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thelastarchangelaskblog · 5 months ago

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Sixth Year Bonus Scene 12

This is completely unedited. So likely a lot of typos and the like. But I'll polish it up when I put it on AO3.

Why does Sixth Year have so many bonus scenes? Why?

This is Harry's POV of the infamous tower scene. The one where everyone was convinced I'd already done Draco's POV

Please...thoughts? This is 8,600 words.

Bonus Scene 1

Bonus Scene 2

Bonus Scene 3

Bonus Scene 4

Bonus Scene 5

Bonus Scene 6

Bonus Scene 7

Bonus Scene 8

Bonus Scene 9

Bonus Scene 10

Bonus Scene 11

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If he weren’t so frantic to reach the Astronomy Tower first, Harry would have been rather vindictively pleased that his worries about Hopkins being two-faced had come true. After months of Ron and Hermione brushing his concerns off and telling him he was reading too much into things, it was nice to realize that no, he really had been right.

Only he would rather not have been right here; being wrong would have been better. Because Malfoy had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts and Dumbledore was walking directly into a trap.

It wasn’t going to be fine. It wasn’t going to be fine at all.

He cursed the amount of stairs that the Astronomy Tower had, lungs burning as he gasped for air. But he finally made it to the top, stumbling through the door and into the freezing cold of the night. Dumbledore was there, facing Hopkins, who was looking out towards the landscape, his back to Harry and Dumbledore.

Harry yanked the Invisibility Cloak off, gasping for air. “Professor Dumbledore!” He had to stop, pulling in more breaths. “Don’t – he and Malfoy let Death Eaters into the castle! They’re coming here!”

They both turned to face him. Hopkins didn’t even look surprised, more exasperated, as he skimmed over Harry and then at the doorway, likely looking for Malfoy.

“You shouldn’t be here, Harry,” Dumbledore said, worried.

“I - what?” Harry blinked, disbelieving. Did Dumbledore not understand? This was a trap! “Did you not hear me?”

“I know they’re here,” Dumbledore said. “Wayne did not lure me here under false pretenses, as I’m sure you’re imagining right now.”

“But—”

“Get under your cloak, Harry,” Dumbledore urged. “Quickly now. And hide the others while you’re at it.”

“Others?” Harry barely had time to wonder who Dumbledore was referring to as “others” when shuffling sounds came from behind him. He whirled, surprised to see Neville, Ginny, and Luna there. Ginny and Luna both looked worried, but Neville seemed a little guilty.

“Sorry,” Neville said. “Harry snuck past first, and then Ginny went after him. I had to go, too.”

They didn’t even seem surprised. “You knew?” he accused.

“Of course we did,” Ginny answered bluntly. “We’re his friends.”

How did they not stop Hopkins then? Why did they just let it happen?

There was a small head shake from Luna as she looked past Harry. She seemed very worried.

“Get under the cloak,” Hopkins said. “And don’t interfere.”

Were they just supposed to let it happen? Harry had come here to get Dumbledore out of this, but now they were just going to let Malfoy waltz up here with his Death Eaters?

Ginny snatched his cloak out of his hands, huffing. She unfurled it with a snap, moving closer to Neville and Luna and giving Harry a look that very clearly meant get over here, idiot. Harry hastily stepped in closer, feeling the familiar silky feel of the cloak settle over his shoulders as they all pressed against the wall right by the door.

It was cramped. Harry had only ever hidden three people at one time under this cloak. With four it was a very tight squeeze and he and Neville both had to bend over to make sure that no ankles would show.

“You led us all the way out here instead of to Dumbledore’s office?” An unfamiliar man’s voice drifted out from the shadows beyond the door. “Why? Hoping you can push one of us off the tower?”

“I might have to bring you here, but the last thing you’ll do is mess around in Hogwarts,” Malfoy said tightly, voice flat. “He’s going to be here.”

“Do you have a copy of his schedule?” a sneering female voice asked. “Or did he tell you he was going to be on the tower at midnight?”

The first person Harry saw was Malfoy, his blond hair the lightest part of him in the night. He was flanked by two Death Eaters, apparently the two who Harry had just heard speaking. They were clad in threadbare robes. On closer inspection, they seemed to be two of the ones who had recently escaped Azkaban.

Harry knew there were others. He had seen more names appear on the map before he had bolted out of the Gryffindor dorms. He hadn’t managed to count them but knew it was more than two, and he had recognized Fenrir Greyback’s name among them.

“Is this a joke?” the unknown male snarled, pointing his wand at Hopkins. “Did you bring us here to face him?”

“Idiot.” This voice was deeper, more guttural and animalistic. “Dumbledore’s right there.”

There were six Death Eaters behind Malfoy, each of them stepping out of the doorway and into the open air. They all wore similar threadbare robes, except for Snape. What was Snape doing here?

Next to Harry, Ginny’s breathing was very loud, and he heard her swallow.

Aside from Snape and Greyback, Harry didn’t recognize any of the others present. One, a wizard with blond hair, towered over the others. There was another with a brutal face and light-colored hair. The third one was the most nondescript, fading into the background.

“Fenrir Greyback.” Dumbledore’s voice was quiet and calm. “I had not expected to see you here.”

Greyback’s teeth were sharp and yellow when he bared them. The moonlight cast harsh shadows on his face, highlighting the jagged scars. “How could I resist?”

“Alecto and Amycus Carrow…” Dumbledore’s eyes drifted to the two who were directly next to Malfoy. “Working together as always I see.”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do it, Draco,” Alecto said, grinning. “I thought you’d choke and then we could have our fun.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Malfoy snapped. “Now, you know why you’re here.”

“What are you planning, Draco?” Snape asked.

Malfoy barely deigned to glance at Snape. “Can’t you guess? Or do I need to spell everything out to you?”

“Don’t draw your wand there,” Amycus told Dumbledore. “My hand’s itching to Disarm you or push you right off, but we’ve been told this is Draco’s job.”

Malfoy looked startled, his wand twitching. “You were told what?”

“Did you think we’d do your dirty work for you? That maybe we’d die instead?” Amycus smirked. “Oh no. The Dark Lord thought you might pull something like this. Why do you think he sent so many of us?”

As the reality of the situation set in, Malfoy looked increasingly panicked. He didn’t seem to know what to do, his plan falling down around him.

“It’s your job to kill him.” Alecto’s voice was more of a sing-song than speech. “And weren’t you clever indeed? Bringing him out here, revealing yourself… If anyone knows anything about Albus Dumbledore, it’s the soft spot he has for his students.”

“You don’t need to do this, Draco.” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle.

The panic didn’t disappear, but Malfoy was back to pointing his wand at Dumbledore. “Yes, I do! You think you can keep him safe? You think you can keep any of us safe? You’re not even aware of the Death Eaters under your nose!”

Was that Malfoy’s angle? That he was doing this to keep them all safe? Was he stupid?

Dumbledore frowned slightly. “Do you think this will keep you safe?”

“It’s not about me,” Malfoy said. “If it had just been me I’d have thrown it back in his face because I never wanted this.” There was a slight crack in his voice.

Harry didn’t realize he’d gasped until Ginny stepped on his foot. That was–

“But because he brought Wayne into this, I couldn’t say no. So, yes, I have to do this.” Malfoy’s voice did break here. “I have to.”

Hopkins? This was about Hopkins?

Harry couldn’t even look for where Hopkins was to see his own reaction to this. He tightened his grip on his wand, fully prepared to do whatever he needed to in case spells started firing.

“You’re not a killer, Draco,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Don’t let him turn you into one.”

“Your friend doesn’t seem to care, does he?” Alecto sneered. “He’s letting you do this, isn’t he?”

“He didn’t want me to either,” Malfoy snapped angrily. “He told me—” He broke off, biting his lip hard. His wand hand was shaking.

“I told you there were options.” Hopkins’s voice was a surprise. But he wasn’t where Harry had last seen him, instead standing next to Malfoy.

“How’d he get there?” the brute-faced Death Eater hissed, voicing Harry’s own confusion. “Wasn’t he just over there?”

Hopkins ignored the Death Eaters, his attention solely on Malfoy. He didn’t have a wand in hand; he didn’t even seem nervous. He was just very intent on Malfoy. “But you have to make this choice. I can’t do it for you. Neither can Dumbledore.”

“I said I would,” Malfoy insisted, but he looked sick. He didn’t even look like he could cast a simple first-year charm, let alone the more advanced magic that killing someone would require. He inhaled, shoulders shifting. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”

Hopkins didn’t blink. “Then can you do it?”

Was Hopkins advocating for Malfoy killing Dumbledore or not? What was he here for?

“What are you doing, boy?” Snape demanded, his voice much louder than Hopkins’s quiet question.

Hopkins did look away from Malfoy now, albeit only briefly as he glanced at Snape and shook his head. When he spoke next, he sounded a little irritated. “Asking Draco a question and giving him a choice. You’re not in this.” And then he actually raised a finger, much like a professor hushing a student, then turned back to Malfoy. “Draco?” His voice had gentled again.

“I can,” Malfoy ground out, though his hand hadn’t stopped shaking. “I can.”

Hopkins didn’t look away from him. No one else did either, all of the Death Eaters and even Dumbledore watching Malfoy. For some odd reason, Snape waved his wand up at his throat, face pinching at whatever he was attempting to do.

The other three under the cloak with Harry either didn’t seem to be breathing or were breathing very loudly. Ginny was practically vibrating where she was pressed up against Harry.

Malfoy didn’t do anything beyond holding his wand on Dumbledore. He seemed almost paralyzed with indecision, shaking and trembling. His eyes were too wide and his skin far paler than usual.

“We’re waiting,” Greyback growled impatiently. “You know the consequences, boy.”

Malfoy’s eyes squeezed shut, and Hopkins glanced at Greyback, face impassively stony. For some reason Greyback took a step back, like he was actually scared of Hopkins.

“Damn it,” Malfoy whispered, “I can’t. I can’t.”

Something seemed to relax in Hopkins’s shoulders. “You can’t?”

Malfoy shook his head, several tears trickling down his cheeks. “I - fuck.”

“You don’t have to,” Hopkins murmured. Somehow his voice was the loudest thing there, gentle and quiet. He shifted closer to Malfoy, so close he could touch. “Draco, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

Malfoy stared at him, wide-eyed, tears wetting his cheeks. “I’m doing this for you.”

Why, Harry thought wildly. Why was Malfoy doing this for Hopkins?

“Do you trust me, Draco?” Hopkins asked, still in that gentle tone.

Malfoy blinked. “Of course I–”

“Do you trust me, Draco?” Hopkins repeated. There was an edge now, something almost desperate. “Do you trust that I can protect you?”

Greyback snarled, going to step forward. “You think you can–” His voice died from one syllable to the next. A clawed hand flew up to his throat, Greyback’s eyes widening as he mouthed silent words.

No one else spoke. Harry felt almost like he couldn’t speak or move, something holding him in place. He didn’t know what to think of what was happening here. Why Malfoy was doing all this for Hopkins; why Hopkins had even done this for Malfoy; why this was even happening.

It seemed like Malfoy hadn’t ever wanted to be a Death Eater, and that was something else throwing Harry for a loop because for as long as he knew Malfoy had been synonymous with being a Death Eater. Even with what had happened last year with the DA; that had been an anomaly. Malfoy’s behavior this year had been more predictable and normal.

Now it seemed like it had all been a ruse?

Malfoy didn’t look away from Hopkins. He seemed to be searching for something. And, eventually, he seemed to find whatever he was looking for. “I do,” he whispered. “And I don’t… I don’t want to kill anyone.” He looked at Dumbledore. “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

Hopkins’s “Good” was so quiet Harry could have missed it if it weren’t so quiet. He reached out to push Malfoy’s wrist down, taking his wand out of the equation. And then he was grinning, bright and warm and completely out of place. “Thank you, Draco.”

Why was he grinning like that when they were surrounded by bloodthirsty Death Eaters? Malfoy’s decision to not become a murderer tonight wasn’t cause for that much celebration.

Greyback’s growl was bloodcurdling, Harry’s hairs rising on end at the sound. The werewolf didn’t move, baring his teeth and continuing that low, terrifying growl.

Malfoy shoved Hopkins behind him, stepping protectively in front of him. “Don’t you dare!”

“You dare defy our Lord?” Amycus brandished his wand. “You’re dead meat.”

“I don’t think so.” Dumbledore’s pleasant tone was entirely at odds with the spell that left his wand, missing Amycus but hitting the brute-faced Death Eater and knocking him prone.

Ginny reacted faster than Harry could, whipping off the cloak and firing a jinx at Alecto that tripped her up, but Harry wasn’t far behind her, firing off his own jinx at Amycus. Neville and Luna were a little slower, their own spells joining Ginny’s.

Malfoy sounded startled. “Where did–”

Harry ducked a curse that flew over his shoulder, almost elbowing Ginny in her shoulder before he managed to sidestep.

“Wayne!” Malfoy’s cry was distraught, terrified, cutting through the chaos of the spells flying through the air.

Harry turned, then stopped on seeing Greyback with his teeth in Hopkins’s arm. Malfoy was on the stones behind them, looking up at them with an expression of utter terror and disbelief. It wasn’t an expression Harry had ever seen on him before.

Hopkins didn’t even flinch at the teeth in his arm. He seemed faintly disgusted but not in pain.

There was a pained whimper, and Greyback staggered backwards, hands covering his mouth. There were multiple teeth embedded in Hopkins’s sleeve where Greyback had bitten him, and they were shaken off a second later with a dismissive hand. There was no blood despite how Greyback had bitten down.

Hopkins narrowed his eyes at Greyback, straightening. “I suppose despite your appearance, you’re still more man than beast, Fenrir Greyback.”

Greyback spat out a mouthful of blood on the stone, looking up at Hopkins with watery eyes. “What—”

“Sometimes I have to look,” Hopkins continued in a conversational tone, “but with you? I don’t even have to try. Your name’s splashed across history: the man who took the werewolf curse and decided to spread it to everyone he could. The man who isn’t even a man anymore.”

Malfoy had managed to get to his feet, reaching out to touch Hopkins’s back. “Wayne. What are you–”

“What did he threaten you with, Draco?”

Malfoy stuttered, eyes widening. The ashen cast to his face, which had never disappeared, worsened. “He – you—” he stammered, terror in his voice.

Hopkins didn’t look away from Greyback, something too bright in his eyes. And Harry abruptly remembered that Hopkins had said he was a Legilimens. “You threatened to turn him? No…you threatened to turn him and watch him kill me?” He tilted his head. “Creative enough, I suppose. I have to give you credit for that.”

There was something so casual about how Hopkins spoke, even as shivers ran down Harry’s spine at the tone. There was nothing casual at all about how Hopkins approached Greyback, who seemed frozen in place. And then, curling his fingers in, Hopkins pressed his index and middle fingers to Greyback’s forehead. “You enjoy the taste of human flesh that much? Try your own.”

Harry blinked in confusion. That hadn’t - oh what the bloody hell.

Greyback had bitten into his own hand, tearing off a gigantic piece of skin and muscle and swallowing it. And then he took another bite.

Harry gagged, then swallowed, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“Greyback!” Alecto snapped, horrified. “Snap out of it!”

Greyback did not snap out of it. There was a distinct snapping sound as Greyback bit through bone and swallowed, blood and gore and skin smeared around the skin of his mouth.

“Greyback!” Alecto cried. “Finite Incantatum!”

The spell splashed off Greyback and did nothing. Greyback ripped off what remained of his arm with his free hand, blood spraying like a water fountain.

A bloody water fountain, Harry thought hysterically. What the bloody hell was going on?

“You bastard!” Alecto whirled on Hopkins. “What did you do? Take it off! Now!”

A purple-colored spell left her wand, unerringly aimed at Hopkins. He didn’t move, seeming more bored than anything else as he watched the beam of light approach before he raised an eyebrow and the spell suddenly reversed. Alecto quickly sidestepped it, eyes wide as she stared at him.

A squelching sound had Harry looking back at Greyback, only to see Greyback digging through his own stomach. “He isn’t–” He couldn’t voice it, nausea roiling his stomach.

He was. Greyback pulled out what looked like a roundish mass and bit into it like it was an apple. It made a very unpleasant squishing sound as this happened.

“Oh my God,” Ginny moaned. She was looking very green, her hand over her mouth. To her side, Neville seemed just as green and Luna wasn’t even looking, eyes squeezed shut. “Michael–”

Michael?

Hopkins’s eyes glowed briefly, a blinding white, before the light faded back to the normal brown. He didn’t seem even remotely surprised at what was happening before him.

The rest of what was likely Greyback’s stomach was stuffed into his mouth, and then he was digging into his own chest, those deadly claws piercing through skin and muscle and bone, ripping apart his own rib cage with loud cracks.

Another curse was cast, this one by the nondescript Death Eater, but it was also reversed and hit the caster in the stomach, drawing out a pained wheeze and a curse from the brute-faced Death Eater. No one had raised a wand to block it; Hopkins hadn’t even turned around.

“Stop this.” Dumbledore sounded horrified and disgusted.

Hopkins said nothing, not looking away from Greyback as the werewolf finally pulled out a beating heart. Implausibly, it still pulsed with life in his grasp. Until Greyback stuffed all of it into his mouth. The last of it had just disappeared behind bloody gums and teeth when Greyback finally stilled, one hand still at his mouth.

“I did,” Hopkins said as Greyback slowly slumped to the bloody stones, lifeless. “The lack of teeth made it a little more difficult than expected.”

Harry didn’t know who started speaking, but he did hear the “Avada—” before it abruptly cut off with a hand wave from Hopkins.

“Enough. I’m not here for you.” For some reason, Hopkins looked at Amycus, who paled dramatically. Well, if Harry were him, he would also be reconsidering all his life choices.

Malfoy certainly looked like he was reevaluating everything he’d known of Hopkins. It was crystal clear he hadn’t known about Hopkins’s little tendency towards Dark magic.

“I’m sorry.” Hopkins actually sounded like he meant it. He walked through the blood on the ground, disregarding the pieces of bone and half-eaten muscle and skin on the stone. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Malfoy’s voice was choked. “That you – you’re a Dark Lord?”

“Never that,” Hopkins denied despite all evidence to the contrary. He even looked down at Greyback’s body. “No. I told you the truth. I want him dead. And I intend on seeing that through. But first…would you give me your arm?”

Malfoy took a step back and even turned to the side to hide his left arm.

Hopkins actually looked pained. “I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly. “I never will. Do you remember what I told you before?”

Malfoy didn’t respond, breathing shaky.

When it became clear Malfoy wouldn’t answer, Hopkins continued, “I won’t judge you.”

For some reason, this had Ginny, Luna, and Neville drawing in sharp breaths.

Malfoy didn’t respond, though something flickered over his face. He didn’t otherwise move, staring at Hopkins.

Harry felt just as paralyzed as Malfoy. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn’t. No one else moved either, all of them watching the two. Even the Death Eaters seemed motionless.

But then, slowly, Malfoy did extend his left arm towards Hopkins. It was shaking.

Hopkins reached out, pulling back the sleeve and baring the Dark Mark. It was a dark black against Malfoy’s white skin. “This might sting a little.”

Compared to what? Eating his own heart?

Except instead of anything else that he could have done, Hopkins ran his hand down over Malfoy’s arm and when he lifted it the skin was smooth and utterly bare of any marks. Hopkins’s hand was curled, something sparking in his grasp like he was holding something.

Hopkins was smiling slightly, soft and gentle and warm. He didn’t look away from Malfoy. “You never wanted it?” He huffed. “I wanted to take it off the moment I saw it, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“You were there?” Malfoy blurted out, eyes wide. “I - I heard you!”

“I was,” Hopkins admitted. “I was going to kill Voldemort then but…” He let Malfoy’s hand go, stepping back and opening his own hand to reveal the sparking thing he had been holding in his hand.

None of this made any sense. Hopkins wanted to kill Voldemort? Well, he could get in line with everyone else, but why did he seem so confident about it?

Harry hesitated, then looked down at Greyback’s corpse. Fine, he could understand why Hopkins would be so confident with that.

Hopkins made an odd gesture like plucking a string, one finger brushing through the writhing shape of something he had in his hand. A beat later, five cracks resonated through the air, and there were five thuds as more bodies hit the floor. One had a familiar silver arm.

One of the figures promptly disappeared a moment later, leaving behind only four. And one…

One was Voldemort. Only he looked different, scarred and bleeding from countless oozing scars that were inscribed into his skin. On closer look, it was countless Dark Marks.

A large snake was curled up on the stones next to him, hissing swears and curses at having been unceremoniously teleported.

Voldemort stared up at Hopkins, something on his face that Harry had never seen before. There was anger, but there was also… Voldemort was afraid.

“Michael.” Voldemort slowly stood, drawing himself to his full height, black robes billowing around him. “Or should I say Wayne Hopkins? Yes,” he hissed, “I found out who you really are. You are not half as clever as you think you are.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” Hopkins said, eyes moving up from Nagini towards Voldemort. “I’ll be honest. I’ve never taken care of the same person twice.”

“And you won’t,” Voldemort stated, red eyes narrowed in on Hopkins. “You could join me, you know. With your abilities, you and I…we could be great. And your friends would be safe.”

There was a low laugh from Hopkins. It sounded vaguely incredulous. “You are full of yourself, aren’t you? What do you think you can offer me, child?”

Child? Child?

“You haven’t even broken your first century,” Hopkins continued speaking, like he wasn’t talking down to a Dark Lord.

“Bold words from a boy not even out of Hogwarts.”

“I think you more than anyone should be able to understand that one’s physical vessel doesn’t mean anything.” Hopkins gave a slow smile, the sight of it sending shivers down Harry’s spine. “Tell me…have you even cast a spell since you came back?”

Voldemort’s hand flexed around the grip of his wand. “You know not of what you speak!”

“Don’t I?” Hopkins’s tone was idle, much like he was delivering a lecture. “It’s an interesting piece of magic. Do they even know what you did? That the brand you put on their skin feeds on their magic? One doesn’t make much of a difference, but with the amount you have on your skin? I’d be surprised if you even have enough for a simple Lumos.”

“My Lord?” Pettigrew’s voice wavered. “What does he speak of?”

“Nothing, Pettigrew,” Voldemort snapped, red eyes fixed on Hopkins. “You are not as all-powerful as you would pretend to be. And you cannot kill me; no one can.”

“Your Horcruxes,” Dumbledore said quietly, “how many did you make, Tom? Seven?”

That was the issue. Without the Horcruxes being gone, it didn’t matter what Hopkins could do. It seemed like he had been the one responsible for killing Voldemort last time, but it clearly hadn’t stuck because of the Horcruxes.

Hopkins raised his eyebrows but didn’t otherwise seem surprised. “Is that what they’re called? Horcrux?”

It was something about how he said it… “You don’t seem surprised,” Harry slowly said. It was almost as if Hopkins had run into them himself.

“Not seven,” Hopkins continued, drawing the words out, “but eight. Eight soul echoes – eight of these Horcruxes. You made another. You—” He snapped his mouth shut, an emotion crossing his face that looked very much like fury, though it was far colder than anything Harry had ever seen. “Do you realize what you did to yourself? Echo after echo after echo, until what you possess isn’t even your soul anymore but the smallest echo of what you once held. And then you have the audacity to do it again?”

“I have transcended human limits!” Voldemort declared. “I have gone where no one dared to tread, and even you cannot stop me!”

“You transcended nothing,” Hopkins said flatly. “Even demons wouldn’t dare to do what you’ve done, Tom, and demons dare a great deal.”

Demons? None of this was making any sense.

“You defiled my Father’s gift,” Hopkins continued, “and for that…” He looked away from Voldemort, attention shifting to Nagini; he knelt down on the stones with one knee. “Come here.” His tone was gentle, entirely different from how he had been speaking to Voldemort. There were some sharp gasps from the others, though this didn’t seem any more unusual than anything else Hopkins had done so far; it was perhaps the most normal action of the night. “You’re carrying something that doesn’t belong to you.”

“Nagini!” Voldemort made a gesture but then seemed to be frozen.

Nagini, that giant snake that had attacked and nearly killed Mr. Weasley, slithered up to Hopkins and picked up her head until she was nose-to-nose with him, her tongue flicking out. She said nothing and neither did Hopkins, but he did touch her head. His lips moved, though Harry heard nothing, and then the hand at her head sunk in.

Harry flinched back, something in him aching at the sight. Nagini was writhing but Hopkins somehow had her held fast. Her entire body flickered with light that splintered over her scales like lightning. Her hissing sounded like screaming even though it wasn’t anything like a human’s screams.

Malfoy was frozen behind Hopkins, watching everything with wide eyes. He seemed just as confused as Harry about the entire affair. Glancing at Hopkins’s other three friends showed they weren’t confused but they were wary.

As suddenly as the light had started, it disappeared, and Hopkins’s hand reemerged with something dark crackling between his fingers. Nagini collapsed to the floor, the only sign of life the heaving breaths she was pulling in and the occasional flickering of her tongue.

Hopkins looked up at Voldemort, holding the thing in his hand. “One,” he said calmly, and then his hand flared with white light. The crackling dark energy disappeared with something like a faint scream of rage and agony that sounded all too familiar. Hopkins brushed his hand off on his robes, then slowly stood. “Seven more, you said?” he said to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was silent, his expression blank. He seemed at an utter loss.

“You cannot find them,” Voldemort said desperately. “You cannot!”

“I’ll grant you that it took me a while,” Hopkins said dryly. “But can’t?” He splayed his hand open, palm facing up, and an old book suddenly appeared. He threw it up into the air, stating, “Two.” The book disappeared a moment later into thin air. Hopkins flicked his fingers like throwing a coin into a fountain, and a small band flew through the air, glistening faintly before it disappeared like the book had. “Three.” He held out a clenched hand, only to release it and for a golden locket with a sparkling green S on it to slip out, twirling on a chain. “Four.” He pulled the locket back up into his hand, and when he next opened his hand a small golden cup with a badger on it was sitting in the palm of his hand. “Five.” The cup disappeared into his hand once more and when he turned his hand around a silver crown swung around a finger once before also vanishing. “Six.” And then, inexplicably, he pointed to Harry. “Seven.”

What? Why was he pointing at Harry–

“And eight.” Hopkins pointed at Voldemort, lips curling. “Eight soul echoes – eight Horcruxes as you like to name them. You’ve nothing left, Tom.”

“You lie,” Voldemort hissed, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. “I did nothing to Potter!”

Beyond attempting to kill Harry multiple times… Was Hopkins insinuating Harry had been a Horcrux? Why else would he be pointing to Harry after just having pulled out a variety of different objects that he was claiming had belonged to Voldemort?

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, but he couldn’t pick up anything on his face. Dumbledore didn’t look at him; the Headmaster was looking at Voldemort and Hopkins.

“Really?” Hopkins sounded a little surprised. “I suppose it happened when your first attempt at killing him went so terribly awry.”

“Let me go,” Voldemort said, taking a step back as Hopkins went to move closer. “Let me go, and I will share my knowledge with you!”

“Lucifer himself couldn’t tempt me,” Hopkins said quietly. “What makes you think you could, boy?”

There was something so wrong about seeing Wayne Hopkins mock and call Voldemort a boy and somehow sincerely mean it. Somehow Hopkins even made it work, injecting the appropriate amount of scorn and derision.

“You fear death so much?” Hopkins continued, each word clearly enunciated. He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing through the space. “Then meet him.”

Hopkins’s friends seemed as confused as everyone else was. They exchanged glances, then looked back at Hopkins. Malfoy hadn’t moved from his position beyond taking a few steps away from Nagini.

There was otherwise no sound beyond the sound of the wind and the rustling of fabric.

Something should happen, right? There was supposed to be something–

A tall, skeletal-like being walked into being next to Hopkins, tapping a cane against the stones. His skin was white, paper thin, drawn tight over high cheekbones; his black hair was neatly combed back and his suit finely pressed. He looked like someone about to go to a funeral.

The man…the being - because he did not seem human no matter how much he looked like one - drew in a long breath, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at Hopkins. “Hello, Michael.”

It was that name again. The one Ginny had used and then Voldemort and now this one. Was Hopkins not Hopkins? Was he someone else?

Hopkins - Michael dropped his hand. He actually looked a little surprised, even though he had been the one to dramatically snap his fingers to begin with. “You’re here.”

“You did call, didn’t you?” The being said in a very mild tone that had shivers running down Harry’s spine. It was the type of tone that bode ill. “A call for judgment no less… You haven’t wielded your sword thus in years, Michael. Of course I was a little curious.” His smile was amused.

Harry opened his mouth, unsure of what exactly he was going to say, to ask, but Ginny elbowed him, hissing “Don’t. Say. A word.”

On taking in the sight once more, Harry closed his mouth. He could probably ask questions later if they all made it out of this.

“Who are you?” Voldemort demanded, clearly under no such compunctions to remain silent. “What are you?”

“Two entirely different questions, I think,” the being said, fixing dark eyes on Voldemort. Harry was suddenly very glad that he wasn’t the one currently being scrutinized like a bug under a magnifying glass. “But for you, Tom Marvolo Riddle? Michael kindly did you the liberty of making the appointment you’ve missed several times.”

The being glanced at Michael. “I don’t typically make house calls, but for you… Yes, I see the judgment is apt. Lack of practice hasn’t dulled your senses, Michael.”

“I’ve had some practice recently,” Michael said with a faint, chilly smile. “My first try didn’t go quite so well.” He gestured towards Voldemort, his hand gesture encompassing all of him.

“Well, you can’t always get it right immediately.” That cane tapped against the ground once, the sound echoing. “Come, Tom. Your time is up.”

Voldemort shook his head, eyes wild. “It isn’t—” And suddenly the being was next to Voldemort, touching his shoulder and then the being was gone and Voldemort hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Pettigrew let out a cry of dismay. “My Lord!” He ran to Voldemort’s side, fluttering around anxiously until he finally touched him, shaking him lightly.

If Harry were in his position, he probably also wouldn’t have wanted to touch Voldemort so casually like that.

“Well?” Alecto demanded. “What happened?”

Pettigrew looked up, face drawn. “He’s dead. The Dark Lord is dead!” He sounded horrified.

He was dead? Just like that? A hand on the shoulder and then…nothing? How did that even work?

“Dead as he was before?” the enormous blond Death Eater asked. “Narcissa thought he was dead as well if you recall.”

“He has no more Horcruxes,” Dumbledore said with finality. “If what…Wayne here showed was true, then Voldemort has nothing tying him to this world.”

“He’s dead.” Hopkins - Michael’s voice was flat, forbidding any argument. He tilted his head, eyes scanning all the present Death Eaters. “For good this time. Now…the rest of you…”

There was a small shuffle, Luna stepping forward. “Michael…”

Michael did stop, eyes flicking from the Death Eaters to Luna, Ginny, and Neville. He even looked briefly at Harry. He did not look back at Malfoy, but Malfoy hadn’t looked away from Michael, eyes fixed on his back.

Finally, Michael let out a small breath that sounded like a sigh, something like regret flickering over his face. “I’ll let them take care of you.” He gestured towards Dumbledore and Snape. “Your master is dead, so I’d put your wands down.”

“You think he’s dead?” Amycus shouted. “You think the Dark Lord – the greatest wizard of our time – is dead? He died once before! And we refused to bow! We refused to forsake him! Do you think you scare us?”

Why were some Death Eaters without any sense of self-preservation? They had just seen unimaginable magic right in front of them, their master dead, and now they were going to continue to provoke the being responsible?

Harry glanced at Pettigrew, who was still kneeling over Voldemort. He tightened his fingers around his wand, breathing in and out slowly.

“I thought you would be more intelligent than this, yes,” Michael said off to the side. His tone was ice cold, anger licking at the edges of his words. “Especially you, Amycus.”

“He will come back!” Amycus proclaimed. “And you will not be the one to stop us!”

The silence seemed very pointed. Harry didn’t look away from Pettigrew.

“Crucio!” Alecto cried.

Oh, fine. There were a few Disarming spells from his friends, but Harry went straight for the ropes, wrapping them around Pettigrew before the rat could even think of running away. He was not going to let this chance slip away from him another time.

He lunged forwards, ducking under the rapid spell fire that had started up again, and then spun towards the enormous blond Death Eater to shoot a hex his way. He almost tripped over another Death Eater who had ended up on the floor, then almost slipped on a puddle of blood and gore.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Wayne!”

Harry did slip this time, the ground shaking beneath his feet, and he fell over before he could catch his balance. There were loud crashing sounds, and there was something too bright that hurt his eyes. He ducked his head to hide behind his arms, something else telling him to hide.

Something screeched, rang, echoed, the ground shaking again. The stones vibrated underneath him, and it even felt like his bones were shaking. There was a brief moment of silence, and then a shorter cacophony of sound before it cut off again.

When the silence lasted a little longer this time, Harry chanced looking up, relieved when his eyes didn’t hurt. But he did see Michael on the edge of the Tower, broken stones scattered around him. His expression was stony but somehow Harry still had the impression that he was absolutely furious.

“Your colleagues in the Ministry tried that spell once before; they suffered for it.” His hand swept to the side like he was brushing aside a curtain. Those Death Eaters who were still standing suddenly found themselves knocked to the walls with heavy thuds. And then suddenly Michael was no longer standing there but instead in front of Amycus, one hand at his throat and bodily lifting the man a foot in the air. “What did I say before?” His tone was idle, like he was having a conversation about the weather. “That you were already dead?”

“You don’t have to kill him!” Malfoy cried. He swallowed, face whiter than usual. “Wa - Michael.”

Michael didn’t let a purpling, choking Amycus go. “He tried to kill you.”

“But you don’t have to kill him,” Malfoy said tentatively. Slowly, hesitantly, he started moving forward.

“Draco,” Snape hissed in warning.

Malfoy waved him off, continuing to approach Michael until he was standing right next to him. “You said that to me. I…I don’t really know who you are, but I know you said that.”

There was a surprised shriek from Alecto as her wand suddenly shattered in her hand.

Michael didn’t move aside from turning his head to look at Malfoy. He said nothing and neither did Malfoy. The two of them just stared at each other. Malfoy looked absolutely terrified still but was holding his ground.

Eventually, Michael’s mouth twisted, something pained flickering over his face. His grip on Amycus’s throat loosened, the Death Eater falling to the ground in a gasping heap. There was gagging, Amycus desperately trying to catch his breath.

“I find,” Michael said, looking between each of the Death Eaters, “that humans can sometimes be all too forgiving.” He met his friends’ eyes. “I’m afraid I have only so much to give. And you?” He lifted a hand, fingers curling in. At the same time, Amycus rose from the ground like a grisly marionette. “Judgment doesn’t always require death.”

Harry didn’t even have time to wonder what Michael meant when Michael laid a hand over Amycus’s Dark Mark and his right sunk into Amycus’s chest.

There was no blood. There was no - there was no blood. It was just - it didn’t even seem like Michael had punctured a hole into Amycus’s chest; it was more like his arm had merged with Amycus like the world’s worst roadside circus show.

Amycus wasn’t screaming, but it seemed like that was more because he was in too much pain to vocalize than because it was painless. His bulging eyes and the protruding veins on his neck said it all.

It was a few seconds before Michael pulled his hand out, something odd crackling in it that was eviscerated. Simultaneously, some of the other Death Eaters shrieked while a few just collapsed to their knees, clutching at their chests while light flashed over their skin like lightning. Snape dropped his wand, digging his fingers into his chest but not saying a word.

Amycus collapsed to the stone floor in an ungainly heap, gasping and clutching at his own chest. It was still whole, with no sign that Michael had a hand in there. Harry would have said it was impossible if not for what he had just seen.

”Thank you.” Malfoy’s voice was barely discernible among the pained whimpers of the Death Eaters.

Michael turned towards him, a faint smile briefly crossing his face. It seemed pained. “The only thing I didn’t tell you was my name. You do know me, Draco.”

Malfoy didn’t look away from Michael. “But a name hides a past and you…you’re not human, are you?”

There was a low mutter from one of the few Death Eaters still standing, followed by a cry of dismay. “It’s - it’s not working! Expelliarmus!”

Harry jerked to counter, only to pause on noticing that there was no response from the man’s wand.

“Bombarda! Crucio! Work, damn it!” This was another one, his own wand similarly unresponsive.

Something was wrong. Harry glanced at Snape, seeing him stare at his own wand in blatant horror.

Something was wrong and Harry didn’t quite know what.

Michael seemed utterly unconcerned about it. Of course. He was the one responsible for it, wasn’t he? ”I’m leaving the Death Eaters to you, Albus.”

Dumbledore didn’t seem to know what to do with that. “Thank you. They will be appropriately taken care of.” His eyes fell on one who had been vainly trying to cast Lumos.

Michael nodded, turning around and walking towards his friends.

Some of the awful pressure that had settled on Harry’s shoulders lifted and he found he could breathe more easily. He dropped his eyes to where Pettigrew lay bound in ropes on the stone floor. He seemed on the verge of passing out, no blood in his face.

This was the one good thing to come from this night, Harry thought. This and Voldemort’s death. He wouldn’t ever have to go back to the Dursleys.

”They wouldn’t tell us who they were.” Amycus’s voice was hoarse.

A slow chill traveled down Harry’s spine. He lifted his head, eyes immediately landing on Michael where he had frozen.

”We said we’d let them go if they told us who you were, but they both said no.” Amycus didn’t seem to realize what exactly he was courting. Or maybe he did and didn’t care.

Harry saw a flicker of white light in Michael’s eyes. Something too bright and almost painful to look at it before it was gone. There was no discernible emotion on his face. Behind Michael, Malfoy blanched.

”I wanted to play,” Amycus continued, a disgusting leer on his face. “Your mother especially… She wasn’t bad looking for a filthy Muggle-lover. I hear things about those women - would have been nice to know if they were true.”

”Please stop talking,” Luna begged, voicing Harry’s thoughts. She was also staring at Michael, eyes wide and something like terror beginning to form. It was the first time Harry had seen that emotion on her face tonight. “Please.”

Amycus didn’t look away from Michael’s terrifyingly impassive visage. “Your father died too quick—” His voice cut off in a strangled gurgle, his eyes bulging. He scrabbled at his throat, making an awful gasping noise.

”You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” Michael’s voice was blank and all the more horrifying for how there were faint flickers of silvery, too-bright light in his eyes. Something about his body seemed almost shimmery, his skin almost glowing. “I would have let you go. I would have let you live.”

”You - you won’t.” Amycus sounded like he was choking, grasping at his throat. “Not with the Malfoy boy telling you no.”

Harry looked at Malfoy, at how he was so white so as to look ill. Even still, he looked dark next to the shimmering aura around Michael.

He didn’t know how Malfoy could move, but Malfoy did, touching Michael’s arm. He didn’t seem at all affected by the terrible pressure weighing down on Harry’s shoulders - on the desire to make himself as small as possible.

”I won’t stop you,” Malfoy said, eyes on Amycus.

Harry didn’t blink but suddenly Michael was no longer where he had been before. No, he was before Amycus, one hand diving into Amycus’s chest and then emerging with a white something that almost seemed to be screaming. It looked vaguely humanoid shape but fizzled at the edges, like it had trouble keeping its shape.

The ethereal glow of Michael’s body had strengthened, along with the silvery sheen to his eyes, though the worst of the glow was centered on what he was holding. At his feet, Amycus looked to be dead.

”Did you never think about why your master told you to send someone in your place?” Michael asked, seeming to be speaking to the thing he was holding. His voice was emotionless yet Harry had the impression he was utterly furious. “Why he told you to do it quickly and without giving them time to call someone? Without giving you time to alert me?”

There was something that hurt Harry’s ears, and he could see the others flinching back. Snape shook his head, though Neville was full on covering his ears with a pained wince.

”I’d throw you into Hell,” Michael continued, almost nonsensically except at this point nothing seemed impossible for him, “but there’s no Hell here for me to reach. So while that option isn’t available…I did pick some tricks up from my brother.” His other hand sunk into what looked like the middle of the thing he was holding, and Harry’s ears rung with something that was almost on the edge of his hearing. “You might know him as Lucifer.”

Lucifer? Harry was inundated with images of red-skinned devils with horns, beaky noses, mustaches, fangs, and slitted eyes. Lucifer the devil?

At this point it was all just going to happen.

There was a shriek that pierced through Harry’s head, and the ground shook beneath his feet. He wobbled, one hand covering an ear while the other kept a firm grip of his wand.

Harry couldn’t hear anything else over the sounds of that agonized shrieking, but he saw Luna lunge forward to clutch Michael into a hug from behind, seeming uncaring of how brightly he was glowing and what he was doing to whatever he was holding.

There was only the slightest hint of emotion now on Michael’s face, something Harry couldn’t entirely interpret but seemed hard.

Then another moment passed, and the emotionless mask broke to something else, Michael’s eyes closing and his mouth twisting. The shrieking abated slightly.

Luna still held onto Michael, though Harry had trouble seeing her with the light around them.

Suddenly the terrible pressure was gone and whatever Michael was holding just floated there, suspended in midair. It looked almost fractured, fading in and out like a bad TV connection, and it coalesced into something more like a ball than the humanoid shape from earlier.

Michael had curled in on himself, one hand pressed to his mouth and his eyes still tightly shut. “Let - let go.” His voice was strangled, nothing like the blank tone from earlier, “or I’m going to hurt you.”

If Luna said anything, Harry couldn’t hear it, but he did see Malfoy reaching out to touch Michael’s shoulder and actually stepping closer.

It was a moment before Michael gave a breathless laugh, one that sounded more genuine that the last one he’d given to Voldemort. “I’m not sure those lucky potions were designed with angels in mind.”

Angels?

A look back at Michael’s friends showed no surprise on their faces. Naturally.

The terrible glow around Michael had faded with the pressure, and it was now only the glow from the crackling, fractured thing before him. Harry could see that Luna was no longer holding onto him as tightly.

“It worked tonight, didn’t it?” Luna said, presumably in response to Michael’s comment on lucky potions.

Michael said nothing else in response, looking down at the glowing ball. His expression was complicated. For an instant that blank look was back again before it shifted to weariness. He pulled away from Luna, picking up the glowing ball and then just shoving it into Amycus’s chest. (That had been Amycus?!)

Crackling light burst through Amycus’s chest at the same time as he dragged in a heaving breath and let it out in a pained moan that had Harry’s chest aching in sympathy for an instant before he reminded himself of what Amycus had been responsible for.

(Guiltily, Harry didn’t know if he would have done any different if he’d been in Michael’s position.)

“I’m leaving,” Michael said, looking at some point off in the distance over the grounds, “before someone else decides they’d like to test their luck.”

“You’re leaving?” Malfoy sounded panicked. He looked almost like he wanted to reach out and take hold of Michael’s arm.

Michael’s answering smile looked ridiculously normal for someone who had just single-handedly taken care of Voldemort and his Death Eaters and also tortured Amycus. “Just for now. And you..if you want something…just call my name. I’m going to go somewhere that’s not Pluto.”

Pluto? Harry took a moment of thinking of the animated dog before Michael disappeared and Harry thought of the other Pluto that had actually disappeared for a little earlier this year. ….At this point why was he even surprised that Michael was talking about Pluto the planet? Was it hyperbole? Could he actually Apparate to Pluto? If he was an angel as he claimed, that would be possible, right?

…Did angels even Apparate?

Harry pressed his fingers to his eyes, feeling tension press in at his forehead. This night hadn’t gone at all as he expected, in both good and bad ways.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked Luna. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Luna said it with absolute faith and in complete contradiction of everything they’d seen earlier tonight.

Harry did not look at Greyback’s corpse.

“Did the potion tell you that?” Neville asked.

“No.” Luna turned then, looking at Malfoy, who was staring at the space where Michael had been only moments ago. “How are you?”

Malfoy startled, head jerking up. He seemed only half aware of things, a little dazed. He looked between Ginny, Neville, and Luna, glanced at Harry, looked at Dumbledore and Snape, and then looked between all the Death Eaters that were in various states of incapacitation on the ground. “...Yes,” he said eventually, nonsensically.

Luna frowned, though Dumbledore clearing his throat stalled her from saying anything else. “A change in locations is in order, I believe. As is contacting the Ministry so they can take everyone off our hands.” He frowned down at Nagini, who hadn’t said a word or even moved since Michael had destroyed the Horcrux in her. She seemed to be unconscious.

Snape seemed supremely uncomfortable, clenching and unclenching his hands before finally crossing his arms over his chest.

Well, everyone was uncomfortable. A change in locations would be good. Along with answers. Answers would also be nice.

Ron and Hermione weren’t going to believe him.

#first born #my writing #the last archangel #michael #bonus scene #sixth year

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joulukuusi · 14 days ago

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Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Sex Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Lavender Brown, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Astoria Greengrass, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter), Angst, Swearing, Smut Summary:

War is on the horizon. In an attempt to bring the Houses together, the professors at Hogwarts initiate new Prefect partnerships. Against their will, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy begrudgingly find themselves patrolling the halls of Hogwarts together, night after night. As the pressure rises for them both to complete their separate missions on opposite sides of the brewing war, perhaps there is more that unites them than sets them apart after all. With friendships and loyalties put to the test, will they be able to pave a new path forward, before it's too late?

My first fanfic is on AO3, If you guys want to check it out I will continue to post the rest of the chapters in the coming weeks! Hope you want to read along!

#dramione #fic #fanfic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter #sixth year #prefect partners

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mourningliliesmorningglories · 5 months ago

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that one gracie abrams song that goes “you know me, you know me” except it should be an edit of harry watching draco in sixth year

#harry potter #draco malfoy #sixth year #dark mark #drarry #hpdm #harry really said “don’t you think malfoy is acting weird?#and draco was acting weird

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miareadsstuff · 3 months ago

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GUYS I NEED HELP

i read this romione fic like 4 months ago and i can’t remember the name for the life of me.

it was during sixth year when lavender and ron were still dating, and it had like jeopardy game in it where ron and hermione kept pretending not to know the answers that were abt each other but then they gave in and lavender and ron broke up cuz hermione and ron were making goo goo eyes at each other the whole time

PLSSSSS HELP I RLY NEED TO READ IT AGAIN

#romione #romione fanfic #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #harry potter #lavender brown #sixth year

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writingmccord · 18 days ago

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reading back through my last chapter I posted and I really said “she sits and weights” 🤡

I had so many typos in this chapter guys lol my bad

the mental state shining through in my writing as usual!!!

#sixth year

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oxfordelise · 10 months ago

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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Reflect

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Reflect

| AO3 | FFN |

Draco reflects on everything that happened when he was summoned and tries to recover on his own. Hermione realizes something that might, quite possibly, change everything.

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unveiledlegacy42 · 7 months ago

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Trust My Rage

《Content Warning: vigilante, v!olence, anger, 4ssault, snippet of future sixth year Alfie》

Something changed Alfie in the Summer months after his fifth year, he couldn't explain the feeling nor could he really feel it beneath his skin. This inexplicable feeling within his chest, pulling taut as if part of him wants to be untethered. When Alfie returned to Hogwarts, there was a certain darkness that accompanied him, that lengthened his shadow casting behind him, where horns grew from his head.

The whispers and chatters from students felt like those orbs of eyes around Professor Hecat's classroom, unsettling, unnerving. Alfie's shoulders would often be raised, as each step he took, each days passed, he began to be less and less in tune with the world around him as he knew it. The parts of him, innocent and mischievous, had snapped from its tethers the moment he knelt in front of a funeral pyre, where he had rest his heated forehead against his cold wrists, where tears fell and his heart ached with unbearable pain.

Each time he ventures beyond the castle walls, his shadow would follow, the kind that loomed over camps of dark wizards and poachers. His coat would flutter in the wind, swirling with skulls, his gloved fingers tightening around the hilt of his wand as his breath cooled the surface of his mask. His shadow was the first they ever saw, like wings spreading outwards, the sight of the skull on his ensemble only meant their demise.

He would have never expected to turn on his classmates so quickly. Although they still didn't know better than to mess with a kid whose anger swirled like a hurricane within him. They wouldn't know as they accidentally hit Alfie's back with gobstone marbles, staining the fabric with a foul stench.

They wouldn't know until he rose from his seat, gripping his quill with his right hand as he turned towards them. They would only know, when the inked end of the quill meets flesh of a boy's hand, when the leather tome from another desk lands squarely on another's nose and the feather end of the quill sliced open another boy's cheek. Only then they would see the anger swirling in his emerald green eyes, hear the heavy breaths expelled from his lips. Once, twice, three times before a chuckle as deep as a beast within a cavern, rose from his chest.

Only then did they hear the response to their jeers of Professor Fig's demise and Sebastian Sallow's misfortune but only Alfie knew where those words tumble from his lips -- spoken by a goblin long gone:

"Choose your next words wisely."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy screenshots #hogwarts legacy mc #alfie l moon #slytherin #hogwarts #hogwarts oc #hogwarts sixth year #sixth year

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braveclementine · 8 months ago

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Chapter 9

Warnings: 18+ readers only, mentions of nudity

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 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 on Saturday, the day of the Quidditch match and wondered if it would even be worth it just to go.

"We could stay here all day." I murmured sleepily in his ear.

"You know it's the Slytherins' that'll be playing today." He murmured back, just as tired. Last night had been lovely, but also tiring. I felt extremely sore today as well.

"They're going to lose." I mumbled, rolling over and wrapping a blanket around me. It was cold in his room, despite the fact that it was November, he had not turned the heat on.

He seemed to have read where my thoughts were because he asked, "cold?"

"I don't understand how you can enjoy the coldness like this." I muttered, "I mean you're not even in the dungeons anymore!"

I shivered, burrowing deeper into the bed and he pulled me closer to his chest. "Your lips are a bit blue." he said cheerfully and I shuddered from cold and heat as he pressed his warm lips to my cold ones.

"How are your lips to warm?" I complained, "That's not fair."

He chuckled, "It comes to an advantage of mine now, doesn't it?" he pressed them to mine again. Then when we pulled apart, he rolled over on top of me to reach for his wand and he went ahead and lit a fire in the fireplace. "that should do the trick." he murmured.

"Thanks." I whispered, "When do we have to go down?"

"Mmm?" He asked, his head resting on my chest now, breathing softly.

"Nothing." I whispered, caressing his hair, and closed my own eyes to fall back asleep.

I left Severus' office twenty minutes before the match started so that I could go down without alerting that we were arriving together and also because I was starving. I wondered if they'd have spicy chicken wings for breakfast. Highly doubtful.

I sat down at the Hufflepuff next to Rose and Susan. Ernie and Justin came over to sit down in front of us. "So, now are you going to tell us who's going to win?" Ernie asked impatiently.

"Gryffindor." I said, mournfully spooning grape jelly on a piece of toast.

"Wonderful." Ernie said while Justin moaned. "We took bets with some other students."

I rolled my eyes. "You should've asked me before you made the bets."

"He did." Justin said, disgruntled, "At the three broomsticks before..."

We all looked down the table where Leanne was talking to Megan and some other Hufflepuff girls.

I watched Zacharias walking out of the Great Hall and rolled my eyes. "Zacharias is commentating." I said, "That'll be great."

"Yes." Justin said with a roll of his eyes, "You sound totally enthused about it."

"Let's just say he's going to piss the Gryffindors off." I said lightly. "And they'll want us crushed in the next match." I sighed, "How unfortunate."

"We'll beat them." Susan said confidentially.

"Don't jinx us." I said, standing up from the table and we headed down to the Quidditch pitch. Hermione joined us some time down and everyone greeted her quite cordially. She was seething mad and pulled me to the side.

"Harry put the Felix Felicis in Ron's drink!" She exclaimed angrily. "he could be expelled!"

"No he didn't." I said, starting to walk again, "He only wanted Ron to think he did so that Ron would feel lucky."

"Oh." Hermione said, looking abashed.

I shrugged, "It's better than finding out after the match."

"Was it going to be bad?" Hermione was tentatively.

"Well you did say the only reason that Ron saved the goals was because he had drank the potion but then he hadn't drank the potion and well... you know Ron." I said. "He's sensitive."

"I just... I don't understand why he hates me so much right now!" Hermione said, sounding close to tears.

"Because him and Ginny had a row and she brought you into it." I said.

"Why's that my fault?" Hermione asked as we caught up with the group.

"I don't really know." I said. "Because you kissed Viktor Krum or something like that. I think its jealousy."

Hermione glowered in the Gryffindor locker rooms direction. I heard her mutter "idiot." and then headed off to go sit with the Gryffindors.

Trang caught up with us at that point, wearing Ravenclaw colors.

"Hi!" I said brightly, Rose on my shoulders now. "This'll be your first school Quidditch game!"

"Can't be more impressive than the Quidditch World Cup." Trang said, grinning and I noticed she was wearing her Omnioculars around her neck.

"You'd be surprised." I admitted. "Especially since it's Gryffindor vs. Slytherin that's playing today."

I usually sat with the Gryffindors on their side, near the teacher's podium. Now, I was sitting on the Hufflepuff side (for the first time) which gave a very different view of the stadium: a long view rather than wide.

The Gryffindors cheered as the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field, Harry in the front, his Firebolt across his shoulder. Then the Slytherins cheered as their team walked out onto the field. I noticed that Malfoy wasn't there as the seeker.

The two team captains shook hands and I leaned over to Trang and asked, "You never told me if you made it onto the Ravenclaw team."

"Yes I did." Trang said and then frowned, "Didn't I?"

"What position?" I asked curiously.

"Chaser." She said, sounding extremely satisfied.

"Congratulations." I said sincerely as the two teams flew upward.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year." Zacharias started off immediately and I groaned, leaning my head on my hand, "Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patch performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help..."

And putting a confounding charm on the better Keeper always helped too. "Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."

"Wonderful." I muttered under my breath. "Why'd I let him stay on the team?"

Trang giggled and we watched the game progress. Zacharias continued to beat down on Ginny and Ron, wondering if they were only there because Harry liked them. I had the strangest urge to hex Zacharias. Of course, I didn't really like Ron either, what a git, but Ginny was a great person and a wonderful Chaser.

Ginny scored four goals and Ron saved seven goals and Zacharias had to stop berating them. He started on the newest beaters that Harry had on the team now. "Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a beater, they've generally got a bit more muscle-"

Harry shouted something at Coote as he passed by, who grinned and whacked a bludger at the new Slytherin Seeker and the bludger hit it's mark.

"I don't know." Trang muttered in my ear, "It's a bit tame."

I smiled a little bit but said nothing. I could see that as the Quidditch Cup was the only match she'd seen, anything else might look a little tame. I supposed it would've been more exciting if Draco had been on the team. Hitting bludgers at random, innocent people in the crowds and grabbing the ends of people's firebolts. But I supposed he had other things to worry about this year. I supposed my unnecessary comment in the robe shop hadn't helped either.

The Slytherin Seeker came around sometime later, colliding into Harry. I booed with the other Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws but Madam Hooch didn't see it and Harry was zooming after the other seeker.

I noticed that the snitch was flying high above the two seekers and I realized that the Slytherin seeker had seen it. Harry on the other hand, had not. Zacharias felt a need to say this out loud, "And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch! Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't."

Lovely. I noticed even from across the field that Severus had a smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes, looking away from him.

Harry was accelerating after Harper and I watched as he opened his mouth and shouted something at Harper. Harper fumbled his grab, the snitch flew through his fingers and Harper continued upwards, past the Snitch, and Harry grabbed it instead.

He hurtled back towards the ground and the Gryffindor side of the pitch cheered. The rest of the Gryffindor team met Harry down on the ground in a group hug except for Ginny. I watched as she flew straight into the commentator's podium and I grinned. The crowd hooted and laughed, including Slytherins. Ginny's voice could be heard by the magical megaphone, "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry."

I got up with rest of the Hufflepuffs and Trang and left the Quidditch stadium.

"I'm going to go ahead and hang out with Anthony, Terry, and Luna." Trang said brightly, with a wave of her hand, "See you around."

"See ya Trang." I said and went ahead up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. Severus wasn't in yet. I sighed, setting my cloak, gloves, scarf, and boots, putting them near the fireplace and warmed myself by it. I realized I was hungry and I figured I could go down to the kitchen, see Dobby, and get some food.

The door opened and I came face to face with Severus.

"Oh, hello!" I said brightly. "I was just going to get some food, do you want some?"

Severus sighed, closing the door behind him, "Nonsense." He pointed his wand at his desk and a plate of different foods appeared there.

"I thought you couldn't create food?" I asked, frowning and taking a donut and holding it up to the light as though it was a counterfeit bill. "It's in The Five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law. Food, Magical Energy, Love, Life, and Knowledge."

"Correct." Severus said. "But I didn't create it, I simply summoned it from somewhere else in the world."

I grinned, "so a bakery will be missing a load of donuts then."

He rolled his eyes. "Dummy, I summoned it from the Hogwarts kitchen."

I pursed my lips. "Jerk."

He muttered something under his breath that I ignored. He sighed then and said, "You were right though."

"About which thing?" I asked lightly before carefully biting into a vanilla frosted donut with star sprinkles. We served these? I'd certainly never seen them on the breakfast table before except for Halloween.

"Ooooh, you've got a big ego." Severus said, opening up the drapes to let in natural light. "About not going to the Quidditch pitch today."

"Because you lost?" I smirked, putting a hand under my mouth to catch crumbs.

"Because we could've just stayed in bed." Severus said in a dangerous voice.

"Oh." I said lightly. "Well yes, of course, that's a good reason as well."

Severus hung his cloak up next to mine and set his boots next to mine as well. He sat down at his desk, moving the food off onto a chair and started to grade homework.

I ate other things like fruit and meat before he cleared the trays away. Then I curled up in a chair next to his and simply sat there while he graded homework and quizzes. He went through them very fast, many of them had bad grades on them with the occasional O or EE. (A was technically a good grade, but not for me, so I didn't count it).

After a few hours, I started dozing and when I awoke, I was on the bed with a blanket over me though he was still at his desk.

"What time is it?" I asked hoarsely, my throat felt horrible.

"A few hours." Severus said slowly, writing something down on a piece of parchment and then checked a clock. "Three and a half."

"I should go down to dinner." I said softly, sliding out of bed.

He looked at me and opened his mouth and then closed it. "Yes, perhaps you should. I'll get this done before you get back, I promise."

I smiled gently and kissed his cheek. "I'll take my time then."

I walked down to dinner and enjoyed spicy chicken wings and a couple glasses of milk. But I wasn't quite ready to go back upstairs. Perhaps it was the heavy feeling I had from all the food or maybe it was the feeling of separation from the other students.

I walked outside for a moment, standing in the snow but I didn't really feel the cold on my bare feet. Actually, the snow under my feet felt almost warm, in a way. A slushy, gritty, thin, fragile feeling. There was water and mud and grass and slush. The air was cold and it smelled like winter.

I shouldn't be out here, I knew, but I needed some alone time. I looked down and noticed my stomach was poking out a little bit in a round shape. I knew before I would've thought it to be all the food I ate and now...

I found that tears were dripping down my face for no reason at all and quickly wiped them away. I headed back inside the castle and realized that my feet were numb from cold and I quickly hurried up to the office where my love was waiting.

"Your lips are blue." He greeted me, looking up from his desk. "Did you go outside?"

"Oh, yeah, just for a few minutes," I admitted, sitting down before the fire. "Maybe five-ten minutes tops."

"Without shoes or a cloak?" He asked in disbelief. There was the sound of him getting up from the chair. "Why?"

"Just needed a few minutes, that's all." I said. There was some silence, I knew he was standing somewhere behind me but I didn't turn around. I stared into the fire, watching the long red-orange-yellow flames dancing. The logs were crisp brown but they didn't really seem to burn and the fire was hot, sending of waves of heat in small rounds, but not so badly that it was uncomfortable. "I don't... I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to hide... hide the bump. It's five months- almost- and I'm starting to show a bit more than before."

"There's concealment spells." Severus said softly. "Dumbledore already has protocol in place. He believes it would be best if we kept it a secret until our child is actually born."

I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. Our child. It was the first time he had said something like that and I loved it immensely.

He knelt down, putting a hand on my shoulder and said, "Everything's going to be okay you know. We- you're doing everything your supposed to be doing."

"I know." I said softly, reaching up to put a hand over his own. "I know." Then I stood up and asked, "Ready for bed?"

He got to his feet as well and turned off the lights, giving me a small smile. "I'll join you in a moment."

"Okay." I whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek and climbed into bed. I don't know what he did, but I fell asleep before he got back.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖘 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 the next morning, already sitting at his desk, tapping his fingers against the wood in a pattern.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" I asked, sitting up and stretching.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I did." Severus said, sounding distracted.

I got out of bed and got dressed, slipping on my robes and shoes. I went over to the window and looked down at the blinding snow. I wondered if the lake was frozen enough to go ice skating on it and highly doubted it.

"I'm going to go get some breakfast." I said, turning away from the window. Green spots appeared in my visions from the glare.

"Okay." Severus said, getting up from his chair and coming over to kiss my cheek. "See you later."

I headed out of the office, down the hallway, turned to the left, headed down some stairs, turned right and then found my way to the Great Hall.

I sat down at the Hufflepuff table and Trang came over immediately, looking exhausted.

"You look tired." I said, reaching for the grape jelly and a stack of toast.

"I stayed up late doing homework." Trang said, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. She reached for a crumpet.

"That makes sense." I said absentmindedly. "What's your favorite class?"

"Ancient Runes." Trang said, "It's a fascinating class. And translating pages! Well, it's just like a puzzle really. I wonder what sorts of jobs I can get with Ancient Runes."

"Um, curse breaking." I said, trying to remember the job brochures from last year. "I don't really remember, I was only looking at healing and auror training."

"I'd like to be an Auror." Trang said thoughtfully.

"Maybe you could become the Muggle Studies Professor here." I said lightly, carefully tearing off the crust around the toast.

Trang rolled her eyes. "If I was going to teach a subject here, I'd teach Ancient Runes."

I shrugged, spreading jelly on the toast.

"What about you?" Trang asked, buttering her crumpet. "What class would you teach, given the choice?"

"Care of Magical Creatures." I answered immediately.

Trang stared at me, a raised eyebrow.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

Trang shrugged, "Just a surprise, you never were an animal person."

I rolled my eyes. "These aren't animals, they're magical creatures. There is a very specific difference."

"Oh?" Trang asked, raising her eyebrow again, "So your scared of dogs, cats, mice, rats, guinea pigs, geese, ducks, birds in general, but not magical creatures that breathe fire and have poisonous bites?"

"Okay look." I said, a bit annoyed, "I don't like dogs because they jump on you with their claws and they bite you. I don't like cats because they will scratch and bite. Mice and rats are a given fear. Guinea pigs also fall under the biting category, just like rabbits. And I don't like birds because of watching The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock 1963 horror film. That's your fault, by the way, you made me watch that."

"Shouldn't you be scared of rabbits too, with that logic?" Trang asked, smirking now. "They have the ability to bite too."

"Well, the more accurate definition is nip. And I did have a fear at first, but Sushi's a perfect little angel. He's never bitten me once." I said satisfied.

"And you were the one who said she liked horror movies." Trang said, still smirking and put her glasses on again. "Not my fault."

I glared at her, rolled my eyes, and continued to eat my toast. "But I like magical creatures." I said after I finished off my slice of toast.

"Oh yes," Trang said with a roll of her eyes, "because magical creatures won't bite or scratch or even kill you."

I sighed. "Magical Creatures are more predictable. There are rules when it comes to magical creatures. For example: hippogriffs. You bow, keep eye contact. The hippogriff doesn't bow back, you back off. If it does bow back, you approach and you make sure not to insult it. The only reason you'd get hurt around a hippogriff is by ignoring the cultural and magical rules."

Trang snorted, "Fair point but there are some creatures that can't be reasoned with!"

"Like?"

"Dragons, Fire-crabs, dragons, basilisks, dragons, acromantulas, and more dragons." Trang said, picking up a donut hole with each creature she named.

"That's a lot of dragons." I smirked.

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them named at least 10 different types of dragons." Trang recited.

"Alright then." I consented, amused, "But, if you think logically, I'm not going to bring dragons or basilisks or acromantulas into the classroom. So, therefore, I wouldn't have to interact with them, correct?"

"Fair point." Trang consented, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Sure." I said and we got up from the table and went to our respective House common rooms to grab scarfs and hats and met in the entrance hall.

"Lake route or Hagrid route?" Trang asked as we exited the castle doors, meeting a blast of cold wind.

"Lake route." I said. "I'd like to see how frozen the lake is."

"Oh? Is there a fancy way of wizarding ice skating?" Trang asked in an interested voice but the words fell somewhat clumsily from her mouth.

"There's a number of spells that can be done on the feet or skates, if that's what you mean." I replied.

We started our circuit around the large body of water. The wind had died down and was blowing against our backs now, rather than our faces and it was better that way.

We were halfway around the lake when Trang asked a sudden question.

"What do you think about Draco Malfoy?"

I looked at her sparingly. "Like...?"

Trang hesitated and then said, "He's hot."

I choked on my next words and stared at her in amazement. Then I sputtered, "His Dad kidnapped you!"

Trang's flushed and turned her head towards the lake, "Yes, I know. But he's been coming onto me-"

"Of course he is!" I replied angrily. "Haven't you noticed your the person that the Death Eaters take to get to me?"

"So you think he's a Death Eater?" Trang asked, actually sounding disappointed.

"Of course he's a Death Eater." I snorted. "Voldemort made him replace his father."

Trang was silent for another moment and then said, "I wonder what he's doing."

"I don't know." I replied shortly. "Not yet, anyways."

"I wonder when you'll find out." She said.

I already knew, of course, but there was something off about Trang right now. I stopped walking and turned to face her, curiously. She looked at me now, hesitantly and then asked, "Okay, did I upset you? I shouldn't have said anything about how hot he was, should I have?"

I frowned briefly. I knew Draco was having Crabbe and Goyle using the Polyjuice potion a lot, but what about Draco? Was this Draco in front of me or was I turning into Uncle Moody, paranoid about everything? Of course, I thought, I had a good reason to be paranoid.

"No." I said slowly and then started to walk again. I couldn't let this person out of my sight. Trang wouldn't be interested in Draco because she had Oliver. So...

It had definitely been the real Trang at breakfast which meant that when we'd gone to get our winter clothes separately, that must've been when Draco- or another person- had nabbed Trang.

Harry and Ron had stuck Crabbe and Goyle in the broom closet. Where the hell was Trang?

I kept a slow pace outside though, no faster than we had been going and now we were starting around the other side.

"Do you think the lakes cold enough?" Trang asked, sounding curious.

"I don't know." I replied honestly, trying to keep up pretenses. I walked down the slope to the lake, Trang following me. I was self-conscious of the fact that my heart was beating very quickly. If whoever this was, wanted to push me in... if the lake wasn't frozen solid...

Trang pushed ahead, carefully putting one foot on the lake and leaning forward, testing the weight. "It seems solid enough." She said and put both feet on the lake and then jumped. Nothing happened.

She slid out onto the lake and, hesitating, I followed. Okay, maybe I was paranoid. After all, I'd liked multiple boys at the same time... it didn't mean anything at all. I really was becoming just like Uncle Moody.

We ice skated for exactly forty-two minutes which meant, if this wasn't Trang and was someone who had drank Polyjuice Potion, they had five minutes to get back up to the castle. Indeed, Trang was hurrying towards the castle quite fast.

I hurried alongside her and asked, "What's the hurry?"

"I just remembered a homework assignment due tomorrow that is going to take some time to do. Maybe we should go to the library next."

"Sure." I replied nonchalantly. "That sounds like a good idea."

We were now walking up the marble steps. Well, I was walking, she was running. I started to run to and as we reached the door, she said, "We'll go to our common rooms and meet each other in the library?"

She was already moving towards the stairs and I said, "Sure."

I waited for a few seconds as she hurried up the stairs and then, looking around, turned into a cat and hurried after her. She made her way towards what I figured was the Ravenclaw tower and then ducked away into a classroom, I slipped inside, hiding beside a black trash can.

Trang hurried over to a wardrobe and opened it up, bringing out Trang's real body, positioning her at the desk, making it look as though she had fallen asleep there: her arms crossed in front of her, her cheek resting on her arms.

I turned human, the other Trang's back was to me, and I said, "Who are you?"

The fake Trang jumped and turned, holding their hands out cautiously. My wand was pointed at their heart and I had my teeth gritted.

"You weren't supposed to find out." Trang's voice said. "It was just to hang out with you, you weren't going to with the real me."

I wasn't exactly sure who this person was or why I wouldn't have hung out with them. I conjured a patronus and sent it on it's way.

"Where is that going?" Trang's lovely eyes watched the patronus wander out the door.

"No where." I replied, glaring at Trang.

"What gave it away?" Trang asked. When I didn't respond she elaborated, "I mean, how did you know I wasn't the real Trang?"

"When you started to talk about Draco." I replied. "Trang would never have fallen in love with someone like him, no matter how hot he is."

Trang snorted, "Love? You're a bit naïve, don't you think? I never said I was in love, I simply said that he was hot and there is a legitimate difference."

"Elizabeth?" Professor Snape's voice came from behind me, "You sent for me?" And then he took in the scene of the two Trang's and said in a more curt voice, "I see."

He was silent and then strode towards the standing Trang and took her by the arm and led her out of the room.

"But-" I complained, "I want to know-"

He was gone, striding off down the hallway with Trang's arm in his grip. I turned to the sitting Trang and hurried over. "Enervate."

She stirred and I said, "Afternoon Trang."

She looked up at me sleepily and then looked around at the classroom and asked, "How in the world did I get in here?"

"You don't remember?"

Trang frowned, looking around at the classroom and then stood up. "Well... no. I remember breakfast, we were going to go on a walk so I came up to the Ravenclaw Tower and that's the last thing I remember..."

"Yes." I replied coolly. "someone stunned you and became you. Come on."

She followed me down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. I had a good idea of who had been using the Polyjuice Potion now and wanted to confirm it.

As we neared the office, the door opened and an angry Severus Snape and an abashed Blaise Zabini stepped out of the office.

Blaise flushed, looking at both Trang and me. "Er- I'm sorry."

I shook my head, "I would've hung out with you if you wanted," I started and realized that it was true, "you didn't have to stun my friend and impersonate her."

He gave a curt nod, his cheeks flushed, and then hurried off towards the staircase that led for the dungeons.

"Well." Trang said awkwardly, unable to meet Professor Snape's eyes and looked at me instead. "I'm sure you two have things to umm, talk about you know?" She winked at me and I groaned.

"You're not supposed to know!" I said exasperated, glancing at Severus, who's face was red.

"Oh!" Trang asked, her face red now too, "Sorry!" She hurried away too and I turned to face Severus, who jerked his head towards his office door, marching inside. I followed inside, closing the door behind me.

We went up to his office and he shut the door behind us and went to sit down on the bed. I remained standing, hesitant.

"Come here." Severus sighed and I went, sitting down next to him.

"I should've told you that Trang knew." I muttered, "Sorry about that."

"Does anyone else know?" Severus asked, "Besides Dumbledore and your father."

"Harry." I muttered, "But I think you might've already have known that from Occlumency."

"Right." Severus said.

"Umm, Trang also knows about... about the baby." I said, sucking in my cheeks. "I confide everything with her."

Severus nodded, "she's your best friend, I understand."

"Why did... was it really because Blaise wanted to hang out with me?" I asked skeptically, "It seems like a bit of a stretch, doesn't it?"

"He's a Slytherin, Elizabeth." Severus said, sounding tense and bored at the same time. "How could he possibly hang out with you like a friend? Not when half the students' parents are Death Eaters. Not when he has a reputation to uphold. He can't be friendly with Potter's possible, rumored sister and even if that rumor doesn't turn out to be true, she's still a target of the Dark Lord and the daughter of a werewolf. Those are all big no nos. And yet, he does want to hang out with you and impersonating your best friend is the only way he's going to accomplish that."

"It's stupid!" I exclaimed. "I mean, obviously, I don't like him the way that I like you, but he's a nice boy, I think. I hate Slytherins with a passion but he wouldn't be the worst friend I've ever had."

Severus sighed, "All Slytherins?"

"You were sorted into the wrong house." I said. "You were supposed to be a Gryffindor."

Severus glared at me, "No, I wasn't."

"The Sorting Hat has only made seven sorting mistakes in it's entire career." I explained, "You, are one of them."

"Who are the other six?" Severus asked, looking a bit disturbed from this information.

"Don't know." I replied cheerfully, standing up to take off my cloak, gloves, scarf, and boots. "but I have guesses."

"Who?" He asked again.

"Well, I think Harry because he was supposed to be in Slytherin. Then there was Ron who was supposed to be in Hufflepuff, Hermione who was supposed to be in Ravenclaw, and then I was supposed to be in Gryffindor. But of course, I don't know if I should be counted, considering my position in this world. I would also guess that Peter Pettigrew would have been a sorting mistake- he should've been in Slytherin I think."

Severus was glowering now, "Potter? In Slytherin?"

I shrugged, "Doubt all you want Sev. I always know what I'm talking about. Hell, even Dumbledore thinks we sort to young. People aren't developed at that age, they- we don't know who we are at eleven and neither does the Sorting Hat."

Severus was quiet, pacing the room now.

I frowned, peering at him curiously and then asked, "Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine Elizabeth, sorry." Severus said, "But when you believe something your whole life, it's hard to change that perception."

I shrugged, "Well I mean, it's quite alright you know. There are anomalies in every house."

For some reason, Severus was very amused by this comment though he wouldn't tell me why.

I went back out for lunch and stayed in the library till dinner. After dinner, I returned to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. Severus was still working at the desk, his quill flying across the paper, circling and underlining things.

I looked over his shoulder briefly. He tossed his quill into the ink well, turning the chair around to face me, and pulled me onto his lap.

I pressed my lips to his, closing my eyes, a blush creeping up my cheeks. His lips moved in a furious, careful, dangerous, loving way. Familiar and different at the same time. His hand behind my head, fingers tangled in my hair. The other arm wrapped around my hips, tight- protective almost.

We slowly shifted to the bed, the sheets and blankets a crumpled mess as our two bodies moved together fast and slow, rolling over carefully before settling down, our bodies tangled together.

Severus pulled the sheets around me as our breathing slowed. His eyes were shining, his hair was swept back from his face. I reached out, holding a lock of hair in my hand. I never understood the belief that his hair was oily. No, it was silky, soft, beautiful.

I pressed my lips to his chest, biting. His left arm kept me on my side, curled up next to him, my head on his chest. His lips were pressed against the top of my hair.

I lay awake for a long time, after Severus had fallen asleep, thinking. Though I had told Trang that I wanted to come up with a baby name on the spot, I kept turning names over in my head.

There were so many names out there that would fit my child. I wasn't sure if it was a boy or a girl, of course (I'd told Severus it was going to be a surprise) but I couldn't help thinking the names, over and over.

My favorite boy name was Frederick James Snape. Of course, I highly doubted that Severus would be keen to have any of our children have James as a first or middle name. But I liked the sound of it regardless.

Then of course, there was naming the baby boy after Sirius or Uncle Moody or Dad or Severus or even Cedric.

Girl names were a bit easier. Lily kept popping up for one thing but I wasn't sure how much I liked that idea. After all, Severus had originally been in love with my mother and whenever I thought of that, I always had to think of the idea that perhaps Severus only loved me because I was Lily's daughter- because we looked alike. If I named my daughter Lily. . . well, I didn't know.

I liked the name Trang, I really did, but I wasn't sure I wanted to name my daughter that name. Of course, I really liked the name Rebecca and also Naomi.

I snuggled deeper into Severus' chest. I wondered what his mother's name had been. I wondered how pretty it was and if I could incorporate it as a middle name.

I wrapped the blanket tighter around me, feeling a draft coming from under the door, though the fireplace was lit.

I closed my eyes. Cedric was a good name. Yes, yes it was.

⬅️➡️

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voldemorts-tap-shoes · 2 years ago

Text

Second submission for Era #1 of @cruelsummer-ficfest! This is a sequel to @adenei ‘s Should’ve Said No, so check that out if you haven’t already!

Mastermind

The ticking of the clock is endless as Ron sits on the sofa in front of the fireplace in Gryffindor’s common room. Not even his chess set can distract him anymore. It’s been hours, or so it seems, and Hermione’s still not back from the party.

The party they were supposed to attend together. Before he’d fucked it all up.

He’d known kissing Lavender was a bad idea from the get go, but he was too mad at the thought of Hermione snogging anyone else to care what the repercussions would be. Blind rage fueled his actions, and suddenly he was ensnared in a relationship with a girl he wasn’t remotely interested in.

He supposes that was the first time life has shown him a lot can change in one evening. Tonight is the second. Lavender is no longer his girlfriend. She made sure of that after Hermione’s scene earlier. Not that Ron cares. If anything, he’s happy to be rid of Lavender Brown, even if that means his ego has been bruised by a public dumping.

At least now he can confront Hermione in peace. And he won’t feel guilty if his eyes linger on her a little too long.

Ron never understood how the simple touch of a hand could send shockwaves throughout his entire body, making for some awkward situations if he wasn’t wearing robes or sitting without a book handy to conceal his lap. But after seeing Hermione emerge from the girls’ dorm in a stunner of a dress, it all clicked into place. He’d tried to play off his attraction as typical teenage boy stuff. When you’re best friends with a girl, you’re bound to feel something. Right?

After seeing her in that tight dress, showing off more skin than he thinks he’s ever seen, there’s no doubt in his mind he wants her. As more than just a friend.

Sure, she snogged Viktor, and he could still be pissed about her keeping that from him. And now he’d snogged Lavender, so they’re even. Did it have to come to that? No, probably not.

But maybe if Hermione had intended for tonight to be a date, then she should have made that clear from the start. It was unfair for her to accuse him of misinterpreting the meaning when she’d asked in the middle of a class. Even Harry couldn’t oppose that; it sounded like a pity invite. If there was another reason she wanted him to go other than for the sake of including him, she should have specified that.

‘But she did, you wanker.’

‘Sure, she did tonight. A lot of good that’s done, isn’t it?’

Ron shakes his head. He doesn’t need to engage in imaginary conversations. He needs to focus. Tossing his head back on the sofa, he closes his eyes and strategizes for the battle ahead. Every move needs to be carefully calculated. He needs to have a plan or he’ll fail for sure, losing his chance to make things right.

Just then, he hears the portrait hole creak open, the Fat Lady slurring and muttering something about curfews and how teachers shouldn’t be hosting soirees outside of strictly set hours.

If Ron wasn’t so annoyed with Hermione’s masterful scheme, he’d crack some joke about the Fat Lady just wanting to get drunk in peace, but he keeps his focus on the task at hand. Seconds later, Hermione appears in the common room, not bothering to look around as she makes a bee line for the stairs.

“Oi!”

Smooth, Ron.

He has no idea if that’s going to do anything to stop her, but his mind has gone blank. All because of that damn maroon dress and the way her hips sway—

“Yes?”

Ron can barely believe she stopped, let alone is waiting for him to respond. He needs to say something. She could disappear up to her dorm any moment, yet he can’t seem to arrange his thoughts as fast as he’d like.

“I—” He pauses, causing Hermione to huff and spin on her heel, continuing her trek toward the stairs, just as he’d feared.

Ron lunges forward, his arm outstretched as he latches on to her hand and pulls her to him.

“Ron, what are you—”

“We need to talk.”

She tugs her hand away but doesn’t make any other moves. It’s almost as if she’s ready for a fight. “Oh, do we? Does your girlfriend know you’re down here?”

“Don’t have one.” Maybe he should have kept her guessing a little longer, but something compels him to be open and honest for once.

With a scoff, Hermione crosses her arms in front of her chest. The stance accentuates her cleavage and Ron may spontaneously combust if he doesn’t look away.

Fucking hell. Does she even know what she’s doing?

“Please don’t lie to me, Ron. I’d rather suffer the silent treatment than be sheltered from the truth.”

“It is the truth! She dumped me after you told me I needed to go with you tonight then stood me up!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “I’d only be standing you up if you actually wanted to go. Clearly, you didn’t. Why would you when you could be snogging someone else’s face off?”

Merlin, she is so infuriating. “You think I’d rather be snogging Lav? Are you mental?”

“Am I? Sorry, but isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the last month?”

“Yeah, only because you snogged Viktor Krum!”

Even though the information slips out, it catches Hermione off-guard. Her eyes widen and eyebrows shoot toward the sky, lips parting ever so slightly that it has him thinking how easily he could just capture them with his own.

“I—excuse me?” And then, she somehow puts the pieces together. He’s seen that face before. It’s the same one she makes when she’s cracked a tough Runes code. “Do not tell me that the only reason you subsequently snogged and then dated Lavender was because Viktor kissed me once after the Yule Ball. Two years ago! Is that the reason you didn’t speak to me for two weeks?”

Oh, fuck.

“It wasn’t just because you snogged him!”

“Kissed.”

Of course, Hermione Granger would choose to argue the word itself and not the action. “What? Oh, bloody hell, does that even matter?”

“Yes, it does! Snogging is what you’ve been doing for a month now, in case you haven’t noticed. You two have been sucking each other’s faces off every second you get! At least I kept my affairs private and haven’t flaunted anything in your face. Not that it was anything worth flaunting. It was a goodnight peck on the lips that I wasn’t expecting nor did I want. And—”

White hot rage blinds Ron, severing his train of thought from their previous argument so he can only focus on the fact that she didn’t want it.

“Don’t tell me he fucking kissed you without permission,” he growls.

“Oh, that’s your takeaway from all of this?”

“Hermione…”

“It’s fine, Ron. He took the hint. No harm was done. Now, can we please focus on why you ruined everything?”

That snaps him out of it. “I ruined everything?”

“Yes. You stopped talking to me. You chose to go out with Lavender after committing to me. All because of something I did when I was fifteen. Honestly…”

“Committing—Hermione, what the fuck? You asked me in the middle of Herbology! You didn’t even specify that it was a date!”

Her face turns the color of her dress and he catches the tiniest stamp of her foot. “I shouldn’t have had to! I thought—after all summer—Merlin’s balls, Ron, you really are thick, aren’t you?”

Jaw dropping, Ron gapes at her. “Did you just—”

He has no words. His brain is broken. Hermione just said Merlin’s balls. Ron has never seen her this flustered before. He catches the slightest pout on her bottom lip and his primal instincts scream at him to pull her close and kiss it away, but he can’t. He won’t. Not yet.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, she finds her words and conveys her frustration as succinctly as possible. “Let me spell it out for you since earlier it wasn't clear enough to permeate your thick skull. Yes, I fancy you. Yes, I wanted you to be my date for the party tonight. And yes, I would have wanted that party to end in a kiss and quite possibly even a relationship. Instead, you stopped speaking to me, snogged my dormmate, and cast me—your best friend—to the curb.

“Well, guess what? Even if you didn’t feel the same way about me, I wasn’t going to lose my best friend. So, if forcing your hand and making you think you still needed to be my ‘plus one’ was the only way to get you to talk to me, then that’s what I did. Bonus points to me for getting Lav to dump you though. Who knew making a scene and having you think I was going to the party alone would work out this well for me?”

The slyest of smiles creeps wider on her lips as she divulges her diabolical plan, and Ron is stunned. Was there far more at stake here than he’d realized? Was he truly in jeopardy of losing her? And was this not just another row they’d get over eventually and at some point go back to normal?

Or was the whole purpose because she doesn’t want to go back to normal? Does he want to go back to normal? What is normal anyway? Just friends? Fuck that.

Hermione has made it perfectly clear what she wants and finally, Ron takes the hint. He doesn’t wait another second as he reaches forward, wraps his long, lanky arm around her midsection and pulls her close. When she tilts her head up to look at him, they’re nose to nose. Her eyes flicker to his lips and that’s all the confirmation he needs.

His head dips down and he captures her lips with his. The sweet and spicy taste of spearmint invades his senses. It’s so much better than the sticky sweet bubble gum flavor Lavender always had to have plastered to her lips. He should have known kissing Hermione would be so much better than he ever expected.

Her hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck. His slip down to the small of her back, pulling her even closer than she was before, so that their bodies are pressed close. Ron never wants this feeling to end, but it does. Far too soon.

As Hermione backs away, he swears he hears her mutter “Checkmate” under her breath.

“Sorry?” he asks.

“Nothing.” But the smirk on her face tells a different story.

“No, you just said checkmate. Why?”

She glances at the fireplace and plays with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck. The sensation makes his knees go weak. He could get used to this. Fuck, he’s already used to this.

“I couldn’t lose. What if I told you none of it was accidental? The first night I saw you with her, I knew nothing was going to stop me. I laid all of the groundwork, and tonight, just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line.”

Despite the sincerity as she explains her entire plan, Ron bursts into laughter. He can’t help it. None of this should have surprised him at all, especially given her track record. From taking every possible class third year, to starting S.P.E.W. and spearheading Dumbledore’s Army. Even locking Rita Skeeter in a jar as a beetle. Nothing stops Hermione Granger from serving justice in her own way, and this is no different.

He can’t even be mad.

“Want to know a secret?” she whispers, bringing him back to the present.

“Always.”

She leans up on her tiptoes and murmurs in his ear. “I never even went to the party. I hid in the library.”

Ron simply gapes at her in disbelief. “You went to the library in that dress? You’re mental.”

If only he’d known, he would have sought her out. Perhaps they could have settled this hours sooner and spent all that time in between making up. Of course, none of that really matters now.

Planting a soft peck on his lips, she smiles. “I told you, I’m a mastermind. And now you’re mine.”

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #romione fanfiction #fanfic #cruel summer fic fest #sixth year

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