#professor gaunt trope

[jlhynde-insanitybrilliance]

2nd year: Harry suddenly becomes one of the top students in his year. Hermione is pissed as hell that she has a competitor, as is Draco. (And so is Snape. This is what motivates the brat?!) Harry gives up denying Theo's accusation that he's only doing this to gain Professor Gaunt's praise and individual attention. (Theo: Fine. At least you're actually listening in our study sessions. / Harry: Aren't you helping b/c helping me makes you look good to Professor Gaunt? / Theo: Yes. It's study time.)

Then all hell breaks loose when Harry find a strange notebook marked TMR—

Harry: Hey Professor Gaunt?

LV: Yes, Mr. Potter?

Harry: I found this odd notebook in the girls bathroom—

LV: What were you doing in the girls—Oh never mind what book is it?

*Harry hands him the diary horcrux*

LV: …Where did you get this?

Harry: In the girls bathroom…

LV: Which bathroom?

Harry: 2nd floor…

LV: Where?

Harry: In the toilet…

LV: The toilet?!

And then later when LV figures out how his horcrux got anywhere near Albus Dumbledore. Oh boy! Lucius would be in for it worse than in canon.

[metal-mouse]

Because You're Mine

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC (m/f pairing)

themes: smut. troping tropeily. ye olde patch him up and then bang him.

warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. p in v. unprotected sex. fingering. horrendous pull out game. possessive!Ominis. someone threatens to dose you with a love potion. blood. mentions of violence. everyone is aged up.

summary: 3.9k word count. You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.

note: Had a dream about this recently and decided to share it as a treat and also sometimes the best way to break through writer's block is to lean on the tropiest of tropes. Come get y'all juice. left MC house as ambiguous - I'm very Slytherin coded my b. i take liberties on what kind of undergarments they wear. Not an ounce of editing to be found.

@anto-pops @localravenclaw look guys i finished it

You didn’t look up from your book as the door to the Room of Requirement groaned open. There were only two people who knew of this room besides you, and as Professor Weasley hadn’t stepped foot in it since your fifth year, that left only one person. 

“Hello Ominis.” You called out your greeting, nearing the end of the page. He didn’t respond, which made you look up. You dropped the book and sat up straight at the sight of him. His cheeks were pink, there was a gash on the bridge of his nose which was steadily dripping blood, and one of his eyes was beginning to swell shut. Worry filled you, as your mind went to all of the worst case scenarios for what could have caused this. You stood up and hurried towards him, urging him to sit down on the sofa you had just been occupying. 

“Hello.” He said finally, in a dejected voice. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, a table appearing next to you with a bowl of water and some cloths. You very gently took his jaw in your hands as you tilted his head up to inspect his wounds. The cut on his nose was deep, and now that you were up close you could see his nose was slightly crooked. His pain was very evident, and his frown likely wasn’t making it any better. 

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.” Ominis hissed as you turned his head to get a better look at his eye. You were fairly certain his cheekbone wasn’t broken, which was more than you could say for his poor nose. 

“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his irritated sarcasm. If anything, it only suggested to you that he was fine beyond the wounds on his face and possibly a bruised ego. You weren’t sure if you had the skill to repair his nose. In the last year, you’d taken to spending more time in the hospital wing with Nurse Blainey. You’d assisted her during a detention once, and she had been more than happy to show you some of the healing arts. You knew the spell… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try? 

“I got into a fight.” He said, skirting around your question. 

“Well, obviously. I would love some detail, if you’re willing to provide. When Sebastian comes around all beat up like this it makes sense, but you mostly keep your hands to yourself,” You said while taking one of the cloths and gently pressing it to his nose, “hold that. I’m out of wiggenweld, I’m going to brew some.” His hand replaced yours as he held the cloth to staunch the blood dripping from his nose. You looked down at his uniform. His shirt and tie were covered in blood.

“Is detail truly important? I was in a fight, and now I’m here.” Ominis’ voice was muffled from the cloth. You poured some water into the cauldron atop your potions station. He was usually very open with you, content to tell you all of his deepest thoughts. Somewhere deep in your mind you wondered if this fight had somehow been caused by you. He had gone to Hogsmeade today with Sebastian, and Rookwood’s Ashwinders still tried to prey on you. You prepared your Horklump juice and Dittany leaves, waiting for the water in the cauldron to begin bubbling. It was strange that he would keep something like that from you, even if he didn’t want you to worry. 

“It’s clearly bothering you a lot, Ominis.” You said softly. He made an angry noise and didn’t respond. Now that the cauldron was bubbling, you added the ingredients and stirred the correct amount of times. You turned away to let it brew until it was ready, and returned to Ominis’ side. You wordlessly took the cloth from him and pulled it aside. It was drenched in blood, but it had mostly stopped the bleeding coming from both his nostrils and the gash on the bridge of his nose. 

“Ouch!” He hissed as you reached up and gently poked at his nose. 

“Stay still. It’s broken. Does anything else hurt?” You mumbled, climbing into his lap and holding his face steady with one hand. You fumbled for your wand, and he let out a little panicked breath and shook his head a little.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his good eye widening slightly.

“The Wiggenweld can’t straighten a broken nose. Don’t move. Episkey!” You said. He yelped as his nose cracked back into its normal position and the gash healed. You nodded in approval, pleased that the spell had worked. You’d never cast it beyond Nurse Blainey’s watchful eye. 

“There. I bet you can breathe a little better now.” You said, removing yourself from his lap to check on your potion. Ominis took a long, very audible breath. You watched him as he reached up and felt his nose. He looked absolutely miserable. Your lips pressed together in a frown, it was worrying how little information he was willing to divulge. 

“Have you seen Sebastian?” He asked. 

“No, I thought he was with you.” You said, scooping some of your completed wiggenweld potion into a glass. Anxiety briefly pulsed in your chest, worrying that whoever had attacked Ominis had also gotten Sebastian. No. He wouldn’t have come to you unless he knew Sebastian was safe. 

“He never met me. Must be with Violet.” He snorted, sounding absolutely furious with his friend. You tilted your head, making a small sound of agreement. Violet McDowell was Sebastian’s particular flavour this week after you’d forbidden him from asking Poppy Sweeting on a date. You had promised him swift and painful retribution if he had even looked at Poppy without the intent of marrying her and loving her forever. 

“Here. Drink this.” You said, handing Ominis the glass full of wiggenweld. You crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee balancing him as he drank. The bruising around his eye faded, and he sighed with relief as he set down the now empty glass. You stayed crouched before him, your fingers drumming on his knee as a sign that you would love an explanation. 

“You really can’t just let it go?” He asked. 

“I’m sorry, I’m worried. It’s frightening when you get hurt.” You squeezed his knee a little. He let out a little sight, his frown softening.

“No, please don’t apologize. It should be me apologizing, I can see how someone arriving covered in blood would be worrying - especially for you.” He put his hand over yours. You stood then, setting your wand to the side as you settled down beside him. 

“If you really don’t want to tell me what happened, please just tell me if this is going to be a recurring problem.” You said in compromise, taking his hand again. He looked deep in thought, clearly battling with his inner thoughts.

“I heard two sixth-years plotting about how they were going to slip you a love potion.” Ominis said finally. You blinked in surprise. Out of everything that could have come out of his mouth, that had been the one you least expected. 

“A love potion?” You echoed. He nodded, and you admired the rage on his face. He’d fought two boys purely because they wanted to give you a love potion. You fought the smile spreading on your lips. For someone who was awfully composed, he was certainly prone to his jealous moments. 

“Yes. A love potion. They’re lucky I haven’t gone directly to the Headmaster. I should have them both expelled.” He sneered. Your face went hot at the arrogance in his voice. You leaned in, loosening his bloody tie and tossing it to the side.

“You’re covered in blood.” You informed him. He wasn’t really listening to you at all, instead he was caught up in his own rage. You took that opportunity to unbutton his shirt so you could remove it and try to clean the blood off. 

“Foolish, impudent worms. Gryffindors always think they’re entitled to that which is not theirs.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves when you tugged on his shirt. He may not have been paying attention to you, but you were hanging onto his every word. That which is not theirs? That statement certainly held some heavy implications. You were grateful he’d stepped in of course, love potions were risky and you did prefer to make your own decisions.

 Ominis continued his monologue, describing precisely what he had done to the Gryffindor boys for their crime. You took a clean cloth and dampened it to wipe the blood off his neck and chest. He’d been exceptionally cruel to the boys, and every word he spoke had your heart beating faster. It was becoming difficult to pay attention to your cleaning. He’d taken their threat personally, and had essentially destroyed them for it. Broken their wands, hanging them upside down from a tree, blackened eyes, he had truly done a number on them. Out of your little trio he was widely regarded as the most peaceful, with Sebastian being the most violence-prone and you falling somewhere between the two. He was incredibly protective of you, something you’d discovered even when your friendship had only just begun to bloom. 

His hand closed around your wrist suddenly, and you realized you had stopped moving. You looked at his face, his hair was a mess, his cheeks were still pink, and he held an expression you’d never seen before. You were suddenly desperate to break the silence. His other hand lifted to your cheek, his fingers delicately tracing along your jawline. 

“They can’t have you.” He whispered, his fingers moved down your neck slowly. Your breath hitched at this display of possessive intimacy that you had never seen before. You and Ominis had your fair share of intimate moments, but this? Never anything like this. This was an entirely new side to him. It was something you’d expect of Sebastian, the man who moped over girls he’d barely been involved with for longer than a week, but never Ominis. You didn’t know what to say. When you had first crossed that border between friendship and something more, it had been relatively laid back. You went for walks together, bought each other sweets and butterbeers from Hogsmeade, and spent late nights in each other’s arms in the Room of Requirement or the Undercroft. This change was almost as unexpected as its impact on you. You knew deep down that this should not be making you so aroused.  

“Where has thi–'' You were cut off when Ominis leaned in and kissed you. You dropped the cloth from your hand as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. You draped one arm behind his neck, and rested the palm of your other on his cheek with your fingers in his hair as you matched his passion. It wasn’t rough, so much as it was claiming. His cold hands pressed against the skin of your back making you gasp and arch against him. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving so sinfully your core was steadily aching now. You knew precisely what that tongue was capable of, and you’d grown to anticipate it. Dream about it even. 

His rapidly warming fingers stroked your sides as he brought them under your front and withdrew them from your shirt entirely. As Ominis began to unbutton your shirt, you began to lightly rock your hips to create some friction between you and the bulge in his trousers. He let out a low groan and proceeded to rip your shirt open. Your eyes snapped open as you sat back a little bit in surprise, but he pulled you back against him with a single tug of your shirt. His hands went to your chest, and he let out a dark laugh against your mouth when he felt only skin. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt. His mouth lowered and he left hot, wet kisses and little nips down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t contain the small moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips. 

Ominis’ tongue ran along your collar, and his hands roamed to your backside where he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up more. The hand you had in his hair shot to the back of the sofa to brace yourself. You cried out as he bit down on the side of your breast. His tongue delicately swiped out licking the hurt he’d just caused. He held you up with one arm, his other hand running along your backside and between your legs. The fabric of your trousers was disappointingly thick, and you felt far too constrained while wearing them. His hand moved to cup your breast as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive nipple. He stopped suddenly, his hands falling to your waist as he pushed you back slightly. 

“Take off your trousers.” He commanded. The bark in his voice sent a wave of heat to your core. You stood up, fumbling with the buttons before finally pushing them down. He reached out and made a sound of displeasure when his hands ran over your underwear. He hooked his thumbs in the waistline and yanked them down. You stepped out of your trousers and undergarments, and Ominis checked to make sure you’d done precisely what he had wanted. He made no move to remove his trousers. You stared at his bulge desperate to see him undressed. It wasn’t fair that you were now bare in front of him, and he was still half-dressed. 

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded in an attempt to get him to take his trousers off. 

“As reluctant as I am to deny you, don’t you think you’ve taken enough care of me today?” Ominis’ lips twisted into an arrogant smile, as he turned you around and pulled you back. You fell into his lap. One of his arms looped around you pulling you back against his chest. His lips pressed to your neck, leaving kisses and small bites all along the smooth column. He pushed your legs open wide, biting down hard on the flesh of your shoulder. You cried out, your eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable pain. One hand ran along the inside of your thigh, and the other stayed planted on your belly. 

“Those fools think they could have this. That they could have what is mine.” His breath was hot on your neck. You whined as his hand stroking your thigh got closer and closer to where you wanted it. 

“Please Ominis.” You complained when his fingers brushed next to your wet and aching center but he didn’t touch it. Your lip curled, two could play at this game. You began to rotate your hips slowly, grinding down on the bulge in his pants. Your hands covered his and you moved them to where you wanted them to be. One between your legs on your heat, the other cupping your breast. He huffed out a laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chided. 

“I thought you wanted to prove I’m yours.” Now this spurred him on. Without warning he curled two fingers inside of you. Your back arched as you let out a gasp and Ominis began to pump his long fingers deep inside of you, ensuring the heel of his palm pressed against your clit while he worked. While his fingers curled against your sweet spot, you shamelessly rutted against his palm to elevate you even higher into ecstasy. 

“Is that better, darling?” He asked, nibbling on the back of your ear. 

“Uh huh.” You moaned, nodding your head. You wished you could kiss him. You wanted to face him and have him buried deep inside of you. You would have turned around if this didn’t feel so fucking good. There was something about him being in complete control and doing what he wanted with you. You weren’t even tied up, yet you felt useless to do anything to pleasure him beyond grinding against his bulge. There was a tantalizing pressure building inside of you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Ominis seemed to have realized as he pressed further into you and his fingers kept up the exact same pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat. 

“Right there?” He asked. You nodded against him, unable to form a coherent thought. You writhed against him, pressing his palm hard against your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you fell over the edge and bolts of pleasure made your toes curl. You let out a sinful scream that may have been his name. Ominis didn’t stop, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand until your knees clamped together and he withdrew. You were a panting mess as he gently guided you to lay on your back. You heard the sound of his belt hitting the ground, and you opened your eyes and watched him pull down his trousers. You moaned at the sight of his cock springing free, delightfully pink and large. 

Ominis knelt on the couch between your knees, lowering himself over you. Impatient and greedy, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to press your lips to his. You were hungry for him, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip prompting him to open up for you. You were certain the way he tasted would stay with you for the rest of your life, so damn sweet and addicting. Reaching down, you gently wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it with your entrance. Slowly, Ominis pressed into you with a low moan. You were distracted from your kiss at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He always went slow when he started, knowing it drove you crazy. Once he was sheathed fully inside of you, he stayed completely still aside from the hand that laced in your hair lifting your head again to press a sweet kiss against your lips. 

“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered as his forehead rested against yours. His eyes snapped open at this, his fingers curling so he was pulling your hair. He ground into you, and you choked on a moan. Ominis pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back into you with a husky groan. He hooked his free arm behind your knee, pushing your leg up and out of the way as he settled into a slow and steady rhythm. 

“Of course you have. I fit s-so perfectly, it’s like you were made for me.” The little stammer in his sentence made your heart flutter. You gasped when Ominis rolled his hips forward deepening his thrusts. Your nails scraped across his shoulders as your mind was overtaken by pleasure and thoughts of him. The moans and small praises that came as a steady stream from his mouth paired with his cock hitting every angle inside of you had you on a high you didn’t think possible. 

You arched your back in an attempt to let him deeper inside of you. Despite being connected at your most intimate part, you wanted more. You wanted inside of his heart, inside of his soul. Through your pleasure, you opened your eyes to look upon his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, his mouth hung open and his skin completely flushed, his hair an absolute mess. You loved it. Without warning, Ominis picked up the pace slamming into you without restraint. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders now, forcing him down to kiss you. His arms wrapped around your waist arching your back even further and changing the angle which he fucked into you. Between the feeling of his lips on yours, and his cock inside your already sensitive cunt, you were rapidly tumbling towards another orgasm. When Ominis took one hand from under you and reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit, your head fell back.

“Come.” Ominis ordered, and you didn’t even have it in you to scream this time. Ominis muttered a string of curse words as your walls clenched around him and you rose up to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder. It was almost painful how hard he had made you come, and some primal part of you needed him to share in that feeling. He kept his steady pace, not faltering once as he chased his own pleasure with a great moan. The hand that had been rubbing you clamped around your neck and squeezed. You watched him and saw in his face he was close. You met his thrusts, matching his rhythm. His chest heaved and a light sheen of sweat had formed across his body. In that moment you were certain that it wouldn’t matter if someone gave you a love potion, Ominis was all you’d be able to see. 

“Yours, Ominis.” You whispered, incapable of telling him truly what you were thinking. His fingers dug into you and his grip on your neck tightened. Almost there. You watched in awe as his head dropped and he let out a guttural groan that slightly resembled your name. His cock twitched and his body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you with shallow thrusts. Ominis’ hand let go of your throat, and he collapsed on top of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you wrapped your arms around him holding him tight to your chest. You pressed kisses to the top of his head and he let out a wordless groan. After a few moments passed, Ominis slowly pulled out leaving you feeling empty.

“We should have conjured a bed.” He mumbled. You let out a little laugh as one appeared next to the sofa. Ominis rolled over, taking you with him so that you were laying on his chest instead of him atop of you. You knew that you should get up and probably clean yourself off, but with his arms around you and your genuine concern about your ability to stand, you were content to just stay. 

“Maybe you should get into more fights.” You sighed, reveling in the lovely feelings of your afterglow. He laughed, gently rubbing your back.

“If men don’t learn how to behave, I just might.” He said. You could do without him getting injured, but if this was how he reacted when he was jealous or feeling possessive? You could definitely get behind that. 

“I’ll be here when you do.” You sighed, thinking about how you should really restock on your wiggenweld potions. 

“And, for the foreseeable future, I will be tasting your food and drink before you.” Ominis said, making you snort. 

“What am I, the Queen of England? I don’t need a food taster, Ominis, if anything I’ll just start carrying around an antidote to love potions.” You told him.

“You can be my Queen.” He grinned at you.

“You’re not allowed to speak with Sebastian anymore, he’s rubbing off on you.” You sat up a little bit to get a better angle as you looked down at his face. 

“That’s your job, Darling.” 

“My point has been proven.” You smiled widely at the sound of his laughter. When you were with Ominis is when you were happiest. You were safe, comfortable, and content. You were in love, and you were his.

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 5.4k words]

Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things. You were just afraid.

In which, against the wishes of his staunchly pure-blood supremacist family, Ominis Gaunt befriends you, a naive Muggle-born Hufflepuff, and his life inexplicably changes.

Or, what happens when a pure-blood from an anti-Muggle family falls in love with a Muggle-born?

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant.

[read on AO3, read on Wattpad] [NEXT]

TW: familial abuse, blood/ injury, torture, fantasy prejudice/ racism.

1: Strawberry Laces

He calls you Gibberish, because sometimes that's all you speak.

In first year, Ominis remembers crossing your path after the Sorting ceremony. You, a shaky little Muggle-born, near no knowledge of the magical world and its machinations, and the depths of its cruelty. You, who only enjoyed wonder in everything: every moving painting, the candles that floated untethered, and the way the air hummed with something else, something ethereal. He remembers hearing your distinctive voice in the foyer outside the Great Hall.

He remembers how you, somehow, managed to get lost.

Your upbeat curiosity pealed like a bell amongst the sombre tension of the first-year Slytherins. For some reason, your hair is what Ominis remembers best. Later he would find out it was thick, bouncy wild curls pinched into two pigtails at the side of your head, but the first thing he recalls is the smell, faintly of something saccharine.

"You're in the wrong place."

A pause, presumably as you realised he was addressing you. "Aren't we going to the form rooms?" you asked, that high-pitched voice like birdsong at dawn. It was hard to forget, given the nervous squeal you made when you were called up to be Sorted. It was already ingrained into his head.

"You're meant to be going to the Hufflepuff common room," he said, frowning. Form. What was a form? He pointed his wand at the Hufflepuffs heading the other way through the hall. "Your house is over that way."

"Oh!" You giggled, a sickly sweet noise, and headed over. "Thanks!"

How did you even get them mixed up? Ominis still doesn't know. He didn't think about you again until the next day, when term officially began Charms. By chance, he was seated next to you. That smell again, that voice.

"Have no fear, Master Gaunt," cheered Professor Ronen, "I will be giving you more practical assignments, so you don't have as much writing to do."

That was some consolation, he supposed. Practical assignments played to his best strengths.

When Ronen moved on to check Adelaide's technique, Ominis heard your chair squeak. Heard the hiss of your clothes as you peered over. Something rattled on your face – glasses.

"It's... Ominis, right?"

He pursed his lips, displeased at the interruption. "Can I help you?"

"You're an actual wizard?"

"... What?"

"I mean, you know, you were born into this magic thing."

A pure-blood, is what you meant. "Yes. What of it?"

"That's great, because I just wanted to know... erm... which way around does the wand go?"

That had to be a joke. "You can't be serious."

"S-Sorry, I swear I'm not pulling your leg." Pulling your leg? You laughed nervously. "It's just— my wand is a little crooked, and it doesn't have a handle, like yours— so I don't actually know if I'm holding it the right way up or not, and I don't want to blast myself in the face."

A wave of that saccharine soap again. Ominis wrinkled his nose and continued practicing Wingardium Leviosa. Swish and flick. "Can you really not tell?"

"No..."

You sounded genuine. Not joking.

Hmm. Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things.

You were just afraid.

"It's the tapered point that's the end."

"They're both thin."

"Let me feel it."

You hesitated. "Feel— it?"

"Well I can't look at it, can I?"

Another moment of hesitation. An intake of breath.

"Oh!" You nearly blew out his eardrums. "Sorry. You're blind!"

"Well spotted."

"I didn't notice."

"I figured."

You made an indignant noise and handed it over. His senses immediately flooded. It was an intimate sensation, to hold someone else's wand, especially that of a near-stranger. To feel the springy wood beneath his fingertips, the coarse grains of the wood. A light wood, airy. He was no expert on wands, and certainly no Ollivander, but he'd been touching and feeling things long enough to recognise details most sighted people would miss.

Yes, it was crooked, an odd shape for an odd person. He drew his thumb up the wand's janky spine.

"That's the top." He held the handle and offered it back to you. "There."

"Brilliant. Okay." You took the wand back. Cleared your throat. "Here goes then. Wingardium Leviosa!"

Something shifted beside him. A soft fabric drew up against his leg, raising higher and higher, past his head—

"Wait," Ominis spluttered, "is that my satchel?"

"It didn't— oh!" Panic fluttered through you. "No, no, no! Stop, wand! Un-Wingardium Leviosa! Erm, Spellus Stoppus?"

He didn't know how you did it, but even when he told you the right orientation, still you managed to point it the wrong way, the tip facing the bag by his chair, and Professor Ronen had to instruct you on the correct way by using chalk to mark the right end – after he got Ominis' bag down from the ceiling.

There are so many things he still doesn't understand about you.

Weeks into first year, when he'd learnt to adapt to your strange, Muggle quirks, your funny language and unwittingly explosive efforts in other classes, the two of you were doing homework on the lawn with Ominis' Slytherin dormmate, Sebastian Sallow. Sebastian thought you odd, too, but he had more exposure to Muggles than Ominis did – certainly more than the anti-Muggle disdain he received at home – and quickly warmed to your jolly attitude.

"It's strange. My dad hears all the confectionary chatter from America. Apparently this thing called peanut butter is making waves over there now." You grounded the sugar quill with your teeth – Ominis could hear it like a second heartbeat. "Doesn't that sound disgusting?"

"It does," marvelled Sebastian. "Butter and peanuts? What a strange combination."

"I know!" You rolled onto your back – and Ominis caught it again. Your scent. So intrinsically tied to you that every fresh wave made him feel comforted somehow. "You can't just put those two things together!"

"Your soap," Ominis blurted, and the conversation paused so abruptly that his cheeks heated. "What is it? It doesn't smell like anything I know."

"Oh, yes." Your voice was contemplative, sheepish as you pushed up your glasses. "I brought it from home. It reminds me of my family. Smells like our confectionary shop."

That didn't answer the question, and by his expression, you knew it.

"It's strawberry laces! You know? They're strawberry-flavoured, and they look like laces..."

"What in Merlin's name is a strawberry lace?"

"It's a type of candy! They're chewy and sweet!"

"Are they laces for your shoes?"

"No! That's just the shape of them."

Sebastian leant over crinkly parchment. "Do you mean red liquorice?"

"Yes!" You belted it so loud Ominis fell back. "Sorry! Sorry, yes. Red liquorice. That's its proper name."

"Then why didn't you call it red liquorice?"

"... Because it's strawberry laces. That's what we call them. It's my favourite treat."

"But that makes no sense! Why not just call it what it is?"

"Is it a Muggle thing?" Sebastian asked.

"No." A beat. "Maybe?"

Ominis scoffed. "You talk so much nonsense I can barely understand you sometimes."

You spat out your tongue. "Oh yeah, Ominis Gaunt? Mister, I Cast Whoopy-Doopy-Goopy to make your Thingimajig Ringadingdong?"

He spluttered, exasperated. "I don't sound like that! That's— that's just gibberish!"

"... Wait, is gibberish an actual language? Because goblins speak Gobbledegook, so..."

Sebastian howled with laughter. Your naivety was kind of adorable.

"The only one who speaks gibberish here," Ominis said, going back to his wandwork, "is you."

"Hmph!" You enunciated your indignation with such purpose. "Then maybe I'm fluent!"

And you were. You still are.

Neither Ominis nor Sebastian let you live it down, and the effects rippled throughout the first years. Sebastian's sister Anne found you adorably strange and joyfully brazen. Your Hufflepuff housemates enjoyed your humour and shenanigans. Even outside of your mismatched little groups, others in the the year, like Amit Thakkar and Garreth Weasley, thought you were a hoot, the silliest Muggle-born they'd ever met. Gibberish was your native language, and they all agreed. Soon everyone gave you the nickname. At one point it became Gibby. You pouted at each mention at first, but you grew fond of it eventually – then wearing it like a badge of honour. You adopted it, made it your own.

And even into second and third year, when the magical world became more familiar, you were Gibby.

Of course, you were never Gibby when Ominis wrote home. You were never anyone. It didn't take Ravenclaw wisdom to clock that his friendship with you was never considered proper. Pure-bloods, you learnt as quickly as he did, were the superior blood-status, and Muggle-borns the dregs left to rot at the bottom of the scummy barrel. That Mudblood was a slur of the lowest calibre. Ominis was shrewd enough to lie by omission in his letters back home, when his parents demanded to know about his friends and alliances. He simply never mentioned you at all, and all your adventures were given to Sebastian.

That didn't stop them from finding out.

"Who is she?"

Father had marched him to his study, made him sit. Even though a fire roared in the hearth, the place was cold, a slick tar against his skin. Even in the plushest chair, a high-back velvet with curling arms, he was the most uncomfortable he'd ever been. Even though he was blind, he could feel his parents' gaze like the tips of a thousand knives, pressed to the soft flesh of his throat.

"She's— no one."

"Don't lie to me," snapped his father. His mother was silent but complicit, by the way she paced from wood to carpet to wood again. "Edwin Malfoy said his son mentioned you frolicking around the school with some Hufflepuff. A Muggle-born."

There was no way he could deny it. Damn Peregrine Malfoy. They weren't in the same year group at school; why did he have to mention you at all? Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? It had been three years already – what was another four?

Ominis contemplated what to say, urging his fingers to still, his toes to flatten. He could not betray his fear, betray the sudden rising heartbeat, the clamminess of his palms, nor the pure, unadulterated dread that roiled through him.

"It's— it's just Gibby," he forced out as calmly as he could.

"Gibby?" shrilled his mother.

"Not her real name," Ominis said quickly. "It's actually—"

"But she's Muggle-born?" his father demanded.

"Yes, but—"

"Have we taught you nothing, boy? Muggles, and their filthy spawn, are weak. Muggle-born magic is diluted, and therefore they are not worthy to wield it."

His mother was sobbing in the corner, like this extended hand of friendship he'd given to you, this supposed error, was grievous enough to tear a hole through her heart.

"Our bloodline is sacred. We are descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin himself! When you choose to associate with these disgusting Mudbloods," he spat the word, "you are sending a message that these interlopers can take our land, our magic and our privileges. They can encroach on what is rightfully ours. Did you know they used to burn witches? Even though, in every way, we are superior to them?" His father drummed impatient fingers on the marble mantelpiece. Each clack sent more and more terrified shivers down Ominis' spine. "A good thing Noctua went missing. Spending too much time with her addled you. Now we must have a more formal hand in your education."

Ominis didn't know how to respond to that. How could they say that about Aunt Noctua? "What do you—?"

A knock at the door cut through his words – Ominis immediately recognised the knock's low timbre. His older brother. Marvolo. Panic rendered him paralysed.

"Come in," called his father.

Ominis heard his brother's footsteps. Heard the cruelty of his smile.

"Is it time, Father?"

"Yes. Take him downstairs."

Ominis didn't speak. There was no point. Marvolo, of all his older siblings, was the cruellest, an exact replica of their father who despised Muggles and Muggle-borns, despised Noctua, and revered the family name and the bloodline as divine, rather than simply blood and sinew and a surname. His grip on Ominis' shoulder was hard enough to draw blood, curled into the muscle like claws.

They all went downstairs, silent. Ominis had never been to this part of the house before – sometimes, when the moon was highest, when he stowed quietly to the kitchens for a midnight nibble, he heard screaming. At first he thought it his imagination, the night playing tricks on his keen senses.

When he descended into the cellar, he realised for the first time that it was not the night's whims having their fun. The dark, after all, had never been so wicked to him before.

The smell was the first thing that hit him. A strong, tangy scent, coppery and unpleasant. Blood. He couldn't help a sharp intake of breath, which only left the taste on his tongue. The chill was second, as bone-deep as a tundra. By the echo of breath, the ceiling was low and poorly lit, for his father cast a Fire charm at the braziers besides the doorway.

There was a ruffle of cotton. A low murmur. Marvolo's grip ceased, and he roughly shoved Ominis forwards.

"Do you know what's in front of you?"

Tremoring, Ominis reached for his wand. In the time he'd bought it at Ollivander's, it had become something special to him. A way to navigate the castle, yes, but it was much more than that. Almost sentient. It seemed to know how he was feeling and how to react to it, just as it did now, pulsing like a wild heartbeat beneath his fingertips. At eleven he'd been sceptical of the phrase 'the wand chooses the wizard', but now he believed there was truth in it. His wand had shown him that magic was in the air, all around him – all he had to do was draw on it.

He reached out, trying to fit together the scattered pieces of feedback. The ruffles and strangled breaths and scratch-scratch of rope. The cold, as sharp as the ice they used to keep fruit and meat fresh. The overwhelming smell of blood and dirt.

"Is—" He shouldn't have second-guessed himself, not with his family present, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing, smelling, tasting, what he was potentially beholding. "Is that a person trussed up?"

"You missed an important factor," said his father. "This is no person. This is mud."

A Muggle.

The Muggle whimpered. There was some gag around their mouth, and yet Ominis deciphered every note of fear.

"But this is dangerous!" He went to hide his wand, but Marvolo's hand stopped him. "You shouldn't have brought—"

"We can do what we want," Marvolo said. "We're Gaunts, little brother, and this scum before you requires humbling."

Ominis swallowed bile. Perhaps errantly, your voice hummed in his mind then. Your laugh. He imagined hearing it. Imagined it was you tied to the floor.

"No," he said at once. "I won't do it."

"The Cruciatus Curse has been used to subdue our enemies for centuries." Pride flowed through his brother's words. "You should be overjoyed to have this opportunity. Your siblings and I were thrilled with our first Muggles."

They've tortured innocent people before. All his brothers and sisters – they'd all done it.

"But— I can't hurt them. T-They've done nothing wrong to me. They're just—"

"They are worms beneath our boots, and their very existence is an abomination." Marvolo gave him a rough jerk. "I taught you how to use Crucio."

Yes, but Ominis swore it was only for self-defence.

When he didn't reply, Marvolo spoke, "So cast it now, on the Muggle."

Ominis shook his head. Fear and panic ran his mouth dry. "I can't."

"You will, or so help me, boy, you'll be a disgrace to the family," muttered his father. "Cast it."

"No."

"Cast. It."

"I won't."

Marvolo's laugh rang out. "I didn't realise your spine was made of cotton, Ominis."

But Ominis was made of steel in that moment, for he couldn't imagine a better reason to defy his family than for the sake of Muggles and Muggle-borns. For you.

"I won't cast it."

"Then you clearly need some encouragement." And before Ominis could even process what that meant, Marvolo yelled, "Crucio!"

It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pain, as he understood, was simply a reflex of the body to let the brain know something, somewhere, was wrong. A warning sign to cease whatever behaviour was causing it.

This was pain with no epicentre. There was no singular point that was bowing to the most pressure. This was all-encompassing and never-ending. This was his stomach and chest and heart, his brain and lungs, from the tips of his fingers to the knobs of his shoulders and knees and the ends of his toes. Every part of him, alight, doused in oil and set on fire through the concentrated rays of the sun.

Nowadays he doesn't remember that moment very clearly. The anguish was so great, he must've blacked out once or twice. Marvolo held it for a long time, longer than he needed to ingrain his foul teachings. All Ominis does remember is the pain, so acute that words fail to describe it, even to this day.

And the thought, back then, that his family could cause such pain, tore something inside him he would never be able to stitch back up.

When his brother released the curse, Ominis was curled up on the floor. Something wet lay beneath his cheek. Perhaps sweat. Perhaps spit. Perhaps blood, his own or the Muggle's. Perhaps even piss, for the curse had been too much for his bladder to handle. Every nerve ending on his skin was trembling. He'd let go of his wand somewhere in the room, and even now he couldn't sense it, like the pain had burned a hole where instead should be that bond.

"That is a Gaunt," said his father, pride sugaring his tone. "Your brother didn't hesitate."

Marvolo's voice was warm with mockery. "I have no qualms using the Cruciatus Curse on you, little brother, if it will teach you a valuable lesson."

What lesson could that possibly be? In the dizziness, Ominis couldn't untangle what the crucial moral was. It was a puzzle he couldn't solve, and perhaps never would.

"Would you like me to cast that on you again?"

"No!" Ominis managed to weep. He dribbled as he did, and shame burst through him. "N-No, please."

"Then get up," Marvolo hauled him to his feet, whether he was ready or not, "and cast it on someone who really deserves it."

Ominis is ashamed of the memory that follows. Sometimes he wishes he could alter it, pull it out of his mind like brittle thread and snap it into pieces, but then he wouldn't remember the valuable lesson he did learn that day. That his family were a cruel peoples.

And, as he raised his wand at his victim, that he was cruel now too.

"Crucio!"

Back near the end of third year, Ominis had found you climbing a tree on the school grounds. The wind was high and fretful – like his nerves, hearing you so far up, that carefree giggle carried on the current like bird's wings.

"Is that you, Gibby?"

"Ominis!" you chirruped. "You have to come up. The view is great!"

"I bet it's really swell."

"Sorry, sorry! I mean— oh, just come up! It's amazing, I promise!"

"You know you have a broom, right?" he called up, exasperated. "It's much safer than climbing trees! Where you could fall."

"I know! But this is all I've got back home, so I'd better get used—"

You let out a noise. The tree rumbled. There were four hard knocks that sent terror through him like lightning and a sudden thump on the ground like a knife to the gut. He rushed over to where you were crying out, breathless with pain. He'd never heard such a keening sound before, not in a physical, raw sense, where he could almost feel it himself. Pain that was almost too burdened to bear.

"Ugh, you're so foolish!" He nocked his wand skywards and sent out a flare. Hopefully someone would see it. "What have you hurt?"

You were in too much agony to reply – something had to be broken.

"I'm going to feel you, okay?"

You made a straggled noise he took for consent and pressed a hand to your arm. It came away wet. Blood. A broken and torn arm for certain then. You wheezed, too. Perhaps a broken rib. He pressed gently around, searching for the worst sources of pain through the leaf-ridden folds of your robes and shattered remnants of your glasses, but only when he reached forwards, felt the wetness around your upper lip and cheeks, did he realise you were choking from the blood of a broken nose.

He'd never felt a face before, not anyone outside his family. Yours was smaller than he'd expected. Your presence was so loud, so vivid, he'd expected you to match it physically as well. Even in the state that you were he could smell that sweet soap, and for some reason had the sudden urge to touch the rest of your face, explore how you were made, how the world shaped you.

"I'm going to staunch the bleeding." Instead he dispelled the thoughts and pointed his wand, enunciating as clearly as he could, "Episkey!"

A whip-like crack. You shrieked, but after a moment, your hysteria calmed, and he wiped the blood around your nose with his sleeve.

"I—" Tears filtered your winded voice. "I can't... move... my leg."

"It's probably broken too, like every other bone in your body," he retorted sharply. Good thing he'd had advance tutoring for healing spells. "I told you it was dangerous."

"I know," you bleated.

But his anger dissolved. There was no point rubbing it in your face. Whether he was right, or whether you had come down the tree perfectly well, you would've done it anyway.

"Can you last until someone comes to help?" he mumbled, lowering his tone.

"I can last."

"Good. I'll wait with you."

"Promise I... won't look into the light."

Ominis wrinkled his nose. "A sight joke now? Really?"

"No, no... it's a Muggle saying— never mind." A weighted pause. "Thank you."

He scoffed. "For being right?"

"Yes," you said softly, an admission. "But also... for being my friend."

Madam Blainey hurried over eventually and carted you away, cooing over your injuries, admonishing your actions, and Ominis stayed at your side until you drank every last acrid drop of healing potion, and you were fast asleep in the infirmary wards, at peace.

Even though you were silly, frivolous, an oddball who spoke fluent gibberish, he never wanted you to be in such pain again. He certainly couldn't imagine being the cause of it.

Which is why he swore on that day, after the Muggle had long since collapsed on the cellar floor, after his father and mother and brother delighted in his first successful cast of Crucio, that he would never again cause anyone such agony. Least of all you.

So in fourth year, he did his best to ignore you. To create a wide berth. And to find a way to escape his family.

He hung out more with Sebastian, even though his friend was slowly changing, ambitions growing. Both of them were equally matched in many things, like academics and opinions, and with Anne taking suddenly ill, trapped within the bindings of a unknown curse, Sebastian had his own demons about finding her a cure. They explored more outside – the countryside was huge, after all, and Ominis had always found the place intimidating for someone who couldn't see any of it. They lounged in the Undercroft more often – their own hiding spot to where they could escape the stress of school and home life and the increasingly pressing threat of a goblin rebellion. Mostly, Ominis went there to avoid you.

Sebastian quickly noticed you were missing from these adventures, though. Nothing much escaped his notice, even when his sister's illness consumed him – too shrewd to forget the giant girl-shaped gap in their homework brainstorming sessions, or learning questionable jinxes, or snacking on magical sweets. Ominis eventually confessed to what he'd had to do over summer – and what he would do to keep you safe.

"Very noble of you," Sebastian said, the wide, open walls of the Undercroft echoing his voice. "But you didn't have a choice."

"I did." Ominis shot at the dummy, again and again, to channel his frustration. "I chose to hurt that Muggle. I chose to cause them pain. And I couldn't have done it if I didn't want to."

"What else were you supposed to do then? Let your family hurt you again?"

"I should have! What I did to that Muggle... they're probably dead now..."

"Your family would've killed them regardless."

"That doesn't make it better!"

Sebastian yanked Ominis' shoulder, obliging him to stop, to listen. "You're being ridiculous. Your family forced you to hurt that Muggle. Now you're going to self-destruct an entire friendship because of them?"

Anguished panic stripped his insides raw, but he fought to contain it. "If they'll do that to some random person they found on the street, think what they'll do to her! My family isn't like yours, Sebastian. I can't risk Peregrine Malfoy telling on me. I won't."

Sebastian let out a singular, dark chuckle. "Don't you worry about Pretentious Perry. I'll sort him out." He exhaled, softening. "You ignoring Gibby isn't going to do anything but make you both upset. She's tenacious, and too loyal to us. She's just going to keep demanding an explanation until we give her one."

"Then she's going to be disappointed for a long time. Tell her whatever it takes to keep her away from me."

"You can't—" Sebastian let out a frustrated grunt. "You can't make me the mediator between you two."

Ominis turned back to the dummy. "I'm not asking you to. I don't care if you want to be her friend, but I won't. For her sake."

"Yeah? And what about yours?"

Ominis didn't have an answer for that.

He did manage to avoid you all autumn term. An excruciatingly difficult task, because teachers often paired the two of you together now – your chaos matching Ominis' order perfectly well. But he was cold to you, callous when you pried, outright mean when you demanded. You were as tenacious and loyal as Sebastian warned though. No matter what Ominis said, how rude he was, you never gave in.

Eventually the cold shoulder was all he could give emotionally. He was tired of drawing from the hatred that welled inside him, and turning it on you.

Over Christmas that year, Sebastian invited Ominis to stay with his family in Feldcroft, and Ominis agreed. So did the Gaunts, who knew the Sallows, albeit poor, to be a well-bred family, though perhaps less aware of Sebastian's more radical opinions on Muggles and Muggle-borns. It was good to see Anne, too – even sick, weak, body breaking down piece by piece by the curse, she was spirited and stubborn and filled the feminine void that was missing between him and Sebastian.

But she wasn't you. She could never replace you.

"Have you heard from Gibby?" she asked on one of her good days, when Solomon Sallow was mucking out the horses. She was tucked in bed still, wrapped in thick cloths and furs whilst the boys played Gobstones by the foot of her bed. "I miss her enthusiasm for Muggle sweets."

Before Ominis could speak, Sebastian declared, pouring on the smarminess, "They're not talking anymore."

"Oh?" Her curiosity was directed at Ominis. "Why?"

"We fell out," Ominis said through a clenched jaw, hoping his tone was enough to quiet Sebastian. "Nothing else to it."

"You and Gibby? Falling out? What did you do wrong?"

"Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"Because Gibby would sooner stake her own heart than argue with you."

Neither twin pressed, so Ominis didn't answer. Later that week, however, her prodding questions changed to sympathetic disagreement, and he suspected Sebastian gave her enough information to infer his reasoning. Unfortunately, Anne's thoughts on the matter aligned with her brother's, and though she frequently tried to convince Ominis of this fact, most of the time he couldn't stand to listen to it, and he simply walked out of the house.

She would never understand his decision. They did not have his family.

When Ominis returned to Hogwarts for the spring term, however, knowing Anne was partly right about leaving you in this middling state, he resolved no longer to hide behind feeble excuses. Sebastian was slowly seeking solace in the Dark Arts, something Ominis rejected vehemently, but even then there was safety with Sebastian's status that there never was for you.

He had to protect you by any means necessary. That meant it was time to end the friendship for good.

So it wasn't surprising when, on the first day back, he entered the Undercroft and found you standing there.

"Colloportus!"

The lock behind him clicked, the grille sealing shut. This infuriated him to no end – four years and your naivety still preceded you.

"You know I can cast Alohomora—?"

"Expelliarmus!"

The wand flew from his grasp, clattering somewhere to his left.

"That was excessive."

"Was it?" you challenged, coming up to him. Strawberry laces. "You've had the whole of Christmas to think about what a meater you've been, and I'm not going to let you start the silent treatment again."

Meater. Context was a useful thing at filling in Muggle-vocabulary-shaped gaps.

"How did you find this place?" he asked.

"I followed you, last term, when you were not talking to me."

"Why don't, for once, Gibby," he snarled, "you mind your own business?"

"You are my business!" you yelled – and there it was, the first inkling of pain. "Last year you were my best friend. You and Sebastian, and Anne too. Now she's sick and I haven't seen her in months, you refuse to talk to me and Sebastian won't tell me why!"

Ominis pushed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Sebastian had done a terrible job at warding you away. Yes, you had spent more time with other people in your year, like Adelaide and Evangeline and Arthur, and Garreth, Leander and Cressida and even the new girl, Natsai Onai. But still you crawled back to him.

"Like I said, it's not your business."

"I'm not accepting that answer."

"It's the only answer you're getting."

"Is it me?" you flung out. "Did I say something wrong? Did you get fed up with me copying your homework? Or showing Natty around? I know you pretend to despise everyone in that house. Or maybe it's personal? Have I been annoying? Do I smell bad?"

You never smell bad. He opened his hand. "Give my wand back, Gibby."

To your credit, when he asked for the thing that helped him make sense of the world, you retrieved it, no resistance, and placed it into his waiting palm. The brief touch sent a pleasant, unwanted current tingling through his skin.

"Is it family?"

Ominis snatched his hand away. "No."

"It is. It must be. You stayed at Feldcroft all Christmas." You softened. "You know you can tell me anything—"

"Butt out, Gibby."

"Ominis—"

"No. Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once. I'm tired of picking up the pieces after you. I'm tired of your clumsiness and your stupidity. I'm tired of holding your hand and coddling you. This world is cruel, and since you haven't learnt it yet, maybe you will now. You don't need me, and I certainly don't need you. So leave me alone." Then the word slipped out, unbidden. "Mudblood."

Your gasp was drawn out, a long inhale that sucked all the light over an arid horizon. Ominis immediately regretted it. He'd caused that Muggle physical pain, he'd been a silent bystander as you fell off that tree in third year, but emotional pain, the crossing of a line that could never be turned back upon, the shattering of your heart into pieces no spell could mend... that was worse than any Cruciatus Curse.

"T-Take that back," you demanded, holding back a sob. "Y-You take that b-back, right now!"

He didn't. All he did was turn around and cast the Unlocking charm. The grille lifted.

You sniffled. Tears splattered onto the stone. In that moment, your sweetness had been stolen, your brightness dimmed. All because of him.

"You're a beast, Ominis Gaunt," you yelled as the lift churned into motion. "I wish I'd never met you!"

And he left you there, knowing you were right.

[NEXT] <3 [Amazing art by Giselann, Divider credit]

[orqheuss]

Clumsy Love

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader FLUFF)

Summary:

Ominis was supposed to be your best friend, so why did being close to him suddenly make your heart race? *** A relaxing day in the Room of Requirement takes a turn that you never expected. Not that you were complaining, though. Who doesn't love a little bit of dancing?

Word count: 3k

AN: I thought this was a really cute idea, and I love the trope where a character is so emotionally constipated that they don't realize they're in love until a really inopportune moment.

If you wanna listen to something while you read, I have a jazz playlist here BUT, if you want specifics, the two songs that I was thinking of for the swing dancing scene started with "Dream a Little Dream of Me" by Ella Fitzgerald, followed by "In the Mood" by Glenn Miller. (if you want a song for the ending, I suggest "The Face I Love" by Stacy Kent)

You didn’t know what you were expecting to come from your day when you retreated to the Room of Requirement, but it certainly wasn’t what was in front of you at the current moment. 

In all honesty, your day started fairly normal— double potions with the Gryffindors, followed by Charms. It wasn’t uncommon for one of your boys, sometimes even both, to follow you from Professor Ronen’s room to your little sanctuary in the Astronomy tower, and today it seemed that Ominis in particular wanted to bask in your company for a little bit longer. Just Ominis. He seemed to be doing that more often as of late. Be it little lingering touches on your arm when he goes to gather your potion ingredients for you, offering to carry your textbooks to a class that you shared, sitting slightly closer than what was normally deemed appropriate at your house table during supper, or going as far as to fall asleep curled against your arm in History of Magic, he was always around. Not that you minded, of course; he was your best friend, bar Sebastian. 

What you did mind was how your body reacted to his closeness, something that happened completely outside of your control. Every time his skin brushed against yours it was like a swarm of lacewing flies hatched in your stomach, their tiny wings beating harshly against the lining of your gut and scratching all the way up to your brain, making it fuzzy and muddled. Your palms would sweat when he stood close to you, small tremors wracking through your form if his shoulder so much as bumped against yours as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. At one point, Sebastian, noticing the extreme shade of pink that overtook your face one evening in the common room when Ominis’ hand “accidentally” brushed against the bare skin above your knee when he reached for his Astronomy textbook on the table, made a big show of pressing his hand to your forehead and feeling for a temperature, asking if you were feeling alright.The most concerning part, though, was that you had become incredibly clumsy whenever he was around. He could just simply speak your name and you would nearly drop anything you were holding in your hands. Sometimes it was something small like your quill, or a hairbrush, but once, to your, and everyone else in your Herbology classes, displeasure, you had dropped the mandrake you were potting when he whispered in your ear asking for help locating his offending tuber. You were beginning to think that you should go pay nurse Blainey a visit— someone must have cursed you to act like this around the sweet blond boy. There was really no logical reason to be this worked up in his presence, and it drove you mad that not only had your peers begun to notice your little slip-ups, but Ominis had also begun to take note of your strange behavior. 

The worst part of it all, though, was instead of asking if you were alright, or coming to the same conclusion as you about the possible curse, he seemed obnoxiously smug about your reactions to him once Sebastian had the gall to point them out. 

What did he know that you didn’t?

Either way, you had developed a new symptom that day in your Come and Go room. An old gramophone had appeared in the corner of your little sitting area not long after you entered, playing some soft ragtime tune chalk full of brass and jaunty piano that created a lovely ambiance to your impromptu study session. Ominis had started humming along soon after it began, seemingly recognizing the melody. His voice had a lovely timbre to it— something deep and earthy that rumbled in your chest and made your heart race with every lift and fall of the notes. Eyes fluttering shut, the book in your lap quickly lost your interest much like most other things when you were in the Slyrherin’s presence. He had this gravitational pull to him that you couldn’t help but react to; everything in your body screamed that you needed to be in his orbit forever. 

Normally, the smallest of movements from him captured your attention, but you were so enthralled by his angelic voice that you didn’t notice him standing before you, his hand outstretched in front of your face and his palm facing the sky, until that heavenly throat cleared itself. You shook yourself from your hypnotized state, fumbling with the book open in your lap and slamming it closed by accident from the shock before snapping your gaze to his. He was looking down at you with a gleam of mirth in his eyes, the mischievous glint making the oceanic blues glitter like the reflection of stars on the black lake. It was uncanny how well he could meet your gaze, no matter the struggles his disability would normally pose. Ominis chuckled lightly at your squeak of fright, flexing his fingers in your direction again as he spoke, his smile clear in his tone. 

“Care to dance, dearest?” 

Dearest. Your two boys called you little pet names before, nothing more significant than a “dear” or “love” here and there, but dearest? Merlin help you. You had felt your heart pick up its pace around the blond before, but the way his mouth moved around that sweet sounding word made your trusty organ completely stop. 

That was definitely new.

He laughed again, a velvety sound that completely wiped your mind of whatever you were about to say. One of Ominis’ perfect eyebrows quirked up slightly, his teeth biting his lower lip in an attempt to hide his cheeky smirk. 

Your jaw opened and closed like a fish gasping for air as you struggled to find your words again. Detangling one of your hands from the knot that your fingers made on your lap, you carefully placed it in his waiting palm; your heartbeat skipping again at the sight of his long, lithe fingers completely engulfing yours. 

You stuttered around the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Y-Yes! I’d love to.” 

The pretty blond’s smile only grew wider as he pulled you up to stand, his pearly white teeth catching the sun rays streaming through the large skylight above as he pressed his hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer until you were flushed with his chest. You prayed to the gods above that he couldn’t feel how harshly your heart was pounding in your chest. 

Ominis carefully swayed the two of you to the beat of the music, his smooth voice humming softly in your ear again as he moved your bodies to and fro. Your shoulders slowly relaxed as the music picked up in volume, the warm-toned sound of the trumpets backing the warbly voice of the jazzy songstress flowing pleasantly through your ears and curling around the forefront of your mind. The boy started to move a bit more, taking your gentle breath against the junction of his neck as the go ahead to move the both of you in a more pronounced motion. As much as he loved messing with you, he still wanted you to feel comfortable around him. Ominis slowly spun you around, keeping small circles for now and letting himself truly relax into the music. His soft hums pittered off more and more with each passing moment, the sound soon being taken over by his singing voice melding with the lyrics of the song playing. Your heartbeat slowed as a contentedness filled your entire body. There was nothing in the world that you could compare the tonality of his voice to; it was truly divine— the lilt of his accent taking you like a breeze on a cooled, winter morning. 

The music only got livelier the longer the two of you were tangled in the embrace. Saxophones sang alongside the standing bass with each swung note, trumpets called across the recording studio and were answered by the trombones on the other side, the piano plucked through a scattered melody that was finished by the vocalist. All the while, Ominis never faltered in his steps. You had never seen his smile so big before— so full of joy and life. Looking at him was like the sun had finally come out after a long, dreary blizzard. There was nowhere else you wanted to be in that very moment, everything was absolutely perfect. 

As the ragtime piano sped up in tempo, so did your steps. The two of you spun around the large, expansive room, letting the music carry you away into its sweet oblivion. Your skirts gently brushed against Ominis’ calves as he swung your body where he wanted it to go, leading you to the best of his ability without his wand to guide him. You served as his eyes, gently pulling him away from things in your path like end tables or chairs as you climbed up and down the stairs, winding around your vivariums and through the grand, columned hallways connecting each section to the other. It wasn’t a good dance in the slightest, neither of you quite coordinated enough to warrant any applause or win any competitions. More often than not your feet ended up atop of his, but he never once flinched or grumbled at your lack of experience. The wiry boy was completely content in this little bit of chaos— he would happily let even the likes of a graphorn crush his toes if he could keep holding you in his arms like this. Your laughter mingled together, bouncing off the tall cathedral ceilings and ringing like the bells of Hogsmeade on a spring day, the smell of fizzing whizbees from Honeydukes and the tiny bangs of fireworks from Zonkos dancing together in the air. 

All of it came crashing down, however, when you did not see the corner of your wizards chess table come into focus— much too distracted by the way the light of your gas lamps caught the white streaks in his pupil-less eyes just right. One wrong move of your ankle and down you both went, tumbling to the ground in a grand knot. Ominis quickly turned his body to shelter your fall, pulling you closer to his chest in a show of protection as he braced for impact against the cold stone floor. He landed first, a soft puff of air leaving his throat alongside a pained “ooph” as your dead weight pressed against his ribs. You clumsily gathered your bearings, scrambling up to your elbows and a rouged blush stretching from ear to ear as apologies fell frantically from your lips.

“Oh Merlin, I am so sorry, Ominis. How unbecoming of me, let me just—” 

His arms tightened around your waist, his fingertips digging into your sides and keeping you steady and exactly where you were, giving you no room to move from his hold. The contact was near burning, like ten tiny hot coals against your skin. You didn’t think you could possibly blush anymore than you already were. Luckily, it seemed that Ominis was in a very similar state under you. His own cheeks were painted the color of roses, making his birthmarks stand out exponentially more against the normal paleness of his skin tone. You traced the tiny, homemade constellations, casting your eyes up more until they met his unseeing, wide-eyed stare. You had never been this close to the boy's face before— never noticed how deep his eyes were, like two endless whirlpools off the Clagmar coast. They drew you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into his frothing currents. You could see entire coastines in them, the seafoam tides that rolled through his turbulent irises smooth but strong like a riptide. There was no question in your mind that you would be completely content drowning in those waves. 

Your thoughts came to a pause when the most adorable giggle you had ever heard came from the boy underneath you. His eyes began to crinkle at the corners as his smile grew wider, tiny little whimpers of a laugh escaping through his parted lips as the situation at hand began to take shape in his mind. Ominis’ entire face lit up like the sun as he laughed, the volume of his voice rising steadily until loud guffaws wracked through his entire body. The tremors vibrated where you were connected, sending a warming buzz through your system as you too were taken over by uncontrollable laughter. Your head fell to his chest, pressing your temple against his sternum as one of his hands reached upwards and thread its way into your hair. If anyone were to come into the room they would think you both had gone completely loony. Who knows, maybe you had. All you knew, though, was that this was the happiest you had felt in a very long time. 

Your cackles soon slowly pittered down to soft giggles as you straightened your neck, opening your eyes again and gazing at the beautiful boy you were still on top of. You didn’t notice when he had stopped laughing with you, but the look on his face at that very second could have ceased time itself. Ominis’ lips were curled upwards in the softest smile you had ever seen, his eyes gentle and half lidded like a cat content in a sunbeam. You were sure he would be purring right now if he had the ability. He was somehow looking at you in a way that you could only describe as how the moon would look at the earth— like your laughter was the sole reason his world continued to spin on its axis. 

Everything you had been feeling, every physical reaction that had confounded you as of late in regards to the blond suddenly made sense. You had not been cursed to act like a blithering idiot like you had originally thought, the answer was much more simple than that. It was truly idiotic how long it took you to realize the simple fact of the matter: you were in love with him. It wasn’t a shock when you finally pieced it together, if anything the revelation came to you as easy as breathing. You were in love with Ominis Gaunt, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. 

One of your hands shifted slightly to the right, cradling the side of his face and soothing your thumb against his cheekbone as his reached to do the same, brushing the hair that fell from your bun behind your ear and gently holding the side of your jaw that he didn’t already have a hand on. A surge of bravery shocked through your veins like lightning as your eyes narrowed in on the soft curve of his cupid's bow, your face leaning minutely closer and your breath fanning against his lips as his eyes flitted closed. 

Screw prosperity, and screw what was deemed “ladylike.” Right now, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and you didn’t think you would ever get another chance as perfect as this. 

Your lips curled into a smile of your own as you whispered against his skin, mouth a hairs length away and gently brushing against his as you spoke. “I am going to kiss you now, Ominis, if that’s alright.” 

All he could do was nod slightly, his own words nothing but a trick of the wind. As if he would ever deny you, and by extension himself, of that simple pleasure. “Okay…”

And then there was no more space between the two of you. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, both torn, well loved, and worn but still able to fit together no matter how many times your edges are frayed. There were no grand fireworks, nor bursts of stars behind your eyes as your mouths moved in tandem, just the feeling that this was right. This was what was missing from your life all of these years. His hands pulled your face impossibly closer, one set of fingers working their way under your top knot and gripping at your roots as you both poured everything you had been feeling into the other. For once, everything was bliss. 

The kiss ended much sooner than you would have liked it to, but unfortunately as humans you needed to breathe every so often. Ominis’ smile was contagious as he pulled away, his breath fanning heavily across your cheeks as he pressed gentle pecks into your skin. It was like a weight had been lifted off his chest. His subtle gestures of courting had finally worked. 

“I have wanted to do that for so long.” 

You snickered lightly, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “Why didn’t you, then?” 

It was his turn to laugh now, his breathy chuckle your new favorite sound. “It seems I’m just as clumsy with my emotions as you are, my dearest.” 

You both dissolved into giggles again, letting your heartbeats slow back to a normal pace before continuing your activities from before. The gramophone continued to warble from the corner, beckoning you to dance once more with its saccharine song, and who were you to deny its call.

No, it may not have been a perfect dance, nor a perfect first kiss, but it was yours. 

As you clamored off of the fallen blond, cradling his hand in yours as you helped him up from the floor and back into the dancing position you had found yourself in moments ago, you knew one thing for certain: there were definitely going to be more dances, and certainly more clumsiness, to come. 

AN: I won't lie, I don't think this is my best. I still wanted to put it out there though. It's my birthday, pls be nice to me.

***

like what you read? here's more!

[aethon-recs]

So I saw that someone requested Professor Tom but what about Professor Harry? Shouldn't we give him some love to😏😉

Thanks for the ask! I also love the Professor Potter trope. I think Harry would have made a great Hogwarts instructor, whether for Defense or Quidditch coach or even Muggle Studies.

See below for a list of some favorite Tomarrymort fics featuring Professor Potter, arranged by alphabetical order. Here is a link to my previous rec list of Professor Riddle fics.

*

Professor Potter Tomarrymort Recs

Altered Course by @crowcrowcrowthing (T, 12k, complete)

Tom Riddle has a problem. He has so many plans, so many things to learn and accomplish during his time at Hogwarts, but one professor—one charming, talented, maddeningly handsome professor—is determined to get in his way. 

Being seen & being known by Baryshnikov (M, 2k, complete)

Harry had no intentions of being seduced by his student; Tom had every intention of seducing his professor.

Costumes (part 1) / Gowns (part 2) by @neurowriter14 (E, 7k, complete)

Tom has been absolutely and utterly obsessed with his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor since his first year.

Invisible Man by RenderedReversed (T, 10k, complete)

Harry doesn’t need the Invisibility Cloak to be invisible. With an unblemished forehead, he fades into the background—utterly ordinary. Voldemort begs to differ.

I'll Eat Your Heart Out, Sir by @katsitting (E, 18k, complete)

“You smell divine, Professor,” Harry heard Riddle growl, his eyes fluttering open to stare intensely into Harry’s own, breath fanning across Harry’s lips. And then Harry recalled just what the potion was meant to do.

Life tempts, but she is ever sweeter by SpitFire97 (E, 17k, WIP)

Harry Evans, their newly annointed Defense of the Dark Arts Teacher, gets under Tom's skin like no others. It is bitter-sweet, when she learns that she does, too. Quite literally.

Muggle Studies is Economics in Disguise by May_May_0_0 (M, 12k, complete)

Dumbledore acquiesces when Tom Riddle asks for the defense post. Harry stumbles into this AU version of Hogwarts hoping to teach defense. But there is only teaching one spot available: Muggle Studies. Chaos ensues as Muggle Studies becomes everyone’s favorite class. Tom Riddle is enraged, concerned, and… turned on?

My Beloved, My Only by @neurowriter14 (E, 3k, complete)

After a few months, Harry and Tom are professors at Hogwarts. Harry sneaks down to Tom's rooms in the dungeons and soon finds herself there for the night.

Seduction by any other name by Baryshnikov (M, 6k, WIP)

Tom might finally have met his match—his professor.

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP)

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

To Sir, with Love by ShizukaU1 (M, 2k, complete)

Tom is devoted to the Greater Good. And what is greater than the goodness of being bed by Professor Potter himself?

Under the Mistletoe by Anonymous (T, 1k, complete) 

When the entirety of the Hogwarts populace just wants the oblivious Professors to kiss and get it over with, Scorpius, Albus, Rose, and Molly decide to take matters into their own hands.

you alone of all creatures by @duplicitywrites (E, 3k, complete)

There is no place for us in the light, where my robes bear a Prefect’s badge and you are addressed as ‘sir’, and so I have been cornering you, for weeks now, in darkened corridors and dusty, abandoned classrooms.

*

[girl-named-matty]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A masterlist for all of my headcanons and fanfictions that I've written. Please let me know if some of the links aren't working! And buckle up because this is long! 🤍

𝑭𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔

● Passion || Sebastian Sallow (wattpad & ao3) synopsis: It has been six years since Astoria and Sebastian broke up. Both of them are living their best lives away from each other. But when Sebastian finds out that Rookwood is still alive and hunting Astoria down, he leaves his life behind to find her. ● In the Shadow of Her || Sebastian Sallow (wattpad & ao3) synopsis: Matty Ambrose is a simple Muggleborn girl living in London. After the arrival of Professor Fig informing her that she was a witch, she knew Hogwarts was going to be much different than anything she could've ever experienced before and she didn't know what to expect. With friends, rivals, and enemies around every corner, her time at Hogwarts already beginning to be epic. Join Matty as she navigates her way through her 5th year at Hogwarts-will she rise to the occasion, or will the dark secrets of the school and the ancient magic she possesses lead her astray? ● In the Shadow of Love || Sebastian Sallow (wattpad & ao3) synopsis: Matty is returning to Hogwarts for her sixth year at the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry although things are quite different this time around. With no guidance from Professor Fig and the Wizarding world not being in constant peril, Matty has to learn what it's like to be a normal student. On this path, Matty finds herself deeply in love with a fellow classmate, strengthens and finds new friendships, and possible betrayal by the ones she trusts. Join Matty in her sixth year and see the story of love, friendship, action, and betrayal. ● In the Shadow of Magic || Sebastian Sallow (wattpad & ao3) synopsis: After two whirlwind years, Matty was returning to Hogwarts for her final year but this time would be different. She was fighting to maintain control of herself, as she felt the lure of the unknown, the magic, calling her. It tempted her and drew her deeper with each spell cast, each experiment taken a step further from the norm. But she was not alone in fighting for control. Join Matty on her journey through her seventh year with enemies around every corner and view the slow grip of reality loosen as time goes on. (terribly sorry for using the "in the shadow of" trope. hope its not too confusing).

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 - 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔

quick a/n: These are all from over a year ago (I think) and I am lowkey embarrassed about the writing. They're still enjoyable but apologies in advance for how sloppy some of it might be. 😅🤍

Sebastian Sallow ● Sebastian Headcanons | pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | ● Sebastian's Boggart + His reaction to MC's Boggart ● Sebastian x Tall!FMC ● Sebastian x Short!FMC ● Sharing a bed with Sebastian

Ominis Gaunt ● Ominis Headcanons ● Ominis x Tall!FMC ● Ominis x Short!FMC ● Sharing a bed with Ominis

Garreth Weasley ● Garreth Headcanons ● Sharing a bed with Garreth

Leander Prewett ● Sharing a bed with Leander

Amit Thakkar ● Sharing a bed with Amit

Andrew Larson ● Sharing a bed with Andrew

Imelda Reyes ● Imelda headcanons

Poppy Sweeting ● Poppy Headcanons.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 - 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒔

Eleazar Fig ● Professor Fig Headcanons

Aesop Sharp ● Professor Sharp Headcanons

Dinah Hecat ● Professor Hecat Headcanons. pt.1 | pt.2 |

Matilda Weasley ● Professor Weasley Headcanons.

I will write for pretty much any HL character but these are just the ones I have written for before! More to be added. Hope you enjoy 🤍

[wellpresseddaisy]

@greens-your-color

Percy has long been a favorite of mine too. He's peevish and pompous and officious, but he'll also run into a lake fully dressed to get his brother. Headcanon-wise, I always thought he was the one who would wind up most parentified. Not so much with babies, but once the twins, Ron, and Ginny were all pre-school age or above.

Bill was at school by the time Percy was 5, the twins were 3, and Ron was an infant. When Percy was 7 and the twins 5, Charlie was at school with Bill. That's the point, when Ron was about 3, that I can see Molly asking Percy to keep an eye on his little brother. With the twins keeping her distracted, I can see that morphing into Percy being responsible for Ron. I doubt she would have asked anyone not Arthur to keep an eye on the twins for more than about 30 seconds. :)

So Percy is fierce in his protection of his whole family, but especially Ron, who he taught to tie his shoes and hold a fork and figure out reading and maths. I feel like we see that brother when Harry asks him for advice on electives.

(And I'm not trying to vilify Molly here — I think she just got a bit overwhelmed at times and didn't think through leaning on Percy so much. Also there's some birth order psychology stuff that I got very into in high school that's mostly as useful as astrology except for the parts about patterns. Percy kind of restarts the pattern with where he is—he becomes an oldest child, essentially.)

(and now I need to go sit under my desk because you said something really nice about my Ron and Hermione characterization)

If any family is going to be ridiculous enough to have a potentially mythical hairbrush, it's the Weasleys. :) None of the children have ever even seen it, but Molly insists it exists. Somewhere. She got Great Grand Aunt Viola's dressing set when she passed away and she knows she has that dratted brush somewhere.

And Snape...yeah Ron knows people exactly like him and has seen the outside of more traditional relationships. And Hermione, despite not even knowing that sort of thing existed, has always had Snape's number. Truly, though, no one is as vicious as a pair of teenagers. :) This also plays into the 'when Ron makes a joke it comes true' trope.

(and yes, things keep dovetailing with the sub-AUs in ways I didn't quite expect)

I can answer some of these! :)

Severus, as a much younger man, looked at Social Obligations and decided someone else could handle them. Since he'd made a curtsey at Almack's, he could enter into a contract that essentially gave his social life/responsibility for his social conduct into the hands of Narcissa and Lucius. They were already doing it unofficially, so it made some sense to formalize that relationship. All invitations, etc. get routed through the Malfoys so he doesn't have to deal with it. They have an agreement that he only has to appear at 3 large events (2 Malfoy-sponsored and 1 not) and 2 Almack's evenings per calendar year. Anything more and, as Lucius says, he starts chewing the doorknobs.

Tristram Yardley is a rogue and a bounder who thoroughly deserved what he got. After behaving terribly to a very young Severus (he may have had Wickham-esque schemes in mind), he mysteriously disappeared. The next spring everyone commented on how lush Narcissa's roses, herbaceous borders, and herb knot garden were.

For what happened to have Severus so wound up...some of it will have to wait for the appropriate part, but Thomas Gaunt had a very Some Enchanted Evening Moment with Severus, only instead of seeing him across a crowded room, he saw Severus going absolutely bananas at Harry Potter and went "Yes, this is The One for me. I so love a challenge" so Severus is feeling thoroughly off-balance for many reasons. Also Lucius is not exactly happy that he crashed someone else's afternoon tea in the garden to thoroughly lose his temper.

"Is he always like that?" Gaunt gestured to Professor Snape and Harry shouting at one another.

"Oh, not really," Ron answered slowly. "I reckon he and Harry bring it out in each other. Like two cats who don't want to share the same space."

[rosesparkles-4]

A "humans are space orcs au" idea I had for Hogwarts legacy (would be a Sebastian Sallow x reader)

Basically there's one human (reader/mc) who was abducted by an intergalactic gang (the ashwinders) and eventually they're rescued by an alien crew made up of Sebastian, Ominis, Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit. Bonding ensues! Also humans are terrifying to the rest of the galaxy, comes with the trope. Eventually they take MC to Hogwarts (school that specializes in teaching species from all over the galaxy), where instead of the professors being able to help them get home, the headmaster won't authorize the journey to earth. Far too risky (he doesn't want to waste the money involved on a human). So instead, he compromises and lets them attend Hogwarts, now eventually they'll get their flying license and go home themself.

Sebastian:

He's technically the captain of the ship, it's for a school assignment involving exploring the rest of the galaxy

Ominis actually does more of the captain duties tbh, but Sebastian is the best at flying so he gets the title. (Ominis can fly thanks to tech accomodations similar to his canon universe wand that detects what's around him, he can connect to the ship and steer it like that.) Sebastian also has better grades, so that helps.

His species is very lizard like, cold-blooded and some of the scales on his body change color with his emotions (replacing his freckles from canon). Mc jokes he's a chameleon, Sebastian doesn't get it.

He falls in love. HARD. At first, he was ready to tear MC apart to defend his crew, but when they quickly learn humans aren't heartless killers? He lets his shields down. Then when MC officially joins the school and gets assigned to his ship? He's done for. They already started bonding on the journey to the school, but now that he's spending more time with the reader it's evolved into something more.

Unfortunately, this makes him dread their eventual return to earth, where their memories will be wiped upon arrival and he'll never see MC again. While there are protections in place for abducted humans, most governments force a memory wipe to keep it under wraps. The tension between earth and the rest of the galaxy is already unstable.

Until then though, he's chosen to spend as much time as he can with MC while secretly searching the galaxy for a cure for his dying sister

Ominis:

The one who actually runs the ship tbh

Had a heart attack when Poppy brought a rescued human on board

He's only ever heard of humans being terrible awful beasts, and he avoids MC for a while.

Until he catches them crying bc homesickness be a bitch, and when he goes to comfort them he holds their hand. Oh. They're soft.

Surprise surprise, the gaunt family is royalty on planet full of snake-like aliens. He hates them here for reasons I will delv into in a later post.

Still just as mischievous as Sebastian, they both play pranks on everyone

Is actually the most angry at Black's refusal to send MC home right away. He'd miss them of course, but he knows how much MC longs for earth.

Amit:

Had to break it to Poppy that humans are not beasts, and are in fact people. She was disappointed.

Is almost fluent in English, loves that the MC can teach him more.

Actually gave them a translator to understand the rest of the ship, but it's uncomfortable so they're making an effort to learn the SUL (standard universal language) while they all try to learn English.

Was the biggest advocate for them when Sebastian initially ordered MC to be locked up. Dragged him to the cell to witness her depressed when it got bad enough and forced him to realize that MC was just a person who was lost, and he was not helping. (Sebastian still feels guilty for his behavior long after, he felt like a monster)

Please tell Amit everything about earth. He's working on a book to hopefully sway the public opinion and open up more peaceful communications with Earth.

Still deciding what kind of alien he'd be, I am open to suggestions!

Poppy:

Beasts specialist, was initially tearing apart and Ashwinder camp when she rescues MC

Next to Amit, she's the quickest to warm up to MC, talking about Earth's wildlife was an easy conversation starter once they could understand each other.

Poppy is also undecided, I am open to suggestions about her alien species too.

Once MC gets equipped with a blaster they go after ashwinders together with Natty, it's a great bonding experience.

She knows what it's like to be an outsider, so MC often turns to Poppy when she needs to vent about feeling alone.

Natty:

As soon as she has her first conversation with MC she drops her guard. Instant besties, she can tell MC is a good person. Clearly all the rumors about humans must be fake.

Alien species is based on gazelles! She can run super fast (duh), but her antlers actually have levitation abilities (similar to her wandless casting in canon)

Helps MC catch up on school work, she's been the new kid before and knows what it's like

Her father was murdered by Ashwinders in this AU, it's why she's so eager to take them down even before meeting MC.

Garreth:

His will be quick I'm getting tired lol

He's a scientist! Closest thing the ship has to a doctor. While he experiments in his free time, he's learned no to do it when patching up friends (his aunt would kill him)

Please let him study humans. Please. He wants to know about your anatomy and what you can take.

Him and Amit fight often, but it's a playful rivalry.

Also helps you study along with Natty, Amit, and Sebastian. You lucked out with this crew lol they're all nerds in their own way.

Is a cat like alien species

[the-ink-and-quill]

Whatever It Takes by theinkandquill

Summary:

The dragon nowhere in sight, Lavinia’s adrenaline slowly started to wane. But the memory of its colossal maw and scorching breath was still fresh in her mind.

“If it’s all the same to you, Professor,” Lavinia gasped. “Next time, I will take the Hogwarts Express.”

***

Lavinia Lin transfers from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just in time for her fifth year. She must undergo trials to protect an ancient form of magic, take down dark wizards and poachers, and stop a goblin rebellion. All the while juggling her schoolwork, her budding friendship with Sebastian Sallow, her newfound rivalry with Ominis Gaunt, and hiding her own secret: the truth about her father, Victor Rookwood.

Rating: T

Relationships:

Sebastian Sallow/Original Female Character(s), Ominis Gaunt/Original Female Character(s), Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/Original Female Character(s), Ominis Gaunt/Player Character, Player Character/Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt/Player Character/Sebastian Sallow

Characters:

Original Female Character(s), Player Character, Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow, Natsai Onai, Poppy Sweeting, Eleazar Fig, Victor Rookwood, Amit Thakkar, Garreth Weasley, Player Character (Hogwarts Legacy), Anne Sallow

Additional Tags:

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Polyamory, world building, Slow Burn, I mean so slow that they don't all get together in this one, Spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy (Video Game), Corruption Arc, Found Family, Friendship, Endgame Sebastian/Ominis/MC, Canon-Typical Violence, strap in folks this is gonna be a long one, Father Figure Fig, Friends to Lovers, dueling as a way of flirting, Bisexual Sebastian Sallow, Bisexual Ominis Gaunt, Bisexual Player Character, Honestly just assume everyone is bi, MC gets an emotional support niffler. as a treat, ot3 endgame, Pre-Relationship, Pre-OT3, Rapidly oscillates between a drama and a comedy, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, he fell first but she fell harder trope, MC is Victor Rookwood's Daughter, POC Player Character, Historical References, Historical Accuracy, or I try to be anyways, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Victor Rookwood’s A+ Parenting

Chapters: 12 of 36

Updates every Thursday!

[luciatraskwrites]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION /// ISRAFEL FALLE

( he/him | 21 | bisexual | caelorni )

tropes:

the cynic

deadpan snarker

messy hair

byronic hero

there is a young man who sits in the back of professor abernathy’s classroom - that very thin, very gaunt young man with that head of perpetually ruffled dark brown hair and narrow face. his fingers are as thin and brittle as a spider’s legs, snatching books off shelves to read or picking up his pen to write. perhaps the oddest thing about him are his eyes - those dark brown eyes betray watchfulness and brightness. this is our poet, israfel.

his poetry is quite different from what people expect from someone like him: fun, almost childlike verses filled with talking animals and rhyming. look closer, though, and you can sense the glumness lurking behind the lighthearted veneer. and indeed, israfel really doesn’t seem like the sort to write this poetry! his fellow students at annelka college know him as a withdrawn young man, prone to headaches and with a most jaded outlook on the world around him. he’s also prone to snark - amusing to some, but even then it can quickly wear out. for all his bitterness and pessimism, though, israfel is a very observant young man. he’s one of those people who ends up picking out details most might not notice at first glance.

it’s not like he doesn’t have reasons for his withdrawn personality, though. israfel’s got a rather... strained relationship with his father, who struggles with alcoholism. his experiences with a father prone to hurting him when he’s not sober - at one point, he ended up taking israfel’s glasses and snapping them in half, refusing to get him another pair - have left him irritable and struggling with concentration and self-esteem. to make matters more complicated, it’s perfectly clear to israfel that his father does genuinely care about him. what can he do about the man who rests a hand on his shoulder and bids him good luck in his last year of college who will also leave blotchy, throbbing bruises on israfel’s face if he so much as says the wrong thing? 

at one point, israfel did have someone to help him: a young boy a few years younger than him by the name of claude who was a dear friend of his when they were children. but claude was sent off to boarding school when he was thirteen, and israfel spends his time wondering what happened to his childhood friend and first love. he’s well aware that claude was prone to moments of selfishness and naivety as a child, and surely that’s changed now that he’s older... right?

taglist ( please ask or dm me to be + / - ): @adaparkwrites / @asablehart / @astralis-elysian / @austrohungarianwriteblr / @blueinkblot / @chris-the-dragonslayer / @ollieoxen-freewriting / @pe-ersona / @sunshineomeara / @wildler / @write-for-your-life2

[gameofdrarry]

Drarropoly 2020 Azka-DAMN & Miscellaneous Submissions

Drarropoly ’20: Founders Edition ran from November 22 2020 until January 22 2021 with a total 51 players, and 117 submissions. list of prompts players were given, as well as the drabbles players submitted to fill each of the prompts, sorted by level. Just as in Monopoly one can use their money to upgrade their spaces and buy houses or hotels, players in Drarropoly were able to write more with more restrictions and higher word counts at the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. levels to earn more points.

Azka-DAMN

Let your imagination run wild with the possibilities the prompt might inspire! Remember: Your submission does NOT have to be explicit in nature.

(2) Harry or Draco can't even say the other's name without sneering, but it isn't their name that they can't get out of their head. Utilise the PWP trope for either their first time having sex or the quote "This is the last time." – OR – (Alt 2) Harry and Draco must find a way to work together to raise money for a charity organisation even though they don't agree on anything. Choose either 1) Established Relationship -OR- 2) Not Established Relationship.

📜 The Compromise by Orpheous87 Rated:  General Words:  477 Tags: Established relationship, domestic fluff, bachelor auction, bake sale Summary:  Harry and Draco disagree on how is best to raise money for charity. ❤️ Read on AO3

(4) Jealous much? Character C keeps inserting themself into the equation and Harry or Draco does not like C's proximity to the other. – OR – (Alt 4) Harry and Draco have to clear the air after the misunderstandings that plagued their relationship. Explore the difficulty in admitting mistakes and saying "Sorry."

📜 Enough is enough by Gnarf Rated:  Mature Words:  530 Tags: Jealousy, Awkward Sexual Situations, Angry Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry, Marriage Proposal, Happy Ending, Other: See Story Notes Summary:  When Draco sees McLaggen creeping around Harry again, he can't help but intervene. Thankfully Harry for once listened to him and the evening turned out to be quite surprising. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Snake Bound by SlowTortoise Rated:  Mature Words:  2111 Tags: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Case Fic, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Dark Arts, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Kissing, Implied Sexual Content, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Prompt Fill, Cover Art, Possessive Behavior Summary:  An Unspeakable joins Draco and Harry in their investigations into a series of personality thefts, rendering their victims with permanent defects to their character. However, the Auror pair has a secret to hide. They've been in a relationship for a few months and now this Unspeakable is getting in the way. Misunderstandings ensue as Harry's patience is tested! ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Strength in Vulnerability by rei382 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1951 Tags: Christmas Eve, Emotional, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship Summary:  Even though they've been dating for almost a year, Draco never really felt like he belonged in Harry's squad. A Christmas Eve party in their presence might be just a little bit too much for him. ❤️ Read on AO3

(5) "Let me get you out of those wet clothes." – OR – (Alt 5) Drarry + being partnered together + banter. Choose either 1) Hogwarts Eighth Year -OR- 2) Aurors -OR- 3) a Charity event.

📜 Body Heat by Ladderofyears Rated:  Explicit Words:  2067 Tags: Storms, Rain, Broomstick Riding, Flirty Friends To Lovers, Mild Peril, body heat, Wet Clothing, Huddling For Warmth, Seduction, Naked Cuddling, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Orgasm, Banter, POV Draco Malfoy, POV First Person Summary:  Harry and Draco huddle for warmth when the two wizards are caught in a storm. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Fire and Desire by Samunderthelights Rated:  Explicit Words:  1250 Tags: Auror Partners, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Sexual Content Summary:  Harry shows up at Draco's home late one night, drenched to the bone. "You should get out of those wet clothes. I’ll get you something to wear.” ❤️ Read on AO3

(7) Draco and Harry have a sexual awakening and either figure out their sexuality or discover an earth-shattering sexual experience/kink. – OR – (Alt 7) Drarry + discovering their attraction to each other.

📜 Glad You Came by Samunderthelights Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  2440 Tags: Self-Discovery, Falling in Love, Past Harry / Ginny, Harry & Ginny Friendship, Kissing, Mild sexual content, Fluff, Hopeful ending, Smoking Summary:  Harry did not want to go on a vacation with his friends, but they had made him come with them. He is still sulking about it, so he tries his best to hide and avoid the group activities. When one night he chooses not to join them for dinner, this means that he finds himself alone at the house with Draco. Who has been very actively trying to avoid Harry over the last few months. ❤️ Read on AO3

(9) apodyopsis - noun - the act of mentally undressing someone – OR – (Alt 9) Sonder - noun - the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

📜 The 4 D's by rei382 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  433 Tags: not-established, Post-Hogwarts, sexual content Summary:  Destination, Determination, Deliberation... and Draco Malfoy? ❤️ Read on AO3

King’s Cross Station

Where did Draco and Harry go on holiday?

Choose one of the following locations:

Godric's Hollow

House of Gaunt

Room of Requirement

Hufflepuff Common Room

Albania

The Scale

First Years Level: Minimum: 200 words Maximum: 800 words

O.W.L.s Level: Minimum: 1200 words Maximum: 2500 words

📜 Where We Hide Away by Sumthin Clever Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1887 Tags: Established Relationship, Holidays, Hogwarts Professors, Room of Requirement Summary:  When Harry gets picked to chaperone the students over winter break, interrupting his anniversary plans with Draco, Harry has to come up with another way to celebrate with his husband. ❤️ Read on AO3

  Potions Storeroom

What potion did someone take?

Choose one of the following potions:

Polyjuice

Felix Felicis

Draught of Living Death

Amortentia

Veritaserum

The Scale

First Years Level: Minimum: 200 words Maximum: 800 words

📜 A Little Liquid Luck by Curlyy_hair_dont_care Rated:  General Words:  463 Tags: Mutual Pining; Felix Felicis; Pansy Parkinson is a Good Friend; Summary:  Harry thinks a little 'Liquid Luck' is just what he needs to ask Draco out. ❤️ Read on AO3

O.W.L.s Level: + Include either the Established Relationship trope or the Enemies to Lovers trope. Minimum: 1200 words Maximum: 2500 words

📜 About Time by Orpheous87 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1934 Tags: established relationship, potions accident, fluff, light angst Summary:  After being on a week's worth of night surveillance missions, Harry's plan to get some sleep goes awry. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Man With A Plan by Sumthin Clever Rated:  General Words:  1731 Tags: Established Relationship, In the Epilogue Anyway, Polyjuice Summary:  Draco has a plan. And it is fool proof. ❤️ Read on AO3

N.E.W.T.s Level: + You must tell the story ~50% from Draco's POV and ~50% from Harry's POV. Minimum: 3250 words Maximum: 5000 words

📜 What We Reveal by rei382 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  4946 Tags: use of illegal potions, Enemies to Lovers, Mixed POV Summary:  Someone had been stalking Harry for weeks. When he finds out it is Draco Malfoy, more than one secret is revealed. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Only a Kiss by Samunderthelights Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  3592 Tags: Polyjuice Potion, POV Alternating, Kissing, Falling in Love, Feelings Realization, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Enemies to Lovers, Past Ginny / Harry, Hopeful Ending Summary:  Harry knew that there was something different about Ginny today. There was something about the way she had looked at him, the way she had touched him. The way that kiss felt. How it had made him feel things he had never felt before. But he can't quite put his finger on what the difference was. Because it was Ginny who had kissed him, his girlfriend. The girl he was about to break up with. Yet something about her had been different... ❤️ Read on AO3

  Punchcard

DANGER - Harry and/or Draco finds himself in the headmaster/headmistress’ office! Choose either 1) Sneaking in -OR- 2) Summoned -OR- 3) Being Punished

DISORDER - Harry and/or Draco is lost in a crowded, unknown place! Choose either 1) Running away from something/someone -OR- 2) Running toward something/someone

DISTURBANCE - Harry and/or Draco are at home when something suddenly causes a ruckus. Choose either 1) Loud wailing -OR- 2) Objects/furniture crashing -OR- 3) Several voices echoing throughout the house.

The Scale

First Years Level: Minimum: 200 words Maximum: 800 words

📜 There's No Such Thing As Psychic by Orpheous87 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  469 Tags: established relationship, Hogwarts professors, flirting, detention Summary:  Harry and Draco are in trouble with Professor McGonagall. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 They get that from you!  by Curlyy_hair_dont_care Rated:  General Words:  346 Tags: Headmaster Harry Potter, Professor Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, Fluff, Husbands Summary:  Professor Malfoy is summoned in to Headmaster Potter's office late at night. ❤️ Read on AO3

O.W.L.s Level: Minimum: 1200 words Maximum: 2500 words

📜 a lesson in communication by saltwatergarden Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1960 Tags: Enemies to Friends, Draco Malfoy Has a Crush, Oblivious Harry, Harry Does Dumb Things Summary:  Potter has been antagonising Draco left and right because...well, Draco's not exactly sure. ❤️ Read on AO3

N.E.W.T.s Level: Minimum: 3250 words Maximum: 5000 words

[jlhynde-insanitybrilliance]

In the Elmo Rises AU, I'm sure this is the only true entertainment Voldemort is getting (while under that stuffy turban). He probably feels that Snape and Malfoy Jr. and Dumbledore deserve it. And that he would've handled it so much better if he were a teacher/head of Slytherin.

Yes 🙌

All of this ⬆️

If anything I think in the AU, Voldemort would be all the more determined to get his body back. And I think, Theo and Draco would’ve stopped Harry from going on this ridiculous search for the philosopher’s stone leaving LV to be able to resurrect sooner.

Just imagine Professor Gaunt showing up in 2nd year & 12 year-old Harry has his bi-awakening. Like we all know how ridiculous Hermione acted in book two with Lockheart, but replace that with Harry and Professor Gaunt—And LV is just eating it up.

(God, this is becoming another wip, isn’t it?)

[herpronuonsarefemslash]

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Probability - Teaser 1

Enjoy my spin on some oft-overdone tropes like marriage contracts, independent Harry, and more.

Prologue - https://www.patreon.com/posts/63344102

=====

The Great Hall is quiet. Each drop of wax falling from the candles can be heard. The post owls have bitten through the rope suspending the bundle between them and flown off. Ron, Hermione and Ginny lean over to stare into the basket.

Even the teachers have shut up. Snape’s smirk makes the room feel cold. Dumbledore is tapping his fingers together in front of his nose. McGonagall looks like she’s ready to burst out of her seat. Umbridge is frozen in place like she tried and Dumbledore spelled her back into her seat.

“Mate, why’d you order a baby? And why’d it come by post?” 

“I didn’t, Ron!” 

“She’s...” Ginny hums, clearly trying to say something nice. Harry can’t imagine what it would be. The baby has jowls like one of aunt Marge’s bulldogs and it looks like she’d fit entirely in his hand. They can’t be that small at the start, can they?

“She has a fair complexion.” 

That’s true. She’s paler than Ginny. No freckles, though.

“She? What makes you assume she?” Hermione huffs. 

Ginny points at an envelope tucked in the basket by the baby’s feet. 

“Gringotts seal, with the Gobbledegook runes they use for the announcements of births. They send out congratulations to all blood relatives whenever there’s a pureblood birth. Mum kept all of our letters and the envelopes. She had them framed. Mine’s got different runes than the boys, and those match mine.”

=====

She groans, hands Harry the letter, and drops her face into her hands.

To the Right Honorable Harry James Potter, Earl of the Sorcerous Lands of Somerset, sired by James Charlus Potter, out of Lily Potter nee Evans. 

Honorable Sir, please find enclosed one (female) infant, two sets of clothing, one blanket, two glass bottles (monogrammed, silver-framed), one phial of blood, and paperwork regarding the same. 

Per the results of the rituals, the child is magical. Note that we do not offer guarantees or refunds in the case of squibs. According to our records, you are the closest living male relative. Her heritage is as follows. Numbers are approximate, as the ritual was unusually volatile. Life prices for three goblins killed were deducted from your vaults. 

2/6th House of Potter - sire Harry James Potter 

3/6th House of Black - dame Bellatrix Lestrange née Black 

1/12th House of Gaunt - relation unknown 

1/12th common line (magical) - relation unknown 

As of your receipt and reading of this, the child is in your care and you are her legal guardian. If you wish to set up a trust fund for the infant, please contact your account overseer. If you wish to arrange a marriage contract, please visit us, but do so no earlier than her thirteenth month. If you do not wish to retain the child, auction services are available. 

In gold and glory, 

High Overseer Bentspear

=====

’If you do not wish to retain’ bounces around inside his head, chasing ’auction services’ around like Dementors dancing a waltz. He can feel tears on his cheeks and his ribs ache. A hand lands on Harry’s shoulder and squeezes softly. He looks up to find McGonagall and jams the note into his robes before she can read it over his shoulder. 

“Potter, you are excused from the day’s classes. Head directly to the common room, please. Be a good lad and take Miss Granger and Miss Weasley with you.” 

“Oi! What about me?”

“Mister Weasley, I think quidditch practice might be a better use of your time and the baby’s safety.” 

“I looked after Ginny sometimes,” he grumbles. “Not like I’m going to toss her around like a quaffle.” 

Ginny shoots the baby basket a glare that says ‘you’re making me miss quidditch practice’ and jabs Ron with her elbow. 

Harry glances from the basket, to the professor, to Hermione’s scowl, to Ginny’s tight-lipped, flushed face as she tries not to laugh. 

“How...” 

“She’s a baby, Potter. Not a Hungarian Horntail. Perhaps you should carry her, hmm? I understand that is the traditional way.” 

“Right. Sorry, Professor.”

He reaches into the basket, puts his hand under her head–she’s so tiny–and the instant his fingers brush the back of her tiny, fuzzy head all he can think about is not dropping her.

=====

“Potter, a mome-hey!” 

He takes his foot off the bottom step of the staircase and turns around, slowly–don’t drop her!–to find Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Ernie MacMillian, and a Ravenclaw girl that he doesn’t recognize, but looks like she’s sixth or seventh year. Ginny and Hermione both have their wands up and somehow sparks are coming off Hermione’s hair.

Parkinson has her wand up too and her dark eyes flick from Ginny to Hermione before deciding that she’s more worried about Hermione. Daphne pulls her wand out of her sleeve, walks over to the windowsill and sets it down.

“There. I just want to talk. House Potter’s one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and it’s traditional to greet newborn members of other houses.” She gestures to Pansy. “Especially the ladies and heiresses.” 

Parkinson scoffs. 

“Parkinson.” 

Daphne plucks Pansy’s wand out of her hand. “Behave like a lady.” Pansy stands there, mouth hanging open in shock and twitching like she’s got her fingers in an electrical outlet. Daphne walks over and puts Pansy’s wand next to hers. She steps closer, hands upraised to calm Ginny and Hermione.

“My apologies for the behavior of my handmaiden, Heir Potter. It is Heir Potter, yes? You haven’t taken up the title yet?” 

“Uh, no? I don’t think I have.” 

“A word of advice? You should check on that with Gringotts and the Ministry. In that order. What’s her mother’s House? Or is she,” Daphne’s eyes flick to Hermione, and she pauses, then her tongue wets her lips, like she’s tasting the words before she says anything. “Unaffiliated?” 

“Her...um...” 

What am I going to say? Bellatrix Lestrange?

“I’d rather not say, just yet. Bit of a surprise to me, finding out this way.”

Greengrass’ crimson-glamoured lip curls up like a rose petal over a candle.

“Fair enough, Potter. No shortage of suspects who might have missed a step on the charm in a broom closet,” she jokes, crooking her fingers around ‘missed’. “Boy-Who-Lived, after all. You must need a house-elf just to keep track. I’m going to have to quiz my housemates about what you were up to last winter.”

She brushes her long, slim fingers clean on a handkerchief and reaches for the baby, stroking her thumb down her sleeping chest. He’s never realized how tall Daphne was until just now, when he has to tilt his head back a little so he’s not staring right at her chest, or how blue her eyes are–silvery blue, the color of the sky behind a wispy cloud–until she looks at him. 

She leans down and kisses the baby, and Harry gets a funny, fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

“Well met, new blood. House Greengrass welcomes you, and gifts you with our magic,” she whispers against the baby’s skin. When she lifts her lips, a single rose petal flutters from her mouth into the baby’s hands and she giggles. 

“Oh, you are a gem! I would not have given you back to him, little witchling. I would have made him come to me.”

=====

Harry can’t let go. He just can’t. 

He doesn’t know how this happened, or why. He doesn’t know how he’ll manage it. But he knows what he has to do: Take care of her. Someone put a baby in the post–like it was a newspaper or an advert–and sent it to him. She didn’t have a year with her mum and dad in a little cottage. She didn’t have her godfather and a photo album of the scoundrel being chased around by her mother brandishing towels and spoons. She didn’t even get left on someone’s doorstep in a basket with a fluffy blanket. She didn’t come with a letter in the basket explain. She got boxed up and tied to some owls. 

“Should you not wish to retain, auction services are available.”

“Why me, sir?” 

Dumbledore chuckles. “If you wanted an unremarkable life filled with unremarkable things, Harry, I must disappoint you. An unremarkable baby wouldn’t have survived that night, but you did. It seems part of the price you pay for your survival that night is that the unlikely is likely.” 

“What am I going to do, Professor? I don’t know how to raise a baby, but...” 

He swallows past a lump in his throat that feels like a rock. “But she can’t go back. And I don’t want her to be unwanted, like I was. I...I didn’t want this, and I don’t know how I would do it, but I would take care of her. I would want her.” 

He looks up into Dumbledore’s eyes, which seem warmer than usual. His half-moon spectacles aren’t twinkling, Harry notices. 

“We didn’t ask for you, boy! You stay here under our roof, eating our food, out of the goodness of our hearts!” 

“Ah. Once again, Harry, we both find ourselves outwitted by the Dursleys.”

=====

Ron hands the Gringotts paper back to Harry. “I still don’t get it, mate. Says you’re her father and the goblins usually aren’t wrong about that.” 

“Failure to record and manage bloodlines would violate the treaty,” Hermione tells them without looking up. She has the baby tucked in her arms, a copy of Beedle and the Bard open on her lap and a dog-eared Bedtime Stories for Brilliant Babies age 12 weeks to 24 weeks sits on the coffee table. Her parent’s copy, no doubt. Explains a lot about his friend. “Wizards are obligated to invade, starts another Goblin Rebellion. Huge mess.” 

She snorts. “Explains why they correctly recorded all those people marrying their cousins and sisters. Charming, that.” 

“But it says you’re her father!” Ron whines. He’s mad because he thinks I lost my virginity first. 

“Too much firewhiskey?” Ginny teases. She’s kept more distance from the baby, often muttering things like ‘Don’t care what mum says’ and ‘After I give up quidditch’ under her breath. 

“I think I’d remember shagging Bellatrix Lestrange, Gin. Remember it long enough to fling myself off a cliff in shame.”

=====

The floo in the common room spits out a figure that goes spinning across the floor and into a small table. “Wotcher, Harry!” Tonks groans, shooting a thumbs up. 

Ron snickers to himself and Tonks mutters a quick episkey and terego before standing, blinking tears out of her eyes and wiggling her just-fixed nose. She grabs the bottom of her jacket and tugs, straightening it out. Hermione bumps her hips into Harry, scooting all three of them to the side to clear space for Tonks to join them on the couch. 

She makes a grabby motion and Harry hands the baby over to her. Tonks immediately switches her hair to be the frightfully pale blonde of the wispy fluff on the child’s head. The studs on her motorcycle jacket sparkle, the baby giggles and reaches tiny fingers up towards her. 

The floo flares again. 

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, a well-dressed man in a Muggle suit steps out of the flames, followed by a stately witch. She has a thin frame and stands eye-to-eye with her lanky husband. Her sharply boned face and high cheekbones draw him to violet eyes set like crystals set in silver. Her sternness is offset by smile lines. She wears a black silk blouse under a forest green blazer and, rather than the suit’s skirt, rippling layers of black silk hang from her hips. Her husband strokes a hand through waves of coffee-brown hair, ignoring the way she stiffens beside him like a cat getting ready to pounce. He plucks out a bit of wood and tosses it into the flames. She rolls her eyes, softens, and kisses his cheek. 

“Thank you, dear.” 

He hums. “It was my privilege.” 

“Flatterer. It’s nice to finally meet you, Harry. Nympha-“ 

“MUM!” Harry chuckles. It’s like watching Ginny flip her lid when Molly starts to baby her.

=====

“I hadn’t thought of a name,” Harry admits. “You’re her family too. If...if things were still all right, with Bellatrix and Narcissa, and the Blacks, what would they have named her?” 

“A constellation. Most of the family is, boys and girls. Cygnus, Orion, Andromeda, Pollux, Cassiopeia, and so on. Narcissa’s the only living family member I can think of who’s not named after a flower, and my dad just decided that Bellatrix was the firstborn son he wanted, so he named her ‘warrior’.” “It’s also a star in the Orion constellation,” Hermione interjects.

“Dad probably lost a bet with my uncle Pollux, then.”

Harry glances at the baby, then the pop-up book open next to Hermione. D for Dolphin.

“Mione, is there a constellation about dolphins?” he whispers.

“Delphinus,” she answers without stopping her quill’s mad dash across her Arithmancy homework. 

Andromeda grins.

“Delphini, I think. You look like a slippery little thing. Don’t you? Yes, you do!”

Draco Malfoy’s mum’s sister—Bellatrix’s sister—is making silly faces at a baby.

He’s seen everything.

[rainforestgeek]

Unpopular Opinion about Hinny

I realize many in the fandom are fond of the Epilogue. I, personally, reject it out of hand.

In a relationship already as full of tropes as Harry and Ginny, I really don’t like the 2.5 kids and white picket fence ending JK gave them. When you do the math, Ginny would have had James when she was, what, 23 years old? That’s really young, especially for members of generation X. I don’t buy that they immediately got married and started popping out children. My main arguments are these: one, Ginny would not have wanted to be a mom so quickly; two, Harry would not have felt ready to be a dad so quickly; and three, they both needed time to get their lives together and process the trauma of fighting a war as teenagers.

Point One. Ginny was the youngest of seven children. She grew up constantly surrounded by a large and overwhelming family. I have no doubt that she is a family-oriented person. She’s even shown to be her own kind of nurturing in the books, with how she looks after Luna and Neville. That said, she’s also fiery, adventurous, and independent. I can relate to that last bit as a youngest child. When you have your parents plus older siblings smothering you all your life, being away from them is really freeing. Ginny hexed people when they pissed her off, mouthed off to professors, enthusiastically rebelled, mocked those who irritated her (like Fleur), and was active in the war effort. And shall we not forget that she was a total jock? Ginny as a pro Quidditch player is the most perfect thing I’ve ever heard of. If she started playing pro when she was 18, and got pregnant when she was 22, that’s only four years playing pro. For such an outgoing, competitive, and active person as Ginny, I’d expect her to be on the pitch for at least ten years before retiring to be a sports correspondent. I don’t see her in her early twenties setting aside her broom to write and take care of the baby all day. Back to Ginny being family-oriented - she’s got plenty of family to go around. She has six older siblings. Setting aside Charlie who was too dragon-obsessed to get married and have kids and Fred (whose fate we don’t talk about), that’s still four older brothers to give her plenty of nieces and nephews. Bill and Percy would likely already be having kids by her young adulthood, with George not too far behind. With no shortage of kids, brothers, and in-laws in her life, why would she feel the need to have her own children so soon? I totally see her as the cool aunt to all those little munchkins.

Point Two. Harry had a fucked up childhood. Really, a fucked up life, but I’m gonna focus on the Dursleys here. He spent his formative years neglected and bullied. Dudley made sure he had just about no friends and punched him so much that Harry became a really fast runner as a result. Petunia and Vernon talked shit about his parents, made him do Cinderella levels of housework without food for mouthing off once, locked him in his room with almost no food, actively treated him worse than his cousin (favoritism fucking stings, man), gave him crappy clothes and glasses, criticized his appearance constantly, banned him from almost everything, do I really need to go on? It’s no wonder he’s a sarcastic little shit. I’d be really salty by age eleven too if that was my home life. Now, he’s definitely a natural sweetheart and largely became kind towards other people coming out of his experiences, but he’s also a formidable opponent if he doesn’t like you. He’s stubborn and takes no shit because he took too much of it growing up. Even though he’s a loving person, there is a difference between how you treat people and raising children. A common theme with adults who had neglectful and/or abusive parents is they worry they’ll be the same way toward their kids. This fear isn’t unfounded, because we learn how to raise kids from how we remember being raised. There’s a reason it’s called a “cycle of abuse.” With as kind and sweet as he is, I personally think Harry would be self-aware enough to recognize cycles of abuse both from his own childhood and from delving into Merope Gaunt’s and Tom Riddle’s story. He wouldn’t feel ready to have raise a family until he’s really and truly processed almost two decades of trauma. He’d also be terrified of ending up like Vernon and Petunia Dursley - in fact, I think that’s his worst nightmare. After finally being free from the expectation to single-handedly end a war, Harry doesn’t strike me as the type to quickly (and four years is quickly) take on so much more responsibility like a baby until he’s worked through his shit (which will definitely take longer than four years), taken a break, calmed down, and completely settled into adult life. How many normal people do you know who’ve totally adjusted to adulthood by age 23? I can’t name one.

I want to see Harry and Ginny moving into a cheap flat together. I want to see them collapse at the end of the day because it was so fucking long. I want to see them fight because they both had unresolved PTSD. I want them comforting each other when the nightmares hit. I want to see them going to the Burrow to visit Molly and Arthur because neither of them feel like cooking. I want to see Harry at a pro Quidditch match cheering Ginny at the top of his lungs, decked out in full Holyhead Harpies garb complete with a jersey (robes? whatever) with “WEASLEY” emblazoned on the back. I want to see reckless midnight 1-on-1 midnight Quidditch when neither of them can sleep. I want to see them babysitting Teddy for the first time and freaking the fuck out because neither of them have younger siblings and “what does he bloody want, he’s just screaming!” I want to see stupid household pranks because Ginny totally would charm Harry’s coffee mug to spit fireworks at his face. I want to see them act like a ridiculous couple in their twenties.

[aethon-recs]

Hi I wanted to know if you know any tomarry fanfics were Tom is the professor. I don't care if it's time travel or anything like that I just want to see some professor Tom because I can't find any.

Also your blog help me so much thank you for that!

Have a good day/night

Oohh, this is a fun one! Thanks for the ask!

I love the Professor Riddle trope. I might be biased, but I think Tom Riddle would have made for the best Defense professor that Harry could have had 😉

See below for some favorite Tomarrymort fics of this trope, arranged by alphabetical order:

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Professor Riddle Fic Recs

Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun by @itsevanffs (E, 7k, complete)

Harry is a camboy. Professor Riddle is secretly his biggest patron.

Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 24k, WIP)

Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.

Fault Lines by @vestiges-of-light (M, 151k, complete)

After the world believes that Voldemort has died on that Halloween night, Tom Riddle returns to Hogwarts to claim the Defense post at last. Hogwarts will be a sanctuary, while he waits to find out more about Harry Potter and the prophecy that connects them. But when Grindelwald is broken out of prison, perhaps the magical world needs Voldemort to be publicly resurrected after all.

Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention by MistyTheGhost (E, 1k, complete)

Harry feels nothing but dread about his upcoming NEWTS. Luckily, Professor Riddle offers some assistance.

For Auld Lang Syne by @vdoshu (T, 8k, complete)

When he finds himself disarmed and held at wandpoint in the middle of a snowstorm, Tom’s first thought is that he is an embarrassment to Defence professors the world over. His second thought is something along the lines of, “Oh no, not again."

gratuity by @being-luminous (E, 2k, complete)

In the middle of class, Professor Riddle uses a spell to magically manifest his cock into Harry's arse.

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (M, 6k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.

Muggle Studies is Economics in Disguise by May_May_0_0 (M, 12k, complete)

Dumbledore acquiesces when Tom Riddle asks for the defense post. Harry stumbles into this AU version of Hogwarts hoping to teach defense. But there is only teaching one spot available: Muggle Studies. Chaos ensues as Muggle Studies becomes everyone’s favorite class. Tom Riddle is enraged, concerned, and… turned on?

Professor by Day, Vigilante by Night by @duplicitywrites (T, 73k, complete)

Harry and Tom have been together since their fifth-year, proving once and for all that Slytherins and Gryffindors can actually get along. Fifteen years later, they are both professors at Hogwarts and more in love than ever. Harry plays Quidditch with the Weasleys on the weekends, and Tom is secretly a vigilante named Voldemort.

On Holiday by @neurowriter14 (E, 2k, complete)

Harry's thirsty over his DADA professor. Professor Riddle knows.

The Orphaned King by @silenceinwinter2019 (E, 134k, complete)

In an AU where Voldemort wins, Harry starts his seventh year. Two things told Harry it would be an interesting semester: first, the Dark Lord would visit Hogwarts; second, they had a new defense professor, who made Harry’s stomach squirm and called himself Marvolo Gaunt.

What Happens in Vegas by @dividawrites (E, 14k, complete)

Turns out, the role of the Slytherin Head of House is not just ruling over pre-teen idiots and deducting points from Gryffindors. Now Tom has to accompany the seventh-year students on their school trip to Las Vegas. It goes even worse than he could have imagined.

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[jlhynde-insanitybrilliance]

Theo: Don't bother Malfoy. Trouble at home. / Harry: Fine. Even though he starts it. At least he's not the Gryffindor 1st years. / Theo: What's with that punishment from Prof. Gaunt? / Harry: Apparently they were the ones who flooded that bathroom. And something about killing chickens? / Daphne: It's about time someone punishes the Gryffindors for their awful behavior. / Harry: You're not wrong. Thanks to Prof Gaunt, we can eat w/o the Weasley Twins poisoning us. / H&D&T: He's the best!

So Anon in this scenario do you think Theodore & Daphane & Harry all have crushes on Prof. Gaunt? It sort of sounds like that’s implied. Oh boy, just imagine the chaos that takes place on Valentines Day! 😂 I think that would be the only time LV and Snape agree on something, that it’s a disaster of a holiday (but for entirely different reasons). Snape because all the flying cherub babies and love confessing are disrupting are distracting the students from their potion lessons & LV because all the cards, candies, and confessions toward HIM would distract him from teaching.

LV (under his breath): Dumbledore is a ridiculous fool letting these damn things fly about. Utterly ridiculous—

Harry: Professor?

LV (a little snappish): Yes? What is it now?

Harry: Uhh…

*LV sees who’s speaking to him and backtracks*

LV: I apologize. That’s was rude to respond that way. What’s the matter, Mr. Potter?

Harry: I know you got a lot of cards already, but I wanted to give you this. (Hands over a card). I’ve really enjoyed your lessons, sir, and I just wanted you to know that I love the DADA classes best now that you’re teaching them. Professor Quirrell wasn’t as great as explaining the theory as you are.

LV (to himself): Professor Quirrel was an imbecile. (To Harry) Thank you very much, Harry.

Harry’s card:

I’m not too great with words,

But I wanted you to know in case you haven’t heard.

That I think you’re really neat,

So please enjoy this treat!

H. Potter

LV: That’s adorable.