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ethniee · 5 months

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Dependent // A Garreth Weasley x MC Oneshot

Quick little story I got thinking about at 2AM. Have fun :)

Inger grit her teeth as she stepped into her house, shifting the strap of her bag for the millionth time. The lock clicked behind her as she leaned against the door.

Merlin, she hurt.

Inhaling slowly and trying not to vomit, she pulled off her shabby brown hat and closed her eyes, letting her bag drop to the floor. She could feel every wave of blood that passed through her shoulder, and it throbbed with pain.

"Inger, love," Garreth called from the living room. "Is that you?"

Of course it was. She twinged at the thought of it being anyone else. Still, with a job as an Auror and a Healer as a husband, one could never be sure who might walk through the door.

Inger forced a smile. She could be strong for him-- he'd been so stressed lately. "It is," she called back. Her fingers fumbled as she hung the pointed hat on a nearby hat stand and walked into the living room. "How was your day?"

Garreth was hovering over a large bubbling cauldron amidst an array of potions ingredients strewn across the rug, stirring with a ladle at the same time he was trying to hold his place in a formidable textbook. His brow was furrowed with concentration. "It's been good," he said offhandedly. He bit his lip, his eyes crossing between the book and the potion in front of him, before he reached across the cauldron to add a few stringy cobwebs from a bottle. He stirred for a moment longer.

Nothing happened.

Garreth sat back on his haunches, narrowly missing an uncorked bottle of centipede juice, and rocked back and forth on his heels. "Dragon toes," he muttered. "I was sure that would work."

Inger slipped up behind him, rubbing his shoulder with her good hand as she observed the textbook.

A recipe for Skele-Gro.

"Skele-Gro?" she teased. "What did you do, forget the recipe?"

Garreth rolled his eyes, an exhausted half-smile crossing his face. "On the contrary. I had an idea.. It's far-fetched, but I think I can do it." He leaned forward and planted his hand on the book’s recipe, tracing the lines. "We can regrow bones... Why not full limbs? Lizards can regrow tails, spiders can regrow their legs. It shouldn't be too different from Skele-Gro. If I can just make it stronger..."

Inger's heart swelled. Regrowing entire limbs... only Garreth would attempt something so crazy.

She couldn't help loving him all the more for it.

"You really think you can do it?"

He paused for a moment, then nodded resolutely. "I know I can," he said. "I can, and I will.” He stood and let out a breathy laugh at his own commitment, running a hand through his ginger hair as he motioned haphazardly to the mess spread across the rug. “Of course, this is only a trial run, I know, but-"

Inger shook her head in exasperation and grabbed the color of his shirt, pulling him down to silence him with a kiss. Garreth grinned against her lips, wrapping his hands around her waist as he kissed her back.

How could he be so incredible?

"You're something else, Garreth Weasley", she whispered affectionately. She brushed his cheek with her thumb. "I know you can do it."

Garreth's eyes sparkled. "How in Merlin's name did I get you to marry me?"

She jokingly shrugged and instantly regretted it. Searing fire shot through her veins and muscles, crippling her arm. She fought back the urge to grimace, trying with every shred of willpower to stay unaffected.

It made no difference. Garreth's trained eyes flashed to her shoulder in a fraction of a second.

"Inger," he said slowly, his tone serious. "You're hurt."

It wasn't a question, and she couldn't deny it. It was becoming unbearable. Garreth's hand was on her good arm, his touch gentle but firm. "Come here," he said, leading her toward the couch. "Sit down."

She shook her head. She wouldn’t let him take care of her, not when he had so much to do. "No, Garreth, I promise I-"

Garreth's wand was out in an instant. "Levioso!"

Inger started as her body jolted forward, hanging limply in the air in front of her husband. In a flash he nicked her wand from her robe pocket.

"Oh, you didn't," she said, giving him a playful glare around the pain in her shoulder.

Garreth stepped up right close and pressed his lips to hers. "Oh, but I did."

How was it that a simple kiss could solve so many problems? Inger could feel her muscles relax, almost as if his touch was flowing into her, even as her own body's longing began to rise. It was maddening, hanging in front of her husband like this. Hurt, vulnerable.. unable to touch him.

"That's better," Garreth murmured in her ear. His hands slipped upwards as he began to gently remove her robes, letting them drop to the floor before he began the job of unbuttoning her shirt. Inger tried her best to help, pulling her good arm out of the sleeve so he could pull the shirt down the other side to access her shoulder.

One of his hands graced her ribs, paused, and then tickled her in the side. Inger squirmed, laughing as she tried to get away from him midair.

“Ay!” she yelped. “Quit it!” Garreth let up on the assault, allowing her to catch her breath. “What was that for?!”

He grinned cheekily at her, moving to her side to look at her shoulder. “You weren’t smiling enough.”

His touch was feather-light as he examined it, tracing the echoes of muscles and veins across her skin. Inger could see the gears turning in his head as he began to check through a list of diagnoses.

"It's dislocated," he said almost immediately. “Pretty horribly, I might say.” He met her eyes, grinning. "What in Merlin's name did you do to yourself?"

Inger shook her head, managing a chuckle. "Just caught the edge of an Expulso. I’m fine, really. It’s part of the job."

Garreth raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Not for the best duelist in England, it’s not. I’m amazed you weren’t hurt further." He fisted his hands on his hips. "Regardless, though, you’re not going back to work for a few days if I have anything to say about it.”

Inger’s eyes snapped up. “You can’t keep me away from-”

“Yes I can," he said smugly. “Healer’s orders.”

She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t-”

“A week.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Two weeks.”

“Garreth, I-”

He laughed. “I can just keep going if you’d like me to.”

Inger felt her cheeks flush with frustration and embarrassment. It was true, she supposed. He was a professional Healer, and she was hurt. But two weeks? It was outrageous. She hated feeling weak, hated feeling dependent. There were people who needed her help.

"Hey, don't get all sad on me," Garreth said, tilting her chin up with his finger. "I promise I won't keep you for two weeks. Just long enough so you can get out there without making it worse."

Her eyes narrowed. "I have a job to do, Garreth. You know that."

"So much so that I often think you'd rather be at work than with me," he joked.

She scoffed a laugh. "That's not true."

He smiled- a goofy, fun-loving, Garreth smile. "I know." He took a deep breath, his expression instantly transforming from affectionate to focused. "So, what should we do about this... little dislocation of yours?"

Inger chewed her lip, observing her shoulder. "Can't you just... you know..." she trailed off, gesturing vaguely with her good hand.

Garreth folded his arms and looked at her dubiously. "It's going to hurt."

"I can handle it."

His eyebrow arched, his lips curling into a smirk. "Are you sure about that?"

She glared at him.

He chuckled. "Alright then, Miss Confident. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His strong hands took a firm grip on her arm and shoulder. “On three?"

Inger nodded, closing her eyes and clenching her teeth shut. "On three," she agreed.

Garreth counted down slowly, giving her time to brace herself. "Three," he said, and before Inger could react, her entire body was wrenched with pain. Every muscle in her arm and back clenched in agony. She fought the urge to scream, biting down hard on her tongue instead.

Then suddenly, the pain was gone.

Well, not entirely gone. There was still a strong ache, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad as before.

Inger slowly opened her eyes, trying to focus on Garreth's face. He was leaning close, his expression concerned. "How does it feel?" he asked.

"Better," she said. "Thank you." She took a deep breath, wincing as the muscles in her back and arm protested.

Garreth watched her for a moment. "Alright then, let's get you on the couch, and a Wiggenweld to help with the pain." He gathered her up in a warm hug, releasing her from the Levioso and allowing her feet to finally once again touch the floor. "You can rest while I continue messing around."

"Oh, you don't have to-" she started, but he cut her off with a kiss, swinging her up as easily as a sack of flour into his arms.

"I know," he said, settling her into the couch, "but I want to. You know how much I hate seeing you hurt." His hands slid up her back, massaging as he pulled her closer. Inger felt a shiver of pleasure run through her, despite the ache in her shoulder.

He propped her up with a few pillows and covered her with an old tattered quilt, then vanished to the kitchen for a moment before returning with a small bottle of green liquid. "Drink," he ordered.

Inger took the bottle, uncorked it with her teeth and tilted it back. The Wiggenweld burned a trail down her throat, taking the aching pain away with it and leaving her feeling almost weightless. She handed the bottle back to Garreth, watching as he took a sip himself.

"You're sore?" Inger asked.

Garreth laughed ruefully. "Just a bit. Leaning over a cauldron for hours on end isn't the greatest for my back."

Inger shifted to face him, propping herself up on her elbow. "I could show you some stretching exercises for that," she teased, fluttering her eyelashes.

His eyes twinkled. "Oh, you could, hm?" He leaned forward, their faces inches apart. "Or perhaps you could just lie there and let me take care of you for a while."

She grinned, grabbed his shirt collar, and pulled him on top of her. “By all means.”

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter #hogwarts legacy mc #gryffindor #hogwarts oc #garreth weasley #inger eve nilsdott #garreth weasley x mc

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ethniee · 7 months

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In Which They Hide in a Cellar // A Garreth Weasley x MC Oneshot

A story I wrote a while ago, but edited a little! Enjoy!

Content Warnings: Cute fluff and banter, claustrophobia, general chaos

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6822

Garreth could hear she was coming before he saw her.

How could he not? Even though he didn’t have whatever super hearing powers Ominis seemed to have, it wasn’t a difficult task. Not many students ran through Hogwarts like a lion was at their heels, feet thundering and robes flying and apologizing profusely every two seconds for crashing into an unlucky first year.

He wasn’t the only one that heard the noise. Within seconds he could feel Professor Sharp’s eyes boring into him from across the room. Of course Sharp suspected him- nothing could really be done about that.

Schooling his face into one of indifference, Garreth glued his eyes to the recipe in front of him, desperately trying to appear focused and on task. This was a perfectly normal class period, he told himself, hoping that would make it easier. He was brewing a perfectly normal boring invisibility potion like Sharp had ordered, something he totally hadn’t brewed before, and the ingredients list was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

Most importantly, he had absolutely no idea whatsoever about what was going on in the hall. None at all.

He had just picked up his ladle to stir in a few blades of knotgrass when the door banged open, slamming against the wall and then rebounding, nearly knocking the late student off her feet.

Garreth kept his eyes focused on his cauldron, refusing to let his face give him away. She was later than they’d planned- What had happened?

Professor Sharp looked up from the book he was reading at his desk. “Hello, Miss Nilsdott. Care to explain your tardiness?”

Out of the corner of his eye Garreth watched Inger frantically straighten her askew scarlet and black robes. “I’m very sorry, Professor. Professor Garlick had me stay late in herbology to- uh, learn a few extra things.”

A smile flashed across Garreth’s face before he could stop it, and he had to look back at his recipe for a moment to get himself back under control before Sharp spotted him. He and Inger both knew that wasn’t the full truth of why she’d been late.

The Potions professor clearly wasn’t convinced, but Inger was doing an admirable job of staying expressionless. She caught her breath and swallowed hard, quickly brushing a few reddish-brown flyaways back into the twist of her ponytail. “I’m very sorry,” she repeated. “It won’t happen again.”

Sharp glared at her sternly. “See that it doesn’t.” He paused for a moment, observing her harried state with shrewd eyes, and when she didn’t flinch he went back to his book. “We are brewing an invisibility potion today,” he said without looking up. I’m sure Mr Thakkar would be glad to help you if needed. I suggest you hurry if you want to finish it before class ends.”

“Of course Profe-”

“And please make sure the door gets closed.”

Inger blinked, realizing she had yet to close the door. “Oh, uh, yes, Professor. Thank you, Professor.” She pulled it closed and then went to her station, beginning to unpack ingredients from her bag. Glancing behind her, she caught Garreth’s eye.

He raised his eyebrows the slightest bit - a silent question.

Inger bit back a smile and gave him a discreet thumbs-up from behind her cauldron. He grinned.

“Garreth,” Sharp barked, snapping him back into reality, “Are you planning on staring at Miss Nilsdott all day, or are you going to at least contemplate finishing your potion?”

Garreth flushed and averted his eyes, not bothering to hide his smile as he began to stir again . “No, Professor.”

He felt like setting off fireworks. She’d done it. Inger had all but handed him the potion ingredients of their wildest dreams. He put down his ladle and set to cutting up a toadstool cap, deciding to ignore the recipe’s recommendation of dicing instead. He was too excited to worry about correctly brewing a simple invisibility potion, especially when he’d already done so dozens of times before.

His brain flew, jumping from possibility to possibility. If Inger had really been successful, now all that was left to do was get through the rest of the school day. After that they’d be home free.

___________

The sun was low in the sky when they managed to escape the castle. A cool breeze drifted across the grounds, stirring fallen leaves and brushing through Garreth’s copper hair. The fountains burbled quietly, pine trees rustled, and from somewhere in the distance came the cry of a hawk.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, savoring the smell of autumn at Hogwarts and reveling in the pure, wonderful, weightless joy of freedom.

“Are you coming?”

Garreth opened his eyes. Inger was standing a short ways ahead of him leaning against her broom. Several pieces of chestnut hair had escaped from her low ponytail throughout the day and now danced in the light wind around her freckled face. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement– this was no ordinary place they would be flying to.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this for days.” He grabbed his own broom from where he’d propped it against the castle wall and threw his leg over it. In moments they’d kicked off and were headed towards the unknown.

At least, it was unknown to Garreth. Inger at least had some idea where she was going.

They turned South. The setting sun glowed brightly in the corner of Garreth’s vision and his robes were whipped back by the wind as they picked up speed. There was no better feeling in the world. He dipped his broom down to brush the tops of the trees with his toes, startling several crows into the air that squawked at him indignantly.

Inger laughed from above him. “Is this how you keep from sassing the headmaster?” She teased. “Terrifying crows?”

Garreth grinned. “What made you think I ever held back from sassing Black? You couldn’t pay me to stop.” He rose up beside her, urging his broom to keep pace. “So how’d you convince Poppy to tell you where this place was, anyway?”

Inger was surveying the land whizzing by beneath their feet. “Ah, it wasn’t hard. Poppy and I tell each other most everything.”

Garreth’s brow furrowed. He thought Inger told him most everything. “Really?”

“All the time. Anyways, she knows more about the poachers than anyone else. She’s been tracking them, figuring out where they go and what they do so she can one day stop them.”

“She told you they have a hideout?”

“Kind of. A storeroom is what Poppy called it- she mentioned how they sell off whatever materials they can get from the creatures they find.”

They had passed the forest and were now soaring over an expanse of golden fields, the grass turned yellow from the summer sun. Garreth looked over his shoulder. The Hogwarts castle was already beginning to fade into the distance.

“And it’s all the way out here?”

Inger turned to grin cheekily at him, leaning leisurely back on her broom. “Not one for long flights, are ya?”

The truth was he loved flying and was sure he could fly all day if she asked him to. That said, the thought of being so far away from his aunt’s reach was just as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

Which made a very poor excuse, now that Garreth thought about it. This was it. There was no turning back now. The plans had been made and the work done. Besides, he knew the rewards would undoubtedly be worth the trip, not to mention any punishment his aunt could hand out.

“What, long flights? I can do long flights. Long walks, long naps, long books, I can do it all.”

She guffawed. “We both know that last one’s a lie.”

She was right, of course. He couldn’t stand reading anything longer than a few pages. Still, that didn’t stop him from throwing an exaggerated wink in her direction. She snorted with laughter so hard she nearly fell off her broom.

It made him happy, seeing her laugh like that.

Inger recovered after a few moments and regained control. “You’re absolutely crazy, you know that?”

“You sound like Sharp. Crazy good or crazy bad?”

“Crazy enough that I never know what you’re gonna do next.”

He swooped up to fly above her and whirled into a twist, making her duck, then swung himself upside down. He was currently ignoring nearly every single one of Madam Kogawa’s rules, but he couldn’t care less. The mixed expression of utter astonishment and affectionate exasperation on Inger’s face was priceless. “Is that a good thing?”

She tilted her head back to look at him. “Merlin, how’d you do that?”

The blood was rushing to his head now and Garreth knew he’d better pull himself up before he passed out. “My amazing natural-born talent,” he said smugly. “... And a bit of practice.”

She looked at him dubiously as he righted himself. “You don’t get that good on a broom just by practice.”

“Not quite the astonished compliment I was hoping for, but it works.”

Inger rolled her eyes at this, but couldn’t hide her smile. “Unbelievable.” She peered over the side of her broom, checking the ground sweeping by below them to make sure they were still on the right track. “Alright then, Mr. Weasley. We still have a ways to go. What do you say we have a bit of a race? See who’s really the best on a broom around here.”

“That depends, do you want to lose?”

Her smile widened. “You’re forgetting, Garreth, I don’t lose. I win.” She pointed at a hill on the horizon. “That hill. And don’t you dare go easy on me.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What’s in it for the winner?”

“The winner gets to be the first one into the hideout.”

Garreth gripped his broom tightly and lowered himself to the handle, making himself as aerodynamic as possible. “You’re on.”

___________

Inger won.

He should have expected she would. Afterall, he knew his friend rarely committed to things she knew she couldn’t win. At least they were even.

Even so, he couldn’t deny feeling just a little jealous. Maybe a little impressed, too, but not much… Only a very, very little.

…. Okay, a lot.

It must have shown on his face because Inger called him out on it.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re sour that I won,” Inger teased when they had resumed their flight after the race.

Garreth stretched his legs out in front of him. They were beginning to cramp from being in the same position for so long. The castle was nowhere in sight, having disappeared into the mist and clouds behind them. “Not sour. Just shocked that I had such good manners as to let a girl beat me in a flying race.”

She laughed again. “You let me? Oh how very generous of you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, not let.” He smirked. “I should have said ‘allowed.’”

She swatted at him and he dodged, snickering.

The flight went on. They flew for what felt like days, though Garreth knew it couldn’t have been much more than an hour. The sun was now halfway beneath the horizon line, painting the sky a dozen different glowing hues of orange, yellow and pink. Shadows were lengthening and he could faintly hear the chirping of crickets far down below them. The last house he’d seen was at least a 10 minutes flight behind them, with no more in sight.

By now his legs were beginning to cramp in earnest, and no stretching he could do on his broom helped. He nearly asked Inger if they should maybe turn back before it got too late, or at least take a quick break, but the motivation of the ingredients they might find kept him from doing so- along with the fear that Inger may think he was getting cold feet.

He was prepared to accept the fact that they’d be flying for the next week when Inger abruptly paused and changed direction, swooping downwards towards what looked like a tiny pond. He angled his broom and followed her, thumping to the ground moments after she did.

He had always enjoyed flying, but oh, how good it felt to be back on the ground. He dropped his broom and sprawled out on the bank of the pond immediately, letting his deadened limbs flop to the grass.

Finally.

A shadow crossed his face and he groaned.

“Give me a minute, Nilsdott,” he murmured, all at once too tired to open his eyes. He hadn’t realized before how tired he was. “Just a minute.”

“Absolutely not. We have to get back to Hogwarts before your aunt finds out, remember?”

He made a noise of protest and turned away from Inger’s voice. No, he wasn’t going to get up quite yet. He was exhausted and he felt like every muscle in his body had been pulled way too tight for way too long.

“You do remember poachers live around here, don’t you? The dragon-killing murderous ones?”

At this point he couldn’t have cared less. Inger’s booted foot nudged him in the ribs.

“Blimey, Garreth, you’re worse than Reggie. Get up.”

A yawn nearly split his skull. He was far away now. The cool grass and quiet were dragging him down, the hushed rippling of the pond lulling him to sleep, heavy darkness enveloping him.

A blast of icy water hit him in the face.

Garreth shot to his feet, sputtering as Inger burst out laughing.

“What was that for?!” he demanded, wiping his face uselessly on a corner of his now soaked robe.

Inger twirled her wand between her fingers. “For sleeping, of all things, on an important adventure. Besides, I couldn’t do it by myself.” She was beaming, her freckles dancing across her nose in the fading light of the sunset like sprinkles. “I found it!”

Garreth looked around, stumbling slightly as he got his bearings, water plastering his hair to his forehead and trickling down his face. All he could see was the overgrown pond and the surrounding hills in every direction. “Found what?”

Inger rolled her eyes. “Okay. You see that hill? The one in front of us?” She pointed.

He barely knew what she was talking about. They all looked the same to him, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

She waited.

“Well, what?” He said, thoroughly exasperated. “I’m soaked through, exhausted, and now for Godric’s sake you just want me to stare at a random hill?”

She flicked her wand at him, murmuring an incantation, and Garreth watched in shock as the water evaporated from his clothing, leaving him completely dry.

Inger pocketed her wand. “Well, that takes care of one of those, at least.”

“What spell was that?!”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Just one I picked up from the back of the charms textbook. Professor Binns was rambling and there was nothing more interesting to read. It doesn’t matter, though, that’s not the point.” She grabbed his hand and pointed at the hill in front of them. “How do you not see it? There’s a door right there.”

He was momentarily distracted by the fact that Merlin, Inger was holding his hand when what she had said sank in. He stared at her. “A door?”

“Merlin’s bea- Yes, a door! It’s in the hill, don’t you see it?”

He squinted. It just looked like a regular old hill. What in the world was she-

And then, suddenly, he did see it.

It was small, covered in moss, and looked so much like the surrounding bank that he never would have spotted it had Inger not pointed it out, but there it was. A wooden door. Now that he knew where it was, he wondered how he ever could have missed it before… it seemed so obvious.

Inger was watching him with a smug expression and he rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling. “Alright, I see it.”

She grinned and started forward, pulling him along the edge of the pond until they reached the embankment it was set into. The excitement returned- a secret poacher’s hideout seemingly in the middle of nowhere. An underground secret hideout, no less. Who knew what might be in it?

He couldn’t deny Poppy’s work a bit of admiration. How she’d ever found something like this was nothing short of incredible.

Inger stepped forward to try the door. Unsurprisingly, it was locked.

Garreth pulled out his wand before Inger could have a chance to. Thankfully he still remembered this spell. “Alohamora,” he recited, aiming his wand at the keyhole.

They heard a click.

“Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Slytherin?” Inger jested as he grabbed the handle.

“Be nice or I won’t open it,” he said playfully, swinging the door ajar and moving aside so his friend could enter before him. “After you.”

She chuckled. “Such a gentleman.” She stepped inside and Garreth went after her, shutting the door behind them. The change to the dim light blurred his eyes, but as they adjusted and his vision became clearer, his jaw dropped.

It was stunning.

The room was small, but packed to the brim with every ingredient he could have ever dreamed of. Shelves crowded with bottles and boxes covered every inch of wall space, and even more crates and barrels stood around the edges of the room on the floor. Already he could see labels on some of them- Pearl Dust, Tentacula Venom, Occamy Eggshell. A lantern hanging from the ceiling provided the only light source and a narrow archway opened into another room to the right.

Inger walked hesitantly forward and reached up to remove a bottle from one of the higher shelves. Her eyes widened in shock as she read the label. Turning to Garreth, she held it out for him to see.

Dragon Tongue, the label read.

Garreth met her eyes. “No way.”

Inger gave an excited squeal and Garreth felt he could have died right there and been perfectly happy. After today they’d no longer have to sneak into Sharp’s storeroom for ingredients or try to scrounge up what they could from the Hogwarts grounds. After today they’d be able to brew the biggest and best potions of the likes of J. Pippin.

He grabbed another bottle from the shelves. Mooncalf fur.

The pair wasted no time in filling their pockets. Inger had brought a satchel with her and they filled that too, packing in every single bottle they could and then cramming in rare feathers around them to assure the glass wouldn’t break. Garreth wasn’t sure even the Ministry had such access to the materials he now had at his very fingertips.

When they had combed through the shelves the two set to the boxes and barrels on the floor. One was packed with dragon teeth and talons, another carpeted with a layer of phoenix feathers. Inger even found a shipment of jackalope horns from North America that she promptly busted open.

Garreth was in the middle of trying to shove over a heavy crate of tanned Graphorn hide to reach another box behind it when his robe caught. Bending down to loose it, he noticed it hadn’t caught on a nail or splintered board (as he had expected), but an old rusty handle set into the floor.

He got down on his hands and knees. It appeared to be the handle of a trapdoor of sorts.

“Hey Inger, come look at this.”

Inger appeared from the room with the archway, a large mahogany witch’s hat on her head. “What is it?”

Garreth laughed. The shabby hat was way too big for her and was nearly falling over her eyes. “Where’d you find that?”

“You like it?” She grinned and adjusted the hat’s threadbare brim. “There was a bunch of random stuff in there. The poachers probably stayed a couple days and one of them forgot this.” She took off the hat and crouched down beside Garreth. “Now what am I looking at, exactly?”

Garreth tugged at the handle and lifted the trapdoor from the floor, showering dust. It fell back with a thud, revealing a ladder reaching down into the shadowy darkness of a cellar. A wave of damp air washed over them.

Inger peered over Garreth’s shoulder, her nose wrinkled. “Huh.”

A secret cellar! This place couldn’t get any better. Garreth whipped out his wand and threw his legs over the side, already beginning to climb down the ladder. “Come on!”

“I’m good.”

Garreth blinked and stared up at her. “What?”

“You go ahead. I’ll stay up here.”

Well, this was certainly new. He’d never seen Inger be so hesitant.

“What are you, scared of the dark?”

Inger stood and looked at him like he’d just asked her if she liked brussel sprouts. “Absolutely not.”

“Then why don’t you want to come?”

She picked up her hat. “I just don’t feel like it. You look around down there, I’ll finish going through the crates.”

Garreth shrugged his shoulders. “Alright then.” If Inger wanted to miss out, that wasn’t his problem. He continued climbing down the ladder until he felt his feet touch the floor at the bottom.

He held out his wand in front of him. “Lumos.”

Even in what little light his wand offered, Garreth could tell it wasn’t at all what he’d been hoping for. The walls and floor were made of solid packed dirt and the ceiling consisted of floorboards from the room above. There was a very large rectangular crate near the back of the cellar and a few others randomly scattered, but not much else. He poked around in them, trying to see if they contained anything useful, but they were all empty.

The only point of any interest were a few old musty blankets in the corner, a couple of white and gray feathers, and what looked like hoof prints in the dirt. Rusty chains lay discarded along one wall.

Garreth tried to swallow the disgust that rose in his throat. It was clear the poachers, for whatever reason, had at one point been keeping a hippogriff down here. He’d heard from Inger about the horrible things poachers did, but he didn’t know it went so far as keeping a creature like a hippogriff tied up in a damp, dark cellar.

He was glad to get back up the ladder.

“What’d you find?” Inger asked as he slammed the trapdoor closed. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor and toying with the tip of the hat.

“Not much.” He ran a hand through his hair and rocked back on his heels. “It looks like they were keeping a hippogriff down there.”

“You’re joking.”

He gave a hollow chuckle. “I wish, but no.”

The fire that came into her eyes was instant. “Worthless scum, the whole lot of them.”

“Agreed.”

She seethed for a moment, then returned her attention to the hat in her hands. “There wasn’t much we could use in the other crates. Not anything we can’t get otherwise.” She chuckled to herself and held out her bulging pockets. “And it’s not like we’d be able to carry anything else, anyway.”

Garreth nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s check through it all one more time, make sure we’ve gotten everything we can and, with luck, we’ll get back to Hogwarts by midnight.”

Despite what he’d just found, he couldn’t help grinning. They’d been more successful than he’d hoped. Just as good was the fact that no owls had come pecking at the door, meaning their absence likely had yet to be discovered. He turned back to Inger, expecting her to agree with him, only to see that her gaze was otherwise focused and she wasn’t listening to him whatsoever.

“Inger? Did you hear-”

To his surprise Inger held up a hand. “Shh.” She paused. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“I thought I-” the color drained from her face.

His brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You look really pale. I mean, paler than usual, but you-

“SHH.”

Garreth snapped his mouth shut, glad she had cut him off before he made a bigger fool of himself. What in Merlin’s name was going on here?

A long moment passed between them with no noise other than their own breathing. Garreth strained his ears, trying to hear whatever it was Inger did.

A faint sound from beyond the door caught his attention. It was so quiet he wasn’t even sure it was real and not just his brain making it up. Crunching grass.

Another moment passed and he noticed the sound was growing louder.

Coming closer.

And then, realization hitting him like a brick wall, he knew.

His eyes snapped to Inger’s in terror as his brain cataloged the sound into the only thing it could be- the thing he’d trained himself to pick up on from working on his brews so many times in the potions classroom after hours.

Footsteps.

Only this time, the footsteps didn’t just carry the threat of a detention or two. Getting caught here meant something far worse.

Garreth cursed.

He barely knew what happened after that, only that his body reacted to the pounding rhythm of his heart and the adrenaline pumping through his veins and acted on the one coherent thought that was now screaming through his head.

They must. Not. Get. Caught.

He spun, stumbling, his brain whirling. Running wasn’t an option, that much was clear, and neither was fighting.

Hide it was, then.

Garreth could feel seconds ticking down as he bolted across the room and threw open the trapdoor leading into the cellar. Voices now accompanied the footsteps beyond the door.

HIDE. HIDE. HIDE.

He was halfway down the ladder when his heart nearly stopped beating altogether.

Inger, frozen in fear, hadn’t moved.

Leaping from the ladder onto the floor and skinning his elbow in the process, Garreth stumbled across the room and grabbed Inger’s elbow, yanking her towards the cellar. His legs shook and threatened to give way. A bottle fell from his pocket, smashing onto the floor.

He heard a key click. Feeling like he was about to vomit he shoved Inger down the ladder and jumped in himself. Grabbing the handle he slammed the cellar into the dark just as he heard the door open.

He froze, clinging to the ladder and trying not to breathe. Through his pounding heartbeat he could hear two sets of wildly uneven footsteps and two very slurred voices.

Two angry slurred voices, for that matter. He heard another bottle smash- they were obviously drunk.

Garreth waited until the voices and footsteps retreated to the small side room before he forced himself to move. Praying he could stay quiet and that the poachers were too tipsy to hear him, he felt his way to the ground and crawled on his hands and knees as far away from the ladder as he could get. Finding the large crate near the back with his hands, he crept around it into the corner.

Only when he felt the leather of Inger’s shoes and the silk lining of her robes did he allow himself to take a deep breath. She was safe.

“Inger,” he whispered as quietly as he could, wedging himself into the tight space beside her. He pulled out his wand and quickly cast Muffliato to further keep them from being overheard. “Are you okay?”

There was no answer, only breathing.

Very rushed, fast breathing.

And now that he was so close to her, Garreth realized that she was trembling.

He grit his teeth, trying to calm himself. Whatever panic that hadn’t been there before came rushing in full-force. “Inger?”

A mental checklist of the possibilities sprang into his head and he began to tick each one off. She had managed to crawl all the way over here without making noise- surely she didn’t have any injuries that surpassed a few bruises. He knew she wasn’t scared of the dark. She was likely warm enough, as the cellar wasn’t exactly freezing– though he knew she did get cold easily. Was that it? Was she just cold?

And then an idea surfaced, one that clicked neatly with everything else he knew about her. It seemed utterly outlandish, but he had to try.

“Inger, do you…” Oh Merlin, he was horrible at this. Swallowing hard he tried again, keeping his voice as low as possible. “I mean, are you by chance-”

A tiny voice reached his ears. “Claustrophobic?”

Relief surged over him as he heard her voice. “Yeah.”

“A little bit.”

Garreth was at a loss for words. Brave, strong Inger- claustrophobic. Even worse, it was obvious her fear was far greater than she was admitting.

He paused for a moment, listened to make sure the poachers were still in the side room, before lifting his wand and whispering ‘Lumos’.”

He nearly choked.

Terror was never an expression he thought he’d see on Inger’s face, but there it was. Her eyes were clenched shut and sweat glistened on her forehead. Her wand was clenched in her fist, fingers white from gripping it too hard. Guilt shot through him as he saw the flaming red bruises on her knees and right forearm.

He would do anything to get that look off her face.

“Oh Merlin, I- Inger, I am so so sorry. Just.. try to take deep breaths.” His tongue stuck in his mouth as he tried to think of something, anything, to help her. “What can I do?”

Her eyes remained closed, and Garreth could tell she was desperately fighting her natural instinct to run and scream with every shred of willpower she could muster.

“Talking helps,” she finally managed.

Talking? That was it? He could talk.

“Okay, uh…” He racked his brain. “Do you have a favorite color?”

Despite their circumstances, a strained smile appeared on Inger’s face. “You’re terrible.”

Garreth took another calming deep breath, a small grin appearing on his face, and allowed his nerves to settle. She would be okay. Even now, caught up in one of her worst nightmares, the same Inger was still there. All he had to do was keep her distracted.

“Alright, something else then.” He thought again. “Did I ever tell you that I have a really crazy fear, too?”

Inger’s eyes blinked open and she turned to look at him. She shuddered as she slowly shook her head.

Garreth leaned in closer, close enough he could count her freckles. “I am deathly afraid…” he took a dramatic pause. “Of frogs.”

Even with her shaky breathing, she nearly laughed. “Frogs?” she whispered.

His eyes twinkled. “Were you expecting something different?”

“No, I just… well, it’s not something I’d ever have pinned you to be scared of.”

“So it was unexpected.”

Her smile grew. “Alright fine, it was unexpected. You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Garreth hadn’t realized how interesting her eyes were before. They were a warm brown, he’d known that, but he’d never seen the golden flecks around her pupil, or how they brought out the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. They were beautiful, really.

He caught himself staring and quickly pulled himself back to a more friendly distance- or at least, the closest he could get to a friendly distance without moving the crate that was pressed against his right shoulder blade. What had she asked him again? Was he messing with her?

“Unfortunately not,” he said, hoping she couldn’t see the heat in his face. “Hated ‘em my entire life- slimy little buggers, they are.” He thought for another few seconds. “Actually, I think the scientific name is ‘amphibians.’”

Inger chuckled, the sound cutting through the tense air in the small dark space. “You’re such a dork.”

He grinned, encouraged. “Guilty as charged.”

They fell into an easy conversation, talking about anything and everything they could think of to distract themselves from the situation at hand. They talked about Hogwarts, their friends, their dreams for the future, and their favorite books. Garreth let his mouth run. He told her how much he missed home and his little brother. How excited he was to see them in the summer and how he would go swimming in the river that ran behind the barn.

It was a surreal experience, Garreth thought, to be sitting in the dark with Inger like this. They had always been friends, but this was something different.

If only they weren't stuck in a cellar with the very real possibility of dying looming over their heads.

“Okay, next question,” Garreth said. “You grew up in Denmark, right?”

She nodded.

“Do you speak Danish?”

“I grew up speaking both English and Danish, yes.”

“Can you teach me?”

She gave him a wry look. “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? It’ll be fun.”

Inger rolled her eyes. “Alright then. What do you want to say?”

“How about ‘Sharp is a Merlin-forsaken arse?’”

She snorted, laughing. “Godric’s teeth, Garreth, he’ll tie you to a Graphorn for saying that.”

He grinned goofily. “Humor me.”

“Alright.” She cleared her throat. “‘Sharp er en Merlin-forladt røv.’”

“‘Sharp er en Merlin-forladt røv,’” he repeated. “How was that?”

“Horrible,” she chuckled. “But you’ll get it eventually.”

“Ah, Sharp won’t know the difference.”

It wasn’t difficult to come up with things to talk about after that. Garreth asked how to say a variety of random phrases in Danish and Inger quoted them back to him, trying not to laugh too loudly. He noted with satisfaction that her grip on her wand had relaxed and that she was no longer hyperventilating- it was working. He also found that he was quite enjoying their conversation, even though they both knew he really wasn’t learning anything. It was simply nice to talk to her.

As the hours passed, exhaustion began to set in. Garreth, however, was determined that he not fall asleep first. Fortunately, Inger also began to get tired, and Garreth managed to keep the conversation going until her sentences began to fade and her eyelids began to droop.

“You know you don’t have to stay awake,” he told her as he watched her pinch herself in the arm.

“No, I can do it,” she said, even as her eyes drifted closed. “I can do this.”

Garreth shook his head affectionately- she was too stubborn for her own good. He eased her wand from her hand and tucked it beside her. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

“You’ll just fall asleep too,” she murmured softly.

“No I won’t. Trust me.”

She mumbled something else, but Garreth didn’t find a need to ask her what it was. She was already slumping against him, head resting on his shoulder, too tired to debate further.

Garreth waited until her breathing became slow and deep and he knew she was completely asleep before easing her to the ground into a more comfortable position, resting her head on his thigh. She suddenly seemed so small… and her face was at peace, having lost the tension from the past few hours.

Almost instantly he regretted having let her go to sleep- sitting there with no one to talk to, nothing to do, was nearly unbearable. He kept his thoughts in check and managed to occupy himself by comparing his wand to Inger’s. When that got old he drew in the dust with one of the hippogriff feathers he found on the ground.

Neither activity lasted very long.

He tried to stay awake after that, he really did, but Inger’s quiet breaths and the cool underground air and his own exhaustion proved it impossible.

It wasn’t long before he dropped into sleep himself.

___________

A deafening crash shook them awake.

Garreth’s head snapped up, slamming against the wall behind him. He blinked dazedly. How long had he been asleep? He lifted a hand and rubbed his head, slowly taking in his surroundings.

It appeared the same as before- the crate, the dirt walls, the musty blankets and the plentiful dust on the floor. Only this time, dust was falling through the boards in the ceiling and–He blinked again. Was that sunlight?

Inger sneezed, and Garreth quickly helped her sit up. His neck and shoulders ached from having slept in such an uncomfortable position.

“You okay?” he asked, checking over her himself.

“Yeah, I-” she looked around, then instantly closed her eyes again. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

She clenched her teeth and nodded, keeping her eyes shut. “Just forgot where we were. I promise, I’m okay.” She felt around for her wand and Garreth handed it to her. “What was that noise?”

“I’m not sure…” Garreth grabbed his own wand and shifted onto his knees to peer over the crate.

“Should we get out?”

He bit his lip. “I don’t-”

The trapdoor slammed open and Garreth ducked behind the crate again, his heart pounding. Had they really lasted so long only to get killed by a couple of good-for-nothing poachers?

“GARRETH?!” A high voice yelled.

His arms went limp. Thank Merlin.

Matilda Weasley marched around the crate, hands on her hips. “What in Merlin’s name are you two doing here?!”

Inger was staring at Garreth’s aunt like she was an angel. He quickly picked himself up and brushed off his robes. “Uh…”

“We were exploring, Professor,” Inger stammered.

Professor Weasley’s eyes narrowed. “You got trapped in an underground poacher’s hideout an hour’s flight from Hogwarts while you were exploring?”

Inger lowered her eyes, her face flushed with embarrassment. “We’re sorry, Professor,” she mumbled.

“And what about you, young man?” the Deputy Headmistress snapped. She grabbed Garreth by his robe and pulled him to his feet. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I-...” The truth was there wasn’t much to say at all. “How did you find us?”

His aunt fumed. “When word reached me that you both weren’t in your common rooms last night, I sent out owl after owl to look for you. We were in the middle of organizing a search party when one of them came back. Professor Ronen and I followed it, and it led us here.” Here she inhaled deeply through her nose- an attempt to calm herself. “We think it saw your brooms that you so carelessly left outside.”

Garreth winced. It was a miracle they hadn’t been discovered earlier.

“What happened to the poachers?” Inger asked.

Professor Weasley straightened, clasping her hands in front of her. “They’re on their way to a nice chat with the Ministry. As for this place… well, let’s just say it’s been rendered quite useless.” She frowned at the crate they were still behind and flicked her wand at it. It instantly transfigured into a large leather suitcase. Inger’s jaw dropped.

“I trust you can pack all your… findings… in that,” Garreth’s aunt said, nodding towards the suitcase. “In the meantime, I need to let Ronen know that you’re both safe and send an owl back to Hogwarts. I would suggest you hurry.” She looked at both of them, making sure they understood, then spun and unceremoniously climbed out of the cellar.

Garreth and Inger gaped at each other, and as soon as the professor was out of earshot, they both simultaneously burst out laughing.

Wiping his eyes, Garreth fell back to the floor. “Merlin’s beard, that could have been bad.”

Inger, still chuckling, began to busily empty her pockets into the suitcase. “I’m just glad it was your aunt and not the poachers.”

“We were certainly lucky, that’s for sure.” He got to his knees again and began to join her. “Do you still have that satchel?”

Inger nodded. “It’s here.” She lifted the strap from over her head and gently settled it into place among the variety of bottles. “Glad I didn’t decide to take it off.”

The task was a quick one. No sooner had Garreth squeezed in a last vial of mermaid blood than Inger closed the lid and snapped shut the latches. Garreth grabbed the handle and swung it up from the ground.

“Well,” he said, pocketing his wand and swinging the case. “That took longer than I thought it would.”

Inger was already on her way towards the ladder. “That’s putting it lightly, and you know it.” She reached the top and leaned down to help Garreth get the suitcase up.

“Aw come on,” he wheedled, handing her the case and starting up the rungs. “You can’t deny it was at least a little fun.”

“Terrifying, dangerous, frankly one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done…” She grinned at him. “And a little fun.

“Only a little?”

Inger gave him her hand and pulled him to his feet. “A lot of fun.”

Then, with a resolute bang, she slammed the trapdoor shut.

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter #hogwarts legacy mc #gryffindor #hogwarts oc #garreth weasley #inger eve nilsdott #garreth weasley x mc

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