#seventh year

[yallthemwitches]

Chapter One

“Do you—” he gasps, hands moving lower. “Do you think about what Snape’s boggart showed us in fourth year? About that kiss during that party in sixth? Because I think about it every bloody day, Evans.”

When he finds the top lace of her knickers, she lets out a small, fluttering sound.

“Seriously—some days I wish I could obliviate myself just to get some peace because–fuck– I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

AN: The steamy sequel of Method Acting is finally here! If you didn’t read MA, this can be read as a stand alone, though I highly recommend reading it at least for this first chapter as it takes place in the time skip in Seventh Year (aka Summer before seventh) Teenage hormones abound!

Read on AO3!

[bitui-n]

First Year to Seventh Year

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬' 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The morning air was crisp as you marched through the halls of Hogwarts, making your way towards the Transfiguration Courtyard. It was March 27th, 1978: James Potter's 18th birthday. You entered the empty courtyard, feeling thankful that you had pulled a jumper on over your pyjamas as the cold air nipped at your nose. You set your gift box down on a bench, taking a seat next to it and letting out a yawn. It was much too early for any student to be out and about, let alone out of bed, so the courtyard was peaceful and quiet.

That was, until a familiar, cheery voice broke the silence.

"Y/n!" James called out, jogging over to you. His glasses had fogged up from the cold air, causing him to stop a few feet away from you. He took his glasses off, wiping them down with his scarf before putting them back on. "Bloody freezing, yeah?" He approached you, pulling the Gryffindor scarf off of his neck and wrapping it around yours instead.

The sincere action made heat rise in your cheeks. You wondered how someone could be so energized at such an early hour. Not only was he wide awake, but he looked damn good. You could tell that he definitely didn't just roll out of bed; surprise, surprise, he had taken the time to style his hair. 

"Good morning, Potter." You grinned, standing up to conceal the gift box behind you. "Care to explain why you had me get out of bed so early?"

James paused for a moment before a frown spread across his face. "Have you forgotten something?"

You tried your best to act clueless, ultimately failing at the sight of the heartbreak written all over his face. "Okay, okay. Happy birthday, James."

He smiled widely, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin on your head. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon filled your nose, making you sigh happily. His signature scent had grown to be familiar and comforting. 

You were snapped back out of your thoughts by his voice scolding you. "You're so mean, you know that? Pretending to forget about my birthday. Unbelievable. I want that scarf back now." James pouted.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're also unbelievable, instructing me to wake up so early to meet you here just so you can get a gift." You pulled back slightly to look up at him.

James looked down at you against his chest and couldn't help but feel a flutter in his heart. "What if I just wanted to start my special day with my girlfriend? Is that so hard to believe, Y/n?"

"Your special day?" You scoffed. "It's just a birthday, James. Not your wedding."

"Our  wedding. And no, it isn't, but it's my 18th birthday! Let me live. Now, about that gift you mentioned..." James smirked, releasing you from his embrace.

You tried to shake off the giddiness you felt from his wedding comment, clearing your throat. "I was getting to that, but I suppose you can open it now." You approached the bench, taking a seat. James sat next to you, picking up the gift box and placing it in his lap.

"Go ahead, I know you'll explode if you have to wait another second." You watched James tear open the gift wrap with the expression of a child on Christmas morning. He then opened up the box, his face lighting up at the contents.

"You're kidding." He pulled out the pair of red Converse high tops, inspecting them carefully. "Y/n, these are perfect."

"You like them?" You sighed in relief.

"Like them? I love them." He kicked off his shoes, putting on his new pair and lacing them up. "How do I look?" He stood up, looking down at his feet.

"You look amazing, James."

"You aren't even looking at my shoes." He grinned cockily.

"I know." You smiled at him, standing up. "Now, where's my thank you?"

James pulled you into another embrace, kissing your head. "Thank you, love. I never want to take them off."

"Just don't get dress-coded." You chuckled, burying your face into his chest. The warmth of his body was a stark contrast against the brisk weather, heating up your body in no time.

"Now, can we find some place to get some more sleep before breakfast?" You asked tiredly.

James chuckled, rubbing your back. "Yeah, let's go. My birthday excitement has been satisfied for now, and I'm sleepy."

The two of you headed back inside the castle, James keeping his arm around your shoulders the whole way.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The two of you roamed the empty halls in search for a cozy spot to rest. James held you close, supporting the weight of your tired body.

The sound of stones shifting broke the silence, causing both of you to stop in your tracks and look to your left, where the sound was coming from. Both of your jaws dropped as you watched the wall form into a secret doorway.

"...Are we seriously sleepy enough to hallucinate?" James inquired, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I don't think so." You said, approaching the door and reaching out for the handle.

"Wait!" James exclaimed, to which you raised a brow. "What if this is a trap or something?" He questioned, stepping in front of you. "I'll open it."

Too tired to argue, you nodded and watched as he pushed the door open.

Inside was a small room, holding the appearance of a cozy bedroom with one large bed in the middle. 

"What is this place?" James stepped inside, examining the details of the room.

"This must be the Room of Requirement." You realized.

"No way. The Room of Requirement was kind enough to lend us a bed? How sweet." James chuckled, carefully taking his new shoes off before flopping himself onto the bed. He shifted onto his back, getting under the covers and patting the spot next to him.

You happily obliged, joining him in the bed and pulling the blanket up to your chin. "This must be the most comfortable bed I have ever laid in."

"Me too." James sighed, pulling you in by the waist. "Let's get as much rest as we can before breakfast, hm?" He burrowed his face in your neck, closing his eyes.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

That evening, you waited in the library for your date with James. That is, until Sirius barged in through the doors, receiving a loud shush from the librarian. "Sorry." He mumbled, scanning his eyes over the room before spotting you.

"Y/n!" He whisper-yelled, lightly jogging over to you.

"Sirius? What are you doing here? Trying to crash my date?" You questioned, shutting the book you were reading to pass the time. James was already 15 minutes late.

"Uh, about that date..." Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "James can't make it."

"What?" You were the one receiving a shush this time, causing you to lower your voice. "Why not?"

"Well, you see..." Sirius stifled a chuckle. "He told me to let you know that he's in detention for being out of dress-code during class. He said something about improper footwear."

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Ron Weasley x Reader

Prompt: Patronus

Tags: fluff, seventh year, Ron is away on horcrux hunting(not that we know tho), flashback to Bill and Fleur's wedding, kiss, feelings are admitted finally

Word Count: 429

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

The room was eerily quiet. It has been three weeks since I moved into the room of requirement. My parents denied working for He-who-must-not-be-named, and went into hiding. Also painting a target on my back for the Carrows. The hammock rocks slowly as I push off the wall. My thoughts wander to Ron, the wizard who I haven’t seen since his eldest brother’s wedding.

“You look kind of nice.” Ron says, scratching the back of his head. I laugh, knowing how he was. Ron never knew how to give a compliment. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” He scoffs. “Hey I look better than did at the Yule ball.” I giggle, leaning into him. “Oh Ronnekins, mum says you need to be a gentleman and take this beautiful girl dancing.” Fred says, wrapping an arm around both of our shoulders. “Oh he doesn’t-” Ron slips out from his brother’s grasp, holding his hand out. “C’mon. You know better than to make mum wait.” I nod, letting him pull me into the crowd. “You really do look good.” Ron says, twirling me. A wide smile forms on my face. “So do you.” Ron freezes, face pales for a brief moment. “Ron?” He leans down, eyes flickering to my lips. His lips brush against mine, like a ghost. 

A blue light appears in the middle of a tent. “The ministry has fallen.” I look at Ron, grasping his hand tightly. “He is coming.” The sounds of apparations fill the tent. “Ron!” Hermione screams,pushing through the panicked crowd. “Ron?” He looks between Hermione and I, squeezing my hand. “I have to go.” He presses his forehead against mine, his spare hand framing my face. “I love you.” His lips against mine, rushed and panicked. “Be safe.

A small light flashes out of the corner of my eye. I sit up, worried one of the first years woken up from a nightmare again. But what I find is a small jack russell terrier. Tears pull into the corner of my eyes. “Ron?” My voice cracks as I reach out, the wisps running through my fingers. “Hey, um hi. Look, well you can’t look. But anyway, I can’t talk long. I just needed to talk to you. I miss you. I'm out here, doing well I can’t really say. But I can say I miss you. And I love you. Oh shit, Harry is coming. I love you. Oh and Happy Christmas.” The patronus fizzes away,leaving me alone once again. Wiping the tears off my face, I smile weakly. “I love you too, Ron.”

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Title: Firsts Between Friends

Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans (background)

Rating: NC17 (for language, smut, underage drinking, recreational drug use, references to child abuse)

Summary: It's the Marauders' last year at Hogwarts; James and Lily are finally going out, leaving Peter, Sirius and Remus to entertain themselves when they go out on dates. Sirius couldn't be happier for them, but it's left him with plenty of time to think about something he's been able to ignore up until now. As a result, he's had a lot on his mind lately, and Remus has noticed.

Notes: written as a companion piece to an upcoming story, Sirius Black and the Daughter of the Mountain King, but this can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: some vague references to child abuse, this takes place in their seventh year

CH 1

Returning to Hogwarts was almost bittersweet now that it was their last time doing so. There were moments when Sirius wished he had a time turner to go back to first year and do it all over again, and others when the prospect of his future seemed like his greatest adventure just waiting to be taken. And best of all, in his opinion, was that he would have his best friends by his side. Regardless of what was happening outside the castle walls, nothing could shake the bonds they’d built over the last six years.

   It was the first weekend of term, and while he'd had images of the four of them doing something grand for their first Friday night back, he hadn't counted on Lily finally agreeing to go out with James. Sirius had almost asked him to reschedule. It was the first Friday night of their seventh year for Merlin's sake! Surely Lily would understand that it was only right that they begin the term with a bang! But as Sirius watched his friend rummaging through his school trunk, muttering to himself about needing tonight to go well, he hadn't the heart to ask. 

   He, Remus and Peter watched on from their respective beds and played a laidback game of muggle catch with a ball Remus had brought from home. Apparently, his mother had recently introduced his father to a muggle game called tennis, which had resulted in numerous green and white balls being left scattered about in their home. 

   "I just want to look good for her," James said, tossing a shirt over his shoulder.

   Sirius arched a brow as he looked over at Remus, tossing the tennis ball to him. "You might want to make sense of that hair then," he teased with a smirk.

   "Oh piss off, Padfoot, I'm serious," James replied, holding a different shirt up in front of him.

   He looked back at James and said, "I don't think she'll care what you look like, mate." 

   "She'll just be happy to be spending time with you," Remus added, throwing the ball to Peter.

   Wormtail said, "She's probably just as nervous as you are." 

   "Yeah, it'll be fine as soon as you get to Honeydukes." Catching the ball that Peter had thrown, Sirius shifted his gaze between his other two friends. "Now we just have to decide what we're going to make of our evening, gents." He threw the ball to Remus, who caught it in one hand.

   "Just as long as it doesn't involve skinny dipping in the Black Lake again," said the werewolf, rolling his eyes. 

   "I second that," Peter replied, catching the ball that was thrown to him. "Jacqueline nearly took me corey off the last time."

   "As I recall, Peter, that was the most action you got all year," Sirius teased.

   "Sod off, will ye, Black," Peter replied, putting a little extra heat into his throw to Sirius.

   "Ooh," Sirius chuckled as he caught it. "It's too bloody cold for a swim anyway."

   "We could always go to Zonko's and see about getting another Frog Spawn Soap to put in the first year bathroom," Remus suggested.

   Peter groaned. "That sounds boring."

   "Well then, Wormtail, what do you suggest?" Remus asked, throwing him the ball.

   "Let's nick some firewhiskey and go down to the Shrieking Shack." He threw the ball to Sirius, who looked rather impressed by the suggestion.

   "I’m up for it," he said, looking at Remus before asking as he threw the ball. "What say you, Moony?"

   "I can't encourage that, I'm a prefect! Anyway, where would we find a bottle?"

   "Slughorn always keeps one in his office," Peter answered. 

   "If you gits get snagged trying to filch Slughorn's liquor, you'll be in detention for a month," James said as he stood holding up two different shirts, turning to face them. "Which one?" he asked, putting one in front of him, then the other.

   Sirius looked at both shirts, grimacing at the multi-colored jumper in his friend's right hand before he pointed to the red button down in his left. "That one. And while we're on the subject, you should burn that ghastly jumper. It's giving me nausea just looking at it."

   "This coming from the man whose wardrobe is made up entirely of jeans and t-shirts just to piss off his family from afar?" James quipped with a slight smirk as he pulled the approved shirt on.

   "Don't forget his precious leather jacket," Remus said as he caught the ball Sirius threw to him.

   "I like the jacket," Peter mused.

   "Thank you, Peter, at least someone in this dormitory has good taste," Sirius said, grinning at his friend as he caught the ball next.

   "'Good taste' is a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?" Remus teased.

   Before Sirius could give a cheeky response, James said, "Right, how do I look?"

   "Like a proper lady," Peter teased, earning a round of laughs from the other two friends.

   James rolled his eyes and began to unbutton his shirt, which prompted Sirius to stand after he caught the ball from Peter.

   "Oi, don't listen to this prat, he's just taking the mickey. You look good," he said as he put his hands on Jame's shoulders, one still holding the ball. "Evans won't know what to do with herself. She'll be wondering what took her so long to realize what a handsome bloke you are." He blindly threw the ball to Remus as James smiled at him thankfully.

   "She turned me down so many times, I'm afraid she'll take one look and change her mind."

   "Don't be daft, she fancies you," Sirius answered with a one-sided-shrug. "Now go and show her a good time."

   "Just be sure to use a johnny," Peter chimed.

   "Oi! Don't talk about her like that," James replied, whipping around to glare at Peter, who held his hands up in mock surrender.

   "Apologies, mate. I were only foolin'," Wormtail replied, throwing the ball to Sirius, who caught it over Jame's shoulder.

   "Bloody wanker," he mumbled before addressing James again. "You'll be fine, alright?"

   "Don't worry so much, James," Remus said from his bed. Sirius tossed him the ball, which he caught before adding, "Just be yourself."

   "Maybe a less pratty version of yourself," Sirius teased.

   James took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, his cheeks ballooning as a result. "Alright. You guys are right. I just need to relax and be myself."

   "That's the spirit," Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. He caught the ball when Peter tossed it to him and immediately threw it to Remus.

   "I'll meet you at the shack after. Wish me luck," James said, earning a choir of 'good luck' as he left the dorms to wait for Lily in the common room.

   Sirius rolled his eyes half-heartedly and picked up his leather jacket, putting it on. "Well? How are we going to get old Slughorn's firewhiskey then?"

   Peter caught the ball, his hand dropping to his lap as the three of them pondered on the question. With Slughorn's office on the sixth floor, they couldn't exactly use the window. 

   Unless…

   "The three point drop," Sirius suggested.

   "Who's going to distract him?" Remus asked.

   Sirius caught the ball that Peter threw, grinning at Remus. "You, of course. You're the prefect."

   Remus rolled his eyes and caught the tennis ball, setting it on his night table as he sighed, "Of course." He stood and grabbed his own jumper, followed the other two out of their room, and down the staircase to the common room. "He'll be trying to cut the conversation short," he warned.

   "You'll have to make the drop in under two minutes, Wormtail," Sirius replied.

   "I can do that."

   "Are you sure? We were nearly found out the last time," Remus said.

   "Sure, I'm sure!" 

   "You know where it is, don't you?" Sirius asked, glancing over his shoulder. Peter was just as much their friend as any one of them, but there were times where he could be a right twit.

   Sirius could practically hear the eye roll as Peter answered, "The top shelf, next to the fireplace. I can do this, don't worry."

   A couple of fifth year girls smiled at Sirius as they walked through the common room. Out of pure habit, he winked in their direction as he, Remus and Peter walked by, smiling at the giggles that erupted behind them as he led his friends out of Gryffindor Tower.

   When they reached the staircase, they split up, Sirius continued down to the entrance hall and out the front doors to wait below Slughorn's window, while Remus and Wormtail, now in his rat form, went up to the sixth floor. Slughorn wasn't one to socialize much except for with his star students, Wormtail would have to sneak past Remus and the professor, transform into his human form, and quickly toss the bottle out the window, then transform back into a rat and sneak past them once more. It was a risk seeing as how Peter had only just learned to transform without a wand… again, but if they could at least secure the firewhiskey it might be worth the detention if they got caught. 

   Tilting his ear up to the half-opened window, Sirius smirked at the sound of Slughorn answering his door, and his and Remus' muffled voices. He looked around to be sure there was no one in the vicinity and pulled his wand out in anticipation, ready to shrink the bottle so that he could easily hide it in his jacket until they reached the Shack. 

   "Mr. Black?" 

   He turned abruptly to face McGonagall, instinctively, placing his hands behind his back. He nonverbally cast a levitation spell when he heard the sound of sloshing liquid above them, something he had only recently perfected. He just hoped it would hold until he could get rid of McGonagall.

   "Good evening, Professor."

   "It isn’t very often I see you without your friends."

   "Oh, I was just enjoying the crisp evening air, admiring the sunset." It sometimes amazed even him how quickly he could think on his feet, even while he concentrated on keeping a bottle of firewhiskey from coming down behind him.

   McGonagall arched a suspicious brow. "Alone?"

   "James is on a date," he answered, quickly adding, "Remus and Peter should be along shortly." 

   She looked a bit skeptical, but nodded slowly. "I expect you'll be back inside by curfew."

   "Mhm," he hummed behind a closed-lip smile. 

   They would likely be spending the night in the Shack. He would have to remember to tell the others that they needed to be in for breakfast in the morning. As soon as she walked into the castle he set his sights on the bottle and let it fall. He slowed its momentum to catch it, shrunk it, and slipped it into his jacket.

   A few minutes later, his co-conspirators walked out the castle, and the three went to the Whomping Willow, where Wormtail pushed the knot for them to sneak under it. 

   "I should get first sip!" Peter declared as they came through the entry hole into the shack minutes later. 

   Remus waved his wand at the fireplace, lighting it. 

   "I took the most risk," Peter continued as he plopped down onto the chaise closest to the fire.

   Not bloody likely, Sirius thought as he rolled his eyes and handed the bottle over anyway, bringing it back to normal size with a point of his wand. He didn't really care who drank first, so long as he could get drunk. With James more focused on Lily ever since the end of last year, it had left Sirius alone with his own thoughts much more often, and they were nothing but chaos as of late. In that time, certain feelings had begun to arise in him, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. Distractions certainly helped, and firewhiskey was a wonderful distraction indeed.

   Sinking into the sofa, he peeled off his jacket and draped it over the back before he waved his wand to put a record in the player.

   "Please, no more Elvis," Remus groaned when he saw the record floating above the turntable. "I still have nightmares from third year."

   Sirius couldn't help the barking belly laugh that escaped as Peter passed the bottle to Remus. "Put on whatever you like then, Moony. We've got all night."

   They had been spending more and more time at the Shrieking Shack ever since beginning their sixth year, which Sirius didn't mind in the slightest. At first he thought Remus might have preferred not to, especially considering the reason they had access to it in the first place, but surprisingly, Remus had been wanting to associate the shack with more than just his monthly transformation. From what he’d told them, having better memories in the Shack helped keep the wolf a bit calmer on the nights when they weren’t roaming around the Forbidden Forest. Plus, it gave them a break in their normal routine.

   "What do you guys think of Sybill Trewlawny?" Peter asked.

   Sirius furrowed his brows. "Who?" 

   "The Ravenclaw who's friends with Emma Vanity's little sister." Remus said.

   "Right. She's alright. A bit strange maybe," Sirius added. "But sweet." He took a swig from the bottle, relishing the burn that slid down his throat and bloomed in his chest before he passed it to Peter. "Wasn't her great-great grandmother that famous Seerer?"

   Of course, Remus was the one to answer. "Cassandra Trelawney."

  "That's the one," Sirius replied.

   Peter simply shrugged. "I've been thinking about asking her on a date."

   "She's a fourth year, what could you possibly have in common with a fourth year?" Remus asked.

   "I dunno, but I think she's rather fit," Peter said.

   Sirius arched a brow as the blonde took a sip from the bottle. He somehow doubted that a bird like Sybill Trelawny would give a prat like Peter the time of day. He didn't know the girl, but she seemed rather captivated by her Divination studies as of late. She could often be found under the tree by the Black Lake with her tarot cards, offering students readings during breaks, and didn't seem particularly interested in romance. Or much of anything else that he ever noticed.

   "Do let us know how that goes, Wormtail," he said with a smirk.

   "You think I should?" Peter asked Remus, handing over the firewhiskey.

   Remus sighed. "I wouldn't find anything in common with a fourth year, but if you fancy her, Peter, I say go for it."

   Peter smiled and leaned back on the chaise, apparently satisfied with the answer.

   "I heard Mary fancies you," Sirus said, gently nudging Remus, whose cheeks flushed a deep pink. Sirius thought it looked rather adorable on him. "You should talk to her."

   Remus shook his head. "She's been rather jumpy since what happened to her."

   "Shame really, what Mulciber did," Peter chimed.

   "Lily said she's been doing much better this year. She seems much more comfortable around people in general," Sirius said as he took a swig and handed the bottle off.

   "Well, that's good to hear," Remus said. "I just don't think I'm good for her."

   "Why the bloody hell not?" Sirius asked.

   "Because, Padfoot, eventually she would start to wonder where I keep disappearing to every full moon. And once she knows, she won't want anything to do with me. Not to mention that she might even take initiative to tell others about my… condition."

   "I reckon, given what she's been through, she might understand," Peter offered. He gave the bottle to Remus after sneaking an extra sip.

   "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Peter," Sirius replied. "She doesn't seem like the type of bird to let that bother her."

   Remus waved him off. "Maybe not, and I am happy to hear she's doing better. But I'm not terribly interested in Mary MacDonald anyhow."

   For a few moments, the only sound was Genesis coming from the gramophone in the corner of the room while they passed the bottle of firewhisky around to each other. Remus shifted his feet and for whatever reason that drew Sirius' attention to the veins in his hand. He found himself captivated by the way one of them raised between the knuckles of Remus' middle and ring fingers, and curled toward the last knuckle, only to disappear further up the back of his hand. 

   "How do you think it's going with James and Lily?" Peter asked, holding back a burp.

   Meeting eyes with Remus, Sirius quipped, "I suppose if he has boils when he gets here we'll know," with a laugh.

   Remus joined in the laughter, followed quickly by Peter, the former replying, "You don't think he'll try to bring her here after, do you?"

   "Merlin, I hope not," Sirius mumbled. "I like Evans, but she can be quite finicky about following the rules."

   "I think she’s brilliant," Peter said into the bottle before sneaking another drink.

   "You would," Sirius quipped.

   "Piss off, Black."

   For the next couple of hours, they drank and laughed, throwing out a few more theories about how James' date was going. At some point, Sirius found himself noticing how slender and long Remus' fingers were when they grazed against his while they passed the bottle between them. He knew Remus was more keen to drum on his bed, but he imagined if Remus ever wanted to take up another instrument, he certainly had the fingers for the piano.

   After sneaking one too many extra sips, Peter tipped over, his face landing on the chaise cushions. Remus and Sirius held back laughter as the former swiped the bottle from their passed out friend. 

   "Lightweight he is," Sirius mumbled as Remus took a drink. "So what's this about you thinking you're no good?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Earlier, when we were talking about Mary, you said you don't think you're good for her," Sirius replied, taking the bottle when it was offered. 

   "That doesn't mean —"

   "Which is what you've said about every girl that's ever taken an interest," Sirius said. 

   Remus took a deep breath, one hand running through his hair. "As much as I would love to have a normal life; date, shag… bloody hell, even kissing, I can't. What if I can't control the wolf? What if I end up killing someone? Blimey, I nearly did kill someone two years ago."

   Frowning to himself, Sirius shook his head and mumbled, "That wasn't your fault," before he took a swig from the bottle. 

   Remus had been more than generous in forgiving him for that stupid prank he had pulled in their fifth year, if it could even be called a prank at all. Sirius had never imagined that Snivellus would actually listen to a bloody thing he had to say. Still, he couldn't help but feel as though he had inadvertently betrayed one of his best friends just to get one over on the greasy git. Not always thinking things through had always been a glaring flaw of his, and it was something he seemed to continue to struggle with more often than he'd liked. He was lucky Remus started speaking to him again, let alone continued being his friend.

   "That doesn't change that I almost killed Severus… and Prongs," Remus replied. "I can't take the risk. Besides, I don't want anyone else to know about my illness. It was hard enough telling you three, I can't imagine having to tell a girl that I fancy why I disappear once a month. Even if I did date someone who was understanding about it, being with me would make them just as much of an outcast as my kind is. How could I ask that of someone?"

   Sirius stared at him for a moment as he drank again from the bottle and processed what Remus said. He couldn't think of anyone else as selfless or caring as his friend, so it was difficult to hear him think so little about his potential happiness. He was the type of bloke most fathers would be happy to see their daughters with; kind, respectful, hard-working, and brilliant. 

   "Don't you think people should be able to make that decision for themselves?" he asked, holding out the bottle.

   "Not if that means I have to risk telling them my secret," Remus answered.

   Sirius conceded that as a fair point, but then something else stuck out about his friend's confession, "Did I hear right? You've never even kissed anyone?"

   Remus' cheeks flushed with red again, growing a deeper shade by the second as he avoided eye contact and barely shook his head. "From what I've gathered, kissing always seems to lead to something else."

   "It doesn't have to," Sirius said, his eyes faced forward. He was trying so hard not to stare at the delectable color of his friend's skin, especially now that he was wondering how it might taste. "Sometimes kissing is just fun."

   As confident as he always was around girls, Sirius had begun to notice other facets of his sexuality emerging, which didn't make him feel quite as confident. It seemed that he woke up one morning and had started to notice boys as well. Deep down, he knew that he had always been interested in boys — tall boys, short boys, light boys, dark boys, it didn't seem to matter — but it had been much easier to ignore when he had his three best friends to come up with new pranks with. Now that they were older, however, and coming to an end in their Hogwarts journey, there was less prank planning to keep his mind occupied, especially now that James and Lily were dating, giving the dormant parts of his subconscious the space to thrive. Of course, he wasn't sure what to do with this newly-flourishing interest nor did he even know how he would go about exploring it. He knew he wasn't gay, he still liked girls… he just also seemed to possibly like boys, and he didn't quite know what to do with that information.

   "Still," Remus answered, snapping him back to their conversation. "If you enjoy it with someone, you're likely to do it again, and eventually it will lead to more."

   Despite himself, Sirius looked up, his eyes immediately  finding Remus' pouty lips, and his heart fluttered. He blinked and averted his eyes, licking his own lips as he brought the bottle up for another sip. "There's got to be some work around."

   "I doubt it. Unless I fell in love with another werewolf I suppose," Remus replied, using his wand to switch out the record. "But that's already so rare, I doubt it'll happen. Sex Pistols?"

   Sirius cut his eyes to Remus. "What?" 

   "Is it alright if I put on The Sex Pistols record?" Remus asked again.

   "Oh, right. Sure," Sirius answered, leaning his head back against the sofa. Why was he now thinking about snogging one of his best friends? "What if it was someone who already knew about you being a werewolf?" 

   Remus arched a brow at him. "Apart from my parents, the three of you and Dumbledore are the only ones who know about my condition. Well, and Severus, I suppose."

   "Please don't try to snog him," Sirius replied, hoping the levity would lighten the mood, and also take his mind off of imagining how Moony's lips would feel against his. "Or Dumbledore for that matter. Actually, you know, if you did snog Dumbledore, that might help us avoid any future detentions."

   "Bloody prat," Remus said, taking a moment before he passed the bottle back to his friend. "So… are you going to tell me what's been going on with you or are we still trying to avoid it by talking about me?"

   Sirius shrugged as he took a swig from the bottle and swallowed, handing it back. He was already feeling a strong buzz, but maybe if he got himself too drunk to speak, he could just pass out. "I don't know what you mean."

   "You've been rather quiet the last couple of weeks. More reserved than usual."

   His fingers began to play with a loose thread on his jeans as he gave another shrug. He hadn't told a soul about his attraction to other boys, not even his three closest friends, mostly because he didn't want to have to deal with Peter taking the piss out of him for it. He knew Remus and James wouldn't, and the latter would reign Peter in straight away. And normally Sirius couldn't care less what others thought of him save for comparing him to his family, but this was somehow different. It felt fragile. Special, like if he allowed anyone to make light of it, it might break him. He didn't know how to even begin unpacking it all.

   "Come on, Sirius," Remus said beside him, setting it down on the coffee table. He turned slightly, bringing his knee up on the sofa. "I know we fool around much of the time, but you know you can trust me. I can tell there's something going on with you. I want to help, but I can't if I don't know what it is."  

   Casting a quick glance to Peter, who had just turned over onto his side with a brief snore, Sirius swallowed and looked back at Remus. "I'm not even sure how to begin to be quite honest. It's just something I think I've been feeling for a long time, but only just began to notice more a short while ago. I'm still trying to understand what it means."

   He was grateful that Remus didn't press, but rather pulled his leg closer to the back of the sofa so that he was facing him fully, and waited patiently.

   "Seems… I like witches," Sirius started to say, earning a soft chuckle from Remus just before he added, "and wizards. Well…" He couldn't exactly be sure because he'd hadn't yet acted on it, but then wasn't the fact that he did indeed plan to act on it enough? "I think I might."

   Remus let out a breath as a smile started to form on his lips and said, "Well I'm glad it isn't something more serious."

   With furrowed brows, he flickered his eyes to Remus. "It is serious, you tosspot!"

   "I just meant that I thought it was something to do with your family or something that was a matter of life and death or —"

   "Bloody hell, Remus, you and your dramatics, honestly," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

   "With what's been happening outside of Hogwarts, can you blame me?" Remus asked. "Did you hear that a number of fifth year Slytherins have already taken the dark mark?"

   "I think that's just a rumor," Sirius replied, though the suggestion had brought a panic in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Regulus, who had been avoiding him more and more as of late it seemed.

   "Well, is there someone you fancy in particular?" 

   Sirius smirked to himself, silently thankful that Remus hadn't continued talking about the Slytherin rumor, though the topic he chose instead wasn't exactly an easy one either. "No, not in particular. I've just been," he tried to find the proper words and settled on, "noticing things."

   "Such as?"

   Sirius tilted his head and said, "Dirk Cresswell's neck and how I think about biting it." Remus widened his eyes in his peripheral vision, which prompted him to look back and add, "Not hard, just a playful little nip. And Davey Gudgeon's lips, Gideon Prewett's eyes." The corner of his lips formed another smirk as he dropped his head onto the back of the sofa, and added, "Oh Remus, the dirty thoughts I've had about looking into those eyes."

   The deep red returned to Remus' cheeks as he subtly shifted in his seat. Sirius couldn't help but admire the color.

   "How cute you look when you blush," he said as though it were another observation on his list. His lips itched again to feel those of his friend when the color spread down to Moony's neck. His eyes fell on Remus' pulse point, visibly throbbing as if begging him to taste it. Wetting his lips, Sirius said breathily, "Remus," and waited until his friend looked back at him before he asked in a whisper, "What if I gave you your first kiss?"

   Each second that passed was marked by a thick, sharp thump that grew in his chest and reverberated in his ears. He couldn't believe he'd just had the stones to ask his friend such a question when he didn't even know whether Remus was attracted to boys as well. Without much of a second thought, Sirius had risked their friendship, and it was too late to take it back. Why couldn't he just learn to think through things first?

Read the rest here!

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Seventh Year Bonus Scene 4

I just realized I can share this bit! This is from Chapter 9, right after Michael tells his siblings that yeah, he'll go back with them. The reason I didn't share it earlier is because I was leaning hard into Michael's narration and didn't want to show you guys what he was missing and also what he was giving off to his siblings.

Now that Chapter 10 has dropped, we can start to pull that curtain aside.

So! Here's the 4th bonus scene for Chapter 9! Appreciate your thoughts! :)

Bonus Scene 1

Bonus Scene 2

Bonus Scene 3

**

“Not now. You can go if you’d like, but I’ll follow later.” Michael didn’t even leave them time to respond before he flew off to Hogwarts.

Gabriel stared after him, confused and vaguely upset about the abrupt brush off. Where had that come from?

“What a dick,” he muttered, then stepped hastily to the side when an unimpressed unicorn head-butted his shoulder.

He’d thought Michael had been different, had picked up on that sense of weariness and grief at first. And, sure, they’d had that heart-to-heart on an asteroid in the middle of outer space, but for the most part Michael was…essentially as Gabriel remembered him.

Stoic, slightly cold despite the heat of his Grace, and a yes-man.

“Gabriel,” Raphael said reprovingly.

“What?” Gabriel huffed, taking the bag of magical sweets in hand. He’d been surprised when Michael had paid for the sweets rather than just whisking it all away, but he supposed that even Michael had to pick up some human customs after six years here. “You know it’s true, Raphael.”

“I’m sure he’s processing,” Raphael said. “He took it remarkably well.”

Yeah, Gabriel had to give Michael that. He’d been worried about telling Michael about having Created brand new souls. Michael had been dead silent with a blank expression, but then all he’d asked was…

All he’d asked was what their Father had to say.

Honestly, Gabriel had once been worried about that, too, but there were some who hadn’t even considered that (Gadreel being a prime example). And for Michael to hinge everything on that…

He really hadn’t changed at all, had he?

“If he’s processing,” Gabriel said eventually, “I don’t want to know what’ll happen when he’s done processing. We hit him with a lot of info.”

“It might not be what you’re thinking,” Raphael said. “There was a great deal Michael never let you see, Gabriel.”

“He showed it to you?”

“No.” Raphael shook her head lightly. “But last night… How much did you hear?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Gabriel admitted, since he’d wanted to give Raphael privacy. He’d had only a small eye on the conversation to make sure things didn’t go south.

“I caught something just now,” Samael said, rubbing briefly under nir eyes before looking back at Gabriel. “He…regrets.”

Gabriel sure hoped Michael had regrets. Everything that had happened and everything he did…regrets were the least of what Michael should have.

He abruptly remembered the flash of guilt and hurt from Michael yesterday after Gabriel’s comment about him sitting on his hands. It had been sharp enough that Gabriel had felt guilty about the jab, but not guilty enough to apologize because it was true.

Michael had sat on his hands long enough through the years, shouldering off his duties to Gabriel and doing basically nothing aside from plotting the damn apocalypse and ordering the wiping of their siblings.

But for someone who felt regret, Michael sure didn’t look like he did.

No, he still carried that air of cold superiority. Gabriel had honestly thought Michael would kill Pansy Parkinson for what she’d said if she didn’t apologize properly. The only reason he hadn’t stepped in had been because Michael’s two friends hadn’t seemed quite so alarmed (Malfoy had looked more hurt at Parkinson’s words than focused on Michael).

Michael hadn’t protested either. The only sign of actual emotion he’d given had been when Malfoy had seemed ready to do something entirely un-wizardlike.

It was still disbelieving that Michael had friends – let alone human friends.

“I could have told you that,” Raphael said to Samael, unimpressed. 

“He didn’t seem very regretful just now,” Gabriel noted, glancing to where Michael had been standing.

“No, he…” Raphael hesitated. “He was different last night. He…apologized.”

Gabriel blinked. He’d never known Michael to apologize. “He did?”

“He has regrets,” Raphael said shortly. “The same regrets I do.”

Gabriel breathed in, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out.

“I’m so tired, Gabriel.”

Michael had spent practically all this time in their Father’s Grace, in that place where angels went after dying if they were saved, and he still felt tired.

Gabriel wasn’t even entirely sure what Michael had gotten up to here aside from apparently killing Voldemort so Harry Potter didn’t have to. And hadn’t that been a surprise to hear.

“Well, looks like he’s coming back with us,” Gabriel said when no one else spoke. He had the niggling sensation that it all seemed too easy.

“Yeah,” Samael said slowly, “guess he is.” Ne seemed doubtful.

Gabriel glanced at nem. “What?”

“I’m just…a bit surprised.” Samael shrugged. “You’ve seen him around his friends, haven’t you?”

“A bit.” Michael had amassed what looked like quite a crowd here. And Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure what was up with the Malfoy boy…

“I’m just saying,” Samael said, frowning slightly, “I haven’t seen him like that in a long time. He wouldn’t listen to me at all. He wasn’t fighting me because he wanted to. It felt more like he was doing it because he had to.”

“That’s a difference from before?” Gabriel asked.

Samael sighed. “He never wanted to fight me, Gabriel. Not back then and not during the apocalypse. This didn’t feel any different, but he also felt really determined. That was new.” Ne made a face. “And then there were his friends. They were also weirdly determined to step in, but Michael was just as set on keeping them out. He kicked me into a lake,” ne complained.

“How are you even surprised?” Raphael sounded exasperated.

“I really shouldn’t have been, but now I’m more surprised by his friends. And that he seems just fine with leaving them behind.”

Gabriel might have said that perhaps they weren’t really friends. Perhaps it had just been convenient for Michael to make nice with them while he was the only angel here.

But that was absolutely ridiculous. Michael could have just not done anything on Earth at all. But he had. And he’d…made friends.

So perhaps he’d changed a little.

“Has he changed?” Gabriel asked, directing the question to Raphael.

Raphael considered the question, tilting her head back. “I think so,” she said. “Changed enough to regret, certainly. He wasn’t in a place for that before. Neither of us were.” She met Gabriel’s eyes. “He hid himself from me as well,” she said quietly. “There were doubts he had back then that he never shared. The same doubts I held but which I also held back.” She smiled mirthlessly. “You wear masks, Gabriel. Michael has his own.”

Gabriel had never pictured Michael as the type to wear masks. But then…

He had never spent the most time with Michael, had he? Samael had been closest, and then it had been Raphael. But as for Gabriel…

When he cast his memories back to the early days, he remembered Michael as somewhat distant. He had been there, but he’d also left Gabriel mostly to Samael, only occasionally expressing some kind of disapproval or dismay or mild amusement at their antics.

But masks…

Michael hadn’t seemed to wear any when Gabriel had first seen him here. He’d been at once exhausted, pained, bewildered, and…happy. But sometime within the last day those emotions had disappeared, replaced by the older brother Gabriel was so familiar with.

Was it all a mask?

Gabriel couldn’t read Michael.

“So…does he want to leave or not?” The question left his lips before he realized he was even considering it.

“I don’t know,” Raphael admitted.

“You were the one saying he wears masks!”

“Just because I know it’s a mask doesn’t mean I know what’s under it!” Raphael sounded irritated. She turned to Samael. “What about you?”

Samael startled, head jerking up. “Ahh…that’d be a no.”

“Really?” Raphael pursed her lips. “You were closest to him—”

“A long time ago, Raphael.” Samael sounded tired. “He’s changed since then. And we didn’t exactly talk while we were in the Cage.” Ne grimaced, looking down to the grass. “I have no idea what he’s thinking, and he wouldn’t tell me either. He doesn’t trust me.” Nir shoulders slumped.

Gabriel would have been extremely surprised if Michael had decided to trust Samael. “Let’s give him some more time on that.”

Samael smiled weakly. “Sure. Besides, he’s coming with us, isn’t he? He could have said no.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said slowly, something still niggling at him, “he could.”

He could so easily find out what that niggling was, but he’d already decided not to go that route.

Exhaling slowly, Gabriel pushed down the newly expanded part of himself that granted that omniscience.

He’d find out what it was later.

Hopefully it wouldn’t bite him in the ass.

“You do realize,” Raphael said, “that you told him nothing of your friends. The same friends who are now a mixture between angel and human.”

Gabriel winced. “Ah, uh… I’ll tell them to hide?”

Raphael shot him an unimpressed look. “For how long?”

“Until I tell him?” Gabriel was not chasing after Michael now. “I can’t exactly rescind the invitation now, can I?”

“You could,” Samael said brightly. “But he’d probably want to know why.”

Ugh. Gabriel knew it had been too easy.

[okwritingandpain]

Hogwarts Legacy: The Curse of The Ravenclaw House Chapter Index

Summary: It had been two years since the events that transpired underneath Hogwarts. Life wasn't the same and the headmaster was doing all he could to make your life a living hell. When mysterious stained glass windows start appearing around the school, it is up to you and Professor Black to figure out its origin. (Spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy).

Chapter 1: Seventh-Year Growing Pains

Chapter 2: In the Commons

Chapter 3: Curses

Chapter 4: Mending Cracks

Chapter 5: Toujours Pur

Chapter 6: The Shadow

Chapter 7: The Respiratory

Chapter 8: Trial One

Chapter 9: A Sirius Matter

Chapter 10: Secret Affairs

Chapter 11: The Ominis Curse

Chapter 12: Trial Two

Chapter 13: The Raven is Dead

Chapter 14: To His Dismay

Chapter 15: The Guide

Chapter 16: Trial Three

Chapter 17: Woes

Chapter 18: Flowers

Chapter 19: Betrayal

Chapter 20: Trial Four

Chapter 21: Half-Blood

Chapter 22: Exile

Chapter 23: Ancient Magic

Chapter 24: Lover Boy

Chapter 25: Mudblood

Chapter 26: Up To Bat

Chapter 27: Return of The Raven

Chapter 28: No More Pure Bloods

Chapter 29: Final Battles

Chapter 30: Pure of Heart

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Seventh Year

At the end of every seven years you must cancel debts. This is the manner of remission: Every creditor shall cancel what he has loaned to his neighbor. He is not to collect anything from his neighbor or brother, because the LORD’s time of release has been proclaimed. You may collect something from a foreigner, but you must forgive whatever your brother owes you. — Deuteronomy 15:1-3 | The Reader’s Bible (BRB) The Reader’s Bible © 2020 by Bible Hub and Berean.Bible. All rights Reserved. Cross References: Deuteronomy 15:9; Deuteronomy 23:20; Deuteronomy 31:10; Nehemiah 10:31

[uncertainwallflower]

A WELCOME DISTRACTION For @jilymicrofics. Prompts: red, breeze, hurl, glance. Words: 284.

The Quaffle came hurling towards him. Again and again. Unrelenting. Thud, thud, thud.

"Oi, Potter!"

He glanced towards the voice.

Thwack. Bloody fuck!

"Sorry, Cap!"

The Quaffel was falling away to the rain-sodden earth. The sting of the wet leather on his shoulder mingled with the blinding light of the pink setting sun in his eyes. James waved off the young Chaser hovering a few feet away from him, eyes shifting, apologetic.

As he dove to collect the dropped ball, his eyes found the cause of his lost focus. Lily. He grinned and redirected his broomstick, touching down just before her and striding the rest of the distance between them.

She was chewing her lip. Her nose was tipped pink from the breeze, her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, a well-knit beanie pulled down firmly over her ears which James knew would be pink, too otherwise.

He grinned, stooping down to kiss her.

"Jesus, James, you're freezing!" She said, gripping his face in an attempt to warm it with her mittened hands.

He shrugged. "Better now."

And she rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. It dropped a little. "Sorry, by the way."

"For?"

She poked his red-robed shoulder and he hummed, saying she could make it up to him later, which earned a firm smack on the other shoulder.

Still laughing, he asked, "What are you after?"

"Oh, McGonagall wants us to meet with her once you finish practice. Something urgent apparently."

"Right." He nodded and, stooping for another kiss, murmured, "Better get back to it then."

"Yeah, better." She was grinning, gripping the front of his Quidditch robes and he didn't get back to practice for a good few moments.

AO3

[arielle-reads]

It took less than a moment for the one good thing left in Pansy’s life to crumble.

She knew going into her last year of Hogwarts that things would be…unconventional. What she didn’t expect was the level at which the Carrows planned on terrorizing the entire school every single day. When a sworn enemy stumbles upon her secret hideaway within the castle and keeps coming back battered and bleeding, she starts questioning the entire belief system she was raised on. Ever the fiercest protector of the ones she loves, she can only hope she won’t be forced to choose between all that she loves and those on the side of the light.

[yallthemwitches]

Chapter 7: Seventh Year

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. Maybe it was unintentional, but his thumb gives a slow caress to her cheek.   “I know I’m an idiot—I don’t deserve anything more than what you have already given me for the past six years— hell, I definitely don’t deserve the second chance back in fifth—but I want you to know, need you to really understand that I have been so foolishly in love with you since the moment I met you.”

Ah, the final chapter! Read under the cut or on AO3! 🥺

A single letter arrives the third day into summer: a drawing of a headstone in a billowing thunderstorm. There is no caption, but there is an epigraph: 

Here lies James Fleamont Potter: willing killed by Lily Marie Evans

She sends his owl back empty handed. 

The summer passes in a single grey blur: she goes to work at the corner pub, comes home, stares at the ceiling. It’s a monotonous hellscape of a life, but it’s still better than being back at school—facing him.  

She doesn’t escape though, not totally. In her dreams he returns again and again. Many of them are just memories, though warped and made bizarre by the saturation of the light or blurry fuzz of the images. Others he shifts through the many versions of himself throughout the years as though searching for a frequency—his height, hair length, slope of his neck changing in milliseconds as he walks alongside her on some unknown path in the forest. She knows when the dream is about to end when the antlers begin to grow—slow and cumbersome from the top of his head. 

“I’m still waiting.”

When not busy with work, her days are spent mostly convincing herself it was all just a fault in judgement. She didn’t ever actually fancy him, not truly. He had simply tricked her again, lulled her in with his beaming smile and warm, enveloping presence until a third year version of herself took hold. She does her best to wrap everything about him—his laugh, his smile, his smell— all into a little box to be shelved in the back of her brain and for a while, it works.

Never, never does she allow herself to think of the night before holiday, because she knows how easy it would be to relapse if she does— the rejected blankets on the cold stone floor, the soft buzz of weed in her veins, the warmth of his hands as they slide under her skirt, whimpers so soft they could have been the wind…

She keeps it all mostly at bay, until another letter arrives.

Due to your outstanding achievements in academic and social standings, your professors and I are pleased to offer you the prestigious position of Head Girl for the 1977-78 school year. Please find your badge attached and a list of duties required upon arriving in September.

It’s laughable how much she can read between the lines: It’s charity. 

She isn’t a fool—Dumbledore might keep them sequestered within the walls of his fortress, but there was a war going on outside and it was finding its way through the cracks. She had to hand it to him—it was smart on his part. Dumbledore might continue to refuse a position in the ministry, but he was no stranger to politics. The end of the letter made that more than apparent:

Fellow Gryffindor, James Potter, will serve as Head Boy alongside you to share in the duties and expectations that come with the position. I highly recommend reaching out over the holidays to prepare for your upcoming posts. I look forward to working with you both in the next coming months.

Best Regards,

Albus Dumbledore

It produces an actual laugh, deep and hateful and cold. Of course he chose a pureblood, a boy with a quidditch pitch, a boy who fits in, a boy who will become something in this world because he is destined for it—and you, the token muggleborn. There was no better optics.

“What’s that?” Petunia scrunches her nose at the badge weighing heavy in her hand. She tosses it across the table, letting it skitter to a halt for her sister to see. 

“It’s your dream come true—I’ve been promoted to head freak.”

Turns out one of the many duties of being ‘head freak’ was receiving an onslaught of correspondence that she is neither prepared nor willing to answer. 

“ I just heard the news—James Potter??? Head Boy??? (Congrats by the way!)”

“It’s karma babe—Dumbledore is fucking with you, that or the universe is trying to tell you something….”

“EVANS. Everyone has gone nutter. Prongs is MIA—first mentally and now (as of an hour ago) physically. Seeing as you are his keeper now (see: Head Girl) I am not-so-kindly requesting you to FIX IT.”

“Fix it.” If only it were that easy. 

“There’s a deer in the garden,” her dad says from the window. Lily looks up, leaving Sirius’ letter to lay open like a cadaver in her lap. Her dad pulls back the curtain further and a rush of sunlight pours in. 

“Mighty rack on it too. Can’t say I’ve seen that kind of wildlife around here since the factory went in? Have you?”

It takes a second to register his words.

Rack meaning antlers. Growing, twisting, closing in—no, creating a cage. Protecting. Golden eyes piercing back. 

“No, I haven’t.”

She doesn’t respond to anyone—folding up each parchment into one big lump of words. When she attempts to shove them in her pocket, she finds the space already occupied. A note from a lifetime ago. 

“ I’ll always pick you!” 

She stares into the eyes of flobberworm James on the page, half hoping it will animate and explain itself. 

“No, you won’t.”

She goes to work, comes home, stares at the ceiling—but a letter from James never comes.The quaffle was in her court so it shouldn’t feel so much like a rejection, but it does. It twists deep in her stomach. 

Nobody could ever love a freak like you. 

She turns her eyes away from the ceiling and scans her bedroom. Letters litter the floor, some from the avalanche this morning, others from a past James she isn’t quite sure ever existed. 

You’re being stupid. This isn’t about fancying him anymore. Grow up. 

With much effort, she drags herself across the room to the table and pulls out a fresh piece of parchment. 

Dear James Potter, 

She stares at the page and a full minute passes. 

How are you?

Congratulations on getting Head Boy.

I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or snog your face off or strangle MYSELF for wanting the latter so badly it hurts.

With a wave of frustration, she throws her pen down and pushes the parchment off the table to mingle with all the rest on the floor. Scrubbing her face, she reaches for a fresh parchment before freezing, her gaze shooting outside the window.

Devil’s Snare winds up her stomach and into her throat to cut off all air supply. She must be dreaming—going fucking nutter—there was no other bloody explanation for it. 

James Potter is in the garden. 

He doesn’t notice her and she doesn’t wait for him to look up, rushing out her bedroom and down the stairs. When she wrenches open the door the sound startles him, his eyes jumping up wide and bright. His hand instinctively runs through his hair and it hits her how long it’s been since she’s seen the tick. “I got over it,” he had shrugged one of their many days studying last year—back in the short period they called each other friends. “ You said you hated it, so I stopped.”

“Alright Evans?”

His eyes flit over her from head to toe, a small blush forming on his temples. It makes her very aware of the short, muggle dress she had thrown on that morning. A small half-smile threatens on his lips.

“Ah, muggle style wins again.”

The way he says it—low and tight, barely above a whisper—makes every stitch of common sense in her want to unwind.

The backdrop of Cokeworth and the smell of toiled earth does not mesh well with the world she has built around him for seven years. At school, it was easy to be guarded, stone walls giving way to stony dispositions, but here, among the dregs of her mum’s garden?

Her floodgates are open and the water is rising fast. 

“How did you get here?”

She can hear how shaky her voice is, cold and hard in the summer warmth. If he notices, he ignores it—stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning his attention elsewhere.

“Lavender by the gate—it’s good luck, you know.” He nods his head over to the creaking metal fence in front of their house. Her mum had said the same thing back when her condition was just a big word on a piece of paper. How dare he know. 

“We have a garden too but it’s only for potions ingredients—Dad insists on growing his own, the uptight sod,” James continues, averting his gaze. If she didn’t already know this dance of his, she would find it laughable. Here we go: his specialty. Deflect, joke, talk in circles. How predictable, how infuriatingly—”

“So, I’m sure you saw I was made Head Boy.”

—straight forward?

“I did,” she stutters, taken aback, “but I don’t see how that warrants a house call.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been answering my letters.”

It hits hard and fast, stinging on impact. She had expected a lot of things from him when they would finally have to meet again, but pain and resentment on his part was not one of them. 

“I’d hardly call some silly drawing a letter.”

“You used to.” His eyes narrow, steely and cold.

“Well, this time there was nothing to say, so drop it.”

She wants to sound sure of herself, but it comes out warped and cracked, like the records they used to listen to on the dorm room floor—like the one that played when…when…

No No No No. Don’t go there, never there…

“I think you should leave.”

It’s not the tears blurring her vision that make the words stick in her throat, but the look on his face as she says them. Pale and helpless and deliberately not James. The James she knows is a ball of light, an endless force of energy ringing laughter through the halls—not, some beaten boy standing in the polluted haze of the moon.

He scrubs his face, knocking his glasses askew. 

“Please. I just need—”

“No.”

“ Merlin, I’m being serious I—”

“I said no. Goodbye Potter.” She twists on her feet and her heels dig into the soil, breath coming painful and shallow from her windpipe.

“I am going to decline the Head Position—I wanted you to hear it from me.”

It pierces sharp and hot into her heart. She spins back towards him to find him still frozen in place. Suddenly, the urge to run, wrap her arms around him and tell him to stay passes over her like a chill.

“Why.”

“Because I don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, sure. A pureblood not deserving it .” 

She can see the anger rise in his shoulders, his brow knitting into a tight line. Good, show me something Potter.

“What are you talking about? You of all people should know that—”

He stops abruptly, letting out an exasperated sigh. His steeled reserve drops. 

“Look—Dumbledore is nutter for giving me this badge and we both know it. I’ve been a bloody nightmare to them for years—they could have picked anyone else, honestly anyone , and they would have made more sense.”

She snorts. “Never took you to be the self deprecating type.”

It awards her a joyless laugh. 

“Sure you have—I’m the biggest wanker of them all. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

Anger twists in her veins, propelling her back towards him as though ready to strike. She waits for him to recoil, perhaps search for his wand, but he just watches her return, the ends of his untidy hair catching glints of moonlight and quickening her heart.

It’s not until she’s standing back in front of him that she notices something warm and damp pattering onto the skin of her folded arms. His face immediately softens and she can tell he wants to rush forward and wipe the tears from her cheeks, but he won’t and she won’t let him. 

“ Lils,” he pleads, eyes dragging across her tear stained face, “I’m doing this for you.”  

“Do not call me that,” she hisses, wiping her cheek impatiently, “You have no right. And don’t give me that, you have no idea what I want. I don’t care if you are bloody Head Boy or dead at the bottom of the lake at this point I—”

He lets out a strangled cry, turning away from her to clench at his hair. When he turns back, he wipes his eyes, a glassy sheen now coating his irises. 

“You’re right, Evans,” he says, making no effort to smile. “I don’t know—so enlighten me. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” 

A jolt of electricity runs up her spine, threatening her nervous system to short circuit. How many times over the years had he said those words and when did he actually start meaning them?

All of them—every single bloody time.

It unlatches the box that kept the memories of him at bay and suddenly the images seep through like ink on a canvas. James past and present float through her vision like beautiful, wonderful, infuriating ghosts. 

“Be Head Boy or don’t, I don’t care,” her voice breaks, a choking noise bubbling up. “—but stop playing all these games with me because…because I won’t be able to survive it—really Potter. I mean it. I know you are an arrogant prick and probably get your rocks off watching me wallow and make a fool of myself after you like I’m still bloody thirteen, but I’m not some plaything you can just toss around and take the piss whenever you—”

He closes the distance between them so fast, she hardly registers it, both hands cupping her face and demanding her attention. 

“So it wasn’t the drugs. You meant to kiss me.” 

The heat rises so fast it scorches her cheeks. 

“I wish I had never done it.”

“But at the time—you wanted to.”

She wiggles under his hands but he doesn’t let her go, eyes wild and determined. 

Vulnerable. She’s far too vulnerable. 

“What does it matter?” She gasps, tears falling between his fingers, “Like I said, it's all one big game for you. The lads probably got into your head that it was a good idea to��what did they call it?—’pop your muggleborn cherry’ so you decided to entertain my pathetic little relapse and snog me just to say that—”

“Is that really what you think of me?” He cuts her off, nostrils flaring, “Lily, I don’t know what reality you are in but you’ve got this all wrong. I don’t know how I could have made myself any more clear…”

The memories boil over again—every moment he has ever shown her kindness or, god forbid, attraction being shrouded by some other, sinister inner voice. 

“Well, you aren’t being clear!” She screams, finally wrenching his hands off her face. “One day you are giving me foot touches under the table, writing me little letters… and the next you recoil from me in your bloody bed !”

There’s a beat of silence, then James lets out a laugh so unhinged and feral she takes a step back.

“Fucking Hell, you are delusional.”

An insult sits at the top of her tongue but he keeps laughing, all of the tension in his shoulders melting away. He looks completely mad, keeled over with his hair tousled and glasses barely hanging on to his ears. 

“Evans,” he pants, trying to catch his breath, “Me recoiling from you? That was out of self preservation.” 

His words sink to the bottom of her stomach, setting off the flutter of a thousand little snitches. 

“If you had even gotten close—pressed up against me even slightly— I would have made a fool of myself, you’d have felt me make a fool of myself. Merlin, I’m embarrassed just saying it.”

Oh. Oh.  A flush streaks across her face and neck, trying her best to not linger on what it implies—

“Do you get it?” He gasps, finally righting himself and raking a hand through his hair, “Please don’t make me elaborate on the fickle anatomy of a teenage boy, Evans. I’m standing on your bloody doorstep…”

It’s not possible. He’s taking the piss…

Like aligning tiny intricate puzzle pieces, one clicks together with another. 

“But Elodie…Slughorn's party—” she stammers, her whole inside churning, “I know she asked you—Christ, she asked me if she could…”

He looks as though he has been slapped, eyes wide and body leaning back. When he recovers, he speaks slowly.

“Lily…I went to Slughorn’s party looking for you.”

“Rubbish.”

“Fucking honest,” he stammers, eyes getting more bright by the syllable.

“Elodie did ask me, but I turned her down. I went because you had been so weird about wanting me to go in the library—” He cuts himself off, closing his eyes and taking a deep, shoulder clenching breath. 

“—And yes, maybe I was hopeful that you had been trying to ask me…you know, just in a real bloody confusing kind of way.”

Another click of a piece, but instead of making it easier to decipher, it makes everything turn belly up. Years worth of interactions with him racing past her eyes, now at an angle she hadn’t considered before.

But you’re a muggleborn. A freak. No one could love you. Just a plaything to take the piss out of. The sirens begin in her head and they are deafening, making it hard to even think.

“James,” she murmurs, eyes stinging again, “It's too much. I think you should leave.”

Something flashes across his face and his eyes darken, jaw tightening in indignance. 

“Sorry, but no. Not until you get it.”

He walks towards her, slow and somewhat unsure of himself. It’s a jarring visual—James being hesitant. Ever since she has met him, he has thrown himself into everything with such gusto and trust. Now, he steps deliberately, like dodging a thousand trip wires waiting to unlock a trap door. 

She should run—rush back inside the house and slam the door, leaving the beautiful curve of his jaw, and the square of his shoulders and the moonlight in his hair out in the street. But by the time she is ready to dart, his hand reaches back up to her cheek, rooting her to the spot. 

“I want to propose something to you but I need you to give me the floor again.” His words echo from fifth year, ringing as steady and warm as they did back in the forest. 

“I want you to stop over thinking things—get out of that brilliant, freaky, fucking fantastic brain of yours and listen to me— and really listen because I don’t think I will be able to say it again—so will you humor me? Please?”

Another stab from the past. Just like in his dorm, he’s not asking, he’s begging. She doesn’t know what to say, feeling the heat of his hand and sharp stare of his eyes lulling her away like in a trance. Eventually, she feels herself nod. 

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. Maybe it was unintentional, but his thumb gives a slow caress to her cheek. 

“I know I’m an idiot—I don’t deserve anything more than what you have already given me for the past six years— hell, I definitely don’t deserve the second chance back in fifth—but I want you to know, need you to really understand that I have been so foolishly in love with you since the moment I met you.”

There is no air. No sound. They are hovering untethered in a void. 

“I didn’t really understand what the feeling was until probably fifth year—and even then I did an utter shite job showing you—but, again, I need you to know that there isn’t a day that passes where you aren’t on my mind, where just the thought of your hair or the color of your eyes or the way you hold a bloody quill doesn’t make me want to implode with a happiness that I certainly, certainly have no right to feel.”

It’s a sadness she has never seen on him before. One that cuts to the bone.

“If you still hate me and want nothing to do with me after this, I swear I will never bother you again, but I just really needed you to know—and it’s not a joke, not me trying to take the piss or play games with you like you constantly seem to think. I am obsessed with you and honestly at this point I wish you would just be cruel about it and go on and tell me to fuck off—”

She lurches forward on her toes, slotting his mouth against hers before he can continue to spiral any further. His lips move soft and warm just as she remembers and a small gasp of Lils drifts into the air. Unlike the time in the dorm, his hands move slow like drifting through water, down her neck and back, savoring each centimeter they drop until they wind around her waist to pull her in deeper. Only after the fact, maybe days or months later will she realize that all the noise and voices that usually plagued her brain have vanished. The silence is so delectable.

When they finally come up for air, it makes her laugh—a real, raw one that tilts her head back and cuts through the night. Eventually she realizes he had started to laugh too, pressing his forehead against hers and kissing the lingering vibration away.

“Merlin, your laugh,” he groans into the crook of her neck, pressing an impossibly large smile into her skin. “I’m addicted to it—how did it take you this long to understand I’m hopeless for you. Seriously, just take me out of my misery…”

It makes her laugh again, but this time he catches it, his lips sweeter than anything she could ever imagine. 

“Don’t worry, I will.”

* * * * *

Of all her seven years of Hogwarts, she has never noticed how intimidating the double doors to the Great Hall are. Have they always been this big? This…terrifying?

“Evans— you’re doing it again. Let me in.” 

She feels the press of warm and familiar lips into her cheek, lingering by her ear just to make her skin prickle like he knows it will. Arse.

“It’s going to be fine—dare I say, even brilliant.”

She snorts and he rewards her with another kiss to the neck—something she’s grown very fond of in their final stolen weeks of summer. 

“Says the boy who is so chuffed about showing off he could die.”

James flashes her a smile, beaming from ear to ear. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he cradles her to his chest, leaning his chin in the crook of her neck. 

“Give jabs all you want, Evans. I am chuffed—but hopefully I don’t die anytime soon because I have big plans for us…namely some that involve that comfy looking couch back in the Heads’ office…”

Heat rises to her cheeks and his smile grows wider than humanly possible.

“ Stop,” she groans, reaching up to tug at his hair, “We are seconds away from shepherding loads of first years to their common rooms…becoming role models… .You can’t be bringing up things like…like…”

“Hm, like what?” He wiggles his fingers against her stomach, making her squirm against him. 

“Nevermind—you’re impossible,” she sighs, resigning herself. He continues to feather kisses up her neck, finding her pressure point and nuzzling his nose. She can’t even pretend she doesn’t like it.

“James?”

“Hm?”

“Tell me again how this year is going to go.”

He hums against her skin, then pulls up—eyes wide and shining and full of an adoration no one has ever shown her in her life.

“Well–” he tsks, holding her with both arms around the stomach and swaying her playfully. 

“Upon walking through these doors I will swoop you into a romantic kiss and the whole school will cheer.”

“Alright, territorial. ”

“Then,” He continues ignoring her, “We will become the best Head Boy and Girl this school has ever seen: catch wannabe death eater pricks...dole out detentions...make use of our ability to stay out after curfew to snog….”

“Funny, that last one wasn’t on the duties sheet.”

He gives a small growl and she reaches up to give his chin a shake, kissing the bicep that wraps around her. 

“Oh, it was definitely on there—and anyways, don’t hate me for trying to make up for lost time.”

She spins around, burrowing her hands into his hair and his response to it is blinding—her bright star that will never go out. 

“Let's get through the welcome feast first,” she says, peppering his cheek with kisses. His arms tighten around her, a hum of satisfaction escaping his lips. 

“Whatever you want, Evans.”

When they turn to enter, James’ face is still beaming and she wonders if he has broken the record for happiness. He reaches out and takes her hand, and she knows her eyes must be bright and brimming with a word that has hung on her lips all summer-love.

As the door opens she waits for an outpouring of thoughts, the chanting of mudblood…the gasp of her kind ever being associated with his…the sound of her sister’s voice or Severus’ or even just her own telling her that she will never never be good enough. 

But she is enough. He thinks she’s enough. And with a squeeze of his hand, it all goes silent.

[diamandodusto]

CHAPTER 1 : SEVENTH YEAR (SEBASTIAN SALLOW X FEMALE OC)

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Click on this sentence to see how Eloy Looks (warning nude body and clothed body ahead, by me)

Synopsis : Eloy, Sebastian and Ominis are students in Hogwarts and entering their seventh year together and none of them actually knows what they got ahead…  

1. 

Seventh Year

The morning that came, she felt dizzy. Dizzy in reason of what’s happened, a week before getting back to Hogwarts. She had almost nothing to buy, considering how thoughtful her classmates had been the past two years. And, when the time has come, she was already at the train station waiting for the Hogwarts Express. Way more casual than getting attacked by Dragons, she thought. 

Tapping her fingers nervously against her luggage, Eloy smiled awkwardly at her brother, the third eldest of her siblings, to reassure him. But he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t catch her lie. 

“Sallow and Gaunt ? Again? I thought we were over this, Sissy,” he called. 

“Are you ? You finished Hogwarts three years ago, I don’t get why you’re so interested in my studies. Get up your own business, I wouldn’t mind tranquillity a bit further.” 

Although that sounded mean, Eloy thought each word she had said. The millions of students in Hogwarts would soon enough speak rapidly to her, than her brother could’ve for the next twelve months. If not more. After all, she didn’t know if she was going to pass an eighth year just to catch on to the little she had missed. 

The Train sounded loud sufficiently for her to jump at its noise, the heated steam flying into the station as Eloy was rapidly waving goodbye to her family again. She was used to it by now. And, she openly admitted how done was she, with them. When she sat, she had let her luggage being taken by the service of the train, and all she did was to think about the trial again. 

Why did Ominis said the exact words she employed herself ? Why did he switch sides again? Wasn’t so resentful towards Sebastian ? Was she going to see him again ? 

Sebastian, 

Oh, how exhausted he looked when she glanced at him. How drained were his eyes. His once so expressive orbs that enlightened empathy in her heart. For Anne, even his uncle, and of course him. Shivers went down her spine at the memory of her friends and the moments they had when they were fifth year students. 

Her thoughts would eventually lead her to lose track of time, the train stopped, and her body almost smashed against the table. Rapidly brushing her hair presentably, Eloy stood up as she took her stuff before jumping off the transport. The smell of Honeydukes’s gummies, chocolates, and marshmallow comforted her sore heart. 

Familiar faces stared at her. Some were judgmental, others reassuring, comforting, and then, there was Ominis who had recognized her footsteps. The sound of her favourite boots she was always wearing. Leathered and laced. 

“Denford ? I am sure it’s you,”

“It is… Ominis,” she almost murmured as the voice went extinct. 

The man walked further. Hair were parting here and there, falling on his delicate traits. His cheekbones sharpened, and even the slight resemblance of the first sign of a beard, made her smile. Eloy always had thought Gaunt’s features were elegant. Masculine, but with a softness that made him so singular. 

Like a terrified animal, the dark-haired walked at the direction of Ominis. The latter stayed still, waiting for her presence, as Eloy then headed her hand towards his sleeve to grab it in comfort.

It’s been so long. 

“You changed so much,” she sweetly said. 

“I can’t say you did,” he joked. 

A light laugh escaped her plumped lips, as her fingers crossed his to head them to her hair, which Ominis caressed to comprehend its length from now-on. A gentle smirk passed on his thin corners. “You gotta tie them up now, don’t you?” 

“They are. They just…” 

“Yeah, I can tell you had let them grow. I am sure that suits you very well.” 

His tone had changed from the dark noise of vengeance to the once soft and tender sound of his voice. Although he admitted he was embarrassed. After all, it wasn’t like he had treated her well at Sebastian’s trial. Even if she was just as much on the edge as he’s been. Ominis regretted. Deeply. 

The Slytherin didn’t even know how to act any more. 

“I am sorry for what happened at the tr-...” 

“Hush, we no further should be about this. It’s over, and it was the best sorting we could’ve had. I just want to take this chance to make things right again, don’t you?” 

She smiled. 

“Yes, Ominis, I do.” 

He stepped ahead, following the sounds of their classmates heading towards the different carriages that were driving right to Hogwarts. “Then, we shall go, don’t we ?”

Answering positively, Eloy followed her friend to their seats. The Ravenclaw then proceeded to tell him about everything that has happened to her. As they arrived, she quickly came to leave the carriage to help Ominis out without having him falling. 

Stepping right to the double doors of Hogwarts, right to the Great Hall, they both froze at the sound of vocal cords they once had forgotten. 

“Greetings,” welcomed them. 

Without her consent, Eloy figure pivoted right to the source of the noise.

He was there. 

Tall, 

Freckled, 

Standing straight, 

But most importantly, 

Smiling. 

Without a warning, Eloy ran to Sebastian and crossed her arms around his neck, encircling his green tuxedo with no flinch. Caught by surprise, Sallow lowered his head to the one that gave him the first warmed contact he ever had since he got arrested. A warmth that would have driven him to tears if he wasn’t publicly shown to all. 

Why ? 

Because of the heels of Eloy, that went heard across the room in resonance. Ominis stopped, comprehending the now-sobbing Ravenclaw meant who had entered into the gigantic room of Hogwarts. 

“Sallow,” 

“Gaunt.”

Both men were staring at each other, intensely. As if a silent fight was running, and they were trying to win over each other’s will. One that had no eyesight, but clairvoyance while the other had eyes, but has been blinded. Moreover, by Dark Magic. 

But he was at a loss for words. 

Was he truly where he should’ve been? Sebastian felt like floating, the presence of Eloy’s arms around his body was enough for him to forget what happened in court. Was it a week or two ago? He forgot. 

In an automatism, he wrapped his own to her waist that, he noticed, remained just as thin as he’d known, though her hips got considerably wider through time. 

“You’re back…” 

The soft tone she employed, sent shivers down his spine. That’s how he proceeded to realize how broken she was, how sad she had been. And, in all honesty, he’s been as well. Behind magical metal bars to keep him straight shut. Torture to make him speak about how he discovered this much about dark magic. 

So much, it would've eventually left scars within his body. His very soul. 

“I am sorr-...”

“Shh, please don’t,” she whispered, her grip getting tighter, as if she desired burying her head in his torso. “Let’s forget about this. All of this. It’s time to move on, we shall.” 

Ominis’s and Sebastian’s lips curved upwards. The blind man walked in their direction, quickly finding his way to his two friends. 

“We should sit at our tables. If Weasley or anyone else sees us by now, we’ll get detention. I don’t want my house to lose points while it hasn’t even been given yet.” 

Both nodded as they parted. Sebastian felt cold again, just as Eloy did, when the pair went to their seats. Although genuinely happy, they felt freezing at the separation of their figures again. And deep inside, Eloy feared she’s lost him again. 

That, this breakfast at Hogwarts, was just a dream.  That she’d wake up and be just as lonely in her bed, that she'd bear the mockeries of her brothers. She nervously shook her head. No, she wouldn’t. She just couldn’t. 

“Welcome back to Hogwarts. For some, your seventh year is at its beginning. To others, you are all-new. To those who started a long time ago, you’ll continue to learn magic with us for another year,” started the Transfiguration teacher. “The last two years have been rough on Hogwarts. We fought recklessly to survive and provide us the brightest of futures. Not without help given between one another…” 

But Eloy wasn’t listening any further. Instead, she swallowed apples and others fruits that were laying, and she pursued, avoiding the glances of her Ravenclaw classmates. 

It was brutal, but deserved. After all, they had come to know she used Dark Magic. Forbidden Curses… And Sebastian noticed again. He noticed how lonely she looked. Because of him. Because of what he’s done. That he dragged her into his dark shenanigans. 

All he wanted was to bring her between him and Ominis. So she wouldn’t be alone any more. But he couldn’t. 

Foremost, because of how the others looked at him as well. Judgemental, horrified. As if they feared, he’d cast “Adavra Kedavra” in the mere seconds that's passed. 

But he wouldn’t. 

“From now, your planning will be given to each with a howl. At this moment, you can circulate freely throughout the school. New students shall come see me and the director, to speak about their wands and furnitures they didn’t complete to get yet.”

And it went on until the entirety of the room just got on its legs to get back. A lot hugged, while some avoided each other. She noticed some couples, but what she didn’t feel were the hands of Ominis on her shoulders, followed by Sebastian. 

“I cannot see you, but I can feel how anxious you are ‘loy. We’re here, remember ?” 

“I…- I know you are, it’s just that-…” 

“We know,” admitted Sebastian. “You don’t need to explain, we know. It doesn’t change, we’ll remain by your side.” 

The dark-haired smiled. “Promise?” 

The Slytherins upped their pinkies as they crossed it between them three. Nonetheless, they got cut off by a throat-clearing sound right behind their positions. “Gaunt, Sallow and Denford ? Right to my class. I need to talk to you three about something for the upcoming year.” 

[beyondhallowsrp]

⚡︎ LEVITICUS MALFOY; biography

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Romeo and Juliet

Relationship: Theodore Nott/Original Character

Summary:

After detention with Professor Carrow, Theo finds Juliet hidden in an abandoned classroom.

TW: Mention of family member death mentioned

[braveclementine]

Chapter 17

Warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, sir kink

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

I blinked my eyes open, seeing both Harry and Hermione leaning over me. "You alright?" Hermione asked fretfully. 

"Ow, yeah." I mumbled, slowly pushing myself into a sitting position. "Where are we?" 

"Safe place. C'mon, let's get into the tent." Harry said, helping me up. I gently placed a hand on my stomach, feeling little kicks. They were unhappy with me, but at least I knew they were both alive and well. 

"So," Ron started immediately, showing that I had missed a bit of their conversation, "that Peverell bloke who's buried in Godric's Hollow, you don't know anything about him, then?" 

"No, I looked him up after I saw the mark on his grave; if he'd been anyone famous or done anything important, I'm sure he'd be in one of our books. The only place I've managed to find the name 'Peverell' is Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. I borrowed it from Kreacher. It lists the pure-blood families that are now extinct in the male line. Apparently the Peverells were one of the earliest families to vanish." 

"Extinct in the male line?" Ron asked. 

"It means the name's died out. . . centuries ago, in the case of the Peverells. They could still have descendants, though, they'd just be called something different." 

"Marvolo Gaunt!" Harry suddenly shouted. 

"What?" I asked. 

"Sorry?" Ron and Hermione asked together. 

"Marvolo Gaunt! You-Know-Who's grandfather! In the pensieve! With Dumbledore! Marvolo Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverells!" 

I had forgotten about that and was impressed that Harry had. 

"The ring, the ring that became the Horcrux, Marvolo Gaunt said it had the Peverell coat of arms on it! I saw him waving it in the bloke from the Ministry's face, he nearly shoved it up his nose!" 

"the Peverell coat of arms? Could you see what it looked like?" Hermione asked sharply. 

"Not really. There was something fancy on there, as far as I could see; maybe a few scratches. I only ever saw it really close up after it had been cracked open." 

"Blimey. . . you reckon it was this sign again? the sign of the Hallows?" Ron asked. 

"Why not? Marvolo Gaunt was an ignorant old git who lived like a pig, all he cared about was his ancestry. If that ring had been passed down through generations, he might not have know what it really was. There were no books in that house, and trust me, he wasn't the type to read fairy tales to his kids. He'd have loved to think the scratches on the stone were a coat of arms, because as far as he was concerned, having pure blood made you practically royal." 

"Yes. . . and that's all very interesting, but Harry, if you're thinking what I think you're think-" 

"Well, why not? Why not? It was a stone wasn't it? What if it was the Resurrection stone?" Harry asked. 

"Blimey-  but would it still work if Dumbledore broke-" Ron gasped. 

"Work? Work?" Hermiones' voice was going up in octaves, making little pricks against my brain and I closed my eyes, laying on the cot. "Ron, it never worked! There's no such thing as a Resurrection Stone! Harry, you're trying to fit everything into the Hallows story-" 

"Fit everything in? Hermione, it fits of its own accord! I know the sign of the Deathly Hallows was on that stone! Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverell's!" 

"A minute ago you told us you never saw the mark on the stone properly!" 

"Where d'you reckon the ring is now? What did Dumbledore do with it after he broke it open?" Ron asked frantically. 

Harry didn't answer however. He was looking off into the distance, a faint look of concentration on his face. His black hair had fallen into his green eyes, boring holes into the tent wall. 

"Harry?" Hermione asked after a few seconds. 

Suddenly, Harry let out a dramatic gasp. "Dumbledore had my Cloak the night my parents died!" 

I felt that twinge of sadness, whenever he called our parents 'his' or 'my'. I knew it was not his fault, I knew it was what he believed. And I knew that was my fault, because I had made sure it was that way. 

His voice was shaking as he continued, "My mum told Sirius that Dumbledore borrowed the cloak! This is why! He wanted to examine it, because he thought it was the third Hallow! Ignotus Peverell is buried in Godric's Hollow. . .He's my ancestor! I'm descended from the third brother! It all makes sense!"

"Harry." Hermione tried again. 

"Read it," Harry pushed a piece of parchment in Hermiones' hand. "Read it! Dumbledore had the Cloak, Hermione! Why else would he want it? He didn't need a Cloak, he could perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful that he made himself completely invisible without one!" 

"That's true." I murmured, frowning a little. I hadn't even thought of that. 

I heard something clink, rolling on the ground and then Harry shouted so loud I winced, "IT'S IN HERE! He left me the ring- it's in the snitch!" 

"You- you reckon?" Ron asked. 

Harry looked between me, Ron, and Hermione. Ron looked taken aback and Hermione was obviously unbelieving. I hoped I mostly just looked like I was in pain, fingers pressed against my head like that would get rid of the headache. 

"That's what he's after." Harry whispered. "You-Know-Who's after the Elder Wand." 

I sat up, motioning to Hermione that I wanted the letter. Hermione handed it over without a word. 

I unfolded the letter, taking in a deep breath as I saw Lily Potters' handwriting. 

Dear Padfoot,      Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself, I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only  rises about two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for  Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James though it was so funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going.      Lizzy just absolutely loves the Muggle dolls. I don't think  she's stopped playing with them ever since she got them. She's so serious about making sure they're wearing appropriate attire before bed and she doesn't dress herself until they're dressed in day clothes. It's adorable. I would enclose a picture, but you know she's camera shy.       We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us, and who dotes on  Harry and Lizzy. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first, and they're not old enough to know it's their birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell- also,  Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I though he  seemed down, but that was probably the news about the  McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard.      Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not  sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore

The letter cut off, but I wasn't focused on that, especially since I knew how it finished. I had found the scrap of letter and half a picture in Severus' top drawer months ago. Despite me being camera shy, it was clear a picture had been snuck with me holding my mother's hand, a doll in my other hand. I knew it had originally connected to a photo of Harry riding along on a broom, our father diving after him, just a pair of legs. 

The part I was focused on were the small tidbits about me. Muggle dolls. I had gotten muggle dolls and I liked to dress them, even at a year old. I knew which clothes should've gone on them and I dressed them like they were my children. 

It took all of my willpower not to cry, especially knowing Hermione  was looking at me, seeing as Harry was still lost in thought. 

"I don't suppose you know what the last bit is supposed to say?" Hermione asked quietly. 

"Oh." I looked up and said after a moment. "'because it seems incredible that Dumbledore could ever have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think her mind's going, personally! Lots of love, Lily.'" 

"You know," Hermione said quieter, "There's something that doesn't quite make sense." 

"What?" I asked. 

"Harry said he did have a sister, but that Barty Crouch Jr. said she died in April. But if she's celebrating her birthday in July. . . how could she have died in April?" Her eyes were holding mine and I just knew that she knew. 

"Maybe she's still out there. Maybe she doesn't want people to know who she is." I answered. "Maybe she wants to reveal herself at the right time." I went silent and then said, "Or maybe she doesn't know who she is." 

"This is it." Harry suddenly said, not having paid attention to a word we had said. Ron looked away from us slowly. Hermione and I stared at each other for a moment longer and I shook my head an inch. "This explains everything. The Deathly Hallows are real, and I've got one- maybe two- and You-Know-Who's chasing the third, but he doesn't realize. . . he just thinks it's a powerful wand-" 

"Harry, I'm sorry, but I think you've got this wrong, all wrong." 

"But don't you see? It all fits-" 

"No, it doesn't. It doesn't, Harry, you're just getting carried away. Please, please just answer me this: If the Deathly Hallows really existed, and Dumbledore knew about them, knew that the person who possessed all three of them would be master of Death- Harry, why wouldn't he have told you? Why?" 

"But you said it, Hermione! You've got to find out about them for yourself! It's a Quest!" 

Hermione was going to hate herself for that one later probably. "But I only said that to try and persuade you to come to the Lovegoods'! I didn't really believe it!" 

"Dumbledore usually let me find out stuff for myself. He let me try my strength, take risks. This feels like the kind of thing he'd do." 

"Harry, this isn't a game, this isn't practice! This is the real thing, and Dumbledore left you very clear instructions: Find and destroy the Horcruxes! That symbol doesn't mean anything, forget the Deathly Hallows, we can't afford to get sidetracked- You don't believe in this, do you?" 

I glanced up, finally handing the letter over to Harry. 

"I dunno. . . I mean. . . bits of it sort of fit together," Ron said very awkwardly, looking like he wanted to placate both of them. "But when you look at the whole thing. . . I think we're supposed to get rid of Horcruxes, Harry. That's what Dumbledore told us to do. Maybe. . . maybe we should forget about this Hallows business." 

"Thank you Ron, I'll take first watch." Hermione said, walking off. 

Harry looked at me. "What about you?" 

"I don't know Harry." I said softly, standing. "I know that's a rare answer from me but, I just don't know. I'd listen to Ron." I pulled him into a hug, letting out a sigh. "I'll see you later, I need to get back." 

"Back to Snape?" Harry asked, a dangerous note in his voice. 

"Back to my son." I said, my voice equally dangerous now. I squeezed his arm and stepped out of the tent without another word. I smiled at Hermione but made it clear I wasn't staying for a word, moving far away into the forest before closing my eyes and apparating. 

I turned into my normal black cat form, padding through Hogsmeade before making my way up to the castle once more. Severus was laying on the bed with Remus, fast asleep until the door opened, his wand pointed at me until he saw who it was. 

"You know you shouldn't relax so easily." I teased, taking my cloak off, laying it on the back of the chair, locking the door behind me. I sauntered over to the bed, climbing up awkwardly onto the piece of furniture, straddling Severus' lap. "What if I was a Death Eater." 

"What if I was a Death Eater?" Severus asked lowly, nose skimming my neck. 

"You are a Death Eater." I giggled, before pressing my lips to his. "I'm all yours sir. How do you want me to serve?" I was desperate to lose myself in him after the rough afternoon and the near miss with Hermione discovering I was his sister. Well, knowing, I suppose. 

"Hmm, tempting." Severus rolled over, pinning me underneath him. "However, our son is in bed with us so I think we need to behave." 

I kissed him again and then wiggled upwards. "That's not fun at all." 

"You're a terrible influence." Severus groaned, before rolling out of bed to pick up Remus and lay him down in his crib, tapping it with his wand so that Remus could not hear certain noises that would be going on in the room. Severus crawled back up on the bed, hovering over me, before kissing down my neck. "Now then, I believe you said you were going to serve me?" 

"Yes Sir." I replied coyly, letting my hands wander south on him, until they were undoing the buttons on his pants. He rolled off of me, landing on his back as I helped him lose his trousers and boxers. "You look delicious sir." 

"You're such a tease." Severus moaned through gritted teeth as I licked up the underside of his shaft. His hand grabbed me by the hair, pulling me towards him. I went with it till I was straddling him, his cock rubbing against my folds. 

Our breathing grew heavy as I sank down on him, riding him slowly, his hands moving to my hips, helping me ride him. 

"Merlin, you feel amazing." Severus moaned out, fingers digging softly into my hips. 

"My name is Elizabeth." I teased lightly, rolling so that we were both on our sides as we made love now. I captured his lips with mine, nipping at his bottom lip. 

"My apologies." Severus teased and then gritted his teeth as he moaned lowly again. "Cum, Elizabeth." 

It was instantaneous as I released, feeling him release inside of me at the same time. I sighed in content, relaxing into his arms. 

We laid there for a moment before Severus slowly started to kiss my skin. Then he lightly murmured, "I'll go run the bath." 

I hummed as he got up off the bed, watching him disappear butt naked into the bathroom, before he came back out to get me. I padded out to the bathroom, my legs shaking only a little bit and he helped me into the bath. 

We took turns washing each other, soaking in the hot water until it cooled, before heading back out to bed. Severus climbed into bed, helping me up onto the raised furniture, before pulling me against him, cuddling me as the both of us drifted off to sleep. 

⬅️➡️

[sinsiriuslyemo]

CH 2:

The only downside of James and Lily being an official couple these days were the ridiculous doey-eyed expressions they exchanged what seemed like every ten seconds. Apparently their first date had gone well enough that they had decided to continue seeing each other, and had been now for a week. And while Sirius was truly happy for James, and even for Lily, he wished they would just agree on whichever one of them was "most brilliant" and stop forgetting that they were in the middle of the Gryffindor common room.

"May I remind you, that you — my brilliant Lily — are the —"

Sirius tuned him out, rolling his eyes as his head fell back against the sofa. A whack on his shoe got his attention. He lifted his head and met eyes with Remus, who mouthed, "stop it," though by the barely visible smirk on his face, he was very much aware of what was annoying Sirius.

"We've been having the conversation since our second date," Lily said, still smiling at James. "I propose we simply agree that we're both brilliant and maybe that's why we get on so well."

"I love that idea," Sirius chimed, shifting his gaze to Lily, who chuckled in response as she looked back at him.

Oh good, they haven't forgotten we're here, Sirius thought. Meeting eyes with Moony again, he winked and was rewarded with that adorable pink hue that painted his cheeks.

The more he thought about the night they got off in the Shrieking Shack, the more he thought about doing it again. Not only because it was fun and felt amazing, but also because if he was wanting to keep experimenting, he wanted it to be with Remus. With everything that was happening outside the Hogwarts walls, the idea of trying to find other wizards to fool around with seemed nearly pointless. Possibly dangerous as well. Plus he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wished he'd gotten to taste Moony's cock.

"Oi! You listening?" James snapped his finger next to his face.

Sirius blinked. "Sorry, what?"

“Hogsmeade this weekend,” Marlene said. “Lunch at Broomsticks, all of us.”

“Right, sure.”

“And then afterwards, perhaps we can go to that cave we spotted,” Dorca suggested, tucking one leg under the other.

“What cave?” Sirius asked.

“There’s a cave just outside the village, it’s quite nice. Quiet,” Marlene answered. “Dorca and I went last weekend, built a fire, read poetry. It was lovely.”

“That does sound lovely,” Remus replied as he leaned back on his hands and extended his legs, crossing his ankles. "I might want to stop by Dominic Maestro’s first.”

“I thought you had drumsticks,” Peter said.

“I do, just wanted to have a look at his sheet music “ Remus replied.

“Do drums even have sheet music?” James teased.

“Well, of course, you don’t think drummers just make it up as they go along, do you?” Lily chimed.

"Just sounds like a load of racket to me,” Marlene said with a smile.

“That’s because you don’t have any rhythm,” Sirius replied, dodging a pillow when she tossed it at him playfully.

James laughed as the girls stood, tilting his head up so that Lily could give him a kiss. “Night, love.”

“See you tomorrow,” she replied.

James watched her, Dorca and Marlene as they made their way to the girls’ dorms, sighing blissfully before he turned back to his friends. “I’m telling you, lads, I’m going to —”

“Marry that witch,” Sirius, Remus and Peter chorused.

James rolled his eyes, his smile widening as the other three laughed. “Right, so I’ve said it a few times.”

“A few times?” Peter replied.

“We’re happy for you, Prongs,” Remus chimed, gently swatting Peter’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” James grinned, turning to Sirius. “Quidditch tryouts tomorrow. I’ve been told we should be expecting four of the second years.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “That many?!”

Nodding, James answered, “Yeah, and we’ve only got one open spot.”

“Good luck with that,” Remus mumbled, looking over at Peter. “While they’re at tryouts, we can get a start on that Potions essay in the library.”

“Why do we always have to do homework in the library?” Peter groaned.

“Because, Peter, there are no distractions in the library.”

James stood and stretched. “Right then, I’m going up to bed, are you lot coming?"

Sirius fought the urge to make a sexually suggestive joke as he stood and followed the three to the boy’s dorms.

On the way up, James and Peter began talking about the strange happenings in the wizarding world and what it could possibly mean. Peter seemed to think that a certain someone was gearing up for a hostile takeover of the Ministry, but then again that was just one of the many rumors floating around. The worst of the whispers involved the Dark Lord attempting to recruit Death Eaters from inside Hogwarts, though how that could be possible, Sirius couldn’t understand.

As they settled into their respective beds, Sirius took up a scrap piece of parchment from his drawer and wrote a note to Moony. He just hoped it would be received well. They hadn't exactly talked about whether that night in the Shack had been a one time occurence, and as he penned his note, he hoped for the best but assumed the worst.

I can't stop thinking about how good your cock felt in my hand, and it's left me wondering about how it tastes.

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