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marauder-misprint · 3 days ago

Text

Letters that never arrived i

Sebastian Sallow x Ravenclaw!reader

part 2

14.7k words

cw: HL spoilers, swearing, miscommunication, fluff, angst, Y/N

There were flashes of red and green lights and you screamed his name. “Sebastian!”

Then you woke up, drenched in sweat. It was still pitch black outside. You slowly sat up, shaking from your nightmare. A gentle breeze chilled you to the bone as your pajamas clung to your body. Sebastian was not there, but you still looked around the room, filled with worry. The last you had heard he was staying at his late uncle’s house in Feldcroft. As you sat up, you tried to remember the dream that had awoken you. You didn’t know which end of the lights the boy had been on. You shuttered.

You got out of bed and shuffled over to your trunk. You took out a small box of neatly arranged vials and picked out two. You debated which potion would be better to take: Sleeping Draught or Dreamless Sleep Potion. The former would get you back to sleep faster, but the latter would likely keep you asleep. You put the Sleeping Draught back with a sigh. You had taken one of those before bed, and your dreams hadn’t been pleasant. You drank the other potion in one gulp and went back to your bed. Its immediate drowsy effect allowed you to feel more relaxed. After a few minutes, you were back to sleep.

In the morning, you cast a protection spell over your tent before making the trek to Hogsmeade. You could’ve flown on your broom, rode your graphorn or a thestral, or even taken the floo network from the closest hamlet. You had taken to walking everywhere. There was something about being on the ground that reminded you that you were alive and it was all real. The last time you flew on your broom you had ended up lost in the clouds above the ocean. It had taken you over an hour to get back to your tent; it was an event you never planned on repeating.

You entered J. Pippin’s Potions and greeted the shop’s owner, Mr. Pippin.

“I have your order ready. Just let me go grab it,” he said, disappearing to grab a bag from the back. When he returned, he asked, “Can I ask what you are brewing? This is a fair amount of lavender, sopophorous beans, nettle and asphodel?”

You handed him a small pouch of galleons and took the bag he handed you.

“I’ve got a few potions I’m working on,” you said nonchalantly. “I like to have my own stock and with school starting up soon, I need to get busy.”

Mr. Pippin nodded, although he noted that you didn’t really answer his question. “Starts next week, if I recall.”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Enjoy your brewing, Y/N. And I’m only an owl away if you need help.”

After leaving the potion shop, you visited various other shops around the village to pick up supplies that you had ordered for the upcoming school year. You had quite the stack of packages when you stumbled into the Three Broomsticks and nearly collapsed at a table in the front corner. Sirona Ryan was quick to bring you a butterbeer.

“Looks like you’ve had quite the day, hmm,” she said, setting the mug down.

“A walk in the park compared to last year,” you replied with a tired smile.

Sirona knew a fair bit about the messes that you had found yourself in last year. She had witnessed parts of it herself, like when Rookwood barged into the pub and demanded to speak with you. You sat back in your chair with your hands grasping the warm mug. It had just been a day of picking up school supplies and small talk, yet it still drained you. The mundane always felt worse than battling poachers, goblins and trolls.

A few butterbeers later, you felt ready to go home to your tent. You were about to wave Sirona over to pay her when the door opened with a jingle and familiar voices filled the air.

“We won’t stay long, Ominis. I just want one drink before we go back,” Sebastian Sallow said.

You were glad for the pile of supplies in front of you, blocking you from their view. You could barely see them yourself through bits of space between your packages.

“One drink. Then we have to go back to Feldcroft. I do not like walking that far through forest when it’s dark out,” Ominis Gaunt responded to Sebastian.

“You’re blind! What difference does it make?”

Ominis scoffed. “It is more to do with the time of day. You know it is less safe at night.”

To your relief, the boys chose a table further into the pub. You felt safe to wave Sirona over.

“Some of your classmates just came in. You know you can move tables without telling me,” she said with a soft smile.

You shook your head. “I need to get going. It’s been a long day and there is a bed calling my name.”

You handed some galleons to Sirona and worked on stacking your packages in a way that wouldn’t make them too cumbersome to carry. You could bewitch them to float and follow you, but you would worry too much about them getting stuck on a tree or boulder. As you got your grip and headed to the door, you heard Ominis speak across the bar.

“Is that Y/N’s voice I just heard?”

You didn’t turn around and hurried out the door before you could hear Sebastian’s answer. You hadn’t parted on the best of terms and you wasn’t ready to face them yet.

“Huh? Maybe?” Sebastian said, looking at the door as it closed. “I didn’t see.”

Sirona heard them and walked over. “Yes, that was Y/N who just left. Bit surprised myself that she didn’t say hi to you boys.”

---

The next week seemed to fly by. You spent most of your time brewing your collection of potions and triple checking that you had all of the required supplies. Your worries about returning to the castle caused you to be more paranoid. You were looking over your shoulder whenever you left and moved your camp. The dangers of living in the highlands weren’t as severe as they had been, but they still persisted. Even without a leader and definitive cause, goblins and ashwinders were posted in various locations, and if one thing made them furious, it was you since you were responsible for their leaders’ downfalls. And poachers were always a given.

The day before you would return to the safety of the castle, you set up camp in a treasure vault you had discovered a while ago. You had recalled this one being free of spiders, inferi and standing water. You conjured a door and locked it, hoping to deter wild animals. You knew that any wizard determined to get in could, but some would move along at the sight of a simple lock.

You sat next to a small fire, hugging your knees to your chest. One of the things you loved most in the world was watching the flames of fire dance erratically. It was more soothing than you could ever explain with words. It allowed you to get lost in your mind without the daunting feeling of falling into an endless hole. You could think and reflect. Sometimes you thought it was your ability to control ancient magic that allowed fire to have this effect on you; to you, fire was the oldest magic there was.

You decided on a simple Sleeping Draught for the night. Your mind was wide awake with nerves and dreamless sleep would be pointless if you couldn’t sleep. You passed out immediately after drinking it.

Waking up, you felt groggy. Your sleep wasn’t the most restful but it had been sleep. The nightmares were more mild. Stress of exams and forgetting homework. Embarrassment of being late to class or losing Ravenclaw points. Awake, you wanted to laugh at how trivial these were, but they still frightened you. You knew people expected the world of you, and you’d be damned if you let them down.

You condensed all of your things down into one trunk with an extension charm on it. You figured you would mill around Hogsmeade until it was time to go to Hogwarts. Most students would be arriving by train. Once you arrived in the village with your trunk, you made the decision to hole up in the Three Broomsticks. If it was slow, you could chat with Sirona. It ended up not being slow enough for Sirona to chat for more than a few minutes at time, but that was sufficient for you. Even more so, you were glad that you didn’t see anyone that you really knew all that well, which meant no one else was stopping by your table.

---

“Y/N!” a voice shrieked from across the Great Hall.

You looked up from the Ravenclaw table to see Samantha Dale and Constance Dagworth running toward you.

“It’s good to see you’re still alive!” Constance said, engulfing you in a hug. “I tried to write to you but my owls couldn’t find you!”

“I had the same issue!” Samantha added.

The girls sat on either side of you, awaiting your answer for their inability to reach you.

“I was moving around a lot,” you said. “I guess if you don’t stay in one spot for too long, owls can’t find you as easily as they can if you’re established.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell us all about your summer. We have so much catching up to do,” Samantha said adamantly.

The Great Hall didn’t take much time to fill up as the train had obviously arrived and students had made it to the castle from Hogsmeade Station. The temperature in the hall rose significantly with everyone’s body heat. It was good to see everyone’s faces again and to hear their voices. Students who took the train were swapping stories with those from the local hamlets or had been in different compartments. The animated conversations fell quiet when Professor Black stood at the lectern at the front of the hall. His welcome speech was half-hearted and he quickly passed the spotlight over to Professor Weasley who led the sorting ceremony. You were shocked at the number of first years and paid immense attention to the ceremony, since you hadn’t seen one before unless you counted your own that had been after all of last year’s first years had finished being sorted. The other sixth years around you were less enthralled by the ceremony.

The ceremony ended and dinner commenced. All of the students around you began filling their plates immediately; some looked at the food like they hadn’t eaten all day. You were regretting sitting in the Three Broomsticks all day and drinking your fair share of butterbeer. You made a small plate for yourself and nibbled away at it as you listened to your friends recount their summers.

“William was obnoxious all summer. He was always in the way, no matter what I was doing. I couldn’t read or stitch without him being an absolute git,” Samantha complained. “Maybe we should’ve left his feet as beets!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “You were beside yourself when he was at St. Mungo’s. Have you considered that maybe he just wants to spend time with you?”

“Absolutely not. If he wanted to spend time with me, he could come over from the Gryffindor table once in a while.”

You cocked your head. “He’s a student here?”

“Did you not know?” Constance asked.

You shook your head.

“He’s a fourth year. Gryffindor, as I just said,” Samantha said.

She turned around to point in his direction. You looked in the direction of the Gryffindor table and saw a boy who looked like he could be related to Samantha.

“I see. I guess he didn’t come up that much last year…”

“You were busy, saving Hogwarts and all,” Samantha said.

“Don’t forget being joined at the hip with her guard dogs,” Constance chirped.

You made a face at your friend. “I still don’t understand why people call them that.”

“Ever notice how people never really approached you when they were at your side?” Constance laughed. “They were protecting you, guarding you. And well, yeah. Guard dogs.”

“Protecting me? Please!” you said in mild disgust. “I do not need protecting.”

“From goblins and ashwinders, no. Overzealous fans? Possibly. But we’ll never know because of them,” Samantha clarified.

“Overzealous fans,” you repeated. “What, am I going to be hugged to death?”

The girls shrugged.

“Might have been to ensure some privacy. Usually when someone gets a title like Hero of Hogwarts, people want to know everything about them,” Constance said.

“Whatever,” you said with a sigh. “Connie, what did you do this summer? Do you have a sibling who goes here that I don’t know about?”

—-

Before going to bed, you made sure to organize your stuff in the closet. You had conjured additional shelves so that your collection of potions could be properly displayed and easily accessed each night. Samantha peered over your shoulder and gasped.

“Merlin, Y/N! Do you have enough potions in there?”

You shut the door, hiding your collection of vials. Constance looked up from a letter she was writing.

“How many are in there?”

“At least twenty,” Samantha answered.

“Been busy brewing this summer?” Constance asked with a laugh.

“I like to be prepared! Don’t come crawling to me when you need wiggenweld and are too embarrassed to get some from the hospital wing,” you defended.

“You have more than enough in there to share. And what was all in there?” Samantha asked, sitting down on her bed. “I saw purple and wiggenweld is green.”

“Just some stuff to help with sleep,” you said with a shrug. “Pretty sure the lavender makes it purple.”

The other two girls exchanged worried looks.

“Are you still having nightmares?” Samantha asked, her voice laced with concern.

You had tried to hide your nightmares from your roommates in the spring. You had placed a silencing charm on your bed to at least muffle the noise. However, they were perceptive and grew concerned over your visible exhaustion. It had been one thing for you to fall asleep in History of Magic as Professor Binns droned on about various goblin rebellions; it was another when you slipped out of your chair and onto the floor in Defense Against the Dark Arts and then in Charms. They called you out on it and you had no choice but to come clean. You had been given a small ration of sleeping aid potions from Matron Blainey.

You had led them to believe that after two weeks of restful sleep you were back to normal. That was not the case. The first night without one of the potions left you riddled with nightmares worse than before. It felt like the two weeks without dreams had compiled into one. In a calm and collected panic, you discussed with Garreth Weasley if he knew how to brew those potions; as advanced as he was, he did not but knew they were to learn more about them next year. Rather than discuss your predicament with Professor Sharp, you turned to the master of mischief, Sebastian. Sebastian was able to find you books with directions and you worked on perfecting the brews in the Room of Requirement. You appreciated that he didn’t ask questions about it.

“They come and go. Not as frequent, but like I said, I like to be prepared,” you lied, allowing your friends’ expressions to ease.

The girls talked about their expectations for the year before getting ready for bed. You were glad to be laughing about the small things that made going to school fun: the drama and potential sources of gossip. They talked about much the school rallied around quidditch, something you had missed out on last year due Professor Black canceling the season. When it was finally time to turn in, you had to sneak open her closet to grab a potion. You weren't going to start the term off with horrible dreams that woke you up screaming.

---

You were excited to truly experience Hogwarts as a regular student. Well, more or less a regular student. You knew that you were treated slightly differently due to your title of Hero of Hogwarts. You were excited for classes and quidditch, unburdened by looming threats outside the castle walls.

After two weeks, you thought everything was going good as you adjusted to a new normal. And it was, until you heard something that made you choke on your morning coffee at breakfast.

“Did you hear that heartthrob Sebastian Sallow made Slytherin quidditch team as a beater?” a third year gossiped with her friend.

“Everything good?” Constance asked, slapping your back.

“Just surprised,” you managed to croak. “Wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

“That Sallow made the quidditch team?” Everett Clopton asked from across the table.

You shook your head. “Heartthrob.”

Samantha and Constance burst out laughing. You shot them a confused look.

“Maybe you’re too close to him to have noticed,” Samantha said, “but puberty took him through the ringer over the summer.”

You raised an eyebrow before turning around to try to find him at the Slytherin table. So far, you had managed to avoid talking to him and, consequently, really getting a good look at him. You spotted a mop of brown hair but it wasn’t enough to confirm Samantha’s statement.

“So he’s a heartthrob now?”

Constance nodded. “Before his sister got sick, he was fairly well-liked across houses. Just a funny, goofy guy who was always up for a good time. Quite popular. Anne gets sick and suddenly he disappears from the spotlight. You show up and he’s sort of back to normal, but it was mostly when you were around. And now, puberty plus his old charm, simple equation for heartthrob status.”

“And he’s on quidditch now,” Everett added, earning him a look of accusation from Constance. His hands went up in a sign of defense. “I’m just saying I’ve heard girls like an athlete.”

Samantha hummed in content. “He’s not wrong.”

“Thank you!”

---

Two weeks later, the girls were relaxing in the common room after a long day of classes.

“Is it quidditch yet?” you asked, laying down on a couch in the common room.

“Nope,” Constance answered her, popping the ‘p.’ “Next weekend, and we’re not even playing yet. Slytherin plays Hufflepuff.”

You sighed. “I want to watch quidditch!”

Samantha laughed at you from a nearby arm chair. “You’ll get your fair amount of quidditch, don’t worry about it, L/N.” She paused. “So are we going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?”

“I’d like to. Not to say I’m tired of the castle already, but I could use some chocolate frogs and butterbeer,” Constance said.

“Yeah, I’m game for Hogsmeade,” you agreed.

At that moment, Andrew Larson and Everett appeared next to the girls.

“Did we hear Hogsmeade trip?” Everett asked, resting his arm on your head.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“Is it… a girls’ trip?” Andrew asked, looking from Constance to Samantha and then stopping on you.

“Are you trying to get an invite?” Samantha laughed, poking his side.

“Just trying to gauge if it’s worth seeing if you mind if we tag along,” he replied defensively. “Didn’t want to intrude if it was definitely a girls’ trip. We would’ve made a point to avoid you.”

You removed Everett’s arm from your head. “You guys can join us. Make sure you invite Amit too.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Andrew!” you chastised.

“Would you rather we have you invite Puffskein or Mahendra?” Constance asked with crossed arms.

“Amit it is!” Andrew declared.

“Plus, he’ll probably say no,” Samantha said, sitting on the armrest of Constance’s chair. “It’s just the effort that counts. It’s called maintaining a friendship.”

The next morning, only Everett and Andrew sat down next to the girls.

“Sammy was right, he said no but thanked us for inviting him,” Everett said, stealing a piece of toast off your plate.

You smacked his arm playfully.

“What if I was going to eat that?”

“You’d grab another slice and butter it again.”

You narrowed your eyes at Everett before laughing. “I hate you.”

“Hmm, debatable.”

Constance cleared her throat across the table from you. You looked at her with confused looks.

“If you’re done flirting, are we ready for Hogsmeade?” she asked.

You gasped, looking at Everett. “Shit, were you flirting?”

He shook his head vigorously, causing his curls to bounce.

“I wasn’t either.”

“You’re literally my sister.”

You nodded. “Yes, we are siblings. Not lovers.”

“Okay, but Hogsmeade? Are we going?” Samantha repeated Constance’s question.

“Yeah,” you said, standing up while taking one last sip of your coffee. “Let’s boogie.”

As the group walked to Hogsmeade, the girls led the group, walking three across on the path. The boys followed, both of them with their hands shoved in their pockets.

“You really think of her as your sister?” Andrew asked Everett in a low voice, hoping there was enough distance between them and the girls that they wouldn’t be able to overhear.

Everett gave him a sideways glance, smiling. “Just about. She’s perfect but I think I was friendzoned since day one. Made peace with it,” he said with a laugh. “Now, she’s just a good friend when she’s not hidden behind her little guard dogs.”

Andrew made a face.

“Hey, she’s here with us today. Not them…” Everett paused. “Have you seen her with them since the start of term?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” Andrew replied, thinking about it. “I’ve seen her with Natty and maybe once or twice with Garreth. Otherwise she’s been around Connie and Sam.”

“That’s about what I thought. She’s been pairing up with Natty in Defense rather than Sallow.”

Andrew let out a hearty laugh. “Now that’s a welcomed change!”

You looked back at them, not having heard anything. “Honeydukes, yeah?”

They nodded. The group adjusted their path to the sweets shop. Once inside, the group split apart, each beelining to their favorite candies. Andrew stayed close to you, pretending to look over pumpkin pasties while you debated between chocolate frogs, choco-locos and chocolate cauldrons.

“What do you think, Andrew: frogs or cauldrons?” you asked, turning towards him.

“Hm? Oh, I like frogs better,” he said. “But why not get a few of both? Can’t hurt to have variety.”

You nodded and took a handful of each. Andrew’s eyes went wide; he hadn’t expected you to grab that many.

“Got galleons waste, have you?”

“I’m going to spend them anyways. Either I buy them all now and have chocolate on hand, or I have to sneak out to get my fix in the middle of the week. Do you want me to get caught and lose points for Ravenclaw?” you explained with a laugh.

“Suppose not, although you do earn us a fair share.”

You walked towards the other end of the store and he followed, after putting back the pumpkin pasty that he wasn’t actually interested in.

“How do you sneak out and make it here and back so quickly?” he asked, standing next to you at the doxy floss stand.

“I mean, Moon doesn’t lock the doors too well,” you lied. You weren't going to tell him about the one-eyed witch statue that Garreth had shown you last year. “And then I either run or take a broom. But I’m also not against riding a thestral.”

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I always forget that you can see them.”

“Trust me, I wish I couldn’t.” You paused, looking up at Andrew. “They are eerily beautiful creatures and wonderful beasts, but the cost… Some things you just wish you could unsee.”

George Osric. Solomon Sallow. Eleazar Fig. Countless goblins and ashwinders who had attacked her and others. You shivered at the thought of them. Andrew put a loose arm around your shoulder to give you a light comforting squeeze. Then he let go, not wanting to push you past your comfort level.

“I suppose you could say I’m lucky that I can’t see ‘em yet.”

“Yet?” you asked with a soft chuckle. “What makes you so certain you’ll see someone die?”

He shrugged. “I figure I’ll see an old relative die or something. Definitely won’t be in my line of work after Hogwarts.”

“What are you planning on doing?”

“I want to work in legal for the ministry. My uncle works in a different department, but I’ve met some of his coworkers and it’s fascinating.”

“Legal… Not my cup of tea, but someone has to do it.”

“What is your cup of tea?”

“Research, I think. I want to know about ancient magic.”

He nodded and looked around the shop. Constance and Samantha were checking out and Everett already had his purchase in a bag.

“Looks like they’ll be waiting on us soon,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of their friends.

“Oh, yeah.”

You checked out and the group walked outside. They weren’t quite ready to hole up in the Three Broomsticks to drink butterbeer until it was late so they walked around the village. You made them walk over to J. Pippin’s so you could get more lavender.

“What does she need lavender for?” Andrew asked as the rest of the group waited outside the shop.

“She’s got a collection of sleeping potions,” Constance said nonchalantly. “Used to get wicked nightmares last year and now it’s just habit to keep it on hand. Emergency stock, if you will.”

“Remember in the spring, when she was falling asleep in Defense and Charms? A literal walking zombie? Yeah, she hadn’t sleep in like a week because of the nightmares. We convinced her to talk to Blainey and it seems to have helped,” Samantha added.

“Gods, I do remember that,” Everett said. “Hecat was so concerned to see her on the floor. Thought she was cursed or something and then Sallow gave her a nudge and determined she had just fallen asleep.” Then he looked at Andrew and then back at the girls. “Do you know why she hasn’t been around her guard dogs this term?”

“Huh, I suppose she hasn’t, has she?” Samantha asked. “She hasn’t said anything to us, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Everett hummed. You exited the shop with a bag that said you bought more than lavender from Mr. Pippin. Once in the shop, you looked over his inventory and bought everything you thought you might run low on in the next week.

“Looks a bit more than lavender,” Samantha snorted.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I like to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” Andrew asked, trying to get a peek in the bag. “Decorating the entire common room and roof with flowers?”

You tightened your grip on the bag. “My ingredient stores won’t be running low anytime soon and when you need billywig stings, don’t be coming to me because you know I’ll have them.”

“Always threatening to withhold things from us!” Everett gasped. “But you cave every time.”

“That was one time and you fell off your broom from like 30 feet!”

“You were the first one there and basically forcing the wiggenweld down my throat,” he reminded you.

“Fine, next time you are in a life or death situation, I’ll stand back and let you suffer.”

The group walked to the gardens outside of Hogsmeade to relax for a bit. You sat on a bench at the bottom of the overlook, the part more in the garden that looked at the enchanted dragon bush. You loved how it moved. You could hear snippets of the rest of the group’s conversation up on the overlook platform. You enjoyed your little bit of solitude, and appreciated that they let you have it.

“Could you pine any harder?” you heard Samantha ask.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Andrew’s voice responded.

There was laughter and you didn’t catch what was said next. From your distance, overlapping voices meant you couldn’t follow the conversation. You were slightly interested in who Andrew was pining after. You weren’t interested in him, but you were nosy and liked knowing other people’s busy, despite wanting them to stay out of yours.

“... sister!” Everett laughed.

You heard one of the gates open and close. You turned to see Sebastian entering the garden. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and he looked frustrated. His gaze was intently set on the ground. You weren't sure if he saw you but you were in no mood to talk to him yet. You stood up and hurried up the steps to your friends.

“I think it’s time for butterbeers!” you announced as you reached the platform.

Andrew’s face was bright red, but the rest of the group seemed overly merry.

“Yes, let’s go!” Samantha agreed, grabbing your arm and the two of you led the group to the Three Broomsticks.

As they walked, you glanced sideways at Samantha.

“So, who is Andrew pining after?” you whispered.

A wicked smile crossed her face. “Oh, that’s something for him to tell you.”

“But obviously he’s told you!”

“Hm, no,” she replied with a soft laugh. “I found it glaringly obvious and confronted him about it last year.”

You stopped walking with your arm still linked with Samantha, therefore causing her to stop walking too. The rest of the group was still a few steps back so no one ran into each other.

“It’s been at least a year?” you asked in disbelief. “How have I not noticed?”

“You’ve been busy and distracted. I don’t blame you.”

You narrowed your eyes at Samantha, causing her to laugh.

“Guys, come on! I need butterbeer!” Constance whined, pushing in between her friends.

She grabbed your hands and practically pulled you into the Three Broomsticks, leaving the boys to trail them once again. You managed to find an open table with enough seats for all of them. Sirona wasted no time in placing butterbeers in front of them.

“I love how she just knows,” Constance said cheerfully, picking up her mug.

“It’s not like she’s going to serve us meade or firewhiskey,” you chirped.

“Maybe for a few extra galleons she might,” Everett teased. “That would require me to have a few extra galleons to slide her way though.”

“Oh, just wait for Ravenclaw to win at quidditch. You’ll be supplied,” Andrew said, giving Everett a nudge with his shoulder.

“What happens after a win?” you asked, foam sitting on your upper lip.

“That’s right!” Samantha exclaimed. “You haven’t been to a Hogwarts party yet!”

You raised her eyebrows.

“There’s usually one after each quidditch game, hosted by the winning house. If it’s in another house, you have to arrange to be let in. Sometimes, if the seventh years are feeling frisky, they’ll have parties at other times. But it’s mainly for quidditch,” Everett explained. “Being that it was canceled last year, no parties.”

“Damn, I feel bad for the seventh years,” you muttered.

“Um, Hufflepuff definitely had a gathering,” Constance piped up. “I think the entirety of seventh years were accounted for.”

“What?” Everett coughed.

“I guess you didn’t get an invite,” she said smugly. “Lenora let me in.”

Gesturing to Constance, Andrew said, “See, you have to know someone.”

“I could maybe go to party at each house if I play it right,” you said. As you listed off your friends, you counted on your fingers, “Obviously I can attend Ravenclaw. Natty would let me into the Gryffindor Common Room. Poppy for Hufflepuff…” She paused to think. “Maybe Imelda or Priscilla for Slytherin?”

“What about Gaunt or Sallow?” Samantha asked, a little too eagerly.

“What about them?”

You knew what they were asking. You just didn’t want to answer it. You saw as everyone at the table exchanged knowing glances with each other.

“Couldn’t they let you in?” Samantha asked, more cautious this time.

“That requires them to want me around.”

The table was quiet.

“And why wouldn’t they want you around?”

You sighed. “Shit went down last year and they haven’t tried to talk to me since so…”

You pressed your lips together, hoping they would glean to drop it from your expression.

“Maybe they tried to write you over the summer?” Constance offered, not changing the subject.

“I doubt that.”

At that moment, Sirona arrived with more butterbeers for the table. They chorused thank yous to her. When she was gone, the table was quiet again as everyone sipped their drinks.

“So… that Potions essay?” Everett asked.

“Oh, don’t even get me started on it!” Constance said.

You sighed and drank your butterbeer, zoning out from the conversation. Maybe they had tried to write you over the summer, but you was determined to not be found.

After a few hours, the group left the Three Broomsticks to make their way back to the castle. Everett had linked arms with Constance and Samantha, joyfully having a loud discussion over why Arithmancy was better than Divination. You thought they were walking quicker than they usually did, putting some distance between them and you and Andrew.

Andrew reached out and grabbed your hand as they approached the road signs a little bit outside of the village. “Hey, Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You stopped walking. “Yeah, of course. What’s up, Andrew?”

You thought he looked nervous.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the quidditch game next weekend.”

“I think the entire castle is going,” you replied, a little confused.

“No, yeah, the entire castle will be going. But I’m asking if you’d like to go with me. Like a date.”

“Oh, Andrew…” you started to say.

Then a figure came barreling in between them, knocking Andrew to the ground. You didn’t see who it was.

“Oi, Sallow! What the fuck?” Andrew yelled from the ground.

Turning to see a green and silver cloak disappearing around the corner, you were able to see him flip them off. You helped Andrew stand up and he dusted himself off.

“So?” he asked.

You bit her bottom lip nervously. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone.”

“Oh,” he said dejectedly, but quickly recovered. “I get that. Hope that doesn’t make things awkward between us…”

“I’ll try to not let it,” you said with a soft smile.

You started to walk again.

“But that was Sebastian who came barreling through?” you asked.

“I’m like 95% sure it was. Not sure what his problem is.”

“You and me both,” you said, shaking your head.

---

You skipped dinner on Thursday to study in the library. You planned on being there for a while and wanted to ensure that you had a good table. You took up half of a table on the upper level. You were happily chugging away on various assignments that you put off during the week. It was fairly obvious when dinner had ended because students started pouring into the library and began taking up any open table. You tried to condense your stuff, but your efforts were futile. With a sigh, you just continued to work.

You only looked up when someone placed their stuff directly across from you. Seeing who it was, your eyes narrowed despite knowing he couldn’t see it.

“This table is for mudbloods only,” you snapped.

Ominis looked horrified at what you said. “Y/N!” he whispered.

“Ominis, where did you disappear to?” Sebastian asked before suddenly appearing next to him and seeing you sat at the table.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” Ominis said, ignoring Sebastian.

You shifted your glare from Ominis to Sebastian.

“You don’t say something like that unless you mean it. And it sounded like he meant it.”

Sebastian looked uncomfortable and confused, looking from you to Ominis.

“Sebastian, I think we need to find a different table,” Ominis muttered, picking his bag back up. “We will see you later, Y/N.”

Before they were out of earshot, you heard Sebastian whisper, “Is she still on what I said?”

Ominis nodded. You were glad to see Sebastian hang his head. A Hufflepuff seventh year sat at your table after a few minutes passed. You worked in silence, not really acknowledging each other, which was just fine for you since you didn’t know him. You sat working until Madam Scribner announced that the library was closing in ten minutes and students needed to begin packing up. You stole a glance at the boy as you piled your stuff back into your bag. He was decently handsome and tall. You looked away as soon as you saw him sneak his own glance. You ended up heading down the stairs at the same time and leaving the library together.

“Y/N, right?” he asked as you walked through the doors leading to the Central Hall.

“Yeah. That’s me. I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

He held out his hand. “Elias Cotton.”

You shook his hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Elias Cotton.”

He smiled. “It was nice to work across from you. If you ever need a study buddy, have Poppy find me.”

Then he walked away towards the Hufflepuff Common Room. You stood there, watching him disappear down a set of stairs. You blinked a few times to process what had just happened. You hadn’t spoken until then; why did he think you needed a study buddy? You were mildly amused that he knew you were a friend of Poppy. You shook your head before turning to take a long route back to Ravenclaw Tower. You’d have to ask Poppy what she knew about him later.

---

You decided you would ask Poppy about this Elias Cotton during Beasts class. You were learning about Golden Snidgets, which both of you already knew in extreme detail.

“Poppy, can I ask you about someone?”

Poppy hummed, not looking up from her sketch of a snidget.

“Elias Cotton? I think he’s a seventh year and in Hufflepuff.”

Her head snapped up, wide eyes staring at you.

“What about him?”

You felt yourself blush. “He studied at my table in the library yesterday. Just trying to see what he’s like?”

“Probably the sweetest guy in all of Hogwarts, a true gentleman. Definitely a favorite within Hufflepuff. Quite shy though.” She paused. “I think his girlfriend broke up with him last week.”

Poppy eyed you for some time of reaction. Nothing.

“Huh. You say he’s shy? That would explain why he didn’t say anything to me until after we left the library.”

“What’d he say?”

“Introduced himself, said it was nice to study at the same table as me and if I ever needed a study buddy, to ask you where he was,” you listed off.

Poppy thought this was more exciting than you did. Poppy squealed.

“Ms. Sweeting, Ms. L/N, something to share with the class?” Professor Howin asked in a stern tone.

You quickly glanced at the board.

“Sorry, Professor,” you said, realizing that there was nothing to correct on the board and you didn’t feel like telling the whole class that you and Poppy were part of the reason Golden Snidgets were being seen again.

Professor Howin continued with her lesson. You gave Poppy a warning look.

“No more squealing, but explain,” you hissed.

“He was flirting with you!” Poppy whispered, still visibly excited. “He’s freshly single and you’re not being guarded by your dogs.”

You suppressed a groan. “How long until they lose the nickname?”

Poppy shrugged.

“Also, flirting?” You shook your head. “There must be something in the air.”

“What do you mean?” Poppy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Larson asked me out on the way back from Hogsmeade last weekend.”

Poppy light smacked your shoulder. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

You gave her a sideways glance, trying to look like you were paying attention.

“I didn’t think it was that important? I turned him down.”

“Y/N, you didn’t!”

“What?”

“Andrew is fine. Goodness…” Poppy paused. “So you’ve had at least two good looking boys make moves at you. Turned down one, and the other one put the power in your hands.”

“Elias is about to be disappointed too. I don’t think I’m ready to date.”

“You go up against ashwinders and poachers and trolls. I’ve seen you charge completely unfazed into spider caverns, despite claiming you hate them. And you’re not ready to date?”

You flushed. “I know what I’m doing, what I’m walking into with all of that. Dates? No.”

“If you had the choice to go on a date with a boy or give the Hebridean Black her egg back again, which would you do?” Poppy asked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

“Dragon. Easily.”

---

You found it odd walking to the quidditch pitch for the match the next morning. Poppy had found you at breakfast to give you a Hufflepuff flag. You were sure that if they had had games last year, you would’ve been a proud Slytherin supporter. But it wasn’t last year. So you accepted the flag and promised to find Poppy in the stands.

All around you as you walked were whispers of excitement to see Sebastian make his quidditch debut. Apparently Imelda Reyes, the Slytherin captain, had been bragging about him all week, only adding to his ‘heartthrob’ status. Despite your mental notes to actually look at him to see if he deserved that title, you still managed to avoid looking at him for more than a moment. The library incident had been the most interaction you’d shared so far this term.

It didn’t take too long to find Poppy within the sea of Hufflepuffs. She saved you a spot at the front of the section and excitedly waved you over once she saw you. You had to awkwardly scoot behind some students to get to Poppy, but you thought it was worth it.

“This better be some game!” you said to Poppy. “You may need to explain parts of the game to me.”

“Red ball goes through hoops for points. Three chasers for each team trying to score. Keepers protect. Beaters hit the budgers, both an attack and protect position. Seeker tried to catch the snitch,” Poppy quickly recapped for you.

You nodded and peered over the edge of the stands as the teams exited the locker rooms. The stands erupted into cheers as the teams mounted their brooms and took flight. Each team did a lap of the pitch before taking their starting positions. As the Slytherins flew over them, you could’ve sworn that you made eye contact with Sebastian. At least in his uniform, he did look a bit more muscular and filled out. You didn’t think that was enough to be suddenly considered a ‘heartthrob’ but what did you know?

“Excuse me,” a voice said near you.

A few students muttered around them. You looked to your left, where no one had been standing a moment before. Elias Cotton had appeared. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi, Elias Cotton!” you said. “Just in time for the game to start!”

Poppy leaned forward to make sure that she heard you right.

“Elias!”

“Hi Poppy, Y/N.”

Standing back up straight, Poppy elbowed you in the side lightly.

“Told you!” she said in a singsong voice.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. “A Hufflepuff in the Hufflepuff section doesn’t mean anything.”

Your attention was quickly turned to the field as Madam Kogawa blew her whistle, starting the game. Most of your conversation ceased. The section cheered loudly every time Hufflepuff scored, and booed when Slytherin scored. It appeared to be a fairly even match. You did watch Sebastian for most of the game, impressed as he flew with skill and had extreme precision aiming bludgers toward the Hufflepuff team. It would likely come down to who caught the snitch.

After Hufflepuff scored three times in a row, Elias leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You are welcome to come to the party after we win.”

You wanted to respond with something like ‘I know, Poppy’s going to let me in.’

However, you blushed and all you could get out was a flustered, “Okay.”

“Watch out!” someone yelled and you and Elias were pulled in opposite directions as a bludger broke the stands where you had been standing only a moment before.

You looked out into the pitch. Sebastian looked like he had just swung his bat, and his face was seething with anger.

“What the?” you asked, looking from Elias to Poppy.

There was a whistle and Lucan Brattleby announced “Penalty on Slytherin beater Sebastian Sallow, bumphing.”

“In english, Poppy?” you asked, looking at your friend.

“Hitting a bludger at spectators.”

Elias now had to stand a little off to the side so he didn’t accidentally step into the hole the bludger left. He seemed very thrown off. From the stands, Imelda could be heard yelling at Sebastian for being an idiot. Based on how his aim had been all game, you could only assume it had been on purpose, although you weren't sure on why he would send a bludger your way, unless he really hated you.

Hufflepuff made the penalty shot and the game continued. It wasn’t too much longer before the Hufflepuff seeker caught the snitch, confirming their win over Slytherin. Fans clad in yellow and black erupted in wild cheers. As the boisterous crowd headed back to the castle, you could hear Imelda berating Sebastian inside the locker room as you passed.

“Jeez, she is pissed.”

“She should be,” Poppy said as they kept walking. “I’m pretty sure their seeker spotted the snitch as Kogawa blew the whistle for the penalty. The game could’ve been over and in their favor.”

“Why did he hit the bludger toward me?”

“Maybe he’s mad at you for something?” Poppy suggested.

“He was the one who hurt me. I’ve done nothing for him to be mad about,” you defended yourself.

“It was just a suggestion. But you’re coming to the party, right?”

You nodded. “I was planning on it.”

“Cool. It usually starts some time after lunch so you can come down any time, really.”

“Is it alright if I just find you when we’re done eating? I fear if I spend too much time in Ravenclaw Tower, I’ll end up having to bring everyone.”

Poppy laughed, “Of course.”

You had barely entered the Great Hall, not even halfway down the Hufflepuff table to sit down when you heard a commotion outside the hall. Several students turned to investigate, so you felt inclined to see what the fuss was about. As you got closer, you heard people say something about a fight between a Slytherin and Hufflepuff. You pushed forward through the crowd. You were a little concerned that they were calling it a ‘fight’ and not a ‘duel.’ As you got closer, you heard someone say it was Sebastian. Color drained from your face. Once at the front of the crowd that had circled around the boys, you saw Sebastian standing over Elias, who was on the ground, both breathing heavily. Elias, shaking and with a bloody nose, had his wand out, pointing at Sebastian. Sebastian’s wand appeared to be in his back pocket. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, knuckles bloody.

“Depulso!” you cast, sending an unexpecting Sebastian flying sideways into the crowd.

You ran forward to help Elias up.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” he muttered, not looking you in the eyes.

You gave him a concerned look. “Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re dating him.”

You turned bright crimson, in embarrassment and rage.

“I’m not,” you said firmly. “I’ll talk to you at the party. Apparently I have to take care of something.”

You nudged him toward the crowd on the side of the Great Hall and you turned to where Sebastian was beginning to stand up.

“Levioso,” you said calmly with a flick of her wand, sending Sebastian into the air.

He struggled in the air, which made you laugh.

“Since when are we dating?” you asked bitterly. “Hell, since when are we talking?”

“Y/N, I-” he tried to say.

“Silencio! I’ve decided I don’t want your excuses.” You walked closer to where he was still hovering. “I keep my mouth shut about you. You should do the same.”

You let him fall to the ground with a thud. He sat up, but didn’t attempt to stand. He had a worried look on his face, knowing that you was referring to the events of the Catacombs.

“And you can tell Ominis this too, you two are not my guard dogs. Stop acting like you still are.” You paused, debating if you had anything more to say. “Might as well… Expelliarmus.”

His wand went flying out of his back pocket. You turned and went back towards the Great Hall, the crowd of students parting to let you through. You found Poppy tending to Elias’s bloody nose.

“It’s not broken, is it?” you asked as you approached them.

“It was, but I fixed it. Now he’s just… bloody,” Poppy answered. “Elias isn’t feeling too chatty. What the hell happened out there?”

You shifted your weight. “From what I can tell, Sebastian attacked him and claimed that we were dating. Which is almost funny being that he hasn’t spoken to me all term. Actually, we haven’t spoken since last term.”

“So you’re really not dating him?” Elias asked sheepishly.

“I’m not dating anyone.”

Poppy shook her head, smiling at you two. She felt pride in calling that Elias had been flirting with you in his own subtle way. You and Poppy both turned your heads when Imelda and Sebastian burst through the doors of the Great Hall having a loud argument.

“You already lost us the match and now you’re trying to get suspended?” she yelled at him.

“Fuck off, Imelda. Some of us have more going on in our life than quidditch.”

“I am your captain! Your behavior and reputation concerns me and the rest of the team.”

“And I can’t be bothered by that.”

The Great Hall had fallen almost silent. A few students looked at you, almost expecting you to go defuse their argument. You just rolled her eyes, sitting down between Poppy and Elias. As Sebastian and Imelda’s conversation lowered into angry whispers, the rest of the hall resumed their conversations. The Hufflepuffs around you seemed quiet for a house that just won the first quidditch match of the season. However, once they retreated to their common room, you gleaned that they were just being polite to the Slytherins.

The common room had loud music playing and a seventh year was handing out drinks. From what you could tell, the younger students were given butterbeer and older students had a few options. Poppy and you took cups of meade; Elias took a cup of butterbeer.

“No fun drink for you?” you asked.

He smiled and said, “I prefer to keep my wits about me rather than summon up false courage.”

“Hmm, noble,” you muttered, taking a sip of your drink.

You, Poppy and Elias milled around the perimeter of the common room, slightly pressed against the wall. You were fairly certain almost all of the Hufflepuffs were in the common room with a decent number of students from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. With all the people moving past you and the room being so insanely loud, you didn’t actually notice when Poppy disappeared from your side. Not knowing many other Hufflepuffs, you nervously grabbed Elias’s hand, not wanting to lose him. When he felt you hand grab his, he smiled and gave it a squeeze. He turned to look at you, but his smile fell when he saw the nervousness in your eyes.

“Let’s find somewhere to sit,” he said, leaning into your ear so you could hear him.

You nodded and followed as he pulled you into the crowd. You went deeper into the common room before finding a spot on a couch. It looked as if furniture had been pushed towards the wall to make a pseudo dancefloor. You were shocked at the number of bodies in the room. Elias pulled on your arm to get you to sit, seeing that you were still overwhelmed by it all. He was sitting on the end of the couch with you next to him. He tentatively put an arm behind you on the back of the couch. You took the opportunity to scoot a little close to him. In this situation, you felt safe.

“Is this your first Hogwarts party?” he asked, his breath hot on your neck. “I don’t recall seeing you at the one last year.”

You turned to look at him. “Didn’t make the invite list, I guess. Although, I was rather busy… and didn’t you have a girlfriend at that point?”

Elias turned a little pink. “Uh, yeah… But that’s over with. I’m surprised you weren’t invited. Definitely had your title by then.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Hero of Hogwarts can sound like snitch sometimes,” you said with a soft laugh. “But the amount of rule breaking I had to do to earn it? Makes it a bit ironic.”

“Breaking rules, huh?”

“Sneaking into the restricted section, sneaking in and out of the castle, learning spells that aren’t on the curriculum, breaking curfew a lot, missing classes, unnecessarily putting myself into danger’s way. You know.”

His mouth fell slack. He was baffled by how casually you talked about it.

“Wait, did you say spells that aren’t on the curriculum?”

You nodded slowly, blushing. “I needed to know how to protect myself and fifth year spells weren’t up to snuff.”

You really didn’t want to expand on how much you had used the Cruciatus curse on goblins and ashwinders last year. Multiple uses of an unforgivable curse would likely earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban and at that point, you might as well turn Sebastian in as well.

“I’m sure you only did what you had to. Plus, from what I’ve heard from rumors, trouble did come and find you by itself. A troll in Hogsmeade followed by Rookwood accosting you in the Three Broomsticks? That story made its rounds.”

You laughed, feeling more confident.

“Well, that’s all true. I just wanted to get my own wand and school supplies. And a troll attacks the village. Sebastian and I took care of one while Officer Singer and some others led another away from the village,” you recalled, noticing a momentary distaste cross Elias’s face when you mentioned Sebastian. “And then we went to get butterbeers to celebrate. Enter Rookwood and suddenly I had the entire tavern standing up to protect me from him. It really was something.”

Elias reached toward your face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You certainly are an accomplished witch.”

“Why, thank you,” you said graciously. “So I’ve had plenty of rumors about me spread through school. I haven’t heard anything about you. Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t really much to tell,” he said meekly. “Don’t play quidditch. Never was any good at dueling. I’ve been taking alchemy, which I seem to be rather good at.”

“Alchemy… Hmmm. What about your family?”

“Got an older brother who’s graduated, obviously. He’s a magizoologist. Mum and Dad are alive and well,” he said with a chuckle at the end. “What else do you want to know?”

“Your favorite color.”

“Robin egg blue.”

You smiled widely. “I like a guy who knows his shades of colors. So much better than ‘I dunno, blue.’”

“I like a girl who’s accomplished,” he replied, glancing down at your lips briefly.

You noticed and blushed. “Having a silly title doesn’t make me accomplished.”

“But you also won Crossed Wands last year. And are a trove of knowledge,” he said, adjusting his arm so it was draped across your shoulder rather than the back of the couch. “I glanced at your work in the library. You work quickly and diligently. That seems to scream accomplished.”

“So your brother’s a magizoologist?” you asked quickly, trying to change the topic off you.

He nodded, but didn’t say anything more. He continued to look at your face. You nervously looked around, being reminded that you were at a party. No one was looking at you. Everyone seemed totally consumed in their own lives, dancing and drinking and enjoying the party. A thumb stroking your cheek brought your attention back to Elias.

“So being a hero and master duelist doesn’t make you accomplished. Tell me about you and your family. There must be more to you than extreme humility.”

You blushed again. “Don’t have much for family.” Well, not since you erased your parents’ memory of you. “Taking Beasts and Divination as my electives. Although, I’m not entirely sure why I decided to carry on with Divination, not really my cup of tea. A bit unsure of what I want to do after Hogwarts, but I’m thinking research.”

“Very on brand for a Ravenclaw. Would it be something for the ministry?”

You shrugged. “More of a personal thing, I guess. I’d probably write essays for publication. Someone has to understand all this magic around us.”

Some Gryffindors walked towards your couch and tried to sit down. It was tight with four students across. You had hoped they would get uncomfortable and leave quickly, but they didn’t.

“Let me,” Elias said, grabbing under your legs to turn you sideways and then pulling you into his lap.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise, throwing an arm around his neck to balance yourself.

Your knees were now resting on the armrest, feet dangling. Your face turned bright red.

“Too much?” he asked as if suddenly realizing how intimate this position was.

“No,” you breathed. “Just took me by surprise.”

He snaked one arm around your waist to hold you steady, the other resting on your thighs.

“You’re sure that this is okay? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You nodded. “Elias, this is fine.” You leaned in closer to his ear. “Much better than being squished up against them.”

Returning to your original position, you spotted Poppy walking through the entry to the secondary room that you were in. She was walking with Lenora, who pointed at you on Elias’s lap. Poppy’s eyes went wide and then they exchanged giggles before turning around. You sighed and rested your head on Elias’s shoulder.

“What are you doing after Hogwarts?” you asked.

“I have an apprenticeship set up in Diagon Alley for a potioneer. I figured it’s something solid to work on while I see if I can actually make anything out of Alchemy.”

“I’ve never been to Diagon Alley. Is it nice?”

He gaped at you momentarily. “What do you mean you’ve never been?”

“Fig took care of getting my school supplies and I stayed in the highlands over the summer so I just placed my orders from Hogsmeade. It’s in London, right?”

“Yes. Merlin, Y/N, you have to go!”

“I just need a reason too,” you said with a giggle.

Elias removed his hand from your thigh and traced his thumb under your jawline.

“I think that can be arranged.”

He leaned in and kissed you. It was gentle and soft at first, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to his chest. You kept one arm around his neck and placed your other hand on his chest.

You felt brutally reminded that you hadn’t kissed anyone in years, and even then, you had never properly made out with anyone. You almost gasped when his tongue touched your lips. Having parted your lips in surprise, his tongue slid into your mouth and started to explore. Your own wrestled with it for dominance.

It didn’t take long for you to adjust your position so that you were straddling Elias on the couch. You had one hand behind his head tangled in his hair with the other arm still wrapped around his neck. He had one hand firmly placed on your waist and the other up your shirt, groping your chest. You didn’t mind it.

It wasn’t until a Prefect broke you up did you realize how long you had been snogging in a public place.

“Alright, that’s enough. There are still first years out here,” he said, a hand on each’s shoulder.

You both blushed deeply.

“Maybe they should go to bed then,” Elias suggested, not looking away from you.

You, however, were looking at the Prefect.

“What time is it?”

“Almost curfew,” he answered. “So decide if you’re staying or not.”

You turned an even darker shade of red. You removed yourself from Elias’s lap.

“I’ll see you around, Cotton,” you said flirtatiously, giving him a wink.

Then you left the Hufflepuff Common Room. You took your time as you walked to Ravenclaw Tower. There weren’t many Prefects out yet and you could always use a disillusionment charm if you needed. You liked being out and about in the castle after curfew; it was always much more peaceful and you thought the moonlight gave it an eerie beauty. This meant that it was well past curfew when you entered her own common room.

You immediately saw Samantha asleep on the ground by the fire. You crouched by her to wake her up.

“Sammy Dale, wakey wakey!”

She slowly opened her eyes.

“Y/N? You’re back!”

You nodded. “Yes and it’s time for bed.”

“I’ll go to bed after you tell me about the fight and the party!”

“Should we go wake up Connie so I don’t have to tell the story twice?”

“Hmmm… no. Tell me now!”

“Can we at least go to the couch? You were sleeping on the floor.”

Samantha nodded and you got settled on the couch. You recounted the fight and breaking it up, although you left out Elias’s comment about you maybe dating Sebastian. You did explain how you put Sebastian in his place and told him he was relieved of his “guard dog” duties. Samantha’s eyes watched you intently.

“I saw you ate with Poppy and the guy Sebastian fought.”

“Elias Cotton, yeah.”

She hummed before saying, “And then you went straight to the Hufflepuff party?”

“Yeah. It was crazy. First off, getting to see another house’s common room? So cool. But also, the party was basically in full swing by the time we got there! You walk in, you’re handed a drink and then you’re basically shoved into the wall unless you’re pushing back.”

“So, how was your first Hogwarts party?”

“I’d say pretty fun. Looking forward to going to others. Drink and dancing, what could be better?” You were purposefully leaving out everything that happened with Elias. You didn’t feel you needed to tell anyone since you didn’t expect it to develop into anything.

Samantha seemed content enough with your answer and yawned. You helped her up to their dorm, where Constance was happily snoring away. Once you tucked your friend in, you grabbed a simple Sleeping Draught. You figured that day had been good enough to guarantee you good dreams.

You didn’t expect to wake up to both Constance and Samantha standing at the side of your bed, shaking you.

“You left out some very interesting details from your story, Y/N!” Samantha exclaimed.

You sat up, looking a little confused.

“She filled me in at breakfast and then we hear from the Hufflepuff table that you were snogging Elias Cotton all night?” Constance said.

“You just said dancing and drinking!”

“It didn’t seem relevant? It’s not like it’s going anywhere,” you muttered, still trying to wake up.

“Based on what we heard, it’s about all you did? Did you even dance?” Samantha asked.

“No… But we were surrounded by dancing. So close enough?”

“No! Not close enough! Plus, now you have to deal with Andrew,” Constance told you.

“Why do I have to deal with Andrew?”

“Boy has been pining after you basically since you were sorted into Ravenclaw. We finally convince him to just ask you out and you say no, only to be snogging someone else the next weekend? He’s a bit upset, Y/N,” Constance explained.

“It was just kissing. It didn’t mean anything!”

“Cotton seemed fairly happy about it at breakfast,” Samantha chirped.

“Great. Good for him. Where is Andrew?”

“Common room.”

“I’ll get dressed and sort stuff out.”

Once dressed, you descended the stairs to find Andrew. Your friends followed close behind, not wanting to miss out on what was most likely going to be very entertaining for them. Andrew was sitting at a table with Everett, playing wizards’ chess.

“Andrew, I hear we need to talk,” you said as you approached the table.

“You can say that,” he grumbled, not looking up from the game.

“Andrew,” you said, trying to get him to look at you.

“So when I asked you to the quidditch game and you said you weren’t ready to date, you really meant that you didn’t want to date me? You could’ve just said no!”

“I’m not ready to date. I’m not dating anyone!”

“I heard you two were pretty cozy at the Hufflepuff party,” he sneered. “He’s surely not trying to hide it.”

“Yes, we made out. A proper snog. It’s called a party. Sorry I had fun!” Your voice was rising and beginning to carry.

“A proper snog?” Andrew gasped.

“Yes,” you said indignantly. “And that’s all it was and will be. Because I am not ready to date anyone. I don’t care what you hear from anyone else. I am not dating anyone.”

Their small argument had drawn attention from other Ravenclaws in the common room. You hoped that this could help cancel out whatever rumors were already spreading about you and Elias. You weren't a fan that he was leaning into them, especially since you didn’t spend the night with him. If you had, that would have been another story.

---

You had spent the rest of the weekend doing homework and informing anyone who came up to you that you wasn’t dating the Hufflepuff. It was certainly more people than you would’ve liked. By the time Beasts class rolled around, you were hoping to get Poppy to spread the word around the Hufflepuff Common Room that you were not dating Elias.

“Yeah, I’ll spread it around. I can even tell Elias to shut up, assuming you’re avoiding being seen with him for the time being. Although, I must say, so much for taking another dragon over spending time with a boy,” she teased with a grin.

“Oh shut up! But, thank you for helping squash these rumors. I figured I should avoid him since that would only add to the rumors,” you said with a laugh. Professor Howin was still talking with a student from an earlier class.

“I’ve been thinking about something though. Was Sebastian around when Andrew asked you out in Hogsmeade?”

“Actually, yes. Andrew asked and then Sebastian comes barreling through, knocking Andrew to the ground.”

“Huh. That only helps my theory.”

You gave her a look. “And that theory is?”

“I don’t think Sebastian likes seeing you with other guys, especially not in a romantic setting. It would explain the bludger.”

You gave her a confused look as you played with the Golden Snidget chick on your desk, still waiting for the professor to start the class.

“Sebastian pushes down Andrew in Hogsmeade when he hears him ask you. He sees Elias standing too close for his comfort during the game? Launches a bludger to force you two apart. I guess Elias must’ve said something while walking to the Great Hall when Sebastian attacked him… I didn’t peg him for a muggle fighter though.” She paused. “Anyways, sounds like Sebastian is jealous or overly protective. Maybe both.”

You rolled your eyes. “Idiotic is what he is. He has nothing to be jealous of since I’m not going to date anyone. And, please, like I need protecting. He’s seen me fight more trolls and ashwinders last year…”

“I know. But just think about it. Have you seen the way he looks at you? Last year, the way you two flirted and were always together?”

“Poppy, what are you implying?”

“You know fully well what I’m implying.”

You groaned.

“You don’t know him like I do,” you said. “There is no way that Sebastian likes me like that.”

And then Professor Howin cleared her throat, apologized for starting class late and began that day’s lecture on Golden Snidget chicks.

---

You learned from a Ravenclaw quidditch player that Slytherin had the pitch booked for practice on Wednesday. You were determined to talk to Ominis about what Poppy had suggested in Beast class. If anyone knew, it would be him and you were desperate enough to swallow your pride. You had taken claim to a spot on the Central Hall fountain outside the library. You waited and watched.

You saw him approach the library.

Standing up, you called out “Ominis!”

He visibly tensed and stopped walking. He turned in the direction of your voice. You were already walking toward him, which he knew because of his outstretched wand.

“Do I need to run or cast Protego?” he asked nervously.

“Neither,” you said shortly. “I have a few questions.”

His body eased slightly. “Okay…”

“Do you know why Sallow is attacking every boy who asks me out?”

“Is it… not obvious?”

“Ominis,” you warned.

“You can say we are not your guard dogs anymore but I do not think Sebastian possesses the ability to just let you go.”

Your eyes narrowed, searching his face for something more than what he was saying. “I’m not sure I’m understanding what you are saying.”

“Let’s sit, shall we?” he offered with a sigh. “Let me tell you about the summer.”

You walked to an alcove up the stairs where no one else was sitting. Ominis sat with his back all the way against the wall, giving him impossibly perfect posture. You, however, sat cross legged on the bench, turned towards Ominis with your elbows resting on your knees.

“So this summer?”

“Utterly horrible without you. Even worse with Sebastian spending almost every moment sulking. I am honestly not sure if he would have done anything at all without me there. Like not eating, bathing, maintaining the house.” He paused. “And he has become increasingly insufferable this term.”

“Okay…”

“Listen, Y/N, he regretted what he said from the moment he said it. I hate to have to define it, but we were both aghast to hear what you had planned. He just chose the absolute worst words to use.”

You didn’t say anything.

“Did you… did you do it?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Where did you end up spending your summer?”

“Traveling. Never in one spot too long.”

He nodded. “I wish you could have seen the number of half-written letters that littered the floor in Feldcroft. I think he tried to send one or two, but the owl came back with the letter.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t reachable by owl for anyone. Constance and Samantha gave me an earful about that. Oops,” you said, not sounding remorseful. “But you mean to say that he would’ve died without you this summer?”

“Essentially. It was like after Anne was first cursed again.”

You laughed dryly, causing Ominis to grimace slightly. “Except he caused this.”

His lips formed a thin line. “He did.”

There was silence for a moment.

“He has a tendency to push away people who care about him, doesn’t he?” you asked softly.

“I suppose you could say that.”

“Solomon, before the Catacombs, obviously cared for the twins. Sure, he only gave them tough love, but I think that’s just who he was. Anne saw what Sebastian did, even if he was just trying to heal her. I’m surprised that you’re still at his side, given everything he’s done. Even if some of it has been with my encouragement. The Scriptorium… And then what he called me. When I’ve been at his side since I met him. I wanted to ensure that I could stay by his side and then he calls me… that,” you said, scoffing at the end.

“He might regret losing you the most,” Ominis said, his voice tender.

“And he shows it by attacking every boy who asks me out?”

“He’s rash.”

You laughed heartily.

“These are not his words, but they seem to have the right feel to them. Sebastian thinks of you as his and anyone threatening that is, well, a threat. So he takes care of the threat.”

You blinked at him. “That I’m his? Merlin, is he really telling people that we are dating?”

“I do not think he has gone that far,” he said, biting his bottom lip nervously. “At least verbally. It is sort of implied?”

You groaned loudly. “Well, if it didn’t get into his head after he fought Elias, you can remind him that we are not dating.”

You stood up and left Ominis sitting on the bench alone. You marched all the way back to Ravenclaw Tower and up to your dorm. You had never been more glad that it was empty. You did not have it in you to talk to Constance and Samantha, nor anyone else. Feeling more irritated than you had before talking to Ominis, you tried to focus all of her energy into finishing your homework. Once you had finished, you decided to skip dinner. You downed both a Sleeping Draught and Dreamless Sleep Potion.

---

As the rest of the week passed, you were still adamantly denying the dating Elias rumors. You had managed to avoid him since the party, not even seeing him at meals in the Great Hall, but that might have had more to do with you not actively looking for him. Perhaps Poppy had given him an earful and he was avoiding you as well. At some point, you overheard someone say that he was in the Hospital Wing, suffering from a nasty combination of hexes. You just sighed and continued on your way to class. You figured that not visiting would enforce the notion that it had just been a snog and that you were nothing more.

The Potions classroom was a mixture of emotions when you walked through the doors. The female portion seemed to be buzzing with excitement while the males were more disinterested. You looked at the board where Professor Sharp had scrawled “Amortentia.” You took your seat next to Garreth.

“What’s the deal with Amortentia?” you asked, leaning over to him.

“Only the most powerful love potion,” he answered. “That’s why,” he gestured to the giggling girls, “they are all so excited.”

“Huh… Doesn’t seem like something they should teach us how to brew?”

“Oh, I’m not,” Professor Sharp said, standing near your station. “I’ll be teaching how to recognize the potion, its effects and its antidote. Those are far more useful.”

Professor Sharp brought the rest of the class’s attention to him and he began the lesson. The first half was extremely detailed. Every characteristic of the potion. Its effects on the drinker. You were intrigued by it; you would never brew it but magic this powerful always drew your attention. You felt that the inventor had been trying to make an actual love potion, rather than the obsession potion it really was.

Professor Sharp paused his lecture to show them a small cauldron of Amortentia. He lifted the lid so they could see its mother-of-pearl sheen and perfect spirals of steam. Then, he invited each student to smell it so they would know what it smelled like to them. Some students were eager to share what they smelled while others were more sheepish. Garreth turned nearly the same shade of his hair, which you momentarily teased him about. But then it was your turn to smell the potion, which would smell like whatever attracted you the most.

After barely taking one whiff of the Amortentia potion, you tumbled backwards into a potion station. You felt as if you were going to faint.

“Professor, may I be excused?”

Professor Sharp looked you over briefly. “Very well.”

You left your stuff behind as you bolted out the door. Sebastian watched you leave before raising his hand.

“Professor, may I be excused as well?”

“Mr. Sallow, are you going to chase after Ms. L/N?”

Sebastian didn’t know what answer the professor wanted to hear so he settled on saying nothing. Apparently his facial expression betrayed him.

“Ms. L/N is a remarkable young witch, fully capable of handling herself,” Professor Sharp told him. “You can speak with her if she returns or after class. In other words, no, you may not be excused.”

“But sir!” he protested.

“Mr. Sallow, no.”

Sebastian slumped in his seat. He needed to check on you. His thoughts were spinning with ideas of what you could have possibly smelled in the potion that made you go so pale and need to leave the classroom to be able to compose yourself.

You kept running. You hadn’t been expecting the potion to be that potent and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You pushed through doors and ran up stairs, not paying attention to where you were going. Until you stopped and realized you found yourself outside the entrance to the Undercroft. Having left both Ominis and Sebastian in the Potions classroom, you took a breath and entered. It would be empty.

The cold air that greeted you was a friendly welcome. It was almost exactly as you had last seen it. The shattered boxes and destroyed books from your fight with Sebastian were gone. The floor and pillars had more scorch marks than you remembered, but given Sebastian’s love for Confringo, it made sense. You walked over to a couch that you had conjured in the spring. You could still hear the boys complaining about your choice to conjure a worn-looking couch, but you stood by your defense that it matched the general feeling for the Undercroft. There were two cushy armchairs across from the couch and new bookshelves along the walls, holding books and small trinkets.

Sinking into the cushy cushions, you sighed and put your head in your hands. Your brain felt foggy from the effects of smelling the Amortentia. You thought you were just supposed to smell what attracted you. You had expected fresh cookies and a woodfire, with a hint of lemon. With one small breath in, visions of your adventures with Sebastian from the previous year flashed in your mind. Each memory had its own scent that took over. The intensity of it almost made you black out. You didn’t understand why you had been so affected. Every other student was able to still function after they smelled the potion.

You also had to figure out why it showed you the memories with Sebastian. You had acknowledged ages ago that you had a crush on him from the day she met him. Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome, he had told you before you easily won your first duel against him. You adored how he cared for his sister and his determination to find a cure, willing to do whatever it took to a fault. You remembered feeling so completely utterly hurt when he called you ignorant for trusting Lodgok. But he had held you so tight after Professor Fig’s death…

You shook your head, trying to get anything sappy out of your brain. You had to remember your fight after receiving your O.W.L. results. It had been at that moment you swore that you were over him. You thought after a summer of not thinking about him, you would be over him. According to the Amortentia, that was far from true.

***

The three of you had gathered in the Undercroft to open your O.W.L. results together. After studying for hours together, it only felt right. A quick glance at the collections of O’s and E’s and singular A told you that you all passed. You had all gotten the grades you wanted and would be able to continue in your desired subjects. You took great pride in being the only one from the trio to get an O in Potions.

Being that it was your second to last day of the semester, you wanted to spend all day together. You planned on seeing each other during the summer, but spending time in the Undercroft in your uniforms was just different.

“Are you still planning on bachelor padding this summer?” you asked as you lounged on the couch.

“Bachelor padding?” Ominis asked slowly.

“She’s asking if you’ll be staying in Feldcroft, Ominis,” Sebastian clarified for you. “And yes, he is.”

“Ah. Well, I do have to go home to Gaunt Manor for a week, but that is only a quick mandatory visit.”

“You never talk about your summer plans,” Sebastian observed, looking over at you. “I mean, you said you’d come visit us, but never what you’re doing or where you’ll be the rest of it.”

“I have a few options. Haven’t decided on anything yet.”

You didn’t elaborate. Your plan was to visit your parents briefly, but not out of obligation like Ominis. You were planning on using Obliviate on them, a spell you had read about, to erase yourself from their memory. If you didn’t, they would be more than concerned about your inability to sleep without potions and then they would pry until you told them of all the events of the past year. If they knew everything, they would never let you go back and you decided that you couldn’t risk that. After wiping their memory, your plan was to wing it. You had briefly discussed renting a room from Sirona for the summer, an expensive option that would keep you local to Hogwarts. If you decided to go that route, you would’ve seen if Mr. Pippin needed an assistant or maybe the Magic Neep or Dogwood and Deathcap needed help. A part of you was still debating asking the boys if they minded you joining in. Sebastian’s uncle’s house wasn’t the biggest, but you assumed the three of you would make do. And then there was your last option: to rough it around the highlands.

“Are you going to your parents? You’re muggleborn, right?” Ominis asked.

“Yes, and yes. I don’t think I’ll be staying with them all summer.”

It wasn’t a lie but it sure did feel like one.

“So where will you be staying?” Sebastian asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I just said I haven’t decided on anything yet,” you repeated yourself.

“Okay, then why aren’t you spending the summer at your parents? What are your options?” Sebastian asked intently.

“Might get a room at the Three Broomsticks. Might travel…”

Ominis tilted his head to the side. “You didn’t answer the first question. I won’t be at my parents’ because I have a disdain for them. Sebastian, sorry mate, but he doesn’t have any parents, but at least we will be at his uncle’s place.”

You looked down at your hands and picked at your fingernails.

“I’m afraid… they won’t…” You paused, trying to find the right words. You cleared your throat before speaking again with an unsteady voice, “They won’t remember having a daughter in less than a week’s time.”

“Excuse me?” Ominis asked.

“What on earth do you mean?” followed Sebastian.

“I’m going to Obliviate them,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

They stared at you in complete shock. Sebastian looked at Ominis and then back at you.

“You’re going to do what?”

“Make them forget they ever had a daughter, let alone a witch,” you said, your voice slightly more confident.

“And why the hell would you do that?” Sebastian asked, standing up.

You sighed and then explained your fear that they wouldn’t let you come back after everything and the nightmares.

“It’s just easier this way,” you said.

“So let me get this straight, you have a loving family with both parents still alive. And you are going to choose to leave them? To have them forget about your existence?” Ominins asked in disbelief, shaking his head.

“I know it sounds insensitive, especially given both of your circumstances, but…”

Sebastian cut you off. “No, you can’t do that. You have a good family! You can’t let that go to waste. You can’t.”

“They’ll cut me from…”

“No. We wouldn’t let them do that to you. And we won’t let you do that to them,” Sebastian continued. He started pacing around the Undercroft. “You have a family that loves you and is alive and cares for you and…”

It was your turn to cut him off. “And won’t let me leave the house, maybe not even my room, if they knew how many times I was inches from death. They would block anyone from reaching me. I can’t have that.”

“Y/N,” Ominis said with concern in his voice.

“No. You two cannot convince me not to do this. I have to do this. I can’t lose magic.” Your voice, although sure of itself, was thick with emotion.

“Y/N,” Ominis repeated with more conviction. “You control ancient magic. You literally cannot lose magic.”

“They’d find a way.”

“You can’t push away your family. You can’t. You… you have…”

“I don’t have to do anything you say. I can’t lose this,” you said, gesturing to everything around you. Your voice was getting louder and determined.

“You have a good family, Y/N,” Ominis said, maintaining his calm tone. “I do not think it is wise to…”

You cut him off too. “It’s my only option. You don’t understand!”

“You are experiencing what the family-less look like here and you want to join us… That’s so…” Sebastian was struggling to find words.

“I have felt more at home here than I ever did in the muggle world. That family doesn’t matter anymore. I’d rather be an orphan.”

Hearing you say that struck a nerve with Sebastian.

“You fatuous mudblood!” he yelled at you, regretting it the moment the words exited his mouth, but that didn’t stop the red sparks from appearing at the end of his wand.

The look on your face said it all. It brought you directly back to when he had called you ignorant.

“So that’s how you really feel,” you said, suddenly sounding calm, although tears were beginning to form in your eyes.

You felt anger well up inside you. You launched Confringo at a crate in a corner, to prevent yourself from sending it at Sebastian. It felt good, a cathartic release. You sent a handful of spells towards other crates and a pile of books. Sebastian put a Protego shield around him and Ominis to protect them from your cascading spells. By the time the dust settled and smoke cleared, you were gone.

“Sebastian,” Ominis said slowly. “Please tell me you did not call her what I heard you call her.”

“I-I can’t.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “I’m afraid I’m not myself right now. Excuse me.”

Sebastian walked out of the Undercroft. His face was stoney.

You had sprinted all the way to Ravenclaw Tower. You packed your things as quickly as you could. You still technically had one more night at Hogwarts, but you didn’t care. You were leaving as soon as you could. Samantha and Constance didn’t see you leave. You were gone before they returned to the common room and were left wondering where you disappeared to. It wouldn’t be until July that you showed your face in Hogsmeade, and by that time, your parents believed that they had never had a child.

#marauder-misprint #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy #HL #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hl fic

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dootznbootz · 5 months ago

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I'm not very fond of Epic AUs where Odysseus adopts Astyanax.

It's fine for a one-off joke or comic and ofc this is just my opinion but... if Astyanax lives (like in Racine's play), he should always stay with Andromache. His actual mother, yk. Not with one of the men who sacked Troy. Zeus' prophecy is bound to happen and Odysseus knew keeping the infant around was a bad idea.

If Astyanax dies, I want to see him in Elysium with his father, finally in a peaceful place and having all of eternity to catch up. Then Andromache joins them (sending her to Asphodel would be too cruel) and they finally reunite.

Would anyone picture Neoptolemus adopting Astyanax ? The son of Achilles, who dragged Hector's body in a chariot. No ? So Achilles' associate doing the same would be weird.

And Odysseus ? I want him CRAVING for a son, waiting for so long until he can express his paternal affection (and always cursing Palamedes even after his revenge 😂).

Him meeting Telemachus all grown up should be his first real shot at fatherhood. It'd be underwhelming if he already had a little boy with him. If Telemachus has a little brother, Penelope should be the mother. Or they adopt another baby together afterwards. No Astyanax and ESPECIALLY NO TELEGONUS !

So yeah, imo Astyanax and Odysseus don't belong with each other. Any thought ?

Headsup: This is just an opinion. My opinion does not matter. If you like this AU, PLEASE don't let that stop you from creating! Just because it's not for me, doesn't mean it's not for you or for someone else :D

I absolutely agree and you absolutely put into words WHY.

There's the term "woobifying" and in some cases...I think that's what people just often do with Epic/The Odyssey. (especially from Epic) I'm saying as someone who is a very soft and fluffy person. I love soft and sweet fics and ideas. I love stuff that makes me smile. But I almost feel as though with certain soft things, you're taking away what makes characters who they are. which DOESN'T make me smile lol

like I think there's more fun in simply a "no-war AU" than the "Astyanax lives AU" xD like, that way, Odysseus is with his family, gets to be a dad, Astyanax gets to live (let's not think too hard about how "no war may have meant no Astayanax")

As that way, they still get to be in character as well.

Penelope and Odysseus for example, are scallywags lol. They scheme and swindle. They giggle and kick their feet when they get extra cattle. They hold grudges. They can be snooty and prideful. They're as full of love as they are full of hate. Odysseus, during the Sack of Troy, in both the Odyssey AND Epic, will do whatever it takes to get home. Like yes, in Epic, Jay has it where Odysseus has to "become ruthless" but I can understand what he's doing with the narrative. Odyssey Odysseus? Um...Iphigenia is proof that Odysseus is already ruthless.

Btw, why is Astyanax the only one Odysseus would want to save with these AUs? What about Iphigenia? Is it because of Epic?

Yes, I DO think Odysseus (and Penelope for that matter) have a lot of parental instinct. I plan to write Odysseus carving lil wooden toys for random kids just as something to do. He does tricks. (ngl, while it seems they weren't around in the Mycenaean era, Yo-yos were a thing in ancient Greece. I just KNOW Odysseus would be the type to do so many tricks. (also string and wood🥹)) He has a soft spot for Greater Ajax's boy. My goober was friends with Menelaus and Agamemnon even before he met Penelope (he saw two exiled guys take back their kingdom and thought "hm??? vulnerable state??? They're very rich?? hehe >:3" but then became fond of them. The reason why he went to Sparta was to help Menelaus with Helen but fell in love himself.) and he's carved lil toys for Agamemnon's kids

He's carved lil Iphigenia toys. She likes Dolphins. He still helps sabotage the letter in some myths and even hypes up the crowd.

Even if it IS just based on Epic, "The Horse and The Infant" and "Just a Man" are HUGE turning points for Odysseus. Or even just a show of character. Like yes, "Odysseus is learning ruthlessness" but he already is ruthless. He literally says "I would trade the world to see my son and wife". AND HE STILL DOES THE DEED! HE WAS RUTHLESS SINCE THE BEGINNING! The Second song in the Musical and it already tells you about Odysseus and what he is willing to do. Is he sad and haunted? Yeah. Still did it.

And I really love that as that's Odyssey Odysseus as well! Odysseus isn't an unfeeling violent villain. He's just a man.

Also...What happens in the Odyssey is no fucking place for a child. ;~; The cyclops, the Goddesses, the monsters? Why should a lil boy be anywhere near that? How did he survive while drifting to Ogygia? Does Poseidon try to keep them together? As no one would be in the state to take care of each other together for that many days.

And in general, in the Odyssey, to me, it's such a huge thing that he literally lost EVERYONE. THAT HE IS ALL ALONE. All of the people who were with him are now dead, and there was nothing he could do. It was already fated.

It's horrible but there's something so poetic in him being the "Sole Survivor", especially after all the hell he went through.

Also yeah, I DO really hate the thought of Telemachus knowing "You took care of this baby when I needed you?". Like my OdyPen have a daughter after he returns as the whole "only one son" and that's already really hard for Telemachus to watch Odysseus be a father for her, regardless of how often and how adamantly Odysseus reassures him that Odysseus desperately wished to do the same with him.

#Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #ask #superkooku #odysseus #epic the musical

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ghostkingdoesstuff · 1 year ago

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A friendly reminder I am not to be held accountable for the things I'm about to say. Percy Jackson Season 1 FINALLY (SPOILERS BUT THAT'S THE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS)

The visceral noise I made eating popcorn as Luke said "look you didn't ask to be a half-blood" caused an earthquake in Alaska, I'm sorry I was facing northwest.

"Riposte" I'm sorry, no I'm sorry no-

Also, the background of the sword fighting scene was very pretty.

Poseidon showing up for his son!!! Letts gooooooo! THE WEIGHT OF THE OCEAN UPON YEE!!!

Right in the heel, it's gotta hurt!

Percy asked his uncle to please return his mom, wholesome family gold.

"He'll kill you." "I done to stop running from monsters." "You're gonna need all the luck you can get." The show gets why these two work. Friends before anything else.

Glory as a theme is something that I like that the show highlights more. But Grover is right. at least send an insurance email or something. A quick "on my way, please don't kill anyone"

Dropping the master bolt on some poor dudes desk, legendary.

Olympus is so fucking beutiful omg

I'm gonna cry if Luke and Percy are in the same scene as each other in this episode again. ILL DO IT! THAT'S A THREAT!

The dead silence, I'm shitting omg... yes I know what happens and?

Followed by "I didn't steal it! Neither did any of my friends" IM GONNA CRY! IM GONNA DO IT

The pin strip suit, the sky blue paisley tie, the presence, the voice, THE KING OF THE GODS PEOPLE

Lotta talk for someone so small and scary

POISIDEN GETTING BETWEEN HIS SON AND HIS BROTHER I'M GONNA THROW UP

POSIDEN AND ZEUS SPEAKING GREEK I'M GONNA PISS

THE SEA DOES NOT LIKE TO BE RESTRAINED (🎶BRING ON THE MONSTERS BRING ON THE REAL WORLD!!!🎶)

SALLY JACKSON TEACHING PERCY GREEK I'M GONNA-

"Of course we dream. why do you ask?" "Do you ever dream about mom?" ;-;

Thalia looking strudy as ever.

"Ready?" NO FUCK YOU NO

Another reminder I am not to held liable for anything I might say, you need only see how many times I've listened to "Last day of Summer" from The musical to understand how much I've thought of this moment in fictional time.

Confirmation that Luke was indeed what mattered most in the end? I'm gonna make myself cry shit-

Honestly, this Percy might be too smart for his own good. Bro's never gonna live this heartbreak down.

"You...I'm here to recruit." I- fucking- AHHHH

"OUR WAY OUT" RICK YOU BASTARD I HOPE YOU ROT IN ASPHODEL

"Stop saying "we"!" "It’s the word Zeus fears the most."

AND SHE HEARD EVERYTHING! Wasn't she supposed to be watching Clarrise? He'll, if Percy could figure it out, I'm sure Annabeth would. It's worth it to see that LOOK on Luke's face. I'm sorry. Feel the weight of your actions, man.

Miss my old friend the pit scorpion but I also like my new friend "the first scars we gave eachother"

He knows Luke won't hurt him physically, but the psychic damage hurts more and has lasting status de buffs.

"Just be a kid" that's it

"I'll find you" that's it

Promising to meet again next summer...Percy just you wait.

THE FAKE OUT OF A LIFETIME

"Grandpa" "don't call him that"

They are the ultimate mother son duo

BLUE PANCAKES!

Kinda hate that Sally didn't intentionally do a murder, or at least she has a lot more possible deniability now, but I hope she still makes a sweet sale on that sculpture!

And that's it! Fuck it's over what to do now... RE READING THE LIGHTING THEIF LIFE BLOG COMING SOON! As well I'll probably drop a summary of my thoughts on the whole season at some point soon! Happy Finally, y'all! Can't wait to see the discorse!

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo tv adaptation #pjo disney+#luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #grover underwood #thalia grace #pjo spoilers

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imakemywings · 1 month ago

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2024 Fic Roundup

Total Words Published at end of year: 103,361, which is definitely a drop from last year, although still a number I'm satisfied with. Inspiration was a bit hard to come by this year, so I'm not surprised I wrote less.

Fandoms: Tolkien with a bit of a DA flicker. Remains to be seen now that I have Veilguard in my possession if DA will experience a true resurgence.

Highest Everything (raw kudos, hits, comments):

Hits: Ransom of the Fairy Twins (1,300)

Kudos: Something Sleepless in Mirkwood (83)

Comments: Fruit of the Family Tree (43)

New Things I Tried: Not really anything I think?

Fic I Spent the Most Time On: Fruit of the Family Tree, just because it is definitely the longest and most detailed thing I wrote.

Fic I Spent the Least Time On: Probably Asphodel

Favorite Thing I Wrote: I was honestly very surprised with how much I liked Where She Wanders None Can Tell. Nimrodel and Mithrellas were not characters I ever really thought about before, but I had fun exploring them there.

Favorite Thing(s) I Read:

No Sacrifice Without Blood by everythingnumbs - While imprisoned in Nargothrond, Luthien encounters Thuringwethil.

Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Eowyn's relationship with her sister-in-law Lothiriel is complicated.

Wan Little Husks of Autofiction by clovis_unleashed - Daeron and Maglor argue about music, but not really.

Calma, Lambe, Lambe, Ore by sallysavestheday - Daeron and Maglor argue about music for real.

The Chain that Snaps by am_fae - Marvelous conclusion to this Finrod/Sauron epic.

Who Did I Suborn to Do This Piece by birrdieEdwards - The Havens at Sirion.

The Redemption of Daeron by Runedhel - Truly a masterpiece.

Writing Goals for 2023: Just keep going!

Tagging: @hobbitwrangler @jouissants @meadowlarkx @swanmaids @chaos-of-the-abyss @mithrilhearts

#fic roundup

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thisisperverse · 7 months ago

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Aand that's a wrap on our summer of 69 challenge ⛱️ Some cool facts about it:

20 fanworks

1 fanart

19 fics

20 authors/artists

4 WIPs so even more fun to come

thousands of km/miles traveled

including 4 trips to Marbella (i wonder why)

countless cocktails 🍹

so much love!

and coolest fact: 100k+ words written total! If you want to know what they were all about, check the fics and their summaries below.

Want to join the fun? Find us at discord.gg/royjamie.

Play Like A Tartt by hopefulromance, jackhowad (T)

Jamie is sick and tired of homophobia in football and decides he can do something about it

sunshine warm, moonlight soft by asphodellic (E)

If asked, Roy will insist it’s the heat that drives him back into the house and not the way the sunlight is sinking into Jamie’s stupid floppy hair and glistening off his sweat slicked muscles. He’s Roy fucking Kent, and he’s never run away from a hot person in his life. If he was in his prime, he would already have Jamie bent in half in his bed upstairs, one hand over his mouth while he takes him apart, and that would be that.

Are We There Yet? by ABubblingCandle (G)

Train strikes derail Jamie's summer plans so he has to find another way to travel the length of the country. Good thing he has a coach that loves him so much and will drop everything to drive him on a 4 hour each way round trip ... what do you mean Roy said no?

swelter/shake by farewllyouth (E)

Roy approaches with a glass in each hand, slips off his slides and lowers himself to the edge of the pool. His feet dangle in the cool water as Jamie takes his drink, fingertips brushing. They don’t speak, sipping their drinks under the canopy stretched over the pool. Jamie finishes first, because Roy gave him a straw and too much ice, and his patience is in shorter supply. The sound of the distant waves off the beach reach them even through the trees surrounding the property. Roy leans back on his hands and takes a deep breath, head tilted back so he can get a good lungful of humid, salty sea air. “So you getting in, or what?”

be my summer boyfriend by BestDeadFriendsForever (E)

It’d been nine days since Roy landed in Marbella and it was somewhere around eleven when he limped out of his bedroom for a glass of water, his mouth cottony and head aching slightly, to see Jamie fucking Tartt standing in the middle of the kitchen in an unbuttoned linen shirt and one of the tiniest pair of swim shorts that Roy had ever seen. He had on a pair of sunnies despite being inside- though the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entire back wall lessened the prickishness a little- and his hair was falling across his forehead in a soft wave. “The fuck’re you doing here?” Roy demanded, feeling awkward at only being in a pair of socks and his boxer-briefs.

Questionable Summer Fashion Choices by ABubblingCandle (G)

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Roy didn’t even know what to think about what he had just walked in on. He had existed in football changing rooms are all long as he could remember and so had stumbled upon everything you could ever think of stumbling upon in a changing room. But this complete and utter affront to his sensibilities was something brand new and a full different tier of stupid. “Oh, hey Roy,” Keeley chirped up from where she was reclined in the corner on her phone. “What the fuck is he wearing?” Roy turned to Keeley to try and get an answer through the giggles of the assembled greyhounds. They were only buckets of popcorn away from this being a real show. “Um it’s called a shirt Roy,” Jamie scoffed, rolling his eyes as he spun round.

A Camping Trip with Phoebe by garlic_salt_is_superior (G)

Roy and Jamie take Phoebe on a camping trip during the off-season

Will You Be My Plus One (Now and Forever?) by Rayvynheart (T)

Five plus weddings over the course of his barely 12 weeks off? He honestly didn’t even know he knew that many single people. This does present an issue, though. There’s no way Jamie Tartt can be seen at a wedding without a plus one. He’s got a reputation to maintain, after all. Not to mention that now that he’s barely drinking, trying to get through a whole wedding and reception without someone there to help distract him sounds like torture. How’s he supposed to find dates to every single one? Hmmmm I wonder how Jamie Tartt is going to solve this dilemma???

Family Beach Day by luvsbitca (G)

“Papa,” Georgina said. “Why is Daddy in your phone as Grandad?” “We never should have taught you to read.” Gee giggled. “You’re so silly.” Just fun, simple, sweet family day at the beach fluff.

Good Night, Sleep Tight by maskedwolves (E)

“What’re you doing?” Jamie asks as he complies with Roy’s silent command and hoists himself up onto the quartz countertop. Roy takes in Jamie’s tired, naked form - eye lids only half open, shoulders slightly slumped, soft cock as sleepy as the rest of him –and wonders how this perfect human chose him to spend his life with. “Getting my tired husband washed up for bed.” “I can get myself ready,” Jamie says with a sleepy smile, amused at Roy taking care of him like this. “Yes, but you don’t have to.”

Like Sand At The Beach by luvsbitca (E)

Jamie took his chance, why not, why shouldn’t it be him, why couldn’t it be him. Why couldn’t he be the person Roy wanted? He caught the corner of Roy’s mouth; his lips dry against Roy’s. he pressed there for a just a moment or two but then pulled away, catching Roy’s eyes when they opened again. Jamie realised a beat later that Roy had closed his eyes…Jamie had kissed him, and the other man had closed his eyes, his heart started thumping. He licked at his bottom lip and then pressed forward and leaned in again, catching Roy’s bottom lip. Jamie and Roy have sex in Marbella...that is all. They are in love too!

wonderstruck (blushing all the way home) by bizarrebedtimestories (E)

There's a small velvet box sitting on the table where his breakfast should be. Behind it, there's a man, familiar and very beautiful, smiling shyly at him. Roy doesn't have a clue what's going on. "Yes?" "This—" The man nudges the box forward with a few of his fingers. "—is for you." Roy pulls it towards him slowly, like someone preparing to diffuse a bomb. He hesitates, glancing up at the stranger once more before he tells himself to get over it, you fucking ninny! Roy opens the box. "Is this a fucking engagement ring?" Or the selkie!Jamie fic nobody asked for.

cruel summer (what doesn't kill me makes me want you more) by valdomarx (E)

Roy's knee is fucked, he's been dumped, and he's spending an awful lot of time on the couch. So he's doing great. It's just unfortunate that he can't turn on his TV without seeing Jamie fucking Tartt and his stupid reality show. And it's even more unfortunate that Jamie has his phone number. And for some reason, he keeps messaging him.

a body at rest by mixtapestar (E)

Roy shows Jamie how to relax on holiday.

only wanna be the one that i call baby by howdyrowdypartner (T)

“There’s a lot coming up,” Roy says, instead of all that. “With the manager position, and shit. I need some time to think about,” he gestures vaguely between them, “this.” Jamie nods, slowly, lips pursed together. “Alright,” he says again. Roy really hates that fucking word. “You ought to take a trip or something, Coach,” Jamie says, flopping back down onto the pillows, making no move to leave Roy’s bed despite the whole needing space thing. “Take a holiday before the season starts. Get your head on straight.” That - isn’t the worst idea Jamie’s ever had, really. --- Or, the seven days in which Roy loses his fucking mind, thanks to Jamie.

a carcass of a man, i belong inside his skin by NineWesternStars (M)

When he arrived, kicking up dust in his dark wine Aston, Jamie’s first thought was, this is what football’s greatest left for? He was decidedly unimpressed and told Roy as much, with one foot out of his luxury sports car and poised to drop into a forgotten pile of cowshit. Roy had given him a look of such loathing when Jamie used the bottom step of the farmhouse to scrape off his trainer. (Jamie is sent to Roy's farm for the summer, in hopes of becoming a better player.)

the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you by nightcabret (T)

“Tartt! I know you’re in there and we’re going to be fucking late-” Roy cuts off right as Jamie swings open the door. He looks pissed, but Jamie watches as he takes him in, his eyes widening and mouth gaping in a way that would be downright comical if Jamie wasn’t currently channeling most of his focus into standing up straight. “Woah. You look like shit.” “That’s fucking rude.” Jamie scoffs, right as he loses the fight against keeping his balance and sways forward.

keep a place for me by soofyahn (E)

Jamie glances at his blood-stained hoodie and frowns. At least the last time he confessed his love, he was wearing a suit. Turns out how they're dressed doesn’t matter much, in the end. The two of 'em might as well be wearing shirts that say ‘I’m with stupid’. Five accidental dates, or: four times Jamie makes an effort to dress for the occasion, and one time he doesn’t put nearly enough thought into what he wears.

#tip challenges #tip discord #royjamie #roy x jamie #jamie tartt #roy kent #writing challenge #fic rec

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impossibleprincess35 · 5 months ago

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Asphodel | ch 47

[Excerpt:]

The emdee unit began to speed about the medical bay, preparing syringes and beginning protocols that he didn’t understand, except to see that it was clearly emergent.

He glanced up to the data screen at her bedside and tried to make sense of the information presented, but most of it was foreign to him as he didn’t spend enough time humoring the Halls of Healing to speak the language of the healers and medics.

The droid turned to him and announced, “Patient is unconscious due to severe shock and internal damage. The small intestine has been punctured and needs surgical repair. She must be sedated and repair must begin right away.”

Giving the emdee a hopeless look, Obi-Wan asked in alarm, “Are you equipped to perform such a surgery? Is this ship suitable for a procedure of this magnitude?”

“She is critical,” it replied matter-of-factly. “There is no other option.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth went dry and he stumbled over his words as panic washed over him. “Ca- can’t, can’t she go in the bacta tank?”

The droid approached and tried to nudge him out of the way. “Once the puncture is repaired, if she survives, the bacta tank is a suitable solution-”

His hand tightened around Satine’s and he blinked back tears as he squeaked, “If she survives?”

“You will need to leave the medical bay,” the droid said before it paused and did a retinal scan to confirm his identity and then continued, “Master Jedi. This room will be sealed off to maintain a sterile environment.”

Chapter 47 is up.

WOO. I rewrote this chapter so many times. It's like finishing a virtual marathon. It's quiet. There's no screaming crowd. But I'm gonna hobble around the rest of the day and puff out my chest feelin' real proud of finally finishing this one.

#asphodel #obi wan x satine #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #duchess satine #fanfic #sw fanfic

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dottielovegood · 2 years ago

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ASPHODEL

Elriel, Hogwarts AU Prompt: Shy glances and restricted touches (first day of @elriel-month) Summary: Elain helps Azriel in the greenhouse and teaches him about muggle mythology. Warnings: None Word count: 5774 Read here on AO3

Maybe it was a bit cliché that Elain, a Hufflepuff, spent most of her time in the greenhouse, but she really didn’t care. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, herbology had been her favorite subject. She hadn’t known much about plants before getting that letter at age eleven, but it hadn’t taken long before she realized that she had a knack for growing things. Growing up, Elain had always been the sweet sister. Perhaps it was because she was the middle child, but she had lived to make her mother happy and that required dressing up in the most ridiculous dresses and learning everything about how to behave ladylike. She was expected to be pretty and never make a fuss since her parents had their hands full with her sisters, Feyre and Nesta. She loved her sisters dearly, but they were wild souls that no one could ever contain. Elain, on the other hand, just wanted to make life easier for everyone around her. People pleaser, Nesta had called her once, and yes, maybe she was. Or at least, she had been. But that all seemed to change when she came to Hogwarts. Suddenly, she was able to be whoever she wanted to be. She rarely spent time with her sisters since they were in different houses and Elain quickly realized that she had no idea who she was when nobody was there to control her every move.

Elain had asked herself sometimes if liking herbology was an act of defiance. Her mother had always told her that good girls didn’t play in the dirt and maybe that’s why it felt so good to get her hands dirty? There was certainly something therapeutic about seeing something beautiful grow out of the soil; seeing your hard labour turn into something new and wondrous. Of course, being a witch in itself was an act of defiance since both of her parents were muggles. She had come to learn that it was very rare that two muggles would give birth to three witches and her mother had never been able to let it go. She hated them for what they were and Elain was quite certain that her feelings stemmed from jealousy. They were able to lead a life she could never dream of and when Feyre, her younger sister, had received a Hogwarts letter, their mother’s hope for a normal child disappeared. Sometimes, Elain thought that it might have been a kindness sent from the gods that her mother died during Feyre’s first year. Her relationship with her mother had been strenuous and even though she still sometimes missed her mother, she didn’t like the control and the abuse she had endured. As a child, she hadn’t questioned it but as she grew up, she realized their her mother hadn’t been a kind woman.

Hogwarts had been her salvation. She could remember how scared and nervous she had been on her first day here, but she also could remember a feeling of finally coming home. Of finally having someplace she belonged. She immediately threw herself into her schoolwork, trying to learn everything she could about the magical world she now was a part of. Apart from herbology, she also realized that she was very good at divination, which her sisters sometimes made fun of her for. “It’s not a real subject, Elain,” Nesta, who was one year older, told her when Elain announced that she wanted to proceed to NEWT level in divination after receiving an outstanding on her OWLs. “Neither is Quidditch but that’s all you seem to care about,” Elain had retorted. Elain didn’t dare add that apart from Slytherin winning the Quidditch cup, Nesta seemed to only care about a certain Beater on the Gryffindor team. If anyone even suggested that Nesta didn’t hate Cassian, she would throw a fit. “He’s a dimwit. He’s taken one too many bludgers to the head,” she would tell Elain when she dared to mention his name in Nesta’s presence. And yet, Elain hadn’t been a bit surprised when she found Cassian in Nesta’s room during the summer holiday before returning to Hogwarts for her sixth year. Elain had seen it written in the stars, after all. And in the tea leaves during one of Professor Trelawny’s classes.

Elain was lost in thoughts of her family when she felt the air in the greenhouse shift. It was as if the shadows were watching her. A shiver ran down her spine. It was dark and she was all alone. The only light came from the small lantern she had placed on the table next to her so she could see while she worked on her plants. She had never been afraid of the dark, but right now she was feeling as if someone was watching her. Slowly, she reached for a pair of scissors and turned around.

At first, she saw nothing, but then - movement.

She gasped when someone stepped out from the shadows. With her heart beating furiously, she raised the scissors. The dark figure stepped closer, the light from the lantern not yet illuminating his face.

“I come in peace.” He held up his hands in front of him as if to show her that he was unarmed. She recognized that voice. She would recognize it anywhere, at any time. She had dreamt of it. Had yearned for it. Had listened when it answered the professors' questions during class and had wondered what it would sound like while whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She really shouldn’t think about such things - she had never even spoken to him. Yet there was something in her that felt drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain. She knew in an instant that the person standing there in the shadows hadn’t come to harm her. She lowered the scissors and pressed a hand over her heart.

“Merlin’s beard. You gave me a fright,” she said.

“I tend to have that effect on people.” His voice was smooth, like shadows and velvet.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” she said, her heart still beating a little too fast.

He took one more step toward her, finally stepping into the light. Azriel. His dark hair was messy, just like it always was. As if he was unable to tame it. Elain still remembered seeing him on her first day at Hogwarts. She had sat down on that stool in front of the entire school, waiting for the headmistress to put the sorting hat on her. She had looked out at the crowd to find Nesta at the Slytherin table, but instead, her eyes were drawn to a dark-haired Ravenclaw. His hair had been messy back then too, and for some reason, she hadn’t been able to look away. She didn’t know if her memory was playing tricks on her but she was quite certain that he held her gaze until the hat shouted “Hufflepuff!” and sealing her fate.

It had been over six years since that day but Elain still had a crush on Azriel. It was silly, really. She had never had the courage to talk to him. He seemed so cool, so out of her league. He was the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, he was a prefect and he was the top student in all his classes. He was also ridiculously good-looking and mysterious, which only added to his charm. Last year, someone even started a rumour saying that Azriel was a vampire. It was absurd, of course, but looking at him now when he stood in front of her in the darkness, she couldn’t help but think that it would be quite fitting if he was a vampire. He certainly looked like a creature of the night. A very beautiful creature, she thought to herself. Merlin, she was pathetic.

“In all honesty, I didn’t think anyone would be down here this close to curfew,” he said and dropped his hands to his sides. He pointed at the scissors in her hands, “Especially not someone with a weapon. Maybe I should be frightened of you?” he teased.

Elain quickly put the scissors down on the table behind her. “I’m–I’m sorry,” she said quickly, feeling all the nervousness she usually felt around him returning to her as her heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm.

He shook his head, “I’m just teasing. I really didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I can leave if you want.”

Elain felt foolish. This was the first time she had ever spoken a word to him and she had threatened him with a pair of scissors. Not the best first impression…

“No, you can stay,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “I was just finishing up here anyway.”

She wanted to ask him why he was there. She had been given a key by Professor Longbottom so she could prepare for her exams and to her knowledge, no one else had a key. And no one else was nerdy enough to spend a Friday evening in the greenhouse.

“Thank you,” he smiled at her and she was quite certain that she might die on the spot. She suddenly had no idea what to do with her hands. What did normal people do with their hands?

“What are you working on?” he asked and turned his head to see the potted plant behind her.

“Sneezewort,” she answered and felt herself blush. She suddenly wished she had been working on a more interesting plant. “I’m learning how to cultivate them.” She shouldn’t have added that. It was quite obvious what she was doing, but she couldn’t stop herself. She always babbled when nervous. “We need quite a few since they’re a vital part of many potions and with the NEWTs coming up for the seventh years…” she trailed off, realizing that she was, indeed, babbling. “It’s not that interesting.”

His eyes were still focused on her, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a gentle smile. The attention made her even more nervous. She hoped he didn’t notice her blush. Maybe the greenhouse was dark enough to hide her red cheeks?

“And Professor Longbottom has his students growing them for him? I hope he’s paying you, especially if you have to work on them this late on a Friday night.”

Before Elain could stop herself, she said, “Oh, I had nothing better to do. And I wanted to learn more, so I asked if I could help.”

Shit, he was going to think that she was utterly pathetic now. Nothing better to do? She might as well have the words “lonely, loser, nerd,” stamped on her forehead.

She was surprised when he chuckled. “I know the feeling. I usually spend most of my nights in the library.”

Somehow, Elain had trouble believing that. She had seen the way girls looked at him. She was certain that he wouldn’t have to spend a single night alone if he didn’t want to. But then again, what did she know? She didn’t know him and therefore had no idea about his preferences on how to spend a Friday night.

“So, what brought you down here? We have no books, I’m afraid,” Elain said, feeling a bit bolder now that she knew that he too spent his evenings studying. Perhaps that shouldn’t come as a surprise? He was a Ravenclaw, after all…

Azriel scratches his neck and looked around the humid greenhouse. “I needed some powdered root of asphodel but there was none in potions classroom. I thought that maybe I could find some here.”

Elain narrowed her eyes at him, knowing fully well what kind of potions one could make with that ingredient. “And why do you need powdered root of asphodel in the middle of the night?”

He raised an eyebrow as if surprised by her question. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, trying to come off as more confident than she felt. “Just making sure you’re not doing something illegal.”

“Would you report me if I was?” there was that teasing tone of his again. She had never heard him speak like that before and she had no idea why she felt so warm when he did.

“Maybe,” was all she managed to say. In all honesty, she probably wouldn’t. She was many things, but she wasn’t a snitch. And she couldn’t imagine Azriel actually wanting to hurt someone.

“Well, I’ll have you know that I just need it for my studies. I’m trying to brew every single potion on the curriculum a few times before the NEWTs and I only have one more potion left. The draught of living death.”

“And you couldn’t wait to get this one ingredient in the morning?”

“Where would be the fun in that? Also, I do my best work after dark.”

Maybe he was a vampire after all? If he was, would she let him bite her?

Elain wanted to slap herself for even thinking such things. And she wanted to slap herself even more when she realized that yes, she would definitely let him bite her.

Elain let out a shaky breath. “Well, we have some roots that have been left out to dry, but they haven’t been made into a powder yet.”

“Shit,” he swore. “Maybe I could find a book in the library on how to properly prepare them…” he seemed to be speaking to himself.

“I thought you needed the ingredient urgently?”

“I do.”

“And yet you have time to read a book, but you don’t have the time to wait until morning to ask Professor Longbottom for the roots?”

He shrugged. “I’m a fast reader.”

Elain nodded, carefully contemplating her next move. She really didn’t want him to go now that they were finally talking. She had no idea if he was as interesting as she thought he was, but this seemed like the perfect time to find out. And maybe her only time. He might turn out to be a complete buffoon, but at least she’d know, and then she could get over her crush. And if he turned out to be even half as charming as she imagined… well, there was only one way to find out.

“I could teach you how to do it. I mean, only if you want me to. I could also give you a book if you’d rather…”

“You know how to do it?”

“Yes. I’ve helped prepare the ingredients for potions since my third year.”

He looked surprised. “Well, that would be really helpful actually. Thank you.”

She felt as surprised as he looked at those words. She hadn’t really thought that he would take her up on that offer, and now she had to prove herself. Her palms started to sweat.

“Well, I just have to get a few things.” She picked up the potted plant she had been working on. When she turned back to him, he was reaching for the plant. “Let me,” he offered and took the pot from her hands. “Over there?” he asked and nodded to where a few other pots with Sneezewort stood lined up on a table.

She nodded, too stunned to speak. The fact that he was helpful only made her crush even harder on the handsome Ravenclaw.

Get yourself together, she admonished herself as she made her way over to the back of the greenhouse where they kept a drying rack for roots, leaves and various flowers. She put a few roots in a big mortar and carried it to the workbench. Azriel walked up beside her and moved the lantern so they both could see better.

He was so close she could smell him. His scent was like night-chilled mist and cedar and she had no idea how someone could smell so good. She knew that if she wasn’t careful, she could probably get drunk on his scent.

He stood so close, his arm brushing hers. She had never been this close to a boy before and she had no idea what to do with herself and all of the emotions currently running through her body.

“So, how do we do this?” he asked, his voice effectively bringing her mind back to the task at hand.

She pushed the mortar toward him and handed him the pestle. His fingers brushed hers when he took it and it felt as if electricity passed between them. He quickly drew his hand back.

“You– well, first you need to break the roots into smaller pieces.”

Azriel followed her instructions, pushing the pestle down on the roots until they started to break.

“And now, you have to move your hand in a clockwise motion. You need to be firm, but not too rough. You don’t want the powder to be too fine.”

“Like this?” Azriel grabbed the side of the mortar with one hand while moving his other just like she told him.

“A bit softer…” Without thinking, she reached over and put one hand over his. He tensed and she could almost feel the way his eyes focused on her pale hand covering his scarred one. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but she had noticed his hands before. Noticed the beauty that lay beyond the scars. His scars reminded her of ivy, for some reason. She had always found ivy beautiful. Even if it was an intrusive plant, she couldn’t help but marvel every time she saw a house or a tree covered in the green leaves. No matter how boring and mundane something was, ivy seemed to make it more magical. Beautiful, even. Just like Azriel’s hands. They told a story, and even if that story was filled with pain, they were proof that he had lived. That he had endured.

They were truly beautiful.

When she realized that she had let her hand linger on his, she removed it quickly and let it drop to her side. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be.” His voice was lower, too. She wished she could know what he was thinking. Something told her that he really didn’t need help to ground up some roots. He was a Ravenclaw, and she knew that he had received perfect marks in all his courses. Surely, he knew how to do this.

She dared to look up at him and found that he was already watching her. She felt herself blush again and had to look away.

“Just– just keep going, but be more gentle,” she said and motioned for him to continue.

He did as he was told. “I’m always gentle.” She could hear the smile in his voice but she didn’t dare look at him again. Instead, she just kept her eyes focused on his hands and the mortar.

“I’ve seen you play Quidditch,” she told him. “I know that’s a lie.” He was certainly not gentle on the field. He had made Nesta eat dirt more than once, which is why Nesta thought of him as her nemesis. He was the only seeker that was better than her, which annoyed her to no end.

“You’ve seen me play?”

Of course, she had seen him play. She didn’t care much for sports, but the way he played… It was as if he had been born to fly. Like the broom was part of him. He moved so effortlessly. He almost made it seem like an art form. “Of course,” she began but stopped herself. She couldn’t very well tell him that she only watched the games because of him. “Nesta, my sister. She’s in…”

“Slytherin, I know. She’s the reason why I haven’t seen Cassian in weeks. She’s a great player though, I’ll give her that.”

Not as good as you, Elain thought.

Silence fell between them once more and Elain was surprised to find that it didn’t feel awkward. Usually when conversation stalled, she felt the need to somehow keep the conversation going. But with Azriel, silence felt almost natural. Comfortable.

“What now?” he asked when the roots had turned into a powder. “Is this enough?”

“Almost,” Elain walked over to the rows of asphodel they had planted at the beginning of the year. She picked a few petals from one of the flowers and walked back to Azriel. She dropped three petals into the mortar.

“There is no mention of it in any book, but I have found that if you put a small part of the flower with the roots, the powder will be more potent.”

She felt him watching her and dared to glance up at him again. There was a gentle smile on his lips and his eyes were so kind. She wanted to drown in them. “I didn’t know that,” he said, his voice curious. “Then again, I stopped taking herbology last year. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

Elain returned his smile but said nothing. She had no idea how to respond to that. She didn’t understand how anyone could find herbology boring or unnecessary.

“How lucky that I found an expert on the topic,” Azriel continued.

“I wouldn’t call myself an expert,” she said under her breath.

“I think you’re selling yourself short, then.”

She felt herself grow warm from the compliment. She knew that she was good at herbology, but hearing it from him was different than hearing it from classmates or her professor. She was definitely not getting over her crush anytime soon if he continued being so kind to her.

She cleared her throat. “Now you need to ground the flowers into the powder,” she pointed at the white petals. They were such a stark contrast to the dark powder of the roots. “Gently,” she added.

“Gently,” he repeated and followed her instructions. She watched the white petals turn darker with each press of the pestle and it reminded her of a story she had read in a book back home.

“Did you know that even in muggle mythology, asphodel has been associated with death since it was believed to grow in the underworld?”

“I did not know that, no.” The curious tone in his voice made her want to continue.

“Well, there is this story in Greek mythology, about Hades and Persephone–”

“Hades,” Azriel interrupted. “He was the god of the underworld, right?”

“Yes, exactly. According to the myths, he kidnapped Persephone and forced her to be his bride. However, some say that Persephone later fell in love with Hades and chose to stay with him - which obviously makes the story more romantic.”

Azriel hummed. “The god of the underworld and his bride of spring. Death and rebirth,” he said. “It’s quite poetic.”

She smiled at him. “It really is.” She had always loved the story of Persephone and Hades. As a child, she used to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and read that story over and over again. “So, in Greek mythology, there were three layers of the underworld. If you were a bad person, you would go to Tartarus after death. If you ended up there, you were doomed to suffer for an eternity. Heroes went to Elysium. But since most people weren’t bad enough to go to Tartarus, nor good enough to end up in Elysium, most mortals went to the Asphodel Fields when they died. They would forget their previous lives and live in eternal mindlessness.”

“Eternal mindlessness? I’m not sure that’s better than torture,” Azriel muttered.

Elain laughed. “Spoken like a true Ravenclaw.”

“I’m guessing you would prefer the Asphodel meadows?”

Elain laughed. “Yes, I would rather spend eternity in a field of Asphodel than in hell being tortured.”

“Fair enough.”

“The Asphodel later became a symbol for Persephone. It is a flower that grows in spring and many muggle artists over the years depicted her wearing a garland of asphodel – a sign of life even in death,” she continued. “I loved reading about this as a child and the more I learned about magic, the more I thought that muggle mythology might be rooted in magic. I mean, for centuries, we have known what kind of powers asphodel holds and what it can be used for. Maybe some of the old Greeks were actually wizards, and the myths were just a way to explain the inexplicable to muggles?”

Azriel hummed again, his motions coming to a halt. The powder in the mortar had turned gray. Elain felt self-conscious all of a sudden. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him all of that. He didn’t come here to get a lecture on Greek mythology.

“They should have taught us more about mythology in muggle studies. This is definitely more interesting than learning about phones and the internet,” Azriel said, and even though it made her feel a bit better, she still felt foolish for rambling on and on about death and the afterlife like that. Most people weren’t as interested in myths as plants as she was.

“I’m sorry. I tend to ramble when I’m nervous,” she said under her breath.

There was a beat of silence again and she could have sworn she felt the shadows move around them.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Yes,” she answered without thinking and winced as soon as the word left her mouth. She did not intend to admit that.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said. There was a sincere gentleness to his voice now which made her feel even more foolish.

“Oh, no,” she added quickly. “I mean, many things make me nervous. My mother always said that I have a nervous soul.” She added that last part in an effort to lighten the mood but she was quite certain she was unsuccessful.

But then Azriel spoke. “Well, I happen to love it when people talk about things they're passionate about, so please, continue.”

She didn’t know if he only said it to make her feel better, but the words settled somewhere inside of her, making her feel at ease again. She was grateful for his kindness.

“I think I told you everything I know about asphodel in Greek mythology.”

She looked at him again and this time, she didn’t feel the need to look away when he met her gaze. “Will there be a quiz?” he asked and gave her a playful smirk.

“Maybe.”

“When?”

She had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling. “When you least expect it.”

“I look forward to it.”

How very Ravenclaw of him…

Elain reached into her apron and produced an empty vial. “You can put the powder in here.”

He took the vial from her and this time he let his fingers linger on hers for just a second too long to be an accident.

“So we’re done?”

“It’s perfect,” Elain told him. “But be careful with it. Remember that it’s stronger, so you might need to use a bit less than the recipe calls for.”

He nodded and pulled out a knife from beneath his cloak. With the edge of his knife, he scraped up the powder and carefully put it in the small vial.

Elain stared at the dark blade. “And here you were telling me that you should be scared of my scissors when you’re the one carrying a knife.”

A small laugh escaped him. “Seeing that every single person in this school has a wand, I would say that we’re all carrying weapons of some sort. Any object can be a weapon, as long as you know how to wield it. Even a pair of scissors. Or a fork.”

“A fork?” Elain laughed.

“Yes,” Azriel watched her with a serious expression on his face. “I once saw a man stab another man right through his hand with a fork. One moment, it was just a utensil, and the next – a weapon.”

“Maybe I should start carrying a fork with me? You know, for protection,” she teased.

“One can never be too careful.” Azriel held up the vial and inspected its content. “Thank you for this. It will be invaluable.”

“I’m just glad I could help” And I’m also very glad I got to spend time with you.

Azriel put the vial in his pocket. “I’m very glad you were here. It’s known to be quite difficult to get into the greenhouse after dark.” He looked at her in challenge – as if asking how she had been able to get in.

She pulled out the key she kept in a chain around her neck and raised her chin. “Not if you have a key.”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up. “Where did you get that?”

“Professor Longbottom gave it to me.”

A feline grin spread across his face. “Teacher’s pet.”

Elain laughed. Damn him - why did he have to be kind and polite and funny. It’s not like her crush wasn’t bad enough before. “At least I’m not the headmistress’ pet.”

He rolled his eyes. “She only likes me because I’m good at Quidditch. We all know that McGonagall is a huge Quidditch nerd.”

“Did you just call the headmistress a nerd?”

“Of course not,” he said and shook his head. “What would ever give you such ideas?”

Still smiling, Elain whispered, “Your secret is safe with me.”

He laughed again and Elain wished she could bottle that sound. She had only ever seen him look serious – she had almost imagined that he was incapable of laughter. But here he was - joking and laughing with her. She didn’t know what to think of it.

Azriel looked up. Moonlight was streaming through the windows now. It was late.

Too late.

Shit, they had stayed out after curfew. Elain felt a slight jolt of panic at the thought. She had never broken a rule before. They had to get back before they were caught out here. Professor Longbottom had made it very clear that no one was to know that he had given her a key to the greenhouse.

As if he could read her mind, Azriel said, “It’s late. I guess we should get back,” but he made no move to leave. They just stood there, watching each other. She had no idea what to say, she just knew that she wanted to stay here with him just a little bit longer.

“Thank you for teaching me everything there is to know about asphodel, and then some. If I don’t get an outstanding in potions, I’m blaming you.”

“Hey, I only gave you the ingredient. If you don’t know how to use it, it’s not my fault.”

“Oh, I know how to use it.” She was used to seeing his cocky confidence on the Quidditch field, but up close, it was even more attractive.

“Again, I’m sorry for the lecture about muggle mythology,” she said and picked up her cloak from where she had left it on the floor. She threw it over her shoulders just to have something to do with her hands. He was still looking at her and the attention felt too much all of a sudden.

“Don’t be sorry. As a Ravenclaw, I’m usually the one giving lectures and helping people with homework. It felt a bit odd being the one needing help.”

“You could help me write my essay for Care of Magical Creatures if that will make you feel better,” she joked.

She was surprised when he didn’t turn her down right away. She had meant it as a joke, but he sounded sincere when he asked, “What’s it about?”

She felt a giant smile form on her lips at the question. As a Ravenclaw, he was going to hate the essay topic she had chosen. “Crumple-Horned Snorkacks - are they real?”

He snorted, “Everyone knows that Xenophilius Lovegood made them up. Not even his own daughter could find them and she looked for years.”

Elain was quite certain that crumple-horned snorkacks didn’t exist, but he didn’t have to know that. “Just because they cannot be seen, doesn’t mean that they don’t exist.”

He hummed as if he was actually considering that as a valid argument. “You know what, meet me in the library tomorrow after class and we’ll see who’s right.”

“Are we going to hunt for crumple-horned snorkacks in the library?” she laughed.

“Try saying crumple-horned snorkack five times fast,” Azriel said, which made her laugh even harder.

“I’d rather not. Maybe that’s how you make them appear? I couldn’t risk summoning one in the greenhouse. Professor Longbottom would surely take back the key if I did.”

He laughed. “Let’s try it tomorrow then. But if it works, you’ll have to explain yourself to the poor librarian.”

“Deal.” Elain had to pinch her arm underneath her cloak just to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Did Azriel just ask her to spend time with him tomorrow? This was like all of her dreams coming true.

Azriel reached for the lantern. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the castle.”

When Elain had locked the door to the greenhouse, she turned around and found Azriel holding his arm out for her. “It can be a bit difficult to walk over the grounds in the dark,” he explained. She had never once found it difficult, but she was not about to pass up an opportunity to touch him. She rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and let him lead her up to the castle. When they were safely inside, she took a deep breath before letting go. Once again, his scent filled her and made her feel all warm inside. She wondered what she smelled like to him – probably dirt and sweat after spending a few hours in the greenhouse. She winced at the thought. She was definitely having a shower before meeting him in the library tomorrow.

Azriel blew out the candle and handed the lantern back to Elain. “Don’t get caught,” he whispered and took a step towards the stairs. He patted the pocket where he kept the vial of powdered root of asphodel. “Thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow, Elain.”

“See you tomorrow, Azriel.”

Elain walked on clouds all the way to the Hufflepuff common room. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that she was under the influence of Felix Felicis this evening. Not only did she finally get to talk to Azriel, but she also managed to get back to her dormitory without being seen.

As she climbed into bed, she thought back to his last words to her. “See you tomorrow, Elain.”

It was odd, Elain thought. She had never told him her name.

Elain fell asleep with a smile on her lips and dreamt of nigh-chilled mist and asphodel meadows.

#elriel #elriel fanfic #elain archeron #elain x azriel #elriel month 2023 #my writing #elriel fanfiction #elrielmonth #elrielmonth23

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fandomdaydreamer · 11 months ago

Text

Of a Sun and Flower

Pt. 2 You Fit Me

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Summary: Conflict induces a positive development when Nini meets the right person at the right time.

Warnings: alcohol, drug use, a psychoanalysis by someone who is not in any kind of medical field (me), symptoms of anxiety and depression, mentions of past abuse and overdose, domestic fights (with resolution, phew)

Notes: Well well well, if it isn't my late ass. Sorry, is all I can say. Life gets in the way and this chapter was fkn hard to write. Actually, I'm working on making Book 1 a real novel now, might be a real published author. Wheee

Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist -here-

Length: 8.8k

You Fit Me

The floor was littered with old chewing gum and spilt, sticky puddles of alcohol when I lowered my gaze at my mechanically piloted feet. It was hot, too hot underneath my wig, too hot between these strange bodies. With nothing but numbness in my mind, I made my hips sway to the rhythm of the heavy beat, felt the base resonate in my chest and alter my perception as my nostrils filled with the scent of people's sweat, cheap liquor and the stale dampness of the fog machines.

My eyes wandered into the dark corners of the club, where hidden figures were locked in a passionate kiss or lived out their high with their mouths wide open as they gazed into the flickering lights. They were but quick illuminations of limbs and faces, pale picture frames of colourful people dancing to a heavy electronic beat. A hypnotic voice was singing and people upon people danced to it like they were in a trance. The air was thick and condensation threatened to drip from the ceiling. It was easy to be sucked into their midst, give in to the alluring promise of forgetful hedonism and just float into the river Styx. Float into another dimension while fate would handpick the gluttons who would descend into the third circle of hell.

What would Pedro say if he saw me like this? Not having fun and denying myself any peace. Was I pretending to push myself into a nihilist universe to chase fatalism and toxicity? A blind person would have been able to see it.

Maybe I wasn't drunk enough to stop my mind from constantly wandering back home and wane between regret and anger. However, I was intoxicated enough to tilt my head into the sticky air, close my eyes and remain in the eternal Asphodel meadows for a little while longer. I felt so alone yet free of all that I knew. An anonymous, ordinary soul drifting through the night.

My state in limbo felt complete until a slimy touch seized my hip and I was promptly forced to take a step away. "No!" My protest fell on deaf ears.

"C'mon, baby. You gotta try this!" A guy in a gay club of all places forced a shot on me. He waved a friend over who brought more glasses that were filled with some kind of dark liquid.

I batted his wandering hands away and yelled at him to leave me alone.

"Fucking fa-." I could read the slur from his lips before he took another leering step towards me. How easily his words shattered against the heavy armour I had braced my soul with.

"She said no, dickface! Fuck off!" A woman with rhinestone eyebrows stepped in. Her shrill voice was loud against the music and she shoved him away. She flipped the man off and cackled at the range of slurs he threw back at us. "You okay?" My saviour hollered in my direction once he'd left us alone on the dance floor.

"Yeah, thank you!" I yelled back. I had seen and gone through worse things. Infinitely worse. "I'm sorry-" I gestured aimlessly when everything became too much anyway. In an attempt to escape, I made my way through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

I had no clue how much time I spent trying to sober up inside the stall that was plastered with graffiti and scribbles. A stick figure lay horizontal with x's crossed over instead of their eyes and memories of last summer flashed through my mind. Overdosed eyes had glazed over into a blur and I recalled how scary it had been to not be able to move my body as I nearly choked on foam and vomit. In a hazy fever dream, Pedro had found me just in time and in the worst way possible. How terrified he'd been. How stupid I felt about the way I behaved again.

In my overwhelmed state, I kept ignoring my phone as it buzzed for the millionth time this night. Pedro's ID blinked up again, the pet name I gave him mocked me along with all the hearts we'd sent back and forth in our recent past. Such a stark contrast to his currently unanswered texts. I wasn't tone-deaf to their urgency.

01:34 - Baby, I just need to know if you're ok, then I'll let you do your thing. Promise

Can you please pick up?

02:04 - Where are you? I can come and pick you up, wherever you are. I'm not mad at you

02:11 - Please just tell me you're safe

02:50 - Leonie, this has to stop! You've made your point ok?

03:00 - I swear tfg, the least you could do is answer! You care at all??

03:01 - *(Angel deleted this message)*

03:02 - Pick up the fucking phone.

The last text, I imagined he had written before pulling his hair out in sheer frustration. A full stop. Yikes.

"Fuck." I whispered to myself.

Inside the filthy stall, I closed my hands over my eyes and slumped over with my elbows resting on my knees. I tried willing my cramp to go away or at least deal with the pain of heavy guilt setting into another part of my stomach. "I'm such a fucking fraud," I admitted to myself in a moment of clarity and regret. Impulsive and short-tempered Leonie van Fleet, the misophonic asshole who doesn't know what she's doing, everyone. Round of applause.

A voice in the stall next to mine ripped me out of my thoughts. "Does anybody have a tampon?" They asked obnoxiously above the dull sound of thumping music.

"I do! Hold up." I yelled back immediately, pondering on my last one and deciding giving it away would limit my time here but maybe having no other choice was a good thing. "I'll trade you for some toilet paper." I put my hands through the bottom of the stall door and crouched down, hoping I wouldn't lose my balance when chipped white nail polish met equally broken black polish as they grabbed for the tampon.

"Thank you so fucking much. My night is saved." They said, made the exchange and I felt dizzy when I decided to end my crisis and finish up myself. "No problem, that's what uterus pals are for." I slurred before flushing and walking up to the sink. I felt a little more drunk than I had originally thought.

"What was that you were saying?" The voice sounded nasal like it's been through quite a bit of crying before. "You're a fraud? What do you mean by that?"

Nosey, this one.

"I mean uh... I'm pretending to be this destructive version of myself. Or what am I doing here?" I was reeling with thoughts while washing my hands with barely existent soap. With no option to dry them in sight, I let the water drip as I stared at my reflection. A stranger stared back, a vision of everything gone wrong.

"Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into it." The voice ripped me out of my tunnel vision again.

I crossed my arms and the words somehow kept flowing out almost too easily. "I just keep making the wrong decisions," I spoke above the sound of the distant, thumping beat. "Just don't know why. Maybe just to punish myself for my perfect life." I narrated my unthought-through, impulsive actions and concluded my crisis with the afterthought of a selfish brat. "You know what? What's worse is that all I do is punish the person that matters to me most."

"Huh." The toilet flushed and out the stall came the same woman from earlier and a look of recognition washed over our faces. "Oh, it's you!" We burst out at the same time. She was of similar height, maybe in her early forties but it was impossible to say with that skincare routine she had going for her. Apart from the eccentric decorations on her face, she had black shiny hair and red-painted lips. "The self-punishment over a hypothetical would make sense if you think you might not deserve the positive things in your life. Have you been through some shit? Apologies for assuming-" She washed her hands messily and also noticed the lack of soap. "I'm drunk."

My brain caught up with her a second later. "Yeah, horrendous stuff." I dramatised in my tipsy state and leaned my weight against the neighbouring sink.

I lacked the ability to comprehend how she could have been so spot-on at first sight. Maybe my cry for help was painted above my head as obvious as the neon sign of this club. The woman spoke with an equal amount of compassion and anger. "Many of us have. Bullied and chased out of our homes. Fewer rights as a marginalised group. It's worse even for the trans community. So many places where you must have felt not accepted. I'm sorry, that had to be tough."

"I'm... Yes, that's true but I'm not trans." I informed her with a smile, amused she'd thought I was.

She froze like an elephant in a porcelain shop. "That wig-"

"It's a wig, yes." She had a fair point for assuming. It was a high probability in a queer scene club like this and my heavy makeup and a wig I hadn't even glued on.

"Well..." She grinned, making it obvious to me that my hairline was crappy enough for me to not pass as a woman. "Anyway then, your partner, she's the best thing in your life and you're emotionally dependent on her?" She asked before bending down and took a sip straight from the tap.

Feeling like such a fraud again, I suddenly felt ashamed. I was out of place. "He is. I hope I'm not but the truth is, I couldn't live without him. He's the best thing in my life." I corrected her and she coughed into the stream.

"Damn, I assumed you'd at least be part of the L in the alphabet mafia. What were the odds?" "No, it's fine. We're in a queer club so... I'm sorry for invading this space. I guess I just wanted a peaceful night out. Can't escape men anywhere though. Surprise." I chuckled at her before being serious again. "Karma. I haven't been treating my partner well these past couple of months." Suddenly admitting it felt devastating and my voice quivered so much, it made her turn her entire body and meet me with a worried frown. "I had a very abusive dad and I'm afraid, so fucking afraid I'm the abuser now." I was taken aback by my confession, for it was so unlike me to bring up my past, let alone to a stranger. However, there was something about this woman. Something so comforting and familiar, I had to reveal a well-hidden part of my life to an equally drunk stranger in a filthy bathroom.

Yet I received nothing but her entire attention and while her presence felt comforting, her voice was clear and cool as ice. "My best guess is you have tried to cope with everything yourself, depending on whatever distracted you and fed your love deprivation." She deducted.

I gaped at her. "How-"

"Do you mind?" She pulled a cigarette from a battered package and I shook my head 'no' when she offered me one. "I think I get it now. Wait for it-" She climbed onto the heater and blew smoke out of the tiny window. For a moment, she digested the first drag, smoking in a kind of club where nobody would bat an eye anyway. I felt like a lost little kitten, staring up at her with big hungry eyes. It nearly seemed she gathered information by scanning me from head to toe. "You have some kind of European accent, maybe you were new here at some point and lonely. You're a petite, pretty little thing with daddy issues in a queer club, still unable to escape that predatory behaviour from earlier. So in theory, you know how to protect yourself because you had trauma to deal with but you feel deep hurt all the time. Plus, a loving partner and a domestic fight, equals the fragile state you're in. Babe, you're trying to run away from happiness. It's called self-sabotage."

My throat hurt from having swallowed too hard. Mind completely blank from unadulterated surprise, I stuttered. "Self- self-sabotage... is that what this is?"

She clicked her tongue. "It's a behaviour that makes you think you have control over the negative outcome of your actions and be in charge of your pain. It's not real. You're just calming yourself with predictability." She had opened her arms like she had presented me with a magic trick and I was the stupified spectator who couldn't appreciate her art form. Although, what she said, sounded perfectly logical.

Impressed by her quick mind, I stood there with a frown between my brows while I took my time to process. "I was not expecting free therapy at three in the morning," I said numbly.

"Surprise." She grinned like a Cheshire cat despite the thin veil of tears that was still evident in her eyes.

"Are you in a psychological field of any kind? You seem so..." I tried to think of a better word than 'intelligent' and a kinder word than 'crazy yet wise. "Analytical."

She disposed of the burning cigarette through the crack in the window and hopped down to me. "Psychiatrist in crisis." She winked before turning to the mirror and giving her lips a fresh coat of red paint. A burst of frustration made her voice quiver. "But I have come to the realisation my work is fruitless in a world where people keep having normal fucking reactions to toxic post-capitalism. I'll never accomplish anything." She stopped doing her makeup to let go of her rage as she reenacted a conversation with one of her patients. "Oh, you're having a burnout and you live in a constant state of anxiety? You're a single mom working two jobs and you still can't pay rent let alone your medical bills but sure, you must have problems because Mercury is in retrograde." She was close to crying again and angrily tossed her lipstick into her purse. "I'm supposed to help people but all I see are unsolvable problems and stupid shit." She stared ahead in a nearly manic way and then breathed out like she was trying to get it out of her system.

Our tearful eyes locked in the mirror and I felt we had bonded in that moment. "I'm Giulia." My new companion introduced herself then.

"Nini." We shook hands and I came straight back to the point with something she said that had bothered me. "How did you know I have some unresolved issues?"

She didn't conceal an ironic smile. "You were talking to yourself in a bathroom stall. That's not a tough one to guess." She was right and my eyes started to become blurry before she interrupted me with a suggestion. "Wanna go outside? Dr Oswald will see you now." She offered with the grin of a siren who seemed to lure me in with a promising song of mental stability. After a short consideration, I sighed and nodded.

My path tonight had brought me to a club with a bright pink neon sign buzzing above its entrance. This hole-in-the-ground club's heavy electro-dance beat could only be revealed when its doors swung open. After falling shut, the soundproofing reduced the thumping music down to a dull ache in my memory. Some friends had shown me 'Nomi's' a few years ago and my disguise was either good enough to remain anonymous or simply nobody was bothered by the fact that a celebrity, and a hetero-normative one at that, was floating through an LGBTQ scene. The buff goth lady simply nodded at us before setting us free into the cold night.

Giulia poked me in the arm. "You hungry? I'm starving."

I shuffled about in the cold, considering if my anxiety was treatable with some food, then everything would be fine again. "I could eat."

"Wanna get kebab or pizza?" She held onto a street light and swung around playfully.

The corners of my mouth turned down into pathetic pout. "Chicago pizza?"

She smiled and frowned at the same time. "Yeah, why not? I know a place that's still open."

We talked on our entire way to the pizza place, shared our worries and doubts and she listened like we were two old friends who had finally reconnected but had never grown apart. The more she poured her interest into my problems, the more she lit up and somehow, I had overshared my entire trauma history. I was free to pretend to just be someone ordinary while in reality, I was opening up to a past life my public persona only dealt with when ugly rumours after a speculative peer-review turned into invasive interview questions. Giulia on the other hand had no idea who I was. To her, I was just another lost person.

The buzz of the alcohol had somewhat lessened during our cold morning walk. Some delis were already opening their shops for the day while the pizza place served their last customers.

A chosen New Yorker claiming Chicago-style pizza was superior was a dangerous opinion to have. Yet, I never felt more certain of it when the cheese string connecting to my piece seemed to never end. I chuckled darkly and groaned in delight while Giulia gave me an approving "Yeees, get in there."

"All I needed was some damn pizza." I sighed lowly, and yet again, battled my crisis with humour. "Can you believe that my ex-therapist advised me to go on a crash diet? All he wanted to talk about was my weight and my sex life. He wanted to stop me from being a massive kinky bitch and why would I want that?" Both of us cackled.

"Shit." She frowned, the doctor having a habit of leaning into me when she found something interesting. "I don't get how someone like that is able to keep a license."

"Yeah! Right?" I cried out, mouth full of hot pizza. I found enjoyment in being a hot mess when I mimicked his voice. "Oh, doesn't matter if you have a drug history. I have you under my wing, this is completely safe. Now here's some Ketamine. And boom, I'm dealing with withdrawal, cheers. Thanks a lot, dickhead."

"You weren't safe with him. Therapy shouldn't be manipulative." Dr Oswald stated.

"I swear, I have no verbal filter anymore. Being off meds is the worst." Though I had conveniently left out the part that I was famous, I remembered we were still in public and I shouldn't talk about too private things. I stared into the starless night above Manhattan and missed them as much as my sanity. "I can't help missing this... howling loneliness and complete lack of ego inside what was just mind fog." There wasn't any other way to describe ketamine to me. My nose clogged up at the pain and struggle of it all. "My sweet boyfriend- I was so mean to him and I know I'm also on my period and extra mean and the sauce I made was way too runny!" I sobbed at this point, nearly inarticulate, drifting off towards a point that was still very important to me.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." "It was practically water!" I sobbed out at the memory of our unsatisfactory dinner last night, shoulders shaking from crying.

"No... I meant what you said about being mean." She clarified while I suppressed a threatening hiccup. "What's your underlying concern?" Doc redirected our conversation with an annoyingly stereotypical therapy question but I guessed that had to be part of it.

"You know, I lost my cat-" A gulp broke my speech and I breathed until I got it together. "And it shouldn't feel this marginal but watching her die and realising I wasn't over my mum's death and feeling this profound sense of grief made me realise that maybe I don't want to be loved like that when I die. This much." Thick drops of tears streamed down my face and I knew I must have not made a lot of sense. "Never expressing this much love again. Feel the way I'm feeling... in that moment. I never stopped grieving and I figured, if he'd hate me, that would be easier."

The look she gave me was one of full understanding. "Go on, you got this." She encouraged me with a firm hand on my shoulder.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, snot, tears and makeup got stuck on the black fabric. "You know what my angel said? He said he could never hate me and he would never regret loving me, that I taught him that." I stifled myself with more pizza.

"Sounds like your person is there to help you navigate your pain," Doc said. "Maybe you're looking to become the people who would rather love like no one has ever loved before than to avoid the greatest suffering."

It seemed Pedro and I kept growing together. Through good and bad times. Despite the hardship, we still remained a unit and maybe that was all that mattered.

I soon rediscovered that food made everything better again and I filled the hole in my soul with cheese until my phone started buzzing in my pocket. Pedro was calling again.

"That's him?" Giulia asked with a look at the caller ID showing that 'Angel' with a load of heart emojis was calling. I showed her a picture of him and me together from our last New Year's celebration and she cooed at our big smiles. "I miss him," I admitted.

"He looks sweet. A bit... older than you, I guess?" She slurred back.

Bless her heart, she didn't recognise him either. "A bit." I downplayed our eighteen-year age gap. "Truth is, I am lucky to be with this treasure of a man, he's kind, sexy, smart and so talented." I gushed over him.

"But you've not communicated about your argument?" A slight smile spread on her lips despite her seriousness and somehow, I saw someone competent past those rhinestone eyebrows.

"No. I ran. Like always." I said in pure disappointment in myself. "I don't know if I fucked up for good this time. I can be such a bitch these days. But imagine me going home after this, what the fuck." I chewed slowly. "He already worries so much." I already knew my eyes were puffy and my lips were swollen from biting them. "Pedro thought he'd get a fun and bubbly, nurturing girlfriend but then he met my insecure dramatic traumatised and needy ass. What if I can't give him everything he deserves? He somehow still settled for me." A fresh tear ran down my cheek, this time I thought it might have been a happy one.

"You don't think your relationship is healthy?" Doc asked with a cough and I shrugged my shoulders. My fingers played with my sea glass necklace. "Do you think it's bad that... I don't feel like I'm not constantly on fire?"

"You think about the mind games that kept you interested?" "Don't call me out like that." My eyes narrowed.

"Let me ask you something. Does your relationship feel like an up-and-down roller coaster?"

I felt stupified and stammered out. "No?"

She kept insisting. "When someone has a hard time, do you make time to be there for the other? Not to improve things but just to be there."

"We can be miles away from each other at times but... yes. He's my lighthouse." I smiled widely despite her not getting the reference.

Giulia licked sauce off her thumb. "Do you bring the inner child up in each other?"

"Always." I laughed with tears in my eyes at every happy memory. I recalled our Christmases, birthdays, interviews and public events or simply the ordinary evenings just between the two of us.

Dr Oswald's shoulders relaxed with a sigh. "I think your relationship is more than healthy. Healthier than average couples. Don't let your insecurities talk you down, grow from them." With that, she shoved her last bite of pizza into her mouth and clapped her hands-free from crumbs.

My eyes skipped between her and the floor awkwardly. "Thanks, I guess."

She hummed before sharing an amused memory. "When my ex was fed up with me, I made her a sock puppet and tried to talk about it. She never called again." She demonstrated it with her glove. "Why don't you trust people?" She voiced her hand.

I gave her a fond smile as we began our walk back. "You're weird," I said with a chuckle as I retrieved a pre-rolled blunt from my purse and held it up to Giulia in an offer.

She grinned before passing me her lighter. "You're a cliché." She watched me light joint and take a practiced drag of the spicy herb.

"You're the one who said she dismembered Barbies as a kid." I countered with a deep exhale.

"Don't pretend you're not just as weird. You probably tortured your Sims or played with scary spiders or something." Giulia assumed, judging by my goth outfit by all accounts before taking a drag herself.

I couldn't help but play a joke on her. "There were indeed only spiders in the basement to play with," I commented dryly and her eyes closed while mine widened. Having just listened to the story of my sad childhood and the fact that my father used to lock me up in the cellar, she choked on the smoke. For a moment we were both shocked by my words until I noticed she was slowly breaking into laughter. She tried to keep it behind her hand but now we were both finished trying to hold back and instead of trying to work through and process my trauma, we let go of a hollering laugh. She at least tried to remain decent. "That's not funny. That's so not... funny."

I thought I was allowed to think it was. "It's a bit funny." She shook her head no, tearing up when she gave me my weed back. "See, you helped me already. I could talk about my dad without having an emotional breakdown. It's been easier already but I haven't felt this... relieved in a long time." I blinked away my tears stubbornly, finally admitting to myself that I was not fine and I was constantly reacting to my trauma. I decided then and there that if I would ever mistreat a future child of mine, I would not deserve to waste any more oxygen on this world. "You're really good at this. Knocking sense into people." I said sincerely.

"I appreciate you trying to end my lost cause. You made me feel like I'm not a total failure after all." She said on our way back through the calm side alleys. Our steps echoed from the red brick stone walls as we passed the joint back and forth.

"Are you kidding me? I appreciate your work so much. You do matter. This was... this was really helpful. I mean it." I saw her bottom lip trembling at my promise.

"Thank you. You're very nice."

Like a cool cat, I flicked the joint away. "I have my moments." She let me drape my arm across her shoulders as we made our way out of the last alley.

The night was slowly lifting and my mind felt light as a feather when the club came back into view. "I don't think I'll go back inside again." I said at the end of our journey.

Giulia turned and her hands clapped onto her sides with a sigh. "Now imma tell you what I'd say as a therapist and imma tell you what I'd say as a parent from an Italian household." She took a step closer and lowered her voice, her concern sounding far from patronising. "I would very much like to test you for PTSD and bipolar disorder and I want to break down generational trauma and introduce you to the right medication and progressive, beneficial habits because you girl, are not making wise choices." She finally put her finger down. "Second, and this is my nonna speaking-" Suddenly she raised her voice and I jumped. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET YOUR ASS HOME, PRONTO." She gestured like her Italian grandma and I chirped out a laugh.

"O-okay." I was met with a passionate grin I had to somewhat dampen. "PTSD has kind of already been diagnosed though." A deep intuitive feeling matched and I somehow knew she would be able to help me.

"No depression?" "It's more of an anxiety disorder." "Shame. People with depression have the best Spotify playlists."

I blinked at the sound of her disappointment. "I would very much like to become your patient." I decided then and there.

"Fantastic." She wrestled her hand into her boot in return to give me a white business card with a font that promised a brutalist interior design. 'M.D. G. Oswald' written on it with an office address in Manhattan not far from here.

"Fancy," I noted and tucked it away into my bra. She seemed genuinely happy at the encounter. "God knows, I've made my partner age ten years tonight. After this-" I began to walk backwards towards the street. "I owe him a lifetime of happiness... and no more runny sauces."

"Try creme fraiche next time." Giulia advised me and the only thing I could do was comment with an awkward 'ah.

I shifted my weight from one to the other foot, pointing in the direction of an approaching cab. "I should probably... I'll give you a call." I turned one last time after I had already managed to hail it. "Hey Doc, one more thing."

"What?"

I couldn't have addressed her with a sterner tone as I stood by the open door of my ride. "If you ever tell me I need to forgive my dad, I'll be out the door." I threatened and at first she looked puzzled, but then saluted me in understanding and we smiled at each other.

I was already inside the taxi when she whistled sharply with her fingers and provoked me to roll the window down. "Ey, one last word of advice." She began as she stood in front of the door back where our journey had originally started. "Make up with your fella. If he's mad, suck his dick. He'll get over it."

"Amen!" A bunch of suddenly cheerleading people roaming the club's entrance in their colourful outfits contributed with loud and some lewd additions.

I nodded and sank a little deeper into my seat with my cheeks heating up at her thumbs up. "Thanks." Giulia slapped the roof of my taxi for goodbye and as I drove off, I looked back to see her going back inside the club.

~~~

At around five in the morning, the house was dark and perfectly quiet. Everything seemed to go according to plan if it meant Pedro had finally gone to sleep. The key and wind chime at the door hardly made a noise when I crept inside, yet having to greet a pathetically whining Edgar who had been waiting for me on the doormat required an advanced level of discreteness. "Hey, good boy, hi! Oh, dear. Oh, dear." I went over to pacify our boy before I snuck inside bare feet with my shoes dangling from my fingers.

Completely parched, I passed into the kitchen, unloaded all of my belongings onto the counter and fumbled at my earrings with a sigh. My mouth tasted weird.

I was stretching towards the glasses when sudden bright headlight illuminated the entire room and scared the living hell out of me. His sudden appearance had been nearly enough to drop my glass before I could even retrieve it from the cupboard. "Kut, fuck! You scared me!" I cursed after swishing around to see one particular unpleased Pedro in the French doorway. His frown only deepened and he gave me a thin-lipped stare as he leaned against the frame and crossed his toned arms over his chest.

I knew I had to look like an absolute mess, yet I gestured around as if I couldn't see what the point of him busting me like a naughty teenager was. This was terribly like a bad childhood memory of my father doing practically the same thing, the only difference was that I wasn't scared of Pedro. He was dressed in his old pyjamas and his hair was adorably ruffled post-shower but his softness was entirely replaced by harsh tension. Deep bags cast a shadow underneath his eyes and it was then that I noticed the sheen of tears in their hardness, something between pure anger and also, relief.

"Hi." I gulped, sensing I was in deep trouble regardless. I slowly pulled my wig off my head, discarding the long black strands as they flowed off my shoulders. He didn't echo my greeting as usual.

My eyes skipped to the floor at the sight of his obvious disappointment in me and I wondered if I would manage to raise any kind of reaction from him other than eyes that stared daggers into my soul. Pedro's anger was a chilling thing to behold. It was rare.

His chest first expanded and he tore his hand over his mouth like he needed to stop all the necessary curses from tumbling out with his next exhale. "How was it?" He asked instead, ironically with a sharp edge to each word. His eyes radiated a kind of severe heat that promised this was merely the calm before the storm.

I forced myself not to stutter but my heart beat out of my chest. "It was... nice. I feel good. Really good. Better um... I thought you'd maybe be asleep by the time I get home."

"Oh, really?" He parroted with dripping sarcasm, finally stepping down the few stairs and stalking intimidatingly closer. I shrunk underneath him and bumped into the counter, wincing at his proximity more than the impact. "Where were you?" He growled, jaw clicking.

Irritation glared up at me at his patronising tone and I realised I wasn't done provoking him after all. It was like I couldn't stop myself. With an attitude, I raised my chin and snarked up at him. "Why does it matter? I'm no longer there."

"Did you take anything?" He turned my face into the light above with force and I blinked, irritated at the examination. The light was too bright and his grip pinched my cheeks a little too harsh for his gentle character. He held heated eye contact that made my pride resolve and finally crumble. "Leonie, did you take anything?" He bit down at me after he couldn't detect something unusual about the dilation reflex in my pupils.

I freed myself from his grasp. "No, I didn't! Let go of me." I pouted childishly and he let it be for the moment, stepping back and letting me go like my touch burned him. "I'm fine!" I added when he walked away from me.

He faced the garden, his broad back casting a shadow onto the blueish-hued floor when I dared to speak up again. "I'm... I'm tired. I think I should just go to bed." I tried to sneak my way out but he was quicker to strut to the couch and toss me a pillow.

"No, you're not." He ordered, clearly insinuating I was sleeping here tonight.

"Fine." I bit out and aggressively fumbled with a blanket while he turned around and didn't take another look at me. A gush of air pushed through his nose when he walked past me.

I could only watch as he went to leave, a rush of sympathy and guilt provoking me to finally do the right thing. "I'm s-"

He broke off my apology. "Go to sleep and sober up. We'll speak in the morning."

A heavy stone settled in my heart. "Pedro."

He went to go upstairs and not once turned to look at my sad, lost form that waited in vain for a sign of forgiveness.

~~~

When I woke about five hours later, it was by the sound of items banging in the kitchen. The smell of something delicious sizzled in a pan but my stomach dreaded it and my head felt like it could burst. The first wave of sickness crashed into me when I remembered the resemblance of hatred in Pedro's eyes. Mine opened to the sight of his chocolate curls bouncing as he chopped something with a knife. His gaze was still turned down even though he must have seen that I was up and the more I told myself that he didn't care for me anymore, the more I felt like I deserved it.

The smell of bacon suggested that the thick tension hanging in this house was merely a delusion. Normally it meant something different. A cosy breakfast with a newspaper and coffee, loving banter and plans for the future.

Pedro discarded something into the bin when I sat up and disturbed Edgar, who had been sleeping cuddled into my side.

Pedro sighed and tossed the towel he'd been using over his shoulder. It was like he needed to brace himself before acknowledging me with a side glance and a tight pull of his moustache. I threw my blanket off and felt nothing but awful at the sight of the fatigue on his face.

"Good morning," I muttered meekly and got up to go and sit at the table with my hands folded sheepishly in front of me. I didn't even dare to walk up to him and get myself a cup of coffee. Pedro on the other hand, knowing me inside and out, fetched it for me and the creamy liquid sloshed over the rim at the force he used to slam it down in front of me. A plate with a croissant followed next with a harsh clatter of porcelain on wood. Before this 'talk' I dreaded more than anything would ensue, he waited for me to examine my favourite breakfast that I still adored him for. "Thank you." I barely managed to say.

He watched me dunk a piece of buttery deliciousness into my coffee, slip it into my mouth and treat him to a careful smile. I knew he had gone out of his way to get me fresh croissants but I couldn't tell if it was a peace offering or should merely act like a little sugar to make the medicine taste not so bitter. I braced myself for the latter. "D'd you sleep well?" He muttered tiredly and I nodded.

"The couch is pretty comfortable, actually." I attempted to make an insignificant observation before returning the question and receiving a hardly noticeable shake of his head as he brushed it off.

"Pedro, talk to me," I begged him, still hoping I could fix this. "Please."

Yell at me, throw something. Just anything.

I could hardly swallow as he stalked through the room. He took deep breath before his agitation finally unfolded. "Do you have any idea-" he spoke slow and patiently. "-how worried I was all night?"

Finally, his eyes met mine and it was nearly devastating. A heavy gulp forced my food down and I inhaled to start with an apology but he stopped me from making even the tiniest approach. "I was frightened, I didn't know what to do. You just... storm out after we had a fight, I have no idea where you're going-" The heat still radiated from his eyes when his voice turned a mocking tone. "The problem is you don't fucking care about anything! I wait for a fucking sign of life from you but you ignore my texts, you don't answer my calls-" His voice rose in volume with each word. "And then, finally at five in the morning, you come home, reeking of alcohol and weed and I knew-- I knew that would happen. Who else but you would just disappear, then pop up like nothing happened?" He had bent over the table, hands splayed out across when he spoke to me in calm anger. "You know what you did? You mixed painkillers with alcohol and drugs, you're lucky you didn't end up in the ER! And don't get me started on the scandal you could have caused when you walk around fucking wasted like that." He shook his head at me and I decided to keep it to myself that I had been to a gay club on top of that. "Irresponsible, stupid, impulsive girl. Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't think you're a fucking danger hazard to yourself!"

"I was 'not' wasted," I muttered under my breath, but he looked past my antics and the flaw of design I called self-medication. He was speechless. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Oh, you're sorry?" he chastised me, louder this time, ready to berate me a little more. "I'm sorry is not fucking good enough this time!" He was breathing irregularly.

"I needed a little bit of freedom, Pedro!" I cried out.

Maybe emotion made him irrational at this point too. He didn't care Edgar was whining at us. "Oh, remind me again how horrible living in LA was and make me feel guilty about it."

"I begged to come with you, to just leave New York, remember? Poen died and I wanted to leave." I yelled back, frantically wiping away the first couple of tears at his fury. "I love you, wherever you go, I go!" I sobbed. Silence hung in the room like thick fog clouding us.

He sighed, holding back the severity of his anger when he realised he had made me cry. Finally he sat next to me at the head of the table and with a terrible sigh, ruffled his hand through his hair.

He sounded so tired. "I was so fucking mad. Still am. You treat my concern like it's nothing. I get you're searching for yourself and what's good for you but call me out on my delusion if I assume it's not in self-medication but right here." He told me with his eyes closed. "Honey, I'm so invested in helping and supporting you and I also know you won't find that sort of thing while going out and risking your wellbeing. I have... a lot of empathy for what you're going through. Be selfish, by all means, but I am 'not-" he fixed my eyes with his and put his index finger onto the table. "deserving of being treated like shit. Trust goes both ways. If I can't convince you to do what's best for you, I trust that you at least won't disrespect my compassion."

Finally it sank in and I was struck by so much shame, my eyes stung violently and I hated myself for ever hurting him. Even if unintentionally, he was the only one who could stop me on my way down because he was in control of my heart. I was the first to break our tense silence. "I need help," I admitted in tears. "I want to get better."

We finally seemed to understand each other's dire struggle, for when he grasped my hand, it meant the world to me. "Maybe you want to try this clinic I found. I heard it's-" He began but I interrupted him and tried to conceal my disgust at even the mention of rehab.

"I already found a new therapist," I announced and he leaned back in a puzzled state. "Good, eh... good. What?" He stuttered.

"Last night." I finished and watched his jaw drop. He gave me a look like he was finally done with my bullshit and the hand he'd previously held so comfortingly let me go again. I aimed to pacify him before he could say anything. "A good psychiatrist, I met her in the club and I got a free session but I'm already a hundred per cent sure, she's the right one for me. She is... incredible."

Pedro was still too baffled to even process this piece of information. "That's... that's-" Pedro didn't know what exactly this was, he tried to think about his words but failed. He put his palm to his forehead to relieve the headache that had to be forming there. "I feel like you forgot everything I just said. You don't get it." Pedro looked at me, puzzled.

"I do." "No, I begged you to make more sensible decisions and then you barge in with this." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, you're a piece of work."

I tried not to take that past comment personally. "I mean something good came out of my manic episode. I realised important things. For example, that I'm self-sabotaging."

"Okay... okay. Let's think this through." Pedro had calmed down somewhat and ran his hand over his beard in an attempt to try and start over. "Does this therapist have any credentials? What's her background? References? Do you have any idea who she is?" His questions were all reasonable but I had no answers to them. All I knew was that none mattered because I had a good feeling I about her.

"She's extremely smart and empathetic, she's boisterous, a lesbian and she's a socialist. You'd like her." I explained and he blinked at me. Dumbfounded, he folded his hands and I felt free to tell him the entire story of how Doc and I met.

Even after I was done explaining, he was still not convinced. "You know can't have a personal relationship with your therapist. This meeting while going out... thing and smoking together doesn't sound good at all. Who parties with their therapist?"

"I know, I know we can't be friends. She already said something like that. That and, that I should suck your dick if you're still mad at me." His frown seemed edged in stone, causing my innocent expression to crumble bit by bit. "You don't want that." I assumed, quietly.

"No, I don't." He dismissed, low and pointedly. "This is a bad idea. And this... therapist suggesting a blow job would fix this-" he looked up with a spark of humour I fixed my hope on. "Maybe."

I raised my eyebrows and he pointed a finger at me. "No, I was joking." "Okay, jeez." "I'd appreciate it if you took this seriously."

Maybe it had dawned on me or my manic episode was finally tranquillized by cold sobriety but my eyes stung with tears and my voice cracked when I spoke under my breath. "I am taking it more seriously than ever." I tried and was met with a look of love and pain in his eyes that nearly broke my heart.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it." He begged quietly.

A heavy gulp got stuck in my throat and for several moments, I gathered the right things to say. "I know... I know you have a good reason to be angry with me but I felt... so helpless." I choked up. "So unseen."

For several long, insufferable beats, we stayed mute until the quietness became too much to bear. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way." His voice had cracked mid-sentence. "Just the thought anything could happen to you... and it would have been my fault. When I didn't hear anything from you, I was so angry."

When his eyes filled with tears, I reached over the table to gently try and loosen the arms he had crossed in front of his chest. Reluctantly, he opened up and let me hold his hand.

"Baby, I know it's been hard. I know-" My voice quivered while he tried to compose himself and meet my eyes. He was right, I hadn't been myself lately and I was so sorry for everything. For last night, for what nearly happened in LA. He was the one person I wanted to keep trying for and I made a promise with the only words that mattered. "I'll do better."

Pedro nodded, the flicker of warmth in his moist eyes. He believed me. "Okay." He decided and merely the thought of ever disappointing him again broke my heart. Never in my entire life had I felt such shame. The tears that had gradually been filling my eyes spilled over and I watched them fall into my lap when I couldn't hold them any longer.

He cupped my cheek when a sob shook my body and raised my chin so he could look me in the eyes and make something clear. "I was scared, for you. And you- you don't understand how much it hurts when you run out the door like that. Please, at least let me know you're okay next time." He admitted quietly.

"I'm so sorry." I cried out.

"You were right, I was too controlling. And I'm sorry for letting you sleep on the couch and being too harsh on you." He sighed, wiped first mine, then his tears away before he regained his composure. "If you need time for yourself, I won't stop you."

"Not... time away from you but-" I sighed. "Maybe I just need to get back to work. Do my own thing again and work on some music."

"That's a very good idea." He smiled for the first time and it was soothing, even though something seemed to still weigh on his mind. "Can you promise me something?" His eyes snapped back up from our entwined hands and I braced myself to receive an expectation I would have trouble meeting. "Promise you'll tell me when you feel like I'm smothering you, so you won't start to resent me?"

Finally, the consequences of my actions had an impact when I realised he was definitely the more mature person about this. The fact that I made him worry about that deeply saddened me. "I could never resent you." I squeaked out, finally broken.

Pedro breathed out a relieved sigh when I threw myself into his arms and I could hold him tight. His shoulders sank low as he hid his face in the crook of my neck and hugged me close. He needed me as much as I needed him, right here and wrapped up in his arms.

"Lost my fucking Duolingo streak." He grumped, spoke muffled into my shoulder and triggered a peal of laughter to bubble up between us.

"I'm so sorry, angel. I really am." I replied nasally but somewhat relieved of all tension. Looking back at him, I wiped away the moisture underneath his eyes.

"It's okay now." He promised. "I promise it'll be okay."

I revelled in his gentle touch. "I'm sorry for being all wrong in the head." My voice thinned out.

He caught my chin between his finger and thumb. "Hey, hey, you're not. Look at me." I did, looking into his still glistening, beautiful brown eyes to see him sniff and brace me for some uplifting words. "You think there's something wrong with you? There's nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with you. Anxiety and depression fucking suck but you're gonna stop being so hard on yourself. It gets better, I promise. And when we fight, we fight hard but we love even harder." His eyes were so soulful and he was in every way, kindness and beauty while I was ashamed of the way I looked, felt and behaved. Somehow he made me feel deserving again just by looking at me.

"You don't know how much that means to me." I was hardly able to say through my throat closing up in tears as I held his face in between my palms. "I'm sorry, Pedro. My sweetheart." Gazing into his shimmery, yet determined eyes and finally seeing no sign of irritation in them lifted an enormous weight off my heart. A desperate need for closeness forced its way into our embrace. It was nearly too harsh, the way he pulled me closer when his fingers tangled into the roots of my hair like he'd lose me if he didn't but I needed it to survive.

He held me close for what felt like forever and again, I felt the need to just disappear within him. "Hey, I don't want a mentally stable partner. That's boring." I said in an uplifting tone and I nearly giggled. "Because that's not fun. It doesn't fit me. You fit me. I want you, with all of your issues. To me, you are perfect." He placed many, loving kisses on my head and made his devotion and immortal support finally resonate within me. I was a path without an end and he was happy to keep treading on it.

Part 3 - Coming Soon

Translation notes:

(it): nonna - (eng): grandma

(it): pronto - (eng): now

(dut): kut - (eng): cunt

#pedro pascal x actress #pedro pascal #series #fanfiction series #of a sun and flower #pedro pascal/original female character #fluff #domestic fluff

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