#what started this whole thing off was the fact that i thought i was slytherin for ages

[obsessedwithceleste]

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

[ldrfanatic]

oh AND if thats not too much, from a different angle, can i also request, also for theodore nott, prompts f12 and l13? 🌟🌟 im all for mirrorball the archer reader hehe and i looove this whole lyric prompt idea!! 🤍

all i do is try, try, try

theodore nott x fem!reader

f12 - "I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me"

l13 - "Who could ever leave me darling, but who could stay?"

p.s. i'm adding the following line - "i've never been a natural, all i do is try, try, try."

synopsis - when you start to push theodore away, he knows something is wrong. but maybe he'll be the first one to fight for you.

my bookcase slytherin boys masterpost

theodore didn't confuse easily. sure, he was no hermione granger, but he liked to at least think that he was the smartest of his friend group. still, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why you seemed to be avoiding him the past few weeks.

your relationship was finally starting to get serious. so why now of all times would you possibly be avoiding him.

a dramatic huff left mattheo. "stop moping aurelius." his words were followed by a surprised yelp as pansy smacked him upside the head. "shut the hell up riddle. theo, if you're worried she's avoiding you, just ask her."

"i can't. every time i try to talk to her, she runs away from me."

pansy sighed. an internal battle was raging within her. she wanted to honor the girl code. and it was definitively not girl code to tell your homegirl's boyfriend when and where you'd be somewhere when he was precisely the bloke you were avoiding.

but she knew you. and she knew how good theo was to you. how good you were together. and it certainly had to be girl code to look out for your best friend's heart when she was too blindsided to do it herself, right?

"she'll be in the potions section of the library in..." she trailed off and took a quick glance at the clock. "exactly nine minutes. she asked me to meet her there at 7:30 but maybe..."

pansy didn't have to finish. theo had already jumped to his feet and was pulling his forest green jumper over his head. he had one shot to confront you. if this didn't work... who knows, really.

pansy parkinson was dead fucking meat.

when you'd arrived the potions section at 7:30, at your usual study table, you'd expected to see the familiar dark hair and resting bitch face of your closest friend.

you had not expected to see your very handsome boyfriend who you were very much so avoiding. and you were most certain the only person who knew of your session tonight was pansy, thus she was the only person who could've mentioned anything to theo.

an internal sigh rolled through your being. it was going to be really fucking inconvenient to have to kill your favorite friend.

it wasn't that you were unhappy to see theo. in fact, in the days you'd been ignoring him, you'd missed him. significantly. but you were a fake. you had to try so hard at everything that should come naturally to you. being in slytherin, being a good student, hell even just being a fucking person felt like a never ending battle.

you couldn't stand the thought that one day theo might really look at you and burst his illusion of you. the thought that one day he may stop looking at you altogether? terrifying. it was easier for things to end this way, now.

one thing you hadn't anticipated is that theo is a true slytherin. when a slytherin wants something, they will stop at nothing to get it. there was nothing that could deter them. nothing that could stand in their way. and right now, what theo wanted more than anything, was you. ill conceived notions and insecurities be damned.

"you've been avoiding me, dolcezza."

theo's voice was deep and commanding. he really wanted to be soft and gentle with you, but your little disappearing act had scared the snake right out of his skin. and for that, he had to punish you at least a little.

"i haven't--"

"you have." theo stood abruptly and took a few strides towards you until your back was pressed against the bookcase behind you. "but that ends now."

shit.

shit.

theo was really close now. he had a certain look in his eyes, too. like he was a king cobra, and you a field mouse. theo was looking at you like he might consume you whole in one bite.

"i'm only going to ask you one more time." a large hand came up to palm at the back of your neck and your brain short-circuited. this man could have anything, anyone he wanted. and here he was with you. "why are you avoiding me?"

you wanted to be angry. to match his fire with fire. but you'd grown so tired of always pretending. all you could do now was cry. tears welled in your eyes and theo's demeanor changed very quickly.

"no, no, no. calma, baby." he cooed softly into your ear. his large arms circled around you in a rather warm bear hug. "don't cry."

"i'm so tired of pretending. and i'm sorry i can't be the smart popular cool girl that someone like you should be going out with."

theo's brows drew together in confusion. what on earth were you talking about? but when he really thought to himself, he saw it. the fake laughter and forced smiles in the great hall. the way that sometimes you had to try a little harder at certain assignments. you felt out of place.

at once, theo felt like a complete tosser. the one person that you should feel most at peace with was theo. and this whole time, he'd been oblivious to your internal plight. his heart broke a litte. how long had you been fighting this war against who you thought you should be, and who you really were?

"stop it." your tearful mumbling came to an end and theo could see in your eyes that you had all the wrong thoughts running through your pretty little head.

"you don't have to pretend with me. you don't have to fake anything. and there's nothing wrong with you for not being like everyone else. i was drawn to you because you're different." his words were thick with emotion, and you thought you saw his eyes get a little glassy. "it tears me up that you've been battling with yourself this whole time. i'm here to love you, y/n. please let me do that."

your mouth dropped open in shock. pushing people away had always been easy in the past. but theo wasn't finished with you.

"you can push and shove and scream at me to leave. you can argue with me, and we can fight, and you'll be right every time and you can call me names. and it's okay because i will still love you. but you don't get to turn away from something so perfect because you're afraid of the flaws that i already adore."

you stood there in his arms, tears slowly subsiding as you processed his words. every single one of them felt like they were reaching into the very core of you, unraveling the carefully constructed walls you had built. You could feel his warmth, his heartbeat, and suddenly, you weren’t so sure why you had been running. theo was here. Right in front of you. not just physically, but emotionally, too—offering something you didn’t even realize you wanted.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking once more. “i didn’t think… i didn’t think anyone could love me like that. like you do.”

theo’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if to make sure you could feel his unwavering presence. “don’t apologize.” his voice was so soft now, the commanding tone from earlier gone, replaced with something much gentler. “you’ve always been more than enough for me.”

your heart raced as you looked up at him, his eyes filled with an earnestness that sent a shiver down your spine. you had spent so long doubting yourself, so long convincing yourself that you were unworthy of something like this. but here he was, offering you everything. love. acceptance. patience.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you had to run. the fight had left you. all that was left now was to surrender to him, to this love that you had been too afraid to fully embrace. you took a shaky breath, your hands gently curling into the fabric of his jumper as you leaned into him.

“i'm scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m scared you’ll see all of me, and you won’t want to stay.”

theo cupped your face, his thumbs gently brushing away the remnants of your tears. “i’ve already seen you, dolcezza. all of you. and I’m not going anywhere.” his lips brushed against your forehead, a sweet, quiet promise.

you let out a shaky laugh, the weight in your chest beginning to lift. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you, theo.”

his response was simple, but it felt like everything: “you don’t have to deserve it. you just have to let me love you.”

you kissed him then, soft and slow, as if to seal the promise he’d just made. the kiss wasn’t a grand declaration, but a quiet, intimate thing—an understanding between the two of you that this was real, and it was enough.

theo wasn’t going anywhere. and neither were you.

maybe pansy parkinson could live.

[happilykrispypirate]

hello! I was wondering if you could write a Mattheo x sweet! Slytherin reader where the other Slytherins are picking on her because they don't believe she's a Slytherin. And maybe Mattheo saves her and tells her that he likes her.

Mattheo's Girl

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x Sweet!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, minor bullying, and my shitty writing.

A/n: Sorry for the really long wait. School year started three weeks ago and things have been hectic. I'll try to update and write as much as I can but if I don't update in a long time please don't think I'm ignoring your requests! I'll get to them as soon as I can.

-

Y/n, was the sweetest girl in Hogwarts. Many found it hard to believe she was in Slytherin.

She'd never say no to anyone, she'd always offer to help, and there wasn't a single mean bone in her body.

She was walking to class, a little hop in her step as always, when she was that a few of her fellow Slytherins were making fun of Neville. Poor Neville, she thought.

They tripped him causing all of his books to scatter on the floor while they walked away laughing.

Y/n immediately went over and helped him pick his books up.

"Sorry about them," She sighed as she helped him pick his books up.

"I'm used to it," He said which made the girl's heart ache for the boy.

"You shouldn't be. Boys like them are the reason Slytherin have such a bad name," Y/n said as they both stood up. She handed him his books.

"Atleast Slytherin has you to show that not all Slytherins are evil," Neville said smiling at her kindly.

She returned it with a bright and kind smile before saying goodbye to Neville before he walked off.

The Slytherin boys that tripped Neville didn't go far and watched the whole exchange. Giving her nasty and disgusted looks.

When Neville left they walked up to her, "You shouldn't help a pathetic excuse of a wizard like him."

Y/n turned around and faced the towering boys, "You really shouldn't bully people, it's not nice," She replied.

The boys laughed, "You're also a fucking pathetic excuse of a witch. You don't belong in Slytherin."

"I'm sorry that you think that," Y/n said, "I have to get to class. Good day to you."

She turned on her heels and walked as fast as she could, completely ignoring the calls from the boys.

Mattheo glared at the boys who were making rude remarks about Y/n as she walked away. His jaw clenched, how could anyone ever want to heart an angel like her?

-

In the common room, Mattheo and the rest of the boys in his friend group sat comfortably on the sofas. Pansy and Y/n were at the table.

Pansy was struggling in Astronomy so Y/n offered to help her.

"This stuff doesn't make sense," Pansy said sighing as she placed her head in her hands, "I'm fucking over it."

"No need to swear," Y/n said, "You just have to simplify it for yourself. Try to remember the constellations with riddles that you make up for yourself. Example, my very easy method just speeds up nothing, My is Mercury, Very is Venus, Easy is Earth and then you should know the rest."

Pansy nodded and went quiet for a moment, thinking. "Oh! I got one. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Major is Big so Great Bear and Minor is small so Little Bear."

Y/n smiled brightly, "That's one of the easiest ones but yes! You got it."

"Thank you, N/n. I don't know what I'd do without you," Pansy smiled as she leaned over and hugged Y/n.

"You're welcome, Pans. We can continue tomorrow night. I think we both need a rest," Y/n said. They packed Pansy's stuff and Pansy went to sit with the boys while Y/n took the books over to the bookshelves that were in the common room.

The boys from earlier came up behind her, "Studying hard to make up for you being a pathetic Slytherin?" One said.

"You can't cancel out the fact that you're pathetic by getting good grades you know," The other one said.

"Trying to get good grades is not an excuse to 'make up' or as you boys say to 'cancel out' anything. I'm simply determined to succeed in life. If you boys are struggling with anything. I could always tutor you," She said and they burst out laughing.

Their laughter caught his eye. His eyes immediately darkened and his demeanor changed.

"Oh I don't like that look," Enzo said as he saw the look on Mattheo's face.

Enzo turned and saw Y/n with the boys, "Oh, I see."

"They've been bothering her. Calling her names behind her back and telling her she's pathetic when she helped Neville the other day," Pansy said, "She told me about it and said it doesn't bother her, but I can hear her cry at night."

"This has to stop," Theo said.

"It will," Mattheo said as he stood up and walked over to them.

"You don't deserve to be in Slytherin you good for nothing little bi-" The one started before he was grabbed by the collar and slammed against the wall.

"You say one more thing to her, or come near her ever again, I will fuck you up," Mattheo spat in his face.

"Mattheo, stop," Y/n said trying to pull him off. Tears were threatening to fall. Things were getting too overwhelming.

"Oh yeah? Is that it?" The boy mocked, "You're not gonna kill me? Not a daddy's boy after all."

Mattheo's fist came flying into the boy's jaw. Soon enough the other boy's joined in, resulting in Theo, Enzo, Blaise and Draco to join in.

The tears ran down Y/n's cheeks as she fled the scene. Pansy trying to follow her but she lost her.

-

Y/n walked back to the common room later that night. She spent her time in the Room of Requirement, crying and trying to calm herself down.

It worked, but one tiny thing might set her off. Like the fact that Mattheo has been waiting for her the whole night long in the common room.

She bit her tongue, trying not to cry, "Where have you been?" Mattheo asked as soon as he saw her. He stood up and walked over to her, "Are you alright?"

Y/n looked at him and saw the bruises on his face along with the spots of blood.

"I'm fine, come on, let's go clean you up," She said as she pulled him to the nearest bathroom which is the bathroom in her and Pansy's shared dorm.

She made him sit on the edge of the bath as she took out a rag and put it under the running tap.

"Why did you run away?" Mattheo asked as she was cleaning his face.

"Everything got too much to handle," She replied, "You didn't have to do that. I can handle them."

"I can't," Mattheo said.

Y/n halted her movements and looked at him. He looked up and made eye contact, "What do you mean?"

"I can't handle them hurting you. I can't handle you crying yourself to sleep at night over them hurting you," He said.

She sighed, "Pansy?" Mattheo nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"I didn't want to bother you," She said.

"You never bother me," He replied as he stood up. He looked down at her, their faces mere inches apart.

Mattheo leaned down and Y/n stood on her toes just before their lips met. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he placed his hands on her hips.

They pulled apart after a few moments, lips still brushing against each other.

"I will never let anyone hurt you again. As long as you're mine, even after you're not, which by the way will never happen, no one will ever hurt you," He said.

She smiled sweetly up at him, "Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?"

Mattheo smiled, "Yes, it is," He said.

"Well, then I accept," She said.

Mattheo's smile only widened before he placed his lips on hers again.

He'll keep his promise.

No one, will hurt her ever again.

[petriwriting]

I Hate you. - Theodore Nott X Reader

Requested. Thank you lovely anon!

A/N: Reader is a gryffindor and a muggle born.

Theodore Nott hated you. You were a Gryffindor, so there was already a natural rivalry at play. He would talk over you, and sit in front of you in class so you couldn't see what was going on. He was sort of a bully, and although you did not hate him the same way. You in fact, loved him. Since the first time you saw him you had been infatuated, enamored with his mysterious and cold demeanor.

You turned to your attention towards professor snape, who had asked you a question while you were absent-mindedly elsewhere. With your head in the clouds, something about an ingridient. you mustered up the courage to try and think of an anwser, but fell short. Your face became white, others thought you might throw up or pass out right then and there.

What was most embarassing and frustrating was that Theodore Nott was laughing at you, and his laughter caused the whole class to giggle. The girls swooned at he and his friends, something about a bad boy slytherin was just so attractive.

"I-I-I'm so sorry professor," You finally stuttered out.

"What was the question?" There was an eye roll from Theodore at your clueless self. "Miss L/N," Snape quipped back. "If you are not going to pay attention I suggest you leave this class and come back when you are prepared." He snapped suddenly, now you just want to cry.

"And Mr. Nott," he stood over Theodore's desk. "Yes professor?" he said with his doe eyes, Snape always favored slytherin students, and he always rewarded them the most house points. "Might you be able to asnwer the question since you began this silly banter?" He asked with his arms folded. "Yes sir," Theo said quickly. "Mugwort is used as a physic boost, aiding in dreams and it is said to aid Legilimens by enhancing their nature powers if ingested as an infused tincture." He answered very matter-of-fact in his tone.

"Very well," Snape said. "Well done. 25 Points to Slytherin House." He said.

You shuttered in the back of the class, wanting to leave but being too proud to dip out the back of the classroom. It was a potions lecture, which could go for hours. You were embarassed and exhausted. Even if you did manage to sneak away, It wasn't safe. Students had been getting cursed outside school grounds, and even during school hours. It was wisest to wait.

. . .

Upon the end of class, you had gathered your things and tried to apologize to professor snape, but you were brushed off and dismissed as being distracted during class. It was not fair in the slightest.

On your way out of class, Theodore had bumped into your shoulder hard, without an apology. "Nott!" You exclaimed, smacking him with your text book. "Oh merlin, it's you." He said sarcastically enthused. "You didn't have to be so rude." you stated.

He rolled his eyes, his demeanor trying to remain cold and unrelenting. "It's not rude if I know the answer." he snapped. "You foolish little rat," you spat out. It just came out, you didn't want to start a fight or an argument with the boy, but you couldn't help it. You had loved him endlessly and had been nothing but kind to him, but you were at a breaking point.

"Who are you calling a rat?" He stepped up. you doubted he would be aggressive or actually violent, his friends had already scurried down the halls without him. he stood tall over you. "You, you don't always have to be such a twat!" you snap at him, your anger is apparent, your face is blushed.

"Twat?" he asked. "Really?"

you folded your arms, ready to stand your ground if need be. although the situation didn't escalate further quite as you had imagined. At Theodore's words, your face fell and tears began to run down your cheeks. they were hot.

"Don't call me a twat you blood-filthy bitch." he spat.

You had already gathered your things, rushing off and running towards the nearest exit, trying to find somewhere private. The weasley twins saw you rush past, and you could tell they felt bad.. they gave you a sympathetic look but didn't pursue you further. None of your friends were around at that time of day.

You found yourself on the castle outskirts, alone, tired, crying and vulnerable. That is when you saw the hooded figure, a black cloak, a birdlike mask. and then darkness.

. . . .

You woke up in the hospital wing, hours or maybe even days later. it was quiet, the nurses were in the corner joking with one another, your head hurt. your vision was fuzzy and you felt sick, as if there was a heat in your chest.

Madam Pomfrey rushed to your side, taking your temperature and feeling your cool, but warm feeling skin. "Oh dear," she exclaimed. "You've been cursed." she says, cursed? Your head turns to her in confusion. "We don't know how or who, but you have been. Take this," she says offering you a small purple vial of a foul smelling liquid. "healing potion, dear. It'll help lessen the curse affects." she explains.

You nod slowly, taking the vial like a shot. It tasted like burnt peppercorns and sour grapes, mixed with sand. it was awful.

"And someone left this for you," She said, gesturing to the ornate vase of colorful poppies by your bed side. "Now rest up, you will need plenty of it!" she ordered. you nodded again.

You reached over to the vase to see a little note sticking out of it. It was silver lettering that read TN. Theodore Nott. you ripped it open, angry. It was probably another insult, exploding flowers or some bastard and cruel prank. a final blow. It read the following, your eyes had to re-read to see what the cursive silver ink had written.

I'm sorry for what I said. Can we meet for a butterbeer sometime?

You rolled your eyes and ripped up the paper, tossing it onto the ground.

[ggensblog]

Hello! I saw ur post abt Barty and I was thinking smth with some angst and miscommunication (it doesn’t matter if happy or sad ending) if that would be okay, thank you 🤍

ask and you shall receive ! this kind of got away from me and somehow ended up super long- enjoy !

back to black | b.c.j.

summary: you knew barty and regulus had history, but you can't help the green monster taking over your mind

content: jealousy, miscommunication (kinda??), barty being clueless, implied past bartylus, angst (with a happy ending because im a sucker), not proof read, i still can't write dialogue, intentional lowercase, gn!reader

i do not in any way support or endorse jk rowling

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

if someone were to ask you to tell them one thing about bartemius crouch junior, you would tell them that he loved hard. that because of the cold walls he grew up in, barty learned to hold on tight to the things he cherished and never intended to let any of them go. outsiders looking in thought him to be strange, all throughout first and second year calling him obsessive and sometimes even dangerous.

not you though.

you had gotten to know barty in your third year, finally happening to be sat next to him in potions class. you had heard about him, of course, though mostly through the stories and rumors that had circled the slytherin common room. from potions partners to slowly being introduced to the inner circle, you had become yet another gem in barty’s collection.

you started dating in your sixth year, his wild declaration of love coming in the winter after a particularly cold snow-ball fight. the two of you had stayed at hogwarts through winter break along with just a few other students from different years and houses.

your christmas and new year was bliss, with barty’s attention only on you and making sure you never had enough time to wallow on the fact that you weren’t spending the holidays with your family.

once your friends had started returning to the castle, you should’ve expected there to be a shift in priorities. after all, barty had a whole month to catch up on with regulus and evan, and you had to debrief the holiday drama with dorcas.

so you found yourselves settled in front of the fire in the common room. it was late, far later than any of you should have been up, but reveling in fact that the five of you could finally enjoy some solitude as the last seventh years went up to bed.

“and then my mother just went ahead and bought him the model rocket anyway! i swear, if he never learns what the word ‘no’ means then-” dorcas paused, her eyes now trained on the more-quiet-than-usual regulus black. “reg are you alright?” her voice was softer, her tone careful- as if she was approaching a wounded animal.

regulus hummed in response, and that seemed to be good enough for her. it seemed good enough for everyone, actually. except barty of course.

the rest of the week, regulus seemed to draw back even more from his friends, seeming to only confide in barty.

you knew barty and regulus had a history. you knew they both came from broken homes. you knew that once upon a time they were all each other had.

you knew all of this, and despite it all, you grew jealous.

barty began to blow you off, excusing himself from lunch or study dates to check on regulus. the two boys became attached at the hip once more. they sat on the far end of the slytherin table and whispered to each other while you watched, stabbing your fork into the pieces of fruit on your place.

“alright there?” you whipped your head around to face evan across from you. you nodded quietly and looked down to your plate, putting your fork down and trying to engage with the conversation dorcas and marlene were having next to you.

what tipped you over the edge was the next evening.

you had a long day, finding yourself humiliated in front of class for completing an assignment wrong, and then missing lunch because you spent extra time in the library studying because of it. you were hungry, exhausted, and all together burnt out. with january in full swing, n.e.w.t.s. felt like they were right around the corner, so finding a peaceful moment was not as easy has it had been over the holidays.

you laid with barty in his bed, bundled under the emerald covers with one of your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you. you grinned up at him, admiring the glint in his eye.

“i’ve missed you lately. i feel like we never see eachother anymore..” you muttered, bringing a hand up to brush some of the hair away from his face. the rest of the dorm was empty, with everyone else at dinner or in the library.

“i’m sorry, lovely, it’s been a lot lately. i can’t seem to find time to get away.” barty whispered back to you, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as his sentence trailed.

you seem to have enough time to spend every waking moment with black.

there was that ugly green monster again. the words were on the tip of your tongue, daring to spill out. you couldn’t say that. barty was being a good friend to regulus.

but he isn’t being a good friend to you

you willed the thoughts away, feeling your chest squeeze as they kept coming.

“hey, hey- where’d you go?” barty moved his arm from your waist to hold your face affectionately. you brought your eyes back to his and let out a breath.

“i- i just feel like we should talk more. you’re always off with-” before you could finish the door to the dorm room burst open. a furious mop of black hair stormed in and to his bed. regulus sat on the edge of his bed, his fists clenched as they rested on his knees. from where you were you couldn’t tell if he was shivering from the cold or trembling because of something else. 

in an instant, barty was up and moving, flipping back the blanket so your legs were partially exposed to the cold now too. you winced at the sudden movement and sat up. barty crossed the room and knelt down in front of regulus, searching his face for a moment before turning to you.

he said your name, you looked up.

“would you mind leaving?”

your shoulders sunk. you felt like crying. you were jealous. you were angry.

your head swam. told you so, toldyou so, toldyouso, toldyousotoldyouso-

you heard your name again and looked back to barty who simply nodded to the still-ajar door. without another word you got up and left, closing the door behind you with a bit more strength than you meant.

evan came down the hallway as the door shut. you looked up at him.

“barty and regulus are busy in there,” tears forced their way to your eyes but you sniffed them back. evan’s eyebrows pinched together, then he raised one.

“do you want to talk?”

you and evan sat in the astronomy tower as you confessed everything you had been feeling for the past month. the stress, the jealousy, the loneliness. evan listened silently, nodding along and offering a shoulder for you to cry into after you were done. you had never been particularly close to evan, with him being the more quiet one of the group, you never found enough in common with him to really bond.

you sniffed and lifted your head from his shoulder. the hand he had used to draw calming circles on your back patted your shoulder once before he cleared his voice.

“and you haven’t told barty any of this?”

you shook your head. “how am i supposed to tell him ‘oh yeah i don’t want you to spend time with your best friend who is clearly struggling?’ i sound stupid.” you huffed, then added “and greedy.”

evan shrugged. “barty and regulus have been through a lot together. it seems like the holidays were particularly hard for black this year, and it’s barty’s instinct to try and make it better in any way he can.” evan turned to look back out at the sky.

“it would be his instinct to make sure you’re okay too. you know, if you told him how you were feeling anyway…” evan side-eyed you and you groaned. 

“i know, rosier, but it’s just-”

“it’s what?”

your head whipped around to the door. there stood barty, his form lit up by the light of the moon. your mouth opened and closed like a fish.

evan went to stand up, brushing off imaginary dust from his pants.

“i’ll leave you to it.” you caught the glint in evan’s eye as he walked out, shutting the door behind him and leaving you and barty in the tower alone.

you looked away from your boyfriend and out to the sky. "how's regulus?" you hated the way your voice sounded- bitter, cold.

“he's fine, or at least he will be. what was that about?” barty moved towards you, taking evan’s spot next to you. he crossed his legs and leaned back on his hands, nudging you with his shoulder.

“everything alright, treasure? did something happen? was it someone? give me a name, i’ll make sure they find appreciation for having two lungs instead of just one,” barty leaned closer to you with each question. there was almost a playful look on his face, even though you knew his words were true.

you shook your head.

“it wasn’t anyone, well it was- but it wasn’t anyone you need to go and maim.” your voice was quiet, barely there. barty would’ve missed it had there been any noise in the tower.

barty turned his body so he was fully facing you, taking your hand.

“what’s wrong, lovely? i’m here for you- you know that,” the playfulness was gone now, “right?” he finished, rubbing your palm with his thumb.

“i just- i feel like you haven’t though. been here- i mean. i know you and black have all this history and i know we’re still so new but-”

“is that what this is about? regulus? lovely, he’s had a hard year-”

“i know! gods, i know. and i don’t want you to- not- care for him, because you are such a caring person, barty, but i just- it hurts being blown off for you to go spend every moment with him. like every time there seems to be a minute for the two of us you just go and run back to him. over and over and over again.” you were out of breath by the time you finished. barty stared at you with wide eyes. you expected him to call you inconsiderate, or greedy. you half expected him to just get up and leave you right then and there.

instead he moved his hand up your arm and pulled you into his chest.

whatever tears that were left over from crying to evan were released into barty’s shirt. a hand moved into your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly as you sobbed. barty waited until you calmed down a bit before he pulled back and placed both of his hands on your shoulders.

“treasure. i would never- in a million, billion years want to be the reason you’re hurting. i am so sorry, my love, for the way i’ve treated you. and i’m even more sorry for not noticing it sooner, or at all. i am so sorry that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.” barty’s hands moved to hold your face. his face was completely serious, almost stern with himself as he recounted everything he felt like he got wrong.

“regulus needed me, and i was there for him. i would have done the exact same if you needed me. and you did, and i wasn’t there, and i am so so sorry, love. you don’t have to forgive me now, i don’t expect you to. hell, please don’t forgive me for being a complete arse to you.”

barty’s thumbs wiped away the rest of your tears. he then leaned forward to press your foreheads together. And whispered once more, “i’m so sorry.”

you nodded, accepting the apology and moving backwards.

“i’m sorry too,” you started and barty opened his mouth to protest- “no, i am sorry. for not talking to you about it. it wasn’t fair of me to be mad at you without you knowing what for.”

you weren’t crying anymore, but the trembling had yet to cease as the chill of the january air penetrated your sweater.

“can we go inside? talk?” you looked up at barty who stared at you fondly. he nodded, “anything, anything for you.” before you moved to the door of the astrology tower, barty leaned down, searching your eyes for a moment before softly pressing his lips to yours. the kiss was chaste, but still warm and full of barty’s love.

barty might have grown up in a cold home, but to his core he was entirely warm.

[ethearecals]

10 Things I HATE About: You. (part two!)

summary: James is starting to get desperate when Lily continues to reject his attempts to date her, as she reveals she's not allowed to date until her completely opposite twin sister does. which seems highly unlikely, (thats why its such a good rule). so James comes up with a grand plan to get Sirius to date her, what could go wrong?

(literally just the story of 10tihay)

wc: 1,401

pairings: evans!slytherin!reader (jeezus thats a mouthful) x sirius black

tropes: grumpy x sunshine, because of a bet

contents: angst? (if that's what we call it) to comfort, happy ending, james doesn't think before he does something, mulciber is sexist (but what’s new)

Pt: 2-3

a/n; i’d like to apologize to those who have waited so long, my dyslexia has been getting worse and worse recently and writing was something i started dreading to do, but i’m back and better then ever! thanks for a patience 🫶

(part one)

WELL, SIRIUS WAS FUCKED. and not in the enjoyable way.

how could he do this to himself, how could he do this to James? he wasn't meant to actually like you.

your rejections shamefully bruised his bulletproof ego, crushing it to pieces like a glass heart.

but they meant the world to him, he loved your routinely reluctance and the way you always seemed to be running away from him.

it was a game he was more than willing to play.

as long as you never found out everything was a bet; he could keep you forever like he was in love the whole time.

selfish, really. but Sirius Black was a selfish man.

"how was your date with the dog, Sugar?" Barty teased excitedly, jumping off the bed to run over to you.

"lovely, actually."

"I KNEW I- wait, what?" He was completely prepared for you to say it was horrid.

"lovely, i said. please don't make me say it again."

"I'm so glad it was nice, dear." Dorcas cooed, wrapping her arms around you.

"have anything in common with your loverboy?" Barty sighed dejectedly, sitting you down on the bed.

"we both like Fleetwood Mac." you admitted sheepishly, twisting your hair like some immature school girl with a crush (which wasn't exactly far off).

"that's great!" Dorcas cheered softly, taking your hand.

"I'm falling for him." you blurted out, blushing once you even realized the thought had come out of your mouth.

"that explains it." Pandora pondered.

"explains what, lil' sis?" Evan asked confusedly.

"her aura," Pandora began, "it's oddly pinkish."

"n-no, it's not." you refused.

"the nargles don't lie, Y/N."

one early morning Quidditch practice— you were on the field stretching as you heard the speakers begin to stir.

“you’re just too good to be true~”

“can’t take my eyes off of you~”

everyone on Slytherin and the other teams looked around, as you saw Sirius with a microphone belting “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Franke Valli.

what. the. fuck.

obviously— Madame Hooch had his head for it.

but he must’ve thought it was worth it, just to see you laugh at his antics.

Sirius kept the bet going, though he'd rather cut the deal and just date you regularly. like normal people do.

you, on the other hand, were unaware of the bet and were wishing Sirius would leave you alone and stop asking you out.

because your personal feelings were growing way too strong, and you didn't need some man to swoop in and save you like some damsel-in-distress. You were perfectly capable of saving yourself, thank you very much.

your singleness proved that. But why was Sirius Black, of all people, so enticing?

you kept going out with Sirius for as long as you could, until the butterflies in your stomach stopped fluttering, and the spark that ignited in your heart whenever he looked at you fizzled out.

your plan is to stop your heart from aching every time you see Sirius Black. How do you plan to do that?

spend as much time with him as possible until your conversations become boring and predictable. That should do the trick!

news flash: trying to bore yourself out of a crush didn't work at all. In fact, it backfired and now you're even more attracted to Sirius Black than before. what are you going to do now?

you were sat in potions when Peter anxiously slid a piece of paper towards you, clearing his throat and motioning you to open it.

“s’from Sirius.” he whispered, cracking his knuckles as he turned back to his Cauldron.

confused, you opened the (rather large) piece of parchment and read down the words carefully.

“My Dearest Y/N L/N,

if you are able and would like to spare an inch of your time to grace me with your lovely presence by the lake at exactly 6’o clock this evening? i’d love to have you in my company for a small surprise (though you don’t like them— it’s small, promise.).

see you there, princess?

-S.O.B (xoxo)”

your eyes skimmed over the letter, as if to check if it was fake or some sort of sick joke.

but.. nothing was exploding or falling apart so… it should be safe.

besides, you were beginning to trust Sirius. he wasn’t the worst person ever.

that thought made you severely sick to your stomach, that the rotten little first year you knew had blossomed into such a beautiful thing.

and that night was amazing.

you guys danced, joked, laughed… kissed..

it was like a fairytale.

your dreams of your very own happily ever after were squashed when you were far too young by your older yet muggle sister, Petunia.

she said there is no such thing as runaway princesses, daring sword fights, fire breathing dragons, mystical fairies, etc.

and she particularly liked telling her and Lily that happily ever after never happened, that it was a myth.

but his lips felt like happily ever after.

his gaze felt like happily ever after.

he felt like happily ever after.

“so, are you thinking about going to the spring dance?” Sirius asked gingerly, knowing you weren’t keen on the topic.

“no, it’s a stupid tradition.”

“c’mon, nobody will expect you to be there!”

“why are you so keen on this? what’s in it for you?”

he ignored your question, looking down at his pitch black painted nails.

“you need therapy, you know that?” he quipped, looking back over to your aggravated look.

“you’re ignoring my question.”

“nothing! nothing is in it for me!” he finished his sentence off with a cautious kiss on your forehead, leaving you with a soft smile.

it killed him at he lied to you.

but that happily ever after was clearly— too short.

after lovely dates and nearly becoming official multiple times, everything had come crashing down onto you.

here; let me explain.

many people would say that Sirius deserved better than you, but you learned long ago to ignore the sting of people’s words on your skin.

Sirius seemed to make it all better though.

it was annual Hogwarts spring dance season, and you usually would refuse to go.

and you weren’t crazy about the idea of a bunch of sweaty, hormonal teenagers dancing for hours on end.

but maybe with Sirius it wouldn’t be bad.

you’d even went dress shopping with Dorcas, something you would’ve never ever done.

so the night of the dance, everything went to hell.

“hey! Peter!.. have you seen Sirius?” you yelled over the loud music, the bass pounding in your eardrums.

“Pads? umm, yeah i think he’s with James!”

“Thanks.” you thanked half-assedly.

You scoured the Great Hall, messing nervously with your hair as you spotted him chatting with James.

“Pads, come on. You know i love you but you need to get a move on with this bet if you want the rewards.” James placed a strong hand on his friends smaller shoulder, not noticing you were there.

“I know, Prongs, I’ll probably just— ghost her after tonight or something, i guess.” again he felt bad lying to James, since he’d never ever dream of ghosting you ever.

but this time one of his lies caught up with him.

“nothing in it for you, huh?” His head perked up as he saw you standing infront of him, you took a disappointed glance at James and ran out of the ballroom. he followed close behind.

"would you give me a chance?" He tried to reason, following you up the staircases.

"You were paid to take me out! by the one person i truly hate. I knew this was a set up!" You yelled heart brokenly, stopping a few steps above him.

"Y/n, it wasn't like that, okay?"

"Really? what was it like? A down payment now and then a bonus for sleeping with me?"

"No, I didn't care about the money, okay? I cared... I cared about you."

You turned to face him with a countenance of both sadness and anger.

"You are so not who I thought you were." You muttered sadly.

In desperation, Sirius grabbed you and attempted to solve the issue by pressing his lips against yours, trying to recapture any spark.

but much to his chagrin, you jerked away from him. giving him a disgusted look as you fled back up the staircase towards your dorm room.

Nice one, Pads.

part three coming soon!

taglist <3:

@m1nank0 @hisparentsgallerryy @universallybilzzardlove @m4r4udersmyluvs @heyyrose @thescarletredwitch @0strawberrysorbet0 @bubbles2416

[maxdibert]

Why do you think Sirius gave up on his family? Do you think he thought they would forgive him for becoming friends with a blood traitor so he just did what he wanted but as the war progressed he realized he has to actually make a choice? Like he took it as a rebellion and angst at the beginning and only later realized how real the pressure was? Did he not love them enough? What was the deal there? (I know you are a Snape account but I love your takes on other characters as well that's why I'm asking for your opinion on this. Btw I read your fic and I love the way you write Snape's internal dilemas)

Well, you can ask me about any character—I don’t exclusively talk about Severus hahaha and i love to rant about things so... Also, Sirius? Can’t stand him. But I like him as a character because I find him so cynical and hypocritical that he’s absolutely fascinating. I’ve always had this love-hate relationship with rich kids from ultra-conservative families who play at being progressives and think they’re these righteous justice warriors but, at the end of the day, are still just privileged kids with privileged prejudices and privileged habits. And I mean that sincerely—no irony intended. I’ve met plenty of people like that in my life, and I think Sirius is a very realistic representation of the cognitive dissonance that people like this tend to have.

That said, here’s something I’ve always thought. Obviously, this is a personal headcanon based on my own experiences with people who fit his profile, but I think it holds water. Usually, people like this—those who grow up in oppressive environments and eventually become atheist anti-religion types, join the communist party to scandalize their ultra-right-wing parents, or turn into crypto bros after ditching the vegan hippie commune their parents raised them in—do this stuff in late adolescence, almost as adults. But Sirius? He starts rebelling really early, as a kid. By the time he’s 11, he already feels the need to rebel against his family.

It happens the moment he meets James, when James establishes that Slytherin is the worst. Sirius comments—offhandedly, without any resentment or anger—that his whole family’s been in Slytherin. He doesn’t seem like he’s at war with them yet, but you can tell he kind of likes the idea of not being in Slytherin just to piss them off. Add to that the fact that he hints in OotP that his dad was a pushover and calls Regulus an idiot—like he was just a fool—but he doesn’t seem truly resentful toward either of them. Sure, they didn’t have a great relationship, but when he talks about them, it’s more with antipathy than hatred. All of this leads me to the same conclusion: mommy issues.

Sirius had major mommy issues—or at least, that’s how I see it. Rich boys with daddy issues rebel by trying to become powerful men, detached from the arena where their fathers succeeded, but determined to surpass them. Rich boys with mommy issues? They turn into psychos. Seriously, that’s just how it works—I don’t make the rules. I think Sirius always clashed hard with Walburga because (and this is my favorite part, because this isn’t just a headcanon; I’m absolutely convinced of this from the little we see of their interactions—or of him with the portrait—in the books) they had the same shitty personality.

Walburga was a dominant, explosive woman with an imposing, even despotic, character. It’s very reminiscent of Bellatrix and, by extension, very much like Sirius. I think Regulus and Orion had similar personalities—the same kind Narcissa shows: arrogant, smug, classist, but restrained and composed. Egocentric, but calm. Walburga, Sirius, and Bellatrix are the other side of that aristocratic coin: the type who believe they’re entitled to everything and everyone, the kind who bulldoze over everything in their path. They’re wild and uncontrollable personalities, especially if someone tries to rein them in.

In my mind, Sirius took after his mom, and Walburga couldn’t stand having someone so much like her constantly challenging her authority. Sirius, meanwhile, couldn’t stand her trying to control him. So at age 11, his rebellion was probably just a tantrum aimed at his mom, a way to piss her off as much as possible. From there—and thanks to James’s influence, as well as the credit Sirius gave James because, spoiler-not-spoiler, James was also a rich pureblood wizard like him—he started adopting James’s worldview. Not because it was rooted in firm beliefs or clear reasoning, but because James had a family that wasn’t insane, so he was probably right. And if parroting James’s ideas at home gave his mom a few gray hairs, all the better.

It snowballed and escalated until the relationship was unsalvageable. James offered him a place to stay if he wanted to leave, and Sirius moved out. But the start of it all? A tantrum aimed at mommy. Sirius has some massive mommy issues he just can’t handle. And the funniest part? He’ll do anything to avoid being like her. He’ll go to any length to do the exact opposite of what she would do. But in the end, because they share the same awful personality, he behaves in the same violent, despotic, narcissistic way she did—just with different victims: Kreacher or Severus, for example.

It’s a brilliant little Oedipal case study.

[reysdriver]

sirius black x pureblood!slytherin!reader where he takes her home for break or for the summer and walburga and Orion are enthralled by her which pisses sirius off for obvious reasons and he distanced himself from her and eventually she confronts him and reassures him

When Sirius brings you home to Grimmauld Place over the winter break and then starts to distance himself, you feel the need to confront him and talk about what's going on — sirius x fem!pureblood!slytherin!reader hurt/comfort

warnings: themes of a toxic/abusive family

words: 0.8k

a/n: I was kinda unsure how to write this one since the family is canonically super abusive to sirius so I'm just kinda pretending they're more just cold and rude to him so I could make this, I hope you like it :)

“Regulus,” You called alongside a knock on his door, pulling his attention away from the book in his hands. “Do you know where Sirius has gone off to?”

He sat up so his back was up against the hard headboard. “He’s probably moping in his room. That’s his favourite thing to do here.”

You would have laughed at that if it weren’t for the fact that you just couldn’t find your boyfriend. “I’ve checked there.” You sighed. “But that’s alright, he’s somewhere around here.” 

After thanking Regulus politely—even if he couldn’t help find his brother—you  left his bedroom and went back to looking for Sirius. 

Over the winter break, you had noticed yourself having to play this one-sided game of hide and seek several times. It was frustrating, especially when you didn’t know why he was so distant. Nevertheless, you kept your head up and just continued the search. 

You checked the drawing room and sure enough, there he was, sitting by the window and looking outside. You walked towards Sirius and tapped him on the shoulder to show him what you had wanted to show him in the first place. 

“Siri, look at this bracelet your mother gave me. Isn’t it nice? She said I could even have the whole set as a wedding gift eventually!” You said happily, flashing him a silver bracelet adorned with small but shining emeralds. 

He flashed a tiny smile, not nearly matching your emotions or genuineness. “Yeah, love, it’s pretty.”

You could tell he obviously didn’t care. Sirius was pretty fashion forward and has been enthusiastic in the past when you’ve shown him new clothes or jewellery, so that excuse couldn’t be used. 

Running through different excuses and reasons as to why he was acting this way, you had thought that maybe he was upset that both you and his mother had been thinking about marriage. Insecurity surged throughout your whole body. 

You had spoken about marriage before, but it was never more than pillow talk or teasing jokes; was your relationship getting too real for Sirius? Was he upset that you had been talking to his family about your future together? Had he lost his feelings?

The different theories flying around in your head were getting to be too much, and you couldn’t let them go unanswered. You were determined to figure out what was going on as soon as possible. 

You sat down on the loveseat with him. You were close to him, but you still gave him enough space in case he wanted it. 

“Sirius, what’s wrong?” You asked softly. “You’ve been seeming off lately.”

He just brushed it away. “Nothing’s wrong.” 

You knew it was a lie so you kept pressing gently. “I know there’s something that’s upsetting you. Just tell me what it is so we can fix it.”

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “You can go back to hanging out with my parents, maybe they’ll give you my bedroom by the end of the week.”

That stung slightly, but it did at least partially reveal the reason for his recent distance. He was upset that his parents were so taken with you. Of course, you understood that Sirius didn’t have the best relationship with his family, but you had hoped he would be happy seeing you getting along with them. The thought of him being jealous hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

You brought a hand to his upper arm and rested it there. You tried speaking softly to make it clear you weren’t judging him at all. “Siri, are you jealous?”  

“They like you more than me.”

“They don’t. They’re just happy I’m in Slytherin. They like that they’ll have pureblood grandkids with the most Slytherin lineage as possible.” 

“But you like them too.” Sirius said sadly. 

“I only like them as much as they like you.” You explained. “If they’re gonna be awful to you, then I don’t like them at all. I can just pretend otherwise in exchange for some priceless family heirlooms.” 

There was a smug smile on your face as you shook your bracelet in front of Sirius, causing him to chuckle. 

“You’d steal from my family for me?” He asked you with a fake pout. 

You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to those soft lips you love so much. “Of course I would. And once we graduate and get the hell away from them, we’ll sell it all and buy a nice house without ever dipping into your uncle’s fortune.”

“Alright.” He sighed overdramatically. “If it’s for a great cause like that, then I think you should go ahead and ask my mother for a tour of all her priceless jewels.”

“I’ll make sure she gives me a nice brooch so we can have a pool, my love.”

[garfinkelstingle]

magic and maybes | draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader (implied slytherin!reader but only once i think)

warnings: swearing; implied mentions of verbal abuse; this is not in chronological order, but i do think it makes sense this way (especially if you've listened to the song); angst

word count: 5,2k

summary: based on “wendy” by maisie peters; loving draco is like something out of a fairytale. but not all of those always end with happily ever after, do they?

a/n: oh my!! hi!!! my first full-length fic in over a year!!!! so exciting!!!! this came to me while listening to wendy (which you should defo listen to if you haven't yet; the whole album is too good!!) and i just sort of rolled with it. i will never understand why i keep coming back to draco, but i just do. i have never written anything like this, and i certainly have never written draco like this, but the song called for it!! and also, let's be honest, this really matches draco better than it would most other characters. oh and i put it in the warning, but please beware that this is not written in chronological order. it's supposed to showcase the rollercoaster of relationship that reader and draco share, and i thought this was the best way to do it! let me know if you like it, it would really mean a lot <3 happy reading babes

masterlist

rolling like a stone / laughing like a kid

She had never seen him like this before.

Correction: She had never seen him like this before in front of people that weren't just her. Because this is the only way she had ever seen him, really seen him. She knew the charade he kept up, could see right through it better than anyone else. And if you took all of that faux meanness and excruciating ass-ness away, this is what you would be left with, what she's been left with all these years that she's known him. A silly kid, rolling around in the grass, holding his stomach laughing, eyes glistening with tears and shining brighter than any star ever could.

This is how she saw him, always, and how she hoped she would get to see him forever. This, and nothing else.

calling like the future / closed up like a fist

It was always the same. He always did this, and she swore that one of these days she would hex him into oblivion for it.

"What do you mean I can't come with you? We've been planning this for months; I told my parents to make plans without me and they have. What am I supposed to do now?" They had been at it for close to an hour now, going back and forth, nowhere close to having this argument reach its conclusion.

Usually, she didn't mind backing off. He was stubborn; she knew that. This wasn't something she had discovered only recently. She had known him for longer than she hadn't, so she was acutely aware of this quality of his. It didn't surprise her, but that didn't mean it didn't annoy her, either. So she'd just let it slide and move on—one of them had to.

This time, however? She wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm not responsible for you and how you spend your time," he provocatively stated, his eyes ablaze with fury that nearly matched hers. How dare he? As if this was in any way, shape, or form her fault.

"You have got to be kidding me! You were the one who invited me to spend Christmas break at your house! You were the one who wanted me to meet your parents! You were the one who made all these grand plans, and now you just blow me off the day break starts and talk about responsibility?" She couldn't believe him. She really, truly, couldn't.

Except that, maybe, she should. This wasn't the first time Draco blew off their plans. In fact, it wasn't even the second or the third. But he usually had a not-so-terrible reason for it, and the worst thing he had ever cancelled before was a Saturday in Hogsmeade or a picnic by the lake. This, however? This was huge, a plan that had been set into motion during the summer, when they had sent their owls into a frenzy, corresponding through multiple letters a day and vowing not to spend another break apart. She had told her parents before she boarded the train to take her back for another year at Hogwarts, that she would spend the Christmas break with her boyfriend and that they should take that trip to the sea they've been dreaming of forever. And since they did just that, and she didn't feel like ruining their holidays as well, she would now have to spend hers at the dingy castle, with people she barely knew and couldn't care less about.

She didn't even need him to change his mind at this point. While the reason he was giving her sucked, she was sure the real reason didn't—even if he wasn't planning on telling her. What bothered her so much was his refusal to just simply apologize for screwing up and leaving her hanging. If he would just say that he was sorry, she'd let this go. But she knew him well enough by now to know that the chances of that happening were non-existent at best.

"I will not apologize for your lack of a backup plan," he said, with a voice so cold that she could feel actual shivers run down her back. "I will see you after break is over. Merry Christmas." And with that, he turned around and made his way back to the castle, without even sparing her a backward glance.

And all she could do was stare after him, seemingly frozen in place, with tears flowing down her cheeks freely, and wonder if this was what loving someone was supposed to feel like.

lost my page when you kissed me

She hadn't meant to fall in love with him. They had been friends, or at least something very close to it. Draco believed that only people who had nothing else to their name cared about having friends, and she somewhat agreed with him. Friends were feeble; people came and went. There was no use getting attached to them, not when you couldn't ever be a hundred percent certain that they wouldn't just up and leave one day.

But he—he was something else. They had known each other for years, attending the same balls thrown by both their parents and their associates, riding in the same train compartment on their first trip to Hogwarts, reading the same books side-by-side on their common room's couch. They were put in each other’s orbits due to their inescapable proximity, yes, but they were welded together by baked goods that they would steal from the kitchen and share in some dark corner of the too-big houses they would be dragged to, shy smiles and squeezing of hands followed by it's okay, you're not alone's, two a.m. conversations in front of the fireplace in which they discussed whatever books they just finished reading and, sometimes, maybe even more. That's what made her the first person he would say "good morning" to at the breakfast table, and what made him her preferred potions partner. Nothing more and nothing less. They weren't friends, but they were each other's person. Whatever that meant.

It made sense, and it worked, and neither of them needed more. Or so she thought. Because when Draco kissed her after one of those infamous two a.m. conversations and told her „You just looked too pretty not to kiss", after she asked him why he would do something so ridiculous, she came to realize that maybe they were wrong. Maybe getting attached to someone wasn't the worst thing there was. It couldn't be. Right?

i know the girl you want / it scares me

He was scared. He was scared, but so was she. The future was uncertain and terrifying. It didn't make sense on a good day and was simply revolting on a bad one. So much could go wrong at any given moment in time, and not knowing when or what could happen made it sometimes feel like, maybe, life just wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

And when you add love to that equation? You're pretty much just signing off on a death sentence. Draco knew that, and so did she, but unlike him, she believed it to be worth it. Love was never something she saw herself needing, or even wanting, but now that she had it, she was certain it was worth all the heartbreak it might possibly entail. Draco, however? He still didn't trust her enough to let his walls down completely, to give her the power to destroy him and believe her when she said that she would never, ever do that.

She loved him, and she was certain that he loved her, too, but she also knew that he might never be able to let her know that himself. And she knew that he expected that to be enough, that her own knowledge would suffice her and that she would survive without his confirmation, and maybe she could. She just wasn't sure if she wanted to. Spending your time with someone who was emotionally closed off to everyone around you and made them feel like they were replaceable was one thing, but spending your life with someone who was emotionally closed off toward you and too proud to tell you that the one person he could never replace was you? She wasn't sure if she was strong enough for that. She doubted she ever would be. And that terrified her more than anything else ever had before.

pretty like a girl / vicious like a man

He was beautiful. She had always found him inexplicably beautiful; his was the kind of beauty poems were about, a beauty that ran so deep and was so intricate that she sometimes wondered if he wasn't put on this world solely to be admired and stared at.

Even now, when his face was laced with fury and his knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping his desk, he was still beautiful.

She wasn't even sure what they were fighting about now, stopped paying actual attention to the ugly words leaving his mouth. Instead, she was questioning her judgment. She had always found him beautiful on the outside, just as everyone else did, but unlike them, she had also always considered his soul to be beautiful, too. And yet here she was, target to his livid shouts and insults, wondering if maybe that was just another thing that she had been terribly, terribly wrong about.

give up like a ghost / leaving halfway through

It was moronic at best, really. They had spent a fortune on these tickets and had been excited for this game for months now. So, the fact that they were now letting it all go to waste? It was pure idiocy.

Especially when you looked at the why. He was being a child, a petulant little toddler who got upset at the idea of giving his girlfriend of nearly four years a kiss in public.

And the worst thing is that she hadn’t even been upset because it hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. She knew Draco, knew that he liked keeping their PDA to an absolute minimum, and she didn’t mind it in the slightest. Or, well, not enough to be actively affected by it. So, when the kiss-cam panned to their faces, she blew it a kiss and winked for good measure and went back to talking to Draco about how pathetic Potter and his friends looked standing there on the very far side of the stadium, most likely not even able to see the scoreboard. She had moved on, and so had the camera, but for whatever reason, Draco didn't.

Instead, he started huffing and puffing about Salazar knows what, getting upset at her for what, exactly? For respecting his need for privacy? For not pushing him to do something she knew he wouldn’t be comfortable with doing, even though she really wanted to? For, once again, putting him first and foremost? Is that what he was trying to punish her for? Because he certainly didn’t seem to be able to put it into words, storming off like an actual imbecile instead, leaving halfway through the match.

And of course, she had to follow him like the ever-loyal girlfriend that she was, trying to catch up with him and calm him down, even though she was seconds away from losing her bloody mind herself. She was sick and tired of his juvenile behaviour, was just so exhausted with having to put up with his shit instead of just enjoying herself, and yet it seemed as if some invisible string kept on pulling her in his direction, not allowing her to choose her own needs and herself, ever.

She wondered if he would ever grow tired of this pretence of his, or if this was what being with Draco Malfoy would entail, forever. She didn’t want to believe it, but it became harder and harder with each passing day. Maybe this is who he was, who he always would be.

But maybe it was just a matter of time before he would finally give it all up and be who she has blindly believed him to be all this time. All she could do, it seemed, was to hope that she wouldn’t be the one to give up, first.

if i'm not careful we'll be married

"Do you ever think about the future?" His voice broke through the quiet reverie they had both found themselves in. She was used to him being the first one to speak up after a long beat of silence; he didn't find it quite as peaceful and tranquilizing as she did. Not that she minded, though. She liked his voice, and she liked talking to him even more. To say that the question surprised her, though, would be an understatement.

Putting the book she was currently reading to the side, she snuggled further into him. The fireplace was providing a fair amount of heat, but the chill seemed to be inescapable in the Slytherin common room. It was also just very nice to be able to have him hold her close like this, even if the only reason he did so was because it was far past midnight and everyone else was already fast asleep.

"Sometimes, yeah," she said. "Do you?"

"Yeah." She didn't expect him to elaborate, so it stunned her when he did. "I see us. You and me, together. Married. But not like them. Like us. Does that make sense?" It did. She knew exactly what he meant. Not like them. Not like his parents, who didn't love each other in the slightest and could barely stand each other most days. And not like her parents, either, who cared deeply about one another, at least as much as you could care about someone you didn't choose to marry. They found a way to be friendly and cordial, mainly because they didn't want their daughter to grow up with parents who were constantly at each other's throats, but it was still far away from the real deal.

Were they the real deal? That's what Draco was implying, wasn't it? That if they would get married, it'd be because they loved each other. He's never even said it, she thought. And he hadn't. But he's said this now, hadn't he? And that should be worth more than any stupid three words ever could be, right? Because he wanted to marry her, really marry her, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. It rarely happened for people of their status, so she should be beyond delighted that it was happening to her. Plus, she loved him, too, and unlike him, she hadn't been afraid to say those three words. Marrying Draco was what she was supposed to want; finding out that he wanted to marry her, too, was supposed to be the greatest news she's ever heard. So why was there some nagging part of her brain that knew that saying yes would be the worst thing she could possibly do?

"I know what you mean," she said. She had never lied to him before.

you want me / you're sure

Blaise Zabini was flirting with her. Then again, Blaise Zabini flirted with everything that had legs and a mouth he could kiss, so it did nothing to impress her. It did, however, do its damage by making Draco furiously jealous. After all this time together, she prided herself in being able to read him like a book. Him storming off like a petulant child made her think that, in this instance at least, even a visually impaired person would be able to deduct the fact that he was (unreasonably) upset.

Sighing, she made out to follow him, annoyed that she had to make yet another excuse for her friends. It shouldn't be her job to smooth things over every time his tantrums killed the mood at a get-together, and yet it seemed like part of the "Dating-Draco-Malfoy" package.

She found him at the lake, the same way she always did. She wondered if there was any specific reason he chose this place to run off to , but she doubted he would tell her even if there was. Some secrets just weren't worth the effort of trying to figure out.

She expected him to be upset with her, to accuse her of leading Zabini on and whoring herself out to him—Salazar knew it wouldn't be the first time. It used to upset her beyond measure. There would be a good amount of crying and screaming on her part; calling him a pretentious douche, telling him to screw off if he really thought so little of her. It always ended the same: he would storm off, eventually, and disappear for a good few hours. Then, he'd come back, without something even remotely close to an apology, and tell her he wasn't mad anymore. She knew what he really meant when he said it: I expect you not to be mad anymore, either. And even when she was, she was usually too exhausted to keep on fighting. After a while, she decided there wasn't even any point in being upset in the first place. Draco was who he was; she knew what she was getting into. Or so she kept telling herself.

This time, however, seemed different. She was sure he could hear her approach him—he always did. So why wasn't he turning around? Why wasn't he yelling at her and making her feel as if the affection of others was her fault?

He stayed quiet until she finally reached him and made to stand next to him. "I don't like it when others try to make a pass at you," he said. She waited a beat, wondering if he was going to add anything else. He did. "I know I have no right to be upset with you." This was new. It surprised her. So much so that she wondered if she might've misheard. "It's not your fault Zabini has no respect for boundaries, or anyone else, for that matter. I just... it's paralyzing, sometimes. Realizing that you could leave me for someone else at any given moment, and there's nothing I could do about it. I want to be with you. I know I'm not always good at voicing it, but I do. I'm certain. That's why I get upset. Because it terrifies me."

She took his hand in hers and gave the back of it a soft kiss. This was possibly the most vulnerable he had been with her, ever. She understood him; of course she did. Didn't he know that she was just as terrified? That a life without him in it didn't seem to make any sense whatsoever to her? She loved him, and now she was sure that he loved her, too.

Nothing else mattered.

lose the world that you live in / pretend that it's what you wanted

“This isn’t okay, and you know it.” Maybe she did. Maybe she knew that this wasn’t right, that this wasn’t how it was supposed to feel like. But it’s all she’s ever known, and sometimes it felt as if this was all she’d ever want to know. Because when it was good it was great. It was all she could ever want and then some, and she honestly didn’t think she would ever find anything better than it.

Draco wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. She had her flaws just like anyone else, so to expect him to be something she herself couldn’t be? That seemed unfair and illogical at best.

“Look, you don’t get it, alright?” And she didn’t. None of them did. Not her mother or her father, not her friends or his. They were complicated and messy, but they were right. Right for each other, right in all the ways that mattered. She loved him, and he loved her. If there was anything in life she was sure of, then it was that.

“You can’t let him treat you like that.” That’s what it always boiled down to. Every fight she ever had about him—and there were probably too many to count—always came to the same conclusion: She shouldn’t let him treat her like that. But what did that even mean? No one would ever treat her the way he did. No one would ever look at her as if she was the reason they got up in the morning, as if she hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. No one would ever be able to make her feel like she was the thing they lived for, someone they’d die and kill for in the same breath.

So, what if he’d yell at her and insult her and make her question her worth sometimes? He’d never allow her to question herself out loud to him; he’d make sure to show her how important she was to him. And Salazar forbid someone else dared to say the wrong thing when it came to her—he’d made sure it’s the last thing they’d ever say.

Maybe she knew it wasn’t okay, what they were doing. There were a million words to describe their relationship, with toxic and unhealthy being the prime examples. But no relationship was perfect. Why should theirs be?

it's a life i could have, i know

They were invited to someone's birthday. She didn't even know whose, just knew to wear "that green dress that makes you look like actual royalty". There also had been a promise by a certain someone that the dress would later be carefully taken off, and that there would be some... not so careful actions afterwards. It was the prospect of that that kept her from making up some excuse as to why she suddenly had to leave this awful and hollow house and curl up with a book and one of Draco's sweaters in her bed.

The party in itself wasn't awful; on the contrary, it was lovely. The music was played by a live orchestra, and the entire house was decorated in different shades of blue and silver. There were white roses everywhere, and the food was exceptional, too. But she didn't know anyone here except for Draco; she didn't even know the birthday girl. She was a couple years older than the two of them, and from what she understood she was the wife of a son of a business partner of Draco's father. Or something like that.

She was currently standing in a corner all by herself, with a champagne flute in hand, trying to find Draco in the crowd. He had snuck off some time ago, claiming that he had to make the rounds or else "my father is going to chew my ear off about it", convincing her that it wasn't necessary for her to introduce herself tediously to every single person he would have to shake hands with. He wasn't wrong, but somehow standing in her lonely corner appeared to be an even worse fate.

Eventually, she locked eyes with Draco and gave him a small smile. She knew it was pointless to beckon him to her; he'd just shrug her off. Instead, he sent a quick wink her way, before turning back around to speak to whatever important person he was speaking to right now.

This could be my life, she thought. Going places with Draco, having him wink at her from across the room, promising to take her dress off at the end of the night and make it all worth it. This could be the rest of her life. She could see it, could see herself be one of the important men’s wives, gossiping away in some lonely corner just like hers, on their fifth or sixth flute of champagne already, trying to hide the hollow look in their eyes. This could be it. It was nothing like the life that she had wanted for herself all this time, and yet it didn’t seem to bother her nearly as much as it should.

throw your rocks / scream that you hate me

She didn’t even know how long it’s been. All she knew was that her mother had been up twice to tell her that she was this close to hexing him away from their property, and that she had begged her just as often not to.

“He has every right to be upset,” she had said, and could feel the bile rise in her throat at the bitter taste of the lie. Because no matter how often she told herself just that, it didn’t sound any more truthful to her ears than it did the time before. Yes, maybe Draco was allowed to be upset. She certainly was. But standing below her window, completely wasted, and throwing rocks at it, whilst yelling profanities at her? No one should have the right to do that.

And it wasn’t as if it was her fault, either. She had given him a choice; she shouldn't have had to do that. She hadn’t even meant to. It was supposed to be clean cut. She was supposed to tell him that it was over, that it should have been over a long time ago. If he still couldn’t tell her that he loved her after five years together, chances were that he never would. And she was just so tired of not hearing those words.

But she had looked him in the eyes and something—something made her believe that maybe, just maybe, he would realize that she was worth so much more to him than his pride and that being with her was worth more than being whoever he kept on pretending to be.

She should have known that her stupid, childish hope would be the death of her.

So here he was now, screaming that he hated her, that he wished that he had never met her, that being with her had been the greatest mistake of his life. And what if he wasn’t wrong? Would things had been different had she been different? Would he have been able to tell her how he felt if she had been more like Daphne? Would she have been able to leave him sooner and protect her own heart had she been more like Pansy?

It was driving her mad, the never-ending question of “what if?”, and yet her silly mind didn’t seem to be able to put an end to it. Because no matter how awful being (or in this case not being) with Draco may have been, it was still the most magical time in her life so far. And she didn’t even doubt for one second that the rest of her life might have been just as magical, too. Except that there was only so long a person could survive on magic and maybe’s, before eventually having to put an end to the madness and realize that the whimsical dreams weren’t anything other than nightmares hiding behind a pretty façade.

She loved Draco, loved him with her entire being, loved him more than she could ever imagine loving or even wanting to love anyone else. But, somehow, along the way, she had come to realize that just because she couldn’t see ever loving herself even half as much as she loved him, it was still enough to realize that leaving him was the only way she could ensure that she wouldn’t lose herself completely.

So, when her mother came up for the third time, this time with her father in tow, she didn’t fight them when they suggested to call the authorities to remove the Malfoy boy from their property. After all, just because Peter never wanted to grow up, didn't mean Wendy couldn’t.

i could love you / wait 'til you're ready

It was the little things more than it would ever be the big ones. She knew Draco, knew that the only way she could expect big romantic gestures from him was if someone were to put him under a spell, which is why she came to appreciate the small gestures and hold them as close and dear to her heart as she possibly could.

It was the little enchanted paper cranes that would hold little love notes of “your hair looks pretty today” and “how lucky I am to be dating the smartest witch in this castle”.

It was how he would lend her his robe without a second thought when he would see her rub her hands together in a fruitless attempt of warding off the cold, even though he had adamantly tried to convince her to wear a jumper underneath.

It was how he would press a kiss on her temple first thing in the morning, without fail, every single day, no matter if they had fought the previous evening or not, letting her know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

It was how he would rub her feet at the end of a long day in Hogsmeade, knowing that her boots were a size too small but that she loved them too much not to suck up the pain and go out with them anyways.

She loved him, and whilst she had no problem with telling him just that, he had no problem with showing her, either. And maybe he wasn’t lying when he told her that he just needed time, that she ought to just be patient, that sooner rather than later he would feel ready enough to say it, too.

The question wasn’t whether she could wait or not; she knew she could.  The question was whether she loved herself enough to know that she shouldn't have to.

forever 20

Twenty.

That’s how often she had said it, and how often he had stayed quiet. And every time he hated himself just a little bit more because he knew that with every time that she would say it without hearing a reply, he would get closer to hearing it for the last time.

And now here he was, stuck at twenty, forever, because he knew her well enough to know that it was over, really, truly over, with no one to blame but himself.

The worst thing was that for every time she said it, he had wanted to say it tenfold, had wanted to shower her with those words until she grew sick and tired of them. Had, on the worst days, wanted to just grip her by the shoulders and shake, shake, shake her and tell her, over and over, that he loved her, that he had loved her all this time and would love her for all the time to come.

But he never did, and now she was gone beyond his reach and as much as he hated it, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that, maybe, this was the best thing that had ever happened to her. The best thing he had ever done for her. And that had to count for something, right?

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Twenty-seven

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt-comfort

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

Their return to Rome was made in colder weather and was a bit more weighed down with gifts and souvenirs and books they joked they ‘rescued’ from the French. They looked upon returning to work with a measure of dread although Tom enjoyed a certain nervous energy at the prospect of using the Polyjuice potion. He hadn’t used one since he needed to sneak into the Headmaster’s office in fifth year. She was sniffling a bit and coughing on the train but they put that down to how early they had to wake up that morning, running on no breakfast too. They bought a few things from a shop near the station, loading their already bursting luggage with cheese and sausages and a whole box of sweets. The croissants they saved for eating on the train and shared between them a baguette with butter.

It was Friday when they returned to Rome and there was nothing left for them to do but return to their own flats.

Tom wouldn’t get to see her again until Monday… It was strange after so many days spent with one person to be alone again, in a silence that felt hollow rather than peaceful, in a bed that remained cold all night. He didn’t miss her though… That couldn’t be. Although it did make him ask himself the uncomfortable question of how he’d feel once all of this was over and he went back to England all alone.

II

He saw her sooner than he thought he would. Something compelled him to pick up the phone and call her on Saturday afternoon when he was sure she’d had her fill of sleep. The voice that answered was, however, not her own.

“Hello?” Raspy, frayed, almost choked up and sore to even hear.

“Is that you?” Tom asked.

“Tom? Hi!”

He frowned, trying to imagine why she’d sound so different. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” she answered, a shifting sound making its way to him as she plopped down onto the armchair.

“You sound awful.”

“I am.”

He sighed and moved the receiver to his other ear. “What happened?”

“I might have caught a cold while travelling… How do you feel?”

“Good enough, I suppose.”

“That’s good,” she smiled.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Oh yes, plenty of food, some aspirin… I’ll be alright in a few —” And there she cut off, moving away from the phone to cough into her elbow, but Tom heard it anyway. “— a few days.”

“Really?”

“I was overdue a cold, really. Haven’t had one in years.”

Tom hummed, displeased with everything that he was hearing. An urge itched beneath his skin, his feet and hands suddenly restless.

“I’ll come to you.”

“No! You might — might catch it too,” she said, her voice strained with the suppressed urge to cough again.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Tom, I m-mean it,” she said with a sniffle and a sigh. “If I’m not good on Monday, you’ll have to hold the fort.”

“Which is exactly why I want you to get better soon,” he said with a wry smile. “Now go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He hung up before she could protest anymore and started packing a few things to take to her. He was sorry now that he hadn’t brought along a Pepperup Potion or bought one while they were in Paris. Tom rarely got sick himself so it hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Damn it, there’s nowhere to buy the ingredients from either… Maybe Mandrake root, but that’s hardly enough. Damn muggles,” he cursed as he rifled through his pantry.

It took a little while from when he knocked on her door until she answered. When he saw her he could tell why. Her sheepish smile, her tired eyes, her messy hair, and the fact that she was in her pyjamas told him she had been wallowing in bed.

“Hello,” she said with a strained voice.

Tom greeted her by bringing the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I know that,” she mumbled and walked back inside.

Tom closed the door behind them and started taking his coat off. He moved on to the kitchen and put a kettle on with a low fire. His feet sounded up and down the creaky floorboards while he set everything up. She stood against the wall and watched him, her arms in a tight hug around herself, coughs bursting now and then unbidden and muffled by her elbow. She winced with every motion and although she tried to hide it even her back was bent as if it was a struggle to stand up.

“You should go back to bed,” he said, frowning at her.

“It’s nice to see you too. What are you doing?”

He turned again and started chopping something up, his eyebrow cocked at her stubbornness and curiosity. “I’m making tea,” he said evasively. “Now, go back to bed. Are you wearing socks, at least?”

“Yes, mother,” she grumbled.

He shot her a cold look over his shoulder and that finally sent her away.

“I have wine in the cupboard,” she shouted from bed, her voice breaking at the edges of each word. “Help yourself.”

“I think we’ve had enough wine in France, don’t you?”

She grumbled something that wasn’t quite a word but Tom looked for the wine anyway. It at least gave him some ideas…

None of what he had to work with was magic but it would have to do. The properties of plants that muggles had access to were not quite easy to extract without the proper spells or incantations while they grew and so their power was diminished. Still, there were a lot of things that he could do even with what she had lying around the house and what he’d bought at the little shop around the corner. He walked into the bedroom a while later, a full plate on his hands. She lay in bed curled up and reading, more sapless than he had seen her even after the most gruelling day of work.

“What’s that?” she asked as soon as she saw him, raising herself to a sitting position against the pillows.

“Have you eaten?” Tom asked instead of an answer.

She tried to speak but coughed instead, covering half her face with her sleeve and groaning all the while. From her frown, he could tell it hurt her.

“Muscle pains?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Erm, I had an apple this morning. And two cups of tea.”

“Pathetic,” he mumbled, setting the plate down on her bedside table. “I’ve brought you buttered toast and in that mug is chicken soup with garlic and hot peppers. And here,” he continued, picking up another mug carefully by the handle and giving it to her, “is something that should help with that nasty cough. Breathe it in while it’s hot, then drink it.”

“What is it?”

“Careful, it’s scalding.”

She pulled her sleeves over her hands and took it. When she brought it to her face to give it a smell she immediately recoiled.

“It’s just something the nurses used to give us when we caught a cold during the war, at the orphanage,” said Tom as he turned around to stir the soup. “Rationing was pretty tough in England back then. Still is. People learned to make do with what they had.”

She seemed to believe him, watching him with wide eyes in silence. Beside the bed in an improvised bin made out of an old shoebox, he saw a pile of used tissues, and now that he paid attention her nose seemed a little red as well. He frowned, upset with her for being so fragile, and yet not feeling the burn of anger much at all.

“I found a way to slip into it a few special ingredients,” he said with a faint smile. “How is it?”

She breathed it in again and winced, tears beading at the corners of her eyes. “It feels like it goes right through me…”

“It’s hot wine with cloves, red pepper, ginger, and a bit of nutmeg.”

“Smells awful… Makes me dizzy.”

“Yes, well, I wager it’s better than a stuffy nose. You sound like a duck.”

He got up to go rifle through her drawers and came back with a towel. Without asking, he covered her head with it like a veil and pulled it over the mug as well, forcing her to breathe in its sharp fumes. She sighed but obeyed, inhaling the foul concoction that, in truth, had more ingredients than he admitted. He wasn’t sure she’d go through with drinking it if she knew, or at least she’d think him crazy, but he cared more about seeing her back on her feet and by his side. His hand went down to her back and he rubbed her gently, feeling her breathe in and out as he muttered the only soothing spell he knew.

He turned on the radio to fill the silence between them, knowing that she needed some distraction. He stopped searching when he heard an opera — The Magic Flute. Outside the sun was already setting, fading earlier each day. Tom looked out the window while she struggled with his brew, his gaze of cold disgust falling on the overflowing trash bins, the shits of stray animals drying on street corners, the vagrants ambling off toward the bar…

“Never thought I’d miss Paris,” he sneered.

She laughed from underneath the towel and in between coughing she rasped, “Want to go back?”

“Not until you’re better.”

He couldn’t criticise her much for her poor choices. He had much the same view on Knockturn Alley although there the streets were dark enough that he couldn’t see most of the horrors. Only smell them if he opened the window.

She drank as much of the hot wine as she could, complaining the whole time. Some of the ingredients got stuck between her teeth and she spent a good while picking them out and placing them beside the soggy toast. She got maybe halfway through it before it cooled too much to be effective. Tom sighed and yanked it from her, handing her the chicken soup that he was quick to heat again with a nonverbal spell.

“You can go home, you know,” she said in between coughs. “I don’t want you catching something.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

She eyed him suspiciously, disbelieving what he said, but Tom knew a common cold was not enough to take him down. Alas, he couldn’t explain that to her, just like he couldn’t explain why that concoction was so strong or why it was already working to clear her stuffy nose. A large part of his life would forever have to be closed shut to her and he could never even say so or be able to explain why.

“Sit down at least,” she said. “Eat something.”

So he sat beside her on the bed, legs hanging off the side and swinging unconsciously to the tune of the music on the radio.

“What will you do if I’m not well by — achoo — by Monday?” she asked. “You’ll have to inform Berit, you know? That I’m not there. My pay will have to be — cough — deducted.”

“I’ll work mostly upstairs,” Tom shrugged, chewing on a piece of toast. “I’ll phone the Baron’s office too. Don’t worry about them.”

“Ugh, the new university year just started. We get a lot of students around this time, mostly from the History department. Looking for old maps and such. You can expect a busy week.”

“We’ll have to be downstairs more often than not, though.”

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. That wretched auction…”

Tom opened his mouth to speak but another round of coughing caught her. She clutched her stomach again when she was done, her eyes closed shut in pain.

“You need sugar,” he said, “something sweet. It will help with the muscle soreness.”

“I have you, don’t I?” she smiled “You’re sweet enough.”

Tom scoffed. “Don’t count on it. And stop talking about work for once. I swear, it’s like you’re intent on making yourself sick.”

He shuffled uncomfortably on the bed. It wasn’t even seeing her so sick that made him feel strange, it was that he seemed to care more about her health than she did. She was silent for a moment, then frowned at him quite fiercely. Without even a word she handed him the soup back and turned over on her side.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Don’t get petulant now.”

“You’re so pushy and mean. I’ll be fine on my own. I don’t need your charity.”

“I only want to see you get better.”

“Oh, just take your mumbo jumbo and your medieval potions and go away, Tom.”

That hurt him more than he expected. To have his help rejected was one thing, but after all the trouble he’d gone through to find even those few ingredients, to put them together for her — which in truth was not much trouble, but it was more than he’d done for anybody else — all to have it thrown in his face as a “medieval potion”… Well, he shouldn’t have expected more from a mere muggle.

“Fine then. Be sick and on your own. I don’t care.”

She peeked over her shoulder at him as he got up from the bed. He could tell her eyes were red but he pretended to see none of it as he prepared to leave. He could hear her coughing, whining, and weakly call his name as he picked up everything he’d brought and left her flat.

III

Tom’s anger enveloped him like a shroud, trailing after him all the way home. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to care for a sick person… Wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to care at all or had any better bedside manners other than what he’d seen at Wool’s. Forcing someone to drink some mysterious medicine was the normal way to deal with these things, wasn’t it? Still, she could have been a bit more grateful, a bit more… open-minded.

In truth, he realised, as he reached his dingy flat and could finally shut away the world outside, that her reaction — however justified by aches or fever — brought back his worst fears about her: that she could never accept him as a wizard, that she would be horrified, recoil, just as his father did when he learned his mother was a witch. That deep wound which started festering in his second year when he found out the truth was scraped back open by her words and now he could not close it. He hated her for a full day, distracting himself with measly research he cared too little about. On Sunday, he almost phoned her but found enough reasons not to — maybe she was still sick and stuck in bed, maybe she was mad at him, maybe he would just make things worse.

He wouldn’t see her again until Monday.

[atlasdoe]

wait i would love to hear your thoughts on ravenclaw marlene...

Oh my god oh my god oh my god OKAY

RAVENCLAW MARLENE MY BELOVED

Firstly, I have always headcanoned Marlene to be from Ravenclaw because the first Marauders fic I read that featured her (The Marauders series by Pengiwen which I will always recommend, you can read it on wattpad and ao3) She was a Ravenclaw and then when I first started posting in this fandom which was in 2018 and I was in the video editing side of Instagram there was like 10 of us and a few of them also saw Marlene as a Ravenclaw. Even tho her being a Gryffindor had always been more popular it wasn’t uncommon back then to see someone hc her as Ravenclaw.

I have just always loved this head canon and they could never make me hate it. I find it very frustrating how a lot of fans will complain about how in the original series all the good guys are Gryffindor and all the bad ones are Slytherin while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff get overlooked but then do the exact same thing with The Marauders characters.

The way I see Marlene I don’t see her as the smartest in her class or the most skilled. I think she was sorted into Ravenclaw because of her creativity and her logical outlook on life. She’s not exactly booksmart but she’s very clever and can use her knowledge elsewhere.

And I love what she brings to the Ravenclaws as a whole. Everyone has a different opinion on who was apart of The Marauders year and which house everyone was in but here’s my personal head canon on Marlenes dynamic with the other Ravenclaws in her year. (I still head canon that she was apart of The Marauders year)

Emmeline Vance was her best friend and I mean like James and Sirius type shit. Emmeline and Marlene are those cute opposite attracts besties where Emmeline is more booksmart Marlene is more streetsmart but yet somehow they share one braincell.

Hestia Jones is Marlene’s worst enemy. They got off on the wrong foot when they first met and ever since kept finding new reasons to hate each other. There was no peace.

Sybill Trelawney was someone that Marlene liked and respected but wasn’t friends with mainly because Sybill was best friends with Hestia. It was a sort of agreement between the four girls that Marlene got Emmeline and Hestia got Sybill so while Marlene never disliked her she never saw her as anything other then an extension to Hestia

Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of the only people who Marlene would let take care of her. He was two months younger then her and yet still somehow her big brother. When she would go off the rails he was the one who would pull her back

Gilderoy Lockheart was Marlene’s weak point. When they first met in their first year Gilderoy told her about his two older sisters who were squibs and how they didn’t like him because he was a wizard (leaving out the fact that he was heavily favoured by their parents and extremely arrogant) and Marlene’s older sister instincts came out. She was always the one to call Gilderoy out on any of his bullshit and always made sure to humble him but could never truly dislike him. If Kingsley was her big brother then Gilderoy was her little one. They both also bonded heavily over Quidditch

(canonically Gilderoy was born in 1964 but i got too attached to him being in this year before i noticed that he's a few years younger so please just play along)

Alexander Stabbins was someone Marlene was friendly with but not friends with. Alexander and Hestia had this whole academic rivals to lovers thing going on and Marlene was Alexanders biggest supported when it came to him taking down Hestia. Realistically, Marlene knew that they fancied each other and dreaded the day when she wouldn’t have their arguments as entertainment. Either way, Alexander was company she was never upset to have

ALSO TO SING US OUT HERE ARE A BUNCH OF RAVENCLAW MARLENE HEADCANNONS

- She was the Quidditch captain during her fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts. During her sixth year she captained Hogwarts first ever all girls team

- After a night out in her sixth year she, Emmeline, Kingsley and Alexander got locked out of the common room because they were too drunk to solve the riddle to get in

- SHE LOOKED SO FUCKING GOOD IN BLUE YALL. SO FUCKING GOOD

- As you could’ve probably guessed from her dynamics with her house mates, the Ravenclaw class of 1978 got into a lot of arguments. They argued like they were dysfunctional cousins at a family reunion. One time during their second year a fight got so out of hand that Flitwick locked them in the charms classroom and made them do team bonding exercises as a punishment

- Speaking of Flitwick, Marlene respected him a lot as he helped her come to terms with her sexuality and the homophobia from her family by telling her about the discrimination that he had to face being half elf

- During her sixth year Marlene sent out gift baskets to James Potter, Dorcas Meadowes and Edgar Bones (the other three Quidditch captains) and left them a note saying that she hopes the gift basket is enough of an apology in advance for destroying them during the Quidditch season. (Dorcas set hers on fire)

RAVENCLAW MARLENE THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU

[officialsporkintheroad]

Dear Diary

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: one-sided Tom Riddle/Harry Potter | one-sided Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter | one-sided Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter | one-sided Myrtle Warren/Harry Potter

Warnings: Canon-typical Violence, Tom being a murderous psycho, strong language

Summary: Everything Tom Riddle knows about Harry Potter came to him second-hand from the morons in love with the boy.

---

Despite what one might think, Tom Riddle did not first hear of Harry Potter from Ginny Weasley’s fruitlessly pathetic ramblings on her crush.

No.

He learned the cursed name, Harry Potter, from Draco Malfoy’s fruitlessly pathetic ramblings on his crush.

But let’s back up a moment. It started like this:

It was three weeks to the start of his second year and Draco was in a mood.

(If any of his dormmates had been consulted, they would argue that Draco was almost always in a Mood, capital “m” intended, and that really you’d be better off saving your breath and counting the times he wasn’t having some sort of a fit.)

Three weeks left of summer hols and Draco was still struggling to fully master his new Nimbus 2001. Which was a necessity if he was going to make Slytherin seeker—and he would, he had to, he had to beat Potter. Potter, who had already been made Gryffindor seeker a whole year ahead. When first years weren’t even supposed to be on the house teams or have their own brooms!

All of which he was dead set on ranting about to his father, if only because Father would sneer and huff about Potter too while Mother would merely hum and say, “Draco dear, if the boy matters so much to you, why don’t you write him?”

Except his father wasn’t in his office when Draco went to check. And he knew his father’s study was supposed to be off limits when he wasn’t home, though the particular reasoning as to why had long been forgotten. But he was just so…so irritated.

And there, sitting on a pile of things father had set aside to take to Borgin & Burke’s in light of the more aggressive dark-artifact raids that had been happening lately, sat a perfectly blank diary. Completely unused.

Rubbish, Draco thought, admiring his father’s cleverness because the scheme was obvious: convince Borgin that the diary was some dark artifact and sell it for a decent sum when in truth it was nothing more than a bit of leatherbound parchment that had once belonged to some…Tom Riddle bloke.

Normally, Draco might’ve been put off in using something that was clearly second-hand, but if he only used it to write about Potter…and if he ripped those pages out afterward and burned them…well, what did it matter? He needed to get the words out somehow and this seemed as good an option as any.

So he took it, the diary that belonged to Tom Riddle. And for the first time in 50 years, magic began to stir within the pages.

“Stupid Potter with his stupid curly hair that’s all dark and soft. And his stupid green eyes, looking like emeralds. How ridiculous. And his stupid little smile, the one that’s all smug and his teeth are stupidly straight. And when he’s riding on his stupid broom doing flips in the air—who stands on a broom to catch a snitch? In his mouth?”

Tom could feel himself losing braincells.

Truly, the only thing stopping Tom from outright murdering the insipid child for using his diary for this drivel was the fact that the magical signature was so clearly a nice dark gray. It would be a shame to kill off a potential ally just because they were young and stupid. With any luck, they’d grow up to be powerful and at least slightly less stupid, and even if this trite crush on the thrice-damned Potter persisted, at least the Potters were a pureblood family who had been known to marry in with the Blacks before.

“That is quite ridiculous,” Tom wrote back, because it was always best to seem in agreement with people you were hoping to manipulate. “My name is Tom Riddle. May I ask how you came upon my diary?”

There was a flicker of surprise, hesitation, considering.

“It was on my father’s desk,” the child wrote eventually. “And I’m Draco Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy family.”

“Ah, a pleasure. I knew Abraxas Malfoy quite well when we were in school.”

“Really? He was my grandfather.”

That was quite a bit more time than Tom had been expecting. At his last true memory, Abraxas had only been 16 himself and it was hard to imagine him older, perhaps graying—not that you’d be able to tell, really, with the Malfoy platinum blond—not only married but with children. With grandchildren, Merlin’s beard. He did the math quickly and estimated it must have been at least 40-50 years since he’d made the diary then.

He wondered where his other self was, if he’d accomplished everything he set out to do. If he’d made more horcruxes, the seven they’d planned on.

“And who’s this boy you’re rambling about then?” Even if the nonsense about the Potter child was useless, it was always good to build rapport, let Draco think Tom was interested in what he had to say, that Tom could be trusted. Then he could ask what he really wanted to know.

“Harry Potter. He’s an arrogant snob who thinks he’s better than everyone just because he was supposed to have defeated the Dark Lord as a baby—”

If Tom had any sense of bodily functions trapped in the diary, he would have just choked. As it was, he felt frozen with dread and fury and confusion all blending together. The Potter boy had done what?

“—if you buy into that. Father says it’s just Dumbledore’s propaganda and that the Dark Lord isn’t really dead, so that means that Potter’s just full of shit I mean he’s not nearly as impressive as he thinks he is. Can you believe he refused to shake my hand? As if he, a half-blood, was better than me.”

Just what the hell had happened while Tom had been trapped away in the diary? Clearly his other self had fallen far if he’d been bested by a baby.

At least it seemed that Abraxas’s son was still loyal if he truly believed Voldemort wasn’t gone. And trusted with guarding a piece of Voldemort’s soul, no less.

Yes, Tom was confident the elder Malfoy would do what was needed to sort this mess out.

---

Tom was most definitely not confident in the elder Malfoy. The man was a moron.

Case in point: he’d given away the diary to miserable little mouse of a first-year named Ginny-not-Ginevra. If he was feeling generous, perhaps he would have allowed that this might be a plan to offer up a life-force for Tom to feed off of, maybe even give him the opportunity to open the Chamber of Secrets again. Tom was not feeling generous, however, and so the elder Malfoy was going to suffer immensely once Tom got out of this damned book.

Because what were the odds of the only two people writing in his diary in the past 50 years both having a crush on the same boy, who also happened to be the person allegedly responsible for killing Tom’s counterpart.

If he had to hear one more word about Harry Potter…

“He’s so nice and sweet and handsome. He said hello to me that morning at breakfast, his smile so warm. And his eyes…they’re so green. Like—”

Let me guess, emeralds, Tom thought to himself, eyes rolling.

“—like a fresh-pickled toad. Oh. That could be a good poem, don’t you think Tom?”

Poetry. Dear God. No.

Was this some sort of cosmic justice for making a horcrux? If so, Tom was almost tempted to wish he could take it back.

“Hm. His eyes are green as a fresh-pickled toad/His hair…hm…his hair is dark as…a blackboard. Yes. I like that. And of course he’s so heroic too, defeating You-Know-Who and ending the war. I wonder if he’s like all the heroes in the stories? You know, romantic and noble.”

“Perhaps if you talked to him, you might find out,” Tom offered, trying to keep the snippiness out of his writing. Regardless of whether it was the elder Malfoy’s intention or not, Tom was going to take advantage of this situation to make his great return. Starting with the terror of opening the Chamber, petrifiying as many mudbloods as possible. Then he’d suck the life out of Ginny-not-Ginevra so that she’d never have to burden another soul with her incessant, inane chatter.

And if he was very, very lucky, he’d get the chance to kill Harry Potter too, and he’d make it hurt.

“Oh no. I could never just talk to Harry. What would I even say? He’s too cool. He’d never even make time for someone like me.”

But in the meantime, perhaps Tom could still have some fun.

“Then you must make him see you. Perhaps once you finish your poem, you could send it to him.”

“That’s a great idea, Tom! You’re the best!”

---

Somehow, Ginny-not-Ginevra had cottoned onto the fact that Tom was controlling her. A pity, too, since she’d been so very easy to bend to his will. Her mind was weak, feeble, and it had taken next to nothing to possess her.

Perhaps he’d dragged it out too long. If he’d ended her sooner, she wouldn’t have had the chance to throw him into the women’s loo. The indignity of it was unparalleled, and for that, Ginny-not-Ginevra was going to die slowly, painfully, and screaming.

Especially since Myrtle Warren—who had been enough of a blight upon humanity in his own time—was still loitering around the bathroom where she’d died. On the plus side, she was intangible and therefore couldn’t write. That small measure of good news was massively outweighed by the fact that as a spirit with a very strong tie to the mortal realm, Myrtle Warren was capable of projecting her thoughts. Right. Into. Tom’s. Diary.

Not that she knew she was doing it, but still.

“It’s so miserably lonely here. If only Harry would come back. He’s so handsome and so nice. The nicest boy I’ve ever met. Maybe he’ll die and want to share the bathroom with me. Oh! Maybe he’ll drown in the tub—”

There was a lot to unpack there and Tom wasn’t going to touch any of it. Instead, he tried to project his own murderous intent as loudly as possible to get her to shut the hell up, but either it wasn’t a two-way radio or Myrtle’s own whining was too loud to let anything else through.

If I could kill her again, I would, he thought uncharitably when she started scream-sobbing loud enough to wake the dead.

---

If it had been anyone else—anyone else—Tom would have been relieved to have been picked up off the floor of the bathroom and laid out to dry on a nice desk somewhere warm. But…

“Hello. My name is Harry Potter.”

He’d fucking had it with Harry fucking Potter.

Yes, the boy was decent enough not to ramble and instead got straight to the point. Blunt, though not rude. Curious, if naïve and too trusting. And when Tom had pulled Harry into his diary, the boy’s magic was not the blinding brightness he’d expected from the light’s savior but dove gray. Balanced and soft and—

And Harry Potter was a disappointingly average, useless boy who Tom would not waste another moment on.

He would lure Ginny-not-Ginevra back to him, use her life force to regain a body of his own, and then…

Then, the world would be his.

---

“Ginny. Ginny, please wake up—”

“She won’t wake,” Tom said, stepping out of the shadows.

There, finally in front of him in the flesh, stood Harry Potter. Perhaps Tom should have expected it—didn’t everyone say Harry was heroic, self-sacrificing, a fearless savior? Still, he hadn’t really thought…Harry, able to find the Chamber, able to speak the parseltongue to open it, traverse the passageways only to arrive here, alone and woefully unprepared, and yet somehow still fierce.

Dark hair curling against pale skin, smudge with dirt and grime and looking all the more battle-ready for it. Spark-bright eyes; they really were an almost alarming shade of green. Like the killing curse itself. And yet the most compelling element—something which had to be seen in person to be understood, the very thing that had been missing from all of the disgustingly lovelorn descriptions of Harry—was the angry, sharp, vicious something hiding underneath that veneer of goodness.

Tom wanted to dig his fingers into it and bring it to the surface, rip away all the unnecessary heroism and pretense of goodness, carve until all the was left were the shimmering gems of potential buried not-so-deep in the boy. Tom could do it, too. Harry would not be easy to bend to his will, not like Ginny-not-Ginevra, not like his schoolfellows, not like the teachers he wrapped around his fingers.

No. Harry Potter would be a challenge, and—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

[rip-us-xoxo]

Avalanche- Draco Malfoy x Reader (REPOST)

Posted NOVEMBER 26, 2020

Reposted APRIL 16, 2023

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Request by @excuse-me-ima-princess- Could you write an imagine with draco x female!reader where it’s like a childhood best friends to lovers type of deal. Also if you could use the song Avalanche by walk the moon as a base for it that would be great! Thank you and congrats on 100 followers!

A/n- Thank you! Also thank you for requesting that song, i never heard it before, but now i’m glad that i have. It is so good! I hope you enjoy reading!

——————————————————————————

Warnings- Umbridge, that’s it. Also not really read through so sorry ‘bout that✌️

Song- 'Avalanche' by Walk The Moon

——————————————————————————

Eighteen thousand-year-old soul

Midwest shooting star

In the days she waits

But she moonlights rock'n'roll

Play the rain dance with her guitar

Sometimes you only get one chance

You and Draco have known each other since you were in diapers. Your mother and his mother were best friends in their years at Hogwarts, so just imagine how excited they were when they found out they were both pregnant at the same time! They knew you two were going to be best friends, and they were right. You two were attached at the hip. 

Everyday when you two were little, you would play out in the garden for hours playing tag. You were one wild girl and he loved that about you, friend-like love of course. 

Soon those days of just running around had to stop when you two had to go to Hogwarts. Now, you had essays to do and very little free-time to run around and play games. 

Now, you were still that carefree girl. You ran around the halls not caring if you got in trouble and didn’t care what others thought about you. Draco on the other hand had to keep his head held high and his behavior on track so that 1. He could impress his father and 2. Show up Potter

As the years at Hogwarts passed by, you and Draco were still attached at the hip and many a times mistaken as a couple, to which both of you would laugh and inform the person that you two were just friends. 

5th year was when things got a little rocky in the friendship though. Umbridge had taken over the school and Draco was completely fine with it, but you, on the other hand were not. 

“Hey Draco!” you greeted him in the hallway. “Woah, Y/l/n, 8 inches, remember?” Draco moved away from you and kept walking. 

“What the heck Draco? I’m your best friend,” you said in disbelief. “Well Umbridge says to stay 8 inches apart, so we will follow her rules and stay 8 inches apart,” he said ‘8 inches apart’ like you were a dumb little child who couldn’t understand what he was saying. 

“You know what? Don’t talk to me,” you fumed and turned around to head to the Slytherin common rooms. Draco just huffed and kept walking. 

The next time Draco saw you and tried to say hi, you flipped him off and walked in the opposite direction. He expected that to be the only time, but 1 time turned into 2 times and then suddenly you two just weren’t talking anymore. 

He didn’t think much of it, being Draco Malfoy he thought he did absolutely nothing wrong, but after a while he thought, “Did I do something wrong?”. He inquired about that thought for a whole month until finally he came to the conclusion that he, in fact, did something wrong. 

“I have to fix this,” he whispered to himself as he watched you eat alone at the Slytherin table. He then saw you stand up and start to head out of the Great Hall. But when you grabbed your bag, he saw something on your hand that didn’t look good. 

Draco followed you out of the dorm and waited until you two were far enough away from people to try and talk to you. You felt like someone was following you so you looked behind you to see a tall, slender shadow. You yelped and almost fell over. 

“Calm down, Y/l/n, it’s just me,” the person chuckled. You stiffened, “What do you want Draco?” you spat his name out like venom. It’s been over a month since you two had talked, and he decided to try and fix it now? 

“Look, I just want to talk because I think I did something wrong,”, “You think?” you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, completely forgetting about the words engraved in your hand from detention with Umbridge. 

“Ah!” you hissed and looked down at your hand. “What?” Draco asked and ran up to you. His focus was brought down to your carved hand, “Who did that?”. When he went to go grab it, you pulled it away. 

“Your favorite teacher, Umbridge, did it, you git. I got detention,” you spat. He stared at your hand with his jaw dropped, he thought that Slytherins were safe from her wrath but apparently not, “Why did you get detention?”. 

“Since we stopped talking, all I’ve been able to think about is the fact that I’m mad at you, so she saw that I wasn’t paying attention and gave me detention,” you put your hand in his face, “‘I must not get distracted’ is what she made me write”. 

He frowned, it really was all his fault. He put his hand on your back and led you back to the Slytherin common room. “Here, let me wrap it up,” he said and went to go grab some bandages. Draco came back a few moments later and began to tend to the wound. 

While you had your attention on the pain of your hand being cleaned up, you didn’t notice Draco glancing up at you every so often. He never realized how pretty you were, your features were glowing in the little light that was in the dungeons. 

You had always had the faintest crush on Draco but you knew it would never blossom into anything more, you were best friends and that was all he would ever see you as. So when you finally caught him staring at you, you were a little surprised. 

“Um, Draco?” you questioned, making him shake his head and come back to reality. “Sorry about that, I just- I,” his eyes flickered down to your lips. Your breath hitched, causing him to come back to reality again, “Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with me today,” he stood up, “Goodnight, Y/n, I hope you can forgive me”. 

You nodded your head and gave him a friendly smile, “Yeah, I forgive you Draco”. He breathed a sigh of release and hugged you before walking up to his dorms. 

When he got into bed, he didn’t think much of his behavior and nor did you. Everything was fine, you both had your bestfriends back and it couldn’t be better.

You got a look in your eyes

I knew you in a past life

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

You two had established very different reputations at Hogwarts. Although you both were in Slytherin, he became known as a jerk and you became known as the fun “party girl”, especially in your 6th year. 

Neither of you had talked about that night or even thought about it. But one night, 6th year, he was lying in bed and the thought of that night wandered into his brain, “Why did hugging her feel different? And why did I want to kiss her?”. It was like he was in a trance when he looked into your eyes, it was familiar because he’s looked into your eyes many times, but that time, it was different. It was like a feeling of ‘it was meant to be’. 

For years Draco never thought of you as anything more than a best friend. But ever since that night, he knew that that “friendly-like” love that he had for you was slowly turning into love-love. And it just did.

Ships pass in the night

I don’t want to wait ‘til the next life

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

Last call and everybody’s watching

A party was being thrown in the Slytherin common room after a win against Gryffindor and Draco was being celebrated for catching the snitch. “Really, it’s not that difficult to beat Potter,” he boasted and took a sip of firewhiskey. 

“Congratulations Draco!” he heard from behind him. He turned around to see you in one of his old quidditch jerseys. He gave it to you in 3rd year after you had a nightmare, after he gave you his jersey though you were out like a light. 

“Thanks, Y/n,” he hugged you and let go even though he didn’t want to. You gave him a smile that made him weak in the knees before Blaise handed you a cup of firewhiskey. 

“Thanks Blaise,” you thanked him before downing the cup. “Woah, Y/l/n, slow down,” Draco chuckled and grabbed the empty cup from you. 

“I want to dance, gotta get a little loose first,” you told him and shimmied your shoulders before walking to the center of the room while swaying your hips with the music. 

You then started to dance like no one was watching and ignored all of the whistles thrown your way by boys who were only watching you for the way your hips were moving. 

But Draco wanted you, he wanted all of you. 

He looked around at all of the boys who looked like they were about to pounce on you and scoffed. He knew that you wouldn’t want to do anything with them, you weren’t that type of person, which Draco admired about you. 

He only had one chance to go out there and claim you though, because another boy was already making his way towards you.

Her voice rings out like a storm

Sometimes the past echoes in the future

Started long before we were born

Sometimes you only get one chance

You started singing along to the song that was playing and it made Draco think back to when you two would hang out before Hogwarts and you would sing your heart out to whatever song came over the radio. 

He remembered back to when he would watch you and his heart would thump at the sight of you smiling. Draco’s eyes widened when he realized that he was in love with you this whole time, he was just too dumb to notice.

Universe won’t wait for you

It’s do or die, whatcha gon-gon-gonna do?

“Woah, dude, you alright?” Blaise asked Draco. “I-I don’t know, but, I have to do something. Something that I should’ve done a long time ago,” Draco said and gave his cup to Blaise. 

“It’s now or never,” he whispered to himself before walking over to you, everyone watched him as he did. 

You got a look in your eyes

I knew you in a past life

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

You got a look in your eyes

I knew you in a past life

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

You noticed him coming your way but he had a look in his eyes like he was on a mission. Once he reached you, he stared straight into your eyes. You started up at him, not knowing the thoughts in his mind. 

“She is gorgeous, how did I not notice before?” he thought. The same eyes he’s stared into his whole life, but once again, it was different. 

He was in love.

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

Your hair was splayed out across your shoulders, your face had no makeup on it, showing all of your natural features. 

Draco was in awe.

Ships pass in the night

I don’t want to wait ‘til the next life

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

One glance and the avalanche drops

One look and my heartbeat stops

“Draco?” you asked worriedly. Everyone was watching you two, waiting for something to happen. 

“I can’t miss my chance again, I can’t wait any longer,” and before you could comprehend what he was saying, his lips were on yours. You gasped and leaned into the kiss. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. After a few seconds, you both pulled away and Draco pulled you into his chest. 

Everyone around you cheered, but all you could hear was Draco’s heartbeat. 

“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered into your ear. You looked up at him and looked in his eyes, “I love you too”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

xoxo

[annachu-cannot-write]

A Guiding Light

Rating: General Audiences

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

Relationship: Ominis Gaunt/Player Character

Additional Tags: POV Ominis Gaunt, Slytherin Player Character, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Jealousy, Tragic Backstory, Eventual Fluff, Ominis Gaunt Needs a Hug

Story Summary: Ominis Gaunt has been blind for his whole life, relying solely on his wand to show him the way. But when his wand one day goes missing, he finds guidance in an unlikely place, and soon a whole new world opens up to him.

Chapter 4 - however long it takes (to make you realise)

Word Count: 3342 [published on archive 14/03 2024]

Notes: chapter 4 is finally here, so enjoy!

(i know this one took a bit longer to post, but i'm still playing the game, so from here on it might take longer between each upload)

alsooo down below is a picture (of bad quality, i know, so don't at me) of my MC aka Kieran Everbleed, cuz i thought you might want to know what he looks like (seeing as i can't really have Ominis describe his looks...)

It was Saturday morning and Ominis had just been rudely woken up by the shrill noise of an alarm clock going off. Blasted little bugger, he thought as he stirred in his four-poster. Why would anyone set an alarm on a Saturday? It was totally barbaric. 

“Sorry.” someone mumbled to his left - it was Albert Hickling. Of course it was Albert Hickling. For over four years he had tinkered with his own inventions, putting spells on them to make them do all sorts of unimaginable things. Never before, though, had he done anything with an alarm clock. 

“It wasn’t meant to do that, I thought I had bewitched it to transform into a duck every morning so I could have it in my bath.”

“What?” Either Ominis was still too groggy from sleep, or it was the silliest thing he had ever heard. 

“It wouldn’t be a real duck, of course!”

“Never mind that, could you just make it stop?” he said, because the alarm clock was, in fact, still ringing. 

“Oh! Sorry.” Hickling mumbled again, fumbling with the noisy gadget for a good couple of seconds before it finally became quiet. 

Ominis rolled his eyes. Idiot, he thought as he dragged the covers over himself again. 

It wasn’t until he heard Hickling leave the dormitory a moment later, that it occurred to him that none of the other boys had woken up. Sebastian, he knew for a fact, was a heavy sleeper, and could sleep through most things - though something as loud and obnoxious as that alarm clock would surely have woken anyone up. As for Everbleed, he hadn’t learnt what type of sleeper he was - but even if he was a heavy sleeper as well, there was no reason why he shouldn’t have woken up. 

Ominis regretted that he hadn’t asked Hickling what time it was when the clock had rung - if he had, he would have known now, if it was a time in the morning when the boys would normally be in bed. 

Lifting himself up to his elbows, he called out for Sebastian but got nothing in response. It was awfully quiet, now that he thought about it. On most mornings, he could hear faint snoring coming from Sebastian, but right now, the room was completely silent. 

“Sebastian? Are you there?... Everbleed?” Still no response. Ominis frowned. Normally, he and Sebastian would wake up at roughly the same time, a consequence from sleeping in the same room since they were 11, he was sure of, then Everbleed would slowly start to wake up, and eventually the three of them would go to breakfast together. But now there seemed to be only him here. 

A voice in the back of his head told him that the two of them had gone on without him - but he tried not to listen. After Sebastian had talked to him on the bridge last week, Ominis had been under the impression that things had gone back to normal between them - but now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He let his arms fall to his side and his head was once again reunited with the pillow. He sighed, but found that when he did, his chest ached a bit, so he brought his hand up and clutched the fabric of his pyjamas, right over his heart. As he did so, he thought about how pathetic he was, and that it made perfect sense that Sebastian would want to abandon him. 

He closed his eyes shut, hard, and wished that he could just fall back to sleep, but he knew there was no way he could do that now. Not with all these thoughts filling up his entire mind. Things will be all right, he told himself, I will be all right. 

...

Sleep had, unbeknownst to Ominis, swept him away an hour later, easing his mind as well as his body. When he came to, it was because he had, for a second time that morning, been woken up. 

“Are you still sleeping? You’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t get up soon.”

Ominis could only respond with a sluggish ‘Mm’ for he was too tired to be able to make a, perhaps more coherent, response. 

After a moment, he heard his stomach rumble as hunger overwhelmed him, and he woke up more and more. When he eventually sat up in his bed, stretching his arms over his head, the thoughts that had occupied his mind earlier came back and hit him straight in his gut. Breakfast didn’t seem so inviting all of a sudden. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sebastian is, would you?” he asked before he even realised it. 

“No, but I heard him and Kieran early this morning, talking about Feldcroft. They seemed to be in a hurry.” 

The answer threw another punch to his gut and he felt sick. He was sure he would have thrown up, if it wasn’t for the fact that Hickling was in the room. 

“I thought it was strange that he left without you.”

‘Left without you’ The words echoed in his mind, taunting him, cutting him. ‘Left without you’ He could feel the bad taste in his mouth as the words only grew louder. ‘Left without you’ He ran out of the dormitory, running like a wild beast that had been let loose. … Then he fell and hit the floor, and everything came all at once - the vomit, the tears, the blood. 

...

For a third time that morning, Ominis was woken up. This time, however, it wasn’t whilst lying in bed - but on the cold stone floor of the common room, and not when he had been asleep, but when he had been unconscious. 

Everything was a big blur to him. His head throbbed violently and he felt dizzy. He could hear rushed murmurs coming from all directions, but he couldn’t make out any of the words over the ringing in his ears. Someone shook him by the shoulder, calling his name, but Ominis just lay there, unable to produce any sort of response. Then he could feel a pair of arms picking him up, and a warm body against his own. In the state he was in, he couldn’t understand anything that was going on. 

...

He felt something soft touch his back and he realised that he must have been laid down. No more than a second later someone’s hand was on his forehead, then at both sides of his head, prodding at him, wiping at his face. He could hear a woman muttering to his side, but her words weren’t any clearer than the voices earlier had been - these, too, were rushed. Then, before he could even register it, his back had been lifted up and something was placed in his hand to hold. Ominis blinked, still feeling very out of it. He heard more muttering, and the next thing he knew, someone grabbed the object from his hand, brought it up to his lips, and then a nasty liquid hit his tongue. He wanted to spit it out immediately, but found that whoever was feeding him this liquid was still pouring it into his mouth, making it impossible to do so. 

Whatever it was that he had been forced to drink, he felt an instant effect from it as soon as he swallowed it. The throbbing in his head died down to a level where it was almost completely gone, and his ears no longer rang. The woman spoke to him again, and this time Ominis could hear every word. 

“Mr. Gaunt? This is nurse Blainey - you are in the hospital wing. It seems you fell and took a blow to your head.” 

As he registered her words, Ominis brought his hand up to his head, and frowned  - he couldn’t remember falling and hitting his head. 

“It’s best if you stay here for a couple of hours, so I can keep an eye on you. Now, be still, so I can put this on you.” 

He didn’t know what ‘this’ referred to, but felt the matron’s hands on his head again, apparently putting on some sort of bandage. 

“Do you remember how this happened at all?”

“No.” he replied, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. 

“Your prefect, Mr. Hickling, arrived with you in a hurry, just moments ago. He told me he saw you running out of the dormitory looking sick, and that when he heard a commotion in the common room he went to see what was going on. That’s apparently when you had hurt yourself.” 

The matron finished wrapping him up and said “You don’t have to remember now, it will all come back to you after you’ve had some rest, so don’t strain yourself. Now, if you would be so kind, Mr. Hickling…”

Ominis hadn’t realised Hickling was still in the hospital wing with them. 

“Of course, nurse Blainey. Ominis, I shall leave you now. Hopefully you’ll feel better soon.” 

Ominis made his second incoherent response to Hickling that morning, but it was the best he could do - he was still trying to understand why the other boy would have shown him such kindness.

“Oh, I almost forgot, nurse Blainey, Ominis hasn’t eaten his breakfast yet…”

“Why didn’t you say so? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Here I was, giving him medicine on an empty stomach…. Oh well, best call for the house-elves, so they can bring some food up then.” 

...

The rest of the morning and afternoon went by faster than Ominis thought it would, considering he was meant to spend it in a hospital bed. He had managed to rest for the most part, albeit shorter periods at a time, and the rest of the time he had spent listening to nurse Blainey moving across the room, tending to other students. At some point Hickling had come back with his clothes and schoolrobe so he could change out of his pyjamas. 

Later, when the matron finally came to remove his bandage, she announced that he was free to go, and Ominis felt relieved. 

“Be careful not to make any sudden head movements though, and should you feel anything at all, come back and see me again.” 

“Of course, nurse Blainey-” he said, and started stepping away from the bed, but realised soon that he was without his wand. “-My wand…” 

“Oh, it’s right here, dear-” she handed it over to him, placing it in his hand. “-Mr. Hickling brought it with him when he dropped off your clothes.” 

“Ah… thank you.” he managed a smile, and then proceeded to walk away from the bed, and out of the hospital wing. 

...

As soon as Ominis reached the Grand Staircase, he was overwhelmed with loud voices. All around him students were chatting away with their friends, talking about what they had been up to during the day, and what they planned to do tomorrow. Some students, further away from him, mentioned being in Hogsmeade, eating and drinking at the Three Broomsticks. A group of girls talked about how they went down to Lower Hogsfield and what a lovely little place it was. 

It all made Ominis feel like he had been stuck in a sort of hazy dream the entire day - coming in and out of consciousness, and not really knowing what had been going on for the most part. He had missed out on a whole day he could have spent doing the things the students around him had done. But it was just one day, he told himself, no matter. It’s not like he normally spends his free days visiting Hogsmeade or the neighbouring hamlets, anyway. Nonetheless, a sense of gloominess washed over him as he descended the stairs towards the Reception Hall. 

A waft of delicious food reached Ominis’ nostrils as the doors to the Great Hall opened and closed by students coming in and out, and the gloomy feeling turned to hunger. It felt to him like no time at all had passed since the house-elves had brought him breakfast. Here I go, eating again, he thought to himself. All he had done this day, so far, had been eating and sleeping. 

...

Dinner had been exquisite. All the things Ominis loved tasted particularly good this evening - the roast chicken was juicier, the sausages fattier, and the roast potatoes crispier than ever. He couldn’t think of a time when he had been this full - not even on his very first day as a first-year. 

I wonder if I still have room for some dessert? But it probably won’t arrive any time soon, he thought as he rubbed his belly. Though I might as well stay here for a while, I’m too tired to go anywhere at the moment. He let out a content sigh, but was interrupted halfway. 

“You look like you swallowed a dugbog - were you that hungry?” It was Sebastian.

 Ominis was just about to give a snarky retort when suddenly there was a strange feeling in his head. It didn’t hurt, exactly, more like it made him a wee bit dizzy. He shut his eyes, but when he did, memories of the early morning came back to him - very fast, and very vividly, and he felt increasingly dizzier. He didn’t even notice nearly falling off of the bench, until a pair of hands steadied him. 

“Don’t touch me.” he spat out instantaneously. 

He was met with something he could only assume was a stunned silence. Then, whilst still a little shaky, he stood up and began to walk away, bumping into Sebastian on purpose. It didn’t take long, however, until Sebastian’s hand was on his arm, trying to stop him. 

“Ominis? Wha-”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Did something happen?” 

Ominis ignored the question at first, just puffing out air, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to convey the message that he was upset. Then he grabbed Sebastian's arm forcefully and dragged him to the side of the hall, where they could have some privacy. There, he answered the question with a question of his own.

“What do you think?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Well, you’re obviously upset, I can see that.”

“How observant of you, anything else?”

“You’re being really snappy towards me.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

Sebastian sighed, and after a couple of seconds said  “Why are you being like this, Ominis? If I did something to offend you, just say so.” 

“Offend me?” he huffed loudly. “I think you would know for yourself if you had done something to offend me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like!” 

“Okay, so I have offended you? When exactly?”

“You haven’t offended me Sebastian, you’ve hurt me!” he yelled out, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Are you really that oblivious?”

“If you’re talking about the Undercroft again, I’ve already apologised for that-”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“Then, what is it about?!”

“Everbleed!” he practically screamed out, tears now streaming down his cheeks. 

“What does he have to do with this?”

“Everything! He’s got everything to do with this, can’t you see? You spend so much time with him, you barely have any left to spend with me anymore! And as if the Undercroft thing wasn’t bad enough, you even bring him to Feldcroft to meet Anne? You didn’t stop to think that perhaps I wanted to go meet her again? That I, who happen to actually be her friend, would be happy to hear her voice again? No? Did it never occur to you?!” 

He fell backwards against the wall, shaking with uncontrollable sobs, feeling utterly miserable. 

“Am I not your friend, Sebastian? Do I mean that little to you?” 

Several seconds passed in a suffocating silence, and he thought that this had to be it - the moment he would lose his most dearest friend. He knew that if Sebastian didn’t want him anymore, things would go back to how they were before they were friends, before he got to Hogwarts. He would be on his own again, the only company the one found in solitude. But he didn’t want that, he didn’t want to go back to being all alone, with no one to talk to, or to laugh with, or to create memories together with. But that had already started to happen. It started on the very first day of their fifth year. A tear in a bond that he thought was so strong that nothing could break it, but has just kept on growing. 

“Ominis…” Sebastian’s voice was not more than a breath of air, and Ominis could barely hear it over his own thoughts. “I am sorry. I am truly sorry… I didn’t know you felt like this. You know you mean a lot to me-”

“No, Sebastian, I don’t.” he cut him off quietly, and Sebastian sighed. 

“You and Anne are the most important people in my life; I wouldn’t know what to do without either of you.”

“Then why didn’t you let me come meet her?”

Sebastian sighed once again, and took a step closer. 

“What you have to understand, Ominis, is that there are bigger things going on. War is almost upon us and goblins are terrorising people everywhere. There’s not a single hamlet that is safe anymore, especially Feldcroft. It’s just a matter of time before they curse someone from the village again, and I just don’t want that to be you.”

Ominis closed his eyes. He just didn’t want to hear it. 

“You don’t think I can handle my own.” 

“That’s not what I said, Ominis.”

“But I know that’s what you meant. You didn’t want me there with you to slow you down, so you brought Everbleed with you instead - perfect little Everbleed who can defeat a whole troll on his own.-” He pushed himself off of the wall, and stepped closer to Sebastian, stopping right in front of his face. “-Isn’t that right?” 

A few silent seconds passed. 

“You’re being ridiculous.” Sebastian said and moved away. Ominis clenched his jaw. 

“I’ll leave you alone then, if that’s what you think. I have no interest in being here anyway.” 

He didn’t get very far though, before Sebastian said “Before you go, I want to speak to you about something else, if you care to listen.” 

Ominis made no sign of moving, and Sebastian continued “You remember me mentioning Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium, right?-” 

“-I’ve already told you how I feel about that.”

“Yes, well, I hoped you could give it some more thought. I believe, if we were to enter the Scriptorium, we could find something that could provide us with useful information about a cure for Anne.” 

Ominis clenched his jaw harder. 

“That Scriptorium means only bad things, and I want nothing to do with the dark magic that lies within it-” 

“-Even if it means finding a cure?” 

“I will not change my mind on this matter! Anything to do with the Dark Arts should be avoided. It’s too risky.”

“Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is worth the risk.”

“I can’t agree, and I’ll not say a word more. I’m sorry.” 

With those final words, Ominis walked away from Sebastian - his head pounding and his heart aching. He couldn’t even be bothered to care when he realised he had collided with Everbleed, he just wanted to get away from the Great Hall as fast as possible. 

...

It was cold in the dormitory, where he lay in his four-poster, thinking hard on everything that had transpired that day - first hitting his head, then spending the day in the hospital wing, and lastly, everything that had gone down between him and Sebastian in the Great Hall. Perhaps he hadn’t lost his most dearest friend that day, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would take before their bond would eventually break. 

He turned onto his side and dragged the duvet over his head, trying not to think, because he just wanted to go to sleep, forget about everything and for this day to finally end. 

[knight-already]

Here’s a thought:

Young bby boy Severus  being age eight or nine  hiding in a bush watching the Evan sisters play, particularly interested lily who is using magic.... described to look at lily 'hungrily' or with 'undisguised greed' on his face.

How long had he watched the other children in his town play without joining in... or being allowed to join in?

I know a lot of ppl like to bag on one scene in the snape household and say Tobias is abusive tool -- which fair. But -- if we look into this scene a bit closer.

Severus was only interested in Lily because she had magic. 

He lived in spinster end his whole life.

He claimed his father hated magic, so I doubt Severus had many chances to go to the wizarding world no magic in their house hold since  his mother most likely never told his father that she was magic and I'm sure it was a nasty surprise when Severus started doing accidental magic and she couldn't cover for him anymore.

Most likely what that fight we saw in Severus’ memories was about -- Eileen lied to him and had a child with him.

I mean -- That has something weird about it right? 

From lily we learn calling someone a ‘witch’ is a bad thing  so no doubt Tobias was upset that his son was magic from then his trust and their marriage probably went down the drain.

With the cat out of the bag -- Eileen starts telling severus stories of his magical heritage.

I see this two ways:

1.Severus was warned in fear of being outed in a muggle town for having magic was warned to not play with children who didn't have magic then he finds lily. [But I don think this was the case the kids don't act like its some big frightening secret.]

2. She had him believe that he was special among the muggles and fills his head with muggle prejudice that I'm sure found its was to Tobias, he tells her to cool it. But she had already filled Severs head with an [us] and [them] mentality. Maybe he was told muggles are below him, that he should not play with them --

Maybe Tobias and her would argue about this, the neighbors where side eyeing them as is and now Severus couldn’t even play with the others. Ad in Severus’s agility to say the most rude wrong thing [that he didn't mean it just came across that way -- as he parroted back what his mum told him]

 but there was little Tobias could do when he worked all day. 

When Severus heard these talks he would reason that his father as wrong, that he didn't see that he was better than others like his mother said. that there was an easy solution for all this and that was for him to just find a magical child he could play with

His mother said muggleborns did exist so he watched for a long time until he found one:

enter {LILY} 

 But he had no social skills apart from talking to his mother and father, he planned and planned how to talk to her and he just couldn't wait to finally have a friend that met the Criteria so he  'hungrily' with 'undisguised greed' on his face observed her. 

Severus was probably so sad when she wasn't impressed by him, I’m sure he  was isolated by the other children in the town because of his behavior towards them refusing to play. I could imagine, that Severus was so happy they were finally headed off to Hogwarts he thought that meant he would meet people who were finally worthy of him -- a place for only magical children -- and endless option of friends.

Only for him to be rejected.

Because the whole glue for his and lily’s friendship was his knowledge on Magic he didn't really have anything to work with outside of that especially since all the children where learning with him. Maybe he worked so hard in school was so he had something to:

 1. occupy his time -- he genuinely liked to study 

2. he was used by his peers to do their assignments and cheat off of.

 Which he was fine with since he didn't know how else relate to his peers.

Of course there is also the fact that he was getting bullied by James and co. and was a slytherin and that added to his isolation.

Poor thing had a losing hand no matter what he did,

[gauntsgirl]

𝟎𝟒 | 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭

Most children are 11 when they receive the great news that they had been accepted into Hogwarts to start their first year.

You were 15.

Circumstances, situations, whatever you wanted to call it, those were the facts.

You were very tired the first week; all you could remember was being sorted into your house and many friendly faces. With the whole troll thing in the coming week, you had made quite a name for yourself already. Natty and Poppy were your closest friends here. You were also kind of close with Sebastian, but you had no idea where you two stood as you never saw him around campus. Rumour was it that he had his mind focused on some idea and it wasn't the safe kind.

It was a mundane moment when you first saw him, just during the small section of wandering time you had before getting to class. You had potions next. That was when you properly met.

"Hey l/n! Where are you off to?" called a voice, you recognised your name and turned before you could piece together who was calling it.

A brown tuft of hair and valley of freckles set into your line of vision. "Oh, hey Sallow, just off to potions, how about you?"

"Sweet, I have a free period next. My friend Ominis has potions next too, I believe. Do you know him?" he asks, falling into step with you.

You were confused at the sudden banter, but you eased into it, "Uhm, that blonde Slytherin boy? Yeah I've seen him, never spoken to him though," you remarked, almost dropping that you thought he was cute but you wouldn't even utter that to Poppy so there was no reason for you to tell Sallow all of a sudden.

"Yup, that blonde Slytherin boy alright, you will keep him company, won't you? Between the two of us I'm starting to worry he won't make many other close friends."

You were baffled at the sudden request. Where was all of this coming from?

"Uh, what do you mean? And why me?"

"Well he obviously has his friends he talks to, but I worry he's too...reliant on me. You seem fine enough so I'm hoping you would do this for me? I'll owe you one and that means quite a bit. It's for the best for him anyway," Sebastian relays.

"I think I'll decide what's the best for me," says a voice from behind you two.

Sebastian bristles and jumps around, you turn, still confused at the developing events. You were faced with a boy whose looks could possibly kill.

Ominis Gaunt, 5th year Slytherin and the cutest boy in the grade was positively seething and turning his head glancing towards the two of you.

"Ominis? Oh boy," Sebastian sighs in defeat.

"I don't need you making pity friends for me. I can do as I want or not do anything at all." He says as he shoots you a disgusted look.

What did I do? You think to yourself.

"Now now Ominis, it's not what you think it is," Sebastian says.

"I'm blind Sebastian, not deaf. I can clearly hear and comprehend. And you," he faces directly toards you, "I don't need any help 'making friends' or anything of the sort. I suggest you stay away and mind your business."

What did I even do??? You think to yourself more incredulously, but not riled up enough to get involved.

The bell rings and loitering 3rd years hurry to their class.

"Now if you'd excuse me, I have to get to class," Ominis trudges past you two.

"I-I'm very sorry y/n, I'll talk to you later and clear everything up. He's just...in a mood right now. I promise he's a better person than that," Sebastian says and you nod and give him a reassuring smile, too unbothered to deal with this.

What is this school? You think. It was quite refreshing, you admit, being in this school tired and worn out by smiling faces all week to just be ambushed by...whatever that was.

You walk into your potions class, just a couple minutes late.

"Ah, so nice of you to finally join us l/n! So glad you could make it. Please take a seat and aim to be on time next lesson," says the teacher as they wave you in; you apologise and take the closest seat to you. It wasn't until you hear a sassy sigh next to you that you realise who you had sat next to.

He'd 'glance' towards you a couple of times, with a not very inviting look on his face, somewhere between a snarl and a thin-lipped, straight-line face.

In between the still moment when the professor went out to grab a missing ingredient and chatter filled the room, Ominis turned his head slightly towards you again, still wearing that unsettling mask.

"Can you stop looking at me like that? It's making me feel weird," you say as you shuffle your books further away from him.

"Might I remind you that I am blind?" he retorts, enunciating the last word.

"Yeah, but you still have a face and it still makes me feel weird. Why are you so mad at me? I didn't even do anything."

"Again. I told you, you didn't have to sit with me just because Sebastian told you to. I have friends and I have no trouble making them, I know he just wants to get rid of me so he can do his own... activities."

"Okay, I have no clue what drama you guys have going on but I just sat in the first seat closest to me. I didn't even know you were there. I never said anything to Sebastian and why can't I be friends with you just because? If you're still upset I can just move but you needn't be so rude to me," you say with a finality, making him know you're serious.

A silence drawls between you.

"I...I'm sorry," he eventually says and that surprises you. You don't know why you expected him just to blow you off from the very little you knew of him, but you did, "It's just. Sebastian's been getting into some trouble lately and I am just sick of his antics. I took it out on you and...I was kind of embarrassed of what he said to you. I might have let it slip how I admired you for what you did earlier this term, even though I thought it was a bit much, and he caught on and tried to distract me with you. So, I apologise for that." He shuffles in his seat a little, clearly a bit more on guard than he was before.

"You're forgiven," you smiled, happy to meet at an armistice, "Shall we start over?"

He smiles, genuinely happy you have seem to have come to a truce, "We shall. I'm Ominis Gaunt, it's nice to meet you."

"I'm y/n, l/n, pleasure to make your acquaintance as well!" you smile back.

You fill the silence with friendly questions until the potions master walks back in with the missing monkshood.

"Alright class, please turn to page 394 and we shall begin."

You and Ominis worked as partners to make the potion. Ominis was more on the theory aspect whilst you were learning and mixing it with the practical aspect. The professor was quite impressed when he came around to the end of the lesson to see your progress.

"A very promising potion. Excellent work Gaunt and l/n."

You'd given each other a very wonky high five.

By the end of that lesson, you had learnt Ominis was a dry, sarcastic, but very fun person to hang out with. You guys walk out of the lesson together, engaged in whatever conversation you'd conjured.

"It was really great meeting you y/n, I'll see you in Herbology?" Ominis said as he turned to go left.

"Yup! See you then," you waved back. Not like he could see it, but surely his wand would be able to pick it up? You were right as he waved back and walked on.

Sebastian was certainly kerfuffled hours later when you and Ominis exchanged pleasantries during Herbology.

"Now what have I missed?" He asks Ominis.

"The touch of a woman."

"Ominis no-"

And then you'd be ranting to Poppy and Natty about what had happened.

"No, you don't get it. He's so tall and handsome as hell. He's so bad...but... he does it so well??? No, I don't like him but even I can admit something as obvious as that!"

They just gave each other that knowing side-eye. "Yup, somethings definitely blooming there."

You hear a blast reverberating from the other side of the greenhouse. A bright pink flower has found itself a new home, nestled in Ominis's hair.

Sebastian's voice follows, "Do you feel Bonita?"

"I FEEL VIOLATED-"

"Well too bad because you look Bonita!" you call out, Sebastian flashes you a smile while Ominis tries to locate where you're coming from to shoot you a glare and Professor Garlick rushes over, telling him Sebastian off as the class erupts into giggles.

"That's your mans over there y/n," Natty laughs.

"I support," Poppy smiles as she pats you on the back.

And whilst the flower exponentially grew and bloomed on top of Ominis,

 something else was blooming between you two.

A/N: The amount of references I made in this 😭

 Also! I think I've got a better understanding of the characters now! 🥳

🌙 thank you for reading!

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