#the Potter's house remains the same

[calamitoustide]

thinking about how i have such specific layouts for each of the houses/rooms in my fics like I see it so clearly and yet no one else is ever gonna see it the exact same way as me

[lilithofpenandbook]

au where when a Death Eater is killed, they can actually not die, on one condition:

Their heart must be pure.

This doesn't mean they never ever did anything wrong. That's impossible if you're human. No, this means that whatever they've done, it's for a selfless reason. That whatever bad they've done for selfish reasons, they've fully regretted, repented, and set out for redemption. That in their heart of hearts, they are no true Death Eater, because true Death Eater have no compassion, or selfless love. Selfless Love is a pure thing, and if that exists in the heart, then they may survive being killed.

And there's another thing: they return to the physical state they were in before taking the Dark Mark. It's all effectively "wiped clean", as it were. Of course, the actions remain, as do the mental scars, but the physical body is now back to when it was still pure of this evil as a little nod to the purity of their heart.

During the second war, then, there are a few Death Eaters who do not die. But only the fewest:

The most famous example? Severus Snape, who is all but a mere child, barely touching adulthood. Who's small and underweight, whose body is still riddled with scars from the Good Guys. Who's so young it's frightening to think he became a death eater at this age because there's something so broken and fragile about him. How did he manage to survive through that?

And then... And then there's Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black.

Who... Who's a literal child.

[brokenmenswhore]

crush | sirius black

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader (james’s sister)

summary: as james’s little sister, you’ve been around sirius most of your life and developed a bad crush. james doesn’t want sirius anywhere near you, but what can he do if he doesn’t know?

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

It started when you were nine. He was eleven.

Your brother, James, had invited his new friends over during the holiday break. He was excited to have made such good friends during his first year at Hogwarts, and he explained to your parents that one friend in particular preferred not to return home if he didn’t need to, and your parents were happy to host.

James introduced Sirius, Remus, and Peter to your parents, barely taking the time to introduce them to you. He quickly said “and that’s my sister,” and walked away, the boys following suit. Sirius, however, gave you a smile before walking away, his longer, dark hair falling slightly in front of his face. You returned his smile and blushed.

When you were eleven and he was thirteen, you were sorted into Hufflepuff during the sorting ceremony, and James sighed in relief that he wouldn’t have to deal with you being in the same house as him. You looked to his table to wave at him, but he turned away when he saw you, embarrassed by his little sister. Sirius, however, returned the wave.

When you were thirteen and he was fifteen, the Marauders hosted a party at the beginning of term, and you snuck in, desperate to be included. Fifth years were already drinking, but you weren’t ready to. James and Remus tried to pressure you into drinking, but Sirius ripped the bottle out of your hand and downed its entire contents in one large gulp. “Oops,” he shrugged, “guess she can’t drink it if it’s all gone.” You gave him a small smile as a thank you, and he gave you a nod.

Later that same year, when you heard the news that Sirius took Alice Fortescue’s virginity, and she was bragging about it, you felt a drop in the pit of your stomach. You were envious. You assumed Sirius got girls, he was much too gorgeous and confident not to, but hearing it spoken of make it so real, and it hurt. You liked him, and you were jealous.

When you were fifteen and he was seventeen, you were all at a party in Ravenclaw house, seated in a gigantic group of truth or dare.

“Truth or dare, Potter?” Dorcas asked, taking a hit of the blunt between his fingers.

“Dare, obviously,” you responded.

Dorcas let out a chuckle. “I dare you to make out with Black over here.”

You could feel the blush rise to your cheeks. You turned toward Sirius, who was nonchalantly slumped over on the couch. He was always so casual, as if nothing ever phased him. He took a drag from his cigarette, tapping the butt down on a tray as he blew out the smoke, then dropping the cigarette down and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” James interrupted, an amused chuckle leaving his lips, “she’s not doing that.”

You shot him a look.

“You’re not kissing my best friend. Sorry, sis,” he told you.

“Game’s got rules,” Sirius shrugged.

James glared at him. “This is disgusting, I can’t watch this.”

Sirius stood up and approached where you were sat cross-legged on the rug, dropping to his knees to meet your gaze.

“Do you accept the dare?” he nearly whispered, leaning his face toward yours.

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head yes as Sirius leaned in even more, tilting his head slightly to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

You reciprocated, your lips moving in unison as Dorcas teased you by cheering you on. Desperate to appear confident and in control, you tangled your fingers through Sirius’s hair, pulling him even closer to you as you deepened the kiss for a moment. He was so good at it, but you were hyper aware of the eyes on you, so you pulled away, dropping your hand from the back of his head.

Sirius remained close to you for a moment, exchanging a glance as he caught his breath.

“Okay, enough, enough, gross,” James said, pulling Sirius’s shoulder until he moved away from you.

The next morning, James was not happy with you as he caught up to you walking down the hall. “Can’t believe you kissed Sirius,” he said, jogging to reach your side.

“It was truth or dare, James, don’t be a baby,” you replied.

“You still got a thing for him, huh?” he teased, bumping your shoulder.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you said, shifting your books in your arms.

“Oh, come on, you really think I can’t see it?”

You stopped short and turned to your brother. “What do you want, James?”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want, and that’s for you to get all worked up over this. I know you’ve got a little crush on him, but Sirius isn’t that kind of guy. I just don’t want you to get yourself attached over a stupid game when, in reality, it’ll never happen.”

“Are you so defensive because you care about my feelings or because you don’t want me to like your best friend?” you retorted, slightly annoyed by James’s statement.

“Just keep your distance, okay? For both of our sakes,” he said, turning away from you to dip through one of the open classroom doors.

When you were sixteen and he was eighteen, you walked in on Sirius with another girl.

One of your friends let you into the Gryffindor common room in search of James. Your mother had sent for both of you, asking you to visit your father during a tumultuous week for his health. He was alright, but was in hospital, and your Heads of House had approved for both you and James to be absent for one week in order to visit him.

“James!” you called up the staircase, but to no avail. Classes were finished for the day, and Remus and Peter were seated at a table in the common room reading, so he wasn’t out with his friends.

You muttered to yourself, “…always fucking ignores me…” as you marched up the staircase, impatient at his constantly disregard for you as you swung the door to his dormitory open, and that’s when you saw Sirius and Mary McDonald. It was a genuine accident.

Mary squealed and pulled the sheets over her body, while Sirius simply pulled out of her, standing tall despite his nakedness, and turning to you as he, in no rush, picked his underwear up off the floor.

“Can we help you?” he asked, jumping into the fabric and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

You were speechless. You were embarrassed by the act you had just witnessed, mad at Mary due to your jealousy, and completely enamored by the sight of of Sirius, first naked, and now in nothing but his boxers, his body glistening from sweat.

“I- I was looking for James, but I can see he’s not here, so-“ you quickly turned and shut the door behind you, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. Taking a moment was a mistake, because Sirius swung the door open before you could escape down the staircase.

“He’s joined a study group in the library,” Sirius spoke, “promised to tutor some classmates in Transfiguration or some shit.”

You avoided making eye contact with Sirius, nodding your head and thanking him for the information as you moved to the first step of the staircase, but Sirius caught your wrist, pulling your attention back to him.

“Whatcha need him for, anyway?” he asked.

“Family stuff,” you responded, barely loud enough for Sirius to hear.

Sirius nodded. “You gave Mary in there a right good scare, Potter.”

“Right, well, sorry,” you responded, your jealousy allowing you to mask confidence in your voice. As hot as he looked, you felt angry. You knew it was irrational, but you were a sixteen year old girl, and you were jealous.

You got down five steps before Sirius spoke again. “We aren’t together, you know.”

You stopped short and turned your body up the stairs. “Why would I care?” you spoke, retreating down the rest of the steps and out of the common room to collect yourself and find your brother.

“Where’s Prongs?” Sirius asked the next morning, confused as to why only he and Remus were present in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Had to go see his dad, apparently he’s not feeling too good,” Remus explained, “his mom freaked out and had him come visit.”

Sirius nodded to gesture he was listening. “Y/N too?”

Remus furrowed his brows as he looked at Sirius. “I guess? I didn’t ask, didn’t think it mattered.”

Sirius diverted his attention to opening his book to the right page, eager to change the subject now that Remus was looking at him weird.

You and James returned in a week, arriving back to the castle early enough in the day to catch the midday break and the second block of classes.

You walked down the hallway with your brother, who caught up to his friends and gave them all a greeting. You and Sirius locked eyes, and you immediately blushed and sped away.

“The fuck was that about?” James asked, picking up on your unusual behavior.

“Probably just all weirded out now that she’s seen Sirius’s dick,” Remus joked, bumping Sirius’s shoulder playfully. James’s eyes widened as he looked at Sirius.

“Pardon?”

“It’s nothing, mate, she just walked in on me right before you guys left,” Sirius explained, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“What’s the big deal?” Sirius responded.

James took a deep breath. “Can you just, like, keep your distance?”

“What, from your sister?” Sirius asked for clarification.

“Yeah, from my sister,” James half-spat, “you can’t truly be so thick, Sirius. You know she likes you.”

He did not know.

James continued, “I love you, mate, but please not her. Seriously. Fuck around with whoever you want, just not my little sister. Anyone else.”

Sirius understood. “Who said I wanted to fuck your sister anyways?”

His phrasing only bothered James more. “I’m not kidding, Sirius. Not my little sister.”

Sirius threw his hands up. “Okay, jeez, I get it, I’ll keep my distance.”

When you were seventeen and he was nineteen, you met your first real boyfriend.

Evan was your age, a fact that thrilled James. You began to spend most of your time together, and you invited him to tag along to your brother’s extravagant New Year’s party.

When the clock struck midnight on January 1st, Evan wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you, a move that turned your relationship from friendly but flirty to something much more. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you smiled as you pulled away, giving him another small kiss before he released your body from his own to grab the shot glass being handed to him by his friends.

You laughed as you watched him nearly choke on the shot. In a daze of laughter, your eyes caught Sirius, who was leaning against an empty doorframe across the room, drinking from a bottle and staring directly at you. You maintained eye contact for a moment, waiting to see if he would give you any sort of visual explanation as to why he was looking at you, but he didn’t move.

You still liked him, sure, but you liked Evan, too, and it had been six years. You couldn’t just pine after your brother’s best friend forever and not explore the perfectly good option directly in front of you.

In March, you gave your virginity to Evan. He was kind, and you were sure you were ready.

Sirius was acting weird around you, always finding an exit the moment you entered a conversation or a room he was in. You confronted James about it, and got into a rather heated argument about how James had no right to tell Sirius to stay away from you.

In June, James and your parents officially invited Sirius to live with you for the summer. It was brutal; Sirius was always around.

You would sneak into the kitchen first thing in the morning to make coffee the way you liked it, before anyone else could get their hands on the pot, and Sirius would be there. You would go to brush your teeth before bed, and Sirius would be brushing his hair in the bathroom mirror.

The worst part: Sirius spent most days poolside. Shirtless.

He enjoyed lounging out in the sun after a good swim, the water making his body glisten in the natural light as he adjusted his sunglasses, his dark hair slicked back from the wetness.

You stared at him from your second story window, admiring just how beautiful he truly was. He was so effortlessly perfect.

You considered joining him outside several times, but knew you would only be doing it so wear a bathing suit around him and hopefully tease him, if you even had the power to do so, and that wasn’t fair to Evan, but what the hell, it was your pool anyway.

You put on your bathing suit, draping a towel over your arm as you stepped outside, snapping Sirius out of his thoughts as he turned to you.

“Mind if I join?” you asked, slowly stepping into the water.

“It’s your house,” Sirius responded.

You swam a few laps before leaving the water, making a show of drying off your hair. Sirius kept his sunglasses on so that you couldn’t see him watch you, careful to heed James’s request to keep his distance from you, but he couldn’t help himself, you looked too good wet.

In October, you and Evan broke up. He was beginning to run with a crowd you didn’t want anything to do with, and you were gradually growing apart.

When you were eighteen and he was twenty, the Marauders hosted another party in honor of Peter’s twenty-first birthday. They were all staying at the unoccupied house of a mutual friend, and had more than enough space to go all out for the occasion. James invited you, having grown to appreciate you as a friend as you two got older.

“What a fucking dress,” Sirius said, leaning his back on the wall next to you.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to say shit like that to me?” you said, lightheartedly.

“Then don’t dress like that,” he said, eyes scanning up and down your body.

You blushed and dropped your head to hide it.

“Can you meet me upstairs in five?” Sirius asked.

You nodded your head yes without a second thought, giving him ample time to get upstairs alone before you left, so as not to raise suspicion. Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

You didn’t know what room he was in, having not thought that far ahead when he asked for you to meet him, so you lightly rapped your knuckles on every door until Sirius opened one, pulling you inside and softly clicking the door shut behind you.

“What’s up?” you asked, innocently.

Sirius smiled at you. “You’re not seriously asking me that.”

You were dumbfounded. There was no way Sirius called you up here for the reason you hoped he did. Absolutely no way.

“You like me, don’t you?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“What? No, Sirius, why are you even-“

“You’re a big girl now, Y/N, we aren’t ten anymore. You have to tell me what you want.”

You swallowed back your nerves. “James is right downstairs.”

Sirius stepped even closer to you, grabbing your waist with his hand, “James doesn’t ever have to know.”

You gazed up at him. “I just-“ your voice trailed off. You didn’t know what to say.

“You want me?” Sirius asked, dipping his head to meet your lowered gaze.

“Maybe,” you giggled.

Sirius smiled, leaning back slightly to look you up and down, “cus I want you.”

You sighed and smiled due to your nervousness. “You never wanted me before.”

“Not true,” Sirius immediately defended himself, “the second I started to show it, your idiot brother made me promise to stay away from you.”

“What changed?”

“This dress, for starters,” he answered, “and the fact that James got wasted about forty minutes ago and is probably passed out by the pool right now. I can never get you alone.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was like nine.”

“When we met over the holiday, right?” Sirius replied.

You looked at him in amazement. “How did you know that?”

“I was there, silly,” he teased, “and because I remember those things. James didn’t actually introduce us, but you still smiled at me.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you spoke in disbelief, causing Sirius to smile.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” he pleaded, pulling your hips against his and planting a few soft kisses on the side of your neck.

“But what if James-“

“Fuck James.”

You searched his eyes for any sign that he may have not meant what he said, but when you found none, you pulled him into a desperate kiss, anxious to taste him after years of wondering, reminiscing on the kiss you shared on a dare years earlier.

It was better than you could have imagined, his lips moving perfectly in sync with yours as his hands needily grabbed at your hips.

Your hand remained on the back of his head, nervous that without holding him against you, Sirius would pull away. All you wanted was to continue kissing him, forever.

He broke away from you to pepper kisses down your jawline and then down your neck, sucking at a sweet spot about halfway down the length of your throat.

You let out a whimper at the feeling, and Sirius pulled away and looked at you. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, turning your head until you were looking directly at him.

“What?” you breathed out.

Sirius didn’t respond, he just continued to hold onto your jaw, forcing you to tilt your head upwards and give him more access to your neck. His hand moved from your jaw to the other side of your neck, anchoring himself as he sucked and kissed the now bruised skin on your neck. You let out a high pitched whine, and he growled into your neck at the sound.

Each time you made a small noise, Sirius sucked harder, desperate to pull more and more sounds from you.

Sirius backed you up as he kissed you, taking small steps until your back hit the wall, allowing Sirius to pull away and press his body against yours. He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard, pressing his hips into yours and eliciting a moan from you as he began to grind into you.

He pulled back to look into your eyes, watching your body jolt slightly upwards each time he pressed his hips into yours.

“You remember when we kissed during truth or dare?” Sirius asked.

“Mhm,” you responded, breathy.

“I went back that night and touched myself thinking about it,” he told you, one of his hands finding its way to your throat, “thinking about you.”

The confession combined with the feeling of his clothed cock against your clit made you moan. You weren’t aware Sirius ever saw you the way you saw him.

You blushed, but Sirius wasn’t done taunting you. “Have you ever touched yourself and thought of me?”

Your cheeks only turned more red. “I- I-“ you were too embarrassed to answer.

“Tell me,” he demanded, holding your throat against the wall, his breath on your cheek, “or did Evan take good enough care of you?”

You nodded your head no, eager to appease him. “I- I thought of you when I did stuff, even when I was with him.”

Sirius growled at your confession. “Naughty little thing.”

Sirius hoisted one of your legs up to his waist, causing your dress to raise and bunch at your waistline, allowing Sirius access to your most sensitive area.

He ran a finger over your underwear, feeling the wetness soak through. Your back arched from his touch, your lips parting as Sirius ran his finger along the seam, slowly dipping his hand to run his finger between your folds.

“You’re so wet for me,” Sirius cooed, circling his finger around your clit.

You anchored yourself on his shoulders. Sirius’s eyes never left yours as he moved his fingers faster and faster, watching your back arch and your body react to his touch.

He slowly inserted two fingers into your soaking wet hole, setting a slow pace as he fucked you with his fingers.

He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that particularly good spot within your walls, causing your legs to shake a little.

“Shit,” you whined, your head slamming against the wall the moment you threw it back. Sirius picked up the pace, watching your eyebrows crease in pleasure.

It wasn’t your first time, and you usually lasted longer, but years and years of pent up lusting over Sirius were taking their toll on you. “Sirius, fuck, I-“

“Aweh, gonna come for me already, doll? You like me that much?” Sirius teased.

“Y-yes,” you cried out.

Sirius sped up his actions even further, your climax hitting you as Sirius kissed you to swallow your moans. He pulled his fingers out of you after you came down from your high, locking eyes with you as he sucked your juices off of them. It was the most erotic thing you’d ever seen.

You began to slowly sink down against the wall, but Sirius grabbed your arms and pulled you back up. “Not today,” he stated.

“But-“

“But nothing,” he cut you off, “tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Don’t worry about me.”

“But what if I want to worry about-“

“Y/N, shut up.”

“I-“

“You’ve spent ages giving your attention to me. Let me repay the favor.”

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Now tell me what you want.”

You were embarrassed, and aroused by the dominance you had always daydreamed Sirius had in the bedroom. Looking up at him, him standing over you and demanding you tell him what you want, made you feel like the little girl that was so in awe of him the very first time you saw him.

“I want you,” you spoke.

Sirius smiled. “Good girl, but that’s not enough.”

“Please don’t make me say it,” you begged.

Sirius only looked at you expectantly, as if to say that he was, indeed, going to make you say it. You took a deep breath, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You were in the brink of having Sirius the way you had always wanted, and you were not going to let yourself get in your own way.

“I want you to fuck me, Sirius. Please.”

Sirius growled and pulled you over to the bed, pushing you down and crawling over you.

He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist, pulling your underwear down your legs and slapping your core. You jolted upward and gasped at the sudden pain.

Sirius unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them, along with his boxers, down. He ran a hand up and down the length of his shaft, poking the head of his cock through your folds.

You whimpered are the contact, and Sirius threw his head back, moving his cock through your folds and allowing for your wetness to lubricate him. The feeling was heavenly, but you needed more.

“Siri-“

The nickname almost drove him into a frenzy. You had never heard anyone call him that, it just came out. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them both above your head with one hand as the other lined his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck, keep calling me that.”

“Siri, please,” you begged, the anticipation nearly killing you.

Sirius gave you a wicked smile, pushing his cock into you until he bottomed out. Your back arched at the sensation, and Sirius took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you flush against him.

“Sirius, shit,” you whimpered. The angle was overwhelming.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sirius whispered, his voice breathy as he began to push and pull in and out of you. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his black hair falling into his face.

Sirius maintained a steady pace for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size.

Sirius was putting even more pressure on your wrists with each thrust, leaning his weight onto them as he tried to maintain self control, but you felt so fucking good underneath him. You could see him struggling, trying to keep the slower pace for your sake, but that’s not what you wanted either.

“Siri,” you said, catching his attention as he lifted his head to meet your gaze, “harder.”

“You sure?” he checked.

“Fuck me, Siri, please.”

Your begging was enough for him to let his self control go, pulling your waist even closer to him (and subsequently even higher) as he picked up the pace, snapping his hips against yours with each violent thrust. Sirius let go of your wrists to hold his weight up with an arm next to your head.

He kissed your neck, sucking on a sweet spot just below your earlobe. You whined and moaned, completely wound up in the pleasure you had touched yourself thinking about for so long. You had a crush on Sirius for forever, and finally getting to feel him inside of you, holding you, grunting in your ear, kissing down your neck-

You began to squeeze Sirius’s cock, your second orgasm approaching rapidly as your brain reminded itself how long you had wanted this. The feeling only made Sirius more feral, his thrusts becoming harder and his pubic bone hitting your clit with each snap of his hips.

“Sirius, I- I’m-“

“Fuck yes come for me,” Sirius said, fucking you as hard as he possible could.

You came with a loud cry of his name, your thighs shaking as you squeezed around Sirius’s cock.

The feeling was nearly too much for him, but he was determined not to let go yet. He slowed his pace to an excruciatingly slow push and pull as you rode out your high, giving you time to breathe before he started to fuck into you again.

Your body was convulsing beneath him, your juices coating his cock and allowing for even more lubrication, and you could hear the wetness with each hit of his hips.

You were overstimulated, and therefore no longer in control of the high pitched noises leaving your lips, egging Sirius on even more. You were on the brink of crying, it felt so good, and when Sirius heard a cry-like crack in your voice, he rutted his hips into you a final few times before he pulled out of you, cursing as he spilled his seed onto your stomach.

He took a moment to collect himself, pressing his forehead against yours as you both calmed your breathing. He then rolled over to lay down next to you. You turned to face one another, and you began to run your fingers through his hair, twirling a face-framing strand around your pointer as he smiled at you.

You were pulled out of your daze when there was a violent rapping against the door. “Pads! You in there? Open up.”

James.

You scrambled to stand and fix your hair, pulling your dress down and doing your best to keep quiet.

“Whatcha want?” Sirius called back. You glared daggers his direction for responding. “How is he even still standing?” Sirius whispered to you, referencing how drunk James had been earlier.

“You gotta come see this,” James responded, opening the door slightly. You ran behind the door, trying to hide from your brother and hoping he wouldn’t fully enter the room. “Are you at least a little decent? Who you got in here?” James didn’t have a care in the world when he was drunk.

Sirius ran up to the door, a blanket in the hand he held over his bottom half to cover himself. He grabbed the door and prevented James from opening it any further. “No one, what are you tryna show me?”

“At least put pants on,” James said, turning his back to the doorway, “I’ll be out here. Christ, Pads.”

Sirius shut the door, rushing to the bed to find his clothes and cover himself before re-approaching the door. He leaned over to you, giving you a genuine smile before placing a sweet, intimate kiss on your lips. He pulled away and you exchanged a glance, your cheeks red and a smile on your face, before Sirius opened the door and left the room.

[ohtobeleah]

Day Two: [An Angels Discretion]

Summary: When Bradley gets a call to say you’ve been involved in a major car accident, his whole world is turned upside down.

Warnings: Death, Bradley Bradshaw x wifeF!reader. Car Accident. Injuries sustained from a car accident. Pregnancy, Bradley in a state of existential crisis. Premature birth. Hurt/comfort. Goose cameo.

Whumptober Prompt Day Two: Unfortunate Fall, Car Accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

Word Count: 4.4k

Author Note: THIS IS AN ALTERNATE ENDING TO AN ANGELS DISCRETION ~ Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptoberfor this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It felt like time stood still yet had sped up all at the same time. Your entire world had been flipped on its head in the blink of an eye—you felt like your entire life was flashing before your eyes. A Rolodex of memories played out before you as you spun out and rolled down into the embankment. You didn’t know exactly how it happened or why it happened - but regardless of that, it still very much happened and you were still very much in trouble. 

It had been god-awful weather recently, so much so the Daggers had been grounded for the better half of a week. Bradley had been home for a change, pottering around the house baby-proofing sharp edges and making sure the crib was set up just like the instruction book had said. 

It seemed that people truly believed that the car you were trapped in for nearly half an hour had flipped and rolled hours ago. An empty mangled car on the side of the road—nobody stopped to see if there were any occupants. Nobody stopped to snoop. Nobody heard your cries— the cries of a woman in unimaginable pain. Hoping, praying, as you remained helplessly tangled in your seat belt. You had blood gushing from wounds you didn’t know what exactly had been caused by and had bones that shattered from impact. 

“Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

You stayed there, trapped in a mess of broken glass and twisted aluminium, whimpering as you rubbed your swollen belly. Seven months. Seven beautiful months carrying your child. Bradley’s daughter. You’d spent seven months promising to keep her safe - keep her sound. You didn’t know the gender but the feeling was there and it was strong, you were having a little baby girl. 

Bradley wanted to keep the gender a surprise, but you knew deep down with every fibre of your being that you were having a girl, that he’d be a girl dad till his dying day. But as you slowly brought your hand up to cup over your belly button? You knew something was utterly wrong.

“We’re okay, aren’t we spud.” You mumbled as your vision blurred and your head became far too heavy for you to keep it lifted. “Mama’s gonna take ca-care of you.” You struggled out before succumbing to the feeling of emptiness as you drifted into unconsciousness—the sound of your shattered phone playing your doting husband's ringtone. Replay by Iyaz. One final smile appeared on your bloodied broken face as you heard the all too familiar sound. 

Before.....nothing. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Baby seats shouldn’t be this complicated to fit!” Bradley groaned as he tried to figure out how to secure the baby seat into the backseat of the Bronco. Jake was too busy trying to reread the instructions. “Nope, I can’t do this right now I need a break.” The pair of naval aviators had been off work for the better half of the week and while you were out grocery shopping, Jake had come over to lend a helping hand at putting together some flat-pack furniture. “Good thing this baby isn’t coming for another few months.” 

“Ah, you’ve jinxed it now!” Jake teased, clicking his fingers at Bradley to grab his attention. “Also, apparently it’s meant to face the other way round.” Jake grinned ear to ear as Bradley deadpanned him. Giving up in entirety before he turned back to the house with a huff. “Oh come on! Where are you going, Rooster? we almost had it!” Jake laughed, jogging after his wingman up to the house. 

“I need a beer!” It had been a long afternoon for the two men who had done nothing but unpack and organise the nursery. Bradley was in his own nesting phase. He’d read in a bunch of parents’ books that nesting was something you’d go through in preparation for the little spud on the way. He was now finding that he was doing it too. 

“Oh, I’ll take one too.” Jake trailed behind Rooster into the kitchen. “Job well done deserves a bevy.” Just as Bradley opened the fridge and passed Jake the Budweiser, his phone began to ring out on the kitchen counter. “Oh—unknown number man,” Jake announced. 

“It’s probably Y/n.” Bradley twirled his wedding band as he stood to answer his phone that was sitting on the kitchen bench, not recognising the number lighting up his screen. For a moment he wasn’t going to answer because why would you be calling from an unknown number? But he just had a gut feeling. He’d called you a few times beforehand but you never answered, maybe this was you calling him back? 

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” A woman who sounded more panicked than calm spoke—needing a confirmation before continuing with her call. 

“This is he?” Bradley responded, turning back to Jake with a confused look on his face, eyes glancing up at the time. Five thirty in the afternoon. You should have been home an hour ago. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’ve just had a one Y/n Bradshaw admitted.” The woman on the other end of the phone call Bradley almost didn’t answer, explained. “Your wife, she’s unfortunately been involved in a severe accident and—“ Bradley didn’t hear the rest of what the nurse had to say as he dropped his phone, it clunked and clambered from the kitchen bench to the tiled floor below. “Hello? Mr Bradshaw?” Unable to process the news he’d just been told Bradley began to panic as his vision tunnelled and his mind went numb. 

“Jake—“ Was it Bradley’s fault? Was he a terrible husband for not noticing how long you’d been gone? Was there something wrong with your car? You’d mentioned a time or two that the air conditioning had been making a funny noise. “Jake I can’t breathe—“ Bradley clutched at his chest as he groaned, it felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. “I can’t fucking breathe.” 

“Oh-okay, yeah we’re leaving right now,” Jake confirmed as he spoke to the lady on the phone. Hangman had picked up the phone Rooster had dropped, he listened to what the woman on the other end of the line had to say as Bradley started to sob, losing his grip on reality. 

Jake reached out to touch Bradley’s shoulder in an attempt to confront the aviator whose world had just shattered into a million pieces, the moment he did though Jake Seresin witnessed his best friend collapse down to his knees in unimaginable pain at the thought of losing you. His girl. His wife. His best friend. The love of his life. The mother of...oh god the mother of his child. 

“Rooster we gotta g—“

“I can’t lose her!!” Bradley screamed as warm tears drenched his flushed face. “Can’t—won't lose her. I can’t!” Jake knew Bradley was hyperventilating, he’d seen a panic attack a time or two before when Bob had stayed in his spare room while his house was being painted. Jake also knew a panic attack when he saw one because he got them too. But this? This was a panic attack shrouded in heartache, one Jake would never understand. 

“Hey, hey Rooster.” Jake crouched down before his wingman— knowing he needed all the strength he could get. On the inside, Jake was a mess. If Bradley lost you that meant Jake lost you too. Holding the back of Bradley’s head as he leaned in. “Listen, man, this is so fucked up but she needs you, Y/n needs you to be there for her because she can’t do this alone? Alright? We gotta go— you’re her husband Rooster.” Jake reminded him. “Y/n needs her husband to be there for her okay? In sickness and in health you promised her.” 

Bradley sobbed uncontrollably—but he got up. Knowing Hangman was right. You needed him, and like fuck was he gonna let you slip through his fingers. 

“Okay, okay let’s go.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It’s needless to say Bradley Bradshaw was a mess—a sobbing, shaking, totally exhausted figment of his former stoic self in the private waiting room nurses had told him to wait in. Jake contacted your mum and dad, he called Mav and Penny too who were already on their way over to the Miramar Base Hospital because hell was Mav somewhat sob going to go through this alone. 

“We don’t know what’s going on.” Bradley could just faintly hear Jake on the phone with Phoenix as he sat and twisted his wedding band around his ring finger. It kept him grounded but the tangible reminder of your love did nothing to stop Rooster's mind from thinking of the very worst. 

“We haven’t been told a single thing—“ Jake sighed as he ran his hand through his sun-kissed hair locks. “No, no he’s not in a good way.” 

Bradley could hear only Jake's voice and only his answers. But he knew Phoenix would be going stir-crazy not knowing what had happened or what was going on, they all would be. Every single member of Bradley’s naval squadron had become like family to you both. Extensions on the small albeit perfect family you were just starting. 

Bradley thought he knew heartbreak, thought he’d been through pain. He’d lost his dad when he was just shy of three years old and his mother just after his seventh birthday. But nothing—nothing, compared to the heartache of not knowing what was happening to you. If you were alive if your baby was okay? If Rooster had just lost his young family before it had a chance to grow old. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” An older-looking woman in scrubs asked as she knocked. Both Bradley and Jake looked up—both just as desperate for answers. “Hi,” She cooed. “My names Jannette, I’ve been with your wife since she came in—“

“H-how is she?” Bradley could barely speak at this point, he was too afraid to know but needed answers. Although he’d stood from the chair he’d been perched in he still twirled his wedding band around his finger. He still needed that tangible reminder. You loved him, no matter what the outcome was you would always love him. To the moon and back and twice over you’d say before he left for deployments. 

In all Bradley’s years, he always thought he’d be the one leaving you behind—he never once thought his wife who cut and arranged flowers for a living would leave him, the naval aviator who flew super hornets for a living. But here he stood in some twisted parallel universe that felt like a plot ripped straight from an episode of The Twilight Zone. 

“She’s critical, my colleagues are still working on her as we speak.” The room went silent as Bradley forgot how to breathe. Jake was by his side in seconds. “It's touch and go.” 

“My baby? How’s my baby?” If anything mattered to you, it was your unborn child. Bradley knew if anything happened to them that you'd never forgive yourself. You’d rather die than live a life without your baby. You’d done everything in your power to make sure they had the best chance of being strong healthy and safe. You’d been the perfect mother. 

“She” The nurse smiled. “Is okay, we did, however, have to do an emergency c-section because your wife was unfortunately not able to carry her to full turn due to her uterus filling with blood.” It was a whirlwind of emotions. Bradley Bradshaw was suddenly a father, he had a baby girl. 

“Rooster, you have a little girl.” Jake helped Bradley take a few agonising steps as he took in the news. You’d given him a baby girl. A tiny little you. How could he ever thank you enough? How could he ever begin to repay that debt of gratitude, of love? 

“You can see her if you’d like? She’s in the NICU.” Jannette explained. “But you won’t be able to touch her without protection until she’s used to the new environment, premature babies can catch infections and colds despite our best efforts, so it’s best she says in the incubation chamber.”

“C’mon Bradshaw, let's go meet your little girl, yeah? You know Y/n wouldn’t want her left alone.” Jake was right. Bradley could hear everything going on around him but he couldn’t speak. He was still taking all this in. He was a dad, a girl dad. He was the father to your daughter and you weren’t here to see him start this new chapter. 

God, it was bittersweet. 

“When will I know how my wife is?” Bradley asked as he followed the nurse he towered over—she had a little waddle that Jake couldn’t help but notice. 

“You’ll be the first to know her updated condition, Lieutenant, but from what I’ve seen so far your wife is one hell of a fighter, not a lot of people in her condition would’ve come out of that alive.”

Braduheld onto that tiny shred of hope, clung to it for dear life as he followed the nurse to meet his baby’s girl—way too early. How do you introduce yourself to a baby? Jake was right beside him. Do you think Jake Seresin would ever let his wingman walk alone through such a tragedy? 

Absolutely not. 

“Bradley, this is your daughter, obviously she doesn’t have a name so we called her Jane as protocol - short for Jane Doe.” The little girl was so incredibly tiny. She was dwarfed by wires and tubes connected all over her tiny body helping her little lungs breathe. Bradley couldn’t distinguish if she looked more like you or him. But fuck he wished she looked like you. He took a seat next to the incubator that held his bundle of joy. The joy he’d been blessed with by you. The joy and light of his world he’d helped create, a blend of you and him. 

“H-hey little one.” Rooster struggled to talk. “I’m your Dadda, your mums in a little bit of a situation right now but I’ve got you yeah?” Tears ran down Bradley’s face as he placed a fingertip against the glass. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, ever.” 

Rooster always said he’d never love anyone more than he’d love you—but this little girl? God, she was already Bradley’s entire fucking world. For a single second, he forgot you were in surgery. Watching as your daughter's tiny lips curled into a soft smile for a mere second. Bradley liked to think it was her acknowledging his presence. 

“Bradley?” Jannette interrupted, Bradley had forgotten all sense of time as he sat with his baby girl. “It’s your wife—she’s stable, sleeping but stable. She’s being moved to the ICU for around-the-clock observation.”

“When can I Uh, when can I see her?” Bradley let out a sob as he thanked the heavens above, his little family was okay—not great, not thriving with heath, but okay. Stable. Jake finally allowed himself to breathe for the first time all night. 

“We can go up there if you like?” Bradley nodded in response—looking over at Jake who already knew what his wingman was about to ask. 

“I’ll stay here, keep her company, go get your girl Rooster.” Jake hugged Bradley as tight as he ever had before. “You’re a dad man, congratulations.” Being the big brother Bradley needed but didn’t have. “I got you brother.”

Bradley didn’t know what to do when he first saw you—he stood at the doorway just staring at the woman who had given him everything. So injured, so hurt. And he couldn’t do anything to help ease your pain. Even through all the injuries, tubs and wires, much like the little girl you gave precious life to, you still look beautiful. So gorgeous, so at peace. 

A soft “oh god” escaped Bradley’s mouth as he held back sobs walking towards you. Nurse Jannette giving him the space he so desperately needed with you. Bradley took in the sight before him. His beautiful wife, the mother of his daughter, lying so lifeless in a hospital bed. He wished so badly you could be at home with him right now, tangled in the warm sheets, smiling and being your “happy-go-lucky” self instead of here. He wished so badly he could take you anywhere else in the world. 

Anywhere but here—like this. 

“Hey beautiful,” Bradley whispered. Biting his bottom lip to stop himself from breaking down for what felt like the one hundredth time tonight. “You don’t know it yet but you’re a mama, and dammit baby you’ll be the best fucking mum on earth.” Bradley grabbed the nearby seat and pulled it close. Once his hand was in yours there was no place else Rooster wanted to be than right by your side. Although he wished the two of you could be anywhere else together. 

“You’re gonna be okay baby, maybe not today or next week? But you’ll be okay. I won’t let you be anything but okay.” Bradley mumbled through soft sobs as he took notice of every injury that plagued your body. Every cut, stitch, wrap and blood-stained patch that littered the soft and supple skin he loved so much. Bradley especially noticed the gash on your cheek—stitched. 

As Rooster sat with you, he could see your eyelids moving. He knew you were conscious, just sleeping. Heavily medicated, he knew you could hear every word he spoke. But soon Bradley Bradshaw watched in awe as you placed your hand over your stomach. Checking to see if your little spud was alright. When you noticed how small your stomach felt you moaned. 

“My—my baby?” Your eyes weren’t even open yet and you already knew something was terribly wrong. Even if your entire body was in agonising pain you needed to make sure your baby was alright. 

“Hey shh, shh, shh, I got you.” Bradley cooed, his hand gently reaching out to cup your cheek—the side without any noticeable injuries that would bring you discomfort. “She’s alright mama, she’s here a little early but she’s okay—j-just like you yeah.” 

“She?” Your eyes opened slowly at the sound of your husband’s voice—your neck killed as you turned to face him. Giving up quickly. Bradley was quick to notice the wince you let out. 

“She mama, our little girl. Both of my girls gave me a pretty big heart attack this afternoon huh? Are you trying to kill me, honey?” Bradley smiled. Noticing how you smiled back for a brief moment before the muscles in your cheeks gave up. 

“I’m so sorry” You whispered—eyes closed again as you couldn’t stand the light of the room. “I don’t know what happened— no one came though.” You started to cry. “No one came when I called for help for so long.” Bradley leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m here, I came, I’m not going anywhere my love.” Rooster sobbed back, sometimes being strong meant crying along with the ones you love. “God, I thought I lost you.” 

“He said it wasn’t my time to go.” You sighed, clearly fighting off the urge to fall asleep. So groggy from the medicine that even the thought of being a mother hadn’t truly set in yet—all you cared about was that your baby was safe. She was alive. 

“Who did bub? One of the paramedics?” Bradley asked, a little confused as he pushed some hair away from your face and made sure the oxygen tube was sitting just right. 

“He was in the car, said I couldn’t leave you yet, that you’d be lost without me.” You softly grinned while your eyes rested. “Had a moustache just like yours.” 

Bradley sat back in shock as he watched you drift back to sleep. Holding your hand thinking how the universe worked in mysterious ways. Bradley had promised to love you in good times and in bad - through sickness and in health. He’d live in the damn hospital if he had to—anything to be by your side. 

“God I hate it when he does this.” Goose groaned as he watched his son’s name appear on the shattered phone on the floor of your busted-up car. “You’re not ready, it’s not your time so why bother even putting you through this crap.” The man spoke as you fell unconscious. “It’s not your time my dear and my son certainly needs you by his side or he’ll go crazy.” You listened, tried to nod, smile, anything to let him know you heard him. “You’ll be alright kid.”

Bradley Bradshaw had his family. He had his daughter, he had you. Going back and forth with Jake from room to room watching as both his girls slept. Both of you were still so unaware of the turmoil Bradley had been through. He nearly lost you. Without you? Bradley would’ve been helpless. 

But someone watching over him knew that as well as he did. A guardian angel not only watched over him....

But over his girls too.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Life always seems to be far too good at throwing unexpected curve balls at unsuspecting victims. It has a way of being able to knock the wind from your lungs all the while ripping your heart from your chest. Unimaginable pain and sorrow seemed to be the universe's favourite seasoning. Like msg or garlic salt. Whatever God or deity that was at the wheel needed its kicks, needed that morning fix of watching its human puppets experience the worst of what the world had to offer. It needed that rush of adrenaline while watching those who trained in medicine try to solve the issues occurring in your hospital room. 

Like ants, they watched everyone rush around as all kinds of bells and whistles rang out in the early morning. The sun had yet to kiss the horizon, you had taken a dramatic turn. And while you stood by the edge of your hospital bed watching doctors and nurses alike try to bring you back from the precipice of death, you knew this was it. 

“The worst part about it is the people we leave behind, my dear,” Goose, Bradley’s late father explained as he stood beside you. You could only describe him as your guardian angel, a guiding light through this experience. He’d already tried his best to keep on in the living realm for the sake of his son who’d already lost too much. But unfortunately, it seemed as though it may have been your time after all. 

“Am I dying?” You asked softly as you watched the team of medical professionals try everything in their power to bring you back. “I thought–” Your voice broke as tears began to stream down your face. “I thought I was fine, they said I was fine?” 

“Sometimes it just doesn’t go according to plan, my dear.” Goose sighed as he watched with you. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to watch. His son’s greatest love was dying right before him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“What about Bradley, my little girl? What are they supposed to do without me?” You asked as the panic set in. No. this couldn’t be happening. Things like this don’t happen to good people, right? “No, no I don’t accept this, I need to go back!” You cried out as you tried to move forward. Goose tried his best to stop you, but you were quick to shrug him off. “I need to go back, no no no no no–” 

“I know it’s hard Y/n,” Goose tried his best to give you the comfort you so desperately needed right now. “But if it’s your time, then it’s your time, we have to accept that it’s a part of the plan.” 

“Well FUCK the plan!” You shouted as you turned back to your husband’s dad. “I’m not dying on him, or my baby girl! I won’t do that to them! Not now! I can’t, I can’t do that to him please!” 

“Time of death–” Everything went quiet. The room felt so still like not a person in the room was breathing or thinking a single thought. “03:24 am” 

“No!!!” You fell to your knees in utter agony as you watched yourself lying lifeless in that damn hospital bed. “Bradley–” You sobbed as you felt an ache in your heart you’d never felt before. “No–” 

“I’m so sorry my dear,” Goose held back his own tears as he watched on. He knew what this agony felt like, the pain of feeling like you let the love of your life down. “I’ve got you–” 

“My baby girl–” It was hard to hear, the turmoil of grief set in, but Goose knew this was all a part of the process. Time would hopefully heal the wounds of death and one day, soon enough, the three of you would be reunited. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

It was the most heartbreaking to bear witness to. You couldn’t leave without seeing Bradley, without seeing your husband. No one was expecting you to take such a dramatic turn so quickly. The doctors and nurses who had worked tirelessly to save your life thought you had a fighting chance. But as fate would have it, he had other, more heartbreaking plans for you. 

“It’s okay little one–” Bradley sobbed as he softly played with his baby girl’s tiny hand through the glass of the NICU bassinet. “I’ve got you.”

You weren’t ever sure if those words would stop echoing through your husband’s mind. The words that changed his life forever, the words that made him feel like his mother did when she had lost his father. The words he would remember throughout this lifetime and the next. 

“Unfortunately Mr Bradshaw, your wife didn’t make it through the night.” Bradley had been with your daughter when it all happened. That’s where you wanted him to be.  

“We’re gonna be alright, mum would want us to be okay,” Rooster cooed as he watched the tears that he cried splatter against the glass. “I’ve got you for this lifetime baby girl,” 

“I’m right here Roo–” You sobbed as you watched your little family begin their life without you. Goose stood right by the door, he knew you would come, just not right now. “I’m right here.” As you reached out to touch your husband’s cheek, he felt a cool breeze against him, and he knew.

“Mamma loves you so much beautiful girl.”

******************************

[moonsandmobilityaids]

The Beginning

Pairings: poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: The boys have something to discuss with you. Warnings: mentions of chronic pain Series Masterlist

You've always taken pride in being a Gryffindor, even if your experience at Hogwarts has been different from most. The grand staircases are a sight to behold, but hardly practical for someone who relies on wheels to move about. Thankfully, the enchantment on your wheelchair allows you to navigate the larger flights with ease, levitating over each step like a feather caught on the wind. But the narrow spiral stairs leading to the dormitories remain a barrier that magic has yet to overcome.

And so, nestled away from the dorms, connected to the Gryffindor common room by a hidden door behind a portrait of Godric Gryffindor, is your sanctuary—a small, cosy accessible room created just for you. Its doorways are wide enough for your chair to pass through unimpeded, and shelves filled with books and curiosities slide up and down the walls at a wave of your wand, always within reach. A fireplace crackles in the corner, its flames dancing merrily, not just for show but enchanted to respond to your presence, ensuring you're never too cold or too hot.

Even so, the comfort of your space sometimes feels like an isolating divide, widening the gap between you and the other Gryffindors. You hear their laughter echo down the halls, a reminder of the camaraderie that defines your house, and it's easy to feel forgotten when your room exists separate from theirs.

But you are never truly alone. Sirius, Remus, and James are always there, their voices a constant companion in your mind. They've seen the world outside of Hogwarts, experienced the joys and pains of life beyond these ancient walls, and they offer wisdom and friendship when you need it most.

The fire flickers low in your room this evening, casting warm, dancing shadows across the wooden beams overhead and the soft blankets draped over your bed. You sit by the window, gazing out into the night as the familiar ache of your condition pulses through you—a reminder that even within these walls, filled with magic and wonder, some things remain untouched by spells and potions.

A gentle rap at the door pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn your head, shifting slightly as your body protests the movement.

"Come in," you call, your voice a soft whisper against the quietude.

The door creaks open, and Remus Lupin steps inside, his eyes meeting yours with an understanding that goes beyond words. Seeing him there, a beacon amidst the encroaching shadows, you feel a subtle lightening of the weight upon your chest. His presence, while it can't erase the pain, somehow makes it more bearable.

Behind him, Sirius Black and James Potter linger at the doorway, their postures casual but their expressions betraying their concern. There's warmth there too, a silent promise of companionship that seeps into the corners of the room, chasing away the chill of loneliness.

"Are you alright?" Remus's voice breaks the silence, his words a gentle breeze against the storm of your thoughts. He moves closer, his hand falling naturally to the back of your wheelchair as if it has always been there.

Your lips curve upward in a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach your eyes but serves its purpose all the same. "Just thinking," you reply, your gaze unfocused, lost somewhere between here and the memories that threaten to consume you.

"Uh oh, that's never good," Sirius teases, his grin a crooked line against the backdrop of concern etched into his features. He saunters over to your bed, collapsing onto it with an exaggerated sigh, the pillows protesting under his weight. James follows suit, albeit with more grace, settling himself next to Sirius.

Remus lets out an amused huff, his hand still resting on the back of your chair as though anchoring you to reality. You turn slightly, positioning yourself to face him more directly, the subtle shift in your body language inviting further conversation.

"Mind if we keep you company for a while?" James asks, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. There's a playfulness in his gaze, but it's tempered by a softness that speaks volumes of the bond shared between you.

"Always," you respond without hesitation. Their presence has been a constant source of comfort through the years, and tonight is no exception. The connection between you is tangible, a warmth that seems to grow with each passing moment.

It's more than friendship now—something deeper, unspoken yet undeniable. You feel it in the way your heart thrums at their proximity, in the ease of silence that falls when words are unnecessary.

Sirius pushes himself up from the bed, legs swinging over the side until his feet touch the floor. A teasing smirk plays on his lips as he meets your gaze. "We figured you'd be bored out of your mind cooped up in here alone. Your room could use a bit of... charm." He gestures to himself with a dramatic flourish, the smirk never leaving his face.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. "If that's what you're calling it."

James chuckles, nudging Sirius with an elbow. "Easy there, Pads. Don't want to scare our guest away with your overwhelming 'charm.'"

Sirius feigns a wounded expression, clutching his chest dramatically. "Prongs, you wound me! I am the very picture of charm and grace."

"And modesty," Remus adds dryly, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "Don't worry, he'll survive."

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep within, a welcome relief from the pain that has been your constant companion. "I don't doubt it."

These are the moments you cling to, the ones that make the darkness recede, if only for a little while. Even on days when your body aches with a ferocity potions can't fully quell, their presence is a balm. They don't treat you like you're made of glass, ready to shatter at any moment. Instead, they offer respect, care, and the kind of playful banter that is the hallmark of true Gryffindors.

But tonight is different. There's a charge in the air, unspoken yet palpable. It hangs heavy, a cloud threatening to burst, hinting at words left unsaid, thoughts unfinished.

Finally, James breaks the silence, his hand ruffling the already chaotic mess of his hair. "Look, we've been wanting to talk to you about something."

Your eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of interest sparking within them. "Go on," you prompt, leaning back in your chair.

Sirius shifts uncomfortably, glancing first at Remus and then at James. It's as if there's an unspoken agreement between them, a decision made in the space of a heartbeat about who should speak next. Remus lets out a quiet sigh, moving from his spot by the fireplace to kneel next to your chair. His gaze is steady, serious yet filled with a kindness that belies the gravity of his words.

"We've been giving it a lot of thought," he begins, his voice soft but firm. "About us... all of us."

Your breath catches. You think you know where this is going, but you can't bring yourself to interrupt, to voice the thought that's been stirring in the corners of your mind. Instead, you wait, silent and still, as the world outside continues its oblivious spin.

"We've always been close, you know that," Remus continues, his hand brushing yours where it rests on the arm of your chair. The contact is light, almost imperceptible, but it sends a jolt through you, electrifying the space between your skin and his. "But lately, it seems like... well, like there might be something more."

Sirius leans in then, his usual grin replaced by a look of intense seriousness. "We don't want to make things uncomfortable," he says, his grey eyes searching yours for any sign of unease. "But we need to know if you feel it too."

James, ever the bold one, leans forward as well, his voice barely more than a whisper yet carrying the weight of years' worth of emotions. "We care about you deeply. More than just friends. And we thought... perhaps you might feel the same?"

Your heart skips a beat, their words echoing the very thoughts you've been afraid to acknowledge, let alone voice. Warmth radiates from within you, spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes as you take in each of their expressions—Remus's soft smile, Sirius's hopeful eyes, James's earnest gaze.

"I do," you admit, the confession slipping past your lips before you can think to hold it back. "I have for a long time now."

Sirius exhales as if he's been holding his breath, the lines of tension easing from his face. He rises, crossing the room in two strides to crouch beside you. His arms encircle you in a gentle hug, mindful of the chair, of the pain that never quite leaves you.

James is there too, somehow managing to join the embrace without toppling the precarious balance. His hand rests heavy on your shoulder, an anchor against the storm of emotions threatening to capsize you. Remus watches with soft eyes, waiting until the others relent before offering his own gesture—a kiss pressed to your forehead, sweet and grounding.

"Part of me wondered," you say, your voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "With everything...the chair, the constant pain—"

"Shhh." Sirius cuts you off, his voice gentle but insistent. "We've never cared about that. We care about you—all of you. Not just the parts that are easy to love."

James nods, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a warmth that defies the chill outside. "You're brilliant just as you are, Y/N."

Once again, Remus's hand finds yours, the calloused pads of his fingers tracing reassuring patterns against your skin. "We're here for you, no matter what."

Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as your chest tightens. But this isn't the painful constriction of fear or sorrow—it's the swelling of a heart too full, brimming with the love and acceptance you've found within these walls.

"I love you guys," you whisper, the words carried away by the crackling fire.

Sirius smiles, a genuine expression that reaches his eyes. "And we love you, Y/N."

And just like that, the bond between the four of you solidifies, something stronger and deeper than you ever could have imagined. You aren’t just navigating life at Hogwarts anymore; you’re navigating it with them, together.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I would love to read more about the dynamic between poly!marauders and reader. Like maybe some domestic fluff just showing the interaction between the boys and with reader. I love the way you write true poly with the boys together too 🥹🤍

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Shit!” Sirius hisses, another piece of popcorn splintering off his string. It’s nearly all cranberries at this point, and half the length of either yours or Remus’. “How are yours not breaking?”

“Patience,” Remus preaches, eyes on his needle as he slides it smoothly through yet another popcorn kernel. 

“Sounds made up,” James scoffs. The remains of his own popcorn are littered about his lap and his fingers are stained pink with cranberry juice. His problems lie in inaccuracy as much as impatience, constantly getting ahead of himself and pricking his fingers rather than his target. Fortunately, Rugby Captain James Potter is no stranger to pain, so he only extends the injured finger towards where you sit on the floor for you to kiss each time before resuming his work. 

“Completely agree.” Sirius is quick to hop on James’ half-constructed bandwagon. “They’re conspiring against us, keeping the real secrets of success to themselves.” 

“They’re focussing on their work,” you say, grinning when Sirius’ foot nudges your shoulder meanly, “which is how they keep from messing up.” 

“Cruel,” he murmurs, but you only hum, a wordless You know I’m right. And he does, because he goes quiet. 

James could never stand silence. “It’s almost cold enough for a fire,” he remarks after nearly five seconds of it. “Maybe we could have one tomorrow?” 

“You just want to chop firewood,” Remus accuses. 

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands, and Sirius nods emphatically. Another piece of popcorn shatters in his hands, bits of it hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t deter him.” 

“I don’t even get to chop it anymore since you started buying it at Tesco,” James complains, shooting Remus a resentful look. “Now I just want to watch fire. It’s the last caveman’s pleasure you’ve left me.” 

You glance over, and Remus is looking downward, trying and failing to quell his smile. “Fine,” he relents. “We can pick some up tomorrow and have a fire.”

“Yes!” James leans around Sirius, planting a smacking kiss on Remus’ cheek. “Thank you.” 

“S’no problem.” Remus has gone all soft and blushy. You and Sirius exchange a fond, knowing look. 

“Hey, do you think we could pick up some of those gingerbread house kits while we’re there?” you ask the room. “We didn’t get a chance to do those last year.” 

“Patience,” Remus reminds you, recovering. “It’s hardly the end of November, we’ve got a whole month for that.” 

Your mouth pulls dissatisfiedly. “Yeah, but last year we thought the same thing and then we ran out of time.” 

“You know what we should do?” James perks up. “Have a competition! Whoever makes the best gingerbread house in under an hour gets—”

“No,” you all say on top of each other. 

You shake your head. “It’ll take all the fun out of it, Jamie.”

“You can’t put a time limit on creativity,” Sirius agrees. “Hey, I got three in a row!” He beams, holding his garland up for Remus’ approval, and the other boy appraises it for a second, nodding sagely. 

“Well done.” 

“Sorry,” you tell James, who’s still pouting after the hasty shut-down of his idea. “We can race at something else if you want to, but that sort of stuff is supposed to be more…”

“Peaceful,” Remus supplies, and you nod relievedly. 

“Exactly.” 

“S’fine,” James sulks. He sticks his needle through a cranberry, a pitiful whine escaping him when it comes out the other side harsher than he’d expected. He extends his hand toward you palm up, and you take it, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his finger. “Mm, now here.” He leans down, tapping the corner of his mouth. You smile, pecking him sweetly on the lips. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he uses this time of year, which you love and Sirius abhors (he thinks all mint tastes like toothpaste). “Alright,” James says, lips curving against yours, “now it’s actually fine.” 

“Scoundrel,” Sirius accuses. “My poor darling, do you feel used?” 

“Not terribly,” you admit, but it’s no deterrence to Sirius, who reaches down to haul you into his lap. Your garland trails after you, overlapping with his. You settle in contentedly. 

“Who’s the scoundrel now,” James objects. “You can’t just move her about like she’s got no will of her own.” 

You’re perfectly happy to be wherever they want you, but you aren’t going to say that. “Does anyone fancy a hot chocolate? I just got those peppermint marshmallows.” 

Sirius makes a face. “No thanks. James, make the girl a hot chocolate.” 

“Why me?” James objects. 

“I’ll have one too,” Remus says. 

“It’s her idea, why doesn’t she make them?”

“Because she,” Sirius says, weaving his arms under yours to resume stringing up his garland in front of you, “is occupied. Go on.” 

James grumbles, but sets down his work. 

“Sorry,” you say, making your eyes extra big. It’s half sincere apology, half completely unapologetic beguilement, and James cracks quickly, kissing your cheek to show he’s not really upset. Then he kisses Sirius too, just for fun. 

“I wanted a hot chocolate anyway,” he says, heading into the kitchen. 

You fall into an easy silence as he works, the kettle gurgling in the background while you relax against Sirius’ chest, nearly finished with your garland. You wonder if you should offer to do his for him, even though you know the other two will definitely make fun of you for letting him off the hook. You think you will anyway. 

“Oh!” Sirius straightens, causing you to shift against him uncomfortably. He ignores the slighted look you send him, bringing a hand to your shoulder to hold you more securely against him. You’re easily pacified. “If you want to have a competition, you and y/n should have a race for who can wrap the most presents.” He looks at you. “You’re always saying you love wrapping, yeah sweetheart?” 

The endearment only slightly softens the look you’re giving him. Must everyone try to ruin your holiday rituals with racing and competitions? You know he’s only brought it up out of selfishness, too; Sirius hates wrapping gifts, and this is just another way for him to push the labor off on James and you. 

James, unfortunately, lights brighter than the tree you’d set up earlier that day. “Yeah!” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remus eyes the boiling water he’s pouring out at the same time warily. “What do you say, lovie? Maybe a couple of days before Christmas we can divvy up the presents that aren’t for us, then we just see who finishes first!” 

“Didn’t you already lose that competition the other night?” Remus quips. Sirius erupts in laughter behind you, but James only shoots him a hostile look (or his version of a hostile look, more of a squint than anything) before his eyes flit back to you hopefully. 

You roll your eyes, but this is one competition you think you might actually win. “Fine,” you say, smiling when he pumps his fist. “But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Potter. My gift wrapping skills are legendary.” 

“Oh, my love,” James croons, grinning as he carries in two mugs of hot chocolate. “My sweet, naive girl.” He passes one to Remus and the other to you, dropping a kiss on your temple. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

[unconventional-lawnchair]

We'll heal together: Chapter Seven

Not Strong Enough Boygenius

Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x Reader (Ambiguous-Past)

Masterlist

Summary: Remus confiscates the map and sees a name he never thought he'd ever see again/how Remus lost the reader

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Mean Remus, Jealous/Jerk Sirius, Harry with hurt feelings, mentions of death, mentions of character death, cusses, mild sensual content (please reach out if I missed something}

Wc- 5963

If you were asked in school when was the first time you had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the eldest Black brother, you probably would have told them your first year when you met with James to be sorted into your houses. 

The Grand hall was magnificent, it looked as amazing as you had always guessed, with so many faces you had never seen before, and such a warm feeling that came with it. You looked around, eyes following the floating candles that cut down the middle aisle and tried to stop you before you could reach James.

You were bouncing on your heels, holding James’s arm, and swaying. Sirius didn't say anything to you, but he stared. Stared the whole time James introduced you to Peter and Remus, telling you the story of how they met, luggage mixed up after several of the suitcases on the platform had been knocked over.

You and Lily shared a look and amused snickers at that.

When James got to Sirius, you two shared a look but nothing else. There was a tension in the air, as you twisted your lips into a skilled and annoyed pout that James knew very well. Sirius just scoffed and looked away from you, stepping closer to James.

You gave a small huff, it felt like you were watching a dog lay claim on their favorite human. You grabbed James’ arm tighter and Sirius in turn wrapped his arm around his shoulder. You glared at Sirius while James stood there with a confused but content look. 

“James Potter.” Professor McGonagall called to the front, and he wiggled himself out of your grasp, You and Sirius still remained tense. You looked up at James with a hopeful smile, and your jaw dropped as the hat announced ‘Gryffindor!’ and the kids adorn in red cheered.

You also cheered. Then when Lily was called, you gave her a thumbs up as she glanced at you. With your reassurance, she walked forward, nose upward and full of confidence. The hat hardly touched her head before it boomed out the same house. You lit up as Lily looked over to Snape. The boy slowly nodded, as she hurried off to the red table. 

“Severus Snape!” She called forward and the boy climbed the steps. He sat down and his face twisted with determination, before the hat gave a scoff. “You can't just ask for a house, boy! There is more to it than that!” 

Snape's face fell but his eyes remained closed. 

“Slytherin!” The house called and you gave a worried look at how distressed that seemed to make him. You heard a pompous laugh beside you, turning to look at the gray eyes of Sirius Black. 

“Don't be cruel.” You hissed at him and he simply stuck his tongue out at you. You gave a gasp and before you could retaliate, the assistant headmistress called you forward.

At the sound of your last name, a few students looked at you wide eyed. Ignoring the attention had become a useful skill you picked up on when you were younger. You walked up and sat on the stool. Closing your eyes tight, you listened. Praying for Gryffindor. The hat gave the best impression of rolling his eyes. “Hm.. A {L/N}, you have some legacy here. Brave, wise for such a young child. Loyal and ambitious.. Oh, very ambitious.” He muttered and you twisted your face. “You, small child, are an interesting one. Mind is nothing like your father’s years ago..”

You slowly peaked your eyes open, looking over at the red table and smiling as James and Lily met your gaze. By chance, you glanced over at the Slytherin table, eyes locking on Snape who seemed so awkward and out of place, People talking to him and he didn't respond, staring at Lily. You frowned and the hat seemed to notice something in you shift, before the rim curled and he bellowed. “Slytherin!”

Your face fell and your jaw unclenched in shock. Standing up you walked over to the Slytherin table, ignoring people as they tried to call out to you sitting by Snape. He snapped his head up as if he was about to snap at you, before he paused. You both held a look at each other before he huffed and laid his head on the desk. You were content with the silence.

You always told everyone that was the day you were cursed with the parasitic knowledge of Sirius Black. For the trained eye, however, like Lily Evan’s, you two clearly knew each other before that. 

“So.” Lily mused as she laid in your bed, facing the canopy above her, and legs curled up. One thing you loved about being Prefects, was your dorms were not but a few yards away from each other. All it took was a silencing charm and James’s cloak to get you and the girls together.

Mary was on the floor facing your mirror, using the back end of your comb to line up her eyeliner while Marlene, her usual make up partner, was distracted.

Dorcus, your fellow Slytherin Prefect, was sitting on your bed by Lily, looking down at Marlene who was laying her head on her lap and biting her lip. Trying to flirt with the usually stoic girl. You raised your eyebrows in surprise when Dorcas actually smiled back. James is going to owe you so much money.

“So?” You asked, sitting on your desk and reordering your record collection Lily had slowly smuggled in for you over the years. As it was Lily’s gifts, it mostly consisted of ABBA and Queen, but all songs you adored.

“Well, I’ve been meaning to ask you, when did you meet Sirius?” Lily asked and your face twisted up in confusion. “What?”

“Don't ‘what’ me, there is clearly history there even before you met in the first year. There is so much hate in that boy's heart for you it's unrivaled. I sometimes wonder if James is the only thing keeping you away from meeting the other end of his wand.”

You gave a bitter laugh and rolled your eyes. “As a training Auror,” The girls collectively groaned and you giggled. “I could totally land him on his arse, thank you very much.”

“You're deflecting.” Mary sang from her seat on the floor and closed her makeup, turning to face you four. You bit your cheek as Marlene snickered. “And clearly there is something going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“I have to agree.” Dorcas called over and turned to face you, hands still on Marlene’s face. The glossy almost transparent lipstick stains all over Marlene’s face did NOT go unnoticed by you. You contemplated honesty, biting your cheek before you groaned.

“It's.. It's stupid, really. I know why he hates me, and it's not complete rubbish.” You sighed and set one of the records on to play with a wave of your wand. “He is just a child. Still thinks he's the only one suffering regardless of the situation. Narcissistic and cruel.”

The room was quiet for a moment before Lily gestured you over to your satin green sheets. You sat down and turned to look at her, as she squashed your cheeks together and Mary, feeling left out, hurried over to practically shove you across the bed. You guys fell down, head to head, looking up at the ceiling, and with another glance at Lily you caved. “Well, I may have met him one other time.”  

“Where?” Mary prodded as she shifted to her stomach. 

“At our engagement party?” You winced out as you cautiously looked at the girls who were all giving you serious looks of appalled shock. 

“You're what!?” Lily finally shouted. 

~~~

You couldn't have been more than five, maybe six, when you were told by your father that you were engaged. You were sitting in your room, having just finished your cleaning and making sure there were no blemishes to be seen. Your father and mother came in for their nightly overlook. 

You stood in the center of the room, head held up, back straight, and your nose turned so you looked like a presentable young lady. Your hands clasped behind your back as your father walked around you and ran his finger along one of the tops of your bookshelf. 

“We are going to the Blacks tomorrow, do you understand?” Your mother’s piercing bird-like voice filled the quiet dark room. “The house elf will dress you, but after your next birthday we expect you to be able to do it yourself. Understand?”

“Yes mother.” You mumbled. You hated the Blacks’, Mrs. Black was always so.. cruel. You couldn't imagine her home would be much better. 

“What is the occasion, mother?” You asked in a faint voice.

Your father went to stand by her and began to lead her out. “Your engagement to Sirius Black, her oldest son.”

You had to fight to keep your expression even. Oh.

“You will be on your best behavior, understand?” 

“Yes sir.”

As promised, mid afternoon next day, you were dressed in a complicated black dress, with frills and feathers to match the Black’s matriarch. You stood at the door, hands in front of you as you presented your full self, as your father always said. You had to fight back the tears as the door opened and it revealed a rather cruel looking house elf.

“{L/N}s, we welcome you to the noble house of Black.” He drew in a slimy way. You pouted and followed him in, your parents following close behind. Your father took off his coat as Kreacher took off your mothers, then yours. 

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell. It was awful. It was a burning rotten stench, like when your father would come back from his meetings with the dark lord. You would speak more on it if you knew more than the hushed whispers between him and your mother. Everything around you was so dreary, so depressing. All black and dark colors, it made you feel smaller,

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn't notice as the Black family made themselves visible at the entrance of a rather large ballroom. 

“Mr. and Mrs. {L/N}, how lovely to see you.” Mrs. Black called out to the three of you dripping in fake honey. Looking at your parents, your mother nudges you with her plastic smile, moving you both forward. “Mrs. Black, lovely to see you again.”

Their little interaction fell on deaf ears as you looked at the boys across from you. The taller one, who you assumed to be Sirius, was standing in front of a shorter boy, Regulus. The younger black was clinging to his brothers tailcoat and half behind him

Sirius was glaring at you, as much as a seven year old could glare. The look made you slowly lower your gaze down to your feet. What have you done? Only two minutes in and your future husband already seemed to hate your guts.

You winced as your father gave you a firm pat to the back of your head when he noticed your head down. You quickly raised it and looked towards the boys. Slowly, you offered your hand. “{Y-Y/N} {L/N}. It's a pleasure to meet you. You waited for Sirius to offer his hand in return, but it never happened,

Your father sent Walaburga a look, and she twisted her lip and smacked Sirius rather hard, and the boy hissed out in pain, rubbing the spot before he took and shook your hand.

That night was spent mostly clinging to your mothers leg as Sirius avoided you. Getting congratulations and proud looks from people you didn't know, and frankly, didn't want to know. Even Beatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda Black came to congratulate you. Though, the eldest, Andromeda seemed more sympathetic than actually happy for you. The other two didn't have a truly readable look, but Narcissa kept her eye on you for the rest of the party.

When it was time to go, you were at the door waiting for a proper farewell from Sirius, but even at his mothers insistence, he refused to meet your eyes. You didn't really want this to work, you didn't want to marry someone as mean as Sirius. All you could think was that you wanted to see James and hide away at the Potters. They were the only truly comforting family you knew.

~~

“He just kind of.. Hated me ever since. As a kid, I think I can see it. He has associated me with his family since that night. I don't know much about them, but I could make a few guesses.” You rattled on and sniffed, you didn't even notice you began to cry until Lily ran her thumbs across your cheeks. You puffed up your bottom lip and Lily gave a faint laugh at that. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” She whispered and you shrugged, moving to sit up. “I don't plan to marry him, you know that. I just have to push it, avoid it until my seventeenth birthday and I have left Hogwarts.” You declared, self assured.

“I will have access to my vault then, and when I move it to my own account I can go back to the Ministry as an Auror, my own person.” You sat up straight as your eyes landed on one of the many books you had read about your hero, Alastor Moody. You scrambled to your feet, past the girls and their sympathetic looks. “I learned not to hold onto it. Sirius will thank me eventually.”

You pulled out a book and flipped a few pages, down to the ‘dedicated to’ page that had Moody’s signature. The only gift your father ever gave you that wasn't about his preset image of your future.  The one thing he ever gifted you that showed you he knew who you were. Even if he seemed to hate it.

Dorcas and Marlene shared a look before Mary laid down flat against the bed with a huff. “I never figured Sirius for that kind of person.” She mumbled into a pillow.

“Really?” You, Lily, Marlene and Dorcas asked in shock, making you guys sputter out a laugh. Easily diffusing the tension of the room.

~~~

It had been a few days now, of you sneaking away from the Weasleys to go and watch Harry simply… live. It was the best feeling, watching him exist in the walls you once called home. It was nostalgic, gave you a bit of pride to watch him make choices you knew James never would, and acted with so much of his mothers patience and bleeding heart.

His friends, Merlin his friends, that Hermione girl behaved so much like Lily you caught yourself doing doubletakes whenever she would say something that sounded a bit too much like the red head. Ron, he was like a balancing act, shy like Peter, but his personality reminded you of his uncles. Particularly like Fabian.

You were quite fond of them, following them around almost everywhere you could. Eventually you cut the visits to every other day, you needed rest at some point. So, here you were, following after Harry with his two friends, listening to their complaints about a rat of some kind. The simple reminder of the animal had you huffing.

Apparently, you were a bit too loud. Harry, who was behind his friends, turned his head to look into the forest. He spotted you again, and you simply stared. This time, he smiled at you, and you gave a happy shrill. Your entire body wiggling, from your nose to the tip of your tail. He gave a laugh, and mumbled. “Hello again.”

“What was that?” Ron shouted from down the trail, and Harry only looked away for a moment, but when he looked back, you were gone. He frowned a bit before he hurried down the trail to catch up with his friends.

You followed them all the way down to the river, your ears rotating around as you watched them meet with Hagrid. You tilted your head, curious about the impromptu meeting. You remembered Hagrid vaguely, he was a charming man, but you didn’t have much time to spend with teachers casually. Like… well, a normal student. Hagrid was probably the only exception to this in your eyes. You admired the guy, but he was basically an overgrown child. Didn’t make him any less appealing.

You slipped past a few sticks and twigs to keep your volume to a minimum. That was, until you heard a few snaps behind you. You quickly turned to hide under a bush. You had run into too many wolves and other creatures who were looking to make a meal of you to take any chance. 

Your thoughts were derailed when you saw it, however. A muggle dog, larger than average, black and matted, he looked like a stray riddled with mange. You lowered yourself closer to the earth, but then, something clicked. No… truly? That silky fur you knew from his constant pampering, his full coat and frame had been whittled away to nothing, but you knew him. You knew that mutt anywhere.

You took the chance. You ran from cover and bit down on his tail. He gave a yelp and whipped around with a snarl. You held his eyes, it felt like he was moments away from pouncing. You took a shaky breath before you turned sharply and dashed off deeper into the forest. It wasn't long before you heard his heavy footsteps behind you. You ran for a while, until you were positive no one else could see you. You jumped down into a miniature cliff that was once a rushing river that had run dry. The second you jumped down, you transformed back. You raised your wand to the dog before you. 

Sirius, those eyes, they were his. He stared at you, and you returned the blank sentiment. He slowly shifted back and you saw him in all his tortured beauty. 

He didn't look much better than he did as a dog. Hair patchy, you assumed from neglect, He did always have a hair pulling problem when you were younger, you couldn't imagine what that did for him in Azkaban. “{Y/N}...”

Your name sounded broken coming from his lips like that. He walked closer and you stepped back, He didn't relent, walking you straight against the dirt walls that encased you. He only stopped when your wand hit his chest. He looked from your wand, looking up your arm, and to your face. He gave an almost crazed smile. “Scared of me, pretty girl?”

His voice was haunting. It put a weight down your throat, even in this state he had an effect on you that you could never understand. Your hand began to shake, and he took your wrist, lowering it and stepping forward. His dirty hands took your head so gently. You both stared into eachothers eyes and he gave a crazed and desperate laugh. His grip on your cheeks growing harsher. The dirt that was on his palms and under his fingers stained your skin, “Sirius-”

“Again.”

“What?”

“My name, say it again.” 

You stared at him. His voice was so strangled, likely from under use. He wet his lips and you took a shuttered breath.

“Sirius.”

He let out a sound that you were sure only a dog could make. Grinding his teeth, he dug his nails into your cheek and jaw as he forced you to look completely up. Into his eyes. “Where have you been, vixen?”

You raised your hand to grab his wrist in warning, but the crazed man seemed to have come to terms with it. “I have.. Quite the tale for you, Sirius.” You breathed, and he slowly nodded, Hands lowering to your sides and you bit your bottom lip. Looking away from him. Giving him the chance to lean into your ear to speak. “Better make it quick, Vix.”

You almost forgot how to breathe. Struggling to hang onto your anger. This man had gone after Peter alone, told no one, not even thinking about how he was abandoning your godson in the process. Your mind was suddenly fogging once more when his thumbs pushed hard against your waist and his nose found its way to your neck.

You pushed him back just a few inches, turning to face him again, “Let me start from the beginning.”

~~ Harry’s POV~~

He saw the name, he knows he did. Peter Pettigrew. He knew something was off, walking down the hall alone. The steps were getting closer, but the name tag had disappeared. He ran his thumb over the sheet as he stood still in the hall. There was a tense moment, where he was sure Peter was getting closer. He flinched at his own reflection. 

He was going mad, looking at this old parchment. Surely, it was mistaken. He had gone on a wild goose chase this whole time. Oh great, now Snape is coming? “Mischief Managed, Nox”

As if he was just waiting for him to hide, a blinding light took over his peripherals. 

“Potter.” Snape drawls, his lips curled up in a permanent scowl. “And what are you doing, wandering the corridors at night?”

“Uhm,” Harry stated and began to look around for any excuse he could muster. “Uh, sleep walking?”

He cursed himself as it came out as more of a question than a statement.

Snape scoffed. “You are so extraordinarily like your father, strutting around the castle.”

“My father didn't strut.” Harry snapped back and Snape narrowed his eyes at him. “And nor do I. Now, if you would be so kind as to lower your wand from my face.”

Snape lowered his wand and rolled his wrist. “Turn out your pockets.”

Harry sighed and pulled out the parchments and his wand. “Open it, now.”

He thumbed over the paper and unfolded the map. Snape lowered his wand to utter an incantation, before gesturing to the words. “Read it.”

“...” Harry sighed and lifted the page to his face. “Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Vulpes, Padfoot and Prongs offer their compliments to Professor Snape and..”

“Go on.” Snape insisted and Harry glanced up at him before sighing and looking back down.

“And request that he keeps his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.” Harry remarked as he snapped his eyes up to Snapes, looking him dead in his dark pupils.

“Why you insolent little-”

“Professor?” Lupin called down the hall, turning the nearest corner and narrowing in on the two. 

Snape turned sharply and slowly smirked at the fellow professor. “Ah, Lupin. Taking a stroll out in the moonlight are we?”

Lupin resisted the urge to scoff, and looked around him. “Harry? Are you alright?” He called over in a gentle tone. Harry nodded but Snape snapped his hand forward and snatched the parchment from him before he could stop him. 

“That remains to be seen. I have just now confiscated a rather curious artifact.” Snape remarked as he looked it over. Lupin felt his heart fall to his feet. He hadn't seen that map since Finch confiscated it, Lupin quickly recovered,as Snape handed it over.

“I believe this is your area of expertise.”

Lupin looked it over with a firm sigh, threw his nose, rolling his tongue to try and stifle a laugh at the words. “Looks to be a parchment designed to insult whoever reads it. Likely a Zonkos product. Severus, but.” He lifted the paper higher as Snape tried to grab it back. “I will look it over. As you said, it is my area of expertise. Now!”

Lupin turned on his heels and gestured to his side. “Harry, a word of you'd please?”

Harry nodded and quickly passed Snape, head down as if in shame.

Once they made it to the classroom, Harry followed Lupin to his desk. The professor was clearly upset, so Harry stayed quiet. He spoke calmly, but his tone was anything but, like he was holding himself back from rage he didn't recognize.  

“Now I haven't the faintest idea how this map came to be in your possession, I would say I am shocked you didn't hand it in, if I didn't see James doing the same thing. I am, however, incredibly disappointed in this behavior. Did you stop to think of it? For a moment?” Lupin raised his voice steadily before he took a pause and a deep breath, turning to face Harry fully. “That if Sirius Black got his hands on this map, that this would lead straight to you?”

Harry’s eyebrows raised. It wasn't that he was unused to people's rage being directed at him, or their disappointment for that matter. But something about it being Remus looking at him like that, it broke a bit of his heart. He was just so used to Lupin’s warmth. “... No.” He admitted.

“No. Of course not.” Lupin hissed. “I understand the thrill of it all, I was a student in these halls once too, but it is time to stop looking at this like a game. You are in danger Harry. Danger that your father and your mother lost their lives trying to keep you from. Danger that the people dearest to me were killed and maimed to protect you from! And wondering about the castle with a killer on the loose seems to be a pretty poor way to repay them.”

The professor waved the paper around like it had done some horrible offense. He tossed it on his desk with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don't mean-” Harry tried to explain and Remus didn't want to hear it, raising his hand to tell him to be quiet.

“Didn't mean what? To sneak out? Endanger yourself and in turn, this school?”

“I didn't think it was-” He began in bewilderment and Lupin simply raised his voice.

“Do you know how many people were affected by this war? How many people were on the front lines to ensure your safety?”

“No..”

“Fabian Prewett, do you know that name?” Lupin walked up to a letter that rested on his desk. He flicked it open. Harry frowned, hard.

“No-”

“Molly Weasley’s older brother, dead. Do you know Gideon Prewett?”

“No, I-”

“Fabian's twin brother, he was splinched and lost his left arm, moved to America. Marlene McKinnon?” He prodded. Harry looked down at his shoes. “Dead, death eaters killed her entire family. Dorcus Meadows? Voldemort killed her himself after she snapped and went rogue, looking to avenge Marlene. Mary McDonnell?”

“No-”

“She was killed in her safe house days after your parents death. {Y/N} {L/N}?” His voice cracked at the name.

“Yes, that name I-”

“You don't have a clue about that woman! About your Godmother, because she was killed. Killed trying to protect you and saving lives. All of these people put themselves on the line. Not just for your parents, but for you. For the concept of what we believed was our family. Peter Pettigrew faced Sirius Black for you! And to you that means nothing but for a boy like Peter that meant the world.”

There was a thick and tense silence.”Do you know what that means? Family means we look after eachother. In order to do that, you have to look after yourself first.” He tutted as Harry sniffed and looked away. He hated to be this intense about it, but Harry needed to wake up at some point.

“I will not cover up for you again, Harry. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir.” He whispered low and Remus huffed. “Go to your dormitory.”

Harry had never run quicker from Remus, before he paused and cleared his throat. “Professor?”

Lupin gave a deep sigh and slowly turned to look up at Harry. “Yes?”

“I think it may be broken. It's uhm.. It’s been showing me Peter Pettigrew.” He spoke carefully and Remus narrowed his eyes. Harry gave an awkward nod, muttering a good night before running off.

Remus was left alone with his thoughts, eyes wandering up to the window behind his desk. He thinned his lips as he let his mind wander next. Those names, Maybe it was the date that led him to be so hard, even close to the full moons he had learned to manage his temper for the most part. The date was getting closer and closer to when he made one of the stupidest mistakes he has made in his life.

~~~

The spring formal, in lue of the triwizard tournament in the winter. He remembered when Lily suggested it to the other prefects then to the professors. They hadn’t held the tournament in years, and the kids were close to their last years at Hogwarts.

He thought it was a cute idea at first, having been one of the many students Lily had referenced to get the whole thing reviewed by the professors. Then, he started getting those bloody questions. It started when you were all sitting together in the library, the boys, you, Lily, and Mary.  

You were talking Mary threw the process of making liquid luck, when a hufflepuff boy walked up to the table. He cleared his throat and looked at you in a way that made Remus want to pull you closer. His lip twitched and the boy didn't even seem to see him there. You two always sat together, no matter where it was. 

You sat up straighter and your knee pulled from his, he almost whined at the loss of your warmth. Merlin, he was a mess. 

“{Y/N} {L/N}?” He called over to you and you looked up at him with your beautiful eyes. He saw the boy take a nervous breath and you sat there so patiently, eyes fluttering. “I was wondering, if you had a date yet? To the Formal, I mean.” 

Your mouth shaped an ‘o’ and you gave him the sweetest look you could, avoiding pity or sympathy. “Sorry hun, you're very cute, but I am actually waiting on someone.” You remarked, Remus glanced at you to see you were already looking at him with this cheeky look. Didn't know if his blood was rushing to his face or leaving it, but he suddenly felt dizzy. You gave a giggle at his look before you turned back to Mary and got back to helping her. The curly haired girl was staring at you with a slack jaw. “Did you really just say that?” She whispered to you before Lily spoke up next. “Did you really just do that?”

He turned to face the boys and they were staring at him with wide and cheeky looks, all but Sirius who seemed annoyed by the whole thing.

“Well, he knows what I want.” You remarked and he just about fainted on the spot.

You damned Vixen.

That's how he got here, sitting in his dorm room with the boys, as they interrogated him.

“You're not going to ask her? The girl you've been mooning over for years says she wants you infront of everyone and you're not going to ask her?” James sounded like Remus had personally offended him.

“First of all, I resent that. Second, it's only been a year.” Remus muttered the last part, remembering the day he fell for you fondly. Waking up to your warmth after one of the worst nights of his life. You had found out about his condition months ago, he had been avoiding you. You always had a playful and flirty friendship. But when he woke up to you in the chair beside him, sound asleep. He thought he could see that for the rest of his life, and he fell even harder when you let out the most embarrassingly loud snore.

“You flirt with her all the time! What’s so unappealing about doing that for an entire night?” Peter, ever bold when it came to you challenged and Remus sighed.

“When the full moon is close, she can't possibly think I'm serious, and! it's hard to think the same of her when she flirts with Lily and Marlene all the same.”

“She does what now-” James sat up straight like a rocket and that made Sirius cackle.

“It's easier when it's not serious. But, a spring formal? That's like.. asking her to be my girlfriend!” Remus declared in offense and Sirius scoffed, looking over his book as Remus struggled.

“Do you not want that?” James asked and Sirius chuckled. “Must have realized how vile she truly is.”

“Watch it Sirius.” Remus huffed before he looked back at James and Peter. “Of bloody course I want that. I just can't have it.”

James gave him a confused look before he groaned. “This shit again-”

“I will ruin her life! She'll be an Auror the second we cross that lake after graduation! Then what will people think? It won't be cute anymore. A werewolf husband can't keep a job, and I can never have kids. That's the one thing she wants the most. A family.” He mumbled and James sighed. Sirius winced and sunk into his bed a bit more as Remus spoke about his betrothed without knowing it.

He was going to tell them, but you had never made it known if you wanted him to share it or not. Not that you willingly interacted with him after how he treated him. Then you started this fling with Reamus. He figured at first it was to make him jealous, and it worked. Though, the way you looked at him was chilling. He quickly realized he had gone too far, but there wasn't much he could do now. So he stayed quiet.

“Do you think maybe you would be enough for her?” Peter offered and James nodded along.

“I think knowing she settled for me would be worse.”

Remus Lupin, despite his best efforts to prove otherwise, was not stupid. He saw the way you looked at him, the tone you took with him and no one else. You were wild. fun, but responsible and respectful. You were the coolest witch he ever met, and when he first said that out loud Lily gushed like a schoolgirl. Well, as a school girl. He knew that the remark in the Library was true,

He wanted to know what loving you meant. The feel of your hand in his. He wanted to know what it was like being your number one, you already had a way of making people seem special, but to be special to you was something he wanted all to himself. He wanted you all to himself. 

He couldn't have that, he couldn't do that to you. To anyone. So, he made a choice that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He would let you go, and let you down easily. Before it got too real.

~~

Remus shoved away the memory as he sighed, pulling open the map and looking it over. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He whispered to it, looking it over with a frown. He curled back the pages, looking over the forest and the names around. It was oddly stimulating, watching the prefects doing their rounds and the occasional professor here and there.

His eyes wandered all over the map, looking to see if Harry was being truthful about it having Peter’s name. He didn't see it, but his nearly dropped the map when he saw his name. Sirius Black.

And he wasn't alone.

[masonmyluv]

Birthday present - Pedri Gonzalez

A/N: A little something I wrote for his bday🤭 Happy birthday to this cutie aka Pedri Potter Gonzalez Lopez 💙🎉

Warnings: smut 18+ 🔞🔞🔞

"Pablo, I told you I don't want to celebrate"

"But it's your birthday!"

"We have an important game tomorrow" Pedri said. "So? We should at least sing you happy birthday" Pablo said, dragging Pedri inside the locker room. Pablo double-checked your text earlier, saying that you landed safely and were about to pick the cake.

"Happy birthday!!!" Everyone yelled when Pedri entered the room. "Yeah thanks guys" he smiled. "Happy birthday my guy" Ferran said, hugging him. "W-what..." Pedri was at loss of words when he noticed you behind Ferran's back. "Surprise" you giggled. "How... you..." he was at loss of words as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I feel betrayed" Ferran joked. "Missed you" Pedri whispered into your neck. "Missed you too, my love" you said, pecking his lips. "Happy" kiss "birthday" kiss "to the best" kiss "boyfriend" kiss "in the world" kiss.

"Okay get a room" Ferran shouted. "You brought cake?" Pedri asked. "Yes, and everyone is allowed to eat" Xavi said, already on his second slice, which he thought no one saw, but you did. Hehe. Everyone sat down, eating cake, all except Pedri. He was looking at you and playing with your fingers. "You okay? The cake is really good" you said, mouth full of cake. "Yeah... just happy you're here" he said, kissing the top of your head. "You don't seem really happy" Pablo butted in. "Tomorrow I'll be at the game wearing your t-shirt" you whispered. "And tomorrow I'll give you the other present" you added so that no one could hear. "Now he's smiling" Pablo smirked. "I wonder what you told him". "Nothing" Pedri replied too fast. "Mhm" Pablo said. You shot him a look, but couldn't be mad at him. After all, he was the one who helped you plan the surprise for your boyfriend, so you were thankful to have a friend like him.

—— day of the game ——

"Good luck, guapo" you whispered, kissing him passionately. "Mhm... don't want to let you go" he said, hands squeezing your ass. "Get a room" Ferran shouted. "I promise. Tonight" you said, pecking his lips again. Little did he know you will be busy that night, but not in the sexy way.

After the game, in which he scored, you were on your way to his place. "Are you okay? You don't seem that excited after a goal" you asked. You knew something was wrong with him since you kissed him after the game. Usually, he would talk you through the whole game, but now he was surprisingly quiet. "No, sorry, I really am. But..." he said. "I wish my parents were here. And Fer. He didn't even wish me happy birthday" he said and you could cry in that moment, telling him that they were waiting for him at home. "Oh Pedri, I'm sure he will" you said, texting Fer that you were on the way. This man, this man right here made your ovaries explode at how much he cared about his family. "I wish they were at the game too. Together with you. Supporting me. But they said they were too busy to fly here" he said thought greeted teeth. You bit your tongue, not wanting to ruin the surprise, but he was making it hard. Fucking ovaries, slow down. "They said they'll come in the weekend, no?" You asked. "Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he said defeated, parking the car. "Hey... look at me. It's your birthday and they love you, I'm sure they have something for you" you said, pecking his lips. "I hope you're right".

"Sorpresaaaa!!!"

Pedri remained like a statue in the door when he saw his family inside his house. "Don't you think we forgot about your birthday, you fucking idiot!" Fer said, hugging his brother. "You're an idiot" he repeated, fighting his little brother. Pedri then went to hug his parents. "If it wasn't for Y/N..." Fer said, bringing his attention back to you. "It was her idea. All this. And we were her accomplices" Fer grinned. Pedri ran to hug you tightly, whispering just how much he loves you. "I love you too, guapo. Now, let's celebrate" you said as Fer handed you a glass of champagne.

You talked with his mom about the match, then Pedri was curious how they couldn't make it to the game. Their flight got delayed, but you had this brilliant idea to wait for him home. "Wow... my girlfriend is really special, isn't she?" Pedri said, kissing the top of your head. "And now she'll say oh no, I didn't do anything" Ferran said, imitating your voice. "Hey!" You pouted, but still laughed at his joke.

"Hey! Where is the birthday boy?" Ferran asked after you had dinner. The birthday boy was sucking his girlfriend's face in the kitchen. "Tell me they aren't sleeping here" Pedri asked, sucking on your neck. "No. They're staying at Fer. Be patient, Pedri" you said, pushing him away. "I want you, amor" he whispered. "I know. I want to properly wish you a happy birthday too" you said, hugging him. "Ah he's here, where else he could be?" Fer said, seeing your flushed faces. "Slow down, cabron. We'll leave in a minute" Fer said. You bid your goodbyes to his family, promising to have breakfast with them in the city. "If you won't be busy" Fer winked before the left.

"Finally" Pedri said, hungrily kissing you. "Pedri... stop" you said, pushing him away. "What? Did I do something?" He asked panicked. "No, I just want to properly give you my present" you giggled, taking his hand and running to your shared bedroom. "Just wait here and be naked" you winked before disappearing into the bathroom to put on the new set of lingerie you bought special for this occasion. Meanwhile, Pedri undressed himself until his boxers, impatiently waiting for you. "You ready?" You asked from the bathroom. "Yeah..." he replied instantly.

"Fuck baby... I could come in my pants right now" he groaned, as you cat walked to him, pushing him down on the mattress. "What do you like more, Papi?" You asked, pulling his boxers down and eyeing him up and down. "Fuck me" he groaned as you sat on his thigh. "What do you like, Papi?". "Those panties, princess. I can feel you dripping on me" he smirked and you blushed. "Let me make you feel good, papi" you said, kneeling in front of him. "You wanna suck me? Come get it" he smirked as you lowered your lips to brush against his tip. He shuddered as you lips wrapped around him. "Looks so good princess. My cock into your pretty mouth" he said. When he hit the back of your throat, you both let out a moan. "Fuck baby... just like that" he praised, fucking your face. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving marks behind, but he didn't care. He wanted you to mark him up for everyone to see.

"Let me give you your present Papi" you pouted when he pulled out of your mouth. "Wanna come inside your pussy, baby. Now lay back and relax" he said, dipping his head into your core. "But Papi, it's supposed to be about you tonight" you moaned as he pleasured you with his tongue. "It's also about you, mi amor" he said. "Giving me, hm, let's say, 5 orgasms" he said. "It's too much, Papi" you moaned, already close to the first one. "I know you can. You're my good girl" he said, sucking harshly on your clit, triggering your orgasm. "Fuck Pedri..." you moaned when he pushed a finger inside. "So sweet for me, love" he praised, seeing how you closed your eyes in pleasure when he added another finger into your hole. "F-fuck..." you moaned again, his fingers brushing your G-spot. "Orgasm number 2 incoming" he chuckled as you rode his fingers and came.

"Papi please fuck me" you said as he teased your hole with the tip of his dick. "I'll fuck you so good, baby... you won't be able to walk tomorrow" he said. "Good thing you have the day free" you said as he pushed all the way in. "So tight and warm" he praised, moving a little to test the waters. But after two orgasms, you were more than ready to take him, so he thrusted harder. While he fucked your cunt, he suck on your breasts, pleasuring your hardening nipples while you were a moaning mess. "Orgasm number 3... let go, love" he said and you moaned louder as you came on his dick. He pulled out, waiting for you to regain your breath before flipping you on your stomach. "Pepi... can't" you whined as he helped you on all fours. "I know you can" he said, harshly slapping your ass. "You're my good good girl" he said, plunging himself back into you. You moaned, over sensitive, his dick feeling much deeper as he fucked you from behind. "Papi... fuck..." you moaned as he continued slapping your ass. "Take it like a good girl" he groaned and you could feel his breath on your neck. "You're doing so good for the birthday boy" he praised, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Only for you, Pedri" you moaned, feeling another orgasm coming. "Yes, baby, only I can fuck you like this" he groaned as he felt you clenching again. "Let go when you're ready, love" he whispered. You cried as you came and he spilled himself into you, breathing heavily. He didn't pull out right away and you knew why. You squirted all over him, your wetness dripping down your legs. He finally pulled away, helping you on your back as you were too embarrassed of what just happened. "I'm... I'm sorry" you shuttered, seeing what a mess you made on the bed. "Love, hey... that's the best present you could've given me" he said, pecking your lips. "I'm helping you clean yourself yeah?" He asked and you nodded, him bringing a wet cloth to wipe everything off.

"The best present ever" he said as you laid your head on his chest. "Happy birthday, Pedri. Love you so much" you yawned. "Love you too, baby. You still have to give me one orgasm, so don't forget about that" he chuckled. "Of course, Pepi. But I have to rest, you know" you said, blushing. "I know" he smirked. "Night Pepi" you said, falling asleep on his chest as he played with your hair. "Night, love" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

— next morning —

"Mhmm Pedri" you moaned as his head was between your legs again. "Pedri!" "What?" He asked. "We had to have breakfast with your parents" you said as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue. "I'm having my breakfast right now" he smirked, licking your wetness. "Fuck... we'll go after this" you moaned. "If you're able to walk, love" he grinned. "Pedri... fuck" you moaned as you came on his face. "And that's the fifth orgasm. You're welcome" he grinned, hugging you. "Te amo, Papi" you whispered. "Still want to go?" He asked. "No" you yawned, cuddling into his chest. "Good. Prepare for a lot of teasing from Ferran" he laughed. "I don't care when I have you" you mumbled. "I know. Me neither. Plus, he's jealous he ain't got a chick in his bed" he joked. "Good thing you have" you replied. "I have a girlfriend and that's even better" he said, pecking your lips.

Hope you like it 🩷

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Secrets of the Darkest Art: How to Make a Horcrux

So I saw many theories regarding how to make a Horcrux, but none of them really made perfect sense to me, so I decided to give it a crack myself as part of my mission to understand Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle (Which I think I did, big post coming about that at some point, this is but another piece of that puzzle of a man)

So this is my reverse engineering of a ritual to create Horcruxes based on book evidence, my knowledge of real-world alchemy, real-world ancient Greek cults and rituals and linguistic analysis.

How to reverse engineering a dark magical ritual:

The first thing is to define what we know for certain:

The name: "Horcrux"

The creator is an Ancient Greek wizard named Harpo the Foul.

A death is required in the making.

A Horcrux holds a piece of the caster's soul that anchors them to life so they won't die.

I'll actually start with the third point.

How to split a soul?

Both Dumbledore and Slughorn mention murder being required to tear your soul to make a Horcrux, and that never really sat right with me. It magically doesn't make sense and even the canon examples we have for Horcrux murders make this statement iffy.

We have seven examples of murders used to create Horcruxs (thanks to one Tom Riddle being dramatic):

The Diary - Myrtle Warren - killed by a basilisk. Sure, Tom freed the Basilisk, but it hardly seemed targeted at Myrtle specifically and you can argue he didn't actually kill her (more a manslaughter by negligence). He didn't cast the spell, so how come this tore his soul? (I also think Myrtle was an accident and wasn't meant to be killed, but I digress)

The Ring - his father (Tom Riddle Sr) - Avada Kadevra.

The Cup - Hepzibah Smith - she was poisoned by her house elf. Sure, the elf was under the imperious, but it wasn't a first-degree murder, and like with the Basilisk I find it hard to consider this the same as casting a killing curse. Magically those are very different things.

The Locket - Muggle Tramp - Avada Kadevra

The Diadem - Albanian Peasant - Avada Kadevra

Harry Potter - himself - backfired Avada Kadevra

Nagini - Bertha Jorkins - Avada Kadevra

Now, I used the term "magically different" or "magically make sense" what do I mean by that?

Well, besides the fact I'm going to make a full post about how I see magical theory in the Harry Potter Wizarding World, I'll say it takes a lot after occult philosophies from Alchemy that are very old, Slughorn mentions as much in book 6 and there are a few other references to it. I'm just gonna cover the basics required for this theory.

In Alchemy, everything (people, animals, plants, and rocks) is built of three base components:

The Salt - the body - the physical form.

The Sulfur - the soul - the self that holds the divine flame.

The Mercury - the spirit - the life essence that binds the salt and sulfur together.

Now, in Alchemy, the main study is in purifying and combining these different aspects of material. Let's look at a herb, for an example:

If we want to retrieve its salt, we'll dry the herb completely using fire to leave behind a fine light grey ash that represents only the physical form.

If we wanted its mercury we'd distill all liquids from it until we get a purified, clear liquid which in the case of plants would be alcohol (it's why alcohol is referred to as "spirit").

And if we wanted its soul, we would take the remains from the distillation and drying process which would be a kind of oil.

(it can get more complicated with different materials, but this isn't a post about Alchemy)

Now, back to Horcruxs.

So, if we would want to split a soul, Alchemecly, how do we go about it?

Well, we don't. Not really. See a soul can't really be split, as every part of it, every bit of that oil from our random herb represents the entire soul. It's why something like a Horcrux could theoretically work in giving a full life to the diary the way we see in Chamber of Secrets.

Additionally, to work with any material in Alchemy, you are required to purify it first. It means that to get a piece of soul to bind to a diary, you need a pure soul.

Killing someone else won't sever your own soul from the spirit and the body, it's not how this works. Killing someone severs their spirit and therefore splits their body, spirit, and soul. Besides, an Ancient Greek man, like Herpo was, would hardly consider murder as vile as we do today. It wouldn't even cross his mind that any murder (even an indirect one) could harm one's own soul.

No, the only way to "split" a soul is to first sever it from life, disconnecting the bond between soul and body. Essentially, the only way to promise you immortality is to kill yourself.

I know it sounds a little confusing, but, essentially, once the soul is severed from the spirit and body you can split it. Think of the herbal oil, once you have the oil, separate from the rest of the plant parts, you can combine it with new ingredients. You can only work on a specific aspect once you severed it from the other two and as what binds all three together is spirit — life — the only way to do it for a human soul — is death.

But really, how?

Well, here comes the second thing we know about making Horcruxs — that dear Herpo was from Ancient Greece.

In Ancient Greece they had multiple different religious cults, some of which were Chthonic cults. These cults dedicated themselves to death or ditties and heroes associated with death and more importantly — rebirth.

Many of these cults were dedicated to figures like Orpheus, Dionysus, and Persephone, characters in mythology who are known for going through the underworld — through death — and coming back out. These cults were very secretive and not much is known about their practices, but some are.

What is known is that they had rituals where they reenacted a death and then rebirth (usually drinking wine — water of life, was the representation of rebirth).

This created a very clear idea in my head — to split a soul, you'll have to ritualistically, magically kill yourself, severe a piece of your soul, and then revive yourself with a water of life — a potion.

This potion is never mentioned, but I believe it exists due to these Chthonic cult rituals and how they were structured. Not only that, but the Greek underworld did have a river known for being incredibly painful to drink, literally made of fire, but being able to bring the dead back - The Phlegethon River.

Note: Lethe River Water (the river in the Greek Underworld that makes the drinker forget) is a canon ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion.

So what is the dead body for?

Well, congratulations, you killed yourself to retrieve a sliver of your soul and revived yourself so you won't stay dead. You found an item you can keep secure to tie that sliver of soul, too. Now, how would you bind then? After all, the only thing meant to bind a human soul to a body is a human spirit - a human life... you get where I'm going with this.

This is why Tom didn't have to be the one to do the deed. As long as he had a recently deceased corpse to harvest the life from to use to bind his newly split soul and the item of his choice.

It explains why nothing was missing from the bodies. Myrtle and the Riddles were investigated by the Ministry of Magic. One would assume the Aurors would've noticed if any corpse was missing a hand due to the killer eating it (as other Horcrux theories suggest).

Not only was nothing missing from the body, the soul was intact. Myrtle became a ghost after death, a ghost is quite literally, just the soul, no body, no spirit.

So the only thing that was taken from Tom's victims was their life, quite literally at that.

Is that all? Can we make a Horcrux now?

Not really. See, when analyzing spells in Harry Potter, one thing super important to note is their name.

Avada Kadevra - is a reference to an Aramaic healing spell "Abracadabra" pronounced in Aramaic as: "Avra Kadebra" and meaning "I will create as commanded". Merged with the Latin word "cadaver" meaning "corpse" to create -> "I will create dead bodies as commanded"

Or Wingardium Laviosa - is a cross of the English word "wing", the Latin word "arduus" (meaning "high, tall, lofty, steep, proudly elevated"), or "arduum" (meaning "steep place, the steep" and the Latin word "levo" (meaning to "raise, lift up"). So together the spell means -> "lift high up".

So, it's pretty clear spells, their names, and incantations are very self-explanatory. So a Horcrux should be no different.

I've seen some attempts at translating the name Horcrux. Unfortunately, these attempts treated the name as Latin, modern Greek, or Old English. Herpo, was Ancient Greek, though, so I went and translated a few possible meanings from Ancient Greek (Classical Greek and Homeric Greek are what I looked at):

ὅρκος (orkus, pronounced "hor-kus") - an oath, the object by which one swears, bound by oath (still used in modern Greek).

κρόκες (crukes, pronounced "cru-kes") - saffron-colored (blood red in Greek), crocus flower. The crocus flower symbolizes both death (the saffron that is the spice) and rebirth (the golden crocus which brings renewal and joy) because Demeter wears them when Persephone returns from the underworld in myth.

So what we have is a spell called "binding oath of death and rebirth" which all around sounds fitting.

There might also be a "made in blood" tucked at the end due to the association of κρόκες with the color of blood.

But why does it matter?

Well, now with this name, I expect the binding between the spirit from the victim, the split soul, and the item would be done in a sort of oath - an orkus.

The association with blood gives us another hint. Blood is the part of the human body most representative of life. Therefore, in Alchemy, your blood is your spirit. So it'll make sense that your own blood would be used in the binding process or more correctly in the process of turning another person's spirit into your own. Making the thread to bind the body (item) and the soul piece your own. As it also refers to just a red firey color, it can indicate the Phlagatton potion I hypothesize should be part of the ritual due to how Chthonic rituals usually went, as the Phlagaton river is made of fire.

So we have a general idea of how to make a Horcrux. You need an item of your choice to bind your soul to. You need a life (spirit) harvested from a human that you transformed into being your own using your blood. And you need a piece of your own soul, which you get by killing yourself and then reviving yourself. And you finish it off by binding it all together with an oath.

But how could you make one accidentally?

So, everyone knows Voldemort succeeded in somehow making a Horcrux accidentally, something a lot of theories I saw don't account for. Becouse whatever process you need to go to to make a Horcrux, Voldemort went through all of it the night he died the first time and marked Harry.

All the steps for my method of making a Horcrux were met that night.

The item in qustion is baby Harry, nothing interesting there.

The soul sliver was split the way it always is — through death. Voldemort died, killed by his own killing curse and that is what splits his soul.

The life or spirit that then binds his soul to Harry isn't Lily's spirit or James'; it's his own spirit that acts as a binder between Harry and Voldemort’s split soul. Because the spirit was already his, there was no need to transform it by blood so the additional ritual wasn't necessary.

Step-by-step guide to making Horcruxes:

I'm not going to actually give the full step-by-step least a budging dark lord is looking for this information. I do have notes about exact incantations and even the full recipe and instructions for the Phlagaton potion I'm going to mention. These instructions won't be here since they are more in the realm of speculation and headcanon. This is just the overview of the ritual based on canon information and the occult philosophy I mentioned above. (edit: the full step-by-step headcanon with my potion recipe and everything does appear in the reblogs)

Step 1 - Life and Blood

Get access to a recently deceased human and extract their Mercury (Spirit or Life Essence).

Submerge the retrieved life essence with your own blood on a new moon (life and vitality). (7 drops of blood will probably do)

Step 2 - Water of Fire

To complete the cycle of death and rebirth you’ll need the Phlegeton Water potion to return you to life at the end of the cycle.

As you brew the potion, it must be brewed in a dark room, preferably underground to remind as much of the underworld as possible.

While brewing the potion one must be in the mindset of the Phlegeton, must be willing to go through agony to achieve eternal life and imbue these thoughts in their potion. (In alchemy, when working, it is believed you imbue your work with your thoughts during the Alchemical process. As an Alchemical process affects both the material being worked and the Alchemist themselves)

Likley Ingrediants:

Saffron spice

Golden crocus flower juice

Pomegranate juice

Step 3 - The Ritual Preparation

Set up your space so none of the components may escape the ritual space and so the ritual will not be interfered with.

Make sure the spirit you retrieved is within reach.

Make sure the item you desire will hold the Horcrux will be within reach as well.

Coax the spirit into the item and prepare it to tie your soul to the next step.

Step 4 - Death and Rebirth

To create a thread of your soul to tie to the ritual, you must die figuratively. Go through death to return stronger from the underworld.

Once you feel like death has reached you and your soul is separated you should heal your soul and finish the cycle, bringing you out of death and back to life by drinking the Phlegeton potion.

After the pain subsides you will feel healthier than before, stronger than before, and you’ll have an additional thread of sulfur (soul) in your chest to be pulled out and placed into the Horcrux.

The split-off soul should, on its own, try to search for life and a body to be bound to. If it doesn't, coax it out yourself and bind it to the Horcrux with the spirit you made in step 1.

Step 5 - Oath of Life

The connection between the body (the item), soul, and spirit is still unstable, if most likely strong enough to hold.

Swear the oath of life to finalize the bond between you, the Horcrux, and the soul thread together to ward off death.

I'll end with this note I made regarding Horcruxes when I started working on this theory:

I don't know what all goes into the process of making a Horcrux but I don't believe a person who truly likes themselves and doesn't want to inflict pain on themselves could make a Horcrux. Tearing up your soul is an act of arrogance above nature, sure, thinking you deserve to change the laws of the world and be the exception is part of it, but it's also an act of self-hatred. You need to hate yourself enough to be willing to kill yourself, hurt yourself, and tear yourself up in the most unnatural ways — hence why so few can do so, let alone more than once.

And Tom Riddle does seem to have that exact mix of arrogance, spite, and low self-esteem that would allow it.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Me & The Devil P.2 🌘| Harry Potter Imagine

takes place during HBP & DH1

Part 1 here Final Part | HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: death, violence, profanity, angst, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested yes/no

Premise: A dark storm is brewing over Hogwarts. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters spark unease in the Golden Trio. For a certain member of the Noble House of Black, she takes on a new role of double agent with the partnership between her and a certain Hogwarts professor. Will she survive the ordeal and get her freedom when it's all over? The odds are slim when acting as a loyal servant and hunted by aurors.

Note: Snape is 37 in this like the books and reader is 31. Part 3 will be the final chapter to this miniseries but I have no idea when it will be posted. Hope y’all like this one! Also near the end the final scenes are inspired by Wanda in MOM so yeah that belongs to Marvel

——————-

Months went by. Waiting. Scheming. Y/n felt her mind deteriorate by the day. Between Bellatrix’s constant complaints of Draco’s failures and Narcissa’s moping, Y/n spent most of her time in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Hidden away to perfect her spells and create new ones. She even managed to successfully become an animagus. 

A black crow.

How fitting.

At times Y/n found herself sitting in front of the window. Especially when it rained. The lightning in the distance, the crisp air filling the attic walls. Lost in her thoughts, Y/n would caress the silver jewelry laid on her left ring finger. 

Once a month she’d receive a letter from Severus, unbeknownst to the others, detailing Draco’s attempts and all the times Snape’s had to cover for him. As part of their deal to keep quiet of the others' disloyalty and motives behind actions, Snape agreed to update her on Draco and keep the Order off Y/n’s trail. For Y/n’s side of the bargain, she agreed to deflect suspicion on him from their fellow Death Eaters. Specifically her sisters.

And what better way to do that then in holy matrimony.

“You want to get married?” she scoffed, placing her wine glass on the coaster. Having left with her sisters following the unbreakable vow, Y/n returned later that night after Severus sent an owl. Sitting in the same leather chair from before, “You humor me.”

“I can assure you I am everything but comical, Y/n,” he drawled, standing by the fireplace. The sound of wood crackling filled the room. “This is not an arrangement I suggest lightly.”

Seeing how serious he was, Y/n’s demeanor changed. “Wow,” her tone lowered, finger raising to tap her lips. Unable to read her mind since she was a gifted Occulmens like himself, Snape was left to wonder what Y/n was thinking. Truth be told the woman was more impressed than shocked by his proposal. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been rendered speechless, Severus.” Standing, Y/n grabbed her glass and approached the man. “You truly believe this would work? Proposing a marriage between us….” she trailed, glancing at the fire briefly, “is intriguing. Tell me more.”

Snape’s expression remained the same, “It is simply a matter of convenience.” No need to sugar coat it, “We want to keep our secrets hidden. So long as you can assure your sisters stay off my back…..I’ll make sure the Order stays off yours. We play the part of a happy married couple when operating business with the Dark Lord, and I will do everything in my power to get your freedom when this all ends.” 

Y/n liked what she was hearing. The more she thought about it, the more engrossed she became. Marrying Snape wasn’t ideal--as the concept itself she did not care for--but Y/n could not deny the idea made her curious. Plus Severus was handsome, a talented wizard, and obviously, he knew her motives for following Voldemort. What her end goal was. She needed to keep him close. 

“I think I’ll find playing the part of a smitten wife will be rather easy,” she rasped, stepping closer to Snape so their chests were nearly touching. Walking her fingertips up the length of his arm, Y/n leaned closer to Snape which ignited a sharp breath from the man. She smelled of expensive perfume. Their closeness allowed him to see how her eyes turned from their usual coldness to something more lustful. Almost sinister. His reaction made her smirk, “Confident you can manage the same….husband?” 

Now, almost a year later, the two managed to successfully keep their union hidden from the Order. All while any suspicion the Death Eaters had of Snape seemed to disappear. Bellatrix, initially furious and doubtful of their ‘relationship’, soon began to trust him. Still, the witch grimaced each time the pair greeted the other with an affectionate kiss. Or when Y/n took claim to Snape’s lap during meetings. An action which surprised the man himself in the beginning.

Each letter Severus sent was met with one in return, however Y/n was careful to only send her owl in the late hours of the night. When her family was sound asleep. Signing the parchment with only her initials, but instead of B as the ending initial it was S. She’d never admit it aloud, but Y/n felt a sense of comfort with Severus. There was an overwhelming amount of hate in her heart, but the pinch of sanity left in her soul connected to him. Which is not a surprise. He is, of course, the only person who can relate to her. 

Neither would call it love. Y/n possessed no love. And Snape lost his when Lily died. They had mutual respect and care for each other as their partnership grew. Finding the other’s presence calm despite the world around them going to shit. 

The news of Draco’s success in connecting the two cabinets came from Bellatrix’s glee, the woman bursting into the attic with a loud, “It’s time, sister.” Reluctantly, Y/n trailed Bellatrix to Knockturn Alley, where they met several of their associates. 

Dark clouds painted the sky. Thunder rumbling. It set the tone of the evening. 

Y/n stayed stoic the entire journey. Hating every minute, yet doing nothing to escape. Where could she even go? The mark on her arm prevented her from doing so. Until Voldemort was defeated, the only way for her to stay alive was to continue the act of a loyal servant. 

Draco was gone when the group breached the cabinet in a cloud of black smoke. The boy rushed to find Dumbledore and complete his task. He found the man on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. Unaware his longtime rival, Harry Potter, was below him, watching the scene play out. 

The others arrived to witness Draco complete the task, however, in the end Snape was the one to administer the curse. And so the greatest wizard in history fell from the sky. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Severus the entire time. Watching his reaction. When he went through with the unthinkable, Y/n wasted no time in rushing to his side. Cupping his face, she noticed the dissociative expression Snape wore. Mind processing what he had done. “Severus,” he didn’t respond, making her shake his shoulders, “look at me.” Finally he meets her eye and the woman matches his anxious demeanor. “We have to go. Now.” 

Clutching his robe, the two push Draco in the direction of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter rings as she shoots a spell into the sky to bring forth the Dark Lord’s symbol in the clouds. Not long after the tower was surrounded by members of the Order, ensuing a battle between the groups. Y/n tried to avoid dueling as much as possible. Not wanting to harm anyone, especially the kids in the school. 

Cutting the corner after dodging a spell from her niece Nymphadora, Y/n spotted the wretched Fenrir Greyback attacking a man she didn’t recognize. Judging by the wild red hair he possessed, she assumed it was a Weasley. Greyback’s back was toward her, unaware she stood behind him. From the looks of it, the redhead was losing the fight. 

Not sure what came over her at that moment, Y/n raised her wand and shouted, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was flung into the wall behind him, falling unconscious. 

“Bill!” a voice screamed, Y/n turning to see a young woman running to where the Weasley laid. Bloodied and knocked out. Fluer dropped beside him, sobbing at the state of her fiance. She glanced up to see Y/n, immediately becoming frozen with fear while pleading with her to help. “Y-you--H-he’s been--.”

Cursing to herself, Y/n approached the two. “He wasn’t bit,” adjusting her dress skirt, she grabbed the cuffs of Bill’s jacket and gestured for Fluer to help. Together they moved him to a concealed area away from the battle. “He’s been scratched.” Having studied werewolves while in school, the woman was well educated on the subject. Muttering a healing spell, Y/n attempted to at least stop the bleeding, however, she knew the extent of his injuries were serious. “Nevertheless, the wounds are cursed. They’ll scar.” 

Fluer watched her carefully, “W-why are you helping us?” Y/n gave no answer, instead casting a final healing spell before standing up to leave. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement from Greyback, and sent a second stun his way to keep him unconscious. She always hated him, so it gave her great pleasure to pu thim down. 

Truth be told Y/n didn’t know why she helped the injured Weasley. It would have best suited her to get the hell out of there and let whatever outcome happen. Whether that be Greyback killing the man or Bill successfully overpowering the werewolf. But instead, she cursed her associate. Saving the life of ‘the enemy’. 

Several agonizing minutes passed before Y/n managed to escape the tower. At Snape’s order, she ran deep into the forest until she was far enough to apparate. Back at the manor she was immediately questioned by her sister.

“Is Draco okay,” Narcissa grabbed Y/n’s wrist to stop her from escaping to the attic. Eyes glossy with tears, “Did he--.”

“Your son is fine, Narcissa,” she roughly pulled away. “You have my husband to thank for that--he finished the job.” There was immediate relief from Narcissa, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Y/n went straight to the liquor cabinent, taking a glass and pouring a generous amount before downing it. She then refilled the glass, offering it to her sister without a word. Once Narcissa took it Y/n kept the bottle for herself, saying nothing more as she made her way to the attic. 

It wasn’t long before the others arrived. Y/n heard Narcissa’s cry of relief upon seeing Draco. Bellatrix was busy scolding Greyback--something that brought a smile to her face. Other murmurs were made out, but hard to identify with all the noise. Moments later she heard the fast approaching sound of footsteps nearing her door. Jolting from her bed with her wand raised at whoever was about to breach it. Only when it was revealed to be Severus did Y/n lower her guard, rolling her eyes, “What have I told you about--.”

Snape slammed the door shut, muttering a silencing charm which caused Y/n to raise her brow. “We need to talk.” Her guarded expression returned, but Snape beat her before she could question him. “I know you stunned the werewolf to save Weasley.” All movement from the woment seized, frozen in shock.

“How do you know--.”

“I saw you with Miss. Delacour, Y/n,” Snape peers down at her with visible frustration. “Why would you risk such a thing? If you had been caught--.”

“But I wasn’t, Severus,” she interrupts, eyes flicking to the door in fear someone was listening, but then she remembered the spell he cast. “I was careful. You should know better than to underestimate me. And to answer your question….” she turned away from him, hands on her hips as she turned her focus to the woods beyond her window. “I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did--It just happened. Maybe it’s the fact the Weasley’s are distant family. Or because I fucking hate Greyback.” She throws her hands up in defeat,  “Or I want the Order to have all its members to better their chances at winning this damn war. Maybe…” her hands fall back to her sides, “deep down there’s some humanity left in me.” The words were so low it was barely a whisper. Y/n shook her head, the speck of softness replaced with disinterest. 

“Whatever it was,” turning back to him, Y/n narrows her eyes in warning. “It’s no longer our concern. Dumbledore is dead, you killed him.” footsteps echo against the wood as she approaches Snape, noticing his expression change at the mention of the headmaster. “He will be plotting his next move. We need to remain focused--I expect his attention will be on us more now given the circumstances.” 

Snape knows she’s right. Killing Albus only shined a spotlight on him, and in turn on Y/n. He was now labeled public enemy #1 in the eyes of the Order. Voldemort himself will likely turn to Snape. They will have to up their game, continuing the act of a happy couple. Well happy as one can be in the middle of a war. 

That summer was endless torture following the Headmaster’s death. Y/n not only had to deal with Voldemort growing stronger, but also the return of Lucius from Azkaban. It did bring the witch great joy to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and matted hair. One year in prison did a number on him. 

Lucky for Lucius it was only one year. Had it been 15 like Y/n, he’d surely gone mad. Thankfully the two rarely saw each other. Not long after his release following Dumbledore’s death Y/n moved into Severus' home. Only returning to the mansion when necessary. 

At every Death Eater meeting Y/n had to fight yawning with how bored she was, keeping her expression blank even when addressed by Voldermort from time to time. The man wasn’t blind. Well aware the youngest Black was not as forthcoming with her praises to him like Bellatrix. Never voicing her opinions, while also keeping any objections to herself like a smart person would do. He never fully trusted her. Even though she was married to one of his most trusted advisors, something in the back of his mind told Voldemort she’d be the first to turn on him. Without proof, Voldemort kept a close eye.

The meeting tonight was just like any other. Seated at the massive dining table in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort at the head while the Black’s and Malfoy’s flanked to the right. Y/n seated beside Draco, far from her sisters. Very telling of her attitude towards them.

Severus was the last to arrive, dark cloak tailing behind him. His entrance caught everyone’s attention, while his was on his colleague hanging in the air. Muggle studies professor Charity Burbage. The wounds on her body indicated she had been subjected to torture. 

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted, “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” The headmaster took claim to the only free chair at the table, bidding a look to his wife, to which she slightly shook her head. Silently saying, “I had no part in this.”

Voldemort then said, “Do you bring news, I trust?”

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.”

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” Yaxley interrupted at the other end of the table, then proceeds to say he believes Harry will be moved at the end of the month. The 30th of July. The day before his 17th birthday.

“This is a false trail,” Snape insists. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. “Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

The Death Eater seated beside Y/n laughed, “Well, they got that right aren’t they.” Several at the table joined in the laughter. The youngest Black’s expression was tight, plastered with annoyance. 

“What’s say you, Pius?” Voldemort addresses the man seated at the opposite head of the table. 

Nagini curled herself next to the chair as he answered, “One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Voldemort chuckles.

“Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” The Death Eater appears pleased by the compliment. Voldemort turns back to Snape, “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house. Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible, once there it will be impractical to attack him.”

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Bellatrix. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” She leans against the table, voice dropping, “I want to kill the boy.”

“Of course you would,” Y/n thinks to herself, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Frankly she found her sister to be stupid to ask such a thing. Considering Voldemort mentions his desire to kill Harry Potter everyday. And with the prophecy, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else the opportunity to do the deed. 

In the back, Charity let out a haunting groan, causing Voldermort to shout, “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest’s quiet?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man spoke with urgency. “Right away, my Lord.” As he scurried off, Voldemort returned his attention to Bellatrix. 

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” the hope was clear in her eyes, disappearing with his next words. “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” With that she curled back into her seat, Y/n’s lips raising in a satisfied smirk.

“But,” he rises from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication.” As much as Y/n wanted to tune out this conversation, the nature of it was hard to dismiss. Especiall when the man walked behind the chairs on her side of the table. Brushing past her sisters before ending beside Lucius. There was satisfaction seeing him visibly afraid of Voldemort. A smirk on her lips when he was to give up his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession.

Her expression shifted when Charity’s brought to the center of the table. Death Eaters laughing at her despair and cringing with disgust at her profession. Y/n moves her gaze to Severus, who’s emotionless to Charity’s pleas. Then when the woman’s killed and her body drops to the table, Y/n lifts her hand to grasp Draco’s wrist. Squeezing it in warning for him to control himself when she sees his distraught state in the corner of her eyes. 

The action surprises the boy. Draco sucking in a breath and forcing himself to relax. Once he does, Y/n removes her touch and waits to be dismissed by Voldemort. As soon as the order is given she’s quick to leave the table, taking Snape’s outstretched hand where he apparates them back home. 

“How do you plan--?” he doesn’t let her finish the question.

“I have it covered.” Moving to his study, he hears her footsteps behind him, Y/n slamming the door shut once they’ve entered. He looked annoyed, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” she shouted, making him clench his jaw. Ever since the incident at the Astronomy tower the two had been on edge with each other. For one, the Order discovered their marriage causing Y/n to lose her shit. Now she was public enemy #2 in their eyes. Or 3 if you count Voldermort at the top. Her odds of the Order leaving her the fuck alone decreased immensly. 

Second, Snape told her of his and Dumbledore’s arrangement. That the headmaster asked Snape to kill him. A secret Y/n had trouble wrapping her head around and prayed to a higher power no one, especially Bellatrix, found out about. 

Crossing over to him where he stood at his desk, Y/n caught his wrist to make him look at her. “In case you have forgotten, dear husband, we are playing both sides right now. You say you want to protect Harry Potter…just how do you plan to do that during an ambush you helped orchestrate? What the hell are we supposed to do if Harry Potter dies at his hands Saturday next?” Y/n squeezed his wrist tighter, “I’m putting all my trust into Severus Snape. You promised me my freedom when this was all over.” 

“I haven’t forgotten, Y/n,” he removes himself from her grip, “You say you trust me. Do so, and you won’t be let down.”

Y/n didn’t know where it all went wrong. One moment she was flying in the sky, the next she’s being rammed into by Bill Weasley’s Thestral. Pain erupted in her chest, likely from a broken rib and caught herself on the creature's satchel. Her hand is then grabbed by the imposter Harry seated behind Bill, keeping Y/n steady to prevent falling to her death. Using her talent of legitimins, Y/n identifies the imposter as Bill’s fiance Fluer. 

“You’re not Harry Potter,” she whispers, causing Harry (Fluer) to widen her eyes. The accusation was confirmed when Fluer’s voice responded, “How did you know?” Before Y/n could answer, however, the world around her became black. Having been stunned by Bill who realized what was happening behind him.  

Acting fast, Fluer reached with her other hand to further grasp Y/n’s now limp body onto the Thestral. 

“What are you doing?” Bill shouted over the chaos, “She’s one of them!”

“And she saved your life in the Astronomy tower, William!” Fluer screamed back. Using all her might, she hauled Y/n over the bottom half of the creature. Gripping the material of her robes and dress while ducking at the incoming curses around them. 

When they finally made it to the Burrow, the shaky landing caused Fluer to lose her hold. Y/n fell to the ground, still unconscious. Bruises were sure to form on her body. Bill leaped off the Thestral, helped Fluer off and rushed to Y/n. After confirming she was alive by pressing his fingers to her pulse, the oldest Weasley took the death eater into his arms and followed Fluer into the house. But not before telling Fluer to take her wand which had been discarded into a ditch.

“Wait here,” he said, placing Y/n in the care of Fluer by setting her on a bench outside the door, Bill entered to find the others gathered around an injured George. After the shock wore off of his brother’s state, Bill announced the death of Mad-eye and departure of Mundungus. Deepening the already intense mood.

“There’s something else,” he hesitated, eyes flickering to find everyone staring at him with unease. They watched Bill exit the house, only to return a second later dragging the last person they ever expected. Gasps rang out, wands drawn in Y/n’s direction. The witch barely conscious but fighting against Bill’s hold. Eventually succumbing to sleep once again due to the pounding in her head. 

With the help of Remus, the two propped Y/n in a chair, casting a spell to bind her hands and legs. “Where’s her wand?” Remus urgently looked around, relieved to see the object in Fluer’s possession. He turned to Bill, “What the hell happened?”

As the oldest Weasley explained, Molly approached the woman, assessing her carefully. Y/n had dirt and grime in her hair. A small cut to her temple. Likely from a rock when she fell from the Threstral. Her breathing was shaky, pained groans escaping her mouth which Molly assumed was from trauma to her chest. Although the others were against it, Molly began performing healing spells on Y/n, “Had it not been for her my son would be dead! I do not care what side she is on--I shall offer the same courtesy.” 

The group was alerted to Y/n’s consciousness twenty minutes later when she groaned. Shifting in the chair, her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening to bright lights. Moaning, Y/n straightened up aware of the audience in front of her, however she did not appear concerned. Even with several wands pointing at her. “Hmmmph,” she blinks a few times, settling her gaze on Remus, “what an unpleasant situation we have here. I hoped to be dead before experiencing this.”

It pained Remus to hear her words. Thinking back to that little girl he’d met on the corner of Diagon Alley with James, perched on Sirius’ hip. That little girl was gone. In her place was a woman with the Devil on her shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.”

Tilting her head as though she found his statement funny, she replies “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?” rolling her eyes she adds, “Surely you could’ve come up with something better.”

Remus sighed, realizing it was about to be a long night. “We’re willing to negotiate terms if you provide us with information. A lesser sentence if you will,” he chose his next words carefully, seeing her demenor shift, “so long as you are upfront and answer all of our questions with honesty.” Y/n’s face tightened, no longer humored. Remus felt his stomach lurch, not breaking the intense eye contact she set with him.

“You threaten me--.”

“It’s not a threat--,” he insists but Y/n continues.

“With a cell in Azkaban and expect me to comply? By being a snitch?” she shakes her head, eyes full of fury. “Go to hell, Remus Lupin.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh?” She grumbles with a glare, “and how else do you suggest it be? I’m not stupid--a tad mad if we want to get technical, but you all have yourselves to blame for that.” Y/n was referring to the Order not taking her in during the First Wizarding War. Sirius warned them of his family and the Death Eaters recruiting her at a young age. Yet no attempt to protect Y/n was initiated. 

The werewolf’s face fell, “Had we known--.”

“Known what?!” She jumped forward in her chair as the dam of pent up resentment and anger broke, making several flinch at the sudden movement. A few wands pointed up but she paid them no mind. “That I’d become a Death Eater against my will? That I’d be forced to use the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms or face my sister’s wrath?” She spat with ferocity. Pupils nearly pitch black it made her appear demonic. “You knew what my family was like! Sirius knew--It’s why he left! And you did nothing to save me.” Leaning back in the chair, Y/n finished with, “Go ahead and kill me. I’m not telling you shit.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, his patience running thin and stress levels rising. “Y/n, I’m trying to help you here. We’re giving you the opportunity to avoid a lifetime in jail if you help us--help us end this war.” When his efforts are exhausted Remus gestures to the man behind him, “Kingsley has Veritaserum and we will use it if necessary.”  Now this has her smirking, chin raising in challenge. 

“Go ahead,” her voice lowers an octave, sending chills along his arms, “I welcome you to.” Weary of her acceptance, the adult members of the Order all exchange looks before Kingsley approaches. Y/n tilts her head back, watching Kingsley unscrew the vial and pour the tiny amount of liquid onto her tongue. Once it’s entered her stream, the woman cracks her neck and returns her attention to Remus. 

He clasped his hands in his lap, leaning in his chair. “How’d you know about tonight?”

Y/n pretends to think, “I think I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Yeah,” she nods her head, acting serious. “That was it.” 

Remus’s own head falls to his chest, the others visibly confused. The potion was to make her tell the truth. Pretty much against her will. Thinking it may have not settled in yet, Remus asks another question. “Who told him we were moving Harry?” 

Deciding to play along, Y/n shrugs her shoulders, “Yaxley.” Lie. She held back a chuckle at his confused reaction.

“How did he know?”

“Overheard it.” Lie.

“Where?”

“Diagon Alley I assume.” Lie.

“From who?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“But he’s the one who told Voldemort.” Y/n rolled her eyes at that, gesturing to her binded hands.

“Obviously since we’re sitting in this predicament.” She sees the frustration on Remus, as well as the others. Yet, the witch couldn’t help but feel entertained. “Anything else?”

“What’s your relationship to Severus Snape?” 

“He’s my husband,” She didn’t miss the way the Order reacted to the news. Upset but not surprised. No point in lying. They already knew about their marriage from what Snape told her. The truth of why, however, was still a secret. 

“Why did he kill Dumbledore?” Harry stepped forward, drawing her attention to him. Anger was written all over his face. Filled with absolute hatred. Something Y/n had expected when her husband murdered the man he looked up to. 

“You were there, right?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “Snape mentioned you’d been below the observatory deck.” Tsking, Y/n surveyed him. She was getting under his skin. “Why do you think he did it?”

“I think he did it to save himself. He was a coward,” Harry saw the way her face tightened. Taking offense to his words. A mere speck of what someone could label as affection or respect to her spouse. 

“Severus Snape is many things,” she sounded sinister, anger seeping off every word. “But a coward is not one of them.”

“Fat lot of good coming from you.” Harry antagonized her. “You hightailed it out of the ministry when Sirius died. He was your own cousin.”

“My cousin who left me a sitting duck for the wolves,” Y/n reminded the boy, temper rising. An indicator with how her voice was strained. “Let’s not forget you all thought he was responsible for betraying your parents. Didn’t even hesitate to believe he was guilty.” That cut them all deep. “And I adored Sirius at one point in life. Much like you, Harry Potter,” she let out a deep sigh, attempting to calm herself, “look at where it got me.” Exhaustion was beginning to take over the witch. Her body ached and there was a pounding in her head. Molly’s healing spells worked to patch any internal injuries Y/n had, but she still was drained from the whole ordeal. 

They were getting off track. Having had enough of the tension, Remus butted in, “Answer the question, Y/n. Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know,” she simply stated. Lie. “He didn’t say. Although…I can only assume it was to spare my poor nephew.” Another shrug, “And survive the unbreakable vow. Which you already know of.” 

Harry shook his head, “I don’t believe you.” His gut was telling him there was more to the story. 

“Harry, she took the Veritaserum,” Hermoine pointed out gently, missing the flicker of amusement from Y/n. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Hermoine’s right, Harry,” Ron agreed, moving beside his friend. “There’s no way she could be lying.”

“How much did you give her, Kingsley?” Arthur questioned, also suspicious of Y/n’s answers. Kingsley held up the vial. More than half was consumed.

“Enough.”

“Something’s off,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. A bickering match ensued between members of the Order. Harry, Arthur, and even Y/n’s niece, Tonks, had difficulty believing Y/n told the truth. The majority, however, voiced opposition. 

“Veritaserum is a very potent and strong potion, Harry,” Remus stood from his chair, but before he could say anything else, Y/n’s voice took over.

“Which you just wasted.”

Silence consumes the room. Processing what she said. That’s not possible.

Heads turning to the witch, Y/n starts to chuckle in delight. A sight unnerving to the Order as it becomes more deranged. Harry looked to his friends for an answer, but they were just as perplexed as him. Y/n’s voice turns taunting, “Oh my, you lot really are daft at times. Have you forgotten? Or did you believe it to be a rumor?” Her grin is wicked, finding the scene entertaining much to their dismay. “I’m a skilled Occulmens.” 

It was as though the dementors arrived with how cold the air became. Everyone falters, stilling at the revelation. It could only mean one thing:

Everything Y/n said potentially was a lie. 

The Death Eater tsked, “What do you think I did with all that time I had rotting in the middle of the ocean?” she laughs again, more menacingly. “Your little potion is useless! My mind is more protected than Azkaban. For all you know I fabricated everything I just told you.” Her taunting laugh continues, shredding the last ounce of patience the Order had for her. 

Remus kneeled in front of her chair and smacked the table, causing everyone besides Y/n to flinch. “Enough of these games! I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt knowing you’d been forced into this life, but you have proven to be not so different from your associates.” Now that was a nail to the coffin. Any and all of Remus’s hope for Y/n having some level of good in her gone. “This is your final warning--or we will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life for good!”

Never straying her stare, the Death Eater murmered cooly, “You have no idea how reasonable I’ve been.” This time it was Remus’s turn to scoff.

“Holding children hostage at the Ministry, attacking Hogwarts, marrying Snape, and sending assassins after the officials who locked you up,” He lists off, surprising the Order with the last detail. They had heard rumors of Azkaban guards and Ministry officials killed in the last few months, but assumed it was Bellatrix. “I don’t see how that’s being reasonable.”

Y/n gave a sound that was a mix of a chuckle and scoff, leaning forward in her chair. “Sending those assassins after them instead of myself was mercy.” A chill rose, Harry’s intuition telling him something was about to happen. “And despite your hypocrises and insults I have warned you time and time again to simply get out of my way.” Remus saw her hands fidget, tightening his grip on his wand. 

“You’ve exhausted my patience,” Her voice lowered once more, almost to a whisper as her bottom lip quivered. “But I do hope you understand…that even now--with what’s about to happen…..” lips curled into a deathly smirk. “This is me being…reasonable.”

Faster than the speed of light, Y/n casts a non-verble, wandless spell that mimics a gust a powerful wind, ripping the binds off her hands and ankles. Remus flies onto his back, the lights flicker and burst. The windows and glass shatter. Papers fly. Hermoine screams, echoing amongst the shouts as Ron pulls her into his arms. Molly leaning over an injured George to protect him from shards. 

 Fluer gasps at the feeling of Y/n’s wand in her hand ripped from her. The death eater had snapped her fingers in the chaos with a non-verbal Accio.

With her wand now in her possession, Y/n unleashes another bout of wind, crippling the Order from attacking her. Once satisfied she makes her escape. Black smoke fills the room before flying out the window and into the night sky. The storm inside the burrow seizing. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron coughs, catching his breath. 

“That,” Kingsley stands up straight, sore from colliding with the wall which knocked him down. “Was the closest thing to experiencing the Devil on Earth.”

Tags: @unloved-and-outspoken

[andillneverbethesame]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒔.

❥ harry potter x fem!reader

❥ summary; you didn't want to break his heart but you had to

❥ warnings; none really

❥ a/n; 99% based off champagne problems by taylor swift!!

"your ticket, please," said the ticket collector. it was loud enough for the young man to hear but he remained still, staring out of the window. "sir?"

harry's head snapped to the man's direction. "oh, yes, sorry." his hand quickly found it 's way into the pocket of his jacket. unconsiously, while grabbing the little paper, his fingers also wrapped around a tiny box and when he gave opened his hand to give the collector his ticket, it fell onto the floor.

harry stared at it for a moment and the man chuckled, realising what was inside.

"i can see why you're so lost in your thoughts," said the man. "i'm sure she'll say yes. good luck!"

"she said—" before harry could finish the sentence, the door of the compartment closed, "no."

he sighed and glanced back at the black box between his feet, wondering if it would matter if he simply left it there. maybe some man finds it and will be lucky, not like me, he thought. but he bent and picked it up anyway. it was his mother's ring after all.

——————————————————————

the way back to london was endless.

earlier that night, harry was joined by two young men and women who seemed that they couldn't shut their mouths no matter what. harry wanted to pack his things and find another compartment. he wanted to sleep and let himself dream that things went differently.

but now, that everyone but him was asleep, harry wanted nothing more but to be a part of a conversation that didn't involve relationships, marriage, kids or anyone named y/n. his thoughts didn't let him fall asleep no matter how much he tried.

——————————————————————

"want to go somewhere more quiet?" harry whispered in your ear, making you shiver and at the same time, setting your skin on fire under his warm touch on your upper arm.

you turned around and smiled. "now, harry, that would be so inappropriate from me," you pointed at the small tiara ginny put on your head earlier. "it's my birthday party."

your boyfriend put on a puppy face. "please?"

you rolled your eyes and chuckled. you put your hand in his open one. "how could i say no to that face?" you glanced back at your friends who were sitting at the same table as you. "excuse me, everyone."

ron, hermione and luna all sniggered and then winked at you. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but you blamed it at the alcohol.

harry lead you outside on the driveway in front of your parents's house. his other hand travelled to your lower back and you put yours on his shoulder.

"have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" harry stared into your eyes. blood rushed into your cheeks and you only hoped the dim light from the lamp post wasn't bright enough for him to see how he makes you feel.

"about a million times," you responded. "but it won't hurt to hear it again."

"you really look enchanting. i don't know how i got this lucky." before you could respond, harry pulled you into a deep kiss, leaving you breathless.

"what's gotten into you, huh?" you asked after catching you breath. "not that i don't like it."

"it's a special day."

you shrugged. "only my birthday."

"maybe not only that."

you raised your eyebrow. "huh? what?"

instead of responding verbally, harry lowered himself and got on one knee.

you snorted. "babe, what are you doing? get up!" he didn't. he pulled a tiny black box out of the pocket of his suit and opened it.

a gasp left your mouth at the sight of a ring you recognised. you've seen it before. it was his mother's.

"harry. . ." in all the shock, it felt impossible to say anything else.

the boy couldn't hear the tone in your voice. the one that obviously said, "please, don't continue, i don't want to break your heart."

"y/n, i've said it before and here i am kneeling before you, saying it again; the years we've spent together were the best years of my life. and i want to feel this way until my last day. because only with you, i can die happy. so. . . y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?"

you stared at him, wide eyed with your mouth open. you definitely didn't see this coming when he lead you outside. however, you were sure of your answer.

"y/n?" the smile he had before was slowly fading away from his face with every passing second you took to answer.

you shook your head. "no, harry, not now."

the look in his eyes broke your heart. "what? what do you mean?"

you sighed, turned around and started walking away from him. he got up and you heard him running to you. he got a hold of your hand, making you turn around once again.

"you can't just reject me and leave like that without any explanation, y/n."

"i'm sorry, harry, i really am!" tears threatened to fall out of your eyes.

"i don't want to hear you're sorry," harry was crying by this point. "i want to hear why you don't want to marry me."

"we're too young, harry, i am not ready for this kind of commitment yet!" you explained.

"young?" harry repeated loudly. "we're twenty. my parents got engaged straight after finishing their n.e.w.t.s exams!"

"and that's great if that worked for them, but i am not your mum and you, as much as you look like him, are not your dad. we are not them, harry! i'm sorry if you don't want to hear that but that's the truth!"

"i can't believe this," harry retorted. "were you ever even planning on marrying me? was i even in the image when you imagined your future?"

"of course, you were," you tried to calm him down. you reached for his hand but he backed away before your fingers could even connect. "it's just too early."

"it's never early when it's the one," he claimed. "i'm gonna ask you a question and i want a brutally honest answer. am i the one for you?"

"yes! yes, you are!" you cried out. by this moment, your mascara was smudged and you were having trouble seeing clearly through the tears. "never in my life have i had any doubts about that. harry, i do want to spend the rest of my life with you. and we will get married, but just not now."

"well," harry put the ring back into his pocket. "i don't want to wait." and with that, he left you out there standing.

when he was out of sight, you, very slowly, made your way back into the house.

cheering was the first thing you heard when you walked into the living room. hermione splashed out on the bottle. but after everyone got a good look at the state you were in, everyone stopped celebrating.

"y/n? what happened? where's harry?" ron asked.

"he's gone. forever."

——————————————————————

"so, she just said. . . no?" lily, harry's mum, asked for what felt like millionth time.

"yes, mum," harry mumbled, his fork playing with the potatoes on his plate.

"but i just don't understand. why?"

"she said she wasn't ready."

james potter snorted. "what a stupid excuse."

lily still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that you won't be her daughter in law. "but she would've made such a lovely bride."

"yeah," sirius black agreed. "what a shame she 's fucked in the head."

"sirius," harry glared at him.

"what?" the man put his hands up in defense. "i'm just saying, if she had a common sense, she would've said yes in a heartbeat."

harry shrugged. "maybe, it's for the best. guess it wouldn't work when we both want something else."

——————————————————————

2 years & 7 months later.

this was the worst date of your life.

you weren't even listening to the man sitting in front of you. all he did was talk about himself. he didn't even ask you a question. he doesn't know a thing about you while you knew everything about him. even the name of his grandma.

"y/n, if you excuse me, i'll go use the toilet."

you faked a smile and nodded. "alright."

"be right back."

"oh, you don't have to be," you said under your breath while you watched him leave.

you looked around the restaurant, thinking and searching for something that could get you out of the situation. just then, you heard it. the voice you haven't heard in almost three years.

"y/n?"

he looked the same like the night you broke up, just a bit older. he wore the same glasses that made his eyes bigger. he was dressed in a black suit and he looked so charming as always.

what caught you off guard was the girl who was standing next to him. ginny looked so much more mature now. her red hair was in braid. she wore long dark green dress that almost matched her eyes. she looked magnificent.

they looked magnificent together.

"wow, harry, ginny," you were speechless. "hi."

you hadn't seen anyone from harry's friend group for a while. you and hermione occasionally called but that was it. interesting she didn't mention this.

"what are you doing here?" harry asked but before you could answer, your date came back.

"um, martin, meet old friends of mine — harry and ginny. harry, ginny, this is martin."

after they all shook the other's hands and exchanged all their "nice to meet you"'s, the couple excused themselves and went to sit down so they could order their dinner. suddenly, you didn't want to leave the restaurant so much anymore. something kept you there.

while martin went on to talk about his job, you pretended to listen while keeping an eye at the table harry and ginny sat at.

you couldn't help but wonder how the hell did this happen. questions came flooding into your brain. how? when? is it serious? are they engaged? how long after you shattered harry's heart did they start dating? do harry's parents like her more than they liked you? is he happier with her than he was with you?

about an hour later, you saw harry getting on one knee for the second time in his life.

you couldn't see ginny's face but you knew by the look in harry's eyes that this proposal is going a different way than when he proposed to you. you also couldn't help but to notice that it was the same tiny black box and the same ring.

but everything was different.

ginny nodded and pulled harry into a deep kiss.

you hoped that she'll patch up the tapestry you shred, that she stitches his heart right back up. and that he won't remember all your champagne problems.

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - CJ Braxton Prompt Response

Summary: You had only meant to call once, remaining anonymous while feeling out the whole helpline thing for yourself. Now, you talk to CJ every Friday night around the same time. When you don't call one Friday, CJ is worried and comes looking for you which presents its own host of problems.

Pairing: CJ Braxton x Female!Reader; CJ Braxton x College Student!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I initially wasn't going to write anything for CJ but this idea popped into my head for this prompt and I just had to write it. And I absolutely fell in love with the dynamic between CJ and the reader (and had so much fun with this). Please forgive any timeline tomfoolery or anything time wise that makes you go "huh?"; I was trying to make this work throughout the season from CJ's entry into the show (and his conversation with Jen about the helpline) to the end.

I wasn't much of a Dawson's Creek person back in the day (I still haven't seen seasons 2-5), so I hope this came out alright. I tried to keep it as 2000-ish as possible. I remember back in the day not everyone had a cell phone like Dawson, Audrey, and Pacey (though a lot of people were getting them moving into the beginning of the decade) so that rule kind of applied here so to speak.

This is meant to take place during s6 before Jen joins The Stand.

Sequel here

Warnings: implied sex; panic attacks; implied anxiety

Word Count: 15k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

CJ Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ Alec version ✨ SDV Leah version

You glanced at the clock, seeing it was 6:59. One more minute and you’d pick up the phone as you did every Friday night and make the call you always did. Your nerves thrummed in anticipation as you stared down the clock, willing the numbers to turn.

Eventually, you got your wish and as soon as the 7 appeared on the clock face you picked up the phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart. After a few rings, the call finally connected. 

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey.”

“There she is.” You could hear his own smile in his tone as he recognized you. “How are you, Jo?”

You winced at the fake name you had given him. At the time, you had quickly scrambled and chose the first name that came to mind. Granted, Joey Potter was in the same school as you so you weren’t too worried about him finding out about either of you seeing as he was from Boston Bay. But as you had talked with him more and more, you really wished you hadn’t given him any name but your own. Even if you were beyond terrified; you felt bad for lying to him.

Why should it matter, right? He was a volunteer counselor for a teen helpline at another college. Why would you care what this one person thought out of you?

Well, unbeknownst to him, you had seen him once and you knew who he was. Thanks to Joey and Audrey’s friendship with Jen, you had come to hear quite a bit about the cute tall guy whose voice made your heart rate speed up way too fast. Jen had even invited him out to a house party and that was when you saw him for the first time. Your nerves got to you and you bounced before one of your friends could make an introduction. Partly because you were afraid he would recognize you from your voice and immediately put a face to the name and possibly be disappointed or worse: he’d know you lied to him. So you avoided him at all costs — well, in person.

It wasn’t like you had planned for this to happen, where you would call a helpline weekly just to speak to a certain boy. That’s not how this started at all.

When you got to Worthington, you were homesick, overwhelmed, and overall terrified. While you eventually eased into the college student lifestyle and Boston was now home, you never really got past the overwhelmed feeling, and terrified had dialed down to being anxious all the time: anxious that you would mess up, anxious that you would fail, anxious that your future wouldn’t turn out the way you planned — all of it. There were days you felt like you were just scraping by, barely making a passing grade (though your final grade usually proved you wrong), and you felt like you were some sort of imposter who was soon to be found out and didn’t really belong. Meeting Joey and her roommate, Audrey Liddell, who lived down the hall from you, helped some, and their introducing you to their group of friends helped even more. But there were still times that you just felt…tightly wound and about to snap. As if you had too many balls in the air and you were about to trip, and all the balls would fall to the ground.

So when Jen mentioned to the group about some guy wanting her to join a teen helpline for the college, you quietly paid attention. She laughed it off — his approach, not the helpline — and she didn’t think she would be right for it so that was that. While everyone else began to talk and laugh about another topic, the wheels in your head slowly started to turn inside your head. A helpline where you could remain anonymous and talk to someone who would listen and could possibly even help. You knew your school most likely had one of those but you wouldn’t even dream of risking it. But a helpline elsewhere where you could talk to someone who maybe understood how you were feeling most of the time, maybe experienced similar things, and you were able to stay anonymous? That you could look into.

After much back and forth in your mind over it, you took the leap and made the call one Friday night after a particularly rough week. You really didn’t think anyone would pick up, it was close to 7:00 and most college kids were either out or getting ready to go out…right?

Before you could answer your own question to yourself, the line connected.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You did what any other person would do; you promptly hung up. You stared at your phone in terror. Someone had picked up. A guy. Just when you were convincing yourself that this was stupid and you needed to take a chill pill and deal.

You argued with yourself in your head for about another minute, hemming and hawing over it all. Wasn’t the whole point of you calling to try to do something about how you’d been feeling? You supposed you could always see a therapist here in town but that could be costly, even with insurance. You also had no desire to tell your parents because they would respond the same way they did the last time you tried to allude to how overwhelmed you were when you had returned home for the summer.

“You should be grateful you got into such a great school, Y/N. Most people would kill to be in your position, going after their degree. You don’t see your classmates moping about, do you? Just because they have classes and homework,” your mother had made sure to prick you with that pin of guilt. “Make the best of it.”

“You know what I think? I think you need to get yourself some friends and then you’ll stop focusing on this so much. If you have nothing to fill your time, of course your mind is going to obsess over what you’re viewing as negative. Try to join a club or a social group. They have keggers all the time. I remember back when I was in college. It was party city every weekend. Maybe let loose a little one of these Saturday nights and things will start to get better. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even make some friends.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you mumbled, tossing your overeasy egg onto its side with your fork, your eyes trained on your plate. You knew he was just trying to help — they both were — but their attitude seemed to imply that you could simply hit an off switch somewhere and you’d stop feeling so overwhelmed. If only.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to take their advice. You had gone to some frat party and it had been one of the worst experiences of your life. You weren’t a big drinker and you weren’t really a party person in general. You didn’t really recognize anyone from your classes or your dorm and the music was so loud, it seemed like a ridiculous notion to try to approach someone and start a conversation. Not something you were very good at anyway. You had no idea how to play the drinking games you saw, other than what you’d seen on TV, and you didn’t want to do something to mess up anyone’s scores if you didn’t do it right. Then some hulk of a guy accidentally knocked into you, deluging you in beer, and he was so drunk, he didn’t even apologize, just kept on going. After about an hour (and the unintended beer bath), you decided to call it quits.  

That night, you had gone back to your dorm room which was blissfully empty, taken a hot shower, and then sobbed into your pillow. So much so that when a drunken Audrey accidentally stumbled into your room, she saw your tear-stained face when your head snapped up and immediately asked what was wrong and why you were crying in her room of all things. Despite the back and forth over whose room it actually was and her drunken state along with the slurring of her words, you two actually kind of hit it off. Before long she had you laughing, something you felt like you hadn’t done in some time. She passed out in your roommate’s bed, much to your roommate’s chagrin, but when Audrey’s boyfriend and roommate came to get her the next morning, you figured that had been it. Your one social interaction with someone who didn’t look at you as an unwanted intruder every single day (like your roommate) or like you were some loner weirdo (like most of your classmates). You knew that Audrey would probably either ignore you the next time she ran into you or she wouldn’t remember you at all. 

Boy, had you been wrong. The day after her hangover, she had been knocking on your door, smiling and telling you that you were going out with her for the night. Just like that. She introduced you to her roommate, Joey, and their group of friends. You had been inducted into their group of friends, just like that.

Eventually, Jen mentioned the helpline that one night and now here you were, staring at the phone as if it was about to come to life and do a dance or something. You waited a few more minutes, deciding you’d try again and hopefully get someone else. There couldn’t be only one person answering phones at a helpline, could there? That would make for some backed up phone traffic and not a good look for a helpline at all. Maybe you’d be lucky and the guy would have already had another caller he was speaking to so another counselor would have to pick up.

When the clock turned to 7:11, you slowly picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number again. You began to jiggle your leg as you waited for the line to connect.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

Oh crap. You froze.

“Hello?”

What did you do? You wanted to hang the phone up again but you were unable to. 

“Hello?” He asked again.

No. You were going to be a mature adult about this and answer him. Just as soon as you could breathe. You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and exhaled a breath.

“Look, if you’re in trouble or can’t talk, just hit a button. Any button will work.” A minute passed while you were trying to breathe, getting ready to talk. “If you don’t have a crisis and you’re not calling to speak to someone here, then I think you should hang up and let other people who need us call in. No use in tying up the phone lines.”

Another minute passed. You really were trying your hardest to get words out but your chest was tight and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your heart was racing yet you were frozen. This happened sometimes but usually you were by yourself, not with someone waiting for you to speak on the other end of the phone line. It also happened a couple of times while you were out with your friends, but usually you hid out in a bathroom stall until it passed and then you left to go back to your dorm with the excuse of a test the next day or a project due, whatever you could come up with on the fly. You didn’t understand why it was happening to you right now, though.

“Alright, I’m going to hang up now.”

You smashed a key on your phone so fast that you heard a loud annoying sound in your ear. Immediately, the guy’s tone changed. 

“Okay, I’m here. If you’re in trouble, hit the key again. If you’re not but can’t talk at the moment, don’t hit it.”

You didn’t hit any more keys and gasped for air that just wasn’t coming.

“Good. I’m glad you’re okay. Is someone in the room with you and that’s why you can’t talk? If so, hit the key again.” 

You moved over to your bed and laid down. That was the fastest way to get your body to relax when you had the option you’d found out.

“Okay, so you’re alone but you can’t talk but you’re not in trouble. Can you just try to say one word or make a sound so I know you’re really okay?” 

You removed your hand from the mouthpiece. “T-Trying,” you rasped out. Holy crap, this was a bad episode you were having. You were completely mortified. Perhaps you really should hang up. You were worried, though, that now he might notify someone or think you really were prank calling the helpline. Either way, you were bound to get in trouble and even more embarrassed, and that just made your chest tighter.

“Okay. That’s good. I’ll take that. Do you have asthma or something similar?” 

Great. That’s how bad you’d sounded; he thought you might actually have some sort of breathing issue. Well, technically, you were struggling to breathe right now so it made sense that he would think that but if he only knew the actual answer was something that was beyond ridiculous and couldn’t be explained away as something as serious as asthma. 

“No,” you whispered, rubbing at the spot in your chest where a mix of discomfort and a heavy-rock-feeling sat. 

“And you’re sure you don’t need to go to the hospital to get checked out?” He sounded concerned now. 

“No,” you repeated, staring up at your ceiling, your vision blurring with building tears. All you wanted to do was give this helpline thing a shot since nothing else seemed to be working, and here you had gone and made it so much worse. On top of that, you were frustrated that you couldn’t even do something as simple as answer a person when they said hello on a phone call that you made to them. What was wrong with you? 

“Okay. That’s good. Why don’t I talk for a minute so you can relax?” A tear slipped down your cheek when you realized he must have heard your heavy exhales over the phone. “Like I said before, my name is CJ. I’ve been with the helpline for a while now. I’m here four days a week. I try to schedule shifts around my classes and pick up a few extra when I’m able. Before you called, I was doing some reading for my Philosophy class. It’s not my major but I had to take another humanities course. It was that or religion so…philosophy it was.”

You closed your eyes and focused on his voice. It was actually very soothing and it was helping.

“Between you and me, I’m not the best student.” Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling, listening intently. “I mean, I do okay in terms of grades, but I’m not exactly a frequent flier on the Dean’s list.” He chuckled and after a moment, he asked, “How about you?”

You swallowed, feeling the slightest bit of easing up on your chest, almost if it was allowing the words through. “I do okay.” You didn’t sound as raspy as before but you still had a faint wheeze at the end. You were coming out of this, slowly but surely.

“That’s good. College sure isn’t easy, by any means. When midterms roll around, I always get a little more stressed. I usually have to blow off some steam to keep it all balanced, you know? Or else I get easily overwhelmed. I have to remind myself to take it one class at a time, one day at a time. But easier said than done sometimes, right?”

“Right.” You knew what he was doing but since it seemed to be helping, you played along. He was getting to the heart of the issue while also giving you time to come back down. You’d only been on the phone with him for close to ten minutes and already you felt much better than you had when the call started. 

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

“A little.” 

“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Is my being the one to talk helping any?”

“Actually…yeah,” you breathed out. 

“Does this happen a lot?”

You bit at your lip, not really wanting to admit it, but you had called for this very reason, hadn’t you? “Yeah.”

“Around midterms or anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“Even when you’re not in school?”

“Sometimes,” you whispered. “But mostly when I’m here.”

“So school related then?”

“Kind of.”

He was quiet for a moment and you wondered if you had said something wrong or if he was looking instructions up in a pamphlet or something for this sort of thing. 

“Hey, did you see Phantom Menace when it came out last year?”

That caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected to switch gears so quickly. “Um, no?”

“You’re not a Star Wars fan, I take it?”

He didn’t sound disappointed so you chalked that up to being a good thing. Most guys you’d met either were completely into Star Wars or weren’t into it at all. “I don’t know if I’d call myself a fan but I’ve seen the original movies.” 

“Uh oh, you’re not one of those prequel snobs, are you?” He teased.

“No? I just saw the trailer and I wasn’t interested.”

“Well, a buddy of mine and I went to see it when it came out. The theater was packed. I’m talking bursting at the seams.” A small smile started to creep onto your face at his energy. “And when the lights went down and the opening credits started rolling and the music started up, everyone was cheering and clapping. It was pretty awesome. My buddy ended up loving it. He’s the biggest Star Wars fan you’ve ever met.” A moment later he asked, “So besides anything in a galaxy, far far away, have you seen any other movies that came out?”

“I went to see The Green Mile. My, uh, my dad is a big Tom Hanks fan and a Stephen King fan so he really wanted to go.”

“And you?”

“I liked it. Though it was sad.” 

“I didn’t see it yet but I got the feeling that it was going to be a bit of a heavy one.”

“It was, but it was worth it.” You noticed then that you were talking to him normally, you were breathing normally, your chest was still a little tight but that was to be expected, and you were sitting up with your back to the wall. You had gotten through your latest episode and this CJ had helped. Perhaps there was something to this helpline thing after all.

“I’m definitely going to check it out then. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he then said, “You sound a lot better than earlier. Hopefully, you’re feeling better, too?”

“Um, yeah.” You anxiously tucked your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. You know, being patient…”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Right.”

“So, you feel up to telling me what’s going on and why you called tonight or did you want to talk about something else?”

You bit at your thumbnail, unsure. “I feel bad. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.” You glanced at the clock and saw that you had been on the phone with him now for almost half an hour. 

“Don’t worry about the time and I don’t want you feeling badly.” He sounded completely genuine when he said it and it made you feel a little bit better about monopolizing his time like this. “This is why I’m here. So, if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

You still weren’t certain you should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure? What if there’s someone else who needs to call in who is having an actual crisis and you’re stuck on the phone with me? I would feel bad if they didn’t get to talk to you when they needed to because of me.”

“I’m not the only one here so if someone else does call in, they’ll speak to one of the other counselors who can help them. While we’re on the subject, what you’re experiencing is just as valid as what anyone else might be experiencing. I’m not stuck on the phone with you, I want to be talking with you and try to help you in any way I can. And yes, I’m sure.”

You contemplated it, turning it over and over in your brain. This was why you called. This was why you decided to give the helpline a try, to speak to a stranger who would listen and possibly be able to help you and if not, at least maybe understand where you were coming from. If he was willing (and he had been helpful so far), then why not?

“Would it help if I promise not to make any more Star Wars references?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Tremendously.” 

“Deal,” he laughed. You liked the sound of his laugh; it was warm, inviting, and put you instantly at ease. This CJ seemed to know what he was doing and you could now see why people called in to speak to him and other counselors like him. 

You nervously licked your lips and decided to take the plunge. You told him everything. You told him about how it started when you began college, how the classes and workload immediately overwhelmed you. How you struggled to keep from drowning in assignments and tests and projects and papers. How you started to develop these episodes and how badly you felt during them. How you had tried to talk to your parents but they just didn’t seem to hear you, dismissing it as an issue that would be resolved by you being more outgoing and feeling more grateful that you had such an educational opportunity when many didn’t. How you could be in a room full of a hundred people and still feel completely alone, especially when an episode kicked in. You’d even told him about your failed attempt at attending the frat party. He had rarely talked, giving you the floor, but he had interjected a couple of times to either support you or make some helpful suggestions. Other than that, he just listened. By the time you finished, you felt like you had told him your whole life story, but you had to admit that you felt a lot better once you got it all off your chest, which incidentally, was feeling lighter. And this time, someone listened and actually heard you. That made all the difference.

You glanced at the clock for the first time in a long time and noted it was 10:16. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your cheeks immediately heating up. Had you really been talking nonstop for over three hours? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should let you go so you can speak to other callers.”

“My shift ended fifteen minutes ago actually.”

Your heart stopped and however much better you’d been feeling, felt like it went right down the drain. How could you have been so self-absorbed and only concerned with your problems that you’d talked his ear off and used up his whole shift? Not one other person got to talk to him tonight and you didn’t even go to that school. Seriously, how selfish were you? “I-I’m so, so sorry. You should have stopped me or told me there was a time limit per call.” You were full on babbling now. “I didn’t mean to— I am so beyond sorry. I’m going to let you go. Thank you so much for your help and I hope you have a good rest of your night. Don’t worry. I promise I won’t call again. Good night.”

You went to hang up the phone when you heard loudly, “Please don’t hang up.”

You put it back to your ear, your brows drawing together in confusion. “But you said your shift was over.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “But that’s okay. If I wanted you to stop talking, I would have said something. And did I ask you to stop?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then I didn’t want you to stop talking. It seems like there’s a lot on your plate at the moment or else you wouldn’t have called, right?”

“Okay, yeah. But—”

“So it’s good that you called and I’m glad I was able to help. And for the record, there’s no time limit on a call.” Someone said something to him in the background and he quietly responded though you couldn’t hear what he said. “I’m actually gonna get going because my replacement is here and they don’t have another place to sit.” 

“Right. Of course. Again, sorry.”

“But,” he continued. “I’m going to be here Monday afternoon around 2 so if you want to call back then we can talk again.”

“I have class then.” You truly did but even if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be calling him back. You had taken up enough of his time.

“I’m here until 6:00 that day.”

“I have a study session after that class.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. “But I appreciate the offer. Thank you and have a good—”

“I’m back on again next Friday. Same time. Why don’t you call me then if you’re free?”

“I appreciate it, CJ, but don’t worry. If I need the helpline again, I’ll call, but you helped me a lot tonight and I feel better so…I won’t need to call. Again, I’m sorry I monopolized your shift.”

“Do me a favor and call me again anyway, even if you are feeling better. I’d like to check in with you and the only way I can do that is if you call me back.”

“Right. Being anonymous and all,” you mumbled. Thank God for that. You didn’t think your embarrassment at talking his head off for over three hours while you complained about your life would ever go away.

“Yeah. So, please, if you can call me next week, same time, even if you just tell me you’re feeling better and hang up. That’s all I ask.”

You supposed you could do that, after he’d generously taken the time to hear you out, after he’d helped you through your episode. “Okay.”

“Friday, 7:00. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

And so had begun the tradition of you calling him every Friday night at 7:00. You hadn’t intended for that to happen, honestly. But each time you would talk to him, ranging in times from twenty minutes to an hour and a half (you refused to ever get near that three hour mark again, no matter what he said), he would always ask you to call him back the following week, making you promise that you would. Over time, you noticed that your overwhelmed feeling had lessened considerably (though not completely gone) and instead of having an episode (or panic attack as CJ called them) twice weekly, they had now diminished to one every couple of weeks. And even then they weren’t as bad as they had been, thanks to the techniques CJ suggested you try using. Things had gotten better for you and you had to admit, the helpline definitely was a useful service for students, though for your own personal experience, you attributed a lot of that to CJ.

Speaking of which, that was how you two began to get to know one another, moving from strictly counselor and caller into a tentative friendship. When initially speaking to him, he began to feel like a friend you were just catching up with on how your past week had been, and then it actually sort of became that. He started to tell you more details about himself and now you knew what type of music he liked, what he was majoring in, where he had grown up, and why he had joined The Stand. He had even shared his backstory with you and why he didn’t drink when you told him how uncomfortable college parties made you in general. The conversation was no longer one-sided and you’d come to like it that way.

Until the day came when he asked your name. 

“My name?”

“Well, yeah, so I know what to call you. It feels weird calling you “you” all the time,” he laughed.

“Um…” You were practically crapping bricks. You didn’t expect this.

“Just your first name. You’ll still be anonymous,” he reassured. “It could be a nickname if you want. Or your middle name. Just something.”

You ran over it in your mind. What if he still somehow managed to find out who you were if you gave him only your first name? Sure, you weren’t going to the same schools, but what if somehow someway…? Plus, your friends weren’t exactly fans of CJ right now. Apparently, Jen had a major crush on him but her hopes were dashed when he told her he didn’t date (something he had told you long before you heard it via your friends) and then hooked up with Audrey the same night. You hadn’t been there that night, opting to stay in and study for a huge test you had coming up in your Lit class, and after hearing that not only had CJ been present but also what happened, you were glad you had made that decision. Audrey and Joey were on the outs thanks to the events of that night and now so were Jen and Audrey once it was revealed that CJ and Audrey had slept together, right before Pacey punched his face in. 

When that Friday rolled around, you almost didn’t call him. You were angry and hurt yourself. Angry because his careless actions had hurt more than one of your friends, and hurt because truth be told, you had started to crush on him yourself from afar. You trusted him with the details of your life, very personal details (without giving specifics obviously), and he’d helped you. How could he be this helpful, compassionate guy working at a helpline but turn out to be this scummy, advantage-taking, selfish player? You couldn’t reconcile in your head the CJ you were getting to know with the CJ your friends saw.

“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” Jen told you when you wondered aloud how a helpline counselor could do something like he had with your friends. “Most people who go into those positions to help other people are usually a thousand times more screwed up than the people they’re helping. Audrey’s been hurting, as you know, and she’s been acting out and he saw an opportunity. Case closed.” But it wasn’t case closed for you. Not by a mile. You wanted answers, but how could you get them while remaining anonymous?

So that following Friday at 7:00, as you angrily punched in the helpline number, you had no idea how you would do it but you were determined to get them. And if you didn’t like what you heard, then this would be your last call and you would close the book on CJ and your budding friendship for good.

It caught you off guard, though, when you heard a different voice this time.

“Hello, Helpline. This is David.”

You nearly hung up. You knew David; he was starting to hang out with your group more and more, especially Jack. What if he recognized your voice?

“Hello?”

You forced yourself to ask the burning question on the tip of your tongue, albeit with a slightly higher pitch of voice. “Hi, is CJ there?”

“No, I’m sorry.” You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and let out a sigh of relief. Whether it was because David didn’t recognize you or you didn’t have to confront CJ right this second, you couldn’t be sure. Probably a bit of both. “He called out sick and asked me to fill in for him. He should be back next week, though.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call then. Thank you.” You quickly hung up before he could ask you anything else.

The next Friday you called, you got CJ.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding relieved when he heard your voice. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” You were standing in your dorm room, staring out the window and watching the rain, your arms crossed. You weren’t as angry as last week, the extra time allowing you to let a cooler head prevail, but you still wanted answers. “How are you?”

“Honestly? I’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were sick last week. Has it not gotten any better?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was feeling lousy and just needed to take a day, you know?” And he didn’t need to be parading around a still-healing black eye that might prompt questions, you bet. 

“I get that.”

“God, I wish I had your number outside of this so I could call you.” Your jaw tightened. Perhaps your friends were right; there was a whole other side to him. A side you didn’t really want to get to know. “I really could’ve used a friend to talk to.”

You unclenched your jaw when you realized he wasn’t hitting on you and when you thought about it, he sounded genuinely miserable and he never had in any of your previous conversations, even when your friendship formed. It was unlike him, or at least the CJ you had gotten to know. Just like this behavior your friends had told you about sounded unlike him. “Well, I’m here now, if you want to talk.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make this about me. You called in to talk, not to hear about my problems,” he laughed, sounding nervous. That was a first.

“I’m sure. What are friends for?”

He told you everything while not naming anyone. He didn’t hold back anything and you realized that while he didn’t know who you were, he was giving you the side that had been missing from the story your friends told you: his side. Every side has a story after all. He admitted he had messed up big time. He had hurt Jen (or Blondie as he called her), he had been an ass to Pacey (or The Guy Who Punched My Face) when he had no right to be, and he should have never hooked up with Audrey (or The Girl That Came Out of Nowhere). Apparently, Jen had said to him the same thing she said to you and it got him thinking, along with some things Audrey had said. He felt like a huge jerk and all he wanted to do was keep his head down and move forward, get back on the right track that his life had been headed in. You stayed silent as he talked and before you knew it, the clock read 9:47. 

“Your shift is over soon,” you whispered once he was done.

“Yeah, but I still have a few minutes. So what do you think? Am I a complete jackass or what?” He let out another nervous chuckle.

You briefly pressed your lips together as you thought of how best to answer that. In the end, you were as honest as you could be without giving yourself away. “I think we all make mistakes sometimes. But as long as we recognize them, apologize to those we’ve hurt, and try to do better, then that’s all that matters. So no, not a complete jackass.” 

This time when he laughed, it sounded relieved. “Thanks.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for,” you repeated his words back to him, teasing him slightly.

A moment of silence passed between you before he asked, “Will you call again next week?”

That made you do a double take. He never asked you to call the following week like that. Usually he asked in the form of making you promise you would call or he’d tell you he’d talk to you the following week. But when he asked like this, he sounded uncertain, vulnerable. You knew then that more than just his face and ego had been hurt by recent events. Perhaps you were a fool but you believed his remorse to be genuine. 

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’ll call next week.”

And when you did, he immediately hit you with the name question. 

“Earth to you…” He called, snapping you out of it and reclaiming your attention. “See? It doesn’t really work,” he laughed.

You had to be careful here. Not only because you didn’t want him to find out who you were but also because if your friends ever found out, especially Audrey…you were toast. 

You opened your mouth to give him the name of a classmate that couldn’t be traced back to you but “Jo” came tumbling out instead.

“Jo?”

Oh crap. You had Audrey and then Joey on your mind and it just slipped out. Crap, crap, crap. “Yeah,” you lied. “Jo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jo.” You could practically hear him smiling, happy to have gotten a name out of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, angry with yourself. “Nice to meet you, too,” you mumbled before you dropped your head into your hands.  

So now here you were, him thinking you were Jo from the college he was attending, and you were calling him every single week at the same time like clock work. You had long ago stopped questioning the morality of what you were doing and it seemed that he didn’t appear to question it at all. He was always happy to hear from you and your conversations were more personal now. You couldn’t deny the way your heart rate spiked every time you heard his voice when he picked up the call or how whenever his name was mentioned in passing by David or Jen (though rare these days), you would specifically tune in, listening for anything that had to do with him. You had it bad and you knew it, but it was also a safe crush from a distance and would be staying that way.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your reverie and remembered CJ has asked you a question. “I’m good. Really good. How about you?”

“Really good, huh? I’m happy to hear it and happy to be hearing from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I got that paper back and you were so right, The Writing Center really helped. I can’t believe I never thought to try it before. Thank you so much for that idea.”

“I’m happy to be of service,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it helped. And the club thing? Did you give that a try as well?”

Your smile dropped. He had been trying to urge you to join a club or a group where you had shared interests with other students. His theory was that if you gave a small group of people a shot doing a social activity you might enjoy, that it might help decrease your nervousness in other social settings. Even though you told him you had a group of friends you regularly met up with, he didn’t think expanding your social circles would be a bad thing to consider. “No? I told you, CJ, that’s not really my thing.”

“I get that, I do. How about this? If you want, I could meet you at Student Activities and we could take a look around together, get some info. No pressure, of course, but you wouldn’t have to walk in there alone. I know it can be a bit much sometimes. I remember my first semester here and I didn’t know where to stick my head.”

You froze. That was the first time he’d ever mentioned the possibility of you meeting in person. Perhaps if you were really Jo from Boston Bay College, you could take him up on it or give him your number like he’d asked you for or call his room number like he’d offered up a few times now so you could talk outside of the helpline. But you weren’t and so you had to decline. “I appreciate the offer but it’s not my thing so I’m going to have to pass. Sorry, but thank you, though.” 

“If you’re sure.” He sounded slightly disappointed but maybe that was just you imagining it. 

“Yep, I’m sure. Uh, so listen, I can’t stay on long. My roommate and her boyfriend will be here in less than ten so I’m gonna go so I can get out of here before I get hit by the clothes hurricane that’s most likely to happen.” It was a complete lie. Your roommate, Stacey, had actually gone to visit her boyfriend for the weekend. You would have peace and quiet and the dorm to yourself for two whole days. 

He chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t blame you. If you get bored later, I’m here at The Stand until 10:00, like you already know, and then I’ll be back in my room. You can call me then if you want to talk. I”ll be up for a while so don’t worry about calling too late.”

“Oh. Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that.” You weren’t going to and he knew you weren’t going to. You hadn’t the last two times he’d made the same offer and the last two times you’d given him the same response.

“Jo?”

“Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you… Call next week, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling, like always. You said your quick goodbyes and you hung up, letting out a heavy breath. While he had been urging you to contact him personally, he had never mentioned meeting him before. That was different. And it worried you at the same time. Why the offer now? Granted, he was just trying to be helpful to you, given the context, but what if he began to find other ways to work it in like he already had about your phone numbers? What if he continued to push to meet Jo? 

You shook your head, telling yourself that you were doing it again, worrying over things that might not happen. You would cross that bridge when you came to it, something CJ had once said to you that you kept for yourself as your own personal mantra. You would wait to see how next week would go.

But unfortunately, the call never happened.

You had been out with Jack and David on Thursday night at Hell’s Kitchen, when Jen waltzed in, smiling and taking a seat. Joey and Emma were working and Pacey was supposed to join you later.

“You worked late today,” Jack commented. 

“Training took a little bit longer than expected. We were supposed to be done at 6:00 but then our relief called and said they were going to be late. Of course, since CJ was going to stay, I wasn’t going to just leave him there.” Your ears perked up at the mention of CJ. You knew Jen was training as a counselor and he was the one training her. Jen had begrudgingly forgiven CJ but it was also obvious to you all that she still had a crush on him. While you couldn’t blame her, you also felt for her. CJ told you that he had to make it clear once more to Blondie that he wasn’t looking to date though he was happy she had finally started training at the helpline. He really believed she would make a great counselor once she settled into it. 

Talk about complicated. Jen was your friend and you didn’t want to see her get hurt, but you could also understand if CJ didn’t see her that way, he just didn’t. They were both your friends now and you just wanted them both to be happy, whatever that looked like.

“But then, listen to this,” she continued. “Our relief, this guy named Seth, sees me there with CJ and starts teasing him about how he’s racking up all of these beautiful girls through the helpline, not leaving any for him.”

“Jen,” Jack warned. 

“No, listen. This is good. You’re going to like this.” 

Jack sighed but let her finish.

“CJ laughs it off but then Seth mentions how he has this girl calling him every Friday night, around the same time, and she talks his ear off for hours.”

You were about to take a bite of your french fry when you froze. Your heart dropped down to your feet. 

“And so I ask if this is true and CJ says that we’re there to help everybody, time limits aren’t a thing, and it doesn’t matter how many times a caller calls back or they speak to the same counselor. As long as they get the help they need.”

“He’s right,” David chimed in.

“But then Seth starts teasing him again and asks if CJ can give him tips on how to get dates using the helpline. CJ laughs and says sure. I mention how he said he wasn’t looking to date and Seth says he tells every girl that so he doesn’t have to commit but can still get what he wants.” You dropped your fry back into your basket, trying to ignore the rolling nausea in your stomach. 

“I don’t know about that,” David chuckled nervously.

“He didn’t deny it, David. He just laughed and walked away. Can you believe it? He’s using the helpline to get girls. Talk about abusing the system, not to mention the absolute lack of morality.” You definitely felt like you were going to be sick. “I quit. If that’s what guys like him and Seth are using that helpline for then I don’t want any part of it. And CJ? Audrey was right. He’s a skeevy player. I can’t believe I didn’t see it this whole time.” Jen shook her head. You were getting that all-too familiar falling feeling again. 

“Wait, seriously? Guys are using the helpline to pick up girls?” Jack turned to David.

“No. Jen, I’m sure Seth was just kidding and CJ was just playing along. Nobody is using the helpline to pick anyone up. Everyone that works there knows the rules and they’re there to help callers. How could they pick anyone up, anyway? It’s all anonymous.”

“Yeah, but if they pushed for a date or something… It could happen.” You immediately felt your stomach jolt and like someone had punched you in the gut at the same time.

“It could,” David agreed. “But I doubt it does.”

“He has the same girl calling him every single week at the same time. What would keep her calling like that?” Jen interjected. You glanced away from the table for a moment, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer David would give.

“Is that true? Every week?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“It’s true,” David confirmed. “I actually got her once when CJ was out sick. She sounded nice.” If you could have, you would have given him a smile, thankful for David’s attempt to defend CJ and the helpline and unknowingly you. But right then, you were trying not to hyperventilate. “And CJ appears to be helping her. He said she’s made a lot of progress since they started talking.”

“He talked to you about her?” Jen looked shocked. Oh God. Your chest started to feel tight.

“Only because he was going to be out sick that one day and in case she called and then decided to talk to me, he wanted me to be up to speed in case she needed something. That’s all.”

“I feel badly for this girl. She probably thinks CJ is some great guy and she can trust him but based on what Seth said, he’s simply playing the long game with her. A girl whose trust he’s taking advantage of. I’m telling you, Audrey was right about him and I should’ve seen it.” Jen rubbed at her forehead. It was beyond hot in here and even though it wasn’t crowded, the room started to feel smaller.

“I don’t think that’s true, Jen,” David defended. “I don’t think he’s looking to take advantage of this girl at all. I think he truly wants to help her.”

“Yeah, that’s how it started with Audrey and look at how that turned out.” David dropped his gaze to his food, continuing to poke at it with his fork. There wasn’t much he could say to that though he wished he still would. “And if that’s true, he only wants to help her, then why was he laughing along when Seth talked about her and how she keeps him on the phone for hours? How is that helping her?”

You felt like your feet were locked in cement but your legs were wobbling to and fro. And yet you also felt like a large boulder was now sitting on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. How could any of this conversation be happening right now?

Jack glanced from David to Jen. “Perhaps David’s right, Jen. Maybe he was just playing along. That’s what guys do sometimes. You know that.”

“I don’t think that’s what that was. Either way, I quit.”

Jack and David started to urge her not to quit, but at that point you’d had enough. Your hands were clammy and you felt that feeling on your forehead, too. You needed cold, and air. “Excuse me,” you nearly rasped out and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. You could feel your dinner coming back up. Joey stopped you in your trek.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head and dodged past her, hurrying to the bathroom. Once you reached it, you locked the door and pushed into a stall just in time. You emptied the contents of your stomach and once you were finished, you made your way towards the sink, splashing cold water on your face. You could feel the panic attack you were having and you tried your best to ward it off but to no avail.

You slid down the wall and struggled to breathe, trying the techniques CJ had taught you. You didn’t want to think about him right now but you also didn’t want to be having this happen while your friends sat right outside. Not to mention, you knew Joey was going to come check on you. You gasped for air and rubbed at your chest. Once it passed, you unlocked the door, made excuses to Joey and your friends, went home, showered, and cried yourself to sleep. For the first time in a while, you’d had a particularly bad episode and ended the night in tears: two things you hadn’t done since you’d started talking to CJ regularly. You felt as if all the progress you’d made was like a house of cards that fell to the ground after one card was pulled out from under you. And all because you’d trusted the wrong person. 

So you stopped calling and instead, spent your Friday nights at the library, studying, so you wouldn’t be tempted to pick up the phone and call to confront the guy who’d betrayed your trust.

A few weeks later, you were sitting on Joey’s bed, watching Audrey unload her closet onto her mattress. Apparently, she was going to rehab, for real this time. She was ready to confront the fact that her drinking was out of control. Joey was helping her sort through everything and handed you things to fold and place in her suitcase. Eddie had already taken one heavy suitcase down to the car, along with a very high Bob. 

You all looked up when there was a polite knock on their dorm room door. Joey got up to answer it, most likely thinking it was Eddie, but when she opened the door, it revealed another guy altogether.

There stood CJ, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a jacket covering his tall frame. Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your stomach but then leaping back into place and pounding faster than before for a whole other reason. You immediately grabbed a magazine from the nightstand and began sifting through it, your jaw clenched and you refusing to look in his direction.

Before anyone could say a word, Audrey groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw CJ hold up a placating hand in her direction. “I’m not here for you, okay? I’m actually looking for someone.”

You froze.

“I bet you are,” Audrey grumbled.

Joey crossed her arms. “Who?”

“A girl by the name of Jo who lives in this building.”

You mentally cursed yourself. You knew you had let the name of your dorm building slip once by accident but he hadn’t appeared to have heard you so you thought you were in the clear; apparently, he had heard you. Crap.

Joey tensed. Uh oh. You had a feeling this was going to come back to haunt you at some point. Here it was. “Why are you looking for me?”

CJ’s brow drew together. “You’re Jo?”

Audrey was suddenly at Joey’s side. “Yeah, why are you looking for her?”

“Jo is a girl who called the helpline. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I just wanted to check on her.”

Her distaste for CJ forgotten, Audrey turned in shock to her roommate. “Joey Potter, you called the helpline?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous, Audrey.” Joey then looked at CJ. “I don’t know who this girl is but it’s not me. Good luck in your search.” She went to close the door but CJ stopped her.

“Wait, so you’ve never heard of a girl named Jo who lives in this building?”

“No,” Audrey snapped. “Now, go away.”

“Hold on a second. Because Joanna Martin who lives on the 2nd floor isn’t her and has never heard of her. Now you’re saying you’re not her and you’ve never heard of her either?”

Audrey gave him a nasty smirk. “Imagine that. A girl using a fake name calling an anonymous helpline. She probably knows what a sleazeball you are and didn’t want you stalking her. If she was calling the helpline, she’s probably got enough on her plate. Best of luck, Stalker Boy.”

Audrey went to shut the door in his face but again, he stopped it.

“I don’t really care what you think of me. You want to think I’m the bad guy in everything that happened with us? That’s fine. But I’m actually trying to find this girl to help her.”

“Help her into your bed, you mean.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, I bet it is but whatever.” Audrey rolled her eyes and turned back to you. “Y/N, have you ever heard of this girl he’s looking for?”

Your eyes snapped up to them and all three of them were now staring at you, waiting for your answer. Crap. CJ was looking right at you. Double crap. You shook your head and went back to your magazine. 

“There you go. No one here has heard of her. Buh-bye now.” 

Audrey was closing the door when Joey’s phone started to ring. Joey, who had gone back into the whirlwind of clothes, looked over at you. “Hey, can you get that? Eddie might be calling from his cell phone.”

You nodded and picked up the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Can I talk to Joey? Audrey’s friend, Bob, is getting a little impatient down here.”

“Sure. One sec.” You handed the phone to Joey. “It’s Eddie.” She took it and began rolling her eyes when Eddie was most likely telling her the same thing he had just told you. She came over, zipped up the suitcase you had been working on after dumping more things into it. “Do you mind taking this to Eddie downstairs? He’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Sure thing.” You tossed the magazine back onto the night stand and grabbed the suitcase handle, picking it up and placing it on its wheels. You slipped your worn paperback copy of your book into the back pocket of your jeans, intent on returning it to your room when you came back up. Now that you knew CJ was trying to track you down and he was in the building, you didn’t feel comfortable having any clues pointing to your identity out in the open like that. 

You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and began to pull it along. “Oh my God, Aud. Do you really need this many outfits?” 

She looked up from her cell phone and gave you a smile. “Of course. Rehab is bound to be drab so I’m going to make it fab.” She shot you a wink and opened the door for you. 

You laughed and shook your head, crossing over the threshold. You made your way to the elevator and pushed the button. While you were waiting, you heard behind you, “Need some help with that?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. CJ was right there, behind you, talking directly to you. While a part of you wanted to tell him to take a hike, your desire for anonymity was greater. You turned and gave him a wan smile, shaking your head. His green eyes were intent on you and you didn’t care for that one bit. It was like he knew who you were without you even having to say it. Luckily, at that moment, the elevator dinged and the door opened. You went to roll the suitcase onto it when a hand picked it up out of nowhere.

“Let me give you a hand,” CJ offered, not waiting for you to reply and stepping into the elevator. You paused for a moment, considering not getting onto it with him but Eddie was expecting you and Joey and Audrey were waiting for you to come back. You let out a quiet sigh and stepped inside, hitting the button for the Lobby and waiting for the doors to close.

Once they did and you started descending, CJ glanced over at you. “So, Jo, were you planning on ever calling me again?”

Your heart started to pound but you forced yourself to remain cool as a cucumber, hoping he wouldn’t recognize your voice. You arched a questioning brow up at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but my name’s Y/N. Sorry to disappoint.” You turned back to the door.

“The Green Mile book in your back pocket says otherwise.”

Crap. You tried to think quickly. “That’s just a book I’m reading for class.” You decided to channel Audrey, the queen of mean when she wanted to be; perhaps that would get him to leave you alone. The doors were opening and you turned to give him a smirk. “NIce try, though, Sherlock. Better get back to Watson before he misses you.” You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and nearly stormed out of the elevator. 

CJ was suddenly at your side. “I know it’s you. Why are you trying so hard to act like it’s not?”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore him. Thankfully, Eddie came into sight, rushing to get the suitcase. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He picked it up and gave you a look. “About how many more of these are coming down, do you think?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. She has a lot of outfits. Joey’s got her work cut out for her.”

Eddie groaned and then noticed CJ standing next to you. “Good to see you again, man.”

“Likewise.”

Eddie glanced between you and CJ before walking away. Great. He was bound to mention that to Joey who would most likely question you about it later thanks to CJ’s impromptu appearance earlier. You spun on your heel and headed back to the elevator, punching the button.  

CJ was suddenly next to you. “What happened? Why did you stop calling?” He quietly asked you. 

You didn’t answer him, just kept staring straight ahead, your jaw clenched.

He leaned in slightly, his voice even quieter. “Did I make you nervous by offering to meet you? I was only trying to help. Nothing funny, I promise.”

When the doors opened, you stepped inside and of course, he followed you. The doors closed and your ride up began. 

“Are you going to talk to me or just keep ignoring me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know your voice. It’s you.” After another quiet moment, he begged, “Would you please just talk to me? What happened?”

You shook your head.

“Something obviously happened to make you stop calling. So, talk to me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You glared over at him. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please stop bothering me.” CJ looked as if you’d slapped him for a moment and you felt guilty but then you immediately remembered what Jen had said that night at the bar. 

He gave you a curt nod and turned to face the door. Once it opened, you went to step out when he lifted the book out of your back pocket. 

“Hey! Give that back!” He held it out of your reach, opening it to find the note from your dad on the inside page that he’d written after he bought it for you. Why did you have to mention that in your phone conversations? That was a dead giveaway that yes, Jo was indeed you. How could you have been so stupid?

CJ gestured to the note. “Tell me again how it’s not you.”

You snatched the book out of his hands and hurried down the hall to your room. You would’ve gone back to Audrey’s and Joey’s room, but you were afraid he’d out you to them. Even if they didn’t believe him, you still remembered Audrey’s reaction when she thought it might be Joey for a moment and the latter’s response. 

“Y/N, wait,” CJ begged behind you. “Please, can we just talk for a minute?” You were unlocking your door when he was right next to you. “Just one minute. Please. That’s all I’m asking. Then, if you want, you’ll never see or hear from me again.”

You mulled it over for a moment. You could do one minute, you supposed, and get this over with. You glanced up at him and nodded, pretending not to see the relief that filled his expression. You opened the door and then held it open wider for him to follow.

You saw your roommate sitting on her bed, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. “Stace,” you interrupted. “Can you give us a minute?”

She frowned. “I’m kind of in the middle of—”

“I need the room.” Your tone brooked no argument. You surprised her; usually, you kept to yourself and never really stood up to her if she got mean or demanding. But you were not in the mood for any of her crap right then. You were at your limit.

Stacey scoffed but got to her feet. “One second, babe.” She glared at you, which you were more than happy to return, and then turned it onto CJ as well. “Boys aren’t allowed to stay up here so make it quick. You know the rules.”

You huffed out a snort. “The rule you break almost every other night? Got it, Stace, thanks for looking out.” You practically shut the door in her scowling face. You turned to find CJ’s eyes trained on you.

“So that’s the roommate, huh?” You shrugged. “Exactly how I pictured her, scowl and everything.”

You didn’t laugh at his joke and instead, crossed your arms. “You wanted to talk?”

He pressed his lips together and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Why did you stop calling?”

You wanted to tell him the truth but it also seemed best to just get him out of there as soon as possible. He knew who you really were now and that was a problem. Especially if your friends found out you were the girl that had been calling him every week. Because sooner or later, they would want to know why and you weren’t ready to talk about that or have them look at you funny. You knew they’d be supportive, especially Joey and Audrey, but you also knew things would change. And you weren’t quite ready for that to happen. 

“I’ve been doing better so there was no need. You should know, you made me your pet project after all.” You didn’t mean to be harsh but you were still angry. 

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“You know. I’m the girl who calls you every week to talk your ear off and keeps you on the phone for hours. The girl you’ve supposedly been trying to pick up through the helpline, though apparently I’m not the only one.”

His eyes widened. “Y/N, that’s not true at all. I don’t use the helpline to pick up girls or try to get dates. I don’t date, you know I don’t. I don’t know who told you that but it’s not true.”

“But the other part is?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Because that’s how your buddy Seth put it, the way Jen tells it.”

CJ huffed out a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his forehead and giving a nod. “Jen. That’s who you heard this from.”

“Don’t even,” you snapped. “David also mentioned how you told him all about me and my issues.” You used quotation marks on the last word.

His hand dropped. “Okay, first off, you don’t have issues, no more than anybody else around here, myself included. Second, I only told David because I was going to be out that one night. I wanted to make sure if you called in that you were taken care of. That’s it. David is one of our better counselors, he’s a friend, and I trust him completely.”

Your jaw tightened. “That still doesn’t explain why Seth would even say anything like that. And you laughed! You stood there and laughed as this guy, who I don’t know by the way, is turning me calling you for help into a joke! Is that what I am? The joke at the office? Does everyone there know how I’ve been calling you every week and boring you to death with my problems?”

“What? No! You’re not a joke. And you’re not—”

“Really? Because it sure sounded like it to me based on what Jen said.”

“Okay, let’s get something straight. You’re not boring me to death when you call, you’re not talking my ear off, or keeping me stuck on the phone with you, or anything else that someone else might have said. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to be there for you and try to help. Then when we started talking about more than that, I wanted to talk to you even more. If I didn’t want to talk to you at all, if you were such a nuisance, then why would I ask you to call back every week or give you my phone number even?”

“But you weren’t trying to pick me up.”

“No, I wasn’t. I wanted to be available to you if you needed to talk to me outside of the hours I had at The Stand.”

“Yeah, because I was your pet project.”

“No, you weren’t and why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.” 

“Isn’t that what you do, though? Isn’t that why you tracked me down? Isn’t that why you kept trying to get my number and even suggested we meet though the helpline’s supposed to be anonymous? You look for girls who are messed up and try to be their white knight. It gives you some sort of satisfaction, some twisted sense of purpose… That’s what happened with Audrey, right?” Again, he looked like you slapped him but this time, you didn’t feel guilty. You were only speaking the truth. He had told you how much he wanted to help Audrey and how somehow they ended up in bed together and before he knew it, he really liked her and wanted to see more of her. In the end, he’d admitted to you that it might have been him confusing his desire to help her with his interest in her. That maybe Audrey had been right in what she’d said.

You watched as his shoulders deflated slightly and he let out a heavy breath, hanging his head. You bit your lip and glanced away from him, not wanting to see him look so defeated. You had to be strong, you had to stand up for yourself and not let him or anyone else take advantage of you. That was the silent vow you’d made to yourself after you’d cried yourself to sleep that night you found out how you were being used and made a mockery of.

“I tracked you down because I was worried,” he spoke softly. You turned back to find him staring at you, remorse radiating from him. You felt slightly bad for hurting him but you had said nothing but the truth, from his own lips. “It wasn’t like you not to call so I thought maybe something happened or maybe I made you nervous with that last call. Like I said, I gave you my number because I wanted to be there for you anytime you needed me, even if I wasn’t working. So this way you always had a way to get a hold of me if you needed to. I only asked for yours because I did like talking to you and I thought we were becoming friends. I know that’s not the norm for the helpline and it’s never happened before, to me or to anyone else that I know of, but like I said, I enjoyed talking to you. I only offered to meet you at Student Activities that day because you seemed nervous to try it alone and I didn’t want you to feel like that. I would’ve made that offer to anyone that needed it.” He nervously licked his lips. “I do like you but it has nothing to do with my wanting to help you or make sure you’re okay. I made a mistake with Audrey but I learned from it. I told you that.” He sighed before continuing. “I like you, Y/N, because you’re funny and smart and kind. Even if we didn’t meet through the helpline, I still would have liked you once I got to talk to you, once I got to know you better. That’s the truth.”

He turned to leave when he stopped suddenly. “By the way, Seth is the guy who usually relieves me on Friday nights. That’s how he knew about you calling every week. He always liked to razz me about being on the phone with you since I made him fifteen minutes late for his shift that one time. I only laughed because it was obvious he was showing off for Jen, that he likes her, and I was trying not to embarrass him in front of her. I did end up talking to him later about it, though, and asked him not to mention it again in front of her or anyone else. He agreed; he’s not a bad guy.” He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened. If you call the helpline again and want to talk to someone else, I understand. If you don’t want to call at all, I understand that, too. Just…take care of yourself, alright?”

You averted your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears building in them, and you gave him a curt nod. You only looked up again when the door snicked closed. You pretended a tear didn’t suddenly roll down your cheek and you told yourself that you had done the right thing. Though it certainly didn’t feel like it in the moment, deep within your chest. 

You stared at your phone, pacing back and forth as you chewed on your thumbnail. It had been almost a month since CJ walked out of your dorm room, leaving you more conflicted than you felt prior to his arrival. You had turned his explanation over and over in your mind so much that you had begun to dream about him every night. You had more panic attacks during that time, to the point where you’d finally taken the plunge and made an appointment to see a therapist. You’d told your parents everything you’d been experiencing, making sure they heard you this time, and told them you needed help. Your mother was still annoyed with you but your father was supportive, especially when you told him that you had a group of friends you met up with pretty regularly. He agreed to help with payments for your therapy. 

You were doing better, just like you had been while talking to CJ, and the therapist had even more techniques in her toolbox that she taught you how to use. You’d even opened up to her about CJ and everything that happened with him. She was the initial reason why you were considering making a call that you hadn’t made in quite a while. 

When you saw the clock hit 7:21, you made your decision. You huffed out a breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the all-too familiar number.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You resumed your pacing, nervous, unsure of how to say what you wanted to.

“Hello?”

You’ve got this.

“Hello?”

Just do it already. Talk to him.

“Listen, if you’re—”

“What are your plans for tomorrow afternoon?” You rushed out before you lost your nerve.

 “Jo?” You appreciated him using your fake name. “Is that you?”

“Well?” You asked.

“Uh, tomorrow? I’m free...”

“Would you…want to get some coffee? Maybe?”

“Coffee, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Jo, you’re not calling the helpline to ask me out on a coffee date, are you? Because that would be a serious misuse of this valuable resource the college provides,” he teased.       

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll just wait until Seth is on shift then and call him up to ask him instead. Thanks, though. Bye.”

“Don’t you dare,” he laughed. You lifted the phone back up to your ear. “What time and what coffee shop?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Got a pen?”

You walked into the coffee shop ten minutes early, intent on getting a table and settling in before CJ arrived. To your surprise, he was already there, waving you over. You approached, feeling your heartbeat speed up with every step. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure we got a good table.” You had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason. The worry shadowing his expression confirmed it. Did he really think you had called him up to ask him to meet you only for you not to show? Then again, you supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“Good thinking.” You gestured towards the line with your thumb. “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

He was immediately on his feet. “I’ll get it. You sit down. You still like lattes?”

You gave him a small smile and nodded; he remembered. 

He returned your smile. “Okay. Here, take a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.” You watched him walk over to the line as you did just that. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were taking your therapist’s advice. You were moving your friendship with CJ away from the helpline and out into the real world. You were giving him another chance while also allowing both of you to start over. If CJ agreed to, that is.

A few minutes later, he returned and placed your cup in front of you. You gave him a smile of thanks and waited for him to join you.

“So,” he started once he was settled. “You called in.”

“Only to ask you to meet me,” you pointed out.

The corner of his lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too.” And you meant it. You were happy he’d said yes. “I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to thank you.”

His brows drew together. “Thank me?”

You nodded and began to tell him about all of the recent developments in your life, including therapy. You also apologized for how harsh you’d been the last time you saw each other but he waved it off, saying you didn’t need to and he understood. He listened intently and his smile grew when you mentioned how the therapy was helping and your panic attacks were starting to lessen. 

“I’m really happy to hear it, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re doing better.”

You bit at your lip, feeling nervous about speaking this next part. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t helped me the way you did, especially that first night. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured.

Your heart began to pound against your rib cage but you bravely surged forward and kissed his cheek. When you sat back in your chair, his eyes were wide and you felt your face get hot. “Sorry. I just really wanted to do that for a long time. I hope that was okay.”

He grinned. “More than okay.” You felt relief sweep through you. “I was just thinking—”

“I know. You’re not dating, and we’re friends. Don’t worry, I understand.”

He studied you for a moment before speaking again. “I was going to say ‘I was just thinking what a coincidence because there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time, too.’” His hand gently covered yours and he slowly leaned in, giving you time to pull away or tell him to stop. You weren’t going to do either. 

His lips brushed gently against yours and you felt a thrill rush through you at the contact. You had imagined kissing him so many times but the fantasy did absolutely no justice to the real thing. When you broke apart but he didn’t lean back right away, he murmured, “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you whispered before pulling him back into you, both of you grinning like idiots before your lips connected again.

You stopped, seeing the front of the building you were about to go into. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You asked nervously.

CJ turned back to you and gave you a reassuring smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you. “Yes. We should.”

“But—”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “Trust me. I’m right here with you, okay?” He pecked your lips one more time, tightened his hold on your hand, and began pulling you forward. 

“Okay.” You didn’t sound so sure about this and truthfully, you weren’t.

CJ chuckled and led you inside. The Stand office was decorated with balloons and streamers and there was even confetti on the floor. One of the counselors was leaving since she was soon to graduate and a party was being thrown for her last day. You tried not to get overwhelmed at the amount of people filling the small space. It was overly warm in here and you could barely hear yourself think over the din of multiple conversations going on at once. Somewhere music was playing at a decent level. You noted a room in the back where through the window you could see two people sitting, talking on the phone, a closed door in between them and the noise. 

CJ intertwined your fingers and moved you both towards a group of a few people that he was intent on talking to, people greeting him as he passed. You remembered the techniques you had been taught and tried to put them into action while reminding yourself that you were with CJ and he wasn’t going to abandon you. 

He stopped and greeted the group before he turned to you smiling. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

One of the guys laughed. “Ah, so this is Y/N.” Your heart started hammering inside your chest. “CJ hasn’t shut up about you since you two started dating.” You nearly sighed in relief.

CJ shrugged, grinning down at you. “Seth’s not wrong.”

Your eyes widened before you turned back to the guy. “Oh, so you’re Seth.”

Seth beamed. “Aww, CJ, you told her about me? I just knew we had something special,” he joked.

You frowned. “Hey now. Go get your own CJ. This one’s mine.” You winked up at CJ who laughed. 

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him. “Definitely yours,” he whispered huskily. 

Seth pretended to gag. “Ugh. Young love. Gross. You can have him, Y/N.”

“Damn right I do,” you laughed as CJ wrapped himself around you from behind and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

From that moment on, it wasn’t so bad. CJ circulated around the room to different groups, introducing you each time. With him by your side, you began to feel more comfortable and you opened up bit by bit. At one point, CJ took your hand and led you away. “I want to show you something.”

“Again?” You teased. “Didn’t you already show me something back in my dorm earlier? Twice?”

“Ha ha. No, this is something different. Though there will definitely be a third time when I get you out of here and back to my place.”

“Ooo. You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Mr. Braxton.”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and pulled you into a kiss that left you breathless. “Just a small preview for later.”

“A small preview?” You panted. You just loved teasing him and couldn’t resist.  

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Come on.”

CJ led you over to a desk and with his free hand, he swiped confetti off of the seat. “This is it. My station,” he told you.

Your eyes roamed over the computer, the keyboard, the notepad and pens, stopping on the corded phone. So this was it. This was where CJ had sat on those Friday nights during your conversations. You smiled to yourself at the memory.

You let out a squeal when CJ quickly sat down in the chair and pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from falling, glaring at his laugh. You softened though when you looked back over the desk. “So this is where you sat on those nights we talked?”

“Uh huh. Though I much prefer you here on this end with me.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and turned you to him, kissing you sweetly. You snuck your fingers into his hair and tilted your head to deepen it, not caring right then about anyone or anything else around you. 

You and CJ had been dating for a while now and it was starting to become serious. He had met your parents when they came to visit. Your dad had liked him right away. Your mom, on the other hand, had given him a bit of a hard time but underneath the harsh exterior she was presenting, you could tell she liked him, too. He had initially planned to transfer to a school in New York, which you more than supported (though you were secretly heartbroken). You reminded him that you had done the phone thing once upon a time and you could do it again, if he wanted. After contemplating it, he decided to stay in Boston. 

“Please don’t tell me you chose to stay because of me. I’m not going anywhere. If it’s a great opportunity for you, you should go. I don’t want you to regret not going.”

He’d simply smiled. “I have a great opportunity right here and I would regret leaving.” He’d kissed your nose. “Besides, Boston’s home.”

“CJ, you should go. I’m almost done and I can come visit you. It’s only a few hours’ drive. You could show me things like the Empire State Building or take me to a museum or a play or show me Times Square.” You’d tried to make it sound enticing but inside it was killing you. Everyone knew long distance relationships had their problems and who knew? Maybe he might meet someone new in the Big Apple. But you also wanted him to do what was right for him, just like you’d spoken with your therapist about. You didn’t want him to resent you later on if he didn’t take this opportunity now and you certainly didn’t want him to have any regrets. “We could even visit Jen and Jack, see how her Grams is doing.”

Jen and Jack had transferred to New York. You had been worried to tell her that you and CJ were dating but while she was a little miffed in the beginning, she was more focused on the developing situation with her grandmother who had been diagnosed with cancer. Eventually, she forgave you before she left and gave you her blessing. You had been relieved; Jen was a good person, a good friend, and you didn’t want to lose her friendship. Jack had been worried about Jen’s reaction but for the most part, he had been fine with it. David was happy for you both. Audrey was doing better these days and though she had wanted to know what the hell you were thinking by shacking up with The Sleaze (as she referred to him), she had eventually told you she loved you and just wanted you to be happy. Joey asked you if you were sure when you told her and when you assured her that you were, she pretty much said the same thing as her former roommate and gave you a hug. She gave you a look when you pulled away and you knew that she had connected the dots on who you really were to CJ, but to her credit, she mercifully never said anything. Pacey and Emma had shrugged (CJ had apologized to Pacey at some point after what happened with Audrey and they had resolved things), wishing you well. Dawson…well, you never really got to know Dawson all that well during his brief visits so no conversation needed to be had there really. All in all, your friends were supportive, even if still a little wary of how things were going to work out. You were happy, though. It was strange but shifting from friends into romance proved to be an easier transition then you thought it would be.

CJ laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going without you.” You went to speak, to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, when he cut you off. “I know what I want. I’m okay with my decision. I need you to be, too.”

You tenderly stroked his arm. “Are you sure?” You whispered, worried he was making a mistake.

“More than sure.” He then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“Okay,” you whispered to his lips before kissing him again.

And now you had met all of his co-workers at The Stand and had seen where he worked a few days out of the week. He had offered to bring you several times before, but you had been hesitant to take him up on it, still worried someone might figure out who you really were. It’s not that you were embarrassed that you had called the helpline for help, but your business was your business and you didn’t want to be seen as that girl CJ got himself through the service. You both obviously knew that wasn’t the case but people talked, people judged, and you just wanted to steer clear of both as long as you possibly could. You knew you shouldn’t care what anyone thought or said, just like CJ didn’t; it was something you were currently working on in therapy. 

“So,” you teased when he finally broke away for air. “Is there a switchboard somewhere that you have somebody directing all the girls to you when they call? Is that how I got you every single time I called?” 

He grinned. “Not exactly. I told everybody that any calls that came in on Fridays at 7:00 were mine.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Well, how did you know I would call every single time?” You huffed out. “How do you know I might not have gotten held up? Or made plans at the last second? Or got fed up with you?”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “Because you liked talking to me. I could tell.”

You playfully swatted at his shoulder, making him laugh, and rolled your eyes. “It always amazes me that you’re able to make it through doorways with that massive ego of yours. That can’t be how you knew I would call you every time.”

His smirk grew and he nodded. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled. You didn’t really mean it and he knew you didn’t.

CJ pulled you closer up against him. “You have a weird way of showing that.” He inclined his head towards your embrace around his neck. 

“True,” you murmured and kissed him again.

“Plus,” CJ added when you pulled back. “You always said you would call back and I believed you.”

“Better,” you decided. “Though I will begrudgingly admit that I did like talking to you.”

“Like I said, I could—”

“Hush.” You covered his lips with yours and he chuckled into your mouth. When you pulled back this time, you laid your forehead against his, your eyes closed, smiling. “I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you, too” he whispered back to you, lifting up to press a kiss to your brow before you buried your head into his neck and he discreetly snuck his hands under your shirt to rub your back, just the way you liked. 

“Want to get out of here?” He asked you after a few minutes had passed.

“Mmm.” You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “No Fleetwood Mac this time, though.”

He laughed and helped you to your feet. “What have you got against one of the greatest bands of all time?”

“Nothing. It’s just weird to listen to that chorus when we’re about to…you know.” You could feel your cheeks starting to warm.

He grinned salaciously at you. “Oh, I know. Hey, at least it’s not the Star Wars theme.” He snickered at your glare and picked up your hand, kissing it. “No Fleetwood Mac tonight. Got it.” He intertwined your fingers and his grin softened into an affectionate smile before he led you out of there. You quickly made your goodbyes and hurried back to his place where he kept his promise of no rock group music track playing along to your own soundtrack. 

Later, as CJ slept, you repeatedly ran your fingers through his messy hair in soothing strokes as you studied him. Who knew calling the helpline that one Friday night would lead you here? Where you were happy, in love, and doing much better than you ever thought possible? You had gone from feeling overwhelmed by your education to feeling a different type of overwhelmed together. Overwhelming love and affection for the special person in your life; overwhelming gratitude for the progress you’d been able to make in managing your anxiety and panic attacks as best you could; and overwhelming contentment with every single moment, no matter the ups and downs that was best known as life. Regardless of whatever happened from here, you knew you’d be okay and you’d handle whatever was thrown your way. Like CJ had once said, one day at a time.

In his sleep, your boyfriend reached out for you and pulled you in closer to him, snuggling into your side and burrowing into your neck, making you smile.

And to think, you almost hadn’t made that call. You laid your head against CJ’s and closed your eyes. You were so glad you did.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[maretinelli]

I CAME TO APOLOGIZE²

Sirius Black X fem!reader

Summary: After years without him and all the problems, someone knocks on Y/n's door, making her surprised. And after a lot of talking, she needs to introduce someone to him.

Words: 2.8K+

Warnings: Mention of death, Post Azkaban, babies, food, anguish and happy ending.

Author: Look, here I am with part 2, you asked for it and I brought it. It's not one of the best, but I hope you like it. And yes, it has a happy ending!! English is not my first language, I apologize for any writing and spelling errors.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

Y/n only lasted 1 year in Switzerland when everything started to go wrong for the Order of the Phoenix in Scotland.

Voldemort's Death Eaters began to grow stronger and launch rebellion after rebellion. It started with Dorcas' murder, Marlene's murder, Peter betraying the Potter's, Lily and James' death, Sirius going to prison, Remus moving to Europe to who knows what country and little Harry being left without a family.

Knowing this, Y/n gathered everything she had in Switzerland and returned to her old home. To which, he fought to have custody of Harry, so that he could still have some kind of contact from those who loved him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Twelve years had passed and every day Y/n struggled to keep everything in order and give everything the best to the two children.

Of course, she had found a great job as a Magizoologist that paid her well and was enough to support the three of them and also go on trips that would certainly remain in the memory of the two children.

And he also sold his books. As she progressed better in the field of Magizoology, she wrote everything in a book, until two years ago she decided to publish it and which brought in extra money. To which, she divided the amount and deposited it into the account of the almost teenagers.

The beginning was not easy, indeed. But as she got used to the idea, the grief passed and the future arrived, Y/n stayed strong to work and give everything they needed.

At the time, the woman was in the kitchen of the new house putting a lemon pie to bake, while 13-year-old Harry and Marie played like children in the snow.

She smiles as she approaches the window and calls out to the two of them.

"Hey, Marie and Harry. Come in!! It's getting colder and colder!!"

The two look at Y/n and smile in sync.

"We're coming, Aunt Y/n!!" Harry shouts back excitedly and throws one last snowball at Marie.

"Hey, Hazz!!!" She tries to get angry, but starts running after the boy as they both laugh and enter the house.

With that, Y/n hears the two running into the house and making a mess in the living room.

"Hey you two, be careful not to fall. That snow on you could melt and slip in the wet." She leaves the kitchen and stops at the doorframe, which gave access to the living room of the house they recently bought.

Marie stops running after Harry and looks at the woman, who had a dish towel on her shoulders and some flour on her face.

The girl smiles and walks, stopping in front of Y/n.

"Mommy, Mommy!! What were you doing in the kitchen?!" She says naughty, while cleaning her mother's face and placing a kiss on the eldest's cheek.

Y/n laughs at her daughter's act and quickly squeezes her cheeks.

"I just put a lemon pie in the oven for us to eat in a bit" she says and then Marie runs up to Harry and they start jumping.

"Lemon pie!! Lemon pie!!..." they sang together, and hugged each other running around the room.

"You look like two children" Y/n laughs, rolling her eyes and smiling.

Harry and Marie behaved like brothers. Well, you see, they were both the same age. Yes, Harry might be a few months older, but they were still in the same class at Hogwarts and were the same age.

After Y/n returned from Switzerland, those who survived the first war were shocked to see her with a baby in her arms. They even asked if she had gotten married, but Y/n denied it and ended up telling the whole truth. Which left everyone's jaw dropped.

And when she told Remus in a letter, the other week he was knocking on the door of her old house to see if it was real. But in the end, he was happy for her, and knew about the entire journey that Y/n and the baby's father went through at Hogwarts. Everyone saw how in love they were.

After she gained custody of Harry, she raised him and Marie as if they were siblings and it was working. One couldn't live without the other and at Hogwarts they were always in trouble.

Just like their parents - Words from Minerva.

"Only first!" She raises her finger. "You guys should go upstairs and take a shower to get all that snow off."

Harry's shoulders slump, but then he looks at his aunt.

"But can Marie and I watch some TV?" He asks and Y/n smiles in agreement.

"Only after they have spent an hour reading. Remember our agreements"

Harry and Marie nod their heads in agreement and each go up to their room.

Y/n smiles and then goes back to the kitchen to wash the dishes she had left dirty.

They were wizards, they could very well put a spell on the objects to wash themselves, but Y/n always liked having Muggle actions and objects. Like the very TV Harry had just talked about.

While she is washing the dishes and the two are upstairs getting ready for the night, she hears a desperate knock on the back door of the house.

She frowns and then holds her wand in her hand as she walks towards it.

It could very well be Moony, he had this habit of scaring her when he visited his nephews. But the knock on the door didn't seem to be from the werewolf, but from someone in despair.

The door slams again and then she screams.

"Hey hey, I'm coming. Whoever it is!!" She says angrily and then opens the door, coming face to face with a man with long, dark hair and beard.

The woman's body froze. Could it be him, the person she hasn't seen in over 13 years?

He couldn't, he didn't know where she lived, she had recently moved.

He couldn't, he was in Askhaban. Although she knew that he hadn't betrayed the Potters years ago and reinforced this to Marie and Harry, every time he told some stories from the past.

"Y-Y/n?!" The man whispers.

A solitary tear fell from the woman's eye.

"Sirius?" She says and he nods.

She smiles a little and runs into the man's embrace. Not even caring about the condition he was in.

"Come in, you're going to freeze here" she helped Sirius enter the kitchen and then sat him down on a chair, while she pulled out another and sat down in front of him.

"Sorry, I didn't know where to go. But then I saw Harry out in the yard just now and I thought it could be you or someone from Hogwarts." He says quickly and Y/n shakes her head.

"Alright, alright," she begins, already with a thousand and one thoughts running through her. "You're shaking, hold on" Y/n gets up and runs to the living room to get a blanket that she always kept there. "Here, this will warm you up a little" the woman puts the blanket on Sirius' back and he smiles a little. "What's up?! What's happening to you? Weren't you in Azkaban?"

With that, Sirius explained everything and with each sentence he said, Y/n's tears began to splash in her eyes, about to start crying.

"Siri, I'm so sorry!!" Y/n then cries and puts her hands on her face. "I'm so sorry for everything you went through, the Potters, the betrayal and...Oh my God. Marlene...the baby..." she cries more, remembering everything.

Sirius tries to reach for her hand, but she steps back and then stands up. While still crying.

"Look, if you want to hand me over to the aurors, I'll understand. But I really wanted revenge, Peter is still alive despite everything that happened. He's the traitor." He says weakly and Y/n looks at him as he stops walking around the large kitchen.

"I know..."

"What?"

"I know about Peter"

"What do you mean, Y/n"

"I've always had a hard time with him, and the day before I left for Switzerland, Lily came to my apartment to help me with the last things and told me that you had a last-minute exchange about the secret. I know it was Peter You betrayed them, you were wrongly condemned." She says this and then she can see Sirius' shoulders ease and he lowers his head. "I always wanted revenge, but I thought he was dead. But now that you told me he's alive, I feel enormous anger" Y/n says stronger, but with tears still falling.

Sirius still had his head down, while shaking his legs and cracking his fingers.

A habit that Y/n knew he had since meeting the boy in his first years at Hogwarts. He always did this when he didn't know what to do during a problem he had. At the time, it was usually with his parents, but now he was scared and didn't know what to make of his prison break.

The woman approaches and kneels in front of him, while holding his hands tightly.

"Hey, I'm here. It's going to be okay!! I'll help you" She says seriously and Pads lifts his head to look at the woman.

He had tears in his eyes, which made Y/n want to cry again.

"Ok..."

"But there's one thing!!"

He looks at her suspiciously.

"We should give you a treat. Azkaban probably isn't one of the best places with personal care" Y/n scoffs and smiles.

For the first time in years, she could hear Sirius laugh again.

"It seems your acidic humor still resides"

"Ah, you know. It's my way of dealing with difficult problems" She smiles and then analyzes the man.

He was older since the last time, but he still had traces of that boy she loved so much and who had to leave him behind to finally be happy with their journeys.

But it doesn't seem to have worked for either of them.

"Come, I have some clothes that Moony left here from his last visit, I think they'll fit you." She holds out her hand and Sirius stands up, following her to the first floor bathroom.

"Do you see Remus yet??" He asks.

"Well, yes!! Not much because he's always traveling for work, but he always comes to see Harry and Ma-- Oh damn!!" She trips over a pile of books and chocolate packets. "Sorry about the mess, we didn't know a visitor would arrive" Y/n turns and looks with a crooked smile on her face.

He just laughs and then follows the instructions Y/n gives him and enters the bathroom.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Minutes had passed, Harry and Marie were still upstairs - which made Y/n a little more relieved, as she didn't know how to tell Sirius that they had a daughter.

She was in the kitchen when she heard movement behind her. Turning around, she sees Sirius and smiles.

"A new man?"

"Definitely a new man" he smiles and then slowly walks around the kitchen, while looking at the picture frames scattered around the room.

He looks at one that contained Harry and Marie in the snow last winter. Marie was building a snowman, and Harry was smiling behind her, throwing snow. They laughed like children.

The other photo he sees is one where Marie was a baby and was lying on Y/n's lap. She probably had a few hours left to live, as Y/n's face looked tired, but her smile was still wide open.

"I didn't know you were married" he says, with a tightness in his chest.

"What?" She turns around and then sees Sirius looking at the photos. "Oh, no. I'm not," she smiles slightly, as she cuts potatoes for dinner.

He just nods and looks at another photo. Another where Y/n had Marie on her lap, but now she was two years old. Marie was lying in his arms laughing, while Harry was like a little monkey on the young woman's back. The three laughed happily for the camera.

"You have a daughter?" He asks and Y/n quickly turns around.

Sirius directs his gaze at the woman, making her nervous.

"Yes it is..." She says and then turns completely towards him. "I need to tell you something."

With that, they hear footsteps coming down the stairs and approaching them.

"Hey Tia, can Marie and I..." Harry stops talking and looks at the man. “Oh, hi” he smiles shyly.

Sirius smiles, trying to hold back the tears.

"Harry dear, remember Sirius? That your aunt always told you and Marie?!" He nods.

"Yes, my father's best friend" he says happily.

"That's it," she smiles. "Well, it's him!!"

Sirius looks at Y/n with fear and she walks next to him and whispers.

"It's okay, I told them the whole story until today. He knows it wasn't you" Y/n reassures, letting the man sigh deeply.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you" Harry takes his hand to shake and Sirius does the same. "And also, I'm sorry"

"For what exactly?"

"Ah, you know right. My parents and all that" Harry puts his hands back and looks at the floor.

When Sirius was about to say something, a girl with wavy brown hair arrived in the room. She had clear eyes and a smile that all naughty people would recognize.

She was wearing denim overalls and had worn a red Gryffindor sweatshirt over it, due to the cold.

"Mom, is the pie ready? I finished my book and I'm starving--- Oops..." She stops where she is, when she sees Sirius.

The face looked familiar with the photos she saw every day of her mother with her friends when she was at Hogwarts. Which made Marie's heart race.

"Hi, mom didn't say we were having visitors." Marie smiles friendly and extends her hand to shake.

"This is Sirius, daughter" Y/n finally says, thus drawing her daughter's conclusions.

Marie stops the action and remains statue, while looking at the man in front of her.

Now with Marie and Sirius facing each other, Y/n was sure that she was Sirius in the female and younger version.

"Yeah...Sirius, well..." Y/n stutters. "That's what I wanted to tell you about...she's Marie, our--"

"Daughter" Y/n and Sirius say together, which scares them both.

"Yes, our daughter" Y/n crosses her arms over her chest and lowers her head.

Y/n never hid Sirius from Marie and Harry's life. She had told them that the man was the boy's godfather and the girl's father, told them everything they had to hear and they were fine with it.

"At the time I didn't know, and I couldn't tell you either. I was in Switzerland and you were... we had... I couldn't..." Y/n tries to say something, but the tears started to come. fall down the face violently.

Sirius walks up to her and places his hands on the woman's cheeks, while smiling from ear to ear.

“Y/n, look at me” she does. "We have a daughter together. That's amazing!!" He says and Y/n sighs smiling.

"Yeah, I think so"

"I know everything we went through and had to do, but if it were at the time I would never deny her. And today, well today, destiny gave me another chance to be with you. You don't know the joy of hearing this news" He smiles and Y/n looks at him. "Know that I never stopped loving you, regardless of everything."

"I love you too, with all my heart" they lean their foreheads against each other.

Until they hear someone fake coughing.

"Hey, we're here!! Could you mommy introduce me to my dad?" Marie asks smiling and Y/n rolls her eyes.

"I see that the personality is yours" Sirius distances himself from the woman and turns to his daughter.

Marie smiles at her father and wraps him in a warm hug.

"But appearance is totally yours" Y/n says and then smiles seeing Marie hug and interact with her father, who was now at home.

Finally.

Harry looks at his aunt and smiles. Y/n calls him and the boy walks up to her and hugs her in the corner.

Now they were complete.

Sirius was home and everything would be more than fine.

The rest of the night was Harry and Marie happily telling Pads about their lives, while he made sure to listen to everything in detail.

Whatever is meant to be yours will always come back, regardless of how long it takes.

Author: and they lived alive and happily ever after, with Harry, Marie and another baby😚🙏🏽

[ohtobeleah]

An Angel’s Discretion //

Summary: When Bradley gets a call to say you’ve been involved in a major car accident, his whole world is turned upside down.

Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x wifeF!reader. Car Accident. Pregnancy, Bradley in a state of existential crisis. Pre-mature birth. Hurt/comfort. Goose cameo.

Word Count: 3.5k

It felt like time stood still yet had sped up all at the same time. Your entire world had been flipped on its head in the blink of an eye—you felt like your entire life was flashing before your eyes. A Rolodex of memories played out before you as you spun out and rolled down into the embankment. You didn’t know exactly how it happened or why it happened - but regardless of that, it still very much happened and you were still very much in trouble. 

It had been god awful weather recently, so much so the Dagger’s had been grounded for the better half of a week. Bradley had been home for a change, pottering around the house baby proofing sharp edges and making sure the crib was set up just like the instruction book had said. 

It seemed that people truly believed that the car you were trapped in for nearly half an hour had flipped and rolled hours ago. An empty mangled car on the side of the road—nobody stopped to see if there were any occupants. Nobody stopped to snoop. Nobody heard your cries— the cries of a woman in unimaginable pain. Hoping, praying, as you remained helplessly tangled in your seat belt. You had blood gushing from wounds you didn’t know what exactly had been caused by and had bones that shattered from impact. 

You stayed there, trapped in a mess of broken glass and twisted aluminum, whimpering as you rubbed your swollen belly. Seven months. Seven beautiful months carrying your child. Bradley’s daughter. You’d spent seven months promising to keep her safe - keep her sound. You didn’t know the gender but the feeling was there and it was strong, you were having a little baby girl. 

Bradley wanted to keep the gender a surprise, but you knew deep down with every fibre of your being that you were having a girl, that he’d be a girl dad till his dying day. But as you slowly brought your hand up to cup over your bellybutton? You knew something was utterly wrong.

“We’re okay, aren’t we spud.” You mumbled as your vision blurred and your head became far too heavy for you to keep it lifted. “Mama’s gonna take ca-care of you.” You struggled out before succumbing to the feeling of emptiness as you drifted into unconsciousness—the sound of your shattered phone playing your doting husband's ringtone. Replay by iyaz. One final smile appeared on your bloodied broken face as you heard the all too familiar sound. 

Before.....nothing. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Baby seats shouldn’t be this complicated to fit!” Bradley groaned as he tried to figure out how to secure the baby seat into the backseat of the Bronco. Jake was too busy trying to reread the instructions. “Nope, I can’t do this right now I need a break.” The pair of naval aviators had been off work for the better half of the week and while you were out grocery shopping, Jake had come over to lend a helping hand at putting together some flat pack furniture. “Good thing this baby isn’t coming for another few months.” 

“Ah, you’ve jinxed it now!” Jake teased, clicking his fingers at Bradley to grab his attention. “Also, apparently it’s meant to face the other way round.” Jake grinned ear to ear as Bradley deadpanned him. Giving up in entirety before he turned back to the house with a huff. “Oh come on! Where are you going, Rooster! we almost had it!” Jake laughed, jogging after his wingman up to the house. 

“I need a beer!” It had been a long afternoon for the two men who had done nothing but unpack and organise the nursery. Bradley was in his own nesting phase. He’d read in a bunch of parents books that nesting was something you’d go through in preparation for the little spud on the way. He was now finding that he was doing it too. 

“Oh I’ll take one too.” Jake trailed behind Rooster into the kitchen. “Job well done deserves a bevy.” Just as Bradley opened the fridge and passed Jake the Budweiser, his phone began to ring out on the kitchen counter. “Oh—unknown number man.” Jake announced. 

“It’s probably Y/n.” Bradley twirled his wedding band as he stood to answer his phone that was sitting on the kitchen bench, not recognising the number lighting up his screen. For a moment he wasn’t going to answer because why would you be calling from an unknown number. But he just had a gut feeling. He’d called you a few times before hand but you never answered, maybe this was you calling him back? 

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” A woman who sounded more panicked than calm spoke—needing a confirmation before continuing with her call. 

“This is he?” Bradley responded, turning back to Jake with a confused look on his face, eyes glancing up at the time. Five thirty in the afternoon. You should have been home an hour ago. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’ve just had a one Y/n Bradshaw admitted.” The woman on the other end of the phone call Bradley almost didn’t answer, explained. “Your wife, she’s unfortunately been involved in a severe accident and—“ Bradley didn’t hear the rest of what the nurse had to say as he dropped his phone, it clunked and clambered from the kitchen bench to the tiled floor below. “Hello? Mr Bradshaw?” Unable to process the news he’d just been told Bradley began to panic as his vision tunnel and his mind went numb. 

“Jake—“ Was it Bradley’s fault? Was he a terrible husband for not noticing how long you’d been gone? Was there something wrong with your car? You’d mentioned a time or two that the air conditioning had been making a funny noise. “Jake I can’t breathe—“ Bradley clutched at his chest as he groaned, it felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. “I can’t fucking breathe.” 

“Oh-okay, yeah we’re leaving right now.” Jake confirmed as he spoke to the lady on the phone. Hangman had picked up the phone Rooster had dropped, he listened to what the woman on the other end of the line had to say as Bradley started to sob, losing his grip on reality. 

Jake reached out to touch Bradley’s shoulder in an attempt to confront the aviator who’s world had just shattered into a million pieces, the moment he did though Jake Seresin witnessed his best friend collapse down to his knees in unimaginable pain at the thought of losing you. His girl. His wife. His best friend. The love of his life. The mother of...oh god the mother of his child. 

“Rooster we gotta g—“

“I can’t lose her!!” Bradley screamed as warm tears drenching his flushed face. “Can’t—won't lose her. I can’t!” Jake knew Bradley was hyperventilating, he’d seen a panic attack a time or two before when Bob had stayed in his spare room while his house was being painted. Jake also knew a panic attack when he saw one because he got them too. But this? This was a panic attack shrouded in heartache, one Jake would never understand. 

“Hey, hey Rooster.” Jake crouched down before his wingman— knowing he needed all the strength he could get. On the inside Jake was a mess. If Bradley lost you that meant Jake lost you too. Holding the back of Bradley’s head as he leaned in. “Listen man, this is so fucked up but she needs you, Y/n needs you to be there for her because she can’t do this alone? Alright? We gotta go— you’re her husband Rooster.” Jake reminded him. “Y/n needs her husband to be there for her okay? In sickness and in health you promised her.” 

Bradkey sobbed uncontrollably—but he got up. Knowing Hangman was right. You needed him, and like fuck was he gonna let you slip through his fingers. 

“Okay, okay let’s go.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It’s needless to say Bradley Bradshaw was a mess—a sobbing, shaking, totally exhausted figment of his former stoic self in the private waiting room nurses had told him to wait in. Jake contacted your mum and dad, he called Mav and Penny too who were already on their way over to the Miramar Base Hospital because hell was Mav somewhat sob going to go through this alone. 

“We don’t know what’s going on.” Bradley could just faintly hear Jake on the phone with Phoenix as he sat and twisted his wedding band around his ring finger. It kept him grounded but the tangible reminder of your love did nothing to stop Rooster's mind from thinking of the very worst. 

“We haven’t been told a single thing—“ Jake sighed as he ran his hand through his sun kissed hair locks. “No, no he’s not in a good way.” 

Bradley could hear only Jake's voice and only his answers. But he knew Phoenix would be going stir crazy not know what had happened or what was going on, they all would be. Every single member of Bradley’s naval squadron had become like family to you both. Extensions on the small albeit perfect family you were just starting. 

Bradley thought he knew heartbreak, thought he’d been through pain. He’d lost his dad when he was just shy of three years old and his mother just after his seventh birthday. But nothing—nothing, compared to the heartache of not knowing what was happening to you. If you were alive, if your baby was okay? If Rooster had just lost his young family before it had a chance to grow old. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” An older looking woman in scrubs asked as she knocked. Both Bradley and Jake looked up—both just as desperate for answers. “Hi” She cooed. “My names Jannette, I’ve been with your wife since she came in—“

“H-how is she?” Bradley could barely speak at this point, he was too afraid to know but needed answers. Although he’d stood from the chair he’d been perched in he still twirled his wedding band around his finger. He still needed that tangible reminder. You loved him, no matter what the outcome was you would always love him. To the moon and back and twice over you’d say before he left for deployments. 

In all Bradley’s years he always thought he’d be the one leaving you behind—he never once thought his wife that cut and arranged flowers for a living would leave him, the naval aviator who flew super hornets for a living. But here he stood in some twisted parallel universe that felt like a plot ripped straight from an episode of the twilight zone. 

“She’s critical, my colleagues are still working on her as we speak.” The room went silent as Bradley forgot how to breathe. Jake was by his side in seconds. “It's touch and go.” 

“My baby? How’s my baby?” If anything mattered to you, it was your unborn child. Bradley knew if anything happened to them that you'd never forgive yourself. You’d rather die than live a life without your baby. You’d done everything in your power to make sure they had the best chance of being strong and healthy and safe. You’d been the perfect mother. 

“She” The nurse smiled. “Is okay, we did however have to do an emergency c-section because your wife was unfortunately not able to carry her to full turn due to her uterus filling with blood.” It was a whirlwind of emotions. Bradley Bradshaw was suddenly a father, he had a baby girl. 

“Rooster, you have a little girl.” Jake helped Bradley take a few agonising steps as he took in the news. You’d given him a baby girl. A tiny little you. How could he ever thank you enough? How could he ever begin to repay that debt of gratitude, of love? 

“You can see her if you’d like? She’s in the NICU.” Jannette explained. “But you won’t be able to touch her without protection until she’s used to the new environment, premature babies can catch infections and colds despite our best efforts, so it’s best she says in the incubation chamber.”

“C’mon Bradshaw, let's go meet your little girl, yeah? You know Y/n wouldn’t want her left alone.” Jake was right. Bradley could hear everything going on around him but he couldn’t speak. He was still taking all this in. He was a dad, a girl dad. He was the father to your daughter and you weren’t here to see him start this new chapter. 

God it was bittersweet. 

“When will I know how my wife is?” Bradley asked as he followed the nurse he towered over—she had a little waddle that Jake couldn’t help but notice. 

“You’ll be the first to know her updated condition, Lieutenant, but from what I’ve seen so far your wife is one hell of a fighter, not a lot of people in her condition would’ve come out of that alive.”

Braduheld onto that tiny shred of hope, clung to it for dear life as he followed the nurse to meet his baby’s girl—way too early. How do you introduce yourself to a baby? Jake was right beside him. Do you think Jake Seresin would ever let his wingman walk alone through such a tragedy? 

Absolutely not. 

“Bradley, this is your daughter, obviously she doesn’t have a name so we called her Jane as protocol - short for Jane Doe.” The little girl was so incredibly tiny. She was dwarfed by wires and tubes connected all over her tiny body helping her little lungs breathe. Bradley couldn’t distinguish if she looked more like you or him. But fuck he wished she looked like you. He took a seat next to the incubator that held his bundle of joy. The joy he’d been blessed with by you. The joy and light of his world he’d helped create, a blend of you and him. 

“H-hey little one.” Rooster struggled to talk. “I’m your Dadda, your mums in a little bit of a situation right now but I’ve got you yeah?” Tears ran down Bradley’s face as he placed a fingertip against the glass. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, ever.” 

Rooster always said he’d never love anyone more than he’d love you—but this little girl? God she was already Bradley’s entire fucking world. For a single second he forgot you were in surgery. Watching as your daughter's tiny lips curled into a soft smile of a mere second. Bradley liked to think it was her acknowledging his presents. 

“Bradley?” Jannette interrupted, Bradley had forgotten all sense of time as he sat with his baby girl. “It’s your wife—she’s stable, sleeping but stable. She’s being moved to the ICU for around the clock observation.”

“When can I Uh, when can I see her?” Bradley let out a sob as he thanked the heavens above, his little family was okay—not great, not thriving with heath, but okay. Stable. Jake finally allowed himself to breathe for the first time all night. 

“We can go up there if you like?” Bradley nodded in response—looking over at Jake who already knew what his wingman was about to ask. 

“I’ll stay here, keep her company, go get your girl Rooster.” Jake hugged Bradley as tight as he ever had before. “You’re a dad man, congratulations.” Being the big brother Bradley needed but didn’t have. “I got you brother.”

Bradley didn’t know what to do when he first saw you—he stood at the doorway just staring at the women who had given him everything. So injured, so hurt. And he couldn’t do anything to help ease your pain. Even through all the injuries, tubs and wires, much like the little girl you gave precious life to, you still look beautiful. So gorgeous, so at peace. 

A soft “oh god” escaped Bradley’s mouth as he held back sobs walking towards you. Nurse Jannette giving him the space he so desperately needed with you. Bradley took in the sight before him. His beautiful wife, mother of his daughter, laying so lifeless in a hospital bed. He wished so bad you could be at home with him right now, tangled in the warm sheets, smiling and being your “happy go lucky” self instead of here. He wished so badly he could take you anywhere else in the world. 

Anywhere but here—like this. 

“Hey beautiful.” Bradley whispered. Biting his bottom lip to stop himself from breaking down for what felt like the one hundredth time tonight. “You don’t know it yet but you’re a mama, and dammit baby you’ll be the best fucking mum on earth.” Bradley grabbed the nearby seat and pulled it close. Once his hand was in yours there was no place else Rooster wanted to be then right by your side. Although he wished the two of you could be anywhere else together. 

“You’re gonna be okay baby, maybe not today or next week? But you’ll be okay. I won’t let you be anything but okay.” Bradley mumbled through soft sobs as he took notice of every injury that plagued your body. Every cut, stitch, wrap and blood stained patch that littered the soft and supple skin he loved so much. Bradley especially noticed the gash on your cheek—stitched. 

As Rooster sat with you, he could see your eyelids moving. He knew you were conscious, just sleeping. Heavily medicated, he knew you could hear every word he spoke. But soon Bradley Bradshaw watched in awe as you placed your hand over your stomach. Checking to see if your little spud was alright. When you noticed how small your stomach felt you moaned. 

“My—my baby?” Your eyes weren’t even open yet and you already knew something was terribly wrong. Even if your entire body was in agonising pain you needed to make sure your baby was alright. 

“Hey shh, shh, shh, I got you.” Bradley cooed, his hand gently reaching out to cup your cheek—the side without any noticeable injuries that would bring you discomfort. “She’s alright mama, she’s here a little early but she’s okay—j-just like you yeah.” 

“She?” Your eyes opened slowly at the sound of your husband’s voice—your neck killed as you turned to face him. Giving up quickly. Bradley was quick to notice the wince you let out. 

“She mama, our little girl. Both my girls gave me a pretty big heart attack this afternoon huh? Are you trying to kill me honey?” Bradley smiled. Noticing how you smiled back for a brief moment before the muscles in your cheeks gave up. 

“I’m so sorry” You whispered—eyes closed again as you couldn’t stand the light of the room. “I don’t know what happened— no one came though.” You started to cry. “No one came when I called for help for so long.” Bradley leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m here, I came, I’m not going anywhere my love.” Rooster sobbed back, sometimes being strong meant crying along with the ones you love. “God I thought I lost you.” 

“He said it wasn’t my time to go.” You sighed, clearly fighting off the urge to fall asleep. So groggy from the medicine that even the thought of being a mother hadn’t truly set in yet—all you cared about was that your baby was safe. She was alive. 

“Who did bub? One of the paramedics?” Bradley asked, a little confused as he pushed hair away from your face and made sure the oxygen tube was sitting just right. 

“He was in the car, said I couldn’t leave you yet, that you’d be lost without me.” You softly grinned while your eyes rested. “Had a moustache just like yours.” 

Bradley sat back in shock as he watched you drift back to sleep. Holding your hand thinking how the universe worked in mysterious ways. Bradley had promised to love you in good times and in bad - through sickness and in health. He’d live in the damn hospital if he had to—anything to be by your side. 

“God I hate it when he does this.” Goose groaned as he watched his son’s name appear on the shattered phone on the floor of your busted up car. “You’re not ready, it’s not your time so why bother even putting your through this crap.” The man spoke as you fell unconscious. “It’s not your time my dear and my son certainly needs you by his side or he’ll go crazy.” You listened, tried to nod, smile, anything to let him know you heard him. “You’ll be alright kid.”

Bradley Bradshaw had his family. He had his daughter, he had you. Going back and forth with Jake from room to room watching as both his girls slept. Both of you were still so unaware of the turmoil Bradley had been through. He nearly lost you. Without you? Bradley would’ve been helpless. 

But someone watching over him knew that as well as he did. A guardian angel not only watched over him....

But over his girls too.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

[iamnmbr3]

Ok I like #26 with Drarry, of course, but may I request for bonus points #26 with Harry and Lucius post-DH? 😈

26. What they would do if stuck in an elevator with [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

Oh ho! I am chortling! I love this so much!

Drarry

This depends on when it happens but let's go with immediately post-war. By this point Draco has come to terms with the fact that he's in love with Harry Potter but will never have him. Potter will move on with his life and Draco will try to pick up the shattered pieces of his. They'll likely never see each other again. It's for the best he tries to tell himself. Nothing could have come of it anyway. He destroyed any chance at even friendship long ago. He tries to tell himself it doesn't hurt. And then Potter is right there in the lift in front of him. The closest they've been to each other since Potter inexplicably spoke at his trial and spared him prison.

They kind of both freeze for a moment and just stare at each other. Neither really knows what to say. Harry immediately notices how much better Draco looks than the last time he saw him - the sheen is back in his hair and he's lost some of the hollowness in his cheeks. He has a subdued, open, almost vulnerable look though that Harry's rarely seen on him. Draco had written to him after his trial - thanking him and expressing remorse that Harry is sure was entirely genuine for all that Ron & Hermione remain skeptical. Harry'd meant to write back but there had been so much going on, so much pain and loss that he still hasn't gotten around to it yet.

And now Draco's here. His old enemy and yet all he can think is how glad he is that he's alive and safe. They both speak at the same time. Draco is trying to stumble through thanking Harry (yet again) and apologizing while Harry is trying to say that he got Draco's letter and he's sorry he didn't write back. They both stop and try again. It's awkward but it somehow it also breaks some of the tension. And suddenly they're actually talking - each asking how the other is doing and actually giving honest answers in turn. Because even though they've never been friends they aren't strangers either. They know each other. And each knows that in his own way the other understands - they have both suffered at Voldemort's hands after all, and still are plagued by similar nightmares, and they both know better than to believe in the mythologized caricatures they have both become in the public eye. And there's some connection between them, an inexorable draw that seems stronger than ever now there is no war to keep them apart.

The lift eventually stops but their conversation doesn't.

Harry & Lucius

This is AWKWARD. Harry is The Boy Who Lived Twice, the Chosen One who defeated Voldemort in single combat and probably 20 other epithets that he hates and is mortified by. Lucius is The Man Who Desperately Doesn't Want To Go Back To Azkaban, somehow known as a traitor by both sides and universally loathed. AND to make matters worse the last time he and Harry were in close proximity was at the Manor when he tried to hand Harry over to Voldemort. Not to mention the time in the graveyard when he jeered while Harry was tortured. Or the time in the Department of Mysteries. Yeah. It's not good.

Lucius spends the whole ride with his thoughts caught in a loop. Part of him just wants to stay still and unobtrusive - a skill that was beaten and cursed into him during those awful months when the Dark Lord lived in his house. He's only just been released. Potter has more reasons than most to hate him. The last thing he wants to do is provoke him. But if he doesn't say anything maybe it will seem arrogant or insufficiently penitent or worse still, hostile. And he can't afford that. But what can he say that won't be obviously false and ingratiating?

Meanwhile Harry's first thought is that Lucius looks kind of pathetic and diminished and he feels a small spark of pity for him quite against his will. Then he notices that Lucius is looking at him funny and seems on the verge of speech and he starts wondering if the man has somehow figured out that while he's been in prison Harry has taken up with his son and oh Merlin he does not want to be the one to have this conversation. (Lucius sees Harry frowning at him and becomes convinced he's going to be thrown back in prison by the end of the day.)

Draco subsequently gets two separate frantic letters by owl post. "I was at the Ministry today for my first required meeting with my parole officer and Potter got in the lift; I think he suspects me of something..." the first one begins. Meanwhile the other starts off: "Draco - I ran into your dad today at the Ministry. I think he knows about us." Draco hasn't laughed this hard in years.

Send me a character and a number.

[tonicandjins]

the room smells like absolute shit

CHARACTERS: haechan | lee donghyuck and reader

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

GENRE: harry potter au, slytherin!haechan, ravenclaw!reader

WARNINGS: none, just teenage fluff

amortentia (the room smells like absolute shit) is the second installment from 23 moments with donghyuck.

It’s no secret that the ongoing cat-and-mouse game between you and Slytherin House’s very own Lee Donghyuck remains unceasing from the day you and him were sorted five years ago to this day. Today’s no different than the others, except it’s the day before Slytherin House plays against Ravenclaw, your very own, and Lee Donghyuck seems like he’s decided to make your day extra horrible—he’s done it five times already, and it’s barely two in the afternoon.

one

The first one was during breakfast, and if you are being completely honest, you should’ve expected it. Lee Donghyuck likes torturing you when you’re on your period; you don’t even want to remember the full story of how the fuck he even knows what week of the month you get yours. (Long story short: Lee Donghyuck had to be there the first time you got your period in third year.) He claims that he knows your period is on as soon as you enter the Great Hall, because your hair is always uncombed on your first day and your eyebrows are always furrowed when you’re in pain. Donghyuck says if pain and aggravation had colors, you’d be burning in hues now.

“You’re easily the most predictable person I know,” he’d tease, mouth agape as he laughs at the way you would huff from the pranks he’d do just to make your day worse than it already is.

Today was no different. You hadn’t even seen him yet, but he’s made his presence known as soon as you sit and the loudest, most obnoxious sound of fart comes out. It’s Lee Donghyuck who laughs first, and you’re not really in the mood to say anything, hence you take the muggle-made fart cushion off from where you’re seated and throw it from where he’s sitting with his equally cunning friends. You wonder which of his friends brought it for him.

Yeji finds it hilarious. “He just wants to make you laugh,” she comments.

“More like want me to drop out and move across the world,” you grumble as you take a treacle tart and a piece of crumpets from the dishes. The pain stings as you try to sit comfortably. “Fuck this period. Why did none of our ancestors ever think of a stupid charm that could rid period cramps?”

Yuna sighs, agreeing. Yeji smiles even wider and hands you a vial filled with blue-ish liquid.

“What’s this?” you ask, taking it and observing how poorly it’s sealed. “Looks like something a first year would make.”

Yeji shrugs, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “It magically appeared on your seat. The same time that fart cushion popped up under your seat.”

You click your tongue, opening the vial and drinking it anyway. The ocean-colored liquid tastes like absolute crap, if you’re being honest, but its effects come as quickly as the potion runs down your throat. The cramping pain from your lower abdomen vanishes. Like magic.

two

Whining, Donghyuck follows you around after first period—all out, arms wrapped around one of yours as he drags his feet wherever yours take you.

“Donghyuck, my books are heavy enough, stop dragging me with your weight!” you shriek. “I’ll come! I’ll come! Just let me go!”

Donghyuck cheers, surprising you with a big, sloppy kiss on your left cheek, letting you go while you stand frozen in place. “I knew you could never resist me. I will see you at Quidditch then. And you will cheer for me! Fuck Houses! I’ll cheer for you in the Annual International Wizard Gardening Competition!”

He runs off and waves goodbye as he catches up with other players clad in their Quidditch capes and jerseys, blending in like he’s always been born to be in this scene.

You can’t remember a time that Lee Donghyuck isn’t talking about Quidditch. You’d met him in first year, when his voice squeaked higher than it does now, and the first thing he had asked Madam Hooch was when he could join the tryouts. Poor little Donghyuckie spent the entire period sulking and pouting when Madam Hooch confirmed that he should at least finish one year of flying lessons and ask her again next year. It was truly all Donghyuck had ever dreamed about. Hence, he had spent his entire first year in Hogwarts learning about the Quidditch and practicing flying more than anyone in the entire castle.

Come second year, Donghyuck auditions the first day of class after summer break. You remember how the entirety of the Hogwarts had cheered when he showed off his flying skills. It didn’t take long for the captain of Slytherin’s Quidditch team to pick him that day. He’d started as one of the keepers, showcasing his impressive ability to defend Slytherin’s hoops, and made his way up as the team’s Seeker, having been promoted this year, fifth year.

And today was his first big game as their house’s Seeker. It’s Slytherin versus Ravenclaw for the first round, and the entire castle is just shuddering in excitement. Lee Taeyong was Slytherin’s most well-known Seeker, the second youngest Seeker after Harry Potter himself, and the longest one for House Slytherin—from first year until he’d graduated last year. This year is exceptionally intriguing because no one’s won against Slytherin because of Lee Taeyong—at least for the rest of Hogwarts.

It’s different for you, though. It’s appealing in some sense, but stressful in a way.

Donghyuck must feel so much pressure now. You’ve unwillingly known him for years, and despite the never-ending games of teasing and pranks, you and him are everything but strangers. Hence, you conclude that it’s normal to feel this way.

“Quidditch players are so damn lucky,” Renjun, a friend from Hufflepuff, huffs from behind you. “They’re excused for classes when it’s Quidditch season. I wish Slug Club get some sort of perks, too.”

You giggle, hopping and wrapping an arm around the Hufflepuff’s shoulders. “We get the Christmas party every year.”

Renjun shakes you off of him. “Hey, I don’t want to get in trouble with the Slytherins.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why would you get in trouble with the Slytherins? That’s such a stereotype, Renjun-ah! You’re the last person I thought would have some prejudice over houses!”

“That’s not what I mean, idiot,” he replies. “Words say one of the Slytherins has a thing or two for you. And I don’t want to be in their radar.”

You slap him on the arm. “Didn’t take you to be such a gossiper.”

“It’s not gossip if it’s true!” he defends, ruffling your hair. “Off to Transfiguration?”

You groan. “Yeah. Let’s go together?”

“Sure. Did you finish the assignment—”

“Hey, idiot!” Renjun is cut off by Donghyuck running back to you. “I just remembered I need you for a moment.”

Then he’s pulling you away from Renjun.

You arrive late for Transfiguration. Because Donghyuck wanted you to look at his uniform. Talk about being annoying.

three

Defense Against the Dark Arts is in third period, and Yeji hurts herself halfway through the hour. Yeji and Chenle were playing around and were practicing hex-deflection; the scenarios happened too fast that nobody caught on that Yeji’s been hurt until Chenle started screaming.

“She’ll be fine,” Madam Pompfrey assures as she covers the now sleeping Yeji with duvet. “I’ll have her stay here for the night, too. You can go back to class.”

You nod. DADA is over by now, anyway. “By the way, Madam Pompfrey,” you call out just before she closes the curtain separating Yeji’s bed from the others.

“Earlier today,” you start. “I had really bad cramps because of my period. I found a vial with a blue, green-ish kind of fluid and recklessly drank it. It really helped. Do you have any idea what that is?”

Madam Pompfrey’s eyes widen. “So, that was for you?”

“Huh?”

She smiles. “Donghyuck from Slytherin house has been experimenting on that potion with me for weeks now. He’s been studying in the library, looking for the best ingredients to help with women’s menstrual cramps without any side effects that could compromise the condition of the rest of your body. I heard he had a sister in third year, so I assumed it was for her.”

Your heart somersaults like never before. Madam Pompfrey smiles knowingly. “I guess it was for you,” she concludes.

You leave the hospital wing with your breath hitched, each step making your knees weaker by the second. Lee Donghyuck knows how to annoy you even when he’s on the other side of the damn castle.

four

Lee Donghyuck pulls you away from your friends when you’re on your way out from the Great Hall after lunch.

The door of Room of Requirement appears before you, and Donghyuck pulls you with him, dressed in his brand-new uniform, different from the one he wore earlier before he ran off to practice at the Quidditch Tower. You wonder how he even finds the time to annoy you when the tournament starts in about two hours.

When the door closes, you observe that the room’s transformed itself into a room the size of a greenhouse, filled with lavenders, jasmine, and chamomile. And you have the slightest idea why Donghyuck needs a room full of flowers at this point. You gently place your copy of Advanced Potion-Making on a table that holds countless of ceramic plants holding lavenders.

He starts walking back and forth, anxiety showing in his eyes and the corners of his lips. You can hear how heavily he’s breathing from where you stand.

“Anxious?” you ask. Donghyuck only nods, still walking back and forth. “Here. Come here.” He stops, turning so he could look at you. You step closer when he doesn’t move and take both his hands in yours.

“Breathe in,” you softly say. Donghyuck follows. You start counting to five. “Breathe out.”

You and him repeat and stay like that until you hear his breathing go back to its normal pace. He keeps his eyes on your shoes.

“You’re gonna be fine,” you murmur. Donghyuck closes his eyes. You reach up and cradle his face in your palms. “Where’s all that confidence now? Did you run out of it after drowning me with an incredibly unnecessary amount of confidence all these years? This is the time you need it the most.”

Donghyuck falls apart in your touch and opens his eyes, chuckling. “I knew I made the right decision to pull you here. My confidence came back just now. You’re my confidence. Because you suck and I’m the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, rolling your eyes as you step back, the space between you and him reclaiming its presence. “That, you are.”

He smiles. “You don’t suck that much. Just a little. Sometimes.”

“You, too,” you agree. “You’re going to kill it. I’ll cheer on you even if it means everyone in Ravenclaw House hates me.”

“No one could ever hate you,” he says like it’s a fact.

You smirk. “You do, though.”

“I’ve never said I hate you,” he bites back. “In five years that we’ve been unwillingly revolving around each other’s gravity, I’ve never said I hate you.”

You nod. “I know.” You reach up to gently pat his cheeks once again. “People will know you as Lee Donghyuck today, not Lee Taeyong’s replacement. I know that is exactly what’s been going around in that head of yours. They’re gonna remember you today when you show them No Hands and woo the crowd with Sloth Grip Roll. And you’re gonna win it out there.”

Donghyuck’s eyes follow your lips as you speak. He stares at it longer than he should, and you stare at his, like a magnet pulling you in. His honey-colored skin and tantalizing brown eyes look beautiful under the sunlight peeking from the windows of the room, and from where you stand, you see how much he'd grown. Part of you wonders if he feels the same, seeing you in this light and being taken aback to five years ago, the very first day you'd met in the train to Hogwarts. You mull over the possibility of knowing him beyond what the walls of this castle could show you, knowing him beyond teasing remarks and harmless pranks, knowing him beyond all these years of push-and-pull, knowing him beyond sneaking glances at his lips.

But you’re not about to kiss him in the Room of Requirement. Not when all your feelings are all over the place, scattered and lost. Not when you aren’t sure if he even feels the same kind of rush when you’re around.

It doesn't help that this, whatever this means, has been going on for years. You and Donghyuck are growing up together, and though you and him keep saying you're unwillingly spending your teenage years together, you can't help but think, if given the choice in a few years, would you finally, willingly spend your twenties together?

You're nearing the end of your teenage years together, involuntarily and as borderline friends. Does Donghyuck ever think of you in ways you—admittedly—daydream about him sometimes? Does he think of you when he drinks chamomile tea the way you remember him when you get a taste of butterbeer? Does he also wonder what you do in the summer and think of calling you, only to back out right before pressing call because his heart is thump, thump, thumping like fucking crazy just by the thought of hearing your voice?

Does Donghyuck feel the way your knees are weak now?

Your heart pounds, so loud that you can hear it beating right in your eardrums.

So, you flee, telling him you’re late for Potions, which you most definitely are, leaving Donghyuck and hopefully, the feelings you can’t seem to figure out.

five

The room smells like the Quidditch pitch when you arrive fifteen minutes into the class.

Professor Slughorn raises an eyebrow on you, but tilts his head towards the board where it shows which potion the class is working on today. You find your way towards Yuna and it’s only then that you realize you’d left your Advanced Potions-Making book inside the Room of Requirement. Yuna lets you share her book. The entire class is halfway done anyway.

The potion for the day is called Amortentia, which is apparently the most powerful love potion in existence, which you think is absolute bullshit. You skip through all its description, effects, and history, proceeding to the details instructions of how it’s done.

You start with boiling half a cup of standard potion water and later on adding ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, refined peppermint oil, and moonstone. Once it’s exactly as it’s described in the book, you drop the mother of pearl. The last ingredient was a drop of blood, so you quickly prickle a finger with a needle, pressing your pink with two fingers until the red liquid drops from your skin down to the cauldron.

You finish a little later than everybody, and you’re not sure whether you’d followed the instructions correctly, because yours still smell like the Quidditch pitch. You look around, and everybody’s busy smelling theirs. You lean over to your cauldron, and it doesn’t smell like anything exceptional in particular. Alongside the grassy scent of the pitch is warm tonka bean, deep cedar, and the overwhelming scent of rich jasmine and vivacious juniper berries, which isn’t really that impressive because you smell this all the time.

You smell it all the time because it smells exactly like Donghyuck.

You grab the book from the table you share with Yuna.

Page 62 says, “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It caused a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker. It had a distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rose from it in characteristic spirals. Amortentia is considered an incredibly dangerous potion, as one should have never underestimated obsessive infatuation.” Then why the fuck does it smell like Donghyuck? And the entire god damn room, too? Does Donghyuck bathe in Amortentia every day?

“Yuna,” you ask. “What does your potion smell like?”

“Sandalwood,” she answers dreamily. “And leather. And floral rose.”

Oh. Then you must have done something wrong. “I think I mixed up the ingredients.”

“Well, what does yours smell like?”

You shrug, “Something really weird.” You turn the page to 63 where the potion is described better.

“Amortentia smells different for everyone,” Yuna continues, and so does the book.

“Amortentia has a different aroma for everyone who smelt it, reminding each person of the things that they found most attractive," the book says.

“Basically,” Yuna’s voice fades in the background. “You smell whatever you’re attracted to."

"Even if the person did not acknowledge or was unaware of their fondness for the object of their affection themselves," the book shouts.

Oh no.

Yuna sighs dreamily, "I aced mine pretty well. I mean, for example, my potion smells exactly like—”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper when it truly, truly hits you.

“No, silly,” she laughs.

“No, Yuna,” you protest. “Mine smells like—”

“Donghyuck, what brings you here?” Professor Slughorn’s voice catches you off-guard. You and Yuna turn to where he’s looking at, and by the door, Lee Donghyuck stands, holding your copy of Advanced Potion-Making.

“I just wanted to bring this to Y/N. She’d left it when she was wandering around Slytherin’s quarters because she’s so obsessed with me,” he announces, smiling widely as he shows off the book.

You stay frozen in place. “What are you all cooking?” Donghyuck sniffs, looking around until he locks eyes with you. “What’s this horrible scent?”

Oh, no.

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on you, equally as confused when he starts realize what the potions smell like.

“Why are you wasting so much perfume, Y/N?” he asks. Everyone goes silent. “The room smells like absolute shit.”

Oh. Merlin’s Beard.

bonus

Slytherin House wins, of course, and you lose your voice cheering for Ravenclaw and Lee Donghyuck, which earned you side-eyes from your peers and at the same time teasing remarks from Renjun and Yuna.

His friends call you an honorary Slytherin and invites you to their Common Room. You're the first person that Lee Donghyuck looks for at the afterparty.

He arrives earlier than the others, and his mates gather around him as soon as he steps in the room, but Donghyuck, Merlin's Beard, Lee Donghyuck doesn't waste time and goes straight to where you stand and kisses the air out of your lungs.

You're on your fifth year in Hogwarts when you learn that Lee Donghyuck tastes like strawberries and that the perfume his mother makes for him is made from jasmine and juniper berries.