#ravenclaws are physicians

[fromthemouthofzabe]

Ah, the four kinds of people: physicians, theologians, lawyers, and miscellaneous.

- whoever tf decided which doctoral degrees exist

[merlinmylove]

The final chapter is up!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63826411/chapters/163670266

Thank you all for everything <3

Taglist below

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@gettingthisoverwith @jeffs77

@lover-of-midnight @drewday10

@rem-the-moth @mightbeadisaster

@mewmom @tercais @dragoonthegreatest

@a-very-tired-ravenclaw @5ammi90

@slmch @gemgdynamxght

@cute1penny @clairebonnefoy @starlight-kestrel

@justafangirlwithphases @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @p-3-ngu-1-n

@dokyeomification @tireddruid

@adageyer @onceandfuturehighpriestess

@twistedapple624 @merthurogies

@elliesalien @maryrl @orliththedragon

@bogslob @ballpit-bar

Merlin hated being kidnapped. It was truly the worst, especially at the hands of Agrvaiane, the slimiest and most pathetic person he’d ever had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting.

He’d been tied to the rock wall for two days at this point, arms crossed over his head in an uncomfortable position. His head was still hurting quite badly from where he’d been struck— probably by a rock — and his vision was a little off. But his hearing wasn’t.

From further into the cavern, he could hear Gaius’ weakened screams. 

Agravaine had informed him when he first woke that a Catha Priest was working on behalf of Morgana to extract information. Information that Gaius was reluctant to give, and wasn’t it just such a happy coincidence that he had found a sleeping Merlin in the woods? And surely, as Gaius' assistant, Merlin also knew something about the sorcerer Emrys.

Emrys. They wanted Emrys. They needed to know who he was and where he was. Were his ribs not cracked, Merlin would’ve laughed at the irony. Aside from the broken bones and bruised, bleeding skin, Merlin was also in pain from the cold iron chains.

Of course, Agravaine had no idea he had captured a warlock in these chains; he had simply picked up the discarded ones Morgana had brought with her. 

Merlin was trapped both inside a cave and inside himself. He could not escape, nor could he rescue Gaius. Gagged by cloth, he had been forced to sit and listen in on his father-figure screaming in pain, while he could do nothing to help. 

Gaius had been tortured for days, even before Merlin arrived. Dark magic and human hands had caused insufferable pain to both of them. The Catha Priest had worked tirelessly on Gaius, while Agravaine occasionally helped out when he was not busy abusing Merlin. 

Bruised and cracked ribs, small cuts into his skin, aching muscles, and a thundering headache kept Merlin awake. The stench of blood and dirt didn’t help, either.

Merlin prayed to the goddess that Gaius would break soon. He hoped that the older man would tell their capturers what he knew, if only so he could die quicker. A quick death would be preferable to this agony, and Merlin didn’t want Gaius to protect him.

While Merlin could save himself, he knew could no longer save his uncle, and so, praying for a swift death was his only hope. 

Merlin tried to cover his ears with his arms as he heard another scream of terror. Smoke from a fire filled his lungs, and he started coughing, blinking his eyes in pain. He tried again to reach for his magic, and while it sizzles under his skin and seemed to be just as desperate as him to escape, he cannot break the chains. Not yet, anyway. Not while his head is still spinning. 

A hard crack was heard and Merlin whips his head in the direction where it came from. The cave was filled with a loud silence, and all Merlin could hear was his heartbeat. He knew in that moment that Gaius had finally reached his end. He had either told them what they needed to know or he had perished from the pain.

Four days after Merlin left Camelot in search of his uncle he had died, and there was nothing Merlin could do. Regardless of how it had happened, his mother's brother's death was on his hands. Still, Merlin had never felt more relief than grief than he had in this moment.

—

Elyan and Gwaine had rushed ahead on horseback to alert the new court physician of the incoming patient. 

When Arthur and his knights finally made their way up the stairs into the castle early in the morning, Gwen was standing there waiting. “I’ve cleared out the guest rooms in my corridors. She will be more comfortable there, and not in a busy workspace.”

Arthur, Lancelot, Leon, and Percival carried Hunith up the stairs and towards her new rooms. She stirred a little in her sleep, but she seemed to be at ease. They moved her onto the bed, and Gwen and Farris began tending to her. 

“Get some rest, Arthur. You need it.” Someone said, but he couldn’t make out who. Wordlessly, he made his way back to his rooms, throwing bits of his armor off as he walked. Behind him, Gwaine followed him like a shadow.

Once safe inside his chambers, Arthur’s knees buckled under him, and he fell onto the carpet in front of the fireplace, where Merlin always sits. They would enjoy their quiet evenings together, Arthur in his chair nursing a glass of wine, while Merlin sits cross legged on the floor mending his shirts, or polishing his armor. 

Hours of his life had been spent listening to Merlin talk nonsense and pretending he wasn’t interested. But he was. He always listened to every word Merlin said because his voice was a solace he craved. The way Merlin spoke about his days and how he spun stories had always fascinated the young prince, and even now, as a king. 

Arthur clenched the worn carpet threads between his fingers. He never knew his soul could long for someone quite like this. He never knew his heart could hurt quite like this. 

The only times he’d ever truly suffered heartache was from seeing his mother's ghost, when his father died, and when he ended his courtship with Gwen. 

Because that’s what this was. 

Heartache.

Fuck. He was in love with Merlin. Oh, sweet gods above, how had he never realised it before? But now that his mind was caught up with how his heart was feeling, he could finally see sense. In Merlin’s bright smile, his stupid ears, and the way his fringe falls into his blue eyes — in him, Arthur sees his future and his happiness. His home.

“I love him,” Arthur choked on his tears as he confessed to Gwaine, who had sat down beside him. The knight rubbed his shoulder in a soothing gesture.

“I couldn’t even admit publicly that we were friends, but I love him!” Arthur cried. Had his father seen him now, he would’ve slapped some sense and decency into him. It was undignified and beneath a Pendragon to cry openly. Especially over a servant, and a male one at that.

But Arthur found he didn’t care what Uther or Agravaine had to say anymore. He had already lost one love due to them, he was not about to lose another. Merlin was his best friend, his faithful companion, and his absolute everything.

Father had always said servants were expendable. Replaceable. But not Merlin. No, to Arthur, he was irreplaceable.

“I’m glad to see you finally admitting it. It’s been rough watching the two of you walk on eggshells around each other, especially since your thing with Gwen ended.” Gwaine teased, not unkindly, but in the same trivial manner he always seemed to use.

“What are you talking about? I only just now realised it!” Arthur sputtered, but his knight laughed.

“Come now, princess. The way the two of you behave like an old married couple, fretting about each other like old wives, it was clear to anyone with eyes what Merlin was to you.” 

And in a much gentler tone, he levelled “…And what you are to him.”

“You don't know that. Don’t say it; don’t give me hope, not now.” Arthur was not above begging.

“Oh, but I do know. Merlin more or less told me so, and don’t think I’m breaking his confidence, because he also told me to look after you before anyone else. Even Gaius. So, I’m only telling you this so you will get a grip: Merlin is still out there. He still loves you, and if anyone can find him, it’s you. The two of you always seemed to have this...deeper understanding of each other.”

Arthur looked at Gwaine as the man helped him stand up.“Guess you could say there is a special bond between us. Something that has always drawn us closer to each other. It’s like…like I can sense him in any room without even setting eyes on him. My body knows Merlins’ like my own.”

Ordinarily, he would be embarrassed to admit such a thing out loud, but not now. He wiped his eyes and steadied himself. Gwaine met his eyes a little uncertainly.

“Even though he can command dragons? Even though it was most likely him who released it in the first place? Will Merlin be safe in Camelot given this newfound information?” 

“I don’t care anymore. I’m sure in time I will come to question things, but right now, the only thing I care about in this world is to get Merlin home.”

Gwaine smiled at him as he leaned against the door. He looked proud of his king, and it made Arthur feel some semblance of hope again.

—

Hunith stayed in her new chambers, hiding under the covers, while Gwen and Farris tried to keep her calm. She still smelled of smoke from the dragon fire that had saved her life.

She’d been clinging to the bedsheets, shaking and crying, for hours. “It’s not real, it’s not real,” she moaned while Gwen kept trying to calm her down. Her moss green dress was torn and dusty. Her hair was matted, and her pale skin was bruised.

She never opened her eyes, too afraid of what she might see, but she did eventually accept the truth that she had been rescued. Eventually, she tired herself back to sleep. 

—

The knights gather at the stables once more. Tired and hungry, they set off for the woods again. Hunith is safe, but her son isn’t, and Arthur is going to bring him home, come hell or high water.

Gwaine's words rattle around his brain, and he cannot get them to stop. Merlin was a dragonlord, and by law, he was to be executed. Of course, Arthur would never do that — and he had never intended to harm Balinor either when he risked his life to save Camelot.

But it still posed another question that confused him. Was a dragonlord's ancestry any different to magic, or was it just another kind of magic like his father had believed. In that case, Merlin never chose to study magic, instead, it was chosen for him by nature.

And that makes no sense. All his life he’s been taught that magic was an evil knowledge that one sought out for power. But if magic could simply happen to people without their consent, then…then that changes everything.

Everyone knows Gaius used to practice magic. He still does, to some extent. The books, the potions, the network of sorcerers. And now that Arthur knew Merlin was a dragonlord, a dragonlord who had studied herbology and medicine under Gaius, he realised something else; 

Merlin always seemed to understand and recognise magical creatures and people. If Merlin could inherit his dragonlord powers, it stands to reason he could have learnt magic from Gaius, too. 

Merlin was a dragonlord who studied magic.

The wind howled as they rode on, Elyan tracking what remained of some footsteps. The king was barely keeping up with them, too lost in his own head.

Arthur remembered the whispered conversations he’d overheard as a child. About how magic was celebrated and revered in Camelot and all throughout Albion for centuries, before his father became King. Even several years into his reign, magic was an integral part of the kingdom, as seen by the dragonlords and court sorcerers like Nimueh, who used to be his friends.

Until one day when father decided it was evil and unleashed a purge that has lasted nearly thirty years…What was his explanation, Arthur wondered? For years, he’d been told that magic killed his mother; how that happened was never explained. 

The incessant talk of the wickedness that was magic was inescapable. Everyone believed it was evil so it must be evil. But how can one man decide the natural forces of the universe is a wickedness, and try to eradicate it?

Arthur dreaded the idea that Morgause had told him the truth. At the time, he had refused to accept the notion that his father could willingly do such a thing. To bargain a life, anyone’s, let alone his wife’s, for that of an heir…well, now he realised it was precisely the sort of thing Uther Pendragon would do.

Arthur cursed and gripped the reins tighter. Merlin had always said he needed to control his emotions. It was this lack of control that had landed them in this situation in the first place. He could ruminate about his father's follies another time — right now, he had a manservant to save.

—

They find Merlin’s bag and belongings a few hours' ride away from the Citadel. A small camp had been made there, the fire had burnt out, and Merlin’s belongings lay scattered across the wet grass. Hengroen was still tied to the tree.

“This belongs to Merlin,” Percival spoke as he picked up a small dragon carved from wood. “He showed it to me once…said it was his family’s.” Everyone stared at the small dragon with a sense of pity and sadness. Arthur packed up the bags and tied them to his horse. He refused to cry again. 

It was Leon who brought him out of his thoughts. “Sire! Look, track marks. Someone was dragged that way.”

—

Gaius lay dead on the floor, and Merlin was still chained to the ceiling with cold iron. He had failed to save his uncle's life, and he would carry that guilt with him for the rest of his own. 

Gaius had told the Catha Priest what he needed to know before he died, but the man had refused to bend for Morgana and had instead left to raise an army in Emrys' name. Frustrated that his role as a spy in Arthur’s court was revealed, and angry that the priest had refused him, Agravaine had decided to make Merlin his new victim.

While Agravaine has been torturing him for information for hours, Merlin was never going to crack. No matter how hard he hits or how deep he cuts, nothing can make Merlin betray his king.

“Accept it, Merlin. Morgana has probably killed Arthur by now. There is nothing left for you back in Camelot, not after your little speech.” He gloated, twirling a dagger in his hands.

Merlin scoffed at the pathetic display. “Arthur isn’t dead. I would know it in my heart if his had stopped. There would not be air in my lungs if he had stopped breathing. My King is alive; I know it in my soul.” He replied with pride.

A hard fist met his face, and he felt his lip split open. Merlin smiled.

Agravaine had no idea he had actually captured the fabled Emrys he had spent months trying to find. He only knew Merlin as Arthur’s pet servant. It had better stay that way, at least until he got out of these chains.

“You know I will never break, you know this is fruitless. Just let me go.” Merlin tried to bargain, but it was too much to hope that Agravaine would ever let him live.

“Never.” Agravaine was but a mortal man, while Merlin was the last dragonlord. He was Emrys. His head was no longer spinning, and his anger was burning hot, fuelling the magic that flowed through his veins.

He held the blade up to Merlin’s face. “Any last words before I gut you like a rat?” He laughed, and Merlin jutted his chin up in a defiant manner. He taunted the man who held no power over him.

“Long Live King Arthur!” Merlin chanted with a huge busted-lipped grin. While he had no plan of dying today, he had always wanted to die knowing he stayed true to his king with his last breath in life. 

The cold iron chains may have dampened his magic, but he could still feel it simmering beneath his skin. Merlin summoned all his strength to break the chains. He could hear the metal crackle and the chains splinter apart. 

Agravaine was thankfully too bloodthirsty to notice the outstanding magic taking place in front of him. He aimed the knife at Merlin’s chest.

But he was too late — within half a second, a flurry of red capes and silver armour appeared through the cave opening, surrounding Agravaine at sword point. Six knights stood strong, swords drawn, ready for battle.

They had found him! His knights. His friends. They had come for him, just as he had hoped they would. He could see Arthur standing tall in the midst of them, his golden hair looking like a crown adorning his head, as he kept his sword pointed at Agravaine.

Merlin could taste his freedom mixed with the blood in his mouth. The worst week of his life was finally over, and Arthur had come to find him. His King.

“Drop the knife,” Arthur commanded his uncle, who was so shocked by their entrance that he didn’t have time to react properly. Sirs Leon and Percival were on him immediately, and grabbed his arms to the side, holding him tightly.

The chains holding Merlin’s arms above his head were loose now, and he wiggled them out as best he could. Gwaine yanked them down from the wall and helped him get free. His muscles screamed in pain from being held up in an unnatural position for days, but he didn’t care because Gwaine was hugging him.

“Where’s Gaius?” He whispered to him as he held Merlin in his arms. 

“He died last night,” Said Merlin calmly. He pointed with his hands to the right side of the cave, where it wormed itself further into the mountains. “He’s in there.”

With sad looks on their faces, Gwaine and Lancelot tried to get him out of the cave, but Merlin resisted. He shook them off his shoulders and turned to face his uncle's killer. 

They were both kneeling on the ground before King Arthur’s feet. They look into each other's eyes. Blue met fury. “Before you die, I want you to know something. And I want you to hear it from me.”

Everyone stilled at Merlin’s hard tone. “I lied to you. I know who Emrys is, and I know where he is.” Merlin taunted the older man. 

“You’re looking at him.”

Agravaine scoffed and hurtled insults after him, but Percival and Leon held him back.“You? Emrys? Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. You’re nothing more than a servant.” He spat.

“Exactly. I was born to serve my King.” Merlin’s stone cold voice left no room for doubt. Something seemed to register in Agravaine's eyes, and the man shook with anger. Merlin was always there, always by Arthur’s side. Always foiling his plans.

“And you will die with that information. You will die knowing you failed your mistress. You will die a traitor and a failure; Morgana won’t mourn you. She won’t even notice your death. She never cared about you.”

“We were going to be King and Queen together!” 

Arthur inhaled sharply at this remark but kept his sword hand still. Merlin laughed painfully as his broken ribs dug into his organs.

“Is that what you think? Tell me, my lord? Did she ever allow you to get closer than the occasional brush of arms or a kiss on the cheek? No. She never cared about you; she only used you to get revenge on Arthur, and as soon as you proved useless, she planned to kill you without a second thought. You were nothing but a convenience to her.”

Painful humiliation and hurt flashed across the man’s face. He looked struck with grief over his lady and their supposed love. “And you will die knowing you insulted Ygraine's memory.”

Lancelor kept a steady hand on Merlin, who was tired of hiding. Arthur was about to discover his magic, but at least he had proven Agravaine’s betrayal.

“I am Emrys, and I have harnessed the power over life and death. I know you wish to see your dear brother and sister in Avalon, but that’s not where you’re headed.” He paused for a moment, looking into the man’s eyes. “And I think you know it.”

Agravaine swallowed uncomfortably. Percival tightened his grip on him. No one spoke.

“Say hi to Uther for me.” Merlin grinned before Lancelot and Gwaine helped him stand up and carried him out of the cave.

—

Arthur stood before his kneeling uncle. “Lord Agravaine.” He began, his voice stone cold. For once, Arthur didn’t feel guilty about sentencing a man to death. Nor did he feel grief about losing a family member.

“You stand accused of high treason, of murder and torture. There will be no trial. You’ve proved your guilt before us all, and for that, you will pay with your life.” 

His uncle had no chance to speak up before Arthur aimed his sword and swung. A wet swishing sound echoed in the cave as his throat was slit open. No more words were spoken. Percival dropped the man’s limp shoulders, and Agravaine fell flat on the ground. Dead.

Arthur felt cathartic. His uncle was dead. Good. He had killed his last living blood relative. And he was proud of it. He would kill a hundred more family members if it meant Merlin’s safety.

Looking around the cave they were all standing in, he could see the blood splatters soaking into the ground and walls. He could tell the cave went further in, where Gaius was. Leon, Percy, and Elyan went in search of the physician while Arthur walked back out after Merlin.

He sees his friend cradled in Gwaine's arms and Lancelot attempting to assess his injuries. There was a lot of blood and bruises. Merlin winced as Lance's hands touched his chest.

Arthur stumbled over to him, soaking in the sight of Merlin alive and breathing. He was alive! Thank the Gods. Arthur knelt and reached out to him. 

Arthur was so overcome with relief at seeing Merlin alive that he kissed his face. A quick press of his lips to Merlin’s forehead, and then cheek, an expression he would never normally have shown. But he simply didn’t care anymore. Merlin was alive — even if he never found it in his soul to forgive Arthur —he could at least rest knowing his friend was alive. He tried to speak, “Merlin, I...” 

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Arthur. And I’m sorry too. I never wanted you to see me like that. And I’m sorry your uncle didn’t love you the way you deserve.”

Kind, sweet Merlin, always thinking of others before himself. Arthur tried to smile at him, but it looked more like a grimace. Things between them had changed. He took Merlin’s hand in his and kissed it. “I am the one who’s sorry, Merlin. I’m sorry for not listening, for not being the King and friend you deserve, and I’m so sorry, Gaius...” He hiccuped.

Gathering his senses, Arthur opened his eyes and spoke more clearly. “He will have a funeral of honour.”

“No!” Merlin refused, wincing against the bandages Lancelot applied to his chest. “Gaius spent the last twenty-seven years of his life fearing the pyre. He died loyal to Camelot. Please, Arthur, grant him some dignity in death. Don’t burn him now.”

“Alright, Merlin, I hear you.” Arthur treaded carefully around the topic of his old mentor's death. “How…how would you like it done?”

“Can you take us to the lake at the edge of the forest? It’s less than an hour's ride away. The goddess who lives in the lake will ensure his safe passing to Avalon.”

“Oh,” Arthur seemed confused, but he was past the point of asking questions. Whatever he could do to make Merlin forgive him, if he ever could, he would do.

Three knights emerge from the cavern, carrying the old man between them. They had wrapped him in their capes. Arthur was ashamed to admit he was happy he was spared the sight of the old man’s wounded body. 

No man is worth your fears, father had once told him. But it had been years since he last believed in it. As they placed Gaius’s body down on the ground near them, Arthur looked at him.

He sobbed over the dead man whom he had loved like an uncle. “I’m so sorry. You deserved so much more, and I failed you. I swear I will honour your name every day for as long as I live. Your death is on my hands, but your life will live on in our memories.”

Merlin leaned into Arthur and gripped his hand tighter. He leaned back into him. The ground was cold beneath them, and the air was crisp. “We should leave if you want to get to the lake before nightfall.” 

Lancelot brought his horse over to them. “I will carry him.”

“No, he should be with me,” Merlin tried to argue, but the two knights shut him down.

“You are too injured, my friend. You cannot hold onto both the horse and Gaius. He will be safe with me, you should ride with someone else, though.”

They start their journey to the lake, Lancelot with Gaius and Arthur with Merlin. The other knights formed a half circle around them for protection. The lake Merlin spoke of was close enough, and Arthur allowed himself a moment to breathe in Merlin’s presence. Arthur cradled him like he was the most precious cargo. The warrior king used gentle hands and a kind voice as he spoke to his servant. He held onto Merlin as they made their way.

He didn’t know how to bring up what Morgana had done to Hunith, but the truth was what Merlin deserved. Arthur explained as gently and calmly as he could because Merlin needed to hear this from him. “Your mother is safe in Camelot.”

“Why is she there?” Merlin tried to look back at him, but with his painful ribs, he couldn’t move much. He leaned back into Arthur’s arms instead.

“Morgana took her and tortured her for information. Your dragon brought her to me. She is safe with Gwen now and being looked after carefully.”

Merlin’s face set hard. His jaw clicked shut, and Arthur felt uneasy. The ground underneath them started rumbling like thunder; gravel and dirt fell away, and Arthur felt the ground shaking under Llamreis’ hooves.

The sky darkened and Arthur felt the telltale sign of lightning forming above in the clouds. Had any other sorcerer done this, he would have been petrified, but as it was Merlin, his Merlin, he was able to calm himself.

He steadied Merlin, who was sizzling with magic, golden sparks flickering between his fingertips. “Breathe, my love. Your mother is alive and safe; you will see her as soon as we return home.” He pressed his lips into Merlin’s head, not exactly kissing him, but the gesture wasn’t platonic either.

“I guess I should apologise for lying about you killing a dragon,” Merlin mumbled as he calmed down.

“I’m glad he’s alive, if only to look after Hunith. But I'm a little sad that I can no longer claim the feat of dragonslayer.” Arthur tried to joke before he continued. “He said Morgana was still on fire when he fled with Hunith. I’m not sure if she’s alive, but I reckon she is. Apparently, she suspects that Emrys is working against her.” 

Arthur didn’t know who or what Emrys was, but if Merlin told Agravaine the truth then he had no reason to worry. If Merlin was this Emrys, then he knew Camelot was safe.

“Is he?”  Arthur whispered into Merlin’s hair.

“With every fiber of his being.” 

—

They sit and watch Gaius's body being sent off into the lake. The boat Merlin had conjured sailed away quietly, bobbing gently in the waves. Merlin had kept a silent vigil over the funeral for a while before he looked over at Arthur.

“I have magic.” There was no point denying it any longer.

Arhrur huffed a little laugh. “I figured it out on my own. I’m not entirely useless, you know.” Arthur teased, but his eyes were still wet. “I don’t care, Merlin. I have questions, many of them in fact, but all I care about right now is getting you back home. You’re alive! That's all that matters to me.”

The other knights pretended not to be listening as Merlin and Arthur had their necessary talk. “You called me love,” Merlin said, but it was a question.

“I did…”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what you are. You are my love.” Arthur had never been more confident. As he held Merlin’s hand in his, their legs pressed up against each other on the stony shore, and he finally felt at ease.

“Does that mean my banishment is lifted, that I can come back?” Merlin’s eyes glistened, but a smile was forming on his face.

“You were never actually banished! Camelot is your home, and your mother is there now too. I want you to come home.” Arthur retorted.

“Then why did you threaten it?”

“Because your words frightened me, it angered me. I was so afraid of losing the last family member I had that I pushed away the only true friend I’ve ever known. And it scared me that you always knew me so well, that you could read me like an open book.”

Merlin smiled at him and pressed their foreheads together. Ever so gently, he threaded his fingers through Arthur’s new-grown beard.

“We know each other so well because we’re connected through destiny. Our souls were chosen for each other. I was born for you. Some say we’re two sides of the same coin — one is always connected to the other.”

“Does that mean you love me too?” Arthur dared to ask, only to be met with a rather unbecoming snort. “Of course I do, you dollophead. I always have, with everything that I am.”

Despite the busted lip and the blood in his hair, Merlin smiled as brightly as he could. Arthur had never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Will I ever earn your forgiveness?” He whispered to his lover, friend, and servant.

“You already have it. But I don’t think I deserve yours…I’ve lied too many times and done so many horrible things. People are dead because of me.”

“Did you have a good reason for your actions?” Arthur asked while he stroked a piece of dark hair behind his ears.

“Sometimes, yes. Other times, no”

“Then we shall talk about it. And we shall listen and cry together. But know that I have already forgiven you for anything you might’ve done, just as you have forgiven me for this.”

—

“Never letting you out of my sight ever again,” Arthur murmured into Merlin’s soft, damp hair. One hand clutched at his neck and the other at his waist, holding him tight, tight, tight. He had practically carried Merlin up the stairs and into the castle upon their return.

“No? Never?” He huffed a little defiantly into the king's shoulder. It hurt to laugh, but he was too elated to be back with his king to care.

“No, you’d just get into all kinds of trouble.” Arthur tried to joke, and Merlin coughed a little laugh. It was a delightful sound, Arthur thought. One he would happily spend the rest of his life listening to.

“I didn’t do half bad without you, you know.” 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments, Merlin; it's unbecoming of the King's servant.”

“So I still have my job?” Merlin tried to joke back, but really, he should know his king better by now, for Arthur just scoffed.

“You’re my manservant, terrible as you are, always late and eating my food, you’re still mine. My rooms are a mess, you know, and I haven’t shaved in over a week. You’re gonna have to work overtime to make up for your lazy ways.” 

—

Merlin spent the next few days being tended to by Farris, while Gwen and Arthur fretted about him like his mother would’ve. Arthur had practically glued himself to his side the last few days. While still tending to his kingdom and preparing for an inevitable attack by Morgana, he spent whatever time he had with Merlin.

Huntih was getting better, but she still relied on sleeping draughts to avoid nightmares. Merlin stayed with her every day, speaking in gentle tones and reading to her. As she smiled at him with all the love a mother has, Merlin swore to the Goddess he would fulfill his destiny and kill Morgana.

—

A week after his return to Camelot, Merlin was about to fall asleep next to Arthur. He rested his head on his broad chest, loving the warmth and safety of their embrace. He closed his eyes in happiness. After everything that had happened, after all their conversations and tears, his king still loved him. Arthur had chosen him over his father's old laws, over propriety and dignity, and his king had never seemed happier.

The king held his whole world in his arms as he hugged Merlin tighter. “I don’t deserve your loyalty,” Arthur mumbled into the dark, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s forehead. His skin was warm against Merlin's, who only curled closer into him.

Merlin rolled his eyes before he looked up at him and kissed his jaw. One day, Arthur would come to forgive himself, but until then, Merlin would have to remind him of their shared forgiveness.

“Still, you will always have it.”

The end.

[hernakedmuse]

{{{{Emily Halliwell

Emily Serena Halliwell

Mother, Monica Halliwell (nee Chandler) is an American pure-blood witch from Ipswich, Massachusetts. She was born in a matriarchal witch family, the Chandlers are Salem descendants, her mother Hazel Chandler is a pure-blood heiress, an aurologist and owns a luxury crystal business for non-maj and magical community, and a travelling socialite. She is very independent and never desired marriage but children, and chose her lover, a curse-breaker pure-blood, Spellman Goldstein, cousins to Tina and Queenie Goldstein. He is adventurous man who travels all over and loves women and liquor, he's good natured but never desired to be a husband or father, but he's in love with the spirited and independent, Hazel Chandler and agreed to giving her three children. Together they had Monica, Lorelei, and Amanda. He gives them money and gifts and sometimes shows up, but lisn't much of a father, just how Hazel likes it.

Monica was a Thunderbird at Ilvermorny and top of her class, she excelled at every subject.

After graduation she went to no-maj second education, getting a bachelor's in Anthropology at Harvard University, then went to Oxford University to get a bachelor's in Arts and Humanities, she lived with her Great Aunt Zelda who was always busy so she had the townhouse to herself. She took ballet classes as well as acting, she loved the muggle world and had to know everything about everything. Her Humanities professor, the handsome and popular, Dr. Darren Halliwell was intrigued by the mysterious American beauty, he's a viscount of Cotswolds as well, and tried to ignore how he felt about his favorite student, but eventually late nights happened and they couldn't resist each other.

They were serious for years and moved in together after dating for two years, after two years she told him she's a witch and he still loved her, when she was 34 and he was 44 they married despite his family being against it, and she became the Viscountess of Cotswolds.

She became a potioneer, alchemist, and Magical physician. They lived together at his manor in Cotswolds, she opened up a new age shop called The Bell, Booke, and Candle, for muggles, and for the wizarding community, in Diagon Alley, she opened up a sort of an apothecary called The White Cauldron.

They eventually had their daughter Emily.

At their home, Monica has a black goat called Lucifer, her own familiar a black cat named Grimalkin, her screech owl Lilith, a jackalope called Hy-Brasil, Darren has his white bavarian shepherd named Mayerling they all love and protects the home.

Emily has a black and red fox, named Salem, a vampire bat called Pyewacket, and a two white bunnies named, Lancelot and Tristan.

Emily is very good with creatures magical and non magical, same for plants.

She also has a knack for potions and divination is strong with her, she's a very traditional witch.

Emily can speak to animals

She's also good at wandcraft she made her own out of a jackalope horn given to her by her grandfather Spellman Goldstein, from a pet jackalope of his that passed, she used the nail of a werewolf for the core given to her by her Aunt Mandy who had a female werewolf love that gave it to her, and it's twelve inches, carved pagan symbols and vines into the wood and sprinkled crushed dust from Amethyst in it. The wand is best at healing, divination, curses, and jinxes.

She's a Hufflepuff but was almost a ravenclaw

She celebrates the pagan holidays

She worships the goddesses

Emily brings muggle things to school like her phone and airpods and hides them behind her hair

It drives Theo crazy when he calls her name and she can't hear him and he blames the muggles for it

Despite her blood status and house, Emily's friends are mainly in Slytherin.

In third year, Lavender Brown was teasing Pansy for being a lesbian, and Emily told Lavender off, and she snapped and gave her a burning jinx which she got detention for and house points deductions, but she didn't regret it and showed no remorse. She told Pansy that her aunt is a lesbian and told her she has her back, Pansy and her became best friends instantly.

The Slytherin boys shockingly took to Emily quickly learning she defended her quickly, despite everything. They liked that Emily didn't judge them.

Theodore was practically in love with Emily since first year, he doesn't have a good reason just that she intrigues him and she's beautiful, and the more he watched her the more he loved her, and when Cedric Diggory tried to cheat on Cho with Emily in fourth year, he sent him off the Astronomy Tower...he almost died....almost.

Emily always had a crush on Theodore Nott, who wouldn't? He's hot as fuck, she heard he's half Italian and fluent, and when she became apart of the snake pit she found out it was true, he's also brooding and has a hard time to open up like some romantic character from the books she reads. He's like Heathcliff.

He doesn't ever take to anyone new, but he took to her as soon as Pansy introduced her, they found that they could talk about anything together, he listened to her random ramblings about selkies, or new "movies" and "tv shows", she shared her music with him and because he doesn't speak much and she speaks a lot, it was just perfect.

When he started calling her Italian terms of endearment, she was a definite goner and no man could compare, she wanted Theodore Dante Nott more than anyone in the word.

[tellstales]

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Rurik Stonebloom

Nickname(s): Doc

Age: 48

Home Realm: The Forest Glen (Snow White, etc.)

Gender: Cis Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Demiromantic Demisexual

Occupation: Physician (Retired Monster Hunter)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair Colour: Brunette with gray

Eye Colour: Blue-Green

Height: 4'8"

Weight: 130 lbs

Build: Muscular

Tattoos: Several scattered over his body.

Piercings: Both ears, septum, and nipples.

Clothing Style: Lots of sweaters/cardigans. :3

Usual Expression: Placid

Distinguishing Characteristics: A thick lil man, crooked teeth, bulbous nose.

HEALTH

Physical Ailments: Poor eyesight

Neurological Conditions: Dyslexia, Mild Aphasia

Allergies: None

Sleeping Habits: A surplus of Z’s

Eating Habits: Regularly and often

Exercise Habits: Minimal, couple times a week

Emotional Stability: 7/10

Sociability: He can be quite social.

Body Temperature: Hot-natured.

Addictions: Caffeine, Sugar

Drug Use: None

Alcohol Use: Social

PERSONALITY

Label: The Walking Disaster

Positive Traits: Loyal, self-aware, courageous, wise, magnanimous, understanding

Negative Traits: Clumsy, naive, credulous, easily lead, scatterbrained, oblivious

Goals/Desires: He wants everyone to be safe and happy.

Fears: Fire, something bad happening to his friends

Hobbies: Dancing, gardening

FAVOURITES

Weather: Sunny

Color: Red

Sport: Axe Throwing

Beverage: Mead

Food: Pork

Animal: Deer

FAMILY

Father: Stunton Bloomstone

Mother: Brielle Bloomstone

Sibling(s): 2 brothers, 3 sisters

Pet(s): None

Financial Status: Somewhat comfortable.

EXTRA

Zodiac Sign: Leo

MBTI: ENFP

Enneagram: Type Nine: The Achiever

Temperament: Sanguine

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

Primary Vice: Pride

Primary Virtue: Charity

Element: Fire

INTIMATE DETAILS

Position: Versatile, Bottom-leaning

Role: Switch

Size: 6 ¾”

Uncut: Yes

Cum: Excessive

Kinks: Kissing, Mutual Masturbation, Group Sex, Frottage, Snowballing, Armpits, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (Performing)

Anti-Kinks: Scat, Pain, Degradation, Humiliation

[theroundbartable]

Random ask, if Klance, Gajevy, and Merthur are going to Hogwarts, what houses do you think that will fit them (in your opinions)? Why?

Hmmm.... That's a very good question too.

1. Gajevy

Levy would definitely be a Ravenclaw. She's academic smart and solves riddles. She's pretty clearly a Ravenclaw.

Gajeel would, I think, be a Slytherin. Once he's decided on a family, he sticks to them. This has a little to do with my definition of Slytherins but I think Gajeel would be really family and blood oriented. If he can't have that, then he's going to stick to the group of people he accepts as family and goes way too far for them. It's what he did when we first see him. (I watched the show 10 years ago, I can't remember the guild name) but I remember that his entire life revolved around them and he simply accepted their guild rules as law.

My house definition on that note:

Hufflepuffs don't focus so much on blood/family relations and more on found family. Their friendship bonds are self made and soft.

Ravenclaws are study groups that help each other become smarter.

Gryffindors are friends who are willing to fight each other for their believes if necessary.

Slytherins stick to blood relations and accept tradition as law and would never stand up to one another. Nor are their relationships necessarily emotional or have specific goals. They stick together in order to stick together. That's why they are easier to manipulate.

2. Klance

Lance: Gryffindor. The reason for that is not necessarily that it's the house that fits him best but Lance would have chosen it. He has as much Hufflepuff energy as he is brave but he wants to be brave, wants to be a hero. So, naturally, the hat let him choose the house. And he grows really into that role.

Keith: Gryffindor. He's reckless, he's couragous and gets himself in trouble. He's always been a Gryffindor. And Lance hates to know that the hat didn't hesitate to put Keith there. That Keith is more of a Gryffindor than him. Keith doesn't really believe that he fits though.

However, I believe that both of them would be able to pull the sword from the hat. I might even argue that Lance would do it first.

3. Merthur

Oh.... Boy. This one is difficult, I swear.

Arthur is easily a Gryffindor. He's courage incarnate, whereelse would HE go? He's pulled the sword from the stone, he's a Pendragon, gold on red. That's a Gryffindor alright. (Although I would find it funny if he chose family over himself at the age of 11 and therefore lands in Slytherin on accident.)

Merlin, however.... Merlin could go anywhere.

Merlin is the bravest man Arthur has ever known. Merlin is smart (a physician). Merlin is accepting and trusting and he's also cunning and far too tied to his friends. The hat never needed longer to decide where to put him.

I have a few theories where Merlin would go, possibly.

A) if he knows Arthur is his destiny, he will follow him to Gryffindor.

B) if it's purely based on his characteristics and the hat gets to decide, he'd be a Slytherin. (Unless the hat has Kilgharrahs voice, then he'll be in Gryffindor again)

C) if Merlin chooses his own future, decides to focus on studying his magic, he'd go to Ravenclaw.

D) if Merlin can't decide, if the hat can't decide and Merlin doesn't want to give up on either of his characteristics, then the hat will put him in Hufflepuff to become an Allrounder.

That's my thoughts on this :) feel free to share yours as well ^^

[harrypotterhousequotes]

RAVENCLAW: Wir müssen wissen — wir werden wissen! (We must know — we will know!) –David Hilbert (Address to the Society of German Scientists and Physicians, in Königsberg [8 September 1930])

[ambiguoussorceress]

Came back basically from the dead to rant about something that isn't at all topical.

Merlin (from the bbc show) is a Slytherin 100%. I'm tired of reading fics that make him a Hufflepuff (or any other house). It really is annoying me, so I came here to lay out my points. Feel free to argue back, although I might not see it. I may be biased as a Slytherin, but I think I have some good points.

So let's first recognize how people think of him, and how he gets lumped in with other houses. Merlin's main character traits are as follows; Loyalty, secrecy, a goofy outward appearance, and some (not me exactly) might argue bravery. Let's quickly get what he obviously is not out of the way. Most people will agree that Merlin isn't a Gryffindor despite the assumption about his bravery. I think this is something we know through vibes. Merlin is not focused on glory or being a hero. And, I would argue that he isn't really that brave. I think most people associate Merlin with bravery because Arthur often refers to him that way. Why does Arthur think Merlin is brave? It's because he is a powerless man that followed them unarmed into battle on many occasions. Now run that back. Since we know the truth that Arthur didn't, I think you understand what I'm getting at. Merlin is a powerful sorcerer. The most powerful sorcerer. He has always had his magic to fall back on if things go south. And, I'd say that his magic is one of the few things he in self assured about. I would argue that Merlin walking onto the battle field is only scared for one thing and that's Arthur. We have never seen him do outright acts of bravery when you really think about it. In fact, a Gryffindor would have told Arthur about his magic way sooner. That would have taken some guts. Merlin literally only told him the truth on his death bed, and that was only because he had to.

Now onto Ravenclaw. People also tend to put him in this house in fics, but I don't think there is much evidence. I mostly assume the person doing it is either a Ravenclaw themselves, want more eagle representation, or they want to put him in a neutral house outside of the argument. Im not going to argue that Merlin is stupid or that he doesn't have what it takes to be a Ravenclaw or anything. But, I'd like you to really think about why you would associate him with 'the smart house'. Merlin is the Physician's assistant (which probably does take some brains granted), but does he ever show outright interest in it outside of what he has to do to earn his keep (and living quarters). It's not like he came to Camelot because he wanted to learn medicine. He is only shown going through books when he has to find something to protect Arthur or his friends. Even his magic book. I think there was lots of opportunities to show Merlin knowing things from previous studies or just actually studying, but you almost never see that unless he needs something specific. I would also argue that he isn't that creative. We see him mainly use the same spells throughout the show. I think a Ravenclaw would have shown a greater variety from memory even if there was some they fell back on. They also might use the same spells in different ways, but Merlin always uses spells in very straightforward ways. TLDR I would classify him as witty and wise, but he isn't the type to learn something for the sake of knowing.

Now let's look at the most contentious one-- Hufflepuff. This is the one most people put him in, and I don't blame them. One of his defining character traits is his loyalty to Arthur, and he has the vibes of a Hufflepuff (friendly, helpful, and a bit goofy). But, that is no Hufflepuff loyalty. I would like to point to the Slytherin trait of fraternity-- Loyalty with a more naferious name. So what is the difference between these two houses different brands of loyalty? Hufflepuff's are loyal as a general rule. They won't break a promise to any person regardless of closeness, and they will likely prioritize loyalties based on what's right or who will be the most hurt. Slytherins on the other hand will always prioritize what/who they consider theirs above anything else. I tend to think of this as a ranking system. My sisters are first rank so they will always come first, my parents the next, friends next, ect. Now think back to every loyal thing Merlin has done. He is generally a nice and helpful person. I won't deny that. However, its clear that he will ALWAYS prioritize Arthur above everyone else-- even above what he knows is the right thing to do. I could bring out evidence all day, but I only need this one to prove my point. Do you remember the episode (in season five I believe) where the triple goddesses try to force Arthur to choose between freeing magic or saving Mordred's life? Merlin had that opportunity. Arthur asked him what he should do and was very receptive to the idea of freeing magic. But, if Merlin chose magic Mordred would presumably live on to eventually kill Arthur (mind you this is based on prophesy not anything Mordred had done up to that point) . Merlin has to make that choice. His freedom and the freedom of countless others in the balance. Yet, he chooses Arthur. He proved that he would condemn a boy who has never done anything wrong, condemn thousands to death-- all only for Arthur. So Arthur could live. That, my friend, is a Slytherin brand of loyalty-- pragmatic yet hierarchical. I'd also like to add that, while he does have to do hard work, I wouldn't classify him as hard working. He is always willing to take a shortcut when given the opportunity. He is also often late or nowhere to be found. We know why, but I think someone hard working would at least ask someone to help with things he can't finish.

Now, when you add up all of the facts, Merlin is clearly a Slytherin. He is witty, often turns to being secretive even if he doesn't have to because it is easier, he has a Slytherin brand of loyalty, always willing to take shortcuts, and he must be ambitious with a lofty goal like keeping Arthur alive (and the whole freeing magic thing. I'd say that is one of his ambitions). So there you have it. If I haven't convinced you yet, feel free to make your arguments. I, however, am convinced. Also as a plus, Merlin is canonically a Slytherin in the HP universe (not that I am such a stickler for what's canon. Lets just have fun).

++ I forgot to add that as physicians apprentice, his main duty is making potions. Which house is best known for producing potioneers? That's right, Slytherin!

[viridianllamasinthesilentspace]

Sorting “Firefly”

Malcolm Reynolds is our go-to example for the Burned Hufflepuff Primary. Look at him in the war—his faith isn’t in the righteousness or the cause, but their people: Hear that? That’s our angels coming.

Mal has a big heart, and he wants to both help and to believe in other people. (This is one of the reasons River is so vital to him—but we’ll talk about that later). Mal after the war is no different in what he wants—he’s just had to settle, injured, for a smaller world. “You’re on my crew,” he tells a bewildered Simon. (Simon’s Slytherin is absolutely flabbergasted by Mal’s stubborn loyalties to him and River, which is based in their need and their being part of the family, where Simon’s loyalties are razor-edged and individualistic). Because this is Mal—he can’t love the whole world anymore, or even just the Browncoats, because he knows that would destroy him—it already almost did. But he can love his crew. He can make Serenity a home.

His Puff shows up in other places, too, sneaking past the Slytherin model he’s used to keep himself alive and sane after the breaking of his too-big heart. He gives the medicines back in "Train Job", risking Niska’s wrath. Zoe, who first fell into step behind a Hufflepuff years ago, questions him about it in the movie—an unburned Mal, the one from the war, would never have left a man behind. This Mal shot him (a mercy) to save his crew. That prioritizing (or, rather, the instantaneous decision of it) points to his Slytherin model—but it eats Mal up the way it would never eat up Simon (“Remember, River, it’s okay to leave them to die.”). Mal wishes, deeply, quietly, that he could save everyone. But war and loss burned his young, faithful Hufflepuff into a man who thinks one of the basic truths of the universe is that you can’t save everyone and it will destroy you to try. So he’s sunk his stake into these eight Serenity-boarded souls and decided it’s enough.

This is one of the things that makes his relationship with River so interesting. The Burned Puff knows he should not be trusting and investing in this broken bird and her 'verse-wide bounty, her untrustworthy triggers and destructive lethality. But in letting them stay in the pilot, in pulling her back to the ship in "Objects in Space", in joining her crusade in "Serenity", he defies all these hard lessons he’s learned and he trusts her, he fights for her, he believes. The last moment of the Firefly filmed universe is Mal Reynolds teaching River how to fly.

For a definition of teach, anyway.

For secondary—Mal’s a Gryff. “If I shoot you,” he told Simon, “you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed.” Badger mocks him for it in the pilot— Mal wants the world to be honorable. He wants to be fighting the good fight, and he wants to do it in the good ways. Gryffindor Secondaries are an interesting mix of stand-up integrity and mischievous, even deceitful rule-breaking and chaos (think Fred and George). These potentially conflicting traits fall to this: Gryffindor Secondaries are self-defined. Their integrity and their honesty is a deal with themselves, not others. They stand firm to their own rules, but find other people’s or organizations’ [rules] insignificant, or even downright offensive.

The other Secondaries all can and do break rules—a Slytherin Secondary might play the system, a Hufflepuff Secondary might invest in it, a Ravenclaw might find its loopholes—but a good rule of thumb for identifying a Gryffindor Secondary is this: is rule-breaking a tool? Or is it a personality trait?

Simon, who destroyed his whole life to get to River, and was willing to let Kaylee (the epitome of the innocent bystander) bleed out in order to keep his sister safe, is a Slytherin Primary. He looks slightly Puff occasionally—this is because he’s tied part of his worth to the Puff-like doctrine of a surgeon: service and "do no harm". You see it when he saves the patient on Ariel and then chews the attending physician out, offended to his core. These are beliefs he holds close to himself, that help define him—but at Simon’s core, no matter how Ravenclaw-clever or kindly, even bumblingly Hufflepuff he can seem, he puts his people first and he loses no sleep over that.

He’s got a Ravenclaw Secondary—asked to describe his usefulness, Simon would first and foremost claim his intelligence. The Ravenclaw Secondary, which likes systems and patterns (though not necessarily the ones presented to or expected from it) might be part of why the elegant simplicity of the surgeon’s creed appeals to him.

Simon’s got a Slytherin model on top of his Slytherclaw heart, which I suspect he learned from his dad. The Ravenclaw/Slytherin combo in the Secondary/model space (in either order) often looks a little bit like a criminal mastermind (or someone who wants to be one, anyway). When Simon is uncomfortable, falling back on his model, he starts to look a bit like a plotting villain—in the pilot, on Ariel, and at the beginning of "Serenity", the movie.

Zoe is a Gryffindor Primary who really likes Hufflepuffs (see: Mal, Wash). Like Mal, she’s been burned by the war. But Puff Primary Mal has become disillusioned by a cruel 'verse that requires you to abandon some people to save others. He has lost faith in both the fairness of the universe and his own ability to make it more fair. And Zoe, a burned or “stripped” Gryff, has lost faith in her own ability to tell right from wrong. She’s not deeply burned—more a light char—but instead of trusting her own gut these days, she trusts Mal’s. Her internal moral compass feels like it’s gone awry or silent. She feels lost. This is a Stripped Gryffindor, and it’s not uncommon for a Stripped Gryffindor to try to find their morality somewhere outside themselves. Zoe finds hers in Mal.

Part of it is that she knew him in the war when he was fearless, his Puff effortless, and because it’s easy for her to fall into the structured hierarchy of their roles—sergeant or captain. She has given him not just practical but also moral authority. She questions him, but she trusts him in the end, almost always. And, though it's framed within the “sir” and the war, the reason for it lies on the quality of Mal himself. Zoe would never give her allegiance to anyone who did not deserve it. But she feels she cannot trust her own internal compass, so instead she trusts Mal’s heart.

For Secondary: Zoe does not charge, comfort, or connive. She’s straightforward because it’s useful, not because it’s a moral imperative. Ravenclaw Secondary, I think—compare [Zoe] with Mal’s Gryff Secondary in the “tin of beans” flashback in "The Message". Where Mal shouts and hollers and charges—a different school of thought—Zoe is organized, efficient, deliberate (and deadly).

The way Inara freaks out and skedaddles when she realizes how important the Serenity crew (and esp. Mal) have become to her—that is a Slytherin Primary trying so hard to “petrify”. She’s mourning Nandi and she’s mourning herself, and she just wants everything to stop hurting.

Inara looks a lot like a Puff Secondary, because she performs Hufflepuff so damn well, but she’s actually a Slytherin Secondary. In her introductory scene, on the job, we get snatches of her inner thoughts while she smiles and pours tea. She’s sighing, shifting, rolling her eyes. There’s clearly a disconnect between how she feels about this man and what she’s doing.

A Slytherpuff Inara (which, on the very surface, would look very similar to most of her behaviour) would have to convince herself to “mean” the affection for her clients, even if only for the allotted time slot. Eye-rolling, internal or external, wouldn’t happen until she was back on the ship, curled up with Kaylee, telling stories, and that’s if the eye-rolling happened at all.

Inara talks like that, though—that she chooses people she ‘connects’ with, that kind of thing. She’s got a lot of respect and wishfulness when it comes to Hufflepuff, which I think is where she bonds best with Book—he performs Puff, too, and wishes that giving warmth was closer to his core.

When Inara’s with the crew, she tends to live in her Ravenclaw model, giving off an impression of precision, clarity, and certainty. Her Ravenclaw model and Mal’s Gryffindor Secondary, both strident Idealist houses, like to have sparring matches/bonding times while their Loyalist House Primaries make doe-eyes at each other. Dweebs.

Jayne Cobb displays neither a Slytherin Primary’s strong loyalty drive, a Hufflepuff’s need-based service, or a Ravenclaw’s Constructed, systematized morality. He appears to be a Gryffindor Primary whose Felt morality is “whatever I want.” If you read him really complexly, you could maybe imagine a Ravenclaw Primary there, who’s settled on that morality of self-serving ruthlessness. But moments like the one where he joins up with Serenity—he shoots both his buddies on Mal’s suggestion—suggest against that. The betrayal doesn’t make Ravenclaw any more unlikely than Gryffindor, but the instantaneous decision to make a moral choice he’d never considered or run through his system before suggests that his is an intuitive “gut” morality—just a really unsavory one.

His selfishness looks temptingly like a Slytherin Primary, but he lacks any of the loyalty. He’ll betray anyone, and it doesn’t seem to be because he’s Petrified—he still likes and bonds with people and cares not just practically but emotionally about what they think of him (his plea to Mal not to tell the others about his betrayal in Ariel). But when push comes to shove, he doesn’t seem to care. A Gryffindor, then, just an ugly one. Sorry, Gryffindors.

His Secondary, though, we think is Slytherin. He looks a lot like a blunt Gryffindor Secondary, but it’s just his Slytherin Secondary’s Neutral State, which he likes to live in and which shares the blunt and even abrasive honesty and delighted tactlessness of some Gryffindor Secondaries. When Jayne needs to lie, deceive, connive, or betray, he does it easily and without a touch of dismay. He schemes and jockeys for advantage. He’s a good example of the uglier stereotypes of a Slytherin Secondary. Sorry, Slytherins.

Kaylee Frye is a Gryffindor Primary like Jayne and Zoe, but where Jayne’s is self-serving and Zoe’s is quietly shattered, Kaylee’s shines bright through her Hufflepuff Secondary. She community-builds like nobody’s business and even her technical prowess is described in terms of intuitive empathy.

In the episode where they pick up Simon and River, she’s sitting outside Serenity asking people why she should let them onto her ship. Why they want to be on her ship. And the only answer she accepts, Book’s, is a philosophy of wandering and traveling that sits close to her heart. It’s a Gryffindor recognizing someone who looks to share her view of the world. It’s a Gryffindor who’s bonding over shared ideas and ideals. And what does she do with this information? She brings Book aboard the ship. ‘Welcome to the family, you share our philosophies, and I think we’ll get along great.’

One of the (many) ways she does her part on Serenity is by community building with people who are good, who are worth getting to know, who are interesting. Who aren’t just picking their ship because it’s a ship that they happened to see, but because they’re able to pick up on that something special that Kaylee values so much about Serenity.

Book is a Fallen Ravenclaw with a Slytherin Secondary and a Hufflepuff performance. He’s devoted himself to the truth of the Word, of the Bible, of his religion, in a Constructed way that is certainly prioritizing truth, and that’s one of the reasons that he bonds with River (who’s also a Ravenclaw Primary), but is also a little stressed when she’s gone through his book and pointed out all the contradictions and failures of it. Look at these patterns of numbers, she says, and Book says: wait no that’s my system of truth what are you doing to it.

His willingness to bend even his Ravenclaw rules, though, like when he shoots someone in the kneecap and shrugs off the “but you’re religious!” protests of the crew. The book didn’t say anything about that specific part of the body, so it’s fine. That’s a Slytherin Secondary playing the letter of the law if I’ve ever seen one. His truth never stopped being important to him, but he doesn’t feel bad for the compromise he made, either.

The kindness he shows, the adherence to fairness and kindness, is his Ravenclaw Primary deciding that it is proper and correct to treat people with the respect of a Hufflepuff. There’s an argument for that Hufflepuff being a model, actually, because of just how important that kindness seems to be to him, but he doesn’t seem to ever have moral issues with abandoning it temporarily. That might be part of his Slytherin Secondary, but it seems more likely to me that while his Ravenclaw has decided it’s very important for him to perform Hufflepuff, he doesn’t actually understand on a felt, intrinsic level why Hufflepuff is so important. It’s not close to his heart—it’s close to his truth.

Wash is a hard Sort, because you can read or not read so many different depths to him. Is he really as utterly transparent as he seems? He looks like a Hufflepuff Primary, but maybe he’s a Ravenclaw with a loud model—because if he’s a straight up Puff, then the boy wears his heart and thoughts on his sleeve all the time.

But Zoe has a pattern—she likes Puffs—so we’re gonna go with that. Wash really is that honest and straightforward, his emotions obvious on his face. I think someone with the sort of built layers that are easy (but not necessary) to read into Wash wouldn’t be the kind [of person] Zoe would fall in love with. She likes hearts that know what they’re doing, that are instinctual in their kindnesses. Wash is himself, all the time, and that self plays with dinosaurs, loves his wife, and headbutts with Mal over ethics with the thoughtless confidence of two Puffs who disagree.

Ravenclaw Secondary—he’s quirky, delights in sarcasm and wit even when what he’s trying to be is kind. His Puff center makes his Secondary look a lot warmer than Stripped Gryffindor Zoe’s Ravenclaw Secondary, but the fact that this couple shares a Secondary makes sense.

We think River was originally a Ravenclaw/Ravenclaw with a Slytherin model and a Ravenclaw performance—basically, as a kid she modeled Simon’s Slytherclaw. She’s not Slytherin, but she finds comfort in Slytherin loyalty and she often sees the world through that lens—an emphasis on interpersonal connection, a sense of “mine first,” and loyalties owed. By the time she’s on Serenity, however, she’s been rubbed so raw she doubts her Slytherin model. (“I didn’t think you’d come for me.” “Dummy,” says Slytherclaw Simon, who never could have done anything else.) And she has almost entirely dropped the show-off Claw performance of the little girl who corrected her big brother’s spelling. As the show goes on, she grasps more and more of her Slytherin model: she gets to bring back one of her layers, regain her trust in Simon’s Slytherin, rebuild her model of a world in which one universal truth is that her brother will always come for her.

But River’s drives and connection to the world are understanding it. She wants to know what’s going on, both in the observant, academic sense of the Ravenclaw Secondary and the more abstract Ravenclaw Primary—she’s looking for purpose, shoulds and shouldn’ts, for identity. A Slytherin Primary in her situation might have attached themselves to Simon like a baby sloth. A young Gryffindor might be reactive, responding with their gut, or perhaps cynical and shattered after their selves had been so invaded. In rebuilding, a Gryffindor would be looking for something inside themselves, a sense of solidity, a sense of purpose—River is looking outside. A Hufflepuff Primary might have clearer eyes for the people of the ship; but River views them with a detached interest. There is genuine affection there, but when it comes to River feeling steady in the world, she’s almost more interested in the engines than the crew—not their mechanics, but the beat of them. She’s a romantic sort of Ravenclaw Primary, sure, but she’s got a need for systems to build and inhabit. Her sense of reality has been shattered and the first thing that gives her some peace and stability is this: not safety, certainty, or community, but a sense of knowing what is going on.

River’s trying to figure out how this all works, and the heart of this show (because River more than any of them lives in the meta text) is Serenity.

River’s trying to find a base from which she can build. Her world, her models, and her ability to perceive and believe reality have been shattered. Mal pulls her back to the ship at the end of the last episode—it’s a homecoming, yes, but perhaps more than that he’s giving her a place to stand. That episode is easily Firefly’s most existential/meta, and it’s fitting that we start it with River detached from reality—ocean wave audio, mistaking a gun for a fallen branch, pushed to untrusted outskirts—and that we end it with River landing firmly, feet first, on Serenity, beaming through her suit visor.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Paging Healer Malfoy // Chapter Three - How To Save A Life (D.M.)

A/N: CHAPTER THREE! This is a loaded chapter. We see a lot of Draco’s centre as a Healer through this; we see just how his job affects him. So there’s a lot in this. This, so far, is my favourite chapter and I know I say that about everything I write, but I am so ridiculously happy with how this has turned out. So please, if you read, like/reblog/comment - let me know what you think whether it’s just a keyboard smash or a whole essay, I eat that stuff for breakfast, dinner, tea.

Summary: A promise Draco made to himself when he first became a Healer is broken - smashed to pieces in front of him, and he doesn't think he can fix it.

Warnings: angst, death, grief, a large time skip - looking at months, arguments, feelings, crying.

Word count: 4.3k

Prologue// Chapter One// Chapter Two

January gets off to an interesting start. It always does when Draco works the New Year’s shift; drunk witches and wizards entering the emergency room with alcohol poisoning or injuries they have no recollection of getting. (Y/N) had covered Christmas Day so he could spend it with his family, as per demanded by Narcissa, but he had covered Boxing Day and New Year’s to repay for that favour. He doesn’t mind it either; he would rather be working than sitting in his empty flat with nothing but his insomnia to keep him company.

Draco has always liked January; the idea of new beginnings sits with him, offering him the opportunity to start again from scratch and build himself up.

His New Year’s Resolution for this year is for him to finally be honest with (Y/N) about his feelings.

-------

January always brings with it the coldest weather despite the knowledge that spring is just around the corner. It brings with it red noses, warm scarves, and dragon’s breath.

He stands with Vera at the admit desk; going through their latest stock intake and what they would need to order more of if the flu season should continue well into February.

“Is that my favourite Healer?” A feminine voice sings out from behind them.

Draco spins around; a smile already crossing his face, “Violet! What are you doing here? Is isn’t a dialysis day?”

She shakes her head; holding up the pager she has carried with her since she was nineteen years of age, “I was sitting down to breakfast and this went off.”

Draco’s eyes grow wide, “It went off?”

Violet nods rapidly, “It went off, so I pushed my breakfast away, grabbed my suitcase and rang Jonathan from the tube.”

Draco claps his hands together in delight, “That’s great news. Did they say you were to get prepped down here?”

She nods, “A Dean Thomas rang me as I was on my way here. Told me to get the initial tests done here and then he’ll come fetch me when the kidney has arrived.”

Draco makes his way around the desk; holding out a hand for her to shake, “I’m so happy for you, Violet.”

“Thank you, Draco.”

He leads Violet into an empty exam room; making sure that there would be no-one to bother her as she waits for the green light to be taken upstairs.

“How are you feeling?” Draco asks quietly; calculating Violet’s blood pressure.

Violet releases a long sigh of relief, “Happy. Scared. Relieved. Nervous.”

Draco laughs, “That’s a lot for one person to be feeling.”

She smiles; eyes shining with unshed tears, “We’ve just been waiting for so long.”

And she has. Draco had treated her all those years ago when she was rushed in by her then-boyfriend Jonathan. Violet had been feeling ill for over a month; it had started with shortness of breath, and then she started losing weight but retaining water in her ankles and feet leaving them swollen as well as complaining about blood in her urine.

Having had enough, Jonathan rushed her to St. Mungo’s where Draco saw her and diagnosed her with kidney failure. She hadn’t even known she had kidney disease; feeling well enough to continue her active lifestyle and her work as a teacher.

From there, Draco had placed her on the transplant list – desperate for a match for a nineteen year old who still had her whole life to live. She hadn’t been out of Hogwarts a year; still very much a Ravenclaw through and through. After that, Draco had her assigned to dialysis which was where he saw her so often that a friendship struck up between him, her and Jonathan.

Draco finishes his examination of Violet; sending off samples of her blood to the lab to be checked for anything he hadn’t picked up. He smiles down at her, “I think you’re getting a new kidney today.”

The smile that breaks out across Violet’s face is blinding; pure happiness personified as if the very sun was sitting in this very exam room.

“Have you told Jonathan?”

Violet nods; her curls bouncing with the movement of her head, “He’s on his way. I think he’s more excited than I am.”

Draco laughs, “I can believe it. Alright, I’ll let you get settled whilst I go ring surgery and see how long it’s going to take.”

Violet smiles, and Draco briefly wonders whether her cheeks already hurt from the happiness shown on her face. “I’ll be back to see you soon,” He says as goodbye; heading straight for the nearest phone to pester Dean Thomas.

(Y/N) joins him at the admit desk a short while after Draco has left Violet.

“Will Dean be coming down to get her himself?,” A pause, “Thank you, Shirley,” Draco answers, putting down the phone.

“I see Violet is finally getting her transplant.”

Draco smiles; eyes flashing towards Violet in exam room four, “She’s been on the waiting list for over three years.”

“You’re happy for her?”

“I was the one to diagnose the kidney failure. She has been through numerous false alarms; the false hope of getting a kidney to find out its been donated elsewhere. I have sat with her through her dialysis when her fiancée couldn’t make it because of work. Yes, you could say I am happy for her.”

“You seem to have struck up quite a friendship,” She comments lightly; reading over an old chart.

Draco rolls his eyes, “It’s hard not when I see her so often and I’m her primary physician.”

(Y/N) sighs; not missing the undercurrent of warning in Draco’s tone, “Well I wish her all the best.”

---------

Dean Thomas had trained with Draco, but rather than continuing in the emergency room, Dean had chosen to go into surgery. He had done well for himself; he had quickly risen through the ranks on the surgical floor, having a knack for putting people back together again.

Arriving in the emergency room, Dean greets Draco with a large smile and a handshake, “It’s been too long, Malfoy. When are you next coming out with the lads?”

Draco laughs, “When Weasley can admit he can’t handle his firewhisky.”

“So never then?”

Both men laugh. Thinking back to the same night where Ron had gotten so drunk on the stuff that he performed his and Hermione’s song outside their window at nearing three in the morning. Other than disturbing the nightlife of urban London, Ron had woken up a very sleep-deprived Hermione.

Dean shakes his head; still chuckling, “How’s our patient?”

Draco smiles, “Brilliant. The perfect candidate; all her tests came back with no signs of trouble.”

Dean rubs his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear. Where is she?”

“Exam room four. I’ll take you there now.”

In the time that Draco has made his phone calls and seen other patients, Violet’s fiancée, Jonathan has arrived with a bouquet of pale pink roses, it seems. He stands upon the entrance of Dean and Draco but does not let his hand leave Violet’s. He smiles at both of them, “Draco, Healer Thomas – this is it, huh?”

Dean nods; smiling, “This is it,” He looks towards Violet, “How are we feeling? Are you ready?”

Violet nods once; firm, decided, “I’m ready.”

-----

Dean helps the porters move Violet to the surgical floor; Jonathan following with his bouquet of pale pink roses, whispering words of luck quietly. It’s a touching sight to see; the love they feel for each other written so clearly over their faces.

Draco knows (Y/N) joins him to watch them take Violet up; it’s hard to ignore her presence, the usual scent of lilies and citrus wafting over him, sending his heart racing.

“She’ll be okay, Draco,” (Y/N) murmurs; her eyes on the couple waiting to get into the lift.

Draco nods; turning to face (Y/N), “I know she will.”

(Y/N) reaches out to poke his cheek, “Then look like you believe it.”

Draco catches her finger with his hand; holding onto it for a minute, “I do believe it.”

Something passes over (Y/N)’s face that Draco can’t define; he drops her finger, clearing his throat at the strange atmosphere that has settled over them. “How busy are you today?” He asks, in the hopes of dispelling the awkward fog between them.

(Y/N) shakes her head as if coming out of a trance, “Not overly. Four patients so far and a capable trainee not demanding my attention every minute. Why do you ask?”

Draco shrugs, “Wanted to see if you would be free for lunch in an hour or two.”

(Y/N) smiles, “I’ll make time for you, Draco.”

Draco places a hand on his heart, “Then I should be so grateful as to buy the lunch.”

(Y/N) grins wickedly, “If you’re paying then I’m definitely making time.”

Draco gasps and (Y/N) starts to laugh in earnest; covering her mouth as she snorts. She shakes her head, laughing fit subsiding, “Let me know when you’re free and we’ll grab some food.”

He smiles at her, “Sounds like a plan.”

(Y/N) touches his shoulder, her fingers lingering, before leaving; needing to see patients and catch up on charts as well as keeping an eye on her trainee. A simple touch and it sends Draco’s heart rate through the roof; such a gentle touch but one that felt like it held so much promise. It had lingered slightly, and Draco wondered whether that was how lovers touched each other when saying goodbye. Either way, he so desperately wanted to know. He thinks back to his New Year’s Resolution; beginning to think that just maybe it’s time to tell the truth.

Draco shakes his head at the plan starting to form in his head; of questions and answers, of dimly lit restaurants and kisses against front doors. With a yearning filled sigh, he goes in search of a trainee, needing a distraction from his wandering mind.

Jude Prewett had proved herself highly independent within her first week of working in the emergency room; having hailed from a long line of Healers, she understood the role she played, but also lived with a huge weight on her shoulders in trying to fill shoes that had been worn so many times before.

Draco finds her with a patient; gathering their history before asking any further questions for their visiting St. Mungo’s today.

She startles slightly at his presence in the room, but soon settles quickly. “What do we have, Healer Prewett?”

“Jonah Ashford, 67 years old. He complains of shortness of breath upon initial examination.”

Draco nods; happy so far, “What have you gathered from his history?”

Jude raises an eyebrow, but nevertheless, continues, “Mr. Ashford has a history of asthma along with brief spells of dizziness that come on suddenly. These spells tend to last fifteen minutes each time and come and go when they please.”

Draco leans against the wall; happy to let Jude continue, “What are you thinking first?”

“He isn’t having an asthma attack though he does need a refill of his medication which I will give him a prescription for. I am concerned about the dizziness and how often it comes on.”

Draco looks towards the patient, “When was your last dizzy spell, Mr. Ashford?”

Mr. Ashford frowns; thinking back, “Last night.”

Draco nods, “Are you getting enough to eat and drink?”

Mr. Ashford looks down, “I try, but I find it hard to remember. My wife, Lacey, used to cook and clean. I lost her last year, and it’s been hard to find a routine when everything reminds me of her.”

Both Draco and Jude nod understandingly; both sad at Mr. Ashford’s story though it’s something they see often. Widows who simply desire company; who can no longer sit in their empty houses and watch time tick by.

“Have you got this?” Draco asks Jude. She nods; eyebrows furrowed as if to say she had this before he interrupted.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ashford,” Draco hears Jude say, “I won’t be a moment.”

Draco pauses outside the exam room; letting Jude catch-up to him. “Healer Malfoy?” She asks.

“Yes, Jude?”

“Is it just me you’re checking in on?” Jude asks; concern lacing her voice.

Draco shakes his head with a smile, “I check in on everyone. I’m checking on Healer Shannon after this. Don’t worry, Jude. You’re doing well.”

Jude relaxes and smiles; relief now evident in her tone, “Alright. Thanks, Healer Malfoy.”

Draco laughs, “It’s fine, Jude. Go,” He nods towards Mr. Ashford, “Continue with your patient.”

Making his rounds of the floor, Draco is relieved to see that the trainees are more than content to work with supervision from their assigned attendings. No complaints from either parties which makes Draco’s life a little easier when it comes to the reviews in just a couple of weeks.

He starts to collect patients to keep his mind off ringing the surgical floor immediately. He rings once, and they update him – Violet has just gone in, it looks to be going to fine, and then he makes himself wait to ring again.

“Draco,” Her voice sings; pulling him from his daydreaming as he sits at the admit desk.

He checks his watch, then checks the clock hung on the wall, “Is it that time already?”

(Y/N) nods; a large smile on her face, “And I do believe you said you would pay.”

He pats his pocket, checking for his wallet, “I do believe I said that. Come on then, let’s go eat.”

She hooks her arm through his. Draco has to resist the urge to pull her in further; to kiss her senseless. “I’m fancying chips, what about you?” She asks; ripping him from his yearning.

He shrugs, “I’ll have to have a look when we get there.”

She frowns, “Are you still worried?”

Draco shakes his head, “No. I’m not,” Then he smiles, “But I am hungry, so hurry your butt up, will you?”

(Y/N) snorts but fastens her pace, nonetheless.

--------

After the third time, Draco rang the surgical floor, they refused to accept any calls from him. Instead, ghosting his calls in order to annoy him further. Draco hadn’t worried; not through lunch with (Y/N) and not as he continues to see patients.

Draco can’t help but continue to glance at the clock; it has been well over the allotted time to complete a kidney transplant. Worry now settles deep within Draco’s gut, but he tries to remain positive as he flits about the emergency room; taking on as many cases as possible in order to keep the worry at bay.

It’s when he sees Dean get off the lift that Draco has any idea what’s happened. Dean looks tired and beaten down; as if all the fight has left him through the last few hours. With a nod of his head, Dean gestures to an empty exam room for Draco to join him in.

Taking a deep breath, Draco steels himself for what he’s about to hear. He knew Dean’s tactics from training and from seeing him work on the surgical floor; he would never let anyone else deliver the news of a patient to friends and family.

From the expression on Dean’s face, it doesn’t look to be good news, “Draco, I’m sorry.”

Draco nods; sadness settling like a boulder in his gut, “What happened?”

Dean looks reluctant to say, but he sighs and replies, “Cardiac arrest two hours in. We tried for half an hour to bring her back.”

All his life, Draco had seen signs that witches and wizards were not immortal – he had survived a devastating war; he worked in a profession where death stalked the halls like a hunter finding its prey. And yet, he had hope for Violet. He had hope that the transplant would be a success and she would go on to live a long and healthier life with her fiancée.

In the span of a single surgery; the hope had been crushed by the skeletal hands of the reaper that wanders the halls of the hospital, collecting souls.

Dean claps Draco on the shoulder in what is supposed to be an offer of comfort, but it does little to quash the growing sense of loss Draco feels.

“If you need anything,” Dean starts in kindness before giving up and saying, “I knew you two had a friendship.”

Draco nods silently; watching Dean had for the stairs. Throughout his career, Draco had never let himself get close to a patient. Sure, there were those who he saw regularly. The frequent flyers, the pain potion seekers, Mrs Larkin – a widow who needed company more than she needed medical treatment. However, Violet came in so frequently for dialysis that it felt almost inevitable they would end up on friendly terms.

Draco rubs a hand down his face; feeling almost devastated at this loss of such a young life.

Needing to be alone – if only for a moment – Draco enters the break room, taking calming breaths. He feels ridiculous; letting a patient’s death affect him this much when he had been at the deathbed for so many – young, old, infant.

He’s so caught up in his emotions, he doesn’t hear the door open. Draco startles slightly at the sound of her voice calling his name.

“I heard what happened,” She murmurs comfortingly – her hand outstretched as if to offer support.

Draco clears his throat; dislodging the lump that has taken root there, “Yes. It’s a sad loss.”

“Are you okay though? I know that you two were close.”

Draco looks down to the chart in his hands; a patient still needing to be seen. He smiles humourlessly, “It’s always sad to lose a patient, no matter how long you’ve been doing this.”

(Y/N) frowns, “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

Draco throws his arms wide; emotions bubbling to the surface, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She throws her hands up in surrender. Her voice is laced with frustration as she answers, “Fine. Keep it bottled up.”

(Y/N) slams the door as she leaves the break room; making her anger known. Draco, for a brief moment, loses his temper, sending his fist into the door of his locker. It does a little to curb the wave of grief submerging him, but the wave doesn’t ebb. Draco rests his head against the cool, gunmetal grey door of his locker, taking in deep breaths.

He gives himself a minute.

One minute. That’s all he gets to feel it all; to let the loss consume him. To feel the guilt and the sadness.

The minute passes and Draco stands straight. He pushes his hair back from his face and straightens his lab coat.

Clearing his throat, Draco leaves the break room, needing to continue working.

-------

It’s hard to miss the pitying look from the nurses as Draco continues to work; as if the entire floor has decided to walk on eggshells around him.

He continues to work because he needs to; he has no grounds to leave work – it wasn’t a family member he had lost; it was a patient. That was how he was rationalising it in his head. It was just that Violet had been his patient for three years; seeing her so frequently.

Draco shakes his head; ridding himself of the dark thoughts that threaten to break through.

He continues to work because that’s who he is. Through Draco’s adolescence, he found himself being defined by what others thought of him and his family. He was bending to a self-fulfilling prophecy that he didn’t want thrust upon him.

Through his first week as a trainee Healer, Draco found himself redefining every aspect of himself. He did not have to present the hard, touch exterior that his family and fellow students expected of him at Hogwarts. Rather, Draco found himself to be someone who could be soft; who could laugh and joke with the best of them. He found himself to be someone who wanted to help people in their time of need; in their most vulnerable state when all they need is someone to trust and someone to listen.

As he takes on more and more patients, it’s because he needs to work. He has to work through this; he doesn’t often show how death affects him so, but on some level, he had known Violet. He just didn’t expect her death so soon.

Focusing intently on the charts in his hand, Draco blinks away the tears threatening to fall. With a deep breath and a fake smile, he enters exam room two, ready to meet another patient.

--------

Violet’s fiancée, Jonathan, approaches him a few hours after her death. His face is tear stained and puffy as he clears his throat to gain Draco’s attention from a conversation with Nurse Janice.

“Jonathan,” Draco greets, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Jonathan nods wordlessly; blinking fast to get ready of the already building tears. He clears his throat again, “I just,” He takes a deep breath, “I just came down to thank you.”

“For what?” Draco asks; confused.

Jonathan lets his tears fall, saying, “For sitting with her when the dialysis was draining her, and for helping her laugh. For keeping her company when I couldn’t be there because of work.”

A lump forms in Draco’s throat, “That isn’t something you have to thank me for.”

Jonathan shrugs, “Regardless, thank you.” He turns to walk away but he pauses at the last minute, “Would you come to the memorial? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think it would mean to a lot to her family if they met you.”

Draco nods; not even second-guessing his answer, “Of course. Let me know the details and I’ll get it off work.”

Jonathan nods; his face puffier than before from the freshly fallen tears. He holds his hand up in a wave before leaving St. Mungo’s.

-----

How Draco makes his way home is beyond him. He works the rest of his shift in a stupor; the all too familiar heaviness of grief settling over him for which he feels foolish and ridiculous. 

He doesn’t feel the rain that soaks him through to the bone. He doesn’t remember entering his flat; doesn’t remember shedding his coat, letting his bag fall to the floor. Sitting on the couch, Draco submits to the grief. He submits to overwhelming sense of loss battering his walls; demanding to be felt.

On the inside, Draco is a storm; raging, raging, raging.

On the outside, he’s as calm as anything, staring at the mantle piece as he lets himself finally feel.

---------

Draco’s building was one of the many converted mills in London; brown bricked and grand, it stood proudly on its street, wearing its history like a badge of honour. His flat is on the fifth floor; one of the largest in the building – a gift from his parents after completing his training with high honours. He had lived there ever since, and (Y/N) had visited often over the years of their friendship.

(Y/N) knocks three times, calling his name with each one before she tries the door.

Entering his flat, (Y/N) always takes a moment to admire the pictures that line the wall. Admiring the beauty of Draco’s mother, and almost flinching at the imposing figure his father presents.

This time, however, she marches straight past them, calling Draco’s name for him not to reply.  She only knew to come over here when he hadn’t met her to catch the tube together like they usually did when their shifts coincided. The words she flung at him earlier, she hadn’t meant. They had settled in her bones with an uncomfortable feeling; leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Truthfully, she had been worried about Draco since the news of Violet’s death had made its way to her ears; the gossip chain of the emergency room never one to falter.

She finds Draco on his couch; still wearing the clothes he left work in. Dropping her bag and shrugging off her coat, (Y/N) takes a seat next to Draco on the couch. He barely registers her presence; barely even blinking at the change of weight. She tries not to let it hurt her, but it does. Seeing him like this… it was something she hadn’t ever seen before.

Draco always presented himself as collected. The most dishevelled he ever got was whenever he worked nights and for most of the week, he would sport stubble. However, that was always gone by the time he came back onto day.

This was something new, though. His grief wasn’t anything she had encountered, and though they spoke often and told each other they cared for one another, they had never truly spoken about the feelings between them.

She coaxes his head onto her shoulder, and it’s there that Draco lets the first of his tears fall and the first of his sobs escape his chest.

He has seen death. He’s courted it for years – through the war, through his job. He has had patients die om him and had mourned each of their deaths, but he had never felt loss this keenly before. He felt scrubbed raw from the inside out.

He doesn’t know how long he cries for; he doesn’t know how long she holds him for but somewhere in between in it all, he manages to choke out his thanks which she hurriedly hushes. Her response being to hold onto him tighter.

Time passes, and his sobs start to slow, but they do not let go of the other, needing their anchors more than anything in this moment. In the pain of it all, Draco finds solace in sleep.

**********

Paging Healer Malfoy taglist: @sycathorn-slush @obsessedwithrandomthings @kpopgirlbtssvt @kalimagik @brycelahelalover @fallinallinmendes @mischi3f-manag3d @remmysrecs @willowbleedsonpaper @nao-cchi @haphazardhufflepuff @soundsquid27 @mytreec @maydillydally @chaoticgirl04 @pregnant-piggy @rhyxn @acciotwinz @birdie-writes @reaganwonders @chanelwonders @izzytheninja @ravenclawbitch426 @ohissandhalasta @missmulti @nebulablakemurphy @pointlesscoconut @cherrylita @harpersmariano​ @slytherinlovesgryffindor​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl​ @detroitobsessed​ @reaganwonders​ @sophia-gwendolyn​

***if your username is in bold, I was unable to tag you.

[teena-rps]

ᴘᴏᴘᴘʏ ᴘᴏᴍꜰʀᴇʏ · 33 · ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴍᴀᴛʀᴏɴ · ꜰᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ · ꜱᴛʀᴀᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ

❝ she was one of those girls who breathed fire when confronted but loved so gently that it made you forget she could. ❞

ᴀᴇꜱᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ;

peter pan collars; swing skirts; delicate lace; brushing fingers through tall grass; whiskey in a tea cup; pressed flowers; butterfly wings; chocolate squares; knitting needles working quietly; warm tea on a cold day; always carrying plasters; lavender; hand-written notes; sweet cream; ruffles; the smell of antiseptic; cool fingers; slim gold chains; leather-bound journals; protruding collarbones; mary janes with socks; pomegranate seeds; embroidered cardigans; homemade preserves

ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʟᴇʟꜱ;

jane eyre; anna bates; katara; ann perkins; elinor dashwood; meg march; eliza hamilton; dr allison cameron; dana polk; rosalind walker; linda martin; jane villanueva; dr sara tancredi; joan watson; marge simpson; jane bennet; clarice sterling; james gordon; catelyn stark; sailor mercury; molly hooper

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ;

born to a half-blood witch and a squib physician; grew up in a small irish village with her father; sorted into ravenclaw; good grades but unremarkable presence; knitting club member; frequent library haunter; became matron after training at st mungo's; very good at her job; lost her father in her mid-20s; keeps helping out at the village; very unimpressed that she's still matron, unmarried & lonely after a decade at the school; order supporter but professionally neutral and oath-bound to help anyone who asks

ᴛʀᴀɪᴛꜱ;

calm; strict; kind; quick-witted; quiet; caring; sensitive; protective; withdrawn; understanding; pliable; forgiving; trusting; soft; hospitable; dependable; discreet; tender; humble, thoughtful; impressionable; indecisive; responsible; cautious; loyal; undemonstrative; trustworthy; open-minded; idealist; fair; emotional; strong sense of self-preservation; demanding; jealous; possessive; polemic; intuitive; perceptive; subtle; crafty; insecure; sentimental; hard-working; gentle

ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ;

· several friends to pull her around, probably other hogwarts staff (gimme support staff bff irma maybe??) · former students that she still keeps up with and pesters like a mother · the auror/hit-wizard/witch she's been pining over for like a decade (listen i have a lot of screaming to do about this bc who doesn’t love some long, mutual pining, and self-sacrifice between hypocritical idiots?? and i’m not saying paranoid moody or disappearing dearborn would work gr8 for this, but they would, but poppy is also bi af so totally open to strong ladies for this too) · a slew of people that she will have/have had crushed on in the past & future · order members she's healing on the down-low · people of questionable morals she's also healing on the super down-low · tba

[hands-dripping-ink]

Tag game: Tag 10 followers you want to get to know better

Tagged by @truth-lies-hidden Thank you so much I would love to know you better too

Name: Esha(please pronounce it eee-sha or else I wil indeed bury you alive)

Sexuality: Not sure yet

Gender: Female

Hogwarts House: Griffindor(I've also gotten Ravenclaw and Slytherin a lot of times but mostly Griffindor)

Time: 9:46 a.m.

Cats or dogs: Doggos🐶

Favorite Animals: Wolves

Dream Job: Writer of my own fiction/fantasy novel... Or a physician

When I made this blog: I think it's been 2 months

Reasons for my url: friendlyneighborhood refers to the spiderman movie and reader cause I reeeeead(I might change my url soon)

Tagging: @silent-nerd @coffeeflavoredtears525600 @emablckthrn @simon-lewis-is-a-skinny-legend @christopherlightwood @saccharine-sunflower-seeds @khaled7mrah @the-lanky-author @fairchild-blackthorn @hkthreethousand

[blris96]

17 Questions, 17 People

Thanks for the tag @brettsiexcasey

Nicknames: B

Zodiac: Capricorn

Height: 5′8″

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Last Thing I Googled: The transcript for 4x10: Heart Beat

Followers: 35. I’ve been on tumblr a bit, but just recently started blogging. Thank you for following!

Song Stuck in My Head: Roller Coaster by Bon Jovi (very catchy)

How Much Sleep: 4-6 Hours

Lucky Number: 13 (Yes, I know! It has been for a long time!)

Dream Job: Physician Assistant

Wearing: Dark wash skinny jeans with a thick striped sweater

Favorite Song: It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘N’ Roll) by AC/DC. I listen to a ton of other things too with the exception of rap

Favorite Instrument: Violin

Aesthetic: No clue, but my style is classic with a bohemian twist

Favorite Author: Haven’t done a lot of reading lately

Favorite Animal Noise: Owl

Something Random: Not really sure if it’s random, but my favorite color is purple

tagging: @fuzzywuzzywuzzawriter @keepdreaming43 @dedlund82 @cfr749 @poppypickle @siahana @sylvies-chen @luminouswriter @heatherelf77 @linspins @a-star-upon-her-brow @starjumpingpanda @hopefulpatrolnight @emilynthephoto 

(I can’t think of more off the top of my head, but anyone who follows me is welcome to do this! Or, you can disregard if you have already done this or something like this!)

[stan-of-many]

In my opinion by far the biggest thing keeping Harry Potter and Merlin from being in the same universe just in different time periods is that Harry Potter Merlin is canonly a Slytherin and BBC Merlin is the farthest thing from a Slytherin you can get. Like clever? Cunning? He’d certainly like to think so, but in reality the only reason BBC Merlin gets away with so much is that everyone around him is honestly just that unobservant. And ambitious? ALL HE WANTED WAS TO BE THE PHYSICIAN’S APPRENTICE BUT NOOO FATE GOTTA DRAG HIM INTO A BUNCH OF CRAP and also he’s the most powerful person on the planet and only uses his power to secretly protect people he cares about. So yeah, I personally think bbc Merlin’s a Ravenclaw (though hufflepuff makes sense too), but he definitely sure as heck ain’t a Slytherin.

[theroundbartable]

So what happened to the Castle of Camelot?

One day, Arthur, Morgana and Gwen were reborn.

Morgana, of course, became evil once more, talked to snakes etc. Etc

She now he, was still fighting with his brother, the reborn Arthur (who was still a sucker for swords).

Gwen, as the beautiful smartie she is, tried to fix their fight, but failed.

Merlin, more for a joke really, changed his gender because he can and relied on education and intelligence rather than ... Anything else really.

Long story short, the four friends build what we now know as Hogwarts. You know who is who

[deep-sky-blue]

Rules: answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by @jazthespazz ! Nickname: Juju, July 

Zodiac sign: Cancer (it’s my birthday today !)

Height: 160 cm

Hogwarts house : Ravenclaw

Last thing I googled: My father’s name, he’s a physician and he told me he has the picture of a random old bald man associated with his cabinet’s address on google so I checked it out to have a laugh

Favourite musician: I don’t think I have any, my brother is a professional drummer so I suppose he is

Song stuck in my head: Hey Sunshine – Rare Americans

Followers: 92, including lots of porn blogs for some reason

Following: Omg only 84, thought I had more ! I always see the same people reblogging from the sames blogs so it’s not easy for me to find new people to follow

Amount of sleep: 8 hours per night is the bare minimum for me, otherwise I simply turn my alarm off without remembering 

What are you wearing? A pretty teal/green jumpsuit with coral flowers, round mettalic blue glasses and earrings made with turquoise stone

Lucky numbers: 2 I guess ?

Dream job: Veterinarian, I also love my job (I’m an OT)

Dream trip: Any wildlife park

Favourite instruments: Piano ! I’m a piano player but I’m too nervous to play in front of anybody

Languages: I’m French so I obviously am fluent in French, I’m good in English in order to survive on the internet and because I grew with anime only subbed in that langage, I studied Spanish at school but forgot most of it

Favourite songs: I like so many different styles, my playlist has no constancy ! I could have added many Disney songs but here are a few other things I’m into :

Caravan Palace – Lone digger https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbsBEb1ZxWA

Aurora – The seed https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUIIkBZVzTU

Juniper Vale – Singing in the rain https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBOtZ_oJNV4

Thérapie Taxi – Hit sale https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOyIJl6N5y4&list=PL_CN5T4QRB_CUJsMIPKqkknDC1Odsu8o9&index=1

Part Time Friends – Fire https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InEWwlFVBvM&list=RDMM&index=3

CRX – Broken bones https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28T5N7Z-02c

Lord Huron – The night we met https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtlgYxa6BMU

Daft Punk – Something about us https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=em0MknB6wFo

Favourite authors: I don’t really have one but I liked their books : Christelle Dabos, Ai Yazawa, Leigh Bardugo

Favourite animal sound: I basically love every sound that involves an animal (except fly/mosquitos songs haha), the most magical song I heard was a pack of wolves howling, but I also love to hear my cats purring, my rabbit eating its vegetables, plus I volunteer at a wildlife rehabilitation center every week and when baby birds are screaming for food it melts my heart… Ugh I don’t know ! I’m an animal person to the core, could talk about it for hours

Random fact: I’ve teached my dog (beagle) how to take off socks for absolutely no reason

Aesthetic: I’ve never thought about that actually. I like when things have a hidden/deeper meaning that makes you think about it for a few more days and gets you emotional. I also crave for empathy in its every form, does that count ?

Now I’m tagging @hisanakubi , @flufs, @i-peed-so-hard-i-laughed , @actual-queen-josephine  and @mickey42315 , only if you want to do it of course

[nerdyneurologist]

I’ve been tagged!

Tag 10 followers you want to know better!

Thank you @melody-studyblr​ for the tag! I’m new here and it’s exciting that someone knows I exist lol!! 

Name: Sarah

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Female

Hogwarts House: I’ve been diagnosed as both Ravenclaw and Slytherin depending on my mood... 

Time: 6:36AM

Cats or Dogs?: I’m allergic to both so I can’t do either. Dogs make me smile, cats have my respect as the more severe death machine since any cat will entirely clog up my airways.

Favorite Animal: I love elephants, foxes, pandas, tigers and monkeys. 

Dream Job: Physician, probably something within neuro. I’d love to get in to neuroradiology. 

When I made this blog: Earlier this month! Love the studyblr community and all the great inspiration and absolutely jaded quotes everyone posts!

Reasons for my url: Major - Neuroscience, and well... nerd kinda describes itself and me, hence the url. 

Tagging: @zxmed, @unproductivx, @d-studies-medicine, @mooniesdonuts, @hideerie, @jomiagaming, @ecmgh, @mvgicvll, @bookbutterfly1999, @andrear0mo