#sorry my wizard elf doesn’t have a six pack

[goodgirlgonebard]

I always thought my first bad ao3 comment would be about how I write ascended astarion but no it was about *checks notes* my mage being portrayed as physically weak ?

[onetwosevensquad]

Dungeons and Dragons and... Love?: Dungeon Master

Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: the kind Dungeon Master who helps guide your team through your campaign also becomes your math tutor.

Warnings: none??

Rose: sorry this literally took forever to write. Hope your all still interested in this mini series. Next member is Renjun.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

———

Why were you here again?

Oh right, cause you’re a giant nerd who needs an outlet.

The poster had caught your eye when you were headed to lunch one day. It was a beige poster with a 20 sided dice in the middle. That was what got your attention.

You had played Dungeons and Dragons with some of your friends before. It has been a few months since your last campaign and you didn’t know when the next one would start. So, in fear of not being able to escape to a fantasy world, you decided to check it out.

It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. School had ended 15 minutes ago, the hours ticking by slowly. You now stood outside of the AP Government classroom where Mr. Jung taught.

The poster, you remembered, said that Mr. Jung would oversee the club. He was your favorite teacher because he was funny and the class was enjoyable.

Finally, you slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. In the middle of the room, a few desks had been pushed together to create a large table.

Sitting around the table were seven boys who were all staring at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, waiting for literally anyone to say something.

“Is this the d&d club?” You finally spoke.

“Y-yes,” the only boy who was standing said. You recognized him as Mark Lee. The cute, smart boy from calculus. “Yes, uh, grab a seat.”

You nodded and dragged a chair over to the only empty spot at the table. It was right next to Chenle, the loud basketball player you shared chemistry with.

“Well I’m pretty sure that we all know each other,” Mark said clearing his throat. “I’m not gonna make us do ice breakers cause literally no one likes those.”

“I do!” Haechan, the class clown that you also shared chemistry with.

“Only you,” Jeno, the star basketball player and probably the last person you expected here, commented. Haechan pouted and stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

“Anyway,” Mark said. “It’s my fist time DMing, but I have played before. Just so I know, who here has played before?”

You, along with Jisung, the quiet kid from history, Haechan, and Renjun, the kid from math who doesn’t do math but draws, raised your hands. Mark seemed to relax a bit when he saw there were at least a few experienced players.

“Well I guess this first meeting will be going over rules and how to play, then next time we’ll do character sheets,” Mark said.

———

It was now the third session and the first one of the start of you campaign. Last time, everyone made their characters, the atmosphere becoming less tense as time went on.

You made your character an Elf Wizard, something you’ve never played before. Everyone else had their own unique character combos, having fun coming up with the most ridiculous names for them.

Today, the party was slightly buzzing with excitement to finally start their campaign. You all gathered around the table giving character introductions, ready to get this show on the road.

Three hours, several rolls for initiative, and Haechan’s character almost dying later, Mr. Jung had to finally kick you all out of the building. The sun had already set and he was letting you way past what was allowed.

You realized how late it actually was and scrambled to get your stuff. You said a quick goodbye to the boys and Mr. Jung and sped off to get home before your parents killed you.

You get a ways down the hall when you heard someone running behind you.

“Y/n, wait up!” You turned to see Mark jogging to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you, breathing slightly harder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said back, smiling at the cute boy. You’ve never really had a full conversation with Mark. He’s quiet and, honestly, talking to someone attractive was a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.

“C-can I have your number?” He said. Your eyes went wide and as did his when he realized what that sounded like. “So that I can add you to the group chat! Just in case anyone can’t make it or we cancel.”

“Yea, sure,” you said, slightly disappointed. You heard Mark exhale probably in relief that his save worked. You handed him your phone with your number displayed on the screen and he quickly put it in his.

“Thanks,” Mark said, handing you back your phone. You both stood there in the most suffocatingly awkward silence ever.

“Well bye,” you said turning to leave.

“Oh! Yea, uh, bye,” Mark said waving slightly. He turned back towards Mr. Jung’s room and you saw the other six boys crowded around. They were all giggling as Mark shoved that back into the room.

———

Six sessions and three weeks later, any morsel of awkwardness was gone. It was like you have known these seven boys your whole life.

The group chat blew up your phone with memes from that days session but didn’t you mind? No. Though sometimes at ungodly hours in the mornings, you still enjoyed the content.

On this particular day, you weren’t going to be able to join the session. Your calculus teacher was making you stay after school and retake a test that you failed miserably. You felt bad when you hand to text the group.

You: I can’t make it today

Haechan☀️: whyyyyyyy

You: I failed a calc test

You: I have to retake it

Lele🐬: thats stupid

Sungie: good luck Y/n

Injunie: yea gl

You: thanks boys

Marker: hey if you need any help studying for calc, I’d be happy to

jeNO: oh?

You: yea I’d like that, thanks

Minnie: ann I oop-

You laughed at Jaemin’s comment as you made your way to your calculus teachers classroom.

———

Considering the second time you took the test you barely past by the seat of your pants, you took Mark up on his offer to tutor you.

Today was the first day Mark was going to tutor you in the library. You walked in and saw him already set up at one of the tables in the very back.

“Hey,” you whispered. He smiled at you as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said back. “Ready to get started?”

After about an hour and a half of Mark explaining different theorems to you, you were finally starting to get it. Whenever you asked a question, Mark would take the time to explain it to you carefully, making sure you got it along the way.

When he would give you a problem to solve, and you got it right, both of you would get excited, annoying the librarian. She ended up shushing you more than once.

“Hey, you hungry?” Mark asked.

“Not really,” you said. As if on cue, your stomach slightly growled, making Mark laugh. You looked down at your stomach, a pout on your face. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Mark said between giggles. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You got your things and headed out of the library with Mark to get food.

———

For the next three weeks, this became your tradition. On the days the D&D club wasn’t meeting, you and Mark would study calculus in the library for about two hours, and then go get food. It always felt like a lot less time with Mark, him always making it enjoyable.

Today, you had a study session with Mark. As you neared the library, you noticed him standing outside the doors on his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“I know,” Mark said putting his phone away. “But you need a break.”

“Mark-“ you whined.

“No,” he said. “I think that you’re ready. You’ve made a lot of progress over the last couple weeks. Besides, they say you shouldn’t study the night before a test.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” you said crossing your arms.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Mark said waving it off. “But, I do know that you’ve worked hard and whatever grade you get, I’m proud of you.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up at Mark’s words. You bit back a smile as he continued.

“So tonight we are not studying,” Mark said grabbing your hand and leading you away from the library. “We are going to the basketball game with the others to cheer on Chenle and Jeno.”

You didn’t protest as Mark led you down to the packed gym and over to where the rest of the boys were sat, waiting for the game to start.

———

After the game where your boys won, the party went out for dinner. Afterwards, Mark drove you home, the two of you talking about the game, D&D, or literally anything.

When Mark pulled into your driveway, he insisted on walking you to your steps. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Hey,” Mark said when you got to your front door. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” He said. You nodded giving him a smile that he returned. “Good night.”

“Night,” you called after him as he went to his car.

———

At the end of the day, your calculus teacher had finished grading the tests. She told everyone to come pick them up before they left school.

When she handed your test to you, she had a big smile on her face. She made a comment about how nicely you did and how much you improved. When you finally saw the grade, you nearly passed out.

You practically ran to Mr. Jung’s room. D&D was today and you wanted to show Mark you grade. You arrived at his classroom, bouncing into the room.

“Well someone looks happy,” Jaemin commented.

“Did something mean happen?” Jisung asked. You stuck your tongue out at the younger boy making everyone laugh.

You made you way to Mark at the head of the table, him watching you with a smile. When you reached him, you slapped the paper with a big 90% scribbled at the top down in front of him.

“All thanks to you,” you said as he continued to stare at the paper.

“I told you so,” Mark said standing up. He caught you by surprise when he gave you a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Ugh, just date already,” Haechan commented from his chair. You and Mark pulled apart making a face at the boy, but avoiding each other’s eyes.

It’s not that you were entirely opposed to dating Mark. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way. And he didn’t. Right?

———

You and Mark continued your study sessions even after you proved you didn’t need to. You both agreed that it was to benefit both of you and not just an excuse to hang out.

One day, while walking out of calculus with Renjun, the boy made a comment that rocked your world.

“He likes you, ya know,” Renjun said.

“W-what,” you sputtered turning to him.

“Mark, he likes you,” He clarified. “I know like bro code, I’m not supposed to tell you or whatever, but I see the way you two look at each other. We all do. You should ask him out. He’d say yes.”

You stopped dead in your tracks thinking for a second. On one hand, this plan that you were formulating could embarrass you. On the other, you could get a date with your dungeon master / calculus tutor / crush.

“Y/n?” Renjun said turning to you. You quickly turned on your heel and made a mad dash for Mark’s locker. “Y/n!”

———

As you speed walked to Mark, you saw him in the distance talking to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark spotted you coming to him and waved at you.

“Hey, Y/n what’s-“

“Do you want to go an a date with me?” You said quickly.

“W-what?” Mark said.

“Jeno, I think that’s our cue,” Jaemin said dragging Jeno away.

“Do you want to go in a date with me?” You asked again, slower this time. Mark looked at you wide eyed, like a dear in headlights.

“A-a date?” He asked. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to shake. “Wow.”

“Wow?” You asked.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just never thought you’d ask and I’d have to do it,” Mark said. “But yes, I’d love to go on a date.”

“Oh thank god,” you said leaning against the lockers. Mark laughed at your dramatic reaction. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned you around to walk to lunch. As you turned, you and Mark stopped and saw the six other members of your party standing there amused.

“God, finally,” Haechan said.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle said.

As the eight of you walked to lunch, the boys continued to tease you and Mark. But when you looked up at him with his arm still around your shoulder, the teasing didn’t matter when Mark smiled at you.

———

[phcking-detective]

FOUND

Find Familiar: ch 1

Rating: E

Summary: Nines cast the spell Find Familiar, but instead of an animal, they accidentally summoned a werewolf. Gavin is just happy to have finally found his mate and start pack bonding with the half-elf wizard. His best idea for a fun bonding activity? Touching his dick of course!

***

Gavin wakes up with a warm, breathing body pressed against his own, and it's all he ever wanted.

Then reality seeps in like cold rain and he realizes it's just the one person, not a dog pile, because he doesn't have a pack. Only a wizard who maybe sort of magically owns him now.

So that's a great start to the morning.

He gets a stew started like he promised, once he finds some potatoes and carrots, one lonely haunch of meat in an icebox, and no spices beyond salt. There aren't many places to look, since the whole room is five, maybe six hundred square feet.

Gods. Gavin's a lone wolf living half-feral without a tent or even a fire half the time, and he still thinks this is pathetic.

He knows better than to touch any of the books scattered around—fucking wizards—so he doesn't try to clean anything while he waits for his new … boss? Alpha?? person, to wake up.

(He does risk moving a stack of papers to sit in front of the black leather collar on the desk. Not hidden. Just. Out of sight.)

"No celery?" the wizard asks.

Gavin bites down on a flinch and a few choice swears. Sweet Selûne shift him. Who the fuck goes from asleep to awake completely silent like that?

"No," he growls.

Nines blinks themself more awake. "Is your negative an agreement to my question or simply a negative?"

"Baby, I have no idea what the fuck you mean, but there's not any celery."

"Oh. Thank you."

The conversation ends there when he dishes out a bowl of stew, that Nines eats at their desk, one agonizingly slow bite at a time, almost as an afterthought as they work on creating papers and papers of writing.

Since the wizard is so absorbed in their scribbles they can barely notice food, Gavin strips down and takes a bath. The water runs hot straight out of the faucet, even without any signs of pipes. Sinking into a whole tub of it feels goddamn luxurious.

He's half-shifted before he even realizes, but Nines probably wouldn't notice he got out and swung his dick around like a propeller, so he doesn't force himself back. His hybrid form always feels better anyway, the best of both animals, with human hands and wolf senses, still able to stand and walk upright but with stronger muscles and thicker protective body hair.

He's still sunk down and amusing himself by blowing bubbles in the water with his near-snout when Nines finally surfaces for air on their own side of the tower.

"Gav—oh."

They turn around and blink at him. Gavin hunkers down lower in the water and prepares to force himself back, but even without actively poking the bond, he can tell there isn't any fear or revulsion from the wizard. He still pulls his snout of out the water and scents the air just to check, but … nothing.

"Good. Yes. Feel free to utilize any of the …" Nines pauses, stuck on the words. "Accommodations. Can you read?"

It's probably a fair question—especially since the answer is barely—but Gavin still hauls himself out of the bathtub and onto the sand pit so Nines will have to look at him. All the scars, the body hair almost thick enough to be a pelt, the way his bone structure is clearly halfway between one form and the other right now.

But instead of making the wizard flinch away and stop asking questions, Nines just grabs a different notebook and begins sketching him.

"Why?" Gavin growls out.

He can still speak, but just like his amount of literacy, the amount is barely. With lots of effort.

"Hmm?"

Nines looks up. Sort of. They lift their head at least, but their eyes stay focused down on their notebook, reluctantly dragged up at the very last second.

"Mm? Oh. Yes, here is your contract," they say.

They place the small stack of papers they'd written onto the dining table in the center of the room, then the two of them meet in the middle, each awkwardly taking a seat across from each other at the table, then staring at each other even more awkwardly.

"That is my brother's seat," Nines says.

Gavin raises an eyebrow but doesn't move his ass out of it. At least he put pants on before sitting down.

"I have never had another visitor," the wizard continues. "So. That has always been …"

They trail off, then grab their notebook and begin reading from it.

"My name is Nines. I am a wizard. I am thirty-two year half-elf. I do not have a gender. I use they-them pronouns. Pause for—"

They stop abruptly and look back up at him.

"… Gavin," he says. "I'm a fighter, thirty-six, werewolf. Born, not turned, so we don't really keep track of any races. You're either a wolf or you're not. Probably human though. Uh, he-him."

If they don't bother with human binary genders, maybe they'd understand just … switching genders? He thinks about it while Nines writes down what he'd said, like anything he says is actually important enough to be recorded.

Maybe he should let them get a little more attached to him before he tells them about the other crazy, evil wizard with a claim on him—and all the transformations they'd done on his body.

"Does your entire pack consist of born lycanthropes?" they ask, drawing him back into the conversation.

"Can just say wolves," Gavin grumbles. "And yeah. Haven't taken in a stray for a while."

No one does. That's why he's still—ugh, stop it. Fucking feeling sorry for himself.

"Is there a significant cultural difference between born and turned … wolves?"

Gavin stares at the wizard. Significant cultural difference, Selûne shift and collar him.

"Turned wolves don't have a pack," he finally says. "No one to share the mental load—most of the poor fuckers don't even know what's happening until they're already shifted and scared and starving. They've got just enough instinct to go back home, and then the screaming and running starts …"

He assumes he doesn't have to finish it from there. A hungry wolf sees something run, and they think prey, not child.

"I apologize if I ask simple questions," Nines states while still writing. "But I have never had the opportunity to meet a wolf in person, and so my knowledge is likely biased and incorrect. Is a coastal environment a suitable habitat for you?"

Gavin shrugs. "Sure. You gonna let me run around outside at some point?"

"Yes, of course. You may come and go as you please," Nines says. "How much land will your pack need? I do own the surrounding—"

His pack? Gavin stares at Nines as they ramble on about this land they own and how it's too rocky to support farming but has access to a cove, and the ensuing treaty with the local pod of merfolk, and—

And his pack. He has no idea what game the wizard is playing, but he never imagined it would include letting him "come and go as you please" and providing land for his—

"I don't have a pack," he blurts out.

Nines stops and blinks at him.

"Got kicked out."

He doesn't explain. It's impossible to explain just one thing, because it's all tangled together, in his mind, the words stuck in his throat. Refusing his pack's Alpha, bargaining to have his body changed and transformed, his womb scooped out so he could never be bred, never ever—

And where exactly that got him. They sit together in silence for a long, horrible moment.

"No one has need of a ninth child," Nines finally says.

"You really call yourself that?" Gavin asks in return, for lack of anything less dick-ish to say.

"Yes." Nines looks at him without any self-pity and factually adds, "It states all that most need to know. They do not need me, and I do not need them."

Gavin nods. "Fuck 'em."

"Yes. Well. I—" Nines stops and abruptly pushes the small pile of paperwork closer to his side of the table. "Here is your contract. It details what I … do need. And, expectations. I suppose the fifth clause is no longer necessary, unless you intend to create your own."

"My own … pack?" Gavin asks slowly.

"Yes."

He snorts. "I'm not going to run around and start turning people."

"Yes, that is included in the clause," Nines says. "Subsection A. Not to offend, but I thought it best to lay out a certain number of precautions first. B notes that you will be beholden to all the same laws as any other citizen, and C states you will make adequate arrangements for the full moon with myself or Knight Commander Anderson."

Gavin pulls a face at the rank. That shit's almost definitely a paladin. No sense of humor, holier than thou, and allergic to critical thinking. Just because you pledged allegiance to a deity society deemed "Good" doesn't actually mean literally everything you do is always going to be right or kind or morally just.

"He is also a lycan—" Nines stops and corrects, "A turned wolf, you called it? If expecting the two of you to … have commonalities … is unreasonable, then the subsection can be adjusted accordingly. The point is merely that you arrange for a safe and secure location each month."

"Yeah, we're not going to sniff each other's butts and be best friends," Gavin tells him. "It's probably how you feel about sorcerers and warlocks. Magic just looks like magic to me, but—yeah."

He stops when he sees Nines's face collapse into itself in the purest form of affronted disgust he's ever seen. This time, he can't stop a chuckle before it slips out.

"I can just stay here though?" he asks.

Nines unfurls their face enough to nod. "Yes. My power may be my own, achieved through my own studies, but I was sent to the same monastery as my twin. I acknowledge you have been sent by my patron deity, and I will fulfill my responsibilities to you thusly."

Gavin's eyebrows shoot up. "You're religious?"

"I worship Selûne," Nines answers.

Gavin stares at the wizard.

"Children born under the full moon often have enhanced magical ability," they explain. "She is also the goddess of navigation, quests, and all who work by night. It was the battle with her own twin that caused the formation of Mystral, the goddess of all magic. Many arcane users still worship her as such."

"And werewolves," Gavin says as how this shit all happened clicks into place.

"Your duties outlined in the contract." Nines stops and clears their throat. "Every power has a price, and mine was enacted at my birth. I have always needed certain accommodations. I realize now a mere animal would not be enough to serve as my familiar, yet a person has never been summoned before. A familiar that is both animal and person, however …"

Gavin nods at the stack of papers. "So am I your familiar or your employee?"

"Well, both," Nines answers. "You are magically bound to me, but you obviously are not a simple animal. I have made adjustments due to these extenuating circumstances, but this is a standard contract for all minions, assistants, and others employed by wizards."

He snorts. "Do I have a union?"

"Yes, subsection E, although you will need to opt-in," Nines replies, very sincerely.

Gavin taps the top paper to make a point when he asks his next question, and the paper suddenly yells the word "HEREFORE" at him.

"Oh, my apologies." Nines takes the stack from him and scribbles a few marks in the top corner. "There, the volume should be properly adjusted."

Gavin cautiously slides the papers back over, being careful to only touch the sides of the stack. He takes the first page off the top and pokes his name, one of the few words he recognizes.

"Gavin," the paper announces.

"I have paperwork I must complete to officially register you as both my familiar and my new minion," Nines tells him. "I trust you can be left to your own devices to review our contract?"

"Yeah," Gavin says.

"Very good."

Nines gets up and returns to their desk. Still no collar, only … this contract. Gavin runs his finger along the first line.

"The entity known as Gavin, herefore referred to as THE FAMILIAR, will enter into a magically binding contract with Nines, herefore referred to as THE WIZARD, to serve in the capacities of both a FAMILIAR and a MINION, as outlined by the Wizard Coalition of …"

***

Gavin nuzzles into his bed and groans. Three days of barely stopping to hunt and sleep to get here, and now it's been another three days of slowly figuring each other out.

Which hasn't been bad or anything. He got to run around outside, do a few laps around the borders of Nines's land. Cold, wet, and rocky, but he has to admit, he's kind of digging the melodramatic sea-side vibe. The air smells like salt and storms all the time, crowding out all the memories of soft earth and dense forest.

And he's got a contract. A "boss." That's the word Nines wants to use, so Gavin says that, but they both know he means Alpha.

It's good to have a job, food, and a bed, blah blah blah, he's really grateful and all, it's just—

Maybe not everyone has them or wants to indulge in them, but Gavin does for both.

And it's been nearly a week.

"Nines," he finally says.

He pokes at their bond too for good measure. The wizard won't pay attention to him unless he does. They'll look up and point their face at his face, but somehow their hand will keep writing in the scroll and they won't hear a goddamn word he says.

Even with the mental prodding, Nines barely turns their head. "Hmm?"

"I need to jack off."

Nines keeps writing for half a second before they blink and actually look at him. "… now?"

Gavin half-shrugs, still laying down. "I mean, tonight, yeah."

He's a werewolf using testosterone cream—kept in a jar in his coin purse, which was much more important to enchant to shift with him than shoes—who just formed a mental pack bond again. Full moon already past or no, his hormones are screaming at him that he needs to fuck.

But that's probably not Nines's idea of a fun bonding activity.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks, then continues with narrowed eyes before he can even reply, "Do not use my spell components."

Gavin barks out a laugh. "What—I'm gonna jack it with oblex ooze? That'd melt my fucking dick off!"

"Yes, it would."

He pauses. "Do … you know that for sure?"

Nines sighs. Deeply. "I attended an academy meant to train paladins, clerics, and perhaps the odd druid."

"All the most repressed spellcasters, huh?"

Nines doesn't deny it. Gavin snorts, imagining all the magically-inclined tithe-children being told to keep themselves pure so they can be properly donated to the gods turning into magically-inclined teenagers hit with guilt and libido in equal measure—and all the idiot fuckery they probably got up to without any actual education about their bodies.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks again. "I do not keep supplies for that on hand."

"You don't keep supplies or you don't uh, keep anything on hand?" Gavin wiggles his eyebrows.

Nines flushes and glares like they're still a prefect at that academy. "I—that is not—"

Gavin raises his own hands to prove they're above the sheets. "If that's not any of my business, sure. Figured that, honestly. Which is why I'm telling you that I've got needs, but I can just go downstairs if you want."

"Downstairs?" Nines frowns less furiously.

"That little entranceway at the door is large enou—"

"I'm not going to send you out into the hall," Nines says, like that's what will make them clutch their pearls in shock. "You can stay in your own bed."

"Yeah?" Gavin gives the wizard a once over. "I'm good with that. So good. But what I'm willing to do with pack and what you think is appropriate for a roommate probably isn't the same thing."

Nines's frown turns more calculating, like they're correcting the runes in a spell. "We are discussing you staying in your bed to masturbate while I continue my studies, correct?"

"… yeah?"

"Are you going to call me names, attempt to touch me, or—"

"No, no," Gavin rushes to reassure them. "I can just …"

He moves his hand down and cups himself, just to demonstrate that he's only going to be touching his own body, before he remembers that's not socially acceptable around humans either. Nines only cocks their head to the side though, a mild curiosity leaking through their mental bond.

And fuck, just his hand feels good right now. It's been nearly a goddamn week.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks.

Gavin shivers under the sound of their voice. "Don't need it. Get wet enough myself."

He feels the bond pulse again with that academic sort of curiosity, like Nines is going to start taking notes on him again while he jacks off. He pushes his trousers down, moving slowly enough to give his boss plenty of time to look away. He isn't wearing smalls of course. They'd just be another piece he'd have to pay to get enchanted.

Nines eyes his cock like they might sketch it in exact anatomical detail.

Gavin doesn't mention how he got it—his bargain and the Collar, the collapsed tower, the vows of vengeance—he'll get around to confessing it all eventually. But in the meantime: a fun bonding activity.

Gavin grips his cock and gives it a few strokes. Nines blinks in a way that's more like shutting their eyes repeatedly. He exhales slowly and makes himself stop, although he does still keep his hand held loosely around the base.

"If you don't want echoes, you'll have to wall off your mind on your own end," he advises Nines. "I'm uh … a little too busy here to concentrate."

"Echoes," Nines repeats.

Shit, right. Human. Doesn't seem to specialize in any divination or enchantment magic—so they probably don't have any experience being inside someone else's head.

"Yeah, that's why I offered to," He jerks his chin at the door. "Distance helps, some."

Nines does that tiny little head tilt again. "May I observe?"

Gavin licks his lips. "Yeah."

"May I ignore you?" they ask next.

"Uh, sure?"

He doesn't have any human hangups about nudity, but he's not going to whip his dick out and waggle it at anyone who doesn't want to see it. Jacking off in the same room is probably already pushing it, but then again, the rules seem to be different in boarding schools and barracks and sometimes bars but sometimes not—humans have so many weird fucking rules.

"Then," Nines says. "You do as you please, and I will do the same."

"Works for me."

Gavin gives his cock another squeeze, and Nines turns back to their scroll. Yeah, he's a little disappointed about that, but it's enough just to have his pack in the same room and know he's not alone.

Since the wizard isn't watching anyway, Gavin rolls over and shoves a blanket down around his crotch. He has a whole nest of them, all piled up on top of a mattress Nines insisted he have. They'd tried to bring in an actual bed, but it's just weird, sleeping so high up and away from the ground for no reason.

He gets a soft little mound built up and grips himself again through the blanket. Even if Nines makes him wash it after, this will make his bed smell like him and home and—

Gavin buries his face into his pillow and inhales. It still has Nines's scent on it. All the blankets do too, so now they'll smell like the both of them, like pack.

He feels a fresh jab of interest spike back through their bond and guesses Nines is watching him again. Maybe jacking off right in front of them like that was a little too much, but with everything mostly out of view now, they're back to curious again.

It only takes him a minute to build up a steady rhythm, rutting into the blankets and his own hand. He groans into the pillow and hears Nines breathe in sharply.

Echoes. He grins and keeps going.

He doesn't know what kind of needs Nines has or wants to fulfill, but he likes the thought of making them feel good. Would like it even better if he could crawl over between the wizard's legs and find out what they're working with by licking it.

"Gavin …"

The wolf whines in response to his name in his Alpha's mouth. He squeezes his hand tighter at the base of his cock against the knot trying to plump up there, just in case Nines wants it.

"Yeah, baby?" Gavin manages to growl.

"Oh."

Nines breathes the word, and Gavin can feel a small simmer of arousal bounce back and forth between them—this time from the wizard's end, not his.

"Does it always feel like this?" they ask.

He groans in answer, the only response he has to the soft wonder in their voice. He knows humans' senses are weak and dull, that they don't get hit with lust and frenzy the same way wolves do.

But hearing the awe in his human's voice the first time they feel it too makes him want to show them how good it can really feel.

"Yeah," he bites out. "Better with … you."

His canines get in the way of the words, the partial shift rippling through his body. He's never had particularly good control of it, so there's no stopping the change now when his blood's up.

"Are you wet?"

The question stabs through him. Gavin loses his rhythm with a whimper, nearly overcome with the instinct to crawl over and show his Alpha, present his cock or his mouth or whatever hole they want to use.

And he is wet. He can feel it dripping down the length of his cock, more pooling at the head, smearing into the palm of his hand.

"Uh huh," he pants.

Gavin bites down into the blankets as he ruts harder, but a sharply clicked tongue brings him back to awareness. He turns his head to the side and blearily stares up at Nines as he continues fucking his own hand.

"I would like to hear you," Nines says.

"Baby," Gavin breathes in reply.

Nines closes their eyes and shivers. Well, if they like his voice …

"Wanna lick you," he says. "Suck on you and make you—ahhh, make you feel good."

"I—" Nines stares at him with wide eyes.

"Shh, shhh." Gavin keeps making the noise in a low mumble as he slows down his pace into a dirty grind. "Gotcha baby, get my mouth on your nipples an' your neck, your mouth, make you wet too."

"I don't usually like to be touched," Nines admits.

Gavin's brain snatches onto the word usually, but he doesn't want to push. There's some shit he knows for sure he won't ever do, but then there's a lot more he just doesn't know if he really doesn't want, or maybe only in the right situation, with the right pronouns and body parts, the right person, but then how is he supposed to know if he wants it enough to try it if he won't know if he actually wants it until he's already tried it?

So that's a whole big nest of wyverns, and neither of them need to try to sort it out right this moment.

"Can give you this though, yeah?" Gavin asks.

He twists his wrist on the upstroke against the head, but then stops and holds completely still. Nines tries to strangle a whine in their throat at the lost sensation.

"… yes."

That confession sounds much better. Gavin grins at the wizard and starts thrusting again, still looking at them. Their long eyelashes and shoulder-length hair almost soften their face into pretty, but then thin lips, a straight nose, and strong jaw sharpen the effect back up again. And the ice-blue eyes set against pale skin and black hair just sends it all careening past beautiful or handsome into big words about being scary-haunting-magical that the wolf can't think of right now.

He can feel his orgasm building up, drowning in those eyes staring right back at him, but he squeezes harshly at the base of his cock. The sensation strangles at the root, like the little moans Nines won't let escape their mouth.

He probably shouldn't tempt it, but he sinks into the feeling of tightening and loosening his grip around his knot and the waves of pleasure that sends rolling through them both.

"You," Nines says but can't seem to find anymore words.

"Mmgff." Gavin huffs into the pillow and tries to make his own words work. "Good, feels good. Sorry. Won't knot if—fffuck."

If that scares you. Disgusts you. Bores you, to be stuck listening to him come and come and come while the exasperated wizard is trying to focus on their studies.

He pries his eyes back open when he hears footsteps and stares up at Nines paused in an awkward-half crouch over him, like they're not sure if they're allowed to touch. His tail makes the decision for both of them by immediately wagging in anticipation of pets and attention.

"May I touch you?" Nines still asks.

Gavin nods past a desperate whine. A hand slides up the back of his neck first, while another soothes over his bare flank. Must've kicked off his trousers at some point. All that matters is the hand on the back of his neck, pinning him down, holding him place, exactly where he should be for his Alpha.

His tail wags harder.

"May I see?"

The hands urge him to roll over, and he does, without hesitation, like a dog showing his belly when his master comes home.

Laying on his back like this, he knows the partial shift is even more apparent. Just about everything humans think they know is bullshit, but his hybrid form really does look like those shitty illustrations of big scary wolf men.

And that's without the thick, hairy cock jutting out between his legs.

He's proud of it, wanted it, needed it, but that was for himself. He wasn't trying to impress anyone, and he's not expecting a human to like it.

"Does your phallus typically have this appearance, or is it increasingly engorged due to your partial transformation?" Nines asks.

Gavin stares up at them and tries to impress through their mental bond just how many fucking words that was.

Nines flushes and tries again. "Does it get bigger when you shift?"

"Yeah," he says. "Touch me?"

He holds his cock slightly out toward the wizard in offering. Nines hums in consideration but doesn't make any move toward it. That's fair.

"Do you knot without …" They struggle with the words again. "Sex?"

Gavin strokes himself, tugging upward and pause at the head. It leaves his knot free below, not quite there yet, but noticeably swollen under the attention.

"Can. Sometimes."

"Will you show me?"

Nines stares down at him and meeting their eyes is like looking at the moon. Humans want so badly to sort everything into Good or Bad, even the deities they worship. But some things aren't good or bad, only intense.

Gavin nods, mouth slack and panting. He wraps his left hand around his knot to work it while his right keeps stroking the rest. Nines's eyes sweep up and down him like a search light scanning for a rogue.

"Feel … good?" he asks between pants.

Maybe he's already asked, but it's hard to think right now. He tugs at the bond, trying to pull Nines's mind closer to him, get them to come down out of the sky and feel it with him. The wizard's hands clench into the robes draped over their kneeling legs.

Then they open their eyes again, and Gavin could swear their irises really have turned a silvery-blue.

"Behave."

The order thunders down their bond and into his chest. Gavin groans, the tightness coiled inside him easing another measure. He's not quite ready to unspool, but maybe—maybe just a little?

"I am asking about you."

Nines's voice changes from questioning and a little stilted to informing him of how it is, like casting a spell. Gavin doesn't have any ability himself, but as far as he knows, that's kind of how they do it. Spell casting is just telling reality what to do with enough conviction that reality up and does it.

"Do you want to be mine?"

Gavin thrusts into his hands in answer. It's sloppy and a little pathetic, because there's nothing for him to rut into. But he starts nodding again, just in case that wasn't enough.

"Like this?" Nines touches him for the second time, one hand gently curling around his throat. "To be mine."

He's coming undone. Falling apart. Food and shelter and an Alpha, their own little pack of two, someone touching him and promising to claim him.

"Suh … 'posed to be … yours."

He knows it's true, it's true, true. The call in his mind, their contract, both of them bound by Selûne.

"Yes," Nines confirms. "Show me."

Gavin comes almost before they finish speaking. He tries to hold eye contact as long as he can, but eventually his own squeeze shut as he curls in on himself with a shudder. The first wave passes deceptively quick, with just a few spurts from his cock.

But he's not done.

"Good boy."

Those hands are back again, just like before, this time encouraging him to roll back onto his belly. They stroke through his hair and scritch behind his ears when he obeys, and he thinks life couldn't possibly get any better until there's a warm body sliding onto the mattress behind him.

Then he's being spooned and everything inside him unravels without any warning.

When he's done coming for the second time, he's aware of a few things: the hand wrapped back around his throat, first. That the gangly half-human, half-elf is tall enough to almost envelope him completely. The soft murmur of praise in his ear, shifted halfway up his head now and nearly wolf-like.

Yours.

It's harder to send the thought out when he's only partially shifted. Even with other wolves, they all share best as animals, some basic concepts as hybrids, and only faint echoes when unshifted.

But being the wizard's familiar must be different, since he'd heard the summons in his head from damn near across the country, in all forms, while Nines can't shift at all.

You are mine. I will take care of you, if you allow me to keep you.

Oh yeah, that's definitely different. Wolves share senses and feelings, not full sentences.

Keep me, Gavin manages to think back.

"Yes," Nines murmurs aloud.

The third wave hits him, and he sobs as he comes for his Alpha. His body is just doing the best it can to please, still managing to pump out another two shots of cum. He can finally feel a tinge of mild revulsion from Nines, but it seems to be aimed more at the mess than himself. Bold feelings from a wizard who left a hunk of bread to mold so long they mistook it for a stoneshroom.

"Perhaps I should invest in a toy," they muse. "A sleeve somewhat akin to a bag of holding, so that it can contain all this mess."

Gavin groans in a not-sexy way. "Don't make me fuck a void."

"No, the pocket dimension would only be applied at the tip of the—"

He can't help but start laughing. Pocket dimension applied at the tip—and said completely straight. Goddamn wizards.

Nines expresses their irritation at being laughed at by nipping his ear, and yep, there's wave number four. To their credit, they do continue to hold him until he gets another brief reprieve.

"How many times does this occur?" they ask when he's done.

"Depends," Gavin scrapes together enough brain matter to say. "More with … partner."

"Hmm," Nines says, like the feral scientist they are.

Gavin flips off his pride and goes straight to begging. "Please."

He's not sure what exactly he's begging for though—not to be forced into multiple orgasms while Nines observes or takes notes, or that the wizard will get started on that right away.

"Please, please, baby."

Nines pulls him back to rest half on top of their body, which lets them switch their right hand for their left hand around his throat without him laying on top of their arm. And that in turn frees up their right hand to drop down to his cock.

"Yours, yours," he mumbles. "Alpha."

"What do you need?"

Their hand brushes his own, the one gripping his knot. He lets go for an agonizing second to press their hand against it instead. Nines lets him wrap his hand back around theirs, using both of their hands to squeeze and lightly tug the knot.

"Ah … ahhh …"

"Ask properly," Nines orders.

"Alphaaa!"

He practically wails the word, shaking apart in Nines's arms and beneath their hand, but he can't now, it's not enough on his own anymore, not without permission.

"Hmmm."

Gavin cries freely, but doesn't make Nines grip him tighter or stroke him off. His Alpha will give him what he needs, and he'll take what he's given, like a good boy.

But that doesn't mean he can't ask for more.

"Baby," he groans. "Need it, need it, I—phck, please!"

"Yes."

The final wave sweeps over him so hard he goes blind, or his eyes shut, or he's back on his belly again, face smushed into the pillow, Nines's hand still around him and the blankets beneath his cock to rut into and it's not the last because Nines tells him Again and Again, until he's coming dry, throat hoarse from crying.

And then once more after that.

When he regains consciousness again, his whole body feels sore in the best possible way. There's drool running down his chin, tacky and drying to the pillow. He has his knees tucked up beneath him, but that's OK, because this is how he's supposed to present anyway.

Except the hand reaching between his legs doesn't breach him. Something soft and wet swipes over him instead, and he can't even muster up the mental energy to be scared, to explain why that's still there, that he managed to bargain for a working cock and all his insides scooped out, but that's still—

"Hush." Nines soothes him with another hand rubbing his back. "You did very well. All you must do now is rest."

Gavin sinks back down into the delicious ache and doesn't move while Nines cleans the slick from between his thighs, then further up to his cock. The blankets he'd rutted into have already been removed at some point. He knows from experience not even the best wizard on the material plane could wash his scent out though and takes a moment to feel a little smug about it.

"Yes, you came a truly impressive amount," Nines says. "Excessive, actually."

Gavin smacks his mouth before he can speak. "Your fault."

"Hmmm."

Nines stands when he's done and moves away. Gavin manages to flop onto his side and curl up. His boss did say he could sleep now. He just needs a little nap.

He gets a flask of water shoved in his face instead. The hand petting him goes back awkward again, pat-pat-pat instead of real pets. Nines doesn't seem to know exactly what to do now that they're done, but clean up and water was still really nice of them.

Gavin finishes gulping down the flask and heaves in air.

"I have work I need to finish," Nines informs him. "Have your needs been sufficiently met?"

Sufficiently met? Fuck, he's had orgies that didn't wear him out this good.

"Yeah," Gavin answers. "Need to sleep now."

Nines smiles at him. "Excellent. Good boy."

Gavin grins lazily back at them. "And when I wake up, I'm gonna crawl over between your legs and make you feel good too."

Nines flushes and half opens their mouth to protest.

"When you need a break from your scroll-thingy, and only if you let me," he adds.

Nines closes their mouth. They don't say anything else, but that means they also don't say no. Their blush doesn't go away either. They simply stand back up and sit down at their desk, spending far too much concentration fussing over the exact alignment of all their inks and quills instead of looking at Gavin.

Who keeps grinning, even as he yawns and snuggles down in his bed. He just needs a little nap, and then after that … he has all sorts of ideas for fun bonding activities.

***

***

This fic was commissioned by one of my followers to continue the first drabble! Subscribers to my Patreon get early access to all my commissioned fics 2 weeks before they’re posted to AO3 and tumblr ^^

[laventadorn]

Part 1/2 I was wondering if you had any ideas/headcanons wrt Eileen/Tobias? JK doesn't really go into how they met, but given the little info he gives us its pretty clear the type of marriage they had. But, I was wondering why Tobias acted the way he did. Not that he needs a reason, but I love backstories. Do u have one for the Snapes? Personally, I sawa bit of parallel with how Seamus described how his muggle dad didn't know his mom was a which until after the wedding. I can sort of see...

I wrote one for my first HP fic, in fact! Heavily influenced by Jane Austen lmao

I would change some aspects of this now, but this was the version I dug up from my Ancient Writings: 

(readmore, y u no work)

Eileen’s parents’ marriage was arranged, as many pure-blood marriages are. The Princes were a very old, distinguished line, but impoverished, while her mother’s family was relatively new, in a pure-blood sense, but wealthy. Her parents set up the marriage with Mr. Prince, who was rather older than their daughter, but she agreed to it. However, within a short time she was unhappy, since her husband, raised to frugality, was rather miserly and she was spendthrift; and being younger, she wanted to do a great many things that it was not in his temperament to agree to. When Eileen was about five or six, her mother ran away, abandoning her child and her marriage, eloping to Europe with a lover. Her husband was so humiliated and enraged that he forbade anyone in the household to speak her name ever again. He destroyed all evidence of her existence in the house—the possessions she had left behind, the paintings they’d had commissioned, even renouncing her personal house-elf. Even when he learned, three years later, that she’d died in conditions of poverty and hardship, it didn’t soften him toward her; instead, he only believed she had got what she deserved.

When Eileen was seven, he remarried, this time to a widow, one of the Blacks, who had endured a childless marriage of some fifteen years until her husband was killed rather stupidly trying to learn how to ride a dragon. She had no wealth, but Mr. Prince still had his wife’s fortune, and Mrs. Black’s impeccable bloodline meant more to him in any case. She and Mr. Prince were rather meant for each other, however: both were nip-farthings, both joyless and cruel, and both rigidly traditional. They believed in duty, propriety, and unstinting obedience from their children. 

Mrs. Black, now Mrs. Prince, thought worse of the former Mrs. Prince than even her husband did. To her, a woman’s infidelity was the worst of vile sins, and she pitied her new husband for having married such a filthy whore. She was sorry that the former Mrs. Prince had left behind a little girl, since naturally the daughter of such a whore would turn out just like her. 

But Mrs. Prince was determined to do her duty by Eileen. She raised her to be a proper pure-blood wife—dutiful, obedient, graceful and silent. She beat into her the importance of propriety, telling Eileen how vital it was that she give no one any cause to say how like her mother she was, however much she would surely have the same sort of base, wicked urges as that slut. She also impressed upon Eileen the necessity of marrying into a pure-blood family of stature, since her mother was a fine example of the rubbish that rose to the surface of bad blood.

Within a few short years, the new Mrs. Prince had rewarded her second husband with twin sons. These boys had the benefit firstly of being boys, always a plus in pure-blood families, as well as the added bonus of not having a piece of trash for a mother. The practice of favoring the sons over the daughters was standard in pure-blood families, but the sins of Eileen’s mother worsened her lot. Nothing Eileen ever did was right enough or good enough or proper enough in the eyes of her family; and at school she had no friends, since the pure-blood daughters of Slytherin were fully aware of her mother’s story and had been forbidden from associating with her. Eileen was not pretty, and her home life was too miserable to make her good enough company to compensate for her other defects. Her father pretended she did not exist, her brothers teased and tormented her, and her stepmother ruled her whole life with a fist of iron. 

Eileen retreated into her schoolwork, into books and knowledge. In second year she did make one friend, a Ravenclaw named Constance Marlowe. Constance was a very tranquil person. Her mother was Muggle-born, and she would tell Eileen about her Muggle grandparents. Eileen had never met Muggles. Her father and stepfather loathed them, but they loathed Eileen, too, and loved her brothers and the pure-blood families who treated Eileen as if their cruelty was simply preempting every nasty thing they suspected she would ever do. 

Then in fifth year, while visiting the sea shore on summer holiday, Constance drowned. Eileen went to her funeral, to which many of Constance’s Muggle relatives had come. They looked like regular people, although they dressed funny. After that, Eileen hated the ocean, but realized that Muggles were capable of human thought and speech, which her family had always led her to believe they weren’t.

When school ended, she returned to live at her father’s house, since pure-blood women of her family’s stature did not get jobs; they got married. But with Eileen’s reputation, her looks, and her father’s desire to spend as little money on her dowry as possible, she received no offers. Her blood was not even decent enough, balanced as it was by her mother’s betrayal. So for more than ten years, Eileen lived in her father’s home, a companion to her stepmother, an object of mockery to her brothers and the children they went on to have.

By the time she was thirty, everyone, even she, was certain she would never marry. Her stepmother even came to relax her restrictions, since she had kept Eileen wrapped so tightly out of a duty to maidenly propriety. A thin, unattractive thirty-year-old witch was not likely to be prey to any lascivious attentions or whims. Uncaring now of the reputation she had so viciously guarded, Mrs. Prince let Eileen out of the house for longer periods of time … although she might not have, had she known Eileen was visiting Muggle haunts.

On one of these jaunts, when she was about thirty-one, Eileen met Tobias. She had gone, in fact, to the seaside town where Constance drowned, perhaps out of a morbid desire to torture herself. He was there, too, trying to get away from his life for a bit, since he’d just gotten divorced. 

He had married young when his girlfriend got pregnant unexpectedly. He’d done his duty by her, quitting school and going to work at the mill, but a few months before the day he met Eileen, his wife had sat him down and said she’d fallen in love with some other bloke, but she wanted to do right by Tobias because he’d always done right by her. She and he weren’t in love, hadn’t been since the very early days, even if they’d rubbed along together easily enough, and he said as long as he could keep seeing his girl, they’d be all right. So they divorced amicably, and she married the other bloke, who was a bit older and balding and sort of fat, but a jolly sort, which Tobias had to admit he was not. Lorraine’s new husband looked a bit like Santa Claus to Tobias, and he knew his daughter would like her step-father, if she didn’t already. And although as a young man he’d agreed to the marriage of necessity and had never really been bitter about it, happy enough with his wife and daughter for company, he had wanted more from his life than he’d wound up with at thirty-five: divorced, uneducated, in a dreary, pointless job.

As she was talking with him, Eileen realized she wanted more than anything to get away from her family. She realized how purely she hated them, as if the hatred ran through her blood. She decided to scandalize them utterly: packed up her marriage chest and ran away, to live with Tobias without marrying him, hoping to drive her father and step-mother both to an apoplectic fit, but at least one or the other if she could manage it. 

So she and Tobias simply lived together for a while, until Eileen got pregnant. She had been guarding against this, but the magical world had an old wives’ tale that wizarding babies wanted to be born so badly that sometimes, you couldn’t stop them. When she told Tobias, he wanted to get married, and although she didn’t really, she didn’t want her child to suffer the ignominy of being the bastard of a whore. So they were married, very quietly, only Tobias’ ex-wife in attendance with her family. Not wanting to give birth to a daughter that would live the life she’d had, Eileen mixed a very Dark potion to ensure the birth of a son.

So Severus was born. She put an ad in the Daily Prophet, hoping her family would see it, in case it would give them an aneurism. 

Before Severus was born, but when she was close to due, Tobias asked her if the baby would have magic. Eileen said, “It is likely, but he may not.”

“What happens if he doesn’t?” Tobias asked.

Eileen shrugged. “Then he doesn’t.” She wanted her son to be a wizard, but she was no longer in the magical world; a Squib child would not matter to her now. She had brothers; she was not even the end of the line. 

It was impossible to tell if babies had magic, so for several years after Severus’ birth it was a moot issue. Eileen continued to work spells, because Tobias said he didn’t mind, he actually thought it was pretty interesting. And then one day when Severus was about four or five, he worked magic, and out of nowhere Tobias blew up at the pair of them. Eileen was so shocked she actually flinched away, because although she knew Tobias had a temper, he’d never turned it on her. Severus burst into tears. And then Eileen pulled herself together and reacted, rage and hatred boiling up out of her through her wand, and she turned it on her husband, the way she’d always wanted to do to her brothers, her father, her step-mother, the children at school, and she blasted him across the room and into the bookshelf.

Severus screamed. Eileen stood frozen, looking at Tobias’ unconscious body slumped under an array of books. She blasted them off him and found he was bleeding from cuts all over his front. She hastily flooed them all to St. Mungo’s, where he was swiftly patched up. Although the Healers gave her funny looks, they did nothing to her because she was a witch and he was only a Muggle, and there weren’t legal protections in those days for the Muggle spouses of wizards and witches.

Tobias wasn’t the same after that. Eileen didn’t know whether it was the shock of her turning her magic on him, or Severus’ own magic manifesting, or even the trip to St. Mungo’s, because his face as he looked around the hospital as they left had been haunted. After that, he began to drink more. Although he’d always had a few on the weekends and even more on holidays, he was soon never seen without a drink in his hand or the scent of alcohol on his breath. He wouldn’t tell Eileen what was wrong, and it was impossible to get anything from the mind of a drunk person; even trying it made one disoriented. 

She expected him to leave them; expected to wake up one morning and find him gone, but for some reason he never did. They settled into a life where Tobias would go for days avoiding her and Severus, hardly speaking to them when sober, muttering when inebriated, with occasional outbursts of temper that Eileen would sometimes curtail, but at others simply weather out. As a young child Severus was at first frightened, then hurt, and once he grew older, resentful.

Once, when Severus was about seven, she did wake up in the middle of the night and find Tobias in Severus’ room, watching him sleep. Tobias was just drunk enough to be honest. He looked up at her with haunted eyes and said, “Do you hate that I can’t do it?”

“Do what?” she asked, bewildered.

“What you can do. What he can do. Do you hate me because I can’t?”

Eileen just stared at him. “Is that why you act like this?” He didn’t say anything, just looked back at Severus. “No, I don’t hate you. That would be like hating the sky because it’s blue.”

When he spoke, she almost didn’t hear him. “Sometimes I hate you, though. Both of you.”

It took Eileen much longer than it should have to understand what Tobias was really telling her: that he hated them for being able to do something he never would. He hated them for having the power of magic when he was only a Muggle. That look on his face in St. Mungo’s had been shock at an entire world he’d never guessed existed; and now that he knew of it, he also knew he would only ever be on the outside looking in.

But she had not understood this in time. She resented his drinking; he resented her powers; they resented each other’s resentment. And at the heart of it, they came to hate the other for a second chance that had turned to ash, just as the first chance had. 

Eventually Eileen realized that the same barrier that stood between her and Tobias had blocked him off from Severus, and she simply quit trying to bridge it. She drew Severus into the circle of her magic, eschewing any acknowledgment of the non-magical world he was half a part of. She had always meant Tobias to show him that part, and now Tobias would not. She taught Severus about his magical bloodline, the House of their family’s allegiance, the world he would enter once he was old enough, the powers he would wield. Although she punished him if he looked in her books without her permission, she taught him hexes and curses and spells that would get him respected among his Slytherin peers, that would receive him the notice of families he would need to impress in order to gain entrance into the society that should have been his—both of theirs, had her life gone much differently. She raised him more as she had been raised, in a manner typical for pure-blood daughters: with strictness and not much indulgence, because she’d loathed the men her brothers had become, alternately indulged and ruthlessly punished as they had been, as the beloved sons of two cruel, cold-hearted people. 

In teaching Severus about the world she had left, sending him off into the future he ought to have, Eileen realized she had never been happy in the world of magic. She had known the truth of that, lived it all her life, but never articulated it to herself. But she was not happy in the Muggle world, either; she did not understand it, couldn’t navigate it. It was too vast and unfamiliar for her even to know where to start. As she prepared Severus for Hogwarts, Eileen realized the only time she had been anything close to happy was in that seaside town when she had met Tobias, and she had believed, for a handful of days, that the future would be different from the past.

But it hadn’t been. Now Tobias was gone, and only Severus was left. And even though she had tried her hardest to make it otherwise, she realized that Severus was just as out-of-place as she had ever been; she, the daughter of a whore, the pure-blood wife of a Muggle with a wizard for a son. Severus was the child of two people whose lives had been wasted for them by others; sent as hardly more than a baby into the world of pure-blood politics with such a tiny arsenal of anything they would see as promise, in love with a naïve Muggle-born Gryffindor. If Severus wanted the Muggle-born, he would cut all his chances of entering good society; and if he got the Muggle-born, he would find himself in the midst of people who regarded his magic with jealousy and suspicion.

That was the true curse of the half-blood, she thought. You were always trapped between worlds that didn’t know how to claim you.

.

.

.

*Snape doesn’t have those uncles anymore cuz they died off somehow, and he doesn’t have contact with his dad’s first family. He doesn’t strike me as someone who has a large extended family he pals around with, although I’m sure they exist. I have 1 jillion cousins I know absolutely nothing about, not even their names.  

[obsidianarchives]

The Real House-students of Hogwarts S1E3

Episode 3: Drama in the Cards

LAVENDER (V.O.): Previously, on the Real House-students of Hogwarts…

BLAISE to DESIREE: I didn’t quit BSU entirely. I just...needed a break.

DESIREE CONFESSIONAL: I’ll say this about my relationship with Blaise: we’re just friends for a reason.

CUT TO BLAISE seeing a group of Slytherins approaching: I’ve gotta go. He leaves.

The camera cuts to Desiree, anger rising on her face.

DEAN CONFESSIONAL: So he can’t be seen with us in the halls now?

DESIREE CONFESSIONAL: Says to herself: Don’t blow up Des, just breathe through it. She takes a deep breath and then forces a smile at the camera.

CUT TO HERMIONE: I’m having a knit-in for S.P.E.W.

DESIREE: What about Lavender? She offered to help too, right?

HERMIONE: I’m not letting that fraudulent magic anywhere near my event.

DEAN CONFESSIONAL: Grinning. Ouch.

…

*Upbeat/vaguely wizarding music plays*

BLAISE ZABINI: I may be a Slytherin, but I am not a snake.

DEAN THOMAS: I’m a team player, but I’m always ahead of the pack.

DESIREE WARBECK: My cookies are always served with tea.

ALEX JOHNSON: I may be the youngest, but I can teach these old bats a thing or two.

HERMIONE GRANGER: Books and cleverness? There are more important things...like justice.

LAVENDER BROWN: You can’t predict the future, but I can.

Pan out to reveal all six wizards, each holding out their wand over the words THE REAL HOUSE-STUDENTS OF HOGWARTS.

...

A series of shots: a Hogwarts courtyard, the Forbidden Forest, an aerial shot of Hogwarts.

HERMIONE (V.O.): No! The yarn goes over there, how many times do I have to say that?!

And then: the Great Hall. HERMIONE GRANGER is wrangling her helpers: ALEX JOHNSON, DEAN THOMAS, NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM (Friend of Hermione), and LUNA LOVEGOOD (Friend of Alex). Neville drops the yarn, jumping as Hermione shouts at him. Dean sighs and levitates the yarn, guiding it over to its proper position. Alex consults his clipboard, the feather of his quill tapping his nose.

ALEX: Hmm, we seem to be missing the green.

HERMIONE rushing over to him: What do you mean we don’t have green yarn?!

HERMIONE CONFESSIONAL: She fidgets, smoothing out her robes, pushing her headband back. Her voice is sharp. I may sound harsh, but this is really important. Our goal is to knit fifty pieces of clothing tonight, which would free half of the Hogwarts kitchen staff. There’s a lot on the line here.

CUT TO DEAN who walks up to Hermione and Alex with a grin: Maybe some Gryffindor took it.

ALEX starts to smile but turns solemn as Hermione’s eyes cut at Dean.

HERMIONE walking away: I don’t have time for this.

DEAN CONFESSIONAL: I don’t know why she’s so worked up. How many people are even coming to this?

Cut to DESIREE WARBECK and BLAISE ZABINI entering the Great Hall. Their wands are pointed at floating bins full of Desiree’s bakes. 

HERMIONE hurries over to them: Oh thank goodness.

BLAISE CONFESSIONAL: He looks annoyed, but shrugs. Des needed help. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.

DESIREE CONFESSIONAL: She rolls her eyes. He’s just trying to get back on my good side.

BACK TO HERMIONE ushering them to two tables covered in a black cloth over where the Hufflepuff table usually sits: Here, you can set up here. Thank you so much for helping.

DESIREE sets her bins down on the table and smiles: No worries.

Blaise sets down his bins. Alex appears, nose inches from his clipboard.

ALEX: Luna and Neville are off searching for the green yarn, but were wondering if you could just Transfigure one of the bundles we already have in the event that they can’t find it. Dean needs to know where to hang up the banner. And Dobby still hasn’t arrived.

HERMIONE looks stressed: We can’t Transfigure the yarn, it will fade over time and then what if it doesn’t match the rest of the clothing?

Blaise snorts, but Desiree reaches into one of her bins, pulling out two chocolate tarts.

DESIREE shoves the tarts at Hermione and Alex: Take a breath and eat these.

HERMIONE takes a bite: Thanks Des, these are really—Dobby!

Hermione rushes off to speak with DOBBY (House-elf, Friend of Hermione).

Cut to Dean, who is on the other side of the hall, trying to hang a banner that reads: THE SOCIETY FOR THE PROMOTION OF ELFISH WELFARE PRESENTS: THE FIRST ANNUAL HOGWARTS KNIT-IN.

DEAN CONFESSIONAL: I’m just trying to stay out of Hermione’s way at this point.

Cut to Desiree, directing Blaise on where to put the platter of ginger biscuits.

DESIREE: Just there should be—oh bollocks.

The camera pans to what has caught Desiree’s attention: the entrance to the Great Hall, where LAVENDER BROWN and PARVATI PATIL (Friend of Lavender) are entering with tea cups, rolls of parchment, and a crystal ball.

DESIREE CONFESSIONAL: Here we go.

ALEX CONFESSIONAL: He checks his clipboard, which he has brought to the confessional for some reason. I...don’t think Lavender is on the list.

DEAN CONFESSIONAL: He waves his wand. Accio Popcorn. A bag of popcorn soars to him from off-camera and he takes a handful before stuffing it into his mouth.

CUT TO HERMIONE who is speaking with Dobby and HARRY POTTER (Friend of Hermione). She grimaces before making her way over to Lavender and Parvati in the entrance to the Great Hall.

HERMIONE CONFESSIONAL: with an innocent look on her face as she tries (poorly) to mask her shady behavior. I completely forgot to tell Lavender I didn’t need her!

CUT TO LAVENDER who is looking around at the set up.

LAVENDER CONFESSIONAL: The event looks...nice. She purses her lips.

BACK TO LAVENDER: Hey Hermione! Where should Parv and I set up?

HERMIONE: Oh no, I’m sorry Lavender, but we don’t have any space! I meant to tell you before, but there’s been so much going on…

The camera pans around the Great Hall, where there is plenty of space and at least 4 empty tables. 

BACK TO LAVENDER who clearly sees this, but is trying to stay calm.

PARVATI catching a tone: I thought you wanted her help.

HERMIONE shakes her head: I just don’t think your...offer...was a good fit for the event.

LAVENDER CONFESSIONAL: Oh no this witch didn’t.

BACK TO LAVENDER who pushes past Hermione: This is ridiculous.

HERMIONE: Lavender!

But Lavender ignores her, placing her things on an empty table.

HERMIONE CONFESSIONAL: This is absolutely unacceptable. Who does this at another person’s event?

HERMIONE grabs the crystal ball and pushes it back into Lavender’s hands: I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

LAVENDER looks at Hermione, anger rising on her face: Excuse me??

The camera goes to Desiree and Blaise, who are watching with their mouths open. Dean watches from the banner, grimacing. Alex takes notes. Hermione and Lavender stare each other down angrily.

TO BE CONTINUED…

…

ALEX (V.O.): Next time, on the Real House-students of Hogwarts…

HERMIONE in the Great Hall: Okay, everyone! We can finally start now!

The camera pans around the Great Hall, showing a few people leisurely knitting, two pretending to sword-fight with knitting needles, others stuffing their faces with pastries.

LAVENDER in the entrance hall speaking with Desiree and Parvati: I don’t even know why I offered to help her. Next time I’ll be more conscious of who I give charity to.

Hermione whips out her wand, and Dean and Desiree jump forward to hold her back as Parvati pulls Lavender back. Lavender and Hermione are screaming at each other, their words unintelligible.

The camera cuts to the students in the Great Hall, faces ranging from embarrassed to curious.

ALEX CONFESSIONAL: Honestly, this is a mess.

[necromaniackat]

Finders Keepers

Chapter 3: Get Your Wands Ready

I don’t know how but Mackyla managed to drag me to Hogsmeade with Ella to go dress shopping. I’ve been friends with Mac for six years and to this day I have no idea how she manages to pull me into doing things I’m not keen on doing. It’s been this way ever since our first year when she managed to convince me to sneak to Hogsmeade after curfew to meet some of her Hogwarts friends. Of course, her friends were a bit older than us and she snogged a third-year boy most of the time while I was on edge about being out so late with the notorious Sirius Black on the loose and being spotted in in Dufftown. He’s not high on the list of threats since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named came back. Therefore, I always carry my wand in the sleeve of my coat or robes, even when I sleep. I refuse to be caught off guard by anything or anyone.  

The snowy walk to Hogsmeade was filled with Mac kicking snow balls until they exploded back into snowflakes while Ella skipped through the ankle high snow. I lingered behind them with my hands shoved into the pockets of my coat. The cold wind bit at my cheeks and ears. I wish I had my hat to cover my head, but Ella gave it to a house elf to free him. I don’t mind that she didn’t ask first, it was for a good cause.  

“Eliese! What kind of person are you?! Come play in the snow!” Ella exclaimed, finally standing still in the snow. I shook my head at my dear friend and grinned. Ella acts as if the snow won’t be here tomorrow and the days after until the weather starts getting warmer and the sun comes out to stay.  

“I’m the kind of person who wants their hat back from that house elf!” I shouted back at her with a smile. Ella grinned back at me, walking backwards. But all the fun and games came to an end on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. My blood began to boil, and my face reddened with anger. There is one word I despise above all rest of the horrible words the fill peoples’ vocabularies and it was clear as day being put out there for all to hear. It made me look at my sunflower friend, Mac. Her face was as white as snow and she wore a distant look in her pretty blue eyes.  

“What are you doing here, mud blood?” Kaitlyn Murphy demanded as the mouth of the village. She was talking to Mac, but Ella stepped in. I could only stand there and stare wide eyed at the group of Seamus house girls standing with Kaitlyn. I couldn’t believe they were doing this in Hogsmeade, but these are their taunting grounds. But it looks like they’re waiting for someone and we just so happened to have stumbled upon them and their unnecessary commentary.

“She has every right to be here just like the rest of us.” Ella bravely claimed with an expression made of stone. Ella was a ditzy and bubbly but when people she cares for are attacked, she refuses to stand aside and let it happen. Ella is the first one in, last one out type of person. I admire that about her. I nodded in agreement. Kaitlyn gave a snarled half smile as if she knew something we didn’t before her body language changed to defensive.  

“For now.” Kaitlyn commented coldly. Kaitlyn Murphy has tormented almost every girl in our year for one reason or another. Her prime targets are the muggle born girls, most likely Mackyla. She’s been doing this since the first train ride to Hogsmeade Station our first year. She found out Mackyla was muggle born and decided to humiliate her on the train in front of our peers. That’s actually how we became friends, I stepped in and helped Mac get away from them and their rude comments. Kaitlyn isn’t afraid to use the term mud blood and show where she stands with muggle born wizards and witches in the magical community.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I piped up in a curious tone. Kaitlyn’s head snapped in my direction and a wicked smile curled at her lips. It made me slide my wand into my hand and grip it tight, ready to fight if need be.  

“Times are changing. Things are going to be very different around here soon.” Kaitlyn replied in a threatening tone that made a chill crawl up my spine. The group of girls disbanded from the entrance of Hogsmeade silently, leaving the three of us standing there unsure of what to make of Kaitlyn’s response. Usually it’s hard to take her seriously because she isn’t the smartest witch but for some reason the ominous tone of her voice made things very serious. Kaitlyn is known to agree that only pure blood should be given magical education while muggles and half-bloods, and muggle born wizards and witches are treated like second class citizens.  

Without much thought I hooked my arm around Mac and pulled her into the safety of Hogsmeade, trying to escape that moment by leaving the mouth of the village. Ella followed closely behind. I felt terrible for Mackyla, she doesn’t know her parents, so she doesn’t know if she’s pure blood or not. But people assume she’s part muggle because she grew up in the muggle world. As if being muggle born is a crime. It’s not, people don’t decide who their parents are so why are they being punished for it? Mackyla has never let being muggle born stop her from being an intelligent, kind, hard working person. But Ella and I can see the names get to her.  

“So, dress shopping, eh? Where are we going?” I directed everyone’s attention away from the scene that just unfolded. Mackyla looked at me with a small smile nudging at the corners of her mouth.  

“The Witch’s Closet. They’re having a Yule sale.” Mac said in a light tone of voice. She seemed to have moved past the whole incident.  

Ella rejoined the two of us, hooking her arm around Mac as well. We walked down the snow main street. I remember our first official visit to Hogsmeade back in third year when we were actually allowed to go to Hogsmeade but that didn’t stop my two friends from dragging me there dozens of times before we were permitted to actually go. My aunty started working at the post office in Hogsmeade during my third year, so I’d go visit her sometimes. I enjoyed going to see the Shrieking Shack. Mac and Ella didn’t think it was that cool, even though I did.  

My dad almost didn’t sign the permission slip for me to go. He doesn’t like me being on my own in the first place and then Cedric Diggory died and now the Dark Lord is back, my dad nearly had a stroke when I began to pack for school again. He didn’t want me to come back to school this year, but he knows how much my education means to me. I reassured him that I can handle myself.  

“So, what type of dress are you looking for ‘Liese?” Mackyla asked curiously, looking at me over the racks of dresses. I nosed through the rack of pretty formal dresses, my eyes moved up to see the sheer concentration on her face. I shrugged slightly.  

“I don’t know.” I sighed. Professor Fitzgerald told me my attitude towards the Yule Ball better changed otherwise I’ll be sitting in detention with her for a month. I still don’t want to go but I’m putting an effort to appear pleasant at the Yule Ball.  

“Oh! Oh! Try this one!” Ella exclaimed, bounding towards me with a dress at hand. Mackyla and I looked at her as she handed me a lovely grey-silver dress.

“Is it my size?” I asked sheepishly.  

“Who cares?! Try it on!” Ella cheered, shoving the dress into my chest then directed me to the dressing room. She pushed me into the booth then ripped the curtain closed. I huffed at her excitement, brushing my hair bushing my ear. I peeled off the warm clothes so I could try on the dress. The dress was made of silver silk that was floor length with a sweet heart neckline but a silvery white lace covering the cleavage area.  

I sighed at the sight of me in the dress. It fit me well and it was something I’d wear. I stepped out of the dressing room to show my friends. They both stared at me wide eyed, their jaws were dropped. I suddenly felt very awkward standing there.  

“So?” I wanted to know their honest opinion on how I looked. I didn’t care too much how I looked to other people, but I do care about my friends and what they think. And by the looks of it, they liked the dress.

“I never knew you could look so elegant but at the same time look so, you.” Mac commented with a smile. Mac always tells me I look like a plain Jane but with a little elbow grease I’d look stunning. Mac and Ella began to shower me with compliments when the bell over the door rang and my attention was caught by abnormally blond hair, it was the boy from class. His almost silver-blue eyes found me immediately. I could swear I knew him from somewhere besides class, but I don’t remember where. A sinking feeling overcame me when Kaitlyn came leaping into the store behind him, immediately latching onto his arm. And there goes any respect I had for him.  

The moment Kaitlyn saw us a look of pure disgust distorted her face.  

“What are you lot doing here?” She demanded coldly, still holding close the blond boy. I rolled my eyes at her demand. As if it couldn’t be more obvious. I mean, I’m totally not standing here in a dress with my friends, who’s arms are full of potential dresses.  

“Dress shopping for the Yule Ball, that’s what we’re doing here.” I remarked the obvious, stepping forward to meet her eye to eye. I’ve never been afraid of Kaitlyn. She wants control over people.  

“It’s bad enough mud bloods are allowed at St Therese, but now they’re allowed to attend our social gatherings.” Kaitlyn sneered at Mac once again. I narrowed my eyes at her.  

“I swear, if you call my friend that one more time,”

“You’ll what? Or else what?” Kaitlyn taunted mercilessly.  

“You’ll be sorry.” I added in a low voice. I was being dead serious, if she kept using that word, I was going to act against her. I’ve never been afraid of her and I never will be.  

In one swift movement Kaitlyn drew her wand from out of nowhere. My instincts kicked in and I summoned my wand from the sleeve of my coat. It appeared in my hand at the speed of light. I stood in a defensive position, ready for the fight of my life.

“No. You’ll be sorry.” She retorted with her wand pointed at me. And I pointed mine at her. The blond haired boy silently sneered at the scene unfolding.  

“Oi!” A woman’s voice cut through the tension, causing all of us to look at the red haired shop keeper.  

“No magic outside of school! Wands away!” Without much of a second thought, my wand lowered down to my side. I was mildly disappointed that we didn’t get to duel. Kaitlyn believes she’s better at everything than me. But our grades say otherwise.  

“Right, let’s go to a different store seeing as the filthy mud blood has touched everything.” Kaitlyn growled before turning on her heel to leave. The blond haired boy followed close behind as they left the store. I felt my entire body relax in their absence. I put my wand back in my coat, realizing Mac had her hand hovering over the pocket of her long coat. She was ready to fight just like I was.  

“Good idea putting the accio charm on your wand.” Ella lightly said after a moment of silence. Mac nodded hastily. Mac and Ella both seemed surprised by the fact that I put an accio charm on my wand so I can summon it whenever. I can do wandless magic and have been able to since second year.  

“You guys don’t have to keep defending me.” Mac said sullenly for the billionth time. I wonder if she knows that we know that we don’t have to defend her, we want to. If you don’t fight for what’s right every time, then you don’t fight for what’s right. I know Mac doesn’t like being called names and I don’t like it either. One of the rules at St Therese is there is zero tolerance for bullying so most of the bullying happens off the school grounds. Somehow people find a way to do anything they want.  

“Yes, we do. It’s the right thing to do.” Ella spoke gently, putting her hand on Mac’s shoulder. Mac smiled and nuzzled Ella’s hand slightly.  

“Besides, it’s fun seeing Kaitlyn fume with rage because she can’t control us.” Ella added with a devilish smirk, causing both me and Mac to laugh.  

“But really, ‘Liese, you need to get this dress.” Mac told me with a great big smile. I smiled back at my best friend. I’ve always adored how fast Mac can bounce back from these things. I know the bullying get to her and it gets to me too, but Mac has this way of being able to carry on despite it all. Mac gets the blunt of it, but Ella and I get bullied too. My dad being in the muggle world and all, I get picked on and called a mud blood even though I’m a pure blood.