#Professor Sharp fanfiction
Text
Patched Up
Aesop Sharp x Fem! Student! Reader
Tags: Minor injuries.
Word Count: 2.2k
“I won’t keep you any longer.”
꩜꩜꩜꩜
He wasn’t surprised when you showed up at the classroom after curfew.
He had gotten used to you showing up at all hours of the day. If he didn’t know you as well and personally as he did, he would’ve been under the impression that all you ever did was roam the corridors of the castle and pop in whenever you felt like it.
Sometimes your visit was just for a quick hello, other times it was for a “real” reason. He never knew what to expect whenever you came bopping in, but not that he was complaining.
He heard your footsteps from the hallway, a heads up that let him know you were about to enter. He was familiar with the sound of your steps, and he could only imagine why you were coming at such a late hour.
Of course he knew it wasn’t Potions related at all, but he still liked to make the same joke every time you came by when the school day was over.
“Are you here for a late Potions lesson?” He didn’t even turn away from the chalkboard to look at you. “It’s a bit late for that.”
“Afraid not,” You grinned, standing in the open doorway. “Is it such a crime for a student to visit her favorite professor?”
“I suppose not. It is an occasional occurrence,” He answered. “Although, lately the random visits have been usually saved for my personal chambers.”
“That’s true,” You grinned. “I was hoping that you’d be up for consoling a broken Quidditch player.”
His anxiety kicked in then, his protective mode turning on immediately…despite your bubbly tone. He forgot about the Potions formula he had been glancing over, his head peeking around the wall that blocked you from his sight.
The sight of your dirty practice uniform and the dirt caked on parts of your face and arms were a tell-tale sign to him that you were coming from the Quidditch field. There were a few scattered scrapes on your legs, and the way that you held your posture made it clear that you were hurt somewhere else on your body.
Abandoning his prep for the next day’s Potions classes, he swiftly approached you. He was gentle as he ushered you further into the room, closing the classroom door behind him and guiding you to his desk chair.
“How did this happen exactly?” He asked.
He was careful as he assisted you in lowering yourself into the chair. Your muscles definitely needed the rest, and if your shoulder hadn’t been hurting you so much, you could’ve fallen asleep right there.
“I had Quidditch practice tonight,” You answered. “These night practices are killing me. Quidditch is impossible to play in the dark…even with illumination charms.”
He put the pieces together without you even saying it. He was very observant when it came to you and had an impressive memory.
“Did you fall off of your broom again?” He asked, taking your chin into his hand to get a better look at your face.
“Yeah,” You replied dryly. “Bludger knocked me off.”
He made a small hum as he glanced over your features to check for any cuts or scrapes that you might’ve missed. He was relieved to see that despite being a little battered up, you were otherwise in good spirits.
“That’s the second time this week,” He remarked. “Where is this carelessness coming from?”
“It wasn’t careless. It’s dark out and I didn’t see the Bludger,” You corrected. “And that’s just part of playing Quidditch. It happens.”
“Not to you it doesn’t. You’re the best on the team,” He said. “Where did the Bludger hit?”
He watched carefully as you brought your hand to the base of your neck, tapping the space between your collarbone and shoulder.
“Right here,” You sighed. “It didn’t start hurting until practice was over. That’s when I came here.”
“You mean that you got back on your broom after you fell?” His face contorted into an expression of disbelief.
With a careful hand, he pulled the collar of your jersey down just enough so he could see the area that made contact with the Bludger. Sure enough, there was a decent bruise well on its way to being fully developed by tomorrow morning.
“I didn’t fall very far. I was pretty close to the ground,” You shrugged. “My shoulder took most of the damage.”
“Are you certain you’re not hurt anywhere else? You didn’t get hurt when you hit the ground?” He gingerly rotated your arm to test its mobility.
“Like I said, I didn’t fall far. The school’s Quidditch field just isn’t equipped to be played on at night.”
This was a common complaint amongst Hogwarts’ Quidditch players. Playing early in the morning and at night was just too dangerous when visibility was low. Aesop was right that this wasn’t the first time that this had happened to you in recent weeks. There had been several close calls, but only twice had you actually hit the ground after falling off. You were just lucky that your body had taken both hits instead of your head.
“Then why do you play on it at night?” He asked the obvious.
“It’s not up to me. The team captain sets the practice schedule,” You explained. “You know that I prefer to practice in the morning.”
Aesop knew that he could lecture you about being more careful and trying to convince your team’s captain to adjust the practice schedule to be during the daytime, but he knew that you weren’t up for a scolding…and he knew that you probably wouldn’t listen anyway. Quidditch was your greatest passion, and he knew that nagging you about it wouldn’t do you any good.
“It isn’t broken, and it doesn’t seem to be dislocated,” He stated, referring to your collarbone. “But I can guarantee that it will be uncomfortable tomorrow if you don’t take something. Is it hurting you now?”
Aesop was a worrier. You didn’t want him getting all fussed up over a little Bludger bruise. If he knew about even half the injuries that you sustained from Quidditch, he would’ve tried to convince you to quit by now. Sure, it felt like your arm was about to detach from the socket, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
“It’s a little sore.” You partially lied.
He leaned against the edge of his desk that was closest to you, his arms crossing over his chest. He caught the slight change in pitch in your voice when you answered, immediately alerting him that you weren’t being totally truthful.
“I thought you said that it started hurting after practice?” He recalled. “If you’re hurt, I need to know.”
It was difficult to get anything past him. You knew better.
“Wiggenweld would probably be a smart idea…” You sighed, feeling ashamed for trying to pull a fast one on him.
“That’s what I thought,” He scoffed. “I presume you don’t have the ingredients to make it yourself?”
You couldn’t help but huff at him. You were beginning to think that he was feeling inconvenienced that you had walked all the way here for his help.
It wasn’t like you were asking him to brew anything super complicated. As a matter of fact, you weren’t asking him to brew anything at all. Aesop always kept Wiggenweld close by.
“I don’t. That’s always why I came here,” You shook your head. “If it’s too much trouble, I can just go to Pippin’s and buy a few vials.”
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be wandering around Hogsmeade at this hour,” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, retrieving a small vial of the bright green liquid. “You really should keep Wiggenweld on you at all times. Especially if you’re going to keep getting beat up during Quidditch.”
He wasn’t wrong. You spent enough time on a broom that it was only a matter of time where luck would outweigh your skill, and the luck wouldn’t be in your favor. This wasn’t the first time that you had sought Aesop out after a bruising Quidditch session, but you knew that you couldn’t always expect him to be there to patch you up every time.
“I’m sorry I bothered you with this.” You removed the cap off of the bottle, eyeing the liquid inside.
His expression softened, his stern demeanor relaxing into a more comfortable position. He sheepishly shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, nudging your foot with his as a gesture of reassurance.
Aesop forgot sometimes that his genuine worry for your health and well-being sometimes came off as aggressive and irritable. That was certainly not his intention.
“You didn’t bother me,” He gave a small smile, gesturing towards the vial in your hand. “Drink up. Down the hatch.”
As common as Wiggenweld was, you wished that some genius potioneer would work towards finding a way to make it taste better. Nonetheless, you gulped it down in two swallows, immediately feeling its effect. The sharp ache in your shoulder subsided gradually until it fully disappeared, and the scrapes on your lower extremities faded within seconds.
“Better?” He took the empty container from your hands.
“Much better,” You sighed. “Thanks.”
“Of course. Are you certain that you’re alright otherwise?” His brows furrowed in concern.
“I’m okay. I just need to get cleaned up and go to bed,” You shifted, preparing to stand up. “I won’t keep you any longer.”
He reached for your hand, helping you to your feet as if you’d collapse. He hated to see you go, and he definitely didn’t want you to leave with the thought that you had irritated him.
“I assure you that you’re not imposing on me,” He said, pulling you in between his legs to keep you from going just yet. “Did you get a chance to eat before practice?”
He always asked that question. Every single time he saw you after practice, he asked you that same question. His arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him.
“No. I was running late.” You replied, knowing what he was going to say next.
One of his hands came to your collar, checking to be sure that the Wiggenweld had done its job.
“You need to eat,” He tutted. “You use a lot of energy playing Quidditch, especially with how rough you play. You need to replenish the energy.”
“I’m tired.” You whined.
“I don’t care,” He remarked. “You need to eat something.”
“I want to shower and go to bed.” You argued.
“Eat, shower, and then bed. If you eat then you can use my shower.” He offered.
A certain glow appeared on your cheeks, shining through the layers of dirt and exhaustion. His heart soared at the sight. His soul exploded with joy and fulfillment with the knowledge that you were so positively responsive to him.
“And sleep in your bed?” You pleaded.
He let out a low chuckle. He had known that question was coming.
“That can be arranged,” He pressed a soft kiss to the middle of your forehead. “But food comes first.”
He wasn’t going to let you get away without getting some food in your belly. He was right after all, you needed the nourishment to make up for lost energy. He swayed you away from his desk, escorting you out of the classroom and accompanying you to The Great Hall. Dinnertime was well over, but there was always a way to scrounge up a meal after hours.
Side by side, the two of you walked together through the corridors to get to your destination. The castle was mostly quiet, considering that everyone else had turned in for the night. Peeves, as usual, was cackling and jabbering about something somewhere off in the distance.
The two of you continued to chat along the way, catching up on what had happened since you had seen one another last. His pinky finger found yours, wrapping around it as a small gesture of affection. It was a comfort to him if nothing else, but he’d feel better once he knew you were fed, clean, and comfortable.
He liked taking care of you. He wanted you to feel your best always, and he would do whatever he had to do to ensure that you were happy.
“Are you coming to my Quidditch match on Saturday? I’d like you to see that all these scrapes and bruises aren’t for nothing.”
Aesop wasn’t particularly the world’s biggest Quidditch fan. He kept up with the pro-Quidditch leagues and followed the scores of his favorite teams. However, as far as going out of his way to actually go see a match was unlikely.
But in recent months, he had been frequenting the Hogwarts matches…mainly the ones where you were playing.
“Frankly, I’m beginning to think that you’re purposefully getting all roughed up as an excuse for my off the record medical services.” He joked.
“I would hardly consider them to be services. Anybody can spare me a vial or two of Wiggenweld,” You bantered. “But in all seriousness, will you come?”
He chuckled again, much lower and even sweeter this time. A sense of warmth and peace rushed over you when he pressed a kiss to your temple, a hum of affirmation sounding from his chest as he did so.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
#aesop sharp#aesop sharp x reader#aesop sharp x fem! reader#aesop sharp x female reader#aesop sharp x you#aesop sharp x y/n#aesop sharp fluff#aesop sharp fanfiction#professor sharp#professor sharp x reader#professor sharp x fem! reader#professor sharp x female reader#professor sharp x you#professor sharp x y/n#professor sharp fluff#professor sharp fanfiction#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#seriouslysnape
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Sharpuary day 2: shadow
18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen
warnings: swearing
As I was walking down the corridor towards the library, I paused. Professor sharp had just turned the corner in front of me. Tilting my head, I followed him to his classroom.
“Aesop?” I said as I went in. He turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. My eyes were firmly fixed on the floor behind him.
“Why…” I took a step forward and knelt down. “Why do you have a kitten following you around?” Aesop sighed and looked down at his feet where the small black kitten was trying to climb over his boot.
“Eleazars protege gave it to me.” He said, his tone suggesting he wasn’t thrilled by the gift. “Said something about me needing a friend.” Aesop gave me a slight smirk. “I didn’t have it in me to tell them I already had one.” I rolled my eyes at him as I gently picked up the kitten. “It’s been following me around like a damn shadow ever since.”
“has anyone actually noticed?” I asked, laughing as the kitten squirmed slightly, apparently hell bent on trying to get back to Aesop.
“well clearly they did.” He sighed. “And you. Black may have almost noticed…” Aesop looked between me and the kitten in my hands.
“how did you get away from that?” I laughed. Aesop reached out and gently scratched the kittens chin.
“some students may try to tell you about a strange, maybe elaborate dance I was doing while talking to black…” Aesop trailed off, cheeks tinting pink. "But rest assured they would be wrong. Very very wrong."
“for godrics sake Aesop!” I laughed. Aesop blushed even further as he started to pull his hand back from the kitten. The kitten started to whine in protest and Aesop moved closer to continue stroking it. “Don’t tell me you’re already attached to the thing!” Not meeting my eyes, Aesop gently took the kitten from me and deposited it in his coat pocket.
“now where would you get an idea like that?” He grunted. I laughed as he pointedly turned away from me to write on the chalkboard. I moved to lean against it, keeping an eye on his face.
“maybe the fact that you tried oh so very hard to keep black from noticing the poor thing.” I teased. “Or the fact that you have it riding around in your fucking pocket at this very moment!” Aesop paused and looked down just as the dark fuzzy head of the kitten popped up.
"I suppose you're right." He chuckled, looking back up at me. "I can't keep it in my classroom though. It's going to get trampled." I nodded.
"Well first thing is we need to name it." I said, reaching into Aesop's pocket and pulling out the kitten. "I think Shadow is the perfect name for this little guy." The kitten mewled in agreement and I looked at Aesop.
"I think so too." He agreed, reaching out to scratch it behind the ears.
"Second, I'll take Shadow to my room. You can come visit after classes are done for the day." I said, starting towards the door.
"Wait! Don't you have classes as well today?" Aesop called after me. I shook my head.
"They got cancelled!" I called back. "Weather is too bad and there isn't a classroom for me to take. So I have the day off!" I waved to him as I left the room. "Enjoy teaching Professor Sharp!" I laughed as I heard him grumbling behind me.
#aesop sharp#aesop sharp x reader#aesop sharp fanfic#aesop sharp fanfiction#aesop sharp imagine#professor sharp#professor sharp x reader#professor sharp fanfic#professor sharp fanfiction#professor sharp imagine#sharpuary#sharpuary 2024#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy imagine
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Do you have any headcanons for Professor Sharp, including his boggart? Sorry about spamming your asks.
No need to apologize! I love the asks ❤️
Random Professor Sharp headcanons by me!
Ah yes, Aesop Sharp
Dude was definitely in Slytherin without a doubt.
He’s probably a half-blood or a pureblood.
He is TALL. I imagine if he had any siblings they would be pretty tall too.
He did not want to become a professor at first. He had no interest in being around any kid or teenager so why would he? But he was good at potions and thought that the next generation of witches and wizards needed a good teacher, so he took the position as Potions professor.
He was a really good Auror and he loved his job, which is another reason why he took it so hard when he could no longer work as one.
He and Solomon Sallow probably worked together at least once while they were both Aurors.
He’s unmarried and has no kids. Although he was close to getting married once, he was engaged but then it just didn’t work out and they both parted their ways.
Very reserved guy. He doesn’t talk much unless he has to.
Doesn’t allow tomfoolery in his classroom. Joking around? Detention. Talking too loud while he’s giving a lecture? Detention. He already has to deal with Garreth all the time, he’s not about to let any other kid disrupt the classroom as well.
There was a Dueling club similar to Crossed Wands dueling club back when Aesop was in school and he attended it regularly. He was actually pretty good at it.
Out of all the professors, he probably talks to Professor Black the most, but he often has conversations with Professor Weasley, Professor Kogowa, and Professor Ronen.
He had a hard enough time dealing with Garreth’s older brothers when they were at school and so when Garreth showed up and was ten times worse, he about had a heart attack.
Had to lock his office specifically cuz Garreth would always sneak in and grab potion ingredients and blow up the classroom.
If he played quidditch in school, he probably was a chaser or beater.
Hates when people bring up the injury to his leg and the fact that he has a limp. Although he won’t get mad when his students ask why.
After years of working as a Professor, he did soften up a bit and he actually grew pretty fond of his students even if they made him want to yank his hair out 24/7 with how much of a handful they could be.
That being said, since your fears change with the new experiences you have. I’d honestly say that Sharp’s boggart would probably have to do with losing one of his students. As stressful as they are, he cares a lot about them and their safety which is another reason why he gets mad at Garreth a lot.
He won’t admit it but he’s dreading the day Garreth graduates school because he knows his job will get boring again until the next chaotic Weasley joins in.
Knows Sebastian and Ominis surprisingly well. He’s not too fond of the other slytherin students but he liked Sebastian and Ominis because although Sebastian is a troublemaker, they’re both intelligent and he doesn’t feel like he’s having to explain things 100 times over while talking to them.
That and he pities Ominis sometimes for always failing tests. He’s definitely tried to personally tutor him in hopes to help him in potions.
#hogwarts legacy#hl#Professor Sharp#aesop sharp#aesop sharp fanfiction#Professor Sharp fanfiction#Professor sharp headcanons#Hogwarts legacy headcanons#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#come get yo mans ladies and gents
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Me, every time someone likes my fanfic:
#hogwarts legacy#fanfiction#my fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#professor sharp fanfiction#aesop sharp fanfiction#professor sharp
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❁𝓣𝓮𝓪 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼❁
𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 : 𝒜𝑒𝓈𝑜𝓅 𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓅 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 : >𝟣.𝟥𝓀
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 / 𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 : 𝐼𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 , 𝒯𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓅𝑒𝓉 , 𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 .
𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 : 𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝒶𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝑒𝒹𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎..
𝒫𝓇𝑜𝑜𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 : 𝒴𝑒𝓈
Late nights were the only times where Aesop had time away from his students, a breath of fresh air if you will. Well, except for one student, he always loved her company even when he'd never admit it, every time she came down to his classroom she bared new blends of tea for him to try and enjoy, each blend she brought was more enjoyable than the last..
"Don't you know lurking is rude?" His gruff voice spoke as he flipped through long parchment pages of his students' latest assignment. The heavy door to the potions room swung forth to reveal her, holding a tin boxe like how she did every wednesday night, though tonight she had a second tin. "I'm sorry Professor.." She muttered stepping into the classroom, she always was nervous around the Potions Master, though she couldn't understand why? He was always so kind and soft when it came to her. "Ah, hello.. How are you this evening?" His voice dropped slightly as the heavy wooden door shut behind her, her ankle leather boot heels clicking against the floor as she walked towards the man, the two tins grasped tightly in her hands.
"I'm well, and you sir?" She smiled as she placed the boxes onto the man's desk and pulled a stool from one of the potions stations over to sit next to her potions professor. "Ah, same old same old, I feel as if I have thorns in my leg. But that is not the focus of tonight. What did you bring this time?" Aesop grunted as he placed down his quill and watched the girl gingerly place the boxes in her lap and remove one of the lids to reveal a tie, a black tie? "Here." She smiled, pushing the box in front of Aesop, watching him examine its contents well, sharply. His eyes narrowed slightly as he picked up the tie and examined it, it had a wiggenweld potion bottle embroidered on it, with his initials sewn onto the bottle with white.
"Oh, this is.." Aesop gave a rare smile as he started to tug at his current tie and slipped it from around his neck. He handed her his old tie and slipped the one his students had taken the time to embroider such a special gift for him around his neck and started to tie it, his smile never wavered as he showed it off to her, she placed his tie on the desk folded up nicely as to avoid any wrinkles. "Do you like it.?" Her voice was soft, kind, the same tone she had always used with everyone. "Like? Oh no no, I adore it. Thank you.." That rare smile continued to play on his face, she couldn't help but smile bashfully, those beautiful doe eyes scanning her professor as he scooted back into his desk.
"My father had sent a new brew for you to try, he hopes that it tastes better than the last one." The student giggled as she stood carrying the box of tea towards Aesop's kettle. Her hands shaked, she knew how he liked his tea, exactly how much creamer and sugar to put in, if he wanted honey that day or not. Particular little details that are so difficult for the average person to realize. "Your father is a generous man. How is he?" The man turned to his books and gently slid them aside as his student placed the tea in front of him. "He's doing alright, a lot of fire related injuries at Saint Mungo's as of late.." She hummed in response, placing her own cup of tea down as she watched her professor sip his cup.
"It smells like..." He paused taking another whiff of the tea's scent. "An English breakfast tea?" Aesop cocked an eyebrow as he sipped the tea. The migraine he had felt all day was starting to subside by the second, his rusted old joints felt ten times smoother, as if he was an old piece of machinery getting the maintenance it so desperately needed. "Professor Sharp?" She spoke, clearing the silence, he stared at her in utter disbelief. "What exactly is in this tea?" He asked, his student shrugged. "A brewer doesn't kiss and tell, sir." Her smile was contagious as she sipped her own cup.
The sounds of thunder cracked and boomed outside, the night was definitely one of deserving tea and sensible conversation. As the professor and student spoke there was an unlifted feeling in the air. Something that neither could describe. The student seemed lost in her thoughts as she listened to the sounds of the soft rain tapping against the potions classroom windows. "My dear?" Aesop cocked his head slightly to gain the girl's attention, her head shot to look at the gruff man with an embarrassed smile. "My apologies professor.. I've been.. distracted." Aesop scoffed ruggedly and waved his hand dismissively. "Well don't let it stray you from your work. You have lots to do." The girl rolled her eyes and laughed at the man's words.
"So, do you like this tea blend?" She scans his face, wondering what was going on behind those tired gray, charcoal eyes. He was always so difficult to understand but in moments like these she truly loved to see the softer, more genuine side of him. "It is rather delicious, I hope I can give my thanks to your father in person one day." The girl smiled at his words with that pretty, contagious smile that always got everyone else to smile, Aesop couldn't even deny that he has caught himself smiling from time to time whenever he sees her succeeding in his class. She has such a bright future ahead of her, a truly wonderful witch that will go so far not only in the medicine and potions field but in the justice and protection field. The sense of justice she has is utterly adorable and adoration worthy.
She grew quieter than usual as the wind howled like the mongrels that lurked in the forbidden forest. "Professor..?" Her whisper did not go on deaf ears, "Yes?" He responded, placing down his cup of tea. "Nevermind.." She shook her head and stood. "I-I shall see you tomorrow for potions, sir." Aesop pursed his lips, after almost two years of these little meetings she was still hiding something from him. "Hey, come here." He beckoned her back over to him, his presence was oddly comforting and yet.. dangerous at the same time. "Yes, Professor Sharp?" She pushed a strand of hair from her face as Aesop spoke finally after a little bit of a silence. "Is there something that you aren't telling me?" His student clasped her hands in front of her as she now avoided eye contact.
"There are a lot of things that I can't tell you professor.. as I am afraid you will look at me differently and feel disappointed in me." Her soft gaze fell to Aesop's tie as she stood before the man that had managed to somehow be holding her heart in his clutches on a daily basis. "My dear, disappointed? You are one of, if not my brightest student in my classes. How could I ever be disappointed in you?" The man shook his head, he was normally never this soft towards his students but she brought out a side behind closed doors no one besides her would ever see, he reached a hand forwards and gently placed it on her shoulder trying to get her to look at him again. "Maybe because I'm in love with you.." Aesop blinked, he was utterly shocked, he had expected so many other things to escape her lips but that?
Never in a million years would he have guessed the words that she was in love with him to come from her. He swallowed the lump in his throat before finally speaking, his voice low and firm like how it always had been.. "It'll pass..." She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and breathed shakily, "I don't think it will.. good night sir.. enjoy your tea." She made haste for the door, abandoning her tea cup next to his as she shut the door behind her and ran as fast as she could back to her common room.
Aesop closed his eyes in slight frustration as he heard the door to the potions classroom slam shut heavily. Glancing down at the tea cup he picked it up and sighed.
A/N : Im ngl I did kinda hurt my own feelings writing this thing. The "It'll pass" quote is from my absolute FAVORITE HL creator on TT @ salixtree love her and her work <3
#professor aesop sharp#professor sharp x reader#professor sharp fanfiction#aesop sharp#daddy sharp#x fem reader#x reader#professor x student#angst#forbidden love
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Amortentia Chapter 2: “A Little Liquid Luck” now up on A03
This is turning out to be longer than I originally planned. I’ve been writing pretty much All Day, and it was just getting too long. Not everyone has the time to sit for an hour and read, so I decided to split it off into two separate chapters. Expect the next one within the next few days, it’s already half-done thanks to my excessive need to drag things out.
But we are starting to get Steamy up in here... Quite Literally.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/45307606/chapters/114146989
#Aesop Sharp#Professor Sharp#Amortentia#Professor Sharp x OC#Professor Sharp Fanfiction#Aesop Sharp Fanfiction
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The crossover of the century: HL meets Derry Girls.
#hogwarts legacy#derry girls#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy mc#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#ominis gaunt#hogwarts legacy rookwood#professor weasley#professor sharp#professor fig#solomon sallow#anne sallow#headmaster black
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Some Like It Sharp
You and professor Sharp became very close after the events of your fifth year at Hogwarts. Just how close is unspoken for a long time. Until it isn't.
I know I should be writing father Paul, but I started playing Hogwarts Legacy and became a little addicted. And then I went to potions class. I saw professor Sharp, in all his limping scarred glory and immediately thought 'Oh. Oh no...' And that was that.
EDIT: I MANAGED TO ADD SOME VOICELINES ON AO3
tw: age difference (reader is 17-18, which is of age in the wizarding world), student-teacher relationship, mentions of trauma (emotional and physical)
Some Like It Sharp
(8.6k words)
You sighed deeply as your brow furrowed in concentration. Six finely crushed snake fangs soon disappeared in your cauldron. Momentarily, you lifted your eyes and gazed longingly at the person across the room from you. Professor Aesop Sharp was sitting at his round desk, a quill in his hand and a stack of third years’ essays in front of him. Every now and then, you could hear him utter a soft ‘tsk’, his dark hair bouncing as he shook his head. Even in his annoyance he was beautiful, you thought. Despite being a Slytherin, he reminded you of a lion, so strong and proud, not even his obvious limp was able to tarnish the image.
“Miss (L/N).” sounded right next to your ear, making you jump and turn your head towards the voice. Your wide startled eyes connected with professor Sharp’s own intense dark orbs. ‘When did he move?’ you thought, your heart in your throat.
“Miss, (L/N), I believe I asked you to brew a cure for boils. However, whatever concoction is currently in your cauldron looks more like it would cause them. Care to explain yourself?”
You hurriedly looked down at your cauldron and discovered the potion master was right. Instead of the orange hue the potion should have at this stage, it was a rather distasteful shade of swamp green. ‘How could this have happened?’
“Sir,” you began meekly, “I’m sorry, I don't know-... I think I got-”
“Distracted?” asked professor Sharp matter of factly, his voice lacking any sort of the annoyance it’d usually have. “Do tell, Miss (L/N),” he started circling around you like a predator, his lame leg not making the motion any less intimidating, “do you feel like my classes are so boring, or so easy, perhaps, that you can afford to daydream while ruining a first year potion?”
Your eyes hadn't left him for a second. You shivered involuntarily. You were the only person in the classroom. ‘When did everyone leave?’ “No, sir, I- O-of course not, I-?”
A single long digit pressed against your slightly open mouth, effectively cutting your eloquent speech short. Sharp stood in front of you now, and you felt your cheeks turning red. You exhaled shakily. “Daydreaming in my class… I don’t think detention is enough of a punishment. Do you?” Sharp practically purred into your ear, his acute words said in an almost teasing manner. He was so close now, so close you felt his hot breath on your neck as he spoke, his forefinger replaced by his thumb on your mouth, and he pulled the lower lip down, opening your mouth further.
You couldn't speak, only able to stare at his mouth as he pulled back slightly to look at you. A small smile appeared on his face and he finally moved forward, sealing his mouth over your own and immediately pushing his tongue inside. You gasped, but almost right away threw your hands around his neck and succumbed to his bruising kiss.
“(F/N),” he sighed once you had to part for breath. You smiled at him and wanted to connect your lips once more. Only then -
“(F/N)! Come on, wake up, we’re going to be late for Transfiguration!” you heard someone call out.
“What?” you asked and looked around. You weren’t in the potions classroom, nor were you standing in professor Sharp’s embrace. You weren’t standing at all, actually. Your dormitory’s light blue walls appeared before your eyes, as well as an annoyed face of Samantha Dale.
—
"You are so lucky I forgot my homework upstairs!" panted Samantha, "Otherwise I would have gone straight to class after breakfast. And you'd still be asleep." You were pretty much running, not wanting to be late for professor's Weasley's class, yet you casted a grateful smile in Samantha's direction: "You are a lifesaver, Sam."
Samantha kept rambling on, as she usually did, but your mind was still focused on your dream.
You and professor Sharp had gotten particularly close during the past year and a half. Ever since your last battle with Ranrok, the potions master treated you a little differently. Most of the professors did, of course, but you found a sense of peace with Sharp especially.
You missed professor Fig every day. He was something of a father figure for you nearly from day one, and you felt all sorts of broken watching him die in your arms.
The first time professor Sharp invited you into his office outside of class, you felt strangely numb still, your exhaustion and grief leaving you with what felt like a hole in your heart. Some of the other professors sat you down before them previously, and you forced yourself to fake a little smile and persuade them that you were alright.
It didn’t work on Sharp. He didn’t pry, didn’t force you to relive the painful memories as you thought he would. Instead his chatter was nearly light, talking about your school work, hobbies, the various activities outside of the castle, even talking about himself every once in a while. Soon you realised you found solace in your conversations.
Only when you were given time to heal did you dare to actually talk about what happened that day… That year, really. Professor Sharp listened quietly, never pressing for details you weren’t ready to give, only asking for further explanation sometimes.
—
The first time you broke down in tears before him, he stood to limp over to you. With a steady warm hand on your shoulder, he conjured up a handkerchief and pressed it into your palm. You thanked him and tried to get yourself under control once more. He didn’t say anything, only drew small circles into your shoulder with his thumb.
After you left his office that evening, you realised just how hungry you were. It hit you by surprise, really, you hadn’t felt this hungry since that fateful day. You’d eat when it was meal time, but all food tasted the same to you. This evening, however, when you put some chicken with rice on your plate, you tasted every single spice used, the meat falling apart on your tongue. You groaned audibly and let your eyes close.
“Heh, good to see you getting your appetite back!” said Amit across from you, a sweet smile on his face. Your cheeks a little red in embarrassment, you smiled back at him before diving into your meal once more.
It struck you later that night as you were lying in your bed, staring into the darkness. Sharp knew exactly how to help you, because he knew what you were likely going through. All of the professors had their stories, some of them experienced loss as well, but only Sharp had ever gone through something as traumatic as yourself. Maybe he behaved towards you the way he would’ve wished someone behaved towards him before, back when his partner died on the job and he barely escaped with his life.
—
The next evening, you were back in his office. He accepted you wordlessly, curiously peeking at a small bag you brought with you. Inside of it were various rare ingredients you collected on your adventures or harvested in the Room of Requirement. The potions master took them with a quiet ‘thank you’ and that was that. He didn’t ask where you got them and how, knowing that as your teacher, he might not like your answer. But he was grateful, you knew. It didn’t need to be spoken in order to be understood.
Back when you first met him, you understood why some may find him intimidating, why he rubs them the wrong way. Sharp was strict, with a no-nonsense kind of attitude. He was hard on his students, and when he saw potential in them, he was even harder, striving for perfection. But the more time you spent with him, the more you saw the undeniable kindness within him. As cutting as his critique could be, his praises filled you with a great sense of pride and accomplishment. They pushed you to try even harder, to make him proud.
Little by little, it began to make no sense to you why some students found him evil, or even outright foul. Professor Sharp was anything but evil and foul.
In a way, you expected him to become a parental figure to you as well, like professor Fig was. Only, he didn’t. It frightened you the first time you looked at him and caught yourself thinking that you’d like to press your palm against his cheek, feel his prickly looking stubble, trace the scar on his face. “Something the matter, miss (L/N)?” he asked with a lifted brow. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you hurriedly looked away, an apology leaving your mouth.
—
It got worse after that. You enjoyed spending time with him too much. You found he had a dark, dry sense of humour, that his wit was quicker than lightning and sharper than a knife, but also that he possessed a certain gentleness. You noticed his eyes would linger on your fondly when he thought you weren’t looking. It always made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
You knew that he liked to draw, having been in his private chambers when you were searching for those blasted demiguise statues (not that you’d ever tell him), but having him actually showing them to you felt strangely intimate. The passage through his fireplace you had to crawl through turned into a large doorway after he tapped it with the tip of his wand. He said he can’t always make it upstairs if the pain in his leg is too much, but he nevertheless enjoyed spending time there. You were fairly certain you were the first person he showed his work to.
You saw a few drawings you didn’t recognise, as you hadn’t been to his chambers since - it was mostly parts of Hogwarts, a few scribbles of Hogsmeade as well. However, there was also a number of various paintings of beasts, hippogriffs, graphorns and such. You smiled when he showed you, already knowing you wouldn’t be meeting in his chambers the next time.
—
His curiosity was obviously peaked, as he accepted your request to wait for you in the seventh floor corridor, by the troll tapestry. You winced slightly when you saw him leaning against the wall, the stairs obviously not doing anything for his leg. Yet, when he acknowledged your presence, you offered him a reassuring smile, hoping what you were about to show him would make it up to him.
He watched you pace three times in front of the tapestry, his brow raised in question. You grinned when his dark eyes widened at the sight of a door materialising seemingly out of nowhere. You opened it and entered. “Come in, sir,” you said, turning to face him. He hobbled over, his right hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for his wand. Always vigilant.
With no small amount of satisfaction, you watched as his mouth opened in surprise of your Room of Requirement, eyes trying to take in as much as they could, utterly disbelieving. His gaze was caught by a large potion station on one side of the room, directly next to a herbology table, where your various magical plants were currently being watered.
“Ah, you’re back,” came a high pitched voice from somewhere, “Deek thinks it’s almost time to harvest the mandrakes- oh, professor Sharp!” Without looking at the house elf, still busy taking in the room, the potions master offered a small ‘Hello, Deek.’
“I will see to it. Deek, can I ask you a favour?” you smiled at him reassuringly. He replied with a smile of his own: “Of course. What can Deek do for you?” “Could you perhaps bring us some tea later? First there is something I want to show to the professor.” With a nod and a snap on his fingers, Deek was gone.
“What is this place?” asked professor Sharp, finally looking at you. “The Room of Requirement,” you replied simply, “professor Weasley showed it to me last year and urged me to use it how I see fit, mostly to aid me in my studies. Come sir, please, I do want to show you something.”
You lead the teacher up one of the staircases towards the swamp vivarium. You entered, with Sharp following close behind, slightly apprehensive at the feeling of wetness underneath his boots. This time you couldn’t conceal your chuckle as his jaw once again dropped. Your thestral friends noticed your arrival and immediately set on to welcome you. You laughed gently as the baby thestral nudged at your hand with its little skeletal beak, craving your loving touch.
With a few flicks of your wand, you brushed the animals and replenished their automatic feeder, all the while still stroking the little thestral’s head. Sepulchria, its mother, meanwhile took interest in professor Sharp, sniffing at him warily before deciding he posed no danger to her offspring.
Almost like on its own accord, Sharp’s hand travelled up to touch the mare, his calloused fingers coming to rest on her neck. “This is incredible,” he breathed out, as he caressed the creature’s glossy skin.
“When I was first able to see them, I found them a little frightening,” you admitted, conjuring a bench for the two of you to sit down on, the little one’s head immediately coming to rest on your lap, “it was right after the dragon attack, when I saw Mr Osric…” You got quiet. Professor Sharp sat next to you. Sepulchria and her mate, a male thestral you named Phobos, settled into the moist grass nearby, seeming perfectly happy to hang around while you and your teacher talked. Their offspring, Juno flapped its wings contentedly, leaning into your hand.
“Of course, I quickly learned of their good qualities,” you continued, forcing your tone to be light. “It was only after… After professor Fig died… that I found real comfort in them. They are amazing creatures, so gentle. In a way, I feel like they are exactly what a person needs to see, when they… when they watch somebody die.”
As per usual, Sharp let you speak, giving you time to gather your wits about you, think over the words you were going to say. He had no patience for fools who would bring chaos into his class, or his life, but he had all the patience with you. “They are scary at first and they have a sad aura around them… But they are here and they mean no harm. They’re a part of this world as death is a part of life. Death is not intentionally cruel, even if it sometimes forces us to go through life without some person we love.”
You heard a soft exhale next to you, then felt warmth on your free hand, as the professor’s fingers closed around it. You didn’t know how long you sat there in silence, hand in hand, just watching the skeletal equines and wandering through your own minds. “There is no without,” the potion master said suddenly, making you startle a bit. “They may not be around to talk to us, but as long as we remember them fondly, as long as we still let them guide us, they will never be really gone.”
You squeezed his hand. It was calloused and warm, and fit in yours perfectly. “I think there’s tea ready for us, sir.”
—
“Do you mind telling me where exactly are we going in the dead of night?” asked professor Sharp morosely as the two of you descended another flight of stairs in the Central hall. You didn’t know when it happened, but some time back the teacher let you support him when on stairs. As long as it was just the two of you, of course. He held onto your arm and leaned a portion of his weight on you, mindful not to step on his bad leg too much.
You wouldn’t tell him, but you loved when he did that. Having him so close, you were hyper-aware of his unique scent, which was so enchanting to you. It was like a mix between sandalwood, parchment paper and a hint of firewhiskey, and you had to restrain yourself from inhaling it deeply, so that it wouldn’t be obvious you were getting high on it. If you were to smell amortentia, you were certain this was what it’d smell like to you.
“Need I remind you that you are outside your dorm room after curfew? That’s a sure way to get you in trouble.” he quipped, no bite behind his words. “I’m with a teacher, surely an exception can be made?” you replied back, your tone light and amicable. Back when you first met him, you wouldn’t have imagined you’d share such banter with the potions master, he seemed far too serious for that. You still showed him nothing but respect in class, but outside of it, when the two of you were alone, you allowed yourself to tease him sometimes. You were always met with mild amusement and slight exasperation in reply.
Sharp sighed next to you: “I really shouldn’t encourage you in this… Should give you detention for a week, helping me grade exams.” He blinked in surprise at the happy smile you gave him: “I wouldn’t mind that.” The professor stopped walking in order to stare at you in disbelief. You felt your cheeks going red under his intense gaze. Oh no, you thought, have I said too much? Can he see right through me?
Finally, the potion master chuckled and shook his head: “You are a strange young woman, miss (L/N).”
You found yourselves on the school grounds, the cool night air making you hum contentedly. Despite no longer walking down the stairs, professor Sharp held onto your arm for support. You brought your free hand to your mouth and whistled on your fingers. A flurry of movement followed almost immediately. A gust of wind ruffled your hair as a white hippogriff landed in front of you. You let go of your teacher slowly, making sure he was prepared to stand on his own again, and approached the beast.
“Hello, Highwing,” you cooed and stroked her beak lovingly. Professor Sharp stood motionlessly, observing the majestic creature with no small amount of awe. “Poppy Sweeting introduced me to her after my first Beast class,” you explained, carding your fingers through Highwing’s soft feathers, “sometime later me and Natty rescued her and one more hippogriff from poachers led by Harlow and Rookwood. And the hippogriffs ended up saving our lives the very same night.”
Sharp listened quietly, his brows furrowed. “I think I’ll rather not ask any questions, (F/N), else I actually might give you that detention,” he said then. He didn’t call you by your first name often, but when he did, it always madea wave of fondness run through you. You wondered if you’d ever be allowed to call him Aesop. You tried rolling the name off your tongue many times when you were alone, deciding it was a beautiful name and that it fit him perfectly.
Carefully balancing himself on his good leg, he gave a deep bow to the beast, knowing how proud they were. A few seconds passed before Highwing deemed his action courteous enough to reply in kind.
The potions master hobbled towards her slowly, extending a hand to pat her feathered neck. He did startle however, when you nimbly climbed atop the creature, settling comfortably between its grand wings. “What are you doing, miss (L/N)?” he asked, narrowing his eyes when you offered your hand to him. “Please sir,” you spoke quietly, your smile seemingly glowing even in the darkness around you two, “trust me.”
He debated with himself whether he finally went mad. It was nearly midnight, and while summer was quickly approaching, the nights were still rather cold. He was standing on school grounds and a student was proposing to him with, what, a hippogriff ride? He was way too old for this. Yet, as he looked at your extended hand and the positively beaming look on your face, he sighed. He probably was mad.
The potions master took your hand and marvelled at your strength as you seemed to have absolutely no problem pulling him up and behind you. Only now it hit him that he didn’t take into consideration where he’d put his hands. Very awkwardly, he placed them on each side of your waist.
Feeling the steady warmth of his body against your back made a rush of blood course through you, and you were suddenly glad to not be able to look at him. Your cheeks were so hot and red, he’d be able to figure you out immediately. You craved to enjoy the feeling of his hands on you, and even thought about buying a pensieve, just so you could watch the memory of this again and again.
You shook your head. There would be time for that later. Right now, you dragged him all the way out here and onto a hippogriff, might as well give him a brilliant memory too.
“Highwing, go!” you called out, grabbing onto the beast’s neck more tightly. The hippogriff cried and stood on its hind legs before breaking into a gallop. Professor Sharp cursed next to your ear and finally wrapped his arms around your waist fully. Propriety be damned, the teacher doubted falling off a racing hippogriff would do any good to his leg. Or any other part of him, really. Highwing spread her wings, their span positively huge, and Sharp felt they were no longer on the cobblestone path.
The flapping of wings forced the professor to close his eyes as they soared higher and higher. Then it stopped and Aesop finally looked. His breath caught in his throat. He remembered flying around on his broom when he was a student himself, but it suddenly struck him that he never did so at night.
It was ethereally beautiful. The moon shone on the great castle, white glow reflecting on the roofs. There were lights on in various parts of the castle. It stood under them in all its glory, sure and steady, yet ever changing. The castle was like a living organism, stony body, a kind soul and a heart constantly drumming with magic, holding so many secrets within the historical walls, Aesop was sure that even if he lived to be two hundred years old, he’d never be able to discover all of them.
It was so serene, yet so humbling, the professor momentarily felt weightless, not feeling his blasted leg at all, for once free of all of his guilt, of all the pain he ever experienced.
He didn’t realise he was squeezing you closer, that his chin was leaning on your shoulder. Something you were very much aware of, trying your best not to tremble under his touch. It was both salvation and damnation and you found yourself thinking how easy it would be to just turn your head to the side and capture his lips. You held yourself back, gently bumping his head with your own instead.
Highwing slowly descended above the murky waters of the Black lake. Sharp saw the giant squid thrust one tentacle above the surface, as if greeting the three of you. Feeling impossibly young, he laughed, and he laughed until his lungs hurt. You laughed with him, releasing a giddy whoop, when the hippogriff decided it was time to take to the skies again.
You eventually landed on a coast south of Hogwarts. Professor Sharp felt his spirits dampen somewhat at the sight of you flawlessly leaping from the beast’s back and onto the ground, your movements noble and elegant, and so youthful. Yet, once you looked at him, all smiles and messed up hair, a grin broke on his face as well. He let you help him down, his good leg taking most of the blow of impact with the ground.
Nevertheless, he winced. Oh, he was going to need at least two phials of Wiggenweld potion once he was back in his chambers. Trying to push his pain away, he spoke in a light tone: “So, that’s what you’ve been doing when you were supposed to be in the castle? In bed?” You gave him a little guilty smile: “Sometimes. You’ve got to admit, though, this is rather exhilarating.”
The professors sighed and leaned against a nearby boulder: “As your teacher, I should really be condemning this sort of behaviour instead of encouraging it… However, you’re right. It was exhilarating. And very beautiful. I am thankful for the experience.”
He scanned his surroundings, moonlight illuminating the area enough for Aesop to be sure you wouldn’t get ambushed by some poacher, or a pack of mongrels.
When he was sure the two of you were alone, he sat on a nearby boulder, content to rest for a bit.
The professor watched as you picked up a pebble using your wand, and made it skip over the dark water. You truly were something else. He was aware that the amount of time he spent with you was frankly inappropriate, seeing as you were his student, but he just couldn’t help it. The potion master did try to put some distance between you in the past, but it was no use. You’d always come find him and he couldn’t turn you away.
He didn’t know when he stopped trying to set this distance. Maybe when the last couple of times it was him who caved in. Him, who invited you over for a cup of tea, unsure whether he’d be more glad if you accepted, or if you refused. Never once did you refuse. He realised that such distance was actually the last thing he wanted, that you actually became… friends. Close friends.
He angrily shushed the little voice in his head that tried to ask ‘Just friends?’.
Oh yes. That was the reason he wanted to set the distance, how could he have forgotten?
You turned seventeen some time ago, officially of age, but that didn’t make Aesop feel any better. You were very mature for your age, and probably have been for a long time. He had no problem seeing you as his equal, despite you being so much younger than him. But as he watched you skipping stone after stone, he could feel his guilt suffocating him, seeing tiny traces of the child you stopped being when you watched your mentor die before your eyes.
He should probably mount the hippogriff, fly really high up and throw himself off the beast. But oh, how much he longed to join you at the bank and wrap a protective arm around you.
“Sir? Are you alright?” you noticed him staring at you, and saw him cough awkwardly. “We should probably head back,” the potions master decided then, slowly hobbling over to Highwing, who seemed to be happily hunting for squirrels since your arrival.
He enjoyed holding you to him while he could. He didn’t actually want to plummet to his death after all, so it was perfectly acceptable to grip you tight.
“Are you sure you’re alright, professor? You don’t want me to walk you to your chambers?” you asked with worry in your voice. Highwing’s form was rapidly disappearing in the dark sky. “I am quite well. You should go to your dormitory. Probably best to use the disillusionment charm as well.”
He didn’t know if the smile you gave him then made him want to laugh or cry, your eyes were filled with such fondness and wonder, Aesop honestly felt like the very air around him got warmer. He wasn't ready when you grasped his hand: “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you joined me tonight.” Oh. And the professor definitely wasn’t ready for you to get up on your tiptoes to press your lips against his left cheek, right where his scar ended.
Not a second later you were nearly translucent and slowly getting away from him. “Miss (L/N)! Detention.” he called after you. You had the audacity to giggle, before the door to the Entrance hall opened and you slipped in.
—-
Aesop Sharp knew he was playing with fire when he responded to your letters that summer. It was the summer before your seventh year. He very nearly had a heart attack when a greater sooty owl appeared on his windowsill one morning, bearing a letter with your handwriting. There was no address, just his name. Seeing as he lived quite close to Hogwarts, it really wasn’t that much of a surprise the owl was able to find him.
He gave it some food and water, a single digit coming to scratch under its head. It leaned into his touch. A beautiful bird, indeed. Aesop briefly wondered whether you managed to find it from some exotic breeder in England, or if it truly was an Aussie owl. It was also a clever one, wouldn’t leave without a reply and would get increasingly more anxious for him to at least open the letter.
He tried to put it off, afraid of what he was to find there. The letter sat on a table in his dining room and he’d regularly come to stare at it morosely, as if willing it to open without having to touch it. The breaking point came late in the evening. The bird would leap onto his left shoulder and peck at his scar rather painfully, before jumping onto the table and standing in front of the letter, giving him a pointed look.
The bloody beast had an attitude!
“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point clear!” he growled in its general direction and shooed her off with his hand. He sat down and summoned his pen knife. He knew he was stalling, cutting the pristine white envelope open much slower than he usually would. Sharp was immediately hit with the sweet smell of your perfume.
Finally, he pulled the letter out and unfolded it.
Why in Salazar’s name had he been so terrified?
You mostly described how you summer was thus far, confirming his suspicion that you indeed bought your owl in Australia. Her name was Diana apparently. You also promised to bring him some potion ingredients which were exclusive to the country, some of them so obscure Aesop had to look them up in his copy of Moste Potente Potions. Oh, how he looked forward to experimenting with them. Maybe some of them would be the key in discovering the cure for his leg!
You finished your letter with a wish that his summer was lovely as well, and that you were looking forward to seeing him again.
When he finished reading, Aesop put his head into his hands and smiled at the same time. He was in a bit of a pickle, wasn’t he?
You wrote letters to each other for the remainder of the summer. Aesop soon learned Diana only cared that he read your letters quickly, but was alright with him taking his time to actually answer them. Most of the letters were quite professional, discussing potions, your upcoming seventh year (actually your third year at Hogwarts), the NEWT subjects you’d take exams from, and possible future careers. Professor Sharp didn’t worry about the letters - there wasn’t a school rule prohibiting a teacher to be friends with a student, as long as it didn’t collide with their education or professional relationship.
The fact that there also wasn’t a rule prohibiting a teacher to engage with an adult student romantically was left unsaid somewhere deep in his mind.
—
Aesop Sharp and most of the teachers and staff arrived at Hogwarts two weeks before the start of term. Matilda would soon be sending out shopping lists and acceptance letters. He was rather glad he wasn’t the one hand delivering these letters to Muggleborns - not that he ever believed in the ‘pure blood’ nonsense, he just wasn’t feeling up to running around Britain and Ireland to explain magic to Muggles. Matilda was kind enough to leave him out of that. Though, he had a reason to believe she did so not because of his leg, but because of the possibility he might actually scare the children into not attending.
Thankfully for everyone, this year’s Muggleborns would be taken care of by Mirabel and Abraham, who were way more enthusiastic about this task than Aesop would ever be.
—
Professor Sharp felt rather foolish, actually.
He stood in Potage's Cauldron Shop, instructing the clerk to send his newly purchased silver and brass cauldrons to Hogwarts, all the while looking through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of you. You didn’t tell him when you’d be visiting Diagon Alley to pick up the textbooks you needed this year, but Aesop kind of hoped to run into you anyway.
He sighed deeply once he left the rather stuffy shop. He could’ve easily ordered all of today's purchases from the comfort of his own office, but no, he’s going to act like a lovestruck teenager instead. The professor frowned. At least he took his cane today, he thought grimly as he hobbled over to the Leaky Cauldron, more than ready to eat something, and possibly even improve his mood with a drop of firewhisky.
He did feel better with a stomach full of hare stew and nursing his third glass, when a voice he missed all summer sounded right behind him.
“Hello, professor Sharp. Fancy seeing you here,” Aesop’s head snapped to the left. There you were. And you were breathtaking. Clad in a lovely dark green dress which fell to your ankles, with pristine white collar and sleeves. Upon your head sat a stylish wizard hat decorated with late summer flowers. The potions master was used to seeing you in your uniform, and occasionally in an ensemble of blouses and trousers that allowed you to move freely.
Now you were garbed in the pinnacle of late 19th century fashion, looking like an elegant lady of high society. And what an absolutely beautiful lady at that. “Miss (L/N),” he replied, a little out of breath. You gave him a kittenish grin, betraying your otherwise mature appearance a little: “Mind if I join you?” Aesop stood with some difficulty and motioned to an empty chair opposite of him: “by all means, miss, sit.”
You sat down together and soon shared a little toast - the professor with another glass (last one, drinking more would be terribly unwise) and his young friend with a goblet of rosé. For a while, neither of you said anything.
“You look… well,” said Aesop then, cursing himself for not being able to come up with anything better, “your dress is lovely.” You gave him another smile: “Thank you. My mother insisted that I should wear it. ‘A proper lady’, she said. Between you and me, I cannot wait to get out of this thing. The lace is itchy and I’m rather surprised I haven’t passed out from oxygen deficiency yet, seeing as how tight my corset is tied.”
Professor Sharp shook his head - he never understood why Muggle women willingly used these torture devices on themselves. “Got everything you need for the start of term?” he asked instead. “I do,” you replied, “it was a lot. I’m happy to be able to do magic outside of school now, and make it all fit in here.” You patted your handbag fondly.
Aesop didn’t know how much time passed. You told him about your summer in detail (as you usually kept your letters short and to the point), talking about your visit to Australia for quite a while. He was happy to listen, your voice music to his ears. The way you spoke, carried yourself, your gesticulations - you were a grown woman. The little slips into child-like manners (a grin here, a wild hand motion there) were not those of an actual child - it was simply your personality. Mature, yet youthful, wise, yet passionate.
And the way you sometimes looked at him, when you thought he couldn’t see. It gave him hope. It terrified him. It made him want to lay his hand atop yours on the table. Made him want to reach over, grab your face and press his mouth on your own. He did nothing. He only smiled at you.
It was dark outside once you parted ways. You held his hand and said how much you’re looking forward to his classes and his company again. You promised to hand deliver him the ingredients you got him. He nearly forgot his cane in the pub.
With a final smile and a loud crack, you disapparated.
Aesop stood before Hogwarts gate, not five minutes later. He missed supper, but didn’t find it in himself to care. He made his way to his chambers, all the alcohol he drank long gone from his system. He actually looked forward to the beginning of term when it meant having you around.
What in Salazar’s name was he going to do next year?
—
In Aesop’s eyes, you were exceptionally beautiful. Unfortunately for him, however, some of your peers seemed to share this opinion. The astronomy obsessed boy from your house gazed at you like you were a holy picture. Sebastian Sallow seemed intent on having all of your attention for himself, constantly finding new ways to keep you entertained and get into trouble. Even the Gaunt boy, while lacking eyesight, seemed to somehow sense your desirability. Aesop just prayed it wouldn’t be Garreth Weasley who caught your fancy.
Each time he overheard someone (usually boys, occasionally a girl) asking you out, his heart closed in on itself and only started beating properly again after your (very gentle) refusal of their proposition. And then it would dance with bliss when you’d turn up on his doorstep instead.
Ever since that afternoon in Diagon Alley, those unspoken words between the two of you gained in intensity. More familiar touches occurred. Sometimes you’d hold his hand when you spoke of your extracurricular adventures. Aesop would run his thumb over its back, listening intently. It always took him by surprise how much trust you had in him, seeing as both of you were aware some of your escapades would result in loss of points and plenty of detentions. Never from him, though.
—
One time you held him to you, his head cradled into your neck. You came to his quarters at a bad time. His leg was acting up and his potions weren’t helping. His pain induced desperation was made worse by his guilt. What was he thinking? He was a cripple, entirely too old for you. You deserved better. Even that blasted Weasley boy would have been better for you than him. He should never have looked at you like he did. It was quite normal for a student to develop a crush on their teacher (the stories Mirabel could tell), but the teacher shouldn’t indulge the student. Aesop was nothing but indulgent with you.
He tried to send you away when he heard your knocking that evening. His pain and despair must have found way into his voice, because you didn’t leave. You came right in and locked the door behind you. He snapped at you, told you to get out of his chambers. You disobeyed and came even closer.
You kneeled before him, your eyes kind and full of compassion. His own were filled with tears that would never be shed. Aesop didn’t cry anymore. He was close to it today though. You massaged the muscles in his leg after you've applied a heating charm to the fabric of his trousers. His head hung low in guilt and shame, and Sharp hoped you would just leave. He was pitiful and you deserved better, why wouldn’t you leave him to his misery?
You didn’t leave. Of course you didn’t. He shouldn’t have thought for a single second that a witch who defeated a troll during her first week in school, after living as a muggle for nearly 16 years, would just leave. She held him, pulled him to her entirely. He could smell her perfume, felt her nimble fingers in his hair. Heard her soft voice shushing him, trying to bring him comfort. He allowed himself to wrap his arms around her. Aesop cried.
—
“Have you given any more thought to your future after you finish school?” he asked one day. Snow was falling outside, staff and students were preparing for the Christmas holidays. Behind him, sitting in one of his armchairs, you sighed. “It’s complicated,” you admitted then, “I’d rather be a curse breaker for Gringotts than an Auror, that’s for sure. No offence.” He grinned. “None taken. I’d like to be able to say that I’m glad you’d choose something safer than the Auror office. However, curse breaking is not exactly much safer, is it?” Finally he turned to look at you: “You didn’t take into consideration… shopkeeping, perhaps?”
The look you gave him was almost enough to make him laugh. He settled for turning the corners of his mouth slightly upwards. “With all due respect, sir, can you imagine me behind the counter the entire day, promoting fantastic new sales and gossipping with witches on maternity leaves?” Sharp couldn’t hold it in anymore and chuckled openly. “Point taken,” he agreed.
“You know you can change careers later in life, right? Don’t have to be stuck doing one thing forever…” you gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to elaborate. “Listen, professor Hecat is… still battling time itself. And she isn’t winning. There will come a time when a new professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts is needed. And if you excel in your NEWTs the way you did in your OWLs…” Your mouth opened in disbelief: “Are you saying I could someday teach in Hogwarts?”
He sat down into an armchair opposite of you, propping his bad leg on a footstool. “You possess the skill and the knowledge. I dare say you love this castle, this school. And you’d be able to venture out into the Forbidden forest as you do, without me having to turn a blind eye to it anymore.” You grinned into the flames in his hearth. Getting slightly more comfortable by crossing your legs you let the warmth seep into your skin.
“I still don’t feel like shopkeeping, though.”
—
You and Samantha made it inside the Transfiguration classroom just as professor Weasley went to close the door. You were out of breath and red like salamanders, both from the running and the cold outside.
“Girls, girls,” chided professor Weasley, “I would expect punctuality in your seventh year.” “It’s my fault, professor,” you panted out, “I overslept. Samantha would’ve been here long ago if it wasn’t for me.” Professor Weasley shook her head and motioned the two of you to sit.
—
“I cannot wait to visit Matabeleland again,” said Natty with a smile. You knew she had her reasons to not want to go where her father died defending her before, but now that she made peace with her past and was officially an adult, she wanted to revisit her happier childhood memories. “Me and gran are going to Arizona. We’re hoping to encounter Thunderbirds there,” spoke Poppy then, “What about you, what will you be doing?”
You looked up at the sky and smiled. “Actually, I think I’ll stay at Hogwarts. I really took on a lot of work this year, and I’d like to focus on it in peace.” It was only partly true. The main reason was that you wanted to spend as much time as possible with your favourite professor. Unbeknownst to your friends, the bag you carried on your shoulder contained a neatly wrapped Christmas present (a beautiful set of drawing kohls), a bottle of firewhiskey said to be absolutely brilliant (courtesy of Sirona) and a very special letter you were hoping to present to your teacher on Christmas Eve.
You came to see Hogwarts as your home. You were able to wander through the highlands for hours at a time, exploring every nook and cranny. If someone were to use Prior Incantato on your wand at any given time, the last spell would most likely be Revelio. Now that your time as a student was slowly coming to an end, you realised just how much you’d miss being here. In a way, you were envious of those who got to attend the full seven years. Your solace was knowing that you wouldn’t ever be too far from your home.
There was no without.
—
“Good evening, professor,” you beamed at the scarred man. He smiled back and stepped aside from the door, a wordless invitation. You took him in appreciatively. It wasn’t often you’d see the potions master so dressed down, cladded only in his white shirt, vest and trousers. His tie was loosened, jacket and coat hanging by the door in the other room.
You fished the present out of your bag. “This is for you to unwrap tomorrow,” you said, settling it aside on a nearby table, “but I see no reason we shouldn’t try this out right now.” He grinned at the sight of the bottle of obviously very expensive liquor. “Hope nobody saw you smuggle this in. It’s alright to have a glass in Diagon Alley, outside of term. Here however, I believe this would get you into all sorts of trouble with the deputy headmistress,” his voice was teasing and he was already fetching two glasses. “It’s Christmas holidays, we are out of term. We just so happen to be in the castle,” you quipped back.
You held the glasses while he poured. “Well, miss (L/N)... (F/N). All the best for the rest of your time in Hogwarts, and even better for your next adventure. Wherever it may take you. I am glad to have met you, and proud to be your teacher. And your friend.” You didn’t call him out on the ‘friend’ part just yet, choosing to take a sip of your drink instead.
You immediately made a face and began coughing.
Aesop stood before you, chuckling. “Wow,” you said once you caught your breath, “that’s horrible.” The potions master’s chuckles turned into laughter. “Luckily for you,” he said after you made a show of pushing your glass towards him along with the rest of the bottle, “I think of everything.” A bottle of some floral wine entered your vision, uncorked itself and poured a sensible amount into a conjured up goblet. You drank, rolling the light liquid over your tongue.
“Fixed your taste?” asked Sharp, still smirking. You nodded: “I no longer feel like I’m about to die, so that’s good. Anyway, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” You walked over to the armchairs in front of the hearth. Professor Sharp followed and sat across from you. You held a scroll in your right hand and offered it to him.
Aesop put his glass down and reached for the scroll curiously. Unrolling it, he read out loud:
Brood and Peck
Hogsmeade
Dear Miss (F/N) (L/N),
We are pleased to inform you that you were admitted to apprenticeship at Brood and Peck, Hogsmeade, beginning on 3rd July 1893 at 8 o’clock in the morning.
All equipment necessary for your apprenticeship will be provided for you on the spot.
We are looking forward to our cooperation.
Yours sincerely,
Ellie Peck
Aesop Sharp was looking at you wide-eyed. “I thought about what you said, about the DADA position,” you said, your cheeks turning red under his intense gaze. “I thought… I thought you said you didn’t see yourself in a shop,” he said, still in a daze. “That’s the best thing,’ you smiled at him, “I won’t be in a shop. I’ll be rescuing beasts and taking care of them, collecting byproducts and bringing them to Ellie. I also made a deal with Pippin to bring him any useful potion ingredients I find.
“I’ll have a bit of money and I’ll be close by. And I’ll be running around the highlands most of the time, which is pretty much exactly what I do now, except without the schoolwork,” you chuckled. Aesop’s expression was unreadable. “What made you decide to stay?” he asked finally, his voice so quiet you barely heard it over the crackling fire. There was the moment, the moment of truth you’ve been waiting for. You gathered your courage.
“There were a lot of reasons. But the biggest one is… you. The more I thought of it, the more the mere idea I’d be somewhere far away from you, unable to see you maybe months at a time, terrifies me. Saddens me.” You sighed then. “What I’m trying to say… I am in love with you, and have been for some time, and I’d like to be close to you. If you’ll have me.”
Professor Sharp’s eyes were glistening. He said nothing for the longest time and you were getting worried.
“Please, professor, think of my words before you refuse me. I know that I am young, but I am of age and I know what I want in life. It’s not just some silly crush, I genuinely believe we could… that we could spend our lives together. You are possibly my best friend, the person I trust and admire most, and I adore you. I think of you all the time, and there’s nothing I want more than to be able to hold you, and kiss you. And be the woman you love. I love you, sir.”
He stood up with such swiftness you startled. Almost as if his leg did not trouble him in the slightest. The potions master extended his hands to you and you took them, standing up as well. He still stood taller than you and you had to look up to see into his eyes. One hand came to rest on your cheek and you unconsciously leaned into it, closing your eyes in bliss as his scent filled your nostrils.
“Aesop,” he said suddenly. “I’m sorry?” you replied, slightly dazed to have him touching you so tenderly. “I should have asked you to call me Aesop ages ago,” he explained, his other hand coming to hold your other cheek, “my dearest girl.”
He felt free, free of guilt and shame, the constant pain of his wounds falling somewhere into the background. He wouldn’t allow it to interfere with this moment. Those three words he craved to hear from you fell freely from your lips. Your eyes were blown wide and he found he could no longer resist them.
A sound made him look up. Above your bodies joined in an embrace a twig of mistletoe appeared. Hogwarts and its secrets…. “There is nothing I’d want more than to have you by my side,” he spoke quietly, the words foreign to his lips before now, but filled with utmost honesty nevertheless.
You weren’t able to wait any longer. Mirroring the teacher, you grabbed his face gently and guided him down until your lips connected. It felt like the most ancient, the purest form of magic, coursing through you as you tasted Aesop’s mouth. The alcohol was foul when drunk from glass, but on the potions master’s tongue it tasted like ambrosia, getting you more drunk than you’ve ever been, and you moaned into the kiss.
The world turned into sensations. Your fingers in his hair, his teeth squeezing your lower lip, before soothing the sting with his tongue. The solid, warm front of his body pressing into yours, his heart beating wildly against your breasts. The arms you’ve dreamed about enveloped you crushingly and you realised that you never wanted to leave them. Why would you? You were home.
You were home.
Hello, I hope you enjoyed reading. You can find this work and all of my other works on AO3. I always adore feedback!
#hogwarts#hogwarts legacy#aesop sharp#professor sharp#aesop sharp x reader#proessor sharp x reader#aesop sharp x you#professor sharp x you#fanfiction#reader insert#i love the magic cop#fluff
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Lunch Visitor
Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Professor!Reader
Requested? Nope, this is a little self-indulgent piece tbh
Plot: Aesop has been stopping by your classroom during lunch lately.
Aesop started coming to your classroom during lunch a week ago. He didn't stop by every day, but every few days or so. It was curious, and you were wondering why he suddenly had free time to visit you. During lunch, he normally tended to his duties in the classroom while the students were away for a while.
The first time he came by, he asked you about a potential new potion he was thinking about teaching to his students. You gave him your opinion of course, but instead of leaving after getting an answer, he stayed and sat with you for the remainder of lunchtime.
Today when he stopped by, you were sipping on some tea made from a tea blend that Mirabel had given you, and munching on some custard tarts while you worked on grading the arithmancy homework your students had turned in.
"Did you come by to help me grade this homework?" You call out when you hear the door open, because although your back was turned to it, you knew it was Aesop.
"There's a reason I chose to teach potions and not arithmancy," Aesop replies as he approaches the table you're working at, and you can't help but grin at his words. Normally that's the closest thing to humor you're going to get out of him.
You turn to look up at him as he sits down, and you offer him a soft smile before you motion to the tea pot that was sitting nearby.
"Tea?" You ask, and he gives you a silent nod before you begin to pour him a cup, and you slide it and the saucer over to him. "Mirabel made the blend for me. It's delightful," You tell him as you lean back in your seat, and watch him take a drink from his cup. He looks pleased with it.
"You know, you always tell your students that you're too busy to speak when class isn't in session. But you have time to sit here with me?" You ask him more as a joke, but you could swear you heard him chuckle.
"Perhaps I'd rather spend my free time with you than entertaining their questions that I've answered countless times," He tells you with a slight raise of his eyebrows, and you were just hoping he would miss the blush that rose to your cheeks.
"What are you trying to tell me, Aesop?" You ask him, hoping you would be able to get more out of him.
He actually chuckles then, and he takes another drink of his tea before he sets down the little cup. By now he has an... affectionate look in his eyes.
"I'm trying to tell you that I'd like to see you outside of work, Y/N. Let me take you out one day,"
While you were hoping for this response from him, you couldn't help but still feel surprised by it. You send him a little nod, and he smirks slightly before he leans forward and snags a tart from your plate.
"Splendid. And I'm going to take one of these since you depleted my stash of toffees that were in my desk," He tells you, and your eyes widen slightly; you didn't think he would notice that you would take one... or a few when you would stop by the potions classroom.
#Aesop sharp#Aesop sharp x reader#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#professor Sharp x reader#aesop sharp x professor!reader
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You know, Sharp used to run, jump and fly a lot with 40 pounds of glass in his coat) Yeah, one day he won't be able to run like that anymore 😞 I wish you all at least not to sit on bottles and eat more soups with nettle from cemetery 🌿🌿🌿 for your health of course 💀 take care
You can find me in cozy Telegram
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Fic about detective-Sharp on ficbook
#aesop sharp#hogwarts legacy#professor sharp#sharp#kolori drawings#comic art#illustration#professor aesop sharp#hogwarts legacy fanart#slytherin#sharpuary#sharpuary 2024#harry potter#hogwarts legacy fanfiction
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Saving a Life
Aesop Sharp x Fem! Student! Reader
Tags: None.
Word Count: 2.8k
“I’m really happy you did.”
꩜꩜꩜꩜
When you came barreling into the classroom, he was sure that something horrible had happened.
He was used to you coming by pretty much any time of day, but when you came rushing in positively panicked and frantic, he knew that something was wrong.
You looked as if you had sprinted all the way from Poidsear Coast based on the way you were barely able to stand. There were beads of sweat scattered across your forehead, despite the frigid January air outside. Your breathing was short and rapid, both from over exertion and emotional turmoil.
This was not normal behavior for you. He found it peculiar, which is why he dropped everything to assist you. He shot up from his chair at his desk, making the quickest strides towards you that his battered leg would allow him to.
Your arms were wrapped around your midsection, clinging to your abdomen for dear life. The expression on your face was particularly concerning, because you looked as if you had just witnessed something unthinkably tragic.
“What’s wrong?” He had asked, his hands gripping the bottom of your forearms as if you’d collapse. “Are you hurt?”
He felt partial relief when you shook your head no, but he still didn’t have an answer for what was happening.
He could feel the chill of your skin through the material of your robes. He couldn’t believe you were out in this weather so severely underdressed. You could’ve at least ditched the robes and put on a coat.
“Are you sick?” He tried again. “Talk to me.”
There was some slight movement underneath your robes, and the way that you had your arms wrapped around yourself made it clear that you were keeping something shielded underneath.
“He’s hurt!” You wailed.
“Who is hurt? What is that?” He asked, making the connection that whatever you had bundled up in your robes was the cause of your stress.
Your right arm freed itself to pull the left side of your robes back. Your left arm was supporting the weight of something, and the sudden exposure to the cold air of the classroom caused it to stir.
You presented a small creature, just barely small enough to fit in one of your palms. It had soft black fur, a long snout, and a fluffy tail. Aesop identified it as a Niffler, and based on its current condition, it wasn’t looking so good.
Its body was curled up in a ball, the muscles on the small animal were constricting and releasing rapidly, causing it to shiver like no tomorrow. It was lethargic and what little voluntary movement it did make was slow and weak — very abnormal behavior for a healthy Niffler.
“It’s a Niffler! I found him at the bottom of a tree up on a mountain.” You cradled its limp frame.
“Nifflers are usually burrowed down this time of the year. I wonder what it was doing all the way up there,” Aesop glanced over the critter. “What in Merlin’s name were you doing up there? And without a coat?”
Quite frankly, Aesop was much more concerned about you getting sick from being outside without a sustainable source of heat. The Niffler was the least of his worries, but it was at the top of your list.
“I was trying out my new Quidditch broom!” You shrilled, growing more upset by the second. “I was only going to be gone for a little while!”
It wasn’t necessarily uncommon to see a Niffler out and about during the winter months of the year, but it certainly was odd to find one so far from the ground.
A Niffler as little as this one would have a hard time traversing out in the open with all the snow and ice on the ground. Nifflers were meant to be underground travelers, and they typically thrived in the warmer months.
“You could’ve at least worn a sweater,” He grumbled under his breath. “What was it doing?”
“He probably escaped a poacher or something,” You rambled, clearly more concerned with the current issue at hand. “Aesop, you have to help him! He was nearly frozen when I picked him up, and he’s not getting any better.”
Aesop realized then that this was a rescue mission. You hadn’t brought this little Niffler all the way here just to show him off (which you had done before with Nifflers and other various beasts), you had brought him to seek help in trying to keep him from becoming a popsicle.
“I have no expertise in this area. Did you try taking it to Professor Howin?” Aesop suggested, clearly not confident in his beast tending abilities.
“I can’t find her! She wasn’t in the classroom and no one knows where she is.” Your voice wavered as if you were on the verge of tears.
This was far beyond Aesop’s skill set. He knew nothing about Nifflers or how to care for them. He certainly didn’t know how to reverse hypothermic shock on one.
“He’s so little, he won’t make it on his own!” You wailed, the tears welling up in your eyes and one more rejection away from spilling.
He knew how passionate you were about beasts. From the smallest Puffskeins to the largest Hippogriffs, you were a lover of all magical critters.
If there was anything that could get you this worked up, it was a beast who needed help.
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin, I have absolutely no training in taking care of wild beasts.” He persisted, but his voice was sympathetic.
That was when the waterworks came, tears leaking from your eyes and spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. You trembled all over, both from nearly getting frozen yourself and with fear. You were shaking like a leaf and scared to death for what was going to become of this defenseless little Niffler.
“Aesop, please!” You begged. “He’ll die if you don’t help him!”
He was taken aback by your sudden passion and determination. It was very rare for you to get assertive and even more rare for you to be this desperate for help.
Him giving in to your pleas was mainly because he couldn’t stand to see you so frazzled and upset.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he had to do something.
“Alright, darling, alright. You must calm down,” He cupped your face in his hands, stroking the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs. “Look, I will…I will do what I can. Now, please — try to relax.”
He didn’t want to be responsible for whether or not this Niffler survived or not. But he supposed that doing nothing was worse.
He took the Niffler from your hands carefully, holding it close to his chest to keep him from losing any more heat. He seriously had no clue where to start, but he was going to do what he could to at least try to save him.
If nothing else, he could get the little guy stable enough to where he could make it to someone who did know what they were doing.
He carried him to his desk, setting him down carefully and with ease. He sat in his chair to get closer to the Niffler, and you were standing next to him.
His main objective first was to get some heat back into the Nifffler’s body…gradually, of course.
“I need your robes. Take them off.”
In better circumstances, you most definitely would’ve made a dirty joke and teased him. But you obliged silently, whipping your robes off of your body and handing them over.
Aesop made a silent note that not only had you failed to wear a coat or sweater, but you were also wearing short sleeves. From now on, he was going to start making you carry hand warmers around.
He properly wrapped the Niffler in your robes, bundling the shivering critter up as much as he could, leaving just his head to be sticking out. He drew his wand, casting a warming charm to speed the process along.
“As long as we keep it wrapped up-“
“It’s a boy.” You sniffed, correcting him.
Normally, he would’ve made some kind of sarcastic remark back to you, but he knew you were upset and only trying to do what you could to help.
“Right. Well, as long as we keep him wrapped up, I believe he’ll have a fighting chance,” He said. “I’m afraid I don’t know what else to do beyond that.”
A makeshift heating pad really was the best he could do. He had toyed with the idea of giving the Niffler some kind of potion, but he wasn’t confident that a critter this small could handle something that potent.
He was going on the theory that the robes wrapped around the Niffler would hopefully create an incubator effect, and it would bring him back and show some improvement in him within a few minutes.
Aesop knew that there wasn’t much else that he could do for the Niffler. It was up to time and fate at this point, and for your sake and the Niffler’s, he hoped it wasn’t too late.
You had gone quiet now other than an occasional sniff and sigh. Aesop watched the way that you were so attentive and focused on this Niffler. This was tugging on your heartstrings for sure, and he just hoped that he wouldn’t have to see what would happen to you if the Niffler didn’t make it.
He wanted to console you, yet he didn’t think he was doing a very good job of it. It was something he was working on. He was learning to be more sensitive and not so dismissive in situations like this.
While a nearly frozen to death Niffler wasn’t a big deal to him, it was extremely important to you. And if it was important to you, then it was important to Aesop too.
The next four or five minutes passed, and neither of you said anything. You were both silently monitoring the Niffler, anxiously awaiting any show of improvement. Aesop was nonchalant each time he checked to make sure he was still breathing and had a heartbeat. He didn’t want to do anything too urgently and make you more upset.
It was touch and go for a little while. It couldn’t have been more than seven or eight minutes total, but it felt like an eternity. Aesop had never tried to save the life of a Niffler before, and he had never felt more helpless than just waiting for something to happen…or not happen.
But just when he was beginning to feel defeated, the Niffler’s shivering began to slow down and he started making more consistent movements and sounding out a few squeaks.
Whatever he had done, it was working.
“What do Nifflers eat?” Aesop asked, stroking the fur on the head of the Niffler, trying to comfort him so that he wasn’t completely panicked when he fully woke up.
“They’re herbivores. Roots, shrubs, and weeds mainly,” You let out a shaky breath, but hope was returning to your eyes. “And treats too.”
“Do they eat dandelion roots?” He inquired.
You nodded, and Aesop took his next course of action.
“There’s a few jars of dandelion roots in the closet. Would you bring one?” He requested.
“Where in the closet?” You asked.
“Left side of the wall, second shelf.” He instructed.
There was a swiftness in your legs as you all but sprinted to the closet, quickly locating the roots exactly where he had said.
“He will likely be famished when he starts coming around. It’s best to have something for him to eat,” He said once you had returned to his side with the jar. “He’s going to need the nourishment.”
He was showing improvement. His movements and noises were becoming more frequent, which was a good sign.
“Nifflers are hyperactive when indoors,” You said. “He’s going to freak out when he fully wakes up and realizes he’s far from home.”
“I don’t think that’s likely. It’s going to take some time for him to feel energized again,” He remarked. “I just hope he doesn’t spot anything shiny around. I do know that they go ballistic over anything of that nature.”
Aesop felt relief when you laughed at that. It was a small one, but genuine. You were feeling better, which made him feel better.
The Niffler’s snout began to twitch, his eyelids slowly opening to reveal his black, shining eyes. He blinked a few times, confused as to why two human faces were in front of him.
“It’s alright…you’re okay.” You used your softest voice to soothe the Niffler.
Aesop screwed the lid off of the jar, the clinking noise causing the Niffler to twitch in surprise. Aesop kept his movements slow and calculated. He didn’t want to startle him any more than he already was.
“Do Nifflers bite?” He asked as he removed a singular root from the jar.
“Not usually, no.” You said, continuing to speak sweetly to the Niffler.
Aesop was hoping that you were right, because he didn’t want to have his finger chomped on as repayment. Nonetheless, he offered the dandelion root to him, waiting curiously for a response.
The Niffler raised his head, taking a few sniffs before beginning to nibble on the end of it. There was no telling when he had eaten last, and based on how quickly he was chewing through it, Aesop guessed that it had been quite a while.
The Niffler made it through about half the jar before he sounded out a small belch, followed by a satisfied hiccup.
“That should perk him up,” He couldn’t help but grin when the Niffler nuzzled its head into his hand. “He looks better.”
He did indeed look better. Within five or ten minutes, he would be wreaking havoc and making a mess of this Potions classroom.
Aesop stood from his chair, standing tall and turning to face you. Not only did the Niffler look better, but so did you.
“I believe that your new friend is going to be just fine,” He declared, his small smile shining with pride. “No more tears, hm?”
He swiped at the last of your tears, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a hum. He knew that you would be okay now, but you had spooked him something awful.
“You really think he’ll be okay?” You sniffed.
“I do, but I suggest that you try to track down Professor Howin again and have her take a look at him.” He advised.
“Alright,” You scooped up the Niffler, keeping your robes wrapped around him snugly. “I’ll check her classroom again.”
He nodded, giving the Niffler one last scratch on his head. He seemed to like Aesop…that or he was just grateful for the dandelion roots.
“Thanks for helping him,” You almost glowed. “I’m really happy you did.”
That gave him a bigger sense of pride than saving the Niffler. There was nothing that he wanted more than to make you happy. He worked towards making sure you were comfortable, happy, and well. Suddenly, all the anxiety and stress of keeping a Niffler alive was well worth it.
“Once you’ve left him with Professor Howin, why don’t you come back here? Take a break for a little while,” He said. “And you can tell me all about your new broom.”
“Okay,” You smiled, and his heart fluttered. “I’ll be back.”
You turned to leave and continue your search for Professor Howin, but he stopped you before you made it far.
“Before you go…” He said, retreating to the closet. He rummaged around for a moment, but returned with an article of clothing in his hands. “Put this on. Please?”
You swapped the Niffler for the dark blue sweater, slipping it over your head and straightening it once it was on. It smelled like Firewhisky and sandalwood…Aesop Sharp’s signature scent.
He kissed the crown of your head once he returned the Niffler to you, his hands giving your shoulders a playful squeeze.
“Alright. Much better. I’ll see you in a minute.” He sent you on your way.
He returned to sit at his desk once you were out the door, a long sigh escaping from his chest. He chuckled to himself. What in the world had happened to him?
He couldn’t believe that he, the infamous and hardened master potioneer, was now bundling up frozen Nifflers and feeding them from his personal ingredients inventory.
He was suddenly filled with so much love and joy just by you thanking him for doing something seemingly so small…something that never would’ve moved him in such a way before.
He had changed much more than he originally realized.
And he was very, very thankful for it.
#aesop sharp#aesop sharp x reader#aesop sharp x fem! reader#aesop sharp x female reader#aesop sharp x you#aesop sharp x y/n#aesop sharp fluff#aesop sharp fanfiction#professor sharp#professor sharp x reader#professor sharp x fem! reader#professor sharp x female reader#professor sharp x you#professor sharp x y/n#professor sharp fluff#professor sharp fanfiction#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#seriouslysnape
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Sharpuary day 8: Scarborough
18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen
warnings: swearing, mention of Aesop Sharp's time as an Auror and injuries
Aesop hadn’t been back since…that night. For whatever reason, he allowed me to convince him to take a small vacation to the beaches of Scarborough. Aesop busied himself with the luggage while I handled everything else. Once we were in the room though, he immediately went to the bathroom and I heard the water running. Sighing, I looked out the window at the beach.
“I know you’re worrying about me.” Aesop said as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You don’t have to. I’m fine. I’m going to be fine.” I turned to look at him, noting the small smile and shining eyes.
“If we end up anywhere near that dock, you tell me and we’re out of there.” I said. Aesop nodded, not losing his smile. “I’m serious Aesop. You tell me.”
“I will.” He assured me before kissing me softly and dragging me out of the hotel room. That night when we had returned, I headed to the bathroom while Aesop put away everything that we had brought with us and purchased. I tried not to think too hard on what it must feel like for him to be back here, even though I did not yet know the full story. Aesop was a closed book when it came to the night he had lost his partner and gained his injuries. Turning off the water, I wrapped a towel around myself before venturing back into the main room.
"Aesop?" I said softly when I saw him sitting at the little desk, lost in thought. "Sweetheart?" Aesop looked up at me and gave me a small smile.
"Feel better?" He asked. I nodded, having gotten all the sand out of my hair. "Good." Aesop turned to look out the window and I moved to get dressed, knowing he was getting lost in his own thoughts even if he was trying to have a good time with me. "You can see the dock from here." I had just pulled my shirt over my head when Aesop spoke again. "At least I can. Sort of. Maybe I'm staring off in the direction of it since I know it should be there."
"I know what you're going to say," I said as I walked over to look out the window with him, hand on his back. "But do you want to change rooms?" I started to rub his back as I waited for his response.
"No. I don't want to be an inconvenience when I honestly am probably just imagining things." Aesop shook his head. "Besides, you deserve to know." He turned to look at me.
"I don't need to know Aesop." I whispered, watching as he opened a door in the wall he had built up. "You don't need to do this unless you want to." He smiled at me and wrapped an arm around me.
"Always looking out for me." He breathed as he kissed my head. "I want to. You know that I was cursed on that dock. I lost my partner." I nodded as I let him pull me closer. Aesop pointed out the window. "The dock should be just over there." I followed his finger and nodded as I could just make out the dock in question. "My partner was my childhood friend, Ashley. She was an even better Auror than I was. And I don't say that to be modest. She really was. We had a tip that there would be smugglers coming to that dock. They were part of a ring we had been tracking for months and this was going to be our chance to take them down. What we didn't know, or rather didn't bother trying to find out, was that they were expecting us. We don't know who tipped them off. We didn't even know who tipped off the Auror's office." He sighed and squeezed my shoulder. "A fight broke out. I thought Ashely could handle her own so I barely gave her a second thought. I was so sure we'd both get out of there. I had just finished off the last of the smugglers. Or so I thought." He ran a hand down his face. "The bastard came out of nowhere. Ashley didn't have a fucking chance. She was dead before her name even left my mouth." I tightened my hold on Aesop as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Aesop..." I breathed out. "It's not..." He shook his head.
"I was frozen. Couldn't do anything." He breathed out. "Next thing I know I went flying back as I was cursed. Other Aurors had shown up by then. Managed to surprise the smuggler so that he only hit my leg. Part of the curse managed to clip my face. It's not as bad as my leg but it still hurts on some days." I turned and wrapped Aesop in a hug. I buried my head in his shoulder and felt him slowly hug me back.
"I didn't know." I breathed out. "I can't believe that's what happened. The Ministry covered it up didn't they? I don't think...I never heard..." Aesop nodded against me as he laid his head on my shoulder, eyes finally falling close.
"They did. Wouldn't want the wizarding world to know that one of their greatest Aurors had failed." Aesop said, a bitter edge to his voice. "It's not the curse that makes it hard to talk about. I..." He trailed off and I nodded in understanding.
"It's Ashley." I breathed out. "You didn't fail her Aesop. You did everything you could to protect her. If you had known, if you had moved faster...it's all just playing into variables you had no control over." He nodded and buried himself deeper into me. "I think she'd be happy you came back here." I finally said, tangling my fingers in his hair. "I think she'd tease you about our relationship." I felt his laugh rather than heard it as he nodded. "And I think that I would probably get along nicely with her. Finding out all about how you were as a child and a teen." Aesop pulled back, a twinkle in his eye.
"Oh I can tell you that." He laughed. I smiled softly at him as he nodded towards the bed. "What do you want to know?"
#aesop sharp#aesop sharp x reader#aesop sharp fanfic#aesop sharp fanficiton#aesop sharp imagine#professor sharp#professor sharp x reader#professor sharp fanfic#professor sharp fanfiction#professor sharp imagine#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy imagine#sharpuary#sharpuary 2024
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a little something for my fic This is your north now 💕 (Sharp - MC - Rookwood)
#i painted this instead of actually writing#but im working on it i promise#hogwarts legacy fanart#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#aesop sharp#victor rookwood#hogwarts legacy#professor sharp#aesop sharp x oc#my art
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The Eyes of Graphorns
Chapter 4 of my Aesop Sharp x Professor mc fanfiction.
Read part 1-3 here
tw: angst, mention of pain and death
(but also a little fluff towards the end - I guess)
Summary: MC tells Sharp she has uncovered a black market for goblin artefacts in Scarborough. And there's another secret she reveals to him.
Chapter 4 - The Renegades
The next day, Aesop Sharp stood outside the office in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. After climbing the last step, he raised his hand and paused. Should he really be here? Was it appropriate to visit his former student so late on her first day? He had a good reason, yes, but now that he was standing in front of her door, doubts crept in. But then he shook his head vigorously and decided to knock. On the other side of the wooden door, Elaine looked up from her desk. The sun had already set, and she had lost track of time while preparing for the lessons for the next few days. She ignited a fire in the fireplace with her wand and called out, "Yes?"
The door opened, and suddenly Aesop Sharp was in her office. It was strange to see him in a different office than his own.
"Good evening," he greeted her politely, looking around. The room looked different from Dinah Hecat's time. Shelves lined the walls filled with books, potions, and ingredients. Some shelves were stacked with loose papers, inkwells, and feathers from birds he didn't recognize. Between the shelves, strings were stretched, hanging herbs and roots for drying. Everywhere he looked, he discovered items and objects he had never seen before, some apparently from distant lands, including masks, maps, amulets, clay vessels, and other curiosities he couldn't name.
"Professor Sharp, what can I do for you?" she asked, although she knew the reason for his late visit. Elaine stood up to greet him.
"Well, I wanted to ask how your first day of school went."
"Oh, well, it went quite well, I think. Today I discussed Boggarts with the third years."
There was a moment of silence in the room.
"Well, the reason I'm actually here-"
"Why don't you sit down?" Elaine offered, conjuring a second chair to her desk with a flick of her wand, on which a candle holder illuminated a stack of books and parchments.
"Thank you. We didn't talk about it yesterday, as we were so abruptly interrupted, but you mentioned that you were in Scarborough?"
Elaine noticed him shudder at the name of the place where he had carried out his last assignment for the Ministry. She had also noticed yesterday that the name caused him discomfort. She wanted to address it, but at that moment, Professor Black had inexplicably appeared and stated that he could not tolerate his teachers still being in the corridors at such a late hour, with classes scheduled for the next day.
Elaine nodded and decided to get straight to the point. "I uncovered a secret black market for Goblin artefacts."
Elaine paused briefly before continuing, "We found a hidden storage room in Scarborough full of Goblin artefacts and an empty repository, similar to the one under Hogwarts. The artefacts were partially enchanted with dark magic. They are mainly used as weapons, as Ranrok did. The storage room must have been in use for some time. I..." Elaine paused briefly before hesitantly reaching into her coat pocket. She placed an Auror badge on her desk and slid it over to Sharp. He recognized it immediately. It was the badge of his deceased partner.
"I found this in their hideout..."
"But, what? That can't be. You mean... the smugglers in Scarborough?"
Elaine nodded.
"They didn't just smuggle shrunken heads. That was just what the Ministry was supposed to believe. I persuaded the Ministry to reopen the case. Ranrok had already gathered followers long before he pursued me. The smugglers from Scarborough worked with Goblins, who had turned away from Ranrok. They are an organized group and call themselves 'The Renegades.' They abducted or killed Ranrok's followers to obtain the artefacts and then sell them. They also smuggled metal from the mines to make their own repository. After Ranrok was defeated, they continued until today. And now they are after me again. They believe that through me, they can obtain more dark magic to fill the new repository and produce new artifacts. That's why the Ministry wanted me to go into hiding. Then, this summer, I happened to meet Professor Hecat, and when she told me that she wanted to resign from her position... I took the opportunity."
Aesop Sharp was lost in thought for a while.
"But how? Why do the Renegades believe that they can obtain dark magic through you? Just because you can see traces of ancient magic doesn't mean you practice dark magic."
Elaine ran a hand through her short hair and thought.
"Come. I think I need to show you something."
She got up, walked past Sharp, and stepped into a corner of the room behind him. It was only now that Sharp noticed a Pensieve standing there. He followed her and watched as she drew a silvery thread from her temple with her wand and let it slide into the basin. Her appearance had something graceful and dignified, momentarily causing Sharp to forget why he was here. The melancholy in her gaze, the scars on her face, the short hair, all gave her a unique beauty that overwhelmed him.
"Please," Elaine said, gesturing towards the Pensieve. Sharp approached it and lowered his head into the cool liquid.
-
Sharp saw Fig and Elaine standing in Fig's office, talking.
"Rookwood is working with Ranrok," he heard Elaine say, "and they want... me."
"Then they want what we found in Gringotts," Fig replied.
Then he saw Elaine and Fig standing in front of the four large picture frames he had seen below Hogwarts when he entered the underground caves with Elaine, but this time they were not empty. In one of the portraits, an older wizard was visible.
"You must pass four trials…"
The scene changed, and he could see Elaine and Fig observing Ranrok and Rookwood.
"Bring me the child…"
Then back to the room with the portraits, this time with more frames filled. Elaine asks, "What did Isidora extract from her father's chest?"
"Pain…"
The last scene seemed to be the day of the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Did Isidora absorb the pain? I don't understand, how could she derive power from it?"
"I wonder that you ask about your power?“
“There is a powerful Goblin who wants to use this power for himself…"
Finally, Sharp hears the woman's voice again: "Just because you can dispel the darkness doesn't mean you should always do it..."
-
Sharp was brought back to the present and looked at Elaine.
"I don't quite understand, what does this mean? Who is Isidora?" Sharp asked puzzled. He couldn't believe what he had just seen.
"Isidora Morgenach. She was a professor at Hogwarts. She could also see and use traces of ancient magic like me. She had the repositories built and filled with ancient, dark magic. That's why the Renegades want to find me. They believe they can force me to produce this dark magic for them so they can create new weapons."
Elaine pressed her lips together briefly. After a short pause, which Sharp also noticed, she continued, "I don't know exactly how they make these artefacts and what powers the dark magic has, but... whoever survives their attack must live with a curse forever. And... with the chronic pain it causes."
She looked at Sharp's leg and avoided his gaze. Elaine swallowed. She felt Sharp's thoughts racing as he looked at her. Gathering all her courage, she looked up at him: He had an equally sharp and alert as well as hopeless look in his eyes.
"You... You mean to tell me that you knew all along what kind of magic cursed me and you didn’t say anything?" Sharp seemed tense. It was as if something in him was breaking that he didn't know was there. As if a connection between Elaine and him has been destroyed that had never existed. Elaine remained silent. She had feared this moment since she knew she would return to Hogwarts.
"So you do possess ancient magic, like Isidora. You share her abilities... If she could extract pain, then..." he began hopefully. Elaine looked at her trembling hands. The right time to tell him the truth had long passed, but she had to do it eventually – preferably before she got too used to his presence, in case he decided to turn away from her permanently.
"I know what you're getting at. I won't do it," she interrupted him curtly but firmly. Sharp jumped up and slammed his fist on the table. Elaine didn't flinch. She had already anticipated what would happen. Sharp was about to lose control. Elaine couldn't bear to look at him anymore. She ran her fingers over the notches in the wooden table they were sitting at. The pendulum of the grandfather clock ticked heavily through the silence.
"You don't know what it's like," he retorted, his voice trembling, "to wake up every day and realise what happened in the past is still paralysing you. Not knowing what you're worth to the wizarding world and then the pain..."
What was he talking about? She had been back at Hogwarts for a day, and he behaved like a whiny, bitter man dependent on the pity of others. He had never talked to anyone about it in his entire career, and now he was making a fool of himself. Elaine looked away so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.
"Look at me!" he suddenly shouted. He couldn't hold himself together anymore, not after what Elaine triggered in him. "You knew all along, you know the cure, and you said nothing? Do you even care at all what I have to endure day after day?" Now Elaine was slowly losing patience.
"Do you really think that I don’t know what you're going through?" she snapped at him. Sharp fell silent. In the three years he had taught her, he had never witnessed her losing control. With her left hand, she unbuttoned her shirt sleeve, pushing up the fabric and revealing her right arm – it was covered with burnt skin, forming a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, shimmering reddishly. Sharp recognized it immediately. He has carried the same scar on his leg for years. So that was the reason why she had changed so much. On her first day, he had already noticed that something couldn't be right, that she was in pain, and that she avoided his gaze. He fell silent, his face taking on a sad expression as Elaine's words poured out. She no longer bothered to hide her tears:
"Do you really think I wouldn't know what it feels like? I've been travelling the world to find a cure for you! Because I couldn't bear to see you suffer even back then. I didn't want to return to Hogwarts until I had found at least something. That's why I didn't write to you. That's why I was afraid to come back. After a year, when I still hadn't found anything, I became an auror, to at least bring down your attacker, and I would have succeeded if there hadn't been a spy who betrayed us. That's why I didn't want you to know about my return. I came back with the same pain you suffer everyday and with the knowledge of having failed."
At the last sentence, she turned away from him and wiped her face with her left sleeve. Elaine took her coat from the chair, threw it over her shoulders, and stormed out. Sharp stood frozen in the room, feeling lost. He waited for the second door in the classroom to close, but the sound didn't come. Sharp slowly walked into the room where Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught. Hecat's dragon skeleton still hung from the ceiling and looked even more menacing in the torch-lit room than it already did in the daylight.
He found Elaine at the front of the room. She stood motionless in front of an old wooden cupboard that Sharp had seen before. He knew what was inside. Sharp approached Elaine and stood behind her. She didn't turn around, but he knew she felt his presence. She always did. With a trembling hand, Elaine silently opened the cupboard door. At first, nothing happened. Then Elaine broke the frosty silence. There was an insecurity in her voice that Sharp had never heard before, not even after Fig's death: "I didn't know what form he would take. Back then, I always saw Fig's corpse, but today..."
Elaine stopped herself as a tall figure emerged from the cupboard and staggered towards her. Sharp took a moment to realize that it was himself approaching Elaine. Was he the thing she feared the most? She had mentioned being afraid to write to him, but...
However, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the second Sharp had a strangely absent expression. His lips were twisted into a grotesque smile, and his eyes... They were empty. They weren't sad or desperate; they lacked any emotion, and a white mist in them seemed to stare directly into his soul, trying to extinguish all life from within. Elaine turned to face Sharp, looking at him. Her reddened eyes and the fear in her gaze weighed heavily on Sharp. Elaine now spoke a little calmer, but still sobbing: "Isidora didn't just free people from their pain, but from any emotions. They all turned into soulless shells."
Elaine paused briefly before silently and without turning around, transforming the Boggart into a few colourful streamers and sending it back into the cupboard.
After a moment of silence, she took a step towards Sharp and looked deep into his eyes. The blue of her eyes overwhelmed him, and although he had just been angry with her, he now felt an unusual attraction emanating from the fragile hint of trust in her gaze. They just stood there in silence for a while, and then, Elaine did something he hadn't expected: she touched his hand. Sharp breathed in briefly and barely audibly. Her touch tore him apart internally – it was the most gentle and tender touch he had felt in decades. Yet it felt like a farewell. Elaine continued softly: "I can't take the risk. You mean too much to me."
Then, she turned around, left her classroom, and disappeared into the darkness of the castle.
Chapter 5 - Elaine's Laughter
#gaming#hogwarts legacy#professor sharp#aesop sharp#professor aesop sharp#aesop sharp x mc#professor sharp fanfiction#professor sharp x oc#my screenshots#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy mc#my fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#Spotify
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First Chapter of Amortentia up on A03
First time posting on there, and I wasn’t going to until I finished it, but why not. I didn’t spend roughly six hours writing today to simply shelve it until whenever it’s done. I will try to write more either later tonight, or tomorrow.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/45307606/chapters/113989897
#Professor Sharp#Aesop Sharp#Professor Sharp x OC#Amortentia#Professor Sharp Fanfiction#Aesop Sharp Fanfiction
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The gang learns about Amortentia in Potions class... Yeah, Imma just leave this here...
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy mc#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian x mc#ominis gaunt#natty onai#professor sharp
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