#implied chiara x mc

[boneandfur]

Choices Flash Fic! DarkFic; Tobias x F!MC

Angels in Hell

@choicesflashfics #36. Uses prompt #2, "You’re allowed to fall apart a little."

A/N: I started writing this before I thought to grab a prompt, and it went to dark places. It was supplied to be a Harper x Ethan, but F!MC started talking... That's it. This fic is dark and I'm not sure why it came out, since it seems like the first chapter rather than a one shot. // Words: 1150 // Pairing: light f!mc x Tobias, acor MC x Antony (implied) // implied age gap relationship.

I always knew I'd end up working for the Outfit, from the time Uncle Tony caught me with a plastic stethoscope in my hands, to the day that Uncle Sam signed my soul over to the combat medical corps.

We need good people... like you, Chiara. You're the brains and Sy is the brawn. There will always be a place for the both of youse in the Outfit.

Is that because of Mama? I asked as I stood in front of Uncle Tony's desk and watched him swallow his grief along with his Campari, gold rings glittering. The shadow of two days beard was heavy on his jaw, and I yearned to reach out, to touch him, but instead crumpled the acceptance letter to Edenbrook in my pocket into a smaller and smaller ball, trying to keep my breathing steady as I watched him, the hero of my girlhood, the master of us all.

He set the glass down on his desk, the sound of it like the funeral bells that had gonged as the hearse pulled away from the cathedral steps in Little Italy, and I felt my throat tighten too. I swallowed my grief with my wine, clinking his glass in a toast. To her, then. I would always live in her shadow, until I could prove my worth.

Uncle Tony's eyes glistened wetly. Arin was a good woman. Bellissima... my tiger. You remind me of her, Princess. That blonde hair, and those eyes... Dio in paradiso, but she was a hurricane. And you are her very image...

Even though he'd married Octavia, I knew Mama had been the love of his life. Uncle Tony would have died for her, and nearly did. That was why I gave him my pledge of loyalty, right there in that room. A pledge for love, the kind that lasts beyond the grave.

And when I returned, I was no longer Chiara Valentine, Arin Valentine's little princess, but Chiara Valentine, combat medic and fast tracked through medical school due to all the strings pulled by Uncle Tony. It wasn't that I couldn't have done it on my own recognizance, but time was a luxury we didn't have after Doc Claudius had gotten his brains blown out by the Family, out in Drakovia. And Sy was in the clink. Again. For stealing cars from some gang in LA, connected to the Yakuza.

The Campari on the desk turned into the Negroni at the bar, and I was staring up into the golden eyes of my boss's and biggest mistake's biggest rival, the one and only Dr Tobias Carrick.

"Valentine." His upper lip curled, and I itched to smack the smugness right off his face, but I'd probably break a nail. After all, I was the Brains. I'd never fought anyone closer than fifty paces in my life, and we'd been in a tank. "Am I really that ugly, little princess, or do you scowl like that at all the plebs?"

If it were up to me, men like him would be six feet under, but I'd promised to hold my peace on mob soil, and the last thing Uncle Tony needed was a war with the Irish. Not that he'd do it for my sake -- it had been Mama who held his heart, and always would. So when I opened my mouth, what came out next surprised me. "I lost ... I lost someone. Today... it's the anniversary of her death."

"Bartender!" Tobias waved down the hipster serving white claw spritzers to the masses. "Get us a bottle of -- what's your poison, princess?"

"Limoncello." I didn't have to hesitate when the bartender slid the bottle down, and poured us two, on the rocks.

He prepared to knock back the entire glass when I caught him on the sleeve, for a moment looking thrown off his game, like he'd never seen a woman before. "Whoa there, Princess."

"Do you know what they say, Dr Carrick? They say that only the dead have seen the end of war. That's Plato. And don't call me princess." That's Antony's name for me.

"You’re allowed to fall apart a little." He touched my cheek gently, and it was only then that I realized I was crying. "Was it... a patient?"

What could I tell him? Of Afghanistan, and the starless desert skies that seemed to reach into the abyss, or of that single moment when my life changed forever? Or of how my life now seemed laid out before me in a single straight line with only a few stops along the way, Chicago to Afghanistan, to Boston and soon, soon, sooner than anyone could ever know, back again.

A pledge for love, the kind that lasts beyond the grave.

"She's been dead a long time." I wiped my cheek angrily with my sleeve, streaks of mascara coming away on it. "My mother. She died, and no one ever figured out what it was that killed her. That's why I'm here, really." I had never admitted the truth out loud before, to anyone.

Antony had come to find me at the barracks. I'd been barely eighteen, and one year in the army already. We'd drunk Limoncello til midnight, Arin Valentine's favorite drink, and we'd held one another and wept. In the morning, he'd left me with blood still drying on the sheets and an ache in my heart that no amount of Limoncello would ever ease.

A pledge for loyalty, until I stepped out of her shadow and proved my worth.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Tobias rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw and held out a hand. "We can just walk, Chiara. You look like you need some air. I won't talk about old business tonight, and it's not a trick, I... I promise."

I took his hand, Dio in paradiso, heaven and hell. Eyes as gold as the sunless desert sands. "You can talk about it all you want, Tobias." I don't care if we win, after all, a snap of the fingers, a pouch filled with thirty pieces of silver, a handshake in a back room, that grant will end up lining the pockets of Edenbrook instead of Mass Kenmore, whether Tobias Carrick likes it or not.

I'll be going back to the Outfit, my mother's daughter, back to Antony. For I owe so much more to him than blood. Life and loyalty, and a love that never dies.

"Valentine?" Tobias waited by the door, jacket thrown over one shoulder, looking at me with a troubled question in his eyes. If I slid off the stool now, I'd have to make that choice. I'd have to face the truth about what drove me to this place, to Boston, to Edenbrook, and to stare at my own reflection in a glass of Limoncello as I counted the stars like the drops of blood in a vein, all the way down the bloody years.

Blood on my hands, blood on the sheets, washed clean by my tears.

Demoni in paradiso, angeli all'inferno.

Only the dead have seen the end of war.

[autisticarachnid]

I'd die to be where you are, I tried to be where you are (HPHM oneshot)

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, self harm, past character death, references to said character death, mentions of eating disorders

“Every night I dream you're still here

The ghost by my side, so perfectly clear

When I awake, you'll disappear

Back to the shadows

With all I hold, dear

With all I hold, dear

I dream you're still here (I dream you're still here)

I dream you're still here”

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

Hogwarts, November 1989. Approx 4 days after Rowan Khanna’s death.

The castle just wasn’t the same anymore. Salem, ever the optimist, had never thought anything like this would, could, happen. Of course, Salem wasn’t blind to the horrors of the world- it was just that, deep down, they refused to believe anything tragic would ever truly happen to them. 

They were wrong.

Classes were still suspended. Dumbledore had announced classes would resume the next week, but students would only have half of their schedule until the week after when classes would return full force. None of the students looked at all ready to study again, and none of the teachers looked ready to teach again. Even some of the more dedicated fifth and seventh years had stopped studying for their exams in the aftermath.

And of course, all eyes were now on Salem. Everyone in the school knew- knew of their friendship with Rowan, how close the two had been, how devastated Salem must be. Of course, no one even knew the half of it- how could they? Salem never let on half of what went through their brain to anyone, and so much of their struggles would always go unnoticed.

Some of their friends had noticed how much Salem had changed, though. It didn’t take much to realize there must’ve been a lot going through Salem’s head.

The threats had been bad enough. The fight with Charlie had been icing on the cake. And Rowan’s death had been the final nail in the coffin. Salem was cracking.

The sun had already set by the time Salem was done. They glanced at the potion in front of them, the leftover ingredients still scattered on the floor of the Artefact room. Salem was never amazing at potions- it wasn’t their worst subject, but Snape’s avid hatred of them prevented Salem from enjoying the class enough to ever get much out of it. Still, Salem poured the potion into a vial and capped it, tucking it carefully under their robes. There was still a bit left, so they took the cauldron and stuffed it in a dark corner, away from sight. They’d come back for it later if this one didn’t work.

It was almost lights out by time Salem left the Artefact room. Dinner was already over, as they’d opted out of it for the night. Salem was used to the hunger by now, considering they’d been skipping meals unintentionally for years now. Most kids were already in their dorms, or just straggling behind. When Salem ducked out of the Artefact room, they brushed their now dark hair into their face and walked quickly, hoping to avoid any cries of sympathy on their way.

They managed to get to their common room without issue, but had to run to avoid a second year who had reached to grab their arm on the way to their dorm. Tonks and Chiara were already in bed- Chiara was reading, her wand lit with lumos in the dim room; Tonks was writing something in a notebook, dipping her quill furiously to get more ink. Both their heads lifted as Salem walked in, with matching worried looks plastered on their faces. Still, neither witch said anything- they both knew the pain was still raw, and that Salem had been asked “Are you okay?” five dozen times already.

Rowan’s bed was empty, made as neatly as it had been left the last morning Rowan slept there. The curtains had been drawn over the bed, to shield it from sight, as if it was some ghastly reminder that it’s occupant was no longer there. It was, in a way- a study book still laying on the pillow, a letter and quill laying next to it, all little reminders of her. Salem could hardly stand to look at it, wishing desperately that someone, somehow, could just make it disappear- as if a gaping hole where a bed used to be would help any, Salem would tell themselves whenever they had found their mind drifting to the thought. 

Salem shed their school robes, pulling on a sweatshirt from third year that was worn and had three different little holes in it. It was old, but it was comfortable and the fabric felt nice against their skin, and the others didn’t question it. The potion Salem had made stayed tucked in their robes, and Salem tucked a book under their pillow for later entertainment and a stim ball to keep themselves awake.

“Goodnight, Salem.” Chiara spoke, her voice quiet but clear in the silent room. Salem just nodded in response as Chiara extinguished her light and tucked herself in. Tonks put her notebook to the side as well- it seemed both witches had only stayed up to ensure Salem got back to the dorm. Tonks also said goodnight, a very clear note of melancholy present, one Salem chose to ignore.

With that, all the lights but Salem’s lamp were off, and the room was cast in a low light, with just enough warmth from the lamp to leave Salem comfortable. They pulled out their book and began to read under the low lamp light, fingers occupied with the stim ball, waiting until the soft sound of Tonks’s snoring filled the room.

Sure enough, a half hour passed before the snoring could be heard. Chiara groaned and tossed onto her side- she was still awake, Salem noted.

Another hour went by. Chiara fell asleep for a few minutes before waking up, a bit groggy and still very tired.

Another hour. Chiara finally fell asleep. A distant bell marked midnight, briefly catching Salem’s attention.

Another hour. Silence had long since fallen on the castle. Salem tried not to cry as they noticed how empty and haunting Rowan’s bed was.

Another hour. Salem kept on reading.

Another hour, and another, and soon it was nearly 4 am. Salem closed their book, a large first edition Care of Magical Creatures volume by Newt Scamander himself. They sighed and finally unsheathed the vial from their robes, holding it in the lamp light. It was a shade of green, bubbles popping at the top into little skulls. Salem bit their lip and took off the cork.

That night in the forest began to replay in Salem’s head. Nighttime was even more of a nightmare now, as all that came with the darkness were nightmares and reminders. Salem could still hear the coarseness of Rakepick’s voice, the volume of her shout, their own scream of anguish as green light filled the grove. Rowan’s body had laid there, cold and frozen in place, and Salem had to be dragged away, screaming and wailing at the top of their lungs. It was Salem’s visceral wailing that had alerted the professors and caused them to come running, it was Salem’s visceral wailing that woke a number of students at a quarter to midnight as Rowan’s death was revealed. They hadn’t slept at all that night.

The next day had been even worse. Salem had hardly stopped crying, their throat dry and cracked from the sheer amount of screaming. They’d hardly had a voice enough to talk to anyone, but they were swarmed with questions from the moment the castle woke. The memorial was held a little after noon. Their friends had all stood with devastated, hollow expressions, each clearly begging to check up on Salem, who had ducked into the Artefact room at the first opportunity once the memorial had ended. Their powers weren’t working now, so they didn’t have an option to disguise and hide. They had tucked themselves away in the corner, tears streaming down their face as they bit their lip to keep from wailing.

Salem had stayed there the rest of the day, only leaving after nearly all the lights were off, uncaring of whether or not they’d get in trouble.

The second day, Salem hadn’t left their dorm. Classes had been canceled and the castle left in a stunned silence. Many of their friends had walked past the common room, others by their dorm door, but Salem didn’t come out. They spent most of the day either sleeping or sobbing. Chiara had come in a little after noon with a plate of food, but Salem dug underneath their covers and Chiara eventually gave up.

The third day, Salem had finally left their dorm only to be quickly swamped with worried questions by students. Their friends had sat with them at breakfast, forming a protective barrier, not saying anything- but each of them wore an incredibly worried expression that bore holes in Salem. They’d tried to spend the day in the library, but after getting pulled aside enough times by worried peers, fled to their dorm room instead and didn’t even go back out for dinner. 

And the fourth day, Salem could hardly take a step without feeling a hundred eyes concentrated on them. People either stared at them with torn, pitying expressions, or stared at Salem’s once bright hair that now fell limp, a dusty shade of dark brown. Salem mostly stayed on the Reserve that day, away from everyone. The animals didn’t ask them anything, after all. They had returned for lunch, attempting to brave the crowds to ease the growing hunger pains in their abdomen, but after a mere ten minutes of pitying stares, Salem took their food to the library instead. Usually Madam Pince would’ve had a fit, but the librarian allowed it out of pity for the bereaved teen. Salem had sat in a back corner, quiet as a mouse, and that’s when they’d absentmindedly come across the potion. 

Throughout the fourth day, everything from the past few weeks had been on a loop in their head. The premonition, the fuss around the escapee, the fight with Charlie, the letter. “Have we ever been safe with all the danger Salem brings around?” Clearly not.

Salem held the vial tightly, staring into it. They hadn’t really been thinking as they had brewed the potion, their mind more a blank, contrite slate, but they’d ended up with it just the same. It looked a shade off- Penny would know how to brew it perfectly, their mind spoke- but they didn’t care. It was close enough. 

Salem took a slight sniff of it- it was a acrid combination of death and rot, and Salem cringed at the smell. They shuddered at the thought of the taste, and held it up again. They stared deeply at it for a few minutes, thoughts swarming in their head.

Finally, Salem held the potion to their lips. This is it, they thought, and tilted it to let it slide down their throat, burning it all the way down. Salem shuddered and fell back onto their bed, staring up at the ceiling. They held a hand up, turned onto their side and closed their eyes.

~~~~~

Chiara was the first to wake up, and she quickly noticed an odd smell. Her sense of smell had always been enhanced- both a blessing and a cursed side effect of her lycanthropy- and it took her a minute to somewhat identify the smell. She glanced over at Tonks, who was still asleep, then to Salem, who was unusually still.

Chiara tossed her blanket to the side and strided across the room, glancing at Salem. She instantly noticed Salem was not moving much- an odd thing, considering they practically danced in their sleep every night. Chiara stepped back a bit, thinking, and tugged on Tonks’s bedsheets.

“Tonks. Tonks! Wake up.” Chiara snapped, pulling on Tonks’s pajama sleeve until the metamorphmagus finally stirred. The usually pink-haired metamorphmagus, now donning sad mouse brown hair, blinked a few times before finally meeting Chiara’s eyes.

“What?”

“Look at Salem for me, would you?” Chiara replied, glancing back at Salem’s bed. Tonks did as asked and stared.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?”

Chiara paused for a moment. “Isn’t Salem a tad too still?”

Tonks paused at that, taking a long pause to stare at Salem. Her feet made contact with the dorm floor and she reached a hand out, pressing against Salem’s forehead. “They’re cold.”

Chiara fell forward and pressed a hand to Salem’s forehead, and sure enough, they were oddly cold. She pressed two fingers to Salem’s neck out of instinct, and nearly fainted when she realized how slow the heartbeat was. As she began to worry, the realization of just what the smell was finally hit her- and Chiara went full-blown panic mode in an instant.

“TONKS! TONKS- SALEM-“ Chiara suddenly cried, panic filling her voice as her hands frantically moved to Salem’s wrists, trying desperately to find a strong heartbeat. “Salem they’re- oh god- Tonks come here! Lift them up! Help me!”

Tonks, still not grasping what was going on, jumped up as Chiara grabbed hold of Salem’s upper body. Tonks grabbed their legs and the two heaved, carrying Salem’s limp body off the bed.

“Quickly! Hospital Wing- now!”

“Hospital Wing? Are you sur-“

“I’m as sure as I’ll ever be! Come on!”

Tonks had never heard so much panic in someone’s voice, and didn’t think twice. Chiara pushed open the dorm door, out into the spiraling hallway and stairs that led to the common room. Penny was the first person they laid eyes on in there, her blonde hair and braids recognizable anywhere. The other Hufflepuff stood almost instantly, worry sprawling across her face as she stared at the two.

“What’s going on?” Penny questioned.

“Penny! Go get Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape- someone, anyone! We’re going to the Hospital Wing!” Chiara cried, and Penny jumped from her chair, running after them as they tore out of the common room and out into the hall. Penny ran with them, all the way to the main hall before splitting apart to run into the Great Hall. Chiara and Tonks threw open the door to the Hospital Wing, for once completely ignoring the fact that the petrified Madam Pomfrey was still standing there.

As soon as Salem was dumped onto the closest available bed, Chiara rushed to grab whatever medical equipment she could. Tonks hovered over Salem, worrying as Chiara ran back over. Chiara instantly began examining Salem, her panic growing by the minute as she slowly recognized what had happened. Just as she made that discovery, the doors swung open again to reveal that Penny had managed to get Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick.

“Miss Lobosca, may I ask the matter?” Dumbledore inquired as his eyes fell upon Salem.

“Professor Dumbledore I- Salem- I think-“ Chiara swallowed apprehensively, trying to gather herself. “I think they took something they shouldn’t have. They’re cold, and their heartbeat is weak. Too weak.”

McGonagall instantly rushed forward, followed by Snape. It took one moment before Snape stopped in his tracks.

“Do you have an idea of what they took, Miss Lobosca?” Dumbledore asked again.

“A- A potion of some sort. I think it’s-“

“Weedsoros.” Snape finished, staring at Salem. “A most dangerous poison.”

“Oh my goodness-“ McGonagall whimpered. Her face, which was usually strict, was instantly painted with heartwrenching sorrow as she stared at Salem on the hospital wing bed. 

“This is very serious indeed,” Dumbledore mused, an odd note of worry in his voice- one that was only heard in times of great stress or sorrow, such as the morning when Rowan’s death was officially announced. “Minerva, go to the outskirts of the school and apparate to St. Mungo’s. We need a healer at once.” 

McGonagall only nodded before leaving. She could then be heard summoning a broom right outside, and then was gone. 

“And Severus,” Dumbledore turned to Snape, “Surely you have an antidote for Weedsoros in your collection?”

“I think I’m fresh out, but I have enough to brew one. I’ll be back.” Snape turned curtly and strided back to his classroom. That left Dumbledore and Flitwick, who’d been staring on with a stricken expression the whole time. 

“Filius? You know healing spells, do you not?”

Right as Flitwick nodded, Chiara piped up. “I know some too, professor.”

“Ah yes, Miss Lobosca. You’ve volunteered here since your first year, correct?” Chiara nodded. “Alright, but Professor Flitwick will oversee you.”

Chiara nodded again and turned to Salem, mentally flipping through an arsenal of healing spells. She used a range of them, mainly Episkey, but none succeeded to fully wake Salem. Chiara’s panic grew more by the minute, as Tonks left the Hospital Wing. (”I’m going to go warn the others- Don’t worry Professor Dumbledore! I won’t say what happened, but Penny did see us and has probably let others know. I need to ease her worries.”) 

A million thoughts ran through her head every second- why Salem, how could this have happened, she was right there, she should’ve stopped it, she’s supposed to be a healer- as she tried to keep herself as outwardly calm as she could. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone else so quickly after Rowan- especially not Salem, not before she could tell them, not before she could have her chance.

Flitwick kept a watch over her, his own expression steady but clearly worried. He hadn’t ever seen something like this.

Five minutes of waiting became ten, and then twenty- Chiara’s panic grew by the minute, as her spells slowly began to lessen the effects, but not the poison itself. Dumbledore had taken his turn casting spells as well, but with such a strong poison, spells were of little effect.

A half hour had passed when the door burst open to both Snape, McGonagall and two St. Mungo’s healers. Chiara could’ve swore Snape’s feet didn’t even touch the ground as he glided over, antidote bottle in hand.

“How long have they been unconscious?” One of the healers, a brown-haired woman, asked.

“I don’t know.” Chiara admitted, her voice dripping with panic. “I fell asleep at what must’ve been midnight. Then I woke up at 7:30 and they were cold.”

The witch hummed and took the antidote vial from Snape. “Hold them up.” She said, and Chiara helped the other healer hold Salem up into a semi-sitting position. The other healer then held Salem’s mouth open and head back, as the witch poured half of the antidote down Salem’s throat. Their mouth was then closed, and as soon as the antidote had been gulped down, the witch poured the rest in.

A hint of color filled Salem’s cheeks almost instantly, and Chiara held back a choking sound.

“They should wake in the next half hour. Their body is weak from the poison, and since we don’t know how long it’s been in their system, we can’t accurately say how much damage it’s caused.” The witch tidied herself and handed the vial back to Snape with a grim nod. “They took this intentionally, correct? If so, they’ll need to be placed on watch. And rest for at least a week.”

The professors had all nodded, McGonagall’s stare becoming especially intense upon the metamorphmagi’s still figure. Chiara had clasped her hand around Salem’s, almost weeping, her other hand covering her face to stop any tears. Salem would not die today.

The two healers stayed for a few minutes, thoroughly explaining exactly what the recovery process would be like and what they would have to do to ensure Salem’s safety beyond it. After ten minutes, both healers had left along with Flitwick and McGonagall, leaving just Dumbledore, Snape and Chiara in the hospital wing.

It was another ten minutes before Salem finally began to lightly stir. Chiara’s face had practically slammed upwards, staring in both hope and desperation as life began to slowly trickle back into Salem. Another five minutes, and their eyes opened.

Salem blinked once, then twice. Their eyes- once just a light grayish blue, now such a dark, murky shade- stared up briefly at the ceiling, then to the lights, then onto Chiara. Their eyes had instantly widened, but Chiara had quickly placed her hand on their chest to keep Salem from trying to get up.

“Chi- ara.” Salem croaked, their voice so hoarse they could barely speak. Their eyes were teeming with emotion- Sorrow? Guilt? Chiara could hardly tell- as Chiara gently shook her head.

“Shh. Take it easy.” She crooned, trying to keep herself from crying as she placed a hand on Salem’s cheek. “You’ll feel better once the antidote has run its course.”

Salem stared at Chiara, with an oh god you know look- as though deeply ashamed of themselves- but stayed quiet and laid their head back against the pillow. They let out a small sigh as Chiara clasped her hand over theirs.

Chiara wasn’t sure what to think. She wanted to be mad- how could you do that, so soon after Rowan, why would you make us lose another friend- but she knew it was only because Salem was in such immense pain that they had even attempted. Chiara just couldn’t bring herself to be mad.

It was the clearing of a throat that reminded Chiara that Dumbledore and Snape were still in the room. Snape took a step forward, and Salem’s eyes drifted towards him, almost scared. Snape then paused, as though trying to carefully pick the correct words.

“You will be excused from classes for the next week,” Said Dumbledore, moving to speak before Snape could. “And you’ll be placed on bed rest for a week, minimum. And from now on, you are not allowed anywhere by yourself. You must be accompanied by a friend everywhere you go.”

Salem’s eyes scanned his face for a brief moment before nodding gently in defeat. Dumbledore then turned to Chiara.

“I will tell miss Tonks the same, but from now on, one of you must stay up each night until Salem falls asleep.”

Chiara nodded, turning her head slowly to face Salem. Salem was staring at her, eyes just slightly watering. Chiara gave a weak smile and tightened her grip on their hand.

Dumbledore looked between the two, then to Snape. “I believe our stay here is ending. We needn’t give the student body more reason to worry.” He then turned to Chiara again, who met his eyes expectantly. “I’m relying upon you to watch after Salem today, miss Lobosca. I’ll have food brought for the two of you as well.”

It was with a nod that Dumbledore left the room, with Snape following close behind. Chiara looked back at Salem and briefly ran her fingers through their hair.

“Sleep. It’ll do you some good.”

Salem stared at her for a while, their eyes all over her face, as though searching for something. Whatever it was, Salem eventually found it and laid their head back, allowing their eyes to flutter closed. Chiara began humming gently, eventually escalating into a soft lullaby as Salem drifted away into sleep.

—————

November 25th brought with it the first snowfall of the year. It had been exceptionally cold the night prior, so Salem was not at all surprised to look out of their window that morning to white patches all over the grounds and ice stuck to the window pane. 

Three weeks had passed since Rowan’s death, and a little over two weeks since their own suicide attempt. Salem could still vividly remember being torn out of their sleep that afternoon to the cacophony of voices as their friends burst into the hospital wing, news having finally broken. Merula’s face, surprisingly enough, was the first to show up in their field of view, her eyes wet and face covered in so many tears that Salem could hardly process it. She had pressed her face to their chest, weeping almost angrily, a near incoherent stream of how could you, why would you, what were you thinking falling from her lips. Behind her, Penny was weeping, covering her mouth with her hand as her eyes bore a hole into Salem. 

Ben was there too, his typically stoic face now a sorrow mess, and Salem noted there were tears in his eyes too.

Talbott was there too, and Barnaby, and Tulip, and Jae and all the others- even Charlie, Salem noticed, despite their fight not even two weeks prior. Nearly all of them were crying or on the verge of tears, but Chiara managed to hold all but Merula back.

“They’re still weak.” Chiara murmured, one hand still on the bed as she half-stood to face them all. They had all nodded, gently, as Salem’s eyes flitted over each of them with a penitent look.

Salem had managed to speak- a gentle “I’m sorry” as Merula cried into their shirt. They spoke it again, their voice a bit more hollow this time, as Merula finally faced them. She swallowed thickly, gave a small nod, and grasped Salem’s face in her hands, pressing a firm kiss to their lips.

“You idiot.” She spoke, voice dripping with a mix of sorrow and anger, as Salem’s eyes filled with tears to match. “You absolute idiot.”

“I’m sorry.”

None of their friends left the Hospital Wing until dark. Barnaby had carried Salem through the halls, uncaring as to what anyone else thought, all the way to the door of the Hufflepuff common room. Diego had carried them to the entrance to the dorms, at which point Chiara and Tonks helped them up the stairs and into their dorm. Penny went with them too, and fell asleep on the floor next to Salem’s bed. Salem fell asleep early that night.

The next day, Chiara insisted Salem rest, refusing to even let them leave their bed. Tonks had stayed in the dorm too, watching over Salem as Chiara left to get them food. Salem was soon handed a plate of french toast for breakfast, chicken for lunch and pasta for dinner, and ate everything under Chiara’s watchful eye. Penny slept on the floor again that night.

It wasn’t until the 15th that Salem finally left the common room again. Classes had half-started up again, and already Salem’s friends had agreed upon a system to ensure Salem wasn’t left alone for even a minute. Chiara or Penny walked them to each class, Ben or Barnaby or Tonks sat next to them in each class, and Badeea had even offered to do their History of Magic homework for them. It was nearly suffocating, being unable to be left alone, but Salem couldn’t bring themselves to complain. They knew they couldn’t be trusted to be left alone.

The artifact room was also off-limits unless they had someone with them. Penny had been the one to go with them, and she had accidentally stumbled upon the remains of the potion, tucked secretly in the corner. She had started crying, wrapping her arms around Salem and insisting fervently that they were loved and deserved to live. Salem couldn’t bring themselves to do anything but sink into Penny’s embrace and start crying in return.

Days passed of being escorted around everywhere, until finally November 25th came and with it, snow.

Salem loved the snow. It was fun to walk around in, to make snowballs and snowmen and to feel it in your fingers. Salem had donned a long sleeve, two jackets and a thick winter coat that morning, pulling on a beanie as well to cover their dark hair. They wished they could change their hair color to a brilliant silver to match the snow, but Salem feared their powers wouldn’t work for another few weeks at least.

Tonks was still sleepy, but Chiara was awake and dressed in a long sleeve, a sweater and a winter coat. Seems she had had the same thought to go outside in the snow.

“Good morning.” She said, her eyes glancing over to Salem, who was standing next to their bed now, looking at their own figure in the mirror. Salem turned, briefly meeting Chiara’s eyes before averting them. 

“Good morning, Chiara.”

Salem’s fingers fumbled a bit with their coat, straightening it out so it fit them just right, before deeming the outfit appropriate. They turned, finally facing Chiara, who greeted them with a smile. “You ready to go outside?” Salem had just nodded in response, but Chiara was quick to notice the slightest hint of fervor to their movements. Chiara smiled at that. 

Chiara led Salem out of their dorm and down the hallway, all the way down the stairs and through the common room. The castle was often chilled in the winter, despite the litany of little spells casted to keep an ambient warmth about the castle. The dungeons especially were cool in the winter, enough so that a long sleeve was necessary to walk around. It was a stark contrast to the Hufflepuff common room, which was always kept warm with the constantly crackling fireplace. Salem let their hand drift briefly over the cold stone walls, before turning their eyes forward to the stairs in front of them. 

Chiara and Salem ascended the stairs together, climbing what must have been three stories before finally reaching the main hall. Badeea was standing just outside of the Great Hall, dressed neatly in a long deep blue winter coat buttoned up over a dark blue sweater and navy blue pants. She lifted her head, smiling when she saw the two of them walking towards her. 

“Good morning Chiara! Salem! Are you two going outside to see the snow?” When Salem and Chiara both nodded, Badeea lifted her head a little. “Well, there are quite a few students already in the courtyard, so I’d recommend going out onto the field or the reserve if you don’t want to be bothered.” 

Salem smiled at her, a genuine smile. “Thank you. Would you like to come with us?”

“Sure!”

Badeea turned on her heel and followed them, and the three gradually made their way outside and towards the reserve. It was on their way, however, when Salem stopped and realized they were near the forest. 

Chiara had evidently noticed too, as she gently placed a hand on Salem’s arm and looked at them, careful to not disturb them too much. “Are you okay?”

Salem lifted their head to stare deep into the woods. Their eyes stared into the expanse of trees, as though hoping they would melt under their gaze. They stared a beat too long, worrying Chiara and Badeea, before speaking softly. 

“I miss her.” Salem’s voice was barely above a whisper, lips moving of their own accord. They blinked, then realized what they had said as tears filled their eyes. “I- I miss her.” 

Before they knew it, Salem had started to cry, their knees giving way as Chiara and Badeea both dropped to hold them up. Salem fisted the light layer of snow underneath their hands and let loose, keening as tears fell like rain down their cheeks. Chiara’s eyes also welled with tears, and and she wrapped her arms around Salem, just as Badeea did the same. The three stayed there for a while, Salem crying unabashedly as Chiara rubbed their back and whispered words of comfort and Badeea silently urged them on. 

A silence fell over the castle that day, a silence not heard since Rowan’s death. And what should have been haunting, was the only comfort to a grieving metamorphmagus. 

[missnight0wl]

Question: headcanons are all dandy and valid, but where did the idea of Diego and Jae being BFFs come from? I don't think I saw them hang out together much except during History of Magic, where they sit together while Penny brews a potion. I don't remember a lot of quotes where they refer to each other either.

To be honest, I wasn’t even aware they’re considered BFFs. But I suppose it might be simply because they were both new characters in Y5? People assumed that they’re close because they were introduced around the same time, and they just hold to this idea?

Because yeah, Jae and Diego don’t really interact much with each other, whether it’s in the main story or in the side quests. Besides History of Magic, there’s also that part in DADA where MC identifies curses with only Jae and Diego.

It might’ve played some role here as well. Y’know, DADA classes were available before either Jae or Diego was officially introduced in the story, so it makes some sense. Other than that? Well, they both were in the Great Cook-Off TLSQ, but that’s a fairly recent thing, and I wouldn’t exactly say that anything there implied they’re particularly close anyway.

In the end, I believe it’s just another headcanon that got more popular because people like its general vibe. I feel like quite a lot of popular headcanons about HPHM don’t necessarily have a very solid basis in the game itself: Jae x Chiara, Ismelda becoming a Death Eater in the future, MC’s mother being neglectful… I guess it’s similar with Jae and Diego being BFFs – which is fair, to be clear. Like you said, headcanons are all dandy and valid.

Unless I’m missing something important about those two. Then, please, feel free to correct me.

[benscursedkid]

Must Have Been The Wind

synopsis: ben’s just a stressed and tired college student looking for a break. strangely enough, the girl who cries in the middle of the night from the apartment directly above his might be just what he was looking for...

pairing: ben copper x f!mc reader

genre: romance, muggle!au, modern!au, f2l???

warnings: implied mentions of insomnia and anxiety if you squint, mature language (v mild)

words: 8k

tag: @badeeaswife

a/n: so this turned out longer than i expected it to be, heh heh. i haven’t seen very many modern aus or muggle aus so i hope whoever reads this enjoys!!

*inspired by the song of the same name by Alec Benjamin*

“we can talk about the noise when you’re ready

but ‘till then

i’ll say it must have been the wind”

“Hey, Ben! How was work today?”

Ben turns at the familiar voice of his neighbor, the pretty blonde girl as cheerful as ever. “It was work, Penny,” Ben shrugs his shoulders, sagging with exhaustion. “There’s not really much one can expect from a job working at a 7-Eleven.”

Penny frowns, leaning against her door frame, mail forgotten in her hand as she gives the man a once over. “You looked tired, Ben. Are you sure you should be taking the midnight shifts?”

Fumbling with his keys, his own mail hanging from his mouth, Ben shakes his head in response. “They’re the only ones I can actually make, Pen. I’m busy all day long with classes and I don't have the time for any others.”

“Yeah, but, I’m worried about you,” Penny sighs, watching the fellow blonde struggle to open the door to his apartment. “You never get any sleep, you rely solely on Mountain Dew to keep you awake, and you barely make your morning classes on time rushing out the door, you’re a full-time college student– double major… You need to take better care of yourself.”

The door finally opens and Ben allows himself a silent victory before turning to address his friend. 

“I know, Penny, and thank you for caring about me,” She offers him a grin, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, worry replacing the usual brightness. “It’s just until Jae and I get things here a bit more stable, I promise.”

For a moment Penny peers at him doubtfully, but eventually trusts him to come to her if things go astray and she nods. Ben smiles at her, trying his best not to let his eyes droop too low and makes for his apartment. 

“Oh, Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Someone just moved in upstairs, so y’know,” Pointing towards the ceiling, Penny begins to retreat back into her own home. “In case there’s a lot of noise, don’t worry about it. They’ll move in soon enough.”

A tired groan escapes him, but he manages to shoot the girl a curious glance. “How do you always know everything?”

“I ask.”

“Fair,” He concedes before his door shuts behind him.

⏭

Ben is woken from his sleep by the loud sound of a crash. 

Immediately, his head lifts from its place on his desk, drool already dry on the corners of his mouth and neck popping in protest of his sudden movement. He casts a long, cautious look about his apartment. Jae’s pulling an all-nighter with Badeea, their new partner assignment due first thing tomorrow, so he’s all alone in the empty space, the moonlight just managing to peek through his bedroom window.

At first, Ben’s afraid the sound came from within his own apartment and he begins to panic, his blood running cold. His mind is sifting through all the worst case scenarios out of habit, sweat starting to bead on the back of his neck. Has someone broken in? Did they shatter their windows? It is just the first floor, not exactly difficult to sneak into. Are they coming for him? Are they here to steal? Are they going to hurt him?

 However, these fears are quickly quelled by another sound, this time clearly coming from the apartment directly above his. 

Someone’s crying. 

From what he can tell in his half-asleep state, he thinks it sounds like a woman. The sobs coming from upstairs are faint, but unmistakable. He’s had enough breakdowns in his stressful college career to know what cries sound like. 

Ben ponders what’s happened to warrant the tears from the obviously upset woman. This hasn’t happened before and he’s not quite sure what to do. Briefly he considers leaving her be, knowing that sometimes in bad situations the best thing you can do for someone is to give them space. Though the sound of breaking glass worries him and with a grunt, he gets up to go investigate, despite every bone in his body telling him it’s a bad idea and begging him for sleep. 

On his way out he checks the time on his microwave.

3:53 a.m.

He just got back from his shift close to forty-five minutes ago, likely having fallen asleep finishing up his classwork. Great, he’ll have to finish that when he gets back.

Taking a breath and ignoring his frantic nerves, his walks quietly to the elevator, careful not to wake up any of his neighbors. If Merula or Andre hear him at this hour he’ll be apologizing for weeks. 

Once he reaches the elevator, he checks one last time for any angry complaints, before hitting the button for the second floor. As he goes up, he briefly wonders what he’s getting himself into, questioning whether someone has broken into this woman’s apartment and if he’s walking straight into his own demise. 

A ding sounds upon reaching his destination and he walks down the hall to her apartment, counting each number until he finds the seventh from the right of the elevator, like his own counterpart. Without taking time for thought, in fear of backing out, he raps his knuckles against the door. 

At the intrusion, the tell-tale sound of pattering feet fill his ears and idly Ben thinks of how wrinkled his clothes must be and how dark the circles under his eyes probably are. If he opened the door to that in the middle of the night, he’d probably send whoever it is straight back. 

The knob twists and the door cracks open just enough for a young woman, looking to be around his age, to peak out. Upon deducing he’s likely not a threat, the door opens to allow them a better view of each other. 

He doesn’t recognize you and assumes you must be the new neighbor Penny had told him about. You look as tired as he feels and this brings a small sense of relief to his mind, a tiny solace in this strange situation. Your eye bags, Ben thinks, could give his own a run for their money and your hair is disheveled and shoulders slouched low. Your oversized sweater is pulled up all the way to your chin, almost enough for you to bury your nose in it. 

“Can I help you?”

Your voice is scratchy and raw and Ben is sure you’re the one he’d heard from downstairs. It’s only once he realizes this does he notice the puffiness by your eyes, clearly a sign you’ve been crying. Yet you act as if they aren’t there, looking at him wearily from your place in the doorway. 

Ben shakes himself from his thoughts, a reply spilling swiftly from his lips. “I’m from the apartment below yours and I heard a noise. It sounded like something broke… I just wanted to see if you needed any help.”

Your hand itches to wipe the lingering wetness from your eyes but you refrain, shrugging (hopefully) nonchalantly. “I think your ears are playing tricks on you.”

His eyebrow furrows, unconvinced, but not wanting to pry too much. Still, he persists once more. “Are you sure? Nothing happened? I thought I heard someone…” He hesitates, wondering if he should mention the sobs he’d heard. “...someone break something.”

You gift him a shake of your head and a half-smile with no light to it. “Thanks for caring, sir–”

“Ben.”

“–Ben, that’s nice of you, but I should probably go back in,” You back up from the door and wave to him. “Wish I could tell you about the noise, but I didn’t hear a thing. It must have been the wind.”

“Yeah,” He nods to himself, suddenly wondering why on Earth he’d dragged himself up here at this ungodly hour. You’ve made it clear that whatever was going on is something you can handle on your own. Still, he wonders if you’ll be okay tonight. “Yeah, okay. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re fine, sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“It’s okay,” He waves off your concerns like batting away a fly. “Have a goodnight.”

“You, too.”

You close your door and Ben makes his way back to the elevator, more tired than he was before. His feet drag as he shuffles back to his apartment, practically able to hear his bed crying out from lack of use. 

True to character, he takes a Mountain Dew from his fridge, making note to buy some more tomorrow at work, and takes a seat at his desk to finish his assignment. 

It’s only when he crawls into bed an hour later does he realize he never asked your name.

⏭ 

The second time he hears it, Ben knows it’s not the wind. 

It’s been two weeks since he’d gone up to your apartment that night and he hasn’t spoken to you much more since then. Penny was quick to befriend you, though Ben knows first-hand that it’s just a talent of hers. That girl was even able to befriend Talbott from 5D and in the two years Ben and Jae have lived in that apartment, he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s heard him speak. 

Your name is MC, from what he gathered during his talks with Penny. Apparently, you took swiftly to Chiara and Tulip from your floor, two people Ben has only ever encountered during one of Penny’s or Diego’s house parties. He also heard that this is your third move in a year and ponders how long you’ll be staying this time. 

Strangely, he finds himself hoping it’s a while. 

He’s only seen you a few times around the building, with his busy schedule and your free time occupied with moving into your place, it’s rare to catch either of you with a spare moment these days. On those occasions, the two of you weren’t able to move beyond nods of acknowledgement and brief pleasantries. Though, the one time he helped you carry some boxes up to your apartment, he found that he’d really enjoy getting to know you better. 

At current, Ben looks up at your apartment from his place on the floor. He’d collapsed onto the floor of his room after getting off his shift early that night. Evidently, his co-worker –Ismelda?– had been asking around to trade shifts to make her sister’s wedding and for once Ben jumped at the chance for a good night’s rest. Granted he’ll have to make time to come in early tomorrow, but it’s worth it. 

You’re crying again, he realizes upon further inspection. He hadn’t heard a shatter this time, but that doesn’t do much to ease his worries. Slowly, he sneaks into Jae’s room and taps on his sleeping figure, his mind already made up. 

Jae groans into his pillow, burying his head further into the white cushion. Ben takes this as his que to explain. 

“Hey, um– I’ll be right back, okay? I gotta go.. get something.”

His roommate simply grunts and Ben figures that’s as good a response as he’ll get from him at the moment. 

This time it’s only ten past midnight when he leaves his apartment, pajamas definitely wrinkled and hair a mess, but that’s the least of his worries. Making his way into the elevator, he waits until the doors open and makes a beeline to your door, pulling nervously at his sleeves. He’s not sure how you’ll take another late night disturbance, but tells himself it’s best to make sure you’re okay before going back to bed. 

After two knocks, your door swings open and you yawn before greeting your visitor. 

“Ben?” You ask, the same puffy eyes and raspy voice from last time. “What are you doing here? Do you need something?”

Ben chuckles, antsy, and shakes his head. “No, well, actually I was wondering if you’re okay? I was downstairs and I– uh, thought I heard something.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness, but deny the notion nonetheless. “Nothing up here, sorry. Must have been the wind.”

“The wind, yeah,” The man hums, though it’s clear that he doesn't believe you. You don’t attempt to come up with a better excuse, however, and Ben decides that you’ll tell him when, and if, you’re ready. “Okay, well– um, if you ever need anything, I guess you know where to find me.”

“Yes, thank you,” You reply as sweetly as you can, ready to bid your goodbyes. Though as Ben turns to leave, you can’t help but call out to him. “Oh and, Ben?”

He just turns and the sincerity in his soft brown eyes catch you just a little off guard. “Thanks for caring.”

This time he’s the one who smiles, an actual, genuine smile that makes his eyes sparkle with an energy you don’t recall from last time. You can’t help but reciprocate and you wish him a goodnight before retreating back to the empty shadows of your apartment.

⏭ 

Ben stifles a yawn as he struggles to keep his head from falling on the counter. The store is quiet and empty, not a single person around for entertainment. The sky has long since darkened into an inky black, the clouds shielding the stars from sight. The shift is slow, but then again, he never really gets more than four customers at these hours, anyway. 

He’s resting his head in his hands, preparing to lose his battle against sleep when the bell above the entrance door chimes and he bolts up right. 

Certain he’ll get whiplash at this rate, he peers around the store for the wandering customer. It’s hard to see from his place by the register, but a girl is looking around, huge jacket practically dangling off her smaller figure. She has a hood pulled over her head and he’s unable to identify her, too used to the regulars, but he dismisses it and checks the time. 

He has another half hour before he can go home and Ben tries his best to stay awake until then. 

After five more minutes of looking around, the girl brings a handful of things to the checkout, finally pulling off her hood. He recognizes her immediately. 

“MC?”

You look up from your phone, a shocked expression on your face. Despite the time of night, you don’t look as tired as the last few times he’s seen you and Ben takes that as a good sign. Your eyes also don’t seem to hide the remnants of tears, another good thing that almost has him smiling. Instead, he rubs the back of his neck shyly as a more proper greeting. 

“Hey, Ben,” You offer a half-smile for the first time and it brightens up your entire face, leaving Ben a little short of breath. “I didn’t know you worked here?”

One by one, Ben begins to ring up your things, anxiously chewing at his bottom lip. He’s not used to the attention from anyone besides Penny and he’s not quite sure what to say. 

“I take the late night shifts…”

“I can see that.”

“Right.”

A grimace finds its way on his face, the awkwardness of this conversation enough to make him wish the ground would swallow him whole. However, he’s rendered slightly speechless when a tiny, barely there giggle falls from your mouth. Now he’s sure his cheeks, neck, all the way up to his ears are probably dusted an embarrassing shade of pink, but he can’t really find it in himself to care too much if that sound becomes more commonplace between you. 

“I don’t really see you around the building too much,” You start, examining the nutrition labels of your items with suspicious interest. “Is this where you always run off to?”

Ben shakes his head, going a little slower on ringing up your –groceries?– things. “Ah, not all the time. Most of my time is actually spent at the library, I hardly do anything but study these days.”

“Oh, you attend college here?”

“Yeah,” He’s still a little unnerved, but he’s significantly pleased with how easy conversation flows with you. “I knew going for a double major was a bad idea…” 

You purse your lips in thought, taking a pause to sweep over the man before you one more time. He does look exhausted, every time you’ve seen him since moving in he hasn’t been without the company of tired eyes and a spent expression. Though, you think he could say the same for you, always seeming to catch you at the worst of times… 

“I’ve always wondered what it’s like to double major, seems like it’s not for everyone.”

Ben laughs at this, dry and uneven, almost like it were an inside joke that you don’t understand. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure it’s for me.”

“Then why did you do it?” 

He shrugs then, mindlessly, rotating to bagging the things you’ve bought. “I don’t know, I guess I just couldn’t decide what I wanted to do and I thought I’d do both? Even I don’t understand my logic there, but I can’t just quit now.”

You fish the appropriate amount of money from the pocket of your jacket and hand it to him. He takes it with a customary smile and starts adding your change. “Well, I think it was very brave of you. Not everyone has the courage to chase their dream, let alone two of them.”

Ben halts his calculations, his brown irises snapping up to meet yours, the question on his tongue reflected in his eyes. 

“You think so?” He asks, and when he speaks his voice is so soft, so uncertain, like he has no idea what he’s doing and your heart clenches just slightly in your chest. 

Maybe it’s the time of night that loosens his lips, or possibly his significant lack of sleep, but he finds that your opinion matters a lot to him for someone he hardly knows. 

You nod then, the action relieving some of the weight from his shoulders and he hands you the rest of your change. “I, uh– thanks.”

“No problem.”

With nothing left to say, you’re about to head back over to your shared building when he asks you a last minute question. 

“Do you go to school, too?” He stutters for a second, seemingly rethinking his decision to ask in the first place. “If you don’t mind me asking that is. I don’t mean to intrude.”

It’s endearing, you think, the way he tries his hardest not to offend you, his cheeks pinking just a smidge.

“I used to,” You say, hesitating on whether or not he deserves an explanation. Well, he doesn’t necessarily deserve one, per se, but you like him. You find that you don’t mind if he knows why. “I never finished my junior year… family troubles.”

The store clerk senses that he won’t get anything more than that, not that he cares. He’s really just happy you haven’t asked him to shut up yet. 

He nods, picking his hand up off the counter to wave you farewell in lieu of an actual goodbye. You wave back, your steps a bit lighter than they were when you came in. 

Likewise, when Ben stumbles into his apartment later that night and isn’t greeted with the sound of sobs coming from upstairs, he decides that he definitely wants to get to know you better.

⏭ 

Since that night, you, oddly as far as Ben is concerned, have taken to visiting him during his shift. You always come in around the same time –ten past two in the morning– and he’s starting to wonder if the two of you are just simply nocturnal. 

You don’t ever get more than a handful of items, sometimes you don’t even get anything at all. You’ll just come in and have a seat by his checkout counter and the both of you will talk until it’s time for you to take your leave. The topic of your conversations are mindless subjects, never on the same thing for long. At first you adventured the typical subjects of favorites; food, color, movie, song, etc. However, it didn’t take long for him to grow comfortable in your presence and he’s going out on a limb here, but he thinks you feel the same way.

Now, you often times walk in with something random on your tongue, likely having been stuck in your head all day long. Ben doesn’t mind, he’s grateful for a friendly face to keep him going during his utterly boring shifts, and it’s humorous to him the things that occupy your mind.

At the current moment, you’re seated in a chair Ben has set up just for your visits, humming along to the song on the radio overhead, a bag of popcorn in hand. You had managed to convince him to stay on this one station that doesn’t play anything that came out after the 80’s, but it’s nice to see you relaxed and happier. Besides, he secretly listens to this station before you show up, anyway.

Since your first visit two months ago, Ben hasn’t heard you crying late at night more than three times. Ben hopes these sessions of yours will continue to diminish until it becomes a thing of the past, causing him to wonder if maybe his groggy state had made up the entire thing. Until then, all he can do is give you his employee discounts and hope for the best.

“Do you know this song?” You inquire, ending the comfortable silence that had enveloped you when you came in.

Ben scoffs, the familiar melody flooding his ears. “I’d be more surprised if I didn’t. Penny listens to these guys like it’s her job. ‘Can hear it from across the hall at least once a week.”

You snicker, hiding behind your hand. The ABBA lyrics flowing in your ears, providing you with a bit more energy this early in the morning. “Waterloo is nice, but I personally like Fernando a bit more.”

The blonde shakes his head fondly and you raise your eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” He denies, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I just thought that you’d like something less… mainstream.”

“Mainstream?” You gasp, not believing what you were hearing. You mock offense and Ben chuckles under his breath, careful not to be so loud as to disturb the customer in the back. “Well, what’s your favorite, then?”

He ponders this for a moment, but eventually he sighs, not having come to a definite conclusion. His pink lips curve into a tiny pout that’s much cuter than what you think is fair. “Truthfully, I’m more of a Billy Joel-David Bowie person.”

You want to tease him, but in truth it’s fits him well. It’s all too easy to imagine him sweeping this store, whistling along to the tune of Piano Man, and you grin at the thought. 

“Don’t let Penny hear you say that,” You warn goodnaturedly and Ben shakes his head. “She won’t be as understanding.”

Ben shudders at the implication, a shiver traveling all the way down his spine. “God, no. That girl is really scary sometimes.”

Waterloo comes to its end and is replaced by the melody of Three Dog Night, accompanied by a hint of nostalgia for a time you never experienced. A mistake, you’re sure. 

A memory comes to mind, one that has you pausing in your humming and Ben admires you curiously. “My brother liked David Bowie…” 

Taking notice of your use of past tense, Ben halts as you kick at the dust by your shoe. Only once have you mentioned your brother in the, admittedly short, time he’s known you, but it’s not hard to deduce that it’s a sensitive subject with you. All he knows about the guy is that you don’t talk often, a fact you had stuttered out from nervousness. He knows better than to pry, but he can’t say he isn’t curious.

It’s as he’s debating on changing the topic that you pull yourself from your reverie, playfully throwing a piece of popcorn at him. It’s a half-assed effort, but Ben doesn’t complain as the snack bounces off his forehead. 

Ben huffs and steals a piece to throw at you in return and within seconds you’re littering the floor with cheese powder and popcorn. A piece he throws your way finds purchase in your hair and he can’t help the laugh that tumbles from his throat, or his resulting smile when you do the same. It’s not until he hears the clearing of a throat do you cease fire long enough for Ben to actually do his job. 

After a minute, Ben rings up the man’s things and hands them back to him, waving a weak goodbye to the regular and the store is empty once again. This time, it’s you who clears their throat as you ask him something that you meant to a while ago.

“Do you have any siblings?” You regard him, tilting your head out of interest. The man looks to you briefly and shakes his head. “Only child, then?”

“Yep. I always wanted one growing up, until this one family moved in next door,” He laughs as he recalls the memory of his neighbors, each one with fiery red hair. To this day he still does a double take whenever he sees someone else with the color, expecting six others to be in tough. “After that I realized I didn’t need one to be happy.”

You nod along to his words, suddenly quiet. For some reasons unknown to him, this unnerves Ben, already used to the harmonious sound of your voice and the spark in your eye when you talk about things you like. Watching you now, a look of thoughtfulness on your face, he’d do anything to know what you’re thinking. 

He’s about to interrupt, to ask for himself, but you beat him to it. 

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

You survey him with sad eyes, not quite glossy with tears, but he swears he can see the ones that escape when you think no one is listening. There’s a sense of vulnerability there that he didn’t expect; didn’t expect you to share with him, to allow him to see. In their depths he can see pain, too, though it’s nothing new; everyone knows that it’s loneliness’ best friend. 

Idly, he wonders who put it there. 

However, when you ask him this, your voice wavers, shaky and almost afraid, something he is closely acquainted with himself. You’re seeking answers for something more than just the question voiced, from someone who doesn’t have them. And, dear God, he wished he did, even if just for your sake. Never did he anticipate something like this from someone he’s only known a few months, but that ceases to matter to him as he softens at your imploring gaze. 

The college student decides to answer your question, as that’s the best he can do for you at the moment. 

“Sometimes,” He confesses and somehow he knows that’s not the answer you wanted. You deflate, shrinking back into your winter coat. 

Not giving himself the chance to second guess himself, he reaches an arm out and tucks a stray piece of hair out of your face. His hands are clammy and his nerves are eating at him, but he thinks you’re more important right now. You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, but gently lean into the touch even so.

His licks his lips, which are much more dry than they were a minute ago. “But,” He murmurs, the song filtering through the speakers long forgotten, fading into background noise. You cling onto every word he says, desperate for the words of wisdom from someone with experience. “Sometimes the people I surround myself with are all I need.”

⏭

“We are not watching a horror movie,” Ben pouts as his roommate laughs, the sound filling his ears like an echo, mocking him. “You know I don’t like those!”

“Yes, Benjamin, we’re aware that you’re a baby,” Jae sniggers as the other man tosses the closest pillow at his head, the former just barely dodging it. Penny laughs, nudging her own roommate with an ‘that’s totally us’ look. 

The aforementioned roommate, Tonks, takes the opening to throw another pillow at the raven haired boy, causing him to smirk, and Ben knows what that means. Thus a full blown pillow fight arises and Ben is left to pull back to the sidelines. 

Feathers and stuffing is falling from the pillows and Ben decides that they’ll have to get new pillows on his next day off. 

“They’re fighting again?” You sigh from his left, a fresh bowl of popcorn and m&m’s, per Tonks’ request, observing the chaos before you. 

He shoots you a quick glance before humming his response. “Well, if you count pillow fighting ‘fighting’.”

“What other kind is there?” You grin and Ben doesn’t fight the one spreading his own lips apart. 

Tilting his head in a rare moment of snark, he gestures to the bowl in your hand. “The popcorn kind.”

“Touché,” You surrender with a chuckle, going back to admiring your neighbors. “Are they always like this?” Laughing, you offer the bowl to him. 

Ben caves and grabs a handful, earning a sharp glare from you, though the both of you know there’s no legitimate malice behind it. “Yeah, when you put them together.”

“Wow,” Is all you can say as the two of you continue to eat the popcorn for what was supposed to be a joint movie and ‘get to know the new girl’ night, unbeknownst to the others. 

“You think this is bad, you should have seen Diego and Barnaby’s party in July,” He whistles low, recalling the night from last year, a grimace painting his face. “Man, that was insane. Or New Year’s! Honestly, I’m surprised Binns hasn’t kicked them out, yet.”

Sparing him a glimpse, you make no move to join in the battle that’s taken up residence in his living room, albeit beginning to wind down. “I take it you don’t like parties?”

The question has him fidgeting a little, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and twiddling his thumbs. “I’m, uh, not good with groups.”

You nod, taking a leap. “Then thank God two isn’t a crowd.”

His eyes snap to you, but you ignore the look on his face as Tonks points an accusatory finger at you both. 

“Hey! Don’t eat all the popcorn, you fiends!”

...

Ben snaps awake when he registers movement to his left as you get up from where you’d been sitting beside him. He wipes the drool from his chin as you head into the bathroom and he takes a quick scan around the room. 

Everyone is still there, sitting on the sofa, asleep. Jae’s snoring is the only other sound in the room aside from the credits of their third movie. Penny has fallen asleep on his friend’s shoulder and Tonks is spread out across the rest of the couch, head resting on her lap. The glare of the television reflects off the bubblegum pink of her hair and Ben stifles a laugh. Though, it’s not something he sees frequently and it does bring a hidden smile to his face. 

Even if Penny had threatened to spill something into all their drinks to watch Pretty in Pink, he does appreciate their companionship, and he’s glad that they can still find the time to have fun together. 

Ben reaches for the remote to shut off The Breakfast Club, Jae’s pick, and checks the time on his phone.

1:27 a.m.

Running a tired hand down his face, Ben debates waking up his friends to seek the comfort of their own beds or leaving them be to sleep on his couch. He’s about to wake up Jae to ask his opinion when you reappear from the bathroom. 

Even from his place on the couch he can see the tear stains on your cheeks, the moonlight the only thing aiding his vision as it casts a glow upon your face. You pause when you see him awake, surely knowing you’ve been caught, but you stride back over to your seat and wrap yourself back up in the blanket.

Without much thought, Ben offers you more of it and you take it gratefully. Sniffling, you look anywhere but at him and he wonders why it hurts so much. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit, he glances around to make sure the rest of their friends are still asleep before going to question you. When all appears well, he opens his mouth, but you beat him to the punch, something he realizes isn’t so unusual with you. 

“I should probably head back,” You say, providing a small, mirthless smile, and shuffling under the blankets. You pass the rest of them over to him and head for your phone by the outlet in the tiny kitchen. “I’m meeting with someone in the morning about maybe being my roommate so…” 

He nods on instinct, getting up to walk you to the door, remembering you mention something to him earlier. “Yeah, uh- Rowan, right?” 

He doesn’t know why it matters, why he’d said it, but you give your confirmation, anyway. “Yeah. Rowan.”

He can’t help but fidget with his fingers, not quite sure what to do with his hands as you shrug on your coat. Words are failing him, nothing forming or stringing together right as he goes about asking you about what happened. Every time he’s caught you in the past, you brush him off, which Ben isn’t sure is healthy. He’s aware you’re probably not comfortable talking about it with him, and that’s fine, but he can’t just let you walk away while in a bad state of mind. This is especially considering you’ve been a very welcomed outlet for him these past months, helping his handle and manage all his stress, something he’s immensely thankful for. He’s just not sure how to return the favor when you won’t let him… 

His cheeks feel hot now and he’s positive that were there better lighting in the room you’d be able to see it. For once, he is grateful for the darkness of night. 

“You don’t have to, you know. If you don’t want to,” You send him a puzzled look and he sighs, fearing that he’d have to explain. “It’s late and we’re all tired, so you– er, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know it’s not necessarily a long journey or anything, but you can sleep on the couch if you want, or you can have my bed if you’d prefer that.”

He’s cringing internally, already anticipating your rejection. He was too nervous, too jittery, and now you’re not going to want to come back. Why would you, when all he does is interrogate you and ask questions you don’t want to answer?

You take ahold of his hands that he hasn’t left alone since you got to the door and pull his attention back to you. There’s a smile on your lips when he looks up from his shoes, something that looks out of place on your tear stained face, but still enchanting nonetheless. He’s rendered speechless by the strength he finds in you and you wrap your arms sagely around his neck. 

Ben freezes for a moment, not sure if this is real or not, but when you don’t pull away and he doesn’t wake up back on the couch, he realizes that he is indeed awake. With a start, he goes to snake his own arms around your waist and you grin against his neck. After a few more seconds of reveling in each other’s embrace, you pull away and you don’t look quite as sad anymore. 

“Thank you,” You whisper into the void, silence surrounding you like a mist. You almost go to pull him into another hug as he lets out a breath of relief, finding the action more endearing than you probably should. “But I couldn’t do that to you.”

“It’s fine,” He assures, one hand still lingering on your hip, seemingly going unnoticed by him. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

The words I know are on the tip of your tongue, ready to fall off, to be said and heard, but you swallow them. Instead, you just smile wider, hoping that he senses this is nothing to do with him and that regardless of whether you stay or don’t, nothing is his fault. However, he’s stubborn, something not a lot of people know, and you know full well that his habit of blaming himself is almost as bad as yours. You know that, right now, with your decision made, there’s nothing you could say to convince him otherwise. 

That alone has you close to reconsidering. 

Still, you’re stubborn, too, and insist. “You’ve got enough on your hands with the three of them,” Gesturing over to your other friends, still asleep on the sofa, you open the door and bid your goodnight. “Don’t worry about me, Ben, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Goodnight then, MC.”

Your heart breaks just a little for him as he closes the door, no mistaking the solemn expression on his face as he does so. It clicks shut and you sigh, asking why you always have to ruin things for yourself.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

⏭

The door to his apartment creaks open as he tumbles in, his muscles begging him for sleep. Thankfully, he finished up his coursework during his shift tonight and he has nothing left to do other than crash and attempt to get as much sleep as he can before his 8 a.m. class. 

The place is eerily silent when he closes the door behind him, the sound of Jae’s loud snores absent, something he’s become accustomed to hearing upon his return home. 

Walking around, he manages to spot a note taped to the fridge and he walks over to read it. 

Ben,

staying at billingsley’s tonight, assignment due tomorrow. 

be back later.

-J

With a sigh and a shrug, he tosses the note and grabs a glass of water before heading to bed. Grabbing one from the cabinet, he does his best not to fall asleep before reaching his room. He never likes being home alone after a shift, something about the complete and utter silence always unsettles him. 

He’s ready to go to sleep, skipping putting on pajamas and going straight to bed, when he’s met with a familiar sound, one he hasn’t heard in a while. 

It’s you, and you’re crying again. 

A curse leaves his lips and his chest feels tight. You’re crying, again, and he doesn’t know what to do. He still doesn’t know why you’re always up at this hour or what it is that makes you cry, but he swears if he has to hear you suffer one more time… 

His hands itch for a plan, something to do to help you, make you feel better, but his mind is blank. If you hadn’t confided in him all the times before, what makes this time any different? I mean, why would you let him in this time? Even so, he decides, there has to be something he can do, because Ben knows that the whispering of the wind doesn’t sound like heart wrenching sobs and a promise broken by empty words. 

With nothing else to do, he trusts his instincts and goes with the first thing that comes to mind. 

Dragging one of the chairs from their poor excuse of a dining table, he walks it over to where the sound is loudest, figuring that must be where you are. Pulling his phone from his pocket and grabbing the bluetooth speaker off the counter, he climbs up onto to chair and pulls up a song the two of you heard on the radio a few days ago during his shift. He places the speaker as close to the ceiling as he can and takes a breath. 

He knows how weird this must look from an outside point of view, hell this is weird to him, but it’s the only thing he can think of. He doesn’t know if this will work at all, quite frankly he’s pretty sure it won’t, but he has to try, right?

He closes his eyes for a second and hopes against hope that the walls are thicker than he knows them to be before pressing play. 

As the music of Lean On Me begins to play, drifting smoothly throughout the dullness of his apartment and the voice of Bill Withers fill his ears, the crying ceases. He allows the song to play, wondering and wishing that you can hear it and know what it means. He’s never been the best with words, or expressing himself, but he hopes this conveys the message for him. 

Seconds pass and he doesn’t hear anything, he just stands there in silence, holding the speaker up to the roof. No sound comes from your apartment and he wonders if maybe you’re ignoring him, or perhaps you went to sleep. Just as he’s starting to think that maybe he fucked up, there’s a knock at his door. 

He puts the speaker down, but doesn’t turn it off on the off chance that you’re still upstairs listening to it, and walks over to his door. His first thoughts are that it’s one of his neighbors, here to complain about the noise at three something in the morning. Merula, possibly, or Andre. He’s not really sure which one he prefers.

Though, when it swings open, that’s not what he finds. 

You’re there, hair and eyes wild as you regard him. As he expected, there are fresh tears in your eyes, though this time you don’t bother hiding them or wiping them away. You simply stand there, regarding him with a frown tugging your mouth down in a somber expression. You’re in your pajamas, wrinkled and much too big for you, but you don’t seem to care much about how you look right now. Instead, you look at him, a desperate plea dying on your tongue and his mind hurls to a stop. 

Without a word, you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the hug, pulling you closer into him. Ben holds you like porcelain, afraid that if he squeezes too tight you’ll break. He cradles you to him, delicately, like one would a distressed child. A few more tears slip from your eyes, dampening the shoulder of his shirt. He doesn’t care. 

You stay there like that, in each other’s arms where both of you feel the safest, door wide open for anyone to see while the song reaches its crescendo. As the music fades and the speaker goes quiet, you pull away, but stay nestled against him. 

Ben takes this opportunity to speak, deciding to hell with it and saying something he should have said a long time ago. 

“Look, MC, I’m not playing tricks on you, okay. You’re always welcome to come in, no matter what time it is or what you’re here for. You can stay here for an hour or two or three or however many you want when it’s too quiet in your apartment or the space feels too big or if you just need a friend,” The words are out in the open now, and distantly a voice in his mind is yelling at him, telling him to stop while he’s ahead, or more accurately, before he’s too far behind, but he can’t. The words, they tumble from his mouth one by one, unable to stop himself. “I’m sorry for always bothering you. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but you don’t have to. I’m here if you just want company–”

“Ben–”

“No, you need to hear this!” He pushes on, knowing that if he stops now, he’ll never be able to bring himself to do it again. “We can talk about the noise when you’re ready, but ‘til then…” He sighs, not wanting to give you an out, another excuse to bottle things up, but he knows pushing you won’t do any good either. “...it must have been the wind.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your own words from months ago echoing back in your ears. It sounds fake, even to you, though you always knew it did. There was just nothing else to be said at the time… but there is now.

“It’s not the wind,” You hear yourself say, the words leaving your mouth in a rush, like it was something you had to get off your chest. It is. 

The shock you see in his eyes is expected, but the way they begin to soften the longer he looks at you with those gorgeous, sincere brown irises of his gives you the push you need to finally tell him everything. 

“That first night you came to my house, the crash you heard was me being a klutz and dropping a picture frame,” You admit sheepishly, the night from all those months ago something you’ve tried not to think about since it happened, though it’s easier said than done. “It wasn’t really the frame that I was upset about as it was the picture in it.”

Ben reaches for your hand, giving you a patient nod to continue. “It’s the last picture I have of my brother and me. I was already stressed with the move and being reminded of things just didn’t help.”

“MC,” Ben whispers, careful not to scare you or make you feel pressured. His tone is soft and light, kind, and you appreciate it in this moment. “What happened to your brother?”

You gulp, dreading saying it out loud, it always makes it feel more real that way. Though it’s not like you doubt the truth in it, anyway. 

“He went missing almost two years ago,” The confession causing new tears to sting your eyes, already red and puffy from minutes ago. You ignore them, having grown used to their company. “Nobody knows where he is, how he went missing in the first place, how he’s doing, if he’s even alive…” 

“Sometimes I like to call his cellphone, just to hear his voice again when I’m sent to voicemail, though I’m not really sure why I keep doing it. I know it only makes me feel worse,” You shake your head and tears drip onto his shirt. Ben pulls you to him for another hug and your arms wrap around his waist as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. 

“Is that why you haven’t gone back to school?”

You nod, not moving from his hold. “He wasn’t just my brother, he was my best friend, and now that he’s gone I just… I don’t know what to do. He always had all the plans and he always knew what to do when things went wrong, but he never told me what to do if he disappeared.”

“It’s not fair,” You find yourself growling, surprised at the anger, the resentment in your voice, though should you be? He left without a single word and really, what are you to do about that?

“I know, you’re right,” Ben agrees, wishing more than anything that he could help you, that he could fix it, but he knows he can’t. He can’t bring your brother back, he can’t give you closure or any sort of explanation other than: “It’s not fair.”

You sniffle, seeming to have run out of tears for now, or water in your body. Though, you can’t deny that the support of the blonde man before you doesn’t play a big role in that. “Sometimes… sometimes it’s just really hard not to feel completely alone.”

“You’re not,” Is what comes out of his mouth and the persistence behind it is not something he’s used to in himself, but he can’t dwell on that right now. “You’re not alone, MC, I can promise you that.”

“I know,” Those words, they’re not just something you wish were true now; now you know and can say with full, complete confidence and honesty that you believe. “Now I have you.”

And when you pull back to smile at him, a little broken but hopeful for the first time in what feels like forever, and press your lips softly against his, you know that so long as you have him by your side, you have nothing to worry about. 

“we can talk about the noise when you’re ready

but ‘till then

i’ll say it must have been the wind”

[ao3feed-snape]

I'd die to be where you are, I tried to be where you are

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/1nwc6DV

by Saffir

Four days have passed since Rowan's untimely death, and the entire school is in mourning. Under the increasing grief and constant stares their way, Salem is breaking.

Words: 5260, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/F

Characters: Chiara Lobosca, Merula Snyde, Penny Haywood, Original Non-Binary Character, Nymphadora Tonks, Albus Dumbledore, Badeea Ali, Severus Snape, Rowan Khanna

Relationships: Merula Snyde/Original Character(s), Player Character/Merula Snyde, Chiara Lobosca/Player Character, Chiara Lobosca/Original Character, implied Chiara Lobosca/Player Character, Chiara Lobosca & Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Suicide Attempt, Grief, Mourning, mc mourning rowan's death, past merula x mc, they're broken up in this but still have slight feelings, eating disorder mention, takes place after rowan's death, Slight Self-Harm, Non-binary MC, autistic mc, implied one-sided chiara x mc, one sided for now - Freeform, metamorphmagus mc

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/1nwc6DV