#like he's not booksmart clearly but he's not dumb either

[fuyumigf]

i think hanseo is street smart (street in question is fighting for life every second he's around his brother)

[lifeofkaze]

hello i have fallen i love with your charlie fic (❤❤!!) and i want to ask if you could you write some angst where barnaby has a crush on mc and they're super oblivious and later they start dating someone else ans barnaby realizes he lost them?

My dearest anon, let me say: I AM SORRY. Writing your ask took me forever (literally, lol) even though I had it in my head the moment I got your asks all those months ago. But I never felt the right inspiration to actually write it down until today. Today it just hit me. I do hope you're actually still around and reading what I made out of it.

I'm really truly sorry. 😅

So, without further ado, I present to you:

Missed Chances

Barnaby Lee x Reader

Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

He was by no means dumb, he just wasn’t as clever or booksmart as most of his peers, a fact he was well aware of. But it didn’t bother him that much, really. He had found his means of getting by during classes and ever since distancing himself from Merula Snyde back in their third year, he had been able to gather a circle of friends around him he could fall back upon.

There was popular Penny Haywood for Potions, shy but gifted Ben Copper for Charms, and ever so patient Rowan Khanna when he had troubles with Transfiguration.

Barnaby’s favourite study sessions, however, were those for Defense Against The Dark Arts. Not because he was particularly bad at the subject; on the contrary, he was a skilled duelist and most charms and jinxes came naturally to him. No, the real reason those lessons were his favourite was because it was you who was teaching him.

Ever since he’d been drawn into your close circle of friends, his above average DADA marks had been plummeting, since he kept getting distracted during class. The professors weren’t impressed but neither surprised at his apparent lack of academic skills and under normal circumstances, Barnaby would have tried everything in his power to prove them wrong, that he could do better, that he wasn’t as stupid as everyone made him out to be.

But when you offered your help in catching up on the subject, Barnaby had changed his mind. You were always top of your DADA class and what better way to spend some time alone with you while listening to your beautiful voice explaining the differences between a curse and a hex.

Barnaby knew most of the things you were telling him already, so he had ample time to just watch you talk during your study sessions. He knew no one else could get so excited over dark creatures and cursed objects like you did. The way your eyes were sparkling when lecturing him on the differences between a werewolf and regular wolf had him enthralled every single time and the proud smile you gave him when he answered one of your questions correctly never failed to make Barnaby’s heart beat hard in his chest.

He would have loved to see that smile more often, but he made sure to let his real knowledge of the subject shine through sparingly. He was afraid that if he got too good, you might want to drop studying with him and that was something he couldn’t risk; spending time with you had become the highlight of his day. No one he knew rivalled the warmth you radiated and the unbroken faith you had in him, a sentiment that was completely new to Barnaby.

When the big news of the Celestial Ball was announced, it was all his peers could talk about. What to wear, how to look and who to bring were the questions dominating all of the four common rooms.

Barnaby never had to think twice who he wanted to be his date for the dance. He thought about how to properly ask you out for days on end; you were no common girl after all. You were the most extraordinary girl he knew and thus deserved an extraordinary invitation. But when he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, you looked at him sheepishly.

“That’s so sweet of you, Barney. I’m so flattered, really. But I already promised Rowan and Ben to go with them. You know, just as friends.”

His heart sank at the words. Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Maybe people were right about him being stupid after all.

Seeing his disheartened look, your face changed into something softer. “But I’m sure Rowan and Ben wouldn’t mind if you came along with us? As another friend?”

Barnaby beamed at her. “I’d love that. We’re going to have such a great time together, as friends,” he added, not quite sure whom he wanted to reassure, you or himself.

He would probably never forget the night of the Celestial Ball when he saw you in the dress André Egwu had designed for the first time. Rowan and Ben had arrived at the ball before you and when you stepped into the Great Hall all on your own, Barnaby’s breath stopped for a moment.

You were dressed in a beautiful, burgundy dress with intricate patterns embroidered around the neckline. Your waist was accentuated by a small belt and the skirt of your dress flowed around you in several layers of fabric. You looked like an ethereal being to him as you walked through the crowd over to him, Rowan and Ben, your skirt trailing slightly behind you.

His eyes didn’t leave you for the whole evening even for a second. He could hear you laughing when you danced with Rowan and Ben, the sound like silver bells to his ears. When he asked you for a dance with him, your hand just happened to fit perfectly into his and your bright smile made Barnaby forget everything else around you and him. He did take great care to not step on your dress, however. You looked so perfect, he didn’t want to ruin it with his own clumsiness; although he pretty much doubted anything could have taken away from your beauty.

When the Celestial Ball was over, Barnaby took the chance to walk you back to your common room. You had your arm linked with his and marched in step with him. As he was taller than you, it required some effort on your part, the strange walking rhythm making you giggle. The sound had Barnaby’s heart beat faster.

Barnaby was almost reluctant to let you go when you had reached the concealed entrance to your common room. He wasn’t quite sure what to do; all he wanted to do was put his arms around you, drawing you as close to him as possible and never letting go again. But he hesitated; what if you didn’t feel the same?

To gain some time, he cleared his throat. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” you smiled at him. “I’m glad you came along. You just have the most fun with your friends, right?”

The word ‘friends’ put a damper on the butterflies that had been swarming in Barnaby’s stomach until this point.

“Yes, friends,” he echoed, “because we’re friends.”

A look of confusion crossed your face for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” Barnaby lied quickly, glad that the flickering light of the torches hid the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Just exhausted from dancing, I guess.”

“Oh, alright. I’d better get to my common room then. Good night.”

There was a short, awkward pause, before you smiled at him, waved and vanished into your common room. Barnaby sighed; at least for night, he had definitely botched his chances.

Ever since the Celestial Ball and the anticlimax of its ending, Barnaby had made it his mission to convince you there was more to him than being your friend. He’d ventured into the library on his own and gathered together all books on romance he could find and read every single one of them. Most of them, especially the older ones, had given him quite some headaches, but he knew you enjoyed reading old love stories, so maybe they had some useful information to offer. How someone could spend their free time reading things like Jane Austen for fun, however, remained a mystery to him.

And apparently, the tips he had sourced weren’t that helpful either. Barnaby tried it all, he complimented you, he brought you flowers and small gifts that reminded him of you and tried connecting with you over things he knew you loved. Whenever he saw the chance to ask you out he tried. But as soon as he had gathered his courage, you had already promised one of your numerous friends to go with them instead. It was exasperating, really.

All the while, the study sessions with you continued. Barnaby had stopped pretending to be as oblivious as he made himself out to be in the beginning; he knew it was risky, in case you might want to drop studying with him if he got better, but he was too addicted to your smile at this point. No matter how hard his day had been, a smile from you and everything else was forgotten.

Barnaby wished you would finally notice just how much he adored you, but as long as he could spend time with you, listen to your voice and hear your laughter, everything was fine with him.

Until it was not.

He had noticed you were distracted lately and not as talkative as he was used to. Today’s Potions class was no exception. Professor Snape, who was even moodier than usual, was lecturing the class on the importance of knowing potion recipes by heart.

“You will not always carry a textbook with you,” he droned, “and while I wouldn’t trust half of you to brew a potion even with proper instructions, maybe some of you will be able to produce something remotely resembling a proper concoction by sheer luck. If I see one piece of parchment on the table, you will clean your classmates’ cauldrons after class. Begin.”

Dreading the next two hours of guessing which ingredients to use in what order, Barnaby glanced over to you. But you hadn’t been listening to the instructions, it seemed. Your attention was focused on a piece of parchment in front of you, hastily scribbled lines running across it. Barnaby tried catching a glimpse but when you noticed, you blushed deeply and quickly covered the parchment with your hand.

Barnaby, however, wasn’t the only one who had noticed the piece of parchment. Before you could do anything, Professor Snape had appeared next to you and snatched the parchment out of your grip.

“I thought I said no notes allowed, or didn’t I express myself clearly enough for your convenience?” he snarled.

“No, Professor, you misunderstand,” you gasped, “these aren’t Potions notes, it’s private. Can I please have it back?”

You reached for it, but Snape jerked his hand up so it was just out of reach. “That gives it even less reason to be present in my classroom,” he said coldly, a cruel smile stealing onto his face. “Let us share with the rest of the class what is distracting you from my lesson.”

Your cheeks were glowing bright red as Snape started reading the content of your note.

“Do you like me? Yes or No. Circle your answer,” he read out loud. “How droll,” he sneered over the chuckle of your classmates, “I suggest, next time you concentrate more on your potion and less on your silly personal bearings. Perhaps the result will be more decent then. 10 points from you and detention tonight.”

As he swept past your table, Barnaby noticed your hanging head. You had your hands clasped tightly together in your lap and seemed so small all of a sudden that he felt furious. Even though Snape was his head of house, he had no right whatsoever to embarrass you in front of everyone like that.

“Are you okay?” he asked you gently.

Not looking at him, you shook his head. “Why did he have to do that?” you whispered. “He could see I wasn’t taking notes. There was no need to read it out loud.”

“There wasn’t,” Barnaby agreed. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and lightly placing his hand on your arm. “He’s just a big, old, mean bat. Everyone says so.”

You sniffed, a small smile already spreading on your face again. “That’s true. Thank you.” You covered his hand with yours and squeezed it lightly. The touch sent jolts of energy through Barnaby from where your hands connected. His skin was still tingling when you turned towards your cauldron again, breaking the contact.

“Who was your note for, anyway?” Barnaby asked, trying not to sound as if this wasn’t the question burning red hot on his mind.

You looked at him wide-eyed. “I can’t possibly tell you.”

“Why not? Do I know him?”

Blushing again, you could only nod before dropping your gaze.

“It’s someone I’ve been friends with for a while now, but I don’t know if he feels the same. I don’t want to ruin our friendship by making a stupid move.”

Barnaby held his breath. You couldn’t possibly be talking about him, could you?

“How could it ruin your friendship?” he asked. “If he’s your friend, he’s your friend and nothing can change that.”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe you should just tell him,” he said deliberately casually, “who knows, maybe that friend of yours has been feeling the same for some time now, too.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “You think so?”

Barnaby nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Just try your luck, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

After the class was over and you had parted ways for the rest of the day, Barnaby counted the minutes until the evening when you had agreed to meet for another study session before your detention. He was positively bouncing with energy ever since lunchtime. You had come over to him with a nervous smile on your lips to ask him to meet up with you later.

“Chances are, I’ll need to tell you something,” you had said with a shaky laugh before joining your other friends for lunch. Barnaby had swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to look unfazed, but his insides had been burning with impatience ever since.

That was why he had arrived earlier than usual at the library that evening. He picked all the books out you would be needing and stacked and restacked them several times at the table you were usually working on.

It felt like an eternity until you finally entered the library, each second dragging into an eternity of its own. Barnaby saw you first. You stood in the entrance to the grand room and all of a sudden the library seemed to be a little brighter just by you being there. You scanned the rows of bookshelves with your eyes and a wide smile appeared on your face as they fell on him, waiting for you between books and quills in your favourite spot.

You quickly bounded over to him, a spring in your step that was a stark contrast to the miserable mood you had been in this morning. Before Barnaby even had a chance to ask what made you so happy, you had flung your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

On instinct, Barnaby put his arms around your waist and held you for a sweet moment that he wished would last forever. He could smell the flowery scent of your perfume and breathed it in deeply, trying to commit every last detail of how you felt in his arms to memory. He was sure you had to feel his heartbeat; how could you not with how hard it was hammering against his ribcage?

“He said yes, Barney! He really said yes!” you squealed, not caring one bit about Madam Pince’s indignant shush.

The sheer happiness coursing through his veins turned into ice that froze him from the inside in a matter of seconds. Confused, he loosened his hold on you and pushed you far enough away from him to look you in the face. The joy visible on it almost broke his heart.

“What?”

“My crush!” you beamed at him. “I followed your advice and asked him out, just now! And he said yes!” you repeated, hugging him again.

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” you said. Barnaby could feel your breath on the skin exposed by the open collar of his shirt. He hated himself for the shiver running down his spine.

“Why?” was all he managed to whisper in response.

“Because without you, I’d never have the courage to talk to him upfront. It’s all thanks to you that I have a date now. You’re really the best friend I could ask for.”

Every word you spoke was like a dagger pushed up to the hilt into his broken heart, every second he saw you smile at the prospect of going out with the boy you wanted to be with - the boy that wasn’t him - a twist of the blade until he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. His heart, that had beaten so wildly just moments before when he had held you in his arms, could have stopped beating right there and then; Barnaby doubted it would have felt much different to the consuming emptiness he felt at this very moment.

You were rambling on and on about where you wanted to take your date and what you would wear but Barnaby wasn’t listening. He didn’t even know who you were talking about; all he knew was that it wasn’t him and that thought was louder in his head than your words could ever be.

“What do you think of that?”

Barnaby realised you had come to the end of your explanations and expected an opinion from him. He forced himself to smile apologetically at you, when all he wanted to do was scream.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he croaked out.

Your brow creased. “Are you okay? You’re so pale all of a sudden.”

“I’m good,” Barnaby answered with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and started again. “I’m good, I just caught a cold, I think. I should go see Madam Pomfrey later.”

You made a sceptical sound and raised one eyebrow. “If you say so. So what do you think? Is Madam Puddyfoot’s Tea Shop a good idea or not?”

Barnaby had never heard of this tea shop before, but he’d go to Knockturn Alley for a date if it only was with you. “It doesn’t matter where you take him. He’s lucky he gets to go with someone like you in the first place.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I’m just happy you’re happy,” Barnaby said and even meant it, in a way. He just wished the source of your happiness was him and not somebody else.

You hugged him once again and he was glad that you couldn’t see the pained expression crossing his features for a moment. “You’re the best, Barney. I’m so glad to have you in my life.”

You let go and turned towards the table laden with books Barnaby had so carefully set up. “Shall we?”

He sat down with you and watched as you started taking out your notes on objects cursed with minor jinxes. Your eyes were sparkling even more than usual and even now, you were so beautiful to Barnaby it hurt.

With a sigh, he concentrated on what you had to say for a change. His time spent daydreaming about you was over for good now, so he might as well do what the two of you were here for and study.

No, Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

But even he knew that when it came to you, he had missed too many chances.