#while also acting stupid and wait .. it’s that how merlin feels all the time protecting HIS dumb ass jesus

[daydreaming-nerd]

Draco Malfoy x Reader Smut

Sorry I’ve been gone! I’m super motivated right now so I’m gonna try getting a bunch of these done because I’m kinda in the mood if you get my drift ;)

Requests from anon: 

“ok, i have a kinky ass request, could you do smut with draco, where he spits in the readers mouth-”

“mean draco who loves degrading you (consensually of course) and face fucking and maybeeeeeee hes into knife play“

“PLEASE PLEASE ANGRY SEGGS W/ DRACO. ITS ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT“

Summary: After spending too much time with Potter, Draco finally snaps.

Warnings: Angry sex, jealous draco, mouth spitting, dirty talk.

Harry and I had been good friends since we sat together on the train our first year of Hogwarts. While I wasn’t part of the trio I was still a good friend of Harry’s which really rubbed Draco the wrong way. 

Lately I had been spending a lot of time with Harry because he was needing some advice about Ginny from someone who wasn’t so close to her. Mostly he needed to get out, so most of the time we would walk around the black lake in order for him to clear his mind. 

Today was just like every other. It was a lovely spring day and Harry was unsure of how to get Ginny’s attention. 

“Why don’t you just buy her flowers!” I said after already suggesting poetry, chocolate and just plainly asking her out. 

“I don’t want to be so direct!” He exclaimed. “If she doesn’t wanna go out with me I gotta play it cool or I’ll never live it down!”

“Sometimes you have to put your heart on the line!” I said.

“What about you and that git Malfoy huh? How did you end up with a guy like him?”

Harry! I know you and Malfoy aren’t the best of friends but he’s sweet to me and for your information he won me over using poetry, chocolate, flowers and asking me out!” I laughed. 

Before Harry could come back with a sly remark thunder rumbled and almost as if we were in a muggle cartoon it started to rain cats and dogs. 

“Bloody hell!” I said.

“Let’s get back home,” Harry laughed. 

We started off right away towards the courtyard which ended up being a lot farther away than we remembered. The rain started to soak through my white school dress shirt causing me to shiver.

“Of course!” I sighed crossing my arms over my chest trying to conceal my black bra that was showing through and keep myself warm. 

“Here take this,” Harry said holding out his quidditch zip up. I looked at the back ‘POTTER’ was written in big yellow letters. I knew I didn’t dare wear it in front of Draco but I also wouldn’t dare walk into school with my bra showing through my shirt. So I took his sweater and  slid it on. 

When we got to the castle not a student was in the courtyard. Though I saw a dark figure standing in the doorway. When I got there I knew all too well it was my over protective boyfriend. 

“Thank merlin I thought I was going to have to go out there and find you,” He said pulling me into the entrance and out of the rain. 

“I’m okay just wet,” I giggled.

“What the bloody hell are you wearing?” he said.

“Harry let me borrow it,” I rolled my eyes at his jealousy. 

“Take the bloody thing off!” He said ripping it off my shoulders and throwing it at Harry.

“Would you rather her freeze?” Harry said getting pissed.

“Why don’t you stop trying to mark what isn’t yours Potter?” Draco said getting in Harry’s face. I had seen him and Harry quarrel many times these last few years but I had never seen Draco like this before. 

“Draco that’s enough,” I said putting my hand on his shoulder scared of what might happen next if I didn’t step in. 

“Shove off Malfoy,” Harry said stepping towards Draco. 

“You dare to-” Draco started.

“Draco that’s enough lets go!” I said pulling his arm. It was finally enough to pull him out of his trance. We started down the corridor but not without Draco throwing his arm around my shoulders and shooting Harry a death glare. 

When we returned to Draco’s dorm he slammed the door so hard he nearly broke it. 

“What is your problem?” I yelled tired of his childish behavior. 

He stopped his pacing and quickly backed me into a wall/

“All you’ve done all week is go on walks with Potter and today you come back wearing his sweatshirt?” He spat. I knew where this was going and the excitement rose between my legs. 

“You’re such a jealous fuck,” I shook my head. 

“You’re mine,” he said placing his hand on my throat. “Get on your knees you slut.” he said pushing me down. 

I kept eye contact as I unbuckled his trousers and peeled his boxers off his body.

“Suck,” he commanded.

I gripped his hard cock in my hand and began to kitten lick his tip driving him crazy. 

“Stop teasing y/n” he said staring me down.

I didn’t give in though. Instead I acted as if I could only take his head, which we both knew wasn’t true. This of course pissed him off even more. He grabbed the back of my head and forced his cock down my throat letting out a sinful moan.

“That’s a good girl,” He said fucking my face. “Be the good little cock slut we know you are.” 

I whimpered as his words went straight to my heat. 

“You like it when I fuck your face like this huh?” He said causing me to nod my head as best I could. “Yeah you do you little whore, just love to be used.” 

It wasn’t long until he was close to cumming.

“Don’t swallow yet, keep it in your mouth.” he said just before spilling his seed into my mouth. I could feel his cum sitting in my mouth as I waiting for further instructions.

“Open,” He said squeezing my cheeks together so I had no choice but to obey. He checked to make sure that his cum was still sitting in my mouth before spitting in my mouth. “Swallow,”

I did as I was told and swallowed opening my mouth to show him.

“Good girl,” He said grabbing my chin, pulling me up and throwing me towards the bed.

He started to undress me at a pace I had never seen before. He waisted no time pushing himself in starting at a brutal pace. 

“Ah Draco!” I screamed. 

“You like that?” He said fucking me even harder.

“y-yes!” I stuttered. 

“Can Potter fuck you this good?” He said burying his head in my neck leaving hickeys wherever he could.

“No Draco! Only you!” I cried out.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He said biting down on my shoulder leaving another mark.

“Yours!” I screamed feeling the knot in my stomach form.

“Louder!” He yelled sitting so he could see my face when I come. 

“It’s your pussy Draco!” I screamed feeling myself get near the edge. 

“That’s my girl,” He said reaching down to rub my clit sending me over the edge. He followed suit throwing his head back so I could get a view of his Adams apple before he collapsed next to me.

It took me a minute to catch my breath before I could speak again.

“You know I love you and only you right?” I said still breathless.

“Of course love, I just can’t help but get a little jealous when I see a beautiful dame like you being so close with the chosen one,” he rolled his eyes.

“He can’t be the chosen one when I choose you everyday,” I smiled. 

“You know what I mean,” He laughed before rolling over and walking over to his closet.

“what are you doing?” I asked.

He pulled out an emerald green sweater with ‘MALFOY’ printed on the back in gray letters. 

“You’ll wear this tomorrow,” He said handing it to me. 

“thank god, green is more my color.” I said pulling it close to my chest admiring how it smelled like him.

“Damn right it is. I can’t wait to fuck you in that tomorrow night.” he said getting back in bed pulling me into him so I was laying in his chest.

“That’s funny I can’t wait either,”

A/N: I forgot knife play and now I feel stupid so I guess I’ll be including that in a future fic. I hope you guys like this. Feedback always helps make my writing better and remember requests are open for Draco Malfoy right now so get them in!

[mariamermaid]

Patronus-Protector

Sirius x Reader

Summary: Much to your dislike, your friends have been hiding something from you. Now it is your turn to find out what has been slumbering beneath the surface of the marauder group…

Words: 3.1k

A/N: requested by @divergirl9-blog Sorry it took so long!

Warnings: swearing, blood, little bit angsty

Patronus{m}, Latin- Protector

“Have they been avoiding you?”

Lilly frowned as you sat down across from her in the great hall. It was a custom habit of the two of you to do the potions homework on Tuesdays together. But your mind was everywhere but on the potions.

“What do you mean?”

“Don´t act stupid, Evans. Did James tell you anything?” You scrunched your nose and leaned a little over the table, so the red-head couldn´t avoid your glance. She held in for a second; James hadn´t particularly mentioned anything. On the other hand, the past times she had seen her somewhat secret boyfriend, there wasn´t much talking involved.

“Not really”, Lilly sighed and tried to get back on the homework. But you were too stubborn and took away her pen. You wouldn´t let this slip another time. “Not really? Is that all you got Lilly?”

“For Merlin´s sake Y/n, I don’t really know! He mentioned something about going to the Shrieking Shack.”

It was your turn to furrow your brows in confusion. “What do they want there?” You asked muttering more to yourself. Lilly rolled her green eyes, until they landed on a certain dark-haired boy. You quickly followed her glance, finding Sirius standing across the hall. It seemed like he had either watched, maybe even eavesdropped, but before you could further question the whole situation, he left the hall with hasty steps.

“You´re done, Black”, you cursed as you hurried after him and to hell with the homework, which you left behind.

Lilly watched as you left, her head back in her hand. “Young love.”

It was no secret to her that you felt a little more than just friendship for the heartbreaker boy. It was also no secret, that Sirius Black was only heartless until it came to you.

There was no thing he wouldn´t do for you, much against his own denial. However, Sirius was best at one thing; protecting you. Mostly, from himself.

Oh yes, he wouldn´t trade your long friendship for anything or anyone, but his craving to feel your soft lips on his, was getting stronger by the day. The fear of breaking in took away his sleep. But as the time the night came, he realized the empty spot in the bed next to him. However, he decided on the empty spot, instead of losing you forever. He had determined years ago, his purpose to protect you was greater than his pain.

You made it hard though. Especially as you ran after him through the halls, after he was explicitly advised not to talk to you with the upcoming full moon. It would be hard to contain Remus and James couldn´t babysit a werewolf and an Animagus at the same time. Especially, if said Animagus was only focused on protecting the girl he loved.

“Sirius!”

He ignored you.

“Sirius Black if you do not stop running, I´ll hex you!” Finally, he stopped in his tracks. So abruptly, you almost ran right into him.

“For Merlin´s sake, you better tell me what is going on!” You scolded him angrily. He avoided your eyes, staring out of the window instead.

“I don’t know-“

“Don´t!” You became angrier by the second, but beneath all that anger was hurt. Why didn´t he tell you? What had you done, that made him loose trust?

“Don´t do this, Sirius. We don´t have secrets from each other, I´ve known you my entire life. If I did something wrong-“

It was his time to cut you off.

“You didn´t do anything wrong!” He assured you quickly and you sighed, as he finally starred into your mellow face.

“But clearly something is wrong and as long as you prefer to keep it from me, instead of letting me help, you can shove our friendship up your ignorant ass!”

He wanted to prevent exactly what just happened; you getting hurt. But you were hurt and his actions felt like betrayal to you.

Angrily and gloomy, you left him standing in the empty hall.

For the next two days, neither of the marauder´s saw much of you. Lily, who shared her room with you was the only one. Sirius, who had given up on trying, after your recent fight, only watched you from afar. Both James and Remus attempted to catch you after class, but you slipped away and hurried back into safeties of your room. All of them worried about the silence that hung like dark thunder clouds, but the full moon was approaching fast. They had bigger worries.

It was on the second day of your oppressive silence; night was approaching and your stomach growled in hunger. You had skipped dinner in order to evade James and Peter, who sat with Lilly. It was weird seeing them without Remus or Sirius, but you hadn´t given it much thought. They were probably up to no good as always.

But as you snuck out your room hoping to get at least a late-night snack, you heard toned down voices. Waiting at the end of the stairs of the common room, you listened to James and Peter.

“Come on, Potter! You can always talk to your girl, but we have to get going now! Sirius will need our help.”

James sighed defeated. “If this continues, Lilly won´t talk to me just like Y/N.”

“If Sirius would´ve acted a little more elaborated, she wouldn´t be as pissed as she is. That boy knows how to charm every girl, but her.”

James snickered at Peter´s comment. “You´re right, let´s go!”

You had no idea what was happening, but your feet acted on pure instinct as you hurried after the two boys. After all, curiosity killed the cat.

They left the school building and you had trouble keeping up, cursing at Merlin for their endurance from the quidditch training. You watched as they arrived at the whomping willow, hiding behind rocks and high grass, and then, they disappeared.

How did the old willow not even attempt to crush them? You eyed the plant structure from a safe distance, analyzing where James had previously stood. Something was there, you couldn´t fully make it out, but James had leaned down a little to touch the willow.

“For Merlin´s sake, those boys will be the death of me!”, you cursed whispering as you hurried to the willow. Hastily and purely relying on hope, you searched the plant for anything. It was your luck, that you found the knot at the base and a secret passage opened up.

Your mouth slightly opened and quietly you admitted, that the marauder weren´t completely stupid. At least not all the time (often enough though). It was a rather awkward slide into the passage, but luckily, James and Peter were already more far off and they didn´t hear your stumbling.

It didn´t take long until you found yourself at the shrieking shack, slowly the pieces were put together. However, you already heard loud voices coming from inside.

At this point, your gut feeling took over your prudence and you hurried inside, following the yelling. Screams from all of the marauders echoed through the old shack and you panted, when all kind of horrible scenarios came to your head. Argument or not, they were your friends and you´d do everything to protect them. With your wand safely in your hand, you entered the large room, but what came to your view wasn´t at all what you had expected…

At the back of the stone wall was Remus… But he wasn´t himself.

In the rise of the silver full moon his eyes turned savage and fur crawled across his skin until he was fully covered. You heard the breaking from the metal chains as he rose from the ground, taller than ever before. A gasp left your lips, which brought all the attention to you.

“Remus!”

James, Sirius and Peter exchanged quick looks, it wasn´t their first battle against the full moon, but this time you were a new meeple in the game. James and Peter lunged forward, trying to keep Remus, who was in full werewolf mode, back and Sirius ran to your side. “What are you doing here?” He asked furious and your head snapped at him.

“Me? You were the one lying to me! I wouldn´t have come, but you were hiding something from me!”

“I wasn´t!”

“Uhm, how about Remus being a werewolf?”

“I wanted to tell you!”

Your argument was interrupted as both James and Peter were thrown against the wall, Remus was on the loose. Sirius who had positioned himself safely in front of you, let out a growl as well.

In the next second, he jumped forward, his clothes ripping and when landing, the four paws scratched across the wooden floor. Yes, you had spent many hours cuddled together with Sirius in his hound form, watching sunsets and sometimes sunrises as well. But it was the first time, you witnessed him other than an adorable dog. This time, he truly seemed dangerous.

Not only he, but Remus as well and you felt fear growing. You didn´t know what they were capable of. Barely realizing how Peter grabbed your arm to pull you back from the fight, you watched as the two shadow figures began battling.

“Y/n stay back”, Peter tried to remind you, but you too captivated. Both he and James couldn’t do much, until Sirius was thrown against a nearby dresser, which fell to pieces. Sirius bellowed in pain and while James tried to help the hound pack on his feet (or paws), you placed yourself right in between him and Remus.

“Remus, remember who you are! We´re your friends!” You exclaimed, but aimed with your wand right at him. No one hurt your friends and seeing Sirius down, felt like a wakeup call.

Remus however didn´t listen and as he made another step closer to you, you were left no choice.

“Stupify!”

The red light bathed the dim room, but then the darkness crawled back into the corners and your senses. Your eyes had to adjust again, but then he was suddenly right in front of you. A sharp pain emerged, as you held up your arms to protect your body and head, then you felt yourself hitting the ground. Everything was spinning, you had lost your wand and burning red liquid ran down your outer, lower arms. Screams echoed further in the shallow room and you did your best to concentrate. Sirius´s dark shadow lunged off the ground and threw Remus back down, howling and growls cut through the air. But the two of them disappeared in blurriness. Two pair of arms grabbed your side.

“Y/n, can you hear us?” James´s distant voice rang through your mind; you formed a faint nod.

Peter starred at the continues blood stream.

“James, she´s losing a lot of blood, we need to get her to the infirmary.” Peter quietly explained and shock as well as fear was clearly written in both of their faces. “What about them?”

James felt like vomiting at the sight of your injury and feared the fact, that you were zooning out more and more. But Sirius had Remus pinned down, and Peter carefully, but rapidly put your arms around James.

“Get her to the infirmary, I´ll help Sirius in tying him down, go!”

It was at the edge of your consciousness as you felt yourself leaning against James, while he tried his best to get you through the dark, dirty passage. Then, before you reached the light of the moon again, you blacked out.

 He had decided years ago, his purpose to protect you was greater than his pain.

 Now Sirius sat on the marble bench outside the infirmary. All he ever wanted was to protect to you, and he failed miserably. Deep, dark circles from lost sleep were seen under his matt eyes. It had been almost two days since the incident and he had not the slightest idea, how James had explained the entire situation. Madame Pomfrey sure had enough to do as he carried you in, in the middle of the night with blood dripping on the way. They were able to stop the bleeding fairly quickly, but your body needed a lot of energy to fully close the wounds. As steps approached, Sirius looked up to find Remus; he looked just as tired.

He had lost all memory of the night, but seeing you pale and injured, hit him hard. He probably hadn´t slept as well. “She´s not awake?”

Sirius didn´t answer, his sole presence was enough. On the other hand, he wasn´t sure if he could even face you.

“Lilly´s with her.”

McGonagall’s lecture was hard, but bearable. Lilly´s on the other hand, only created more remorse. She was right, if he had just told the truth, things would´ve been different, under control at least. A deep empty pit inside his stomach growled as blame remained. But the heaping pain in his heart was even worse. The image of you in the hospital bed had been like a trigger, that created an avalanche. It could´ve ended worse, he could´ve lost you.

Sirius felt like throwing up again as the thought crossed his mind. It was his biggest fear; losing you.

 “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them."

“What in Merlin´s beard are you reading to me?”

Lilly´s head snapped up from the potions book, she couldn´t help herself but feel the need to entertain you. And maybe herself as well, while she held watch at your side.

“You´re up!” The red-head exclaimed excited and sat down on the bed next to you.

“How are you feeling?”

You let a small groan as you sat up a little higher, your limbs felt weak and heavy.

“Tired”, you offered her a small smile.

Your eyes traveled down to the bandages on your arms.

“Glad to see you didn´t amputate them.”

“At least you didn´t lose your humor.”

Then you found Lilly´s gaze again. “What about Sirius and Remus?”

She quickly shook her head. “You left us all worried and with terrible remorse, but we all survived, more or less.” You raised your eyebrow at her, questioning, but she ignored your gesture.

“I´ll just get them.”

Only seconds after, you heard steps approaching again. From behind the curtain came two terribly exhausting looking boys; your boys.

“You both look like shit”, you couldn´t hold back the comment and the three of you erupted in easier laughter. The tensions slightly shrunk. Remus was first to sit down next to you, guilt still hidden behind his eyes. But before he could even speak up, you shook your head.

“Don´t. It´s not your fault, you weren´t you.”

He offered you an apologetic smile.

“If I had told you the truth, or at least allowed Sirius to do so, this wouldn´t have happened.”

“Yeah”, you agreed nodding. “Better to remember for next time.”

Remus grimaced, still eyeing the bandages on your arms. “I hope there won´t be a next time like this.”

“If it helps, I barely remember getting here.”

Remus stayed still, but you carefully grabbed his hand. “Remus, I´m fine. Don´t beat yourself up about it, I forgive you.”

Finally, he looked up as well, nodding with tears in his eyes. It was a huge relief that he felt dropping off his shoulders. He gave you a careful hug. “I think I should give you some more rest, and don´t worry, I´ve been doing all your homework!”

Playfully, you hit his shoulder. “You should´ve started with that apology!”

Remus nodded at his friend as he left your side again, but Sirius remained standing next to your bed. You rose your eyebrow at him. “What´s wrong, Black?”

“Nothing´s wrong, you´re back and healing. It´s all that matters.”

“Something´s clearly wrong.”

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose; it took all his strength not to break down. “We could´ve lost you.” He paused.

“I could´ve lost you.”

“But you didn´t”, you wanted to argue, but Sirius turned his back to you. Nervously wandering up and down in the room.

“I should´ve protected you better”, he mumbled quietly, his hand roughly running through his messy hair.

“That´s not your job-“

“Yes, it is. I can´t take seeing you hurt. So, I need to protect you!” His voice became louder, almost sounding angry. But beneath the façade was angst and deep distress.

“No, it´s not! Your job is to be my friend, not my patronus! You shouldn´t have to hide something like this!”

Suddenly he stopped, his back still facing you and his hands forming fists. You saw how his shoulders rose and dropped from his heavy breathing.

“Maybe, if I can´t protect you as a friend, we can´t be friends.”

His voice was low and so quiet, you weren´t sure at first about the words escaping his mouth. You felt your heart drop at his sentence, a gasp coming from your lips. Your mouth opened, but no words came out and you watched as Sirius pulled the curtain back, leaving the infirmary.

No, you wouldn´t let this go. Not like this.

You threw back the blanket and your bare feet touched the cold ground. You didn´t care though, or about the thin layer of white linen covering your body.

Just outside the infirmary, you caught up to him.

“Maybe we can´t be friends!”

He stopped once again, not bearing the thought of turning to look at you directly. He felt tears forming and he didn´t want you to see him like this. Weak and vulnerable, unable to protect you.

“And you can´t protect me from everything, especially not heartbreak! Because, you, you Sirius Black are breaking my heart!”

Carefully and slowly, he turned towards you, his eyes still glued on the floor. Your voice was quaking and your entire body shaking.

“You were never just a friend to me!”

Swift, in a blink, Sirius was right in front of you, his hands cupping your face. Only inches were left and you felt his warmth breath on your skin.

“I never wanted to break your heart, all I wanted was not to lose you”, he whispered with his voice shaking as well.

“You didn´t lose me and you never will.”

Then you felt his lips on yours and you eased into the kiss. His touch felt welcoming and you inhaled his musky scent. You had been right, no one was able to stop you from falling for your best friend. But after all, you didn´t need protection; all you needed were your friends and your love.

[charliedawn]

Imagine being an old classmate of Lucius and him stumbling upon your shop

As soon as the blond boy enters your shop, you know that trouble is not far behind. The boy is touching an item when another man comes in and warns the child by hitting his hand that was handling said item with his cane, sending him a stern look.

" Come on, Scorpius. Stop acting like a child. You shouldn't touch things that aren't yours. Your father would be ashamed.."

The voice, the look, the hair..Oh no..You would have recognized that condescending tone anywhere. You are about to back away slowly and hide in the back shop when the man coughs from behind you to get your attention.

" Shopkeeper, I am searching for a crystal ball for my grandson's class of Divination. Do you have any of those ?"

The hair at the back of your neck stand on edge at the pompous voice dripping with disdain, but you force yourself to smile and turn around to greet the client.

" For sure, sir. Please, follow me."

He doesn't seem to have recognized you yet and you thank Merlin for that miracle. You show him the different crystal balls and he inspects each one of them with the minutiae of a true expert, but you know that deep down, he is absolutely clueless. You almost let out a snort when he chooses the most useless of the crystal balls to buy, surely because it is the most expensive one and that the Malfoys ever had only one motto : Higher is the price Better quality it must be. You still cash it in and try to contain your laughter at the bad deal the man had just bestowed upon himself. However, you fail to see his brat outside, practicing the Alohomora spell on your front door and before you could truly comprehend what had happened, your door shuts close and traps you both inside. Lucius pales at his grandson's action and immediately withdraws his wand to open the door, but the spell doesn't work and he groans in annoyance.

" What is this ?! Why don't my spells work ?!"

You sigh before looking at your watch..6 o'clock. Of course.

" It won't work. Because of the many thieves roaming the street at night, I spelled this door to not succumb to any spell after 6 o'clock at night..It won't open until 6 o'clock tomorrow morning."

He turns towards you, obviously unnerved and is about to yell at your incompetence when a sudden glimmer of recognition lits up his eyes.

" Wait..I know you..You were in my house. Your name is Y/N, isn't it ?"

You scoff before mockingly clapping.

" Bravo ! Took you long enough.."

He growls at your mocking gesture before looking at the door with a scowl.

" Were you always that irresponsible ?"

You rise an eyebrow before rebutting.

" And you, were you always that annoying ? On second thoughts, don't answer that..this is why nobody invited you to the Yule Ball !"

He blushes in embarrassment and mumbles angrily.

" Why you little..Because I had Narcissa !"

You roll your eyes before replying with a jeering tone.

" Thanks Merlin, you had her ! Or you would still be a virgin !"

You would have never thought to see such passionate hatred in Lucius' eyes, him who usually remained so calm and who always had the perfect comeback. But, as you are both trapped, you sigh before getting two chairs and placing them next to each other while he stands still. You sit down and cross your arms before sighing exasperatedly at him.

" Are you going to stay up all night ? Come on, I don't bite..often."

He humphs at that last part before looking at the chair, maybe trying to decipher if there are any traps under the cushion. But, he finally indulges. You both sit next to each other in silence until Lucius sighs and admits.

" You're wrong, you know ? Someone did invite me..I never knew who it was though ? However, what I do remember, is the effort they had put inside the letter..The silver lines moving like snakes around the paper and the green velvet envelope..They even used perfume: a rich fragrance of mint, leather and a hint of fresh nightingale. No name had been written though and this is why I thought it was Narcissa, since she had been trying to find a way to invite me for a while..But then, I asked her about it and she never dared to admit that it was her who wrote it, I found it cute at the time..But now that the divorce is in motion, I really doubt that it was her."

He sighs loudly before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, exhausted. You had noticed the heavy eyebags and could only imagine what a single grandfather Lucius could be like. No wonder his grandkid locked him inside. But, since he had been nice enough to share his worries with you, it's only normal that you do the same.

" My shop is on the verge of collapsing, nobody is interested in buying quills and papers now that they have those damn muggle phones..It must be me ? I live in the past and now, reality is hitting me hard in the face.."

He listens to you without interrupting and smiles nearly compassionately at you.

" Guess muggles aren't that great anymore, huh ? I knew that, at some point, our worlds would merge, I just didn't want the Wizarding World to be lost forever..It's sad really."

You can't help but laugh bitterly at his comment.

" A Malfoy will remain a Malfoy ! Always with your ideas of purity and against any kind of change ! If you had just been a little more open-minded, maybe you wouldn't be the most hated family in all the Wizarding World ?"

He only scoffs dismissively at your comment.

" What is the point of being liked when you have power ?"

You look at him and smirk.

" Power ? True power doesn't come from money, Lucius..If you had been paying a little bit more attention, you would have known that power comes in many different shapes and forms..Everybody could have power over anybody, if they only know how to play their assets.. "

He arks an eyebrow at you before smirking as well and asks almost daringly.

" Really ? And what power do you have over me then ?"

The both of you ferociously stare at each other for a while and then, you finally decide to jump on him and tackle him to the ground, to his greatest astonishment. Before he can do anything, you take his cane and throw it away. You then take some nearby rope and, in a few minutes, Lucius is defenseless. When he tries to speak, you put your hand around his throat and squeeze. He grits his teeths and you smile victoriously.

" What was that you were saying about true power ? See how easy it was for me to take the upper hand ? You Malfoy men, always playing the same dangerous game..Over and over again. Never learning that it takes a woman to truly feel powerful..Now that Narcissa is gone, it would be a shame if I were to bite your head off ? Who is going to save you ? Your son ? I doubt it..He hates you. Your wife was your best protection, people always underestimate the power of a mother..But, dear Lucius, you should have known better than treat everyone you come across as pathetic worthless worms..Now, you can either tell me that you were wrong, or I'll tell everyone that a mere half-blood has put the great Lucius Malfoy on his back.."

His eyes widen at the revelation before remembering that he had never seen your mother..Your father was a metamorphmagus and many respected him and that had always been enough..He should have definitely digged deeper. He groans, trying to free himself, but to no avail. He finally glares up at you with everything he feels: disgust being a very distinctive look on him.

" Let me go this instant, you filthy mud..!"

But before he could finish his sentence, you bit his shoulder so profoundly that he finds himself on the verge of screaming..He only hisses instead and you then whisper in his ear.

" Ask nicely..and I may consider it."

He sighs, how could he have been so stupid ? And now, he is pretty sure the memory of submitting to the halfblood would stay in his mind forever..

" Could you please let me go ?"

He finally asks politely but, he is surprised when you start kissing up the side of his neck.

" See ? You can be nice when you want to.."

He groans, still frustrated, but also strangely aroused by all this..But, of course that, he would never admit it to you. He only closes his eyes and hopes that you will stop when you notice that he isn't paying attention to you anymore. However, you aren't going to let him go so easily. You take him suddenly by the chin to force him to look back at your flashing yellow eyes and, to his surprise, you growl.

" Eyes on me, pretty boy..You wanted to see real power ? I'll show you what real power looks like.."

Again, you attack his neck and grind against him until he sees stars.

" You..You will never.."

He tries to speak, but his words get lost when you get him out of his coat and throw it to the ground carelessly.

" Hey ! That coat costs more than your whole damn muggle shop !"

You bite him again, a little less hard on his clavicle, only to shut him up again and roll your eyes playfully at him.

" Me who always thought that you were an ice king, you are just a snow princess.."

He opens his eyes wide at the nickname before glaring at you.

" What did you call me, parasite ?"

You dramatically put your hand at the level of your chest, as if the insult had hurt you before smirking down at him.

" What ? Is that the best you got ? Parasite ? Well, don't forget that said parasite is the one who is making you harder than rock right now..Must hurt, isn't it baby ?"

He clenches his jaw hard at your taunting tone before suddenly raising his pelvis to hit yours, making you moan loudly. When you open your eyes again, he is grinning up at you and asks mockingly.

" What was that ? I thought you said you were going to show me power, but all I hear are the purrs of a pitiful kitten who thinks she is a predator.."

You growl and put your hands around his throat. You aren't playing anymore and want to kill him..To kill him for everything he had done, everything he was..

" Die, you piece of trash !"

But, far from being affected by your sudden death sentence, Lucius only smiles weakly at you and takes your wrists that are shaking around his throat. He takes your moment of inattention to flip you under him, your wrists pinned to the floor.

" It isn't fair.."

You mumble almost in tears as he frowns in incomprehension at you. Why are you crying ? You are the one who had attacked him first, and now you are the one saying that it isn't fair ? As if you could read minds, you try to explain.

" I tried so hard to escape..To escape from you Malfoys and the misery that you seem to surround those who try to get close to you..But even years later, I still end up crossing your damned path !"

He tilts his head to the side, surprised by your sudden outburst and stares at you while you start sobbing and wiggle to set yourself free. When he is sure that you aren't going to attack him again, he slowly shifts his hands from around your wrists to gently wrap them around your waist. He then cradles you in his arms and puts his chin on the top of your head before closing his eyes, calmly stroking your back with his hand to soothe you. It takes a few moments for the both of you to calm down and get back to a normal regular breathing rhythm.

" Soon, I'll be out of your shop and you will never see me again.."

You know that he is trying to reassure you, but the realization makes your heart skip a beat in fear. You would not see him again..He would never know who wrote him that letter all those years ago..He would forget about you. Narcissa had been clear on what would happen to you if you ever dared tell him who was the true writer of the letter..But, would it really matter now ? Narcissa was gone and Lucius was there, his arms wrapped around you. Also, surprisingly, had not make a move to get his wand back to Avada Kedavra you yet. It was a good sign, right ? You look up at him and as soon as your eyes meet, you know that he isn't going to hurt you. You then look at the crystal bowl that he had bought, broken and splattered on the floor. You sigh before reluctantly standing up and getting your most precious crystal ball out of the shelf and giving it to him. He frowns in confusion at your gift.

" What are you doing ? I haven't paid for that one.."

You smile genuinely up at Lucius before silently picking his coat up and running your hand on the soft material before giving it back to him as well.

" I think it should be better if you would take a moment to rest, Mr Malfoy..My behavior was inappropriate and I shouldn't have acted the way I did. It was foolish of me and I humbly ask that you do not sue the shop for my mistake. It is already in a very bad condition and I do not have the money to pay you back for what I did to you.."

He opens his eyes wide in shock before looking at the items in his hands, and finally lays them on a nearby table.

" I do not care about all that now. I don't even understand you. At first, you say that you hate me and try to kill me, then you bite me and try to seduce me in a very odd and savage way, and now this ? What are you trying to tell me, Y/N ?"

You bawl your hands into fists and bite your inner cheek in order not to say anything and turn around to leave. He is to never know who you are or why you are angry at him..You thought he was smart, but you had to admit that he was not the one you thought he was.

" This is where we part ways, my ice prince. Tomorrow, you will come back to your kingdom of paper people and fake happiness and I'll be just another insignificant person that you will forget..Until then, I suggest we both sleep our separate ways. The sofa on your right will be just enough comfort for you and I'll be sleeping in the back with the best company one can have: books."

He stares at you for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before following you and locking the door behind him. You squint your eyes suspiciously as he flashes you a dark grin.

" After all this time, I finally found you.."

The dangerous vibe he is giving you makes you quiver in fear and you step back until you hit the wall. He chuckles at you poor attempt to escape and when he looks up at you again, you can see that his icy blue eyes are nearly glowing in the dark. He gets out his cane that you regret not having taken and slowly makes his way to you, running the tip of his wand on the many books kept on the shelves. You suddenly feel cold sweat running down your back, is he going to kill you ? You wonder as he stops just in front of you and his eyes brighten as he slowly makes a mental map of your body with his eyes that give away a certain appreciation..Is he planning on disposing of your body piece by piece ? Suddenly, he take you by the jaw and forces you to look directly in his eyes as he runs the tip of his wand on your cheek, neck and collarbone. He then leans forward and whispers in his low baritone voice.

" I hope you had fun teasing me..Because it will be the last time I'll ever allow you to make a fool out of me..What ? You thought I wouldn't recognize the perfume ? You stink of the same thing you sprayed that letter ages ago..And, if it wasn't for that, there is only one person that I've ever heard call me ice prince."

He knew. He knows. Oh no..You feel your eyes sprinkle with tears in front of the truth. When you think things couldn't get any worse, he summons said letter with his magic and smirks at your horrified expression.

" I kept it. Want me to refresh your memory ?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before starting reading out loud the subject of your embarrassment.

" My ice prince, I have been considering over the past few months to ask you humbly to accompany me to the Yule Ball. My dreams are filled with your scent and marvelous blue eyes that seem to light up a path to Heaven. When I close my eyes, my thoughts are filled with images of your delicate..Oh my !"

He stops abruptly and glances at you with a sinful smile.

" I had forgotten how detailed the letter was..I remember making Narcissa very happy the following day. To think that it could have been you..You must be feeling so disappointed.."

You blush vividly and try to get out of his grip by scratching his face, but he takes both of wrists and pins them above your head with one hand before continuing reading, not the least bothered.

"Oh no, my darling..You'll stay right there and listen to every word you wrote me..You'll listen and I'll make sure that you remember all of them by heart by the end of the night.. That way, you can shout all you want about how you've put the great Malfoy on his back, but I'll have the immense pleasure to tell everyone who I've succeeded in bringing to her knees."

Your heartbeat quickens at his words and you try to get back up, but Lucius doesn't let you. He pins you down to the table while motioning you to stay quiet.

" You..You're evil.."

You manage to gasp out and he chuckles, as if the insult in itself was some kind of hilarious joke.

" Coming from you ? It's a compliment, my dear..You bit me and tried to kill me. Now, where was I ? Ah, yes..Your delicate hands around my throat and your tongue against the crook of my neck.."

He leans in and slowly and sensually licks your neck from your collarbone to that place behind your ear. He then proceeds to whisper in the shell of your ear.

" I must admit, you are far more responsive than Narcissa at the time.."

His hand lowers itself agonizingly slow down your waist until he reaches your waist and suddenly uses it as leverage to drag you towards him brutally, as if to make you realize that it is happening, that he is here, that it isn't all just a dream..

" Your lips look irresistibly pleasing, my dear..Mind if I get a taste ?"

Before you can say anything, his lips are upon yours and his tongue is invading every crevice of your mouth. You roll your hips against him as a response and he slowly drags his other hand from your wrist to your throat. He squeezes lightly and with your free hands, you cradle his face for him to stay still.

"..I've never seen such beautiful sapphire eyes and only the thought of you makes me want to sing and dance.."

The letter falls from his hand as he understands that he doesn't have to remind you..as you've never truly forgotten. He kisses you again, but sweetly this time. Before you can continue however, he stands up and gets out of the room, leaving you hot and bothered.

" What are you doing ?!"

You yell, almost in despair and he only chuckles before closing the door behind him.

" I did what I said. You won't forget that letter any time soon..However, I can't allow myself to be seen with an half-blood..It would be improper."

" Im..Improper..?"

You repeat, as if dumbstruck by the fact that you may have been played with..You look at the door with a glare before getting up and walking determinedly towards the door. You try to open it, but find it locked.

" Lucius ! Open this door right now !"

But you are only met with a laugh from the other side.

" Good night."

You try to open it by force, but it doesn't work and you can't do anything but declare defeat. You get back to the table and sit on it before burying your face in your arms, trying to muffle your tears as Lucius had, once again, tricked you. But, to your surprise, you hear the door opening and see Lucius standing there, guilt written all over his features.

" I..I didn't think that you would actually cry.."

You don't know what angers you the most : his genuine shock or the fact that he is now staring at you, completely lost ? You try to get past him, but he doesn't let you and cages you in his arms.

" Come on..You know I was only playing. I was going to open it soon enough.."

You try to get out of his grip, but the man is not ready to let you go any time soon. He even tightens his hold on you and you finally lean back, inhaling his very expensive cologne.

" Am I just a game to you, Lucius ?"

You ask with a heavy heart and he decides to answer truthfully.

" At first..you were. But, now ? I don't think so. After the war, I understood that I may have acted wrong. I'm still trying to get better. I may have had very bad ideas over this concept of pure-blood supremacy and other..But, I know now thanks to my son and my grandson that I acted out and I wish to make amends. I truly do. This is why, I think I want to give it a try..Will you help me ? Please ?"

You are taken aback by such honesty in Lucius, but still nod in agreement.

" I have had many phases in my life, some when I hated you and some when I lov..liked you. I don't think that you are a bad man, Lucius. I just think that you are a very ambitious and very proud person. If you could just spend some time with people like me..You would see that we aren't so different..This is why I'm willing to make the first step."

He looks at your outstretched hand for a moment before finally taking it with a small smile.

" I'm looking forward to working with you, Miss Y/N."

The next day, Lucius is finally free from the shop and remains courteous. He even apologizes on behalf of his grandson and Draco seems surprised by his sudden change in behavior.

" Did you use magic on him or what ?"

He asks you in a whisper, but you only laugh heartily and shake your head.

" No. I just talked to him..and he listened."

Lucius smiles, his eyes creasing a bit and you glance at each other with a knowing look. Lucius would be back. He had still much to learn afterall..

[harrytpotter]

A 100 Years of Love — One-Shot

Plot: James Potter asks Y/N - his best friend - for advice on how to impress a certain girl he fancies, unbeknownst to him that she was hopelessly in love with him.

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

A/N: Here i am twice in the same day with a new James imagine, because that’s how obsessed with him I am! Hope you guys like it, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my mother language, hence any probable grammar mistake. :)

Being a sixth year at Hogwarts was bittersweet. As much as you were happy that studies were almost over and so were the anguish concerns about exams, grades and graduating, you were also undeniably sad as you could feel the end of it all approaching at a fast pace. To think you soon wouldn’t be able to wander through the castle’s hallways after curfew with your friends, feeling the thrill of not knowing whether you’d be catched or not; to think you wouldn’t party hard with them at the Gryffindor tower after a Quidditch win; to think you wouldn’t be surrounded by your friends 24 hours a week; and, lastly but most importantly, to think you wouldn’t be seeing him often, it just... hurt. Not that seeing him every single day didn’t hurt at all. Specially since the gossip that he fancied one of your best friends had spreaded like wildfire through the school about a year ago. Sighing heavily, you close your book and set it aside as you leant against the thick trunk of a three, staring at the sunny sky above you.

“Y/N L/N, just the person I’ve been looking for!” An overly-confident male voice shouted from behind you. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, feeling his arrogant smirk radiating through the air.

“What now, Potter? Lily isn’t here, in case you haven’t noticed,” you tease your friend, a grin on your face trying to mask the twinge of sad that hit your heart as you said that.

“I may wear glasses but it doesn’t mean I’m blind, you know?!” He shrugs, a grimace stamped on his face as he sat in front of you. “Would you help a friend out, love?” He adds with a wink.

“Well, I’ll regret saying yes to you, won’t I?” You frown with conformity. It’s not like you could say no to him anyway.

“Excuse me? Since when saying yes to me gets you in any sort of trouble, darling?” He smirks sneakily at you, his hand in his chest in mock offense.

“Aren’t you a complete arse, James Potter?!” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t stop a grin from taking over your lips.

“Oh, please, you know you love me,” he winks at you, causing you to get all flustered. That was the problem with James: he was a flirt by nature. That’s just who he was, he couldn’t help it. It was simply a trait of his personality. He would flirt aimlessly without even noticing he was doing so. He couldn’t be blamed. Still, it didn’t help to ease the effect it — and he — had on you.

“Just say what you bloody want already,” you sigh.

“So, there’s this girl I’ve been trying to impress for quite some time now but, bugger me, she doesn’t seem to give a single shite about me at all,” he starts, staring intensely into your eyes.

“Have it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, she’s not that into your arrogant self?” You tease, cutting him off.

“Merlin’s beard, would you let me finish before judging, woman?” He rolled his eyes at you. “As I was saying, I need to win her over before a git gets in the way of our love story.”

“Love story? Seriously?” You laughed even though you didn’t feel an ounce of amusement in your body. “James, look, i don’t mean to discourage you or anything, but are you sure it’s not the time to give up?” You shoot him a sympathetic glance. Lily really didn’t seem to care about him at all, just like he said. Of course you couldn’t know it for sure, since you were so bloody afraid to ask her if she liked him back, but you knew your best friend. She would’ve sent him signs by now if she too was interested. At least that’s what you hoped, since the last thing you wanted was to be head over heels for the same guy your best friend was smitten with.

“I’m not known to give up that easily, love. Besides, I can’t seem to back away from this, and believe me, I’ve tried,” he stated, his eyes distant as he was lost inside his own head.

You feel a sudden anger at him. Despite your deep infatuation for James and the friendship the two of you shared, Lily was your best friend and you didn’t like the sound of what he just said. “Oh, so that’s what it’s all about to you? A challenge? Some kind of game?”

“No! Y/N, no...” he quickly exclaims, snapping back to reality. “She’s much more than that. She’s... she makes me feel things, you know?! Things I’ve never even known that were possible to feel. She annoys me, teases me, makes me go mad of desire and despair every time she smiles at me and... Merlin, that smile! I swear to you that it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Every time she walks in it’s just like... I’m staring at the sun, she makes everything so much brighter. She makes life so much brighter. She drives me nuts. Damn, I’m in love!” He blurts out, his face filled with devotion, admiration and a burning passion.

Every word that got out of his mouth was like a stab right into your heart. Hearing he say those things hurt more than you ever thought it would. This was the first time he had ever admitted his feelings towards Lily to you, even though you were his best friend. You stared at the grass whilst taking a deep breath, cautiously making sure you’d be able to hide the hurt in your voice and eyes before you could look at him or speak again.

“Well, sounds like you’re serious about her,” you smiled softly at him. It didn’t reach your eyes but you made sure he wouldn’t notice that. “Orange petals lilies,” you add after a while. “In some muggle cultures lilies are tied to 100 years of love. They are also tied to good luck. Plus they mean infatuation, attraction and admiration. Pretty much what you just said you feel. I think it’s very suitable,” you managed to squeeze his arm reassuringly, showing him he had your support. Afraid that you would be unable to keep repressing the sadness that threatened to take you over, you get up and start walking, leaving a thoughtful James behind.

“Thank you, L/N!” He shouts.

“Anytime, Potter,” you answer without turning back to face him, quickening your pace as the tears began to flood your eyes.

***

After your conversation with James, it looked like he and Lily were everywhere you went. Whispering secretively, giggling together in the corners of the castle. Painfully reminding you that you weren’t the one for him. Like now. You couldn’t stop but staring at them, not sure whether to feel happy or bitter.

“Seeing anything interesting?” Sirius snook up on you, whispering into your year, causing you to jump in fright.

“Merlin! You scared me, you daft dimbo!” You slap him in the head with the book you had in your hands.

“Ouch! I’m not the one you’re mad at, should i remind you!” He exclaimed vigorously, protecting his head with his arm.

“I’m not mad at anyone!” You shoot angrily, hitting him again with your book.

“Would you stop hitting me, for Merlin’s sake?”

“What’s going on here?” Lily asks. When you turn around to face her, you’re met by hers and James’ inquisitively stares.

“Just a little PDA, right Black?!” You smirk ironically at him, leaving before anyone else could say anything.

“What just happened?” Remus asked intrigued whilst approaching the little group of friends, joining Sirius, Lily and James in watching you disappear into the castle.

“That, my friend, is what jealousy can do to a person,” Sirius shrugged, a grimace on.

“What do you mean by that?” James asks, frowning in confusion.

“I mean that she was staring at you and Lily, mate,” Sirius winked at his best friend.

“But why would she be jealous at all?” He shrugged, even more confused.

“Boys can be so stupid sometimes,” Lily rolls her eyes at him, clearly amused at his obliviousness.

As James continued to look confuse, Remus intervened: “The rumors. About you and Lily.”

“Oh!” He opened his mouth in realization, soon looking confused again. “But these rumors just started because Lily and I were spending more time together as she was advising me to act on my feelings and confess them to Y/N!” He shrugged.

“But she doesn’t know that, does she now genius?” Lily smacked the back of his head with her hand.

“WAIT!” James shouts suddenly, gaining a frown from the little crowd. “Does- does it mean she... likes me?” He asks, his eyes twinkling with hope.

“Prongs... what have we been telling you for the past year, you idiot?” Remus shook his head in disbelief at his friend.

“Well, I assumed you were all just saying that so I could grow the courage and ask her out,” he shrugged.

“You’re more stupid than people give you credit for, do you know that?” Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest, rolling her eyes and smiling.

James stood there for a few seconds before speeding off towards the near mirror that held a secret passage to Hogsmeade behind it.

“Where exactly are you going?” Remus shouted at his friend.

“To secure myself a 100 years of love!” He shouted back, a wide grin shining on his face.

“Has he gone mental?” Sirius asked Remus and Lily, a brow furrowed.

“Hasn’t he always been?” Lily retorts, causing all three of them to explode in a laughter.

***

“Oi! L/N!” James shouted from behind you and you slowed your pace so he could catch up with you.

“Don’t you have someone else to torture?” You ask him, playfully rolling your eyes, once he was walking beside you.

“Probably, but I choose you,” he winks and stops in front of you, both of his hands rested on your shoulders.

“Lucky me!” You raise your brows ironically.

“Always so sweet, huh love?” He laughs and you can feel your knees trembling. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know that today is the day!” He winks at you suggestively before turning around and leaving you.

You stare at him in confusion and shrug before continue to walk to your destination. He could be quite weird sometimes.

***

As you approached the door of the dorm you shared with Lily, Marlene and Alice, your eyes spot a beautiful vase full of orange lilies inside. “Just wanted to let you know that today is the day!” James’ words crept back to your mind as you stared at the beautiful flowers. This was it. The day he would finally confess his feelings to Lily and ask her out. With your eyes filled with tears, you duck a little and pick up the vase, getting inside the dorm. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized it was empty, putting the flowers carefully on top of Lily’s nightstand and locking yourself into the bathroom, finally allowing the tears to fall violently down your face.

Casting a silencing spell so no one could hear you, you stare at your broken self in the mirror. “This is the last time you’ll ever cry for him. The last time you’ll allow yourself to feel anything other than friendship for him. He’s smitten with Lily and they deserve to be happy together,” you say to your reflection before prepping yourself to get into the bath to take a relaxing and long shower.

After changing into your pajamas and making sure you looked presentable and your eyes weren’t swollen of puffed, you remove the silencing spell and unlock yourself out of the bathroom. Lily was sitting in your bed waiting for you, the flowers and a card in hand. You pressed your lower lip between your teeth to suppress the wave of sadness forming inside of you once again. Of course she’d want to tell you that James had finally asked her out and talk about it, you were her best friend after all.

“Nice flowers,” you say whilst sitting by her side and pulling your pillow into your lap.

“I do think they’re nice myself, I just don’t understand why would you put your nice flowers on my nightstand,” she frowns with a smirk.

“I’m sorry? My flowers?” You ask her, confused.

“Well, aren’t you Y/N L/N?” She offers you the card.

“Yes, but... these are not for me! James sent them to you!” You raise your hands in denial, not even bothering to pick up the card nor look at it.

“Merlin help me! If you bothered yourself to look at the bloody card you’d see it doesn’t say Lily Evans on the envelope,” she rolls her eyes, swinging the card in front of your face.

Reluctantly, you grab the card from her hand and look at its envelope. It had your name in the back of it, written in James’ calligraphy. Your heart started pounding furiously inside your chest as you opened it in shock. Inside of it, there was a little note from him. You start reading it out loud so Lily could hear it, noticing the curious glare she was sending you.

“Hello, my little private sun!

If I, by any chance, make your life as brighter as you make mine, please meet me on the top of the Astronomy Tower at twelve o’clock sharp. I really hope you can make it, love. There’s something I need to properly tell you.

Yours and yours only, Prongs.”

You stood there staring at the parchment, your mouth wide open. Did it mean he liked you? What about Lily? What about the gossiping?

“Well...” Lily swing her head inquisitively. As you continued to stand still, staring at the note with a dumbfounded look, she adds impatiently, “just go, woman!”

Glancing at the watch on your nightstand, you jump out of bed. 11:50 pm.

“Damn you, Potter!” You exclaim before speeding off the dorm, hearing Lily’s screams of excitement behind you.

You ran through the castle’s hallways as fast as you could, as if your life depended on it. The paintings and portraits on the walls shouted words of annoyance as you passed by them in a blur with your wand lit up, but you couldn’t care less. You couldn’t care about being caught. You couldn’t care about Filch or McGonagall, let alone the detention you’d be rewarded with by her if any of them surprised you out of bed at this late hour of night. All you cared about was getting to James. He was always all you cared about.

***

James glanced at his wrist and let out a sigh, it was 00:05 am and you still haven’t showed up. Sitting on the floor, he stares at the stunningly starred night sky. He felt a tightening in his stomach. What if all of your friends were wrong and you only saw him as a friend? Before he could torture himself any longer with his despairing thoughts, he hears the door crackling open and gets up, turning around to face a breathless Y/N.

“You came!” He exclaims softly, gazing at you with relief.

“Where else would I be you idiot?” You frown happily at him, closing the door behind you and taking a look at your surroundings.

The walls had been enchanted by James to look like the night sky outside, a similar spell seen in the ceiling of the Great Hall. Stars were twinkling brightly all around you and the floor was covered in orange lilies.

“Wow, Potter, you really outdone yourself here, didn’t you?” You looked amazed at him.

“I might have had a little help from Flitwick and Minnie, you know, us being their favorite students and all...” James joked teasingly as he started to walk slowly towards you.

“I guess being the teachers favorites really has its perks,” you frown playfully, slowly walking in his direction as well. “I believe you have something you need to properly tell me?”

“Oh, yes! About that, I wanted to thank you for your help with the girl I’m madly in love with. It worked out smoothly!” He winked, causing you to laugh.

“‘m always happy to help you! Hope she‘s worth the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, she totally is! In fact, she’s so worthy that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to win her over.”

“And why all of this determination in winning her heart? If I’m allowed to ask,” your narrow your eyes, that held a burning fire inside of it.

“Because she’s all I can think about and all I care about. She’s in my head when I wake up and still is in my head when I go to sleep. She’s bloody stubborn and challenging and annoying and... Merlin, I love her,” he says playfully and tenderly as you finally are in front of each other, faces merely inches apart. He rested his hands on your waist, tightening his grip as he did so.

“That’s good to know,” you whisper, staring at his eyes, breathing unsteadily whilst landing your hands on his chest.

“And why is that?” He asks, his eyes swinging from your eyes to your lips.

“Because she can’t stop thinking about this arrogant, overly-confident stupid boy either. And she also loves him, so much it consumes her,” you answer, staring at his lips hungrily.

“Are you being serious right now? I mean, are- are you sure? I don’t wanna pressure you or-,” he starts, looking into your eyes nervously with a longing frown. Not even resembling the self-assured Quidditch team captain and most popular guy in Hogwarts.

You chuckle lightly at his adorable worried face and bite your lower lip whilst smiling sweetly at him.

“Of course I’m sure, you blind daft! Just kiss me already, for Merlin’s sake!” You exclaim, pulling him by his shirt collar into a passionate kiss.

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 8

WARNINGS: maybe a little bit of angst

Chapter 8 - Dear Theodora

It’s been 2 days since Theodora’s birthday and she still couldn’t get over her letter to Bill. She hated that she gave in and wrote him back. What was she thinking? Bill will think she’s insane and she started to panic – forgetting what she wrote as she wrote the letter at 4 in the morning – wondering if she said too much.

How could she allow herself to do this? How could she be so stupid? Bill just wanted to give her something for her birthday and she blew it out of porpo...

Theodora’s thoughts were disturbed by a tap on her window. She let out a gasp as the owl startled her. She pushed herself off the bed and walked to the window to let the owl in.

Giving the owl some treats and letting the window open so that the bird can easily fly out when she pleases to do so, she sat back on her bed with the envelope in her hand.

With the two letters she received 2 days ago, she recognized the handwriting on the envelope as Bill’s at once.

She knew she made a mistake writing to him. He probably sent her a letter to tell her that she should stop writing to him or how inappropriate he found her reply.

Theodora opened the envelope with shaking hands and took out the parchment. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that if she waited for another second to see what he wrote to her, she would simply burn it and let the curiosity kill her.

Dear Theodora,

it brought a smile to my face to know you received the gift and that you liked it so much. Did you ever get to cast the spell on the rose? Do you still have it?

How did you spend your birthday? Fred and George told me that they are going to surprise you with a party – did they succeed? I hope you had fun and that they didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t like.

They also told me that you are having quite a bit of trouble with your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Has she calmed down? Fred said something about a new regime and her inventing rules all the time?

Are you alright? How is everybody coping with that?

I sure hope she isn’t intervening with your education. Remember that you will soon finish school and won’t have to see her ever again.

I know you are strong and can handle it. Just try not to get yourself into too much trouble. I know you’re a good student – I just don’t trust her, that’s all.

I apologize if expressing my concern went too far,

Bill

Theodora was once again thankful that her roommates were asleep. She couldn’t imagine how her face must’ve looked like reading the letter. Bill didn’t say anything about her letter being distasteful – on the contrary, it seemed he wasn’t bothered by her reply at all.

And he was asking her all these questions and he even seemed concerned for her and the twins.

He was just worried about his brothers doing alright and making sure they don’t get in trouble with Umbridge. She only made Bill worried and of course, now she has to reply to him otherwise he will worry even more.

She tip-toed to her desk – careful not to wake her roommates – and took out a piece of parchment and her writing set.

Dear Bill,

I did cast the spell on the rose and I am happy to say it’s still as beautiful as I found it on my bed. Even though it’s only been 2 days it’s a nice motivation to endure Dolores Umbridge.

My birthday has been as lovely as every year with your brothers around. I knew they were up to something for weeks but they succeeded in surprising me nonetheless after our Quidditch practice. The party was great – chill but amazing and full of laughter. I think I got to my dorm at 2 in the morning and Freddie and Georgie were over the roof that they succeeded.

Back to Umbridge – I honestly don’t know what to tell you. She is evil. That would be one way of putting it. She gives your brothers and me detention almost every week. I know we should keep our mouths shut but sometimes she takes it too far.

She keeps trying to convince us that You-Know-Who is not back and she made Harry write lines: I must not tell lies with a black quill. Honestly, I don’t know how she got away with it. The scar it left on his hand is still not completely healed and no matter how we try to stay out of trouble, we want to stay on Harry’s side. Merlin knows he needs all the support. It’s enough that there are barely any students who believe him.

I’m alright and so are all your siblings so you don’t have to worry. We are there for each other and we are thinking of doing something about her but we don’t know what quite yet.

She keeps attending other lessons and there are rumors that she wants to sack Professor Trelawney. Can she even do that?

I am not as concerned about myself, I know I am out of here in a few months. But what if she gets to stay? What if she will be around for years with Harry and Hermione and Ginny and Ron still at school? I don’t want them to be around that woman!

It’s nice to see how much you care for your siblings and expressing your concern so don’t worry about it being too much. I will protect them as much as I can, you have my word.

Theodora

She folded the parchment and since the owl was in no hurry to leave and kept pecking at her quill while she was writing, she decided to send the letter back immediately. She wouldn’t want Bill to be worried about his siblings so the sooner she can tell him they are all alright the better.

Dear Theodora,

if the rose makes you feel motivated to stay in school with everything you described in your last letter, I will gladly send you another one.

I am beginning to see what you said about the twins while we were at the Burrow last summer. They really are amazing friends to you and I am proud of them for that. They might like to joke around but I can see that they take you seriously and that’s a good quality of theirs – they are growing up.

Honestly, things have been chaotic everywhere. I don’t understand how she can have so much power either and it scares me to see what she can do to students. I believe Harry as well – we all do – but I hope that for his sake, he will stop talking back at Umbridge.

If she used that quill on him, who knows what else she is capable of. I know it’s none of my business telling you this, but be careful. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt or get in serious trouble with that woman because you had to defend someone.

I know how it sounds – you should stand up for what you believe but do so together if you can. Unfortunately, I reckon things will only get worse from here on out and Ron told me that you don’t have proper DADA lessons. I think you should try and find a way to learn some spells on your own. I can tell you about some that might come in handy.

You have to be prepared for anything and know that you can’t trust all your teachers anymore. Whether they would like it or not, they might not have the power to protect you, so you will have to do so yourself.

I admire you for trying to fight for what is right and I have no doubt that you and the twins are already sticking your heads together and thinking of what to do or how to make the situation better. At least try to do so quietly and strike when she’ll least expect it.

I think at this point, she can do whatever she wants. And if she starts firing the most innocent of professors then she might take all your protection away from you. Just know that you are safe at school as long as Headmaster Dumbledore is around.

Thank you for easing my mind and telling me all my siblings are okay – it means a lot. But know that I worry for you as much as for them.

Please stay safe,

Bill

Theodora didn’t know what to think of Bill’s letter. She has to ask Harry if he needs some help with the spells they are going to learn.

She was now even happier that they came up with the idea of trying to defend themselves and Bill was right – it will only get worse from here so she and the twins need to act fast and try to get that woman out of their school.

They had a rather peaceful time at Hogwarts and if there is anything she can do about it, she wants to help the next generations to have the same experience and she couldn’t see that happening with the toad on the throne.

It brought a smile to her face when she read that Bill wants to give her another rose. She would like to think that the gesture is romantic but she thought better of it. She knew now – Bill telling her that he is also concerned for her – that he sees her as a good friend and as much as she would like him to think of her as something more, she couldn’t deny being friends with him meant a lot to her too.

Dear Bill,

the rose is going stronger than ever. I had to get a bigger glass from the kitchen as it keeps growing and is not even close to withering away.

I know it would be better if Harry stopped talking about You-Know-Who around that woman but at the same time, I admire him for it. We should all spread awareness that our world might not be as safe as it used to be and don’t worry we are doing something about it!

Harry, Ron, and Hermione came up with an idea to have secret lessons on how to defend ourselves. We had a meeting a week ago and I have to say they are quite prepared. I will tell you if we would need any spells to work on but I think Harry has a whole curriculum for us and I can’t help but be excited about it!

We will have these meetings in secret, don’t you worry and all your siblings are a part of it, so they will all know how to defend themselves.

Fred, George, and I have an idea how to get back at Umbridge. It would take weeks to execute the plan but it might just work to make other students want to fight back!

I know you trust Dumbledore and so do I, but to be honest he hasn’t been around much. Perhaps that’s the reason she can get away with everything she wants.

We will keep an eye out and try and protect and get as many students on our side as we can. We are doing a great job so far, a lot of people that didn’t believe Harry before are on our side now and that gives me hope.

How is it on your side? How are you handling everything?

Expressing my concern for you in the hopes you are okay,

Theodora

Theodora came to her dorm late one evening – exhausted from another DA meeting. She fell on her bed – with her nose straight into the sheets – when she heard her body crushing something. She moved to see what it was and found a letter in the middle of her bed.

Dear Theodora,

I can’t express how proud I am of you, my siblings, and all your friends for doing what you are. I think you are doing the right thing creating this secret group of yours and I hope you won’t get caught.

I believe Harry is the best teacher you could have. He, after all, faced the Dark Lord many times and I think we could all learn something from him. I secretly wish to be there with you. It not only sounds nice to learn new spells but also fun for doing so with your friends.

I feel relief that Ginny and Ron are a part of it. I know that the twins are quite good with their spellwork but Ginny and Ron are still young and I don’t even want to imagine them fighting.

Dumbledore, unfortunately, has a lot on his mind and is also working on something else about which I can’t tell you for your own protection. Let’s just say that you are not the only one forming a group.

You are truly remarkable, do you know that? Wanting to help the younger students and promising to protect them without even thinking twice about it, makes me think that the Hat did a great job sorting you into Gryffindor.

Thank you for expressing your concern for me. I can assure you I am doing fine. I am thinking about leaving Egypt so I can be closer to home. I know it’s my dream job but family and friends are more important and if anything ought to go down, I want to be there to help and I can’t see myself doing so from Egypt.

Things here are okay otherwise. Of course, a day doesn’t go by without whispers and people expressing concern even though it seems we are so far away from troubles.

I promise I will stay out of harm's way so you needn’t worry about me.

Bill

Theodora read the letter twice – as she did with every single one Bill sent her. She couldn’t deny that she was getting quite fond of them writing back and forth so much and it made her mind more peaceful knowing that Bill was okay.

She yawned and looked at the time. It wasn’t even 10 in the evening but she felt so tired. She folded the piece of parchment and promised herself to write him back the second she wakes up tomorrow.

Dear Bill,

Our meetings are going great. As you can imagine Freddie and Georgie are having no problems perfecting all their spells. Ron is doing a great job too! I think all three of them were pleasantly surprised by Ginny though. Your sister is one of the most powerful witches I have ever seen!

Her spells are so strong and she doesn’t need much time at all to master them. All your brothers are very proud of her and I think their mind is more at ease – knowing Ginny is perfectly capable of defending herself. She isn’t a baby anymore!

My heart is lighter knowing that you are doing okay. I fully support you if you decide to come back to be closer to your family. My brother Eric is thinking of doing the same. He doesn’t trust my mother to take good care of me and him being an Auror could help when things get bad.

I think it would mean a lot to your family to have you closer. I know Mrs. Weasley would sleep better at night. Charlie wrote to me a few days ago, saying that she is constantly asking him if he is alright being so far away. I can imagine you are getting the same letters.

I wish you could be able to come here and help us with DA but with you being in a similar organization you probably have a lot on your mind as it is.

Being in Egypt has its perks as the tension isn’t as bad as here I believe, but I know I would lose my mind not being here to help and to constantly think about how my family is.

Your number one supporter for you to come home,

Theodora

[ginemrys]

dozens of colours of thread

read on AO3

TW: this oneshot mentions suicidal thoughts and goes deep into depression. also brief mentions of parents being ill/dying

Everyone had noticed it, had noticed that James Potter was acting weirdly. He took long walks alone at night, walks that usually led him up to the Astronomy Tower.

WC: 2600

---

The dregs of sadness had started simmering at the end of his fifth year, after he had completely destroyed someone else’s life thanks to his own stupid arrogance. He’d spent most of that summer sulking silently while also trying to hide how he felt from Sirius, who had it a lot worse than him. He’d tried to stay positive for his friend, who had been disowned by his abusive family and moved in with James, because Sirius needed positivity around him.

Sixth year had been rough. The looming war was growing ever closer, tensions were high behind the castle walls. Mary MacDonald had been attacked, as had countless other Gryffindors and muggleborns. Then Sirius had told Snape, told him where to go to find Remus in his werewolf form. James and Snape had both almost died because of what Sirius had done. For weeks it had seemed like James and Remus were finished with Sirius, their conjoined fury pushing him away. It hadn’t been until Lily Evans had spoken to James in a way she’d never done so before, told him to forgive Sirius, told him how much the man he usually called brother was hurting, that James spoke to him again.

Even though Lily had somehow become his friend, James still felt the sadness. Because friendship was all they could ever have. Snape was lurking around what seemed to be every corner when the two of them were together, even if there were others around them. James had been hit with many a curse, his skin needing to be knotted back together thanks to Snape’s horrific dark magic. It was the year that he spent the most time in the hospital wing.

Then came the summer again along with a heavy letter and an even heavier Head Boy badge. Sirius had sworn hands down that it was some kind of mistake and that the badge was meant for Remus. James had even considered writing to Dumbledore to ask if he’d messed something up, but he also knew that the old wizard had an odd sense of humour. So instead he wrote to Lily, telling her that he had received the badge. She’d written back, which helped to alleviate the sadness for a short time as his eyes roamed over her words. She’d also gotten a badge, they’d be working together as Head Boy and Girl, and she also said that she was excited about it, that he would be a good Head Boy. James had smiled at that, smiled until he saw the ‘ your friend ’ as the bottom of the letter. That’s all he would ever be.

Being responsible was difficult with Sirius as his best friend. Because Sirius always wanted to pull some kind of prank or hex some Slytherins. But James couldn’t do that any longer. Seventh year was the first year that James hadn’t received a detention within the first month of being at the school. The sadness was worse now, his parents had caught some rare illness, dragon pox the healers had called it, and so were mostly bedridden. James did his school work on time, patrolled the corridors with Lily, removed points and dished out detentions.

Everyone had noticed it, had noticed that James Potter was acting weirdly. He took long walks alone at night, walks that usually led him up to the Astronomy Tower. He’d stand with his bare toes curling over the edge, a small, minuscule wondering in the back of his mind, how bad could it really be if he let himself fall?

Lily kept smiling at him. She kept finding ways to touch him, whether it be a brush of her hand against his arm or a ruffle of his hair. It confused James to no end. Her smile was always so bright, so beautiful. It was a smile that seemed to be reserved for him, and him alone. But it was also a smile he couldn’t feel he could return, because of the sadness.

James kept the sadness at bay as best as possible around other people, he tried to stay happy, to stay the same positive man he always had been. But it was even harder when Dumbledore asked him to join the Order of the Phoenix, because even though he had said yes before the headmaster could even finish asking, the fear of death still rose up in him.

It was winter before he told anyone. He found himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower once again, his toes frozen in the ice cold air. Not that he noticed the cold. He didn’t realise he was crying until he started sniffing, his sleeve wiping at the tears on his cheeks. He nearly lost his balance and fell when she spoke.

“James? What’s going on with you lately?”

He turned to see her there, her worry for him clear as day on her face. She looked scared, her hand halfway outstretched like she was about to try and grab at his shirt and pull him away from the edge. James suddenly realised what this looked like, what it was. So he stepped away from the ledge, moving back towards sturdier ground.

“Evans… Um… Nothing, I’m okay.” He avoided her eye, staring down at his bare feet.

“Merlin, you look frozen…” Lily whispered, taking a step closer to him. “Why didn’t you wear more layers, James? And shoes?”

“I’m okay.” He repeated.

“No, no you’re not.” She shook her head, taking another step towards him that almost forced him to look at her. “You’re not okay, James, and you haven’t been for a while.”

His lip trembled as he stumbled back, only stopping when he felt the wall behind him. He slid to the ground, his knees tucked against his chest. “How did you find me?” He asked softly, his hands in his hair.

“Well, Remus told me you sneak out of your dormitory most nights, and you seemed so down today I was worried about you.” Lily said, moving to sit next to him. She didn’t sit too close, leaving a couple of inches between them. “You didn’t even see me in the common room as you walked out, so I waited a little while then followed you. It wasn’t like I performed some really difficult magic to scout you out.”

“Right.” James said, rubbing his face with one of his hands. “Well, sorry for worrying you, Evans. But I’m fine, I just like getting some air.”

“Don’t lie to me, James Potter.” Lily snapped, making him start. “You were crying in here before I said anything and you looked like you were going to-”

“Maybe I was.” He interrupted, looking at her. “Maybe I was going to, because everything is so shit right now and maybe I would be better off for it.”

Lily blinked at him, and James could see how deeply his words had affected her. Her eyes welled up, her hands shaking a little where they rested in her lap. “Don’t.” She said after a long pause. “Don’t you dare. You mean too much, James. To everyone around you, to your friends, your family, to me.”

James swallowed deeply then, his hazel eyes widening beneath the wire frames of his glasses. What could she mean? She hated him, sure they’d been getting on better recently, they worked well together and joked together. But she hated him. He meant nothing to her.

Her hand touched his, and she winced. “You’re like ice.” She whispered and soon enough there was a small blue fire burning away in front of them, warmth spreading through his bones. Lily pulled off her jumper and with another flick of her wand it became a blanket. She tried to spread it over both of them, but it wasn’t quite big enough. So Lily shifted closer, their hips meeting and their thighs pressing together.

As numb as James felt in that moment, he had to admit that her body heat felt nice by his, her warmth seeping into his skin. Before he could help it, a tiny sigh of relief escaped him as his fingers started to thaw out beneath the blanket. She must have placed a warming charm on it.

“Talk to me.” Lily said, her voice cutting through the silence after a few short moments.

“I’m just having a rough-” He cut himself off before he could finish, shaking his head. “No… I was going to say month but… Actually, despite what everyone thinks and says, I’ve had a rough few years. But you can stop worrying, Evans.”

“No, I won’t. Because this isn’t you , James.” She spoke up again, her hand finding his beneath the blanket. He kept his eyes fixed on the stone floor in front of him, knowing that if he met her gaze he would never be able to look away. “Sirius told me about your parents, told me everything. He said that you wouldn’t mind if I knew, I hope he was right. My dad- Remember he died, James?”

He looked at her then, his eyes snapping to meet hers. Of course he remembered. She’d raced out of the Great Hall during spring of their fifth year, tears streaming down her face. She’d been gone for a week and for the first time ever Lily Evans had been behind on her homework.

“I know about wanting to keep things private, I know about wanting to pretend everything is fine in front of others before finding a spot to cry in.” Another memory stirred, one of James seeing Lily’s name alone in a classroom on the map, of him seeking her out. Of her telling him to go away before crying against his chest as he held her. Only a few months after that she’d screamed at him after he had been the cause of her biggest heartbreak. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you.”

“Because it’s not just my parents being ill, Evans. It’s everything.” James finally admitted, unsure of whether it was just to her or to himself as well. “Because I know that for years I’ve been everything that would disappoint them, that I’ve hurt people, people I care about a great deal.” He might have imagined it, but her cheeks seemed to turn a little pink at that. “Because there’s arseholes out there that hate people like you, just because of who you are, that no matter what I say or do there’s nothing that can stop them. Because I want to protect muggleborns, protect my friends, protect my family. But at the end of the day I’m just a seventeen year old kid that can do a little transfiguration and can duel. And ride a broom.”

“You’re more than that.” Lily said when he stopped to draw a breath. His words had tumbled out of his mouth after so long of keeping them trapped behind a smile. “James, you’re an incredibly talented wizard. Magic comes so easy to you, I’ve seen you in class. You don’t even need to make notes, you just figure it out so quickly. You’re kind, you’re smart. Sure you’re a little hotheaded and arrogant at times, but you make up for it in the way you treat your friends.” The hand that wasn’t holding his had moved to his cheek, making James’ heart lurch up into his throat. “You care so deeply, I was too stubborn before to see it. It’s shown in the way you ruffle up Remus’ hair when he’s looking peaky, when you help Peter with a spell. When you comfort Sirius after he sees his brother with the Death Eaters.”

“Have you been watching me, Evans?”

“Yes, I have actually. Because you’ve been worrying me for a while, and because you’re my friend. More than that really.” She definitely blushed that time. “Your grief is warranted, your sadness and your doubts are completely valid. But they’re not all that you are. You’re a great man, James Potter, not just a star chaser that can non-verbally transfigure a desk into a pig. “You’re a good friend, a trustworthy one, and Merlin, anyone who has any sense loves you.”

James blinked at her a few times, drinking everything she said in, the fog in his brain starting to disappear at the same rate that the warmth was seeping back into his skin. Maybe she was right, maybe he was more than that.

“I’m not saying you have to wake up tomorrow morning and be happy.” Lily continued, apparently not noticing the effect her words were having on him. “I’m just saying that you have people who care about you, who want to help, who want to burden some of the weight on your shou-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence, her words cut off by James’ lips pressing against her own. His hand dropped hers as he moved to cup her face with each of his hands, pulling her lips to his. He didn’t know what had given him the nerve to do it, maybe the Gryffindor in him had reared its head finally. She was still for a second, her lips frozen against his.

Just as he was doubting his decision, she responded. She moved, her hands sliding up to rest on his chest, fingers clutching at his shirt. She leaned into him, pushing herself up and into his kiss. While James had been attempting to keep the kiss sweet, feeling Lily respond so eagerly set him ablaze.

Though the tips of his fingers were icy on her face, James felt like he was burning up with heat. His tongue slipped along her lower lip, prompting her to open for him, their mouths meeting again and again in a delicious slide of lips and tongue pressing together. One of her hands reached up to his hair, tugging on his soft black curls. James moaned at the feeling, a hand of his own dropping to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

A small whimper escaped Lily’s lips when he moved away, her lips red, her eyes blown. They were both breathing heavily, their cheeks were flushed.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that for ages.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years. Wait, how long is ages?”

Lily’s face somehow got even redder as she looked at him, the tongue that had just been in his mouth darting out to wet her lips.

“Since last year, after the Quidditch final.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. You made me wait, Potter.”

“It won’t happen again.”

Whichever one of them leaned in first, James couldn’t tell. But all he knew was that Lily’s hands were back in hair after she had climbed onto his lap, knocking the blanket away to get closer to him. Her mouth was working on his neck before he managed to say it.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Lily asked between kisses. “For snogging you? Because for that you’re very welcome.”

James grunted when she bit down on his neck softly, his head leaning against the stone wall behind him.

“For saving me. Every night, I was a little closer.” He whispered, his words drawing Lily away from his neck, her green eyes meeting his hazel ones again. “I was so cold for so long, Evans, numb to it all. But you, you came in here with those blazing eyes and your kind soul. And now I’m warm again, I can feel. I’m not completely whole again just yet, but even now, I’m being stitched back together.”

“Then let me keep threading the needle.”

[min-sugar-7]

DAY 4: “What are you hiding, Merlin?” + Fun

    Merlin clenched his fist, hiding it behind his back. He stood, silently fuming, as Agravaine continued prodding Arthur’s feelings, manipulating them. Merlin sent silent glares towards Agravaine as Arthur let his uncle manipulate him.

    How dare Agravaine doubt Arthur’s rule? Arthur is a better man than he will ever be, that lying, gold-digging, backstabbing bastard. He is using Arthur’s father against him- making Arthur doubt his self-worth.

    Agravaine finally met his eyes over Arthur's shoulder, freezing. Merlin glared harder. Arthur followed Agravaine’s eyes and turned back. Merlin schooled his expression and morphed it into a bored one. All he had to do was think of the grain reports that they discussed at the beginning of the meeting.

    Tomorrow, Agravaine would enter the council room with a black eye and a limp. He would explain how an old man ambushed him on the stairs, punching him and sending him toppling down.

    Merlin silently chuckled. Arthur’s back was in a tense line, clearly not believing the story. Little did he know, the story was one hundred percent true. Arthur looked like he was trying not to smile, asking Agravaine to describe his old assaulter.

    Merlin denied having anything to do with the encounter. Arthur gave him a disbelieving look but let the matter drop. It could have been anyone. It’s not like Merlin’s the only one that can turn into an old man. Morgana’s almost mastered it too. So who knows what exactly happened?

...

    While Merlin’s and Morgana’s magic remained a secret to the court, he knew that Arthur had already started drafting and revising the magic ban. Agravaine just had to find it, which led to him questioning Arthur’s morale.

    He used the oldest trick in the book: bringing up Arthur’s parents. Merlin was already drafting his next attack.

    Merlin muttered a single spell, one that he had found hidden in the library. The Goblin’s section (as he’s come to call it) was a door to endless possibilities. It contained books on everything from dark magic to light, protective spells to offensive enchantments, and the best of them all: pranks.

    Agravaine was in for a treat.

    Not an hour later, Agravaine pounded Arthur’s door, almost knocking it down. He dragged Arthur, and by extension, Merlin, to his room, all the while spouting nonsense about how his furniture was stuck to the ceiling.

    “Uncle,” Arthur began, “I see no problem here.”

    All three men stared at the perfectly normal and appropriately placed furniture. Agravaine gaped like a fish. Merlin pinched his own arm to keep from laughing.

    “Perhaps a visit to Gaius, my lord?” Merlin perked in. Arthur didn’t turn around. Agravaine shot him a dirty look.

    “There will be no need for that. Good night, Arthur,” Agravaine bit back, embarrassed. He strode into his room, slamming the door behind him.

    “Wonder what that was about,” Arthur said, barely concealing his amused look. Merlin simply shrugged.

    Merlin once again stood behind Arthur, silently fuming. It wasn’t directed to Agravaine this time.

...

    Instead, it was Prince Karl, visiting Prince from the North. What started as a night of friendly fun and talk dissolved into very unfriendly jabs and gloats.

    Prince Karl had no sense of manners. He dared to compare Arthur’s rule to Uther’s, calling him soft. Arthur was not soft. Arthur is a fierce warrior, honorable Knight, and a renowned King, adored and respected by all.

    Well, perhaps Arthur was a bit soft, but in an honorable way. He is righteous and just; sentencing punishments that fit the crime. Arthur is fair and compassionate when the occasion calls for it. Arthur is Merlin’s King, the only one he will ever serve, ever love.

    Merlin sunk back into the shadows, blending in with the darkness. He let his magic take over, looking straight at Karl. An obnoxiously loud burp left the Prince’s mouth. And then another.

    Morgana turned back, as if she knew, and caught Merlin’s eyes. He couldn’t get rid of the evidence fast enough. A knowing look crossed her face.

    She smirked and turned back, lips moving in a silent spell. Her eyes flashed gold, but nothing happened. She caught Merlin's eyes again and winked.

    Prince Karl excused himself later that night, saying he was required back in his kingdom, immediately. He didn’t make it far into the courtyard before his hood got knocked off, revealing a flashy mop of pink hair. He hurried into his carriage, but the damage was already done.

    Merlin passed Morgana in the hallway, giving her a nod and a high-five. It wasn’t long before the two dissolved into laughter, clutching each other for support, trying and failing to look cool.

...

    “What are you hiding, Merlin?” said Arthur’s voice from behind him. Merlin jumped and, in a moment of panic, magicked away his beautiful work of art. Dammit.

    “Fuck- Nothing!” Merlin turned around. A glance in the armory told him that his spectacular self-sabotaging crossbow wasn’t magicked into the abyss. It was hanging from the ceiling. How the hell is it still hanging on?

    Arthur raised his eyebrow, seeing through Merlin’s lie.

    Merlin shrugged and stepped aside, presenting the empty table. A bit too empty. Very empty. It seemed like Merlin had magicked Arthur’s swords along with the bow. Merlin trailed his eyes towards the crossbow, but Arthur’s other weapons were nowhere to be seen.

    Arthur, on the other hand, let out a long-suffering sigh, following Merlin’s line of sight. He eyed the crossbow hanging from the ceiling with an exasperated look.

    “Context, please?” Arthur asked, all straight-faced and unamused. Merlin swallowed nervously, his mind racing with excuses he could use. “The truth, if you will,” Arthur added.

    Merlin sighed, resigned. “Well, as you can see, it is a crossbow.” Arthur gave him a pointed look. “A crossbow that backfires on the fifth shot.”

    “Why would it do that, Merlin?”

    “To make it look like an accident.”

    Arthur placed his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation. Merlin refused to give in. Arthur finally barked out, “Why?”

    Merlin pursed his lips together, nodding. “Well, Lord Marco called you unfit to rule because you knighted commoners and then invited you out for a hunt, so I thought it was a great opportunity. Since knighting commoners was the best thing you’ve done. Not because he insulted you, obviously.”

    Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his face afterward. “What will I ever do with you?” he asked, and Merlin tried not to feel offended.

    “Well, you can start with helping me get that crossbow down-”

    Arthur interrupted him with a chuckle, which then turned into full-blown laughter. “Agravaine? That was you, wasn’t it? Also, Lady Annabel and her feathers! Oh, and Prince Karl and his pink hair. And Sir Laurve’s flimsy sword!”

    Merlin ducked his head, feeling his face heat up. “Prince Karl was Morgana,” he protested.

    “Should have known,” Arthur said, voice laced with delight? When Merlin looked up, he did not recall being this close to Arthur. He still had a stupid grin plastered on his face.

    “Um- Well, they had it coming!” Merlin frowned. “Being a prat is no excuse for them to insult the King-”

    “And you’re allowed to?” Merlin didn’t get to answer because the next thing he knew, there were soft lips pressed against his. All that he could think of was the fact that Arthur’s pressing his lips against his, kissing him-

    Arthur’s kissing him. Oh, Gods, Arthur’s kissing him.

    Soon the initial shock wore off, and Merlin remembered that kissing is a two-way street. Merlin brought his hand up to thread it through Arthur’s hair, marveling at its silky texture.

    Arthur broke off the kiss sooner than deemed acceptable, according to Merlin. So Merlin pulled Arthur into another kiss, letting it drag a bit longer.

    “God, you’re like an angry adorable cat,” Arthur mumbled against Merlin’s lips, providing no further explanation. Merlin snapped out of his post-kissing cloudy haze, realizing that Arthur’s tormenting him again.

    “I am not adorable. I am the greatest warlock to ever-”

    “See?” Arthur cut off, “adorable.” Arthur pulled back far enough to boop Merlin’s nose. “Now, promise that you won’t kill nobles? I don’t pay them much mind, you know?”

    Merlin was about to say yes because he can’t deny Arthur anything right after he managed to compliment and insult Merlin in the same sentence. No matter what he says, Merlin is not adorable. And Arthur should not have to go through such treatment from other nobles. He deserves better.

    “Fine,” Merlin conceited. Arthur never said that he couldn’t injure them. Plus, Morgana has promised no such thing, and Agravaine is still strutting around the castle, acting like he owns the place…

    Whatever happens, Merlin can confidently say that Agravaine had it coming.

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - Trollhunters/3Below | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count:  1,445

Warnings: swearing i think?

A/N:  Last chapter before we’re back to wizards

Tags: @furblrwurblr​ @rainningdoom​ @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458​ @sitherin-mxschief

Back | Next

--

Jim Lake Jr.’s mom was really familiar.

Fortunately, she didn’t recognize you, even as you studied under her at the hospital and watched out for her son in your free time.

Protecting the Trollhunter was something you had stumbled into.

After your return from a place you’d rather not think about ever again, you found Arcadia.  A safe little town in California where you could hide for the time being.

Then the trolls found you.

It wasn’t your fault that you’d nearly killed Blinky.  He snuck up on you, and you were very jumpy.  Fortunately, you’d figured out that you weren’t under attack before you could do any real damage.  It wasn’t too long after that when you found out your new mentor’s son was the Trollhunter, protector of trollkind and slayer of Gumm-Gumms, wielder of the amulet created by your first mentor, Merlin.

This kid was in way over his head.  

You had to protect him.

So, you helped to teach him how to use a sword, how to fight and how to survive.  You helped his friend, Toby, to throw a decent punch and knock out a human opponent with pressure points.  You were a cool older sibling who they could talk to about the stress of the job.  And girls.  

When Claire joined the party, you helped her practice magic.  You helped her learn to control it. 

You were quite the gang.  One immortal, who everyone believed to be a college student, and three high schoolers in charge of kicking the darkness back to whence it came.  

You protected those kids and their troll dads.  You made excuses, forged notes, fought off Mr. Strickler, the whole nine yards.  Somehow, you’d avoided sharing your past with the prying teens.  They didn’t know you’d once been a Gumm-Gumm spy.  You were just a cool mage who hung around for fun.

That all came crashing down when Bular crawled out of the woodwork, revealed your identity, almost killed your friends, and got you in a chokehold for a solid two minutes.

Centuries of work were finally paying off, he would, at last, have his revenge!  He would regain his honour after being so shamefully defeated the last time he fought you.

Then Jim killed him.  Rip.  

You got your old sword back though.  That was nice.

The trollhunter may have saved your life and given you your sword back, but the damage was done.  You all avoided each other after that.

That was a lie, you were still looking out for these damn kids.  You owed it to Barbara, who had grown up to be a fantastic doctor and who still had a few plastic bones in a box in the attic.  She had been so kind and welcoming to you, you had to make sure her son came home every day.  It was a difficult task when said son was all too willing to yeet himself into the Darklands, but you managed for the most part.

And when you heard a voice that followed you for centuries talking to your kids, it was the Darklands all over again.  There was nothing you could do but watch.

You could have laughed at how much Jim hated Douxie.  The kid had no idea he was telling a centuries-old wizard to go back to where he came from.  You kept your eye on the conversation, waiting until it ended.  Then, with no other choice available to you, you followed after the wizard.

How Douxie had built himself a life in Arcadia without you knowing was incredible and you respected the hell out of him for it.  But you didn’t know if you loved it.  

You followed behind him, silent as the night.  And then you realised just what was happening.  You stopped and went home after that.

And when you got there you screamed.

You screamed, and threw a sword at the wall, and broke several plates because this wasn’t supposed to happen.  You weren’t supposed to see him again.  Now he was in danger, and it was your fault.

You didn’t leave your house for a few days.

Then the teachers at Jim’s school went nuts, and you figured you should get back in the field.  

You’d been monitoring Claire’s sudden illness from afar when he showed up again, this time a waiter at whatever restaurant this was.  At some point, Claire left, and came back, and was acting... weird.  Something was very wrong.

But that didn’t matter because there he was again.  It was like you couldn’t escape him.

It was an active struggle to keep yourself away.  Literally, an active struggle.

You’d tried to put it out of your mind, but the more you saw him, the more you remembered.  The things that took you hadn’t only tortured you, trying to turn you into their full-time servant, but they’d also put some kind of spell or curse on you.

It was after the third one left if you remembered correctly.  The remaining duo had been so angry, specifically at Merlin for some reason, so they put some kind of curse on you, forcing you to make attempts on Douxie’s life whenever he was in your general vicinity.  

Why they went after Douxie instead of Merlin himself you’d never know.  The wizard was an easier target while he slept, but nope.  They went for Douxie.

You were confused, angry, and hurt.  At both parties.  You had been tortured for ten years.  Had he not felt any of it?  Had he not cared enough to help you?  Or even stop your pain which he must’ve been feeling?  It felt like a betrayal of sorts.  He kissed you and then didn’t come for you when you were in danger.  Was that all he wanted?  

Even though you were upset by your apparent abandonment, you didn’t want Douxie dead.  This wasn’t the twelfth century anymore, and you had to admit to yourself, you were still in love with him.  You weren’t going to kill him.

So you clung to the roof, even after Douxie had left for the night.  You stayed in place until the sun rose, struggling not to go after him.  Eventually, you let go, moving on with your day, avoiding Hisirdoux Casperan to the best of your ability.

You actually did a decent job until the Eternal Night.

It was a pretty nasty battle, but you were handling it pretty well.

Or you were until you got yourself backed into a corner by yet another Gumm-Gumm calling you a traitor, probably facing certain death when someone struck the thing with a guitar.

“Casperan!?”

“(Y/N)!?  What are you doing here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, crawling to your feet, trying to keep yourself from throwing the sword in your hand at Douxie’s head.

“I- you’re right.  Are you okay?”

“No, I-” your voice broke and you backed away further, “I’m not.  Get away from me,”

You ran before you could see the pain leak into Douxie’s eyes before you could see the heartbreak on his face.

Ten minutes later the fight was finished.

A little after that, Jim and Claire were off to New Jersey.

You stayed behind.

Why did you do that?  You asked yourself the same question.  Staying in Arcadia put Douxie in danger and forced you into close proximity with the man who’d left you for dead.  

But still, you stayed.

Maybe it was to protect Toby and Arrrgh, maybe it was because you liked your small apartment, maybe it was because you knew there was more trouble on the horizon.  Or maybe it was because you were still in love with that stupid wizard.

You lost a lot of sleep over it.  You saw his face in your sleep, thought of him when you practiced medicine.  Every time you woke up from a war-related nightmare, you remembered how comforting his presence was.  You remembered every hug he’d ever given you, the jokes he made, and that kiss.  You remembered that kiss.

All you had was memories because if you even looked at his face, you’d kill him.

You did your best to distract yourself.  You teamed up with Toby, Arrrgh, Steve, Eli and the Akiridions to stop an alien threat.  It still wasn’t enough.

And when the alien threat was gone, you felt pain all over your body.  It didn’t belong to you.  You weren’t too alarmed, usually, torture was worse than this, but it kinda felt like Douxie had been dragged down the street by something for six(teen) blocks.

You were about to mention it when your posse ran into a familiar familiar.

“Beware!  You, you!  Are in grave danger!”

“Archie?”

[sergeantsporks]

Swapped

Ch 4/5

Ao3

Or read under the cut

The year did not pass in a flash, even after he got a job at a little cafe. The year passed agonizingly slowly, with one dull moment after another, while in the meantime, Zoe came back with story after story of exciting goings-on at Hextech.

Well. Not every moment was dull. Sometimes the moments were painfully embarrassing as he would be called up to the board to attempt something he didn’t know how to do, or would be handed back yet another assignment with a ridiculous amount of red ink scrawled on it.

The teachers seemed to be catching on that he knew absolutely nothing, and had one of two reactions; one of them was to simply leave him alone and not embarrass him further, and the other was to attempt to help him learn by calling on him more often.

At least once the students accepted that he was dumb as dirt when it came to school, they liked him fine. A lot of them were incredibly confused about how he could possibly be so bad at school and then be socially competent. He tried to steer clear of them.

Douxie Casperan, please report to the counselor’s office.

Uh-oh. That did not sound good.

Aaaaand yep, the whispers started up, following him down to the counselor’s little room. Really, it wasn’t THAT hard to figure out why he was being called out. He sat down in a chair, his report card facing him with a line of F’s and D’s. Oh, and one A+ in history. He could do that, at least, having lived through most of it.

“Douxie,” the guidance counselor started.

“Yep, I know, I’m a horrendous student with horrendous grades, I need to take school seriously and apply myself. I know all that.”

“You’re a smart kid, Douxie. Your history grades prove that you can do well. And the teachers all say that you’re trying. It just seems like… you’re missing a lot of other information.”

Uh-oh. She was a little too smart. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you don’t seem to struggle in Calculus because you don’t understand calculus—it’s like you struggle because you never learned algebra, so the background isn’t there. It seems like no one ever taught you basic essay-writing skills, so you can’t write an essay, despite seeming to understand analyzing literature fairly well.”

Douxie nodded along as she spoke, but his attention was caught on something outside the window. Something very shiny, and glowing blue.

Trollhunter. The amulet. That bar girl had been right. And the trollhunter was… wandering around in broad daylight. A human?!

“Douxie?”

Douxie put his hands down on the desk. “You’re right, I never took algebra, also I’m nineteen so I don’t technically have to be here, bye!”

He ran out the door, grabbed his bag, and left school forever. He didn’t find the trollhunter, but that didn’t matter. No more calculus. No more counselors and school. The human trollhunter had arrived.

According to the instructions Merlin had left behind for his apprentice, that meant Merlin couldn’t be far behind.

Xxx

Douxie read Merlin’s instructions. Then he read them again. And one more time just to be sure. The old wizard hadn’t left behind anything specific. Only that there would be a human trollhunter, and he would be the one to wake Merlin. And that Douxie was to stay out of it. No handy dates, or a “meet up here!” note, besides a vague bunch of instructions about opening up a bookshop.

“Don’t stress too much over it,” Archie advised him, “He’s Merlin. He’ll contact us when he’s ready, I expect.”

“I don’t want—” Douxie bit down on his tongue. He couldn’t exactly tell Archie about his mission. “I don’t want to wait that long. What if he’s forgotten about us?”

“Merlin never forgets a detail. It’s his thing.”

“I know, I just…”

“Douxie. It’s okay. He’ll be here. Just… be patient.”

Douxie swept the pages of instructions off of the Hextech help counter. “I’ve been patient!” he shouted, “I’ve waited for nine-hundred years, and he can’t even bother to give me a place to check?!”

The door swung open, and Zoe took in the scene. “Oh, boy. Don’t tell me Mr. Arthurian legend is going to be here soon.”

“Well, the problem is,” Douxie growled, “I don’t know!”

Zoe delicately picked up the written instructions, scanning through them. “Right. Well, if you’re really so determined to wait around for this guy—”

“I am!”

“Then I suggest you open that bookstore he’s got set up. If he’s going to meet you anywhere, it’ll probably be there.” Zoe took his hand. “Douxie, can I talk to you? Alone?”

Douxie let her lead him outside, where she dropped his hand. “Why do you need Merlin?” she asked simply.

“What?”

“You heard me. Why do you need him? Why are you so determined to meet back up with this guy that abandoned you for nine-hundred years?”

“I—there’s still so much I don’t know about magic. And I’m not a master wizard yet, I—”

“Why do you need to be a master wizard? Why do you need Merlin? You’ve been doing just fine without him, or some master wizard title for so long! With just you, me, and Archie! What do you need some crusty old guy to tell you?!”

Well, being a master wizard had been the other Hisirdoux’s plan. But… why was he still holding onto some mission? One that he hadn’t needed to do for nine-hundred years? No. That kind of thinking was out of line. He needed to do this. For his parents, if he couldn’t do it for the pale lady. “I… I just need it.”

“But why?!” Zoe half-screamed, “What’s so important about it?!” She grabbed his hand again. “We don’t have to open the bookshop! We don’t know when or if Merlin will wake up! We can go anywhere, do anything—just like we did before you saw the human trollhunter! You can work here, at Hextech, the wizards here are so varied, you can learn whatever magic you want from them—some of them probably even know things that Merlin doesn’t! Just forget about Merlin and his instructions! How can you feel so attached to him still—you’ve spent nine-hundred years with Archie and I, isn’t that more real than any old apprenticeship that you haven’t been a part of for centuries?”

“I’m opening the bookshop,” Douxie growled, “I’m waiting for Merlin.”

Zoe threw her hands up in the air. “Fine! Fine, you open your bookshop, and wait for your stupid master! I’m staying here at Hextech!” She ran a hand through her bangs. “Gah, Douxie! I love you, but you need to learn to let go of some things, okay? Just… think about it. Give it a few days before you open up that bookshelf. Figure out what you really want, not what you wanted nine-hundred years ago and have been holding onto ever since.” She went back inside, the door slamming behind her.

What he really wanted.

He had a mission. A purpose. Right?

Well, what did he care what the Pale Lady wanted? She hadn’t been seen for centuries, just like Merlin. She’d just left behind cryptic instructions, just like Merlin.

But his parents—he couldn’t just abandon them. And if he was on the winning side of this war, if he kept on Gunmar’s side and delivered the information about Merlin’s plans—if he ever woke up—maybe, just maybe, he could make sure that Zoe and Archie wouldn’t get hurt. That there would be a place next to him for them.

Who was he kidding? They’d never agree to that. He couldn’t have a Gum-Gum victory and his new friends. There had to be something else—a way to get his parents back and protect Zoe and Archie and not lose their friendship.

He had to figure out a way.

In the meantime, he opened up the bookshop.

He kept monster hunting with Zoe and Archie.

He kept working at the café.

All the while, more and more of his skin was turning to stone, blue stone lines meeting pink flesh where Something Had Happened to Hisirdoux, but WHY?! So he kept covering up more and more skin, wearing long sleeves and pants even in the heat, much to Zoe and Archie’s amusement.

And he kept running through plans. But they always came down to choosing between his parents or Zoe and Archie. Volunteer enough information to get his parents out of the Darklands, Zoe and Archie hated him. But he couldn’t just leave them stuck there!

Then there was the problem of… well, explaining what he was. Could he ever tell Zoe and Archie the truth? If he rescued his parents, it would come out eventually, wouldn’t it? But he couldn’t just leave them stuck there!

He was set in autopilot, going through the motions of his day while his brain continuously raced to figure out the paradox of How to Not Lose Anyone.

And then he wandered right into a web of dark magic at work. He almost stopped dead in his tracks before forcing himself to continue walking and acting like nothing was wrong. The human trollhunter. Jim. He’d tried to get in closer a few weeks ago, shown up at the school, handed out flyers for the Battle of the Bands. Talked to Jim’s friends. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but the trollhunter was glaring at him.

That magic, though. It wasn’t coming from the trollhunter. It was coming from… Claire. No surprise, she was the shadow magician, but… this felt… different.

And then a voice spoke in his head, slithering and cold.

Stay out of it.

Douxie blinked. Had he just-?

I am your queen, your creator, Morgana, Baba Yaga, the Pale Lady, and I am ordering you to not interfere. The girl is mine.

Douxie gulped. Right. This was happening. Okay. Fine.

Act as though nothing has happened. Your cover is necessary—Merlin may soon return.

Douxie steeled himself and took their orders—he wasn’t quite sure how to tell her, but Morgana wasn’t exactly… doing the best job fitting in. And the whole time, his mind spun and reeled. Had Morgana read his mind all along? Did she know everything he’d struggled with?

Well, don’t think about it now, he told himself, shaking his head.

Should Merlin return, Gunmar awaits in trollmarket. I will guide you to him, my special wizard. Soon, you will no longer have to pretend. You will be free to be yourself.

Morgana’s presence faded from his mind as Claire and Jim left, and Douxie shivered, rubbing his arms.

What if I’m not sure who “myself” is anymore?

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Pregnant s/o (Rsat7d)

Merlin

Bless this idiot, it’s going to take him a minute to understand what his s/o has said. S/o will be in the living room curled up with a book or working in their office with a couple of nerves after having told a seemingly indifferent Merlin the news. Then they hear quickly approaching footsteps. And a slamming door. “You’re pregnant?!”

It’s 4:00pm. They told this moron first thing in the morning. Telling him anything when he’s in the library is pointless. 

He’s trying very cool to stay calm about this and seem enthused. Really, he is. It’s just all his anxieties and insecurities he pretends to not have are suddenly at his throat. He hasn’t a clue what to do. Send help.

All of the nervous maniac energy composing Merlin is transferred into a transformation none of the F7 thought they’d live to witness. The young, reckless lightning idiot becoming a responsible adult. Who mother hens people. And reminds them about medication. And food. And gets them to sit down while he takes care of everything for them. Hans is proud, the others are concerned. 

Some of this new-found need to mother-hen in a valid attempt to avoid overthinking whether or not he will be a good father is used to come up with useful spells. By first trimester’s end s/o has a small stack of spells to use when needed. The “cold pad” and “hot pad” spells are wonderful. The usefulness of the “vomit into a portable void” spell is debatable.

Jokes aside Merlin is worried about being a good father. This is a man with a lot of insecurities who worries about his own self worth- the idea that his child could dislike him haunts him. A lot of comfort is needed to chase away this fear. 

He is very protective about them and will deal with any threat with lightning. The house spiders quake in fear.

Arthur

His s/o could tell him at multiple points for many awesome reactions, but the best way is if they tell him in the middle of training. His standard “showing off because bae is watching” show is cut short as Arthur’s eyes widen. His sword, Excalibur, hits the ground with a thud. Next thing s/o knows, they’re in the air being spun in a straight-out-of-Disney twirl by an excited Arthur. 

All of F7 knows by day’s end. He’s telling everybody with a massive grin on his face and 0 shame. 

Arthur is a family man waiting to happen. Pull this idea out of my dead hands if you want, but you cannot convince me that this man hasn’t dreamt of having a loving partner and some tinies to spoil rotten with stories. He’s either been waiting to bring up the idea with them or the s/o is well-aware. 

Every single tiny milestone is met by the sweet puppy Arthur embodies. He’s just so happy and supportive, it’s kind of adorable. His s/o mentions the baby kicking their bladder and suddenly there’s a prince up against their belly desperately wanting to feel the baby kick too. 

One thing s/o is going to have to watch out for is expectations. Arthur’s parents seemed to have had a lot of those for him, and he’s probably internalized a lot of them too. It’s going to have to be up to his s/o to remind them that putting that many expectations on any person is a bad thing. The baby is going to be awesome. But let them be awesome on their own terms. 

Wants to carry them everywhere when their feet start to hurt. What if they get hurt going up the stairs? He’s strong, let him carry them for a bit dang it!

Jack

Jack is really a wild card here. Personally I see him being really connected to his own family, being a self-made prince who has worked hard to make sure his living family lives comfortably. On the other hand, this is a baby. A new person. That’s half him and half s/o. Wow. Wow.

Drops anything he is holding. Stunned still. It’s taking all of his processing power to debate the aforementioned two points on his conflicting views. S/o is going to be able to wave a hand in front of his eyes and have no response.

Make some tea. Read a book. Give him a hot minute to think. 

Out of the princes (besides Hans) Jack is going to be one of the few to really sit down with s/o and talk about what this means for them. He wants the kid, no worries there, but having a kid is a huge undertaking for anyone. How do they want to raise the child? Where (if his s/o is royalty too for example, which kingdom should they raise them in?) should they set up their life? Is Jack 2 an acceptable name? Is any jewel-related name acceptable? 

Jack’s s/o wins the pregnancy lotto in terms of access to feel-good supplies. Jack, the man, the prince, has facial masks in what appears to be a medieval-renaissance-inspired fantasy realm. From France. How he achieved this is a damned mystery. His whole bathroom is probably lined with the nicest creams and moisturizers money can buy. Jack’s not going to let his partner who is pregnant skip out on self-care. Absolutely not.

Jack is surprisingly good with helping his partner out emotionally at this time. He recognizes feelings and responds pretty well to them, so during the pregnancy and afterwards he is very supportive to their emotional needs. This is a very happy, but intense time and he is 100% there for them, through every high and every low.

Hans

Do not - I repeat - do not tell him when he is in the kitchen. Anything he’s cooking is going to burn, get stuck to the ceiling or is otherwise rendered inedible. Actually, any of those cute “bun in the oven” related announcements are not going to work on him. He’s going to be more upset at the concept of someone not cleaning his oven or risking burning a perfectly innocent loaf than anything else.  

He does, eventually, figure out that this was meant to tell him that the love of his life is pregnant and he’s very happy, but food safety is no joke. 

Hans’ reaction depends entirely on s/o’s reaction. How are they feeling about all this? As one of the only two emotionally intelligent people in the F7 (the other being Jack) he’s very responsive to his partner on this. Any fears or concerns they have are going to be his top priority. Though, once told that they are happy about, Hans lets out his own happiness and shows just how over the moon he is about this. 

Hans is a great guy. He really is. He’s also an unapologetic mom-friend whose knee-jerk reaction to someone he cares about going through stuff is to feed them. Unless his s/o puts their foot down hard (which they aren’t because hell-o growing people is hungry business) Hans is going to live in his kitchen. Great in that he’s willing to cook up their weirdest cravings even if he does judge them on it. Bad in that s/o might accidentally wind up feeling lonely because he’s over-focused on feeding/caring for them to actually be around them. One good conversation though and that’s nipped in the bud quick.

Loves his friends. Truly. Really. Has seen his friends do some truly stupid things. He’s not above standing behind his s/o and giving any member of the F7 the side-eye something fierce if they be acting up around his partner. 

Average

Average is an idiot. I don’t mean that insultingly, I’m just stating facts. This man could not pick up a subtle hint if it punched him in the face and rummaged his pockets for common sense. Unless his s/o tells him point blank to the face, he’s not going to get it. Cute messages/hints do not work on the man. Just tell him. Even then it’s going to take a second. 

Average’s reaction is really hard to pin down. During the events of the movie I do not see him having an s/o, at least not one he has a good relationship with and by the end of the movie all his potential character growth that could lead him to having a partner is implied to happen as he breaks his new-found curse. Growth that could lead his personality in several different directions. For the sake of not having to write down every single possibility I’m going to go ahead and say that he’s shocked. 

Regardless of personality growth I can say he’s going to be very demanding of everyone else around them. His partner, the love of his life, deserves only the very best. Now that they are with child he has to make sure they have the best for them and for his heir! None of this subpar stuff. They’re royalty, they deserve the best. If he’s not stopped the nursery is going to cost more than the GDP of a small country. 

He’s a little lost on a lot of pregnancy stuff really. Average isn’t an emotionally intelligent person, so he’s not great with comfort. He doesn’t do well with making runs for food (great at getting servants to fetch the strangest food combinations though), or with massaging, or with a lot of the physically demanding parts. The thing is? He knows. He knows that he’s lost on this. And it worries him. If he can’t do much now, how is he supposed to be a great father when the kid does show up? It’ll take some picking away at his walls, but eventually his s/o can talk to him on this and help him through it. They’re a team. They will get through this together. 

Don’t let him name the kid. “Superior” is not a good name for a child.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Destiny’s Pawn

Douxie wants to never meet his soulmate. Krel isn't about to go searching for his own soulmate. Despite not realizing the meaning behind the names on their wrists, they meet anyways.

*slams a 38 page word document onto the nearest flat surface*

Here you go!

Content warning: This fic is rated M on AO3 and FFN for graphic depictions of bloody violence, dissociation, and panic attacks. In addition, this fic also contains dismemberment, mind control, suicidal ideation, minor character death, sleep deprivation, stress positions, and descriptions of poor medical practices.

AO3

FFN

Douxie is fourteen and sitting at his kitchen table, eating a bowl of instant ramen. This month has been going well. He’s been making new friends, one of whom is even a fellow wizard, he’s adjusting to the new time period, he hasn’t gone into any states of eerie numbness where he suddenly has no control of himself and commits violent acts, and it’s been a while since he has last had any flashbacks to Camlann. So, naturally, fate decides to make itself known once more and curse him with another prophecy.

Douxie is able to set his ramen down without spilling or burning himself when his right wrist explodes into light. Cyan light, to be specific, not the exact shade of blue that Douxie’s magic always seems to take.

Douxie doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to look, and yet he does. He has a soulmate, and he doesn’t want one. He ran away from his kingdom (further than he had intended, admittedly) and changed his name because he was sick of being destiny’s pawn, and yet destiny is still deciding to use him. And he laughs, mirthlessly.

At least the name of his soulmate isn’t a name that Douxie can read. He’s not even sure if it’s a human language, and Douxie doubts that the Trollish script has changed so much since he learned it as a child. Douxie isn’t even sure if he believes that aliens exist, not when magic is real and everyone else thinks that magic isn’t real. However, if his soulmate is an alien then that’s a good thing. The chances of Douxie ever meeting his soulmate are impossibly low. Douxie won’t have to worry about one day meeting his soulmate and having to push the guy away so the two of them don’t get hurt.

Douxie gets up and walks from his kitchen table to his dresser. It takes a while to open his top drawer, but it always takes a while. The wood’s warped, which is probably why the original owners got rid of it. When he finally gets it open, it doesn’t take long for him to find the two leather bracelets he had worn when he was younger. They’re slightly small on him, now, and Douxie will want to find a better replacement if he wants to keep the blood flowing in his right hand, but they cover up the name of his soulmate quite well.

No one will have to know. Not his classmates, not the guys in the band who’s name they still can’t decide on, and not Zoe and her talking cat, who will probably ask three times as many questions as everyone else.

Krel’s not sure when he started being jealous of his older sister. Maybe it’s when they started using serrators and Aja took to them so easily, and Papa seemed to value Aja’s skill at fighting more than Krel’s engineering feats. Which, admittedly, weren’t that good at that age, but they were children back then. Krel was still a genius compared to everyone his age, and everyone who was Aja’s age. And yes, Aja isn’t that much older than him, but considering how much she tries to lord it over him it may as well count.

Krel will admit that in the past three delsons since his wrist exploded into pale blue light, he has gotten much more jealous of his sister.

Krel thinks that Aja is very lucky. Aja’s soulmate is an Akiridion, and that makes things easier for her. Sure, Aja’s soulmate isn’t an Akiridion from a royal house, and it would technically be a scandal if Aja married her soulmate, who would be an ordinary Akiridion. Or, it would be an even bigger scandal if Aja’s soulmate was a Taylon. That doesn’t matter to Krel.

Aja doesn’t have Mama and Papa talking behind her back in hushed tones that sometimes cut out the moment anyone comes near. Aja doesn’t have Mama and Papa talking behind her back, trying to find the planet where the strange symbols on Krel’s lower right wrist are actually a name. Aja doesn’t have Mama and Papa talking behind her back about how maybe Krel’s interplanetary soulmate can be a way that Akiridion-V and this mystery planet can have an alliance. Aja may be older than him and technically just as much the heir to the throne as Krel is, but Aja is less of a political pawn than Krel is.

Krel can’t help but wonder if Mama and Papa actually love each other, or at least, if they loved each other when they got married. He can’t help but wonder if their marriage is, or at least was, entirely political. His parents are soulmates, and their marriage ended the feud between House Ventis and House Akraohm.

Krel doesn’t want to have to marry his soulmate for power, or to put an end to a fight.

Douxie will readily admit, dubstep and dolphin noises aren’t his thing, when it comes to music. He prefers emo, alternative rock, alternative metal, electronic rock, hard rock, industrial rock, the occasional pop rock and emo pop, gothic rock, symphonic metal, and hardcore punk. And, of course, trying to recreate lute music from his childhood on an electric guitar.

But the guy on stage, the one making or at least DJ-ing the dubstep? He’s mesmerizing. And not just because Douxie knows that Ash Dispersal Pattern actually has competition for once. There’s the way his eyes light up, and the way his hair falls in waves all the way down to his chin. The way the lights bounce off the guy is beautiful.

Maybe, after the battle is over, Douxie can find the guy, and…

Right. Douxie’s never really known how to talk to people, and even though he’s been slowly trying to memorize the social cues of this century he still feels like he’s even worse at talking to people than he was as a child. And that’s all without factoring in the fact that Douxie is even worse at talking to cute guys. He’s been told that he apparently flirts with girls, which really isn’t how he wants to come off, and yet he doesn’t know how to flirt with guys. It’s frustrating.

Douxie tries to think of ways he can maybe talk to the guy. Talking about music will probably be his best chance. And talking about music will be even on topic, not just awkwardly rambling because classmates expect him to make small talk.

And then, a girl wearing purple armor walks onto the stage. It’s Claire. She looks better than Douxie can remember seeing her, though considering that their track record has put Claire as possessed, sick, or on the verge of a mental breakdown anything is better. But, while tense, she looks… assured. Powerful.

She looks like how a wizard should, which honestly makes a lot of sense in hindsight.

Douxie has never figured out how to use his magic to open a telepathic link, but as he whistles and gives Claire two thumbs up he tries to communicate as much as he silently can to her. He’s like her. He understands what she’s going through. He can help her to understand her powers. He can introduce her to people, well, a girl and a cat that are like Claire and Douxie.

Claire starts to speak, and Douxie realizes that Claire’s armor is familiar. Familiar, like the more important knights, knights whose armor was enchanted to be more protective. Familiar, like his aunt. Familiar, like Merlin.

Douxie can’t ruminate on what this could mean, because the sun goes dark and there are Gumm-Gumms.

When the battle (the real battle, not just the Battle of the Bands) is over, Douxie is aware of three things. His skills have deteriorated in the three years since he fought his – in the years since he last used his magic to fight anyone. He was also unable to talk to Claire or the guy who did the dubstep.

Well, Arcadia Oaks is a small enough town. Hopefully he’ll be able to talk to one or both of them over the summer.

Krel waits until his sister and the other Akiridions are gone. He waits until Steve and Toby and AAARRRGGHH!!! are doing… something else. He waits until he can be sure that Ricky and Lucy are so engrossed in unpacking that they won’t follow him down into his lab. And then, he lets himself cry. It’s stupid. Crying hurts, and it makes him feel weak.

Krel remembers what Mother had said about crying when it first happened to Aja, and he just cries harder. He misses his parents, and he misses Mother. He misses his sister, and Varvatos, and they’re not dead. They’ve just gone back to Akiridion-V, where Aja is actually attending her own coronation as queen. Krel knows that his parents would have wanted him to attend. They would have wanted a lot of things for him, and Krel isn’t sure if he’ll be able to fulfill any of them.

Krel wipes his eyes with his wrist. It’s funny. His human form doesn’t have a name on either of his wrists indicating a soulmate, even though Krel’s soulmate is human. Probably. His soulmate could be a changeling, but his soulmate being human is more likely. Krel’s almost sure that Mother thought that by not giving them soulmates, they’d be even closer to invisible on Earth, especially Aja and Varvatos.

Krel has a good feeling as to what the name on his lower right wrist sounds like, and he could probably hack into the various governments of Earth, searching until he found out just who Mordred Pendragon is. Krel doesn’t do that, though. He wasn’t in any rush to find his soulmate during the three keltons between receiving the name and coming to Earth, and he isn’t in any rush to do so now. He’s seen the way Aja and Steve act around each other, and he doesn’t think he wants that right now. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever want that.

“Hey Krel?” Ricky calls. “Ship’s no going to clean itself.”

“Not yet, anyways!” Lucy says.

Krel sighs and goes to help clean.

Douxie supposes that it was probably better to be safe than sorry when it comes to fighting off whatever great evil is going to attempt to end the world for the fourth time this summer. Still, he doesn’t like the idea of being involved in one of Archie’s prophecies. The only saving grace is that if he has to be caught between two different fates, then at least he can fight off the worse of the two. Still, it’s annoying. Toby keeps on pestering Douxie and Zoe, asking them about how magic works and why the two of them haven’t tried to help out more, as if they haven’t been busy at their own school.

Well, what is he supposed to say? “I helped make your friend’s amulet” may be true, but it’ll reveal too many things about Douxie’s past. Too many things that Douxie has been trying not to think about.

No matter how reluctantly, Douxie, Archie, and Zoe have been working with Steve, Toby, and AAARRRGGHH!!! for the better part of four hours. The past several minutes have been consumed by fighting the first of the many foes that Archie has foretold. Specifically, it’s a group of constructs, suits of armor made of wood, crystal, and metal.

The fight could be going much better. Zoe doesn’t seem to have much combat experience, or at least, she keeps on picking the wrong spells to use on the various constructs. Douxie himself has decided to just use simple shielding spells with his left hand and to manifest a sleek black dagger in his right hand.

Parry. Sidestep. Advance. Douxie scoffs as the wooden construct dodges out of the way. A part of him knows that using a sword like the ones he trained with as a child will have a better reach, but the mere thought of using one causes him to lose his footing. The construct lunges.

It is consumed by cyan light.

Douxie looks up, and his lips part slightly in a gasp. He, just like the rest of Arcadia Oaks, has been made aware that extraterrestrials exist. However, he hasn’t seen any of them up close. No one has told Douxie that they are so beautiful.

The boy jumps off the floating skateboard, and both it and the gun he is holding collapse into themselves.

“Sorry for being late, the Blanks wanted me to help clean and didn’t let me use my phone.”

“Just had to play the big hero, right?” Steve asks the Akiridion.

“No, without Mother the ship isn’t repairing itself the way it used to.”

Zoe gives Douxie a pointed look, and he stops staring at… honestly, Douxie isn’t sure what the Akiridon boy’s name is.

Something inside of him tells him he should be cautious. He ignores that feeling; it must be fear from the world being supposedly about to end.

Though, as he complains to Zoe, it’s really not fair that Krel is so beautiful in both forms.

“Hand me the ixvali,” Krel said. While they would never be able to replace Mother herself, the repairs on the mother ship were almost done after half a parson, give or take a couple delsons. Well, time and the unexpected outside help.

“That one’s the half-monkey wrench, half swage looking tool, right?” Krel looks over at Douxie. For the briefest of moments, they make eye contact, but Douxie looks slightly away before it can become uncomfortable. But he does not fully turn his head to look away like he often does. There is a soft smile on Douxie’s face as he looks at Krel. For some reason, this makes Krel’s digestive organs flutter in a way that is uncomfortable and confusing but not painful.

Douxie is holding out the correct tool. In his right hand, not through levitation like he often does when people who don’t know that Douxie is a wizard aren’t around. Douxie had once mentioned that certain textures make him tense, which Krel understands. He feels the same way around random sounds, sometimes, which is why he often uses headphones when working. But he isn’t using any today.

Though, Krel has no idea why Douxie thinks the ixvali looked like one of the less intelligent of Earth’s native species.

Krel takes the ixvali from Douxie, and his fingertips brush against Douxie’s skin as he does so. The places where Krel’s skin meets Douxie’s tingle even after Krel removes them, and as Krel turns away his face feels slightly warm.

“You’re pretty good at this. Engineering, that is,” Krel says, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. He watches Douxie from the corner of his eye. “Where’d you learn?”

Douxie’s smile falls into a scowl, and for some strange reason with it so does Krel’s core. “An old friend of my father’s taught me. I cut contact with him a long time ago, though. After he betrayed my aunt.”

“I’m sorry.”

Douxie blinks a couple times. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

Douxie doesn’t like fighting knights. Likewise, he doesn’t like that they’re fighting Merlin. It brings back way too many bad memories of death and betrayal. Then again, even the good memories are tainted by Camlann, so he tries not to think about his past in general. There are reasons why he goes by a false name, after all.

But, if he doesn’t fight Merlin’s knights then his friends will have to fight them without him. It could be hubris, but Douxie is pretty sure that without him his friends will be badly injured or worse. And they will wonder why he didn’t defend him, which will lead to suspicion and questions, and…

It’s better that he just swallows his bile and panic in order to stand at his friends’ sides and fight.

Advance. Parry. Lunge. Keep an eye out for Toby, who’s been slightly off his game ever since AAARRRGGHH!!! left to help the other trolls several days ago.

As he stabs his dagger between the knight’s rerebrace and pauldron, the knight swings his flail into Zoe’s unarmored stomach. Douxie winces as she goes flying; he twists his dagger so the knight’s pain will increase.

And a beam of water crashes into the knight. Douxie dismisses his dagger into the aether as the knight gets pushed back. Let the water stimulate blood flow, for all he cares.

Douxie looks towards the source of the water, and his jaw drops slightly. Zoe’s ears and fingers are webbed, and there are iridescent scales on her face and arms. She reminds him of someone he hasn’t seen in years. Technically over a millennium, if he counts the years he wasn’t around for.

The knight crushes an emerald between his armored fingers, allowing him to escape back to wherever Merlin is hiding.

“You’re not human, either?” Krel asks.

Zoe wraps her arms around herself, her shoulders drawing in like she’s trying to make herself smaller than she already is. Like she’s embarrassed about her appearance or scared of someone’s reaction. Except, this time she seems to be scared of Douxie and the others.

“No, I’m…” She looks at her feet. “Archie can probably explain it better. Shit, he’s gonna be so mad. I’m the Lady of the Lake. Well, the latest one, anyways.”

Douxie remembers the first Lady of the Lake. Personally, he likes Zoe better.

Now would be a good time to tell people about his past. To reassure Zoe that she’s not alone in having magic from a kingdom that no longer exists.

“Cool,” he says instead.

The stars are very different from home. It makes sense. It’s a different number of lightyears for each different type of starlight to reach Earth than it is for Akiridion-V. The two worlds also have different amounts of light pollution.

Krel and Douxie sit in a comfortable silence, staring at the stars and listening to the water in the pool lap against the walls. Not that talking to Douxie is uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. With both humans and Akiridions, there is always some barrier between Krel and communicating with them. While that barrier still exists with Douxie, it is so much lower than with most humans.

It has been three delsons since they and Toby and Steve learned the truth about Zoe and comforted her and told her cat that he could trust them, that unlike previous incarnations’ so-called friends they would protect her. It has been three weeks since Krel decided to stay on Earth and met Douxie. The only work left for the mothership is to wait for the new AI to install itself. It won’t be Mother. It’ll be less sapient, and it will take keltons for the AI to be anywhere near Mother’s level. But the ship has been rebuilt as it ever will be able to, in the aftermath of Morando’s attack.

Douxie inhales, sharp and loud, and grabs Krel’s hand. Douxie’s hand is calloused and slightly damp from sweat. The contact feels like when Krel has accidentally electrocuted himself, except for how it inspires no fear. If anything, it’s comforting.

Krel looks at Douxie. In the low light, Krel can barely make out that Douxie’s face is red.

“I, uh, I don’t know how to say this because even though I feel like I don’t have to adhere to a script and social cues as much around you both of those would be helpful right now because I have a crush on you and I understand if you don’t feel the same but I just wanted to tell you,” Douxie says quickly, glancing at Krel before looking around awkwardly, like he’s trying to find a way to escape.

Krel smiles and leans against Douxie, cherishing the way their arms brush together. He’s in his human form, so he can feel the blood rush to his own face, highlighting his cheeks in cyan. “I do. Feel the same the way, that is.”

It’s their first date. Or at least, Douxie thinks this might be their first date? Krel might not see it as a date, since his culture might have different rules for dating. He’s not even sure if he and Krel have technically been dating for the past less-than-forty-eight hours since they confessed their feelings for each other, or if dating starts with the first date. This is so different than what little he learned about courting when he was younger.

Last night he swiped a few mints from the bowl of them at the restaurant before leaving work. Really, it might’ve been more than a few, but the night was winding down anyways. He’s now crunching on one of them in apprehension as he waits for Krel to arrive. It’s a way to try and get rid of the nervous energy that fills his bones. Not for their intended purpose of making your mouth smell better and not taste like your last meal, for the purpose of talking or personal comfort or even kissing someone after the date ends.

Douxie feels himself blush at the idea of kissing Krel. Holding Krel’s hand is intense and Douxie isn’t ready for their relationship to go quickly. They haven’t even talked much about how they want this to progress, or if they’re going to do anything to make their relationship official – do Akiridions even have the concept of making a relationship official?

Douxie wipes his palms on his jeans again. It’s the end of July, and once more he is reconsidering his choice to have nothing in his modern wardrobe but the color black aside from three band shirts, one of which he uses for sleeping. At the very least, maybe he should have left his hoodie at home. He hates the cold, because the cold reminds him all too much of Camlann, but it’s almost never cold in July and August except for in air-conditioned buildings, and this one isn’t.

At the very least, if he wore less black, maybe his hands would be sweating less. Or maybe it’d be the same, because he’s nervous and Krel is running late. It’s only late by thirteen minutes, but Douxie is already anxious. At least no one is giving him a weird look for sitting here alone, not having ordered anything, like he knows that people

Douxie once more checks his phone. There’s nothing. No Krel changing his mind, and no frantic texts from friends who have been attacked and need backup. No magical notifications of knights or constructs, either. He sets his phone to sleep but doesn’t shove it in his pocket. He tries not to worry as he scans his surroundings.

The coffee shop is quiet. There are a couple other people, and some annoying pop song is playing, but other than that it’s quiet. It’s late morning on a weekday, and this coffee shop has never been as popular as the chain one a block away with a drive thru.

Douxie unlocks his phone again, and scowls down at it. Why did he make the pattern so complicated to draw when only using one hand to both hold and unlock his phone?

Someone taps Douxie’s shoulder, and he looks up.

It’s Krel. There’s a sheen of sweat on his face. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but strands all over have fallen out. He’s beautiful.

“Sorry I’m late,” Krel says, out of breath.

“It’s fine,” Douxie says, his scowl quickly fading into a smile. He rises from his seat, and the two of them go to stand in line to order drinks.

Seven minutes later, the two of the are sitting once more. Krel is telling a story from his childhood as he dumps his third and final sugar packet into his otherwise black coffee. “And then Luug came running in and tripped up Loth Saborian. Oh, uh, Luug’s mine and Aja’s pet soolian. Well, he’s more Aja’s than mine.”

“I thought he was her dog.” Douxie took a sip of his chai to try and cover up his awkward expression as he realized what he just said. “Though I guess that’s what your sister called him to blend in when he got loose?”

“Yeah, plus his transduction is a dog, though he wasn’t transducted when he swallowed my prototype. Um, that was when she was chasing him all over town. Did you ever have any pets?”

“My father had a dog when I was growing up; his name was Cavall. Which I found odd growing up, since his name meant horse. And, like, he was a hunting hound? Or at least he was before I was born, but he was getting old. But, I had thought it could get confusing. Maybe it was just me, though. So, anyways, what happened after Luug tripped your parents’ advisor?”

Twenty-seven horvaths after their date, Krel still feels oddly buoyant. He wonders if Douxie feels the same way.

Douxie is off working at his job at the bistro, and the rest of them are hanging out with Zoe as she works at the record store. She had poked him in the shoulder and told him not to shoplift, with a smile on her face. Krel had rolled his eyes, and now he is looking through the various albums while the others talk. If he finds an album with an interesting title, or even a song with an interesting title, he plays it on his phone, the volume low and muffled by his hand because he didn’t bring his headphones and earbuds feel so weird. It’s like research.

Toby sighs. “I hope I get my soulmate’s name soon. I’m pretty sure I’m, like, one out of the only three, maybe four, people in our year who doesn’t have one.”

“I mean, does Darci have her soulmate’s name yet?” Steve asks.

“No, she’s one of the other three to four people in our year,” Toby says, “but we also haven’t spoken much in the past week since she’s on vacation the other side of the planet right now. And she’s a couple months older than me.”

Krel glances at his oddly bare wrist as he looks up a band called Starset on his phone. He doesn’t want to meet Mordred Pendragon, whoever or wherever he is. Krel is very happy with Douxie, and he doesn’t want to meet his soulmate.

“Dude, I doubt she’ll break up with you even if it turns out that she has a soulmate who isn’t a huge furry.” Toby punches Steve in the arm.

“I mean, does it matter if you have a soulmate?” Zoe pipes up. “I mean, I don’t have one. Though, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m aro, or well, I’ve already got a mark on my arm stating my destiny.”

“Okay, but like, aren’t platonic soulmates a thing?” Toby asks. “And multiple?”

“Yeah, but studies have shown that aro-spec people have a higher tendency to not have soulmates than alloromantic people,” Zoe says. Krel wonders if this is true across species, or if he’s in the minority of demiromantics. “Also, multiple soulmates are, like really rare. Plus, I don’t want one anyways?”

“Hey, if you get your arm cut off above your tattoo thing, would you lose all your magic?” Steve asks, rubbing at where Eli’s name is on his wrist.

Zoe blinks a couple times, her voice lowering in volume. “Don’t know, don’t let Archie hear you say that; why do you ask?”

“Well, there’s the superstition that if you cut off the wrist that has your soulmate’s name, they’re no longer your soulmate,” Steve says in a low voice

“I mean, are we sure that wasn’t just something made up to dehumanize people who’d lost hands?” Toby asks.

Zoe shrugs. “Trust me, I don’t specialize in soul-based magic, and if I try Archie will never let me hear the end of it because it’s dark. But, yeah, I have no idea what magic goes on when it comes to lost hands and soulmates.”

Merlin has sent another knight after them along with a trio of constructs. This knight does not wear a helmet, so Douxie can see the knight’s identity. It’s Caradoc, but he seems strangely younger than how Douxie remembers. Maybe it’s the lack of stress from no longer having to run a kingdom. Maybe Camlann and everything that came after had been good for Caradoc and the kingdom of Gwent.

Douxie remembers being told when he was young that Camelot protected the other kingdoms from Gumm-Gumms and dark wizards, and yet despite that, many opposed it because its king had grown up under the care of a minor lord. Caradoc had been one of those in opposition, and Douxie had been told to remain cautious about him. Except, he hadn’t yet been Douxie then.

“Hand over Mordred,” Caradoc says, “and I’ll let most of you kids go.”

Douxie is keenly aware of the way sweat drips down the back of his neck as Toby and Steve give each other confused glances, Krel raises an eyebrow, and Zoe narrows her eyes.

“Who’s Mordred?” Steve asks. The sound of distant traffic covers Douxie’s relieved sigh as he realizes that none of them associate him with that name.

Krel shifts his serrator into its gun form, and Zoe sends a wall of water towards Caradoc. Douxie summons a dagger and a shield before he charges towards Caradoc.

Parry. Dodge. Parry. Lunge. Parry. Thrust. Adjust footing. Douxie focuses entirely on the fight in a way that would be dangerous if anyone else wanted to attack him.

Parry. Thrust. Adjust shielding spell. Douxie focuses on the fight, because if he allows himself to think about anything else his mind will focus on things that are dangerous to think about. Things like Camlann, and the three hazy days that followed where Merlin revealed the lengths he was willing to go to fight the Gumm-Gumms.

As Douxie’s dagger clashes against Caradoc’s sword, their eyes meet. Caradoc grabs Douxie’s shoulder, prolonging the painful eye contact.

“Should I tell them, or have you already told them, Mordred?” Caradoc says in a low voice. Douxie feels pressure wrap around his skull and numbness settle into his bone. “And should the Lady of the Lake find out before she dies?”

Mordred doesn’t think as he releases the shielding spell and flicks his fingers in the right way to summon a burst of bright blue light to distract Caradoc enough that Mordred can escape his grip. It’s muscle memory to change his dagger into a sword. Before either of them can recover, Mordred rams his sword up through Caradoc’s chest, using magic to bypass Caradoc’s armor.

Mordred dismisses the sword and lets Caradoc’s body fall. He has forgotten what it is like for another person’s blood to soak into his clothing. It is warm, too warm, warm enough that an icy coldness settles into the rest of his body. He was able to forget, to think that every time he woke up screaming and soaked in his own sweat that it was as bad as when he was covered in his father’s blood, but this is so. Much. Worse.

“First kill?” Toby asks, and Mordred can’t tell if his voice is suspicious or sympathetic. This is not Mordred’s first time killing another human being. This is the first time he has killed another human when he feels like his body and mind mostly belong to him.

Mordred hopes his trembling approximates to the proper kind of nod. He takes a few steps towards his friends, but he then turns away so he can violently expel the contents of his stomach into a nearby bush. He appreciates the way Krel grabs Mordred’s bangs and holds them away from Mordred’s face, even if his boyfriend looks disgusted. Hopefully by the vomit and not the fact that Mordred just killed someone. He isn’t even sure if it was entirely to save his best friend or to save himself from everyone else’s judgement. Maybe he didn’t have to kill Caradoc. He could have incapacitated him. Maybe.

Mordred stands up, wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and grimaces. “I’m going to go home and get ready for work,” he says quickly. Hopefully not too quickly. His friends give him what he hopes are sympathetic looks, and he runs off.

He locks himself in his apartment and rips off his soiled clothes. He brushes his teeth to get rid of the taste of vomit as he waits for the water to heat up; while he wants to be free from the feeling of blood on him he doesn’t want to be cold, because being cold means the memories of stabbing through his father’s chest will feel so much more real because Mordred had been cold when he killed his father.

Mordred removes his watch and his bracelets before he tests the water’s temperature with one hand. As he does so, the cyan writing that has been on the inside of his wrist for three years catches his eye. He has spent enough time with Krel to know that the script is Akiridion. Something between a maniacal laugh and a pitiful sob bursts from his lips. He loves Krel. Krel can’t be his soulmate, though, because a soulmate is another prophecy, and the last prophecy involving Mordred didn’t end well. It ended in him dissociating into a state of eerie numbness where he couldn’t control his body and he killed his father by stabbing him through the chest. Just like he stabbed Caradoc through the chest.

But, but Krel had mentioned that while the population of Akiridion-V is smaller than Earth, the amount of Akiridions in the universe is about four and a half times the number of humans. And Akiridions aren’t the only ones who used the Akiridion script. So, it is entirely possible that Krel isn’t Mordred’s soulmate. It’s possible that fate won’t make Mordred kill Krel.

Mordred finishes undressing and enters the shower, twisting his body to soak up as much heat as possible. Because he hasn’t stopped trembling, he can’t tell if he’s sobbing or if soap has just gotten in his eyes.

When Douxie finally exits the shower once more, his skin is raw from scrubbing, heat, and in some areas just how much he had scratched at it, trying to escape the phantom feeling of someone else’s blood.

“Are you alright?” Krel softly asks his boyfriend as the two of them meet up in front of Zoe’s house. “After everything that happened yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Douxie says as he stares at the sidewalk. “Well, I’ve been better, but I’m doing better than yesterday.”

Krel squeezes Douxie’s hand once before dropping it as they step through the door. The two of them are the last to arrive. Steve, Toby, and Zoe are talking in hushed voices, but they stop before Krel can hear what they’re saying. Archie bats at one of Douxie’s shoelaces, nearly tripping them. They take their seats at Zoe’s kitchen table. It’s cramped, and the chairs don’t match, like normally there are only three chairs.

“Okay, so, Mordred,” Zoe says. “A basic Wikipedia search will tell you he’s the son of King Arthur, and he grew up to kill Arthur at a place called Camlann. But that’s where things start to go awry. Mordred practically killed Arthur in cold blood, and he was also Merlin’s apprentice, which means that he should be an enemy of ours. Except, we don’t know where he is, and I don’t think Merlin knows where he is either.” She turns in her chair towards Archie. “Uh, am I missing any details?”

Douxie twists his skull pendant on its string.

Archie raises his head from his bowl of cat food and swallows before speaking. “Mordred did everything he’s infamous for prior to my birth, so it’s not like I can provide you with fine details. Oh, stop giving me that look, I’m not that ancient. But, your memories from the first Lady of the Lake are more accurate.” Archie walks over to the table and hops on top of it. “The one thing I can tell you is that soon after killing Arthur, Mordred disappeared. In fact, until you came to me with this information, I had thought he was dead. And if he’s alive, then why hasn’t he come out of hiding until now?”

Krel flips the clasp to his watch back and forth, trying not to cringe.

“Okay, but why would that knight have thought he was with us?” Steve asks.

Toby shrugs. “Maybe Merlin thinks Mordred turned against him and took refuge with us? I mean, about half of our oldest troll allies – in terms of being on our side, mind you – all tried to kill me and… and Jim, at one point or another.”

Douxie sits up straight. He stares very intently at where some dishes are drying. “I mean, maybe we can use this against Merlin? I mean, maybe Merlin did something that made, er, Mordred turn against him. And maybe Mordred is so against Merlin that, that he’d be willing to work with. Us.”

Everyone stares at Douxie before Zoe clears her throat. “Are you forgetting the whole ‘killed his dad in cold blood’ thing? We wouldn’t be able to trust Mordred not to kill us in the hypothetical scenario that he hates Merlin.”

Douxie slouches down into his chair, twisting one of the white strings of his hoodie between his fingers.

“Hey, what’s Mordred’s family name?” Krel asks slowly, using his right hand to twist the watch on his left hand.

“Pendragon,” Zoe says. “Why?”

Krel sighs. “Mordred Pendragon is my soulmate.”

Douxie inhales sharply.

Toby makes a disgusted face that quickly turns into confusion. “Wait, but you don’t have a name on your wrist. Or is it under your watch?”

Krel pulls out his serrator and changes back into his Akiridion form. “It’s just not on my human form.” He rolls up his lower right sleeve to expose his soulmate’s name. Zoe, Toby, Steve, and Archie all lean in to stare at it with morbid curiosity. Douxie stays sitting the exact same way he has been, but one of his eyelids twitches.

“Could we, I don’t know, track him through Krel?” Toby asks. Douxie pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. Krel finds it sweet that Douxie’s home screen is a picture of Krel.

“Dark. Magic,” Zoe and Archie say in unison. Douxie opens his texting app but does not exit from the groupchat that five teenagers sitting at this table use.

“Hey, uh, my manager wants me to come in early today, I need to go,” Douxie says. He leaves too quickly for Krel to call him out on his lie.

Krel finds him hours later, during Douxie’s actual shift at GDT Arcane Books.

Mordred sighs. He doesn’t want to do this. He has to do this to save Krel’s life. Behind the counter, he casts a quick illusory spell.

“You didn’t need to come in early,” Krel says. “I saw your phone.”

Mordred stays silent.

“Why’d you lie about it?” Krel asks. “Are you – is this because you’re not my soulmate?”

“Yes.” No, quite the opposite. He is Krel’s soulmate. While unrequited soulmates do exist, it is far more likely that Krel is Mordred’s soulmate. Which means that Krel is in danger. Prophecy and Mordred put together is dangerous.

“Look, I knew you weren’t my soulmate when we got together, so why does it matter?”

“It, it does.”

“You’re being really petty. And shallow.” Krel’s voice raises with each word.

“Okay. Are you done?”

“Well, do you have anything to say?”

“I made a mistake.” Krel’s face softens, and Mordred forces venom into his own voice even though he doesn’t want to hurt Krel. “I should have never fallen for you. And had I known the truth about you and, you and Mordred, I would have never let myself fall for you.”

Krel’s glare returns with a vengeance. “I can’t believe you. When Merlin’s defeated, I never want to speak to you again!”

As Krel storms out of the bookstore, Mordred releases the spell that he used to hide the tears in his eyes.

Krel wants to just lie on his bed and read through old blueprints with a recording of the common sounds of Akiridion-V playing in the background. He wants to lose himself in engineering, so he won’t have to think about Douxie and Mordred. Technically, he had just wanted to lay on his bed face-down when he had gotten home, but Krel has found that doing so doesn’t stimulate his brain enough and without stimulation all of his thoughts go to his now-ex-boyfriend.

But his phone gives him an alert. He’s getting a call from Akiridion-V. And so, with a groan, he drags himself out of his bed and into the lower portion of the Mothership, where the video call center is.

“Hi, Krel!” Aja says. She looks exhausted, but she is still so cheerful that some of Krel’s own misery fades away.

“Hi. How’s life as queen?”

“Busy. So, so, so very busy. I wish I had listened more to Mama and Papa.” She looks away from him, face falling.

“Me, too,” Krel says softly. It’s not hard for him to believe they’ve been dead for so long, though. Aside from the few short moments, they had been reduced to their cores. They had been practically dead, and the mourning wasn’t as hard. But Krel isn’t constantly surrounded by reminders of his parents. He has other things to worry about, like –

No, Krel is not thinking about his ex right now.

“It doesn’t help that some of the lesser royal houses think that I’m not ready, considering that I ran away from the first coronation.”

“Yeah, you kind of brought that on yourself.”

“But, anyways, enough about me,” Aja says, her smile returning. “You had some non-urgent but important good news a couple delsons ago? And I’m sorry I didn’t have time before, but I do now!”

Krel feels his own face fall. “I… I had wanted to tell you that I had a boyfriend, but, he broke up with me two horvaths ago.”

“Oh, Krel, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come back and beat him up for you?”

“No, I handled it. I just… before today, he’s never been so shallow. He broke up with me because he found out I’m not his soulmate.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to beat him up for you? Or send Varvatos to do so?”

“No, Aja. By the way, have you told Steve about your own soulmate? And speaking of him, how is Varvatos?”

Parry. Adjust footing. Advance. Shove phone back into hoodie pocket because that was a stupid place for Douxie to put his phone when he knew he was running towards a fight. Step out of the way for Zoe to get the finishing blow.

“Anyone else think that construct was oddly weak?” Steve asks. The five of them are crowded into one of Arcadia’s alleys, having gotten up relatively early to go fight it. Krel had given Douxie a murderous glare, and afterwards had just ignored Douxie.

Mordred is very tempted to beg for Krel’s forgiveness, but no. It’s safer this way. If they don’t spend time together, the likelihood of Mordred killing his soulmate goes down.

“Don’t you dare jinx us,” Toby says.

“I mean, Steve’s kind of –” Zoe starts before she gets blown back by a wave of magic. So do Krel, Steve, and Toby. Only Mordred is left standing.

Mordred, and Merlin, who drops the spell he was using to keep Mordred and the others from noticing him.

“Kneel,” Merlin commands.

A coldness spreads through Mordred’s limbs. He mindlessly walks forward, ready to follow this command and kneel in front of his master. Douxie shakes it off and breaks into a run. As he does so, his phone falls out of his hoodie pocket, but he pays it no mind.

Mordred attempts to stab Merlin with his dagger, but Merlin parries with the Staff of Avalon. Glowing green ropes force Mordred into a kneeling position.

Mordred looks behind himself. Scales are flickering on and off of Zoe’s skin, and the construct has come back to life and is trying to entrap her within it. Everyone else is trying to pry her out. Mordred fights against his bonds, trying to escape them so he can help Zoe.

“For all of his faults,” Merlin says, “your father never lost the humility that came with not having been raised a prince. Unlike you, Mordred.”

In the background, one of his friends – or at least, former friends, now that they know – gasps.

Upon hearing his name, Mordred tries to hang his head in shame. Merlin places the Staff of Avalon under Mordred’s chin and forces Mordred to look at Merlin. Mordred tries to avoid his former master’s gaze, but Merlin helped to raise Mordred. Merlin knows how Mordred will try to avoid eye contact by faking it, by looking at people’s eyebrows, forehead, cheeks, or nose. Merlin knows that Mordred finds prolonged eye contact painful, and so he’s using this against Mordred.

Mordred hears Toby exclaim something, and footsteps behind him, but he can’t make them out any further due to the ringing in his ears.

Merlin removes his staff from under Mordred’s chin and slams the butt of it into the ground, sending the two of them away from the battle.

They make their way to Zoe’s house. Krel gets the feeling that everyone else is also reeling from the battle, if for possibly different reasons.

“Are you alright?” Archie asks, curling his body around Zoe’s legs. She picks up her familiar. She looks like she wants to hug him, but she holds him in front of her instead.

“Did. You. Know?” Zoe asks.

Archie nods gravely. “Yes, I warned you years ago about how Merlin will try to bind you if he ever found you. He did so to… to far too many of your predecessors. I am so glad you’re not imprisoned.”

“I… no, did you know that Douxie is Mordred?” She then hugs Archie to her chest. Her arms shake as she does so.

“He’s what?” Archie climbs to her shoulder and looks around at the four of them. “Again, I wasn’t born yet. If what your saying is true, then you met him before I did. Then again, the two of you always did act like cousins, so it makes sense. But where is he?”

“Merlin took him,” Toby says, one of his hands curling into a fist. With the other he takes Douxie’s phone out of his pocket and places it on the table. “And it’s not like we’ll be able to contact him.”

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” Zoe says, not really looking at any of them. “Mordred’s supposed to be bloodthirsty and back during freshman year Douxie nearly had a panic attack while trying to take care of me because I accidentally sliced my finger open.”

“Well, maybe Douxie isn’t Mordred and Merlin made a mistake by calling him that?” Krel offers. Douxie can’t be Mordred, because Mordred is Krel’s soulmate and Douxie broke up with Krel because Douxie isn’t Krel’s soulmate.

“How did Douxie respond to being called Mordred?” Archie asks. “Did he try to refute this at all.”

“No, he just kind of collapsed in on himself,” Zoe says.

Toby smiles weakly at Krel. “Well, at least your soulmate isn’t some creepy old dude who likes killing people?”

“But, he can’t be. If Douxie is Mordred, and he’s known that he’s Mordred, then why did he break up with me yesterday?”

“Wait, he broke up with you?” Toby asks.

“I told you two that they had gotten together, pay up,” Steve says.

“We never actually made that bet,” Zoe says.

“You three bet on us?” Krel is in his human form and he isn’t sure if he wants to cross his arms or put them on his hips.

“We didn’t agree to it,” Toby and Zoe say almost in unison.

“But anyways, he broke up with you?” Toby says.

“Yeah. Douxie was mad that Mordred is my soulmate. And it doesn’t seem like him to be so mad that he’s not my soulmate, but it makes more sense than him being mad that he is my soulmate and lying about it.”

They teleport to a fort with stone walls and floors. Jim walks up to them, movements stilted like a puppet. His eyes are glowing green.

“Take him to the antimagic cell for now while I prepare,” Merlin says.

Jim grabs Mordred by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to his feet. Jim then pushes Mordred to start walking down the hall.

Mordred’s hands tremble with a nervous energy. He narrows his eyes and begins to try to do the hand movements inherent to the first spell he ever cast. It’s more difficult to cast it in a stealthy fashion, considering that the first time he ever cast the spell he hadn’t even been trying to cast spells. He hadn’t even known he was a wizard back then; he was just a three-year-old who would flap his hands whenever he got excited, and that day he had managed to flap them in such a way that caused his magic to ignite.

After slightly less than a minute, Mordred’s hands erupt into balls of blue fire. Unfortunately, Jim does not startle from this. Instead, he just pulls a dagger from his armor and hold it to Mordred’s throat. Mordred lets the fireballs dissipate into nothingness.

“Okay, I won’t do that,” Douxie says. “But seriously, Jim, you need to fight this. I know we don’t know each other that well, but surely you don’t want to be doing this?”

Jim remains mind controlled as he throws Mordred into the antimagic cell. Literally throws. Mordred knows he’s going to have bruises from the impact.

The cell door swings closed quickly, but an armored hand catches it. It’s not Jim. It’s the knight that had hit Zoe with a flail, forcing her to reveal the source of her magic. He’s not wearing his helmet.

“Agravaine?” Mordred says, forcing himself to sit up even though it will likely be more comfortable to continue lying on the floor. He wonders if he hit his head, because his cousin is apparently still alive after all these centuries. “You changed your armor.”

“You know, I thought you were finally starting to get smart, when you killed your father and all that,” Agravaine says. “Clearly you’re still a dumb kid.”

“Are Gawain, Gaheris, and Gareth still alive?” Mordred asks. Agravaine scowls, like it’s Mordred’s fault that he had found his other three Orkney cousins more interesting and fun to be around when he was growing up. Personally, Mordred had liked Agravaine better than their cousin Ywain le Fay, but if Agravaine is working for Merlin then Ywain is now his second-to-least favorite cousin on his father’s side.

“No,” Agravaine says. “Gareth and Gaheris were killed by Gumm-Gumms. Gawain, on the other hand, he made the mistake of opposing Merlin.” Agravaine lets go of the cell door, letting it continue swinging close. “But if it’s any help, I’m sure Merlin has a better use for you than death.”

“Just, why didn’t he tell us?” Zoe asks.

“I think he tried,” Steve says. Everyone looks towards him. “Yesterday, Douxie tried to get us to believe that maybe Mordred would be willing to help us.”

“He was stuttering a lot,” Archie says.

“Exactly!” Steve says. “I mean, without any proof his idea of Mordred being on our side sounded kind of crazy, but I think he was trying to, you know, test the waters? See if it was safe to reveal himself? Kind of like how Aja did with me. And we completely blew it. Now, him being weird and breaking up with you for being his soulmate while claiming the opposite, I’m getting a headache just thinking about it, but everything else? I think he was trying to get us to help and we didn’t help him.”

Zoe sighs. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Krel nods in agreement.

“I’m going to call Claire,” Toby says. “Let her know what to look out for, see if she has any intel, see how she, Blinky, and my Wingman are doing when it comes to protecting the trolls from Merlin. See how she’s healing from Merlin cutting off her hand – I hope Merlin doesn’t try doing that to Douxie, especially since it might be harder to get his hand back than it was with Claire. By Deya, I want him to stop hurting my friends.”

And getting Claire’s hand had led to Merlin controlling Jim.

“We’ll save him,” Krel vows.

Douxie isn’t sure how long he’s been kept in the antimagic cell, alone with only his memories to plague him. Well, that, and one very stale piece of bread that Agravaine tossed at Mordred’s head.

Jim opens the door to the cell, and gestures for Mordred to come out. Jim never enters the cell. Douxie wonders if entering the cell will free Jim.

Maybe Mordred should feel guilty for having made the amulet. Sure, the amulet ensured that the Gumm-Gumms, the beings who killed two of Mordred’s parents and two of Mordred’s cousins, were finally defeated, but it’s also being used to control Jim. But he’s too exhausted to think about it. He’s exhausted from being completely cut off from his magic, so Mordred doesn’t fight back. He just goes to wear Jim leads him.

It’s a small room, but it’s larger than Douxie’s cell. Jim shuts the door behind Mordred, leaving him alone with Merlin. Merlin has his back to the entrance. A set of papers float in front of him. One set older, one set newer. Nearby, a sword is being sharpened with magic.

Mordred swallows down his bile. It’s Excalibur, out of its sheath. His father didn’t unsheathe Excalibur when he fought Mordred at Camlann.

In the center of the room is a stone pillar.

Merlin flicks a hand, and Mordred is dragged towards the pillar by magic. Ropes twist themselves around his arms, legs, and torso. His upper right arm is on the pillar. Mordred is able to twist his head to try and see the papers.

He’s seen the set of old papers before. He first saw them soon before he accidentally sent himself to the twenty-first century. Actually, they’re what truly inspired him to run away from Merlin. They’re the plans to the Amulet of Daylight.

The newer papers look like plans for an amulet.

Mordred remembers how Claire nearly lost a hand to Merlin, and how even now it’s still healing from the dismemberment.

“Please don’t do this,” Mordred pleads as he tries to force himself not to hyperventilate. “I can help you in other ways.”

Merlin grabs Excalibur. “You should have thought of that centuries ago. Besides, you’d be surprised by how hard it is to find wizard hands.”

Mordred glares at Merlin and tries to summon his magic. Lightning, fire, anything. But he hasn’t recovered from the antimagic cell, so he can’t fight back. He still strains against his bindings.

“Fine, have it your way and fight back,” Merlin says. “It’ll only hurt worse.”

As Merlin brings down Excalibur, Mordred’s last thought before painful oblivion takes him is that he can almost understand why Aunt Morgana turned on everyone.

But only almost.

It’s been a long two delsons since Merlin took Mordred. They’ve tried to cover up Douxie’s disappearance. Zoe with illusory magic, Krel with a hastily thrown together transduction, and Toby and Steve with a shared glamour mask. That, and the fact that Douxie’s phone got left behind. They’ve seen him unlock it enough times that it isn’t too hard to hack, though the pattern is annoyingly complicated.

Krel sighs. He’s supposed to meet up with Zoe in a few horvaths, to try and find a way to upgrade their weapons and armor. Well, everyone else’s weapons and armor, considering that Krel’s doesn’t need upgrading. They don’t know where Mordred, Jim, and Merlin are, but they’ll need to be stronger if they want to be able to ever fight Merlin to get their friends back. For now, though, he’s sitting in his room, sipping at a glass of juice that Lucy gave him.

An idea comes to him. It’s technically a violation of privacy, but Krel and the others have already been through Douxie’s phone. Krel’s desire to check Mordred’s wrist can’t be any worse. It’s just a selfish desire for Krel to see his own name on his ex’s wrist.

Krel activates the transduction that makes him look like Douxie. Krel’s name should be on Mordred’s right wrist, underneath the bracelets he always wears. The bracelets don’t budge.

Krel doesn’t get why he’s so disappointed when he returns to his Akiridion form. He should’ve known that the bracelets wouldn’t move. It’s a very basic transduction, only meant to fool people who won’t look too closely. People who don’t know Douxie’s mannerisms and won’t touch enough Douxie to notice that his clothes won’t move from his body. It’s meant to keep people from missing him.

It doesn’t stop Krel from missing Douxie. Krel frowns. He doesn’t want to miss Douxie. He isn’t fine with his ex being held captive by Merlin, but he also doesn’t want to miss him. He wants Douxie to be safe, and maybe a little miserable without Krel. He wants Mordred to be regretting his decision to break up with Krel. He wants an apology, and an explanation. But Krel doesn’t want to miss Douxie, he wants to try and ignore Douxie’s entire existence. Except, even when Krel and Douxie had just broken up, Krel hadn’t been able to ignore him. Krel isn’t sure if he’d be able to ignore Douxie like he wants to be able to, even if Douxie was safe and far from Merlin and not Mordred. Krel can’t stop thinking about Douxie, because…

Because…

“I love him,” Krel admits quietly to his empty room. Krel sits on his bed, one hand over his core. A single tear rolls down his cheek. Despite everything that Mordred has supposedly done, Krel loves him. Despite how much Douxie has hurt Krel by breaking up with him, Krel loves him. Or maybe that’s why he’s so hurt by the breakup, because Krel has never loved anyone the way he’s loves Douxie before.

Krel wipes his eyes with his lower right hand. He then rolls down the sleeve of that arm and presses his lips to where Mordred’s name has been on Krel’s wrist for three keltons.

Krel lowers his arm and chuckles a little, feeling silly for what he has just done.

He isn’t ready to forgive Douxie for how he hurt Krel, but maybe, just maybe, the two of them can go back to being on speaking terms after they rescue Mordred.

Mordred keeps his arms against his chest. Each time he hears footsteps pass by the dim cell that Merlin is keeping him in, Mordred finds himself switching which arm is crossed over the other even though doing so aggravates his injury. He can’t decide which arm he wants to be closer to any impending attack. His right arm feels useless, and it’d be better to use it to protect his left arm. However, he can’t bear the thought of his right arm getting any more hurt. He hasn’t been given painkillers, not pills, potions, spells, or even theriac, though the last of those might be hard to come by in this century. He certainly hasn’t been able to heal himself; an iron cuff has replaced his wristwatch and has locked away his ability to cast spells. The closest he has to a painkiller is the numbness that comes from having been locked in a small, dim cell for what feels like a very long time with nothing to distract himself with other than distant footsteps.

He supposes that the cuff better than the antimagic cell, because the inability to access his magic doesn’t feel as oppressive. Also, Jim has actually been handing the stale bread to him instead of just throwing it at him. But in the antimagic cell he wasn’t chained to a wall by his left arm. In the antimagic cell he could walk around more than two paces. In the antimagic cell he still had two hands.

Perhaps Mordred should consider himself lucky that he had been given bandages, not left to bleed out. Then again, luck is another form of fate, and fate is never on his side. Merlin probably has something planned for Mordred. Something horrible. Perhaps Merlin will harvest Mordred’s left hand as well, and then go on to harvest other parts of his body for spell components..

He can’t just be bait. Perhaps he thinks of himself as too important, but it doesn’t seem right. If Douxie is just bait, then Merlin wouldn’t have revealed Mordred’s identity to everyone else. Merlin would know that Zoe would hate Mordred and would lead the others in hating Mordred even if he had been their friend. If Douxie is bait, then he will fail at the role Merlin was forcing him to play. No one will come for him.

His friends hate him.

His soulmate is grateful that he doesn’t have to look at Douxie, if they’re even soulmates anymore.

His only living family are a cousin who’s never really liked him (and whom he’s never really liked back), and a genocidal aunt trapped in another dimension. Honestly, Aunt Morgana’s more likely to kill Mordred as she razes Merlin’s stronghold than she is to rescue Mordred. Never mind that once Mordred had found the list of ingredients Merlin had used for the amulet, Mordred had run away. He hadn’t been able to apologize to his aunt for everything involving her lost hand in a timely manner because he had accidentally sent himself forward in time about a millennium and a half, but she won’t take his excuses. Besides, she probably won’t recognize him; she hadn’t recognized him back when she had been possessing Claire. So why would she save him?

No one will save Douxie.

Mordred hears footsteps, and he recrosses his arms.

 “I am so glad you’re finally taking an interest in your past,” Archie says as he half reads, half lies on top of the plans that Krel and Zoe have drawn up.

“I’ve ‘taken an interest’ in artificing work before,” Zoe says.

“You wanted to make a magical flamethrower. Honestly, given that three of your uncles are firefighters and both your father and grandfather worked in a chemical plant, I wouldn’t be surprised if a mild case of pyromania runs in your family,” Archie says. “Really, you’re the Lady of the Lake, not the Lady of the Bonfire.”

“Some planets have lakes of fire,” Krel provides. Archie glares at him, stands up, and walks to sit directly in the doorway. Zoe just rolls her eyes.

“By the way, why does your armor need to have pink and blue ribbons?” Krel asks. No one else is getting anything as fanciful. Toby’s armor is being upgraded to be more like Jim’s in that Toby will be able to put it on in a flash of light. Steve is going to be getting a helmet and breastplate, and also an axe, all of which will be collapsible. He has broken far too many baseball bats when fighting constructs; it’s time for him to get a real weapon.

“Because in combination with the armor being silver, it’s trans rights,” Zoe says. “Also, I probably watched way too many magical girl shows when I was a kid. I mean, that was one of things that was actually cool about getting the Lady of the Lake powers. I thought I was getting a cool, supportive black cat that would actually be a useful and effective guide.”

“I can hear you,” Archie says.

Zoe ignores him. “That, and just the gender affirming part. By the way, Krel, are you sure you don’t want to do any upgrades?”

“I’m fine with just my serrator. I mean, it’d be nice to work on my portable wormhole generator, but we need weapons and armor. Besides, I’m more durable than the rest of you.”

Zoe frowns. “Sure, I just don’t want you to get hurt when we go to save Doux… Mor… ugh, I don’t know what to call him.”

“I’m sure we can ask him when we rescue him.” Krel hopes they can do so soon.

For once, it’s Agravaine dragging Mordred out of his cell. Literally dragging. At least Jim had left Mordred with some dignity left by allowing him to walk. Agravaine had taken the chain binding Mordred to the wall and is using it to drag Mordred along at a demanding pace. Or perhaps it’s a normal pace, and Mordred’s limbs are just not used to being able to move this long. Mordred does not know how much time he has spent shackled to a wall. He does not know how long it has been since he lost his hand.

He doesn’t dare to ask. When he was a child, Merlin told Mordred that he asked too many questions. Mordred doesn’t dare ask any now, for fear of punishment.

Agravaine takes Mordred back to the room where he lost his hand. Mordred tries not to hyperventilate as he looks around for a source of escape. Agravaine attaches the chain to the wall and leaves the room.

Excalibur isn’t in the room, but that does not give Mordred any comfort. Merlin might keep it with him. He might also keep it in some sort of pocket dimension. Not that Mordred can remember Merlin ever using that sort of magic. It had always been Aunt Morgana using magic inherent to alternate dimensions.

Then again, according to Krel there were more than three spatial dimensions, so maybe shadow magic isn’t needed to access them. Mordred misses Krel and everyone else so much. He doesn’t deserve to miss them, though. Especially not Krel. He doubts they miss him. They think he’s a ruthless, bloodthirsty killer. They hate him. Mordred doesn’t blame them. He hates himself, too.

Merlin enters the room. One of Merlin’s hands is empty. The other is clasped around something.

Merlin releases the shackle around Mordred’s wrist. Immediately, Mordred can feel his magic begin to return to his body. Before Mordred can attempt to cast any spells, Merlin’s hand wraps around Mordred’s throat. Merlin then places something circular and cold against Mordred’s chest. As Merlin removes his hand from Mordred’s throat, there is a flash of green light.

Mordred feels a numbness wrap around his skull and armor wrap around his body.

He doesn’t feel like Mordred anymore.

He doesn’t feel like Douxie anymore.

He doesn’t feel like a person.

He feels cold.

This feeling is familiar, and he is terrified.

The construct they were sent to fight was incredibly weak. Or maybe the upgrades to their weapons and armor are just that strong. Either way, after Merlin’s ambush Krel is nervous about weak constructs. He gets the feeling that the others are as well. All four of them look around, making sure there is no other threat.

It’s rare that any of them have seen one of the knights or the constructs actually teleport in front of them, but it always starts the same way. Smoke begins to swirl in the floor. As it rises, it glows with green light, and when it clears the knight or construct is there.

Mordred is there. He wears black armor. His helmet has a dragon with outstretched wings on it, and his pauldrons, knee-guards, and elbow-guards all look like wings. There are wings on the armor’s tasset as well. Mordred’s hands are completely encased in armor, and the guards on his knuckles are similar to the ones on his other joints. An amulet glows on Mordred’s chest plate with a poisonous green light, and the brightness of the carvings in his armor seem to correspond to how close they are to the amulet. The amulet looks like Jim’s, but the hands resemble wings. In addition, the amulet is about a third of the size of Jim’s.

His eyes are black and green and glowing.

Krel moves to take a step towards Mordred, but Toby puts his arm out and steps to the front.

“So,” Toby says. “You’re still too much of a coward to actually face us, so you’re going to keep using my friends as a shield.”

“I’m sorry,” Mordred says. His voice sounds pained and so very tired.

Toby’s expression changes from determined to terrified. Mordred’s hands open from the fists they had been clenched into. He waves his left hand in an arc, and five floating daggers appear in the air. He reaches out his right arm, and a sword appears in his hand. The crosspiece of the sword and daggers all have the same wing motif.

He lunges forward, and everyone has to scatter from formation to avoid the daggers.

Krel has fought Douxie before in practice spars. So have the others. Douxie rarely won, because he was always cautious while fighting them. Like he was afraid of hurting them.

The way that Douxie fights now is far more ruthless. It’s not the exact way that Douxie fights knights and constructs, because Douxie would be precise with his dagger and shield. He’d have to be, without armor and the reach of a sword. Worse, it’s not just an improvement to Douxie’s weapons and armor. He casts spells that create light and fire.

What Mordred loses in accuracy he more than makes up for in precision. Every strike makes Krel thankful that he and Zoe upgraded everyone’s armor.

But armor can’t fully save them. Sure, Mordred can’t pierce into the armor’s gaps because he can’t see them, but the armor doesn’t fully cover any of them. And too late, Krel realizes that Steve should have some sort of guards on his arms.

Right before Steve’s arm can be reduced to a bleeding mass of ribbons, the daggers twist so that the flat end hits them. And yes, being hit by them probably still hurts, but not as much as it would have.

Mordred places his left hand on his sword’s hilt. His jaw shifts, like he’s gritting his teeth.

Like he’s fighting back against Merlin.

Afterwards, the fight is slightly easier. Yes, Mordred now has more power to the blows, but he has more control. The fight is not easy enough for any of them to try and ask Mordred how to save him.

A single tear rolls down Mordred’s face as he stops himself from slashing through Krel’s chest.

An emerald floats up from some unseen spot in Mordred’s armor and crushes itself above him, sending Mordred away.

Krel isn’t sure which of his soulmate’s names he screams in frustration.

The cold numbness doesn’t leave when Merlin once more chokes Douxie as Merlin replaces the amulet with the shackle. Merlin then walks away, probably to summon Jim or one of the knights to bring Mordred back to his cell. Douxie doesn’t feel like a person, but he forces his lips to move and sound to escape his throat because he needs to know.

“You…” Mordred says, trying to force out the accusatory anger that he feels in some distant place that all of his emotions and everything else that makes him a person have been sent to. “You killed my father, didn’t you?”

Merlin glances over at him. “We both know that you stabbed him through the chest. And given how you’ve been fighting back against my control for the past several days, I’d say that you were more than capable of fighting back then, especially if you had truly cared about him. So, no. You killed Arthur. I just gave you the needed push. Unfortunately, you lack the discipline that you had back then.”

Merlin steps away, and some of that distant anger and shock is replaced by fear. Fear that Mordred is going to lose his left hand as well. Merlin continues speaking. “It’s really too bad. If your parents had just listened to the false prophecy I had given them, I could have stolen you away with the promise to kill you and instead raised you as my weapon since I had always known your magic would be powerful. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. But no. Without doubting the prophecy’s validity, Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere all thought the best choice was to raise you themselves and hope that I had misinterpreted the idea of you killing Arthur. Funny, that. When I created the false prophecy, I didn’t yet even have any intention to have Arthur killed. He had still been useful, then.”

The numbness is so intense that the entire trek back to Mordred’s cell is a blur.

Toby’s house is the closest, this time, so that’s where they go when Douxie is gone. Toby very purposefully avoids looking towards Jim’s house as they do so.

“That was Douxie’s voice,” Toby says as the four of them climb the stairs to Toby’s room. It’s the longest sentence he’s said since they heard Douxie speak.

“So?” Steve asks.

“Possessed people don’t have their own voice, they have the voice of the person possessing them. Draal spoke in Gunmar’s voice. Claire spoke in Morgana’s voice. Douxie isn’t possessed.”

“But he’s not the one in control,” Zoe says.

“No, but he was fighting back,” Krel says.

“The point is, how do we get him back? I’d go to Strickler for possession stuff since he was somewhat helpful with Claire, but like I said,” Toby says, glancing behind himself towards the direction of Jim’s house.

“Well, what if we cut him off from his magic?” Steve asks. Zoe winces at the idea. “Uh, cut him off from Merlin’s magic, anyways?”

“Wait, cutting Douxie off from his own magic might work,” Toby says. Zoe cringes away from him.

“How?” she says in a horrified tone of voice.

“Merlin’s tomb,” Toby says.

“I thought the entire problem is that Merlin is alive and none of us know how to kill him,” Steve says.

“It’s where me and the others woke Merlin up from in the first place.” A guilty look forms on Toby’s face. “Big crystal cave, weird rooms, the point is, Douxie won’t be able to use his magic there. Only Merlin’s magic works there, which is why I didn’t mention this to any of you for Jim. Plus, even though only Merlin’s magic working, that’s not where Merlin’s home base is. Don’t get why, though. But the point is, Douxie will only be using a sword. Maybe sword and dagger, by dual wielding. But he’ll be at a disadvantage.”

“But if he can’t use magic, then isn’t there a chance that Douxie will have a harder time fighting back?” Krel says as he sits on Toby’s bed.

“Merlin summoned Douxie back because he was fighting back,” Zoe says. “I think. Maybe? But I get the feeling that no matter what, it’s going to be a lot harder for him to fight back against Merlin next time he’s forced to attack us, no matter what.”

“How would we get Douxie to the tomb, though?” Steve asks.

Toby smacks a hand to his forehead. “Right. Forgot about that. We had to break Jim’s amulet to turn on the ignition for a gyre. I mean, Claire’s checked that place out with her portals, but I don’t want to ask her to do any portals. She’s got enough on her plate with protecting the trolls; I swear she has more white hair each time I see her.”

“I’ve been working on a portable wormhole maker, as a side project,” Krel says. “I need a power source, but I think it could work. The person operating it would have to stay behind, though.”

“I might be able to provide power?” Zoe says. “I’d have to see the schematics, though. But I think I’d be able to.”

“And then the three of us can save Douxie!” Steve punches a fist into the air. He winces as he moves his arm wrong; a bruise is forming.

“No. I have to go alone,” Krel says.

“No. You’re. Not.” Toby stands up to his full height so that he’s almost eye-level with Krel.

“All your weapons are at least somewhat magical. Same with your armor. It won’t work in Merlin’s Tomb. I’m the only one who will be able to fight him.”

Toby sighs. “Fine. But if you don’t come out after four minutes, then we’re coming after you.”

“Okay. Hopefully, the fact that Mordred’s my soulmate will help me in this.”

Mordred doesn’t really sleep after the revelation about the prophecy being false. He had a hard time sleeping in his cell before, since his left wrist was always restrained and there was always some amount of pain from his right arm. But it’s worse now.

Knowing that Merlin has been using Mordred since before he was even conceived makes it hard to sleep, eat, or walk the limited range his chain allows him to. All Mordred wants to do is stare at a single point in the wall and try not to think about, well, anything really, because everything leads back to the fact that Mordred is a weapon and always has been. He is a weapon, but if he had tried harder not to be he wouldn’t have killed his father.

His wrists ache constantly. His left wrist is constantly restrained. He is not sure how often the bandages on his right wrist are supposed to be changed, but they’re changed rarely enough that they’ve become dirty.

When he is able to try to fall asleep, he does not sleep well. Nightmares attack him constantly. They aren’t just the nightmares that have plagued Mordred for the past three years, not when some of them feature his friends being the ones with gaping stab wounds in their chests.

He feels so cold all over. Almost all over; his head feels so unbearably hot.

He is so tired. He is too tired to fight back when Merlin forces the amulet upon him again.

After all, Mordred has always been a weapon. It’s useless for him to fight back.

In that distant place where everything that makes him a person is being kept, he hopes his friends will kill him before he can kill them.

Four delsons are barely enough to finish the portable wormhole generator. Four delsons pass between the last time they saw Mordred and now.

Mordred doesn’t wait to attack them like he did before. He is silent. He doesn’t seem to be fighting back against Merlin. His eyes glow a brighter green, as do the carvings. His blows are meant to cause as much harm as possible.

A cut forms on Steve’s arm and another on Toby’s face as they shield Zoe, who’s channeling her magic into the wormhole generator.

“Are you sure about this?” Steve asks.

“Stick to the plan!” Krel shifts his serrator to its shield form to avoid the barrage of daggers.

Mordred is suddenly backlit by the wormhole’s cyan glow. Krel shifts his serrator into its sword form and charges. Mordred sidesteps him, parrying the blow. A line of blue fire forms between the two of them and the wormhole.

“Hey, Douxdred!” Toby shouts. For the briefest of moments, confusion cuts through Douxie’s blank expression. This gives Toby enough of an opening to slam his warhammer into Douxie’s upper legs, sending Douxie and one of his daggers flying through the wormhole. The others fall to the ground. Krel pulls out his hoverboard and flies over the flames and through the wormhole. It closes behind him.

Mordred walks towards him. He throws a dagger at Krel. Krel jumps off the hoverboard in order to avoid it. Mordred breaks into a run, sword pointed at Krel.

Parry. Dodge. Parry. Lunge. Parry. Krel grits his teeth as he adjusts his grip on his serrator.

Parry. Dodge. Thrust. Parry. Krel glances downwards to see if he could try and trip Mordred. Krel has to jump out of the way to avoid Mordred stabbing directly through Krel’s core.

Parry. Advance. Parry. Krel’s serrator gets caught on one of the wings of Mordred’s helmet, and he has to shift it into a shield to avoid losing it. Mordred’s sword clashes into Krel’s shield once, twice, three times before Krel forms a sword again.

Thrust. Parry. Krel wonders how quickly this fight would be over if he just shot Mordred. But Krel isn’t sure how to shoot Mordred and not kill him.

Advance. Mordred’s sword slices into Krel’s jaw, tearing the fabric. Krel parries to avoid any actual damage but loses his serrator in the process.

Krel pushes away at Mordred’s right wrist. Mordred howls in pain and drops his sword. As Mordred attempts to pull away, Krel’s fingers reach around the amulet and pull it out of the armor. Mordred’s eyes close and he falls backwards. Krel reaches for Mordred’s right hand, but his fingers slip through empty air. Mordred’s head slams into the stone floor.

Krel kneels next to him. All four of his hands shake. One of them is about to touch the bandaged stump where Mordred’s right hand used to be, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to cause any pain. With his lower pair of hands, Krel texts the group chat so they know he’s safe. At the same time, he grabs his serrator and the amulet from where they’ve fallen and sticks them in his pockets.

Krel’s fingers ghost over Mordred’s cheek as he tries to remember where to check a human’s pulse. Akiridions aren’t as sensitive to fluctuations in temperature as humans are, but Krel is pretty sure Mordred’s head shouldn’t be so hot. Mordred leans his head into Krel’s touch, and Krel sighs with relief. His soulmate is alive. Mordred opens his eyes, and Krel realizes that something is wrong.

Mordred’s eyes are no longer green; they are the same shade of gold that Krel has missed more than he had known. But they are hollow, like Merlin has reached into Mordred and taken out everything that makes Mordred a person.

“Krel?” Mordred asks. He sounds so tired. Tired, and scared, and pained. His hollow eyes focus on Krel’s jaw, where the suit is ripped. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, it was Merlin’s,” Krel says.

“Not just for that.” Douxie trembles as he sits up. Krel reluctantly removes his hand from Douxie’s cheek. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on his soulmate.

The wormhole opens behind them.

“Let’s go home,” Krel says. They stand up; Krel catches Douxie as he begins to collapse. Douxie cradles his right arm against his chest.

“Here, lean on me,” Krel says, his voice more frustrated than he intends. He’s not frustrated with his ex. Not too frustrated, anyways. He’s angry at Merlin. Krel had known that Mordred losing a hand was a possibility, but the reality hurts.

The selfish part of Krel wants to push Douxie away. Douxie is sticky with sweat and blood, and his gait is just different enough to throw Krel off. But the heartbroken part of Krel cherishes the way Douxie’s body presses against Krel’s own, the way Douxie leans into Krel’s touch. He knows it won’t last, but he wants it to.

They exit the wormhole into Krel’s house. Krel isn’t always the best at reading other people’s emotions, but it is easy to pinpoint when his friends realize that Douxie is missing a hand.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go call Dr. L,” Toby says, darting off as he pulls out his phone.

“What happened?” Zoe asks as the four of them follow Toby upstairs.

“Merlin happened,” Douxie mumbles.

“He hit his head when I got the armor off of him,” Krel says at almost the same time.

Krel deposits Mordred into a comfortable chair. Mordred’s hollow eyes follow Krel as he walks away, but then he just starts staring at a random empty point on Krel’s wall. His eyes start to flutter closed.

Steve pokes Mordred in the cheek.

Mordred opens his eyes. “Why?”

“Sorry, but you might have a concussion. If you fall asleep, you might fall asleep forever.” Steve turns to Zoe as he removes his finger. “He’s burning up.”

“Hey, Lucy, where do you keep your towels?” Zoe asks, running off as water begins to coalesce in her hands.

“I doubt it’ll be forever,” Mordred says. “Just another millennium and a half, like last time. Maybe then I can stop being Merlin’s weapon.”

Zoe comes back with a damp towel, using her magic to keep it from dripping on the floor. She unceremoniously lays it over Douxie’s forehead.

“Cold,” he complains. He reaches up with his left hand to move it, but Zoe presses the towel against his forehead.

“Yeah, well, suck it up, you’ve got a fever. Towel stays.” Zoe bites her lip as she steps away. Mordred sighs and continues staring at the blank wall, expression completely blank.

Quietly, she says, “I’ve never seen him this sick before. And his eyes. They’re…”

“Hollow?” Krel provides.

Zoe wraps her arms around herself. “I was going to say voids, but that works better.”

Toby walks over towards them. “Okay. So, Dr. L’s driving over. She’s going to pick him up and take him to the hospital.”

Krel takes the amulet out of his pocket and hands it to Zoe. “Do you think you or Archie could do something with this?” Zoe shrugs, but takes it anyways.

“Thanks for fighting back,” Mordred says, startling the four of them.

“Well, what else would we have done?” Steve asks.

Mordred sniffles. “My father didn’t when Merlin made me kill him. I wish he had.”

Toby, Zoe, Steve, and Krel all look at each other, not sure what to say after that. Mordred just continues staring at the empty wall.

Toby pulls out his phone. “Oh! Dr. L’s here.”

Steve takes Douxie out to the car. Krel looks down at his right hands and realizes that Mordred lost the wrist with Krel’s name on it.

A day later, Douxie is released from the hospital with instructions on how to keep his right arm clean, a list of legal instructions to handle with his employers considering that he’s lost a hand, medical results revealing that he doesn’t have a concussion, and several prescriptions. One is for the infection, one is for the fever, and another is for the pain. He isn’t sure how his health insurance will pay for any of it, not with how hard it is to try and get flu vaccinations covered, but Dr. Lake says not to worry about it and how the city is trying to set up a fund to help with defense. It’s hard for him to worry, but not because of her reassurement. He feels better than he did yesterday, but he still doesn’t feel like a person with actual, non-distant emotions.

Getting re-dressed is a frustrating endeavor. He drops his belt once before he gets the hang of using his forearm. He has no idea of how to tie his shoelaces with only one hand, so he stuffs them inside his shoes. He can’t figure out how to roll his hoodie sleeves up, so he lets them hang around his wrists. It feels wrong. For nearly as long as he can remember his sleeves have been cut short or rolled up. Long sleeves were a fire hazard around a toddler who would make fireballs, so Mother, Father, Da, and anyone else who cared about Mordred would make sure to roll up his sleeves if for some reason his were long. Mordred hasn’t accidentally set fire to anything in a long time, but rolled up sleeves are such a habit that the way they are now feels wrong.

And yes, he can technically use his magic to dress himself, but his magic feels tainted now. Tainted and distant, just like everything else about him as a person.

He walks into the hospital waiting room, arms pressed to his sides. It is mostly empty, aside from the receptionist and three other people. Specifically, three of Douxie’s friends.

Specifically, Zoe, Steve, and Toby. He is relieved to see them, to see that they care about him enough to come here. He doesn’t allow himself to be disappointed that Krel isn’t there, not with how Douxie hurt Krel. Krel should hate Douxie. Krel deserves to hate Mordred even more than everyone else does. Yesterday was just a fluke when Krel had handled Douxie so tenderly. It may have not even been truly tender, it may have been the aftereffects of possession, infection, betrayal, losing a hand, and otherwise poor living conditions causing Douxie to seek out any source of comfort even when there wasn’t one. It wasn’t tenderness, it was just wishful thinking.

The three of them are talking, but Toby notices Mordred first. He taps Zoe on the shoulder, and she looks up. She stands up from her chair and marches towards Mordred, anger radiating off of her.

Mordred tries not to flinch away. Of course. They hate him. They think he’s a bloodthirsty killer. Merlin forced Mordred to try and kill them and so they should hate him for their own safety.

“I can’t believe you,” Zoe says. “Seriously? Why am I listed as your next of kin? I have to get my parents to approve of my own, but somehow I have to make the medical decisions for you. Is that even legal? Why couldn’t you have found some adult to trust with this?”

She then hugs him with enough force that Mordred has to adjust his footing. His left arm shakes as he wraps it around Zoe.

“I can change it, if you want?” Mordred says. He doesn’t understand why it’s somewhat-legal paperwork that she’s mad about and not everything else.

Steve and Toby walk towards them. Steve pulls Douxie’s phone out of the pocket of his khakis.

“You dropped this,” Steve says. Zoe pulls away from Mordred so he can grab his phone. His hand shakes less now. Steve continues, “Oh yeah, you should probably change your password, since all four of us hacked into it so we could pretend to be you so your jobs didn’t think you’d just skipped town.”

“Yeah, also,” Zoe says, “we were wondering if you preferred to be called Douxie or Mordred?”

“I… it doesn’t matter,” Mordred says. He can’t hide from his past anymore, so there’s no reason to continue being Douxie, but Douxie is an identity he claimed for himself when everything else was ripped away from him. He can be both. Maybe he can find a way to change his name to legally incorporate the name he chose into the name his parents gave him. Considering how he was able to falsify his legal existence; it shouldn’t be too hard.

“Okay, Douxdred it is, then,” Toby says.

“One or the other; don’t call me that,” Douxie snaps, then cringes. He isn’t sure how he earned their forgiveness, but he can’t be threatening or else they’ll hate him. “I’m sorry.”

Toby shrugs. “Hey, I get it. I still hate that Claire’s nickname for me stuck.”

“You don’t hate me?” Mordred asks, glancing between his friends. “Not with everything I’ve done? You don’t think I’ll betray you?”

“Why would we?” Steve asks. “It wasn’t your fault. You literally told us that in a kind of depressing way. I know a therapist, she’s really nice.”

“But I didn’t know Merlin made, made me…” Douxie looks away, lowering his voice so it sounds less choked. “I thought I was dangerous, that I was a time bomb before I killed someone I cared about again. I thought it was something engrained into me by fate, not Merlin. And I didn’t tell any of you.”

“And I didn’t tell any of you that Merlin and the knights had a very specific vendetta against me and thus my very presence probably escalated at least one fight more than it needed to,” Zoe says as she rolls her eyes.

Douxie sighs, a very slight smile forming on his face. He doesn’t understand why his friends trust him, but he’s thankful that they do.

Krel’s phone buzzes right as he hangs up after talking to Eli about math and technology. Krel pulls it out of his pocket and unlocks it.

Oh. Right. Mordred got out of the hospital, and the others were going to check on him. There are updates from Zoe, Toby, and Steve. None of the updates ask why Krel wasn’t there. None of the updates are from Douxie. Which makes sense, considering that they aren’t on speaking terms. Krel hasn’t blocked Douxie’s number, not when Merlin is a threat.

According to Zoe, Mordred’s eyes are still just as hollow as they were yesterday. Krel wants to hug his soulmate, to hold him until the emptiness goes away. But Douxie had looked at Krel with a bored expression when Krel had claimed to never want to speak to Douxie again. Which means that Douxie doesn’t feel the same way about Krel. Yesterday was just a fluke. The aftereffects of possession, infection, losing a hand, and anything else that Merlin may have just caused Mordred to find a way to seek comfort out from any source, even if he normally wouldn’t want it. Mordred wasn’t actually taking comfort in Krel’s touch; it was just Krel’s wishful thinking.

Krel types out a quick question, one devoid of emotion but polite, the way his parents taught him to be with dignitaries. He then holds down the backspace button. As much as Krel wants to see if his soulmate is okay, he also wants an apology and an explanation from his ex.

Douxie has less than a day to recover when Merlin sends another enemy. An alert shows up on his phone. It takes far too many tries to unlock his phone; he really needs to change it to something that can be easily unlocked with one hand. When he finally unlocks it, he checks the location of the enemy. Afterwards Douxie shoves his phone in his pants pocket, grabs his keys, and runs out of his house.

He does technically know how to use a dagger with his left hand. But he’s never really liked doing so. He’s trained himself into ambidexterity, so he can cast spells with his left hand and wield a weapon with his right. But he can’t do that anymore. He has to make a choice.

Fire is out of the question, unless he wants to deal with a burning hoodie. Just using shielding spells isn’t going to be helpful.

Douxie stops, several feet away. It’s a swarm of small constructs. Zoe, Steve, and Toby are all trying to smack them. Krel is trying to shoot them with his serrator.

Zoe’s armor doesn’t contain a visor. She gets hit in the nose hard enough to bleed. Blood drips from her nose across her face and onto her armor. Onto her armored chest.

Mordred can’t breathe, not with the memories are overlaying themselves on top of the present. This is all his fault. They’re all going to die and it will be his fault just like it was Mordred’s fault when –

It hadn’t been Mordred’s fault, back then. It had been Merlin’s fault. Or at least, the only fault Mordred had was not fighting back hard enough. He has to fight back now.

Mordred exhales quietly before he bites his lip. He summons a dagger, and then summons four more. He inspects them, makes sure they have a soft blue glow and the crosspieces don’t resemble dragon wings at all. He then swings his left arm like he’s trying to throw something, and he sends his daggers into the fray. He is careful. He doesn’t want to hurt his friends.

Steve stumbles as a dagger takes down a construct about to attack him, but he smiles slightly as he turns towards Mordred. “Oh, huh, you can do that outside of being controlled.”

Douxie tries not to wince.

Parry. Weave. Misdirect. Trying to focus on five different daggers gives him a headache that still doesn’t make him feel real. It doesn’t matter though. His friends are getting hurt less. And he will make whatever needed sacrifice to protect him.

He can see a construct trying to sneak up on him of the corner of his eye. He ignores it. He needs to keep his friends safe. It jumps, ready to pounce, and he does not flinch away because he needs to protect his friends.

The construct is consumed by cyan light. Douxie looks up, and his lips part slightly in a gasp. For the briefest of moments, Krel looks concerned. He then catches Douxie staring and looks away.

Right. They’re in the middle of a fight. But despite everything, Krel might still care about Douxie, or at least, not hate Douxie enough to let him be injured.

Parry. Slash. Stab. The fight finishes more quickly than started. Zoe’s nose is finally starting to clot, and she uses her water magic to clean the blood off of herself. Removing the armor means there isn’t much blood on her clothes. It still looks gruesome. Steve offers her a ride to patch up her face at his house, which she accepts. Toby needs to help his Nana. Krel starts to slowly walk away without a word.

Douxie wants to go home, to avoid everyone. But guilt gnaws at him, and so he jogs over to Krel.

“Can we talk?” Mordred asks, trying to make sure he doesn’t sound pushy, because he doesn’t deserve this.

Krel gives him a long look before speaking. “Sure. Let’s go to my house.”

Krel unlocks the door and steps inside, holding the door open for Douxie while shooing off the Blanks. He does not need Lucy to sharpen her paring knives or Ricky to practice juggling objects heavy enough to crush a human skull while Krel talks to his ex.

They sit on opposite sides of the couch. Krel folds both pairs of hands in his lap. Douxie is about to wrap his arms around his torso, left arm protectively folded on top of his right, but he then presses them to his sides instead.

“So. Talk.” Krel’s voice comes out harsher than he intends. He really needs to get better at talking to people.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you, when I found out that you’re my soulmate,” Mordred says. “And this isn’t an excuse or a justification for how I treated you, because I shouldn’t have, but please let me explain myself.”

Krel nods slightly.

“I… ever since before I was born,” Mordred says shakily, “there was a prophecy where I would kill my father. I didn’t want to kill him, but one day I suddenly was forced to do so, and I didn’t know why. And so, I rationalized it as that for some reason, the forces of fate hated me and wanted me to kill everyone I love. And it was really Merlin manipulating me all along, but I didn’t know that. So, I assumed that fate would make me kill my soulmate. And I was thankful, when I realized that my soulmate wasn’t human, because I thought that the chances of me meeting him, well, you, were so low that I wouldn’t have to worry about pushing… you away to keep you safe. And then I met you, and up until you told us about your soulmate, I just hoped that my soulmate was literally any other Akiridion. But then I found out the truth, and I was so scared I was going to kill you. I didn’t want to hurt you, so I pushed you away.”

Wait… Douxie loves Krel? Mordred loves Krel back?

Douxie gives a wet chuckle. He blinks harshly, like that will stop the tears from forming in his hollow eyes. Like he doesn’t want Krel to pity him, or for his tears to influence Krel. “I really didn’t think that through. Pushing you away that is. Because yeah, I was avoiding killing you. Or at least, trying to. But I still hurt you. And I’m sorry. I was wrong, and not just because it was Merlin controlling me instead of pure fate, but because I should have told you why. And you don’t need to forgive me, and I completely understand. I’m, uh, I can go now, and we can continue not speaking to each other if you want. Thanks for hearing me out, though.”

Douxie rises from the couch.

Krel has wanted three things ever since he found out that Douxie is Mordred: an explanation, an apology, and his soulmate. He has two of them, and he doesn’t want to let the third go.

Krel inhales, sharp and loud, and grabs Douxie’s hand between both of his lower ones. Krel then cradles his soulmate’s face with his upper pair of hands, using his thumbs to brush away Mordred’s tears.

“I love you, too,” Krel says. “Never lie to me again.”

Mordred smiles a half-overjoyed, half-broken smile. “I can do that.”

Krel hugs Douxie as he starts sobbing into Krel’s chest. Krel might shed a couple relieved tears as well.

When Douxie shows his face again, his eyes seem just a little less hollow.

Krel loves Douxie, and mostly forgives him. This keeps Mordred feeling buoyant and more tethered to his own body than he has felt ever since Merlin forced the amulet upon him. That evening, Douxie still feels rather real as he walks into Zimue Records, where Zoe is finishing up her shift. She asked him to come around at the end. If he squints, he can see faint bruises on her nose.

She pulls an amulet out her pocket, and Douxie’s regained sense of reality fades away once more. It is the same amulet that Merlin created out of Douxie’s hand, but the crystal inside of it is utterly clear.

“You didn’t destroy it?” he asks. He digs his nails into his palm as a twofold task: not hyperventilating and maybe regaining a sense of reality. He manages the former.

“Archie showed me how to take Merlin’s magic out of it,” Zoe says. “It has your hand in it, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking that, well, since your hand’s in it, I could use both of our magic to turn it into a prosthetic. It won’t be able to summon the full armor, but hey, the armor made you look like you still had both hands.”

“Merlin could take control of me again!”

“I won’t let him.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I… look. I don’t want you hurt again, and if you don’t want me to do this then that’s fine, but you’re my best friend and I want to help you. And if something goes wrong and Merlin manages to control you again – and I’d take precautions to make sure he can’t – I will save you.”

“If you need to, you should kill me.”

Zoe’s eyes widen. “What? No!”

“Zoe, I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I kill someone under Merlin’s control again. I’m not fully sure how I lived with myself after Camlann and coming to Arcadia.”

“Okay. But understand that killing you would be the last resort. And that we might have a hard time living with ourselves if we were to have killed you.”

“I understand. But, what are your plans for the prosthetic? And can you make it look a little less like armor I would’ve designed when I was eight?”

“So, after he lied to you, you got back together?” Aja scrunches her face as she says this.

“Yes, I’ve explained this to you multiple times.” Krel had almost immediately tried to call his sister and tell her the good news about him and his soulmate. She had called him back with surprising speed. He’s starting to regret it now.

“I don’t think you should.”

“Unlike you, my boyfriend has never caused an injury to my sibling, which means that you don’t get to lecture me.” She flinches slightly at his statement.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I… look, I gave him an ultimatum. I can handle myself. How have you been?”

“Um. Fine.”

“Aja, I know you’re lying. What’s wrong?”

Aja mumbles something.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Krel says.

“I met my soulmate today.” The words rush out of her. She doesn’t sound happy. “Or, well, I found her name.”

“And?”

“She’s a Taylon. Much better than average at shooting, slightly worse than average at hand-to-hand combat. Her name was on a list of Taylon soldiers in training who were vetted as loyal.”

“I mean, that’s good. Does she know about you?”

Aja rolls her eyes. “She has my name on her wrist, just like I have hers on mine. I think she knows that I’m her soulmate.”

“I mean, have you talked to her?”

“Krel, I can’t. You know, I was jealous of you, growing up. There was a chance that you might get to have a relationship with your soulmate – and obviously I didn’t think your relationship would be so complicated, but you’d still get to have one. Mama and Papa would have never let me. I think they’d approve more of me and Steve, and well… I’m not sure how they would’ve felt about him. I mean, you didn’t like him at first. Ugh, I’m not even sure how to tell Steve about my soulmate.”

“Again, Steve punched me! Plus, I hadn’t found anything that made Earth worthwhile yet. But, I don’t think Mama and Papa would want you to be unhappy.” Even if they probably would’ve wanted to uphold the caste system. “So, you should probably talk to her and Steve, without caring what others think.”

Aja sighs. “Since when are you smart?”

“I always have been!”

“I meant about emotions. But also, the offer is still open to beat up your boyfriend if he hurts you again.”

Krel rolls his eyes as Aja transitions into talking about something funny Luug did.

Mordred takes his sword, and he stabs it directly through Krel’s core. A grin forms on Mordred’s face as he twists the sword. He grabs Krel’s shoulder for leverage as he then rips the sword out of the wound. The sword disappears, and suddenly Mordred is made very aware of what he has done, what he has been forced to do. He holds Krel to his chest and presses a hand to the exit wound on Krel’s back, trying to stop the blood from flowing out of Krel’s body and soaking into Mordred’s clothes. Redness stains across Krel’s body as he becomes limper and heavier in Mordred’s arms. Mordred stammers out apologies and pleas for Krel to live. The scent of iron burns his nose. He doesn’t know how to heal Krel, he doesn’t know how to fix this, this is all Mordred’s fault and Krel didn’t deserve any of this.

Krel dies in his arms, and a mournful wail breaks free from Mordred’s lips.

With a scream that could shatter glass, Douxie wakes up in his own bed, tangled in his sheets and soaked in his own sweat. While it is too cool of a liquid and it doesn’t have the same scent, the sweat feels too much like blood, and he is tempted to go take a shower and scrub until his skin is raw, but he left a window open and for once, a cold night breeze is blowing. He doesn’t want to have to leave the warmth of his bed. He fumbles around his nightstand for his phone and unlocks it, thankful that he has changed the pattern to something more accessible. It’s 1:03 AM. Without thinking, he calls Krel.

Krel picks up on the second ring. “Douxie?”

“Sorry I woke you,” Douxie says, suddenly realizing that he had been hyperventilating. He tries to banish the image of Krel bleeding out from his mind.

“Bold of you to assume I even need sleep.” Douxie is pretty sure Krel does need sleep, but he is too panicked to state this. “Are you okay.”

“I…” Douxie wants to lie and say it’s nothing, but he needs to be honest with Krel. “I had a nightmare. I killed you, and there was so much blood, and I just wanted to hear your voice to make sure you were okay.”

In the background, Douxie can hear Krel drum his fingers on the table, like he’s trying to think of something to say. “In your dream, what color was my blood?”

“What? Um, it was red.”

“And what form was I in?”

“Akiridion.”

“I don’t have blood as an Akiridion, and as a human my blood is cyan. So, next time you dream about my red and bloody death, hopefully you’ll remember that and realize it’s not real.” The reminder isn’t that comforting; the fact that Krel is trying to be comforting is.

They end up talking until it’s around 3 AM and even Krel has to acknowledge that he needs sleep.

Their first date after they get back together ends up being at the same coffee shop as their first one was. It’s louder this time and there’s more people, which is annoying. Still, they’re able to tuck themselves into a corner, even if they end up having to press against each other. Which isn’t bad, but there is a slight electric feeling to it that distracts Krel. It’s less intense and more comforting than the first time they held hands, but there’s more surface area.

“Did you know that our friends made a bet over whether or not we would get together?” Krel says. Mordred nearly chokes on his chai.

“Technically,” Krel continues, “Toby and Zoe never agreed to it, but they did speculate about us with Steve.”

“Hmm,” Douxie says, having recovered. “I wonder if they’re speculating about whether or not we got back together.”

“Should we tell them?”

“Not our fault those three are oblivious at times.”

Everyone is crowded around Zoe’s kitchen table. Her idea of collaborating on the prosthetic really boiled down to Douxie pumping magic into the amulet and giving design tips, and then her shooing him off. He’s used to it, considering how she is every single time there’s a group project assigned by one of their teachers at the Academy. Mostly used to it, considering that ever since the two of them joined the independent study track at the start of their junior year they haven’t ever had a group project, just homework they’d work on and gripe about together.

Zoe brings out the reconstructed amulet. The stone is now two separate swirling shades of blue; Douxie’s pale blue and Zoe’s cerulean blue. The hands are now daggers instead of wings. The amulet is attached to a black glove.

“Uh, Zoe?” Douxie says. “If I’m not mistaken, if an ornament is attached to a glove, then it goes on the back of the hand. Which means that that’s a glove that goes on the right hand, which, well…”

Zoe and Archie narrow their eyes in unison.

“Just put it on your right arm and twist the amulet clockwise,” she says. Douxie does as told. The amulet glows, and the glove turns to blue light. Metal shoots out from the amulet and forms a gauntlet. It looks like the armor his father, mother, and da both wore, aside from the fact that there’s an amulet and Mordred’s is completely black.

“You’ll probably have to wear a sock under it, to keep your skin from being damaged when the weather gets extreme, like when it’s really hot or the rare occasion that it’s really cold,” Zoe says. Douxie cringes at the idea of another source of cold. “Anyways, can you do a hand gesture or something, to make sure you can use your fingers?”

He feels clumsy. There’s a slight strain on his magic as he tries to correct the clumsiness. Douxie sticks his tongue out as he sticks his thumb, index, and pinky fingers up while curling his middle and ring fingers inward, much to Steve and Toby’s frustration.

Douxie has started working at the bookstore once more, and Krel is hanging out with his boyfriend. It’s nice and quiet. Then again, Krel’s pretty sure the bookstore only gets a few more customers than Stuart’s Electronics. Douxie is sweeping while listening to music on his headphones; Krel is looking at books and rolling his eyes at what random humans think the mystical secrets of the universe are. According to Douxie, only a third of the books here hold actual magical truths and the rest are new age material. The book that Krel is reading almost certainly falls into the latter category.

Krel puts the book back, an idea coming to him. He clears his throat. “Can you kiss me?”

Douxie takes off one headphone; Krel can hear his boyfriend’s music blaring through it. Krel will readily admit, metal growls and yelling about death aren’t his thing, when it comes to music, and this song is doing precisely that. “Did you say something?”

“Can you kiss me?”

Douxie’s face turns a shade of red similar to Toby’s sweater. His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeak. “I mean, I can but why? Uh, that came out wrong. I just, you never really indicated that you wanted to and I’m going to shut up now.”

Krel walks up to him. Embarrassingly enough, his voice is almost as awkwardly squeaky. “Scientific research? On kissing that is? I mean, unless you don’t want to, I was just wondering.”

Douxie cups Krel’s cheek with his left hand and kisses him. It’s an awkward feeling, but it’s nice.

Douxie then pulls back and looks away. Apparently it is possible for Douxie’s face to get even redder. Krel glances towards one of the bookstore’s reflective surfaces and realizes that his own face has a heavy cyan blush.

“So, um, how was that?” Douxie asks.

“Okay,” Krel says, “but inconclusive. I think I’ll need to perform more research.”

Douxie rolls his eyes, his blush receding by a small fraction. “You know, if you want to kiss me more, you don’t have to frame it as scientific research.”

“If I carve something into the prosthetic, will it damage it?” Mordred asks. The two of them are on their lunch break from their respective jobs at the books store and the record store. Zoe raises her eyebrows.

“I made it scuff proof.”

“Oh. Well. Darn.”

“You know, if you wanted it to have carvings, you should’ve told me before I made it.”

“I didn’t think of it until late last night?” It had been really late, considering that Mordred had been kept up by his brain replaying the memories of yesterday’s kiss.

Zoe groans. “What do you want carved into your prosthetic?”

“Krel’s name. I know I hid it before, but I regret doing so now.”

“Oh.”

“And, like, if that’s not possible it’s fine. I can just use markers or something until I can save up for a tattoo.”

“I’m guessing you don’t know any embroidery?”

“I know some. Oh, don’t give me that surprised look. You were a literal blacksmith in your first life, so you should know that gender roles in Camelot weren’t as strict as most of Europe.”

“I’ve got some enchanted thread. You can embroider Krel’s name into the glove, and then it shouldn’t be hard to make it engraved in the gauntlet.”

Merlin sent constructs to two different areas, so Krel and Mordred are alone with a pair of constructs that look disturbingly like overgrown soolians with extra-long legs.

There’s something different about Douxie. Krel can’t figure out what, though. Granted, he’s using a different fighting style than usual. He’s holding a dagger in his right hand and manipulating a cloud of daggers with his left. But that doesn’t feel like it’s it.

Krel blinks and focuses on fighting the constructs. As he slices the head off of one, he tries not to wince as the other one bites down on Douxie’s right arm. The dagger cloud stabs into the other construct’s eyes, and it crumbles. Krel helps to pry apart the constructs jaws so that Mordred can get his arm out.

“I’ve got bandages at my apartment,” Douxie says through gritted teeth. He takes his hoodie off of his left arm and awkwardly wraps it around his right arm to stem the bleeding for now..

“Do you need any help?” Krel asks.

“I can take care of myself, but I’d appreciate it.”

The walk back is thankfully a short one. Douxie hisses as he pulls off his hoodie. “First aid kit’s under the bathroom sink.”

Douxie turns on the water as Krel reaches underneath. As Krel stands up and opens the kit, Douxie rolls up his sleeve and sticks his injured arm under the faucet.

“So, what do you want me to do?” Krel asks.

“See the tape?” Douxie says as he dries off his arm. “I’m going to put gauze on the bite holes; could you please tape them in place?”

Krel undoes the roll of tape and cringes at the stickiness. The two of them tape up Douxie’s injuries, starting with the upper arm and working down. Krel finishes taping up the last of the injuries when something on inside of the wrist of the gauntlet catches his eyes. It’s an engraving that softly glows with the same blue light of the amulet.

“You carved my name into it?” Krel says. Douxie smiles sheepishly.

“I, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but yeah. Is that okay? I can undo it if you’d rather me not have.”

“Yeah, just, I didn’t think you really wanted a soulmate?”

“I… no, I didn’t. But after Merlin told me the truth, I realized that having a soulmate wouldn’t have been so bad. And even if I got to choose who I wanted to be my soulmate; I think I still would’ve chosen you.”

Krel beams before kissing his soulmate on the forehead.

Author's note: If you liked this, please reblog and/or go to one of the links and leave a comment! I worked very hard on this so I hope you enjoyed reading it.

[thechosenferret]

Of Course It’s Precious Potter - Chapter 3

This chapter is dedicated to @scarheaded-ferret for his birthday! You are such an incredible person, and I hope you enjoy your next year of life! <3

Summary: Draco has been tasked to steal a possession from precious Prince Potter. Little does he know, that's only a small test for what they need done next. Well, that is if Draco can carry it out to the end.

You can also read it on ao3 under the username TheChosenFerret (there’s a link in my bio, I don’t trust tumblr with links in original posts), or through my tag #Of Course it’s Precious Potter

一一一一一一一一

As the day progressed, Harry couldn’t get the nagging thought out of his head that perhaps his mind hadn’t entirely made up the blond stranger. With would be a lovely thought if it meant that he could see him again, but there was still the tiny problem that their first meeting was… technically due to trespassing. 

Harry didn’t give a thought to why exactly he was trespassing until he made his way to his dresser. Every year, Harry sees the same items on that dresser. Every week, Harry cleans those same items on that dresser. Every day, Harry picks up one specific item on that dresser. Today, however, it was gone. Gone except the letter he carefully kept secret underneath it, which could only mean three things. One, someone knew about the letter. Two, someone purposely left the letter. Three, the blond man must of stolen his dad’s trophy. 

Fuck. 

Of course the trespassing man had to commit another crime at the same time. 

Of course the trespassing, stealing man had to purposely not steal what was now the last remaining artifact of his parents. Harry didn’t know whether to count this man as a complete fool, report him immediately to the watchmen, or send him a thank you card. Of course, reporting him to the watchmen would mean giving up the letter for investigation and to “protect the past King and Queen’s treasures,” aka lock them up until they rot away, so that was clearly not an option. All that’s left is that the man is a fool who should be thanked, which could only be done if he made the foolish decision to strike again. 

He could strike again, actually. Seeing as he left behind the letter, someone may of been just as pissed off as Harry was happy. 

In that case, Harry went to collect his parent’s letter like always, but instead of reading it before immediately hiding it again, he brought it over to his desk, where he placed it next to him so he can protect it better, then began to write letter to the blond man. After a few drafts, he finally felt okay enough with it, and went to leave it in the middle of the room upside down with the words “To The Blond” written as big as possible on the back. 

Feeling the day catch up to him at last, Harry collected his parent’s letter and made his way to the bed, where he read through the it from the light of the one candle left still lit in his room. He then carefully placed it on a pillow next to him that he is certain will not be harmed if he were to roll over in the middle of the night before blowing out the flame and finally going to sleep. 

一一一一一一一一

Following the same path that he took last night, Draco scaled up the castle, steadied a rope to a mini cross lined up across the roof, and made his way down the chimney into the now unfortunately too familiar, dusty fireplace. The only thing that was different now was the one piece of trash among the nearly spotless room. Draco ignored the item and surveyed the room, trying to get into the mind of such a Posh Prince to see where he might hide his oh so important diary. 

On the bookcase? Although the room is pristine, the bookcase feels like it hasn’t been touched in ages. In the drawer under his bedside table? Draco carefully made his way closer to the table, and therefore the stupid prince. He looked so… not idiotic while asleep, even slightly peaceful. Draco snapped himself out of his thoughts as he turned his attention back to the table and, subsequently, the drawer that was lacking a diary. 

Draco continued his search by checking the other drawers in the room, where the most interesting thing he saw was a hairbrush, but yet no journal. Not wanting to be out in the open for too long, Draco made his way back to the fireplace, but not before stopping in the middle of the room with that stupid piece of trash. The stupid piece of trash that was addressed to a blond. Merlin, of course Potter had seen him. And to make it worse, he wrote him a letter. Curiously, Draco picked it up and started to read it as he very slowly walked back to the fireplace. Potter wanted to meet up with him. And doesn’t despise him? That idiot. He’d guess the prince was all self-righteous and forgiving, but he never expected to be on the receiving side of it. 

He paced the room without care as he read the letter again and again, only stopping when his brain started to think about how he must of written this tonight, which means that he probably used his desk tonight seeing as the paper didn’t show signs of being written without a solid surface behind it, therefore maybe he regularly uses his desk, so perhaps he has actually used the books stacked on his desk. During all this time of snooping, Draco thought the pile of books was just for decoration to act like he studies. 

Draco put his letter in his pocket and began to sort through the books. Introduction to Finances? Nope. Full History of 1660 to 1666… Aha! An unmarked book with handwritten entries dating back to 10 years ago. And to further prove his point, the handwriting is very close to the one shown on his letter. Bingo! Not wanting to risk Harry seeing him for what now would be the third time, Draco slipped back out with the diary, totally not glancing at Harry one last time before leaving. 

一一一一一一一一

Draco continued his route to the meeting spot by rooftop, not wanting to deal with scaling back down quite yet. As he walked and jumped, all his thoughts kept tracing back to that damn letter. That letter and the diary that featured what he can only guess is all the minor inconveniences for such a rich and loved guy such as Potter. Which means that it really wouldn’t be horrible to read some of it. Plus, he should double check that this contains the prince’s thoughts, and not some rando’s diary the prince somehow has saved. So, Draco was legally obligated to read it. 

Draco made his way over to the meeting spot and found a nice spot on the roof where he can lean against a half wall, but could still perfectly see the sun when it rises. The client can wait a few more hours for me to double check this purchase. Can’t give away faulty merchandize after all.  So he read. And read. And read. 

The journal wasn’t contains of minor inconveniences at all. Actually, they were very major problems. Why hadn’t this idiot told someone about this before? That cupboard. His family. Merlin. Draco couldn’t let this get out to some second hand thief, not that it was any better that he’d done it. There must be some reason he’s been keeping it out of the public’s eye for so long… which means that Draco’s going to have to make sure that this book stays a secret. One stupid letter and all the sudden he’s helping people, all thanks to that idiot Potter. 

Draco hid the journal in his jacket and made his way down the building and to the market. He had to look into a lot of stores to find one that has someone in it, let alone is selling empty journals, but at long last he found it. He got the smallest one (both to help out on cash but also so he can fill it up faster), then bought a quill and ink and made his way back to the roof to start his work. 

He wrote until the sun finally did rise, but he managed to create a diary full of minor inconveniences that seemed close enough to reality to be believable. To finish it off, Draco scrawled the words “Harry James Potter’s Personal Journal” on the front. It pained him to have to try to recreate the messy handwriting of Potters, but he feels like he’d pulled it off with flying colors—maybe his cousin was right about how he should go into forgery. 

Worried about stalling any more, Draco hide the real diary and letter on the roof, and made his way down the building. He threw on his “I just pulled off a successful heist” face just as the same man from the previous night appeared from behind a wall. Silently, he handed over the replicated diary, choosing to not speak even when he guy walked away and said “Well contact your family again soon” for fear of having his voice betray his thoughts, all of which were along the lines of fuck.

一一一一一一一一

Taglist: @devilrising @sweetlialia @ladyseidenlocke 

[unfortunatelysirius]

╰☆☆ ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝔾𝕀ℝ𝕃𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 ☆☆╮ [Sirius Black – Marauders Era] [Part 14]

Previous Installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

╰❂╮ prompt ╰❂╮ ☾ ¡Original! ☾ With the perpetrator on their tail, and Sirius’s prejudices no longer something that can be ignored, relationships shatter and a safe way out is near unimaginable. ╰❂╮ author’s note ╰❂╮ Sorry this is so, so late. I hope the installment is to your satisfaction. AND IM SORRY IT’S SO SHORT BUT PLS, FEEDBACK WOULD BE APPRECIATED AND I��LL BE MORE PROMPT ON UPDATES. Will be updating Chocolate Frogs and Love Notes soon. Tell me if you want added to any of my tag-lists! ╰❂╮ warnings ╰❂╮ Angst, Swearing, Violence ╰❂╮ word count ╰❂╮ 2043 ╰❂╮ tag-list ╰❂╮ @kapolisradomthoughts @rageofcaliban @saucyleftovers @bunnymother93 @siriuslyr5 @apareciumimagines  @random-quartz @ruefulposts @seabasstiantrash @starlightspidey @pinkettepoet @peppermintspecks @jiongyongguk​ @bethanystan​ @raindancer2004​ @where-are-my-gummy-bears​ @cutebutnotinorcent​

           IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT, and a disturbing sort of cold Y/N thought she might never experience in her lifetime, shivers up and down her spine within the dark, suffocating corridor. The stars were like silver dewdrops splattered across the navy sky, visible through each old window’s silhouette littered around the castle; with every passing step, Y/N caught another glimpse of Nature’s finest canvas. She was curled into Sirius’s side, squished between his subtly muscled body and James’s near-identical shape, both Remus and Peter trailing the three of them by seconds. It was reminiscent of times that seemed so far away.

         Y/N thought it was all too good to be true. Everything, from her and Sirius falling back into same-old, same-old routine like they’d never left the honeymoon phase to James looking quite sullen compared to his usual upbeat, enthusiastic self. She wondered if it was all a twist on reality to make her think things were fine when really, Sirius wasn’t anywhere near, James still hated her, and the Marauders were leading her somewhere to hex and discard their latest “conquest.”  It made all the more sense the longer she thought about it, but thoughts of the way Sirius felt—flesh, bone, whole—made her realize she was daft, and just a little bit mad.

         He was so obviously here, a living, breathing wonder, and she was trying to make it a mirage. She wanted it that way.

         Or maybe she’d just went long enough with things going wrong that miracles seemed far too good to be true.

         “I have to meet with Regulus,” murmured Y/N into the quiet air, after the silence became a tad bit too smothering. She was also alert of her own negligence, from her delirious daze to her angry soul’s demands for an apology, as Sirius’s arm looped around her became a bone-crushing reality. Not so much a reality she craved anymore, but one that needed multiple bandages slapped across it; the Muggle way of rekindling old flames and licked wounds. Y/N was beginning to grow agitated and nervous, as this reality crushed down on her. As her newly-put-together world fell apart in the wake of unanswered questions. “He—wants to help. He thinks I was Obliviated.”

         Sirius glanced down at her, looking unsure, his own face not betraying the inner turmoil running their world ragged. The two of them didn’t know how to approach their current problem, the one that kept them from falling together as happy memories asked them to; Y/N was afraid of what lay in wait, Sirius’s admittance that he thought so lowly of her that for even a millisecond he thought she might have been a slag, and Sirius dreaded the moment he had to let his betrayal out into the open. Neither of them were willing to ruin their reconciliation by simple, trivial ire, the kind that winded up someone alone and heartbroken, the kind that could get anyone and everyone hurt.

         Even the most painful of thoughts were best kept internalized, if it meant staying locked tight in a dream.

         Even now, the two of them were so different. Differences Y/N once overlooked in favor of what made them compatible.  

“Regulus doesn’t care about anyone except for himself,” Sirius snapped at Y/N, the three Marauders looking nervous in anticipation for the argument to come. “He’s a Slytherin. The bloody git is tricking you.”

         “How the fuck would you know?” Y/N was never one for confrontation. This was all new territory. She was tired, and depressed, and dying of questions; she loved Sirius, she did, but he was still the prejudiced, arrogant prat he was before they started dating. He’d always hate Slytherins because he grew up in a world full of snakes that rejected him for being who he was, and maybe that was a drawn line for why they weren’t meant to last. He was the charismatic, hateful railroad tycoon, and she was his subdued wife that tiptoed around his temper. Stupid, foolish—she was letting herself use another goddamned Muggle analogy—Americanized, no less. Maybe Y/N was running low on a lucid mind as much as she was excuses.

         He knows nothing about Regulus, she thought anyway, looking into those silver grey eyes she’d always loved. Sirius didn’t. He refused to talk to his brother; maybe Regulus was growing into himself and losing that part of him that preened and prawned from pleasing his parents. If he was scared, if he was determined to find the truth because he wanted to sabotage dark plans, he never once betrayed it. But deep down, there was nothing else rational to explain his motivations, and Y/N knew he was a scared little boy afraid the monsters would someday catch up to him—

And they’d eat him alive like all wolves just so happen to do.

“Regulus is your brother,” continued Y/N. “He doesn’t want to be part of whatever it is your parents do. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You didn’t grow up with him. You didn’t see him do nothing when his brother was lying on the ground, with their father standing above him,” seethed Sirius. “Don’t act like you know him; you sure as hell don’t.”

Y/N felt like crying, as she wrenched herself away from Sirius’s warm, comforting embrace. “Don’t act like you know me,” she spat. Sirius’s jaw fell downwards, a flicker of hurt flitting across his face. “Go mope in your dorm. I’m getting down to the bottom of this, with or without you.”

Sirius was silent. Y/N continued to watch him, imploring him to say something, wishing he wouldn’t just let her leave. If she left, she could get hurt, and Sirius wouldn’t be her knight in shining armor. They went so long in turmoil that Y/N wanted there to be some sort of compromise; if they could argue and fight for so long, the two a mess with their friends on the fence on how to fix them, then they sure as hell could be soft and melted together, too. Maybe they were different, maybe Sirius couldn’t let his old ways go, but truth be told—Y/N always wanted to show him a new perspective.

She’d tried doing that before things went wrong.

“Really, Sirius?” she said now, staring brokenly at him. “We could finally figure this out, and you’re backing down? Really?”

“Whoever’s done this is dangerous,” Sirius told her. His voice had lost all its shake, all its fury, rendered a new sort of mellow Y/N had hardly ever seen from him. He looked like he itched to hold her and reassure he was just an asshat, but his asshat ways betrayed none of his true love for her, or his need to protect her. None, nada, zilch: right? He was a teenage boy, a prat, but he didn’t mean anything out of his pathetically unfiltered mouth. “I want you safe, Y/N. We should leave this to the professors.”        

Those words were foreign out of his mouth. Y/N took a heavy breath and she said, “Sirius, do you even hear yourself? Merlin, what’s happened to you?”

“What’s happened to me? Me?” Sirius’s laugh was humorless. “You’re bloody mad.”

“Sirius, Y/N, this isn’t the best time,” said Remus, looking between the two with apprehension.

“This is the best time, Remus,” Y/N said, refusing to look at any of them. She knew Peter was fidgeting; she knew James was gap-mouthed like a pufferfish; she knew Remus was trying to hide his trepidation. She knew Sirius was silently seething. All of them, they weren’t clearly thinking. They didn’t have their nerves together. Y/N was terrified that solving the bottom of the mystery would never come if they fell apart before they came together. But Y/N could no longer go on if her experience with the love of her life was only going to be heartache and pain, two things she had felt since coming to this God-awful school.

You’re not any better than him, thought Y/N, her brain suddenly going to Ashton. He was dead, and she’d never get to see him again; she’d never get to tell him she was sorry, that she never meant to use him, that he was someone she came to love in her desperation to feel. He taught her about love. He taught her that it was okay to be without for a little while because wholes always regain their lost pieces. Maybe he threw her into an abyss after he broke her heart that left her sad and lost of all hope, but now, with her head on her shoulders again, she could safely say he taught her a lot—yet she gained nothing.

Y/N was happy with Sirius, but he did not teach her anything. He was a fun partner in crime, but when it truly came down to life lessons, he wasn’t a teacher; he was along for the ride, a mere passenger in a bus packed to the brim with faces from the crowd.

Standing in the hallway, letting these thoughts wash over her, Y/N could not do this anymore. She needed to find Regulus and reach the climax of this game. Someone was toying with her and her feelings, and if she didn’t put a stop to it, if she didn’t find a way to draw the villain out and stifle the madness, there was no way for her to get peace—and she’d stay stuck in an endless cycle of being a living ghost.

“I can’t anymore, Sirius,” whispered Y/N. “I can’t.”

She turned around and ran.

The Marauders watched after her, one looking horrified, two looking shocked, and the one this mattered to most—he looked heartbroken.

And none of them even bothered to go after her, as the guilt sunk in and they realized—

Was the love-potion maker truly the villain? Or was it them?

-

Y/N had stopped running after reaching the fourth corridor. She eventually stopped walking altogether. Her pace slowed until it was nonexistent, her harsh, shaking breaths fell into soundless sniffs, her erratic thoughts slowly but surely came to a close. All she could think about now was Regulus, who was waiting at the library for her presence. And that half-blurry, half-familiar memory of a white-haired girl in the very same forest Y/N was in herself

Y/N knew it mattered. She knew she’d been Obliviated, and she was foolish not to go to Headmaster Dumbledore for help in retrieving her memories… but she was a foolish girl, and foolish girls wanted to figure out mysteries by themselves.

“I’m a bloody fool,” mumbled Y/N to herself, clutching her head like that would heal all trace of confusion, as well as her sadness. It wouldn’t, but it felt like it did—so Y/N continued to grope at her temples and scalp. The corridor echoed with spooky creaks and even spookier whistles. Y/N felt regret seep into her bones, as she realized she was still a bit of ways away from the library—and she was totally, utterly, completely alone.

Y/N heard someone laugh.

“You are a bloody fool,” they said.

Out from the end of the corridor emerged a girl, whose entire face and hair were obscured by shadows—but the pretty little patch on her robes had a snake on them. Y/N knew it was a Slytherin. But all she saw was the patch, as her body and face were near invisible—and even then, the patch’s emblazoning was blurry to her. She felt her head grow light, her eyes squinting to see within the darkness. She was so caught in looking at the patch to even pay any regard to the words the stranger spoke or the wand as it lifted, pointing right at Y/N’s chest.

“Who are—”

The girl flicked her wrist. “Stupefy,” she said.

Suddenly Y/N was knocked off her feet by a powerful spell, the backlash sending her head cracking against the corridor wall, rendering her immobile and near-unconscious.

She felt her body crumble, but only half of the way—a steady stream of numbness shooting through her like lightning.

         The stranger walked up, a laugh emptying from her mouth.

“Got you!” the girl sang happily.

That was when things went black.

[itsyourchoice-hp]

Year 2: Staff Meeting

Cath realized on Saturday afternoon that she hadn’t seen her brother since his incident in Care of Magical Creatures class. It was strange not to see him with Harry, Ron and Hermione during lunch or study breaks. He was no doubt still sulking nursing his “injury.” Draco certainly had a talent for being dramatic.

She began packing up her schoolbag in the Common Room, deciding to go see if he was in the Great Hall doing homework. Ginny looked up from her copy of the Daily Prophet and frowned.

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“I’m going to see if I can find Draco,” Cath replied. “We had a bit of a row when he was in the Hospital Wing and I haven’t talked to him since.”

“You two are so strange,” Ginny remarked. “We fight all the time in my family, and we are usually back to normal after about five minutes. Except Ron of course.”

“We all know he’s got a terrible temper,” George teased.

Ron reached over from the chair beside him and gave George a whack on the head with a rolled up bit of parchment.

“Case in point,” Harry grinned.

They laughed as Ron rolled his eyes. Cath stood up and departed from the group. Before she could push the portrait open to leave the Common Room, Hermione appeared at her side, grabbing her arm to stop her.

“Cath, would you er-let me know how he’s doing?” she asked in a low voice, trying to sound nonchalant.

Cath wasn’t quite sure why Hermione was acting so strange about it.

“Sure I can,” she replied. “Is everything alright?”

Hermione glanced to where Ron, Harry, Ginny, Fred and George were seated. “Draco and I sort of had a row as well. I don’t think he understands that Hagrid has the best intentions. And he sort of accused me of taking Harry’s side in it.”

“He said the same thing to me too,” Cath assured her. “He’ll come around like he always does. I’ll come find you when I’m back.

Hermione thanked her before returning to their friends and Cath left the Common Room, hoping she wouldn’t have to make conversation with Sir Cadogan on her way out. When the portrait swung open from the inside, Cath saw Neville waiting to get in, a look of frustration and dismay on his face.

“Thank Merlin,” he said when he saw Cath. “I’ve been trying to get in for nearly an hour!”

“Did you forget the password?” Cath asked him.

“No,” Neville replied. “He’s changed it again!"

“It is my duty to protect Gryffindor House at all costs! I would sooner die before I let some mangy murderer into this castle…” Sir Cadogan said, brandishing his sword and flailing it around threateningly.

Neville showed Cath the piece of parchment he had in his hand. “I’ve written down all the passwords. This is just from this past week!”

“Give him a break,” Cath said to Sir Cadogan. “Can’t you see he’s a Gryffindor? He’s got his house colours on!”

“You aren’t brave enough to face me!” he said. “Come duel me, if you really want to get inside.”

“The password is Codswallops, last time I went in,” Cath said to Neville. She looked back to Sir Cadogan, who was trying to kick his fat pony into a canter.

“Codswallops!” Neville exclaimed.

Sir Cadogan reluctantly sheathed his sword and swung open. Neville sighed in relief. “Thanks Cath,” he said. “I owe you one! I can’t forget to write that one down.”

“No problem,” she replied. She continued down the hallway and down a few flights of stairs until she reached the Great Hall. The portraits on the walls were still talking about the events last night. A few of them stopped her to ask if she had heard anything.

“I heard he has red eyes!” said a portrait of a woman hanging sheets on a clothesline to the portrait next to her, of a wizard brewing a black bubbling potion.

Cath couldn’t help but look over her shoulder every once in a while. She wanted to believe that Hogwarts was safe, but it was hard not to feel afraid when so many rumours were still circulating about Sirius Black.

Sure enough, Draco was sitting in the Great Hall at the table where Slytherins usually sat during meals, with a group of his friends around him. Cath recognized Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle right away, as Cath and Draco’s parents were longtime friends with Vincent and Gregory’s. There was also a girl sitting with them who had short black hair, pale skin and a rather snout-like nose.

Draco looked up when he saw Cath approach her.

Crabbe and Goyle, who were about as thick as they come, greeted her with an awkward wave. The girl with them looked at her as though she were a huge inconvenience.

“Cath,” Draco said. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually,” she replied. She felt increasingly uncomfortable by the girl’s stare.

Draco shut his textbook and stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said to his friends.

“Don’t be gone too long,” the black haired girl said.

“Who’s she?” Cath asked once they were out of earshot.

“Pansy Parkinson,” Draco replied. “She’s in my year.”

“Sounds like she fancies you,” Cath remarked.

“What is it that you want?” Draco asked, not indulging her in small talk.

“I haven’t seen you since the hospital wing,” Cath replied. “How is your arm? It looks like you’re doing a lot better.”

Draco held his injured arm close to his side, suddenly wincing in pain. “It’s better than it was… but it still hurts a lot.”

Cath wanted so badly to taunt him, but she knew his fragile ego wouldn’t be able to handle it. “Sounds terrible,” she replied.

“Mother and Father are furious,” Draco said. “They’re meeting with Dumbledore about it tomorrow. There’s no way that stupid giant should be teaching here. They agree. I mean, bringing dangerous animals into class and then letting them attack students? It’s completely irresponsible, don’t you think?”

Cath worried for Hagrid. She knew it wasn’t his fault or his intention that a student get hurt during class. “Well, I’m sure Hagrid feels terrible that you got hurt.”

“He should,” Draco replied. “Anyways, I’m sure you’ve heard all about what happened yesterday?”

Cath nodded. “Ron said he saw the Fat Lady right after it happened. She was absolutely terrified.”

“This isn’t going to look good for Dumbledore,” Draco shook his head. “I’m sure they’re doing everything they can to keep Hogwarts’ image as clean as possible.”

“Hogwarts is safe, everyone knows that,” Cath said.

“But think about what’s happened here the past two years. Last year, with the Chamber of Secrets opening. And in our first year with Professor Quirrell,” Draco pointed out. “That’s a lot of bad press.”

“Do you think Hogwarts would get shut down?” Cath asked.

Draco shrugged. “Dunno. But I’m sure the Ministry will be putting a lot of pressure on Dumbledore to keep things safe around here.”

They were silent for a minute as they stood in the empty corridor.

“You should come watch the Quidditch practice today,” Cath said. “I’m going with Ron and Hermione.”

Draco thought for a minute before shrugging. “Maybe. I have a lot of schoolwork.”

Someone walking past them caught Cath’s attention. She looked to her right and to her surprise saw Professor Lupin, who was carrying a stack of books in his arm. He looked extremely tired and worn. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and he wore a grey knit sweater with brown trousers and well worn dress shoes.

Good afternoon, Malfoys,” he said, dipping his head courteously.

“Professor!” Cath said. “I’m so glad you’re back. Are you feeling much better?"

Professor Lupin smiled, exaggerating the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “I’m feeling better every day, thank you Ms. Malfoy. If you’ll excuse me.”

He kept walking down the corridor in the direction of the staff office.

“Looks like he’s seen better days,” Draco remarked.

“I’m glad he’s back,” Cath said. “It was dreadful having Snape teach Defence.”

“Tell me about it,” Draco agreed. “Anyways, I’ve got to get back. See you later, Cath.”

“This afternoon?” Cath asked him expectantly, raising her eyebrows. She knew that once he spent time with his Gryffindor friends again, he would go right back to normal.

He paused for a moment before replying. “I’ll try to come.”

***

Minerva tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Albus to stop indulging Professor Sprout in her gushing over the perennials she had planted this year. Nearly all of the professors had gathered in the large meeting room on the tenth floor.

It was a room that was rarely used, except for the very few times that Hogwarts was in some sort of danger. Well, now that Harry Potter attended the school it seemed that something terrible had happened every year. Not that Minerva blamed the boy at all. None of this was his fault.

Poor boy. Only thirteen years old and he had faced death and danger so many times.

Remus Lupin took a seat near Minerva, a ceramic mug of tea in his hands. It was always strange when a former student of Minerva’s went on to teach at Hogwarts. Remus and his friends had been her students when she had started her first year of teaching. After teaching James Potter and Sirius Black, there was no rowdy classroom that Minerva couldn’t have handled.

He had always been so different than those two, Remus. Of course he went along with James and Sirius’ antics, to an extent, but he was quiet, shy, very bright and studious. A real gentle soul. Working with a group of witches and wizards during the Wizard War had certainly hardened him, especially the heartbreak of losing James, Lily, Sirius and Peter.

“Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall,” Remus greeted her politely.

Minerva looked over to him and smiled, shaking her head. “You should know by now that you can call me Minerva.”

“I still haven’t gotten used to it, I suppose,” Remus said, smiling sheepishly.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the rest of the teachers that were dwindling and wandering in quickly made their way to a seat.

Finally, Minerva thought.

A piece of parchment and a quill were enchanted to float near Albus’s head and take minutes during their meetings.

“Thank you all for attending this staff meeting,” he said, smiling around at everyone. Minerva had never seen a smile from Dumbledore that wasn’t genuine. She truly didn’t know how he did it.

“First of all, I would like to thank you all for your support during the events of last night. I realize that you had to spring into action during a potentially dangerous time, and your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

Second, I want to give a brief update of what has transpired since last night. The Fat Lady, who guards the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, was attacked by someone in the castle. She claims it to be Sirius Black. That night, myself and various others conducted a thorough search of the castle, as well as the grounds. We had Dementors circle the entirety of Hogwarts, but were unable to locate Sirius Black. It is my sincere belief that he is not in Hogwarts.”

There was tangible relief from everyone in the room. Minerva could see the look of absolute hatred on Severus’s face. He probably wanted nothing more than for Black, his childhood bully, to be found.

“We will continue to keep close watch,” Dumbledore continued. “I have received many letters of concern from parents, citizens, and the board of governors. But Hogwarts is not in danger. There is no cause for worry or fear. I am in contact with the Minister of Magic, who sent a team of experienced Aurors to help conduct the search last night.”

“Is it true that he’s after the Potter boy?” asked Charity Burbitch, the professor of Muggle Studies.

Minerva swallowed uncomfortably, allowing herself to steal a glance at Remus. He looked sad, his eyes slightly vacant.

“Sirius Black has indeed escaped Azkaban,” Dumbledore replied. “And I know I can say for myself, that even one night in Azkaban prison would be enough to drive me to escape. He is likely trying to live in hiding.”

Another unfortunate event happened this week. During a Care of Magical Creatures class, a student was injured by a Hippogriff. He has made a full recovery, according to Madam Pomfrey and will not suffer any permanent damage. The animals were being handled carefully and responsibly, as is to be assumed of Rubeus Hagrid. However, the board of governors has raised some concerns to me that I will handle privately.”

“So Lucius Malfoy got the minister involved,” Minerva couldn’t help herself. She did not have fond feelings for the Malfoy family, even despite all they had done to help the Potters.

“How are we going to deal with all this negative press?” Filius Flitwick asked. “First a student is attacked, and then Sirius Black is allegedly spotted in the castle.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Hogwarts is safe and always has been. Its walls and enchantments have stood the test of time. There isn’t a witch or wizard who doesn’t know that to be true.”

“The Daily Prophet can spin nearly anything,” Rolanda Hooch muttered, garnering a few chuckles from teachers.

“Going forward, students are to be in their dormitories by nine o’clock in the evening. Additionally, Dementors will be present at Quidditch practices and matches from now on. We need to ensure that we are taking all the precautionary safety measures necessary. Are there any questions?” Albus asked. the scratches of the quill scribbling on the parchment ceased as he paused. Albus looked around at the room full of teachers. “Well, I suppose that concludes things for the day.”

A few teachers left right away to get to their next classes, while others continued to talk and conspire about Sirius Black.

Remus remained in his seat, still staring at nothing with that sad forlorn look on his face. Minerva hesitated before standing up to leave.

“Remus, are you quite alright?” she asked gently.

He looked up at her as if he had only just realized where he was. He quickly put a smile on his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes. Just lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”

Minerva nodded and briefly placed a hand on his shoulder before putting her cloak on and heading towards the door.

“Minerva,” Albus stopped her before she left. “The Minister has asked if I fancy meeting him for a drink at the Three Broomsticks next Saturday. Would you like to join us?”

She hoped it would be a pleasure rather than business meeting, although if the Minister for Magic was going to be there it was unlikely to be just for pleasure. “Of course,” Minerva replied.

“I do hope Madam Rosmerta has her hot apple cider ready…” Albus said with a twinkle in his eye.

Sometimes Albus’s optimism could be infuriating. The world could be falling apart around him and he would still be smiling and talking about eatings sweets. But at other times, it felt like it was the only thing keeping Hogwarts together. Minerva relied on Albus’s whimsy, his constant joy and curiosity. As if somehow it gave her permission to be the same when times were tough.

***

“Won’t you be cold?” Ginny said to Cath as they were getting dressed to watch the Quidditch practice.

Cath was wearing a warm knit jumper and a beanie, and was searching for her gloves. “I’ll be fine, Ginny.”

Ginny was putting on a thick winter jacket that looked second hand, and scarf probably knitted by her mom. “Don’t you have a coat?”

“I do, but… it’s ridiculous,” Cath said awkwardly. “My parents got it for me, but it just looks ridiculously posh.”

Ginny was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to hide your wealth around me, you know. My family isn’t that poor.”

Cath looked up at her, feeling embarrassed. “It’s not that, it’s just… I—”

Ginny didn’t say anything. She just looked at Cath, as if expecting her to finish. It wasn’t difficult to see that the Weasley’s weren’t particularly well off. Cath had never thought any less of them for it, but Ginny was right. Cath felt uncomfortable talking about certain things around her, like vacations her family went on, presents she got for Christmas.

“I’m sorry, Gin,” Cath said.

“You’re going to be cold,” was all she said in reply.

Ginny had a point. It looked as though it were about to snow any day now. The air outside was so cold it made your cheeks sting. Winter was just around the corner.

Cath pulled her jacket out of the bottom of her dresser. It was a long black wool coat with dark green buttons. She pulled her arms through the sleeves and buttoned it all the way up as she followed Ginny out of the dormitory and down the stairs.

Ron and Hermione were already down there, and it appeared as though the two of them were arguing about something. Hermione was clutching her cat, a huge orange fluffy thing with a rather squished looking face.

“I’m telling you, Hermione, that cat has it out for Scabbers!” Ron said crossly at her, holding his pet rat.

“All cats want to chase mice and rats, Ron,” Hermione replied exasperatedly. “He would never hurt him, right Crookshanks?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ron scowled. “I’m putting Scabbers back upstairs before that evil monster can take another chunk of fur out of him.”

“Everything alright?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione sighed and put down Crookshanks, who jumped up onto an armchair and began purring innocently. “Ron thinks Crookshanks is trying to hunt his rat.”

Ginny shrugged. “Scabbers’ time is probably up anyways. It’s just the circle of life.”

"How long has Ron had him?” Cath asked.

"He used to be Percy’s rat, but we’ve had him for… I don’t know, twelve years?” Ginny replied.

“Twelve years?” Cath said incredulously. “Did he find the elixir of life or something?”

“He’s just lucky,” Hermione said.

“We take excellent care of him,” Ron said from the top of the stairs, still refusing to look at Hermione. “He’s lived so long because he’s had such a comfortable life.”

“Don’t get too attached,” Ginny laughed.

The four of them left the Common Room, headed for the Quidditch Pitch.

“I was hoping it would snow,” Cath said disappointedly. “Those clouds don’t look very nice.”

The sky outside was full of thick, grey rainclouds. Cath was suddenly grateful for her warm wool coat. The four walked briskly to the Quidditch pitch, where a few students sat in the stand to watch the practice.

[emrysarthurpendragon]

Let’s hang out sometime!

He had no choices. Merlin keeps muttering these words as he walked past the citadel’s doors. The guards standing there, one at each side of said doors, barely send a curious glance at him. It was not usual for the young warlock to go out in the middle of the night. Most of the time, nightfall – or even later – was the moment he left the city to collect plants for Gaius. Some flowers were blooming away from the sun, while the moon was high and full. For that reason, the soldiers just nodded in his direction and reminded him to be careful. Bandits used to roam the woods around the citadel and his royal pratness needed his manservant. Ok. He added the prat part. Still, after tonight, Arthur and Merlin would belong to the past. The young prince, soon-to-be king, needed not him now. He had seen enough lately to know. Arthur was not the once and future king. He hated magic as much as his father does and will do until the day he died. Morgana had every right to lose her mind, growing up in a place where people like her were burned at the stake, even when they used their powers to help and protect their loved ones.

“He will forget me. After all, we were just manservant and prince … not friends.” As if he wanted to befriend an idiot like Arthur. Real friends don’t throw goblets and various pieces of furniture at you. A sad smile graced the brunet’s lips. He remembered a time, in Ealdor, when Will pop out of nowhere with something to eat for them. They would grab hands and run together in the woods, laughing and playing tricks on the local bullies. They were poor, Merlin even more than Will’s family, but so much happier. Back then, no destiny darkened his future and threatened to crush him if he failed.

After some time, the small way through the trees widened and opened in a beautiful clearing. Here and there, white flowers faced the snowy full moon. Like stars fallen from the sky and to the peaceful earth. The soft wind made them dance shyly, nervous to move under a stranger’s gaze. In the middle of the clearing, surrounded by green grass, an oak stood. Oaks were magnificent. Older than most humans, they waited there and only shared their knowledge with a few chosen ones. Long ago, one of them sent a dream to Merlin. One about a world of magic. A world in which he was free to be himself and not some babbling, goofy, stupid manservant. A world with Arthur, the King, by his side and staring at his people with fond eyes. With kids roaring with laughter in the wide streets of Camelot, chasing each other’s and sending sparkles of magic toward their friends. It happened not long after he first step foot in Camelot and, like an idiot, he thought of a glimpse from the future. If it were, he probably messed it up somewhere. Like he did with Morgana, and probably Mordred too. Well, at least, Mordred had not attacked them for now. He was somewhere with his fellow druids, happy and alive. Hanging from a branch, a liana caught his eyes and merlin waved his wrist, calling it to him and making a knot with what could be called a cord in that case. According to the legend, taking someone’s life sends you to a terrible place in the afterlife. Doing so with yourself condemn the person to even worse … reincarnation where they would suffer even more. Funny enough, Merlin though nothing could be worst than what he was enduring right now. The other day, he barely avoids being caught by Leon, using magic to protect them in an ambuscade. The final countdown before his burning had begun and he chooses to die to his own terms. Not with Arthur’s hateful eyes on him, but with his laugh in his ears and his smile behind his closed eyelids.

“I guess it’s time to go…” whispered Merlin, slowly climbing the tree. For one moment, he turned his blue eyes where he heard a rustle in the bushes below. Probably his imagination. Some part of him wishing for a sudden twist in his fate, in the form of a friend coming to stop him. A chuckled escaped his lips at his stupidity. No one was coming. With that in mind, Merlin straightened the knot around his neck and made the last step between his life and death. “Freya, I’m coming,” the young man whispered and then, nothing. Nothing but the blissful darkness.

 * * *

Gwaine had been at the tavern – again – and stumbled out of the place around the witching hour. Maybe earlier. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the familiar figure of his friend, Merlin, walking down the street and outside the city. As a matter of fact, the knight knew Gaius needed not plants. They met earlier that day and his pots were so full he could probably make a good amount of money selling them to the nobles. Why was Merlin heading out then? Not for Arthur. The Prince never asked his manservant to leave town after dusk. Behind his banters and flying items, the young man cared deeply for his servant and would never endanger him like this. Merlin, on another hand, had that habit to endanger himself. The other day, Lancelot stopped him from falling down the staircases. How was he still alive? Gwaine did not know. Especially with all the adventures they shared since the day they met. Bandits. Sorcerers. Magic creatures. He survived them all but almost kill himself in the most random situations one could imagine. Of course, he decided to follow his friend in a matter of second. Anything could happen in the woods, in the middle of the night. What if the brunet was tricked and killed by an enemy of Camelot? None of them would survive this. Well, they will. But they’ll change in the process. Merlin was their glue. The one whom united them in the first place. A little brother. If something were to happen to him, if Arthur found out someone noticed Merlin and decided to ignore him … let’s say there would be consequences. In a lucky day, even the slightly drunk soldier managed to follow Merlin without being noticed. He stumbled a few times. Cursed when his right foot got stuck in a root. Still, he followed his friend and watched carefully, hidden behind a tree, what happened next. Or he listened. A cold feeling grew in Gwaine when the wind carried Merlin’s word.

“He will forget me. After all, we were just manservant and prince … not friends.” He said. Merlin, the cheerful boy, spoke like a man collapsing under too much pressure. Merlin who joked with them earlier that day, about how Arthur would kill him one day, if he keeps using him as a target during practice. Was he hurt at training? Something they said or did? His thought prevented him from following Merlin and when he reconnected with reality, the younger man was gone. Gwaine searched for him. He looked everywhere for hours. Or it felt like it. Then, the clearing appeared and his blood froze in his body. No. This what not happening. Merlin couldn’t be standing in a tree, face turned toward the sky, a ghostly smile gracing his features. He watched in slow motion the manservant’s movements. Even if he ran really fast, his chances at saving Merlin were inexistent. The wind carried the name of a girl named Freya. Did Merlin lose her? Who was she? His friend never mentioned a special someone before. A better half, lover or even good friend. Thinking out loud, Merlin had always been secretive about his life.

“Merlin! No!” screamed Gwaine, running under the tree. The small body fell and remained limp. From his pocket, the knight grabbed a knife and threw it at the vines. Call it luck, the blade snapped the liana right away and Gwaine caught his friend. Merlin weights nothing in his arms. His skin was pale and his chest immobile. As still as a frozen lake in winter. With shake hands, Gwaine undone the handmade rope and checked for a pulse. Sure enough, no bones had been broken when Merlin fell to his death. He probably chocked, gasping for air until his consciousness faded away.

“Please, don’t be dead. Not on me,” begged Gwaine, practising first aids on Merlin. One. Two. Three. Four. He heard a loud crack as a rib broke under the pressure. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, repeating the same gestures, giving his own oxygen and forcing in into Merlin lungs. After what felt like eternity, a loud gasp broke the silence. Merlin’s chest started rising and falling again; slightly, but enough to make him alive. “Hold on, I’ll take you to Gaius.”

The way to Camelot never felt so long before. The guards are the door sent worried looks their ways and Gwaine hurried. His loud steps sound like those of some spirit of the dead. With a loud bang – and a startled Gaius – Gwaine stepped into the physician’s office.

“Sir Gwaine? What’s the…” started the old man, before his gaze fell on his ward. “Merlin. What happened?” asked Gaius, hurrying the knight toward the table, where they lay their friend and/or surrogate son.

“I don’t know…” stuttered Gwaine, nervously scratching his neck with his left hand. “Followed him in the woods and … and he tried to… I lose him for a minute and … was hanging in … in a tree… I don’t understand.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” sighed Gaius, checking his books and potions. The thing was, he felt magic was involved in Merlin’s current situation. Lately, the boy had acted off character. Whenever people were not looking, he noticed how his ward’s happiness melted to a grim look. But magic saved him too. Around the younger man’s neck, he felt the golden stream that saved the warlock. His bones clearly snapped the moment he jumped off that tree and repaired themselves to save him. No matter how hard someone had been trying to kill Merlin, the boy’s magic acted like a shield. Or a curse, if legends were true. Legends about Emrys being the most powerful warlock ever, and also an immortal being.

Hours passed and Gwaine ended up snoring on a chair. That is, until Gaius said he did his best and that now, they just had to wait until Merlin felt strong enough to open his eyes again. The sun rose in the distance and the knight yawned loudly.

“I better go wake the Princess. I’ll tell him Merlin’s sick and banned from duties for the time being. Physician’s orders.”

“Thank you, Gwaine. For helping my boy and keeping the secret.”

“He’s my friend too,” smiled Gwaine as he exited the office. Once alone, his smile faded. Merlin almost took his own life. Merlin thought Arthur could lose him and be okay with it. Every single person in Camelot, from nobles to mere peasants knew how close they were. Even that stupid King Uther and his stupid laws knew. If magic truly was involved in it, Gwaine knew it couldn’t force that kind of feeling in one mind. No. Somewhere, even deep inside his heart, Merlin had believed them enough to do so. Or was it about that Freya girl? What if there was no magic here? What if Gaius told him so, just to ease his aching heart?

Without knocking, Gwaine entered the prince’s bedroom and found him fully awake, his back turned to him and struggling with his shirt.

“Merlin, you’re late!” growled the blond.

“Not Merlin, Princess.”

The man froze and turned over. His messy hair poked out of the shirt, quickly followed by the royal’s head with a confuse look all over his face. The moment their eyes met, Arthur asked in a worried voice:

“Where’s Merlin?”

For a second, Gwaine did not find the words. He closed his eyes and saw Merlin’s limp body hanging before him. He remembered how cold he was, how thin … his fear when he realised what had happened.

“He’s sick. Gaius tied him to his bed,” joked the man, trying his best to hide his worry. Thankfully, Arthur was the oblivious type and accepted his poor excuse. He never found out about the truth. Not when they visited Merlin as a group of worried knights. Not when the manservant awoke. Not even when, after a week and a half, Merlin resume to his duties and acted as if nothing happened. The only change came from Gwaine, who stopped his usual stops at the tavern to keep a vigilant eye on his friend.

[slytherinknowitall]

Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks

Chapter 14: Can You Keep A Secret, Professor?

(Click here for chapter 13!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

It was late at night, and Severus was in a truly splendid mood as he made his way through one of the school’s deserted corridors.

Just a few hours earlier, his house’s Quidditch team had absolutely smashed those stupid little Gryffindors he despised so much. 60 to 190 points – he still marvelled at that superb score. Finally, after all those years, his beloved Slytherins were again on their way to take home Hogwarts’ Inter-House Quidditch Cup! He could not help but smirk as he thought of the shocked expression on Potter’s face when Draco Malfoy had caught the Snitch right before the Chosen One’s eyes. After the game, the Potions Master had then spent the rest of his night harvesting Sopophorous beans from his secret acreage hidden deep within the Forbidden Forest and was now on his way back to his chambers. Ah yes, today had been a good day!

Snape was just about to turn the corner when he heard the unmistakable creak of a heavy door echoing through the nocturnal quiet. Maybe it was a remnant of his spying days or maybe it was the teacher in him evermore prepared to catch some unsuspecting students breaking the rules, but he immediately stopped dead in his tracks and squeezed his body against the wall before risking a stealthy look into the corridor to his right.

At first, he could not see much as the light coming through an open door situated a mere few metres in front of his position was simply too bright; it took his eyes a second or two to adjust. It was only then that he realised he was looking at the entrance to the Hospital Wing. Funny – he hadn’t even noticed that he had wandered into the Hospital Tower. But maybe that should not have come as a surprise, considering how much his mind had been all over the place lately.

Turning his attention back to the scene before him, he could make out a person looking suspiciously similar to Madam Pomfrey standing in the doorway, evidently speaking with someone out of his sight. The wizard’s brows puckered. Normally, Poppy had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to her sleeping schedule; one that she defended with all kinds of nasty hexes, as he himself had had to experience first-hand. The only exception, of course, was in cases of emergency; but in that instance, every one of the school’s teachers would have been informed. And Severus knew for a fact that Albus’ Patronus would have easily found him no matter where he had been, even deep down in the woods.

Trying to get a better look, he scooted a bit closer, making sure not to step out of the protective cover provided by the nighttime shadows, just as the matron moved aside to let her conversation partner exit the room. To say that he was surprised when he saw Granger set foot in the dark corridor would have been an understatement.

He had not seen her since they had shared that quick hug in the Entrance Hall; as far as he was aware, she had not even attended the game earlier. Presently, she was dressed in what seemed to be a light grey bathrobe over a pair of red plaid cotton pyjamas, with her hair pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck – certainly a drastic difference to the risky Halloween costume she had worn just a few days earlier.

Severus watched as the Gryffindor exchanged a few more unintelligible words with the elderly healer before turning around and walking off into the direction of the Grand Staircase, her cloth slippers audibly dragging across the stone floor. He waited until the door to the infirmary had been pulled shut before moving to stealthily follow her. The thoughts in his head were running wild. Why had she been there, at this time of night at that?! Had she somehow gotten injured? Had she contracted some sort of disease? Panic already arousing in him, Snape forced himself to calm down. No, he would have been told if his personal apprentice had become sick or gotten hurt. Also, he knew that Poppy would never discharge a patient in the middle of the night. So what was really going on?

The strides of his long legs great, he was quick to catch up to her petite figure.

“Miss Granger,” he growled, causing the witch to jump in surprise. “What were you doing in the Hospital Wing at this hour? It is almost one o’clock in the morning, so you are not only outside of visiting hours but also past curfew!”

“Merlin, keep your voice down or someone will hear you!”

Severus did not even have enough time to get angry about being shushed by a student – or to blush at his new love interest tightly gripping his arm – before Granger pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. Pulling out her wand, she quickly locked the door and cast a privacy charm before turning around to face him.

“My apologies, sir.” She regarded him with a slight frown on her face. “But I simply could not risk anyone eavesdropping on us.”

“I demand to know the meaning of this right now, Miss Granger!” snarled Snape.

After giving him a long and calculated look, the young woman tilted her head as she asked, “Can you keep a secret, Professor?”

“Keep a secret?” He almost felt as though he had just been insulted. “I was a Death Eater and a double agent for longer than you have been alive, you foolish girl!”

Granger ignored his little emotional outburst. “I will take that as a yes.” She walked over to one of the wooden tables in the front row and leant against it. “My visit to the infirmary did not concern myself.”

Severus just glared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“Rather, I was there to act as a sort of moral support for Ginny.”

“Miss Weasley.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” she confirmed nonetheless. “I’m sure that you noticed her absence at today’s game. You see, her and Harry have been an item for a while now. But it seems as though they recently had a little mishap.”

The Potions professor was growing more and more impatient. Potter and anything concerning him was one of his least favourite subjects.

“A mishap of what sort?” he pressed her.

“Well …” Seemingly searching for the right words, Snape thought that he could see her face turn red a little. “A mishap as they became more intimate. Carelessness in the heat of passion, if you will.”

Snape’s eyes turned big and he could feel a burning sensation starting to spread in his cheeks.

“You mean …” He could not even bring himself to say it.

Granger nodded. “Ginny got pregnant. She obviously freaked out, not knowing what to do. So after she confided in me, I set up a secret appointment with Madam Pomfrey.”

She did not elaborate further, looking at him as though he should know where the story was going. But after a few seconds of Severus just staring back at her blankly, she finally lost her patience.

“The pregnancy was terminated.”

“WHAT?”

Granger simply rolled her eyes. “Come on, Professor! Don’t act like you aren’t aware that things like this happen at our school all the time. Every year, there’s at least half a dozen of girls seeking Madam Pomfrey’s assistance in such matters.”

“No, I did not know that!” he barked back. “What do the girl’s parents have to say to all of this? And Potter?!”

She offered him a sad smile. “He doesn’t know.”

“What?!” he exclaimed appalled. “How could that idiot not know he impregnated a fellow student?”

“Ginny just never told him. I advised her to do so, of course; but she didn’t want to. And at the end of the day, it’s her body and her choice. All I can do is be there for her as a friend.” She crossed her arms. “It’s probably for the best anyway. Harry would have tried to convince her to continue with the pregnancy for sure, and they’re just not ready for that kind of responsibility. I mean, neither of them has even finished their education yet! And while Harry might have brought about Voldemort’s downfall, he cannot even keep up with his schoolwork, let alone take care of a child.”

Severus was taken aback by the maturity in her voice. “She is probably right,” he thought. He did not even want to imagine having to deal with another Potter brat in eleven years’ time; just the idea of it made him shudder. Still, the thought of two students being sexually active made him highly uncomfortable somehow. Ironic, considering his own current emotional state.

“And so that’s the reason why I was in the Hospital Wing,” he could hear the brunette conclude.

“Very well.” He let out an audible sigh. “10 points from Gryffindor.”

“Excuse me?!” she bellowed.

“Miss Granger, as the school’s Head Girl, you should lead by example. Wandering around the castle after curfew is a punishable offence.” He smirked. “Regardless of the circumstances.”

It was painfully obvious that that was an attempt at lightening the mood, and the brightest witch of her age threw her hands up in frustration.

“You really are something, Professor Snape! I guess I better get going before you deduct even more points – for ridiculous reasons, I might add!”

She removed her magical guards and made for the door.

“One last thing, Miss Granger.”

A head of full brown locks turned to him. “Yes?”

Severus regarded her quizzically. “Why would you tell me such damning information willingly?”

“Oh, I don’t believe you would ever tell, sir. You would have to admit to having conversations with your apprentice in private, after all.”

And with one last cheeky grin, she disappeared into the night.

(Click here for chapter 15!)