why do I lose everyone I love? What did I do?" 

"You didn't do anything." Kingsley said softly. "You did everything you could." 

"They're all dead Kingsley." I sobbed. "Severus too which means I don't have anyone to help me raise the kids. How am I supposed to do this? I don't know what to do!" My tears dripped down his arm and he hugged me closer. 

"You have me." He said softly. "I'll be whatever you need me to be, for you and for the kids. Anything you need." 

He held me for a long time, before the clock chimed that I had about fifteen minutes before the hour was up. I wiped my eyes, locking the emotions away again, getting to my feet dizzily. 

"I'm going to try and find Harry." I said with a slight hiccup. "Thank you for. . ." I drifted off. 

Kingsley nodded, squeezing my shoulder, and walked over to where McGonagall was with the other Professors. 

I knelt back down, kissing Dad's cheek. "I- I love you so much daddy." I took his and Tonks hands, lacing their fingers together, before getting back up and leaving without looking back. 

Originally, I had planned on going upstairs to see Trang, to tell her what had happened. To tell her Oliver was okay as well. Now, I couldn't face her, to tell her I had failed spectacularly. Dad had been a second dad to her and she had loved Tonks and Fred and had been so happy I had Severus. How could I tell her they were all dead? 

Instead, I walked down to the edge of the forest where I knew Harry was going to come in his invisibility cloak. However, I paused as I saw the older Slytherin boy kneeling over a body. I knew Oliver and Neville were bringing in the other bodies, but he made me curious. 

"It's my fault." The boy hadn't even turned to see who it was, but he didn't care. "It's my fault that he's dead." 

"No it's not." I whispered, stepping up to him. It was one of the Slytherin boys, one of the brave ones that had stayed to fight. "It's not your fault. You didn't know he would die." 

"If I hadn't insisted that some of us fight. . ." He murmured. 

"You were noble." I said softly. "That's what Slytherins are. You and the other ten that stayed to fight with us, they are the noblest of their house." 

"And where did that get him?" He asked, gently closing the lids of the young boys eyes. I didn't even know his name. He picked the young boy up in his arms and turned to me. "Don't give yourself over Kane. Or he will have died for nothing." And with that, he continued to walk up to the castle, passing Oliver as he came out of the castle for another body. 

I hesitated, and then finally continued walking, turning into a cat so I wouldn't be tempted to stop for any reason. The dementors were nearby, but they didn't affect me as much as a cat, Sirius had been right about the animal part of that. 

I waited in a tree until I heard his footsteps and his shaky breath. I let out a few meows and saw him lift the edge of the invisibility cloak up. I leapt down, turning human as he put the cloak over me. 

We just stared at each other for a couple of seconds, under the cloak. His green eyes, so much like our mothers' looked back into my brown ones, so much like my fathers. And in that moment, the pressure of my tongue- a pressure I had never noticed before- lifted. 

"I'm your sister." 

"You're my sister." Harry said at the exact same time. 

Of course, Severus probably had that in his memories. 

"You never told me before." Harry said softly. 

"Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to, but couldn't?" I asked softly. 

Harry was silent for a moment and then whispered, "Yes." 

"But I can now and it's bittersweet." I whispered. "That we should get so little time together as a family." 

He pulled me into a hug, which I returned, gripping him tightly. "You were always my sister Elizabeth, this just means we share the same blood too." 

I breathed in shakily, pulling back. "I don't want to make you late for your a-appointment." My voice cracked and I wiped under my eyes. I tapped the pouch that he had hanging around his neck. "I open at the close." 

Harry pulled it open, breathing hard and fast as he stared down at it. He pressed the golden metal to his lips and whispered, "I am about to die." We watched the metal shell break open and I whispered. "Lumos." 

The black stone was smooth except for the jagged crack running down the center. It sat in the middle of the two halves of the snitch, like a cherry whose chocolate shell had been split. The Resurrection Stone had cracked down the vertical line representing the Elder Wand. The triangle and circle representing the Cloak and the stone were also discernible. 

Harry closed his eyes, turning the stone over in his hand several times, before opening his eyes and looking around. 

Harry's eyes flicked between figures before settling on one. I wished I could see them again, though I knew if I took the stone I would see different people. While I would also see James, Lily, Sirius, and Dad, I knew I would also see Uncle Moody, Cedric, Fred, and Severus. And with my new plan in mind, I wasn't sure if I could handle the emotional trauma it would put me through. 

"They say hello." Harry said softly, holding his hand out. I knew he wanted me to take it, so that we could talk to them together, but I shook my head and actually took a step back. 

"If I touch it Harry, I'll take it and run and never let it go." I whispered. "And it'll drive me mad. . . like the second brother." I kissed his cheek. "I love you." 

I dipped out of the Cloak before he could say anything, taking off as a cat, racing away from my brother and from the stone. I had meant what I said. I would never let the stone go, and for that reason I didn't need to know where he dropped it. 

So, I did the only thing I could do to get the stone and the possibility of seeing my family again off my mind. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕻𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖘 dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone." Voldemorts' voice echoed throughout the land. "The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together." 

I stroked Buckbeaks' feathers as I sat upon his back. The hippogriff scratched his taloned foot against the dirt floor of the forest. I heard hooves approaching but did not even turn, knowing that they were the Centaurs. 

"Elizabeth Kane." Banes' voice was the one who said my name. 

"Bane." I said softly, looking over at him now, bowing my head slightly and greeted the others, "Ronan, Ivagio, Magorian, Zane." 

"How are you, Elizabeth Kane?" Ivagio asked. He had always reminded me of Kingsley- but as a Centaur- with dark chocolate skin and brown hair which was also more wild than the other centaurs, though just as silky. But he also had a calming manner although if we were being honest his face was far prettier than Kingsleys'. 

"I have fallen victim to my own human wills. I am seeking revenge." I sighed. 

"Well, you are only human." Ivagio sighed. Bane snorted. 

I let Buckbeak go as far as the crest of the hill near Hagrids' cabin, just so that I could see what was going on. The Death Eaters were just approaching the castle, the students, teachers, parents, and shopkeepers were gathered on the front steps. 

"NO!" I watched Professor McGonagalls' hands fly to her mouth and my heart clenched, hearing her make such a sound. Bellatrix laughed giddily at her pain. 

"No!" 

"No!" 

"Harry! HARRY!" 

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny screamed for him as well. 

"SILENCE!" Voldemort shouted with a bang and a flash of bright light. 

The centaurs gathered near me once more, their bows at their ready. I touched my own bow, which was slung neatly over my back, plenty of arrows in my quiver. Perhaps it was a stupid move, but I knew it would have an element of surprise, especially since I had imbued my arrows with a quick acting poison that would paralyze anyone- which was why I was wearing dragonhide gloves. 

"Elizabeth Kane, when do we attack?" Ivagio asked. 

Magorian and Bane both shot him a look, which plainly said that they did not appreciate his question. 

"When Voldemort lights the Sorting Hat on fire." I answered steadily. 

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself-" 

Neville threw himself at Voldemort, taking the Dark Lord by surprise, before they fought and then Voldemort threw him off, Neville hitting the ground. Voldemort threw Neville's wand to the side and laughed, "And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?" 

Bellatrix laughed out the creepiest laugh I would ever hear (until Kamala Harris became VP) and said, "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?" 

Neville struggled to his feet as Voldemort looked down upon him. "Ah, yes, I remember. But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked. Neville curled his hands into fists. 

I snorted, knowing that Voldemort knew Neville was a pureblood and hence why he chose Harry as his equal. 

"So what if I am?" 

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom." 

"I'll join you when hell freezes over. DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!" The crowd behind Neville cheered loudly, breaking Voldemort's silencing charm. 

"I do not understand, I thought they were unable to make noise." Ivagio said, a slight frown on his face. 

"Love is a type of magic." I answered. "When Harry died for everyone, it means that Voldemort doesn't have the same power over them as he once would. The same way our mother died for him, it protected him from Voldemort too." 

"Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it." He said so quietly I almost didn't catch the last bit. Voldemort waved his wand, glass shattering and the Sorting hat hat landed in Voldemorts' hand. He shook it out to reveal its' shape to everyone else who could not see the future and therefore, had no idea what it was. 

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom." 

I pulled my bow off of my back, notching my arrow, the centaurs following suit without question. I heard thundering footsteps behind me, though Grawp was not actually visible. 

Neville grew rigid and still as Voldemort pointed his wand at him. The hat was forced upon his head and my lip curled at the edge a little. Voldemort had just killed himself with this action, and he didn't even know it. The irony of it all would perhaps have been funnier if my family was alive. 

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me." 

The sorting hat burst into flames with a flick of his wand. Screams started up at the castle and we charged. The centaurs screaming their war cries. 

I steadied my bow, aiming at the target. Grawp had emerged from the forest now, quickly overtaking us so that he came lumbering around the side of the castle first, screaming, "HAGGER!" Voldemort's giants ran at him, making the ground shake. 

Buckbeak raced across the grounds, as though trying to race the Centaurs who were much faster and swifter. Their arrows were already flying through the air, hitting the giants and Death Eaters. I let my own arrow go, hitting one of the Death Eaters directly in the neck. 

I didn't look around much, just notching a second arrow and letting it fly almost immediately. But what I did see, for half a second, was Kingsley, simply looking at me with pride on his face. Despite me knowing that the Centaurs would've come on their own, I knew that the others were thinking I had rallied them together. 

A little bit of narcissism would lead to me never disputing this. 

Neville moved, breaking free of the body-bind curse, the hat falling off of his head, and he drew the Sword of Gryffindor from the brim of it. With one single, flawless stroke, Neville cut the head of Nagini from her body. 

Voldemort screamed, something no one could actually hear over all of the fighting. 

I dismounted Buckbeak as I let loose more arrows. Hagrid was roaring something I couldn't hear and Buckbeak lunged for the sky, taking off to help Grawp scratch the eyes of the giants, along with the thestrals. 

I casted shield charms and stunning spells alike into the crowds, protecting my fellow fighters, stunning my enemies. 

I could see Slughorn and Charlie fighting together as I scampered up the stairs. Bane, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the Great Hall by my side and I saw Firenze raise his head weakly, before a small smile came upon his face. 

I heard small voices jabbering and glanced over to see the house-elves rush the Death Eaters with their meat cleavers and steak knives, screaming their own war cries. I could even make out Winky, simply by the fact that she was clothed, a knife in each hand as she leapt upon the back of one of the Death Eaters, stabbing him repeatedly in the back. 

Ouch, that had to hurt. 

Voldemort was still fighting ferociously now, even as his troops seemed to be falling under the weight of the others. George and Lee slammed Yaxley to the ground and I ran over him, hearing George shout something behind me that I couldn't make out. 

Hagrid also probably got great satisfaction at throwing Macnair against the room. The executioner hit the stone wall and slid down it, unconscious. 

Aberforth stunned Rookwood, Mr. Weasley and Percy were fighting Thicknesse, and Lucius and Narcissa ran through the crowd, not fighting, just screaming for their son. 

"Lucius!" I called out. He spun as Narcissa stopped, looking a little pale when he saw it was me. 

"O-Oh Miss-" 

"Draco isn't here." I said. "He's upstairs on the third floor in an alcove after two rights and a left." 

"Thank you!" Narcissa gasped out, the two of them fleeing for the door. I raced on. 

Voldemort was dueling Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn. I felt a pride swell inside of me for Slughorn. He had been the one who had wanted to retreat, who didn't want to fight, yet was fighting Voldemort. Voldemort, the young boy whom Slughorn had told about horcruxes. Slughorn, the Professor who had loved Voldemort like the rest of his Slug club. A man that Slughorn was terrified of. And now, he was helping finish him off. 

There was poetry in there somewhere. 

Bellatrix was also fighting. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna were fighting with all of their might, but Bellatrix was strong and equal to their skill. I gasped aloud as a green jet of light missed Ginny by inches and it was only in that moment that I realized she was actually, really fighting. 

"NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!" 

Mrs. Weasley threw off her patched cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun where she was standing, roaring with laughter as she saw who had come to fight her. 

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. I couldn't help but watch for a moment between the two duels. Mrs. Weasley fought with such skill, I had never expected it of her- for which I was ashamed. She was a very talented witch in the dueling ways as well so it seemed. 

'No!" Mrs. Weasley said as students and her sons ran forwards to help. "Get back! Get back! She's mine!" 

Mr. Weasley hesitated, looking like he wanted to run forwards and help anyways. Bill put a hand on his shoulder, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned pure white. 

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you? When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?" Bellatrix taunted. Anger boiled under my skin. 

"You- will -never- touch -our -children -again!" Mrs. Weasley shouted between curses. 

There was poetry once more was Bellatrix laughed, the same exact way as Sirius had laughed, before the green jet of light flew under her outstretched arm. She toppled over, dead, her laugh imprinted on her face like her cousins. 

Voldemort let out a scream of fury, causing McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn to fly back into the rest of the crowd that was simply watching now, good guys and bad guys alike. 

"PROTEGO!" I shouted, putting a protective barrier between Voldemort and Mrs. Weasley as Voldemort turned on her. 

Voldemort faced me, a dead silence filling the room. "Elizabeth Kane I presume. I have heard quite a lot about you." 

"All good things I hope?" I asked lightly, keeping a calm exterior while anger and hatred boiled under my skin. Lee and George both let out shorts laughs of disbelief, before the hall descended into quiet once more. 

He sneered, lifting his arms, gesturing to the hall. "You truly think you can defeat me? You are not the chosen one, the prophecy says I killed him. You. . . You cannot kill me." 

"There were two other children born that same day as the prophecy says." I said quietly. "There was Neville, but you didn't choose him because the one you wanted to mark as your equal wasn't a pureblood wizard, was it? No, you chose the half-blood wizard, just like yourself." 

"You dare-" 

"-and then there was me." I said simply. "Let me reintroduce myself. My name, is Elizabeth Kane Lupin Potter." There were gasps in the Great Hall which I ignored. "And I am very much enjoying the poetic justice of it all. Three of us to be the possible chosen ones. You killed my brother, the one you chose. The one you didn't finished your last Horcrux off. And now, the one you didn't even know existed, is going to kill you." 

I raised my wand in an instant. 

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" 

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" 

We shouted at the same time, green lights colliding with each other instead of shooting past each other. People gasped throughout the Great Hall and I had to work hard not to show my surprise, acting like this was part of the plan. 

I recognized it a little bit from my visions from my fourth year. The way Harry and Voldemort's original wands connected with the twin core. 

But this was different. Instead of gold, the bond between the two of us was silver. And instead of the ghosts appearing one by one, they came in groups, and only on my side. 

And they were all there. It wasn't just Lily and James and Sirius and Uncle Moody. It was everyone I had ever known that was dead. The entire Fallen Fifty and Cedric and Dumbledore. Fred winked at his parents, waving, while George dissolved into tears along with the rest of his family. 

McGonagall clasped a hand over her mouth as she saw Dumbledore. My arms shook as I kept the wand lifted high. Voldemort looked terrified, the first emotion I had really seen in a while. 

"You are so brave." Lily whispered softly, to soft for anyone but me to hear. 

"Everything is going to be okay." James whispered too. 

I wished Dad and Tonks and Severus and Harry would stand next to me. I wanted to see them all one last time, tell them I was sorry. 

"Elizabeth." Harry's voice spoke next to me, but I couldn't see him for some reason. "Let it go. I need to finish this. Let go." 

"We love you two." Lily and James said together. "Take care of each other." 

"Let go." Sirius said. 

I let it go. My wrist snapped back and I bit my tongue hard. Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off, showing that he was still alive, which should've confused the hell out of me since I hadn't seen it, but now I didn't care. I still had someone. I still had my brother. 

"HE'S ALIVE!" People shouted before stifling themselves. 

"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry said, holding a hand out to me, giving me a look. I took a few steps back, though I hated to do so. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me." 

"Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter? Your sister?" 

"Nobody. There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . ." 

"One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?" 

"Accident, was it, when my- when our mother died to save me?" Harry asked. An electric shock seemed to go through me at those words. Words I had been longing to hear forever. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?" 

I had backed up, giving Harry the room he needed. Now that he was here, the entire scenario had been laid out before me and I knew they both needed the space. They were circling each other now, keeping a perfect distance between the two of them the entire time. 

"Accidents! Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!" 

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-" 

"But you did not!" 

"- I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what  my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?" 

"You dare-" 

"Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?" 

"Is it love again?" He sneered. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter- and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?" 

I started forwards like I was going to take the curse for Harry- and I would've in a heart beat- but I stopped myself. 

"Just one thing." Harry said. 

"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?" 

"I believe both." 

Voldemort started to laugh, which made the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stand up on end. "You think you know more magic than I do? than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?" 

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what  you've done." 

"You mean he was weak!" Voldemort screamed. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!" 

"No, he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man." 

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!" 

"You thought you did, but you were wrong." Harry said. The crowd around us stirred, drawing breath. Some even looked towards the door, perhaps seeing if Dumbledore would walk through it. Aberforth straightened up, looking directly at Harry. 

"Dumbledore is dead! His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!" 

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant." 

"What childish dream is this?" 

"Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down our mother. The moment you started hunting my sister. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?" 

"Snape's patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children, until he fell in love with my sister." 

Okay when Harry put it like that it sounded weird. 

"You should have realized, he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?" 

"He desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-" 

"Of course he told you that, but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!" Harry looked at me, "I owe you an apology." 

I shook my head. 

"It matters not!" Voldemort let out another cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's or this girls or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy- I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!" 

I swallowed hard, thinking of Severus, laying on the ground of the shrieking shack, blood dripping down his collarbone, eyes glazed over, Fawkes still sitting on his shoulder as I was dragged away. 

"Yeah, it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done. . . Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle. . ." 

"What is this?" Voldemort hissed, drawing his hands away like a vampire in a black and white movie when the curtains are drawn and the sun extends inside the house. 

"It's your one last chance, it's all you've got left. . . I've seen what you'll be otherwise. . . Be a man. . . try. . . Try for some remorse. . ." 

"You dare-?" 

"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle." Harry said. I watched his fingers tighten around his wand, his fingers beckoning to me to step up next to him. I did so, approaching slowly to stand next to him. 

"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore." 

"He killed-" 

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!" 

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last mater's wishes! Its power is mine!" 

I actually rolled my eyes. For a super scary, evil bad dude, he was quite dumb. 

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard. . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance. The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy." 

Blank shock showed in Voldemorts' face for a moment, but then it was gone. 

"But what does it matter?" He was being very bipolar switching between screaming and whispering. I sort've got it now. Bipolar people were pretty scary. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone. . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . ." 

"But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him." 

My heart was beating faster in my throat. I turned my wand over in my fingers. Everything would end in less than twenty seconds. 

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hands know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does. . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand." Harry finished dramatically. 

His words were punctured as a bright sunset of red-gold burst across the enchanted sky above us. The sun dazzled over the sill of the nearest window. The three of us cried out together, Harry lacing his fingers with mine at the same time. 

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort and I shouted. 

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted. 

The three jets of light created gold and silver flames, the sound of a cannon blast echoing through the great hall. The Elder Wand flew high, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through air toward the master it would not kill. Harry caught it with his free hand and Voldemort fell backwards, arms splayed, his red eyes rolling upward to reveal only the whites. 

Voldemort was dead, Harry standing with two wands in one hand, mine in his other. 

There was a single second of silence before screams and cheers and roars echoed through the air. 

I saw them running seconds before they actually would be and slipped my hand out of Harrys. Ron, Hermione reached us first as I took a step back. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were next and then the adults. Hagrid and Kingsley and McGonagall and Sprout. . .

I weaved in and out of the crowd, people grabbing my shoulders, yelling mine and Harry's names, before I slipped out away from them completely and through the Great Hall doors. Once free, I raced down the Grand steps and sprinted out of the castle, not stopping till I reached the lake shore. 

I stood there for one second, tears falling down my face, before I collapsed to the ground and cried. 

⬅️➡️

[sunshinemarauder]

i think it's about time i wrote something with this vibe:

so! i will. i am. and it's written almost entirely to hozier (predictable)

It was the sixth hour of his unaccompanied trip to the Forbidden Forest when James began to consider the possibility of imminent death. 

also, these photos WERE chosen specifically and some of them have actual relevance to the story! they're not just random pinterest-y choices. really love la belle dame sans merci by frank bernard dicksee right now - and, of course, the ballad by keats that inspired it!