#together. Harry is the driving force - it's simply his family that brings that force out in him.

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[ghostoflinny]

Smutty number 3 for the prompts :)

For the prompt "We should probably leave, before we start a scandal."

Warning: smut and swearing

Pairing: Ginny Weasley x Harry Potter

“You are driving me crazy,” Harry mumbles in Ginny’s ear, his lips softly brushing her earlobe.

The fingers on his hands are digging into her hips as she tries to stand up, keeping her in place. She lets herself fall back against Harry’s chest. A smirk paints her red lips as she can feel the reason Harry doesn’t want her to stand up.

She looks around at the people around her, some strangers, some of her friends or family. They hadn’t had a night out with everyone in a long time because of everyone’s busy schedules. It also meant that Harry and Ginny didn’t really get to see each other much and their moments together had been very brief and rushed lately, but god did she love every single one of them. She lets her hand travel up Harry’s thigh as she leans into him, turning her head slightly so she can look at him over her shoulder.

“You know I can help you with that,” she whispers huskily, biting down on her bottom lip.

She can hear his breath hitch as he looks down at her lips, feeling her rub against him draws an involuntary groan from him. In a quick movement she got loose from Harry’s grip, turning herself around to sit back onto his lap. Her arms around his neck and a grin on her lips that Harry knows predicts nothing good.

He truly admires this woman for her bravery, the fact that she knows there's people around them but she simply does not care. She doesn't care if anyone sees them, if anyone's looking. Harry suspects that sometimes it turns her on even more knowing someone might be seeing her driving him crazy.

Her hand travels up to his neck, disappearing in the ends of his hair and the feel of her pulling on the ends makes him shiver in his seat. She brushes her lips against his before bringing her lips to his ear, her breathing making him shiver again. Merlin, he is in such trouble.

“You just have to ask me and I will take care of it,” she teases him, grinding her hips once and her giggles make his heart flutter.

“You are a menace,” Harry moans as he feels himself throbbing against her, barely able to keep his breathing even.

His hands tighten on her hips, keeping her in place, to prevent her from causing any more friction, but fuck did he want it. The smirk on her face tells him that she knows exactly what she's doing to him. That she is driving him absolutely crazy and she is loving every second of it.

She bites on her lower lip, her own gaze flicking down to his lips. Her hand is still brushing through his hair as the other rests on his cheek, forcing him to lean into her as she brushes her lips against his again. He could never get enough from kissing Ginny, the way his stomach made somersaults and his heart would skip a beat when she initiated it, would never get old. It often made him forget everything around him, everyone around him.

“I want to kiss every single inch of your body,” she whispers against his lips. “Before I ride you.”

And when she bites his lip the way she does, it makes him lose every bit of composure that he has and his hands are everywhere, roaming every single inch of her body and-

Harry quickly pulls back from her. “We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.”

Her face is only an inch away as their eyes lock onto each other. The sight of her, flustered, breathing heavily and all wide eyed makes him weak. He loves this woman, he loves this woman more than anything in the world. She slightly tugs on his hair to get him back down to earth, her chest moving in sync against his as they breathe the same air.

“I want you to make love to me, Harry Potter.” Ginny breathes, no smirk on her face, just pure longing. “I want you to make love to me until I forget my name.”

Harry swallows hard. “Let’s get out of here then.”

[dracosathenaeum]

Enough

Summary: You want closure on why Draco broke up with you, not expecting the reason why

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x nonSlytherin!reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,728

It had only been two months since you and Draco had broken up, yet he was already parading Pansy around on his arm like some prize. You had been together for almost 3 years, you had practically grown up together during that time and yet out of the blue, the person who you trusted most became a stranger.

“It’s not working anymore, you’re not enough.” Those words had haunted your every thought for the past two months, not a single word of why. If you could just get an explanation; why weren’t you enough? Did you do something wrong? Maybe then you wouldn’t feel as lost as you currently did. Draco had moved on, that was clear as day, but you were still stuck in the past, still not believing that you two were really over.

You spent a year trying to get his parents to finally approve of you, thank god you were pure blooded else that never would’ve happened, but they had treated you as their own daughter. Breaking up with Draco meant not only losing him but his parents too, it was if you had lost your second family.

You missed mornings in the Malfoy Manor during summers in which you’d wake up early and have tea with Narcissa before Draco and Lucius would come down, each dropping their significant other a peck on the cheek before having breakfast together. You missed the simplicity and comfort of the place, no matter how dark and uninviting other people may have thought it to be, it had become home to you.

Now in your 6th year, you had lost your comfort. You were young, you knew that. Draco may have just been your first love or one of many, but to you, you really imagined spending the rest of your life with him. No matter how cruel or guarded he seemed to others, he was an entirely different person around you- to you. You just needed closure. Why had your future crumbled around you when you had least expected it?

Walking up to the Slytherin table, you felt a strange sense of déjà vu, it was like driving on familiar roads home after a long trip away, you had done it a hundred times but now it was different. You no longer had a place there.

“Draco, can we talk?”

“Can’t you see he’s busy? Besides, why would he want to talk to you when he has me?” You had never liked Pansy, she never sat right with you, yet you had never hated her more than in this moment. Ignoring her, you turned to Draco again, eyes glistening with tears as you asked again.

“Please Draco, all I need it 10 minutes.” He simply turned around, going back to eating, as if you weren’t there. Just another student who was too beneath him to be worth his time.

“I’ll be waiting, in our usual spot at 10 tonight, I’ll wait until you come.” You turned and headed back to your table before he could even process what you had said. But after 2 months of misery and unanswered questions, you had to know. You needed this closure.

10 came and went, as did 11 and 12. It was now 2am and you were still sat on the stone floor of the astronomy tiles, leant against the walls, staring out of the window. You still had hope though, even if he had moved on, there was no way his feelings for you had suddenly disappeared after everything you had been through. You weren’t even sure if you wanted him back at this point, you just wanted an answer.

“I knew you’d still be here, how pathetic. Draco isn’t coming, he’s mine now not yours. He finally realised that I was better than you in every way, I mean what was he thinking dating a non-Slytherin?”

“Go away Pansy, I won’t believe a single poisonous thing you say unless Draco is the one to say it to my face.” You were beyond tired at this point, tempted to just shoo her away and curl up against the alcove and fall asleep then and there.

“Pansy, go back, I’ll deal with her.” You head snapped up; you almost didn’t believe he actually came. You knew how stubborn he was, whether or not he came was simply a test for you to find out if he still cared.

Pansy huffed, crossing her arms across her chest before making a big show of kissing Draco on the cheek before turning and running back to whatever hole she climbed out of.

“It’s been two months Y/N, take a hint. I don’t love you anymore, I haven’t even thought of you since we broke up. You’re beneath me, I don’t know what I was thinking to waste my time with you.” his words hurt you more than you could ever describe. When had he turned this cruel and cold-hearted towards you? The boy who would twirl you around in front of the fireplace, eyes lit up and warm was now replaced with this shell.

“Just tell me why. You can’t convince me that you’re actually in love with Parkinson, we spent 3 years together, I know you. Please just tell me where I went wrong, maybe I can try and fix it? Please Draco, just give me this closure.”

You watched him closely for any sign of the old Draco. You watched as he gipped his left forearm tightly with his right hand, his expression gave nothing away, but you knew him too well. You knew then and there what had happened. Everything you had built up, the words you had been ready to say to him simply disappeared.

You weren’t ignorant to death eaters rising again, being a pure blood, your family had been warned enough times about not joining them. You believed Harry Potter, you trusted his word that Voldemort was back and that death eaters were wreaking havoc on the world again. You knew Lucius Malfoy had once been a death eater, but you had thought it was in the same way Professor Snape had once been and was no longer one.

Draco was a child. You were both still children. You had believed in Narcissa’s maternal love for her son, that she would never cause him harm such as this. You refused to believe that she had allowed for own son to be forced to take his mark. She was a second mother to you; how could she allow this to happen to her own son? Then again, maybe that was why, she would do anything for Draco, maybe she had no other choice. You needed to speak to her, you needed to know why.

“Is this why you broke up with me? Draco I- I love you and nothing, nothing will ever change that. Please just let me hold you again. Please.”

His eyes held onto your gaze for a long time, his eyes studied yours as you did the same, holding on and waiting for his walls to finally tumble, when they shouldn’t have had to come up around for you in the first place.

“I don’t deserve you anymore, not that I did in the first place, but I can’t do this to you. You know who I am, what my family is, I can’t let you be dragged through to hell with me. You can turn around right now and be free. I don’t have that choice anymore.” He couldn’t even bring himself to look at you, his hand gripping his arm so tightly you could see the veins in his hand bulging.

You didn’t say a word, deciding that actions would speak louder than anything you could say.

Crossing the room to where he stood, you gently pried his arm from his grip, holding his hand in one and tilting his head to look at you with the other. Letting go of his hand, but making sure he kept his eyes on yours, your hands went to his left arm, hands slowly and softly rolling up his sleeve to the elbow. Your eyes never once left his, but you knew whatever you saw, it wouldn’t make you leave him. No, you loved him more for it. Your heart broke at the sight of his panicked eyes, wide and scared that you would do exactly what he thought you would do.

He had been so sure that you would’ve left him the second you found out about his mark, and if by some miracle you had stayed, the last thing he wanted was for you to be dragged down with him too.

You held his wrist between your two hands, eyes finally leaving his to look at his arm.

It was truly horrific, the way it moved, the way it felt beneath your thumbs. You would never let your face betray how you felt though. Instead you dropped a kiss onto his wrist, careful to avoid the mark. Your hands left his arm, leaving the mark uncovered as your hands cupped his face and brushed the hair from his eyes.

You kept your eyes on his for a while longer, simply staring at each other, letting him make the first move. His arms finally moved, they wrapped around you waist, clutching you tighter than he had ever dared to before. His lips had barely touched yours before a sob broke out from them, tears streaming down his face as his body shook.

Your hands guided his head to your shoulder, letting him sob into your neck. His back slid against the wall, bringing you with him onto his lap. His arms gripped onto you so tight, as if he was worried you’d suddenly disappear or leave him. You simply rubbed the back of his neck, letting him cry; he needed you more than ever and you would be there for him, kicking yourself for not realising sooner.

You would get through this together, you loved him more than words could ever explain. And you knew he felt the same, he just needed to believe that you felt the same for him as he did for you. But now that there were no more lies between you, you knew you would be able to overcome this. And if you could overcome Voldemort, you could overcome anything.

#A/N: Uh have to admit, I haven't edited it as much as I would've like so there may be a few mistakes. Hope it was okay though, thank you for reading!

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[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟓.𝟒𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Friday, 7 August

Certain feelings linger. No matter what you’re doing, no matter who you’re with, what you’re feeling at that very moment, some emotions will stay with you. In the back of your head, or on your skin, in your nose, on your tongue. They wait for a moment to attack, when you’re most vulnerable, and when they do, it’s all you can do not to crumble to a million and one pieces. They’ll linger until they decide not to, and then they paralyse you. You become a ghost, living in the past, in a memory or a feeling or with people who aren’t part of your life anymore. You’re haunted, and the haunting: torturing yourself with memories you want to and try desperately to escape, but can’t.

Y/N was going through one of those moments when she sat with Bessie that Friday morning, looking at the flowers on the vines climbing the wall straight ahead in the back garden of the Inn. The flowers had triggered memories she should forget, memories of Harry and Gracie and the moors outside the lighthouse. Memories that should’ve been left alone, but that she simply could not.

“Y/N dear?” Bessie’s voice brought Y/N quickly out of her reverie. “Are you quite alright?”

Forcing a smile onto her face, Y/N nodded ever so slightly, looking down at the cardigan in her lap. She slowly started sewing again, paying close attention to her work in front of her.

“I would say,” Bessie started, taking her glasses off as she turned to the vest she was knitting. “I’ve known you for quite some time now, would you not agree, dear?”

Y/N glanced up at her again.

“And I can tell now when you’re not yourself. You want to know how?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t speak.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, glancing down at the fabric in her lap again.

“I’m therefore giving you one more chance to tell me what’s bothering you, and if you don’t want to say, you don’t tell me, alright?” Bessie said, eyes narrowed as she brought the brown vest closer to her face. “Are you okay?”

It was weird how she hated how well the people in St Ives knew her. She hated that Bessie could tell when something was off with her, that Jessa went out of her way to find recipes Y/N would like, that Grace knew what flowers to pick her, that Fatima knew her revision routine, that Florence would show her to the new things in Vintage Divine she knew Y/N would love. The people here had made such a huge effort to get to know her, every single part, and with them, she would leave small pieces as well. With Bessie, Grace, Jessa, Fatima, Ellie, Dax, lolo. Harry. She’d leave her heart with him. It would be hard to go on without a life force within her chest, but that was the price to pay for giving it away and letting herself feel.

“I can’t seem to get the hang of this new stitch,” Bessie groaned, putting her glasses on to look at the guidelines in front of her. “How’s the cardigan coming?”

“Uhm… okay.”

“It’s gonna be nice to wear when autumn comes around, innit?” Bessie smiled before reading the instructions again.

Y/N nodded her head, biting at her bottom lip as she studied Bessie some more. Bessie had known everything from the moment it had all begun. She had heard the conversation Harry and Y/N had one of those first days, had known ever since then that they were faking it. This woman knew Y/N almost better than she seemed to know herself, and yet there was a big part of it all that she did not know. If there was one person in this world that would not judge, that would hang onto her every word, that would not hesitate to give her advice, it was Bessie. Y/N loved Bessie so much that it sometimes scared her.

And because of that, she cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and said, “Actually… There’s something.”

Bessie’s kind eyes fell on Y/N again, showing her that she had her undivided attention. Seagulls were singing in the distance, the dotted sky overhead made it so the sun shone down on them every once in a while between layers of clouds. It was all so very St Ives, every single day this summer had been like this. It was as if the world had continued on turning, everyone else had continued to be, even after Y/N felt like the universe had crumbled around her. She knew that it wouldn’t stop doing just that until she faced her parents again, until she stood before them and told them to let her go. But before that happened, she had to gather all her courage. She had to be ready before it all went down, she was not ready yet.

“What’s on your mind, my dear?” Bessie asked, reaching over and resting her hand on top of Y/N’s.

“I, uhm…” Y/N furrowed her brows, looking down at the colourful cardigan again before she met Bessie’s eyes. She had to look into the older woman’s eyes when she told her this. It would be hard, but she needed to know that she was actually telling Bessie and that Bessie was listening. “My parents… I need to tell you what happened before I came here.”

Y/N told Bessie everything. About life back in Hampshire, her parents, Dominic, coming here, and everything that followed. She told her about Harry, how she felt about him, Dominic showing up, what had gone down between her and Harry, and the inevitable that would soon happen. Bessie listened intently, nodding along every here and there, taking Y/N’s hand when she began to cry.

“That’s why, after Jessa’s party tonight, I’m leaving St Ives. I’ll be getting the train- whatever train I can get,” Y/N said at last, wiping another tear away from her cheek. “I just… I just can’t be here.”

“In case your father comes here?”

Y/N nodded, biting her lips together to stop her bottom one from wobbling too hard.

“You’re scared of his reaction when he meets you again?”

“I know he won’t hurt me, but I don’t know how he’s going to react to seeing Harry and everyone else who kept me here.”

“When he eventually follows you, you’ll face him, yes? You’ll tell him, your mother, and Dominic that this is your life.”

Y/N sniffled. “Yeah, I just… I can’t be here when that happens. How will they react when they find out I’ve fallen in love with Harry?”

Bessie squeezed Y/N’s hand, giving her a reassuring smile. For a single second, Y/N felt better. “I’ll stick by you, Y/N,” the older woman said. “I’ll help you in any way I can. You are not getting stuck up there with them again, not if I can help it.”

At that, Y/N couldn’t help the slight sob that left her lips. Bessie tutted and wrapped an arm around Y/N, bringing her to her side to give her a hug and Y/N fell effortlessly into her and the embrace. “Thank you.”

“I’ll drive you to the train station,” Bessie said. “Just give me a shout, and we’ll leave, yeah? I won’t be mad if it’s in the middle of one of me ciders.”

Y/N chuckled and Bessie smiled, kissing her forehead.

“And come back here to St Ives when you’re done running. Whenever that is.”

Bessie was not the best driver, but Y/N knew that Harry wouldn’t appreciate her asking him to pick her up and reject her, and that was if he even bothered to answer. Instead, Bessie had offered to drive her as she was coming to the party too, and so the two of them headed there together. Before leaving, Bessie told the assistant receptionist to give her a bell if a wealthy-looking pair accompanied by a younger man in his mid-twenties were to come by the Inn. Though Bessie was sure it wouldn’t happen, she still wanted to be on the safe side.

They picked up Camila and her husband on the way, all of them chattering merrily amongst themselves about things of little significance. For a few minutes there, Y/N forgot she was going to see Harry again. After everything that had happened two days ago, they were going to be in the same room, and they were going to pretend like nothing had happened. They would have to talk and be close to one another, something that would be harder now that they both knew how the other felt, yet couldn’t be. As Bessie drove up the gravel road to the farm, Y/N held her breath as she thought about all the ways in which this could go wrong.

The trees opened up and revealed the green field beyond along with the small farm that Y/N had come to adore more than she could ever express in words. There was the barn where they had the karaoke night, and there was the house where she’d spent countless hours with the Styles-Flores family, where she’d allowed herself to feel content, allowed herself to feel genuine happiness.

The whole outside of the farm was filled with both cars and people, more than Y/N had ever seen there before. She recognised some right away, while others were foreign to her. She wondered how Harry felt now, with all these people around at once. Though he had proven to be able to be around a lot of people before, Y/N knew that he much preferred to just be at the lighthouse by himself. This party seemed bigger than something he’d enjoy; Y/N suddenly felt a small surge of protectiveness rush through her. In an instant, she wanted to be in that crowd and seek out Harry, to make sure he was alright.

Bessie killed the engine and turned to Y/N as Camila and her husband stepped outside. She gave Y/N a smile, squeezing her hand.

“Tell me when you’re ready to leave, I’ll drive you back to the Inn and to the train station, okay?”

Y/N took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she slowly prepared herself for everything that was about to happen. These would be her last few hours in St Ives. After this party, she would leave this wonderful town and the beautiful people in it. She would have to say a silent goodbye to everyone and try, as well as she could, to pretend like nothing was wrong. Y/N was no actress, so it would undoubtedly be hard, but she had also now, in the last few weeks, realised that she was willing to go to immeasurable lengths for the people she loved.

Y/N nodded at Bessie’s words. “Yeah, I’ll tell you. Won’t be too long, I know how you like to take walks along the beach on Friday evenings.”

“Oh, today is an exception, my dear!” Bessie exclaimed, squeezing Y/N’s hand again. “Today is most definitely an exception.”

The two got out of the car and made their way, with their arms entwined, over to the gate that led into the chaos of the farm. Some music was playing – Y/N thought it was some kind of piano tune -, the smell of delicious food hung permanently in the air around them, and laughter could be heard from every single corner. The atmosphere was just like it always was in St Ives, lively and filled with promise. Y/N fell right into it and for a blissful second, she allowed herself to relax. Nothing could touch her, she told herself. When she was surrounded by this much love, surely she was untouchable. She repeated that sentiment until she was stood reminded that, at any moment, she would have to leave and be driven back to the Inn to get her bag, and then leave St Ives for good. Because even love wasn’t enough when you were running away from something, it just made the running away much more complicated.

She saw Fatima and Amir standing together with their family, Amir giving Y/N a wink as their eyes met and Fatima waving. Ellie was stood with another woman, looking at her with such adoration on her face that the mysterious lady had to be Ellie’s Irish girlfriend coming to visit. Jo and Dax sat by a table not too far away from the grill, listening to Cameron as he told an elaborate story of sorts. Jo nodded their head at Y/N and Dax said her name, smiling from ear to ear, making Cameron look her way and give her a friendly wave. Some distance away, Camila, Barb, and Florence all stood chattering happily amongst themselves, chuckling at something Barb had just remarked. Y/N wondered how, in the span of a few months, she had managed to fit in and find a home in a town she had only spent a fraction of her time in. Was it true how Harry had once said, that some unknown force brought you where you needed to be? It would bring you where you belonged, to whom you were meant to belong with?

Y/N had never believed that type of thing before, but surely this could not all be coincidence. The life she had made for herself here, the people she had met, it was better than goodness and balance could ever bring her. This was more powerful than anything she had ever felt.

“Y/N!”

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw Grace running toward her, her arms outstretched and the biggest grin on her face. Y/N hunched down and welcomed Grace’s embrace. Bessie smiled, giving Y/N’s shoulder a pat before she went to join her friends. While feeling the little girl’s arms around her shoulders, Y/N felt tears pressing on. When she left, she would miss Grace and her hugs.

“You came just in time.”

“For what?” asked Y/N as the two pulled away from one another.

“The summer film, of course!”

Y/N cocked her head a little to the side, trying to get the drift of what Grace was saying but failing. “What do you mean?”

“Hasn’t Harry told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Ahh, look at you!” Jessa approached the two of them, that familiar and wonderful beam on her face that seemed to be permanently placed there. “You look breath-taking, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much, Jessa,” Y/N smiled at her. Their last conversation was all Y/N could seem to remember when she looked into the older woman’s eyes, and, once again, she found it hard not to cry. If interacting with these two made her want to bawl, how would she react when she met Harry?

“You alright, my love?” Jessa asked, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and bringing her close. “How have you been since we last saw each other?”

It was clear that the older woman was referring to the chat they had in the kitchen three days earlier, and at that, Y/N inhaled hugely, trying to calm herself down.

“I’m… I’ve been okay. I think.”

Jessa gave her a smile. “Since we started chatting about that recipe book, I’ve tried to put together a few recipes that I think you’d like. Of course, I’m also adding those I know you do like, but I think this’ll be amazing. You can teach Harry how to cook properly.”

“You can make me good food when I come to the lighthouse,” Grace beamed, and Y/N couldn’t help her slight chuckle. “Harry isn’t a good cook; he only makes me toasties.”

“I’d have to bring the book every time I’m visiting then.”

“Surely you’ll stay,” Jessa implored, looking at Y/N with expectant eyes. “Or do you need to go back to Hampshire?”

Y/N felt her heart beat hard as she tried to come up with some sort of explanation. Last thing she wanted to do was tell them both that she was leaving because her ex-fiancé and parents were trying to bring her back with them. She needed to make them believe that, when they looked back on this moment post her and Harry’s “break up”, they could believe that things weren’t working out between the two of them.

“I don’t have my own place here, and you both know how much Harry values his own.”

“You and Harry slept in the lighthouse that night,” Grace said, swaying back and forth while studying how her dress flowed with her. “Harry never lets people sleep in the lighthouse or come into the lightkeeper bedroom. Not even me. Maybe you could move in there.”

Jessa studied Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips before she beamed again. “What a fantastic idea, Gracie. That’s exactly where she should be.”

“Oh! I also picked you a bouquet of flowers! I’ve never picked you one, and I needed to!” Grace smiled up at Y/N.

“What about the bouquet you and Harry left outside my door at the Inn that time?”

“That was all Harry. He usually helps me pick my bouquets, but he wanted to pick you one, that’s why it was so lousy.”

Y/N let out a small chuckle. “I thought it was quite beautiful myself.”

“More beautiful than the ones I pick?”

“No one could pick a more beautiful bouquet of flowers than you, Gracie.”

Grace grinned at Y/N. “You’re just saying that to spare my feelings.”

“I’d never!” Y/N gasped dramatically, making Grace laugh.

“Y/N!” someone called from behind them, and when Y/N glanced back there, Dax was waving his arms, trying to make her come over. Excusing herself, Y/N walked over to the gang that had now gathered around the table, talking a bit and Cameron laughing loudly at something Jo had just said. She smiled as she came to stand with them, feeling their warm and comforting presence around her.

“Harry!” Amir called and Y/N whipped around in an instant.

The second their eyes met, Harry halted a bit. They had both been prepared for what was to come when this eventually happened, but it didn’t seem like they had been ready regardless. Everything, every word, every action, that had been exchanged at the lighthouse two days prior still lingered in the air between them. Looking into his eyes, Y/N still saw him screaming at her that she’d always have a choice, still saw him slamming his door at her and kissing her palm when they were in the car together. She saw every single second that had transpired between them up there. Part of her wondered if he did as well, if he felt as hopeless and as bad as her, or if it took everything in him not to grimace in disgust at the mere sight of her.

As he came nearer, Y/N wanted to reach forward and take his hand, touch his arm, smile at him, but she stopped herself. Instead, she watched as Harry smiled at his friends, coming to stand beside Y/N in the most awkward and tense stance she had ever seen on him. He made to put his arm around her waist, but she could tell that he stopped himself at the last second, instead giving her the same tight-lipped smile he’d given everyone else. When Y/N glanced at the others, they were all chatting, not paying attention to the awkward transaction between her and Harry. However, Dax was watching them like a hawk, eyeing the space between them, then studying each of them in turn before he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes.

“I spy-“

“-Shut up,” Harry said, only giving Dax a small look before he averted his eyes to look at the rest of the gang that were all talking happily. Dax raised his hands in surrender, sitting back in his chair as if nothing had happened.

“Y/N,” Fatima suddenly said, smiling over at her. “The UCAT’s not far away now, how’re you feeling?”

“It’s well over a month still.”

“Not that long,” Fatima said, waving Y/N’s comment off as she walked over to stand beside her. “How’s reading going?”

“Alright, I suppose. Got a lot of reading done yesterday and I suppose I’ll get some reading done later this evening as well.”

Fatima chuckled. “Did you bring your books here?”

Y/N felt her heart lurched out of her chest for a split second, almost giving her plans on leaving that evening away to Fatima. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to know where she was, it’d just be easier that way. To leave without a trace.

“No, I’m just anxious. Think I might pull an all-nighter just to be sure I feel satisfied.”

“Harry’ll do the same then,” Dax chimed in, sipping his beer. “He should, anyway.”

“Pull an all-nighter?” Amir asked, having joined the conversation without Y/N realising. “Why? Doesn’t he normally do that anyway?”

“Talking about me like I’m not here. I see how it is,” Harry said, taking a beer from Dax when he handed it to him.

“I’m very excited to see how this UCAT goes, Fatima said you’ve read quite a lot. Reckon you’ll bloody ace it,” Dax smiled. “Then we’ll have a proper dentist in our wee circle as well.”

“Has that ever been a goal of yours?” Jo asked, raising their eyebrows. “Mate, I worry sometimes. You don’t make sense.”

“I’m just excited, Jordan. Y/N’ll ace this UCAT, sod off to uni, and when she comes back, she’ll be a dentist. It’s wicked, innit?”

“That’ll be in six years, though,” Y/N reminded him.

“So?”

“It’s a long time, innit?”

“Well, as long as you don’t fuck off and leave us dentist-less then it doesn’t really matter, does it? You’ll be a dentist in our eyes no matter what.”

Y/N’s heart plummeted and she could see Harry’s jaw tensing in her peripheral vision. Again, Y/N could tell that Dax noticed something off about them. Amir started talking about something that Y/N couldn’t make out, her mind was focused entirely on the man beside her. Harry turned his head ever so slightly in her direction, lips parting as if to say something, but he slowly closed them as if thinking better of it. He turned forward again, eyes on Amir for a short second before he turned fully to look at Y/N. He opened his mouth once again, nothing came out, but after clearing his throat and scratching at his upper arm, he finally managed a, “Y/N.”

She glanced at him, hoping that no one was paying attention to them now.

“Can we…” He stopped, taking a deep breath as he lowered his voice and said, “Can I pull you for a chat?”

“Now, or…?”

“Yeah, you don’t mind?”

“No, I’m glad-“

“-The yearly summer film is about to go up in the barn!” yelled Jessa, clapping her hands together to gather everyone’s attention. “Harry will be playing the piano again shortly, to keep the light music going! But first, the film!” She retreated into the barn and most of the people outside followed her lead.

“Get in!” Dax said. “Let’s go, crew! I’m buzzing for this, always am!”

Everyone started walking toward the barn and Harry sighed, meeting Y/N’s eyes and about to nod towards the house when Amir wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He dragged both of them with him toward the barn, saying something about how they weren’t missing this.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked once they were seated by a table inside. Looking about her, all the lights in the barn were dimmed like last time and a projector was facing the far wall, a blurry picture displayed on the wooden surface. Y/N couldn’t make out what was supposed to be displayed.

“Harry hasn’t told you about the yearly summer films?” Ellie asked, furrowing her brows some.

“No, he… Not in detail,” Y/N answered, shrugging her shoulders slightly with a small smile on her lips, trying to play it off.

“It’ll be apparent when you just watch this,” Ellie explained, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder.

Looking across the table, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes, mouth open again as he rummaged through his brain for the correct thing to say in that moment.

“Y/N, you should know that I made this before-“

“-Shh, you fucking nonce,” Amir hissed, elbowing Harry in the ribs and making Harry let out a huff, clutching his side. The entire barn fell quiet a few seconds later and Jessa pressed a button, music booming softly from the speakers on either side of the projector. A film that looked a lot like the format of Harry’s Super 8 Camera, the same one he’d bring with him everywhere, started rolling before them. It was of Grace, Jessa, Harry’s aunts Abby, Rachel, and their kids, all at Porthmeor Beach, some of Harry’s small cousins ran around him and Grace did a little twirl with her swimming goggles on.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got this feeling that won’t subside,” the voice from the speakers sang as it switched to a film of Amir diving into a pool, Jo jumping on top of him when he resurfaced. “I look at you and a fantasise, you’re mine.”

Dax howled with laughter, giving Harry’s back a firm pat. “Ace, mate.”

Another clip of some of Harry’s family showed, and then, the one after that, just as the chorus hit, Y/N recognised. It was the kamayan at Porthmeor Beach. “With these hungry eyes.” And there she was, sitting beside Harry. She was looking down at the table in front of her while Harry talked to her, explaining what she was supposed to do. “One look at you and I can’t disguise, I’ve got hungry eyes.”

A clip of the whole gang minus Y/N came next, all of them at the lighthouse during a sunset. The entire sky looked to be on fire, the orange reflecting onto every single person and thing under it. Jo stuck their tongue out at Harry while Ellie waved enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around Jo from behind, making them smile. And Y/N forgot the clip that came after that because she was too caught up in the one that appeared as the second verse began.

“I want to hold you so hear me out.” She was sat in the windowsill in Harry’s cottage, reading for her UCAT exam. She hadn’t noticed him filming her, she looked to be concentrating hard on the books and notes in front of her, in her own world completely. When looking at herself like that, she remembered the exact feeling of sitting there. The soft wind blowing through the window, the seagulls outside, the smell of salt wafting into the cottage.

“I want to show you what love’s all about.” She was outside the cottage now, doing a few poses that made people laugh. After it, she ran across the field beyond the lighthouse, jumping around with the biggest beam on her face. She remembered that day clearly. She remembered applying for the UCAT and hugging Harry for the first time, how good it had felt to feel his arms tightly wrapped around her like that. How safe she had felt. How untouchable. How fearless.

As the film went on, more and more clips of Y/N popped up. Of them just chilling in the lighthouse, or walking in town, or of her laying outside the lighthouse reading out loud to him. Fatima laid her head on Y/N’s shoulder at one point, smiling at the movie that was spilling out in front of them. The gang, Harry’s family, the knitting ladies, and other people Y/N had no idea who were, all played a huge role in Harry’s film. Every single part of St Ives and this summer got a place in it, everything important to making this summer one of a kind.

Watching it unfold before her made Y/N tear up again. This had been the best summer of her life and she was about to leave it all behind; leave all these people behind. She’d never see any of them again, never experience a summer like this, never feel happiness or peace quite like this.

“Now did I take you by surprise, with my hungry eyes.” A clip of Y/N sitting in the lighthouse keeper office, looking over the numbers as she calculated the dew point. It was the morning after they admitted to their feelings for one another. The sunshine that sneaked in through the window hit her just right, and along with the effects of the camera, it made it almost look like her face was lighting up like a sort of holy entity. “I need you to see, this love was meant to be.”

The rest of the film was scattered with different clips from the entire summer. Y/N was in some of them, but they were mostly of other people. However, she had still noted how, as the film had worn on, her face had appeared more and more. Maybe it was because she felt a pang inside her every time she saw herself up there, but she instantly knew the moment and remembered everything about everything to perfect detail. It was hard to forget something that had made you feel more than anything else ever had. It sticks with you, till you draw your last breath.

The entire barn clapped as the film ended and Harry received multiple claps on the back, “well done”s, and smiles of acknowledgment. He sat there, nodding and smiling back, thanking those who told him how talented he was. Y/N could tell that he didn’t want praise, that he would’ve much rather shrunk into a tiny molecule and ran off. Everything so he wouldn’t be the centre of attention. And if the two were on speaking terms, she would’ve taken his hand after he’d gotten his fair share of compliments, and dragged him away like she knew he’d want her to. Not doing exactly that was hard, so Y/N got up and looked about the room for something to distract her.

“Y/N.”

It was the only voice that could’ve prevented her from running that next second. She glanced down at Harry as he got up from his seat.

“Chat?”

“Yeah, alright,” she answered. Harry met Y/N’s eyes again, nodding in the direction of the barn exit. Their friends started wolf whistling, nudging each other and Harry and Y/N.

“Right, lay off,” Harry hissed.

For some reason, Y/N would miss this also. She would miss the constant teasing, their friends wiggling their eyebrows or letting a small remark slip from between their lips. It was the sense of being comfortable enough to joke around with someone, to let your guard down and let them take the piss out of you for something minor. Would she ever find something like this again? Would she settle and let people in like she had with this lot?

“On your way back after your chat, bring me a can? And maybe some food?” Amir smiled up at Harry, trying to persuade him in some way that was lost on Y/N. “I fancy some lumpia.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Harry asked, almost smiling.

“Like what?”

“Like ‘chat’?” Harry raised his eyebrows and Amir shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m assuming it’s an important chat if you gotta drag her away from her festivities.”

“Who’s dragging who away from the festivities?”

Y/N could’ve done with not ever hearing her voice again. What bothered her the most about Emilia was that she didn’t really have any proof that she’d ever treated Harry like shite; Y/N just had her feeling. Her intuition told her so. One could only tell so much from someone’s past actions. Maybe she had gotten better, maybe she wanted to make up for everything she had done. But so far, Y/N doubted that had been Emilia’s intentions.

“Harry’s about to drag Y/N away from the barn so they can have a chat,” Ellie explained after a short pause where everyone had eyed Emilia upon her approach.

Emilia’s eyes fell on Y/N, then on Harry. Instinctively, Y/N walked over to stand beside Harry. She had no reason to, and she didn’t know if Harry really wanted her that close after everything, but something about Emilia looking at him like that made her somehow need to be close to him. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Y/N, biting his lips together before he glanced over at Emilia again, waiting for her to say something since she’d come over to their table after all.

“But I’m here now! The gang’s gonna hang out!” Emilia sat down in the only free chair around the table, the one Y/N had just vacated.

“Y/N and I really need to talk, we’ll be back.”

“Don’t be long, then,” Emilia smiled.

“We’ll take all the time we need, thank you.” Y/N noticed a few of the heads around the table turned to look at her after she said that. Dax’s eyes were round with shock, Jo’s lips were pursed, and Fatima was grinning where she sat beside Emilia. Even Harry noticed the tone in Y/N’s voice, the passive aggression, the fury. He got up from his seat, looking at Y/N as he pushed the chair to the table again.

“I only meant I wanted us all to be together now that summer’s coming to a close,” Emilia said, furrowing her brows and giving Y/N a smile as if she didn’t know why she was annoyed with Emilia.

“It’s fine, babe. Knew exactly what you meant. Keep my seat warm, will you?” Y/N gave the same smile back to Emilia before she turned her back on the table and started walking in the direction of the exit. She could hear Harry following close behind her, looking over his shoulder to give them all a little wave before they were outdoors again. It was dark now, the sunset that had been nearly over before they entered the barn was now long gone, leaving night in its stead. Y/N could feel a slight shift in the air, as if a storm was coming. Glancing up at the sky, she realised she didn’t see any stars, so it had to be cloudy.

Harry cleared his throat as he came to stand behind her. She slowly turned around, tuning out the few people that were still standing outside and conversing even though there were both food and more company inside the barn. It was quiet outside, much quieter than on would’ve thought given it was a party going on inside the barn. Then again, every time she had come out to the farm, it had always been a sort of peace hanging over the place. It was more peaceful here than anywhere else. The only place that was quieter than this, even with the harsh winds, was the lighthouse and the lightkeeper cottage.

She focused her attention on Harry as his mouth worked, finding the right words a moment later.

“Flower-“ Harry stopped himself instantly, shaking his head as if to remember that she wasn’t that to him anymore. “Y/N, I… I know… I know you’re leaving soon…” He trailed off, meeting her eyes. “I’m aware of that. But I think we need to talk. About everything that was said ‘cause… I don’t think you fully understand-“

“-If we’re just going to have the same conversation all over again, I don’t wanna do this,” Y/N warned him. “Both of us are too stubborn to ever find some sort of common ground.”

“No, I-“ Harry sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. “I don’t want us to find common ground, I just want to understand. I’m not going to try and change your mind- Of course, I’d be nice if you did, I don’t want you to fucking leave-“

“-Harry-“

“-Right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t help myself.” He took a small step back, giving her some more breathing space but keeping his voice low so she’d be the only one to hear him. “When’re you leaving, then?”

“Tonight.”

“T-Tonight?” Harry’s eyes grew wide, searching her face to see if this was some sort of joke. It seemed like he hadn’t taken her word for it last time when she told him she was leaving after the party.

She nodded her head.

“You’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes.”

“You-You can’t just leave like that.”

“Why not?”

“Well-“ Harry threw his arms out, searching frantically for words till he finally found them. “-Gracie’s gonna miss you.”

She sighed and just looked at him, watching as he let his arms rest at his sides, giving up whatever he was trying to achieve.

Though she was about to tell him he was being ridiculous, that they had to get back to everyone else indoors, she couldn’t help herself. Part of her wanted to confront him, to tell him how much his words had hurt those days before, how she wanted him to apologise to her for saying that about her. Comparing her to Emilia. But the other part of her, the one that won her over this time around, just wanted to spend a few insignificant significant moments with Harry. Where they didn’t talk, didn’t move, didn’t do anything outwardly important; just looked at each other, which seemed the most vital thing either of them would ever do. Though it wasn’t as major as their desperate moment in the car, it still had the same impact.

It seemed useless that their last few moments together were spent in silence, not doing what they really wanted to do because doing that wouldn’t be right on either of them, they knew that. Y/N wanted to tell him how spending a moment like this together, when they could be talking about everything that happened at the lighthouse, did not make sense. She wanted to lay it all on the table. But then-

“Y/N.”

Y/N and Harry both glanced over at Bessie who was walking over to her, glasses hanging from around her neck and a slightly concerned look on her face. At the sight of it, Y/N turned to face the older woman, taking her hand as she stood close enough.

“What’s up, Bess?”

Bessie brought her hand to her chest, the two lines between her eyebrows deepening. “My assistant called.”

Y/N’s heart plummeted, her entire body going cold. Bessie reached for her hand, bringing it between her two and squeezing it lightly, having sensed Y/N’s immediate panic. Bessie’s assistant receptionist calling her right now, and Bessie looking so worried about it, made Y/N believe there was only one thing that could’ve happened. Only the one thing Bessie would inform Y/N about. Y/N felt like running right that second. She didn’t want to be her anymore, not when they were so close. Not when everyone and everything she was trying to protect was all in one place.

She heard Harry take a small step forward, as if by doing so he’d understand what Bessie was talking about. “What’s happened, Bessie? Y/N-“

“-Harry!” Jessa called from the open barn door. “Harry, come play some piano for our guests!”

He inhaled hugely and let it out before glancing back at Jessa. “A moment.”

She gave him a look.

“Fine.” Looking back at Y/N, Harry’s jaw worked as he tried to find the right words to say next. “I… Please don’t leave yet.”

It was a hopeless thing to say, a hopeless thing to beg for, because she’d have to leave at some point regardless. Her departure would have the same effect if she left now or an hour later. But, to ease Harry’s nerves, she nodded her head, promising him this last thing. He nodded back, looking at her a second too long as he walked backwards toward the barn.

“Oh!” Jessa exclaimed, taking Harry’s hand before he had a chance to enter the barn. “Y/N, do you know what harana is?”

Y/N opened her mouth slowly, she tried to answer but her vocals wouldn’t work. Instead, Harry answered for her. “She doesn’t.”

Jessa grinned, waving Y/N over closer to her. Sharing a look with Bessie, Y/N walked over to Jessa, Bessie following close behind her as if she was ready to leave whenever Y/N was. As she reached the Filipina woman, Jessa took Y/N’s hand in hers and her beam widened.

“I think Harry should do one right now. You’ve been together for a while, but it’s never too late for a harana-“

“-Nanay,” Harry sighed, cheeks growing a little pink.

“Harana, hm?” lolo asked, grinning as he passed them on his way into the barn. “That’d be nice.”

“I-I’m not singing in front of everyone,” Harry hissed, wide eyes staring straight at Jessa.

“No, we’ll bend the rules a bit then.”

“What’s a harana?” Bessie asked, holding her phone in her hand now, standing close to Y/N.

“Harana is- well, it was a traditional form of courtship in the Philippines wherein men introduced themselves or wooed women by singing underneath their window. Unsurprisingly, it’s not as normal anymore, but it’s still practiced in some rural parts of the Philippines. The man is supposed to bear his heart to the woman, or vice versa in some cases, and hope that she loves him back,” Jessa grinned. “I know you two have already wooed each other, I know you have no reason to hope that Y/N loves you back, Harry, because you already know she does.” Harry’s eyes fell to his feet. “But wouldn’t it be nice? There are some traditions that shouldn’t die out, this is one of them.”

Y/N kept her eyes on Jessa. “So… So, if he’s not gonna sing…?”

“He’ll play the piano, of course. He’s got a few self-composted pieces of his own that he could try and woo you with.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, but he refused to meet her eyes. There was a slight awkwardness in the air around them now, one that had been caused by Jessa’s insistence on the harana. Y/N could tell Harry didn’t want to do one, could see him pressing his lips together and frantically looking for some kind of excuse not to do it. However, regardless how much Harry didn’t want to do the harana, Jessa always got her way. Especially with Harry. He could never reject her, no matter what.

“Fine,” he mumbled, and Jessa squealed, dragging both of them into the barn again. The piano stood in the corner of the room, music sheets from earlier already perch on top of it, ready to be used once again. Harry was thrown down onto the piano bench, furrowing his brows up at Jessa as his cheeks grew even redder.

“Everyone!” Jessa clapped her hands together again, making the majority of the room drop what they were doing in order to listen to their host for the evening. “Harry never got the chance to do a harana when he tried to seduce Y/N-“

“-Nay-“

“-So he’ll be doing that tonight! He won’t be singing, but he’ll serenade her in his own way!”

Grace ran toward them and sat down on the floor not too far away from the piano, grinning up at them as Y/N rested her arms on top of it, watching Harry as he tried to calm his raising nerves. The barn gave a small applause and Harry glanced up at Y/N, quickly averting his eyes again as if just looking at her made it all worse. He was acting as he had when they’d first met.

“I dunno what song to play,” he mumbled.

“The Y/N Song.”

Y/N looked over at Grace who was grinning at them, glancing from one to the other to see their reaction to her brilliant idea. She didn’t know if she wanted to break it to them that she’d heard said song before, when he played it in the living room before the karaoke night the week before.

“Yeah,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his face before he hovered his hands over the keyboard. “Yeah, suppose that seems fitting now.”

“You’ve written her a song?” Jessa asked, low enough so just the few of those seated closest to the piano could hear it. “You never write songs about people.”

Y/N furrowed her brows a little, the question out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop it, “Isn’t it about that day in St Austell?”

He looked up at her, eyes wide with terror as if she’d just told him his nudes had been leaked. He opened and closed his mouth, glancing over at Grace who didn’t say a single word.

“That’s what I’m saying, he’s never written a song dedicated to a person, only a memory,” Jessa said, leaning against the wall. “Let’s hear The Y/N Song, then.”

Harry bit his bottom lip as he focused his attention on the keys in front of him, taking a moment to breathe before he pressed down and started playing.

Y/N instantly realised this wasn’t the tune she’d heard him play in the living room that day. It wasn’t the tune that Grace had asked him to play her and Dax, when she had interrupted him every now and again, but he hadn’t once stopped playing. No, it wasn’t that one. This was another one.

The St Austell melody had been very slow and flowed easily from the keys, The Y/N Song was also that, but the keys were pressed down harder, creating an altogether more passionate and timeless piece. There was something inside the very being of this melody that crept up Y/N’s spine and settled in that space between her lungs. It wrapped itself around her beating heart with a lace-like touch, promising to take care of her and the thousands of memories that had been made during their time together. The promise of summer could be heard, light as a feather and leaping as a last hope, pledging to give something to hold onto at last. Vowing to them both to change their entire lives in the span of days, weeks, months.

It took a few moments till Harry managed to look up at Y/N where she stood leaning against the piano. The second their eyes met; the rest of the world disappeared completely around them. The melody played on, sounding as sweet, as abiding, as that summer had been. Every moment spent with Harry flashed before Y/N’s eyes. She saw their days spent in the grass outside the lighthouse, saw her reading to him, reading by herself, him playing the piano for her, or filming her. Saw the evenings spent on the beach, the times spent in loving arms, the moments spent laughing with people who wanted nothing more than to see her happy. But most of all, she saw Harry. Just Harry. Felt him, smelled him, consumed him. She would cling to those moments for the rest of her life, she knew that. A heart beats out of love for the being in which it belongs, it loves its owner enough to keep them alive, and Y/N knew, with every piece of hers, that it was beating to the same rhythm, made out of the same stardust, as Harry’s was.

The song was over before she knew it, and suddenly the entire barn erupted into applause. Y/N blinked a few times, looking out over the people who were hooting and clapping and grinning at them. Harry seemed to be just as taken aback, letting out a breathy chuckle as he watched Y/N, not having taken his eyes off her since he first glanced up at her. Y/N suddenly realised that the reason why she’d heard that melody before was because Grace had been singing it. First when they picked flowers after Harry’s and Y/N’s night in the lighthouse, and also during their picnic. She was sure she’d heard it other times as well, but… had Harry played her that song? Had Harry written that melody and told Grace what it was inspired by, making the little girl refer to it as The Y/N Song?

Tim walked up to the piano, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder before he wrapped an arm around Harry’s, grinning at the both of them.

“You’d think the two of you were getting married,” he said, nodding his head out at the people who had just stopped clapping. “To think this all started last summer in Newquay, seems like you’ve been together for ages.”

Harry only smiled at Tim before he glanced back at Y/N, looking like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted.

“Nothing like a ‘lads only’ trip to find the girl of your dreams, ey? Dax,” Tim shouted, looking in the direction of the table of Harry’s and Y/N’s friend group. “Good job on not taking the piss when he started talking to Y/N on that beach! We wouldn’t be here!”

Dax cocked his head a little to the side, clearly confused. At that second, Y/N felt her heart stop beating entirely. With wide eyes, she looked at Harry who had the same expression on his face. He quickly tried to collect himself, getting up from the piano stool.

“Right, uncle Tim, should we go get you some water?”

Tim frowned at Harry, studying him for a few moments before he said, “I’m not plastered, Haz.”

“I know, but let’s go get you something to drink-“

“-Hang on, hang on.” Dax had walked up to the piano, holding his hand up as to stop whatever conversation was already going on. “What do you mean, Timmy?”

“Mean by what?”

“What you just said? What you mean by that?”

Harry tried to walk with Tim past the piano, giving both him and Dax a smile Y/N knew would give him away if either of the men studied him long enough. “It’s nothing, let’s-“

“-No, I know I took the piss out of you a little bit when you started talking to Emilia ‘cause you were such a goner, but I deliberately did not do that when Y/N came around St Ives ‘cause I knew you didn’t appreciate it,” Dax said, two deep lines between his brows. “I didn’t even meet Y/N till after you two had gone on that trip to Newquay. So, where’s this all coming from, then?”

“What’s going on here, lads?” Amir asked, the rest of the gang following after him. Y/N noticed how there were quite a bit of people watching this unfold. Her chest hurt with how hard her heart was beating. She looked over at Harry who was looking right back at her, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something believable to say.

“What…” Tim said, removing his hand from where it rested on Harry’s shoulders. “But you… What?”

“I’m gonna take uncle Tim to the house,” Harry chimed in, trying his best to sound unbothered, but Y/N could hear it in his voice that he was anything but.

“No, H, I’m not drunk.”

“But we can still go inside, can’t we?”

Dax held up a hand again. “No, I want to know what uncle Timmy meant by what he said. How could I take the piss out of you when you started talking to Y/N, if I wasn’t even there when it happened?”

Tim looked at Harry for a few seconds, then at Y/N, tilting his head to the side as he tried to figure out what was going on. It seemed this was a lot for the older man to handle, stumbling a bit over his words as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“It’s alright, I’m sure uncle Tim meant nothing by it, Dax.”

“Meant nothing by what?” Tim took a step away from Harry, studying his face for a few beats before he looked back at Dax. “What is going on?”

“You tell me, Timmy.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry assured the both of them. “We don’t have to talk about Newquay. We’re here, a year later, Y/N’s…” But Harry trailed off, looking over at Y/N who had not said a single word since everything had gone down. She wanted to but she was unsure of how much she could say without making everything worse.

“Let’s talk about Newquay, Hazza, ‘cause it’s something I’ve been thinking quite a bit about, yeah?” Dax said, cocking his head to the side as he spoke. Y/N noticed Jessa making her way over, Grace looking up at everything happening like she had no idea what was going on. “Let’s talk about your trip to Newquay with uncle Timmy, ‘cause I cannot for the life of me remember you ever going to Newquay last summer.”

“With-“ Tim erupted, looking at Harry with narrowed eyes. “When did we-“

“-Dax, why do you-“

“-No,” Dax interrupted Harry. “I first found it sus that you hadn’t told me about your girlfriend, especially when you two had been talking for so long. For an entire year, and you didn’t tell me. I’ve known you my entire life, Haz, you would’ve told me right away.”

“What are you trying to say, Dax? Bloody spit it out, then,” Harry said, not caring as he usually did that Grace could hear him. “Go on. Say it.”

“It doesn’t add up, you have to admit that.”

“Didn’t you go up to Newquay on a lads trip, H?” Tim asked, studying some more like he had done this whole time. “We’ve… We’ve never gone to Newquay together.”

Harry and Y/N looked at each other, and it was as if they both knew at the very same time, that there was no point anymore. There was no way of getting out of this one when they had been reckless enough early on to tell two different lies. They had never thought it’d get this far, nor that their “first meeting” would be brought up in front of the few people they had told different stories to. However, their time was up, and there was no reason to hide it anymore.

“Right, uhm…” Harry’s eyes fell to the ground, taking a few moments to gather himself before he said. “Y/N and I didn’t meet last summer.”

Everyone was quiet for a few moments before Amir uttered a low, “What the fuck?”

“We met this summer. In June.”

Again, silence, however this time it was much heavier than the one time before. Everyone stared at Harry and Y/N in turn, not knowing what to think or to even believe this. Maybe they had done a fairly decent job of being a believable couple after all. Towards the end, Y/N didn’t even have to act.

“Harry, you’ve said you’ve had a girlfriend for quite some time now. Did you-“ Jessa shook her head, unable to wrap her head around this. Y/N felt the worst about the fact that she had to lie to Jessa, the kindest soul she had ever met. “Did you lie about that?”

Harry nodded.

“Why?”

“You were always so worried about me being by myself in the lighthouse. I was never lonely, b-but to get you off my back I told you I had a girlfriend just so you’d stop worrying.”

“I’d much rather you have told me the truth and let me worry than lying to me like this.”

Y/N could see the shame on Harry’s face and Y/N felt the same, balling her hands into fists as Jessa looked over at Y/N.

“Did you two plan this all along? What do you gain from pretending to be a couple like this?” Jessa asked.

“Nothi-“ But Harry cut himself off, realising that saying what he was about to say would be another lie. He had gained something from all of this. “I didn’t recognise her face when I first saw her. We thought it would be fun-“

“-Fun?!” Jessa exclaimed. “You thought lying to everyone would be fun?!”

“Nanay, we didn’t have any plans all summer-“

“-What’ll happen now then? Now that everyone knows? Will you continue to pretend?”

Harry looked over at Y/N, mouth opening slowly as if he wanted to say something. He was also about to when he heard a small voice speak first.

“But… But you wrote Y/N a song. You wrote Y/N The Y/N Song. And you kissed each other. Was that a lie too?”

Harry furrowed his brows a little, looking up at Y/N. “Nothing’s… Nothing’s actually been… Not really. Not for me.”

Y/N took a deep breath, speaking as she realised Harry was turning his body in her direction to speak to her directly. “I’m so sorry for all of this. We never meant to hurt anyone.”

“You haven’t hurt us, Y/N,” Fatima said, and Y/N’s heart sunk a little. She felt sick to her stomach at the mere thought of ever having lied to any of these people in front of her. People that had given her a piece of their heart, and she had given some of hers in turn, only to lie to them this whole time. “You haven’t hurt us, but we’re really…” Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t even bloody know. I would never have thought this.”

“Me neither,” Jo said, furrowing their brows as they looked between Harry and Y/N. “You two sure you’re not a serious couple?”

“Yes,” both of them answered at the same time, but maybe a little too quickly for Jo or many of the others to believe them.

“I can’t believe this,” Dax said, shaking his head. “I genuinely cannot believe you two have been faking it this whole fucking time.”

“Well…” Y/N started, making everyone look over at her, but she didn’t really know what to say. “That’s…” She glanced at Harry. “I…”

“I know,” Harry said, his voice almost a whisper. “I know, Y/N.”

“Hold on now,” Dax said. “I’d like to know when this all started.”

Ignoring Dax, Harry said, “Y/N, I-“ but he stopped himself, about to walk toward her but not knowing if it would be alright with her. “Y/N, I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I… I don’t think that way about you. You know I’d never-“

“-Y/N.” Bessie’s voice made Harry shut right up, and Y/N was glad it had. When she turned to face the older woman, she saw a pair of wide eyes and a look on her face that had never been there before, but Y/N knew what it meant right away. She looked back at Harry, opening her mouth as if to say she was sorry, but when Bessie repeated her name, she stopped herself. Instead, she turned on her heels and walked over to Bessie. The older woman took her hand and the two of them started walking in the direction of the exit. Once outside in the dark of night, Y/N suddenly felt the full effect of what was about to happen. Her parents. Dominic.

She heard someone call her name behind her, and though every fibre of her being begged her to turn around and look at Harry one last time, she could not do it. Bessie walked for the driver seat just as a pair of headlights came down the path to the farm. Y/N stilled completely.

“Bessie,” she said, stopping at the rear of the car.

Bessie looked up at the car and quickly started fumbling with her keys again. Y/N knew it was over just then. The white headlights, the black BMW, the massive engine. She knew that rumble of power anywhere she went, she’d recognise it till the day she died. She heard Bessie call her name, knew that she was starting up the car, but Y/N knew that no matter what, it would be too late. They were here. They were where they weren’t supposed to be. They had arrived where they weren’t supposed to.

Y/N walked toward the BMW as the lights were turned off. There was even more shouting behind her, Bessie turned her car off again. The driver seat door to the BMW opened, and Y/N felt nothing as she saw her father step outside. The same grey hair, same tall body, broad shoulders, and stern face and dressed in the most expensive clothes imaginable. She could recognise him right about anywhere. The second their eyes met, he nodded toward the backseat and Y/N halted. She might’ve realised that it was all over, but it hadn’t dawned on her what that would mean. Everything she had built in St Ives, the UCAT, her confidence and openness, it would all disappear the second she sat down in that car and came with them.

“No!”

She looked over her shoulder at where Harry was rushing towards them, fire in his eyes and hands balled into fists. Dread filled her at the thought of Harry being close to her family, to her father and Dominic – again.

“Harry,” she said, trying to warn him. “Harry, stop.”

“You’re not fucking taking her,” Harry said as he came to stand in front of the car. “You’re not.”

“Who is this?” Mr McKay asked, looking at Harry with such indifference it sent a chill up Y/N’s spine.

“Harry,” Harry said. “Like she just said.”

Harry’s tone was not appreciated by Y/N’s father and she instantly started shaking her head, begging Harry to just shut up. Another car door opened, and Dominic came out, looking over at where Y/N and Harry stood right in front of the car. He slowly started walking over to them, mouth set in a thin line as he eyed Harry up and down.

“No respects for your elders, lighthouse keeper?” Dominic asked, and though this would’ve normally had Harry cowering, but the man who stood beside Y/N now straightened his back and glared at Dominic as he came closer.

“No respect for twats, if that’s what you mean.”

Dominic halted a little and Y/N’s father visibly reacted to Harry’s words, neither of them believing what they just heard.

“Y/N, I hope you haven’t taken to learn from this scum while you’ve been here,” Dom said, looking between the two with dark eyes.

“I’ve taught her a couple of things, alright. Don’t think you’d quite appreciate hearing about those, though, especially not here-“ But Harry had barely gotten that last word out before Dominic was right in front of him, a grip of his tee shirt and slamming him right into Harry’s yellow van that stood right beside them. Harry groaned slightly at the impact, but quickly took a hold of Dominic’s shoulders, pushing him off him.

“Dominic,” Mr McKay warned. “Compose yourself.”

Dominic did not budge, though. He stood in front of Harry, daring Harry to do something or provoke him again.

“We are not here to take care of a low-life lighthouse keeper,” Mr McKay said. “Y/N, get in the car.”

“No,” Harry said, Dominic taking a step closer to him as to dare him to speak again. Harry did not seem scared in the slightest.

“Y/N.” The sound of her mother’s voice made Y/N stop breathing for a short second. She looked to the passenger side door, saw her mother there, and felt her hands start to tremble. The face that used to be so warm but turned stone-cold with the passing years, the eyes she used to look into every single day. A range of emotions ran through her, all of them conflicting and Y/N forgot herself completely in that moment. She forgot where she was, forgot who she was, forgot what was happening; all she cared about was the sound of her mother’s voice. It was as if she was four again, hearing her mother calling her name in a park, hearing her laughter, feeling her embrace.

“No!” Harry shouted, and Y/N didn’t notice till then that she had started walking towards the car, towards her mother. “You don’t get to take her away from us. She belongs here. This is her home.”

“Home?” Mr McKay asked, eyebrows raised in a sort of amused way, as if he didn’t believe a word of what Harry just said.

“Don’t talk to her,” Dominic said to Harry. “Don’t fucking look at her.”

Harry pushed Dominic further away from him, trying to get past him to Y/N. Y/N noticed then that Harry’s hands were shaking.

“Please, flower-“

Harry was cut short as Dominic took a grip of his tee shirt, dragging him backwards and away from Y/N. He fell back onto the ground, coughing and loosening the tee shirt from around his throat.

“Don’t touch him!” Y/N shouted. Instinctively, Y/N started for Harry, but Dominic stepped in her way, looking at her with that same indifferent glare that he had always held. She looked down at Harry where he coughed, getting up into a sitting position, sweat beading at his hairline. She saw him blinking hard a few times, as if he was dizzy and trying to focus. She didn’t even think before she tried to reach for him again, wanting to check if he was alright, to help him up, but she was stopped by Dom stepping in front of Harry as he struggled upright.

“Get in the car.” Y/N’s father’s voice was so demanding, so cruel, that Y/N couldn’t do anything but obey. She walked past her mother, not giving her a single glance or piece of her time. She heard someone repeating her name, saw others standing by the gate to the farm watching everything go down, afraid to move closer. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she opened the car door and got inside. The rest of them got in as well, and, before she knew it, they were driving off. Once again, she heard someone shouting her name, but she didn’t want to look over her shoulder and through the back window, afraid of seeing someone she cared about, afraid she would cry.

There she was. Right where she had dreaded this whole time she’d be. Not only was she now with her parents and Dom, but she was also in a car. It was almost impossible to escape. They had her where they wanted her to be. Nothing could be worse than this.

“Quite stupid of you to make us come all this way to get you,” her father said, making her cringe where she sat in the backseat. She could feel Dominic watching her. “What did you plan on achieving in bleeding Cornwall?”

“Nothing,” Dominic answered for her. “She clearly needs help. Maybe she should talk to someone when she gets home. There is clearly something wrong.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Dominic,” Mr McKay said. “You will look into that, won’t you, darling?” He looked to his left at Y/N’s mother who nodded her head slowly.

“Of course.”

“Maybe it is the fact that she has yet to move out of your house. I will arrange for us to move into a flat in London,” Dominic continued, getting his phone out.

“A building with a doorman, preferably in Central so everything’s comfortably close,” Mr McKay went on.

“Exactly, nothing but the best,” Dominic assured him, looking through some listings online. “What do you think of this one in Mayfair, Y/N?” He pushed his phone in her face, making her wince at the brightness in contrast to the darkness of the car.

“It’s nice.”

“Just nice? That’s a few million pounds of nice.”

“I don’t want to look at flats.”

Dominic stilled, taking the phone away from her and looking at her with narrowed eyes. She didn’t look back, instead kept her eyes steadily on the road ahead. It was clear the both of her parents in the front of the car had heard this as well, tensing up the second the words had left her lips.

“Why is that?”

“’Cause I’m not moving in with you, Dom.”

She could tell that Dominic strained himself from being violent. His hands worked against the leather seats, and he turned his phone off before putting it away again.

“Yes, you are, Y/N.”

“No.”

“We talked about this; you’re just confused.”

“I’m not confused, I’ve never been more sure about something in my life,” Y/N said. “I don’t love you. I will never love you.”

Silence settled in the car again and a slight breath left Dominic’s lips as he shook his head once, who was in total disbelief. “Is this something that lighthouse keeper has drilled into your brain?”

“He hasn’t drilled anything into my brain. If anyone’s made me aware of the fact that I can’t ever love you, it’s you.”

Dominic’s hand slammed against the car seat between them and he looked at her with such fury that, for the first time, Y/N was scared of what he would do to her. She looked over at him, trying to give off that completely indifferent look that he often had given her.

Yes, Y/N realised as she sat in that car, surrounded by the three people that had made her feel like pure shite her entire life; yes, she was exactly where she had dreaded to be this entire time. Yes, the entire summer she had been scared of being in this exact spot, because if she did find herself here, then it was all over. If she were here, she would have to go back to how things used to be. But she didn’t have to. These were people who actually loved her, in all their different ways, and they would never lay a hand on her. They would never hurt her. She had to choose her words carefully, be adamant, and maybe they would understand where she was coming from. Her mother used to try to do that, at least. She just had to speak their language, act like them, and maybe they would begin to respect her.

“I’m not coming back to Hampshire.”

Dominic just stared at her for the longest time. “Yes, you are.”

“No.”

“Yes, Y/N!”

Mr McKay held up his hand to silence the two in the back. “We need to talk about your grandfather’s business, Y/N. The one I’ve been running for the last few years. Dominic will take over after me, but your mother’s said, and I agree, you should know a few of the logistics-“

“-I’m not going back,” Y/N repeated, heart pounding as she stood up for herself. She had no idea where this was going or if they’d even listen to her, but she’d try. “Did you know,” Y/N started, sitting up a little straighter in her seat as she looked at each one in the car. “That I applied for the UCAT exam? I’m taking it in September.”

“What’s that?” Dominic asked.

“The exam you have to take in order to be accepted into medical school, and in my case, dentistry.”

The entire car fell silent, none of them really knowing what to say to that. This was exactly what her parents had told her not to do all those years ago, and yet here she was, about to do it.

“You’re not taking that exam, Y/N,” Mr McKay said, voice as firm as always.

“Yes, I am. I’ve signed up, I’ve been studying, I’m doing it.”

Dominic sighed. “We have had this chat multiple times, I’ll provide for us.”

“You’re not providing for us ‘cause I’m not going to fucking move in with you!” Y/N’s shout made her father push down on the break for a short time, shocked by her outburst. Y/N was even a little shocked herself. But very proud all the same. “This has been my dream-“

She stopped talking as she felt something vibrating in her purse. There weren’t many who had her number, and the only ones that would call now were those in St Ives. Taking her phone out, she saw Jessa’s name on her screen, and she forgot completely where she was. Jessa was calling her. Jessa… Without thinking, she answered the call, shocking even herself.

“Jessa?”

“Y/N.” That wasn’t Jessa’s voice.

“Gracie,” Y/N breathed. “What’re you- Why’re you calling?”

“Nanay, lolo, and uncle Timmy are driving people home.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Y/N, get off the phone, we need to talk about-“

“-Shut up, Dominic. Grace, why’re you calling? Why do you have Jessa’s phone?”

“She left it at home,” Grace said, taking a slight pause before she said after a sob. “And Harry’s not feeling well.”

Y/N’s heart plummeted so fast she felt dizzy. “What do you mean?”

“He fell over in the living room. He won’t answer me.”

Y/N didn’t know how to breathe. Nothing in that car mattered in those next seconds. Harry wasn’t feeling well, and by the sounds of it, he had fainted. Had the fall he’d taken outside really giving him a concussion of sorts?

“Did he hit his head?”

“I dunno. His eyes are open, he’s looking up at me.”

“Okay, keep him like that, I’ll be there soon.” With that Y/N hung up and put her phone away again. “You need to let me off.”

“What, no!” Dominic exclaimed. “You’re not going back there!”

“He needs my help!”

“Who? That fucking-“

“-Yes! The fucking lighthouse keeper needs my help! Now, let me off!” She took her seatbelt off, looking at her father in the front seat. “Dad.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Y/N, you’re coming with us. Hampshire is where you belong.”

“It’s not.” She placed her hand on the door handle, waiting for him to slow down as he was about to turn down another street. “Let me go.”

“Stop being so childish.”

Y/N watched him slow down some more till she knew it wouldn’t be too dangerous. “Don’t follow me.”

“What-“

Y/N opened the car door and jumped out as her father slowed the car some. She heard her mother screaming in the car, Dominic shouting her name and the tires screeching. She rolled, feeling a sharp pain in her elbow and knee as they both had been the first to hit the asphalt. At one point, her head had come into contact with the concrete ground as well, but it had not been hard enough to make her dizzy. She coughed as the wind knocked out of her and her elbow knee hurt, maybe even bled, but she did not care at that moment. She got up and started running in the direction they had just driven, running faster than she ever had before. The pain of the fall, her bleeding knee, none of it mattered as she sprinted back to the farm. She didn’t hear the car behind her, didn’t hear her parents or Dom. Maybe they had listened to her. Maybe they realised that after everything, after what she’d just told them, she could not stay with them any longer. She was needed at the farm. Harry needed her help.

Time ceased to exist as Y/N sprinted onto the farm, seeing lights from all around the property that had yet to be turned off because of the abrupt ending. As she finally slowed down a bit, allowing herself to concentrate on her surroundings, she felt herself limping ever so slightly. Her head also hurt an awful lot, but that was the least of her concerns at that very second. The farm was eerily quiet in contrast to how high the volume had been earlier. Not a single soul stood outside, no sounds from inside the barn or the main house. It looked abandoned, which Y/N realised, it kind of was.

“Grace?!” Y/N shouted, throwing the gate open and jogging onto the property. “Gracie, where are you?!”

“Y/N!” Grace stood by the open door into the house, and as she saw Y/N running toward her, she ran back inside as well. Y/N reached the familiar house and looked left and right for Grace, only to find her sitting on the living room floor.

Out of everything Y/N had ever witnessed in her life, the sight before her was by far the worst. There was no blood, no sign of any sort of struggle or crime, but this sight made her so worried she felt like throwing up. Harry was laying on the living room floor, eyes hooded and looking at Grace who sat beside him. It didn’t look like he was able to move his head or any part of his body, his eyes only following the movement of what was happening around him. Y/N instantly knew what had happened.

“Harry,” she said, unable to control herself. She threw herself down beside him, taking his face in her hands. “Harry, can you hear me?”

He only looked at her, eyelids hanging low over his eyes and a thick layer of sweat coated over his entire body, especially visible over his cupid’s bow and hairline. With shaking hands and worry that made her dizzy, she tried to think of what to do. She instantly checked his pockets for his phone, in the end having to search through his back pockets where she fished it out at last. She unlocked it using his thumb and told herself not to focus on the fact that he had now changed his wallpaper to a picture of Y/N and Grace picking flowers. That could wait for another time. She could not cry now.

She clicked on the diabetes app, and, as she had seen him do multiple times before, she held it up to the signal patch on his upper arm. It made a sound as if it had registered, and when Y/N looked on his phone, the screen was lighting up red, showing 1,2. The optimal blood sugar levels would be anywhere between 4-7 mmol. This was dangerously low.

“Gracie, just talk to Harry, yeah? I’ll go get him something to eat. He needs to eat.” Y/N was off the floor the next second, sprinting back to the kitchen where she reached for the drawer she remembered Harry getting some chocolate from during Grace’s birthday back in June. There was only one chocolate bar left. She had no idea how much chocolate Harry would need. She took the Dairy Milk and ran back to the living room.

“Harry won’t answer me,” Grace said, her bottom lip wobbling. “What is happening to him, Y/N?”

“He’ll be fine, love.” Y/N tried to give Grace a reassuring smile, but by the look on the little girl’s face, it had not convinced her.

Y/N sat back down on the floor next to Harry, placing his head in her lap and making sure his neck wasn’t bent at an awkward angle so the chocolate would flow easily through his system. His eyes were on her face again, but she could tell he couldn’t focus on her. She wasn’t entirely sure if he even knew what was going on. He was heavy, unable to move a single muscle, laying as still as if he’d been placed in a coma. Y/N ripped the chocolate bar open and took a single square first, opening his mouth ever so slightly and smearing it on the inside of Harry’s lips.

“There we go,” she mumbled, stroking his cheek as she continued to run the chocolate over the tip of his tongue and lips. “Come on, baby.”

“What’s going on with him, Y/N?”

“Hypoglycaemia. His blood sugar is very low. You do know Harry’s a diabetic, yeah?”

Grace nodded her head.

“When his blood sugar gets very low and he goes unconscious like this, you can smear some chocolate on the inside of his lips and he’ll slowly start to wake up.” Y/N did not add the fact that if this did not work, they’d have to call 999. She felt Harry’s tongue move against the chocolate square that was slowly starting to melt away. “Since his blood sugar is so low, we need to get it to rise a little bit, and the sugar from the chocolate will help with that. At least till he is conscious again.”

As she felt his jaw begin to work ever so slightly, she took a hold of his shoulders, and, with all the strength she mustered, she brought him up and into a somewhat sitting position against one of the sofas. There she left the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth, watching him while he chewed on it. He kept his eyes closed as he chewed, a drop of sweat rolling down his face as he finally swallowed. She brought him another one, smearing some of it on the inside of his lips till he slowly started to react and chew himself.

While he did that, Y/N got Harry’s phone out, signing into it again to check if there was any sort of change to his blood sugar. That’s when she noticed it. All blood drained from her body at the sight. The clock was 1:55am. Though part of her questioned why Grace was awake, the other part of her travelled to the lighthouse. Quickly, she brought the phone up to the patch again and checked. There was not a huge difference, but Y/N reckoned that as long as he was chewing himself and slowly getting more present, the blood sugar would rise with him.

Though it was Harry’s phone and though she could’ve easily fished out her own, she found Dax’s contact and pressed it, making sure Harry was doing alright and eating chocolate as she called.

“Haz?”

“Dax, it’s Y/N.”

There was a slight pause on the other end before Dax said, “Something happened?”

“Harry’s blood sugar is low; he’s gone into shock. Can you come here now and look after him and Grace while I go do the weather report at the lighthouse?”

Another pause, but now she heard deliberate movement on the other line. “Did you give him the glucagon injection?”

“No, I forgot to check if they had one.”

“You’ve got him eating summat, yeah? He’s not just unconscious?”

“Chocolate.”

“Alright,” Dax said, Y/N could hear the bang of a door on the other end. “I’ll be there in two.”

While they waited for Dax, Y/N made sure Harry was eating, checking his blood sugar just before Harry’s best friend arrived. When Y/N heard the car door slamming outside, she instantly got up from the floor, making sure Harry could eat on his own now before she met Dax in the foyer. Y/N made sure Grace was on her way to bed as Dax walked straight for the living room to sit next to Harry.

“Where’s Jessa?” Dax asked, looking about him as Y/N came over again, looking through the pockets of Harry’s denim shorts.

“Gracie said she was driving some people home.” Y/N got Harry’s car keys, her heart hammering fast as she realised what she was about to do. “She’ll be back soon, but I need to leave.”

When Y/N met Dax’s eyes, she saw a slight tinge of worry in them, and Y/N knew exactly what he was going through. It wasn’t only Harry he was worried about, but the fact that Y/N was going to the lighthouse to do a job that was not hers was beyond both of them. She focused her attention back on Harry, the sweat on his forehead had been there since she had arrived earlier. He was getting better. So, she reached up, swiping her thumb along his hairline and cheek, letting go of a shaky sigh. She did not know what would happen after tonight, but for the time being, she would do what he was incapable to. Now that a lot was happening all at once; now that the world was getting a bit too heavy to carry all by himself, she would carry his burdens for him.

Getting up, she walked back to the foyer and through the door, jogging for Harry’s yellow van. She swore she could hear someone saying her name as she left, but she did not turn around to see who. Once she was inside the van, she got the engine to start, and then drove off down the gravel path toward the main road. She drove as fast as she could, her heart galloping inside her chest as nerves started creeping closer. Everything that had happened earlier that night was catching up with her, and though she had no idea what any of it meant, she still felt the effect of it. The revelations in the barn, the song Harry had written for her, her parents showing up, Harry and Dominic, everything in the car, Harry’s shock, and now this.

She was shaking by the time she reached the lighthouse. She knew she would need more time to do her report, but she had no choice. She ran for the Stevenson Screen, not bothering to check the rain gauge as she knew there hadn’t been raining anything in days. She wrote the four different temperatures down on her phone so she would remember all of them correctly, and once that was done, she reset the minimum and maximum temperatures as Harry had shown her. Tip the minimum one vertically and shake the maximum one. That done, she racked her brain for what to do next, and remembered right away.

Looking up at the sky, she tried to make out any of the stars overhead, trying to determine if it was partly cloudy or cloudy. Determining that it was cloudy, she ran to the lighthouse. She remembered Harry telling her that the 3am report wasn’t a very detailed one compared to all the other ones, this was just the local weather. She didn’t have to take the supplemental and climate report into account on this one. Sprinting up the metal staircase, she threw herself down into the chair she had seen Harry in a few times this summer, looking at the clock on the wall that told her she had a mere five minutes left.

She quickly started to panic, but told herself to calm down. She was doing this for Harry. She could not fuck it up. If she did, she didn’t know what would happen, and that scared her more than anything else that had happened that night. And with that, she started writing down the different temperatures, whispering under her breath to make sure she got none of them wrong. Once the dew point was accounted for, she tried to remember the correct way to say all of it in.

“Clodgy is cloudy, 15, calm, and…” Y/N furrowed her brows, looking over the different terminology. She could not get this wrong. She just could not.

“Good morning. Lighthouse weather report Cornwall. Trevose.”

Y/N whimpered at the sound of the static, looking at the posters right before her and studying each one of them. She had to find the word she was looking for. She had to. What would she do if she couldn’t find it?

“Trevose is partly cloudy-“

“Fuck,” Y/N hissed under her breath, aware that the more she was stressing over this, the more she panicked, the less she would be able to concentrate on actually finding the word she was thinking of. She had heard Harry say it. It was just right there, at the tip of her tongue.

“Clodgy.”

Y/N’s hands were so clammy that she struggled holding the phone properly in her hand. Clearing her throat, heart beating out of her chest, she looked down at the paper before her. And there she saw it. Just as the weather had been the night before. The word she’d been looking for.

“Good morning,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she knew it was. “Clodgy is cloudy, 15, calm, and rippled.”

“Thank you. Pendeen.”

“Good morning. Pendeen is cloudy-“

But Y/N didn’t manage to listen to much else of the other reports because the second she put the phone back, she let out a long and heavy breath. Hiding her face in her hands, she slowly calmed down, telling herself that it was over. The worst was over. She had tons of time to wait and gather all the correct numbers and terminology for the 6am report. She wrote down the things she remembered and heard from the other lighthouse keepers, and once it was all done, she just sat there for a minute, thinking about everything and thinking about nothing.

Slowly, she got up, feeling absolutely drained of energy, and slowly walked upstairs to the bedroom where her and Harry had slept last week. Upon entering, she felt a rush of memories wash over her, overwhelming her in maybe the worst and the best way imaginable. She sat down on the bed, thinking to herself that she had no idea what would happen now. Did she leave? Did she stay? Would she have to contact her parents to talk about everything? Did Harry want to talk to her again? She did not know, but night had many hours, and it had only just begun.

About to lay her purse down on the desk beside the bed so she could get a small hour of sleep – that she secretly knew she would not be getting – she realised she put her belongings down on something that was already laying there, and had in the process of this, managed to pull it off the desk. It hit the floor with a thud, making Y/N jump. She put her purse a bit further away and it was not till she drew her hand back that she realised it was a book. A book. On his desk. In this room. But… Harry did not read. He had said as much himself.

She got up from the bed again and picked it up, her breath stolen completely away from her as she turned it around. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.

“What’s your absolute favourite and least favourite book?”

She looked at him. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

Y/N inhaled, bringing her hand to her chin as she narrowed her eyes in thought. “My favourite has got to be Uses of the Erotic by Audre Lorde, and my least favourite is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Though, Uses of the Erotic is an essay, really, but it’s the most profound text I’ve ever read.”

Her eyes began to sting at the memory, the beginning of summer seeming so incredibly far away yet also feeling like yesterday. Memories that felt raw, new, but also like you had held onto them for years, were the ones that meant the most to you, Y/N realised. The moments in your life that were so profound that they just stuck with you, no matter how much time passed, and you’d still remember them with perfect precision.

Turning around, she looked at the shelf behind her, seeing a few other books there, one of them being the essay collection of Audre Lorde that contained Uses of the Erotic. With it was a collection of other books, all with the same author. Virginia Woolf.

“You never told me who your favourite author is.”

Y/N met his eyes and, for the first time since she woke up, actually registered what Harry was saying. “Virginia Woolf.”

Harry smiled a little, his dimples showing. His right one was a little more prominent, Y/N realised. “So, her.” He nodded down at the book in Y/N’s lap. “What’s so good about her? Is that your favourite of hers?”

Y/N smiled a little at the questions, looking down at the book before meeting Harry’s eyes again. “Think Mrs Dalloway-“ Y/N showed Harry the cover to tell him that was the book she was reading right now. “Might be my favourite, yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s just so-“ Y/N stopped herself, looking at Harry for a few seconds before shaking her head and chuckling some. “I won’t bore you with book talk again.”

Harry smiled. “I don’t mind.”

Y/N could not hold back her tears this time, quickly wiping away the few that had made it down to her jaw. Why he had bought all these books when she owned them all, when she had read them all, when he didn’t even like to read, she had no idea. Right that second, she could neither draw any coherent conclusion nor find it in herself to want one. She just sat down in the chair by the desk in the lightkeeper bedroom, looking at the book in her hand and the other ones he kept on the shelf, all inside a room he refused to allow anyone entrance to. Another tear rolled down her cheek, she didn’t bother to wipe this one away.

LAST UPDATE: Sunday, 22 November, 9PM GMT! 🤧

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[wexhappyxfew]

—— 1 year anniversary to Landslide [BOB FIC]

Wow! 1 year! I can’t even believe that just last year, I was sat in a lake house, in the late hours of the night, trying to figure out what idea was going to be my next for another Band of Brothers story! I remember the moment and where I had been sitting when the idea hit and looking back, I’m so glad it hit when it did. Landslide is far from that little idea I got in that lake house, but has continually developed, grown and changed in ways I look back and can’t even begin to think about how it even happened!

Natia Filipska has been a character that I will cherish close to my heart. Of course, I adore my other OCs and will always love them, but Natia holds an even more special place there in my heart because of the challenge in writing she has offered me. She gives me a challenge everyday - whether it’s having to rewrite a scene 5 times because “it’s just not her” or completely starting over a chapter because knowing Natia, she’d have a better way to get out of this situation.

I’ve also made one of my absolute favorite ships, coined “Fliptoye” by a few readers (you know who you are hehe) and it has grown to truly be a favorite of mine for so many reasons. There was no “love at first sight” or really anything like that. Just two human beings realizing they genuinely care for each other and enduring both the struggles and hardships that come along with realizing in war, you care for something that war can also touch. That for one of the first times it is not longer just about you or the buddy next to you. Natia Filipska and Joe Toye have been a joy to write!

And of course there was the month of disliking Richard Winters, the iconic nickname of “Mapkeeper” for Lewis Nixon, the Roman History nerd jokes that have now developed with Ronald Speirs, the slow start of some sort of friendship because of cracking a joke about Nix with Harry Welsh, and the comfort of a friend from Carwood Lipton.

Even Joe Liebgott and Natia Filipska have swiftly become a favorite duo and I can completely agree. Getting to see where they started and where they are now — from seeing their differences and arguments and heavy weighted disagreements to know finding ways to comfort each other even in the midst of war and making sure the other is okay and even eating. They’ve definitely been one of my favorite duos to go through that sort of character arc together.

AND OF COURSE, we can not forget one of the most important driving forces in the fic, Death, himself (alongside the sarcastic bits of War haha), most importantly the personification of Death. What draws me to a character like him, is more than anything the fact words can not be communicated between Natia and Death yet they hold such a strong willed connection, that you almost don’t need to worry about words. Each layer that builds with their connection, leads for an even darker end and makes Death even more fascinating in the end.

You can’t forget a guy like Agent Mortem! Without him Natia and Agent “Fidel” wouldn’t be here right? Right? Right….? Well…..anyway…..even with who he is and his partially uncovered past, Agent Mortem remains a heavy asset to Landslide as the leading cause for WHY Natia could possibly even be the way she is and to provide backstory on a multitude of other things, and for reason for Natia to have her redemption. There’s so much unexplored. And I’m so ready to talk about it! :D

Landslide has challenged me in ways I can’t even begin to describe both mentally and emotionally with my writing. I’ve had to rewrite, rework, edit over and over just to get it right but at the end of the day, it is always worth it. In some ways I don’t even know what else to say, and almost think the story can speak for itself! It is made for you to interpret it they way you wish to interpret it, there’s no right way to see who Natia is or what Landslide is about — whether for you it be about family, friendship, love in war, darkness and overcoming that, the struggles of mental health, finding your own inner peace or independence….whatever it may be, I hope it has possibly even helped you somehow in anyway :) Even with the MAJOR HECKING ANGST (LMAO💀) or the extremely sad parts (that honestly are probably just super sad to me LOL), it still is a fic full of lessons and stories equally about someone like Natia!

Landslide has challenged me in ways I can’t even begin to describe both mentally and emotionally with my writing. I’ve had to rewrite, rework, edit over and over just to get it right but at the end of the day, it is always worth it. In some ways I don’t even know what else to say, and almost think the story can speak for itself! It is made for you to interpret it they way you wish to interpret it, there’s no right way to see who Natia is or what Landslide is about — whether for you it be about family, friendship, love in war, darkness and overcoming that, the struggles of mental health, finding your own inner peace or independence….whatever it may be, I hope it has possibly even helped you somehow in anyway :) Even with the MAJOR HECKING ANGST (LMAO💀) or the extremely sad parts (that honestly are probably just super sad to me LOL), it still is a fic full of lessons and stories equally about someone like Natia!

I can’t WAIT for whatever else this story has to bring to the table! With still a bit of writing for the future to go, it makes me so incredibly hopeful for an end in sight on both Landslide and Natia’s character and peace for all those lost throughout the story <3

Thank you to EVERY single person who took a chance with Landslide and took a read, if you were from Day One, saw it while scrolling through Wattpad or AO3 or Tumblr, or even saw the Spoon meme! I appreciate each and every single one of you! Whether you voted, commented or left a kudo, or just even took a read! I appreciate you SO MUCH! I can’t even begin to describe the joy this story has brought me and the challenges as a writer it has provided. I’m hopeful for the rest of this fic and hopefully for one or two more to come!

Special shout-out to @vintagelavenderskies for being by my side with this project since like DAY ONE?!?! EVEN BEFORE DAY ONE?!? I don’t even know but just genuinely for so long, how could I not tag you! You always are just so excited to hype me up as well as Natia (the lil bean) and give me support and comfort for whatever I was doing (especially that support, there was some rough moments throughout the year and the fic lol!) I just can’t thank you enough for your friendship and joy you’ve brought to me! <3 Thank you my friend, so so much, for everything! :D

I’ll also shoutout a few more lovely people who have just been…..absolutely wonderful in providing both support, or insight, wonderful commentary or just sweet messages throughout writing this! @tvserie-s-world (thank you for all the moodboards!!)@wecomrades @stressedinadress (credit do you my friend for og fliptoye name!!) @pxpeyewynn @whoahersheybars @kryzes @holdingforgeneralhugs @martinsrestingbitchface @whovian45810 @geniedocroe @thoughpoppiesblow @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @alienoresimagines @alejodi0nysus @brichard-bwinters and just genuinely anyone else who even sent me a small ask or message, I appreciate it so much and your support or love or help in anything Landslide-related, helped me more than anything! <3

THANK YOU! TO ALL OF YOU! I don’t know what else to say except thank you. Thank you for letting me bring who Natia was, alive through this fic as well as her spirit and compassion of ending the war. Along with her friendships of Easy Company and hardships of both her past and mental health. It’s been an honor and privilege — here’s to many more! ✨

Happy reading! <3

tags: (because you’ve all been there for support and I simply adore you all <3) @sunnyshifty @alienoresimagines @vintagelavenderskies @julianneday1701 @huenoclue @liebegott @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @sunflowerchuck @tvserie-s-world @wecomrades @thoughpoppiesblow @pxpeyewynn @rogue-sunday @stressedinadress @jalapeno-peaches-andhersheybars @lovingunderratedcharacters @legally-devorak @sgtxliptons86 @alejodi0nysus @mrsalwayswrite @heffrcns @curraheewestandalone @supervalcsi @xthefourthx @whoahersheybars @kryzes @papersergeant-pencilsoldier @whovian45810 @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @geniedocroe @holdingforgeneralhugs @martinsrestingbitchface @pipster4107 @mads-weasley

-> Feel free if you wish, to drop a favorite part that you really enjoyed from Landslide so far, a favorite memory or moment, happy or sad, a possible favorite quote or friendship if you wish too! If you feel even more inclined, questions are open as well! I have work all day but will be home to answer ;) THANK YOU ALL <3333 (mine has GOT to be the whole lone wolf thing lol!)

[durmstrange]

No Choice - George Weasley

Welcome back!  This blurb is so cute but a little hurty, and I love it a lot.  

Enjoy!

Word count: 1,556

An aching feeling in your heart refused to lighten as you watched the large group in the living room of the Burrow go over the plan once more.  You felt numb, and so worried, as you clutched Molly Weasley’s warm hand tightly.  She had become a mother to you long ago, when you had first met Fred and George in first year.  You had lost your family, spare your uncle, during the first wizarding war, leaving you without a mother figure for most of your life.  Molly changed everything for you, and was so pleased to find out that you and George started dating three years prior.  

Now, you clutched her hand, with the other one resting on your slightly bloated stomach, protecting a secret only George, Tonks, and yourself knew of.  You were two months pregnant, and you were waiting for the opportunity to tell the lot.  Tonks was the first one to know, other than George, only because she confided in you about her pregnancy, and you did the same.  You were due around the same time, and it was something that brought the two of you together.  

Now, you watched in agony as the group of people you loved prepared to go on a mission both dangerous and nerve wrecking.  Your eyes focused on George, because that is all you knew of, and you struggled to breath.  You wanted to come along to get Harry from Privet Drive, but George would simply not allow it.  You were old enough and well and able, but you suspected he told Mad Eye Moody of your pregnancy to be sure that you would not be involved.  

The group stood, ready to leave for Privet Drive, and you swallowed hard.  You dropped Molly’s hand as she moved towards Arthur, and George approached you.  “Let me come,” you whispered as you grabbed him and pulled him close, burying your face into his clothes.  

George smiled to you, entirely not phased by the situation at hand, like you were.  “Not when you have the little one with you,” he murmured and rested a hand on your bloated stomach.  You wore a large sweater and a jacket on top of that, and even then, you knew you were risking someone noticing.  You couldn’t go much longer without others beginning to noticing.  

You glanced around, to be sure no one was looking at the hand George had resting on your bloated stomach.  You moved his hand quickly and frowned.  “But what about Tonks?  She is as far along as I am and she is able to go,” you whispered and glanced down at yourself.  You looked far more pregnant than her.  You had a feeling that there was more than one child in there, but you had yet to share that with George.  

“She decided to go herself.”  George shrugged and wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close and resting his chin on your head.  

With an odd look, you moved so that he was forced to look at you.  “Why don’t I get to decide then?”  You asked him with a pout.  

George laughed lightly.  “Well, that is easy, love.  Because I decided that you had no choice,” he told you as Fred approached the two of you.  You moved from George’s arms and into Fred’s and sighed.  

“I am going to be so worried about the two of you,” you mumbled into the man that became like your brother so quickly.

Carefully, Fred rubbed your back.  “You know better than to be worried, little one.  The Weasley twins always get out of trouble,” he told you with a wink.  You sighed, and pulled away, letting your hands fall limply at your sides.  

The group was moving towards the door.  “Please, be safe.”  You pleaded to the twins and stood on your toes to give Fred a quick kiss on his cheek.  He retaliated, giving you his normal, comforting smile.  

“Always am,” he answered cheekily and walked off to Molly.  You looked at George with a stressed and beaten down look.  

George smiled to you, taking your hands in his.  He pulled you to him.  “It will be fine.  As Freddie said, the Weasley twins always avoid trouble,” he told you with a wide smile.

You scoffed.  “Narrowly,” you muttered, but gave him a weak smile.  You looked down at yourself again nervously, but with a small smile forming on your lips almost immediately.

Fred looked down as well, with a wide smile.  “We will tell everyone tonight, when we all get back.”  He spoke with such force, that you knew he was right.  He leaned down and gave you a long, sweet kiss before moving away.  “Hurry back,” you told him with worry evident on your face.  

He gave you a wink.  “Always.  I love you.”  He smile to you and gave Molly a quick kiss on her cheek.  

“I love you,” you called back with a frown on your face.  Ron gave you a quick hug, and Hermione kissed your cheek quickly.  She glanced at your belly with a knowing smile, causing a blush to form on your face. You glanced down again and made sure that it was covered, and it was.  Maybe you were more obvious than you thought, or Tonks let slip the secret.  

Arthur looked at you with a loving smile and squeezed your shoulder lightly, leaving as well.  Tonks winked as she gripped Remus’ hand.  Soon, it was just you, Molly, and Ginny, sitting around the large kitchen table with frowns.  You all held hands in a circle, not able to say a word, just remaining quiet and hopeful.

~.~

There was an odd sound outside, and quickly, all three of you stood and ran to the door.  You peered outside, carefully at first, but Ginny was already out the door, launching herself onto Harry.  Your heart ached lightly that it wasn’t your beloved George, but you were still happy as you hugged him after Ginny.  He was freezing from landing in the water, but you didn’t care.  

You hugged Hagrid next, who gave you the hairy grin you knew well.  “I’m so glad you all are okay.”  You spoke quietly and held his large hand in your own small ones.  

“So am I,”  Hagrid said in his heavy accent.  You smiled lightly, and looked out onto the Burrow.  There was another snap, and your stomach lurched once more.  You stood carefully, nervously, shifting as Molly hugged Harry tightly.  You saw Remus Lupin first, supporting a quickly changing Harry.  

It felt as if your heart stopped as you watched the normal black hair turn to red, and grow taller.  It was your George, and the side of his face was bloody.  “George!”  Your voice was shrill and worried, as both you and Harry ran for him.  Harry supported his other side, and you lead the way into the Burrow, clearing the pillows from the couch, other than one for his head.  

“My boy!”  Molly whimpered and began examining him closely as you fell to your knees next to the couch, holding his hand tightly.  

His eyes remained closed tightly and you squeezed his hand as hard as you could.  “Georgie?  Can you hear me, love?”  You asked desperately and stroked his hair.  You didn’t even listen to the commotion around you as you focused on George, and him responding to your voice.  

It wasn’t until Fred ran into the house did you notice that almost everyone was now back.  He fell onto the floor next to you, touching George’s face.  “How you feeling, Georgie?”  Fred asked and took your hand, squeezing it gently as you wiped the tears that had fallen earlier.  

George opened his eyes again, smiling faintly.  “I’m holy.”  

“Pardon?”  Fred asked with an odd look brandishing his face.    

George smiled gently.  “I’m holy.  Get it, Fred?  I’m holey,” George explained and weakly pointed to his ear.

Relief flooded through you as you put your head in your hands.  He was going to be okay.  He was going to live.  Your mind was clouded with bad thoughts that could have happened.  You could have been a single mother, raising possibly two kids alone, and being without the love of your life.  If George was joking, then you knew he was all right.  

“How does it feel, Fred?”  George asked weakly.  The group was huddled around, listening.  

You looked up, just as confused as Fred.  “What do you mean?”  Fred asked with a confused grin on his face from his twin’s previous joke.

George smiled and placed his hand on your shoulder, not strong enough to squeeze it.  “How does it feel to be an uncle?”  George asked and opened his eyes once more to watch Fred’s reaction.  

Silence overcame the room as everyone began to process what George said, then there was a mix of gasps and cheering.  Fred launched himself onto you, bringing you to your feet and hugging you tightly.  Before you knew it, the entire Weasley clan, along with Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid all took turns hugging you and hugging George.  

It was a dark situation, but it was okay.  For once, it was okay.

[alarriefantasy]

                                      Childhood Friends

Come As You Are by AFangirlFantasy

Words: 12k

Highschool Reunion AU where Harry is Niall's flatmate, Zayn and Liam are married, and Louis is just trying to find his way back home.

i love you most by stylinsoncity

Words: 12k

friends with benefits has always been enough for louis. until, of course, it isn't.

Love is like this; not a heartbeat, but a moan by angelichl

Words: 13k

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

What do you mean he's coming? by MediaWhore

Words: 15k

When Harry accepted to be his sister’s Maid of Honour, despite how non-traditional of a choice he was, he didn’t think writing a speech for the wedding reception would be this hard. Now, not only does he have less than two weeks left to find something moving and inspirational to say, but Gemma just confided in him that her old childhood best friend is going to be in attendance. The one who moved to LA and they haven’t seen in fifteen years because he was too busy becoming an Academy Awards winner. But hey, no pressure. It’s just Louis Fucking Tomlinson.

Harry is screwed.

everything comes back to you by amory

Words: 29k

Louis and Harry, best friends since before either of them can remember, broke up four years ago. Louis has achieved his dreams of becoming the next big thing while Harry has stayed back, dedicating himself to his studies. Both are content to forget what they had together, until a tragedy brings them right back into each other's lives.

He's been my Queen since we were 16 by larriebane

Words: 30k

Louis Tomlinson had been best friends with his neighbor’s son, Harry, as long as he could remember. The 16-year-old was small for his age and got bullied for being a weak alpha but Louis was there to help him. However, when the omega graduated from college and left for a university in London, he lost all contact with the Curly One. Five years later Louis finds himself back home, stalking a leggy hottie who looks like something from his wet dreams.

I Sail With You by AFangirlFantasy

Words: 35k

Against his wishes, Omega Prince Harry Styles is arranged to mate with someone he doesn’t love, much less knows. Though he pleaded to his parents incessantly, they not only refuse to comply but force him to depart on a ship days later. Harry prays for fate to step in, to change what’s to come, however, the answer he is given is not exactly in the form he had hoped.

Enter Will Tommo – deadliest pirate captain of all seven seas.

Runner on Third by kikikryslee 

Words: 39k

Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

Something in the way by momentofclarity

Words: 40k

Hope Floats 90’s AU. When Louis Tomlinson finds out his wife is cheating on him with his best friend, he packs up his life and takes his daughter back to his childhood hometown to start anew. The problem is—he’s not so sure he’s moving forwards rather than backwards. What he finds in the small Texas town is a whole lot of memories, people who think they still know him and a man who’s spent the past decade waiting for his return.

Canyon Moon by delsicle

Words: 40k

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

Faking It by TheCellarDoor

Words: 46k

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Never Let Me Go by loveisalaserquest17

Words: 55k

Harry and Louis have been friends forever, but they couldn't be more different. One night, with a little too much alcohol, they make a pact to marry in ten years if they're both still single.

Now, one month before the deadline, Louis is willing to do whatever it takes to avoid ending up with his best friend. But is he, really? | Loosely inspired by The 10 Year Plan

like cabbages and kings by you_explode

Words: 60k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

Your Name Is Tattooed On My Heart by mcpofife

Words: 86k

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

fearless by suspendrs

Words: 97k

Or, Harry left home without a word after high school, and a lot can change in ten years.

Heading for Limbo by kingsofeverything

Words: 100k

Childhood best friends who’ve fallen in and out of touch with each other since Louis’ family moved away when they were thirteen, Harry and Louis find their paths crossing again and again. Each time, no matter how many miles apart or how many years it’s been, it’s as if no time has passed. They fall back into their easy friendship, until life intervenes and sends them on their separate ways once more.

When Harry discovers some life-changing things about himself, Louis is there for him, however he needs. But it’s all temporary because Louis has plans that will move his life from New York all the way to L.A. and the distance isn’t the only thing between them.

The pieces of their twice broken hearts are scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

You Drive Me Crazy (but it feels alright) by MrsStylinson

Words: 102k

Bridget Jones' Diary AU.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

Love Will Tear Us Apart by lovelarry10

Words: 103k

Louis and Harry had it all - a career, friendship, and some of the best sex either of them had ever had.

But Harry ruins it all with one life-changing mistake ... and Louis is left to pay the price.

Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks)

Words: 144k

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Now In A Minute by thealmightyavocado

Words: 150k

13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for Louis it actually was.

More than anything in the world, Louis Tomlinson dreams of growing up. Simply skipping over all of the awkward, embarrassing years of teenage existence and getting on with life. Real life.

So when thirteen-year-old Louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected everything in his adult life to be picture perfect. And maybe it is. He has it all…or so it seems.

Except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, Harry Styles, is totally missing from the equation and Louis doesn’t understand why. He has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, Louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feels so empty.

Or the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.

♡ credit to the owner of the manip

♡ past themed recs here

[ravenbrenna09]

Jij Verliest - Chapter Seven: Clip 5&6

master list

...

note: I’m sorry, I’ve given up on actually making the texts. Also I didn’t italicize the texts because everytime I do, Tumblr doesn’t always get them all for whatever reason.

...

Maandag 11:52

Chat: Broerrrs + Luc

13 July, 11:52

Jens: ROBBE. IJZERMANS. What part of ‘text us about it’ did you not understand?

Robbe: Lucas. You could’ve warned me at least.

Lucas: Sorry.

Aaron: What happened to ‘Chill Jens’?

Moyo: Caps lock must’ve been on. 

Jens: Caps lock was on. Didn’t feel like changing it though. It served a purpose.

Moyo: What’s going on?

Aaron: Yeah, what do VDS know that we don’t?

Lucas: Um, do you want me to tell them?

Robbe: I can’t have one blissful Monday afternoon, can I?

Aaron: Of course not, it’s Monday.

Lucas: Robbe had a *visitor* this weekend. Someone who showed up on Friday night. And didn’t leave until this morning 👀 Should my sources be correct… 

Robbe: Zoë or Milan?

Lucas: My sources are confidential.

Moyo: Please tell me it was Sander.

Robbe: Yes, it was Sander.

Moyo: Thank god. Wait, are you being serious?

Jens: Yes! And *someone* forgot to tell us.

Robbe: I’m sorry, I was busy.

Aaron: Yeah, we know what you were doing all weekend.

Robbe: Cuddling and watching Harry Potter?

Moyo: You’re boring.

Robbe: Haha ���🏻 Sander didn’t think so. Also, who else would it be, Moyo?

Moyo: Worst case scenario? Thomas. Best case scenario? A random one nightstand.

Jens: Thomas? As if.

Moyo: That’s why it was the worst-case scenario.

Lucas: If it was Thomas, none of us would be able to stop Jens. And I’m thankful it’s not because I’m sick of his face. And my boyfriend isn’t in jail.

Aaron: Seconded.

Moyo: Third.

Jens: You guys know I almost always agree with Lucas. But I am also sick of Thomas’s face. And I would need bail money. 

Robbe: Yes, I know. I have a rotten ex-boyfriend. Luckily, I have a new one that’s ten times better.

Jens: Yes. Did he explain why he was distant?

Robbe: Yes, he did and I forgive him. I would’ve forgiven him anyway, but he did explain. And we’re together now.

Jens: Good. That’s all that matters.

Robbe: So, since we all know what *I* was doing this weekend: how were all of your weekends?

Lucas: the Netherlands was fun. Got to see Isa and the girls again. Plus, Mom kept trying to force-feed Jens. She told him he was too skinny.

Jens: She said the same thing to you. Why are you singling me out?

Aaron: Amber and I went out to lunch with her mom on Sunday.

Moyo: My girlfriend’s roommates were out on Saturday night. So we ended up cooking together. The first try was a bit of a disaster, but we managed to make something good the second time.

Robbe: That’s great. I’m glad everyone had fun.

Lucas: When are we going to meet this mystery girl, Moyo? You seem smitten.

Jens: Yeah, you do. And you call me whipped. You should see you.

Robbe: But you are whipped.

Jens: I’m not denying it. But he’s also whipped.

Lucas: You are.

Moyo: When are we going to meet Sander? As your friends, he’s just as important as you are.

Robbe: I don’t know. Probably about the same time that you introduce us to Noor.

Jens: Wait, Noor is your mystery girl?

Moyo: Aaron!

Aaron: I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING. I haven’t even told Amber!

Jens: Wait, Aaron knew about this and not me? I’m offended, bro.

Lucas: I’d like to know how Robbe knew. Because if Aaron didn’t tell Amber, he didn’t tell Robbe.

Robbe: My source is confidential.

Moyo: Robbe, I hate you.

Robbe: Don’t hate me. She’s a great girl. Plus, it’s not like you two are sly. At our movie night, you two were far more comfortable than you should’ve been.

Moyo: Yeah, you’re right.

Jens: I feel like my entire world has changed. 

…

Dinsdag 17:45

When Robbe had stepped into the tattoo parlor a little before 17:00, Alicia had leapt over the edge of the counter and bounced across the empty lobby. She had tackled him, nearly causing both of them to crash onto the floor, and her electric blue ponytail smacked him in the face. Robbe recoiled slightly from the accidental slap before sinking into her embrace. Once she pulled away, she bounced on her feet, looking like she might explode from excitement. 

“I’m so happy to see you here again!” she said, grinning. “I was starting to worry that I would have to deal with grumpy Sander for the rest of my life.” Robbe chuckled and Alicia smiled proudly. “But I’m glad to see that you two have made up—you did make up, right? He has just seemed happier today and yesterday and I’m assuming it’s because of you.”

Robbe laughed. “Yes, we did.”

Alicia bounced again, still grinning. “That’s great! His shift is over in a few minutes…” She trailed off, eyeing him suspiciously. “But I have a feeling that you already knew that.” While Alicia continued to eye him with playful suspicion, Robbe shrugged and grinned. “Sorry, my mom always tells me that I seem strange to people who don’t know me. It’s just I’ve heard so much about you from Sander and he’s practically family so I’m pretty protective of—”

“No, it’s okay, I understand—”

As if on cue, Sander stepped out of the hallway. Even after a long day of work, his bleach-blond hair was still immaculate and pristine. Today, he was wearing another black shirt but this one had Emilie’s Tattoo Parlor printed across his chest. He looked tired, but Robbe wasn’t surprised. He had worked the early shift. 

Stopping at the desk, he placed down a binder and adjusted the strap of his bag a little higher on his shoulder. Glancing up, his eyes caught Robbe talking with Alicia. As soon as he spotted them, he grinned brightly over at them, all tiredness fading from his face, and said, “Alicia, leave my boyfriend alone.” His tone was light and teasing as he crossed the room. Sander wrapped Robbe in a hug before moving towards the parlor door. “I only have him for an hour before he has to go to work.” 

“Oh right,” Alicia said, smacking her head like she forgot. She grinned at Robbe, waving goodbye at the two of them. “Have a good dinner!” 

“Tell Britt hi!” 

Leaving the tattoo parlor, Robbe collected his bike before following Sander down a well-tuned series of turns to their destination. With one arm around Sander’s waist and the other steering his bike, Robbe felt like he was right where he was meant to. Robbe didn’t know where they were going—just to some restaurant that Robbe had to try—but he followed Sander’s gentle tugs and guidance with ease. Once they arrived at the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, Robbe locked his bike up and let Sander drag him inside. 

Robbe didn’t know what he had been expecting from the small restaurant, but it was one of the best pizzas that he’d ever had. As soon as they walked in, the cashier recognized Sander and proceeded to tease him about taking too long to bring his boyfriend around. When the cashier brought them their pizzas, moving before Sander could get up to get them, they were hot to the touch and fresh from the oven. 

As they ate their food, Sander would reach out to feed Robbe a bite of his or brush a hand on his thigh beneath the table. Every time Sander did something, paid attention to him, his heart grew three sizes. Even so early into their relationship, he felt so cared for. Robbe tried to do the same. He would reach out to hold his knee or hold Sander’s hand beneath the table. And Sander never shied away from Robbe’s touch. In fact, he seemed to blossom with it. 

As they left the restaurant, hand in hand and laughing, the cashier tried to say it was on the house for their favorite customer and his boyfriend. Robbe blushed profusely at their comment and Sander merely chuckled, thanking them. As soon as the cook called the cashier’s name, Sander quickly dropped the money to cover the order (and more) into the tip jar before dragging Robbe from the restaurant. 

Even though it wasn’t that long of a ride, Sander insisted on driving Robbe back to the flatshare. Their only trouble was getting Robbe’s bike in the car, but they managed to make it work by tilting it a little. The ride itself was short and relaxing. Sander drove with one hand on the wheel and the other was wrapped gently with Robbe’s hand. As he weaved through the traffic, Sander talked in vivid detail about a tattoo that he did earlier this afternoon as Robbe listened intently. 

As they pulled into a stop outside the building, Robbe got curious. “Hey, Sander.”

“Yeah?” Sander asked. 

“What were you thinking about, that night at the bar?” Robbe asked. 

It had been a question on Robbe’s mind for a while. His thoughts of the night were abundantly clear—okay, maybe slightly buzzed—that the random stranger with an armful of tattoos who sat down next to him and offered him a smoke and gave him an impromptu therapy session was hot. As he nursed his hangover the next morning, Robbe had briefly entertained the thought of meeting him again but Robbe had thought it was an impossible feat. Seeing Sander walk in that bar less than a week later… it had felt like a sign.

One that Robbe had been simultaneously curious and terrified of. 

When Sander was quiet, simply staring at the steering wheel with a small smile on his face, Robbe added, “I’m sure that it must’ve been one hell of a crappy impression.” 

Sander glanced up at him with a small look of disbelief and a scoff. “What makes you think that?” Sander teased. 

Robbe turned in his seat, facing Sander with a mischievous smile on his face. He placed their joined hands in his lap, running his finger over the back of his hand. “I don’t know, but if I saw a guy sitting quite dramatically on the floor—I think that was your wording,” Robbe said and Sander laughed, “and lamenting his ex-boyfriend, it wouldn’t have been the best first impression I’ve ever made.”

“I don’t know,” Sander said. He put the car in park before turning to Robbe, who was waiting impatiently beside him. Sander tugged their joined hands back into his lap before turning Robbe’s over so the palm was facing upward. Sander trailed a finger along the lines of his palm, leaving Robbe squirming in his seat. “I think you made quite the first impression.”

This time, it was Robbe’s turn to scoff. He leaned against the leather of the car, relishing in the feeling of Sander’s doodles on his palm. “You know as well as I do, I could’ve done a lot better than bitching about my ex with someone—”

“No,” Sander said, interrupting him lightly. His voice was quiet like he was having a private conversation with himself and Robbe watched on, biting down on his lip. “That wasn’t the time I meant.” 

Robbe’s eyebrows pulled tight, staring at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Sander’s eyes darted up to meet Robbe. He could see the panicked expression in his eyes, like he didn’t expect Robbe to hear his secret confession. Quickly, his expression shifted to nervous. A small lopsided grin formed on his lips as he tilted his head to the side. Sander’s hand fidgeted around his and Robbe twisted his hand around to grasp at Sander’s fingers. 

“Sander,” Robbe said. “What is it?” 

“Um,” Sander said, biting down on his lip. “Last August, I went to the bar with my roommates after a long day at work. While I was waiting for them to show up, I spotted this beautiful man standing at the bar talking with the owner like he did it every day.” 

Sander’s eyes raised, catching his brown ones in an instant, and Robbe was certain his heart stopped in his chest. Him, Robbe realized. Sander had seen him before. 

“Before I could work up the nerve to talk to him, to get the name of this beautiful man who turned my world upside down in an instant, his boyfriend showed up and whisked him away from me. I thought that was the end of it—that I missed my chance until…” Sander trailed off. 

Robbe felt his stomach flip, nervous and excited. Bringing Sander’s hand to his mouth, Robbe placed a kiss against his knuckles. Sander followed him with a heavy gaze in his eyes and the corners of his lips quirked up nervously. “Until?” Robbe asked, his lips brushing against Sander’s knuckles. 

“Until…” Sander continued. Robbe scooted closer to him—or as much as he could in the small confine of the car. He was practically leaning over the console, trying to get as close to Sander as he could. Sander glanced at Robbe nervously. “Until last month. It had been a rough few months, but I was starting to come out of it. It was my first time out of the apartment other than for work for a month and I looked over and saw the beautiful man in the bar again.”

Robbe giggled. 

“As soon as I saw him, I knew that he was the one. My mother used to tell me that there was no such thing as a coincidence,” Sander said, reaching up to wipe a thumb across Robbe’s flushed cheeks. “She used to go on and on about how ‘what is meant for you won’t pass you by’—”

“Is that what the quote on your side is?” Robbe asked, quietly. Sander paused, staring at him. “I saw it on Saturday but your arm was covering most of it.” 

Sander grinned. “Yes, it is. Now, back to the story—” 

Robbe mumbled out a quiet ‘sorry’ and Sander gave him a stern look. 

“When I saw that beautiful man for the second time, I knew that the universe was trying to give me a sign and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. When I saw him head outside to get some air, I followed. But I only managed to learn his name before the universe ripped him away from me again.” He let out a heavy sigh and slumped his shoulders. “But, lucky for me, I managed to find him again, not even a week later, and I knew that I couldn’t let him get away from me again.” 

“Wow,” Robbe said, breathless. Sander looked up at him with nervous eyes, staring at Robbe intensely. He let out a breath, reaching up to take Sander’s face in his hands. “You really saw me that long ago?”

“Yes,” Sander whispered. “Since the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted you, Robbe IJzermans… even before I knew what your name was.” His eyes scanned Robbe’s face. “Are you mad?” 

Staring at Sander for a few seconds, Robbe hastily undid the seatbelt around him. He could see the worried look on Sander’s face, like Robbe was going to climb out and never look back, but Robbe simply climbed on the seat. His knees dug into the leather as Robbe leaned across the center to press a deep kiss against Sander’s lips. He clung to the strands of Sander’s icy blond hair, holding on for dear life, as Sander let out a grunt. 

Since the beginning, Sander had always seen him. Whether it was last month outside the bar or last year inside the bar, Sander had seen him. He had seen Robbe in the comfort of his bed, in the disarray of a friendly gathering, desperate in a tattoo parlor, and so many moments in between. Robbe wanted Sander to see him in all of his moments and moods, just like he wanted to see all of Sander’s faces and facades. He wanted all of Sander, everything he could get them. 

Sander’s words from last Friday came rushing back: Robbe IJzermans, since the moment that I first saw you, I have wanted you. 

“So you’re not mad?” Sander asked, breaking their kiss. 

Robbe shook his head, practically panting against Sander’s mouth. “No, I’m not mad.”

“Good,” Sander said, quietly. “I was worried you might be.” 

“I’m not. I promise.” 

Robbe moved to kiss Sander again. Robbe wanted to kiss him a little harder. Robbe wanted to pour every single emotion bursting out of his chest into the kiss for Sander—for Sander to taste—at the same intensity Robbe was experiencing from him. But, at the last second, Sander pulled away a mischievous smile on his lips and Robbe couldn’t help the whine. “What were you thinking the night that you first saw me outside the bar?”

Robbe chuckled. “I could only think of one thing—” Pausing, Robbe leaned forward. His knees were strained from this position, but he didn’t care. Stopping a hair away from connecting their lips fully, Sander glanced up at Robbe with a mischievous look in his eye as Robbe grinned. “—Fuuucccckkk, he’s so hot.”

Sander laughed but his laugh was muffled by Robbe’s lips pressing against his. 

[trashcankitty12]

Bloom Headcanons:

Everyone, meet Bloom Peters (or, if you prefer, Princess Bloom Hannes of Domino). 

She gets a bad rap(or is it rep?) for being the center of attention so often and for having her character written poorly. It happens.

So please, take this time to re-learn Bloom and who she really is.

(As stated before these headcanons may work for other verses and stuff, but they’re mostly for my main verse “Balance/New Company of Light” and “Left”.)

-Bloom sort of has two birthdays… When she was found by Vanessa and Mike, the doctor they took her to gave his best estimate of December 10th. However when she revived Domino and Marion and Oritel told her about her birthday, it turned out that her birthday is actually a few days later. (Give or take with the Magical Dimension calendars… Their months and days are just a tad different than ours.)

-Vanessa and Mike sort of knew that Bloom was special. Not just because of how she was found, but because of her actions as a child. (Like she was never sick. Not really. And she always seemed to be hotter than her classmates were temperature wise. And if she was hurt, she always healed really quickly.)

-Bloom had never really thought much of her birth parents until she discovered her magic (and Stella) and the rest of the Magical Dimension. Granted, she had her thoughts about them and had questions she wanted to know the answers too, but she had never planned on hunting them. (At least, not until she was over 18… She didn’t want to hurt Mike and Vanessa’s feelings or make them feel that they weren’t enough for her.)

-Bloom is the third best driver out of the Winx group. Tecna and Layla being the most careful/best. (Though Layla could be considered more of a stunt driver…)

-She had never really ridden horses much before meeting Stella. In fact, she can recall maybe one time riding a pony at a birthday party for one of her classmates. Stella, being the horse girl that she is, found that unacceptable and had arrangements made so that for a week during their summer vacation, all of the Winx girls could come to Solaria and hang out at her uncle’s ranch. (Bloom ended up being surprisingly decent at riding… But Flora and Layla were much better.)

-Bloom’s not that short, in fact she always thought she was average height when she was on Earth. (5’4”) However, upon meeting other Dominians, it became clear to her that she was a little on the small side. (Oritel says she takes after his own mother, Rest Her Soul.)

-The summer after reviving Domino, Bloom stayed and basically got a crash course on her planet’s history and on princess etiquette. (Yes the maids annoyed the fuck out of her, and learning how to walk in royal gowns and robes was difficult, and WHY ARE THE MAIN COLORS OF DOMINO SUCH A GOLD COLOR?!)

-Daphne helped make the transition easier, considering she had been able to watch Bloom’s growth on Earth and at Alfea and knew how to make it make sense for her sweet niece. (When she’s not busy being the Nymph…)

-Bloom was just grateful that Stella and Layla had been given her courses on princess stuff ever since she and Sky got their shit together. It made everything so much smoother.

-On the flipside, Bloom helped her parents and the Councils of Domino integrate into modern society and learn more about the changes in the world. (And what she didn’t know, she knew who to point them to… Which was mostly Stella’s parents and the Parliament of Zenith.)

-Bloom and Mitzi used to be friends. It was way back in elementary school and they were close. Things changed when Mitzi started spending more time with her stepmother and developed her ‘I’m better than you because I’m rich’ attitude. (It was why Mitzi could hurt her so bad, she was one of the few who knew enough about Bloom to hurt her. Especially when it came to her being adopted.)

-Vanessa and Mike told Bloom about her adoption early on, making sure she knew how much they loved her. (Even if they didn’t tell the whole story…) Bloom always felt loved and was thrilled to be their child, but there was always that part of her that wondered why her birth parents didn’t keep her. (And if there was something wrong with her…)

-After Domino’s revival, Bloom made sure that Mike and Vanessa and Oritel and Marion got to know one another. It was important to her that both sets of parents got along. (And they do, quite well… Most of the time… Oritel and Mike may have differing parental views.)

-Bloom’s earth family isn’t that large. Just a few aunts and uncles and cousins. Mostly from her mother’s side. (Mike was an only child.) And because they were all pretty spread out, they only really got together during the holidays.

-During the winter break of her freshman year, Bloom decided to immediately come out as a fairy to the rest of her earth family. She didn’t want secrets and she had Mike and Vanessa help her break it to them. They were all surprised, and kind of worried when she first showed them her wings… But they were all proud that she was finding out who she was, even if they didn’t understand how magic could be a real thing.

-As for her biological family… It’s really just Marion, Oritel, and Daphne. Oritel and Daphne’s father had been a knight for the Dominian Royal Family, their mother having died giving birth to Daphne. Their father ended up passing away after a fight with a banshee took his life force. And Marion’s parents… They were some of the first casualties of the Great War. (Which brings on mixed feelings in Marion… She loved her parents and hated for them to meet such an end, but at the same time… They weren’t exactly ‘parents’ to her, so much as they were simply her predecessors.)

-Growing up, Bloom was obsessed with fantasy lands and fairy tales. Fairies were amazing to her and the concept of magic just made her feel something so joyful. She read every fairy tale book she could get her hands on, read every graphic novel, watched all the movies and tv shows. (And may have gotten a little into Harry Potter and those Disney Fairy things before the Tinkerbell movies came out.)

-She even has an appreciation for Vampire Diaries. (Yes, she knows the tv show is bad, but it’s her guilty pleasure dammit. And it’s also one of Stella’s and Musa’s now.)

-Bloom also has a guilty pleasure in watching reality shows… Specifically the Bachelorette/Bachelor series. She knows they’re trainwrecks of shows, but she just can’t turn away. (And yes, Stella has gotten into the shows too. And surprisingly, so has Tecna.)

-Bloom’s main hobby growing up was drawing. She loved doodling and trying to create her own fairytale characters and their flowing dresses and elaborate wings. But after meeting Helia and seeing his drawings, she admittedly felt insecure in her own works… (But that quickly changed after getting to know Helia and becoming friends. They tend to go to the local art classes at the Magix Library now.)

-She also enjoys biking, which translated well into levibiking. (Especially after Sky taught her how to drive it. She absolutely loves how fast it can go.)

-And like a true Cali-girl, Bloom loves the beach and enjoys going surfing from time to time. (She’s not that good at it, but she finds it life-affirming.)

-On the flipside, Bloom is good at gardening and tending to flowers, but its not something she enjoys doing. Yes, she enjoys spending time with her mom and everything, but the flowers just don’t… Speak to her.

-She’s never been one for fashion and tended to dress more for comfort… But upon meeting Stella… That changed pretty quickly. (Now she dresses for both comfort and style. The best of both worlds.)

-Bloom was a decent student at Alfea, mostly a B’s students with a few A’s. (Her favorite class was learning defensive spells actually… And her least favorites had to do with the Magical Reality Chamber. Mostly after things had happened with the Trix.)

-Speaking of the Trix, Bloom will admit… She had had hope for them to turn their lives around after freshmen year. She’d sincerely hoped that they’d become better people at Light Rock, that maybe they’d see the error of their ways.

-She didn’t lose hope for them either, until they’d nearly killed her and her friends to get Cloud Tower’s piece of the Codex. (And even then, a small part of her hopes on.)

-Bloom’s connection to her Dragon side has gotten stronger and stronger each day since her magic “woke up”. At first the Dragon could only speak to her in her dreams, but now she can hear its thoughts and even catch glimpses of its memories from its past hosts. (Or should Bloom consider it a ‘she’ even though it’s a spirit? The Dragon’s voice is feminine…)

-Bloom’s still hoping to gain Erendor and Samara’s respect/acceptance. She knows they’re not perfect people, but they’re Sky’s parents and she wants to get along with them. Which is one reason it’s so good she got Domino back in action, having her father talk to his might smooth over any remaining hostilities. (Especially from where Diaspro was concerned.)

-Speaking of Diaspro, she was willing to try and make amends with the other fairy after the events of freshmen year. Being in that grueling battle against the Army of Darkness had her realizing that life’s too short to hate people, especially people who had been put in just as bad a place as she was. But that was short-lived after seeing the paparazzi pics from Stella of Sky and Diaspro hanging out.

-(Yes, Bloom and Sky had a shit-ton of issues to work out. The two had a very long and awkward and emotional talk after Valtor’s defeat, wanting to finally clear things up between them once and for all. Now they’re stronger than ever.)

-Bloom was relieved to head back to earth for a mission after finding out about a fairy and a witch having their powers wake up. It gave her an excuse to put a pause on her princess training. (She knows it’s important, but it’s so much information to take in at once…)

-She’s not sure if it’s just her or not, but Bloom loves the feeling of transforming into her fairy forms. She can literally feel her magic come to the surface of her skin and create these clothes and unfurl her wings and just… She feels so alive.

-Out of all the realms she’s visited, Bloom thinks Linphea and Melody are the prettiest. They’re so picturesque and everything about them is just alive and light and she feels so amazing being there. (She’s still not sure how she feels about realms like the Ice Kingdom… There’s so much underneath their surfaces that she just… Can’t place.)

-There have been times when Bloom has actually wanted to hurt people. To obliterate them. (When the Trix nearly killed Kiko, when she was sure they stole the Dragon Fire, when she thought they got Tecna killed because of the Omega Portal, and when Ogron came after Roxy.)

-In the future, Bloom hopes she’ll become a great and worthy queen. That everything she and her friends went through, that everything her family did, wouldn’t be in vain. And she sincerely hopes that Sky will be there at her side. (Though she’s not sure how attempting to combine Eraklyon and Domino would go over, or if it could be done.)

-Seriously though, she hopes to be a great Dominian Queen one day. And that she’ll be able to trust her Dragon’s guidance to do what’s necessary.

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- HORACE SLUGHORN

Harry fidgeted with the first page of his chapter. The idea should have been thrilling, taking off with Dumbledore on an adventure. Perhaps he was finally, truly being involved, instead of being the sideshow of his own life as most previous years had felt. He just couldn't make himself get into that mood. The atmosphere around him was still heavy with the Dursleys and now Dumbledore featuring in their thoughts, and though Harry really didn't feel any fear for anything to come with this particular endeavor, there still was something of him and Dumbledore traveling off together that put him greatly ill at ease.

He pushed that aside and determined to keep at least a calm attitude for now when there was nothing to really fear, he was sure that would come up later with the way his life went.

Despite the fact that he had spent every waking moment of the past few days hoping desperately that Dumbledore would indeed come to fetch him, Harry felt distinctly awkward as they set off down Privet Drive together. He had never had a proper conversation with the headmaster outside of Hogwarts before; there was usually a desk between them.

Sirius nodded with agreement to that. The first time seeing their headmaster outside of school had been quite mind boggling, and they hadn't even been attending regular Order meetings yet.

The memory of their last face-to-face encounter kept intruding too,

Harry couldn't feel as much shame for that now without his headmasters calm face to look at, he was still exceptionally pale from remembering it so vividly. No one else looked any better, their first hand experience with Harry in that state still fresh in this room as Remus shifted and refused to look at anyone and Harry only fidgeted more guilty than ever.

and it rather heightened Harry's sense of embarrassment; he had shouted a lot on that occasion, not to mention done his best to smash several of Dumbledore's most prized possessions.

"Lucky him," Remus muttered purely for himself, fighting back the urge to rub at his face where Harry had clocked him in his temper during that same time.

  Dumbledore, however, seemed completely relaxed. He brightly reminded Harry to keep his wand at alert, despite Harry pointing out he thought he wasn't allowed to use magic outside school.

"Thought?" Sirius caught hold of the mood and threw it out the window, to replace it with annoyance at launching into a snide comment for something so minuscule Harry had said, but it was still better than that heavy feeling everyone else knew. "Harry, you had a whole bloody trial about it last year, you more than think it's not allowed."

"How do I know they didn't change the rules with everything else going on?" He said back blandly, but there was the smallest smile on his face as he did so for snipping back at his godfather again.

Dumbledore instructed in no uncertain terms that if they were in any way attacked, Harry was to use any counterjinx or curse that may occur to him. Though he qualified that shouldn't be needed tonight.

"I at least admire his optimism, if not his confidence," Lily sighed.

Harry asked why he was so sure, and Dumbledore said simply he was with him.

James frowned with a heavy shake to his head, remembering at one time he'd thought that really had been an adequate answer. He no longer felt so sure, and it left his only child's future feeling more perilous than ever even though he had lived through it.

They stopped at the end of Privet Drive and Dumbledore instructed for Harry to grasp his good arm, they were going to apparate the rest of the way. Never having done this before as one had to be seventeen to get a license, Harry found the sensation extremely uncomfortable,

Harry was grateful he'd already experienced that one under such circumstances he hadn't been able to linger on that feeling. Even remembering it now caused a bit of claustrophobia he didn't even have.

he felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube.

"Always do love your descriptions," James chuckled.

Dumbledore asked how the experience was, and Harry agreed he was fine while rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Privet Drive rather reluctantly.

Lily shivered at the idea of her son splinching himself, even if he did have Dumbledore with him there to sort it out.

He decided right then he preferred brooms.

"Honestly, I don't blame you," Sirius agreed.

Dumbledore merely smiled and tightened his cloak around him before taking off again, and Harry looked around at his complete new environment. According to a nearby church clock, it was now midnight.

Dumbledore kept the conversation going by asking about Harry's scar, had it been hurting?

Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark.

Sirius normally would have loved to laugh at Harry clearly trying to resist the impulse to do the same in here, but he was too invested watching him carefully for that answer. Harry had been left in a very dangerous position for more reasons than just him leaving his life, Voldemort was now aware of this connection. Just because it hadn't worked once didn't mean it couldn't again, and they all felt like a glass on the edge of the table, ready to fall the moment they weren't looking.

Harry said no, and added his surprise of this.

Dumbledore apparently wasn't. Voldemort now knew of the dangerous access of sharing between the two Harry had been enjoying,

"Enjoying is the wrong word," Harry interrupted none so quietly.

and was likely employing occlumency against him.

"Well I'm glad he's pleased," James snapped, fighting back the temptation to hold Sirius and Harry as close to him as he could. "That doesn't get rid of the original problem, what if he decides to do it again!"

Seeing the clear worry at this eating away at everyone in front of him, Harry dug deep, but instead of a memory he couldn't remember, the slow surfacing thoughts of those two weeks. That calm, detached way he'd been forced to feel in the confines of the Dursleys house, and he pushed to put that back up in here, a space he'd never tried to put himself in before away from this family.

"I won't fall for the same mistake twice."

James looked to him in surprise for the tone, they all did, but at first glance it looked like he was really trying to assure them this didn't happen at all, so he got some honest attempts at smiles for a moment and quickly kept going before they could linger on this any longer.

Harry wasn't complaining otherwise, and changed to ask where they were.

"I do love how long it took him to ask that," Remus snorted softly.

Budleigh Babberton,

"Never heard of it," James said, his curiosity starting to win over agitation of all this and wondering more every moment what Dumbledore was up to instead of focusing on it being with Dumbledore.

they were here to once again fix Hogwarts being a staff member short, and Dumbledore was hoping to convince an old friend to come out of retirement.

"Because that's worked out so well the last few times," Remus said deadpan.

"Would you rather another Ministry appointee?" Sirius challenged.

Remus made the appropriate face for the suggestion, but Harry honestly didn't blame Remus for the initial comment, he'd been thinking the same thing when Remus had said it.

Harry asked how he could be of help with that, and Dumbledore gave the vague answer he'd find a use.

"I can't imagine we're much going to like the person if arriving with the famous Harry Potter means anything," Lily rolled her eyes at once in contempt for using her son like this.

As they continued on their walk, Harry asked why they hadn't just apparated right into this friend's house.

James went cross eyed in his attempt not to laugh in pain at his child not knowing something ten years prior already.

Dumbledore explained it was not only rude, but most places were warded against this very thing, such as Hogwarts. Harry agreed Hermione had told him about the school.

"About the only thing you ever retain that she tells you," Sirius said with a strained smile, no one really wanted to go back thinking to her any more than Dumbledore right now.

Harry wanted to next ask why they were visiting this person at such a time, but decided to move onto more important questions, such as asking about Fudge being sacked.

James mock yawned at the politics coming into play, and Harry decided to help him out a bit by asking, "even if we couldn't apparate into his house, why were we still so far away?"

"I think that's Dumbledore's thing to be honest," Lily gave a careless shrug. "The man seems to enjoy his strolls, he's been known to appear miles outside of where he's going to end up just for a nice walk."

Harry chuckled lightly, that was easy enough to imagine.

Dumbledore agreed his replacement was Rufus Scrimgeour.

Harry asked what his thoughts on him were?

Dumbledore supplied he was more adept at handling Voldemort, and would certainly not underestimate him.

Harry waited and hoped Dumbledore would bring up the supposed disagreement the paper had mentioned between the two, but when it wasn't forthcoming he didn't have the nerve to pursue it and changed the subject.

"Honestly Harry," Sirius pouted, "the one interesting bit about that!"

Harry just rolled his eyes at him, refusing to again remind he still could only envision the man as his headmaster more than those around him clearly saw him more of an openly approachable...well he wasn't sure anymore.

Dumbledore began to point that the place was just up ahead, but he'd used his injured hand and suffered a visible pain for it.

This caught all attention at once, the injury maybe even more severe than they'd first realized if it hurt so much as just moving it. His wand arm at that! What protection he'd have for Harry out in the open suddenly seemed even more feeble...Harry wouldn't let them keep worrying though, continuing on stoutly without a trace of anything but that same simple curiosity. If he felt anything else right now he wasn't sure what would come of it.

Harry again tried to ask about this injury, but Dumbledore waved off it was a thrilling tale, and he wanted to do it justice. Now was not that time.

"Right," Remus drew the word out with more sardonicness than Sirius had ever heard when he'd spoken of the man, and he turned to full on look him, seeing right past the snippy comment to Remus' foul mood.

Remus was pretending no such thing was going on, and Harry was clearly distracted to notice the other two, at least giving them the hope Dumbledore did explain to Harry at some point.

Harry could tell by his tone he was not being discouraged from continuing the conversation, so began to ask about the leaflets the Ministry had sent out.

Dumbledore concluded Harry hadn't found them very helpful, as he had not been asked about his favorite flavor of jam upon arrival to discover an impostor Dumbledore.

"He didn't know that to begin with," James snorted. "There's no point in a security question if you've no hope of actually knowing the answer."

"What should he have asked him?" Lily poked fun at him.

"What did I see in the Mirror of Erised," Harry quietly supplied. Quietly enough that he hoped they hadn't heard the slip of his tongue and kept going just a bit louder.

Harry was unsure if he was being reprimanded, Dumbledore continued the answer was raspberry, though he was sure any competent impostor would know as such anyways.

"Would you really?" Sirius chuckled.

"Someone must have checked Moody's to pass as him for so long," Remus snipped.

Sirius scowled at him, he hoped Moony didn't expect to get away with making snide comments towards Dumbledore the rest of the time here and really think they wouldn't notice.

Choosing to instead get to his question, Harry asked about Inferi, the leaflet hadn't given a good explanation.

Dumbledore did.

As if Harry had wanted more of an explanation!

Harry was so lost in thought at the answer, he ran into Dumbledore when he froze in place muttering, 'oh dear.'

"Well that's encouraging," Lily squeaked.

Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.

"Run," James said at once with such force Harry nearly got to his feet to do just that.

"Dad," Harry tried to protest, but James wouldn't hear it. "He should have apparated you out of there already!"

Harry wasn't going to argue the point, just went back to a memory he still felt nothing bad for.

Dumbledore glanced up and down the street. It seemed quite deserted. He instructed Harry to keep his wand at the ready and stay close.

Harry felt more than saw those around him tense and more furious than ever bringing him into this instead, but he wouldn't look up long enough to let them vent about it. He had a really funny feeling about this place, leaning more towards curiosity than fear as he should have felt, which his mind certainly remembered but he just couldn't seem to capture now.

Dumbledore's wand tip ignited, casting its light up a narrow hallway. To the left, another door stood open. Holding his illuminated wand aloft, Dumbledore walked into the sitting room with Harry right behind him.

A scene of total devastation met their eyes. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little farther away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier flittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper. Harry's small intake of breath made Dumbledore look around.

With every description Harry read he knew his family was envisioning the same as him, a battle of the most horrid nature, a family ripped apart, another orphan left dead because of a fight only the good seemed to lose. He would not let them dwell on these thoughts though, he refused! Swallowing hard, he kept himself going instead of thinking a moment longer.

Dumbledore said heavily something horrible must have happened here.

Lily made a high pitched noise of frustration. She'd long since recognized her boy wasn't her baby anymore, by the age of sixteen he'd seen far too much death. That didn't mean Dumbledore needed to keep introducing more! Where was Molly when Lily actually wanted her around?

Dumbledore moved carefully into the middle of the room, scrutinizing the wreckage at his feet. Harry followed, gazing around, half-scared of what he might see hidden behind the wreck of the piano or the overturned sofa, but there was no sign of a body.

'No sign doesn't mean anything,' Sirius couldn't stop the jittery thought edging in, but refused to speak that one aloud.

Harry offered that a fight had happened and he'd been dragged off, but Dumbledore disagreed he was still here.

With precise movements, he made his way across the room to an overstuffed armchair on its side, and jabbed his wand into its center, releasing a cry of pain from it.

Harry couldn't help but startle hard at reading that, and his was the smallest compared to the others. Who expected a chair to do that, even a magical one?!

Dumbledore greeted Horace, who was a squat old balding man now rubbing at his belly with watering eyes instead of a chair.

Lily mouthed the name Horace again, quite certain she was imagining this all wrong while the boys still looked so tossed from such a drastic sudden change they didn't seem to be taking in an actual word.

He whined there was no need to stick the wand in that hard, while Harry eyed his walrus like mustache and maroon velvet pajamas.

"Slughorn!" Sirius yelped like he'd been kicked in the shin.

"Well I um, didn't see that one coming," James looked very close to being sick, still so torn from worry at what Harry could have been in now mixed with that shock of an old school teacher popping out of quite literally nowhere.

Remus suddenly burst out laughing, hard, and for the first time all morning everyone joined in. The Marauders in particular had liked Slughorn the least of all their teachers, though for no good reason. He'd never persecuted Remus for his werewolf status, none had honestly, but they'd also never quite shaken the feeling he got uneasy around him. He'd constantly hounded Sirius and James to join his Slug Club, and the only one of them who'd ever shown any skill in his class was so often out shined by Snivellus and Evans anyways that he'd only been another student.

Yet considering all they had been dealing with regarding Harry's potions teacher, this was an absolute dream come true!

"I don't get it," Harry looked around at them, all to clear he was missing something.

"That's Slughorn, our old Potions teacher-" Lily hardly got the words out around a brilliant smile before Sirius screeched so loud he nearly took all of their ears off at once, "so does that mean Snape left!"

"I'd bloody hope so," James agreed adamantly, crossing every one of his fingers and several of his toes. This fact alone would make this entire year better than any other.

"But why would he?" Lily muttered, not disagreeing it would be a nice change to not loath one of Harry's classes for his treatment in it, but clearly alone in worrying why the change of circumstances. Certainly Snape in his own previous chapter had given no indication there was change coming in his status at Hogwarts.

"Who cares," all four boys said at once. They just couldn't care about anything else right now, finally some good news!

He demanded what had given him away, remarkably unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair.

"Why was he though?" Lily insisted popping holes in their jubilation to keep focus. "Just what was his ploy in faking something so terrible?"

James ruffled his hair as he forced his mind to think about it, rather than focusing on the much more fun mental image of Snape getting sacked. "Ah, Dumbledore mentioned he was asking him to come out of retirement. We don't actually know what made him go into retirement though."

"I can't imagine Death Eaters threatening Slughhorn," Sirius rolled his eyes heavily at this.

"It is rather convenient timing Snape got the position just as he 'left' Death Eater ranks," Remus pointed out with a frown.

"Stop," Lily snapped before any more accusations could be thrown around. "If you're not going to offer anything more helpful than spiteful comments won't do any good." She finished with a haughty look at Remus who looked right back with one of his own.

For a moment it actually looked like Remus was going to argue the point, despite his friends looking at him like he'd grown a second head. If anyone would have agreed with Lily about Snape's status they would have accused Moony, who would have believed Dumbledore on principle. Despite words from the man himself whose side he was on, it was hard to shake Dumbledore's trust in all this as well, now though this didn't even seem to have crossed Remus' mind.

Harry felt it was better for everyone's health if he ignored the tension snapping right back into the room and kept going.

Dumbledore explained if the Death Eaters had come for him, the Dark Mark would be over this residence.

"Not necessarily," Remus rolled his eyes for that generalization. It was custom yes, but not always the rule. He'd entered one to many houses to know that. Yet another thing Dumbledore got wrong.

Horace muttered he knew he'd forgotten something,

"Err, or the knowledge of doing it," James muttered, looking a touch concerned for the skip. They only knew the name of the spell because of a misfortunate lapse in luck to his son, but still weren't even aware of more than that, if they could even do it themselves now.

Dumbledore offered to help clean up, and Horace thanked him for the offer. The two stood back to back and made one identical sweeping motion.

"I still don't get it," Sirius huffed, swiping his hair out of his face only for it to fall right back as he shook his head in dumbfounded disbelief for the display they'd walked in on. "Slughorn must have known that wasn't going to scare off Dumbledore. Why even was he?"

"What are the odds Dumbledore will actually ask? That would actually be helpful," Remus snipped.

Sirius made a face at him but otherwise ignored his mood, hoping it would pass for good sooner rather than later. This seemed less likely the longer Dumbledore stayed in Harry's company.

The furniture flew back to its original places; ornaments reformed in midair, feathers zoomed into their cushions; torn books repaired themselves as they landed upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared onto side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks, and holes healed everywhere, and the walls wiped themselves clean.

Dumbledore asked conversationally what kind of blood that was, and only after it was all put away did Horace go over and lift the bottle it now resided in, explaining it was dragon's blood and a bit dusty now, but still usable.

Harry only looked vaguely curious what you even used dragon blood for, dusty or otherwise, but was long since used to now of the magical world and didn't feel the need to question details. He'd had some past generalizations it could be useful, that was good enough.

He set the bottle back on the sideboard and sighed. It was then that his gaze fell upon Harry.

Dumbledore was quick to make an introduction, Harry Potter to Horace Slughorn.

They hadn't any real doubts before the last name was confirmed, every aspect of this man spoke volumes of their old teacher.

Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd.

"You think he'd be grateful, Harry got into his clutches earlier than the train," Sirius said blandly, Harry giving him a sideways look for that odd comment.

He accused Dumbledore if this was his ploy, it wasn't going to work, he still didn't want to go back to that school. Dumbledore said if that was his answer, then so be it. Couldn't they at least share a drink first?

Slughorn clearly only grudgingly agreed, and Dumbledore escorted Harry to a chair in the center of the room, so that when Slughorn turned back around his eyes fell right back on Harry.

"Err," Harry uttered aloud when no one in here seemed remotely surprised by this.

"Oh, Slughorn's going to be all kinds of fun for you," James rolled his eyes, clearly thinking this was explanation enough.

Lily clearly knew it wasn't, but honestly wasn't even sure how to explain to Harry her old teachers, tendencies, with the students. No matter how she tried to phrase it in her head, it sounded far more rotten than the ambitious man deserved in keeping connections with the wizarding world. So she kept her silence and gave her son an encouraging smile, telling him, "you'll understand in a few moments I'm sure."

Harry shrugged, deciding to take this in stride, it was better than seeing them worry about his safety anyways.

He averted his eyes at once as if denying himself a treat.

Once drinks were passed around, Dumbledore politely asked how he'd been, and Slughorn at once said he was an elderly old man hardly fit to move nowadays.

Dumbledore was surprised at this, saying it must have taken some spry to pull their welcoming decorations off in what must have been only three minutes.

Sirius at least snickered in appreciation Dumbledore never let these details get past him, just the big things.

Slughorn proudly corrected two. He'd been in the bath when his Intruder Charm went off, had only just put the finishing touches on when they'd come in. It didn't change the fact he deserved his retirement with what few comforts he had.

Lily frowned with some honest sympathy, and agreement. If he wanted to remain in retirement she didn't even blame him, she just wished he would come back purely for the fact Harry would have a good Potions class for one year!

He certainly had those, thought Harry, looking around the room. It was stuffy and cluttered, yet nobody could say it was uncomfortable; there were soft chairs and footstools, drinks and books, boxes of chocolates and plump cushions. If Harry had not known who lived there, he would have guessed at a rich, fussy old lady.

"Nobody said Slughorn isn't that as well," James smirked.

Dumbledore reminded Slughorn wasn't yet as old as him.

Slughorn returned perhaps he should consider retirement as well, eyeing his injured hand.

Dumbledore acknowledged his reflexes were not what they once were, but on the other hand...he trailed off and spread both hands wide, as if saying age had its compensations.

Sirius would never resist bursting out with laughter at such a play on words.

Harry noticed a ring on his uninjured hand that he had never seen Dumbledore wear before: It was large, rather clumsily made of what looked like gold, and was set with a heavy black stone that had cracked down the middle.

Harry's breath caught so hard he looked for a moment like he was choking on something. James reached over and patted him comfortingly. Only all of Harry's combined practice not looking into such a feeling saved him now, but it did not erase the feeling deep within him that only the diary had caused before. That wasn't quite right though...hadn't there been something else, in Sirius' house? It was more than that though, looking around at the four of them, he was so absolutely sure of something to do with the stone in that ring-

He was quite glad his train of thought was interrupted by the man himself, Sirius making a funny little face and asking, "since when did that man wear jewelry?"

Remus was so surprised by the comment, he seemed to forget just for a moment his attitude and reminded Sirius, "you once spent a whole semester going on about getting a nose ring, and only bailed on doing it because Baily got one over Easter break and you, I quote, didn't want anyone to think you were copying him."

Sirius tried to make a face at him, but he was smiling softly at finally getting a normal response from Moony, which didn't stop him scoffing, "I'm not laughing the bloke wanted to wear a ring, I'm saying we've never seen him do it before."

"He's always been prone to gold and plum, so it's really not much of a stretch," James shrugged without much care.

Harry kept frowning at the little passage anyway, quite sure he was missing something, but if the others could just laugh it off he tried to as well.

Slughorn's eyes lingered for a moment on the ring too, and Harry saw a tiny frown momentarily crease his wide forehead.

"See, I'm not the only one who finds it random!" Sirius insisted.

Remus' good mood seemed to vanish as quickly as it had come, now frowning in annoyance Sirius would never let anything go, and refused to add on again.

Dumbledore asked if all of those precautions were indeed for him, or the Death Eaters? Slughorn demanded what would they want with such a self proclaimed old man?

Dumbledore easily summarized he'd be of use to their recruiting.

Remus eyed Lily with a determinedly smug look, and she narrowed her eyes on him without further acknowledgment. That didn't have to mean anything.

Slughorn admitted he hadn't given them the chance to try, he hadn't been in one place longer than a week for more than a year. The Muggles who owned this place were in the Canary Islands, and he'd be sorry to leave again. Though it was easy enough once you got used to it, just use a Freeze Charm on their silly burglar alarms and not let anyone catch you moving in the piano.

"Who moves a piano around once a week?" James seemed baffled. Even the charms that would make moving it around a breeze still seemed far to unneeded for being on the run as he clearly was.

Dumbledore agreed this was ingenious, though unnecessary if he came back where all those comforts would be in one place.

Slughorn did not agree, he'd still heard word of how his teachers were treated, the stories about Dolores Umbridge-

"I don't know what he's on about," Lily shook her head with an indulgent smile. "He knows as well as I do Dumbledore saved her miserable life there at the end."

"Maybe he didn't hear all of it, like how she wound up in the Forest in the first place," James shrugged without much real care, he'd still toss her in there head first and see her never come out.

Dumbledore explained the circumstances of her letting herself into a centaur hoard and calling them filthy half-breeds.

Slughorn then called her an idiotic woman, he'd never liked her.

All of them did get a snicker out of that, wishing more than ever Slughorn had been around instead of Snape all these years. The man did have a good sense of humor, they'd give him that.

Harry chuckled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at him. He apologized at once,

"What you apologizing for?" Sirius demanded. "I'd be up in arms cheering agreement, still considering it honestly."

"I don't like drawing attention to myself," Harry shrugged, as in hindsight it had felt rather rude, though he still couldn't bring himself to regret it.

explaining he hadn't liked her either.

Dumbledore stood up rather suddenly.

Slughorn asked if he was leaving, looking hopeful.

Dumbledore instead asked for the bathroom, and once given directions, excused himself.

Now alone, Slughorn didn't seem to know what to do with himself, so he went to the fireplace to warm his backside and finally took a proper look at Harry.

The first thing he said was he looked very like James Potter-

James still got a proud smirk across his face every time he heard that.

Harry finished in exasperation with his mothers eyes. He'd heard it so often he found it a bit wearing.*

Lily look sobered though, clasping her hands uneasily and whispering, "I can't say I blame you, I wouldn't like much being reminded of us either."

The smile vanished from James like he'd been sucker punched, and his two friends didn't even try to hide their flinch.

Slughorn looked glad for the change of topic, saying Lily Evans had been one of his favorite students.

Then Lily flushed scarlet in surprise, of all the ways to change the subject!

Harry glanced at her with a warm smile, while the boys rolled their eyes without surprise. That had been no more a secret than her friendship with Snivellus.

She'd been one of the brightest witches he'd ever taught, charming girl really! He used to boast all the time she should have been in his house, very cheeky answers he got as well.

Harry looked wildly to her, high hopes in place, and she did not disappoint.

"I think his personal favorite I ever told him was I'd rather slither back into the Muggle world. Of course it was all in good fun, and I often swore he said it just to hear what I'd reply with. Couldn't use the same one twice after all." Despite her initial want of being exactly in Slytherin house, she'd quickly grown fond of the Gryffindor lion and all it represented. Taking as she always did, life in stride and defending her position in her house like any other would.

He burst into surprised laughter while the smile finally lingered on her, she missed the youth of her school years no matter how much she loved her life now. Things had just felt simpler back then.

Harry asked which house he'd been head of, and Slughorn said Slytherin at once, adding on for Harry not to make that face.

All five Gryffindors couldn't help a small little smirk for something so ingrained in them.

He supposed he was a Gryffindor like his family then, that often happened, though not always. Ever heard of Sirius Black?

Sirius choked and looked likely to thump Slughorn for bringing that up, again!

Been in the papers a bit the last few years, died a few weeks ago,

"Lets just bring it all up again! We're on a roll! Shall we start alphabetically, or in the levels of how bloody screwed up it all is!"

"Sirius," James tried to quietly restrain, but his best mate looked likely to go on the warpath and hardly even noticed. Mentioning this how many times in a row was one too many, considering every one of them looked likely to set everyone he cared about now into a fit of their own!

Remus took a careful breath, but finally made the conscious decision to push his feelings aside and look over at him, leaning over and muttering for him alone.

Sirius eyed him for a while, looking more like he was being pestered than anything, but James was far to used to this and Harry was more than grateful to take the opportunity to keep going and try to pretend like he wasn't being strangled with emotion.

he'd been a Gryffindor as well. His younger brother Regulus had been in Slytherin when he'd come along, and he'd have liked the set.

Lily made an odd, tittering noise like she was trying to laugh again, that growing harder the more often this kept being thrown in their faces.

Evans had been Muggle-born of course, and he hadn't believed it when he'd heard. She was so good Slughorn had at first thought she was joking she wasn't a pure-blood.

Lily had heard this often enough too, she'd had plenty to say about this as well, but Harry was successfully not talking about the mention of his godfather anymore, not being forced to relive his absence once more for just a few brief moments, so she held her tongue for the first time in her life regarding mention of that.

Harry coolly stated one of his best friends was Muggle-born, and she was the best in their year.

Slughorn looked surprised at the tone, correcting Harry's presumption he'd just said Evans had been one of his favorite students, along with Dirk Cresswell the year after.

Lily smiled slightly for the mention of him, he'd been a cute little kid, always friendly with everyone, and though only a year younger than her he never seemed to outgrow that baby faced charm.

He was now head of the Goblin Liaison Office, shared all of the goings-on at Girngotts with him.

Then her smile widened in surprise. She hadn't been keeping up with him after school, but was unsurprised to hear he made something of himself, he'd already been fluent in Gobbledygook in their seventh year of school.

Slughorn launched into a whole spiel of his past kids, all now well off in life and making something of themselves, all still remembering their old teacher and where they'd gotten their start with plenty of gifts and chats whenever he liked.

Lily's smile only widened with nostalgia upon each name. While the Slug Club had been formed by Slughorn to create the mass of up and coming talented and promising future of wizards, Lily had never grown close to many of them, considering Sev had always mocked the meetings more than anything and for a time Lily had laughed along. By the time she'd grown distant from him, many of the members had taken to looking down on her like she once had done to them and had never quite melded into the ranks of being friends. Still, she was ecstatic to hear so many soared up in life, no matter the bitter taint it was she'd never been give the chance to do the same.

This thought seemed to cheer him up enormously.

Harry was surprised they still did this, he could not help wondering why the Death Eaters had not yet tracked down Slughorn if hampers of sweets, Quidditch tickets, and visitors craving his advice and opinions could find him.

The four had honestly been so distracted with an abundance of news for the future of people they'd known in school, they hadn't quite caught up to Harry's line of thinking, but now he said it, that was a good point. It was almost laughable not to picture Slughorn in the center of the room milking with the best.

The smile slid from Slughorn's face as quickly as the blood from his walls. He corrected he hadn't spoken to anyone in over a year of course.

Harry had the impression that the words shocked Slughorn himself; he looked quite unsettled for a moment. Then he shrugged. Saying the prudent wizard knew to keep their head down in these times, and returning to Dumbledore's school would be tantamount to declaring himself apart of the Order of the Phoenix.

"I didn't know that was public," James made a face. So much for their secret organization, but he also supposed, it almost made sense for Dumbledore to declare their was a resistance out there fighting back Voldemort. The public would need something as big as that in the future where the man had come out of nowhere, as opposed to their own time where a sense of quiet had been needed to retain their efforts to fight back without drawing attention.

They were admittedly admirable and brave, but he didn't much fancy the mortality rate.

All five of them turned white for such a callus statement, considering he wasn't exactly wrong with only one being left alive from this room.

Harry corrected you didn't have to join the Order to be a teacher, but could not quite keep a note of derision out of his voice: It was hard to sympathize with Slughorn's cosseted existence when he remembered Sirius, crouching in a cave and living on rats.

"Thanks for the reminder Harry," Sirius honestly tried for a chipper tone again, "it's far more pleasant to think of than being in that house."

Most of the teachers weren't. In fact the staff was probably safer than anyone having Dumbledore around, he was the only one Voldemort feared.

Slughorn gazed into space for a moment or two: He seemed to be thinking over Harry's words.

"You make a good negotiator," Lily praised with a smile. Harry had instantly grasped the best way to appeal to someone just by one small conversation and a look around his house. "Maybe you're wasted as an Auror anyways, that's an excellent skill for a politician."

Harry made a face of disagreement, though not quite derision as he knew his mother was trying to invest in the same, it just couldn't hold much good for him with all the horrible ways he'd seen it handled.

Slughorn agreed, almost to himself, that by not joining You-Know-Who there weren't very many other outcomes.

Dumbledore soon returned from the bathroom. Slughorn asked what had taken him so wrong, even sounding concerned if he had an upset stomach.

Dumbledore replied no, he'd merely been enjoying the knitting patterns,

"Wonder if he shares those with Hagrid," Harry said softly to himself with a fond smile.

but decide it was time to leave, he knew a lost cause when he saw one. Slughorn seemed agitated. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched the two now prepare to leave.

"Harry did it!" James pumped his fist with pure jubilation. He didn't care if he didn't receive a reason for the replacement, this was honestly the best start to his school year yet!

"Not at all surprised," Sirius preened with joy for his little godson, even gearing up for the next two years of his school life being hounded into joining an elite club for dunderheads.

Just as they reached the door Slughorn shouted after them he'd do it!

Dumbledore beamed with pleasure and thanked him kindly, though he didn't make it to the curb before Slughorn also shouted he wanted a pay raise for this.

All five of them got a giggle out of that, they wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore heard that a dozen times a year from every teacher. Last year in particular, though all the money in the world couldn't have made those teachers want to stay with the toad on premises.

As they were walking away, Dumbledore thanked Harry for his help, who was surprised, saying he hadn't done anything.

"You really don't realize what you did?" Lily asked in surprise.

Harry merely shrugged, he hadn't intentionally done much of anything except carry on half a conversation while trying not to delve into memories both then and now.

Dumbledore corrected he'd reminded, now Professor Slughorn, of what he had to gain for this. How had he liked him?

Harry declined answering. Though he wasn't unpleasant, he'd still seemed far too shocked a Muggleborn made for a good student.

"He's a bit like Alihotsy," Lily did agree. "A fine thing in small doses."

"Something he'll never be able to carry given the size of him," James smirked, not bothering to duck as Lily swatted at him.

Dumbledore chose to answer for him Horace was a fan of fine taste, and he surrounded himself with this in all aspects. Never one to occupy the throne, he preferred the backseat, more room to spread about.

"That seems a bit dull," Sirius had never grasped this, he'd always thought Slughorn was one who did all this so that he could be in the limelight more.

"To each their own, at least he's never caused any real harm in doing it," James shrugged.

He was known for handpicking students who went onto great things, and none forgot who connected them all.

Harry had a sudden and vivid mental image of a great swollen spider, spinning a web around it, twitching a thread here and there to bring its large and juicy flies a little closer.

"Honestly a rather perfect analogy," Lily crinkled up her nose.

Dumbledore told Harry of this not to turn him him against Horace, but merely warn him the Professor would spare no expense in trying to collect Harry as well, the perfect piece being the Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One.

At these words, a chill that had nothing to do with the surrounding mist stole over Harry. He was reminded of words he had heard a few weeks ago, words that had a horrible and particular meaning to him: Neither can live while the other survives . . .

Despite the warmth, and miracle of his parents on his sides, a room with a bright cheery fire and the promise of an actual future of his childhood, still Harry could not shake that chill anymore. He couldn't look at any of them, he wouldn't. They'd made their position on that very clear, but what if they were wrong. What if that was Harry's destiny? What would they think of him if he couldn't avoid it? Choosing to ignore the many scoffs and frowns, he tried to reach the end of this in an almost desperate way.

They'd walked far enough, and Dumbledore chose to have them Apparete the rest of the way to the Burrow, his second favorite place in the world. Upon arriving, the landscape from before vanished into the profile of the crooked house, with gentle hills lolling around. Inside was his best friend Ron, and his mother who could cook better than anyone.

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts and asked Harry for one more private word in the Weasley's broomshed.

"Was going inside their broomshed really necessary?" James looked genuinely puzzled at this train of thought. "They're on safe ground, if he has a fear of being overheard he should have done it before going there, and it's not like anyone there's untrustworthy."

They all shrugged for such a random decision, Remus even adding in a scoff and another mutter of Dumbledore trying to make everything about him oh so important. Seemed his moment of focusing on anything else had ended already, and Sirius shifted uneasily for his friend's continued mood.

A little puzzled, Harry followed Dumbledore through the creaking door into a space a little smaller than the average cupboard.

"The dimensions of one he'd know all to well," James spat.

Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand, so that it glowed like a torch, and smiled down at Harry.

He spoke in hopes Harry would forgive him, but he could not deny how pleased, and proud he was of how Harry had been coping after the events in the Ministry.

Harry closed his eyes tight, wishing more than anything right now this book would stop punching him in the heart. He still had trouble distinguishing the Sirius he'd lost and the one in this room, it helped nothing this just kept being brought up!

He wasn't the only one, he knew the others felt sick to their souls at the constant reminder, now more than five times this morning alone! The only thing holding them together was the thought they were now barely clinging to, they had to change this! Now for even more than Harry's sake, and that had been enough already.

He knew Sirius would have been proud.

Sirius had to swallow carefully to make sure his voice didn't crack when he told, "well he's certainly not wrong on that one."

Harry smiled at once, a warmth pouring up through him he was almost afraid to acknowledge in fear it would vanish as well. It had not escaped his notice he'd spent more time with his godfather these past few days here than he ever had in his own time.

Harry swallowed; his voice seemed to have deserted him. He did not think he could stand to discuss Sirius; it had been painful enough to hear Uncle Vernon say his godfather was dead, and even worse to hear Sirius's name thrown out casually by Slughorn.

'And then Dumbledore, knowing this, brings it up for a third time!' It took everything Remus had not to shout that at the top of his lungs, he couldn't look at any of them in fear he would, so instead his eyes tracked Lily's cat creeping back into the room, already purring contently as if just finishing his breakfast and looking for a comfortable lap to curl up on.

Dumbledore continued softly how cruel it was the two of them had such a short time together, ending what should have been a long and happy relationship.

James still remembered, back to just days ago and wishing for much the same, and hating himself just as much for that wish now more than ever. Like the ancient myth, the prize always dangling just above their head, never to be reached.

Harry nodded, his eyes fixed resolutely on the spider now climbing Dumbledore's hat. He could tell that Dumbledore understood, that he might even suspect that until his letter arrived, Harry had spent nearly all his time at the Dursleys' lying on his bed, refusing meals, and staring at the misted window, full of the chill emptiness that he had come to associate with dementors.

Lily was shivering so much in place she looked like she had the flu. Blame, fault, and any number of things lost on what made this come true, all she knew was she despised this world that had left her son in such a state, and would do anything in her power to change it.

Harry finally spoke what had constantly been on his mind that whole time, that it was hard to realize Sirius would never write to him again.

His eyes burned suddenly and he blinked. He felt stupid for admitting it, but the fact that he had had someone outside Hogwarts who cared what happened to him, almost like a parent, had been one of the best things about discovering his godfather . . . and now the post owls would never bring him that comfort again. . . .

Remus felt like his throat was going to fail him he made such a cracking noise, and in a flash of understanding they realized what was bothering him so much. Not really even Dumbledore, no matter how much he was trying to push that.

Harry couldn't stop himself glancing at him, a thousand questions he'd never get answered from him. Remus had never in his time done anything to show he cared for Harry on the same level as Sirius had, and did little to suggest that would change. Now that Sirius was back out of the picture, he wouldn't even be that surprised if Lupin faded entirely back out of his life, he certainly had grown closer to Remus now than he ever had in his future, just like Sirius. The idea wouldn't sit right though, he was suddenly certain he'd see his old Professor again. It involved something very important in his life, he was sure of that.

Of course, he well could have ruined that relationship then and now, near constantly taking his anger out on him of late. Hating to go off of one solitary feeling, but refusing to let the awkward silence linger and let him continue to blame himself when he knew he deserved it so much more, he promised, "I don't know how, or why, but we see each other again Remus."

Remus hardly looked convinced, already in his mind it was too little too late, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Harry and call him out for more either. He was only afraid he'd find him simply stretching something along, there was no real truth in it, so missed his and his two friends' looks as Harry continued.

Dumbledore agreed Sirius had represented much that Harry had never known-

Harry cut him off that he'd realized he couldn't shut himself away! He had to make something of his life, or what happened to Sirius would be for nothing. He'd take out any Death Eater and Voldemort along the way while that happened!

He spoke with such power and conviction, it was world bending to the four of them that little infant still asleep in his crib turned into such a powerful wizard, his very being promising right then he held up to this statement. They'd already shown how proud they were of him, how much they believed this themselves from the very first day they'd met him, and couldn't find words to show anymore how much they'd help him along the way in whatever form that took.

Hickory chose that moment to pounce onto Harry, who startled and made a little squealing noise of surprise as the cat landed, ahem, directly in his lap. This still couldn't entirely ruin the pride he'd seen in his father and godfather for a moment, but did accomplish making them all laugh more from shock than anything. The cat didn't care what noise had just been made, he began needing his claws into Harry's thigh still purring like an engine.

Lily leaned over and scooped her cat away, tisking in his ear and unable to wipe a smile from her own proud face, same as everyone else.

Dumbledore agreed spoken like Harry's true lineage would have to say.

Neither of them would ever let anyone speak for them, so the two also took their chance and assured Harry of how true that was.

He'd take his hat off to him, or he would if he hadn't wanted to cover him in spiders.

"Does being aware of the spiders make them better, or worse?" Sirius muttered.

Then he changed the subject to confirming Harry had told no one of the Prophecy they'd heard.

Harry agreed, and Dumbledore gently said it may be time to share this with someone outside this broomshed, that being Ron and Hermione.

Remus made a mocking little laugh, muttering snidely, "oh, good to know he trusts a couple of teenagers with information, he did learn his lesson."

Sirius sighed heavily and rubbed at his nose, but restrained himself from agreeing with Remus with great difficulty.

Harry was startled, but Dumbledore was insistent, he needed his friends, as he himself had just said, Sirius would not want him to shut himself away.

Lily grasped his shoulder in reassurance, trying to convince herself now Harry would have told them given his own chance to. James just scoffed with utter confidence he would have anyways, Harry trusted his friends the same way he did, and it was honestly a miracle he'd held it in this long.

Harry said nothing, but Dumbledore did not seem to require an answer. He continued instead Harry would be taking private lessons with him this year.

Sirius made a couple of colorful noises from shock, while Remus just raised a disbelieving brow. "So long as it's not more Occlumency training."

Lily wanted to disagree, they still hadn't a concrete answer on that and not everyone had been begging for that last year. She still hoped other alternatives were being looked into, but for now that one was the only one with even a hint of helping him and she wished it hadn't all been blown off because of Snape.

James ignored the biting comment, honestly because he agreed, and told Harry, "will you ever cease to amaze me? You end up doing all of the most fascinating things without trying."

"You are being ridiculous," Sirius rolled his eyes. "Who wants to spend more time with a teacher? Let alone the headmaster."

"You're technically spending time with a future teacher, spent the past dozen years of your life doing it in fact," Lily pointed out in hopes of giving Remus a chance to smile again.

It did the opposite, he scowled hatefully at her and snapped, "don't pretend any of this is set, or all of it will be!"

All three Potters gave him a sharp look for that tone, while Sirius elbowed him, hard. "Enough Moony, let Harry finish," then he finished with a low mutter at him, "before you say something you'll really regret."

Remus chose not to answer, and Harry shifted uneasily as he tried to keep going with the last page.

Harry eagerly asked for what, but Dumbledore gave no real answer.

"Informative," James muttered, though this did nothing to lessen their curiosity no matter his vagueness of it now. They certainly had plenty to look forward to this year at least.

Harry uneasily asked if this meant he'd also have to keep taking Occlumency lessons with Snape?

"I believe you were told never to come back to that office," Sirius reminded. "Abuse that to it's full might."

"Especially because he doesn't have one anymore," Remus could still smirk for that no matter the petulant tone.

"Or keep extending it to never going near him again, no matter what Dumbledore says," James agreed sharply.

Dumbledore corrected Professor Snape, and no he would not.

Lily bit at her lip curiously for the correction, surly Dumbledore still wouldn't have corrected him if he weren't a teacher there anymore as a replacement would suggest.

"Hopefully because he's gone," Sirius said with pure wistfulness, though he wished more than anything Dumbledore would have confirmed it right then.

Dumbledore agreed they had been, fiasco was a good word.

All four of them scoffed at an almost kind description of that while Harry gave a light chuckle.

Saying this meant he wouldn't be seeing much of Snape at all this year then, considering he hadn't made an O in his Potions OWL.

"But Slughorn doesn't care about that!" James prodded Harry happily until he full blown smiled at this news as well. "You could still take the class, continue your training to be an Auror if you really wanted to!"

"He'd be a bit behind," Sirius rolled his eyes, "considering he never learned anything the previous five years. I swear he only made it through that class through his own studies and sheer dumb luck Snape didn't poison him."

"Dumbledore wouldn't just say oh he couldn't be there this year," Lily sighed, wondering why he must always beat around every single solitary bush.

Dumbledore corrected not to count his OWL's before they arrived, which incidentally, would be later today.

Now the last two things, first, he was to keep his Invisibility Cloak on him at all times, no matter what, from now on. Just in case.

"Forbidding," Sirius drew the word out uneasily.

"Call backs," James corrected with an uneasy smile.

Harry agreed, and Dumbledore passed on his last word. While he was here, the Burrow had been set up with every bit of magical protection that could be offered. This was putting a hardship on the Weasleys, whose every bit of mail was being checked. They did not mind in the slightest, out of concern for him, but it would be a poor repayment of their hospitality for him to risk his neck while in their company.

"What's he to be telling you that," James couldn't help but grouse. "He's been going there for years already without him giving an okay for it."

"Take the extra security and be grateful for the stupid warning," Lily sighed.

Harry quickly agreed to this as well, and Dumbledore said that was all. Now they should go greet Molly, who shouldn't have to go another moment to deplore how thin Harry was.

Harry finished his chapter, but closed it almost gently, as if he was afraid the slightest noise would set off Remus into taking his head off next.

HPHPHPHP

*Fun random note, Sirius nor Remus ever actually told this to Harry, the two people who you'd think were most likely to.

**It's literally fixing to happen ten chapters later in this book, and still JK couldn't give any hint or even a name drop of Ginny? Just a couple more lines? Harry giving a roll call of her and Mr. Weasley, even the twins wouldn't have been that out there. Sorry, I'll go into this more in a few chapters, just couldn't resist pointing this out.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Twenty Six

“Malfoy?” Ron repeats, “what about him Harry? What about Hermione?” He pleads. 

“It was her, it was Hermione.” He clarified. 

“But I thought-“ Neville starts. 

“It’s Voldemort, our connection or whatever. Hermione is the one who did it this time. She brought me up, he thought of me, and well.” He explained with a shiver. 

“But I thought he warned her. Said someone would d- someone would get hurt if she did that again.” Ron asked worriedly, not wanting to even think about Hermione and death together. 

Harry reluctantly nods, “I know but she had to tell me something.” 

“What was it?” Neville asked. 

“Malfoy. That was all she said, it was like, it was like she couldn’t speak properly. She sounded so...” he shivered, not willing himself to finish, “but that means I was right Ron, Malfoy, he’s got something to do with all this.” Though Draco wasn’t specifically mentioned, Harry was desperate to push his theory. 

Shockingly, Ron didn’t protest, “Look, Harry, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you.” 

The chosen one eyed him, silently imploring himself to go on. 

“Well, since we’ve been back at school I reckon you might be right.” 

“Why?” Harry asks. 

“That day on the train, during the Prefect’s meeting, Malfoy told Katie Bell that Hermione was ‘taking some time away with her family’,” he air quoted, “at first I thought maybe he just heard us, I dunno, but then I started having these dreams.” 

“The ones that’ve been waking you up?” Neville cut in. 

Ron nodded, “yeah, I mean I know it’s just a dream, but every time it starts with Malfoy telling me he knows something about Hermione. That along with his fathers track record, your suspicions, and now this, well...” 

“We need to check his room.” Harry said, like it was simple. 

“What? Harry, are you mental? How in the hell would we swing that.” Ron cried out. 

“No, listen,” he stands from the floor, causing the other two to rise, “we know where the entrance is from second year. We’ll make sure Malfoy is on rounds. I’ll have the map to see if anyone’s coming. We’ll be under my cloak.” Harry explains. 

“Yeah and what about his roommates? Or the password?” Ron asks. 

“He bunks with who? Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle? Well, there has to be a night Quidditch and rounds meet, yeah? We’ll do it then. Neville, you can stay on the pitch just in case.” Harry looks at him. 

Neville nods. Sure, he hasn’t got the full story on what happened, but he’s willing to help anyway he can. 

“Fine.” Ron agreed, only doing this for Hermione and not to entertain Harry’s theory, “when?” 

“I don’t know whenever it works with the Quidditch schedule and rounds.” 

“Here, I have the schedule. I need to know when the pitch is free to practice flying.” Neville admits sheepishly as he searches his trunk for the parchment, “here it is!” 

He hands it over to Harry as Ron grabs the prefect’s schedule. They hold the two sheets side by side, Neville over their shoulder. 

Ron meets his friend's eyes, “tomorrow.” 

...

The three wake early the next morning to go to the Great Hall. There, they work out their final details of the plan, like they did until late last night. 

Harry’s original thought was pretty solid, so it was all just building off that. 

“Alright, after dinner. Six.” Harry reminds again. 

The pair nod. 

“It’s kind of exciting to be a part of this. Is it always this exhilarating?” Neville whispered. 

A small smile found its way across the pair's face, “no.” They answered simultaneously. 

Surprisingly, the notion of having a third person that wasn’t Hermione didn’t bother Ron that much. Simply because it was Neville. 

It’s not like he was replacing her, he was helping out for her. It was something he admired, he knew she would too. 

As Ron stretched and got ready for class, he didn’t notice McGonagall approaching. 

“Mister Weasley.” She called, making him go stalk still. 

“Good morning Professor.” He tried. 

She ignored it, but didn’t yell at him for yesterday either, “the Headmaster requests your presence. The password is cockroach clusters.” 

He gulps. He thinks he’d rather face McGonagall’s wrath than get a talking to by Dumbledore. 

She looks him in the eyes, “I’m going to assume you had good reason for that stunt in the common room yesterday.” She whispers, looking at his black eye, cut cheek, and fat lip from under her glasses. 

He nods quickly. 

“Hm. Longbottom. Potter. Good day.” She says before walking away. 

The pair looked to the redhead. Harry clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Well mate, good luck. Just be done by six, yeah?” He teased. 

“Not funny Harry.” He groaned. 

“Hey, if what just happened is any indication of anything, it’s that McGonagall trusts you. Dumbledore too, remember what he told you at the Burrow.” Their eyes meet briefly. 

The prospect of Horcruxes has been rattling around his brain for weeks, but they promised to bring it up. 

“You’re right, I’ll just tell the truth.” Ron half agrees, turning to leave. 

“Good luck!” He hears Neville call. 

Slowly Ron dredged his way to Dumbledore’s office. A bit scared for what was to come. He didn’t think the man would tell and scream, no, instead he’d give him some confusing life lesson. One that would have him thinking and analyzing it for weeks. 

He’d rather be screamed at. 

“Cockroach clusters.” He told the statue.

In response it twisted into a coiled staircase. Taking a deep breath, Ron climbed it. Soon, he found himself staring at Dumbledore’s back. 

As he opened his mouth to say hello, he was cut off. 

“Ah Ronald, good morning.” The old man said, turning and giving him a small smile. 

“Good morning sir.” Ron responded nervously. 

“The clouds are out today, but you see there,” he points out his window at a single beam of light, “the sun will surely push its way through by the end of the day. Preserve.” He comments. 

Unsure what to say, Ron simply nods. 

Finally, he turns, “do you know why I’ve called you here?” 

Weasley gulped, “I may have a guess...” 

“News travels fast in this castle. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” 

“No sir.” Ron agrees. 

“You’ve been through a great deal Ronald, today, I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt. Violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, but I assume you have good reason.” He says knowingly. 

“Yes sir, I believe I do.” He says honestly. 

“I’m interested to hear.” 

“Well, I didn’t witness it myself and I never uh got the chance to ask her, but I have it on good authority.” He pauses, “from Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Harry,” Ron cites, “that Cormac McLaggen was inappropriate to Hermione the night of Professor Slughorn’s Christmas Party. That and he began making out of line comments about her, I just, well, I wanted to feel like I was doing something.” He says the last word almost as a cry. 

Dumbledore sighs, “I know how you feel Ron.” 

He shakes his head before he can help himself, “no you don’t.” 

Dumbledore would laugh had it been any other situation. It’s almost astounding how similar him and Harry are as he is reminded of their conversation after Sirius’ death. 

“Maybe not, but you’re not the first person I’ve seen struggle with being away from a loved one.” He tells him. 

Again, Weasley shakes his head, “no, this, this hurt is different.” He admits, “I’ve lost people, take Percy for example. Sure I miss him, but with Hermione, it’s a different kind of missing. It’s like, it’s like nothings the same. Like it’s not worth it.” Ron doesn’t know why he feels the need to be so honest. 

“You can’t let this hurt consume you. Your job is to channel that into something else. Something Hermione would’ve liked. Your prefect rounds, your work, Harry. You and I both know she would not approve of her punching Cormac McLaggen, no matter the situation.” 

And he was right, Ron knew he was, but it was so hard. These past twelve hours of confiding in Neville and Harry about Malfoy. About finally coming up with something to help, it felt good. It felt right. 

“You’re right sir.” He agreed. 

“I’m glad we can see eye to eye Ronald. On these dark days, I would like you to remember that the sun always comes out again.” He steps forward and whispers, “I have it on good authority all is being done for your friend. Remember that. Remind Harry of that.” 

Unable to answer, or even protest, he nods. 

Dumbledore was right, finally, him and Harry were doing what they could to help Hermione. 

“Now, I’d hate to keep you from your lessons. Good day Mister Weasley.” The old man smiled, turning back to the window, stroking Fawkes. 

“But sir, aren’t you going to...” Ron started confused. 

“Punish you? Is that what you want?” He questions with a quirked brow. 

“No!” Ron jumps in. 

“Mister McLaggen will be dealt with accordingly. Please don’t make it routine practice to start brawls in my common room.”

“Of course sir. It won’t happen again.” 

“Good.” Dumbledore smiles, “but if anyone asks, you have a week of detention with Professor McGonagall.” The Headmaster winks. 

A smile strikes Ron’s face at his words. “Thank you so much.”

He shakes his head, “for what?” 

Ron laughs. 

“Good day Mister Weasley. Please remember what I said.” 

In response Ron nodded and bid the old man goodbye before vanishing down the stairs. 

Once reaching the bottom he sighed, now all he had to do was get through classes, then it’d be time to put operation what the fuck does Malfoy know in action. 

...

Thankfully, six o’clock came faster than Ron thought it would. He figured all this anxious waiting around would drive him mad and slow time. But it hadn’t. 

“Alright Neville, whatever you do keep them at Quidditch. Practice is supposed to last an hour, we shouldn’t be longer than that, but just in case. We’ll find you when we’re done.” Harry told him one last time. 

He nodded, “got it.” 

“Malfoy should have started rounds a little bit ago, come on.” Ron prodded. 

“Okay, good luck Neville.” Harry said. 

“Good luck to you guys too. I won’t let you down. I won’t let Hermione down.” He assures in a whisper. 

The pair nods in response. They know he won’t. They’re not planning to either. 

As Neville disappeared down the corridor, Harry soon skimmed the map, finding Draco’s dot wandering by the Charms room. 

“Let’s go, we’ll cut through the courtyard.” Harry said, throwing the cloak over them. They had to huddle to fit, but it worked. 

Soon enough, they successfully reached the dungeons, only seeing Missus Norris once, but she just pranced by, not noticing them. 

“Alright, we’ll just wait until someone says the password.” Harry whispered. 

It took five minutes, but soon enough they saw Millicent Bulstrod’s dot move closer to them. 

“Sacred Twenty-Eight.” She told the stone. 

Ron scowled at the password. 

Soon enough it opened up as she went though. 

“If we hurry we can sneak in with her, come on!” Harry said lowly. 

Thankfully, the noise of the moving stone masked their footsteps as they snuck in behind Millicent, nearly budging into her. 

She didn’t notice though, as she disappeared up a staircase. 

“Other one must be the boys.” Ron pointed out, already moving to the leftward staircase. 

Nodding, Harry dredged on. Luckily, like Gryffindor Tower, each of the dorms with a sign indicating the year, ranging from one to seven. 

Soon, their eyes fell on the one labeled ‘Sixth Years’, it was slightly ajar. Before entering, the pair glanced briefly to the map in Harry’s hands, being extra cautious to ensure they were alone. 

They pushed open the wooden door, cringing as it squeaked on its hinges, they surveyed the area carefully before fully stepping in. Once inside, they threw off the cloak as Harry took the liberty to cast a locking charm, all while Ron caused a ‘muffalito’. 

The room was identical to their own dorms, but all red had been replaced with green and gold swapped with silver. 

“Which do you think is his?” Ron whispered despite silencing the room. 

The chosen one eyes the four poster beds carefully. The one closest to the door is messier than he thought imaginable. The blankets tossed on the ground and the sheets of specks of something on them. 

The next one isn’t as bad, the blankets are ruffled and the pillows are skewed, but the bedside table is reasonably clean. However, the image of a scantily clad witch peeking out from beneath the blanket is very visible. 

The quidditch posters and personal photos tacked onto a board over the third bed can only confirm it belongs to Blaise Zabini. 

And if Ron and Harry were placing bets, there’s  no doing the last one belongs to one Draco Malfoy. His bed is neatly made. Though his space isn’t as personal as Blaise’s, there’s a stack of books and parchment neatly organized on the side table. A ring rests on top of the pile, one they’ve seen Draco bear many times before. 

“I didn’t really fancy Malfoy to be all tidy.” Ron commented. 

“Really?” Harry asked, shocked, objection on his lips about how well Draco dressed being indicated as much. 

Like his friend could sense it, he shook his head, “no just because a bloke can clean up nice, doesn’t make them neat. Fred and George have pretty nice robes, but you’ve seen their room.” He reminded. 

Harry monetarily shivered at the thought. He wouldn’t even be remotely shocked if something was growing under the twins beds. 

As the dark haired boy was monetarily lost in thought, Ron stepped closer to the vantage point and eyed the table carefully. 

“I reckon one things out of place, he’ll know.” He states. 

Harry nods in agreement, “how about you start   in the drawers, I’ll do his trunk.” 

Weasley agreed and began carefully filing through the stacks of parchment. Most of it seemed to be nothing but graded assignments along with the occasional letter from home. 

All were only from his mother. They were short and not at all telling of anything. 

Just simple things like, 

Hope you’re doing well. I miss you son. 

I’ve sent a few galleons for your Hogsmeade visit next week, have fun. Love you. 

I’m going to pick you up from the platform on Saturday. I can’t wait to see you! Mum. 

And if the correspondents weren’t between those with the last name Malfoy, Ron might even think they were sweet. 

Harry had also been having similar luck to Ron. Draco’s trunk was an endless amount of clothes and shoes, really nothing that raised eyebrows. 

He peered over to see Ron skimming through the pages of a book. 

“Anything?” The Boy-Who-Lived asked hopefully. 

He shook his head, “no, just something for that Dark Arts essay on centaurs magical properties I reckon.” 

In response Potter groaned. They’ve been here nearly ten minutes. 

“Okay, how about I check the bed and you check under it?” He suggested next. 

Ron was about to protest to say that he doubts Draco would leave some big bad clue under his pillow, but they figured no stone should be left unturned. 

Complying, Ron ducked down to the floor and he heard Harry ruffling Draco’s sheets. 

A pair of shoes under the bed, along with an old sock. A chocolate frog under his pillow. That was it. 

As Harry began to work on lifting the mattress, they could vaguely hear the crunching of stone echo inside the quiet room. 

Both jumped, Ron hitting his head in the process, before meeting eyes. 

Quickly, Harry grabbed for the map, eyes scanning for Draco’s dot. 

“He’s in the common room!” He stage whispered. 

The ginger jumped and looked to be sure, “complete tosser he is. He’s supposed to be on rounds for another hour, just wait-“ 

“Ron!” It seemed as if he missed Hermione so much he had taken to adapting some of her values as well. 

“You’re right, sorry.” He said before moving to grab the cloak, “come on Harry.” 

As the other boy moved to join him, something caught his eye, “wait.” He said picking up the book on Centaurs. 

“Harry, I already looked like that, let’s go! I hear footsteps.” He said, casting a charm to tidy up Draco’s bed as good as new. 

“It’s not that.” He whispered in response. 

Being that Harry had cut Ron off midway through his investigation on Malfoy’s bedside table, he never got around to the small book hidden underneath the one for class. 

Wizarding Antiques

His mind soon flashes to Draco wandering around Borgin & Burkes months ago. Both Hermione and Ron dismissed it, but this book proves it meant something more. 

“Harry!” Ron stage whispered, having to undo the locking charm so they could leave. However, as he did so, the foot falls only grew louder. 

Mesmerized he ignored Ron, eyeing the cover. Something soon caught his eye. A book Mark sticking out just a little over halfway in the book. 

Eagerly opening it to see whatever Draco has tagged, he stops when he realizes it wasn’t a bookmark. No, it was a photograph. 

Astounded by the sight in front of him, he puts the book down, completely forgetting about his prior task. He’s reminded of why they’re really here. 

Not to confirm what Harry believes to be true, but for Hermione. This picture is telling him as much. Shoving it in his face. 

“Harry, let’s go!” Ron says, tossing the cloak partly over his hunched frame as Draco can be heard conversing with another Slytherin outside the door. 

Harry stands still. He can’t move. He can barely think. 

There’s no way- 

“Harry,” Ron tries again, but soon realizes his friend is completely enthralled in something, “wait, what is it? Did you find something?” Like his friend, he remembers why he’s here. Who he’s here for. 

Ron peeks over his shoulder at the picture. He can’t understand what has Harry in such a state over it. He’s seen it countless times in The Prophet.  

“Hermione.” Is all he can whisper. 

The name of course catches Ron’s attention, but he’s suddenly drawn away by The jerking of the door, making him jump. Thankfully, he’s managed to secure the cloak around Harry and move them closer to the door. However, the picture is still clutched in his hand. 

He holds his breath as Malfoy eyes the room suspiciously. Then it appears something catches his eye. 

He steps forward only centimeters from them. 

Wealsey screws his eyes shut in anticipation. 

It’s over, Merlin it’s all over-

But instead he makes his way over to Goyle’s sneering as he covers up the photo of the nude witch with his pillow. 

Doing his best not to outwardly sigh in relief, Ron takes the distraction to get the hell out, practically dragging Harry with him. 

As they reach the somewhat safe, well, less dangerous area of the Slytherin boys staircase, Ron again takes the time to observe the photo. Harry’s still mesmerized by it, though he can’t see why. And he can’t ask either, at least not until they’re back in Gryffindor tower. 

It’s a picture of Draco sitting in a chair, stoic look on his face. To his left is his mother dressed in elegant black robes, looking regal as ever, hand on her son's shoulder. To his right, his father in the same position. Except, he looks less royal, more worn than anything. 

The pictures on a loop, but they barely move. Just a slight shift in Draco’s father’s feet. A twitch of the youngest Malfoy’s upper lip is somewhat noticeable. 

The only thing that does stand out, is the continuous sparkling of a chandelier glittering above them.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Back to you (Chapter I)

Summary:  Y/N Stark and Peter Parker are unconditionally in love with each other, being friends for years was just the step before making it official. BUT, just the weekend they became official Thanos and the snap happened, leaving Y/N broken: without friends, avengers family or Peter Parker. So, she has to move on, at least that’s what everyone’s telling her and she really tries to do it and who better to help her than Harry Osborn. But, has she really let Peter go? What if Tony Stark -genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist- knows how to bring Peter back? And what happens when he does? Is Y/N going to avenge again? Who’s going to lead the avengers now? Who is she going to choose? Harry or Peter? and who the hell is mysterio? *He doesn’t even go here*

word count: 5.5 k

author’s note: This had to be SOOOO long but I’m really not feeling it like making it longer like I liked it as it is sooo yep. Anyway, this is basically just throwbacks because I think they are important to see the relationship and therefore to understand the impact? Next chapter will be brand new things with a new Y/N that can move on (not really) but we will meet someone super special. 

series masterlist

You felt Peter’s leg behind your right ankle and you swore his eyes glimpsed with a little bit of regret as he swiped your legs from the floor, before you knew it you fell into the grey pad. You tried to regain a little bit of air that had escaped your lips as your shoulder blades hit the floor.

“I don’t like this game”, you groaned as you took a look at Peter who was holding you down by the shoulder.

Natasha was watching you closely, while Steve and Bucky were supervising Wanda and Sam. It was a normal Saturday in the Avengers Compound, you and Peter would drive up from New York in order to train with the others every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and on weekends. It was hard to keep it up, especially since you were still expected to meet all your academic compromises. But being an Avenger was an all-time job, you knew it and chose it.

“You were the one who wanted to train with me today” Peter shrugged as he gave you a sour look.

Peter had a hate-love relationship when it came to train with you, he loved spending time with you, but he knew that you would get frustrated with him:  his spidey-senses always being one-step-ahead of the game and his super strength, plus the fact that he hated seeing you hurt. For that reason, he almost always went up against Steve or Nat, but from time to time he trained with the others as well -mostly you- if you were being honest.

“Peter, stop talking” Nat addressed as she looked down at you two. “You don’t have much time now, stop playing around”

You smirked as Peter gazed up to respond to Nat’s claims, taking the chance you quickly threw a punch at his elbow, quickly destabilizing him and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him away from you and into the floor with the help of your knee on his stomach. Peter groaned as he fell into the floor while seeing you stood up as fast as you could and gazing down at him with a smirk.

“Come on, underoos”, you grinned as you turned around and began running to take the flag that was on the other side of the room.

It could be maddening for you training with Peter, but you liked it. Not only because it made you a better fighter since you had to find a way in order to surprise Peter who had the advantage of having his spidey-senses but also because you liked how competitive you guys could get -and also, you loved how Peter looked with his gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips-. It was somehow thrilling to be at that position with Peter, he was always so soft with you and still when training he was extremely delicate with the amount of force he used for each movement since he was scared of actually hurting you, but he didn’t pull back like he normally did and, for some reason, it gave you goosebumps only thinking about it.

Peter smirked as he used his web-shooters, pointing at your right ankle and then pulling it away, making you fall chest first into the grey pad.

“That’s not fair” You spat as you felt Peter running towards the flag, you glared at him. “If I knew we were going to use our tech, I would’ve worn my suit”

“Stop complaining” Peter answer as he ran.

Peter passed you with a wink as he giggled when you finally stood up, he began increasing his speed as he was approaching the flag, you frowned and began sprinting towards him, getting closer. You really hated running since you were used to flying and your usual training routine was combat fighting but running really wasn’t your thing, the only person who hated running more than you was Peter. He really, really didn’t like to run so when you lunged forward at him, tackling him completely, he wasn’t really surprised.

He fell the first face on the floor with a groaned and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as you grimaced thinking about how much it hurt, still you couldn’t afford the losing time and had to focus on retaining Peter on the floor enough time for you to sprint towards the flag. Quickly, you tried to catch his right arm in order to fold it against his back, but you felt his back muscles contracting to give you enough notice to know he wanted to turn around in order to attack. Before Peter realized, you jumped high enough to avoid him pulling you into the ground like you’ve done, instead as soon as he had changed positions you sat on his lap again, while pinning his right arm with both of yours and his left one with your right foot.

He gazed bug-eyed at your feet on his wrist and then looked up to you smirking down at him and he felt hot by looking at you: your cheeks were blushed from the action and one strand of hair was falling from your ponytail, your chest was shining with sweat and your chest was moving up and down, covered on that black tank top that you usually wore when training.

“Like what you see, Parker?” You muttered as you gazed down at him and he couldn’t avoid the crimson red appearing on his cheek as his gazed linked again with your Y/E/C eyes.

But he could only remain silent and you felt electricity running through your body as his eyes pierced yours.

RINGGGG!

The alarm went off, snapping you from the moment and you stood up from the pad as quickly as you could, looking down at the floor and simply clearing your throat while Peter stood up, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

Nat walked towards you, a deadpan look on her eyes as she placed her hands on her hips while she observed you quietly.

“It’s not funny anymore when you train without completing the mission,” Nat told you as you looked at her with your arms behind your back. It was actually the third time this week you hadn’t completed the task and it was finally getting under her skin.

“We are sorry, we didn-” Peter muttered as he placed a hand behind his back while he gazed at the Black Widow watching them with disappointment on her eyes.

“No, no more excuses” Nat remarked as she crossed her arms over her chest while breathing deeply. “You need to stop this, or you will not train together anymore since you’ve proven you can’t leave your flirty banter behind”

And that’s when your mouth dropped as you blinked faster than usual while looking at Natasha. Peter, on the other hand, wished that the earth could swallow him right there, he wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“What?” You snapped in disbelief.

“Oh yeah, the sexual tension can be felt from the other side of the room” Wanda added excitedly with a smirk while her, Bucky, Sam and Steve walked towards you.

“Language” Steve stated while he looked at her while shaking his head.

“Oh my god, stop”, you muttered as you covered your face with your hands, rolling your eyes as Wanda snickered with Sam. “It’s nothing like that, right Peter?”

It was the only thing you could think about in order to let it go, but Peter remained quiet for a few seconds more than you anticipated. You spun around to see a red widen eyed Peter looking at the floor, he was trying so hard not to look at you, fearing he will get more blushed if he saw you.

The truth was, Peter had a crush on you since day one. When Tony Stark appeared on his house, without previous notice, eating Aunt May’s burn cookies and telling him that he was being recruited, he thought his life couldn't possibly get more twisted. But he didn’t know what was coming, he didn’t know that at the moment he would arrive at the Avengers Building, his world would be turned around by another 16-year-old girl, no other than Tony Stark’s daughter.

He remembered it so vividly: your laugh, it had completely pulled him out from his conversation with Tony, who was showing him around the labs of the Avengers Tower, he turned around immediately and looked around -he actually didn’t know what intrigued him so much about it but he just had this urge to know who it came from- he gave a left and then a right and he found you in the middle of the lab. Bruce was helping you fix some gadgets of your first suit, you had built it mostly yourself but sometimes you would ask Bruce or your dad for advice. Bruce had done a stupid joke about ‘what was popping these days’ and you couldn’t help to laugh at how hard he tried with those dad jokes he always got out.

Peter stayed there, watching you for what it felt like an eternity for him before you caught on that someone what’s looking at you and for some reason you didn’t feel panic when you saw this unknown boy watching you, but you smile at him.

“Spider got your tongue kid?” Sam snorted as he watched Peter, who couldn’t get a word out of his mouth and he was starting to get so embarrassed.

You felt your heart thumping on your chest as more time passed without Peter actually saying anything. It had been after about six months of knowing him that you actually knew you fell for him, but it took at least five more to admit it to yourself. Peter had actually been the first real friend you had in your life, you could tell anything to him, you actually felt like he would never leave your side and it was the best feeling but the most terrifying you had. For some reason, maybe mommy issues since she hadn’t actually been there for you, it was hard to let anyone in and hell, being the daughter of Tony Stark didn’t make it easy to let people in. Therefore, it was ten times harder for you to admit that you were unconditionally in love with Peter Parker.

“See what you did? You broke him!”, you barked at the others as you glared at them. “Come on, Peter”, you announced as you held his hand and started walking away from the others.

“I wasn't finished, Y/N” Nat yelled as you got closer to the door.

But you didn’t want to stay there no more, and you didn’t want them to insinuate more things that were making Peter clearly uncomfortable and hurting you when he didn’t reply, was it so bad for him to imagine sexual tension with you?

Six months later you would find out that it wasn’t true, that Peter was more than happy to flirt and have sexual tension with you, but it would all be for nothing because less than a week later he would turn into ashes.                                                           …

“Y/N, Y/N” Tony repeated, the sound was muffled by all the blankets that were covering you. You heard him rumbling in your room, cursing to himself as he might have stepped on some clothes or food. “Y/N wake up”

He was angry, you knew that he was, but the thing was that you didn’t care.

When you saw Peter turning into ashes, you really thought something had just turned off inside of you. To be completely honest, you didn’t remember much after it and you didn’t bother asking your dad when you woke up in a stranded spaceship. Nebula and your dad were trying to fix the ship in order to make it home and you didn’t know if you made it worse, you didn’t want to and you really tried to get focus on helping your dad but you felt mostly numb, it was like you were on a catatonic state, you snapped out from it momentarily when your dad needed help with his wound.

But other than that, everything turned dark, you were sure that if it wasn’t for Carol coming for you, then you wouldn’t have made it longer and the worst thing was that you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

“Y/N I’ve had enough” Tony’s shout woke you up from your thoughts and you uncover yourself from the blankets.

You watched your father’s face contorted as he looked at you, you knew you didn’t look good. You had a dark purple bag under your eyes, the liner and mascara didn’t help much, and he could tell you had been crying -again-, your hair was dull and lifeless, and you were breaking out. But for Tony, the most upsetting thing was your eyes, how they depicted incredible sadness and it hurt his heart seeing you like this.

He hated it.

“What?” You muttered as you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands.

“Y/N I’ve had enough. Enough with the drinking, enough with staying in bed three days in a row, enough with the partying, enough with the drugs. You need to stop”, Tony stated as he looked at you concerned.

You scoffed.

“I don’t do drugs”, was the only thing that came out from your mouth as you decided to look at the hour on your phone, but it was too bright.

“I know you haven’t, but I saw that little bag you have there, and I know you’ve had it for a while”, Tony stated in silence, his eyes were piercing you as you tried to look away.

It was true, you had tried to keep it hidden for a while now. When you were in one of your little adventures, those nights out in one of the clubs still working after the snap, someone had handed them to you and you had been drunk enough just to place them in your back pocket. When you woke up and you saw them, you immediately knew you had to throw them away, but you simply didn’t, you didn’t want to think why.

You remained silent.

“The thing is, Y/N, I used to know you would never use them but now I’m not so sure”, Tony stated a deadpan expression in his face.  

It had honestly been a while since you felt like something actually hit you, that something made you react. You had been feeling numb ever since the snap and you had been especially trying to keep it together as much as you could in front of your dad, hence why you remained distance. You wanted to believe that he or any other remaining Avenger didn’t know you were that bad, you honestly tried but it had gotten worse and worse as the time passed. For you, everyone was trying to get past it, working to fit themselves into this new hopeless world. Especially your dad and Steve who were so resilient because of their past experiences that you felt like you were actually just dragging everyone down.

The only one you thought was feeling the same way was Natasha, but you ended up placing distant again and again because as she tried to let you talk, you couldn’t without feeling the urge to hurl. And so, you had built so high walls around you, around your heart and you simply tried to remain to yourself, tried to keep it together and simply carry your problems somewhere else and numb them as better as you could.

“Dad…”, you whispered, you tried so hard not to let the tears spill once again because your eyes were so tired of them, but you couldn’t help yourself. “I’m sorry”, were the only words that slipped out of your mouth before you began sobbing uncontrollably.

He felt his heart clenching on his chest as he saw your body trembling uncontrollably, once you let out the first tear, the rest followed like an unbroken stream. It was tough seeing you like this, he was so sorry you had lost almost everyone when Thanos had snapped away half of humanity and he knew you had it rougher than anyone because of your age.

While you were stranded into outer space, Tony really thought it was the exhaustion and grief and trauma, but that you would be okay as time passed, especially considering that Pepper had survived, and your little sister was on the way. But once you returned and you began staying more and more in your room, then you started sneaking out at night and then you simply stopped talking.

He especially knew it when entering your room while you were sleeping after you arrived at 5:00 a.m. he saw you watching a video of you and Peter. You were messing around that day at the MOMA, you were trying to take does “couple-like” pictures where you are holding Peter’s hand while dragging him into another exhibition. There was no way you were going to get over that easily, he thought.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay” Tony muttered as he began holding you, you looked extremely tiny as you let yourself melt in your father’s hands after so many months trying to ‘keep it together’ as you could.

“It’s just not fair. Wanda’s gone, Vision’s gone so is Bucky and Sam. Not even Ned, MJ, Betty or Flash didn’t survive”, you explained your father between sobs. “And Peter, we were going to be together and we wanted to do so much”

Tony knew it wasn’t fair and he still had nightmares of you crying over the ashes of Peter. He had lost the boy and it broke his heart.

“I know, this broke your heart in ways that I can only imagine” Tony assured you as he played with your hair. “And I know you got it worse than many of us”

You simply nodded in agreement, as your mind flashed moments when you were working with Peter on your lab when you were having training sessions with Wanda, when you went for pizza with the Midtown gang, but it was all gone.

“I always thought it would get easier”, you inhaled deeply as you tried to calm yourself without much success, “

And so, Tony shook his head and he clasped your face in his hands, so you could look at him. His gaze was strong and there was a little smile on his face.

“It does get any easier kid if you are ready to work for it”, Tony’s stated as he looked at you tenderly, “I understand it’s harder for you, you lost a lot. But there are people who lost even more than us. You have me, Pepper is here and that little monster on Pepper’s belly, she’s going to be here soon. You have a family here and we love you. It might not be the one you had, but we are here.”

And as your father said those words, with his eyes on the verge of tears but that also dripped so much love, you stopped crying. Your tears came to an end and it was the first time in a while that you simply stopped at will, not because you were too tired, and you fell asleep or because they didn’t come out anymore.

“I’m so sorry”, you whispered, overwhelmed but the new feeling. “I just don’t know how to be me, I’ve been feeling so off this last seventh months and I just don’t know how”

Tony smiled because those words simply brought him back to the cave with Yinsen when he first created Mark 1. Don’t waste it, don’t waste your life, Stark, he thought.

“You simply don’t waste it honey”, his voice breaking a bit as he pulled you into a hug. “Peter wouldn’t let you waste it.”

And then something clicked on you.

                                                            …

“You have to be kidding me…”, you spat out as your suit quickly materialized around you while you were walking out with Peter from this pizza place on Lower Manhattan you loved when you saw Scorpion jumping from one of the buildings, from the D.A. building and people were screaming like crazy on the streets.

Peter ran inside to put on his suit while he was cursing to himself, you couldn’t help to scoff as you saw how Scorpion was growling, scaring bystanders.

It had been a couple of months of Scorpion attacking New York and making you incredibly annoyed. You were in finals and Junior year was actually getting to you since you had to start sending college applications soon. Everyone, apparently, knew where they wanted to go and what they wanted to do, MJ was clearly sociology on Columbia and then she would go for Law, MIT was a no-brainer for Ned, Flash was actually thinking of taking a sabbatical semester to travel and Betty had been already taking classes on Yale. Everyone but you and Peter. He was actually as confused as you were on what to do: He knew he wanted a degree, but he also knew that he wanted to be a full-time Avenger like Steve or Tony, but he didn’t know exactly which came first.

You had been actually discussing with your dad your career path since you actually didn’t know if you were going to MIT. It hadn’t been pretty breaking it up to him the day before and Peter had decided to buy you a slice of pizza to make it better.

Well, until Scorpion decided to make an appearance.

“Come on out to play Stark, come out to play with Spider-man” Scorpion sang from the entrance of the D.A.’s office and his eyes gleamed with malice when he saw you in your suit, landing in front of him.

If you were being completely honest, Scorpion didn’t scare you at first but in more recent attacks you had been noticing that his suit grew more and more complex with time and now you were kinda nervous. He always managed to knock you out enough time to escape before you could get back up or before the other Avengers who weren’t on missions would come and help you.

“H.A.P.P.Y, please evacuate all the civilians from 35th street to 50th street. Notify first responders and also my dad and Steve”, you muttered as you crack your neck. It had been a rough training yesterday with Nat, but you felt more prepared.

“Will do, Miss Stark”, H.A.P.P.Y. spoke in your ear.

Scorpion laughed at you and as he started dangling from the first floor, you saw who he was holding with his tail, the D.A. was shitless scared being squeezed by the villains’ tail as a white cloth was wrapped around her mouth.

“You know Stark, Mr. D.A. right here didn’t think I could be more than an actual private investigator, she didn’t think I could become a hero, even bigger than Spider-man, hell even better than Iron Man.” Scorpion laughed as he licked his lips.  

“Don’t flatter yourself”, you said as your suit quickly calculated which was the best move to remove the D.A. from Scorpion’s tale. “You really think you could be better than Iron Man? You can’t even reach Spider-man’s levels”

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment”, Peter said into the com as he landed on the building's window, crawling over the windows.

Scorpion growled as he turned around and watched Peter crawling closer and closer to him. “I’m a real hero, you freak!” He yelled as he lunged towards Peter, climbing the building again but being distracted enough to let the D.A. a little bit looser on his tail.

You smiled to yourself as you flew silently towards Scorpion while he kept climbing the building going after Peter who was executing a flawless gymnastics routine as he dodged every single hit that Scorpion sent his way, thanks to his spidey senses.

Peter knew each and every one of the movements that he was throwing and for most of it, he was avoiding his claws from ripping his body while trying to immobilize them with the web. But for some reason, they weren’t that strong for him anymore.

And he got a feeling that it wasn’t good.

But you weren’t paying much attention as you quickly and silently as you could take a hold of the D.A.’s hand. Always take a hostage to a safe place first, then attack the enemy, you thought as your mask quickly disappear as you smiled to calm the D.A. down.

“Hey Mrs. Beck”, you smiled as you took off the cloth and she inhaled sharply. “I’m getting you out of here, but I need you to hold my hand really tight”

The only thing she could do was a nod in affirmation as you smiled, and the mask materialized back. You flew a little bit farther away, while still moving in sync with Scorpion’s movements against Peter. You were on the sixth floor by now and knew it would get even risky if you didn’t execute your plan. Breathing deeply, you pointed your left hand at the Scorpions tale, a safe distance from the D.A.’s and fired.

Scorpion howled as his tail quickly loosen up from the D.A.’s body and you knew it was your moment. You pulled the D.A. from his tail and with your left hand you shot the closest window to your left, then as carefully as you could give the circumstances you threw the D.A. into the building, making sure she landed on the mat floor between some desks.

She did, she stood up as soon as she could and began running into the building.

“Okay Peter, D.A. is secure now w-”, were the only things that left your mouth as Scorpions tail came careening towards you, slamming into you and throwing you towards the building next door.

It was so fast and so hard, that you didn’t even realize you had crashed against several windows and found yourself into one of the offices of the next building. You groaned as you stood up a little bit dizzy and watched as Peter was trying so hard to stop Scorpion from coming for you, webbing him up as he said.

“Y/N, go!” Peter screamed into your com as Scorpion ripped the last web he had placed on his claw and had a few missing steps to crawl into the building you had fallen into. A sullen expression was drawn on his face as his twisted smile as he violently crawled closer and closer to you, the building shaking with every move he made.

You were right, he had gotten bigger and stronger.  

“Fuck fuck” you mumbled to yourself as you jumped from the building and tried to fly as fast as you could outside the building, but it didn’t exactly go your way.

You jumped from the broken window as soon as you could, figuring it would be okay and you would get steady later but then you felt his strong grip on your ankle. You didn’t think he could touch you, you didn’t think he would but as closer, as it got, you got little to no time to react to his claws when you felt a sharp sting on your ankle and you screamed.  

“You are dead meat, Stark!” He yelled with a growl as he held onto you, not allowing you to fly.

You turned around, ready to fire any number of shots for him to let you go but you didn’t need to because as soon as you gazed into Scorpion’s scarred eye you saw Peter. He was doing a chokehold on Scorpion, who was already turning purple and before you knew it, he had released you.

“Y/N I got you, go!” Peter yelled as you flew a little bit farther away, stunned by how quickly Peter had entered to help you.

But before you could say anything, you saw how Scorpion, with the same claw he was holding you with, reached for Peter and snatched him from his back, ripping Peter’s suit and painfully drawing three marks on Peter’s back that quickly gush out blood.

He screamed.

“PETER!”, you screamed as you watched with horror how Scorpion threw Peter from behind his back into the air.

And you felt your stomach dropping while Scorpion smiled sinisterly at the boy falling into the air but his smile faded away when he saw The Falcon flying towards him, firing shots while he made a run for it.

Peter was trying to react, to pull a web quickly so he could swing but the thing was the scratches -that would heal up quickly because of his power- had reached his muscles. Therefore, he failed and failed to really use his web-shooters and he was going to try again, one more time because the floor was getting closer and closer as the seconds passed.

When suddenly he stopped, he stopped falling into nothingness and when he opened his eyes, you were holding him. He smiled under his mask.

“Steve, he’s going out, his losing too much blood help”, Peter heard you said into the com, he was indeed seeing less and less. “I got you right back”, you whispered as you almost reached the floor where Steve was waiting for you two.                                                         / 

You were holding Peter’s hand in the white and grey room on the medical wing in the Avengers compound, he was laid on his stomach because of his injuries. Thankfully, the available Avengers had come as quickly as they could from the compound, they still didn’t catch Scorpion who quickly disappeared when he threw Peter from the air and avoided Sam but at least there hadn’t been as much damaged as it could.

It annoyed you that he was still out though, especially after what he did to Peter.

You knew he was going to recover fast, by the night there would only be scars there and he wouldn’t be in the medical wing for more than a couple of hours, but you still worried about him, a lot. You weren’t actually ready to say it out loud, that you were actually falling in love with your best friend. It was weird because it started small, if we were being honest, you hadn’t even noticed but then it hit you like a cold shower and now you only pictured him with you.

“He’s going to be okay, you know that, right?”, Steve’s words snapped you out of your thoughts, you gazed at the door where he was with his arms crossed and leaning on the frame of the door.

You rolled your eyes, he had recently done one of those infomercials for the board of education and it had been ingrained into your memory when they showed your uncle on GYM class.

“Yeah, I know. I just …”, you licked your lips trying to catch the right words, “I just don’t want him to wake-up alone, this is one of those time where he was really hurt”

You nodded and swallowed hard as Steve’s eyes pierced you, but your eyes remained on Peter’s soft features, his eyelashes, his mouth, his nose… you liked to see him this calm.

“You know, Peter knew better than to approach Scorpion like that.” Steve said as he watched you from the door, “We practiced it a few weeks ago with Nat, he knew that he needed to be certain that the subject was weak, that he could overpower him”

Your eyes finally left Peter, watching Steve suspiciously about what he was saying.

“I know how to do a safe chokehold, you taught me.”, you let out silently, since you didn’t want to wake Peter.

“I’m just saying that if he did that today, knowing the risk that it entailed, he must really like you”, Steve whispered with a smirk on his face and you felt the crimson red growing on both of your cheeks as your eyes quickly focused on your hold on Peter’s hand.

“Oh my god, we are just friends”, you whispered back and tried your voice not to crack under the pressure as you looked at Steve who was smiling a bit. “We are best friends, can’t you let it go?”

“I’m just saying that he really cares about you and… it’s okay if you really care about him in that way”, Steve let out and you swear that if Peter somehow heard this conversation then you would probably die of embarrassment.

“H.A.P.P.Y can you lead Mr. Captain America to his room on the compound before I have to get up?”, you murmured as you glared at Steve who simply raised his hands and giggled as he began walking away.

“He really likes you Y/N” Steve let out before the door of the room closed.

You breathe a little easier once Steve left but you couldn’t help smiling a bit as you held Peter’s hand a little bit tighter.

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 5

Aurora in Vogue & saying goodbye to Robin: May-June 2017    

Word count: 3.2k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts - vogue + robin

Stepping into the elevator of Avengers tower, Aurora felt all the stress of the past month leave her body. LA was always fun to visit, but it never felt like home the way NYC or London did and knowing she would be with her parents shortly, added to the feeling of comfort. After weeks of anxiety over the album being released, the pressure of performing again and the constant looming threat of Robins health, the thought of getting a hug from Steve was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The moment she stepped out into the penthouse, Steve and Tony were waiting for her and she gladly fell into Steve’s arms, immediately feeling Tony step behind her, his chest pressed against her back and sandwiching her in the middle of a family cuddle. She was grateful to be spending a week back home in the tower and excited for the photo shoot for Vogue in a few days’ time, however she couldn’t seem to avoid the anxious feeling in her gut whenever she thought of Harry.

She knew how deeply affected he was by his stepfather's continued deterioration and she wished that she had just cancelled the photo shoot and gone straight to Manchester with him to offer her support. Not only did she want to be there for her husband, but she also wanted to make the most of the short time she herself had left with Robin. She was desperately searching for a silver lining or really anything positive to hold on to and so far, all she had come up with was that she was grateful that they all had the opportunity to say goodbye to Robin. Her own mother’s passing had been so sudden and tragic, so she hoped that the time they had to spend with him and say farewell would help them process their grief just a little bit easier when the time finally came.

xXx

After spending a few days with her fathers, Aurora met with the photographer, designers and the rest of the team behind her photo shoot for her article in Vogue magazine. She wasn’t going to be on the cover of the magazine, instead only featuring in an article a few pages in and as such the photo shoot was not the grand spectacle you would assume it would be when Vogue was involved. Some of the photos were taken out on the quiet street outside the Queens photography studio, while the rest of the shoot took place inside. Aurora had plenty of fun, changing outfits and having her hair and makeup perfected and she chose to wear her prosthetic hand for some of the outfits, while leaving it off for others. By the end of the day, she was glad to be back in her own clothes and chatted away to Happy about the day as he drove her back across the East River.  

Steve had prepared a nice meal for the evening, and both he and Tony were waiting in the penthouse when she returned.

“It’s been so good to have you home this week kiddo,” Tony said while they ate. “We’ve missed you.”

“Missed you both too,” Aurora replied. “It’s been nice to just stop for a moment and hang out with you both. Everything is so hectic lately and it feels like Harry and I are always rushing to or from something. Get’s a bit much sometimes.”

“You know we’re always here when you need a break,” Steve promised, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder slightly.

“I know,” she smiled. “Means everything to know I can always come here, and it’ll feel like nothing’s changed.”

“Well some things might be a changing a bit,” Tony replied. “Steve and I have started looking into adoption or surrogacy.”

“You’re going to have a baby?” Aurora squealed, her face lighting up in delighted excitement. “Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“It won’t happen for a while,” Tony continued. “It’s not a simple process and there’s a lot of paperwork and the tower would need to be approved by a social worker and either Pops or I will need to take a lot of time off work, so nothing will happen any time soon. We just want you to be involved.”

“And I really want to be involved,” Rori replied. “This is going to be the luckiest kid in the world to have you two for parents.”

“You don’t think it’ll be weird to have a baby sibling when you’re old enough to be having your own kids?” Steve asked.

“Not at all,” she promised. “Besides you’re technically only 34 Pops. That’s not exactly too old to be having a baby you know.”

Tony stood from his seat and quickly pulled his daughter to her feet, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Gonna be such a lucky kid to have the best big sister in the world,” he mumbled in her ear and she simply squeezed him tighter before they were both enveloped by Steve’s arms.  

xXx

The day after Steve and Tony informed their daughter of their plans to expand their family, she packed her things and after a quick farewell, boarded a flight for Manchester. She was anxious the entire flight, pressing her thumb into the palm of her hand repeatedly or tapping her fingers on the tray table in front of her. Harry met her at the airport, his usual happy smile missing in action as he gave her a quick hug and then herded her back towards his car.

Aurora tried to enjoy her week in Holmes Chapel, she really did. She attempted to find the usual peace and comfort she usually felt when helping Anne in the kitchen, or when arguing with Harry over a game of scrabble about whether he was making up words, but all she felt, underlying every moment was looming dread. With every interaction between herself and anyone in the house she was painfully aware of the ticking clock hanging above their heads. Every time Robin coughed a little too hard or winced when he tried to stand up from the recliner in the living room, she was faced with the reality that she and Harry were there to say goodbye. She tried to hide it behind strained smiles and forced laughter, holding her tears off until everyone was asleep, and she could sneak outside to the back garden and let her sobs break free.

Despite knowing that it was very likely the last time she would see him, Aurora was grateful when it was finally time for her and Harry to return to London.  She felt as though she hadn’t taken a deep breathe since the moment she arrived, so as heartbreaking as it was to say goodbye for what she knew was very likely the last time, she was relieved to be also leaving behind the tense and terrifying atmosphere of the house. They both hugged Robin and Anne goodbye, holding on a few moments longer than usual and neither commented on the others tears as they pulled out of the driveway and merged onto the motorway headed south. There was nothing to say as the radio softly played, breaking what would have otherwise been tormenting silence as Harry drove.

xXx

After only a few weeks back in London and another tv performance, Harry received the call from his mother that they had been dreading for months on end. Robin had finally lost his battle against the disease that had been ravishing his body for near on a year. The moment Anne gasped out the terrible words, Harry’s world stopped turning. His breath caught in his chest, his ears rang in the silence that wrapped around him, and his knees buckled beneath him. Aurora was by his side the moment he fell to the floor, taking the phone from his loose grip and quietly taking over the conversation with Anne. They didn’t speak for long and after hanging up, Rori remained on the floor beside her husband, her arms wrapped tightly around him as he shook silently.

“Rori I can’t breathe,” Harry gasped after many long minutes of silence between the pair.

Aurora felt her heart breaking as she held him tightly against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he shuddered. “I know, H,” she soothed. “I know, I’ve got you.”

“It hurts,” Harry continued to sob. “I know he wasn’t my dad but…”

“No,” Rori interrupted. “Don’t you try that shit Harry, not with me.” She pulled him away from where his face was buried against her, each of her hands cupping his cheekbones, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Don’t you dare try to tell me that Robin wasn’t your father. Because if that’s true then Steve isn’t mine and I know losing him would hurt just as much as losing Mum did. He wasn’t your blood, but he was your dad and you’re allowed to feel this. Do you hear me Harry? You get to feel this. All of it. It hurts this much because he mattered, and he loved you. I know that you know that.”

“I can’t. I can’t do this Rors.”

“You can and you will,” Aurora promised. “Tonight, it’s just me here. You can cry or scream or whatever you need and then in the morning you’re going to pull yourself together and we are both going to be there for Anne.”

“Don’t leave me,” he mumbled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

Given the late hour of Anne’s call and the way that Harry had immediately crumbled, Aurora had decided that they would wait until the morning to drive north to Holmes Chapel, a decision that Anne had agreed with. After what seemed like the longest time, Rori finally coaxed Harry to his feet and helped him down the hall and into bed, only letting go of him long enough to strip out of their clothes before she returned to wrapping herself around his broad shoulders. They stayed awake until well after midnight and Aurora ran a soothing hand along Harry’s back as he clung to her. She pushed her own grief to the side, knowing that her husband needed to be able to lean on her without worrying about being a burden. She knew only too well the pain of losing a parent and she wanted nothing more than to shield her husband from that kind of pain, even though she knew that wasn’t possible.

xXx

Both Harry and Aurora were exhausted as they got ready to leave the following morning. They packed enough clothes for a week, knowing that they could just do laundry if they ended up staying longer and Harry carried their cases, and the garment bags holding their funeral outfits, downstairs to the car. Aurora followed behind him a few moments later, her hands full with travel mugs of coffee to keep them awake for the three hour drive up to Anne’s house. One stern look was all it took for Harry to give up arguing that he should drive and instead, he handed the keys to his wife and climbed into the passenger seat, gratefully sipping on the coffee she traded him for the keys. Aurora frowned as she watched him settle into his seat, before turning her attention back to pulling out of the garage and merging into the early morning traffic making its way out of the city. He looked terrible, his hair a mess, his eyes glassy and puffy, and his trademark smile was non-existent. She knew she probably didn’t look much better after staying up worrying about him all night and trying not to slip into her own feelings of grief she felt welling inside her. She would have time to grieve later, for now her entire focus was on her husband, as well as Anne and Gemma. Once she knew they were pulling themselves back together and supporting each other, then she would allow herself to cry and mourn Robin. Just as she had for Louis when his mother passed, now she put those around her first, taking on the caregiver role that she so naturally adopted in times like these. Even the mere thought of putting herself first made her feel sick to her stomach.

The drive was long, and Aurora was thankful when Harry finally fell asleep an hour into the drive as they passed Stokenchurch. She turned down the radio, driving silently for the next hour, following the motorway until she reached Strafford, taking the exit to stop for a coffee break. Harry continued to sleep, clearly exhausted from the lack of sleep the previous night, not even stirring when Aurora returned to the car and started the engine. She merged back onto the M6 and continued north until she finally arrived in Holmes Chapel. She reached out to gently shake Harry’s shoulder as they turned onto Anne’s street. He woke groggily, knuckling his eyes as Rori parked the car behind Gemma’s out the front of house. She laced her fingers through her husbands as they made their way up the path, the front door swinging open as the stepped onto the porch. Gemma didn’t say a word as she pulled her baby brother into a tight hug and then led them both inside to where Anne was sitting in the living room.

In any crisis, Aurora immediately stepped into a care giver role without really thinking about it and Robin’s death was one of the biggest crises she had ever encountered. For the first two days in Anne’s home, she cooked, cleaned and made sure that everyone always had a fresh cup of tea on hand. Between Anne, Gemma and Harry there was always at least one person in tears, but Anne tried her hardest not to let anyone wallow too much and instead insisted that they share their favourite memories of Robin. They had all sat around in the living room, laughing and sharing stories from years passed and while they were all deeply unhappy, this reminiscing did help lift the mood of the house. Rori spent many hours cuddled up on the sofa with Harry carding her fingers through his hair while he grieved or lying in bed next to each other talking late into the night while sleep alluded them both. Aurora manage to hold herself together and be the rock for everyone else in the house until their third night in Holmes Chapel.

It was late. Really late. Harry had finally fallen asleep, and with the rest of the house silent, Rori snuck downstairs and slipped out into the back garden. It was a clear spring night, a chill breeze blowing through the yard causing her to draw her cardigan tightly around herself. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly until it turned into a deep sob, the kind that felt like it would break a rib. She gasped for breath as she cried in the darkness, finally allowing herself to miss her father in law. Finally allowing herself to feel the loss without worrying about adding to Harry or Anne or Gemma’s grief. Her cries were loud enough that she didn’t hear the door open behind her, or the footsteps across the patio. She jumped a little when a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Gemma gripped her tightly as she shook.

“Was wondering when you were finally going to let it all out,” she whispered as Auroras sobs began to soften.

“I’m sorry,” Rori said, pulling back from Gemma’s hold and wiping at the tears running down her cheeks. “I’m ok. How are you?”

“Stop,” Gemma replied. “Stop acting like you’re not allowed to miss him too. It’s not a competition. I get that you’re trying to be strong for H and Mum and me, but you’re not helping anyone by holding it all in and then coming out here in the middle of the night to let it all out.”

“I just,” Aurora muttered, “I just don’t want Harry worrying about me right now. I can hold it together so that he can rely on me while he falls apart.”

“You know he’d be furious if he found out you were hurting and not letting him in,” Gemma said. “We can all lean on each other. That’s the whole point of the four of us staying here together.”

Aurora nodded in understanding, not knowing what to say since her sister in law was clearly hell bent on winning this disagreement. “Let’s go inside and make some tea.”

Both women trudged inside, settling on the kitchen stools as they waited for the kettle to boil. “It just isn’t fair,” Aurora murmured when Gemma handed a mug to her and re-joined her at the counter. “He deserved more time.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gemma said. “I don’t even know what to say to Mum. After so many crap guys, she finally found her soulmate just to have him taken away. Makes me so angry.”

“Makes me angry too,” Aurora agreed. “Feels like we just keep losing parents. First my mum, then Jay, now Robin.”

“Makes me afraid of who’s next,” Gemma replied, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“What are you both doing up so late?” Harry mumbled from the doorway, startling both women. “It’s nearly 4am.”

“Did we wake you?” Rori asked. “Sorry baby.”

Harry shuffled further into the kitchen, immediately noticing that his wife had been crying as soon as he neared her. He didn’t say anything, instead stepping up to her side and pulling her tightly against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his bare torso, as she buried her face against one of the swallows nestled beneath his collarbones. “Please don’t pull away from me,” he whispered.

“Didn’t want to burden you,” Rori whispered back in reply.

Harry loosened the hug, pulling away enough to look her in the eyes. “You’re never a burden to me,” he promised, his voice serious. “We deal with this the same way we do everything, we do it together.”

Aurora didn’t know what to say so she remained silent and instead buried her face back into his chest and clung tightly to him, as if he would disappear the moment she let go. She never noticed Gemma slipping out of the room, but by the time she pulled herself together enough to lift her head away from Harry, the young couple were alone in the kitchen. Harry silently led her back to their room, pulling the covers over them and hugging her tightly against him, neither able to fall back asleep before the dawn light began peeking through the curtains a few hours later.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[ziamhaze]

Hi, I hope you're well! I just want to start off by thanking you for all the wonderful fics you have blessed me with!

I just finished Red vs. Black and was hoping you wouldn't mind answering some questions I have. As someone who risks his own life to save others, how does Liam justify being with someone he knows has killed innocent people? It'd be one thing if Zayn had only killed those directly involved with what happened to his family, but he's killed innocent civilians over minor inconveniences (such as the teenagers in the convertible). Does Zayn still think he is justified in doing so? Does he ever feel guilty about it? If not, how would Liam and Zayn be compatible if their moral compasses are so different?

Also, did Zayn's father ever make his way to the UK? Or was that just a lie he told Zayn to comfort him? Does Zayn ever find his family, especially his younger sister?

I know it's a lot, but I'd really love to hear your answers if you want to give them! Again thank you for all of your wonderful works!

So sorry it’s taken me this long to reply, but I didn’t forget!

To start I’d like to thank you for clicking, and finishing, Red vs. Black.  It isn’t the shortest of fics, nor is it the most delicate - to put it lightly.  For the latter alone, thank you.

These are such poignant, important questions.  Ones that are nearly word for word what I asked myself while planning the ending.

                         SPOILERS FOR ALL OF RED VS. BLACK

1)  How does Liam stay with Zayn after learning of all his senseless killings?

Honestly, I questioned this the most when feeling out the concept.  As a fic writer it’s expected of me to write not only a romance, but also a happy ending.  Of course fics exist that do neither, but they’re very rare and not exactly well-loved.  And truthfully, a massive point that I wanted to get across - and which in effect answers this question - is that despite people’s pasts, they cannot overcome them without being given the opportunity.  100%.  No ands, ifs, or buts.  For a prisoner to assimilate back into society and not go back to their old ways, they need to be trusted with a job.  With a salary (no matter how small), they need to trust themselves to be able to not buy anything that may contribute to poor habits: drugs, alcohol, weapons, gambling, a means of transport that will give them the ability to visit bad influences (more of a psychological thing, but still).  A lot of prisoners are never given this opportunity (especially in the United States), and therefore fall back into their old ways, which are more often than not coping mechanisms to deal with the fact that they can’t fit into society as easily as privileged people to begin with; it’s a terrible cycle.  However, there are plenty of success stories of those that truly wish to change and are lucky enough to stumble upon an employer or mentor or sponsor of some sort that hands them an inkling of hope/trust that they use to fight their way back up.  The fic is fantasy, and while Zayn’s story is rooted in real world PTSD, I think the prisoner analogy is easy for us to envision and therefore, understand why Liam acts the way he does.  I also made it a point in the last scene when they’re talking things out to have Liam voice his contingency: if Zayn so much as spits at anyone, he’s done for.  That’s to say, he’s not wiping his slate clean just yet.

2)  Does Zayn still feel his useless killings were justified?

I’m going to answer assuming that you’re referring to the time after the fic ends.

Looking back at his actions is something that would be inevitable when he starts therapy, and this is a perfect example of one of the questions his therapist would ask.  You may not like my answer, but as an author I find it imperative that I speak of my characters realistically and to keep them true, not how I want them to act.  That said, yes, Zayn would still find justification in why he’s done what he’s done.

There are a few instances in the story where this is actually explained.  Take the scene in the bar with fancy mixologists.  Zayn begins to get aggravated over the people in the room simply because they’re ignorant to the feeling of significant pain.  There’s also the scene where he’s back home in Cheshire and Harry straight out tells him, he may be furious at the unfairness of the world, but he needs to learn how to come to terms with it.  It’s not going to change.  This right here is what a therapist would work with him to do, and also why I had Harry be the one to bring this up in the story - he is one.

I know it sounds incredibly foreign to the average person, but trust me when I say that people struggling with anger problems founded in (un)fairness, exist.  I’ve spoken with professionals about it.  Add on crippling childhood PTSD and a villain like Zayn can definitely be born.  It’s why treatment is needed, and why the answer is ‘yes’ in the beginning of Zayn’s journey to peace.  When his answer switches over to ‘no’, that’s when it’ll be outwardly apparent that he’s beating his ailment.  Unfortunately, for many, the inner battle with mental health is lifelong; the answer ‘no’ will never turn solid.

3)  Does Zayn feel guilty about the above?

Again, there are a couple times when I write Zayn to literally mention how he feels zero guilt.  However, if you really really pay attention you’ll notice that these instances aren’t villain related.

For example, meeting Liam’s parents:

After handing his father and Zayn each their tea, Liam looks between them suspiciously. "Leaving the two of you in a room together was a bad idea."

"Don't know what you're on about," Geoff replies innocently. "We were just talking about cars, weren't we Zayn?" Even with all eyes on him, the pressure of lying doesn't get to Zayn. It never does.

"Yeah," he agrees, bringing his drink up to his lips carefully, "cars."

Or, after Zayn walks out from the comedy club:

"It takes a lot of courage to get up there and do something like that, don't you think?"

"Not really."

Liam looks to the side, hoping that he can interpret more from Zayn's answers by seeing the expressions that go with their frankness. "So if I signed you up, you would do it?"

"Why would I want to make a room full of strangers laugh?" Zayn retorts, his right eye scrunching up in distaste, like it's a mannerism of his provoked by moronic questions. "I don't have a superiority complex." Liam thinks he might, but. "I know I'm better than those people, no mediocracy to cover up here."

So we’ve got those, but then we’ve also got this massive character point:

Right as the last of the snake's body emerges, Zayn snaps his fingers, triggering heavy hip-hop music to flow through his headphones and drown out the man's blood curdling cry.

If he could permanently damage people who deserved it, not always because they did something to Zayn, but because he liked to play god and throw them a massive curveball like life had done to him, then why shouldn't he? So long as he pulls his soundproof headphones off the little robot on the inside of his right arm to avoid listening to the pain his choice brutality caused, there's no valid reason he shouldn't take advantage of the gift he was given.

From where he's sitting, he probably won't be able to hear anything, but he fastens the equipment over his ears just in case.

All at once, the atmospheric sounds of central London, mixed with the terrified screams of those in the burning building beneath them, hit Zayn at full force. The sensory overload alone would normally be enough to piss him off, but tack on his protection from audible trauma being taken and being spoken to while in villain mode, and he's seeing red as deep as the pits of hell he knows he's destined for.

I wrote Zayn’s headphone usage as a way to alert that the reader that he does, in fact, feel villain-related guilt.  He can’t act on his anger without them on.  He’ll have his victims screams stuck in his head, and he’d never be able to handle that a.k.a. there’s zero satisfaction from their literal pain.  Think about that and it’ll answer your follow-up question.

4)  What happened to Zayn’s family?

Zayn’s father meant what he said - he’d do whatever he needed to reunite his family.  That wasn’t a falsity at all.  The problem is money.  And politics, but let’s start with the issue of money.  It took Yaser nine years to save up the amount he paid to have Zayn and Waliyha smuggled across the border.  The whole concept of smuggling is that it’s a cheaper option than the legal one.  So if we look at this, you can see how long it would take him to save for three adult visa fees, three adult plane tickets, and enough to stay afloat for a month or so when they get to England.  Now add in the politics of the early 2000s and the Afghanistan/Pakistan region.  We know that Yaser fixed air conditioners for a living.  No person with that average of a background is going to have an easy time immigrating anywhere.  Even so, would it really take him over 18 years?  While it’s plausible, perhaps a man with such determination would find another way.  Or...was that unnecessary because he was fed lies?

Think about it.  After several weeks and no word from his children, don’t you think he’d cause a riot?  He’s the type to drive over to Badar’s house and demand his relatives get in contact with him to find out what’s going on.  But, given the flashback Zayn has, it’s obvious that Badar never planned on accompanying any of the children to the UK, and if that’s the case, he clearly couldn’t return to Quetta.  I imagine a fully rehearsed story was told to all of the children’s parents about how they were killed somewhere along the way.

As for Waliyha, her whereabouts were told to my gang over on Patreon a while ago.  In short, yes, she’s still alive and I plan on pitching the book’s sequel to publishers as a graphic novel series revolved around her location.  Louis’ dark web bot finally found a hint as to where that might be, so Zayn and Liam go on a journey across Europe to find her.  Each issue would (probably) take place in a new city and involve both fighting a single bad guy.

Just a quick reminder to anyone who reads this, Red vs. Black and all involved characters are my intellectual property and cannot be replicated, manipulated, or stolen.

Again, thank you for your question and time!  I know my fics aren’t short and take a huge time commitment to finish.  If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to send them my way!  I’m super busy writing the next story and doing critical work, but I promise I’ll get around to it.

[desideratvms]

╰☆╮[ HARRY STYLES / ARETE / ANANKE / MUSE 30 ] / [ KENNEDY KING ] is a [ TWENTY-ONE ] year old [ NEUROSCIENCE ] major. [ HE ] is known for being [ HARDWORKING & BRILLIANT ] but [ STUBBORN & SELFISH ].  when i think of them, i imagine [ PITCH BLACK COFFEE, SLANTED KNOWING SMILES, EYES ROLLED BEHIND YOUR BACK ]. and even though they’re a proud HU student now, we all have our roots. theirs run back to them being a [ MHP ( AER ) ] graduate.  i asked around and it turns out they [ AREN’T ] an AOP student. in their interview, they managed to woo the admissions team by [ PRESENTING HIS PROTOTYPE OF A 3D PRINTED SPINAL DISK ]. i guess that’s all there is to know! unless… 

                          penned by: ☆  MOON , 24 , THEY/THEM , & EST

statistics:

FULL NAME: kennedy james king. NICKNAME(S): he prefers his full name, but gets ‘ken’, ‘kenny’ and ‘king’ often. AGE: twenty-two. BIRTHDAY: november 1st. GENDER: demiboy. PRONOUNS: he/they. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual. MAJOR: neuroscience ( pre - med ). HEIGHT: 6′1". MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral evil. MBTI: ENTP HOGWARTS HOUSE: slytherin. TRAITS: ambitious, intelligent, disingenuous, judgmental, quick-witted, selfish, petty, passionate, outgoing, charming.

short bio blurb.

for your first few years of life, your cries are met with warm consoling arms, kisses over scraped knees and meals around the dinner table. as you grow older, the concept washes out of sight like a salty tide: slowly, then all at once. your parents draw the lines and your nannies color them in, and with time you realize you might in fact be the only kid in history who doesn’t resent them for it. not one bit.

a son of two brilliant surgeons, your life has been filled with ten-minute holidays and interrupted birthdays. as you grew to understand it, you discovered you hardly minded much. after all, you inherited your parents’ desire for medicine and excellence, and you aspire to be so busy one day, crave it, actually, so you fill your need for attention elsewhere and allot the rest of your time to achieving perfection. you’re in the stars and you know it; there’s no time to hold success against the people that drove you there.

though your family’s social circle shifted its orbit to the rich and powerful, they remain grounded as ever. for this, your ego is your best kept secret at home. mother and father would grill you for your narcissistic reputation, so you hide it when you’re back for the holidays behind big smiles and perfectly roasted turkeys. they want you to be proud, not arrogant, but it’s not your fault: you just can’t help that you’re always right.  

if you fall, though, you fall far –- the kings don’t throw money at problems.

they solve them.

your desire for greatness burns bright in your belly and your affinity for it has a habit of taking over the more tender parts of your heart. you’re not cruel, just destined, and nothing puts you on your toes faster than a threat, so you remove them. poll ten people and seven might think you brutal in your ambition, but all is fair in love, war and the pursuit of knowledge.

you’re focused but more romantic than what meets the eye.  while chocolates and flowers aren’t your forte, but loyalty and dedication are. there’s no better lover than one who has a habit of sinking its teeth into anything they love, and you’re a dog whose never given up a bone in his life.

your softer inner workings are there underneath and you’re not ashamed, not at all, they’ll bring you the other piece of the puzzle one day. someone to help you hold that trophy high above your head and someone to smile while they do. vulnerability doesn’t set you back; it propels you, but you’re still skating around how to equip it just right. you’re prone to using words like fire to mask your ego, and communication fizzles out by a stinging touch.

now, you turn your head toward the future. the snap of latex gloves and the slice of a scalpel. the desire to invent, to perform, to heal – anything along the way is a blip, a moment, but nothing that can’t be solved when you refuse to stop. your fate is in your hands.

background breakdown.

kennedy king is the son of two famous surgeons: dr. amanda peele-king ( mostly known as dr. peele ) and dr. jason king. both have made several advancements in their fields, dr. peele herself working on innovative tools to advance laparoscopic surgery as a general surgeon, and dr. king as a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon.

although his parents were absent more often than not due to their demanding work lives, kennedy knew from a young age that he wanted to follow in their footsteps. raised mostly by various nannies over the years, kennedy was bothered when he was younger when his parents didn’t make it to every recital; however, this was mostly erased as he grew old enough to understand their occupations.

it was love at first sight when kennedy visited the hospital. maybe not the bloody surgery part, but medicine in general, the intense need to know about the body. why it worked the way it did. he was absolutely fascinated. the time he did spend with his parents was used to soak up all the knowledge he could, and they never minded much. it gave them common ground to love the same thing, much unlike his older brother that didn’t have the same drive and passion for medicine the way he did.

the kings were glad to have one son that wanted to follow in their footsteps, and so even if there’s a large distance between them at times, kennedy has always had a fairly good relationship with his parents, even if that comes with immense pressure

personality breakdown.

to say he’s a perfectionist is an understatement. he simply refuses to go into a field and be the flop of the family, so his pursuit of knowledge is pretty unparalleled. he takes his studies seriously, and doesn’t really relate to the college life of skipping 8ams to nurse hangovers.

not that he doesn’t have them -– but we love a man that perseveres.

wish i had his confidence of just assuming everything’s going to go his way. his label means force or necessity, and that’s because kennedy has a way of making things working in his favor with pure force. ‘kennedy, aren’t you worried you’ll fail?’ ‘no.’ ‘how?i’ ‘because i won’t let myself. duh’

although he doesn’t have the softest personality due to the lack of being hugged as a child, kennedy, at his core, isn’t entirely evil. he’s capable of caring about people and does. he’s a passionate person, and that can translate to love and loyalty for the right people. he doesn’t half-ass anything, so when he commits it’s on.

still, the boy has quite an ego. for him to think something is good enough to commit to takes a bit. he’s got particular taste, never backs down from a fight, and almost annoyingly always thinks he’s right. his ambition can sometimes blind him to the point of selfishness at times, even if his heart is in the right place.

he’s got his good qualities, though! for someone he loves, he’s there. he’s quite dependent when he wants to be, and he’s smart as anything. if you need help getting out of a jam, his brain is basically hardwired to know how to land on his feet.

kennedy is very organized and put together. never catch a wrinkle, even on his plain t-shirts. he shows his love through helping: he’s more likely to help you clean your dorm or organize your study notes for your test than deliver a monologue on his love for you, but it counts! you just need to know what to look for.

a brat but sometimes a lovable brat.

wanted connections.

a best friend. kennedy grew up without serious parental figures, so i’d love a childhood best friend with him that accepts him for his serious personality flaws. he would be hella ride or die for this person, which he isn’t for much of anyone else, so that means quite a bit! someone to keep him grounded, call him out on his bullshit, but not completely destroy his ego.

exes. honestly, kennedy can be quite the petty man. i can envision a lot of ugly breakups in his past OR we can plot some exes on good terms! he’s not totally emotionally stunted, can be quite a good boyf when he wants to be, but also a complete nightmare too. any gender feel free to apply!

hookups. self-explanatory. college life. the nature of their relationship will be entirely dependent on the muses and their dynamic, but kennedy isn’t always the nicest to his casual flings depending on their dynamic. some friends with benefits could work, though, for positive casual connections.

enemies. okay, look at this bratty bitch. there is no way he doesn’t have some, if not many, enemies. he has a temper and doesn’t like to be told no, so if you ever wanna verbally spat it out, feel free. he won’t swing, tho. those are surgeon’s hands, baby.  

hate-to-love friendship. someone dopey or complete unambitious that somehow kennedy still loves despite them being total opposites. he doesn’t get why they don’t do their assignments, or why they fall asleep drunk in the bathtub twice a week, but he really can’t deny that they amuse him and he cares about them.

[incorrectvalkyrie]

Questions About My Original Character...

Kody “Kingdom” Ammirati 

What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick for the symbolism or did you like the way it sounded?

My character is named after a friend of mine who passed away a while back. The character’s nickname is a symbolism to how she sees rainbow six as her family. Growing up her father referred to his family as a “kingdom” and how he was willing to do anything to protect and support his family at any length. It was something that stuck with her

What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?

Kody’s only insecruitiy is that sometimes she thinks she’s not good enough and she’s pretty good at hiding it. Only Frost knows about it.

What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?

Kody loves her eyes the most because it is one of the only things she has in common with her mother. Nice Blue eyes.

What are their favorite traits about their lover?

Kody loves Elena's mind and how it never stops coming up with ideas, always thinking. Also her voice, Kody melts everytime Elena starts talking (Especially when it's dirty)

Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type?

Kody is for sure a bit of both. To her her lover, she is confident while to someone she hardly knows, she can become a bit closed off and keep it to herself.

Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying?

Kody loves to cook! Her mother and Nona taught her when she was young and she's really good at it! Elena finds it a tad bit annoying because the team forces her to cook all the time, taking away their down time.

Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

Kody tends to say “i suppose” or “perhaps” absentmindedly to things that are said to her, mira finds is cute

What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?

Kody’s love and her loyalty to her family and friends, she would do anything for them no question. 

Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday?

Kody love’s winter! She always loved the cold, the snow, and the hot coco after being out too long. Her favourite holiday is definitely Christmas, her entire family gets together and spends the week together. She can't wait to drag Elena with her. 

What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

If anything were to ever happen to her family/friends she would lose it 

Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up?

Kody would rather die than lose her cooking talent. It keeps her close to her Nona. 

What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

Kody, when first falling asleep is a heavy sleeper but when closer to morning the lighter she comes. Kody tends to cuddle a pillow for some reason (she’s been doing so since a child) but recently, she tends to cuddle Elena more than a pillow.

Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates?

Kody used to live alone before joining team rainbow and living on base but when she gets the chance she does stay over at her parents because why not?

Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like?

Kody can be a bit of both. She loves playing ice hockey during the winter with her fellow JTF2 and spetsnaz, or playing some soccer with Capitao and the brits. Sometimes she finds herself sparing against Cav, hoping to improve her Jiu-Jitsu. Some days you’ll find her just being lazy on the couch watching the simpsons.

Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children?

Yes to both. Kody has always wanted to get married to the person she loves and have her own big family to share her traditions with

What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode?

Kody has voiced that she’d enjoy just a simple home, if possible by her family. Elena has said she agrees but wouldn’t mind somewhere quiet and out of a city.

Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily?

Kody does have a tendency to get into fights, physical more than verbal. Growing up with five brothers she became good at fighting simply because brothers can be jerks 

Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? 

Kody loves Dogs! She impulsively bought a dog and brought it home to hereford. Harry was not impressed and told her to get rid of it but the team complained and harry gave in and allowed the dog to stay. They named her Jellybean. 

What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear?

Kody’s biggest fear is to die alone and i think to be in that situation she would probably go into a full blown panic 

What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have?

Kody had her blood type, AB tattooed on her inner right wrist as soon as she joined the military. She’s not big on tattoos or piercings so she never bothered to get others. 

In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like?

“What’s Elena like? Elena is amazing! She’s so kind and patient! She is really like the mom of team rainbow, really stern and makes sure everyone is behaving. Huh? What's she like alone with me? Well, she’s quite dominate *laughing* She loves being in control, which is fine… she's kinda kinky y’know? But I love it, I love her!”

Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

When Kody was about six or seven, her and her mom were in a fire accident that almost killed them, kody often has nightmares about it but it doesn't affect her a whole lot but it does make her a bit more hesitant when she is around fire. 

What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc?

Elena has quite a high sex drive that Kody enjoys a lot. Elena is into anything really and Kody is all for Elena’s needs, easily submitting to anything she wants.

What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one?

Nothing too big or serious but during a training simulation Kody jumped onto a paint grenade, taking the full damage, giving Elena the time to clutch the match.

If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go?

Kody would go somewhere pretty high up and quiet, so possibly the roof of hereford.

Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc)

Kinder Surprise chocolate! Kody loves that chocolate so much. When Elena notices something off she’ll go off base and buy her tons of kinder products to help her cheer up.

Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go?

Kody isn’t afraid of death, she’s the kind to accept it with both arms open. If she had the option, she’d choose to be with her family and friends.

What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc?

Kody loves Thunder and lightning, no real reason but claims that it helps her sleep easier.

Does your character’s family affect your character in any way?

Kody finds that she has to prove herself to her father and brothers to find her fit in the family, but other than that her family is supportive and constantly keeping contact with her. They love her lots. 

Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character?

If anything had happened to her family or Elena that she could have prevented. It would break her completely. 

Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve?

Kody wears her heart on her sleeve but she has a tendency to hide how she feels in certain situations 

 What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover?

Whenever Elena is in the lab working on new projects, Kody will always bring her a fresh cup of coffee and some snacks, then proceed to hug her from behind, kissing her neck softly. Elena adores it

Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along?

Kody is really outgoing and is easy to befriend everyone, though she can be quiet and be dragged out of her comfort zone to things with groups. She doesn’t mind though.

Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious?

Sometimes when Elena and Eliza are together, Kody can get a bit jealous but Monika assures her that there is no need because Elena is interested in no one but her. 

What is something that your character has nightmares about? Are these frequent? Do they heavily affect your character’s mood?

One of Kody’s constant nightmares, besides the fire when she was younger, is one of her overseas on her last tour where her unit was part of an ambush that took out all of her unit but herself and her friend. They don’t affect her mood much, but she does get quiet and keep to herself. Elena is quick to notice this and will force her into bed and spend the day together watching movies and cuddling. 

How does your character and her lover confess their love to each other? 

One day Kody is just sitting in the lab watching Elena work and she just blurts it out without thinking, making Elena stop and blush. 

It takes Elena a few weeks to say it after the training sim where Kody takes the paint frag. Elena rushes to her and pulls her into a heated kiss in front of everyone, telling Kody that she loves her afterwards.

When does their first hook up happen?

Their first hook up was as strangers when they met at a bar, neither of them counted it as their first time. Kody says it was when Elena dragged her into Meghan Castellano’s room and slammed her against the door and called her an over exicted puppy before Fudging her into a crazy mess. Elena merely comments “She had it coming, and i have no regrets.”

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If you have other questions you’d like feel free to hit that inbox cause i will answer them..... Hope you guys liked..

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