#red pocket watch for folie à deux

[amaliatheartist]

What is there between us, if not a little annihilation?

[writer-darling]

Folie à Deux

READ PART 1 HERE

Rating: T - TEENS (13+)

Pairing: Marcus Pike (The Mentalist, 2008) x GN!Reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader. Pre-established relationship. Post-breakup. Whole lotta angst. Cursing. Mentions of being drunk. Love confessions. Crying. Marcus done goofed big time and he knows it. Reader is stubborn but still loves him. Lotta groveling. Poor Marcus gets ragged on but tbh he kinda deserves it. Teresa Lisbon slander. Both Marcus and Reader are touch-starved (it’s my favorite trope, leave me alone). If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary!: Inspired by Pedro’s “For All the Lovesick Mad Sad Geniuses” monologue for The 24 Hours Plays channel on Youtube

******

You wish you could say that you stormed your way into his apartment, guns blazing, and demanded to talk to him. In reality, you almost chickened out halfway to his place. But you knew that if you didn’t go now, you’d absolutely never go again. And you needed to see him. You needed to talk to him. You park behind his Grand Jeep Cherokee and take a second to calm the nerves in your gut. His lights are off and you begin to think maybe he’s asleep already. Oh well.  

You step out of the car, walk across the small lawn, and knock on his door. Waiting a couple of minutes, there’s no sign of him being inside. That doesn’t stop you from knocking again.

“Oh, I’ve been looking for that shirt.” That’s the first thing out of his mouth when he opens the door, his eyes fixated on your torso before meeting your eyes. You roll them in response to his nonchalance and push your way past him into the house.

“What the hell kind of game are you playing, Marcus?” His dark brows draw together in confusion as he closes the door behind you both as you turn to face each other.

“I’m, um, not-not playing a game. I just missed you.” He admits. He’s still buzzed, but his speech pattern is a little more stable and he doesn’t look as crazed as he did in the video. Still, you know it’s from tonight. He’s wearing the same white t-shirt with the red bullseye and his facial hair is as long and unkempt as it was then.

“You miss me?” You ask, scoffing.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” He asks, his hands in his grey sweatpants’ pockets. 

“Uh yeah, considering you’re the one who broke up with me.” You reply, your eyes turning to slits as you give him your nasiest death glare. He grimaces, looking down.

“I-I know, honey I’m sorry. I should have never-”

“Don’t call me that.” You cut him off, the pet name just feeling like salt on the wound. After not hearing it for so long, it stings, sitting like acid in the back of your mouth. He nods, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and glancing up at you.

“Right, um sorry. Force of habit.”

“Why did you send me this video? To mess with me?” You ask. You hold your phone up to him with the text thread open. 

“What? No, of course not. I um, I just thought that uh maybe I could… Jesus, I don’t know, get all my feelings out without bothering you. You made it clear on the day we broke up you never wanted to see me again, and I stayed away. But I- fuck, I just missed you so much. I… I needed to see you. I knew if I sent that video, you would come.” He moves closer and you take a step back, even placing a palm up to warn him to stay away. He respects that and moves back again, even as his eyes lock with yours, pleading with you. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, pacing in place. He continues on, watching as you move in a small circle back and forth.

“It’s pathetic, I know. But, I just-” He swallows, unable to stop himself from taking another, smaller step towards you. “Really fucking missed you.” You scoff.

“You’re right: it is pathetic.” You respond, stopping in your tracks with venom in your voice. He doesn’t argue. You sigh, running a hand down your face. “I shouldn’t have come here, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” You take a step towards the door but he moves, not towards you but placing half of himself between you and the door.

“But you came. You’re here. Please, don’t go.” He pleads, still keeping distance between you two but you notice his body twitching with the urge to cross the room towards you. You cross your arms over your chest defensively in response to that.

“Marcus-”

“Breaking up was a mistake. I never, uh, never-never meant to hurt you, I never meant for things to turn out like this between us. I-I- shit - I was a fucking idiot to ever break up with you, and I’m sorry for everything.” He looks like he’s about to drop to his knees and your heart tugs at the sight. You’re silent for a few moments, letting the pause linger between you two.

“What about Teresa?” You ask. He’s shaking his head.

“It’s-It’s over. She never wanted me, and I knew it the moment I tried to make it work with her again..” He insists, but he can tell you don’t believe him “I knew she was only playing me. But I still fell for it. I wanted to believe that she cared about me like I used to care about her but uh, I guess she didn’t. And-And I tried to love her like before, but I couldn’t. I knew I wanted you.” His eyes flick up to your again. “I ended it months ago, I swear.”

“Swearing isn’t gonna just fix things, Marcus. Neither is some drunk excuse to see me.” You respond.

“Then what will? Tell me, please, Christ I-I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything? Gee, why don’t you pay for my next $100-dollar-an-hour therapy session?? Or uh I know, how about giving me the last ten miserable months of my life back??” Your tone is cruelly sardonic, but you don’t care. You’ve been through hell for almost a year and he never once tried to reach out until now. He still doesn’t argue, just gives you those same sad eyes, and that makes you angrier. “You broke my fucking heart, Marcus. And what’s worse is: you did it for your fucking ex.” The ex that practically used him as a rebound. The ex that broke his heart and then threw it away at the last possible second like yesterday’s garbage. No tears come this time, and you’re glad for it. You don’t want him to see you cry.

“I know I did, and I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. So, let me make it up to you. Let me show you that I won’t ever make that mistake again.” He tentatively approaches you, his eyes searching you for any sign that you still want him to stay away. You don’t though, your resolve lessening, and that gives him courage. He places his hands on your upper arms, still moving as slowly as he can. When you don’t push him or step away, one corner of his mouth turns up into a small smile. “I’m an idiot and an asshole and I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“No, you don’t.” You say, but the anger in your voice is gone, visible shivers going down your back from his touch. He brightens up a bit at that, a hopeful glimmer in his eye.

“I know… Stay, please? Even if it's just for tonight? Please?” He asks again. He uses your ultimate weakness, rubbing open-palmed from your elbows up to your shoulders. You shiver again, the warmth of his hands making you lose your focus, even making you shut your eyes. Damn, you really had missed him. “Please, honey, stay with me. Let me make it all up to you.” 

You shouldn’t do this. Giving him another chance would destroy you, wouldn’t it? And, shit what does this say about you?? Going back to an ex just like him. It’s stupid, pointless! But ever since stepping into his place, since even seeing him, you’ve been itching with the urge to touch him too. To be near him again. He waits as you think, his eyes scanning your body language, your face, for any inclination to what you’re thinking. Finally, you make your decision. You open your eyes and meet his gaze. 

“You can start by taking a shower because you smell like a fucking liquor store.” You respond, stepping away from him. Your tone isn’t angry or cruel, just serious. Your body immediately misses him. He grins wide, and immediately turns to go, not even giving you time to change your mind. That doesn't stop you from speaking up though, "Marcus?"

"Yes?" He asks, looking at you from over his shoulder.

"The facial hair looks good on you." His grin returns, wider this time, and he goes.

 Your attention zeroes in on him the moment you hear the shower shut off. When he exits the bathroom after a few more minutes, he’s sobered up and smelling like his tea tree oil shampoo. You’ve been sitting on the couch, waiting for him. You’re exhausted now, this rollercoaster of emotions draining you more than you could’ve expected.  

“Better?” He asks, making you take a good look at him. The healthy post-shower flush gives his skin a glowing rosiness, his hair is slicked back, water droplets plopping down the fabric of the dark blue t-shirt he’s wearing. His brown eyes are no longer glassy or red-rimmed, making him look more alert. He’s kept the facial hair, though it’s trimmed and neat now, making him look less disheveled. Your eyes can’t stop themselves from travelling down further, taking in the planes and angles of his body. The urge to touch him again overtakes you and he notices, smirking a little. You avert your eyes, sighing and standing up. 

“It’ll do for now.” You respond. You walk over to his linens closet and open it up, grabbing some extra blankets and one of the extra pillows he has in there. He stays quiet, until you begin spreading one of the blankets out on the couch.

“What are you doing?” He asks as he watches you..

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m setting up the couch so I can get some sleep.”

“What?? No, absolutely not. Go to the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He says, making a grab for the other blanket.

“Marcus-”

“Go.” He says, his voice soft but unwavering as he meets your eyes. You give him a long look but he just smiles, nodding in encouragement towards the bedroom. “C’mon, for me, hon.” You reluctantly let the blanket go, into his hands. You’re too tired to argue anymore. You take a few steps towards the bedroom, but pause when the scent of him wafts over to you from the open bathroom. You turn to look at him over your shoulder.

“Come to bed with me.” It’s not a question, and he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately walking over. 

“Are you sure?” He asks. You decide to be honest, shaking your head as you grab his hand in yours and guide him to the bedroom.

“No.” You give him a tentative smile and he returns it, nodding and following along quietly.

There’s a brief moment before fully waking up that makes you think this is another dream. Another perfect subconscious scenario where you wake up in Marcuses’ arms and you’re perfectly happy. Right before there’s literally a rude awakening and you’re forced to ignore the hollow sadness in your chest for the rest of the day. But this time, it doesn’t come. His warmth doesn’t melt away as your mind pulls you from your fantastical refuge. The tears don’t suddenly flow from your eyes as you take in your surroundings. Your heart doesn’t skip and stutter when you realize you’re alone and lonely as ever. 

Instead, the arms around you pull you closer once he feels you shift. The wispy strands of his hair tickle your jaw from where his face is tucked into your neck. His breathing is even and warm against your skin, while his chest is even warmer against your back. Now, tears do come, but this time for an entirely different reason. You try to keep quiet, to keep him from waking up, but you know you fail when he lets out a groggy, gruff, “Honey, what’s wrong?” He releases you to let you turn in his embrace. He’s alert now, and he grabs your face in his hands, wiping the tears that prick the edges of your vision.

“Nothing, I’m-I’m fine, actually.” You let out a soft, disbelieving chuckle. “For the first time in a long… I’m fine.” You admit. His worried expression softens and he kisses your forehead. You decide to change the subject, embarrassed by how much crying you’ve done in the last 72 hours. “How did you sleep?” You ask him, sniffling a bit.

“The best I’ve slept all year.” He replies. You can tell he means it too. You nod quietly, smiling and he smiles back. “You wanna get up yet?” You shrug, enjoying this too much but wondering what he has in mind. He’s always thinking ahead.

“What’s your plan exactly?” You ask. He hums pensively and lets out a relaxed exhale. 

“Consider this my offer, for now: I want to take you to Betty’s Breakfast, come home, and spend all day making this whole mess up to you. I’ll buy you flowers on the way home. I’ll cook for us both. And I’ll shower you with affection.” His offer is tempting. You pretend to mull it over for just a beat too long, and he smiles again.

“It’s gonna take more than one day, you know?” You say, meeting his eyes.

“I know; I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.” He swears. You laugh softly again and he grabs one of your hands, bringing your palm up to his jaw. You cradle his cheek, staying quiet. He pauses, his gaze flicking down to your lips before returning to your eyes. You give a soft nod and he moves, kissing you first. You kiss him back, melting into him. It might take days, or weeks, or months, but you know Marcus will make it up to you. And you look forward to letting him.

******

I’ll be 100% honest and say: I did not expect this story to get as much traction as it has been. However, I am very glad for it because it proves Marcus P is a highly underrated Pedro character who deserves so much more hype. I know I racked on him here but hey, c’mon, he kinda deserved it. I left the bedroom makeup stuff up to interpretation, which I don’t usually do, but I liked the ambiguity of it. It gives you folks a chance to decide what you think might have happened. Anyway, thanks a million for reading, hope you enjoyed, and see you in the next one!

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[lamaisongaga]

LADY GAGA DONS MIU MIU FOR FUERA DE FOCO

Suit up! Because Lady Gaga's perchant for tailored suits continues with this look worn for another "Joker: Folie à Deux" interview for Fuera de Foco (watch here).

Gaga's love for structured tailoring continues, and this time she chose a stunning Miu Miu Fall/Winter 2024 single-breasted mohair blazer in "Amaranth Red" ($4,200) and poplin shirt in "Opal" ($1,270) for a recent interview for Fuera de Foco and TFC News.

The blazer features an embossed logo on the patch pocket, adding a subtle yet luxurious touch to the design. Known for its clean lines and impeccable fit, this tailored piece showcases Gaga's penchant for elegant yet bold fashion statements.

Interestingly, Miu Miu is a brand she wears only occasionally, making this an exciting and refreshing choice in her wardrobe lineup.

Shop:

Miu Miu Blazer ($4,200.00)

Miu Miu Poplin Shirt ($1,270.00)

[satansapostle6]

folie à deux

Sometimes poison is sweet.

Selina Romanov and Draco Malfoy met when they were only eleven years old. The two of them have always shared an intense bond, always having gravitated towards one another. But the question still remains, as the years pass by, is their connection one of passion, or delusion?

Warnings: Contains Mature Themes/Language, Themes Such As Sexual Content, Violence, Abuse, Sexual Assault, Eating Disorders

Seventeen.

  "Jasper. You are a meter ninety."

  "I don't care, I'm tired," he complained.

Selina rolled her eyes, relenting as she allowed Draco to hold her cat while she allowed Jasper to lay his head on her lap, with his long legs taking up half the wall beside him in their train compartment. 

  "There. Are you happy?" she questioned.

  "Very much so," he quipped, smiling ear to ear as he closed his eyes and dozed off.

  "Can you two please stop with the nauseating lovers' quarrel?" Draco requested impatiently, as if it were something obscene. 

  "Oh, come on, they're adorable," Pansy Parkinson remarked as she sat beside Draco, arm linked with his. 

  "Not when you have to sit across from them for eight hours," he rolled his eyes.

  "Fuck," Selina muttered, looking down at Jasper, who was already half asleep on her lap. "I have to piss."

  "And I need to know that why?" Draco asked.

  Pansy just rolled her eyes at him. "Ignore him, he's still grumpy from this morning."

  "Am not!" he argued out of embarrassment.

  "Are too."

  "I really need to get up," Selina murmured, a full fledged dilemma on her mind.

  "I'll go with you," Pansy offered, "I need to use the loo too."

  "See, Sel?" Draco spoke up. "That's how a lady announces her departure to the restroom."

  "Announce this," Selina said crossly, her middle finger inches from his face. "Come on," she turned to Pansy as the two got up.

Selina quickly stuffed her jacket underneath Jasper's head before going to the bathroom, so that he hardly noticed her moving. She and Pansy headed to the restroom together, not saying much as they went. Selina didn't mind being around Pansy, especially when they didn't have to talk.

She was a big fan of any interaction that didn't inherently require speaking. Just as Pansy and Selina were leaving the bathroom on the train, they nearly bumped into Fred Weasley, who had also just been in the bathroom.

  "Watch it, Weasel!" Pansy exclaimed, earning a mere eyebrow raise from Fred.

  "Selina," he said warningly. "Care to rein her in?"

  "Excuse her, she doesn't get better the more you get to know her," Selina assured him. "How are you, Fred? I saw you at the Cup..."

  "Yeah... It was a pretty rough night. Everyone's fine, though, so no worries there," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Everyone you went with alright?"

  "Yeah, everyone was fine," she nodded. "Relatively speaking, of course."

  "Say. You, er... Ever try one of these?" he asked her, pulling a tiny bag from his pocket.

Inside were three little red berries, which could've been easily mistaken for strawberries if they weren't a tenth of the size. 

  "What is that?" Selina questioned.

  "Don't know, exactly. Got them off Lee," Fred explained rather laconically. "Don't know what they actually are, but supposedly they're called 'haze berries'."

  "Why are they called 'haze berries'?" she wondered.

  "Dunno. Never tried them before," he admitted. 

  "Well, you're not selling them very well," Pansy muttered.

  Selina turned to her with angry, widened eyes. "Parkinson. Shut up."

  "Why?" the girl asked defensively.

  Selina frowned. "Do you want free drugs, or not?"

  Pansy seemed overtaken by opportunity. "Well, if you put it that way..."

  "I'll tell you what, Parkinson," Fred grinned, mischievous as ever, "Since you're with my girl Romanov here, you two can pop by our compartment. Me, George, and Lee are having our own little party on our own."

  "Are you game, Pansy?" Selina turned to her friend. 

  She thought for a moment, conflicted. "What about the boys?" she questioned.

  "They'll survive," Selina assured her, making Fred smile at their shared mischievousness. 

  "Can we stop by our compartment first?" Pansy pleaded. 

  "Go ahead," Fred agreed.

  "Perfect," she nodded, as they all went together.

Fred and Selina followed Pansy back to where Draco and Jasper were sitting, now joined by Blaise, who'd gotten sick of Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo. 

  "Draco," Pansy said, poking her head into the compartment. "Me and Selina will be back later."

  "Where are you going?" Draco frowned, displeased by the lack of company. 

  "We're getting high with the Weasleys," she whispered back. 

  This answer only provided Draco with more questions. "You're what with who?"

  Fred leaned into Selina, speaking under his breath so that only she could hear. "You're not letting him come with, are you?"

  "Absolutely not," she muttered.

Fred nodded appreciatively. 

  "We'll be back later!" Pansy declared in frustration, shutting the door as she and Selina followed Fred to where the twins were sitting with Lee Jordan. 

Fred opened the compartment door, allowing the girls in first. 

  "Look who I brought," he said eagerly.

George spotted Pansy, and seemed very skeptical of the whole thing. Lee, however, was more preoccupied with Selina's presence.

  "Blimey! Selina Romanov, in the flesh."

  "Selina Romanov in the flesh," Selina echoed, sitting down on the other side of those two by the window. 

  "There's no room," Pansy pouted, realizing Fred would also be sitting with them. 

  "There's plenty of room," Selina told her, already embarrassed at how high maintenance her friend was being.

  "Can I just sit on your lap?" Pansy complained, not seeming to want to sit beside Fred, or any Weasley, for that matter.

  Selina sighed internally, knowing that it was the only way to ensure that Pansy wouldn't be a problem. "Fine, go ahead."

The girl sighed dramatically with relief as she gently plopped down on Selina's lap. She was very petite, and did not take up much space or weigh much to Selina at all. 

  "This just got a whole lot more interesting," George murmured to Lee, who just nodded with a goofy smile on his face.

  "As you can see," Fred gestured grandly to his brother and friend, "Those two already took theirs. You girls care to partake?" he offered politely.

There were exactly three berries, which seemed only fitting. 

  "I'll have one," Selina volunteered, taking one out of the baggie.

  "But, what if you hate it?" Pansy asked, as Lee and George exchanged amused glances.

  "It's free," Selina reasoned, "I won't."

  "You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Fred clarified sympathetically. "Having one sober person wouldn't be terrible. Not that these cause a particularly intense reaction."

  "Well," Pansy Parkinson looked over at the other two boys, "They seem fine. What the hell?" she shrugged, accepting a berry. 

  "So what, do we just eat them?" Selina asked.

  "Yeah. They taste like candy," Lee told them. 

  "Alright. Down the rabbit hole," Selina decided, popping the berry into her mouth as she chewed. 

The others quickly followed suit.

  "Oh. It's like a gummy," she realized. 

  "Exactly like a gummy," George Weasley agreed.

  "I don't feel anything," Pansy remarked thoughtfully, 

  "Is it immediate?" Selina asked Lee and George.

  Lee nodded. "Yeah. It's not a very intense high, though. You just kinda feel... silly," he provided, chuckling for no particular reason just as he finished his sentence. 

  "Ha-ha," Pansy chuckled slowly, a grin slowly spreading across her face, "I do feel a bit silly."

  "So do I," Fred chimed in, "Like... Like a floating feeling. It's not unbearable or anything, though."

  "Huh. I don't really feel silly," Selina thought, feeling somewhat disappointed. "I just feel, like... Like I'm just really relaxed. Like nothing could possibly bother me."

  "You have the most soothing voice in the world," George blurted out, completely lost for a moment. 

  "It's true though," Selina laughed, "It's euphoric, but in a more calm way."

  "Yeah!" Lee exclaimed, shocked by how much he empathized. "My mum could die, and I'd be alright!"

George consequently burst out laughing, nearly cramping his stomach as he folded over. 

  "Your mum is dead," Fred reminded him, almost laughing himself as he realized he didn't mean to say that out loud.

  "Shit. That's right. Well. Good thing I'm high, then," Lee Jordan shrugged it off as Pansy and Selina both laughed.

  "Does anyone else's head feel funny?" Pansy asked the room. "Like it's going to float away?"

  "Yes," George promised, finding it odd to agree with Pansy Parkinson. 

  "Do you think they call them 'haze berries' because they have you in a haze?" Selina queried, as everyone else seemed blown away by the suggestion.

  "Woah! You're a bloody genius!" Lee exclaimed.

  "See? What did I tell you?" Fred remarked. "If you wanna be fucked up with anyone, it's Romanov."

The five of them all talked and laughed together, getting along just fine despite the various prejudices in the room. A few hours had even passed before Pansy realized that she wanted to head back to the compartment with Draco. Selina was left with Lee and the twins, enjoying their pleasant trip. 

After a little over three hours passed, Jasper decided to look for Selina, having been told earlier by Draco where she was. 

  "Hey," Jasper smiled, opening the compartment door.

  "Hey, Carroll, come join us," Fred invited him, standing up so that he could sit.

  "Hey," Selina smiled.

She stood up, allowing him to sit down in her seat so that she could sit in his lap to save space. Both of them were tall, which made it less awkward for Jasper. 

  "We took haze berries," she explained, her hand resting lightly on his chest as she spoke. 

  He looked down at her, smiling as he observed the blissful expression on her face. "Yeah, I can see that."

  "You want one?" Lee asked him. "I might have another."

  "No, that's alright," Jasper promised him, waving a hand out in front of him, "I don't usually partake."

  "He's a bit vanilla," Fred told the others teasingly. "A few drinks in him, and all he's going to do is go off to bed."

  "That's right," Jasper Carroll nodded proudly.

  "Not Selina, though!" George grinned. "She can knock them back all night!"

  "You must have a liver of steel," Lee stated.

  "Eh. It runs in the family," Selina shrugged.

  "'It' meaning alcoholism?" Jasper teased.

  "Yes, exactly," she nodded, not missing a beat. 

Jasper and Selina stayed with those three until they arrived at Hogwarts, only returning to their friends to fetch their things. Both of them stepped off of the train in their Slytherin robes, heading off towards the castle with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. 

The annual Welcoming Feast that year was certainly a special one, with Professor Dumbledore announcing that the Triwizard Tournament would be hosted at Hogwarts this year, with both the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students visiting for the rest of the school year, both schools making a uniquely dramatic entrance of their own, along with Alastor Moody, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and infamously cantankerous former Auror. 

It was also announced that only seventeen year-old students could submit their names into the magical Goblet of Fire to be drawn on Halloween night, which no one was particularly happy about. Due to the Tournament taking place, Quidditch was also canceled for that school year, which Selina was admittedly somewhat relieved about, considering that almost half the team hated her. 

It had been a rather eventful night, and by the end of it, Selina was exhausted, having still been affected by the haze berries she'd taken with the Weasleys. She and Jasper walked alongside Draco and Pansy on the way down to the dungeons. While Selina and Jasper were very much looking forward to silence and bed, Pansy and Draco both could not stop talking.

Draco seemed to be fairly obsessed with the idea of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarians' famous Seeker, being present on Hogwarts grounds. Pansy also seemed fairly interested in this concept, albeit for different reasons. Jasper and Selina both continued to endure them, eager to be able to sleep, until a stranger appeared in front of them, startling Jasper. 

  "Hello," one of the Durmstrang boys said, greeting Selina in a noticeable Polish accent.

  "Hello," she replied, not wanting to be rude, but also not sure why he was talking to her. 

Pansy began whispering to Draco, as the two of them could barely contain their smirks as they watched the situation unfold. 

  "Allow me to introduce myself," the brown-haired boy said as he extended a hand. "Henryk Checinski."

  "Selina Romanov," Selina said, instinctively giving her own full name in response.

She lightly placed her hand in his, not expecting him to raise it to his mouth and press a soft kiss to it. Jasper was now unsure of whether he should be amused or livid. 

  "Romanova?" he realized. "You come from a legendary family."

  "Not particularly anymore," she shrugged in a humble manner, unsure of how to continue the conversation.

  "Forgive me," Henryk said politely, staring at her, "You really are exquisite. Divine, even. Worth not only diamonds and gold, but wars, and blood."

  "Care to back that up?" Jasper asked, stepping towards him as Selina quickly barred him from approaching the strange boy.

  "My boyfriend is inclined to agree with you," Selina said coolly, offering a polite smile.

  "I see," Henryk Checinski stopped to reevaluate the situation, "Your heart has already been won?"

  "It has," Jasper assured him, "By me."

  "Hmmph," the Durmstrang student huffed, "Your height compensates for your crudeness."

  "I'm sorry, is this supposed to win me over?" Selina questioned.

  "No," Henryk replied, "But I will vie for your affections as necessary."

  "I'd rather you didn't," she said finally. 

  "Is there no way in which a goddess such as yourself would provide me the paradise of your company?" he persisted.

  "Sorry, no paradise here," she shrugged. "But if it's a happy ending you're looking for, Parkinson can probably help you."

  "Bugger off!" Pansy exclaimed.

  "Very well. If you find yourself having a change of heart... You know where to find me," he concluded, nodding to her as he walked away. 

Jasper eyed him spitefully.

  "I'm taller than him, right?"

  "Oh, definitely," Pansy nodded. 

*****

  "There. Now shall we continue with our lesson?" Professor Snape said dryly.

Selina shook herself off in confusion, looking around the Potions room as she tried to figure out how long it had been. But strangely, she couldn't even remember the last thing she remembered.

  "What?" she said stupidly. 

  "I gave you an antidote for what I'm assuming those cursed twins sold you," Severus Snape replied impatiently. "I'll admit, you were a very convincing sober act. I almost didn't realize the state you were in, that is, until you forgot the word for 'punching' and told Miss Parkinson to instead 'fist' Mr. Malfoy."

  "What... What day is it?" she demanded, although hardly grasping the concept of time. 

It took her a moment, but she eventually found her place in the chronology of time. The last thing she could clearly recall was the night they'd arrived at Hogwarts, 

  Snape barely humored her. "It's Monday."

  "So we arrived earlier?" she deduced.

  "It's Monday, September eighth," he corrected her.

  Selina was flabbergasted, looking up at Snape in disbelief from where she sat. "But, we arrived here on the first."

  "As I said before, your sober act was very convincing," Snape repeated. "I only just noticed earlier today."

  "I lost a whole week's worth of memory? How is that possible?" Selina asked him.

  "The plants you most likely know as 'haze berries', when ingested, can occasionally cause one to temporarily stop processing information and making memories for anywhere from minutes to

months. Now, can we move on?"

  "You're not punishing me?" she inquired skeptically.

  "Romanov, to put it simply, your existence is punishment enough as of late," he said impatiently, "Now may we please proceed, or do you insist upon wasting both of our time with foolish questions?"

  "Alright," she sighed, setting her various concerns aside, "What are we working on? Legilimency?"

  "Yes. But this time, I would like you to perform the spell both nonverbally, as well as wandlessly. This will significantly ease us into the next chapter of your instruction."

  "Wait, you want me to do the spell nonverbally and wandlessly?" Selina questioned. "That's extremely advanced."

  "Your point being?" Snape questioned. "I thought you came her to push yourself. If you insist upon striving for mediocrity and subsisting at a rudimentary level, I suggest that you find yourself a different instructor."

  "I mean, I'm willing to learn," Selina insisted, "I'm just saying, is it possible?"

  "If it wasn't, would I be teaching it?" Severus Snape pointed out.

  "Can you perform this spell wandlessly?" she asked him.

  "No," he responded coolly.

  "Then why teach it to me?" she asked. "I mean, if you can't do it yourself..."

  "Isn't it obvious?" he demanded, leaning in. "You can push yourself beyond the limits of even my capabilities. You need to think even more ambitiously."

  "Why do you have so much confidence in me?" Selina broke down. "I mean. You don't teach this way with any other student—"

  "Because no other student has shown me the promise you have. Don't misunderstand, I've had plenty of talented students, and plenty of successful ones, but none with capabilities that extended beyond their proclivities," he stressed. "Even the subjects you hate, you seem to excel at. You possess more genuine talent than this entire school combined, most professors included!"

  "You can't honestly believe that," she scoffed.

  "I do, Miss Romanov, although I also believe that you'd be twice as successful as you are now were it not for your crippling alcoholism!"

  Selina stopped, completely thrown off by Snape using those words. "I... I'm not—"

She had no idea at all what to say to that.

  "You forget, I've quite literally explored the very recesses of your mind, on numerous occasions," he stated. "Not to mention, you currently have an entire week that can't be accounted for."

Selina had nothing to say to him, highly uncomfortable with the conversation that they were having. 

  "Although you are arguably far more talented than I am, I do know exactly where your self-destructive habits come from. I can relate to a fair few of them myself," he said, sounding more impassioned than devastated. "You need to concentrate, and more importantly, find a way to live with yourself."

  "Why do you care what I do?" she studied him cynically.

  "I don't care what you do," Snape assured her, his view of her more pragmatic than sentimental in nature, "But the fact of the matter is, you're far more useful to the world trying than not. The world as a collective does not care about your wellbeing, Romanov, which I'm sure you've realized by this point in your life. 

"Throwing away one's own existence should be regarded as completely ethical, because of bodily autonomy. Therefore, the only reason it is considered wrong for you to ruin your own life is because it affects other people."

Selina listened carefully, not saying anything as he presented a perfect metaphor.

  "After all, they refer to suicide as something that is committed, like a crime, because it is considered a crime. Suicide ultimately falls under the respective category of 'destruction of government property'," he relayed. "By taking your own life, you would be depriving your loved ones of affection and validation, and your government of the fruits of your labor."

  "I think so too," she agreed after a moment, a sense of bitterness overtaking her as she spoke to the professor. "Sometimes, I think I should be more enthusiastic about life. Not because of other people, because they're unreliable, but because I do have things about myself that are worth it."

  "So, you should understand," he went on, "That even if I do not care about you as a person, the sobering and, ultimately, more important fact remains that regardless of the feelings of others, you should want to treat your existence with some dignity simply because it really is more respectable. Stop making a mess of your life, and be productive instead."

  "But... I..." she struggled to find the words she was looking for. "There's just a lot of pain there. I don't know if I have it in me to accomplish something so extreme right now."

  "That is all you need, Romanov," Severus Snape told her. "Pain. It's nothing more than a commodity, especially in magic."

  "But most spells that really require emotional pain to cast are considered Dark magic," Selina rationalized.

  "Some, yes," he agreed. "But oftentimes, you'll find that magic is a celestial and amoral force, able to be utilized just as often as it is weaponized. Although school and Ministry policies tend to recognize magic as a more two-dimensional dichotomy, many in history have believed that balance can only be attained by equally respecting all forms of magic as knowledge all else."

  "So, what do I do to perform Legilimency without my wand?" Selina asked readily, pocketing her long black wand.

  "Separate yourself from your wand entirely; it is merely a piece of wood, an instrument invented by western practitioners. You do not need it to perform magic; it's merely a conduit," he spoke slowly as she centered herself, finding a sense of calmness as well as confidence. "Focus on transmitting a signal from yourself straight to your target, without having to go through your wand. It takes practice, but once you feel it for yourself, the possibilities will open up."

  "Okay," she breathed, taking a long, deep breath as she focused her energy inward and outward.

  "Remember. You yourself are invading my mind," he said sternly. "You yourself possess the power to do so, and much more, within you; everything you do, you do on your own."

Selina awoke herself as best as she could, allowing the magic to course through her like electricity. She opened her eyes in one, forceful movement as she narrowed her eyes, focusing visually and mentally on Snape as she used her own mind to pull from his. 

She eventually could feel the magic leaving her body, but she had yet to fully project it outward. She could feel the static energy within her, anxious to be utilized. She inhaled forcefully as she persisted, refusing to stop.

A feeling of relief soothed the heat that had collected in her body. The energy was relaxed, and she could feel things slowly coming to her as it flowed more freely than she had every felt. The number two hundred eighty-one flashed through her mind, as she also saw Snape brewing the potion he'd served to her before. 

Selina was startled by how much she saw. she had not only successfully entered Snape's mind, but she had seen more than he had been allowing her to; she was already capable of completely breaking down his defenses. 

  "There! Now that is acceptable work," Snape announced, allowing her to stop.

Selina nodded, contemplating her abilities as she stood before him with her arms crossed, trying to find a way to replicate that success. 

*****

After her lessons, Selina wandered up toward the Great Hall, where her friends were all waiting for her as they prepared to eat their dinner. Fully aware that she probably had accrued a decent amount of odd behavior to make up for in the past week, she quietly sank down into the empty seat beside Jasper at the table, not saying a word to anyone.

Her discreet approached proved ineffective.

  "Sel," Amana said to her best friend beside her. "You look sober."

  Selina looked at her, uncertain as to how she should answer the question. "Yeah," she murmured, "I'm fine."

Amana didn't seem convinced by this, having been fully aware of Selina's muddled state in the past week. No one who spent enough time with Selina had been unaware of the strange way she'd been acting, apart from perhaps Crabbe and Goyle, of course. 

But the most worried out of the bunch was Jasper Carroll, who was immensely relieved to see the light in her eyes again, especially after the way he'd seen her practically walking around half asleep at the Welcoming Party the Slytherins had held over the weekend.

  "There you are," his eyes lit up again as he gently rubbed her back. "You feeling alright?" he asked her softly.

  "Yeah, I'm fine, Jas," Selina replied, quietly putting a small amount of chicken salad onto her plate.

  "You should eat something," he told her, just as she felt all the sounds surrounding her grow quieter as her ears began to ring a bit. 

Selina was beginning to feel drained and clammy,  no longer able to focus on anything but how much her head was beginning to ache. Truthfully, Jasper's voice was beginning to sound grating in her head.

  "That's what I'm doing," she said quietly, slowly saying her food as she tried to shut out the pain.

  "Sel," Draco's voice cut into her thoughts as she looked up, physically feeling the heavy bags underneath her eyes.

  "What?" she asked, barely conscious of everything that was going on.

  "You good?" he asked expectantly, needing her answer before he could relax.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," she insisted.

  "Are you sure?" Pansy chimed in. "You're looking a bit pale."

  "I'm alright, thanks," Selina nodded. 

Jasper was concerned for her, not having seen her eat very much in the past week. He tried to find a constructive way to encourage her, not sure of what more he could possibly do. 

  "You're not more hungry?" he asked worriedly.

  Selina frowned, feeling herself begin to tremble. "If I was, I'd be eating more," she pointed out, trying to sound calm.

  "Yeah, I know, I just want to make sure you eat enough," Jasper nodded, his hand still slightly supporting her.

  "I'm eating enough," she promised, drinking from her goblet as she tried to ignore how overwhelmed she was by everything at the moment.

Everything sounded so much louder and harsher as she tried to adjust to the ambient noise around her. But instead of sounding distant or comforting, every single sound in the entire room was grating to her. She resisted the urge to cover her ears tightly with her hands and scream perpetually just to drown it all out.

She felt as if she were having a migraine, and everything was beginning to go dark. Her vision was momentarily spotty as she tried to navigate her surroundings, despite being seated at the table. 

  "Do you want some more juice?" Jasper asked her, looking down at her cup.

Selina could no longer control her own shaking, all of the sounds amplified tenfold in her ears. 

  "Bloody fucking hell, I'm fine!" Selina shouted, unable to bear it any longer. 

Half of the Slytherin table glanced over at her dubiously. She was the only one standing up at the table, her hands shaking as her eyes stung. Jasper and Amana were both upset by the sudden outburst. Draco fearfully looked around the table, desperate to make eye contact with anyone else. Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne all remained silent, not knowing how to respond. All of them watched Selina to try and determine her state, which didn't seem to be a good one.

Selina's hands shook aggressively as she jabbed her temples with her fingers, determined to force out the headache. But it didn't seem to lessen.

Mortified by her own behavior, she quickly darted out of the Great Hall, hiding from everyone. Snape joined her shortly in the corridor, his billowing black cloak swishing behind him as he approached her.

  "What?!" Selina demanded impatiently, her face buried in her hands as she tried to soothe the pain. "Come to yell at me again?"

  "You need to go to bed," was all he had to say, "Now."

  "You don't have to tell me twice," she muttered, storming off in the opposite direction.

She could've sworn that the only reason she hadn't lost an absurd amount of points to Snape throughout her time at Hogwarts was because she was a member of his House. 

As she slumped against the wall for a moment, trying to force the pain out of her skull, she found that Fred Weasley had decided to join her out in the hall. She grimaced up at him in pain, not particularly in the mood for laughter at this point. 

  "What?" she asked expectantly.

  "Just came to see that you were alright," he stated, "But I won't bother you," he threw up his hands in surrender.

Selina looked at him, trying not to feel the same anger that had been coaxed out of her by the excruciating pain that overcame her when she was around everyone. 

  "Fine," she said indifferently, not concerned with his existence at the moment.

  "You froze, didn't you?" Fred asked sympathetically.

  "What?" she questioned impatiently, stopping to look at him.

  "That's what they call it," he explained. "You don't remember anything in this past week, do you?" he asked her.

  She shook her head. "No."

  "That can happen, to some people."

  "This would've been great to know about a week ago," Selina retorted, not entirely appreciating his easygoing nonchalance. 

  "It's alright. It doesn't affect your behavior too much when you freeze; it just makes things... automatic, you know?" he offered. "But I'm really sorry, though, Selina, about that... Lee brought them, and I didn't know—"

  "It's fine," she stopped him, holding out her hand for him to stop. 

Her demeanor toward him gradually softened, the more she was willing to recognize that he would have warned her had he known. She also had to admit that, although the recovery from the potion Snape had fed to her was rather painful, the high itself that she experienced was pleasant and convenient, in a way that the complexities of sobriety weren't.  

  "Here, I'll walk you down to the dungeons if you like," he offered, thinking it was what Jasper would've wanted him to do for her.

  "That's fine," she nodded, going along with it.

  "So," he said, seeming to have a specific topic in mind, "Everything alright with you and Jasper?" he asked her.

  Selina paused for a moment before she spoke, not having anything particularly pleasant to say. "I don't know if it's because of the crash I'm experiencing, but he pissed me off."

  "It probably is," Fred offered, "At least partly."

She didn't respond, walking alongside him as she focused on nothing but sleep. 

  "Let me guess," Fred continued, taking a deep breath as he thought, "You feel like he's smothering you? Like he doesn't believe you when you say you're okay?"

Selina met his eyes with curiosity, as if surprised by his insight. 

  "Yeah," she agreed, "Exactly that."

  "Look. Jasper's a good bloke," Fred offered, looking ahead as he tried to think.

  "I never thought he wasn't," Selina remarked simply.

  "That's not my point, Romanov, will you just listen?" he teased, trying to frame his thought with the best combination of words possible. "Jasper's a good guy. He just... doesn't seem to know what to do when people are having a hard time. Even if they don't seem to be bothered by it."

She thought about what he said, more emotionally available than she'd been throughout  the entire conversation so far.

  "He knows you're having a hard time, and it doesn't seem to be getting better, so he keeps you as close as he can because he's afraid he'll lose you one way or another."

Selina couldn't help but be intrigued by Fred's understanding of Jasper's intentions.

  "Yeah... I know," she responded. "But, I just don't understand, what could possibly make someone act so... erratically."

  Fred sighed, his own observation taking a toll on him. "You're very much the kind of girl a bloke does anything to keep," he enlightened her.

Although this wasn't a particularly profound revelation, it was the specific combination of words that he chose that made it interesting to think about.

  "You know. When I was younger... my grandmother used to say that loving me was a bullet she dodged," Selina remembered.

  "That's fucked up," Fred said bluntly, without hesitation. 

  "It is," she agreed. "That's why I didn't even bat an eye when she killed herself."

Fred stopped for a moment, feeling his heart sink for her as he realized just how much she'd been through. Seeing the empathy in his eyes, Selina instantly regretted sharing any detail of her life.

  "I'm sorry..." she said slowly, "I forgot that that wasn't common knowledge."

  "No, don't be sorry," Fred said quickly, not offended by it in any way, "When was that?"

  "The day summer started," Selina replied, watching as he filled with sadness for her.

  "Oh. I'm sorry," he gave her a saddened smile.

  "Don't be. It was probably more a good thing than a bad thing," she offered. "I live with my uncle now."

  "That's good, then," he said optimistically. "At least you have family."

  "Yeah," she thought. "You know. No matter how insane she was, sometimes, I think my grandmother might've been right."

  "Why?" he demanded, unwilling to even hear her out.

  "I don't know. It seems like everyone who cares about me just ends up miserable," she expressed with disgust.

  "How so?" he asked curiously.

Fred genuinely didn't see how someone as intelligent and strong-willed as Selina Romanov could believe something so inherently sad in nature. 

  "I'm a mess, and not one that's getting cleaned up anytime soon," Selina sighed, "I'm surrounded by death, and the only people around me who aren't dead are severely mentally ill!" she exclaimed almost comically.

Fred listened intently, but didn't say anything as he didn't quite know what he could possibly say to make the situation any better.

  "When I was six, I saw my father murder my mother, and then, Flint happened, and then I saw my grandmother kill herself, and try to take me with her. I can't even answer a simple question like 'what's wrong' without someone genuinely reconsidering their entire life!" she laughed painfully. "No one I've ever met, let alone anyone our age, knows how to even respond to that."

  "I... I can see how awful that must be," Fred said after a moment, not wanting to upset her further. "You, er... You said your grandmother tried to hurt you?" he asked hesitantly, not understanding. 

  "Yeah," Selina nodded, much less bothered by telling the story than he thought she'd be. "We got into an argument... Because I didn't want to live with her anymore. So, she decided if I didn't want to live with her anymore, then neither of us needed to live. She started conjuring Fiendfyre, and I... I had to shield myself," she finished. 

Fred was horrified by what she'd told him, not offended by the details of the story, but more appalled by the fact that this was something that had actually happened to someone. 

  "That's a terrible thing to do," he said, immediately feeling stupid for not having anything better to say.

Suddenly, Fred Weasley, the infamous class clown, was disgusted even by the idea of trying to crack a joke. 

  "Yeah," Selina agreed almost indifferently, not seeming to need a particular response from him. 

  "Well, I'm... I'm glad you're alright," he told her. "I know we were never very close friends, or anything, but, it's just good to hear that you're at least alright."

  "Yeah, thank you," Selina nodded, appreciating the sentiment. "That's kind of you."

Fred nodded, realizing that this girl had, on multiple occasions, encountered true evil that most people at their age could hardly imagine. 

  "You know, last year, when I heard about everything that Flint had done, I felt awful. For you, and all of those girls," he said quietly. "Some of them were so young..."

  "Yeah. Even younger than I was," she expressed.

  "You know, even before last year, everyone knew that Flint was an evil piece of human garbage, but no one who actually saw anything ever said anything," he remarked, "They just let it happen."

  "That's always how it goes," Selina told him. "Especially with the Marcus Flints of the world; the people who do fucked up things just because they know they can get away with it."

Fred nodded in agreement. 

  "You know, everyone else seems to think that all Slytherins are like him," Selina thought. "I mean. You saw when the Sorting Hat told Harry Potter to choose between Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Fred's brow furrowed. He agreed that Slytherins were all unfairly misjudged as a collective group, but he didn't quite understand the significance of the event she was referencing, having remembered it fondly as the day his friend, Harry Potter, became a Gryffindor. 

  "Come on. 'Not Slytherin'?" Selina scoffed, thinking back to her first year. "Everyone else thinks we're all just greedy and evil."

  "Like Malfoy and his merry band of yes-men?" he provided.

  "Yeah. Exactly," she agreed. "Slytherin's values are 'ambition', and 'cunning', and 'resourcefulness'. Those aren't inherently wrong."

  "No, they're good things to have."

  "Right. I know why I'm in Slytherin; I'm in Slytherin because I want to have goals for myself in life, goals that mean something, and I won't stop until I achieve them. I'm a Slytherin because the only person I think worth competing with is myself, but I'm still always competing. That doesn't make me a bad person," she insisted.

  "Not at all; I think that's amazing, if I'm being honest," Fred commended her. "It's just... people

are afraid of people who intentionally push the limits. You're not a bad person."

  "No," Selina thought aloud, "But my grandmother always said I was."

  "Did she?"

Fred seemed saddened by this as he looked at her, gently asking for the rest of the story. 

  "Yeah. She blames... blamed me for my mother's death. She said I was born evil, that I break everything that I touch."

  "She's the evil one, if that's how she spoke to her own grandchild," Fred reasoned.

  "Yeah. But, I mean, my mother also died arguing with my father about my future," Selina considered.

  "Still. The only one to blame was your father," he comforted her.

  "I know. Believe me, I know," she nodded slowly. "I spent years wasting my breath telling her the same thing."

Fred stopped to think for a moment, wondering if what he was thinking was too far. But it seemed so far, Selina only welcomed unusual questions and perspectives, so he decided it was okay.

  "How do you think you're going to get through all this?" he asked candidly.

She stopped for a moment, considering every different variation of meaning that the question had. 

  "I don't know. But I figure staying alive is half the battle," she decided eventually.

  "That is true," he nodded. "Selina I don't really know anything about what you're going through, and I won't pretend to, because that would just be pointless... But if there's one thing I can say, it's that family and friends are there to help you through it."

  "They are," she admitted, "But I can't put all of this on them. It's too much."

  "That's why they're there," he reasoned. 

  "Fred," she began, "You don't know what it feels like to have to ruin a friend's mood on a random Tuesday with the image of your mother being murdered."

  "No. I don't," his kind brown eyes looked into hers, "But I can see that Jasper, and your other friends, even Malfoy, the bloody prat, love you."

  "I can't talk to Jasper about this all the time," Selina said darkly.

  "Why not?" he wondered.

  "Because," she breathed, "He's my boyfriend."

Fred Weasley was lost. 

  "You know what a boyfriend is when you're fourteen?" she posed a question. "When you're young, a boyfriend carries your books for you, and open doors for you, and asks you to dances. Fifteen year-old boyfriends don't usually listen to stories about attempted murder-suicides, or keep you from drinking yourself to sleep, or any other existential bullshit," she said in frustration.

  "Jasper will," Fred told her without hesitation, a serious look in his eyes. "He'll do all of that, and more, whatever you need. That's how much he cares about you," he insisted.

  "I can't ask him to do all that!" Selina cried.

  "But, you don't have to," he offered, "If someone cares about you, they'll just do it."

  "Well, what if they shouldn't?!" she exclaimed, a dead look in her grey eyes. "What if I can't handle someone loving me?"

This was a question Fred had no idea at all how to answer. Just looking at Selina, the striking combination of pain and numbness in her eyes made him realize that, although she was two years younger than he was, she'd had thoughts in passing that were potentially more deeply disturbing than anything he could ever experience. 

  "What if I can't stand myself so much, I'm starting to resent him for loving me?!" she questioned. 

Fred watched in a panic as her thought process slowly devolved into something that could more accurately be described as a gradual breakdown. He was beyond not having any idea how to be a good friend to her. 

  "Fuck! Why did I ever think I should be with someone?!" she scoffed bitterly at the idea. "I saw things that fucked me up before my brain was even developed enough to handle it! That's a person that's fundamentally fucked! 

"Most people start out at a blank slate with themselves, but I probably won't be able to work towards that until I'm thirty! Every time someone tells me they love me, a part of me can't even enjoy it because I just get stuck thinking, 'What the fuck is wrong with you?!'"

Fred had to admit, that was one of the single worst things he had ever heard in his life, and it hurt coming from someone he didn't know well, but had always liked and respected. He'd never known much about Selina before, but now that he saw who she really was on the inside, he felt like he'd met the saddest girl alive, not even sad in nature, but simply sad because she had the most to be sad about. 

  "I'm sorry, Selina," he murmured.

  "I'm sorry," she repeated, "That's exactly the kind of thing I know people don't want to hear about."

  "No. That's what I want to hear," he replied.

"Not that you're upset, of course, but I want to hear about what makes you who you are."

  "Well, that's just a lot of different fucked up things," she thought.

  "I don't care. I'd take that over most conversations with most other people," Fred reassured her. "You're a kind, smart person."

  "Before I came to Hogwarts, I never really knew anyone besides my uncle could think so," she confessed. "I never thought that I could find people who liked me."

  "Well, you have, Selina," he said gently. "And for the record, I like you plenty. Off the Quidditch pitch, at least."

  "Thanks. I like you too," she told him. 

  "Jasper loves you. I can tell he does, even if I don't know him well," he urged her, "Don't be afraid to go to him.

His words stayed with her as she went to bed that night, eager to sleep and get away from everything. But Selina didn't sleep well, despite how exhausted and depleted she was. She drifted off to sleep quickly, but waited the entire night for relief. Never did it come. 

She seemed to be condemned to constant misery, trading in the pain of trudging through her days with the visions that plagued her in her sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, all Selina saw were various re-enactments of her worst memories, a different lineup each night.

Tonight, Selina saw a warped, distorted version of her father casting Expulso against her mother, followed by an even more disturbing renditions of what Marcus Flint had done to her. None of this was even surprising to her when she woke up  early in the morning, groggy and disoriented, still in need of sleep.

  "Mana," Selina murmured, "Mana."

Her friend sat up, looking over at their other friend, Reyna, who was still asleep in her bed. 

  "What?" Amana Tesfaye murmured, rubbing her eyes.

  "Do you have any water?" she asked.

  "No," Amana mumbled sleepily. "I have warm vodka, and a Chocolate Frog."

  "Can I have that?" Selina hoped, earning a confused look from her friend.

  "Fine, here."

Too dazed to discern reality from anything else, Amana lazily reached into her bedside table and threw Selina a purple Chocolate Frog box and a half empty bottle. Selina popped open the bottle, shivering in preparation as she took a decent swig, popping the candy in her mouth immediately after as she threw her blanket back over her head, sighing as she attempted to sleep for at least a few more minutes. 

*****

Selina's eyes were somehow red with sleep deprivation when she woke up, despite having slept. Selina never had to apologize to Jasper for their fight from the night before, even if she wanted to. In the morning, when everyone ate their breakfast, he had sat down beside her, resting his hand in hers as he watched her.

  "Jasper—" Selina had began.

  "Don't worry," he shook his head, interrupting her. "It's okay, Selina."

  "Are you sure?" she asked quietly as everyone decided to give them their privacy

  "I love you," Jasper Carroll said, even more so with his eyes than with his mouth. 

  "I love you," Selina told him, trying her best to smile.

The school was abuzz the next couple of days, awaiting the selection of the three Triwizard Champions. 

Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students were everywhere, which was indeed very interesting to watch. Crabbe and Goyle spent much of their time trailing after the Beauxbatons girls, staring them down in their pretty, powder-blue robes, and Draco was screamed at and/or slapped every time Pansy Parkinson even suspected him of doing the same. 

  "Who do you think it's going to be?" Selina asked her boyfriend as they sat at the Slytherin table, waiting for Dumbledore to begin the ceremonial selection. 

  "Dunno. I just know it's not going to be Fred or George," Jasper supplied.

  "I think it's a safe bet," he agreed, watching the blue flames emitted from the legendary Goblet of Fire with curiosity.

  "I hope Potter's name pops out of that goblet," Draco spoke up cheerfully. 

  "He's not even a seventh year," Pansy pointed out, "If he was, I'd bet you his was the first name in there."

  "I hope whoever gets picked from Beauxbatons doesn't die," Vincent Crabbe chimed in. "It'd be a waste."

  "I hope she doesn't die," Gregory Goyle foolishly pointed over at the one of Beauxbatons girls. 

  "I'd rather she died than her," Crabbe pointed at a different girl.

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes at his friends. 

  "You're both fucking stupid," Draco shook his head, "Have you not seen her?!" 

  Pansy looked at him in disgust, smacking him across the chest. "Draco!"

  "What?" he questioned blankly.

Jasper just shook his head as the rest of them watched Professor Dumbledore begin his speech.

  "If you were seventeen, would you have put your name in?" Blaise wondered. 

  "Of course, I would've," Selina told him, as Jasper sat beside her, listening in.

  "You'd be stupid not to," Draco agreed with a scoff. "This 'Triwizard Tournament' would be either of ours for the taking."

  "You're right," Selina nodded, eyes fixed on the Goblet of Fire, in all its glory. "I could win this thing," she thought, eyes straining as she stared at the flaming chalice. 

Selina and Jasper watched as Dumbledore began drawing names, gracefully shot from the blue flames of the goblet, the first one being a girl from Beauxbatons. 

  "The champion for Beauxbatons... is Fleur Delacour!"

Selina and the others all joined in on the applause, notably except for Pansy, who was too busy scowling at her boyfriend. It seemed Draco's wandering eyes just couldn't be helped as he applauded and cheered with the other boys as she walked up to shake the Headmaster's hand. 

  "The Durmstrang Champion... Viktor Krum!"

Selina and Draco both cheered especially loud, excited to see the famous Quidditch player called up. He shook Albus Dumbledore's hand, returning to his seat as he prepared to announce the next and final Champion, the one from Hogwarts. 

  "And lastly, the Hogwarts Champion... Cedric Diggory!"

  "Pfft," Draco scoffed, looking across the table at Selina, "You and I could take him."

Selina nodded in agreement, still staring in silence at the front of the room. 

  "Cedric Diggory?" Jasper questioned. "The Hufflepuff Prefect? The Hufflepuff Seeker? All in one person? That's who you two think you could take?"

  "Yeah," Draco nodded confidently, "Look at him. No brains, just... hair."

  "Yeah, Cedric isn't necessarily the brightest at times," Jasper agreed, watching as he eventually sat back down.

They were interrupted by a darkening in the room, as the Goblet's calm, blue flames shifted into erratic red ones as another tiny slip of paper shot out of the goblet, shocking everyone in the room. It was almost silent now. Selina could tell that Dumbledore had no idea what was going on.

Everyone in the room watched as he plucked the slip of parchment from the air, reading it.

  "What the hell just happened?" Pansy whispered.

  "Shut up," Draco snapped in response. 

  "Don't tell me to shut up!"

Selina watched intently as Dumbledore stared down at the name written on the parchment in shock. 

  "Harry Potter," he murmured, looking up in disbelief. "Harry Potter?"

  "Bloody hell," Crabbe whispered. 

Everyone in the room consequently lost their minds.

  "No," Draco murmured, unable to believe what he was hearing. "That's impossible!"

  "How did he do it?!" Pansy exclaimed shrilly.

Selina turned over to Jasper, who didn't seem to have anything to say about it at the moment. She looked over at Harry, who seemed more shocked than anyone in the room.

  "He didn't put his own name in there, did he?" she murmured.

  "I don't think so," Jasper Carroll whispered, the both of them just watching. 

  "Harry Potter!" Professor Dumbledore yelled, more loudly and angrily than Selina or anyone else had ever heard before.

They all watched as Harry slowly stood, shamefully walking up to the front of the room as the students all reacted in different ways, staring,  and yelling, and whispering. Dumbledore furiously thrusted the piece of parchment at him, not saying a single word. 

Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all livid following the selection of the Triwizard Champions. Jasper, Selina, and Blaise were relatively quiet as they left the Great Hall. Selina ended up separating from the rest of the group as she ended up meeting Harry in the hall, noticing the vacant expression on his face. 

  "Harry?" Selina said hesitantly.

He seemed far away, and didn't look at her right away, despite having heard what she said. 

  "Selina," he cleared his throat, looking her up and down, still shaken from what had happened earlier.

  "Hey. Are you in trouble?" she asked considerately.

  "I... er, I don't know," Harry admitted. "You... You don't think I did it, then?" he asked her. 

  "No, of course not," Selina responded. "You're not the type."

  "No. I suppose not," he murmured, stopping in place.

Selina sensed his fear, recognizing the lost expression in his eyes.

  "Hey," she said again, trying to find a way to help. "Is there... something I can do to help?"

Harry thought for a moment, feeling the need to come up with something.

  "Erm... Can you come with me? To Dumbledore's office?" he asked hopefully.

  Selina nodded quickly, perfectly capable of doing so. "Yeah. Yeah, of course," she decided agreeably.

  "Thank you," Harry Potter thanked her as they walked. 

She offered a friendly smile as she accompanied him, thoughtfully giving his shaky hand a squeeze. Harry looked up at her, surprised by the gesture. 

  "You're not alone," Selina told him, careful about the promises she made to the potential Triwizard Tournament Champion.

  "Thank you," Harry said to her, accepting the kindness.

They were both otherwise completely silent as Harry headed up the Headmaster's Tower. 

  "I'll be here when you come back," Selina assured him. 

  "Oh, no," he relieved her quickly, "You don't have to do that—"

  "Do you want me to?" Selina cut him off. 

  "I... No, you really don't have to do that," Harry tried to force a smile.

  "I said, do you want me to?" she asked again.

He thought about it for a second, weighing his options.

  "Could you?" he asked in a small, timid voice. 

  Selina tried to smile and ease his mind. "Of course."

As he headed up, Selina gave him a final nod of encouragement, watching as he ascended. He was gone for almost a half an hour, and returned with a nervous expression still on his face, although he did seem more confident.

  "How was it?" Selina asked him, approaching him hesitantly. "Did they interrogate you?"

  "Yeah," Harry said unenthusiastically as they walked towards the Gryffindor common room.

  "Are you okay? Relatively speaking?" she asked gently.

Harry just shrugged, not knowing if he had an answer to the question. 

  "I think so. I think Dumbledore knows I'm innocent. But they're probably still making me compete."

  Selina nodded, accepting the answer. "Good. I'm sure they'll stop suspecting you eventually. They all seem pretty on edge after what happened... Karkaroff especially."

  "Yeah," Harry agreed, distracted. "Hey, Selina?"

  "Hmm?" she replied, not expecting a question.

  "How are you so kind?" Harry Potter asked her. 

  She frowned, not sure how to appropriately answer the question. "That's a long story," she supplied, "Just know I won't treat you like Draco does."

  "I think I've got the time for a long story," Harry offered kindly. 

  The kindness was something she genuinely appreciated. "Something happened when I was a child. And then a bunch of other things happened."

  "What things?" he asked subsequently.

  "Come on," Selina chuckled, "Surely there's something else you'd rather talk about," she remarked. 

  "No, not really," Harry shook his head, trying to avoid the topic of the Tournament at the moment. 

  "Okay," she decided. "Well. I'm sure you've heard the rumors," she stated.

  "What rumors?" Harry asked, probably the only person at Hogwarts who wouldn't have immediately understood what she was referring to.

  "About my parents," she explained.

  "Oh," he realized. "Yeah. Some of it," he replied nonchalantly.

  "I'm sure you've heard about my father. And what he did to my mother," she said softly.

Harry nodded, knowing the story all too well. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that Ilya Romanov was in Azkaban for murdering his wife. 

  "And then, this summer, my grandmother died," Selina murmured. 

  "Yeah, I read about that," he recalled.

  "She killed herself," Selina added. "But we kept that out of the papers. We also kept out the part where she tried to burn us both alive, with Fiendfyre."

Harry just stared at her blankly, unable to say anything in response. 

  "I've heard what they say about us, you know, when they think we're not listening," Selina confided in him. "They call us 'the orphans'. They think they're funny."

  "Who would 'they' be?" Harry questioned. "Malfoy?"

  Selina shook her head. "No. Draco's at least funnier than that."

  "I'll agree to disagree," Harry provided indifferently.

  Selina smiled. "You can insult him to me, Harry, I'll probably laugh with you."

He nodded in agreement, chuckling along with her. He felt a bit more at ease as they walked together. 

  "I know you don't need it, but... I'll make sure he  leaves you alone," she volunteered. "You've got enough on your plate."

  "Thanks, I guess," Harry sighed, "Although, I don't think it'll work."

  "It's the thought that counts," Selina Romanov provided. 

  "Definitely," he agreed wholeheartedly.

*****

  "What are we doing up here?" Selina complained. 

She groaned reluctantly as she allowed Fred and George to drag her all the way up to the seventh floor after the day's lessons had all ended. 

  "You'll see," George told her, "Just watch."

The three of them stopped in the corridor as Fred silently looked up at an empty wall. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the wall began to slowly change, hidden patterns and mechanisms revealed as the wall turned into two grand doors. Startled, Selina looked to the twins for answers.

  "What room is this?" she questioned. 

  "The one room that can disappear and reappear," George grinned.

  "The Room of Requirement," Fred supplied. "It only appears to those who are in need of it, with whatever it is they might need."

  "And what do we currently need?" Selina asked them, not understanding their intentions. 

  "Let us show you," Fred smiled, opening the door for her. 

Selina cautiously entered first, seeing a well-decorated dining room before her, with Kelly, Blaise, and Draco sitting at a table, waiting for them. 

  "What's this?" she asked.

  "A party," Kelly told her, "In your honor."

  "My honor?" Selina asked, as Fred and George joined the others, standing by the table.

  "Yes," she responded. "Draco and Blaise told me about your little freeze. It was obvious, really. I figured, since you have no recollection of the party we threw for the start of the year, so... We figured we'd throw you another one. With just us, and the entertainment," she turned to the Weasleys.

Selina looked at the twins, who pulled little concoctions from inside their coat pockets. There were six little vials, all full of a pale blue liquid, one for each of them. 

  "What are those?" she asked her friends. 

  "Smilers," Fred replied, a smile on his face as he and George accepted substantial payments from Kelly.

  "Smilers?" Selina questioned. "Those are illegal to brew."

  "Good thing we've got somewhere to brew them, eh?" George said cheerfully.

  "Those will last for two hours," Kelly Cross informed her. "That's pretty impressive, especially for a couple of Sixth-Years. I told the Weasleys they could stay since they went through the trouble of brewing them for us. We are having a party, after all."

  "What do you say, Sel?" Draco asked. "Care to rage?" 

  She grinned excitedly, snatching one of the glass vials from George. "Fuck yes."

Fred and George passed out the other vials to everyone, all of them ready to drink the clear blue liquid as they uncapped the vials. 

  "Alright, everyone," George looked around the room.

  "Bottoms up," Fred said, tipping his head back as he poured the liquid down his throat, everyone else following suit. 

Selina drank hers, shaking as she forced herself to swallow it. It didn't taste quite as strong as alcohol, but it definitely had a strong, unpleasant taste to it. She gasped after she'd managed to force it down, already beginning to feel the effects. 

  "This is fucking amazing!" she raved, an eerily wide smile on her face.

The others were all equally energetic, laughing and hollering as they began to feel the effects of the concoction. Within the next few minutes, everyone was absolutely out of control, barely conscious of anything at all. They all went from running laps around the room, to jumping on the table and chairs, to participating in loud, incoherent conversations.

Blaise and George were both seated at the table, loudly discussing Quidditch for some reason. Kelly and Fred were both determined to try and remember who it was that had punched Cassius Warrnington at the Valentine's Day party the year before. Eventually, the two moved onto other topics. 

  "I can't believe Diggory got picked for the Hogwarts Champion," Kelly said irritably. "I put my name in before he did!"

  "Oh, you're smarter than Diggory!" Fred insisted.

Selina couldn't remember how exactly, but the two of them soon ended up smashing vases and glasses all over the room. They were throwing just about everything fragile they could find, and Selina and Draco both joined in. Only about thirty minutes had passed since they'd all taken the potions. 

  "I'm bored!" Draco complained, no longer interested in breaking glass and porcelain in the Room of Requirement. 

 "What do you propose we do?" Blaise Zabini asked eagerly, crossing his arms. 

  "I don't know about you lot, but I'm getting the overwhelming urge to go climb the trees outside," Draco proposed breathlessly.

  Kelly gasped, jumping up and down at this new development. "Oh, my God! Yes!" she cried.

  "Let's go climb trees, then!" Blaise exclaimed.

  "I'll go climb some trees," Selina agreed, liking the idea.

All six of them ended up rushing through the halls out to the courtyard. It took them about five minutes to decide that they would all climb the same tree for fun, and then another five minutes to decide which tree they would be climbing together. 

  "Whoever's highest should go first," Kelly deduced. 

  "Draco's pretty high," Blaise suggested, as everyone laughed hysterically at that for no real reason.

  "No, seriously, who's going up first?" Kelly asked the group. "Fred? George?" she asked hopefully.

Both twins seemed as if they'd rather observe. 

  "We'll just watch from over here," Fred responded, smiling innocently. 

  "I'll go up first," Selina volunteered. 

She stepped up onto the tree, quickly jumping up as she found her way onto the lower branches as her friends watched. She carefully reached upward, scaling up higher as she left enough room for Draco, Blaise, and Kelly. 

  "No fair! You're tall!" Kelly cried. 

  "Woah! This is fun!" Selina laughed as she looked down at everyone else.

  "How's the view, Romanov?" George called.

  "From here?" Selina asked, looking down at them. "Ugly!"

The twins laughed at her sitting up in the tree.

  "Aw, that's not very nice!" Fred teased.

  "Who's next?!" Selina demanded triumphantly, waiting for her other friends to come up.

  "Erm... On second thought, I'll stay down here with the Weasleys," Blaise decided prudently.

  "Prat!" Selina yelled at him. "Draco! Get up here so you can help Kelly!"

  "Why do I have to help Kelly?!" Draco complained. 

  "Oh, fuck you, Malfoy," Kelly rolled her eyes, jumping up to climb the tree. 

She forcefully lifted herself up halfway to where Selina was above her. The two girls looked down at Draco, who seemed somewhat apprehensive now that he was actually being expected to follow through.

  "Draco! Hurry up and get up here already!" Selina yelled at him impatiently. 

Draco Malfoy's face twisted into various anxious expressions as he tried to convince himself. Laughing nervously, he hoisted himself up onto the tree, almost slipping a few times as he climbed up. 

  "Fuck!" he gasped, somehow out of breath.

Selina and Kelly both laughed hysterically at him as they watched him pull himself up the tree, digging his hands into the grooves so that he wouldn't fall. Selina cackled so hard at the sight that her stomach cramped so hard it felt more like some kind of aneurysm, and she couldn't feel her face at all.

  "Fuck," Draco gasped, looking up at the two girls as he caught his breath, sitting in the tree as he examined his clothes for rips or dirt, "I can't stop laughing!" he exclaimed.

  "Neither can we," Kelly Cross remarked, still impressed by how insanely euphoric she felt. "Everything's fucking hilarious!"

Selina was sitting on a thick branch higher than Kelly, laughing involuntarily and without any cadence or rhythm as she watched everything else happening below her, surveying like a hawk. It was quite the rush, focusing on everything and being naturally aware of things without the usual existential dread. She was so enamored with her own high that she hadn't even noticed Draco had moved onto more bothersome forms of entertainment. 

  "Why so tense, Potter?!"

Selina felt her own laughter beginning to fade and die out as she realized that he had moved onto his regularly scheduled programming that included the harassment of one Harry Potter, who was, in fact, tense. He turned to look up at Draco and the others. 

  "My father and I have a bet, you see!" he called, antagonizing him further. "I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in this tournament."

A part of Selina wanted to intervene, but she found herself completely unable to stray from the path already laid out for her by her current state. So, she only laughed from up in the tree with Kelly, seeming every bit the Slytherin bully she was thought to be by the rest of Hogwarts. 

Harry was clearly already fed up with Draco, and was beginning to contemplate punching him as he spoke. Draco had now been overcome by a sense of self-confidence that could only be described as arrogance, dropping from the tree without hesitation. 

  "He disagrees," Draco added obnoxiously, Crabbe and Goyle automatically flanking to his side from nearby, "He thinks you won't last five."

Harry lost his temper, which everyone figured was inevitable. Selina could hear a voice in the back of her head telling her to do something and stop this, but all that really came out was laughter. She noticed that Kelly was also on the same page. 

  "Well, I don't give a damn what your father thinks, Malfoy!" Harry yelled at Draco, shoving him away. "He's vile, and cruel! And you're just pathetic," he hissed, at least deciding to walk off instead of escalating the issue.

  "Fuck, I'm so high!" Kelly laughed so hard she was clutching her stomach.

Selina didn't respond, but was feeling the exact same thing as she did her best to force her foolish grin into a more serious scowl. They could see that below them, Draco was completely flabbergasted by what he perceived as disrespect from Harry. 

  "'Pathetic'?" Draco growled, unsheathing his wand to curse Harry.

This alerted Selina, but she still didn't know how to handle the situation, seeing as it all happened very quickly. Laughter was inevitable. Luckily for her, the cantankerous Professor Moody appeared out of nowhere, quickly coming to Harry's rescue. 

  "Oh no you don't, sonny!"

Selina and the rest of her friends all gasped as Moody cast a spell, Transfiguring Draco as he cried out loudly. Selina and the others were all high and laughing hysterically as their friend was transformed into what could only be aptly described as an albino ferret. This, of course, was especially humorous to Fred and George Weasley.

In spite of her shock, Selina only cackled with laughter, doubling over and nearly falling out of the tree as she watched Moody, who was shouting like a maniac and using his wand to move the ferret up and down midair. They all watched Crabbe and Goyle panicking. Selina thought she might die; her stomach was cramping aggressively from all the hysterical laughter. Professor McGonagall had tried to intervene by now, but Alastor Moody was already set on his decision. 

  "Draco?!"

What was even funnier to Selina was that Pansy was now a part of this, horrified by what she saw. She was screaming and probably close to crying, while Professor McGonagall still had no idea what was actually happening. 

Just when she thought things couldn't get any more objectively ridiculous, Moody came up with the clever idea to use his wand to force Draco into Crabbe's pants against the will of absolutely everyone involved. Kelly could hardly stay up in the tree, and wheezed exhaustedly. Crabbe cried and whimpered as Goyle attempted to find a way to get Draco out of his pants, but unfortunately, he was unsuccessful.

Selina saw the little white ferret crawl out from Crabbe's pant leg onto the dirt, looking traumatized even as an animal. She was so shocked by the entire situation she had no idea how to react at this point, and just continued to laugh. Realizing what had actually happened, the Deputy Headmistress waved her wand and returned Draco to his original state, as he hopped  up off the ground, looking disheveled and furious, but also frightened at the same time.

McGonagall did not seem pleased at all. Draco whipped around quickly, glowering in Moody's direction. 

  "My father will hear about this!"

However, he instantly regretted this decision as Moody decided to chase after him. Selina had given up on breathing. 

  "Is that a threat?!" Moody demanded menacingly.

  "Professor Moody!" McGonagall interrupted.

  "Is that a threat?!"

Draco, high out of his mind, now realized what a mistake that was and took off screaming. 

  "Professor...?!"

  "I could tell you stories about your father that would curl even your greasy hair, boy! It doesn't end here!" Moody threatened him further, which everyone found to be completely insane.

Selina could tell Harry was enjoying this thoroughly. 

  "Alastor!" Minerva McGonagall said sternly. "We never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Dumbledore told you that."

  Moody tapped his wand against his chin uncertainly. "He might've mentioned it."

Kelly and Selina still couldn't believe that this man truly existed. 

  "And you will do well to remember it," she scolded him, redirecting her attention to the spectacle that he'd caused. "Away!" 

Crabbe and Goyle both ran away in shame, searching for Draco. The other students were all chased away as Selina and her friends remained, unable to contain their laughter, except for Pansy, who was more freaking out than anything. As Blaise and the twins chuckled amongst themselves down below, Selina and Kelly finally dropped from the tree, overwhelmed by the entire ordeal.

  "Fuck!" Selina gasped. "That was fucking mental!"

  "You can say that again," Fred remarked.

  "That was fucking mental!" George exclaimed.

  "Don't actually say it, you fucking idiot!" his brother cried.

  "I'm going to check on Draco!" Pansy Parkinson exclaimed, running off without another word.

  "Ask him if he needs some kibble, or something!" Blaise called after her, making the others laugh. "God, that was brilliant."

  "I'm going to ask him to teach me that one," Selina remarked, not sure what else there was to do about the situation at this point. 

  "Is anyone else really thirsty?" Kelly Cross questioned, her voice somewhat hoarse now.

  "Yeah. That's one of the side effects," George told her.

  "Let's go get juice," Kelly sighed, as the group made their way to the Great Hall.

As some of her friends sat together at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, Selina eventually left them to use the bathroom. 

  "I'll be right back," she told her friends.

Jasper nodded as she left them, and they continued their conversations. Eventually, it was time for dinner, and she returned to the table, where Amana, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and Jasper were all sitting. For some reason, everyone seemed overly relieved to see her. 

  "Where'd you go?" Jasper Carroll looked up at her.

  "The loo," she repeated, a humorous expression on her face. "What's the matter?" Selina questioned as she sat down beside Jasper. "Why do you all look like that?" 

  "Selina," Jasper said in a serious tone, "Where were you?"

  "I told you, I went to the loo," she repeated, feeling as if no one had been listening to her. 

  "Come on, Selina, where did you actually go?" Pansy questioned.

  "I went to the bathroom!" Selina repeated again. 

  "For two hours?" Blaise stated at her in confusion.

  She blinked profusely for a moment, completely dumbfounded by the question. "What do you mean, 'two hours'? I was gone for ten minutes."

  "Selina," Jasper said worriedly, looking her in the eye, "Dinner started twenty minutes ago. I've been here the whole time, and I have not seen you."

She was still incredibly confused by what they were saying to her. Was this just a joke of some sort that she didn't get?

  "You left to use the bathroom before four-thirty," Draco told her, "It's almost six-thirty."

  "What? That doesn't even make sense!" she said in disbelief.

  "Hey. Selina," Jasper said quietly, leaning in to speak to her, "They told me about what you took with the Weasleys. They're worried about you."

  "Why?" she scoffed. "I'm fine!"

  "Then where were you for the past two hours?" Blaise asked expectantly, trying to get an answer out of her.

Selina froze, not knowing how to answer the question. Nothing came to mind, and she knew she was fucked. 

  "I think things are getting a bit out of control, Selina," her boyfriend said softly.

  "'Out of control'?" she echoed, not understanding. 

The truth was, Selina couldn't remember where she'd been for the past two hours or so. As far as she knew, she'd gone to the girls' bathroom for a few minutes and was on her way back. She knew she'd felt pretty much sober once she'd left the Great Hall, and she had no real idea as to how two hours had passed since she left her friends. 

  "The drinking. It's gotten out of control," Jasper said as everyone else was too afraid to say anything further. 

  "How?" she asked him, caught off guard. "I'm fine, my marks are fine—"

  "We're not talking about grades, Sel," Amana pointed out. "We're not trying to criticize you. We're just worried."

Draco, Pansy, and Blaise all stayed quiet from then on, each for different reasons. Blaise, although he cared very much about his friend, didn't know how to contribute to the conversation. Draco Malfoy was uncomfortable with the topic, and Pansy felt she definitely didn't know enough to help. 

  "Why?" she blurted out. "I'm perfectly fine."

  "No," Jasper insisted, "You're not."

  "Stop trying to create a problem that isn't there! I'm— I'm fine!" she stumbled over her words.

Selina had no idea how to prove that something didn't exist. Pansy looked worriedly at her boyfriend, scared that things might get worse. Draco just looked down at his plate, gulping as he  squeezed his eyes shut. 

  "You lost a week of your memory, Selina," Amana reminded her as gently as she could. "And now, two entire hours."

Draco and Pansy both exchanged worried looks as things continued to escalate. 

  "Hey, that could've happened to anyone! It wasn't my fault!" she exclaimed in disbelief, feeling that the argument wasn't fair.

Selina had done everything she could to be responsible, and to keep herself safe. She felt betrayed when her friends and her own boyfriend  accused her of being reckless. 

  "You got so high, you don't remember where you were for the past two hours. We were worried about you, Selina!" Jasper exclaimed out of frustration.

  "No, I didn't! I was perfectly fine when I left, I don't know what the fuck happened!" she yelled. "That's the truth!"

  "You don't even know what happened," Amana repeated her words, "Don't you think things are getting out of control?"

  "Hey, fuck you, you drink too!" Selina exclaimed.

  "Hey, hey, hey," Blaise murmured, trying to keep the conversation calm and civil.

  "I didn't lose my grandmother over the summer," Amana reminded her gently, as Draco shot her a look.

  "Fuck," Blaise muttered. 

  "Fuck you, Mana! You're my best friend!" Selina yelled. "Your mother got cheated on, and your house burned to the ground too, but I didn't hold it against you every time you drank!"

  "Because I don't drink as much as you, Selina!" Amana Tesfaye looked at her with her eyes burning. "I saw your closet. This summer, every time I went to your house."

Everyone in the group froze. 

  "I saw the bottles in your closet," Amana stated, feeling forced to out her friend.

  "All that proves is that you went through my shit!" Selina argued.

  "Selina, stop attacking Amana. She's just trying to help you," Jasper told her. "No one here is attacking you."

  "Stop treating me like a child!" she cried.

  "Stop acting like one, and we will," he replied smoothly.

  "And, there we have it," Blaise said finally.

  "I'm acting like a child?" Selina questioned, seething as she looked into his calm green eyes. "You're acting like a fucking arsehole!"

Jasper said nothing, his lips pursed together as he tried to deal with the scene that had been created. 

  "I don't know what happened the past two hours, and I know it didn't have anything to do with what I took today. I'm as confused as all of you," Selina Romanov insisted. "So either stop blaming it on me, or fuck off."

Before Jasper could say anything, she got up from the Slytherin table, pushing and shoving her way out of the hall. She stormed back to her dorm, her mind overwhelmed with anger and confusion. She truly had no explanation for what had happened, which made her think that it really had been the potion she'd took hours ago with her friends that caused her lapse in memory.

[pcktsprgrl]

Becca The Slayer pt 1

Fandom: The Freshman/The Sophomore

Pairings: Becca X MC(Trish)

Title: Folie à deux pt 1

Authors Notes:  Well this is an AU where Becca is a vampire slayer and the MC is a vampire. I saw a post somewhere and my brain imploded then came up with this. The fic didn't quite cooperate with me and the characters basically did what they wanted lol. I split it into 3 parts as it is very long.

Enjoy ~PSG

Rating: Mature/ NSFW   Possible triggers ahead!!

Publish Date: 3/3/18

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

I had heard through channels there was a new slayer in town so I made it my mission to eliminate her. Can't have a slayer running about mucking up all the fun to be had in this town. I made my plan to watch her until I found the perfect opportunity. Nothing could've prepared me for what I saw that night...

I down the rest of my drink.

"Calling it an early night?" the bartender asks while wiping down the bar.

I fix my tie and straighten up my jacket."Business."

"Of the slayer variety?" he inquires and I growl.

Outside in the night air I listen and breath deep. I hear a faint sound of fighting and smirk, "found her.." stealthily I creep down the alley.

If I had breath I'm sure it would've caught in my throat. She was so beautiful, like goddess quality beautiful. And the way she fought? Poetry, absolute perfection.

I watched from the shadows as she took out half dozen of my kind, a glint in her eyes as she did it. Her long wavy blonde hair swirled as she threw a back kick and spun staking the vampire. Then did a flip that lands the heel of her boot to one of their faces. I cringe as she stomps down on the chest of the last vamp sending him into a dusty oblivion.

She spins now looking straight at me, though I'm sure she can't see me but she senses me. I smirk while I study her. She has great instincts.

She stands at the ready and I get the best look at her yet. Blonde hair to just beyond her shoulder blades, stunning blue eyes, cherry red lips, the plunging neckline of her shirt gives away enough of her cleavage to leave me wanting more. My attention is drawn from the blood I can see coursing through her pulse point to the rise and fall of her chest.

I can feel a hunger growing in me I hadn't felt in years. More than my usual blood lust. I felt a low growl rumble in my throat.

I turn and quickly make my way into the darkness and away from her.

Back at the bar the next night I order my usual double whiskey.

"Slayer hunting done already." a voice calls from beside me and I snarl.

"Maybe I'll take a poke." I spin to see Darren standing there smirking at me. I leap forward clenching my fist into his throat."She's mine!"

"Ok ok sheesh."

I drop him and storm off. “Tonight, I will kill her!”

I find her that night sitting alone as her friends leave and suddenly I'm walking towards her. She spins startled and I just stand there blinking as she's even more stunning up close .

"Hi!" she smiles at me and her eyes sparkle.

"Can I uhh help you?" she asks with a look of concern on her face.

"You're beautiful. " I murmur before I can stop myself.

She's blushing now. "And you're... quite forward." she laughs and its the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

“I just speak the truth.”

She quirks an eyebrow at me and appraises me thoughtfully. "You're not so bad yourself." she remarks and I stammer.

She hops down from the picnic table she was sitting on and extends her hand. "Becca."

"Trish." I shake her hand firmly and she stares down at it.

"Have a drink with me?" I query and just when did I lose control over my own body?

She bites her lip then nods. I tip my hat and offer her my arm. She giggles but slides her arm into mine.

At the bar we slip into a far booth with our drinks and she appraises me thoughtfully over her mimosa.

“So..What were you doing out this late?” she questions with a quirked eyebrow.

“I uh..work.” I mutter as I sip my whiskey and she quirks an eyebrow at me.

“And you?” I ask her.

“Oh. Just hangin. You know friends and whatever..” she shifts uncomfortably in her seat then glances around the bar.

So it went for two months we'd meet for drinks tell each other about ourselves though I could tell she was holding back and I think she had her suspiscions about me. Then we'd say goodnight me tipping my fedora and her giggling.

Until one night we were standing a little too close. I could see the tiny specks in her eyes I reached out and tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and suddenly her lips were on mine.

I shudder and stammer before stepping back tipping my hat then walking off. This night there is no giggle and I pull my trench coat tighter around myself stuffing my hands in my pockets against the cold I can't feel.

Our tongues dance and my hands grip her ass roughly causing her hips to push into me. I back her up against the wall and lift her so her legs wrap around me. She grunts in surprise and I break the kiss allowing her to breath.

I bite down roughly on her neck but don't allow my fangs to come out. She pushes her hips harder into me and digs her fingers into my scalp

causing my hat to fall.

"Fuuccckkk Trish!" she calls breathless and suddenly I'm snapped from my hormonal haze.

I step back placing her on her feet."I...can't.." I bend for my hat when something heavy comes down on my head.

“Trish!” I can hear her scream but my head is foggy. “Oh, you don't even know how dead you are!” She commands and I hear the anger in her voice.

Suddenly I'm leaping to my feet snarling and looking around for whoever hit me. When I catch sight of Becca and her alarmed expression, I realize I must be completely transformed. The moment doesn't last though as voices come from all around.

[onehandedbooks]

Folie à Deux- part three: the potentially thrilling conclusion! 

Chef!Hannibal gets his “revenge” on FoodCritic!Will for his scathing review of Hannibal’s new restaurant, folie. 

Will parked around the corner from folie at five of eight on Friday night. He got out of the car, tugging at the collar of the tux Bev had shoved him into. His face was shaved within an inch of its life, skin still singing with the scrape of the razor, and he fought the urge to scrub his palms across his cheeks to make it stop.

He started towards the restaurant, checked his watch, then turned around to circle the block because who did Lecter think he was, honestly? 8 p.m. sharp. When he finally came around to the front of the restaurant at 8:15, it was quiet. The dark green fabric shades were drawn over the big plate glass dining room windows. The double doors were shut. There were no lights, no music, no people.

Will frowned and pulled Lecter’s notecard from the inside pocket of his tux jacket. It still read “I would appreciate the pleasure of your company for dinner at folie this Friday night. 8 p.m. sharp.” He put the card back in his pocket and was just about to reach for his cell phone when the doors to folie swung open.

“Mr. Graham,” Hannibal said. “Thank you so much for coming.”

Hannibal smiled then and caught Will’s eye and Will blushed down to his collar. He’d never actually met Lecter, only seen him at a distance at restaurant openings or in print in the society pages. He was even more compelling in person than he’d been on last week’s episode of Conjurer’s Kitchen, which Will definitely didn’t have saved to his phone, where he’d held forth, smiling and arrogant (and handsome),  on the supremacy of French buttercream.

Hannibal held the door open for him and stepped to the side. “Please. Come in.”

Will looked past Hannibal into the empty restaurant, face drawing tight with suspicious confusion.  “Where’s everyone else?

“I cancelled the gala,” Hannibal said casually. As if it were obvious. As if it meant nothing.  “The culinary adventure will be yours and mine tonight.”

“You’ll murder your restaurant with that kind of scandal,” Will muttered, a little stunned.

“Oh, I think you may have already struck it a fatal blow,” Hannibal said, with more cheer than he had any right to. “I thought you might enjoy it if I cooked for you, given your disastrous last supper here, and I didn’t want any distractions.”

Hannibal led Will past rows of empty green chairs and tables and into the kitchen. The overhead lights were dim and every steel surface was set with flickering candles that made the metal gleam. The burning sizzle of the candles and the smooth sweet smell of good wax reminded Will strongly of church.

In the midst of all the cool chrome was a long butcher block table, with one place setting and two chairs, set at an angle to one another at the closest end. 

The table itself held a vast glittering repast. Hannibal’s gala menu writ small, Will assumed. It was giving off the most delicious savory-sweet aroma. Will’s mouth watered and he closed his eyes briefly and inhaled, letting the wonderful scent fill him up.

Hannibal watched him for a moment, for the pure enjoyment of it, then pulled out one of the chairs and gestured for Will to take it.

“Your reviews show a true and deep understanding of the things you’re eating,” Hannibal started. “Not yet a completely sophisticated palate, perhaps, but getting there.”

Will gave him an offended little look at that and Hannibal decided to cut his carefully curated remarks short before Will’s irritation could bloom. He really was a remarkably prickly man.

“Well,” he continued, putting a hand on the back of Will’s chair to push it in. “I look forward to your assessment of the menu.”

Will glanced across the table. There were some clearly identifiable dishes- a miniature pastry of some kind; tiny pink cubes, probably watermelon, topped with origami prosciutto; bite-sized medallions of some kind of meat swirled with red- but others were entirely unfamiliar. Was that …jello? With a whole school whitebait embedded in it?

“I’m definitely… intrigued,” Will offered finally.

Hannibal smiled slightly. He took the dark red napkin from beside Will’s plate and shook it out. Instead of handing it to him, however, or draping it over his lap like some over-eager maître d’, he began folding it. First in half, diagonally, and then over on itself until it became something of a long tapered ribbon.

“I wonder if you would indulge me, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal began. “I find that removing sight can enhance the experience of the food. Would you allow me to cover your eyes?”

“How will I see to eat?” Will asked, flat-footed. Certain there were more important questions he should be asking.

“I will feed you, if you’ll allow it.”

“You’re not eating?”

“As I said, I’d like to do whatever I can to make up for your horrible experience with my former underchef, Mr. Gideon, and I don’t want any distractions.”

Will looked up at Hannibal, at his sharp little smile and the lean, predatory line of his body. At the folded fabric stretched loosely between his hands, ominous and exciting. 

There was absolutely no legitimate reason for Hannibal to propose this and no possible reason that Will should agree. And yet, he knew he was going to.

“Where is Mr. Gideon now?” Will whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back a little so that Hannibal could wrap the crimson cloth over his eyes.

“Departed,” Hannibal said, his voice suddenly hard and cold as the steel that surrounded them. Then, off Will’s anxious expression, a softer and more teasing response. “Departed these meager environs for greener pastures where his mediocrity might be tolerated. A short-order kitchen along the highway somewhere, perhaps.”

Hannibal knotted the folded napkin firmly, then took his seat at Will’s right.

Will flinched when Hannibal moved the chair in closer to the table; the scrape of the wooden legs across the tile floor was enormous. 

Then there was the clink of steel on china and a sudden punch of brine.

“This the first thing,” Hannibal started simply, holding out a little silver spoon with a single glistening black pearl cradled in the center.

Will raised his hand automatically, reaching blindly in the direction of Hannibal’s voice to take whatever it was Hannibal was offering. Hannibal caught Will’s wrist and drew it back down, pressing his hand against his thigh again.

“No,” he said. “Let me.”

Will shivered at that, twisted his fingers in the fabric of his trousers to keep his hands still. He opened his mouth a little and Hannibal delicately spooned the small cool orb onto his tongue.  

Will pressed the gelid sphere against the roof of his mouth where it popped, releasing a puff of hickory salmon smoke then a wash of savory salt. He hummed with pleasure and licked his lips, chasing the fleeting flavor.

“Caviar gel and Nova smoke,” Hannibal said. It had been terribly tricky to work out how to do it and he couldn’t begin to disguise his pride in the achievement. 

There was a sort of busy hush after that and Will opened his eyes in the red haze behind the blindfold. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew Hannibal had gone somewhere. Could feel his absence all along his side like a draft. He heard the gurgle of liquid in a glass just off to his right and turned towards it. Startled a little when the thin rim of a wineglass touched his mouth.

“Drink,” Hannibal encouraged, tilting the glass.

Crisp white wine, thick with cold, bathed his tongue and Will swallowed. Mineral peach and honey lemon. Dry and delicate and smooth.

“Good?” Hannibal inquired.

Will made a small pleased sound and nodded.

“Shall we continue?”

“Yes,” Will answered immediately.

An expectant little pause, as though Hannibal were waiting for something.

“Please?” Will guessed, a flash of warmth blossoming unexpectedly in his belly. He could almost feel Hannibal’s proud answering smile, like sun on his cheek.

Hannibal held out a small warm pastry giving off a fabulously rich and buttery steam.

“Vol au vent,” he offered. “Duxelle and oyster mushrooms sautéed in garlic and brown butter. Picked myself.”

Will opened his mouth eagerly and then closed it again with a sudden snap, frowning. Hickory-smoked salmon and caviar.  A long-cellared Pouilly-Fuissé Tête de Cru.  He’d had something just like that at Loche Fyne when it had opened. Had gushed over the meal in his review, in fact. But that was what, five years ago? And the duxelle and oyster mushroom vol au vent. He’d eaten a little pie like that at the Fig & Oak at least two years ago, right? Rated it very favorably too.

He shifted uneasily in his chair, deeply unnerved. “What is this?” he joked. “Will Graham’s greatest hits?”

Hannibal smiled again, broadly pleased. Clever boy. “Taste is not only biochemical, it is also psychological.”

“Angling to obliterate ‘My Dinner with Abel’ by elevating your competitors’ signature dishes to art?”

Hannibal paused, startled by the sharp teasing insight. “Yes,” he agreed shortly.

He set the remains of the tiny vol au vent down on the table. It seemed he’d crushed it in his fingers at some point. He wiped his hands briskly then looked down at Will, waiting there for him. Eyes bound and lips slightly parted. His cheeks flushed petalpink beneath the red slash of the blindfold. He picked up another fragile mushroom puff, grateful Will couldn’t see the traitorous little tremble in his hand.

“Shall we pick up where we left off, Mr. Graham?”

Will cocked his head to the side as though he could sense Hannibal’s uncertainty. “I think I ought to be Will to you now, don’t you?”

“Will then,” Hannibal said softly, his voice like a caress. “Shall we go on?”

Will grinned, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Yes. Please.”

*             *             *

After the rich earthy crackle of the wild mushroom pastry, there was a forkful of perfectly flaky salt-baked red snapper. A sour cleansing shot of firecold Calvados followed by rich, savory bite of what Hannibal said was pork loin in a sauce of red berries, but tasted strangely unlike any pork Will had ever eaten.

The rough edge of a fabric napkin pressed just below the curve of his lower lip, scraping over sensitive, newly smooth skin.

The sound of steel against bone and the cracking of a shell. The fresh flare of saltwater. Unctuous bloodwarm uni slithering dryly over the tips of a pair of smooth sleek chopsticks and across his eager tongue.

A toothsome little nikuman followed, plump with soursweet filling. Will’s canines pierced its resilient pasta flesh and a bit of sauce spilled from the corner of his mouth. He felt the rough pad of Hannibal’s thumb against his lips, wiping it away, and he flicked his tongue over it deliberately, sucking at the salt-tang of Hannibal’s skin. Hannibal gasped, a sharp spike of indrawn breath.

Will drifted in swoony seductive ease as he ate what Hannibal offered. Chewed and swallowed and opened his mouth for Hannibal again and again. Sighing with deep pleasure after every bite. Feeling cared for and carefree. His eyes closed and his hands lax in his lap as Hannibal fed him. Filled him.

The vast chrome kitchen closed in comfortably around them until there was nothing in the world beyond the spill of candlelight that encircled their table. Hannibal’s knee pressed warmly against the outside of Will’s thigh every time he leaned forward to present some new delicacy, the tips of his fingers brushing ever more intimately over Will’s cheek, his mouth. Trailing delicately down the long pale line of his throat as he swallowed.

The jagged feel of something ice cold against his lips startled Will from his dozy-warm cocoon. His eyes flew open beneath the blindfold and he jerked away in surprise. Hannibal cupped his cheek and turned his head back gently, cooing encouragement.

“Only palate cleanser before dessert,” he murmured reassuringly. “Taste.”

Sharp icy flakes of frozen champagne burned tartly on Will’s tongue and melted away. He sighed with delight and relaxed against the back of the chair, one hand settling on his full belly. He was flushed with good wine and strong brandy and absolutely stuffed.

“Good?” Hannibal asked, a little smug.

“Good?” Will murmured, languid and teasing. “No.”

He sighed again and stretched, his back crackling in a very satisfying fashion. “Delicious. Everything was delicious. You’ve spoiled me completely for any other chef.”

“Have I?” Hannibal asked with shamefully unsuppressed interest.

“Maybe,” Will teased. “I’m pretty sure no other chef would hand feed me all my favorites to make up for a bad review.”

“A terrible review, Will. Shattering. Eviscerating.”

Will tilted his head and grinned in Hannibal’s general direction. “No chef I know would have had the audacity to pull what you pulled tonight, eviscerating review or not.”

And that was definitely the right thing to say; he could almost feel Hannibal preening.

“Dessert,” Hannibal said, when he’d recovered.

“I can’t,” Will groaned. “I can’t eat even one more thing.”

“You’ll have one bite,” Hannibal coaxed sweetly, his voice low. “For me.”

There was another unexpected flutter in Will’s chest. A coil of heat at the base of his spine. “One bite,” he agreed slowly. “For you.”

“Open,” Hannibal murmured and placed a single, shiny red square on Will’s tongue.

The sour candy shell cracked in Will’s teeth revealing a layer of smooth dark chocolate over a chocolate mousse filling. In the very middle was a tiny spherical cage of cherry spun sugar that dissolved immediately against the tip of his tongue.

Will moaned shamelessly, eyes fluttering closed behind the blindfold. “Oh that’s good. I’ve never had anything like it.”

“No you wouldn’t have. Dessert is entirely my design.”

“An original finale to a meal of imitation?”

“A meal of elevation,” Hannibal retorted. “And it’s not quite the finale. I have one more thing for you. But this, you will need your eyes for.”

“You promised there wasn’t anything else,” Will complained, a little surprised at the pouting petulance in his own voice.

“Just wait,” Hannibal chuckled.

He removed the provisional blindfold with a flourish and set it aside. Then he presented Will with a large fragile bowl made from a shallow white shell.

Balanced on its rounded back in the middle of the bowl was half an avocado- dark green pebbled skin wrapped around soft bright green flesh. The smooth round pit like a perfect pebble nestled in the middle. And carved in the flesh all around the pit were the most elaborate whorls and curls and arches. It would have required a steady hand and impeccable exacting effort.

It was a lot of effort to go to for a joke.

“Ostentatious avocado,” Will whispered, smiling.

Hannibal nodded and leaned in to press his lips to the curve of Will’s ear.

“Ostentatious avocado,” he agreed.