#ravenclaw mentality clawing at me again

[iiboronii]

everyone BUCKLE IN i'm going to try drawing again for the first time in awhile

[ickle-ronniekins]

forever, i choose you

desc: he’s always been everyone’s second choice, in every aspect of his life. george weasley just wants to be someone’s first.

word count: 3.9k

pairing: george weasley x muggle!reader

warning(s): idk you might cry, i sure did but what else is new. loneliness/discussion of sexual content/idk

A/N: i still have no motivation to write and/or read. and it’s the absolute worst. but i wrote the bulk of this story back in december/the beginning of january, and i figured maybe i’d try and write the ending and publish it and see if it’ll spark any inspiration in me. i’m real, real, real sorry if i haven’t gotten to your fics to read (i’ve got them all saved!) i just don’t know what’s wrong with me atm and it’s THE WORST. also it might evoke more emotion if you listen to this while reading this lil fic. thank you, to all of you, for your support and patience, always.

disclaimer: i do not give consent for my work to be posted on ANY other platform.

Seven-year-old George Weasley watched with wide eyes and a goofy grin as his father twirled his mother in the family space of their normally bustling and loud home. But tonight, the Burrow was quiet. Everyone was already sound asleep, his five brothers and his younger sister. George should be too, but he just couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much he tried. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sheets and kept groaning, and it wasn’t long before his twin brother Fred threw a few pillows at his face, and eventually, George decided to get up and go for a stroll.

He hid strategically on the staircase so his parents wouldn’t see that he was still wide awake at nearly midnight, and he watched as they swayed lightly to the music emitting from somewhere in the house. It was light as a feather, the music, a small piano tune that echoed through the lower level, its sounds traveling effortlessly up the stairs of the home. Mr. Weasley dipped his wife and Mrs. Weasley giggled like some of the young girls George had seen in the village, kind of a nervous giggle, and he watched her blush. He saw his mother placed her head gently on Mr. Weasley’s chest and they both closed their eyes, and George wondered if they were happy to have a moment of peace without their seven children running around causing mayhem.

He wondered if they danced like this every evening, after everyone had already gone to bed.

George noticed a weird sort of feeling in his chest; he wondered why his heart was hurting. Was it because there was something wrong? But then he realized that wasn’t the case, for the aching in his heart came from his pure desire to find exactly what his mum and dad had -- a love like none other, with seven children, a home with multiple stories, and more treacle tarts than one needs.

He vowed in that moment, as he watched his parents from the staircase and tapped his foot quietly in rhythm with the music, that he’d find love like that one day.

He wanted someone to choose him first, just like his parents chose one another.

He brought his hand to his chest, as if to calm his rapidly beating heart, for the sheer idea of finding a love like theirs filled him with such excitement that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Seven-year-old George Weasley laid in bed, ignoring the soft snores from his twin across the room, his eyes wide with wonder as he dreamt of the woman he’d dance with one day.

Twelve-year-old George Weasley wasn’t ready to date. He was only twelve years old! He much preferred to dream.

He knew when he looked at the girl across from him that she wasn’t the one, lovely as she was. He adjusted his Gryffindor tie and cleared his throat and focused on the Potions assignment in front of him. It wasn’t exactly a date, was it? He was in a Potions lesson with his classmates, and Snape. But when the cute blackhaired Hufflepuff approached him and asked if he’d like to work together on the next of Snape’s ridiculous concoctions, Fred poked his brother in the ribs and winked, as if to say, If you don’t partner up with her, you’re a right prat.

And so George did what he thought was gentlemanly and he said yes. He could tell by the rose pink colour that flooded her cheeks that she was smitten with him, and that she’d asked him to be her partner because she was smitten. And he had to admit, she really was quite cute and very, very kind.. and rather smart for her age as well. And he knew that she’d make some man very, very happy someday. It just wouldn’t be him.

He did what was asked of him. He measured out the correct amount of powdered Griffin claw. He made sure he and his partner had enough salamander blood for their strengthening solution. And he smiled back at his partner, though his heart and his mind were still with the girl he’d dance with one day.

The Hufflepuff tried her hardest to capture his heart, but it belonged to someone he had yet to meet.

She wasn’t the one that felt like home.

-- -

Sixteen-year-old George Weasley didn’t understand why all of his classmates wanted to snog people and move onto someone else without so much as a blink.

So many people were pairing off and lasting less than a week before moving onto someone new. George rattled his brain for answers, he searched the eyes of his classmates for explanations, but he couldn’t understand why people would want to hop from one person to another. Didn’t they want to find love, a love that’s long lasting and pushes boundaries and moves mountains and weathers the storms it meets?

But perhaps, he worried, maybe that’s where he was going wrong.

Maybe, in order to find what he truly yearned for, he needed to be reckless and love without really loving.

Maybe he needed to search less, in order to find her.

And so he decided, with much persuasion from Fred, that he’d ask that pretty brunette Ravenclaw to the Yule Ball, and he’d dance and drink firewhisky and maybe he’d even kiss her, if the courage he tried to summon stayed with him throughout the night.

And maybe if he did all those things, he’d forget about the one his heart desperately craved.

And for a little while, he really did forget. Perhaps he could get on board with this “love the one you’re with” mentality. Maybe he could just be in the moment without worrying about everyone else. Maybe he could kiss girls without feeling anything, maybe he could date casually, maybe he could be like everyone else his age and not think about weddings and marriage and having children.

“Georgieee,” the Ravenclaw slurred on the dance floor. She tugged on his tie and pulled him close. He could smell the firewhisky on her breath and his heart began to pound when she pressed her lips lightly to his cheek. “Dance with meeee.”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than this. He’d always wanted more than this.

George begrudgingly agreed and caught Fred’s eye from across the dance floor. The elder twin threaded his brows together and pushed the air with his hands, as if encouraging his younger brother to go for it. The Ravenclaw dazedly draped her arms across George’s shoulders and he sheepishly looked down toward his feet, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.

“George Weasleeeeyyyy,” she slurred again, hiccoughing in between giggles, “I said dance with meeeeeee.”

He tried to fight it, tried not to think of what he always did, but he couldn’t help it.

This girl was not the one. He could tell, because there was no love in the way she said his name. There was no true feeling in the surplus of kisses she kept pressing to his jawline, and there was no warmth radiating from her -- not the kind that mattered, anyway.

He knew, as he placed his hands gently on her waist and swayed with her to the music, that this was not what love felt like. This is not what home felt like.

He danced anyway, even though it was not the kind of dancing he’d seen his parents do all those years ago, and he allowed himself to think about what the rest of his classmates weren’t -- the person he’d hold in his arms, who’d be the mother to his children, who’s kisses would send him spiraling, who’s embraces would become all too familiar in a way that would comfort him in the darkest of times.

He allowed himself again, to dream of true love.

-- -

Seventeen-year-old George Weasley was sick and tired of waiting for the one.

It sounded kind of dramatic in his own head, seeing as he was only seventeen, but he’d known now for ten years exactly what he was looking for, and ten years seemed like a lifetime.

It didn’t help that nearly all of his friends had gotten over their casual dating scene and were now all enthralled with their significant others. He felt so painfully lonely, though he’d never admit it to a soul. He could hardly admit it to himself.

One evening, he shot up from the couch and out of the common room in a fit of fury, for if he had to see Fred and Angelina snogging in the corner for one more minute, he was quite certain he was going to explode from disgust. He was happy for his brother, of course he was, but he didn’t need to see it. Not as often as that.

He found Ron sitting in the Great Hall with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione and plopped beside them all before engaging in exciting rounds of exploding snap. But as the night grew darker and he grew more tired, George noticed the undeniable chemistry between his sister and Harry and his brother and Hermione. Though they all hadn’t admitted to one another how they felt, George had found it obvious, and he politely excused himself before he tugged his jacket rather angrily around his shoulders before he walked out into the winter storm, just to feel the cold air numb his skin.

He walked out of the castle, over toward the owlery, through the treacherous amounts of snow. Anything to distract George from everyone who’d apparently been hit by Cupid’s bloody arrow.

Ever since he was born, it had always been Fred and George. What about George and Fred? Was it because Fred was older? And why were people always lumping them together? Just because they’re twins? George loathed that. They were individuals too. He was always second, in everything.

In getting hand-me-downs from his older brothers. In being referred to with his twin. In lessons when the professors would call out their names for attendance, because F came before G in the alphabet. And even when it came to love; all the girls always seemed to flock to Fred instead, because he was more exciting. More boisterous. Less shy.

The cold, winter air bit violently at his exposed skin, and he reckoned it hurt less than watching everyone around him find someone that chose them, all while he was still waiting for the right person to choose him.

George Weasley didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.

He wanted to be someone’s first.

-- -

Twenty-year-old George Weasley didn’t know how exactly he ended up here.

He didn’t know how he ended up in a relationship three years deep, without having said “I love you” once and actually meaning it.

George thought he might’ve found her, his person, during his seventh year. She was beautiful and kind and everything he thought he’d hoped and dreamt of. Her soft touch, her yearning eyes, the way she curled up next to him in the dormitories late at night and held onto him as she slept -- it was everything, and it seemed to be perfect.

He thought that maybe, perhaps, she was it. But even so, he found himself waiting, still, for that feeling… the one on the staircase he’d felt so long ago.

But the pain of realizing that she wasn’t who he’d been searching for was more heartbreaking than the pain of him asking her to leave.

He’d been looking at her through rose coloured lenses and had been ignoring the truth that was right in front of him.

He should’ve left years ago, when that Gryffindor girl began to make backhanded jokes about the shop, and his dreams of becoming a business entrepreneur, claiming that she was only joking around.

He should’ve left when that girl showed up late to the grand opening of their shop, nearly a year into their relationship.

He should’ve left when he held her in his arms, and still didn’t feel comfortable beside her.

His heart ached for it, what he’d felt on the staircase at the mere age of seven. And perhaps he’d become so desperate for it, that he took something disguised as true love.

But the truth was that he knew, deep in his soul, that this Gryffindor girl wasn’t the one. He’d just chosen, outright, to ignore it. Perhaps if he could forget that idea that “the one” would smack him square in the face with an overwhelming sensation of knowing, he could have learned to love her, even when he hadn’t had that smack in the face moment when he’d met her all those years ago.

But it hadn’t happened, had it? He hadn’t grown to love her. Not truly, anyway. And she hadn’t grown to love him. Not in the way he wanted to be loved, at least.

Because it was more than just heated kisses and lazy days in bed and all things physical that he wanted.

It was about love. Pure, blinding, unadulterated love.

He stood frozen solid in the middle of his tiny flat and watched as that Gryffindor girl grabbed her coat off of the hanger and raised her hand slightly before slipping silently into the dimly lit hallway for the very last time. And George poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat near the window, looking up at the stars, expecting to feel sad at her departure, but in fact, he didn’t feel sad at all.

He felt hopeful.

He hadn’t found the one yet, but he knew she was out there, getting to him as fast as she possibly could.

Though his brothers had urged him to come to the pub and meet someone else, George didn’t fancy the idea of doing that. He was over that entire scene, just as he was in school when everyone was pairing off and moving on immediately. He didn’t want something fleeting, and he didn’t want something meaningless.

He wanted something true.

-- -

Twenty-three-year old George Weasley was certain that he was never going to find that feeling ever again, for as long as he lived.

While all of his friends were out at the pubs, meeting people and fooling around as if feelings weren’t involved, George was walking aimlessly through the streets to work. He was constantly dealing with the haze above his head, waiting for it to lift. He was turning down girls left and right and ignoring his brothers’ insistence on dating casually again.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his time on people who weren’t going to reach out and trace circles onto his chest in the middle of the night, or who weren’t going to dance around the kitchen in his clothes while cooking dinner, or who weren’t going to look at him with eyes so tender, it would render him useless for days to come.

He’d been waiting sixteen years to find his person, the one who would choose him everyday over everyone else, and in hindsight it didn’t quite seem like a long time. But as he cried silently to himself every few nights in bed, feeling the empty space next to him and yearning for the one who was meant to be there, sixteen years felt like a lifetime.

He thought for a long while, that maybe she was in another country, or maybe she was an auror or something, fighting her way through the monsters of the wizarding world.

He’d thought for a bit that perhaps he just hadn’t met her yet.

But as the days dragged on and he found himself lost in crowds, searching face after face, looking for hers, he truly felt as though all hope was lost.

And so George paced back and forth in the kitchen of his flat, biting at his nails and pouring himself hefty glasses of wine, keen on ignoring everyone’s attempts at getting him to come out.

Maybe this was what he deserved.

Maybe because he wasn’t out there, sleeping with people whose names he wouldn’t remember come morning like everyone else, he was just going to be alone.

Maybe there really wasn’t someone out there for him. Maybe not everyone finds true love. Maybe his parents had just gotten lucky.

The dull ache in George’s heart grew stronger, and for the upteenth night in a row, he laid in bed and gripped the covers and cried himself to sleep, his tears sliding down his cheeks the same way the evening rain slid down the window terrace.

-- -

Twenty-four-year old George Weasley stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he felt it.

That feeling. The one from the staircase as he watched his parents dance, all those years ago.

Heart pounding, chest rising, hands freezing.

It hit him square in the chest without warning, nearly knocking him over though his feet were rooted into the ground at the spot, smack dab in the middle of that cafe in the middle of London.

Someone was playing a slow, soft piano tune coming from the other end. People were filtering in and out, asking the man in front of them what exactly he was staring at and why he wasn’t moving. But George Weasley stood where he was, not taking his eyes off of you.

You were reading furiously, flipping through pages of a book gripped tightly in your hands, as though you couldn’t devour the plot fast enough. George watched with admiration as a gentle smile tugged at your lips, as your eyes scanned the words quickly, as you tapped your foot on the ground, in rhythm with that slow piano.

He watched with dazed eyes and parted lips as you finished the end of your book. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue and clutched the book tightly to your chest, overwhelmed, clearly, by the end of the plot. George’s heart soared so high at your passion that he found himself struggling to hold back the I love you that was pressing behind his lips.

You immediately took a long sip of your tea and placed your finished book back into your bag, only to pull out another and immediately immerse yourself in the next story. George laughed to himself, stunned that you were so intent on falling into someone else’s storyline, if only for a little while, that you hadn’t dared take a break from one book to the next. You merely jumped right in.

He wondered if his overwhelming feelings called out to you like a signal of sorts, because just as he was working up the courage to walk over to you, you looked up. You searched the room for a moment before meeting his gaze and suddenly, the world around you both stopped.

George found himself wanting to know everything about you. He itched to devour up any and all information you’d be so kind to provide to him -- your name, your favorite color, your birthday. He wanted to know what book you’d just been reading, and what about it had moved you so much to the point of tears. He wanted to know everything, but deep in his soul, he also knew that he’d have years to learn it all.

In fact, he’d have the rest of forever.

Your eyes went soft and George began to feel the steady pounding of his heart increase, and to his amazement, he noticed a gentle smile tug at the edges of your lips.

And he smiled back.

He’d been right all along. That feeling of finding the one would smack him square in the face. He wondered, as he peered at you now, biting down on your bottom lip and looking toward the ground, why he’d ever doubted himself in the first place. And he wondered when you looked back up at him once again and raised a hand to say hello, if you’d been smacked in the face with that feeling too, just like he had.

He resisted the urge to pour his heart out to you, right here and right now. He’d have time.

Perhaps today was just about having today, and recognizing that you were everything he’d been looking for since that evening on the staircase.

He’d tell you this one day.

-- -

“And what does… Lumox mean again?”

George laughed and squeezed your hands. “You mean, Lumos?”

You bit your lip in embarrassment and laughed, too. “Yes! Lumos. That’s the one that produces light, right?”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. You two were seated inside a bustling restaurant in Diagon Alley, and he wondered if people passing by realized just how cozy you two looked together. “You’re more brilliant than most witches I know.”

You cocked your head to the side with an air of confidence and batted your eyelashes at him. “What can I say, Georgie? I may have been born a… Mugglie… but maybe I was meant to be a witch.”

George had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t get over how painfully adorable you were as you attempted to pronounce these wizarding words and learn spells and charms and things as he taught you all things about the wizarding world. You took his wand and pointed it at your wine glass, pretending to transfigure it. You couldn’t, of course, since you weren’t a magical being. But George didn’t mind. He could watch you pretend all day long.

In all his years of studying magic, he’d never felt anything quite like this.

BONUS, just because i hate feeling sad asf:

Thirty-two-year old George Weasley rocked his redheaded daughter back and forth in his arms, until he was certain that she was sound asleep again -- her mouth open wide as she began to snore softly when he placed her back into her crib.

He peered up at the clock on the wall and blinked a few times before 4:32 a.m. came into focus. Exhausted, he made his way back into his room before sliding into bed.

And there it was again. That feeling.

You turned over in bed to face him, squinting in the darkness as your eyes adjusted to the scene unfolding before you. Groggily, you reached out and traced your fingers across his jawline. His heart nearly stopped. “Is she alright?” you asked sleepily.

George grinned softly and leant forward before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He whispered, “She’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Though your eyes were already shut, you reached out again and took his hand in yours before bringing your lips gently to his fingers. “Okay.. I love you.. G’night..”

But you were asleep again before George could respond, so instead he pulled you closely to him and began to gently trace circles on your bare shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo, and listened intently for the beating of your heart that had fallen into sync with his.

Tears pushed at the edges of his eyes, but he slowed his breathing and reminded himself, again, that there was no longer an empty space beside him in bed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever given up hope, but perhaps giving up hope was what made finding you so much sweeter.

If only he could tell seven-year-old George what he’d find when the time was right.

And in the darkness, as the rain pattered on the rooftop of his house and he felt your embrace tighten around his body, he whispered into the silence, “I love you, too.”

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[a-simple-imagine]

Misunderstandings

Requested by anonymous: The whole school knows you’re planning to go to Hogsmeade and rumors of who you’ll be asking to go with you spread fare and wide. But things don’t quite go to plan and so instead you find yourself studying all weekend and a very determined and apologetic Hermione Granger following you around

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 2.2k+

A/N- The more stories I write about Hermione, the less confident I feel. I always feel like there is something missing or they’re getting worse but alas, I do hope that whoever requested this does it enjoy it. 

Warnings - Prejudice, minor bullying 

The sound of childhood giggles and idle conversations echoed through the corridors of Hogwarts school. Hiking Pansy Parkinson further up your back, you charge through the sea of students; first years and fifth years alike also on their way to have dinner in the great hall. Slipping between them with surprising grace as you raced an invisible clock.

"Times running out" your fellow Slytherin whispers in your ear. Had it not been for sharing a dorm room, you probably wouldn't be friends with Pansy. She had never been the nicest of girls to pretty much anyone who wasn't in her immediate circle of friends. And her friends were also stuck-up purebloods who thought they were better than everyone else.

"We're nearly there," you choke out, Pansy's arm pressing dangerously tight against your neck. "You're just heavy."

"I am not," she growls playfully earning herself a giggle. A glorious smell titillates your tastebuds signaling you're almost at your goal. This race was as good as won and you couldn't wait to rub it in Pansy's smug little face. Proving once and for all that you were strong and could carry her from the dungeons to the great hall without dropping her.

"Stop!" Busted. You come to an abrupt stop almost smashing into two Gryffindor boys who had also thought the instructions were for them. "Put down Miss Parkinson, please." Pansy slips down off your back and you both turn to see A displeased Professor McGonagall staring back. "If I find either of you running around the corridors with reckless abandon again I will take points from Slytherin house, do you understand?"

"Yes," You both bow your heads as a sign of apology mumbling out a quick Sorry Professor. Scurrying off around the corner and out of sight of the dread teacher, Pansy immediately jumps up onto your back and you continue your journey. It's a little clumsier this time, students harder to avoid as they move together like a herd of sheep. Slowing down as you reach your destination, Pansy shoves a little Slytherin to the floor. In her defense, the girl was in the way but Parkinson didn't have to be so rough. Making a mental note to apologise later, you drop the girl at the threshold but not without strangling you a little on the way down. One hand runs over the delicate skin of you neck, as the other shoots up in celebration. "I am triumphant,"

With a less than favourable look, the Raven-haired Slytherin's head shakes slowly. "You dropped me."

"Yeah but only because McGonagall made me," you protest, arms falling. "so it doesn't count."

"It does count." You shove her forward, watching her stumble into the hall as you follow behind.

"It does not- that's not fair," Pansy looks back to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. It was a look you knew all too well. She was trying to get a rise out of you.

"You dropped me," Her hands connect to your side, pushing you back. "So you lose. Just face facts that you're a loser,"

The argument falls short at the sound of your name. With a roll of your eyes, you're met by two giddy students you didn't know. One was short with long blond hair and ugly wide framed glasses. She was still wearing her Raven claw robe. The other was taller than her friend but still short; her brunette hair was pulled into a messy bun and she had a badger clip keeping stray strands at bay. You reckon they're first or second years. Either that or you're more ignorant than once thought. "What's up?"

"Word around the school is that you're going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" The little Ravenclaw spoke first. Pansy comes up behind you, slumping an arm around your shoulder. The two girls backed up just a little.

"Who told you that?" You wonder. The whole school always seemed to know your business. The two of them giggle between themselves.

"It was Hannah," the Hufflepuff blurts out; at least you assume that's her house.

"Hufflepuff Hannah?" You ask and they nod. You didn't know a lot of Hufflepuff's personally but Hannah was one you'd come across more than once.

"She also said you're planning to ask someone," your heart stops. "The forbidden one?"

"We think it's Harry Potter," The blonde comments and you relax a little. Of course, they would assume it was Harry of all people. "I mean he is the chosen one after all. And for him to be with a Slytherin? well, that would shock everyone,"

"Yeah," her little Hufflepuff friend agrees. "Apparently Harry wanted nothing to do with Slytherin when he first came here."

You chuckle; exchanging an amused look with Pansy. "I am going to Hogsmeade yeah but not with Potter- now if you'll excuse us."

Removing her arm, you pull Parkinson away before the conversation can continue. "So you like potter?"

"No," you shake your head. "At least not in that way. I'm not going to Hogsmede with him if that's what you're getting at."

"You can just admit it- I won't tell anyone."

"Yes you will," It'd be stupid to trust Pansy with information like that before telling the forbidden one yourself. "You'll tell everyone," With an extra hard shove, she stumbles into none other than Draco Malfoy. He was someone you had trouble getting along with. Before you get an earful, you slip into the crowd and make your way to the Gryffindor table while Pansy deals with the spoilt rich kid.

"Hey Hermione," Her name drifts from your lips as you slide in next to her. Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun and she had her head buried deep in a book; her brow crinkled adorably as she focuses.  "Ron," you nod your head towards him as he takes a bite of sausage. And then you turn to the most famous wizard you would probably ever know. "And... don't tell me... it begins with an H... Henry Porter right?"

"We were just talking about your," Ron announces.

"All good things I hope- I'm not crushing on the chosen one."

"What brings you here?" There is a chill behind her voice, once that suggested you weren't welcome. You didn't read too much into it, she probably just didn't want you to disturb her.

"She's allowed to sit with us Hermione," Ron jumps to your defense.

"I'm going to Hogsmeade this week and I was thinking, that maybe we could go together? If you want to like?" You grab a goblet and begin pouring yourself a drink. "I mean Hermione by the way. Not you, Ron- No offence or Henry over there."

"You know my name is Harry,"

"Is it? my bad, I'm awful with names." It was always fun messing with the chosen one. Everyone knew who he was, he was a legend after all although he wasn't all that impressive up close.

"I can't," Hermione states firmly drawing all attention to her as she snaps her book shut. "I have to study for our upcoming potions test. Considering some of the grades you've received since returning, I would advise you to do less gallivanting and more studying."

You had never gotten the best grades but you were in no way failing and for her to suggest such a thing was a little mean. "You know what?  you're right, maybe I will hit the books instead."

"We could-"

"I'll see if Cho is free this weekend," you suggest, slapping your hands against the table and rising to your feet. "She's really smart."

"Cho Chang?" Harry perks up. You wonder how many other people he knew with the name Cho to ask such a silly question.

"Harry's got a massive crush on her," Ron snidely adds, struggling to hold back his devilish bark of laughter.

"Seriously," Cho Chang was arguably way out of his league but it was still amusing. "I can't really blame you, she is cute. I'll put in a good word for you." And with that, you take your leave.

Cho Chang was an older, well known Ravenclaw. Beautiful and with a heart of gold. The two of you had become pretty good friends since your first year and her second so it was no surprise that she agreed to help you out.

Study hall was the bane of your existence. It was almost always incredibly boring and you found sitting in complete silence with a bunch of other students rather awkward. Today you were working alongside Cho as she takes you step by step through the Goblin Rebellions.

"Can I have a word?" The tapping on your shoulder was from Hermione, who you briefly glance at before turning back to your work.

"What?"

"I just... can we talk in private?"

"Why?" You bite back quietly.

Please?" With a heavy sigh, you apologise to Cho and follow Hermione. She takes you far enough away from the hall as to not disturb anyone.

"Well?" You huff, leaning against the wall.

"I wanted to apologise for the other day,"

"You're gonna have to be more specific?"

"You're not a bad student by any means," Her gaze drops to the floor. "I should not have brushed you off the way I did."

"It's whatever," you shrug. "Is that all? I have studying to do."

"No," she answered quickly, you meet the uncertainty in her eyes. "...when I said you should study too I didn't think you'd ask Chang."

"Why do you care who I study with?" You sound more defensive than intended. "You didn't want to hang out anyway."

"That's not true," Hermione mumbles softly. "I was kinda hoping to study together but you were so quick on the defensive-"

"Because you basically called me stupid when all I did was ask you out."

"That's not entirely accurate," Hermione fires back. "I never called you stupid."

"You implied it," you growl. "so sorry I'm not smart enough for you,"

"You know I didn't mean it like that

"Do I?" You ask. "I'd invite you to study with us but we're probably not on your level." Without giving her a chance to reply, you walk away.

"Everything okay?" Cho asks as you return to the table.

"Just dandy," You offer her a smile, sitting back down beside her and picking up your quill. "Shall we continue?"

The following Friday, you walk into the great hall alongside Millicent and Pansy; listening to Parkinson drone on about how funny it was to watch a first-year fall flat on their face. Sitting down, you chat idly when Hermione takes a seat next to Pansy who looks nothing short of disgusted. Shoving Crabbe further up the bench so she could move away from her. "Are you avoiding me?"

"What makes you think that?" You don't bother looking at her as you take a sip of water.

"We don't want dirty witches like you here," Pansy spat.

"Don't worry Pans, you won't catch anything," You never understood her distaste for muggle-borns.

"I apologised so can we go back to being friends or something?"

"You want to be friends with someone like me?"

"I'm sorry okay," she blurts out. "Really sorry."

"This is kinda sad to watch." Millicent comments. "Didn't you like her not too long ago?"

"Yeah until The mudblood called her stupid, keep up."

"Pansy," you growl, shooting her a glare. "Don't call her that,"

"I'm going to Hogsmeade this weekend, maybe we could go together like you wanted?" Hermione suggested abruptly drawing the attention back. "Ron explained what you actually meant when you invited me. He also seems perplexed that you aren't in love with Harry."

"Him and just about everyone else at this school," you chuckle. "why would you want to go with me?"

"Because I... I like you,"

Pansy and Millicent snicker to themselves and you can't help but smile. "I'm sorry I didn't quite hear that."

"I like you,"

"You what?" You ask loudly; forging confusion.

"I..." The red of her cheeks betrayed all her attempts to act like this wasn't embarrassing for her. But after what happened last week, she kind of deserves it. "Like you too okay? When you invited me I thought it was no big deal not that you wanted to go on a date." She practically shouts, surprising you and everyone else who had decided to listen in on the conversation. "You don't have to come with me, it's... fine."

She scampers you her feet and tried to walk away.

"Hermione," you call out. The girl comes to a stop, turning back to you. She can't look you in the eye, it was almost sweet. "We should go together."

Your friends are struggling I hold back their laughter so you elbow Millicent in the side. "Really? you're not mad anymore?"

"Never was," You admit although it wasn't entirely true. I'm the moment it had but you quickly got over it's "it wasn't a big deal. I just like pushing your buttons."

"Okay. Well- great then," she coughs awkwardly. "So Saturday then? Yeah."

It's like Hermione can't get away fast enough. Perhaps she was worried if she stayed around much longer you'd change your mind or maybe she just wanted to get away from your awful friends. "So you're really going with Hermione of all people,"

"I am," you nod, your lips curled up in a triumphant smile. "And I wouldn't have it any other way so shut up and eat your food, Pansy."

[judediangelo75]

Claws To Wings

Welcome one and all~

I did say I was going to be working on the Talith lore, so here’s another installment of that. So I did some tweaking to the storyline that Jam City had. So the first Valentine’s Day happened in 4th year instead of 5th (because you can unlock I think both Valentine’s Day TLSQs in the same year and it didn’t make too much sense to me). 

Plus there are future true events that happen in 6th year, if you’re already familiar with the Without You/The Man Behind the Necklace series than you already know. During that time, Judith and Talbott are together and have been for quite some time. But before that, they have been pining after each other for years. 

In my first story, “The Scent of Love to the Heart of a Loner Poet”, Talbott is coming to realizing how deep his feelings were for Judith (whose been crushing on him since 3rd year). Between then and now, those feelings have grown and they’ve been dancing around each other. 

There’s gonna be some details here that are definitely gonna be new (because it’s part of a super old character reference I created for her when I first started posting about HPHM content here).

Anyway, enough rambling. On with the story! Enjoy! 💛

MC friend: David Willows ( @that-scouse-wizard )

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

Talbott stood before his mirror, readjusting his tie for probably the fifth time.

He was trying to soothe his nerves. Why you may ask?

Because of the Ball.

The Valentine’s Day Ball.

In his right mind, he would avoid such social gatherings like the plague. But it’s fair to say he hasn’t been much of his right mind ever since he met her.

Judith Harris.

A Hufflepuff witch with pale gold eyes and a heart of gold to match.

He met her alongside her best friend, David Willows, early third year. When they came to him seeking help on becoming Animagi. He was quick to shut both of them down. While David glared and protested, Judith eased the bullheaded Hufflepuff and gave him a shy sad expression along with an apology for disturbing him.

At the time, he wasn’t sure why he suddenly changed his mind to help the two. But as he got older, he did realize it was because of her.

Something about Judith was familiar. And…

He didn’t like the sad look into those bright eyes…

After the two achieved their forms and helped him find his feather necklace, Judith and Talbott became closer. Even to the point where he followed her out to the cemetery and learned about her dead father, Kendrick, on the anniversary of his death.

That’s when he learned that she was a part of his past. 

That single day of his childhood where he made a friend. And developed a bond on a girl who he thought was unique with her long pretty locs and Caribbean accent.

With it being their 5th year, Talbott has gone on two dates with her. Their very first date out by the Black Lake and last year on Valentine’s Day when he learned that he has deeper feelings for her outside of a friendship.

He can still remember the sweet blush on her face after he shyly gave her a kiss on the cheek after gifting her with a heart statue.

Giving her a physical representation of his heart.

He fiddled with the ring she gifted him that day. He always remembers seeing it on a black chain around her neck on occasion. Judith was a person who cares about sentimental value so it’s very likely she gifted him something that has a level importance to her. But he was so stunned when she slipped it onto his finger, and that it fitted perfectly, while announcing that it was her Valentine’s Day gift to him that he forgot to ask…

Maybe today he will. After all, after the Ball, he had a special surprise for her.

Of course, there had to be some last minute changes when he realized a certain Slytherin witch ALSO planned on using the Library and two fairies also got into a squabble. He had at least a day to make the arrangement work and the “Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts” actually might of done him a favor.

It would be nice to revisit where their tale began.

Talbott sighed, looking over his appearance once more before turning on his heel and leaving his room.

‘I hope she likes what I planned. She’s the only who deserves to see this side of me,’ he thought as he made his way to the Great Hall.

——————

“C’mon Little Tigress! We’re gonna be late,” David huffed, knocking insistently on his best mate’s door.

“I look ridiculous! I’m not going anymore!” Came the stubborn reply from the other side. David rolled his eyes at Judith’s behavior.

They’ve been busting their asses to save the Valentine’s Day Ball from a lonely Madam Pince by using a pining Mr. Filch. However, due to all the planning and finally asking out Merula and Talbott (after Judith finally got over her initial shyness), they didn’t have time to style an outfit for themselves. So they went to the resident Style Wizard for help. 

David’s pick was easy.

Judith however… not so much.

It was fair to say that Judith was more than disgruntled as she looked in the reflection for the suit Andre put together.

“You lost your damn mind Egwu if you think I’m going to the Ball like this. I look like a mom in her mid-30s looking to speak to your manager to file a complaint.”

David was on the floor in tears when he saw the offended look on the Ravenclaw wizard’s face. To be fair, the suit plus the pixie cut that Andre magically put together wasn’t doing his best mate any favors.

However, she didn’t step out to show the dress to them. She tried it on, switch back into her normal clothes, and left without much of another word.

Now David was curious to what could be wrong with Andre’s design for her to believe she looked “ridiculous”.

“C’mon Judith. What’s wrong with it? Surely it can’t be as bad as that suit Andre design,” David coaxed.

“…It’s… a lot…” David wasn’t sure what to make of that and they’re gonna be late if Judith kept this up.

“Judith, it’s either you open the door willingly to show me what you’re talking about or I break into your room to see for myself. We don’t have time for this right now,” David huffed. He didn’t want to late with for his dance with Merula.

Silence ensued and David was half considering going through with his threat when the tell tale sound of the door unlocking hit his eyes. David turned the knob and walked in.

He paused when he took in the sight of his little friend.

Judith was wearing a short black dress decorated with pink and red roses. A small slit can be found on her right leg. White 3-inch open toe heels were on her feet. Her usual ear accessories and earrings were present. A familiar dark red lipstick, dark eyeshadow, and black eyeliner made an appearance on her face. Her hair was out from its normal twists, curls and coils tumbling down her back and a bang swept over her right eye.

“David,” Judith mumbled awkwardly as her friend stared at her. That seemed to have broke the spell on the wizard as he shook his head to recollect himself.

“Well I’ll be damned… you look far from ridiculous, Judith. You look beautiful,” David said with a smile. Judith blushed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You sure? It’s kind of revealing, don’t you think,” she asked. David cocked his head to the side, rescanning the girl from head to toe.

He could see her point, but it wasn’t as bad she probably thought it was.

The dress fitted her like glove, revealing the curves she was developing as a young woman. While the dress did show quite a bit of skin, it was still respectable.

“No, not really. To Bill and Orion, possibly but they’re big brothers who naturally want to keep every perverted wizard away from you. Hell, I may end up breaking someone’s teeth in if they think they can disrespect you like that. But you look beautiful Little Tigress, don’t think otherwise. Talbott would definitely agree with me,” David stated, watching his fellow Hufflepuff blushed at the name of the boy she’s been crushing on since third year.

David has been watching the two dance around each other since Judith admitted that she fancied the Ravenclaw wizard in the Charms classroom when practicing the Memory Charm. He was waiting for the two to finally get together already.

“If you’re done worrying, we still have a Ball to get to,” David said with a raised brow.

“But-EEP!” David already saw the protest in her eyes was quick to walk across the room and throw Judith over his shoulder. He only resorted to such measures when she was be difficult, and she was definitely being difficult.

“C’mon Little Tigress, your bird boy is waiting for you,” he said as he made his way out of her room. Judith spluttered over her words, mainly out of embarrassment at both what he said and the unnecessary position David has put her in.

“DAVID! Put me down, you brute! I’m in a dress for Merlin’s sake,” she protested loudly, wriggling in David’s unforgiving grip.

‘Damn demon lineage...’ she thought with a grimace.

“I'm well aware, we can clean you up when we're there with a spell, I not missing my chance to dance with Merula,” David said breezily. Judith gave up, allowing herself to be carried off like a sack of potatoes.

“Bloody sap... stupid dance,” she grumbled under her breath. David chuckled at her disgruntled mood.

“You’ll thank me for it by the end of the night, trust me,” he said. Judith pouted.

‘Assuming I don’t hide in a dark corner somewhere first...’

“Do that and I'm casting Lumos Maxima so there's nowhere for you to hide,” David said suddenly, nearly scaring the girl half to death. Judith mentally slapped her forehead out of exasperation. 

She should know better not to think aloud around David, seeing how they’re both Legilmens.

Damn it...

“Fine,” she huffed. Luckily for her, they finally arrived near the entrance of the Great Hall. David finally set her down, and casting a spell that made her look presentable again.

David offered his arm to her.

“Shall we, Little Tigress?” Judith felt her cheeks heating up at the thought of the person waiting on her inside the Great Hall before letting out a sigh. She took her best mate’s arm.

“I guess we shall...”

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

Talbott was chatting alongside with Merula, twirling a red rose between his hands when he heard a whistle. Both turned to make out the figures of their dates not too far from them.

David separated himself from his fellow Hufflepuff to walk up to the two. David gave Talbott a smirk and nodded over in Judith’s direction before stealing Merula away.

Talbott only raised a brow at the Hufflepuff wizard’s behavior before walking up to his date for the night. As he stood in front of her, any words that he was going to say to her, died at the tip of his tongue.

Talbott stared at his date, heart racing with a blush on the high points of his cheekbones as he looked at her from her curls to her high heeled shoes. The silence was starting to unnerve the Hufflepuff witch as her long time love interest stared at her without saying anything.

“Y-you clean up quite nicely, Talbott,” she blurted. She mentally smack herself immediately afterwards.

‘When did I become this awkward, goodness…’

However, seem to have done the trick and snapped Talbott back to reality.

“S-sorry, little bird. I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-It’s just that…” Talbott shook his head, trying to focus.

“It’s just that,” Judith echoed slowly, biting her bottom lip. She was worried that David might’ve been wrong and she looked like a fool in front of the boy she had feelings for.

Talbott stepped closer to her, tilting her head up by her chin so she could look at him. He offered a shy smile.

“You look beautiful, Judith. More lovely and temperate than a summer’s day,” He said softly, placing the rose he had behind her left ear. Judith blushed as she felt her heart race at his barely there touch.

“I-I… thank you, Talbott…” The Ravenclaw wizard smiled at the shy response. Behind them the instruments started seemed to be warming up to play the first song.

“May I have this dance,” Talbott asked, mock bowing to the girl. Judith giggled behind a red manicured hand.

“You may…” Taking her hand Talbott led Judith close to the center of the dance floor, with David and Merula standing not too far from them. The fairies that were lighting up the room swirled around the students, leaving them in awe at the magical moment. In the midst of this, David gave his friend a wink, who in turned returned it with an unimpressed glare. Judith returned her attention back to her date once she felt him take one of her hands

“I’m not usually one who likes public displays, but… I quite like this one… almost as much as I like you,” Talbott quietly admitted as he looked into pale gold eyes.

‘Is it possibly to pass out from blushing so much? Because I think I’m close…’ Judith thought as she ducked her head with a smile. Talbott was being so sweet and kind to her, she wanted to be wrapped up in his arms and dance the night away.

Judith looked back up at him with a teasing grin.

“I hope you like dancing too, because it’s our time to shine…”

————————

Talbott was smiling at the laughing girl in his arms as he spun her around. The two have been in their own little bubble ever since the dance started.

Their shy exteriors melted away leaving behind something much warmer and intimate. Anyone with eyes can see that they were clearly smitten with each other. Which were plenty watching them on occasion.

Red eyes darted around the Great Hall, finding the person he was looking for. He gave the Headmaster a subtle nod which he returned with a knowing smile. Talbott stepped back from Judith to clear his throat with a smile.

“All this dancing is making me thirsty, I think I’m gonna get a refreshment,” he said. Judith smiled at him, making his heart stutter in a lovestruck sigh.

“A refreshment sounds great, actually! I’ll go with you-” 

“N-no need! I-I’ll get one for you! Just...  stay right there,” Talbott stuttered before taking off. Judith’s brows furrowed in confused as she watch Talbott disappear in the darkness.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw the cheery smile of David.

“Cheers, Little Tigress! I see that I was right about you enjoying yourself,” he said with a grin. Judith glared and punched his arm.

“Cheeky bastard,” she growled. David laughed good naturedly while rubbing his arm.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Synde. Seeing how eager you were to get here and be with her,” she retorted. David shrugged.

“Mer said she going to get refreshments for the both of us. She actually suggest I go find you to see how your night was so far,” David replied. Gold eyes narrow out of suspicion.

“That’s a little odd. Talbott just let to do the same thing...”

“Was it? I found it very typical  of Miss Synde and Mr. Winger,” a third voice said. David and Judith turned to see the amused face of their Headmaster.

The pair chatted with Professor Dumbledore for a while when Judith noticed something was amiss.

“It’s bit awhile since Merula and Talbott went to get refreshments. Surely it can’t take that long,” Judith pondered out loud. Dumbledore smiled.

“Clever eye, Miss Harris. That’s because they’re no longer here and they personally asked me to distract you,” he chuckled. David and Judith glanced at each other before looking back up at Dumbledore.

“Professor,” David asked warily. Dumbledore chuckled.

“Mr. Willows, you can head to the library. Miss Harris... while Mr. Winger wasn’t explicit with the location for you to go to, he did say ‘Remember our first date’ as a clue. Enjoy the rest of your storybook fairytale night, you two. You deserve it,” Professor Dumbledore informed the pair with a knowing smile. 

Judith blushed walking out of the Great Hall with David. The two said their goodbyes as Judith made her way outside. Transforming into her Black Sparrowhawk, she couldn’t help but wonder what Talbott had planned at the Black Lake...

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

Judith landed on the shore and transformed back, only to be surprised to find who was waiting for her.

“Lily,” she asked as the little fairy flew around her, buzzing out of excitement. 

What was her little friend doing all the way out here?

The magical creature took ahold of her hand, tugging her to the Boat house. 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Just slow down, I am wearing heels after all,” she laughed gently. Judith followed the excited fairy inside only to freeze at the door way.

Standing inside was Talbott. The place looked to have been cleaned out. Numerous fairies including her own lit up the Boathouse in a soft glow. Rose petals scattered the floor, along with some candles. A large heart made up of different colored roses was hung up behind the Ravenclaw wizard. A small table with some chairs of some of the food and drinks form the Ball sat in a corner. Somewhere in the background, there was soft music playing as well.

Talbott walked up to the stunned Hufflepuff witch and took her hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, little bird,” he spoke softly. Judith shook her head out of disbelief. 

“W-what is all this, Talbott,” she asked. The young man bit his lip.

“I-I... I may have been planning this while I was at the Owlery... I wanted to surprise you. While I did originally plan to do this in the Library, someone else had the same idea... So I’d figured the Black Lake was the next best thing. I did have some help putting this together,” Talbott admitted.

Lily buzzed, as if she was giggling at the two. Judith rose a brow at her Fairy’s cheeky behavior before chuckling.

“I just thought that... after everything you’ve done for Hogwarts, for me, you deserved a storybook romance,” Talbott said. Judith rescanned the room before offering a smile.

“I had no idea that you could be such a romantic, Talbott. But clearly you are.” Talbott blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I guess all that poetry paid off...”

--------

The pair sat and ate, chatting in between. Talbott giving going as far to feed Judith a bit of a cupcake. He ended blushing when he felt her lips touch his fingers tips as she let out a pleased moan. 

Currently they were slow dancing in the middle of the room, listening to the music softly playing in the background.

“This is really amazing, Talbott,” Judith spoke up, daring to look up at red eyes that reminded her of rubies.

“You’re the amazing one, Judith. I was simply following my heart,” Talbott replied, squeezing her closer. That foreign yet familiar scent that clung onto the Hufflepuff filled his nose.

“O-Oh stop it. I am not,” Judith insisted with a nervous laugh. Having Talbott so close to her was causing her heart to beat faster than normal. Talbott stopped dancing in favor of holding her hands. His gaze was unwavering.

“I mean it, little bird. You made this Valentine’s Day  perfect for everyone, even Flich and Pince... And especially for me,” Talbott confessed. Pearly whites flashed at him.

“All I wanted was a magical Valentine’s Day with my date,” Judith started, glancing down for a quick moment to gather herself before looking back up at Talbott through her lashes.

“...And... And I’m so happy that date is you...” And she was. Truly. 

Talbott was the picture perfect gentleman. And the fact he went through great lengths to make Valentine’s Day memorable for her reminded her of happier times from her childhood. Except now it was with someone who likes her for her. 

She hasn’t felt this special in years...

Talbott urged his heart to calm down as he reached for his wand.

“I feel the same way, Judith. And I... made something for you...” Stepping back, Talbott casted a spell, causing a book to appear. Judith blinked out of surprise at the book that hovered between them. Carefully reaching for it, she opened it to a random page somewhere in the beginning.

“...The loner poet listened to the Howler professed the words he wasn’t aware that lived in his heart. Speaking of a deep longing for a girl with otherworldly pale gold eyes. To never leave him because when he looks into her unique irises, he can see future. A future where he would wake up to them every morning. A future where he would look at child with the same eyes as her. A future that would lead to forever together.

He felt his heart stall in his chest, itching to cast a spell to light the Howler ablaze to prevent its words being heard by unwanted ears. It was then he smelled her before he heard her.

A hint of sea breeze that made him feel like he was standing so close the never-ending ocean. Chocolate that reminded him of her skin tone. A variety of fainter sweet scents, most he couldn’t name but the one he could pick out was honey.

Her melodious low voice sung to his eardrums:

“Hey, what did your Valentine Howler say?” He swiftly turned to find pale gold eyes curiously looking up at him. He could feel his heart speed up when he connected the dots.

It was her.

She was the one his heart longed for.

Everything that has transpired that day and this revelation became too much for the loner poet to take. He was quick to deny that his Howler hasn’t said anything, using the opportunity their teacher has created to leave the classroom. 

He needed time. Time to think of what to do next...”

Judith was so engrossed in words written on the page that she didn’t realize that Talbott was now standing behind her.

“It’s not finished, more so of a... work in progress for an ongoing story...” Judith jumped a little when she felt his breath ghost over her visible ear.

“This is about you,” she whispered, releasing the book to float again. She turned to find Talbott staring down at her with half lid eyes.

“It’s about you and me, little bird,” he whispered, cupping one of her cheeks. Judith closed her eyes, leaning into his warm touch. 

There was a shift in the air and she nervous but secretly excited to where this could lead...

Talbott withdrew for a moment forcing Judith to open her eyes again. She notice a heart shaped key necklace in his hand.

“What’s that,” she asked quietly.

“This is the key that unlocks the book. I made it be this way so you can wear it like a necklace. So our story would always be with you,” Talbott answered, carefully placing the it around her neck. A full body shiver raked Judith’s body when she felt the tips of his finger ghost over the sensitive skin.

“I... I never had someone put this much effort for me. To bare your feelings like this, Talbott... I... I don’t know what to say,” Judith confessed quietly. She could barely hear her own voice over the roar of blood rushing to her face combined with the sound of her heartbeat pounding against her eardrums.

Talbott caressed her cheek again.

“I don’t expect an answer from you right away little bird. I’m more than happy to do this for you. You’re the only one who deserves to see this side of me...” Talbott leaned closer aiming to place a kiss on her cheek. Much like he did last year.

What Judith did next surprised both of them. 

Turning her head ever so slightly, she caught Talbott’s lips with her own. This stunned the pair, both remaining motionlessly for a few moments. Just as the Ravenclaw wizard was about to pull back, Judith held him there by his tie, pressing against him. Her painted lips moved against his unresponsive ones slowly, testing the waters and his resolve.

After a moment of deliberation, Talbott gave in and returned the unexpected kiss. With one hand cupping her face, its twin finding refuge on her lower back, pushing her closer still. Judith released his tie in favor of wrapping her arms around his neck, melting in his embrace. Both of them were placed under a cloudy haze as their lips continued to move against one another.

The pair broke apart for air, foreheads resting against one another. Talbott silently licked his lips, picking up the taste of vanilla.

‘She tastes just as sweet as she looks. Good Gods help me...’ came the helpless thought as he found himself at the end of Judith’s sultry stare. 

‘What are you doing to me, Talbott? Why do I feel this way towards you...’

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Talbott,” Judith whispered, placing a soft kiss against the corner of his lips. Talbott shivered at the sound of her voice, which has dipped down an octave. Her accent came out, loud and clear. His hands, which has migrated to her waist, squeezed down on the curve for a few seconds.

He could listen to her speak to him like this for hours...

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Judith... Thank you for being my valentine...” Judith let out soft chuckle, pulling him in for another kiss.

In the midst of this an involuntary thought passed through her mind. One which would shatter the Hufflepuff witch later on.

‘I love you, Talbott...’

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

Some time has passed since the Valentine’s Day Ball. Judith more or less went back to her life as per usual. 

With occasional outing with Talbott when classes and working for Rakepick became too much for her.

It was late at night and she was at the shore of the Black Lake, practicing her spellwork. She always wanted to remain sharp on her skills and it was a way for her to prepare for the upcoming O.W.L.S., which was approaching fast.

She decided to practice the Patronus Charm, seeing how she hasn’t casted it in awhile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

What came out of the tip of her wand shocked her.

Instead of her usual Siberian Tiger was a-

“G-Golden E-Eagle?!” Her eyes watched as the avian predator flew above her before disappearing. 

She shocked her head, not believing what she just saw.

Over and over again, she casted the spell, waiting to see her beloved tiger. Only to watch the animal that came out soar its wings above her.

Her legs gave out from beneath her. 

“No, no, no! How can this be happening?! Patronuses don’t change,” she panicked. A vague memory came resurfaced in her mind.

“Though I have heard of Patronuses changing forms after falling in love...” Judith’s eyes widen.

That voice belonged to Tonks when they were dealing with the Dementor threat from last year.

Another memory surfaced, however, much older...

“Gift this ring to the one your heart desires above all others. It will only fit and accept that one person, anyone else, it’ll reject and return to you...” Tears ran down her cheeks. When she realized what memory it was.

“Gran-Gran...” came the broken whisper. Her grandmother gifted her a magical blue and silver ring before she died. The same ring she gave to Talbott just a year prior. She didn’t remember her dear grandmother’s words when she gave it to him. 

Now that she thought about it, the ring never returned to her. And it was on Talbott’s left ring finger the night of the Ball.

Even as she kissed him, those three words that haunted her since childhood has crossed her flowery dazed mind.

She couldn’t do anything but face the truth. To speak the words that haunted her in form of a Boggart from third year.

“I love Talbott Winger...”

And she was secretly terrified.

Because she knew if he were to confess the same, she was done for.

Her heart would be his. 

And risk breaking if he were to ever leave...

[orderoftheavengers]

Scarlet Legilimens

House: Ravenclaw

Species: Human/phoenix hybrid (formerly human)

Blood Status: Pureblood

(Pointless) Wand: Cherry, 13 inches, phoenix feather  

(Pointless) Broom: Firebolt Supreme

Patronus: Red-billed firefinch

Specialty: Legilimency, Occlumency, Flying, Dark Arts, Wandless Magic

Sorting

Wanda Maximoff is a living example of how the traits of Ravenclaw House may be applied to the most heinous villainy, and the most self-sacrificing heroism. As a villain, she is crafty and manipulative; as a hero, clever and intuitive. Her fighting style, for good or evil, is always more sneaky and innovative than “bold.” Ironically, her mind is also her weakest point as well as her strongest, as poor Wanda continuously ends up as the manipulated as often as the manipulator. A born Legilimens, her abilities, strengths and flaws are all mind related.

Note the “cleverness” and “ready mind” mentioned by the Sorting Hat needn’t always come in the form of a bookish nerd, as Luna Lovegood, Sybil Trelawney, Profeesor Quirrel and Professor Lockheart are all Ravenclaw. Wanda may not spend her free time studying or watching the Discovery Channel, but she does spend much of it experimenting with her powers, and letting her imagination loose. When faced with unbearable loss, she wasn’t immediately able to face her grief head-on, like a Gryffindor; nor, as a corrupt Ministry leader lied, did she try to resurrect her lost lover; instead, she escaped into her own mind, imagining up an (almost) complete fictitious life for herself and Vision, in a matter of seconds, without even realizing she was doing it.

Wanda is capable of impressive courage, ambition and loyalty, to be sure; but all of those things have wavered, when her reality was turned upside-down. She shed years of indoctrination after reading Ultron’s mind and seeing the grim truth. (And yes, she can read a machine’s mind! That’s a Ravenclaw right there.)

Durmstrang Experiments

Wanda and her twin brother Pietro were born to wizarding parents, in the tiny European nation of Sokovia. Wanda was a born Legilimens, like Queenie Goldstein, able to peek into others’ minds without having to perform any spells. A poor family, their father made ends meet by enchanting posters and lobby cards of old Muggle sitcoms to play out entire episodes, which he then sold to Muggle-enthusiasts in the wizarding world. Their home was decimated by a spell invented by Tony Stark, who never intended for it to end up in the claws of banshee terrorists. The twins ended up in a crap Muggle orphanage, which only intensified their prejudices. By the time they entered Durmstrang, a school infamous for professors that supported Dark Magic and even Voldemort, they were ripe for indoctrination and radicalization.

Due to Wanda’s being a Legilimens, the twins were selected for a dangerous experiment by their headmaster Professor Beowulf Von Stucker. Using the Mind Stone, the twins were to be fused with their wands. Wanda’s first name suddenly became very appropriate, a la Remus Lupin. Wanda merged with her phoenix-feathered wand, transforming the born Legilimens into a powerful human/phoenix hybrid. Her telepathic powers were enhanced, and she gained many powers of a phoenix, including flight, inhuman strength for her levitation spells, and being nearly indestructible. Being part wand also made her able to do wandless magic with no effort. Pietro, meanwhile, was merged with his Veela-hair wand, making him a human/Veela hybrid, and gifting him with a Veela’s dancing speed and silvery hair.

(A very special thanks to AlasterBoneman for the idea about Wanda's wand being integrated into her body.) Order of the Avengers Wanda and Pietro are finishing up their first year when they cross paths with the Order of the Avengers, and they don't exactly make a good first impression. Their vitriol against the Avengers and Tony Stark makes very little sense, especially given that Wanda is a telepath, and should easily see they aren't the villains (not to mention how much she has in common with Natasha, whose life story Wanda personally digs up). But, the twins are still only about eleven, and kids that age can be pretty stupid. The Avengers trace Loki's confiscated broom-scepter to Durmstrang, where the dark wizards from the Order of Hydra are keeping it. Wanda, having recently studied with a Boggart, uses her Legillimency to make the Avengers relive their traumas. Tony's fear shows Wanda that he clearly wants to protect the world, and yet she makes the very un-Ravenclaw decision to keep pursuing "revenge." Her plan inadvertently leads to Tony and Bruce accidentally creating a dangerous and ear-bleedingly-irritating gargoyle named Ultron, who the twins personally work with. Wanda even shocks Bruce into green-wolf form, and sends him on a rampage through one of the dormitories at Durmstrang (but it's not her or Pietro's House, so she could care less). Finally, after much too long, she puts her mental powers to some use, and reads Ultron's mind. That's when she puts two and two together. By then, Ultron has unleashed an army of Cornish Pixies to levitate Durmstrang Castle miles into the air, planning to drop it in an explosion of magic that will alert the Muggles to the existence of wizards. Huddled in a swaying castle tower, she confesses her guilt to Hufflepuff Clint Barton. Clint invites her to redeem herself by joining the Avengers. Durmstrang is saved, but sadly, Pietro takes a killing curse for Clint and another first year. wrought with grief and guilt, wanda begins her second year of schooling at Hogwarts, where--after an unusually long time on the stool--she is sorted into Ravenclaw. Her lonely mood is raised slightly when she finds the attractive new Golem, Vision, hovering to the Ravenclaw table alongside her.

The Scarlet Witch Hunt

Perhaps living on her own for a while is what finally helps Wanda regain the confidence to think for herself. When Vision suggests that they both drop out of their respective schools and just run off together, she urges him against the idea. When Vision senses a disturbance in his Mind Stone, she inspects it for him, but reports, “I just feel you.”

They are interrupted by a rude crowd of Trolls under their window, calling for Wanda’s blood. She’s fine to ignore them, but Vision—ever the logical Ravenclaw—is compelled intellectually argue with the Trolls in his lady's honor.

“Wanda is a redemption-seeking-antihero like Tony, who she has not expressed any hatred for since the Ultron fiasco—not even during the whole ‘Civil War’ calamity! In fact, of everyone on Team Cap, she was the least awful to Tony! The only verbal exchange between them during the whole drunk Quidditch match was a brief pout about being 'locked in her room,' which she had no problem with until Hawkeye came and pressured her. She was literally the only person in the Squid prison not insulting him! And just a few minutes ago, when I wanted her to run away with me, she was telling me to keep my loyalties to Stark, and when the news reported him missing she was visibly scared for him! Seriously, where are you Trolls even getting that she still hates Tony?”

One Troll with particularly long horns shouts back, “Well what about that cleavage and slutty red leather? Tony Stark was never a slu—er, wait…”

Vision is now standing in the window frame, unbuttoning his fly.

“Vision?” Wanda asks nervously. “What are you doing?”

A glittering, purple stream poursd out from her boyfriend’s “better wand,” threatening to deface the crowd below.

“Vision no!” she cries, quickly containing the violet river in an energy ball.

Steady hand…    she carefully lifts the ball of glistening liquid higher and higher into the air. …Not gonna screw this one up—

“I say Wanda, is that a giant flying donut?” Vision asks curiously.

Wanda glances up, and there is indeed a gargantuan space donut in the night sky, coming right for them. The strange sight distracts her, causing her hand to slip—just as she’s levitating Visions liquids right over said donut.

This enchanted pastry is in fact the vessel of some of Thanos’s most vicious minions. And Wanda has just drenched them in Vision’s you-know-what.

While Wanda gasps behind her hand, Vision suggests, “Let’s go for a walk.”

On their way down the quiet lamp-lit streets, they are soon stopped by a group of Thanos’s putrid goblin children, currently slightly more putrid than usual.

A blue female goblin roars, “Now you’ve really succeeded in pissing us off!”

Before she can stop herself, Wanda blurts out, “Pissed off? Smells more to me like you ‘been pissed on!”

Somewhere, a boxing bell dings, and a badass wizard’s duel begins.

Just when Wanda and Vision are cornered, a train passes by, causing all parties to freeze dramatically for no apparent reason. Wanda tries to make her body move, to take this opportunity to blast her opponents, but some force has her glued in place, as low music hisses theatrically throughout the night. The train passes, to reveal a shadowy figure, posing heroically. Instead of shooting the figure with a hex, one of the goblins simply throws a spear, which the figure catches expertly. Wanda and Vision both know that there is only one person on the planet would could make an entrance with this much ham and cheese.

Steve Rogers dramatically stepped into the light, revealing his fluffy new beard, and the duel gets a bit more epic.

Oh Snap

In the wizarding nation of Wakanda, Black Panther’s brilliant sister Shuri does her damndest to save her fellow Ravenclaw, and safely remove the Infinity Stone from Vision’s forehead. Sadly, Thanos’s forces overwhelm her, and Wanda is forced to kill her lover--the last family she has left. Many would assume only a Gryffindor would have the resolve to do this, but a Ravenclaw’s wisdom and pragmatism can go a long way.

Ever the sadist, that purple f*ck Thanos uses the Time Stone to resurrect Vision and kill him again, in front of Wanda, and even has the gault "comfort" her in a patronizing manner.

And yet, she’s not so distraught when Thanos’s Dusting curse comes for her. It could be that she’s so despaired by now that she welcomes death. Or maybe the half-phoenix simply doesn’t react to dissolving into ash the same way other beings might…

…in any case, she is resurrected over the summer by Bruce Banner. Vision, sadly, isn’t. In her grief, Wanda accidently traps herself and the entire school of Hogwarts inside the Mirror of Erised, but that's another story entirely. 

Wand, Broom and Patronus

Cherry wood is associated with some of the most powerful and lethal wands.  Phoenix feather wands are considered to have the widest range of magic, and are among the post powerful, yet also the most difficult to tame. 

The red-billed firefinch is one of the few bird species where the females sport some red coloring. These birds are tiny and quiet, but very active. They are flexible about where they live and with whom; they can mix with other bird species, and can live in the wild or captivity, provided they always have plenty of space. Their nests are different from other birds', having a dome shape and being low in bushes. Not unlike the hidden fortress Wanda creates, to hide her family. These crafty birds also build mock-nests to fool predators.  

AN: This has undergone some changes in both the story and image, since the release of "WandaVision." If anyone is for any reason attached to Wanda's old broom, the previous version is saved in my Stash. I plan to reuse that fire design somewhere else, possibly for Harry's Firebolt in my more serious Potter art.

[anotherfacelessauthor]

Sirius’ new style - excerpt from By The Moon

Year 5

September, 1975

Remus Lupin was already sitting down in the compartment, legs tucked into his chest, eyes glued to the most recent escapist novel he’d found over the summer, when he heard the door open. As Sirius Black walked in, sporting a leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans, and a black eye, Remus thought he’d forgotten how to breathe.

He looked more confident than ever (not that confidence was anything Sirius had ever lacked) and casually leaned against the doorframe, a few cheap silver necklaces swaying around his neck. He could hear the faint click as they rattled against each other. Remus got the strange urge to take his picture—capture the moment before it was over and could leave his mind forever. He also wanted to submit to new, surprisingly strong impulses, screaming at him to reach out and grab the jewelry in his hand, pull the other boy into a fierce kiss—“‘Sup Moony?” Sirius asked innocently, as if nothing had changed since they’d gotten off the Hogwarts Express a few months prior.

“Sirius! You’ve—uh… changed,” was all Remus could spit out, mentally banging his head against the wall. You’ve changed? That’s all you’ve got? Your best mate got really fuckin’ hot over the summer and all you can say is you’ve changed?

But Sirius laughed it off, brushing a hand through his long hair. His nails had chipped black paint and a few shiny rings were scattered—one on his thumb, two on his ring finger, one in the middle—“Yeah, I switched up my style a bit haven’t I? Had a new friend help me out with that. D’you like it?” His demeanor shifted just slightly, from completely carefree, to a bit more interested. Remus barely noticed.

Like it? Bloody hell—wear that everyday and I’ll never focus in lessons again—

“Looks good, yeah." Remus swallowed. "More you.” He paused, wondering if he should address… “What happened to your eye?”

Sirius looked confused for a second, as if he’d completely forgotten about the giant bruise covering half his face, “Oh, this old thing? Nothing special, just—”

But Remus had stood up to get a closer look, revealing just how much taller he’d gotten over the summer and the rest of Sirius’ sentence stuck in his throat.

“Bloody hell Moony, you’ve grown!” Sirius exclaimed, stumbling back and looking Remus up and down, trying to swallow back all the thoughts that had been swimming in his head all summer. Sirius tried, and failed, to hide the shock as he bumped up against the sliding glass doors of the compartment. He couldn't look away. Remus looked effortlessly cool, sweater and jean jacket and another book hanging loosely, forgotten in his hands. The soft curls, the familiar freckles, the healing scars—Sirius felt warmth rising in his cheeks. Who’s that one person that feels like home… who holds your world in the palm of their hand without either of you noticing? He shook off the memory like a dog shaking off water and sat down.

Not a problem for today.

Before the moment could turn awkward, the last two Marauders showed up, babbling about their summers and how James was back and better than ever, ready to win over Lily Evans.

“Merlin, James, are you ever going to give it a rest?” Remus joked, turning away from Sirius to avoid staring. He felt himself falling back into the mess of yearning and want that had consumed him in third year, and Remus was desperately trying to claw himself out. With the OWLs coming up, he had no time for hopeless pining. Plus, he was still curious about the black eye but figured if Sirius didn’t tell him alone, he certainly wouldn’t be more willing to do so in front of the others.

***

Something that took both Sirius and Remus by surprise on the train ride was the astonishing number of girls who stopped by the Marauder's compartment to wave at Sirius, and giggle when he waved back, running a casual hand through his hair.

It was only after the fifth group passed by, a couple of Ravenclaw fourth years, that James asked, “Oi, Pads. How’re you doing that?” He paused, “And d’ya think it’d work on Evans?”

Sirius just shrugged, “I’m not doing anything. Just my natural charm—plus I got better looking over the summer. It’s a shame it didn’t happen to you—” he was cut off by James’ fist knocking into his shoulders, right on one of the healing bruises, causing Sirius to take in a sharp breath. He tried to play it off, knocking James right back, avoiding Remus’ eyes, but he could tell he’d noticed.

Lily stopped by as they were still touselling—to the excitement of James, who immediately straightened up and ruffled his hair, and the second hand excitement of Peter—but she barely acknowledged them, turning instead towards Remus.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the compartment door. “What are you doing?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Prefects are meeting in our carriage in five minutes, c’mon get changed!”

“Oh shit—” Remus began rummaging through his things frantically.

The other boys sat back in astonishment. Peter was the first to speak, “No.”

“You’re saying—”

“Our Moony—”

“A prefect?!”

Remus dug out a shiny badge, and the compartment exploded once more.

“How dare you—”

“Why didn’t you tell us!”

“Does this mean you can take points away from Severus when he’s being a blood-purist prat—” James turned around to face Lily awkwardly, “Sorry.” He looked back at Remus and whispered, “But does it?”

Remus sighed, still digging around for his robes. “Yes, I’m a prefect, I got the letter over the summer. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this, and no, James, I will not be taking away points from Slytherin unless someone actually breaks a rule.”

“Damn. Guess that’s why Dumbledore made you prefect over me.”

“Yeah,” Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes, “that was the only reason why.”

Remus stumbled out of the compartment, pulling on his robes and pinning his prefect badge to his chest. He and Lily were halfway down the corridor when Sirius came running out. Remus tried not to think about how perfect he looked, hair flowing as he jogged.

“Rem!” He held up a red and gold tie, and Remus looked down, realizing he didn’t have his. His cheeks flushed red.

“Oh, thanks,” he said as Sirius caught up with them, panting slightly. “I, uh—”

“Yeah, you can’t tie a tie quickly Moony, I know. We’ve lived in the same dormitory for four years now.” Sirius stepped forward and began wrapping the fabric around Remus’ neck and popped up the collar on his white shirt, having to reach up slightly now that Remus stood almost a head taller than him. Remus was hyper aware of how very close to him Sirius was standing, feeling every brush of his soft hands, cold rings against the nape of his neck sending a new swarm of butterflies.

Lily stifled a giggle while Sirius’ hands flew, “You’re a prefect and you can’t tie a tie?”

“I can! It just… takes a few tries to get it right.”

Sirius tightened the knot, laying the tie flat and tucking it into Remus’ sweater. Remus hoped he couldn’t feel his heartbeat racing. It was so loud in his own ears he could hardly hear anything else. “There you go!” He adjusted it once more, laying the collar flat. “Good luck in there. Don’t let them turn you into a goody-two shoes prat—no offense Lily—”

“None taken.”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Got it?”

Remus held his hands up in surrender, feeling like he was going to burn up if Sirius stayed that close to him, just a breath away, for even a moment longer. “Got it, Pads.”

They stood there for half a second before Lily tugged Remus away, saying, “C’mon Remus, we’re gonna be late,” but it felt like ages. Remus, looking into Sirius’ stormy grey eyes, which were so intently fixed on him, as if he were everything that mattered in that moment. Remus shook his head, trying to erase the shock. He was making things up again, feeding into a third year fantasy of a Sirius Black who liked him back, and now Lily was dragging him toward the prefect’s compartment.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Lily whispered, pulling on his sleeve.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lily.” Remus tried to keep his emotions concealed, his face stony.

“You don’t still like him, do you?” When he didn’t respond, she squealed with delight, “Oh you do! This is so exciting! Who’s gonna—”

“Lil, please don’t do this. I don’t wanna get my hopes up all over again. He’s not even gay! And he doesn’t know I’m—”

“You haven’t told them?”

Remus scratched his neck awkwardly, “Well, I was gonna get to it… and then I just—” but before he had to make up some lame excuse as to why he hadn’t come out to his three closest friends, the pair reached the door to the prefect’s carriage and hurried in.

Remus barely listened the whole train ride. The Head Boy droned on and on about ‘personal responsibility’ and ‘being model students’ and some other shit about the prefects’ duties which had already been listed in the letter sent over the summer.

He tried not to think about Sirius Black and his new clothes and long hair and black eye, but it was useless. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment Sirius had come into the compartment over and over again in his mind, and the way Sirius had stayed so close to him, even after finishing tying his tie. What he really tried not to do, and somehow managed to do (for the most part) was think about holding Sirius’ hand, or kissing Sirius’ lips and neck and-

Hello! The sensible voice in Remus’ voice screamed in protest. He’s still your best mate and this little crush reviving doesn’t change that.  

So Remus tried to listen to the Head Girl who was now discussing the amenities that were only accessible to prefects. He figured this could at least be a bit useful at some point this year.

***

Continue reading on Ao3

[calleo-bricriu]

Hey there! I just found you and honestly your readings are soooo coool, may I have one about my future love life too? Will I meet someone and how will they be? Possible star sign? AND ALSO PLEASE THIS IS IMPORTANT : when i first made the sorting hat Test I was a Ravenclaw but after a couple years it started changing to gryffndor and then back to ravenclaw and I’m having the biggest identity crisis.. can you help me on this? What house am I? Hope this is not to much..if it is just ignore me haha

Oh also i don’t know if you need this but I’m 23 male and a libra! Btw I don’t see a sign that reading are open on your blog and got a bit ahead of myself so if they’re closed right now I’m very sorry, I mean no offense! Thank you anyways and have a great day! :)

Oh, I just do these for fun.

That said, your house is not an identity nor is it any sort of useful personality trait; once you're not at school any longer it's 100% irrelevant.

Star signs are also not a personality trait nor are they relevant to any aspect of your life (that's just something people use to try and excuse poor behaviour on their part; you didn't do the thing because you're a Gemini or a Scorpio or an Ares or any other sign, you did it because you were being inconsiderate and not thinking your actions or words through; you're not incompatible with someone because of their sign either, you're incompatible with them due to basic personality conflicts or conflicting wants/needs out of a relationship), they're just little tidbits of facts and have no actual influence or impact on anything.

If you're referring to 'quizzes' that tell you what house you ought to be in, I'd invite you to read up on confirmation bias. That applies to thinking you're a certain way because of your star sign; confirmation bias will give you that truth because you want it to be the truth,

Those are designed to be easily manipulated to give the answers the person taking them wants based on their mood at the time; I can guarantee you I could take any one and get a different result based on my mood at the time of taking them.

Do not base any part of your identity around a house at a school or your zodiac sign, it doesn't make you somehow more interesting or desirable; if anything, it's a red flag that indicates you aren't willing or capable of taking responsibility for your own actions or reactions.

Anyone who tells you otherwise is probably getting paid to tell you otherwise.

Remember: If you're paying them, they'll want to keep you as a repeat customer and will likely tell you what they know you want to hear.

In this case, what you want to hear is that you'll meet your soulmate soon and that you're definitely Ravenclaw.

I doubt the latter given your belief that it matters in the slightest and, as I'm not getting paid, I couldn't possibly care less whether or not you'll meet someone, what they'll be like, or their star sign (which is, of course, completely irrelevant).

Just to give an example, from what you said in these I already know several things about you and, were you paying me, would be able to easily tailor a reading to play into exactly what you want to hear.

Things that were made clear by information you voluntarily offered:

- You're a bit on the insecure side. - You're a bit immature, which is indicated clearly by you being well beyond school age and borderline obsessing over your house. - You're single, obviously. - And you don't want to be.

Cards weren't necessary to give me that information, you offered it up freely, and when you're paying someone, they will absolutely tell you what you want to hear to keep you coming back as a customer.

Be extremely wary of people who make you pay to do tarot/rune/other readings; they take seconds to do and, with the information provided the customer, are extremely low effort.

At least, they are for me.

Similarly, be wary of anyone who wants you to pay for them to perform a spell or ritual for you; it likely won't do anything at all beyond a placebo effect as the rituals/spells they offer are things that you need to do yourself if you want them to benefit you and not the one casting them.

That, and if you're trying to put something negative out there, most will know how to rework it so any negative consequences they might get hit with for doing that sort of thing hit you and not them.

At any rate, the way this deck often prattles on, it spends the first few cards confirming who we're talking about, and that's what it's done here.

I was right in that little list.

You're insecure, likely have abandonment issues due to past relationships (romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise), have a hard time trusting people, have a tendency to be overly dramatic which can and will drive people away eventually, if you have had relationships in the past you're either not over them or are still damaged from how they ended and haven't taken steps to heal and move on, and that, where relationships are concerned while you can be exciting and spontaneous, you can also be incredibly fickle and very likely aren't at a place in terms of mental health or maturity to handle a commitment.

This is where it starts to bridge out into what you asked and it starts, where the Fool left off in the paragraph above, by indicating that, for the time being, all you're likely to find are what amounts to whirlwind romances that don't last all that long.

The Nine of Wands backs that up in terms of future romance, and also goes back to mentioning that you need to deal with all of those issues above before anyone is going to be able to put up with you long term.

Six of Cups typically revolves around immaturity and occasionally an ex or someone you had wanted to have a relationship with coming back into your life.

Three of Cups backs up that, "Someone from your past returning" or a dry spell, as it were, ending.

You'll need to start working on your issues if you want anything to last, however.

Hm. The deck doesn't seem to want to move on, it's repeating itself in the sense of, "Fix your issues, even the ones you're in denial about or don't want to face." That includes fear of rejection (that would be the Two of Swords in this case).

While the Two of Cups does indicate you'll meet someone with whom you have a strong connection and mutual attraction, cards in a reading are not islands; the cards around them matter, and all of the previous cards to this one were very, very clear in that you need to get yourself together, likely via professional means, before even the most attracted to you person is going to be able to tolerate the level of insecurity, drama, and baggage you'll also bring to the table.

This isn't, "you need to love yourself" nonsense, it's, "you need to deal with your mental health, your tendency to be overly dramatic where no drama is necessary, and self esteem issues so you're on relatively stable ground."

The Ace of Wands following the Two of Cups is a fairly blunt statement to forget any fear of rejection and let the other person know you're interested. If you sit around waiting for someone to just turn up for you, you're probably going to be waiting for a very long time as reality just doesn't work that way very often.

And it's finally moved on to the second bit you were asking about: What that person will be like.

Unfortunately for you, the old proverb "in cauda venenum" applies to this person. They'll initially come off as generous, completely devoted, doting, giving you everything you could possibly want. They'll give you all the support, stability, and positive influence you could ever ask for.

...and then they'll either get bored or get tired of having to play the part of your partner and therapist (see everything above) and leave. The  Five of Swords also has heavy connotations around abuse so it's equally possible that they were never the kind, loving person they let you think they were until they knew they had their claws firmly into you and, once they know you're too wrapped around their finger to ever leave, they'll start with slow, subtle abuse, gaslighting, making you feel like they're the only one who will ever love you, etc...of course, to the public, they'll be a loving, kind martyr who puts up with what they'll tell others is YOUR poor behaviour because they love you that much, all of which can eventually lead to physical abuse, especially if they get the feeling that you're going to try and leave.

Whichever it is, the Five of Swords in terms of relationships is never a good thing.

The star sign of this person is irrelevant, but one typically sees behaviour like that in people who take star signs far too seriously and are also Gemini, Scorpio, literally any fire sign, and Libra.

All in all,  you need to work on yourself before you start jumping into relationships in any serious capacity. If you're not already getting professional mental health help that includes therapy, start as soon as possible.

As for the House thing, again, it's entirely irrelevant, you're 23, you've not been school age for some time now. Absolutely and literally nobody cares what your house is past the time you left school. It has no bearing on identity.

Ordinarily, I'd be able to tell you that based on the deck's description of you but there is no house that has an encompassing trait of, "complete mess", so I'll see if it'll give me a little more clarity.

...and it's given me a muddled mess of repeating itself but under the pervasive traits that keep getting repeated throughout the last--however many cards I've drawn now--a recurring theme, though usually in the negative sense of holding on to things that should have been long since let go and moved on from, is loyalty to those you choose to be loyal to even when it becomes self-destructive, and hard work, primarily to avoid having to let go. Keep in mind that any positive trait can easily turn dark, as it were, when misapplied or taken to the level of obsession.

That would indicate Hufflepuff but, let's see if I can get the deck to stop twisting the knife as we've already been over enough of that.

Devoted, compassionate, caring, generous, with the Wheel and Two of Pentacles indicating that this isn't the answer you wanted, which I also could have told you because you seemed hellbent on hearing Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.

While the Page of Swords has some brief flashes of Ravenclaw traits (inquisitive, curious, etc...) as before, cards do not stand on their own in a reading and nearly everyone has those fairly generic traits.

It moves on going back to more traits that point toward Hufflepuff: Down to earth, sensible in general, a nurturing/caretaker type, loyalty, being able to easily make people feel welcome.

The Queen of Swords backs that up in both traits along the lines of being empathetic, welcoming, fair, and, when representing a person, an air sign.

Libra, as I'm sure you know, is an air sign.

Sounds like Hufflepuff to me.

[fiinalgiirls]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

FULL NAME - genevieve sloane channing NICKNAMES - neve GENDER / PRONOUNS - she/her DATE OF BIRTH - february 12, 1988 PLACE OF BIRTH - portland, oregon CITIZENSHIP / ETHNICITY - united states american; irish, scottish, welsh RELIGION - atheist / agnostic SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS / POLITICAL AFFILIATION - grew up very low socioeconomic status in ne portland, before the gentrification, but is now considered middle class due to her nurse’s salary. she’s liberal. MARITAL STATUS - single ( previously engaged ). SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION - bisexual, leaning more towards an attraction to men. EDUCATION / OCCUPATION - bachelor’s of science in nursing; emergency nurse LANGUAGES - english, spanish, and a few small phrases pertaining to medical emergencies in vietnamese and russian.

FAMILY INFORMATION.

PARENTS - doug and paula channing, both deceased. SIBLINGS - none OFFSPRING - none PETS / OTHER - robocop ( a black and white siberian husky ). i’d also like her to get a cat at some point ! give me this plot point !! NOTABLE EXTENDED FAMILY - none

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

FACECLAIM - adelaide kane HAIR COLOR / EYE COLOR - brown / brown HEIGHT / BUILD - 5′3″ / slight, athletic TATTOOS / PIERCINGS - nostril piercing, small tattoo on anterior right forearm. DISTINGUISHABLE FEATURES - a scar above her left ear that goes into her hairline approximately three inches, bold, full brows. freckles. usually has bruised knees.

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

MEDICAL HISTORY - laceration to left temporoparietal area, sprained ankle, fractured collar bone, well-controlled asthma. KNOWN ALLERGIES - penicillin, watermelon VISUAL IMPAIRMENT / HEARING IMPAIRMENT - nearsighted, but usually uses contacts; tinnitus. NICOTINE USE / DRUG USE / ALCOHOL USE - occasional alcohol use, former smoker ( has had an errant cigarette on occasion ), drug use as a teenager.

PERSONALITY.

TRAITS - compassionate, resilient, tenacious ; self-righteous, cynical, aloof TROPES - nerves of steel, canine companion, good is not soft, deadpan snarker. TEMPERAMENT - melancholic ALIGNMENT - chaotic good CELTIC TREE ZODIAC - rowan, the thinker MBTI - infj HOGWARTS HOUSE - ravenclaw VICE / VIRTUE - pride ; liberality LIKES / DISLIKES: animals, reading, running and weight lifting, not having to share her popcorn, take-out, breakfast for dinner, leather / denim jackets, white sneakers, fresh cut flowers, solitude, people who think about others,  /  medical dramas, arrogance, science deniers, bok choy, people who talk to her at the gym or when she has headphones on, movie remakes, passive aggression. QUOTE:  ❝take a body, dump it, drive. take a body, maybe your own, and dump it gently. all your dead, unfinished selves and dump them gently. take only what you need. ❞

FAVORITES.

FOOD - curry. DRINK - coffee. PIZZA TOPPING - pineapple ( yes, she’s that bitch ), but with olives, mushrooms, tomatoes, and tabasco. COLOR - earth tones, grey, black and white. MUSIC - synth, hip hop, indie. BOOKS - horror, true crime, historical philosophy of science and medicine. MOVIES - the thing, nightbreed, notorious CURSE WORD - fuck, goddamn it. SCENTS - lavender, vanilla, chocolate.

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger/content warnings: murder, death, graphic violence, mental health, postpartum depression, suicide, cancer, drug mention, parent death, medical, euthanasia mention, stalking, guns

THE FOG CREEPS IN ; GIRLHOOD IS A GRAVEYARD

genevieve channing is born on a cold, grey february sometime around midnight to douglas and paula channing while the heavy oregon fog kisses the modest concrete jungle of portland oregon like a phantom. paula gives her a big name, telling the nurses with heady confidence that she’ll be famous one day, and it’s the biggest gift she ever gives her. baby genevieve is in her arms so often, she hardly touches a cradle, but it’s not long until douglas feels an uneasiness creeping in.

paula is bohemian silk skirts and crushed velvet. she grows restless being trapped in the plain, modest home in northeast. she is a woman that is easy to fall in love with—not meant to sit at home idly with a collicy baby, where she finds herself in tears more than ever. douglas returns from work to find baby genevieve screaming unattended in her crib while paula cries in the backyard with an ashtray full of cigarettes. she tells him she’s worried she’ll crash the car one day on the way to the grocery store with them both inside. douglas digs his teeth into his bottom lip and tries not to cry. he squeezes her hand and tells her she needs to go to therapy. what he really wants to tell her is that their baby needs her. he leaves paula outside and spends the afternoon tidying the house with genevieve swaddled against his chest. it’s a warm feeling.

it’s not long after that paula starts disappearing for periods of time and douglas learns she can’t be trusted to watch after the baby on her own. when she calls from downtown in tears, hyperverbal and desperate, he picks her up in his old chevy truck and brings her home. she agrees to see a doctor and for awhile, they figure out how to live again. some days are even as sweet as the rhubarb pies she starts to make again.

there are only two ways neve later remembers her mother, and the first is lovely–paula is picnics and shakespeare in the parks. she’s dried roses in the window and salmon tacos with mango salsa. she is whirlwind adventures and laughter. she teaches neve to make wishes on stray eyelashes, blowing them into the wind like dandelion seeds. on the good days, paula’s eyes are filled with stars. on the bad days, they are left black as the night sky while she cries the constellations down her cheeks. occasionally, she is cruel. mostly, she is absent.

by the third grade, neve expects this. douglas has never been much of a cook–save hamburger patties with canned green beans and a baked potato. she cooks their dinners from recipes she learns from her grandmas and helps around the house. most nights she’s home alone until the grumbling sound of the chevy breaks through the dark and signals her father’s return. eventually, she stops missing her mother from the everyday–it’s only when the other kids talk about their moms that she feels the pang of loss and wonders where she is. some nights neve finds herself sitting in her bedroom window pulling out eyelashes just to have something left to wish on. some of paula’s friends overdose on heroin or get murdered in the nights when neve is sleeping; she stays up late and hopes that her vigil will keep a distant mother safe.

there aren’t many trees on their street–unlike some of the other neighborhoods. the big weeping birch in their backyard that drives her father crazy as he rakes leaves every fall is neve’s pride and joy. there is comfort in the shade its branches cast every summer. at night it makes her lonely as it blocks the silhouette of the waxing moon. on lazy summer days when her father leaves for work, neve sits with her back curved against its rough trunk and reads the day away.

on a cool april afternoon, just after preparing a plate of cherry poptarts with a thin layer of butter on top of the frosting ( much to her father’s chagrin ), neve ventures out to the modest yard to sit under her tree. the familiar crushed blue velvet of her mother’s favorite dress catches her off guard and she drops her breakfast onto the unkempt lawn as her mind makes sense of the unnatural height of its hem as paula swings–marking the time of neve’s pounding heartbeat. the butter solidifies as it cools in the dirt, the heel of neve’s hand-me-down airwalk sneakers mashing her breakfast. the cherry filling sticks to the sole like bubblegum; she’ll never eat them again, but she can’t help but recall that her mom always preferred the maple and brown sugar.

THE ODDS ARE STACKED AGAINST HER ; A GIRL LEARNS TO COUNT CARDS

portland in the eighties and nineties is less portlandia and more drugstore cowboy. a lot of kids from other neighborhoods don’t go downtown. the ones that do have an air of palpable grit. neve takes the max, rides her skateboard in the dark. douglas has cautioned her a hundred thousand times, but paula’s death has instilled such a great fear of losing his daughter that he lets her get away with more than he knows he probably should. he fears paula’s ghost will someday possess her and she’ll wander off into the ether. most days he insists that the only parts of paula he sees in his cherished daughter are the good ones–neve holds onto the corporeal world with claws. it’s only on the worst nights–paula’s specter cooling the sheets of his bed in the dark–that he wakes up with the fear his daughter is gone.

douglas’s new wife, rosie, does her best to pit them against one another, but sometimes–she’s not so bad, neve thinks. it’s nice to have a mother figure in the house again even if she falls short most days. sometimes she thinks that maybe they could learn to love each other. if nothing else, she’s sure she owes a bit of gratitude to the woman; the nights of her father’s haunting sobs have become fewer and farther between. it isn’t until douglas begins receiving late notices on utilities that he begins to grow suspicious. rosie is quick to throw neve under the bus–a young girl like that? she’s probably stealing their money to spend on drugs and CDs at sam goody. douglas has never bet on anyone like he bets on his daughter; rosie’s gambling debts are news to them both.

the fallout of the relationship leaves douglas and neve in dire financial straits. the father is heartbroken–another love lost, he blames himself for always choosing the wrong lady luck. despite their financial ruin, left in rosie’s wake, douglas has a hard time getting out of bed most days and blows through what little sick time he has available to him. school takes a back burner and neve barely attends it at all–favoring her time on finding work ( legitimate and illegitimate ) to help keep their small family afloat. she attends class when it’s profitable and waits tables or washes dishes when she can. it’s still not enough.

a few kids turn neve onto small crimes to turn a profit. they ride the max to the suburbs and crash parties–stealing pills out of medicine cabinets and turning them over for profit. calculus wasn’t worth a good goddamn, but distribution teaches skills. it’s hard not to get caught up in petty thefts and the occasional break-ins. neve and her friends find it easy to justify in the spirit of class war. a pin on her denim jacket reads ‘eat the rich’ and it doesn’t sound so bad. portland is a cannibal and it eats its children.

neve is a cat with nine lives and despite her friends being caught by the long arm of the law or the stronger arm of revenge, she evades detection. even such cats live with a fear of death, and as consequence catches up to members of the small circle she runs with, neve knows she is living on borrowed time. sooner or later, she knows, her luck will run bone dry.

SPRING RETURNS TO PORTLAND ; THE FROST CLINGS TO FRAGILE BONES

neve dropping out of high school is a wake up call for douglas. he sees farther than she does and knows that she deserves a better life than the one he’s scrounged together for her. most days, he blames himself for a life that could have been; some kids like her wore neatly pressed dresses and folded over lace socks on picture day. some kids had piano lessons and summer camps. there’s a lot of insight in hindsight, but neve staunchly opposes his masochistic remorse and becomes determined to prove him wrong. it takes her a couple years of working to figure out what she wants to do–a girl baptised in her mother’s blood is born with the kind of heart that takes on too much. she is meant for saving lives and carrying the world on her shoulders like atlas himself.

it takes time, but as douglas gets their house in order and starts working again. neve is able to start up at portland community college. she takes up a work study job and works a steady flow of odd jobs on the side to support herself. lady luck shines her fortune on the pair for the first time in forever to make up for the steady losses they’ve sustained over the years. life isn’t lavender and gardenias, but somehow waking up becomes little and less painful each day. some days neve wakes up and forgets that she can’t breathe. most days she spends her gratitude in the heap of debt the world owes her–waiting for the other shoe to drop.

the rebirth of their family is a hearty soil; both channings flourish as if made anew. the dew drops that cling to garden spider webs in their window signal the looming anniversary of a mother’s misty breath and neve learns not to fall apart. douglas works hard to do right by her and make up for the years of never knowing what to do and waffling between what is best and what is desirable. he is a man that longs for dreams–feet barely brushing the earth like her mother’s did on that day–but he is learning to make dreams work too. his dreams take root around his daughter once more; he builds them around her and builds her up with them.

the highschool dropout graduates her community college adn bridge program and she can hardly believe it when she’s accepted to ohsu for her bsn. there are no college diplomas with the channing name hanging on walls with peeling wallpaper or tucked away in trunks with paula’s things. douglas has saved his money for months to get her the right graduation gift and neve laughs, downplaying that it’s not a real graduation, but still walks in the ceremony at his insistence.

she returns home to the small party of friends she’ll start to grow apart from when she gets tired of the jeers about how she thinks she’s ‘too good for them’ now. neighborhoods like hers don’t always love to watch you grow if it means you’ll leave them. they’ll still blow up her phone for medical advice, but the invitations dry up like the drought of portland natives in southeast. for now, it’s a pleasant barbecue. the highlight of the evening comes in the small bundle of inky fur that douglas proudly produces after neve’s second burger. peering out from his strong arms are the brown eyes of a young siberian husky. douglas begs her to name the pup murphy over robocop, but loses easily–a hearty chuckle on his lips. they are bonded instantly–girl and dog–robocop becomes neve’s second most stalwart companion next to her father.

nursing school is hard, but it’s not impossible and it is full of new kinds of joys. she makes new friends and they eat lunch from the thai foodcart—nestled within the pod of south waterfront—and lay on the quad drinking smoothies and complaining about the next pharmacology exam. nose in a book and a drink in her hand at happy hour down at cha cha cha !, neve attracts the attention of pa student shane stone. he knows a nursing school classmate of hers from high school and is quickly incorporated to their study groups with a couple of his friends. he is tall with dark hair and kind eyes and just the sort of person a girl dreams of falling in love with. he spends little time worrying about things like rent and bus passes. it’s not even the end of the semester before study dates evolve into movie dates. there’s an entire world between them, but somehow the pair build a bridge.

DEATH RATTLES AND DYING BREATH ; THE GIRL’S OTHER SHOE DROPS

as neve focuses on school, douglas seems to be making steps to keep himself around longer. they go for long walks with robocop around the neighborhood. southeast portland is becoming a different neighborhood and the cost of living is high. restaurants crop up with around the block waits and family friends are forced to move to grayer pastures. it seems, to the channings, that it’s the end of an era. with neve spending most of her time at shane’s apartment on south waterfront, douglas’ weight loss is hardly noticed–everyone assumes it is merely the byproduct of increased activity. it isn’t until his stature becomes gaunt that neve starts to worry.

shane holds neve close when she finally breaks down–sneaking into the single bathroom of the clinic to let her fall apart the way he knows she can’t do in the open. like a wild animal, the girl he loves hides herself away when she feels death’s acrid breath on her neck. he doesn’t know what loss is and he certainly can’t relate to what she’s been through. douglas’ diagnosis is like watching the noose tighten around her mother’s neck all over again. her throat is dry like she’s choking on the fibers of that same rope; the world has a foggy edge—hollow like street lights illuminating an empty suburban neighborhood on a clear, dark night. everything is wooden; everything feels like a dollhouse.

it’s hard to keep up on her studies, but somehow neve muscles through. shane gives up his idyllic apartment and moves into their modest southeast home to help out. he makes a lighthearted joke about finally being a real portlander and moving so near the trendy, revitalized mississippi neighborhood and neve drops and breaks her coffee mug on the unfinished wood floor of the kitchen. it’s just another reminder that he doesn’t belong in her world any more than she does in his. it doesn’t sting as bad as the ink on his mother’s checks that she cashes to keep her father comfortable on his deathbed while she learns to be a better caretaker. life ebbs and flows, but douglas’ drains away until she hardly recognizes the sinewy, pale hands that hold hers so strongly for a man that can’t sit up by himself any longer. she curses her mother once more for leaving and twice for never having been there in the first place.

death isn’t slow or peaceful like the woman from her father’s church will lie about at the funeral. his death rattle lasts for hours and the bellows of his chest quake with weary breath. part of her wishes that the hospice nurse had started an iv on him and a sick, hidden part of her wishes it because a sweet dose of morphine would’ve ended it all sooner for him. she wonders silently if that would do more to ease his pain or hers? he hasn’t been conscious in two days. shane sits with her at the side of his bed with rapt attention and as his breathing slows, neve crawls into the hospice bed next to him. the next several months are a blur and a father misses his only daughter’s graduation. neve is barely present there herself.

shane insists that she’s not an orphan–his parents fly in from denver and treat her like one of their own. it guilts her that she can’t help but resent them for the simple virtue of living while her own father is reduced to a cold dust. she wears his ashes around her neck in a pendant from the funeral home and spreads the rest in every beautiful place she can find. some of them spill into her purse during a hike with robo and shane and she breaks down in tears. there are so many small things that make her sick or numb. a multitude of tiny memories that weigh as much as planets; isn’t dust what helped create the milky way? even around the stone family she feels alone. maybe especially around the stones.

HACKLES RAISED, A GIRL LEARNS THE DANGERS OF BEING FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

the emergency department attracts all kinds of people in myriad dire straits. people come in at the end of their ropes–infections ignored too long, stabbings and shootings, a broken bone from slipping off the slide, and sometimes when they feel like they can’t live any longer. evan does not fit into any of these categories when he comes in. among the myriad failings of the medical system, lack of access and use of primary care is one of the larger contributions to higher emergency department volumes and evan is another data point in a sea of statistics. he comes back to neve’s room with a sly grin plastered on his face and states that he’s new to the area and can’t get into a new primary care for a few months. his daily asthma inhaler is out and he needs to renew the prescription and get a referral to a clinic.

there’s nothing on the surface that identifies this man as a threat. he’s almost charming and he’s nontoxic appearing–a nice easy patient in a sea of sick people is sometimes a great relief. they make some small talk and it’s the usual stuff she chats about with patients: ‘where’re you from?’ ‘where did you go to school?’ he expresses an interest in nursing and she recommends the program she attended at the hospital she now works. there’s almost a tension there, and when he makes a casual comment about the tan line on her finger she tells him that she doesn’t wear her engagement ring at work because it can tear the gloves. that’s only half right. maybe he can sense the rest of the truth; she’ll wonder that later when she pieces together every scrap of something she can use to blame it on herself.

he sends her a message on facebook, which makes her lips curl downwards in uncertainty. even that isn’t entirely alarming. it opens up reminding her that he’s knew to the area, and that he’s interested in the nursing program she went to. it’s a surprise, but he makes mention of a girlfriend’s wifi and he even asks how shane is doing. he loves her dog and mentions wanting one himself. sure, it’s a little weird–unconventional–but neve has always been interested in helping others find nursing and agrees to meet him for coffee to discuss the program. when they meet, she sees the mistake inherit in it before she even opens the cafe door. he’s disheveled and hyperverbal when he speaks to her and she can barely get a word in edge wise. between the gift he’s brought her and the intensity of his stare, she wonders how she could have read him so wrong. it’s then that he drops the bomb that makes her stomach sink into the trench it detonates in–will they take him in the nursing program with a record? she doesn’t ask, but he provides the details anyway. death threats to some girl he barely knew that wouldn’t leave him alone, he paints the canvas well, but she can read between the lines. evan stevens is dangerous and his lethal eye is trained on her.

she makes an excuse to leave–the first of many excuses, the illusion of being unavailable, unattainable. it’s the advice she’s given to women before, but never had to follow. those words offered to women in distress seem so trite now, so hollow. there is so much fear in cutting ties slowly–the strategic approach to keep an impulsive person like that from escalating. she wishes she could take those clinical offerings of textbook wisdom back from those women and hold their hands. she wonders how many of them still live. he starts blowing up her phone constantly. he comments on all her social media. all day and all night. if she doesn’t respond, he threatens suicide. some days he asks if she’s working and says he brought her lunch. if she says she’s sick, he asks for her address to bring her tom yum takeout from the restaurant she’s posted about on instagram. everything makes her sick now.

A FINAL GIRL IS FORGED ALONE ; THERE IS NO SUBVERTING FATE

god, it’s hard to speak about. she can’t even let the words reach her tongue, lips and teeth to birth them. they shrivel and die in her throat, festering there until she swallows them and they rest in her stomach like great stones. she wonders if evan will cut her stomach open like a wolf and find the rocks there. that’s not how the story goes; she tells herself so many versions as she lies awake in the dark afraid to sleep.

when she finally tells her friends–a smattering of girls and guys from nursing school, the er, and her neighborhood–the response is like the knife she dreams about in her gut. she shows some of the girls at her work his picture, worried that he’ll come in asking about her. she’s chided by these friends, “he’s actually pretty cute, florence nightingale” they joke. “it must be flattering to have the attention.” even shane suspected that there’s some indulgence on her part. that maybe she likes trying to fix people who are broken so much that she gets some sick reward from the experience. he doesn’t speak the words, but neve is fluent in shane stone. he says it in his eyes, the downcurve of his lips, the tense way he sighs when her phone dings over and over again during date nights.

on a cold night in december, neve works on meal prepping alone in the kitchen. evan has been out of town helping his mother remodel her kitchen and neve feels like she can finally breathe in the space he’s left behind. turning on the wireless speaker, she tries to pair her phone to play music as loud as the thin walls of her father’s modest northeast portland home will allow and instead hears, in the cold, robotic voice ‘pairing with neve’s iphone and evan’s iphone.’ robocop doesn’t even lift his head in suspicion the whole night. she calls 911, but they find neither hide nor hair of him. in the morning, neve nails the windows shut and buys a gun–a smith & wesson .357 snub nose revolver. the weight of it is heavy in her hands and she buys a membership to a gun range, calling into work and practicing until shane returns. she doesn’t tell him about the gun and she stops telling him how bad things have gotten with evan. the click of his tongue and disapproval in his eyes is more dooming than a death sentence and she can’t bear to bring further disappointment. neve channing is a strong woman–a smart woman. things like this don’t happen to women like her.

somehow, evan is everywhere and he knows all her secret places as if he exists as an extension of her. maybe he even believes he is–sending her voice messages about how they’re connected. they are the same; they are foils of one another. he send her a picture of his ouroboros tattoo from a new number after she finally blocks him. ‘we are the same.’ he is an all-consuming, devouring force, but she is not a serpent’s tail. he is moloch–besmeared with blood, the great, horrid king–but she is not a child and she will not be sacrificed for sins she has not committed. he has not right and there’s only one way she can see this ending as the days grow longer. like life itself begins, this too will end in blood.

LOVE IS A HARD KNIFE ; A GIRL CAN’T STOMACH AMBROSIA

there is a consequence to every action and every inaction. every little thing she chooses not to tell shane fester and boils. the late nights at work and the new passcode on her phone seem more to shane like cheating than a worsening of some creep’s obsession. she hasn’t even mentioned evan to him since the trees started blooming again. when he elects to cheer her up and bring her lunch during a shift she traded so she could practice at the gun range, his suspicions deepen and while she sleeps that morning, he rifles through her work bag and finds alongside her locked cell phone the cold steel of a secret that he cannot abide by.

it’s not his fault either and she means that from the bottom of her heart. every kindness from the stones feels like another debt and neve can’t help but let the resentment fester in the tasteful diamond on her finger. when she looks upon his face now all she can see is death and it’s the world’s cruelest joke, because she’s the one with cemetery dirt underneath her fingernails. she can’t tell which of the two of them she resents more and they both deserve lives where ghosts stay buried and the dead don’t whisper malcontent in her ears while she struggles to fall asleep. nightmares are her own warm milk; she’s sick of the cold metal of a gun as she moves it from her night stand to her purse each morning. she’s tired of being made to feel like she had a stake in any of this.

it’s not the kindest way to leave a man, but she’s not sure she’s ready to face him again after all that’s happened. she leaves her house keys with her cousin paloma and packs up shane’s stuff. paloma has just started nursing school and can use neve’s father’s old house to sublet. the rent’s free and she’s always been gentle hearted. neve can’t think of anyone better to care for her father’s old house. with dear john letters to both shane and the hospital, neve takes robocop and enough of her things to fit into her subaru forester. it’s not goodbye. it’s never goodbye, she thinks as she hugs paloma on the modest porch. it still feels so permanent, but neve tells herself that big decisions always do. she yearns to discover who she is outside of grief and fear and love. a daughter cannot bloom in her parents’ shadows and she is suffocating underneath the gentle love of the mourning glory.

on the road without a real plan–because if she doesn’t know where she’s going, then neither does evan–neve signs on for a travel nursing company. the first assignment she considers is salem hospital an hour south and it’s a great department, but it’s too close to home. he’ll find her there easily. st. charles in bend isn’t far enough away either. it doesn’t feel like enough of a difference and none of them do until she’s cruising down the interstate through blythe, california and she sees a listing for a level one trauma center in tuscon, arizona. it feels like it could be the right place to burn and be born again.

A GIRL AND HER DOG; SOMETIMES PEACE IS ITS OWN KIND OF PRISON

the cool steel of the snub nose .357 revolver lies buried beneath her registration and owner’s manual in the glove compartment. she wonders briefly as she pulls out her sunglasses and slips a salty french fry into her mouth. the car stereo fades in and out along the southbound highway, switching between some smooth-talking radio host and the tinny crooning of buddy holly. it makes her think of her father, and she blinks back tears–plugging in her iphone to switch to a tune that doesn’t bring back such painful memories. robocop whines in the backseat and neve discovers that her maps aren’t loading any longer, the gps unable to locate their vehicle.

there’s no sense in pulling over and pulling out the map of arizona she purchased from a disinterested teen in the first gas station she’d come across in the state. there’s only two days before the job starts and, according to her recruiter, they’d already moved the orientation up a day, cutting her time to adjust to her new ( temporary ) place before work in half. taking a long drink of coffee–now as cold as her french fries–she blinks hard to keep awake and just when she thinks she’ll have to pull over and sleep in her car huddled close to robocop’s warm, furry body.

neve passes a hospital on the outskirts of town–lit up all pretty against the dark desert sky. it looks nice enough and the longer she drives, the more she considers that her recruiter might’ve told her they were full up in tuscon. maybe that was why they moved the date up for orientation afterall. in the dark august night, most of the businesses are closed and the lights in the mobile home park neve passes are off. the first place she sees open is bj’s food mart and she stops to get a fresh cup of coffee and stretch her legs. she learns inside that amen county is always hiring and leaves with a smile on her lips.

neve has spent nine peaceful months in boot hill. the gun no longer lives shoved into the bottom of her work bag or nestled into the glove compartment of her subaru. now it spends its days in solitude in the coffin-like drawer of her bedside table. evan will never find this place, she is almost sure of it. he might be looking for her, but he’s not looking for boot hill. some evenings on her long strolls to work, she smiles and closes her eyes–listening to the soothing sounds of the town.

soon enough, neve is sure there really was no travel assignment to reach. or, if there had been, she can’t remember where it’s at. instead, she takes some time to enjoy the small town and the anonymity she feels there. she’s not even living out of the silk bonnet hotel anymore. she hadn’t seen boot hill on any map during her road trip and, if that’s universal, her past can’t find her without a destination to set its sights on. there is more than great comfort in that. by the end of her first month, she can’t imagine living anywhere else.

the emergency department is not the bustling trauma center she was used to, but there is an appeal to the autonomy rural medicine offers an experienced nurse. hell, in some places the doctors only come in if you call them. neve can’t exactly remember the application and interview process anymore. it seems like there are so many things that have become mysteries and she can’t find herself caring enough to investigate them long enough to follow an actual lead. it seems like she’s always worked there–an instantaneous sensation of home. she couldn’t even leave if she wanted to.

[elfenbensord]

moonlight // remus lupin

22-31.1-5.2.19

request: hey!! could you please do a remus x reader where the reader is a quidditch player, gets injured because of it, and they bond over constantly being stuck in the hospital wing? i love your writing btw <3 - anon

note: thank you for 250 followers!

and ye yee i write so slowly!! hope y’all like this one <3

masterlist / make a request!

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the night shuddered, the descending moon getting ready to make its exit. remus lupin rested still in white sheets stained with disinfection. though the pillow beneath his head was softer, he still missed his own bed up in the gryffindor dormitories. he could feel the skele-gro mending his broken bones, scraping his insides raw. he hadn’t seen himself yet, but he was convinced there would be new scars to greet him in the morning. deep, red, they’d glow for a week or more. his life broke him into pieces as he hugged his knees tight to his chest and let out a sob. his tears echoed loud, he was alone in blue striped pyjamas.

“are you alright?” a newly woken voice asked.

remus’ breath got caught between his teeth. he didn’t know who she was, but she must’ve been carried in some time during the day whilst he was still passed out. he quickly dried his tears, a shudder of embarrassment raking his body. “i’m fine, yeah. i’m sorry if i woke you up.”

he got no answer from her, she was already asleep again. he made a mental note to weep quietly in the future.

crying in the moonlight.

---

she wasn’t there when he woke up. it was late in the afternoon when his bones stopped aching so terribly. he found himself wondering who she was, and if he’d ever get to meet her again. her voice sounded around his age, and perhaps he recognised it. her voice was an imprint on his heart.

he begged madame pomfrey to be released that morning. he couldn’t stand to be confined to the marble walls of the hospital wing for any longer. he was desperate to breathe again. with a growing smile, she said yes. with freshly healed scars, he left in striped blue pyjamas. he searched for her, her voice, but could not find her anywhere.

the moon visited him once again in a month’s time. it shone upon his head, his dirty hair reflecting in the light. it clawed his insides raw, it opened up his lungs and let him breathe cold night air for the first time in weeks.

he slept through the night of unfamiliar sheets and unironed pyjamases, and he for just a second dreamt of her. she was a voice without a face, she was kindness without profit. her “are you alright?” became the most beautiful thing he’d heard in ages.

when he woke up in the hospital wing, he searched eagerly for anyone who might match the voice. his feelings became two sided when he was alone in the large room. he was glad she wasn’t hurt - he never wished hurt upon anyone. but a small grain of selfishness harboured in him - he wondered if he’d ever hear her again. perhaps see her, as well.

he walked the halls with spiked ears, always listening for her. but after a while, he couldn’t quite remember the sound of her voice. was it sweet or husky? did she express herself in long sentence or merely answer with short words?

he realised that his only chance of meeting her again was in the hospital wing. the population of hogwarts was far too large to be narrowed down in search of a voice without a name. he didn’t dare speak about it to sirius or james, as he knew they’d only tease him. some days he considered telling peter - but he always decided against it. telling anyone seemed, to remus, like giving away some sort of secret. he knew he had no sensible reasoning behind these feelings, but he didn’t have the courage to trust him fully yet. he didn’t fully trust himself, either. he stayed quiet, in hope that her voice would fill the silence.

it happened on a sunday afternoon. remus had finally given up on trying to find her, and paid no mind to those who walked in or out the hospital wing. the book in his hands was reaching its long anticipated climax, and he found himself lost to the world from moment to moment. another patient was entered, she was followed by an entire team of chattering teens. judging by the dirt marks they left on the floor, an entire quidditch team.

remus did what he could to disappear for only just a moment. he glanced at the newly-arrived girl in the bed beside him, and decided he didn’t, nor wanted to, know her. so he could simply return to his book.

the wind outside howled, winter was coming fast.

“is it any good?”

the book fell out of his hands.

that voice.

after months of searching, there she was. right beside him, peering up at him from the bed beside him.

he cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t sound to soft or too grovely. “yeah, it’s… it’s alright.”

“cool.” she smiled.

the silence was unasked for. he suddenly didn’t know what to say. he’d thought about this meeting for weeks, and when it finally happened he couldn’t form coherent sentences.

“what’s it about?” she finally filled his silence.

“umm- it’s about some boys who get stuck on an island.”

“what kind of island?” she was grasping onto straws of conversation topics, he noticed. what could that mean?

“well, not a very nice one”, he laughed shortly. “it’s also kind of about humans’ animalistic instincts and natural selection, i guess.”

“sounds lovely.” she smiled. her face soon twisted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowing in pain.

“are you alright?” he spoke her words from months ago. were they his now?

“yeah, yeah. just having a rib bone grow back… ”

“skele-gro?”

she nodded, clasping her arms around her middle. “yeah.”

“i recommend you sleep through it.”

she groaned, feeling how her insides were changed. “sounds good.”

“see you in the morning”, she turned her back on him and curled up in her own set of unfamiliar white sheets.

“see you.”

remus stayed up for a while that night, thinking. wondering. watching the moonlight.

---

james came to see him after quidditch practice, madame pomfrey frowned when she saw the dirt marks his mud-covered boots left on the floor. when he saw the girl in the bed beside him, he exclaimed, loudly as he ever was, “(y/l/n)!”

she gave him a similar tone, “potter!”

remus watched this encounter with a wandering mind.

“james, i see quidditch practice went rough.” he addressed his friend.

“yeah, are you training extra hard to stand a chance against ravenclaw?” she added, a smirk playing on her lips.

james smiled and huffed, “you’re no hard match for us.”

“we’ll see about that in the match next week.”

“sure, we will.”

their exchange was filled with playfulness, tinted with a slightly competitive tone. it could’ve easily mistaken for pure resent, but to remus it was something else. the pieces finally clicked together - she was (y/n) (y/l/n), the ravenclaw seeker. he could recall james mentioning her every now and again, when in one of his fierce discussions about quidditch.

remus joined in in their conversation, silently overjoyed over finding out who she was.

---

(y/n) was released from the hospital that same evening. she came to visit him the next morning. by then, she’d cut her hair in a new style. remus could barely hide the smile tugging at his lips every time she spoke. she seemed so relaxed, so at home in every situation. all he could feel was the close chaos inside of him. and he wondered if she felt the same, but was better at hiding it in kind words. a part of him hoped so.

“i like your… your new hairstyle. it looks good on you.” i’m pretty sure anything looks good on you.

(y/n)’s hand touched her new style. “really? thanks. i… it was on a bit of a impulse that i cut it.”

“well, you look lovely.”

she flushed red, but didn’t want to let go of his eyes. she leaned her chin in her hand. “hmm. yours is getting awfully long.” she let her fingers trail through his brown hair.

“yeah, i guess.”

“i could...”, she started. “i could cut it for you. only if you’d like, i mean-”

“yeah. i’d like that.” he interrupted her with kindness.

“okay.” she smiled at him. then she realised the time. “i have to go, divination starts soon.” she gently patted his hand. “bye.”

and she vanished for the day.

sirius appeared before him shortly after. by the look of him, he’d overslept and then not bothered to find himself where he was supposed to be. he brought his friend chocolate, newly acquired from hogsmeade. they shared the bar, piece by piece.

“hey, did you see someone?”

“hmm?” remus dreamed.

“what’s her name?”

“how d’you know it’s a girl?”

sirius’ grovely face turned into a soft expression for just a second. a grin spread across his lips. “the smile on your face told me.”

redness grew on remus’ cheeks. “her name’s (y/n). we met here.”

“here, in the hospital wing?” another large grin. “how romantic.”

remus ate his chocolate. “very.”

“well, remus”, sirius heaved his tall body into standing position. “i wish you all luck with your romantic endeavours. but i must partake, as i mustn’t miss transfiguration, or minnie will execute me.”

“go forth”, remus smiled, finding joy in such good friends.

---

the hospital wing lay quiet, darkness finding its way to every corner. the only thing to light up his presence was a small sliver of moonlight, the last rays finding its way through the glazed windows.

his thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone, they feasted upon him this lonely night. suddenly the moonlight seemed to shine a little brighter, as a figure entered the oblong room. his thoughts were disturbed by the image of a girl in nightwear. in her hand she carried a bag. hair was ruffled by sleep - or perhaps lack thereof.

“(y/n)?”

“good night.” she greeted him in unusual words.

“what are you doing here?” remus whispered, afraid to wake his nonexistent fellow patients.

“i came to see you, of course.” she approached his bed, then became unable to decide whether or not to sit down. “and”, she reached into her bag to reveal a shiny scissor, “tonight’s a perfect night for new beginnings.”

she grinned and he smiled back. in the last moonlight, she looked smaller. his heart wasn’t as intimidated by the thought of her. yet, excitement rushed through his veins.

“now?” he whispered into the night.

she nodded eagerly, “or never.”

her legs settled on his bed, she leaned forward to look him in the eyes. “no one knows when this sort of moon’ll appear again.”

remus knew. he smiled to answer, but he knew he could count the days until the moon would be in this exact position next time, and the next. but he smiled at her anyway.

the first snip he held his breath for. the first cut of lock fell down on his bedsheets, the brown contrasting the white.

“okay?” she asked him.

“wonderful.”

she worked her way through his curly bed hair for the next hour. his head felt lighter, not just because of the lack of hair, but because of her as well. her quiet chatter filled his mind instead of his mind’s cruel thoughts.

after making double and triple checks, she was finally satisfied with her work. she conjured up a mirror with her wand, and carefully leaned against remus’ shoulder to hand it to him. “look at this masterpiece!”

remus didn’t know whether or not to blush at her words. he did anyways, he always did. bold roses born to die on his freckled cheeks in only seconds. his heart thundered at how close she was. “looks good.”

she hadn’t moved away from him. lightly hugging him from behind, she leaned against him. her warm breath against his ear, he couldn’t stop himself from blushing.

 “are you alright?” she asked him, her voice filled with heartfelt concern. the moonlight played in her brights eyes as she moved away from him to meet his eyes. he found himself missing her touch. “you keep disappearing.” her lips turned into a small, kind smile. “you don’t have to answer, i’m just… i’m just worried about you.”

remus’ heart came suddenly alive upon hearing her words. he never would’ve imagined she’d ever seen him enough to notice his absence.

he smiled, and reached for her hand. it felt soft, wrapped in his cold fingers. “you don’t need to worry. i’m okay, i always will be.”

her worried eyes were only slightly calmed. she squeezed his hand lightly. “okay.”

she didn’t fully believe him, but she knew not to pry. instead she turned her attention to the moon. hand pulled his arm over her, once again she leaned into him. he knew she must feel his thundering heart, but he wasn’t too alarmed at the thought. they lay like that with the moon shining down upon them.

in love in the moonlight.

---

remus lupin: @writingwitchly / @serenefreakgeek / @spideyfan456 / @un-nouveau-soleil / @evyiione / @reggieblck / @bookworm0123

permanent: @rocking-like-a-ravenclaw / @kapolisradomthoughts / @siriusement / @classy-sith-lady / @hermione-who / @pompeiianbollocker / @theseuscmander

wanna be added to the taglist family? ask or message me ‘bout it!

[writtenfan]

Exceptional Emotions

Severus x Reader Imagine 

Request: Hello! Can I request a imagine where the reader is a student at Hogwarts? She is a muggle-born and in the Gryffindor house. How about a scenario of Snape getting upset that the reader’s dad isn’t treating her with respect and he asks Dumbledore for help. In the end, the reader opens up to him about her parents getting divorced and her dad being mentally ill with bipolar.

(Wow, this took a bit, but I hope you enjoy it!)

The door closed with a soft clank; he wiped the bridge of his nose and tossed his hair back as he ran his fingers through his long fine strands of black. His throat ached with a strained voice and his temple pulsed.

He was looking forward to the dreamless sleep, that would allow him to no longer worry about the world.

He fumbled with the parchments under his arm as he walked down the dark candlelit hallway. The castle was always so eerie and calm at night, portraits snored, or gossiped quietly to each other about their day, the wind howled softly against the outer walls. He paused and looked out of an open window watching the moonlight glittering in against the stone floor tiles.

Severus grasped the sill of the window and took a deep breath of cool crisp air as he admired the sights outside, looking out into the horizon past the trees.

Although this moment was cut short as his eyes shuttered closed when a bright light shined across his face.

He tilted his head towards the ground and watched the figure of a student disappear across the stone columns, sneakily into the dark corner of the courtyard below. He pushed himself away from the window and sped downstairs to the courtyard quietly, a grimace planted on his face, hand gripping his wand firmly.

Holding the side of the column he peered into the courtyard, staying in the darkness. He watched the student pull their cowl away from their head. His pulse rose once he identified the trespasser was you, He was almost ready to step from behind the column to scold you when he watched her pull out a medium-sized mirror. It's frame thin and golden.

“You should speak to me more often…” grumbled a voice from within the glass.

“I try, but it isn’t always that easy…I have a lot to deal with here…”

“And you think I don’t?!”

There was a long, gloomy pause. His eyes narrowed as he slowly moved behind another pillar so that he could get a closer look at what you were was looking at. His footsteps hardly made as a sound as he sauntered barely behind your shoulder, the only thing separating you from him was a stone railing.

“No- that’s not the case dad...I-“

“You think you're better than us, don’t you?”

“No. That absolutely isn- “

“-But you have time to call your mother eh? What is it huh…can't stand to talk to your father anymore?”

You took your hand and wiped it across your eyes, angling the mirror so that your father couldn’t see.

“No, dad. Mom called me first, I think none less of you both. School just takes a lot of time and-“

He heard a crash from within the mirror,

“Shut up!”

Severus pressed his hands firmly against the stone and clawed at its surface, as he struggled to keep his robe from revealing his location as the wind picked up.

“You were always so selfish you know that…” the voice grumbled

Your fingers pressed against the sides of the glass as you stared emptily into the mirror.

“You. Your mother… Always thinking you both knew everything… and didn’t even consider asking me…” the voice trailed off.

“Dad. Are you taking your medication…” you whispered as you watched the mirror in soft sadness watching your father angrily toss something out of frame.

Another loud sound rose from the mirror.

“Don’t act like you care, stop babying me…Go back to learning your magic… no. How about you come back here and help me out huh?”

“Give your old man some support, I bet you have access to loads of things in your little wizard world I could use!”.

“Yes. I’ll bring you back something…” your voice cracked in a soft reply.

You stared at the face of your father for a moment, “Goodnight dad. Take your meds.”

Your father grunted in a reply which was cut off as you tapped the screen, making the mirror reflective once more.

Severus studied the huddled figure of the girl as she leaned herself against the back the stone head raised towards the sky. Her (e/c) eyes were wet with tears, they trailed down her face and were wiped from her cheek. She let out a loud sigh into the sky as she ruffled her hair in frustration.

Eventually, she rose and walked back towards her common room in Gryffindor tower. He watched her leave, and pain filled his chest, a pain he hadn’t felt since he was a child. To think fathers could act such a way to the children and partners that love them. How dare he talk to his own spawn like that? When all he saw was the lingering amounts of love she had for him? He didn’t understand, nor wanted to… all he knew was that he had to do something. Had to say something. No one should go through what he had gone through, especially her. Not her, no one could treat her like that.

It was morning; the sun had risen 4 hours ago, and the sun was well into the sky and beaming down into the castle in smooth warm rays.

Severus tapped his finger against his wooden desk as he stared absentmindedly into his empty classroom. It was 10 minutes before class, his first class of the day. But he wasn’t in his usual mood of discontent, instead, he was eager for it to begin. All night something filled his dreams with emotions he didn’t want to be reminded of…just because of what he had experienced the night before. He woke this morning, feeling frustrated and distressed, unable to figure out what to do about it thus he unexpectantly found himself in front of the headmaster, early that morning.

“It’s very kind of you to be so concerned with a student’s troubles Severus…”

He grunted in reply and paced down the coiling bookcases on the edge of the headmaster’s office, pretending to look at what the shelves had stored on them, trailing his finger from the book, cover to cover.

“It’s nothing more than a concern for their performance in class...” he responded sternly stopping in place wiping the dusk collected by his finger against his side.

He turned back towards the headmaster who stood calmly in the middle of the room looking over him with a soft content, which for some reason angered him.

“Well,… although we can’t exactly step into (y/n)’s personal life in the way you would like Severus. We can offer her some emotional support, you…could offer her some emotional support.”

This caused his head to pound, “… Me?”

“Yes, Severus. Talk to her, ask her about what has gotten her so lost in her work…be an aid for her…offer her some solace.” He pondered the words in his head and whisked his attention to the high glass windows in Dumbledore’s office as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“You’ve dealt with similar troubles…you would be the perfect person to talk to her… “

This caused his eyebrows to furrow, he didn’t want that fact to rise in the conversation, but sure enough.

“Fine.” He growled, looking back towards Dumbledore who was now petting the feathers under the beak of his Phoenix Fawkes.

“I was hoping someone more qualified would be of more help… but if you think so headmaster, I’ll be forced to take your word.”

A small creak interrupted his thoughts. He rose his head from the floor and looked crossly at the face of a young Gryffindor student.

“Sit. No talking.”

He instructed plainly as the figure hesitantly sat in the closest seat to the door, nervously glancing back at it waiting for more students so he wouldn’t be the only one in the room with, Professor Snape. Soon enough something answered his prayers and countless Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students walked quietly into the door, sleepy-eyed, and nervous. This allowed him to snap back into reality, seeing the faces peer around the classroom, refusing to look into his eyes too long. Talking quietly to themselves, constantly shooting glances back at him and silencing themselves at once.

But he ignored this daily routine, as his eyes and mind lingered on the now open doorway to his classroom. Then, she walked in, along with a few more students, who had been unlucky enough to have missed all the seats in the back and middle of the room.

So, he watched her and the others take their seats in the front row. She, right in front of his desk. Her eyes were somber, her (h/c) hair slightly unkempt but still tamed. She refused to look at him, as she pulled out her potions book, notepad, and quill, and doodled aimlessly in the rims of her page.

It took a strong will, to make sure he didn’t study her for too long, but he pulled his gaze away and rose from his desk, flicking his hand to the doorway which slammed shut in reaction.

“Go ahead. Get out your cauldrons, you all are seventh years you know what to do. Don’t make me wait”.

Bubbling and clanking filled the room, along with the voices of your fellow peers as you all had finally woke up. You wiped steam from your forehead as your cauldron bubbled an aqua blue. Your friend beside you handed you some peeled Agave leaves, and you dropped the gooey texture into the mix and watched the bubbles stick to the sides of the cauldron.

Footsteps walked towards you from behind, your heart raced in unease as you felt the penetrating stare, yet again of your potion’s teacher. You don’t want to confront his cold attitude, so you don’t look at him. He plants himself at your side and peers into your liquid judgingly.

You, sir the liquid gradually and look up at your friend who gives you a nervous smile which you return.

Severus says nothing, although he lets out an approving grunt before walking to the table next to you considering their brew.  You breathe out, great. At least you didn’t disappoint him. You thought as you picked up a vial filled with gooey green liquid. You didn’t know if you could handle it if you had…

It would have been just too much.

“Stop.”

You froze and watched the others around you continue to leave the classroom as they looked back at you sympathetically.

“Stay.”

Your friend stood with you for a moment before getting a repulsed look from the professor.

“See you soon” they whispered before giving your arm a soft squeeze as they slipped into the hall.

“You were completely distracted during today’s lesson.” You relaxed and turn to face him, feeling somewhat annoyed.

“I wouldn’t expect such carelessness from a student like you. Ms. l/n..”

You look into his eyes and shrug your face unable to fake any concern or care in response to his words.

He studies your face, looking uncomfortably long into your eyes, making you avert your gaze many times. However, each time you did he took another step towards you attempting to reclaim your attention.

“You should also know better than to sneak around the castle at night.”

Your eyes darted open. You took a small step back and stared at the professor with obvious fear. “I- I’m sorry professor I- I had-“

He rose his hand in silence and you closed your mouth on command like a puppet. This made you additionally aggravated.

He said things, relating to how disappointed he was and how you should be more respectful when you thought about the key event of last night, the reason you walked outside.

You shot him an unsympathetic glance and his voice paused mid-sentence.

“How long were you following me” you demanded.

He looked down at you as if he was bored and without looking away responded snappily,

“Long enough to know that there is more your concerning yourself with than a simple potion.” You sat down. You merely dragged a chair from beside you and plopped down into the chair holding your head in your hand, looking Severus with wide dazed eyes. He awkwardly stood in place, neither of you knew where to carry this confrontation.

“Why-“your voice trailed softly. The room had grown stuffy and quiet.

Abruptly Severus towered over your slumped body and looked down at you hollowly,

“No parent should talk to their child that way...” he says bitterly as he stares into your eyes with an unrelenting blank gaze. “I’m sorry your muggle, a father doesn’t grasp the importance of you being here. As if he could have done such a thing himself”. The man cleared his throat and looked towards the back of the room behind you.

“Just because your father is an utter waste doesn’t mean that-“ You raise your hand frantically towards him shaking your head, “Stop. Stop. Just stop.” He halts. You let out a forced pained chuckle and run your hands through your hair securely. “He’s not usually that way he…is not well...” your voice cracks, he raises his eyebrow and stiffens his posture as he impatiently rubs his hands together.

“Stop making excuses for his poor parenting...girl. He obviously-”

“No…seriously…he- he isn’t’ always, himself…”

You interrupt weakly, now staring into the wooden surface of the tabletop. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in.

“My father has a bipolar disorder…his mood swings are extreme and terrifying…He- isn’t always, a complete dickhead…” you croak softly, forcing tears at bay while your throat tries to close in on itself.

Severus looks down at you, his fury washes away, in an instant instead replaced with sheer unease.

“He’s been getting worse…especially since he hasn’t been exactly, always taking his meds like he should…” You murmur as you raise your eyes towards Severus who looks lost in his own head.

You look back down at the worn, dented wood of the table and dig into its surface with your fingernail.

“He…isn’t. It isn’t his fault...my parents are getting a divorce, he feels all alone and I can’t be there for them, I can’t do anything to help him, I can’t… “

You feel a warm heavy press on your shoulder.

Your heart spikes in reply.

“It’s ok” he whispers softly, “Understood”.

You look into the deep dark eyes of the man in front of you, this wasn’t the Severus you were used to…

An hour and a half, you sat in his office and talked to him about your frustrations and the daily struggles you deal with your family. He doesn’t challenge your words, instead; he listens carefully, refusing still to look away from your distressed face.

After feeling too weak to talk anymore, the room is filled with an eerie silence once more. You grow restless and fidget. Yet, the soft stare of Professor Snape gives you some unexpectant ease.

“So please professor… dodon't have me kicked out…” you chuckle tensely as you give him an unexpectant smile which startles him as much as it does you.

His established manner doesn’t cease to impress you nor does it cease to taunt you. You look at the straight expression on his face and still sense the emotion bubbling behind his deep brown eyes. The same feelings of adoration you feel periodically seems to edge forward as he sits down at the seat next to you, filling you with downright panic as he looks at you with his calm steady eyes and still lips.

“I will do no such thing”

“If only you come to my class periodically as a make-up for breaking school rules…despite the reason...” he says steadfastly. You nod your head in agreement and gradually push back your seat.

“Tell Minerva that I needed you to stay after class if she asks.”

“You can go…but come back later tonight to help me sort out the new ingredients…after sunsets. Understand?”

You nod your head once more and rise from your chair, with an unintentional lax smile.

You quickly fix your expression and blush as you turn your head away from him as you hurry towards the door.

Severus digs his fingers into the cloth of his cuffs tugging at the black fabric as he watched the ends of your mouth smile only for a second.

“If you don’t come Ms. l/n. I must rethink being so remorseful for your actions”. He forced out bitterly, trying to keep his commanding composure.

“Yes, of course…and thank you, professor…” you turn around in the doorway, your face hot with embarrassment.

” for…being here for me and actually willing to listen”

You shut the door behind you.

Severus’s gaze transfixed where you formerly stood. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard, he didn’t know how to react…for a second he thought that this was bad…that now you thought you could rely on him you would try to use him, perhaps think you were better than others and had a free pass…but then again, he didn’t see that in your eyes. He saw a hint of something he didn’t exactly want to see because it made things even more difficult. One thing was sure and that was that he would continue to keep an eye on you. After what you had confided in him today, he…had too.

He stumbled up from his chair and sighed in relief as no one in the room saw him do so, he rubbed his thumb over the tip of his chin and slowly walked back to his desk and sat down.

“y/n…l/n…”

he muttered under his breath as he grabbed an empty vial and tossed it around in his hand.

He discreetly continued to repeat your name softly to himself as if trying to discover something.

Even if it wasn’t appropriate for him to realize it.

[kimjongdaely]

The Wizarding World of EXO [Chapter 8: Do Kyungsoo and the Werewolf]

Hogwarts!AU

All EXO members

Summary: Welcome to the Wizarding World, ten years after the Second Wizarding War. Now, nine students at Hogwarts each have their own story to tell, secrets to discover and identities to grow.

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│Chapter 6│ Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Chapter 9│Chapter 10│Chapter 11│Epilogue

Defense of the Dark Arts class.

It is, perhaps, the most interesting class out of them all. Kyungsoo did enjoy potion brewing and herbology, and, frankly, he is good at all everything. But he knows there is a whole world of spells out there not taught in their other classes, and the Defense of the Dark Arts class acts as a portal to that world. It only dabbles on the surface of the Dark Arts, but it’s fine. For now.

He’s near the end of the line, waiting for his turn to deal with the Boggart. It’s quite interesting, seeing the fears that his fellow classmates have. He also wonders what his greatest fear is. What will the Boggart turn into? Kyungsoo feels like he doesn’t really have a fear like the others. He’s not scared of insects or reptiles, the dark, evil family members or teachers.

There’s a soft whimper in front of him as he moves up in line. In front of him is a Gryffindor girl, and as she turns her head, he sees she is biting her bottom lip, her arms around her body tightly. She looks terrified.

Which he finds incredibly odd. He’s never seen her without a smile, always bright and bubbly—perhaps a little too much for his taste. But she’s like an actual ray of sunshine, so to see her this scared is really a rare sight indeed.

Furrowing his brows, Kyungsoo leans forward slightly to whisper, “Are you okay?”

She jumps a little in surprise, turning towards him. Her pupils are blown wide, her body trembling just the slightest bit. “Uh...yes. I-I’m fine.” She answers softly, not convincing at all.

Kyungsoo’s frown deepens, but he shrugs and nods. “Okay, if you say so.” It’s not his place to pry, and he has never been the best with human interaction to begin with.

After a while, it’s her turn with the Boggart. Her trembles are even worse, until she’s quivering like a vibration. The professor flashes her a reassuring smile, saying gently, “Now, there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of—” But the second he touches the wardrobe, she’s gone. Running out the door at the speed of light, yelling out a hasty apology.

The whole class stares after her in shock and confusion. The professor looks equally baffled, blinking. “Um...Mr. Do! Would you please go after her for me and make sure she’s alright?”

Kyungsoo snaps his head towards the professor, eyes wide with surprise. He points at himself, mouthing ‘me?’ in disbelief. The professor nods, waving him off and Kyungsoo mentally groans, thought he would never talk back or disobey a professor.

Curse him and his good student personality.

He runs after her, and man she is fast. He chases her down three hallways before he finally snaps, yelling, “Stop!”

His voice thunders down the hall, making her freeze and turn towards him with wide, terrified eyes like that of a rabbit in the presence of a wolf.

He finally catches up to her, panting. He flushes at his own actions; he has always been known as the quiet Ravenclaw kid, and almost never raises his voice. “Why did you run?”

“I—” She takes a tentative step back, but Kyungsoo grabs her wrist in case she decides to run again. She struggles for a bit before she slumps, her lip jutting out in a pout. “I don’t know—I just—I got scared.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo frowns, hold also loosening on her yet not fully letting go. “Are you really that scared of something?”

Her lip wobbles before she sighs, nodding. “I...It’s not that I’m scared per se...”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible. Often people avoid him because he can't see very well without his glasses and ends up looking like he’s glaring.

“I—” She relaxes slightly, gazing up at him with what seems like hope. If feels like she might tell him, but then she pulls away, wrapping her arm around herself again and shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”

Kyungsoo merely nods, knowing he shouldn’t pry,m. It’s her secret, her fear, and she has every right not to tell him—him, who is no more than an acquaintance. Yet he can’t help but feel curious when she walks away.

“Hi, Soo!”

He blinks, feeling very exposed as several students turn to look at him. She is waving at him with her usual bright smile, pushing through the others in the hallways to get to him. Once she reaches him, she throws her arms around his neck hugging him tightly.

Kyungsoo splutters, baffled and confused. What the heck?

“Hey, um, nice to see you?” He says awkwardly, afraid to pull away or hug her back. He’s never had anyone act this way towards him.

She pulls away slightly, beaming at him, but something feels off. Her eyes aren’t smiling, in fact, there’s slight panic in them.

“Are you okay?” He asks immediately, concerned.

“I—No.” Her smile immediately falters, and she presses her face against his chest. “Can I talk to you, please?”

“Uh, sure.” Kyungsoo agrees, though he feel quite awkward like this. His hands are getting clammy and he’s sure she can hear his heart beating. But setting all these weird reactions aside, he’s more concerned for her than anything. Something must be terribly wrong for her to act so strange.

He lets her pull him away, to an isolated corner where all the students have already left for their other classes. She pulls him close, exhales mingling and making it slightly difficult to breathe—that, and he finds his breath caught in his throat.

She looks wary, nervous, scared. Her eyes dart around, as if to make sure they’re really alone.

She breathes in deeply, saying lowly only for him to hear. “I’m going to tell you a secret. You need to promise you will never ever tell anyone.”

Kyungsoo nods, but before he can react she has her wand out, pointed against his neck in a deadly threat. Her eyes narrow, her lips tightly pursed. “Do you swear on your life?”

A chill goes up his spine, but he nods, gulping. He’s sure she could kill him if she wanted to.

“...Okay.” She whispers, putting her wand away and allowing Kyungsoo to relax slightly. “I...” She squeezes her eyes tight, forcing out the next words like it physically pains her. “I’m a werewolf.”

There’s a pause, a long moment of silence where Kyungsoo tries to let it sink in. She’s a werewolf.

“Is that why...?” Kyungsoo asks, things beginning to click into place in his mind.

“Yes.” She breathes out. “I can’t face the Boggart because it will undoubtedly turn into a full moon. I’m scared it’ll give me away.” She bites her lower lip, looking as if she might cry.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kyungsoo says gently, trying to comfort her. But he’s curious about one thing. “Why did you tell me? I mean, we don’t really know each other.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just…feel like I can trust you. I can, can’t I?” Suddenly she seems more threatening again, making Kyungsoo gulp and nod quickly.

She lets out a small smile, though she still seems bothered. Kyungsoo frowns. “Is there something else?”

She hesitates before she nods slowly. “Tonight is the full moon. I’ll have to go to the Shrieking Shack, but I’m scared. It really hurts.” She scrunches her face in pain up at the thought.

“Well, I could go with you.” Kyungsoo offers gently.

She looks horrified, eyes blown wide as she shakes her head frantically. “No! You can’t. I might hurt you, and I don’t want that.”

“You own’t hurt me.” Kyungsoo says, suddenly very confident.

“But—”

“No buts.” Kyungsoo lets out a smile at her defeated expression. “I’ll meet you after class?”

He’s heard rumors about the Shrieking Shack, lots of horror stories. About how people would hear pained screams at night once a month. In person, though, it looks no more than an old, abandoned and a little unstable house. But perhaps that’s what makes it so spooky. For Kyungsoo, though, knowing the origins of the rumors makes it much less intimidating.

It’s around dusk, so they both sit cross-legged on the wooden floor, waiting. Her lips are red from continuous biting, her eyes looking at anything but him. Her eyes are wide with fear.

“So,” Kyungsoo starts, trying to lighten the mood. “Do you like books?”

She seems a little surprised at the sudden question. “Sure.” She answers. “Sometimes I like to go to the library.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo asks, surprised. He didn’t actually expect her to like reading, despite his question. “That’s cool. To be honest,” Kyungsoo says, a little embarrassed. “The library is the only place where I feel comfortable.”

“Why?” She frowns, a little more relaxed now. “There are lots of placed to go. Like Diagon Alley, or even to watch a Quidditch match.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, rubbing his neck. “Well, I don’t have a lot of friends. The library is quiet and where I can be alone. The only person I talk to is Minseok, a seventh year Ravenclaw. These two Gryffindor boys, Chanyeol and Baekhyun, always pester me, though. I think they were talking about a club these few days.”

She smiles, eyes crinkling at that. “You know, I thought you were really scary the first time I saw you.” She leans back, eyes twinkling. “But now, I like you.”

Kyungsoo flushes, looking away to avoid her eyes, coughing to cover his embarrassment. But suddenly he hears her groan in pain, and when he looks back at her, she’s curled in on herself.

He watches as her skin turns dark, hair appearing over her body. Her ears become pointier, and she howls in pain as she drops onto all fours.

Kyungsoo pushes himself immediately off the ground into a crouching position, holding his hands out in a non-threatening way. “Easy,” Kyungsoo says lowly, “It’s me, Kyungsoo.”

Her eyes narrow on him, and she lets out a growl as she lunges at him, clawing and biting at him.

He ducks, managing to avoid her. “It’s me!”

He tries to soothe her down, but she only howls again. He expected her to attack him again, but instead she starts clawing and biting at herself.

Kyungsoo makes his way to her struggling form carefully, slowly pressing a hand against her back. She recoils immediately, hissing and snapping at him, her lips curled up to show her fangs.

Kyungsoo doesn’t relent though, placing his hand on her back again and gently stroking her. “It’s okay. It’s me, Kyungsoo.”

She struggles for a bit longer, but slowly starts to calm down. He lets her rest her head on his lap, and he continues to pet her almost like a dog. He smiles, “Next time I’ll brew a Wolfsbane Potion so you keep your human mind even when transformed.”

She lets out a quiet whine from her throat as she slowly relaxes, and her eyes slide closed.

“How did you do that?” She asks as they leave class. “I can’t believe I didn’t hurt you at all! It’s amazing!”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. She said that for what seems like the millionth time, unable to believe the fact that he managed to get out completely unscathed.

When they went to Hogwarts that morning, they were taken to Professor McGonagall’s office for interrogation. She was furious that he had disappeared without a word last night, but he managed to avoid punishment when he explained he was with her.

During Defense of the Dark Arts class, she no longer feared facing a Boggart, and handled it wonderfully.

Kyungsoo also finally agreed to join Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s club thing since they wouldn’t stop pestering him about it. He also got her to join with him, since he’s sure he’ll go insane if he’s with Chanyeol and Baekhyun for too long. But apparently Minseok is also in that club, which is quite a pleasant surprise.

“But why?” She continues, confused yet a bit too excited. “Why didn’t I hurt you? I guess it was a good idea to let you come.”

Kyungsoo grins, nodding. “Of course.”

He’s never wrong.

Previous Chapter│Next Chapter

The Wizarding World of EXO Mini Masterlist

A/N: Yay I managed to rewrite the second half. It’s not exactly the same though and I’m still angry at myself. Hope you like it!

Tags: @g-exo @crazy-ladybug-lady @ugeuuupabo @watermonkey0 @baekfanapleintemps @justrinpcy @kkaebty @lolwhenwilliever @minhuning @lovebuginlove @ravyeolii @chanyeolol @the-freefeather

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©kimjongdaely

Talk to me!

[leviathanpotato]

Reflections - Young!Remus Lupin X Werewolf!OC

PART 4

Part 1       Part 2       Part 3

Oof. I’ve been resurrected. Starting to think that actual revision would have helped with my mocks.

Feel like I should put a small summary even though this is the fourth part. But then again I don’t have the energy

Warning - Panic attack.

I wouldn’t call this angsty, I just wrote it at a very low point.

Elise hated history with a passion. On any day, she was incompetent at the topic, but today she could barely concentrate. She was too busy thinking about boys. Remus was distracting in every sense, Mulciber was a creep who needed to be destroyed and for some reason Sirius wanted to see her. Elise preferred to think about the first of the three, and found herself slipping away as she tried to identify what kind of shampoo he used from the smell.

A crumpled piece of parchment landed on her desk. She jumped.

Unfurling it, Elise was greeted with the neat but barely readable scrawl of Sirius Black.

‘We need to talk.’

Frowning, Elise turned her quill to the parchment. Since when was Sirius that desperate to have a serious conversation about anything?

‘About?’ She scrawled back. She paused, checking to make sure Binns wasn’t looking before chucking the parchment back to Sirius.

A few seconds later, it returned.

‘Last night’

The letters were scratched with obvious anger. Elise glowered at the sheet, thinking hard. Sirius left her with Remus then left to presumably meet James, what could he possibly be pissed about about regarding the previous night? Sirius didn’t even know her that well. Why did he suddenly want to talk?

‘What do you mean?’ She replied, scowling as she tossed the paper over her shoulder.

‘You know what. I need you to talk to me. Meet me after class.’

The letters made Elise’s blood run cold. Her fingers shook slightly as she struggled to control the quill.

‘Leave me alone’

She lobbed the paper at him. He sent several notes back, which she ignored. He even managed to charm some sheets into hitting her head repeatedly until she swatted them away with her hand.

The bell had barely finished ringing when Elise raced out of the door. She now had not one, but two angry, dark haired boys to avoid. Brilliant. She found herself rushing aimlessly through the corridors, hoping to find a really obscure corner of the castle that no one went to. As she hurried along, she listened keenly to every footstep. There was one she picked out. A heavy thudding that seemed to be getting closer with each second.

Elise started running. So did the steps. They echoed right in her ear as she dashed down the stairs, pushing past a large group of third years. After shoving through the hordes of people, she slipped through a rickety door and continued down a dusty path. The footsteps had gone. She’d lost them in the crowd.

Sighing, Elise keeled over, heaving as she caught her breath. She received several odd stares as she panted for breath, leaning against the wall so that she wouldn’t collapse. She made a mental note to start exercising.

Relieved, Elise ambled down the corridor. She didn’t recognise this area of the school from memory, but she vaguely knew that she was somewhere near the Ravenclaw tower entrance. She padded along, noticing the brickwork that was in dire need of redoing. She reached out to brush a dusty cobweb of one of the paintings.

A hand grabbed her arm and she screamed. The small gaggle of students in front of her turned around, giggling at her.

Flushing, she turned to see Sirius, his knuckles white as he gripped her arm, looking pissed. “You are not getting out of this, Elise.”

Sirius pulled Elise through the hallway as she struggled to keep up. He kept pulling her onwards. Her arm began to sting from the harsh grip. She found herself stumbling forwards as he marched further until they found a barren classroom. He twirled around to look for witnesses, before yanking her through the door.

Elise tripped forwards into the desk whilst Sirius frowned at her. The numbness spreading up her hands as a falling feeling grew inside her. She was falling into herself, strapped to a chair as the TV screen depicting her life slid out of view. The sounds around her grew muffled and dull, she was leaving her body, back at the other end of the telescope and there was nothing she could do. When she regained her balance, they stared at each other, Elise partially terrified and Sirius furious.

“What?” Elise broke the silence. Her own voice sounded alien to her.

Sirius flinched, as though forgetting that she was right in front of him. His glare softened into a look of pity.

“I’m not sure how to word this.” He said. His anger had completely dissipated and was replaced with a strange tone, almost sad. He played with his hands, unsure whether to meet her gaze. “Okay… All I’m going to say is…” He started, beginning to sound mournful. “I know this will be hard for you, but I need you to tell me the truth.”

Elise felt ice spread through her veins. No he doesn’t, a voice called out in her head.

Her mind span so much she felt dizzy. She dropped suddenly into her chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She choked out of her numb lips. She had completely left the room; her senses were growing further away. Her ears were whining and her sight blurring. She was desperate. Maybe he was being overdramatic about something completely different. It was Sirius after all.

Sirius’ gaze softened further. He sighed sorrowfully, drawing up a chair to face her. He mimed claws slashing across her face with his fingers.

Elise’s flinched so violently Sirius’ hand jumped out to catch her. She started shaking her head, her shivering fingers trailing over skin. Her lungs started heaving. She’d already lost control of her life and now her body was refusing to obey.

In her distraught, distracted state this morning, she had completely forgotten to hide the ugly white lines ruining her porcelain skin.

She raised her hands to her mouth, staring at the ground. She hoped that maybe if she stared at the floor long enough, it would collapse into a black hole and suck her into her inevitable doom. All she succeeded in was peppering the stone with tear stains. Her whole body was shaking like she was being electrocuted. Black splotches swarmed her vision. She felt uncontrollable sobs heave through her. Her breaths started wheezing without her control and the walls started collapsing inwards.

Terrified, she jumped out of the chair, feeling her throat constricting her. She couldn’t breathe, her ears were droning; she felt like she was falling into the black hole, being twisted and crushed and ripped apart from the inside.

In her frantic state, she was vaguely aware of Sirius softly taking her shoulders and laying her down, keeping her back supported. He gave her space, but was near enough to whisper gently in her ears.

“Hey. I’m here. It’s okay. Just breathe, okay. In…out… Can you do that?” He murmured, attempting to brush her hair but giving up when his fingers got stuck.

Elise swallowed, nodding at him. It reminded her of the way her mother would calm her after her nightmares as a child. Elise felt the panic slipping away as fast as it had come. She was still crying, but the ringing in her ears dulled and her sight cleared. She felt herself returning to her body, the feeling returning to her fingers. Slowly, she allowed Sirius to help her sit up.

They sat together for some time until Elise’s sniffles slowed down enough for her to talk.

“I’m so sorry Elise. I promise I only wanted to help. I didn’t know you would react so badly. It’s just, I heard Mulciber mention it and…” He looked down at his fingers. “..I’d never felt so angry at someone in my life.” Sirius babbled his face white and gaunt.

“Thank you.” Elise whispered hoarsely. Sirius noticed and conjured up a glass of water. She took the glass and drank, the cool liquid soothing the fire in her throat.

“I always wondered…ever since we found out about Remus.” Sirius mentioned, kneeling next to her.

She glanced up, hope numbing the crushing pain in her chest. “You don’t hate him…even when he’s a werewolf?”

“Hate him?” Sirius echoed, barking out a short laugh. “He’s one of my best mates, of course I don’t hate him. I don’t hate you either, whatever anyone says, you’re perfect, you got that.”

Elise shook her head as she took a long gulp of water. Part of her hoped that she could drink enough to not have to talk to him and then escape to the toilet. Sirius raised an eyebrow at her.

“No, you don’t shake your head at me, Fluffy. You are amazing you’re going to start joining in with me and the others and you’re going to feel fantastic and then you and Remus will get married and it’ll be perfect and I will be godfather to all your children and we’ll all live happily ever after.” He finished, waving his hands in the air extravagantly.

Elise laughed bitterly. “I don’t think he even likes me.” She said. She frowned. “Wait…Fluffy?”

“Elise, Remus is obsessed with you. He keeps talking about you when you’re not around and if I had a galleon for every time he complained that he didn’t know you well enough I’d have more money than all the vaults in Gringotts.” He told her, sternly. “And he stares at you in lessons.”

Elise felt herself blushing. “So you want us to hang out.”

“You’ll be in the gang.” He responded proudly.

“You don’t think I’m a freak.” Elise asked. She needed to be sure. He was offering her what she’d always dreamed of, someone who likes her even with the truth…and a relationship with Remus.

Sirius sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “You and Remus are bloody twins; I had this exact conversation with him when we found out about him.” He knelt down in front of her, gently taking her hand. “Elise, what you are doesn’t matter, it should never matter to the people who love you and if it does then they don’t deserve someone as kind as you. It’s who you are that counts, on the inside. You have such a unique personality and that makes you special. Think about it, I come from a family who is proud that my brother wants to be a death eater, they are proud that they are ‘superior pure bloods’. I have their blood in me, but does that make me like them? No. We are who we chose to be, we have that choice. Your lycanthropy doesn’t control you and it never will.”

Elise felt a new warmth spread through her; a flickering flame of hope. Unlike the searing heat of pain, this burst like a supernova inside her, driving away the emptiness and the sickness. She felt happy, truly happy. She felt, for the first time in years, like she truly belonged in this life, like somebody actually cared for her. She felt tears swell up, happy tears. She beamed at him, an uncontrollable smile that she’d never felt before.

Sirius reflected her smile, before turning stern again. “Now, how do you want me to deal with him?”

“Him?” Elise responded with a dry throat. Her happiness slipped away as fast as it had come.

“Yes.” He spat, looking outraged at the thought of him. “The prick. Do you honestly expect me to let him own you like that?”

“What did you hear?” She croaked.

Sirius scowled. “Not a lot. The threat about finishing his work until he left you in the corridor.”

Elise looked down. Part of her was glad that he didn’t know anymore, there were some things she could never be ready to deal with. “Sirius. Please don’t. If you go after him he’ll tell everyone I couldn’t forgive you for that. Leave him alone, for me.” She pleaded at him, looking up with puppy dog eyes.

“He’s ruining your life.” He fumed.

“And if you touch him he has the power to end it.” She shouted at him, leaping to her feet. Sirius’ eyes widened slightly as she grabbed his sleeves. “Please, you can’t speak to him.” She begged.

“Does he touch you?” Sirius spat. Elise could almost see the steam coming out of his ears, knowing that the question had been plaguing him from the very beginning.

“No.” Elise said, careful to keep her voice steady. She would argue that she was technically telling the truth, but if he knew everything then he would think otherwise and then she’d have to cover up a murder. “He doesn’t. He thinks I’m filth - and I’m a half blood. He just wants me to make him look good. Please don’t hurt him.”

Sirius stared at her, his eyes flickering between hers - blue to amber, ice to fire. “Tell me as soon as you change your mind.” He muttered. “Then that fucker is dead.”

Elise relaxed, letting go of his robes. “Thank you” She whispered. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did.” Said Sirius. “You’re Remus’ crush. You’re one of us now.”

Probably 2 or 3 parts to go now. Low key want to delete the whole thing.

[pennyisalesbian]

Okay, after the wip i have a lot of question, but what means hih p1 and hhhh hphm??? really the name caught my attention.

-rubs hands together- I’m probably way too sleep deprived to be posting this right now, but hey! Life is meant to be lived, and so I will live it to the best of my ability. And that means posting at midnight with blurry vision.

hih p1 is my only actual Harry Potter fic (everything else is Hogwarts Mystery). It started off as a casual “hey what if Sirius’s name was cleared and Harry lived with him, how would stuff change” and now my best friend and I have this ridiculously huge AU, which we refer to as “house in Hogsmeade” (aka hih). Another change we made was putting Harry in Slytherin, so this particular fic is about his sorting during year one. There’s not much of it, but I’ll post a little snippet under the cut.

hhhhh untitled fic is a post-graduation fic, taking place circa Goblet of Fire. My main motivation to write it was to document my own personal headcanons for Ben’s mental illness and how he copes with childhood trauma as an adult, with a healthy dose of Barnaben because I am myself. It’s also entirely from Barnaby’s point of view, because why not watch Ben slip further and further into a horrible, negative spiral from the point of view of someone who loves him and wants to do anything to save him from himself, but can’t? Good stuff. (snippet under the hih p1 snippet, below the cut.)

hih p1:

After he finishes eating, Harry tries to talk to the boy from the train – Ron, who was sorted into Gryffindor – or the girl with bushy hair who was sorted Ravenclaw after a very long, impatient silence – but the prefect assigned to lead them to their dormitory stops him before he crosses the great hall.

“You have to stay with the group,” she says, a bit haughtily.

“Can’t run off to play with your blood-traitor friend tonight,” Draco says as Harry sits down again, and Harry bristles, even though he’s not sure what that word means.

It’s not until they get back to their dormitory that Draco attempts to be something like friendly again. The Slytherin common room has glass panels that look straight out into the lake and a crackling fireplace sending warmth radiating through the stone floor, which Harry is sure is at least partly magic. Their dorms are much the same, the floor heating Harry’s cold feet and leaving the air pleasantly cool and the blankets wonderfully warm.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know,” Draco says, sitting on his the edge of his four-poster bed while Harry unpacks his few things into the trunk at the end of his own bed. “About being friends with the right sort. Here in the wizarding world, you’ve got to have the right connections and keep the right company, or you’ll never get anywhere. Being Slytherin is a good first step. My family, the Malfoys—we’ve got loads of connections. I could help you.”

A sick heaviness settles in his stomach at the implication that just being in this house marks him as some sort of aristocratic snob, or maybe something worse. Harry says bitterly, “You don’t even know me.”

“You’re Harry Potter,” Draco says matter-of-factly. “I don’t have to.”

Harry doesn’t answer. He gets into bed and he closes the curtains, and he lies in the cool darkness and thinks and thinks until he can’t anymore.

hhhhh untitled fic:

“So what happened earlier?”

Ben is quiet, tracing a finger along the velvety ear of the kneazle kit. “Bad day.”

“I reckoned,” Barnaby says. He turns, tilting his head to the side. “Work?”

Ben shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t know. I…”

Barnaby waits for him to finish, then prompts him on after it becomes clear that he isn’t going to continue on his own. “You what?”

He shrugs again, but now his shoulders are shaking, and he curls in on himself, hiding his face and rubbing a hand over his eyes. He says something, so softly that Barnaby can’t hear it.

“What?” One of the kits in Barnaby’s lap rolls over, kneading her needle-sharp claws into his leg.

“I said…” Ben rubs his hand against his eye again, then swears softly. “I lost the job. They, uh… They said they wanted somebody ‘more consistent’ and I’m not…” He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers, then dropped his hand to his lap. “I don’t know. I screwed it up.”

Barnaby is quiet, but he slides closer to Ben and holds out one hand. Ben looks at it for a long moment, then sets his own palm hesitantly on top. Barnaby squeezes.

“I’m sorry,” Ben says, his voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. “I can’t—god, I don’t know why I can’t just stay on top of this one thing, just one bloody job. Just getting up at the same time every day and going to do the same thing and not screwing it up, just for once—”

“Ben,” Barnaby interrupts. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Ben cries, and something in hisvoice breaks. “It’s my fault, I missed three days last week because I thought I was sick, but I don’t think I was, I just thought I was and then I made myselfsick because of it, and then yesterday I couldn’t get out of bed because I was so, so damn tired and I don’t know why. So today I go in, and that’s… that’sjust it. That’s too many strikes, and I’m out, and it’s my own bloody fault.”

He’s crying again now, and Barnaby feels his chest tighten the way it always does when this happens. Whenever Ben is upset, whenever he gets like this—Barnaby feels like someone has hurt him too. He moves closer and pulls Ben into a hug, barelydisturbing the kneazle kits in both of their laps.

“It’s okay,” Barnaby says softly, and Ben shakes, breath shuddering in and out against Barnaby’s neck. “There are other jobs.”

[mirasdarkmaterials]

The Wizarding World - The Coming of the Metamorphmagus - Chapter 5 (Legends & Charms)

THE WIZARDING WORLD of Harry Potter - THE  COMING OF THE METAMORPHMAGUS

   David was still in utter disbelief at what he just witnessed. He thought that he has seen it all: enchanted food, elves, half-giants, freaky water, ghosts! But cats turning into humans, he looks at the cat before him and wonders if this is a poor soul of Mrs. McGonagall…or a real cat.    Reality was getting hard to distinguish in this place…the laws of the Muggle world just don’t apply to this realm! Minerva usually pulls this stunt with all the first year students to gage their ideas, inspiration and to see which students will be trouble. She adjusts her glasses as she addresses the class. “I must apologize for my tardiness, there was an incident in the courtyard prior to class that I had to attend to.” as everyone turns and glances at Rowan, Lily and David. “Please, if I can have your attention for a brief moment longer,” she says as everyone looks at her. “Welcome to your transfiguration class, today we will learn proper wand techniques! All movements should be firm and decisive! Any movements that are weak or indecisive will result in fail transfiguration. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.” she begins and get to the subject, “Now, can anyone tell me what one can use transfiguration for?”    Rowan raises her hand as Minerva acknowledges her, “To transform objects into another?”    Minerva nods her head as she explains, “Correct Miss Bagnold, we can use transfiguration to transform one object into another…you all will not be learning those spells until year two however. Any other uses?” as she looks at the many faces looking at her.    David raises his hand and gives it a shot, “What about revealing an objects true form?”    Minerva was surprised to see David take a chance in answering a question as only two days ago, all he knew was the Muggle world. She nods as this brings her to the subject of today. “Correct Mr. Adriatian, we can use transfiguration to reveal an object, or persons...” as she glances at David for a moment “...true form.” as she writes onto the chalkboard…a true artifact! ‘Transfiguration is very hard work and needs a magically scientific disciplined mind!’ “According to Emeric Switch, transfiguring requires decisive wand movements. Do not wiggle to twirl your wand unnecessarily or your transfiguration will certainly be unsuccessful!”    Rowan leans into David’s ear, “You should do great in this!” as Minerva glances at David and Rowan and tries to ignore Rowan’s out of place conversation, knowing it is important for self-encouragement.    “Transfiguration is literally advance mathematics! You need to take all this into consideration before applying your spell.” she writes this on the blackboard: T = (w×c)(v×a)×Z∗    “‘T’ equals the intended transformation…take your cat for example…what would you want to turn your cat into?” Minerva asks as a Slytherin gives a cocky reply.    “How about a pot of gold!” he says as Minerva accepts the idea and continues.    “So ‘T’ equals a pot of gold and to be successful you need to consider first your wand’s power times by your concentration at the moment. At the same time, you need to know the cats viciousness times by the cat’s bodyweight and times that by the power of the spell, which is ‘Z’. Each and every one of you will have 10 minutes to take mental measurements of your individual cat and what you want to turn it into and when I call your name, you’ll write in on the board.” the students remain transfixed on her. "Well, have at it!"    David looks at the foot tall grey cat as he tries to calm the cat, but it wants nothing to do with him and if he tries to touch it, it hisses at him. A few Slytherin’s chuckle as Rowan tries to help, and takes the cat with no issue, but as she hands the cat to David, the cat freaks out! “I think your cat is jinxed!” Rowan says as David looks at his fussy feline.    “Okay Mr. Kitty, we need a truce between you and I!” David says as Lily comments.    “Ah, I think that is a Mrs. Kitty, David!” she says as David smiles as it does not help his problem.    David writes down the equation and then thinks of what to turn this cat into: ‘I know the perfect thing to turn you into…a catfish!’ David thinks as he writes Catfish on his paper and writes: ‘Catfish = Decisive wand movement X Concentration while taking the cats state of mind X the cats weight 2.5 pounds X the incantation.’    “Okay, times up…” Minerva looks around to see many lost faces as science does not come easy to wizards and witches. “Mr. Adriatian, please come to the board and write your answer.” David looks around as he rises and walks over to the chalkboard and writes: (Catfish= Decisive wand movement X concentration + Cats state of mind X 2.5 pounds of mass with X being the incantation.) David lays down the chalk and looks at Minerva as she looks at David’s work and says nothing as she dismisses him back to his chair. David does not know what to think as Rowan and Lily come to the front and add their answers and then the rest of the class. Most of the answers shy away from David’s answer whereas Rowan’s and Lily’s answer are close to his.    Minerva looks at the class as she holds the answer in advance. “Can you use transfiguration on yourself or another?” she asks as there is a mixed response. David shakes his head as it does not sound safe and Lily nods her head as Rowan is divided. “Yes, you can use transfiguration on yourself…but it is very dangerous and if you choose to live as a human transfiguration or are an animagus, you must register with the Ministry of Magic or face a trial and punishment. It is dangerous as if a human is transfigured into a lower class animal, you can become trapped in that form for the rest of your life. Only Animagi retain their mental processes.”    “What about the dead?” asks a student as Minerva shakes her head.    “You are speaking of necromancy, we don’t teach the Dark Arts here Mr. Rowley. Transfiguration is only used on living or inanimate objects…also, to transfigure an item like the size of the Main Table in the Great Hall would require much concentration and power…which most of you will never achieve! Even I cannot transfigure a Dragon into a pot!”    David looks up sharply at the mention of dragons, “Dragon’s? There are dragon’s here?” he asks as Minerva shakes her head.    “Not here…but they do come here from time to time.” she states as David tries to picture a dragon like Smaug clawing around! Minerva continues with lecture, “The second order of Transfiguration is Conjuration and you must follow the five principals of exceptions of Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration…anyone know the first one?”    Lily raises her hand, “There is only one known and it is a restriction that you cannot conjure food.”    “Unless it already made and charmed…” explains a Hufflepuff first year student, hearing about how the elves send the food to the Great Hall.    “Well done!” Minerva says as she smiles. “10 points awarded to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor!” she says as Lily smiles, earning her first points whereas David lost Ravenclaw 50 points for his little stunt with Kalama. “So what is the four branches of Transfiguration?” David raises his hand as she acknowledges. "Mr. Adriatian."    “Transformation, Untransfiguration, Vanishment, and Conjuration.” he says as Minerva nods and asks him.    “Explain Transformation Mr. Adriatian…” Minerva says as she feels that David is doing well and wants to see if he is making connections.    David hesitates as he does not want to disappoint her, “Transformation is the process to alter ones form. Human transformation is split into three subgroups; Animagus, Metamorphmagus, Therianthrope...”    “What about vampires?” asks Mr. Rowley.    “No…they can’t change form at will Mr. Rowley, same with Werewolves.” Minerva pauses to ask a difficult question. “What other subgroup was there before it went extinct?” she ask as David raises his hand.    David hesitates to answer as he isn’t confident in saying the word. “Mermaids?” he says as Minerva nods her head and smiles.    “Well done Mr. Adriatian, for adding a correct answer to the board, answering the four branches and even four subgroups…I award Ravenclaw 50 points.” David smiles as he got his house’s points back…but would have had 50 plus if he didn’t duel Kalama in the first place. “For homework, you are to study and practice the incantation of reparifarge which is used to reverse partial transformations and is required before you can move on to further spells…come prepare next Monday to demonstrate.” as there is a chime and the class is over and the students file out. David, Lily and Rowan stay behind to wait for David as he approaches Minerva nervously.    “Professor McGonagall, for the reparifarge spell, how do we know if we are doing the spell correctly?” he asks as Minerva looks at him and comes up with an idea.    “What you have in your pocket?” she asks as David takes out his cellphone and places it on her table. She takes out her wand and casts a partial transfiguration and turns his smartphone into a partial old fashion brick cell phone. David picks it up and smiles and pockets it.    "Wow...what a downgrade! Verizon will be pissed!" he chuckles as he thinks of question two. “Second question,” David asks as Minerva nods; showing great patients. “Where can I find Mr. Hagrid?” David asks as Minerva squints her eyes at the strange request.    “He is outside of the schools grounds…near the Haunted Forest.” she says as she picks up her books and heads for the door.    “Isn’t that area restricted?” David asks, not wanting to get in trouble again. He just got Ravenclaw’s points back and he does not want to lose them again.    “At night, yes…” she says as she opens the door and leaves as David looks at Rowan and Lily. David brushes off his robes as he sighs and looks at Rowan.    “Any idea where the Haunted Forest is?” he asks as Rowan shakes her head, she will not take him.    “Sorry, I will not risk losing more points for Ravenclaw.” she says as she does not want to leave David all alone in the dark. “I’d check you welcome book…I am sure there has to be a map in there!” as she and Lily turns to go. David understands their reluctance to go. Students are warned to stay away from the woods and lake…wild things lurk there. Inside the Transfiguration class all alone…well except for about 20 cats…he pulls out his book and sure enough, there is a map that shows where he is. Currently in the school wing of the castle…he needs to go back to the dorms, through the courtyard and over the foot bridge that spans the Deep Gorge.    Exiting the classroom and walking along the school’s edge, David follows the map back to the second tallest tower that serves as Headmistress McGonagall’s office from where she watched the duel and the offices of Professor Hermione Granger-Weasley where she can stay in direct contact with the Ministry. Climbing up the tower, he comes to the third floor and takes the walkway across to the dorms. Heading for the Grand Staircase, he goes to ground floor and walks through the cobblestone courtyard as students stand around in small groups talking about their first class.    David goes pretty much unseen as he goes through the main gates and out to the courtyard guarded by the last few surviving sentinels. Many are missing chunks of stone, limbs or even their weapons…but stand guard over the massive foot bridge that crosses the deep chasm.    Stepping off the cobblestone walkway and onto the grass he sees a hut off in the distance with smoke billowing out of the chimney. The hut is a simple structure made of the wood from the Haunted Forest and stones that were rolled here. There is a small garden surrounding the building and a fence surrounding the house. The smoke smells sweet, as if someone was cooking cake mixed with hickory. David walks up to the house and knocks lightly on the door as he waits. The door opens as Hagrid looks down at David and smiles.    “Ah good, yer got the message!” he says as he opens his door the rest of the way and waves him in. David never like to enter another person’s home, but does so out of respect and the fact that he is trapped in a strange land! “I see the clothes fit ya well!” Hagrid remarks, looking at the bright blue trim and black cloth.    “Thank you for getting them for me…plus my books!” David begins as he does not know exactly why Hagrid did so. “Thank you for helping me survive…it was certain by now I would have left and gone home…” David looks grim as he wonders if that is even possible now “…if I even can.”    “Nonsense!” Hagrid says as he checks his boiling pot. “You’ll have the chance to go home by Christmas break…unless you wish to stay?” he offers as David smiles. He really would like to go home to see his mom and dad and ask for their forgiveness for doing something as stupid as going out on his own. “Yer must stay for at least one Christmas here at Hogwarts…it is simply a magical time!”    “I think everything here is ‘magical’, Hagrid!” David remarks as his first class at least had some science in it.    “True!” Hagrid says as he stokes the fire and continues, “So how was yer first class?”    David thinks about transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, surprising, he did well in it. “It wasn’t bad…we are to practice the reparifarge spell.” he says as his cellphone was turned into a useless piece of junk!    “I never did well in transfiguration…" Hagrid says as the embers crackle "...I did well in charms and especially care of mythical creatures…which is why I asked you to stop by…” as Hagrid opens the door to the cottage and welcomes David to follow as old Fang comes over, slobbering. Fang comes up to David to sniffs him up one wall and down the next and then waddles away.    “Glad he is friendly!” David remarks, “Professor McGonagall’s cat really hated me! Even that cat that follows Mr. Filch gave me the stink eye…I don’t know why?” David says as it disappoints him.    “Don’t take it personal, Mrs. Norris is not liked by any of the students…even I would like to give that cat a good kicking!” Hagrid says as they come to the edge of the forest and take the route to the lake. “You have time?” he asks David as he nods.    “Next class is at 1pm.” he says and thinks about the third class. “Hagrid, for flying class…we are not really going to learn to fly!”    “On brooms and all!” Hagrid laughs as David’s experience in the magical world is a breath of fresh air. “Madam Hooch is a strict instructor, but she knows her stuff…you’ll do fine!” he states as they finally arrive to the shore of the lake and hands David a rake. “Need to look for some glass.” he says as David looks puzzled.    “Glass?” David asks as Hagrid nods.    “Glass.” he replies as David decides to do his best and rake the soil and finds nothing that looks like glass…only slate and stone. David helps Hagrid for about 30 minutes until Hagrid gives up. “Looks like no glass!” he says as David wipes the sweat from his forehead and nods.    “Not a shard!” David smiles as Hagrid and David leave the beach and head back to the hut. Tired from all the hiking, “Trebam uzeti disanje!” David calls out as Hagrid glances back at David.    “Huh?” he asks as he does not understand a single word the boy just muttered.    “I need to take a breath!” David replies as Hagrid pauses and is certain that isn’t what David said.    “Do yer speak any other languages?” he asks as David stares at Hagrid as it is making sense, he must have had one of his episodes again! David looks away as Hagrid sees that this has been an issue for him. “Yer don’t have to say if yer don’t want to!”    “No,” David lightly says as he will be honest with the gentle giant “for years I have had this issue of speaking phrases when I am stressed in what Ted said is Croatian…he thinks I am from there!”    “I thought you were from Fort William?” Hagrid says, remembering seeing David’s ticket when he crashed on the tracks.    “I am from Fort William…I was adopted…” David says as this is new to Hagrid.    “Adopted…” he says as he thinks about all that has transpired. “Makes sense, so you aren’t a Gill?” David shakes his head.    “I don’t know my mom and dad’s real name, Professor McGonagall keeps calling me Adriatian.” David says as Hagrid’s eyes open as wide as two full moons as the name sparks a fire in his memory.    “You say Adriatian!” Hagrid says as David nods, “No, can’t be!” he adds as his suspicions are coming true.    “What is it Hagrid?” David asks as the 7 foot tall man will not say. “Hagrid!” David cries out once more.    “Sorry David, I got the wrong name, I thought you said Adriatic!” he says as he looks at his cabin. “Come, I have another gift I have been taking care of for you.” as he opens the shed behind his house and pulls out an Ural owl. “Strix uralensis…” he says as he hands David the cage. “Isn’t she a beautiful creature!” as David looks at the white owl with brown pillars scattered all over its feathers. “Could have gotten you a toad, but those are useless and I hate cats!”    “You’re not alone!” David remarks as it seems cats hate him. “What is her name?” David asks.    “She’s your bird!” Hagrid says as David lightly chuckles, his mom and dad don’t want any pets!    “Mur,” he says as he looks at the bird and then at Hagrid. “I appreciate the gift, but I am not one for caged animals!” David says as Hagrid nods with a gleeful smile as David opens the cage and gently pulls the bird out and with a gentle toss, the bird takes flight and circles around as Hagrid and David watch the owl swore around one silent wings. Mur flies down and lands upon David’s shoulder to his surprise.    “As I said, she is your bird…and with your kindness…I think you two will be good friends.” he comes up to Mur and gently pets her and then looks at David. “Tell her to go to the owlry…there you can go see her and send letters when needed…”    “Even to home?” David asks as Hagrid nods.    “I know how much you miss yer family…” he said as he looks at the Ural owl and smiles brightly.    David looks at Mur, "Head to the owlry, and feel free to fly whenever you like my friend." Mur takes flight as she fly's toward the solo tower. David hears the bell alerting that lunch is near and looks at Hagrid. “Thank you so much for the gift Hagrid, I own you a debt!” he says as Hagrid waves off the notion.    “It was instructions from Helena Ravenclaw…first time she ever came to see me!” he says as David recalls the grey ghost…she must have been the one who coordinated all this! “But I did buy you a few things not on the list…” David smiles, “See you tomorrow in class!” he says as David nods and smiles.    “At nine a.m...” David replies as Hagrid returns to his hut to get cleaned up as David rushes across the bridge and back into the castle. Hurrying off to the Great Hall, he finds a few students have arrived including Rowan and Lily who are sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking. Lily sees David walk into the hall as she waves him over.    “Over here David!” Lily says as David joins the two girls. “Did you find Hagrid?” she asks as David nods, still over joy with the gift of his own owl.    “How is it that owls don’t claw out your eyes or fly away?” David wonders as if he took an owl back at home, he’d be bloodied!    “These are not your typical muggle owls…they were raised by Owlgots and trained to serve until death their wizard or witch.” Rowan says as she too has an own in the owlry. “Was that what Hagrid wanted to see you about?”    “I guess it is required that a student has an owl, cat or toad!” David says as Lily nods her head.    “I have an owl too, dad wasn’t to incline about having a cat and mom hates toads!” Lily says as Rowan smiles and the three sit at the table as Lily plays with her farting gnome she got from Ron. A young boy, Lily’s cousin named Hugo walks over and takes a seat at the Gryffindor table. He isn’t like the other Weasley children, his hair was quite bushy like his dads, but brown like his moms. His face decorated in freckles with the utmost inviting smile that could charm an alligator!    “Bring two over to the Gryffindor side cous?” Hugo says as David and Rowan are aware they are at the wrong table. Lily looks at Hugo, quite annoyed with his interjection as she looks at her two Ravenclaw friends.    “Head to Charm’s after lunch?” Lily asks in her charming voice as Rowan nods and takes David over to the Ravenclaw table as the Prefect glares at them.    “Just some advice,” the Prefect says, annoyed. “I’d start spending more time with your own house then the houses of others.” he looks at David with piercing eyes. “If you start ‘acting’ more like a Ravenclaw Mr. Gill, you would not make glaring mistakes that cost Ravenclaw 50 points!”    “I gained 50 points back!” David says in protest.    “No!” he barks back, “You lost us 50 points for illegal dueling!” he says as some of his roommates stare at David, hearing about David’s fooling ventures with dueling Slytherin and walking off campus. David just stands there rejected as he sighs and nods and turns and walks out of the Great Hall, disgusted as his house sneers and jeers. Rowan looks at the Prefect as she shakes her head.    “How clueless are you!” Rowan says as everyone looks at her. “He only did what he had to do to stop Slytherin from using the flipendo charm on Lily. No one would come to her aid and David did what he had to do to stop the bullying!” There is exchanged of looks across the table as the opinion on the matter of the subject changes in favor of David. Even the Prefect sinks back in his chair as he was not told this. Lunch appears before them as Ravenclaw has lost their appetite while Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin scarf down their meals. The Prefect has too much pride and ego to correct his mistake as the guilt makes him sick.    David walks across campus to the school as he goes back to the area where he royally screwed up. He does not even know where he learned those spells and he used them on another soul! David worried that if this could happen on day 1…what would happen on day 365? He could have killed those girls! Even his friends look at him like a freak, now! What was he becoming?    David sits on the banister as the water cascades behind him, soothing and calm. It is moments like now that he yearns for home and thinks to himself ‘I’ll give it one week! One week and I’m gone!’ as David tries to fit in, but he just cannot. The clouds fly by as David watches them and then pulls out his book on Charms. He looks at the map and sees that the classroom as just across the court, between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Wand Wizardry. Getting up and walking over, David opens the door and goes inside as he looks around at a classroom divided into two sections. Stadium-like seats on either side look to the center of the room like a stadium with massive windows filtering yellow light upon a staircase of books.    David walks over to the tower of books and picks one up and opens it and reads: ‘Lapses in concentration while charming can result in painful side effects; remember Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.’ David chuckles at the idea as he flips through the book. He comes to a charm as he reads it, “The Cleaning Charm, Munda prius, is a charm used to clean the target. This spell is on the W.O.M.B.A.T. test and considered an advance charm.” David places down the book as he picks up a black book and opens it.    “The Spell Of Concealment is considered an advance spell used to hide things from sight and unable to be revealed by a simple revealing counter-spell. There was one spell designed by Adriatic that requires a transfiguration and charm to break and was called ‘A Spell Of Concealment’.” David looks for the incantation, but finds that page is gone. He coughs and for a moment, the book glimmers as the missing page comes into view and then fades again. So David breathes on the book as the missing page comes into view and he sees the words: Cantatio de occultis and then the words and page fade again. “So weird!”    David places down the book and takes out his wand as he swishes and flicks as he says, “Cantatio de occultis as nothing happens. He looks at the teaching lectern and again points his wand and takes a stance and says in a strong voice, “Čarolija uskrsnuća!” just as the lectern begins to flicker and fade away and then it is gone. David stares as he walks over to where the lectern once was and finds that it isn’t there. “Oh no…!” as he realizes that he just vandalized!    “Oh no indeed!” a tiny voice says as a little man walks in from the shadows. It is Professor Flitwick who has been watching from the side and is impressed. “Where did you learn such spells?" Professor Flitwick says as he approaches David.    “Out of this book…mom taught me few before I came to Hogwarts…” David says as he is disturbed by his Head of House’s appearance and looks away. Flitwick, being the head of house for Ravenclaw, he has great interest in helping his fellow Ravenclaw’s excel.    “I’d be impressed if you could break your spell of concealment!” Flitwick says as David looks grim as he shakes his head.    “Sorry Professor Flitwick, but I don’t know how to!” he says as Flitwick nods and takes out his wand to start the lesson.    “One should never use charms that they cannot correct!” he says as he climbs his stack of book and stands beside David. “Hold out your wand and shout passionately, revelio!” as he looks at David take stance and with his wand in hand; Flitwick shakes his head. “No, no, no…holding your wand like that is fancy, but not advised!” as David holds his wand with a death grip. “Let me see your wand!” he says as David passes his wand to the half-goblin half-human as his bushy white eyebrows rise. “What a unique wand! Lot of power!” he says as he picks up the wand and holds the wand at the end where the wand has a depression for secure holding against counter spells. “Like this!” he says as he hands the wand back to David and David holds the wand like Professor Flitwick held it and has the professor check his form. “Good…now swish and flick with the word, revelio!”    David swishes and flicks and says, “Revelio!” as the lectern begins to appear and then fades away.     “Hmm, that is one powerful charm you cast onto my lectern!” Flitwick says as he takes his wand and says, “Revelio!” and like before, the wand casts a white light and his lectern appears and then disappears. David takes his wand in hand and together they cast the revelio charm and this time the lectern appears and remains in form. “There we go!” he says as David walks over to the wooden stand and touches it and it is solid.    “That is a hard charm!” David remarks as the professor chuckles and agrees.    “Most second year students struggle with the charm…you seem to have a natural talent for charms Mr. Adriatian!” he says as David smiles and finally feels good about himself. “If I may ask, why did you not have lunch with your House?”    David walks to a seat and sits down near the center and sighs, “To be honest, I feel like I am wearing shores that are too tight!” David says as Professor Flitwick makes his wand at the ready.    “I can help with that!” he offers as David smiles and shakes his head.    “Nothing is wrong with my shoes Professor, it is a terrible saying apparently that muggles use I guess.” David states as Flitwick accepts that theory as he has little experience with muggles and prefers to simply avoid them. “Ever since I have come to Hogwarts, I feel as if I am constantly at odds with everyone! The Prefect even wonders why I was put in Ravenclaw and I think he has a point…with the trouble I cause, I should be in that snake house!”    Flitwick leans against the books as he has received reports about his student, David. He pockets his wand as he gives some advice. “Did you want to be put in Ravenclaw?” he asks as David nods.    “My mom was in Hufflepuff house and my biological parents…well I don’t know.” as David ponders if they were also in Hufflepuff or in Slytherin! “I did not want to be in Slytherin as I don’t like their message and Gryffindor house seems nice as I have a friend there, but I don’t think I am Gryffindor material. I considered Hufflepuff to please my mom…but the Sorting Hat says I will do wonderful things in Ravenclaw…has the Sorting Hat ever been incorrect?”    “The Sorting Hat is rarely wrong!” Flitwick says as he comes with an answer. “Just seeing your talent with a year 7 spell and mastering a year 3 spell…not to mention the Freezing Spell and Water Spell you used against Miss Kalama...those are both 3rd and 4th year spells!” Flitwick smiles as the door opens and closes, “I think you just need to keep surprising us Mr. Adriatian and be open about being a wizard and not a Muggle!” as the rest of the students flood into the room…this class is packed as the room is much smaller than the wide Transfiguration room.    Rowan finds David and rushes over to him and takes a seat, “David!” she says as she wants to comfort him, remembering how the Prefect treated him. “Are you alright…I told the Prefect to back off!” David grimmest as he is worried that will only make it worse.    “He was right Rowan…I cost Ravenclaw 50 points because…”    “Because standing and doing nothing is far worse?” Rowan says as Lily comes over to David and takes a seat as Hugo sits next to her. Lily looks at David, trying to catch his attention.    “I heard what your Prefect did,” she begins as David looks at her. “I spoke to Mrs. Weasley about it and she said she’ll talk to McGonagall.” Lily feels proud of her actions as Professor Flitwick comes down to the floor.

   “Welcome everyone to your first charms course, you’ll all find that charms greatly differ from Transfiguring spells, and does anyone know why?” Flitwick asks as David quickly raises his hand. “Ah, Mr. Adriatian.”    “Charms add individual effects to an object or creature whereas transfiguration changes the object into something different.” David says as people look back to Professor Flitwick smiles and puts his hands up in a celebratory fist.    “Well said Mr. Adriatian!” he states as David is patted on the back by Rowan for good work. “So what do you call a charm that lasts for hours, days or weeks?” he asks as David isn’t certain, but Rowan is as she raises her hand. “Ah yes, Miss Bagnold!”    “It is called Bewitch!” Rowan says as David writes this down as he did not know that as Flitwick nods and smiles.    “Well done Miss Bagnold…10 points to Ravenclaw for coming prepared!” he says as a few Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s don’t agree…Hufflepuff could care less as they are like David and feverishly writing notes. “Remember, this class will require you to come prepared and practice outside of the class…everything will determine on your technique…remember always, swish and flick! As you go through your schooling here at Hogwarts, your spells will grow with power and even aid you in daily tasks and defending yourself! Take the Fidelius charm for example, cast properly, you can completely hide a person or a place so no one can find them without the aid of the secret keeper. There are many spells you will learn in the 5 years here at Hogwart’s, and if you excel in your OWLS, you can practice on advance curses, jinxes and hexes.”    David sits there as the idea of learning curses, jinxes and hexes bothers him as he is afraid that he could use them…and before today, using a charm on another individual seemed like something he’d never do! David listens to Professor Flitwick talk about how to successfully cast a charm by concentration, precise wand movements and proper pronunciation of the incantation. “And what would happen if you say it incorrectly?” a Hufflepuff student asks as David looks to Professor Flitwick.    “If you fail to properly cast a spell, the spell can backfire on you.” Flitwick answers as Lily whispers a story to David about her uncle, Ron.    “One time my uncle tried to curse someone to eat slugs with a broken wand and he ended up puking slugs for over three hours!” Lily says as David cringes at the idea of throwing up slugs.    “Eww…why?” David asks as he wonders how many points her uncle lost for that.    “Defense of his friends!” she says as David glances at Lily and understands that he made the correct choice in the Fountain Courtyard.    “Your first charm you will learn is the Levitation Charm. It is the fundamental charm that all wizards and witches learn…to make objects fly and levitate! Now everyone, take out your wands…” as Flitwick and the rest of the class takes out their wands and look at him. “…and swish twice and flick with the words, wingardium leviosa!” he says as the students make an attempt with saying wingardium leviosa while swishing twice and flicking their wands. Flitwick passes out white egret feathers for them to practice. “Now concentrate on the feathers and cast your charm!” he says as he stands on the books as he looks at the class.    Rowan works swishing her wand and Hugo swishes his wand too and the wand flies out of his hand and nearly nails David in the head. He picks up Hugo’s wand and hands it back to Hugo. “I think you dropped this?” David says as Hugo blushes and takes back the wand.    “Sorry!” he says as he holds on tighter to his wand as he tries the charm one more time. “Wingardium leviosa!” as his wand control is a bit messy. Rowan and David take pity on him as Lily, help him on his form. With a few tries, his feather flutters and he smiles as David, Rowan and Lily return back to their own work. Rowan has beautiful form as she works on her concentration and the feather flutters and dances on the table.    For David, he has already did the levitation charm and he picks up his wand and says, “Wingardium leviosa!” as the feather lifts off the table and David uses his wand to put it up into the air. There he leaves the feather floating there as Flitwick looks at the feather floating in the air as he smiles and cheers.    “Well done! Look everyone, Mr. Adriatian has done it!” as Flitwick writes down ten points for Ravenclaw as Rowan and Lily looks at the feather floating there in the air and David loses concentration and the feather gently floats down to the table.    “How did you do it?” Rowan asks as she takes pride in her ability to conduct magic and being shown up by her friend makes her feel inadequate.    “I just concentrated on the feather and after saying the charm, imagined the feather was floating.” he says as Rowan tries this and soon her feather begins to lift slowly off the table and float before her eyes. “Help Hugo and I’ll help Lily…" David says as he turns to Lily as he tells her the same and after a few tries, she manages to get her feather to rise off the table.    With time, David opens his book to year one charms and sees that he will be required to know the following charms: Levitation Charm, Wand-Lighting Charm, Lumos Solem, Fire-Making Spell, Softening Charm, Severing Charm, Unlocking Charm, Locking Spell, Mending Charm, Dancing Feet Spell and the Knockback Jinx…    David flips to the next spell “Wand-Lighting Charm…” he reads as he wonders, “I wonder if this is the same as the lumos charm?” he reads a warning from author, Miranda Goshawk; ‘The Wand-Lighting Charm is simple, but requires concentration. Take care not to accidentally set your wand alight as damage of this kind can be permanent. If in any doubt about your abilities you would do better to buy yourself a magic lantern.’ He looks at his wand, he would be devastated to damage this precious piece of wood, it has been through a lot and he promised to take care of it. He thinks how many times he foolishly performed the charm without education and he could have set his wand and trailer on fire!    David continues to work on his charm casting as he seems to become fluid with the casting and it becomes easier to cast the charm. For about 30 minutes, the class seems to go by quickly as the bell rings to end the class as the first year students are to report to the grassy courtyard for flight as everyone files out as they have 30 minutes to prepare. Flitwick calls out. “Mr. Adriatian, please hold back for a moment.” he says as David looks at his friends and they go outside to wait for him. “I saw what you did Mr. Adriatian, with helping Miss Potter and Miss Bagnold…you have great leadership and skill in charms. For a moment, I thought you might be one of the great to come to Hogwarts…but now I am sure! Don’t overwhelm yourself with so many spells…pace yourself...enjoy the process. Magic isn't suppose to be work, it is suppose to be relaxing!”    “Thank you Professor Flitwick!” David says as he likes the feeling of being on task.    “If you ever need someone to talk to…you know where my office is!” Flitwick says as David nods and he smiles, “I better let you get going…Madam Hooch does not like tardy students!”    “Thank you sir!” David says as he turns and hurries to find Rowan, Lily and Hugo waiting for him as they hope that the conversation went well. “Ready to go?” David says as this next class has worried him since he learned he was signed up to do it.    “Ready!” Hugo says as Lily and Rowan smile and nods as they hurry down the center of the Fountain Courtyard to the gate and crosses under the inner wall between Dragon Science and Advance Arithmancy as they come into a shaded courtyard surrounded by high castle walls and towers. This is the first time David has visited this part of the castle and he looks around as the castle seems so massive in size! Passing through the outer castle gate, they enter the grassy field.    David, Hugo, Lily and Rowan have arrived early as the sun was warm and the air conformable as they sit down in the warm grass. Hugo laid down and closed his eyes as David and Rowan practiced on their charm as Lily watched. “Is it true,” begins Lily as she finally has time to talk with David without having to stay with her house “that you apparited before the train?”    “What does apparited mean?” David asks as he has heard this word, but still is unclear.    “It means to appear.” Rowan says as she uses her book to levitate. David nods as he still has a few bruises from that fall.    “Yeah, broke a few bones too!” he commented as Hugo remarks.    “That is so cool! You have to be the youngest to have ever apparited!” and Hugo was correct! The youngest to ever apparite was Mr. Harry Potter at the age of 13…David was 11.    “It hurt like hell!” David remarks as a woman with silver hair and jaundice eyes walks out onto the field in light black robes with a white trim. She wears brown gloves that look like she just got done horseback riding with a brook pendant necklace hanging on her chest.    “Hey you four, give me a hand?” Maddam Hooch says as she calls over to David, Hugo, Lily and Rowan to help her bring out the brooms. The two Gryffindor’s and two Ravenclaw’s come over to her side as she guides them to a wooden door “Alohomora” she says as the door unlocks and they look inside to see brooms and gear for Quidditich. “Grab three brooms and take them to the field.” she says as they all pick up 12 brooms together. “Thank you.” Madam Hooch says as she looks at them, “For your help, 5 points to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.” as they lay out the brooms with six on one side and six on the other side.

[fiinalgiirls-aa]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

FULL NAME - genevieve sloane channing NICKNAMES - neve GENDER / PRONOUNS - she/her DATE OF BIRTH - february 12, 1988 PLACE OF BIRTH - portland, oregon CITIZENSHIP / ETHNICITY - united states american; irish, scottish, welsh RELIGION - atheist / agnostic SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS / POLITICAL AFFILIATION - grew up very low socioeconomic status in ne portland, before the gentrification, but is now considered middle class due to her nurse’s salary. she’s liberal. MARITAL STATUS - single ( previously engaged ). SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION - bisexual, leaning more towards an attraction to men. EDUCATION / OCCUPATION - bachelor’s of science in nursing; emergency nurse LANGUAGES - english, spanish, and a few small phrases pertaining to medical emergencies in vietnamese and russian.

FAMILY INFORMATION.

PARENTS - doug and paula channing, both deceased. SIBLINGS - none OFFSPRING - none PETS / OTHER - robocop ( a black and white siberian husky ). i’d also like her to get a cat at some point ! give me this plot point !! NOTABLE EXTENDED FAMILY - none

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

FACECLAIM - adelaide kane HAIR COLOR / EYE COLOR - brown / brown HEIGHT / BUILD - 5′3″ / slight, athletic TATTOOS / PIERCINGS - nostril piercing, small tattoo on anterior right forearm. DISTINGUISHABLE FEATURES - a scar above her left ear that goes into her hairline approximately three inches, bold, full brows. freckles. usually has bruised knees.

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

MEDICAL HISTORY - laceration to left temporoparietal area, sprained ankle, fractured collar bone, well-controlled asthma. KNOWN ALLERGIES - penicillin, watermelon VISUAL IMPAIRMENT / HEARING IMPAIRMENT - nearsighted, but usually uses contacts; tinnitus. NICOTINE USE / DRUG USE / ALCOHOL USE - occasional alcohol use, former smoker ( has had an errant cigarette on occasion ), drug use as a teenager.

PERSONALITY.

TRAITS - ( + ) compassionate, resilient, tenacious, ; ( - ) self-righteous, cynical, aloof TROPES - nerves of steel, canine companion, good is not soft, deadpan snarker. TEMPERAMENT - melancholic ALIGNMENT - chaotic good CELTIC TREE ZODIAC - rowan, the thinker MBTI - infj HOGWARTS HOUSE - ravenclaw VICE / VIRTUE - pride ; liberality LIKES / DISLIKES: animals, reading, running and weight lifting, not having to share her popcorn, take-out, breakfast for dinner, leather / denim jackets, white sneakers, fresh cut flowers, solitude, people who think about others,  /  medical dramas, arrogance, science deniers, bok choy, people who talk to her at the gym or when she has headphones on, movie remakes, passive aggression. QUOTE:  ❝take a body, dump it, drive. take a body, maybe your own, and dump it gently. all your dead, unfinished selves and dump them gently. take only what you need. ❞

FAVORITES.

FOOD - curry. DRINK - coffee. PIZZA TOPPING - pineapple ( yes, she’s that bitch ), but with olives, mushrooms, tomatoes, and tabasco. COLOR - earth tones, grey, black and white. MUSIC - synth, hip hop, indie. BOOKS - horror, true crime, historical philosophy of science and medicine. MOVIES - the thing, nightbreed, notorious CURSE WORD - fuck, goddamn it. SCENTS - lavender, vanilla, chocolate.

BIOGRAPHY.

trigger warnings: murder, death, graphic violence, mental health, postpartum depression, suicide, cancer, drug mention, parent death, medical, euthanasia mention, stalking, guns

THE FOG CREEPS IN ; GIRLHOOD IS A GRAVEYARD

genevieve channing is born on a cold, grey february sometime around midnight to douglas and paula channing while the heavy oregon fog kisses the modest concrete jungle of portland oregon like a phantom. paula gives her a big name, telling the nurses with heady confidence that she’ll be famous one day, and it’s the biggest gift she ever gives her. baby genevieve is in her arms so often, she hardly touches a cradle, but it’s not long until douglas feels an uneasiness creeping in.

paula is bohemian silk skirts and crushed velvet. she grows restless being trapped in the plain, modest home in northeast. she is a woman that is easy to fall in love with—not meant to sit at home idly with a collicy baby, where she finds herself in tears more than ever. douglas returns from work to find baby genevieve screaming unattended in her crib while paula cries in the backyard with an ashtray full of cigarettes. she tells him she’s worried she’ll crash the car one day on the way to the grocery store with them both inside. douglas digs his teeth into his bottom lip and tries not to cry. he squeezes her hand and tells her she needs to go to therapy. what he really wants to tell her is that their baby needs her. he leaves paula outside and spends the afternoon tidying the house with genevieve swaddled against his chest. it’s a warm feeling.

it’s not long after that paula starts disappearing for periods of time and douglas learns she can’t be trusted to watch after the baby on her own. when she calls from downtown in tears, hyperverbal and desperate, he picks her up in his old chevy truck and brings her home. she agrees to see a doctor and for awhile, they figure out how to live again. some days are even as sweet as the rhubarb pies she starts to make again.

there are only two ways neve later remembers her mother, and the first is lovely–paula is picnics and shakespeare in the parks. she’s dried roses in the window and salmon tacos with mango salsa. she is whirlwind adventures and laughter. she teaches neve to make wishes on stray eyelashes, blowing them into the wind like dandelion seeds. on the good days, paula’s eyes are filled with stars. on the bad days, they are left black as the night sky while she cries the constellations down her cheeks. occasionally, she is cruel. mostly, she is absent.

by the third grade, neve expects this. douglas has never been much of a cook–save hamburger patties with canned green beans and a baked potato. she cooks their dinners from recipes she learns from her grandmas and helps around the house. most nights she’s home alone until the grumbling sound of the chevy breaks through the dark and signals her father’s return. eventually, she stops missing her mother from the everyday–it’s only when the other kids talk about their moms that she feels the pang of loss and wonders where she is. some nights neve finds herself sitting in her bedroom window pulling out eyelashes just to have something left to wish on. some of paula’s friends overdose on heroin or get murdered in the nights when neve is sleeping; she stays up late and hopes that her vigil will keep a distant mother safe.

there aren’t many trees on their street–unlike some of the other neighborhoods. the big weeping birch in their backyard that drives her father crazy as he rakes leaves every fall is neve’s pride and joy. there is comfort in the shade its branches cast every summer. at night it makes her lonely as it blocks the silhouette of the waxing moon. on lazy summer days when her father leaves for work, neve sits with her back curved against its rough trunk and reads the day away.

on a cool april afternoon, just after preparing a plate of cherry poptarts with a thin layer of butter on top of the frosting ( much to her father’s chagrin ), neve ventures out to the modest yard to sit under her tree. the familiar crushed blue velvet of her mother’s favorite dress catches her off guard and she drops her breakfast onto the unkempt lawn as her mind makes sense of the unnatural height of its hem as paula swings–marking the time of neve’s pounding heartbeat. the butter solidifies as it cools in the dirt, the heel of neve’s hand-me-down airwalk sneakers mashing her breakfast. the cherry filling sticks to the sole like bubblegum; she’ll never eat them again, but she can’t help but recall that her mom always preferred the maple and brown sugar.

THE ODDS ARE STACKED AGAINST HER ; A GIRL LEARNS TO COUNT CARDS

portland in the eighties and nineties is less portlandia and more drugstore cowboy. a lot of kids from other neighborhoods don’t go downtown. the ones that do have an air of palpable grit. neve takes the max, rides her skateboard in the dark. douglas has cautioned her a hundred thousand times, but paula’s death has instilled such a great fear of losing his daughter that he lets her get away with more than he knows he probably should. he fears paula’s ghost will someday possess her and she’ll wander off into the ether. most days he insists that the only parts of paula he sees in his cherished daughter are the good ones–neve holds onto the corporeal world with claws. it’s only on the worst nights–paula’s specter cooling the sheets of his bed in the dark–that he wakes up with the fear his daughter is gone.

douglas’s new wife, rosie, does her best to pit them against one another, but sometimes–she’s not so bad, neve thinks. it’s nice to have a mother figure in the house again even if she falls short most days. sometimes she thinks that maybe they could learn to love each other. if nothing else, she’s sure she owes a bit of gratitude to the woman; the nights of her father’s haunting sobs have become fewer and farther between. it isn’t until douglas begins receiving late notices on utilities that he begins to grow suspicious. rosie is quick to throw neve under the bus–a young girl like that? she’s probably stealing their money to spend on drugs and CDs at sam goody. douglas has never bet on anyone like he bets on his daughter; rosie’s gambling debts are news to them both.

the fallout of the relationship leaves douglas and neve in dire financial straits. the father is heartbroken–another love lost, he blames himself for always choosing the wrong lady luck. despite their financial ruin, left in rosie’s wake, douglas has a hard time getting out of bed most days and blows through what little sick time he has available to him. school takes a back burner and neve barely attends it at all–favoring her time on finding work ( legitimate and illegitimate ) to help keep their small family afloat. she attends class when it’s profitable and waits tables or washes dishes when she can. it’s still not enough.

a few kids turn neve onto small crimes to turn a profit. they ride the max to the suburbs and crash parties–stealing pills out of medicine cabinets and turning them over for profit. calculus wasn’t worth a good goddamn, but distribution teaches skills. it’s hard not to get caught up in petty thefts and the occasional break-ins. neve and her friends find it easy to justify in the spirit of class war. a pin on her denim jacket reads ‘eat the rich’ and it doesn’t sound so bad. portland is a cannibal and it eats its children.

neve is a cat with nine lives and despite her friends being caught by the long arm of the law or the stronger arm of revenge, she evades detection. even such cats live with a fear of death, and as consequence catches up to members of the small circle she runs with, neve knows she is living on borrowed time. sooner or later, she knows, her luck will run bone dry.

SPRING RETURNS TO PORTLAND ; THE FROST CLINGS TO FRAGILE BONES

neve dropping out of high school is a wake up call for douglas. he sees farther than she does and knows that she deserves a better life than the one he’s scrounged together for her. most days, he blames himself for a life that could have been; some kids like her wore neatly pressed dresses and folded over lace socks on picture day. some kids had piano lessons and summer camps. there’s a lot of insight in hindsight, but neve staunchly opposes his masochistic remorse and becomes determined to prove him wrong. it takes her a couple years of working to figure out what she wants to do–a girl baptised in her mother’s blood is born with the kind of heart that takes on too much. she is meant for saving lives and carrying the world on her shoulders like atlas himself.

it takes time, but as douglas gets their house in order and starts working again. neve is able to start up at portland community college. she takes up a work study job and works a steady flow of odd jobs on the side to support herself. lady luck shines her fortune on the pair for the first time in forever to make up for the steady losses they’ve sustained over the years. life isn’t lavender and gardenias, but somehow waking up becomes little and less painful each day. some days neve wakes up and forgets that she can’t breathe. most days she spends her gratitude in the heap of debt the world owes her–waiting for the other shoe to drop.

the rebirth of their family is a hearty soil; both channings flourish as if made anew. the dew drops that cling to garden spider webs in their window signal the looming anniversary of a mother’s misty breath and neve learns not to fall apart. douglas works hard to do right by her and make up for the years of never knowing what to do and waffling between what is best and what is desirable. he is a man that longs for dreams–feet barely brushing the earth like her mother’s did on that day–but he is learning to make dreams work too. his dreams take root around his daughter once more; he builds them around her and builds her up with them.

the highschool dropout graduates her community college adn bridge program and she can hardly believe it when she’s accepted to ohsu for her bsn. there are no college diplomas with the channing name hanging on walls with peeling wallpaper or tucked away in trunks with paula’s things. douglas has saved his money for months to get her the right graduation gift and neve laughs, downplaying that it’s not a real graduation, but still walks in the ceremony at his insistence.

she returns home to the small party of friends she’ll start to grow apart from when she gets tired of the jeers about how she thinks she’s ‘too good for them’ now. neighborhoods like hers don’t always love to watch you grow if it means you’ll leave them. they’ll still blow up her phone for medical advice, but the invitations dry up like the drought of portland natives in southeast. for now, it’s a pleasant barbecue. the highlight of the evening comes in the small bundle of inky fur that douglas proudly produces after neve’s second burger. peering out from his strong arms are the brown eyes of a young siberian husky. douglas begs her to name the pup murphy over robocop, but loses easily–a hearty chuckle on his lips. they are bonded instantly–girl and dog–robocop becomes neve’s second most stalwart companion next to her father.

nursing school is hard, but it’s not impossible and it is full of new kinds of joys. she makes new friends and they eat lunch from the thai foodcart—nestled within the pod of south waterfront—and lay on the quad drinking smoothies and complaining about the next pharmacology exam. nose in a book and a drink in her hand at happy hour down at cha cha cha !, neve attracts the attention of pa student shane stone. he knows a nursing school classmate of hers from high school and is quickly incorporated to their study groups with a couple of his friends. he is tall with dark hair and kind eyes and just the sort of person a girl dreams of falling in love with. he spends little time worrying about things like rent and bus passes. it’s not even the end of the semester before study dates evolve into movie dates. there’s an entire world between them, but somehow the pair build a bridge.

DEATH RATTLES AND DYING BREATH ; THE GIRL’S OTHER SHOE DROPS

as neve focuses on school, douglas seems to be making steps to keep himself around longer. they go for long walks with robocop around the neighborhood. southeast portland is becoming a different neighborhood and the cost of living is high. restaurants crop up with around the block waits and family friends are forced to move to grayer pastures. it seems, to the channings, that it’s the end of an era. with neve spending most of her time at shane’s apartment on south waterfront, douglas’ weight loss is hardly noticed–everyone assumes it is merely the byproduct of increased activity. it isn’t until his stature becomes gaunt that neve starts to worry.

shane holds neve close when she finally breaks down–sneaking into the single bathroom of the clinic to let her fall apart the way he knows she can’t do in the open. like a wild animal, the girl he loves hides herself away when she feels death’s acrid breath on her neck. he doesn’t know what loss is and he certainly can’t relate to what she’s been through. douglas’ diagnosis is like watching the noose tighten around her mother’s neck all over again. her throat is dry like she’s choking on the fibers of that same rope; the world has a foggy edge—hollow like street lights illuminating an empty suburban neighborhood on a clear, dark night. everything is wooden; everything feels like a dollhouse.

it’s hard to keep up on her studies, but somehow neve muscles through. shane gives up his idyllic apartment and moves into their modest southeast home to help out. he makes a lighthearted joke about finally being a real portlander and moving so near the trendy, revitalized mississippi neighborhood and neve drops and breaks her coffee mug on the unfinished wood floor of the kitchen. it’s just another reminder that he doesn’t belong in her world any more than she does in his. it doesn’t sting as bad as the ink on his mother’s checks that she cashes to keep her father comfortable on his deathbed while she learns to be a better caretaker. life ebbs and flows, but douglas’ drains away until she hardly recognizes the sinewy, pale hands that hold hers so strongly for a man that can’t sit up by himself any longer. she curses her mother once more for leaving and twice for never having been there in the first place.

death isn’t slow or peaceful like the woman from her father’s church will lie about at the funeral. his death rattle lasts for hours and the bellows of his chest quake with weary breath. part of her wishes that the hospice nurse had started an iv on him and a sick, hidden part of her wishes it because a sweet dose of morphine would’ve ended it all sooner for him. she wonders silently if that would do more to ease his pain or hers? he hasn’t been conscious in two days. shane sits with her at the side of his bed with rapt attention and as his breathing slows, neve crawls into the hospice bed next to him. the next several months are a blur and a father misses his only daughter’s graduation. neve is barely present there herself.

shane insists that she’s not an orphan–his parents fly in from denver and treat her like one of their own. it guilts her that she can’t help but resent them for the simple virtue of living while her own father is reduced to a cold dust. she wears his ashes around her neck in a pendant from the funeral home and spreads the rest in every beautiful place she can find. some of them spill into her purse during a hike with robo and shane and she breaks down in tears. there are so many small things that make her sick or numb. a multitude of tiny memories that weigh as much as planets; isn’t dust what helped create the milky way? even around the stone family she feels alone. maybe especially around the stones.

HACKLES RAISED, A GIRL LEARNS THE DANGERS OF BEING FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

the emergency department attracts all kinds of people in myriad dire straits. people come in at the end of their ropes–infections ignored too long, stabbings and shootings, a broken bone from slipping off the slide, and sometimes when they feel like they can’t live any longer. evan does not fit into any of these categories when he comes in. among the myriad failings of the medical system, lack of access and use of primary care is one of the larger contributions to higher emergency department volumes and evan is another data point in a sea of statistics. he comes back to neve’s room with a sly grin plastered on his face and states that he’s new to the area and can’t get into a new primary care for a few months. his daily asthma inhaler is out and he needs to renew the prescription and get a referral to a clinic.

there’s nothing on the surface that identifies this man as a threat. he’s almost charming and he’s nontoxic appearing–a nice easy patient in a sea of sick people is sometimes a great relief. they make some small talk and it’s the usual stuff she chats about with patients: ‘where’re you from?’ ‘where did you go to school?’ he expresses an interest in nursing and she recommends the program she attended at the hospital she now works. there’s almost a tension there, and when he makes a casual comment about the tan line on her finger she tells him that she doesn’t wear her engagement ring at work because it can tear the gloves. that’s only half right. maybe he can sense the rest of the truth; she’ll wonder that later when she pieces together every scrap of something she can use to blame it on herself.

he sends her a message on facebook, which makes her lips curl downwards in uncertainty. even that isn’t entirely alarming. it opens up reminding her that he’s knew to the area, and that he’s interested in the nursing program she went to. it’s a surprise, but he makes mention of a girlfriend’s wifi and he even asks how shane is doing. he loves her dog and mentions wanting one himself. sure, it’s a little weird–unconventional–but neve has always been interested in helping others find nursing and agrees to meet him for coffee to discuss the program. when they meet, she sees the mistake inherit in it before she even opens the cafe door. he’s disheveled and hyperverbal when he speaks to her and she can barely get a word in edge wise. between the gift he’s brought her and the intensity of his stare, she wonders how she could have read him so wrong. it’s then that he drops the bomb that makes her stomach sink into the trench it detonates in–will they take him in the nursing program with a record? she doesn’t ask, but he provides the details anyway. death threats to some girl he barely knew that wouldn’t leave him alone, he paints the canvas well, but she can read between the lines. evan stevens is dangerous and his lethal eye is trained on her.

she makes an excuse to leave–the first of many excuses, the illusion of being unavailable, unattainable. it’s the advice she’s given to women before, but never had to follow. those words offered to women in distress seem so trite now, so hollow. there is so much fear in cutting ties slowly–the strategic approach to keep an impulsive person like that from escalating. she wishes she could take those clinical offerings of textbook wisdom back from those women and hold their hands. she wonders how many of them still live. he starts blowing up her phone constantly. he comments on all her social media. all day and all night. if she doesn’t respond, he threatens suicide. some days he asks if she’s working and says he brought her lunch. if she says she’s sick, he asks for her address to bring her tom yum takeout from the restaurant she’s posted about on instagram. everything makes her sick now.

A FINAL GIRL IS FORGED ALONE ; THERE IS NO SUBVERTING FATE

god, it’s hard to speak about. she can’t even let the words reach her tongue, lips and teeth to birth them. they shrivel and die in her throat, festering there until she swallows them and they rest in her stomach like great stones. she wonders if evan will cut her stomach open like a wolf and find the rocks there. that’s not how the story goes; she tells herself so many versions as she lies awake in the dark afraid to sleep.

when she finally tells her friends–a smattering of girls and guys from nursing school, the er, and her neighborhood–the response is like the knife she dreams about in her gut. she shows some of the girls at her work his picture, worried that he’ll come in asking about her. she’s chided by these friends, “he’s actually pretty cute, florence nightingale” they joke. “it must be flattering to have the attention.” even shane suspected that there’s some indulgence on her part. that maybe she likes trying to fix people who are broken so much that she gets some sick reward from the experience. he doesn’t speak the words, but neve is fluent in shane stone. he says it in his eyes, the downcurve of his lips, the tense way he sighs when her phone dings over and over again during date nights.

on a cold night in december, neve works on meal prepping alone in the kitchen. evan has been out of town helping his mother remodel her kitchen and neve feels like she can finally breathe in the space he’s left behind. turning on the wireless speaker, she tries to pair her phone to play music as loud as the thin walls of her father’s modest northeast portland home will allow and instead hears, in the cold, robotic voice ‘pairing with neve’s iphone and evan’s iphone.’ robocop doesn’t even lift his head in suspicion the whole night. she calls 911, but they find neither hide nor hair of him. in the morning, neve nails the windows shut and buys a gun–a smith & wesson .357 snub nose revolver. the weight of it is heavy in her hands and she buys a membership to a gun range, calling into work and practicing until shane returns. she doesn’t tell him about the gun and she stops telling him how bad things have gotten with evan. the click of his tongue and disapproval in his eyes is more dooming than a death sentence and she can’t bear to bring further disappointment. neve channing is a strong woman–a smart woman. things like this don’t happen to women like her.

somehow, evan is everywhere and he knows all her secret places as if he exists as an extension of her. maybe he even believes he is–sending her voice messages about how they’re connected. they are the same; they are foils of one another. he send her a picture of his ouroboros tattoo from a new number after she finally blocks him. ‘we are the same.’ he is an all-consuming, devouring force, but she is not a serpent’s tail. he is moloch–besmeared with blood, the great, horrid king–but she is not a child and she will not be sacrificed for sins she has not committed. he has not right and there’s only one way she can see this ending as the days grow longer. like life itself begins, this too will end in blood.

LOVE IS A HARD KNIFE ; A GIRL CAN’T STOMACH AMBROSIA

there is a consequence to every action and every inaction. every little thing she chooses not to tell shane fester and boils. the late nights at work and the new passcode on her phone seem more to shane like cheating than a worsening of some creep’s obsession. she hasn’t even mentioned evan to him since the trees started blooming again. when he elects to cheer her up and bring her lunch during a shift she traded so she could practice at the gun range, his suspicions deepen and while she sleeps that morning, he rifles through her work bag and finds alongside her locked cell phone the cold steel of a secret that he cannot abide by.

it’s not his fault either and she means that from the bottom of her heart. every kindness from the stones feels like another debt and neve can’t help but let the resentment fester in the tasteful diamond on her finger. when she looks upon his face now all she can see is death and it’s the world’s cruelest joke, because she’s the one with cemetery dirt underneath her fingernails. she can’t tell which of the two of them she resents more and they both deserve lives where ghosts stay buried and the dead don’t whisper malcontent in her ears while she struggles to fall asleep. nightmares are her own warm milk; she’s sick of the cold metal of a gun as she moves it from her night stand to her purse each morning. she’s tired of being made to feel like she had a stake in any of this.

it’s not the kindest way to leave a man, but she’s not sure she’s ready to face him again after all that’s happened. she leaves her house keys with her cousin paloma and packs up shane’s stuff. paloma has just started nursing school and can use neve’s father’s old house to sublet. the rent’s free and she’s always been gentle hearted. neve can’t think of anyone better to care for her father’s old house. with dear john letters to both shane and the hospital, neve takes robocop and enough of her things to fit into her subaru forester. it’s not goodbye. it’s never goodbye, she thinks as she hugs paloma on the modest porch. it still feels so permanent, but neve tells herself that big decisions always do. she yearns to discover who she is outside of grief and fear and love. a daughter cannot bloom in her parents’ shadows and she is suffocating underneath the gentle love of the mourning glory.

on the road without a real plan–because if she doesn’t know where she’s going, then neither does evan–neve signs on for a travel nursing company. the first assignment she considers is salem hospital an hour south and it’s a great department, but it’s too close to home. he’ll find her there easily. st. charles in bend isn’t far enough away either. it doesn’t feel like enough of a difference and none of them do until she’s cruising down the interstate through blythe, california and she sees a listing for a level one trauma center in tuscon, arizona. it feels like it could be the right place to burn and be born again.

A GIRL AND HER DOG; SOMETIMES PEACE IS ITS OWN KIND OF PRISON

the cool steel of the snub nose .357 revolver lies buried beneath her registration and owner’s manual in the glove compartment. she wonders briefly as she pulls out her sunglasses and slips a salty french fry into her mouth. the car stereo fades in and out along the southbound highway, switching between some smooth-talking radio host and the tinny crooning of buddy holly. it makes her think of her father, and she blinks back tears–plugging in her iphone to switch to a tune that doesn’t bring back such painful memories. robocop whines in the backseat and neve discovers that her maps aren’t loading any longer, the gps unable to locate their vehicle.

there’s no sense in pulling over and pulling out the map of arizona she purchased from a disinterested teen in the first gas station she’d come across in the state. there’s only two days before the job starts and, according to her recruiter, they’d already moved the orientation up a day, cutting her time to adjust to her new ( temporary ) place before work in half. taking a long drink of coffee–now as cold as her french fries–she blinks hard to keep awake and just when she thinks she’ll have to pull over and sleep in her car huddled close to robocop’s warm, furry body.

neve passes a hospital on the outskirts of town–lit up all pretty against the dark desert sky. it looks nice enough and the longer she drives, the more she considers that her recruiter might’ve told her they were full up in tuscon. maybe that was why they moved the date up for orientation afterall. in the dark august night, most of the businesses are closed and the lights in the mobile home park neve passes are off. the first place she sees open is bj’s food mart and she stops to get a fresh cup of coffee and stretch her legs. she learns inside that amen county is always hiring and leaves with a smile on her lips.

neve has spent nine peaceful months in boot hill. the gun no longer lives shoved into the bottom of her work bag or nestled into the glove compartment of her subaru. now it spends its days in solitude in the coffin-like drawer of her bedside table. evan will never find this place, she is almost sure of it. he might be looking for her, but he’s not looking for boot hill. some evenings on her long strolls to work, she smiles and closes her eyes–listening to the soothing sounds of the town.

soon enough, neve is sure there really was no travel assignment to reach. or, if there had been, she can’t remember where it’s at. instead, she takes some time to enjoy the small town and the anonymity she feels there. she’s not even living out of the silk bonnet hotel anymore. she hadn’t seen boot hill on any map during her road trip and, if that’s universal, her past can’t find her without a destination to set its sights on. there is more than great comfort in that. by the end of her first month, she can’t imagine living anywhere else.

the emergency department is not the bustling trauma center she was used to, but there is an appeal to the autonomy rural medicine offers an experienced nurse. hell, in some places the doctors only come in if you call them. neve can’t exactly remember the application and interview process anymore. it seems like there are so many things that have become mysteries and she can’t find herself caring enough to investigate them long enough to follow an actual lead. it seems like she’s always worked there–an instantaneous sensation of home. she couldn’t even leave if she wanted to.

[meggonagall]

Saving Severus Snape - Chapter 19

22nd November 1976 After Severus kissed her, he had not attempted to do so again, apparently still fulfilling Hermione’s wishes of taking things slowly. Although, she was a touch miffed that he hadn't tried again. Even so, they had been behaving more couple-like since then. They now were openly holding hands while walking through the corridors, and he had even taken to waiting at the bottom of the stairs of Ravenclaw tower for her in the mornings. Rumors circulated around the school regarding their status, but no one had the nerve to flat out ask either one of them about it, which was just as well to each of them. After nearly two weeks, it all died down anyhow, and now it seemed most people didn't even bat an eyelash at the pair of them together. Monday morning Hermione had some unexpected free time, due to McGonagall falling ill and cancelling their Transfiguration lesson. With her cloak buttoned to her chin, and her hood up over her head, she quickly rushed across the school grounds, towards the Forbidden Forest. There was something she hoped to retrieve that she needed for her antivenin, and although she probably could have found it in the Potion’s classroom, she knew that it was stronger if fresh. The skin surrounding her nose and eyes stung from the cold, and the smalls strands of hair that escaped from her hood grew damp, due to the mist that settled in the air. Her pace increased, and her breath clouded out in front of her while she jogged towards the trees behind Hagrid’s hut.

When she finally arrived to the edge of the forest, she glanced back over her shoulder, making sure that she wouldn't have been caught, since the forest was forbidden to all students. The lights were out at Hagrid’s, and the chimney was devoid of any smoke, so she assumed that he had already been inside the castle. The coast was clear. As Hermione stepped through the trees, she was forced to light her wand out in front of her, since the lack of sunlight made it appear as if it were nearly nightfall. A silver sphere of light formed around her, giving her about a three foot bubble of visibility. The sounds of branches cracking, and the soft twittering of birds in the distance, along with more sinister, unnatural noises that she knew were unique to the forest filled her ears. A chill ran through her, which had nothing to do with the temperature outside. With purpose, Hermione crunched her way through the trees and towards her destination. The further she travelled, the quieter it became, until the only sounds were her labored breathing and the crackling from the leaves that blanketed the forest floor. After five more minutes of walking, Hermione stepped through a thicket of shrubbery and found herself in a perfectly circular clearing, with thankfully, a touch more light than before. It was the unicorn clearing that she had been taken to by Professor Grubbly Plank during Hagrid’s absence her fifth year. Lowering her wand towards the ground, Hermione walked slowly, as she kicked aside wet leaves and debris, hoping she would find was she was looking for. Nearly ten minutes later she'd almost given up hope, until a glint of silver caught her eye roughly seven paces ahead of her. She felt her heart jump as she rushed over and picked the item off of the ground. Triumph washed over her as she held the unicorn’s horn in her hand. Upon noticing the thin coating of fuzz that covered it, she nearly cried out loud with joy. It was rare indeed to find the horn from a unicorn foal, but if a person were to become lucky enough to possess one, the healing properties were much stronger coming from an animal as pure and innocent as a young one. It must had just fallen from the foal, she noted, as she turned it around in her hands to examine it. The fact that it still emitted a faint iridescent glow, and was not as opaque as the ones easily purchased from a shop told her as much. She had to get back to the school and crush it as quickly as possible. Nothing else would be as potent. Hermione raised her wand, and conjured a handkerchief that she wrapped the small horn in, then carefully placed into the pocket of her robes. The adrenaline flowed through her veins as she realized she gained a monumental step forward in the hopes of brewing a strong enough potion to keep Severus alive. When she returned back inside the castle, she nearly crashed right into Amelia, as she headed towards Ravenclaw tower to collect her school things for her Arithmancy class. “Merlin’s socks, Hermione!” Amelia exclaimed. “What the hell were you doing outside? It's absolutely miserable out there.” Hermione paused for a moment as she lowered her hood and got her bearings. “I just needed some fresh air,” she lied, breathing heavily. Amelia narrowed her eyes, clearly looking as if she hadn't believed her. “Right. Well never mind that. Snape was looking for you,” she told her. Her stomach dropped. She'd completely forgotten to let him know she wouldn't have been at breakfast that morning. “Damn. Well, it's fine. I'll see him in class in a few moments anyhow.” Hermione started walking again, Amelia alongside her. “So are you finally going to tell me what's really going on between you two?” Amelia asked. She took a look at her friend from the side of her eye and let out a loud breath. “To be honest, I don't even know how to describe it,” she admitted. “I should have told you earlier, but I didn't know how you'd react.” “Tell me what?” Hermione stopped walking and turned to look Amelia full on. Amelia’s eyes burned with curiosity while she waited for Hermione to continue. “He -- erm…we kissed,” she mumbled. A smile slowly formed across Amelia’s lips, while Hermione mentally braced herself, anticipating her friend to disapprove. “That's, great Hermione!” Amelia said, completely surprising her. Her brow furrowed. “But I thought -- I mean -- you don't like him?” Hermione stammered. Amelia snorted as the two girls began to walk again. “It's not that I don't like him, Hermione. I hardly know him. I just don't like some of the things I've heard that he's done.” Hermione opened her mouth to defend Severus, but Amelia stopped her. “Hey, I trust your judgement, and if you like him, then he must not be that bad.” She smirked. The corners of Hermione’s mouth twitched. “No, he's not,” she said. Taking Hermione’s admission as an invitation to speak about boys and relationships, Amelia told Hermione that Remus had finally asked her to be his girlfriend that morning. Hermione was genuinely happy for the both of them, knowing from the short time she had been friends with them both, that it was long overdue. Their conversation hadn't lasted long, since Amelia had to rush to the opposite side of the castle so she wouldn't be late to her Muggle Studies lesson. The girls parted ways near the Ravenclaw Common room, and Hermione rushed up the stairs and to her dormitory. Once inside, she quickly summoned her pestle and mortar, then took the unicorn horn from her cloak. As she crushed it into a fine multicolored powder, she realized she was running late for class. Severus would be sure to worry about her, since she'd been missing all morning, but she would make up some excuse about not feeling well, or something of that nature. She'd already taken these classes before, so it wasn't as if they were vitally important to her education. Once the horn was crushed completely, she conjured a glass vial, and carefully poured the contents of the mortar inside. Once the stopper was in place, she cast a stasis charm on the powder, to make sure it remained as fresh as possible, wrapped the vial in the handkerchief the horn had previously been in, and placed it in the bottom of her school trunk. By the time she had finished, changed and gathered her belongings, she was nearly half an hour late for class. Figuring it would be pointless showing up when the lesson was nearly finished, she instead took a slow walk to the library, hoping to take advantage of its emptiness while most of the other students were attending their classes. Knowing that griffin claws were used in Strengthening Solutions, she wanted to research more into them and their uses, to see if using one would prove beneficial. And to see if there would be any negative reactions with the other ingredients she had already been collecting and planning to mix. *** 25th November 1976 “Damn! Damn, damn, damn! I'm never going to get this right!” Hermione cried out while siphoning off the sludge from the burnt potion, that exploded out of the cauldron, and landed all over herself and half of the Potion’s classroom. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until an impulsive decision to add a few drops of Dragon’s Blood into her concoction struck her. The moment the third drop fell into the mixture, the whole thing went up in flames, bubbled and erupted from the cauldron like a volcano. Apart from some singed hair, and a few holes in her robes, she luckily was not physically harmed. Mentally though, that was an entirely different story. Once everything was cleared up, tears of frustration filled up her eyes, and before she could stop them, they brimmed over and flowed down her cheeks. She'd thought she'd worked it out, but again was left with no results. Every night she'd been working on her antivenin, and every night she was becoming more and more discouraged. She just had to get this right. It wasn't long before her frustration turned into bereavement, when she thought of the ramifications of her not succeeding. Images of an adult Severus, bleeding from multiple puncture wounds, while gargling his words flooded her mind. She'd almost collapsed from the weight of her anguish in reliving that moment. Hermione’s head whipped up when she felt an arm come around her shoulders. She quickly wiped her face and turned to look to see who it was, even though she'd already known. Severus looked at her with a V formed between his eyebrows as he reached towards her and wiped a stray tear from her eye. “What happened?” he asked. Seeing him there, young, whole and alive, after the images she'd just seen behind her closed eyes was too much for her to take in at that moment. Her whole frame vibrated as fresh sobs rocked her body. Severus hesitated briefly, before wrapping both arms around her. “Shh. It's alright,” he tried to sooth her, while stroking her hair as she cried into his shoulder. “It -- b-blew up!” Hermione hiccoughed into his robes. She knew she must have looked completely silly, sobbing over her failed attempt, since Severus wouldn't have realized how important it was for her to succeed. To him, this was just something she was working on for her education, not a matter of life and death as it truly was. Hermione cried and cried for nearly twenty minutes; Severus held her the entire time. It was the first time in months that Hermione finally let out all of the fear, uncertainty, stress and sadness she'd felt for over a year. The first time she'd truly fallen apart since she and Harry were alone hunting Horcruxes together. Each time she'd thought she was finished, another image from the Battle, or the months on the run, or when she was being tortured at Malfoy Manor would pop into her head. Everything had finally all come crashing down, just because of another setback. She knew she couldn't give up, but the more she fell apart, the better it strangely made her feel. Finally she'd begun to pull herself together and lifted her head from his shoulder. His arms were still around her; she made no attempt to move from him. “I'm s-sorry,” she whispered with a small sniffle. Severus' eyes were wide, filled with alarm. “Hermione, what happened? I've -- I’ve never seen you like that before,” he said, sounding a touch frightened by her outburst. She felt herself blush and glanced down at his green and silver tie. “I don't know what that was,” she lied. “I guess when the potion exploded, all the stress from exams and working on this every night, and everything just got to me. That won't happen again.” Again, Severus’ fingers methodically combed through her hair. “Merlin, from the way you were crying, I’d thought someone died,” he said softly. Hermione froze. He actually wasn't too far off the mark there. Slowly she looked up from his tie and once again saw the concern for her burning in his eyes. She wasn't sure why she'd done what she did next. Perhaps she was looking for a way to take her mind off of things, or maybe she was looking for a way to distract him and keep him from asking more questions. Or maybe, when she took his face between her hands and felt the warmth of his skin, she was searching for undeniable proof that he was alive and with her. Slowly, she leaned forward and gently kissed him. His lips were warm and soft, and she could taste the salt from her tears that had fallen down her face and onto both their lips. His arms tightened around her. She could feel the smile that formed on his face right before she pulled away. “Thank you,” she said. His cheeks were flushed as he let out a low chuckle. “For what?” he asked, sounding as winded as if he'd just run the length of a Quidditch pitch. “For being here,” she told him. As his black eyes softened, and before Severus could respond, both Hermione and he jumped apart when someone cleared their throat behind them. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. “Now as happy as I might be to see my two top students so enamoured with one another, this wasn't what I had in mind when I agreed to allow you both access to my classroom after hours,” Professor Slughorn mildly scolded them. Hermione’s face was on fire as she looked up at her professor, who was shaking his head; his shoulders bouncing with silent laughter. “We’re sorry, Professor,” Severus said quietly, Hermione nodded beside him. Slughorn let out a loud laugh. “Oh to be young and in love,” said he in a dreamy voice. Hermione wanted to crawl in a hole when he'd said the words in love. She was quite sure she'd never been so mortified in her life. “You may find it difficult to believe, but I do remember what it was like to be your age,” Slughorn continued. Every part of Hermione wished he would stop. “But as your teacher, I do have to insist that this does not happen again.” “Yes, sir,” Hermione and Severus both mumbled together. Perhaps the evening would all prove to have been a nightmare, Hermione pleaded in her head. Without embarrassing them any further, Slughorn suggested that they'd both call it a night, and dismissed them from his classroom. Hermione had been more than happy to leave, and nearly sprinted out of the door. “Well that was…” Severus trailed off, as he walked her to Ravenclaw. “The most embarrassed I'd ever been in my life,” she finished for him. Severus looked at her from the corner of his eye, while he walked next to her. Hermione glanced up at him and noticed a small smile tugging at his lips. The reality of what had just happened hit her, and how ridiculous it had been -- they were caught snogging by a teacher. Hermione Granger -- well Devereux to the people there -- and Severus Snape, two people who were the least likely to have been told off for doing so. Before she knew it, a giggle bursted out from her. Severus let out a deep chuckle in response. Then suddenly the two of them had been in stitches over the whole situation. Primarily the way Slughorn’s mouth comically popped open and the way his eyes nearly fell from their sockets. In just a few minutes time, it had gone from the most mortifying experience she'd ever had, to the most hilarious experience she'd ever had. And no matter what happened, she knew it would be something both of them would remember for the rest of their lives. Once the laughter had finally died away, and even the stray giggles were gone, Severus took Hermione’s hand and the two continued walking along the corridors. “Hermione?” She so loved when he would say her name. It still hadn't lost its charm on her. The deep baritone of his voice, even as a teenager, would make it sound like the most wonderful symphony to her ears. A reflexive smile painted her lips. “Yes, Severus?” “What are your plans for the holiday break?” he asked, sounding hopeful. Hermione squeezed his hand. “I'm staying here with my Uncle,” she half-lied. He squeezed her hand in return. “I guess that's good luck, considering I'll be here as well.” “Well good. Then I'm not losing my potion’s partner over the break,” she joked as she playfully bumped her hip into his side. Severus laughed softly. “That's the only reason you like me. My unparalleled brilliance.” “Yep,” she quipped, not missing a beat. As always when walking with him, they arrived at the bottom of the stairs to her Common Room in no time. When she stopped to say goodnight to him, a huge wave of emotion washed over her. She realized how grateful she was for him that evening. Because of Severus, she'd done a complete turnaround from how she'd been feeling when he first arrived into the Potion’s classroom, to find her sobbing over an empty cauldron. For someone she'd known most of her life as a person who was reserved, cold, and sometimes cruel, he'd shown himself to be much kinder, opened and more comforting than she ever would have imagined. Was he actually like that, deep down, as an adult? Or had he been through and seen too much that he'd be forever different? Would it even be possible for them to continue any sort of relationship once she returned to her time -- if he survived, of course? As she stood on her toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek before saying goodbye, she found herself desperately hoping so.